“I’m Not Japanese Anymore”
she said, and we dissolved into gales of giggles. We struggled to regain control over ourselves. She was the Japanese ambassador’s wife, my dear friend, and we would hide out and have coffee together whenever our busy schedules would allow. We always sought out the quietest time of day, the most remote tables, so we could have complete and utter privacy as we shared our week, our worries about our kids, our lives.
Our topic was a recurring one in our conversations – that once you have left your native country and lived elsewhere, you aren’t the same anymore. Your eyes change, and you see things differently, your taste buds change and the unfamiliar becomes familiar. Unacceptable color combinations become acceptable, the cacaphonous and discordant become music to your ears. Once you have lived in a foreign country, you can never be truly the person you were before you left.
“I’m not so patient with ceremony any more,” she continued, and we dissolved into laugher again, because her life was full of endless ceremonial events. The great blessing in all this for both of us, is that we are both married to men who are at the same time traditional and ceremonial, and secret iconoclasts. Every now and then we could even get together, all four of us, and share an evening of relaxation and laughter, mostly laughing at ourselves and the difference between how others perceived us, and how we really are.
We treasure these friends. They are the kind that could call us late in the day and say “We are unexpectedly free tonight – can you meet us?” and if there was any way we could, we would. They were our playmates; when we were together we were free to be totally ourselves.
Sometimes in life we are handed roles to play, and if we are honorable people, we play them as best we can. The secret is to keep a very clear idea of where the role ends and we begin. We show respect where respect is due, we carry out the rituals that give richness and tradition to our lives, and heritage to our children.
But glory and honors are transient. Roles and job titles come and go. Good friends and those who keep your worst secrets – they are worth more than gold and diamonds.
The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency, and more
If you enjoyed the trip through Botswana and would like to read more about Botswana, if you think you might go there someday, or if you think you might never go there – you need to read a wonderful series of books by Alexander McCall Smith.
The first book is The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency. You meet the main character, and heroine, Mma Precious Ramotswe, the founder and owner of the only women’s detective agency in Botswana, and her assistant, Mma Grace Makutsi (who can’t resist a handsome pair of shoes), and the love of her Mma Ramotswe’s life, Mr. J. L. B. Matekone. Mma Ramotswe describes herself as “a woman of traditional build” and drives a very old, small white truck. She has a way of looking at things differently – and she solves her mysteries in ways you or I wouldn’t think of.
The books are short, and deceptively simple. They are “feel good” books, giving you smiles and warming your heart as you read. At the same time, you find yourself thinking back to these books, some of the issues, some of the characters, some of the plots – long after you have finished the book. That’s a sign of a good read!
As different as the thinking and culture is, the books are so full of grace and good humor and tolerance and forgiveness that when the book finishes, you can hardly wait to start the next one. You feel like Precious is your sister, a very smart sister, not without her flaws, but a woman to be respected, a woman of good character and who can make tough decisions.
She also makes mistakes, and has to live with the consequences. You will find the books addictive. The entire series is:
The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency
Tears of the Giraffe
Morality for Beautiful Girls
The Kalahari Typing School for Men
The Full Cupboard of Life
In the Company of Cheerful Ladies
Blue Shoes and Happiness
Jeffrey Deaver’s mysteries, on the other hand, are intricate and woven through with arcane information, but you always learn something. He has a series about a quadriplegic, Lincoln Rymes, a criminologist, who solves cases in a very Sherlock Holmes kind of way, by thinking about the evidence and the patterns that it presents. He has a girlfriend, Amelia, who is a policewoman, and works with him on many of the cases. The books that have these two characters are:
The Bone Collector
The Coffin Dancer
The Empty Chair
The Stone Monkey
The Vanished Man
The Twelfth Card
Last – and least, for The Devil Wears Prada crowd is Linda Fairstein, who almost always has a book on the New York Times best seller list. Her heroine is Manhattan sex-crimes prosecutor (District Attorney) Alexandra Cooper, whose dad made a fortune on an artificial heart device, allowing her to work in the public service sector and still wear fabulous clothes, have weekly manicures and hair stylings at the best salons and eat at the coolest restaurants in town, and she tells you all about them.
They make great airplane reading for the trendy. The plots are formulaic – an astounding, mysterious crime is committed, Alexandra gets involved, along with her detective side-kicks, the criminal involved somehow focuses on Alexandra and she has to spend the night at her friends’ houses. You don’t read these mysteries for the astounding plots, you read them because they are funny and superficial and a quick read that doesn’t require much thinking.
Happy reading!
The Hemingway Safari: The Kalihari (Part 10)
The next morning, we take it easy, late breakfast, get all packed up and are ready for our short trip to the airstrip. Our pilot is Collin McAlister, again, which we find delightful. And this time, I don’t even feel the least bit claustrophobic. I LIKE flying this way, where you stow your own bag, you get on, fly, get off, grab your bag – it is SO efficient!
This flight is totally different from the last one, in that we go from the lushness of the Okavango Delta into the dry Kalihari. Now the Kalihari airstrip seems remote enough when we see Godfrey there to meet us, but we still have a four hour drive in front of us to the Deception Valley camp site. Godfrey has put the canvas top over the wagon which protects us from the hottest part of the sun, but still we can see out.
Godrey points out to us the tiny melons growing along the side of the road, and says that the lions eat them for water, as there is no source of water in the middle of the desert. There were some pumps, but there was an earthquake and the pipes broke. Later, on one of our game drives, we see a crew out in the middle of way-far-out-nowhere, and they are repairing the pipes so that one day the water holes will function again. We also see a tiny green desert hibiscus flower.
We have never seen such a bleak landscape. It is hard to believe that this land can support any life at all, but . . . Godfrey shows us wonders. One of the first is an entire herd of gigantic male kudus, very large deer-like animals with beautiful twisted antlers. They can bound over very high fences, and make it look easy. We saw this, on the long drive to our camp site, the fences were over 7 feet high, and these huge antelope sailed over at a gallop. It takes our breath away.
We also saw ostrich, many of them, male and female, and they always run away when we get close. When they run, they really bounce from side to side, and look very comical, like ballerinas running off-stage.
