A wandering Canadian: Botswana – Chobe National Park: Day 13

Four countries have joint borders very near where we were staying: Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana, and Namibia. Day trips into Chobe National Park in Botswana are very common from both sides of the falls, so we of course couldn't resist adding another country to our list of visited places.

Kudu

Our hostel provided us with a shuttle to the Kazungula border between Botswana and Zambia (about a 45 minute drive) and helped us through the border formalities (no passport drama this time) before leaving us at the border crossing boat.

While in Africa we had already crossed borders by plane, truck, and on foot, and now it was time to cross one by water. The small ferry collected the rest of the passengers headed to Botswana (about 16 of us) and soon we were zooming across the confluence of the Zambezi and Chobe rivers, about a 5 minute boat ride.

Ox-pecker bird cleaning insects off
the unimpressed water buffalo

Once on the other side, we got our passports stamped again, and then hopped on a truck that brought us to a small restaurant where we were served a light breakfast before heading to the first half of the day's activities – a morning game “drive” via small boat.

We set off on the Chobe river, which separates Namibia and Botswana in this area. (The division is in the deepest part of the river). Namibia was at times a thirty second swim away from us, but crocodiles and hippos are the best border control, so we didn't get to add a sixth African country to our visited list.

Our guide was a bird enthusiast today, which I appreciated, and he took care in pointing out the various birds and telling us their names. I think I've seen more species of bird in Africa than I have my whole life in Ontario – the variety is astonishing. I take photos and scribble down names for later, while the others turn their eyes to the larger animals.

Notice the large chunk missing from the side of the right hippo -
likely got in a fight with an elephant

The river is full of hippos, and we get to go fairly close to them in our little boat. It is amazing to watch them swim and lumber around. They are cautious of us, and it is amusing to watch them sink under the water to hide, slowly lift the tips of their heads and eyes to peer back at us, then sink quietly under water once more. There are plenty of antelope everywhere, too. By this point in the trip all their names and subtleties are blending together in my head – impala, Grant's gazelles, various other kinds of gazelles... our guide points out that the distended stomachs of the antelopes we see here mean they are all pregnant. They can control when they give birth and wait until the rainy season starts, so that their offspring have plenty of green plants to nourish themselves on. He also points out that they are the “MacDonalds” of the lion world – fast food, because there are so many of them.

We enjoy getting up close to some crocodiles as well, basking in the sun to regulate their body temperatures. They mostly ignore us, but one silently opens its mouth and shows us its teeth, remaining that way for several minutes before slowly closing its jaws again. Yeah, definitely not attempting a swim crossing to Namibia today.

The theme of the day, however, is elephants. We soon come upon a herd of them in the water. About a dozen, all enjoying the river as only elephants can – spraying themselves, drinking, climbing on each other, splashing around. Further down, one of them is giving itself a mud bath. We watch in fascination as this large, wrinkly animal sucks up mud with its trunk, and then proceeds to fling it over its back, head, ears. Our guide explains that they do this to protect themselves from burning in the hot sun. Elephant sunscreen. I can't get enough of this elephant. It gets some mud in its eye at one point and endearingly uses its trunk to rub the mud out of its eye.

Time for a mud bath

My heart surges with a sudden intense connection with this strange, grey creature. I rub my eyes when things get in them, too! Such a simple thing, yet it feels like a profound connection, somehow. It seems as though no matter how far I travel, its is the similarities I see in the far away people, places, animals, and landscapes that strikes me the most.

Let me just get this mud out of my eye

Being in the boat lets us see a lot more of the intimate moments of these creatures' lives. I heard one tourist say to another at some point during my travels in Africa, that once you've seen each animal, that's kind of it, you don't really need to keep seeing them. A sentiment I can't really understand or relate to. Sure, I saw an elephant in the Serengeti. It was eating leaves from the trees. But now I saw a baby elephant splashing. Another one washing itself with mud. And rubbing its eye with its trunk! Elephants swimming. Elephant herds walking to the river. Elephants hiding in the forest. An elephant expertly swishing its muddy grasses in the river back and forth before eating each bunch; the ritual enthralling.

No, I could never get tired of seeing elephants, for I see so much more than that. I see worlds of unknown behaviours and social complexities from creatures that I may never see again for a very, very long time. I don't tear my eyes away, for I can't get enough.

After the boat ride, we are taken back to the little restaurant and are treated to an excellent buffet lunch before our afternoon game drive in the park. The first thing we do is all reach for our phones, trying to access the very weak and inconsistent wifi, until one of us finally gets access and announces the result to the others – for it it's US election night back home, and while we were watching the elephants, Donald Trump was elected president of the United States.

Notice the sleeping baby elephants on the ground

The world suddenly seems like a very different place than it was that morning. In the moment, I can't really process the meaning, nor do I want to. I'm in Botswana. There are elephants. The time for processing world events can wait. I send out a quick message of love to some of my distraught friends, and I immerse myself back in Africa.

For I know that the world needs some Africa right now, and the most useful thing I can do right now is memorize every detail and bring it back home with me. The world needs to know that tall lanky giraffes walk around at the top of orange sandy hills stretching their patchy long necks up to the few green leaves at the tips of dry branches. It needs to know that elephant adults will stand in a circle around a tree in the shade, guarding their sleeping babies sprawled on the ground between their legs in the dust. That almost every bush along the Chobe river has impalas hiding in the shade. That iridescent blue birds hop around in the sand just long enough for you to look at and gasp at their beauty. That warthogs play in the mud and then curl up adorably in the dry sand.