Goodhope Plaza

Goodhope Plaza

Saturday, December 28, 2013

They Ride Ponies, Don't They?


THEY RIDE PONIES, DON’T THEY?

            Stephanie and I spent six days visiting Lesotho in December. It is high on the list of vacation spots for Peace Corps volunteers in southern Africa. Why would people want to see this small mountain kingdom entirely enclosed within South Africa? Because it is one of the most beautiful and interesting places on earth. Also, its lowest point of elevation above sea level is the highest of any country in the world, even higher than that of Nepal.

            Our friend from Gaborone traveled with us, and we drove his SUV the 670 km for nine hours to arrive at our destination.  We traveled across the Northwest and Free State provinces of South Africa, prosperous farming areas that topographically resemble in some ways the American Midwest. Along the way we encountered long domed artificial hills that resembled huge Twinkies: they were created from tailings dug out of a number of underground gold and diamond mines. We did drive through several larger towns, and could see the legacy of apartheid: a neat northern European style town center with shops, government buildings and a large Dutch Reformed Church; on the outskirts a “settlement”, really a shanty town of many tiny huts. The settlements now have been upgraded with new concrete block cottages, electricity and street lighting. The shops and public places in the town seem to be fully integrated: the challenge for South Africa is the economic divide between racial groups. Enough politics.

            As we approached the Lesotho border, we could see in the distance the green Maluti mountain range of eastern Lesotho. Once through the immigration post near Maseru, the capital, the curves in the road increased along with the elevation above sea level. We headed toward our first destination: Malealea, a remote village on the edge of a mountain valley. The roads became steeper up and down along the edge of ravines cut out of the soft limestone plateau. The pavement ended 7 km from our destination, where we crossed a mountain pass called the “Gates of Paradise”, so named because of the spectacular mountain scenery.
 
View from Malealea Lodge
            The village of Malealea, dominated by the Lodge of the same name, stood at the end of this road. The settlement contained two small general dealers (convenience stores), a school and a clinic. The Lodge featured a conglomeration of chalets spread along a hillside, some with and without bathrooms, with a large main building nearby divided into a recreation room, bar and dining room. People come to Malealea for the outdoor activities. I went mountain biking, led by a merciless guide who had no sympathy for my current living situation in a flat desert plain. I also went hiking with a friend to see a steep ravine and falls. We did not hire a guide for that, thinking that the directions would be adequate. They were not, since they led us along a stream at the bottom of a ravine blocked by a huge boulder. The only way forward required us to jump off the boulder ten feet into a pool below of uncertain depth. We doubled back instead, scrambled up a cliff and then seemed to have lost our way. But ahead we located a couple, led by a guide. We talked with them: Dartmouth (Tuck) business students on holiday. I remarked to them how it seemed they couldn’t take even two weeks away from New Hampshire without climbing a mountain.

            After three nights at Malealea, we got back in the SUV and traveled for many kilometers over treacherous dirt roads, on the edge of ravines, up and down over passes, to a larger village in the middle of Lesotho: Semonkong, elevation 7800 feet. The village downtown was filled with small horses (ponies) hitched up like something out of the old American west. The pony owners were busy doing their shopping. Semonkong Lodge was located on the edge of the village, along a busy horse track into the mountains beyond. And that is where we stayed for the next three nights.

            Because Lesotho is so mountainous, most of the settlements cannot be reached by road. The Lesotho pony has been bred as a compact sure-hoofed method of transportation. It is clearly the preferred vehicle to get around. Also, because Lesotho is so mountainous, it gets quite cold, even in summer. So the Basotho immediately took to the blankets brought by missionaries 150 years ago. Today, men and women alike wear a colorful wool blanket as outerwear, summer and winter. There are certain popular patterns and colors. They ride their ponies, tend their cattle and sheep, and plow their hillside fields while wearing the blankets. A visitor may forget that he is in Africa: it seems more like a scene from high up in the Andes.
 
Lesotho men bundled up in wool blankets in summer. 
           
Lesotho boy wearing blanket leading me to a waterfall
We engaged a guide and went for a pony trek to see a 200-meter water fall for which the village is named. The lodge offers a chance to rappel down the side of the falls (supposedly the longest rappel distance in the world). We declined, but our friend did so.
 
Semonkong Falls, 205 meters
Stephanie on her steed
            At the lodge, we ran into three Peace Corps volunteers from Mozambique, touring around after having just completed their service. We also met a Lesotho volunteer based in Semokong. He told us that he had been trained in pony riding and was considering getting one to help him in his work. Apparently Peace Corps Lesotho pays volunteers an extra 300 Rand ($30) per month if they take on a pony. We urged him to get the pony, if only for the coolness factor upon his return to the United States, where he could tell listeners about how he spent two years getting around on horseback in Lesotho.

