After two long days of driving, this morning we left our camoflague van behind and traveled in more appropriate modes of transport for the region – first by motor-boat and then by traditional mokoro (dugout canoe). The Okavango Delta is the only inland lagoon in the world – an amazing marshy expanse filled with beautiful birds, hippos, elephants, and crocodiles.
We enjoyed breakfast in the lodge while watching the sun rise over the delta – what a way to start the morning! We climbed in a motorboat for a 40-minute ride to an island in the delta where our mokoros and rowers were waiting. Mokoros carry three people, two seated passengers and one “driver.” The driver stands in the rear of the canoe and uses a long wooden pole to propel and steer the mokoro through the reeds and twisting channels through the delta. Traditional mokoros are hand-carved from wood – I was surprised to see ours looked a bit shiny. One of the guides explained they now use fiberglass, because the wood in the traditional canoes rots very quickly and it’s hard to find trees large enough to carve the canoe.
This was one of my favorite parts of the trip – the water was amazingly clear, the day was gorgeous, and I felt like we had the entire delta to ourselves. I shared a mokoro with Greg, the Australian teaching math in Azerbaijan, and our driver happened to be the leader of the group, so our mokoro got to go in front.
We didn’t see any hippos but we did see a number of elephants, which is unusual – our guide said we were a very lucky group. The coolest moment of the day was when a male elephant emerged from the grasses on an island fairly close to our mokoro – he looked straight at us and flapped his ears (a sign he’s angry) before retreating back in to the grass. So cool.
The boat land / launch area was on a little island with all these gorgeous hanging trees - for some reason, it reminded me of the little secluded island area where the "Kiss the Girl" song from the Little Mermaid takes place.
One full week I’ve been back from Namibia and in some ways the entire experience is starting to feel like a distant but extremely detailed dream.
I’m far behind on my blog updates – and apologies for the delay. Amid the excitement of coming home, I managed to come down with a horrid bug of some unidentified variety, but it’s kept me under the weather and in the bathroom for the past four days. Go figure. I drink tap water and eat everything from zebra to crocodile the three months in Africa and get violently sick a few days after coming home. I’ve been on Cippro for two days and am starting to feel human and energetic again.
I have much more to write, including overall thoughts and reflections on the experience, but I’ll finish writing about my safari first, since I started typing out those entries before I left. More to come…
I didn’t sleep well that first night. I slept in socks, which I hate to do, but my feet were so cold they hurt, and it kept me up most of the night. We had a 5am wake-up call to pack up camp and hit the road, so we also took down our tents in the dark. While waiting to heat up the tea kettle for breakfast, our group bonded while engaging in some spastic aerobics to try to warm up, including the jumping jacks and the “penguin” (shoulder shrugging with straight arms and hands pointed out while doing small knee-bends).
Driving through western Botswana gives one a new sense of what it means to be rural. We spent several hours driving through communal farm land which, unlike commercial farm land, does not have fencing to keep the animals inside. Periodically, Manni (our nickname for our guide Immanuel) would honk and slow down to wait for a group of cattle or goats to cross the road or move away from the shoulder of the road. After one particularly close encounter with a large bull, we swerved off the road and I’m pretty sure the tires on the left side of the van left the pavement. It was pretty scary – even in our big van, those horns could do some damage. After pulling the car back on the road, Manni got on the intercom and said, in his heavily accented voice, “We have a nice beef steak for lunch.”
We eventually reached some sort of cattle boundary perimeter – you aren’t allowed to bring any meat across the lines because of foot and mouth disease. To protect against transmission of the disease, I guess, we all got out of the car and wiped our feet on a wet mat. Hmm.
We were delighted to arrive at a small town near our camp just after lunch, where we met the owner who came to pick us up in a massive truck with four-wheel drive. Because of the flooding and the sandy terrain, our truck wouldn’t be able to make it from the town to the camp site.The lodge / reception area was stunning – a large wooden deck overlooked the peaceful, crystal waters of the Okavango Delta. After some coffee and tea on the deck, Manni led us on a “bush walk”. We followed a pair of fresh elephant tracks for a while, to no avail, but did see a lot of beautiful birds. I had no idea elephants could be so destructive! It looked like we were following a tornado trail – entire trees snapped in half, even a small abandoned settlement where two of the houses were partially smashed by an elephant. Some of the group saw some type of rare snake, but I hid at the back of the group behind Matthew, our camping assistant… no thanks. This next picture is of me and Vipka, the Namibian-German girl studying to be a vet, and my tent-buddy for the trip.
