SCHOOLS OPEN-SORT OF
Schools were due to open for the third term on Tuesday, September 13. The thing is, the government promised to pay for the orphans and vulnerable children (OVCs), and government still owes E80 million (about $11.5 million) to the schools. It is rumored that some schools have not received any OVC money for two years. So the principal's association decided not to open schools until the money is paid. Bottom line-we are still not teaching all the form 1, 2, and 4 students. We are teaching the form 3 and 5 students, because they take their big and important tests beginning in about 1 month. It's Monday morning when I'm writing this, and we'll see what the plan is in about an hour when the students assemble.
Opinions on the matter vary. Some say that the students are losing out (of course that's true, though I saw few long faces on the form ones when they were told last week to come back Monday); others say schools simply cannot run without money (a teacher colleague has a friend who is a principal in a school around Manzini; the principal showed my friend a bank balance for the school, which stood at a whopping E2000. Who among you could run a high school indefinitely on less than $300?). One can hope the government will learn not to make promises it cannot keep.

UPDATE: "Sidziniwe kunatsa incwancwa ekhaya"
This means "We are tired of eating thin porridge at home". A form 1 student uttered that just minutes ago after assembly was dismissed. The Deputy had announced that nothing has changed and that only the form 3 and 5 students will receive instruction while the Form 1, 2 and 4 students will again go home. They received a letter to take to their parents before they left, explaining that the schools are still waiting for the government to pay and that everyone should listen to the radio for further information. School is indefinitely closed. Interesting times.

E2400 A MONTH
I met a student (Bongani Shongwe) on the road last Wednesday and had a good chat. He owns a digital camera and used to take photos of students, charging E6 a photo. He would take the shot, travel to town and print the picture, then come back to the school to give the photo and collect the money. Students know we have a digital camera and sometimes come to us and ask for a photo. We steadfastly refuse and send them instead to Bongani, hoping that we can encourage private enterprise. I asked him if he was taking any photos these days at the school. He said he had given up on the students, as Bongani would often take the photo and return with print in hand, only to have the students never pay (future government officials?). But, he continued, he can make E600 (just under $100) on a Saturday taking photos of folks in town. He simply stands around on various streets and runs the same operation he does at school, though folks in town pay. Ingeniously, one of his locations is a small tree nursery where his sister works. The customer may arrange a backdrop consisting of vegetation of his or her choice; it's a sidewalk photo studio! With siblings to watch over at his homestead he can't go to town every weekend, but he sure has found a money maker.

INGUBO AYINAMALI
Last week Make Silolo (widow of Abner Dlamini) came for a visit. She explained that she wants to build a second garden, and sought some help with supplies and labor. We sent her off with a promise that Rudy would come over on Friday with pesticides (to kill bugs in the garden she's already planted), fencing nails, and a hammer. When he did get over there about 7:30AM, Make had already moved 20 wheelbarrow loads of cow manure from the corral onto her fields for fertilizer. "Ingubo ayinamali", she said, meaning "There's no money in the blanket", meaning "Get out of bed and get to work if you want to eat or buy anything". Good for her.Make Silolo and Jabulile. The black clothing is what widows traditionally wear for several months after the death of their husbands.
Grace and Siphesihle, Make's daughter

RANDOM ACT OF KINDNESS
On Thursday last week Kit and I went collecting cow manure on the soccer field. I truly enjoy this job, as it makes the soccer field nicer for the players and provides good nutrients for our plants.
We found two boys and a girl at the field, just out having a good time. After a few minutes one of the boys walked over to us with a half-dozen dry cow pies skewered on a dried tree branch. He pushed and shook the manure off the stick, just like you'd remove the meat and veggies from a shish-ka-bob. Later the girl helped out too, picking up manure with her bare hands and depositing it in the barrow. I did not expect this. I'm not sure the word "heartwarming" goes with cow pies, but it was touching.

