Swaziland Adventures: Antelope, Laundry, and Superwoman

Laundry and Other Adventures in Swaziland 

What began as a simple attempt to wash our clothes in a coin laundry ended with damp clothing strewn across the back of our car while we drove through Swaziland. Oh, and an antelope and Superwoman were involved in this adventure, too.

My husband and I had explored in great depth all the lodging options available for our month-long trip through South Africa and Swaziland. Our goal (well, to be honest, it was my goal) was to experience every type of lodging available in South Africa and Swaziland. Our reservations included a motel, "luxury" tent, hut, game lodge, rondavel (circular mud hut with grass roof), resort, treehouse (my husband's favorite), backpackers' lodge, and bed and breakfast.

"Welcome" sign at the South Africa/Swaziland Border Control.

On our first day in Swaziland, we had reservations in a "beehive", a traditional Swazi hut with thatching over a rounded wooden frame. Beehives have a low entrance only about 3 1/2 feet high (just over a meter) and several feet thick; it requires stooping to enter, making it difficult for enemies to attack and enter, and for tourists to drag their luggage in without throwing out their backs.

 
This hut is named a “beehive” due to it’s appearance. The modern bathroom is attached in the rear.

We drove from South Africa to the dusty roads of Swaziland, arriving at beautiful Mlilwane Wildlife Sanctuary in the hot afternoon.  Our first stop after visiting their small museum was to check in at the office adorned with curtains hung on rods supported by antlers.  I inquired about the laundromat, as we had read that a laundromat was available on the premises, and we had planned to launder our clothes at this point in our trip.  We were informed that there was but one washer and one dryer.

Office personnel then directed an employee, who was about 70 or more years old, to show us to our lodging. This woman, whom I'll call "Superwoman", spoke very little English, so she motioned for us to drive behind her while she walked ahead very rapidly on the dusty road.  She continued her very fast pace for several blocks, past the "Beware of the Hippo" sign and to the parking area, where she attempted to unload our luggage, although we insisted we could do this ourselves. 

Superwoman ducked into the lodging with great agility and waited for those of us who are not so flexible to struggle inside. She demonstrated how to close the "door", a 3' x 3.5' piece of plywood that slid across the entrance. Well, most of the entrance. There was a 4" gap at the top, I suppose for ventilation. A key was produced that secured a bicycle-type padlock.  This was definitely not luxury nor high-tech lodging.    

The thatched roof over the low door.

Looking out from the hut, you see the short plywood door with "lock" that slides across the very low entrance. .

Laundering surprises

I communicated to Superwoman through gestures that I wanted to launder our clothes, and she indicated she would perform this task for us.  I don't know if it was pride or embarrassment that prevented me from allowing her to do so, but to be honest, I was too embarrassed to allow a very slim African lady to wash our much larger American underwear. So I filled a rolling suitcase with our dirty clothes, and followed her as she led the way to the laundromat.

Superwoman set out, passed the "Beware of the Hippo" sign again, and made tracks so quickly that I struggled to keep up with her. Of course I was pulling a (somewhat) heavy bag, which she again indicated she would pull, but I would have been embarrassed to have an older woman helping me. Thus, I continued to trudge behind her, falling further behind, wishing desperately that I had attended my aerobics classes on a more regular basis.  Due to her rapid mobility, I was beginning to wonder if she knew where that hippo was.

Upon arrival at the "laundromat", I noted that the single washer and dryer were situated on a cement pad open to the elements except for the wall behind it and a 6' (2 meter) "roof" over it. A sign on the dryer said "Out of order", and the woman pointed out a large number of clotheslines hidden from view inside a mostly fenced-in area. I have absolutely no idea why there was such an abundance of clotheslines, considering that there was only one washing machine.  

Superwoman reached out to take my coins for the washer's coin slot, but indicated that I could not use my South African coins.   I don't know why, but I had failed to consider I would need coins from tiny Swaziland. She hurried me back to the front desk to obtain Swazi coins. They did not have any, but suggested trying the park's nearby store. I asked if they had clothespins I could borrow, but they had none. "This should be interesting," I thought, as my elder friend and I practically jogged to the store, hoping for the elusive coins.

Luckily, I was able to purchase the correct coins from the store's cashier, and Superwoman and I rushed back to the "laundromat". She continued to be “helpful” by trying to place my laundry into the washing machine, but I thanked her and indicated again that I would launder it myself.  

Lastly, she picked up the electrical cord to the washing machine, plugged it in, and indicated that I should unplug it when finished.  I suppose that was to prevent electrical shock due to the exposed machine; I don't know why that didn't concern me at the moment. I was probably too exhausted from the dusty drive and the intense heat.  I thanked her again, as Superwoman hurried away to assist the next guests.

With the laundry in the washer, the correct coins inserted in the machine, and an electrical cord now providing power, I wandered back (not quickly) to find my exhausted husband sound asleep in the stifling beehive. (He's exhausted?) I made sure that the attached modern bathroom had it's window open, and left the sliding door ajar for more fresh air and circulation, hoping that the hippo was not flexible enough to duck under the roof and fit inside the door.  I picked up my camera and went to explore the area.

