Khaki Fever Nightmare

Arrrrghhhhh!!!! The saying is true…” sometimes it’s easier to fall off a bridge then to fall in love”.  I never thought it would take what feels like a lifetime to find my perfect partner in crime. No one ever mentions how long & arduous the quest really is.  After all, growing up, my “true romance” idols were Cinderella and Snow White. All I needed was a glass slipper and 7 wing men!!! Now that I am inching closer to 40, I have a realists’ approach. The search is on.

What I need is someone who won’t be afraid of the strong independent woman I’ve become and be able to put me in my place, albeit gently, when needed. Let’s face it, a woman in uniform is a turn on for most men but let her speak her mind and take control. EEEESSHHHHHH!!! Watch out!!! Khaki fever may work for the men in this industry but as far as I’m concerned, it’s done diddly squat for me.  

These are the facts: I live, eat and sleep Africa. Am surrounded by the most romantic landscapes in the world with sights beyond compare and only guests to share them with. I love my job and might as well be married to it. I can’t imagine not living in the bush. It’s not to say I wouldn’t give it up for the right man but he would have to be one hell of a guy!!! And before you ask, OF COURSE, I have my “perfect guy” checklist. The truth is I am willing to comprise somewhat but here are the must haves in no particular order.

1.       Be adventurous which doesn’t necessarily mean an adrenaline junkie but rather a "fly by the seat of his pants kind-a-guy”, even if it’s just grabbing a couple of cold beers, going on a walk in the bush to simply sit and watch the sun set.

2.       I’ve dated “the smoker” and realise I am not looking to kiss an ashtray for the rest of my life then again, he would have to be willing to kiss me after a game of “bokdrol spoek” (dung spitting game for those not in the know). Maybe the ash tray isn’t so bad?!

3.       He would have to be ticklish as there is no fun in it when only one partner is at the mercy of the other. And with that, I have now divulged my kryptonite. Use this information wisely.

     4.       Be ambitious – get up and do things not just talk about one day, some day, soonish, etc….  Be a doer as much as a dreamer which means self-motivated but willing to ask for help from his partner in crime.

5.       Must love pillow fights and the odd wrestling match…and occasionally let me believe I have the   upper hand, even if it hurts the ego.

6.       I’ll admit I love cooking but not every day so he would have to impress me with his culinary skills…and I hate to have to say it and risk sounding unpatriotic, but that means more then braai every night unless he is a Master Chef.

7.       He would have to have an adventurous palate….be more then a meat & potatoes guy. He cannot be vegan, vegetarian, gluten intolerant, etc. No squirming or lectures at my enjoying escargots, anchovies, sushi, homemade mushroom soup, crisps, and carbs – oh! lots of carbs!!!

8.       No judging when after a 6-week work cycle, all I want to do is lounge in unflattering clothes the first few days of leave and be a “flat cat” – even if that entails sleeping all day long, indulging in a tub of Häagen Dazs ice cream and watching mindless Netflix series.

9.       Must be the MacGyver (80's TV series) of the bush and adept in first aid as, as much as I enjoy working with my hands, getting dirty, watching things grow and learning how to accomplish things on my own, I am also very accident prone.

10.   I am a coffee addict therefore he must love coffee… in bed as much as I do. I am willing to make as much as receive and he should be too (a touch of honey and milk please).

11.   Be a morning person when the sun shine is beckoning for a day of endless possibilities, an in-betweener when lying in bed all day is a grand idea and occasionally, a night owl. Although I must point out that the bush life has made anything after 2100hrs a late one for me. Call it a hazard of the job.

12.   Have a valid passport. Be an intrepid traveler – enjoy exploring his backyard as much as discovering new places and immersing himself in different cultures. Not be afraid to try new things and convince me to do the same (back rubs & food rewards work best).

13.   Will wrap his arms around me to calm me down. I can be a feisty ball of energy bouncing off the walls like a cat high on catnip but a hug will instantly collapse me into a heap of quiet solitude.

     14.   Can be crazy, goofy and of sound mind in the blink of an eye. Knows it’s ok to not take life or himself too seriously. PS I like to hide and scare people, and will giggle anticipating the reaction.

