14 - And More Rain!!

Can’t believe it’s another rainy day today. After a week or so of the normal freezing morning, burning afternoon, freezing night and clear skies, the rain returned. It’s been lightly raining or drizzling all day today. We went out this morning despite the weather to check on the leopard baits for David the hunter, who has had a really great hunt so far and has bagged amazing specimens of buffalo, hippo, nyala, zebra, bushbuck and giraffe. The family has another 4 or 5 days and the leopard which was actually number one on his list is playing hard to get. Of 6 or 7 baits we have scattered around in the bush, only 3 have been hit, and all by females which are technically illegal to kill. So we’re holding out for a male but time is running short. And although the rain makes for beautiful scenery it really spoils the hunting. And makes for a freezing cold ride on the back of Quinn’s Toyota Hilux.

David left me 3 days ago to go down South with Tokkie. The two of them have been shopping ever since and are picking up the new clients tomorrow. They will then head further south to hunt a few animals which don’t live here on Threeways and then drive all the way back up here to the ranch. They should be home on Tuesday if everything goes as planned. It’s even more freezing cold down there than it is here and David dislikes shopping nearly as much as I do. Needless to say we’re both excited for this little excursion to be done with.

The day David left I went out with the group hunting in the morning, but by the afternoon I was feeling somewhat sulky and sorry for myself so I decided to take the rest of the day off. I was relaxing in the house roaming around on the internet and flicking through tv channels when I heard 4 shots very close to the house. I called on the radio to see what was going on and my worst fears were realized. They had shot a big bull giraffe. And I wasn’t there to catch it on film. I was very disappointed and felt even sulkier than before but decided I should at least venture out there and get some shots of the result. Nothing nearly as spectacular as it would have been to film the action but I did get some nice photos. And it was fascinating to see the giraffe so up close. It was the first one I’d seen shot and it was an interesting sight. It was a huge animal but it honestly looked much smaller on the ground. It had a very strong herbal, almost sagey smell to it and it was covered in scrapes and scars from past fights with other bulls. The sun was down by the time the skin had been removed and most of the meat butchered up so I did not get to see what the giraffe’s insides looked like, but apparently another giraffe needs to be shot sometime in the near future to replace a skin that went bad so hopefully I’ll get to explore the inner workings then.

Every afternoon Mandy has sat by the same water hole waiting for that same eland to come back. Apparently her dad has a different sub-species of eland at home and would like to have one of these ones. So far no luck though. The giant bull has not shown hide nor hair at the waterhole for days now. And there’s almost no chance he’ll show up today with the weather being what it is. The really disappointing thing is that Mandy has only shot one thing since she’s been here, and it happened after everyone came back from the buffalo/hippo hunt down on the concession. Tokkie asked me to stay at Threeways and get some footage of a female hunter for the promo video, but in reality not a whole lot of good advertisement has come of it. I could easily have gone down and seen the buffalo and hippo hunts and still been back in time for the one shot Mandy’s actually gotten off.

She’s hunted every white-tail season with her dad for the past who knows how many years and so she’s undoubtedly a good shot. But you don’t hunt white-tail from the back of a vehicle, or on foot usually so she’s been nervous and timid. David actually was beginning to get frustrated because after 5 days or so she had still not killed anything and it was making him look like he didn’t know what he was doing. The truth was that there were actually a few opportunities in those days where a hunter more experienced in this style of hunting would have had no problem taking. Anyway, the perfect opportunity came while we were out checking the leopard baits one morning. About 150-200 yds down the road, lo and behold a zebra walked out. It stood in the very center of the road almost perfectly broadside and stared at us long enough for Mandy to get settled and get a shot off. It was ever so slightly low, but did the trick and there were hugs and handshakes all around.

So I decided to nap instead of venture back out into the elements this afternoon. It's been lazy and relaxing. Maybe I'll be more productive tomorrow :) Pictures to come soon.

13 - Rain!!!

22 July 2010

Today is one of the most unexpectedly beautiful days we’ve had in a very long time. I woke up this morning at the usual 6 am and decided I was going to sleep in. Poor David had to get up to take the clients out hunting. I pawned off camera duty on him as well and snuggled deeper under the covers. Round about 7:30 my body refused to stay asleep any longer and I rolled out of bed, did some long-overdue tidying up and headed outside.

