Kruger

Kruger National Park got its start in 1898 when Paul Kruger, President of the Transval Republic (which in 1910 joined with the Orange Free State, Cape Colony and Natal to form the Republic of South Africa) placed an area now in the southern part of the park under protection. It was then nurtured into existence by its first warden, James Stevenson Hamilton, whose mandate was apparently to make himself a “damned nuisance” to the park's opponents (mainly hunters and farmers, I assume).

Today Kruger is the crown jewel of the South African park system, comprising 20,000 square kilometers of grasslands and scrubby bush, and boasting the largest variety of animals of any park in Africa. It is also the breadwinner for the whole system, supplementing many of less profitable parks with the income generated from its one million annual visitors.

Fellow IISD intern Laurel and I took a couple days off work last week and spent a long weekend in Kruger. We entered the park at the northern end (actually looks more like the centre on the map, but everyone refers to it as the north - should sound familiar to 99% of Canadians) and then over three days worked our way south from camp to camp. Kruger has a large network of camps, from the fully stocked variety (there are about a dozen of these) with restaurant and bar, gas station, the odd swimming pool, and a wide range of accommodations, to more rustic set-ups with nothing but “safari tents” (canvas huts) and bathroom facilities. We spent a couple nights in our own tent at the bigger camps, and one in a safari tent, which was pretty deluxe by comparison (comfy beds, fridge - for which we had no use; I unplugged it before going to bed - and patio).

We quickly settled into the Kruger routine, which involves rising at between 4:15 and 5:00 a.m. (the excitement of going in search of animals made this less grim than I had expected) and heading out onto the road as soon as the gate opens (5:00 if you go on a guided drive, which we did once; 5:30 for the general public). Because of the relative abundance of animals that can eat you in Kruger, you're confined to the enclosed camps at night (apparently you are fined if you arrive after lock down, but I can't confirm this as we always arrived with a good three or four minutes to spare), and with the exception of a very few view points and picnic spots are not allowed to leave your car. We would then spend the day driving around in second gear and peering, unblinking, into the bushes. I got pretty good at driving for quite extended periods of time without actually looking at the road.

The thing that struck me first about Kruger, and this was accentuated by the aridity of the area we entered in at, was the desolation of the place. Everything seemed, well, dead. Small scratchy trees, scorched earth and a tar road were all we could see when we came through the gate. It was pretty bleak compared to the lush rainforests of home, and I wondered how it could sustain much life at all. Then within about five minutes we came across a couple giraffes grazing ten feet from the road. Half a kilometer further on, elephants. Then a herd of buffalo. Then impala, one of the most beautiful of the park's many deer species, everywhere. It was unbelievable.

It was hard for me to be in Kruger for the first time, though, without being a little bit obsessed with “The Big 5” - so-called as the five most dangerous animals in Africa to hunt on foot. These are the leopard, lion, hippo, rhino, and Cape buffalo. I recall backpacking through Europe ten years ago with my tick list of must sees - the Mona Lisa, David, Eiffel Tower, Blue Mosque, Acropolis etc. - and I had a similar fixation on the Big 5: until I had seen them all, I wouldn't be able to relax and just enjoy the place and the experience in their entirety. This is a pretty narrow-minded approach to visiting any new place, and cherry picking from the wild seems particularly absurd, but there it is. So although I got a pretty good feel for Kruger in the end, and loved it, I hope I have the chance to go back when I will be more receptive to all that this magnificent park has to offer.

All that being said, on to the hunt!! The tricky ticks were the cats. We saw our first lions about 100 feet off the road in long grass. Up until then I had been looking pretty intently for lions, but after this first sighting, when I realized they were next to invisible unless on the move or lying next to a line of cars, I let up a little. In this case, we joined three or four other cars and sat, for about 45 minutes, peering through our binoculars to catch glimpses of mane, paw, or exciting moments of action such as a stretch or yawn. Lions spend up to 20 hours a day sleeping, which is the perk, I guess, of being king of the jungle (or savanna). The difficulty in seeing them enhanced, I thought, the magic of being with these animals in the wild, and even from a distance and inside the car it was pretty exciting. We were told there were as many as a dozen lions in this particular pride, though we could only make out four or five. We also saw lions – two mothers and some cubs – much closer to the road at the end of the trip.

