Recent Ramblings: To Cape Town and Back Again

Though lengthy, this post is a bit more hurried than we'd like as we are scrambling like maniacs to catch up on things and get ready for our next and biggest (longest) trip over the break between semesters. (Poor us, eh!?) We took advantage of the time lull between the execution of UB final exams and the completion of the arduous process of soliciting approval for and submitting final grades by heading out of town. We've just returned from a 2-week camping trip, travelling in our new rig from Gaborone to Cape Town, South Africa and back whilst (!) stopping at as many places along the way as we could manage.

In a nutshell, the trip was like entering the world of fractals. The further along the path you go, the more you realize there is to see, and myriads of alternative paths unfold before your eyes. Our world is always like that, but it is easy to forget this as we settle into our tiny corner of existence. Travelling allows us to remind ourselves that there is great abundance of some kind, anywhere we look.

Red Hardebeest with calf at Mokala National Park

Our first stop was at Mokala National Park just south of the City of Kimberly in the Northern Cape State of South Africa.  Mokala is one of South Africa's newer parks, being composed of retired ranches in 2007 and interestingly, replacing Vaalbos National Park, which was "deproclaimed" due to diamond prospecting rights. Mokala is the Setwana name for camelthorn (Acacia erioloba), kameel being the Afrikaans name for giraffe. Our campsite was one of only five located within view of a waterhole visited by wildbeest, impala, rhebock, and lots of birds.  We spent a lazy day touring the 70 km of dirt road, admiring the abundance of antelope, warthogs, and sociable weaver nests scattered throughout the park, and added a number of new birds to our knowledge base.  It must have just been the calving season because very single red hardebeest we saw had a nearly newborn calf nearby.  Most of the parks in South Africa mandate that you remain in your car at all times except at designated view points and picnic spots, etc., and  unfortunately Mokalo has very few of these.  There is a friendly staff and a lodge where you can buy a cold beverage, but the feel is extremely formal and the view from the lodge is of the manicured lawns surrounding the upscale rental chalets with warthogs happily munching on the turfgrass.  Amusing, but not exactly our favorite type of scenery (well, except for the warthogs.)  So by the second morning, we were ready to move on in search of more unruly landscapes, and we were up at dawn for the day's journey to Karoo National Park.

Caracal as seen on our night drive
(okay-I took this photo in the museum) :)

We had chosen Karoo as a stopping point both because of its location midway between Mokala and Cape Town, and because it offers hiking trails and we wanted to stretch our legs and explore the landscape on our own after so much mandatory time in the car.  Karoo National Park encompasses both rolling plains and eroded mesas of sand and mudstone that were once part of a vast and ancient seabed and are rich sources of the fossils of primitive reptiles and amphibians.  The Karoo is the largerst ecosystem in South Africa and this vast, harsh landscape is typified by an extremely diverse assemblage of diminutive shrubs, forbs, and grasses, reminding us very much of the great Mohave desert of  the southwestern U.S.  In the Nama Karoo Biome, where the Park is located, plants have tiny leaves often reduced to barely visible scales, but to the eastern and southern reaches of this ecosystem were there is slightly more moisture from fog and more regular rainfall, succulent plants dominate. When the rains are good, vast eruptions of color burst from the deceptively simple-looking landscape.

Jon and leopard tortoise
 at Karoo NP campground

Jan Daniel and a southern rock agama

Despite our hopes for hiking, we arrived to the news that the Park had just reintroduced (ten days prior to our arrival) eight lions (2M, 2F, and 4 cubs), and the trails were closed to ensure the safely of all park visitors. The Park still offers three two-hour, ranger-led hikes per day in the foothills near the Park reception.  We signed up for two of these: a late morning and dawn hike, and were pleased by the knowledge and enthusiasm of Jan Daniel, our gun-toting guide and protector on these saunters.  We learned a lot about the diversity of the landscape and the many uses the early utilizers of this landscape found the plants offer. We also went on a nightdrive and were lucky to see a caracal with a fresh kill, a porcupine with its peppered spines bristling across the low shrubs, an ardwolf loping quickly away from a termite mound due to our approaching vehicle, several especially gorgeous black-backed jackals curled and waiting for action here and there, and the briefest glimpse of the banded tail of a small-spotted genet, an agile cat-like predator of birds and small mammals.  We also spent an entire day driving and admiring the vast mesa tops through which lions now again roam.

Rich in rainbows at Karoo National Park

The campground facility is very nice with a communal kitchen complete with stoves and sinks, and an amazing bath house, and huge leopard tortoises roam freely throughout the area, making inspections of the underside of the car necessary before moving.  Because the lions were reintroduced, the park installed electric "predator-proof" fencing around the entire 170-kilometer perimeter.  In addition, all public facilities within the park (lodges, chalets, pool, housing, campground, visitor's center and museum) are encircled by predator-proof electric fencing.  There is much to say about fencing in Africa, not the least of which is the issue of collateral damage, but I will have to defer that discussion to a future post.  Much of this work was still under completion while we were there so the bird blind was not open for public use.  We were told that the lions were doing well, having been fed only on the first day after their release and making their own kills since that time.

After our third night at Karoo, we loaded up the car for the last leg of the trip to Cape Town on the N-1, which was one of the most stunning car trips I have ever experienced. We gassed up in the small town of Laingsburg, where we were surprised to stumble across the Laingsburg Flood Museum, which documents the 1981 flood that,with little forewarning, drowned over 100 people and wiped out much of the town.  The museum contains many interested photographs and the windows are creatively decorated with items deposited by the river as the floodwaters withdrew.  As we neared the more populated regions of the western cape, the N-1 entered a region of multiple rugged mountain passes, with fertile river valleys with wineries, fruit and olive plantations winding through jagged layers of mountain peaks sporting succulent karoo vegetation on their lower slopes. We were catching tantalizing little glimpses of amazing plants like butter tree (Tyledodon paniculatus), but unfortunately there were few safe places to pull over and admire the scenery and we were forced to move through rather quickly.

