road cutting, spontaneous smorgasbord and mamba!

Happy belated 4th of July! Hope you enjoyed the day. Paul and I did eat hotdogs and baked beans in celebration but I was really missing buns for the hotdogs (bread selection is seriously limited here), watermelon and good corn on the cob (and of course family and friends to celebrate with!). No fireworks either, but I think I did hear a car backfire…that will have to do.

Last week we spent three days in Savute cutting a new road for the mobile safari sector. Paul mapped it using Google Earth and data on an old road that used to exist there and we were pleasantly surprised to see that the elephants had maintained it quite well. There is still a lot of standing water around from that unusual early June rain we had. The typical way we get up to Savute is not passable due to the mud and water. As such, the only way into the park is a rickety bridge over a river. I usually hold my breath as we go over these.

Once we arrived we easily located the start of the old road which was now being used as an elephant thoroughfare. As such, with some bush bashing and chain sawing some small Mopani trees we were able to clear a good section of it on the first day. My job, along with another safari company owner’s 11 year old son, was to watch out for elephants and other beasts that might be lurking in the bush. Perched up on the wheel well we shouted at the top of our lungs when we heard some angry elephants trumpeting nearby. The work crew (Paul, Stuart and Rian) came running! Later that same afternoon we spotted a herd of Cape buffalo, notoriously some of the meanest and most dangerous creatures out there. We were delayed a bit as we waited for the herd to get to a safe distance from our new road.


The next day we managed to clear the roughly 7 mile road by mid-day so we decide to go find some of the remote Zwei zwei camp sites that are often assigned to the mobile safari companies when the ones closer in are booked. The new road we put in will actually get mobile companies out to these sites much quicker. Zwei zwei was the area where I survived the elephant charge last year and there were plenty of elephants this year as well (but fortunately no charges).

The campsites were much farther out than we expected and we had to break for lunch and eat whatever “tin food” (a.k.a. canned food) was in our vehicles. We had an interesting spontaneous smorgasbord of butter beans, sweet corn, spaghetti in a can and this nasty meat stuff that resembles SPAM and actually lists “beef hearts” as one of the ingredients on the side of the can. I did not partake in that, but Paul loved it. Ick!

We camped for two nights and headed back to Maun on the third day. We were toasty warm at night this time as I brought the heaviest duvet we own and that seemed to do the trick. While the animal populations were quite thin, because of the abundance of water, we did see some beautiful kudu and on the way back another black mamba in the road. I say “another” because we saw one about a year and a half ago in the Transfrontier Park (between Botswana and South Africa) and I was really hoping that I would be able to say (to myself, students, anyone who worries about me over here), “I’ve only seen one black mamba in ten years.” But after this second sighting, I’ve now seen two in two years.

Noted as the deadliest snake in Africa, the mamba is an elegant snake who looks much like a mole snake or black rat snake (both completely harmless). This particular one was about 9 feet long and about half way across the road when it spotted us, lifted up the first half of his body, effortlessly reversed its direction so that one half was elevated about ten inches above the other half while it quickly retreated to the brush on the side of the road. It is hard to explain in words how this snake seems “different” from others. While others are slow and slithery, this one is powerful, lightening fast and elegant. He is noted for his ability to go from flat on the ground to straight up so that the two of you are looking eye to eye in seconds. We thought we might get to see that but no such luck. Still it was impressive and terrifying all at the same time.

PS: Also saw a honey badger running across the road in the park. These are pretty rare to see too and super vicious!

range rehabilitation, star gazing in Moremi and a parrot in my hair

First, thanks to all of you that sent along birthday wishes. I had a nice birthday on the 18th. Paul spoiled me all day beginning with an attempt at coffee in bed (until the parrot in the living room started squawking because she wanted Paul to come out there…she’s quite social…and demanding). At the office I was given a package of assorted “biscuits” (a.k.a. cookies) to eat with my mid-morning tea. At lunch, I announced that I really would like a piece of cake for my birthday to which Paul promptly left the office to retrieve a chocolate mousse cake from his neighbor’s fridge (he had purchased it the day before and was hiding it in there for dinner that night). He said I made a “pre-emptive cake strike” by requesting it for lunch (instead of the plan for dinner). Also received some nice gifts throughout the day including a nice beaded giraffe for the house in Greenville (that we don’t live in yet but are buying things for on a regular basis) and a fuzzy pink bathrobe (very “bush worthy” for my walks to the outdoor shower – although I’m not sure I’ll be using that too much until I recover from the story our friend Mike told me of his sighting of a boom slang in there the other day – that snake has 3 red dots on the snake chart in the living room meaning “super venomous”).