We saw a leopard on a guided night drive from one of the camps. He or she was injured, unfortunately - possibly had a run-in with a porcupine - and we watched him/her quietly for five or ten minutes sitting in the bushes just off the road, licking his/her wounds. Needless to say, we couldn't tell if it was male or female, or somewhere in between! Also spotted a leopard resting in a tree on the other side of the Oliphant's River - looked pretty comfy, curled up on a big branch not far off the ground. The dead duiker in a tree that you will see if you go to the photos link was put there by a leopard. It had been there for some days when we saw it, however, and seemed as though it had been abandoned. Leopards are opportunistic hunters, killing prey when they have the chance and storing them in trees or some other private spot. Our guide said he once saw three different deer species, all leopard kills, sitting up in the same tree! In this case the duiker was in a tree right on the road, so the leopard may have been discouraged from coming back to eat it for that reason.

Finally, for the cats, our big breakthrough into Land of the Lucky came on our last morning when we encountered a mother Cheetah and four cubs. Our guide, Jan, hadn't seen Cheetah in a month, so I felt pretty blessed to see them this morning, hanging out on the plain and playing together. But that was just the beginning! For the following 45 minutes or so we watched in what, really, was awe, as mother stalked a group of impala that were grazing three or four hundred metres away. There was very little vegetation on the flat plain between her and them, so she had a pretty tough job ahead of her. The space was so flat and open, and here we were watching the fastest creature on earth staring down her prey, that I felt as though I was sitting on the edge of a runway, waiting for a jet to take off!

Shortly, the impala crossed the road in front of us, so mother Cheetah shadowed them behind us into more favorable, bushy terrain. At this point a number of the impala seemed to catch wind of her, but she just stood her ground and they continued grazing. The cheetah never spared us a glance throughout, but I wondered if perhaps we and other cars that had arrived were a distraction (visual or olfactory) to the impala. In any case, the tension in our safari jeep rose, and there was almost no sound from the 15 or so of us this whole time, as predator and prey converged in tiny increments. Once a cat has targeted the animal she is going for she won't let her eyes off it, even if other animals come closer or pass in front of her and her target. So as the group of impala started moving on a diagonal past her she lay and waited, having crept as close, I suppose, as she thought she could.

In the middle of this drama Jan took us a couple hundred metres down the road, where a spotted hyena was lying in the shade, and then returned five minutes later. His timing was perfect, as the cheetah burst into action just as we arrived. My heart is speeding up just thinking about it!! It was over in fifteen seconds, and in fact the impala won the race. Barely. The cheetah was upon it in seconds, accelerating to close the gap between them incredibly quickly (considering that the impala would've been getting up to about 60km/hr). But I guess that was the easy part, because then they weaved back and forth as one for a number of seconds before disappearing into the bush. Shortly after we knew the outcome when we saw cheetah back on the prowl. Within only 20 minutes or so she'd be able to take another go at it, but of course the impala were aware of her now, so we’re not sure how she did later that day.

So there it is. I'll almost certainly never get another 15 seconds like that again in my life, but I think the moment is seared into my memory! And all in all it is a trip that will stay with me. It was just such a special experience, watching animals all day in the wild. And such animals! Rhinos, elephants, zebra, giraffes, hippos, lions, leopards, cheetah, impala, kudu, nyala, warthog, hyena, waterbuck, wildebeest, buffalo. I could have sat and watched any one of them all day. And then there were the birds! Eagles, storks, heron, starlings, vultures...the more I think about it, the more it sinks in what a wonderful place Kruger is, as I'm sure is any such place that excludes humans for the benefit of others. Of course, Kruger is riddled with roads and dotted with camps, but it seemed to me in my short time there that perhaps other animals can deal with that. The fact that a pride of lions would lie beside a road all day long - and the procession of cars would not have ceased for a moment - when they could just as easily have walked half a kilometer away out of sight, suggests that, when people are quiet and respectful, they can indeed share space with other creatures.

Finally, I haven't had too many “I'm in Africa!” moments since coming to Pretoria - which sort of just happens to be located in Africa - but this was certainly one of them. We were in the car all day long, but we were on the earth. We passed over savanna and along riverbanks and beds, into sunsets and wind, in the heat and the cold. I don’t know about tracing my ancestry back to Africa - I think the blood must be a little thin by now - but it nonetheless felt rooted, and rejuvenating. So much life began on this continent, but it was, and still is, a hell of a place for humans to build civilizations. As a result such a wealth of the planet’s most magnificent creatures have managed to survive all the way to the age of conservation, and for that I am very, very grateful.

More photos here: http://ca.pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/philipkakins/album?.dir=/4188

Durban

I drove 1,500km with friends to Durban and back this weekend and having nothing but this lousy photo to show for it! So not a photogenic weekend, but another great one all the same. Durban, down on the east coast by the Indian Ocean, is apparently the least racialy segregated city in South Africa. If I remember by stats correctly, it also has the largest port in Africa, and 9th biggest in the world. Finally, it is home to a large East Indian population (= delicious curry lunch on Saturday), sandy beaches, and great waves. It was such a joy to see the ocean again, to get off the land, I screamed like a child the first time I jumped in and got knocked around, I was that happy. The weather wasn’t great, but the water was warm, and when I wasn’t on the beach I sat overlooking it from the patio of the hostel.

