22:55, Monday, 8 August, 2011

Happy birthday Alex; I will always miss you.

Our last full day in the Mara dawned on a plethora of our hyenas at Horseshoe Lugga, interacting like mad. It was wonderful to watch the full range of their behavior one last time. I actually saw one’s mouth when it giggled; it almost looked like it came out the sides, with the front still mostly closed. Two others social sniffed a spot on the ground, there were lots of greets and aggressions. And little Zenny came over to the car to say goodbye.

The sun cast pink on the clouds above while first opening its eyes beneath the escarpment; their edges were limned in an achingly beautiful hue. The morning felt perfect. It was chilly as usual, with a slight wind, clouds covering half the sky. The other half was mostly sunny, the change occurring halfway across the dome. I was careful to drink in the sights of the plains and familiar landmarks, most especially the Sleeping Maasai Mountain and the Northern Bump.

Things couldn’t have been more perfect for our last obs session. Aside from the hyenas, I most wanted to see a baby elephant one more time. We did. I thought it would be nice to view the pride of sixteen lions one more time. We found them. On top of that, we saw another serval! It was eating on a wildebeest kill all by itself. The unique splendor of the creature was magnified in the daylight. I noticed how tiny its head was, flowing into its slender striped neck to become a slightly disproportional spotted body and halved tail. Lia was ecstatic; she loves servals most of all. Guinea fowl were appropriately strewn across our path on the ride back to camp. Janie calls them balloons on legs, a description that advances in excellence every time I see them.

It was a strange day. Sentiments on leaving hung subdued in the air, and became an iceberg whose tip I kept trying to push back underwater, unwilling to deal with sorting out what I should be feeling. I realized my first full twinge of sadness while running for the last time towards the mountains, waving at the Maasai, and crossing the river back into the acacia trees surrounding camp. I always regain full appreciation for a place when I know I will be leaving, and see it as though for the first time.

Everyone from Serena arrived around 4:15 so that camp was bustling. Dave brought me the cord I needed, and I printed out the last pictures for the Serena Lion and Cheetah Book, which is officially finished, finally. Janie calls it my baby. It feels good to have something to leave behind.

Brian, Eli, Janie, Lia, and I went out one last time. The cruiser didn’t have much gas left, and it was Brian’s last opportunity to be out on the Mara after being here since December, so we collectively decided to take it easy and just enjoy the ride. I tracked for fun; we found Adonis, Roosevelt, and a few others. When the sun started to set behind the low clouds, we stopped the car and climbed out onto the roof, huddling together in the evening chill until the moon peeked out to cast faint shadows. I might have stayed up there all night, packing every last blade of grass safely into memory.

We hardly fit around the table at dinner, and young Joseph surprised us with a farewell cake. All of the staff- Stephen, Lasinko, Joseph Mzee, Young Joseph, and Jackson- joined us around the table to eat it. Looking around at my friends’ faces- Dave next to Julia next to Joseph Mzee next to Brian on one side, Eli next to Young Joseph next to Stephen and Lasinko on the end, Jackson next to Adrianna next to Lia next to me next to Janie on the other side- I saw a picture of what things are supposed to be. Individuals from two completely different worlds sitting and laughing and joking together, no real differences past culture and tongue. Joseph, Jackson, and Stephen gave us a Maa lesson, and we joked around with different uses of the words, learning the different hand motions for the numbers, including that for number ten which can be employed as a curse. There was a breach in the gap of humor that sometimes exists between different peoples. That night will go down in history as one of those rare times when I understand the world is going to be okay.

Kelsey came to say goodbye. I am going to miss her more than I should. The bushbabies said goodbye a couple nights prior when they held my hand.

And so I packed up as much as possible and settled down one more time in my comfortable little bed to listen to Africa. Right before I fell asleep, a hyena whooped louder and closer than any all summer.