Two of my favorite things:
Jon and buttertree in the succulent Karoo

Laingsburg Flood
 Museum window

Before we knew what was happening, we were coming into town and had to focus all our efforts onto navigating traffic correctly through the City and along the Port, down to the Cape Peninsula and along hair-raising and wildly-curving coastal roads with stunning views of the ocean below and amazing protea-studded, steep hillslopes above, while dodging bicyclists and other shiny, happy people (pedestrians and runners) through Malibu-Beach-like communities along the way. We finally arrived safely at the Imhoff Caravan Park near the small town of Kommetjie on the western peninsula where we had been able to secure a reservation for a tent space.  The Caravan Park was nice enough with lots of open campsites, and within a short walk to the beach and just north of the southernmost Unit of Table Mountain National Park.

The Road to Cape Peninsula

We decided to spend just one day in the City of Cape Town, reserving the rest of our time for reveling in the natural beauty surrounding us.  We drove to the nearby town of Fishhoek on the eastern side of the Cape Peninsula, and after seeking and finding what seemed to be a safe place to park, we headed to the train station to buy a ticket.  The ticket office was packed with shoving people eager to board the train, and when we asked when the train was leaving we were told "Now!", so we quickly hopped into the first car we came upon and then proceeded to wait approximately 20-25 minutes as more, more, and even MORE people were crammed into the car. We were standing near the doors where I could easily reach a pole to hold onto, and so many people were crammed into this open area that at one point I had to turn my baseball cap around backward to save space. There was not a private armpit, hip or thigh in that compartment by the time the train began to move on  its one-hour journey into the heart of the City. Shortly after our launch, we noticed warm guitar notes and a deep voice issuing gospel tunes from a region of the car that we couldn't see. I asked the fellow next to me and he confirmed that someone was indeed playing guitar in the car but he could not explain how there was room enough for that.  Many people in the car formed a chorus for well-known songs such as "Amazing Grace."  As the car slowly emptied out somewhat as we paused at stations closer to the City Center, we could see the musician, who was blind and sold the last of his supply of CDs before we could reach him.  Suddenly we were there and dumped out of the train, still dazed by the intensity of the experience.

View of Cape Town from Table Mountain

It is impossible to describe all the sights, sounds, opportunities and contrasts of Cape Town in a reasonable amount of time. Suffice it to say that we wandered about admiring the markets, restaurants, architecture, sounds (many languages), smells, and all kinds of dramas.  We were able to drop in at an Internet Cafe (translation: used bookstore with one computer for use for a fee) and check messages, and Jon was able to respond to a couple of recommendation requests, which are a constant, short-turnaround responsibility in his career life. We ate a nice Indian meal with a fabulous view of the street-life below. And we we still had time to catch a taxi to the Aerial Cable Car (Diana: you should have been there!) for a lift to the top of Table Mountain and its stunning views of the City and surrounding shorelines, islands, and oceans.  We left Table Mountain before we wanted to as we had to find a taxi back to the train station, catch the train back to Fishhoek, find our car which was thankfully intact, and drive back to the caravan park before dark.

African penguins at Boulder Beach:
don't they look like statues?

We spent all of the next day on the Cape Peninsula, much of which is encompassed within Table Mountain National Park.  First we stopped at Boulder Beach to look at some seabirds and visited an African penguin colony managed by the National Park.  This was a delighful experience. The park has erected a raised boardwalk above the dunes that the penguins occupy so that they can be viewed with minimal disturbance. It was amazing to watch these creatures waddle about and very hard to control the number of photographs we took!

Overlook at the Cape of Good Hope

Within the southern reach of the park, we took a gorgeous stroll to a precipitous overlook on the Cape of Good Hope near the southern tip of the Peninsula, explored some limpet-filled Atlantic tidepools, and admired coastal ostrich and lovely herds of an antelope called Bontebok, which, until recently, was on the brink of extinction but is currently rebounding throughout the region.  The Cape of Good Hope is that rocky point we all learned about in elementary history where ships rounded the continent and began to sail more eastward than south and where Portuguese explorer Bartolomeu Dias established the a direct trading route with the far east way back in 1488. Contrary to intuition, however, it is not the southernmost point of the continent.

After leaving the Cape the following morning, we traveled west along the southern coast through the expansive suburbs radiating out from Cape Town. Perhaps the poignant of the sights is passing through Cape Flats, one of the largest Townships in the region and the forth largest in South Africa with well over a million people living there. For those who don't know, Townships are the living areas designated for non-whites under the Apartheid era. They are still inhabited today and exist outside every town we passed through, though they vary in terms of overall size and the type of structures present and the amount of space each shelter (home) occupies.  Many of the homes in Cape Flats, as is true of many of the Townships near Urban Centers, are mostly constructed of a patchwork of salvaged corrugated tin strips fastened together in various ways.  The roofs, also constructed of tin slabs, are often held down with old tires, bricks, or boulders. The structures are usually located too close together for any kind of privacy and many lack plumbing and any other kind of sanitary services or facilities.  In other neighborhoods within this Township, homes are purportedly more typical suburban-style stucco houses.  Although many visitors take tours of the Townships during the day, they are purportedly too dangerous to visit at night.  It is hard to overlook the reality that the lives of the people in the Townships support the lifestyles of those who live elsewhere.  Every time we stopped at a gas station or store I wondered where the person serving us lived and how they managed in life. In our travels, we never met an impolite or unkind person, and many people seemed incredibly happy and cheerful in their work, often to the point of exuberance.

Young penguins at Betty's Bay

Betty's Bay penguin colony

Once we left the City and suburbs behind, we began stopping here and there again to explore.  We came to Betty's Bay, where we viewed another huge penguin colony of over 8,000. This is the most successful land-based breeding colony due to the steady food supply and relative lack of disturbance. Nesting season is mostly over by now and many of these birds were actively molting, which means they are stuck on land and can't swim or fish. We noticed three late downy young near the entrance of the burrow, however.  As we were leaving, we spotted a couple of fisherman on a rocky outcrop casting their lines within the preserve.  Jon stopped at the preserve HQ to ask why the fisherman can fish so close to the colony with all the abundance of alternative locations nearby. He was told that the preserve is trying to ban fishing but has been unsuccessful thus far.  The representative there also explained that many of the young penguins that hatch late die of starvation because their parents cannot feed them, but the preserve removes most of the latecomers to a brood facility and re-releases them once the moulting season is over in order to boost the colony just a bit more.

