A Piece of Civilization

August 3, 2008

After living in the bush for a couple of months in a country that would never allow me to make a phone call or use my credit card or even dry my hair half the time, I made the decision that I was going to spend the weekend in Johannesburg. Johannesburg, or as most people refer to it, Jo’burg, is as close to modern civilization as you’re going to get in Africa. In Zimbabwe I was sleeping in a twin bed in a small room with a concrete floor and thatched roof. I would have cat called, “Anti-Christ” slip through my window and crawl in bed with me at night, an impala try to sneak in my room and steal my granola bars (those of you who know me know I didn’t mind this very much). I would take a shower outside in the freezing cold. At night I would sleep in half my wardrobe just to keep warm. This was a big adjustment for a high-maitance urban girl. So I thought I would treat myself to little bit a luxury. Nothing too fancy, I didn’t want to set myself back too far. I found myself a nice hotel/village not far from the airport. I had a mini-apartment complete with everything I was looking for… big bed, lounge, in-room internet service, desk, mini-kitchen and (drum roll, please) my own private BIG bathroom… Italian marble tiles, bathtub and walk-shower…HEAVEN! Guess what I did my first night? I order room service! A personal pizza with CHEESE, real CHEESE! I haven’t had cheese in almost two months! AND… A Coke Light! Hey, it’s not Diet Coke, but I’m night complaining. In my little piece of Heaven I was able to sort out my Visa card, book my flight to Uganda and make my hotel arrangements, finally talk to my Grandmother, Skype-talk with friends for close to an hour, fax documents to my mortgage company… basically everything I couldn’t do in Zimbabwe.

Now that I’m sorted out… Uganda here I come!

Farewell Zimbabwe

Knowing I wouldn’t have the secure umbrella and excursion planning skills of the expert team at Antelope Park, I knew it was in my best interest to arrive in Uganda a good week prior to my gorilla tracking safari just to get my bearings on my new environment. Saying “Goodbye” to the friends I had made in Zimbabwe was not easy. I was leaving knowing I may never see them again, but also feeling very concerned about their future. I had more than a connection to the country, I had a connection to the animals which I care so much about, but more importantly, the people who I now care very much for.
I thank all of you for challenging me on my decision to not only go to Zimbabwe, but to spend such a long period of time in a country stricken with such poverty and political instability. Your concern for my safety and wellbeing truly meant a lot to me. Please know that going to Zim was not just about petting the cute lions. Believe it or not, this can be done in several countries. It was about being part of the ALERT team and volunteering at an orphanage IN Zimbabwe. There are so many countries, especially in Africa, that need volunteers. I couldn’t think of children anywhere needing help and love more at this time than in a country where a self proclaimed president was prohibiting this act of kindness and support. Before leaving California I had a conversation with a colleague, Pia from The Sacramento Bee’s Editorial Board. She was giving me some great advice, “whatever you do, don’t share your political views once you’re in Zimbabwe”. I assured her that that was not my objective or my business. As my friend Aaron was driving me to the airport in Harare, he purposely drove me passed the home of President Robert Mugabe. I felt such a rage of anger. I wanted to jump on the roof of the van and demand he come out and listen to what I had to say. I wanted to force him to look at the pictures of the children in the orphanage that receive NO support from his government. I wanted to inform him that hundreds of children are turned away from the orphanage each month due to lack of availability. I wanted to show him pictures of how Virginia’s family and most of the children don’t have shoes and the ones that do don’t fit. I wanted to show him a picture of my friend who works on the cleaning staff and her sweet baby boy, Julius who is ill and tell him how she can’t afford his doctor bill and medication… $20. I wanted to tell him about the lion handlers who show up for work every day even though their salary doesn’t cover their cost of living due to the out of control inflation rate. They usually rely on tips from tourist to help get by but the tourist have stop coming. I want to tell him about the abandon cottages at the once world renowned Hwange National Park and how all but one of the watering holes are now empty... YOU’RE KILLING YOUR WILD GAME! I no longer want to have a conversation with this man; I wanted a go at him. I became convinced that I can take him. After all, he’s 85 and short. If I can somehow get him alone, I’m pretty sure I can take him. Instead, I took a deep breath and watched the compound pass by feeling defeated, unable to do anything. I hated that feeling. Although I couldn’t remove Mugabe and fix all of Zimbabwe’s problems, I am trying to accept that I made a small difference. My Grandmother’s neighbor, Mrs. Sigler kindly gave me some money and ask that I help others in need, so I paid for baby Julius’ doctor bill. With the contributions from the Nordberg and Deliondardo families we managed to smuggle-in two large duffels of clothing to the orphanage. I also made small donations to several members of the staff, none of which ask for a penny. I went to the orphanage every opportunity I had to help out. Mainly to just hold and play with the children who never receive this sort of attention. What I’ve noticed about my new friends from Zimbabwe is they have been kicked hard and they are worn down. You can tell when you talk to them that some are at the end of their rope. The best thing I felt I could do is be positive and give them hope. I would speak with strong confidence, as if I knew something they didn’t, of how I was certain that positive change is coming very soon to Zimbabwe.
If there is one think I want all of you to know about Zimbabwe is there was never one time that I felt unsafe. And, it is a beautiful country with loving and caring people. People who care about the decline of the African lion and are working effortlessly to reverse the situation; People that greet you with smiles and hugs each day even though they don’t know if they’ll be able to pay their bills or feed their families; People who shed a tear when it comes time for you to leave. These are the people hidden behind the headlines of the media. I will sometimes hear people say, “I wouldn’t go to Zimbabwe and support that backwards government”. Forget the government, who really suffers in a statement like that are the people.
Farewell Zimbabwe. Thank you for the life lessons, new friends, hope for the future, memories and amazing experiences I will cherish for the rest of my life.