Last weekend we went down to Ghanzi, a big cattle farming area, about a 2-3 hour drive from Maun to visit a friend of Paul’s Kevin and his wife Merle. Paul had worked with Kevin several years ago when he started the range rehabilitation project with funding from Tiso Kalahari. Botswana is a big cattle raising country (hence the cows in the road) and there is a lot of “over grazing” of farm areas, meaning there is no grass left to eat. Paul worked with Kevin on some “controlled burns” in areas to clear out the under-brush that gets so thick there is no room for grass to grow. We spend the weekend bashing around the farm in a giant tank like tractor mapping the farm with the help of Paul’s GPS so that long range comparisons can be made between burn and non-burn areas. We stayed in an elevated reed chalet on a watering hole and heard howling jackal at night and enjoyed the bird life during the day. In addition to cattle, the farm also had plenty of kudu and ostrich roaming around.

This weekend we went up to Moremi Game Reserve to give a star show for a safari. The group was a very nice family of fifteen from grandparents to grandkids from California. We came in on Saturday night just in time to celebrate one of the granddaughter’s 16^th birthdays with a traditional elephant dung cake (a classic of safari companies, there’s always great laughter when they figure out it is filled with poop!). The real cake delivered, champagne poured, and the evening was off to a good start as the sun set over the pan. It was a beautiful sunset.

With pre-dinner sundowners Paul told them a bit about the galaxy, astronomy and bushman folklore regarding the constellations of the southern hemisphere. As he was talking, with the sky only partially illuminated by a quarter moon, we notice movement about 20 feet away as a huge hippo made his way to the pan. With a flash of a torch (a.k.a. flash light) he backed up a bit but eventually worked up the courage to make a mad run to the watering hole sending water flying everywhere like a tank driving full speed into the water. He signaled his triumph with a signature set of grunts as we cautiously looked on.

We continued the evening with a fabulous steak dinner and after the meal Paul entertained them for hours with his telescope viewing Saturn (which at this point is tilted in such a way that it looks like an olive with a tooth pick stuck through it), Jupiter, the moon, and many fascinating stars and nebular clusters. I enjoyed observing the family dynamics of what must have been a very wealthy family. This was just one evening of a two week trip which involved multiple chartered flights from one scenic location to the next. A quick Google search on return to Maun revealed that one of the sons was a TV producer from LA who had directed several episodes of Lost! One of my favorite shows.

One of the advantages of money like that is that you don’t have to endure the actual drive to these unspoiled areas. Since they were jet setting to their next destination there was an extra vehicle that needed to be driven back to Maun so while Paul drove the safari vehicle back, I drove our Mitsubishi through mud, sand and slippery calcrete roads (which felt like driving on corrugated ice, bumpy and slippery at the same time!). There is still a lot of water up in Moremi, unusual for this time of year (which is supposed to be the dry season). On several occasions Paul had to wade into the icy cold mud water to see if it was passable. Better him than me.

Fortunately, no elephant encounters while driving in the bush this time (unlike my first time driving in the bush). We did see some ellies but they were calm. We also saw giraffe, kudu, impala, lechwee, zebra, baboons, vervet monkeys, etc. The coolest sighting of the weekend was a small pack of wild dogs. While I had seen some before in captivity…never in the wild. They were not fussed at all by us and walked right by the car. Two of them were collared for research purposes but the others were not. We were very excited about our good luck in seeing them and I was surprised how much they looked like skinny lanky domestic dogs!

It was a very nice weekend. In a couple of days, we head off to Savute to help cut a new road for the mobile safari companies. It has been very cold at night (close to freezing) so I’ll have to pack everything warm that I own. It was a long cold night in Moremi listening to the hippos, lions and hyenas and freezing my butt off!

PS: Well the parrot finally worked up the courage the other morning to try to land on me again. There I was innocently drinking my morning coffee and the bird launches itself off its cage, flapping erratically, and lands…square on my head. Paul insists it’s because my shoulders are too small to suffice as landing strips. So there I was in my pink fuzzy bathrobe, coffee cup in hand, with a bird in my hair. With nothing to grip on to, his talons are digging into my skull and the more Paul tries to get him off the more he digs in. At some point I start to cry in a complete fizzle as he backs up towards my face. Finally, our friend Mike walks in and the bird calmly walks off my head and onto his arm. It was quite a start to the day. Fortunately, he didn’t poop on my head (especially since we had no water that morning for a shower!).

adjusting to life back in Botswana

It always takes me a bit of time to adjust to life back in Botswana. I’m not sure if it’s watching for snake spores or trying to discern between the different types of black ants to know which are the ones who’s bite hurts like hell (the Matabele ants that bite and make you go numb for hours. They are black and slightly bigger than other ants but otherwise they have no distinguishing features). Today I’m home alone and I’m currently trying to identify the wasp that is circling my head. If it is a mud wasp, he’s fine and is just trying to find a place to build his mud home in a crevice in the house. If it is a red wasp, I need to be worried as his sting hurts like hell, Paul says worse than a scorpion! To me they look the same and so basically I’m leery of both of them. I’ve just managed to let him out the window so…either way I’m covered.

