South Luangwa

 Post 4

Each trip to Africa was combining hard work, great fellowship and heartbreaking sorrow for those we just couldn’t save. I would return each year to find an old friend, now gone. Many were far too young, gone much too soon.

But I’ll come back to those stories later. Each trip also offered some  R & R.  A well deserved break and it usually involved a game park, sightseeing or adventure. Or maybe a combination of all. This trip offered a treat that until today, still goes unmatched. I was headed to South Luangwa National Park. Getting to South Luangwa isn’t easy and hence, it isn’t overly touristy or crowded. In order to get to South Luangwa in Mambwe, Zambia, you first need to fly into Mfuwe, the closest international airport. We boarded a small prop plane. several rows of seats, 2 on each side. The plane looked new on the outside. But inside, pieces of the seats were torn and panels in the ceiling were cracked, or worse, missing, and I wondered what I had gotten myself into. Doc and El assured me that this would be an experience I would not want to miss and they hadn’t let me down yet, so despite the interior condition of the plane, I sat back, anxiously awaiting our arrival. The flight was VERY bumpy. I’m an experienced traveler but this flight scared me a bit. Visibility was poor and the plane looked like it had seen better days. I was seated in the first row and the door to the cockpit was open the entire flight so I had a first hand view of the dark clouds that we were headed into. Occassional breaks in the clouds revealed that we were not far above the heavy vegetation in the mountain tops. We landed safely, in heavy rains.

A driver from Mfuwe met us at the airport and transported us to the lodge.

The lodge was nothing short of amazing. There was an open air lobby that elephants are said to visit (and walk through on occasion).

 

Private two and three bedroom chalets surround a lagoon that is full of water lilies. It's a favorite spot for hippo and elephant!

A guide showed us to our chalet and gave us the run down. Meals were at the main lodge. Game drives left early morning, before sunrise and evening drives left before sundown. A guide would come and retrieve us in the morning to walk to the lodge. You were not allowed to leave the chalets and walk without a guide before sunrise or after sundown, as animals including lion and leopard had free roam. This was the wild. No fences.

We took our first game drive of the trip that evening. Game vehicles were open top and sat very low to the ground, unlike the high trucks, with covered tops, I had been in on other safaris. We were taken on the drive by our guide, Peter, a well known guide in the area, easily identified by the feathers in his hat. Peter would be assigned to us for the duration of our stay. It would be only the 3 of us on our drives. Perfect! On night drives, a guard would accompany the safari guide and he would sit in the front seat with the driver. The guard was armed. It was the first safari I had been on at night and a first with an armed guard but I soon found out it was with good reason. We pulled under a tree. Peter told us to sit very still and be quiet. And look up. There, on the branch above our heads, was a leopard! To this day, it was one of the most amazing sightings, beautiful, intriguing and slightly frightening.

Following the evening drives and after very late evening meals, long after sundown, with the black African skies, a ranger was assigned to accompany us back to the chalet. I assumed this would be an armed ranger. How else would he protect us from the lions? But he was armed with only a flashlight. I wasn’t convinced a flashlight would do much good but he assured me he would shine it in the animal’s eyes, and they should retreat. I was not at all convinced or reassured. Visions of the leopard were fresh in my mind.

The next morning, we awoke early for our morning game drive. The African sun is so hot and the animals are typically most active during the cooler morning and early evening hours. As hot as the African sun gets, the nights can be equally cold. We bundled up for the morning drive in the open top jeep. The driver brought blankets and hot coffee as well.

We drove through open fields and saw large herds of elephants and warthog.

Then we took a turn, headed over an embankment and down along the river. We passed large Nile crocodiles, basking in the sun.

We continued across the sand and Peter stopped the vehicle, just in front of an elevation of tall grass. “Sit very still,” he said. And then I saw it. There was movement in the grass. And through the grass, you could see a pride of lions, lying by the riverbed. And behind a lioness, the tiny heads of the cubs. We sat and watched them for what seemed like an eternity.

