The Soul of a Lion

time to go again

2012-01-04T02:10:00.001-08:00

I’m always a little sad during my last few days of a Harnas trip. Tuesday night at dinner, I suddenly started crying over my food. No explanation to Johannes, my server, needed. He just gave me a hug and said he understood. He’s seen it a hundred times before with guests and volunteers alike. He just said, “I will look forward to the day when you return to Harnas.” That made me cry more.

I try to make the most of my last days. On Tuesday afternoon I took a walk with several volunteers that I especially like and three baboons that I’m fairly fond of. We walked through the bush while the baboons ate berries, explored, and took a ride on our heads—as in this picture. Sometimes they were sweet, giving kisses, and a couple of times they took a ride on their mood swings and tried to bite us. Generally, we forgive them for the latter. They’re baboons, after all, and live a manic life.

Today, walking across the lapa lawn, I saw a strange sight: a baby crocodile—about two feet from head to toe—was trying to get INTO the adult croc enclosure and had gotten his head, front legs and part of his belly through the chain link fence and then gotten stuck. The big croc—nine feet in length and scary--had his long mouth around the head of the baby croc, pulling him through. He could have beheaded the baby with ease, but seemed to be trying to HELP the youngster. Apparently the little one had gotten out of the baby pen and decided to join the two adults. Odd situation. What was actually happening here?

Of course I called for help. Gabriel, one of the bartenders, came running and we tried to decide what to do. I grabbed the tail of the baby and pulled him back—out of the mouth of the adult—and then Gabriel picked him up by the tail (brave man—flashing teeth and anger emanating from the little one) and carried him back to the baby pond and deposited him there with his siblings. Then we looked at each other and laughed. You just never know at Harnas what will happen. Rescue a baby croc? Just part of the morning routine.

This afternoon I visited my new love, Atheno, and asked a volunteer to take some pictures of the two of us cuddling. This picture is my favorite. I’m going to miss this boy. Just how do you tell an animal that you have to leave—to go back to work to make money so you can visit again? I’m sure I don’t know.

My heart breaks every time I leave Harnas. Tomorrow morning I begin the return. Thanks for taking this journey with me again. I appreciate all my readers and especially the ones who leave comments. Until the next time—B

this and that

2012-01-02T23:46:00.000-08:00

It’s been a slow couple of days here—just enjoying the peace and quiet of the new year and spending time with my favorite babies.

I finally went back out to find Pride again—hoping she wouldn’t have just made a kill, so I could cuddle with her. Sure enough, we found her lounging under a camelthorne tree. As soon as we came into her sight, she started purring. She was affectionate and cuddly—amazing that one minute she’s a natural born killer and the next she’s licking the faces of her human companions and purring up a storm. She truly a wonderful cat who has proved to all that wild animals brought up by humans CAN be returned to the wild.

Yesterday, I took two new volunteers out in the late afternoon (it was soooo hot—it’s been over 100 degrees several days in a row) with the two 3-legged caracals for a walk in the wild. You’d think they couldn’t go very fast with only 3 legs, but they can really move when they want to. The heat kept them down a bit, though, and they spent most of their time moving from one shady tree to the next.

Here’s a great shot of one of the baby leopards resting, legs slung over the wooden log, hanging. This is how they sleep in the trees. Their balance is astounding. They look so carefree, but about two seconds after I took this, Gabana was up and flying through the air to land gracefully on his sister, Dolce. They move so fast and soundlessly. I can see, even in these babies, why they’re the stealthiest hunters in the wild. Nobody would see or hear a leopard coming.

Only a couple of days left. It’s been a great trip.

2012

2012-01-01T05:50:00.000-08:00

I hope everyone had a good New Year’s Eve. It was wonderful here.

Marieta had the Bushman set up long tables out on the grass the lapa area and the cheetah enclosures (I'm sure the cats were a bit confused all night). All afternoon, they roasted three sheep and twelve chickens on spits over fires and the kitchen people prepared a feast of side dishes. Spotlights and candles were set up all over, and someone worked as a disc jockey near what used to be the outdoor dining area but what became for one evening our dance floor.

Around seven guests and volunteers began arriving. The volunteers had decided the theme was a masquerade ball, and they had all made masks decorated with whatever they could find. Feathers from the aviary were popular—as was some glitter from the children’s school. This picture shows a group of them showing off their masks.

Before dinner the Bushman children did a series of African dances to entertain us. No music--just handclapping in various rhythms--like their own sets of drums. They were so great—had on traditional costumes and really stomped and clapped their way into my heart.

Lots of eating, drinking, and laughing all evening, and then there was dancing under the stars for hours. Finally, at what we agreed was midnight (there was no Dick Clark and a lighted ball in Times Square), we all stood in a circle and counted down from ten. It was a memorable way to bring in 2012—a New Year’s that will stand out in all our memories as beautiful and fun and a bit exotic.

Today everyone looks a little worse for the wear, but we all agreed it might be our favorite New Year’s celebration ever. It’s hard to top dancing under the African stars while the lions roar in the distance.

un-routine routine

2011-12-31T03:48:00.000-08:00

As the days have gone on, I’ve found a sort of rhythm to my days. After getting myself together each morning, I head over to Marieta’s garden area and feed the two macaws and the African gray parrot some peanuts (I’ve trained them to come to me when I yell, “Peanuts!” and the parrot will even perform a bit for me by saying “hello!”)

Then I take a couple more peanuts (yes, I brought them with me) to Audrey, the blind vervet monkey, who is a whopping 22 years old—practically unheard of, but true. She comes out of her little house when I tell her I’m there with her morning treat, pats her hands on mine until she finds my fist, and then unwraps my fingers one by one to get to the peanut. She’ll often touch my hands between bites to make sure I’m still there. (And her cage mate, a squirrel named Fred, comes over and takes his nut out of my hand, too.)

After I slip a couple more peanuts to the monkeys in the cage next door (they always look on with their big soulful eyes and beg), I move over to the garden area that houses Atheno the cheetah cub. I spend a few minutes brushing his coat and scratching him while he purrs. Then we play chase: I drag a toy along the ground while I run around as fast as I can and he waits as long as he can before he pounces on it. He’s fast, let me tell you—and he can turn on a dime. Sometimes the grass is slippery, though, and he goes careening into a corner before he can get his footing. I’m usually laughing hysterically before long, and we do it again and again until we’re both panting.

After some more cuddling (if I can get him to calm down long enough to let me), I’m off to gather up Pickles where I’ve left her by the outside gate, and then she and I head off to get some breakfast. I can’t think of a better morning routine—not ordinary, by any stretch of the imagination, but certainly joyful.

working it out

2011-12-30T01:40:00.002-08:00

For the past few days I’ve been able to work with the volunteers. Their numbers are a bit lower than usual—because of the holidays—and yesterday they lost quite a few when a group flew home. Today they’re down to about 12--compared to sometimes having as many as 50--and the new ones coming this afternoon won’t be able to help much until they’re trained.

So I’ve joined in and had a good time. I helped clear the weeds from a cheetah enclosure where guests go (so it needs to be looking good). Then I helped clean the water hole in the aviary. And this morning I worked in the food prep area, cutting meat into various sizes for different creatures (1 inch cubes for mongooses; steak size for cheetahs; strips the size of your smallest finger for the bat-eared foxes), and finally I helped rake and clean up the aviary. I admit I'm a big sore in my shoulders and arms.

None of these activities are picture worthy, so I’m including a picture of Asem, our movie star vulture. He had a small part (picking at a dead body by the side of the road) in Beyond Borders from 2003. He was rescued as part of a group of vultures that were being smuggled into Namibia. Once he and his siblings were healed (and some died as a result of the smuggling), they were all released, but Asem kept coming back to Harnas. He just didn’t want to go. Finally, Marieta decided he could stay in the aviary—where he’s King.

The one thing I’ve been reminded about the last couple of days is how hard these young volunteers work. They toil out in temperatures that are near 100 degrees, doing manual labor they’ve probably never done before, and they pay to do it. It’s mostly European kids between 18-30, taking time off from work or in between school and work. I wish more American kids would take a gap year and do things like this. It changes your perspective and makes you appreciate how great you have it. And it helps the world become a better place for both people and animals.

some rescued cats

2011-12-28T04:15:00.000-08:00

Only about 25% of the animals rescued by Harnas can be released back into the wild. First of all, there's not that much "wild" area left in Africa. Every place belongs to someone: owned, fenced off, ranched, farmed, mined. So the first thing that's needed is a place. Then you need an animal that can survive on its own.

Since lots of animals are brought to Harnas as babies, they lack the training wild animals get from their mothers. Others are pets that have grown to large or aggressive. Some are injured or maimed in some way that makes it impossible to release.

Such is the case of four of our caracals. Two of them are blind--lacking the right nutrients as babies. These two are Romeo and Juliet. They seem to be able to see light and shadow--a bit--but they would never survive alone. They'll live out their lives here at Harnas in the best way they possibly can.

Two others, who live in the same enclosure with Romeo (the one in the picture) and Juliet, have three legs each. Their mother, apparently, was really stressed out as a new mom and actually chewed one foot off each of her babies. (Hey, I understand. That probably would have been ME if I'd had kids, so I'm not blaming her.) Anyway, they get along okay, but of course they could never hunt in the wild.

So these four live together in an enclosure, are fed every day, and they have their various ailments looked after medically. Anywhere else, these four would be put down rather than have someone pay for the expense and put the time in to take care of them. But this is one thing that I love about Marieta. She isn't just interested in the survival of the SPECIES. She believes every INDIVIDUAL has a right to live, a right to exist.

Sure, if an animal is in pain, that's different. But these four seem to take their disabilities in stride. They have a good place to live and they even get to go out on bush walks with volunteers--they do as much as makes the animal comfortable and happy. And they're loved.

morning visitors

2011-12-26T02:05:00.000-08:00

This morning I was doing some writing in my little house, enjoying the cool temperatures. (It's academic writing. I know--boring--but consider my global perspective: I'm writing an article for an American journal in Africa about a Japanese writer!) I had my door open and most of the windows.

Then I heard a little squeak—then another, and another, and I looked over at my door to find a herd of mongooses (yes, it’s mongooses, not mongeese) coming to visit. Since Pickles had gone running off with Marieta this morning (she got tired of waiting at the cheetah enclosure for me to exit), it was the perfect day to have these guests (dogs and mongooses—not a good match). Plus, they eat bugs of all kinds, so I love to let them houseclean for me.

Between 10 and 15 of the little creatures (about the size of a ferret) came in and spread out through my house. They’re very curious and have to get into everything. Some went into my closet and explored, others went under my bed and scratched at something. A few went into the bathroom and were picking at the toilet bowl brush. And then a few of them went behind the cupboards in the kitchen and got into the shelves.

One got stuck there and started squeaking pretty loud, so I had to open the cupboard door and let him out. As long as I stayed quiet at my table, they weren’t scared of me. If I moved, stood up, or made too much noise, they all went streaking out the door like creatures fleeing from a fire. Then they would creep back in.

They stayed for about 30 minutes, and then they heard the volunteers calling them with their breakfast meat—“Brrrrrrrrrr, brrrrrrrrr, brrrrrrrrr.” The scampered off and I was left with a bug-free house for now.

You just never know what’s going to happen here at Harnas.

Christmas in Africa

2011-12-25T01:07:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas, Everyone! What a simple joyful holiday it is here in Africa. Last night for Christmas Eve the whole Harnas “family” joined together for a celebration on the lawn by the lapa.

The Bushman children sang songs—none of them Christmas carols that I recognized—but so full of jumping, hand-clapping, and gestures that I could hardly contain my delight. You can see the movement in this picture. I wish I could send you my video, but that will have to wait till I get home. Still pictures take about 10 minutes to upload, and I can’t imagine how long a video would take. Since I pay per minute here, I think I won’t attempt it.

After the children sang, the volunteers, staff, and guests took turns singing “Silent Night” in their mother tongue. So we had versions from Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Germany, Netherlands, English/American/Australian, Herero, San, and Afrikaans.

Then “Father Christmas” arrived with a present for each child and each staff member. Just a token something from Marieta and Harnas, but it was close to 100 people, I think. She even got a little something for me. Here, it truly is about the thought rather than the thing.

In an around it all were dogs, cats, a baby springbok, three baby donkeys, desert tortoises, and baby ostriches. The manger scene had nothing on us.

Today for Christmas, there was a special service at the small, open-air chapel that Marieta had built in honor of her husband and son—who both passed away in the past decade. More singing, dancing, and children. Later we'll have a big buffet lunch for everyone. And that’s it. The one decoration is a sort of tree made from part of a cactus--which has red tinsel on it. It looks sort of like a Dr. Seuss tree.

Back to feeding the animals and taking care of them—they don’t take a holiday.

So simple. So pure. A perfect Christmas in my book.

tracking Pride

2011-12-23T03:42:00.001-08:00

This morning I got to participate in an exciting activity. I think I've mentioned the cheetah Pride before. I know her story is in my book. She was a cub when I first came here as a volunteer in 2007, and she's one of the cheetahs that I spent the night out with.

She's been one of the real success stories here at Harnas. Even though she was hand-raised by humans, she's been released into the Lifeline area to hunt and live free and wild. She's been very successful at hunting, and doesn't rely on people for food anymore--BUT when humans come around, she's still tame enough to come up and lick their faces.

She wears a radio collar and the research team checks up on her every day to make sure she's eating and is okay. Today I got to go out with Erin, a researcher for several projects, including tracking Pride.

First we picked up and then released Max and Moritz, the two tame cheetahs that are on "soft release" these days--meaning they spend days out in the Lifeline area and then come back to their enclosure at night. They're occasionally successful at hunting, but still not quite ready for full time in the wild. This is a picture of me and Max. You can see that I rode in the back of the truck with them to the drop site.

Then we delivered some meat to some African wild dogs for their breakfast. Awesome creatures.

Then we started to track Pride through her radio collar. We started holding the antennae out where she was last located and then moved out from there. It took over an hour to get our first "beep" on the radio, signaling that she was near. We kept driving and narrowing the search until we had a more specific area. Then we started walking through the bush, holding out the antennae and looking.

Finally one of the two volunteers spotted her under a tree. She had been hunting and had a small impala that she was eating. I'll spare you a picture of that.

She's an amazing cat--to be able to live and hunt freely--and still interact peacefully with humans--and all her instincts still intact! What a girl. She certainly fits her name.

the strong silent types

2011-12-21T21:21:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I mentioned my friend Doug, back in North Carolina, who is battling cancer. Well, at nearly the same time I was writing those words, Doug passed away, peacefully and finally free of pain.