We have to stop several times to go through gates into the Kalihari game reserve. We want to see the lions, the lions of the Kalihari, the great, very wild lions we have heard about. We don’t see any on the four hour ride to our camp, but we have seen so much that it hardly matters. And we are grateful to sink into our familiar beds in our familiar tents, to have a hot shower, and a rest before the afternoon game drive.
As we come into camp, John and Richard are leaving in the big truck, to go get water. We use water very sparingly, but supporting life out on the desert means you have to bring in everything. John and Richard will drive a couple hours to the water station, will fill and drive back. The water is a little red. We don’t drink it, and we keep our mouths shut when we shower.
During our late afternoon game drive, we see a Cape Fox running through a herd of steinbok, and just as the light is failing, Godfrey spots a cheetah walking through the grass a few hundred yards away. We watch until darkness falls and we can’t see it any longer.
By this time, our ears have adjusted and we can understand Godfrey almost perfectly. When he says the steinbok dig for “tubas”, we know it is not musical instruments, but tubers. When he says “maybe he feign-ed illness, I don know”, we understand that maybe Paul was sick and maybe he wasn’t. We know that the “red boo boo shirke” is the red breasted shrike. We have come to admire and respect Godfrey immensely. He has so much knowledge of the animals and birds and trees and flowers, and also he manages the staff so well, keeps them operating smoothly under very extreme conditions AND keeps all the equipment well maintained.
We admire his driving ability. You would have to see the roads we are on to understand, the narrow, one lane, unpaved roads. Sometimes rocky, mostly sandy and always rutted and full of holes. In the Kalihari, there is the additional challenge of aardvark holes. The aardvark loves digging in the roads, as the roads are clear of brush. But aardvarks dig HUGE holes.
Back in camp, the lanterns are glowing in front of our tents, Dorcas meets us with hot washcloths, and oh, glory, there is a huge full moon rising over our camp. Here we are in the Kalihari desert, and we never want to leave.
I DO miss the sound of the elephants and hippos, and I don’t hear any lions. Even the birds are quieter here, no owls. It is very, very quiet. And then, there is that huge, full moon. We are in heaven. For dinner that night, Sky serves chicken in peanut sauce, and oh, it is delicious. The next morning when we stop for mid-morning tea and coffee, we find he has made sandwiches with the leftovers, and we are delighted. On this morning’s game run we see mongoose, an aardwolf, and a bat-eared fox. Four days in the Kalihari, and where are the lions?
We take a full day game drive to far away places. We see a solitary giraffe, and wonder how on earth he survives? He is very old, you can tell by his very dark color, Godfrey tells us. We set up for lunch under a huge tree. Godfrey looks up, and while we don’t see a leopard, we know a leopard has been there, as there is a dessicated springbok carcass high in the tree, where the leopard left it.
We get to see the springbok springing, which is a lot like the pronking of the impala, and we see a red haartebeast, and a brown hyena, all very rare, but still, no lions. We do see lion poop, Godfrey tells us we know it is lion poop because it has fur in it.
On our way back to the camp, at the end of a long day, we have the first, and only, flat tire of our trip, and the cause is a thorn. Not just any old thorn, this thorn is as thick and strong as an iron spike. It is astonishing how fast Godfrey and Paul change the tire. The tires are big, thick, sturdy tires, and we are amazed that this is the first and only one we have had. And at the same time, we haven’t seen anyone else for hours. If we didn’t have a spare, or if we lost a tire AND a second tire, we would be very very isolated out here in the middle of the desert. It is a soboring thought. The kind of thought you don’t think before you make a trip like this or you might not make the trip at all! π
We are back in camp this last night of our journey about 5, early for us, but we have been out all day, and we have to be packed to leave the next morning BY seven, in order to make it to the airstrip for our pickup.
Godfrey prides himself on being reliable, and says if you get a bad reputation for not being on time the bush pilots can refuse to do your pick ups. Not only does he deliver people promptly, but he always has tea/coffee/sodas and sandwiches available to offer to the pilots, and from talking with Collin, we know that this is exceptional and remarkable. But Godfrey is a very unusual person, and we have watched him now for two weeks, and learned that a lot of his success comes from taking his time with people, talking with them, building relationships and consensus. We kid him that one day he will probably be president of Botswana, but Godfrey says he will be happy to be president of the Tour Guide association.
The Hemingway Safari: Moremi & Nxabexa (Part 8)
On the next morning’s game run, we see TWO cheetas, and oh my, are they lovely. They pose for us, get up and walk around for us. Well, not really for us, but as if we aren’t there, which is what we really like. We watch as long as we can, and then go watch the hippos.
For lunch, Sky has fixed vegetable crepes. Now is this living, or what? That afternoon, we go to the other side of that rickety bridge to game hunt. As we near the Gametrackers lodge, we see two little boys walking along. They stop Godfrey and ask “have you seen lions?” These guys DONβT want to see lions, they are afraid of the lions. Godfrey assures them we haven’t seen anything between them and the village. They are barefoot, and I hope they can run really fast if they see the lion.
When we return, we have a guest for dinner, Natalie, who is taking over the camp site with her crew on the next day, for another touring group. It is fun having a fresh face, and fresh stories to hear around the dinner table. Sky has fixed roast beef with fried rice, a green salad and pears poached in port!
Early the next morning, Godfrey hands us vouchers for our flights and for our stay at Nxebega Lodge. We drive over the rickety bridge one last time (I’m praying my way over this bridge every time we cross) and leave Moremi, heading toward an air strip. We get there a few minutes early, and watch our little plane arrive, with Collin, our pilot. First he shows us on a map where we will be flying, and goes over a few safety rules. We stow our bags and climb in – it is a Cessna 210 and only seats four comfortably, although two more could crowd into the very back.
Collin is one of the happiest people I have ever met – he has a sandwich and soda which Godfrey has offered him, and then we take off. This is the part of the trip I have dreaded, the flight in the small plane, but Collin McAlister is very confidence inspiring. He is small and lean, and one of those people we have met, one of many, who loves Africa and loves what he is doing. Mostly, his air service is like a taxi, taking eco-tourists from remote airstrip to remote airstrip. I’m not at all worried about his competence, but I DO find myself feeling a little claustrophobic once we get in the air. I shut my eyes, lean back, pray for a calm spirit, and within minutes, all is well.