So instead of getting a nasty sunburn, as expected, I got through the last of the SA books I brought with me from home: “Disgrace,” by J.M. Coetzee, which is a rather sombre reflection on human relationships and racial tension in post-apartheid South Africa, which won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1999. I’ve been doing quite a bit of reading here - one of the benefits of early nights behind locked gates - which is pretty much the greatest thing ever after the year and a half of servitude to academic papers in grad school.

Also became acquainted with “White Africans” at the bar: two shots each of amarula, vodka, and coffee liquere - delicious, but after the second I was pretty much ready for bed.

I wasn’t sure I’d make it to Durban, and don’t suppose I’ll get back there, so I was happy for this chance to go down with a group of friends and spend a couple days by the sea with no plan and not much to do but relax.

Stay tuned for next week’s posting on KRUGER!

Drakensberg - Cathedral Peak

Hiking in the Drakensberg this past weekend was the highlight of my time in SA so far. It was heaven! The Afrikaans word means 'Dragon Mountains', whereas the Zulu named the place Quathlamba - 'Battlement of Spears'. I will leave it to the photos to share with you how beautiful this area is - with much effort I have managed to reduce these down to about 30 from the over 100 that I took!

Friday afternoon Camilla, Pieter and I drove through Jo'burg to pick up Laurel (a new IISD intern from Ontario), got lost in the city for a bit, and then continued five hours south-east into KwaZulu Natal province. The Drakensberg form the border here between SA and Lesotho - soaring walls of wide green slopes and basalt summits. It rained on and off all day Saturday as we walked six hours straight up into the clouds, but it was so warm that we always managed to dry out between the wet spells, and when we made it to camp in the evening all of the important things in our bags were still dry. The trail itself was fantastic. Lots of steep climbs, but a good long section in the middle of almost level ridge walking, with fantastic views up at the mountains, down into the valleys, and of the flowers at our feet. We even saw some baboons, screaming at us from above after we scared them off the trail, which shook me from the sense that I was home hiking in Canada!

Camp was at Bell “Cave” - actually a large overhang on a steep slope directly beneath Cathedral Peak. Nothing special, except that it provided us with much-appreciated shelter from the weather, which began to turn downright stormy by evening. We drowned our sorrow, at the loss of what would have been an amazing view from the cave, in bottles of Amarula and Whisky, while jumping around trying to keep warm. I lost the pot lid to the wind, which pulled a fast one on me by first drawing me away from the stove to run after the metal wind guard, and then seized the lid and whipped it out of site around the corner while I stood flat-footed and cursing. We retreated early for much-needed sleep.

Sunday morning Pieter and I scrambled up to the summit, which was the cherry on top of a wonderful weekend. Cathedral (3,004m) was first climbed in 1917. I love scrambles, and this was a great one. A couple of delicate, exposed spots where slipping was out of the question, but otherwise good, secure, heart-pounding, quad-burning climbing. And the view at the top!! We got lucky with the weather, which closed in as we were descending, and had clear views all around. Again, check out the photos - it was spectacular.

A long walk back to the car and Monday morning my legs were SORE! But they will recover, and a few more trips back to the Drakensberg - including Lesotho - are an absolute must. This is a South African treasure.

Photos here: http://ca.pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/philipkakins/album?.dir=/3bc2

Soweto

If you've heard of any township in South Africa you'll know of Soweto (originally an acronym - SOWETO - for southwestern township), which rocketed onto the world (and, more to the point, South African) stage as the heart of black consciousness and resistance to Apartheid in the mid 1970s, and today is the biggest township in the country with a population of over 3.5 million. Soweto is a symbol, if not a synonym, for the struggle against the institutionalized racism, discrimination, and brutalization of Apartheid. In 1976, during a demonstration by some 15,000 students opposed to the enforcement of Afrikaans as a requirement in school, over one hundred Sowetan children and teenagers were killed by the police. Survivors were chased, beaten, arrested, and tear-gassed by Mig jets. Although it ended in a massacre, the event revealed an irreversible tide of mass resistance among the black population, and a public revelation that could not be ignored by the world. It was still almost twenty more years of ruthless repression, countered by strikes, protests, international condemnation and ostracization, and terrorism, before the majority of South Africans were granted equal rights (including the right to an education in their own language - South Africa is perhaps a record-holder with eleven official languages today), but the “power” that was mobilized in Soweto marked the beginning of the end of Apartheid.

