I manage a lodge in the Southern African bush and these are five things I love about my life.
1. The guests…that get it.
A.A. Gill wrote about Africa, ‘you either get it or you don’t’. As a safari camp manager my enjoyment of the bush is often tied to the guests. I could be reinvigorated by them and relive the excitement each time a guest came back awed after a game drive. There would be days when I was so exhausted and lethargic that I could barely stand to get up and greet more guests. But then they’d come with all their enthusiasm and wonder and I would live off that energy. I saw a young teenage girl fend off her fear of bugs by letting a beetle crawl on her hand, I saw a couple living out their last days and dreams together (he was suffering from ALS), I played a game of pool with a young boy recovering from a rare form of juvenile arthritis which had previously left him paralyzed and near death. He had such a gentle soul that I will always remember him. Then there was the German documentary film crew with a director that showed up in full German lederhosen and I ended up making my film debut. There was the American guest who whistled the Canadian anthem for me on Canada Day. While my entire job was to ensure an unforgettable experience for my guests, there are many that return the favour to me.
The guests….that don’t – Even in the bush there can be assholes. Luckily they are few and far between. But I will never forget the hugest, fakest lips that walked into camp and the face behind them. She was more interested in doing kick boxing exercises than safari; seriously she was punching the air while the guide was trying to tell her about the meerkats. She wanted a gym and complained about the heat, probably because she was melting. During her last meal we over heard her saying she was going to get her breasts down when she got home. On a spiritual journey, she was not. Then there was the guest that could not understand why we didn’t wash underwear (it’s a cultural tradition in Botswana and we explain that to guests.) In an effort to please her, but not offend my staff, I personally picked up his 'tighty whiteys’ as gingerly as I could and dealt with them myself. Cultural tradition or not, it was just gross and did I get thanks, of course not. There were grumpy old men, sullen teenagers, New York City princesses – they would complain about insects, the heat, the lack of electricity and internet leaving us exasperated and pondering ‘why did you leave home!?!?’ At least with safari there almost always never there for more than three days.
2. The wildlife
It’s what the bush is all about; it's why we are all there. The scenery is beautiful, but the creatures bring it to life, give it perspective and purpose. The animals, insects, reptiles, they are fascinating. They kept me learning every day in the most incredible and interesting class room. I am in the midst of something bigger than myself. Some of our younger guests were baffled as to how I could live in a place without all the modes of modern entertainment, but I would always reply that the bush scenery is the ultimate movie screen. I simply have the best office.
Sometimes they become pests. In the bush, every month, every change in season brings a new challenge to contend with. Let me run through a list. Christmas beetles, oddly they come and go in November, but they are EVERYWHERE – completely innocuous, completely exasperating. Along with the Christmas beetles, there were ‘the ants’. They came after it rained and they would swarm up your shoes and legs as you walked along the paths. It was impossible to avoid them. They gave a nasty little sting when they would spray you and they drove me insane at first. So, when you can’t beat something, you join it. Okay, I didn’t join them; I just started wearing long pants and long socks and tucked my socks into my pants because as the ants will still crawl up you this way they can't get to your skin. I don’t care how I looked; in the bush, necessity often trumps style. Then there are the mosquitoes of course sometimes so numerous they flew in my ears, in my nose, in my mouth. And, the honey badgers, who have a spray like skunks and would spray the mess tent, break wine glasses during a fight, knock over whole fridges, etc. And now that I will be moving on to work in the Delta, I will be contending with baboons that are not only destructive, but worse, clever.
3. Cultural Immersion
For me, living in a completely different culture is fascinating and calls into question my own. It is an opportunity to, maybe not harmonize the world, but harmonize my own existence. There is rarely a dull day if you take an interest in the things and people around you. It can also add a little hilarity to a stressful day in camp like when I was trying to ask one of the guides what he wanted to eat for breakfast in Setswana, but accidentally, I basically propositioned him. All the kitchen staff were in stitches and I had no idea what I was saying. The guide kept asking me to repeat myself, each time to more laughs. He finally translated and luckily I had been there long enough at this point that the staff knew I wasn't that bold or fluent enough and I was able to join in their laughter. One thing you need if you are going to try to learn a new language and culture is a sense of humour for when you inevitably get many things wrong.
