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TM
In the Jungle
Of soul-homes, sky-temples and safaris
A young Pakistani traveler’s unforgettable first encounter with Africa
By Menel Ahmed
I don’t know where we were, but for the first time since
the beginning of the safari, we saw a sign of other human beings – a speck of
white parked about thirty miles ahead, with ant-sized heads popping out from on
top, looking with great interest at something in the grass. We made our way
there. And as we approached the other jeep, we saw with our own eyes what it was
that those people were gaping at.
Lions.
Six lions.
Lolling about in the grass, barely a 100 yards away from us.
Ripping the flesh off what looked like a wildebeest carcass.
It was unbelievable. Nobody spoke anything – nobody even
breathed. All you could hear was the sound of wind rustling through the grass,
and the grunts and chomps of the lions as they devoured the wildebeest.
I was transfixed. It was possibly the most thrilling moment
of my life. I was tingling. They were beautiful. They were
terrifying, merciless, wild. I was hypnotized by them, watching them
gnaw hungrily at the mangled carcass, their mouths crimson with blood. It was a
fresh kill – the lionesses had pounced upon this wildebeest perhaps only minutes
before our arrival. There were three lionesses, two cubs, and one male, a young maneless who was dominating the meal. He was a budding chauvinist, grabbing the
meatiest morsels and snarling nastily at any one who tried to sneak a better
bite. It was macabre, and gruesome, and fascinating. Fear had completely
vanished from my mind, for fear is of the future, and at that moment there was
no future – just the present, raw, throbbing, feral.
We had seen the first of the African Big Five.
***
Some people would think that a safari isn’t really such a
big deal, when you can see all the same animals, and many more, at any good zoo.
Now I don’t approve of zoos, or any kind of captivity for wild animals,
especially predators. But admittedly, zoos are fun, and comfortable, and
convenient, and safe. Not until this trip, however, did I realize how
incredible it is to see the animals in their natural habitat.
Their territory, their domain, not behind metal bars and man-made
barriers, not controlled and dictated by our rules and requirements, but
free, just as they were born, uninhibited. Man becomes insignificant in
that world – nothing more than an odd, harmless-looking creature occasionally
seen roaming aimlessly about the savannah. Not worth noticing, really (unless a
lion happens to be really hungry, or the buffaloes are peeved about
something, or the rhino is just being himself). Of course, if you do something
silly, like catcall a lion (pun unintended!), or scowl back at a buffalo,
or heckle at a hyena (because they’re just so ugly and heckle-able!), or
generally try to act cool with any of the animals, even the (usually)
mild-tempered elephants, then you’re seriously asking for it – we have to
remember that in the savannah, in the jungle, we are essentially powerless, at
the mercy of the animals, as it were. It is that risk, that
unpredictability, that very chance of anything happening, that makes the
safari such an exhilarating experience.
So even though we didn’t see all of the Big Five –
namely, the lion, leopard, elephant, buffalo and rhino – and I had dearly wanted
to see the leopards (them being my second-most favorite big cat, after tigers),
it didn’t matter so much – I just made up my mind that I would keep
coming back here, again and again, until I did see them.
And, in all fairness to Masai Mara, we saw so many other
things in that one afternoon, that even David was impressed, deciding that we
were we were definitely a providential lot. For what do you think happened our
way right after we crossed the lions?
A long, lean, strapping young cheetah, elegantly lunching
on some juicy antelope. Compared to lions, cheetahs are rather sophisticated,
civilized animals - a bit standoffish maybe (unlike lions, cheetahs usually
roam about on their own, once they reach the age of 18 months, and only come
together with other cheetahs to mate), but not half as vicious and bloodthirsty.
That may have to do with the fact that cheetahs are not man-eaters, and, at
least in my opinion, the real joy for a cheetah is the hunt, not the kill
itself. As far as lions go, I imagine that they will attack anything even
remotely edible, being excessively greedy animals. It doesn’t matter to them,
whether it’s young, or sick, or defenseless, or even one of their own kind –
they just want to feel powerful and get meat to gnash their teeth through.
Now cheetahs – cheetahs are just cool. This one was
sitting there, calmly forking through his meal when we approached. He glanced
up for a moment at the sound of the jeeps, saw nothing of interest, and
nonchalantly resumed his lunch. He was a rather handsome fellow, that cheetah,
and I think he knew it too – he’d stand up now and again, for no apparent
reason, stretch his legs, pirouette, and then curl back up on the ground, making
sure he was photographed from all angles.
But the funniest was the cheetah’s
12-membered vulture entourage, positioned in a semi-circle at a respectful
distance. This scavenger-convoy accompanies cheetahs everywhere, dutifully
clearing away leftovers while the cheetah catnaps for a few days (pun
unintended, again!). And so we left the cheetah, snoozing contentedly in the
cozy winter sun, the birds already at work, and the rhythm of nature
uninterrupted ever since the world began.***
We saw families of elephants, complete with
moms, dads, babies, and various friends and cousins, strolling right up to our
jeep without a fear in the world; we passed through a sea of enormous black
buffalo (which was probably the scariest part of the whole safari), staring at
us glassy-eyed like they needed no encouragement whatsoever to attack (in
fact, David told us, when it comes to humans, buffaloes have a history of being
even more aggressive than lions!) We saw a sweet giraffe couple happily sharing
a leafy branch, and we saw a few stupid-looking spotted hyenas pretending to be
lions. We didn’t get a chance to drive up to the Mara River to see the rhinos
and hippos, and it was still too early for the great river-crossing (which takes
place about August, when hordes of zebra and wildebeest migrate to
Masai Mara
from the Serengeti plains), but that again is something I’ve saved for next
time.
We had to turn back for the Lodge when evening fell, and
were seen off at the gates of the game reserve by a baboon sentinel perched on
top of an umbrella-thorn acacia. The night was very cold, we filled
ourselves up with hot soup at the buffet, pulled on all the clothes we’d
brought, snuggled under the dark green covers of our beds, and slept soundly to
the symphonies of the jungle night.
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