A night on the pan

The pan appeared to go on for ever

Sun rise and sunset on the pan was beautiful. Night was frigid though as all the heat quickly vanished into the night sky. It was spectacular to stay awake long enough to watch the milky way move across the night sky. 

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Sunday we went to one of the salt pans in northeast Botswana. It was more clay than we expected. Apparently on one side of the pan it's more salt like and they actually mine table salt from some portions of pans in the area.

I'm bringing a meerkat home. US customs will totally be OK with that, right?

On the drive out to the salt pan we stopped to see a herd? clan? group? den? Timon's peeps? of meerkat The little buggers are so much smaller than I thought they would be.

The "cats" are about the size of a ferret. One of the local people had habituated them to people, so Cyndra and I got to walk up fairly close to take pictures. We got to about 50ft away.

Our presence did not affect their behavior to the slightest. They sat around and groomed each other. It was funny to see one of them clean his butt, the same way my precious kitty does. I've thought about my cats surprisingly little, but seeing the munchkins roll over and groom their butts really made me miss my morning doses of cat butt.

It was really interesting to hear the chirp like purrs of the mercats to each other. Along with a lion cub, they are now on my list of critters to take home.

Butterflies, my butterflies!

Admittedly, it is winter and the dry season, so few butterflies are flying now. However, things are still flying and my collection is slowly growing bit by bit. Every so often I take my net with me and pause every now and again to chase a bobbing blur of color. Currently I’m at 36.

Some of my favorite moments are when someone asks what my net is for. When I explain they say “Oh, but no butterflies are flying now [you silly girl]. You should come back in the summer.” I agree and then offer to show them my catch of the day. I take each one out, spread the wings, and let them marvel at the beauty. They tend to then be rather quiet for the rest of the conversation.

In a rut: where are the children?!

