Bushmen ... and ATVs

This morning we are going on a walk in the bush with local bushmen.  The leader is a man named Cobra, he was Jack's (of Jack's Camp) tracker.

You may remember that the bushmen were portrayed in "The Gods Must Be Crazy".  They speak a click language - one that is almost impossible for a Westerner to attempt to imitate.


All of the men are carrying spears and bows and arrows.  They coat their arrows in poison - and this is their hunting mechanism.  They are wearing a "uniform" issued by Jacks Camp - I'm not sure what they would be wearing otherwise.


They stop to examine each animal dropping that we see - they break it apart with their hands -  and discuss what the animal was, what it had eaten, where it was going, etc.  It is a lengthy discussion - and each person must have his say.  They stop to dig up a tubor that they tell us is extremely hydrating - the bushmen dig these tubors up and squeeze a small slice of it into their mouths.

Gavin wanted to try it too:

Along the way they dig up a few other tubor-looking things that are each to help certain health issues.  We take a break - and the bushmen show us how they start a fire with just 2 sticks  "Survivor" ;)
Cobrae finds a scorpion hole and starts digging for it .... 

Cobra wants to make sure we can clearly see how many eyes the scorpion has, so he squeezes the end of the tail where it stores it's venom - and puts it in his mouth in order to lick it clean!  (eek!)

The bushmen find lion tracks - and hear them not so far away - all the men (including Dad and Gavin) want to pursue the lions on foot - Mom and I veto that brilliant plan and we head back to camp.
In the afternoon, we all lay low - the heat is nearly unbearable.  I sit on the floor on the closed lid of my "throne" to read - the bathroom is the only place I can get even the most remote of breezes.  


After high tea, our afternoon activity is driving quad bikes/atvs.  My mom doesn't come along - just me, Dad, Gavin and the British couple.

We wrap ourselves in these ridiculous head scarves - it's necessary though as the dirt and dust are relentless.  


Dabe (our guide) stops us to play a game - he explains how disorienting the salt pans are - and that plenty of self-drivers get lost out there, never to be heard from again.  He walks out about 60 meters - and places a water bottle on the ground.  Then one at a time he blindfolds us and we're supposed to walk to the water bottle.  My Dad looks like he's doing great - and then suddenly takes this bizarre arc right and ends up a good 30 feet from the bottle.  Gavin ends up WAY right of the bottle.  Gary (the Brit) ends up between the two of them.  I head out, and land directly in front of the bottle :) and Julie (the other half of the Brit couple) ends up about 10 feet to the left of it.  Guess if we get lost in the desert, I'm the one in charge... ;)


Dabe then orchestrates some hilarious photos:

Me, holding up Dad and Gavin

Walk like an Egyptian....

After our photo shoot, we climb back on our bikes - only this time, the sun has set.  I have to wear my sunglasses to stop the dust from getting in my eyes - so I can barely see the road.  Gavin is on my bike as a passenger - and from time to time will cry out, "Poli Poli!" ("Slow Slow! in Swahili)  The funnier thing is that I understand what poli poli means.
From the distance we can see several fires lit in the middle of absolutely nowhere amidst the deserted salt pans .... and we come upon the entire rest of our camp - all of the guests and the staff.  They have set up a fire, a full bar, passed nibbles, a BATHROOM!!, and a great long table for dinner.  We have our dinner under the stars in the salt plans ....surrounded by....absolute stillness.

On the bumpy way back to camp, we spot a honey badger and a jackal.  And a hare gets caught in our headlights - he is disoriented and can't figure out how to get out of the lights.