I closed my eyes and let the warm, gentle rays of the morning sun warm my face, while Olga cheerfully moderated one icebreaker game after another. On Sunday afternoon, the new participants for the Field Guide, ‘NQF2’ short course had gradually arrived. So, in addition to the three internal staff members already on site, Mak, Sbonelo and Samkelo, there were now three South Africans, Joss, Cameron and Sihle, as well as two Germans, Tina and Jona, and a Frenchwoman, Fanny. And me. Now there were ten of us sitting at one of the large, massive wooden tables in the backyard, and we were supposed to present two truths and a lie about ourselves.
I don’t like games like this. Large groups, beyond five people, are often exhausting for me. In personal protection, I always had the very grateful role of a silent observer – from the background. I didn’t have to, no, I wasn’t allowed to actively participate in social processes. I always enjoyed that very much. There, but not in the thick of it. But here it was different. I had been part of a large group of up to twenty people for five weeks now, and I was training my ‘social muscle’ a lot every day. Especially during games like these. Of course, these games are good and important – and they teach you a lot! But as an introvert, they simply drain a lot of my energy.
When we were done with the games, Olga told us that there would be a initiation ritual on Thursday evening. ‘Nduku.’ There we were to introduce ourselves to the rest of the camp and develop a name for our new group, but first we had to prepare a lot of work in groups.
The two girls formed a group of two, Cameron and Sibole another and Sbonelo, Samkelo and Mak a group of three. I myself found myself in a group of three with the South African Joss and the German Jona.
We were now given the task of choosing a name for our small group in the local Zulu language and making a totem for it. However, we were only allowed to use natural materials from the surrounding area. We were also asked to choose a tree, a bird or a mammal and to present it thoroughly: English name, Zulu name, Afrikaans name, origin and meaning of the names, description and special features.
Now we have to find some similarities between the group members and present these, as well as ourselves, to each other on Thursday evening at the Nduku. There we should also present one of our talents and were given a list of names of people to whom we should add characteristics. Characteristics and impressions from the first moment.
Phew… quite a lot. But the groups were motivated and we all started right away when suddenly the power went out: a utility pole, somewhere on the main road, had caught fire.
Playing with fire
In the afternoon, after a group name had been found and the totem had been made, I was standing in front of the gym talking to Otter while Kyle was lying on the bench in the background doing a few cautious reps. ‘I don’t really want to train properly, then I sweat so much and there’s no water to shower in at the moment,’ he explained when I looked at him a bit strangely. Yes, the power outages were really annoying. When the power went out, not only was there no hot water, but basically there was no water at all. It’s interesting when you think about the ‘big business’ of the day.
Kyle just did enough reps to keep from breaking a sweat, and during breaks we were chatting about trivial stuff when Wynand came running to us excitedly.
‘FIRE! There’s a fire at the reserve fence by the road! I need two people! Otter, Kyle! Come quickly!’
Otter, barefoot and in shorts, immediately ran off, motivated. Kyle was in the middle of a half-hearted training set, also barefoot and in shorts. He and I looked at each other briefly and probably thought the same thing: ‘Why Kyle and Otter? Why not me?’ I was wearing boots and long trousers and obviously had no ‘job’ at the moment. Besides, one could assume that, based on my CV alone, I could well have experience in firefighting. At least I thought I was an ‘excellent’ choice, so I started sprinting and caught up with Otter and Wynand at the tool shed to get a fire swatter there as well.
Together we ran to the road, waited in front of the gate until it was opened by remote control by Christa, who had meanwhile also arrived in her car, and then ran a good fifty metres along the fence until we encountered the flames:
The tall, dry, yellow-grey grass at the side of the road had caught fire! An unwavering, orange wall of fire slowly ate its way towards the reserve fence, already creating a large black area behind it.
Three people from the neighbouring Wild Tomorrow Conversation Centre were already on the scene, trying to stop the fire with fire swats and strong blows. Together, we quickly managed to stop the hungry fireworm and finally stood, breathing heavily, sweating and smelling of acrid smoke, in front of a steaming white carpet.
‘Hey, you students got here fast!” shouted one of the men, greeting us with a strong handshake and a grateful look on his face when he saw Otte’s bare feet. “Oh, I would have gotten in trouble with my instructor earlier,” he shouted, grinning, as he turned around and returned to his white Nissan SUV at the side of the road.
‘That’s right,‘ I thought. ’Driving with bare feet is just negligent. Ten points for commitment, zero points for self-protection. And what was that about Wynand, anyway? His assessment of the situation was also in the low single digits! Why had he completely ignored me? Why hadn’t he asked me for help?’
