We spent a few days at a park in Zimbabwe that is breeding lions for release into the wild. We got to spend quite a bit of time with a group of 5 month old cubs as well as a pair of 10 month old males that are being slated for the first release into the wild. Apparently, there has never been a successful release of lions into the wild. The lion rehab folks at African Impact have been working on this for something like 20 years.

Mary’s fun:
I only had to point the stick at them a few times to stop them from charging me. The 5 month old lion cubs were the most playful and rambunctious. They tackled each other at every opportunity and would give us the “naughty” look as if we were injured gazelles. But you rub them on their bellies and they’d calmed down enough so we could open their jaws to check out their teeth and retract the paws to reveal their claws. Of course we didn’t do any of that when they were eating and had a chunk of cow in front of them. Something about instinct overriding discipline. The 10 month adolescent lions were our favorite. They were so big you could stroke their backs while they walked and letting them use your hand as a chew toy was no longer suggested. But they were much calmer so you could sit with them for a long time rubbing their fur and playing with their tail. Their expressions were majestic and their eyes had a keen focus. Just watching them walk was mesmerizing. They still climb trees with comical awkwardness though. One fell out of the tree and leapt right at me, luckily I stepped back fast enough to have him fall at my feet instead of my head. Although the split second curiosity of experiencing a lion pounce on me was tempting. The lion walks were easily one of the highlights of our trip, if only we could’ve taken one home.

Usually, the lions are fed in their cages. But every couple weeks, the cats intended for release into parks are allowed out at night to practice hunting. We got to go along! Under a near full moon, we loaded into the back of an open jeep and followed 4 anxious lions as they were released from their pens into their 3000 acre buffet stocked with wildebeast, various antelope, giraffe, zebra and elephant. Sometimes the lions were ahead, leading us through the brush. Sometimes they slowed and walked surrounding us. After a while wandering in the dark, we saw the reflections of wildebeast and impala eyes ahead. The lions didn’t take long to decide what to do and suddenly we’re moving 60km/hr through brush and trees. Yes, trees. The lions went under them and we drove through them to keep up.
Within seconds of the attack, the dominant lion had snared an infant gazelle and was discussing dining rights with the other three. We spent the next hour and a half watching the ritual feeding as the big cat slowly ground through flesh and bone of her prey – sharing not one bit with the others. Sad and gruesome, yet simply amazing.

On board the truck we carry about a dozen jerry cans of water that we fill at whatever campsite has it available. Some times it comes out of a hose and when we’re lucky there’s a tap. Having a tap doesn’t mean it’s fit for consumption though, even after the chlorine tablets. But that’s what we use to cook and wash with. Some people (us excluded) are brave, or pinching pennies, enough to drink it. Even if you can get over the often yellow-brownish color of the water, there is nothing quite so unappetizing as floatie pieces in water. Even watching a line of ants march in and out of the cans won’t deter me as much as unidentifed chunks. But then we have learned that it’s often best not to look too close at things. Ignorance is best.

I remember the days at home when I would run out a room if I saw anything crawling that didn’t have a social security number. But living and traveling in Africa for six months has changed that a bit. Now a shower is acceptable if there aren’t a couple of 5″ slugs, spiders are okay as long as the cobwebs aren’t in the stream of the water, giant moths are tolerable if they stay on the wall, beetles are left alone as long as i can see them, and I just glaze over the mildew, dirt and rust. Every few minutes I take inventory to make sure they’re all still on the walls, ceiling and fixtures and not sneaking around. The sinks are a whole other issue. I’ve shared taps with beetles, colonies of ants, spiders, furry worms, wasps, grasshoppers, and countless other creepy crawly and flying insects. I don’t even want to get into the details of the bathrooms. Just imagine having to drop your drawers in a neglected, therefore thriving, insectarium. Actually, no don’t do that. Therefore dim lighting is preferred; the less seen the better. But the worst is when the power goes out. Then you want to flee but are too afraid to move and the words ‘they’re more afraid of you than you are of them’ sounds ludicrous.

