Stellenbosch

​Yesterday’s program was the optional tour to the Stellenbosch wine region. 

On the way, we passed acres of townships — basic houses built primarily for black citizens after the apartheid regime collapsed and Mandela became president. Previously, blacks could not legally own property and rents were exploitative. In these areas, the homes and the lots on which they are built are owned by the residents. 

It sounds like a good plan, but the supply of such housing is far less than the demand. Thus, squatter camps have appeared around the townships, as well. These strain public services, lack sanitation, and suffer fires from illegal electrical hookups. 

Our tour leader had the bus stop in front of one of the township homes and told us that he had been born in that house. Furthermore, his mother still lives there. We could tell that he was wrestling with the decision, but he finally got out and rattled the lock on the gate to the yard.

It was still early, and Mom was still in her bathrobe, but she came to the door and welcomed our whole group into her modest home. We took no photos, but got an insight into how people live in these places. 

Stellenbosch is very much a tourist town. Many old Cape-Dutch buildings are well preserved. We visited the large Dutch Reformed Church, which has no altar, but an enormous pulpit. 

At the first winery we got the standard tour, then lunch. The “tasting” was full glasses of about 6 different wines, so we were feeling pretty happy when we left.

At the second winery there was no tour, but still multiple full glasses. The last red wine in the series was very good, but also the most expensive at over $100 a bottle. Nevertheless a couple of our fellow travelers felt compelled to buy a bottle and share it with the group — and then another. It became a party. When we got back to the hotel, we fell immediately to sleep. 

This morning, the weather was finally clear enough for the cable car on Table Mountain to operate. Our group was among the first couple of cars to go up. 

The views on the way up and on the way down were pretty good, but at the top we were in cloud with a cold, damp wind. I’m sure it would have been very pleasant in better weather. 

Because our homeward flight is not until this evening, we returned to the Waterfront area for lunch and afternoon diversion. We enjoyed the “burger & beer” special on a sunny outdoor deck overlooking the harbor. Then we found where the harbor seals hang out, safely away from the tourists. 

Good Hope

​Today’s excursion took us out of Cape Town proper and into the “greater cape,” as it were. 

The bus took us south along the west coastline of the Cape. It is rugged and rocky and beautiful. 

The Atlantic Ocean pounds the shore and the wind is relentless. Waves of rain squalls bring intermittent showers that can be seen approaching across the water. 

At Cape Point there is a funicular up the hill to the old lighthouse, but wasn’t working. Instead, a small shuttle bus took tourists up an incredibly narrow road to where it could just barely turn around. 

From there, we climbed 60 or 70 stone steps to the top.

The lighthouse was built in 1860 and operated for 59 years. But it was largely useless because it is shrouded in clouds more than half the days of the year — a point brought home in 1911 when a passenger steamer hit a reef just off shore. 

Down at shore level we reached the actual Cape Point. In school we learned that the Cape of Good Hope is the southern tip of Africa, but they lied. That point is Cape Agulhas, roughly 100 miles to the southeast. So the signs here are careful to say, “the most southwestern point of the African continent.” Truth in advertising?

Still, the Cape of Good Hope was historically the rough spot for ships to get around. So much so that the first explorers here named it “Cape of Storms” and the king of Portugal renamed it for better marketing. There are more than 700 shipwrecks recorded here over the centuries since Bartolomeu Dias arrived here in 1488. 

We continued up the east coast of the Cape and had a very filling lunch in the little tourist burg of Simon’s Town. Then we doubled back a few miles to Boulders Beach where a flock of endangered African Penguins are protected by the South African National Parks Service. 

The protection consists of wooden walkways that allow hundreds of ticketed tourists to walk down to the beach and get close to the birds without actually stepping on their sand. 

After waiting in a long ticket line, the rain and wind began just about the time we finally got to the penguins. 

Though they were very cute, we weren’t inclined to get soaked watching them. So we took a couple pictures and headed for someplace dry. 

