Botswana was the SHITZ

So just a reminiscent walk down memory lane while I have time:

BOTSWANA

As I left this site with my last real update a month ago, I was in Zambia having just cliff jumped off the top of Victoria Falls, and getting ready to ride a taxi back towards South Africa.

At this stage I was fully embracing the idea of Whatev. I had sat in my hostel for an hour reading up on Botswana, and asking about ideas of places to stay or go, this resulted in me leaving with still no clue about anything in the entire country of Botswana. All I had heard was that it was mainly empty and the few sites were hard to reach and expensiv- a very good description for a guy trying to live off of about US$ 20 a day and with no transport except hitchihiking and taxis, if they were cheap. I thought that what could go wrong and just went for it.

My taxi ride was mainly uneventful but I got to meet Glen, an Australian photojournalist who had come to document the largest trail in Batswanan history. The trial was about a few tribes of Bushmen who had been forced off their ancestral lands in the Kalahari Game Reserve mainly because the government had found diamonds there, but also because people weren't supposed to be in the game reserves. Throughout the next 24 hours I would end up learning a lot from Glen about the Bushmen, the corruption of their chiefs and the government and general knowledge of Botswana. Yet again a lucky break that I met somebody going my way and knowledgable about the country.

The taxi took us to the Border Crossing, a ferry over the Zambezi River. The ferry was realitively small and thus caused a huge traffic line of Buses and Trucks trying to do business, plus it gave rise to a small but very active market. Glen and I bargained with moneylenders, always fun as they try to scam you out of money and just keep running 40 Pula shorter than they had promised. We both got okay deals and eventually also got all our money. We got our passports stamped, and headed toward the ferry having to closely gaurd all our possessions as Pickpockets were ubiquitus here and possed much bravado. The ferry ride was nice as well, and soon we were accepted in Botswana, taking a taxi to the 'Bus Stand.'

Glen was trying to reach Gabarone the capital in Southern Botswana, and so was pretty set on hitching a ride. I myself was more whatev, only hearing that places were expensive, but that there was a good place 100 kms south of where we stood, so that was my goal of the day. We stood in the heat, by the road, and nobody came, and once a car did pass the entire troop of hitchers around us would also spring for the ride and there would be no more seats. Frustrating and after a few hours I decided to stay at a cheap campsite that a guy told me about. I went and hired a tentsite, despite my lack of a tent. Filled up my waterbottles and went for a stroll into town, where I would need to grab a 6am bus the next morning. Nice little town, with a friendly and active township, everybody stared as the White Guy walked by. I ended up having a beer or two in town, as well as some questionable pulled meat dish, before making back to the camp around dark. Turned out Glen hadn't gotten a ride either, so we hung out and discussed politics: protesting different events, he was active in WTO actions and stuff fairly interesting. Went to bed early to wake up early, but was hindered by loud foriegners at the bar or pool all night.

Surprisingly I woke up on time without any alarm. As we had arranged the night before Glen came to wake me soon after. We were both packed and walking into town by 5:15, pre-sunrise, and were at the bus stand well in time. As the time approached the mass of hopeful riders did something unusual, they formed a line waiting orderly, but as expected once the bus arrived everyone bum rushed it, and me not wanting to shove, and carrying way too many bags couldn't advance thru the crowd. Eventually I was able to plea for the last spot, standing in the middle of the bus for the 4 hour ride to Nata. At about the same time I realized that I needed a toilet, as I realized diarreha was setting in, but with none available I had to hold it and ride out the cramps.

The bus ride was interesting, as there was only 1 road south from the Northern border crossing, it was pretty beat up. We had to slow down from time to time to let either a herd of cattle cross, or to be able to manuver lane wide potholes that could go on for up to a mile in succession. THis was fairly unpleasant for my bowels, and me, especially as I was unable to see and brace for the obstacles as my head was stuck to the rooff of the minibus. The best instance was when the driver came to a complete hault, and I bent down to see what the issue was; there were thickets to either side of us so not really a farming area, plus the road ahead was smooth, so I was confused. I scanned the road and their on the should stood an elephant, as big as the minibus with the 31 of us jammed in their and able to do whatever harm it wanted, so it was best to let it do what it wanted and try not to upset it. After a couple minutes of eating grass and staring at us, it crossed the road, and ate some more before retiring off into the woods, elephant adverted with no harm. The rest of the ride went well and I reached my mid way point of Nata.

At this point Glen and I split ways, which was unfortuante as it was beneficial to have a person to watch my luggage and speak with, but he had a time table and I had a different one. He went south and I went West. One issue that also arose in Nata, they had a public toilet to my relief, and I quickly went to releave pressure. Nice until I realized that there was no public toilet paper, so for the rest of the day my bum was wet, and this issue would continue thru the rest of Botswana, anal leakage and no paper- whatev is all you can say. From Nata I road and slept on a bus to Maun, a tourist hotspot as it is the last town going out into the Okavango Delta, the largest inland river delta in the world.

