Full Bred

‘Not our dog’ Mussadi produced nine pure, full bred Tswana puppies. The five that survived the initial six weeks had their first big shock in life: a trip by car to the posh vet, who gave them their shots and other treatments. To make up for their suffering the vet also gave them a bowl with stock & meat – you’ve never seen puppies in shock come back to life so quickly!


Aisha, Moira and Nadia are exhausted during their first visit to their home to be, our yard. From now on they’ll have their breakfast and dinner with us. Their brothers Nelson and Desmond seem quite happy when we swap a plate of food for the three sisters.

Nata

Driving from Maun to Nata is always exiting. You might see a stray elephant at the side of the road, one that forgot it’s supposed to stay up north. We don’t encounter a stray elephant. We do encounter a herd, huge Matriarch and all, fabulous! Whether it is the abundance of water everywhere this year, or the growing overpopulation up north we don’t know, but we sure enjoy meeting them.


We are prepared for a difficult drive because the roads around Gweta, halfway to Nata, were flooded. By now the road is dry, but there’s loads of water left and right. Annette got excited when we saw many storks, preparing for migration, while driving up to Maun. Now Maud gets all excited, because we see real ducks. This is very promising for the pans in Nata Bird Sanctuary, where we are going to camp.


For people who live in the desert, this year the pans are even more breathtaking than last year. Even more water, even more real waves; it’s much more exciting to go swimming than to spot pelicans and flamingos.

Maun

Peter's seen a book about the 200 places you have to see before you die, and the Okavango Delta is one of them. We planned to drive up to Maun anyway, because it offers our guests loads of touristy things to do, while we hang out with Piet and Klaas & Toots.
Maun is a strange little town. Being the starting point for the delta, the famous game parks Chobe and Moremi, and the northern part of the Central Kalahari, it’s ruled by the tourist industry. Guides and other safari-people, very young pilots; they’re all over the place. We don’t know if there is a connection, but according to some Maun-people it’s also the place where human driftwood ends up.


Like last year, when we travelled with Joost & Cristina, we could stay in Pietje's house. A beautiful plot, just outside Maun, close to the river, and 7 dogs – what more do you want? Klaas & Toots around the corner, but that’s where they stay. Officially anyway, because work requires them to kind of live in Klaas’ restaurant, across from Maun International Airport.


Annette & Peter decided to fly into the delta and spend a night at Gunn’s Camp. It is summer here, not the best period to see animals because the grass is high and there’s water everywhere. But the delta is always stunning, and you’re sure to meet some game, at least hippos. Together with the crocodiles these innocent looking veggies are involved in most wildlife-human accidents because they’re very aggressive. Then again most accidents are caused by the stupidity of tourists who don’t do as the guide says, so who’s the aggressor?


Next to seeing friends, our Maun-visits always include Good Food. A dinner at Klaas’ Bon Arrivee (we’re now producing the new menu), Toots’ home-cooking, and Pietje’s fully fitted kitchen give us a nice break from ‘suffering in the bush’. During this visit, Toots finally managed to force Bram into a palatshe-cooking lesson. The funny thing about palatshe (maize pap), and bogobe (sorghum pap), is some people produce absolutely disgusting glue-like substances, while others cook something delicious. Bram now knows the basics of cooking it lekker.

Tropics of Capricorn

Another ‘must do’: pictures at the Tropics of Capricorn. The little bar where Maud had a guava juice to commemorate her first overland crossing almost twenty years ago is a ruin by now, so we party with coffee & snacks from the car-bar, after the obligatory posing around the plaque.

Sightseeing

De first two days with Peter & Annette we spend in & around Morwa, to show them all the tourist highlights. Botswana’s claim to fame is game, so it took some thinking to invent a couple of ‘must see’s, but in the end we thought up more than was doable.
A sure must is the visit to Mochudi museum, located on a rocky hill in the old village-centre. Thank the gods for tourists, because we always think we are too busy to go there just for us. We really needed to catch up with Hardy, the artist who’s running the museum’s workshop, and the rocks are the perfect spot for a picnic or sundowners.


A must for Peter is seeing Patrick van Rensburg (see Wikipedia). Patrick started the Botswana Brigades, where Peter & Bram were working some 30 years ago.
By chance we discovered two other highlights. Odi Weavers, one of the first development projects after Botswana became independent, started by Scandinavians, is still alive. We don’t know for how long, because the old women who keep the place going say the new generation isn’t interested in learning the skill. Which is a pity: the workshop is really worth the visit, and they make beautiful, internationally renowned tapestry. It’s all done by hand from scratch, the ladies even spin and dye the sheep wool themselves.


