The plan was to leave Bushmanland at Tsumkwe and cross the nearby border into Botswana. But biblical rain last night has apparently made the road on the Botswana side impassable so I have to go round – an extra two days drive.
So Hector needs more diesel. I stop at the small filling station and shop. While Hector takes a long drink a group of local young San men helpfully show me the way to the shop door. It’s all of 10 feet away so I clearly need some guidance. While I pay for my petrol it occurs to me that my new friends might like a cold drink. “How about a can of Sprite?” I generously offer. “No you have the Sprite – but I’ll have a bag of sugar please”, the first says. I order a bag of sugar as well. “And a can of fish”. “But you just had a bag of sugar.” “But I also need a can of fish” he pleads “and also another bag of sugar”. “You can have one bag of sugar that’s enough.” I say. The second chips in “I’d like a can of meat”. The third “some washing powder … and also some sugar”. The first “oh yes washing powder”. This is getting out of hand. I’m also acutely aware that so far the forth member of the shopping party has remained silent. “What would you like” I ask. “My father was French” he replies. He doesn’t look or sound French but I guess it’s possible. Now I’m getting worried. He could have expensive tastes. It seems unlikely but surely there is no Cognac or Foie Gras in here. He takes a deep breath clearly winding up for a big request. “I would like a bag of SUCRE please.
Happy with their new booty the shoppers disperse. On the way out two small boys are standing by the car. “Could we have some change please to buy some tea”, the oldest asks. “No, I’m not going to give you money but, it’s your lucky day, it just so happens I have some Yorkshire tea-bags – all the way from England”. I hand them over. The both look at them with a certain amount of disdain. “We still need money”, the youngest says. “What for I just gave you 12 tea bags” I say. “But we also need sugar ”they reply. Sweet.