13:48, Wednesday, 20 July, 2011

In the morning Bilal left to take his research elsewhere. Our dinner last night lacked the thought-provoking questions he always posed, stirring the pot with suggestions that maybe research subjects shouldn’t be named, or maybe hunting should be legalized in the reserve, etc. etc. It made for some interesting conversation; he held his ground with reasonable arguments even when the rest of us disagreed, only to come out at the end and say that the position he was arguing wasn’t necessarily his.

The hyenas were playful yesterday; even some of the adults romped around with the cubs. I always love to see that. Loki, one of the adult females that is dark and has abnormally long ears, reacted very strongly when Brian began to demonstrate some critical behaviors for Eli and Benson, backing away from the car and staring for abnormally long periods of time. It’s crazy how much human influence affects the psyche of these animals. The adults in Serena never seemed to feel in the least bit threatened by our movements. Loki might even be the new clan alpha. There is a situation similar to that of Happy Zebra in Talek West Territory; the alpha female Murphy was killed by lions, along with the male Fozzy who followed her everywhere. It is currently unclear who is on top; the popular belief was Dionysus, but she was aggressed upon while we watched her carrying food around, and the mystery remains unsolved.

My project is consisting more and more of cheetahs; we saw yet another! This one was a lone male, and it was making an “ow, ow ow” sound somewhat like a squeaky toy, barely opening his mouth each time. I wonder what he was communicating, and am more and more convinced that I want my research one day to center around communication.

Back at camp, young Joseph gave me the first taste of the zucchini bread he was making for the breakfast bucket that we take on obs in the morning. It was absolutely delicious. Suddenly the vervets started screeching like mad. I didn’t recognize the racket as vervets, but Old Joseph knew right away what it was. “There is a leopard or dog nearby, and they are alarm calling” is what he told me. We peered through the branches, and sure enough there was a Maasai dog on the other side of the river. I think the locals already know about the animals here what foreign zoologists take years to discover.

I took my book to one of the flat gray rocks above the river after lunchtime. The scenery there is wildly picturesque, a painter’s dream. On my way back up, I came upon a beautiful little lizard, clear whitish brown with dashes of orange and purple. I couldn’t figure out why on earth she wasn’t running when I was so close, until I saw a white lump squeeze out of her backside into the hole where she stood. She was laying eggs! How exciting; I got to watch a lizard lay eggs! As I stood transfixed, thrilled but pitying her surely pained condition (I have no idea where she put all of those eggs), a group of cows began stumbling over the stones and sand bank islands from the opposite side of the river. They nonchalantly headed right towards me. My immediate thought was to protect the lizard from being trampled. I stood awkwardly between the first cow coming up the bank and the lizard; she stopped and stared at me for a minute or so while a calf tried to nurse on hoof, flipping her tail and clearly confused as to why I wasn’t moving. I had to laugh at the look on her face: “Why isn’t this one moving? What in the heck? Oh, oh well. I’ll go around.” And she back stepped to clamor awkwardly through some bushes beside us. Soon the Maasai herder came along behind me, and I felt foolish standing blankly between his cattle and the lizard he probably had no idea of, blocking their way. I eagerly pointed and explained that a lizard was laying eggs; I think he understood, but just looked at me thoroughly unenthralled, probably wondering how these fisi camper wazungu could be so strange. Realizing it was time to relinquish my position, I waved goodbye and began to walk back towards camp, secretly chuckling but still worried about the lizard laying her eggs in such a poorly placed hole.

More wonderful wildlife in camp, always teeming! Lia and I swept up the contents of a bucket, spilled by the vervets that raided the outside of the kitchen tent, drinking from the dishwater and walking across the clotheslines. Some impala passed by my hidden desk unawares; I swear it is the best place in the world to sit and work, not to mention that I am often serenaded by Eli’s banjo in the tent nextdoor. And, although not technically wildlife, several cattle very inconveniently blocked the path to the choo just as I was planning on using it.

Researchers of unpopular animals unite! We met some vulture researchers on the road to Prozac. The PhD student from Princeton named Korin reminded me a ridiculous amount of our very own Megan Climans, so of course I immediately liked her. She has been going from kill to kill observing vultures, and said that some had actually begun feeding on a dying wildebeest while still barely alive. Weird! I had no idea they would do that. Korin has also been doing novel object testing with vultures. I would love to know how they react to strange objects!

And on the return trip to camp, wait for it, wait for it, WE SAW A SERVAL!!!!!!!! It didn’t even run away after we spooked it with the car, just moved over and sat curled up and alert by the road, huge ears flipping back and forth. It was unbelievable: a SERVAL! How finely molded, the perfect mix of beautiful and adorable, black spots turning into stripes as they hit the shoulders and flowed up towards the neck. When it stood to go pounce on something across the road, its tail proved to be striped with rings, halfway between being bobbed and normal length. I bet very few people can say that they have watched a serval for a full ten minutes, and I count myself extremely fortunate.

Roberta came to dinner without Kelsey last night; I hope Kelsey is okay. According to Brian, it’s not terribly unusual for Roberta to come alone, but I will still feel better if Kelsey shows up tonight. On the upside, Roberta was much less skittish, and even came to sit near my chair and stare up at me with her rust-red eyes and pointy face, waiting for me to throw something other than the pasta and cheese that she refused to eat.