Out of Africa

I am scheduling this to post after I am Out of Africa. Goodbyes are bittersweet. Here is a quote from Meryl Streep's character in Out of Africa

"It's an odd feeling, farewell. There is such envy in it. Men go off to be tested, for courage. And if we're tested at all, it's for patience, for doing without, for how well we can endure loneliness."

This is a picture I took on my last walk to work. I liked the little sign pointing the way to the hospital.

Toe Jam

What can you do with a pantyliner, a kleenex and a band-aid? Well, I wish I'd taken a picture before I put my sock on! Yesterday I rammed my big toe into the tile stair leading to my bedroom. You know that feeling right after to stub your toe: it really hurts, but for a moment you're not sure if it's just a minor stub or a reason to call 911. Well, there is not 911 service here, so thankfully this incident wasn't one of those, but it was pretty bad. It was a bleeder. But luckily, I got straight into the shower to clean it off.

I kept it elevated all evening and it looked pretty good this morning. However, I was worried about what to do with it during my upcoming, approximately 36 hours of traveling. My goal was to keep it clean and dry for the duration of the trip. This is where the pantyliner, kleenex and band-aid come in. I washed my whole foot with soap and water, dried it and then wrapped my big toe with a pantyliner. This created a tube of 'fresh and dry' air for my toe to exist in. Next, I wrapped the pantyliner in a kleenex to prevent my sock from catching on the sticky part and topped the whole thing off with a band-aid.

Bon Voyage!

Indoor plants

Have you ever wondered where all of those beautiful 'indoor' plants come from? Well, in Botswana, they are actually outdoor plants. I have been surprised to see many plants here that I had previously only seen indoors! Here is a lovely poinsettia tree that I walk by on my way to work.

Other examples of 'indoor' plants are ficus-- you know, those miniature trees that people have in their homes and offices. Except here they are HUGE and OUTDOORS!

I am looking forward to being home and experiencing the flora and fauna of my home continent, but I have enjoyed the diversity of Africa.

Hebrews 10:24-25 (NIV) Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another-- all the more as you see the Day approaching."

Crazy Drivers

Here are a few recent examples of crazy drivers I've encountered

Cruzin’ and boozin’: I was recently walking to the petrol station near my house when a young man ‘cruzed’ (drove in a reclined position with one arm fully extended to reach the steering wheel and the window down in order to flirt with the ladies) by me while openly drinking a bottle of beer. Swoon, swoon (not really).

Buses that don’t bother to stop before expelling their passenger: I was at the bus rank when a large bus drove past me and a man jumped out of the bus in front of me while the bus was still moving.

Who’s wrong way? People seem to think it is okay to drive the wrong way down one-way streets— as long as they do so while repeatedly hooting their horns as if to announce, ‘here I come, you'd better watch out for me.’

Measurement as intervention and reflection

Researchers are often interested in how an intervention might impact a population. For example, as part of the work I am involved with, we are interested in how various HIV prevention strategies will impact HIV incidence and prevalence in Mochudi. In order to do this, we need to measure the existing incidence and prevalence of HIV. However, simply measuring these things may be considered an intervention. By providing HIV testing opportunities in the community that go above and beyond the existing HIV testing services, we are altering the environment enough to likely impact peoples’ knowledge and behaviors, and subsequently, the HIV incidence and prevalence... hopefully for the better.

This example of measurement as intervention is unavoidable. In some imaginary world, researchers might like to be able to wave an “HIV detecting wand” over a community and get a reading on the HIV prevalence and incidence. However, in the real world we don’t have that capability so we will have to use our current methods and understand that by measuring the HIV prevalence and incidence we are also providing an intervention that will likely impact the variables we are interested in... which may, in fact, be a good thing.

Other examples of "measurement as intervention" raise ethical issues where there is a conflict between the ‘purity’ of the data and providing research participants with needed care. I recently attended a presentation where the researchers, in the course of their study, identified many participants who presented with symptoms of depression. Although depression was a variable the researchers were interested in studying and may have been tempted not to ‘interfere,’ they were ethically obligated to link these participants with services to help address their depression.

During the presentation, a member of the audience challenged the researchers stating that by providing treatment for these depressed participants they were contaminating the data— as if the researchers had erred in their judgment. In essence, he was saying that if the researchers really wanted to know how depression might impact the outcome variables they need to let it ‘run its course’ without intervening.

This comment made me squirm in my chair— are some people really so concerned with the ‘quality’ of their data that they would hesitate to provide treatment to participants who need it just because intervening might complicate their data analyses? Researchers routinely bemoan how long it takes to apply for and get approvals from supervisory bodies (IRBs, etc.) and resent the fact that various entities are constantly looking over their shoulders and auditing their every move. This recent exchange helped me see why it is so important. Sometimes researchers get very focused on the needs of the study, how they can get the ‘best’ data possible and seem to lose sight of the fact that the whole reason for doing research in the first place is to improve peoples’ lives.

