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And, of course they know what to do about water. For instance, in the early morning, you can collect dewdrops from leaves that were carefully laid out the previous evening. Or a plume of grass can be a reservoir. And if you have the know-how, an insignificant clump of twigs can tell you where to dig and you come to light with an enormous tuber. You scrape shavings off it with a stick that is split to give it a sharp edge. You take a handful of the shavings, point your thumb at your mouth and squeeze. They must be the most contented people in the world. They have no crime, no punishment, no violence, no laws, no police, judges, rulers or bosses. They believe that the gods put only good and useful things on the earth for them to use.
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Are you scared it'll spoil your image if you admit you made a mistake?
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Do you speak English? You are free to remain silent until you have seen your lawyer. But if you choose to speak now, whatever you say will be taken down as evidence against you.
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Find him...and kill him...yourself.
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Humans avoid the Kalahari like the plague because man must have water to live. So the beautiful landscapes are devoid of people. Except for the little people of the Kalahari. Pretty, dainty, small and graceful, the Bushmen. Where any other person would die of thirst in a few days they live quite contentedly in this desert that doesn't look like a desert. They know where to dig for roots and bulbs and tubers and which berries and pods are good to eat.
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I don't want to talk about it.
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I don't want to talk about it.
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I don't want to talk about it.
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I noticed.
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I Stopped them. Sir!
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In fact these Bushmen have never seen a stone or a rock in their lives. The hardest things they know are wood and bone. They live in a gentle world, where nothing is as hard as rock, or steel or concrete.
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Lately, strange new things sometimes appeared in the sky. Noisy birds that flew without flapping their wings.
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One day, a very noisy animal rushed past where Xi was sleeping. It left very peculiar tracks, as if two enormous snakes had slithered past.
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Only 600 miles to the south, there's a vast city. And here you find civilized man. Civilized man refused to adapt himself to his environment. Instead he adapted his environment to suit him. So he built cities, roads, vehicles, machinery. And he put up power lines to run his labour-saving devices. But he some how didn't know when to stop. The more he improved his surroundings to make life easier the more complicated he made it. So now his children are sentenced to 10 to 15 years of school, just to learn how to survive in this complex and hazardous habitat they were born into. And civilized man, who refused to adapt to his surroundings now finds he has to adapt and re-adapt every hour of the day to his self-created environment. For instance, if the day is called Monday and the number 7:30 comes up, you have to dis-adapt from your domestic surroundings and re-adapt yourself to an entirely different environment. 8:00 (8-double-zero) means everybody has to look busy. 10:30 (ten-three-zero) says means you can stop looking busy for 15 minutes. And then, you have to look busy again. Your day is chopped into pieces. In each segment of time you adapt to new cir****stances.
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She thinks I'm a lunatic and I don't blame her. You know she asked me what do I do? And I said I collect manure. I don't tell her that I analyze it for my doctoral thesis. I bet she thinks that I shovel the stuff.