When I got his wife Heidi’s email with the news, I felt stunned by the loss of this wonderful friend. And here I sat, on the other side of the world, living a life of peace while in North Carolina such a hard thing was happening to his wife and family. I didn’t know what to do.

So I did what I felt I needed to do: I went and spent time with my two favorite grown lions, Zion and Trust. Doug would have like these lions and they would have liked them. They’re the strong silent type, too, with more going on below the surface than appears. I told them about Doug and his family and explained what had happened. The lions seemed to listen, one even cocking his head as if he were contemplating it all.

When I first met Doug, I thought he didn’t like me because he so rarely said anything to me. In time I came to understand that Doug, like the lions, didn’t feel he had to insert himself into every conversation. He listened, and he listened carefully.

This past year, I’ve met Doug at a dog park every Sunday morning. While we sat on a bench in the sun, we watched our dogs, Ellie and Milo, play with the other dogs who frequent the park. We talked about our lives and our work. I kept up on his two daughters’ busy lives. He talked about Carolyn and Kirstin so lovingly. He described how different they were and what their strengths and challenges were. He told of their accomplishments with pride.

As a matter of fact, I was sometimes surprised at how much he talked—how that silent Doug was stripped away by comfort and familiarity—and I discovered the intelligent, funny, and compassionate man he really was. Those dog park meetings were so important to me, and our conversations became a touchstone for the beginning of each new week.

I told Zion and Trust all this, and when I finished they began to roar. True, at sunset they often roar back and forth with the other lions here, but there was something about the timing of this particular roaring that made me feel they were doing it for Doug. They began with huffing and advanced to full roars and soon all the lions at Harnas were joining in the chorus. It was so intense I could feel the vibrations deep within my chest, and I felt comforted for the first time since I had heard the news of Doug. And Doug? I think he would have liked their tribute.

seeking freedom

2011-12-20T23:24:00.001-08:00

I’d like to tell you about Max the Cheetah. Max and his brother (whose name I forget) came here from another guest park—a park that lacked the proper paperwork to keep the cheetahs (the government is really cracking down). So rather than be confiscated by the government, Max and his brother were adopted by Harnas. They had been pet cheetahs and are very comfortable around people.

Marieta is trying very hard to re-wild them. They go out in the Lifeline area on “soft” release every few days—that is, they have radio collars and are sent out to try to hunt. Whether they are successful of not, they get tracked down at the end of the day and brought home. This is will go on until they are either successful hunting the majority of the time (and be released full time) or show they can’t be released (and left to live out their days here).

Anyway, Max and his brother are in an enclosure right next to another cheetah enclosure, and every day Max goes over the fence and spends the day there. He’s not fighting with his brother and he’s not harassing the other cheetahs. He’s just going over there and sleeping under a tree.

I respect and admire that behavior. Max does it just because he can. It’s his rebellion against a world that no longer has a place for animals like him. You gotta love a guy who escapes just because. Just to show his independence. Just to say, “You can’t tell me what to do.” Gee—I wonder why I love that so much! Perhaps it says something about me????

One other note about the landscape here. I just love it. I grew up in Arizona, as most of you know, and the desert holds such beauty for me. The sky is so big and blue, and the sunsets are so orange, purple, and gold—filling half the sky with its colors.

I find such peace here, and I wish I could give that to some of you. My friend Doug, back in North Carolina, is battling cancer, and I wish, especially, that I could transfer some of the peace and beauty here home to him. I wish, at least in his mind, he could travel here and breathe the clean air, watch the colors in the sky, feel the breath of the summer breeze, and sense the quiet in the world here. Doug—my heart is with you, and I hope you can feel it to help you through some of your pain.

Herding Big Cats

2011-12-19T04:28:00.001-08:00

Today I got to go with 3 volunteers to take the 2 baby leopard for a bush walk. What an adventure. Our driver, Aleks, took us out and dropped us off—and off they ran. We scrambled to follow, and now I know firsthand what it feels like to herd cats. Basically, it’s impossible. You can FOLLOW cats, but there’s no leading or herding.

Eventually, after about an hour, they stopped to rest. The male, Gabana decided to take a nap under a tree, while the female (Dolce) wanted to keep on running. Two of the volunteers took out after her and Audrey and I stayed with Gabana. About 10 minutes later he woke up and we decided we better try to get him turned around and headed toward the road. We had no idea where the others had gone, but we trusted them to make it back to the road.

We wandered for about 45 minutes and hoped we were going in the right direction. (It is sooo easy to get turned around in the bush where everything looks the same and there are no paths to follow.) We tried to go in a straight line, but Gabana wanted none of that. In fact, he wanted to climb a tree and sleep. We tried carrying him, but he hissed and growled. We pushed him from behind. We tried to lead him. We cajoled, pleaded, and begged him to come with us.

Now it had been two hours and we didn’t know exactly where we were. Gabana climbed a tree and refused to come down. Well. Now what?

Audrey admitted she had no sense of direction, so it was really just me to figure out what direction we should be going. Our water was gone. So she stayed with Gabana and I walked 300 paces in the direction I thought the road was. No road. I turned back and (yea!) found her again. Then I adjusted about 5 degrees and counted off 300 paces again. The road! But then suddenly Audrey was gone—or at least I couldn’t find her. I called and called and finally she heard me and answered and I found her, the tree, and Gabana.

We lured Gabana down with my (now empty) water bottle, picked him up, and carried the squirming, hissing, clawing mass of fur for as long as we could. By this time, Aleks arrived with the truck, she honked, I went to find her, and we managed to get Gabana to the truck. Fortunately, the other two volunteers and their cat had also managed to get to a road—though a loooong way off. (Their leopard had refused to turn around so they just went forward for 2 ½ hours.)

We made it home, exhausted but laughing about our attempt at herding cats. What an adventure. Crazy cats.

On a sad note, Sam the lion died this weekend. His story is told in my book: he was born in 1990 and it was found that he had FIV—the equivalent of AIDS in humans. Sam was isolated with his also-infected brother Robert in an enclosure of their own so they wouldn’t infect other lions. Robert lived to 2006 and Sam till now. I love this story because this is what Harnas is all about: most people would have put them down rather than deal with their illness, but Marieta refused to do that. She gave them as good a life as they could live, and they both lived a long and happy life. When Sam died, he was the second oldest lion here at Harnas—21! He was a lucky lion.

fluids of all kinds

2011-12-18T00:20:00.001-08:00

I never know what my day will bring me at Harnas. As I write this, a herd of goats is grazing in my yard. (Cornelia--I'm staying in Elsa.)

This morning I woke up early (What time zone am I in?) and took a stroll out to see two of my favorite lions, Zion & Trust. They're in an enclosure about 100 yards from my house. I called their names, and what a sight to see! Lions running toward me at a gallop but knowing I wasn't in danger. When Zion came to the fence (Trust played coy when he saw I wasn't offering meat) and I scratched his head through the fence while he made deep "unnnnnh unnnnnh" grunting noises.

I was thinking, "Let's face it: any day that starts with lion-petting automatically gets and A+ in my book. It doesn't matter what else happens that day."

Lucky I thought that because just then Zion turned around and sprayed me with his urine--the whole right side of my upper body got it. I've seen him do this to my friend Willi from Munich (Hi Willi!) but I thought it was a male thing. Now I know it's a dominance thing.

Well, what do you way when you find yourself covered in lion piss? It's not an everyday problem, that's for sure. So I walked back to Pickles (who always keeps a respectable distance from the lions) and she sniffed me--perhaps with a little disdain). I had to wash myself and change my shirt so the other animals I see today won't up and run when they smell me coming. Even so, Atheno gave a thorough going over of my right arms when I saw her a bit later.

One other note. Yesterday evening I helped restrain one of the baby leopards (smaller than my dog Milo--maybe 25 pounds) while they cleaned a wound by holding one of her front legs. She was not happy about the procedure and showed it by sinking her teeth into one of my fingers. I actually watched her fang slide right into my left index finger and blood spurt out. I thought, "Hmmm. That doesn't hurt as much as you'd think, but I bet a bit from her mommy would."

We got her jaw unclenched and released my finger, and I walked back to my house, dripping blood, where I cleaned out the wounds and applied a hearty slathering of Neosporin. (Seriously, I wish I had stock in that stuff. Or maybe I could be their spokesperson: "Hey there! Troubled by a lion scratch? Bothered by a leopard bite? I've got just the thing for you!") The finger got pretty swollen last night but it's a bit better today--doesn't hurt much and certainly I'll survive.

Life in Africa seems all about body fluids!

Atheno

2011-12-17T03:55:00.000-08:00

I've fallen in love. His name is Atheno, he's about 4 months old, and his favorite activity seems to be chewing on my arms and legs.

Atheno (first named Athena because people believed it was a female--later they found a surprise and so he was renamed) came to Harnas on an auspicious day. Four months ago, Goeters, the most famous cheetah of all, nearly 25 years old, died a dignified and well-loved old man. Everyone was so incredibly sad. Goeters WAS Harnas. He had grown up here, walked in the garden free, and met thousands of people who got to pet him and hear his tremendous purr. On the day he died, Atheno arrived, scrawny and barely alive.

Now he is a gem, feisty and kittenish, playful and naughty. Everything you'd want in a cheetah. I've been in to play with him three times and I've already felt such a bond with him. And he seems to like me--the taste of me, anyway.

There are also a couple of new adult cheetahs that came from another wildlife refuge, and I've made my first visit to them. It's a strange feeling to see cheetahs for the first time, call hello from outside their enclosure, and then just walk in and start to pet. I was told they are tame, though, so I figured "Why wait for an introduction?" They turned out to be spectacularly tame, and I spent 30 minutes this morning before breakfast scratching their heads and listening to them purr.

Purring is one thing Atheno hasn't really done for me yet. I think you have to be relaxed to purr, and Atheno seems to prefer chasing balls around, swatting at a long feather boa, and wrapping his front paws around my legs. Once he slows down, I'll expect some purring.

Oh--forgot to mention. For those of you who have read my blog before, you know about my dog Pickles. She's a jack russell terrier, and when I'm at Harnas, Marieta lets me steal her to be MY AFRICA DOG. Well, when I arrived, I was driven to my bungalow in a golf cart. Along the way, I saw Pickles and some other dogs swimming in the water hole. I shouted out "PICKLES!" She looked up cocked her head and seemed to think, "Hmmm. There's a voice I know." I yelled again, "PICKLES!" And then it clicked. She shot out like a bullet, crossed a small field, jumped into the moving golfcart and onto my lap, and covered me with muddy kisses. Reunited at last! Since then she's barely left my side. Slept in my bed last night (after a dunking inthe pool to clean off) and is sitting under the table right now, waiting for me to finish. What a girl!

So the first day has been wonderful. More later--

Here--sort of

2011-12-15T04:06:00.000-08:00

A couple of hours ago, I stepped out of a plane and into a warm world with a bright blue sky--summer in Namibia. Glorious. It was a long trip, as usual, but with some movies, a few meals, and a wonder pill called Ambien, it goes fairly fast.

When I arrived in Jo-berg, I noticed that we were about 20 minutes late. I tore through the airport, but that still took almost 45 minutes. Long hallways, even longer lines, miles of stores--and finally I got to my gate with just enough time to spare to sit on the bus for 2 minutes before it took me out to my plane.

And of course you travelers out there no what that means. BAGS.

Yes, when I got to Windhoek, made it through the long immigration lines, and moved to the baggage pickup room, there were no bags for Barb. Since I lost BOTH of them (I have a backpack) it has to be that they didn't make it between planes in Johannesberg. More long lines filling out lost luggage forms. But hey--this isn't my first time to the amusement park. I can't even remember all the times I have lost luggage, so I took it all in stride, took inventory of what I had (very little), and made do. They'll find those bags, and probably have to drive all the way out to Harnas with them in a day or two--about 3 1/2 hours from the airport--but I assume I'll get my stuff back eventually.

The guy next to me in line wasn't so philosophical. It was either his first time ever losing luggage or he was smuggling something in to the country that he was afraid someone would find, but he was practically crying, screaming, and swearing all at the same time. I wanted to give him some valium and say "chill" but he probably would have hit me.

The transport driver waited all throughout this mess and drove me to my guesthouse--Uzuri Guesthouse, if any of you want to look it up (since I don't know where my camera is right now and I can't post a picture). He's studying wildlife conservation and during the drive to town we bonded over our mutual love of cheetahs.

This afternoon I'm going to walk into town and pick up a couple of t-shirts since I've been wearing these clothes for a loooong while now, and I'm not sure when I'll get my others. My safari pants have zip-off legs, though, so I have an automatic pair of shorts. No sandals, though--just my boots for now.

So I'm here--sort of. I have my computer--obviously--but I don't have my plug adapter, so once the power goes, I'm done. But all will work out, I'm sure of it. Meanwhile, I'm just glad to be here, basking in summer sun and heat and looking forward to seeing my animal friends tomorrow.

Cheers to all--especially those who aren't feeling so well these days. I'm thinking of you. --bb

Lions lions lions

2010-12-22T03:58:00.001-08:00

Last night Annika and I went for a special walk around sunset. First we stopped at Zion and Trust's place and talked with them for awhile. They've gotten to the point where they rub their cheeks on the fence and I rub my cheek against theirs when we greet. Nothing between my face and the face of a full grown lion with a mane and enormous teeth except thin wire.

Then we walked to see the Brothers. They've just recently decided that these 3 guys are too big and powerful to walk with people any more. (They recently took down a filmmaker who was here and could have really hurt him just with their weight.) So they miss people a lot and came running when I called "Come! Come! Come!" They were so happy to see us. They kept making lion sounds--hard to describe the way they "talk" when they're happy, but it sounds sort of like a giant, deep-throated dog who is attempting to talk human. We spent awhile with them--they were sad to see us go. Here's a picture of one last spring when I was here.

Then we moved on to the back of the enclosure where Macho, Simba and their three cubs were. The cubs and Simba were all lying along the fence, so we plopped ourselves down and "talked" with them as well. Then Annika said they sometimes run with her along the fence, so I jumped up and gave it a try.

It was amazing. Two of the cubs jumped up and ran with me, just a few feet from me on the other side of the fence. I'd run fast and they'd keep up. Then I'd stop, and they'd stop. Then I'd switch directions and so did they. It was a fun game for them, and I was laughing so hard I could hardly breathe (and I was running, after all).

Then when one of them looked away at a sound I jumped toward the fence and yelled "HA!" He jumped back and let out a baby lion roar. It was hilarious--I actually scared him.

