Botswana

Diamonds And Plastic

Posted on by Laughingnomad

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On the way back to Maun Botswana in the Safari truck, Rod explains that the area around Maun is in the fastest growing area in the southern hemisphere because of the discovery of diamonds and with it comes the technology to make plastic-there is paper and plastic everywhere.

Gary says the safari owners have tried to start campaigns to clean up the plastic but the grocery store clerks, for example, will put individual chicken pies in plastic, several of these go into a plastic bag and that goes into another plastic bag at the check-out counter. So it hangs in trees like Christmas ornaments, gets caught in bushes and fences and clutches the sides of the roads. Actually it reminds me of Los Angeles freeways. We get to quickly check email before driving on to the Truck camp.

All over Africa we have seen references to preservation of culture, celebration of diversity and unity in diversity, themes familiar to us as westerners.

May 31 Sitatunga Camp
We hit the showers and camp again that night at Sitatunga. It feels like we are back in civilization again; I fall into George’s arms saying how happy I am to see him again! He loves it. The other riders party in the bar but Bob and I hit the sack as we will be up before daylight to hit the road again.

Fireside In The Delta

Posted on by Laughingnomad

In Maun, Botswana, the overland truck had arranged for a makoro (canoe) safari out in the middle of the Ocavanda Delta. It included a four hour animal walk and swim in a swimming hole but I stay at camp. We discuss the use of the word “togs.” New Zealanders use it meaning a swim suit and the English use it to refer to any clothing.

That night we sit around the fire and the makoro polers entertain us with Hippo stories and magic tricks.

Then I thought of that one dark rainy day in Lisbon, Portugal, months before, when we had been walking through the Columbus plaza. It was empty except for a small group of Black vendors selling dark glasses out in the middle. Curious…because who would want dark glasses on a day like that, I walked up to them. Duh!

“Hashish?” they asked. “What the hell,” I had figured, and bought some. Then forgot about it…until we were sitting around that campfire that night in the ocavanga Delta in Botswana. So I brought it out and offered it to the kids…mostly Brits but also an Aussie and Kiwi couple (Bob and I were the only ones older than 25 on the truck). The look on Rod’s face-Rod the South African trip leader-was horrified. “You had that on you as we crossed all those borders?!” he yelled. The borders only having been Kenya, Tanzania, Malawi, Zambia and Botswana. 😉 “Yes,” I sheepishly answered. Then he made the kids smoke the whole bag before he would let us leave the campfire!

I crawl into the tent this night because I am tired of sleeping in dirt and wouldn’t you know it-that’s when the animals all came through the camp during the night-lions, jackals, elephants, zebras and hyenas bringing all their different voices with them. I now realize the polers all sleep around the campfire for a reason…

Okavango Delta By Makoro

Posted on by Laughingnomad

The Makoro Trip through the Delta
By the time the 1300 km long Okavango, southern Africa’s third largest river, enters Botswana from Angola, through the Caprivi Strip in Namibia, it begins to spread and sprawl as it is absorbed by the air and Kalahari sands and disappears in a maze of lagoons, channels and islands covering 15,000 square km-the size of Massechusetts.

We walk through black primal muck in bare feet for several yards and very very carefully climb into the canoes or Mekoros, shallow-draft dugouts that are hewn from ebony or sausage-tree logs. Two passengers sit low or lie in the canoe with baggage between their knees and a poler (ours was a barefoot 16 year old with tiny dreads) stands in the stern with a ngashi-a pole made from the Magonano tree. The poler negotiates the labyrinthine waterways on the two-hour ride through the reeds and yellow and blue lilies of the shallow Delta to our camp on a Delta island. The sound of the poling is rythmic-the ride quiet
and restful.

After setting up the tents Bob and the rest of the group went on the two hour sundown walk to sight animals. You are not going, the guides ask me. I say, no I am going to stay here and be quiet. They all smile knowingly-this they understand. I stay in camp, lean up against a downed dead tree and meditate myself into Bliss. When the trekkers return we have dinner. The polers sit with us-their daily rations are 500 g of mielie meal, 250g of white sugar, six tea bags and salt and powdered milk. But when we have all dished up Rod offers them each a portion of what is left of our dinner. I sleep out under the stars that night with Rod and the polers and some of the others-Bob in the tent.

