Loxtunned

How does one pick Loxton, South Africa as a place to explore, for whatever purpose? I’d be keen to hear from others, but can tell you that I used stratified random sampling. Intending to systematically check out rural and urban areas in each of the biomes of South Africa, I took the map and laid one degree (latitude by longitude) squares on each biome. None of these squares were contiguous, and at least three quarters of their area consisted of South African land (not sea or neighbouring nations). Towns and villages were identified within each degree square at a constant scale of 10km on Google Maps. Metropolises and cities were excluded, and only towns with significant urban populations and rural areas were retained. The random number generator in Excel was used to select two sample sites per degree square: one each of a town and a rural area. And that is how I meticulously incidentally picked Loxton as the rural area representing the Nama Karoo biome.

L: Driving in the Karoo; R: Walking in Loxton

I had proposed that a minimum of 30 households would be sampled at each site, but in the sparsely populated Karoo, especially the tiny settlement of Loxton, it was clear that finding respondents was going to be a task. The first household surveyed had large pelts on the wooden floors and hung on the walls alongside animal trophies. The second household surveyed belonged to a dear old lady (one of the handful octogenarians I had the privilege of speaking to) who with her husband grew food in her yard. It was past midday, and my field assistant and I walked the tree-shaded gravel road in search of the elusive third household. We came upon an uncharacteristic house with an open door, where we were welcomed in. An enthusiastic and friendly Gavin sat us down at his dining table and said we had come to the right place. He grows a lot of the food in Loxton.

Gavin is a self-made agro-entrepreneur who worked as a telecommunication technician with some big firms in Johannesburg before retiring and moving to Loxton a few years ago. Loxton has a history as a privately-owned 1800s Trekboer farm that was supplied by irrigation channels in 1900. In the early 1960s, the dam supplying the settlement was breached, resulting in a flash flood and rebuilding of much of the infrastructure. Gavin says the surface water in the dam fills up every seven years or so, and lasts only a year on the surface, but the aquifer continues to supply the irrigation channels through the year. He believes you can grow anything in Loxton, which to an outsider comes as something of a surprise considering how visibly dry and desert-like the Karoo surrounding the village appears. Gavin tries various hand-mixed substrate combinations of soil, sand, compost, and fertiliser on his farm, which is not much bigger than your average home backyard. There are 13 beds, 17m by 3m each, planted with maize and several fruits and vegetables, some in the open, some in a tunnel.

Gavin's garden

Inside the tunnel

He does not follow any permaculture design or organic principles, but does use raised beds, and homemade mulch and compost, and believes in hybrid technological solutions. He showed us the remote irrigation system he was building using photoreceptors, humidity sensors, and a radio transmitter that plugged into a programme on his laptop to switch on the water supply when radiation and humidity was neither too low nor too high, to achieve optimal input. Gavin has tried to engage the local community by skilling and employing them and donating saplings, but speaks of social problems. He believes the young are not interested in working, especially given the labour involved in farming and comparatively easier government grants for sustenance. He also mentions how vandalism and tree felling for fuelwood has squandered previous efforts and plans for tree planting in the area. However, this does not deter his entrepreneurial spirit. He also rears bees and chickens, and runs a bakery. He takes his bees to other farms to pollinate their crops and gets paid for this night job, as he refers to it.

On the farm, you can find beetroots, brinjals, butternuts, carrots, cucumbers, gem squashes, green peppers, okra (!), onions, parsnips, potatoes, pumpkins, six varieties of tomatoes, and turnips. The leaves growing on the farm include asparagus, cabbage, cauliflower, kale, two varieties of lettuce, rape, and spinach. Among the fruits are two varieties of apples, apricots, figs, grapes, nectarines, two varieties of peaches, plums, and watermelons. Chillies hold a place of pride in Gavin’s garden, and he has five varieties, including the fiery scotch bonnets and potent jalapenos. Off the top of his head, he gave me annual harvest estimates of 300 pumpkins and 500kg of onions! The harvest is sold to the local community from Gavin’s home, through local corner shop merchants, and to the local restaurant. There are no indigenous species on the farm, but Gavin is open to growing some provided information on what to grow and how to grow it. I was delighted to pick a basketful bounty of fresh vegetables for us.

Karoo delight

We returned a day later scouting for the remaining 27 respondents, and were successful in finding households in the township at Loxton. Like their neighbours in the slightly more urban Carnarvon, a considerable number of households ate sheep meat, and very few had food growing in their yards. There were some stark sights, however, such as the biggest prickly pear (Opuntia) plant I’ve ever seen, towering to about seven feet bearing almost ripe fruit, which passers-by picked freely; and tin houses on the very edge of the settlement with no water or electrical supply that were brightly decorated and chock-full of pumpkins and young fruit trees. I also remember a distinguished-looking lady sitting beside the giant prickly pear who interrupted her congregation with some young men to invite me to interview her (in their presence), and telling me all throughout that I was very mooi (beautiful in Afrikaans); and a rather enthusiastic gogo (grandmother) who lived alone in a large dilapidated house and insisted on answering my questions despite being busy with some rushed cooking. The warmth and resilience of the people shone through in Loxton.

Home garden in Loxton

Garden home in Loxton

The Karoo produces significant amounts of sheep and goat wool (including decadent mohair), and onions and garlic. The landscape is stunning, almost otherworldly, with its vast plateau stretching out beyond the horizon, with dolomite koppies (flat-topped sill hills) rising now and then. Driving through on the empty roads, one can spot the odd windpump, a flock of grazing sheep, some quiet antelopes. One morning, there was a lone bold blesbok drinking water close to the road, and a sharp Verreaux’s eagle gliding above, seemingly having caught sight of prey below. Another evening, I stood parked alone by the roadside in the still orange sunset, watching the grasses stand out amidst the grey scrub. And suddenly, a herd of springbok charged off in the distance, raising a dust cloud. My eyes followed the herd for a while as they chased across the flat and up a hill further away. The sun crossed the hill, its shadow creeping steadily upon the land and toward me. The peace and the pace of the Karoo is meditative, therapeutic. The land seems to speak of an ancient time when life was sparse. The sheer spaciousness of the Karoo inspires awe.