Zanzibar to Nairobi, Kenya

This will have to be quick - sorry!

Returning to Dar es Salaam was uneventful. The next few days were spent getting us to two of the most incredible places in Africa - Ngorungoru Crater and Serengeti National Park.

We spent three days between the two and WOW - we completed the big five (woo hoo!!) and saw so many animals up close and personal, it was just amazing. At one point we were about 5 m from a sleeping pride of lions - one male, six females, and a male cub. It was insane! Keep in mind - this isn't a zoo. There are no fences or other forms of protection - we were literally in their backyard, at their mercy. It. Was. Awesome.

We saw four leopards, had an elephant walk right up to our open-air Jeep and check us out, plus we saw tons of monkeys/baboons, zebras, buffalo, hippos, birds, and, a mama and two baby cheetah cubs enjoying a freshly killed impala. Crazy.

Our nights in the Serengeti were spent without any fences as well - hyenas and lions walked through our camp and apparently kept some of our fellow travellers wide awake all night. Not us!!

Tomorrow we head out on the third leg of our tour - gorillas!!! Should be amazing - will post updates when we can.

We just heard about the hurricane at dinner - hope everyone is ok!!!

xoxox

A few words about Jack Layton

I'll be honest - I didn't want Jack Layton to be my Prime Minister (even though I have only ever voted NDP - shock! horror! - and have often felt that his party values the things I love most about my country more than all the others. Yes, I know there are examples to the contrary - please don't feel compelled to list them, as that is not the point I'm driving at). It's also true that I used to laugh when Jack would cycle past me on the streets of Ottawa, and that I have never been a fan of his partner. Regardless, Jack Layton was a great leader, and our country has lost a good man. I hope that others will be inspired by his passion and love for Canada, and that we will continue to make things better for all.

The following is an excerpt from Jack's final letter to Canadians:

"Canada is a great country, one of the hopes of the world. We can be a better one – a country of greater equality, justice, and opportunity. We can build a prosperous economy and a society that shares its benefits more fairly. We can look after our seniors. We can offer better futures for our children. We can do our part to save the world’s environment. We can restore our good name in the world. We can do all of these things because we finally have a party system at the national level where there are real choices; where your vote matters; where working for change can actually bring about change.[...]

My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world."

R.I.P. Jack.

P.S.

A very happy belated birthday to Court's dad, Paul, and a very happy early birthday to his mum, Robyn! xoxox

Kande Beach, Malawi to Zanzibar, Tanzania

After leaving Kande Beach we stayed two more nights at another camp along Lake Malawi. It was lovely - we swam a lot, and just enjoyed our time on the beach, or bartering with local wood carvers for treasures we can't find back home. After that we crossed over into Tanzania, where the scenery changed dramatically yet again.

While Malawi was very green, Tanzania is incredibly lush - there are palms and banana trees EVERYWHERE. Also, we spent a few days driving around some incredible mountains - there's nothing like narrow, winding roads without guardrails to wake you up in the morning.

Our first night in Tanzania was spent at a camp in the mountains. We arrived just after sunset, but luckily we did not have to prepare our meal - they had a lovely restaurant on site where they made us dinner. (It was kind of like eating in a giant termite mound - the walls were clay, and the lighting was all via miner's lamp. Very rustic and unique.

The next day we got up at 4:30 a.m. - which was really 3:30 a.m. because we were still on Malawi time - and headed towards Dar es Salaam. Talk about a frantic city - the traffic was ridiculous. We had to take a short ferry to our camp which was on the beach, and we had to take the same ferry back out again the next day so we could catch another much bigger ferry bound for Zanzibar!

Zanzibar is 96% Muslim, and we arrived just past the halfway point of Ramadan. (Which for us just means no drinking or eating in the streets during daylight hours.) Because it is a conservative culture, I have to have my shoulders covered all the time when we're in the city - it's not a big deal, really, but I do feel for the women who are covered from head to toe given the heat (and this isn't even the hot season!). We spent our first day and a half in Stonetown, the capital and birthplace of Queen frontman Freddie Mercury. What an interesting place! It's right on the water, but the inner city is filled with maze-like streets and alleys, all teaming with merchants, children, and things to see. We spent the first afternoon wandering in and out of the shops, admiring Masai paintings and jewellery and bartering for fabric and leather shoes (my leather flipfllops broke on our way over). It was fantastic! We had a lovely lunch on the beach and really enjoyed the sights and sounds.
In the evening we watched the sun set from the balcony of a posh hotel - not where we were staying - and then moved on to the spectacular outdoor fish markets for dinner. Every kind of fresh seafood you can imagine, all grilled right in front of you for a bargain price. We had lobster kabobs, red snapper, veggie samosas, salad, chips, drinks, etc., all for about 40,000 shillings ($24 USD). Not bad!

