Walking with the Bushmen
Trip Start
Jan 04, 2008
1
10
23
Trip End
Jan 31, 2008
Loading Map
Map Options
Show trip route
Hide lines
Maun, Botswana
Monday, January 14, 2008
The Bushmen are the first natives of this area, and live off the land by foraging, hunting and gathering. At first glance, you would think that there is nothing of nutritional value in the desert. Just small shrubs and dried up vegetation. However, it soon became very apparent that if you know where to look, there is a lot to eat in the desert.
The Bushmen (and women) do not speak English. They speak a dialect that uses click sounds for constantans. The interpreter does his best to translate, but he admits that their language is difficult to understand. At first, we are all very serious... much like students in school. But within the first few minutes, we realize that the Bushmen are a very lively bunch. They continually make jokes and have the whole group laughing just with their body language and gestures. The 6 foot 8 inch guy in our group fascinates one of the older Bushmen. He laughs heartily when he has to jump to touch the top of his head!
For the hour and a half walk thought the desert, we learn all sorts of herbal medicines, hunting techniques and even how to build a fire. I can't say that I would be able to survive in the desert, but I would have a fighting chance now!
After the Bushman walk we headed to the town of Maun which will be our last stop until the Okavango Delta. The town itself isn't much to write home about. There is one main street with your typical shops that we quickly run into get supplies. (ie. Water and beer). I find the people of Botswana to be very nice, and somewhat reserved. Botswana itself is one of the wealthier African countries although you would never know it from appearances. The people dress rather simply, and their houses and cars are very are not what I could consider posh. But their attitude definitely portrays a very happy society.
We head to camp about ½ hour outside the town and set up for the night. After a nice dinner and some drinks, we all retire to our tents at the usual 10pm to sleep soundly. Our sleep was rudely interrupted at 4 am when the world exploded into a crazy thunder storm. I was laying in my tent, listening to the rain and counting the number of seconds between lightening and the sound of the thunder, remembering that my dad told me when I was young that each second means the storm is one kilometer away. It started off being 10 second, then 5, then 2. Oh crap. I was realizing that pitching the tent under a large tree was not the best place to be a thunderstorm. Then, the lightening and thunder was instantaneous. The ground shook with each blast! Hiding in my sleeping bag, I was just wishing the damn storm would pass! Finally, the thunder stopped. With my ears ringing I stuck my head out of the door. There was a lake around me! Luckily my tent was on a small hill.
