Karate, vultures and botany lessons

 Josh writes:

Ngolwesine 26 August

Delicious strawberry yoghurt and a beautiful sunrise for breakfast and then the purring diesel engine announces that the vehicle is just a minute away. I scramble my stuff together and open the door as they pull up.

We head up “Main Zinaav” to drop the digger and tractor drivers. Sleepy animals leap out of the way of the bouncing vehicle. Up on the open marsh in the north again. Black plastic buried in the road tells me that we are in the section called Bishops. Just a few years ago a monoculture crop grew here, where animals now graze. Pineapples. And a reminder of the miracle of Phinda: cattle, pineapple and sisal farms just 20 years ago, now restored to accommodate precious wildlife.

We pull up to the where the tractors and digger sleeps. The digger has had a rough night. The batter is dead and a hyena has mauled the edge of one of the tyres. They will eat just about anything. The digger eventually gets going and we leave 3 guys behind to continue quarrying sand and dumping on the road to be repaired, a few kilometers away.

Back into Lulu Bush, to Dam Wall to replace the rotten poles. As we approach the dam the fresh morning sunlight catches the yellow bark of the fever trees. It is easy to see why the Zulu called this tree Umkhanyakude. For it really does, “shine from afar”. The Latin name: Acacia Xanthophloea means “Yellow Bark Acacia”. Sounds so pedestrian by comparison.

“Umhlosinga” Seven tells me. Another Zulu name for the tree. He explains that when the Europeans came to South Africa and started getting malaria, they noticed that this tree was always around. And so it made sense that the yellow powder on the bark was probably the cause. Wrong. Fever trees love moist areas, and so do the deadly mosquito that carry the malaria parasite. The trees were vindicated but the name stuck.

The botany lesson continues over lunch and this time the teacher is Inkosinathi. He tells me that the Tamboti tree has a poisonous milky fluid in the bark. If you chop the wood you must look away as you strike it, for if the milk goes in your eyes you will go blind. It’s the wrong time of year, but when the pods are out hyperactive worms inside turn them into jumping beans.

I’m restless and decide to use up the rest of the lunch break to take a little walk. To my left is the Mzinene River, dammed up by the ground I’m walking on. To my right is a forest of fever trees, and reeds rise up from the marsh downstream of the wall. 

Downwind, upstream and below me a male nyala grazes. Just metres away he pretends he doesn’t notice me. A pied kingfisher darts up ahead of me and I catch the end of a splash further up. Perhaps a monitor lizard. The fever tree forest climbs the dam wall in front of me, and soon I’m in their shadows. And then it opens up to the Inkwazi floodplain ahead. The grass is dry and beautiful but animals don’t like to eat beautiful grass, so the floodplain stands dormant, preparing for the party here after the rains.

Lunch is done, the peanut butter and jam sandwiches have settled and we get to work. A small herd of wildebeest have turned up early for the floodplain party and look on as we change a few fence posts.

The days seem to fly by here. And the distances are far. So we load up and head back up to the north. To the marsh. The digger and tractor drivers pile in the back and we head home.

The grass turns from yellow to black. Not poachers this time - it was a controlled burn to warn the bush against encroaching and to rejuvenate the grass. Well, when the rains come.

Ahead, two baby warthog wheelspin in the ashy soil and race after their mother’s upright tail. Then they are next to us, close to us, still running. And then they are done. Either we’ve crossed the finish line or they sensibly realize that we will easily win the race. Who knows.

The day winds up with something that you might least expect in the bush. Or I certainly did. Karate. Ross is the teacher and Kristal, Debora, Lize and I make up the very uncoordinated, super-keen class of students. Jupiter and moon march up from the horizon, together, and stare down at us through the Albizia branches just outside our garden. Soon we are punching and blocking and soaking up all the advice Ross will let us have. “If every part of you is not hurting, you’re probably not doing it properly”. Fixing fences has slipped to second place as my strength and fitness builder for now.

My body is tired and happy and the bed feels softer than usual. The hyena are quiet tonight. Rubber tyre indigestion I suspect.