The more I reflected on this situation, the more I appreciated the opportunity to see this example of researchers doing the right thing even though it may have been ‘interesting’ to watch and see what happened with the depressed patients in the absence of appropriate psychological assessment and care. I thought back to my ethics courses in school and subsequent trainings. In these courses we learned about cases such as the Tuskegee syphilis experiments and gasped in horror that scientists could make such blatant ethical offenses. But, the truth is, unless we closely monitor our own behavior and allow external supervision of our work, we are likely to descend the slippery slope to similar sins. The end does not always justify the means.

The Strike

You may recall a few weeks ago I mentioned that government workers were threatening to strike. Well, we are presently in week three of the strike and tensions are mounting. The primary point of contention is that the government workers have not received raises in over 3 years so they demanded an immediate 16% raise. That demand has been negotiated down to something like 13%, but is still not within the range that the government is willing to consent to… so the strike goes on.

While the strike has not affected the availability of food and other necessities, it is impacting many important aspects of everyday life. Students and parents are upset about lost days of instruction and the reality that students will be ill prepared for their upcoming exams. Patients in the hospitals are reportedly suffering due to inadequate staffing and much of the work that depends on government personnel seems to have screeched to a halt—including getting responses from the Ministries related to the work I am involved with.

All of this is very inconvenient and, from as far as I can tell, the strikers don’t seem to be backing down. The office I often sit in during the day has a window overlooking the field where many of the strikers gather. They have loud set of speakers and routinely spend the whole day broadcasting music and speeches. One recent speech was primarily in Setswana, but the speaker was obviously mimicking Dr. ML King’s, “I Have a Dream” speech—I recognized the cadence and the key words, “I have a dream, that one day…”

It has been very interesting to listen to peoples’ opinions about the strike— and Batswana are very happy to share their opinions, even if you don’t ask to hear them. Most of my older colleagues are very disturbed by the strike. It is very un-like Batswana to behave this way, they say. Some of the younger generation is somewhat sympathetic- admitting that government workers are not well paid and while the cost of living continues to rise, their salaries have not. I’m not informed enough to takes sides, but it seems to me there are a lot of people around the world who have not seen raises in several years.

All of this is of heightened interest to me in light of one of the books I read during my reading spree this year: Ayn Rand’s “Atlas Shrugged,” also known as “The Strike.” The basic plot of this complex novel is that, instead of what we commonly see, the worker-bee, blue-collar employees going on strike, the innovative, movers and shakers do. This uncommon dynamic leaves the world in a perilous decline. I am no political scientist, but I can see some of the weaknesses of Botswana’s developing system being illuminated by the current strike. Hopefully it will be an opportunity for reflection and progress… only time will tell.

O Pioneers!

The history of every country begins in the heart of a man or a woman.
–Willa Cather in ‘O Pioneers!’

I thought reading Willa Cather’s ‘O Pioneers!’ would make me nostalgic for home, but I am finding that it is actually very germane to living in a young, developing country such as Botswana. While Batswana are not pioneering new geographic territory, they are pioneering a new democracy— writing the history of their country which started in their hearts. Indeed, my experience in Botswana has opened my eyes to the struggles of many African nations and people groups, from South Africans adjusting to post-Apartheid life to the ongoing sagas of politics and corruption that plague many African nations.

Some of the key themes of ‘O Pioneers!’ are shaped by the intense struggles and hardships that the families had to endure in order to survive on the plains of Nebraska. They didn’t have anything handed to them, but rather, they had to work for every success. Sometimes even hard work yielded failure due to conditions that were beyond their control. On several occasions, I have listened to people in Botswana describe the successes and failures of various African nations and people groups. The common theme of these testimonies is that those people groups who have had to struggle the hardest are the ones who continue to work the hardest to achieve success in their various pursuits.

My favorite example of this is the way one of my friends described the consistent narrative that, because of the extreme trials they have faced and overcome, Zimbabweans are exceptionally hard workers. This friend, after lamenting that some other people groups are constantly looking for handouts, Zimbabweans are always ready to ‘make a plan’ to solve a problem, seal a deal and move ahead. That is precisely what helped the pioneers— in every trial they were ready to ‘make a plan’ and see it to fulfillment.

Who would have thought that my 'home girl' (we're both from Nebraska), Willa Cather's work would be so relevant to my life and experiences in Botswana!?!?

On another note, when I spoke with my Grandpa (who lives in Nebraska) this weekend, I mentioned that I was reading ‘O Pioneers!’ He responded that he first read the novel while he was stationed in Guam during WWII. How amazing that two Nebraskans first read this wonderful work when they were as far away from home as they have ever been.

