Ten minutes after we’re met by our driver, he pulls the jeep over to show us a mother and baby elephant feasting on an acacia tree. Already, Lucas is teaching us more than we came to learn. He tells us the acacia tree being devoured is transmitting warning signals through the air to other trees in the area. Those trees will change their flavor to something the elephants won’t like. Mom and baby may have gotten this tree, but others will be saved by the timely transmitting of telepathic information (or should I call it aeropathic information?). Even the vegetarian prey is savvy here in Kenya.

“The elephant’s digestive system is very poor. Look at their dung, almost no nutrients are retained,” Lucas says.

I didn’t expect to be studying elephant poop when we boarded our first safari jumper plane at Nairobi’s Wilson Airport. Later, we’ll see a family of mongoose feeding on dung beetles and the partially digested elephant’s food as Lucas predicted.

Nearby, another type of acacia tree full of small globes that look like fruit rests untouched by the elephants who devour hundreds of pounds of food a day resulting in only a morsel of nutrient absorbed. We assume the long thorns keep them away. Lucas tells us differently.

“It’s the ants. The balls that look like fruit are ant’s nests” he says.

Not very big, but very bad, the ants sting hungry animals as they approach their tree of nests. These ants and some acacia trees have a symbiotic relationship with both parties getting something out of the pairing except, the elephants, whose side we normally take, but for some reason, we’re starting to root for the underdog and unsung hero. Without the acacia trees, the ecosystem would collapse and the elephants would die off. A delicate balance that requires small ants to help preserve it.

Lucas demonstrates how to take photos at ground level by leaning over the side of the jeep with our arms outstretched and snapping the picture below the area of focus. I finally realize why my new Sony camera has a flip-up LCD screen. I try it out on a family of Egyptian Geese.

For the next two weeks, I practice this technique and complain when we are given a closed vehicle that is ‘safer’ but doesn’t allow for this type of photography. They relent and exchange it for an open-air vehicle once they realize Lucas has spoiled us for all others. Before I get to those stories, Lucas has more to teach us. When driving through the village of Talek on the outskirts of the Maasai Mara, Lucas points to three large birds that look like sea posts.

“That’s the Marabou Stork. It’s one of the Ugly Five,” he says.

Whoa. We hadn’t heard of the Ugly Five. Tell us more. Unofficially, or somewhat officially, in certain tourist circles, the Ugly Five are comprised of five species: hyena, warthog, wildebeest, vulture, and marabou stork. I take some issue with the warthog and wildebeest being on this list. Warthogs remind me of our dog, Leo, the way they run with straight legs and their tail up in the air like they are about to tattle on someone. Wildebeest look like sad sacks at first, but after seeing them in various light, their coats offer complex shades of black, gray and cream. The strands of black fur running down the top of their sides serve as a stationary vertical pattern for their black mane to move across the top creating a striking visual of moving vs stationary lines. When the sun is on the horizon, their blonde goatee allows light to shine through it creating a luminescent effect. Most people disagree with me about the wildebeest.

Some animals transcend the terms “Big” and “Ugly” by simply being fabulous. We added this new category for our favorites selecting the cheetah for its playfulness, the ostrich for its pink neck and pink legs (the pinker the color, the more females will be attracted to the male), the lilac breasted roller for its colorful wings, the hippo because it’s a hippo and the crane for its precision mohawk. Here is our Fab Five in all their glory.

We may have gotten carried away with our lists of animals when we created a list for the “Cute Five”. Full of personality, our choices for this category are Gazelle, Dik-dik, Baboon, Klipspringer, and Jackal. Choosing an omnivore for the cute list took a bit of back and forth. The jackal made the list for its relationship to the dog and its face had more interest than the nearest contender, the superb starling (and it was easier to photograph than the flighty bird).

 

Back to the Big Five. I described how the Big Five list came about and which animals are on it in one of my first blogs. In our second sighting of a Big Five member, we ogled over lions mating. Videos of that voyeur experience are posted in this blog. We spent hours observing a pride of lions and their cubs practicing a chase against wildebeest, zebras, and gazelles. As depicted in the Lion King by Simba’s early years, cubs don’t take any of this seriously, they play before during, and after the hunt. I captured their play in a video posted to this blog.