To my astonishment and great pleasure the sky was overcast with low-hanging grey clouds. The air was still and warm as though insulated by the fluffy cloud blanket overhead. It was also deliciously moist and my pleasure grew as I started walking up towards the house and began feeling little drizzly kisses on my face.

By the time I reached the house the drizzle had turned to light rain and everything was foggy and subdued and beautiful. My hair has returned to its normal state of semi-frizz and my nasal passages which have been tortured by the dryness for the past weeks are finally happy again. I know the rain can’t last forever, but I am sure enjoying it while it’s here. It’s actually a very rare thing to have rain right now, as it’s the middle of the winter dry season.

Anyway, we sent Charlie and Russ (who did eventually succeed in getting his leopard) back to the states a few days ago. It was a sentimental parting as we’d all become good friends and had lots of fun together over the last 2 weeks. The new clients are a small family, mother (Terry), father (David) and daughter (Mandy). The father and Quinn went off to Chikwalakwala yesterday to hunt buffalo, and David is in charge of taking the daughter out for zebra and giraffe. The four of us sat yesterday in a blind next to a waterhole without seeing hide nor hair of zebra or giraffe. We did, however, see a rare and wonderful sight: a bull eland.

It was the first time in my life I was able to actually see an eland’s entire body at the same time. Every other time it has just been a flick of the massive hind quarters as it propelled itself away into the bush, or a glimpse of the upright spiral horns as it hurtled itself away from me. In other words, I’ve only ever seen them running. But yesterday he was totally unaware of our presence in the blind and he magestically sauntered out in the open, wary but unafraid, heading towards the water. I was speechless at the sight of him. Huge, heavy, masculine body covered in a flawless hide the color of dry grass. The muscle rippled and flowed beneath his skin with each step. His face was incredibly intelligent-looking with big bright eyes and thick horns sticking straight up between his ears. His neck was nearly as thick as the rest of his body with a draping dewlap swinging down low to his chest. An incredibly beautiful animal, and an extremely rare sight. There are plenty of them here on the ranch but they are shy and reclusive and do not like lingering where people are. I was secretly glad when Mandy decided she would not shoot it because she was unsure if she had permission from her father to take an eland.

Other than that, not a whole lot has been going on. David has discovered that mahogany is still too hard for his power tools. I think he’s resharpened the chainsaw blade 3 or 4 times already and is beginning to get discouraged. Apparently the wood is easier to cut when it’s still slightly damp, but we only discovered this after days of battling to cut.

I have been dismayed by the gradual deconditioning and disappearance of every ounce of muscle on my body, despite the active lifestyle here, and have put my foot down. There is no gym here or dumbbells or anything so I have taken 2 large plastic bottles and filled them a little past halfway with sand from the river. The bottles have handles on them convenient for lifting in various ways, but also for slipping on to each end of a bamboo pole to use for bench press or squats or biceps curls. We’ll see how long I’m actually motivated to stick with it, but I have succeeded in making my whole body deliciously sore, a feeling I’ve not had in too long a time. So a special shoutout to all you ladies out there in the Berea Curves sticking with it and keeping in shape. You are awesome!

David and I celebrated our 3rd anniversary a couple of days ago. Seems like it’s been much longer than 3 years. We’ve done so much in so little time. Last year I started making an anniversary book on my computer, and now that we have a couple of years behind us it has been so fun to look back and see what we were doing, what we were thinking. Part of the book is for each of us to write a secret message to the other that will be sealed to be opened on our next anniversary, and it was so sweet to open that note from David and read the words that he wrote to me a whole year ago. Can’t wait for next year to read what he wrote this year!

Well as I’ve been writing this the light rain has escalated into a downpour and the roaring on the metal roof of the house is music to my ears. Loving it here in Zimbabwe but can’t wait to get back to tropical rainforest.

12 - Pianos and Croc Hunting

11 July 2010

Well we finished our marathon shopping trip in South Africa and picked up the clients from the Joburg airport. They are Charlie and Russ, both from the south and both hilarious. Charlie somehow got to calling me Elizabeth, and I was going to correct him but I loved how it sounded in his awesome southern accent so I didn’t. He later on found out what my real name is and was somewhat confused as to why I kept letting him call me ‘Lizbeth. Guess he just didn’t understand.