Long necks and big eyes
The red fireball slowly disappeared behind the grey, hilly horizon, colouring the entire sky a strong orange-purple at the last moment. A thin, silvery crescent of the moon was just lighting up the still young evening when two birds flew across the picture, perfecting the scene for me.
Tuesday started with a briefing. Olga gave us a good overview of the extensive programme ahead and the many tasks to be performed. In my opinion, it was quite a lot, especially for a short time. Not necessarily in terms of quality, but rather in terms of quantity. In the afternoon, the others were given the study books, while I said goodbye to the Umoya group, who were busy with rifle drills again. The Trailsguide programme was not yet complete and the ‘Lion Charge’ was next on the agenda. In the Lion Charge, a lion target on a steel cable is pulled towards the shooter, who then has to fire at it and process it accordingly. ‘LION! STAND STILL’ was a command, with the ‘stand still’ being directed at the imaginary guests and not at the lion. But in the end, I thought it would be ok if the lion felt addressed in this case and stayed put. Then you wouldn’t have to shoot him either.
The drills with Graham were a lot of fun and it was nice to see the others, my old group, again. Especially because they greeted me with a big ‘HELLO KIRK’ and had obviously missed me a little. So I had bonded a little after all! I had just finished my exercise when I was picked up again by my new group for a ‘bird-watching walk’. ‘That’s really a case of trying to have it all,’ I thought, while I quickly took my binoculars out of my backpack and attached them to the device on my backpack. I was ready to go on.
On the way back, I dropped back a little. I liked walking alone in the evening and quietly and attentively experiencing nature. At an open plain with a view of the Lebobo Hills, I sat down on the ground and was so impressed by the sunset that I took loads of sunset photos. It was almost dark by now and a glance at my watch told me that it was almost time for dinner. So I got up, turned around and looked into two dark, curious eyes a few metres away. I had been watched the whole time!
‘Oh, good evening, Mr Giraffe,’ I said loudly, tapping my forehead with my index and middle fingers in greeting, while a broad grin spread across my face.
It was somehow a special situation. I had had encounters with giraffes before, but never on this terrain, here in Kuleni Game Park. I had seen tracks, but the animals themselves had not yet shown themselves during all my walks. But now we just stood there, looking at each other calmly and intently. What made the whole situation even more special for me was that this time it wasn’t me who had forced an encounter, but the giraffe bull himself. He could have just kept walking – I wouldn’t have noticed. But he was curious and decided to watch me.
I was very animated when I returned to camp and ran into Graham. ‘How are you?‘ he asked in the typical South African greeting. ’Great, I just saw a giraffe!‘ I replied. I showed him the photos of the animal and described the situation. “Yes, something like that is always magical,” Graham said with a kind smile. ’When animals come to you voluntarily, it’s always extraordinary! That was a special moment, Kirk!”
A rhinoceros’s trustfulness
Still under the impression of the experience, we sat in the semi-darkness, in the cold white light of the outdoor lamps, at one of the large, massive tables and ate chicken and pasta casserole with salad in silence.
‘What was the experience that particularly impressed you, touched you?‘ I asked, looking up from my plate directly into Graham’s face.
’Um… there were many,” he murmured quietly, starting to think.
“Hm… maybe… yes! There was this one situation with a rhino. We had been walking in a certain area over and over again and had regular contact with a particular group of rhinos. So regular that the animals started to accept us. In the end, we didn’t sneak through the undergrowth anymore to avoid scaring the animals, but did exactly the opposite. We showed very clearly that we were there. Since the animals knew us well by now and we were simply there, we were no longer seen as suspicious or as a threat. This culminated in a female rhino actively seeking contact with us at some point, and we were even able to touch the animal carefully at some point. That in itself was magical.
But then the cow suddenly disappeared. We searched everywhere, but couldn’t find her. Of course, the worst suspicions arise, because the cow had had a large, long horn on its nose.‘
‘Oh no, poachers? Did they catch her?’ I asked sympathetically and with concern.
“We didn’t know. At some point we stopped looking. But at least we hadn’t seen any carcasses either. Then, after a good month, I was walking with guests in the area again, there was a crackling sound in the bushes in front of us and the missing rhino cow simply trotted out of the undergrowth and towards me. My heart leapt for joy, of course, and I was just explaining to my guests that they had nothing to worry about, since this cow was special and very peaceful, when I spotted something small and grey next to the cow.
‘A calf?!’ I asked with my eyes wide open! ‘Oh, but that’s dangerous!’
