I Left My Mark on Maun

Last week, I flew to Maun to assist the Ngamiland Council of NGOs (NCONGO) with their Organizational Development Plan.   As an Organizational Development Advisor placed with BOCAIP, I had already been through this exercise once, so was happy to be able to help another organization with theirs.   I knew a couple of the dynamic, young NCONGO staff from Maatla project meetings, and was looking forward to working with them and learning more about their organization.

When it came time to board the plane, the dozen of us waiting in the departure lounge walked towards the Air Botswana plane, only to be redirected to a tiny, 20-seater charter plane run by Kalahari Air.  There was no standing room in the plane, so we had to duck to get to our seats.  I should mention that of the dozen of us, about half were unaccompanied minors.  The pilot crouched down through the aisle to buckle in the kids.  About 10 minutes into the flight, the passenger sitting in the front row reached into a cooler box behind the pilot and passed out cans of Coke and Fanta.  We dipped and turned to skirt past a couple of isolated rain showers, and the kids made the appropriate shrieks and yelps and airplane noises.   That was the most fun I’ve had on a flight in a long time!

I was greeted at the airport by a handsome young man holding a framed sign with the NCONGO logo and my name.  We chatted a little bit as he drove me the few metres to the airport hotel.  He seemed slightly disappointed to learn that I had been in the country for almost a year.  He had been told to pick up an Organizational Development Advisor from Canada. 

I settled into the hotel, which had only been open a few months. The staff was helpful and eager to please, which made it easy to overlook some of the kinks (unfinished fixtures, lamps with no light bulbs, a restaurant with missing menu items).  The bed was comfortable, the air conditioning and wireless internet worked, and I got my cable tv fix.  I was happy.

The next morning I met with the Director, and we agreed on a participatory approach for getting the plan done.  He assembled the staff and we went over the template format.  We then started to populate it by turning priorities previously identified through an organizational capacity assessment into activities with realistic targets, timelines, staff leads, and sources of outside support.  I noted their comments, and then worked for the rest of the day and evening on incorporating their input.  I also added items from their Maatla project workplan and their Strategic Plan for their consideration. 

I was getting a feel for what work must be like for consultants, who have short windows of time to become familiar enough with an organization to make a contribution.  The Director was quite keen to have a finished product at the end of my visit with them, and so was I.

On Day Two, we repeated the cycle of review, discussion, and incorporation of their input.  At the end of the day, I felt I had done as much as I could, so found a taxi driver to take me to one of the riverside lodges. 

We went to a couple of lodges before finding one with space on a sunset cruise.  It was a lovely, peaceful trip down the river, where we stopped to watch and learn about birds, spider webs, termite mounds, trees, and talk to local fishermen and women gathering lily roots.  The guide was full of information.  I would have loved to have asked him more questions, but I was coming down with a splitting headache, muscle aches, and a fever.  The most I could do was smile and nod and utter the odd “Aah” or “Is that so?”.

As I was setting up the meeting room the next morning, I was overcome by a wave of nausea and left a not so pleasant gift in NCONGO's kitchen sink.  I managed to hold it together long enough to review the final changes with the staff and get their consensus on who would do what by when.  At the end of the morning, we had a realistic plan the Director felt he could present to their board for approval.  My work was done!

I still had several hours to kill before my return flight to Gaborone, the only one going that day. After cleaning up the kitchen sink, I had the NCONGO driver drop me off at the lodge where I took my boat ride.  It seemed a pleasant enough place to spend the afternoon.   I ordered a ginger beer to help settle my stomache, but that was just enough to set me off again.  I left the lodge a memento of my visit in their courtyard bathroom, and again in the bushes by the pool.  I just couldn’t get comfortable, and time marched slowly by.  Finally, I decided it was time for a change of scenery.  I called a taxi to take me to the café by the airport.  At the café, I ordered an iced coffee, and promptly left most of it in the washroom.  Not long after, I left the rest in the airport washroom.

I think it is safe to say I left my mark on Maun.  Not only did I leave an organizational development plan for their council of NGOs, but I also left a little piece of myself everywhere I went!

