It's no secret that I am a fan of spas. Being pampered every now and then makes me feel good. Call me crazy! Last week, when I was recovering from my mystery Maun malady, I booked myself a spa appointment immediately following my visit to the doctor's office. The doctor prescribed water and rest; I prescribed a back massage and pedicure.
My transition to life back home is going to be a little tough, as I will be leaving a job, a life and people I have grown to love. My friends intuitively recognize this, so a couple asked what they could do to help me settle back in. My answer: "Two words -- Spa Day". So, I have a spa day with friends to look forward to when I return. That will lift my spirits, I am certain.
Last November, when I was visiting with my Czech friends in Cape Town, we had to come up with a rainy day alternative to the outdoor plans we had made. Alice and I decided we would book ourselves into a spa for pedicures. Standa, the ever patient and obliging husband, resolved to hang out in a coffee shop and wait for us. The spa Alice and I found specialized in Fish Therapy.
I haven't blogged about this sooner, because I knew I would get a scolding from my public health friends back home. I am fully aware that Fish Spas have been closed in parts of Canada and the USA due to public health concerns. Please be assured that I did ask about their water filtration system and made sure I had no open wounds that would spread or receive infections.
That being said, I was still a little uneasy about dipping my feet into a fish tank. I couldn't look down. I felt little electric shocks all over my feet and calves. Soon, I got used the the tingly sensation, but I still couldn't look.
Alice, who had been chatting with Standa about which coffee shop he would go to, took one look at the activity around my feet and told the clinician, "I am cancelling my appointment. I will join my husband for coffee and come back for my friend in 30 minutes." That is exactly what she did -- but not before snapping this photo.
The fish did their job of sloughing off the dead skin before the clinician went to work on my nails.
As I was leaving, the spa offered me a frequent customer card. I politely declined.
Monday, 21 January 2013
Wednesday, 16 January 2013
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.
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 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.)
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.
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?”.
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.
(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.)
Monday, 14 January 2013
I am WOMAN
On November 30th, I represented BOCAIP at the 50th Anniversary of a well-known international women's organization in Botswana. The anniversary date happened to fall within the 16 Days of Action Against Gender-Based Violence. The event organizers and keynote speakers were careful to note the links between gender-based violence, women's development, and the spread of HIV -- topics I could expand on, but will reserve for discussions with those willing to so engage.
So, I was a little surprised, in this enlightened environment, to see some text in the inside of the event folder that seemed a little...shall I say...out of step with the times.
The word WOMAN was written out as an acronym.
W - Wise
O - Ornament
M - Multiskilled
A - Advisor
N - Noble
"Ornament" ? Really ? Need I say more ??
I am not even sure how the word "Advisor" is meant, in this context.
Advisors to whom ? -- Decision-makers who are not women ?
I've struggled with blogging about this sooner, as I don't want to come across as judgemental or culturally insensitive -- afterall, women continue to be objectified as 'ornaments' in our Western society -- but I like to think that my Batswana friends are pretty progressive, and I welcome insights from those who wish to comment.
And, I welcome suggestions for an alternative "O".
So, I was a little surprised, in this enlightened environment, to see some text in the inside of the event folder that seemed a little...shall I say...out of step with the times.
The word WOMAN was written out as an acronym.
W - Wise
O - Ornament
M - Multiskilled
A - Advisor
N - Noble
"Ornament" ? Really ? Need I say more ??
I am not even sure how the word "Advisor" is meant, in this context.
Advisors to whom ? -- Decision-makers who are not women ?
I've struggled with blogging about this sooner, as I don't want to come across as judgemental or culturally insensitive -- afterall, women continue to be objectified as 'ornaments' in our Western society -- but I like to think that my Batswana friends are pretty progressive, and I welcome insights from those who wish to comment.
And, I welcome suggestions for an alternative "O".
Monday, 7 January 2013
Christmas Road Trip - St. Lucia Wetlands
Our journey neared its end at St. Lucia, a small town nestled between the St. Lucia wetlands and the sandy shores of the Indian Ocean. I spent the afternoon at the beach and then enjoyed an evening boat ride in the estuary, watching hippos, crocs, and bird life until the sun set.