Back in Cape Town, we visited an old church that has been transformed into “The District Six Museum.” Our tour leader struggled to explain the significance in a coherent manner. And the museum itself had several themes going, all revolving around the struggle against apartheid. 

But the gist is that some 60,000 black and “colored” people were displaced from their homes in this neighborhood in the 1950s, 60s, and 70s, often with little more than a suitcase. Their homes were destroyed and they were forbidden to even be in the area without a work pass. Only “whites” were allowed to stay. 

While District Six was far from the only place where this occurred — it was repeated across South Africa — it was the catalyst for the anti-apartheid movement. 

Cape Town

​Another travel day yesterday. We began with a presentation by a local historian on the life and travels of David Livingstone. 

Then we had time to finish last minute packing before getting on our bus to the airport where we had to bid farewell to our tour leader, “Star.” The flight to Cape Town for the post trip was smooth. 

The tour leader for our post trip, Thabiso, met us at the airport but did not make a very good first impression there or in the orientation briefing at the hotel. We’re trying to reserve judgement, because our OAT trip leaders have almost always been excellent. 

This morning we drove to the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens, a huge green space featuring about 9000 species of plants and birds. A number of these are unique to the Cape area. It was a windy, misty walk. But we were fortunate in that the torrential downpour came just as we were finishing in the gift shop. 

Our driver took us on a tour of downtown Cape Town with our tour leader providing commentary and pointing out buildings of interest. 

A stop on the way was at Truth Coffee, which is often ranked among the top coffee shops in the world (the best in the world, according to our tour leader, but that’s arguable).

The shop has a “steam punk” theme that extends to the attire of the employees. It’s a neat place, but overpriced. Nevertheless, most lined up for coffee and pastries. And it became clear that guides and drivers get free coffee in return for bringing groups in. 

Most of the group took the option of being dropped off at the Waterfront. We stayed dry by walking among the trendy shops in the indoor market (a converted warehouse). When the rain stopped, we ventured out toward the Clock Tower with hundreds of other tourists.

As the rain held off, set out walking to the Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu museums that had been suggested by our tour leader. He neglected to mention that these are both closed on Sundays. The rain did not hold off entirely, so we had to seek shelter in shops a couple times. It became a 3 mile walk back to the hotel. But we saw lots of Cape Town, including some neighborhoods we wouldn’t want to visit after dark. 

After some R&R at the hotel, we took the hotel shuttle back to the Waterfront area to find a dinner spot. We had an excellent meal of Maylasian curry and enjoyed a lot of people watching as we ate in the huge food court. 

Victoria Falls

​Yesterday was a long travel day. First, three hours on a chilly morning drive in an open game vehicle on unimproved roads through the bush to the airstrip. 

On the way, the drivers had to stop and clear a tree that had been pushed down by an elephant, and was blocking the road. 

And when we arrived at the airstrip our driver had to pull onto the runway to chase a herd of zebra off so that the plane could land. Then another hour flight in a Cessna Caravan. Interestingly, today both pilots were young women— and ours made one of the smoothest, most perfect landings I’ve seen in a while. Great that there are such opportunities for women in Africa! Finally, an hour bus ride followed by a lengthy border crossing (we’re back in Zimbabwe again) and another bus ride to our hotel.

Last evening we had our typical OAT “home-hosted meal.” A taxi delivered us to a modest house in the old township area. In colonial times, black residents were forced to live here, regardless of their economic status. So some homes here are quite nice, and others are shacks. 

We were met at the door by a very large woman who introduced herself. But when we had trouble pronouncing her name, she told us that her name meant “happy” and that we could just call her that.

The house is home to 3 generations: Happy, her mother, “Gogo” (meaning grandma), and children aged 20, 11, and 6.

We got the grand tour, including the kitchen. The preparation area, sink, and refrigerator were inside, the stove and oven just steps outside under a roofed patio to keep the heat out of the house.

