The sun in your hand.
Did you know, there’s no precise definition of a tree.
All sorts of distantly related plants can be trees if they stump for it.
Grasses, ferns, or really anything with a trunk and a dream.
Scientists have tried to impose some rules on the chaos.
Baobab trees, I suspect, tow the line.
In Tanzania’s northern savannahs, they pepper the landscape; quixotic giants towering above the sea of acacias.
Some context is probably warranted here.
I’m an anthropologist – a researcher who studies us, humans, in all our tremendous diversity.
I am also a capital-G Gamer.
Gaming is my refuge.
My way to unwind after a hard day’s work.
Unfortunately, gaming and fieldwork don’t readily mix.
I suppose the easiest solution is to take a break.
Crack a book; touch grass; digitally detox.
If you want to spread your leaves, you need three things.
Second, a hefty power bank with a hefty throughput.
Third, a portable games console.
Those, at least, are the basics.
But like most things, it’s not always so simple.
First there’s the electricity problem.
Energy is needed for almost everything.
Want to take photos?
Want to check emails or call your spouse on a tenuous EDGE internet connection?
Jumpstart the car in an emergency?
Juice c’mon!
Juice, juice, juice.
So, you must ruthlessly optimise.
You must juggle all these tradeoffs and leave some power in the bank for a literal rainy day.
Those brief, baobab-shaded gaming sessions can’t last long, and they need to count.
But this time I got a better offer.
Eurogamer’s own Chris Donlan lent me the office Playdate.
You know the one.
It ticks every box.
The battery lasts days.
The monochrome screen sips power.
Also, might I add, it looks supremely photogenic juxtaposed against a backdrop of baobabs.
So I left Christo reconnect with his Game Boy, and headed off with the Playdate in my pocket.
And the Playdate is perfect.
In so many ways.
The games are charming little snacks.
Sublime coffee-shop or park-bench fodder.
A collection of whimsies and follies and sugary dainties that showcasethe quirks and peculiarities of the hardware.
But somehow they’re notnourishing.
What you do not need isInventory Hero.
My goodness I tried.
NotquiteApocalypse Now Brando, burbling about unspecified horrors, but closer than ideal.
So I cut my losses.
My academic work is also about nourishment.
About how rational people adjust their behaviour to prosper in different environments.
How they carefully pick the right foods and the right tools to forage them.
But it seems less obvious some games should be better adapted for savannah-living than others.
Yet, somehow, one’s environment snakes its roots into even this part of one’s life.
After all that faff though, it’s good, savannah gaming.
I’m sure outdoors purists will blanch at the idea.
Some people head to the wilderness to escape electronics.
With a little forethought, the wilderness will accommodate us gamers.
Do note though, it has to be the right console.
The Playdate has its place too, of course.
But it thrives where it was built to thrive.
It thrives in the airport coffee shop.
And it thrives on the flight back home.
