The Last Supper

During long trips we tend to lose track of time. I have come to the realization that our time here has been defined by memorable animal encounters, rather than days of the week. (Thursday = rhino/giraffe day, Friday = hippo/elephant day, Saturday = lion/leopard day, etc.)

On our fourth day, after a morning drive remarkable for its relative lack of large animal sightings, we realized it was Sunday. Our guides (who regularly joked about calling the animals on their cell phones to ask their location) concluded that they all were at church. On weekdays, particularly in the summer when the vegetation is thick, the water plentiful, and the fauna difficult to see, the animals are often too caught up in board meetings to visit with the tourists.

Kruger is a very large park. With an area larger than the state of Massachusetts, luck plays a large part in sightings, and we were frequently warned that the only animals we could be guaranteed to see were impalas and the ubiquitous iridescent starlings that frequent the camps. During dinner one night, our guides explained how some guests would complain if they failed to see a particular animal during their visits, while other guests were content to simply watch impalas. We like to think we are in the second category, but being spoiled early on may have tempered any overly-intense enthusiasm. To spot the Big 5 during the first few drives was atypical, and we did our best to not brag about it around the other guests.

After the "lion/leopard day" we asked our driver and guide if they could point out some plants and smaller animals along the way. The next three drives were distinguished by chameleons, a vulture as beautiful as any bird I have ever seen, eagles, kingfishers, a small python, two dung beetles hard at work rolling a large ball of the aforementioned up the street, and some alarmingly colorful birds. Our guides also pointed out some interesting
native trees, many of which have special significance in their cultures. Our favorite of these was the Magic Guarri. Erwin, our fantastic guide that day, explained that digging up a piece of the root and carrying it home without
speaking to anyone is helpful in making creditors forget the debt you owe them. "Unless it is a large amount," he laughed. One of the other guides, Patrick, seemed to prefer the Marula Tree, which is not only used for
prayer, but (we were told with large smiles) the fruit can easily be fermented into beer.

Over the final dinner of our trip we continued our cultural discussion, touching on subjects as diverse as cattle, apartheid, definitions of "mother" vs. "aunt" ("My mother's sister is also my mother."), favorite foods (Rufus: pap, Cindy: burritos), Oprah, African jazz, and Jean-Claude Van Damme films. For hours, the six of us (us two and four guides, the other guests had already departed) sat around the table fishing tiny bugs from our glasses, asking questions, telling riddles, and loudly laughing well into the park's quiet hours. There is no doubt that long after the visions of rhinos and elephants fade, the conversation around that table on "chameleon/dinner day" will stick with us.

Note: During our discussions with South Africans of all backgrounds, we have stumbled upon a troubling theme: a more than passing familiarity with third rate American television. We fully expected Oprah, Law and Order, and various soap operas to find there way onto TV sets around the globe, but Judge Judy?! Is this really the image of U.S. jurisprudence we want to project to the rest of the world? Perhaps we should start an annual referendum to decide what programs we want to export. Surely we could all come up with a few better than Ricki Lake.

By Meredith Bragg |  January 22, 2006; 4:03 PM ET  | Category:  South Africa
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