(Post-Script:  I did see a doctor once I returned to Gaborone, and we were able to rule out more exotic illnesses to come up with the medical diagnosis of "tummy bug" and too much heat. I fully recovered after a couple of days of rest and rehydration.)

Stranded in the Desert

September 27, 2012, somewhere in the Kalahari Desert, outside Maun.

7:30 am:  Our tour group leaves Maun for the 7 hour drive to the Khama Rhino Sanctuary.  Our little group consists of: our South African tour leader / driver, who goes by the letter "G";  a retired couple from Australia; a dentist and his 8-year old daughter from Australia; a friendly young guy from New Zealand; my friend Lorraine, who is visiting from Edmonton; and myself.  We have just spent 4 days in the Okavango Delta,  and 2 days in Kasane.  We are on our way for one final game drive in Botswana before concluding our tour in Johannesburg.

8:30 am:  We pass through a veterinarian check point.  These are common in Botswana. Vehicles and people cross though tire and shoe baths of poison in an effort to prevent the spread of hoof and mouth disease. Shortly after the van drives through the bath, we notice we have a flat tire.  G jacks up the van, removes the offending tire, and gets the spare. The spare is flat.

9:00 am:  G gets through to the tour agency, who arranges for a mechanic from Maun to come for him and the tire so it can be repaired in town. This shouldn't take more than an hour (we think), so we pull out camp chairs from the trailer and begin to entertain ourselves.

9:30 am:  Lorraine has already taught 8-year old Tia how to play a game with a folded piece of paper that is used to count off numbers and colours to reveal truth or dare questions and commands (you remember the game, right ?).  She also sourced a piece of string and taught a local lady waiting for her vehicle to pass inspection to play Cats Cradle.  I am watching the goings-on from inside the shaded van, where I have carefully positioned myself with my book.

10:00 am: 8-year old Tia, already bored with the folded paper game, comes bounding into van.  Her dad is quick to scold her.  She leaves with him, pointing quizzically at me.  This prompts Dad to come back into the van to scold me for setting a bad example by sitting in a precariously balanced van.  He's right, of course, but I don't like being scolded.  Like the mature grown-up I am, I leave my shaded refuge and move a camp chair to the other side of the van, where I sulk with my book. 

10:30 am:  As the shade, my last few pages, and my mood shift, I take my chair to join the rest of the gang under the sole tree.  A woman runs from across the road, asking if we have a first aid kit.  A man has been attacked by a donkey !  Lorraine dons the latex gloves, crosses the road, and cleans and treats the bite wounds.  We help the man into the passenger seat of a passing truck that serves as a make-shift ambulance.

11:00 am:  It is now close to 40 degrees Celsius. We compete for shrinking tree shade with three ladies selling cold drinks and snacks.

11:30 am:  G's ride finally arrives !  Why did it take 3 hours for the driver to come ?  It seems the mechanic's shop has only one vehicle.  It was being used at a mine site about 2 hours the other side of Maun.

3:00 pm.  G and the mechanic return from Maun and carefully replace the repaired tire.  We wolf down the (now cool and warm, respectively) burgers and drinks G has brought back from Maun as peace offerings before continuing the remaining 6+ hours of our journey.

Lessons learned ?

• If you have to be stranded in the desert in the 40 degree heat, make sure it happens next to a road-side stall selling cold drinks and snacks.
• Also, it helps to have portable chairs, a sun-hat, and a good book.
• If you want to be entertained and/or medically treated, make sure you are stranded with someone like Lorraine (and not me).

G, our van, and the offending tires

That is Lorraine, in the green shirt. Why is she so happy ?  It's 40 degrees and we are stranded in the desert !

Our tree, our gang, and the snack and drink ladies.

Lorraine in action. 

Maun Weekend

Maun is a town that serves as the gateway to the Okavango Delta.  Some have compared Maun to a dusty Wild West frontier town.  Those who make a life there will tell you that a lot more goes on beneath the surface than it's sleepy exterior belies.  Maun is a town that is growing.  A few days before I arrived (May 18-20), the first traffic light was installed.  This photo is of the Maun International Airport -- complete with livestock grills to keep the donkeys, goats, and cattle off the runway.

