Schmool's Driving School

In addition to my volunteer work teaching English at Diepsloot Combined School and managing a not-real travel agency called Time Pressure Tours, I have created another pseudo-business. I am now sole proprietor and instructor at my own faux driving school affectionately known (to me) as Schmool's Driving School. 

A majority of South Africans don't know how to drive. This is not a funny way of saying the people here are bad drivers, the way one might complain, "people in New Jersey can't drive," it's an actual fact. A report that I found online called the National Household Travel Survey 2013 indicated that as of 2013 only 48% of African males and 39% of African females in South Africa had driver's licenses. That leaves a majority who don't have licenses and who likely don't know how to drive. 

There are several reasons why a large percentage of people here can't drive and don't have licenses.  First, many people have spent little to no time even riding in cars. Unlike a 16 year old in America, who maybe has never driven but who knows what a seat belt is and how it works, what the mirrors are for and how to adjust the seat, many people here do not have this basic knowledge. Combine this with the fact that driving school is expensive for a poor person (a quick check on Google shows five lessons cost R700) and it's hard to practice driving if you don't own a car and don't know anyone who does. Finally, if a person does manage to learn to drive, supposedly getting a license is notoriously difficult. There are many stories about corrupt agents who demand bribes in order issue licenses. 

I have only had two students attend my driving school. Confidence was first. I took her driving a few times. And then today, I had my second student, Clement.

Clement works as a gardener for my friend Meghan. I have met him on numerous occasions when I've visited her house.  Meghan told me months ago she had the idea of teaching Clement to drive and was thinking of doing so, but that her husband wouldn't go for it. 

Luckily, Mr. Deep doesn't have a problem with me teaching people to drive. That's because I don't tell him about it until after the fact. But rest assured, I teach people in a very un-busy parking lot so there is little risk or danger.

On the subject of finding a suitable parking lot to conduct my lessons, it's actually quite difficult. Think about where you first learned to drive. Maybe you learned at a school or a church during a time when school or church was not in session and the parking lot was vacant. Meghan told me she learned to drive in a housing development that was under construction but where no one was living. All of these are great options if you don't live in Joburg. 

In Joburg, every parking lot of every school, mall, construction site, church or whatever is under the surveillance of a massive amount of security. Every school or church that I've ever seen is walled and gated with a security guard manning the gate. Every mall has numerous security guards patrolling the parking lots at all times. The same goes for construction sites. 

Luckily, I found a lot near my house that seemed a perfect location for Schmool's School to set up shop, a defunct shopping centre that only houses one business, a restaurant called Celestino's Pizza. If you live in Joburg then you know this parking lot. If you don't, let me describe it for you. 

I am going to guess that about ten to fifteen years ago, this shopping centre, called The Fern was bustling. That was likely before ten additional modern shopping centres were built within five kilometres of The Fern. Even though there are tons of houses near the Fern and more being built all the time, The Fern is decrepit and the shopping centre looks like it's about to fall down. There may be more than one business functioning at The Fern, but the only one that I know of is Celestino's Pizza, a very nice place which has good pizza and food and even a nice atmosphere once you're inside. Even though Celestino's is good, it is not very busy at lunch and therefore this venue is perfect for daytime driving lessons. At least it was the last time I tried it. 

Wide open lot, perfect for driving lessons. 

Very little action at The Fern. 

Clement has patiently waited for months for his driving lesson as Meghan told him about it a while ago. When Meghan and Clement arrived at The Fern, I asked Clement if he had ever driven before and he said no. So I figured no information was too basic. I showed him how to adjust the seat and explained the mirrors and how to use them. I told him the difference between an automatic transmission and a manual (luckily Schmool is automatic.) I also shared the difference between the brake and the gas pedal and told him that only the right foot should be used, regardless of the pedal being depressed. After this brief but informative overview, we began the driving. I showed him how to start the ignition and put the car in gear and how to check the mirrors before pulling out of the parking space. Then, he drove us around the parking lot a few times. 