And wrong I was, many times and my sense of humour did fail sometimes. The flip side is that being alone in a different culture, at times, made me feel lonely. There were days that the fact that I couldn't understand any of what was being said around me and no one could relate to me was, to say the least, difficult. I was the only white, English-first speaking, ex-patriot in camp for months and at times I felt trapped and isolated. I could accidentally, but so easily offend staff or they could just manipulating me to make me think I had offended them so they could get away with something. It was hard to know the right decisions to make at times and I had very few people to go to for help that would understand my perspective. I was incredibly vulnerable at and I longed for a girlfriend to bawl my eyes out to. Yet, the reason I was feeling so strained was/is because I want to stay. If it was too tough and I didn't care, I would just pack it in and return to Canada.
4. No shopping
There are no super malls, no strip malls, no corner stores in the bush. Choice stresses me. What to wear? What purse to carry? What moisturizer cream to use? What food to eat? The jam aisle in the grocery store, for whatever reason, epitomizes my exacerbation at all the excess. Honestly, there is double fruit, triple fruit, half sugar, no sugar, organic, non-organic, blends of every sort. Seriously, just give me a strawberry and marmalade and I'll be fine. I don't face this nearly as much in the bush. Camps have a store room with a few necessities, but if I need a new toothbrush, there is only one to pick from. Brilliant! Done! The menu is set, I ran through the same rotation of bush clothing, and wore the same shoes. The only major daily choices were which earrings to wear – and earrings I do love.
Okay, sometimes it's necessary. If you run out of something that wasn't provided in the limited store room, you might be stuck for a bit. Or, if you are particularly attached to a certain brand of specialized face cream (as I am) it is probably not available. Or when my shoelaces broke, which was a real matata (Setswana for ‘problem’) considering the lack of alternative suitable footwear. Often attempting to get someone else to get something for you from the outside and ship it into camp was more of a chore because you never knew if they were going to get it right. With the shoelaces I had no idea what length or width I needed. I just needed to do it myself having the shoes with me. There was also another occasion when after not having guests for a few days the regular supply of sweets was non-existent. I literally woke up out of my siesta nap with an insatiable craving for chocolate. That is when I really felt the lack of a corner store to just run off and fetch something. I just had to get over the craving.
5. Isolation
The surprising thing about many of us who work in the safari business where almost our entire job is to host guests is that we don't actually like people all that much. Well, at least not en masse. Luckily we only socialize with a select few at any one time and can often engage in meaningful discussion over meals because safari is so intense and intimate. We can't have the bush all to ourselves or we wouldn't be able to support it or ourselves. It's the trade off. And, we are still protected from the bigger, wider world with traffic jams, elbowing crowds, cell phone rings, flashing lights, billboards and skyscrapers. Cities and crowds and malls and highways frustrate, sadden and scare me, so I moved to the wilds of Africa where the only traffic might be a herd of elephant. Cities cause me to glaze over, but in the bush I feel alive. The kind of isolation amidst one of the world's last remaining paradises brings alive my imagination and brings clarity to my thoughts. It is serenity and excitement. I can be alone out there without feeling lonely, which ironically is often a feeling more common in the throng of a city.
While sometimes I find urban living to feel not human, there is a reason we crowd together. Not just for physical survival but to feed our emotional needs. Isolation meant I was alone and sometimes it was lonely. The beauty, the excitement, the wonder of the bush can only be preserved by keeping people out, yet, when I witness all that wonder, I naturally want to share it with others – not 6 billion others, but those close to me. And, most of the time, I can't. And, even if you are part of a couple, which I was for awhile, the demands and stress of the job often leave you too exhausted to gaze into the sunsets with each other. Life in the bush almost automatically eliminates having a family life. For three months you work straight with little contact with the outside world. You can't just call up a girl friend to have a chat, or get a hug from a family member. No matter how much I may want it, the bush can't love me back. It is why almost everybody ends up leaving the full time bush life for something more stable and connected on the outside. The bush presents the ultimate dilemma for those who love it – we can’t live without it, but can we live in it? I hope to find the balance because like I said – I love Africa for everything it throws at me.
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