Saturday, December 6, 2008

Feeling antsy

Last night the rains fell in Maun. Stuart, Kim, Kyeren, Rian, James and I were sitting near the campfire and under the thatched lapa to savor roast chicken, potato bake and a green salad-- one of my last meals at the Boro. It felt perfect to be back with people who have been like family to me. They've checked on me, fed me, invited me along on outings and kept me entertained with endless stories. They were telling some good ones last night when the big storm came, and I was treated to another African phenomenon: The rain causes big white flying ants to zoom out of the ground! Guess where they fly? Yep. Into your hair, on your shirt, down your shirt, into your lap, onto the table. Even the dogs looked confused by the biblical swarm.

I think of it as another lesson about the animals of Botswana. I've never given the insects their due. I won't miss many of them. What I will miss on the Boro: the lesser bushbabies that leapt from tree to tree above my cottage, the genet that enjoyed the chicken bones, the scavenging francolins in the yard, the screeching barn owls, the little bard owl, the cacophony of bullfrogs, the music of the doves in the morning that we say sing: "You have to work harder," followed by their afternoon chorus, "You have to drink lager!" I'm glad I didn't see the two Mozambique spitting cobras discovered inside my cottage earlier in the year. I did see Stuart and Kirk don plastic welder's glasses and grab a snake stick to capture a cobra on the property the other night. That was a show worthy of the Discovery Channel. They gingerly placed it in a blue plastic container and the next day released the creature at the rice project.

I missed the python they caught near the campfire a couple of weeks ago, and, seriously, I would have enjoyed seeing it and the bush guys' expertise at snake handling. I was in the bush. Snakes, though, may well be on the run from now on at the Karibu property. Just spotted under my deck: a dwarf mongoose. I'll sleep better tonight knowing he's there, on snake patrol.

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A magical flower

A magical flower
The guide squeezes this flower and it squirts water like a water pistol

Cathy and Joe Wanzala

Cathy and Joe Wanzala
They couldn't wait to paste the Obama sticker on their car

My main man

My main man
Ernest is my trusty cab driver who blasts music as we make our way through Gabs

Ted Thomas, man of intrigue and style

Ted Thomas, man of intrigue and style
My friend, Ted, and his wife, Mary Ann, hosted a Safari Send-Off for me in Austin and treated me to a special mix of African music that already a UB student and a professor want to download.