On the road

Life in Maun is beyond hot at the moment, and so we've headed to South Africa. Hot beyond hot, hotter than any one Canadian can imagine. By 11am one cannot move, my fingers are like sausages, and I had no idea where my ankles went. And it wasn't even hot when we left, so I've been told. Until the 1st rains come, late Oct it only gets hotter. Tar melts, you can fry an egg on the road, getting into the car is difficult because the door handle is too hot to touch. HOT!


In an effort to save money we decided to drive. It's a 12 hour drive from Maun to Johannesburg. I was and am always up for a road trip and so off we went.








I've been trying to sell my car and been having difficulty selling it. Then I saw this and thought, well now why didn't I think of that..........












Then we saw this sign, imagine... collecting your taxes under a baobab tree......



Eventually we made it to Jozzi as the proud locals call it here, and the temperature is much more civil. I've found my ankles again and they look lovely. And my fingers are no longer bulging over my rings. Last time I was here it was rainy and miserable, I have to say Jozzi is a much nicer place under the sun (isn't any place) and is quite a lovely city. Still wouldn't want to live here, but lovely. It is home to the biggest man made forest in the world, and is full of birds. So for a city, it is really very green.

We then headed to Cape Town which again, last time I was there is was rain, cold and gail force winds. (And that is not an exaggerated term inherited from mum) the front page of the paper said "gail force winds". This time it was sunny and so wonderfully beautiful. It's a stunning sea side city full of such wonderful flowers. I have a new found love for Cape Town, I didn't want to leave!

Socializing

I’ve mentioned that Maun mainly exists to cater to the safari community, and it’s been said that it’s a drinking town with a safari problem. I would have to agree. There are few choices of outings so people tend to frequent their favorite, the bridge backpackers being one of them, great burgers, it is a wonderful mix of locals and tourists mingling together, this is Graham enjoying a beer while a local enjoys the bar.

The ex-pat community enjoy a lot of Braai’s (that is what they call BBQs here) a popular choice of Braai is Peri Peri Chicken. Graham has mastered this process and I’ve enjoyed many a peri peri chicken braai, so much so I think it’s all he knows how to cook. The BBQ’s are not traditional (or on the contrary they are way more so then our modern contraptions) and often wood collected from along the river is used to cook. The other night we had a Braai at our friends Crispen and Lisa’s house and the BBQ was made out of an old wheel rim and leaf springs (Uncle Bob and old mechanic boyfriends take note at pic below, too cool). And Van and Justine, who’s house we live at has a BBQ made out of an old gyser.

911 radio's

Comparatively (to South Africa) crime here is low. However as a visitor, or “north american” we are automatically seen as wealthy and therefore that you will be generous. I didn’t mention it before we left camp but will now. One of our temporary camp hands decided to target me for this reason. Often asking me for money and a jacket. Later to find out that he cleaned me out, he took quite a few items of clothing with him when he left. This was particularly upsetting as he lived with us for some time. And paid close attention to the items of clothing I wasn’t wearing in camp and therefore may not notice right away as missing. While I try not to be attached to things I still from time to time think about it, what he took (there is someone wearing a lovely Lu Lu lemon yoga top) and it burns my ass so much that as I make my way around town I am on the look out for my distinct items of clothing that might be on the back of a local walking around. What I would do if I saw it, I don’t know, probably nothing, but still I look.

Security is high here as it is in South Africa. All the homes are fenced in. We are staying in a beautiful home of a friend of Grahams which is on the river with the most beautiful fig tree in the back yard. Fenced in. The view to the river is lovely though obstructed by this electric fence. As I sit here and the goats roam munching on grass outside the fence to be shocked into horror every time they touch the fence in hilarity. I have come to quite like the goat. They are sweet little things, the babies especially adorable and one day will have a pet goat. I find this fenced in life claustrophobic and I don’t know that I’ve had a good nights sleep since we’ve been here.


























911 here isn’t what it is at home. Everyone has a “911” radio. It’s a walkie talkie type radio and is more of a neighborhood watch sort of thing. When I asked the number for the police no one seemed to know. Apparently most of the police don’t have cars, and when they get a call have to arrange a “ride” to the scene. Comforting. So these 911 radios are tuned in every night to your neighbors and should something go wrong everyone gathers to save and protect you. It is also a form of entertainment and conversation for the next day. Did you hear last nights 911 call....etc. In the first week we were here there was a 911 announcement that three criminals had escaped from prison (this not too surprising as a conversation earlier that day was of someone who had to pay a fine at the police station to see two criminals being held in a room by a mere broom stick across the door way) and to be on high alert that evening and until they were found and captured. Evidently these particular criminals were beating people quite brutally for cash and cell phones. Needless to say, even within this electric fence, high alarm system and locked doors I was on edge all night. And every night until the announcement came over the 911 radio that they had eventually caught said criminals. About a week after escape and re-capture, the escape part of the news made the local paper. The Ngami times, and a week after capture, it was only then in the paper.


Here is an example of the 911 radio in use the other night as we had some friends over for a Braai. (BBQ)

Maun, Botswana

First I apologize for the lack of updates, internet is a hassle at best here in town, I've lost connection several times already while trying to load this post, and to be honest, it's not as inspiring here as it was in the bush. That and it is so hot by 11am one can barley move! I kid you not, you would think living in a hot climate is so exotic and wonderful, it's just really really hot.

