Text: Leilani Basson. Article from the January 2013 issue of Leisure Wheels Magazine.
At a road stall between Henties Bay and Usakos, Namibia, Leilani Basson encountered a desert rose for the first time
“My naam is Jakopien, mevrou,” said the girl in her school uniform, behind the table laden with Namibian gemstones.
At first she had spoken in English to me and the other customers. I’d been watching her for a while. Her polished look, neatly braided hair and youthful glow were in stark contrast to the dusty world she lived in.
The disparity between her brightness and the faded placards “decorating” the stone walls of the kraal-like road stall was almost upsetting.
I couldn’t help but feel that she didn’t belong there. Such charm, business savvy and PR skills are few and far between – even in the high-end jewellery shops in Johannesburg. There was so much passion, diligence and pride about her. Innocence, too.
“If you don’t mind coming this way, ma’am, I will show you what the raw product looks like.”
She would then elaborate on the specific stone, give some history about its origins and then take her clients back to the “finished” product table, and display the stone on a velvet strip. Just like a seasoned sales lady would do.
All the stones that clients show an interest in are placed on this strip, to review again before the final purchase is made.
Jakopien is 16 years old. Despite her confidence when working with customers, she is quite shy when the attention turns to her. She keeps blushing and looks down, smiling, while I question her and her mother about her obvious talents.
She works at the gemstone stall after school. Her mom, Erna, is very proud of her. “Ek het die kind mooi geleer,” says Erna. “Sy’s lekker slim.”
I want to support Jakopien’s efforts and buy a few stones from her, including a desert rose, which, until then, had been just a phrase in a Sting song. I never knew what a desert rose looked like, or what it felt like.
Jakopien tells me that desert roses take hundreds of years to “grow” and that they are composed mostly of gypsum and sand.
She explains that they form as seawater evaporates in the hot sun, which is why they are found in regions where oceans have already disappeared or are drying up. The desert rose is also “a member of the salt family…”
After paying and taking a photo of Jakopien, I can’t help but feel sad. The salt of the earth. A real life desert rose. This child has all the potential in the world, but what opportunities will come her way at this T-junction between Henties Bay and Usakos in this land of sand?
I think of Jakopien often when I walk past the shelf in the hallway that displays the desert rose that touched my heart. I hope that other travellers will also notice her and appreciate her lustre and shine.
If you happen to stop there, ask for Jakopien or Erna – the salt of the earth. Two desert roses, waiting for the rain.