Even though we checked off all five of the big game hunter’s list in the Serengeti, we took better photos of the rhino in the Ngorongoro Crater and of the lions and elephants in Naboisho Mara Conservancey. Here’s our line-up for the big list: elephants in Naboisho, a lion in Naboisho, a male leopard in the Serengeti, a lone buffalo in the Serengeti, and a black rhino and calf in Ngorongoro Crater.

As mentioned, the rhino pictures were taken in Ngorongoro Crater at a great distance. That’s not where the most interesting sighting occurred for which I didn’t get pictures. The tale of “The Great Rhino Jeep Chase” is worth sharing in hopes of something being learned or at least having a good laugh. Here’s that story.

Photographers, in search of the perfect rhino photo, are as competitive as big game hunters from yesteryear. At least that’s what it felt like in the heat of the pursuit. It’s about 7am on an October morning.  For the past hour, we’ve been in search of one of the forty horned beasts that live in the park bundled in our Maasai warrior blankets, buffs, and layers of jackets. The yellow jeep next to us has experienced hunters, I mean photographers, who carry huge telephoto lenses signaling how seriously they take this sport. These experts see him first. Their guide says something in Swahili to our guide. Guides speak in Swahili to one another so that tourists don’t get their hopes up from something one guide said to another. On this morning, we know what the guides are saying from the look of blood in the hunters’ eyes. Peering through the binoculars, Dave and our guide see the black rhino on the hillside between the palm trees by the zebras, next to the group of wildebeests, near the third gazelle from the right.  I’m slow when it comes to things like this. “Where is it?” I ask at least three times. Dave tries to tell me, but his directions are confusing to me. Did I mention it’s 7am in the morning? Our guide (it’s not Lucas) loses himself in the moment, uncovers his camera with the long telephoto lens from under the bags on the seat next to him and snaps a picture. I notice this, of course, since I am the only one not seeing the animal, and I didn’t know he was packing equipment. Dave points between two bushes. “There, THERE!,” he says. I finally see the phantom creature for about 3, or maybe 5, seconds before it goes behind another bush. The hunt is on. Reminiscent of the great OJ car chase in southern California, every jeep within a mile descends on the location of the last rhino sighting. The frenzied procession gets stalled in front of a narrow, steep, and extremely rutted crossing (requires 4-wheel drive) which leads to an area of the park that is off limits. No one cares about boundaries when chasing after a rhino. We make our way to the illegal crossing. We’re third in line to enter forbidden territory. Then, an irritating thing happens. Several of the other vehicles cut in front of us. We end up sixth in line to cross. I say something like “What the fuck?”  The other tourists hear me, but say nothing about the rightness or wrongness of the situation (I’m pretty sure “fuck” is understood by most non-English speakers). Up to this point, our guide has been argumentative and arrogant with me  – ever since I asked for an open-air vehicle to take photos the way Lucas showed me. Now, in front of his peers, our antagonistic guide decides to be “nice” and let the others go first. We never see the rhino again. We go back to the lodge, only one of us took a photo, the guide. I decide to make him squirm. I tell him the title of my next blog will be, “When it comes to spotting a rhino, it’s every man for himself.” He’s smart and understands my sarcasm. I take photos of the vehicles who cut in front of us with the intention of sending them to Asilia, the company these aggressive guides work for. I never do. Later, we will get photos of a rhino in the Ngorongoro Crater. We’ll only care about this chaotic scene for its absurdity value. I tell you, for the 3 or 5 seconds I saw it, that rhino was hauling ass. All the other animals were moving out of its way. Jeeps from all around tried to close in on it. I should have filmed the surrounding mayhem and forgotten about trying to snap pictures of the rhino.

