Wild Dog Pups and Brown Hyenas: A Volunteer Adventure in South Africa

Oh goody! Another wonderful report to look forward to!

Very entertaining beginning with much telling detail. Look forward to the rest.

MDK, looking forward to more--and many photos too, I hope.

Great start and once you get through the mystery boarding in Johannesburg, the adventure begins.

MDK,

goody, an Earthwatch report. I've often wondered what the programs were like and have looked at the Tsavo lion project. Look forward to hearing about the brown hyenas.

Cheers,


Pol

MDK-

Ditto. Looking forward to hearing it all!

It is hard to explain to family and friends, isn't it?

I know what you mean about people questioning your desire to return to Africa, especially from people that return to Europe over and over again. We are off to Egypt (my husband's dream) in March and Kenya and Tanzania in 2011. We started going to Africa a lot later in life than you, so our motto is "do it now as you don't know what tomorrow will bring."

Great report and am anxious to hear all the details of your your Earthwatch experience.

Thanks, everybody! I hope I have time to get this trip report posted a bit faster than I've done in the past. I guess it would be a less time-consuming task if I didn't write my journals in longhand, but I still enjoy doing that.

Don't worry, Leely, many photos will eventually be posted. We are still editing.

Raelond, I think that's an excellent motto to have, no matter what your age. A dear friend of mine (who is the same age as I am) is fighting her third round of cancer... so none of us know how much time we have. You have to seize experiences whenever you get the chance! For us, this desire to travel means that we have to drive cheap cars and live with the same 20-year-old garage sale furniture, but that's fine with me.

Looking forward to your take on Madikwe.

Thanks for starting your report and looking forward to more and your pictures.

Thanks for the Earthwatch link.

Joyce

Enjoying your report, and looking forward to the rest of the trip, and of course the photos.

amy

You have the same attitude we do about travel: do it now. My husband's parents planned to travel after he retired, but by then he had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. Your trip sounds great. We are planning our second trip to Africa--this time to Botswana--in February. And as I recall, we made our first trip around the same time, in September 2007. Can't wait to hear about the rest of your trip.

Hi Kmania! Yes, I do remember we were heading off on our trips around the same time in 2007. From SFO too, if I'm not mistaken? Lucky you, going to Botswana! That's definitely on my dream list.

I went back to the Earthwatch website recently and noticed that they are still filling teams for the Brown Hyenas project in 2010, if anyone is so inclined. I was disappointed to see the price has gone up since we went, though. Still worth it for the experience, I think.

I'm hoping to post my next installment either tonight or tomorrow. (Sneak Preview: here's where the wild dogs come into the picture)

Correction: Since I do not know of a way to edit my last post, I want to add that I looked at Earthwatch again this morning to see what the 2010 expeditions are, and I was mistaken about the price going up. The Brown Hyenas project is $2950 for 12 days (all-inclusive except for international air) for the adult teams. I must have glanced at the teen team listing, which is more expensive.

PART 2: Beyond Our Wildest (Dog) Dreams

The flight from Johannesburg to Madikwe took just over an hour, whisking us over the city, then suburbs with enormous houses surrounded by high walls, and farmland with elaborate crop circles in green, gold and brown… and finally over open bush, past a high, jagged ridge that looked from the air like a deep wrinkle in gold-green cloth. As soon as we landed at the Madikwe airstrip, I promptly got my sleeve snagged by a thorn bush. I have a whole new respect for animals that can push their faces and bodies into these spiky bushes! Our land cruiser from Madikwe Safari Lodge was waiting, and as we climbed in we met A and M for the first time, a young couple who would be sharing the vehicle with us during our stay. Our positive first impression would turn out to be correct—the four of us very quickly became friends, and my misgivings about this whole southern African practice of sharing vehicles with strangers assigned by the lodge were laid to rest. On our trips to East Africa, we had traveled from place to place in our own vehicles with our own guides throughout the trip, so I didn’t know what to expect with having game drive companions and guides change at each destination. I imagine the experience can really vary depending on the luck of the draw… but we had a marvelous time with these two (we’ve stayed in touch since—we live half a world apart, but we’re hoping to visit each other someday). To make it even more fun, this was their first safari, so we got to share in their excitement about everything being new.

If you’ve read my other trip reports, you know that I like to keep track of our welcome animal and farewell animal for each journey. Our welcome animals for South Africa greeted us by running across the end of the airstrip just as we were stepping off the plane: a group of female kudu. My husband was really thrilled, because this was an animal high on his wish list and something we’d never seen before. We also saw a few giraffe heads poking out of the trees on the short drive up to the lodge.

Madikwe Safari Lodge is absolutely stunning, one of the most beautiful places we’ve ever stayed. To my mind, it’s made even more beautiful by its low profile: it is nestled into the hillside in such a way that you can’t really even see it as you approach, rather than sitting high on a hill and standing out in the landscape. The lodge architecture was supposedly inspired by termite mounds, and it’s easy to see that influence—the overall look is a hybrid of African and hobbit hole. Every wall seems to have a curve, the roof is broad sloped thatch, doors are decorated with carved figures in place of handles, there’s a huge clay fireplace in the open-sided dining room with birds flying in and out, and trees grow right up through the building. We were completely enchanted by this place at first sight. Then we saw our room and were ready to move in for good. It was an “anthill” cottage with a little fireplace and curvy built-in couch, a giant copper bathtub, and a private deck with a view of the bush, an outdoor shower, loungers, and a little plunge pool. Now, I have never been one to desire a plunge pool on safari. But I will admit I stuck my feet into its icy cold water, just because I could. If it weren’t the dead of winter, we probably would have taken a dip. Our ranger told us later that they used to regularly have elephants come drink out of the plunge pools (which, being the ele lover that I am, I would love to see), but that it was becoming unsafe for both elephants and guests, so they recently put up a fence to keep elephants out of the lodge. The fence was designed to be really low and porous, though—an obstacle to the elephants for sure, but not anything that would keep lions, leopards, wild dogs, porcupines, or other animal visitors out.

Lunch was served by the slightly stern chef, a big Afrikaner guy who cooked up fabulous impala kebabs (“venison” is impala here), beet salad and risotto. We overheard some other guests ask if he was German, and he sounded insulted, “Of course I am not German, I am Afrikaner!” And he was a marvelous cook, too. We were joined at the table by yellow-billed hornbills, glossy starlings, francolins, and a squirrel. After lunch we had just enough time to shower away 2 days’ worth of air travel weariness and unpack our bags, getting our daypack ready for our first game drive.

One thing about the whole South African lodge routine is that there is a LOT of eating. We’d hardly had lunch when 3:00 tea time rolled around. This was our first chance to meet our ranger, Greg Smith, and our other vehicle mates. In addition to our new buddies A and M, there were two couples from Joburg who were old safari hands. I still marvel a bit at the thought that they can come to a place like this for a weekend getaway, the same way we might go to Lake Tahoe or Yosemite.

Greg asked all of us what we were most interested in looking for on our game drives, and he lit up when we said we were dreaming of seeing wild dogs. “You’re in luck!” he exclaimed. “Right now one pack of dogs is denning, and they have six pups. They’ve moved the den several times and they aren’t always there, but this morning they’ve been spotted so we can go take a look.” Now, J and I had been thinking more in terms of “if we see even one wild dog, even if it’s really, really far away—and we can’t even get a picture of it—we’ll still be ecstatic.” That’s how much we love dogs, and how very much we wanted to see African wild dogs. So you can imagine my excitement at this news.

We all bounded into the land cruiser and headed off. The first animals we saw were zebras and impalas. The zebras here have different stripes than the Burchell’s in East Africa—instead of sharp black and white stripes, they’ve also got pale brown shadow stripes in between the broader striping on their rumps. Very pretty. We followed some waxbills down the road (discovering in the process that there were some intense birders in our vehicle), and then spotted a little steenbok resting under a tree. Then more impalas, mixed in with big, hearty-looking wildebeest and dark red warthogs colored by the orange dust. A big, calm male waterbuck with impressive horns eyed us, and a slender mongoose ran across the road. Not too bad for the first 5 minutes out of the lodge.

We had to wait a little bit before approaching the dogs’ den, because only one vehicle at a time is allowed to view it. When we arrived, several adorable little puppies were sitting by the entrance to the den, looking at us with frank curiosity. They were born in June, so just a few months old—big enough to be getting those fabulous markings on their legs, but small enough to still have the downy fur of babyhood. Before long all six of them had tumbled out into the open, emerging from patches of dried grass and the various holes into the den. It became a happy jumble of pups—chasing in circles, biting each other’s tails, wrestling, rolling, pouncing, sniffing. They reminded us so much of domestic puppies in their behavior, except for the near-silence with which they did these things. We could hear little snuffles and grunts, but no barking or yapping—they’re much quieter than domestic dogs. They explored all around our vehicle, and at one point a pup crossed right behind where I was sitting in the back seat and looked straight up at me, meeting me eye to eye. We’ve seen a lot of cute wildlife babies, but these guys really took the prize, with their giant round ears and spotty legs and inquisitive doggy behavior. Of course I thought of my dog, Kyle, and what I’d read about domesticated dogs being essentially “eternal puppies” in their behavior.

