Kindle Version

Africa Lite ? Boomers in Botswana is now on Amazon as a Kindle compatible e-book and only $3.99 What a bargain!

http://www.amazon.com/Africa-Lite-Botswana-Christopher-Doran/dp/1468507036/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1329098894&sr=8-1

Alaska Airlines Article

We received a real nice write-up as part of the "Reinventing Retirement" article in the January 2012 edition of the Alaska Airlines in-flight magazine.  It is on page 74 at http://alaskaairlines.journalgraphicsdigital.com/jan12/

He's Baaaaccckkkk!

Just when you thought it was going to be dull Christmas marred by:


--Congressional Gridlock
--Kim Kardashian failing to return your wedding gift
--Not being invited to Kim Jong Il's State funeral
--Not getting one of the leads in "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo"
--Getting a strange virus which left you only able to say three words
       "Mitt"  "Newt" and "Obamaramalamaphislammajamma"


out of the swirling snow comes Kgosi Klaus and his eight tiny warthogs to deliver a gift to make Christmas Merry and the New Year bright--


"Africa Lite ?  Boomers in Botswana" from AuthorHouse (ISBN 978-1-4685-0703-4)

It is available in paperback at www.Authorhouse.com, www.amazon.com and www.barnesandnoble.com
The ebook version will be out shortly and I will send a post when it is.


Kgosi

The time has come the walrus said to speak of many things

Some final items I have learned in Botswana:


Seeing animals in the wild is thrilling

Most Batswana do not travel outside the country. Some have not travelled outside their village but almost everyone wants to

Invitations to dinner at someone’s home do not occur here – it is not the tradition
Many parts of Botswana look westernized, but right under the surface, are truly African

Eating with your fingers in Botswana is common

Paper products are scarce and make America look wasteful, but it sure will be nice to have toilet paper in abundance

99% of Batswana cannot swim but love the water

The gossip network here both within the town and within the country is truly amazing. Perhaps like any village, when something happens, it becomes common knowledge very quickly. Additionally, news here travels across the country at the speed of light. Everybody knows somebody who is related to somebody, who knows somebody, who…

Batswana love football (soccer) and faithfully follow the National teams, the South African teams, and the English teams.

America is a “doing” culture. Botswana is a “being” culture

If you go to a birthday party here, there are actually two parts. The first is for “the little old ladies” with food served and the second is for everyone else and includes alcohol, dancing and lots of fun

You feel a lot colder when it is 38° both inside and outside your home at the same time

The world is truly getting smaller. You can get halfway around the world very quickly

In Botswana, form is much more important than function. Protocol dictates all

The tarred road was a great invention

A Frisbee attracts children of all ages and all cultures

Clean water makes all the difference in the quality of life. It means clean vegetables, clean fruits, and significant freedom from disease

In our office, we have a separate accounting book for each type of cookie but we have none for the laptop computers and in fact we lost track of one

Electronic communication has changed the connectivity of the world

Being a grandparent is a great experience whether you are American or Botswana

Physical fitness is not a craze here, as a matter of fact, it doesn’t exist here

Warthogs are truly ugly animals

Although it is a different game, you can actually play golf on a course where the fairways have grass that may be 1 foot high and the “greens” are actually “browns” made of oil and sand

Opening and closing meetings with a prayer feels quite nice

Any child’s smile can light up a room

Ending on high notes:

We finished two of our Peace Corps projects on very successful notes. Our youth group, Lifeline, had a final party at which we watched the DVD of “Hairspray,” munched on snacks, and discussed the issue of racial integration. We also played Bingo and awarded prizes to all the kids—it was a smashing success.

Our movie making project on the issue of teen pregnancy prevention had our final showing and awards ceremony on Saturday. Two hours after it was supposed to begin it had all the makings of a disaster. Despite numerous requests and reassurances of getting transport from one of the local nongovernmental organizations, the combi and driver failed to show up. Therefore 16 adolescents dressed in fancy clothes and high heels and I were left standing by the road. I decided that this event was too important to have the kids be disappointed because of no transport so I dug into my pocket and paid for public transport for everyone to the town of Otse, a town 20 Km away where the showing was to be held.

Eventually on the bus I found out there was no reason to hurry since the electricity went out in Otse earlier that morning. Without electricity, the projector would not work. The other organizers of the event and I started to put our heads together about what we could do for Plan B. It was then that we learned that the backpack with all the award certificates had left Otse and returned to Ramotswa. Several frantic calls later we managed to track down the car and the awards. As they were returning, the electric power came back on. Lo and behold the event came off, 2 ½ hours late but successful nonetheless. Welcome to Botswana!!

At the showing, there were 65 youth from the ten teams. Awards were presented for various aspects of cinematography, best actor and actress, best director and other team awards. The movies were remarkably good and copies are going to be circulated throughout the district for showing at schools and community events.

Best Peace Corps dialogue

As with most governmental agencies, the Peace Corps is a profoundly bureaucratic organization. There are countless forms, checklists, and paper and electronic reports necessary for any activity.

So, two elderly female Peace Corps volunteers (#’s 2 and 3) were visiting another older female at her house. They did not know each other well and particularly the sleeping habits of volunteer number 2. The hostess and number 3 arose the next morning at the normal time and waited for over an hour but number 2 did not come out of her room. They became apprehensive and quietly opened her door to find her lying virtually motionless on the bed. They hoped she was sleeping and decided to give her another 20 minutes before they awakened her. A half hour later without any stirring they decided to go in and found her in the exact same position and could not see any breath moments.

PCV number 3: Is she dead?

Hostess: Oh God No! It’s a weekend. Think of the paperwork.

FEDITSE (Finished in Setswana)

Amazing as it is to both Kopo and me, our Peace Corps service and our time in Botswana has come to an end. We will be leaving from the airport on Monday for a five-day trip to Istanbul to celebrate our 40th wedding anniversary before returning to Denver on June 25th. It has been an amazing ride with considerable ups and downs, more exciting than any roller coaster.

It would be impossible to detail all of the events in these two years, but some of the highlights that are most memorable to us include:

Teaching 86 medical students the basics of Mental Health

Co-authoring a book “Power Parents” published here in Botswana both in English and Setswana. The book teaches parents how to talk to their children about sexuality and HIV

Mentoring and leading a group of 40 young adults and helping them with issues of self-esteem, self-confidence, public speaking, English skills, health and HIV issues, videography, photography, and leadership.

Kopo’s “Bee Girls” reading group--a dynamic fun, learning experience, culminating in essays that were sent to the author of “The Secret Life of Bees.” They had a personal interaction with the author complementing them on their work

Giving over 40 workshops, lectures, and presentations at various school, community, and professional organizations

Teaching the hospital staff of two different hospitals about mental health issues in medical practice

Serving as friends, colleagues, and mentors for the younger Peace Corps volunteers

Coining a new definition for the term “luxury living” in Botswana, which has come to mean living in a home which consistently and simultaneously has both electricity and running water

Surviving three house break-ins, two speeding tickets, and a road grader which knocked my office off its supports

Peace Corps has been a unique experience and one that will stay with us for the rest of our lives.

Peace Corps-the toughest job you will ever love.

The Khronicle Closes its Doors

Despite heroic efforts by the owner/editor and many of its supporters, the Kalahari Khronicle will be forced to cease circulation. As has been widely quoted in the media and on the Internet, the Khronicle has been labelled by many sources as “The Worst Newspaper on the Continent.” Although as the editor, I dispute this libellous claim vigorously, the fiscal realities dictate that termination is inevitable.

I wish to personally thank all those supporters (both of you) who donated money to pay for our legal fees. Our chosen lawyer to defend ourselves against these charges, Char Ching Hi Feez said that the total amount contributed would pay for 17 more seconds of his professional time. He spent 14 seconds eating and sipping Oolong tea. Finally he spat out his clear and simple along with bits of Egg Foo Yung--“Kgosi dude, give it up.” So, since we have no printing press, no paper, no employees, and no hope we submit for your consideration our final edition.

The Real Deal

A Sanford Florida automobile dealership is trying to drum up business by offering an unusual perk for potential used truck buyers –an AK-47 assault rifle. Although they have to pass a background check, sales manager Nick Ginetta at National Trucks says business “has almost doubled.” He also states that if by chance a buyer is not a proponent of an AK-47, he may use the $400 gun shop voucher to buy other firearms.

Kgosi’s Komment—Only in America.

