A post for Marissa and any one else interested in a Monkeys blue balls (PG 13)

Yes it is true monkeys have blue balls. And some, as this one, like to check and make sure they are still there. This does give new meaning to the term blue balls. In this case (ahem) it is a sign of dominance. Only the dominant males (obviously males) have them. I guess in all species the males need to have some sort of way to prove their manly hood. Or it proves most of my girlfriends and my theories that men are not that far down the chain from the monkey (ape).

To clarify why this is for Marissa, she seems to like monkeys a lot. However I am uncertain as to weather she specifically likes blue balled monkeys.

I am here because....

I realize it’s been some time since I have updated here, and I apologize, we’ve been very busy in the Okavango Delta! Imagine that. We had to take an unexpected trip into Maun for yet again more vehicle repairs, we needed a new rear diff. I now have a wonderful, unintended through knowledge of how a diff operates and it’s purpose in the vehicle running smoothly. I’ve posted a rather facetious and funny (if I do say so myself) post to this effect on the Earth-touch site, click here to read it and all about Maun scrap yards I am sure you will find it very enlightening.

When in Maun we stay in a little cottage with flushing toilets (which I must point out the flush handle is on the opposite side here and throws me every time as does getting into the vehicle, I still walk to the wrong side) and full running (indoor) showers. It is a welcome relief but the novelty wares off quickly and I miss my sunset showers. Maun is lacking in things to do and one bores quickly. My entertainment is watching the donkeys, (Jessica would love it) goats, and people share the roads, sidewalks and I imagine some homes.














Friday rolls in and we were finally back in camp much to my relief. Anxious to get back into the African wild I forgot one minor detail. That now wonderfully beautiful well put together diff of which I just love (not) had to be installed back into the vehicle. Hence another day not out in the African wild but you guessed it, doing vehicle maintenance. I was hoping it wasn’t over yet I was just getting into it. We are on a roll why stop now?

Graham spent Saturday putting the diff in, greasing prop shafts of re-greasing the bearings and other general and always necessary maintenance. I helped by passing him the scalpels and absorbing yet more information that I hadn’t asked for or nor wanted. I got my hands mildly greasy and dirty. What joy.

All this shop talk over the last week has brought the beautiful impact the bush has had on me to the forefront. Eventually getting into the car and making our way to our wild home was immensely gratifying.

The road out of town quickly turns to dirt, and we cross through the buffalo fence. So named for it’s original purpose to prevent buffalo from ranging southward out of the delta during the wet season and thus coming into contact with cattle herds and contrary to keep the cattle out of the delta grasslands, and of course to fend off disease such as foot and mouth and sleeping disease.

There is a stark contrast between the landscape on either side of the fence. On the southern side the ground is bare, light grey dust and sand. On the north side there is grass, trees, and dense scrub which was a lush green when I arrived and as we head into winter and the dry season it has changed to a light brown or yellow with only a few brush strokes of color left in some flowers sporadically scattered throughout providing a stunning contrast when looking out into the landscape. Crossing through this fence calms me to depths of my soul. I settle back in my seat, feet on the dash and take a deep breath in filling my senses with the sweet smells, sights and sounds of the Delta. The first impala we see makes me smile, Impala run ramped and there are many of them, so I think we tend to take them for granted but when I see that first Impala beyond the buffalo fence I am reminded of their importance and beauty and they alert me that I’ve entered the Delta and am on my way home. Going the opposite way, it’s the random donkeys and goats in the road that alert me that I’ve arrived in Maun, not as lovely.

Shortly there after we see elephant, to which we often refer to as ‘ele’, wart hogs, and hippos. Our game drive home pleases me greatly.

Three and a half hours later we arrive in camp, and I feel thankful for all that it is. The sweet sounds of the Rio and Keita’s tiny little voices ring out, and the familiar faces and smiles of Andy, Brad, Jason, Franette and Prika and I am home. Albeit exhausted and covered in dust from the drive, I let out a sigh in comfort. I can’t wait to shower outside by the fading light of the sunset.

It is when I go to bed and rise this morning that all that I missed collides. I lie in bed and listen to the laugh of the hippos, the universal song of the night insects and crickets, and I try to settle into my book, but natures lullaby rocks me to sleep in no time.

