Knowledge is Only Power if we use it

If you had asked me two months ago to point out Zambia, Zimbabwe or Botswana on a map, I probably would have taken a moment and considered whether or not you had created fake countries to fool me. I can't speak for all Americans but I do believe that many of us know very little about our world, our environment, our fellow people , or Africa specifically. The unfortunate reality is that most people don't want to know. Africa (or Cambodia or Bolivia, the places I went last year) are too far away and too different to our way of life. As I spend my days uncovering that which is foreign to me, I have also learned of sad realities the world is facing - poverty, disease, and environmental destruction - and the beautiful nature and goodness hidden in far corners of the world. With this knowlege I now have the responsibility to pass it on, hoping my words will inspire someone to explore, embrace and get involved with everything that lies out of their comfort zone - maybe to even help change the world I am not sure I can personally make a difference, but I believe we can.




Antelope Park in Zimbabwe doesn't have antelopes, but it does have Lions. Due to the rapid decline in the Lion population (90% over the last 30 years due to feline HIV and hunters) this organization hand rears Lion cubs, in an effort to not save one, but to save the species. The offspring of the hand reared lions will have had no human contact and can then be released into the wild. (www.antelopepark.co.zw) So for $125 I spent the morning walking with Lion cubs, as they cuddled up to my legs and posed for pictures. In the afternoon I watched a lion feeding where 5 gigantic male lions battled it out for a piece of meat that lay right in front of me (with a fence seperating us of course.) Over the next two days I did an additional lion walk, some horseback riding (where I stuck to walking) and drank lots of Antelope Parks coffee (because it was free!)



We headed from Antelope Park to Matapos National Park, situated next to the town of Bulawayo. Early the following morning we met our guide, Ian Armour, a 3rd generation Zimbabwean, stood out in his short shorts and high socks, sporting safari colors over his weathered white skin. He is so passionate about wildlife that he has appeared on several television shows, and told us all about it on our way to find some Rhinos. The knowledge I was made aware of that day is that the Rhino population is also in serious decline, and the black rhino will soon be extinct if something is not done. The trouble, we were told, is that a rhino horn can be sold for about $500,000 (ussually to asians who believe it will enlarge the size of their junk), so poachers will do anything to get the horn. It is hard to blame the poor man, who has nothing to lose already for killing an animal to make money for his family, but the sad truth is that the demand remains. All of the rhinos we saw that day had no horns because in an effort to save the species Ian has tranquilized the animals and cut off the valuable commodity (it is the same material as finger nails), but it still hasn't stopped the poachers from taking even the littliest stump they can get. The only way Ian suggests we can solve the problem is to legalize the trade of rhino horn, they can then be properly harvested, and eventually the demand will go away. We were able to get right next to some rhinos, who Ian had "known" since he was a child, and take pictures.




That day we also went to a local village within the park and met their animated chief, 80 years old with a lot of spunk, who (through translation) told us the story of how he almost got killed by a leopard but was saved by a passing white man. He thanked our ancestors for his life, and then let us wear the stinking outfit while his tribe performed a local dance. He also told us that 5 of his 10 children had died of AIDS, and that at least 1/2 of the beautiful grandchildrenchildren who had just performed for us also had the disease. While statistics say that 50% of Zimbabwe has the AIDS virus, locals believe it is more like 80%. And since medications are so expensive, most people would rather use the money to buy food for their families, and therefore do not have a fighting chance to live very long.




On December 31st we made our way to Victoria Falls, arriving in town just in time for the fesitivies. What we later learned to actually be quite a nice hostel, looked like a scene straight out of woodstock with tents, young people, alcohol, sex (noted by the shaking/moaning tent) and drugs everywhere. We spent the evening playing silly drinking games, throwing eachother in the pool and dancing to strange techno beats. The following day we headed to the falls and took in it's monumental power, with water debris pouring into the air and thousands of tons of rushing water pushing over the edges, all right at your feet (literally - there are no fences seperating you from a swim.) Speakihg of swimming, while we all had our adrenaline pumping activities scheduled for the following day we learned of a fellow overlander (what we call people travelling in overland trucks) who had been the last of her friends to do a bungee jump that day, escaped with her life when her bungee cord snapped and she was pulled down grade 2 rapids with a cord tied around her ankles. (check out the video on you tube, "bungee cord snaps in zimbabwe.") Needless to say we cancelled our bungee jumps, and just did white water rafting, gorge swings, flying foxes and ziplines instead (which were also totally budget, but amazingly fun.) That night we feasted at Boma, a carnivores paradise, gorging ourselves on warthog (the best meat I have ever had), Eland, Buffalo and crocodile.




The last three days have been spent at the Okavango Delta, in Botswana, a beautiful marshland where our local guides (called polers) used long sticks to guide our mokoros (long canoes made out of trees known as sausage trees) through the reeds (while you get slapped in the face with them constantly). The days were too hot to do anything so we sat around our campsite played cards, read, slept and just generally melted. The mornings and evenings were spent doing game walks (where we saw a lot of animal poop, mud and tracks, but not a lot of animals) and sunset cruises. The best part was holding onto the wet reeds, letting them go just in time to get your fellow boatmate right in the face or racing the boats next to you. The last night our polers performed some local songs around the campfire, and I showed everyone how to make smores. Today we are off to Etosha National Park in Namibia.