Life in the bush- getting stuck - dealing with a wildlife film crew

This was just posted on the Earth-touch website and I found humorously accurate to my experience at base Camp in Moremi (after they were situated at horse safaris) and my experience with said film crew boys. A brilliant explanation/description by Sarah at horse safaris. I am mostly just posting this for my own reference and memory. It made me laugh out loud.


"In the early days of Earth Touch the crew was based out of Okavango Horse Safaris. I was there recently and Sarah Humble passed on a document she wrote at the time, it makes for some interesting reading…

As you know, Earth-Touch film crews have been operating out of the Okavango Horse Safaris basecamp for quite some time now. These boys try to convince us and the rest of the world no doubt, that they are epitomies of ruggedness and posessors of unbounded bush savvy.
They are in fact just snivelling wimps who are continually whining about the weather and getting themselves stuck. Through our experience we have found that the current best ‘tanning’ spot is the top of the filming vehicle – stuck or not, however their whining reaches fever pitch on any form of movement or noise.
What does “rolling” mean anyway?



Here is our film truck recovery technique:

Recipe for Swamp Rescue of Grubby Film Crews

Ingredients:
1 Tractor
1 Tractor Driver (Preferably new)
1 Chain (Shorter the better – no pun, Graham)
6 Warm, flat beers
2 Marlboro Lights, damp and or broken (Tend to provide best results)
For camp managers: Sense of Humour
For film crew: No Sense of Humour

Cooking Time:
The longer the better. This dish is best served well done, cold and wet.

Method:
1. Always ensure that camp radio volume is turned to low, this reduces the chance of communication with camp and extends the ‘stuck’ period, hopefully encouraging practice on removing stuck vehicle from swamp.
2. Do not forget to add a touch of water to the diesel supply on rescue tractor, this will help prolong the rescue mission, therefore encouraging better terrain awareness on future filming missions.
3. Remember never to tell the tractor driver the exact location of the film crew, thus minimising disturbance while stuck.
4. It is essential to make sure that the towing chain is very short, therefore its only practical use is self-punshisment.
5. Prior planning is required to ensure that the beer has had ample opportunity to become flat and warm before use. If this has not been the case, open all cans slightly and transport sideways.
6. Cigarettes must always be sent damp and preferably broken. This can be done at the last moment before the tractor leaves camp.
7. Feed the pre-prepared hot meal to the camp genet, this normally extracts best response if you have prepared the boys favourite food. Eat all biltong prior to their return, and their stash if you can locate it.
8. Remove all gas bottles from geysers thus ensuring cold showers on return to camp.
9. Never curse or swear. It’s not their fault that girls make better bush drivers.

- Repeat as often as required but be imaginative on points 3, 5 and 6.
- Sit back and enjoy the resulting reaction.

To sum up, in order to provide the best care for these busy boys while they are filming it is essential to always be polite but unhelpful and smile and wave on departure from or arrival back to camp.



Note:
If steps 1-6 have taken more than 10 hours, it is prudent to be missing on their return to camp, do not reappear for at least 48 hours.

We hope that this has provided you with an insight into the best ways to care for these rare and uncouth creatures.

Lots of Love
The Blonde Okavango Horse Safaris aka White Noise

Thanks Sarah.

Maun to Moremi

I am aware that I am long overdue for a post about my return home and have been pondering it daily. To follow soon, I promise.

In the mean time a video was posted on the Earth-Touch site of the drive from Maun to Moremi that I often endured. It was great to watch and it brought back fond memories. Though I can't say it does it complete justice as the drive was always that of much wild game, elephants, hippos, impala and such. And while long, hot and dusty it was always beautiful. A description of it can be found on an earlier post. I am here because.

Enjoy!

The Road Home

“Don't stand by the water and long for fish; go home and weave a net”

I arrived in Africa at possibly the most fragile time of my life and my entire being. My father having died only months prior, left me raw, confused, uncertain and scared. Arriving in the middle of the African bush to live in absolute simplicity, in a tent, amongst nature, wildlife, a group of complete strangers, in a foreign land, a foreign country and all the natural forces of mother nature put me under a microscope and challenged me in ways I never thought I could be challenged. Africa showed me in large screen format, as if I was standing in front of a life size mirror, my past, present and the mystery that my future holds. It stirred emotions in me that I never thought could happen in such a raw format. It forced me to let go.

