Archive for October, 2008
Wild Dog Chase
Friday, October 31st, 2008
We’ve met our match, and it’s the wild dog. Our check list is almost complete. We found almost all rare animals we set out to see, but the elusive wild dog – it numbers only in the few thousand for all of Africa – has evaded us. We knew Hluhluwe-iMfolozi Nature Reserve had them, and for two days straight roamed its dirt roads in search of the elusive animal. We were not the only ones. Apparently some of the dogs had radio collars, and besides countless photographers and tourists trying to catch a glimpse, there were people with antennas and radio receivers. We tried to follow them at some point, but they had no luck either. Finally we found the pack. We could see them in the distance, just finishing a meal of fresh killed antelope. We stopped and watched them until they took off again. They were running towards a dirt road we knew all too well by now. This was our chance to cut them off and get our shot, but starting up a hill we realized our back left tire was completely flat. Cautions to the wind but keeping in mind the lions we saw yesterday in the vicinity, Shurik got out of the car and used our last tire patch to plug the hole. We pumped up the tire a bit and set off again, only to realize that the same wheel had another puncture. I and Vova were stumped, but Shurik quickly fashioned a patch out of duct tape. We were mobile again, but it was too late to catch up with the dogs. Close, but no cigar. Shockingly, Shurik’s inventive patch still holds.
Though our minds were set on photographing the wild dogs, it was hard to ignore the rest of the animals in the park. It was like the 1st of September. Everywhere we looked, pre-K candidates were stumbling out the bushes on shaky feet, hiding behind moms’ bums. The sight could melt the coldest of hearts. A young zebra foal is nothing but striped bushy mane and legs, a baby vervet monkey is all pink ears, and a rhino calf cannot be more adorable in a defensive stance with its bump of a horn next to his quietly grazing mother – her horn the length of his whole head.
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KwaZulu-Natal
Thursday, October 30th, 2008
I hate the pace we are going at now, but it cannot be helped – we still need to complete data collection in South Africa and Madagascar before Vova goes to the US to write his portion of the book and we stay behind to meet with him again in Ethiopia two months later.
We swung through Swaziland – a surprisingly developed country considering the only piece of news I remember hearing about it was that of King Mswati kidnapping a local girl during the annual reed dance ceremony when he was supposed to choose yet another wife.
Zigzagging to and from South Africa’s east coast (KwaZulu-Natal province), we are either in the highlands or underwater. Diving here hasn’t impressed me much yet. The visibility is better, but with the absence of manta rays and whale sharks the eye itches for something more then just spiky-tailed surgeonfish and psychedelic nudibranchs. If you think I’m spoiled, you are absolutely right.
boxfish
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Birds of Prey
Wednesday, October 29th, 2008
hornbill (foreground) and starling (background)
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Ground Hornbill
Monday, October 27th, 2008
lashes to die for
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Praying Mantis
Sunday, October 26th, 2008
Great and strange creatures visited us even before we got to Kruger National Park…
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Lion Overdose
Saturday, October 25th, 2008
It took us less than a minute to spot a lion as we entered the gates of Kruger National Park. We didn’t even bother slowing down. Lions in Kruger are traffic-jam animals – the herd of cars around them is a sight on its own. I wonder what lions think when their sleep under a thorny tree is disturbed by engine roars and an occasional angry outburst from a tourist whose view becomes abstracted by yet another inching car.
What snobs we have become, turning our sunburned noses away from the king of the jungle, head member of the big five. Only that we’ve seen “the big five” so many times already, they impress us less and less. The phrase “big five” is said to have been coined by hunters and then carried on by game drive guides to describe five of the most dangerous and difficult to kill animals of Africa: lion, leopard, elephant, rhino, and buffalo. But anybody who has had a chance to step beyond the gates of their lodge knows that the phrase is entirely made up to hype up big and not-so-rare animals to uh and ah over them when you do see them. In truth, only leopard is a bit harder to spot in the African bush. The rest will be seen if you go to the right parks, and most of them will not eat you unless you try to eat them. Not to mention that the number one most dangerous animal, the hippo, which claims a few thousand lives per year in Africa, is not even included in “the big five”.
The park is overflowing with amazing, interesting animals that, unlike the lion, actually walk around during the day and not just lay flat panting in the shade of trees and bushes. Them I photograph, enjoying the absence of a whole parking lot of cars to chase me away before I get my perfect shot.
Nevertheless, lions are to be respected and feared. Kruger is famous for idiot tourists who come out of their cars to get a better look at a pride and make the front page as very colorful photos, shot by traumatized-for-life onlookers. I thought stories about people being mauled by lions are mostly to scare visitors straight, but my next interview proved different. I met up with one of KNP’s media coordinators to discuss our visit, but soon realized his mind was somewhere else. When I asked what was wrong, he replied that earlier that day a friend of his, a ranger, had been taking tourists out on a “walking safari” when they encountered a lioness with cubs. The ranger tried to walk around her, but the lioness charged anyway. He fired two warning shots, after which she attacked him before he had a chance to make another shot. As we spoke, the ranger was in surgery.
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Ace in a Deck
Friday, October 24th, 2008
Joker is my name, song and dance is my game. I twirl and chirp to bureaucrats’ delight, and they grant me passes, demonstrating their might.
Usually being the most communicative (ok, talkative) of the three, I end up doing the talking, or, as we call it “our song and dance”. Be it for the department of National parks or the traffic police, I give an improvised standup performance on demand. Almost all of the various wildlife ministries of the African countries we’ve visited have had surprisingly delightful officials who responded very well to my “We are three, but we hate to overwhelm, so we’ve sent the smallest one of us” (insert big smile here) tactic. But on our way out of Mozambique, traffic cops, greedy and spoiled by bribes from South African tourists, required a new and improved performance.
Vova had successfully avoided ninety nine percent of road blockades. According to him, “if there are no weapons in sight, there is no reason to stop.” But a few policemen did actually bother standing in the middle of the road blinding us with spotlights, so we didn’t risk running them over and had to stop. The cops didnn’t even bother disguising their attempts to pick on something to fine us for. They stopped the car as if for an inspection, but didn’t even bother looking for drugs or weapons. Seeing I didn’t have my seatbelt on, one policeman skipped with joy (no joke) and pointed to me with unhidden delight in his eyes: “Aha! I fine you!” After driving all day and most of the night, I was in the mood for entertainment, so instead of performing a drama, I chose physical comedy. This was especially appropriate and amusing: we made the officer understand that we spoke neither Portuguese nor English, only Russian. Leaving Shurik and Vova in the car, I blabbed about everything that came to mind, trying not to burst out laughing watching the policeman’s confused face. I took him on a tour of the car, showing him our wheels and telling him how we had a flat in Zambia, accompanying the rhetoric with comic sounds, but the man had patience. Whenever he got a chance to slide in a word or two, which was difficult, he kept explaining my wrongdoing and demanding 4000 rand (about $400) to let me go. I made sure he understood I understood nothing. Finally I managed to break his stern exterior with a flamboyant pantomime act demonstrating the absence of firearms among our camping equipment in the trunk which looked like a war zone. The words “no bum-bum” have brought all men, both inside the car and out, to tears, but only the cop was literally jumping with frustration. It was hopeless. He had to let us go.
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