Clement was a great student, he quickly got the hang of the brakes, the gas and the steering. We had no near collisions. He was also extremely polite replying "yes ma'am" whenever I told him anything. I had just started preparing for the second part of the lesson, the part where he would pull into a parking space, park and then back out of the same space when we were approached by a security guard. Yes, even The Fern, which really has very little to protect, has a security guard. 

I proactively explained to the security guard that I was giving a driving lesson because I couldn't imagine that it would pose a problem. I thought he approached us because we were driving around, suspiciously, in circles. He told me that driving lessons were not allowed. He made it sound like a recurring problem, people teaching driving in the nearly abandoned Fern parking lot. Maybe it is an issue, given the lack of options. He then pointed a light pole, which was leaning quite heavily to one side and explained that another time, when someone was learning to drive in the lot, he or she crashed into that pole. I convinced him to allow us to continue our lesson for a few more minutes but that was the best I could do as there was really no way to hide our actions considering that there was nothing else going on in the lot to distract the guard. 

I felt badly for Clement that the lesson was cut short and so I asked he and Meghan if they wanted to have lunch. We went into Celestino's where a friendly waiter that I kind of know was working. I introduced him to Meghan and Clement and explained the driving lesson and told him what the security guard had said about the light post.  He said that the light post had been hit by a motorist a long time ago and that it wasn't hit by someone learning to drive, but rather by a drunk guy. 

Even armed with this knowledge there was no way to continue the lesson so we ate our pizza and found out a little bit about Clement. 

Clement

Clement is 28 years old, actually he will officially turn 28 tomorrow  He comes from Lesotho. He came to South Africa because there are very few jobs in Lesotho. His family has a farm where they grow maize, sorghum and pumpkins. He doesn't like the taste of sorghum beer but he does enjoy regular beer which Meghan gives him when she has some leftover after parties. On the family farm they also raise cows and donkeys. Clement has nothing against farming except that it's very unpredictable. If there is no rain or too much rain for example, it can become extremely difficult to survive. Clement prefers to have a steady income and earn a salary. 

Clement has a wife and five year old son named Tatalo. They live with Clement's parents, his two older sister's and one younger brother on the farm. Clement is the only family member who has left and come to work in South Africa. Clement's home in Lesotho, called Leribe, is four hours by bus from Joburg. The bus costs R250 each way. Meghan has told me that Clement very rarely goes home, as infrequently as once per year at Christmas. 

When Clement first came to South Africa, he got a job working construction for "Mr. Chris." Mr. Chris is Meghan's landlord and he also owns several other properties. Clement had never worked construction before and he learned on the job. He now not only works as Meghan's gardener, but he lives at a home that belongs to Mr. Chris, which is under construction, doing work like clearing trees and serving as security for the empty house. I asked him if the house he stays in, the one that is under construction, has electricity and and a kitchen and he said that it does, although Meghan said that there was a time when there was no electricity in the house.  Clement speaks Sesotho, English and Zulu. He learned English at school but did not learn Zulu until he came to South Africa. He told us Zulu is "easy" to learn. 

The Mountain Kingdom: Part 3

You can read my first two posts about our trip to Lesotho here and here.

After the visit to the sangoma, the village tour continued. We were led inside a building where some kind of village council meeting was taking place. Adam said the topic that the council was discussing had something to do with finances needed so that a funeral could be held. I wasn't able to take any photos of the meeting but there were about 12-15 women sitting in a circle on the floor of a dark, one room building. A few of the women had babies with them. Even though it was a warm and sunny day, all of the women were wearing lots of clothing including long skirts, long sleeve shirts and in some cases blankets. The Basotho shepherds that we saw also were wearing blankets even in the hot daytime sun. I am not sure why. 

We left the women to their meeting and drove a bit further down the road to visit a shebeen. A shebeen is a place where beer is brewed. In the past shebeen referred to an unlicensed and often illegal establishment selling alcohol but these days a lot of shebeens are legitimate businesses, although the one we visited may not have been. I have wanted to taste homemade sorghum beer for a while and finally I had my chance. 

Sorghum close up.

From a distance the sorghum plants look like corn.

My parents and me outside the shebeen/cafe.

Sorghum grain.

