This is where I spent my New Years weekend : Swaziland. Home of both the Swazis and also Swazi. 'Lush' is the word that comes to mind when I think of Swaziland. Green. Rolling hills covered in more shades of green than I could imagine. Rural, but charming. I say this as an outsider, someone who had a tourist's glimpse of a place so close yet so different from her own. Surely there are places in South Africa that are similar, off the beaten track, but the fact that you cross a visible border does add dimension to the fact that you are not in your own country anymore.
We stayed in a backpackers close to Manzini, the second largest city, which was equal in size to most towns I know. I have no idea how many people reside in Swaziland, but I do know that approximately 40% of all pregnant women in Swaziland are HIV+. The dreaded virus is in your face the whole time, with every second billboard reminding the Swazi folk that sex can wait, and that no one is worth a sickly and stigmatised death. Their government is a monarchy, and King Mswati III's photo adorned many a wall of the places we visited. I never any locals whether they are happy with the arrangement, whether their king is good to them or not. I read a quick paragraph somewhere that there's feelings of segregation - the royal family on their little throne, and the people herding cows and walking for miles. The Kingdom of Swaziland. It looked like paradise to me.
It reminded me why I want to live in other places, and not just visit. The tourist's view is a biased one, as the experience is very one-sided and can unfairly be influenced by bad weather. There were so many things I wanted to do that two and a half days didn't allow. 2.5 days, bah. It's barely a long weekend. When I go there again, I'll quadbike through the hills and stop at the villages for tea and stories. There are waterfalls I didn't get to see, rocks I didn't get to clamber up, I didn't sit by a fire or go to the North eastern side. I did see the stars though, and a morning sky in fluorescent pink with pastel purples. We camped on dark, soft soil in a mango orchard. Prior to this weekend, I'd never before seen a mango orchard, I just always assumed that, unlike money, mangoes grow on trees. The branches were heavy with mangoes, all still green, unfortunately. While we were setting up our domes for the weekend, a jersey cow and her calf were cruising around in the orchard, a white bird following them lazily on foot.
It was also my introduction to the backpacker's world. There is this itch inside me to pack everything up and get on a plane, go see what else is out there. There's an eternally running blockbuster show called Earth, and i really want to get a ticket to go see it. It's almost like a controlled frenzy, this urge to see and learn and absorb what I can from other places, because it's THERE. But there's this giant waiting period waiting for me. What am I saying, I'm already in it. The struggle between daydreaming about the future, and staying focussed in the now, because it still requires your attention. I trust that travelling will be one of those things that are worth the wait. I'm just so damn impatient.
I did not want to leave on Monday. But my current reality called, and I had to return to work yesterday. My friend Wessel and I got invited to play firepoi onstage at the New Years party, in front of a hundred or so strangers. Or two hundred, I've never been able to estimate the numberof people in a crowd. My brain doesn't have that function. On the way back home, we stopped at a few crafty stores where I bought earrings made from peacock feathers and the first badge in my not yet extensive collection. The badge says "I Love swaziland", and is pinned to my jeans on the floor, crumpled up next to my futon. At the craft shops a guy stopped me to mention that he saw me play fire at the New years party. Chatted a bit, and I told him that I had to be back to work the following day. He asked 'Back to playing poi?', which I found surprising. I suppose there isn't such a thing as a 9-5 face; if there is, I obviously don't have one. See, it's a sign! Quit job, pack up, leave... Soon..
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