On another day, also in the Serengeti, we watched a pair of leopards at various times of the day who may decide to mate. At the time of our meeting, theirs was a relationship still in the courting phase, sharing a meal, an occasional sleepover from afar, and a fight or two that left her with a gash on her backside. If she decides that he’s the one, they’ll have the same mating pattern as the lion, i.e., 3 days, 24 hours a day, every 10 to 15 minutes. The female is featured below hiding in the grass from the jeep squad that has just infiltrated the area. It’s safari protocol for the guides to radio each other when they spot an animal of interest. Hence the mob scene in the middle of her lair.

On that same day in the Serengeti, we learn that lone, male buffaloes are cantankerous and dangerous. Perhaps they’re bitter from being kicked out of their group, or maybe they spend too much time on their own and no longer care for the sight of others. When encountered in the wrong moment, a lone male buffalo will flash from awareness to fight in a second without advance warning. Unlike lions and elephants who play by gentlemen’s rules, the lone male buffalo believes all is fair in love and war. The one on the right gave us a run for the money. First, he gave us a stare that looked like contempt.  “He” is the one on the right looking like he wants to see our Driver’s License.

Then, Mr. Mean turned and started to amble away as you’ll see in the video. In a moment he changed his mind – or, he was faking us out all along. He turned back towards us and charged the vehicle. Up until then, I had my doubts that the prehistoric-looking soldier is one of the most dangerous beasts. Rest assured, you can believe the hype.

Did you notice anyone missing? Giraffe didn’t make any of our lists! Like family, they have a special place in our hearts as the silent observers of the savannah. This curious baby with its mother is only about a week old.

And, a couple more just because we can’t stop ourselves and giraffes can’t take a bad picture.

As the sunsets around safari lodges, they have a practice called “Having a Sundowner” which is the equivalent of Happy Hour. To close out this article, here are a few choice spots to have a Sundowner. While I’m thinking of it, a few other phrases that will help you after the Sundowner:

• “I need to pick some flowers” is the female version of “I have to pee”
• “Time to check the tires” is the male version of the same

Small things change the world. This phrase was repeated throughout “The Wider Earth”, a play we saw two days ago at London’s Natural History Museum. Staged in a purpose-built theater, the play showcases some of Darwin’s lesser known discoveries near Tierra del Fuego, South America. The small, seemingly insignificant observations Darwin made formed the basis for his theories on the evolution of species and the geological events that created mountains and other massive formations. Each time I heard the actors say “small things change the world”, I thought about the termites of the Maasai Mara and Serengeti whose work it is to churn and enrich the soil for vegetation making it possible for large herbivores to feast on the bounty, and aardvarks to feed and create homes for the many small creatures needing shelter. I remembered the stories Lucas told us about stinging ants saving acacia trees on our first safari drive. He taught us how to see the signs of small things happening beneath the surface creating an entire ecosystem of life. On this trip that we took to see the Big Five, we saw much more than the majesties of the kingdom. We saw the fabulous, the cute, and even the ugly – appreciating them for their beauty and for the important role they play in the circle of life (borrowing a line from the Lion King which we also saw while in London). We left Eastern Africa with it seeming more familiar than it should, having made friends along the way that we’re sure to see again. We arrive home knowing how small things make a difference. This fills us with the hope that maybe our small projects too can make a difference in the kids lives we touch with our songs, dance, and arts. We hope they remember us for our smiles and our hearts, the way we will remember them.

Speaking of small projects, next up: The Maasai – their way of life and our kids day camp for Maasai children in Lemugur Village, Tanzania.

 

 

 

Our lives are in danger every time we step out of our tent past 6pm without an Askari, Maasai lion tamer, to escort us. The unassuming protector wears a red checked blanket for warmth draped across his shoulder like an avant-garde fashion statement. The thin spear or knife he carries seems less of an actual weapon than a tourist prop. I think he’s here to keep us calm rather than kill any elephants, buffaloes, lions or hippos that may charge us on our way to the wifi tent.  They say the thin canvas barrier of our tent wall is enough to deter even the most ravenous of lions from attempting to snatch us from our sleep. What about hyenas? We believe them because we came this far and we want to get a good night’s rest before the 5:15am wake-up call which includes coffee, tea, biscuits and hot milk brought to our tent. We don’t have much time to think about dying in Africa. They keep us busy with jeep rides, eating, more jeep rides, more eating and the same all over again in the afternoon. Why did we come? We want a memorable way to spend this anniversary/birthday season. The Great Migration and accompanying River Crossing seem more memorable than our go-to celebration of pizza, beer and watching an old episode of Suits (unless it’s the one where Mike saves the Firm. Oh wait, that’s the premise for all episodes).

