The Dunes & Sarus Guest Farm

t5vdleC6v9bjElbi1QdXwg-2006193172914229.gif

June 10, 2002
After a night camping near Sesriam, everyone else is up at 5:00 to go hiking in the Dunes. No coffee and no “breaky” (breakfast). These are the largest Dunes in the world Rod says. I stay in camp by myself and the silence is heaven! The truck returns at noon and we are out of there.

The garbage collectors come around while I sit on a park bench trying to catch up on my journal with my computer. One fellow comes over to look at the computer screen and asks what I am doing. I tell him I am telling my friends back home about Africa. He suddenly leans down closer and looks intently at my screen. Then he wants to know how much the computer cost. He just shook his head and said “very expensive, very expensive” as he walked away leaving me to feel the incredibly deep gulf that was just created between us.

In Swakopmund Rod bought a dark brown sheepskin at a game skin shop which he is wearing around his shoulders. I tell this large man he looks especially intriguing with his stocking cap, dark glasses and bare feet!

The Sarus camp site has a little communal building with kitchen sink and wood stove. Expecting a cold night most of the campers sleep on the floor in the building. Bob and I run Rod out of the “caravan” (little trailer). I note that we call “caravans” trailers and Rod notes that we have gone from “Truck Trash” to “Trailer Trash!” That’s about it, I laughed!

In the evening after dinner Fi and Sarah read my Malawi story on the computer and, laughing, we remember some of the funnier moments of the trip.

Okavango Delta By Makoro

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.

New Words In Lusaka

Otnq3CnZDrMlnlEtEldfpg-2006197135244488.gif

In Australia, New Zealand and South Africa your car “hoots” not honks. Hoot, I tell them, is what an owl does! Rod says Geese “honk” and cars “hoot!” We laugh. In New Zealand Fi says “Rattle Your Dags” means to get you upset-dags referring to the hard little poop balls that stick to the sheep’s wool on his rear end and then “rattle” when he runs. “Tarmac” refers to a blacktop highway and “sunnies” are sunglasses. “Bakkies” are pick-ups. “Robots” are street lights. “Nappies” are diapers. I love learning the distinctions between these new words and phrases and the way the U.S. uses English; helps get a “feel” for the other English language cultures.

Shopping in Lusaka
Spent half a day at an Arizona-Shopping-Mall on the edge of Lusaka. For the first time we get a sense of the extremes in Africa-rich and poor; none of the villagers we have seen so far have any access to these goods in the city…even if they had the money they don�t have any way to get there.

The campers all got their consumer shit and loaded plastic sacks full of drinks and goodies onto the truck. Rod calls it “baby food.” Email here is very expensive-costs me $5 just to check it with no time for replies. There are armed guards all over the mall. On the way out we see a sign reading “Civil Society For Poverty Reduction Youth Project-Coffins Sold Here.” Rod says coffins are one of the biggest up and coming businesses in Africa because of all the deaths due to AIDS.

The day is another long day on the road. I join Janine in the front seat for awhile. She groans about having to get back into the rat race in London when she gets back. She talks about the rudeness and abruptness of everyone and how it will feel after being in Africa…we agree that it must just be a big-city attitude. Popular music is her passion. As with most of the rest she will be looking for work when she returns.

Animal Spotting The Big 5 In The Sarengeti

I love the remnants of the Swahili cadence in Victor’s English.

Giraffe: “It is raining and he is very happy there-he is getting a shower.”

Bob watching elephants: “This makes you feel badly there are zoos.

Topi: lives up to 20 years, gestation 7 months, smell and sight are bad so they stand on termite mounds to see the lions-so no Topi in the crater because there are no termite mounds in the crater.

Bob: “My everlasting memory of Africa will be the Acacia Tree.”

Sarengeti means endless in Swahili…endless horizons, endless silence, endless pleasure for us.

Grand Gazelle: male has long horns and female has short ones; Lilac Breasted Brawler: Black Jackal-scavenger-only kills rats or grasshoppers; Impala has one mate-the male has to fight to get the female.

Best 4-wheeling ever! Hillary really missed a good time when she took the helicopter in!

The park’s vultures: White Headed Vulture; Hyena; Jackal

This is pleasure-we are finally out of the chaos of the city. Writing helps assimilate our experiences so we can move on…

Glossy Starling: Marshall Eagle; Dove; Bee Eater; Francis: I have to study and put it all in my mind. Guinnie Fowl; “Monkeys are not afraid of you they just like to be by their friends.” Velvet Monkey; Water Buck: males have horns, stay close to the water and need green grass. His enemy is the lion.

The Hippos are grazing all night and in the morning they come back and are sleeping in the day, Francis says. They are mating in the water, delivering babies in the water. They kill many people because they know man is not a good animal. They stay in the water 10 minutes without his breathing. Gestation is 8 months and life span is 40 years. Many Hippos together is called a school: Just like children-they must be together. Now is midnight for them. They roam 5 km at night and return to the pond in the morning. The Park has to arrange for keeping the ponds filled with water because otherwise we can get a problem and Hippos have to die when their skin dries out.

Then Bob says to Francis: “There are humans that eat 25kg a day, the gestation is 9 months they eat animals and leave a big mess.” Francis is delighted “very good, very good” he says. Bob and Francis are friends.