It is the oddness of daily events that throws me off a bit. The other day, for example, we were called over by Happiness, our Zimbabwean neighbor to come see a snake fighting with a chameleon, neither of which is liked by the average African. By the time we got there, the snake had consumed most of the chameleon and only his tail and one of his legs was sticking out of this mouth. Despite the fact that it was simply a harmless mole snake, the Zimbabweans were ready to kill him. Joe informed us that his grandmother had warned him that all snakes were bad. A friend of theirs insisted that, “the Good News Bible even says that all snakes should be killed because there are our enemies.” What kind of church is preaching that? Poor Paul was beside himself trying to educate them about harmful and harmless snakes. I’m not sure how far he got.

As you know we are involuntarily watching our neighbor’s animals who are away for a month. As I mentioned, the parrot met us in the tree outside of our house the day we arrived from the states and the two dogs have basically set up camp on our front stoop. As an animal lover, I like the company although I must admit that the bird worries me a little. The other day, in what must have been a comic scene, he flew from his cage right toward my head. In a panic I covered my head with the news paper I was reading, jumped out of my chair, throwing the red wine in my glass to the wind and ran out of the room. In the chaos the bird flew out the front door off into a tree some distance from the house. Paul, the bird lover that he is, insists that he was simply trying to land on my shoulder. I think he was going for my eyes!

Paul spent the next hour trying to coax him back inside before it got dark and he got eaten by some sort of bird of prey. On his return flight, he thought he’d land for a moment on the roof, which is metal but he slip, slip, slipped until he lost the battle with gravity and landed, phu-whap!, right in the dirt. Poor little thing was winded for quite some time, huffing and puffing for air. We thought he might have cracked a rib or something! He (and I) eventually recovered from the experience but every time I hear wings flapping, I shutter a little. The other day I ducked in to the indentation created in the hall by the side door as he flew from the living room, through the office, down the hall to the kitchen to see what Paul was cooking (he likes snow peas, whole oats and herb crackers).

At times we take the two dogs, Fudge and Taffy, for a walk with us.They love it and run like mad on the dirt roads near our house. Regularly they get thorns stuck in their paws but they continue to run first on only 3 legs, then sometimes on only two. Like athletic amputees competing in the Special Olympics they carry on! Paul will call out, "Taffy has a puncture (which is what they call flat tires here). Front right and back left!" And I'll try to convince him to stop long enough to let me pull the thorns out of his paws.

We had a nice little route for walks around the ostrich farm until the river came up so high there was no path left around the fence. The Thamalakane River is higher than anyone has seen it in years. At night the frogs are so loud, it sounds like we are being invaded!

I’m still struggling with driving. Honestly, I would much rather drive a 25 foot RV through traffic in Atlanta than drive around here. There is too much car to my left and too much road to my right. It just doesn’t feel right. Additionally, taxi drivers are unpredictable…sometimes driving extremely slow, other times only partially pulling off the road to let passengers out, still others making a wide left turn only to cross the road to the right (as if they were driving an 18 wheeler). As if the vehicle traffic isn’t enough to deal with, there are the donkeys, cows, goats and occasional pedestrians to worry about. I’m not sure I’ll ever drive at night as all of those things seem to like to occupy the roads after dark and none of them are easily seen (I have yet to see a pedestrian not wearing black at night).

As I’m continuing to write I hear a crunch, crunch, snap, crunch outside. I can see that a red horn bill has managed to catch a grasshopper about 4 inches long and is trying to eat it. It’s longer than his beak so he’s flipping I up in the air, crunching, flipping again. I don’t know how he’s going to eat that thing. But then again if that snake managed the chameleon, I’m sure he’ll manage too. I think he got it but now he looks like it’s stuck in his throat. Ouch! It’s a tough world out there.

Well, I’d better get back to reading and lecture writing.

duckling rescue

So I’ve been meaning to write up this duckling rescue story for some time but only now have the chance to sit down and do it. Hope you enjoy it. Just goes to show you, you can have an adventure…even in Greenville, South Carolina.
It was a sunny spring day in May in Greenville, South Carolina. I decided to bring Paul and his son, Nikolaj, and daughter-in-law, Trine, visiting from Copenhagen down to the Reedy River to see the town. Walking across the pedestrian suspension bridge we stopped to look at the waterfall of the Reedy that used to power the textile mills that sustained Greenville for decades. Now, the area has turned into a local attraction for tourists and locals alike to come and enjoy the views.

As we’re standing on the bridge looking down at the waterfall Paul notices one, two, three tiny little ducklings at the base of the falls struggling to make their way to safe ground. Initially we thought they might actually live up under the rock they were swimming to for safety but then, when the third one got washed further down and tried to go back up the waterfall, we realized they might not be there on purpose.