Another town we stopped in (Hermanus) down the coast a bit is a famous whale-viewing location for southern right whales complete with an official "Whale-Crier" who wanders about blowing his horn and announcing the latest sightings.  The southern right whales are abundant in the sheltered bay during the winter but most of the whales have moved on this time of year so we didn't see any, but did have a very nice walk along the coast.
 

Shipwreck near the southern tip of Africa

We decided to head for and spend the night in the Town of Agulhas because it is located near the southern-most tip of the African continent where the Atlantic and Indian Oceans converge.  On a whim we decided to leave the paved road for a gravel road on route to Agulhas, and were delighted to hop out of the car and explore a protea-studded hillslope of Fynbos vegetation.  Fynbos occurs in a narrow band along the southern reaches of the continent where is is bathed in coastal fog.  There are three major plant forms in this community: heaths, Cape reeds, and proteas.  Although Fynbos occupies only about 6 % of the land in southern Africa, it includes about half of the plant species in this portion of the continent and approximately 80% of the species occur nowhere else.  After exploring this hillslope we continued on our journey across the farmlands and topped one hillslope to arrive in a Village that made us think we were back in the Czech Republic!  Indeed, we later discovered that Elim was settled as a Moravian Mission in 1824.  At present this municipality is sill owned and managed by the Moravian Church of south Africa and many Khoi, a indigenous cape population, remain there today.   Thatching is the Town's greatest trade and it is world renowned for these master craftsmen. The town also contains a mill that still uses South Africa's largest water wheel.

Indian Ocean encounters the Atlantic Ocean
at the southern tip of Africa

Kassiebaai

Sunset at the southern tip

Coffee in the lighthouse cafe

In late afternoon we arrived at Cape Agulhas and were able to rent a small cottage with a view of the Indian Ocean and the Agulas lighthouse, and just a short walk to the southernmost tip of the continent for the sunset.  In the morning, after a cappicino in the lighthouse restaurant, we headed out for one of the final parks on our destination-De Hoop Nature Reserve.  Not too far east of Cape Agulhas, we took a slight detour to take in the Village of Arniston and the centuries-old fisherman's cottages of Kassiebaai, with unspeakably beautiful turquoise waters, sparkling white sands and white-washed, thatch-roofed cottages overlooking the sea.  This entire community is a designated national monument.  On the outskirts of this community too was the ever-present township, but the air is fresh and clean here and the homes more widely-spaced, and we saw dozens of children playing together and eating honeycomb while they giggled at us as we passed through.

De Hoop Nature Reserve Dunes

The De Hoop Nature Reserve is about 34,000 hectares and encompasses shoreline next to the adjacent De Hoop Marine Protected Area which extends five nautical km out to sea.  It is managed by CapeNature, a public institution with statutory responsibility for biodiversity in the Western Cape. The campground is located at the top of a huge "vlei" (shallow seasonal or intemittent lake) that is located in a gorge and blocked from the sea by natural coastal dunes.  The lake is often filled with huge flocks of wetland birds including greater flamingo and great white pelicans, to name just a couple.  The fynbos of this area is specialized due to the coastal location and limestone soils and supports an amazing number of endemic species.  We saw both puff adders and Cape cobras as we were driving a loop in the park, so we were a bit more timid about trapsing through the Fynbos than we might have been otherwise. We saw some new birds here and we excited to see two hammerkop nests: great big messy globs of sticks and flotsam with a sneaky side entrance.  The campground facilities include a communal kitchen complete with stoves, pots, pans, utensils, a refrigerator and a freezer, which was raided by baboons one day during our visit. Luckily we hadn't placed any food in the facility.  Much of our time there was windy and on the last day it began to sprinkle late in the afternoon.

We left De Hoop the next morning in steady rain, and at one point we were behind a huge flock of sheep that filled the road for about 20 minutes before the shepherd aided by his skillful sheep-herding dogs, urged the sheep to one side so that we could get by. On one hillslope we caught sight of two blue crane, the national bird of South Africa, with two young. We left the rain behind as we crossed the first mountain pass north of De Hoop, and by the time we crossed the towering Groot-Swartzberg mountains, we had beautiful blue skies. We pulled over to admire a klipspringer on a rock outcrop and to scramble around on a few rocky precipices admiring all the amazing alpine plants, and then headed into the deep canyon leading down from the crest to the tiny Victorian town of Prince Albert.

Towering walls of the Groot-Swartberg pass.

Hail shelter in Prince Albert

We pulled in just a few minutes before the tourist information office closed in search of a self-catering room, and suddenly ended up with an entire beautiful house for less than the price of most U.S. Interstate Exit-ramp motels.  This was on the edge of town and we had a view of the foothills to the mountains, but steady wind and rain discouraged us from using either of the porches and accumulated fatigue urged us to sleep quite early.  In the middle of the night we were suddenly awakened by fierce pounding on the tin roof by thousands of golf-sized hailstones, flashes of lightening and booming thundering. Peeking out of the windows, we could see the ground was solid white with accumulated hailstones.  We were lucky indeed that we decided not to sleep in our tiny tent that night!!!!

Upon leaving Prince Albert, we were closing the loop for the journey back home and headed back to Mokala National Park for one last night spent in the wonderful fresh air and under the stars. We quickly reclaimed our familiar campsite and chatted with a couple from Johannesburg who were as relaxed and relieved to leave the City behind as we were. We enjoyed seeing the wildebeest with their wild bucking gallop down into and just as quickly out of the waterhole, and the warthogs wallowing in fresh mudholes left by recent rain.  The next morning we left early and stopped at one big shopping center to buy a few supplies for the car to the tune of "Baby, It's Cold Outside" and the twinkling of Christmas lights and huge displays of ornaments and imported chocolates. The remainder of the trip was mostly uneventful and the border crossing was smooth except for a slight misunderstanding with a grandma who asked us to transport herself, her daughter, and two grandchildren across the border and back to Gaborone!

