Safari Adventure: Chapter One

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I believe I can see that rhino just fine from inside the bus, thank you.

I had been here for eight months, and whenever Noah (otherwise known as the cutest grandson on the face of the planet) asked me what animals I had seen so far, he heard the same tired litany:  cows, goats, and chickens.  I don't think that was the list he was hoping to hear from a grandmother living in Uganda.  In fact, I was beginning to suspect that he was perhaps a tad unimpressed, so I was overjoyed when Julie Reagan, a teacher at the MK mission school, invited me to go with her parents and her on a three-day safari at Murchison Falls Game Park.  Safari!  That means animals, right? Specifically, African animals that wouldn't look anything like cows, goats, and chickens, right?  I was so overjoyed, in fact, that I didn't bother to get the less important details, such as exactly what we would be doing for three days.  I just packed my bags and hopped in the car.  Murchison Falls and all you gorgeous animals that AREN'T cows, goats, or chickens, here comes Mzungu Mama!

Day one of the safari began as most adventures do in Africa:  with a long drive that starts way too early.  So early, in fact, that Abus, our driver and travel guide for the safari, arrived at exactly 5:55 am, just as Julie and I, the seasoned Ugandan residents, were in the middle of explaining to her parents that nothing ever starts on time in Africa so there was no need to rush to get ready by 6:00 am.  (By the way, Abus evidently did not know any of the rules involving punctuality in Africa, because he not only arrived five minutes early that first day, he spent the next three days trying to make us Mzungu hurry up.) 

It was only after we'd gotten everything loaded and were well on our way -- as in, past the point of no return -- that it occurred to me to request a safari itinerary. Julie happily laid out all the fun and exciting things in store over the next three days: Rhino tracking in the wild, game park tours in a pop-top van, riverboat excursions on the Nile, a visit to Murchison Falls, visiting chimps at the Jane Goodall Institute, a beautiful rainforest lodge to retire to -- it all sounded enchantingly exotic...unfortunately, I didn't quite take it all in.  My mind kept getting stuck on the first enchantingly exotic item on the list: rhino tracking in the wild. Rhino tracking?  In the wild?  I mean, wasn't there some way to do it in the tame?  ("Yes, there is.  It's called the zoo.")  

I spent the next two hours mentally composing brief, but intensely moving, final words to say as they carried me out of the bush on a stretcher. I had just come up with something guaranteed to make me posthumously famous for a week at least -- perhaps more if Reader's Digest picked it up -- when I realized Abus was slowing down the bus.  (Yes, we had a lot of fun with his name.)  There by the side of the road were several monkeys.  Really cute, photogenic monkeys, and they didn't look anything like cows, goats or chickens!  I forgot my impending doom long enough to snap a photo or two for Noah. 

(As always, click on the image to get a high-res version.)  

Is it just me, or do monkeys tend to look faintly disdainful?

Of course, this meant that we were getting close to the game park.  Sure enough, soon we were pulling into Ziwa Rhino Sanctuary. Abus introduced us to Ogencan and Richard, our guides for the rhino tracking, then he solemnly shook everyone's hands and climbed back in the van, declining an invitation to go along.  Hmm.  The guides requested that we sign a "guest book."  Right.  If this is a guest book, why is there a space to write down "next of kin"? 

Before we began the actual trek, the guides explained that rhinos had been hunted to near-extinction in Uganda, not just by mzungu but, sadly, by Africans as well, especially during the Idi Amin era.  Rhinos are still a severely endangered species, so much so that countries such as the US are sending rhinos back here to help with repopulation, which currently stands at a mere six rhinos.  I discovered that Disney has contributed two rhinos to the re-introduction program, a bit of information that seemed vaguely comforting.  I mean, it's rather difficult to imagine being attacked by a Disney rhino.  I decided to try to relax and enjoy the experience.

Disney's everywhere!

After making sure their walkie-talkies were in working order, the exciting moment had arrived:  Richard and Ogencan led us out into the African bush to track rhinos.  Of course, Richard and Ogencan did all the tracking.  We mzungu mostly just tried to keep up while avoiding natural hazards.  

In case you've always wondered, here is what the African bush looks like.

I know.  Bit of a letdown, isn't it?

After about a twenty-minute hike, our tracking efforts led us into a wooded area.  Richard slowed his pace and began softly calling, "Nande, Hasani...Nande, Hasani."   He explained that rhinos don't like to be surprised, so it's best to announce your presence by calling their names.  We were tracking white rhinos, which are relatively good-natured (unlike the decidedly cranky black rhino), but they can get provoked enough to charge.  Some of my original trepidation returning, I asked what should we do on the, ahem, off chance that a rhino charged.  Richard replied, "Don't worry.  You can call their name to try to calm them down, or you can climb a tree.  Rhinos don't climb trees."  I did not find this information particularly reassuring.  One, I hadn't yet been formally introduced to any of the rhinos; two, I couldn't climb a tree unless my life depended on it -- oh, wait.  Counting on the fact that terror would give me hitherto undeveloped skills, I spent the rest of the jaunt loitering around whatever tree was closest, trying to look nonchalant.

By now we were definitely in rhino territory.  After warning us to stay quiet (a totally unnecessary admonition), Richard and Ogencan led us to first one rhinoceros, then another, until finally we were within a few feet of all six rhinos -- excuse me, I mean a few hundred feet.  But take my word for it, it seemed like a few feet.  

I was casually leaning against a tree, trying to decide if these rhinos really looked white, when suddenly it hit me:  I, Mary Beth Bodiford, a grandmother from Fort Worth, Texas, was standing in the middle of Ugandan bush country, staring at a rhinoceros.  Was this cool or what?  Why was I wasting one minute being scared?  I would have burst into tears of joy, but since I didn't know where crying fell on the "Rhino Provocation Scale," I decided that perhaps I should content myself with taking a few photographs.

Click to get high-res, then try to count the rhinos.

A closeup -- at least, as close as I'm going to get.

Hello from Ziwa Rhino Sanctuary!

(Please note the rhino directly behind me.)

After we had had adequate time to bond with the rhinos and had taken about a zillion photos, Richard and Ogencan shepherded us back to Abus, patiently waiting for us in the van. Was it just me, or did he seem faintly surprised to have the same number of people return as had left?  In any case, we gave our heartfelt (in more ways than one) thanks to Richard and Ogencan, climbed in the van, and set off on the next stage of our safari adventure!

Richard and Ogencan

Chapter Two: "Watch out for those rocks, Mzungu Mama! They're very slipp -- never mind."