In the kitchen they had set up a display of typical foods, including the tiny dried fish that are considered a luxury item, and the mopane worms that are a significant source of protein in this part of the world. Yes, we each ate one. Dried and roasted to a crisp, they taste like bacon, but with a somewhat uncomfortable crunch. Dinner was good.

This morning we visited Victoria Falls. It’s impossible to get a photo of the whole thing, because it’s a mile wide. 

After 3 very dry years, the rainy season here has been extreme this year. The volume of water going over the falls is at record levels, and the spray can go as high as 500 feet! (The African name for the falls before Livingstone — with typical colonial hubris — renamed them after his queen, translates as “the smoke that thunders.”)

The cloud of spray creates its own microclimate, so the surrounding area is a dense rainforest in the midst of a desert. Even though we were issued raincoats, we were well soaked by the nearly constant heavy rainfall. At the exit, I literally had to wring out my socks before we could walk on! It took all afternoon for my shoes to dry out in the sun. 

Most of the group returned to the hotel by bus, but we wanted to walk over the famous 1885 iron bridge over the Zambezi River gorge, down stream from the Falls. 

It was a short walk to the border post where we got a “bridge pass” without having to have our passports stamped again. Then we walked about a mile to the bridge through the “no man’s land” between nations. 

Neither Zimbabwe nor Zambia feel any need to maintain the road in this liminal space, so we got splattered with muddy water by vehicles passing us on the road. Baboons were playing on the parked semi trucks that were waiting to have their loads inspected by customs, and monkeys foraged in trash cans.

From the bridge, our view of the falls was largely obscured by the heavy mist, but the view of the gorge was quite nice. 

We walked back to the border station and presented our pass, then took a footpath that our tour leader had pointed out to us. It’s primarily used by locals as a shortcut and to avoid walking along the busy road that has only intermittent sidewalks. 

We spent the afternoon reading and relaxing by the hotel pool. Late afternoon we boarded the bus once again and headed up river for a sundown cruise.

At the ward we were greeted by a marimba band. An elephant and several baboons wandered by as we listened to them. We hardly notice anymore. The boat was an overgrown pontoon, and they served us a complimentary tropical cocktail and snack as we cruised. The snack included a cracker topped with crocodile meat. Tastes like chicken, but tough. 

Back at the hotel we had our farewell dinner on the lawn with a traditional group singing and dancing for us. 

The evening concluded with a show at a nearby theater, for which we paid extra. It was sort of musical theatre with a plot based on a traditional story. The dancing was excellent — the dancers obviously classically trained. They also sang very well. But the acting was a bit sketchy at times. A good show, but probably overpriced. 

Mabebe Camp

​Things are swampy in the Okavango Delta region. Many of the trails that the game drivers normally use are flooded.

We’ve seen lots of interesting birds — several different species of eagles, geese, storks, kites, and others.

One of the most beautiful is a turquoise-breasted roller.

Otherwise, we’ve seen few new animals. One can only take so many photos of giraffes, zebra, and elephants. The same with warthogs, wildebeests, and Cape buffalo. And of course, the impalas are everywhere.

Two exceptions: Yesterday we saw a hyena coming from a kill, carrying the leg of a buffalo in its mouth! We were hoping to get wherever he came from in case there were still lions around the kill, but we couldn’t find it.

The second exception was a pack of 19 African Painted Dogs. These are NOT vizslas or any other pets! They are fierce hunters.

The pack was oblivious to our vehicles, even when the word of their location got out on the radio and 4 or 5 other vehicles arrived on the scene.

We later ran into them in the bush as they were in a hunt.

And still later, on our way back to camp, we came upon them after dark. Quite the show!

The Longest Day

​This was a travel day, beginning with an hour-long bus ride to Kasane, the nearest city.

Kasane was a study in contrasts. A beautiful modern shopping center with large supermarket was across the street from a row of shacks where poor folks were selling handcrafts and produce.

The airport was not large, but also beautiful and brand new. We flew again in 12-passenger Cessna Caravans, but these were more like scheduled flights. We had people other than members of our group on board, and we stopped at another gravel airstrip in the bush to let them off and pick up another passenger.

