Chobe National Park

While I was in the area, I had to make sure I went on a safari, even if it was one of those super touristy kinds of safaris. So the day after I was stunned by the beauty of Victoria Falls, I booked a safari with the backpacking hostel. The driver showed up in the morning, I hopped in, and he drove me to the Zambia-Botswana border where he handed me off to the tour guide. Mind you, I was starting my safari relatively late, by about two hours actually. I had the intention of booking the safari the night before, but my friends and I returned from dinner far past the time the safari company was closed. So I prayed that morning that it would all work out, and it did.

Now before I continue, I should tell you about the Big Five. What are these big five you ask? Well, they’re a group of five different safari animals so named for the difficulty of seeing them and the danger they present to human beings. They include, the lion, the elephant, the rhino, the buffalo, and the leopard. After my safari, I was dubbed a lucky charm. Why you ask? Well, it’s because I saw 4 out of 5 of the big five in less than 3 hours, and the one I didn’t see doesn’t live in Chobe national park.

My big five adventure started almost as soon as the tour guide picked me up at the border. We wooshed away from the border because we (I) was late, and we had to catch up with the group they were throwing me into. Mind you, I believe in Divine Providence, which comes in many shapes and sizes. And had I not been late I wouldn’t have seen the first of the big five, a leopard sitting on the side of the road. My tour guide stopped the car and started geeking out. He pointed to the leopard on the side of the road and we sat there for a good 10min before it got up and walked away. I asked him about it and he told me that the leopard is one of the rarest animals on the safari because they live alone and are difficult to spot. Even the most active guides only see them once every 3 months or so. Seeing the leopard, therefore, was no small incident, and I hadn’t even reached the national park yet.

After we entered the park, we sped along the sand roads until we reached the car that was waiting for me. I hopped in with a bunch of other tourists and we continued the safari throughout the park. Chobe is pretty amazing. We zoomed through different parts of the park, stopped for every major animal we saw like giraffes, elephants, buffalo, some gazelle, and a few hippos. Just before lunch we stopped and watched a pride of lions for a bit. Following lunch, we went on a river cruise and saw more animals like crocodiles, birds, swimming elephants, more hippos, and even a herd of buffalo. There isn’t really much else to say about it all. We finished in the late afternoon, the tour guide brought me back to the border, and I crossed into Zambia again where I received my fifth passport stamp from the country. I made it back to the backpacker hostel safe and sound and packed up to leave the next morning after going to church.

One of the interesting things I did not was exactly how big the safari industry is. There are dozens of national parks across Africa. However, the ones we mainly think of, where we see what Americans would consider “the real Africa” are all concentrated in, albeit massive countries, the relatively few countries on the eastern and southern parts of the continent. In fact, Zambia is bold enough to advertise itself as “the REAL Africa.” It’s a ballsy move if you ask me, especially considering that The Lion King, which is most American’s source of knowledge for savanna animals, is inspired by neighboring Tanzania. It’s also interesting that some African Americans latch onto this idea of the savanna as their heritage whereas, in all likelihood, their ancestors were probably from West Africa or the Congo basis, where are certainly not like the wide swaths of savanna in this part of the continent which is further away in distance that Los Angeles is from New York.

On one hand it’s interesting for me to see these tour companies. Tourism is a major industry all over the world, regardless of where you are from. And having grown up in a tourist town and having been a tourist in many places, I have a strange and complicated relationship with tourism itself. It’s true that tourism can bring a lot of money to communities that otherwise wouldn’t have much industry or competitive edge in other businesses. Still, tourism brings with it a slew of related problems, most of which are the tourists themselves. I hate being with other tourists when I travel. They’re naïve, clueless, needy, and downright arrogant sometimes. It’s why I try to go to places that are less traveled or see relatively few of the stereotypical tourists. It’s why I look for places where I will have a genuine experience, unlike the very touristy safari I embarked upon. It’s in those kinds of places, the local ones, where you can actually meet people and get to know the places you’re visiting without the underlying “tourist satisfaction” coming into play all the time.

The attitude of many tourists also perpetuates, certainly in Africa, an uncomfortable and utilitarian relationship between visitors and locals. My perfect example is tipping here in Madagascar. Tipping isn’t part of the local culture, just like in Europe. However, many Americans tip waiters and others huge sums of cash (relatively speaking of course) which has diluted and twisted the concept of the tip in the first place. The bottom line is that the average Malagasy worker doesn’t understand the concept of tipping. The way they view it is that foreigners are just so rich that they just give people money. It’s just what foreigners do. So what ends up happening is situations where hotel employees or other workers will come up to you and ask you for a “gift” or for a tip, even though they haven’t done anything to earn the tip. This misconception and faulty perception of foreigners extends to other parts of society, particularly in the provinces and rural areas where, even if you want to just talk to people, they couldn’t give a sh*t about you and will just ask for money. Why? Because that’s what foreigners do.

And I know this isn’t just a thing that has happened once or twice. It’s a full continental mentally of people across Africa because of the way Western tourists have acted and behaved in the past. As I was walking the rural streets of Rwanda, people would say, “Good morning. Give me money.” They’re not trying to rob me. They’re just asking me for money for no other reason other than I’m a white foreigner and they have been trained through the past actions of and interaction with white foreigners that this is what we do, we give money. It’s the same in Madagascar, Senegal, and wherever I have been. Less so in Zambia, actually. But in the touristy parts of the country, you always encounter the sleezy guys and women trying to coerce you into buying their merchandise. As one police officer said in Zimbabwe, “I hate those guys,” she said to me. “They just try to force people to buy their sh*t instead of actually working. They make us all look bad and desperate. It’s not right.”

And that’s my beef with tourism. Mind you, I’ve been on both ends of the tourism paradigm, which is why I always try to be understanding and grateful when I travel. Working in a restaurant on the beach of the beach town, you get to meet a lot of sides of humanity you just wish didn’t exist. I’ve been yelled at and sworn at by grown men for a pizza that is 5min behind schedule. I’ve seen half-naked girls throw tantrums for not being allowed into restaurants for not wearing enough clothing or shoes. I’ve had a man look at me in the face and tell me, “I’m never coming here ever again,” when our oven broke down and put us at half production capacity. You know, something out of our control. And what an interesting thing to say to an 18-year-old trying to assess the chaotic situation playing out in a restaurant. But those are the kinds of people tourism attracts places, and little York, Maine, isn’t unique with its tourists. Like with anything, there are costs and benefits. And I have always been on the fence about whether the benefits of tourism actually ever outweigh the costs.

Now the “bus” ride back to Lusaka the next day was rather interesting. I missed the bus I had intended to take because the information about departure times was inaccurate, as are most things on the internet in Africa. So I opted for next best (and only other) option which was a smaller bus. I sat in front with another guy, and we proceeded to drive to Lusaka, dropping people off at random points and picking up every hitchhiker known to man. The process looked something like this:

Driver sees hitchhiker on the side of the road. The van comes to a screeching halt. Van assistant opens the door and yells in the native language, “Where you going?”

Hitchhiker responds with the destination.

“Don’t stand there, lets go.” Hitchhiker is thrown into the van and the van peels out with the door not closed yet.

And that’s what it was like for 8 hours.

I spent the next day resting before grabbing a taxi and zooming off to the airport where I caught my flight for my next destination; Kigali, Rwanda.

As always, know that you are in my prayers each morning. All I ask is that you do the same for me.

May God be praised.