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Chobe Elephants
Tired of being watched by the humans, they left for quieter waters.Return to Nata.
“Is this your underwear?” Anouk held up my red lacy French cut underwear up so I could see it from the front cabin.
“Yep,” I had hung it up to dry and I guess the sway of the truck meant it was not staying up.
“Put it on the dashboard,” Derick suggested. Sure, it would look real good next to the battered dog eared FHM. Makes him look like a real trucker.
Leaving Maun behind, we drove ahead towards Nata camp. Botswana has this annoying love affair with barrier gates. Every ten miles a rusting barrier swings on the edge of a metal barrel and manned by uninterested Batwanas. There were no shortages of donkeys to evade and even a horse hopping across the road. Why did the horse hop across the road? Because its front hooves were tied together. Probably to prevent it from escaping. Well, looks like he had the last laugh.
Botswana has a negative population growth due to the highest infection rate of HIV/Aids in all of Africa. It’s a sad but truthful fact. The average age is 19 for men and 18 for females. Botswana has enjoyed unprecedented wealth since
Two Ground Hornbills Perched
Victor pointed out two ground hornbills... independence. Possibly one of the smarter moves in history, wait until the Brits depart and then miraculously make some diamond mine discovery. As strong as their Pula (meaning rain) is, poverty prevails. Despite the government spending millions of Pulas on a public program of HIV/Aids care, they still have the highest infection rate. Safe sex signs are everywhere and condoms are being handed out like candy but that doesn’t change anything. Changing beliefs of anyone educated or not is challenging. Willing to change your beliefs takes courage. If the people of Botswana fail to find the courage to test themselves and seek help to understand the disease, they are in danger of becoming extinct.
We arrived into Nata rest camp on the edge of the Botswana-Zimbabwe border close to night fall. It was quiet, more so than the last time I was here. Nicole was looking for a prime tent erection site while I plunked mine at a spot completely random. After the tent was up, I realised I was in the exact same spot as I was the last time. Underneath a small tree directly in front of the truck.
“Hey, this is where Cynthia had her first
Toddler Elephant Frozen in Midstride
.. screw that! Worry about what's in front of us! snog with the German!” I called to Derick. Derick looked at the truck roof.
“That’s right! I was on the roof!”
“It was like Bold and the Beautiful,” we reminisced. Ah, the memories. But frankly, my memory wasn’t all that fantastic; I manage to lose my way back from the reception area where I spent 20min explaining to the mama behind the counter how to recharge my camera battery. Embarrassed, I had to accost a security guard to direct me back.
Derick and the Scandinavians were, where else but the bar. The boys were talking in their own tongue while Derick was staring into space, just another piece of African furniture.
“What are you doing for new years?” he asked me.
“I don’t know, I haven’t thought that far yet. I know I don’t want another cold one. Scotland was fantastic, but it was too cold.”
“Well, we’re thinking either Vic falls, or Moz or maybe something in South Africa,” he replied.
“Okay,” I replied for want of a better response. Was that an invitation or a statement? If I could choose right now where I want to be for New Years, it would be back home for a
Kudus
Two female kudu does, the magnificent male is behind the bush... whimp. Dave Cocktail Party at his parent’s place - good view, good friends and nice weather.
“So when are you going back home?”
“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t mind spending Christmas with family and friends. So I may be coming back for a rest stop here in December, but you know me. I plan and it changes.”
At dinner, Derick snatched Nicole’s bread while she was at the bar ordering a drink. Chatting up a large male in the process, mind you that is up to interpretation - he could be chatting up her. She came back to look at her soup without the bread.
“A baboon took it,” Derick said.
“What?!” she looked around at everyone and realised I didn’t have soup but had bread.
“A baboon did take it,” I said looking at Derick. She snatched it back and thought twice.
“I’ll get hepatitis or something now,” she complained.
“You can’t get hepatitis from someone touching your bread,” I said.
“Don’t you get it from germs or something,” she replied.
“Hep A is known to be transmitted by eating fruit washed in contaminated water but not the rest. It’s transmitted through body fluids and in particular blood.”
Crocodile
Disturbed from sunning in the sunshine... Aussie Crocs are bigger... I said, trying to think back through a few years of university lectures amongst the fuzz of too many gin and tonics of late.
“Didn’t Pamela Andersen get it through humping?” she said. I fought back an urge not to snap and pull out the soap box.
“Body fluids, so yes. And she has hepatitis C,” I said. Good to know those gossipy magazines has managed to occupy a few of my brain cells.