M-I-C... K-E-Y... M-O-U-S-E!

Shortly after I get home from Botswana, I will be speaking at a conference in Orlando... but I don't even have to wait until I get home to see Mickey!

Lessons from Botswana

I have been reflecting on some of the 'lessons' I've learned during my time in Botswana and thought I'd share a few with you:

1. Patience.

2. Dependence on God and my community of friends.

3. An expanded definition of the ‘right way’ to do things.

4. A greater appreciation for the journey of life in contrast to the destinations marked by specific accomplishments.

5. Gratitude for others making up for my linguistic shortcomings. (I am one of the only people I can think of in my immediate circle who only speaks one language and I owe a huge debt of gratitude to all of the people in world who make my life easier by speaking English in addition to their native language(s). I am also thankful that, since I only speak one language, the language I DO speak is English).

Happy Cinco de Mayo!

If you're considering a holiday trip to Botswana, Cinco de Mayo might be the holiday to aim for. They don't actually celebrate Cinco de Mayo here (which isn't surprising, since it is a Mexican holiday and Botswana has very little Mexican influence) but the weather so far this month has been amazing! It's been sunny and 75 degrees Fahrenheit everyday. The evenings are long, cool and pleasant-- perfect for getting lots of sleep.

Fashion faux pas

According to Wikipedia, a fashion faux pas is defined as 'an unfortunate error in fashion etiquette.' With the weather getting cooler (some nights it gets below 50 degrees Fahrenheit), the fashion scene in Gaborone is definitely changing. However, it seems that I am the one who has been committing the most offending fashion faux pas recently.

First, I broke out some of my long-sleeved shirts to wear to work. One day, I arrived wearing a bright orange one (which happens to be one of my favorites). Upon entering the office, I was informed that bright orange is the color of the opposition party and that people likely think that, by wearing this shirt, I am making a statement against the President.

Next, I often wear short socks with my Keen (sandal-like) shoes while I walk to work. It is miraculous how a simple pair of socks can prevent sand and rocks from entering the shoes. During the summer, I took the socks off when I arrived at work-- because even I know that socks and sandal-type shoes are NOT okay. But, with the cooler weather, it seems I have failed to remove my socks in a timely manner and a male coworker informed me that this was... as I already stated NOT okay.

Finally, my worst offense seems to be parading around with 'clothes pegs' on my person. In order to make it easier to take big steps during my walk to work, I used clothes pins (aka clothes pegs) to raise the hemline of one of my long skirts to just below my knees. When I arrived at work, I pinned the clothes pins to the straps of my backpack. Seeing the clothes pins on my backpack, one of my co-workers asked what the pins were for. I told her that I had used them to pin up my skirt during my walk to work. Her jaw dropped (literally) and she and all of the other people in the office began an exasperated flow of conversation in Setswana punctuated my the word pegs (aka pins). They asked if the pegs were EXPOSED during my walk and if anyone SAW them. I explained that by pinning up my skirt I was able to take longer, more comfortable steps and that YES, people had likely seen the pegs. My co-workers were shocked. I had to leave the office- but they were STILL talking about it when I left. So, note to self: don't wear pegs on your clothing.

I didn't, however, remove the clothes pins from my backpack and I continue to get questions and comments about them from strangers and acquaintances alike. It occurred to me that the clothes pins might symbolize something that I was unaware of- maybe, by sporting these pegs, I was projecting to the world that I am possessed by demons or 'available for hire.' But, alas, I've asked around about this and it seems that the only offense I make by having the pegs on my person is a simple fashion faux pas.

Check this out on YouTube or iTunes

My family sent me this link to a fantastic (short) presentation:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KVhWqwnZ1eM

For those of us in 'low-band-width' locations, you can also download it on iTunes by searching all or part of the title:

Debunking third-world myths with the best stats you've ever seen - Hans Rosling

It's kind of old (2006) but the messages are still relevant.

Happy Easter!

He is risen... He is risen, indeed!

This week I attended two (of the nine) Holy Week services at my church. Even with the blustery, wet weather, people turned out in their fanciest garb including beautiful African dresses, saris and springy western Easter apparel (which is funny because the season is fall here). I hope you are enjoying a lovely Easter weekend!

Blessings,

Katie

Those crazy Americans

Usually I blog about things that I find interesting thinking that others will find them interesting, too-- which is very egocentric. One of my blog readers suggested that I blog about things that I do that Batswana think are weird-- or uncouth.

I've come up with a few:

1) Hoarding: There has been some fear that the border-crossings would be impacted because of the current labor strikes. I was discussing this with some co-workers and I told them that I was going to the store to stock up on food and water. They laughed and said that this was 'very American' of me and implied that I was paranoid. Indeed, the food supply has not been interrupted (yet).