SPONSORED RIDES AND NEW WHEELS
I mentioned in a previous newsletter that some folks spotted me the entry fee for a mountain bike race in the lowveld on Saturday, 10 September. Friends in town let me spend Friday night in town so a guy who works for Inyatsi Construction company could pick me up at 5:45AM to get us to the starting line on time. The ride there and back with Vitor Oliverra was great (Vitor even brought me all the way to our house), and the race was a blast. Vitor and I dueled for a while on the course, but he eventually left me in the dust. It seemed I could catch up and pull ahead of him going up hills, but he recovered and went ahead on the flats and downhills. I passed another guy twice-twice!-on uphills, and we were wheel-to-wheel for about 6km on some flats (with me in front). But I knew I didn't have the energy to keep up that pace, and after a while he went ahead of me and I never saw him again. I suspect this has to do with bike race strategy (something like let your opponent lead for a while then pass him), which I know nothing about.
So I spent the last few kilometers by myself-until about 2km remained. I saw behind me two guys I had passed quite a time before, and I did NOT want them to catch me so close to the end. I am making an effort not to be very competitive about this biking thing (partly because I'll never win anything anyway), but really-that would have been too much, to have left these guys behind so long ago just to lose to them at the end. So I really pushed hard the last km or so, at the risk of leg cramps. I didn't look back (I know that much is important in a sprint) and indeed crossed the finish line ahead of my would-be overtakers. A small success! I was position 26 out of 28-yikes, I thought I'd done better than that! No matter-it really was fun.
The race passed through 3 game reserves; one guy said he saw a giraffe. I did notice that the manure along the trails was neither cow or dog (call it hillbilly awareness), and I did see some bleached-out animal bones. It did cross my mind a couple times, What if there's a lion in one of these reserves? They are predators, I'm distracted (creaking bike, hot and sweaty, I'm trying to see the trail markers), and I'd be an easy take. I talked to someone afterwards about that who had the same vague, disturbing thought. Fortunately, no one suffered such an incident.
That race was on Saturday. On following Monday (the day before school was supposed to open), I put Jabu on my back and went for a ride. By the time we returned to the house, the back sprocket wouldn't turn the wheel when I pedaled; my transmission was shot. I thought "Hmmm, don't know how much this will cost; the shocks are failing; and the rear gear shifter is also going out. And there's an E1400 ($200) second-hand bike at the bike shop for sale, which I've pedaled around the parking lot and liked." My dad was in sales all his life; I approached Ruth, hoping I had inherited a some of his skills. "Ruth, my back sprocket doesn't work..." etc. I could see she knew where I was headed. "Is the bike still at the shop?", she asked. I quickly called and confirmed that it was. "Hold on to it for 10 minutes, guys, I'm negotiating with Ruth!" They chuckled on the other end and said they would. We looked at the finances and determined that I would go into debt a little bit, while Ruth most generously offered to give me some of her discretionary money. The deal was set. I called back the folks at the shop and told them I'd pick up the bike Saturday. Ah, what a great wife I have!
As we did not teach that week of school, I picked up the bike on Wednesday instead. I also caught a lift with Mamba to town on Thursday and deposited the old bike there; they'll fix it up and resell it. Eddie (employee at the shop) said I should get about E1000 out of it. That will cover Ruth's generosity and most of the debt I incurred. Hot diggity!
When I picked up the new bike, the shop owner asked "Do you want to ride in the Siteki race on October 1st? Some folks have volunteered to pay your entry fee." I was happily shocked. "Why do they do this?" I asked. "I sent out an e-mail and folks volunteered", is what the owner said. I was thinking it would be nice if the rest of the family could come, so I asked if there would be kiddie things (jumping castle, food, etc.) at the finish line. I got a lukewarm answer on that, and decided I would have to put this one to Ruth gently and not expect too much, and not get bummed if she said no. She said that it's actually easier if I just go by myself, as it's a bit of a logistics puzzle getting everyone moved around. So, she let me go. What a great wife again. I hope I help her even a fraction of the amount she helps me. Accommodation in town the night before is arranged, and Vitor will again pick me up on the way (he'd already planned to do this race). As this is a road race and I'll be riding the "Silver Queen" (that's the name Ruth gave it; she had dibs on naming it, as it would not be here without her generosity) with fat dirt tires and low gearing, I'll be dreadfully slow; anyone who wants to pass me with their thin-tired, high-geared, sleek-frame road bikes will leave me far behind. But the experience will, I suspect, be fun again.
Ruth heard many years ago that one trick for living overseas for a long time is to have hobbies you can only do overseas. I know there's lots of biking in America, but I don't think I'd get as many "free rides" there as I do here. Neither do I think I'd be able to collect cow manure with my girls as much as I do.

NSUKUMHILLBILLY
Your 4 year old daughter, while helping you collect cow manure on the soccer field, has this to say about the quality and quantity of bovine-generated fertilizer: "This is the bomb!"Hillbilly pre-teenKit with a load of hand-picked free fertilizer
Have a nice day,Rudy for the gang