Party Zim Style

One of the greatest things about volunteering and staying at Antelope Park for such a long period of time is the fact that you get to know the local staff on a personal level. Take Virginia for example. Several members of her family work at the park and her parents live just outside of the entrance gate. Virginia works in laundry. She actually makes doing laundry fun. A few of us at the park were invited to her parent’s house for a traditional Zimbabwe celebration. The day before the party, Sheila, a member of the cook staff gave us Shauna and Ndebele lessons. These are the two languages spoken in Zim. The lessons were too much fun! She would have us sing the vowels in both languages. The shy ones in the group were mortified. Me, I proudly belted out the unfamiliar sounds. Hans from Iceland was my conversation partner and he would have to sing with me. We had the rest of the group crying with laughter. Can you imagine it? A Baltimore-Hon accent, paired with an Icelandtic accent, singing African vowels? Could have been a Saturday Night Live skit. When we arrived to the celebration I could get by with the basic greeting and sing my vowels and that was pretty much it. When our truck pulled into the entrance we were greeted by over twenty children, all part of the family. They were smiling and waving so hard I thought their little arms would fall off. This is one BIG family. You see, Virginia’s dad has two wives. Or, as Virginia explains, she has two moms, a birth mom and her “other mom”. In Zimbabwe it is legal to have more than one wife. She also has a dozen, or more brothers and sisters. Add their children to this gathering and we had ourselves quite a party. And party it was… no time was wasted. The boys grabbed the men in the group to show them how to play the drums, while Virginia’s mom, birth mom, began to sing and dance to a traditional welcome song. Before you knew it, we were all being pulled in and taught the steps. Homemade beer was being pasted around… I forgot the name, maybe because it was SO strong. Then, we were taught how to make sudsa, a staple in a Zimbabwe meal. It’s finely ground maze that doesn’t have much of a flavor, but is usually served with some type of sauce. Before serving the meal, the women are instructed to wash the men’s hands. I thought the men from AP would eat this up but they actually looked uncomfortable when I brought over the pale of water. It is also the women’s responsibility to serve the men their dinner... on bent knee. I think I need more of the home brew. Then I was told the women needed to go and collect firewood. What?! I wanted to protest...rally the Zim women to stand up for their rights but all I could do is sing my vowels. So off I went to help collect firewood.

New Cubs Arrive!

July 26, 2008

We return to Antelope Park from our road trip to exciting news. Although Lu Lu still hasn’t given birth, we are expecting new cubs. ALERT has come across an opportunity to rescue-purchase three cubs from a canned hunting breeding facility. There are two, four month old cubs that have been kept in a small enclosure and one, nine month cub that has been house raised. The man who owns the facility has grown a bit attached to the house raised cub, Sariah, and doesn’t want to turn her over to the hunting camp. I can’t believe this asshole actually has a soft spot. The story goes, he lost his wife a year ago and Sariah became his companion but now is starting to get too big. Sariah is too human and not enough lion. When we first gave her meat, she didn’t know how to get the skin off. The lion handler actually had to cut it off for her. Can you say “spoiled”? She also thinks she is a lap cat. If you sit down, she wants to sit on you. We let this behavior slide the first two days. We figure too much change may send her into a depression. But now it’s time to learn to be a lion. She’s been teamed up with the leader of the S group. Sahara. It was not a pretty introduction. Sahara was excited to meet her to friend. Sariah? Not so much. After of few days of growling and snarling they became buds. The plan is to have them out walking in the bush together by the end of the week.

