Botswana, Hurry Up and Wait

The lifestyle is completely different. The living conditions while not bad, take some getting used to; things like going from shopping store to shopping store to see who had stock of what that week, and who had jacked up their prices to astronomical amounts. But despite being a village in Africa, Maun has most things you’d get in any small city.

The flying is also something else (obviously, going from instruction to charter). It’s quite a big leap, especially when operating from muddy strips, in hot conditions, fully loaded and at altitude. It’s an eye opener of note. But the view is something to behold. Stark contrasts between brown desert, blue waters and green swamps teeming with wildlife.

The skies are bright blue with unlimited visibility on some days, and on others the smoke and dust means that seeing more than a kilometre or two is the best you’re going to get. And the storms show the true power of nature. Slow build ups during the day, with rumbling thunder and cracks of lightning announcing the arrival of a torrential downpour. The next morning the air is fresh, and the roads have a clean look about them. A few days later the trees get greener and grass sprouts from the sand on the side of the road.

The road has been a winding one, but not particularly long (unless you count that fact that, technically, I have waited some two years for this opportunity).
Since arriving in Maun (start of October), I spent about 1 month doing a lot of nothing. Once the paperwork was done for the work permit, it was very much a game of Hurry Up And Wait. Every day, from 8am to 5pm, spent alternating between helping in the office, and taking a break in the pilot room, made me realise I am not cut out for a desk job.

Trips to the terminal to file flight plans were welcomed, as were any other errands; basically anything that kept me moving, and got me out of the office, improved my mood. And then of course, I was able to jump on some flights and get familiar with the Okavango Delta. I was doing so many flights observing from the right seat of the Caravan that I was starting to become quite proficient at the procedures required to operate it.

Days blur into one out here; there are no longer different days of the week, every day is the same, just a different date. Everyone’s weekend is different, and soon the whole concept of a Saturday-Sunday weekend falls away completely. Really messes with the mind in the beginning.

A lot of patience is required. The work permit application can take anything from two weeks to several months. And if it is rejected, well, sorry for you. Public holidays and the build up to Christmas threaten to slow things down even more. It becomes stressful, and it’s easy to start thinking about the “What If’s”. But, you need to stay positive; rock up in the office every morning with a smile on your face, and display some enthusiasm.

Because the normal days of the week cease to exist, days feel like weeks, and weeks feel like months. “Was my work permit in its second or third week?” were normal thoughts for me. “Oh well, I’ll go check on the progress anyway”.

Good thing too. A decision had been made! But, they weren’t going to tell me, and I would have to wait another day or two.

Long story short (not really), I was granted a temporary work permit! I may now legally work in Botswana! Woohoo!

Relief, joy, happiness, and yet, I’m still too scared to accept that all of this has really happened; in the past things would always tend to take a turn for the worst as soon as I acknowledged them. Ever since being offered the job, I have been too scared to share the news, or accept that it has happened, lest it all turn out to be a dream. Reality still hasn’t sunk in.

Which is a little bit disconcerting. However, all of it feels right. It feels like I have been living here for years. I am settled, I have a routine, and while I do miss home (the South African one), I am happy out here.