Things got even more incredible when two adult dogs arrived, whisking into the jumble of puppies and starting up a chorus of high-pitched yittering. A moment before the adults made their appearance, we saw all the puppies freeze in the act of wrestling, lift their heads in alarm, and bolt for the closest den opening (you’ll see that moment when I post a link to our photos). But as soon as they realized it was their own pack returning, they flashed back out into the open. The babies ran up to their mother and surrounded her, a few trying to nurse and others jumping up toward her mouth to beg for food, hoping she’d regurgitate something tasty for them. The adult dogs were as gorgeous as I’d dreamed, some of the most beautiful animals I’ve ever seen. We stayed and watched them for a long time. I loved their lanky motion as they trotted up and down the road patrolling the den area, circling back toward our vehicle and then cruising around it, so graceful and quick it was like they were floating over the ground. Several times the dogs looked up at us, and the fierce intelligence in their eyes was such a contrast to the pups’ wide-eyed curiosity. One of the adult dogs trotted right behind the land cruiser, so close below me I could hear the low growl in her throat. Don’t worry, I thought, I’m not getting out of this vehicle!

We’ve been fortunate to have some amazing wildlife sightings before, in Africa and India and Alaska and the Rockies, but I can safely say this was one of our very best ever (not quite at the level of the mountain gorillas, but right up there in our Top 5). Even ranger Greg was wildly snapping photos and exclaiming in amazement, “It doesn’t get better then this!” More than once I felt my eyes fill with tears, I was so overwhelmed and happy. We felt so lucky that our visit coincided with these dogs’ babyhood.

[Note: I’ve been following the progress of this dog pack on &Beyond’s “Wild Watch” webpage, and the pups have moved out of the den since our visit. But anyone planning a visit to Madikwe has a chance for some great wild dog sightings—recent posts on the site have mentioned the pack hunting and killing impala inside the lodge grounds, taking up residence on the hillside above the lodge, having conflicts over their kills with brown hyenas, and just a few days ago they had a sighting of a pack of 15 dogs making an impala kill. I want to go back!]

At last it was time to leave the dogs and let someone else have the chance to enjoy them. I know the main purpose of limiting it to one vehicle at the den is for the benefit of the dogs, but the practice made a great experience even better for the humans, too. As we drove off up the road, the pups broke off their wrestling matches and stick-tugging and came bounding along the road after us, chasing the car with their tails up and wagging. They scampered after us for a short distance, and then we heard a sharp yap from back near the den and all the pups turned tail and raced back to their mom.

From the wild dog den, we drove over to the fence that marks the border between Madikwe Reserve and Botswana. Greg told us that the dog packs have taken to using this fence for hunting, running their prey straight into it at high speed. (From a recent post on the lodge website, it seems as though they’ve also used the door of a guest’s room the same way!) This is a good example of the mixed blessings of fencing a reserve. Obviously, without the fence the impala might have a fighting chance. But the fence has also contributed not only to the dogs safety (keeping them in an area where they are protected from all the hazards that come with living near humans, such as traffic and poachers and angry farmers and canine distemper from domestic dogs), it has even helped increased their success rate in hunting. We had many conversations with Greg and, later, the Mankwe staff about the wildlife management issues that arise when a reserve is fenced—everything from water sources to migration paths to adjustments in animals’ behavior. It’s a fascinating and complicated subject, and definitely not as simple a question as “is it better to fence a reserve or leave it unfenced?” As soon as humans get involved with wildlife (and we have done so everywhere, all over the globe, like it or not), conservation answers are never simple.

Anyway, here we were at the fence, where we could see a lilac-breasted roller (in Botswana) and a crimson-breasted shrike (in South Africa). We had to break the news to our friends on their first game drive that, no, you don’t always have such an incredible sighting in your first half hour of safari ever! They were still hoping to see lions, too, and Greg was the one to point out that lions might seem a bit “boring” after those dogs. We continued back into the reserve away from the fence line, passing zebras, impalas, and a big male ostrich in breeding plumage, very impressive as he flounced away from us.

Greg stopped for sundowners and whipped out a little metal folding table, a bunch of drinks, and tins full of biltong, nuts, and dried mango. In East Africa our sundowners had generally been bottles of beer in the car or sipping something back at camp, so this was a treat for us. We had our first gin and tonics and watched the sun sink slowly behind the acacias. Just as it got dark a jackal arrived to sniff around the edge of our clearing. After we got back in the car we watched him follow his nose over to where our impromptu bar had been, searching in vain for dropped bits of biltong.

We didn’t see much on our night drive back to the lodge—some cape hares, impalas, and a bat—but no worries. I love just being out in the Africa night, looking up at those southern stars, and this drive had already been incredible enough to make the whole stay in Madikwe worth it. This was also our first experience of winter in Africa—did I mention that it was freezing? Dinner tonight was tender medallions of impala, washed down with Windhoek beer. We were joined by our new friends, and when the staff asked if the four of us wanted to always set up our table together, we cheerfully agreed. This was such a terrific and unexpected joy of our stay at Madikwe Safari Lodge. Beautiful lodge, great service, a wonderful guide… but add wild dogs and great new friends to that, and you couldn’t ask for a better safari experience.

When we returned late to our room for some much-needed sleep, we found a cozy fire blazing. I stepped out onto our deck and looked up to see a ceiling of bright stars overhead, and the blur of the Milky Way. It was so frosty I could see the plume of my breath. Was it really possible that we’d only arrived in South Africa this morning? I don’t think we could have imagined a more perfect first day.

"The Brown Hyenas project is $2950 for 12 days." Now that's a real bargain!

Your wild dog account is wonderful. Your enthusiasm about this magnificent species is in sharp contrast to the remarks from one vehicle-mate I recall from the past when we approached a den. "Those dogs do nothing for me. If we don't see them it won't bother me."

Maybe if she had read your account first, she'd have a different attitude.

The pups seemed to be as enthused about you as you were about them, chasing after your vehicle.

You timed your trip perfectly. Were you told anything about the wild dog population and situation in the last couple of years? On the incline/decline? I thought I read where a pack had left the park by escaping through the enclosure.

When convenient, could you email about your India trip? If there is a report anywhere you can just give a link.

Did you fly over District 9 while you were there?

/kidding.

Greg's "You're in luck"--understatement of the year! I hope I get to see dogs to someday.

How cold is winter in SA? What did you need to wear to stay warm?

What's the elephant situation there now?

regards - tom

Enjoying your writing very much, as usual. What a wonderful start to a safari.

Oh what luck with the dogs! I'm enjoying this report immensely!

I'm going to check out the Eartwatch site again. It's been years since I've looked into it. My impression years ago was that it was waaaaay to expensive. I'm going to have to re think that and take a new look at their trips.

On that Earthwatch site, I see three trips in 2010. The Aug departure would be best from a weather/wildife standpoint.

In 09 and 11 there was just one trip I think and not such great timing. I'm thinking of asking about another Aug departure in the future.

MDK, Did Earthwatch give any inidcation why 2010 had more trips? Some big initiative getting launched? Or maybe they'll post more 2011 trips as the time grows closer if there's interest. You're only a few posts into your report, but I would be interested in the Earthwatch Madikwe maybe 2012 or beyond.

The EW Samburu trip seems interesting too. I think some form of that trip has been in existence for at least a decade.

Like Lillipets, I thought the EW trips were much more expensive too in the past. Maybe our own definition of "expensive" has changed as Africa prices have escalated.

Your description of the Fed Air lounge brings back fond memories. The staff was very nice too. Those were some tasty complimentary snacks provided! I still remember. Come for the snacks, stay for the brown hyenas!

Wow, I go away for one night and come back to so many nice comments and questions! Thanks, you guys.

Let's see if I can answer all the questions...

Lynn, from what they told us the wild dog population is doing pretty well in Madikwe, but Greg did talk about that smaller pack that dissolved due to several dogs leaving the reserve and others being absorbed into a larger pack. I'm not sure what the total number of dogs in the reserve is now. A recent sighting I read about had a group of 15 dogs (from a different pack than the one we saw) involved in a hunt. "Our" dog family had, I believe, four adults and the six pups. Evidently they have been hunting very successfully and (obviously) having pups, so those are good signs. The dogs we saw are the one who have been using the Madikwe Safari Lodge architecture (doors, walkways) as part of their hunting technique lately. I wish I knew population numbers, but I'm not sure.

