WISDOM: "No one is a stranger, my child; this whole world is your own."
Sri Sarada Devi
SOUL TRAVEL: ON SAFARI IN THE SOUTH LUANGA VALLEY, ZAMBIA
The leopard was crouched close to the ground with his tail flicking slowly back and forth, his every muscle taut and ready to spring into action. We had spent an hour or so crisscrossing the bush searching for game. A small group of impala, a rather common sighting by now, grazed nonchalantly nearby. Suddenly, our tracker spotted the leopard downwind from the impala. They were oblivious to the danger. Excited, but knowing better than to make any noise, we stopped our open jeep, and turned off the lights and the engine. Night was descending quickly. The leopard would wait until it was very dark to make his move. We would wait with him, hoping to be privileged to see one of nature's most dramatic moments.
Earlier, the sky had turned bright orange, cradling the bright red sphere of the sun until it had dropped from view. Acacia trees stood out like black ghosts along the horizon. Each night the Zambian sun had set the sky aglow in the same fashion. Now the stars were appearing. As we patiently waited for the action we hoped would unfold, we laid our heads on the backs of the seats and sought out the constellations. So many stars. No Big Dipper or North Star in these skies. The prominent constellation here is the Southern Cross.
Suddenly, the leopard sprang forward and raced toward the impala. We heard the pounding of hooves as the impala ran, now aware of their nemesis. Launching the jeep into action, we moved slowly in the direction of the impala. The night, however, became quiet, and we found the leopard pacing the bush and scouting for game. He had missed. The hunter and the hunted do not have an easy life here.
Not bothered by the vehicle, the leopard turned, came toward us, and much to our astonishment, circled us within inches of our vehicle. We could have reached out and touched him. The person behind me gasped as I leaned over the side at the same moment the leopard jumped over a small branch. "My God," he said. "Your head was only a foot away from his." The leopard was not interested in us. "He was only using the jeep as camouflage," our ranger informed us.
The night game drive had been fruitful. But it was now time to head back to our lodge and a seven course gourmet meal--maybe around a fire in a kraal, or maybe by the pool, or maybe inside by the fire in the main lodge which was open to the night on one side. There would be more delicious food than you could possibly imagine.
Six weeks on safari! David Anderson, of David Anderson Safaris, had offered photographers half-price safaris in exchange for photos for his soon-to-be published book, "On Safari." Lodges were also being featured in the book and prices had been negotiated that allowed us to stay in top-drawer accommodations. This was the opportunity of a lifetime and I signed up for three safaris in a row--two weeks in Zambia and four weeks in South Africa. I felt like Wendy must have felt when she took Peter Pan's hand and went off to Never Neverland.
Our lodges in Zambia were all on or close to rivers. They were charming and comfortable. Bily camp was a small, rustic, remote camp that accommodated a maximum of nine people and had only solar power. The young cook was a genius. He turned out elegant meals from a kitchen that was nothing more than an open-air hut with a roof of palm fronds, lots of pots and pans hanging helter-skelter from the beams, a few shelves, a sink, and a wood-burning stove.
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It was winter in Zambia, but because it is very close to the equator, the days were very pleasant and we only needed a light wrap for the early morning and evening game drives. The water in the rivers was lower than normal for this time of year, as drought conditions exist throughout much of Africa. A river in Africa means hippos and crocs. Even with the lower water level, there were plenty of these animals around. Hippos come out of the water at night to graze and we frequently ran into them on land during the night game drives.
Very early one morning while it was still dark, I heard something large moving about outside our bungalow and the sound of chewing. I whispered urgently to my roommate. "Are you awake?" "There is a hippo outside our door." And we lay still and listened to his noisy ripping and munching of the grass. Every night the hippos serenaded us with their unique snorting that sounds like something between a belch and the braying of a donkey. Nowhere else would that be a particularly romantic sound, but when you are out in the middle of the African veld, it is akin to a lullaby and reinforces the excitement of the wild kingdom that surrounds you.
My favorite lodge in Zambia was Tafika. We had to cross the river in a canoe and climb up a steep bank in order to get to the lodge on the opposite shore. Porters carried our luggage into the camp. The line of porters with luggage on top of their heads kindled memories of the photos I had seen of the famous African expeditions of Theodore Roosevelt and the hundreds of porters who accompanied him. Tafika is beautifully situated on the river's edge and the lodge is a perfect and poetic fit for its surroundings. The main lodge is open on three sides and the roof is a like a large palapa with a huge tree trunk buttressing the center. Our quarters were all separate bungalows along the river, each with its own private open-air shower.
Our stay at this lodge held a very special treat. The lodge's owner had a microlight and was a licensed pilot. (We call them ultralights here. They are a sort of three-wheeled bicycle with wings.) At sunrise, he offered flights to the guests. The flight was a thrilling experience. I went up twice. Imagine flying over a herd of elephant and cape buffalo, watching hippos and crocs scurry into the river as we flew over them, and flying over an eagle's nest with the eagle standing on the edge of the nest!
Near Tafika was a small village where many of the people lived who worked at Tafika. A highlight of the trip was a visit to the village. We were welcomed with open arms. They danced and sang and demonstrated the preparation of maize, which is a staple of their diet, and invited us to participate. At the school, about 75 children of all ages sang for us. One song was about AIDS. I could not understand the words, but the teacher shook her hips and pointed to her breasts, so all I could imagine was that the song was a rather graphic warning about unprotected sex. Certainly, it was more than our classrooms could have handled, but then our "villages" are not filled with children whose parents have died from AIDS. The glorious voices of those children raised in song brought tears to my eyes.
Our last stop before leaving Zambia was a craft center. This was a larger complex than I had anticipated, much of it outside under trees and on shaded concrete platforms. Many artists were busy painting African folk art designs on textiles, others were dying fabric, hanging the finished fabrics up to dry, and making table cloths, placemats, pillow covers, shoulder bags, and some clothing. They cannot keep up with the orders. I managed to diminish the inventory in the gift shop substantially.
We waved goodbye from our puddle-jumper plane to Lusaka, the capital of Zambia, where we boarded a jet for Johannesburg and I flew on to Cape Town.
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There is so much more to this entire trip that I hope to share with you. I want to write about the South African safaris and my glimpse of South African history and vision. I learned so much. My Museletters will be getting a little more sporadic as I have a huge publishing and writing project on my agenda. This may, in fact, curtail my opportunities this year for as much travel as I would like, but I will keep writing these as much for me as for you to enjoy whenever I have the opportunity and can find the time to do so.
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I WANT TO THANK THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE TAKEN THE TIME TO LET ME KNOW HOW MUCH YOU ARE ENJOYING MY MUSELETTER AND ARE PASSING IT ON TO OTHERS YOU THINK MIGHT ENJOY IT. IT GIVES ME GREAT PLEASURE TO HEAR FROM YOU. YOUR COMMENTS ARE WELCOMED!
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WINGS Vol. III, No 7, November, 2004