The next day we did two tours with a fantastic local guide before heading to the beach (where we are currently). The first was a tour about the history of the slave trade in East Africa. The slaves who were sold in Zanzibar were sent to the Middle East, where their experience differed somewhat from West African slaves taken to Europe/North America. For one thing, the men and women were kept completely separate - save for work - to ensure that no babies were born. This was to prevent the possibility of the slaves outnumbering the Arabs and taking over. At first the slaves were taken by boat in more humane conditions than those going to the west, but that soon ended, with as many as 609 people being packed into the hull of a ship which once took around 200. Additionally, before they were taken to auction (in what is now the main fish market building), East African slaves were kept in one of 15 dungeons for two days without food or water to test their fitness. All but 2 of those dungeons were destroyed by the Anglican Church after slavery was abolished, but we did have the opportunity to visit them while we were there. It's hard to put into words what that experience was like, really. The ceilings were so low that we were completely stooped over. There was a raised stone platform-like area where the slaves would have been chained - with irons around their necks - with no room to sit up or lie down. On the far side there were three very small slats cut into the stone to allow for air, but even with just 14 of us down there, it was very difficult to breathe after a few moments. In that particular dungeon there could be as many as 150 people chained at any one time. 150. (I'm actually getting very emotional while writing this.) One hundred and fifty human beings, who had done absolutely nothing wrong, taken from their families, beaten, starved, locked in a dungeon, and then sold to the highest bidder. What kind of humanity is that? How could anyone look at another human being and even conceive of the idea? It knocks the wind out of you if you really stop to think about what that might have been like.

We visited the place where the auctions took place afterwards. Today, as I mentioned, it is a thriving fish market, though there are also other types of meats and plenty of vegetables and spices being sold there. After leaving the wretched smell of the market behind, we embarked on a spice tour outside of the city. During the tour we got to walk around and pick different plants - lemongrass, turmeric, cinnamon, ginger, black pepper, lipstick flowers, etc., and have each one explained to us. Cinnamon is a fascinating plant - its roots smell exactly like Vick's Vaporub!

lychee, oranges, custard apples, jackfruit, and that really smelly fruit that's banned from public transport throughout Asia - it starts with a D but I can't recall the name...Anyway, it kind of tastes like creamed onions. Odd. We then watched one of the spice boys scale a 30 metre (or higher) coconut tree using only a small band around his feet for assistance. It was incredible! He cut down some fresh coconut for us to sample as well.

We wrapped up that portion of our day with a meal at a local family's home. They prepared rice & potatoes, a lovely coconut curry, a fantastic spinach dish, and fried fish, all using locally grown spices and produce. Our dessert was an incredible spread of fresh fruits - passionfruit, mango, pineapple and watermelon. They did a beautiful job. We sat on the floor in their empty living room and stuffed ourselves whilst they were fasting nearby. How terrible is that?!? But, we were told that since tourism has become such an important part of their economy, the people of Zanzibar have been learning more and more about the customs and beliefs of other cultures, so most people now understand why most visitors do not observe the fast. (Still, I felt bad - how torturous!)

After lunch we had a pleasant drive up the coast to our current accommodations, which are right on the beach. Lovely. We have a small cottage to ourselves which is a great luxury. It was a gorgeous morning, but now it's starting to RAIN!! Eek! (Thus why I'm on the net and not in the sun.) Hopefully it clears up so we can get some swimming in this aft!

Hope all is well. xox

Kande Beach, Malawi

Malawai is beautiful. Lush, green, and filled with fresh water, rolling hills, and wonderful people. Our second camp in Malawai was at a place called Kande Beach, right on the shores of gorgeous Lake Malawai (which someone told us is the largest landlocked freshwater lake in the world – someone fact check that, please). We spent our first evening hanging out on the beach, watching some horses bathe and then roll around in the sand while the sun was setting. Gorgeous. The next day we spent the morning swimming – we went in at least 3 times – sunbathing, and snoozing in the sand. It was fantastic.

Mid-afternoon we decided to partake in an optional village tour with three of our friends – Luke, Jess and Caroline. Our tour guide, Robert, is a 23-year-old member of the village who moved there from Zambia when he was 8. He currently lives with his grandfather and gave us some really incredible insights into life there.

The village itself has 13,000 inhabitants. Robert lives in a small brick home which is divided into 5 rooms. He told us that they made all of the bricks themselves – they make them out of local clay and then bake them until they are red; this signifies that they are weather-proofed and ready. Though they make the bricks, they employ a builder to actually construct their homes. Robert told us that timbre and tin are very expensive - $10-$15 USD for each piece of tin roof, which is put up in sections. As such, it takes people a long time to be able to afford to build their homes, which explains why we often saw half-built homes or piles of bricks in some of the villages along the road. If a family cannot afford tin they will use thatch, which can actually keep them safe from the elements for up to 35 years (!). Robert said that the reason they no longer use thatch is because the area where they used to get it from has now become a village.

It used to be that a person’s parent or guardian would pick their children’s partner; now, Robert told us, everyone is free to choose who they will marry. A woman may marry at 18; a man at 21. But, with an increase in education and opportunity in the village, most people are waiting until they are 22 and 23. There is still a dowry system in place – paid to the woman’s family – but Robert said they have moved away from a system of exchanging cattle and mostly just use cash. Again, it’s expensive, so that also helps in delaying marriage, though the downside is that there are still babies being born to young teens.

After touring his home, Robert took us for a walk to the school he attended as a boy. Along the way we were joined by a group of his friends, who each expressed an eagerness to chat with us and improve their English/understanding of the world. Nearly all of the guys we have met in Africa – as the women don’t ever approach us – have ridiculous nicknames like Vegemite, Cheese on Toast, Sugar & Spice, etc. On this trip, we had a few of the aforementioned as well as Stan the Man. As we walked, Stan told me that as a child he would take the path we were on because it was the shortest route to school. “We always tried to get to school as early as possible,” he said. The reason? So he could get a seat and not have to sit on the floor. Imagine that.

