On a high!

As we inched up the rough,dirt road of the Sani Pass,I asked the driver/guide whether there were taxes in Lesotho.Oh yes,he replied,but they all have to be 4 wheel drive up here! A similar accent-induced misunderstanding occurred later,while in the Basotho (Lesotho) village. Having just photographed a shepherd neaxt to his pile of wood and stacked,dried dung,I enquired whether it was good-quality shit. No speak English,was the reply.Luckily,our guide was fluent in their language,Susutu.Ask him if it is good shit,I said.The answer came back: he does not wear a shirt!
Inside the rondavel hut,the Basuto woman had treated us to a taste of their local  home-made beer and bread.In the centre of the hut,a round hearth was set into the floor.There, lay a pan of bread underneath a tray of embers.I have never tasted such delicious bread for decades and I kept it for tomorrow's lunch.
The woman is totally responsible for the interior of the hut.She makes the floor and plasters the wall. When the man wants to enter, he must first knock and ask permission. I asked if the woman had to knock and seek permission to exit,but no,she did not. (How fair is that then?).
This side of Lesotho, the east side, is very thinly populated.Mostly, you see shepherd-boys,in their teens, who, form an early age, are sent out to take the animals 60-70 kilometers for pasturing.They are away from the village for more than 6 months at a time,usually living in single, stone huts, guarded by their ferocious dogs.Their main clothing is a blanket,their main food is maize. Hardly time-share material.
The day before, a motley group of us had climbed in the Drakensberg mountains.They adjoin Leotho.Our guide was taking us to see the paintings of the Bushmen,or Sani.They inhabited this area from about 8000 years ago until about 1880.Viewing one very fine example of this fascinating art,painted onto a large overhanging rock,there were clear footprints made by a leopard that morning.
I was sleeping at the Sani Pass Lodge,in a dormitory.The first night I was in bed before 9,at which hour everybody is asked to keep as quiet as possible.Instead,down in the kitchen below, a group decided to start cooking. I tried for some time to ignore the loud voices and clanging of pans. My patience drained away,I asked them to keep the noise down. That will be difficult, said one. With a mouth like that,I suppose it would! At 5 next morning, they were cooking breakfast! I heard one girl ask the time. I shouted down,half past five! This group apart, I met lovely people, of all ages and backgrounds, offering good company.
Happy New Year!
Feliz Ano Nuevo!
Eric.

Photos
1 Sani Pass into Lesotho.
2 2 shepherd boys in Lesotho.
3 Home cooked bread to die for.
4 The lady who cooked the bread,outside her hut.
5 Man with the dung.
6 The dung.

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