AIDS & The Ocavango Delta

Posted on by Laughingnomad

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Wed May 29-30 , 2002
Can’t stop in Maun to check email because nothing opens until 10am. Gary takes us into the Delta on his Safari wagon with two long seats back to back down the middle of the truck bed.

As we drive through town he stops by the cemetery on the outskirts of the town to explain all the new graves covered in green awnings to keep the evil spirits away; 37% of the people in Botswana has the HIV Virus. The epidemic is exacerbated by the local belief system that you get AIDS from condoms…that the way to cleanse yourself from the disease is to sleep with a virgin-so there are a lot of rapes. Many of the locals, according to a South African newspaper think AIDS stands for something like “Americans Interfering…” I can’t find the exact quote now.

Thousands of graves-row upon rows-are all covered with new blue awnings “to keep away the evil spirits.” They won’t win this one Gary says. Don’t fraternize with the locals he warns as he gets back in the truck.

Later we read an article in the Botswana Guardian reporting on a recent AIDS Awareness campaign that said that superstitious beliefs are being blamed for a rise in ritual murders, trafficking in human body parts to obtain substances for potions they believe will strengthen them against misfortune, and false AIDS cures. Human sacrifice is needed, many Africans believe, for the purpose of obtaining a victim’s life force through a potion. The article went on to say that the Traditional Healers Association of South Africa has condemned healers who tell their patients suffering from AIDS that the disease can be cured through sex with a virgin.

In Mozambique, health officials are cataloguing traditional medical practices with anthropologists from the Maputo campus of the University of Mozambique with the aim of separating out good information from bad and legislating against promoting harmful practices, according to Dr. Manuel Ferriera. “You can’t use reason against superstition,” Musa Khumalo, a ministry official said. “Sometimes you just have to legislate against it.”

The Safari truck takes two hours and 11 minutes (Bob says) through Maun, down a side road to a dirt road that takes us through Mapani trees and thorn bushes that whip the truck and threaten us, and across the Buffalo fence to the edge of the Delta where the Mekuros and the polers are waiting for us.

On the way we stop twice to give Heather time to hang her head over the side (ethanol…alcohol…poisoning from the night before, Bob says) while Gary tells us about the local people. They make their mud huts out of Termite Mound mud because the saliva from the termites that is in the mud, when mixed with water, makes a kind of very hard cement-like mud. Even though the mounds stand peak-shaped anywhere from four to 15 feet above ground, 90% of the rest of the mound is underground and it is this soil that the people dig out for their huts.

Gary says he is the local bus system for the people in the mud hut villages along the way. When he comes through they ask to catch a ride on the way back to Maun…then they catch a ride with him on his next trip into the Delta in 2-3 days. They shop mainly for sugar, flour, tea, pop (sudsa) and meat, he says. Well, at least it keeps the brain functioning if not the rest of the body.

At the Buffalo Fence a woman appears who opens the gate and counts us to make sure the same number of people that go in come out again.

Maun & Sitatunga Camp

Posted on by Laughingnomad

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Tues May 28,2002 To Sitatunga Camp near Maun Botswana
Up at 5:30 again. Had wieners, eggy bread (French Bread) with honey and canned spaghetti for breakfast. James is doing his usual antic-body stuff while eating his eggy bread-“fucking sweet honey!” he says out of the blue and everybody laughs-suddenly awake. James is usually very animated and pretty funny.

It’s 200 km to Maun (rhymes with down) where we will wonder around the town for a couple hours before we continue on to our camp for the night. On the way we see two Oryx and Rod explains how their unique breathing aparatus works although I can’t remember any of it. Later we saw Ostriches again. Rod says they are the largest birds in the world and they can kill a human by stamping them with their feet. When they run it looks as if they are running on a water bed.

We stop for toilet and suddenly a big army truck filled with army guys pulls in after us….oh, no we all yell…but they were just checking to see if we were alright and pulled back out on the road again. George hides the meat from the veterinary road checks that are looking for meat with lung disease before we take off again.

