Jessie Goes….

Crossing borders is my favorite – there is nothing like watching the crossroads of 3rd world life, bureaucracy, ferries, produce, products, businessmen, truckers and the odd little face of a tourist or two toting backpacks and looking out of place. Some scared, some harrassed looking, and some barely noticing that they aren’t in Kansas anymore. There is always ample time to observe these myriad of things as the guantlet of forms and queues are processed and waited on, first on one side, then on the other.

Enterprising vendors make use of the bored masses by offering cold cokes and native trinkets all outrageously priced, and even then, they want the bottle back! Before boarding the ferry, entertainment was provided by a gang of Botswanan men physically threatening a man whom I assumed to be Zambian with throwing him into the river so (apparently) scum like him would get off Botswanan soil. We also got to look at the lines and lines of truckers who would be waiting days if not weeks to cross on the ferry, clearly deciding that the cost of the bribe to get yourself to the to the front of the line was still too high, and waiting a week didn’t much matter.

Zambian visas are now painfully expensive, particularly for Americans and Brits. It used to be that the Visas were $0. But as of Jan 2008 they went to $135. Its reciprocity, but the Zambian government doesn’t seem to realize that this could hurt tourism something fierce, and they also don’t seem to see the ‘I’m never going home once I get in here’ differences between the countries. I heard a rumor that they were going to revisit the Visa pricing issue soon. Probably like the day after I pay for mine.

Getting our vehicle through was the toughest part, it came on a different, later, ferry then we did, and seemed to have may more stops on the way to visiting legitimately than we did. Still, I think, all told, it took about 3 hours. Not terrible.

The Botswanan people are some of the most genuinely friendly and helpful people I’ve met recently.   They have glowing smiles, easy laughs and seem to feel quite at home accepting cultural differences.   There is also a mild reserved-ness which I think comes from not wanting to be at odds with anyone.

Though the current government has made great economic and peacetime strides for the country, and the country itself is considered on its way to success, the population, like a lot of southern africa, is facing disaster.

Approximately 40% of Botswanans have HIV, and the vast majority of the cases in the past have gone untreated.   A cheap anti-retroviral program was instituted in 2003, however the statistics are telling:  in 1990 the average life expectancy for the country was 64.  In 2004 it was 35.    Condoms are now available in places like public toilets and roadmarts, but it is going to have to be a pretty vast change in both cultural stigmas and sexual practices (more sexual freedom for women) before many great strides are made here.

It is appalling to think that so many of the smiling people I’ve met will someday soon fall sick to AIDs.   Its something worth thinking about when considering how lucky we all are!

Okay, onto a less depressing subject.  Still, clearly in Botswana, we had made it to Chobe National Park.   Chobe is known for its population of elephants, which are protected, however, it is has gotten to such a state they are considering culling them.    For me this means we have a great chance of seeing a lot of elephants!

We packed in our camp today first thing, right at dawn. I’ve seen more sunrises in the past week then I have in a combined amount of years. The water lilies were still all shut in the early morning sun as we glided back out of the delta. It was chilly to say the least, and the lilies had the right idea.

We only had a limited day of planned activities, and with the exception of running the bus smack into 2 large guinea fowl at 160kph (they bounced) we were well on our way to actually relaxing at a safari lodge called Planet Baobab by about 1pm. The entire afternoon to do nothing.

Baobabs are monster trees which look like someone ripped them out of the ground, chopped off the puffy leafy part and planted it back upside down with the roots for branches. They live on average 3 or 4 thousand years which explains their enormous size, though in a mans lifetime they don’t change enough for their to be a noticeable difference if a picture were to be taken of the man beside the tree at birth and gasping for his last breath. The tree would look exactly the same. Another baobab fact is that they are nearly always bare… they apparently bloom white flowers at night at one period each year, and if you miss that, or expect them to show during the day, you are out of luck. They are pollinated this way, at night, by fruit bats. Okay, one more fact…they hold about 32,000 gallons of water for themselves in reserve to beat the harsh desert like conditions they deal with on a regular basis. I guess that could explain the size too.

Planet Baobab, as you might expect, has a ton of these monsters, and is the best place we’ve stayed so far, in large mudhuts. They aren’t particularly traditional, I’d suspect, with running water, high ceilings and the like, but I was happy of a day of not too traditional. Katie, my roommate and I looked like little dust bunnies who hadn’t showered in a month, not just a few days, so the hot shower in our hut was particularly becoming! Namibia and Botswana are arid countries and despite the foliage the dusty silty dirt is everywhere and in everything.

The mudhuts themselves are on the dark side, with limited windows, and my guess is that the bugs might be something spectacular in the wet season. The common area however, had a great vibe and great bar/lounge/reading area with african masks and vintage african pictures and memorabilia on the open aired hut walls. Exactly what you’d picture yourself sitting in with your safari hat on drinking afternoon cocktails.

It was an afternoon of relaxing, showers, hanging by the pool and lazing around and an evening of mixed drinks, some Australian beats, and even some dancing by an inspired few.

