Safari Journal (part 4: to each their own)

Safari journal (part 4: to each their own)-

After crossing into Botswana things slowed down a bit. There are long distances between towns which should make for a nice crusing speed on the highway, but momentum is hampered by the absence of livestock fencing allowing cows and goats to roam as they may, sometimes right in the middle of the road. This forces vehicles, ours for example, to a slow crawl. To throw a wrench (tire iron) into our already slow pace we get a flat. After a fruitless attempt to loosen the lugnuts on our own we inch along to a nearby town and head to a tire shop. As I’m standing outside the truck another car pulls into the service station. The older man, maybe late 60’s, gets out staring and walking my way. As he gets closer I realize it’s my tattoo he’s interested in. I shoot him a “hello”, but he doesn’t hear it. All of a sudden I feel like a well endowed woman in a low cut dress “um excuse me, my eyes are up here”. He reaches for my arm and gives it a little finger swipe, when it doesn’t rub off he applies more pressure and uses his whole hand. “What is it?” He asks, “is it medicine? Does it heal you?”… “Uh no, it’s just a artwork, just a design”… “You had somebody do that to you?”… “yeah, I asked for it” He looks me in the eye for the first time, says “huh” and walks inside to get his tire fixed.

That night we stayed in a small village with a photogenic tribe of local San people. I always have uncomfortable mixed feelings when taking pictures of people. Capturing the beauty of a person and attempting to tell their story through a snapshot versus stealing a piece of their soul by doing so. My first experience with this was 5 years ago in Thailand. We visited a small village outside of Chiang Mai where the women wear the neck stretching rings. Here it dawned on me that the beautiful 3-4 year old girl with the sad look was on display. A tourist attraction. A zoo exhibit. Since that time I have always been reluctant to take pictures of people. I never sneak it and always politely ask first. More times than not that creates a loss of the moment as they pose for the picture. Either way I’ll always accompany it with a small tip. I’ve gotten to the point where I have a loose change stash set aside and accessible just for this reason. In Namibia the Himba tribe we visited welcomed any pictures and wanted nothing for them. Instead I bought 2 hideously carved giraffes along with some beaded bracelets to show my support. The San people we stayed with in Botswana performed a traditional dance at night and took us for a bush walk the following morning. It was an enjoyable, albeit staged, experience. Since we just made a border crossing I had no Botswana Pula at all yet. I got rid of all my Namibian Dollars as well as South African Rand. I look in my bag and dig out a potpourri of mixed currency from Indonesia, Singapore and Malaysia doing nobody in Botswana any good. I’m searching, I’m searching boom, an unopened pack of cigarettes. Now comes an obvious moral dilemma. I reluctantly hold up the pack with a questioning glance. Their eyes bulge with excitement and all of a sudden I’m the new village hero. I gladly hand over the cigarettes and share the global currency with my new friends.

On the 15th day we reach the famed Okavango Delta- the thing I was most looking forward to and main reason I ended up booking this tour. At 17,000 sq km (11,000 sq mi) Okavango is the worlds largest inland delta. A labyrinth of lagoons, lakes and hidden channels that’s home to an estimated 200,000 large mammals. It’s arguably the best predator action of anywhere in Africa. We have 2 days here and I was exited for them. The first day, with an early start, we take a 4×4 three hours into the heart of the delta and reach a small village where we boarded mokoros (traditional wooden canoes, pushed by long sticks) for the remaining 2 hours to camp. Among the things you do not want to hear 3 minutes into a 2 hour boat ride in crocodile and hippo infested waters is a your canoe pushman behind you bailing water. I turn around and see a makeshift water bottle bucket fighting against a hole that’s been patched with clumped up grass of all things. I look at him and say “are we going to be able to make it or you think we might sink” the response I got- “I don’t know” another thing you don’t want to hear in that situation. We would go 10-15 minutes and bail water, up the delta a little more, park the mokoro in the middle of 10 foot tall grasslands that looks like Disneyland to a croc, bail some more water and continue on. I ask “there’s crocodiles in these waters right?”… “I don’t know”. He doesn’t know! Well that’s weird, knowing one way or the other is something you should be able to expect from this villager. I think I know what that means, but say something else to be sure- “if you need me to bail some water just hand me the bucket, ok?”… “I don’t know” was his response. Whew got it, this guy knows one phrase in English. I took this as a positive sign that maybe he had confidence in not sinking after all. We make it to camp with boat (and limbs) fully intact.

