So, with our new crew in tow, off we left for our 3rd country of this trip this morning, Botswana.
Today’s drive tested our patience. Leaving Windhoek, the scenery started out interestingly, with hills and lots of vegetation. However it soon turned into flat land, with scrubby vegetation, with hardly any towns to look at. For the first time I actually nodded off as we drove along. Up until now, I have had FOMO (a new acronym for me-Fear of Missing Out).
We did have one spark of interest when we stopped for groceries in one of the bigger towns along the way. It was a busy service town, with stop lights and everything. And surprisingly it was an opportunity to see a lot of Herera women in their traditional outfits. We stopped into a Wimpy’s at a gas station and while standing in line, a couple of them came in to join the queue. I turned to look at the woman right behind me and looked up, and up and up. And her outfit was amazing. Some of the groups of them were open to having their pictures taken, but one group that one of our travellers tried to engage in conversation with, immediately said, “$100 for a picture.” Naturally they generate a lot of interest. I had assumed they only dressed up for the tourists in the area we had passed through the other day, but apparently not. This is their normal attire.
Lunch time wasn’t even a treat. Because we’ve been on the move almost everyday and in areas were there were absolutely no services, we have had picnics for lunch frequently. They’ve found nice locations, for the most part, but they have become a tad repetitive, with sandwiches made of cold cuts, lettuce, tomato, cucumber, cheese and avocado. Someone had asked to stop for a “bushy bushy” break and since it was close to lunch time, Innocent suggested we just stop at this same spot for lunch. However, there was unanimous consent that we didn’t want to stop here. It wasn’t even a picnic area, and there was toilet paper all over everywhere, from previous “bushy, bushy” stops. So we carried on to a picnic site and got set up only to discover there were some sort of sand fleas and added to the animal dung all over the site made for a less than desirable lunch. So we ate as quickly as possible and moved on, and on, and on and on. We had started at 7:30 am and didn’t roll into our night stop until almost sundown. We missed a planned bush walk activity because we’d arrived so late.
The evening was pretty magical though. We were hosted at a camp run by some San Bushman and supported by Intrepid Foundation. It is in the middle of a private game reserve far from any civilization. The rooms were pretty basic, but comfortable. We got to experience some of the things the locals get to live with, like the generator not kicking in until 6:30 pm and then going off at 10pm and not on again until the next night. Our head lamps are getting a workout.
The dinner they prepared and presented to us in an outdoor gazebo in the courtyard, was one of the nicest we’ve had. It was very western in our honour- comfort food-beef goulash, rice, sweet potato, cauliflower with cheese sauce and greek salad. After our delightful meal we were invited to camp chairs set up around a huge fire to experience an evening of traditional story telling, dance and song of the San. Several of the San women were sitting in behind the fire, chatting among themselves. They were dressed in traditional San attire as were the 5 men who would be the dancers. The leader started by explaining what the presentation would be. The song and dance were part of a healing ceremony and typically the “shaman”-type healer of the group used the song and dance (and some recreational marijuana) to get into a trance and the laying on of his hands to heal any ailments in the participants. Nanci and I figure Eli, our physiotherapist, should add this to his repertoire. Innocent had arranged for their leader to tell a couple of traditional stories, and for them to do 4 – 5 song and dances for us, but because it would have been rude to leave once the dancers had entered into a trance, they ended the demonstration before they got to that point. The healer was a frail-looking older gentleman, who we were worried would keel over and fall into the fire. It was great to see that the younger people were being schooled in the traditions though. It was all a little surreal, especially when some of the staff came to watch and were sitting looking at their iPhones. We were grateful to be able to learn more about the Bushmen and be invited to watch some of their rituals.
Lois' Adventures 