The school was built in 1964 and is a collection of single-story brick buildings – it’s actually very similar to the schools in Hawai`i. But get this – there are 1,500 students divided into only 8 classes. The largest class has 220 students, and the smallest 110. Now, we’re not talking about 220 students in grade 5 who are then split into more manageable groups – we’re talking 220 students to one single teacher. Eight teachers for 1,500 students aged 6 – 13.

Though we visited the school on a Sunday – and during school holidays to boot – we were fortunate to meet the elderly headmaster and head teacher/librarian. They took us into the school library and immediately the blue metal cabinets along the far wall caught my attention. All over the cabinets were stickers of the Canadian flag!! At the very top of each cabinet was a sticker that said “Donated by the government of Canada.” Real aid in action! In fact, the map on the front blackboard even had a Canadian flag at the bottom. The headmaster told us that a former teacher from New Zealand had gotten them started with collecting books, and then a Canadian teacher had gotten them more books, and shelves/cabinets to put them in. Yay!

Primary education in Malawai is free, but high school costs $50 USD per term – there are three terms per year for a duration of four years. Most families cannot afford to send their children to high school - $600 over four years is too great a sacrifice. Can you imagine? Places in the highschools are competitive – students have to take country-wide exams and score very well in order to be admitted. The headmaster said that the girls had been outperforming the boys in every subject (!) and that they had 35 girls and 30 boys offered places at the  highschool

If you are interested in helping this school – they also need teachers!! – you can send money, supplies, etc., to:

The Headteacher                                  

Kande F.P. School

P.O. Box 7, Kande

Nkhata-Bay, Malawi, Central Africa.

After the school we had an opportunity to visit the local health clinic, located next door. Get this – the health clinic services 97,000 people and doesn’t have a doctor on staff. We met with an exhausted midwife who is going to university to become a doctor (bless him). He looked like he was ready to fall asleep at his desk. He told us that in the area, malaria kills many more people – particularly children and expectant mothers – than HIV/AIDS. (Which isn’t surprising given that they have a huge breeding ground in Lake Malawi.) As such, their focus is on providing mosquito nets to as many people as possible, at a cost of about $10 USD each.

To give you a sense of the clinic, it was open air and almost completely devoid of medications, instruments, textbooks, etc. (While we were there, Luke – who works on a search & rescue helicopter crew in NSW – told us he had more medical equipment in his backpack than we could see in the whole clinic.) It largely functions to assist with family planning and education, and to treat minor injuries and illnesses. There is no operating theatre, so people in need of surgery have to travel another 70 km to the hospital, which, given the roads, takes ages. Also, you may recall that I had previously blogged about the lack of petrol in Malawi, which further complicates things. There is also only one ambulance in the area. So, if you don’t have a car/the ambulance can’t be found, you’ll need to take a public bus – if they’re running – which will take about 3 hours to reach the hospital. Who are the people most likely to need to do this? Women in active labour who can’t deliver vaginally and must have a c-section. Take a moment to think about that.

The entire experience in the village was humbling. And enraging, really, because it’s so unfair. It doesn’t have to be like this, does it? Not just here, of course – all over the world where the majority of people in any given area are, let’s face it, not white. (Is this my first Kanye moment?) Yes, there are poor white people in the world, but poor like this? (And yes, I know that this is just the first step into the “real” Africa, and that India may prove to be even more shocking, and who knows what we may find in South America when we finally make it there.) The point I’m trying to make is that while years of reading about poverty have somewhat prepared me for how dire certain circumstances are, reading about something and experiencing it are completely different. (How’s that for a blinding flash of the obvious, eh?) *Knowing* cognitively that there are people who would give absolutely anything for the opportunity to go to school feels very different than seeing people in that situation, and different still from hearing their stories in their own words, without a filter. (To say nothing, of course, of the life and death circumstances many of these people are facing in terms of malaria, HIV/AIDS, etc.) Having it be real makes it impossible to accept in a way that feels very powerful.

So, now what?

Great Zimbabwe

The ruins at Great Zimbabwe were really interesting - they date back nearly 1,000 years and used to be home to 25,000 people. Our first stop was to climb the side of a mountain to the king's home/fortress. The view was incredible! As we walked, our phenomenal guide - Philip - told us all about the security measures which were built into the infrastructure, including the entrance walls (now quite a bit smaller than they were back in the day), guard stations (where all belongings were surrendered and questions were asked - it made me think of Monty Python, to be honest), and maze-like passages which would help to quickly alert guards, etc., to the presence of intruders. Up top there was also an amphitheatre, bank, and a "balcony" where the king could watch over his subjects. (Philip also taught us that the name Zimbabwe means "big house of stone".) Interestingly, when Zimbabwe gained independence in 1980, its name was taken from this culturally significant area - the first time a country has ever been named in that fashion.

While in Great Zimbabwe we also met a tribe from the Mama (sp?) Dynasty who still live there today. We approached them by clapping our hands in a particular pattern and repeating a phrase in their native  tongue so as to show respect and request the ability to enter their village. After letting us in they sang, danced, and played their drums for us - it was incredibly energetic and really neat to see.

