Barefoot in Africa

I slipped off my high-heels. The grass was hard and prickly under my feet. I was barefoot in Africa again. In my early and mid-twenties I was a country girl. I lived on a small-holding (hobby farm) south of Johannesburg and went barefoot at home all the time. Yes, my feet got dusty and dirty; my soles hardened and my heels cracked a trifle; yet there was a freedom and joy in that.

Walking barefoot wasn't my first taste that I was back in Africa. The big open sky, the hot sun and the wide white grins in black faces made me feel right at home. A few days after our arrival we were welcomed by a true blue Highveld thunderstorm. I forgot that it could storm pelting rain, thunder and lightning unabated for more than six hours. The rain started with big fat plops at 8:30pm and lashed its unrelenting fury on the corrugated tin roof of my parents' cottage.

I love that sound. It takes me straight back to my country life and the tin roof of my house. The sound of the rain on the roof would be so loud that I would turn the volume of the TV up and sit just a metre or two away so that I could hear. When the electricity went out, I'd throw open the doors and storm watch (see African Thunderstorm, July 2009).

But even before the storm, a trip to the butchery for a mutton roast made it clear I was no longer in Canada. Apart from the standard cuts for dinner, there was a large selection of liver, ox tail and ox tongue, pigs' trotters perfect for making yummy brawn, white intestines to make tripe, kidneys to add to my steak pie, chicken feet and the entrails of a sheep. And, of course, strips of that great South African delicacy, biltong (dried beef), hanging from the rafters.

Ox tongue and apricots cooked long and slow in a potjie pot (black cooking pot) over hot coals under the grape vines is a sweet memory I have of my country life years. With five dogs, three cats and a glass of white wine to add to the company, there is a touch of nostalgia for the slow pace of those days.

After the busyness of our mid-life years in the city, I hope to one day have a small place again in the country, go barefoot, grow some vegetables, have a few fruit trees, two dogs and a cat, and enjoy slow cooking and slow living.