Leaving Namibia, or How to Find a Pangolin

I hate to leave Namibia - it has been so good to me. But my last days
here weren’t without memorable adventures. I wondered if the day would
come when Columbus would drown in the thick mud it often has to go
through. And that day nearly came.

Mamili National Park was going to be the last on my list in this
country. It was almost completely flooded and looked deserted. A few
successful river crossings finally led to an unsuccessful one. My team
and I found ourselves spinning our wheels in what the locals call
“black cotton” - fine black mud. The guys tried everything: branches,
logs, even rubber mats from inside the car, but it all just sank.
After three hours of hard work, sunburned and
up-to-their-necks-in-mud, Alexander and Vladimir had completed jacking
up one wheel, were almost done with another, and were about to start
digging out the front axle. Out of the blue, a jeep with elephant
hunters showed up and pulled us out. I wouldn’t have anything to do
with them if I had a choice, but beggars can’t be choosers.

It could have been a miserable and sad finale to my time in Namibia -
a failed expedition to a national park and a rescue by killers. But,
as things often turn out to be, it was only for the better. Tired and
dirty, I suddenly realized that we were alone in the middle of a
heavenly oasis. Birds and frogs were chirping. Away from the muddy
pools, other water basins framed by reeds had crystal clear waters
sprinkled with water lilies. There were only small crocodiles around,
so I could swim in cool water and then peacefully rest in the sun. At
night, not wanting to risk drowning the car again, we made our way as
far into the park as we could on foot, careful not to surprise any of
its predators (or have them surprise us.) The walk was rather
uneventful, but so peaceful I didn’t even raise my camera when we
encountered a herd of elephants with their young. I just watched as
their caravan quietly passed by. Almost back at the tent, I got the
final and greatest surprise of Namibian wildlife - in the corner of
his eye Vladimir spotted a pangolin. The most peculiar animal I’ve
ever seen, it’s a tad like an armadillo, but its entire body is
covered with large thick scales, making it look worthy of sitting at
Arthur’s round table. It is like a giant spruce cone, with tiny eyes
and soft soles.

Written by Sarit Reizin

Why Mazatlan? (video podcast)

After a week in Mazatlan, I had a chance to meet with Carlos Berdegue, the Vice President of the Mazatlan Hotel Association and President of El Cid Resorts. I took his word on it and checked out several of the Colonial town near Mazatlan. They are all quite impressive and I recommend the silver mines beneath Daniels in Copala.

Please note the dreadful choice to have my glasses propped up on my head like that. However, I appreciate the casual feel of Mexico.

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Written by Devin Galaudet

Uruguay - Tierra of Beef, Mate, and Water

What more could anyone ask for? You eat some of the best beef in the world for your main course every day.  During your time off work, or during a leisurely stroll along the “Rambla” in Montevideo, you drink the best mate in South America.  And when you are full of these two gems you drink some of the best water in the world (apparently this is one of Uruguay’s main resources - the natural abundance of water below her lands).

Sounds nice, and I have to agree that the mate here IS the best I have experienced.  I understand now why the Uruguayans don’t use all of the sugar that many Argentines do in their mates.  But I am not much for deciding between waters - when back in California I drink the tap water as easily as I do Evian or some other bottled and branded water.  Although I can tell the difference between Californians water and water in a few parts of Mexico because of the, um, missions to the restroom.

But the beef here - this is of utter importance clearly.  I loved the steaks, bife de chorizo, that I completely destroyed when traveling through parts of Argentina. And upon hearing that Uruguay was on the same, if not higher, level of steak quality my mouth has already directed me to a few places in town.

I haven’t found it yet though.  Sure, I have tasted some good meat here.  But nothing like the steak I had in Salta, Argentina, for example.  I went to the same restaurant three consecutive nights  and asked the mesero to serve it up more rare each night. On the third night, I actually experienced the meat melting in my mouth - so soft, so juicy, so unbelievably enjoyable (with a glass of wine…all for under eight dollars).

I am still on the path to finding this here, but I have been disappointed two times thus far.  I will find it though, or not.  And either way I will report the truth…my truth at least…hasta la carne mejor de Uruguay…

Written by Dominic DeGrazier

A Political View from America

Last night I watched Dave Letterman and was reminded how ‘anti-Bush administration’ he’s become. Immediately after the 911 attacks he was so pro-administration that he subscribed to the notion it could do no wrong. Anyway, he made a joke about why the world hates us and linked it to our innovative technology.

The fact is, the world doesn’t hate us. What they object to is government policies descended from the ‘my way or the highway Cowboy Diplomacy’ Reagan years, only without the diplomacy.

In my travels I’ve experienced much kindness and good will interacting with people on a one-to-one basis. Sure, there have been moments it wasn’t – like the afternoon I was walking the streets in Marseille at the height of the second Iraq war, or the screaming teenagers in the suburbs outside Paris.

I’d like to think our government is now changing, just like Dave, and moving away from these polices that separate our global community. It’s been just two weeks and time will tell us the answer.

For more of Steve and Christine’s blogs and writing, click here

Written by Steve Smith & Christine Johnson

Border-less Wildlife

On the little stretch of Caprivi, where the colonial politics of the
past have arbitrarily divided the land into Namibia, Botswana, Zambia,
and Angola, wildlife knows no borders. The river here serves as the
divide, and its name changes every hundred miles or so. Birds here are
as colorful as I’ve ever seen. Carmine bee-eaters sunbathe on low
branches, and I photograph them in all their magnificence as they let
me get surprisingly close. Neither them nor the elephants that cross
the river need passports. I wish I had the same kind of freedom. At
dusk, when the light is still good, hippos and crocs peek out of the
river, looking like they were chiseled out of fine black granite.
Reeds and papyrus shelter shy buffaloes and aquatic antelopes.

Written by Sarit Reizin

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