What the feed on
by Anne Andersen
I am often asked what the population of Lesotho feeds on. The
answer has often been a little under end because from the outside
it looks like to some degree they feed on the same as us here in
Denmark. They sit at the checkout at the supermarket, they serve in
restaurants, are teachers, bank clerks, taxi drivers, pizza bakers,
nurses etc. Not only in the countryside they have cows, sheep,
goats, pigs and horses. They also have livestock in the middle of
their capital, so agriculture must be added to "what they feed on."
On the trip I have been on in October 2011 we saw some dromedaries,
that vegetated on the lawn by the Ministry of Agriculture. They
don't feed on them. They were not used for anything. They were a
gift from Gaddafi!

One evening the bus with us ten participants arrived to Aloe
Guesthouse in Pitseng. Cow cranes were starting to find shelter for
the night in a pair of tall pines, and Ibis were screaming
themselves. We were hungry, and going to eat. We walked past a big
white painted truck engine, which apparently was gratuitous beside
a building. Outside the building there were some steel crates with
chimneys on. I wondered about it, but forgot it quickly, as there
was rice, stew and moroho on the table.
Next morning when we went from breakfast, I got the answer to what
it was. Not right away of course, but little by little. First I saw
some women come bearing some heavy white sacks. On them was
written: corn, rice, made in China etc. Then a woman came with a
large piece of plastic, which she spread out on the ground. Others
had picked tubs and barrels, which were put on the plastic. A young
woman sat in the shade nursing a tiny baby, and beside her she had
a child who had almost learned to walk. Now all was ready to start
work. The bags were opened and the contents proved not to be rice
and maize. It was something reddish and brown. It was distributed
in casks. Then one of the older women took a dish and held it up
high and began to pour the contents into a bowl, and the wind took
some of the lightweight material away. Another sack was emptied
onto a steel table and a woman began to sort. The young mother had
finished breastfeeding and the baby was tied to her back so she
could work. She had both her children with her at work, and despite
the fact that they both wept, she had to use her hands fast to
sort.
Now I had to go close to see what it was, they worked with. It was
dried rosehip. Not the big fat ones, as we know from the beaches in
Denmark, but some smaller ones, resembling the wild rose hips, we
use for Christmas decorations. Now the answer was there on what the
truck engine and the strange steel boxes with chimneys on were for.
This was obviously a place for the drying of rosehip. The women
said they picked the rose hips in the countryside. They were used
as a spice and marmalade. At the ongoing tour of the country all
our eyes had now been opened to the fact that there are actually
many rose hip bushes with delicate pink flowers. Rose hip can be
added to "what they feed on."