MANN Mission: we mount the ex army truck and head to Nanduli..in search of a goat

Ali: left look out

Without question one of the strangest trips of my life.  Imagine a huge army truck, really huge dating from 1960's built for the Cold War and imported from Germany by Dominik to Durban and driven overland. 

We have two lookouts precariously balanced on the front and a cargo of immensely excitable whooping cutana (bush knife) swinging people, and Peter - who are so enjoying the clanking, hulking dominance of the strada to Nanduli.  Dominik is driving and me and Galen are upfront perched on the unstable detachable seats that are semi covered in kudu skin and smell rather strongly of rotting meat.

Admao: right look out



Forca!  The road ahead

 The cutana wielders have been instructed to cut any overhanging branches.  And in between whenever a stretch of road without huge holes appears everyone cheers Dominik on to pick up speed.  Right at the front, against the metal grill that divides the cabin and large open back, is a mother and child, the child is being rocketed or poked neatly into a hole in the metal grid but like the mother she is smiling and laughing – those in the front decide she is possibly the most resilient child in history.

Usual employment of the Truck

This truck is used for road making and carrying overly large piles of wood, a huge water tank or similar.  However on this occasion it is being employed simply to go to Nanduli to... pick up a goat. 

I kept on wondering if there were other reasons to mount this exuberant voyage – but there really were not.  Well we might collect Maria who could help prepare the beds for the students arrival tomorrow but then again she could walk or bike to Mareja, and Antonio would like some shima.  So the 20km journey was to collect a goat, Maria and shima in priority order.

We have had a run of tyre problems on the Nissan indeed three flats and two innertubes peppered with holes.  Dominik has tried every sort of patch and fixative and many days have been spent pumping, clamping, jemmying, gluing to no avail.  Now  message has been sent for two replacement tubes with or without Mechanic to come to Mareja.  Thus we have to take the MANN truck as the Nissan is wheel-less.

Shima, milled maize

The  most surreal moment of all was on approach to Nanduli, everyone started chanting M-a-reja, M-a-reja, M-a-reja.  Sounding like vagabond war mongers, I was sure all of Nanduli would be in hiding or armed to the teeth.  But in fact not - the whole town surrounded the truck and added to the already highly charged excitable occassion. 

We bought The Goat... 

Nanduli by night

a poor goat for the Mareja community party on the Scientists last night.  Galen had bought it as a thank you to the community, providing a great treat and feast, so my feelings about goats had to be suppressed.  (I find them exteremly endearing, with their wonderful coloration and willful ways.)  Ours was trussed up in the back of this most uncomfortable of transport methods.  We also bought an immense about of shima (12kgs) but Maria surprisingly didn't want to come back with us...oh  how wise

...no more than 100m outside Nanduli we heard the regular low thud of a flat tyre - but not any flat tyre a huge hulking tyre flattened.  Suddenly the jubilant arrival in Nauduli ebbed away and the dark and cold set in.   Adamo forgot the jack - how was he to know this trusty stead would get a flat tyre too?  Four hours later the tyre has been replaced for one of the extras on the back.  Many free riders had headed back to Nanduli and others had lit a fire.  At this time of year the nights are freezing.

In all it was an eight hour round trip to Nanduli and back, and a rollercoaster of emotions.  Now the goat is tethered awaiting the party (thankfully unaware)