Silver Dime
AP has between 20-30 horses and mules on site and every volunteer spends at least one full day with them. I’m excited, but also nervous. I have never been near a horse before, let alone ridden one. Well, that’s not entirely true. I do remember going on a pony ride when I was quite little; you know the type where the ponies are chained to a center pole and you go around in circles? Fun for a kid, but I don’t consider it legitimate horse experience.
Well, I stand up next to a mountain / And I chop it down with the edge of my hand.
-Jimi Hendrix
Sunrise outside our river tent (11 Sept 2011)
We breakfast at 7am so we can get an early start; the staff stifling yawns and trying to keep warm while cooking us something to eat. Talking with the other vols that are joining us on the trip we hear that there was a bush fire last night while Kim and I were out in the release site watching the Ngamo Pride. With the grass so dry here this time of year bush fires can spread quickly. Even fire breaks such as roads don’t always prevent its spread. We’re told that birds will sometimes pick up smoldering seeds in their beaks, not realizing they’re hot, and fly a few yards before dropping them onto unburned grass. A careless cigarette can lead to hundreds of acres being burned, and with so many lions in enclosures with nowhere to escape to it’s of paramount importance to bring the fire under control as fast as possible, and any on-hand volunteers and staff are drafted into fire duty and sent out to battle the blaze.
The good life was so elusive / Handouts, they got me down / I had to regain my self-respect / So I got into camouflage / The girls they love to see you shoot.
-Gang of Four, “I Love a Man in Uniform.”
Penya + Paza
Armed against the morning chill with warm clothes and caffeine we head out, crossing the lawn and giving our morning salutations to the kitchen staff as we hoof our way over to the volunteer lounge. Tom’s waiting for us, and it’s back from whence we came, repeating our “good mornings” again to the kitchen staff as we pass them for a second time on our way to take the P’s out for a morning walk.
Yawns stifle Penya and Paza’s usual eeowws, but they’re happy to be taken out and oblige us with some ridiculously cute moments, even if some of them involve rolling around in elephant poo. The morning light: sublime. The cubs: amazing, as always. The company: perfect. It’s becoming harder and harder to find new ways to describe these walks, but it never feels old or worn to us. Regardless whether we’re walking up the path with them (one eye behind me, watching for Penya’s ankle taps), standing under a tree as we encourage them to climb, or lazily dozing on some boulders – it is beautiful. Chakanaka. Famba ne shumba, chakanaka.
Andrew Conolly, Chairman + Founder of ALERT
When originally booking our trip, Kim and I decided not to go to Vic Falls; instead choosing to spend our third week in Africa at Elephant Plains, in Sabi Sands. But others have, and for the past several days at the 6pm vol meeting we’ve been discussing who wants to go on what trips, and when those trips should happen. Tonight it’s been decided that the Vic Falls trip will happen this coming Monday, the second Monday of the month; and Chris and Sharon, who are currently out on a lunar elephant ride, are going to be sorely disappointed to find that out, as they had booked their outbound flights from Vic Falls on the assumption that the trip would be happening the third week. TIA? Annoyingly so.
Penya up a tree
It’s another glorious morning at Antelope Park as we wake to the roaring of lions and the chatter of birds, have a quick cup of coffee, and start the day off walking with Lewa and Laili. Really, it just doesn’t get any better than this. The two L’s are enjoying the morning as well. They are quite energetic and playful, and even give a bit of a chase to some impala. Way to go, girls!
Next on the agenda is behavior enrichment with Paza and Penya. We are tasked with making toys to engage them in play using only natural materials we find around camp and in the bush. We gather branches, elephant dung, grass, and feathers; while Tom, our lion guide, expertly removes bark from tree branches that is pliable enough to tie our materials together, yet strong enough not to break. Feeling pretty good about our handmade creations, we enter the P’s enclosure only to discover they already have a toy that will be hard to compete with – an impala skull!
Paza (“golden”) + Penya (“to shine”)
Ingonyama performing in the dining hall at Antelope Park
The members of Ingonyama hail from Dete, Zimbabwe, which is near Hwange National Park, and have been friends since childhood, having grown up together in an orphanage. They started out performing at lodges near Hwange and also at Victoria Falls. That was when Zimbabwe still attracted tourists. In recent years, tourism has dropped to negligible numbers due to the political situation, and yet the group perseveres by traveling around the country, performing for tips and selling CDs and t-shirts. They also use their talents and sense of humor to help educate school children about problems in the country such as HIV/AIDS and wildlife conservation, and they work closely with youth camps at Painted Dog Conservation near their hometown.