Like the meandering Mara River where herds from the Serengeti cross when migrating north for greener grass, the wildebeest go back and forth, around and back until they eventually make the crossing. Or, not as it were. Professional videos of the wildebeest migration show the mammals clamoring through deep water to reach the other side of a treacherous river as if the antelope know exactly where they want to go and are willing to risk life and limb to get there. That’s not really how it works. The truth is that there is less to the story than National Geographic shows in a film it took them three years to make. “Wildebeest are confused. Who knows when they’ll cross,” the guides who watch them hourly say. Don’t get me wrong, we enjoyed the heck out of our twelve-hour jeep rides over bumpy, dusty roads, with the thorny acacia trees threatening to slap us across the face should we lean too far towards the edge of our open-air safari vehicle. Camps that move in unison with the migrating herd led me to wonder if there might be more to it than we’re seeing. Maybe, National Geographic has it right and I’m the one not seeing reality.

It’s October and the grasslands of Tanzania have been eaten down first by the zebras whose digestive system is strong enough to handle the dry tough grass removing it to encourage new growth for the wildebeest to gobble up in their wake. Many or most migration viewers want to see a river crossing because it’s almost a sure kill. The first thing a fellow tourist asks as we shuffle ourselves into safari jumper planes is “Did you see a crossing?” and the second question they ask is “Did you see a kill?” After bumping our heads a few times on the way to our seats we answer, “Yes, we saw three crossings: a wildebeest herd, six zebras, and a family of elephants.” I’m not sure that last one counts. We didn’t see a ‘kill’, but we saw wildebeest and zebras afraid for their lives as they made attempt after attempt to cross a river dividing them and their friends and family. One day in Kenya’s Maasai Mara, we parked along the riverbank with about forty other jeeps to witness the spectacle that never happened. Retrofitted Toyota trucks with pop-up roofs lined both sides of the river on both sides of the road waiting for the fated crossing. Six times the wildebeest trotted down to the shore of the river, some of them getting wet. Six times they ran back up to safety along the bank where the grass was plenty green and plentiful. There was no need to cross. It could wait another day. Having forty jeeps in their path could have affected their decision as much as the dead wildebeest on our side of the river and the crocodiles downstream from there. Probably after the last jeep went home for the night, they all crossed.

Then we saw one. On the other side of the border, in Tanzania’s Serengeti along that same Mara River, we experienced our first wildebeest crossing. It was spectacular. Like fireworks going off. By then, the crossing mattered a great deal to us because we saw the aborted attempts. We knew what was at stake for the animals, life or death. We watched with awe and excitement as they jumped like teeter-totters through the croc infested water, determined to make it all the way to the other side.

When they got to our side of the river, the bank was too steep to jump up. Many struggled to get up the cliff, their front hooves pedaling to find footing only to slip and slide back down towards that same river that gave them pause in the beginning. Luckily, they found an alternate path and made their way to safety. This, while another set of wildebeest lined up in front of us waiting to cross in the opposite direction. Why? They are a confused lot. By this time, crocs on both sides of the crossing heard the ruckus and came in for a kill. They were too late. Slowly, they turned around heading back to relax until the next splash in the water.

Since we claim to have seen three crossings, we noticed a distinctive difference between the species. Elephants don’t give a flip about the crocodiles they can squash like a bug with their huge legs. Zebras are skittish and our guides hope they will not be the first ones down the bank because they know the zebras will abort and alarm the wildebeest. Unless, of course, they are crossing a safe creek.

That brings us to the wildebeest. Absent of any leadership, they simply follow whomever makes the first move. Since their numbers are around 1.7m, they must be doing something right. It only takes one to get things started.

