10:20, Tuesday, 24 July, 2012
Wow! I am
finally caught up on my work and simultaneously have a little computer battery
to spare.
We have had indecisive weather the past week. On the afternoon of July 17th,
I felt uncomfortably hot in shorts and a T-shirt. I rarely become uncomfortably hot in any capacity, and I
certainly hadn’t experienced that feeling in the dry heat of Kenya before. Then, on the 18th, I stayed
in three layers for almost the entire day. Benson gets especially distressed when it’s cold. He wears a wool hat and pulls his hood
up tight over and around it, rubbing his hands together and repeatedly
exclaiming, “Cold!”. Clearly, he
needs to come to Michigan. THEN he
will know cold (given global warming doesn’t shift all of that in the near
future). The 19th
reminded me of autumn at home. It
was a lovely feeling, the earth blanketed in low gray clouds, the air cool just
above discomfort. It even smelled
right, and the trees about my tent tend to drop lots of yellow and brown leaves
on windy days, which it was, so they drifted down as if to convince me that
home is here too.
Moving beyond temperature, the dry season is definitely upon
us. We are half choked with dust
driving down the Mara roads, and vehicles in the distance throw up a fantastic
cloud as though Taz the blue devil is about. My contacts quickly become uncomfortably coated in grit, so
I blink like a swooning flirt throughout obs. But hey – we haven’t been stuck in ages! My rainboots are collecting dust
bunnies under the bed, and I haven’t been down to the river to wash mud off my
sandals in over a month.
Charlie received a big welcome from who we have now
christened Gerald the Elephant (we saw who we think was the culprit next
morning). I had to dodge an
enormous pile of ele poo walking down the path right in front of Charlie’s tent
one of the first mornings after our return; I guess we don’t have to wonder
what Gerald thinks of him! I was
so upset to see that I hadn’t woken up AGAIN to an elephant, with tall tree
bushes half-smashed and branches everywhere announcing that Gerald’s visit had
not been a quiet affair. When I
glared at Charlie, shaking my finger and saying, “You lucky lucky you,” he
assured me he’d gladly trade. “I
thought I was going to die!”
We have been trying to dart a Talek East hyena, since it’s a
good idea to practice on a different clan from that which you study. That way, if it’s a bit shaky and the
hyena has a lasting impression of the vehicle as a monstrous beast, we haven’t
lost the confidence of one of our study subjects. (Behavioral observation of carnivores does not work well if
the subjects are scared of the car.)
Trying to dart Talek East comes with what I view as a sizeable bonus:
half an hour of extra sleep. We
don’t have to leave until six as the territory is that which surrounds
camp. Since Nairobi, I haven’t
been keeping up on my target practice much, so for now Benson is our main
man. He’s become quite the
marksman. On the 16th,
I was in the driving seat as we searched for a hyena. Trekking through a new territory, albeit exciting, was not
easy. There is a topography shift
across Sunrise Lugga, that which nearly constitutes the border between Talek
East and West. Instead of
continuing with traditional grassy plan, the land becomes more bushy and hilly,
with some areas of enormously tall grass.
I felt like someone out of one of Gary Larsen’s The Far Side cartoons as we chased a doubtlessly snickering hyena
through grass that was taller than the roof of the car, expecting at any moment
to fall into a hole and see the hyena dart off with a witty thought bubble
making fun of our human oblivion placed perfectly above its head. Eventually I decided the peril was too
much for the car, and abandoned the adventure for the road in pursuit of
someone less clever.
We finally discovered where all of the hyenas were,
naturally across the lugga in an area of appreciably shorter grass on a
comfortably flat plain. Ten of
them, plus the most beautiful hyena I’ve ever seen – light with striking black
designs including a perfect circled triangle on its left shoulder (since I
first discovered it in a territory we are newly charting, I quickly grabbed
rights to name it José after my brother Joe - Joe was taken long ago in the
master list), were gathered around a big male lion covered in blood,
majestically licking the ribcage of a wildebeest carcass that he and his
comrades had no doubt stolen from the surrounding hunters. A couple of subadult male lions, adult
lionesses, and subadult females were also present. One of the subadult females needed to work on her
stereotypical majestic lion appeal, as a long string of God-knows what organ
hung grotesquely from her mouth as she unsuccessfully attempted to chew. A subadult male wrenched my heart; he
had an enormous bloody hole square in the middle of his forehead, and sat a bit
off to the side blinking in the sunlight, clearly in pain. I can only think an antelope or warthog
horn could have resulted in such a gapingly deep wound. Our old hyena Moon Pie’s broken jaw and
this lion’s suffering remind me that hunting is perilous even for the fierce
predator, whose prey ceaselessly fight to the death to protect their most
prized possession of life.