“Yes, exactly! A calf! The cow had retired for the last month to give birth to a rhino calf – and yes, that IS dangerous. At least that’s what you learn. I instinctively stepped back at that moment and thought ‘FUCK’! After all, I was also responsible for my guests! But the cow not only remained relaxed, but even nudged the little calf, telling it to come forward, towards us.‘
’Wow! As if to say: ‘Look, these are the nice people!’”
‘Yes. It was incredible. The little calf came towards me really slowly, sniffed my leg and then quickly went back to its mother. Of course, my heart was racing, but I was super happy.’
Ikati and Ilanga – The Cat and the Sun
‘The cat’s paw is a symbol of a cat’s curiosity. The round shape symbolises the earth, the whole world. Curious and attentive like the cat, we want to explore the whole world – and leave nothing but our footprint. That’s what the track is about.’
On Thursday evening, I proudly held aloft the dry, brown, tennis ball-sized core of a monkey orange, which we had stuck on a stick and painted with a rust-red cat paw. We had mixed the paint ourselves using the latex sap of a toad tree and the brown-red earth, and I was definitely convinced: our naming concept was great.
It was dark and the fire in the fireplace illuminated the faces of the people with flickering red-orange light – the Nduku ritual was in full swing. After we had introduced our group name, Ikati – the cat, our totem, each other and the Iron Tree, it was time to show my ‘talent’.
I looked around at the group gathered around the fire, and saw that they were looking at me with anticipation. Then I took a deep breath and began to read aloud:
‘Report No. 1: Can’t you think of anything better? – Thailand, the artists’ forge’.
When I looked up again after eight minutes, which felt like an eternity, I had completed my first reading – and in English! I enjoyed it and it was obvious that the audience did too, because they were completely silent during the reading, and now I was met with loud applause. Great! Satisfied, I put my phone in my pocket, bowed slightly, and sat down on the wooden bench next to me, grinning. My first reading, romantic by the fire. If that wasn’t an impressive ‘first time’. I felt comfortable and the whole situation was only topped when the notes with the collected first impressions were read out, which were now to be assigned to one person by the audience.
„cool, humble, busy, creativ, interesting, actor from a movie like Top Gun, Iron Man“
‘That’s KIRK!’ the Umoya group shouted, clapping and laughing loudly, while Chay added, ‘Kirk! You’re missing’
‘I’m here,‘ I replied, sitting a good two metres away, and somehow really touched.
’Yes, but no longer in our group!”
That’s right. I now had my own group: “Ilanga”, Zulu for “sun”. Even the cat “Ikati” couldn’t compete with that.
mindfulness
‘Everyone is so quiet,’ Olga whispered on Friday morning to me, eyes wide open, while we watched the hippos diving in and out of the water in the Wild Tomorrow area ‘Ukuwela’. I looked at Olga and nodded joyfully! Yes, it was positively noticeable! The group was actually much quieter and very attentive. Everyone just sat on the floor and watched the two hippos and various water birds quietly and intently. Beautiful!
When the weekend was ushered in after lunch, the weekly shopping was on the agenda. Unfortunately, Cameron was the only one of the new students who had brought a car, so the six of us squeezed into the small white Chevrolet Sonic, actually a four-seater with a lot of imagination, five-seater – with Jona climbing into the boot. I thought it was semi-good, but I had to go shopping, so I didn’t say anything at first.
All in all, we all got along very well after just one week. However, the nduku ritual had been a real ‘bonder’. Since we all had to present ourselves there, and we had all ‘bare ourselves’ in a certain way, we could now share an experience together and build up the first trust in each other. That had been good!
On our way back from shopping, we stopped at the restaurant Delishh. I had already told the group a lot and especially praised the coffee there. ‘It’s like being on holiday here,’ Tina exclaimed, putting on her sunglasses.
‘Exactly, that’s why I always come here,’ I said with a grin, taking a sip of my strong cappuccino.
We chatted and chatted and everyone was visibly enjoying themselves, so after the first coffee, the first beer and then the second beer followed. When we returned to camp at around 4:30 p.m., with the sun slowly preparing for its evening descent, I went, as usual, to ‘my’ sunset spot in front of the porch and had just put on my headphones when Cameron appeared in front of me with a chair.
I took the headphones off again, started my portable Bluetooth speaker, pressed play and raised a toast to Cameron, while ‘SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMON’ by Pink Floyd slowly built up in the background. The sun, on the other hand, was slowly setting, bathing the evening sky in glowing colours. It was actually like every Friday, but it was the first time that I was able to share my sunset experience!