We headed north the next day and were appalled when we arrived at the border. The line to get in to get our passports stamped was half a mile long and probably would have taken us six hours or so to get through had we been required to stand in it. However, Tokkie knows some reliable people at the border who help expedite the process for him in return for an occasional impala or warthog. Sometimes I wish things worked that way in the States.

The day after we got back to Threeways was Sunday. Having discovered there is a church branch in Masvingo we decided to make the trek out there and see what it was like. We showed the address to Tokkie before we took off and he looked at us doubtfully and told us it was in the “townships,” which is another word for ghetto-ish neighborhood full of black people. We were not deterred and made the 2 and a half-hour journey to Masvingo where we were directed to the correct area by a number of different people. We had no idea whether to be looking for a house, store, hovel or some other sort of building as we had heard it was a fairly tiny branch and so we were astonished to spy a very Mormon-ish looking brick building with a steeple on it and a big plaque on the side with Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints written on it.

We pulled through the open gate into the parking lot where there was only one other vehicle: a white truck with the “LDS Charities” logo on the side. We cautiously entered the building and were greeted by a smiley young man in his Sunday best. They were just singing the opening hymn as we made our way to our seats in the chapel. To our surprise there was a white face sitting up behind the pulpit, and another one playing the electric piano. The rest of the congregation was black, but all were nicely dressed and singing their hearts out. It was fast and testimony Sunday and nearly every person in the room got up and bore their testimony. It was a very neat experience and we had a great time. The white couple apparently only made it out to Masvingo once in a month or 6 weeks and so we were lucky to have caught them. They were from Canada and were serving a mission out here, but will be going home in a few weeks.

Back on the ranch, Charlie and Russ have been making life a lot of fun. They love to joke and play around. They’re always making fun of each other, one saying how the other is deafer than a doornail, the other saying he would use the one as leopard bait but the leopard would never come because he smells so bad, and so on and so forth. They actually remind me a lot of David and Sean when they get together. Lots of fun.

Charlie’s main goal was to shoot a croc, and so for the first 4 or 5 days he and Quinn made daily trips down to the Limpopo to find him a good one. On the 2nd day I asked if I could go along and film the hunt. Charlie obviously had some reservations about whether or not I’d be able to keep up and whether or not I would do anything to put his hunt in jeopardy. I reassured him I knew how to handle myself in the bush and after a while he accepted me as part of the group.

When we finally decided which one he was going to shoot, everything happened fairly quickly. Quinn led us down to a small reed patch on the river and we crawled forward slowly until we were in position. Charlie was just taking the first look down his scope and I was still moving into position to get the shot on film. Generally a hunter will take a minute or two to get comfortable and be 100% sure of the shot on a crocodile because the target area is only about the size of a quarter and any mistakes will mean a wounded croc with almost no chance of recovering the trophy. So Quinn was whispering into his ear to take his time and I was lining up to find the best angle to film from when BANG!! The shot took Quinn and I both by surprise. Quinn’s ears were uncovered and my recording of the event was mediocre at best. Apparently all Charlie heard was Quinn tell him to shoot, and so he shot. Deafer than a doornail.

Anyway, the shot was true and after 2 more just to be sure, the croc gave a few last spasms which shook it off the bank and into the water. However, he was in an eddy and was not swept away in the current. All that was left to do was send Fani out in an inflated tire tube with 2 shovels for paddles and some rope to attach to the croc and we had the trophy on the shore. We took plenty of pictures and skinned the thing. I had a lot of fun digging around in its insides and seeing what was there. It was a female and full of eggs and all sorts of other fun surprises. The heart was beating in my hand long after I had cut it out of the chest and sliced each chamber open to see what was inside. Really cool.

I was actually relieved to have the croc hunting over, as it meant a daily 3-hour each way journey in Quinn’s Toyota Hilux pickup truck. Charlie and Quinn of course sat in the cab, and I had to figure out how to make myself comfortable in the bed with the trackers. It was cold and windy and uncomfortable and my eyeballs were constantly at risk from the thorn bushes flying past my face.

Back here at Threeways Russ has been hunting for a week for his leopard. He and Tokkie are sitting tonight in a blind where a bait has been eaten. Hopefully they will be successful. After leopard Russ wants a croc and a hippo. Not excited for another croc, but a hippo might be fun.