Let me dust off the soap box here. HIV and Hepatitis are social diseases. I say that because there is a stigma attached to them. If you have an infectious disease then you did something wrong in order to be infected. If a person has cancer then he or she is a victim. HIV is preventable in most scenarios but the virus itself did not manifest itself because people began having too much sex with too many people or started to jab themselves senseless with needles to get high on heroin. It’s a terrible snap judgement we make and society on the whole are afraid of viruses. At the dinner table, would you want to sit next to the person with HIV or the person
with cancer? Are we not more afraid of diseases that can be passed to us regardless of the means? There are many reasons why a person may have HIV or Hepatitis. A person may have HIV because their mother was HIV positive, needle stick injury or in the early 80’s blood transfusion. A person with hepatitis may acquire it through the same reasons or if on long term medication for another illness.
Botswana has a HIV infection rate that is so astounding the life span dropped by 36% in one year. The people of Botswana are dying. Until people are able to feel they will not be ostracized for having an infectious disease, we are not even half way to solving the crisis.
“Where’s Derick?” Albert asked. I look around and he’s not in the truck.
“Probably in the toilet or something,” I replied.
“Where’s Derick?” Anouk asked.
“In the toilet or something, I really don’t know.”
“Where’s Derick?” Carl asked.
“I don’t know, why?” He shrugged his shoulders; they just wanted to know where he was.
“Bek? Bek?”
“Yeah?” I called back to Derick from my tent. I see his outline from the mesh opening holding his
Pumba & Co.
They are so cute... and very very tasty sleeping mat.
“Is that your tent? Can I share your tent? The truck is already filled with mozzies and I don’t feel like being chowed on,” he asked.
“Sure.”
I hear the rain splatter on the tent. It scatters through right in between Derick and me. One of us would have to get out to put up the rain cover. Tent zippers went up as the others came out to cover their tents. I contemplated yelling for one of the boys to put up mine since they were up. Thought better of it and went outside to do it myself. As I stood up, Derick rolled over and mumbled ‘you’ve got to be kidding me.’ No need to get up let the short one do it.
“Where did you sleep last night?” Harald asked Derick.
“In Bek’s tent,” he replied.
“Where did you sleep last night?” Alex asked.
“In Bek’s tent,” he repeated.
“Where were you last night?” Hendrik asked.
“In Bek’s tent,” he repeated again. I think he needs to brief the group on his whereabouts. “I dreamt it was raining last night,” he said to the boys.
“Oh it did rain last night,” Alex confirmed for
Predators, the Lazy Kind
He looked at us sleepily.. him.
“Really?” Derick feigned surprise.
“Yep, had to put up the rain cover,” Hendrik supplied helpfully.
“He knew it rained, he just rolled over and let me put up the cover,” I said spoiling the fun.
“I thought about it, but you got up so I thought to let you do it.” Good excuse.
Chobe, Pink Mystery Meat and Way Too Many Elephants.
Everyone was excited about our game drive through Chobe. It was our second last chance to see a lion and a leopard. True we had only seen two of the big five, but we were almost guaranteed to see a rhino in Zimbabwe. Premature, but I like to stay positive. Derick handed us a cooler with our lunch - bread and mystery meat. “The meat is pink but that is all they had. Polony. So don’t let anyone complain they’ve got pink meat.” Last time it was a frightening large stick of salami.
Victor started up the open jeep and we left Derick behind to do whatever it is he does when we bugger off. Lodges of varying standards lined the road as we headed towards Chobe. Last time I saw 6 elephant behinds,
Cat Nap
before rolling back over.. (pst, if you look at the tree, his friend is also sleeping!) not even a thousandth of the elephant population of Chobe. My favourite seat is always the back; it makes for a fun bumpy ride. The water shimmered underneath a beautiful blue sky; a lone hippo submerges like a rotund submarine and disappears to join his pod.
Victor points to two ground hornbills perched on a tree much to Albert’s delight.
“Screw them, worry about what’s in front!” Carl whispered urgently. In front stood a toddler elephant, frozen in mid stance wandering what to do. Half fascinated and half wary of us. Eventually he trumpeted weakly and ran off. We sped along parallel to the water stopping for impalas, kudus, warthogs and more impalas. Towards the water a pod of hippos half submerged relaxed idly and looking like they too were enjoying the Botswana warmth. A mighty roar erupted from the bellows of two male hippos, a flash of pink flesh from their gaping jaws broke the muted landscape and the large jaws clashed. The lucky with cameras ready had a million dollar shot of jaws wide open displaying perpetually sharpen canines, the rest enjoyed the spectacle.