As a temporary tenant of Africa's wilderness I am keenly aware of the privilege I have had. I have had an opportunity that few have ever had or ever will. I didn’t go on safari, I was completely and utterly submerged in the wilds of Africa. I actually lived in the bush in a private camp in a tent for 7 months straight. I showered under a bucket outside, water heated over a fire. There was no “washroom” no flushing toilets or faucets to waste water. No stores to walk to when we wanted some urge satisfied. I was 4 hours from the closest town. Confined to a space so vast it’s hard to imagine or explain how that contrast can even exist. I got to cling to nature, participate in the environment, blend in with the magnificent animals, gain friendships and knowledge, a better understanding of myself and mankind,and of course live among and get to know up close and personal a pride of lions, all of which was a constant reminder to me that we are merely humans, living in the wild where ever we are, and how privileged I was to be able to experience the the magnificence and wonderment of the Delta

I was a guest in the home of wild game, I was humbled by their presence as I sat and watched them in their world. I sat only feet away from a roaring lion, and felt the sound reverberate through my bones, the most majestic sound imaginable, and was incredibly humbled in such powerful presence. Possibly the most impressive natural sound that has ever fallen on my ears.

I got to see a star filled southern sky every night, and touch the African full moon. I got to lay in bed (a bed roll) and listen to the laugh of the hippos, the universal song of the night insects and crickets every night. I woke every morning to the bird songs and the sunrise, and I reached out and touched the African sky as I said good morning to the world. Every breath I took was in sync with the natural rhythms of the earth, I felt the heartbeat of the land pump through my veins. The wilderness, the wildlife, the soil, it gets in your soul, in your blood. I’ve breathed the dust and scents into my lungs and it has changed me completely, it now circulates though me. Africa showed me humility. I am forever grateful for the opportunity and know I couldn’t have done it without my support network along the way.

I came to some startlingly common sense realizations while here in Africa. There was many lessons that the first world can learn from the third world. Sustainability for one, is a way of life here. It isn't a campaign or a movement or I fear say a trend, like it has become in the West, but it is evident everywhere here, woven into everything Africans do. Africans live with resource scarcity. They have not experienced consumption out of whack with production because it has never been a possibility. And this isn’t only amongst the black Africans. In Maun one can’t help but notice, (well at least as a north American) that the need for ‘things’ just does not exist. You make things last, you don’t just replace them. It is not the disposable society that I am used to living in. All Africans value what they have, and even more so the loved ones in their life.

Some of the images I saw in the townships showed circumstances that could seemingly only equal misery. I once bought into the lie that circumstance defines happiness. The truth is, in Africa I found hearts full of victory, and joy. In places where despair should thrive, children are playing soccer with a ball crafted of tied up trash and waving happily as we drive by. There is no escape to a cottage in Muskoka on the weekend to provide relief from the pains of daily life. Relationships and faith provide joy. Love is sovereign. This is not to say that many don’t need help, and live in unacceptable conditions, I am just saying the many , despite their circumstance still manage to find happiness.

And so I’ve come to realize that my happiness should have no regard for my circumstances. Or even the circumstance of that which is my past. I have been forced to redefine the meaning of having much or having very little in my life. And I have more then enough. I no longer need the "next thing" to be happy.

The horrific statistics of Aids, the statistics of death, crime and violence are enough to crush the soul of the strongest, and it did often crush my soul and yet somehow I managed to look past it as do all the Africans I’ve met. For it is the beauty that holds me and them together. It is the beauty here in the land and it’s people that moves me. Even in the death, the crime and the violence, all I see is Africa. Africa’s journey, history and it’s altered destiny. Africans have a deep devotion and love for what their country, and what their continent, means to them. Africa is unpretentious, uncomplicated, and magical.

I have developed an obsession with Africa; even before I arrived here physically, somewhere along the way, I still don’t know what or how the seed got planted, maybe it was just a spiritual pull, or maybe I felt the connection of my own native roots that all man originated from this continent and it was put into my heart as a place calling me. Knowing the honest simplicity of its people, its wide-open spaces, and its vast herds of untamed creatures whose mere existence reminded me that there are still settings where the world lives quite peacefully without us, now I know why. I suppose that in a way Africa found me, when I couldn’t seem to find myself.

I’ve learnt that you can kiss your loved ones goodbye and put miles between you, but you always carry them with you. Because you do not ever just live in a world. But a world lives within you. I missed those closet to me so dearly. I’ve missed “home”.