The next day we arrived in Harare (the capital) and...what a dump. Sorry, Zimbabwe. Like the other cities we visited in Zimbabwe - Vic Falls, Bulawayo, Mashvingo - the infrastructure is there, but the neglect is just staggering. Dirt sidewalks next to potholed streets, chipping paint, storefront signs (as well as shelves and mannequins) from the 1950s...but there are some lovely buildings, too - and some parks. If someone would just put some time into picking up the trash, putting out some rubbish bins, painting, updating...it could be nice. As it is, it's frantic, dirty, and really confusing. We accomplished nothing while we were there, except finding one of the dirtiest bathrooms ever. One exciting thing happened while we were there though - Mugabe's immense motorcade went past us, complete with police on motorbike and in cars, and trailed by an ambulance with its siren wailing. Yesterday morning's paper had a headline stating that Mugabe had instructed (!!!) England to stop rioting. Well done - I'm sure that's all they needed to hear.

As much as I poke fun, however, the issues in Zimbabwe are intense. People are afraid to say anything against the government because there are informants everywhere. We did hear talk along the way of citizens being murdered for holding socialist ideals. (Perhaps that's the reason why my visa fee was so high?) Such a sad state of affairs.

After we left Harare (thank God) we had an EPIC travel day; Zimbabwe to Malawi via Mozambique. Four border crossings - you have to do paperwork everywhere here, coming and going - and lots of palm greasing to get through. We left at 5 a.m. and arrived at our camp around 8:30 p.m. We stopped only twice in Mozambique - on the side of the road to pee, and to get petrol. (BTW - there's no petrol in Malawi right now. You should have seen the massive queue last night as we rolled into town. It's going to be an interesting trek up to Tanzania, let me tell you.) We ate our meals on the truck and tried to find ways to entertain ourselves. Thankfully, the countryside was gorgeous to behold - mountains, fields, and lots and lots of villages. I'm sorry we didn't get to spend any time there, but from what we were told, it's not the kind of place you want to just hang out at present.

So, now we're in Malawi, speeding towards our next camp. (That's right, I'm typing this on the truck.) We just had lunch on the side of the road while the bridge we needed to cross was being rebuilt. Yup. As soon as we started to make our meal, about a dozen sweet, tattered little kids from a nearby village (I assume) rocked up and starting staring at us. Luke - our new Aussie mate who is from Perth (like Court) but now lives in Sydney - had the rather brilliant idea to blow up some balloons for the kids, and they were really excited about it. I have to say, it's a terribly humbling thing to be eating a sandwich on the side of the road while crowds of people watch you. We really do have so much...

How a young woman from Canada travelled to Zimbabwe and realised one of her greatest dreams. Ever.

Mashvingo is nothing special. Dirt roads - like most of Zimbabwe - average storefronts, and lots of people milling about. It was especially ordinary on the day we arrived, as it was a national holiday and most things were closed. After our attempts to locate an Internet cafe were thwarted, we resigned ourselves to a Coke float (that's a Spider to our Aussie readers) at Zimbabwe's Dairy Queen-esque Creamy Inn. While we were sitting with a group of our friends, the American couple - Lauren and Matt - got up and said they were headed to check out the nearby market. We had been told it was pretty crappy, but as we had time to kill and nothing to do, we decided to tag along.

The Lord works in mysterious ways.

The market itself was pretty standard - tin shacks on a dirt road. We wandered about aimlessly, remarking how funny it was that you could purchase solar panels (!!) at the stalls, and yet all of the stereo equipment seemed to have tape decks. Most of what was on offer was of little use of interest to us. We stopped at one point to half-assedly (is that a word?) haggle with a stall owner, but when neither of us would budge on our price points decided to keep looking. Now, at that point we had reached the end of the market. It was hot and dusty, and it was nearing the time when we needed to head back to the truck. But, as luck would have it, Matt had a particular item in mind that he wanted to buy - some old school Converse all-star sneakers - which forced us to wander back through the market rather than just taking off down the parallel side street.

It's amazing what you see when your vantage point changes. We had walked past every single stall on our first pass, but somehow we'd managed to miss a few very key items. When Matt stopped to talk price with a vendor, I stood in the middle of the strip and let my eyes wander over the neighbouring stalls. I was about to keep moving when suddenly a familiar image caught my eye. I started. Was I seeing what I thought I was seeing, or had I suddenly been hit with a mirage from home.

I turned my body a full 180 degrees and stared at the stall which was two metres in front of me. A vertical clothing rack packed tight with items stared back at me. I paused to take it all in, and felt my heart start to beat a little faster. It couldn't be...

Nestled in between the garments on the rack was a modest sliver of bright red fabric. But not just any red. The red of a proud and glorious nation; of a land which can only be described as the "True North, strong and free." From the top of the silver - which I now ascertained to be a piece of a sleeve - I could just make out the body of fierce and noble warrior, buoyed forward by passion, skill and determination. In his - or her - hand was clasped the most awe-inspiring sceptre I have ever known; the hockey stick.

But my excitement didn't end there.

