Sweet Surprises

When it comes to travel, I love not knowing what to expect. It's true that I like to feel prepared for events and weather. I want to be wearing the right clothing and have enough money with me to cover my needs. I want to make sure my camera batteries are charged before the lions appear, and that I shower right before the 3-day stretch with no running water. But I love the feeling of not knowing what I might see when I'm already on my way.

Years ago, when I finished my Masters program, my friend Larry gave me two gifts that to this day, have always played a significant role in my trip planning; a beautiful beige globe and an image-filled travel book that dedicates two pages to every country in the world. Each entry features beautiful pictures, useful facts about each country's official languages, population, must see/do ideas and fun facts, among other handy information. I like to page through this book with my globe next to me on the couch the way most people like to watch HBO. About four or five years ago, I opened the book to Botswana. About thirty-five seconds after looking at the tall green grass and the razor sharp close-ups of ostriches, hippos and the Okavango Delta, I said to myself, “I want to go to Botswana.”

So here I am, and for the first time in my life, I decided to take a scenic flight. This granted me the opportunity to better understand the delta, where I was about to spend three days. The aerial view not only provided a larger perspective, but also allowed me to process the fact that there really were animals everywhere on the delta. As our single-engine plane got further from Maun, I began to spot them: groups of elephants bathing in the deep blue water, a giraffe couple walking slowly across the maize-colored grass, hundreds of water buffalo enjoying the late afternoon sun and hippos making their way slowly to the water.

Early the next morning, we were taken by speed boat to the mokoro jump-off point. Mokoros are dugout canoes, and there were several polers waiting to take us to the island where we would pitch our tents. One poler in particular caught my attention. I don't know if it was simply his hat or the way the he smiled with his eyes, but I wanted to remember him. When I asked if I could please take his picture, he said, “Yes, and then remember this number,” and pointed to his mokoro license plate. “Come with me. I am Beeeetee. I would like to be your poler! ” and flashed me a smile that shone brighter than the sun's reflection on the Botswana-blue water.

The days that followed were the most relaxing I have experienced since my arrival to Africa. I lazily dozed on and off as we glided in the mokoro through the tall reeds using the paths that hippos had created. The gentle splash of the water as the pole came down was soothing, and I would wake up and watch here and there when I would hear Beeeetee's voice. “Kubu gueeele” (There's a hippo over there.) “Lauren, tho! (elephant) Do you want to take a picture?” Beeeetee quickly picked up on my affinity for language, and began to teach me new words and phrases throughout the day. He would quiz me hours later, enthusiastically appreciative of my desire to learn Tsetswana. Sunrise and late afternoon walks were exciting and educational, and included Beeeetee picking up all types of poop with his calloused, bare hand, saying, “Can you guess what kind this is?”, proceeding to explain all types of details one can learn about the animal from their looking at their feces. And who knew that those beach ball-sized holes in the ground were dug by giant anteaters and inhabited by warthogs? Did you know that a warthog can kill an unsuspecting lion?

This morning I returned from the delta, and looking back on my experience, there are so many things to say that it's difficult to choose what to include and what not to. I reckon most trips to southern and eastern Africa include similar details, and it's true – it is amazing to walk through the plains and see masses of black and white stripes, infinite lines of wildebeest, and sneaky families of baboons bolting from one point to the next.

Thrilling does not do justice to what it feels like to hear elephants come crashing down on the trees and brush right behind your campsite at bedtime, or to watch them shake an entire palm tree and trumpet as you're finishing your egg at 6am. But if Beeeetee hadn't been there to tell me, “It's okay. There is a down wind. The elephants can't smell us so they won't charge”, perhaps thrilling might have turned horrifying. The Okavango Delta would not have been the same had I not had this caring, enthusiastic person to walk and talk with me and answer my questions. So when I remember the delta, what I will think of first is what made it the most memorable, and for me, that was Beeeetee.