Kameel Stoepstorie: A right turn at the corner café

As I turn right at the corner café. 

Leaving the city lights in my rear view mirror.

 I always seem to notice things that were always there but, if I may be so blunt not always that important to me. 

The corner cafe

Who am I?
I am Samantha van den Berg
I’m twenty three years old but my soul is only two or… just about two. Two years from when I first started turning right at the corner café and started seeing life.
Call me Sammy 

 I tend to drive and as I get closer two the silos. I see the sadness in the plough lands and all the cattle next to the road caused by the drought.

Don’t get me wrong in this blanket of sadness you have a small town that has planted a very small seed of love, caring and light right into my heart …Kameel. 

 

 A place where you don’t even have to put on the TV on Saturdays because you can hear how the Springboks are playing by the reaction of your next door neighbour or on a good Sunday special can be anything from family lunches to “potjie kos”. 

The potjie filled with the goodness of country life is slowly getting ready for a feast. 

The workers coming in from farms all around, the music starts to play at the local shop. In the one corner you have those listing to the soccer match between pirates and chiefs. A dance off between a man and a lady. And people standing observing just to get the time by.

On the farm in Kameel anything can happen,
it’s a place where for a sable his best friend can be sheep. 

Where the full moon can make it seem as if twilight can go on forever or when you don’t have to add a “filter” to a photo. It’s a place where you realize that just how curious animals can be and how a simple farm house holds the most precious of memories.

Standing on the railway I cannot help to wonder 50 years back- knowing that the Kameel sign next to it used to brand-new.

 People were coming from where ever the railway starts or ends knowing that this place is somewhere in the middle and that so much history has gone by. 

Sitting on the swing chair, I hear an old truck making his way on the gravel road. The ducks in the pond right next to me and an irritating noise coming from the shed from a power tool.

I see the flower that were planted and reminds you of family that has been taken to soon, a dog being naughty and eating a sock.

The braai fire is getting ready 

I smell the wood burning from the braai that is about to start and the bread in the oven.

Kameel, a rustic place which you can find turning right at the corner café.

Thanks for visiting 

Sammy 

Kameel Stoepstorie: Mouton's Mombasa Story

This blog post tells of  Mouton Fincham living in Mombasa, Kenya 

Okay so for those who don’t know me, I am just an average guy from the North-West province of South Africa. 

Then got a job in Bloemfontein in 2014. 

To get somewhere in life, I had to work from 7am to 7pm for almost 2 years which was quite though, but one day suddenly, I got the call that I am on my way to Kenya, and here follows a short story of life in Mombasa, Kenya.

My first arrival as Depot Manager in Mombasa was a long journey, 13 hours to be precise. Mombasa welcomed me with extreme heat and humidity. When I stepped out of the plane, temperature of 29oC and humidity of 75% was waiting for me.

When I woke up the first morning I felt like I was in paradise. The place where I live is called the McKenzie’s. The owner’s wife has a passion for gardening, so there are palm trees, green bushes, pink, white, red flowers etc. with two swimming pools and a breath taking view of the ocean from my porch.

Mombasa if not, is one of the biggest ports in East Africa with a figure of 1 million containers that landed in 2015. 

This makes the city very busy concerning traffic which is complete chaos. It took me almost 3 months to adapt to the roads here. 

You will find trucks, Taxi’s (we call matatus) Tuk-Tuks, Motorcycles (which we call boda-bodas) turning a 2 lane road into a 5 lane road.

I am a music lover, and I am currently collecting guitars which I can’t live without. Within 2 weeks I found a small shop which sells guitars and bought me one. So now life is very easy.

Then there is the beaches which is so beautiful. White sands, blue waters with temperatures so warm which makes Mombasa one of Kenya’s biggest tourist attractions. I met people from around the world here in Mombasa, people from Belgium, Germany, Argentina, Australia, Canada, France, Israel, Philippines, Austria, England and America.

I also went Skydiving on the South Coast called Diani which was sooo good. We jumped on a cloudy Saturday morning at around 11am which gave me enough time to stress before the jump. But it was one of the best experiences I had, and if I could, I would jump every day of my time here.

Then there is Wasini Island, where you can book a tour that includes seeing dolphins swimming next to your boat, after that you can go snorkelling where you can see a huge variety of fishes. And after that you go for a lunch on the Island before heading back home.

There is a big Indian community in Mombasa and we all know Indians love food. I was very difficult when it comes to my food. I didn’t even ate seafood or Indian food before coming to Mombasa, but now, it is almost my meal every weekend.

