Here--sort of

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.