“I come here to escape the shit over there.
It relaxes me. Clean lines, look there, look left. It’s empty, the thin blue
line. I can think clearly.”
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“Go ahead”, she calls from behind clouds of antimacassar and Craven A, “but keep going – daar’s altyd nog ‘n kamer [there’s always another room].”
There really is. The seemingly tiny home turns out to be Kiesler’s Endless House, offering up one more room after
another, each jam packed with paraphernalia.
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Look at the junk and it
tells you stories. Which is what our dorps are really all about. Stories told,
but all too often forgotten. I’ve read four good books today. You have to love
South Africa.
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