I wake shortly after to the sound of something rumbling around in the bush, not heavily, just some grass brushing around so I assume a hyena or something of that size. I sit up to listen and look outside, and I see the unmistakeable silhouette of an elephants ears waving in an out looking in the direction of the tent. The silhouette is so dark that it could easily be mistaken for wonderful dream. The resounding outline of his immense frame makes it’s way across the path to my tent not three or four feet away from my front door. It’s pitch dark out its late at night and this enormous animal makes no sound as it walks. I always expect the earth to drum out a thunderous rumble under their feet, but mother earth doesn’t even seem to register the weight. They are gentle giants and walk as if not to disturb any creature in it’s vicinity from it’s slumber. They are the largest and oldest living creature on earth. Perhaps this is why they are so gentle with her, mother earth, with their uncanny skills preserving her, they appreciate her for her worldly wonder and respect her beauty, we can learn a lot from this wise old animal. They weigh over two tons, and can step on a twig and not break it. Not a single spec of dust stirs from the desert floor as they walk. If I closed my eyes I would not even have known of his presence. In many cultures the elephant is a symbol of power, wisdom, energy and strength, this resonates within me at this moment and brings out such raw emotions as the site of an Elephant always seems to do.

I woke at dawn as I do all mornings in Moremi to the morning sunshine and the ballad of all the Delta birds singing in course; the Francolins, Woodland Kingfishers, Starlings, Babblers (these always make me laugh), Ground Hornbills, Red and Yellow billed Hornbills an orchestra that seems to be conducted by the gentle hoot of the Giant Eagle Owl.

While a week in Maun touring scrapyards wasn’t exactly enlightening for me at the time, leaving the bush and the return home was a reminder as to why I am here, to cling to nature, participate in this environment, blend in with the magnificent animals, gain friendships and knowledge, a better understanding of myself and mankind,and of course look for the lions, a reminder to me that we are merely humans, living in the wild where ever we are, and how privileged I am to be able to bring the the magnificence and wonderment of the Delta and all that it is to you; my family and friends.

And now I must do a pitch, (you can take the girl out of the corporate but you can’t take the corporate out of the girl) please go to the Earth-Touch site now and often to follow what we are doing here in Moremi, follow the lions and everything else we meet along the way. And please do share this with all of your friends, things (and people) are only successful because of the help from others (we need numbers!) so help make us famous! ;-) Cartel I know you are busy with exams and I do wish you lot's of luck, but get those western academics logged on will ya! Even if through facebook! Not to mention this early mid life career crisis and change is expensive so I need to become famous so I can earn more and get my much anticipated promotion from assistant to Camera girl/writer extraordinaire (once mum and Graham get on the grammar and spelling issues, hey I deliver the content and entertainment, once famous thanks to you; I will hire an editor. Marissa stand by). Thanks all!

Guided tour of the Maun automotive establishments - 09:34 am
15 Apr 2009
By Penny Light


On our recent trips into Maun, I have yet to have time to explore the village. This is mostly because errands, admin and purchasing supplies seem to take a very long time to get done here. I am after all on Africa time, as I am often reminded by Graham when my patience runs thin. My north American ‘instant gratification’, ‘always in a rush’ and ‘can I have that to go with fries please’ mindset must be readjusted. This is a work in progress.

This trip into Maun was last minute. As mentioned, we needed to get the rear diff repaired. Understanding that we would have to wait for a part to be found I had thought it might be nice to explore Maun properly and was excited to do so. When the mechanic that we work with couldn’t get the part from a friend of a friend of a friend of his, we had to take matters into our own hands.

Graham informed me that ‘we will now tour Maun’. I smiled (read: grimaced) and nodded, knowing full well that this was not going to be the tour of Maun I was hoping for. I sit here now with an in-depth knowledge of Maun scrap yards, mechanic shops, car part, car swap, car wash, car wrecking, car spares and any other manner of automotive shops imaginable. I am also becoming regretfully knowledgeable in the art of mechanics. (Zen and and the art of film truck maintenance) I now have extensive theoretical knowledge of how a diff operates. Our vehicle specifically has a 10:37 pinion to crown-wheel ratio (not a 9:37 or a 10:41 or a 9:40 or any other for that matter) I am painfully aware that one has to count the number of splines. (Yes that is correct - I said “splines”.) The number of splines and ratio needs to match up otherwise the pinion (yes, I said “pinion") won’t fit. This is important. Apparently.

Graham let me have lunch which was a good thing as the brain needs food to function. Abbreviated Mechanics 101 was starting to overwhelm me. Over lunch I had time to reflect on why I am here in Africa. Apparently it has less to do with recording the beauty and majesty of wild Africa, and more to do with becoming a mechanic. Who knew. Over lunch Graham also has time to think, to scan his mind as to where we might find this part without having to order a new one from South Africa and wait three to four working days to get it. Another scrapyard! I grow giddy with anticipation.