Sunset, drinks by the water front and a dinner of spaghetti Bolognese in our bellies, we all dressed a bit warmer that night and slept quite peacefully our first evening in Botswana.
Over a quick Puccini House breakfast of yogurt and toast, Brooke and I said our goodbyes and spent the last few minutes stuffing supplies / goodies in one another’s bags. Her boyfriend Chad flew in from Minnesota the previous evening and they were heading off the same morning for a 14-day do-it-yourself tour de force of Namibia. It was a happy coincidence we left the same morning – we’ve grown pretty close the past few weeks and I would have been a little lonely here without her. Knowing I didn’t pack many winter / camping clothes, Brooke gave me a knit hat to wear – which ended up coming in really handy. I didn’t have any “practical” items for her, but I wanted her to enjoy some good music during the drive, and gave her my new collection of Namibian CDs (Gazza, Winnie Khumalo, and The Dogg).
The Wild Dog van was larger than I expected – the 14 people fit comfortably on the bus, and the large windows let us enjoy the beautiful views and some warm sunlight. The itinerary for today was a long drive east on the Trans Kalahari Highway – one of the major highways in Namibia, but you won’t see a car more than once every ten minutes, if that. We stopped for groceries and gas in Gobabis, the same town we visited on our weekend trip to Harnas, and one of the main livestock farming centers of Namibia.
Equipped with some plum ice tea and a Cadbury rum raisin chocolate bar, I was ready to hit the road after our allotted 20 minutes in town. Still sitting on the bus nearly 90 minutes later, our group was starting to feel hot and bothered. We were missing one of the Dutch couples, Bjorn and **, but I will refer to them as the money couple from now on. They did not have US dollars, which we needed for the border crossing in to Zambia, and for some reason, decided to search for a bank in town known for livestock farming without telling our guides. They showed up to the bus apologetic, but blamed the bank’s inefficiency and lack foreign currency for the delay – I think they forgot we were in rural Namibia? All that waiting and still no US dollars.
Back on the road, we quickly resumed our good spirits and soon reached the border with Botswana. We became quite familiar with the “border song and dance” over the next few days. First, you park the van, enter a small building, fill out a form to leave Namibia, wait in line, get a stamp. You drive maybe 400 meters to the next parking lot, fill out a different form to enter Botswana, wait in line while two employees at the station mill about while only one looks at passports (regardless of the line size), and you eventually get your passport stamped.
I was a little nervous about my visa and my stomach dropped a little bit when the large Botswana border guard placed my passport face down on his table and looked up at me with a stern face. Oh no, I thought, I’m going to get deported. Everyone in front of me in line had their forms stamped with no conversation or eye contact… All of a sudden he broke in to a toothy grin (half filled with gold teeth) and said, “OBAMMMMMMMMMMMMAAAAAAAA!” Oh thank goodness. I smiled back and said “Oh yes, OBAMA!!” He asked, “When do you go back to US?” stamped my passport and smiled again. Everyone here loves Obama!
After our grocery delay, we arrived at camp after dark. Not only was it dark, but it gets darn cold in the desert at night. Wearing two pairs of sweatpants, a tank top under two long sleeve shirts, a sweater, and Brooke’s hat, I still felt cold. Our guides made a delicious dinner over the campfire – a creamy chicken curry stew, mixed vegetables, and rice. While dinner was cooking, we heard some clapping and singing near the reception hut. Another tour group had apparently arranged for some tribal dancing as evening entertainment – no one seemed to mine Ellen, Mi-Mi, and I also watching the show. Ellen is an American who has been working in Congo for the past three years with wildlife conservation and Mi-Mi is a Danish student who has been working in Cape Town for the past six months.
