Visiting the Great Karoo was magic and a massage for the soul. For many years since I met my good friend Glenda Swart I delighted in her tales of their annual visits to spend Christmas in the tiny Hamlet of Nieu Bethesda near Graaff-Reinet in the Great Karoo. Glenda and her late husband Norman bought a house in this little town for a song years ago and they just loved spending time there with close friends. Glenda's brother the famous South African playwright Athol Fugard (who also has a home there but now lives in America) wrote many of his famous plays in this tranquil little village. So I was anxiously looking out for the turn off for the dirt road that would take us towards the Sneeuberg (Snow mountain) and Kompasberg Mountains (Compass Mountain) right into the heart of the Great Karoo. The Great Karoo as seen from the Lootsberg pass To appreciate the vastness and magnitude of the Great Karoo it helps to have some idea of how this land was formed aeons ago. During these ancient times, millions of years ago, the landmass of South Africa was part of the super continent called Gondwanaland that broke into many parts to form the continents of the world as we know them today.
Through the following millions of years tectonic arching, geological shifts, subsequent breaking and the formation of crevasses, resulting volcanic eruptions, wind and water erosion and other forces of nature shaped the image of the land. Looking at a relief map of South Africa one sees a cornice of mountains hugging the borders of the continent on the west, south and east of the country like a huge horseshoe. This is referred to as the Great Escarpment. In the east the Drakensberg of Natal and the eastern Transvaal and the Maluti Mountains in the Kingdom of Lesotho reaches heights of up to 4000 metres above sea level and in the south the highest peaks of the mountain ranges of the Western Cape are about 2000 metres. 
Nieu Bethesda waiting upon our arrival Towards the Indian and Atlantic oceans there is a partially narrow strip of land in front of the escarpment. On the Eastern border of the country this narrow strip next to the warm Indian Ocean is called the Lowveld in Mpumalanga and the Limpopo provinces and in the Eastern Cape Province it forms what is known as the Wild Coast and the Garden Route. These coastal plains have high, very fertile precipitations. The western part on the Atlantic Ocean, due to the cold Benguela current, is a coastal desert that reaches up to Namibia and Angola. Crossing the Great Escarpment one gets to the central high plateau generally referred to as the Highveld that reaches heights between 1000 and 1700 metres. This plateau slowly declines towards the north to the Kalahari basin that doesn't have an outlet. Because the surrounding mountain chain forms a catchment area for the clouds from the sea the precipitation on the Highveld is low resulting in arid and semi-desert conditions as seen in the Northern Cape, the western parts of the Free State and the Northwest Province. Nieu Bethesda Traveling towards the mountains of the Cape our first stop brought us to the Lootsberg Pass from where we had our first spectacular view of the Great Karoo from a height of 1 789 metres. At the time of our visit the semi-desert of the Karoo was flowering after the good rains of the past summer and bright colourful yellow flowers could be seen everywhere. The aloes however were past their flowering season but we never the less stopped to allow Peter to have a closer look at them after we left the national road to go along a dirt road that brought us to Nieu Bethesda. 
The Owl House and the Donkey Express Just north of Nieu Bethesda we had to stop once more for me to take pictures of the little village that lies cozily hugged amongst the spectacular outcrops of precariously balanced barren rocks with the Kompassberg and Snow Mountains in the distance. I could identify so very well with Kobus Moolman's desciption of the Kompasberg silhouette as watching over Nieu Bethesda like a huge Roman Profile. The main attraction of Nieu Bethesda is the now famous Owl House. This house belonged to Helen Martins, one of the eccentric inhabitants of the town, by some regarded as somewhat weird and maybe even a little batty. Helen Martins had an obsession with light and colour, owls and camels. Her desire to bring light and colour into her seemingly grey life lead to her life-time work of embellishing her immediate living environment with what is now looked upon as works of art. To express her deepest feelings, her dreams and desires she started making numerous cement and glass sculptures of camels, owls and other figures after she decorated the interior of her home with mundane articles that surrounded her and elaborate patterns of crushed glass embedded in brightly coloured paint. As one walks through the house the vibrant decorations emit a luminous glow from windows, ceilings and walls that makes one stand in wonder at what the mind of this woman must have been like. 
Miss Helen's bedroom It was only after Helen finished the interior of her home that she started making sculptures of cement and glass with the help of a man called Koos Malgas. Over a period of 12 years she created hundreds of relief figures that now crowd what is known as the "Camel Yard". Her favourite animals, namely camels and owls, predominate and a procession of almost life-size shepherds and wise men lead a train of camels facing east depicting her integrated fascination with Christianity and the Orient. This procession also inspired Athol Fugard to write his play "The Road to Mecca" even though he never met Helen Martins in person. 
Inviting the Karoo sunlight... To me walking through the "world" of Helen Martins brought a sense of sadness and loneliness. From what is said about her Helen Martins had a troubled relationship with the other inhabitants of Nieu Bethesda and many regarded her as mentally disturbed. I just saw her as a sad and lonely woman that had no desire to associate with the values and dreams of the people around her that eventually lead to her horrible suicidal death from drinking caustic soda!
Upon pondering about Helen Martins with Peter after our visit and discussing how some people perceived her mentally Peter pointed out the opposite view by saying: "Through the eyes of Helen Martin perhaps the rest of the community was mentally disturbed. She had a task to accomplish and went about her business but her creatures didn't blend in with the white picket fences and pink flamingos other people thought were appropriate. What would have happened if she would have remembered to put a "for sale" sign on each of those things she had in the back yard?" 
The Camel Yard Peter's comment made a lot of sense to me particularly since her work now brings hordes of people (that will eventually lead to more commercialisation) to Nieu Bethesda and will probably spoil this pretty little hamlet as more and more tourists trample the dusty streets to come and appreciate what is now already perceived as her "modern art"...Prices of property have already sky-rocketed in comparison to what it was a few years ago and Nieu Bethesda is already advertised as a venue for profitable future investments... The Owl House is however not the only pleasant attraction in Nieu Bethesda. The tranquillity and wondrous atmosphere of the environment brings many artists here. Some set up craft shops and art galleries and others just came here to write their stories and compose their poems, painting or whatever to express their deepest feelings like Helen Martins did. Others, like my friend Glenda, are lucky to have homes here where they can spend quality time with good friends, have fun and refresh their weary souls. 
Ibis Cafe While we were with Glenda we had access to a few of Athol's plays but too little time to read them all. Glenda also passed on a book with poems of Kobus Moolman, a young artist who wrote the following poignant essay:
"Sitting on the bank of the Gats River, my fingers stiff and numb from the biting cold. In the distance the sharp profile of the Kompasberg. The cries of hadedas punctuating the air and in the background the creak of a monotonous old wind-pump.
It is good to be alone and taking the evening on one's own terms, using one's own language. The language with which one learnt to love and doubt and understand this life.
A silent flock of birds makes letters in the crisp air of the fading day. Now and again they change direction, changing leader.
The light is golden brown on the hills behind the village for and instant only then they succumb to shadow".
(From: "Stone Song" by Kobus Moolman)
I cannot add anything more than to say that Nieu Bethesda was an unforgettable experience that touched my heart with deep thoughts and brought a profound sense of peace and tranquility to my whole being... South of New Bethesda
Preserving memories as we depart from the village... |
