I'm Back...

I am back in Edmonton...and also back to my blog.  My friends in Botswana encouraged me to continue with my postings, to show what life is like here, in Canada.  It is a good opportunity for me to look at the familiar with new eyes.  I am still getting re-settled, so haven't quite got my act together enough to start sharing stories and pictures...but I will soon !  I left Botswana Feb. 12, after a series of sweet good-byes (which I will write about another time) and returned to Edmonton on Feb. 13, after a safe and uneventful journey.  I then reported back to my job on Feb. 15.  I am adjusting to the streamlined work environment and life at home, which for the moment is my old, childhood home.  I am bunking in with my father until my tenant moves out of  my house at the end of this month.  So, once I get properly resettled, I will resume writing about the continuing adventure....

Marula Season

It is marula season.  They are ripening and falling off the trees in droves.  I was almost hit on the head on my morning walk to work today.  I have to step gingerly around then, to avoid slipping.  Occasionally, I will pick one up, break the skin, and suck the sweet/tart juicy pulp.  I don't see many people doing this, and am surprised that they are not scooped up and harvested.  The marula fruit is a great source of Vitamin C.  Each tiny fruit contains five times the amount of Vitamin C of a single orange!  They are also high in fibre, and can be dried, fermented, or cooked for jams or jellies.

One of our WUSC/Uniterra volunteers is working with a women's cooperative in Palapye to produce and market marula products  The folks in Gaborone, however, seem content to let them rot on the ground.  Maybe if I was here longer, I would learn from my friend in Palapye how to dry them or turn them into jam.

When I arrived here over a year ago, it was at the tail end of marula season -- and mango season.  I didn't know much about marula fruit then, but I knew I loved mangos, and I had the bright idea of making and canning mango chutney and salsa. However, by the time the idea occured to me, mangos were no longer in season. 

Again, if I were to stay longer, I would jump on the mango wagon and make some products to enjoy for future times.  I would also eat more watermelons when they are in season in April.  I love watermelons. Did you know that watermelons originate in the Kalahari Desert ? -- Botswana's sweet, juicy gift to the world !

I have learned that these wonderful treats come and go, and, like most of life's opportunities, you have to make the best use of them when they present themselves to you.  How many of life's opportunities do we let pass us by because we do not recognize how precious and fleeting they are or are not prepared to reap them when they are ripe ?

 

It takes a good year or more of living in a place to get a feel for the rhythm of the seasons. I feel I am just getting into the groove, so to say --- but now I have to get ready to adjust to an old, familiar beat, back in Edmonton.

I leave in just over a week....can you believe it ?  

Let's hope I remember to take the best advantage of Edmonton's seasonal offerings and any opportunites that come my way. 

 

The Power of Soccer

There was 5 minutes left in the movie I was watching when the power went out at Riverwalk Mall.  The power went out just before 7:30 pm -- which is not so coincidentally when the latest Africa Cup of Nations game was about to start.

You see, Botswana has been hit by a series of power outages, following faults in the system and a delay in completing the country’s new 600 megawatt power station.  Until the new power station is complete, Botswana will continue to rely on power from it's neighbor, South Africa.

I have been learning to adapt to these power outages.  The other night, I hosted a dinner party entirely without power. Instead of calling it off, I used candles for light, my friend's i-pod for music, and the gas oven to bake our "build-your-own" pizzas.  It worked !  We had a fun power-free evening.

Last Friday, when temperatures soared close to 40 degrees Celsius, my office-mates plugged away in the heat, without air-conditioning, and long after the batteries on their laptops had died, until quitting time.  My colleagues are very ethical (I love them for that!) and no one wanted to set a bad example by leaving early.

Our power outages are happening more frequently these days.  This is because South Africa is also experiencing its own power shortages and has to ration the available amount.

It so happens that South Africa is also at this time hosting the Africa Cup of Nations soccer tournament.  When it is time for games to broadcast, the South African powers-that-be make sure they will air in their key markets.  Botswana is not a contender in the Cup this year, so they must suppose that no one here wants to watch the games and can do without power for a while.  So, just before a game was set to broadcast at 7:30 pm this evening, Gaborone experienced a blackout in the area around Riverwalk Mall.

On the dimly lit taxi drive home, I started thinking....if a soccer game can be the cause for a power outage, could it not also be the solution ?

When I was in Kenya last August, I learned about an ingenious invention called Soccket that harnesses kinetic energy generated from a soccer ball to power electrical appliances. Surely, the African Cup of Nations game balls could be so equipped to keep a movie projector running.  

I will have to see if the powers-that-be can agree to that proposal....in the meantime, is there anyone out there who can tell me what happens in the final 5 minutes of the movie Argo ?

Magical Madikwe

Last weekend, I had a magical time in Madikwe, a game reserve just across the border in South Africa.  It is so close -- less than an hour and a half drive away, including time for the border crossing. I can't believe I had never been before !  

I accompanied Amanda, a WUSC Leave for Change volunteer wanting to have the safari experience, and we were joined by my friends John, Naki, and Tomek on Sunday. 

I found accommodations for Amanda and I at Motswiri Lodge, a 5-star luxury lodge, and we were not disappointed.  It is low season, now that the holiday rush has abated, and we had the whole lodge to ourselves ! We were thoroughly spoiled -- gourmet meals, game drives -- we didn't have to lift a finger.  And it didn't hurt that they charged us less than half the normal rate !

Can you blame me for planning to go back again this weekend ?  Yes, I am heading back tomorrow with Anaisa, my Portuguese house-mate. I have only 3 weekends left here, and I am thrilled to be able to spend another one in the bush.

Here is a taste of what we did and saw:

Amanda and John, in the Motswiri Lodge lounge.

Naki and Tomek.

The gang, at Jaci's Safari Lodge for lunch.

Amanda and I with our guide Andre.

Roughing it in the bush.

Our gorgeous room, with fireplace, spa tub, and outdoor shower over-looking the water hole.

Amanda's first safari experience !



Yup - We got this close !



Flat tire from following lions over the stony terrain.

Can't forget the little guys !

Hyena with remnants of wildebeest.



Rhino.

The kudu is my favourite antelope.  I love the curly horns!

Lunch time!

Wildebeest.

We followed this black maned lion for quite a while.   

He was looking for his pride, and would call out for them every now and then.

Eventually, he gave up and flopped down under a tree.

Have you got my best side ?

Chin rest.

Mom and babe.

This pride of two lionesses and nine cubs was feasting on a zebra.

On going away

"When in the end, the day came on which I was going away, I learned the strange learning that things can happen which we ourselves cannot possibly imagine, either beforehand, or at the time when they are taking place, or afterwards when we look back on them." 
 – Karen Blixen, Out of Africa, 1937

 -- Once I have returned home, and settled back into a familiar routine, will I look back on this past year, and wonder if it was all a dream ? --

Fish Food

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.

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.)