Ingonyama’s performance for us at AP included brilliant a cappella harmonizing, energetic dancing, and humorous animal mimes. By imitating animal sounds and using movement and facial expressions – doubling and tripling up to create height and girth as needed – they cleverly mimicked lions, giraffes, ostriches, baboons, elephants, and more. It was delightful and impressive, and put a smile on everyone’s face. Check out their giraffe and baboon imitations in this video clip.
As an avid Zumba enthusiast, it was really fun for me to recognize many of their dance steps as moves we do in class. Zumba was created in Latin America, but Latin America has African influences. In fact, my favorite instructors are Afro-Brazilian, so I guess it’s not surprising that I would see familiar dance moves while watching a traditional African dance group in the Zimbabwe midlands. You can see a few of Ingonyama’s Zumba-like moves here. We don’t do all those fancy kicks in class, though!
The finale of the performance was when the group brought up members of the audience and everyone danced together, attempting to follow the dancers moves with the drums beating wildly. I was far enough in the back not to get pulled up against my will, and too shy, despite my addiction to Zumba, to go up on my own even though it was obvious how much fun everyone was having. Rumor has it they might be back, so maybe I’ll get another chance!
Penya + Paza
Reaching over to the nightstand, I wrap my hand around the wristwatch and silence its wake-up call. 5:45am, again. Still tired and sore from yesterday I slowly swing my legs over the bed and repeat the morning ritual. Kettle: check. Heater: check. No snakes: check. Unzip the tent, step out, inhale the morning air, grab my camera, snap a beautiful sunrise, and remind myself… Remind myself… Remind myself… What is it I’m supposed to remind myself? Oh, yes…
I get to walk with lions today!
Sunrise outside our river tent (06 Sept 2011)
It’s difficult to accurately describe what lions sound like when they call each other, as it’s not the classic roar you might think. Rather, it’s more of a “whuh whuh whuuuuuuhhhh” sound that pushes out from the deepest depths of a lion’s diaphragm and with such force that it can be readily heard from five miles away. There is a great example of what it sounds like in this YouTube clip. For those on Facebook, there’s a fantastic clip of The Ngamo Pride’s Milo calling to his lionesses.
Along with the lions roaring to preoccupy our dreams, the night sounds of the bush are alive with a cacophony of insects and amphibians calling out, interrupted occasionally by vervet monkeys dancing across our tent roof as they run from tree to tree. It is a much welcome change from the sirens, cars, rain, and other urban noises we’ve left behind in Seattle.
Paza’s paw
At 2pm we head back over to the volunteer lounge for our first lion induction class, headed by Dan, a former volunteer who spent so much time in the vol trenches that they finally offered him a job. “I was here so much and for so long that I finally said to them, ‘You have to hire me, I have no more money!’” So they did, and Dan now splits his time between England and Zimbabwe – one of several former vols we’ll meet who are now working for the program.
In a room just off the volunteer lounge Dan shows several media clips. The first few are introductions to ALERT and Antelope Park and explain the purpose of the Lion Release Program. The last video is an interview with ALERT’s COO, David Youldon, and its founder, Andrew Conolly. Youldon is another former volunteer from England who found new purpose after spending time with the lions here, and over the years has proven himself to be both indispensable and indefatigable to the program. Charismatic and articulate, he is the perfect foil for Conolly’s vision. Conolly himself is a third generation Zimbabwean, who lost his left arm to one of his lions several years back. Kim has previously written briefly on his background, so there’s no need to delve deeper into it here other than to say that listening to him speak and looking at his eyes it becomes plain he sees the end goal for his vision of reintroducing lions to the wild in Africa, and absolutely nothing is going to stand in his way. His steely eyes, the conviction in his voice, his missing arm, and, oddly enough, the blue-banded tube socks that are pulled up to his knees, presents a formidable character, and I immediately find myself intrigued and wanting to know more about what drives Conolly, both the man and his vision.
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