When we saw the six zebras making a go at crossing Number 8 (there are about twelve crossings in the Serengeti), we honestly thought the days of the last zebra, who seemed to be sightseeing, were numbered. We all three held our breaths hoping for the best. To our collective surprise, all six made it safely to the other side with crocs not far away. Dave says the zebras picked the best place to cross. It was a shallow, wide area of the river where the assailants couldn’t use the element of surprise to attack. Their speed on land would pale in comparison to the zebras. Turns out, Dave thinks like a crocodile. Crocodiles live full happy lives in the Mara river feasting in the spring and fall. Sometimes they kill more than they need storing it for later or letting it rot as a sign of their superiority.

The Great Migration could be considered to be more mythological than actual. We watched from the deck of our tent cabin with hardwood floors and sliding glass doors (is that really a tent?) as a herd walked across the ridge to the right, then circled back and parked at the base of our deck for a few minutes before heading out to the left. Later. we saw them turn around and head back. Just another day in The Great Wildebeest Meander.

Herds and herds of zebras made it to the Maasai Mara by the time we got there. Thousands of zebras in any one location is a shocking display of black and white patterns more brilliant than anything designed by Gucci or Vera Wang. Zebras are fast to react and don’t hold any one position for very long. They grace the landscape with striped poses only so long before the entire picture changes as we got too close or they changed their minds, and they show us their plump butts displaying a braided tail pattern more stunning than designs coming out of New York (or Paris or …).

Topis’ unusual black fur that follows their thigh muscle on an otherwise reddish-brown coat makes them a distinctive composition.  They stand proud and strong on the many termite mounds that are so critical for the ecosystem. Aardvarks eat the termites which give them the fuel they need to dig holes. The only digger in the system, their holes make homes for all kinds of followers like mongoose, warthogs, foxes, rabbits and I forget what else. I love the stance Topis take on top of the mounds. They are facing away from the wind. With their backside facing into the wind, they can smell a predator coming from that direction. To protect themselves from hunters coming from the opposite direction, they keep watch by facing that which they cannot smell.

While we’re a little homesick for the pups and our Wednesday nights in front of the TV eating Round Table pizza and drinking Blue Moon, we’re glad we “risked our lives” and came to see the great meander. We’re grateful for the Askaris who kept us safe through the night. All joking aside, these brave soldiers have amazing eyesight. They flash their lights quickly from side to side along the path, in a moment they see a black buffalo at a distance blending into the night while we chat about the day’s events without a care in the world. The night watchmen, they quietly observe as a pride of lions saunters through camp making sure we don’t do something stupid creating a reason to be charged. I’m told the secret for avoiding an unfortunate encounter is to remain calm and, with an elephant, slowly hide behind a tree. Maybe TV show lawyers have more in common with Askaris than first meets the eye. Mike from Suits walking in at the last minute with a manilla folder full of blank paper that he says provides the damning evidence exudes confidence and bluff. Askaris may not bluff (or do they?) but you can be sure they exude confidence. Remaining calm and collected during adversarial moments seems like good advice for life in general. And, if that doesn’t work, hide behind something.

Giraffes may have nothing to do with the great meander. The thing is, ever since I kissed one, I can’t keep my mind off of him, I mean them. So, here are a few pictures of my tall and serene playmates enjoying their view from above the great meander.

Next up: The Big, the Bad, and the Ugly,

We happened upon another pride not related to the Rekero Brothers or the Minoka Ladies. Altogether four prides rule the more than forty lions of Naboisho Conservancy. The cubs played in the grass while the moms rested without any males around. A herd of wildebeest and zebras grazed not far from the pride. Our Maasai guide didn’t think the lions would hunt since the herd knew of their presence. When the prey knows a predator is in the vicinity, they face them rather than start a chase they might not win, Predators rely on the element of surprise to catch their meal, making the sudden turn of attention an effective deterrent.

After watching them for a few minutes, one of the lionesses started a maneuver the others in her pride followed except the cute lazy one. How did she communicate her intentions as she headed in the direction of the herd?