The truck slows down again and we look to see a dead cow by the side of the road with about a dozen or so vultures hovering around it. The truck stops so we view the whole grizzly process: One vulture gets on top of the cow and punctures a hole near the rear of the stomach. The entire head of the vulture disappears into the hole and then others take their turn. As the truck starts to pull out again everyone lets out a YUKKK…as one of the birds sticks his head up the bum! Rod says we should be grateful to the vulture and the hyena…keeps disease from spreading…The birds are even built for good hygiene, he says, hardly any feathers on the head and neck for smooth entering of the hole…so what’s so sick we remind ourselves…we eat dead meat too!

Many of the younger women walking along side the road are wearing their hair in plaits and the young guys have those tiny dreads with heads shaved around the sides. I was told later in Swakopmund Namibia by a young guy with the same hairstyle that they got it (hair shaved nearly to the top of the head) from an early American black rap star! When I teased him about naughty rap lyrics he just laughed but a couple older black Africans who overheard me nodded their heads up and down in assent-all the while making faces. Don’t think the older ones approve of the young black male African penchant for black American rap!

Some of the older women from the Herero tribe are wearing long Victorian-style dresses that flare way out at the bottom. The unusual dress, which is now a tribal trademark, was forced upon them by prudish German missionaries in the late 19th century. On their heads the women wear a huge “hat” that looks much like a very wide bow. What is very distinctive about these women, however, is the regal and proud way they carry themselves when dressed this way.

We will see some of these women later in Namibia. Actually, the whole outfit reminded me of the red and white dress and headbow that the stereotypical “mammy” wore in early American movies. Apparently when in traditional dress the men wore a variation of the Scottish tartan kilt but we don’t see any of those.

We stop for internet but the computers are down.

May 28 Sitatunga Camp
The WildLife Adventure.com truck is at the camp…Kumuka truck comes in and we look for Damian and Melissa who transfered to the Kumuka in Vic Falls so they could get down to Johannesberg…you’d think we were all long lost friends as our riders let out a squeal and run to hug them.

Rod has contracted with a Safari Tour company to take us into the Delta on Mekoros so Gary from the company stops by to give us details. Gary, originally from New Zealand, lives in Maun and the locals call him: “Geeza.” Mekoros are an ancient way of plying the delta; canoes carved out of tree trunks with a poler that stands in back pulling the canoe forward.

The other riders party in the bar which didn’t close until 2am and the music was so loud you couldn’t sleep…even with ear plugs…I stayed surly for two days. The Delta will offer respite…

Buffalo Fence & Planet Baobab

Posted on by Laughingnomad

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May 27, 2002
We see the 3000km of 1.5 meter high “Buffalo Fence” along side the road on the way to Okavango Delta in Botswana. It’s actually a series of high-tensile steel wire barriers that run through some of Botswana’s wildest terrain. They were first erected in 1954 to segregate wild buffalo herds from domestic free-range cattle and thwart the spread of foot and mouth disease. However, no one has yet proved that the disease is passed from species to species.

The problem is that the fences not only prevent contact between wild and domestic bovine species but they also prevent other wild animals from migrating to water sources along age-old seasonal routes. While Botswana has set aside large areas for wildlife protection, these areas don’t constitute independent ecosystems. As a result, Botswana”s wildebeest population has declined by 99% over the past decade and all remaining buffalo and zebra are stranded north of the fences.

This story is told in detail in the book “Cry of the Kalahari” by Mark and Delia Owens who spent several years in the central Kalahari and reported seeing tens of thousands of migrating Wildebeest as well as herds of zebra, giraffe and other animals stopped short by the Kuke Fence that stretches along the northern boundary of the central Kalahari Game Reserve. Some became entangled in it, while others died of exhaustion searching for a way around it. The remainder were cut off from their seasonal grazing and watering places in the north and succumbed to thirst and starvation.

The last great tragedy occurred during the drought of 1983 in which wildebeest heading for the Okavango waters were barred by the Kuke Fence. They turned east along the fence towards Lake Xau, only to find the lake already dried up. Thousands died as a result.

