Maun, a drinking town with a safari problem

After 6 weeks out of town, I had my first real weekend back in Maun, and had forgotten what a strange little town it really is...Friday night was spent at the Sports Bar, which is normally a pretty slow pub type of place, but for some reason was hopping that night. Perhaps it was because the British military training unit was in town, although I like to think it was to celebrate my return. :-)
Then saturday I was back at my old haunt, the River Lodge, catching up with Debra (my former house-sitting mate), dancing around to Sister Sister with Neil and Andrew the bartenders and playing a game of pool--but sadly my pool skills have not improved much! Going out here is sort of like Cheers, where everyone knows your name. And if they are not sure on that, they at least know something about your life history, which can be a bit disconcerting at times. The town is too small for each bar to have its own type of clientele; instead, everyone just figures out where everybody else is going and gathers there. This results in a rather odd mix of people of all ages socializing together. While it seems a bit weird at first, having just emerged from a world solely inhabited by 18-22 college kids, it is actually one of the really nice things about Maun. Kids here grow up not being afraid to talk to adults, and in return they are treated as equals. It is not unusual, for example, to see barefoot four-year olds racing around the lawn of the River Lodge, as their parents socialize at the bar. A different way of life from home, thats for sure, but then again, not much here is similar to anything back in the States...
thats if for now, but check out my flickr account for pics from Daniel and my trip! (http://www.flickr.com/photos/claregupta )

Elephant Encounter Part II

Our time together in Botswana falls into two parts: the nightmarish first part and the breathtaking second. The first part—which included three days of mindblowingly boring driving (from the SA border to Maun), Daniel being subjected to drunken, anti-American wrath while Clare conducted a project interview, and the grand finale, Clare’s truck nearly exploding 60k into the middle of nowhere—this first part we soon hope to forget.
After we regrouped, got a new vehicle, and risked our lives in Zambia, we reentered Botswana with a fresh start. On our first night at a campsite at Ihaha, where we had a view of elephants bathing in the Chobe River, we discovered after sundown that we were not quite alone. A troop of barking monkeys took up residence for the night in a nearby tree, from which they serenaded us all evening. It was a bit like walking into an Alfred Hitchcock movie.
The next day, on our way to Savuti, one of the more beautiful areas in the Chobe National Park, we were again reminded of the proximity to peril that’s part of daily life here in Africa. Cruising along, an enormous, nay, terrifyingly enormous black mamba snake appeared out of nowhere and reared its venomous head four feet above the ground, coming a little too close to our open windows. Car and snake collided. We sped on, then turned back, nervous, to see if it was still in the road. But no sign of the creature. Clare was now certain that it was hiding under her seat.
She soon forgot this after we found ourselves stuck in deep sand less than five minutes later. Small children appeared out of the bush, and in exchange for chocolate biscuits, they gave the car a push. We spent the afternoon relaxing at our next campsite and enjoyed a lovely sunset, but the real excitement of the day didn’t arrive until the 10:30 hour (note time and refer to previous post).
We had been in bed for an hour when we were suddenly awoken by the sound of sticks and pods raining down on our tent. Peering through our tent window, we made out the silhouette of something very large, nay, terrifyingly large. Oh yes, it was an elephant. Several, actually.
For the next hour, we huddled motionless in the center of our tent, fearing the 7000kg footsteps of elephants walking around between our tent and the nearby trees. Despite our wish to go unnoticed in our termite mound-shaped tent, a particularly bold elephant began rubbing its trunk along our door and, more specifically, against Daniel’s feet. Apparently, Daniel’s feet smell like peanuts.
And well, nothing in the final three days of our trip lived up to this level of excitement, though we’ve had a very nice few days in Maun recovering from our adventure. It’s a little bit sad, honestly, but Daniel will be leaving in but a few hours. It’s been great. It’s been wonderful.
Stay tuned for Daniel’s adventures in Dubai and stories from Clare’s continued life in the Botswana bush. (Daniel and Clare)

Zambia/ Victoria Falls

While in his life explorer and evangelist David Livingstone only succeeded in converting one African soul, in death he got a pretty swell town named after him. Livingstone, Zambia, is home to half of Victoria Falls, which we both agree is one of the most amazing things, one of the most incredible natural wonders one could ever hope to see. An average of 143 million gallons of water cascade over the Falls per minute!
We started off our Vic Falls experience with a bang, or rather, with a scream. That was the sound of Clare free-falling for 3.5 seconds over the edge of a gorge, then swinging over the gorge's golden tree tops on what they call the Zambezi Swing: the biggest adrenaline rush you can imagine, followed by exhaustion and Zen-like calm. Yet that was not enough for these two adventure-seekers.
The next day, we spend the morning and afternoon whitewater rafting on the Zambezi River about 10k down from the Falls. There, we faced death on rapid 16B, otherwise known as "The Terminator." Our boat capsized and we found ourselves fighting for breath in 10ft-high, class 4 rapids. Daniel, in an attempt to rescue Clare, nearly drowned her as he held on tight to her life vest straps. But we survived. The river itself was beautiful as it wound between steep cliff sides dotted by trees just developing their early autumn colors. (Although Zambia's almost coming up on spring, but never mind that.)
Flirting with danger once more, we finished off our trip to Livingstone with an early-morning helicopter ride over the Falls. Daniel, who'd never ridden in a helicopter before, lucked out and got to sit in the front seat. From the air, we finally got a sense of the enormity of it all; from our lookout point two days before we'd only seen an eighth of it. We even saw elephants form above on our way back to the landing pad.
Now, as we write this, we're taxiing back to the border, heading into the Botswana bush once more. (Daniel and Clare)

P.S. And as we write this, a sign on the dash of our taxi reads "Many people who plan to seek God at the 11th hour die at 10:30 hour." It's currently 11AM and there's a man with a semi-automatic machine gun standing outside our parked car. Apparently, he's running late.

adventure in mozambique

mozambique is a very pretty place filled with fish, oranges, palm trees,
cripples (from land mines), and danger. upon arrival in the capital
city, maputo, we decided to take a walk from town down to the indian
ocean. we were later told, to our horror, that in fact we had just
walked along maputo's most dangerous street, where rape and murder are
a favorite pasttime. the walk was lovely, and our evening at the plush
apartment of a swiss development official and her argentinian chef
husband was most enjoyable.
We left the next morning headed for the beach. The drive was filled with potholes.
then daniel got us stuck on a sand dune. the beach, however, exceeded
all expectations. the next few days we occupied our time with diving,
sailing, horseback riding on the shore, visiting the small town of
inhambame, and enjoying sundowners on our bungalow's veranda. before
we knew it, it was time to leave. clare's land rover did not agree
with this plan.
filling the tank on our way out of town, we attracted the attention of several
south african tourists wildily gesticulating at our petrol tank. fuel
was gushing out. we called the lodge and a mechanic was dispatched to
our rescue. we were told it would take 10 minutes to fix. four hours,
a dozen local would-be mechanics, one cup of yogurt, two ipod playlists,
and one leather glove later, a new o-ring sealing the fuel line to the
tank had been jerry-rigged.
we set off late for maputo with some trepidation having been informed
by our swiss friend that "it is not advised to drive into maputo after
dark." (read: you will get hijacked and die.) meanwhile, it seemed
that clare had contracted malaria. we made it into town, and after a
long night by the toilet, we decided that rather than suffering from
malaria, clare had unwittingly consumed an offensive cider. it
probably expired in the 1980's.
despite run-ins with testy roadblock police, disease, sunburn, harrowing
automotive travel, even jellyfish!--despite it all, mozambique was
a gem.