505 Words
Africa - Botswana -
Look W-a-a-a-a-y Up - An African Adventure
Our guide, Justice holds up his dark hand and points. "Stop," he whispers, "Look to my right...and up." I look past his pink palm lit by the cool light, past the ant towers, scattered like 3 - 4 metre tall hoodoos across the grassland....then...I see them.
The Friendly Giant's voice rings in my memory. "Look up. Look w-a-a-a-a-y up." We bend our necks back as the giraffes peer down. Their eyes shine as they follow our every move, though their rubbery lips never stop their sideways chewing of their treetop breakfast.
Across the savanna grasses, I see Truth stopping our other group to stare as elephants soft-shoe down a path beaten through the sedge.
It is 6 a.m. in the 15,000 sq km maze of the Okavango Delta, in Botswana, Africa. This is where the 1300 km-long Okavango River meets the Kalahari Desert to create the largest inland delta in the world. Only 3% of its waters will actually reach the sea, the rest creates blue-green lagoons, golden channels and lush islands before being absorbed by the sands and the thirsty air. This desert delta is home to hippos, crocodiles and an estimated 35 million fish, not to mention the many Batswana, San and Herero people.
Our group had arrived yesterday by mokoro - shallow-draft dugout canoes hewn from ebony or sausage trees - each boat carrying two passengers, bags, tents, food and the poler. Lying in the back, I'd been paralyzed by how low we sat in the water. I gripped my fingers over the edge of the hull and touched water at my first knuckle. The Batswanan woman poler stood as she slid her craft through the tea-coloured waters. She coughed continuously, a thick sick hack, the whites of her eyes yellow and rheumy.
Now, we are being guided by these men with such hopeful names, wearing such threadbare clothes. We walk all morning. There are baboons in the trees, wildebeest, zebras creating a shifting geometric maze to thwart their enemies, African fish eagles, vultures, antelopes - kudu, springbok, hartebeest, gemsbok - the variations go on endlessly. The animals, with the exception of the curious giraffes, ignore us, busy with survival.
We arrive at our tents in time for a furious lashing wind. Acacia branches clatter as the sand coats everything: the dishes, our lunch, our teeth and clothes. The dust makes my hair as thick and coarse as a cheetah's.
We lean against large grey tree trunks to wait it out.
Justice explains the problems with the enormous game reserve. "The government has built a huge fence to protect the animals but the border is shared with Angola. The people in those camps are desperate. They climb the fence to hunt so they can eat."
Justice is asked what happens if the poachers are caught. His fingers move into the shape of a gun. He cocks his thumb as he says, "They are killed."
I stare past Justice.
I see Truth standing at the watery edge of the shore.
Join the animal kingdom: www.botswana-tourism.gov.bw
|