The upside of the fence is that it keeps cattle out of the Okavango Delta which is essential if the Delta’s wildlife is to survive. However, the new 80 km long Northern Buffalo Fence north of the Delta has opened a vast expanse of wildlife-rich but as yet unprotected territory to cattle ranching. Safari operators wanted the fence set as far north as possible to protect the seasonally flooded Selinda Spillway; prospective cattle ranchers wanted it set as far south as possible, maximizing new grazing land; and the local people didn’t want it at all because they were concerned it would act as a barrier to them as well as to wildlife. The government sided with the ranchers.

We pass a truck accident-the truck had bounced over a 6 foot open ditch dug out right across the road-the accident must have happened at night-and then another truck hit the first truck and turned over…nearby we noticed a speed limit of 90km per hour…

Veterinary Stop. In 1939 Cattle Lung Disease
(pleuropneumonia) that kills up to 50% of infected animals was iradicated. But it resurfaced in 1995 when it was re-introduced across international borders-probably from Namibia-and quickly spread. The government responded by constructing four veterinary fences around the northwestern corner of the country but the disease was not contained and authorities wound up slaughtering 320,000 head of cattle.

We all have to get out and walk with our shoes through a medicated bath while the truck drives through a pool of the same solution.

At camp the black African woman behind the bar, Tops, was fascinated by the computer when I plugged it in to recharge it. To her delight I showed her how to use it and this is what she wrote:

“Tops i really loved Unice by the night we were at Planet Baobab because she taught me how to use the Computer it was on 27 of may the day of monday 2oo2 i was with KB and
GOSA

welcome Planet Baobab first thing you will find Tops with big
smile on her face as she is trying to use this machine!!!!!

hi tops are you playing nicely with this machine and laughing
while you are doing it. no dear whats the use of laughing whiie still learning? now i have to say something about my colics KT
LULU GRACE TWIST JOHN GOMAN BONES YAPS BEAUTY
and ISAAC

I didn’t correct her spelling. Tops and KB played Botswana dance muusic on the cassette player and danced the Wazoo-Wazoo for us-throwing their hips all over the bar room.

Chobe National Park

Posted on by Laughingnomad

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The border crossing from Zambia into Botswana is at the border post of Kazungula. The truck ride on the Kazungula Ferry across the Zambezi River is not much of a hassle. Rod tells us that one year the ferry sank and about 40 people died; we sit silently during the crossing.

The topography becomes almost perfectly flat and we see thousands of acres of sunflower fields and scrub brush far as the eye can see in all directions. To the little town of Kasane to fill up with gas, go to the Bureau de Change, buy camera batteries, and blankets because it is winter here now and the nights will be cold the rest of the way. Stocked up on junk food again in the small market; Botswana has a good trade relationship with South Africa so we see things in the stores here that we haven’t seen since we got to the continent.

Kasane sits amid a shady, riverine woodland at the meeting point of Botswana, Zambia, Namibia and Zimbabwe and the confluence of the Chobe and Zambezi Rivers. It is the administrative center and the gateweay to Chobe National Park so the small town is full of activity. Then we drove down the road to Chobe Resort for the afternoon where we had cold drinks in the bar and some of the girls swam in the ice cold swimming pool.

Chobe National Park
Rod contracted with a Safari company to take us in raised-seat land rovers through the Park about an hour before dark when all the animals will be feeding and watering around the Chobe River. On the way, the driver calls the elephant dung on the highway “chocolate cake.” The driver talks about elephants…eats 250 kg of food a day so he has huge dung. They have 7 sets of teeth so when he has used all his teeth you can tell he is older because you see bark and sticks in the dung.

Elephants are so bad at destroying trees-just because they can, the driver says-and overgrazing-so that the elephant herds have to be culled. Sometimes a couple hundred at a time. They have to make sure they kill all the members of a family, however, or any remaining members will return to get retribution.

Hippos run 40 km an hour and can swim 30 km an hour to find grass…the water monitor (snake) didn’t have a shower because he didn’t know you were coming for a picture, the driver says. About 20 female elephants and their babies are in the water-males always off alone…Southland Giraffe…Impala society-only one male to a herd so these young males will soon have to fight to stay or be kicked out of the herd…Bob says Homo Sapiens are known for not getting along either…everyone laughs. Kudu Antelope have huge antlers on the male…when giraffes drink they spread their front legs which really looks funny…Impalas make a noise like a pig…we see a lioness with large teats so she must have cubs near…we follow her…the African light on the red clay landscape is breathtaking….water buffalo…but the hilarious part of the trip is the driver…look, there is a rare Red Sable, he says as he roars by…we finally get him to stop at the Kudo but when he stops so all we see are bushes…!