Adam tasting the sorghum beer. He told us that he was "scared" of sorghum beer because the amount of alcohol in it varies greatly from batch to batch and one could never be quite sure how strong it would be. I read on another website that the alcohol content can vary between 1% and 8%.

Brewing the beer and stirring it with a huge stick. Photo credit to my mom. 

The sorghum beer is light in colour but cloudy. It did not have a strong alcohol taste but it was very sour. I thought it tasted a little like grapefruit juice. I only had one sip but I didn't hate it and would certainly be open to trying it again if and when the opportunity presents itself. 

The rest of the weekend in Lesotho was spent hiking, horseback riding and enjoying the scenery. If you ever have the chance to visit Lesotho, I recommend staying at the Maliba Lodge. It wasn't perfect as there was an incident when we were served raw meatballs (in fairness they were cooked on the outside) but other than that the food was good, the setting was spectacular and the rooms were clean. And if it's good enough for Prince Harry and King Letsie III, it's good enough for us. 

The hike to black pool. 

My horse was named Pinky. She was a chestnut and she did have a pink hue. She was a great horse very chilled and steady.

Pinky close up. 

Meghan's horse, Bullet (left) and Pinky sharing a drink.

Our horseback riding guides were named Joseph and Justice. 

Joseph crafted himself a hat out of branches to protect himself from the sun. 

The Mountain Kingdom: Part 2

Beautiful Maliba Lodge in Lesotho.

If you missed part one of our trip to Lesotho The Mountain Kingdom, you can find it here.

The morning of our first full day in Lesotho, we made arrangements to tour a local village. Normally, the village tour includes a visit to a school but as it was Saturday school was not in session. The village tour offered by Maliba Lodge is a genuine tour of a village. There is no reenactment, no natives wearing costumes or anything phony. The tour involves going to a village and seeing what is happening there. It's the real deal. 

Our tour guide was named Adam. What was particularly cute and funny was that Adam was also our waiter for breakfast at the lodge that morning. Adam was soft-spoken and based on my informal research quietness and shyness seem to be traits of the Basotho people. Adam's English is very good though, so I can understand why he was selected to be a tour guide. 

Adam is not from the village he took us to, he is from Butha-Buthe another village located about 40 kilometers from Maliba Lodge, but he clearly was very familiar with the village we visited as everyone there seemed to know him. Sadly I can't remember the name of the village we went to. The name is similar to the Sotho word for the round houses that the people live in. The word is not rondevels but another word, which I can't remember.

Adam our tour guide. I'll explain his hat shortly.

Round houses.

For the tour we had to drive ourselves and Adam to the village about 15-20 minutes from the lodge. The village is located on the side of the main, two lane road. It consists of a handful of round houses (again, what are they called?) and some other buildings. Unlike poor communities such as Diepsloot, there are no shacks and no trash. Everything is very clean, with lots of grass, foliage and crops. 

Immediately as we arrived a bunch of curious kids came out of nowhere and began following us around as though one of us was the Pied Piper. The younger kids did not seem to speak English but a few of the older ones, aged ten or so, did. 

We visited the village sangoma, a traditional healer who uses animal bones and herbs to make medicines. I had been hoping to visit a sangoma for a while so I was thrilled for the chance.  In addition to knowing about herbs and healing, sangomas also believe that deceased ancestors play a role in influencing the lives of the living. Sangomas are believed to have certain "powers" such as psychic abilities and the capacity to communicate with dead ancestors. A person can't just decide one day to become a sangoma, sangomas are chosen for their roles when their ancestors visit them during a dream and direct them. Adam told us anyone can learn about herbs and medical uses for them, but a true sangoma must have had the dream and therefore, the calling. 

The sangoma that Adam took us to was an 89 year old woman.  She looked quite healthy and young for her age, except that she did not have any teeth. We visited her in her round hut. While it was small, all four of us plus Adam and the sangoma were able to sit comfortably. It was dark inside the hut, with the only light coming in through the doorway. The hut had a dirt floor and was filled with interesting items including lots of fancy clothing, such as the hat made from porcupine quills that Adam is wearing in the photo above, clothing made of animal skins and clothing with intricate bead work. There were also piles of roots and dried plants, animal bones, a snake skin and other materials gathered by the sangoma to be used for healing. Along one wall were a bunch of jars and cans which I assume were filled with herbs and other found treasures. 

