24 Mar Suurings and Tameletjies

الرحمن الرحیم بسم الله

In the name of Allah, most gracious most merciful.

24 March.





Sorrel

 Today breakfast is enjoyed under the canopy. We are surrounded by plants and cuttings and the smell of buchu is quite heady. There is a soft patter of rain and the air smells like rich soil. Early sparrows are scratching in the grass. Now and then as the rain eases up a bit, I dash around the garden beds checking to see how the plants are doing, trying to guide peas up the wigwams. I really should get some galoshes and a dry mac. And to my amazement there are two blossoms on the quince tree!

As a child of District Six we grew up more in tune with the seasons. When the daisies popped up in the veld, we knew that winter was over and spring had arrived with daisy chains, and suurings (sorrel blossoms) and blossoms on peach trees. We’d rummage around the veld under pine trees to pick up pine kernels. After gathering them in the hem our dresses, we would sit on a huge slate rock and chop them open. If we had enough we’d keep the rest for tameletjies.

Tamelêtjies

·         250g g pine kernels

·         2 cups of sugar

·         1 cup of water

·         Diced glazed ginger

Combine everything in saucepan and bring to boil, immediately bring heat down to medium whilst constantly stirring. As it starts becoming really sticky and changes colour to a light brown stir in kernels and finely diced glazed ginger. Immediately spoon into cookie cups and allow hardening before eating.

Agapanthus and cannas

On the slopes of Devils Peak, in the Dry Dock area, everyone had gardens. Fig trees, guava and loquat trees graced the backyards of many. Our neighbours would throw ripe figs over the wall for us, when we looked over longingly. Flowers were in abundance –malva, cannas, agapanthus, hydrangeas of all colours, Cape May bushes and the eternal intertwining of the honeysuckles, morning glories and rambling roses. Aah, a magical childhood interrupted… by the Forced Removals.

When we moved to the Cape Flats, I used to help my Mom plant gladioli bulbs and put it carnation cuttings. She really enjoyed the garden and of course her indoor plants such as fancy leaf, mother in laws tongue, hen and chicken and ferns. I must confess I am not the indoor plant kind of person. But once I saw hen and chicken plants grown all along a wall as a ground cover the full potential of the plant really took my breath away.

My uncle also nurtured a love for the environment. He had a small holding in Kuils River, with horses, sheep, chickens and pigeons. In the holidays, we would have the time of our lives helping with planting alfalfa, watching the calving and trying to help with the stables. Later, he established a nursery and came to visit with fruit trees of all kinds. Just before he passed on, he told his wife to come a bit closer he had a few things that he wanted to say to her.

Firstly, he said, “my plants always do better than yours because you never water well right down to the roots. Secondly, let me inform you where I planted the water melon seeds so you know where they will come up. And thirdly, please do not neglect your recital of the Qur’an, for it is only with His permission that everything we do has so much barakah.” When he passed they had forgotten the mesang and instead just pushed a long piece of branch to mark his grave. So apt I say.

The garden is also a very calming space. Some would say it is the giving of water, nutrition, and attention while others may say it is actually the feel of the soil through ones fingers and the colour of green that surrounds you. I say it’s all of the above and more. For me it is also a deeply spiritual space. In nature Allah’s presence is stark.

I deeply respect the life of farmers. Their dependence on Allah for a crop to be successful, their prayers for rain, their prayers for good weather. I mean what does a farmer really want,  but a good crop that gives her a hard - worked - for income, some vehicles and machinery, clean seed, a place to pray and give thanks and a stoep to watch the sun rise. When one looks at all of the texts, the prophets were all either herders or farmers at one stage of their lives or another. I watched the Umar series and his assessment of a camel herder is thought provoking. He turns to his brother and says something to this effect,” the herder knows every camel very well because they are all unique. It is the uniqueness of them all that makes them an outstanding herd.”

 I heard an interesting khutbah once and the lecture was about spaces where humanity has over cropped, over stripped the forests and turned it into barren land. The solution according to the lecture was to keep out human beings and send in the animals. The hooves of the wildebeest till the soil and their droppings enrich the earth. The rain waters the soil and in a few years the land is arable once more. Subghaanallah.

So today Alhamdulilaah, Allah sent Rahmah -the rain and mercy. No watering for me. While Abubakr is busy replanting papyrus, I could trim the celery plants and prepare to make a pot of soup for tomorrow. Just a pity the turnips are a bit too small.

Plant clean seed and be careful on the wet roads.

Yasmine