Then we completed the circle and ended up with Zion and Trust again--and this time I ran with Trust. I was running the fastest I could and he was just loping along. It made me realize that outrunning a lion is a CRAZY thought. Your only chance in the wild would be outrunning at least one other person--then you'd avoid being dinner.

We got back to the lapa for dinner about 40 minutes late for dinner--where Cornelia and Willi were waiting for us. But it didn't matter. I felt ALIVE and QUIVERING with energy. Lions do that to me. They are astounding creatures.

Today I'm saying good-bye to all my babies until the next trip. I leave tomorrow at 9:00 a.m.--drive to Windhoek airport, fly to Jo-Burg, then 16 hours to NYC, and finally to Raleigh, NC, arriving Christmas Eve in the afternoon. It's been a great three weeks. I was hoping Harnas would work its magic on me by making me feel strong, resilient, and optimistic about life, and sure enough it has. Just yesterday I was suddenly filled with this immense feeling of happiness and thought, "I can handle whatever life throws at me. I am Woman Who Runs With Lions. Hear me Roar!"

See you on the other side of the world. --Barbara

this and that

2010-12-21T03:50:00.000-08:00

Last night we had an awesome full moon. No clouds, so the light was so bright I didn't even need to use my flashlight on the way back from dinner. I tried to take a pictures, but I'm not sure it's good enough to show, but here it is.

When I got back to my bungalow, I opened all the curtains and just fell asleep to the bright light and shadows. The lions were roaring and every other thing, it seems, was enjoying the clear night and full moon.

An update on the baby caracals: both the male and female (Romeo and Juliet) are drinking milk and growing rapidly. They've almost doubled in weight since they were born, so that's a really good sign that they're going to make it. You never know with orphans since the mother's milk is so important. But the odds look good for these guys. Thanks to Cornelia Achtel, who feeds them every four hours with tiny doll bottles--as well as takes care of all their other needs.

Their eyes are open and are a deep blue. They squeal a lot. We took them out on the grass in the sunshine today so they could soak up some vitamin D and feel what grass is like. They were adorable. It's hard not to pick them up and kiss on them every time they come near.

And the final news is that Annika Funke finished my painting! I can't wait to have it framed and put it on the wall. I was going to put it over my fireplace in the living room, but once I saw it, I changed my mind. It shows Zion (my personally favorite lion) watching over a young girl while she sleeps under the stars. Now I absolutely have to put it over my bed, where every night I'll imagine Zion and the animals at Harnas keeping a watchful eye on me under a night full of African stars.

It's hard to believe I only have one more whole day (Wednesday) left here at Harnas. The three weeks have just flown by. Now I have to return to cold weather, short dark days, and working for a living. But it's been wonderful, and I'm so glad I got this opportunity to come and celebrate the book with my African friends.

finding Duma

2010-12-20T03:49:00.000-08:00

This morning I was able to go out on a trip to find Duma in the Life Line Project area. She's one of the cheetahs who wears a radio collar and goes out in this huge but fenced area to live a life as free as possible (along with the cheetah Pride). Pride is out full time now, but Duma is on "soft release" which means she goes out for a couple of days and we check on her to make sure she's eating (that is, making kills) and then she comes in for a few days.

She'd been out for about 2 days, so it was time to check on her. Six of us went. I stood in the back of a truck with three others and we held a big antenna attached to a receiver, moving it back and forth across the road as we drove, waiting for the "beep beep" that would indicate she's close.

We had to drive around on dirt roads for an hour (the Life Line is very big--around 8000 hectares) until we heard the first beep. Then it took another 30 minutes of going slower and Herman standing out on the road with the antenna, trying to narrow down our search so we could find her.

Finally we located her lying under a big shady tree in a meadow by a place called the Dam House. It has a water hole and lots of game (we saw wildebeest, springboks, and warthogs). And best of all, she had her lunch with her under the tree--a recently killed small wildebeest. So her hunting had been successful!

We got out of the truck and walked over to her. She looked up at us and walked over to her kill and started munching--as if to let us know that it was hers. Then, she did the coolest thing: she looked up at us and purred--as if to say, "Yup, this is what I've done, and I'm mighty proud of myself."

We all stood at an appropriate distance and told her how proud we all were of her, what a good girl she was, and how amazing she is. (After all, Duma was hand raised. She had no mother to show her how to hunt, no other cheetah to watch as a role model. She figured it out all on her own, and that is a great achievement--to go from a tame, hand-raised cheetah to a full-on hunter.)

Then we got back in the truck and went home. With both Duma and Pride (who was also hand-raised) able to fend for themselves in the wild, Harnas takes a big step toward the release of many animals that it was believed couldn't be released again. This is only the beginning!

a typical morning

2010-12-17T23:34:00.001-08:00

I thought you might be interested in a typical morning for me. I woke up at around 6:30 this morning and started getting ready for the day. While I was slathering on the sunscreen, I heard Pickles growl out on the front porch. I went out and found her in full combat with one of the fully grown ostriches here on Harnas. It seems the ostrich was coming to see if I wanted to feed her, and Pickles had a problem with that. I broke it up, sent the ostrich on her way, and finished getting ready while I drank a cup of coffee.

Next Pickles and I went on our own morning feeding tour. I always bring peanuts to Harnas--unshelled--and I give one each morning to the 2 big red macaws, Tumela the African grey parrot (who talks to me--"hello""lapa lapa lapa" "tu MEL a"), then out to the garden to give nuts to the three young vervet monkeys and finally several to Audrey, the blind vervet monkey, who likes to find the peanut in my pockets.

I also say hello to the two baby baboons that I'm assisting in babysitting right now. I put them to bed last night (bottles and diapers--and some screaming), and Angela, the volunteer who is taking the bulk of the responsibility, got them up this morning.

On to the year old baby baboon enclosure, where I play with the wild six of them. Coco grooms me (I guess she didn't think I did a good enough job back at my bungalow). Now that I'm sure I'm groomed and lice-free, I head to the lapa with Pickles across the grass.

On the way, I break up a fight between a peacock and a rooster (???????). They can't be fighting over the same female, can they? I also watch while the 7 baby ostriches run across the grass, following by Summer--the baby springbok who follows them all day. I think she doesn't know she's a springbok and has adopted the ostriches as her herd/flock.

I leave Pickles at the gate to the cheetahs and spend some quality time with Duma and Goeters, petting and purring, purring and petting. Having made my connection with them and completed my morning meditation, I sit down at the lapa where I watch a volunteer feed one of the two baby donkeys (whose fur is as soft as duck down). The donkey then comes over to my table and sucks on my fingers just in case there might be milk hiding in there.

Petrus brings me coffee, juice, yogurt, and fruit. Cornelia and Willi (friends from Munich) join me for breakfast and fill me in on how the baby caracals are doing. Marieta left them in charge, and the two kittens are about the cutest thing you ever saw. Their eyes are open now, and they've turned into squealers and runners. Cornelia has to bottle feed them every four hours, so they stay at their house.

After breakfast I go find Annika (the amazing artist who is here at Harnas--and whom I've commissioned to paint me one of her astounding new "blue" paintings--more on that later). We leave Pickles inside the lapa gates and walk out to Zion and Trust's enclosure. The brother lions come to the gate and let us pet their faces while they rub on the gate. Then--for the THIRD TIME in the past week--Zion quickly turns around and sprays urine all over Willi!! (Apparently, it's a sign of dominance, and he only does it to males). The three of us women laugh, of course, and Willi looks down at his wet shorts and shoes.

Then off I go to my bungalow, where Pickles awaits me on the front porch. She somehow sneaks out when someone opens the gate to the lapa and heads out to find me. If she can't, she goes to the bungalow and waits. What a girl.

So about 2 1/2 hours have passed since I woke up, and the day has been exactly what I want it to be--and it's only the morning. I can say to myself that no matter what happens the rest of the day, it's been a day worth living already.

The magic of Harnas repeats itself every morning.

cheetah therapy

2010-12-16T03:50:00.001-08:00

Some people go to therapists. Some spill their guts to their friends. But for the record, I'd rather spend 30 minutes with a cheetah. It helps me clear my head the way nothing else does.

At least once a day I try to go in the enclosure where the Five Cheetahs live--Nikita, Leuki, Shingela, Afram, and (I can't remember the name of the last one). It doesn't matter because everyone just calls them the "Five Cheetahs."

Four of the five are very tame, and the fifth lets you know he wants nothing to do with you because when you move toward him, he'll hiss (it's a BIG hiss). I usually find them (unless feeding time is near) in the back of the enclosure under a big tree like in the picture above. I call out "Cheetahs! Cheetahs!" so they know I'm coming, and then I flop down in the shade with them and let them come to me. Sometimes, like in this picture, I'll be petting three at once, and I'll be wishing for a third hand.

Lots of big cats don't purr, but cheetahs are world-class purrers. I find it so soothing. I sat down with Nikita yesterday and just started to pet her face, neck and chest. She closed her eyes and let that purr go, and I felt renewed. Some of them get enough after 10 minutes and move away from me, but Nikita for some reason will let me pet her until I get tired. She just keeps purring and it's so strong that you can even see her neck vibrating from it.

It's hard to explain, but after just a few minutes of the petting and purring, I start to feel different--like I'm in the middle of a good massage or something. At first my mind goes everywhere--what I ate for lunch, what I'm going to do next, chores that await me back in America--but soon my mind clears, the way they say it works when you meditate (which I've never been able to do since I always see myself sitting there, and my mind won't stop making lists and planning the day).

Eventually, all I feel is the purr and all my mind does is float. After awhile, I feel so much better, I say my goodbyes and go back to the real world of Harnas (which is different from the Real World wherever you are).

And Nikita charges so much less than a psychologist!

Babysitting

2010-12-15T00:22:00.001-08:00

Marieta is leaving for South Africa tomorrow (and will be gone until after I have to leave, myself), so I'll be sharing babysitting duties of the two baby baboons, Elvis (also called Marnus by some) and Loede.

For those of you who have never tried to take care of TWO baboons (or any, for that matter), imagine herding cats--crazy cats. Also imagine the most poorly behaved three-year old in the world. Now you're beginning to understand.

They're a lot of fun, though, I have to admit. This morning I was with Elvis, entertaining him while Marieta had a meeting with staff. My best partner in all this is my dog, Pickles, who loves to wrestle with baby baboons. The play-bite, roll, run, and make evasive moves on each other. It's quite the show.

Sometimes Marieta's other dogs join in, and it becomes a free-for-all.

Tomorrow will be the test, though. Along with Marieta leaving, the volunteer who's been babysitting during most days, Jade, is also leaving. Elvis will be fine because he's become attached to me and several others, but the baby Loede (pronounced like Lloyd) has only really been attached to Marieta and Jade, and tomorrow she'll be screaming and crying for her moms (and she has a set of lungs, I tell you). It's part of the process, though, so she'll eventually be fine.

Wish me luck.

Zion and Trust grow up

2010-12-14T01:42:00.001-08:00

When I first came to Harnas in February of 2007, my first experience with lions was taking Zion and Trust on a walk. They were around a year old then--still pretty big by my standards then, but young enough not to be much of a threat.

But here's a picture of Zion as a cub (taken by a friend).

As we sat in the back of the truck with them--stepping on us and falling into us as the truck sped through the dirt roads, I got up close and personal with them--their faces and tails hitting me, their hot breathe in my face. I loved it. They are amazing creatures--especially Zion, who was always trustworthy and gentle. (Trust, on the other hand, never lived up to his name.)

Each time I've come back to Harnas, I've watched them grow up a little more until now they are massive and magnificent brothers, both with full manes and roars to match their stature. They are on the food tour now--which means every tourist who comes to Harnas gets to see these amazing boys get fed. And where I'm staying this trip, I can hear them roar throughout the night. It takes less than 2 minutes to walk to their enclosure, so when they roar, it sounds like it's at my door.

I've been campaigning for a walk with Zion, but Schalk (Marieta's son) just laughs. Even though he's gentle, if he took me down in play, it might be very serious. Instead, I'm hoping I'll get a lion walk with the three Brothers--who are getting their manes now, but are gentle and sweet--the way Zion always was. Still, this past weekend, a German film crew was here and went on a bushwalk with the Brothers, and one of the guys got taken down to the ground by a lion (in play, of course--and they have learned not to use their claws--just enormous paws).

Once a male lion reaches sexual maturity, all bets are off on how tame they can be. Most will turn even against the one who raised them. But I still think Zion would be a gentleman with me. Keep your fingers crossed that I get to do more than pet them through the fence.

Another animal story

2010-12-11T23:50:00.000-08:00

You just never know what will happen around Harnas. A few days ago, Marieta was getting ready for her bath one evening. The tub was full, she was naked, and she was just ready to step into the bath when BANG--her bathroom door flew open and in ran six baboons.

These are the group that include Coco and Jessie, two of the baby baboons that I wrote about last spring. Here's what they looked like back then: Now they're more grown up, of course--bigger and stronger--but Coco, especially, is still Marieta's baby girl. So when someone had trouble closing their enclosure gate while leaving (they're fast little creatures) and they all escaped, the first thing Coco did was head for Marieta's house where she had so many wonderful memories.

So the other five followed her as Coco ran right for Marieta's bathroom. And there was Marieta, without a stitch on, trying to close the door before the whole world came running in to catch the baboons.

With the door closed there wasn't much extra room for one grown woman and six teenage baboons whose lives are built around causing mayhem. While she struggled to get her clothes on, they jumped in the tub and swam, grabbed things off shelves, pulled out the toilet paper, and generally did what they do best--create confusion. This is what it looked like AFTER it had been partially cleaned up, the shelves lifted back up (they had pulled them over) and the water mopped.
Finally Marieta got her pants on and a shirt (but no underwear--and she was wearing drawstring pants, so she was worried one of them would pull the string and her pants would drop). She called for help, and the helpers got all of them back except Coco--who clung to Marieta. She had to walk her back to the enclosure herself.

What fun at bathtime, huh?

I love these little monsters. I got so close to Jessie and Coco last spring. Both of them had accidents of one kind, and I spent all day with Coco once when we ran her to Windhoek to a vet (I think I have an earlier blog--in January--about that.).

This morning I went into their enclosure, gave all six a couple of peanuts each (it distracts them so I can get in more easily). Then I just watched the four play while Jessie and Coco sat in my arms, grooming me. (I can definitely say I'm free of fleas and ticks because they checked my whole body, my scalp, and my face.)
A lot of people are afraid of baboons--some of the volunteers prefer not to deal with them--but I have to admit that I'm not one of those. They can be so much fun. Sure--when they get older, they tend to become more dangerous, and at that point I'd much rather go in with the lions or cheetahs than deal with the big ones, but when they're small, they are a lot of fun. I've helped raise a lot of little ones: my first trip here, it was Moses, Ita, Jacob and their group. Then it was Gracie and Frikkie and others. Last trip was Coco and Jessie and the four that have joined them. And now I'm working my way in with Elvis and Loede (who are still a bit wary of me, especially when Marieta, their mum, is around).