Ngolwesinhlanu 27 August

The wind is blowing hard today, a shame for Kristal as fewer birds will visit her today. The Cruiser pulls up and parks. Ross opens and closes the door several times. No one is surprised. On Phinda he is known as Magangane or “Joker”. “Sanbonani…Hello….” he calls out. He sounds so friendly and everyone greets him back enthusiatically. But then Ross finishes the sentence “….Mahlalela….you lazy people.”. They laugh. And know that they should have known.

We head up north, to the north west of the reserve this time though. A zebra has kicked the fence in and we need to lungisa. My arm tires quickly today on the hammer and Jimson offers to take over. He is not surprised, because I am left-handed. You don’t see many left-handed Zulu people very often. This is the hand that holds the toilet paper, not the food, and the Zulu folk believe that even if you are left-handed this hand is far weaker than the right.

The area here is popular amongst would-be escapees and we find another section damaged by a warthog. We sew it up with wire too.

A block of rooms, a shed, a jungle gym and veggie patch, all behind a fence. Welcome to Mandatane (or Potgieter’s for the umlungu) staff camp. For three of the guys I work with this is home. The monkeys have helped themselves to most of the cabbage and spinach in the garden. Ripped leaves lie between the beds. They didn’t even tidy up when they left.

We drive on by, checking fences and then swing back south, heading for the fence at Dam Wall again in Lulu Bush. Teenage baboons scamper away from us in Makhasa Community Reserve. The big males look on, not flinching. Nkosinathi greets them and waves. We almost expect them to wave back and when they don’t it is the cause of much laughter.

I love the Zulu humour. Completely without sarcasm, often teasing, always gentle, never malicious. Laughter rings out across the dammed up Mzinene River as we work. Vusi is searching for his hat. It's behind him, in the hood of his jacket. 

We break for lunch. Typical African bush break sounds float up into the clear Zululand sky. Nico is snoring gently under the bush next to me. His slow, steady rumble is pierced by the cry of a fish eagle’s.I drift off in the cool shade.

We’re done replacing the fencing that runs down the down wall and we head for home. Today is rations day and the guys are eager to get back to Izwe to get their supplies.

We pick up a Zulu lady and her child at 1-7 Gate. She struggles to find space amongst all the old poles and rolled up fencing. With a bit of pushing and shoving the fence reluctantly gives up some space on a pole for her. Her son stands up front with the men, Spiderman school bag still on his back.

Vusi quizzes the boy up front. Do you know elephants? Yes, he does. And buffalo? No. “They are a bit like cows, but much bigger. Buffalo also have big horns. Cows have small horns”. I can’t keep up with the rest of the lesson in Zulu as we bounce along the sandy track but the boy looks enthralled by Vusi’s gentle coaching.

Seven or eight white-backed vultures labour to gain height from a tree up ahead. It’s past their lunchtime and the cooling air makes for hard work. The first vultures I’ve seen this week, and it’s good to see they are still around.

Vultures have formidable eyesight and some sangomas peddle the belief that vulture bones and body parts therefore carry tremendous powers of foresight. This has created a market for poachers who kill nyala and other game, poisoning the carcasses for unsuspecting, scavenging vultures. Many other animals of course fall victim to this brutal practice.

The vulture’s head itself is the most powerful, powerful enough to help you dream the lottery numbers if you put it under your pillow. They say. There is no fine print, but no money-back guarantee either and no complaints desk.

Willie the resident Wildebeest welcomes me home. He walks around like he’s the boss and his little herd of impala indulge him. The first week is done. What an amazing week it has been!

Injabulo

Kristal writes:

Ngolwesibili 24 August
Beiden met de computer op schoot schrijven Josh en ik voor onze blog. De wind ruist door de acacia, die als een beschermende koepel over ons huis gebogen staat. Voor hoe lang deze boom hier nog zo zal staan is de vraag. Ross vertelt dat vele onderzoekers denken dat de vlotte sterfte van de acacia’s te danken is aan de olifanten die hun weg vinden door het bos… Echter zo vervolgt hij, vele acacia’s in de omgeving sterven langzaam door gebrek aan water. De bast van onze acacia brokkelt langzaam af en vele torren, kevers en mieren vinden er hun woonplaats.

