The Serengeti

Ombeni tells us a pride of lions were in camp last night. I knew I heard a roar!

It’s a 5:15AM wake up call made easier when hot water for each of us to wash in is poured into two basins outside on our "porch". We have time for coffee, tea or hot chocolate in the mess tent before we set off just as the sun is rising.

Ombeni wears a red and blue plaid shawl wrapped around his body, (he’s cold); later in the morning it goes from a shawl to an intricately tied neck wrap. He says it may be a tablecloth soon.

We try to recall the group names for animals we've seen:

Troop of Baboons

Coalition of Cheetahs

Stand of Flamingoes

Tower of Giraffes

Bloat of Hippos

Leap of Leopards

Pride of Lions

Crash of Rhinos

Zeal or Dazzle of Zebras

Business of Mongoose

Our game drive goes from one ooooh to another aaaaah.

First is a bloat of hippos. They’re lined up like submarines docked at a marina nose to shore, tails out.  A baby, one month old, with pink skin stays close to Mama. They secrete a sweat-like substance for skin protection, a natural sunscreen.

Baby Hippo

A cheetah strides confidently, head in the air, and her baby, about 5 months old, follows at a scamper. The white tip of her tail guides him in the grass like a twitching beacon.

Thomson gazelles are scattered across the savannah like nuts on a sundae.

A leopard is dreaming in a tree, her tail dropped down and swinging languidly.

Down the road a bit is her cub stretched out on his own branch. The flat-topped umbrella Acacia trees grow branches at perfect angles and heft to support a lazing leopard.

If someone calls you a leopard in Africa it means you are selfish. A solitary animal, they take their prey up into a tree so they don’t have to share it.

More striped donkeys. Always a favorite.

Ostriches in a field together, yet singular, their feathers like a fan dancer in a burlesque show, fluffed out, dropped down, disguising what’s underneath.

A male cheetah steps up on a rocky mound to survey the area and strikes a pose for us.

A troop of baboons in a tree showing their ugly pink butts.

A topi with ringed stripes stacked on his horns. Found only in the Sirengeti, they have a striking branchlike pattern inside their ears and a definitive hump.

Defassa Waterbuck

Lions lazing in the grass eight heads are just visible.

Not a Lion to Be Seen

We stop for a snack of grilled bread with peanut butter and honey.

The migration moves like a clock from north to east to south to west.

In Tanzania, Arabs have leased a chunk of land that interferes with the migration route. They shoot freely on this land. Private planes fly in and out without passing customs.  The lease was signed for 99 years but was reduced to 25 after people objected. The current president, Jakaya Kikwete, says one thing but does another when it comes to protecting animals. Animals instinctively learn to avoid places where they have been attacked.

There are game reserves in Tanzania where hunting is allowed for 6 months of the year form June to December. Hunting is then closed for 6 months while the animals breed.

Only male animals can be killed.  Hunters must pay to take the horns, pay again for the meat, and again for the skin. The government owns the game reserves. They charge $8000 for use of a land block.  The permit is purchased by a commercial company and then resold to hunters for $500,000. Hunters want to get their money’s worth so they end up shooting anything and everything.

We are back in camp in the heat of day for brunch and then some quiet time. Zebras pass, and giraffes drift into view. Peaceful moments.

Our second game drive starts at 3:30.

A Nubian vulture, (largest vulture in the Serengeti), has a beak that works like shears and can open a carcass with its scissor-like beak. Other birds wait around for him to show up. We watch one vulture sitting at the very top of a tree, surveying. He then lifts silently and gracefully, wings wide.

A baboon sitting in the crotch of a tree arms crossed – human like.

The Mbalageti River, which flows into Lake Victoria, is a popular cooling off spot for elephant mud baths.  A big guy with a partially amputated trunk is enjoying the river spa. Perhaps he wandered outside the Serengeti and was caught in a trap. He’s a lucky survivor.

A hyena joins the pool/mud party soaking by himself under the bridge.

We cross the slatted wooden bridge and watch the planks ripple under the weight of the turning tires.

We come upon an overturned truck. The driver missed the corner and someone is injured and moaning audibly. The truck carried a group of workers from a nearby camp. Our doctor contingent, (4+nurse) jumps from the Land Rover and is immediately on the scene. It’s a broken clavicle. Ombeni’s red and blue plaid wrap becomes a stretcher and the injured man is carried to another truck which will take him to the closest clinic.

A serval cat runs across the road, stops to look at us, and then disappears into the grass.

Elephants and babies.

A tower of giraffes. Their necks are long, but not always quite long enough.

They stretch, but sometimes still need to use their long tongue, (16-18) to get hold of their targeted leaves. At times they approach a shorter tree and bend over to eat from the top down.

Large breeding herds of Cape Buffalo.

Helmeted Guinea Fowl

African Spoonbill

Mama lion is out hunting. The nearby zebras see her and warn each other with a “whut, whut, whut”.

We find her cubs nestled into the top of a grassy hill, the top of their heads visible above the grass line like Disney ears.

We spot two more lionesses from the pride patrolling through the deep grass. Although the cubs await; dinner plans don’t seem urgent to these ladies.

A massive pallid crocodile sunning on rocks near the hippo pool.

Black Backed Jackal

Sometimes you've gotta put the camera down and just look and feel.

We’ve seen so much and stopped so much we have to high tail it back to camp before dark. We go as fast as can be gone on these crenelated washboards called roads. Our dust con-trail plays out behind us.

Park rules say safari vehicles can operate from 6AM to 6PM. They then have a one-hour window (until 7) to be back in camp or they will be fined. Anyone on the road after seven is assumed to be a poacher.

In our tent we call, “shower please” and the camp helpers bring a 5-gallon bucket for each of us. They hoist it up with a pulley above the tent. In a gravity flow system the water runs down through a hose and into a nozzle very much like my garden watering wand. It’s refreshing, and eradicates the dust, but it’s a wee bit disconcerting to have a stranger standing on the other side of the thin tent wall waiting to see if more water is requested. All in all we are grateful.

Tent Interior

On the Porch

At the bonfire Ombeni tells two cultural tales.

In one Tanzanian tribe wives equate being beaten with being loved. If a woman's husband beats her regularly it means he loves her.

If the home is too peaceful the wife may file for divorce.

In another tribe if a woman is widowed she may “marry” a young girl – legally but not sexually. Then she matches her young “wife” up with a man she pays to produce a child for her. This practice contributes to the spread of AIDS.

Both of these traditions are now illegal in Tanzania, but long standing customs are difficult to obliterate.