Chobe National Park, Botswana
05/18/10
Shivering in the middle of the night, I awakened from my own vibrations shaking the tent. In my claustrophobic eyes, I saw the world closing in and I felt the fabric of my sleeping bag enter my lungs. With fierce, uncontrolled movements, I searched for the flashlight near panicked, fighting this illogical enemy from within myself.
Boxie-boo woke up and immediately rubbed my back, then handed me the flashlight. She had the ability to slip into my skin and feel what I felt: the maddening mirage, the tent caving in, lungs clogging and the bloodrush of fear. I fought the urge to leave the tent, controlled my breathing, then squeezed Boxie-boo’s hand, my way of saying thank you. No words were spoken. Her touch dispeled my wakening nightmare.
Later we awoke at 7 a.m. The latest in days.
We had already gotten used to packing our bags and tents, clearing our camp setup within a few minutes. Yesterday we said our goodbyes to Till, Julia, Evan and Sarah, the friendly ones, and good riddance to Squirrel Boy and Walnut Brain. Instead welcomed two new travelers - Caroline and Ben from New Zealand. It was a great day.
On the four-hour drive from Nata to Ksane, with my window half-open I enjoyed the mumbles of wind, savoring my thoughts and the aroma of dust. In the glass, I saw the reflection of a dull-eyed man, my hair and face blasted from lack of sleep. This did not matter. The Botswana countryside had a tinkling sound through leaves, giraffe heads appearing over tree tips and jaywalking elephants.
With the sun bathing my skin, the drive felt like music. I conducted the sounds, swaying my hand out the window. The whole landscape seemed to change with my slant of hand: floating my open palm across tree limbs, the branches shuffled to the faint, humming undertone of spinning tires. A gorgeous drive.
Following Boxie-boo and Choppa-chaw with our two large tent bags, they pointed to where they wanted their homes built in shaded hollows at Thebe Campsite near the entrance to Chobe National Park. The Chobe river had flooded, covering much of the camp grounds and destroying certain facilities, which meant private lodges were unlocked for us to shower - a blessing in disguise, allowing us the relaxation of privacy.
…Chobe National Park…
Our drive Jack’s opensided Landrover led us along a sandy road winding through landscapes of brown grass leading to short green trees. We saw knee down warthogs eating grasses, baboons carying their young on their backs, tall branchless tree limbs with lion cubs slightly visible, playing in the shadows with their mom. We continued along grassy open fields and short shrubbery split by crooked fallen trees dark as stone.
Jack chased after another truck, hugging the curves with gentle fishtails. Truck Two sped up. A leopard had been spotted and announced on Jack’s radio. Choppa-chaw, wearing a black hoodie, patted her flailing hair. Tires spraying up standstone dust, we followed Truck Two passed wildbeests, an angry trunk batting elephant, kudus, hippos.
Impalas.
A stopped vehicle photographing an elephant around a corner came so abruptly that Jack, slamming the brakes, turned passed at a 45-degree angle, hurling Boxie-boo towards me. “Give ‘er hell, Jack,” I screamed. Everyone giggled and bounced in the truck. Jack glanced quickly over his shoulder with a madman’s smile. He accelerated. Boxie-boo zipped up her hoodie and I held her close. She kissed my cheek.
“This is awesome!” she yelled.
With the wind whirling everyone’s hair, the road grew steeper, dipped into a shady hollow, rose sharply around a tiring spinning corner. Jack slide us around the curve, sped up the grade between the green trees that dappled with light and darkness. In stern freeze frames, he skipped us side-to-side up the hill, the sky appearing clear blue through the dust haze, the air bursting from our lungs. I felt the tumbling tires below us and rocks buffeting the undercarriage. Locking up his tires, we all snapped back in unison against our seats.
“You drive like a grandma, Jack,” I joked. He pointed to the leopard hidden, laying in brown braches. Minutes later, a pride of lions crossed the road in front of us, headed to examine a family of bathing elephants. Chobe National Park kicked the shit out Kruger within minutes.
At night, we all celebrated with a great group of people by drinking vodka mixed with soda water, while David prepared steak and corn for dinner.
That’s all for now.
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