A Pack of Pachyderms
“They say an elephant never forgets. What they don’t tell you is, you never forget an elephant.” ~ Bill Murray
A friend and I traveled to South Africa on holiday. After a week in Cape Town we flew to Kruger International Airport and rented a car. A very small Toyota. I’ll pass on an obvious travel tip, if you plan to be on your own in Kruger National Park for two and a half weeks, rent a Land Rover or an SUV.
We christened the automobile Little Buddy, and he had the time of his car life. At every mud hole, pot hole, rutted out dirt road, or Texas crossing, we laughed and said, “He’s a rental. Let’s give it a go!”
Little Buddy took us on the adventure of our lives and transported us to observe the Big 5 of Southern Africa. The iconic animals are lions, rhinoceros, African buffalo, leopards, and last but not least, elephants. A ranger told us that the reason they are called the Big 5 is because of the difficulty a hunter has when “bringing them down.”
The thought of magnificent creatures being gunned down was horrifying, but I managed to nod my head as a good stranger in a strange land must sometimes do.
On our last night in the park we decided to take a bush drive with a ranger at 8:00 pm.
The moon was full and golden. No other light pollution hampered the stars and planets glittering in the darkness. We hoped to spot the elusive white lion, Casper. He had been reported hanging around the Satara rest camp. In addition to seeing the famous feline, we had not been able to observe any nocturnal animals because camp gates close at 6:00 p.m. and don’t open until 5:30 a.m. This policy is to protect animals from being run over by careless drivers. On the other hand, I definitely wanted to be locked in and not out for the night.
We got on the bush bus, found our seats, and watched several whiny young children being dragged onboard, a couple of vapers, and four Chatty Cathy’s clutching their cell phones with a death grip. The young women plopped in the row of seats directly in front of us.
They spoke nonstop in a language I didn’t recognize, and stared at photos of themselves on social media. Screens glowed in the darkness. I was confused at their unlimited access to a signal because my cell phone only worked about thirty percent of the time since arriving in Kruger.
A ranger climbed the stairs and took a count, then she asked everyone to listen. The women continued their loud foreign conversations completely oblivious to the fact that our guide and the other passengers waited for them to shut up. At last, one of the group glanced up from her screen and managed to temporarily hush her companions.
The ranger introduced herself, “My name STOP,” she said. “You see something say stop, I stop.”
She asked for volunteers to hold the spot lights. That's a bad sign, as spotters are very important and experience helps to identify glowing eyes in the tall grass. The situation didn’t bode well for a lion sighting or anything else.
STOP mentioned that smoking and vaping were against the rules, and added that being on a cell phone during the ride was “not nice.”
We bumped along the backroads as I focused on the sky. An unusual grid of clouds had moved in and the moon reflected through the checkered heavens. I closed my eyes and took a mental photo, leaving my cell nestled in my pocket.
“Left side watch branches!” STOP advised. My seatmate and I leaned to the right to avoid being attacked by thorns busting through the opening.
The passengers seated in front of us were still talking up a storm. My friend tried, “SHHHH!” several times. English not being their first language, they ignored her.
Suddenly, I became angry, and had to coach myself, I’m in Africa and allowing rude people to color my experience. What the hell is wrong with me? Let go of expectations, be in the present moment.
STOP pulled to the side of the road and backed up the vehicle, “Snake.”
I thought, keep going!
How STOP spotted a bright green snake dangling from the top of a thorn bush in the darkness I don’t know. It turns out this reptile was one of the most venomous snakes in Africa, a male boomslang. And thankfully, it was the only snake I saw for the entire trip.
One of the spotters shouted, “STOP!” Out in the grass was a pair of black backed jackals, a small foxlike creature. STOP belted out a jackal howl that nearly sent me through the roof. It’s an eerie, screechy sound, scary for a big eared mammal that reminded me of Foxy, my Pomeranian. Her howling did manage to silence the nomophobia females for a few moments.
Another nocturnal critter made an appearance, the large spotted- genet which is not large, and looks like an exotic house cat. An Eagle Owl stood his ground in the middle of the road giving the bush bus a stare down with enormous eagle owl eyes. Finally, bored, he showed off his impressive wingspan, and lifted up into the shadowy darkness.
In that moment a wave of gratitude swept over me as I realized what an unusual gift I had been given, driving around Kruger for two and a half weeks watching nature at it’s best, which is animals doing what they do.
For example, we sat in Little Buddy and surveyed a troop of baboons playing on a bridge for over an hour. One couple experienced sexual bliss for seven seconds and then spent a half hour grooming each other. It seemed to me they should have removed the fleas before sex. Good thing I’m not a baboon.
Then, we watched two bull elephants in a shoving match. The biggest bully won the contest after three rounds. And, my personal favorite was two giraffes looping long slender necks around each other and knocking their heads together. I assumed they were courting. A ranger corrected me, “They fight.” Sometimes love and fighting are the same thing.
Oh, and the adorable baby hyena laying close to the road. Another ranger told me, “ If you have choice between being killed by a lion or hyena, choose lion.” Good to know, but difficult to believe the peaceful pup would eventually be capable of ripping me in two.
STOP parked the bus and killed the engine, “Elli birth.” She directed the amateur spotter to focus on a nearby group of elephants encircling a mom and new born calf who had barely just hit the ground. The 200 pound bundle of joy was covered in birthing material, eyes not yet open as the aunties nudged him out of the placenta sack with their feet and trunks.
Moments passed in sacred silence, even the cell phone addicts were speechless at the miracle of new life unfolding before us. The matriarch and infant were protected by the herd as she used her front foot to encourage the baby to stand.
One of the larger cows suddenly began to shake her massive head side to side flapping her ears. She warned the party crashers to leave.
STOP understood Aunt Elli’s message loud and clear, “Turn off spot.”
In the hush she said reverently, “We let them celebrate in peace now.”
The bus slowly and silently ambled off into the iridescent lunar light.
Letting go, and acceptance of what happens in the moment is a remedial lesson I’ve yet to master. I will never forget the magic of that elephant encounter — the new born Elli life, the mother just out of labor, and the community of aunties and cousins gathered close to welcome the newest member of their herd.
I asked my friend, “Who was Casper? Why did I think he was important?”
She replied, “Who cares?”