There are rumblings among the group when we pull up. A few people are unhappy with the simplicity of the campsite and heat of the day. The vocal minority is creating some tension attempting to convert others into their point of view. The proposal is to turn right around and go back to our previous camp where there is a bar, cold drinks and a swimming pool. Worst of all is that the group of people this is all originating from is my own wolf pack! The young guns. None of the oldies have any problem with the situation and neither do I. When asked what I felt about it I didn’t at first even understand the question- “What do I feel about bush camping? What do you mean, that’s exactly what I signed up for. In fact I was a little disappointed with how NICE the campsites have been, I’m happy to be finally out in the wild” I let them know how I expected to be digging my own crap holes the past 2 weeks. I have been carrying around 2 rolls of toilet paper in anticipation of it. I couldn’t believe we were staying places with HOT showers. I told them my longest duration without a hot shower this year was 51 days. That was a real number. Between Nepal, India and Sri Lanka I had none. When I got to Singapore I forgot what a hot shower was like and then realized how long it had been. I counted backwards from there and got the number 51. Our campgrounds on this trip not only had hot water, one even had granite freakin countertops. Granite countertops!! I couldn’t believe it. And now people were complaining that we were actually CAMPING on our camping trip? And then the other complaint- it was hot. You’ve got to be kidding me. We’re talking about Africa right? Generations of hardships, the Sahara, the Kalahari, drought, famine, plagues? That Africa? No shit it’s hot, IT’S AFRICA!! That’s like visiting Hawaii and complaining of going to the beach because you get too much sand in your belly button. Anyway when asked what I wanted to do I made it clear I couldn’t have been happier where I was at and wouldn’t be leaving unless the entire group agreed to it. I understood that it was hot, but I expected it to be. I only wish I brought more water so I didn’t have to drink boiled water from the delta is all.

That evening at 5:00 while we were preparing for our first activity- a nature walk with the villagers, the disgruntled few were determined to remain disgruntled. Getting mad is an impulse, staying mad a decision. They stayed mad. In protest they stayed back from the nature walk and sulked at camp. I knew the walk had the potential for some excitement when the first 20 minutes was spent explaining what to do if various animals charged us. “An elephant- hold until you hear from us, the first charge will probably be just to intimidate, if his ears go back and head down we could be in trouble. If I give the cue run as fast as possible into the bush and if he starts to get close take your shirt off and through it in the other direction. With any luck he’ll follow the shirt. Keep in mind there are no injuries from elephant attacks, only fatalities”…. “A lion- as much as it will go against every instinct in your bones you must hold your ground and remain perfectly still. You may have to hold still for several hours with a lion staring you down a few feet away. Remember do not attempt to move”…. “A buffalo- they are the most unpredictable of all animals. If a buffalo charges then it’s really bad, run as fast as you can in a zig zag motion and head for the nearest tree to climb. Try to keep an ear out for the guides instructions, but we’ll be running as well.” Got it! I’m ready, let’s do it! The briefing was all a precaution since this was a “nature” walk and we weren’t expected to encounter many if any animals. This turned out not to be the case as we came across tons of zebras, a few warthogs, a heard of elephants and a group of 6 buffaloes. We were never in a dangerous position, but there was a tense moment when as we were attempting to back away from the buffaloes they would mirror our movements. We would walk 20 yards parallel and they would do the same, we’d turn and retrace the other direction and they followed. This went on about 15 minutes until we finally backed way off and went the long way around. To that point all the game viewing had been from the comfort and safety of a huge truck. It’s a different experience entirely on foot. The next morning we had a game walk scheduled where we would actively stalk animals. Again we came across tons of varied game activity all over the delta. We hear the unmistakable sound of hippo groans in the distance and make our way there. [fun fact- hippos account for the most deaths to humans of any other African animal] We get to a waterhole and see from a distance what looked like about a dozen hippo heads watching our movements. I know that hippos are surprisingly fast creatures so when we are a good 150 ish yards away I still have some comfort. When our guide tells us to take off our shoes so we can wade through some marsh to get closer? Not so confident anymore. With shoes in hand we stand just off the waterhole about 20 yards from the massive animals who were transfixed on us like they had never seen a tattoo before. At closer inspection the count was 23 sets of hippo eyes on us. To that point that was the wildlife thill of the trip for me. It was surpassed only a few minutes later when as we left the waterhole we stumble upon a family of 4 elephants. Close, but not uncomfortably close we kept our distance and snapped some photos. Through a large leafy bush just in front of where we were standing I see movement. I look to the guide and he doesn’t notice it. I pull him over to my vantage point and tell him I think there might be an elephant behind there. He leans around to take a look and tenses up immediately. A massive male elephant comes walking around the bush and is no more than 10 yards from us. The guide spins around to us and yells to us in a whispering voice “get out of here, get out of here!” Everyone except one girl backs away quickly, but calmly, the girl bolts in a sprint. They guide no longer whispering yells to her “STOP WHERE YOUR AT!” Our cover is blown, the elephant has definitely taken notice of us now. Back in an intense whisper we follow the guides instructions. “Everyone remain calm, do not run until I tell you to run, if you run he will find us threatening and may charge, back away slowly and quietly”. We made it back to camp and had a story to tell. I’m reminded that no matter how calm and confident I am personally, much like scuba diving and mountaineering, when dealing with wild animals you are only as strong as your weakest link. If I ever go back for a game hunt on foot I’ll be damn sure they aren’t any jumpy German chicks in my group. After things calmed down a bit the guide comes over to me exhausted with a simple question; “do you think I can have one of your cigarettes”?

Bob

P.S. The 4 unhappy campers paid a villager extra money to leave and made it back a day early to watch movies, go swimming and eat pizza.