From there, it was on to hot and humid Durban, where I enjoyed a city break, hanging out at the UShaka Marine Park, the local beach, and the air conditioned mall.
All in all, it was an enjoyable Christmas break, with a good mix of scenery, wildlife, and cultural offerings, spent in the company of a kind, retired couple from New Zealand and our South African guide/driver.
From there, it was on to hot and humid Durban, where I enjoyed a city break, hanging out at the UShaka Marine Park, the local beach, and the air conditioned mall.
All in all, it was an enjoyable Christmas break, with a good mix of scenery, wildlife, and cultural offerings, spent in the company of a kind, retired couple from New Zealand and our South African guide/driver.
| Mother and child, assessing the waves. |
| A quieter stretch of beach. |
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| Hippos galore ! |
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| Yet another glorious African sunset. |
Sunday, 6 January 2013
Christmas Road Trip - Zulu Village
Our visit to a Zulu village included a session with the local sangoma (traditional healer). The one we visited is a diviner, who gets her messages from the ancestors. She put on quite a show, lighting incense to invoke the ancestors, who then rested on her shoulders as she knelt on the floor. She never revealed her face to us the whole time we were with her. The hut was adorned with animal skins and various animal parts and feathers were stuck on the walls. I am not sure why - perhaps she reads the patterns as they are flung and adhere to the walls ? Through the guide, she told us about some of the more common remedies for various afflictions. Most were herbal or mineral concoctions, but some used dried and powdered animal parts, bones, and blood. She read my future (no animal parts required), and told me that my ancestors are looking out for me (always reassuring) -- oh, and that I think too much !
From there, we made a few friends walking through the village to the cultural centre where we were given Zulu warrior fighting and dancing demonstrations.
From there, we made a few friends walking through the village to the cultural centre where we were given Zulu warrior fighting and dancing demonstrations.
Saturday, 5 January 2013
Christmas Road Trip - Hluhluwe Game Reserve
We continued our journey to the coast via Hluhluwe Game Reserve, the oldest game reserve in Africa. Fortunately, its resident rhino population is under tight surveillance and the reserve is known for its conservation efforts. Rhino poaching is still a big problem in South Africa. Hluhluwe is lush and green with rolling hills -- a refreshing change from the dry, desert environment I have become accustomed to in Botswana.


Friday, 4 January 2013
Christmas Road Trip - Swazi Village
On Christmas morning, we wrapped sarapes emblazoned with the King's face around our hips and made a short trek to a local village. In the village, we were greeted by the Chief, a grandmotherly woman who inherited the title from her late husband. Female Chiefs are not too common in patriarchal Swaziland. The Chief happens to be a member of the Swazi Royal Family, and is King Mswati III's aunt.
Swaziland is the last absolute monarchy in Africa. The Swazi King prides himself on upholding local traditions, including the practice of polygamy. He currently has 14 wives. He is also known for his lavish and opulant lifestyle, which is criticized by some as being maintained at the expense of addressing the many challenges that plague the citizens of Swaziland, who have the dubious distinction of living with the highest HIV prevalence rate -- and the lowest life expectancy -- in the world.
The Chief doesn't seem to benefit from the Royal Family's wealth, and instead, invites tourists to her homestead as a means of raising funds to provide for the 327 AIDS orphans under her charge. It was a pleasure to spend Christmas morning with her and the kids, as they took us through their daily routines and patiently taught us songs and dances.
Swaziland is the last absolute monarchy in Africa. The Swazi King prides himself on upholding local traditions, including the practice of polygamy. He currently has 14 wives. He is also known for his lavish and opulant lifestyle, which is criticized by some as being maintained at the expense of addressing the many challenges that plague the citizens of Swaziland, who have the dubious distinction of living with the highest HIV prevalence rate -- and the lowest life expectancy -- in the world.
The Chief doesn't seem to benefit from the Royal Family's wealth, and instead, invites tourists to her homestead as a means of raising funds to provide for the 327 AIDS orphans under her charge. It was a pleasure to spend Christmas morning with her and the kids, as they took us through their daily routines and patiently taught us songs and dances.
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| As you can see, I couldn't get enough of this little warrior. |
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| I am grinding cornmeal for the children's Christmas lunch. |
| The Chief. |
| Our guide, demonstrating Swazi attire. |
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