Gi's a Song...

Last night was one of those perfect nights. For the first time, I thought, 'there's something special about this place'. It started with the mokoro trip. It's hard to describe how beautiful, how tranquil it was. The water was mirror-like, reflecting the setting sun, and the shadows of the reeds, flowers and trees.

After dinner, the circle around the fire was widened, and we, the Nomad group sat on one side, with the guides and polers – about fifteen of them – standing on the other. It began almost organically. They were talking and laughing amongst themselves, you'd hear the odd snatch of melody, some laughter. Then, gradually, a rhythm developed, a foot-stamping beat, and suddenly they were all singing. It was brilliant – soothing, yet exciting, and unexpectedlyl moving. I looked around and everyone was wearing the same silly grin as I was. This wasn't an act. I had the impression that they'd be quite happy to sing and dance like this even if we weren't there – and the ragtag clothing (one guy wearing an Aussie rugby shirt and combats, an old woman wearing a raincoat) only added to the authenticity. They seemed to be having a wonderful time, and we were quickly sucked in. This was so much more as it should have been with the bushman dancers in Ghanzi.

And then, finally, they asked us to reciprocate. Now, try and imagine, if you will, trying to cobble twelve nationalities into some sort of choir. Too much TV, I think, as we all 'know' songs – but that seems to mean only knowing the first verse and the chorus. Leah led us off with 'In the Jungle', which worked quite well, since there were so many simple rythms that everyone could pick it up. After five minutes of prevaricating, I said, 'Does anyone know “Irish Rover”'. Heidi – from the Faroe Islands – did, so the two of us quickly taught the rest the chorus, then the two of us sung it, with the others joining in when they could. It went down rather well, even though I do say so myself. We were struggling for material a tad, and it was a shame we couldn't do better – perhaps Nomad should issue song sheets on the first day of the tour, in future. In fact, I think that'd be a great idea, as the locals had put on such a great show. It felt great to be able to sing something back to them, and a shame we couldn't sing more. This was a true 'cultural experience'. They weren't doing it for money, or putting on costumes, and I wouldn't have been suprised if they'd done the same thing even if we weren't there. Brilliant.

Eventually, we played a few games, then sat around telling riddles and stories. We really have lost the art of telling stories. I was telling Lisson a couple of Kipling's 'Just So' Stories the other day, and I found myself summarising, rather than actually telling the story. Rubbish.

And we did it all without a single drop of alcohol, too.

So, back in Maun for a quick shopping trip. It was great to see Lissom back at the Tautanga camp. I think we really missed him. More on why he didn't come next time, hopefully. Have to tell you all about 'Lee', too...

So,