Some kind of animal skin hanging from the thatched ceiling to dry. 

Fortune telling objects. 

The sangoma.

The sangoma did not speak English so Adam explained everything to us and translated for her. After the overview about the dream and the clothing the sangoma asked if anyone wanted his or her fortune read. Only my friend Meghan was brave enough to do so. The cost was R100 (about $7.00)

The fortune reading began with Meghan taking a handful of the fortune telling objects shown in the photo above. The objects included shells, dominos, a coin and some animal bones. Meghan was instructed to blow on the handful before dropping the objects onto a mat so they could be read. When the reading began it was unimpressive especially if you're cynical of such things, like me. First, the sangoma cited the coin saying that Meghan was blessed with wealth. Kind of obvious since we arrived in a car wearing nice clothing. Next, the sangoma said that Meghan suffered from occasional headaches. While Meghan does sometimes have migraines, most people do suffer from headaches now and then so that didn't seem like any great revelation that wouldn't be true for most people. Also, the sangoma said that Meghan suffered from stress. This might sound funny and of course its a generalization, but I think black people in Southern Africa think that white people, as a whole, are very stressed out. So again, I didn't put a lot of credibility into what we were hearing. 

But then things got a little more interesting. The sangoma said that Meghan had been suffering from back pain and described the pain and where in her back it was. For a few weeks leading up to the trip, Meghan's back had been bothering her and at times the pain was quite bad. The sangoma also told Meghan it was important that she announce daily where she was and where she was going as her ancestors were having trouble finding her. So for example, Meghan needs to start saying things out loud, such as "I'm going to Sandton today" and the like. 

To rid herself of the back pain, Meghan was advised by the sangoma to go home, slaughter a goat, and have a party with friends to consume the goat meat together. Meghan was also told to get some tobacco snuff, have all of her friends sit in a circle, put a bit of the snuff on every one's closed fist and then ask everyone to snort it, Finally, the sangoma said Meghan had to drink lots of water every day. Meghan is an animal lover so I don't see her slaughtering a goat. But still it was an interesting experience.

Since our return from Lesotho I have told three African friends that we visited a sangoma. These three friends are all from Zimbabwe and all pretty much had the same reaction even though these were three separate conversations. They all thought it was strange and surprising that we would do such a thing.

Each of them said they did not believe in sangomas or their powers and none of them admitted to ever having visited one. One friend did say that he thought some of the herbs could help you if you were sick or injured and that he didn't have a problem with that part of it but that he did not believe in ancestor worship. Another friend seemed a little more concerned telling me to "watch out for those people" (meaning sangomas) as they can "cause lightning to strike a person." 

The Mountain Kingdom: Part 1

Beautiful Lesotho

I'll be honest. Before I came to South Africa I had never heard of Lesotho. I don't remember learning any African geography in high school. As I was not the most conscientious student, not remembering doesn't necessarily mean that it wasn't taught to me. I do remember learning European geography (I'm old, Czechoslovakia was still a country back then) which makes me think that African geography was not taught.  In case your geography lessons also fell short, I'll give you a little information about Lesotho and then tell you about our trip there. 

The first thing you need to know is that Lesotho is a country which is physically surrounded by South Africa. The name is pronounced Les Sue Too. In many African languages a Th is pronounced like a T. Just one of the things I've learned in my job as a fake English teacher. The country is also known as the Mountain Kingdom of Lesotho because Lesotho has a king, Letsie III. He recently stayed at the Maliba Lodge, the same place we stayed while in Lesotho. Even more exciting, King Letsie stayed in the same room at Maliba, number six, where my parents stayed. And, as an aside, Prince Harry also stayed in room six recently. Letsie III is a constitutional monarch meaning that his role is largely ceremonial and he doesn't have absolute power. 

Lesotho declared independence from the U.K. in 1966. According to Wikipedia about 40% of its two million plus people live below the international poverty line. Lesotho is mountainous and rural and even though it's physically inside of South Africa, it looks and feels completely different. 