I really love taking photos of the changing landscape. In a mere 45 minutes, we see Nxebexa spelled out in sandbags, and we land. Pick up our bags, say goodbye to Collin and meet Tsabo, who is waiting with the jeep to pick us up and take us to the lodge. At the lodge, we are met with hot washcloths, a refreshing big glass of guava juice, and a warm welcome.
Steve, the manager, takes us to our cabins, we drop our bags and come back for lunch, which, once again, has been held late for us. At this point, however, we understand how very gracious this is, as lunch is most often served at 11:30 and tea at 3 or 3:30, so when they hold lunch late for us, it puts the staff behind on setting up for tea.
Lunch includes pizza! It is breakfast food and lunch food, and there is both a buffet AND they are asking us what we would like from the kitchen. There is so much good stuff on the buffet, pizza, good vegetables, salads, etc, and we are just fine without special ordering anything.
Every now and then, you can look at life and see a pivotal moment. Our time at Nxebega was pivotal on our journey. Until now, we are just awed by the total experience. At Nxebega, we begin to understand more clearly that something unusual is happening in our lives. That “x” after the “n” in Nxebega is actually not an “x” as we say it in English, but a glottal stop. Most English speakers actually pronounce it Na’ah-beh-ha.
As AH and I sit down to eat our lunch, Anne comes by to chat with us, hospitably, as is the custom in these very small, intimate lodges. We ask her to join us, and have a 15 minute conversation. We learned a lot in that 15 minutes. Anne had a grant to study the impact of high end/eco tourism on the environment, and has been comparing that impact in Nepal, Antarctica and Botswana. You can see by her interactions with Steve, the manager, and the staff, that she has fallen totally in love with Botswana, and she has misgivings about eco-tourism.
Botswana’s focus on high end tourism, protecting the game to attract tourists and providing luxurious surroundings to cosset them as opposed to the Kenya model, going for the groups and high volume travel, is enlightened, but Anne has some reservations about the impact on the Botswanan people. For example, she says, none of the tourists take the time to learn even a few words in Setswana. They address all the help in English.
Just the night before, AH had asked Godfrey for a few words, and, thank God, wrote them down. He has even used them – saying hello and thank you in Setswana, but now I try really hard to learn them, too, and feel really really really bad that I haven’t. Other places we go, we speak the languages, or at least a few phrases. How could we have been so rude? Listening to Anne is fascinating.
Steve, the manager of the lodge joins us too (this is one of the amazing things about the hospitality in Botswana, this kind of personal time and attention) and we learn SO much that puts our experiences in perspective. One of the neatest things of all is that almost every time we ask the question “How did you get here?” we got an answer that knocked our socks off. When I asked Steve how he got there, he laughed and said “I fought and clawed my way to be here!” Later, when we had another opportunity to chat, we learned that he has worked in many places around the world, born in South Africa, but loves Botswana and wants to be a part of it’s future. And this is what we are beginning to learn, from Godfrey and his family, from Steve, and Ashleigh, and Anne, from the kitchen workers, from the game trackers, from the gate keepers and the soldiers – they love Botswana, and they believe in the future of Botswana, and will fight and work their bottoms off to be a part of what they believe, with all their hearts, will be Botswana’s future success.
What we didn’t know, until just minutes later, was that this was Anne’s last day. As we were exploring Nxebega, we heard singing, and when we found it, at the entrance to the lodge, we found Anne being seranaded by the Nxebega staff, singing they love her and will miss her. Anne was sitting on the jeep waiting to take her to the air strip, and sobbing. As we watched the very heartfelt farewells, we believed with all our hearts that Anne is another one of the true believers, who will be back to do her part to ensure that Botswana has a positive future.
Physically, let me tell you what Nxebega looks like. It is stunning. It looks a lot like the Florida Everglades, it is swampy and marshy and full of life. In the middle of a hot and arid country, a river flows great volumes until it just disappears. Most rivers run into the ocean; this river flows into a desert and evaporates.
We were visiting at the end of the rainy season, when it is all greatly green and watery, and it is nothing short of stunningly beautiful. Think palm trees and palmettos, think high grasses and lots and lots of wildlife. Herds of elephants, giraffe, baboons, leopards, cheetahs, lions, and oh, that is just the beginning. The area is really known for it’s beautiful birds!
We have a tent with a wooden floor, covered with coir carpeting. To get into the bath area, which is open to the out of doors, you have to unzip the two zippers of the inner flap and the two zippers of the outer flap. If you don’t keep these zipped, you have flies, or snakes or . . . baboons! You might have something else, thirsty or hungry! So you very conscientiously zip zip zip zip every time you need to go into the toilet/shower/sink/ dressing room area.
They have a generator, like at Savute, it is buried and soundproofed with sandbags, so that you can’t hear it. The generator comes on at 5 in the morning and goes off at 11:00 at night. Your bedside lights are run off batteries, so you CAN use them after 11, but you run down the batteries if you do. Besides, we are so exhausted every day that it is lights out for us by 9:30 or 10:00 every night. We have a terrace on our tent, looking out over the swamp. And a beautiful shower, Nxebega is SO clean. No insects in our tent, not a smudge. Lots of great magazines to read, and materials about Botswana, South Africa and Namibia. There is even a very good gift shop, with lots of fun things.
While we are picking up a few things, we talk more with Steve and Ashleigh about eco-tourism, about the politics in an emerging country, and about the difficulty of maintaining a resource intensive luxurious bush lodge way out in the middle of nowhere. All supplies have to be brought in from Maun, a safari jumping off place. Much of the produce is brought into Maun from South Africa. They never know for sure what they will get or not get, so their menu planning has to be flexible, and they have to be able to fix a lot of things themselves. The employees often come from far away, and they live right at the lodge, and go into Maun, or home only every now and then.
Keeping trained employees is a constant concern. One time, Steve, the manager, was going into Maun, 6 hours away, to pick up supplies and had a breakdown with his truck. As it was just a quick go-into-Maun, pick-things-up-and-come-back kind of trip, he didn’t even grab a water bottle on his way out, and ended up passing out from dehydration along the side of the road. Meanwhile, people in Maun had seen a truck a lot like his, and so everyone thought he really was in Maun. By the time someone passed him on the road and got him to a hospital, he was nearly dead. Now, he never goes anywhere without a water bottle! And a radio!
