What does
peace mean to you, and where do you find it?
Is it lying
in a hot bath with a good book and a glass of wine, or doing yoga? Losing
yourself in your favourite music, or going for a walk in a park. Climbing a
mountain, going to the beach, or perhaps taking a drive. Or is it the wind in your hair as you explore tar and gravel on a motorbike?
For me, I am
at peace when I am in the air. It doesn’t matter what I’m flying; all that’s
important is that I am flying. The problems of the world just disappear as soon
as the wheels leave the ground. It’s invigorating.
But today I
found a different kind of peace. It was a sense of peace with the world, a sort
of serenity, beauty, and complete relaxation. I didn’t have to be in the air to
find this peace, no, I found it whilst in a mokoro, navigating one of the many
thousands of water ways of the Okavango Delta.
Upon
arriving at Nxabega Tented Camp for a night stop, I asked if there was any
space on the game drive. There wasn’t, but they did have room on a mokoro. I
had never been on a mokoro before, so this was going to be great! I imagined it
would be similar to the boat, but it was so much better.
In the year
that I have been living and working in Botswana, I have had the opportunity to
go on a few game drives, and a couple of boat trips. Every now and then, it’s a
welcoming experience to go on the boat – as opposed to on a game drive – as it
gives you a different perspective of nature; it’s quieter for one, and you get
to see all sorts of little bugs and critters and birdlife that lives in or near
the water, that you wouldn’t be able to see from a vehicle.
 |
| A Pied Kingfisher hovers above the water, hunting for its next snack |
Going on a
mokoro just adds a whole new dimension to that. It’s SO quiet; there’s no
engine noise, you can barely hear the water lapping against the hull. It’s just
you and nature. And even though we didn’t say any big game, we saw so much more
than what you would on a game drive.
Like, fish
darting beneath the water (and coming to an abrupt halt as the went head-first
into a clump of reeds), insects balancing on spindly legs as they make their
way from lily pad to lily pad, having dragon flies follow us, almost as if in
formation with the mokoro. Seeing the clouds reflected in the water. It’s truly
phenomenal, and relaxing. Even the
thought of knowing that if there is a hippo nearby it could easily tip us over wasn’t enough to
destroy the peace.
I was happy
to sit back, relax, and take it all in, so much so that I almost dozed off a
few times.
When you’re
in a tiny floating vessel, looking up at this great big blue sky, it makes you
feel so small and insignificant, and you realise that there is this whole huge
world out there, just waiting to be explored. But we’re so caught up in our
urban lives where it’s a cycle of working and sleeping, and focusing on
technology and social media, and running around trying to earn enough to put
food on the table, while staying up to date with the latest gossip and
political drama.
But is that
really living? There’s no beauty in that. We are so caught up in this routine
that we forget to stop and look around us, and see what we have. See what we’re
missing.
On the drive
back to camp from the mokoro station, we stopped in a clearing. The sun had
just about set and the horizon was only just visible in the distance. The guide
switched off the engine and lights, and said “We are going to listen.”
For a
nanosecond there was complete silence. And then all of a sudden there was a
cacophony of noise, like being at a rock concert, deafening, but different.
Nature was all around us, and our ears were assaulted. Crickets chirped from
every direction, frogs croaked at one another, bats squeaked and the whizzed
across the air like ghosts. It felt as if the entire earth, the entire universe,
was bearing down on us. And it was almost overwhelming- the sounds of nature,
raw, untouched wilderness. That is beauty, and freedom, and serenity.
Being able
to experience just a minute of that is living. That is what I love so much
about being able to live and work in a place where I am afforded the
opportunity to experience the simple things in life.