I am also so grateful to all those along the way who opened their doors, their homes and their hearts to me and welcomed me with open arms. The hospitality of south Africans is something I hope will live in me forever.

I could go on and on and on, into the depths of my souls learning's. But simply put, I am forever transformed. And not to miss lead you, it wasn’t always easy. Facing such emotional and physical and mental challenges can exhaust ones being, and it did. But no one ever said looking yourself in eye was easy. It’s always hard work, and I am all too aware the lifelong commitment of this. But for all the hard work, and when times were tough, still every moment of it helped me grow and learn and I embraced all of it.

You all know I believe in documenting life in the last year in an effort to bridge the gap between each other and nature, to expose our innumerable similarities, and increase empathy for, and acceptance of, one another and nature. I believe in the laws of attraction. That thought is the origin of all things. That what we believe we bring into being; by focusing on abundance rather than lack, what we need and want rather than life deficiencies. I believe there is an incredible power in the moment we call now.

And now the time has come to go home. After trying to find “equitable” employment in south Africa to no avail I must part ways with my second home, Moma Afrika.

I am happier than I have ever been, which is in deep contrast with the fact that I am poorer (financially) and heartbroken to put the distance between myself and a great love, and many new friends of whom I will work towards being next to again. Societal norms and statistics would suggest this should leave me in a much different state of mind. Within the mixed emotions and the tears, I am truly happy. I’ve found clarity and calmness in myself and in life, I am richer for the experience I have had. I hold more value in my hands now then I have ever held before.

I arrive home, by choice just days before I will mark the one year anniversary of my fathers death. I will remember and honor him on our land.

Africa has taught me that possessions in my hands will never be as valuable as peace in my heart, my family and my friends. I've learned that I don't need what I have and that I have what I need in those, in you, my family and my friends.

“You leave home to seek your fortune and, when you get it, you go home and share it with your family.”

I will stay with my baby sister, and what a joy that will be, I am thrilled to have this opportunity to spend with her as “adults”. She is many years younger and so we never really have had the opportunity to live together as adults. It will bring me much joy to get to know her and her husband in this way.

My journey is not over, it has really just begun. As it always will be.... just beginning. It’s been a long road travelled. And there is still a long road that lay ahead of me. Africa is a sacred memory, a spiritual connection. A liberating force that has in some way freed me. The earth of Africa held me together when I came closet to losing my soul.

Thank you to all who have followed along the way providing much needed encouragement, and support and love. I can’t wait to see you all!

I will see you all at ‘home’ after November 11th.

If you have some time, below is a slide show of my time here.

Hamba Kahle (goodbye, or go well in Zulu)

Penny

The power of dignity

Mind your color

In all my time in Africa I've asked many to help me understand Apartheid. I've come to the conclusion that it may very well be impossible to ever fully understand. Even after my morning today the Apartheid museum. To me it's incomprehensible. And as it also seems to many white south africans my age. Because of censorship many of them were sheltered from it's harsh sting unable to really tell me what it was like.

Once again this is a very very short very uneducated re-cap with a lot of help from the internet.

Apartheid is an afrikaans word meaning "seperateness" - it was a legal system whereby people were classified into racial groups - White, Black, Indian and Coloured; and seperate geographic areas were demarcated for each racial group. Apartheid laws were part of South Africa's legal framework from 1948 to 1994.

The apartheid policy of the National Party, which came to power in 1948, brought a barrage of legislation to bear upon South Africans that categorised them by race and then controlled their freedom according to their race group.

Race laws effected every aspect of life for South Africans. It provided whites with access to the most privileged suburbs, education, jobs and positions, even to the extent of exclusive access to beaches, theatres, parks, bridges and public toilets.







The system ensured that 'white' privileges were beyond the reach of blacks.

The government enforced apartheid ruthlessly. Large areas of Cape Town were designated 'white suburbs' and coloured and black communities were forced to leave and settle on the Cape Flats.

Black people had to carry a pass giving them permission to stay in Cape Town and were forced to leave if they were not in work.

The government closed down mission schools and excluded blacks from advanced education.

There were widespread attempts to protest against the apartheid system in the 1950s.



Coloured people campaigned against their removal from the voters roll. But their opposition became divided and broke down.

The ANC-led Congress movement developed more unified opposition, but they faced various laws that gave the Government draconian powers to suppress opposition.