Camp at Thebe River Lodge near Kasane
As we drove in we wave to the woman from New York that used to live in Walla Walla and the guy from Seoul that were on the Booze Cruise with us at Victoria Falls-their tour group on the same route. James the camp dog happily greeted us; the camps all have watch dogs that will warn us if strange two or four legged animals enter the camp at night. When I went into the bar for a Fanta (think the whole third world has a monopoly on Fanta), I noticed a black board advertising Bone Marrow Soup so I ordered a small bowl before dinner; was good but was so spicy couldn’t really taste the marrow.

By this time Bob had joined me and while we were there the woman from Walla Walla came in. She had been a school teacher (I had guessed it). Now she has decided she wants to work for a Methodist Aid group in Nairobi-I want to do something in Africa she says-I really like “The Blacks.” The way she said it made me feel very uncomfortable. She kept making references to Bob about finding what he was looking for…finally Bob told her he wasn’t looking for a thing. Maybe she knew more than he did…or maybe it was she that was looking…

Nairobi to Cape Town Overland

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May 5, 2002
We left for the 4000 mile seven week trip in a Mercedes Benz truck overland from Nairobi to Capetown. As Bob suspected there would be, there are 17 kids all under the age of 30 on this truck-very cheeky Aussies and Kiwis and half a dozen ball-busting Britains. Overland trucks are the cheapest way to travel Africa so the trucks are always full of kids-guess we will be content with being the token elders.

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The master of African roads is the truck driver-cars cannot manage the ruts and potholes. The truck can go almost anywhere with its powerful engine and wide tires. James understands the power under his control. We are dumbfounded by his ability to wedge the truck into the smallest path, narrowest driveway, around the sharpest corner! Drivers are extraverted and have tremendous confidence-an almost regal bearing. I read this on my blog to James and he whooped and hollered and jumped up and down…Yes! Yes! That’s me! That’s me! First instruction from Rod: it’s a TRUCK and not a bus! Every time someone calls it a bus we are supposed to buy Rod a drink-I’m the biggest offender. I just laugh.

We are all divided into four groups that rotate daily-cooks helper, dish washing, security and “dog’s-body.” Security has to stay with the truck when are parked in the towns. Dogs-bodies are the go-fers. They fill up the water jugs at the camps and set up the folding seats. They set up the folding table for food preparation and put up George’s tent. (George is the Kenyan cook.) They also periodically sweep out all the dust and mud out from under the seats and the aisle of the truck. Dish washers make up three tubs of water-one soapy, one with disinfectant and one rinse. They set up two plastic pans for hand washing-one with soap and one with disinfectant for rinse. They dry the dishes by swinging them in the air.

George makes a fire on the ground with the charcoal he has purchased along the road and sets a big grate over the top.

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The charcoals much softer than ours…coals are red and coffee-water hot in just a couple minutes. Cooks helpers peel veges and generally do whatever George wants them to do while they try and keep out of his way. George has pretty fixed and definite ideas about how he wants things to go.

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For breakfast we have had eggs all different ways, French Toast, pancakes, dry cereal made with reconstituted dried milk, toast, wieners, bacon, canned spaghetti, beans. Lunch is grated carrots, sliced tomatoes, grated cheese, green or red peppers, sliced meat and bread for sandwiches. I ask Claire if this is always going to be lunch and she says yes, but to shut up and don’t complain because it’s the only fresh veges we get! So I don’t say a word! George usually puts out the leftovers from the night before too. Pineapple or bananas or dessert.

Dinner usually is served with creamed soup first and then African stew with mashed potatoes or rice, steak and baked potatoes, chicken and rice with good spices, spaghetti with interesting sauces…and many more good things like that. We sit on little camp stools to eat. A couple times George has fixed the African staple, maize, for us-a kind of fine white corn meal. You dip your fingers into it and form a little ball with which you then dip into a spicy meat stew and eat. When it is dark and getting colder and we want to sit awhile around the campfire we put a few coals on the ground underneath each folding canvas seat…works nicely.

