On the Path Where I live...and shop...

When I look at my photos on this blog I'm always amazed at what doesn't show up:  the broken glass that barefoot children somehow never step on, the animal dung, the trash...the startling objects that cross my path. Herewith, a few examples:

This was once attached to a donkey, we think. . .

My neighbor Pearl is standing beside the termite mound behind my house. Every day I gaze upon this and wonder--termites drag things up from the pit of the earth, including diamonds, which is why Botswana is now the number one producer of quality diamonds in the world. Could there be a diamond in there? Right behind my house...

Laundry day in my village often means people hang their clothes on the chain link fences around their homes. Very resourceful, I thought, until the day the dogs who accompany me on my walk decided to leave their mark...

The neon made it hard to photograph, but this is my favorite spot in the Riverwalk Mall (those of you who read #1 ladies detective agency stories will be familiar with Riverwalk). If you can't read it, it says Capital Medical Centre/ Arts of Beauty Salon/Psychiatric Clinic. If that's not full service, I don't know what is...

My landlady Gladys is a lovely woman, kind and generous and a black-belt shopper. One day she took me to what I could have sworn was Home Depot, and when I looked for a rug, she showed me how to test drive it. That's her friend Cynthia looking on. This was the best purchase I have made so far (still waiting for the diamonds)...

Riverwalk Mall again. Last summer I was stopped dead in my tracks when I came across a Yankee Candle store in a Swedish Castle in Germany. Yankee Candle originated about 10 miles from where I live in Western Massachusetts and although I'm happy they are a thriving business I am always stunned to find them so far from home. I know I caused a scene when I saw them prominently displayed in BOTSWANA...try to imagine Balsam candles in the desert...

oh oh, Koko

When I arrived here in Kopong--was it really two months ago?!--the driver of the van carrying all my worldly goods pulled up to my little house and said 'Oh oh, koko'. At the time I did not see what he saw:  I would be living in the midst of a small chicken factory. Mma Kgopo, my landlady, teaches history at the secondary school in Gaborone. Her husband, who studied in Florida, teaches aeronautics at the University of Botswana in Gaborone. In addition, they raise and slaughter 'broiler' chickens. There are a few free-range koko running about the compound (and waking me with their crowing at indecent hours) but they seem to be 'for show.' Batswana  prefer the white broilers that reach slaughter size in only six weeks.

That means that at least every two weeks, sometimes more often, Gladys and her Zimbabwe maid Gail set about killing and cleaning any number of fat white koko. This past week the whole family set up shop to provide koko for a number of New Year's feasts. I decided to help...

waiting for the axe

Gail delivers, felix watches

I pushed the button on the camera but I didn't look---

a quick dip to loosen feathers

mother daughter plucking time

okay, I'll try...

how am I doing?

I plucked two of the 31 koko that day. One more skill to add to my resume? If you look closely you can see the free-range rooster to the left of my hat--he dug a nice hole and stayed in it the whole time we worked.