Rudy, our guide at Tuli Block, a game preserve on the eastern border of Botswana, took us to Solomon’s wall, a massive outcropping bisected by the Sashe River.

The ominous patch of water below the wall, according to Rudy, is the former home of the local mermaid. According to legend, she periodically captured an unsuspecting man, dragged him to the bottom of the river and had her way with him for three days, after which the spent and lifeless body of the man re-surfaced. Although unproven, the legend still persists – the last victim being an army office in the Botswana Defense Force.

One of, if not the highlight of the trip, was the time spent in Tuli Block. Although getting there was traumatic, Tuli Safari Lodge had spectacular game drives, A+ chef catering, and wonderful caretakers who were assigned to guests to facilitate activities and ensure the safety of guests. Rudy, “the people’s chief”, was our caretaker.

photo credit Meleko Mokgosi

Since Mike was engaged with his painting, I thought it best to commit to the politics of the land by talking with the locals and employees. To my amazement the good humored and humble employees reported that they had been subjected to ill treatment from visitors. Whites from neighboring South Africa were at the head of their complaint list. Many years ago the land, which was once used for farming and cattle grazing, was sold for very little to a South African businessman. And as with many lodges and safari camps in the country, the land is still owned by a contingent of South African and British “shareholders”.

Racial dynamics still plague interactions. According to the people I interviewed, many guests arrive with an assortment of liquor for relaxation, make unfair requests, and occasionally make uncouth statements. One guest, for example, aggressively demanded that his caretaker immediately take him to see the lions and their den. “How do you know there is a lions’ den?’ the caretaker inquired with caution and surprise. “Well”, said the Chinese man, “you live in the bush. Can’t you see, you live with the animals, therefore, you know where they are, so take me to them – I want to see them!” With amazement and equal disappointment, the narrator ended the story. He was obviously still affected by this exchange and could still barely believe what had happened. He capped off, “Such is the ignorance that we see here. I am sure you know what I’m talking about”.

And I did! Upon my arrival in Williams College in 2003 for a solid year , every time I opened my mouth to speak, people were startled with amazement. “Wow, you speak such good English, how come?” And “you don’t look African?” My response, just like that of the Tuli caretaker, was to smile and take it on the chin – instead of correcting these sorry stupidities or giving the speaker a fat lip! I suppose I could have just clarified that I left my loin cloth and spear in the closet that day; and as for the good English – I should have tickled their fancy and told them it only took me a year to learn the language. Before that I was speaking in Uga-Booga. Suffice it to say, I understood all too well what the caretaker had gone through, just like anyone who has been subjected to stereotypes.

A great affinity developed between the staff and me. Wherever we traveled – it was apparent to most parties that I was employed as a guide, an assistant, a translator, facilitator, travel companion etc. At times this was a disadvantage. But most of the time it was a productive advantage because as a native I was given a different price for various things; additionally, I had access to invaluable information unavailable to Mike or any other tourists and I learnt a great deal from these exchanges Although they may have been treated badly by some guests, the employees maintained their dignity and autonomy. And proof of this was exhibited on our penultimate day at Tuli Block. A big cook out, or braai, was arranged for the guests – and the food was great as always. After dinner was served and the guests had finished eating, the staff began singing and dancing to entertain the guests.

It was a bit bizarre yet acceptable. The singing was good; the dancing – not so good. It was 9pm. The employees were probably tired. I could sense, as well, a tinge of embarrassment . I cannot fault them for this because these were not young people in their glory days. They were working people with families to attend. So being the only Motswana in the crowd, and sensing their uneasiness, I politely approached one performer to ask, “Why, why do you do this?” Perhaps it is a cultural difference, but I felt that it was unfair to request a performance from these hard working people. His explanation was short and sweet, “madi ke mathata mister, a fufulelwa”. Which means in not so poetic terms, “one has to work and sweat for money”. But he went on to stress that they did somewhat enjoy performing, and that the proceeds help to pay for private health care. He explained this with such pride that I understood that any discomfort he felt on stage was insignificant compared to the value of having a good private health care plan.