The truck has padlocked compartments all the way around with doors that fold down. George has the keys on a shoelace that he wears around his neck. I get tired trying 14 keys to find the one that unlocks the compartment where our baggage is so I paint the key with someone’s nail polish. George just laughs.

The truck periodically pulls over for “toilet stops.” We scatter…boys on one side of the truck and girls on the other. On one stop I was one of the last to get off and after walking down a small bank I looked to the left and saw 6-7 shiny white butts all in a row. I yelled to the girls that I wished I had my camera-you can imagine the hullabaloo! Our hands get sprayed with disinfectant before we get back on the truck.

There are two heavy plastic drops on each side in place of windows that are rolled up during the day so we get lots of fresh air and can see out. It also gives us accessibility to people standing around the truck when we are parked at border crossings and supply stops for those who choose to stay on the truck. If everyone gets out we put the drops down because local kids are known to jump up and grab things off the seats. If we are in a camp the drops come down to keep the monkeys and baboons out of the truck.

The other riders on the truck ranging from early twenties to early thirties are bright and sassy. Besides Bob and I there are two other couples, Damian and Melissa from Melbourne Australia and Tim and Belinda from New Zealand-the rest are single-Heather and Fiona are sisters from New Zealand, Nikki from New Zealand but had been working as a nanny in London, Michelle, Claire, Sarah and Lorelle traveling together from England. Adrian is from Australia with a Canadian passport who lives and works in London and Pete is a New Zealander. In Victoria we will pick up Michael from Johannesburg South Africa and lose everyone else except Nikki, Fiona, Heather, Sarah, Michelle, Adrian and us. Heather, who was working as a nanny in London had a friend who knew Mick Jagger”s nanny (hope this is right, Heather!)

Most are already well-traveled-the four girls from England spent a year traveling together after “uni” (university) and Michelle and Nikki have done overland trips before-Nikki amazingly did a 6 month overland trip in the year 2000 on the old “hippie trail” from England to Kathmandu via Iran, Pakistan and the Karakoram highway. Both Michelle and Nikki are gunning for a job in the overland business and will remain in Africa at the end of the trip.

It’s fun listening to the British, Aussie and Kiwi accents but they insist Bob and I are the ones with the accent! I am starved for conversation and want to discuss the linguistic, cultural and political differences among the English speakers but I sense they don’t like it…that maybe they assume I am being critical of them…the arrogant American…little do they know how critical I am of my own popular culture and the foreign policies of my government.

There is a library (big box of tattered paperbacks) ranging from slut novels to the Autobiography of Nelson Mandela on the truck for long travel days. There is a cassette deck with speakers at the front and the back. The smokers have to sit in the back-always Michelle in her funky little hat under which you can barely see her sparkly eyes and Rod the tour leader. At the very front of the truck there are two steps up to a section of four seats on each side where the Brits usually sit facing each other so they can chatter. The rest of the seats face forward. There is a cooler for drinks.

We have lucked out with a really nice group that is very compatible and everyone enjoys each other. Tim from New Zealand says he couldn’t imagine his mom doing an overland trip-makes me feel good. Rod has confiscated the Michael Jackson tape but the rest of the music blaring all day on the truck stereo is ungodly as you might imagine. We would prefer to remain steeped in images of Africa…the sounds of the local dialects in soft voices…he sound of children’s laughter…the look of the bright wide smiles…the sounds of the daily village activity and of the animals in the parks, the sight of the incredible red clay soil reflected in the morning and evening light, the mind blowing brightness of the stars at night…the breathtaking red sun while it is setting down on the Zambezi…we have left home partly in an effort to get away from the abrasiveness of western popular culture…but James says the other riders are young-this is their time to enjoy…

Bob and I don’t sit together…24 hours a day since February is more than enough togetherness. The truck is not full and many of us get two seats to ourselves. In July and August we are told the truck will be filled to capacity-36 people! I can’t even imagine it! It is good to be traveling now.