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Becoming a Philosopher 4
I couldn't help comparing Sven to Matt. Sven was six years older than Matt and was doing his doctoral studies in philosophy, and he wasn't half the practical philosopher that Matt was. In fact, at times he was quite naïve. I wouldn't tell him or anyone else this, but that was my preliminary assessment. Don't get me wrong, I liked him a lot and you might judge me the same way as the product of a posh Cape Town private boys' school.
I helped Sven pack his car and brought my new tent and camping gear along to take on our trip to Lesotho. I knew Lesotho well, as my dad's late brother lived there most of his life. I was Sven's ideal assistant, and I would be given a stipend from his research account for the work I did. I had a smattering of Sesotho but the people we'd meet all spoke English. It took us two days with a stopover to get to the Mountain Kingdom, and once in this landlocked country, we headed for tranquil Morija where would base ourselves. It was winter and not an ideal time to visit, heavy snow was common over the high-lying areas and we had to keep an eye on weather forecasts.
We had a lot of discussions on African philosophy on our trip, the focus of Sven's research. I questioned the term itself and wondered if African spirituality might not be better, after all, spirituality is a way of life. Beliefs cannot be separated from a person's external factors. I argued that the two go hand and hand and paly out in a person's everyday life. In a sense, it is a holistic spirituality because it considers everything. Sven knew that, unlike other beliefs, African spirituality or mindset isn't bound by a formal text, and at heart, it was an oral tradition.
The owner of the guest house was a friend of my late uncle and was thrilled to see me after so many years. Her husband had also passed away recently, and she kept the guest house going. The guest house was built on a hill, it has incredible views and overlooks the historic village below.
Sven wanted to interview some of the people in the village who worked at the theological college of the Evangelical Church. Ingrid knew many of the people and offered to help with introductions. She also reminded me that the Whitherspoon surname would also help in breaking down barriers.
Ingrid had put us in a cottage a little away from the main house. As soon as we unpacked, I made a fire with the wood that had been collected. The solar-heated water geyser provided an excellent shower, Sven and I enjoyed soaping each other up and playing with each other's dicks.
We moved the two single beds together to make a double bed. We didn't bother with clothes and climbed into bed just before the generator switched off. The fire lit up the room and our shadows danced on the thatched roof. Facing each other we kissed, and our dicks touched. We were both rock-hard. Sven whispered and asked if he could fuck me. He had brought some lube, and I was curious to give it a go with him. I was on my back, and he lifted my legs and smeared the lube into my hole. My legs rested on his shoulders. He smeared lube over his dancing dick. He leaned down and kissed me and slowly pushed his dick into my arse. It hurt like hell, and he put more lube in my hole. I gritted my teeth as he pushed in. I eventually felt his dick in my arse. It was a strange feeling at first with all the pain, but it became easier as he slowly began to push in and out. He was making satisfied sounds and the next thing he shot off inside me. My body shuddered as I orgasmed too. Sven came down and licked the cum off my stomach. It all happened very quickly, and we lay on our backs fondling each other's dicks and fell asleep.
The next day my arse was sore from our encounter. We showered and had breakfast and then made our way to the village to set up interviews.
One of the professors started talking immediately, not bothering with a slot. He said he had time and explained that African spirituality and African philosophy are two distinct but interconnected aspects of African culture.
Sven knew that African spirituality referred to the beliefs, practices, and rituals that are rooted in the traditional religions of various African cultures. But the professor made it clear that it encompassed a wide range of beliefs and practices that varied across different regions and ethnic groups in Africa. He emphasised that in Lesotho, and elsewhere in Africa, it involved a strong connection to nature, ancestor worship, and a belief in the existence of a supreme being or a divine force.
"In Africa, it emphasises the importance of community, harmony, and balance in all aspects of life. African philosophy refers to the intellectual and philosophical traditions that have developed in Africa over centuries. It includes a broad range of philosophical ideas and concepts exploring different aspects of human existence, knowledge, ethics, and metaphysics. African philosophy is different because of its holistic and communal approach, which emphasizes the interconnectedness of all things and the importance of collective well-being. Remember that it incorporates elements of oral tradition, proverbs, and storytelling and they convey our philosophy."