Just then a woman approached us and pointed out the mother and six struggling ducklings at the top of the fall. They were being pulled down closer to the top of the falls by the current and then swimming with all their might to safety for a moment of reprieve only to be washed down again to repeat the cycle again and again. She mentioned that this had been going on for well over an hour. Oh no…something must be done!

I get on my cell phone and dial 411 to ask for the animal control but sadly when I call I’m informed that they close at 5:30 pm (it’s now after 6 pm) and I’m instructed to call the State Department of Natural Resources for “after hours wildlife concerns.” Back to 411 but unfortunately when I get the number, no one answers. It just rings and rings. Now I’m desperate. I dial 911 and blurt out, “this is not a human emergency but a duck emergency…there are ducklings being washed over the top of the Reedy River Falls.” To which the 911 operate gasps, “Oh no!” I explain to her who I’ve already tried to call and she struggles to think of another option.

She mentions that she could send some officers but they would be no help and then remembers a volunteer organization for wildlife rescue and rehab. She gives me that number. I dial it and encounter the most bizarre automated phone system that I’ve ever heard. “Please listen carefully to this message as it will direct you to the volunteer who can help you with your particular wild life emergency. If you’ve found a opossum dial 27. If you have a bird emergency, dial 40. If it has a sharp beak, dial 42. For a rounded beak, 47.” OK, those aren’t the real numbers but you get the idea. I finally get to the duck lady and explain the situation and she says she’ll be there in 20 minutes…with nets.

I rush back to the others and explain what has transpired. Paul says, “They’ll never make it that long. They are getting fatigued. Let’s go Nikolaj. We have to do something.” This is just one of the many reasons I love this man. I don’t think I know anyone else who would jump into the Reedy River to save distressed ducklings.

We cross the bridge, jump over the wall leading to the grassy area near the river and wade in. The next thing I know, Paul is at the ducklings. The mom is squawking like mad and Paul is catching ducklings as they scatter to get away from him. He’s downstream from them so as they lose the battle against the current he scoops them up and puts them into a green plastic shopping bag that Nikolaj had. He fills it with the ducklings he’s snatched. Nikolaj is behind him catching those he misses and Trine has scaled the 25 foot rock face to get down to the bottom of the falls in order to get to the ones that have already gone over. I’m standing on the banks…dumbfounded. I’ve re-arranged the contents of my purse for duckling carrying (Paul always laughs at my fascination with bags…I like to think of them as “gear” and this one is perfect for duck rescues as it is lines with some sort of waterproof lining).

Next, I see Paul about mid-stream chasing a stray that is making its way towards the middle of the river. At one point, he slips and falls at the very top of the falls and I think…oh my god, after all he’s been through in his life, he’s going to die in the Reedy River. Feet up, green bag held high so as not to squish the ducklings, and bam! He slams onto his butt and elbow into the rocks to break his fall. Undeterred he drags himself up with the stray duckling safely in the bag and makes his way to the other bank (it should be noted that he somehow hurt his back on our cross-country trip and has been in pain and on medication for it for the last several days).

I rush back across the pedestrian bridge. A stranger helps me get Paul’s attention by whistling and we make the transfer from the green shopping bag to my purse so he can go to the lower level of the falls and see if he can find any others. In the meantime, Trine has managed to rescue one from the bottom of the falls and scale back up the rock face using one hand. Nikolaj is up to his neck in the Reedy River trying to go to the location at the bottom of the falls we originally saw them and Paul is headed back out to help.

By this time, the wild life rescue and rehab people have arrived with a box and two nets. I dump the contents of my purse into the box. 1,2,3,4,5 and a 6th one that doesn’t belong with the others (it’s a different species!). The lower falls retrieval produces 3 more. A total of 7 from the original group with the mom and two of the second species are saved. We load the siblings into the box and head back up to the top of the river. I made sure to take a close look at the mom so I’d be able to return them to her if we caught them. I see her across the river on the other bank. She is squawking at the top of her little duck lungs, I’m sure she is in complete dismay about what has just happened. Her ducklings are peeping like crazy. I’m sure trying to find their mom.

I crouch near the bank of the river, tilt the box in the direction of the river, hoping to angle the sound across the expanse. She is going “squawk, squawk, squawk”…they are going “peep, peep, peep.” This goes on for what seems like an eternity. We are so close to a reunion but yet so far. Finally… she hears them. I see her head turn, she dives in the water and starts to paddle. “Squawk, Squawk, Squawk!” In unison they desperately reply, “Peep, peep, peep.” She paddles like mad. When she gets close to the bank and makes her way up the side, I slowly dump the contents of my box, her family, onto the bank and they waddle their way over to her. Success! I almost cry. OK, maybe I cry a little.