It occurred to me while looking at Solomon’s wall why the legend of the Mermaid is resonant for the local people. As workers in the tourist industry the citizens of Tuli dive daily into the pool of necessity in which they may encounter a soul-killer, racism.

The safety message served its purpose, I had been warned about a specific danger and how to manage in “the unlikely event of a water landing”. More importantly, I had been given notice that I’d entered a new sphere of knowledge about which I knew very little. Over the course of a week, Matsaudi and…

the manager of Delta Camp, Lenamile Baikgodisi, provided instruction in bush literacy. Listening to them, I often thought of the people who over centuries through trial and error had created this useful body of knowledge, and I wondered what chapters had been lost to time.

After a week in the Okavango Delta, I traveled a few hours to the Tsodilo Hills, an elbow and knee of bedrock that sticks out of the Botswana sand sheet. Inhabited by humans for over a 100,000 years, the hills have been consecrated with 5000 rock paintings and a three dimensional image of a Python, believed to be one of the world’s first sculptures. These artifacts are a trace of people who lived lives with days that had a rhythm filled with actions that had a reason. What were their lives like? How did they get through the day? And again I wondered what knowledge has been lost? Perhaps there is an echo of an answer in the following images from Tsodilo Hills and fifteen tips on bush survival provided by Matsaudi and Lenamile.

1. If you find a warthog hole in the morning, do not stand in front of it. Knowing that lions have a habit of waiting outside for their morning debut, warthogs back into their holes at night. In the morning the hogs shoot like cannon balls out of their dens, breaking the legs of anyone unlucky enough to stand in the way.

2. If you surprise a leopard, do not make eye contact. It will pounce on your back for the offense. Pretend not to notice, look away and slowly move out of the area.

3. If an elephant gets a whiff of you and is feeling grumpy, he will charge or mock-charge and you must make a quick determination of his intentions. If it is a mock-charge, the animal will raise its head and flap its ears as it moves toward you. If this is the case, slowly back away. But if the elephant trumpets, lowers its head, tucks its trunk between its legs and flattens its ears, it is a real charge and you will be lashed with the trunk, gored with a tusk and stomped into chutney.

4. If an African buffalo charges, there is nothing to do but run. Old male buffalo get tired of roaming with the herd and live a sedentary and solitary retirement. If disturbed, the old male will either flee or charge. If he charges, run and climb a tree, but be sure to climb the side of the tree opposite the charging beast, since he may not stop but slam full steam into the tree.

5. If you need to improve your scent, the San people, aka Kalahari bushmen, recommend wild basil as an excellent perfume.

6. If you love a girl, go directly to her and tell her how you feel. She will say come back tomorrow. When you return the next day, she may say, “I forgot about it” and tell you to come back again tomorrow. This may go on for months, if she is too shy to tell you how she feels. You may need to send an emissary to get an answer.

7. If you urinate and it’s too hot (a sign of STD) use the wild asparagus plant, called Mabele, translated from Setswana as “tits of the goat” because of its utter like shape. Dig the root of the male plant, which is thinner and longer then the female. Chop and boil while fresh. Mix with the bark of the jackalberry tree or the feverberry tree and add wild sage. Boil together and drink for three days.

8. If you have an infected wound, use the buffalo thorn (Ziziphus Mucronata) to heal it. First, choose a leaf the size of the wound and place it over the sore. Leave it on over night. In the morning there will be a little hole. Squeeze the wound to remove the infection. Boil the root of the same tree and drink half a cup of the tea once a day, until the infection is gone.

9. If you have the flu with a fever, collect cough grass with roots attached, the leaves of the rain tree and broad leafed “Tappington” grass. Take the tops off the grass and boil all three in a big pot for one hour. Pour the hot liquid into a metal basin and breath the vapors, using a blanket to create a tent to capture the steam. Repeat once a day until the fever is broken and the sinuses are clear.

10. If you get lost in the daytime, look in palm trees for the nest of the Red Billed Buffalo Weaver, who always build on the west side of the tree. You can also take a census of termite mounds, whose tips most often lean to the northwest. Termites work only at night raising the mound with spit and sand. The sun, which travels across the northern sky in the southern hemisphere, dries the new construction more quickly on the sun-facing side bending the nest.