Today was a particularly low day. The children were sent home on Monday for their month long school holiday. This dismissal was a week early. A disease (diarrhea?) is going around and the government wanted to curtail the spread in preschools.
The terribleness was not really due to events that happened today day or wandering around not knowing what to do with all the children missing. The larger culprit was lingering frustrations and disappointments, and probably some loneliness. I was further saddened to have a string of unfortunately mundane events reinforce the negative feelings that I was having.
Perhaps a tipping point for today was when one of the local people at the daycare who was telling me I should give her the shirt I was wearing because she wanted it and “we are friends”. She has continuously demands things from me “in a joking manner”. However, she laughed, hopefully in embarrassment, when I asked what she was giving me, as her friend, and why I should give her all these things if she gives me nothing.
Yesterday I returned from an overnight visit to one of the salt pans. It was the first touristy thing I have done and the most expensive. The experience was very disappointing in many ways. The most destructive component may have been the discussion with a fellow volunteer on the way back. The discussion gave voice to and articulated the frustrations and surprises that we have encountered. It also showed us that we have had similar experiences, so “it’s not me”.
I have been having feelings like: What is my purpose here
What can I do in 2 months?!
I’m not wanted (this is not entirely self-generated)
I just don’t understand the situation
Wow, I totally misread that and had no idea that this is how it actually is
I can’t do anything here
I’m not helping
Fix yourself if you don’t want my help
In the midst of these questions, I have struggled with the Batswana (plural for Motswana, which a person who is from Botswana).
Many negative customs have made getting things accomplished even more difficult. I have also been besieged by feelings of hostility, requests for money as though it is owed to them and money grows on trees everywhere outside of Botswana, requests for my phone number shortly after greeting a man (but I am apparently expected to greet people so…), and the sense that I am inconveniencing people even though they are paid to do something.
I had hoped that there would be an exchange of learning, or just an exchange of anything. Instead, I feel I’m constantly up against a wall. It’s as though they don’t want me or anything I have to offer. The longer I’m here, the more I think I have to offer, but they still remain uninterested. Is that just a culture thing, or are they really just indifferent?
The tour books tout Batswana as friendly, welcoming people. Two Americans that I met near the pans remarked on how they have always been impressed while traveling in Africa by the "kindness of the people". Why have I not experienced this? I cannot comment on what people are like in all of Botswana. Maun is very different from all the other parts, as it is the center of the tourist industry and thus inundated by tourists. Perhaps the incessant flux has colored the view of everyone that I have met.
The family I am living with is nice. They have let me into their home beyond just letting me stay here. They have cooked for me, eaten (and enjoyed!) food that I cooked for them, and let me into their lives a bit. I think they are the only people who have showed any interest in "showing me Botswana". I will conjecture that many Batswana I have met feel exploited. As a result, they are reluctant to show me anything or to care about the experience that I have here. However, this would be an unfortunate interpretation because in many places tourism offers the only jobs and is lucrative to the alternative of working at the local school. It also would be sad for people to have such little pride in their own country that they don’t want to show it off to the rest of the world that is coming to visit.
I ended the day at the place that has become my favorite location in Maun - Barcelos. It offers fast food, alcohol, coffee, and wifi! I live for wifi. I went to call my family and research places to go tour. However, I ended up looking up what the Peace Corps is doing here and where their volunteers are specifically located. I found blogs for some recent and current volunteers. It sounds sick, but hearing the volunteers suffer with the same frustrations I have was a huge comfort. The blogs covered successes and moments like: good job…” but nothing happens.”
Reading individual posts or pieces written for newspapers I saw the theme of frustration and culture shifts. Some of the sentiments were more positive than my current feelings, but it is not fair to compare my one month of being here trying to find footing (in the midst of the staff being on strike and the students being let out for a month of holiday....) with the community involvement that a volunteer reaches after months of working on a project. They also have a greater chance of success as they have time to stay and push through, while I am leaving soon, probably before I have time to push though. The volunteers spoke of persistence and the true trial not being avoiding the frustration that I am in, but pushing through it. Regardless of what the volunteers have done themselves, they reminded me of self motivation and persistence.
All these rosy feelings did not prevent me from giving my taxi driver a huge ear full on the way home. His fourth sentence was asking for my phone number and if he can call me or take my picture. It is not his fault that every other taxi driver has made a nearly identical conversation. He, however, got a rant about respecting women, how an American would not do such a thing, and how I would be ashamed if someone in my country treated a guest such a way. It was similar to a conversation that I had to have earlier in the day about how money does not grow on trees in the USA and an American would never ask a visitor for money, but would try to ensure that they had a good impression of America.
I returned home to my Batswana family, had dinner, and watched TV. My short time makes me more frantic than a long term volunteer, but I must remain motivated and fight the adversity that I have here. It is different than the struggles that I face at home, but that is why I am here: to fight new battles and do the best that I can in this new way. This time is about the innocent children who have been born into retched conditions, not fighting a stagnant society. Now, how to go about this....

Horse riding - week II

Tuesday was session II of horse riding. Everything went smoothly (you’d be surprised how quickly logistical problems appear here…) and the kids had a great time. We took the same group of 8 children. Eventually more children will get to go, but these children were chosen for their developmental level and because we have release forms signed from their parents. There was no surprise boat ride this time, but the children learned how to make the horse go, stop, and turn. They also got to give the horses treats – carrots.
I love this picture of the children smiling.

The Crimson Breasted Roller - indcredible

There is the most beautiful bird that lives around the daycare, a crimson breasted roller. It has aqua colored wings and when it flies the sun flashes off the blue and it looks like an aquamarine sailing through the air. I couldn't get a good image of the back of its wings, but you can get an idea of how beautiful it is just by looking at it sitting on the fence or taking off.

Merrily I chomp along

I have gotten to try a variety of new foods here. I am so blessed to have had these opportunities as the general food situation in Botswana is “not enough”. The majority of families don’t have enough food. Many children at the daycare don’t have a meal when they go home at 2 or before they come in the morning.

The mother of one of the kids at the daycare volunteers and helps at the daycare each day. When we were making flowers with the kids, she mentioned that Rose was the name of her late sister. I asked what the cause of her sister’s death was, she casually answered “malnutrition”.