The whole time, as the events are unfolding, we’ve been watched and assisted by a variety of onlookers. Some are pointing out where ducklings are from the bridge. Others are peaking in my purse to see the tiny ducklings all hovered together. One group of teenagers has been here from the beginning. They were actually there before we arrived and saw the first few go over the falls. They’re the type of teens you might turn your nose up at if you saw them walking down the street. Their bangs are a bit too long and eye-liner a bit too thick. They look like trouble or at least like non-contributing members of society that you hope will someday “grow out” of this phase that they’re in. As I retreat from the scene of the duck family reunion one of them says to me a bit choked up, “Man, we were watching it all happen but we didn’t do anything. We just watched. We need more people in the world like you.” Perhaps we did more than just save some ducklings that day.

Paul, there's a parrot in the living room

Well the first week back in Maun has been characteristically interesting. First, as I mentioned earlier, one of our neighbors has left town for a month leaving his 2 dogs and parrot behind. They are to be cared for by some local “kids”, who are to feed the dogs every other day (and I feel guilty leaving my dog behind with a full time pet sitter who lives in my house). You can imagine how well that goes over with the dogs. So they have taken up residency on our porch and the bird, which had flown the coop (literally managed to push the wires apart to get out of his cage) found us perched in a tree near our house. After Paul coaxed him out of the tree, we relocated his cage into our living room and he’s now living with us (hence the title of this e-mail). Since he gets out of the cage anyway we just let him come and go as he wishes. He likes to sit on Paul’s shoulder and nip at his glasses a bit (and sometimes his ear). He looks at me suspiciously cocking his head left to right (and I think, hey buddy…I’m letting you live in my living room…be nice!).

This weekend we went out to Nxai pan for our friends’, Kelley and Thoralf, wedding. You may recall that this is the couple that served as our witnesses at our wedding last July. Kelley is American (teaches at UT, Austin) and Thoralf is German and has been in Maun for years. They met when she came to do some research a couple of years ago. Oddly, she was married when they met to a man with the same last name as Thoralf, which she dropped when they divorced. Wonder if she’s going to take it back again now that she’s married to a new man with the same last name? Life in its natural state is…odd.

We actually only realized it was a wedding a few days before (we were informed of their engagement in January and told they were getting married in Germany in November, so when we got an invitation we thought it was just a party). We also were told it was “casual” only to have the bride show up in an elegant evening gown and most women in dresses (the bride told me “jeans are fine” so I had to make a scarf into a skirt and go with that…I “made a plan” as they say in Africa). The night was beautiful… sun setting in the West while full moon rising in the East over Baines baobabs…absolutely lovely. About 27 of us ate dinner under the full moon in the middle of the pan (a flat surface with a small rise at the edge (like a pan) that fills with rain during the rainy season and crusts up into a crunchy type of surface that sounds like the ice crust of fresh snow when you step on it). An odd mix of dated American music played through the night (the Germans really love that). Paul brought his telescope and we looked at craters of the moon. We retreated to our own campus site later in the night (almost couldn’t find it as it is difficult to find your way in the bush in the dark). We like the peacefulness of camping in the bush without music blaring or people partying.

The next morning we did a short game drive through the pan. We saw quite a bit of wildlife: giraffe, impala, springbok, wildebeest, kori busters (big birds that look like prehistoric creatures), steenbok, a couple of jackals and some bat ear foxes (pretty cool. I hadn’t seen these before. They are slightly larger than raccoons with big ears that squish down to look like Yoda when they do their routine territorial markings – squat, pee, flatten your ears to look like Yoda, move 6 feet, assume position again to mark new area).

Oddly, we got home last night just before it started to rain. It’s odd because this is the dry season and should not be raining. It has been “pissing down with rain” (that means it’s coming down hard) and looks like it will be for the next few days. Silly me…I didn’t even travel with a rain jacket or umbrella…after all it’s the dry season. It never rains.
Signing off a bit soggy,
Kristy

PS: Learned some new phrases at the party…we were instructed to “charge” our classes before toasts were given (I only thought batteries were “charged”).

hunters and missionaries

Greetings from Botswana!
Just a quick note to let you know that we've arrived safely in Maun. We left Sunday...flying internationally for the first time together...certainly makes the 19 hour flight go faster when you have someone to talk to (or sleep on!). Arrived Monday in Johannesburg. Brought Paul to the dentist Tuesday morning to try to deal with what was diagnosed as a "dislocated jaw" in Denver only to be told by his dentist that his jaw muscle is "cramped"!? We'll try to treat with heat and meds and hope that it improves (he has only been able to open his mouth about an inch or so since he had a root canal over a month ago). Today (Wednesday) took a quick, 2 hour, flight up to Maun.

On our flight to South Africa we are often surrounded by hunters and missionaries. An odd mix of people neither of which I quite know what to say to..."hope you fail at killing innocent animals...converting savage souls"?? I usually don't say much to them but instead enjoy the movie selections (watched "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" and "Revolutionary Road" both of which I would recommend but for different reasons. The first, for its creative plot and the latter for its excellent depiction of what Betty Friedan in "The Feminine Mystique" called "comfortable concentration camps." Depressing but worth seeing.).