I realize that all my talk about the bush and I’ve barley if at all touched on Botswana as a country. Landlocked, it is a country of contrasts. 80% of it is referred to as desert, but as you know the Kalahari contains substantial woodland and other vegetation and water. Botswana is the worlds biggest producer of gemstones, diamonds being the most common. Population, 1.2 million. The gap between rich and poor is evident in examples of expensive cars and big houses, excellent roads and modern buildings but high unemployment and rural villages with dwellings built traditionally of natural materials without sanitation, electricity or water. There are over 20 different tribes and languages, the most common language spoken is english then Setswana. The most common and universal greeting is “dumela” followed by “rra” (ar-ra) if speaking to a man, or “mma” (MAA) if speaking to a women. This is something I have now become accustomed to saying to everyone, as soon as you walk into a shop it’s “dumela mma”. Greeting is very important here, and it is considered very rude to not respond to a greeting, even if from a wave of someone as you drive past them.

In 1966 Botswana gained independence and was one of the poorest countries in the world, as well one of the most traditional and conservative. Since 1966 the country has made enormous strides and makes international news in it’s success in comparison to other African countries. It’s government is Parliamentary democracy.

I’ve talked about Maun in past posts, merely just a weekend over night run for supplies. This consisted of a rushed in and out trying to get back to camp as fast as possible. So it was hectic and I can’t say I really got the feel for the town. Until now I hadn’t actually spent an extended amount of time in Maun. I’ve gone so far as to try to get myself aquatinted with the fitness community anxious to get exercising again I’ve been running with a sense of such freedom.. not far 5km at most, but it feels so good to run again. I’ve gone to the gym a few times, it’s far from fancy, the equipment somewhat resembles that of what the Flinstones may have used, but it’s all one needs. So my first day all excited to work out I head to the gym at 9:15am. “Dumela mma please may I have a day pass” I say smiling. “Pula 30” (about $4 canadian dollars) she says and I hand over my money. “Mma we close at 9:30am” she says. Hmmm. And so the conversation goes like this....

Penny: “but Mma it’s now 9:15 and you took my pula, what will I do for 15 min?”

Lady smiling sheepishly “mma I don’t know maybe you can carry some weight”

Penny: “Mma you took my pula so I can carry some weight from here to there just once?”

Lady still sheepish “Mma we open at 12 again, we need to clean the gym, maybe you come back then yes?”

Penny: “Mma, is it busy early morning?”

Lady: “ah yes very busy”

Penny: “ is it busy at lunch and after work?”

Lady: “ah yes it is very very busy”

Penny: “when is the best time to come to the gym?”

Lady: “ ah but now Mma!”

This is Maun.

Before I go on to tell you about my dealing with the local cultures and customs there are some things that are essential to understand. It is much more difficult to generalize here then it is in other places. Botswana is only 40 years from nationwide poverty and a practically nonexistent economy. In that short space of time the economy has expanded: cell phones, the internet (in Maun this has only happened in the last five years) corporate governance, big houses, consumerism have all become a part of life. For some, but not all. This is where the complexity in the huge disparity between those who have and those who have not. The “rich” and the poor. The “rich” have acquired such a status very quickly and participate in excessive consumerism. Even signs of obesity in them and their children are apparent. The poor, remain poor. With this extreme opposite you will encounter anything from the nineteenth century to the twenty first. Therefore one must be patient. Standing in line happens a lot. Generally this is respected, but people do cut in, typically Batswana will assume there must be some good reason for it and say nothing.



I’ve been driving Graham’s car here as well. Let me paint that picture for you. Wrong side of the road, and car, a standard transmission so that too is on the wrong side, switching gears with my left hand . Round abouts (intuitively the wrong way around for me, not to mention we don’t even have them) , shared with donkeys, goats, cows and the odd horse. The driving is atrocious here, there appears to be no right of way, or rules per-say. Unlike at home, pedestrians do not have the right of way. In fact I’ve often crossed the road and seen cars speed up when they see you. When running, at home cars will swerve around you, here I swear they swerve into you. Parking lots and such that are often shared with people are fearful places if you are on foot. You must watch out for cars, because they don’t see you at all and will not be watching out for you.

Getting things done here. Yes well, it might be the most unproductive place on earth. Where you think you are running out for a few things at the grocery store that should take 10 minutes tops, can take up to an hour. Maybe more. Work ethic is not generally part of peoples lives and I can fairly say (and they will too) that Batswana are lazy, I’ve never seen people move so slow. While yes I have slowed down myself since being out of the big city, Batswana move backwards if at all. Doing business on friday afternoon with any person is impossible. Saturdays are half days for business, and sundays forget about it.

Punctuality is non existent. We’ve all heard the phrase “in a mexican minute”, here it’s “Botswana time” which is about 10 times longer than a mexican minute and can be days even.

Amongst the extreme poverty, and those that live in it, everyone has a cell phone. It is amazing really. On the side of the road, in the middle of what seems like nowhere one can buy firewood, a goat, and air time for their phone. This is part of what fascinates me about Botswana. There is a parallel presence of two very different worlds: the old and the new and the boundaries are blurred.