Kgosi now set for travel

The Associated Press in Denver reports that Jeff Buske has invented a new type of underwear that will get a person through airport screeners with one’s dignity intact. The male version is in the shape of a fig leaf and the one for women comes in the shape of clasped hands. He says his invention uses a powdered metal that protects people’s privacy when undergoing medical or security screenings. Buske, CEO of Rocky Flats Gear in Las Vegas, says the underwear inserts are thin and conform to body contours making it difficult to hide anything beneath them. A mix of tungsten and other minerals do not set off metal detectors.

Kgosi’s Komment—Given that his company is named Rocky Flats Gear, Mr Buske seems to have failed to warn buyers that one unfortunate side effect is that after wearing the inserts for more than two hours, your private parts glow in the dark.



Baseball – the Intelligent Sport

Brian Roberts of the Baltimore Orioles is suffering from concussion-like symptoms which aren’t really funny. It appears though, that Roberts may have given himself brain damage by hitting himself in the head with his bat. “I don’t know 100% for sure what caused the headaches, but on Monday night in total frustration, I whacked myself on the head with my bat in the ninth. I had my helmet on. It’s something I’ve done 1 million times but I still can’t tell you for sure if that was it. That’s the only thing I can point to, because that night and the next morning, I just didn’t feel good.”

Kogsi’s Komment—Mr Roberts obviously also suffered from memory loss as he did not remember that in the Baltimore rout of the Toronto Blue Jays, Roberts also hit himself in the head during the 5th, 6th, 7th and 8th innings Kgosi has it on good authority that Mr Roberts has withdrawn his application to join MENSA.


More Poor Memory

The Press Association reports on Chinese surgeons who removed a rusty, 4 inch knife from the skull of a man who claimed it had been stuck in there for four years. Li Fuyan, aged 30, had been suffering severe headaches, breathing difficulties and bad breath, but never knew the cause of his discomfort. An official at Yuxi City People’s Hospital in Yunnan province said that Li told doctors he had been stabbed in the lower right jaw four years ago and the blade broke off inside his head without his even realizing it.

Kgosi’s Komment—Mr Fuyan swears repeatedly that he does not play baseball with Brian Roberts.
As to the symptom of bad breath, an exclusive interview with the Khronicle quotes Li as saying that he also swallowed a used plumber’s helper but did not realize that either.


At the risk of reports that the Khronicle will also be labelled as “The Crappiest Newspaper in Africa” we also report on the following three items:

Stinky Souvenirs

The Associated Press reports that the Prague Czechoslovakia zoo has started selling what look like ice cream containers but are actually full of elephant dung. This is the latest brainchild of zoo director Miroslav Bobek (whose surname literally means dung). It capitalizes on the latest fad among Czech gardeners who are buying the stuff to use as fertilizer. Zoo officials estimate they sell around 200 1- kg containers of dung every weekend at $3.90 each. Sales have been so brisk that they have decided to expand to selling on weekdays.

Kgosi’s Komment—First off, if my last name was Dung, I’d seriously consider a name change to something respectable such as Poooh or Crappe. Nonetheless, given that the elephant dung is packaged in ice cream containers, Kgosi is refraining indefinitely from buying any rum raisin sorbet at the zoo.

New Ashtray Design deemed inadequate

The Associated Press reports from Portland Oregon that a house fire that caused $30,000 in damage was apparently started by tenants who were using a hole in the floor as an ashtray. Portland Fire and Rescue spokesman Paul Corah says, in his words, “That’s not careless smoking, that’s stupid smoking.”

Kgosi’s Komment—One of the tenants also failed to report that after a visit to Czechoslovakia zoo, the hole was also serving as the reservoir for their souvenir purchase – a year’s supply of elephant dung.

Stool Daze

Kgosi was informed by the Peace Corps that as part of his departure physical examination, he needed to submit stool samples on three consecutive days. These were to be placed in small plastic containers the size of a spool of thread. This initially sounded like a simple task until reading the instructions. They stated that the person should stretch aluminium foil, plastic wrap, or a napkin over the toilet bowl to catch the sample. Kgosi dutifully tried the aluminium foil but it simply did not have the tensile strength to hold Kgosi’s depth charges. Next he tried the plastic wrap but found that to his dismay, it acted like a trampoline. After shouting “bombs away” from altitude, Kgosi was suddenly faced with the problematic challenge of either continuing to stay put and be clobbered from below on the rebound or quickly try to move out of the way and allow those scud missiles to fly everywhere uncontrollably. The end result was that no uncontaminated samples could be obtained in this manner.

Therefore, Kgosi resorted to the napkin method. He rapidly realized that it was not possible to stretch a napkin and get it over the toilet bowl. This led to placing a cocktail napkin on the toilet lid. Although this should have been easy, several factors intervened:

The instructions had clearly stated that those over 50 years of age needed to follow a restricted diet to prevent false positive results. Therefore it was not possible to eat red meat, poultry, fish, radishes, cauliflower, cucumbers, beets, or a variety of other foods in the three days prior to the sample. Kgosi decided to be on the safe side and ate a diet consisting of nothing but mounds of mozzarella, curdled cream, cheese whiz and candle wax. This resulted in stool samples somewhat resembling rabbit pellets. The problem with these hard round marbles was that they would roll off the napkin and inevitably find some crevice in the corner of the room.
Again with contaminated samples,

Kgosi changed direction and decided that a rock hard sample perhaps was not the best way to go--- so to speak. Therefore he followed a diet of rutabaga, rhubarb, chili and French fries. Although it was his expectation that this would result in a “normal” stool, this also failed as frank diarrhea ensued. Kgosi attempted to get the messy liquid into those small containers without success and did not think until it was too late to attempt to collect the sample in a large trash barrel.

Kgosi was running out of time to collect the sample and decided that a drastic dietary maneuver would be necessary. He began gobbling enormous quantities bran flakes, oversized carrot bran muffins, large homemade bran- filled brownies, whey, oatmeal, industrial strength Metamucil, washing it down with liberal quantities of Celestial Seasonings “Morning Thunder” tea.

Nothing happened for the first two days. Desperate and beginning to panic, Kgosi tripled his intake of the dietary regimen and added plates of partially cooked cabbage and baked beans. On the fifth day an ominous rumbling could be heard throughout the neighborhood. Dark clouds formed, the winds kicked up and witnesses described it like “the sound of a freight train.” The “end result” was an explosive expulsion that can be best described as an “Anaconda”—the length of a garden hose and the diameter of a rolling pin. Survivor’s claim to have heard Kgosi’s voice above the maelstrom yelling, “Thar she blows!” “Look Ma, no hands!” and “Heeeeere’s Johnny!” The explosion was heard as far away as South Africa. The earth shook, the heavens parted and a 10 foot tsunami formed in the neighbor’s bathtub. Trees were levelled; buildings toppled and electric power was disrupted in all of Ramotswa.

Although overcome with fumes, unconscious and in Intensive Care for a week, Kgosi is quoted on waking as saying, “What the hell was that?” When informed of the calamity and his near-death experience, he further stated, “Man, this was worse than when I hit myself in the head with the baseball bat.” He kept asking if his wife Gilda survived. He was repeatedly reassured that she did, but that her name was Kopo.

Back hoes, road graders and oversized dump trucks were brought in to clean up the rubble. After an emergency call to the White House, President Obama, dressed in a NASA space suit complete with air filtration system, toured the area by helicopter. On behalf of America, he has declared Ramotswa a Federal Disaster area and all air traffic has been diverted from overhead as a “No Fly Zone.” Kgosi’s apartment, of course, is a total loss. He and Kopo will be spending their last two weeks in Botswana living in one of those little FEMA trailers.

Writing from an undisclosed, underground bunker location outside the blast crater,
Your friend and devoted Editor

Kgosi

Strike Turns Messy

The strike of civil workers here in Botswana is now a month old and does not appear to be close to any resolution. The stakes have been raised on both sides over this past week. A sizable number of doctors and nurses joined the strike, were threatened to be terminated by the government if they did and then were terminated. This angered other healthcare professionals who then further joined the strike, in some cases closing clinics and hospitals and in other cases slowing them to a crawl.

Students in seven different schools including Kagiso Senior Secondary School here in Ramotswa where Kopo is serving, went into a “revolt” against the school administrators and teachers. There were some rock throwing incidents and broken windows. Police report that at Kagiso, 11 students were arrested for breaking into the school kitchen and stealing food.
As it happens, we were in Gaborone teaching at the medical school on Monday when this happened so we were not close to any of it. All has been relatively quiet since then. One would not know anything was happening from walking around the village, taking the buses, or engaging in one’s regular activities. It is just difficult to see how this is all going to play out as both sides in the strike seemed firmly entrenched.