Another jeep was approaching but sat back waiting for us to leave in order to get a closer look.  Peter threw the jeep in reverse to allow the other vehicle the opportunity. But when the next jeep tried to advance, his wheels spun in the mud. He was stuck. Peter jumped   out and help give a push but all I could think of was the fact that there were lions, less than 100 foot away.

Peter helped the other driver get his vehicle moving and we moved on.












We passed herds of zebra and impala, saw waterbuck, kudu and buffalo. And giraffe.

We pulled up to a small watering hole where 3 young giraffe were getting a drink. Even their longs necks can’t reach the ground without awkward positioning of their long skinny legs. They move so effortlessly and are so beautiful to watch move but quite funny to watch bend down for a drink. The giraffe almost seemed to want to entertain us, pulling water into their mouth and then spitting into the air.

They also began the playful activity of “necking”. They swing their long necks and swat one another in the neck. And they stood necks twisted, almost as if to pose.

We would return to the lodge for lunch and a rest. But soon enough, it was time to head out again. We left in the afternoon, still suitable for viewing game. We would stay out past sunset and drive into the night, hoping to see nocturnal activity. This particular afternoon was one to remember. The best part about South Luwanga, aside from the healthy large populations of animals and the few and far between tourists, is that unlike many more commercialized game preserves, the drivers at Mfuwe aren’t restricted only to the dirt road. Peter was never afraid to make his own tracks, in fact he did it all the time. While some may say this is dangerous, I never felt like I was in eminent danger. Yes, sometimes being so close to dangerous predators was scary but it was also so exhilarating that I always got lost in the excitement. Peter was driving the dirt paths in the afternoon sun when he slowed down and said, “Look up in the sky. Those are vultures circling and where vultures circle, a fresh kill is nearby.” Peter began to turn the vehicle around when he saw another jeep in the distance. Not wanting to be followed, he backed into the high grass and waited for the vehicle to pass. We were on the hunt for a kill and Peter wanted to give us a private viewing.

Peter followed the direction of the vultures and suddenly, there it was! Two females lions had taken down an impala and were feeding on their fresh kill. We pulled up close. Peter told us to sit still. The lions don’t make out individuals. They see the vehicle and those inside as one large object and unless we made sudden movements or loud noises, it was likely to stay that way. One lion briefly stopped feeding, looked up, walked around her kill and feeling unthreatened, got right back to the job at hand and finished her meal.

As the night sky took over, a whole new world of animals came to life. The hippos leave the river and make their way onto land.

The vast fields became filled with only bright eyes, hundreds of eyes sparkling in the night.

We found another young leopard, crouched low in the grass, stalking his prey. Suddenly, he took off but this time, the impala was too quick and his hunt was unsuccessful.

Peter showed off his extensive bush skills on the drive back to the lodge, as he told us about a bird called the nightjar. From the reflection of the headlight, you could see the bird flittering around the vehicle. Peter reached out and grabbed the bird in his bare hands, holding the bird as he talked about the creature. It was nothing shy of amazing.

We had one more morning drive before heading back to Lusaka. On the way out, something seemed a bit strange. We seemed hurried. We weren’t spotting many animals. I’d been on enough game drives to know that when guides start to teach you about different grass and tree varieties, there isn’t much game nearby. I was disappointed. Frustrated. I wanted more lions, zebras, monkey, anything. Then we turned through some trees to an opening and there was the surprise. This was why we weren’t seeing animals. Peter had arranged for a full breakfast in the bush. Soon, several other vehicles arrived. Staff from the lodge had been out setting up the fires, setting a table. We had eggs and bacon, toast and jam, cooked over a fire out in the open bush. Complete with formal table setting that would make even Martha Stewart proud. It was such an amazing treat!

There was sill time for more game viewing.

Mfuwe lodge and South Luangwa National Park were unforgettable and a favorite place I would return to again and again. But for now, my little adventure had come to an end and it was back to Lusaka, back to the States and back to reality.