As large-scale anti-pass demonstrations and marches broke out in Cape Town and elsewhere in 1960, a State of Emergency was declared, and the ANC banned.

In the 1960s the breadth of apartheid laws and the power of the police made it impossible to legally protest against the system.

Opposition groups were banned and many leaders exiled or jailed. Nelson Mandela was sentenced to life in prison and sent to Robben Island.

The ANC and PAC turned to armed resistance, but the police successfully suppressed their activities.

Shanty towns continued to grow as poor people migrated fearlessly into the city, driven by poverty. There were brutal slum clearances and the eviction of thousands of people.

Following the example of the children of Soweto, near Johannesburg, youth in the rest of South Africa demonstrated against apartheid in 1976.

Street battles ensued as police tried to crack down on demonstrations. 128 people were killed and over 400 injured in related violence in cape town alone that year.

The scale of the violence shocked the world, and marked the beginning of a new phase of struggle against the authorities.

Under pressure at home and abroad the Government promised change, and ceased to enforce petty apartheid.

City Councils and private companies were quick to remove segregation. Public places were opened and people began to mix more freely.

However, laws that required segregation of residential locations and schooling remained firmly in place throughout the 1980s.

Political changes to allow coloured participation in government were seen as tokenism, and blacks remained excluded.

The reform of apartheid did not impress the growing number of activists and a formidable range of organisations began to work together to fight apartheid.

Church leaders, such as Desmond Tutu, students, unions, welfare organisations and civic bodies began to work under the United Democratic Front to coordinate protests.

Although most protests were peaceful, many ended in violence as the police tried to break them up.

By the mid 1980s the tide had turned and the movement against apartheid gathered an unstoppable momentum.

The government resorted to declaring a 'State of Emergency' several times, but these only confirmed the failure of apartheid and the government's illegitimacy.

Opposition groups were banned and many leaders exiled or jailed. Nelson Mandela was sentenced to life in prison and sent to Robben Island.

Against a backdrop of increasing economic hardship and international pressure the government secretly began negotiations with Nelson Mandela.

By 1989 a mass movement for democracy had developed that included people from all backgrounds, including City and church leaders.


As anti-apartheid pressure mounted within and outside South Africa, the South African government, led by President F. W. de Klerk, began to dismantle the apartheid system in the early 1990s. The year 1990 brought a National Party government dedicated to reform and also saw the legalization of formerly banned black congresses and the release of imprisoned black leaders. In 1994 the country's constitution was rewritten and free general elections were held for the first time in its history, and with Nelson Mandela's election as South Africa's first black president, the last vestiges of the apartheid system were finally outlawed.

Zimbabwe

Driving back from Victoria Falls through Zimbabwe to South Africa provided me with the stark contrast of one of Africa’s most beautiful landscape and people vs. the current sate of affairs of what can happen when rulers behave badly and leave it’s people in a bleak reality.

I can only provide what little information I have learnt along the way as to why Zim is in the state that it is. Here is the abbreviated version.

Zimbabwe’s current political instability arises from difficult political and economic transformations that have strained its capacity to manage crises effectively. The first—the transition from war to peace with Zimbabwe’s independence from white rule in 1979 was incomplete and set the stage for conflicts to arise throughout the 1980s. The second, overlaying the first, was Zimbabwe’s transition from a developmental to a neoliberal state, producing intense social hardships on the population. And in 2005 the government stole another election, the opposition imploded and half a million of the poorest people were evicted in the midst of winter. Unemployment is at 70%, inflation has topped 1000% and women die younger in Zimbabwe than anywhere else on the planet.

In the last few years, Mugabe's decision making has become very questionable and the nation is rapidly slipping into economic oblivion. The situation began to unravel when the economy slowed down around 2001 and it became evident that Mugabe's political party was rapidly losing popularity. He tried to gain favor with poorer voters (the vast majority of Zimbabweans) by allowing squatters to illegally occupy and take over high production farmlands owned by a small minority of the population. Naturally these subsistence farmers were not able to be even remotely as productive as the previous high-skilled agribusiness operations, so Zimbabwe lost its largest source of export earnings and actually had to start importing food to feed its population. This in turn made Zimbabwe have a huge shortage of foreign currency reserves which it had used to pay its debts and buy imports. Mugabe decided to take the easy way out and just print more money to exchange for the desperately needed foreign currency. Not surprisingly, inflation immediately spiraled out of control. A travel guidebook from 2002 shows 1 US dollar = 35 Zimbabwe dollars. The current "black market" exchange rate is 1 US dollar = 1,400,000 Zimbabwe dollars or basically non existent. Think about what that would do to the value of any savings you had! Of course this had had a devastating effect on the economy and the Zimbabwean people, crime has increased, unemployment is rampant, many businesses have shut down, there are shortages of anything imported (especially gasoline) and many rural residents are on the brink of famine.