For us, Kopo is most affected since the schools were closed after the rioting. She misses the kids and worries that her teaching goals may go unmet for this semester if the situation does not resolve soon. Otherwise, it means that we have no drivers or transport vehicles to go to any activities; we can’t order or obtain any supplies; and our Life Line youth group was cancelled for last week. Now, it is day by day waiting and watching.

Despite the upset with the strike, Kopo and I have carried on with the two major projects that we are still working on—namely teaching at the medical school, and doing a second draft on our book.

Kgosi and Kopo teaching

I also have been able to move ahead with the youth moviemaking project that we have been undertaking for the past eight months. All of the videos (on the subject of preventing teen pregnancy) have now been edited and we had a meeting earlier this week to have them independently judged. Some of these amateur movie makers are really good! As soon as we can work out the transportation issues to have the students gather from the three villages, we will schedule a screening with all the youth and our South East District Academy Awards for best movies and actors.

I have also learned who my replacement will be in the new Peace Corps class. It is a man in his late 50s from western upstate New York who has worked as a hospital administrator prior to coming to the Peace Corps. He will be moving into our apartment and taking over my position in the District AIDS Coordinator’s office. I think he is a great choice and will work out well in the office. Kopo will not be replaced at this time as Peace Corps is trying to match up the start time of PC school volunteers with the beginning of the academic calendar. That group won’t be replaced until a second class of volunteers arrives in September.

Kalahari Khronicle Volume 2, Number 9

You Win Some and You Lose Some

In line with the “Golden Raspberry Awards” known as the “Razzies,” handed out annually by a group in America for the worst movie films of the year, this year the University of Botswana started a tradition to “honor” the worst of Botswana media. They have called their award “The Tail End of the Donkey,” however everyone now calls them the “Assies.” Somewhat to our surprise, the Khronicle was named “The Worst Newspaper on the Continent” by the selection committee. They cited a particular story in volume 1 of the paper documenting Kgosi’s episode of explosive diarrhea resulting in his becoming a toilet paper felon. They called it a blatant example of tail-end journalism. Kgosi thought it best to play along with the fun and showed up in person to receive his Assie. It would not have been so bad if they had not introduced him as the Ass behind the Khronicle and the Biggest Ass this side of Namibia. Nonetheless he received his statuette showing a brown donkey from the rear and gave a gracious acceptance speech.

Of more serious concern this week however, the Khronicle was served with “cease and desist” papers by the local magistrate claiming that the Khronicle was “The Worst Newspaper on the Continent.” The document went on to say that the Khronicle had 30 days to shut down operations or arrests would be made. Needless to say, Kgosi totally disagrees with this assessment and will fight the order vigorously, even if he is behind bars.

The Khronicle has been scouring Gaborone for the best legal representation to defend us in court. Information on the street has coalesced around a single individual who is reported to be the finest defense lawyer in the country. He is a Chinese national who had been living in Botswana for a number of decades by the name of Char Ching Fat Feez. Kgosi had a difficult time finding Mr. Feez since his listing in the phone book gave his address as:

Offshore Bank Building
42 Notax Street
Grand Cayman


Through diligence, Kgosi made contact and had a preliminary meeting with Mr Feez who seemed competent, but was ridiculously expensive. But drastic times called for drastic action. Kgosi has made an executive decision to sell the Khronicle’s printing presses, paper, ink, and fire all the employees (except Kgosi) so Mr Feez’ retainer can be paid and the paper can continue to provide our readers with our highest quality editions. Mr Feez said that the fact that Kgosi has recently graciously accepted a statue for being “The Worst Newspaper on the Continent” may be a slight impediment to our case. But he also said we could counter sue for a million Pula since when the cease and desist order was hand-delivered, Kgosi got a paper cut.

As you know, the Khronicle had never asked for contributions or financial support. Now is the time however, and Kgosi is imploring all of our regular readers to send whatever they can spare to keep our rag… I mean our newspaper… afloat. Please act quickly and send your contributions to save the Khronicle.

Mr Feez has requested that to satisfy article 15, section 4, subsection 2A, paragraph 3 in the second footnote to Line 8 of the Botswana international legal code, all checks should be not made out to “Save the Khronicle Fund” but rather to:

Nameless Shell Company
Account # XZ459271GQ
Zurich National Bank

In the meantime, the Khronicle will not be hamstrung by these threats and, at least until the buyers come to pick up the printing press, we will continue to publish what our readers want.

Man-Dog Story

The Associated Press reports from Phoenix that a 33-year-old man who bit back after he was caught by a Phoenix police dog is suing the police. Erin Sullivan alleges the dog violated his civil rights and used excessive force to capture him after he ran from officers in Glendale during a burglary investigation last year. Police say Sullivan then bit the dog. The lawsuit is seeking $450,000 from the cities of Phoenix, Glendale, and four officers. He is now serving eight years for convictions in the Glendale burglary.

Kgosi’s Komment—Rumor has it that there were teeth marks on the dog’s ear and Kgosi has it on good authority that as soon as Mr. Sullivan is released from prison, he is planning to take up a boxing career billing himself as “the next Mike Tyson.”

Big….. Well…. Trouble

The Associated Press in Scranton Pennsylvania say they recovered more than 50 bags of heroin, cash and loose change from a woman following a cavity search. Authorities say 27-year-old Karin Mackaliunis was detained last weekend following a car crash. Scranton police say they found three bags of heroin in her jacket and after being taken to the police station she told investigators she had more in her vagina. A doctor performed a search of her vaginal vault and recovered 54 bags of heroin, 31 empty bags used to package heroin, miscellaneous prescription pills, a $50 bill and $ 1.22 in loose change.

Kgosi’s Komment—Kgosi has absolutely no comment on this story except to say that Ms Mackaliunis must really be poor because she can’t afford a change purse.


Classified ad from the Botswana Daily News on May 3, 2011:
Under business services “Wholesale: wigs, hairpieces, hairfood 397 2967”

Kgosi’s Komment—Kgosi has followed up on this advertisement and ordered a large shipment of “hairfood.” He is sure this will be the next big thing in the United States and will open a fast food franchise called McWigs with the entire menu made from hairfood. Featured on the menu will be:

The Beehive Burger
The all-time favorite-- the Big Mc Comb-over with two all-hair patties, special sauce, lettuce and tomato on a sesame seed bun
The healthy dieter’s alternative “The Bald Spot”
The filet of French Braid sandwich

Plain hairfood will be deep fried so that all employees will be able to ask each customer, “Do you want hair with that?”



New Career in the Offing

A report from Britain describes that when London police dragged a body from the river last June, rules and regulations dictated that they call for a doctor to determine that the individual was actually dead even though he was missing his head. When police pulled a headless body from the river you would have thought it unnecessary to have a doctor confirm that the person was dead, but in Britain, as in Botswana, protocol rules. A medic was duly called in to declare that the man in question was actually “life extinct”
Kgosi’s Komment—Kgosi now knows that his somewhat-rusty medical skills can still be used. He will set up shop in Denver with a unique specialty whereby he will be on call with the sole purpose of declaring that someone is “life extinct.”
Since Dr Kevorkian has already been coined Dr. Death, Kgosi is changing his name to
Dr. X Stinked

Business flyers will be circulated all over the metro area

Specialist in all the questionable cases of untimely death.
Don’t be fooled by keeping Grandpa around for weeks after he has expired. Worse yet, avoid the embarrassing situation of burying Cousin Mildred when she hasn’t yet kicked the bucket. I cover all cases of headless corpses, lifeless stares, and decomposed remains.
Our specialty—telling rigor mortis from intoxication
All insurance policies that cover erroneous identification of death are accepted.
Call today before humiliation happens!

Kgosi

Ho Hum – Strikes and Other Things

The civil workers strike is continuing. At least here, nothing has really changed although there was a “revolt” of some students in another town because their teachers were not in the classroom. Nothing like that in Ramotswa though. The workers had given some signs that they intended to come back to work last Friday and begin a “go – slow” mode, but they never did. One wag in the newspaper said “How would you know if they did?”

Things have been barrelling along for Kopo and me as we began teaching the medical students last week. This will be on-going for another month. We get to teach in a real classroom on the University of Botswana campus this year instead of a partially renovated warehouse. There are 48 students this year, 12 more than last year. The class seems quite a bit more lively and interactive. They even laugh at a few jokes.