Een van de zaden van de acacia, boonvormig, cirkelt naar beneden en valt naast onze tafel neer.  Af en toe komt de geur van het vers gebakken rozijnen-kaneel brood ons vanuit de keuken tegemoet. 

De natuur om ons heen is zo rijk en lijkt met iedere dag rijker te worden. Mijn ogen worden meer en meer geopend voor haar schoonheid.
Vanmorgen, Josh net op pad met zijn collega’s, word ik blij verrast door het bezoek van vele dieren aan ons huis. Zebra’s, nyala’s, wildebeest, impala’s en everzwijnen komen voortdurend langs op hun tocht naar voedsel en naar het water dat dichtbij ons huis te vinden is.
De everzwijnen komen in grote getalen; ik vraag mij af of het voeren van gisteren wel zo’n goed idee is geweest. De everzwijnen zijn nou niet de charmantste dieren om constant in onze tuin te hebben. Ik probeer ze dus voorzichtig uit onze tuin te gebieden, plots komt een van hen in volle vaart naar mij toe rennen. Mijn hart gaat als een razende te keer… gelukkig neemt hij een wending en verlaat de tuin. Gelukkig, ik zou die hoektanden liever niet in mijn been hebben!  

Ik vraag Ross of de olifanten ook hun weg vinden langs ons huis. Hij zegt dat zij hier geregeld langs komen, maar voornamelijk in de nacht. Overdag zijn zij hier niet te vinden.

De natuur en cultuur nodigen mij uit tot leren. De taal is uitnodigend; met vele voor mij nu nog onlogische vervoegingen en vele woorden voor hetzelfde voorwerp. Ross en Josh ratelen soms in Zulu en ik pik soms een woord op van wat zij zeggen. Ik schrijf veel; zodra ik de woorden het opgeschreven in mijn rode notitieboekje vergeet ik ze niet meer.


Een vogeldrinkplek zal mij helpen gauw de veelvoorkomende vogels hier te gaan herkennen. Ross, Josh en ik zijn van plan er een van cement te gieten. In Nederland ken ik veel vogels, bomen, struiken en planten bij naam en hier moet ik echt weer bij het begin beginnen en opnieuw leren.

Ik ben op mijn hoede als ik hier rond loop; luister naar ieder geluid. Je zou misschien denken dat het onveilig voelt om zo tussen al het wild te leven, maar zo ervaar ik het helemaal niet. Het is een grote eer om hier met alle dieren samen te leven.
Tijdens het wassen van onze kleren op de veranda bijvoorbeeld, staan de impala’s nog geen tien meter verderop rustig te grazen. Vogels zingen hun hoogste lied. Ik geniet. 

Wat een luxe is het om hier niet als gast te zijn. In het bijzijn van de gasten voel ik me ongemakkelijk; ik weet dat zijn heel veel betaald hebben om hier op vakantie te komen.
De omgang met de staff daarentegen is heel vrij en vanmiddag mogen we weer mee op game drive. Josh kent veel van hen nog van zijn tijd bij de &Beyond Foundation. &Beyond is de organisatie die Phinda runt en de &Beyond Foundation biedt de lokale bewoners hulp.

De leerkrachten op de reguliere scholen in heel Zuid-Afrika staken op het moment, dus Mbeki (werkzaam voor de Foundation) kon ons nog niet zeggen wanneer we de lokale scholen kunnen bezoeken. We zien volgende week of we langs kunnen gaan. Ik krijg er erg veel zin in! De mensen zijn zo vriendelijk en ik kan niet wachten meer over hun cultuur te leren. Josh steekt mij aan door zijn verhalen over het werken met zijn Zulu-collega’s.   

De game drive en vooral het staartje ervan geeft mij een enorm goed gevoel!
Vrijwel meteen als we vanuit ‘the sandforest’ het open veld oprijden zien we twee Chita’s op een heuvel. Zij liggen rug aan rug, ieder met uitzicht over een helft van het terrein. Zo slapen zij terwijl ze de gehele omgeving nauwlettend in de gaten houden.