Victor moved us on towards a herd of female elephants and their
About to Charge
A stamp of a foot, a trumpet directed at us... charges playing in the water, surrounded by the sliver metallic animals, all taking a peek through their open windows. Bored with human intrusion, they trailed off to quieter waters. We stopped at alligators, warthogs and more impalas. There were giraffes but we were already bored with them.
The chatter of Vervet monkeys were echoing from inside an abandoned power shed. Stopping nearby for lunch, the boys pulled out the lurid bright pink meat and looked at me. “That’s all they had,” I protested on behalf of Derick. But it was a startling Barbie pink. Albert had cornered Victor into a conversation about birds while the rest of us tried to eat quickly to get back on the drive. Conversation led to travel insurance.
“I’m insured for sky diving up to 3 jumps but not insured for Quad Biking.”
“Is that why you didn’t go quad biking?”
“Um, don’t generally make promises to my travel insurance company.”
“What was the promise?” One of the boys asked. I wonder how long they had wanted to ask. Probably didn’t remember till then.
“My god parent’s son died in a motorcycle accident. I was little and they made me promise not to ride
a motorcycle. They are the reason I am here today, it’s a small promise but it means something to them.”
“Quad biking isn’t the same.”
“I know. Its not that I disagree with quad bikes or motorcycles but its such a small thing to me and such a big thing for them. It’s just a personal choice.” They accepted my reasoning and left it at that.
Victor hopped from one foot to the other, “There were some lions spotted yesterday, I can’t promise but they may still be there. It’s on the far side of the park. Long way. We have to drive very fast. Is okay?” We nodded and climbed on board. Racing parallel to the river again, we stopped briefly for a monitor lizard, warthogs and finally a lion. From my vantage point, I could see two. Lying a few meters away, sleepy and indifferent to us from their resting spot under the tree. A young male with a reasonable mane lifted his head up from his paws and blinked at us sleepily before resting his jaws back down. Another tucked under the shade of the tree had his paws half up the tree, sound asleep. Just
Angry Angry Elephant
...then gave us the elephant equivalent of the finger.. two big lazy cats. Magnificent.
We had to hurry back. Zipping along we ran into a herd of elephants that were less than impressed we were there. Another female herd and young of various ages, they were on either side of the road. Victor drove right into the middle of them. “Fuck!!!” Carl screamed under his breath. No need to startle the ellys. He scrambled to the middle as they began mock charging us. They thundered behind us, kicking up a bit of dust and trumpeted at us again. The elly equivalent of giving the finger. “Fuck! Let’s go,” Carl muttered again. Not a happy Norwegian. Another middle aged elly charged at us, threatening us and I began to think maybe Carl had a point. Surrounded by ellys thundering past us, it was an awesome experience if not a little pulse racing. “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck” Carl muttered from his perch on my lap. Not happy.
We continued to encounter more elephants, running across the road, by the road, blocking the road and thundering out of bushes to surprise us from behind. “Oh for Fuck’s sake!” Carl muttered frustratingly. “Come on, let’s move along now.” I tried not to
Surrounded.
...and they kept trumpetting, mock charging... laugh. With his mended fake Gucci sunglasses on top of his head, he shook it in frustration as another elephant stood in our path. “Oh come on!” He moved on only for another to come popping out. “Just take me home!” Carl cried in anguish. He had enough of the Chobe Elephant population. We closed in towards the gate before we stopped again for some giraffes hanging close to the road. “You know, the termite mounds here, just aren’t as impressive,” Albert said ruefully. Carl and I masked a snigger. Termite mounds? Almost trampled by elephants and all he could comment on were termite mounds. The giraffes peered at us and I think they too were a bit offended that Albert was more concerned about the phallic shaped mounds of mud than them. Victor started the jeep. It didn’t start. He tried again and again till it ticked over. “Oh how embarrassing,” he admitted in his quiet voice and wide smile.
Speeding back towards our truck, baboons watched the comings and goings from the roofs of supermarkets and atop bus stops. The people milled about without a care in the world. “Ask how many elephants Carl saw?” I yelled
Take Me Home...
...much to Carl's dismay, 'I'm smiling but I am NOT happy. Let's go.' out to Derick as we parked the jeep. Carl muttered a few more Norwegian swear words and thanked Victor. Tipping Victor for a unique experience, we waved goodbye to our Chobe experience. “So did everyone enjoy themselves?” Derick asked me back in the truck. I thought about Carl and nodded, “Yep.”
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