Some of my friends are animals

Tusker

He is a 1 tusked elephant (the story behind that I wish I knew) and he comes to visit me almost everyday between 1 and 3pm. I think he just contends with the fact that I live right next to his favorite snacking tree. I hear him breaking trees and branches as he approaches but never his footsteps or animal sounds, elephants can be extremely quiet when they want to. A few minutes after the cracking and popping and rustling he appears, huge, grey, powerful -Tusker. With gentle eyes and a soft approach he goes about his snacking routine, flicking his ears and tail occasionally to let me know that he knows I exist and that's ok with him. I on the other hand revere our meeting, envy myself for being so lucky to enjoy such moments. Tusker has taught me about intimacy, not much needs to be done about it, it can be as simple as me sitting by my computer with nothing but a bit of Mosquito mesh to keep me an arm's length away from an elephant who though quite aware of my presence, munches on flowers and leafy branches, relaxed. On his own terms and approach Tusker is quite relaxed with me, and spontaneous I never know if he will show today or not. A surprise meeting in the bush though might be another story I may never live to tell. Tusker has also finally helped me understand the importance of solitude, away from the crowds I work and think better, write more. Away from the crowds Tusker eats more, travels less and is not bothered too much by green landcruisers packed with photo happy tourists.



I look forward to seeing him today.

(Yes it does bother me that I do have to give him a pet name to strengthen my bonds of affinity with him, in that way I am still human after all.)

Hippo Haiku

Full moon nights
Hippos float midstream
blissful, unaware

croc and lion- saga continues

Curious Buggers


About 6 am this morning there was tremendous roaring around camp, that woke me up really quick! But I wasn't in the mood to go and investigate, saw enough blood, gore and carnage to last me a lifetime yesterday. About 8:30 the guys called me
"Another crocodile is dead!"
"What? are you lying?"
"Yes, a rion, rion killed it?"
"Was that that noise this morning?"
"Yes, yes"
"Are you lying?"
"Yes, it was a rion exactly." "There is also a baby rion eating the crocodile now."
"Serious??"
"Exactly."

I wasn't going anywhere with the conversation so I went to go look for this "rion" myself and sure enough there are (as I write) 2 crocodiles, one is dead and the other one is nearly dead. The male and a cub are feeding on the first one while the vultures are patiently waiting nearby.


Bush Breakfast



Victim # 2

World cup in the bush

Yes the buzz is loud and kicking in the bush as well. The guys get to see the games on large screen whenever we have no guests. They are quite entertaining to watch as they yell and scold the ailing favorite team (which ever it is that day since Zambia is not participating.) I love it when the older guys go oooaaahhhhaaaa Crisiiiiaaaaano as if he is five and he has just spilt icecream all over himself in a careless move. But perhaps that's what it looks like when you are not actually playing but merely spectating. My interest in the games spreads as far as taking pictures and watching the guys as they react to what's actually happening. The other night we had some pretty demanding South Africans. They wanted to see the game after their game drive so we taped it for them and it was all we could do to keep from spilling the beans, though South Africa won they were out by virtue of something I obviously don't understand (since I don't really watch- you get my point.) It did not settle well with the ladies who had had a bit to drink and were a bit teary from all the excitement. I was just glad I didnt have to sit with them and pretend to care that SA had lost and feign my devastation.

Croc and lion - more pics

He is still out there as I write. Amazingly he is able to reduce his metabolism to almost zero, stopping the blood from gushing out and also preserving his strength. Am not sure what the outcome is going to be tomorrow morning, but if the lions don't get back for him the hyenas will definitely show up. He does have tenacity though. The vultures? They gave up ages ago when he kept lifting his head threatening to chomp them off if its the last act of aggression he had the strength to perform before checking out.

At about 5pm we witnessed some curious (read stupid) Puku edging up to him to get a sniff, they knew something was wrong because of the way he is lying in the open, hardly moving- not the signature of a usually stealthy animal that prefers to spend most of the day in murky water. Aparently there have been several fantastically recorded altercations between the lion and the crocodile over the years including the famous one which is supposed to be the most downloaded video on Youtube, it features and get this; a lion, crocodile fighting over a baby hippo. These sworn enemies though often caught sparring and exchanging blows at each other have never actually been witnessed feasting on each other's rank flesh (at least I think its rank, they probably think its too rich for the other- don't know.)

