Day 141: Tannie Caty Ludick

My first stop in Schweizer-Reneke that Saturday morning was the chemist. I must have looked odd, walking into this environment laden with bags and looking rather tired, but the pharmacist, Coenrad, wasn’t your garden variety pharmacist and took it all in his stride.

I find out that Coenrad is also a farmer, a husband and father, a politician, and an Argus cyclist. Soon we two kindred adventurers are sharing stories while he dispenses medicine and I am sipping on the cup of tea that just arrived in front of me. As customers walk up to the counter so they, too, share in our stories and add their own embellishments. One client is Tannie Meisie, a sweet soul of some eighty-plus years with a naughty twinkle in her bright eyes, who promptly takes my number so that she can keep track of me and send me words of encouragement from time to time80.

Eventually I ask my usual question and am given the name of Tannie Caty Ludick as the perfect person for me to meet in this dorpie. Armed with clear directions I set off . . . and manage to misplace myself nonetheless. The scene, when I finally arrive at Tannie Caty’s, is unusual to say the least. A police van pulls up and the chemist’s delivery man on his bicycle swerves to a stop at the same time. Two ladies are walking to and fro on the pavement, speaking animatedly into their cellphones. I have a funny feeling about this . . . but already one of the policemen approaches me. ‘Yes, she has just arrived!’ I overhear one of the ladies report.

Without much preamble the policeman demands to know my name, where I’m from and what I am selling. ‘Ok, I’ll tell her,’ I hear the older lady say.

My head reels. What is going on? I am answering the policeman when the delivery guy comes over and hands me an envelope. ‘Mr Coenrad sent me to give you this.’

Inside is a R100 note. This is the country of my birth. These are the people that live here. Strangers. Strangers who care. I thank him and he cycles away, smiling.

The policemen, meanwhile, are satisfied that I am not peddling drugs. Just before they leave they hand me their telephone numbers, in case I cannot find anywhere to sleep.

The ladies and I are left and I walk over to them now, less than confident after such an dramatic entrance. I am not too sure what to expect. Neither are they. We introduce ourselves. I meet Tannie Caty Ludick and her daughter, Suzette. They tell me that they were on calls with the pharmacist and Tannie Meisie. What a way to discover that you potentially have a guest for the night.

Tannie Caty has a sharp look in her eyes and a little frown between her brows. I am about to aplogise and beg my leave when she invites me in for coffee. She still looks sceptical though.

This is my 141st day on the road and for the first time I feel intimidated. I sit and squirm at the questions that are darted in my direction . . . fast and ferocious. My whole pedigree is poked at. I doubt that this lady will put me up for the night, so I relax and see the situational comedy in the chain of events that has led to this moment. And that’s when she blows me away by inviting me to stay with a smile so big that it lights up the entire room. She tells me that if I wasn’t supposed to be here then I would surely have been struck down outside her gates. She is a lady of very strong faith. Besides, she was only at home because her garage door has jammed. That is a sign that my arrival here was destined.

In the end we spent three days together and I received plenty nourishment for body and soul.