2) Talking through my nose: Recently a co-worker asked me to 'say something in American.' When I complied, she said that I sounded nasaly.

3) Drinking too much water: Soon after I arrived from the USA one of my co-workers said something like, "what is it with Americans and water... you guys drink too much of it." He noted that I carried a bottle of water with me wherever I went and I perceived that he thought it was very peculiar, probably hard on the kidneys and completely unnecessary.

4) Rolling in dough: There is a general perception that if you are from the USA you are rich. I am routinely asked by people to give them my shoes, clothes, pens, etc. as if I have an endless supply (this may relate to the [somewhat accurate] hoarding stereotype). Unfortunately, I do not have an endless supply-- but I do plan to leave many of these coveted belongings in Botswana when I leave.

The truth is that I may never know the things that Batswana find 'interesting' about me. I definitely attract a lot of stares and comments/ questions when I am out and about... if only I could read peoples' minds.

Thanks for the blog suggestion!

Trash talk

One of the fun things about living in a country other than the one you've grown up in is that everything is interesting... even garbage. When I first moved to Botswana, I was disgusted by the amount of garbage I saw everywhere. In the USA, I have been known to approach people who I see littering and ask them to properly dispose of what they've thrown on the ground. So, since moving to Botswana, I have had trouble biting my tongue when I routinely see people throwing candy wrappers, banana peels and other rubbish on the ground.



In some areas there is evidence that people try to put garbage in a designated spot. But in others, there is not.



At my house, we do pay for and have garbage service-- theoretically. Sometimes they come and collect our garbage, and sometimes they don't.



Also, there does not appear to be much of a recycling effort here. I used to separate my rubbish, but then I noticed that it was all eventually getting put in the same bin, so I've stopped. (Although I know the newspapers get passed on to someone who uses them for bird bedding).

I need you!

Okay blog readers-- I need you! I am running low on ideas for my blog. I know that when I get back to the USA you will have all kinds of curious questions about my experiences in Botswana and I will wish I had paid more attention to something you are interested in. So, please post your questions and suggestions for me and I'll do my best to blog in response. Thanks, Katie

Welcome back to Africa!

Since my return to Botswana, several inconvenient situations have arisen that, without any commentary from me, have prompted friends to look at me and say, sarcastically, “Welcome back to Africa.” I’m usually not a fan of sarcasm, but in these cases, they gave me a laugh and I think they might make you smile, too.

My co-workers and I found the vehicle we were assigned to drive to Mochudi was dangerously low on fuel. So, we made a bee-line for the petrol station—only to find the petrol station was out of petrol. Thank fully we were able to make it to another petrol station, fuel up and proceed safely to Mochudi.

Welcome back to Africa!

The internet was down on Wednesday leaving me feeling disconnected from the rest of the globe. Thankfully, this off-line time gave me an opportunity to relax and read on a beautiful day and once the internet was up and running again, I discovered I really hadn’t missed anything.

Welcome back to Africa!

Government workers (including boarder authorities) are staging a ‘go slow’ period and are threatening to strike over labor/ pay disputes. This has clogged up the boarders and made everyone a bit uneasy. I don’t know the outcome of this one yet, but previous frustrating circumstances have taught me that everything is going to be okay… I’m just hoping they keep the food trucks from South Africa coming.

Welcome back to Africa!

Footprint?

I am almost ¾ of the way through my time in Botswana and this realization has prompted me to think about what ‘footprint’ I want to leave here when I return home. As a scholar, I know that meaningful research moves slowly and I will not likely be able to claim any enormous breakthroughs in HIV/ AIDS research. However, I have made numerous breakthroughs in my own professional development that will contribute to the work I do from this point forward. Living and working in Botswana, I have developed friendships with people from all over the world; while at the same time, living nearly 10,000 miles away from my friends and family has strengthened existing bonds as well.

Living day to day in Botswana, I have been able to appreciate the challenges and opportunities facing this developing nation. This has radically changed the way I understand my own country, made me thankful for the blessing of being ‘born in the USA’ and given me a deeper perspective from which to view and interact with the world. This experience has taught me that, while I came to serve and to contribute to the good work that is going on here, I have received more than I imagined. So maybe the better question is, 'what footprint will Botswana leave on me?'

By the way, this is a picture of a lion's paw print from our safari over the Christmas/ New Year holidays.

Super Bug Returns

A designer in Seattle caught wind of the up and coming star, Super Bug, and fashioned this costume for him. It completely negates the camouflaging qualities of his natural leaf-like exterior-- but with the super-powers it brings, he doesn't need to blend into the background. He is the star of the show!