My brain fed, Graham heads to another scrapyard, dragging a less-than-jubilant me along with him. We drive in past large protective gates, park next to a completely crumpled self-drive safari vehicle, move on through an office of sorts, through another door and into a huge yard of yes, scrapped cars. Who would have thought? Through another door into a huge warehouse of parts. Just parts. Parts piled on parts, piled on shelves, slung over rafters. Dirty, dusty parts. Could be art, so I take a photo. Nope, still just car parts.

It is not long before I hear Graham shriek like a teenage girl at a Hanson Brothers concert. I make my way to the aisle (these seem to provide some meagre order to this warehouse) and there he is. Big smile. Happily clutching a grubby piece of metal. What a proud face, I think to myself, he must be very pleased with himself. And he is. We make our way to the counter where we will now count, recount, count again, measure, fit and compare. Someone says, “aren’t you going to clean it to make sure there are no hairline fractures?” Who said that? It was me. I am afraid of this new found knowledge of mine. I have absorbed information that I have no desire to posses and am afraid I am being brain-washed here.

So, the point of this all is that we have eventually found the requisite part and, all going according to plan (ha ha ha), will be back in camp by tomorrow evening with a new-found appreciation for the workings of differentials (My father would be so proud.) and a greater appreciation for our wild home.

Lion sleeps 1 foot from my car

This guy came sauntering past me about one foot from the car, and plopped himself down beside the back wheel. The look on Graham's face is just before he said, "shhhh sit still and be quite". He slept by the rear tire for 45 min therefore we were unable to move the car, let alone ourselves. My heart raced as my butt fell asleep. When he woke, he sauntered right past me again, pausing beside the car, then kept going. Note that the car has no doors, just sayin'.... what an adrenaline rush!

Happy Birthday Destin

Riding shotgun is so passe, it’s all about riding rooftop in Moremi - a shout out to everyone!

I prefer to ride rooftop it brings me closer to the sky that is somehow already closer to me here. My unobstructed view of the vast African landscape, the open air I breath in, sweet smells of sage, wild lemon, dew on the grass in the early morning. To be able to reach out and touch the sunrise, today a bright orange, yesterday a pale blue and pink. The dark silhouette of the branches of a dead tree brought to life by the colorful backdrop. Rooftop on an old truck accordingly named Nyathi (pronounced Ne-ah-te meaning Buffalo in Zulu) is where I’d rather be. It’s quiet except for the wind in my ears and the sound of the birds. It’s just me up here. It is where I’ve been most introspective. Every bump in the road jolting me in and out of random thoughts. A subtle chuckle and a grin to myself as we pass a giraffe, I sit up straight as the grace of them always seems to make me do. A hippo in the distance snorts and blows in the water as we cusp the edge of his pond. A deep breath in, a sigh and I tilt my head back letting the wind blow my hair off my face and I feel euphoric.

Thoughts of my dad flow in and out all day, as they do most days. From the back of Nyathi I call out silently to the universe, I say good morning Dad. Thoughts of home, of family and friends, I wonder what you are all doing as I miss you. A bump in the road, I re-adjust my seating, jolted to the next thought, dinner with Uncle Dan and Aunt Risa. Bump. Mums olive and sage bread, potato bread, cream brule... food. Dwights dinner time jokes. Bump. Donna’s sweetgrass lotion, I really should have her send some. Bump, hanging on to the side of Nyathi tight. Jacqueline’s ride to conquer cancer (click on this link to sponsor her) and how her training is going. Jamie’s on Main and the all the Stowe gang, hmmm chocolate chip cookies and I wonder who is giving Ramby bacon? Marissa’s contagious laugh. Marketa’s trip to paris, Arian’s wedding planning and Janey’s new job, I don’t worry about Janey’s wedding planning, she is the most organized women on earth, I am certain it is all complete and ready to go. Bump. Karen’s over due and much deserved holiday. Big bump, re-adjust my position again. Mike’s new titanium hip, Foster, Michael and Judy at southledge, must be getting muddy there now and what do the dawn patrol do in the summer? Dawn golf patrol? I wonder if Paul has gotten the job re-location to Bracebridge where he loves to be more than anything. Big bump, hit a stump. Thinking about diving into a cool fresh water lake in Northern Ontario after a long hot summer drive up, not even unpacking, heading right for the water and remembering how the cool water feels on my hot skin. Beautiful fall colors, and moonlight snowshoes in Stowe. Rooftop drinks with the girls at the park hyatt, better; spa days with the girls at the Still Water. Oysters at Rodneys with Kath, and California veal sandwiches, mild with extra cheese. after a night out of too much wine. Did Madelyn get that new position at work and how was Ethans birthday party? Will Joe and Wynanne and the kids come visit? Bump. How is the whole Doiron gang? Big bump and things jiggle, must try to remember all the abdominal exercises Jess taught me.
(all feel free to send a note and answer all these questions!)