There is no electric fence around Nxebega to keep the animals out, and we are told that sometimes the game trackers go out looking and looking for leopard, and while they are out, a pair of leopards will walk right through the camp. One day recently, a family of monkeys were playing around the swimming pool and a baby monkey fell in. The monkeys were screeching and screaming and they can’t swim, so the baby was just drowning, and Steve fished it out with the skimmer.
Ashleigh, the assistant manager, says they have to keep the menus flexible. They have a two week revolving menu, but she likes to find new recipes to try so that the staff doesn’t get bored and stale. I have four of her recipes; the food at Nxebega was knock-your-socks off good! We went out for a game drive with our guide, Sami, who looked and sounded like a teacher, if teachers looked like Morgan Freeman (American actor).
We had a great time, At sundown, we stopped for drinks – and to watch the giraffes gracefully crossing the setting sun. Later our guard picks us up for dinner and we gather in the lounge, discussing the day, your game drives, etc. with the other guests.
There is a man from South Africa, with his three very lovely college-age daughters, and a South African couple, us, the Italians . . . and that’s it! Nine people. They make drinks or serve wine, and they have big servers full of hot mixed nuts. Then, dinner is served and all go into the dining room where one long table is set with candles. Dinner the first night was parsnip soup, beef sassouie (sort of stew) polenta, grilled peppers and for dessert, a walnut baklava with ginger ice cream. By the end of the ginger ice cream (total WOW) we just want to fall into our beds.
We are handed our wool covered hot water bottles on our way out. In the middle of the night, I wake up and I need to use the toilet, but I can’t find my flashlight. I’m not desperate, but I am a little scared, and I know that AH will wake up eventually, which he does, and when he goes into the bathroom (zip zip zip zip), I go too, but when he leaves he takes the light with him! I do NOT want to be alone in the bathroom with no light! It is very very dark, there is no ambient light in the sky. So I make him come back in, I finish and then zip zip zip zip, back to bed.
Kuwait Times: Today’s Hero Nameless
The Kuwait Times for today (Sunday 17 September 2006) reveals “the Interior Ministry has decided to recall one of it’s airplanes security men in Jeddah, to question him regarding a complaint by a Member of Parliament.
“A security source informed Al Rai Al Aam that an MP complained against one member of it’s airplane’s security because he ill-treated his brother while entering the plane in Jeddah and (emphasis mine) DID NOT CARE THAT HIS BROTHER IS AN MP.)”
At issue is whether or not a person is immune from having a bag searched if he/she is related to an MP.
The security source is quoted as saying that “even if the MP is exempt from checks due to immunity, it does not apply to his family and relatives. He added the security man’s request was justified, as doing his duty.”
Wooo Hoooo for people with the guts to do the job they were hired to do. Big WOOO HOOOO to the security man who insisted on inspecting, and his superior who backed him up; today’s Hero(es) of the Day. BOOOOOO to those who think they are too important to follow the rules that are in place to protect us all, not just in Kuwait, or Saudi Arabia, but wherever we are in the world.
Chicken Nuggets and Big Macs
Brava, Chicken Nuggets, you have taken what was apparently meant to be an insult, and turned it into a badge of honor. And well you should.
Kuwaiti has been a major trading crossroad for centuries. It would follow that there has been a lot of mixing, as traders pass through, people travel to foreign lands, historically, as well as now. As genetic testing becomes more acceptable, we are all bound to discover that we are much more mixed, and much more alike, than we ever knew. And, there are bound to be surprises, as men and women donβt always fertilize within acceptable societal boundaries.
When you walk around, you see Kuwaitis with the faces of India, Iran, Iraq, Africa, even possibly faces from the earliest adventures of Alexander the Greek. This is a good thing, the intermingling of cultures and bloodlines build strength, resilience and flexibility.
There is a wonderful book you will enjoy reading –
-
Third Culture Kids
by David C. Pollock and Ruth E. Van Reken. While the focus is on young people raised outside their own culture – diplomat kids, oil kids, missionary kids, international business kids – the findings apply to all those who learn to function in more than one culture. You learn that feeling alien and weird is NORMAL for TCKβs during adolescence, and well into their 20βs and even their 30βs.
At some point, however, you realize that every culture you understand, every additional language you master, every new experience brings a whole new tool chest to your life, new perspectives and additional ways of thinking through life problems.
You, dear ones, are the hope of tomorrow. You are international citizens, having a larger world view because of your mixed upbringing. You have MORE THAN double the advantages (culture 1 + culture 2) you have the additional advantage of the (C1xC2) blend. (Hearing strains of βWe are Nuggets; hear us roar in numbers too big to ignore . . !β)
. . . . So. . . if you are (golden, delicious, juicy) little chicken nuggets, what are the men of mixed Kuwaiti and western heritage – Big Macs?? Burger Kings?? (cracking myself up)
AIDS in Kuwait
In yesterday’s Kuwait Times is a letter to the editor from a young medical student who had done training in the Kuwait infectious disease hospital. He writes that the hospital is not to tell ANYONE a patient has HIV, not even the spouse. The spouse is only told when the patient dies. The cause of death on the death certificate is never “AIDS”. When asked, the doctor in charge said “in a Muslim country having AIDS will damage the person’s reputation, and we just can’t have that,” adding that it was a sensitive issue, and the best way to deal with it was denial.
The writer goes on to say that it was not just this doctor’s policy, but the policy of the entire hospital. It goes on to say that legislation was proposed to ensure that before marriage, blood tests would be taken to insure they are clear of infectious diseases, but this legislation was shot down by more fundamentally religious members of Parliament.
My Saudi Arabian women friends once told me that a Muslim could never say a bad thing about another Muslim except in two cases – one case is if you are asked about a person’s suitability for marriage, and the second is about a person’s suitablility for a business partnership, and in these cases you must speak frankly. Isn’t having a family member with an infectious blood disease one of those cases? Or a proposed husband?
Wouldn’t you want to know if your proposed husband had a serious infectious disease? Or your current husband/wife? Aren’t there precautions that need to be taken as far as exposure to blood of HIV/AIDs infected persons? Aren’t family members, firefighters and traffic police running a risk with accident victims?