We are in the Okavango Delta region which is very swampy. The airstrip we were supposed to use was flooded, so we had to land at another and be driven overland.

We had a stop for lunch beside one stream of the river and were taken on a “dugout canoe” (though it was fiberglass) through the reeds to look at some hippos.

But after that it was just a very long, hot slog over unimproved roads. We arrived at our new camp exhausted, but had a nice meal before showers and bed.

Monkey Attack

​This was another early morning wake up call, followed by breakfast and loading up for another game drive in the national park. This would be a long one — we didn’t return to camp for brunch, but stayed out for nearly 8 hours.

The drive covered a great deal of distance, going much farther into the park than we have been previously. The pace was also faster. Mary and I drew the back seat in the truck, and got bounced around a bit with the higher speeds on the unimproved roads. They call it, “The African massage,” but it doesn’t do much for one’s back.

The goal was to find one or more big cats — cheeta, leopard, or lion. So ignoring all but the most interesting of animals, we charged on. Our driver/game guide stopped nearly every oncoming driver to exchange information about what was to be seen ahead.

Thanks to one such exchange, we raced to a spot where at least 5 other trucks were already clustered. Here we got a glimpse of a leopard, just before she pounced on the guinnie hen she was stalking. She missed, and that was the end of the show.

This was a long game drive, so we didn’t return to camp for lunch. Instead, we parked at one of the national park’s very few and somewhat primitive picnic areas. The meal was challenging because half of us had to chase away hungry monkeys while the other half ate. 

The monkeys know this is a spot where people have food, and they are very aggressive. One jumped onto the serving table and ran off with half a loaf of good, homemade bread. Another snatched a muffin right out of someone’s hand.

The monkeys were rewarded at the end of the meal when one member of our group began feeding them. They’ll be hanging around for the next group of travelers after that!

We continued into the afternoon seeing lots of elephants, giraffes and warthogs. But nothing new.

Back at camp we watched elephants parade right through the camp property. Animals have boundary issues.

Dinner was a traditional African menu, which was actually quite good (although we still think that polenta, which is a staple of the diet here, tastes like paste).

The meal was followed by a cultural program by the camp staff. Their performance was a big step above those at the previous camps, with lots of harmony in the singing and dancing to very complex rhythms.

Namibia (sort of)

​“ Star,” our tour leader, had us up early at 5:30 a.m. Fortunately, we’re pretty much over jet lag. After breakfast we set out on a morning game ride, this time entering the national park. We had an escort of baboons leading us out of the camp.

At the park entry gate we were greeted by a hord of mongosses (mongeese?) who had discovered a littered plastic bag in the road, presumably with something edible inside. There must have been 30 of them swarming over it. But when our truck approached they scattered into the grass near the roadway.

The rest of the morning drive was a bit of a disappointment after our expectations had been raised by the previous evening. We saw plenty of animals, but repeats of the same we had seen before.

Still, the weather was gorgeous and we got some excellent photos of various species of mammals and many, many birds.

In the afternoon Star arranged a walk for the half dozen or so of us who were feeling a lack of exercise from sitting in vehicles so much. Rules insist that we be accompanied by one of the certified game guides, although the chances of encountering a dangerous animal in the heat of the afternoon are almost nil. “D,” our game guide, kept a slower pace than we would have liked, but we walked along the paved highway toward the river.

At the Botswana border post, which is perhaps a kilometer up the hill from the actual border, “D” managed to persuade the border guards to continue walking down the hill, despite the fact that we didn’t have our passports with us, nor had we obtained the required visas to enter Namibia.

We walked across the bridge, so we can say that we’be been to Namibia. But since the Namibian border post is similarly up the hill from the river on their side, we didn’t go near it before turning back. No official entry, no passport stamp.

The evening game drive was similar to that of the morning, with lots and lots of animals but few new sights. Dinner was very good, but we are all in withdrawal due to the breakdown of the internet.