Once in Maun, I was hot sweaty and uncomfortable with my wet bum. So I wandered town agian, looking for a cheap place to stay, again all the lodges were priced around 200 pula (US$40) too much. But then luck struck again. I was standing at a lodge being discouraged by the price, and two rastas walked up. They heard my predicament and asked if I could wait a bit and they would show me a good place, worried of the price of said place and the fee that they wanted I was unsure, but without options, so I learnt to trust the Rastas. They in fact took me to their friends place, while discussing the idea of them and me all going for a camp out in the woods, and their desires to be tour guides, I was down for anything, especially if it had toilet paper and a shower. They grabed their friends tent and we got back in the car, and while rolling a fattie drove out to a hotel, where they booked me a tent site, paid for me and went out back to set up my tent. That was fairly cool. Then they promised to be out front but encouraged me to shower and relax and we would be up soon for good stuff. I really loved that shower, but once I was done I learnt that they had left me their with their frineds tent. I hung out around the lodge, nothing great but some people to talk and hang with. Eventually tired of a couple days of trying travel, so I went and slept in the tent. About an hour later they returned. They took me out, and we got high at another lodge talking about a man-eatting crocidile that was in the area, and then went to their place to watch Animal Planet, in the end returning to my tentsite at about 1 am, with only some time before a 6 am bus that I was planning on.

I slept through my bus. I slept till early afternoon, it was nice. I then wandered the lodge some more, with the thought of spoiling myself and sitting by the pool all afternoon. But coincedence got the better of me after I soon heard of a bus to Ghanzi a town in the Kalahrai Desert. I was off in a taxi to town, and got to wait outside the Sunday market for my bus, while waiting I learnt that it was departing an hour earlier than I expected and rushed to get a seat. This bus ride was acceptable, I didn't have to sit on my backpack, but I got to sit next to it, and the ride was a pleasant afternoon few hours dropping off bushmen right in the bush, just a dirt pull off to nothing, and arriving at Ghanzi, the only town in Southwestern Botswana, in easly dusk. Yet again I bought a tent sight with no tent. Left my stuff and went around town. I went to investigate the source of the loud music and found what I still think could have been a Bushmen gay bar. There was music, a tarp under which the "bar" seemed to be composed of a couple of guys with cases, and then in the middle of the clearing there was one guy dancing. He was doing some sorta highstepping chicken dance, and started to approach me, with every couple of steps looking me in the eyes and smootching in my direction. I let him approach but stopped him an arms length from my face, the whole time him sending me smootches, and me being fairly confused. Could bushmen really be gay, they were supposed to be too innocent, was he welcoming me? Idonknow. And after being cat called by another guy, for having George W. as a president, I was on my way out, first being stopped by another guy who childishly starred at me in wonder and asked if could come home with me, I really don't know. I left. Back at the hotel where I was camping, I had a lovely diner of a small salad and bowl of soup, then retired to the bar to fall asleep in front of KingKong, followed by sleeping in my sleepingbag, in open air with tons of African Mosquitos and bugs, and the sound of rolling thunder. The whole early night I tried to sleep, fighting mosquitos and watching the apporaching storm. I slept very well once I did.

Up before dawn the next day. Again no alarm and right on time. Packed my bag and everything and was on the 6am bus with a few minutes to spare. The bus to Gabarone, the capitol of Botswana and departure for my next day bus trip to Jo'burg, ended up costing me double once the ticket collector gave me the worst possible conversion rate I had ever heard of, but I had only South African Rands and no access to more Pula. I slept on the ride to Gabarone, and ended up pulling into the city fairly early in the day.

I arrived in Gabarone, like I arrived in Botswana with no knowledge of the place except for the fact that I was leaving soon. I asked people on the street about places to stay or lodges, not that there is much of a tourist industry there, and people kept telling me it would be cheaper out of town, by the university, or just it would be expensive. I was adopted quickly one couple who I asked about a place to stay, and they took me with them. Eventually they were helping me get water as I was hungry and sweaty in the African sun and I had not really eaten at all yet that day. And soon after the water break they were friendlier, enough so to carry my luggage for me. They lead me to a couple lodges after hiking for about an hour out of town, but these places were still way more money than I had with me, so we kept wandering until they recalled a student house, where I was able to get a cheap room with no frills for about all of my money( I was left with 2.5 pula, enough for my taxi ride the next morning). My friends left, going over to hang out and eat dinner by themselves, and I was told that I had to leave the house because i only paid for a half day, but one of the residents, Gery from LA (a 34 yr old guy that was working as a mechanic in Botswana for no aparaent reason and rather reminded me of Jassdep Panu), said dont worry, and we soon were out back hanging out with a little greenery that we bought for less than a dollar across the street. We hung out all afternoon and night. I enjoyed a shower at one point, getting annoyed in the process because my still wet bum, recieved added stress when even this place that I paid to stay at had no toilet paper, thankfully Gery lent me a roll. I got to meet one of earry's friends from the University, and then his girlfriend who had actually won the original African version of "Survivor" and was still waiting on recieving her US$100,000, a lot of money over there. It was all pretty interesting, but soon I was tired and slept knowing that I had to wake up the next morning to cathc a bus into Jo'burg, and go visit the van Heerdens who I was unsure if they even knew that I would be coming, as I had left voicemessages on random phones of theirs but had no way of reply.

Life in Botswana was more along the lines of common American perceptions of Africa. The entire way I went unplanned, and almost everyday somebody saw me and randomly took me in to show what to do in town and help me along the way. The points that I had heard before entering the country were true, everything was far apart and remote - hence I spent most of my time traveling and not too much time in town's or doing activities; plus things were expensive - I left Botswana with no Pula left, not even change I do believe, I had only a small amount of American money left in my wallet that I could exchange if I needed to, but tried not too as it was worth the most around there and was left as my emergency funds. But Botswana did show me a good time, at times it almost forced me to relax and enjoy myself as i was on the way to try and end whatever adventure i was on, especially when my bowels gave rumblings. As well across this part of the trip, I do believe that my malaria pill, which I was still taking every day, were in full swing especially with the side effect of aneroxia, which does slim down a person and makes food undesirable. But this all lead to a very odd experience that I think that I would gladdly relive, hence Botswana was the shitty Shitz.