The cheetah population in Madikwe is another story. We were told that there is only one cheetah (a male) left in the reserve, because the lion population there is booming and they've just wiped out the cheetahs over time. I'll get into that a bit more as my report goes along.

Tom, we were told that elephants are doing well there, and we had some great ele sightings (coming up in the next few installments of my report) - a bull in musth, as well as several large groups of females and babies. I had read that the elephants in Madikwe were more skittish and/or hostile toward vehicles than elephants in other areas, but that wasn't our experience. Nobody even bothered to mock-charge us. They seemed generally calm... or as calm as any mother elephants are with a safari vehicle sitting there. I'm not sure what the total population is in the reserve (sorry I didn't ask about this, because I would be interested to know--for both eles and dogs), but at dinner one night our ranger and the South African couples got into a discussion about culling large populations on fenced reserves (both pro and con), and Greg said he was grateful that wasn't an issue for Madikwe at this point. I'll write more about this discussion later, too.

Lynn, I will be happy to e-mail you about our India trip. No trip report for that one -- this was before our Fodor's days (2005-06). I think I have your e-mail at work, so I will check this week and if I can't find it I'll let you know.

Leely, we did see that spaceship hovering over Joburg, but didn't have time to check it out. As for winter temps in Madikwe/Mankwe/Pilanesberg, it was as cold as the high 30s or low 40s F at night and early morning (of course even colder if you're driving around in an open vehicle!) and as warm as low 70s during the day. Most of the time we were wearing layers: long underwear, long sleeved shirt, fleece pullover, heavy fleece coat, ski hats and gloves. I brought 2 pairs of shorts and wore 1 pair on 1 day. During the day I could usually get by without the long underwear layer (and sometimes even short sleeves), but at night it was essential. A lot of our work with the Earthwatch project was driving around at night, so most of us ended up buying extra sweatshirts while we were there. If I was packing for this trip again, I would have skipped bringing shorts altogether and brought a few more fleece pullovers.

Earthwatch: Funny that you guys mention the cost of the Earthwatch trips, because for years we've been looking at their catalog and thinking we could never afford these trips! Yes, I do think some of it is adjusting your idea of what's a "bargain" after planning safari trips to Africa. But the Brown Hyenas project is one of the less expensive ones in Africa. I believe the cheetah, meerkat, and elephant projects are all about $1000 per person more, for a few days' longer trip. The cost was part of the reason we chose this particular project, as well as an interest in the subject animal. We also liked that this was a 12-day trip (many of them are 15 days long), which allowed us to add on a few days of safari time on our own beforehand. We could only take a couple of weeks off work this time, so it worked out well.

In case I wasn't totally clear, the Earthwatch Brown Hyenas project work actually takes place in the Mankwe Reserve (which is where we stayed), Pilanesberg National Park (about 15 minutes away), and Kgaswane Mountain Reserve (about 1 hour away), not in Madikwe. Although Project Phiri does have a researcher collecting data in Madikwe, too, the Earthwatch teams don't go there. Our 3-night stay in Madikwe was something we added on for fun (and wild dogs), and it was an additional cost, as was an extra night we spent in Joburg and touring Soweto.

The hyena project usually fields teams of volunteers in January (wet season), August (dry season) and November, and each team has slightly different types of data collection tasks and methods, depending on what the scientists leading the research need. From what they told us, our experience was typical of an August team. Looking at the site, it does look like they are having pretty much the same schedule for 2010. But I don't think all the other 2010 projects are posted yet (I've noticed some new ones pop up on the website this past week), and we did not get our 2010 catalog yet. I'm positive 2011 teams are not all posted yet. If you want I can ask the woman who runs the project in SA whether she knows about 2011 yet. Interesting that the site shows a change to February for 2011 (this could have something to do with the researchers' schedules). It also can't hurt to contact Earthwatch and let them know you're interested in 2011, just in case they have information that's not posted on the website yet.

One very valuable thing we learned about Earthwatch on this trip is that they do not run the same volunteer projects indefinitely -- so if you see one you really want to participate in, jump on it as soon as possible. Some projects will only run once, others go on for several years. But these really are data-gathering projects linked to specific scientific studies, so if funding is limited or enough data has been gathered for the scientists' purposes, the project will not longer be offered. This especially seems to be the case with some of the archaeological projects, which might only field teams a few times. Others like Laurie Marker's cheetah project in Namibia and some of the turtle projects seem to be ongoing, year after year.

Several people on our team had participated in many different Earthwatch projects, and we heard good feedback on the meerkats project (South Africa), cheetahs (Namibia), rhinos (Sweetwaters in Kenya), and Carnivores of Madagascar (although on this last one, evidently, the volunteers really, really rough it!). I thought the Tsavo lions one sounded good, but it's not posted for 2010 at this point. And the Samburu projects sounds really interesting, too.

As you'll see when I get into describing the Earthwatch part of the trip, these projects are not safaris, really, although we did see lots of wildlife and essentially did game drives every day. What you're paying for the is the chance to see what field work and wildlife research looks like from the ground level, and to really get to know a project and species well. If (like me) you want to nurture your childhood dreams of being like Jane Goodall, it's a great way to spend a vacation, but they do put you to work! I have a few more days of "pure safari" in Madikwe to write about, and then I will get to the Earthwatch part. But I'm happy to answer any other questions about the project as we go along, too.

Thanks so much to everyone who's reading! It makes all the typing worth it, and I hope to have some photos ready to share soon, too.

Great, great trip report. Thank you so much for all the detail. The first time I ever really saw the Milky Way was that trip to Tanzania. It was so amazing to look up and realize exactly what it was.

MDK

Keep on typing, every word is worth reading. Oh the pups sound so adorable, can't wait for the photos.

amy

Thanks for all the enlightening. So there must be healthy brown hyena populations in Mankwe Reserve, Pilanesberg National Park, nd Kgaswane Mountain Reserve in addition to Madikwe. You probably were clear about that.

WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL report. Thank you!

anita

Thank you, everybody!

Lynn, we hope they all have healthy populations. That's exactly what Project Phiri is working on -- trying to determine how the populations of brown hyenas are faring in several different kinds of conservation environments: national park (Pilanesberg), private reserve (Mankwe) and semi-protected area (Kgaswane Mountain). Graduate students (but not the volunteers) are also expanding the study to include the hyena populations in Madikwe and in totally unprotected areas like farmland. Even in a short time and with the limits of a 12-day participation, we were able to see a striking difference in things like hyena vs. jackal latrine areas (which helps determine distribution and density of the populations) between our three study areas. The project is also trying to raise awareness of hyenas as a charismatic and conservation-worthy animal... sadly, not an easy task, as the local farmers and village residents think they are vermin.

PART 3: You Don’t Mess With an Elephant in Musth

First thing out on our early morning game drive today, we saw our friends the makanyane (wild dogs) again. This time it was three adults, trotting up the road with dark red, blood-stained faces. They skirted the vehicles on the lodge road and loped right past us at a good clip, and so Greg and the other drivers quickly turned around as soon as they were safely past and followed. The dogs were heading straight for the lodge kitchen! They got almost there before they veered away and went up the steep hillside behind the lodge, following the elephant fence. For a long while we were able to follow their progress with our eyes, by watching for the white flashes of their tails, but finally they melted away into the scrub and vanished. We sat there for a moment after they’d gone, still a bit stunned and happily surprised. This was the first time we’d gone out on a game drive and had the animals come to us before we’d even really left the lodge driveway—and what gorgeous animals! I think these wild dogs will always be one of my most precious memories of South Africa.

Still, there was more of Madikwe to explore and other wildlife to seek out. We continued onward and saw zebras with a tiny newborn foal and giraffes with oxpeckers clinging to their long necks. We stopped at a dam to see what was going on waterside, and in addition to numerous beautiful birds we watched two jackals greeting each other with lots of bowing and scraping and chin-licking. Farther along, Greg pointed out a gigantic, incongruous palm tree (not a native here), which once marked the site of a farmhouse. It was a reminder of one of the special things about Madikwe—this whole area used to be farmland, and after an enormous effort and the relocation of thousands of animals, it’s been given back to Nature (or at least as much as it’s possible to do such a thing). The whole giant production was called “Operation Phoenix,” and it’s a fascinating example of one approach to wildlife conservation. It was especially interesting for us to hear the history of this place and compare it to the national parks and conservation areas we’ve visited in East Africa.