Hell hath no fury like a lioness with cubs

I was planning on sleeping in this morning when Kazembo woke me up. "Madam, Madam!" I shot up thinking, lodge is on fire, there is a riot and I am all alone, someone's drowned. no. "A crocodile has been killed by rion and George is taking car to go there!" " I'll be right there! " I yelled back as I flew out of my bed and into my tracksuit, at the door I paused and realized I was wearing my pink sleeping shirt, a practical come hither sign for any dangerous animals that might be keen for some animal on girl action. I ripped my shirt off, put on a brown earthy one in its place, grabbed my hat and camera (praying the battery wasn't flat) and flew outside where George was revving the ancient landcruiser. Kazembo stood by the laundry table folding a sheet in slow motion longingly staring at the vehicle. "Well are you coming???" and that's all it took to get him to join our impromptu game drive. It was about 8:30 am and what had happened was the lions and their cubs had been feeding on an unfortunate impala right opposite chalet 1 (as I slept!!!) when a lazy crocodile decided to waddle up and stir some sh*t hoping to get a piece of the action. The lionesses were not having it, there are 3 of them adults and 4 young ones, the impala was hardly enough to go around as is. So while the kids were at a safe distance the other 2 must have wrestled with the crocs hind legs eventually breaking them while the larger/older female went for the jugular and ripped it open leaving the crocodile with a huge gash exposing tissue, veins, and air tubes. When we got to the scene the croc had gone comatose to preserve his energy, I thought he was doornail dead. While we went hunting for the lions who we found in the shade nearby vultures got wind of the story and immediately began to congregate. As I write they must now be in their hundreds shamelessly waiting for the croc to give up the ghost. Not wanting to be eaten alive the croc would occasionally raise his head and snarl at the vultures who were duly warned but not intimidated. They know its just a matter of time.

Close inspection of croc: beautiful animal with marble green eyes and skin that looks like a rug with well placed dull colored precious stones.

Pride and Dignity

Pride –the conciousness of one’s own dignity. Today, men lost their pride, in my mind. They stood in front of children and their parents, children of privilege and education and lisped through a child’s song they could hardly string together a descend sentence of the “birthday song.” This is their work, what they have to do and they did it. It did not occur to them to control the situation and use their own words and their own way, to entertain, amuse and celebrate in lieu of being the entertainment and source of amusement. I am amazed that the very same men, are influenced by this same thing to resist education, freedom, the ability to dream and have possibilities. Or perhaps they resist the medium and the methods implemented. I find it hard to imagine or assume that THIS is what they want. Granted I have my own selfish ambitions, my sense of “social responsibility.” In their shoes, I would sooner swallow my pride in pursuit of freedom, than be content in stooping so low, and staying there. I hate being told what to do, but I don’t hate it when I know that its for my benefit, my betterment, my golden ticket to freedom, self entitlement to the consiousness of my own dignity, my pride.

Sex and the bush

We had 15 minutes with the Puku the other day; doe eyed creatures with golden honey hides. A male stuck his front leg in between a female to check her condition ( a pick up line as we call it in human terms.) She appeared indifferent to his proposal so he assumed she was game to his approach. Though her actions seemed to say no, she did move her tail slightly to reveal her genitals. As he made ready to mount, she deftly stepped aside. This did not deter him, the sun was going down fast and his needs became forthright. He made a second and third attempt but his efforts were turned into a complicated courting dance with the female playing hard to get. He gave it a rest and we soon moved away, he had 6 other females in his territory who might have been more receptive to his advances so I am confident that he did succeed in the end. As the sun escaped from yet another warm beautiful day, the herd of Puku ladies and their leading man carried on with their life of grazing and watching while subtly enacting the complicated game of mating. Life has to go on.

Lion Camp-1

A large carnivorous feline mammal (Felis leo), found in Southern Asia and in most parts of Africa, distinct varieties occurring in the different countries. The adult male, in most varieties, has a thick mane of long shaggy hair that adds to his apparent size, which is less than that of the largest tigers. The length, however, is sometimes eleven feet to the base of the tail. The color is a tawny yellow or yellowish brown; the mane is darker, and the terminal tuft of the tail is black. In one variety, called the maneless lion, the male has only a slight mane.