Now, let’s talk about the three month old cubs, Barbed and Razor, a.k.a The Gremlins. These were their given names and plan to be changed. Why Barded and Razor you ask? Well, their father was found caught in a poacher’s snare. Don’t let the cute little faces fool you. When I first met these two I never thought such evil sounds could come out of such little bodies. You would have thought they were auditioning for the next filming of The Exorcist. I was more afraid of them than the big boys up at the breeding program. I sat with them the day after they arrived. Believe it or not, after a couple of hours I could actually touch them. The next day they were sitting in my lap. I would not have bet a penny that this would be the case. Look at ‘em. You have to admit… they’re cute as hell. And to think they were originally being hand raised to be hunted. If this isn’t a reason to support ALERT, I don’t know what is. www.lionalert.org

Chindu Island

July 24, 2008
Mr. Conlley, owner of Antelope Park, purchased land on an island in the middle of the Zambezi just outside of Vic Falls. The name is Chindu Island and he is planning to build a five star resort on the property next year. In the meantime our little road trip group had an opportunity to camp on the island. I use the word “camp” very loosely. You see, we were served our dinner that evening on china. Get the picture? We drove through the national park for about forty minutes passing all kinds of game. My favorite… a herd of seven giraffe including a baby who could just about fit under its mom’s legs. Our van or min-bus as they are called was pulling a small trailer that held our luggage and some supplies for the island. The roads through the park were more holes than road. One item I did not bring on this journey that I wish I would have is a good support bra. We were only the second group from Antelope Park to stay at Chindu Island and our instructions were to follow the main “road” to the end and wait for the boat to pick us up. Several “ends to the road” were identified. The road completely disappears. Our driver, guardian, and friend Aaron takes the mini-bus, trailer in tow, all through the bush chasing off a herd of kudu to reach the edge of the water. Somehow we manage to find our “parking spot” and a bass-fishing-type-boat zips across to retrieve its skeptical quests. All skepticism disappears as we approach the shore. Steps are built into the white beach hill and are lit with candles to lead our way. On the landing I notice a fire ring… with a bamboo bar! I’m going to like it here! Our tents are spacious and cots comfy. There are even flushing toilets and showers in their own tented enclosure. After a sunset cruise and a dinner Rachael Ray would approve , we gather around the fire before retiring to our waterfront accommodations. I chicken out on taking a shower as I keep having visions of the baboons grubby little hands (that was for your Baz) reaching under the shower tent and grabbing my feet. I’m put to sleep that evening by the songs of the hippos…. directly outside of my tent. We wake early and are taken out for a sunrise cruise. Who needs a five star resort? I like Mr. Connelly’s property just the way it is now.

Crossing the Border to Botswana for the Day

July 25, 2008

Not far from Victoria Falls is the border of Botswana and one of Animal Plant’s most featured game parks, Chobe. How could I be so close and not pay a visit? The rest of my fellow travelers felt the same way… so off we went with passports in hand to spend the day at Chobe National Park on safari. Before arriving to the park we passed a small town. It was very clear we were no longer in Zimbabwe. There were no lines at the banks, all of the stores were open and shoppers were exiting with bags stuffed with goods. The real surprise was waiting for us in the park. Wildlife everywhere… and in large quantities. You would just see one hippo, you would see hundreds of hippos, same with eles, stable, crocs…. Oh My God, the Crocs! The highlight had to have been the performance by the eles. After a beautiful game drive around the park and along the beach, we were dropped off at a dock to board a boat for a safari lunch cruise. The boat would take us straight up to crocs, hippo and buffalo. At one point, a herd of elephant decided to cross the river as we were passing. They swan directly in front of our boat. I could have reached out and touched one of them. As they were making their way across, a few were playing by trying to push each other and squirt one another with water. What a show. I really think they were showing off. Another special treat was spotting wild lions. We all agreed that Chobe exceeded our expectations. This little taste of Botswana has me looking forwarding to coming back in a couple of months to experience Maun and the Okavango Delta. The Delta has a lot to live up to after Chobe. I look forward to the comparison.

