Showing posts with label Bushmen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bushmen. Show all posts

Jan 20, 2014

Skeleton Coast Safari



NamibRand landscape
 Namibia.  So familiar, yet so utterly different.  As we drive into Windhoek from the airport, we could be in Maasailand: the same scrubby, thorny vegetation, the same low, dry hills.  But the city is immaculate, the traffic runs like clockwork - all very unTanzanian!


We head out to the NamibRand Nature Reserve, an area of huge views, stunning sand dunes and unexpected wildlife.  Easiest to see are the oryx and zebra: the oryx in particular have a wonderful habit of standing on top of the dunes to catch the sea breeze and cool off.
Oryx catching the breeze
Oryx bulls fighting

But we are soon captivated by the tiny stuff: Toktokkies, Dancing White Ladies, Barking Geckoes and Armoured Crickets.  (The first 2, by the way, are Tenebrid Beetles and a very cool Trapdoor Spider… while the gecko and cricket just stepped out of a sci-fi blockbuster).
Dancing White Lady (Trapdoor Spider)
Armoured Cricket
All around us, tracks tell a story about the denizens of the dunes: Cape Cobras and Golden Moles appear to dive and 'swim' through the sand from time to time; once we see where a cheetah has passed by.

But the real treat is yet to come: one day, a small Cessna buzzes out of the blue and taxis to a halt on the small bush strip. Out gets Andre, a soft-spoken man with twinkling eyes in his weather-beaten face, our pilot, guide and host for the next 3 days.  Without mucking about, we are soon taxiing out again and we set off on our adventure.

Bliss.

We buzz the giant dunes at Sossusvlei, then fly west over an ocean of smaller dunes, the wave-like forms marching to the horizon.  Then to the Atlantic coast, where we spot seals and (once) a pod of dolphins and circle over a shipwreck half submerged in wind-blown sand.
Flying flamingos
Shipwreck
Salt works
First sight of the Atlantic!
We land on a shingle beach: Andre produces a picnic, simple but delicious, which we eat with our fingers.  Then we're off again, landing this time in a canyon, where we see Bushman artefacts and strange rock formations.
Bushman art

Later, we float over an enormous landscape, range after range of weirdly sculpted hills and ridges.  The sun is sinking towards the western horizon by now, so the drama of the scenery is amplified by huge shadows.
Alpha Alpha Charlie's shadow as we land at sunset
Oryx standing on his shadow

Tectonics, Namibia style

We sleep that night in a simple bush camp overlooking a huge stretch of desert.

In the morning, we head out on a short drive looking for desert lions. We find instead a dodgy-looking desert lion researcher and his even dodgier-looking vehicle. This turns out to be the legendary Dr Philip Stander, who tells us a little about his project over lunch. (One male lion recently walked 90 kms overnight, an unheard-of feat of endurance in our East African lions.  He then proceeded to cover 75-80 kms on the 2 following nights!)

Reluctantly we take leave of the Good Doctor, climb back into Alpha Alpha Foxtrot and set off once more.  When we land, there is a totally clapped-out looking land rover, all rust and bulging tyres, parked by a shed.  This turns out to be out trusty steed.  Low pressure tyres mean that we float on top of the sand rather than ploughing through it, as we swoop and glide through the endless dunescape.  It is a magical ride: we lie flat to peer through a magnifying lens at the sand, which turns out to be a jewellery-box of garnet, quartz and other gorgeous crystals.  We surf down the face of a dune on our bottoms, setting off a slo-mo landslide, the flowing sand moaning like an orchestra of didgeridoos.
Sliding down a sand dune
Jewellery-box sand dune

It is a day of huge fun - we all revert to childhood, howling with the sheer pleasure of it all.

There are many ore spectacular moments: the desert ellies in a gorge; the rhinos spotted from the air, the stall warning squealing as Andre banks hard overhead; but nothing else quite matches up to the fun we had in the dunes that day.




Nov 21, 2013

Bushmen in the Kalahari

It was fascinating to spend a bit of time with a Bushmen family in the Kalahari recently.

The Bushmen (sometime also known as the San) of southern Africa’s drylands belong to the Khoisan group, the original hunter-gatherer inhabitants of much of Africa, who have been displaced from most of their traditional range by later arrivals, peoples with new technologies and lifestyles.

Recently, their way of life here has been threatened by a Government relocation policy, with some claiming that this has been spurred by the need to clear the way for profitable diamond mining and tourism interests.

Wikipedia has this to say:

‘Since the mid-1990s, the central government of Botswana has implemented a relocation policy, aimed at moving the Bushmen out of their ancestral land on and near the Central Kalahari Game Reserve (CKGR) into newly created settlements, such as New Xade. The government's official reason for adopting the policy is as follows:
"Over time it has become clear that many residents of the CKGR already were or wished to become settled agriculturists, raising crops and tending livestock as opposed to hunting-gathering when the reserve was established in 1961
"In fact, hunting-gathering had become obsolete to sustain their living conditions. These agricultural land uses are not compatible with preserving wildlife resources and not sustainable to be practiced in the Game Reserve.

"This is the fundamental reason for government to relocate the CKGR residents."
The government has also explicitly denied that any of the relocation was forced. The official website states:
"Government's policy has at all times been based upon the consent of those concerned, at no time has government contemplated the use of force."
However, a 2006 court ruling confirmed that residents had been forcibly and unconstitutionally removed.’

I think it is fair to say that the Botswana Government has, on the whole, done an honorable job of looking after its citizens, spending its diamond and tourism cash far more wisely than has been the case across most of sub-Saharan Africa.

But it is also true that indigenous peoples around the world (think Native American, or the Aborigines of Australia) have suffered at the hands of their new political masters.

One thing that particularly struck me on my recent visit concerned hunting. Botswana used to be a well-known tourist hunting (love the ambiguity…) destination but has recently banned all forms of hunting. Which applies equally to the Bushmen. I was told that, in certain areas, Bushmen can apply for a license to hunt small game such as springhares and porcupines, so they can demonstrate their survival skills to tourists.

When asked about this policy my guide responded: ‘Sure, hunting is banned, so of course that must apply to Bushmen too. Otherwise it would be unfair.’

But: what happens to a hunter-gatherer when he can no longer hunt?

On a rest break while walking through the bush, my bushmen hosts were astounded to hear that Tanzania has recently passed a law granting the Hadza (Tanzania’s very own ‘bushmen’) title to their own land. On this land, they are entirely free to live as they always have, by hunting and gathering – this provoked a gasp of amazement and a burst of animated talk. Finally, my translator: ‘They are very lucky, these Hadza.’

I can’t help wishing that the Bushmen had a similar deal: a piece of land to call their own, with full rights to live a traditional life. Surely we can make a special exception for these amazing people, who until recently eked a living from an exceptionally harsh environment in a truly sustainable way?

Deep down, I’m sure the government’s claims are mostly right: that most bushmen WANT to live as agro-pastoralists; they WANT access to healthcare, education and clean water from a tap, they WANT to take their place in Botswana's economy and society; even so, there must be a few who want to live as their forefathers did.

Is that so very much to ask?