I realize this all sounds a bit romper roomish, (I think most of you will remember that show from the 70’s) however it is just a brief of my random thoughts, and to let you all know (even those not mentioned) that I do sit on top of a big old truck named Nyathi and ride through the Moremi bush looking for the lions and thinking about all of you back home and sending all my love from across the miles.

For my Uncle Bob the mechanic

My uncle Bob asked recently where our garage is. Bob is a car enthusiast and mechanic extraordinaire, if you need to find Bob, he'll be in the garage working on a car. So I thought I would show him our garage, the African bush basically. Often while out, often while in a river crossing we fix our vehicles. As well, check out this post with the video of our vehicle going through such a river crossing. (at the bottom of the post)

Snorkeling in Moremi

We had to go into Maun a day early (last thursday) last week for supplies and parts for the truck (again). I did not obtain any photo’s of Maun, it seems like everything does eventually get done, however very very very slowly. The Batswana don’t seem to have any real sense of urgency in their walk, talk or business. So we spend a lot of time waiting, what I think we could get done in a morning at home, here will take an entire day.

Graham and I spent a good part of one day going to a couple of greasy mechanic garages. I am used to this, I’ve been dragged to several similar garages at home by my father and various past boyfriends. The masculine chatter about engines, (between my father and uncle) and cars and the rest, as a young girl while I stood back silently listening (and a little bored), is how I learnt what I know about cars, which is more than most women I proudly boast. It is why Graham was impressed when I knew the gear box had to be “dropped” as a result of the clutch seizing, and that I understood that this was a huge undertaking. It is why I can and have changed a flat tire in a white suit with heels on and managed not to get dirty, and how I knew to use a pair of panty hose as an alternator belt when mine snapped in an old honda civic I owned. Anyway, there we were standing around boys chatting about car stuff, when I over hear the mechanic ask Graham why there is no snorkel on the utility vehicle (we use a toyota truck for supplies and moving between Maun and camp)

“Snorkel?” I am sure that I am not understanding the accents and didn’t hear that correctly. Images of the great barrier reef pop into my head and flippers and clear blue ocean. (I am once again standing silent in the background bored)

“We don’t take this vehicle under water” Graham responds confidently. Again, under water? Snorkel? Vehicle? Silly South African accent, I am sure it is some slang word used here for muffler or something. They do have silly odd little words and sayings for things like, kip for nap, and whinge as in “to complain”, a torch is not what they use on survivor, it’s a flashlight, and the dust bin, it's really a garbage can. Anyway, I digress. Turns out the cars here have snorkels. Yup because people drive their cars through rivers, and the car needs to take air in so there are in fact three options for snorkels.

Option A - no words necessary, obvious isn't it? It is "Good times Bob," having a good time snorkeling thrilled because he just saw a crayfish

















Option B - This actually is Grahams option (it's a google image he found, and clearly he liked it. We have no idea who they are, but I am sure they are very lovely people)












Option C - for the vehicle







This is our vehicle and what some of the crossings are like, this is snorkeling in Moremi.... and how I caught that frog with my foot

Distinguished Men

The morning started off warm with a slightly overcast sky that threatened rain. Since the last stretch of heavy rain we all cringe at the thought of another and look up to the clouds in hopes they do not open their faucets on us again.

We heard a single lion calling south-east of camp early this morning. I was happy to hear this powerful song this morning and woke excited for the day, its been some time since we have seen the pride.

We quickly made our way over to Sitsi plains and found one of the Xakanaxa pride males resting under a Mopane tree. We are uncertain as to where his brother or the rest of the pride are at the moment.

It is always magnificent to see these Males. I find them to be incredibly distinguished and stately in their masculinity.

Today a lesson of juxtaposition was in order, the male lion lay in the shade of the tree beside this beautiful purple flower, (later learned: Cornflower vernonia). Incredible white butterflies (also later learned Brown-Veined White) flew in and out of the scene performing a marvelous symphony of texture, color, nature and animal.

Another day on the job.... sigh

Cheetah - no words necessary