     15.   Have a horror for small talk. Need I say more?

16.   Love dressing down as much as dressing up. I may live in khakis but I do enjoy being a lady every once in awhile. Yes, I own a dress and have high heel shoes, and they are in the closet next to the khakis and boots.

Ok, so the list may seem ridiculous to some, laughable to others, and unachievable to the rest but it’s what I want and willing to wait for. That being said, I would expect my perfect guy to also have his own “dream woman” list. Don’t deny it, I know they exist.

So why haven’t I found Mr. Right? Well, lets be real, I have my own flaws:  I hate admitting when am wrong but I’ll eventually come around and ask for forgiveness; I am fluent in sarcasm but can laugh at myself; I am strongly opinionated with a sound moral compass;  I get “hangry” and apologise in advance if it’s in an enclosed vehicle on a long road trip (throw some crisps my way); I can be a “chatty Kathy” just don’t take my silence as a sign of anger but rather as a way of my thinking things through before saying something I’ll regret; I have no sense of direction but have met lovely people and found the most amazing places being lost; I can be judgmental but also my own worse critic; I am a classic procrastinator and ironically, extremely impatient, yet combined, made my dream living, a reality.  

Pfew!!! That’s a lot to confess on a first date (am confident Mr. Right is reading this atm) but there you have it. Mr. Right will discover the rest in time. Mwahahaha there’s more??!!! Oops, did I forget to mention I have a hint of mischief in me?! 

 The perfect man may just be a dream and the waiting may seem like forever but I haven’t given up. I want to be needed as much as I need to be wanted. The hard truth is not to hurry love along because nothing good gets away. In the meantime, advice for Mr. Right - heed the #1 golden bush rule…whatever you do, don’t run (and this thing might work out for the both of us, whoever you are, wherever you may be).

It's Raining Cats

The last few days have been absolutely stellar for sightings at my workplace (Umkumbe Safari Lodge in the world famous Sabi Sands Game Reserve) and our guests have enjoyed every moment on drive!!!

To begin, a few days ago, I awoke to the call of a male leopard. Ever the optimist, I thought this as a sign of a good drive ahead. On this particular morning, the sun struggled to peak through the haze but the animals did not disappoint. Not long into the drive, squealing and trumpeting alerted Cameron to the presence of elephants. Through the thicket, they emerged to greet him, as the large breeding herd slowly moved northward to the Sand River.

Jason and I had other plans in mind. Having had our guests with us for a few days now, we were on the hunt for cats or as I like to say, anything with teeth & claws. General game was out in full force on the clearings and in the thickets, and included nyala, kudu, zebra, impala, warthogs, all of which were too relaxed for predators to be around. With everyone on the vehicle in agreement, we carried on with our quest. After an endless search with no spoors to be seen, the alarm calls of the local birds directed my attention to an area I seldom travel. I followed my instinct, and in no time, found an impala ram up high in a Marula tree. A fresh kill could only mean my favourite leopard Nottens was around and likely at her den site on her way back to feed. All eyes and binoculars proceeded to scan the horizon for any slight movement in the grass. Finally, out of the long grass, she emerged in full view, gaze solidly fixed on her prize. Nottens was here!!! I can’t tell you how elated I was. Grinning from ear to ear, my guests and I enjoyed this magical African moment.

 The last five days, have been just as spectacular with Nottens cub playing, gnawing branches, pouncing, climbing trees, suckling, and bonding with his mother. The photographs have been too numerous to post. Not only have we been spoiled with Nottens & her cub, but also a fantastic view of Mashlatine (a large male leopard), two large breeding herds of elephants, a crash of rhinos, journeys of giraffe, a medley of nocturnal creatures, etc… For all of us here at Umkumbe, days like these are like Christmas morning with spotted gift wrap.

