May 11, 2010

I’ve started working on a project in the office, which is using my skills – so I enjoy it – but it’s not as fun to blog about. I’m tasked with helping them find a software to use to send out their e-newsletters and to write the next one. I also want to help them get more visibility on social network sites. Even though it’s office work the doors and windows are open and the pets are at our feet so it is much nicer than the offices I’m used to.

Friday night we went to a nearby farm where they have a lodge that has a bunch of traditional San huts for the guests to sleep in and a Bushman walk, followed by traditional dancing. This was one of the things I was most looking forward to because the Bushman use different roots and leaves for medicinal purposes and I am into homeopathic medicine. Their methods and means were way different than mine though. Like the first stop this really old San woman dug up the roots of a wild plant and the guide told us it’s for ‘women who have problems’ (that problem turned out being infertility). You have to have an elderly person dig it up for you and you boil the roots and then drink the tea. In one month you will be pregnant. I’m incredible skeptical since so many of my friends have spent thousands of dollars trying to get pregnant, but the traditional part of this is pretty cool. We continued along learning how they use other plants but since we were with a tour bus (yes – in the middle of the bush in Africa they still have those annoying things) the tourists were annoying and rude and made it really hard for me to hear or see anything.

Following the walk the owner cooked us the best meal I’ve had thus far in Africa – a beautiful salad and a vegi Shepherds Pie which was yummy! We then watched the traditional dancing which was interesting but repetitive, and my distaste for my fellow tourists just grew and grew until I wasn’t interested at all. It felt like we were in the Polynesian village at Disney World and all authenticity went out the window.

On the way home that night I found out the farm next door found a dead cheetah and Max was going to pick it up. The plan was to autopsy it the next morning. Despite the great experience it would have been for me to partake I found myself very sad to have lost one when I hadn’t even seen one in the wild yet. So the next morning I hid in my room until after noon while they went up to the clinic and did it. It was the oldest and largest cat they’d seen around here and since the stomach was completely empty and the area around the cat showed the cats paws were flailing around before it died they believe it was poisoned. My heart aches.

On a better note we all went out dancing at Ghanzi’s only dance club Saturday night and it was… interesting. It was like a big hall, one that you’d find a VFW in or something. Wood panel walls, linoleum floors and one disco ball in the middle. There were about 10 men to every woman and they kept coming up to me telling me to marry them. One guy even introduced me his sister. It was cute and not threatening at all, but now I have some idea what it feels like to be a celebrity and have paparazzi complimenting you and following you around. Okay, maybe the paparazzi comparison is a little ridiculous but hey, I miss the E! channel.

I finally did some shopping! This really cool girl Sarah is based in Maun and came and stayed with us Sunday night. She runs a not-for-profit that supports women who care for HIV/AIDS orphans. In Ghanzi – as in other towns around Botswana – she has a group of women who meet regularly as a support group and the organization helps each woman get started on jewelry making. Each time she comes into town she meets with them and looks at the jewelry they’ve made and she buys the good pieces off of them. From there she tags them with info about the project and the woman’s name and sells them to the lodges for their shops. The money goes right back into getting materials for the women. I was so inspired by this. The jewelry is specifically ‘paper beads,’ in which they get large posters and use pieces of the posters to make ‘beads’ by rolling them and setting them. They are all so colorful and look really professionally done. I was able to buy them right off the women in the group so I stocked up on gifts for everyone back home. And myself. ;)

We also went to Ghanzi Craft, a well-known craft store that only sells the jewelry made by the local women and the proceeds go right back to them. While in the store I peaked out the back window and there were about 10 women with their babies and small children, gathered in the shade making the jewelry for the shop. I am a sucker for this kind of thing and stocked up on the typical local jewelry, which are strands of small beads made of ostrich eggs.

This week we are starting a new study which will require lots of time out digging on the farm and for the first time I’m ill. The stomach/intestinal bug that I’ve been expecting has arrived. So I will be taking it easy and probably just letting my body heal itself. As the poster on the wall of my travel doctor in NY says, ‘Travel will open the mind... and loosen the stools.’