Our little layover in Johannesburg afforded us the opportunity to go to our favorite little movie theater where we saw "The Reader" (both of us cried when he started reading books onto tapes for her) and talked all through dinner about the complexity of the characters at our favorite Vietnamese/Thai restaurant "Cranks." Neither of which we'll get (good movies or ethnic foods) for the next 2 1/2 months.

Not much has changed in Maun since I was last here in March. We are in the dry "brown" season and the lush green fields and puddle filled roads are replaced by lots of dry sand, clear blue skies and brown/tan thorn bushes. We were greeted by "Fudge" and "Taffy" the neighbors' dogs who seem to have taken up residence at our place (not an uncommon phenomenon if you recall our previous visitors).

We're headed off for an afternoon walk to look for snake spore (tracks). We've heard rumors of some spiting cobras in the area. Yikes! Just a typical afternoon in Botswana before we head back to work tomorrow morning.

I'm glad to be back "home" (however one defines that... at least back at my "home away from home").
Cheers,
Kristy

the absurdity of it all

You’d think with all this traveling back and forth between Africa and the United States I would get used to the inevitable “culture shock” on re-entry into the states but still it catches me off guard. Perhaps it was that I was seated next to the “boss” of Aflac (giant “gap” insurance company) for the flight into Greenville, who has recently bought property at the Cliffs (highly exclusive, super expensive private housing up in the mountains) and was coming to play a few rounds of golf for the weekend while reading “Wine Enthusiast” magazine, wearing a Rolex watch that could feed a good size village in Botswana…or maybe it was the stupidity of evening TV as I struggled to stay up to at least 9 PM so that I can try to get over my jet lag as soon as possible (I was jumping between “Dr. 90210” where two sisters were getting breast augmentations so that they could continue to be “hot moms” at 26 and 30 years old and some sort of home shopping network that was selling mascara for $55!) What planet am I on? Because it certainly can’t be the same one I’ve been on for the last 3 ½ months.

we're baaack (but delayed)

Hi all,
Just a quick note from Dulles airport in Washington, D.C. We have arrived safely back on US terrain but have an unfortunate delay in getting to Greenville (just what you want after traveling for the last day or so). Hopefully we'll be in around 11:30 AM (instead of 10). I guess I can't go for even one flight without some type of delay (better here than in South Africa!...or maybe not!).

The last week of travel went well. Students really got into the bush camping and even had an "all bush" fashion show one night where four of the women competed for the best outfit made of only bush material. We also had a great visit to Khama Rhino sanctuary where we saw over a dozen rhinos (when Paul and I were here last time, we only saw glimpses of 2 of them at a distance). We also saw many eland, wildebeest and zebra at the watering holes for sundowners. Paul really enjoyed the "sock wrestling" tournament that broke out on one of our last nights (no I'm not kidding, he even beat a 19 year old! Managed to pull his sock off before his opponent got his...while rolling around in the dirt!).

Feeling a little fried in the brain after the 19 hour flight so I'll cut this short and hope to see you (or at least talk to you) in the near future.
Kristy

one week to go!

Greetings from Botswana! First internet opportunity in weeks and over 200 e-mails to respond to. Sorry if I haven’t written back to your individual e-mails. In a weeks time I can actually pick up the phone to have a chat or, even better, stop by to say hi (if you’re in Greenville)!

We have had a great time in Botswana thus far. Fortunately, the rain that had been bucketing down has stopped and we have enjoyed dry weather and cool nights as winter approaches. We started our trip in Ghanzi where we had interactions with the local bushmen both on a “bush walk” (showing us plants/herbs they use for medicinal purposes and plants/berries that they eat) and an evening of dancing and singing by the fire. From here we headed up to Tsodillo hills to hike and see the bushmen paintings on the rock cliffs. Crossing the delta on the rustic ferry in high flood waters was a thrill for the students and we spent a couple of nights in Seronga (where Paul was almost eaten by the dogs last July…but we didn’t visit those dogs this time).

In Seronga, we stayed at a community run lodge (giving the students a few nights off the ground), went out in mokoro boats (the dug out canoes) had great sightings of elephants and hippos, and then off to a village walk to see their clinic, primary school, kgotla (tribal space where the chief gives “strokes” for punishment if people misbehave or steal goats!). The students were fascinated by that! We crossed back across the delta via speed boat and spent the night at Sepupa Swamp Stop (since there was a line of 22 cars in front of the safari vehicles when they went to cross back over the delta via the ferry!).