Needless to say, this was nowhere near an ideal darting
situation, and the story has remained the same since. We just aren’t having any luck! Yesterday was the first time we had the perfect situation –
lone hyena, no lions, middle of a flat plain - but then we discovered that hyenas can either army crawl or
have secret underground bunkers; we watched our target sack out in the grass
before being nowhere to be found when we drove over to the very place we
watched her go down. Another even
more plausible hypothesis is that she had some of J.K. Rowling’s floo powder at
hand.
We picked up Nora the same day we saw the lions and hyenas
in East. Hooray! She has returned
to get a better feel for the Talek clans, made possible by Kay’s now-empty
tent. Therefore, we get Julie AND
Nora, and are therefore one big happy Fisi Family. Poor Joseph, Jackson, and Wilson have to cook mounds!
Was introduced to the Fig Tree cubs the night of the 16th
, against the backdrop of a mounded gently-dark gray and pink-topped
cloud castle; the hyenas in the elusive Fig Tree clan are finally showing their
faces. The first hyena I named as
a research assistant – Jar-Jar of the alien lineage – has grown into a
beautiful little thing! There are
so many others to keep him company now – Pyro, Zurg, Marlin, Moma, Smithsonian,
Mr. Darcy, Karen. Little Karen’s
face is so cute I had to be physically restrained from jumping out of the car
and cuddling her; it’s becoming an increasing worry with each passing day. While we were sitting watching the
cubs, I got a most exciting text from Julie. They had seen Yogurt nursing the two little black cubs at
the den!!! They knew I would be
especially excited, continually mocked for my elaborate plans of “hiding the
car in the bushes with everything but the headlights turned off”...hard to
effectively hide a bajillion-pound cruiser when you must see what’s happening,
but I had to try for something.
Naturally no such plan was in place when Yogurt’s motherly stance was
effortlessly happened upon, but I’m not complaining! The little black cubs finally have names, although we had to
expand the lineage to naturally-occuring gases in general since the only noble
gas left was helium. So now we
have them: welcome to the master list, Hydrogen and Helium.
Speaking of Yogurt, we need a new category of morbidly obese
since the night of the 16th; I have never seen such a butterball
hyena – I don’t even think any of the hyenas at the night of the dead buffalo
feast in the bush could have topped her.
She came loping (God knows how) into the den with the leg of some poor
antelope, big as a hot air balloon with legs poking out below. It was RIDICULOUS, and had us all in
fits of laughter. Good thing Alfredo
stole the leg, or Yogurt might have had a coronary disaster on her paws.
The record-long transcription of the people in camp goes to
me: 11 pages. The clan war
followed by a lion interaction and non-stop hyenas wandering in between honored
me with a title that one can only appreciate after the fact. UGH. It took what seemed like forever to sort through everything
on my chaotic DVR recording. I
earned the title on the 17th, three days after the actual
occurrence. I was rewarded the
same night...I woke up to some strange dream rather than the sound of elephants
around my tent, but who cares how I woke
up; the point is that I was awake!
I beamed away into my pillow at their stomach sounds oscillating through
the canvas as they munched on leaves.
I was hoping to hear them rumble to one another, so happy my heart could
burst, but before I knew it I had fallen asleep to dream about elephants back
home in America. Maybe I’ll have
to fly some home – bet they won’t exceed the weight limit.
It’s not only been elephants; in fact, our camp has been
Grand Central Station lately. A
night following the elephants, I woke up to the thrilling presence of a sawing
leopard directly outside my tent.
Of course it was wonderful and amazing, but my blood went cold at the
thought that maybe I’d attracted it by sleep-talking, and it would know a
cousin to its favorite foods of baboons and vervets lay but a canvas-width
away. But as usual, it moved off
and I was soon off having one of my senseless dreams again. I nearly hit a giraffe pulling out of
the driveway yesterday, a lion roared considerably closer than any before has
come in Talek Camp during dinner last night, an very close elephant trumpet at
dinner the night before. Safari
ant lines weave throughout camp; just when we thought they had gone, Maina was
over working on one of our cars, and started doing a bit of a jig after lying
under it. I am endlessly
fascinated by the guarding lines and ladders they create around the main line,
warriors looking particularly menacing as they rear up on their hind legs. Charlie’s introduction to the bite of a
safari ant came the first day after returning to Nairobi. I guess the wildlife thinks he deserves
no time to get acclimated.
Aso exciting, pair of white-tailed mongooses is hanging
around Fig Tree, which is nice since we don’t get to see them all that often,
and until now I’ve never seen more than one at a time. Spring hare boing by right after we
emerge from Suicide Crossing – I will never forget how big they appeared in the
Natural History Museum after being dwarfed by the savanna out here. Ah! Just realized the time and I have to run; we are giving a
talk to the Talek Schoolchildren (ages 3-16) about hyenas. Since I haven’t posted in so long, I am
going to forego proofreading and ask any readers to forgive undo wordiness and
dragging on (my two main offences), spelling mistakes, etc.
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