Covane Community Lodge
After saying goodbye to Chris, Patrick and our Swedish friends (who had been thoroughly entertaining) we set off for Covane Community Lodge. Covane Community Lodge is a community owned lodge on the edge of Massingir Dam. They focus on boat trips, self-drive house boats and community activities and tours. We were greeted by Ronalda, Tinus and Solemo. Tinus immediately remarked on my legs which now resembled those of a crab which had been in a boiling pot for too long. It wasn’t long and we were on our first activity, a visit to the community to meet the Nduna (chief) and see the local village school. However upon arriving we became aware that the village was an important meeting. Apparently a woman had been accused of trying to poison her husband’s three other wives and she was pleading her case.
Jake’s new name…
There was one member of the village who was not present at the meeting. This was because he had been asked to leave as he was extremely inebriated. Dragging his old military jacket through the dirt he stumbled over to where we were. Out of the blue he started staring at Jake and yelling “Danny”. Jake did a classic check over the shoulder but to no avail as we were literally the only two pale skinned white people in the area. He continued to slur “Danny” at Jake who regrettably told him that he was in fact not Danny. This didn’t seem to go down well I suspect Patrick thought that Jake was having him on. Anyways after Solemo explained to him who we were he seemed to calm down. His name was Patrick and he was extremely drunk. He took a liking to Jake and kissed his hand a few times then he was off. Funnily enough on our way out of the park a few days later we encountered a much cleaner and sober Patrick in the village. He had no recollection of the previous meeting and again called Jake “Danny”. He was astounded that we knew his name.
The vuvuzela and the hippo…
That night we heard the blasting of vuvuzelas in the distance and immediately felt like we were back in the Fifa Soccer World Cup which was rather unusual in that there was no football stadium for hundreds of kilometers. After enquiring with the staff the next morning we were informed that the vuvuzelas are actually an excellent anti hippo device and were being blasted to scare hippo off from feeding on the locals’ crops.

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