Big baboon fun!

new post

2010-12-10T04:57:00.001-08:00

Hey everyone--I wrote a new post called "every animal counts"--but it's listed as 3rd on the list and I don't know how to move it up to the most recent one! So if you want to read my amusing story--and I guarantee this one is amusing--click on "every animal counts" in the list of posts. --bb

rude awakeninig

2010-12-09T04:00:00.000-08:00

Some mornings I think, "I guess this will just be a regular day at Harnas," but then I remember that there aren't any regular days--most days are extraordinary in some way with drama happening all around, especially when you consider that there are 400 animals all living their lives around you.

This morning around 6:00, my African dog Pickles nudged me gently to let her out to pee. I got out of bed and opened the sliding glass door about 6 inches--then went back to bed. A few minutes she came back in and I felt her jump on the bed and settle down with me and her tennis ball (that goes everywhere with her). We went back to sleep.

A little while later, I awoke to Pickles standing up on the bed, growling her most fierce growl. Then she HURLED herself off the bed, and I sat up just in time to see her chasing two flashes of silver at the foot of my bed, headed toward the open sliding glass door.

My first thought was mongooses (her mortal enemies), but these had tails. Then I thought "cats" but these were lankier. I launched myself out of the bed and ran to the open sliding door and saw six adult and one baby vervet monkeys who were hanging out on my porch, banister, and roof.

Pickles was furiously telling them in no uncertain terms that this was HER territory and they had to disappear immediately. I slid the door closed quickly. Vervets are relatively small, but they have razor teeth that they can use to slice open your neck like little vampires. They seemed friendly enough--I think they were from the enclosure only about 100 yards from my bungalow, and several of those I knew as babies before they were released. So I wasn't afraid of them so much as afraid of the skirmish that might break out between them and my frantic dog.

So I grabbed my camera, of course, and started shooting--keeping in mind that people might find this invasion interesting. One of the females had a tiny baby and I got some good shots of it. They stuck around for about 15 minutes and then moved on to the next venue for their mayhem--which I found out later was Willi and Cornelia's bungalow across the way (although they didn't go inside their house).

I went back to bed for awhile, wondering at the amazing place this is--where your morning alarm clock might be an invasion of monkeys in your house.

caracals

2010-12-08T01:49:00.000-08:00

New babies arrive all the time at Harnas--often injured ones, orphaned babies, or abandoned pets--and Marieta always takes them in. This week it is two baby caracal orphans--only hours old.

Caracals are very similar to American lynx. Caracals look like large tan housecats with ears that stand up with black and white tufts. They live in the wild and eat small rodents. And they can jump so high that they also bring down birds in flight. I kid you not. I tried to upload a video of it, but after an hour of waiting, I gave up. It looks like still pictures is all I can handle from Africa this trip. Here's one of a couple of them sitting. If you want to see the jumping one, there's a great one in my book.

The babies are the size of kittens, though, and their eyes aren't open yet. Marieta has to feed them every two hours with a doll-size bottle of special formula. They sleep in a basket in a pile of soft blankets to keep them warm. Originally there were four in the litter, but two died, so we're all pulling for these last two. So far they seem to be eating all right and seem strong (or at least as strong as a kitten can be who is only 2 days old).

They're just as cute as buttons, but a lot softer.

every animal counts

2010-12-08T01:31:00.000-08:00

I have a great story for you today. Marieta told me my first night here while we had a drink together. I was laughing so hard I almost spit out my wine.

Every animal counts at Harnas--not just the exotic or cuddly. First, keep that in mind.

Marieta's granddaughter (who ADORES animals as well), Nica, is--as Marieta puts it--the "true farmer" in the family. She especially loves goats and sheep, so when there were two orphaned babies, one of each, Marieta gave them to 7-year-old Nica to raise. Now Nica lives in Windhoek, the capital city of Namibia, most of the time and then comes to Harnas during school vacations. So when it was time to send Nica back to the city, Marieta put the two animals in the transport with her and sent them home, too.

Nica's mother Melanie called back a bit peeved--as you can imagine: "What do you think you're doing sending a sheep and goat to my house!" Marieta explained that Nica loved the babies and she couldn't separate them. "Well, they can't stay here," Melanie said, "I'm sending them back. They make too much noise 'baaaaa-ing' all the time."

A few days later, though, she called back to say that Nica had actually trained them not to say "BAAAA" but whisper "baaa." And she said maybe they could stay--that she was, in fact, falling in love a little with them. A few days later, though, she called back: "I'm sending them back to Harnas. My daughter was sleeping with them in her bed!"

So Marieta got the sheep and goat back, but she couldn't bring herself to put them out in the pen. After all, these animals had lived with a roof over their heads and they wouldn't know what to do outside. Besides, she didn't want Nica to think she wasn't supporting her--that she wasn't respecting her choice of pet.

So the sheep and goat began to live in Marieta's house. At night they slept in Marieta's bedroom with her--along with 4 dogs, 2 baby baboons, and sometimes baby springboks or kudus. First, the sheep wanted to sleep in the bed, but Marieta eventually taught him to sleep in a bed she made for him at the bottom of her bed.

And I know you're wondering about the poop and pee. Well, hold on now--like the baby baboons, the goat and sheep wore diapers, but they were so big by then that she sent her daughter-in-law Jo to Gobabis (nearest town) to buy adult size diapers. The sheep also sucked on a pacifier all night--no joke. So there they all were: At night Marieta would put diapers of all sizes on animals of all sizes, and they would all sleep together. Marieta said the sheep became quite attached to her. If Marieta needed to get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, the sheep came with her, watched her, and then returned to bed with her.

On Sundays, the goat and sheep followed Marieta to the little church that is here on Harnas. They'd sleep during the service and then follow her home.

But eventually something was bound to happen--the poop that the sheep was making began to smell really bad, and when Marieta would take off the diaper in the morning, the sheep would wag his little tail and poop would fly all over. "ENOUGH!" said Marieta.

But she still couldn't bear to put them out in the elements--rain, heat, dark--so she had the Bushmen make a home for them, bigger than a dog house, with a roof, windows, and plenty of blankets to sleep on. Out they went--finally.

But when Nica goes out and calls them--as she did for me so I could get their pictures, they come running just like dogs.

Only at Harnas.

Okay, I give up. I've tried for 30 minutes to upload a picture of the sheep. You'll just have to imagine!

here at Harnas

2010-12-07T03:49:00.000-08:00

I'm really having trouble with my email here at Harnas--so if you read this and normally email me at my NC State account, please send things to my gmail account instead. It's Barbara.Bennett88@gmail.com

The first two days here have been wonderful, of course. I feel so at peace already. Yesterday morning I went on a walk with Goeters, the 23 year old cheetah who has been a death's door several times lately but has survived.

We started by driving him in the back of a truck to a place called the Tree House, and then we walked for about an hour on a dirt track--then turned around and went back. He walked very slowly but seemed to be enjoying himself out in all the scents and sounds of the bush. But it was hot, so when we got back to the tree house we thought he'd had enough and called for a truck to take us home. He didn't want to get back in the truck--even growled a bit when Marnus lifted him in--and I saw him later that afternoon and he was sleeping sleeping sleeping. It's so good for the old boy, though. It keeps his muscles in good shape and makes him more interested in the world.

I spent the rest of the day going around to my favorite animals, but still didn't get to them all. Marieta has two new baby baboons--Elvis and Loede, and in the afternoon she took those two--along with the 6 others who are a bit older (including Coco and Jessie) and they all played on the lawn. A few even went swimming in a pond (baboons love the water).

In the evening, Cornelia and Willi came to my wonderful bungalow (called Caso) and we sat on the front porch and drank some wine while we listened to the sounds of Harnas. Caso is verrrry close to the lions' enclosures (which I requested) and starting about sunset, they take turns roaring their territory to each other. At times during the night they would get started, wake me up, and it would sound like they were right outside my door. FANTASTIC. Even Pickles (my Jack Russell terrier while here at Harnas--I steal her from Marieta_ would sit up in bed and look around like "Where ARE those lions?" It was magical. I couldn't ask for a better way to spend each night than listening to the power of the lions.

Speaking of Pickles, she was so excited to see me when I arrived that she jumped up and up and up almost to my chin level. She's hardly left my side since.

This morning I went on the food tour. I'll tell you more about it, but I'm afraid how long this connection will or will not last, so I'll leave it for another day.

So much to tell. I'll write again tomorrow if the internet holds.

the African book launch party

2010-12-04T23:47:00.000-08:00

Last night we held the book launch and fund raiser here in Windhoek--the official reason I'm in Namibia for this trip. It was fabulous--held at a newly renovated warehouse type building that used to be a brewery. It was very cool.

We started the evening with a "meet and greet" in an outdoor patio area with champagne and hugs. I was surprised at how many people came-over 200!

Then we moved into the main area where we were highly entertained by a man who is well known here in Namibia--Kevin Leo--who is an opera star but also sings contemporary songs. He has an amazing voice and is so funny, too. Lots of the evening's activities were in Afrikaans, but Marieta sat by me and translated when I asked.

We had a four-course meal, and in between courses, Kevin would sing, Jo spoke, and then I spoke. Scary--speaking in front of 200 people I didn't know who were expected an author-type. I was a great evening. I even quoted Robert Frost's poem "The Road Not Taken" because Marieta has definitely "the road less traveled by--making all the difference, not just for her and the animals, but for all the people she's touch (like me!) with her inspirational life and work.

Then we had an auction and--you won't believe this--someone bid for a signed copy of my book and paid--are you ready for this?--500 American dollars. I know the person just wanted to donate the money to Harnas, but to do it in the name of the book was astounding to me. Marieta and I just looked at each other while our eyes got bigger and bigger with each bid. And the money will go to the animals--which makes it all the sweeter.

Kevin sang some more--appropriately "I did it my way." Then we moved into the next room where people could bid on a few more items, nibble on some sweets, and buy a book and get it signed by Marieta and me. What a night!

But today we go to Harnas where my wonderful animals await me. I cannot wait to see all my "babies." I've had to prioritize which ones I'll see first. And Marieta says there are two new baboon babies that need my love! Yippee!

Here Again

2010-12-03T07:00:00.000-08:00

Well, I'm here! After an amazingly long flight from NYC to Johannesburg, South Africa (almost 16 hours on one flight), I got off the plane and walked down the stairs to a crystal blue sky and 85 degrees. Oh yeah. It's summer in Africa. My pasty white skin started prickling with sunburn almost immediately, so I slathered on the sunscreen. But how wonderful to find summer on the other side of the world.

I'm staying in the capital city of Windhoek for a few days for the book launch party/fund raiser, so I'm at a small guesthouse called Uzuri--which already has made me feel at home with two cats and two dogs wandering through my room at all times. I was met at the Windhoek airport (no one has ever met me at that airport before!) by my friends from Munich, Cornelia and Willi, and Marieta's daughter-in-law Jo. Hugs hugs hugs! Jo talked a mile a minute (as she does) all the way into town, getting me caught up on the plans for tomorrow night's party and family news. I haven't seen Marieta yet because she always takes her first day in town to do primping things like hair and nails. (I find it both amazing and inspiring that along with taking care of 400 animals, Marieta always finds time to take care of herself, too! Oprah would be proud of this woman.)

This afternoon I've relaxed, taken a nap, done a bit of swimming in the pool, and unpacked a bit. Tonight we're all meeting at the famous restaurant here in town, Joe's Beerhouse.

I've been under such a strain at home for the past few months--both personally and professionally--that this feels like the first time I can truly take a deep deep breath. As usual, the burdens of life are lessened for me here in Namibia. I'm hoping and planning on both Namibia and Harnas to work their magic on me again.

The internet is a bit iffy at the guesthouse, so I'm not going to download any pictures today. But look for some the next time I write!

2010-12-01T07:49:00.000-08:00

Every time I leave Harnas, I try to have the next time I'll go in my mind. This keeps me from crying and whining and generally making a spectacle of myself as they drag me out of the gate and force me on an airplane.

So when I left at the end of March, I knew I would be returning in December for the book launch/fund raiser on December 4th. I leave tomorrow at 6:00 a.m. (don't even ASK what time I'm heading to the airport! It's obscene!) I plan on keeping this blog while I'm there as often as power and internet access allows. I hope you'll follow me and learn more about Harnas.

(This is the spot where I shamelessly remind you that my book tells even MORE about Harnas and would make a lovely Christmas gift for someone you love--even if that person is yourself!)

So here we go again! See you next on the other side of the world!

Buy the Book!

2010-09-23T10:50:00.000-07:00

Hey Fellow Bloggers, The book about Harnas and Marieta is finally out. It's been a great ride to get here and I'm so excited that people will finally hear the whole story about this wonderful place and amazing woman.

If you want to buy it, you can go to one of the following places:

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

National Geographic Books

And, of course, it's available at most bookstores (If it isn't, ask for it so they'll order it!).

Remember that half my profits go back to Harnas, so you can do something good for the animals just by buying the book. (And don't forget Christmas presents!)

And check out my Facebook page and also my blog on GoodReads

My Final Blog

2010-05-14T19:27:00.000-07:00

"Oh, I'm on my way, I know I am, somewhere not so far from here," begins Cat Stevens' "Sitting," one of my all-time favorite songs.

In some ways, the past months have gone fast, but there are times when I find it hard to remember the feeling of home. I guess that means it's time to head back and resume what a lot of people would call "real life."

But not before I say a few final words--and offer a few thanks, because Cat's song goes on to say "Sitting on my own--not by myself. Everybody's here with me." In truth, I've never felt alone on this trip. Writing this blog has been an enlightening experience. It's helped me focus on details, cement memories, and analyze my feelings--and feel close to the people I care about.

Sometimes, though, I admit it felt like I was writing to the air. Thank goodness for Courtney, Joanne, and Cornelia--my most consistent comment-ers. You three women tethered me to an audience, reminding me people were out there.

And Doug--who located me on Google Earth wherever I went--you were my best email pen pal. It made me feel secure to know someone knew exactly where I was on the planet--whether it was Otjewarango, Chiang Mai, or the Kinabatongan River.

Fred, my anchor--there aren't many men who would hold down the fort (and the dogs) while his crazy partner goes cavorting around the world. I can't thank you enough.