I reached the rack in seconds flat - it's possible that I ran, but I believe I may have actually floated - and as I extended a trembling hand to touch the sweet polyester fabric of a most sacred vestment, I noticed for the first time that this noble warrior - still half hidden by another garment - bore a number. 9. I nearly choked. Surely not. Not here. Not in a dusty, dirty market in the middle of nowhere. (In the middle of Zimbabwe, for God sake.) "Ok," I said to myself. "If I pull this sleeve out and there's another 9 on it, I'm going to faint." I braced myself, licked my lips, and gave the sleeve a gentle pull.

99.

The greatest number the game has ever known. "Holy. Shit." It could still be a mistake, I thought. But I couldn't wait any longer. I grabbed the hanger and pulled my treasure from its trove, flipping it quickly so that the full back was exposed. I gasped audibly. There, stitched in perfect white letters on a background of beautiful maple leaf red was the word:

G-R-E-T-Z-K-Y.

"COURT!" I yelled. "COURTNEY!" He came over immediately, looking perhaps a little frightened, and I all but screamed at him: "DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS?!?! A TEAM CANADA WAYNE GRETZKY JERSEY! THE REAL DEAL - MADE IN CANADA BY BAUER!" I showed him the tag to prove my point. The object of my affection for so long - a red Team Canada jersey - but the one item which I had never allowed myself to purchase due to its exorbitant price. And the fact that it was already outfitted with HIS name...unbelievable.

"How much?" Court asked the woman at the stall - who, I'll admit, I hadn't even realised existed in all my excitement.

"$15."

"I'm sorry - did you say $15?!" I thought I might cry.

And then, my dear, sweet Courtney, did something which nearly killed me. He offered her $11. $11 for a jersey which would cost close to $300 in the place where it was made. Thankfully, she turned it down. (Fuck, I would have given her $100 for it and still walked away thrilled.) We bought it, of course, and threw in a Dion Phaneuf  rivalries in the NHL." Don't worry, Dad - I didn't let him buy it.)

And that, my friends, is how I came to be the proud owner of a Wayne Gretzky Team Canada jersey. A-MAZING. Some of you may wonder how the jersey came to be there in the first place - that's something we have a few theories about. It definitely came as some form of aid. The question then is whether people are given the clothes directly, or if they buy it by the bag/weight. That we don't know. But, rest assured that your clothing donations are making it over here so they can be purchased by those who need them...and flown back to their country of origin. It's a funny world we live in.

Now back to our travels...

The San, etc., continued

I forgot to mention that the entire area looks very much like Australia's Northern Territory...probably because it was formed in much the same way. :) As you find at Karlu Karlu (Devil's Marbles), there are giant boulders balanced precariously upon each other, some which look as though they've been intentionally placed. (They haven't been, though Ian did share an anecdote about an American passenger asking who the architect was. Oy. Vey.)

Ian describes the San as the most civilised group of people on earth, which is probably how they've managed to survive so long. (The word “mine” does not exist in their language.) They are intensely considerate of others and the earth. For example, if they seek shelter in a cave, they do so only for up to two weeks for fear of using up too many resources in the surrounding area and/or preventing others from seeking shelter when needed. If they go out to forage for seeds, berries, etc., they only ever take half of what remains at the very most to ensure that any other human or animal who needs them will be left with something. Their lives are simple (though markedly complex in comparison to our own), as they are very focused on taking only what they need. Amazingly, their bodies have adapted to assist them in their mission not to let anything go to waste. When a San kills an animal, it does so with the promise that his/her family will eat the entire thing. Now, we're not talking about a rabbit here - we're talking about a massive kudu or impala. What happens is that the family will eat, fall asleep, eat again, sleep, and eat until it's gone. One San can ingest around 20 kg in a single day. 20 kg!!! And you know where all of the fat and protein is stored? In their ass. Yup. The ass actually increases to the point where you could rest a tea tray on it after a massive feed. When food is scarce, their bodies take fat and protein from their asses to sustain them, slowly shrinking it back down until it becomes a mass of wrinkled, hanging skin. (Think Hugh Heffner. Yup. I went there.) Their genitals have also adapted so as to keep clean - it's a little difficult (and graphic) to explain, but suffice it to say that the San consider water sacred and only bathe twice in their lives; at birth and death. 

The cave paintings we saw depicted a lot of animals - Ian says they have been incorrectly identified for years by people who believe these paintings relate to their religious beliefs. Rather, Ian says, these paintings were meant to help others who followed by alerting them to food sources in the area so they could prepare to trap/hunt as needed. So thoughtful...

Inside one of the caves we entered there was also a large mass of clay against a far wall. Ian told us it's an ancient grain bin - several hundred years old - which the San used to store food. (Pondu still uses such bins in his village - they simply put a fresh coat of clay on every few years to prevent deterioration.) The thought scientists had initially was that the bins could be used to keep things fresh for a few months - Ian said, however, that tests had proved they could keep food fresh for years. The bins were also used to break food stores up in case of attack from another tribe - if one bin was found and the contents taken, there were still others which could be used for sustenance. 

After the cave art and village tour, Ian took us out and taught us how to track rhino. (We had been taught about identifying tracks, etc., on other game drives, but this was different.) He explained how rhinos create territories which converge at water sources, and that they need to drink every two days or so. While this makes them easy to track and study, it also makes them very easy to track and poach. Throughout Zimbabwe there are signs about poaching - poachers can be shot and killed on sight. I asked Ian what happens if a poacher is caught but not killed - he said they go to jail for 25 years which is tantamount to a death sentence because the HIV infection rate in Zimbabwe prisons is 100%. Take a moment for that statistic.