            Peace Corps volunteers in Lesotho consistently report a very high level of satisfaction with their placement, despite the mountains, cold weather and primitive standard of living. They may be on to something.

            

A Lucky Safari

A LUCKY SAFARI

            When Americans or Europeans travel to see the great African wild animals, they usually end up with some kind of package tour that includes airfare, transfers, accommodations and guided excursions through a game park. It’s not cheap, but there is a wide range of prices for these package tours. The destinations are usually in East Africa (probably Kenya and/or Tanzania) or southern Africa (South Africa and/or Botswana).  Safari companies along with government tourist agencies promote these options. The Botswana tourism folks made the decision a long while ago to focus on the development of small, high-end facilities. It is a better animal conservation strategy, and it is more profitable. So, in Botswana, you are less likely to find hotel style lodges overlooking a watering hole and more likely to find small luxury tented camps or cabins near a private air strip that can go for up to $2000 per person per night.


            Peace Corps volunteers use money from home (or from their parents) to fund their safari adventures. I previously talked about our June trip to Mashatu tented camp, which we visited off-season at Botswana resident rates. For our children’s visit, we wanted to do something different. We had heard good things about a guide from northern Botswana who organized customized safaris for a number of Peace Corps volunteers with visiting family. We made contact and hired the guide, Lucky Mokgowe, for what turned out to be a memorable eight-day adventure.

            Lucky started out his career working for one of the larger lodges in northern Botswana. He wanted to branch out on his own, and a Peace Corps volunteer customer gave him some advice to get started. Over the past few years, satisfied Peace Corps volunteers have helped Lucky create a business plan, develop a web site and register a trade name. I may end up helping him stop a competitor from using his business name, which is Lucky Adventure Safaris, www.luckyadventuresafaris.com.

            After our children stayed with us for four days in Goodhope, we all piled into a crowded combi bound for the capital, Gaborone. There, we boarded a plane for Kasane, a village in northern Botswana close to the borders with Namibia, Zambia and Zimbabwe. Lucky met us at the airport with his official golden yellow safari vehicle: an older Toyota Land Cruiser, customized with seating for 8 in the back and a pop up top that shields the sun. Fun Fact #1: the place on the Zambezi River where these four countries meet (give or take 150 meters) is the only quadripoint national border in the world.  
 
So many countries, so little time
            Lucky arranged for us to take a motorboat ride that afternoon along the Chobe River. It reminded us of the Scarborough (Maine) Marsh, with winding channels and tall green marsh grasses hosting many water birds. The difference was, of course, that the Chobe River also features hippos and crocodiles. Also many varieties of antelopes and other animals parade to the river’s edge for a drink. Our son (who works on a boat) was interested in the triple decked luxury hotel boats that ply up and down the Chobe to its confluence with the Zambezi. After our cruise, we spent the night at an inn in Kasane.
 
Just like the Scarborough Marsh, except for hippos (like these) and crocodiles
            The next morning, Lucky picked us up for our four-hour journey deep into Chobe National Park, to the area known as the Savuti River marsh (really, an area of meadows amidst the prevailing scrubby landscape). The paved road shortly gave way to gravel, and then to dirt as we bumped along deep into the bush. By mid-afternoon, we arrived at our home for the next three nights: a private campsite alongside a pool of the intermittently flowing Savuti River. Yes, Lucky specializes in camping safaris, where you really get close to the animals.

            Lucky’s two staffers, the cook and the assistant, had already set up camp by the time we got there. They had traveled earlier in the official Lucky Adventure Safaris support vehicle, which is another Land Cruiser outfitted to carry lots of gear. Our camp featured two khaki-colored tents, one for us and one for the children. Each tent contained two cots with mattresses, sheets and blankets. Lucky and his helpers pitched their own tents on the other end of the campsite. In the middle of the assemblage was a dining table and chairs shielded by an open-sided tent. In a corner of the campsite, hanging by rope from a tree branch, was a canvas water cylinder with a nozzle at the bottom. It made for a great shower, and for privacy there was a canvas wall frame around it. The kitchen area far from our tents featured portable propane gas cooktops along with large insulated picnic coolers to store food. There was even a small fridge that ran off a spare battery in the safari truck. The assistant dug a hole into the sandy red earth to form a small pit latrine, then crowned it with a metal frame holding a toilet seat and screened it by another canvas wall frame.
 