You might be noticing that my entries are waayyy shorter than usual. Some of you might even be happy about it. 🙂 but seriously, it is a task just getting to an internet connection here, and they are running on tandy 1000s with a 1992 version of aol online, and 10 computers sharing that connection. I’m actually missing the days of Windows Vista (heaven forbid). So anyhow, unless a miracle in modern technology happens, I’m going to keep these short and sweet, as most go into my spiral bound notebook, and I can write at about a tenth of the pace I can type, and, well, I just get bored. Same with the pictures… the several I’ve uploaded have taken about 20 minutes apiece. When I get home I’ll backfill, but for now, 1 or 2 every so often are gonna have ta do ya.

In true safari style camp roused before dawn for a bush walk. Unllike most areas tourist can visit wild animals, you are on foot in Botswana in this area, instead of in a safari vehicle. Lions, elephants and nearly all animals see trucks as part of the scenery, sort of like a tree or termite mound, it is neither hunter or hunted so generally you can get 10 feet away and the animals act like you aren’t even there.

Clearly, not so on foot: you become either prey or predator depending on whose looking at you. The cats will eat you, the elephants and hippos will stomp you, and the zebras gallop away. Its a different feel. Walking through the bush I feel like Wild Kingdom with the twacking of the grasses underfoot, a british voice in my head saying stuff like, “here is the lone elephant, largest of the land animals.”

So, the upside of the walking safari is the physical activity and the mano y mano nature of the journey. The downside is that you can’t really get too close to the animals. Either you don’t want to or they won’t let you. Also 5 hours later, one is REALLY considering the benefits of motorized transportation!

Getting into my mokoro with Kim, a friend I’ve made on the trip, it was the first time so far this trip that I’ve felt “now this is what I’m here for”.  Seated in a reclining position amongst the bags and gear, at first we sat very still – the mokoro was exceedingly thin – a slight movement right or left resulted in a much more exaggerated movement for the boat.   The driver of the boat (or poler) stood at the aft with a long poll and pushed off the bottom of the Okavango riverbed, sending us on our way.

The Okavango is a river that begins in Angola, works its way through Namibia and then deltas into the Kalahari desert in Botswana.  It is the only inland delta in the world, with the entire river eventually dissappearing into the sand.    The waterway we are on is choked with water liles and reeds, but the path is deep and crystal clear.  Its also freezing cold and in stark contrast to the day which is hot and dry.   The reason the river is so clear and pure, according to the locals, is because a)the billions of reeds have a flitering effect on the water, and b)there is almost no agricultural or other industry on the entire length of the river.  Imagining that all rivers must have been like this only 3 or 4 hundred years ago,  I laid back and watched the delta grasses go by, the gentle rocking motion of the our poled ‘motor’ so soothing that Kim passed out a few minutes in, behind me in the boat.

I wasn’t sleeping, but I was pretty comfy cozy too.  Despite numerous warnings everywhere about getting into African waters I ran my hands languidly through the chilly river as we quietly glided upriver, keeping the heat at bay.

We set up camp as the waterway opened, right on the banks, while the native Botswanans with us built a fire.   We struggled to set up our steel poled tents, and years of camping experience with fiberglass bendy polled tents did not come through for me. 🙂

I am happy to be in Africa this night.  The animal noises (there was an elephant right outside our camp), bugs and bellfrogs set the perfect mood music for our groups convivial wine and campfire roasted steaks.  The cards and long tales finally made their appearance.

Driving into Botswana from Namibia is long long and boring.  The landscape is unvaried and by and large hardscrabble desert.   I listened to an entire book on my ipod during the drive, and I’m going to have 10 of these blog entries written in my notebook before I actually get to post them, as all potential internet connections actually don’t work when called upon.   Today we arrived in Maun at a reasonable hotel which had an INTERNET CAFE!  I was so excited.  However, the cafe closed at 4pm, so of course, all safari groups would never get a chance to use it, as everyone gets in around 5 and leaves around 8!  ah well.    Boy this is Africa.  I might have to resort to posting mail too.

The one interesting thing that did happen today was the foot and mouth plague official safety stops.   The official, who wasn’t in a very good mood and didn’t like our tour leader (no surprise there), made us unpack the entire bus and go through the luggage looking for shoes.    Once all shoes were acquired, we were all required to go and walk through a little puddle of foot and mouth disease solution, which was barely there, but then we were allowed to step just where are disease ridden selves had just walked to get to the puddle.    It didn’t seem effective in the slightest!   But it made the official happy.   An exercise in bureaucratic ridiculousness – which given shoddy controls is more than likely spreading the disease as all shoes with or without the disease are trodding around these pathetic container of solution.  My flipflops looked a little queasy this afternoon as a matter of fact.  No, seriously I am worried about them.

Maun, self titled the ‘adventure capital of Botswana’ is an outpost town near the Okavango Delta.   Tomorrow we are headed out into the Delta in our mokoro canoes…. I’d like to say that if you don’t hear from me its because the hippos got me (or foot and mouth disease)… but more likely its just because I can’t text/email/call out of here.    We are going to be camping out in pitch tents for the next couple of nights, which will hopefully be a good time ‘away from it all.’  And I’m also hoping that varied stories of wildlife joining in by the campfire are greatly exaggerated.