At Bokaa Dam we come across the Tourism Village. Here’s an intriguing project! There’s a bar, restaurant, nice shaded terrace, braai-area, and the beginnings of an attractive garden, all located next to the dam. But there’s no marketing whatsoever, so we, who stumbled upon it, are the first and only visitors since long.

Serowe

After two days of sightseeing in & around Morwa, we leave for the real trip down memory lane: Serowe. First stop: the red rocks, just before the village, where Peter and Bram spend many wild hours. Whatever Annette and Maud try, details are not unveiled...


In Serowe we find Peter’s house, Bram’s house, the brigade-buildings where Peter worked, the bottle-store, and more. We visit Patrick’s son Motushi who lives in Patrick’s old house, where Peter used to visit. We meet Zaba Watson, who helped Peter’s printers brigade sell cattle to get cash for equipment. We have a nice morning with the Serowe Printers Coop, where two of Peter’s trainees still work. Thanks to the strong euro, Peter can invite the whole coop for lunch in Tswaragano Cooperative Hotel – another old van Rensburg project, now managed by the Watson’s.


Peter brought a lot of old pictures for the ‘history of Serowe’ exhibition in the Khama Memorial Museum, run by Maud’s vegetarian brother Skobi (we’re probably the only two veggies in Botswana). Looking at the pictures brings up so many stories from Skobi, and some from Peter and Bram, that we get ideas for books. The hunt for sponsors is opened!


After each eventful Serowe-day we return to our beloved Rhino Sanctuary, where we camp. The game-drives are even more amazing than usual. Next to rhino, impala, kudu, wildebeest, gemsbok, zebra, giraffe, ostrich, and etcetera, we see two herds of eland. This biggest African antelope is extremely shy and very hard to spot, so this is really a miracle.
In the evening we loiter around the campfire and look at the stars. This being our home in Serowe we also have visitors: Motushi and family hop over for an afternoon game-drive and loitering at the campsite.


The Sanctuary is not only home, but also our office. During our morning meeting with the Chief Game Warden at our campsite we realize once again how incredible lucky we are. Compare this environment with an office in Haarlem Schalkwijk or Amsterdam Oost... The rhino’s want us to make this, and that, and more, so we’ll just have to come back in March to finalize designs.

Home Office

Just another working day


for the Sun Design management team / janitors / designers / gardeners / writers / drivers / whatever needs to be done

Farewell

Who’s Who – July 1979, February 2008

For our last evening with Peter and Annette, we were invited to a braai at Poal & Miriam Norkjaer’s house. Poal came to Botswana over 30 years ago, and also worked in Serowe when Peter, Andre, Bram, Miriam and Tears were there.
It was partly a Serowe old-timers get-together, with the four boys and Tears and Miriam, and partly a Danish do, with another Viking from Maun and his wife. Although Poal and Flemming are by now Botswana citizens, they can still kill their beers like real Scandinavians, and make a merry party.


We’ll throw in a description of a typical southern African weekend-do, so you Europeans know what we like:-)
The guests are expected three-ish, carrying their own cooler-boxes stuffed with drinks. The food will be served anywhere between four and midnight, depending on the quality of the firewood, the weather, and other known and unknown factors. Poal and Miriam have four of their five daughters still living in the house, so the usual collection of salads & pap was extra elaborate and delicious.


The rest is simple; you sit in the shade, chat, sip your drink, dish, dish again, chat, sip your drink, decide to go home, stay a bit longer, and etcetera.

the Vikings have landed

Sunday Peter & Annette arrived, after spending their first days in Africa in Paul’s Cape Town dwelling. Travelling from Kaapstad to Johannesburg by plane, and than from Joburg to Gaborone by bus, you cover quite a distance, not only in k’s but also in atmosphere. As liberal as Kaapstad was during the Apartheid Struggle, it seems to have come to a standstill, or is even sliding backwards, now.


So now the Vikings are in Morwa, Botswana, and we do some sightseeing together. Monday we had Andre over for lunch; just like Peter and Bram he also worked in Serowe 30 years ago. Today we’ll ‘do’ Gabs, and test if Peter recognizes anything after all this time. Tomorrow we travel further down memory lane: to Serowe.

Wanted

The last weekend-lunch was already a week ago, and it seems ages since we had a braai, so this Saturday it’s BBQ-time at Jeff’s place, across the road. To work up an appetite we first got our target practise initiation. This is a real challenge for Jeff: teach Maud and his daughter Yvonne to actually hit something, so Yvonne is able to chase snakes and Maud can succeed in just missing the baboons, to scare the shit out of them.
Since the baboons ransacked our watermelon-field, it’s war. Bram was ever so happy Maud finally also wanted a pallet-gun, and took the first opportunity to go gun shopping with Jeff. At ‘Explosion’ he got a real Sniper, and next to his Weihrauch Jeff bought a beautiful Winchester.