Some people do have some food in Botswana and many of those that do have beef. Oh the beef. Beef is a major product in Botswana and cattle can be spotted everywhere, most frequently in or slowly sauntering across the road. Some company donates meat to the daycare, so the children eat it. The family I am staying with also eats a ton of beef. Tshidi asked what I eat most of at home, “chicken or beef or?” I admitted that I don’t cook much meat for myself. She started at me blankly and after a moment responded “oh, so you eat a lot of chicken?”

The family I live with cooks nearly every night and I think that their food is fairly representative of the food that the middle class eats. Food that I have had outside their home has also indicated that their habits are representative. Tshidi’s family typically eats a meat, a starch, and a vegetable. In the meals that I have had with them so far the meat has been one of chicken, goat, or any part of a cow. The veggie was mashed butternut squash (this is hugely popular) or rape. The starch has been pappa (maize I think), sorghum, or rice. Pappa reminds me of grits, if they were much drier and so clumpy that they would stand on their own. Sorghum is like brown pappa that tastes a bit more like whole wheat. Unless they are eating rice, they eat with their hands and use the pappa or sorghum to clump up the veggies and meat. It also seems to be popular to have a chicken and potato like stew/curry with rice.

It was really nice to finally try sorghum, even if I don’t take a package home. Pappa is nice only in its ability to pick up the flavor of whatever you are eating it with. I was surprised by how dissimilar goat is to lamb; it is more chewy, stringy, and smoky rather than smooth in flavor.

The most adventurous thing that I have tried was ox tail. Batswana cut up the entire animal and cook up every single piece. Even at restaurants you get all kinds of funky bones in your meal and as you gnaw away at them you begin to wonder if there is any meat on them. The ox tail was pretty nasty. I tried to politely finish the piece they gave me, but my bone wasn’t nearly as clean as theirs was. There is NO elegant way to gnaw away at the ox tail. I’m not even sure what we were eating as it didn’t seem to have a lot of meat. It was really difficult to note any experience beyond the gooey brown gelatinous case the bone was in. That part was probably supposed to be tasty...

Other adventurous trials included fruit chutney flavored potato chips. How could one resist? And how would one guess that they taste so good! I couldn’t imagine what they could taste like. I did one of my favorite travel activities – I went to the grocery store. It’s shameful to enjoy a grocery store so much, but it’s like a treasure hunt to find all the foods that are different to what I have in the States. The particular run I went on the other day was for junk food. The haul included:
Maize potato chips
Spicey Mexican flavored and fruit chutney flavored potato chips
Some other maize snack
A beautiful chocolate and rice flake blob
A fruit juice and milk drink (very lovely)
A very viscous, yet clumpy, drink made from maize (maize milk?)

I also made a trip to the liquor store. Botswana manufactures next to nothing, but they have like 6 varieties of beer. They also have bottled gin and tonics. There were quite a few hard liquors from South Africa that I have never seen before (including mint flavored), but I didn’t think I could hold those.

To complete the autopsy of my consumption thus far, we must cover chocolate. The chocolate is terrible. The cocoa content is not mentioned on a package of any chocolate bar here. Perhaps this is because they don’t have any cocoa in them and they would better be referred to as “chocolate flavored candy” than proper chocolate. The bars taste like they are made with more sugar and different kind of fat or milk solid than Dove or Belgian chocolate. Needless to say, this issue results in a bit of chocolate withdrawal. The most lovely chocolate that I have been able to find is the mass of cornflakes and chocolate, which is similar to the birds nests that we used to make for Easter or the spiders at Halloween.

The cakes and sweets here have done nothing to compensate for poor chocolate. The sweets are closer to sweet breads than cakes. Perhaps this is an effect of Botswana being so dry and far from a natural sugar source? Maybe sweets have just not been developed as part of their cuisine the way beef has.

Luckily, and as expected, the food is much better than the tour books indicated. The local food is tasty. The pseudo British ex-pat food or anything you can find at one of the lodges is 3 times as expensive and pretty nasty. I do miss chocolate though.