Throughout the trials and tribulations of the last few weeks, I’ve been savoring the idea of the adventure that starts today. In fact, this weekend is the kernel of the concept that brought me to Africa in the first place. When I started the MBA program, I knew I wanted to finish the commitment with some time in Africa, “on safari.” While I have not had visions of some Rooseveltian entourage, rampaging through the timber and wildlife, building a reservoir of severed trophies; I have had every image of seeing firsthand the beauty of Africa in the wild. This weekend I’m staying at Mfuwe Lodge, the only facility that is actually inside a game park here in Zambia.
www.mfuwelodge.com
A few years ago, Mfuwe built a new, more modern main lodge for the resort. It includes a pool, dining area, a full bar and more. Thankfully, the design also included an open-air concept with vaulted ceilings. Not far from the new building is a large mango tree; apparently the tree is a favorite with a local herd of elephants. Once the lodge was complete, the next spring as the mangos reached their peak of ripeness (according to pachyderm preference), the elephants came looking for their favorite tree – only to find the lodge in the way. Not to worry, the elephants proceeded right through the lobby and out the back to reach the tree and the fruit. The passage continues every year, with the elephants walking right through the lobby:
Unfortunately, this is not the season for Mangos, but any lodge that has such a special relationship with the park is the right place for me. So this afternoon, Patson drove me to the airport for the flight to Mfuwe. South Luangwe Park is not far from Lusaka (a few hundred miles) but the roads are in such calamitous condition that the drive is over 10 hours. So flying is the best option. You can guess my trepidation.
A few years ago, the main local airline “Zambian” went bust. Zambian Airways was run by the former president’s son. So, it’s only natural that the new president’s progeny replace him. Zambezi Air is now the airline of choice, I’m not sure when the next election takes place, so this is our only option. The airplane is familiar; I flew the same model working for United Express in Monterrey. It’s a squirrelly little plane, but safe enough. The flight is delayed, so I’m a bit amused by the young pilot ~ 23? ~ who is busy inside the terminal chatting and trying to look heroic for some of the ladies. That is, until he catches my eye, then he shuffles quickly out to the tarmac for the preflight. I’m not sure what HE looks at, but the plane passes my inspection as I approach for boarding. I stop near the cockpit to look inside and listen for a second. Same stuff I’ve heard a million times, the hint of boredom and clipped responses in the pilots’ voices are the right sign that everything is routine. I take my seat and give the ‘ok’ sign to a few who are traveling with me.
One of the women working in the WBR office is an American ex-pat who has been in Zambia for a few years working with various agencies. This week she has been entertaining some old friends from Chicago. The three women are full of excitement with the trip and obviously spending time with each other. They are not staying at Mfuwe (the food is apparently better elsewhere), but we are all traveling together. One is not the most comfortable with flying, so we sit together and chat about life and Chicago during the flight. The trip is uneventful; some clouds obscure the view below us, which is a shame. The landing reminds me of the young pilot; he could use some more practice.
So we are safe and sound in Luangwe. A driver is waiting for me at the airport, I’m the only one headed to Mfuwe lodge so he throws the bags in and we’re off. The driver is a bit of a rarity, he’s older, I’d guess he’s in his 50’s. He’s very gregarious and I have to laugh as he stops to buy some meet from a vendor standing on the highway. We are heading down a two-lane road when a young man holds up chunks of raw meat. The driver stops, looks back and looks at me – I shrug. So then I watch while he barters for the meat. Each piece is 5-10 lbs, one from the ribs, the other a haunch or some sort. I’m enjoying the sun (the valley we are in is much lower than Lusaka, the temperature is over 80). Once he completes the deal, he throws the meat in the back of the jeep. At this point I’m glad I insisted on moving my bags forward to avoid the inevitable dust that builds up in the back of the vehicle. Now they are not jostling with the fresh kill either. As we drive, I’m asking the driver about his family. He is extremely proud of his many children, grandchildren and more. As an old man he has also reached a level of prominence in his tribe. He wears feathers in his hat to denote his chiefdom.
I get to meet some of his family. We stop by his house to drop off the meat. Two boys come out to the vehicle when we arrive. The older boy is about 13 and seems to be in charge of the other children and takes brisk orders from the “chief.” The other boy is maybe 5. The piece of meet he’s given to take care of is bigger than his head. He runs into the house holding the prize high and yelling to everyone inside. Once that chore is accomplished the older grandson hops in and we take him into town on more of the chief’s business. I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever reach the lodge. But we do. The staff is extremely helpful and polite. There are several British and South African ex-pats running the camp, but everyone I meet seems well-versed in their job and exceptionally friendly (even for Zambia). I’m checked into the Armadillo lodge; a one bedroom chalet that has a back deck overlooking a river tributary.
There are two safaris each day. The first is at 6AM, the other starts at 5PM. Before each, someone comes by the chalet to wake you and make sure you have time to eat before heading out. When I arrive at the main Lodge, they are serving coffee, tea, cookies and cheeses. Perfect! I’m asked to sit with a group of Italians. We will all be in the same vehicle for the night’s safari. Our guide is Lincoln. Lincoln and I chat about where I’m from and how long I’ve been in Africa while the others talk very excitedly – my experience in Italy says this is normal.
