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Gxwetlintaba: a treasure off the beaten path

I am a firm believer that you can learn far more by going out and experiencing something than by sitting in a classroom. Sometimes the best thing to do is just to jump right in. This weekend I went on an adventure in the truest sense of the word. Six hours away from Durban down the coast of South Africa there lies a rural village called Gxwetlintaba. It is literally situated on the edge of a cliff and is a good 20 kilometers — about 13 miles — from any signs of civilization.

The road leading into the village is a mixture of rocks, potholes and dirt, which meant that the horrendous rain on the day of our arrival made it impossible for our minibus taxi to traverse the river that had taken over where the road should have been. We had to make a detour to a backpackers’ lodge near Port St Johns. This detour turned out to be its own little adventure, as the majority of our group became extremely ill from a combination of bad food and water. Fortunately, I was one of the lucky ones and didn’t get sick. Score one for the immune system! The next morning our group, now down to one third of its original size — the rest were staying at the lodge for another night to recuperate — made its way down the one-way dirt road to the village.

In Gxwetlintaba, I stayed with a family consisting of a mom, dad and their son. Their homestead was made up of two round mud huts with dung floors: a small tin hut without ventilation where they kept a fire burning day and night and a small rectangular hut also made of mud and dung floors. For dinner we ate butternut squash and corn that had been grown barely 10 feet away in the family’s private garden. All of the cooking, eating and socializing took place in the tiny tin hut. As soon as I walked in I was overcome by the smoke. After about two minutes, my nose was running and my eyes were so irritated that I was crying. I managed to stick it out for about two hours so I could witness a dance show performed by the son and his mother, and when I finally emerged from the smoky hut my shirt was wet with tears. It was totally worth it.

I know that I will never be able to do justice to the beauty of the scenery of this village. It is absolutely breathtaking. I walked about 30 yards from my host family’s home and just stood on the edge of a cliff. Looking down, I could see a waterfall pouring a couple hundred yards to the bottom of a ravine. Looking out, all I could see were hundreds of rolling green hills and cows grazing and being herded by men on horses. At night, there are stars. I have never seen so many stars in my entire life. I could have stared up at them for hours. Taking in my surroundings and staring up at the stars, it felt as if my family and I were the only people on Earth.  

I learned more at Gxwetlintaba in those few days I was there than I have on my entire trip thus far. From trying to communicate in Zulu to people who spoke only Xhosa, to crying in that tin hut (though not out of sadness), it was a great experience. Now that I am back in Durban, my house in Cato Manor feels like a mansion and I long for the nights of bundling up to go to sleep, instead of the nights now when I feel like I just might melt away. I miss the openness, the stars and even the cows. So next time you have the opportunity to do something out of the ordinary, to sleep in a mud hut, just dive right in. You might be surprised how much you find out about your surroundings and even yourself. Just do it. You won’t regret it.  
    
Megan’s column runs biweekly Tuesdays. She can be reached at m.stiles@cavalierdaily.com.

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