Victoria Falls area. July 1998
The first baobab grew next to a small lake. Taller and taller it grew until it started noticing the other trees. Some were tall and slender, some had brightly coloured flowers and other others had large leaves. Then one day it saw a reflection of itself in the lake which shocked it to its root hairs: There in the mirror of the lake it saw a huge fat trunk covered in bark that looked like the wrinkled hide of an old elephant; small, tiny leaves and pale, creamy flowers.
Very upset, the baobab complained bitterly to the Creator. ‘Why did you make me so ugly?’ it wanted to know. ‘Why couldn’t you make me elegant like the palm tree with its straight and slender trunk? Why did you have to make me so big and fat?’ the baobab protested.
‘Look at the masses of bright and beautiful flowers of the flame tree! What about me? Why couldn’t you give me flowers like that?’
On and on the baobab went, wailing and bemoaning the bad deal it had been given. When it spotted the fruit on the fig trees, its indignation knew no bounds.
God was becoming more and more exasperated with the wailing and complaining of the baobab until eventually, determined to silence the baobab forever, he came down, yanked it out of the earth and replanted it upside down. From that day on the baobab could no longer see its reflection or complain. Since then, it has been working in silence, paying off its ancient transgression by being the most useful and helpful tree around.
Variations on this story are told across Africa to explain why the baobab is so unusual and yet so helpful.
One of my big "this is Africa" moments was coming across the first baobob tree. They are singularly massive and "unattractive" because they literally look like they are dead, standing trees. A myriad of myths surround them, but the one above resonated with me. Baobabs are actually very useful trees in that their leaves, bark, and seeds are medicinal and the fruit of some species is edible. They often provide shade in places where the sun beats down mercilessly. In our travels in Southern Africa we found them scattered about randomly. Each time the tree stood out in its surroundings like some kind of "cathedral" in the vast open spaces.
The growth rate of baobab trees is determined by ground water or rainfall. The trees produce faint growth rings, but counting growth rings is not a reliable way to age baobabs because some years a tree will form multiple rings and some year none. Radiocarbon dating has provided data on a few individual A. digitata specimens. The Panke baobab in Zimbabwe was some 2,450 years old when it died in 2011, making it the oldest angiosperm ever documented, and two other trees—Dorslandboom in Namibia and Glencoe in South Africa—were estimated to be approximately 2,000 years old. Another specimen known as Grootboom was dated after it died and found to be at least 1,275 years old.
(Wikipedia)
Baobobs are actually huge sponges that not only take in water through their roots but also through their branches. In the rainy season they soak up water from literally every surface. In the dry, they shed their leaves and go dormant. A single baobob can hold over 130,000 liters of water! wow. No wonder in their local scrubland context they are venerated.
Baobobs have been transplanted all over the world, but their association for most people will always be their homeland, Africa. These days they frequently appear in social media due to their unique look - huge and alien. I don't think any other kind of tree has stood out so particularly in its shape and uniqueness as the baobob in my travels.
Just as much as seeing my first giraffe indicated "you are in Africa", so it also was for coming across the first baobob.