Super-Bug

This morning when I walked out my bedroom door, this lovely creature was lounging on the chair outside my room. I could not believe how huge he was-- so I thought I would share him with you. I didn't get a chance to measure him, because there were mosquitoes and I didn't want to stand around for too long. However, I think he was about 2.5" long and pretty thick and wide for someone with an exoskeleton. I considered making him a little red cape with an "S" on it, but, again, the mosquitoes would have made quick work of my ankles and I am trying to avoid malaria.

Newbie no more

This week it occurred to me that I am no longer the 'newbie' at work or anywhere, for that matter. Our research team has welcomed several new faces since I came on board and even my social circles and the group of people I live with are evolving to include people newer than me. Although I am still rather naive to some of the intricacies of life in Botswana, I am becoming more fluent in the culture. I get some pretty surprised looks from people when I greet them or respond to their greetings or questions in Setswana.

Mochudi clinics

I am impressed by the apparent accessibility of primary health care in Mochudi. There are a dozen clinics dispersed throughout the village and surrounding areas. So most residents have a clinic near them.



Another interesting aspect of health care here is that patients keep their own medical records. The records look like Pee Chee portfolios and many patients decorate the outsides of their records with magazine clippings and other art. Pregnant women get separate ante-natal records. This is apparently very convenient when a laboring mother presents at a clinic other than the clinic where she usually goes for check-ups. One nurse told me that women who are near their expected date of delivery carry their record EVERYWHERE they go... just in case.

This is a picture of the garden at one of the clinics in Mochudi. The staff gives some of the harvest to patients and sells the rest to help support clinic activities.



Here is flowering tree that I walk by each morning on my way to work. I was mesmerized by it and finally thought to take a picture of it so that I could share it with YOU.

Valentine’s Day Visit to the Bank

Dealing with money and banking in Botswana are two skills that I am still developing. I am accustomed to completing all of my large financial transactions electronically and rarely visiting the bank unless it is to make a deposit. Living in Botswana, however, I pay my rent and all of my other living expenses in cash. Whenever I get reimbursed for professional expenses at work, I get a check. Then, since I don’t have a bank account, I have to cash the check at the bank. I have learned to coordinate cashing checks and paying my rent so that I can turn the money directly over to my landlord.

My visits to the bank are always interesting. There is usually a crowd in the waiting/ queuing area ranging between ten and thirty-five people. Some of them are standing in a line, some are sitting on chairs and some just seem to be hanging out. I always join the queue expecting to wait and be served in turn. ‘In turn,’ however, is not as straight forward as you might expect. The line slowly progresses and people from the sitting and ‘hanging out’ crowds interject themselves into the line as it moves along. No one (except me) ever seems to be bothered that these people are cutting in the line. I never raise a stink, because I assume there is some secret system that I don’t understand.

Today I had the opportunity to go to the bank with a Matswana. I was psyched because I figured I would learn the secret system of waiting in line (or, not waiting in line as it often appears. I was not disappointed. Here’s the deal: You arrive at the bank and straight-away join the queue. Then, after you’ve established your ‘place,’ you get out of line and sit, stand, get a drink, etc. until your ‘place’ approaches the front of the line. Then, you rejoin the line in the place you originally established. It’s as simple as that.

Another difficulty associated with bank transactions is that I never really know what is going on between the time I give the teller my check and when she hands me my money. Today, being Valentine’s Day, I sent my check through the money-drawer to the teller and the teller sent the money-drawer back with candy. This was nice, but not what I wanted (i.e. money). Then, after a minute or two she sent through a pile of money that did not appear to be the amount that my check was for. When I picked it up, the woman next to me said, ‘that’s mine.’ So, not really thinking about it, I handed it to her. Thankfully, it really was hers. This woman apparently wasn’t happy with the candy that she was given, so she and the teller spent a few seconds exchanging candies through the money-drawer. Then, a man showed up behind me and asked the teller if she was going to break for lunch soon. She said she was not. Finally, the teller sent another pile of money through the drawer and it was mine. Success!

I wish I had a picture to show you of the interior of the bank. The Valentine's Day decorations were truly unique. Unfortunately, there are signs in banks prohibiting cell phones and cameras. People don’t seem to abide by these rules, but, as a guest, I always feel like I should. So, here is a picture of the outside of the bank.

Murals in Mochudi

This week I visited NGO's in Mochudi to learn about the HIV prevention messages that they use. I loved these murals on the Youth for Christ campus.

To and From Mochudi

Here is a picture looking out the windscreen on the way to Mochudi.



Here is the road sign indicating the ways to Mochudi and to Gaborone.



Here is a picture looking out the windscreen on the way back to Gaborone from Mochudi.


You (blog readers) seem to love the most mundane postings, so I thought this would be a real winner.

I had a busy and exciting day doing interviews today in Mochudi. I met some exceptional women who are leading NGO's and positively impacting young peoples' lives.