De ranger, Dumi, vertelt ons tijdens de game drive over de Lala Palm. Deze palmboom heeft zaden die de Zulu’s gebruiken om wijn van te maken. Van deze wijn slaap je heel erg goed; vandaar dat deze palm ‘Lala’ (Slaap) Palm wordt genoemd.
Ik pluk een aantal van de zaden, die mooi in de palm van je hand passen. De zaden zijn heel erg hard en ik vraag me af welke dieren deze zaden kunnen eten. De olifanten kunnen dat. Voor de Lala Palm zijn de olifanten dus van levensbelang voor de verspreiding van de zaden via de ontlasting.

Na het strekken van onze benen bij ondergaande zon, onder het genot van warme chocolademelk met amarula (het typische bush drankje), rijden we in de richting van de hyena den. In eerste instantie lijkt het alsof de hyena’s de den al verlaten hebben om te jagen, maar even later zien we vader, moeder en twee vier maanden oude jongen. Met het rode filter op de lamp, die niet schadelijk is voor de dieren, kunnen we de hyena’s moeiteloos volgen. Moeder voedt haar jongen rustig terwijl we toekijken.

De gasten van de lodge, wij rekenen onszelf tot de staff, krijgen als verrassing een bush dinner. Wij wachten bij het vuur, omringd door vele papieren lampionnen, op de trackers/spoorzoekers die ons mee terug nemen naar de lodge. Josh stelt mij voor aan een oude vriend, de kok, Sam. Sam werkt hier al vanaf 1990, het jaar dat Phinda werd opgericht.  

Ik klim voorin de bakkie naast een van de trackers; we gaan allemaal naar huis. Wat is het leuk om mijn zulu meteen te kunnen gebruiken! We wisselen namen uit en al gauw praatten we over van alles en nog wat, engels en zulu afgewisseld. Zijn naam is Jabulani, dat ‘happy’ betekent. Vanaf de beginjaren van Phinda werkt ook hij in het natuurgebied. Ik word enorm blij om deze mens, ook al is het maar kort, even echt te ontmoeten. Wat een verschil is het om de taal een beetje te spreken. De glinstering in de ogen en de lach is het harde leren zeker waard.

Debora, de vriendin van Ross, schuift ‘s avonds bij ons aan. Ik hoor van Ross dat ook zij zingt. We praten over het koor, bestaande uit zes zulu-vrouwen, waarin zij traditionele zulu-liederen zingt. Ik vraag haar of ik een keer met haar mee kan komen naar de repetitie. Natuurlijk kan dat! Wow, ik kan niet wachten!!

Ngolwesithathu 25 August
Ik zing de dag tegemoet. Josh’ gitaar is lang niet zo goed als mijn gitaar, maar ik begin er aan gewend te raken. Zouden de dieren reageren op mijn spel?
Ik zit onder de acacia in de zon… Ik krijg grip op nieuwe akkoorden. Deze omgeving is inspirerend. De eerste klanken van nieuwe nummers ontstaan.  

‘s Avonds na onze maaltijd, waarbij de oranje maan ‘inyanga’ vanachter de bomen hoger en hoger aan de hemel rijst, krijgen we onze eerste karate les van Ross. Ross’ enthousiasme slaat vrijwel onmiddellijk op ons over. Lager door de knieen, zegt hij, je voeten naar voren en je benen naar buiten gericht. Onze bovenbenen zijn niet gewend aan de training, maar ik geniet van de bewegingen. Ross legt uit dat een van je handen, je korte arm, altijd op je heup moet steunen. Hij heeft het over een plek waar vrouwen van houden.. Ik begrijp niet wat hij bedoeld?! Dan snap ik dat hij het heeft over het botje op je heup: Josh en ik lachen, want natuurlijk weet ik wat hij bedoeld als hij zegt dat vrouwen daarvan houden.
Karate, zo vertelt Ross, is een sport waarbij je al je spieren evenveel leert trainen. Zonder kracht, alleen vanuit de beweging leert het je gebalanceerd te bewegen. Ik word me bewust van spieren die ik niet vaak gebruik. Morgen weer een nieuwe ronde!

Fencing in Lulu Bush

Josh writes

Ngolwesibili 24 August
The poles are finished, so the plan for the day: check broken poles in an area in the south of the reserve. It’s so different to the sand forest here in the north. Both just as beautiful.

