The Final Stretch

The last week of our Southern Africa tour was spent in Botswana and the return to big old Johannasburg. We got a bit inspired when we met the hyper-Belgian-wildlife biologist Jean-Marc who was studying the African Wild Dog. He gave us a contact to a guy named JOhn McNutt, who is top in the field as far as the wild dogs go. SO we decided to make one more story since we had the camera and the inspiration. WE met him at his offices in Maun, in northern Botswana. We had a nice interview, and chats with him, and he arranged for a very special private safari for us to get up and close to a Wild Dog den... the problem was that it was in the Tuli Game reserve all the way in Eastern Botswana. So we fired up the Bakkie and went for the cause. It paid off, as we got right next to the den when all the pups were out frolicing, and then we witnessed them nursing as well as other adult dogs vomitting up piece of meat to help feed the young. We got some EXCELLENT footage! The final border crossing was a drive across the pretty deep Limpopo river. WE figured if we crossed it, it would save a 4 hour drive to the next border post. Well, we made it, but the new apple laptop under the seat did not! Like an idiot, I left it under my seat as the water came in through the door! We did, take it apart and dried it all up. I am hoping it is just the battery that got cooked, because it did stqrt up after we had Tajik, a Pakistani computer nut take it apart and dry it. I'm keeping my fingers crossed! So we battled a few more frigid nights in South Africa, and returned to where we left from over two monthes ago. It was so sad to sell the little Nissan 1400... hands down the best little truck ever manufactured. It went to good hands though: my friend Edward from Lesotho flew up and bought it. I got my money back, and he got a great little truck! Trip number totals:

11,600 kilometers driven
8 countries visited
9 containers of feta cheese consumed
200 average number of grams of chocolate per day
162 US Dollars spent on traffic tickets and corrupt cops
2 Full moons
10,000,000,000 The largest bill printed in former Zimbabwe dollars
3 mobile phones purchased on the trip
2 number of lost phones on th trip

Thanks so much to all of ny new friend I met along the way. Can't wait to see you all again! Special thanks to Marrianne who made it a really fun adventure...it ain't easy having a 24-hour side kick! See her blog www.RomeOaround.blogspot.com for the grand total in our 2009 African Continental Gin Rummy Championship....I was to frustrated to publish the results......

Zambia Zombia

Many more border crossings…The latest was Zambia, and the most expensive. Once again quite a contrast to the modern Zimbabwe.  We enterd the country at the Siabonga border which is on the enormous lake Kariba, the world’s 4^th largest manmade lake. We wanted to get a few shots for the project we are working on, as it is the Zambezi River that feeds it, and it and the Cahora Bossa dam in Mozambiue are responsible for many of the environmental changes down river. It has been really neat to  start at the delta of the river, and work our way up river many hundred of kilometers. The Zambians are excellent weavers, and the baskets, mats, and such are quite beautiful. They even weave some of there homes, and the effect is beautiful. Some of the mudhuts are elevated on stilts, which we have not seen before. This is apparently for space below to work on grinding and storing the maize. The maize is turned into maize meal or “Pup”, which most of Africa lives on….corn meal. It is pretty good if you add some veggies and sauce or milk and sugar. We spent a few nights in Livingstone which is next to the mighty Victoria Falls. The falls were amazing, and so enormous, that they stretched further than the eye can see. This is partly due to all of the mist. Just as fast and hard as the water falls, the mist pushes back up and gives it the feeling that it is raining upwards! You get drenched just walking around the paths near the falls. This makes for a little rainforest micro-climate surrounding the falls complete with vines and palm trees. It wasn’t but 15minutes after wondering if any of the locals walk around the falls ( a slip would be disastrous ), when we spotted a man fishing with a little hand net just  ten meters from the precipice. I hope those little grape-sized fish were worth it! The town of Livingstone is well trodden with tourists: bungy jumping, river rafting, helicopter rides, horseback riding. I opted for the cheaper activities of reading and playing guitar…at least free for the time being! The currency in Zambia is the kwacha (about $5,000 k to $1.00 USD), and they no longer use coins. Inflation was running rampant, but they seem to keep it is check better that Zimbabwe once did. Onward to the Caprivi Strip in Namibia. Note to whomever is reading this…interent is hard to find, and the upload speeds are horrific, therefore many of these blogs get posted when they can! Some new photos and videos will be added to past blogs....