During the past 20 years or so, I've tried to live by a certain creed: that is, when I get to the end of my life, I want to be able to say "Remember when . . . " not "I wish I had . . . " This trip has gone a long way in furthering that belief, and although I probably won't leave this life with a truckload of money, I will go with a head full of amazing memories--including the new and old friends I've spent time with on trips like this.

What can you say about a friend like Amy, who travels to the far side of the world just to be "along for the ride"? You rock, Girl.

And Randall, my brother, who takes time out from Saving The World For Democracy to zip through the rainforest canopy--never once mocking my inability to stop screaming like a little girl.

Traveling alone mostly, though, pushes me into interacting with people I wouldn't otherwise meet, and my life has been so enriched by both these fleeting and lasting encounters in airports, on beaches, on trails, or just sitting around petting a lion.

At the core of this whole adventure, though, are the animals. I've had experiences and encounters whose significances I can't adequately express. For me, the creatures of the world are my best friends, my therapy, and my hope. I wanted to have that faith reassured and renewed on this trip, and I've been rewarded more than I dared dream.

Finally, Cat's song reminds me that "Life is like a maze of doors, and they all open from the side you're on." It's up to each of us--no one else--to make life wonderful and interesting. So put your hand on the doorknob and turn . . . .

Back from Baco

2010-05-12T21:28:00.000-07:00

Just got back from my last wildlife adventure (on this trip). Jodi and I went to Bako National Park for a night. It's a bit run down--the cabins were definitely rustic, but they did have a fan. It was still a sweat-fest, though, as most things are in Borneo.

It's worth it to rough it, though, because the wildlife is up close and personal, especially the macaque monkeys. They get aggressive around the cafeteria and if you stop paying attention, they'll snatch your food. And believe me, they're fast. There were six people sitting at a table in the middle of the porch, and one monkey sneaked up, jumped on a table, and grabbed a cookie out of a package before the people even knew he was there.

Another one kept jumping up on the railing behind my head and trying for one of my chips. I had to hunker down over the bag to keep him from grabbing everything I had.

It also must have been their equivalent of spring because there were babies babies everywhere. It seemed all the females were carrying newborns--and I mean young. If I got too close (which, of course, I did many times--it's ME, after all), the mothers would bare their sharp little canines at me so I'd back away. But I still managed to get one good shot of this brave little guy that got away from his mother for awhile.

Besides the macaques, the park has proboscis monkeys--those shy and bizarre monkeys that have the big noses. They hang out in the upper branches most of the time, but they move as a group, so if you see one jumping from tree to tree, you're bound to see lots more.

I made this film on Wednesday night. You can't see their beautiful gold color (except sort of in the 2nd tree), but their flight from tree to tree was too stunning not to show you. These are rare monkeys, folks, and you don't find them at your average zoo. The male leader makes this sort of honking sound through his enormous nose to communicate with his troop. Weird and wonderful.

And this morning, I finally saw the deadly but beautiful pit viper, which was hanging around a park sign. After all of us took pictures, the park ranger moved the snake to a more remote location. I'm really glad I saw it--and I know my friend Amy is really glad she had already gone home when I did.

Look for one more blog--probably on Saturday.

Sarawak Cultural Village

2010-05-09T18:39:00.000-07:00

Yesterday (Sunday) I took a shuttle to the Sarawak Cultural Village. It's sort of a living museum, showing how the various tribes here in Borneo live, eat, hunt, and celebrate. It's a bit touristy (especially after living the real thing in the longhouse earlier this week), but I was ready for touristy. I wanted to see the flashy outfits, wild dances, and hear the pounding drums.

The first part of the day I walked around visitinig the various kinds of houses built to show the varieties of communities depending on locale and lifestyle--mountain, river, farming, nomadic, etc. I might mention that they were all bigger, cleaner, more airy, and more inviting than the actual place I visited, but they were still very interesting.

The stairs and bridges were really fascinating. Here's a bridge from the Bidayuh tribe made from bamboo. I crossed it--but it felt precarious every second.

At each house people from the various tribes awaited to demonstrate skills, crafts, and so on--blowpipe hunting, weaving, cooking, woodworking, music. The things these people can do with so little to work with is quite amazing. I was especially impressed with the guy who did the blowpipe. His misses were few and far between. I wouldn't want him aiming that thing at me.

After walking around and sweating for a good part of the day--with several trips into the gift shop to cool down in its air-conditioned bliss--the main attraction of the day occurred: the dancing theater. Yes, it was touristy, but the costumes, music, and dances were quite astounding.

The man in this video is lifting a 20 kg weight with his teeth--that's about 44 pounds. It exemplifies his strength as a warrior (and having a good dentist, to boot).

No animals today--this is for my anthropological friends who often ask me more about the native culture of the country I'm in. (All right--to be fair, there was this kitten in the Chinese house that I played with for a good 15 minutes, but you can't expect me to go totally against my nature for a whole day).

I have two free days here in Kuching before we leave for Bako National Park, so I'll do some cultural stuff here--mainly shopping (think of it as hunting and gathering). If there's anything anyone craves from Borneo, now is the time to tell me.

Baby pics

2010-05-08T03:35:00.001-07:00

Today was a free day in Kuching, so Jodi and I chose to go back to the Semeggoh Orangutan Rehabilitation Centre. Orangutans are the main reason I chose to come to Borneo, so I couldn't pass up another opportunity to see these endangered apes one more time.

Jodi's friend Andy took us again, and he got a great picture of a mother and baby.

Anybody else in love with these beauties?

I leave for home in one week. Hard to believe. It may also be hard to believe that I'm actually ready to go home. I'm ready to put away the suitcase and live out of drawers instead of luggage. I also miss my sweetie, Fred. And every time I see a dog I miss my two pups at home.

I have a few adventures left--tomorrow I go to the Sarawak Cultural Village to see how the local tribes live and watch some dancing and listen to some music. And Wednesday through Thursday we go to Bako National Park to see my last glimpse of Bornean wildlife. I'll miss the monkeys, but I have animals of all kinds (both human and canine) at home waiting. Then you can all stop reading this silly blog!

Into the Jungle--and Out

2010-05-07T00:31:00.000-07:00

Well, sometimes adventures just don't work out, and that's what happened with this last one.

It started out well. Jodi and I left for a 4 1/2 hour van ride southwest of Kuching--within 40 km of the Indonesian border. (No, I didn't stick my toe over the border, Fred and Doug, because it would mean climbing a huge mountain and maybe getting arrested.) Then we took a 30 minute ride in a longboat--very long and very narrow--along the Batang Ai river. The ride there in the boat was through beautiful country.

We arrived at the bottom of a huge hill that led to the longhouse where fourteen families of the Iban tribe live and began our climb up the steep hill, carrying our packs. We planned on staying two nights with them. When we got to the house, I was hotter and sweatier than I had ever been--yes, that means worse than New Orleans or Bangkok. I could barely breathe and water was running down my body in streams.

The place was a little more rustic than either of us expected. Okay, A LOT more rustic. Take a look:
You're looking at the front "porch" that runs the extent of the house. Inside there is another long sort of "hallway" that serves as the common or living room where the people gather, eat, talk, and spend time. Then there are 14 doors that lead to individual bedrooms and kitchens. Behind that is the "back yard" with stairs leading down to the storage areas and so on. This is what is looks like from the back:
Once I caught my breath out on the porch (I never cooled down, but just kept sweating), I went inside to the common area where the Iban people served us--inexplicably--hot tea. More sweating.

That night we ate dinner (always sitting on the floor) and we gave them gifts--coffee, tea, paper and pencils. Dinner consisted of lots of rice (they grow rice) which they ate with their hands but were kind enough to give us forks, vegetables, and some meat that we'd brought. More tea. But also palm wine--which the chief offered and I promptly downed in one gulp--which he cheered about. I gained status. Then we went to bed. We were guests of the chief in his house and slept in his personal rooms. That's him on the left:We slept on the floor on thin mattresses with a mosquito net overhead. But the doors and windows were closed and there wasn't so much as a fan, so it was hot hot hot. It was a long night and I didn't sleep much. I had to get up once to use the bathroom--and I use that word loosely. I had to go out of the chief's house, through the common room, out on the porch (putting on my flip flops there), walk down the rickety stairs and into an outhouse type of building--all with just my puny flashlight leading the way. When I got back to the porch, one of my flip flops dropped through the slats and disappeared under the house. (My guide found it and gave it back the next morning.)

I woke up at 5:00 when 50,000 roosters started screaming at once. Okay--there were probably only 50, but that's A LOT when they're right under the floor you're sleeping on. I was feeling a tightness in my chest that I haven't felt in awhile, but I tried to pretend it wasn't there as we ate breakfast--eggs and fried bananas and bread.

Then we started on the day's activities with our guide, who had planned (without my knowing) a 6-8 hour hike through the jungle, up and down and through rivers.

It was not to be.

After about an hour, my chest seized up and began to burn. I couldn't catch my breath in the heat and humidity, and I admitted defeat. I hate to quit anything, but my asthma was having none of this activity. I told the guide I was about to have an asthma attack--in the middle of the jungle with no help available. The only time I've ever felt this way was in Ireland--and that time I ended up in a clinic on a breathing machine. I admit it--I was scared.

We stopped. We walked slowly down to the river and the boat and rode back to the longhouse. I waited while Jodi and the guide walked back up the hill and gathered our stuff. And then we came home to Kuching.

It took me several hours to breathe normally again--mainly not until I got inside the van with filtered air-conditioning blowing on me--but I'm okay now. I really hate to admit defeat, but the heat and humidity and hiking finally took its toll and I had to acknowledge my limitation. One night in the longhouse was all I could manage.

But it was still a good experience and I'm glad I was able to do some of it. The people were so genuinely friendly, and the life they lead in the traditional way is fascinating--although very difficult.

Not to end on a bad note, I made friends with the longhouse dogs--all 15 of them, the same size but different colors. They made everything more bearable for me. As animals always do.

King of the Swingers

2010-05-04T02:21:00.001-07:00

All day today I've been singing the song from The Jungle Book that the orangutan sings: "Now I'm the king of the swingers, yeah, the jungle VIP. . ."

Yup, more orangutans (did you know that it's officially spelled orang-utan and means "man of the forest"?). We went to Semenggoh Rehabilitation Centre this morning, and I saw a LOAD of these red-headed apes. They were much closer and more abundant than at the other sanctuary I went to up north. They were everywhere, in fact, and the rangers spent much of their time trying to chase them back up their trees to protect the visitors and reminding us people to "watch out" when the apes got too close.

They hung out at the feeding platforms some, but mostly they just hung out--just as curious about us as we were about them. At one point the alpha male (named Ritchie) lumbered onto the platform, sat his 250 pounds down, and began eating all the fruit. He is MUCH bigger than the other orangutans and has big cheek flanges that identify him as the leader. His hair is also about three times the length of the other apes. What a guy. When he finally left, he bent trees down left and right and even broke a few from his massive weight. Here he is climbing up a vine.

There were orangutans of all sizes--mothers, babies, juveniles, as well as the big daddy of them all. They seemed so comfortable and I got the feeling that if I had reached out my hand, they would have grabbed it. A big poster out front, though, showed injuries sustained by guests who got too friendly with the apes, so clearly I wasn't the only one who considered making friends with them. I learned from the photos and my memories of being attacked by a grown baboon in Namibia, and so I held my ground. (I wanted to touch them, though, so much!)

Here's a mother and baby. Be aware that these pictures were NOT taken with a zoom. They were really this close. As a matter of fact, after I took this picture of the baby, the ranger had to stop people on the trail because we were practically brushing shoulders with the mommy.

Finally, I'm going to include a film of an encounter I had with a juvenile orangutan who was swinging toward me and away from me over and over. He (or she?) was so close I kept thinking I should back away, but then he'd swing back and I'd stay where I was. He seemed like the kind of guy I could be friends with. You know, just hang around.

There's a point in the film where I get bumped by someone and the camera shakes and moves, but keep watching. I want you to see the end where he swings over and takes some fruit from one of the forest rangers. (By the way, the ringing sound you hear in the background is some form of cicada, not a fire alarm.)

I know you've heard from me three times in three days, but you're about to get another break. Jodi and I leave tomorrow morning for three days and two nights at a longhouse. This is the traditional structure of the local tribes (some of them were headhunters up until the end of World War Two!!). We're going to be guests of a community, eat with them, sleep with them, and participate in and observe their way of life. A different kind of "wild life." I'm both nervous and excited. Look for another blog in four days or so--and wish me luck that I keep my head on my shoulders.

On to the Rainforest

2010-05-03T02:27:00.000-07:00

One more picture to share from the river trekking. We came upon some silver macaques one day, and they had this adorable baby that couldn't have been more than a few days old. He looked right at me and seemed so human. I love this picture and I fell in love with this little one and wanted to pop him in my pocket and take him home.

After three days on the river, we left by van and drove over five hours into the heart of the virgin rainforest. Borneo has lost so much of its rainforests through logging and through clear-cutting for palm oil plantations, but there are several places that are protected. One of them is Danum Valley, and this is where we headed.

We stayed at a place called the Borneo Rainforest Lodge, a wonderful and luxurious resort smack dab in the middle of things. (Still no air conditioning, but the forest was cooler at night than I thought it would be, and there were fans everywhere. Still, during the day, we did little besides sweat.)

Every day (and most nights) we took hikes into the forest, wearing our full gear. Here are Amy and me in our gear, crossing one of the bridges. Notice those always-fashionable leech socks on our lower legs.

We saw amazing animals--more monkeys, orangutans, civets, a leopard cat (a bit bigger than a house cat and looking just like a leopard), flying squirrels and flying lemurs, weird insects!

The highlight was always finding an orangutan, and one morning we got more than our money's worth. Amy and I were rinsing out sweaty gear in our bungalow when Amy saw something move in the fig tree off the balcony. It was a large male that the locals call King--because he is the alpha male in the area, not because he looks like Elvis. He was calmly eating figs just five feet off the ground.

We called our friends from the other bungalows and we started watching and taking pictures. Eventually he even dropped down to the ground and looked right at me.We continued to watch, and I guess he enjoyed being the center of attention. He decided to move a bit closer--too close. He walked under our bungalow and came right at me and two of the Baltimore women. The workers who were doing landscape work started yelling "Go! Go!" So, still filming (of course), I backed away while he came right up on the boardwalk and posed. It was amazing to be so close to such a massive and rare creature. If I wasn't afraid of being ripped apart by his extremely strong arms, I would have gotten closer.