The Landcruiser takes us out of the reserve, through 1-7 gate and we turn south on the corrugated gravel road. Five minutes driving, past a few local women cutting grass on the verge, and we’re at the gate leading into Lulu Bush – private land that is part of Phinda. Seven explains from behind the wheel that these women work 2 days a week, Tuesdays and Thursdays, cutting grass on the roadside, paid by the municipality.

The bush here is dense. And grey. But the grass is black. Charred remnants of a poachers fire that swept through the area a few days ago. Bush meat is sold in the community, cheaper than precious beef and chicken. Phinda has been lucky to escape the recent spate of rhino poaching that has wracked most of the reserves in the country though. Inyamazane (antelope) are much less of a loss.

We continue south, next to the double fenceline that helps protect the cows in the community from the deadly Corridor Disease, carried by buffalo. The lazy brown-eared ticks that transport the illness will not cross the 2-metre distance between the two fencelines.

A Burchell’s Coucal flits up from the grass. Silhouetted against the sky a small snake dangles from its razor-sharp beak. Quick decision for the Coucal: foresake the meal for now and escape the blundering Cruiser or hang on? The snake drops in the grass next to the fence - a baby puffadder. Dead.

We drive on, past the Isibhicayi River. When it floods crocs wash downstream, under the fence and into the community. Jimson tells me of when a small boy was taken by a croc a few years ago. Fishing is an extreme sport here. A handful of local women take their chances, but the water level is low.

   

The straw-yellow grass is thirsty, Seven tells me. This section has not been burned by the team yet. The first rains will come soon and it will be safer to burn.

The thicker bush opens up and Inkwazi floodplain lies below us, in all its majesty. Inkwazi ranger trainer camp stands sentry on the ridge, and thick, yellow-dry grass covers the flats below. We walk the fenceline, checking the number of broken fence posts. “Six.” says Seven.

Back in the Cruiser. Back through the gate. Back into the reserve at 1-7 gate. Jimson and I jump out: we’ll walk the elephant fence, checking for sections that are damaged by animals that have run into the fence. Dry branches that touch the wire are fine, but when it rains they bleed off the electricity. So we’ll look for those too. We’ll meet up with Vusi and Nkosinathi who started off in the other direction. My little backpack carries water and skaftini (lunch) for we will not be done by lunch.

The path we walk ducks inside and outside of the double strand elephant fence, as do we, very carefully. Two harmless looking strands of wire: low enough to keep the ellies from entering and destroying the sand forest and enough electricity to stop the heart of an innocently escaping nyala. Later other scavengers will join the flies already feasting on the fresh male nyala carcass, lying where he fell, next to the fence.

The notebook is always ready and the ear is keen, tuned in to pick up any new Zulu words. I write down “dilika” for homework. But then I decide to ask Jimson rather. “Well,” he says, “If we you were up on top of that marula tree over there, I would call out to you, ‘Hey you, dilika, (come down) from the tree.” All in Zulu. And it’s the way he says it. We laugh and I’m glad I asked.

The sun is high in the sky now and it’s lunch. We duck off into the sand forest and find a small hill next to a drainage line (riverbed). Orange and grey. The lichen grows thick on the white of the monkey orange trees around us and a crowned hornbill wings up the drainage line past us, silently.

Jimson explains that we are two of us walking together in case we get in trouble. He says that if a lion takes me he will shout at it and try chase it off. It’s good to know that he’s got my back.

He tells me he has two wives, and that the girl we met at Forest Lodge a minute ago is his daughter, his eldest of 12 kids. He laughs when I ask if his wives live together. Of course not, they will fight. One lives in Mtuba and the other lives in KwaJobe, 150km apart. One week’s leave in Mtuba and one week in KwaJobe. No fighting. Six weeks on Phinda. One week Mtuba. One week KwaJobe. Six weeks on Phinda. So it goes.

The poles have arrived, so we speed off to Izwe to unload them. We speed back the other way to drop everyone at home and a white rhino mom looks just as confused as her baby, with all the rushing around going on.

Back home, back at Umfaan’s Turf and clouds and sunlight paint an ever-changing, always beautiful, background to an already spectacular bush setting. It looks like it may rain. But it won’t, not yet.

