They say that somewhere in Africa the elephants have a secret grave where they go to lie down, unburden their wrinkled gray bodies, and soar away, light spirits at the end.
– Robert McCammon
I haven’t written much lately, but a few happenings and some comments from old friends and colleagues have spurred me to blog today.
Let’s start with current events.
The Elephant in the Village
A few nights ago, about two blocks from my house, a 30-something year old man was trampled to death by a wild elephant. {Gulp.}. Here’s a picture of the area:
I live close to the national park, where there is a large resident herd of tembo (Swahili for elephants). Being wild animals, they don’t concern themselves with things such as park boundaries. In this case, they roam freely wherever the heck they feel like roaming. I’m told they can be viewed in the early morning and evening coming down from the Mount Meru area on their trail. I have never actually seen one, but I’ve seen piles of evidence on the road.
Early each morning, I used to run on the dirt road flanking the national park, wearing noise canceling headphones blasting Metallica, blissfully unaware of the dangers surrounding me. Anyway, my dear friend heard about this activity and freaked out. She shouted at me, “there are elephants that roam there! You are never to do that again! People are trampled by them”. Gulp. I heard her, loud and clear. I’ve never run there since.
I’ve also noticed gunshots in the evenings. My husband told me it was the park rangers trying to keep the elephants inside the park. I notice it most nights now. The guns are close: within half mile from here.
The difficult thing here is trying to figure out how to live in harmony with those majestic creatures and many, many others. They have as much right to be here as we humans do. Fortunately, elephants are protected, so the rangers don’t kill them, but it is harassment to be firing weapons in their direction. We need to find better ways to let those critters roam their ancient pathways without coming into lethal contact, whether for man or beast.
The Honey Bucket and the Bee
As some of you may remember, we had a snake in the house a while back. See post here: “Go Ahead . . . Snake My Day.” I continue to be terrified of them, though I rarely see one. As I walk through the fields near my house, I usually carry a big stick to make lots of noise so the slithey beasts can sense my presence well in advance of my arrival. I have terrible vision, so it wouldn’t be a stretch for me to step on one unawares. So I tread like a tembo every time, and I will not venture into the thick brush or near rock walls, as Larick says those are their preferred hangouts. We had rattlesnakes in my hometown growing up, so I’ve always been wary of rocks anyway.
Yesterday, nature called while I was gallivanting about in the field with Larick, so I had to use the outhouse, which consists of a pit toilet with a wood floor and corrugated metal walls on only two sides. It feels a little weird doing your business with open air on two sides, but hey, it’s got a killer view of Kilimanjaro!
Anyway, I really hate these toilets because it is not unheard of to find a snake, venomous or otherwise, coiled up on the floor or God forbid, inside the toilet pit. Gahhhh!! It makes my skin crawl just to get near it!
Anyway, I did my usual routine of making a racket approaching the outhouse, giving the corrugated metal a good smack with the stick before peering around to see if there was any unwelcome wildlife lurking inside.
It was empty. Phew.
So I waltzed in, hiked up my skirt, and assumed the position to pee. As I did, I saw movement around the entrance to the toilet pit below me.
Nah. Not a snake. Praise Jesus!
But it must’ve been a bee, because I felt a sharp pain on my hip. I leaped about 10 feet vertical and lurched out of the outhouse, frantically swatting at my skirt and generally freaking out.
Larickkkkk!!! Njoo kwa haraka! Nadhani nyuki amening’ata! (Come quickly! I think a bee has bitten me)!
To make a long, ridiculous story shorter, we are pretty sure a bee stung me.
I have never had an allergic reaction to a bee sting, but perhaps African bee venom is more potent. I woke up this morning with an Old El Paso hard taco shell-sized welt on my hip. Bright red, swollen, and painful.
I got to the hospital quickly, and the doctor pronounced my reaction to be “abnormal.” Given that we aren’t completely sure what got me and given that we don’t know what it had just been noshing on in the pit smorgasbord (😱😱😱!!!), he gave me topical and pill antihistamines along with an antibiotic. Sigh. I’m feeling better already, but I’m not at all excited to be on yet another round of antibiotics. I just hope it doesn’t worsen.
This reminds me of one of my favorite sayings:
What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.
At least it wasn’t a black mamba. Alas, I wouldn’t be blogging now if it had been. 😬. For an amusing story about black mambas, go here: Lost in Translation: Beware the Giant Black Mamba and the Honey Badger
Living the Dream
Often when folks find out that I uprooted and moved to Africa, they say, “wow! You’re living the Dream.”
Not really. I never had a dream to live in Africa, let alone travel here. But it made me think: what were my dreams? Years ago, my list included having a successful career, good health, plenty of income, good relationships, lots of travel (to non-African destinations), and a nice place to live.
Nothing about Mount Kilimanjaro or Africa. And nope, no dream to marry a Tanzanian dude. Yet here I am in a beautiful life, which suits me well despite the challenges one faces living 9,000 miles from her birthplace. Heck, we have witch doctors here, which is a little unnerving. For real. Larick makes sure we don’t leave any clothes hanging on the line at night for fear that someone might confíscate something and use it to put a curse on us. For real. Although we don’t believe in black magic or voodoo, why tempt fate and unwanted attention?
Anyway, Life has a funny way of steering you in the right direction if you just let it. You just need to recognize those opportunities and take them if/when you can. I know I’ve said it a million times, but you can’t expect the opportunities to come again tomorrow, nor can you even count on tomorrow.
Live your best and most fulfilling life today. And put my Africa on your list this year. For me, I want to be that wrinkled old gray elephant when my number is up, and I want to soar away like the elephants in the quote at the beginning of this blog. But I’m also gonna soar like a light spirit while I’m still a living, breathing honey badger on this earth.
– Badger OUT.