One really nice perk about being based at Threeways instead of the concession is my new piano. I worked long and hard to find it while in South Africa, but finally succeeded. At first we went to look at some really nice refurbished upright pianos. The price was decent and they looked and sounded great. The problem was that we were not going to be able to transport any of them back to the ranch that trip. It would have to wait another 2 weeks or so. So I started thinking that maybe an electric piano was the way to go. They are portable, cost about the same, never need tuning and can be resold for nearly the same price without too much hassle. So I called every ad in the classifieds and finally found someone who had a good enough one for a decent enough price. The piano was delivered to us the morning we were leaving South Africa, and I was playing it that night in my room.

I have since relocated the piano to the lounge area where I entertain (in more than one sense of the word) any guests who are there in the evenings. My repertoire is small and simple but I’m working on expanding it. It’s amazing the amount of free sheet music available on the internet. It’s also amazing the difference it’s made in my state of mind. Without music things just never quite feel complete.

11 - Unborn Cows and Snakes on the Toilet

30 June

Well the piano in Musina didn’t work out so great. David, Tokkie and I went across the border to check it out, and to do some other errands and shopping. The crossing was a breeze, surprisingly, except for the part where David and I had overstayed our visas by something like 45 days. But I smiled at the nice man behind the counter and apologized and promised never to do it again and he waived the 500 rand each fee.

We made it to where the piano had been resting for years in a somewhat run-down home on property owned by Tokkie’s best friend Frank. The property had basically become a storage yard for all kinds of might-be-useful-someday junk. It was the kind of place I could have poked around in for hours. I love junk. Especially old junk. So I very eagerly entered the home and was shown to a deserted hallway where the poor piano stood forlornly as it had obviously done for many years. It was a beautiful antique, lovely wood, probably real ivory keys, very finely filigreed with carvings. But obviously not played or maintained for a very long time. I opened it and caressed it in anticipation, but my heart sank at the dreadful sound that came from it as I tested out a chord. I rechecked what notes I was playing just to make sure that it was not human error, played the beginning strains of “A Poor Wayfaring Man.” The melody was unrecognizably out of tune, but in addition to that there were obvious mechanical problems with the instrument beyond simple tuning issues. I almost started crying as I realized there would be no use in bringing home this poor neglected piece. I felt very sad for the poor piano as I gave it a last look over my shoulder and left it standing in its hallway, to remain unplayed for the next who knows how many lonely years.

The next few days on the ranch were spent relaxing, helping out in the office, and digging hard and deep into the mess of cattle records. David and I spent days in the cattle pens putting each animal through the crush to record its identity and take a picture. I got tired of chasing each animal around in order to get a good picture and settled on the method of simply snapping a quick shot as each cow was let out of the chute. Some cows exited sedately and with dignity, making for wonderful photography. Others launched themselves out wild-eyed and kicking. These made for wonderful action shots, although their value for later identification of the animals is definitely questionable.

Once all the animals were inspected, I entered each of them into the BeefPro computer program, reassigning many of them with new numbers to try and get the all onto some sort of sensible system. I then made a worksheet to link each animal’s old numbers to its new ones. This all sounds fairly simple, but it meant long hours at the computer, and was definitely not the most fun part of the trip. But it is necessary and something I said I would do here. I still have to attach each animal’s picture to the respective file, and enter in data about artificial insemination and pregnancy test, which I am now going to say a short word about.

The veterinarian who does the pregnancy determinations (PD’s) for Tokkie’s cattle is one of the most awesome people I’ve met here in Zimbabwe. His name is Oom Japie (pronounced yahpee). He is in his late 70’s, early 80’s, but with a great sense of humor and an incredibly active mind. His personal history was nothing too new to us. . . a Rhodesian farmer born and raised and now just scraping by after his whole life was taken from him during the land grab. He is an infinite well of knowledge about the history of Africa in general, but also the area immediately surrounding Threeways. The stories he told us around the dinner table had all of us youngsters completely enthralled, wide-eyed in wonder. Wild tales of the characters who had inhabited and tamed the veld, of lion hunters and war times and of how things were done back in the day.

But Oom Japie was in his element with the cattle. For anyone who does not know how a cow is tested for pregnancy, allow me to enlighten you. A gloved hand is inserted into the cow’s rectum (sometimes up to the elbow), through which her internal reproductive organs can be palpated for signs of a growing fetus. I was present for the whole 200 something PD’s he did, to record the results. About halfway into it, I was overcome by my curiosity and asked Oom Japie if he had brought an extra glove with him.

