By Faerin Dick from the University of Vermont
Want to talk luxury latrines? Let’s take a quick trip to Round River’s Mopane Camp, where we get to sit, stargaze, listen to the hum of cicadas, the calls of songbirds, and the nearby sounds of campfire and conversation – all while taking a dump in the bush. Everything you could want – even a roll of toilet paper hung on the nearest mopane branch, a branch-swept walkway, and Chris’ hand-built gate. And while the latrine is great, I think the best part of Mopane Camp was the fact that it was just us and the bush. No distractions from technology or busy schedules of meetings and classes, but instead we spend time living simply, learning from all that surrounds us and enjoying each other’s company. We are fortunate to be so remote, sharing this space with only the wildlife brave enough to pass through this dry region.
Each morning, just as the sun rises, I hear sleeping bags rustle and tents get unzipped. While the air is still cool, we heat water over campfire coals still hot from the previous night’s fire. While prepping for the day we gobble up some breakfast and then head out into the surrounding areas for transects. We drive narrow roads, dense with mopane trees whose branches whack through the open windows sending dry leaves and the occasional acacia thorn whizzing by your face. While the Mopane Camp transects were a bit quieter than that of Khwai or Kaziikini, I think it forced us to really focus on what’s around us. We stop, pick out cloven hoofprints of Eland on the sandy road or tiny dots of scorpion tracks.
On our final transect in Mopane Camp, we were able to identify over 100 different species! Most by sight, but some by sound, track, or scat. It’s fascinating to scrutinize everything around us. As amazing as it is to see a herd of elephants cruise past us, we also get excited to see the little things. We hop out of the vehicle to look at the acacia branches we see- to learn the difference between the hooks and the thorns of umbrella-thorn, camelthorn and candle-pod acacias. We stop to look at ants on the side of the road and springhare’s scuff marks by couch grass. On our return journey Dix spots wild dog tracks on the road that we had previously driven showing us that we just missed the pack while we were out. After looking around we get a full picture of what they were doing and where they were going. It is amazing to look more closely at a place that from a glance is dense mopane woodland with almost no movement, and see the happenings of so many animals, birds, and plants.
After returning from transects we typically take cover in what little shade we can find and wait out the hottest part of the day resting, playing cards, and reading. As we all slowly come back to life after the afternoon heat subsides, we gather round and have class or a discussion. By 4 o’clock we are reenergized and ready for Spikeball, the game that has quickly come to define our stint in NG34. As the sun drops low in the sky and turns fiery red, the cook crew burns elephant dung to keep the bees away and preps dinner, getting creative with what we have. We even celebrated a birthday in true American fashion with a fire-baked cake and pudding. After dinner, we all sit around the fire, looking at stars, listening to the sounds of the bush and chatting with each other. We pick out constellations we know and don’t know, and even saw Andromeda through binoculars as a light smudge of a distant galaxy. We were lucky to have a barely present moon letting us enjoy the dark sky.
It all seems pretty simple, but somehow there’s always something in the bush that challenges us or surprises us. At Mopane Camp, sometimes it is the unforgiving heat or the nightly scorpion searches that leave me wondering what’s crawling on my leg as I Iay in my tent. And sometimes it’s just the ever-present dirt. Just when you think things are calm, you might find yourself, as some of us did, out in the dense mopane scrub trying to take a bush shower with a Nalgene full of water, when suddenly a swarm of honeybees have come full force to the little water here in this dry landscape to take a bit of that precious water that you had hoped would be just yours. Moments like these have let us into a world of little triumphs and great appreciations.
Partway through our stay at Mopane, we mixed up our daily routine and headed into the village of Sankoyo, where Dix and our escort guides are from. We’ve been to Sankoyo a handful of times now, so we’re getting to know some of the locals, and they are starting to know us, too. It was a standout day all in all, and difficult to describe well in a paragraph. We hosted a workshop for escort guides, Community Trust members and others from the community. We split up into three stations; one for learning how to use binoculars and going on a short birding venture. Another for learning Excel spreadsheets, and a third for navigating with a GPS and compass. Everyone was eager to learn and to teach. I was on the GPS and compass team and took people out on a small route around the nearby roads and paths, navigating to waypoints we’d already set. We laughed when we got off course and celebrated when we made it back to base. Then we sat, sharing a tasty meal of beef seswaa, chicken, pap and cabbage with the whole group. Spirits were high despite the heat as we practiced our Tswana, and everyone was patient as we mispronounced many words. Eagerly we shared the few phrases we know. We were repeating “thutlwa e nwa metsi” or “a e tonanyana kana e namagadi?”, and everyone was laughing because we were saying “the giraffe is drinking water” and “is it male or female?” as we sat in the shade of the yard of the Community Trust building.
We then hung out in Sankoyo for the afternoon playing pool with the guides and locals at Naledi’s Tuck shop and enjoying cold Cokes in the heat of the afternoon. In the evening we had a very special experience. The elders of the Bayei tribe put on a traditional dance for us. They sang, played drums, and danced as we eagerly watched. I think all of us got pulled in to dance at one point or another, and it was very neat to watch and be a part of. By the end of the evening, many of the children had made their way to where we were, many of whom we knew from when we visited the school. The group of elders shared other parts of their culture, too. We learned how to trap ungulates and birds with carefully hidden snares and visited a witch doctor.
Instead of asking how are you, our escort guides would ask, where are you? Are you here? Le teng? And in the bush, re teng. We are here. I think that phrase encapsulates our time at Mopane Camp. We are here, present in the moment, just us in the bush.