Although we slept quite well, we could hear an elephant grazing on the grass and small branches just outside our cabin. And since we’be learned that elephants graze for roughly 18 hours of every day, he or she kept it up most of the night and continued in the early morning.

Boabob #2

​Our Thursday ended with a demonstration of making African peanut butter — a long and labor-intensive process. 

The women received the gift of a “chitenga” which is a multi-purpose cloth used as a skirt, a head covering, and/or a baby carrier.

In the evening we had a “cultural exchange” which consisted of the staff singing a few African songs, and all of our group singing some American songs as arranged by music teacher Mary

Yesterday was a travel day We left the camp in Zambia, flying in the same Cessna Caravan aircraft in which we came. No security checks!

A mini bus picked us up at the airport and drove us to a market where the poorest of the poor do their shopping. It was one of the worst markets we’ve encountered in a 3rd world country — even worse than India.

The piles of garbage next to the raw fish for sale were equally covered with flies. However, the people were exceptionally friendly, and aside from one man standing outside our bus as we departed, no one tried giving us a hard sell or hassled us in any way.

At the Botswana border we had to go through some gymnastics of stepping in disinfectant to be sure we weren’t carrying any diseases on our shoes, and getting our temperature taken to be sure we didn’t have fevers. Otherwise, the process was fairly painless. The border facility was new and spotlessly clean, and our new mini-bus (we had to change to a Botswanan one) was also new. Unlike Zimbabwe and Zambia, the highways here really are highways, and the bus traveled at highway speed withou having to slow to go around potholes or missing pavement. It was like we suddenly landed on a different continent.

Baobob Camp #2, our home for the next few days, is much like the others in which we’be stayed, except that we are in thatched-roofed cabins rather than in tents. Everything is built on the side of a hill, and everywhere has stunning views of the Chobe River that separates Botswana from Namibia. Even though the river is swollen with the summer rains, we clearly see Namibia on the other side.

We also clearly see elephants and impala coming down the hill to the river to drink. Even the toilet next to the main lodge features a “loo with a view.” There is no window and no screen, so when seated on the throne one has a spectacular view!

After “high tea” (an obvious carryover from British colonial times) we went out for an evening game drive. Unlike the last two lodges, this camp is not actually inside the national park. Botswana does not permit this. Instead, we are just outside the park, and our drive was, as well.

Nevertheless, on our trek over unimproved roads along the river we saw more different species of animals in a couple of hours than we’be seen in the past week. In addition to elephants and impala, we encountered giraffes, zebra, spring bock, buffalo, and many birds.

At the river’s edge (just far enough away from the water to be safe from hippos and crocodiles) we enjoyed our “sundowner” drinks and watched the sun set over Namibia, across the water. The sunset was nice, but after it was below the horizon we were treated to rare “blue rays” which are the precursor to a brief “green flash” in the twilight sky. We were not familiar with these phenomena or what causes them, but they were certainly pretty!

At dinner, we were surprised to discover that the food here is a cut above what we’ve been having, even though this camp is owned and operated by the exact same contractor. Mosquito netting surrounds our bed here, as it did at the last camp. But with a flooded river just down the hill, the mosquitoes are abundant. And just like at home, they find me no matter what.

Leopard!

​Last evening’s game drive was pretty lame. We saw a few of the same animals we had seen before, and in pretty much the same locations.

One comical thing is the herd of impalas, that greeted us on arrival and has been hanging out in the field adjacent to the air strip, had moved over to graze virtually under the wings of the parked aircraft. It looked like a highly congested security line at the airport!

The group enjoyed a “sundowner” drink served from the tailgate, But the sun had pretty much set already by the time we stopped in a clearing in the bush, and the view of the horizon was obscured by trees.

So on the way back we were chatting away, not paying much attention to what was going on outside the truck, when our tour leader “shushed” us and whispered, “there’s a leopard in the road!”