A few more things I have learned in Africa:

The people of Botswana are remarkably musical. I guess I expected them to dance well, which they do. But what surprised me was the number of really good singing voices. Virtually everyone can carry a tune and loves to sing. At times, if there is a lull in a meeting, someone will spontaneously break out in song and the others will join. I never know what the lyrics mean but they sound joyful.

Botswana is not a reading culture. Very few books are sold or read, although most can tell a pretty good story and enjoy both watching and putting dramas for an audience.

The phrase “that side” is used in Botswana English all the time. Not “on that side” or “toward that side” —just “that side.” --as in “I am going that side.” It can mean on the other side of the building, the other side of town, across the room, or in the general direction that you are pointing.

Rhinoceroses in the wild look prehistoric.

The homebrew made by the natives tastes terrible, but it a favorite of the locals because it is cheap.

The Botswana people are terrified of snakes. Even if you are in a wide open field of dirt, they are always looking to see if a snake may be creeping up. It is an unwritten law here that if you see a snake, you must kill it. Usually this means finding someone else to kill it. They even have a specialized unit of the army to come out to kill snakes, but invariably by the time they are called and arrive, the snake has long since disappeared.

America is not the center of the universe in southern Africa. If you are a white person and ask a native to guess where you come from, they are much more likely to say you come from the UK, Australia, Germany, or Canada. America is about 5th on the list.

Xenophobia (the fear of strange people or strange things) seems to be a universal human trait. While in America currently, the focus is on Arabic and Muslim people, here it is the Zimbabweans. Anything bad that happens in the culture, on the street or in the next town over will be blamed on the “Zims.”

I don’t personally know Barack Obama or Beyoncé, although many of the school-age kids are convinced that I should because I’m an American.

Duct tape is the solution to 99% of the world’s problems.

One of the most fascinating creatures to watch is the dung beetle. Varying in size from a dime to a half dollar, the critters are able to move balls of dung 4 to 5 times their size. In the course of a half hour you can watch it move a large ball 20 yards to its hole. When it pushes the ball into a dead end, it knows enough to climb over to the other side, push it out and find a new route. Eventually, it pushes the ball into the hole for the baby dung beetles to eat. I think if I were a baby dung beetle and I knew after birth that I was going to have a standardized diet of donkey dung shoved down my throat by my mother, I would “fail to hatch.”

Strike-Yes, but so What?

The labor strike of 9,000 civilian workers is now in its sixth day. On occasion, there has been a gathering of people at a rally with a speaker talking from a bullhorn. Managers are seen wandering around the offices chatting and sitting in front of computers. Other than that, there is not much sign of a real strike although the newspaper suggests that border crossings are quite crowded and the lines lengthy.

The most significant development is that nurses and doctors in several of the public hospitals and clinics have joined the strike, shutting down the clinics and leaving some inpatients in the lurch. The government has gone to court to require medical personnel to remain on duty with at least skeleton crews. The buses are still running, the mail is still being delivered and most of the stores are open.

The construction crew near our office for a new 15’x15’ outbuilding for the Council Secretary has continued working. This would not be memorable except it is being done by hand and one of the workers with a pick axe managed to cut the electrical cable, so we have no electricity. At least publicly, there appears to be no significant move toward compromise between union and management and everything has been put on hold for the four-day Easter holiday including any attempt to restore our electric current. No juice, office staff can't work, no Internet…a real pain!

Some Things I have Learned

Every respiratory infection, cold, nasal drip or cough, is labelled here as “the flu,” and reason to be off work if you go to the clinic and get a signed note from a doctor, which is very seldom refused.

Toothpicks are a Botswana obsession. Perhaps because a lot of meat is eaten here, every table contains a supply and most everyone uses one. I had addiction long before I came to Africa so it was not unusual for me. What was unusual was to see everyone, including the most fashionable ladies, vigorously pick their teeth after a meal. Some would have a toothpick hanging out of their mouth during the post-prandial conversation which vaguely resembles Popeye’s pipe. If there are no regular toothpicks around, the Batswana grab the long thin thorns of the acacia trees to do the job.

Public transportation here is quite good. Combi's (extended VW mini-busses) do short and medium runs and carry 16 passengers. Large buses vary in their condition, but in general are quite safe and clean. There are no chickens or other animals on board. The schedules generally run on time and the fares are cheap – it costs about 80 cents to go from our village to the capital 15 miles away. You can travel from one end of Botswana to the other (the size of Texas) for approximately $22. There is one proviso however, and that is that your butt must be no more than 14 inches wide. If not, you become very “up close and personal” with your next-door neighbor or have 1 ½ cheeks on the seat and one half cheek hanging right out there in the aisle.

Batswana love photographs. As soon as they see you with a camera they ask for their picture to be taken and are delighted to have someone take a picture of you with them. Many do not want to smile and prefer a solemn expression.

The cell phone penetration in Botswana is 136%. This means that statistically, every citizen has one cell phone and approximately one third of the population has two. As is common in the States, people use cell phones to call or text almost constantly--while on the bus, walking down the street, or in meetings.

Basic services such as electricity, water, gas for cooking, and telephone are generally available but can shut off unpredictably for varying lengths of time from several minutes to several days.

Clothes smell fresher when they have dried hanging on a clothesline. Clothes driers are virtually non-existent except for the very wealthy.

The big meal here is lunch. Particularly at conferences or other places where there is a buffet line, I do mean “BIG.” Plates are piled with a large mound of food and often people go back for seconds.

In general, the vast majority of people are quite honest. On four separate occasions I had my cell phone or wallet fall out of my pocket on a public bus. On all four occasions someone would notify me or in one case, a passenger chased me down at the front of the bus to return the item. Nonetheless, our house was robbed three times, while we were sleeping.

I feel a lot safer in a country in which guns are illegal.

Unless you are situated on a busy road, the only sounds that you hear in Ramotswa are birds chirping, roosters crowing, cowbells clanking, donkey’s braying and children laughing and playing.

Kgosi

STRIKE?

In America, labor strikes are quite common.  In Botswana where even the hint of confrontation is avoided, they are a rarity and there has not been a major one since 1991. Nonetheless, we are on the verge of a country-wide labor strike beginning at 7:30 AM tomorrow morning. It is a typical conflict between workers and government management about wages and benefits.  This should not in any way be confused with the uprisings in Egypt, Tunisia or Libya. Those countries are over 5000 miles away and have dictatorial governments. Botswana has both democratic elections and democratic freedoms. The cause of the strike is that the rank-and-file workers have not had a pay raise in over three years while prices have risen.  The government says that diamond sales are down so they do not have the revenue to offer a pay raise now, but have offered to reconsider in September. This has not been satisfactory to the workers, so drivers, secretaries, teachers, nurses, border guards, and many other civil servants are scheduled to walk off the job. Most managers are considered essential and/or are not members of the union so they will remain in their offices.

Peace Corps has given us specific instructions not to take either side, to be seen around the village but not to be in our offices.  An interesting twist to this strike is that it has a scheduled re-evaluation date in 10 days and then a “stop date” in three weeks.  This is quite typical of Botswana civility and unlike American strikes which threaten to go on indefinitely until demands are met. We will see.

Travel plans

Kopo and I have come to decisions about our return travel strategy. As some of you know, we had planned to go to Egypt, but that obviously is not a good idea at this time. We have decided to go to Istanbul Turkey for four days when we depart Botswana June 20th. We have booked a hotel and tours of the Bosporus, the blue Mosque, and other sites in and around the city. In addition to simply being an interesting trip in a safe country, it will also be a celebration for our 40^th wedding anniversary which occurs on June 27. We have our flight plans arranged, leaving Istanbul on the morning of June 25 and arriving in Denver at 10:00 that night.

Re-evaluation time

As we approach the two month mark left in our service here, I have found myself thinking a lot about the last two years, Africa, and Botswana. So with each post from now on, I want to start to identify “Some things I have learned.” and will begin with this post.  Therefore, in no particular order......

SOME THINGS I HAVE LEARNED IN THE LAST TWO YEARS

1.      

1. Most African women dislike their hair. They find it not straight enough and unmanageable.  Most spend a regular afternoon with frequency in the beauty parlor to remedy this situation. There is one whole aisle in the supermarket solely devoted to hair care products. Many women have a close-cropped cut, which is comfortable in the heat. A large percentage of them either wear wigs or plaits with extensions which look quite natural. It is not unusual to have women show up with three or four drastically different hairdos in any given year. A regular accompaniment is a brightly-colored scarf tied in a variety of ways.  Men almost always have a buzz cut which varies from a virtual shave to a short length.