After a quick stop in Maun to restock food we headed off to Moremi where we were inundated with flood waters and unable to make it to our original destination. After being stuck in the mud twice (once requiring all the students to get out and push which most thought was pretty cool and the second time 3 of 4 vehicles getting stuck for 2 and ½ hours in the mud), we decided to stay at a different destination. All was well. Nice animal sightings – impala, zebra, giraffe and the best lion sighting I’ve had in 2 years. We saw a pride of 5 lions including a small cub who was baiting the others to play with him. It was quite fun and we watched them for a good long time until the male got cheeky and decided to bite a hole in the spare tire on the back of Paul’s vehicle. Then we decided it was time to go.

We’ve been back in Maun for 3 days. Lots of programming here including a tour of the new hospital (which only has 14 doctors on staff for a hospital with 280 beds!), a lecture from the District AIDS Coordinator, student trips to the internet and shopping and a fun cruise out to Paul and my house at the ostrich farm for a pizza party and star gazing with the telescope last night.

We head off tomorrow for the final week of travel. By this time next week, we’ll be back in the states…hard to believe.
See or talk to you all soon.
Kristy

last day in South Africa

Tomorrow morning we depart for Botswana. It’s been a bit of a run without e-mail so my apologies if I haven’t responded to you directly. We’re staying at an Anglican run guest house in Joburg and have been on the run since our arrival Saturday night. Sunday we headed off to Rosebank, a local mall that has a HUGE African market on the entire second floor of their parking garage. While I’ve been here several times (Paul and I love to eat at the Thai/Vietnamese restaurant there called “Cranks” and see movies at their independent film theater), I’ve never been to the market. Sadly, I had to take another student to the doctors who had failed to mention to me that she had been coughing up green phlegm for several days. Yeah…I think it’s time to go to the doctor. So I didn’t get to go to the market or do much else, but eat at Cranks…which was delicious! Sunday evening a Furman alumni who now lives in Joburg and is involved in many citizen activist activities came to talk to us. I love Dale…he is so radical he was kicked out of the Communist party in South Africa. He is always quite challenging and inspiring to our students.

Monday we spent the full day at “Orange Farm” a community of deep poverty that has rallied together to create a variety of community oriented projects to earn money and survive. We visited their recycling plant (where glass, plastics and paper products are turned in for cash) and their day care center where the children recited the South African Bill of Rights for Children. Very poignant to hear kids reciting in unison how they have a right to shelter, food, water, an education as trenches are dug outside the building to put in plumbing (which they have been living without since they were established 10 years ago!). Our final visit that day was to a local talk radio station where our students got on the radio…that makes 2 media forms for 2 countries (they were photographed at a concert and in the paper in Namibia)…they’re hoping Paul can get them on TV in Botswana!

Tuesday we were off to Soweto, one of the biggest and most well known areas of Johannesburg. It is known particularly for the anti-apartheid violence that took place here prior to independence in 1994. Here we visited one of the biggest public hospitals in the world and then went off to a couple of very powerful museums dealing with the struggle of independence. We suffered a bit of cognitive dissonance when we stopped off at Gold Reef City for lunch, a big Casino situated right next to the Apartheid Museum. The irony of it was not lost on the students.

Wednesday was off to the capital of Pretoria to visit the outrageously ominous Vortrekker Monument built by the Boers in the 1940s and 1950s to commemorate their long trek and struggles with the English and Zulus. It’s huge. Overbearing. Kind of obnoxious. But my colleague, Erik, would be proud of how well the students worked to de-construct the narrative of the monument. Oh you would be so proud.

Last night we went to an African show called, “Umoja” which means “togetherness.” It used African music and dance to give an historical review leading up to today and the “togetherness” South Africa is now experiencing (not so sure about that last assumption as I sit in one of the most violent and dangerous cities in the world…there certainly isn’t a whole lot of “togetherness” between the South Africans and the Zimbabwean refuges…but maybe that wasn’t their point). The music and dance was entertaining if not a bit overwhelming and I think many of my young students saw more bare breasts than they have seen in their entire lives during the “native costume” section of the show. Others were impressed (or overwhelmed) by the African “booty” shaking that was part of the contemporary dance section. Wow! It gave a whole new meaning to “shake it if you got it.” It also reinforced why I am sometimes referred to as “scrawny” by African standards.

Today we visited a housing development program and then had to drop one of the students off at the airport who needed to depart early to get back to Washington for an important scholarship interview. A bit of a crisis occurred when it dawned me a half hour prior to her pick up that I still had her passport back in my suitcase at the guest house (45 minutes across town!). UGH! I can’t believe neither of us thought of it but we dashed back across town picked it up and sent her in the transport to the airport. At least I thought of it before I sent her to the airport. That would have been really bad.

To be honest, that is one of the things I’ve been struggling with in the last week or so. Having made the conscious decision not to have kids it is sometimes overwhelming to all of a sudden have 20 of them! And while we’ve been traveling for over 6 weeks they still don’t plan well…they don’t bring toilet paper, snacks, sun tan lotion and I think “what exactly do you have in your bag if you don’t have those things?” Anyway, we’re hoping they get a bit more common sense before we get to Botswana but I’m not counting on it.