 

As the lead lioness made her way to the other side of her group of prey, the zebras, a nervous animal anyway, became more agitated than usual. The wildebeest reacted.  Mayhem ensued. Cameras and bodies were jostled around in the jeep as we frontline photographers attempted to capture the chase on ‘tape’. The head lioness herded the group of mixed prey towards her waiting followers. Her cubs continued to play in the midst of the spectacle. The zebras whinnied to each other from across the herd. “Will we ever see each other again?” I imagined them saying.

 

The kill was not meant to be or maybe it was simply a practice drill. The cubs ran to play with mom once the dust settled. The zebras walked away with a watchful eye towards the lion as the lion turned towards us with a look of “I wasn’t really trying.”

Later, we found a gazelle that hadn’t faired so well at the claws of a cheetah, the feline’s stomach so full of dinner she let some lucky jackal (and, later probably a hyena) have the remains.

On another day, in another area of the preserve, a serene giraffe keeps his/her eyes on a roaming lion. Rather than run, giraffes use a look that says “I’m watching you”.

Life in the wooded grassland is a zero-sum game with triumph for some at the defeat of others. A cheetah, a jackal and probably a hyena ate well that night. The lions didn’t. I left with a whole new respect for the predator. They have to lose a few battles before they win one.

The story of Naboisho Camp’s lions begins long before this Spring when these mating videos were taken. Camp Naboisho’s managers, Andrea and Richard, told us the story of the great lioness, Dada, while we listened with rapt attention to a first-hand account of the tumultuous lion kingdom in Kenya’s Naboisho Mara Conservancy. Camp Naboisho hosts eight luxury tent cabins in the middle of a wildlife refuge teeming with lions, elephants, cheetahs, and the proverbial zebra, wildebeest, giraffes, gazelles, impalas and more.

 

Back to lion tales. After kicking out her daughters when they reached a certain age, Dada and her granddaughters ruled the lion population around camp for years. There had been many a scuffle between Dada, the thirteen-year-old grand mistress of Naboisho, and the five Minoka ladies, but none so fierce as the decisive battle we learned about.

First, some background. A few years before the decisive battle, a family of four handsome male lions named the Rekero Brothers came to the area. Grandsons of Great Notch, the strongest, fiercest lion ever to be known in Naboisho, the Rekero brothers take after their grandfather. To stake their claim, Notch’s grandsons killed off all of the cubs in Dada’s pride. They started to mate with Dada’s granddaughters. In their frenzy to take no prisoners, the Rekero Brothers mistakenly killed a few of their own cubs. The lion population was in disarray when the envious Minoka ladies saw an opportunity to take over the pride, Dada’s granddaughters too young to fight.

Richard and Andrea point to locations by various tent cabins (ours wasn’t one of them) where the five lionesses took down Dada in four separate attacks. The final blow broke Dada’s back as she crawled away to die, her granddaughters fleeing the area never to be seen in camp again.

Nowadays, the Rekero Brothers and the Minoka ladies rule the land around Camp Naboisho, mating at will with no concern for safety as these videos demonstrate. Lions mate for 3 or more days in a row, twenty-four hours a day, every ten to fifteen minutes. Yes, you read it right. That’s about TWO HUNDRED EIGHTY-EIGHT times without eating or stopping for so much as a sneeze. If the lioness happens to mate with one of the brothers during this time, it’s okay because it’s all in the family. So, after probably too much background here is a video of the largest Rekero brother mating with the more masculine looking of the Minoka females.

Second time around ten minutes later.

In between mating sessions, they walk around then flop on the ground and rest, then walk around some more.

A word to the wise,  a mating male lion can get a little testy if you follow him around too much and distract his woman. This Rekero boy sure told us off.

To lighten things and make sure you don’t think I’m a total pervert (I really was just along for the ride and happened to have my camera ready), here are some fun videos cubs and cheetahs at play.

 

Next up – I’m not sure, there are so many more topics!!! Maybe the great migration? Or, lions hunting? We saw the elusive black rhino today – what a crazy experience that chase scene was. The title of that blog will be “When it comes to rhino hunting, it’s every person for herself”.