We decided to combine two projects, and practise on the zillion corncrickets in our yard, cause they have to be exterminated anyway. (Hardly any kouseband left for us, now that the crickets decided it’s nice food.)
It’s a pity corncrickets are not edible – there’re lots of dead ones in the yard now. It really gives you an appetite, loading, aiming, shooting, reloading, and etcetera – and catching targets in the guava-tree and the bean-field.


After all that exercise the braai is most welcome – steak, boerwors, maize pap, and a vegetarian feast, yummy! Adding to the flavour are the beautiful surroundings: we elderly people are supposed to find a place as far away as possible from the youngsters, so we conquered the upper deck with the marvellous view, while Yvonne and her friends have to make do with the lower decks.

Vikings in Botswana

Next Sunday our Danish friends Peter & Annette arrive. Bram and Peter met when they were both working in Serowe. Peter left Botswana 29 years ago and has never been back, so this holiday will be an exiting trip down memory-lane.
We just met another guy who was also teaching in Serowe way back when. It took Gerrit and Bram a while to realize they knew each other. Seeing the old picture Gerrit's Peruvian wife carries around you understand - without the long, wavy locks and impressive beards recognition is very hard... (The hairy guy underneath is Bram). Just like Bram, and many other guys, Gerrit left Botswana, worked elsewhere in the world, and came back.


We'll join P&A on a little tour. First stop: Serowe & Khama Rhino Sanctuary. For us it's partly work, because the rhino's need more pr-materials, and a design for their trade-fair booth in Durban. Second destination: Maun or Kasane, in both cases route & campsites pending on road-conditions.
If we go to Maun, we'll hang out with Piet and Klaas, and have our Africa-car (the old Hilux) serviced, while P&A may fly into the Okavango-delta. After the Hilux is patched up, we can go into Moremi or Chobe, but only if the weather stays nice and dry, because we don't feel like being stuck in sticky mud again.
Right now we're also pitching for some work for a lodge in the Chobe, Vic Falls, Kasane area, but it's too far to combine with the Okavango.
Our route back to Morwa will be determined by the weather again; if it has been raining, we'll visit the beautiful 'deep sand' sites. Drought means the gorgeous muddy places are a good choice.
We'll be surfing the worldwide web again around February 24.

Botswana Features

Saturday and Sunday we attended 'the changing of the clothes' of Hille's widow Marrow. A Motswana widow wears black clothes for a year, and a mekgoa widow doesn't, so for Hille they choose half of the Batswana, half of the lekgoa custom: half a year of black.


Saturday, the day for all the important things in life, Marrow does the first part of the changing. Early in the morning she goes to her parents yard to burn the black clothes, shave her head, and kill a goat.


Meanwhile the youngsters prepare a traditional lunch in her own yard. Elderly guests like us just sit, chat, drink the strong, sweet tea and eat the special bread, papata, baked in the big black cooking pots, while waiting for Marrow to return.


The sharing of the belongings finishes the traditional mourning period. Sunday early in the morning, mmapakela (before the sun is hot), the children of the deceased divide his personal possessions, supervised by some elder family-members and neighbours.

Sunday Loitering

Last Sunday we had some people over for 'lunch'. A proper Botswana weekend-lunch doesn't start before 13:00, meaning there'll be food around 15:00, and there should be enough grub to last till sunset. As important as the food is shade, cause sunstroke will destroy your appetite. Bashi & Bram added an impressive shady patch to the house, which serves as a carport when there are no guests.


Luckily Mpho (Gift, 14) was there to prevent Bram from burning down the shade while frying boerwors. It's probably good the rest of the food, Indian vegetarian and Bram's special chicken livers, didn't require a braai... Add a bucket of sangria to wash the grub down, and you have another one of these mellow African weekend-afternoons we love so much.


It's amazing how the language-issue never bothers kids. The new Dutch-Scottish arrivals are mildly surprised some kids speak neither Dutch nor English, but it doesn't seem to hamper their games at all.


Finally something decent to eat: desserts!
After playing all afternoon one really craves for some red & green jelly, coconut & coffee custard, and vanilla & cashew ice cream to regain strength.
We shouldn't have worried about entertaining the kids: our 'Africa-car', with a roof rack and ladder, is all they need. Callum (4): "Jullie hebben de allerdemooiste Afrika-auto." (And our small bakkie is 'de allerdeliefste'.)