Black Smith; Embrella Acacia-big old one; Maasai Giraffe: gestation 15 months; lives 35 years. When they are walking or when they are ambling their legs are together and when they are running their legs are asymetrical. It is illegal to kill this animal, Francis says. Leopard: a loner-if you see two leopards together either they are mating or it is a mother with her cub. After the baby is born the male is takes off. They are afraid of the dew, like a housecat, so they stay in the tree. At night they are coming down and hunting for their food. When they are killing they put the food in the tree and they are there eating for three days. For hunting they have to use their cunning because they run so slow-they have to hide somewhere and wait-like the lion. Cheetah runs 110 km per hour and is fastest land animal. He cannot climb-just walks. Don’t know if we’ll see him today because of the tall grass…

Much sighing-becoming more and more relaxed…like the animals….

Many Ostriches; Francis says the best animal viewing is July-Sept when the grass is brown and everything is dry and animals are gathered around the water holes. However, Bob saw more animals this trip than he did six years ago in August.

Saw part of a pride of male lions out in a field. Francis spotted a lioness on a rock sleeping-she is waiting for the sun; completely relaxed with one foreleg wrapped down around her rock. There are only 3000 lions in the park. Lives 16-20 years; gestation 5 months. Sometimes their teeth break and they can’t eat food and they have to die. They eat 40 kg of meat-can go one week without eating; nocturanl-very active at night. Later we drive up to a vehicle and two lionesses are lying in the shade against the back wheel. Several vehicles arrive and park in a semi-circle around the lions so we can all take pictures.

We are triumphant! We have seen the “Big Five,” Buffalo, Elephant, Leopard, Lion, Rhino.

Sarangeti Spoof: a person says they have spotted an animal and everyone tries to see it. It is not funny.

We stop at a Maasai Village on the way out of the Sarangeti. “They are people-not monkeys,” I say, and refuse to get out of the car. Most everyone else goes inside the village, made of sticks and bushes, to watch the males do their jumping dance and make the Wilderbeast sound while the females try to sell their necklaces. It costs $5 to go into the village-this is not a cultural exchange or an I-Thou experience either one.

Egyptian Geese; The elephants kill and they pile branches on top and wait for three days to make sure he isn’t going anywhere; Toni Eagle; Wilderbeast: they are very stupid, Francis says, if one crosses the river they all have to cross…like sheep. If they have been in the hunting block, when you stop the car they are not sure of their life. They remember those bad people there. If they have always lived outside the hunting block you can go right up to them and they are not afraid of you.

Nairobi to Cape Town Overland

HF0m0NezqDnitkljwNP8lg-2006188104829364.gif

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.

PottyStop.JPG

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.

George.JPG

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.

George2.JPG

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.

Mother Country English

Last night we were walking to the theater and a guy sitting on the sidewalk against a building waiting for the bus after work called out and asked if we were tourists. I turned and smiled and said yes. He said “Americans?” I shook my head yes. He shouted “I could tell by the way you walk!”

I looked back and discovered that the Brits have a whole vocabulary unfamiliar to us that was apparently lost when we crossed the Atlantic or they snuk it in when we weren’t looking! “Potty” means eccentric, the subway is called the tube, a house is “in” the street not on the street and they go “to hospital” not “to the hospital.” A dish towel is a “tea towel.” Food “to go” is “take away” but then they use “take away” in New York too. (That’s another whole vocabulary.) “Bugger off” means go away. A “robot” is a traffic light and the trunk of a car is a “boot.” Actually neither word, “trunk” nor “boot” makes any sense to me. A diaper is a “nappy,” a clothes pin is a “peg.” “Pants” refers to underpants or panties. The correct term for “pants” in England is “trousers.” New Zealanders use “togs” to mean a swimsuit but the English use it to refer to any clothing. Pegs, (pronounced “pigs”) means clothespins. A “powerpoint” is a plug-in or socket. To us in the U.S. it means a microsoft application. Don’t know about England but if you are in Scotland don’t tell someone to “scoot over.” The “scoots” means you have the “runs.” Don’t call it a “fanny pack” when you’re in the UK, Australia, or NZ. That word does not mean “tuckus” there. Instead Aussies laugh at the American tourists wearing “bum bags.”

And then other things that seemed odd to us at first look…yogurt was brought around to sell to patrons at the theater during intermission, (actually not a bad idea). BBC reported on the curling gold medal every time we turned on the TV-very big deal over here…I had never heard of curling.

I watched the Olympics closing ceremony on TV while Bob went to Piccadily Square to get tickets for a play and buy a eurail ticket which is another long story entirely. In the meantime, we were entertained by “Blood Brothers” about twins who had been separated at birth by adoption to poor and and rich families respectively….theme being class differences of course. We are greedy…going to another play tonight; half price on same day. We’ll see what is available.

Oddest thing I’ve seen is Black guy with half his head front to back in a natural and the other half in dreads…a split identity?

I want fish and chips one more time before we leave London for Paris! In pubs we found out the hard way that you have to go up to the bar to order-wouldn’t come wait on you if you sat there all day! Foot long wonderful breaded and deep fried but juicy piece of fish more sitting atop a pile of french fries (chips in England) and sometimes with a cup of peas dumped on top of it all or can just order peas which are called “mash.” Usually served in a stiff piece of paper twisted to make a funnel-like carrier.