that at this point for quite some time of silence, is mainly because I to Germany soars am. By the way, with a small cost-saving detour via Dubai, where I ACTING on behalf of the hidden request: I did buy. With great middle-eastern souvenirs and also downstream of sheer presence, I was able to score points with my family, but now when I take away the handkerchief in his face and look out the window, I veer that the trip was not only wise decision.
I will not complain but, for the days and weeks were wonderful and so far it has seen some good reason, for himself, his friends again over the Facebook account. Currently I am still the mind after a strong counterpoint to the German weather reality and what then on, everything would turn, furnish the trip report from Botswana for once. There in the dry thorn bush savanna, we have the first cloud that we met for nearly two weeks, even photographed happily surprised.
the right of the sun beam, just above the trees ...
Only the clouds, we find, however, were not there. It was more about people and wildlife. The San are an example to be considered while culturally and historically as the first ethnic group in the area of modern Botswana, but is now pushed to the margins of society as a minority rather eke out a bitter existence. Now - you guessed it - not all of San same. About the people we met, claiming a brochure that in the extensive piece of savannah called Dqae QARE, which they call their own, can still pursue their traditional lifestyle. Elsie, the likeable young woman who is in the small resort manager there, but frankly that would not be possible because the country only got to build a tourism project. No person shall hunt here, as did the ancestors, no one here collects berries and roots, because medicine has the form of tablets and food comes from supermarkets, and no lives in the San for the tourists with sturdy wooden beds decorated grass huts. Nevertheless, this small Tourist farm offer hope. The San community is the next place, they even manage to create an income and is not forced to serve as cheap labor, the descendants of the land "owner" who robbed them of four or five generations of their livelihood. Nevertheless, culture and lifestyle of the San fade so on and on. It also criticized Elsie, but what she should do because there would be no other option. The San, who look the other way and continue to refuse to give up their lives in the Central Kalahari National Park, which incidentally was originally created expressly for their protection, are constrained by the central government in Gaborone, harassed and driven by little. Their nomadic lifestyle is insulted as backward and uncivilized, the San are to be forced to live by the standards of "modernity". One wonders why a government so much stress makes with some nomads, in this extremely sparsely populated, seemingly endless expanse of the Kalahari. Apparently diamonds stored below the desert floor.
A few hundred miles north, in the Okavango Delta, such problems are unknown. Here, a group of dugout boat drivers have joined forces to show tourists the Delta. They suffer a bit from the global financial crisis because so few tourists came this year, says our guide, in the village Seronga there are only two small shops, a bar and a butcher, although during our stay possessed not just about meat. This was however not at the Lehman Brothers, but rather a lack of local demand. Really bad the crisis has caught Seronga not to, because even animals who keeps his corn fields successfully defended against the elephants and to still know, such as water lilies and termites are prepared and preserved, the skin so quickly to nothing. Even the fish in the region can be distinguished from Europeans, not daring to listen, as I had a sobering, but they also had help from unfair macho hippos, the claim area had their permanent support of my fishing spots. To make it short: I think I have never managed to escape from everyday life so elegant and all-encompassing, as in the endless silence of the delta. Despite the 40-strong group of Spaniards felt that the middle of the night with their Viva Espana were still louder than the bleating hippos. But that, before the absurdities of a globalized world, on a non-populated, with elephant-dung-strewn island in the Okavango Delta is not sure we learned from our boat man already in his experience with the crisis ...
PS: For the tourism project in the Okavango Delta, I wrote in TIME Online .
PPS: Does not clean, but also at TIME Online is also a article about a German teacher in Cape Town , the I had been embezzled.