The campground had “open air” bathrooms, basically a three-sided structure made of reeds without a roof, but with flush toilets and running water inside AND a towel to wipe your hands. Normally two out of four and you feel pretty lucky (toilet paper, functioning flush, hand soap, and something to wash your hands). To avoid an awkward encounter, you usually needed to sing, hum, or clap while on the toilet, which is a little awkward. What song would you sing on the toilet?
(The pictures are taken from the bridge next to Wernhil Park Mall - where I buy my groceries - just around the corner from Puccini House)
One week from today I'll be home. Before I do the recap of my 10-day adventure, I thought I'd mention how excited I am to get back to the US. Part of me wishes I had more time - I know I could spend another 12 weeks here and still enjoy it, but a big part of me is itching to go home!
A few things in particular really stand out - my housing situation being at the top of the list. I am excited to go back to my parents' "real" house and set myself up in a "real" apartment on campus, and know that any mess in the kitchen is my own! I go back and forth between feeling like a traveling teenager (I carry my shower equipment in a caddy - I'm staying in a hostel after all) and a quasi-legal professional.
I'm excited to see my family and friends. Three months apart isn't all that unusual, but it feels longer here.
I'm excited to feel safe again. I feel a lot more comfortable in the city than I did when I first moved here, but I still get dressed most mornings thinking "How can I minimize my chances of getting mugged?" and putting anything I need to carry to work in a clear plastic shopping bag.
I'm excited to run outside!
I'm excited for extended hours of daylight and summer nights. I'm excited for our garden vegetables and fresh corn on the cob every day. I'm excited to eat my mom's cooking and drink good beer with my brother and sister. I'm excited to tell stories and share pictures of my Namibian escapades.
What an amazing ten days. I won’t be able to do justice to the adventures and amazement of my Delta / Falls trip, but I’ll do my best in the next week to provide a rough overview. For now, I’m happy to be back at Puccini with a hot shower, no mosquitoes, and a bed I don’t have to roll up in the morning.
I’ll begin with a picture from the ending – here’s a picture of my traveling companions on our last night together in Livingstone, Zambia. Our group almost looked like a family – 11 out of the 14 travelers had blond hair and blue eyes. We had two couples and a mother-daughter from Holland, two friends and a couple from Denmark, an Australian teaching in Azerbaijan, an American working in Congo, a German girl studying to be a vet, and me. Great group led by two great guides – Manni (short for Emmanuel) and Matthew, both Namibian (and Ovambo – I was proud of myself for recognizing they were speaking Oshivambo to each other).
Each day was an adventure, but here are a few of my favorite moments of the entire trip: - spotting a grouchy male elephant while riding in a mokoro (dug-out canoe) - - terrifying but awesome - waking up in the middle of the night to hear a hippo munching the grass in our campsite - getting stopped on the road by a Zambian policeman with an AK-47 to ‘request’ donations for local church - being serenaded by a Botswana immigration / border agent for being an ‘American Girl’ - enjoying a creatively prepared “Bush Apple Pie” for desert over the campfire – our guides were wonderful cooks - sipping an amarula martini while watching the sunset over the mist from Victoria Falls with a Dutch television star - breaking in to a spontaneous rap about fifty dollar bills with Ellen after a failed attempt to exchange our Zambian kwacha - ignoring my fear of heights and braving a micro-flight over Victoria Falls
This was one of my favorite parts of the trip – the water was amazingly clear, the day was gorgeous, and I felt like we had the entire delta to ourselves. I shared a mokoro with Greg, the Australian teaching math in Azerbaijan, and our driver happened to be the leader of the group, so our mokoro got to go in front.
We didn’t see any hippos but we did see a number of elephants, which is unusual – our guide said we were a very lucky group. The coolest moment of the day was when a male elephant emerged from the grasses on an island fairly close to our mokoro – he looked straight at us and flapped his ears (a sign he’s angry) before retreating back in to the grass. So cool. 
The boat land / launch area was on a little island with all these gorgeous hanging trees - for some reason, it reminded me of the little secluded island area where the "Kiss the Girl" song from the Little Mermaid takes place. 