So we head off tomorrow for Botswana. Sadly it has been raining like crazy there (still, even though we had pushed this part of the trip as late as possible to try to be “out” of rainy season). We’re hoping we don’t have 19 days of camping in the rain or getting stuck in the mud. But not much we can do about the weather. As they say in Africa… we’ll make a plan.

I’ll write when I can.
Love,
Kristy

Shembe sacred dance, hiking Giant's Castle and sexist battle ground advice

Greetings from Dundee! We have been on a rather fast-paced set of two night stays in a series of locations since I last wrote. First, in Pietermaritzburg we visited Hindu temples and attended a Shembe religious ceremony. While I’ve been to Hindu temples before I have never witnessed the blessing of a new car which involves having the priest circle the vehicle carrying a flaming pumpkin followed by the new owners. Limes are then placed in front of each of the four tires and the driver proceeds to drive back and forth over them until the priest says to stop. The curiousness of this only slightly paled in comparison to the giant pit near us which is filled with burning coals once a year for the annual fire walking ritual. Believers are said to “put themselves in a trance” in order to walk across it (probably 30 feet in length) without burning their feet.

The next day we learned about the Shembe religion, an African Independent Religion started by a prophet Isaiah Shembe. While never formally trained he is said to have had visions from God instructing him on how people should live a godly life. To be honest, we didn’t know what was in store for us when we were invited out to a Shembe service (which takes place all day on Saturdays). Arriving at the end of the ceremony, we were asked to take our shoes off and walk down a rocked filled muddy road (I wished I knew how to get in a trance because it hurt my little feet) where we were invited into what I will describe as a “worship warehouse.” While ceremonies are usually held outside the rain was coming so we were squished into a big open building (no rooms, seats, etc.) where we were seated on straw mats on the floor. Despite the fact that the building looked rather small from the outside, there were hundreds of people already seated on the ground happy to welcome us to their worship ceremony. Since it was the end of what had already been several hours of worshiping, they decided to show us some of their ceremonial sacred dances which involved only men and lots of high stepping foot stamping line dancing while dressed in white robes and animal skins, carrying sticks (see Shembe sacred dance photo attached). By the end of the two days, the social construction of sacredness was all too apparent.

Next we headed to Giant’s Castle an amazingly beautiful area of the Drakensburg Mountains where we took a couple of days to rest, relax and hike. I would strongly encourage anyone who travels to this part of the world to make a trip out to the Drakensburgs (translates into “dragon’s mountains”). The views are breath-taking and hiking is challenging but well worth the views when you make it to the top. The main wild life we saw was elands – large antelope-like creatures who look like really big cows. They are thought to have mythical powers by the bushmen and it is truly a rare sight to see them in the distance on the mountain side. In the two years I’ve been coming to Africa I think I might have seen one other one prior to this visit. We were also barked at by baboons and I made sure to walk with a rock to throw at them in case they got too close (I don’t love baboons…they have big teeth and thumbs, thus the ability to open things). At one point during the two days I was grading quizzes and one of them parked himself in front of the sliding glass door to my chalet. That’s one way to keep me inside grading!

Finally, last night and tonight we spent in Dundee where we visited battlefields all day. I had a vague recollection from the last trip that I didn’t really enjoy the battlefield experience but I couldn’t quite place why. I assumed that it was just too much discussion of Zulus and Anglos fighting or Zulus and Boers fighting…death, brutality, horn shaped attack patterns of Shaka Zulu…blah, blah, blah… but then once our guide started talking I remembered why it annoyed me last time…Pat, our guide, is a sexist pig. I won’t go on too long but the main message he emphasized to the “ladies” in our group was how we have to remember that we are “concentrated fire power” just like the loggerheads the Boers used to fend off the Zulus at Blood River. Not only does the analogy not work but he continued on to elaborate by saying, “You know how you ladies are. When you get ready to go out on a date you get all dressed up to lure in the men. You put on your fishnet stockings and stiletto heels and you are ‘concentrated fire power.’” Apparently Pat has dated…hookers. If this wasn’t offensive enough, he explained polygamy to us by saying to the guys in the group, “You know it really is a good idea. Think about what happens to women as they age and they’ve been popping out those babies they’re not quite the beautiful young thing they used to be before so you just get a younger one.” Ugh! Thanks to Ching (my colleague who isn’t even here anymore) we had a full day with Pat…3 battlefields and lots of sexist advice to give away! Lovely.

On that I’m off. We’re headed to Ulundi next where, last time, we were given a goat for sacrifice by the Zulu chief and I was called scrawny and told I would never get a Zulu man by the mayor. Perhaps with all the ice cream I’ve been eating I’ll be worthy this time (although I have a Botswana man so don’t really need a Zulu one!).
Hope you all are well.
Kristy