The Hemingway Safari: Entering Botswana (Part Three)
Leaving the Victoria Falls Hotel, we did an official tour of the Falls, with an Afro Ventures guide, Aaron. We got him to tell stories about nightmare trips he had been on, with nightmare tourists. The worst, funniest, was a man who was truly not fit to be on safari, had some serious health challenges, and made the group stop all the time to accomodate his needs. Then, after searching and searching for leopard, the group found one and sat enthralled, watching. At which point the very difficult man said loudly “aach, it’s just a leopard, you can see them in the zoo” and slammed a door and the leopard ran away
After the tour of the Falls, Aaron drives us in a van toward Kasane, where we will pick up our official vehicle – we are leaving Zimbabwe and going into Botswana. The highway is two lane, and paved, and we asked Godfrey if we would ever see a road like this again, and he laughed and said yes, that we would have a few miles of good road at one point in Botswana, but only maybe ten miles in the next 14 days.
Not an hour out of Victoria Falls, the van slows and we take we sight a small aircraft crashed by the side of the road. Godfrey tells us it happens all the time, the private plane operators don’t allow themselves enough fuel and then have to try to land on the highways. This one had two survivors, but there are armed guards on the plane to protect it from human scavengers.
The border crossing is a piece of cake. We walk in, Godfrey takes us to a lady he knows who stamps our passports and wishes us a great trip. Meanwhile, we recognize another group from Vic Falls, still in line. Travelling with Godfrey is a lot like travelling in the Arab world, he stops and visits with people, brings them little things, gives them a coca cola, etc. It seems to take a little more time. . . until we zip right through customs while others stand and wait.
The first thing I notice in Botswana is the womensβ hair. From the woman at the custom’s office straight through Botswana, and later South Africa, you see the most beautiful, elaborate tiny braids. These rows aren’t like the ones that were the rage in the U.S., these are tiny, tiny, and close to the head, and in lovely patterns. And people are so friendly, so polite. People are genuinely cordial.
Just across the border, near Kazungula, we have to stop and go through a shoe bath to prevent the spread of hoof and mouth disease. As we talk with Godfrey, we discover he was in the US in the snow storm, and when he saw a woman in trouble, he told her to get out of the car that he would help her, and she thought at first he was trying to carjack her car. As he got the car out of the drift, she said “where are you from???” and he told her. Well, how many people know where Botswana is? She thanked him, and then told him he had to be careful about being helpful in the United States.
Godfrey is exotic. Different. It takes a while for our ears to adjust to his speech, because while he is speaking English, some of it is British English and some of it just lilts differently than our ears are used to. Godfrey is very very tall and thin, and has eyelashes that you might think were artificial, they are so long and curly. He points out a bird, one we have noticed many times, and he calls it the Lilac buubuu rolla. Later we find it in a guide book, and it is the Lilac Breasted Roller.
We stop in Kasane, where Godfrey tells us we can exchange money, and we decide to just change $100, and change more when we need it. Big mistake, or potentially so . . . we never had another opportunity to change money! Fortunately, all currencies are acceptable as tips, so we ended up just tipping in dollars. Kasane is a one main street town, but full of activity, little shacks as markets, some stores. Even an internet cafe, but it was the only time I saw one. We didn’t know that Kasane was the last “major” town we would see.
We drive on to Mowana, the lodge where former President and Hilary Clinton stayed when they were in Botswana, where we say goodbye to Aaron, who is heading back to Vic Falls, and we pick up our own vehicle. AfroVentures designed this themselves; it is on the bed of a large Toyota 4-wheel drive truck, they rebuilt and redesigned it so it has good, comfy seats with good springs (this becomes very important once we hit the single lane roads of clay, dirt and/or sand) and a frame around it so that you can leave it open totally, or put on a canvas fitted top and canvas sides. It also had a good sized drinks refrigerator that worked so well that sometimes our water froze.
Attached in the back was a luggage carrier trailer, but since it was just the three of us there were times we said “forget the carrier” and we just took our luggage in the truck with us. At Mowana we had lunch sitting on the deck around the pool, and listned to the Simpson Brothers play on wooden xylophones, a very Caribbean sound. Lunch at this very elegant lodge was again a buffet, and again, the buffet included fish curry! All food and drinks on this tour are covered, so we know we could look like elephants by the end of the trip if we gorge.
Godfrey tells us how when the Clintons were there, in 1998, the whole lodge was empty except for them and their security people. They even used their own guides. What astonishes us, as we are eating and looking around the lodge, is the huge number of Americans we are seeing. Normally when we travel, we see a lot of Europeans, but in Victoria Falls and in Botswana, we are seeing almost exclusively Americans.
There is a good looking big boat down at the pier and we head for that, but then Godfrey takes us to a side pier and our boat, a boat just for us! There is a guide on board, and Godfrey will go ahead and drive to our camp site, while we go by boat. This boat is like the jet boat of the other night, except that instead of seats in the boat, it has a flat deck with a table and four chairs at the table. And that is how we travel on the Chobe river, my friends, floating down the river.
We came to see the animals, but we had no idea how thrilling the birds would be. As we depart Mowana, we are accompanied by two swallows who fly around us, dipping and circling, and they stay with us a few kilomenters before turning back. Our guide is pointing out Malachite kingfishers, and Carmine Bee Eaters, and oh my, thousands of the Malachite kingfishers nesting along the shore.
We are shooting film like crazy, even knowing that the magic of this boat ride can’t be captured. Best of all, for me, is the look on my husbandβs face. He is SOOO into this, he is having a great time. Truly, this is a dream come true.
The Chobe river is very wide and very flat. It is winter in the southern hemisphere, and just past the rainy season, so the waters are still high. We see lots of elephants wading, feasting on the green grasses, herds of water buffalo, and then, near to the end of our river tour, we are able to sit and watch a herd of elephants crossing from one side to a grassy patch. The elephants go in groups of 10 – 15, while others are waiting on the other side, encouraging, and others are left behind, gathering their courage.
Once they get to where they have to swim, their trunks go up in the air to breathe. Watching elephants swim is a thrill. But there is a baby elephant, struggling hard to keep up, and about half way across, he panics and swims back to shore. On shore, another small elephant is the first to greet him, stroking him with his trunk and standing close. Other elephants gather around, stroking the little one and very visibly comforting him. Shortly thereafter, the last group starts across, including the baby. The matriarch, the oldest (or toughest) female elephant is the last to go, and she gently nudges a few of the more reluctant ones into the water.
