I've got a few, but will need to remember them. Best friend and I were out with the "grootmense" back when we were still very young. If I remember correctly we were around 13 or 14. We did the whole hunting thing apart from shooting our own quarry. We helped with skinning and gutting (that's actually where I learnt my skill, the little I have), cleaning, moving, cutting, cooking, etc. etc. So late one afternoon we were on the back of the farm's bakkie, called "Vlakvark". The bakkie, if I remember correctly, is a Jeep chassis with a Ford rear and some other thing's engine, but that's not the point. We were sitting and while driving back, done for the day, a round of beers came out (as is customary, I still follow this tradition to this day). Friend and I sat there, his dad with a few other "Ooms" around the bakkie and we ask for a beer as well. His dad decides that now is the time, and hands us a can of Windhoek Light to share (those days the cans were still white). We were amazed, really impressed with our own beer. Opened it up and I took a sip, handing the can to my friend. He took a sip and handed it back. And there we sat, me holding our beer and too ashamed to admit that it is pretty damn disgusting. I held it till my hand cramped from the cold and asked him if he wanted some more. "Nee dankie, ek dink nie ek is lus nie." So I handed the beer to the guide at the camp (Johannes was his name, passed away a few years ago, rest his soul). Only years later did we both admit that it really was "vrek sleg"!