As previously mentioned, the chief we visited had lost 5 of his 10 children to AIDS related diseases. (I say that because we now know of course that it isn't AIDS that kills, but rather the lack of an immune system which prevents the body from fighting other viruses.) Ian explained that in many African cultures, promiscuity is just a natural part of existence; sex isn't viewed in the same way as it is in Western society. As such, HIV/AIDS have spread at alarming rates, and it's been very difficult to convince people to change behaviours which have been accepted for thousands of years. Interestingly, when HIV was first discovered in Africa, many people believed it was a "white man" disease. Now, before you shake your head and think "How crazy!", remember that while this was happening, the white man was busy telling everyone it was a "gay disease." It's always someone else...

Anyway, back to poaching. Here's the crazy thing; rhino horns are made of the same compound as nails and hair. And yet, a single horn - which can be over 1 m in length - can fetch up to $500,000 USD! You know what most locally recruited poachers get for their efforts if they don't get caught? About $1,000. Sad, isn't it?

While out with Ian we tracked a massive white rhino of about 3 tonne and actually got within 10 m of it. Talk about an amazing creature. We had to stay low to the ground and pretty quiet/motionless, but just to be that close to an animal in their natural environment was sensational. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, though hopefully not because they will end up extinct!!!

We loved Ian's tales of growing up in Zimbabwe and learning to guide. He told us about being hauled out of his sleeping bag as a drunk and naked 18-year-old by an exceptionally curious elephant, being charged at by a group of rhinos he stumbled upon unwittingly, and coming face-to-face with all manner of snakes and bugs. It was fascinating. What an incredible life...

After our adventure with Ian we were off to explore the ruins of Greater Zimbabwe. But, before we could begin that adventure (which was also incredibly interesting), we took a fortuitous trip to the nearby city-town of Mashvingo.

Victoria Falls to Matopos

While in Vic Falls, Court  did a 111 m bungee, bridge swing, and zipline from the Zambian side of a canyon to the Zimbabwean side. Pretty rad - we'll post pics when we can. While Court was preparing for his bungee, he had to wait out a massive group...from Michigan. (Say it with me - boooo!) But, just as they were getting going, this guy in an Ohio State t-shirt rocks up and says "It's time for Ohio to show you how it's done."

Welin - does your alumni association just send people out to the four corners of the earth just in case someone from Michigan shows up? I mean, shit...on the bridge between Zambia and Zimbabwe?!?!

That night we also "upgraded" to an amazing safari tent with a real open-air bathroom attached to the back. It was so cool - about 3 m tall in the centre with a REAL bed and hot shower. Totally worth the extra cash, and still, technically, camping. :)

After leaving Vic Falls we headed to Hwange National Park where we did THREE open-air Jeep game drives in 24 hours. (Correction - Court did three. Ali did the all afternoon and early morning drives, but skipped the uber-cold night drive in favour of sleeping in the nice warm tent.) We saw many of the same animals we had seen elsewhere, but we did get to spend some time watching a cheetah up close - really cool. Our guide for the day - Andy - was pretty incredible. He's lived in Zimbabwe his whole life and is incredibly passionate about animals. He was able to tell us all kinds of new facts about a variety of species (which we may be able to update here as time permits). It was a very informative experience, and so great to be around someone who is so passionate about his work.

From Hwange we travelled to Matopos National Park where we spent two nights. In the early morning we were collected by Andy's good mate Ian, equally as passionate, but moreso about the people of Zimbabwe/Africa and their history. What an incredible day. Ian is an absolute font of information, and every single person was hanging on his every word. He is a 13th generation white Zimbabwean, with roots in England. He grew up exploring the land and learning about the flora and fauna, as well as the animals. He also has an incredible relationship with the San (bushmen) we've mentioned earlier.

Can I just say how much we wish we had done our day with Ian prior to our trip to the living museum? Talk about context that was much needed and missing from that experience!!

Ian took us to see some rock paintings which were created by the San. Interestingly, he told us that the Human Genome Project has determined that their tribe is the one we all originate from. Think about that - all of us, from all over the world, beginning from this group of people. It makes sense when you look at them, really - you can see distinct features of many different races/ethnicities/regions when you look at them. Their beautiful hair is very African; their lovely almond-shaped eyes are Asian; their gorgeous skin very Arab; and their fantastic cheekbones are shared by many indigenous groups.Amazing, eh? Ian also told us that some of their paintings have been discovered at Kakdu National Park (one of my favourite places on earth) in Australia's Northern Territory. He said that when the paintings were found, the indigenous people of the area were like, "Uhh...those aren't ours. They don't look like anything in our history." So, it seems that the San may have made their way to Australia some 100, 000 years ago!! Amazing.

After the rock paintings, we visited a traditional village where we were greeted by their chief, Pondu (spelling may be incorrect - need to check). He was a sprightly character born in 1931 who survived a vicious attack by a leopard in the 1950s (whose pelt he now wears as a traditional costume). When he was attacked, his saving grace came in the form of a European scientist who heard his screams, shot the culprit, then raced him along dirt roads in the back of his truck until medical aid could be found. He subsequently lost the sight in his right eye and showed us the huge scars where the teeth and paws got him. Scary stuff. Pondu had 10 children, but sadly, 5 of them have died of AIDS related illnesses. As a result, he is now raising 13 of his grandchildren. We got to meet some of them - they preformed some traditional songs and dances for us which were really fun and spirited. It was an awesome experience.