We all love being able to stay still, and watch these things happening. Godfrey is waiting on the beach where our boat pulls up, and we tell him about what we have just seen. He tells us that baby elephants are the most vulnerable, and that the elephants treasure them and take good care of them. He said that often the baby elephants don’t make it across, and their carcasses end up providing food for crocodiles, that the lions also prey on the baby elephants, and that recently lions actually brought down a big elephant near Vic Falls. Several lions grabbed the trunk, another chomped the trunk shut and suffocated the elephant. It took about 20 lions to bring the elephant down; something most people hadn’t seen before.
Godfrey takes us on an evening game drive, and as the sun is setting, it sets behind giraffes, looking at us curiously. We love giraffes. They are so graceful, and so elegant, and the look in their eyes is so gentle and curious. We watch them drink. They are wary of us, but not particularly concerned. Once they determine we are not a threat, they mostly ignore us. The young ones are more comical; they show the most interest and curiousity as to who we are and why we are there.
We watch elephants feed, we visit herds of impala, kudu, and see families of baboons. We see lions feasting on a dead water buffalo, and jackals, hyenas and vultures waiting for their turn. Godfrey knows so much. He really loves his job, being able to spend so much time observing the animals, and he loves the beauty of the natural world. He tells us about seeds that need to go THROUGH birds or animals in order for the tough outer seed to be taken off so that the seed can implant in the ground, surrounded by appropriate fertilizer. Some need to go through fires. Lions have very acid digestive systems and can eat bacteria without harm. And this is just the first day.
Finally, we drive back to camp. As we drive in, it is deep dusk, and we can see the tents, with kerosene lanterns in front. It is a beautiful sight. We can see the dining tent, all set up with a book case full of books, with several different games and cards available, and a table set for four. The entire camping staff is there to greet us – seven people to support the needs of three. It’s humbling.
Dorcas, the only woman on the team, holds a basket full of hot washclothes, so we can wash the grit of the game drive off our faces and hands. She also keeps our tents clean and does our laundry. Simaseku is very tall; he is the assistant cook, right now the only cook as the head cook, Sky, is sick in Kasane. Paul is the assistant guide, and our other host in camp. John and John Jr. and Richard keep the fires going, help with meal preparation, tent set up, gather firewood, haul water, etc.
Godfrey gives us a brief introduction to our tents. My friends, there is a LOT of zipping. there are windows, and flaps that attach over the windows inside with velcro, and flaps that cover outside, too, if you wish. There is an entry net and an entry canvas, and when you go to bed at night, it is best if both are securely fastened. At all times, the net entry must be securely zipped to prevent insects and worse – snakes – from entering. As you enter the tent, you see a room about 14′ x 14′; two single beds together, nightstands, lamps all lit, a large chest for luggage, a thermos of ice water, glasses, and our own little flashlights to use to walk around camp after dark.
We are warned to stay inside the perimeter of lights; that mostly the animals won’t come where there are lights at night. In the next room, about 10′ x 14′, there is a toilet, a shower bottom with a gravity shower – a huge canvas bag full of HOT water, enough for AH and I both to shower, and a basin, also full of hot water, on a dressing table with big soft fluffy towels. This is my kind of camping!
There is also a laundry bag – and this is what makes it possible to travel on safari for 14 days with only 22 lbs of luggage. Anytime we are in camp for a full day, Dorcas washes our clothes, dries them on a line and irons them using a hot coal iron. They have to heat all the water for washing the clothes over fires. They bake bread and cakes for our meals in a hole in the ground with an iron box which acts as an oven. (The bread is absolutely delicious.) There is no electricity. Everything is either kerosene, fire, or run on batteries, like our bedside lights. Godfrey asks us NOT to leave the lights on all night, as it uses up the batteries too fast, and it attracts the bugs.
I will tell you, that first night, I was a little scared. We could hear . . . things. We could hear elephants trumpeting, and we could hear something crashing in the brush nearby. Best of all, we could hear birds, owls, calling birds, but also . . . other things. Godfrey had told us that if something came, just to stay in the tent. He also said it wouldn’t do any good to call for help, as the African staff was more afraid of the animals than we are!
At dinner, we learn that Godfrey for many years was a soldier in the Botswanan army, working in the anti-poaching unit, and it was at that time that he began to learn so much about nature. He was born in Namibia, before Botswana and Namibia became separate nations, and grew up in a small village not too far from where we were. In the village, people kept cattle, and lions were a constant worry. Lions love cattle, they are all in one place, not hard to catch, and you can eat them for several days. But if a cow isn’t readily available, why a stray child will do. Godfrey says that villagers grow up terrified of being taken by a lion.
Dinner is by candlelight. We have comfy African mahogony deck chairs, and china and crystal glasses – this may be camping, but it is truly elegant. There is a full bar, and all kinds of wine, most of it wasted on us. I am drinking a lot of bottled water, I feel so dry. Dinner this first night is beef stroganoff and rice, crispy green beans with garlic, cooked carrots and cheesecake for dessert. Did you know that at night lions go . . . Hummmpgh. . . huuummph . . .. .huumpf? Trust me. They do. They sound like they are right next to your tent.
Actually, because I was tired, I slept pretty well, when I wasn’t listening to all the sounds. It was cold, and while we were eating dinner, Dorcas and Paul put hot water bottles in our beds. AH is thrilled with this new technology – it is nice and warm!
Mining the Kuwait Times: A Kuwaiti Hero
I confess. I’m a nerd, a geek, an introvert. One of my favorite activities is reading the newspaper.
Today’s Kuwait Times is a gold mine. Two separate organizations are starting up activities to protect and help expat laborers – one, KTUF or Kuwait Trade Union Federation says it will begin receiving the complaints and work with employees and laborors to solve the problems, and gives their phone number: 561-6781.
The second is a paid for add by the Embassies of India, Indonesia, Bangladesh, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, the Phillipines, Egypt and the United States, and says Familiarize Yourself with Kuwaiti Society: Useful Information for Foreign Workers and is sponsored by Project FALCon (Fostering Awareness of Labor Conditions.