Teach by Example

Post 3

As a child, I remember my parents saying to me, “Clean your plate. There are starving children in the world.” But I didn’t know any starving children. And although I know the point they were trying to make, it really was never going to provide any real impact to a middle class American kid. But Africa was teaching me lessons on every visit.

It was 2004. I was preparing for my third trip to Africa. I was invited to speak at the surgical society meeting again. But this trip was going to be different. My 13 year old son desperately wanted to join me. It would be a once in a lifetime opportunity. I would have to changes my plans a bit. Speak at the meeting, then maybe forgo the bush and take him on a mini vacation to Victoria Falls. Now that sounded like a great idea. Educational, yet fun. Not too far out of the comforts of home. Little did I realize that he would be bitten by the same bug and return again years later.

I encouraged him to bring his Discman and Gameboy console and some cds and games. I took plenty of batteries. My thought was that it is a long flight. 7 hours to London, a 12 hour layover and another 11 hours to Zambia and I thought it would give him something to do on the plane. Maybe the best idea ever. And not for the reasons I thought.

 When we arrived in Lusaka, we prepared to leave with Doc and his wife for the surgical conference. I asked my son to be patient. “When the conference is over, we’ll go to Victoria Falls.” His response was far from what I expected. Matt said, “I don’t want to go to the Falls. I want to go to the bush. I want to see how they live. I want to school with the kids.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Luampa was no place for a teenage American kid. He would be bored to tears.  I tried to push the idea of the Falls….safaris, adventure. But he was having none of it. He wanted to go to Luampa. Without electricity, without running water.

But before we could head to Luampa, I had a conference to speak at. The Surgical Society of Zambia’s annual meeting in combination with the Association of Surgeons of East Africa. The meeting was being held at the Ibis Gardens Conference Center in Chisamba, Zambia. North of Lusaka toward the copperbelt region on the country. I spoke at the meeting, again being treated like a VIP.

                       

Following the meeting we stopped at the Protea Hotel Safari Lodge for a quick lunch and an afternoon game drive. It was a beautiful little resort. We had lunch on the veranda while the tsessebe grazed along side the swimming pool. Tsessebe are one of the lesser known members of the antelope family, a type of hartebeest. They were so used to people, Matt followed them around like they were pets.

After lunch we jumped in an open air jeep and took a drive through the small preserve. It was fun. Small. Protected. No predators like lion or leopard. We drove through fields and saw species that were new to us. We saw eland, very large members of the antelope family. We saw warthog, impala, zebra. And a young elephant. There wasn’t a herd of elephant within the preserve but an orphaned baby elephant had been rescued and now called Protea’s little game preserve its home. Like the tsessebe, the baby elephant had grown accustomed to human contact. The young elephant approached the jeep and we sat and watched. The closer he moved and the more social he became, the more confidence we had that he was willing to play. The driver asked Matt if he wanted to get out of the jeep and climb on the elephant’s shoulders.

 The danger in finding so much ease and comfort with these animas is how quickly you forget that they truly are wild. And I was becoming ever more drawn to the wildlife in Africa.

And so the time in central Zambia had come to an end. We headed back to Lusaka for a few days before embarking on our trip out to the bush. We had traditional meals in the homes of Zambian friends. Matt attended school In Lusaka. It was a far cry from school in the States. Zambians put a high priority on education. Education, even primary school, isn’t free. There are school fees, mandatory uniforms and student must provide their own supplies. Education is a privilege. And Africans know, an education is a family’s only chance of getting ahead, breaking the cycle of severe poverty. Families will sacrifice everything just to put one child through school and he or she will become the hopes and dreams of the entire family. And the child takes school very seriously. I was proud of my son. He was experiencing a life that many American kids would never know. Of course, we learn about other cultures in school, but you never really appreciate or understand it until you experience it first hand.