The currency is an ongoing and unmitigated disaster that can put a huge strain on visiting there. As mentioned the local currency is valueless and only foreign, south African rand and american dollars, are accepted. You can’t draw from the bank therefore you must budget your money and spend wisely.

It is so bad there now that we had to make sure fuel would be available. The importation laws on fuel can change from one day to the next with a capricious government.

Zim was once one of the healthiest economies in Africa. And it is apparent in it’s buildings and it’s people. It’s obvious that there was once a thriving economy. Driving through Bulawayo was like driving through a time warp. What I imagine Cuba to be like. We stopped at the first gas station to find they only had diesel and no petrol, the next petrol but no diesel. We tried to find food to buy no only get a bag of crackers that were stale and old. It really is desperate at the moment and sad. I didn’t feel comfortable taking pictures here or in any urban setting as this could be construed by Zimbabwean authorities as misrepresenting oneself as an accredited journalist, a crime punishable by arrest, incarceration and/or deportation. So I thought better not.

The stark reality of it all became even more real once we crossed over into Botswana and drove through a similar city, Francistown. Botswana is thriving and alive with new buildings going up, huge new stadiums, business open and line ups at the counters and road works everywhere. The extreme difference in the two countries highlighted the grim reality of Zimbabwe even more.

Still with the extreme poverty in Zimbabwe under their oppressive dictator, you can only try to understand how the people must feel.  Although, passing through villages, I found that most of the people are smiling and waving like they are glad to see us. I am intrigued with the large bundles that women easily balance on their heads while leaving their hands free to hold on to little ones. There is no reason not to travel there at the moment and Zimbabweans need the money. And while the government has some stake in the national airline and some hotels, stay in a hostel as we did and drive to insure the money isn’t going to government cronies. For the rest, waitress, artists, guides and small business tourism decline has put them on the bread line. These people need tourism. I never felt unsafe and the locals are friendly and happy to see you. Perhaps too happy in that I felt harassed at times, but never unsafe. It’s a beautiful land with beautiful people in a sad sad state at the moment.










.

Victoria Falls

Also known as Mosi-oa-Tunya - The smoke that thunders, in the Kololo language.

I approached the falls through the rainforest with all my senses on alert. I was so excited to see something I had only ever dreamt of seeing. I could hear the roar of the water, and even feel the light mist of spray on my hot skin that left behind droplets of water. As we turned a corner, and the roar got louder, I caught my first glimpse of the falls.

My heart raced and my breath was stolen from me and yes my eyes watered over as I gazed in awe at this incredible feature of nature and millions of litres of water spilling over the abyss that I once had only ever imagined.

The Victoria Falls is a spectacular natural wonder where the mighty Zambezi river flows tranquilly over a forest lined plateau dispersed with small islands, lagoons, hippos and deadly crocodiles, before plunging 110m into a terrifying gorge producing the world’s largest sheet of falling water, over one and a half kilometers across. It tumbles at a rate of half a million cubic meters per minute creating a unique tropical rainforest in the heart of scrubland.
 As it tumbles the river sends up a towering column of spray 400m high which is visible more than forty kilometers away during the wet season, appearing like rising smoke hence its African name ‘Mosi-ou-Tunya’ or ‘Smoke that Thunders’. David Livingstone, the famous explorer, first saw the falls on 17th November 1855, naming them in honor of Queen Victoria and marveling at their heavenly beauty saying;



“ No one can imagine the beauty of the view from anything witnessed in England. It had never been seen before by European eyes; but scenes so lovely must have been gazed upon by angels in their flight.”



The unique geography of the Victoria Falls mean that you can gaze at them face on from only 200m away, offering an unparalleled closeness to this awe inspiring natural element. From this close distance you can experience the spray, noise and spectacular rainbows that are ever present. I’ve spent a lot of time defending our Niagara falls up until the moment my eyes set on this spectacular sight. I can’t speak now of Niagara falls. In fact we are not talking about it at all.