By the time we came home, worry about our house and family and friends was mounting, so although traveling is wonderful, it was a bit of a relief to return to base camp and touch base with loved ones. Sadly, the news that one of our dear friends had passed from physical presence in this world awaited us.  This should have come as no surprise as she had fought cancer for over a year and had been cared for at home by her steadfast husband with the assistance of friends, family, and hospice in recent weeks. But still, STILL: hearing that one so true, so unmatchable, and indescribably good was taken from us (yes, I know I am being self-centered here), could not, and still cannot, be easily accepted.  Nancy is as fundamental to the Tucson landscape as the Santa Catalina Mountains and the Santa Cruz river and I cannot, shall not, contemplate the desert southwest without her.  This is why we must try, as best we can, to enjoy each and every moment, smile, touch, and sound of laughter while we can, and revel in what good we find while we can.

Thanks for bearing with me through these tales-sometimes it all seems like a dream and writing these those helps me fixate these things in my mind.  Stay well dear ones!

WInding Down My First Semester at the University of Botswana

Currently, my first semester at the University of Botswana is coming to a close. What a strange experience it has been, starting with wandering around the biology building and wondering where, what, when and when I would be teaching, and many other details about the classes. There is incredible bureaucracy surrounding everything from making a photocopy to other minor aspects of the job, and I quickly learned that I would  not be using Powerpoint as a teaching tool (which would have been useful for illustrating graphs in biostatistics), and on and on.  I eventually learned the ropes and things became smoother.  And I am finally finished designing Biostatistics lectures in the evenings.

My Office

Each day started with crossing perilous streets and then a walk through massive construction sites – after a rain, the puddles were quite impressive. Several huge new buildings, including a medical school, are being built by Chinese construction companies – there are many worries about this because the campus infrastructure (internet access, photocopying, water, etc.) are already stretched beyond the breaking point and there are major concerns about construction quality. As we’ve mentioned before, the University Campus is a chaotic jumble of buildings scattered about with deep cement trenches (used to carry the overland flow of water during storms) zig-zagging here and there in unsuspecting places. The pedestrian must always be aware!  There is always a very long line to get into the library because students are ONLY allowed to have a laptop in the library – no laptop carriers, daypacks or other parcels, so the line to check these items can be a half an hour long. 

UB has been officially proclaimed a "world class" University by the government.  The nation and the University are very young and so the rush to become “world-class” may be unwise when the institutions are not in place to support such an endeavor.  Perhaps when a University is proclaimed to be world-class, then the many problems that exist are suddenly unacknowledged and cannot be addressed.  Apparently the HIV rate on campus is ~50%.  Partying is ever-prevalent and wild, which is unwittingly encouraged during the semester because the final exam is worth 60% of a class grade, so many students are not concerned about their grades until finals.  This is a society that on the surface is conservative but underneath is promiscuous -- this may promote the spread of HIV.  In many ways, society's messages are conflicting.  For example, Priscilla and I do not hold hands or show affection in public because it is considered rude, but sex is an important element in advertising of all kinds, and condom advertisements are prominently displayed and dispensers are ubiquitous (although usually empty).

Communication on campus is an interesting process.  Offices do have phones but there are no answering machines and these phones can NOT call cell phones.  Most people have cell phones, but because air time is quite pricey people do not want to make the call.  There are three cell phone service providers in Botswana, and making a call from one network to another is more expensive, so only people that you share a cell phone provider with will want to call you at all.  Avoiding making the call is a national art form! Though they tell you they will call at a certain time, they don't -- they are always waiting for YOU to call to them -- this makes campus communication difficult.  (OK -- there are exceptions -- a few people do call when they say they will.)

Food booth just off campus.

There is a faculty lounge on campus that serves huge portions of samp, pap, fried chicken and beef stew.  Just off campus there are roadside tables where people sell take-away Styrofoam containers of samp, pap, fried chicken and beef stew, and during the lunch hour (1PM-2PM) loads of people stand around in the sun eating.  How do they do it in dapper clothes with no water and wimpy plastic forks?  This is a culture where the idea of a restaurant was unknown until ~40 years ago and there are none near campus.  I have also never known of anyone to bring lunch to campus, and there are no cooking facilities in the Biology Dept (not even a microwave, coffee maker, or teapot) so food remains an enigma.  This is also a culture where people dress to the nines.  The faculty in the Biology Dept. are dapper, indeed, complete with cufflinks and polished shoes – the works. 

The biology building is designed for ease of lockdown – for the pre-meds perhaps?  There are many technicians for each lab in white coats (I will have one next semester for Plant Tax) – a cheerful bunch.  The students are also often in white lab coats.  However, the building usually appears to be quite empty except for fleets of women custodians in green who are washing everything and are very jolly during their breaks.  I am the only person in the building who keeps their door open  – I frequently get visited by students that are endlessly looking for various people.  I do occasionally spot a colleague, and  when I do see one, everything is quite jovial.  When I first arrived I was eager for collaboration – because my time is short, assisting another project would have been ideal.  I soon found out that this was not to be and we have started our own research.   Even after a semester I really have no idea what anybody in the Department does and have not met a bunch of them.

My Biostatistics class.

In the Biostatistics Class that I taught, there were 50 students; we met on Mondays and Wednesdays at 8am for class and Tuesdays at 3pm for lab.  For the lab, I had the help of a great demonstrator (like a TA) named Bonolo who, most importantly, took over the photocopying task (if I got the materials to her a week ahead of time).  She also instructed me on how to manage the lab-Bonolo does not mess around-and she often told me that I should be tougher with the students!  In class I tried to engage the students – to get them to talk at all about anything.  The only student who would willingly talk in class was a foreign exchange student.

Biostatistics lab.