Dining tent, with other tents in the background
            Late that afternoon we began what would become a twice daily ritual: piling into the back of Lucky’s Land Cruiser for a 3 to 4 hour game drive. HE drove us all over the remote Savuti part of the park, stopping to watch lions sleeping and occasionally hunting, leopards feasting on a dead elephant, giraffes mating (hey, we weren’t alone, there was an elephant watching too), zebras, wildebeests and cape buffaloes grazing in large herds, elephants following their matriarch marching silently to a watering hole, impalas, waterbucks, kudus and other antelopes nervously watching their newborns as they munched on the new green grass, and solitary warthogs jogging along through all of this action, as if they were the stage managers for the drama taking place in the park. During the morning drive, Lucky would stop the Land Cruiser so we could get out and enjoy a cup of coffee. During the evening drive, he would stop at a scenic sunset overlook and serve us a glass of wine. One day we hiked up a small hill to see ancient rock paintings left by the San (Bushmen), the original inhabitants of southern Africa, now largely relegated to remote corners of the Kalahari.
Lucky, Pat and I on a hillside in front of San (Bushmen) rock paintings
 
Elephant with her calf near Chobe River. Botswana may have more elephants than any other African country.
Female lions walking in front of the Lucky official safari vehicle. They were hunting as a pair to take down a warthog, but a herd of elephants got in the way.
            After returning from the morning drive, we would eat a hearty brunch, then lay around the camp during the heat of the day. We did not venture far off. We could see droppings from a variety of animals nearby, and occasionally an animal would appear and drink from the pool. We had a campfire each night, and that kept animals away while we ate our dinner. Lucky warned us about the dangers of relieving ourselves during the night, after the fire went dark. We were told to survey the outside of the tent with a flashlight before emerging, and then we were advised to do our business close by, and not to venture all the way to the pit latrine. That was a good recommendation. Each night, we sensed steps outside of our tents, and heard the sounds of hyenas, baboons, elephants and zebras. It was not so much frightening as exciting, and moving. We could imagine the European explorers from 150 years ago encountering similar nighttime noises.

            After three nights at Savuti, we broke camp (actually, Lucky and his crew did all of the work) and we headed north for two nights at a campsite closer to the Chobe River itself. There the team again set up camp for us, and we enjoyed more game drives and more adventures. Closer to the river there were many Vervet monkeys and baboons. Among all of us primates, it was not clear who was watching whom. The monkeys crashed our evening wine event, grabbing errant crumbs of potato chips that fell on the ground.

            This camping safari was well worth the time and effort to get to Kasane. But Lucky had even more in store for us. After leaving the Chobe River camp, he drove us back through Kasane, across the Zimbabwe border, and on to Victoria Falls. We stayed there one night, enjoying both civilization and some of the finery of the colonial era. We had lunch on the verandah at the stately Victoria Falls Hotel (think of a tropical Mount Washington Hotel). We then walked along the paths around the Zimbabwe side of the mighty cascade. We declined many thrill-seeking opportunities: bungee jumping off the Zambezi River bridge, category 5+ white water rafting below the falls and swimming just barely above the falls in a place called Devil’s Pool. Fun Fact #2: Zimbabwe’s economy is such a basket case that it now uses the American dollar as its currency. I even got a Benjamin out of an ATM machine in Victoria Falls.
 
Victoria Falls, from the Zimbabwe side
            We said our goodbyes to Lucky at Kasane Airport and then headed back to Gaborone. The following evening, we said our farewells to Kate and Pat as they began their long journey home, through Johannesburg, London and Boston. The final verdict from the two of us: a wonderful safari and, more important, a wonderful visit with our children.
 
Here we are with Lucky and his official safari vehicle
                                               

Monday, December 16, 2013

We Gather Together...


WE GATHER TOGETHER…

            At last our children arrived for a visit on November 20th. It had been more than 14 months since we said our tearful goodbyes to them at Manchester Airport. Needless to say, we had been looking forward to this day every since then. Separation from family is one of the hardest parts of Peace Corps service. In the early months, we were able to keep in touch with email messages every so often. After we got a telephone line and DSL service in March, we could connect with them live via Apple’s Face Time. Sometimes we even send a text message. We do not bother to write letters home, because we can use these electronic options. Most volunteers in Botswana do not have the luxury of DSL, but still they are able to use email either through cellular data modems attached to their laptops or through a public computer at an internet cafĂ© in larger villages.

            Of course, it was not always this way. When Stephanie served in the Peace Corps in Kenya in the 1970’s, her family contact consisted of an exchange of letters each week with her parents. She wrote on an aerogramme – a combination letter/envelope made from thin onionskin paper. During those two years, she called home only twice, and then only because of the death of her grandmother.

