skimming over the last few blogs I've written, I noticed that I had missed a major part of my trip! My days off from WWOOFing! I hope you don't think that I was worked to death, and never caught a break, because this couldn't be farther from the truth. As a matter of fact, some of the major highlights of my trip took place on the weekends, between painting, building, and baboon chasing.On Farm 119, weekends are dedicated to getting as much sleep as you possibly can, and usually, only a half-day's work is done. My first weekend there, it was pouring rain, but Kevin and Mila were still game for a hike to the Drupkelders, which is about a half-hour away from the farm. Although it was more or less a torrential downpour, it wasn't actually that cold out, so I decided to join in.
Since the Drupkelders is in the Knysna Forest, it wasn't all that wet once we got under the shelter of the trees. The Knysna Forest has a mysterious, wild feeling that I've never experienced in Canada. The wilderness of it sucks you right in. The first little bit of the hike is flat, but after a while, you reach a downhill, which carries on for a few kilometres. At one point, there's a rope to hold onto as you traverse down the hill! It was quite slippery in the rain, and watching your footing is a must, unless you want to get muddy.
All of the sudden, the hill comes to an end, and you find yourself standing in a huge gorge, which surrounds a river, which is apparently a swimmer's nirvana in warmer weather. There are vines hanging down the sides of the gorge, and the sound of the rushing river combined with the rain definitely gave me the "African Wilderness" idea.
The entire landscape of the Drupkelders was breathtaking, and taking it all in while being sheltered by the gorge was the perfect thing to do on a rainy Sunday. For the record, in warmer, drier weather, the Drupkelders gorge would have made for amazing bouldering!
The hike back up the hill was a little bit more challenging, as the stones were soaked, and I tended to slip every couple of steps. However, I'm still in awe of how beautiful the Drupkelders were...and they were only half an hour away from where I lived! How lucky is that?
I think that I'm still a little bit damp from that hike, and three weeks later, I have a pair of socks that still hasn't quite dried out. However, the scenery of the place was worth soaking through to the bone. Anyone in Rheenendal: take an afternoon and hike to the Drupkelders!
A quick word of caution: never leave a Malarone tablet in your pocket if there's a chance it might get wet, as it will dissolve into yellow mush which gets all over everything, and is a pain in the ass to wash off.
The main event, however, came the following Saturday. I had heard rumors about the Rastafari Earth Festival, and secretly had my fingers crossed that we would go. I lucked out again, as Kevin and Tanya asked me if I would be interested in attending the Knysna Rasta Fest. Uh, yes please!
Although the event didn't start until that evening, I went early with Kevin. He wanted to take some shots of the Knysna Heads before the sun went down, and I went along for the opportunity. For the record, do not miss the Knysna Heads! Watching the sea crash up and down over the rocks while the sun was just starting to set was probably one of the most stunning landscapes I've ever seen in my life. I helped Kevin with some of his shoot...by that I mean I held up a lamp for background lighting. The effect was quite magical.
Afterwards, we headed to the Festival. I expected it to take place right in town, so you can imagine my surprise when we drove into the Khayalethu Township, down narrow, twisting
roads until we reached the House of Judah, complete with Bob Marley mural.For the record, Knysna is home to South Africa's largest Rastafarian community; there about thirty families living peacefully in the Khayalethu Township. I had read about this before coming, but I never imagined that I would actually be entering Judah Square and partying with the community! Definitely one for the old bucket list!
Being in the township only added to the experience for me. I noticed that within the township, there was acutally a fair bit of diversity. My preconceived notion of the townships were a bunch of falling-down shacks, and hard-done-by people (which I'm embarrassed to admit now). As we drove through, however, I noticed that some of the houses were actually decently equipped, the people were beautiful, wearing colourful clothing, the children played a game of soccer, and I noticed teenagers laughing around a fire. Really, this isn't all that different than how people in the white suburbs spend their Saturday nights.
All of the Rastafarian people I met were friendly; I was one of very few white people there, but I felt no judgment. The people were peaceful and gentle, giving me fist bumps (a traditional greeting in their culture), welcoming me, and offering to sell me buds of ganja the size of my head. It was a nice change to be at a gathering like that where there was no belligerence, drunkenness or brawling. Everyone was dancing to the live (awesome) reggae music, there was food and tea, and everyone was smiling and enjoying each other's company.
The Rasta Earth Festival was definitely one of the top travel experiences of my life. It was an unexpected surprise, and a deep look into a very different culture that I'm so glad I got to be a part of!
By the way, the Rastas all called me "Sista Rebecca". Just in case you're interested.
Questions? Comments? Criticisms? I'd love to hear them all!
the-wanderingjew@hotmail.com
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