Many Morgen

Thursday we visited our neighbour Mma Binkie at her masimo. She has a lot of farmland, considering everything except for the ploughing is done by hand: eight morgen. But this year she only farms on two morgen, because she didn't have cash in time to hire the tractor for more ploughing.
It might also have something to do with the fact that only she, an approximately 60-years old lady, and her even older looking brother are willing to work on the masimo. To put it in Bashi's words: it's a disgrace the kids and elder grandchildren are hanging around town without jobs, and only turn up during the weekends to wriggle money out of the old lady.
When we arrived the two golden oldies were busy weeding, to free the maize, sorghum and sugarcane from the big, wiry grasses. We probably wouldn't last one hour, shovelling by hand in the blazing hot sun! So we realized when Mma Binkie showed us around, and told us to pick as much morogo as we liked.
Morogo means green leaves used as vegetables in general, and right now the bean leaves are in season. We cleaned and prepared them according to Mma Binkie's directions, and they were really nice. They're an important part of a nutritious winter-diet. To make your winter-stock, you cook them shortly, and than spread them out on the roof to dry. Mma Binkie already gave us a bag of those, which we'll try to take to the Netherlands.
Although our conversations are hampered by the fact she speaks mostly Setswana to us, and we speak mainly English and Afrikaans to her, the three of us seem to be able to exchange information. She explained why every day she walks all the way to the masimo before sunrise, and all the way back around sundown, instead of staying in the little house on the lands over the week. Her lands are quite close to the tar road, and the Zimbabweans like to force entry into the house and stay overnight, so it's dangerous.

Bram's small study of Critters

Corn crickets, the pesty little fellows Maud wrote about earlier, cause havoc with our water melon-patch hardly visible in the background. We do not use poison, so it’s a man-to-man and woman-to-woman battle, which you can see we as Goliaths win easily in terms of size. However, they outnumber us big time. Our security cameras spot all movement - we bash one, two, three, but this species are true cannibals, eating their own kind besides all our greens, so they come back bigger and bitter.
We need the men in black with the big guns, as this is mission impossible in our eco day and age. We also know now they favour our chili plants, but leave the parsley, hot horny (on their back-shield) devils they are.


Talking about creepy crawlers, what about miss Scorpio. Gorgeous beady little eyes, and a big mouth to match her stinger. She was found under the 4 x 4 but had no intentions to go for a drive to the bush. Maud wanted a kill again, as a few weeks ago we discovered how bad a bite can be. Our neighbors' daughter called us: their 'hunting dog had been bitten by a snake’, she thought. I drove immediately down to the vet, half an hour still, so I was happy the dog was still breathing, although unable to move. The vet needed only to touch the animal to know that it was a scorpion bite. Their venom makes the whole skin hypersensitive to touch, and even a healthy dog like Mma Supa must stay on a drip in the hospital for three days.

the Art of Camping

If you want to learn how to camp, go camp with Afrikaners.
First of all they know how to pack a car. When they start offloading, we see with awe they really manage to take 'everything but the kitchen sink': babies, the microwave, fishing rods, grannies, the braai stand, dogs, fridge, and etcetera. Okay, our bakkie is considerably smaller than most of theirs, but still - ours looks like a mess after the first coffee break, while theirs look so organized...


Building up an Afrikaner camp is a very smooth operation. Within a wink the kraal is ready and organized, without any dispute. That's when we remember the camping trips of our youth. Entering the campsite was the signal for the first heated discussion: where to put the tent. That solved, the arguing about how to put the tent together would start. When the family was finally settled, the fun could begin: look how new arrivals bravely fight their camping gear.
Once the kraal is finished and the fridge is hooked up, it's time for the third or so beer and a bite. Where we have to make do with a peanut butter sandwich, they have their big bowls with homemade goodies. The bowls have to be emptied, because granny is already peeling the potatoes for the braai salad.


We already knew South Africans love fishing, but we were amazed by the popularity of other water-fun. So many trailers with boats, jet ski's, water ski's - you name it, they have it. After the first bite, it's time to pack the cooler and go to the shore. The only unpopular water-activity seems to be swimming. Maburu like to sit or stand in the water while sipping a beer, though.


In Xai-Xai we did have our share of fellow-swimmers, but they all looked very Mozambican or Portuguese.


Special about Xai-Xai is the continuous 'room-service', orders to be placed in Portuguese, Afrikaans or English. At the campsite and on the beach everything is brought to you: the baker-boy (recognizable by his white cap) walks by with bread; the ladies deliver fruits and veggies; the kids bring fresh coconuts; and boys and young men sell every souvenir you want, or don't want at all.


At the Xai-Xai campsite the service is even more elaborate. Every tent is 'owned' by a man who'll wash, clean, cook, and do whatever else you want.
However packed this campsite is (and all the other sites we stayed at), for us Europeans it's amazingly quiet and tranquil. No loud music, in fact, hardly any music, no shouting nor quarrelling, no stress - these Afrikaners are so relaxed! They did learn from Africa; who cares whether the braai is served at 06:00 hours on the dot or not - the food tastes just as good anytime.