That’s the unofficial byline for Malawi. The country is stunning with its rolling green mountains strewn with straw huts, kids playing with balls they made with blown up condoms wrapped with plastic bags and twine. Lake Malawi itself is a site; a massive ocean sized body of fresh water plagued with balharzia (a parasite that grows in snails and follows the trail of urine to their human hosts). Its sandy shores were perfect places to pitch our tents and camp a few lazy days away. It’s a very quiet, subdued country where the only hustle and bustle is at the souvenir shacks where they try to sell all kinds of wood carvings including the famous Malawi chairs and tables that they’ve polished with Kiwi Shoe Shine. One day as we were looking out over the water we saw what looked like smoke rising out of the water in the distance but there was no visible fire or island. It turns out that they have colossal fly storms with literally millions of lake flies swarming around blocking out the sky, so dense that it looked black from miles away. We also happened to be there at the beginning of rainy season and half way through got hit by a riotous storm. It was during spiked punch night so while many were wobbling around camp the lightning show was exploding over the water. First the thunder approached us with increasing volume, then we noticed the heightened lightning activity (which was phenomenal to watch). When the galing winds hit us and the first few drops fell we ran to get the tarp over our tent. We tried to warn the drunken crowd but their hearing was impaired. Just as we were about to finish staking in the tarp the downpour (and here I stress DOWN POUR) hit us like a wall enclosing us under Yosemite Falls. The lightning and thunder were on top of and each strike was deafening and not only shook our bones but sounded like the earth and sky had cracked open in unison. The seams in our tent started to leak but there so was nothing more we could do but sleep it out. In the morning everyone was trying to recover from the camp site turned swamp. Walking around meant sloshing in six inches of water and some tents fared better than others. There was a direct correlation between how much punch people drank and how soaked their stuff got.

There’s more to Snake Camp than snakes. There are also crocodiles, a rare narrow snouted alligator, injured endangered owls and hawks. Their newest edition was acquired 9 months ago when the local Maasai killed a striped hyena and found a helpless 4 day old pup. The Maasai didn’t know what to do with it so they gave it to the camp. Striped hyenas aren’t just endangered but they’re almost never seen in the wild because they’re skittish solitary hunters, much more elusive than cheetahs. A simple inquiry and we found ourselves locked into the makeshift space between the snake cages with a gray and silver furball energetically bounding directly at us. She was a pretty sight with all the hair on her back sticking up, wild wide black eyes, black stripes traveling up the legs, and a big gaping mouth full of sharp teeth. You could tell she was being playful and at the same time sense that she was wild. At nine months she was as big as a grown lab and you couldn’t help but wonder when her instinct would overcome her domestication. She was romping on Steve, using him as a chew toy and teeth sharpener. First she had her jaws wrapped around his ankle then caught his forearm with her canines. The more she played the more aggressive she became and you could tell her self restraint was waning. The guide wasn’t able to calm her down so he said it was time to go. In two weeks the hyena would be handed over to a group that would release her back into the wild so we were lucky to catch this rare opportunity.

Just outside Arusha, Tanzania we stayed at a compound called Snake Camp. And you betcha they had snakes. They had an impressive collection of deadly reptiles including pythons, vipers, cobras, and mambas. The owners were kind enough to arrange a feeding frenzy for us. One by one guinea pigs and baby chicks were tossed to their doom. Some of the snakes struck before the furry snacks ever landed on their feet. Others slowly slithered toward their cuddly new friends, tasting them with their forked tongues before lounging at them with lightning fast attacks. One, two, even three bites! No mercy. We all watched with gruesome interest, yelling instructions to the guinea pigs to play dead and a chick to stop pecking the black mamba in the head. It was really neat to see the hoods on the cobras expand before the strikes. Once the critters were paralyzed by venom the snakes opened their hinged jaws and ever so slowly swallowed them whole. We could see the muscles of the python undulating beneath the skin as it wound itself tighter around its gerbil turned marshmallow.

The highlight of our second trip into the Ngorongoro crater was a cheetah sighting. We were wow’d by how close we were able to get to the gorgeous creature. Her spotted skin and supermodel skinniness gave her a sleek stealthiness. We followed her to a patch of grass from which she surveyed the green plain. Then something in the distance caught her attention and she rose with purpose. Her target was a lone gazelle cluelessly fattening itself up. The cheetah quickened her pace, lowered her stance, and never took her gaze off her prey. Whenever the steak paused from grazing to look up the cheetah immediately stopped and ducked under the grass. She was down right sneaky. But it was effective because she was within striking distance and we were all holding our breath in anticipation. Then a stupid LandCruiser got too close to the gazelle and spooked it off. I think I actually saw the dismay in the cheetah as she watched her filet mignon hop off into the distance.
- Mary

We’ve spent the last week back in Nairobi doing a bunch of research for our travels post Africa and getting ready for the next overland truck that will start on Feb. 9 (tomorrow) and take us down to Cape Town, South Africa over the next 2 months. We will cross through Tanzania, Malawi, Zimbabwe, Namibia, Botswana and I forget what else. We’re nervous about meeting our next group and crew but at least we’ve got the camping part down (if our cheap tents from Cairo survive).

After the last 6 weeks on our own we’ve grown accustomed to clean rooms, bathrooms, and sleeping on beds so it’ll be hard to go back to questionable/lacking hygiene. That and we won’t be able to have bacon everyday for breakfast any more. That may be the hardest adjustment of all. *sigh*