Two bats are inside the house, a little lost and very confused. They look like they are trying to sound their way out. Somehow their clicking misses the open 2x1m doorway and we gather them up, one after the other in a bucket, to send them on their way.

The day draws to a close. Fighting or fleeing zebra give away their position close by. Kawoh-kawoh, kawoh-kawoh... A lone hyena picks up the chorus later. The clouds make way for the myriad stars and, below, on our little stoep, a beeswax candle from Holland lights up a delicious spaghetti bolognaise. Just the two of us. And another day, packed with the richness of life in the bush, has passed.

Ngolwesithathu 25 August
Today is pay day and that means half day. The guys will go into Hluhluwe to do their monthly shopping. But first we will work.

A few poles are loaded on the back the Cruiser, they make a good seat for the seven of us guys, also loaded on the back. Seven is driving and a Pretoria Technikon student, Nico, sits next to him. We head for Corridor road, just past Forest Lodge where we were on Monday. I’m the guy who removes the fence staples that connect the fencing to the rotten poles. Mostly. I’m also the guy who digs out the sand that the stamper has loosened. We replace six or seven poles and then load up. The day is done.

But before that Bheki, my ex-colleague from andBEYOND Foundation, stops on his way to the community. I try out the Tonga greeting Jimson taught me yesterday, “Kusile!”. We agree to visit the communities next week, perhaps one of the schools will welcome some part time help from Kristal. I hope so.

Nico is driving and that means I’m given the front seat next to him. I hope I won’t be working with him much, as he definitely presents a bit of a barrier. I can see the Zulu guys assume that I would rather hang with Nico than with them. Not true at all. And leaving me with him means less time to learn Zulu and get to know the Zulu guys in my team.

I’m dropped at home, and the guys all head off, to spend some of their hard-earned wage. Good to sit outside, checking that the vervet monkey’s behave. Kristal serenades the warthog on guitar and practices her Zulu on the monkeys. “It’s our house not yours” she warns them, in perfect Zulu. We are also kept company by a male and female nyala, grazing peacefully just outside our garden. Two lilac-breasted rollers chase off a pied crow, not so peacefully.

Game drive time. Not staff bumble, this is the real deal. Dumi is our guide and we set off with a family from New York. The road goes north and on the right, the other side of the fence, Makhasa Community Game Reserve again. Sand forest gives way to broad-leaf woodland, and then we break out into the open marsh. And two male cheetah. They sleep back-to-back on a termite mound – lion and leopard are an ever-present danger.

We push further north, in search of the elusive black rhino. The cold weather makes them even more elusive. Thembankosi, the tracker, looks for spoor from a seat on the bonnet.

Almost every direction you turn here on the marsh there are animals. Impala. Nyala. Reedbuck. Wildebeest. Warthog. Three white rhino sightings. And many beautiful birds.

Our vehicle wades into a sea of yellow. Heads pop up around us – we have disturbed the nyalas’ dinner: yellow curry bush tonight. It smells delicious but I prefer the biltong and dried mango strips we have at our drink stop.

Two days ago rangers discovered the first hyena den on Phinda. The first ever. We pull up to see the hyenas that have been calling to us each night so far. A pup ventures out from the den to suckle on mom. Dad lies down and looks on lazily.

The moon is shy tonight and almost full. We catch it peeking at us through the trees as darkness falls. Scraggly branches clutch at the sky.

Sparkling lanterns and a roaring fire greet us. Bush dinner for the guests. Not for us though, so we head back to the lodge with the trackers and then home, to let Lize in. A PhD student from Stellenbosch who is staying with us for 2 weeks, doing fieldwork with Ross.

Ross’ girlfriend, Deborah, joins us with Ross and we all enjoy a cold beer out on the stoep before turning in.

Sesfikile!

Josh writes:

So, we are finally here…or not just here but home, which is what I was going to write, as that is what this magic place called Phinda will be for us for the next 3 months. Months of planning. Or dreaming rather. Just how hard can it be to arrange unemployment?? Just amazing to be back here after a year and half. And to be here together!! What a privilege…


Our home is a run down, falling apart old house. There are cracks running down most walls, and the ants have excavated under most of the floor. A huge flat-crown albizia tree towers over the building and gives some shade to our host’s many bonsai trees in the garden. Ross knows more about the bush than anyone else I know, and his passion for Africa and the African people I have also never met before. A rickety fence does a half job of keeping us in and the animals safe.


