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Rain falling by the bucket-loads, insisting that I skip this country altogether and move on to browner, dryer pastures elsewhere. And so I sat in my room in Tlokweng, thinking about Namibia. But when you travel for years, not months, you can’t let seasonality get in your way. And I’m glad I couldn’t, not just because of Jacky’s poetry and the lushness of the Delta, but also because of the little coincidence that landscaped my path across several other countries over the months that followed: that road trip through a bunch of memorable stories in Namibia, the return to Botswana and the intimacy of these rural villages and Peace Corps outposts, the waterfall wedding in Zimbabwe, and all the little in-betweens.
passages FROM A TO B | To those born into the lush maze that is the Okavango Delta, navigating the cryptic waterways on a Mokoro must come as naturally as walking. Propelled by pushing a pole into the muddy ground beneath the shallow waters, the slender canoe glides like an arrow through the marshland, undetected by hippos or else... While in many parts of the world the only remnants of such traditions are lackluster tourism interpretations, the Mokoro is a standard way of transporting goods and getting from A to B until today.
Okavango Delta / Botswana · 2017