I went with friends to a party in Soweto this weekend. It was a joint six-year anniversary for a local backpacker's hostel (one of several that have sprung up recently to accommodate growing numbers of domestic and international pilgrims to this fabled township) as well as the 30th birthday of the hostel's owner, Lebo.

There was some anxiety in our car when we got lost immediately upon entering Soweto, a degree of stress-induced irritation at the complete absence of street signs, and perhaps a touch of what might have been fear at the approach of a rather large man shouting something about “kaka” and pointing at us (we think he might have felt we almost ran over his kids). However, we made it to Lebo's safe and sound, where we found ourselves in an oasis of calm amidst the rush and rabble of Johannesburg proper. The party was great, though the sleep was less so. I shared a tent in the garden with Thomas, a new German friend, and there couldn't have been more than half an hour between when the music and shouting finally stopped, and when the most insistent rooster I have ever wanted to lay my hands on started crowing about a foot from my head.

In the morning (I was up before 7 and keeping company with the brain teaser section of the Walrus magazine, but those with a cement wall between themselves and Insistent Rooster got an extra 2 or 3 hours) Lebo took us on a good long walk around town. We stopped first at the Hector Pietersen memorial, which commemorates all of the young people who died in June 1976. A famous picture of the dying Hector became a powerful image of Apartheid and the struggle against it. It was a special opportunity to learn about Soweto's history for Lebo, who had actually been on the streets on that day - a baby on his grandmother's back.

From there we went by the houses of three famous South Africans: Nelson Mandela (who lived there before going to prison, and returned very briefly upon his release), Desmond Tutu, and Winnie Mandela, who still lives in a mansion in Soweto, under the protection of more bodyguards than Thabo Mbeki, according to Lebo!

A good piece of trivia: Soweto's Vilakazi Street is the only road in the world that was home (at the same time no less) to two Nobel Peace Prize winners (Mandela and Tutu).

It was an eye-opening weekend, and spending the time in Soweto has made me feel a little more connected to, and comfortable in this country. Much of this, I think, has to do with all the local people we met at the hostel and on our walk - greeting us from across the street with warm smiles and “Welcome to Soweto!!” I felt really content and down to earth while I was there. Watching kids playing soccer (flat ball; one end of the field a good 20 feet higher than the other). Chatting with Charles, big tooth missing, blue coveralls, sad eyes, who stayed up all night keeping watch over the cars parked outside. Insistent Rooster. Teddy, or Freddy, drunk, who had a life story to tell but never quite came around to it. Lebo's brother, Philip, who joined me on a bench in the early morning, and promptly fell asleep after taking a go at one of the brain teasers for about three minutes. Staying warm beside big charcoal fire. There is a little less of the unknown in South Africa this week than there was last, and I am eager to get out there again to peel back a few more layers!

More photos here: http://ca.pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/philipkakins/album?.dir=fcf7

Also, notice the mine tailings in the background of the photo above. These "hills" dominate the horizon everywhere in Johannesburg.

Union Buildings

Only the executive branch of government is located in Pretoria's Union Buildings, up on a hill overlooking the city. Parliament sits in Cape Town. So I haven't been able to revive the habit I acquired in Ottawa of visiting the MPs to watch them hurl recited insults and accusations at one another (and to see if they're as pathetically, embarassingly immature as their counterparts in Canada).

I had hoped to have a proper walk around the buildings (I can't actually confirm that there is more than one, but they're referred to in the plural so I presume there are), but that doesn't appear to be allowed.

I haven't been doing a good job of following politics while I've been here, but one recent event caught my attention and is worth passing on. Last month there was a two-week “Floor crossing”period, which I believe might have been the first implementation of some new legislation. During this time MPs (and MLAs) were free to cross the floor of the House from their own party to any other party of their choice. As one can imagine, there were many whisperings and secretive negotiations that took place leading up to this time, all of which came across as pretty undemocratic to me. The great irony of the whole thing was that, whereas the legislation was introduced by the opposition parties, the big winner was the governing ANC (African National Congress) which won something like 10 new seats, 5 or so at the federal level. None of the opposition parties did well from the process, and for some it was a calamity. Incredibly (for this Canadian intern, fresh from reading a number of books on the history of South Africa) the New National Party, succesor to the all-powerful National Party that ruled from ‘48 to the end of apartheid in '94, was unceremoniously wiped away. The party had been reduced to one seat in the last election, and the lonely MP slunk across the floor to, I believe, the ANC, which now has well over two thirds of seats in the House.