You Can't Have Breakfast with Oprah Winfrey

Last night, Tory (the Peace Corps girl living here in Kachikau) and I went over to Ramolele’s house, and had a glass of wine with a couple of the secondary school teachers. On Sundays, they often sit under a tree in someone’s yard, drinking beer/wine, listening to jazz and talking politics. I’ve had a couple of interesting sessions listening to them debate, about everything from Obama winning the Nobel Peace prize (which embarrassingly they had to inform me of—I had not read a paper in a while…) to Mugabe’s antics in neighboring Zimbabwe. Yesterday evening, the conversation turned to the tourism industry here in the Chobe area. The common conundrum came up—on the one hand, tourism brings in a lot of money to central government, but on the other hand, local people don’t benefit all that much, and on top of that, most Batswana can’t afford to even see their own parks and reserves. Botswana’s “high end low volume” policy means that only the richest of the rich can take a vacation to see Chobe’s plethora of wildlife and natural beauty. While self-drive camping is always an option, if you want to stay in proper lodgings (either for comfort or lack of camping equipment), then you’re looking at a cool $1,000 a night. John suggested that the high-end low volume policy came partly out of a recognition that foreign tourists don’t want to see lots of people around while they are enjoying their catered breakfast in the bush—they want to see wildlife. And honestly, in my experience, this is pretty true. Camps and lodges cater to the myth of wild Africa, and tourists pay top dollar for it. Safari-goers in Botwana often boast that in a whole day they didn’t see any other people, unlike in Tanzania or Kenya where ten game drive vehicles may crowd around a lion kill. As Ramolele put it, if Oprah Winfrey is sitting down to her luxury camp breakfast, then I can’t just pull up a chair and join her. We all laughed but I couldn’t help but think back to something Tory had pointed out—that really there are two myths or images of Africa—one of starving needy people and the other of pristine wildlife-filled savannahs. And the two tend to stay separated in outsiders’ minds. Either Oprah is starting a school for underprivileged girls in South Africa or she is on safari on the lookout for elephants, insulated from a human-filled landscape. But then where does somewhere like the Chobe Enclave fit, where you find puff adders in the back yard, fathers and sons fishing for dinner in the picture-perfect river channels, and schoolteachers who just want an affordable way to cruise around the park on a weekend off?

Go Monate!

Means..It’s tasty! I think I can honestly say that my favorite part of travelling to new places is trying the local food. Botswana is not exactly known for its cuisine (it doesn’t compare with Indian-influenced Tanzanian food, or delicious West African stews), but I still like discovering fruits and veggies I’ve never heard of before. And here, many of these edible novelties come from the river. Yesterday, Rra Serome came back from Parakarungu (his home village and one of my field sites) with what looked like sugar cane, but apparently grows at the bottom of the river and can be pulled up and eaten raw. He broke me off a piece and showed me how to chew it and then spit out the fibers and skin, just like sugar cane. It has a refreshing watery taste, almost like jicama. Then he gave me a piece of what looked like a creamy-tan colored piece of soft bark—from the mokolwane palm tree. I ate it and I guess not surprisingly, it tasted quite similar to…hearts of palm! But at home, all I know about hearts of palm is that they come in a can soaked in water, and here, I had the remnants of the inner mokolwane tree sitting on a plate in front of me. Nothing like knowing exactly where your food is coming from! I’m still waiting to try tswii (water lily bulbs), but in the meantime Rra Serome has also brought back freshly fried tilapia (lots of bones but still yum) and tonight, kgaka (guinea fowl), which Sega will prepare for lunch tomorrow.

Small Accomplishments

I am gradually getting adjusted to the slow pace of life here, and what seems will inevitably be the slow pace of my research in the Enclave. I have decided that as long as I accomplish at least two or three things a week that make me feel good about my work and progress, then I am satisfied. This past week, I had two such moments, though very different from each other.
On Wednesday, I drove to the village of Parakarungu with Mpho (my research assistant from last year), and Kaelo and Chiza (two female research assistants on a ‘trial run’ of sorts) to give a presentation on my research at the village kgotla, or meeting place. I brought the giant laminated posters I had trucked over from the U.S. and despite all the effort it took to get them here (insane amounts of money spent at Kinkos, then trying to fit them in poster tubes with mom’s help, then trying to check them at the Delta check-in counter, then having an Air Botswana customs official insist on inspecting them), I think it was well worth it. I had printed onto posters some of the PowerPoint slides I have used in previous academic presentations, simplified the accompanied dialog, and then tried to translate it into Setswana. I should say tried, because in the end, Mpho basically had to translate my bad Setswana into proper Setswana that could be understood by the audience. That part was humbling, but what felt good was that I actually got a conversation going about the topic of my research (rural-urban migration). At first, people were hesitant to talk, but when Mpho encouraged them to give their thoughts on what I had just said, a lady spoke up and started to explain why she thought it was that so many people leave the village and go to towns like Kasane. In the discussion that followed, reasons ranged from lack of shops in the village (many people from the village head to the Safeway equivalent in Kasane to buy their groceries) to a more depressing reason I hadn’t thought about before—there is no mortuary in the village. (Remember, this part of Botswana has the highest AIDS rate in the country, somewhere hovering around almost 40%). As people spoke, I began to think, hey, maybe this is actually going to work! As in, maybe I will manage to conduct some focus groups and interviews over the next couple months and actually learn something interesting and new that I can write about. The focus groups begin next week (people signed up at the end of the kgotla meeting, though mainly I think because I said lunch would be served for participant), and we will see how they go. I’ve never led focus group discussions before, but I guess there’s nothing like figuring it out as you go!
My second accomplishment of the week was very non-academic and non-cerebral—I learned how to change a tire on my very large Toyota hilux double-cab truck. I am so embarrassed to admit that in all my years of driving, I’ve never learned how to change a wheel, not in the U.S. and not even when I lived in Botswana previously. Pretty pathetic. I am determined this time around to be a bit more self-sufficient. So I enlisted my mechanic Ryan to give me a lesson. And I realized that it is not actually all that complicated. It requires a bit of arm strength that I don’t quite have, but Ryan showed me some tricks to make it a bit easier for me (like standing on the spanner with all my weight to get the bolts to unscrew, rather than try in vain to tug on them with just my arms). After I’d changed the wheel, he also took me for a driving lesson in sand and I tested out using the 4x4 in high and low range to get out of deep, deep sand. Afterwards I went to the hardware store and bought a spade for digging the wheels out, if necessary. I think I am ready for a safari now!
In a funny way, I felt just as good about learning to change the tire as I did after I delivered my research presentation in Parakarungu. I’m realizing that I should look at these next ten months as not just about getting research done so I can write my dissertation and finally get this crazy degree, but also as a chance to learn a bit more about myself and push myself in ways I might not normally do at home. Thinking in this way relieves a bit of the “phd fieldwork anxiety” and reminds me that my life here isn’t just about my research, it’s about trying to take advantage of an experience I might never have again.

Note: Speaking of experiences that I hope I may never have again…as I write this, we just found the largest puff adder I have ever seen curled up outside beneath my bedroom window. Yikes!

Here is the car

Go Mogote

It is hot here. incredibly so. hot Hot HOT! Or in Setswana, "Go Mogote". "It's Hot". Ok enough about the heat. In other news, I have a car!! A Toyota Hilux double cab, purchased from a researcher friend of mine who just finished his PhD--and it is now officially MY research vehicle! Needs a few things fixed, but otherwise its in good shape. Sadly, no air con. But here is a photo....