Notes From a Clear Stream

KLAARSTROOM

“Begin at the beginning and go on ‘till you come to the end; then stop.”

Wise words from Lewis Carroll.

Klaarstroom, as in ‘clear stream”, is a tiny village set at the northern entrance to Meiringspoort, the gorge that takes you through the Swartberg Mountains dividing the Great and Little Karoo. Here we have lived for about three decades and watched the world go by. Like the stone in the river, we remain whilst events, people, stories, ideas – great and small – wash by. Here in Klaarstroom one doesn’t pursue meaning, meaning has a habit, from time to time, of finding you.

A FIRST ROAD THROUGH THE GORGE

We must return to the advice of the King of Hearts. Klaarstroom, the village, was established in the early 1860’s just after the first road through the gorge was laid, led by the roads engineer Adam de Smidt, brother on law of the renowned Thomas Bain.

For the first time farmers in the great Karoo could get their wool to the nearest harbour – Mossel Bay. Because there was water, dispersed by the melting snow in the winter, one of the early commercial wool-washeries was established alongside the river.

The gentleman from whose farm the village was carved was one Petrus Oosthuizen. He was determined that his legacy should survive him and he called the village Petersburg as the early maps show. Yes, the English “Peter”, as he was apparently married to ‘grand’ English speaking lady from the Eastern Cape.

NAMES ARE ABOUT OWNERSHIP IN VARIOUS SENSES AND POWER…

As history shows us time and time again – names are about ownership in various senses and power. Judeo-Christian writings remind us that Moses was sent away wanting to know who sent him with the bewildering “I AM”. The locals would have nothing of it and “Klaarstroom”, the name given to the first farm demarcated in the late 18th Century, held its name. Phakamisa Mayaba addressed this pesky issue of names most eloquently in his recent article.

SPEAKING OF INSIGHT PASSING US BY …

Speaking of insight passing us by, I was discussing this very matter with a delightful guest of German origin who viewed Mzansi’s naming dilemma with amusement. “Listen,” he said. “I grew up in a small village in Germany after the War. We lived in the main street where my father grew up. It was Frederichstrasse when he was a child. Then under the Kaiser it was changed to Kaisersrasse. The Nazis came and it was Hitlerstrasse and after the war it became AdenhauesStrasse, I don’t know what it’s called now. So, you are not alone.”

FROM LONDON TO KLAARSTROOM

I mentioned a guest. Yes, we’ve had a Guest House here in Klaarstroom since 2003 when we returned from a teaching stint in London. There we taught inner city kids, who couldn’t come to terms with the reality that South Africans could speak English, let alone TEACH them English! How some battled with the suggestion from an African, that, “I ain’t not wanna do it that way,” wasn’t really the way that expression should work according to the language progress markers for Year Eights.

Sharon and I slaved away for over a year when the exchange rate drifted to R18/19 to the Pound for the first time. A colleague of mine introduced me to a visiting teacher, “Meet my friend Jeremy, he’s an economic migrant from South Africa.” Of course, she was quite correct. I was not far from those multitudes dodging their way from the Middle or Far East, or other parts of Africa. I just had another veneer – a conveniently inherited passport.

It was at Hayes Manor Comprehensive near Heathrow Airport, that I was reminded that we are not alone. Teenagers are teenagers wherever you find them. Poverty is poverty. Social ‘disfunction’ is universal whilst ‘clever’ people all over try to decide what it is to be ‘functional’.

THE GOOD SHEPHERD

Returning to our beloved Karoo, we attended the Sunday Eucharist at the local Anglican chapel – The Good Shepherd. Here the priest recited the Eucharist in Afrikaans – the same ritual recited at Westminster Abbey. Same, but different! In that great Abbey you were anonymous. You and your Creator. Here in the crowded chapel on the wonky benches, it was you, a whole chunk of the community – and your Creator!

FACILITATED THE OPPORTUNITY

It was that stay in ‘Blighty that facilitated the opportunity to ‘step off’ from the main stream in some way and live a very ‘real’ life here in the Karoo where you’re reminded daily you’re alive on the frosty mornings at minus 7 degrees C in winter or the 40 degrees plus in high summer. Here we live a Champagne life on a lemonade income as the World passes us by and feeds us daily.

It is from our Karoo village stoep that we hope to share some of our experiences and the perspectives moulded by our beautiful surroundings from time to time…

by Jeremy and Sharon Wits Hewinson