day 270 (where the wild things are)

When we awoke, the humble water bottles that had been placed in our bed the night before remained warm at our feet.  Although it was still dark outside, a man's voice came from outside of our tent, cheerily saying, good morning.  We were expecting him and said, good morning, in return.  The man was one of the camp's staff and a member of the local Maasai community, which was evident by the red cloth blanket that he had tied around his shoulders, a distinctive and favorite mode of dress for the Maasai people.  He had come to wake us and give us our tray of morning coffee and biscuits.  Aman greeted him at the front of our tent, and took the tray from him gladly.

We had thirty minutes to get ready before the gentleman would be back to escort us to the mess hall.  (Given the early hour, we could not walk outside by ourselves.  For safety reasons, there were night watchmen with shotguns that accompanied us from tent to mess hall, and vice versa, after sundown and before sunrise.  Just in case... )  Our thirty minutes were gone in a flash but, when we heard him again saying, good morning, outside of our tent, signaling that it was time, we were good to go.  As we stepped out of our tent, dawn was breaking in the distance and the horizon was turning vibrant shades of red, rose-pink, orange and gold.  A light rain was tapering off, but it must have been raining for some time, because the ground was thoroughly soaked and softened by the rain.  Off we trudged.

A few minutes later, we entered the mess hall, which was still dim in the early dawn hour. There, we found Roelof, Richard and another guest, Jonathan, sitting at the dining table. We joined them for a bite to eat and to discuss the morning's agenda.  The walking safari that we had decided upon the night before would be scrapped, due to the weather. Roelof explained that, if the weather improved, then we could do the walking safari in the afternoon.  In the meantime, we would all jump in the safari vehicle and go for a game drive that morning.

Before we had time to contemplate our disappointment that the walking safari had been postponed, Christine entered.  The lions killed a zebra, she told Roelof.  A potentially rare sighting, it was time to move.  We dropped our forks, piled in one of the vehicles and took off, passing topi, zebras, impala and other wildlife as we drove along the rut-roads of the open grassland.  Thankfully, the kill had taken place nearby and it did not take long before we were upon the scene.  Also in our favor, the kill took place in the open grassland and had not been dragged off to the brush (a common enough practice that lions use to protect their hard-won prizes from other animals -- vultures, jackals, hawks), which gave us incredible, uninterrupted views of three full-grown male lions and one lioness ripping apart their kill.  Like these:

Incredible, right?  We sat there in silence and watched for a long, long time.  The only audible noise was the sound of teeth scraping and bones breaking as the lions pulled and twisted the carcass from all directions.  Savage, perhaps.  But more so, beautifully fascinating to witness such a phenomenal event.  Topi and zebra stood in the distance, like us, watching intently.  Jackals encircled the feeding lions, waiting for an opportunity to grab a scrap or two.  Eventually, the male lions had had their fill and simply walked away, abandoning the remains.

Where you going, big guy?

Not inclined to leave anything behind for the jackals standing by, the female lion carried the carcass away all by herself.  (Not an easy task, judging by how heavily she was panting when she was done and collapsed beneath the shade of a meager tree.)

A jackal snatched a hunk of meat that fell during the carry, but walked away pretty fast when a hawk also expressed interest in the scrap.

Reinforcing the truism that nothing goes to waste in the wild, all that was left behind at the site of the kill was the hairy tip of the zebra's tail.

Amazing.  We spent the rest of the morning drive observing elephants, which may, at first brush, sound relatively boring in comparison to the feeding behavior of big cats, but it was anything but.  I had never seen an African elephant before and was astonished at how much larger they were as compared to their Indian counterparts.  We loved how the full-grown females made the spindly trees of the barren region look like practical toothpicks.

Back at camp for brunch, our group filled everyone in on what we had seen that morning. It was amazing, we explained matter-of-factly while trying to suppress our excitement and ear-to-ear grins.  The weather had improved, and the sun was out.  We were sitting at the same red-and-white checkered-cloth table under the same tree in the same clearing off the mess hall where we had eaten lunch the day before.  In the distance, we saw zebras crossing the grassland.

Later in the afternoon, we met in the mess hall for our walking safari.  Including Roelof and Christine (our guides), there were nine of us, which Roelef said was the largest group that he had ever taken out on a walkabout.  Before we left, we went over some basic safety reminders:  no talking in loud voices, no wandering off, keep in a straight line, listen for instructions, do whatever Roelof tells you to do, and for God's sake, don't run if approached by a lion...

Setting out was awesome.  We encountered (from a safe distance) some wildebeest (who took off like the wind when they saw us) and daringly made our way between two breeding herds of elephants (i.e., super protective families of elephants that include young, which no one in their right mind would suggest to approach).  We studied flora and learned how termites are indirectly responsible for the existence of several burrowing animals that live in the region (yay, termites).  Above all else, it was very special simply to be in the environment of "the wild," which we remembered every time we stepped over a different pile of dung.  Eventually, the inclement weather threatened to set in (again). So Roelof made a call over the walkie-talkie, telling our pick-up driver where to meet us. When we got to the rendezvous spot, we had a great round of snacks and sundowners.

Our amazing and beautiful guide Christine (one of the first Maasai women to attend and graduate from the local guiding school, a huge accomplishment):

Over one shoulder, a storm loomed.  Over the other, with wildlife frolicking on the horizon, it was possibly the best sunset that we have EVER seen in our lives:

After a rousing dinner in the dining room that night, recounting stories with newfound friends about the day's events, as well as travels and life in general, Aman and I were escorted back to our luxurious tent.  We fell asleep that night to the far-off sounds of various wildlife -- lions roaring, elephants snapping tree branches -- and hot water bottles at our feet.  Wow...