2.      
2. In America we have three responses to a question – “Yes, Maybe, or No.” In Botswana, there are really only two answers and the meanings are different. “Yes” means “Maybe” and “Maybe” means “No.”   To directly respond to a question with a “No” is almost never done. Until you understand the meanings of the words as they are used here, it appears that Africans don’t tell the truth. This is not true, as they just don’t want to offend you.

3.      
3. The definition of “Youth” in Botswana is from age 15 to age 29.   This group is great fun to work with as they are enthusiastic, willing to learn, and interested in almost everything.

4.      
4.There are a great many chess players in Botswana (It is the single largest extra-curricular club in Kopo’s school). Almost no one though, has heard of checkers, Chinese checkers, Scrabble, Concentration or other games that are second nature to most American children. When taught, they pick up the games rapidly and play with great relish.

5.      
5.Transportation is a major hassle for Peace Corps service.  Until we came to Africa, it was hard to think about how much a convenience it is to have a car. Just imagine carrying all your groceries, any purchases you make, any equipment you need for a presentation, while walking everywhere, potentially in the rain or the heat. Oh yeah I just did. Ugh!

6.      
6.Drivers here feel they own the road and things such as pedestrian rights or bicyclist safety is non-existent.  Cars will maintain their position in the road regardless of whether you are walking along the edge or trying to cycle. Most everyone drives too fast or too slow.  Traffic accidents are unfortunately common.  Two relatives of my office mates as well as two other colleagues in our work complex have been involved in walking or driving collisions in just the last 6 months alone.

7.      

7.Despite our American proclivity to refrigerate any kind of left over, it has become quite clear that many foods do not spoil if they are left out on a kitchen counter or on the stove. Particularly when we were staying with our Botswana host family, we ate virtually every combination of meat, vegetables, pasta, and other foods which had stayed out in the open air overnight and we never got sick.

8.      

8.The Batswana are always well dressed.  Teachers, office workers and store clerks are always dressed in skirts blouses and high heels for the women.  Men have polished shoes, and a collared shirt often with a tie.  Clothes are spotless and well pressed.  Men’s shoes are of a particular style with long pointed tips which extend far beyond the end of the toes.

9.      

9.The air is very clear and the sky is bright blue almost all the time.  There is virtually no air pollution although dust blows frequently during the windy season.

10.  

10.It is very pleasant to be respected for one’s age and be free of America’s necessity to appear young.

Kgosi

Youth Trip and the Khronicle

Last weekend, we took our Life Line youth group to Mogkolodi Nature Preserve for an overnight camp and workshop. 25 students attended with 5 adult supervisors and Maureen’s brother Kevin who was visiting. It came off very well and the kids had a great time. In addition to sessions on ecology, waste management and animal protection, we went on a game drive, had team building exercises, went swimming, and played volleyball. At an evening campfire, we had small group discussions about family dynamics and parent-child interactions. Nearly all the kids have very little honest, direct communication with their parents, and every one had been physically beaten as punishment. About half would likely beat their own kids when they had them, but the other half felt they would not.They all yearned for their parents to listen more. One girl almost reluctantly spoke about how she could talk to her Mother about anything, at any time and felt quite comfortable doing so. As leaders, we tried to explore why that was so in her family and how as adults, the rest could foster that atmosphere in their own families. They all were intensely listening, and one can only hope these kinds of talks will bear fruit down the road. We ended the evening with singing, dancing and toasted marshmallows.Somewhat to our surprise, the kids actually went to sleep.

Teaching basic swimming. Most are relatively terrified to let go of the side of the pool

Bathing Beauties

The gents

Antlers on parade

Our formal pose




The New Place




I forgot last week to include some photos of our new apartment, so here they are.  It is actually quite civilized and by far the nicest place of the three that we have lived in.  Even though only a mile or so from our other two houses, it has quite a different feel.  A paved road, not a dirt one; an open field not a noisy bar across the street, but has the same clean air and school kids walking by. 
   As dawn breaks here though, there are bicyclists, joggers and power walking pairs of women.  A little later, cars speed past, going way too fast (a common occurrence on Botswana roads).  All this is mixed in with a herd of donkeys with bells around their necks, several cows with their own distinctive bell sounds, and eventually a large herd of goats eating everything in sight.  One of the donkeys has figured out how to open the gate to the apartments and stands stock still on the first floor apartment patio enjoying the shade.  It is an odd, but appealing set of contradicting sights and sounds.

Ours is second floor on the right

The view from our patio with the obligatory goats in the background


Kevin had a busy and very filled 4 days with us before he left for his safari around Botswana, despite the fasct that a wateer main broke and we had no water for 3 days.  Then he is off to Germany (where he lived for 5 years) to visit friends, and then to London to visit relatives. This picture is of the two O’Keefe’s, my boss Mma Ooke and our former next door neighbor and Ramotswa Librarian, Kakale.  Kakale called yesterday to say that goats had gotten into her yard and eaten all the blooms on the flowers that she and I had carefully dug up and hand carried to her yard when we moved.  Ugh!

The Kalahari Khronicle Volume 2 Number 7

Zsa Zsa and husband are no longer Lookers

CNN reported that Zsa Zsa Gabor’s husband Prince Frederick Von Anhalt accidentally glued his eyes shut requiring surgical repair by a Beverly Hills doctor. It apparently was dark and he grabbed his wife’s nail glue instead of eye drops. The prince is 68 years old and has been married to Zsa Zsa for 10 years despite the fact that she is now 93 and 25 years older than her husband. Zsa Zsa’s daughter reports that her Mother also suffered an eye injury when she mistakenly used “Krazy glue” on her eyelashes shortly after the marriage.

Kgosi’s Komment—It is apparent that this couple goes to great lengths not to look at each other. Kgosi cannot come up with even one good reason why people should be keeping Krazy glue on their bedroom nightstand.


Police search for Moron



KUSA TV in Denver report that Aurora police are searching for a man whom they say has a history of violence and has attacked his wife in the past. 35-year-old Joseph Moron is wanted for investigation of stalking, second-degree kidnapping, second-degree assault, first-degree burglary, and numerous counts of violating a restraining order. He is described by police as a 5’9” white man weighing about 208 pounds with brown eyes and brown hair.  They say he is known to frequent the area of Iliff Avenue in Aurora.

Kgosi’s Komment—Since grade school, Joseph has been doing his best to avoid using his last name and even pretending it is not so. Kgosi has it on good authority that Joseph obtained many of these legal charges after sequentially assaulting the post man and then his wife. The mail carrier knocked on the door and asked “Do Morons live here?” To which he replied “No we are the Smart people.” The post man replied “Are you sure you are a Smart person, because I got all this mail addressed to Morons at this address.”

“For the third time this week I am telling you I am not a moron.” He decked the postman and slammed the door. His wife witnessed this and realized she was not going to get any more mail “Joseph, you’re a Moron. You’ve been a Moron all your life and after I married you I became a Moron. Now you are not only a moron, you’re an idiot.” Shortly thereafter he pushed her to the floor and his wife obtained the first of a series of restraining orders which Joseph promptly violated. When dragged back into court the judge told him that this restraining order was plain and simple. He said only a Moron could violate an order that was this plain and simple. Joseph then assumed the court order did not apply to him and again violated the restraining order.

Kgosi hopes they catch this moron before Kgosi returns to Denver in June.

This and That

No, we have not fallen off the edge of the earth, but it has been an exceptionally busy time. First and foremost we have changed our residence, moving from one side of the village of Ramotswa to the other. You may or may not be aware that we had been having problems with theft at our house. It’s a long story and I won’t go into all details, however after the most recent one involving Kopo’s purse, Peace Corps decided that we “had” to move. Actually, if it had been left to us we probably would have stayed since we had secured the house from further incidents and the most likely things to be taken (computers, DVDs, cell phones and other electronic equipment) were already gone. I also didn’t want to leave my garden and we both didn’t want to go through the hassle of packing everything for just four months. There was no choice though and the district gave us two options to consider; one a freestanding house very similar to the one we were already in which had not been occupied for about six months, and the other, a 2nd story apartment in a relatively new fourplex. Once we looked at each, it was clear that the apartment was the better option. Normally I don’t think of apartments as being particularly spacious but this one is – even larger than our old house. It is on the second floor and therefore much less open to theft. Once we decided, the whole process moved rather quickly (almost astonishingly fast for Botswana.) We were packed up and moved in about three days. I have attached some pictures of the new place. It’s really quite civilized and almost doesn’t feel like Africa. Kopo and I quickly got things settled and put up our wall hangings to make it feel like home. The apartment is closer to work and now only an eight minute walk to the office. It is on the side of town that is closer to the main road so it is just a brief walk to the bus stop if we need to go to the capital city. It will do nicely for our remaining time here.