We spent about 5 hours walking and taking in the view, the sounds, the feel. It’s is a playground for the senses. The hot Zimbabwean sun was soothed by the faint spray off the falls.

Eventually, hot and hungry we pried ourselves away from the beauty to see a few other sites, though could have easily spent the entire day there. The famous and historic Victoria Falls hotel which is the oldest in Zim and oozes elegance and has the most amazing view of the gorge and bridge into Zambia is where we found home respite from the heat (40 Celsius in the shade!) and had a kip under a beautiful tree to be awoken by the local, or resident warthogs.

Later we made our way to the Big Tree, which is indeed a big tree, a Baobab tree which I LOVE! It’s as if the tree is turned upside down and the roots at the top. And then on to watch a local “watering hole” to see if any Elephants might come to feed.

Eventually we made our way to supper at a local eatery called “in-da-belly” with a limited menu of Meat, crocodile or warthog.

I had ice-cream for dinner.

Graham full, and me on a sugar high we made our way back to the hostel and took in some african music and gin and tonics. It was the most wonderful day and more than worth the 12 hour drive.

Warning: a lot of photos below

Rhino's!

Graham needed to go back to Maun to pack and ship his printer back to South Africa, so we decided best make a road trip out of the long drive and include Zimbabwe in the mix. It’s about 12-14 hours from Johannesburg to Maun give or take allowing time at boarders and rest stops/photo opportunities. Music playing, bad singing and lots of junk food we hit the road. On route we passed and stopped for a tacky tourist photo opportunity at the post for the Tropic of Capricorn.





This long drive isn’t ever boring, we pass herds and herds of cows and horse crossing our path, and wiz past old and current gold mine dumps. African children in school uniforms making the long trek under the hot african sun from their villages unseen from the road to their school. Family’s on an outing. And flocks of Ostrich. Yes Ostrich! all make for wonderful reasons to stop, stretch and take it all in.




















Because of the long haul we decided to break it up and spend the night at the Khama Rhino Sanctuary just outside of Serowe. This humble place was magnificent. A perfect half way mark. And having been in the city for a month I was relieved to be in the “bush” albeit small, and pale in comparison to Moremi, I was still hearing the song of birds and insects and wind in the trees providing a calmness and re-energizing my soul.

I hadn’t seen a Rhino yet. There were none in Moremi. Sadly they had all been poached out of Botswana and were on the verge of extinction. With three left in Moremi the Botswana government relocated them into the Rhino sanctuary to start breeding them and are slowing being reintroduced into the delta. And yes, poaching is illegal.


It was an amazing afternoon. In such a short span of time I managed to see four animals I hadn’t yet seen. The Eland, a beautiful antelope and the largest antelope in the world.

Spring Bucks, similar to an impala but with beautiful white markings.


















A Kori bustard bird, the largest flying bird.











And last but not least the magnificent white Rhino. As the hot sun was setting and the desert dust blowing a thin layer of dust onto our sweaty bodies we came across a magnificent scene. In a small pan of water were rhino, impala, and zebra all mingling around with each other. As they ran, and played they’re hooves disturbed what sand the wind hadn’t yet stirred and left a mystic trail behind. It was absolutely stunning and provided for an incredible opportunity for photos.

Food for thought

"At the heart of every human experience is the desire to survive and prosper. To live without fear, hunger or suffering. To imagine how your life could be better and then have the means yourself to change it. Yet, every day, 1.2 billion people – one fifth of the world’s inhabitants – cannot fulfil their most basic needs, let alone attain their dreams or desires"

Before I left Maun I was faced with probably the biggest lesson of my life thus far. I didn’t write about it sooner because I was so shifted by the experience that I needed time for it to really reach the depths of my being.

While shopping for the road trip ahead of us I ran into our temporary camp hand that was suspicious of taking some things that were not his. On his wrist was my bracelet. He greeted me like he was innocent and I quickly and calmly told him how disappointed I was that we had brought him into our home and he had taken from us. He denied of course that the bracelet was even mine, let alone having taken anything else.

To be fair and equitable I told him he had a choice. He could give me my things back or I could call the police. It was up to him. After some wrangling back and forth, and Graham now at my side we hoped in the car to go to his home to collect our things.

