Finding Flattop

Day 46

8/18/09

We made our way to Ghanzi for a stop to visit the Bushman of Africa. If you’ve ever seen The Gods Must be Crazy, this is the people we are seeing. Bushman speak using clicks as some of their consonants. The bushman as a culture are some of the earliest inhabitants of Africa dating back at least 22,000 years. There are only a few thousand of them left and it appears they are going extinct. Bushman are nomadic hunter gatherers and move based on the need for food and water. As a culture they are hated by most Africans and are there is a high degree of prejudice against them. People don’t want them on their land and they are often treated like vermin. While the Botswana constitution provides protection, even the government pushes them around forcibly.

At first sight they are all short, no more than 5 ft with one being a little taller. Their skin while black has a distinct color difference. I’m not quite sure how to describe it as I’d say they are black but it has some sort of tint I’m sure it’s not true but my guess is maybe Polynesian, Asian, or Latin mix would create the look. The ladies are quite attractive with smooth complexions.

With a translator in tow they take us on a walk through the dry arid thorny bush. All the plants look pretty much the same to me and it’s amazing they can pick out the difference. They spend an hour or two digging up different plants explaining what they use the roots for from each plant. Listening to them speak with clicks inserted here and there the language sounds sensual. The roots of one plant are used for fertility and the roots of another are used as a contraceptive which stops a woman’s menstruation. There is another plant to alleviate sore muscles, one to treat urinary problems, another for headaches, another for the flu, and even one to stop nightmares. Depending on the condition they either chew the roots, boil them in water to make a tea, or grind it up into a powder and snort it. Information is passed on through elders as the children grow to maintain the knowledge.

They hand each of a small seed which looks similar to a sunflower seed and instruct us to place it under our tongues. After sitting in saliva for several seconds it creates a surprise pop forcing my tongue to the roof of my mouth. Its a tool they use to teach their children how to make the clicking sounds as it forces the tongue in a direction necessary to produce the appropriate sound.

In the evening the bushman entertain us for a couple hours with local songs and dance around the campfire. Another memorable night I’ll find hard to forget. How blessed I am to experience such a beautiful people up close and personal.

Next we are on our way to Namibia.

Day 40-45

8/14/09-8/17/09

We made it into Botswana and the government is concerned about the spread of foot and mouth disease, thus there are stops throughout the country where the truck is searched for any animal products and all passengers must rub all there shoes on a pad filled with caustic soda. I’m not really sure what the disease is and/or what shoes and animal products have to do with it other than I guess prevention of spreading it.

A nasty cold has been going around the truck and I’m one of the last to catch it. I’ve been sick for the past four days and ready to be over it. Sick enough that I’ve missed out on a few activities due to my desire for the comfort of the sleeping bag. Yellow boogers, sore throat, and in general feeling like a truck ran me over me.

Botswana has the strongest currency (Pula) in Africa due to it being a diamond mine, controlled mostly by the Debeers company. Interestingly there are no outward signs of it. I would have expected to see diamond galleries and stores. There are none. Despite the strong currency and large GDP the country has a negative growth rate and the life expectancy is only 33 years. I’m sure the exceptionally high 37% AIDS infection rate has something to do with it. As we’ve made it further south the roads continue to get better and it’s nice to have a smooth ride finally as there is only the occasional pothole.

We spent a couple nights at Thebe Safari Park where my cold set in full swing. I woke in the morning to forgo a park drive in Chobe National Park. Fortunately I timed my sickness well and everyone says I missed nothing and wished they had spent the morning sleeping in as well. While here we went on a river safari boat ride. Elephants, Hippos, and crocodiles are abundant grazing along the shore line as we slowly cruise the Namibia-Botswana border in a large pontoon boat watching the sunset silhouette the animals in the background. Peaceful and serene was the perfect way to spend a night while not feeling well.

