‘May I join you?’ I asked politely, with a twinkle in my eye, as I stood before Graham with my breakfast. Graham was sitting huddled on a large block of wood in front of the cold fireplace. With the breakfast bowl on his lap, he looked very peaceful and honest, but gave anything but an elevated impression – but this provoked me to ask the exaggeratedly polite question.
Graham raised his head and began to grin affably. ‘Sure, have a seat,’ he replied, jerking his block of wood a few millimetres to the side as a sign of his agreement. I placed my metal bowl of warm porridge on the edge of the fireplace and dropped down onto an almost flat block of wood.
Out here it was much better than in the noisy, busy dining room. Here I could enjoy the extraordinary, magnificent view while eating and feel the gentle morning sun on my skin. I felt somehow more ‘there’ here. Besides, it was quieter here. Instead of the good, but hyped-up mood of the kids, their shouting, howling and loud music from the small music boxes, out here there was only the ‘sound of nature’ – and a light breeze around my nose. Why hadn’t I thought of it sooner? Probably because I didn’t want to establish myself as a loner right at the beginning. But it wasn’t that easy for me to establish good contact with the others – the age gap was too big, the topics and life priorities too different.
It was different with Graham. Not only was I much closer to him than to the kids in terms of age, but also in the way I thought and the way I consciously perceived and enjoyed the environment. But at that moment, here on Monday morning at the cold fireplace, I didn’t know any of that yet. I enjoyed my scrambled eggs with savoury baked beans, with pleasant warm rays of sunshine and birdsong.
‘Are you here for a while?” I started a conversation after swallowing a big bite of scrambled eggs.
Graham, a nature guide with over fifteen years of experience in the guiding business, had only arrived at Bhejane Camp the week before last and had immediately taken on parts of the trail guide training.
‘I hope’ he replies, with a slightly pained grin.
‘Forever?’
‘We’ll see.’
‘You don’t feel like guiding anymore?’
‘Yeah… it’s like this…’ Graham launched into his answer, as if he had been waiting for just that question:
“Most safari guests aren’t that interested in all the information you give them. It was very exhausting for me and I didn’t like it. So we did a test: we told some groups absolutely everything we knew about the encounters. We really went to town on it, and yet often there wasn’t even a real tip. Then we just deliberately showed the animals to other groups: lion. There!
These groups were just as enthusiastic as the others in the end – but no less so either. So, unfortunately, you can save the information for most guests. But that’s not my style. I like to share my knowledge. I love bringing others closer to nature and I would like to have an impact. Here, with the students, I feel like I do. Here, there are questions. The people here are interested and want more, want to know everything. That’s nice.‘
I understand that. I can imagine that the guiding industry is a really tough place and that in the end it’s all about having as many paying guests as possible.
’So when you break it down, guiding guests is all about entertainment?” I asked, and Graham eagerly nodded with his mouth full.
‘For many guides, that’s great,’ he continued after swallowing. ‘Many also really enjoy this “entertainer role” and that’s wonderful. But not for me. I would like to have an impact and share my knowledge.’ he reiterates.
‘But for many of the guests, the safari itself, the experience of the animals in the wild, will have made an impact. A safari like this is something special and not normal for most people. Sometimes just the encounter is enough,’ I replied, thinking of my own first safari and how impressed I was back then. I was totally “fulfilled” by the impressions alone. My hunger for knowledge, on the other hand, only arose on subsequent tours.
We continued chatting and somehow ended up talking about bees. I learned that Graham had officially registered his own business last week – a ‘bee business’. A few years ago, he had come across a report in which bees were used by farmers to protect their fields from large animals such as elephants.
‘Elephants hate bees,’ Graham explained. “They’re downright afraid of them and even have a sound all their own that warns other elephants in the area of the bees. So I thought, what works for the farmers could be used for the reserves!
Now people are starting to demonise the elephants for it. But this behaviour is perfectly natural and the problem at its core is once again man-made. I thought to myself that if I hang the bees in the trees and protect them, then the ecosystem of the reserves will remain intact – and the call of the elephants’ Graham explained with shining eyes, completely forgetting to continue eating. I, on the other hand, had already devoured my scrambled eggs and baked beans and was now listening attentively to Graham’s stories, a sweetened black tea in my hand.
I learned that he had now distributed twenty bee colonies across a single reserve and was very satisfied with the result. It worked! Bees as ‘bodyguards for the trees’ worked! Graham had spent the last few years refining his idea and overcoming all sorts of difficulties – and all this on the side, alongside his full-time job as a guide. When everything was up and running, he approached the reserve and asked for financial recognition – which was denied him. “I’m employed here as a guide. No more, they had said. But they had diligently advertised my concept and even won a sustainability award through my work. But they didn’t want to give me more money. So I quit, started my own business – and now I’m here.” Graham finished his story and turned to his now cold breakfast.
