Today was absolutely incredible - I think I'm going to break my existing personal record for consecutive once-in-a-lifetime experiences. Right now I'm at eight and counting. My previous record is 12, a stretch that included eating jellied turkey pie (#4) and playing 4-a-side soccer against former Charlton United player Chris Bart-Williams (#11).
This morning our group loaded into a van, took the main road out of town and followed it until it became a dirt path. After a few more minutes we turned into a small clutch of tiny houses and one-room buildings. This is Shorobe, B-Man's home village. It was a quiet morning: there were a few people chatting outside the white government buildings at the center of the village, and a few more drawing water from a pump nearby (Shorobe has no running water).
The real treat of this visit was that B-Man (full name Baitsholedi Baitse) had arranged for us to meet the village chief. We gathered on wooden benches in front of a ceremonial stage and the chief sat in front of us in a small chair. We asked him questions for a few minutes about his day-to-day responsibilities (judge, jailer, meting out corporal punishment) and the size of the village (1,000 and growing, slowly). Most compelling was the discussion on chiefly lineage.
When the chief of Shorobe dies or can no longer effectively serve, the title is passed on to his first-born son. The chief said the royal line in his family stretches back hundreds of years to the founding of the village. Ashley asked how long the title of chief had been in his family - the chief responded, "forever." His tone shifted when we asked about the future, however.
The chief's three children all live and work in Maun and have no interest in taking over the title. When his rule comes to an end, a new chief will be chosen by democratic vote among those in the village. This represents a seismic shift in Shorobe's cultural landscape, and the chief seemed uncomfortable talking about it.
We also made a major cultural gaffe. According to Shorobe law, everyone must wear long pants when meeting with the chief. We weren't aware of this, and three of us (myself included) were in shorts. We apologized profusely before we left the village.
We then drove for a few more minutes to meet B-Man's mother and young sisters. They live on a small parcel of land with four buildings B-Man built himself. His mother makes beautiful baskets in the traditional Botswana style, spending a month in the deep bush gathering the long, firm grass stalks, then using those stalks throughout the year for the baskets she sells in Maun. B-Man has a one-room building for himself, with solar panels to power his surround sound stereo system. We bonded for a bit about his taste in music - we both love Reggae.
Now on to the first day of camp. Over 200 kids arrived promptly at 2 p.m. at the Maun Sports Complex, 22 of which would spend the next two hours working with me and Ben in one eighth of the turf field. Our kids were from a private school in the area - they all spoke English and arrived in their school uniforms. Though they arrived with shoes, most elected to play barefoot. And they could play.
Dribbing skills were the focus of the day, and the kids had no difficulties with the various drills and games we ran for them. One standout was Rapela, a tall skinny kid of about 11 or 12, with great control and more than a few tricks. During our session-ending scrimmage, he dominated proceedings, even nutmegging me once or twice in the process. I'm looking forward to seeing how much we can teach him over the week. Overall, the session went well: the kids had a great time and were excited about the week ahead. So am I.
Next time:
Exploring Maun
Camp - Day 2
Jerome Rankine is an account executive and in charge of fan development for Major League Soccer. He is keeping an online diary of his time in the African nation of Botswana with the Football for Life program, which is designed to teach soccer and life skills to kids.
