 From my camp deep in the African Wild a sandy plain stretches to the Zambezi
River in the distance. Close by just below an embankment is a pool
covered with water lilies. It is the home of a hippo family, water
turtles, iguanas and a fairly large crocodile. They will be my neighbors
for the next three weeks. A shady tree offers some relief from the
intense midday heat. In the month of October, the hottest month of
the year, temperatures of 40°C are no exception. It hasn't rained
for 6 month and the land is dry. The camp is very basic. It has a
fire place and a toilet which consists of a hole in the ground behind
a superfluous grass matt.
Some of you might have a romantic vision of the African Wild. You
might think that there can be nothing more wonderful than being alone
in raw nature. Camping under a majestic, century old tree in the company
of Impala, Kudu, Eland, Buffalo and Elephant. Listening to the unforgettable
cry of the fish eagle. You might even think that this is Garden of
Eden, the closest thing to Heaven on Earth and if you do, you will
be right.
Granted , you only have animals to talk to and they do not understand
you but then who does. You have to fetch your water in the croc infested
Zambezi River and carry it a long way back to the camp. Whilst you
are away the corn flakes on the table disappear and the cooler box
is broken into. Baboons are very good at helping themselves to your
provisions; they ransack anything that contains food. So do ants and
elephants and vervet monkeys and honey badgers and hyena and mice.
In a momentary lapse of attention I left the car door open and one
of the more enterprising baboons removed one of my cameras. You might
ask what does a baboon, having no interest in photography whatsoever,
want to do with a camera. This is a good question and one which I
am now able to answer. He wants to find out whether the film spool
is edible and whether the lens can be detached from the camera without
instruction manual.
Admittedly then, life here is not easy. Short maybe, but not easy
and never boring. It is a cocktail of freedom and immense peace, the
kind you can only find when close to nature, spiked with adrenaline
flooded moments of excitement. Sip it in the dark of the night and
it turns into one of the most fabulous, addictive drinks of your life.
 “Imagine,
if you will, lying in the dark alone in a little tent, nothing but
a few microns of trembling nylon between you and the chill night air,
listening to a 400 pound bear moving around your campsite. Imagine
its quiet grunts and mysterious snufflings, the clatter of upended
cookware and sounds of moist gnawings, the pad of its feet and the
heaviness of its breath, the singing brush of its haunch along your
tent side. Imagine the hot flood of adrenalin, that unwelcome tingling
in the back of your arms, at the sudden rough bump of its snout against
the foot of your tent, the alarming wild wobble of your frail shell
as it roots through the backpack that ….”
I cannot pretend that this apt description of ones nightlife in nature
stems from my pen, if nothing else, the bear would give me away. Bill
Bryson thought of it in his brave project “Walkabout”.
Nevertheless, substitute the bear with a lion and you get the picture.
Lion are not the only occasional visitors during the night. The hippos
emerge from their pond to graze. Hyenas drop by and swipe off pots
and pans from the camping table and with the worlds most powerful
jaws, bite through anything that could be remotely useful to me. Occasionally,
quite often actually, I am treated to a close up of an elephant through
the mosquito net of my tent. Take it from me Elephants are big when
viewed from the perspective of someone lying an inch off the ground
with nowhere to go. Yet, I never cease to be impressed by the diligence
of these sentinel beings. They don’t ever trip over the tent
ropes or, come to think of it, over me. Feats that I accomplish with
depressing regularity.
There are the sounds of the night too. The fierce trumpeting of angry
elephant, their low frequency rumble with which they communicate over
long distances, the awesome call of the lion, the spine chilling hackling
and laughing of the hyena, the snorts of the hippo which puts any
disco to shame, all this to be enjoyed with cerebral amplification.
 People,
friends in particular, say to me ‘surely you must have a gun’
and my answer is always ‘no, why’. If you ask me, guns
are an overrated appliance, especially here. Try to shoot a mosquito,
for they are your biggest killer, and you will see why. Try stopping
a charging elephant or lion or buffalo. There is nobody around to
tell you, but again you will see why. It’s all very well being
a big hunter and popping off unsuspecting victims. You will probably
succeed in your act even if it comes at you because you are ready
for it. But what, if it comes whilst you are cooking noodles on the
campfire or blowing your nose?
I do though carry a big knife. It is my ace in bush poker. It helps
me to retain a self-assured and probably somewhat preposterous attitude
when facing, say, a lion or two. Beyond that I try not to irritate
any of the big five.
 It
is, by the way, always more or less exciting to come across lions
during strolls through the bush and admittedly there are occasions
when it would feel good to hold something that goes bang. On an early
morning walk I had lingered for a while in a magic spot, waiting for
the sun to throw some gold on to scenery for my camera when suddenly
I became aware of two lionesses, standing side by side a heartbeat
away and focusing on me with piercing yellow eyes. It was instantly
obvious that I had graduated to something palatable during the time
they observed me. I cannot describe the horror I felt, no one could.
Every molecule in my body, and there are many, screamed Flee! Run
as fast as you can! Go! I knew however that running would be futile
and as you can see, I didn’t. Instead I shouldered tripod and
Hasselblad, chose a direction that would increase the distance between
us and tried to copy the way George Bush learnt to walk when he became
President, except that I didn’t wave. It was the hardest and
in some respects the most rewarding thing I ever did in my life.
In general though, providing you take certain precautions like checking
your shoes for scorpions or the bedding for snakes before slipping
into it, you will find it immensely peace full out here and nature
will have countless wonders in store for you.
Werner Reuteler
Creating a sense of awareness and insightful ways to help Africa
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