Lesotho has few cities including Maseru (pronounced Mas Ser Roo with a little rolling on the r) the capitol, which is where we flew into from Joburg. That collective gasp that you just heard is the sound of shock and dismay from South Africans reading this post who are baffled to learn that anyone would fly to Lesotho when the distance could be easily driven in just five and a half hours. South Africans love to drive places. They drive from Joburg to Cape Town or from Joburg to Mozambique completely unfazed at spending 12-15 hours in the car each way. But in advance of this trip, Mr. Deep and I decided to fly because our trip to Lesotho was scheduled on the heels of another trip with my visiting parents to Timbavati (next to the Kruger Park) and that was a long drive of six hours each way. 

It's a good thing we decided to fly because about two weeks prior to the trip we found out that Mr. Deep would not be able to go with us to Lesotho as he had to return to the U.S. for a business trip. Yes, this trip was to discuss his next move reinforcing the knowledge that our remaining time here in South Africa is limited. 

I invited my friend and fellow American expat, Meghan, to join my parents and me in Lesotho. It's too bad that Mr. Deep wasn't able to go as he would have liked the scenery and the night sky full of stars an advantage to being in the middle of nowhere without pesky light pollution. But, there are some things about Lesotho that would have driven Mr. Deep crazy.

Specifically, things in Lesotho move very, very slowly. Some people from Europe or the U.S. would say that things in South Africa move slowly but compared to Lesotho, South Africa moves at lightening speed. 

When we arrived at the airport there was just one guy whose job it was to collect all the luggage from the plane, load it onto a cart and bring it inside the terminal. There was a conveyor belt but either it didn't work or it just wasn't used.  Then, we headed out to get our rental car, and the woman behind the counter hand filled out the paperwork. She didn't ask us if we wanted insurance or a GPS or anything like that. She just gave us one of the two cars that she had on site and that was it. There was also no running water in the airport at all. There were regular sinks and toilets but the water just wasn't working and when we returned to the airport four days later to fly back to Joburg, the water still wasn't working.

I think there are only two roads in Lesotho. The roads were paved and seemed to be in much better shape that the holey roads in South Africa. You would think a limited number of roads would make it easy to drive from the airport to lodge without getting lost...but you'd be incorrect. 

We drove for a while and even though we brought our own GPS and the Ops Department/TPT had printed out directions, somehow we missed a turn and ended up at the border crossing moments away from reentering South Africa. We had to explain to the border agents that we didn't want to go back to South Africa, that we had just come from there. One guy asked me to come with him and he took me to a small office where a tourism official gave me some maps in an effort to get us back on the right track. We turned around and then began our three hour drive to the lodge. The trip is only 154 kilometres (96 miles) but all of the roads are just two lanes, with lots of speed bumps referred to as "humped zebras" meaning they are painted with black and white stripes. Because of the speed bumps, or possibly simply because it's Lesotho, people drive extremely slowly. So slowly that I am not sure they are putting any pressure on the gas pedal at all, they may just be coasting. Mr. Deep would have been extremely bothered by the slow drivers as even when we used to drive on the New York State Thruway he would constantly complain about other drivers, being too slow, and "boxing him in like a turtle's pecker."

The drive may have been slow but it was beautiful and interesting. There were people walking along the roads and we saw numerous shepherds dressed in traditional clothing meaning wrapped in blankets, carrying large sticks and wearing cone shaped straw hats, called Basotho hats. Unfortunately my camera and phone were in the (boot) trunk of the car so I don't have any good photos of shepherds with flocks. 

Finally, after a long day of travel we arrived at Maliba Lodge. The lodge is the only five star hotel in Lesotho and it's name is pronounced Ma Deeb A as an L is Sotho is pronounced as a d. When Mr. Deep proofed this post he asked "if an l is a d does that mean the name of the country name is pronounced Des Sue Too?" And the answer is no, it's not and I have no idea why. Regardless, the lodge is in the Tsehlanyane National park and it offers gorgeous views from every angle. 

Kids on the side of the road. Photo credit to my mom.

View of the chalets at Maliba Lodge.