One example of the complications that can arise with this kind of wildlife relocation project is provided by our buddies the brown hyenas, who we would be learning much more about in the coming weeks. Brown hyenas had been surviving in this area all throughout the farming era, living around the edges of human settlements. Since they are scavengers, they were able to adapt to this type of “unnatural” environment better than many predators can. Then, with Operation Phoenix, spotted hyenas were brought into Madikwe. The larger, stronger, more aggressive spotties (who are both hunters and scavengers) have actually made life a great deal harder for their smaller brown cousins, who had not been competing with these differently-adapted hyenas for generations. Interestingly, Madikwe has become one of the best places to see interactions between these two types of hyenas (usually the spotties will run the browns off a carcass), as well as interaction between brown hyenas and wild dogs. (Tragically for us, we didn’t get to witness any of this interaction ourselves. We looked in vain for brown hyenas in Madikwe… but would later have good evidence of their presence here, thanks to camera trapping. I’ll talk about that more when I get to the Earthwatch Project.)

We followed some rhino tracks, but they only led us to guinea fowl, so Greg decided to stop for morning tea. Or in our case, hot chocolate spiked with Amarula (Greg’s suggestion for “what’s best on a cold morning”). Impalas and wildebeest joined us for our stretch break.

Not long after we got back into the vehicle, we had one of our most thrilling elephant encounters ever. As we came around a bend in the road between walls of dense, thorny thickets, a bull elephant in musth came strolling up the dirt track right toward us. He was very close, and showing all the signs: dark, wet streaks down his hind legs, temporal glands oozing, huge ears flapping, and his trunk making bizarre, twisting shapes in the air as though he was painting with a brush, then dragging on the ground for a bit before he flopped it up to one side and hooked it over his tusk. We had just attended a lecture on current research about bull elephant behavior in Namibia a few weeks before coming on this trip, so it was incredible to see in action some of the things we’d been shown in photos, especially his trunk motion. It was also kind of scary, the way he kept coming steadily toward us with nearly silent, determined steps. There was no stopping this guy, he was on the move. And with the vegetation all around us, there was nowhere to go but backwards.

Greg turned the vehicle around so we could make a quick getaway if necessary, and waited until the bull had almost caught up with us before moving farther down the road. Each time he shut off the land cruiser’s engine I thought about our vehicle problems in Tanzania and Uganda, and how our guide at Oliver’s Camp in Tarangire said he would never turn off the engine when an elephant nearby. I kept my eyes glued to the elephant, fascinated (and willing him to stay calm). This went on for about 15 minutes – the ele approaching, our vehicle moving a little farther down the road to stay out of his way, and him still coming straight for us with that slightly menacing, ear-flapping walk. I trusted that Greg knew what he was doing, but my heart was pounding hard. It felt a bit like “Jurassic Park” when we looked back behind us as he drove and saw that gigantic animal strolling along after us, suddenly quicker and with his head lowered over his long, quiet stride. At last he veered off into the bush and made his own trail away toward the hills. Greg decided it was best not to continue on that road in the direction we’d been going when we encountered him though, just in case there were other elephants farther ahead.

Just up the road we had a fleeting glimpse of buffalo, far away in the scrub. Some of the buffalo brought in during Operation Phoenix were actually born in zoos in the United States, but they quickly adjusted to life in the wild… which says a lot about this underrated animal. On our way back to the lodge for breakfast we saw tiny ground squirrels popping in and out of their network of holes (an amazing thing to see when juxtaposed with a gigantic bull elephant—how better to illustrate the diversity of life among mammals?).

We were joined by the usual bird crew in the dining room—hornbills, glossy starlings, francolins, and crimson-breasted shrikes. (This would not be a good lodge for the bird-phobic.) We had a few hours of down time this afternoon, for visiting the gift shop to pick up little puppets for our nieces, and then hanging out on our deck with trusty journal (me) and staff paper for writing music (my husband). At one point I heard a soft snap of twigs and looked out into the bush, amazed to see a herd of kudu with several little babies passing by.

Our afternoon game drive began with lots of birds: acacia pied somethingorother and golden-breasted whatshisname and a finch that the birders in the group got so excited about I thought they might jump out of the car. All joking aside, the birds were showing up so thick and fast my notes could not keep up with them. All I know for sure is, they were beautiful, and the people who knew their birds certainly seemed to think this was a great place to see some special ones. Amidst all this bird excitement, Greg noticed a track on the red dirt road and stared at it for a long time before finally saying (in a slightly amazed tone of voice), “I believe that’s a cheetah.” He then told us that cheetahs had been brought into Madikwe along with everything else, but they have fared very poorly here. It is difficult for cheetahs to thrive in the best of circumstances, but they have been especially hurt in this reserve by the booming lion population. Greg told us there is now, tragically, only one cheetah left in Madikwe, a very lonely male. They are hoping to get some females but evidently it involves a lot of government red tape and expense, so he wasn’t sure if or when that might happen. One of the South African guys leaned out of the vehicle to squint down at the track—shallow, but definitely a cat’s, and with faint pips of claws on the end of each toe—and said, “No, I don’t think cheetah.” But Greg stuck to his guns. “We’re very lucky even to see this fellow’s track,” he said.

Lots of our old favorites on this drive, hoofed and horned, and one new one: the adorable little springbok, South Africa’s national animal and soccer team mascot. We asked why the springbok was chosen for the honor of being the national animal, but all the South Africans were stumped, even our very knowledgeable ranger!

Everyone was excited to see a big male lion sleeping under a tree, but it was clear that he wasn’t going to get up and do anything any time soon. Like his Kalahari cousins, he had an impressive black mane. He looked at us through one cracked-open eye and then yawned and went back into a snooze. (Our friends agreed that sleepy lions are not as entertaining as wild dogs.) Greg promised we’d come back to him after dark and see what he was up to, but first he wanted to check out a fresh carcass for any possible activity.

The carcass was a juvenile white rhino that had died from a gore wound to its side—maybe from an elephant, or more likely another rhino. The rangers had already removed its horn, and they’d also cut open several flaps in the thick hide to “get it started.” There were a number of vultures hanging around in the treetops nearby, but nothing working on the carcass yet. Several adult white rhinos were hovering not far away, possibly standing guard over the poor little guy. We also saw some very relaxed wildebeest in the area, so it looked like the carnivores had yet to discover the site. “We’ll come back tomorrow and check it out,” Greg suggested.

We had a very close-up view of a white rhino on our way to sundowners, after first stopping at a waterhole to watch two jackals grooming each other, and three wildebeest trotting down to drink and buck around in the dusky light. During our night drive we revisited the lion, and here’s what he was up to: he’d moved about ten feet closer to the road, no longer beneath a tree, now sleeping out under the stars. When we drove up he cracked that one eye open again to see who it was, and then promptly went back to sleep. Okay, not the most thrilling lion sighting ever, but he sure was beautiful. The most impressive part of the night drive was when Greg managed to spot a tiny chameleon deep inside a leafy tree, just from the flash of reflection in the spotlight. What an incredible little creature, and a delightful display of night-time spotting skills. We teased him that it was a rubber chameleon he’d planted there, just to show off. We ended the drive by stopping to stargaze in a place called “Leopard Lane.”

Dinner tonight was outdoors in the boma, a magical place lit by hanging lanterns and fires blazing in big drums, with a canopy of stars overhead. Boer-style sausages, local beer and amarula tiramisu were among the treats tonight. The only downside was that the South Africans in our group got into a heated debate with Greg about wildlife management issues, particularly elephant culling and the ivory trade. Some people believe that culling is the answer to overpopulation in certain reserves and parks—“just shoot the big ones and take the ivory,” one guy insisted. “If ivory was legal it could help pay for conservation.” But as Greg pointed out, the trouble with culling (aside from purely moral objections) is that if you kill the big tusker elephants then you’ve got to kill the entire herd, or else you will leave behind severely traumatized elephants in the aftermath of the slaughter. It’s a grim way of thinking, but it’s true. And a traumatized elephant, especially one cut loose from the moorings of its adult family members and herd culture, is a very dangerous, destructive thing indeed. Personally, I side with those folks that one of the South African guys was disdainfully calling “bunny huggers”—I don’t think culling elephants is the answer. We humans have done enough to the animals that share this planet with us, I think we owe it to them to find better solutions than that.

I loved your account of the wild dog den! As usual I felt like I was right there with you.

We met a woman years ago who went on an EW trip and like you, I remember thinking at the time that I'd never be able to afford a trip like that! Funny how our perceptions have changed.

Looking forward to more!

MDK, I just found this....I can't wait to read it! You know that I'm a big fan of your writing! BTW....T minus 14 days and counting!

WHO UNDERRATES THE MIGHTY BUFFALO? WHO???

How can our lonely cheetah thrive? What will become of the beautiful brownies in Madkiwe if the spotties continue to dominate?

I love this report. Thanks, MDK.

MDK, I've enjoyed what I've managed to make time to read, in between w**k. Just a small correction. The Springbok is the emblem of the S.A. national rugby ("Rugby Football") team, not soccer ("Association Football").

Hi everyone,

Yikes! Arthur, thanks for setting me straight. Sports are not my strong point, I'm a musician.