Teamwork

In lab, the students would do the problems and a talk a lot to each other and sometimes I could engage them as I wandered around the lab.  After I made some jokes about white lab coats in a stats lab, the white lab coats gradually disappeared from lab attire.  This was a Biostats class without the use of a computer package so the calculations we had to perform seemed endless, but it was a nice group of students and we all made it through.  They all did quite well considering that biology students take a LOT of biology classes at UB.  it is common for a student to have 5 or 6 lab classes each semester.  It is clear that this is way too many classes as it doesn't not allow the students time to engage in other activities such as research.

Bonolo

This week, the month-long finals period commenced.  As mentioned, finals are mandated to be a minimum of 60% of the grade, which unfortunately fosters a climate of absenteeism during the semester.  Two weeks before the end of the semester, I submitted my final to a review board (Do not email – hardcopy ONLY, do not keep the final on your computer or flashdrive because of hackers!  So where to keep an electronic copy?).  There were many emails about finals' security.  The review board approved my final, but made me change a few things which slightly increased the amount of memorization involved.

After the revisions, I carried the final over to a coordinator who managed the photocopying and had the finals delivered to the exam room at the assigned time.  After grading, I submitted the finals to an examiner whom will assess my grading and then the Department will meet to discuss grades for all the students.  I will also be an examiner for the graded finals from Aquatic Biology.  In addition, a second final is to be ready to go for barely failing students to take, if necessary.

Just before finals month, I received an email with the invigilation schedule (http://mw2.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/invigilate) and was assigned to  invigilate both my final exam and another one.  Before, I have always received the invigilation notices less than 24 hours before the test, and due to conflicts, was not able to participate in invigilation.  For the first final I invigilated, I went to a large lecture hall with perhaps 400 students.  There was a host of invigilators.  Because many chairs were broken, there were not enough seats and the hall was hot and parts were very poorly lit.  The exams for two classes were alternated along the rows of desks. During the exam, I was asked to go to each student in the hall that was taking the biology final (there were 250 of them) and take the exam and separate out "Part B" and staple that into the back of their answer booklet.  I was the only invigilator that could do this because the aisles between the tables were extremely narrow and only I could squeeze through.  This took a long time with only staple frgaments and broken staplers.  The other class was a Stats class -- this final had two graphs.  Drawing perfect graphs is stressed in this educational system.  No graph paper was handed out with the Stats final.  So when each student came to the first graphing problem they raised their hand for graph paper.  The professor for this class stood facing away from the class so the other invigilators ran around delivering graph paper.  The instructor said "only one sheet at a time" which meant that when the students came to the second question they had to raise their hand again.  The front of the lecture hall was littered with broken table bases and busted podiums so like always -- be aware!  Things were much smoother for my final which took place with three other finals.  

The other class that I teach is called a “Tutorial”.  The Intro Biology class has 700 students, so there are smaller units called "tutorials" of 30 students each, which are all taught by a separate instructors.  These students are mostly pre-meds, and those that make it through their first year (which is designed to weed out less-motivated students) will continue to be pre-med majors, but there will be far less of them at that time.  I was notified that I was assigned to be teaching this class by a former Fulbright scholar who returned to the US before I came. He sent me an email about it after I’d been at UB for a few weeks.  It took me a while to figure out what the class was about, where it would meet, etc. and I never received a syllabus or any guidance for what the class should cover.  No classroom had been reserved for the class, so we met in the courtyard for a few weeks until we located an unoccupied lecture hall.  But figuring out what to do for Basic Bio is easy and this was an outgoing, bright and cheerful group of mostly motivated students.  These students have incredible tolerance for a curriculum fraught with problems. 

Intro Bio Tutorial.

One of the really pleasant places in the Biology Building is the Herbarium which is directed by the hard working and dedicated Mr. Muzila.  He has helped me identify many a specimen.  Unfortunately for me but fortunately for him he will be going to Sweden for his PhD next semester.  

Mr. Muzila in the herbarium.

I also have an undergraduate research student who is doing a greenhouse project on invasive species.  It is a requirement that all biology majors must conduct an independent research project during their senior year; however, it is difficult for students to find a faculty mentor and the equipment, infrastructure and funding for these projects can be a problem.  Also, because of the many biology classes that a major takes time is difficult to come by.  The undergrad research program is highly structured and the students have many time-consuming proposals and other assignments to write.  Speaking of equipment: so many things are busted -- Bonolo is a graduate student in Molecular Biology and she frequently complained that she could not make progress because everything was broken.  Likewise, the Biology storeroom for field equipment is a stunning collection of busted stuff. 

There are a good number of foreign exchange students on campus.  According to my foreign student, many of them are unhappy for a number of reasons that I won’t go into here, but one of them is that the food, which is part of their tuition, is unwaveringly samp, pap, fried chicken or beef stew!  But I haven’t met enough of them to know for sure what’s up.

We’ll that’s a short description of some of the life at UB.

Buying A Used Car in Gaborone-Stranger Than Fiction

(Jon's Narration)

Our New "Ride": note the spoiler!

We purchased our present car, a 1998 Toyota Saloon (=Corolla), before leaving the US from a former Fulbright and, after a long series of mishaps, finally got it functioning and on the road and us in the drivers’ seat on the wrong side of the road.  Around town, the car was "okay", although we would scrape and bang the bottom of the car on the gargantuan speed bumps installed to slow traffic on many of the major roads.  And each time we went out to the wilds, “low-rider” car prevented us from going some places and made other trips arduous as we crept over humps, gullies and washboard stretches.  If you’ve been reading this blog, you know about our “road from hell” when we went to the Limpopo. 

So one morning we drove over to Mogodishane where many of the used car dealers lurk.  Mogodishane is a former village that is now part of the growing burbs of Gaborone, and is located on the main road to Molepolole. The road is quite literally one big construction project, so that accessing businesses along the road entails driving around on ragged, rutted dirt access roads between the storefronts and the construction with orange cones, concrete barriers, and construction equipment and debris scattered everywhere.  The intersections have no functioning lights yet and people just take turns pulling out.  We were informed how the electrical people lay wires, the carpet (pavement) is laid down, then the water people come and tear it all up and lay pipe and carpet is laid down, and repeat...


