November 18 2011, Kamastone, Eastern Cape. I am at the house of Mrs. Betty Ngoni whose grandson graduates from inititation school today. Ma Betty is over the top with anticipation and beaming with pride as Sizwe Ngoni, child of her child Busisiwe Ngoni, is about to come home sound and safe, initiated in Xhosa etiquette, circumcised, instructed about his status, his rights, responsibilities and duties as a grown man and full member of  the community. Three goats will be roasted, there is plenty of traditional, home-brewed umqombothi and soft drinks for the young ones. Tomorrow, she expects over a hundred guests.

I have already enjoyed Ma Betty’s unconditional hospitality four weeks earlier, and it breaks my heart to leave her home at 4:00 am the next morning, like a thief in the night,  just because I have overcharged a silly to-do list instead of leaving a few gaps for improvisation in a country 40 times the size of Belgium. The other guests have not even arrived. It feels like a really rude thing to do now. Must not let that happen again.