Maureen (Kopo in Setswana) got introduced to the student body of her school last week, all 1600 of them, and is now better known than Santa Claus around here. Students on the street call her by name and wave. I am merely Kopo’s live-in. During the same noon hour lunch break last week, one lady came over to say “Kopo, I want to be your daughter” and another person invited us to her wedding even though we had never met her before!
On our trip to Gabarone 12 miles away, we were walking down the street when one of the students came across the road to greet her by name. “Hi Kopo, did you know that Michael Jackson died?” When Kopo said she was aware of that, the student wanted to know if we had ever met him. Disappointed that we had not, the girl rattled off the names of several other current Pop stars, sure that we personally knew at least one of them. After all, if this student could find us in another town, surely as Americans we knew Beyonce. I can see when we get back to the States we need to get out more.
On this trip, we had our first experience with BW public transportation. Technically we are on, what the PC volunteers call “lock down” for the first three months, which means we are not supposed to leave our home villages. We are however allowed to go to the nearest shopping village for things unavailable in our home village. For us this happens to be Gabarone and Maureen needed a winter coat to avoid night time frost bite. Bus service from Ramotswa to Gabs (as it is known to all the locals), is regular about every half hour during the day, and there is a stop close to my work site. We waited 20 minutes and climbed aboard with 40 of our now nearest and dearest friends. Unlike the Jo’burg to Gabarone bus which is more of Greyhound/Trailways variety, this one was closer to the Mexican “Chicken bus.” No animals aboard but plenty of people. The “conductor” came through the aisle, or should I say she stumbled, wedged and elbowed her way through the aisle which was packed with standing riders. Carrying a canvas sack, she collected the fare which is 5 Pula 70 Thebe (totaling about 80 cents) for the 12 mile trip. Like virtually all the cab drivers and shop clerks, she was pleasant, scrupulously honest and came back to provide a printed receipt. Going into town, the trip took 45 minutes as several stops were made prior to the southern edge of town where the PC offices are and there is shopping.
Miller Time
I don’t know who first coined the phrase “It’s Miller Time”-- my Mother Kathleen Emma Louise Miller or the Milwaukee brewer. Nevertheless, Miller Time has been a fixture in our family for many years and signifies a time to relax after a strenuous task and take time for one’s self, with or without a cold beverage. There are also many “Miller Moments” experienced by all of our family, especially my daughter Meghan Miller Doran and yours truly, Christopher Miller Doran. A Miller Moment can be any experience, encounter or event that is particularly memorable and/or funny.
The most recent Miller Moment occurred on the return bus trip from Gabs. I was standing in the aisle, situated directly behind a 25-ish year old BW woman. She was quite talkative and seemed to be getting louder as the trip went on, but I couldn’t quite make out what she was saying. At the Ramotswa turn off from the main road, she appeared to be getting off, but gingerly trotted like a Clydesdale a few yards to the side of the road. It now became obvious that she had had several dibojalwa (Setswana for the Undisputed King of Beers). This likely accounted for her urgent need, as well as her willingness to tolerate total lack of privacy. There were no trees or bushes but she dropped her pants in full view of the crowded bus and took a leak. It was not brewed “High in the Rockies’ and without doubt was not “Rocky Mountain Spring Water” but gushed it did. The “Great Taste, Less Filling” debate had been resolved. Her liquid refreshment was clearly “more filling.” She calmly pulled up her pants and returned to the bus with nary a blush. There was no bow for her performance as there might have been in the US. I felt it deserved a Pabst Blue Ribbon, but I was not familiar enough with bus etiquette to begin a standing ovation. Anyway, a toast to celebrity status-- “Ma’am this Bud’s for you”.
Klydesdale Kgosi
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