This country is the size of Texas and has 2 million people so many things are very spread out with dusty barren lots all over.  Used car lots are an exception, however.  As many cars as possible are jammed onto tiny lots surrounded by razorwire-topped fences.    Because none of the cars have batteries in them, getting a vehicle out involves a long process of moving batteries and juggling vehicles around, and all is done at maximum leisure.  The first place we stopped at was “Auto Lanka”.  We had heard that the used car industry in Botswana was run by Sri Lankan's and this indeed seems to be the case, although they employ many Motswana's too.  We looked around at some 10-14 year old Toyota’s, Honda’s and Mitsubishi’s and what not.  The Sri Lankan guys were very friendly and helpful.  We liked a 2-door Pajero there, although we usually prefer 4-doors.  It was in good shape and we were happy with the smaller size as most of the 4WD vehicles here are either huge or very tiny (i.e. a Toyota Hilux which is basically Toyota Forerunner OR a RAV4 Mini).  These used cars are shipped from Japan and Singapore at about ten years old to supply the African market are are purchased in huge lots at auctions by Sri Lankans -- "globalization".  


We then went on and visited 6 or 8 more lots.  Reception varied.  If Motswana were there to greet us, the reception was mellow to the extreme or you could say none at all.  If we did manage to engage somebody, we were told that every used vehicle we asked about was a 1998 and it may or may not be an automatic, have 4-wheel drive, etc.   If Sri Lankan's were around, we may be feted and supplied with all kinds of information, or it was made clear up front that there was no interest in selling a car at this time.  Stock was random and limited and our favorite continued to be the 2-door Pajero.  We never did feel like we were going to get swindled and were not subjected to heavy pressure or manipulation unlike used car lots in other countries...  It was hot and we were sick of it (we do not go car shopping for entertainment).  We went to a restaurant right there called “The Hot Curry”, which had the same old beef stew or fried chicken and mealie-meal, BUT it actually had a another food item in this case:  roti... so we shared that along with some guava juice-the saving grace of Batswana cuisine.  

Auto Lanka

So we mulled it over for some days and then called up “Auto Lanka” and said we’d like to drive the Pajero over to an auto garage called “Superformance” (NOT a MIS-spelling) recommended by Pat and Karin.  When we arrived at Auto Lanka, the Pajero wasn’t ready but after hanging out for an imponderable amount of time during which enough people had wandered around, chatted, and hung out; enough batteries were switched around and vehicles wedged hither and thither; and then the Pajero was accessible.  One of the Sri Lankan guys came with us.  Superformance was across town giving ample opportunity for the test drive.  Our passenger was chatty so we discussed Kandy (his hometown and a memorable place): he’s homesick, and Botswana food is really-really rough for Sri Lankan's.   The approach to Superformance was a long line of cars wedged into a narrow road with a garage area totally packed with cars.  Leon, the proprietor of Superformance has a strong Afrikaans accent and likes to talk.  He really-really knows these vehicles and was favorable about the Pajero (although the 50,00km on the odometer was way-way too low) and then rambled on about all the issues with these vehicles, shady garages, etc.  A character.  His garage is jam packed with vehicles because of unpaid repair bills -- Leon has had some vehicles on his lot for seven years.  Nothing can be done with these vehicles.  

We returned to Auto Lanka and discussed the cash.  Not being a hardcore negotiator, I was happy with the price and Leon had said it was a fair price.  Of course the money would be wired to Rainbow (Pty) Ltd, which did not inspire confidence.  But the dealers were nice enough and offered us a 3-month warranty on the car, unlike any of the other dealers we visited.

Washing the Pajero before we drove it away-with our car salesman overseeing the operation in the background.

Just calling up the bank that evening to set up the transfer (and being put on hold) emptied the phone of Pula in no-time at all.  We then went away on a 4-day camping trip and when we returned found out that the money transfer had been successful.  We took a taxi out to Auto Lanka and the construction had moved on closing the access road.  After the initial standard requirement of a “Can you come back tomorrow?” upon our arrival, and our reply of “No!” (the taxi wait and taxi ride had been long), we got down the business.  The Pajero was already registered in our name and after we hung out for awhile and learned a little more about the life of a Sri Lankan in Botswana, the car was washed, plates were put on, a modicum of petrol was put into the empty tank and we were out of there.  There is actually a car manual and a GPS but they’re 100% Japanese with cute pictures.   We are excited by the spoiler on the roof (jeeps really need those) and in the back there is a 10cd player.  We’ll see if that works.  The vehicle is now at Superformance getting an aftermarket cooling system which is way better than the one that comes with the vehicle according to Leon.  We also purchased insurance on the Pajero today -- this is our fifth insurance policy in Botswana -- woah!  Now we are going to sell the Saloon.  So all you potential visitors: we now have 4-wheel drive+clearance so we can visit some parks that were inaccessible before.  But you have got to bring your tent!

Exploring Botsalano Game Reserve, South Africa

(Priscilla's narration)

The last few weeks we've stayed closer to home but have had some nice adventures nonetheless:  a couple of nice trips to survey mountain aloe near Molepolole; dinner theatre at the "No. 1 Ladies Opera House" where we saw "I, Claudia"; a night out at the movies to see "Eat, Pray, Love" and Ethiopian buffet afterward, walks to the Botswana Botanical gardens, and close encounters of the giraffe-kind at Mokolodi Game Reserve.  Despite these pleasures, the itch to leave Gaborone for lands further away was steadily mounting. So we decided to take our first camping trip out of the country to Botsalano Game Reserve in the Northwest State of South Africa.  We planned to leave on Friday morning and come back Sunday afternoon. As the week progressed our excitement grew and Thursday morning I set about putting things together for the trip. Unfortunately mid-afternoon I had a growing headache and felt nauseous. I thought if I took a nap it might just go away, but it seemed to get steadily worse and I was unable to sleep because of the headache. Jon finished packing for the trip as I writhed in bed or lay on the floor in an effort to feel the comforting coolness of the tiles.

By morning, after a night of vivid disturbing dreams, I was feeling only slightly better but decided to go ahead with the trip because I was so looking forward to a respite from Gaborone.  Because of my sluggishness, we didn't leave until about 7: 45AM just as traffic was reaching it's full peak of insanity, but luckily it is pretty easy to get on the A-1 and head south from our part of town.

