I may be a Scandinavian at heart

Arthur excited about his African mammals book

At the risk of sounding unpatriotic, I must admit… I may be a Scandinavian at heart. While I’ve always admired their social programs from a distance, after a third trip to Copenhagen…I think I might be sold.

First, it is one of the few places I’ve traveled in the world where I “blend”. After spending so much of my life in Africa sticking out like a sore thumb (or a “pink flamingo” as Elizabeth Gilbert describes in Eat, Pray, Love – I totally sympathize with that description), it is refreshing to travel unobtrusively. Small children feel no need to rush and point and scream “lekgoa” (white person) as if I’m some sort of alien species. On occasion, people in Denmark actually mistake me for a Dane and speak to me in their native tongue to which I have to sadly reply, “I speak English.”

Second, while Paul often bemoans the memories of living in Denmark with its bad weather, each of the times I’ve visited (granted… always in the summer) the days have been long (with sunlight well past 10 PM – which is a little disorienting but…) and the sun has been shining most of the time. Perhaps, “don’t come here, the weather stinks” is something they tell foreigners to keep them from immigrating! 

Beautiful weather on the canal in Copenhagen

Third, the food is definitely within my preferred palate: salmon, dill, prawns, remoulade, fish and chips, fricadella, cheese and jam on rolls for breakfast, those little fried onion things you put on sandwiches that I can never remember the name of…I’m in heaven. Nothing is too spicy. Everything is fresh. While I can’t spell or pronounce most of it, I’m pretty safe in ordering anything because it is all delicious. It was also strawberry season (and we never have that in Botswana!).

More delicious food - rack of lamb that Jeanet made

"Turning Torso", Malmo, Sweden

Fourth, I love the daily activity level of the culture. There are lanes and lights specifically for biking. At all hours of the day you can find people out walking, running, paddling, cycling. All ages seem to engage in physical activity (we saw groups of pensioners rowing in the nearby canals on a daily basis).  We biked to the zoo, kayaked in the canal, walked into the city to view an international sand sculpture competition, and took the metro and train to Sweden for the day to celebrate my birthday. We kept physically active without “working out” once (a much better way to stay fit than going to the gym!).

Fifth, while locals may complain about the high tax rates (and they are high), the social safety nets and benefits that exist are hard to beat. Paul’s son, Nikolaj, is able, for example, to be paid to stay home from work to care for his ailing mother. While the United States has the Family and Medical Leave Act (FMLA), which allows people to take time off from work to care for their sick loved ones or new born/adopted children (or themselves if they are sick – my dad used this to keep his job while he underwent several surgeries related to his bladder cancer in the fall), the Danes have us beat with their social programs by… A LOT! While FMLA “entitles ‘eligible’ employees of ‘covered’ employers to take unpaid, job-protected leave for specified family and medical reasons,” there are lots of caveats and fine print. Click here for a helpful summary sheet on FMLA (you may need to take advantage of these benefits at some point in time).

 Even self-employed Nikolaj can get compensation to care for his sick mother for as long as he needs to: no time limits (in the US – 12 weeks), no minimum company size (in the US - typically companies with over 50 employees only), and no uncompensated time off! I’m hard-pressed to believe that anyone out there doesn’t see this as a benefit worth supporting: the privilege to care for our loved ones in their greatest moments of need…who could argue against that?

Nikolaj and Paul at the international sand competition

Arthur with Trine heading into the petting zoo

Paul and piranhas at the aquarium

Arthur using Nikolaj's ears as handles at the zoo

Finally, while we probably can’t credit Copenhagen with Paul’s grandson Arthur (all that credit goes to Nikolaj and Trine!)…he is definitely worth making the long and tiring trip (via Dubai with a midnight to 5 AM layover!) to see! Sweet, curious, inquisitive, energetic, enthusiastic…all that an 18 month old should be! And while, over the course of our weeklong visit, I manged to learn the Danish words for “no” and “more” from Arthur (two well used words by kids this age!)…I sure hope he learns some English too so we can communicate. Or perhaps I should learn some more Danish…since I may be a Scandinavian at heart!

Putting his "food frock" to good use!

Excited!

Sweet!

playing hooky on a Monday in Botswana

giraffe and impalas at a watering hole

Botswana has had fairly regular power outages since I arrived in Maun a month ago. While the country has historically gotten most of their power from South Africa, since South Africa is experiencing their own shortages, Botswana is suffering. And while predictions that this was likely to happen have been in place for years, the construction of their own coal fired power plant is behind schedule so in the meantime, the lights are not on, even when we are home.

This typically happens just around dinner time (how convenient) but we are prepared with camping lanterns and head lamps easily accessible and a gas stove for cooking. Fortunately, it is winter time here and the weather is pleasant enough not to need AC.

At times, we get notification that power will be out for the entire day. Monday was one of these occasions and we decided to play hooky. Just an hour and a half drive from our front door on the ostrich farm brings us to the southernmost gate of Moremi Game Reserve. And for all of 70 pula (less than $10 USD) we spent the day driving around the bush exploring the new roads around the “black pools” area (the Department of Wildlife has recently “cut” a whole new series of roads in this part of the park. There are even signs indicating where each new sand track leads – this is remarkable given that there is very little signage in the parks in Botswana).

Paul mixing Malawi Shandies on the bonnet/hood of the Pajero

With picnic lunch packed we meander on until we arrive at the pools (which are now more “green” than “black” due to an invasive species of weeds called salvinia molesta). With camp chairs unfolded and side tables popped out, we enjoy our lunch and Malawi Shandies (a delightfully refreshing concoction of ginger ale, lemonade (more like sprite or 7-up) and Angostura bitters – yum!). 

From our spot we can see a pod of hippos across the pool. Some of them have a patch of the invasive weed on their back looking much like a bad toupee. They move in and out of the water cooling themselves as the mid-day sun warms them up to take the chill off the cold morning. An egret perches on the back (or head!) of a partially submersed hippo, giving the illusion that he’s standing on water. At one point the hippo decides to move and the egret is magically transported like royalty smoothly through the water. If it’s mode of transport completely submerges it simply flies off to another hippo head for a safe landing.

Hippos at Black Pools, Moremi

A few feet down the shore are three large crocodiles frozen in space (one with its mouth half open). They too are covered in salvinia and look like military operatives camouflaged on the banks. You could so easily overlook them in their stillness.

Off to our right is a fairly consistent migration of zebras, wildebeest and impala intermixing with warthogs grazing on their knees and giraffe browsing in the tall trees near the edge of the woodland area. As the afternoon wears on we are joined by a herd of lechwee (antelopes that prefer to be near the water). 

Little Bee Eaters

The rest of our afternoon is spent trundling around the bush, identifying birds and enjoying the elephants and buffalo. I even take the opportunity to (reluctantly) practice my bush driving – I still suffer from a bit of “post-traumatic elephant syndrome” from my first experience driving in the bush when I was charged by an elephant.

We arrive back home to (still) no power and decide to enjoy our sundowners outside in the company of the ostriches and a bush baby who leaps from tree limb to tree limb as dusk settles in. While I hope for a visit from our resident yellow mongoose, he must be settled in for the night or still full from the left over chicken he ate when he visited on Sunday. 

 Such is the life of "playing hooky" on a Monday in Botswana.  Magic!