Sure enough, a young male leopard was trotting along the road, moving in the same direction as our vehicles. He appeared to be on a mission — like he had somewhere to go.

Totally unphased by the truck headlights and the driver’s searchlight, the leopard kept trotting along. Occasionally he would glance over his shoulder at us, but he continued on for perhaps as much as 500 meters.

Eventually he turned and walked into the bush, but not like he was running away from us. Just like, “OK, this is my turn.”

Only about 15 to 20% of tourists actually get to see a leopard on one of these trips, so we felt very fortunate.

In the evening, one of these African staff of this camp offered a “dark sky” experience and most of the group went out to get a lesson on the southern sky and some of the constellations we can’t see in the northern hemisphere. He’s just a hobbyist, but he was quite knowledgeable.

This morning’s game drive took a different route than the last two. We saw buffalo, as well as our first elephant in this location (but he looked just like the elephants in Zimbabwe, surprisingly enough). There were some rare birds, and there was some zebra scat, but no zebra was seen.

Without a doubt, the leopard sighting was the most exciting thing of the last 24 hours.

Lufupa Camp

​Yesterday was a travel day. We drove (not terribly quickly due to the condition of the roads) for nearly 4 hours from Hwange National Park to the bustling metropolis of Victoria Falls.

Along the way, we made a stop at a primary school. School is out for the Easter holiday, so this was not one of the schools that OAT supports and typically visits. But somehow our tour leader, Star, found a school where the 7th grade teacher was holding special sessions to help his students prepare for their national exams. So we were able to visit one classroom — all the others were vacant.

Instruction is in English, but most of the students were shy and reluctant to speak to us. But they were eager to see photos of our families on our phones and to hear about our pre-retirement professions. Star indicated that for many of these students in a rural community, it may have been the first time in their lives that they had had interaction with a white person, and certainly the first interaction with Americans.

Many of our fellow travelers had brought school supplies, so at the end we got to pass out pencils to everyone and deliver some other gifts for the whole school. The students appeared to be thrilled.

Our next task was crossing the border from Zimbabwe into Zambia. We had to unload everything from our bus, stand in line through passport control, drag our bags through a gate, and then reload everything onto a nearly identical bus with a different driver on the other side.

Our new bus drove us only about 10 miles from Victoria Falls to Livingstone, Zambia (named for “Dr. Livingstone, I presume” David Livingstone). Again, because of road conditions, the trip took more than half an hour. We, and our luggage, were dropped at the Livingston Airport. Although the airport is very small (it makes the Waterloo, Iowa airport look big!), we had to pass through security, 

Our flight was on a pair of Cessna Caravans. These are single-engine turboprop planes that carry about 10 passengers. Each plane had a single pilot, and despite the captain’s stripes on their shoulders, each looked to be early 20s, right out of college.

I got to sit directly behind the pilot and watch all the action. I could read all the instruments and look out through the front windshield, as well as through my side window. Each seat is both an aisle seat AND a window seat. The flight was about a hour and a half long at roughly 8,000 feet above ground. I thought it was a great ride! Most of the rest of our group was less excited about it.

We landed at Lufupa Camp, a grass strip near the Kafue River, where trucks nearly identical to those we had at our last camp picked us up and took us on a 15 minute drive to our home for the next few days. The roads were just as bad here as in the previous camp, except that they have had more rain here and there were many more places we drove through muddy water.

After getting settled, we set out in the same trucks for our first evening game drive. It was somewhat disappointing because we saw few animals other than the same herd of antelope that had greeted us on arrival, in a field next to the runway.

Our tents are very similar to those at the previous camp, except that now we have mosquito netting over the beds. Our tent is only feet from the river bank, and the bugs are abundant. We’re very glad that we are taking anti-malaria pills!

After breakfast this morning our game drive was not in the trucks, but on the river in pontoon boats — a much smoother ride. We saw many birds, including an African Fishing Eagle, only one crocodile, and along the river bank, a few more antelope.

