By Aden Ho of Bowdoin College
Following a ~5 hour full body percussive massage complete with dust, back-sweat, and Choppies fried chicken, we arrived at Tau Camp, Khwai Private Reserve, NG18, Ngamiland, Botswana. Given our only shade at the last concession was a hole-y, (formerly) blue, tarp — immediately, we were awe-struck by the shaded lounge area luxuriously fitted with a water cooler and television. After unloading our gear, I took my book and a sleeping pad up to Matshwane’s (Toyota Hillix) roof. Not even two pages later, lightning struck, thunder clapped, and rain droplets began to fall, capturing the orange hues of the sunset as if they were golden orbeez falling from the heavens.
I am by no means superstitious but the first proper rain since arriving in Africa did feel like a good omen, considering that on a typical day, merely sitting would provoke sweat. Though the rain only lasted less than an hour, the coolness persisted through the night, allowing an almost-sweat-free night of restorative sleep. I fell asleep itching (both figuratively, and literally due to insect bites) for the next few days and their accompanying adventures.
Two days later, Abby, Dix, Dom, Jodie, Lebo, Lindsey and I journeyed 3 hours NE to Skybeds in the northeastern-most corner of the concession. Each student would get to spend a night at the Skybeds during our 10 days in the concession and we were the lucky first group. We had been briefed that the beds overlooked a watering hole and that we’d see many animals, but I went with no expectations. Consequently, I was more than pleasantly surprised.
The oasis-esque scene presented a perfect opportunity to dial in my ability to sex animals, specifically Zebra and Giraffe. Shockingly, animals didn’t introduce themselves with their pronouns at each encounter. Thus, I was left to my budding observational skills to determine animals’ sex. To sex Giraffe we learned to look at the tips of their horns for hair, as well as the relative distance between them. Unfortunately, sexing Zebras is not as straightforward. To do so, one needs to have a clear visual of the Zebra’s butt. For the first couple weeks I found myself staring at Zebras, yearning for them to show their arse. Luckily, Dom shared a pro-tip for sexing Zebra: “Males wear G-strings and Females wear thongs.” From then on all I needed was a peep at the dark patch by their anus.
We spent much of the afternoon wide-eyed and mouths agape – cycling between taking photos, playing cards, reading (books & tarot), and dodging the sun. That evening, while we ate a gourmet canned dinner around a fire, under a sky speckled with stars like dandruff on a black shirt, Lebo asked if I knew any constellations. Besides the Southern Cross and Orion (both of which I learned during the last concession in Mababe), I told him I didn’t know any. Though shy about his knowledge at first, he eventually opened up and pointed out Taurus, Pleiades, and the Magellanic Cloud. The combination of constellations, clusters, and companionship warmed my heart, and for the N-teenth time made me glad to be in Botswana.
After a thought-provoking transect with Dix & Jodie the following day, we returned to Tau Camp. The rest of the week was renewing and restorative. Relaxing yet riveting with novel activities including slackline (shoutout Hope for her guidance and shoulder), origami with Gabe, and hacky sack with the two (a humbling experience). Novel too, has been learning Tswana. Though a language unlike any I’ve learned before, Batswanans have been incessantly encouraging; with thoughtful answers to my questions (ironic as my Setswana name is Karabo meaning “the answer”) and beaming smiles as I attempt to converse with them.
As I wrap up this post, I am reminded of a night at Tau around the Mopane campfire (see Tate’s blog!). Gabe’s gentle singing & strumming of Anabelle’s camp guitar, Orion observing from above, and Dix, Pabalelo, and Lebo’s laughter at an nondescript joke; smiles glowing in the flickering orange flames.
How precious it is to be a beginner. To have a blank slate waiting to be drawn on with peoples’ pencils: their wisdom, visions, ponderings.
Tikologo!