It was time to leave for Luampa. We prepared for the very long drive through the western province.  We were crammed in the small vehicle, packed full of supplies for the village. Matt was tired and all but asleep in the backseat. We were approaching the town of Mumbwa and Doc blurted, “Matt, my boy, I think I see McDonald’s!” My son jumped up with excitement. And we pulled into the Wayside Cafe. It wasn’t exactly McDonald’s but at that point, for a 13 year old kid, it was close enough!

It was a much needed break. We got a cold Coke and French fries. A cold Coke never tasted so good. Matt and Doc played a game of pool on an old pool table under a thatched roof.

We jumped back in the vehicle and continued the very long drive. I was worried about Matt. What would he do in the bush? How would he stay occupied while I was at the hospital? I thought for sure this was a mistake. We arrived in Luampa and settled in for the evening. Matt and I shared a room with two very small beds and mosquito netting (which to this day, I never use…it makes me feel claustrophobic, though I always take malaria prophylaxis). Matt stared at the wall, seeing spiders everyway. I tried to tell him they were “friendly.” I told him when he was tired enough, he would fall asleep regardless of the bugs. But he was not happy. He walked into the living room, where Doc was sitting alone. His face collapsed in his hands, he bent forward and very dramatically said, “this is going to be the longest night of my whole life!” Doc laughed. He assured him that there would certainly be tougher times in life than a few little spiders. Matt just sat there quietly. And eventually, he came back to bed and fell sound asleep.

The next day, Matt was introduced to a boy named Gift. Gift was a small African boy about Matt’s age. And the two would become fast friends. I came home from the hospital to find Matt playing volleyball with his new African friends, with a make shift volleyball court consisting of the net, a few trees and bright red ball.

The kids were having a great time. Matt rode an old tractor. He met Mary. Mary and her husband had a motorbike. And so Matt kept more than occupied with his new friends in the village and I spent my days at the hospital, caring for patients,
many of whom would not survive. I also started working with Gift’s mother Harriet, at the nutrition clinic. The nutrition clinic was part of the orphanage. A makeshift village of tiny grass huts where orphaned infants would be taken care of by elderly family members and could receive formula. Pediatric hospital patients with malnutrition would also be referred to the nutrition clinical for nutritional support, counseling and weigh ins. African children with malnutrition typically have large, distended bellies. Their hair becomes almost blond. They call it blond baby syndrome. It is because the hair is depleted of any nutrients and is so brittle and dried out that even the color is gone. Many of the children had parasite infections. Parasites like schistosomiasis, a worm that infests the intestine and leads to liver failure. Schistosomiasis is second only to malaria in terms of parasitic infections that lead to death in sub-Saharan Africa. I fed babies and small children and recorded their nutritional intake and weights. But despite the efforts, it was obvious that many of these children would never survive. A harsh reality that you learn to accept but never quite reconcile in your head or your heart.

At the end of our week in Luampa, Matt asked me, “Mom, can I leave my Gameboy and Discman here?” I asked him why. He said, “they can get batteries.” I told him they cant get games or cds. He told me he would leave those behind as well. My heart swelled. I was so proud. He ‘got it’.

We boarded the plane and started the long trek home and it was at that point, I realized, no matter how much he loved it, no matter how much Matt ‘got it’, he was still a 13 year old American kid. On the plane, he said, “you will get me another Gameboy, right?” The point was he had given it up without asking. The offer to his new friend was genuine and whether or not he would get another wasn’t the point. Certainly, in time, I would get him another video game system. But I was proud nonetheless. Even more proud, a few months after our return. Summer break was over and school was starting again. Matt was finishing up little league football practice and the kids were all packing up, talking about the new, overpriced, highly trendy Hollister surf shop that was opening at the local mall. Matt looked up at his friends and said, “you guys have no idea how the rest of the world lives.” As a mother, I felt I had done my job well. I didn’t need to lecture about what others don’t have, or how lucky we are. Without the experience, it would have merely been words. The lesson was learned and would never be forgotten.