#bulembu

Oh, and another weird thing for me is how people call money “bucks” here like we refer to dollars in North America.  It seems strange somehow to hear locals say, “That will be ten bucks,” but “ten bucks” in their bucks is less than a buck in my bucks, so it all seems bizarre.

If the money was comparable value I could handle it better, but at outrageously different exchange rates, I feel like someone should have asked permission to use “bucks” slang. Then, permission could have been denied as the currencies are un-relatable for duplicate slang.  Yea, it bugs me…

But, people here tongue-click to talk here and make certain words, so that makes up for it.  Way awesome!  I met a guy today who told me his name and part of the name involved a tongue click.  I have no idea how to spell what I heard, so you are just going to have to take my word for it!  The tongue click is sort of like the sound that people make when they are disappointed, but here they wrap words around that sound.  There are different pitches of tongue clicks for different things that have different meanings.  It is freaking cool!

That is quite a place of business.

A guy at the hostel today approached me and asked me if I had been to Victoria Falls.  When I confirmed that I had, he told me, “I recognized your curls.”  I am glad they are travel-famous, but I would sooner wish it was less sausage and more clam that said such a thing…

At about 10:00, I caught a convi-van to Mbabane for 10 rand ($0.65) and then I caught a bus to Piggs Peak for 35 rand ($2.28) where I waited around for three hours (explanation coming) in the busy bus parking lot for another convi that was to take us to Bulembu.  Bulembu was the target because it is a 60 year old abandoned town that had been an asbestos mine.

Ooooh, something tells me our ride is going to be late…

But, back to Piggs Peak – When I arrived at the square area where the bus was supposed to arrive at, I took note of all of the oil drippings on the pavement.  No other area had so many drippings except the square where the bus we were waiting for was supposed to park.  It made me assume that I was going to a very difficult area to get to and the vans were likely not in good shape.  From the oil mess, I assumed that the van was probably going to be late.  My premonitions were accurate and I waited with a growing group for three long hours for a van to appear.

I made friends with a young man named Sizolwethu who told me, “Sometimes the bus breaks and they have to fix it.  So, you have to have patience.”  Meanwhile a local man wearing a dress and a hide, that looked like it was once an impala, came to the parking lot playing a home-made flute.  I found that entertaining, but did not have small enough change to give to him in appreciation because that would mean he would receive some of my supposed bulging pockets of white money.

Some hustlers came along, one of them had three cards (two black and one red). He would show you the cards and then mix them in front of you and you just had to pick the red card.  It was incredibly staged, poorly, for me, the only white guy in the parking lot.  Perhaps they assumed I had never seen such a thing before and that I obviously not only grew up on another continent, but likely under a rock…on another planet…

The hustlers were speaking English to converse in front of me, but they were acting a staged plan, so their voices were funny.  They just happened to stand right beside me.  They did their card thing.  The guy picking the card chose a red one.  A winner!  Unbelievably easy!  Anyone could win!  Then, the winner-guy wanted to put 200 rand on it.  Obviously, smart betting when winning is so easy!

However, I cannot actually imagine anyone ever risking a 200 rand bet on a card game here.  But, the guy rolled out 200 rand and asked the man who shuffled the cards if he could cover the 200 bet.  Yep, he could.  Game on.

They played the game and when the guy who had placed the 200 rand bet went to choose his card, he chose the wrong card and lost.  Poorly played…  It was this deflating air balloon anti-climax as that was absolutely not supposed to happen in front of me.  The hustler who was not supposed to blow it, totally blew it.  Then the guy with the cards looked at me and asked, “Do you want to play?”

I looked at his face and slowly said the words, “I…am…not…that…stupid…”  My really forward and dry response caught him by surprise, and after about two seconds, one of his hustler friends burst out laughing at my remark.  His laughter was the first reaction after the delay.  They group of guys realized that I was a dead end despite their amazing show and moved on…

[su_quote]Every moment of Africa is an adventure in one way or another, no matter what is going on and what you are doing, even when you are doing nothing.[/su_quote]

I got bored and decided to win fellow “team-convi-waiting” strangers over. So I went to the grocery store for a drink and a package of cookies that I shared with the group.  That made for a lot of smiles and before long a man in the pack organized a rogue van to take us to Bulembu.  He was one of the first people I gave a cookie to and when he got the van in order, he came to get me, brought me to the front of the line-up that had formed and put me in the front seat of the vehicle.  The price of the regular convi was supposed to be 15 rand, but for our rebel van it was going to cost us 20 rand.  My friend told me, “We must contribute extra as a team.”  No problem.

Ah, that is why our ride was late.

It took 45 minutes, to get to Bulembu.  On the way, we passed a convi-van that had been rolled and was laying on its side in the ditch at the bottom of a hill.  Well, that would explain things…  It turns out that Bulembu has two vans: the one in the ditch had been rolled a couple of days ago and the other had broken down today.

But, we made our way and pulled into Bulembu.  Finally.  It really turned out to be worth the wait.  The town is really beautiful in its abandonment.

Bulembu, the asbestos mine houses.

The houses that were for the miners were painted in vibrant colors that shone out from the side of a hill.  Most of the houses are empty, but a few have been refurbished and people are living in them who work in the pulp mill just down the road.  I walked directly to the houses on the side of the hill with Sizolwethu in tow.  It is incredible how fast mother-nature reclaims what is hers.  She sends weeds to grow through the sidewalks to crack them, lays vegetation on roofs to cave them in, and does her best to dismantle mans unattained work in such a short period that it never fails to amaze me.  There are trees growing through and inside of some of the houses.  I am talking about trees growing out and above the caved in roofs.  In 15 years, this has happened.