At breakfast this morning I was greeted with some unexpected news. It seems the lions we went looking for last night had come looking for us and were waiting patiently not 800m across the water. (I had threatened Oscar not to return to the camp until and unless we had encountered some lions, preferably hunting!) Needless to say breakfast became a hurried affair.

5 minutes later we had crossed the river and were searching the long grass for the lioness and her cubs, the male we had seen earlier heading deep into the Savanna thicket. Once again the lions managed to surprise us, we almost drove past the male who was sleeping just a stone’s throw away, he looked like he had had a long night which he was now fitfully sleeping off. Further off the cubs lay camouflaged in the tall grass. As we approached them they seemed relaxed and not at all bothered by us. They hardly stirred as we edged on closer, probably had also had a late night. 15 minutes later they started stirring a little pawing playfully at each other and yawning lazily at the sun. The two brothers necked lovingly in a bonding ritual as the sun kissed their pock marked skin. They were content, safe with not a care in the world. From our vantage point all the chalets were in full view and it wouldn’t take long to spot us if any of the guests were on their balconies or our viewing deck. This is what happened to our only guests (new managers from the neighbouring camp) we spotted them standing on the balcony with their binoculars trained at us trying to figure out what was going on, this didn’t take long. I could imagine the deflated excitement of being a part of something exciting but not close enough to enjoy the full effect.



There is something really mysterious about lions. They could rip you apart if they wanted to, but at the same time they look so cuddly. Can you imagine what humans look like to animals? They must think we're so weird.
Lee Ryan

A lion among women is a most dreadful thing.
William Shakespear

Bush-ism 2- With friends like these

weavers are gregarious and communal, chatty and highly strung I believe

I have lived a fairly gregarious life. I have a friend for every occasion, a wardrobe of colorful frocks and accessories. At times I do enjoy my company but before long I become restless, chatty and want to touch someone, listen, laugh, cry and have that human connection that is malleable to different forms. In the bush, I have my thoughts which I am struggling with. Its hard to present a criticism on oneself without feedback or someone to point out the biases. With others life is always active and vocal, more tactile.

I am learning to be with me, and so far we are a gloomy pair. I find her needy, full of fear and generally moody. She is afraid of being alone and I am afraid to know this about her for I can't do much about it and I don't like that she is so vulnerable so sensitive to this need of not being alone. She wants to be heard, to be debated with, to be looked at, to be touched, to be understood, to be selfish, jealous and wanting and at the same time she wants to be herself though herself seems to have a lot to do with being among others.

I will be a weaver after all, and never be alone with lots of opportunities for want, jealousy and gregarious living. Alive

Bush-ism 1- On enemies

Its best to face your enemy head-on, face to face, this way you know what's coming

I have begun an enchanted life along the lines of what Karen Blixen or Kuki Gallman might have experienced in their Africa time. The only difference is I am neither an aristocrat nor am I from Europe. I am African discovering Africa as an adult, coming to terms with is savage beauty, harsh realities and superstitious parallel existence. I look forward to look out of myself and see something I like, I look forward to challenging myself in varied tests of endurance both physical and cerebral. I look forward to live with no constraints and to release myself from whatever holds me back from being truly free, truly unafraid, truly alive. I may never achieve my goals, but I know I will never walk this way again and I will never have this opportunity presented to me in this way again so I must use it. The difference between here and elsewhere is the horizon is always further and wider afield, I have so much space to breathe, dream, err and run, laugh, cry and possibly love. I hesitate with the last one for I wish to be liberated from what ruled and controlled me. It seems I have existed thus far for 3 things, to make money, succeed and to find love. That has been my definition of beauty, of happiness and joy. But perhaps I am not as narrow as I allowed myself to be. Perhaps there is more to me, perhaps I am really interesting and multi dimensional, perhaps I really am my own person with unique thoughts, feelings and desires, perhaps I truly am destined for greatness -whatever that is. Perhaps this is an opportunity to find out and come to some sort of realization. So my fear is that of finding out that there is really not much to me, that perhaps I need to identify with someone in order to locate myself as a full being.