But the highlight was a group of about a half-dozen hippos, submerged in the river with only their heads occasionally above the water. Our drivers landed our pontoons on the river bank and we had coffee and tea. We watched the hippos, and the hippos intently watched us.

Village Life

​Last evening’s game drive featured a lot of elephants. Bull elephants are loners, grazing by themselves. But with an estimated 50,000 elephants in this national park, we had no shortage of sightings. As long as we stay in the jeeps, they tend to ignore us.

We stopped near a river gorge to get a good look at the sunset. Our drivers came prepared with wine and snacks for us to enjoy off the tailgate as we watched.

As we returned to camp in pitch dark, we heard an elephant trumpet, which they generally don’t do. Later we learned that the other jeep from our group, behind us, had startled a bull on the road with its headlights, and was charging their jeep. A bit of excitement for them, and an explanation for the sound we had heard.

This morning we left camp early once again to exit the park for the day. We were almost getting bored with bull elephants, so I hadn’t gotten my camera ready. But as it happened, we came upon a herd of elephants — females and their young.

A baby elephant, perhaps a year old, was nursing from its mother. But by the time I was camera ready, the baby had quit nursing and was edging around behind mom to get away from the strange, noisy animal (jeep) that had approached. Mom and the baby’s big sister (probably about 4 or 5) were unperturbed.

Later, we encountered a large troop of baboons. They were not willing to let us get nearly as close, and fled into the bush.

The day’s main event was visiting a village outside the park. Once again we had to navigate through the enormous open-pit mines that are destroying the landscape. We later learned that most of the men in the village work for the Chinese in the mines. Though wages are low and working conditions are very poor, it is the only employment available. And with the unemployment rate in Zimbabwe at nearly 80% (NOT a typo!) they feel fortunate to have the jobs at all.

We stopped at a roadside “shopping mall” much like the one where we had met Clive a couple days ago. Our trip leader gave us shopping lists in the native language along with cash and sent us in groups to shop for the village. Fortunately, the shopkeepers knew the drill and helped us fulfill our orders — corn meal, millet, cooking oil, sugar, soap, etc. With the remaining change we bought candy for the village kids who are off school for Easter holiday.

This village is unique in that the “head man” of the village is actually a woman — quite rare in this culture. She greeted us in perfect English and welcomed us to explore any and all buildings, to take any photos we wished, and to ask questions of anyone we met.

The children were shy, but crowded around when the candy was distributed. Mary discovered that the adults were just as eager for the sweets.

Boys in the village were playing soccer with a homemade ball of plastic bags. They were overjoyed when one man in our group gifted them with a brand new soccer ball — a real one, along with a hand pump and pin to blow it up.

The women prepared tea and a traditional lunch consisting of a millet paste with a side sauce of ocra. The sauce was pretty tasty, but the millet might better have been used as wallpaper paste. It was also very difficult to get the orca sauce to stick to the millet, which we shaped into bite sized balls with our fingers. No silverware available. We ate politely, nevertheless.

Lunch was followed with an open discussion with the village women and just a few men who were either elderly or not working today. The questions from both sides were largely about marriage practices and gender roles.

We learned that the women here walk 5 kilometers (about 3 miles) to the river and carry 3 or 4 gallons another 5km home for drinking and washing. This village is progressive in that some of the men will sometimes cook or even change a diaper if their wife is not feeling well. Otherwise, all domestic chores fall to the women.

When our discussion ended, we unloaded the gifts we had brought from the “shopping mall” and other items that people had brought from home. The villagers showed their appreciation by singing and dancing, many with bags of meal or bottles of oil balanced on their heads. If the gifts were unappreciated, the villagers certainly did not show it.

Kashawe

​Yesterday was a travel day, flying from Johannesburg’s O.R. Tambo International Airport to Victoria Falls International Airport in Zimbabwe on a small, 48-passenger jet. 

As we were landing, we got a glimpse of Victoria Falls from the air. We’ll return here near the end of the trip to see the Falls up close, on the ground.