All the above embassy phone numbers are given. The last line in the Useful Information for Foreign Workers is “Do not enter into an inappropriate personal relationship with your employer.”
(!) Good advice in any country, any nationality!
The Pope, in his visit to Germany, is quoted as saying Western societies had become “hard of hearing” about God, saying “There are too many other frequencies in our ears. What is said about God strikes us as pre-scientific, no longer suited to our age.” He seems to say that instead of sending material aid to Africa and poor Asian countries, we need to be helping them spread the Gospel. Hmmmm.
In Somalia, the new “Taleban-style” regime shut down a radio station yesterday for airing “music and love songs”.
“‘The group closed Radio Jowhar because the programs were un-Islamic,’ Islamic official Mohamed Mohamoud Abdirahman said. It was the only radio station in Jowhar, some 90 kilometres from the capital, Mogadishu. “It is useless to air music and love songs for the people,” Abdirahman said.”
Last, and not least, a big WOOOO HOOOOO for al-Qattan, a real hero who conducts restaurant inspections in Kuwait. Here is what the Kuwait Times says:
Being director of this team causes many inconveniences. “I feel embarrassed, at times when I have to ignore unknown numbers appearing on my cell phone after each inspection. The owners of the violating restaurants start calling their connections ‘Wasta’ to make me cancel their fines. As I like to do my work legally, I don’t deal with them. I can’t put the lives of people at risk as, if anything happens to any consumer due to food poisoning they will definitely question the municipality” Al-Qattan explained.
He gets my vote for Kuwait Hero of the Day.
The Hemingway Safari: Victoria Falls and Zimbabwe (Part 1)
There is no objectivity in this account of our journey to Victoria Falls and Botswana. I will babble endlessly about the beauty of the country and the kindness of the people. You will think my descriptions of our journey and our stays fanciful, over-the-top. I have waited to write this because I needed to let the trip percolate and settle in my own mind. I felt like a helium balloon on the end of a very long tether, not at all grounded, bouncing with euphoria. Can any trip be that great?
I can only tell you this . . . at the end of the trip, AH (adorable husband) and I agreed we had never had a better 18 consecutive days in our entire lives. Yes, it was THAT good.
Zimbabwe and Victoria Falls
We flew South African Airlines from Frankfurt – Our seats were way in the back of the plane, which at first we thought a disadvantage, but there were lots of extra seats and we got to spread out and even sleep on the overnight flight. It was delightful for us to be flying overnight, and still be in the same time zone when we landed. We got to Johannesburg early and had a great time just looking around while we waited for our flight to Victoria Falls. We couldn’t buy anything, not a single thing, because our weight on the trip was limited to 10 kilos – about 23 lbs, plus camera equipment. We could only bring soft sided bags, bags that could be squashed into the tiny cargo hold of a little Air Safari Cessna 210, which holds no more than six people, max.
We were provided with a list of things to bring, including a medical kit with topical and internal antihistimines, bandages, pain killers, etc. Oh yes, and our malaria pills. Malaria prophylacts have different effects on different people. We were taking Larium for two weeks prior to our departure, during our trip, and must continue for four weeks after the trip. Even so, there are strains of malaria you are not protected against, and we were warned by the medical people that if anything odd pops up in the next year to remind medical professionals treating us that we travelled in Botswana.
The effect Larium has on me is to make me very awake, especially the first two or three days after taking the once-weekly dose. There are other effects – it also gives you very vivid and wild dreams.
Given such a low weight allowance, I had one dress with me, a rayon weave that I had picked up in Saudi Arabia. I wore it travelling, and two times for dinners at lodges. Even sleeping in it on the plane, overnight, it always looked good, and the wrinkles just fell out. Other than that, I wore jeans and T-shirts most of the time, and a long sleeve shirt when it got cool. I had bought a pair of tencel jeans, but they DO wrinkle. The cheap little Liz Claiborne jeans I bought wore like iron, and stayed good looking. I would have taken two pair of those had I known. I had to buy a wool sweater while I was there, as it is the middle of winter in the southern hemisphere, and while the days were very warm between 10:00 a.m. and 4:00 p.m., the nights were very cool, even COLD!
Arriving in Victoria Falls was a hoot. We had received mixed information on whether or not we would need a visa, and, as it turned out, we did. Everyone did. We stood in line forever. We asked others how much it would cost, and the answer was “what ever they think you will pay”. We ended up paying $30 each, but one guidebook had said $35, so we were not unhappy. And there was a lot of paperwork for two little visitors visas.
People having the most problems were the big game hunters, bringing in weapons to go hunting. The whole idea of shooting these animals is so repugnant to us that we hoped they had to pay a fortune to bring their weapons in. In Zimbabwe the infrastructure is falling into chaos. There is an air of desperation and uncertainty, and a lot of complaining about President Mugabe, his preferential treatment of his cronies, and his private police force. People say that they don’t know from day to day which laws apply, and which will be enforced.
First thing, we went to change money at the airport and no one could agree on what the current rate of exchange was. We changed money, but at what we later learned was a very bad rate. Instead of 55 Zimbabwe Dollars to the US dollar, we later got 80. Oh well.
After months of research, Gary had chosen to travel with Afro Ventures, which recently merged with CC (for Conservation Corp) Africa. We saw a lot of other tour operators while we were there, and never once did we regret our decision. AfroVentures had two young men at the airport to meet us and take us to the Victoria Falls Hotel.
Wow. I wish you could walk into that hotel for the first time with us. It is gorgeous. It is older, with large, spacious rooms and high ceilings. When you enter the foyer, there are large dark wood enclosures for guest services, for money exchange, for concierge, for porters, for booking excursions . . . there is a downstairs convenience and souvenier shop and a huge upstairs shop.
Our room is at the front of the hotel, facing the falls. There are poster beds with mosquito nets, and a dressing room with umbrellas and raincoats for walking down to the falls. Security is everywhere. There are guards at every entrance, and in every hallways. The hallways are long and filled with prints and trophy heads, mahogany furniture and floral arrangements. It is beautiful, it is clean, and it is SOOO elegant. We decided to have lunch on the terrace and decide what to do next. We had come a day early so that we could rest up and be fresh when we started the actual safari, but we are both feeling too excited to rest!
