Borderline

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Over the last ten years, off and on, I admit - I'm prone to addictive behaviour when it comes to Ancestry dot com. A while ago, during one of those binges, I discovered on the Canaday side (Ada Grace m. James Edward Baird) a few stray Irishmen, including one Francis Dynes (5th Great Grandfather). This could be an "alternative fact".......Uncle Richard would have to verify.

Hmmm. That reminds me that if Friday is St. Patty's Day, then Sunday is St. Joseph's Day. (Joseph Baird, Josefa Holec, Jozef Holec, Josef Koutny, Joseph Wallis, Josef Zahradnik, Josef Zezula) we have plenty of Joseph ancestors to celebrate.

                          

                                            ***

Mom - I see that snow scraper in your hands...one of SIX, per Wally.

                               
                                            ***

I started the blog this week, not to talk about ancestors, but because I was thinking about borders, border crossing, borderlines, boundaries. Our ancestors remind us that without immigration, we wouldn't be Americans. It is difficult for me to imagine the relatives that came from Bohemia and Germany - especially those who came at such a young age - they didn't speak the language, they had probably never left their villages, most likely poor, and yet they bravely sailed across an ocean and traversed over vast, unknown land in order to have a better life, escape war or persecution, find an opportunity they did not have in their homeland, or follow a dream. Imagine the relatives and friends they left behind, knowing they might never see them again!  Brave, brave souls.

I promised myself that I wouldn't mention politics here, but in writing about immigrants, I feel I have to speak out against Ben Carson and his statement that African slaves were also immigrants. Consider the difference between free will and captivity, there is no comparison, Ben!

Each time we cross a border - even if it's just a state line - we leave behind more than an imaginary comfort zone. We enter into territory unknown. Gary and Dad cross the Canadian border all summer long; Tate, Ally, and Jen have crossed borders where English wasn't the first language; Mom, Sydney, Ashley and I crossed into Mexico before passports were required. There is something scary, exciting, adventurous and educational about every border or boundary we encounter and decide to step across not knowing what lies ahead.

For us, this week has had its challenges in more ways than one. We started the week optimistically on Sunday with a trip across the border into South Africa intending to visit a dairy processing plant along the way to our final destination, Hartswater, South Africa, for a four o'clock meeting.

Because of where we live, we typically choose one of two borders to cross. Each can have it's own challenges or successes. We try to be respectful and courteous each time we cross. It's a process - park the car, go inside the offices, fill out a piece of paper on the Botswana side, get the passport stamped, drive across the border, go inside the SA offices, get the passport stamped, then pull the car into a police check point so they can check our passports, look in the car, and in the trunk, then we can carry on. The SA police are typically more inquisitive - "Oh! Texas (after seeing Phil's driver's license)! Houston? I want to go there...I want to see Beyonce!"

Sunday started out fairly ordinary - until we got about 100 k's into South Africa and in the middle of basically no where. The car's idler pulley decided to break. We chanced it - drove the car fifty k's back to the largest town where we thought we might find a mechanic. Still on the South African side. By the time we arrived in Mafikeng, the water in the engine was boiling and the temperature gauge could climb no higher. We booked a hotel room and decided to wait until morning. Here's morning:

The car needed to be transported to Lichtenburg for repairs, unfortunately the mechanic's shop in Mafikeng wasn't able to do the repairs. Luckily, a friend of ours came to our rescue from Botswana. We followed the tow truck to Lichtenburg - still on the South African side. Lichtenburg is a town of about 30,000 people, mainly an agricultural hub. When we arrived, we discovered we had just missed a group of protesters toyi-toying - the result: large rocks thrown onto the road along with burning and still smoldering tires. It's unclear what the protests were about, perhaps water, or service deliveries, the news is not picking up the story. These pics show the aftermath.

We made it home late that night after an incredibly long day - at least Monday was behind us, the dogs were waiting faithfully, and Tuesday - you've got next.

Tuesday ended with another exhausting meeting,

and a plan that we would need to head back to South Africa on Wednesday. We borrowed the company car - and prepared to wake up early Wednesday morning (430 a.m.) to cross the border - again - at 600 a.m.


We experienced the aftermath of more toyi-toying outside of Mafikeng this time, mainly rocks strewn all over the road, again, no news reporting on the incident so not sure if it was about water, services, or as someone had told us, it was about "child maintenance". No pictures this time. We had been warned at the border that the road might be closed by the time we arrived. Luckily, we were able to carry on. Until...........



We nearly arrived to the same place as where the idler pulley pooped out on us when - blown, flat tire.

Tire changed - off again! However, we realized that the wear on the front tires meant that it was only a matter of time before the other front tire blew (and, just a side note, having a blow out at 160 kph is a bit scary!) We decided to chance it, drove just outside of Vryburg and the spare tire punctured! The Volkswagen Touareg designers, miraculously, had the forethought to add an air compressor under the driver's seat (total genius). So, the tire was quickly aired up and we turned around and limped into Vryburg. Again. Thank goodness for Joe! OMG - another Joe! Joe's Tyre's saved the day!

 
Somebody please call Joe and thank him. :)

Pressing on to Hartswater, we finally arrived for our afternoon meeting. After the CHECK OIL light came on (added two quarts) in Stella, we kissed the ground when we arrived. :) We left Hartswater about 630 p.m., had enough time to stop at McDonald's in Mafikeng, and we made the border crossing before it closed at 1000 p.m. Big sigh of relief.

Not everything is perfect when you challenge your own personal boundaries, or cross cultural and geographical borders - but buried in the highs and lows, there is always a story, a problem that seems unsolvable at the time and yet laughable later, a memory, an education.....and nothing feels better after those experiences then when you arrive home safely.

The day began all sunshine and sunflowers and ended up with us driving through a huge rain shower. Leaving you with some road trip shots that I took along the way.

Sunflowers growing in a field across from where Phil was changing the first blow out.

Creative uses of pallets as sold on the side of the road!

Pecan grower conference in Hartswater.

Tiger Kloof high school, outside of Vryburg, South Africa. The former president of Botswana, Sir Seretse Khama began his education here. A bit of history for the buffs:

TIGER KLOOF – 

In the middle of the 19th century the London Missionary Society had founded a school at the Moffat Mission in Kuruman, but this school had struggled to take off and was eventually closed. 

In 1895 Kgosi (Chief) Khama III, Kgosi Bathoen and Kgosi Sebele visited Queen Victoria and Lord Chamberlain in London, in an effort to convince them not to incorporate British Bechuanaland (modern day Botswana) into the Cape Colony (part of the modern day South Africa). They were accompanied by a young Rev. W.C. Willoughby, a missionary then working amongst the Batswana. The Batswana wanted a good education for their sons and had approached the London Missionary Society to establish a school in Bechuanaland. After several attempts, delayed by the Anglo-Boer War, the Institution was finally established at Tiger Kloof, alongside Cecil Rhodes' Cape to Cairo railway, which still runs through the school.

This is called a "lay-by" - it's a small area on the side of the road for travelers to park and rest. 99 percent of all over-the-road trucks (semis) are cabovers like the one above. 

Old, abandoned railway station - these stations were for whites only during apartheid in South Africa.

Traffic in Taung.

These boys were about to get rained on! The storm created this strange colored sky, the sun was shining against the clouds that were forming, creating this super orange sort of surreal atmosphere. 

So long, South Africa! Until we cross again! (Next week, lol). This has been sort of a melancholy post, but it's been that kind of a week. We are on the borderline of completing the transactions that we are here for to begin with -- building this dairy. Whatever borders or boundaries you cross this week, may you enjoy the journey! xoxo - Karen