            In the 1970’s, most volunteers never returned to the United States on vacation. Air travel was not as pervasive then. Also, it was just too expensive. Today, perhaps half of our volunteers do make the arduous trip home at least once. We decided not to do that, both because the air travel is so time consuming and difficult and because we hear that the cultural readjustment after returning back to site can be problematic. So, we arranged for our children to visit us. Similarly, in 1974, Stephanie’s mother did come to visit her in Kenya. It was the only overseas trip her mother ever took.

            Back to 2013. We escorted (via combi, of course) Kate and Pat to our home in Goodhope to stay here with us for four days. They visited our schools and we introduced them to the students and teachers. At my school, I talked at morning assembly about our upcoming Thanksgiving holiday. I told the students how important it is for Americans – no matter their religious or ethnic tradition -- to join with family to give thanks and to eat turkey, following a tradition going back almost 400 years. My talk was an example of Peace Corps Goal 2: explaining American values and culture to folks in our host country.
 
Here I am with our kids at morning assembly talking about American Thanksgiving
            My students knew how excited I was to have our children visit. Several adult males in our village were also excited: they wanted to marry Kate (negotiations broke down because I drove too hard a bargain on the number of cows the winning suitor would have to pay for her hand in marriage). Pat also had his share of interested ladies. This overt “interest” in our adult children illustrates a deeper societal issue in Botswana that we are asked to address in the fight against HIV/AIDS. But that would get us off topic.

            Thanksgiving dinner in Goodhope was scheduled for the following Saturday. Stephanie had scouted out turkeys for months. A homeowner on the other side of our village raises turkeys. We enquired about the availability of one of her flock but none was ready for sale (apparently turkey farmers in Botswana are not attuned to the Thanksgiving rush). So that left us to choose among the frozen-in-brine turkeys at the Pick n Pay in Lobatse, our distant shopping village. The meat manager had earlier told Stephanie that turkeys don’t move well off the shelves of his market, so she was able to delay her purchase until the Tuesday beforehand. Getting the bird home to Goodhope in an insulated bag via an hour-long combi ride proved to be more of a challenge. I met her at the combi stop not too far from our house and hefted the bird home. Luckily, it was not too hot a day.

            On Thanksgiving Saturday, ten volunteers serving in somewhat nearby communities joined the four of us. We fourteen enjoyed Stephanie’s roast turkey, homemade stuffing, mashed potatoes, squash, pickles and homemade peach pies. Stephanie had left nothing to chance. Among the 80 pounds of luggage she packed for our 2012 trip to Botswana were both Bell’s Seasoning (the secret ingredient for a successful turkey stuffing) and a pop-up turkey thermometer (which in the end failed us). We ate our feast in the living room, with each of us in turn saying something that we were thankful for (mostly family and each other).
 
Fourteen of us at Thanksgiving in Goodhope, November 23, 2013, with the turkey front and center
and the cook front and right. The rest of the family is mixed in with the ten other volunteers in attendance.
            The meal was a big success. There was enough turkey meat and squash left over for Stephanie to make a turkey soup. As is our practice here with food waste, I then threw the carcass and other leftovers over our fence for the goats, chickens, dogs and other animals to enjoy.

            This Thanksgiving meal was not only memorable for us, it also recreated history. While in Kenya, Stephanie along with others attended a Thanksgiving dinner hosted by an older Peace Corps volunteer. The host decided to serve the meal outdoors to the large group. As the Americans were enjoying their al fresco feast, a vulture swooped down out of the sky, grabbed the turkey carcass in its talons and flew off. Unlike this year’s Thanksgiving, there were no second helpings in Kenya.
 
Outdoor Thanksgiving, Eldoret, Kenya, 1974. Stephanie is the vision in pink.
 
            
Vulture at Thanksgiving, Eldoret, Kenya, 1974
That night, eight of the volunteers stayed at our house and slept on our floor. Kate and Pat got to hear first hand some of the challenges these younger volunteers face, ranging from the pervasiveness of sexual harassment; to the lack of water, electricity or furniture; to the presence of creepy flying, crawling or biting creatures. Our children also got to hear how these younger volunteers have learned to create, plan and execute new projects for their villages; to teach students using a mixture of Setswana and English; to cook for themselves using few ingredients; and to wash and bathe in very little water. It was memorable for them, and it was also a display of Peace Corps Goal 3: volunteers should explain the life and culture of their host countries to Americans, in order to give Americans a better understanding of the rest of the world.

            But our holiday with the kids was not all a series of “teaching moments”. Part two of our vacation took us up north, on safari. The story of that will follow in my next post.
 
We usually take a Thanksgiving Day family photo on our front steps to use with our Christmas greetings.
Here we are in Goodhope, Botswana. Christmas, 2013.