Saturday afternoon we arrive. Neither of us can believe we are finally here. First Zulu exchanges with the security guard at the gate – a public road runs through the reserve – and my confidence is boosted. A bit.

It’s a spectacular day and we are content with an afternoon bumble up to the lodge in our overloaded Toyota Tazz.

It is so amazing to drive through the reserve and see it all with fresh eyes, with Kristal’s eyes. First Nyala. First Impala. First almost everything. We spy a black rhino on a burned section of veld in the distance. The binoculars bring him closer. This little encounter reminds me of the t-shirts the Phinda Game guys sometimes wear, to advertise the Black Rhino Range Expansion Project (also funded by previous boss, WWF, funnily enough)…the t-shirts read “Wathintha ubhejane... Wathintha thina!” or in isiNgisi, “You touch the black rhino… You touch us!”. Gonna try get my hands on one of those for sure!


We meet up with Flippie (Head Ranger of Forest Lodge and class-mate from Stellenbosch). Good to see old mates and we all share some beers over the end of a fairly dismal Tri Nations rugby game in the staff canteen.


We link up with Ross after game drive and follow him home, ten minutes drive up north, out of the Sand Forest. He wasn’t joking when he said welcome to Josh Cox Lodge. He wasn’t joking either when he said we were having a party. A pretty shoddy job with a marker pen turned the “Josh” on the previous ranger’s son’s bedroom door, into “Josh Cox Lodge”, on our bedroom door. A pink pen adds the “and Kristal” after we arrive.


Rangers, reception staff and anyone and everyone who is tired or entertaining guests all day arrive to be entertained at our home. Zulu house music….I think…I know (!!) is pretty quickly pumping through the air and a bunch of interesting, good people, dressed up with nowhere (else) to go, bop around the living room out of time with the music. Another group, rangers, swop stories of the day’s grade two walking assessments and compare canteen recipes for “blokkiesvleis” (Phinda Game Reserve) and bone stew (Madikwe Game Reserve).


It seems that everywhere I go lately I meet people from Israel. But surely not at Phinda?! Or not a ranger at least?? Wrong! Gadi, the ranger, is from Haifa and has been ranging (and roaming) in SA for 2 years now.


Well, we make it to midnight and try to enjoy the cool house beats from our bed for about three hours beyond that. Sigh. Next morning we woke up and got our first view of paradise. Warthog, impala and nyala came to greet us at our front door, similar scenes I guess that &BEYOND legend Les Carlisle would have enjoyed at this house in the years that he ran conservation efforts at Phinda from here. It’s crazy to think that this is the original house they stayed in when the conversion of Phinda, from farmland to game reserve, started back in 1990. What a long way it has come!

Lazy Sunday morning start and we head off to Izwelihle (the central offices), or “Izwe” to meet with Reserve Manager, Simon Naylor. I meet the guys, the izinduna, that I will be working with – Jimson, Seven and Musa. Good people too, I can see it already. No “Wathintha ubhejane” t-shirts just yet unfortunately, but 2 nice green, uniform shirts and a hat. I’m sorted!


We head off into Hluhluwe. A spot of shopping. Well, if like R1800 counts as “a spot”. Thank goodness the fridge is massive and we were doomed to spend the R400 on a mini-oven the moment we got thinking (and worse, talking) about oven-fresh bread.

We cruise back to Forest Lodge in time to pick up a game drive. Well, a staff bumble with a trainee ranger. No snacks, no impressive drink stops, but we did each get a cold beer and some pretty impressive sightings. Not bad if you think it’s all FREE!! We hit the marsh up in the north, big herd of buffalo in the distance, then umkhombe, or two white rhino actually, drinking at Pipeline Pan. Great interactions with 3 8-month old lion cubs, who weren’t sure if they were curious or scared of the rhino. Mom looks on lazily.

Leftover pasta dinner. Early night. And then it’s the first day of work. GULP!! No-one likes a “first day of work” and I must confess I was pretty nervous. Would I just be an idiot and understand nothing? Would they understand me? Would they like me? Would I just break lots of stuff and be more of a hassle than a help? Well, it was fine, in fact it was amazing!