Zimbabwe

The contrast between Zimbabwe and Mozambique is night and day. So strange how there is an invisible line on the ground and one side of it is one country with one language and culture, and the other side has another. Zimbabwe has one of the most together infrastructure in the world…the Switzerland of Africa! The buildings are nicely designed, and there are no more straw , stick, or mud huts….at least in the city, as Mugabe forbids this type of building. The people are well dressed: men in suits, and ladies in modern dress. This is of course what people are left in Zimbabwe. Millions have immigrated to neighboring South Africa, Great Britain, or the States as the economy had virtually collapsed here last year. The streets now look like a dried up Midwestern town post great economic times. They have officially adopted the US dollar as there currency in January, and things are starting to improve. However, there is paper dollars here, but no quarters, dimes, etc., so change is given in bubble gum and lollipops…no joke! We spent 4 nights in Harare, at a beautiful old guest house in a area called Eastlai. It was one of many large and beautiful homes built in the 30’sand 40’s here. They are complete with old swimming pools, residual British Gardens, clay tennis courts, the works! Since tourism has vanished from this incredible country (scratching my head why???), we were able to agree on $20.00 a night for our own cabin on the property, and far the nicest we have stayed in so far. It even included Patty, a friendly 11-year old Jack Russel. We went out to ZMC which was and still is Zimbabwe’s largest music recording studio, distribuation, and record label. I wanted to inquire about some old LP’s of musicians that I have researched through the years. So the next thing you know we are in a conference room with six men and a woman dressed in business suits. We talked about everything from music  to politics, and the future of Zimbabwe. I must say that the Zimbas are the most polite, cordial, and intelligent people I have ever come across. They got such a  laugh when I told them that the first time I met my friend Never (a musician/friend of mine whom lives in Harare) and he held my hand when we walked, I thought he was gay ! Many men and boys hold hands here when they walk, as it is a gesture of friendship. We talked about the strange media which has projected this country as a dangerous place: I was half expecting thieves, thugs, and armed robberies. In the streets of Harare, you could walk around with your wallet on a leash, and no one would take it. Silvano, one of the men took me to the archives ,and gave me a small stack of LP’s but the asked that I stop by in the morning, as he said he had some at home he would bring. The next morning there was a huge stack of great old Zimbabwean LP’s recorded right there in their studio. He was an old DJ from the 80’s in Ziimbabwe, and had extra copies of a lot of stuff! He asked for nothing in return, so I made a generous donation to his church. He was a part-time pastor and was more concerned with helping others and his country than himself. There is no begging, and no street children like you would find in other parts of Africa.  No one would dare begin a conversation without first asking how you are with a enormous smile. This is all owed to the country’s quality education system based on Britain’s. And if something is broke, it gets fixed right away. Zimbabwe still has its problems though: corruption, lowest average life expectancy for women (thanks to AIDS), and orphanages packed with parentless children. The biggest thrill for me was visiting the Pakeyre Paye Art Center in the outskirts of Harare. In fact, this was one of the desires that initiated this trip to Africa. I have been avidly following the music of Zimbabwe’s most well known musician Oliver Mtukudzi for many years now. I have befriended the bass player in his band, Never Mpofu after first having my jaw drop at one of their shows years ago in Seattle. Never had mentioned that Oliver was constructing an art center for young musicians, artists, dancers, poets, etc. in Norton. We paid the center a visit, and happened to catch Oliver there that day. We spent sometime under the sun talking about life, the arts, and playing a few songs. (Barry- if you are reading this- he really liked our new “The song with no name”). In the states, someone who becomes successful and “famous” becomes unapproachable, often understandable because people like to fictionalize that person into someone who is beyond normal human functions. They become a celebrity…and everyone wants to befriend them. Here things are a bit different.. It is so refreshing to see Oliver talking with children, and providing a free space for them to create in. As he said, “I am not here to teach them. This is not a school. I can learn from them, they can learn form me.”. No one pays to visit the art center. It is a refuge for those of us tied up in the hectic and confusing system that sidetracks us from creating. There is a stage and a lawn where they host free concerts on the weekends... there were teenagers practicing there dance moves on the lawn…and Oliver was talking with a welder who was building the new lighting structures around the tiki bar. Oliver’s son, Sam came over and played a few songs too. He is a very talented guitarist and songwriter, and has his father’s humble demeanor. He needed some photos for a new recording, so he came over the next night with a few friends who work with him and hired Marianne to shoot some photos. We made a nice dinner, and bid our new friends farewell. 