Victoria Falls

July 22nd
After an overnight stay at camp Miombo near Hwange National Park, we hit the road around 7:30am and head for Victoria Falls. The journey takes about two hours. When we are about 30 kilometers away, the powerful spray from the falls can be seen in the distance. Our excitement builds. As soon as we arrive to the lodge, we throw our bags in our rooms and pile back in the van to head to the falls. From the lodge we can hear the thunder calling us. The charge is $20 to enter the park and hike around to several viewing points. Here we are at one of the Seven Wonders of the World and there is no line to get in. As we walk through the park and approach the first view point, we only pass a dozen or so visitors. We turn the corner of the path and I lose my breath. It is even larger than I imagined. The sheer force of the water creates such a thundering sound you can feel it vibrate inside your body. For a moment I can’t move. I just stare in complete fascination. Selfishly, when I begin taking photos I’m thankful that there are not hundreds of tourists competing for the same memory that I’m trying to capture. A few view points along the path I can see the Zambia side of the Falls…. limited view and hundreds of tourists crammed in trying to take photographs. Fools. Their intimidation and ignorance of Zimbabwe has allowed me to have a more personalized experience. One I will cherish for the rest of my life.
On a more adventurous note, I was so energized by the power of the falls that I decided to white water raft down the Zambezi. THE #1 most challenging rafting destinations in the world. Our group hit about 20 rapids in about four hours. To raft the entire Zambezi takes three days. Our guide said most people drop out on day one. Did our raft capsize? Hell, yeah. I am now an official member of the Zambezi swim team… and proud of it! Nyumi Nyumi (Zambezi River God) was with me and I safely completed the trip. I bought the DVD (a friend of mine from Australia is making a copy and sending it to my house) and the capsizing is caught on film. Am I turning into an adrenaline junking? All I know is I am looking forward to the Nile in Uganda.

Hwange National Park

After leaving Matopos National Park, we headed to Zimbabwe’s premier game park, Hwange National. A few Kilometers before we approach the park gate we begin to see giraffe, kudu and baboons. We also spot signs that elephant have been down the same road. Remember… I’m a pooh expert now. As we pass through the gate, I’m reminded that Zimbabwe is not the country it use to be. The government does not, cannot support the National Parks. Tourist who once use to come from all over the world to view the spectacular wildlife and nature of Zimbabwe have chosen to go elsewhere for many reasons… unstable economy, lack of resources, political instability, etc. I have been safely tucked under the wing of Antelope Park. It’s privately owned and very well managed. Hwange, not so much. Just through the entrance gate are a series of guest cottages. They are surrounded by a large, empty parking lot. The cottages are run-down and vacant. The scene reminds me of a ghost town. Scattered throughout all of the cottages and the parking lot are troops of baboons. Enter a scene from “Planet of the Apes”. As we drive around the park we pass a few dried water holes. I start to worry. Nathan, our guide explains that there is a fundraising project underway to pump water into all of the pans. This use to be done by the government, now it is being done be private citizens and non-profit groups. At the end of our safari we park next to a large, filled water hole. There are two male elephants competing for territory. Then, just as the sun begins to set, a large herd of elephants appear from the forest behind the bush and make their way to the pan. It has to be one of the most beautiful images I have ever seen.

Hwange National Park

Face to Face with the White Rhino

I’m back from a week long road trip with our final destination being one of the seven natural wonders of the world, Victoria Falls. Between the park, which is based in Gweru, and Vic Falls which borders Zambia, Botswana and Namibia further west, we had planned overnight stays at two National Parks. The first, Matopas specializes in protecting the endangered black and especially white rhino.

Several years ago I remember attending an event at the Baltimore Zoo. It was a fundraiser not only for the zoo, but for the white rhino. It was at this event that I learned how poaching had put the white rhino on the endangered species list. They were being hunted and poached for their horns. Some cultures believe they contain healing ingredients. White rhinos are much larger than black rhino so this is the species that was seeing the greatest decline.

My new friends at Matopas National mean business when it comes to wildlife conservation. They don’t mess around. They make it very clear what can happen if you are caught pouching. Upon entering the park there is a large sign that reads “If you are caught or suspected of pouching, you may be shot”. Yeahoooo! I like these guys! I can hear my friends at Passport Health in Sacramento cheering with me as they read this!

Our guide Andy loved his rhino. He was not only owner of Black Rhino Tours; he was a member of the anti-pouching team. Andy reminded me a bit of Steve Erwin, The Crocodile Hunter. He was passionate about wildlife and would rather be nowhere else than in the bush. Thanks to Andy, I am a pooh specialist. I can now tell you the difference between white rhino and black rhino pooh. I can also tell the difference between rhino and elephant pooh. I can also point out giraffe pooh and tell you if it came from a male or a female. Are you impressed yet?