The professor ended by saying that while African spirituality and African philosophy are distinct, they are deeply intertwined:
"African spirituality provides the foundation for African philosophical thought because it shapes the worldview, values, and ethical principles that guide philosophical inquiry. In African philosophy we want to understand and interpret the spiritual dimensions of African culture, and gain insight into the nature of existence, morality, and the human condition."
We spent two more days in Morija before setting off to Semonkong. The weather forecast was good, and once we passed Roma, we made our way up some newly built roads to this high-altitude town. The road crossed through some spectacular passes on the way to this remote outpost. We booked into a local lodge and enjoyed the quaint pub and the restaurant, with a fire burning in the corner. There was a pool table in the pub and a dart board which provided some entertainment. A large TV screen showed sports events behind the bar counter, and after three beers we were a lot more relaxed after the drive. The dinner was tasty, and we sat around a fire and drank whiskey afterward and Sven held my hand.
Later that evening Sven and I sat in our room watching the late news. We were sitting close to each other, and Sven was playing with my dick. My dick was straight up and bouncing about when I took my clothes off in the room, and Sven asked me to fuck him. Sven held my hand as we made our way to the bed. Sven lay face down on the bed, he lifted his arse slightly as I used the lube to massage him and to slick up my dick. I went down carefully and pushed my dick into his inviting hole. My dick slipped in easily as I slowly began my in-and-out movements. Sven was enjoying it. At one point I stopped and lay on Sven holding him tight, breathing heavily. Sven turned his head and we kissed for a while. I picked up my pace, and in no time, I gasped: "Coming, coming". Sven shot his load at the same time, and we lay quietly in the warm room watching the crackling fire.
The next morning, we filled our water bottles and hiked to the Maletsunyane Falls The views were spectacular as the winter skies were clear and there was no pollution. It was a beautiful morning; the mountain air was crisp and icy, and the few remaining mountain flowers glistened in the morning sun. We hiked across rough terrain and enjoyed the sparse mountain vegetation and saw some storks in the fields and at one point we came across a lone buck grazing in the cold. The snow was thick on the higher-lying parts.
We hiked down a valley and crossed a series of small rock pools, some covered in ice. When we got to the viewpoint, we unpacked our sandwiches and crisps. We stripped down to our shorts in the middle of winter we ate our lunch. We joked around a bit, and after lunch, we lay on our backs soaking up the winter sun. The clouds were building up and we headed back to the lodge.
I noticed that Sven was increasingly more anxious in Lesotho, despite him taking his medication. I wondered if it was caused by all the new experiences or the unfamiliarity of the place. He didn't have any panic attacks or anything, but I found him even more clingy than usual. For example, that night I had set up an interview with a retired Professor Mojale who had worked in South Africa and now lived in Semonkong. I was going to stay in the room and watch some TV, but he insisted that I join him.
Mojale was incredibly friendly, and had known my uncle, and said that I looked a bit like him. He had a disarming laugh and joked about the dismal economic and political situation in the country. He loved his beer and introduced Sven to the famous Maluti Ale. Mojale was probably the easiest of all the people to speak to and joked with Sven.
"Ntate," he said "What on earth are you dabbling in this stuff for, stick to those Nordic philosophers like Kierkegaard, it's far less messy. Philosophy-spirituality in Africa is far more complex than Westerners think. Hindus say that there are as many Hinduisms as there are Hindus, and I think that's the same with African spirituality. Come, drink some more Maluti."
Mojale then turned to me and laughingly said:
"Tom, it's a pity your late uncle isn't around anymore. He understood our world very well and was a master of our language and culture. He would be able to explain our philosophy in your terms - and he wouldn't be drinking Maluti when he told you but sorghum beer."
The professor spoke till late, and Sven recorded everything. Sven was much more relaxed after a few Maluti beers and interacting with such a convivial person. He also felt more satisfied having collected so much data.