It's my horse

It's now or never

I ain't gonna ride forever

I just want to ride while I'm alive...

I took a horseback safari just outside Maun.  On the back of Bon Jovi, I road alongside dancing giraffes, regal kudus, bouncing springbok, and prancing ostriches.  The zebra was the only animal that seemed to mind the presence of the horses -- too close a relative, perhaps?

My guide stopped to show me a nest of ostrich eggs.  There is a picture of me on the horse holding two strategically placed eggs, with giraffes in the background.  Sorry  -- but it is far too goofy / incriminating to post. You will just have to imagine the scene.

I am far from an experienced rider, but I did my best to steer Bon Jovi from thorn tree branches and aardvark holes.

The next day, my friend / colleague Gulner joined me from Gaborone for a mokoro camping trip into the Delta.  Each year, the finger-like channels of the Delta expand as the waters from Angola come to flood the Kalahari sands, giving life to reeds, lilies, and vegetation on which a variety of wildlife feast.  We traveled by mokoro - a dug-out canoe, poled by the local villagers. The guides bent down to scoop up handfuls of the clear, fresh water to drink.  Gulner and I were not so daring.  Other tourists swam in the deeper parts of the channels.  Again, we were not as daring -- Crocs and hippos live in these waters !

 

As our guides were setting up camp, Gulner and I went for a walk.  We found this lone bull elephant, grazing on grasses, just 100 metres or so from our campsite.  We were warned not to leave our tent at night.  While we weren't too concerned about a midnight visit from this gentle beast, the grunts of nearby hippos over-ruled the call of nature. 

We took one more mokoro ride to watch the setting sun.  As we glided along, we were serenaded by birds and bell frogs.  Later that night, our guides regaled us with local folklore tales while we listened to the call and response singing of polers from nearby camps.

The following morning, we went to a nearby island for a walking tour in the tracks of hippos and elephants.  We saw zebras, wildebeest, countless birds, and another lone elephant. 

Easter in Kasane - Part I: Michiko's Story

Kasane is in the North-eastern corner of Botswana, where Botswana meets Namibia, Zambia, and Zimbabwe (BoNaZaZi) at the confluence of the Chobe and Zambezi rivers that form the borders.

Flying into Maun.

I flew to Kasane via Maun, to which I will return someday, as it is the gateway to the Okavango Delta. The airport in Maun is right in the town centre. I had a few moments to spare between flights, so walked across the street to browse in a gallery / gift shop and peruse the coffee shop menu. I didn’t feel like ordering anything, so I went back to the airport to wait in the departure lounge. It was there that I met Michiko.

Michiko's Story

Michiko is one of those shining lights that flits about the universe, brightening the lives of those she encounters.

Michiko is from Ushiku, Japan. Ushiki is the sister city to Whitehorse, Yukon, Canada. Michiko has been to Whitehorse. She even visited Edmonton en route to Whitehorse. Michiko has been nearly everywhere. Botswana is the 89th country she has visited. Zimbabwe will be country #90; Zambia, #91; Mozambique, #92; and Swaziland, #93. She came to Botswana via Namibia and South Africa. She couldn’t find a bus from the last town she visited in Namibia to Maun, so she hitchhiked. Fortunately, she was picked up by a friendly woman driver, who let her stay at her house in Ganzi.

Michiko is a teacher, journalist, and artist. While waiting for our flight to Kasane, she showed me her sketchbook of beautiful water-colour paintings of the places she has visited.

She indicated she had trouble finding decent accommodations in Kasane on short notice over Easter weekend, and was worried about catching malaria at the only place she could find, a campsite by the river. I invited her to stay with me, at the place I had booked. I’m glad I did – she was good company. She stayed for 2 days, then headed off to Zimbabwe to paint Victoria Falls under the light of the full moon.

Michiko is a 62 year-old divorced mother of 3 and grandmother of 2.