I was thrilled. Not only did this story prove once again that supposedly bad circumstances often lead to something good and initiate progress. I also saw a lot of potential for my own works here. ‘The little bees, as protectors from the largest land mammals, the elephants. An exciting topic for my art. I have to stick with it,’ I thought excitedly, and I also got a slight glow in my eyes.
Elephants are so-called ‘key stone species’. This means that they shape their environment through their natural behaviour alone, creating new habitats for other species. In the case of the rhino, also a ‘key stone species’, it is waterholes that are created over time by wallowing. Elephants, on the other hand, love to simply knock down whole trees to get to the leaves and tasty roots more easily. But in doing so, they naturally cover large areas of Africa. So a fallen tree here and there doesn't really bother them. On the contrary, it provides a habitat for other species such as birds, insects or scorpions. In a ‘small’ reserve, however, the damage to the trees becomes too massive after a certain time. Certain tree species, such as the Marula, the favourite of elephants, have completely disappeared in some reserves at some point - with an impact on the rest of the ecosystem.
While we were still talking, something suddenly nudged my knee from the side. I jumped and looked into the ‘friendly’ snout of a wild warthog. ‘Yes, they are very tame here, especially this one,’ Tara replied, who had obviously been watching the animals the whole time. “Funny. funny animals‘ I thought, and Graham was also impressed. ’This is something special. This contact with nature. Often the camps are fenced in, for good reason. But then no harmless animals come in. This is how it should be. Living with nature,”said Graham, trying to attract one of the warthogs.
Routine
The focus of this week was on rifle handling, both practical and theoretical. A test was scheduled for Friday, and Graham is doing his best to prepare us in the mornings for the theory and in the afternoons for the practical. But some personal contribution was also necessary and since I am a ‘quick study’, I now covered fifteen to twenty kilometres of distance every day and got to know the beautiful Kuleni Game Reserve very well. There were truly worse places for ‘learning walks’!
My feeling of having arrived was now reinforced by new routines:
I ate my breakfast and lunch outside, away from the kids and usually together with Graham. We often talked about all kinds of topics, both big and small, such as our own ‘importance’ in relation to the universe, anti-poaching and art. We liked each other and were on a very similar wavelength.
Graham was a straight, honest and respectful ‘guy’ who really seemed to be at peace with himself and gave me the impression of being a contented person deep down. He was 32 years old, but looked a good ten years older. ‘Wisdom’ was Graham’s comment on this, with a twinkle in his eye and a broad grin. I rather think that the constant exposure to the elements, especially the sun, and living with and in nature had left its mark, both physically and on his behaviour.
I had discovered one of the tables in the second ‘small’ teaching room for my desk work. With a view over the courtyard to the horizon, it was possible to work here in an epic way and develop great thoughts. But even dull, diligent work, such as creating digital flashcards, became a pleasant task under these circumstances. Above all, I had my peace and quiet here, because, strangely enough, no one else had yet discovered this workplace for themselves. So it was truly ‘my’ desk.
In the evenings, I regularly enjoyed the African sunsets on ‘my’ veranda, in front of ‘my’ desk. ‘African’. This meant that the sun slowly descended towards the horizon like a huge, glowing orange, bathing the entire sky in orange, red, pink and later purple colours. I had seen many “beautiful” sunsets – but these were truly special. So special that no description or photo can do this phenomenon justice.
I only used the shower rooms after 8:00 p.m. Then everyone had finished their personal hygiene and I had the ‘full’ water pressure and a stable water temperature – all to myself. ‘Anticyclical is always the best way’.
Hluhluwe-iMfolozi Game Reserve
‘Aren’t you coming? Don’t you want to get something?’
I was just on my way to the coffee bar to get a delicious cup of Hilltop Camp coffee, which was located in the middle of the state-run iMfolozi Game Reserve, when I saw Chops standing behind the game viewer.
‘No no, I have water here,”he said, smiling politely as always and pointing to his half-empty water bottle on the seat.
Chops was a very calm, friendly young man from Zululand and we got along well.
‘Don’t you like coffee?‘ came out of me spontaneously, but even as I said it, I sensed that this was not the reason why Chops stayed with the car and his water.
‘You know what, I’ll buy you a coffee. Do you want one?’ I asked Chops, beckoning him to come over in a friendly and welcoming manner.
‘Yes, please! Thank you, Kirki.’
Together we entered the extremely clean and elegant-looking reception hall and headed for the restaurant area, while I handed Chops the money for the coffee so that he could order himself a coffee. I still knew very well how it feels not to have any money and I didn’t want him to feel even more needy.
Today was safari day again and at 6:15 a.m. we were picked up by Graham in a minivan, only to switch to an open game viewer after ten minutes. For a good twenty minutes we jolted through the cool morning air again and I was happy. ‘This is going to be a great day!’
Right after the main gate, we encountered a large herd of about fifty buffalo. Young and old, cows and bulls, and, as always, with us, but this time particularly noticeable: the oxpecker. After the buffalo, we came across three bull elephants strolling through the undergrowth, which also heralded a trend for the day: buffalos and elephants were probably the topic of the day and we saw lots of the friendly creatures again and again.