I walked past the "Beware of the Hippo" sign and made my way to the restaurant to review the dinner menu, since I had worked up an appetite with all my hiking and jogging.  Butternut soup was the starter tonight, and the main course was chicken casserole, pork roast, and hake goujons (fried fish similar to cod); dessert was chocolate pudding, and tea and "filter coffee" was available. Coffee is not a common drink in the area, so instant coffee is usually served, although tourists prefer their coffee brewed with a filter. The menu seemed interesting, and I loved that we could dine outdoors surrounded by rails for safety, so I made reservations for later in the evening.

Afterwards, my stroll took me by the pool that overlooked beautiful mountainous scenery. The view was quite stunning, so I took photos while enjoying God's handiwork.

View of the Mlilwane Wildlife Sanctuary land from the pool

I met guests from around the world, and we chatted and compared our African journeys so far. They warned me to take seriously the "Beware of the Hippo" sign that was between my beehive and my dinner.

Maybe they shouldn't have told the hippo where the restaurant is!

Once the washer had completed it's job, I placed the damp load into my suitcase and wheeled it across the grass to the mostly-enclosed fenced area to hang the clothes on the lines. I rounded the corner and was surprised by a wild antelope eating the grass beneath the clotheslines, but he ignored me.  He seemed comfortable with a startled tourist hanging laundry in the middle of his salad plate.  I'm not sure why I wasn't more afraid of the antelope, but I began my chore warily at the line furthest from him. After awhile, I didn't much notice the antelope, and he didn't bother me as he continued to graze quietly. The blue jeans and shirts were not difficult to hang on the line without clothes pins, and I eventually became proficient at hanging all items on the line. My biggest fear was that the clean clothes would fall down into the generous amount of antelope poo beneath the lines.

Our wash on the many clotheslines (because you need this many clotheslines for one washing machine, right?)

Hungry antelope eating his dinner and, luckily, not our laundry.

My task completed, I returned to exploring and chatted with more guests.  I returned to the laundry to ensure that our clothes were still on the line and that the antelope had not decided to chew on the jeans.   I didn't see him again, but thought perhaps he had been having dinner in the enclosed area because he was afraid of the hippo.

In the evening, my husband and I, along with the other guests, used flashlights to illuminate the dark road to the dining area, keeping our eye out for the hippopotamus. Safety in numbers, right? The dining area was beautifully decorated with hand-woven basketry; individual candle-lit tables were set with lovely native tableware and linens, and the buffet was very colorful and tasty.

We ordered some wine, and it arrived in the most decorative bottle I've ever seen. The dessert was delicious, the service was good, and the facilities were quite nice, with lovely bathrooms and artwork.

Isn't this the most beautiful bottle of wine?

Cultural Dance

After dinner, the staff performed a cultural show for the guests.  Drummers signaled the beginning of the show around a brightly burning fire.  The performers began with native songs and dances, dressed in traditional Swazi costumes. They danced individually and in groups, often kicking one leg high above their heads. I know my body could not even come close to some of these moves, performed by both men and women.  Sometimes the men would dance together, often imitating a hunt with their "spears", then the women would dance and sing harvest songs, among others.  (I recorded video of the event, but because it was so dark, it cannot be clearly seen.  We attended a similar show the following day, and I have excellent video of that performance for my next Swazi post.)

The men, dressed as antelope, performed a hunting dance.

One of the female performers looked familiar, even in the dim light of the campfire. It was Superwoman! She recognized me too, and seemed so very happy to see me enjoying the performance. She waved to me excitedly, as if I were her long-lost friend. Guests were invited to dance with the natives, and Superwoman quickly (of course) ran over to me, grabbed my hand, and pulled me up to dance around the fire with her.  In spite of our trouble with language differences, I felt like she was my best friend ever! I have a friend in Swaziland! 

"Superwoman" , my best Swazi friend, 

held my hand in friendship as we danced.

"Let them praise His name with dancing and make music to Him with timbrel and harp." Psalm 149:3

 
With the performance finished, I thanked my best Swazi friend for the opportunity to take part in her native dance, and said good night.  My husband and I stopped to check on our laundry, which was still damp. We questioned leaving it overnight but decided that, since it was hidden behind a fence, most people had no idea it was there. No hippos to be seen on the way to our lodging.

The modern shower in our beehive was very welcome, but the beds were very uncomfortable and the air was still very warm without air conditioning. The ceiling fan provided some welcome circulation, and in spite of the warmth and uncomfortable bed, we slept very well. I made a mental note to make sure I booked lodging with air conditioning the next time we visit Swaziland!

Uncomfortable beds in the hot beehive; notice the large water bottle 
between beds.  We bought all our water for health reasons.

In the morning the laundry was dry, with the exception of the very damp jeans and socks, but we needed to hit the road. The dry items were packed, but the jeans were spread out in the back seat and the back window of our car.  Socks were hung from the front headrest and the back seat belts. The sun and the wind would dry the laundry today!

We checked out of the beehive, agreeing that the idea of sleeping there was more enticing than the actual experience.  However, the cultural experience was amazing and will forever be remembered.  We never did meet the resident hippo; we did not see Superwoman again.  

I miss my best Swazi friend.

Tags:  Swaziland, Mlilwane Wildlife Sanctuary, beehive, native culture, dancing, hippopotamus, antelope, South Africa, wine