Elephants and Such

"I'm not who I was
And I'm singing because
I don't know who I am
But I gotta be me."

Last Friday was everyone's last night together before we separate for ISP. All I want to say is that we played Kings. It was fun. One of our "categories" was "species of antelope". Yeah, we're that cool.

So begins ISP.

I was a bit worried about my transport up to Kaziikini Campsite; I was told to expect a phone call from the brother of an agent of a nearby tourist lodge. Well, it worked out, and didn't cost me anything.

I got there to discover a weekend-log CBNRM rally-the-troops event. (CBNRM = community-based natural resource management. I think I've explained it before, if I haven't used the acronym) The old bar/restaurant at the campsite just reopened. The old bar/restaurant at the campsite burned down, and the new one was just reopened. There was traditional singing, dancing, and speeches. This community is the nicest bunch I've ever met.

Okay, so that day didn't go exactly as planned. It was one of those days when the free ride is followed by a free lunch and then a free game drive. Whoever said there's no such thing as a free lunch never met a Motswana.

The game drive was for the local villagers; I was flattered to be included. It made me see how a CBNRM is supposed to work. It's important to have the community actually care about their natural resources. I made friends with an 8-year-old boy who was seeing lions for the first time. By the time we got back to camp, he was asleep in my lap. If only all people had that reaction when meeting someone completely different from themselves. It's so amazing how malleable and fragile children are.

The next few days I wandered around measuring trees until it got too hot or started raining (or both). Seriously, rain follows me everywhere. Identifying trees is actually a fun, challenging, logic problem. Although, I can identify the camel-thorn acacia by feel. Without even looking. It's the sharp one.

The second night, I was woken up at about 11PM when a couple of elephants decided to get into a fight in the middle of the campsite. It was amazing. Needless to say, the next night the campsite moved me into a chalet, which offers a bit more protection from elephant feet. So for three nights, I got a bed and a pillow and a towel for camping rates (about US$9 a night). Luxury! I ju st have to make sure to keep the door closed because of the leopard.

Gosh, I love this place.

Oh, you know what's cool? An elephant trail--shall we say "elephant groove" (Elephant Groove is the name of one of the campsites at Kaziikini. The other ones are called Acacia Camp and Corbretum Camp. Had I know that before I started working, it would have made identifying trees a lot easier.)--is a cleared patch of grass only as wide as one elephant leg. They walk with feet directly under them. And they don't fall over. Cool.

On the game drive the first night, we saw an elephant. It was just...sorta...mozeying...along...slowly...without a care in the world. (They don't have any non-human predators, which is good, because they already spend 16-18 hours a day eating. No time for hiding.) Elephants must know something people don't. Like how the universe works. (Maybe there really is a disc-shaped planed out there that sits on the back of four turtles that ride on the back of a giant elephant who is traveling through space on his own terms.)

You know where the "an elephant never forgets" stereotype comes from? (from where the stereotype comes? Yaarrrgh) In times of drought, an elephant will go very far to find water. If an elephant has visited a watering hole once in its life, and then gets really thirsty 40 years later, it will walk directly to the same watering hole, no wandering, no exploring, only direct travel. And it'll take its offspring with it so they'll know for next time. This is one of theories explaining why elephants survive so long past child-bearing age, sometimes even into grandparent-hood.

Huh. I bet elephants never wandered lost around the desert for forty years. Doing a case study on a very, very old experiment, I could hypothesize that elephants have a better sense of direction than Jews. (And on a scale from one to hopelessly lost, I max out nearly every time I'm driving a car. In fact, if I didn't have a compass, I would've gotten lost several (more) times this week after walking 200 meters away from the campsite.

Also, ants like to crawl into the water standpipe. That means I must check my water bottle before I drink. Ants can get wet, swim, and then walk away.

Writing lab reports in high school would have been so much more fun if my "sources of error" section could have included: "the farthest plots were not done as thoroughly because I had to be constantly on guard for approaching elephants."

I've realized that around here, elephants cause more habitat change than people. Is it okay if bush encroachment is caused by elephants because they're animals? So are people.

Throughout the trip, a couple of us have been keeping lists of things we miss and things we don't miss. I've found that as time passes, the two lists become more and more similar. I miss stuff, but I'm getting used to this place. And I'm starting to appreciate forgotten annoyances like cold and traffic.

I've noticed that the locals are so much better at tracking animals than we are. On the game drive, everyone else noticed the animals well before I did. A receptionist/safari-guide-in-training, Connie, took me for a walk one evening, and pointed out an elephant that she smelled form a few hundred meters away. Cool.

"We don't have big animals like that in New York."
"So you only have impalas?"

I don't know if I've complained about thorns yet, but one day this week a thorn went THROUGH MY SNEAKER sole into my food. That's Merrell hiking sneakers. Some thorns.

Do you know why traditional thatched huts are round? Because snakes like to hide in corners. 10 of the 70 species of snake in Bots are poisonous. People here are smart.

Oh, and a thatched roof is everything I hoped it would be; that is, not has not as a tin roof.

Kaziikini really knows how CBNRM should work. At first, I was surprised that about a dozen employees were cleaning/maintaining the place for only one guest, but then I appreciated the fact that they were employing people. And making money.

Oh, and I saw elephants outside my chalet one night. I was peeking through the reeds of the wall to watch two elephants munching on the tree behind the chalet, about 5 meters away. I watched them for an hour.

So, being in the bush has nothing to do with people, or infrastructure, or lack thereof; it has to do with elephants. And as long as there are elephants, there will be bush. (Unless, of course, the elephants keep tearing down trees at this rate. Someone should teach them about sustainable management.)

And that's why this blog is called "Elephants and Such">