Out on the terrace are several tables filled with people in groups who came to see the total eclipse of the sun (reminds me of an old Carly Simon song). We learned that there are people who do just that, chase eclipses. I think they also, incidentally, do some game viewing. At one table nearby, we hear a guy call out “Steve! We’re over here! Where were you?” and Steve responds “I’ve been on the phone with my banker and my brokers. I’ve told them to liquidate everything and wire it to the hotel, and I’m just gonna stay here until it’s gone, and then tell them to just shoot me!” We laughed. Already, we feel the same way.
Looking at prices in Zimbabwe dollars is pretty scary. Our lunch, two grilled salmon sandwiches and soft drinks, came to a little over $5,500. And that is the way it looks on the menu; the Zimbabwe dollar uses the same sign as the US dollar. Our dinner that night came to over $10,000. Now when you divide by 80, it’s not so bad, but it is a shock when you see the bill. We kept our ears open at lunch and learned a lot. We learned that the balloon ride over the Falls is not a ride, you just go up in a balloon that is tethered over the Falls, but you don’t go anywhere. We learned that the helicopter ride is too short for the money, and a disappointment. We learned that there ARE people who do the bungee jump off the bridge we can see from the terrace, but you’d have to be crazy. Americans talk in such loud voices, and don’t care who is listening.
After lunch we took a hike down to the Falls, a short 5 minutes, but first we booked a tour for late afternoon and another for the following morning.
This is when we truly discovered how chaotic the situation is in Zimbabwe, because we had only brought so much cash with us, thinking we could use our credit cards. Well, we were told, we could use our credit cards but there had been a lot of problems in Zimbabwe with people using credit cards being charged huge amounts to compensate for the fluctuating currency. So we decided to use cash/dollars to pay for our tours, and it wiped out nearly 1/3 of what we had with us. We weren’t concerned, as we knew we would see cash machines later in the trip and could pick up more cash. Another big mistake. We never saw another cash machine until we got back to Johannisburg.
As you leave the hotel to walk to the Falls, you go through a gate, a huge electrified fence. Just outside the fence are huge elephant poops, and that is the purpose of the fence, to keep the elephants out. This is not like our trip to Kenya and Tanzania, more than 25 years ago, when the animals were kept at a distance.
The Falls are spectacular. We paid to get into the park and then hiked to all the vantage points. We had umbrellas with us, and that was a good thing, as the Falls are at a high point right now, and the mist is as heavy as rain in several locations. It is a very hot day, midday, and the cool mist/rain feels great. As it is Saturday, there are a lot of local families visiting the Falls, and that is fun for us, too. We got thoroughly soaked, but enjoyed every minute of it.
The thunder of the water flowing over the falls makes it hard to hear one another, it is so loud, so forceful. It is an awe-inspiring and breathtaking sight. And, one of the seven natural wonders of the world, we learn, and spend the rest of the trip trying to figure out what the other six might be. Natural wonders, not man made.
We have a short rest in our room and it is time for our afternoon tour, a sunset cruise. Here is where we first learn how special this whole adventure is going to be. We thought we had booked on some boat with a large group. Not so! We were picked up by Larry, who then picked up Zandelie. Who is Zandelie? We’re not entirely sure. She is Zimbabwean, works at the African Kingdom hotel, and maybe is Larry’s wife? Girlfriend? We are it. We are the tour.
Larry drives us to a large campground, a campground NOT surrounded by a huge electric fence, where elephants have pushed over most of the trees and baboons are destroying the thatching on the campsite roofs. At the river edge of the campground is a small flat boat with a powerful engine. We see other boats with lots of people, but on our smaller boat it is just us, Larry and Zandelie.
With the small boat, we can get into very shallow inlets and grassy areas. We climbed aboard, and Larry takes us to see elephants, and water buffalo, and wart hogs, and hippos, and baboons. We have a potty stop and Larry points out huge hippo footprints and asks us not to go too far, and to come right back. Did you know that the hippo cause more human deaths than any other animal in Africa?
We anchored near the Zambian side of the Zambezi river, drank Zambezi beer, have a plate of hors d’eouvres and watch the sun go down. All drinks and snacks are included on the tour. The sunset is spectacular, the smalls, the sounds, the sheer beauty – itβs an incredible ending to our first day back in Africa.
Larry drives very slowly on our way back into Victoria Falls, and it is a good thing. There are cars and trucks on the dark road without lights, some on the wrong side of the road. As we enter Victoria Falls, things are really hopping, lots of people, the bars are open but the streets are not well lit. We pass three guys in wheelchairs, just tooling down the road, in the dark, nearly made my heart stop.
Back at the hotel, we decide to try the hotel buffet at the Jungle Junction, so we walk down to make a reservation and unintentionally interrupt a worship service. They are very kind, and reserve for us a lovely table. When we come back, we find that our expectations were wrong, that the food is fabulous. This chef specializes in curries, and oh, we are in heaven. There is a cold gazpacho soup, and a huge buffet, but we adore curries, so just have the soup and curry. Gary has dessert . . . there is SO much to choose from. We are astonished everyone is taking such good care of us.
There is one funny personal moment . . . as we were unpacking at the hotel, and marvelling at how thoughtfully they had provided so many things – a retractible clothesline in the bathroom, and clothes washing powder, the umbrellas, etc., AH found a decorative tin of Lindt chocolates by my side of the bed. “Wow!” he said, “Lindt chocolates, can you believe that??” and he looked inside and found the spicy Chex mix I like so well, and said “I can’t believe it! It’s full of the Chex mix you love!” and I am nearly dying of laughter. I had thought the food might not be very good, and often on these trips you often eat late, so I had brought a supply of Chex mix for holding us over until dinner. All of a sudden he realized it wasn’t the hotel, and we just roared with laughter. We just fell into our beautiful bed, SOOOO tired, and we slept like babies.
Recent Comments
tigerbutterya0c5ff1d… on “Who Would Do Such a… intlxpatr on A Lawless, Authoritarian … Kuwait Someday on A Lawless, Authoritarian … intlxpatr on Oh Thank You, Amazon! Rivergirl on Oh Thank You, Amazon! Wikipedia Donate Button
Amazina
Early Voting in Florida
Here There and Everywhere 