Actually, that roof had to cave in first for the tree to even begin seed and grow.  It all happens so quickly.  I always complain that time is in too much of a hurry, but it is not just my life that seems to want to move at an unreasonable speed.  The whole world is doing that.  Maybe I need a girlfriend again that I have to wait for all of the time…. just to feel time drag sometimes…

Once a thriving town of 10,000 people, Bulembu became a ghost town of 50 people after the mine closed in 2001.

Bulembu.

The worker hierarchy (actually lower-archy) is clearly in place here.  The highest houses that the workers had to climb to after a long shift of mining asbestos on the side of the hill are one room shacks where a stove is in the porch that doubles as a kitchen.  The toilets and all sources of water for these shacks are grouped away from the small homes.  Those were the houses for the unskilled labourers.  I made friends with a man employed at the pulp mill who is living in one of the small shacks.  He showed me the inside of his home that he told me he lives in rent free.

One room shack.

Down on the next terrace is where the man who organized the rebel convi-van lived.  He had a house with a bedroom, a living room, and connected to the house was a separate room for a wood stove kitchen and on the other side of that was a toilet and a shower.  Robert, was in a house likely of a foreman’s rank.  In the soil, in front of the house, my friend was growing a garden of vegetables.

A spacious kitchen.

Down the next rung on of terraces were fairly nice houses that had electricity.  Yes, it took three levels of rank before electricity came into play.  They were the houses for managers and they were on the flat in the bottom of the valley.

Homes with electricity!

Beginning an ascend up the other side of the valley were the luxury houses.  The homes were large and a few of them had built-on garages.  Sizolwethu told me that some of the houses had swimming pools.  These homes were the homes of the engineers and the project managers.

You could actually see life rankings from anywhere you stood.  As an unskilled labourer, you could look at the next row of houses as a goal and then the next row as your goal after that if the corporate ladder worked here, which I assume it did not.  Nonetheless, it was set up as psychological leading…

I met Sizolwethu’s father, Moses, and talk to him about the town.  He is head of security in the village and they live in the former postmaster’s house, though they do not have anything to do with the post.  I asked Moses about industry to which he told me, “We have dairy over on that hill.  There is a bakery here.  There is the mill where they make charcoal, pulp and planks.  And, we have the bakery.”  He had mentioned the bakery twice.  I liked how proud he was of the bakery business that was wafting out the glorious smell of fresh bread.

There is a museum, formerly the finishing factory, on a hill attached to a giant cable system that runs out of the town.  At the museum are giant buckets that were once attached to the cable system and were filled with asbestos.  Once full, the buckets travelled via cable for 15 miles to Barberton, South Africa.  Fifteen miles of cable travelling asbestos!

It was a pretty remarkable system.  But, it sure makes one wonder about the effects of the asbestos of the workers.  It would be fascinating to know the life expectancy of those who devoted their sweat, tears and lungs-bottoms filled with asbestos to the company before it went into liquidation and terminated their work and their town in 2001.

In 2006, the ghost-town was sold to Bulembu Ministeirs Swaziland where a home for 2,000 children orphaned by HIV/AIDS was set up.  The town is now trying to regenerate itself as a tourist mecca.  It is very green, and very beautiful.  However tough is it to think of a vacation and an asbestos mine in the same thought-frame, that is the goal of Bulembu.  The people of the town are extremely friendly and I truly hope a prosperous future will find them.

Getting home to Lobamba just outside of Mbabane was something of a chore from Bulembu.  The convi (to no surprise) did not come and the convi that was supposed to later bring the children home from school, my last resort to leave the area, did not arrive after an hour.  Eventually, three men and I got into the back of one of the only passing pick-up trucks that hauled us in the box to Piggs Peak.  The last bus from Piggs Peak to Mbabane was leaving at 19:00.  I arrived in Piggs Peak at 18:40.  Lucky.  From Mbabane, there were only a few convis in the bus park as it was so late, but one of them happened to be the ride I needed to get back to Gable’s Shopping Center where Legends Backpacker Lodge is proximity located.  I was too late for the supermarket that closed at 20:00, so I went to a bar, ate a meal that I chased down with two beers and headed back to the hostel.

It was a long one today…

Today we wanted to bring you the story of the inspiring and selfless Susan Mutschler who is currently in Bulembu helping educate the young residents.

From Susan:

"I'd love to share that I was called to come to Bulembu through a video of the Tenors' visit to Africa that I just happened to see online. Victor asked the viewers to search their hearts to see if there was something they could do to help and I knew I could share my experience as a teacher for 20 plus years.

Since my arrival two weeks ago, I've been substituting for absent teachers and will also be assisting in one of the Grade 3 classrooms. It has been a great adventure, learning how to pronounce the children's Swazi names and enjoying their beautiful smiles, bright eyes, and warm hugs! The teachers here so appreciate the individual attention volunteers can give the children. Please search your heart, too! Is there something you can do to help?

Anyone can volunteer to help however is best for them- a couple of weeks, to a couple of months, or more. My journey has just begun as I'm here for three months, June, July, and August. 

Thank you to Victor, Remi, Fraser, and Clifton whose example of compassion will surely change many lives forever! <3  

I hope my story motivates you too to come help this wonderful, wonderful community

 God bless!!"

  We are overwhelmed that our fans give from their heart, in their actions. It is easy to sit back and watch, but to be part of the solution the lasting solution to get this community back on their feet is awe-inspiring. Susan, we salute you!