As we drove out of town a bit, and turned down the 1st road where the tar turned to dirt, then left again. This appeared to be a road but there were no tire tracks, no one who lives here has a car. We curved and turned around shanty style shacks, some with roofs, most without. Children naked, and women sweating carrying water on their heads, likely from kilometers away and the only clean water they can get. Eventually we came to his house. A one room mud hut. He has very little. He lives in this house with several family members, with mud walls and mud floor, with no running water, and no electricity.

I couldn’t stand myself in this moment. I was fighting back the tears. I was looking extreme poverty in the eye, deep into the soul of it, breathing in it’s dust, filling my being with it. How could I ask for my things back from someone who has so little. Who has next to nothing. A few items of clothing, my american cell phone that I would never use again. Things. Just things.

While he is gathering our things, Graham sees my eyes watering over and I tell him this is wrong. He is merely trying to provide and survive. Let’s leave. Graham assures me that it is wrong for him to have stolen from us. There is aid, and he could have asked and should have asked. We can't leave now, we can't condone theft. He didn't feel good about it either.

He comes out of the mud hut with four items. Two are mine and two are Grahams. There is a lot more than that missing and Graham sternly tells him to get the rest. At this point I am looking him in the eye and I notice how yellow his eyes are. There is puss in the corners and it occurs to me that he is more than likely very very ill. Aids without doubt.

Eventually he returns with my cell phone. Again knowing this isn’t all Graham tells him he has until friday and he will meet Brad at a said location with the rest of the items or they will call the police. I still don’t know if Brad got our things or if he even showed up. But I don’t care.

I was so put off by the entire experience, I was so shaken. Many assured me that we did the right thing, that he can not get away with stealing and by reprimanding him we are actually helping him. While I understand this, stealing is wrong no matter how poor you are. I still feel guilt. Here we get bored of an old couch and want to replace it and just do. We are never really happy or content with what we have. We should be so lucky. We should be so grateful. We should appreciate what we have and need for nothing.

People are more important than things. Relationships are more important than any material goods that I have acquired on the road to success. Without the love and support of family and friends in life, material goods are useless.

In this time of uncertainty for me, of not knowing what is next on my journey, weather it’s here or coming home, what I know is that I am homesick. And it’s my friends and my family that I miss and need for that support network. I am overwhelmingly rich in this. And am more than grateful for what I have in my support network.

I’ve also had difficulty with the labor here. It’s cheap so everyone has a nanny, or a maid, and a gardner. Often the maid is also the nanny. And it’s the blacks. It took me a long to to say “blacks”, as a Canadian this isn’t something we see the difference in. We don’t say blacks. There is just people. Anyway, everywhere we go and whomever we stay with there is a maid. It’s affordable. So everyone has one. I was so off by my laundry being done and ironed everywhere we went. My bed made. Dinner dishes done in the morning. It’s no wonder south africans are so laid back and seemingly stress free. Aside from work they have someone to take care of all those admin type things that often stress us out and take up our weekends or nights. Though one has to understand that they are providing work for them. Employing one maid actually eventually feeds about 20-30 more family members. It’s true. I get it, but I am still adjusting to it. It's just different for me.

As we drive out to the airport in Johannesburg we travel through beautiful white neighborhoods with every convenience of modern life. The business areas with neat brick buildings, trimmed lawns. Overhead, the sky blue and the birds sing. As we make our way out of these areas, along the side of the highway is the “informal township” (south African for squatter camp) where 43 water faucets serve 45,000 inhabitants. Race seems to determine the supply of all necessities. Though apartheid ended years ago, economically it still seems to breath it’s hot breath. I have seen with my own eyes the appalling conditions that millions live under.

Africa has taught me that poverty cannot be learned from books. Until now I had never really understood all those articles, books and movies about poverty. Until now, whilst staring it in the eye, tasting its sourness, until now I didn’t know or understand poverty. And I can not, even while it shakes hands with me, ever completely know their poverty. The next time you think you are having a bad day, or your leaking roof makes you so mad and frustrated, be thankful you have a roof to fix and a job to go to and a car to sit in in rush hour traffic. Ironically I am writing this on thanksgiving weekend.

Be thankful. I am.

"The difference between school and life? In school, you're taught a lesson and then given a test. In life, you're given a test that teaches you a lesson." 
Tom Bodett

We are the first generation that can look poverty in
the eye and say this and mean it: we have the cash;
we have the drugs; we have the science. Do we have
the will to make poverty history?”
- Bono, U2

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!