There is water everywhere and yet the landscape is dry and arid. Brown yellow grass and trees cover the flat landscape as far as the eye can see mixed with marshy water flows. It’s almost an oxymoron or maybe it’s because it’s dry season. This vast flatland is home to the largest delta in the world. A delta is an area where water flows into it and doesn’t flow out. Water from mountains further north in Africa flows southward over a three month journey into the flatland’s forming a swamp-like environment called the Okavanga Delta. We stop in Maun for a night before setting out with locals for a night of bush camping in the delta.

We load into jacked up trucks for a three hour journey over dirt paths crossing numerous river streams which are just deep enough they come up to the base of the truck bed. We all think we’re going to get our stuff wet and fortunately don’t. Cramped from sitting packed into the back of a truck like Cubans on a life boat we arrive nearly frozen from the frosty early morning temperature to the swampy marshy delta edge. Lined along the shore edge are dozens of Mokoros, wooden canoe like boats, made from hollowing out a log. These Mokoros are different than the ones in Uganda. They are long, narrow, and sit very shallow in the water. Locals fill them with stacks of reeds and we snuggle two people and our stuff in an almost laying down position into each. For two hours we lay almost motionless keeping our center of gravity as low as possible to prevent tipping as the morning cold turns into sweltering heat. The water is an inch or less from the top edge of the mokoro and on a few occasions some seeps over the edge as we shift our weight searing us with cold wherever it touches. A local stands in the back of the mokoro using a long wooden stick to pole (push) us through the grassy marshy reed filled labyrinth waterways. Some areas are so dense with grass and reeds as we are poled through the wet reeds and grass drape across our legs and arms as we pass. Arriving at a dry patch of land I know we are in the middle of nowhere and feel like we’ve landed in the remotest location. The only thing comparable to me would be to take boat into the middle of the Everglades for a night. The entire experience is surreal.

We setup camp and go for a safari walk in this remote African delta. We encounter dozens of giraffe, gazelle, impala, baboons, zebra, hippos, and a couple elephants as we tromp on foot through the grassy thorny brush in search of what’s out there. The guides are amazing. They recognize every footprint,

broken twig, and feces along the way. That or they’re just making it up as they go, but I don’t’ think so. The exercise is much needed as we spend most our time on the truck and have had little since the start. I thoroughly enjoyed seeing the wildlife from this perspective as it seems more natural, however I find it intriguing that we are not able to get close to any of the animals. As we approach they continue to move off an even distance. When we’re in the truck we get up right next to them. I wonder what causes the difference.

The evening is spent in a star filled sky around the campfire while the local polers sing and dance in a local dialect for hours as the sounds of the wild fill the air in the background. It’s a mystical and I wish I could spend another night here.

We make the reverse trip back the next morning and say goodbye to our poler guides and set out for a scenic flight over the delta. My buddy, Dave Doble, would love being a pilot here as the flight rules seem to be pretty lax. We load into a couple very new looking Cessna Caravans and soon discover this isn’t the typical lazy dazy scenic flight. The highest altitude we get above the delta is 500 ft and most of it is under 300 ft with sections only a 100 ft or less cruising around 130 knots. At this low altitude the pilots play a cat and mouse chase diving low cutting across the tree tops then steeply clime for a few seconds and dive back down creating a few seconds of stomach drop and floating sensation. Yippee, I love it! Next up, close fly byes. While at the same altitude of about 300 ft the two planes fly perpendicular to each other converging at a high speed. I must say even my sense of adventure was slightly tested when it appeared we’d be colliding, we suddenly dip to pass several feet below the wheels of the other plane. The hour long flight was a blast for all and a highlight for many. Even with the pilots adventure slant we where able to see the structure of the vast delta system which is quite beautiful along with numerous animals including, buffalo, elephants, giraffe, and hippos.

Most of us on the truck are experiencing extremely dry skin on our feet. Dry to the point it’s creating cracking and bleeding. Not a pleasant feeling. I’ve been loading hand cream on them to help only a little. Foot and mouth disease, nah. I think it’s the extremely dry air and all the sand.