We decided to cross the border at a small station near Lobatse, rather than at a bigger crossing to the south near Ramatlabama, because our guidebook said the views to the park were better from this direction. Bear in mind that I was still feeling very ill: I had the feeling that there was a water-filled glass sphere inside my skull that I was trying not to break, even the thought of sipping water made my stomach lurch, and I had the type of malaise that makes you feel as if nothing, absolutely nothing, matters.  As we approached the border crossing, it was obvious that we needed to stop and do something, but there was no directional signage and there were many small buildings and parking areas scattered about. The process of getting through the border is a muddled and confusing memory for me of going to and from various wrong offices several times, obtaining and giving up various pieces of stamped paper after showing our passports, temporary residence permits, car registration, and driver's permits to multiple people. There were 12-packs of condoms available for free on the outside of one of the buildings.  The clearest memory I have of the whole ordeal was the SA customs officer "suggesting" we buy him a cold beverage, which we did, and then we were on our way!

From the Botswana border we headed southeast into the Northwestern State in South Africa and passed a large wildfire moving up a canyon and along a ridge north of the road.  We could see thorn trees burst into flames as the front of the fire advanced. It was a cloudy day and we could see what appeared to be rain-bearing clouds building on horizon.  Upon reaching the small village of  Dinokana with its one tiny store and smattering of very modest habitations scattered about, we turned south and headed up an escarpment to a plateau with a purportedly stunning view of the broad valley below, but due to the cloudiness and growing haze, our view was limited. Along the roadside we could see scattered homes and farms of the very poor working class people of this region.

Thanks to the book "Guide to Greater Gaborone" by Alec Campbell and Mike Main, we were able to find the the Reserve easily, but it is worth mentioning that you must pass TWO incorrect signs indicating that you should turn to the left off the main road to get to the park. After about 23 km, we arrived at the correctly signed main entrance to the Reserve, which is located adjacent to the road on which we were driving.  Botsolano Game Reserve is just under 6,000 hectares of grasslands interspersed with bushveld and encompassing portions of one of the oldest volcanic craters in the world.  It is very inexpensive and seems to be an excellent choice for those hoping to avoid more expensive and luxurious venues.

Leopard tortoise

Upon reaching the park, I felt I just had to lay down somewhere so Jon quickly put up the tent and I climbed right in and slept fit-fully for several hours.  I woke about 2PM and then felt I could rally for a drive across the Reserve. The campground at Botsalano is pretty simple, but there are shady tentsites and there is a bathroom with running water that the monkeys like to frequent.  From the campground, there is a large network of very good roads from which to view wildlife.  Almost immediately, the beauty of the land captivated and cheered us both.  We were delighted to come across a leopard tortoise just minutes after leaving the campground. For those of you who don't know, I spent a good bit of time working with desert tortoise in Las Vegas, and, oddly enough, we fostered a lost pet leopard tortoise for several months in Fredonia several years ago. So I was delightful to see a wild leopard tortoise ambling though her native terrain.  For the rest of the three hour drive we were continually awed by the beauty of the landscape and the abundance of wildlife. Because it was overcast the colors of the grasses were brighter than usual and there were all shades of gold, russet, green and burgundy in the rich tapestry of numerous grass species.

We saw several antelope species we had not seen before: waterbuck, eland, gemsbok, and blesbok, as well as many herds of impala, springbok, and wildebeest, and scattered groups of zebra, kudu, warthogs,  and ostrich.  At the end of our loop, we stopped at a wildlife blind that was located on elevated posts above a waterhole. While we were there we saw several black-backed jackals (beautiful!) and a rhino with a baby came up to drink, along with many antelope. It was hard to tear ourselves away from this scenario, but we left just as it was getting almost too dark to negotiate the sloping ladder back to ground level.

As soon as we got back to the campground I felt that I had to rest straightaway and headed into the tent, leaving Jon to produce and enjoy dinner by himself. We were the only campers and it was wonderfully quiet.  I quickly fell asleep, only to wake up around midnight with a very full bladder.  I could hear an owl issuing three deep hoots periodically, and the sound of hooves, grunting and chewing.  I was wondering if the rhino mom and her babe, that we had seen at the waterhole and that Karin and Pat had seen near the campground several months ago, were grazing nearby. But it was mainly the thought of puff adders and spitting cobras along with 6 other venomous nocturnal snakes on the park wildlife list that had me procrastinating about my trip to the bathroom.  When I could wait no more, I unzipped the my door of the tent and turned on the headlamp to see if the rhino was in my intended path, and was greeted instead by four sturdy patchwork legs looming up into the darkness among the acacia trunks-a giraffe was in in the campground! :)

Storms rolled through intermittently the rest of the night, but none were very long-lasting or too severe. Dawn arrived bright and fragrant.  Upon emerging from the tent I walked out into a golden field nearby to look for rhino tracks and to see what the monkeys were up to.  I was a bit nervous, not wanting to startle a grouchy mommy rhino, so when I heard a sizzling sound and saw lightening stretch horizontally across the sky and end with a deafening kaboom, I nearly jumped out of my skin and found myself suddenly back by the tent watching Jon come laughing from the bathroom and saying "Wasn't that exciting?"  I was feeling much, much better after 12 hours of sleep interrupted only by more vivid dreams and our visiting giraffe, so we headed out right away.

Groovy of termite mounds

Hibiscus

Jon under a sociable weaver nest

This day was one of the most beautiful and enjoyable I have spent in a long time.  We saw five more leopard tortoise over the course of the day and, with small squalls moving through, the light and our views of the landscape changed almost every minute.  Looking across the landscape at one point we saw the most enormous nest in a camelthorn tree and felt we just had to check it out.  We traipsed across the grassland to the tree to discover it was a sociable weaver nest with hundreds of individual nests woven together. While there, we noticed some fresh dropping nearby and then realized they were full of dung beetles energetically cutting out little (well, not that little if you are a dung beetle!) balls of dung and rolling them away.