On the subject of AIDS, the one positive thing we heard about "Uncle Bob" while were in Zimbabwe - though note that we didn't hear anything negative, as people are afraid they will "disappear" if they speak out about the regime - was that back in the early 1980s when the rest of the world was dumbstruck by the AIDS crisis, he was actually advocating for education and assistance to prevent the spread. Back in the early 1980s! Too bad he hasn't used any of his immense personal wealth - we're told he's the fourth wealthiest person in the world - to help his fledgling country. Zimbabwe has close to 96% unemployment, and corruption - including police using fake speed cameras to collect cash from motorists - is rampant.

Zimbabwe was different from other places we've been because we didn't see many traditional villages. We saw a lot of houses which look like the ones you'd see in the Western world, though smaller. The cities we visited were very run down, but with some money and attention, they could be very functional. Considering how rich Zimbabwe is in terms of natural resources - gold, platinum, copper, diamonds and emeralds - it's shocking to see how many people are out of work and trying to make ends meet.

To tie the immense wealth of resource back to the San people, Ian told us that years ago a young American university student came and studied them for several months when she had finished university. Upon completion of her studies she recommended that they be removed from traditional lands and basically forced to conform to capitalist ideals. (Hmmmm....why does that concept sound familiar?) Amazingly - though not so much when you find out what was on the land they had been inhabiting - the government went along with it and thousands of them died. Thousands. But, wouldn't you know it, the land they had to give us was just crawling with the aforementioned natural resources. Long story short - it appears the young American was a puppet in a game much larger than she understood, though really, she should have known better. Anyone with a BASIC understanding of what has happened to indigenous societies around the world would have thought "No way in hell should we attempt to interfere with them - they've survived for 100, 000 years and are incredibly healthy and happy." It makes me furious.

OK, much more to say about the San, but have to go get on the truck. Hope to post more about this soon! xoxo

P.S. Please excuse any spelling/grammatical errors - no time to proof and typing as though my life depends on it.

FINALLY!

Beautiful Cape Town from atop Table Mountain (South Africa)

Fish River Canyon, the second largest canyon in the world. Apparently there's one in America that's bigger??? (Namibia)

This is only the tip of the iceberg. You can't even begin to imagine how noisy and smelly this was...(Namibia)

A San woman and her baby. (Namibia)

Sunset from a mocoro at the Okavango Delta (Botswana)

A different sunset, also from a mocoro at the Okavango Delta (Botswana)

Cheeky giraffe at Chobe National Park (Botswana)

Chobe National Park (Botswana)

The original buddy system at Chobe National Park (Botswana)

Gorgeous Victoria Falls (Zimbabwe)

Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe

Why, hello there speedy Internet...

Usually we don't post updates back-to-back, however, we have a three-night stop in Victoria Falls right now and there is a FANTASTIC Internet cafe right across the road from our camp site, so...We're also in the process of trying to *finally* upload some photos.

First thing's first - I think I have discovered how it is that Zimbabwe is able to use US currency as their own; it's because they are only using the first bills EVER printed in America. No joke. I've never seen US currency this colour before - the one dollar bills would never pass as "greenbacks" in the States. Interesting...Something else that's interesting is that Zimbabwe has trillion dollar bills. One of the English med students we've been travelling with came back to camp yesterday, held up a note and declared himself a bonafide trillionaire at the age of 21. Not too shabby. Where can you purchase these bills you ask, why, everywhere! You don't even have to go looking for them - the "brokers" stand right on the other side of the security gate at our campsite just waiting to welcome us to the trillionaires club. "For you, special price..."

Apparently, Victoria Falls is the gateway to constant harassment from street vendors. Awesome. Though I did get a pretty cool two-tone "copper" bracelet for $5 while on the Zimbabwe/Zambia bridge. It's turning my arm green as we speak!

I was a little worried when we were crossing the border that I might inadvertently cause some form of international incident due to the fact that Canadians are charged the highest visa rate of ANY nation to enter Zimbabwe - $75 bones (US) compared to $50 for the U.K./Ireland and $30 for everyone else. Booooo! I was also told that Zimbabwe doesn't like Canadians - whaaaaaaaaat?? - so I wasn't sure what to expect. (To give you some context about the differences between the border in Botswana and the border in Zimbabwe, in Botswana they have a top-ten list of ways to be a better human being at their border; Zimbabwe has a massive portrait of President Mugabe. Different strokes...) I needn't have worried though - the border officials were laughing and joking amongst themselves, and were fairly pleasant. We'll see how things go for the next week or so...

Anyway, we're now in Victoria Falls and WOW! We had our first glimpse of the falls last night when we decided to take a little walk over to Zambia. From what we could see, it is truly stunning. We're planning to spend 3-4 hours in the park later today or tomorrow (Court is currently working away on some journal articles), and our travelmates have told us it is truly spectacular. Can't wait!!

