The Importance Of Pudding

What happens when there’s a power cut two days before the annual Dankfees in Merweville, threatening the pudding output? Everyone pitches in to help, that’s what – including visitors from all over the country.

- Erns Grundling

It’s 10.30 pm on a Friday and Merweville is quiet. The streetlights cast shallow pools of light. At least the streetlights are working: An hour ago, this little Karoo town was still in the dark. The power had been out for about 30 hours.

The power failure couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time: It’s the Dankfees weekend, an annual highlight for this farming community.

A blue Ford bakkie pulls up. It’s Belia Muller, owner of Muller Handelaars. She’s here to bring me the key to the guesthouse next door. “We had to use the generator at the store to power the fridges,” she says. “We had to make a plan – bazaar pudding has to be kept cold!”

Over the next few days I’ll learn that making a plan is something the people of Merweville are very good at indeed.

Unleash the visitors

It’s Saturday morning and the caravan park opposite my guesthouse is bursting at the seams. Men recline in camping chairs and sip coffee. A boy runs through the campsite with his toothbrush clenched in his teeth. Other kids pedal past on their bikes, their chatter rivalling that of the weavers in the karee trees.

Despite a recent influx of incomers who have bought and renovated holiday houses in town, Merweville is not a busy place. That all changes during the Dankfees, however, when up to a thousand people arrive for the weekend.

On the festival pamphlet, there’s a paragraph that reads: “Even though we’re experiencing a severe drought, we can look back at all the Dankfees festivals held since 1909 and know that God is great and merciful. [...] The Merweville Dankfees is a festival unlike any other. It’s a festival with heart, a festival that cares. It’s a have-you-been-there festival. Everyone is welcome.”