Leely, I've heard my share of (clueless) safari-goers diss the Mighty Buffalo, calling them "boring," "big cows," or "not worth taking pictures of." Of course, I do not agree! Here's a good buffalo story: When we were doing our hot air balloon flight over the Masai Mara several years ago, every animal we flew over turned tail and ran... except the buffalo. When we flew over a big herd of buffalo, they actually turned and stared defiantly up at the balloon like they were going to kick our a**. Mighty, indeed! I love those guys. I think anyone who underrates buffalo just doesn't know much about them.

Thanks again for all the nice comments. You guys made my day. I hope to post another installment this weekend...

A great variety from big to small. That trick of spotting a chameleon in the dark never fails to impress.

Interesting how the brown hyena are hassled more by their bigger cousins than humans.

Hi Lynn,

Yes, the interspecies hyena harrassment is common in the reserve... but outside of it, the poor little brownies are still plenty harrassed by humans, too. Just doing a quick internet search for "brown hyenas," I found several very disturbing (and gleeful) accounts of farmers "exterminating" brown hyenas for supposedly hunting and killing their livestock. Which is rich, considering they're scavengers, not hunters. There is still definitely the perception among certain humans that brown hyenas are pests that don't deserve sympathy.

Just in case I haven't put in a plug for this book yet, anyone who's interested in brown hyenas should definitely read Mark and Delia Owens' "Cry of the Kalahari." (Lynn, I'd be very surprised if you haven't read this one already! )

PART 4: The Most Popular Cat in Madikwe

Straight off this morning we saw a juvenile fish eagle, one of my favorite African birds. I realized to my (slight) dismay that I can now identify many more African birds than North American ones, which makes me think I should be paying more attention to the wildlife at home, too. (I’m good on my North American mammals, though!) We stopped to watch a little tree squirrel, who sat on a branch and yelled at us with all his chattering might. Greg said, “Poor little fellow, he’s really mad at us but no one takes him seriously.” I wondered if the squirrel was thinking, “If only I was a lion!”

As we drove past Baboon Baboon Mountain (no, that’s not a typo), we heard a Pel’s owlet cry out but didn’t see him, and saw some giraffes high up on the hillside, their necks like popsicle sticks in silhouette. Birds everywhere: purple roller, black-shouldered kites, thorny sickle bushes dotted with glossy starlings and yellow-fronted canaries and the bright flashes of crimson-breasted shrikes. We had a spectacular coffee break this morning in an orangey-red dirt pan, with a herd of 15 to 20 giraffes literally galloping past us, the young ones bucking and playing with each other. This was one of the coolest sights I’ve ever seen—so many of them, looking like they were running in slow motion with those long, loping strides. Zebras ambled between the giraffes as they settled down to browse not far from where we were sipping our hot chocolate, and were later joined (at a safe distance) by two white rhinos.

We got back in the car and met the same group of giraffes farther down the road. A pale chanting goshawk flew over our heads carrying a fresh francolin kill and landed on a treetop near us to dine. A slender mongoose scampered by on the road below, probably grateful the bird was otherwise occupied. Later, to our delight, we came upon a group of elephant moms and babies—the smallest one only a few months old. They were deep in the thorny brush browsing and hard to photograph, but eles are always fun to watch. It did strike me that viewing animals here in the green season, when all this shrubbery is leafed out, might be really hard (even though the reserve would look very pretty that way). Between this first elephant group and the next, it was a parade of impressive horns: two huge male kudu, waterbucks, impalas. Then another large elephant family with little babies, this time out on a flat open area where we could see them much better. They crossed the road behind us, giving us a great view of the littlest ones. It’s so cute how the tiny elephants hurry across roads as fast as they can, tails straight out and trunks wobbling, trying to keep up with their bigger siblings and cousins.

At this point Greg had kept us out on the drive longer than any of the other vehicles and it was breakfast time back at the lodge, but we were still a good distance away. “Anyone hungry?” he asked, and a moment later we rounded a curve in the road and saw a surprise waiting for us: a pancake station set up in the bush. We had a delicious snack of crepe-like pancakes spread with butterscotch and rolled up like finger food. Getting out of the vehicles enabled us to spot some smaller creatures, too—a colorful little skink on a log, and a bizarre-looking stick bug who’d been hitching a ride on the front grill of our vehicle. We set him free, and marveled at how he instantly blended in with the straw-like blades of grass against the red earth.

Our afternoon drive today was really something special. The big event started when Greg again noticed cheetah tracks alongside the road in the soft dirt. This time instead of a single footprint there was a line of them. “They looked relatively recent,” he told us, sounding surprised. We drove slowly along the road, not more than a few minutes more, and suddenly a cheetah—THE cheetah, the one-and-only cheetah of Madikwe—stepped out into the road and crossed in front of us! We all gasped, our mouths hanging open in wonder as we watched him walk over to a fallen tree and turn his rump to it to spray his mark. Then he jumped up on the log and posed for a long time in full view: digging his claws into the tree like a kitty on a scratching post, stretching his long spine in a graceful arc, turning to face us and sitting down to give us a good, long look at his face, the dark streak of “tear” marks and his glowing pumpkin-colored eyes. What a magnificent cat! We had never had a cheetah sighting like this one. And once again, we were the only vehicle there. Greg was grinning from ear to ear, whispering that nobody had seen this cat for months, and his radio collar was not working… so they hadn’t even been sure he was still alive.

The cheetah jumped down from the tree and began a leisurely stroll through the grass, with us following at a distance so we could keep an eye on him. Greg put a message out to the other rangers on the radio, and became the hero of the day. He told us that they would want to try to have someone watching the cheetah as long as they could today, so other cars would arrive to take over from us at some point… but that, like the wild dogs, they would only allow one car at a time, and could not get too close. We were very fortunate to have been the first vehicle, because the cheetah crossed the road and chose a tree perch so near to where we already were—normally they would not approach him that close. The cheetah seemed very relaxed about all of this and it was easy to keep him in sight as he walked through the grass. Every now and then he’d turn back to check us out, keeping an eye on us, too. Before long he chose a shady spot under a tree and flopped down for a nap, and that’s the point at which we made way for another vehicle to have a look. We heard later that night that the rangers were able to watch the cheetah until dark, and at one point a group of lions stalked him (which scared everyone), but ultimately they left him alone.

We headed onward from the cheetah sighting with happy hearts, and even the more stoic South African guys in our vehicle were giddy with excitement. None of us ever expected to see this cat, so to not only see him but also get to watch him do so much (none of the lazy-cat syndrome this time) was a real gift. Thinking of him, though, breaks my heart too. How tragic that there is only this one cheetah in Madikwe (and yet, I still see it advertised as a place to see cheetahs!). What will become of him? Poor lonely guy. Knowing how tough survival is for cheetahs everywhere in Africa, I’m worried for him.
Our first post-cheetah sighting (because at this point, everything became known as “post-cheetah”) was a banded mongoose, followed by two white rhinos hiding in the brambles. What a wealth of rhinos they have here! Everywhere we turn, we see white rhinos—an especially welcome sight after our last trip to Uganda and Rwanda, where we saw none. As we drove around searching in vain for a pride of lions that had been spotted near the river earlier, Greg showed us two new trees (well, new for us—they’d obviously been here for a long time): a stinking (stinky?) shepherd’s tree, and a gorgeous 1,000-year-old leadwood that towered over the river bank. He also pointed out a half-finished lodge on the hillside across the river, which had been built illegally. Apparently the reserve is at lodging capacity and no new lodges are supposed to be built, but somebody greased the right government palms and started this project, only to have it halted mid-construction. So now there are a number of empty, half-built cottages with conical roofs dotting the hill. Ugly sight. A white van was parked near to one of these cottages, with its doors open and radio blasting, “We Built This City.” (I’m not joking!) It was surreal, and very funny, to hear that out in the African bush.

Greg found us a nice sundowner spot by the river, and on her way to the “ladies’ room” behind a bush one of the women in our car discovered a big pile of porcupine quills (pretty much everything else of the porcupine had been eaten). We were all enjoying our drinks and biltong and conversation when suddenly Greg hushed everyone and motioned us over to the land cruiser. A huge white rhino had come down the path on its way to the river and was standing on the opposite side of our vehicle, just a short way up the path. He stood there swiveling his ears cautiously (probably thinking, “Darn it! What do I do now?”), and after a few minutes he turned tail and hurried back up the path to the cover of the scrub. We could still see him there, waiting for us to leave. We packed up quickly and drove slowly off in the other direction, making way for him to reach the water, and in the gathering dusk we saw him make his way down to the river’s edge. That’s definitely a first for us—a rhino joining us for drinks!