Shortly after we moved in we took our planned leave to join family members (my parents, our two daughters, their husbands, our granddaughter, and my brother) for a delightful cruise in the Western Mediterranean. We left out of Barcelona and went to two of the Canary Islands, Madeira (a Portuguese island), through the Strait of Gibraltar and on to Malaga in Spain before returning to Barcelona. It was a wonderful trip and most of all a happy family reunion. We were supposed to stop in Morocco where we hoped to meet up with our former Peace Corps director who had been transferred there, but because of unrest in the country, the stops in Morocco were cancelled by the cruise line. The level of unrest was nowhere near that in Tunisia or Egypt but as always, the cruise lines are quite conservative about any perceived dangers.

On the last day of the trip, Kopo and I both picked up a vicious upper respiratory infection which I’m afraid we passed on to most of the family. Fortunately their course seems to have been more benign than ours and they are mostly recovered. I in particular, have been really knocked for a loop by this. It’s the strongest and most long lasting virus I can remember in a long time. It is now 16 days since it started and I finally think it is going away.

As Paul Simon says Maureen "hung another year on the line" on March 19th. We celebrated with a cake and small party at her school attended by a number of her teacher/administrator colleagues, followed by a dinner of tacos and wine at home. (Tacos are about as "special" as we can prepare here, since we both like it and Mexican food is rare to non-existent).

Last week we had the Peace Corps formal “Close of Service” conference for 3 days. Although we still have approximately 3 months left in country, this conference needs to occur because there are many pieces of protocol (paperwork, medical and dental exams, closure and transfer of projects we have started, as well as packing up and dispersing our belongings) that need to be done before mid-June. The conference itself was quite helpful in bringing to light the issues that need attention as well as saying some goodbyes. We will see some of our colleagues who are close by to Ramotswa before we leave, but we will not see many of the people who are in the northern and western parts of country, many 10 hours by bus from us. We have had a particularly close-knit group of volunteers and some will remain life-long friends. There was a formal luncheon with many Botswana dignitaries, PC staff, all the volunteers and their Botswana counterparts on Tuesday. I got to give a speech partially in Setswana and partially in English celebrating the 50th anniversary of Peace Corps which occurs this year and the 40th anniversary of Peace Corps” in Botswana. (See below)

We still have much activity at our various worksites and secondary projects to complete before we leave, the most notable of which is again teaching the mental health module at the University of Botswana medical school which will last a month during May. Nonetheless as might be expected, our thoughts and discussions have begun to focus on coming home and “what’s next.” No firm decisions have been made other than the fact that we are coming back to Denver in late June. We plan to take the months of July, August and September to get resettled.


Never fear, the Kalahari Khronicle is alive and well and I hope to have a new edition in the next blog post.
Kgosi

Just another week--yeah right

A happy American Valentine couple

Dancing the night away

Four strong women – From Left to Right-- the former head of the Home-based care department, my boss – the district AIDS coordinator, the Kgosi of our village (the only female paramount chief in Botswana), and the lovely Kopo

Our winning couple flanked by the MC

Valentine’s Day

Some holidays are quite international and Valentine’s Day is one that is celebrated in Botswana in much the same way as it is in the States. We decided at last year’s planning session to have an event that we called “Love Fest” to celebrate couples, faithfulness, and to encourage couples testing for HIV. It has been really interesting to watch this event develop from just an idea, to planning, and eventually to implementation. As you can see from the pictures below, it was a real success. There were 175 people in attendance and approximately 40 couples. We had inspirational talk by a Reverend who is also a radio personality, music for dancing with a DJ, gifts for the couples and a competition to discover “The most Honored Couple in the Southeast District.” I emceed this part and had all the couples stand. Then depending on how long they had been together, each couple sat down until the longest lasting, most faithful couple were the only ones standing. Because I wanted to make sure that a couple from Botswana won the competition, I kept Kopo and me out of the running. As it turns out we wouldn’t have won and would have come in second, as the winning couple had been together for 41 years compared to our 39+. We gave the lady a dozen roses and a man a red Valentine tie. They were simply overjoyed to receive the recognition and cheers of the Kgosi, their friends and neighbors. We finished up with a meal and more dancing. It is an event that will surely be repeated in the coming years.


Culture Collage

Sometimes a single day’s activities can encompass many aspects of a country’s culture all in one. Our trek this weekend with the teachers from Maureen school did just that.

About three weeks ago it was announced by the staff development coordinator at the school that there would be a trip to visit the National Rhino Sanctuary on February 18. While this sounded like a great idea, at least for Kopo and I, it was met with a lot of scepticism since in over a year and a half there had never been any successful activity off the school grounds for the staff (Unfortunately the Ministry of Education is one of the most disorganized and underfunded departments in the government, and funding for anything that is not absolutely essential is as scarce as hen’s teeth).

Nevertheless earlier this week (only two days before we were supposed to leave) the trip was confirmed and the details announced:

We were to leave school at 3 PM on Friday for the six hour trek to Serowe where the Sanctuary is located. The departure time was a bit strange since school was in session until 4:30 but nonetheless, we arrived at the school at five minutes before three. We sat and sat with a number of other teachers mostly between the ages of 25-40. There was a 16 seat minibus parked there, but no one knew where the keys were because no one could find the driver. Even if the keys were located this bus would not be able to accommodate the 23 people who were supposed to attend.

From past experience, the following odds were now in effect:
40% that we would cancel the entire trip for lack of transportation
40% that we would attempt to squeeze 23 people into a 16 person bus
20% that some miracle would occur to provide other transportation

Lo and behold at four clock on a Friday afternoon the administrative assistant managed to obtain another 16 passenger minibus and a driver to work overtime. Will wonders never cease!
Now the only problem was there still were no keys for the first minibus. The organizer of the trip, Mr. Moseki wanted to call the driver but the driver did not have a cell phone. He eventually called the driver’s wife who said she also could not contact the driver because he did not have a cell phone. She suggested that the driver’s mother be contacted so Mr. M. drove over to the mother’s house who directed them to a neighbor where the driver was located. It is still mysterious as to why the driver was totally across town with the bus keys one hour after he was supposed to start driving the group.

Eventually two minibuses and two drivers left the school grounds at 5:20 with the expected two hour and 20 minute delay from the announced departure time. It now became apparent that we also had to pick up several more teachers in various towns along the way which further delayed us. Oh yes, I forgot to mention the plan was to stay one night in Serowe, visit two game parks and return via another six-hour drive the very next day.

Even though we were supposed to have a braai (BBQ) awaiting us in Serowe, several of the teachers insisted on stopping for food and proceeded to queue up for Nando’s chicken which took approximately 45 minutes. We eventually arrived in Serowe at 15 minutes to midnight at which time the braai started with steaks on a wood fire.

Patrick, the student intern from a local university had started to hit the sauce in the other bus very soon after departure, so by the time we arrived in Serowe, he was several cans on the wrong side of two six packs. He decided that we were one of the only couples who would talk to him so he came over and began a relatively nonstop one-sided conversation. He said that although he was teaching business skills he really wanted to start his own business in Sales and he could sell anything including “selling a fridge to an Eskimo.”
Several of the patrons of the establishment where we were eating were also somewhat under the influence and decided to come over and pick up one of the female teachers. Gallantly, Patrick went to defend her honor and they had a somewhat heated conversation after which the two fellows went away. Patrick look quite pleased with himself and I told Kopo “I think Patrick sold them a refrigerator.”

We all eventually had steak, paleche (a white starchy, rather tasteless blob and chockalacka (a spicy vegetable mixture). As usual, there were no utensils and we ate with our fingers somewhat hurriedly as the establishment needed to close in order to not violate national alcohol laws. We eventually vacated and went to our sleeping accommodations at 12:30.

As is usually the case, Kopo and I were treated exceptionally, almost as dignitaries and instead of the dormitory accommodations; we were taken to Mr. M’s family residence to sleep. Mr. Moseki’s mother dutifully woke up and warmly welcomed us to her home even though she had obviously been sound asleep. We were scheduled to have our game drive at the Sanctuary beginning at 6 AM and had to leave the house by 4:45 so we got about four hours sleep. Again, Mr M.’s mother was up to see us off and obviously delighted to have us.