From the airport we boarded a small, 20 passenger bus (even though there are only 13 of us, plus our trip leader) for a three hour ride toward Hwange National Park.

The “highway” made the worst of Iowa or Minnesota potholes look like smooth sailing. So we were not exactly traveling at highway speed.

We had one stop at a very primitive roadside area. The people were extremely friendly, and our new best friend “Clive” volunteered to take us on a tour of the place that included the butcher shop, the sports bar, grocery store (where we met his father and uncle, above) and the porridge restaurant. Porridge is a stew of beef or goat, often mixed with or served on top of mashed boabob fruit (think sour mashed potatoes). We declined the taste test, especially since we had just seen the butcher shop where the meat probably had come from.

Later, a more modern rest stop had excellent ice cream cones for 50 cents U.S. The same soft-serve would have been $3 at home.

Our route took us through a series of huge open-pit coal mines that are disrupting thousands of acres of countryside. These are being operated by Chinese and Russian companies that bypass environmental regulations by bribing the inspectors. Bribes are common here for nearly everything. We are told that a U.S. 5 dollar bill can get a person out of almost any traffic ticket or hassle with a border guard.

The mines extend right up to the border of the national park. But the elephants don’t read the signs, so we passed a small family of elephants grazing in the midst of the mines.

Just inside the park we transferred from the bus to open-sided game ride jeeps for another hour+ ride to our home for the next 4 days, Kashawe Camp, owned and operated exclusively by OAT.

These roads made the highway I described earlier look like an interstate. Imagine the worst-maintained rural gravel road in Iowa.

The camp is quite nice. Our “tent” does have a canvas roof and sides, but a wooden screen door, electricity, wi-fi (albeit slow), and full bathroom with hot and cold running water. It’s not roughing it, and is a big step up from what we had in Tanzania 16 years ago.

Food is very good, and we have a full bar where we can purchase beer, wine, and mixed drinks at quite reasonable prices.

We crashed early, still dealing with jet lag, but slept well and were ready for departure on our first game drive shortly after sunrise this morning.

It’s just after the rainy season here, so everything is very lush and green. There are also a lot more trees than we envisioned. This makes seeing the animals much more difficult.

Nevertheless, our game drive driver, Garry, has very sharp eyes, and we were able to see impalas (larger deer), hydrax (rodent-like creatures), cliff springers (small deer), and warthogs, as well as many species of birds. 

At a lake, we observed hippos and crocodiles

On the way back to camp for lunch, a large bull elephant greeted us just outside the camp, and he was kind enough to pose politely for our photos before moving on.

Joburg

​It’s a very long flight from Minneapolis-St. Paul to Johannesburg, South Africa. Luckily, on the longest leg of the trip, from Atlanta to Johannesburg, we had some empty seats around us so that we could spread out and get some sleep. Even so, arriving at our hotel about 9 p.m. local time, we crashed for a full 8 hours.

Because our OAT tour doesn’t begin until Saturday, we booked a day trip with a local tour company to have a quick overview of Johannesburg.

Unfortunately, Good Friday is a major holiday here and all of the museums and historical sites were closed. Nevertheless, we got to see Mandela Square, and to get a very good look at the sharp contrast between the “haves” and the “have nots” here.

A high wall kept us from seeing Mandela’s house, but we could read some of the hundreds of messages written on rocks that people have left outside.

Soweto (the SOuthWEstern TOwnship) is famous as the locus of the fight for racial equality in this country. We were surprised to learn of contrasts even here, where there are modern new homes next to squatter slums.

We were also a little shocked to see goats feeding on garbage and the sidewalk restaurants serving “gentlemen’s menus,” which are parts of a cow one generally would hesitate to eat.

We also got a glimpse of Desmond Tutu’s modest home (somewhat obscured by foliage), and some outdoor monuments to the anti-apartheid struggle. But the tour ended early due to the many closures. Just as well, as we join the OAT group and head to the airport very early tomorrow for our flight to Zimbabwe.