Oom Japie seemed actually pleased at my interest and was an excellent and patient instructor. The world inside a cow’s rectum is actually amazingly complex-feeling. During early pregnancy, there are only subtle signs that anything is going on, and I was instructed to search for these signs with “bold, sweeping motions” of my hand. A cow who was around 4 months pregnant was somewhat more obvious, with a small but mobile calf easily felt within the womb. But my absolute favorites were the cows who were 7 months pregnant or more. I could feel the entire calf moving around inside the cow. When I grabbed his little hoof, he would yank it back out of my hand. I held their little heads in my hand, and one of them started nibbling on my finger through the layers separating me and him! It was truly a magical experience, manure and all.

I was sad to see Oom Japie go, but grateful for the stories and hands-on lessons I’d had from him. He will be emailing David and I some articles he’s had published about his research on how the Great Zimbabwe ruins were actually built by Venetians. After he left, we had another dull few days entering more cattle data. A married couple stayed in the camp for a few days. The wife was originally from Japan, the husband from Denmark. They were working for the UN and had traveled all over the world for their jobs. We took them out on a game drive and it was really wonderful to see how they appreciated the wildlife and the beauty of the outdoors. Some people either just don’t see how amazing it is, or don’t think it’s cool to express it, but these two had no qualms about appearing amazed and awe-struck. It was actually quite refreshing.

The next interesting occurrence happened a few days after the UN couple left. I was in the house working on the computer, David got up from the couch to take a potty break. He re-emerged from the bathroom in record time, and told me that I had to come see what was on the toilet. Well, David has tried this ploy on me before and so I was not about to leave what I was doing. He sometimes has a kindergarten-ish fascination with the toilet and all things surrounding it. However, this time he repeated himself and it was obvious he was not trying to trick me into anything disgusting. I got up and cautiously peered around the door into the toilet room and, lo and behold, there was the tail of a snake hanging into the toilet bowl!

I was horrified to think of how many times I had gone to the bathroom that day on that same toilet, and even more so after David coaxed the thing down onto the floor and we discovered it was a spitting cobra!! It was only maybe 2 feet long at most, but it was terrifying to think of the terrible fate David and I had both been spared. David caught the thing and dispatched it with a ballpoint pen through the brain. Since this incident I always take a really good look at the toilet before I take a seat.

My birthday was a lazy, relaxing affair. I slept in late, did some work on the cattle stuff, went for a walk with David, and generally loafed around. David squeezed some fresh orange juice for me, Tokkie and Dirkie brought me some bananas and avocados from town, and then I had the most divine foot massage from David later on that evening. David hates feet, and so it was an especially meaningful gift.

The next day (yesterday) Tokkie was leaving for South Africa. David and I decided that I would go with him. We both would have gone but that would have left nobody at the ranch, and would have made for a crowded ride once we picked up the 2 hunting clients who arrive on the 2nd. I went mainly to do some looking for a good, cheap piano, as well as some music for the hunting videos. And some books. And some tools for bead-making. And a few other odds and ends.

The ride down to SA with Tokkie was long but enjoyable, with the border being the exception. Generally leaving Zim to go into SA is painless and quick. But apparently someone decided recently that everyone who passes through the border must have their name recorded in the system. This one simple change had the effect of bringing the works to a grinding standstill, and the line to get into the immigration building to get an exit stamp took us 2 hours to get through. It was ridiculous and we were both relieved when it was over. The rest of the drive was spent in pleasant conversation, some of it geared towards gleaning information for my book, some of it just pleasant conversation.

Today we shopped. And shopped. And shopped. And anyone who knows me knows how little I enjoy that sort of thing. The perfect piano is still eluding me, and I’m beginning to lean towards a keyboard rather than an actual upright piano, mainly for convenience’s sake.

I have also been on the computer more than I have been in a while. The internet at Threeways is good enough for email, occasional Googling, etc. However, it is not good enough for Limewire or youtube or any other kind of live streaming-type programs. So I have been spending my spare time here in SA at Tokkie’s brother’s house enjoying the world of free music now available to me. I really don’t know how I survive without it.

It’s cold here, and last night I awoke roughly, confused when I rolled over to snuggle with a David who was just in my imagination and nearly fell completely out of bed onto the cold floor. This 4-day trip will have been the longest we’ve been apart from each other for nearly a year. Needless to say I’m very much looking forward to getting back to him.