On our night drive tonight we saw a mother rhino with the tiniest baby rhino I’ve ever seen, probably a newborn. Greg found another chameleon for us, and then we stopped for a long stargazing session. I was happy that everyone in our vehicle enjoyed star-watching so much, and that Greg was a good sky guide, too. The Southern Cross blazed overhead in a sea of bright stars, with Antares and the sweeping arc of Scorpio. So beautiful, this crisp winter air making our noses tingle. It’s so gratifying to see the night sky as it really is, not dulled by light pollution. I really love it here, I thought, and I can’t believe it’s our last night in Madikwe already.

Greg suggested we all gather in the bar for a beer tonight, and we hung out by the blazing fireplace for a long time talking. I was looking forward to starting our volunteer project in a few days, but it was sad to think about saying goodbye to our new friends, especially. Once again we lingered late over dinner with them, talking about movies and wildlife and politics and travel and our lives in our respective countries halfway across the world. I really want to believe this won’t be the last time we see them… but how great, too, that we got to share these days with them here. When we finally returned to our room, we found a goody tray on our bed with tiny bottles of Amarula, marshmallows, cherries and chocolate sauce. We decided to save the Amarula for our last night in South Africa, and packed up the wine to take with us to the Earthwatch camp. One adventure coming to an end, but another just about to begin.

(Fourwheelinit, are you all packed and ready to go?? Less than 2 weeks now, how can you stand the excitement?!)

Actually just t minus 8 days and counting!!!! Everything is in one room, just need to put it in the suitcase, weigh it and keep my fingers crossed! It's so tough being at work for the next week. My friend and I are calling each other everyday asking about what to take.
I know that I wouldn't have known 1/2 of the stuff that I know now if it wasn't for this website. Everyone on it is sooo awesome.

This is a wonderful report -- brings back some memories (wild dogs and eles) and makes me ready to go again (maybe the brown hyenas)! Thanks for sharing. I'll be watching for the EW installments.

Your cheetah sighting was the needle in the haystack. Is his future likely bachelorhood?

Butterscotch pancakes in the bush, what a surprise.

I first learned there were such things as brown hyenas from Cry of the Kalahari.

Looking forward to the PC report, which will continue from this point, and that's not politically correct.

Sorry for the long delay -- life has been complicated and busy these past few weeks. Here's another installment...

PART 5: The Many Sides of South Africa

We had one last game drive at Madikwe this morning, extra early so that everyone in our vehicle could catch the late-morning flight or head off on the long drive back to Johannesburg. The usual suspects came out to greet us in the chilly morning air—zebras, a large group of giraffes with babies, kudu, steenbok and springbok, wildebeest and guinea fowl. I never get tired of seeing these beautiful animals.

We encountered four white rhinos this morning, two of them very close and inquisitive about our vehicle. Then it was time to visit the rhino carcass again, where the scene was starting to get more active. Greg told us that brown hyenas had been seen there earlier, but now the bigger, stronger spotted hyenas had run them off and were having their turn. When we arrived, a large spottie was working hard at the carcass, with a little jackal darting in and out for his share. The hyena was a stunner—a real glamour girl, by far the most beautiful hyena I’ve ever seen. Her coat was golden and shiny with lovely markings, as fluffy as if she’d just been shampooed (aside from the blood on her face, of course). It was so impressive to watch her tear into the tough rhino hide, and to hear the crunching of her powerful teeth. An audience of vultures and pied crows had gathered around to watch, too. We had a nice long viewing, during which another spotted hyena arrived and circled cautiously around in the distance, too nervous to come in to the carcass.

That would have been an outstanding morning in and of itself, but on our way back to the lodge we added a nice coda to it by encountering a group of juvenile lions sleeping on the road. They were calling for their moms with a low moan every now and then, but they didn’t seem too concerned overall as they lounged around on the sun-warmed earth. A “go-away” bird sat in a tree across the road, scolding them.

We had our last delicious meal at the lodge, packed up our bags, and said our goodbyes to our South African vehicle-mates, who were driving back home to Joburg. We had lots of thanks and big hugs for Greg, who was a terrific guide and a lot of fun. He drove us over to the airstrip with our friends, and we joked on the way about how a leopard should walk out into the road and give us our feline triple play… but it was not to be. The four of us boarded the little plane, and it was a quick and uneventful flight back to the city. Then, sadly, it was time to say goodbye to our new friends, too, as we headed off in different directions to explore more of South Africa. Hopefully we will meet up again someday.

At the airport we were met by Patrick, our guide from RNS tours who would be taking us to visit Soweto this afternoon. Patrick was great, and he really made our half-day tour more than just a quick survey of famous sites. He was extremely candid—and often very funny—as he shared his views on everything from current South African politics to the World Cup to religion to crime and South Africa’s future. Most significantly, he told us a lot about what it was like to be a black man growing up under apartheid, and what things were like for him in the “new” South Africa. We appreciated so much having a chance to talk with someone who was willing to share his views, both positive and negative.

Soweto was very much what we’d expected from reading about its history and seeing photos of the anti-apartheid struggle. In some ways, this historic corner of Johannesburg seems very much like numerous other places in poor, densely-populated corners of the developing world—the outskirts of Nairobi or Delhi, for instance. It’s the reasons for this place and its original purpose that are shocking and different: this was not a slum that grew organically from poor people migrating into the city, but a place to house black workers who were not allowed to live elsewhere under apartheid. One of the first things Patrick showed us was the old police observation area, complete with high towers overlooking the township. (Like most stops on this afternoon’s tour, we were only able to view it from the car. I think if you are interested in having a less rushed and more intimate exploration of the place, you really need to take a full-day tour and ask to do at least some of it on foot. But still, this half-day driving tour was very interesting and gave us a good overview and history lesson, at least.)

Inside Soweto itself, we drove past the squalid long buildings which once served as hostels for workers brought in from the tribal areas, usually men who had to leave their families back in the village. These buildings are gradually being torn down to make way for pastel-colored multifamily homes. Next we drove into the posh section of Soweto, where middle class families who own businesses have built large homes out of brick and stucco, with high walls and metal gates around them for security. Patrick pointed out the first house in Soweto to have an in-ground swimming pool—we even caught a glimpse of it through the house’s front window. Some of these homes also serve as B&B’s for tourists, and other have tuck shops in their garages. We saw these little impromptu shops all over Soweto.

We drove past a primary school where some friendly kids ran alongside our van waving and calling “Hello!”, which made me think back fondly to our driving trips through East Africa and miss those long, crazy days of driving, despite their hardships. You really do see a country differently when you travel that way instead by small plane. We noticed a group of children in their school uniforms gathered in a huddle around a big gate at one of the fancy houses, where a sign proclaimed, “A Pedigree Dog Lives Here!” (they were all trying to reach in and pet that “Pedigree” dog), and other kids having fun in a brand-new playground. Other than the security walls, this area didn’t look too different from a suburb back home.

Next we drove down the hill to the “lower class” (Patrick’s term) area of the township, where block houses with tin roofs and many families living crammed in together replaced things like private yards and swimming pools and security fencing. Here we saw lots more people out and about—tending to stalls selling fruit or household goods or car parts, standing in line for goat’s head stew under a tarp tent, or just wandering aimlessly. We stopped and got out of the van to visit Freedom Square, where a memorial stands to commemorate the Freedom Charter. Across the way from this tall tower, a vendor was selling t-shirts with Obama’s and Mandela’s faces. There were lots of small goods vendors crowding the square, and several people smiled and said hello to us. One man commented, “We like to see people like you here, welcome!” (and then he asked Patrick, unsuccessfully, for beer money). There’s also a large hotel here, overlooking the square. “Next time you come to Joburg, you stay here,” Patrick insisted, and then immediately laughed, “No, no, don’t do it, I am joking! They say it’s 4-star, but I say it’s NO star!”

We drove onward past a hospital, where big signs read, “Are you HIV+? Do you need a CD4 count?” and “AIDS is Real!” We talked with Patrick about the grim health statistics in this area, and the 30% unemployment, which he told us many people blame on the influx of refugees from Zimbabwe. He said there is so much hostility toward Zimbabwean workers that people in the townships often beat them up or even kill them. He also told us that while Soweto is the most famous township and now the most visited one, too, it is in some ways less representative of what township life is like today than some of the others, simply because it is more famous and “historic” (and, we suspect, they don’t take tourists to the poorest areas). Tembisa is, he said, “up and coming,” while Alexandra is “definitely not for visitors—if I went there, they would kill me.” Of downtown Joburg, he said, “Everything is there: if you want drugs, you will find them… if you want crime, you will find it there too. The police do not even bother to arrest these guys anymore, they just shoot them.”