Today Jodi and I flew to Kuching (which means "cat") where we've rented a nice apartment in the central part of town which we'll use as our base. Jodi has lots of friends here because she comes here twice a year for 6 weeks each. Tomorrow morning we go to another orangutan sanctuary, so if you like these apes, you're sure to hear more about them in my next blog.

Borneo Adventures 2

2010-05-02T07:58:00.000-07:00

I was joined on April 23 by my friend Amy, three wonderful and crazy women from Baltimore, and our tour organizer Jodi (from Jodi's Jungle Jaunts). We took a short flight across Borneo to Sandakan and began a wildlife adventure that has seemed charmed in so many ways.

Our first visit was to Seligan Turtle Island, a sanctuary for sea turtles. We watched large Green Sea Turtles (their shells more than a yard long!) actually struggle ashore that night and we watched two of them lay eggs that looked a lot like ping-pong balls. The eggs are gathered up by the rangers and taken to the hatchery to protect them from predators (the mothers leave them alone anyway). Then after that, we got to take 50 or more of that day's hatchlings (about as big as an "OK" sign with your finger and thumb) and release them on the beach and watch as they scrambled and fought their way ten yards to the sea. Magical!

The next day we went back to the mainland and visited the Sepilok Orangutan Rehabilitation Centre. We went to a feeding platform where orangutans can come if they want food (but most eat in the forest once they're rehabilitated, but they always know the food is there if they need it). There is no guarantee of seeing any of our "red-headed cousins"--as the guidebook calls them--but we were lucky.

Some juveniles showed up as well as a mother and a clinging baby, swinging themselves arm over arm along ropes leading to the platform, often hanging by three limbs and gazing at us as curiously as we were looking at them. Here's a video:

We left afterward on a boat heading up the Kanabatangan River and spent our night at the Abai Jungle Lodge and the next two nights at the Kanabatangan River Lodge. Rustic with no a/c but right in the heart of river country. At night it cooled off and we had ceiling fans.

Each day we'd take boat rides up and down the river and on smaller tributaries. We saw so many animals--troops of monkeys (especially the rare and endangered proboscus monkey (the ones with the big noses), a wild orangutan, two crocodiles, a python, colorful and exotic birds. We reveled in the variety of animals we saw along the river.

But then the big moment came:

We came around a bend in the river and saw 6 juvenile and 1 adult female pygmy elephants (about 2/3 the size of other Asian elephants, but pretty darn big) swimming in the river, wrestling with each other and rolling around in the water to get muddy and cool. We stopped the boat and floated nearby, just observing and taking pictures--feeling so lucky to see seven of these hard to find creatures.

Trumpeting came from the forest and a herd of elephants began to appear from out of the trees: 5 . . . 10 . . . 20. . . .30. . . 60 appeared and lined the banks! We oohed and ahhed. Our guide said he'd never seen a bigger herd in Borneo.

And then they moved toward the river. One by one they ambled down the muddy bank and into the river, swimming in front of us all the way across to the opposite bank--about 40 yards or so.

We were awestruck. Even our native guide admitted he had only seen an elephant herd cross a river twice in his life.

Mothers, their babies, big males, elephants of all size. After an hour they were still coming, it was getting dark, and we had to leave before the crossing finished. We motored back to the lodge, giddy with the experience.

And this is only the beginning of our week. I'll write more tomorrow.

Final Leg==Borneo!

2010-04-22T21:49:00.001-07:00

I made it to Borneo on Wednesday late afternoon! This is the one place I've never been before, and from what I see so far, it's amazing.

I arrived 2 days before the rest of my four tour buddies, so I was booked into a resort on an island just off the coast--called Eco-Guyana Resort. I took a 10-minute boat ride to get there, around the back of the island to a crescent lagoon where bungalows rise out of the turquoise water on stilts. I'd always seen these kinds of places in my Islands magazines and wondered who gets to go to them. And now I know: ME.

When the woman took me to my bungalow (one side facing the lagoon and one facing into the jungle), she told me that I should only open my windows if I'm inside because the monkeys are naughty and try to get in. Well, I know she was trying to warn me, but of course then I was torn between keeping the windows open in hopes of having monkey visitors or keeping out the mosquitoes. In the end my hatred of mosquitoes won out, I'm afraid.

But it doesn't matter because on Thursday afternoon while I was cooling down inside, a little gray face peered in my window from my porch. Of course I went out and made friends. He seemed interested in my room but didn't want to enter--just peered in the door and took stock. We got to know each other for awhile, I took some pictures, and then he went over the banister and disappeared. (I believe he's called a macac, but I'm not absolutely sure.)

Before that, in the morning, I took a kayak and floated through the mangroves nearby. Very peaceful except for the hornbill bird who makes this amazing whistling noise. In the afternoon I was going to snorkel, but a whole bunch of big pink jelly fish with heads the size of basketballs showed up, and so I hit the pool instead.

Apparently these jellyfish have shown up in record number, and no one really knows why. Also, in the spring they're usually overrun with whale sharks here--but this year, not one. It's scary what the change in temperature in the world is doing. Nature is very confused.

Then this morning I took the boat back here to Kota Kinabalu. My friend from Winston-Salem, Amy, is arriving tonight--along with three other people on our tour--and tomorrow we set out together for another great adventure. So amazing.

How can I go back to grading English papers after this!!!

Flight of the Gibbons

2010-04-18T17:09:00.000-07:00

Yesterday in Chiang Mai, the three of us went to a place up in the mountains called Flight of the Gibbons. It's a series of zip lines through the rain forest and was Big Big Fun.

To work your way through the course, you do a series of 12-15 zip lines and 3 vertical drops (like the one in the picture above). The cables are as high as 150 yards from the ground and the longest one is 120 meters--that a football field and a half.

Nearly everyone screams, of course, especially on the first few, the longest ones, and the fastest ones (except my brother, of course). Vinita and I screamed a lot, actually. Kind of embarrassing afterward to look at the video and hear how cowardly I sound, but seriously, this is scary--and the guides often have fun with you, swinging the line or bobbing it up and down. Serious sadists.

The scariest one for me was like a Superman flight. Instead of hooking the cable to your chest hook, they hook it on your back. Then you free fall off the platform and "fly" across the chasm face first, arms outstretched, and hit a rope net at the end. Then you climb up the net to the next platform. Everything in my body said "Don't jump out of this tree, Silly Girl." But I finally did--and when I hit that net, I latched onto it so hard that I had to pry my fingers off to climb up. My throat is actually a bit raw today from screaming.

The great thing about this adventure is that the company gives back 10% to the local village to develop a sustainable economy for them--agricultural. Another 10% goes to the Gibbons Project, which is working to save the local population of gibbons monkeys.

By the way, you couldn't see the gibbons, but you could hear them. They were probably invisible to us because we were all screaming, but the funny thing is, they screamed back. We could hear them "whoo hooing" away in the trees.

They were probably mocking us. And we deserved it.

My brother's girlfriend Vinita had never done anything like this, and she turned out to be very brave. She was understandably nervous at the beginning, and you'll hear her screaming in this video, but by the end she was a pro.

We're heading back to Bangkok today where I'll do laundry and pack. On Wednesday I'm heading to my final leg of this Adventure Trip 2010: Borneo, an island in Malaysia.

On we go!

Elephant Therapy

2010-04-17T06:02:00.001-07:00

Pay attention, Readers. This one is good. I had excellent Animal Therapy today and am feeling sooooo good tonight.

My brother Randall, his girlfriend Vinita, and I went to the Elephant Nature Park today. It's a sanctuary for elephants that have been injured, abused, orphaned--much like the animals at Harnas.

In Thailand, elephants are used for the tourist industry, begging on the street, and used to be used for logging. In all those cases, the animals are often mistreated, and for a long time they didn't have a place to go.

Along came a wonderful woman, Lek is her nickname, and started this place for these beautiful and intelligent creatures to mend and live out their lives peacefully and safely. Right now she has 31 elephants of all sizes (and a baby due any day). Some were abused by their mahout, one stepped on a land mine near Burma, several are blind or deaf, a couple had been hit by cars--you name it, these poor babies had suffered it.

Along with hearing their stories and learning a lot about their plight, we had such a fabulous time today and we got to help out as well.

We fed them, played with them, let them kiss us, talked to them, heard stories about them, and -- my favorite part--we got to help bathe them in the river. You just can't imagine how fun it is to hang out with a bunch of elephants in a river. I'll include the video.

The babies were amazing--several really small ones (9 month old male who was hell on wheels, and a 1 year old whose birthday we got to share--they gave her a special treat of fruit, leaves, and other favorites, all tied up to look like a gift). They were so much fun to watch, cavorting around the adults and terrorizing their handlers.

All in all, I feel so renewed. Animals can sure do that for me.

Getting Wet at Songkran

2010-04-13T02:08:00.000-07:00

This week started the Songkran--or Thai New Year--Celebration. And it all centers around water. On Sunday, people go to a temple and pour water over a Buddhist monk's hands, asking for his blessing for a good year ahead.

Then the fun starts.

Everyone hits the streets and starts pouring, throwing, and shooting water at each other. People line the streets and wait for cars, open-air tuk tuks, pickup trucks, and pedestrians. Then, simply put, they drench each other.

They also throw flour on each other, which mixes for a nice, pasty mess, but no one seems to care. Even up here on the 8th floor, I can hear the car horns and the people shouting non-stop. Everyone seems to be having a good time. It's party time when everyone gets to act like a kid in a giant water fight.

I thought I might be exempt from the mayhem on my walk back from getting a massage this morning--you know, a white American woman of a certain age might not be the target for this craziness--and I did walk a while without being attacked. But before I knew it, someone had grabbed me and smeared flour on my face while two children dumped a bucket of water down my back. It seemed to be the signal that I was in on the fun, and soon I was getting even wetter.

Not a bad way to spend part of the hottest month of the year in Thailand--wet. Today is supposed to be 101 degrees with 90% humidity, and tomorrow is supposed to be even hotter. So if being drenched part of the time helps, I'm all for the fun.

And this goes on for four days! It's a week of national holidays--and even the Red Shirts are caught up in the fun, having stopped their protests to play in the water.

Time to put on dry clothes. Again.

Tiger at my Side

2010-04-10T19:04:00.000-07:00

I won't be able to do one of my favorite experiences in Thailand this trip (other exciting things planned!), but I thought I'd share it with you since I went just last July.

In Kanchanaburi, a place about 2 hours outside Bangkok, there is a Buddhist temple that has taken in ophaned tiger cubs--sometimes the mother has been shot by poachers, sometimes they're found wandering. The monks started by taking in one cub, but as things usually happen, once word got out that they would take orphans, villagers started to bring them in.

Now they have upwards of 20 full grown and babies and have even started careful breeding of this endangered animal. To help pay for the enormous costs of feeding these 3-400 pounders, they allow tourists to come and visit--and even touch. This takes place in a small canyon that is mostly shaded for the tigers' benefit.

Well, as you can imagine, it was number one priority for me when Fred and I came to visit my brother last summer. For a little extra, you can have your picture taken with a tiger head in your lap. (Seriously? Can you imagine saying "that's too much money. I'll just pass"? It's once in a lifetime!)

I got my picture taken with several tigers, feeling their thick coats and holding their enormous heads. Then we moved over to the cub area, where things are less controlled. Lots of pictures there, too. There's also a swimming area for the tigers--who love the water.

A note for some of you who are getting jealous (as you should): they take volunteers! You can come and work with, feed, and groom the tigers. What an experience that would be. From what I've read of volunteer experiences there, it's fabulous.

Why can people do this without ending up as a tiger dinner? Well, first of all, tigers are nocturnal, so when people are visiting them, they're sleepy and hot. Second, they are well fed--mostly chicken with added nutrients for health. Finally, they've been raised from cubs by the monks and so are very used to people. Just like at Harnas, they don't see humans as food--instead they see them as providers of food.

And so my list of Big Wild Cats that I've been able to touch has grown to one more: lions, leopards, cheetahs, caracals, and now tigers. But there are so many more--and so little time.

Beaches and Dog Days

2010-04-07T18:51:00.000-07:00

Two topics today. First, we went diving yesterday at a place called Koh Nangyuan ("koh" means island). I got lots of pictures from ground level, but to appreciate this island, you need to see it from the air, so I'm including a picture I got from the web. It's three small islands joined by white sandbars. I came here ten years ago when I first visited Thailand, and it was nearly deserted. I was the only one walking on that sandy beach.

Ah, development. Now there's a resort there (although it is tastefully done as huts on the hills), and tourist boats show up all day with curious onlookers. Fortunately, most of them aren't divers, so it wasn't crowded underwater.

It is beautiful, though, and the diving is spectacular. At one point the water temperature was 90--that's 32 for those of you using celsius. Warm and colorful. One weird little fish, black and blue and about 2 inches long, followed me and kept nibbling on my leg. It hurt a bit, more like an annoying tickle. I kept trying to chase it away, but it was persistent. Later, the dive master told me it was a "cleaner" fish, and that I must have an open wound. Sure enough, it was eating the skin around an abrasion I had just below my knee. Very weird. On the second dive I wore a lycra suit to keep that bugger away.

Glorious diving, but it was time to come back to the resort. Always sad to surface on the last dive and then surface in the real world. Thankfully, I don't have to do that for another month or so.

Back at the resort, we had dinner, surrounded by our favorite eating companions: the beach dogs. On every island in the world, there are beach dogs, all who look like relatives to each other. Here on Koh Samui, it's no different, except that in this Buddhist culture, people treat them relatively well--respect for all life.

The one in the picture is our current favorite, a puppy we've named Rufus. (Of course, after naming this dog, we found out it was a girl.) Anyway, she sits on my lap before the meal and lies under our table during. What a cutie pie. We often have many other dogs around us as well. When the servers ask if we want them gone, we let it be known vehemently that we love animals. We feed animals. We encourage their attention.

If I could I take Rufus (and all of them) home. What a surprise.

Gulf of Thailand

2010-04-05T06:19:00.000-07:00

Okay, I didn't see this Great White Shark today, but I wanted to get your attention. Did it work?

We're staying at this amazing resort on Koh Samui. Randall got these cool villas (two! one for each of us!) because he knows the right people here in Thailand. The bedroom is inside and air conditioned, but the rest of the villa is a private garden. Yes, that means my shower is outside. I just walk out into the garden and turn it on. Don't worry: there are high walls. Our rooms are just a few steps from the pool and the white sandy beach. It's just so beautiful.

Randall and I went on our first two dives today. The boat ride was long--2 1/2 hours each way--but I love boats, so I enjoyed the whole day. We went to a place called Sail Rock, a big huge rock in the shape of a sailboat out in the middle of the ocean.

