When I was a kid, my family would occasionally vacation at a place on the Wild Coast in Transkei. My brother, Rupert and I, fancied ourselves as great explorers and would trek miles and miles in search of adventure. How we did not suffer serious injury or death I do not know. It's a miracle I'm still around.
Captivating members know the story about the time I nearly died in a monkey cage, on a farm in Tarkastad in the Karoo. (My mother will remember that holiday because I was also run over by a tractor). Do you remember that mom? This is only one story. I have so many.
During one of our adventures, we stumbled upon a tribal village after making our way through a densely forested area. Surprisingly, Europeans were quite a novelty for the tribe and we created quite a stir with our fair hair and pale skins. No, this is not the stuff movies are made of. This really happened.
They were a friendly group and chattered away animatedly. Next thing you know, we are being presented to the chief. I will not share the whole story here except to say that Rupert and I visited often and got to know the friendly and hospitable people. On one such visit, we showed them how to play tennis. Don't ask me why we thought this would be a good idea. It just seemed like they might enjoy seeing something we did for fun. The game was improvised because we did not have a court or net. We brought our tennis rackets (my mother never found out what happened to all our tennis rackets) and balls. At first, the chief and tribe watched us play on the hard clay ground in a kraal (a clearing surrounded by sapling branches used to keep cattle contained). The tribe thought the game was very entertaining indeed and they were clearly captivated. When it was their turn to play, we laughed uproariously at their antics. We lost many balls but this was one of the happiest days of my life. We even left them with all our tennis rackets and balls.
When we returned to the Transkei, we couldn't wait to visit our new friends and when we did, we were amazed. They had turned the game of tennis into an improvised tribal sport of their own. They still had our rackets but they'd also made their own and balls were fashioned out of cow dung. They had created a special "tennis court". Africans are very creative and innovative. Their tournaments were a serious business but with an African twist. I never quite got the rules but this was a big deal to them and the event was presided over by the chief with great pomp and ceremony. Rupert and I were the guests of honor for one of these and were served a great delicacy - goat's head. Imagine the shock on our young faces when we were offered the eyeballs to eat first. Apparently, this was a great honor. I can't remember if what goat eyeballs tasted like. I think I may have blocked this particular traumatic event from my memory
I often wonder what happened to our tennis playing tribe in the Transkei. When I looked at this image, I thought, "Dang, I wonder who introduced this group to pool"
Gotta love Africa!