Dung beetles making dung balls

 When we first arrived at Botsalano, we realized that the low mounded rocks we had been seeing on our way to the park entrance were actually another type of termite mound that we had not seen before. Now we were seeing great groupings of these, which brought up the question "What do you call groupings of termite mounds?"  Such as a "murder" of ravens, or a "school" of fish, we decided it can only be called a "groovy" of termite mounds. If we are wrong about this, please do not enlighten us on this particular matter, because that is our story and we are sticking with it.  Later in the afternoon we stopped at a waterhole and were surprised to see a marsh terrapin emerge at the shallows, probably in wait for one of the African quailfinch to get careless while sipping water.  On

Waterbuck

Looking up at the sociable weaver nest

the way back to camp, we returned to the elevated hide, and saw enormous clouds blow in during the sunset.  Strong winds rocked the platform but it held, and the thatched roof protected us from the rain that suddenly came down like nails from the sky. As the rain subsided, a group of red hardebeests with two young came down for a drink.

Cape ground squirrel

Eland

We headed back to the campground looking forward to another night of peaceful slumber, but were greeted by a group of young people and the biggest tent I have ever seen. This tent had two side rooms and a porch.  I quickly whipped up a green thai curry over the campstove, and we dashed in the car to eat it just as another huge deluge hit.  We turned in early thinking we'd like to rise at dawn. Alas, that was not to be, primarily because our energetic campground buddies engaged in extremely loud and emphatic drinking games until, oh around 5AM.  Because they were speaking in Afrikkans we could not understand a lot of the hubub, but it culminated in one young man repeatedly screaming a fairly recognizable obscenity beginning with F as the other members of the party spoke in soothing voices.  When he reaped the full rewards of his efforts, he made a much bigger mess in both the women's and men's bathrooms than the monkeys ever did, rendering them unusable by the rest of us. I was gratified that there was no evidence that anyone in the crowd had a weapon. At least two members of his group (young ladies) were as unhappy with him as we were.

Biggest tent ever

On our last morning, we headed out on a small loop before heading home. Right away we came upon a group of eight giraffes right beside the road and spent a good bit of time watching two of the teen-aged males banging necks. I wish I could effectively explain how gracefully their movements are and how peacefully inquisitive they seem to be with their big soft eyelashes. They would stare at us for some moments and then start to chew while still calmly looking at us. I almost could not force myself to stop taking photos because each expression or pose seemed more appealing than the last.  We had some nice glimpses of new birds including a secretary bird, and a huge mixed flock of little birds that included two blackfaced waxbills that sat touching side by side for more than fifteen minutes as a big windstorm passed through. And even another leopard tortoise, bring the total to 7!! It was all we could do to force ourselves to leave the reserve at a reasonable hour for the trip home.

Youngster

When we left, we decided to make a very short side trip to the town of Makikeng so that we could get a taste of a small city in South Africa.  It was Sunday, but there was still a bit of traffic and the downtown is comprised of a bunch of one-way streets so it took a bit of driving around to find a place to safely park. We selected a fast-food restaurant in a strip mall beside a "Spar" grocery store. Though Spar is a chain grocer that is present in Gaborone, I thought I would check it out to see if items that are hard to come by in Botswana (like walnuts) might be available in South Africa. Unfortunately, it seems the grocery stores close at 1PM on Sundays, whereas the bars are open all day!  Jon ordered a small meal called a fish "swarma", which is something like fried fish strips in a pita with some cole slaw and I ordered a coffee, and we sat near the window to watch the street scene while we waited.  Right away, we noticed a serious of disagreements were taking place among a group of street gamblers (some kind of marble game that involves money?). They began slapping each other around and there were various disagreements involving shopping carts, which, I guess, must have to do with a deposit you get back when you return the cart, but this is only a guess.  The disagreement between two such individuals right in front of the window we were seated by escalated to the point at which one of them scrounged around in a garbage pail, found a bottle, broke off the neck, and began brandishing it as a weapon. When his opponent, ran across the street and returned with two big bricks, everyone in the restaurant including us, ran for the back of the restaurant. The manager went out and sort of monitored the situation without doing very much. It is unclear why, but eventually the weapons were tossed aside, and the discussions continued as Jon and I slipped out the door and down the shopping center to our car. Too bad these guys just can't bang necks and be done with it, eh?

The border crossing at Ramatlabama was still a bit confusing but much more efficient than the one near Lobatse.  In front of us was a small pick up truck with five elderly women with traditional figures and dressy clothes riding in the back.

Driving through the fire on A-1 in Botswana

On the route back to Gaborone we saw another fire; this one had crossed the A-1 and damaged many acres of cattle posts. A group of firefighters had apparently put out one advancing front but seemed to be ignoring others.

I never cease to be amazed at how much our lives and our impressions of life can change from day to day, hour to hour, even minute to minute. As we we pulled onto our street, we noticed that our entire street was parked up, including a line of cars totally blocking access to our house. We thought it must be a huge party or event of some kind at the Thapong Visual Art Center across the street from our place, and since we had a carload of camping gear to unload, we were concerned about access. A man who seemed to be directing party-goers approached our car and we asked how we could get into our driveway. He took down the licence numbers of the cars blocking our driveway, said he would ask them to move, but then walked into our neighbor's yard. Suddenly it struck me: this was NOT a party, but a memorial. We quickly called the man back and asked him to please forget the issue-we could just unload later-but he insisted and had people leave the gathering to move their cars. We could hear singing and spoken prayers next door as we unloaded our things.  As soon as Jon checked his email our worst suspicions were confirmed. Our neighbor, a UB professor who had just invited us to his daughter's graduation and 21st birthday celebration two weeks ago, had succumbed to an unnamed illness. He left behind a wife and four children: a son who just entered medical school in Ukraine, a daughter who just graduated from college, and another younger daughter and son. He befriended us from the start when we moved here, and our hearts are heavy with the sadness his family is burdened with at this time.  There is more to say, but is it too challenging for me at the moment.  With that, I hope that each and every person reading this tale will take a moment to remember what a gift each moment is, to the extent that you are able.  We miss you dear ones so take care!