Most of the others, however, were crazy about birds and Graham stopped at every little bird to examine it from the car. As always, I was impressed by the knowledge of the birds, but I hadn’t caught the ‘bird fever’ myself yet. Since it was very exhausting for me to look for some unknown bird at every stop, I dropped out at some point, put my headphones in my ears and just enjoyed the beautiful surroundings with a good soundtrack.
I was in a good mood and let the warm, strong breeze blow around my face as another phenomenal view opened up in front of us. This moment was just perfect.
I looked at my camera and let the large lens move from one hand to the other. By now, I was getting along very well with the camera and lenses. A few weeks ago, it had been quite different. Now, many things happened automatically, without much thought, and the photos were getting better and better – more and more impressive. The latter was not due to my photography skills, though, but to the impressive subjects themselves: elephants, buffalos, lions, rhinos, giraffes, zebras – all in close-up. It was wonderful!
Fever Tea
‘What is this?” I asked Chops, who held out a sprig of fragrant leaves.
‘Fever Tea!’
‘Fever Tea? Where did you get it from? Here in the campsite?!’ I shouted joyfully and smelled the spicy leaves. It was the next day, we were back at Kuleni Camp and I was sitting at my panorama desk again when Cops came to me.
‘Yes,’ Chops replied, ‘not far from here. Come with me and I’ll show you the bush.’
‘A bush for a coffee,’ I thought, grinning, shutting down my laptop and following Chops.
‘Why CHOPS, of all things?’
‘No idea. The others call me that. My name is actually Njabulo.’
‘Seriously? Why don’t they call you Njabulo?’
‘It’s probably too long for them,’ replies Njabulo, as always, smiling kindly.
The ‘fever tea’ bush was a ‘miracle’ bush that Graham had told me about and that I had been hoping to find for days! A brew of the leaves is said to be an effective repellent against ticks and mosquitoes, but it was also beneficial as a tea or for inhaling when you have a cold.
‘The best thing, though, is that it not only helps against the beasts, but it is also not perceived as “foreign” by the other animals. This is often the case with chemical repellents, which tell wild animals kilometres away that a sprayed person is about to pass by,’ Graham had explained to me when we had discovered the bush in iMfolozi Park. This was great and I really wanted to try it.
It was evening and the inside of my feet suddenly started to itch badly. ‘Not really,’ I thought, and had to force myself not to scratch. I had just spent the last fifteen minutes in the dark on the porch of my hut with my head torch, plucking the leaves from the freshly collected fever tea branches. I wanted to use them to make a brew to protect me against ticks and mosquitoes. The spicy scent of the leaves had surrounded me, protecting my upper body from bites – but obviously not my feet. ‘It’s ironic. I’m being bitten all over while plucking the leaves that are supposed to protect me from bites,’ I thought, annoyed.
Really good coffee
When I entered Delishh at around 8:15 on Saturday morning, Lisa, the manager, was sitting on the floor writing today’s specials on a blackboard. As is usually the case at this time, the restaurant was completely empty, and I was about to go through to the terrace, to my usual spot, when I was approached by an older woman.
‘What can I get for you?’
I had never seen her before, but from the question and her very confident manner, I suspected that she was in charge here.
‘A cappuccino, please,’
‘Where are you from?’ the woman asked after she had called my order over to the counter.
‘Germany.’
‘Ah, enjoying the summer, yes?’
‘Hum… but it’s winter here, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, but it’s summer in Germany, with similar temperatures to here.’
‘That’s right,’ I said with a grin. The woman seemed to know her stuff.
‘You don’t want to be here during our summer,’ the woman continued, laughing – somehow almost ‘threateningly’.
‘Are you currently in Kuleni?’
‘Yes exactly. At Bhjane’s’
‘Ah, do you work there?’
‘No’, I reply, a little embarrassed. ‘I’m a student there’. But obviously I didn’t look like one.
‘Oh, then you live in one of those small wooden huts?’
‘Yes exactly’
‘Do you have air conditioning?’
‘No, it’s all very basic there’
‘Then you should move in the summer’ the woman replied again, with that nasty laugh.
I was starting to get a little scared of the summer in KwaZulu-Land. I had already heard from a few others that the temperatures here can get extreme. ‘More than 40 degrees’, Tom had said. ‘Of course! When WINTER here offers up to 32 degrees, it’s only logical,’ I had thought at the time, perhaps a little naively.
Ntombi also greeted me with a friendly smile and placed the wonderfully fragrant coffee on the table in front of me. We knew each other by now and the weekend walk to Delishh had also become a very important routine for me. Here I stocked up on fresh coffee on Saturday and Sunday mornings, recharging my ‘civilisation battery’ and satisfying my ‘need for independence’ – at least a little.
‘Thank you Ntombi, I can use the coffee, because tomorrow I’m going back into the wilderness for a week’. I was looking forward to it!
