Monday, October 27, 2008

Where the world keeps turning





October 27, 2008
Hermanus, South Africa
photos of Leroo La Tau in daytime and at dusk

I'm the only guest in the Bodhi Khaya farmhouse, the meditation retreat center where wildflowers bloom in abundance, green mountains overlook the garden and a gurgling stream issues forth its welcome sounds. Come from a desert, and you appreciate the lushness of green and the soft pastels that emerge when fog kisses the mountaintops lining the sea. Yes, I'm enjoying my retreat from the heat. (I admit that I had intended to go into total seclusion for several days, but the draw of sushi was too much for me. Here I am in Hermanus, about 30k from the farm, waiting for the sushi doors to open at 6. I'll gobble down the sea's bounty and high-tail it back to my fleece jacket and down comforter. Can you believe it? I've hardly sweated for days, and you should see my still freshly pedicured toes. They're normally sandy and dirty five minutes after I walk out the door in Maun. Here, they are positively glossy. Why, I could eat sushi with them. There's an idea.)

My respite in the farmhouse has given me time to recall and consider wondrous memories of Botswana. And I find myself thinking back to two weeks ago, at Leroo La Tau, when the lions were roaring night after night. I would jump up to try to capture the sound with my tape recorder. Alas, the recorder never does the haunting sound justice. And yet, I remember the calls, to the bone.

It was a full-moon week, and I was fortunate to spend time with Gerald Hinde, a BBC wildlife photographer of the year, and his friend John Henning. They would wait in the hide beside the water hole and have the tripod at the ready for the rise of the full moon. I found myself enchanted by elephants sticking their trunks right at the spot where the water was pumping into the water hole. Their trunks served as gargantuan straws, and they slurped like a crowd at the counter of a malt shop.
Were we ever lucky!
A blood-red moon rose in grandeur over the Makgadikgadi Pans National Park, across the channel where thousands of zebra gathered to muscle their way in for water. Gerald was pleased with the show, as was I. My camera can never record the full-on night shots, but my memory can. And one of those memories will be how on the night of the full moon I woke up around 2 in the morning and rushed out on my balcony to see a primitive shape moving gracefully in the distance in the moonlight. The scene reminded me of the rock paintings at Tsodilo. I couldn't see details, simply a blackened shape. Finally, it registered. The shape was a giraffe, too shy to go all the way to the water hole. It went forward, then backed up. Soon I understood why. Another shape moved off from the water hole and toward the rise of the hill. That shape was an elephant.
The coast was clear. The giraffe loped to the water hole.
All was quiet, but the animals of the night were on the move, graceful as ever, oblivious to the woes of humans, many of us biting our nails and focused on distressing spirals of world markets. Botswana reminds me of what's real-- our connection to the animals, all of nature, and to one another. Nothing artificial about it.

I came across this quote from Annie Dillard that suits my endless fascination with Botswana's wildlife. Even here in this luxurious, lush Western Cape I long for my treasured glimpses of the animals:

"The great hurrah about wild animals is that they exist at all, and the greater hurrah is the actual moment of seeing them. Because they have a nice dignity, and prefer to have nothing to do with me, not even as the simple objects of my vision. They show me by their very wariness what a prize it is simply to open my eyes and behold."

3 comments:

Hiba said...

Hi Maria! I finally had a chance to look at your blog - and I can totally relate to this post! Leroo le Tau was magical - it was actually difficult getting back to the real world after being in the bush. One of our first stops in Namibia was Etosha, which was very different to Botswana, but still wonderful to be able to see animals gathering around the water hole.

enjoy the rest of South Africa!
Hiba & Enrico

Maria in Africa said...

Hiba-
Great to hear from you and know that your sabbatical is still going well! I hope you're liking the camping. I've got your email back in Botswana and will be sure to say hello when I return from South Africa. Thanks for writing --Maria

Kathy Rowlett said...

Hi Maria!
Your pictures and comments made me long for a return trip to Cape Town. I'm so glad you made it down there.
I've loved reading your blog. It's always fun to hear your stories and challenges. I've laughed out loud so many times - thanks for the entertainment throughout the year!
All the best!
Kathy Rowlett

A magical flower

A magical flower
The guide squeezes this flower and it squirts water like a water pistol

Cathy and Joe Wanzala

Cathy and Joe Wanzala
They couldn't wait to paste the Obama sticker on their car

My main man

My main man
Ernest is my trusty cab driver who blasts music as we make our way through Gabs

Ted Thomas, man of intrigue and style

Ted Thomas, man of intrigue and style
My friend, Ted, and his wife, Mary Ann, hosted a Safari Send-Off for me in Austin and treated me to a special mix of African music that already a UB student and a professor want to download.