Andy had us pile into his safari truck. He sat in the passenger seat while his business partner drove. Not long after we passed through the main entrance, the truck came to a stop. We all looked around with wide eyes. Nothing. Andy got out of the truck, crouched low to the ground and examined the tracks he had spotted. Slowly he stood up and looked to the right. Our eyes followed. Nothing. He got back in the truck and motioned for the driver to go off to the right. Slowly we crept along. Once again, Andy jumps out and performs his same moves. Our eyes are glued to his every move. He then says, “Everyone out of the truck”. WHAT?? Andy has found some fresh tracks. The truck cannot make it through the trees to where the tracks lead so he wants us to follow them on foot. Andy reviews some safety precautions with the last one being “as long as you can out run the person next to you, you’ll be fine”. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry considering most of the people I’m with are half my age.

One by one we follow Andy in a line. After about a five minute walk, we spot them. Three male, white rhino. My heart is racing with excitement. Slowly, Andy leads us closer and closer. And then it hits me. I am standing 25 feet away from an animal that I not only attended a fundraiser for, but at one time was known to have less than 100 inheritance on this entire planet. The white rhino has been upgraded from “endangered species” to “near threaten”. They are magnificent.

Feeding the Big Boys

Meet a few of the Studs of the Breeding Program: Arthur, Casper and Mufasa. Believe it or not, they are real sweet hearts; however, I wouldn't come between them and their meat.

Meet the Three Ss

May I formally introduce you to Sango, Swahili and Sahara, or as they are also affectionately called, “The Ss”. This motley crew just celebrated their nine month birthday. They are the youngest cubs at the park, but hopefully not for long. Rumor has it that Lulu is knocked-up and expecting to give birth any day now.

It’s amazing how they have changed in just the few weeks that I’ve been walking with them. My first walk with the cubs was mass chaos. They practiced selective listening and where on their own agenda. Actually, it was the day of the run-off election and the lion handlers had off. They were not present for the walk and the cubs took advantage of their absence. It was sort of like how an elementary class behaves when they have a substitute teacher.

I went on a five hour walk with them yesterday and they were so well behaved. They were full of energy and very playful. Just think, one day little Sango will be the King of Beasts.

Hope you enjoy the photos.

Hard Lessons Learned in the Bush

I’ve had the fortunate opportunity to have spent the past week at ALERT’s phase II lion release site. The research facility, Dollar Block, is located just outside of Bulawayo. It is a 22,000 acre game reserve stocked full of wildlife. You couldn’t drive anywhere without seeing an animal of some sort.

Unfortunately, it is a controlled hunting camp. ALERT rents the research facility cottages and the several hundred acres (I need to confirm the exact amount) needed for the lions from them. Lions are not hunted at the camp and the land ALERT rents from Dollar Block for the lions that are in phase II of the breeding program has a boundary fence.

I was in a bit of a hurry when I left for the research facility. I didn’t have time to check e-mails or inform anyone back home that I was going to be unreachable for a week. You see, “in the bush” we have no internet or phones. We only had electricity about 60% of the time. Unlike Antelope Park, there were no back-up generators. On my first night, the electricity cut off shortly after dark, so we had a candle light dinner. I also had a candle light bath. You can always count on hot water. The water was heated by a wood fire and Intiny, the gardener and over all handyman made sure that the boiler fire kept going in the evening.

There are six lionesses in the phase II pride. Research is conducted three times a day; 5:30 – 7:30am, 12:00 – 1:30pm and 5:00 – 7:00pm. We look for the location of each lioness, their movement during the research period, social and aggression behaviors, stalking and/or hunting encounters and we identify the prey witnessed on each outing. The lionesses had been doing very well hunting for themselves; however, there had not been a sign of a kill in a few weeks.

On the morning of July 13, the full pride of lionesses were found anxiously pacing. They were obsessively focused on something just beyond the outside of the fence. Suddenly, Ashanti began scratching at the fence. Ticha, the lion handler who was part of the research team, stood on top of the truck enclosure to see what was causing such unrest with the pride. Using the night-vision spot light he identified the culprit. Stuck in the buffalo fence located about three meters from the enclosure was an injured, adult female impala. They seemed to be very determined to reach the injured impala. After watching for several minutes, the decision was made to drive out of the enclosure to check on the status of the impala. We park the truck approximately 50 meters from the impala and the pacing pride. When we get within 10 meters of the impala she forces herself up and begins to stager about before running a good distance forward. It’s at this time the group gathers to make a plan. We decided to radio Roy, the operations manager, to survey the situation. After capturing the impala with a wool blanket and looking at her injuries at a close range, Roy diagnosed the impala with a severely broken leg and major wire cuts in and around the mouth. She would not survive and it was best to put her out of pain. At this time Roy shot her in the head. He took her away in his truck to be cleaned and given to the staff. As for the lions, still no kill. As for me, a hard lesson learned in the bush.

Later that night we’re gathering around the table and I say, “Something smells good… what’s for dinner?” The cook smiles, “Impala”.