A Phew Phacts About Phones

Phone book: This is a picture of the 2011 Botswana phone book. Yes, that's right; one phone book for the entire country. (I mean, there are lots of copies of it, but it covers the whole country). I can't even imagine how thick a phone book for the entire USA would be. Thank God for the internet.

Receptionists: I recently had occasion to call local professionals at their businesses and ended up leaving messages with various receptionists. I told one receptionist my name (and even spelled it for her), who I was calling for, where I was calling from, why I was calling, etc. Then, when I began to recite my phone number she said, "hold on, let me get a pen." All along, I thought she WAS writing down all of the important details I had been relaying. Oh well. Often times, receptionists do not take messages, but rather tell you that the person is out and, if you're lucky, when a good time to call back might be.

Cell phone etiquette: You only have to pay for outgoing calls, so people seem to go to extraordinary lengths to answer incoming calls on their cell phones. (If you manage to answer the incoming call, you avoid incurring the fees associated with outgoing calls if you had had to return the call). In business and social settings it seems perfectly accepted that people leave their cell phones on and answer them whenever they ring.

Accessibility: Everyone seems to have a cell phone. This may contribute to the slimness of the phone book- I think it only covers land lines. There are three major carriers and, from what I can tell, most people us pre-paid service. You buy a sim card and then 'load' it with airtime. You can buy airtime anywhere-- or, as they say, 'where-eva, when-eva.'

Texting: SMS or Text messages are very popular. I frequently see a line of people sitting on a bench or curb looking down as if they were reading novels. Upon closer examination- they are most likely sending or reading SMS's.

"I feel like everyone is staring at me..."

At one time or another, each of us has had the feeling that 'everyone is staring at me.' This is especially true if you have lived through female adolescence or spent much time somewhere outside of your native country. There are places in Gaborone where diversity is the norm and I am definitely not any more stare-worthy than anyone else. However, my daily trek to work takes me through a few places where I definitely stand out. One of those places is the bus rank. This is where all of the mass-transit (combis, buses, taxis, etc.) off-load and pick-up passengers. There are dozens and dozens of tuk shops where you can buy individual pieces of candy, cigarettes, bananas, Coke, etc. and massive numbers of people going here or there.

I walk through the bus rank every day and I had a pretty good indication that I stood out because I am frequently the target of some pretty bizarre salutations (some of which I cannot repeat here). However, I tried to tell myself that these were just random acts of curiosity and I usually smiled, waved and was on my way.

This week gave me occasion to reconsider how much people must really be staring at me. It has been raining (rather, pouring) all week and I had to delay my trek to work because I knew my route would be flooded and I would have been drenched before making it two steps toward my destination. When I finally did embark on my route to work through the bus rank, I didn't really know what to expect. I am usually there during the 'rush hour' so I wasn't sure what it would be like later in the morning.

Well, it was still just as busy as it usually is at 0715 and I still got some of the same greetings as I made my way through. But, what affirmed my thoughts of feeling like I was being stared at was when my attention was summoned by a group of women and one of them yelled, "hey, you're late!"

She was right, I was late. I don't know whether to be fearful or flattered that I am being kept track of. Oh well. Until next time, here's staring at you. Thanks for reading my blog.

Rainbows

Crazy weather and double rainbows are not only good metaphors for my life, they have actually been a big part of my literal experiences lately. This is the rainy season and a single day can bring torrential rains followed by sunny skies and then torrential rains, followed by sunny skies... and so on. These crazy weather cycles bring with them some of the most beautiful rainbows I have ever seen. My life and work in Gaborone have been a bit unpredictable lately, as well. Thankfully, with each metaphorical 'torrential rain,' I have had some wonderfully bright rainbows, too.

Here are a few of my rainbow experiences from this week:

A visit to the US Embassy where they have a beautiful little garden surrounding the US flag and where a woman, after learning of my occasion for being in Botswana, commended the important work Botswana-Harvard Partnership does.

Bible study starting up again for 2011 and a friend from church taking time out of her afternoon to tote me around on an errand that I couldn't have done without her.

Meetings with colleagues from Gaborone and from home that help remind me of the 'big picture' and let me know that I may not know exactly where I am going, but I am not going alone.

Durban and back to Gaborone

I am back at work in Gaborone, and I thought I would post a blog about our safari-recovery trip to Durban. Mom had the opportunity to stay in southern Africa for an additional week after our safari ended, so we decided to 'recover' by the beach. I wanted to stay by the ocean and do a little shopping- two activities that are rather limited in Botswana and we thought Durban, South Africa would be the perfect spot.



Our hotel, the Oyster Box, was right on the beach. It was fantastic. We walked on the beach, waded in the ocean and pools, ate delicious seafood, toured the city of Durban, shopped, watched movies and just enjoyed being together in one of the most beautiful places on earth.