All around the rock there is coral. And FISH. So many fish!

Schools and schools of colorful fish of different sizes and shapes. Diving among them was like being in a fish tornado. I'd just hold out my arms and float and they would swim in and around my body. I kept hoping that they'd sit on my hands and shoulders, but then I remembered: fish don't "sit." They hover. So I had to be satisfied with them hovering over my hands and shoulders.

One funny thing: on the second dive, I could hear a "sssss" through the whole thing, so I knew I had a little leak and my air would go more quickly than my brother's (a point of pride for divers to have extra air at the end--since panicky divers and inexperienced divers tend to use up their air quickly). Anyway, when Randall signaled how much he had toward the end, and I signaled my air back, he looked at me quizzically and so I tried to explain. First, I used charades to try to act out "a leak." No understanding there. Then I tried to spell L E A K on my hand. He just looked at me, puzzled.

He understood the "L" though, because he made the sign for "loser" on his forehead. No, I wasn't calling me a loser. So I tried to spell out the four letters with my body. "L"--stand up strait and to the side, let my fins stick out for the bottom of the "L." Then "E"--fins out, two separate arms making the top two lines. By the time I got to "A"--arms over my head in a triangle--Randall was losing a lot of air because he was laughing so much. Then I tried the "K" and got a big ol' cramp in my right hamstring and had to grab my right fin and pull it toward me to stretch out the muscle.

I don't know what letter he thought this move was, but by then we were both laughing so hard that neither of us had much air left. Communication under water is difficult after the universal signs of "shark, eel, turtle, low air, go up" and so on.

It's hot and humid, as expected, but under the water it's perfect. Today Randall showed me his dive computer which lists the water temperature: an unbelievable 88 degrees. I can't remember ever diving when I didn't get cold at all. This is MY kind of water.

And along with all this, good Thai food. What more could I ask for? Okay, maybe a cheetah.

Big Brother

2010-04-03T02:38:00.000-07:00

For those of you who aren't watching world events, you might not realize that massive protests are going on here in Bangkok--by the party called the Red Shirts, who want the Prime Minister ousted. They're Buddhist, though, so the protests are relatively peaceful. Disruptive--because they block traffic--but peaceful. At least so far.

On Friday while I was having lunch with my brother Randall at the embassy, the leaders of the Red Shirts (along with an estimated 3000 followers) came to the embassy and handed an official letter to the representatives of the U.S. government. I was there and got to see it all. (One of the leaders even shook my hand as she left. I think she thought I was much more important than I am.) As you can see in the photo, my brother took me by the hand, made me stand in front of the guards and protesters--all chanting in Thai their political slogans--and took my picture.

Because he is my Big Brother, I did it.

You shouldn't be surprised that I'd do something Randall tells me to do, even though my inclination is NOT to tick off the thousands of people who might think I'm mocking them and their beliefs. Randall has always gotten me to do things my better sense said not to. It's his gift.

Way back when I was four years old and had so many chicken pox on me that I looked hideous, he talked me into playing the monster in a neighborhood play he was putting on while my mother left me in his care. I hunched under a card table and growled. While it probably wasn't good for my fever, it was a worthy performance, I'm sure. The reviews were good.

I also remember holding up one end of a pole (who had the other?) in the blazing heat while he practiced high jumping over it. I once offered my Barbie doll for a firecracker experiments. She ended up scorched.

He refuses to let me be too "girly" and slack off. Once on the island of Dominica, we hiked what I consider the World's Hardest 9-hour Hike--through the Valley of Desolation to the Boiling Lake (no joke). After five or six hours, I refused to go any farther, threw myself spread eagle on a flat rock, and began crying--praying for a rogue helicopter to snatch me up into the sky. He didn't pamper me. As a matter of fact, he walked about 20 yards away and took my picture. Pitiful me--but after some water and food, he did convince me to finish the hike. Otherwise, my bones would still be there.

In short, it's hard to say no to my charismatic older brother. But to be fair, he also convinced me to get certified in scuba diving--a skill that has opened up whole new worlds for me and has given me so much peace in that space where the only sound I hear is bubbles. He's taken me to places on this Earth that I would never have gone without his protection and encouragement--Karachi, Pakistan, for one. It's a place I'm glad I saw but am even more glad I don't have to go back.

Once he even took me to the house where Edgar Allan Poe grew up, a neighborhood that is now probably one of the worst in Baltimore. (I swear people were smoking crack on the front steps of the house and selling babies near the gutter.) But I felt completely safe being there because my Big Brother was watching out for me.

Without him, I'd be less than I am. So if I have to pose in front of a few rioters once in a while, it's worth it. I know he's always got my back.

Giant Lizards in Downtown Bangkok

2010-04-02T04:01:00.000-07:00

From Africa to Asia. Here I am!

I arrived after three flights totaling about 22 hours (counting layovers) - Windhoek to Johannesburg, to Doha (Qatar), and then to Bangkok. My brother Randall picked me up and we came here to his high-rise apartment in downtown.

Culture shock, anyone? Traffic, people, NOISE, and no critters in my bed! (I do admit that I was worried about this last thing, so in the Jo-Burg airport I bought a stuffed cheetah. It helps.) Add a little jetlag, and I was a mess for a day. I just slept and tried to think.

And oh yes, it's HUMID here. I mean WET. I mean walk down the street and have sweat drip down your body and onto the sidewalk. Quite a change from the dry heat of the Kalahari.

I'm all right now, though. I've had lots of sleep, good Thai food, and my first (of many) Thai massage (one hour head and shoulders - less than $ 10. Yes, be jealous. Be VERY jealous.) My brother and I are here in the city for a couple of days, and then we leave Sunday through Friday in Koh Samui, an island in the Gulf of Thailand, for some scuba diving and chilling and eating and more massages.

Today we had lunch at the US embassy where he's James Bond (or Jack Bauer--choose your reference). Afterwards, I walked over to the huge park that is near both the embassy and his apartment. It's called Lumpini Park and is truly beautiful. Winding paths, beautiful lagoons, people doing some kind of Thai dancing / martial arts, and LIZARDS. Monitor lizards, to be exact. Some as small as two feet long and some as long as eight. They live in the lagoons there - eat fruit and fish, not people - but look like something from a sci fi movie from the 60s.

I love them. They crawl right up on the grass next to people and bask in the sun. Children play around them. Americans (like me) take many many pictures of them. Most Thais ignore them. It's as if a group of harmless alligators decided to take up residence in Central Park. Very weird. And very cool.

I told you I'd find wildlife. Even in the Big City.

Final entry from Harnas

2010-03-28T23:20:00.000-07:00

At first when I decided to do this blog, it was going to be about Harnas only, and when I left for my other two adventures, I would quit. Several people have suggested to me that I continue to write, though, so I think I'll do that.

If you want to hear about Harnas only, you can stop reading after this entry, but if you want to hear more of Barbara's World Tour 2010, read on. I'm heading to Thailand from here to be with my brother for 3 weeks. We'll be scuba diving and jungle trekking. We'll see sharks and other fish, elephants, monitor lizards, snakes, tigers, and monkeys--so the animal tales will continue. Everywhere I go, I seem to find animals. It's my Karma.

After that, I head to Borneo for 23 days. That's the place for orangutans, monkeys, dwarf elephants, bushbabies, crocodiles, and many many beautiful birds. I'll be jungle and river trekking into a place I've never seen but have always been curious about. My friend Amy, from Winston-Salem, NC--will be joining me for part of that, and I imagine we'll experience things people might be interested in.

I'm very sad to leave Harnas, even though three months is a relatively long time. The people are special to me, of course, but as always it's the animals that will tug on my heart. I've gotten used to spending part of each day lying around with cheetahs, playing with baboons, and talking to lions. And that's just the beginning of the animals I'll miss. My shadow Pickles--what a sweetie.

As a special treat on Saturday night, Frikkie took me and Annika out to hear the lions roar. One of the biggest and most vocal lions is Macho--father of twelve and very proud of it. He and Frikkie had a real conversation, and I recorded it. Listen carefully: Frikkie is telling Macho to "tell this American that you're angry she is leaving." Macho complies. But then Frikkie also points out that Macho is just pretending to be angry: you can tell by looking at his paw, which is tucked under him the way house cats do. Macho is a good actor.

Hope you enjoy the last Harnas video. I'll talk to you next from Bangkok. --Barbara

Zion and Trust

2010-03-27T02:08:00.000-07:00

When I was a volunteer here in Feb of 2007, the first lions I ever got to touch, walk, and fall in love with were a pair of brothers named Zion and Trust. I'll never forget that first time riding in the back of a truck with the year-old lions, bouncing around on the dirt roads, the lions stepping on my toes and pushing their heads into my face.

And Trust was the first lion ever to jump me, grabbing me around my waist with his huge paws and sliding down my legs with his teeth gently biting just hard enough to leave a bruise but not break the skin. You never forget your first lion "attack."

Now they're about 4 years old, out in an enclosure away from the farm, massive in size with nearly-full manes. And last night I got to spend a little time with them.

There's a young artist here named Annika Funke (see picture)--painter, poet, photographer--who is not only extremely talented but has a heart that animals respond to intensely. Last year when she was visiting, she literally fell in love with Trust and Zion (but especially Trust) and spent many nights sleeping outside their enclosure, painting, drawing, and more. Trust would slip his huge paw under the gate and the two would hold "hands" while they slept. A connection is between them that is hard to describe, but I got to see it a little last night.

Around 4:30 yesterday afternoon I saw Marieta and her granddaughter Nica in the golf cart going somewhere. I asked if I could go along (always fun). Then we picked up Annika at the gate. We visited the vervet monkey enclosure to inspect some work going on there, and then I tentatively asked Marieta, "Can we go visit Zion and Trust?"

Off we zoomed, both Annika and I with bright expectant eyes and smiles on our faces. Once we were there, Annika pushed it further, "Can we stay for awhile?" Marieta nodded and took off with Nica, leaving us outside the gate with the two lions pushing and rubbing and trying to get to us, but not to hurt us.

Zion and Trust tolerated me just fine. I got to pet them through the fence while they rubbed their magnificent heads into my hands. But Annika! I know I'm a writer and should be able to describe what happened, but I think it's beyond words. Trust immediately recognized her from last year, practically bent in the fence trying to reach her hand and kisses. Then he lay down next to the fence and they pressed up against each other--all the while "talking" to each other in this magical language lions have.

After a couple of hours, the sun began to set in one of the most colorful and dazzling sunsets I've seen as we began our walk back to the farm. Then all the lions on Harnas began their nightly roaring to each other, marking their territories by signaling to all the other lions where each is. Roaring came from every side and we just had to stand there in the orange and pink light and listen and listen and listen.

I thought about trying to tape it, but it's impossible to record the sound because you not only hear it, you FEEL it in your chest. It's deep and rumbling and like a physical force that enters your heart. Instead I'll include a short clip of Zion and Trust with Marieta, Frikkie, and me in January just so you can see how massive they are--and loving.

It's magical moments like this that fill my memories of Harnas. The things you don't plan for--they just happen, and when they're over I say, "No matter what happens in my life, I'll always have that."

Animal Orphanage

2010-03-26T02:53:00.000-07:00

I've talked a lot about the lions, cheetahs, and other more exciting animals here at Harnas, but there are baby animals everywhere--of every kind. Harnas is recognized as one of the few official orphanages for animals, and Marieta has certainly earned that recognition.

At any given time, there are babies of many species. Right now we have two baby lambs--Lily and Lambert. That's me in the picture (on a rainy day) feeding Lambert a bottle. His umbilical cord is still attached to him, but it's hard to see. The other one, Lily, struggled for a few days. She got milk in her lungs, and in a heroic move, Frikkie put Lily's whole face in his mouth and sucked everything out of her lungs. Not pretty, but it did the trick, and now Lily is improving. Animals come first--despite what some people might describe as a gross-out action.

We've also got some baby chicks, baby cows and horses, baby springboks--and many other antelope-type animals like kudu, eland, oryx, baby mongooses (so cute, but with razor teeth), crocodiles, and baby warthogs. I'll include a video of those last creatures--one of the weirdest but most interesting animals around--I think George Lucas looked at warthogs before he created the famous bar scene in Star Wars. And finally, of course, baby baboons. I'll include one picture of playtime in Barbara's clothes hamper--with diaper on and pacifier attached.

It's hard to find an ugly baby animal. I think they've evolved this way to make sure that their mothers say, "Ohhhh! How cute! I think I'll dedicate my life to taking care of you!" Makes sense to me.

Mother of the Year

2010-03-24T23:51:00.000-07:00

I know it's not Mother's Day yet, but I've already chosen the Mother of the Year here at Harnas. The lioness named Simba and her mate Macho (probably the largest male on the farm right now) are the proud parents of not one, not two, but THREE litters of FOUR cubs each in the past two years.

That's TWELVE for those math-challenged people. Clearly, it's happy marriage between Simba and Macho.

It also helps that it only takes 110 days from conception to birth for a lion. Like house cats, they can breed quickly and often. Most of the time at Harnas, cubs are removed from the mother when they're born because the male sometimes kills them to bring the mother back into heat. With lions so endangered, that's a tragedy that needs to be avoided.

The four male lions known as The Brothers were the first litter, but as I wrote once before, one of them died. They're less than two years old.

Then came the litter of four siblings we call The Babies--a sure misnomer these days. The litter has two males and two females.

Then came the litter of four that Martha, seen above, came from--I think 2 males and 2 females again. Only Martha is tame (and that's not exactly accurate either, since she's what you would call a moody girl. Yesterday she tried to eat my head, but she only got a fistful of my hair.).

The other three cubs are still with Simba, and visitors get to see them every day on the morning feeding tour. Macho is always waiting at the fence for his morning meat, so Etosha, the guide, feeds him first to keep him busy while he feeds the mom and cubs.

The mother and youngsters usually aren't waiting at the fence, so Etosha calls them. It's a wonderful sight to see Simba moving toward us through the grass with her three cubs scampering after her, jumping on each other, and wrestling their way to the fence.

The three are getting big now--not the size of their mother yet, but certainly twice as big as when I first got here at the beginning of January. They're still kids, though, and love to play with each other and their mother. Simba is a great mother. She lets them "attack" her and even steal her food. Their welfare is her first priority.

And for those of you who are worried about this fertile mama, she has an implant now to keep her from getting pregnant again. Macho seems to have accepted the babies for now and hasn't hurt them. We keep a close eye on them, though, because the behavior of males--even the father of the cubs--is unpredictable.