Marremeu

We are now in a little village called Marromeu near the delta of the Zambezi River. We have been working on the documentary project, and collecting some video and interviews of folks who work with conservation projects. The road from the principal highway was rough…..real rough. I was absolutely amazed that the little Nissan pulled through, as we passed huge 4x4 trucks stuck in the soup-ish mud, and HUGE potholes. Usually, the rain stops by May.  This year, they have had CONSTANT rain. In fact,  we have not really had a rain free day since leaving Maputo.  On the drive down here, we met a South African guy at the bank, whom runs a hunting concession in one of the adjacent hunting reserves. He gave us the directions to a Portuguese man’s home down near where we were heading. Although the man was not at home when we arrived, a very excitable Belgian wildlife biologist was there. His name was Jean Marc Andre, and he was living in this remote outpost studying the African Wild Dog. The dogs are nearly extinct from this area, but he managed to find one pack in the surrounding forest. We stayed with him there two nights, and the three of us ate by candle light, and had to fetch water from the nearby Zambezi river as there is no running water there as well.  We were very careful not to get eaten by the river crocodiles while fetching the water! It is a common occurrence because most of the local people still bath and do laundry down next to the river. We went out trying to track the dogs with him early one morning using a recorded dog cry that the wild dogs will react to, and come to investigate…we had no success that morning, but I did take a nice nap in the quiet jungle! On the drive back home we saw a green mamba cross the road in front of the truck! They are one of the most venomous snakes in the world, and unless you take the anti-venon immediately (if not sooner) you have vey little chance of surviving. However, reports of their bites are so rare, and as with almost every living thing these days….they are far more scared of humans. We met some new friends here, whom are from Zimbabwe, and have been staying with them. Three of them are sister and brother and the other two are also sisters, and they all live together in a pretty run-down, but welcoming apartment. We have been making these great meals together, and roll out a straw mat on the floor and eat delicious food. Despite all of the rain, there have not been too many mosquitoes. This is REALLY nice. We took a few river-boat trips by dug-out canoe along the Zambezi River, to get some footage for the project. It is so beautiful, with the abundance of migratory birds, crocodiles, monkeys, and naked people bathing on the shores

Oh the roads....

 

The principal highway in Mozambique runs from Ponta De Oro in the South of the country all the way to the northern border with Tanzania. It is two lanes, and calling it a highway seems a bit comical at times. There are pot holes that look like dinosaur footprints in the middle of them, and it looks as if no one is ready to fix them either. Some parts are actually quite nice, and even have those little reflectors stuck in the cement. The speed limit averages about 80 km/h, so it is a far cry from the U.S.’s fast pace…but why should you drive fast? There is so much to see that we have been joking around that it is some type of pre-cursor to television. First, I must say that the Mozambicans are so artistic, and their road side vending is wonderfully arranged: bags of cashews tied to different branches in a tree, one pineapple balancing on a tree stump, stuffed mannequins (of old tattered clothes) holding coconuts, or jugs of gasoline in old water bottles. The children lay in the road or on the shoulder, and love to stare at us when we drive by or wave and smile with the most natural ease. Since there is no T.V., radio, internet, books, games, toys, etc. in their stick, mud and reed huts, the car and people gazing along the shoulder of the National Highway is wonderful form of stimulation, as dangerous as it can be. We have already seen one dead child’s body, and the remorse on the faces of a South African couple. Hard to blame them though as both children and adults will cross without even looking. The women all wear sarongs and are generally carrying something on their head: sticks for building, firewood, sugar cane, bread, water jugs, and fruit.  I even saw a woman carrying a basket with a little boy asleep in it today on her head! Many of the men have bicycles and it is just lovely to see them riding around with their lady sitting sideways on the back rack, and/or a child on the bar below the handlebars…sometimes in a jacket and tie and a lady in a dress. Then off they go to their simple thatched grass hut with no electricity or running water. There are very long stretches of road with no towns at all, which for us means none of that devil’s spit…gasoline. Therefore the rule here is “buy it when ever you can, because you never know when you’ll get it again”. After leaving Maputo, we headed to a place called Quissico, where our friend Niels is building an eco-lodge nestled in the dunes between a number of lagoons and the Indian Ocean. We explored the beautiful scenery around the area, and cooked some great dinners with some more new friends. We will certainly see him again. We spent a few more nights camping along the way, and today arrived here in Quelimane close to the Zambezi River Delta. It is a decent sized city, you would not believe to potholes all through the city.  Not much options on accommodations, but we managed to get a room with a bed that resembles a skateboard half-pipe and a grizzly shared bathroom that smells like the primate exhibit at the zoo. The hair on the pillow was no additional charge! Earlier while I was cooking curry on the camping stove on the floor of the room, heard singing from the minaret. Mozambique has about 35% Muslim (via the Indian Ocean Arabic traders),  35% Catholic (Portuguese), and the rest is still basic animistic beliefs, although these new Evangelical churches seem to be sprouting up all over. Everybody gets along fine. So cool to see a blend of these architectural styles too! We went to a Catholic mass on Sunday morning, as we wanted to see inside of the old 18^th century Portuguese cathedral that is virtually abandoned with trees and growing out of it, broken windows, and cracked walls. They still have a service in one little room that they have made nice on Sunday mornings, but it was canceled that day. We had to go to the new cement block cathedral instead. Much of it was the same as I remembered when enduring those infinitely long masses, but funny to see how they had a drummer backing the singing on all of the Psalms. It was really tough to understand the Portuguese when the words bounced around inside of that hollow cathedral. The people in the north of Mozambique seem to have a rougher life then down south. There are a lot of missing limbs, body deformities, blindness (there eyes just become white over the pupils), and barefoot people walking through stagnant puddles.  Today we even walked past a British leprosy organization. But the smiles are still abundant and manifest so naturally. Still eating way more of the delicious fire baked Mozambique bread…jg