After lunch at a little pub we visited some of the landmarks of the anti-apartheid movement, including Orlando West school, where the student protests of the 1970s started, and the Hector Pietersen Museum, which documents the events in photos, videos, and audio interviews, and also memorializes the first child killed by police during the protests. It was a very moving and interesting place. Finally, back in the van, Patrick drove us past the huge new stadium that’s being built in Soweto for next year’s World Cup, and the shiny new transportation hub nearby. He said that the shacks on the hillside below the stadium would be torn down before the games, because “that’s not the image South Africa wants the world to see.” We also got a glimpse of the Mandela house museum, nearly hidden by all the road construction as they get ready for next year’s influx of tourists, but we didn’t have time to go inside. We drove past Soweto’s TV station, which triggered a fun discussion with Patrick about South African jazz musicians.

On our drive from Soweto to the Emperor’s Palace casino complex, we got stuck in rush hour traffic. Patrick whiled away the time by entertaining us with stories of his life, and some of the crazy things he’s had to do for demanding clients. He proudly pointed out the gigantic main stadium for the World Cup, before admitting that while he hopes South Africa plays well, he’s really going to be rooting for “his team”—Brazil.

We said goodbye to Patrick at the Mondior Concorde Hotel, where we were whisked inside by uniformed doormen. This place was quite a contrast, both to Soweto and to Madikwe—a big, polished (and somewhat generic) business hotel attached to a complex of Las Vegas-y casino, food court, and other hotels. This wasn’t the type of place we’d usually want to stay, but Rhino Africa had recommended it as a safe, simple place to get a bite to eat and a good night’s sleep, with a free airport shuttle to get us to our rendezvous with the Earthwatch team tomorrow morning. We got our things settled in the room and plugged in our battery chargers, then headed downstairs to wander around and find some dinner. We had to walk down a long corridor from the hotel and pass through a metal detector to get to the casino area, where we passed some very cheesy “Roman villa”-style frescoes on the walls and ceiling, and then ended up in an indoor “Italian piazza,” complete with a painted sky overhead and a replica of Michelangelo’s David, wearing a hard hat and tool belt. He held a sign that said, “Under Construction: The Empire is Expanding!” Um… okay. Where are we, again?

Trying to feel like we were indeed in South Africa still, we chose to eat at Tribe’s African Grill. We tried a number of small plates that sounded interesting, and made a pretty good dinner of it: ostrich sausages with mielie pap (boiled maize meal), Cape spring rolls with bobotie and sweet chutney, “Congo black mushrooms,” and South African wine. The casino itself was not at all our scene, so we walked around a bit more and found nothing interesting except an odd little shop called Mr. Biltong. It looked like a candy store, but with glass-fronted cabinets filled with South Africa’s famous jerky and—inexplicably—a bunch of stuffed animals and giant teddy bears hanging on the opposite wall, like the kind of stuff you’d win at a carnival. (Come to think of it, this would probably be our dog Kyle’s dream store: dried meat and stuffed toys!) I pondered all the biltong choices: beef, warthog, kudu, wildebeest, eland, impala… We finally chose springbok, and also picked up some local snack food, like we always like to do in other countries: Simba chips, and some weird little candies called “Sour Mini Enerjelly Babies” (they looked like tiny gummy versions of the Easter Island moai—who could resist?). By then our brains were fatigued by all the crazy contrasts of the day—from a hyena tearing at a rhino carcass to the extremes of wealth and poverty in the township, and finally this nutty casino full of light and noise and African antelope jerky. It was time to go back to our room and get some sleep before we met up with our fellow brown hyena volunteers.

Here are some of our favorite photos from Madikwe and Soweto. I included nearly all of our wild dog photos, since they are so special to me.

http://tinyurl.com/ykadwpf

bumping... just in case anyone wants to look at pictures of wild dog pups on a Friday.

Why yes I would like to see some dog pics on a Fri. night. You have the whole spectrum of dog activity too. The pups with the mom are some of my favorites. What a fortunate find.

When there are spotted and brown hyenas together are the spotted ones referred to as "Spotties"? I read where you used that term.

Thanks, Lynn -- I was feeling like my posts get buried before anyone sees them.

I think "spotties" may be just a fond term used by one of the researchers we worked with on the hyena project, but we picked it up, too. We often heard the rangers and the researchers refer to them as "browns" and "spotties"/"spotteds" rather than "hyenas."

The dog photos in particular are absolutely beautiful. What a great experience.

You really got close too. Good idea to show the vehicle in some of the shots.

I still think of those dogs when I'm having a bad day. Never fails to cheer me up!

Sorry for the delay (no free time for typing lately). Here's the beginning installment of our Earthwatch project...

PART 6: Home Sweet Mankwe

We slept in this morning until about 8:30, knowing it would be the last time for a while that we’d be able to do such a thing, and had what we thought might very well might be our last hot showers for more than a week. (We were really expecting to rough it at the volunteer camp.) We had an uninspired-but-free breakfast buffet downstairs in the hotel and checked out. The Mondior Concorde was a perfectly nice hotel and provided exactly what we’d needed (a place to sleep, a place to eat, a quick shuttle ride to the airport), but looking out the windows at the parking lot and the freeway, we understood how business travelers get burnt out on this sort of thing—this hotel could be anywhere, in any city. We were excited to hop on the shuttle and head off toward something more adventurous. And I felt a tiny bit of apprehension about meeting the rest of our Earthwatch crew, too. What would they be like? What kind of people spend their vacation studying brown hyenas?

Well, at this point I’m going to edit my personal journal a bit, because I don’t think it’s fair to write too much about the other volunteers on our team and this is our version of events, after all. Suffice it to say, my apprehension was for nothing. We had a fantastic team, a bunch of really nice, hardworking and fun people who helped make this great experience even better. Of course, we didn’t know this the moment we met them at the airport—all we knew was that there would be 11 of us (including my husband and myself), with volunteers from various parts of the USA and the UK, ranging in age from 18 to 65+, a few couples and lots of solo travelers. The travel experience in the group ranged from one person who was on her very first trip away from home, to a woman who’d been to Africa nine times, and several guys who had done more than 15 Earthwatch projects each. Many people were on their first trip to Africa. It was a diverse group in terms of life experiences and careers, and overall I was quite impressed, even in the first few minutes of talking to each of them. What we all had in common, of course, was a passion for conservation, a fascination with African wildlife in particular, and a desire to jump in and do something useful here.

Our transfer drivers arrived a bit late, but it gave us all time to hang around in the airport and start to get to know one another. When the drivers showed up, they apologized profusely for getting stuck in traffic, then quickly loaded up luggage and people for the 2-hour drive to the Mankwe Wildlife Reserve, near Pilanesberg National Park. We split into two different vans for the trip; ours was driven by a tall, charismatic Zimbabwean guy named Aaron, who chatted with us, told stories about his life, and answered questions all the way to Mankwe. One of Aaron’s best stories was about how he’d come to South Africa for a job (“There are no jobs in Zimbabwe,” he’d said, “And that is an understatement!”) and fallen in love with a girl in Joburg, who later became his wife... instead of doing the traditional thing and marrying a girl from his village back home. Evidently he had a LOT of explaining to do with his parents, and the story was quite funny and sweet the way he told it. I thought about what Patrick had told us, how South Africans are often hostile toward people who come from Zimbabwe looking for jobs here, and it was an especially sobering thought after having met one of those people—especially someone as delightful, kind and capable as Aaron.

I did a lot of looking out the window, too, mentally comparing South Africa with other countries I’ve visited. Frankly, a lot of what I saw reminded me of California, particularly the central valley and I-5. Our drive took us past rolling farmland with long irrigation pipes and purplish mountains in the distance. The high electric fences topped with razor wire were something we don’t see around the farms back home, though. Gradually farms gave way to a more dusty, arid region, and platinum mines replaced green fields. Each time our car slowed down, guys would run up to us and try to sell us tangerines, sunglasses, bottled water, newspapers. The houses were smaller and scrappier out here than near the city, but it still looked a great deal more developed than what we’d seen in East Africa. The roads were paved and well-maintained the entire way, and people had glass in their windows, power lines, big school buildings, fences (with that ubiquitous barbed wire). Not to diminish the problems with poverty that South Africa definitely faces, especially in the divide between the very rich and the very poor, but overall this felt like a very different Africa than the ones we’d visited before. (And of course, it wasn’t a surprise – there is not an “Africa,” any more than there is an “Asia” or “Europe.”) But just to mention a few of things that were remarkably different between the East Africa I visited and the part of South Africa I saw: there were so many fewer people out and about here, not nearly as many folks walking alongside the roads, and lots more cars. We also saw very few of the colorful little businesses and shops with their clever signs that I’d loved so much in countries like Kenya and Uganda.