So here's a clip of Simba and the kiddies enjoying their meal. Notice the cub who steals his mother's food at the end and prances away with his prize. (It's half a donkey head, for those who are wondering. That's nature.) They maybe bigger now, but they're still adorable. Wouldn't you love one in your house or back yard?

Baboon Lullaby

2010-03-22T11:46:00.001-07:00

Every night at around 8:30 or 9:00, I go to Marieta's house and help her with the final bottle feeding and diapering of the four baby baboons. The two oldest, Coco and Jessie, are a piece of cake. They're used to it, can't wait for their bottle, and tolerate the diapering nicely. So I do those first.

Then come the two newest arrivals, Bobbie and Annie. They're still quite wild and don't like to be held too much. They resist--and I mean RESIST--diapering. Once the diapers are on, they're fine, but the process is quite strenuous, to say the least.

Some basic information--for those of you who don't normally diaper baboons as a part of your daily life: First you must create a hole through the diaper for the tail. (I used to use scissors, but Marieta called me a rookie, so now I bite a hole through the diaper with my teeth, Rambo-style, just like she does.) Then you must thread the tail through the hole, putting the diaper on BACKWARDS because otherwise the baboons will pull them off in record time. The fasteners must be behind them so they can't figure out how to take it off. Got it? Sounds easy, right?

Not so fast, my friend.

I decided this experience must be documented, especially since I don't have children and therefore haven't changed thousands of diapers in my life. Mom, are you watching? I am, I admit proudly, pretty good at baboon diapering.

At least some of the time.

Lately, Marieta and I have had to do Bobbie and Annie together. They scream. They fight. They act like we're tearing their hearts out. Usually one of us holds the arms and legs and the other works the diaper. But tonight, for the sake of art--and by art, I mean my blog--I decided to do it myself and have Marieta film me. Jo and Schalk were there as witnesses (actually, Jo was giving Marieta a pedicure) which turned out to be handy because I needed Schalk at a crucial time. As you'll see.

The first baby boon, Bobbie--who is usually the wildest--went like a breeze. It took only 58 seconds to put the diaper on from start to finish, according to my film. I was thinking World Record, Olympics, Baboon Hall of Fame.

And then came Annie.

Well, she was just a bit harder. But still, if you watch the time, it took less than 2 minutes--with an assist by Schalk. It only seems longer because of the screaming--Annie's, not mine. Not exactly ready for Professional Baboon Wrangling, but definitely in contention for the Amateur league. Don't believe me? Just try it yourself.

And no one got pooped on, peed on, or bitten. That's a winner in my book.

Volunteering

2010-03-21T04:26:00.000-07:00

By now some of you are wondering, "Hey, how can I get a piece of this action?" (The rest of you are muttering, "Hey, how crazy IS Barbara?")

Well, of course, you can always come to Harnas as a guest and stay in one of the bungalows. You'd get to take the feeding tours, see lots of wild animals, and even touch a few. But because of liability issues that always rear their ugly heads--even in Namibia--guests have limited contact with the wild animals. But for many people, that's okay. Petting a tame cheetah, playing with baby warthogs and jackals, maybe holding a baby baboon might be enough for you.

But if you want the real deal, getting dirty and involved, working harder than you've ever worked before and loving it--then you should consider becoming a volunteer.

Most of the volunteers are between 18-30, but Harnas also has special weeks set aside twice a year for "Mature" volunteers--the over-40 crowd. (Not to imply that the other volunteers are "immature.") They've also had sessions exclusively for couples who want to come together.

As a volunteer, you stay in a cabin with three other people, sleep on a cot, eat with the other volunteers, and work in groups to prepare food, feed animals, clean enclosures, take walks with animals, and do what is called "farm work"--which includes anything from picking up bones from the Wild Dog enclosures to raking weeds to putting up fences. You'll sweat and bleed and get great satisfaction for doing more physical work than you've probably done in a long time--if ever.

It's how I started at Harnas. I was definitely in the "mature" category, but back in 2007 there wasn't a special session for us Oldies. I just worked alongside the 20-somethings. Sure I had to go to bed earlier so that I could maintain my energy level, but it was worth every drop of sweat.

One of the things that a volunteer group did recently was empty, clean, and refill one of the big waterholes in a baboon enclosure. I watched these guys at work--and play (because, let's face it, it's hard not to stop work and play with baboons every once in a while--especially when they jump on you, swing from you, and generally drag you into their games).

They worked hard all day emptying the hole and scrubbing it out. The real fun began when they started filling it again. Baboons love water. They jump in it, swim in it, slide into it, drink from the hose, and act just like we all did when we were kids playing in the front yard sprinklers.

The sense of accomplishment the volunteers felt at the end of the day was palpable--something you don't feel after winning a video game, watching sports, or just hanging out, as so many people spend their time doing these days. This was old-fashioned work, and there was plenty of old-fashioned pride to go around when the deed was done. They all took pictures of their work. When was the last time that you felt so proud of something you had done that you wanted a picture to remember it? (Yeah, let's take a picture of that report for work. How about a photo of your tax forms all filled out?)

And the real sense of accomplishment came when they saw how the animals appreciate what they had done, such as the baboon in this clip enjoying a leisurely swim--and then a not-so leisurely run around the enclosure (where you can see all their "toys").

Volunteers can stay from 2 weeks to 3 months. But no matter how long they stay, they all say the same thing: Harnas changes them in good ways they never imagined.And with their good work, they help Harnas.

Teeth of a Lion

2010-03-19T00:35:00.001-07:00

Taking a lion walk is exceptional enough: walking through knee-high savanna grass in 95 degree heat, watching for snakes and other non-fun creatures, bumping up against lions as they run past you and jump on each other--and sometimes you. It's a wonderful way to spend a few hours in Africa.

And if you get Frikkie to lead the group, it's even more wonderful. He knows his way around. And he knows lions.

On Wednesday, I had not just one of this experiences, but two. In the morning, Frikkie took out the newest volunteers who had never been up close and personal with lions. We went with the four 14 month olds and the 6 month old, Martha. He told the vols the rules--don't run, don't scream, don't overhandle the lions--and we headed out. Some of the newbies looked nervous and stayed as far away as possible from the roaming lions.

Cornelia, Willi, and I were allowed to go along with the four volunteers. Frikkie probably had it all worked out before hand with the lions--I wouldn't put it past him--because 10 minutes into the walk, one of the babies decided to test me.

I was walking along with the sun to the right and back of me. I heard a slight rustle and looked left just in time to see my shadow--and a perfect silhouette of a lion flying through the air toward my back. I had just enough time to brace myself so I wouldn't fall down and look like weak prey. Instead the lion wrapped his paws around my arms and chest and put his teeth around my upper left arm.

I didn't scream. I didn't run. I didn't fall. I just stood there, reached around and smacked him in the face and said "nea, nea" (no, no) and pushed him off me--all 200 pounds of him. Frikkie laughed and pointed out that it was the right way to handle an attack. I think it was both good and frightening for the new vols. I'm glad it was me and not one of them for the first attack of the day.

I might add that a few minutes later, Martha jumped Cornelia--and she screamed, ran, and fell down. She laughs and claims that she was serving as a bad example to my good one--so the volunteers could see the difference.

So as you can see in the picture above, the teeth marks (in the perfect arch of the lion's mouth) didn't penetrate the skin--just left a bruise. That tells me it was all in fun. He could have snapped my arm off in one bite, but he was just having a good time. No real harm done. After the walk, I counted only three wounds that were bleeding--a good average when walking the 5 crazy youngsters.

After a few hours of this, we returned to the farm, unloaded the cats, and ate lunch. I fell asleep for about an hour and then got up for the second walk with the 3 bigger Brothers. I felt really tired for some reason, but I wouldn't miss this for anything.

This time we went with Frikkie, his son, and his new daughter-in-law (a very brave young woman who had never been to Harnas).

The Gentlemen Lions were well behaved--no jumping, no biting--just lots of head rubbing and body bumping. No blood. Lots of good pictures for the newlyweds.

Part way through each walk I offered the lions a drink from my water bottle, as did Cornelia. They're used to this because Frikkie often shares his water with them. I stuck the neck of the bottle into a mouth and poured. They lapped it up. And they stood in line for more. When there's a line-up of three big lions asking for water, it's not a good idea to say "no." So on both walks, Cornelia and I ran out of water before we barely got a sip. But it's okay because the lions were taken care of.

That night I felt sooooo tired. I couldn't believe it. Yes, the lion walks were exhausting, the temperature neared 100, I didn't have water--but it seemed worse than it should be. I know I'm old, but come on!!! Everything hurt and I could barely keep my eyes open through dinner.

The answer came a few hours after I went to bed: shivering, sweating, fever, and muscle aches. I have a virus. So I spent all day yesterday sleeping in bed, and today I feel weak but a bit better. With less than 2 weeks to go at Harnas, though, I hated losing a whole day to sickness.

The Heart of Darkness--REAL Darkness

2010-03-16T22:38:00.000-07:00

Forget about lions and leopards and snakes. Or even being chased by a lunatic giraffe (which she did again yesterday when Cornelia and I were out walking with 2 dogs. Schalk had to rescue us in his truck.)

One of the scariest experiences is going back to your bungalow on a dark night when you've forgotten your flashlight.

It happened to me once a couple of years ago when I was staying out in a far-away house. There was no moon. Do you know how dark it can be when the closest town in 1 1/2 away? You hear cliches like "can't see your hand in front of your face" or "black as pitch" but they're cliches for a reason: they're true.

I was returning from a night of merriment at Jo's house and headed across the grass, thinking it wasn't going to be difficult at all because I have a good sense of direction. Then everything seemed turned around and I was walking not on mown lawn but in high grass and tripping over stones. When I finally ran full into a large cross, I figured out I had wandered into the animal cemetery and was tripping over graves. I wandered for about 15 minutes before I was able to find the bridge leading to my house. I laugh now, but it's reaaaalllly scary not to know where you are when there could be any number of wild animals who know EXACTLY where you are.

A similar situation--but worse--happened to Willi the other night, who is seen above during one of his braver moments.

We were having a movie night at Jo's house (Julie and Julia with Meryl Streep) and after awhile Willi decided to go home, smoke a pipe, and relax rather than endure a chick flick that was in English (German is his first language). Like a good husband, he left his flashlight for his wife Cornelia. Then he left.

Almost two hours later I was in Marieta's house, feeding bottles to baboons, when Cornelia came rushing in. Willi wasn't at the house, wasn't with Schalk, wasn't with Frikkie. He was missing.

A search ensued with Schalk bringing out a spot light that could light up half of Africa. They searched and searched.

And there he was--knee-deep in the duck pond, confused, lost, and pretty mad at himself.

He had lost his way without any lights, wandered around for several hours. He hoped he wouldn't accidentally run into a snake, warthog, lion, leopard, giraffe, ostriche, or any number of creatures that would make his experience even worse. We were especially glad it was the duck pond and not the crocodile enclosure he fell into.

In the light of day, we all laughed and joked and looked at the beautiful surroundings that are Harnas and wondered how they could be scary. But at night, a different world emerges. If you want to know what it feels like, turn off all your lights, blindfold yourself, and then stand in a dark closet. Twirl around a few times. Try to identify which way is north.

All Babies Grow UP

2010-03-14T21:50:00.000-07:00

When I was last here, in December of 2008, there were four new little lion cubs that had been born in September of that year. That's me in the picture holding Brad (named after Brad Pitt--You can imagine how all the women wanted a picture hugging Brad).

But all babies grow up. Fortunately, Brad and his two brothers (one, unfortunately, died when his intestine was punctured by a bone he swallowed) have grown into sweet, gentlemanly lions who are called by all "The Brothers."

Since Willi and Cornelia have arrived, I've spent much more time with the Brothers since Willi loves them as much as I do--and it's always good to go into their enclosure with another person. (Even though they're very tame, if they decided to "play" by pouncing on me, being alone wouldn't be a good thing.)

So every day Willi and I go into the enclosure and give the Brothers some serious loving--hugging, petting, and even kissing them on the nose. I know some of you out there are saying, "Barb's finally lost it," but those who have been at Harnas know what an amazing thing it is to be close to a giant carnivore, especially ones as serene and dignified as these boys.

Eventually--when they get sexually mature--male lions pretty much become unapproachable. They kick and roar and generally get all crazed when humans come into their territory (like in one of my earliest blogs about Sher Kahn). But right now I love to take advantage of the sweetness of these wonderful lions. It's a memory I'll take with me forever.

And now a word from our sponsor: The book I've written on Marieta and Harnas, SOUL OF A LION, is already on Amazon.com--as a preorder. When I received word of this from National Geographic, I went to the website and found it. I can't tell you how thrilled and proud I felt to be officially part of the Harnas family. Since I'm donating half my profits back to Marieta, I can feel good about saying I hope the book sells a million copies. This place deserves to be noticed and supported. Think:Christmas Gifts!

New Arrivals

2010-03-13T21:37:00.000-08:00

We got some new baby baboons the other day. A farmer near the Botswana border caught the pair (two females) in a trap, called Harnas for help rather than shooting them, and then Frikkie and Sissel went to pick them up.

They're very young--smaller by far than Coco and Jessie. As you can see in the picture, one even still has a pink face--which they only have when they're babies. Then it turns black.

Pretty wild still. We've only had them one day, so they haven't got used to humans holding them and feeding them with bottles.

The big news is that, for the first time, Marieta suggested that we name them after ME. That's right, people out there, there are now TWO animals on Harnas named after Yours Truly.

At first I resisted because "Barbara" isn't exactly a cute name for a baboon, but then I remembered that my grandfather on my father's side used to call me Bobbie. I always liked that and kind of wished other people would use that nickname, but that just didn't work out. So the one with the pink face is named Bobbie. (It's also cute because the Afrikaans name for baboon is "bobbejaan"--pronounced "Bob-ee-yon"--so it's a bobbejaan named Bobbie.)

I told Marieta that she should choose the other name but she said she was exhausted from naming animals and that I should name the second one to kind of match the first. So in a total fit of egocentric behavior, I used my middle name, Anne. (No Beach Boys jokes, please.) So the second one, with the blacker face, is named Annie.

So far they act a lot like me--they're totally uncivilized, scream a lot, refuse to do what others want, and bite when they get mad. But Marieta and I are going to work with them a lot today and get them used to our touch. Tonight she and I will each take two of the four babies for sleeping. I'm so glad that Marieta trusts me enough to let me help.

What fun to work with baby animals! By 8:00 yesterday morning, I had already been peed and pooped on twice! Classic Harnas.