It was tough to say goodbye, but we had an amazing time!

Safari Chapter Five: Madikwe, South Africa

After a few days together in Gaborone, Mom and I headed out to the Tau Game Lodge in the Madikwe Game Reserve just south of the Botswana-South Africa border. Fortunately, the border crossing both coming and going was simple and quick. We arrived around noon and had lunch and then explored the lodge until afternoon tea and the evening game drive.



So, you've heard of the wild goose chase... well, we went on a wild dog chase. But it wasn't JUST another chase, we were in an open Land Cruiser with our armed ranger in pursuit of wild dogs who had reportedly, according to the CB radio, just made a kill. For almost 3 hours, much of it in the POURING rain, some of it within inches if an enormous electric fence, we tracked but never found the elusive canines.



Thankfully, when we arrived home (the lodge), we had a few minutes to freshen up before dinner- which started at 8:00 p.m. My mom ordered the beef filet and I ordered the kudu filet. A comparative analysis (conducted by me) revealed that the two entrees had identical tastes and textures… they were both delicious. However, this analysis left us wondering about previous meals and the authenticity of the meat labeling. Our ranger (now un-armed) ate with us.



We slept well and were pretty much ready to go when the 5 am wake-up call came. It was a beautiful morning, seemed like an extremely early sunrise, and the elephants were already lining up for their morning bath outside the lodge. We were in the Land Cruiser before 6 am and declined the opportunity to follow the wild dogs again; our ranger had another “hot tip” on the radio about the dogs being sighted really far away from the lodge. He asked us what time we needed to be back, leading us to believe that it would be another wild goose chase.

Our game drive was successful, though. We saw giraffe very close up and a baby giraffe in the bushes. But the highlight was when mom rounded out her “Big Five” game viewing: Katie spotted the white rhino! It was in a quarry of mud and he did a little dance for us before joining his comrades in the bushes. The white rhino is not actually white. It is brown/ grey, just like the black rhino, but with a wider mouth.



After the game drive we had breakfast and then relaxed before departing for our return to Botswana. At the border crossing, we ran into a group of internationals who were crossing over to tour South Africa after competing in the World Debate Championships in Gaborone. This was our third encounter with people from this group of 1300 competitors. First, we saw them at dinner the night before we left for South Africa, then we met two of them at the Tau Lodge, and this time they looked a bit ragged after what must have been a pretty wild after-party.

Our drive back to Gaborone was quick and easy. We went out to dinner at the Beef Barron- Katie’s favorite restaurant in Gaborone and got ready for our departure to Durban the next morning.



Oh, and somehow, in all of my blogging about the safari, I forgot to mention that we saw CHEETAH at our first camp. So here they are...

Safari Chapter Four: Chobe Game Lodge

We flew from Camp Okavango to Kasane where our adventure continued at the Chobe Game Lodge in Chobe National Park. The Lodge was on the mighty Chobe River and the accommodations were truly luxurious- with a cement foundation and everything (in contrast to our tents at the previous camps... although the tents were very nice, too).



The schedule at Chobe was a bit different than the schedule at our other camps- wake-up call at 0500, tea at 0530, game drive at 0600-0830, breakfast at 0830, boat safari at 1030, lunch at 1230 followed by free-time, afternoon tea at 1530, game drive at 1600-1900, and dinner at 1930. In Chobe, we saw many of the same animals we had seen at the other camps. In addition, we also saw cape buffalo, black-backed jackal, dung beetles, red bishop birds, huge crocodiles and a gaggle banded mongooses (or mongeese, I don't know what the plural of mongoose is).





The park is known for its elephants- there are 45,000! We also saw more giraffe than we had seen at the other parks. We even saw some baby elephants and one that was only about 2 weeks old.



Some of the main highlights at Chobe were the lions and lion cubs which we were able to observe for an extended period of time. On our last morning game drive we saw two lionesses and three lion cubs who were napping and having a leisurely morning.





One day during our stay at the Chobe Game Lodge we took a day trip to Zimbabwe to visit Victoria Falls. WOW! They were much more expansive than we had envisioned and truly a wonder of the natural world. After our visit to the falls we went out for lunch and then visited a crocodile farm.





We had one stop left on our safari, so stay tuned for chapter five!

Safari Chapter Three: Camp Okavango

We were warmly greeted at Camp Okavango by our guide and camp hosts. Our first activity was a canoe (mokoro) ride. Traditionally, these vessels were carved from mokoro wood, but environmentally friendly fiberglass is now the preferred material. We walked to the water’s edge and saw lion tracks and talked about the five deadly snakes of Botswana. During the canoe ride we saw a crocodile that was trying to sneak up on a stork and two cranes. We also saw a scorpion that is thought to have magical powers to turn men into women and vice versa. The water was shallow and clear and the mode of propulsion was “poling”, where the guide, while standing, used a long forked stick to push the canoe through the shallow, crystal-clear water. We had a nice jovial snack time with guides. Our refreshments included dry lemon drinks and biltong, which is similar to beef jerky.