Mum and Dad - I may be sending a parcel home later today. *sheepish grin*

Grootfontein, Namibia to Kasane, Botswana

But before we get to the details...HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY, STEPH WELIN!! :)

The end of our time in Namibia was fairly ordinary – really it was just about getting us to Botswana in the end. We have now entered Botswana twice – once to access to Okavango Delta – the largest delta in the world – and now to stay at Chobe National Park. Can I just say – I wish that every border crossing in the world was like the ones in Botswana. Nicer, more lovely people you would be hard pressed to find (which may have something to do with the fact that years ago their president put on a disguise and did some “secret shopper” type trips to various government and service operations throughout the country which evidently led to major overhauls in customer service throughout). J

The Delta was unbelievable. As we noticed when crossing from South Africa to Namibia, the scenery changed quite a bit in a short period of time. Namibia is dry, dry, DRY, but Botswana has lush waterways (which makes sense, given the Delta) and much more greenery. To reach the start of our journey on the Delta, we had to drive quite a distance over really bumpy roads, then hop aboard a very brief ferry and drive a few hours more. (The ferry is more like a small barge which takes less than 10 minutes to cross the water, leading all of us to question why they don’t just build a bridge. They don’t make any money on the ferry, so…) As soon as we crossed on the ferry we saw tons of cattle wading in the waters – mostly cows, but also some very handsome gray donkeys. This was a sign of things to come.

When we reached the mouth of the Delta where we were to begin our journey – near Seronga, at the base of the Panhandle – we unloaded our truck (which we left behind for two days with an armed guard – no joke, he had a shotgun) and jumped into traditional mokoros (which are dug-out canoes). We went in pairs and our boats were commandeered by expert local polers. Our poler – Rankin – told us that his tribe (which are called Baya, though that isn’t the correct spelling) know the most about the Delta and have lived there forever. He also told us that there are 30-35 different languages spoken in Botswana, and that he can speak four. I think he was somewhat amused that we only speak English. J

It took us about two hours to reach our bush camp, and it was an absolutely beautiful trip. The water in the Delta is only a metre or so deep in most places, and is bordered by large trees. Additionally, there is lots of vegetation in the water itself, including tall grasses and lily pads (some of which were flowering in shades of pink, purple, and white). It was a clear, chilly afternoon and it was very, very peaceful. The polers stand the entire time – like gondoliers in Venice – and use a tree branch of about 3-4 metres in length to push off from the bottom. As we went along we saw many different birds, as well as more cows and donkeys sitting in the water munching on grass.

As we got nearer to our camp we began to hear some really strange noises from behind the reeds. (If you’ve ever watched that stupid Tim Allen show Home Improvement, they sounded like the noises he often made.) We couldn’t see them, but Rankin told us they were hippos! (More on those later.)

We set up camp, then got back in the mocoros to watch the sunset, which was bright red and really gorgeous.

The next morning we got up early and did a nature walk with a man named Chapman. He was incredibly knowledgeable about the area and taught us about tracks, plants, etc. When we returned from the walk – during which time we saw baboons, a dazzle of zebras, lots of birds, etc. – we broke camp and loaded up the mocoros to head to our second camp, which was actually a real camp ground with outdoor bamboo showers (!!) and – gasp! – tents with actual beds in them! Along the way, we came across a family of hippos!! We counted about 6 or 7, each popping their heads up at different times. They were MASSIVE! Hippos travel in packs of 5 – 15 and can hold their breath for 7-8 minutes. When it’s windy they like to stay underwater because their skin is very sensitive. We were so happy to see them, we didn’t care that they weren’t completely out of the water! Some people think that hippos are very aggressive, but it’s not true. They’re actually vegetarians (yay!) who only attack when animals/people get too close to them. (We were probably about 10 metres away or so when we saw them.)

The night before we arrived at the second camp, two Black Mambas had been killed where the morocos dock, but thankfully the third one – which they had been unable to catch and kill – was nowhere to be found during our time there. In the afternoon we did another nature walk – during which time we learned all about termite mounds – and then did another sunset journey in the mocoros. So beautiful. Next morning we headed back to Namibia for a single night – such a pain to have to sign in and out of both countries again – before returning to Botswana via a different border, leading us directly into Chobe National Park.

Unlike Etosha National Park in Namibia, Chobe is totally open. That being said, you never know what animals will be lurking about. Our hope was to round out sightings of the “Big Five” – elephants (check), rhinos (check), lions (check), buffalo, and leopards. On our first morning (which came after our warmest, most comfortable camping night thus far), we loaded into open, 10-passenger Jeeps at 5:45 a.m. for a sunrise safari. Over three or so hours we got incredibly close to big pods of elephants, giraffe, buffalo (check!), and baboons (which are really, really cool to watch). We saw hippos from a distance as well, but we’re told we should be seeing lots more this afternoon when we do a river safari. Woot woot!

So, we just need to find us some leopards and we’ll have completed the Big Five. We also really want to see some honey badgers, which we’re told are around. Awesome.

Tomorrow we leave Botswana and head for Zimbabwe, home of the glorious Victoria Falls. Sadly, it’s also where we’ll say goodbye to some of our favourite travel companions. (Hopefully they few new people we’re picking up there will be great!) Zimbabwe should be interesting because they use the US dollar as their currency. How strange is it that a country on a completely different continent has just taken over their currency? How is that legal? Do they have to pay the US Government any fees for that, since they’re obviously not paying to print the money in their own country? Strange.

Hope all is well!