Very soon we are on our way. Things seem to be very slow, after 30 minutes the driver takes us by a collection of elephant bones. Apparently this is the best they can offer, no animals seem to be about. I’m curious why we don’t seem to stray too far from the lodge (we’re only a few miles away and the park is enormous), but the drivers are all conversing on the radio, and even with competing lodges as we pass other tourists on the trails. Everyone is doing their best to locate the wildlife.
There is a large pride of lions in the area (18), the Italian tourists are regaling me on how they were able to see the lions feasting on a cape buffalo the night before. I’m calculating the odds of something like that happening two nights in a row – it doesn’t look good. We do see some antelope, mostly the smaller Puku and Mpalas. These are beautiful animals, but I’ve seen many already in Botswana and I’m hoping to see more variety here in Luangwe.
At dusk we stop near the Luangwe river for “sundowners.” A very nice safari tradition. The driver’s assistant breaks out the bar. So here I am in Africa, watching a stunning sunset with a gin & tonic while I listen to the hippos (they are the loudest animals, who’s really going to tell them to shut up?).
As we are finishing the cocktail hour, an elephant comes forward out of the tree-line thirsty for water. She ambles up to the embankment only 100 yards upstream. I watch as she tries to figure out a way down the steep shelf, which I think is impossible for her, but who am I to say “no?” We get into the truck and begin to head back the way we’ve come. I interrupt Lincoln to ask why we aren’t going to see the elephant? He gives me a curious look (I was not yet aware that night safaris are ALL about finding cats), but he agrees and drives over within 20 yards of the elephant. After a few minutes, Lincoln attempts to start the truck, but it just won’t cooperate.
So here we are, stuck in the sand, 20, 15, 10 yards from an elephant more and more anxious about getting down to the water and meandering ever closer to our vehicle. I’m feeling a bit sheepish about asking for the “special” stop, and wondering what’s wrong with our truck. I decide to let the guides deal with the jeep and focus on the elephant, the sound of the hippos and the darkening African sky. It’s stunning. Everyone is quiet, except for the low mumbles of the two guides trying to start the truck. For a few minutes we are alone in Africa.
In the growing darkness I see something darker approaching the vehicle from behind. We ask the guide what it might be. He turns on a large spotlight to find an enormous hippo has climbed the embankment to forage for food. He’s only ten feet from us and the guides are obviously concerned. The hippo is also concerned that after hauling his fat carcass up the slope, we’ve decidedly to spotlight him. Now we’re stuck between two animals, each large enough to turn over the 3-ton Landrover. This is why I’m here and I’m grinning from ear to ear. The hippo gives up and plunges down the embankment. He slips into the water, and if he hadn’t bellowed his annoyance he would have been soundless.
The guides keep messing with the battery so I finally have to interject. We have lights (hence power) but no starter, there must be a short somewhere. But the starter is under the vehicle and a risky place to do repairs with the elephant so close. The big animal finally ambles the other direction for a few yards. The men in the truck get out to push start it. I’m thinking this will be nearly impossible in the sand, but the Land Rover cranks up after being pushed just a foot or two; I’m very impressed. We all jump back in feeling decidedly manish.
From the river we head back into the bush. There’ve been reports of a leopard nearby. We find the animal (Lucy) in a tree. She doesn’t seem too concerned about the vehicle as we close in, but once two others arrive she starts to get a bit restless. We decide to move along. Once we vacate our spot, a jeep from a different lodge pulls up immediately beneath Lucy. I’m at once incredulous that the driver would put his guests so close and thankful that I’m staying with another lodge. Lincoln is actually swearing at the other driver’s stupidity. Never-the-less, Lucy is a beautiful animal, but the night photos are difficult to interpret.
After leaving Lucy, we drive around the park a bit more. We come across a hyena that is on the hunt. The hyena is poised not too far from the road and is considering crossing in front of us. To the right we see a beaver sized animal, perhaps a large marmot. The marmot is moving along a trail into some tall grasses and trees. It is decidedly unhurried, attempting to stay quiet and use the cover of darkness. The hyena finally darts across the road and follows the trail. We are all amused to see the marmot a few moments later making its way back towards us, after reversing its trail in the tall grasses. It moves along back across the road and off into the night on our left. We see the hyena exit the grass and sit down. Perhaps he’s confused, or perhaps he doesn’t like to hunt in public. We move on.
We make our back to the lodge and along the way we come across a few more antelope and a large ferret. Each animal is completely unconcerned by our passing or at times our closer inspection when we stop. But other than Lucy, we don’t find any cats.
After we return, everyone sits down to dinner to discuss the night’s safari. The Italians turn out to be two couples, one with an adult son. Lincoln and I share a conversation for most of the dinner, but in the end we all join a discussion. They seem delighted that I have spent time in Italy and very curious about my efforts there and even more curious about WBR and its success in Africa. I like the bunch, but I’m sorry that they are leaving early in the morning. Lincoln has convinced me to join him on a walking safari in the morning. It didn’t take much convincing…