On our walk back from the canoe launch site, we saw a big giraffe. We were able to get within 20 feet of him, which was a majestic experience and we got a lot of pictures.



The excitement and magic continued when we arrived at Christmas dinner to see a beautifully decorated dining room awaiting us. The Christmas tree had flashing lights and there were bowls of spray-painted pods. A cylindrical “party cracker” was placed at each plate setting. We popped them to find a prize and a proverb, which we shared by reading around the table and then guessing the author. Among the other guests were a couple from Parma, Italy and four friends from rural England. The staff also joined us at the table. Dinner was delicious and included barbecued turkey (on the braii, which is a barbecue), ham, and all the fixings. They had even prepared a special Christmas cake. Following the feast, we all gathered around the roaring fire and sang a lot of silly songs, played a lot of fun games, and celebrated with a few Christmas carols.

On Sunday, we were awakened at the usual 5:30 am and breakfast at 6:00. We went in the boat to Mojei Island for a walking safari. During the boat ride to the island, Jessie spotted the first crocodile of the day and won “the prize”. Once on the island, we walked for 4 hours. It was long and hot. However, our sweat was rewarded when we saw a pair of lions sleeping in the distance. We approached them under the direction of our guide. The main point was “No matter what happens, don’t run”. We observed the female who got up and sauntered off in the opposite direction into a refuge of trees. Eventually the male woke up and noted that his partner was gone and he, too walked away slowly. On this walk we also saw wart hogs, impala, red leschwe, and many kinds of birds. There was no snack.  We thought we were going to die, not from the lions but from dehydration, pollen, and exhaustion.





After lunch, we went back to our rooms to take a nap and then we got together to look at pictures. We had tea and chocolate éclairs with maraschino cherries at 3:30. Then we went out on the boat to see hippo and did we see hippo! Our guide was gently propelling us down the channel when Jessie spotted a hippo. When she pointed out the hippo, anticipating that we could slow down to view it more closely, our guide put the boat in full throttle and we zoomed away, narrowly averting capsizing.



Apparently, hippos are the most dangerous animal in Africa, and they can inadvertently capsize a boat because they displace so much water. They are really big and they completely submerge, making them impossible to see when they are under the water. Their jaws are enormous and they open all the way. Once we were in the open water of the lagoon, we were able to view the hippo more safely. We saw several hippo, most notably three at one time bobbing, snorting, spouting, and twirling their ears. We saw the Malachite King Fisher, the most beautiful bird of all.
Back at the tents, we showered and then went to dinner with our fellow campers.

After dinner, one of the camp guides walked the three of us back to our tents but just as we approached Jessie and Laurie’s tent, we spotted two hippos next to the trail. It was alarming. We walked backwards slowly and the hippos did not move on. So the guide, the smallest of the four of us, announced that he was going to get a stick to throw at the enormous hippos. The stick didn’t work so he sent us back to the lodge where we explained the situation and called for backup. Another camp guide went to help the first guide while we stayed by the fire with the other guests. Eventually we got the all-clear signal and were escorted to our tents. We heard the hippos during the night but they did not bother us because they are unable to climb stairs and our tents are on elevated platforms.

On Monday we were up at 5:30 as usual, breakfast at 6:00 (French toast) and a power boat ride back to the island for another walking safari. We saw baboons, wart hogs, kudu, a Nile monitor lizard, and the fur of the lion in little tufts along the trail. It was breezy in the early morning and we only walked for 2.5 hours.



After 3:30 tea time, we went fishing. This was not a routine safari activity, but our guide was glad to accommodate our request. We took a 20 minute power boat ride to “the spot” which was a nondescript place in the channel that looked like a junction of two channels where elephants and hippos might access the water. Upon grounding the boat on the reeds, our guide reached into a black plastic garbage bag and pulled out fists full of flying ant wings which he threw into the water. The fish responded positively so we baited our hooks with raw beef and cast them into the water. In a matter of minutes, the fish were biting and biting and biting and biting. We ended up with over 20 tilapia. We took the catch back to camp and the kitchen prepared one of the largest tilapia and served it with all of the other dishes for our dinner, which we shared with the family from Australia and the camp staff.





After dinner we retired to our tents for some much needed rest. In the morning we went on a relaxing mokoro ride in the shallow channels of the delta. One of the highlights was seeing a chameleon slooowly travel along a branch near the shore.
Later that morning we were off to Kasane where we stayed at the Chobe Game Lodge.