11. If you are caught in a lightning storm, find shelter under an umbrella thorn or the African mangosteen (Garcinia Livingstonei).

12. If you are hungry for antelope meat, dig a hole 3 meters wide and 3 meters deep. Collect branches of silver cluster, sharpen into stakes, harden in fire, dry in sand and sharpen. Line the pit with the stakes facing upwards and cover the pit with twigs and grass. Sit by the hole downwind from the prey. When the prey is on the upwind side of the trap, walk around behind them and run toward the hole.

13. If you hear the Black Plover at night, there may be predatory cats in the area. The Black Plover has only three toes and can not hold a branch, so it must nest on the ground. Baboons also give helpful warnings of predators. A “hoo” indicates the presence of humans, a cough warns of a cat and a high pitched squeak chased by a bark is a sign of a snake.

14. If you hear the Fork-tailed Drongo before sunrise, the time is 4 am. By 5:30 am the coucals start with a sound like water coming from the bottle, “glug, glug. glug”. After that it’s the fish eagles by 6 am.

15. If a bird craps on you, it’s good luck. So be happy.

Ceopede Baitsile is a student at Cape Town University studying Ecology and Environmental Management

We are not a contrary people. We are a nation of introverts. We keep quiet and don’t complain a lot. But people are becoming more opinionated. Our first President Khama had a proverb that sums up our people. He said, “Ntwa Kgolo ke ya molomo” which means, “The best way to fight is by talking”.

Khama had a way of bringing people together. To me that’s his greatest achievement. If you can bring people together, all the other problems just fall off. He was a traditionalist in that he had a good connection with his ancestors. As a result he was a visionary person and could see things others could not see. People respect you when you have good relations with your ancestors. People say he went to caves and saw massive snakes and with the snakes he would pray to his ancestors. Khama said, “Tshaba e e senang ngwao ke tshaba e e latlhegileng”, which I translate as, “A nation without culture is a lost nation”.

We are a politically stable, land-locked country that has never had a civil war, but we’ve had a few misunderstandings. We are the number one exporter of quality diamonds and the number one importer of beef to the EU. Education is free in Botswana and everyone can get a piece of land for free from the government. But you have to develop it– plant a crop or build a house on it– within three years or it will be taken back. I have three farms now, which helps to diversify my wealth and provides some security for my four sons.

The land is two thirds desert with interesting vegetation and animals. The Morula tree has a yellow juicy fruit that is very sweet. Some clever person, some white guy, made a proper, brewed, alcoholic drink from it called, Amarula, which is now very popular. The Mopane worm lives in the Mopane tree and you can eat it fresh or dried. It is full of protein and someone is now trying to can it. Dried, it tastes like a salty biscuit and it’s good when you are drinking.

Be careful when you are driving at night, since the animals are often in the road. People think elephants are nice, but when you see one, it’s so big it is terrifying. If an elephant gets in your way at night, don’t honk your horn, since the elephant will think you are stealing a baby elephant. Instead, flash your lights. The elephant will see it’s own enormous shadow and run away in fear.

I grew up on this farm. I was not educated so I went to work in the mines of South Africa. The working conditions were very oppressive and the hours were very long. They did not give me a contract or a pension and they did not allow people to leave. I got out because I fell sick and could not work any more. So I came home to farm.

I’m a poor farmer who sells goats to people. Success with goats depends on rain and live stock disease. It’s bad now because I lost 50 goats to “heart water” disease. The World Cup will be in Johannesburg next year and I had hoped to profit from a big demand for meat, but now I don’t have so many goats and I am disappointed.

I believe in farming and that it is my way to contribute to our society and culture. For example, when I sell thirty goats, ten each to three people, it is enough stock for these people to begin farming. Making people self sufficient is the best way forward for our culture and I’m proud of this work. I know what I am doing and I know what direction I want to go. But I’m disappointed in the government since they do not recognize my contribution. It’s unfair, since they subsidize commercial farms, but not someone like me. The least they could do is fence my land and pay for shots for the animals.