Apparently, we had been advised that we also had up to bring our own transportation to ride around the Sanctuary so a third school vehicle made the trip. It was a flatbed truck with 18 inch high side panels and a steel framework which served as both a roll bar and a place to hang on so we wouldn’t fall out. We all stood in the back of the truck for the next three hours as we bounced over rough roads and watched animals in the wild. It was truly inspiring to see the animals in their natural habitat. We saw many of the 37 rhinoceros in the park as well as giraffes, elands, oryx, warthogs and zebras.

We got back to our various locations in town about 10 AM and many of the teachers were insisting on “bathing.” It was also now noticed that the two minivans were shortly to run out of diesel fuel and since they were government vehicles they could only be refuelled at government stations. When it was discovered that the government station in Serowe had no fuel, Mr. Moseki. decided that the 2 Buses Should drive to the next government fuel station which was an hour and a quarter away and then come back to pick up the passengers who would have by that time ”bathed.” Somehow it never seemed to be a good idea to have people ”bath” in 20 to 30 minutes and then drive in the buses back to the fuel station which we had to pass in order to return.

In any case, the buses took off and we went back to Mr. Moseki’s house where we crashed for a 30 minute nap, “bathed” and spent a delightful morning talking to his parents. Mrs Moseki had been a primary school teacher who had been rewarded by the government for her 38 year longevity in the school system. His father was a farmer who worked the lands not far from Serowe. From the house and furnishings, it was clear that they were above average means. They spoke and understood English excellently and were obviously quite proud of their son who was our tour leader. The buses, now refuelled, returned three hours later and we ultimately left at 1:30 in the afternoon, supposedly to visit another game park and make the six-hour return trip.

Our flatbed truck had started on ahead several hours before. Some two hours into the journey to the second park, we came upon the truck pulled over to the side of the road at a police roadblock and the driver in a heated conversation with several police officers. It turned out that the police officers had pulled the truck over to the side in a random check and demanded to see the government log book which every government vehicle has to have, documenting each trip no matter how long or how short. The truck’s logbook was unfortunately incomplete as the driver had not sought out Mr. Moseki to sign it for the drive from Serowe and therefore was in the eyes of the police, quite illegal and perhaps even stolen. Mr. Moseki. got out and as he described it “had to beg” to ultimately get them to release the truck.

We continued the journey stopping for lunch approximately 3 PM. We all piled into a small “take away” establishment and ordered the only food they had --which was a Styrofoam plate of Seswa and fat cakes. Seswa is spiced shredded and pounded beef which is actually quite tasty (Think Arby’s without the sauce). Fat cakes are snowball sized masses of deep-fried dough which are very tasty but travel immediately from your mouth to those locations on your body where you would least like to have them reside. Kopo and I had a Diet Coke along with our finger-fed meal and not surprisingly, the beverage cost as much as the entire rest of the lunch.

Fortified, we moved on and arrived at the park destination at 5:30, an hour after it closed but Mr. M. was determined and send there would be “hell to pay “if he did not show up for the appointment he had made with the park rangers. So after some haggling it was agreed that we could go out to the park. We drove approximately 8 miles on back roads to reach the park, met the rangers who were heading back to the office, but turned back. We then transferred into a small Jeep- like vehicle with an open bed in back and again a steel framework onto which we could hold to keep from falling out.

Patrick, who had continued his drinking ways on the return trip, asked the park rangers if they had a beer. They looked at him as if he was a refugee from Swaziland and piled us all into the vehicle. Obviously they were not happy at having to work at this hour so they took off like a bat out of hell with us standing in the back of the vehicle. The park itself was a large ranch which was enclosed by a high fence and we travelled the perimeter at breakneck speed often rounding the corners skidding through the sand and dirt, most of the time on four wheels but sometimes seemingly on two. I won’t say it was terrifying, but I did on two occasions try to text Liberty Mutual to see if I could reinstate my life insurance policy.

As we careened around the park, we would have to duck very 15 or 20 yards to avoid being scraped by overhanging Acacia trees. One female teacher at the front of the enclosure where we were standing kept demonstrating the roller coaster “Look Ma no hands posture”. One of the other female teachers kept saying “I like the spirit, I like the spirit.” Patrick looked somewhat ashen and as if he needed another beer. On several occasions the drivers would stop short to avoid driving into a pothole. There was no warning of course, so all of us standing in the back would pile into each other in a mass of humanity looking like clowns in the circus. For this ride, the total viewing experience consisted of five ostriches and a 15 second view of some gemsboks which are a grey antelopes that were supposedly only present at this location.

Having circumnavigated the entire park we returned to the flatbed as a beautiful African sunset of blue, orange and salmon was gradually sinking over the horizon. It was a beautifully warm African evening and we all were giving thanks for having survived the Jeep ride. Patrick decided to climb onto the front railing of a truck and do his best “standing –on- the- prow- of- the- Titanic” imitation but Mr. Moseki scolded him and he sulked back to the rear of the truck like a forlorn puppy.

We arrived back at the buses as the sunset and we began the rest of the journey home. Although none of the teachers besides Mr. Moseki would ever conceive, plan, or implement such a journey, they could be heard grousing about his organizational abilities behind his back. Eventually, we arrived in Ramotswa about 11 PM—tired but filled with many tales of a memorable experience.

Peace Corps Moment

One day last week, as I entered information into a PowerPoint for District workers and watched the rain furiously pelting outside my tiny caravan office. It has been raining almost continuously for the past 3 to 4 weeks. The country's rivers are running over their banks with dams strained to contain the waters. Several of the waterways have flooded into fields, houses, and roadways. Our National Day of Service is the next day. Ramotswa government workers are to be taken for our project to farm fields near the Ramotswa River which forms the boundary between Botswana and South Africa.

We spent the day pulling up drowned and rotted vegetables and fruits.  It was hot and tiring but we all worked side-by-side.  As I am up to my elbows in rotted watermelons, an old, brown toothed Botswana man came up and said, "Where you from?"

"America” I say.

"You own this farm?"

“No, I am just here to help.  I am an American Peace Corps worker.”

 "Oooooooh!”  A big smile.

I think maybe I am finally getting this Peace Corps thing. It's showing the world America and Americans one PowerPoint, one person, and one rotten watermelon at a time.

[Reader, pause at this point for a minute.  I think this story is what we are all about here….]

As is always the case in Africa though, there is more to the story.  So as Paul Harvey used to say, “Now for page TWO!”

After we finished the morning's work, the District sent out its brand-new, 60 passenger Marco Polo bus to pick us up (nice touch as we are all hot and tired). Within five minutes the driver has managed to get the bus stuck in the mud. Despite the protests of those present, he continued to spin his wheels as the bus sunk further and further into the muck. It is now totally buried to the running board and hopelessly mired. The driver then decided it a good time to try to open the pneumatic passenger door. When he did so, he got the door open 3 inches, stuck in the mud and broke it. He then climbed out of one of the passenger windows at the top of the bus, jumped to the ground and looked helplessly at the situation.  On his face is one of those smiles unique to the Batswana people when they have screwed up.   I have never seen anyone elsewhere in the world have one like it.  In my opinion, the smile looks is a cross between Alfred E. Neuman and the Mona Lisa.

After about 30 minutes of standing around, someone decided to retrieve shovels and several people began digging around the wheels. Needless to say, the driver didn't do anything but watch.  He appeared mortified, but unable to be part of a solution. After a half hour of digging we were ready to try to push the bus out, although the driver then realized that the door is stuck and he cannot get back into the bus except through an upper window which he cannot reach.  More digging to free the door and he was eventually able to get into the driver’s seat. After several tries with everyone pushing the front at full strength.  It seems harder than it should be given the man (and woman)power, but we got the bus up to the edge of coming out of the rut.  A great cheer erupts only to have the driver take his foot off the gas with the bus sinking back into the muck. What has now been exposed by this effort however is that the mud flap to the drive wheel has become fixed under the wheel so that as the driver tries to back out he is moving up and over his own mud flap (a situation which guaranteed that the bus would never move under its own power). 

More digging to move the mud flap.  Rocks and sticks are put under the wheels for traction.  There is much more heaving and pushing with no success.  Kgosi tries to tell the bus driver about the concept of "rocking" the stuck vehicle, but the driver looks blankly and cannot seem to understand. Somebody decided to use a cell phone and call for help.  Approximately 20 minutes later a few people in uniform arrive, but have no immediate idea how to get the bus out.  They make more calls, and it appears there will be an extended delay. 