All and all, Mombasa is a very nice place to be in this stage of my life, and my only wish here is that all my family and friends can pay me a visit here. If I could, I would buy tickets for all of them.!

Thanks

Mouton.!

Kameel Stoepstorie: My Antique Fairy

This post was written by Lieschen Fincham. 

Lieschen is a young and independent woman who loves adventure and art but see herself as stubborn.  

She grew up in Bloemfontein which is the Legislative capital of  South Africa and situated in the Free State. 

Matriculated at Eunice High 

Currently studies at Un iversity of the Free State B.Com (Acc) 

When you grow up in a modern world, the sentiment of antiques sometimes boggles the mind. 

Why would anyone want to keep a broken chair or their great grandmother’s bathing suit? My aunt, the antique lady, made me see the beauty in all of it like she was some kind of fairy. 

To her every piece was unique and had its own story. No longer was the broken chair, just a chair and no longer was the bathing suit just that. It became fairy tales of ancestors I wished I had met, in whom I found some resemblance and some longing too. It became stories of road trips and laughter that you don’t see anymore, in this fast-paced life we live in.

The antiques came alive. They each danced to their own beat and told their own story. No wonder my antique fairy didn’t just place the pieces in some box that took up storage space in an old abandoned room. She took her time to carefully display each piece, like one would a photograph of a happy memory. Just like the photograph, each piece represents a unique person, even if long forgotten by many, the fairy places them where their magic won’t fade and disappear.

If the antiques get a little worn down and tired, she transforms them. Almost like Cinderella was transformed, only this fairy permanently transforms them. She gives them a new purpose and makes them feel brand new, like they have another chance at creating new stories. De Oude Huize is full of both new and old antiques that are eager to tell you their story.

Its easy to write about a place and what it offers, but its quite often forgotten that sometimes it’s the people that make the place so great. The people too often hidden behind the scenes making it great, are the true heart of a place.

I guess in some way my antique fairy could be seen as an antique herself, she’s not old, but she is rare and beautifully crafted. She tells a beautiful story and has a heart of gold to match. De Oude Huize is lucky to have her as its antique fairy, but so am I, to have her as my aunt.

Lots of love to 
De Oude Huize.

Lieschen

Kameel Stoepstorie: When there is time . . story quilts

If I must say something about myself then . . . .  it must be the comforters that I make.  

After the passing of our eldest son in 2008 I made the first one.  A sort of memory ... or perhaps it started as something to keep my going.   

Now years later I still make them.  
Every one tells a story of our family.  It is a part of us. 

Worn jean, red heart made from a little chair that was re-upholstered. 

These quilts also tell about our road trips because no trip is without stopping somewhere to purchase a piece of cloth or old lace

To create one is a "battle" . . . I cut perfect and not so perfect pieces in the 

30cm blocks and then when there is 72 blocks the process can begin.

Antique lace from my granny's treasures 

Some charm from the Graphic Fairy 

Lots of hand sewing 

The batting at the back is now in place and a second cover is stitch in place. 

Thank you for visiting 

Till next time 

Sandra 

Kameel Stoepstorie: A jazzy month end

DeOudeHuize

Not much happens when you live in a hamlet.

The unread story is not a story. 

The reading reading it, makes it live: a live thing is a story 

What is a hamlet? 

It is a type of settlement and the definition varies from country to country, but it usually refers to a small settlement with a small population that is usually under 100 and is situated in a rural are. Hamlets are typically unincorporated communities. 

Well on this day a lot happened. 

On month end things change and every body came from near and far to do the monthly shopping. 

Music is playing and must say that the beat can you drive you out the walls.

All in all a happy mood. 

If music is a place - then Jazz is the city, Folk is the wilderness, Rock is the road and Classical is a temple. 

The celebrations take place every end of a month.
With some shopping to do and some beer to drink.
Some come for the musical entertainment and for the children to have fun.
The music reminded of New Orleans or Duke Ellington.
Not sure?

Every one makes a trip to the shop in all sorts of transportation 

We saw this cart make a couple of round trips and named him "The Local Taxi" 

Trip nr 1. . . . .  

Trip nr 2 . . . . .

. . . . and Trip nr 3 

Soon the sun sets and its time to go home 

Done to soon all packed up and ready for the home ride 

The music with its jazzy beat came to an end!
Or was it a chill hip hop song with a jazzy piano beat? 

Till next time 

Sandra