Missing MJ Blues, Soccer Sadness and the Salt of Ma-kgadikgadi Tears

They say bad luck comes in three's, so I guess this was the week. It's been an eventful few days in Southern Africa and Los Angeles, and it certainly could have gone better.

The week didn't start off so bad, really. Last weekend, we went out two nights in a row for my roommate, Lauren's, birthday. On Friday this meant I met lots of locals and expats at the Bull and Bush pub and listened to a mediocre singer that bills herself "a professional" (In reality, it's karaoke, and not very good at that. At least she got into it and danced on the tables.). On Saturday, we tried out the Lizard Lounge Club after a dinner in nearby Riverwalk Mall. The club wasn't too happening, but we learned that Batswana reeeeeally like to dance in front of mirrors, and many of them wear winter scarves onto the dance floor--a curious choice of clubbing accessory. We also tried "springbok" shots for the first time--South African amarulla mixed with mint liquor, named after a deer-like animal. Yum! Sunday, after an unfortunate miscommunication in the combi (we ended up in the outskirts of Gabs; there were lots of cows), we met our boss for lunch, her son took us to a local bar, and then he joined us to watch "Hangover" at the movie theater. Then, during the week, the U.S. stunned Spain at the Confederation's Cup in South Africa, and qualified for the event final. I also found a great new source of satirical news, Hayibo which is the South African version of "The Onion". I was laughing, and life was good.



Then, easy as A-B-C, it all took a turn for the worse. South Africa lost to Brazil in the Confederation's Cup. Then, on Friday, I came into work to find out that Michael Jackson had died--it was the first thing my co-worker told me in the morning. The poor guy was preparing his comeback, which might have actually redeemed him from some of the weirdness that has engulfed him in recent years. So sad. I suppose the only thing to do is turn up the Thriller. Everyone was distraught--didn't matter if you're black or white. Our favorite taxi driver (who is--randomly--a singer/music producer on the side and is preparing to go to the U.S. to try and promote his music) was upset he would no longer have a chance to meet MJ in person. Over the weekend, our friend wouldn't go to dinner with us until she saw the news clip that promised more information on the cause of his death. And not only MJ, but Farrah Fawcett died too! How am I supposed to put the finishing touches on an AIDS workshop for UN employees with all of this (ok, that actually didn't go so badly, more on work in the next post)? C'mon sadness, just beat it!

But the disappointment didn't end there. Lauren and Kefi and I were planning to go up to the Makgadikgadi Salt Pans for the weekend, but our planning fell somewhat short of the mark. Honestly though, I can't even say "Makgadikgadi" correctly, so no wonder (the "kg" makes a hacking phlegm-like coughing sound). First, we thought a friend could drive us in his 4x4 (you can't take a 2WD through the sand around the pans), but that fell through the day before we were supposed to go. Then, all the 4x4's were booked through rental companies. Then, one was available, but absurdly expensive. We thought about starting with the man in the mirror and changing our...plans, but instead we decided to rent a 2WD and hope we could find a salt pans tour when we arrived.

We arrived late in Francistown to spend the night, then woke up early to head on to Nata, near the edge of the pans. Some morning phone calls made us think our luck was turning around. We found a tour in Nata and an affordable room in Gweta, a little further down the road. But over breakfast at Wimpy's, the room in Gweta fell through (they'd overbooked). We drove on to Nata anyway, and found a room at a very nice lodge that was equivalently pricey. No choice but to fork over the pula. At least we got to lounge by the pool.

Not content to stop 'til we got enough, we drove out to the Nata Sanctuary for our tour, where we were joined by a very nice couple of avid ornithologists from Australia. Imagine our surprise, however, when we reached the salt pans with our guide, only to discover that the entire pan was a giant lake! We thought, based on our Lonely Planet, that we would be able to drive out onto the pans and experience the sense of confusion and disorientation that is supposed to come from being on this vast, white, ethereal surface. Nope. Apparently the water usually has receded somewhat this time of year, but given all the recent rains, the pans were completely flooded. And they only dry up completely every few years or so. We had no choice but to enjoy the view of the unusual amount of water, and observe the birds. We saw a pelican, but not the usual flamingos. On a little bushwalk of my own, I tracked some eland (antelope), and got close enough to take some fuzzy pictures (below), and far enough into the bush to get a few mosquito bites (and luckily no ticks!). We watched the sunset, then headed back to the lodge.



Dinner at the lodge was tasty, and equivalently expensive. Morning came early. We had to get the car back by 4 pm. Driving along the roads in northern Botswana at 7 am, birds are everywhere. As they hear your car approaching, they disperse to the winds, as if they are celebrating and announcing the arrival of royalty in a fairytale. It's very peaceful and pretty, and makes you forget about the potholes on the road...at least it did until we clipped one of the little avian wonders with the car. Survival of the fittest...go join MJ and Farrah, little bird, and my apologies--I'm only human. I'm glad we hit you, and not one of the people scything grass or a cow or donkey or goat hanging out on the side of the road.

After returning the rental car, we had a peaceful afternoon in our house, then went to the house of a co-worker, Poloko, who had invited us for dinner. She made us some amazing traditional Botswana food--dumplings, beef in a vegetable stew, cabbage, and peaches and cream for dessert. Back at home, I tried to pick up the Confederation's Cup Final on my mp3 player's FM radio, but only got three music stations. The DJ threw me a halftime bone by announcing a 2-0 US lead over Brazil, and I fell asleep thinking the US might actually win a major soccer tournament. I was distressed this morning to learn Brazil has mastered the art of the comeback. Oh, the luck--it's bad, bad, really really bad. But, honestly, nothing that I can't get over. And Wednesday is a Botswana holiday, and I have the day off work. So I'm pretty sure good luck is on the way.