Ngolwesine 2 September
It’s 5am and we are driving straight down Qondile, and past Forest Lodge. Phinda staff are already stirring at this early hour – delivering thousands of Rands of value to each guest every day takes some effort.

Today is a big day, visa application day for Kristal. Richards Bay is more than 2 hours from our home and we want to miss whatever queues there might be.

We’re first in line as the doors for immigration as the doors open. A few dress-up suggestions for the office theme party tomorrow and soon the Indian lady helping us is our mate. My ID document is falling apart. Just R20 gets me photos, taken by a rickety digital camera, against a chipped, white backdrop board propped up against a wall on the pavement outside.

A couple of people are ahead in the queue and I sit down. A middle-aged Zulu fellow takes a pew beside me, empty application form in hand. I greet him in Zulu and ask if he’d like a pen. Certainly, and could I please help him fill in the form – he doesn’t know how. He tells me that some guys tshontsha’d (stole) the main page of his ID book. Turns out he grew up in Nibela, a community bordering on Phinda and one I know very well from my time with Africa Foundation. I explain that my fiancé hails from overseas, Holland. He is amazed at her bravery, coming to South Africa. Not because of the crime, or the lack of jobs. Because she flew here in ubhanoyi. “People that fly in planes have lots of courage!” he tells me, genuinely impressed. A beautiful, spontaneous connection with a complete stranger. All in his first language. My third.

As we drive back we are both so excited. The visa application is in and we are off to visit Advent Hope Christian School, a school I spent many hours at. Right at Mduku fourway stop, past the DevCentre computer centre on the right, Mduku Clinic on the left. Both projects supported by Africa Foundation. Just a short sandy road drive and we pull up to the school.

Thandi is not there yet, but the reception is a very warm one. Kristal is whipped off for the school tour and I go to meet the new school principal, a Zimbabwean fellow. I’m introduced to most of the teachers, working busily in the staff room. Most are from Zim and one is introduced as a magician, a traditional healer. I assure him I will be visiting if I get sick, and unrestrained laughter breaks out.
It is so good to see the kids, playing, “always playing” Thembiso, a teacher, tells me. We visit the mamas busy sewing school uniforms in a building on the property and then head off to find Kristal. She has a huge smile on her face, as does the Grade 1 teacher, Sam, who greets me. Soon after Thandi arrives.
She wastes no time, “You can teach English to Grade 4” she tells Kristal. The principal is more receptive to Kristal’s request to come visit first and see how things are done. Monday next week, it is settled.

We head off to visit the new boarding facility at Thandi’s home a few hundred metres down the track. Twenty-eight children, boys and girls, live here. They all look so happy. A little girl, maybe seven or eight years old, walks up to Thandi. She has a nice, new stationery set and a set up mugs. Both still in their plastic. Thandi tells us that these are gifts from the other children, as her father passed away. Such a special, huge gesture from the kids and at the same time so inadequate for the loss this child must feel. My heart really goes out her, I cannot imagine what that must be like.
We pop by to visit the DevCentre on the way home. Baba Ndlazi greets us, shaking our hands with the longest fingers I have ever seen. At 68 he is still going strong, running AIDS awareness courses and trying to source funding for a vegetable nursery.
A great day, visa application is done and so good to see old friends.
Ngolwesihlanu 3 September 2010
Today the sun hides behind the clouds and this gives us all a bit more power. Two teams, three per team and ten poles replaced today – a record since I’ve been here.

Work is always interspersed with joking, teasing and stories. Lots of stories, about animals. About how the baboons are causing havoc at the staff village. And “One time, a long time ago, over there, up towards Kwangwenya,” Seven tells me, “there was a bad drought. The grass was thirsty and hard and the cows refused to eat. Cows were dying everywhere. And then…” he gets a twinkle in his eye. “ …the farmers decided to make glasses for the cows with see-through, green plastic. The grass suddenly looked green and the cows started eating. Many lives were saved.” I’m enthralled by the story but a little uncertain on the factual content.

A more sobering story is that the lionesses, the Big and the Beautiful, were seen again at Imagine Dam this morning, just a few hundred metres away. I look at the fence and wonder if a rush of adrenalin will help me clear the 1.8m wire.

Guests are being picked up at the airstrip soon. A ranger will arrive at bush breakfast in 5 minutes. Maintenance needs to get to Forest Lodge. All of this we follow on the “ova” (pronounced “over”), another beautiful literal Zulu name for something.

Soon the day is done, and I say farewell to the guys in front of our house. A couple of them will go on 2 weeks leave on Sunday. A hard-earned break for sure.

Shirt off, kakhi rangers’ shorts on, car tyre shoes too and binos in hand. Ross leads us away from the house, to the epic sunbird tree. We hear them calling, well before we see them, and move in closer. Purple neck bands, white bellies, blue and red chest stripes and a brilliant, scarlet chest. Beautiful curved beaks and shimmering, iridescent plumage flit between the branches. Never have I seen so many sunbirds together!

We walk back to the house and on the way get a lesson on what to do if we bump into dangerous game. For rhino, get behind cover and downwind. And get out of there! For elephant shout, stamp and wave your hands. For lion back away, and not slowly either. Don’t turn and whatever you do, don’t trip and fall. For buffalo, “Help Kristal get up a tree, any tree, and then get up a tree yourself.”. Kristal and I decide between ourselves we won’t do much walking alone, for now.