At this point Kgosi concluded that there is absolutely nothing further that he can do in this situation and decided to walk back to the office.  Halfway through the 2 1/2 mile trek, he sees a puny tow truck heading toward the work site.  The vehicle was so small there was absolutely no possibility of it liberating the bus.

 Is this a great life or what?

The Khronicle Adapts to Changing Times

       To date, the Chronicle has been able to resist the temptation to increase circulation by publishing lewd photographs and risqué articles on sex or drug-fuelled orgies. Unlike the Enquirer and the London tabloids, the Khronicle has only published first rate journalism and high quality....um......news. That being said, all things must change. Our circulation is down -- one of our two subscribers is threatening to cancel and begin subscribing to the KwaZulu Natal Kourrier-- a real sensationalistic rag if Kgosi has ever seen one. They even publish pictures of animals without any clothes on, which we would never intentionally do.  (On advice of counsel however. Kgosi will not comment on the lawsuit filed by the Palin family.  It is truly unfortunate that the April 27, 2010 edition showed Sarah’s captioned picture which was erroneously replaced with the image of a male warthog.) 

     Therefore threatened with the distinct possibility of decreased revenue, we present 

our carefully craftedand tastefully designed "Sex, Drugs and Rock and Roll Issue."

The Editor Speaks

 Kgosi’s desk has been filled with scads of letters about our last publication in which Kgosi openly admitted a brief “relationship” with an orangutan.     Alright already, there were only two letters, but he made 134 copies of each one, so his desk is filled, and according to Wikipedia, 134 constitute a “scad.” The first letter may not be totally relevant since it was dated 1957 and the return address was:

J. Fred Muggs

30 Rockefeller Plaza

New York New York

      For those of you of a certain vintage -- which means any of you who are 

older than dirt--J. Fred Muggs was the chimpanzee on the Dave Garroway “Today” show from 1953-1957.  Fred was fired after it was found that he had a higher audience approval rating than Dave.  Fred has been long since deceased, so it appears that this was a dead letter mis-delivery. Out of reverence for those who have passed on, the letter was not opened.  Plainly visible on the back however, was the scrawled message—“Dave, you will always be the love of my life, Your loving Freddie—Poo.”  It is interesting to note the timing of this Muggs correspondence, just two weeks after the publication by the Terre Haute, Indiana Gazette Telegraph’s front page exclusive:

“Under a grant from MENSA, researchers at Valparaiso University recently received permission from New York authorities to reveal the long sought IQ test results on J. Fred Muggs, the lovable chimp on the Today show.  Results of the monkey’s intelligence testing reveal that his score was significantly higher than the combined IQ scores of                            Rush Limbaugh and Glenn Beck.”

Mr Limbaugh has had no comment on the story since he has apparently again entered drug rehab. 

The second letter is somewhat more relevant and arrived yesterday. The return address was:

D. Chainlink

Cardiac Intensive Care Unit

Little Sisters of the Incredibly Wealthy Hospital

Location -- Classified for Reasons of National Defense.

The letter reads:

"Dear Cozy, Crappy, Condi or whatever you call yourself:

       You are a tree hugging, African sympathizing, animal crusading, slant-eyed, Commie Pinko, no good excuse for a publisher.  I read the latest issue of the Khronicle and I am totally disgusted. The fact that you would admit to even knowing an orangutan breaks all bounds of compassionate conservatism.  As soon as I receive my heart transplant and I can find a partner who is willing to go hunting with me, I am heading to Africa on safari to shoot those crummy primates. We have confidential intelligence that the baboons are building up a uranium stockpile and the Chinks...I mean chimps... have Weapons of Mass of Destruction.  I just found out that the damn gorillas are using poison gas to kill our brave men and women overseas—matter of fact, I am just starting to read a book all about that stuff—”Gorillas in the Mist.”            Anyway, if the hunting safari doesn’t do the job, George and me will just nuke the whole continent.

      I am enclosing the results of an highly acclaimed scientific survey from a renown journal in the UK, England, or whatever else they call that place over there.  It serves to backup my thinking about you animal lovers.  A survey from the Limey’s is  believable since they were the only ones who blindly obey........er...... were loyal enough to be our partners in “The Great War” to liberate the Oil reserv...............Iraqi People.  So read it and weep.

Proud to be a gun carrying Patriot

D. Chainlink

Yale class of ’63 (at least that’s when I would have graduated if I hadn’t flunked out and began drilling in Wyoming)

Kgosi feels obligated to respond to this letter and defend the honor of his beloved Bobo the orangutan.

Dear Mr. Chainlink:

                First and foremost, you have obviously accepted the premise, instigated by Interpol, that my relationship with Bobo was more than purely platonic.  Bobo and I have a close, chaste bond that will never be defiled.

The research which you enclose is a study done by the “renowned” journal Lifestyle News and funded by BioRepair toothpaste dated January 26, 2011 in which a poll of 1045 English adults stated that their biggest concern after having sex with a new partner is that they would wake up and smell their partner's bad breath.  Other common fears were "awkward silences, being stood up on a date or that your partner needed deodorant.”   As an aside, Kgosi feels that if you fall over on the date, you deserve everything you get).

Louise Fair, a representative of BioRepair today was quoted as saying “It was surprising just how fearful Brits are of having morning breath in front of a new partner, especially as this came in as more embarrassing than being naked in front of a new partner.”  (Kgosi--It also serves as a not-so-subtle reminder to bring a tube of BioRepair whenever you stay overnight.)

     Beyond having totally misconstrued Kgosi’s relationship with Bobo, he must also educate you about dealing with primates in general--

Number one--There is no fear at all in being naked in front of a primate since they are always nude.

Number two--Morning breath is not a consideration given that they smell like bananas from morning til night.

Number three--Lack of deodorant is not a problem since Avon introduced the body wash fragrance " Eau de Tree.”

Number four--Bobo has never fallen over on a date, and unlike some other humans, she has never shot one of her hunting partners.  I do wish however that I was able to cure her of the habit of repetitively picking at my underarms.

In closing, I wish you well in your quest for a new heart Mr Chainlink.  I strongly suggest that you also discuss with your surgeon the possibility of a total radical personality transplant.  I understand that medical science is doing remarkable things these days.  You could receive considerable improvement from an infusion of even small bits of tissue taken from great gun- toting, freedom-loving African patriots like  Muammar Gaddafi and Idi Amin.

 Research Gone Awry

     Proceedings in the American Academy of Science this month report a study done by Cornell University researcher Sean Myles and his co-workers who investigated the crossbreeding habits of grapes. In the article published on January 24, 2011, he trumpets that "Lack of Sex among Grapes tangle the Family Vine.” Dr. Myles developed a gene chip that tests the genetic variation among grapes and much to his surprise found that, “75% of all grapes varieties were related as close as parent to child and brother to sister. Previously we've thought there were several families of grapes but now we have found that all the families are interconnected and there is one large family.”

Kgosi’s Komment-- Kgosi thinks the outcome of this study showing that all the families were closely interconnected might have been totally different if Dr. Myles had not gathered all his grape samples from the backwaters of Kentucky and the hills of Tennessee.

     Since he was once affiliated with this esteemed institution, Kgosi also cannot decide if it is most appropriate to be totally outraged that Dr. Myles received funding to study the sexual peccadilloes of Cabernet Sauvignon, or whether Kgosi should resubmit his previously rejected doctoral thesis at Cornell-- "An In-depth Analysis of the Mating Habits of Socially Awkward Rutabagas.”

DON'T MAKE AN ASH OF YOURSELF

     Sheriff’s deputies in Miami Florida report that burglars snorted the remains of a man and two dogs in the mistaken belief they had stolen illegal drugs.  The ashes were stolen in two urns from a woman’s home in Silver Springs Shores on December 15^th.  When 5 teens were arrested in connection with a different burglary in a nearby home, it was learned by authorities that the suspects snorted  the ash thinking it was cocaine, when in fact it was the charred remains of the woman’s father and two Great Danes.  Sheriff's spokesman Judge Cochran said, “Once they realized their error, the suspects discussed returning the remaining ashes but threw them in a lake instead because they thought their fingerprints were on the containers.”

Kgosi’s Komment—Although the Botswana constitution is silent on the issue of making a chaw out of bat guano or Great Dane meat, this heinous Florida error would never happen here since there are very stiff penalties for eating, chewing, smoking or snorting anything that is left of Mom, Dad, Grannie or Gramps.  

Kgosi