When we arrived at Mankwe, our home for the next 12 days, we were a bit surprised. I’m not sure exactly what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. Aaron turned the car into the gates of an old mining explosives factory and drove past a parking lot and some low brick buildings. Was this where our brown hyena project was located?? Thankfully, no—we drove on past it and down a series of dirt roads that took us far from the factory, past several kudu-crossing signs and into open grassland dotted with acacia trees and scrub. We would learn later that this whole wildlife reserve exists because of the explosives factory, though. It’s now closed, with the factory operations moved closer to Johannesburg, but the area that is now the reserve was originally set up as a mandatory buffer zone for safety when the factory was still in operation. Wildlife moved into the buffer zone (as wildlife tends to do), and some of the company’s employees took an interest in it. The land still belongs to the explosives company but it is now a fenced wildlife reserve, and in addition to the wildlife that “volunteered” here, a number of other species have been introduced to the area. Dougal MacTavish, a former employee of the explosives company, manages the reserve, and Project Phiri (our brown hyena study) has been based here for some time. If all this sounds dreadful to some of you who love wide-open spaces, I do have to mention that once you’ve passed inside the gates of the reserve, you’d hardly know there was ever a factory nearby. The reserve is small enough that we did regularly see the border fences, but overall it felt a world away from the developed South Africa we’d driven through to get here. It is quite a lovely, scenic place, and you can walk and drive for miles without seeing anything but wildlife.

When we drove through the reserve’s gate for the first time, we were immediately greeted by a waterbuck mom and baby, then a pair of warthogs and a herd of impala. We got a good view of the double line of fencing, with a mowed fire break in between. Certain animals like jackals, brown hyenas, honey badgers, porcupines, and caracals can easily get in and out under these fences (and in fact we saw some crafty warthogs slipping in and out through their network of trenches nearly every day we were here). But the bigger animals like antelope, zebra, rhino and giraffe are contained by them. Even if the agile antelope species manage to leap over the first fence, they don’t have enough space to get up the speed to clear the second fence line. We’d learn, too, that while these fences helped keep the animals from wandering off into developed areas, they didn’t manage to deter poachers much more than they deterred warthogs.

As we drove through the reserve toward our camp we saw a large herd of blesbok, one of the southern antelope varieties and a new animal for us. They look very much like dark chestnut hartebeests, with bright white blazes down their faces that give them their name—a striking sight when all those faces suddenly turn your way. A few minutes later, we spotted a huge male ostrich in breeding plumage running away through the tall golden grass. We pulled into camp and got our first glimpse of our new home. This would be the longest we’d ever stayed in one place during our travels: 11 nights, 12 days. And lucky for us, it was a little piece of paradise. The camp is in a gorgeous spot, right at the edge of a small lake (which the locals all just called “the dam”) teeming with birdlife and ringed with tall, reedbuck-friendly grasses and reeds. On the dry side of the dam wall is a small pool with warm red rocks, where monitor lizards like to bask in the sun. A grassy area with a large fallen log (perfect for journaling and bird watching), a fire pit, and a volleyball net separates the few camp buildings from the water’s edge. (I noticed that the grass was dotted with the small dark pellets of antelope poop, indicating that there were frequent night-time visitors.) There is a large wooden dining hall with a kitchen in the back, and a smaller building that houses the classroom and field equipment tables, decked out with identification samples (skulls and bones, a caracal skin, lots of impressive horns) and a small field library. Our training and meetings would take place here.

The women in our volunteer group (who outnumbered the men 7 to 4, in case you’re wondering about that sort of thing) were housed in the “chalet,” a cinder block building with a small patio, communal bathrooms, and a boma to one side. Behind that was a similar building for staff and some visiting college students from the UK, who were also working on Project Phiri. The couples and single guys lucked out and got big walk-in safari tents of our own, with attached private bathrooms and showers. My husband and I got really lucky and were assigned to the tent furthest away from the main camp, up a winding little path on a small hill. From the chairs in front of our tent we had a stunning view of the lake. (But really, all the tents and buildings had a darn nice view of it.) Inside, the tents were simple and very comfortable, with shelves for our duffle bags and a rack to hang some clothes, bamboo walls around the bathroom, and three single beds. We pushed two together to put our sleeping bags on, and used the third as storage for our backpacks and gear. We had a generator for light at night until 10pm, and hot water for showers from a crazy old “donkey boiler” into which Alfred, the camp’s handyman, fed wood every morning (or on request at other times of day). In addition to its nice location, our tent was distinguished by a zebra-skin rug on the floor. I felt bad (and startled!) every time I walked across it and felt its shaggy forelock on my bare feet or under my boots, but I’ll admit it was impossible not to appreciate its beauty up close. (Those stripes! I still prefer to see them on a live animal, though.) At some point or other everyone on our team would come by our tent to meet “our” zebra.

Overall, we were pleasantly surprised by how good the accommodations were at the camp – other than the winter cold, this was not “roughing it” at all. We absolutely loved our tent, the camp’s location, the delicious meals, and everything about our stay here. We’ve heard that Earthwatch projects can really vary from one to the next in terms of the quality of housing and food, but Mankwe was outstanding. This was not “luxury” in the tourist-safari sense, but it was a really lovely, comfortable place to call home and a far step above what we’d been expecting as volunteers.

In addition to seeing the camp for the first time, this first afternoon was also our chance to meet our team leaders, or P.I.’s (principal investigators, in Earthwatch-speak). The British scientists who lead Project Phiri were not in residence during our stay, but Lynne MacTavish is the resident P.I. at Mankwe (she’s Dougal’s daughter and is Operations Manager of the reserve). Lynne was assisted during our stay by another team leader, Lauren, who has a background as a safari guide (and a wicked sense of humor), and several British students, including Louisa, a Ph.D. candidate who is doing an extensive study of brown and spotted hyenas and Louis, a graduate student who is studying vultures and coordinates research at the reserve. There’s also an excellent staff at the camp, including Makhosi and Hilda (extraordinary cooks), Alfred (master of the donkey boiler and an expert snake-catcher), and a group of trackers who assisted with various projects. There are multiple Earthwatch groups contributing to Project Phiri at different times of the year so the project leaders change depending on who is in residence, but since Lynne lives at Mankwe she is an important and very positive influence on the project. As we got to know her, I would be constantly amazed and impressed by her wealth of knowledge about wildlife and her bush skills.

After lunch and a short break to settle into our rooms and tents, we all climbed up into the back of a (very high!) open truck and headed out into the reserve for an orientation game drive with Lynne and Lauren. Right at the edge of camp, we startled two reedbucks out of the brush. We saw quite a lot on this drive, and learned more about the animals who live here. One of the noteworthy things about this reserve is that they do not have any resident large predators, other than the occasional passing leopard, and they also do not have elephants. These things have a significant impact on on the way the reserve is managed, on the landscape, and on the behavior and success of animals like jackals and brown hyenas (who will often scavenge off the kills of lions and spotted hyenas in other parks and reserves, like nearby Pilanesberg or Madikwe). What they do have at Mankwe is a huge variety of antelopes, small mammals, birds, reptiles, and smaller predators like jackals and caracals, plus the white rhinos, giraffes, and zebras. There are also nocturnal creatures like genets, honey badgers, bush babies, and porcupines. On our first drive we encountered waterbucks, tsessebe (another new type of antelope for us), vervet monkeys, kudus, a tiny steenbok bolting away in surprise, a herd of galloping wildebeest, impalas, and elands. We also saw one of the two male rhinos, and were introduced to him by name. This one was Patrol, who is notorious for knocking down every sign he finds—Lynne said they have to hang road signs in the trees to foil him in this little game. We also drove past Louis’ “vulture restaurant,” where he puts out carcasses and camera traps, and studies the huge birds from a hide. On our way back to camp, we spotted a jackal trotting through the grass. It was good to get this initial overview of the reserve and its wildlife, as it would be one of three different places where we’d be gathering data for brown hyena research (the other two being Pilanesberg National Park, which is also fenced but does have large predators including lions, leopards, wild dogs and cheetahs; and Kgaswane Mountain Reserve, which does not have the predators or the variety of animals found at Mankwe).

Before dinner, my husband helped to shoo a bat out of the chalet, where it had decided to take up residence in the ceiling and completely freak out our youngest volunteer. He was able to use a badminton racket to block the bat’s path as it was flying around the room, eventually steering it out the door and into the night sky. This little game of “bat-minton” was a funny was to kick off our stay here (and don’t worry, no bats were hurt in the process).

Dinner was the first of many delicious feasts involving local game (although we did have a few vegetarians in the bunch, this is definitely not your project if you aren’t okay with the concept of game meat)—in this case, it was wildebeest stew. We brought our bottles of Madikwe wine to share, and after dinner we all lingered around the table and each person talked a little bit about themselves and why they’d chosen to work on this project. Eventually the conversation moved outside to the campfire, a bright spot of warmth in a bitterly cold winter night. The sky was a riot of stars over our heads, and I was already feeling like I was beginning to have friends here. I couldn’t wait to jump right in and start working tomorrow—to start experiencing Africa in a whole new way.