The real SA

Could my image of South Africa have been anymore wrong??? Could I have been anymore naïve?? Could I have really missed the point of some of the semester’s lectures???

First of all, Niel was a family man who never smoked, cursed only occasionally (usually when talking about politics) and lived in a large home in the middle of town. He had not a pack of dogs, but two, who stayed outside.

I lived in a carpeted, concrete apartment with glass windows, air-conditioning, a TV and DVD player, scalding hot water, and a full functioning kitchen. My sheets were changed weekly by the housekeeper who also washed my clothes 3 times a week in a washing machine.

Diarrhea got me twice for only 1 day at a time, my toilet paper was used when we ran out in the flat and were to lazy to get it from the house. Bottled water? Seriously? I drank from the tap.

Mosquitoes…2 which only 1 of bit me, and then I killed it. Snakes….1 tiny one. Rats….where? Spiders….4. There was a spider that lived above my bed for several weeks, and had been living there before I got there. As the larger animal, higher up on the food chain, I allowed him to be there because I never saw him move, he wasn’t too scary looking, and usually didn‘t invite others over for a party. However, after Faye spotted a massive brown rain spider behind my pillow before bedtime, I had to reevaluate my friend’s position in my life. I noticed that he no longer lived alone but with two young friends. After lots of screaming, jumping on the bed, and Faye’s brave attempts to take out the big guy by herself, we had to call in Alfie to do the job. And in those few moments of terror I made the decision to have the spider above my bed, the gigantic rain spider, and the two new friends exterminated by Alfie’s slipper. Sorry for the one spider, but I had told him under no condition was he allowed to bring guests.

We didn’t help anyone’s tribe, receive goats as payment, work in any national parks or reserves, and certainly didn’t use satellite phones. Communication was accomplished by means of …..cell phone? Everyone has a cell phone and no one hesitates to answer their phone at any time: during dinner, right before darting an animal, while the vet is asking you questions about your $20,000 sable‘s nervous symtoms….really, anytime is a good time. Cell phones are even more important to have because you never know when the land line to your home or office will be cut because someone stole the copper wiring to make bangles like the one I now wear on my left wrist.

All of our work was done on farms or in the clinic. Many of the animals we treated, especially expensive sable, were kept in small camps so we didn't have to look deep in the bush for them. (Except for maybe that day we looked for 5 hours for a sable.) Thinking about it now, most of the antelope we treated were sable for the simple fact that they are worth so much. The rarer the animal, the higher the price. Anyone want an elephant?? SA's got so many they're free. You just have to pay for transport which will cost you about $10,000 (and that's just within the country).

I didn't mention this before, but prior to arriving I had no idea what type of work I would be allowed to do with Niel. The second day I gave an injection to a buffalo. In the weeks that followed I helped stich up a horse, scrubbed in to assist during dog castration, collected blood from a leopard and picked it up (well half, it was really heavy), helped birth calves, held a sable uterus in my hands while it was stiched together, aided in directing a giraffe into a trailor by pulling on the ropes to guide it, lifted heavy antelope, sat on them so they wouldn't escape, post-mortemed 3 buffalos.....the list could go on and on and on.

For me, however, the defining moment of my trip was when I gave my last injections. We were moving a buffalo into a holding pen so we could collect blood and test for disease. (This has to be done before most sales.) Well in the process, the bull had been attacked by two others and now had nasty woulds all over its body -- mainly superficial but seceptible to infection. As a precaution it needed several injections after we had tranquilized it and moved it to the pen. I was standing by Niel, ready to do anything he asked when he handed me a syringe, needle, and bottle of penicillin. "Give him 40 mills," Niel instructed me and he busied himself preparing other things. I hesitated, unsure if he was really asking me to do this completely on my own without watching. This buffalo was being bought for 125,000 Rand. Thats about $17,000. What if I killed it?? But then I went ahead and did it. I had done it countless times under supervision so why not? I knew exaclty how and where to do it: intramuscular in the butt. I returned and he hands me another syringe, this one already drawn up, and tells me to do the same. AND THEN he asks me to show a new student how to give an injection in the neck! Well crap. What would I have been doing if I had stayed for 12 weeks? Never could I have imagined doing any of that.

The bush did extend for thousands of kilometers but there were fences everywhere. 8-foot wire game fences often electrified depending on the type of animals inside, 3-foot barbed wire cattle fences, or 8-foot brick ones around a house. I was always inside somebody’s fence regardless of where I was.

Since being home I have described the game industry to many of you as well as my initial shock by its existence. Basically, because there are people who are willing to pay to hunt animals, there is a profit-driven reason for others to breed them. In retrospect, I don’t think I could have ever understood this or accepted it without going to Africa. But after spending 2 months as an integral part of the game industry, I really respect it. Not only does it fuel the economy for the majority of the Limpopo region but it has conserved many of the beautiful species we see today. Animals that would otherwise die because of disease, drought, and/or human sprawl have proliferated tremendously and their populations often have to be culled. Moreover, because it is an industry and tightly controlled by the government, many conservationists have been able to successfully instate regulations to insure animal protection.

If you didn’t know, I am a huge advocate for gun control. Before SA I had never even touched a gun and simply could not understand why people hunted. “Appalling,” I thought, even though I would gladly eat the meat someone else killed. Now, I think I maybe understand, but I am still an advocate of strict gun control and don’t see the point in killing anything unless the meat is used. Killing just for a trophy to hang on your wall makes me queasy. And hunting should be done on foot; not from a vehicle or behind a blind because then you aren’t hunting, you’re just killing.

It occurred to me that my views had drastically changed and I had become more “accepting” when I met Phillip. Those who know me and my dating history have seen the type of guy I usually go for -- generally not someone who wears only camouflage, most likely has several rifles in his bakkie (pickup), carries an 8 inch knife for skinning and sometimes a pistol, smokes, owns a tractor for his potato and corn farm, has fake license plates and was kicked out of college for selling liquor from his dorm room. Oh yeah, and is a professional hunter for a living. That is Phillip. Although these things are part of who he is, they don’t define him. But before college, probably just a few months ago, I would have written him off as “not my type” and not even talked to him because of his camo and big knife, even if he was sex on legs. Sadly, I would have never learned how he made me laugh, think, and feel like I was on cloud nine. Nor would I have ever been able to admire what a hard working individual he is.

People grow. I am a firm believer that this trip has helped me grow and taught me incredible things about that corner of the world, but I don't know if it would have done that without me being completely wrong about what to expect. (Ha, and I didn't even touch on the politics of South Africa and how those affected me). Looking back, I'm glad my crazy vision was mistaken because while I was there, everyday I thought I was having the best day of my life.