Today was the first day in my life where for a full working day all I spoke with my fellow workers was Zulu. Kuphela! Qha! Nkosinathi (God is with us), Vusi, Seven and Jimson, these guys are my team and the best guys I could have hoped to end up with. All super keen to teach me, all very confident that I will quickly gain fluency, all going out of their way to teach me the language and the work. I even picked up some zulu animal names. Nice!! It all goes into my little notebook, either to remember or to look up as homework in the evening.


Fencing. This was the job. Replacing old, broken fence-poles and buggered up fencing wire. Hard work at times, with all the digging, but not too bad actually. Getting fit and strong can’t be too unhealthy either. The nyala and impala watch on as we work. A staff vehicle is stopped, asked to reverse and then reprimanded just because they don’t greet us. Well, they know for next time!


A male nyala barks (yes, almost like a dog) his disapproval at us as we lie down to rest for a bit during the hour’s lunch. Hopefully he was warning the animals about us and not the other way around…


Finished replacing a section fencing, did a few more fence poles and then we head up Makhasa boundary road, with Makhasa Community Reserve on the other side of the fence. We meet the digger driver on the way – something about a puncture up ahead. We load the punctured tyre from the tractor and wait for I’m not too sure what.

Two common reedbuck dance off through the long, yellow grass on the open marsh here in the north of the reserve. They look back and wait. We wait too, some more, and then head off, dropping the tyre with the guy from the vehicle workshop at Tabankos’.


A nice loop down south, along “Main zinaav” and before I know it I’m home. It’s only 3:15pm. So great to have the first day done. I didn’t break anything. I wasn’t rubbish at everything. And there were only 2 or 3 times where I could not make myself understood at all. It’s gonna be goooood!!


Our room is transformed. Only a woman can make a home. And Kristal had spent lots of the day doing just that – it looks amazing!! And oven-fresh bread too! A quick taste (yum!!) and we head off to visit Able (Zulu name: uMduduze) at Bayete Camp, going via Forest Lodge to show Kristal the guest pool and sign indemnity forms. Oh, and to meet “Chippie”, the nyala who eats carrots from your hand. Naughty naughty Forest Lodge staff!!


Kristal is lapping up the Zulu and learning loads; it’s so great to share that with her. I’m sure she has learnt more than me today, positive in fact.


Home for delicious rice, cheese sauce and beans. Yum again! The hyena’s can probably smell the food and let out a few whoops of jealousy. We aren’t bothered. We drink it in. Soon the nightjars join in the chorus. Aaaah…


Some Zulu homework for us both and another tough day in Africa has come to an end….

Ikhaya lethu

Kristal writes:

Josh and I are so grateful for the adventure that lies ahead of us!
Our adventure started on Thursday 19 of August 2010. We left Cape Town, drove for three days and visited friends on the way. On Saturday, just as the sun was setting, we arrived in Phinda Private Game Reserve. Phinda and especially the house Umfaan’s turf has become our home for the coming three months!

We share our home, ‘ikhaya lethu’ ( in Zulu) with Ross, who is a very experienced researcher/ranger. He arranged a party when we arrived, so we have met lots of people already. They are all very passionate about their work on Phinda, I think I will be able to learn lots about the vegetation, the wild life and the culture in the time that lies ahead of us.

The first morning after we arrived, the sun just rising above the horizon, we saw a wildebeest, some nyala and warthog’s right in in front of the house. On game drive we had an encounter with two rhino’s and three lion cubs who tried to impress them; lots of fun to watch.
It’s amazing to be in this environment where life is so pure. I love the sounds of birds, hyena’s around...

The coming week I will stay around the house, which we can’t leave by foot. I have started studying Zulu and will carry on with that. Hopefully next week I can use some of my Zulu when I go into the communities to work at a primary school.

Josh had his first day of work today. I love to see his passion for this place! He came back all smiling, stepping out of the Landover saying ‘hamba kahle’ to his Zulu-colleagues, for this first day has given him a glimpse of how his Zulu will improve!
It’s such a rich experience that we share already and there’s lots more to come!
Salani kahle!