To make things even more spectacular, yesterday morning’s drive proved to be one for the record books with 3 different cat species spotted – no pun intended. Not quite finished with our morning coffee, the call over the radio mentioning lions nearby, had all of us guides scrambling to retrieve our guests and coral them all onto the vehicles. We didn’t have far to go, as the Charleston pride were within eyesight of our main entrance. We proceeded to strategically place our vehicles for the best views as this pride readied for the hunt. Adrenaline pumping, hearts racing, we watched all three members stalk, chase and miss our daggha boys (old male buffalos) who were, by the way, quick to have them all running in the other direction. To top it all off, a young female leopard came strolling down the main road and on the way back to the lodge, we were rewarded with a stellar cheetah sighting. All this to say, if that action packed, pre-breakfast excitement didn’t get your heart pumping, you should consider staying home. 

Bush Solitude...So To Speak

Another semester has come to an end. Although exhausted to the core of my being, I am also very proud of my accomplishments thus far.  A few of those to highlights included my first ele approach as driver (a beautiful, relaxed bull), as well as 10 sec timing (cut-off is 15 sec), blind folded rifle loading and cocking exercise during a dry rifle run. The latter is a run-up to my rifle assessment in 5 week’s time. Needless to say, I still have much to learn about the African bush and feel I may never fully understand all of her mysteries. I am, however, as much in love with Africa as I ever was, even if at times, I am frustrated at my inexperience.

This week saw many rivers wash away fencing, damage roads and bridges, widen drainage lines and dams, and even make town inaccessible for a time. With an accumulated 283mm of rain in two days and more forecasted for the week ahead, it was a blessing to be able to leave campus and head on off days.

I am currently based in a small and intimate safari camp, away from all the bustle and hurries of the world. In fact, I have the entire camp to myself for the remainder of my time here. It is a small luxury when continuously surrounded by students on our bush campus. There are no queues for the showers, the excellent cuisine is of my own making and my very spacious room is mine alone.  

Apart from the human solitude, this little camp is inhabited by a variety of small creatures such as the Dwarf Day Geckos, Striped Skinks and Bushveld Lizards that bound across the beams in the open air, boma style kitchen. The sandy area between my room and boma, is a veritable “tableau” of tracks of my most recent night visitors including Kudu (large antelope), Leopard and Vervet monkeys. The loo and outdoor shower stall are no exception when it comes to nature’s subtle signs. A Western Olive Toad has wedged itself in the crook of a cut tree branch, an arm’s length away from my toilet, while a Golden Orb-Web spider has made itself a grand home above the shower head. Nature finds a niche even in the oddest places.

There is a constant cacophony in the bush. In fact, my first morning lie in, I awoke to the calls of the Woodland Kingfisher, the Burchell’s Coucal (which can only signify rain on the horizon) and a host of other sunrise greeters. At the height of the noon day sun, the air thick with humidity, the bush quietens, if only a little. As I’ve stated before, Africa delivers a pleasant assault to the senses. Ironically, as I typed away on my laptop, I was made more aware of my surroundings by the incessant alarm calls of the tree squirrels, the snapping of twigs in the underbrush, and will admit to being briefly startled when a Grey Headed Bush Shrike (bird) landed at my feet to feast on its captured grasshopper. An explorer at heart I may be, but I have also gained a healthy respect for the African bush.  

Part of exploring is knowing when to call it a day. My end of day adventure included a hop, skip and a jump across the seasonal river to a game hide where giraffe, zebra, impala, warthog, and francolin wandered across my field of vision heading to the area waterhole. What a feeling to gaze on wildlife whilst they are unaware of your presence. The day light dwindling, I finally pulled myself away from my reverie to make my way back to camp, stopping only to gaze at tracks along the river’s edge and collect a few more rock samples…after all, once an explorer, always an explorer.

PS as of writing this blog, my ipod took diving lessons in the wash, my head torch's parachute didn't deploy, therefore injuring it ever so slightly and my memory card through a tantrum meaning no photos due to the required formatting of said card.

Here At Last

I have promised over and again that I would blog about my time here in Africa. Unfortunately, free time is a valuable commodity out here in the bush. It is hard to believe that 2 months have already passed and I am nearing the end of my 2^nd semester with Bushwise. I have learnt much about myself and this amazing natural environment I am surrounded by daily.

First off, as I know everyone is waiting to hear about my driving abilities, I will admit to having stuck the vehicle only once and as it would happen, on my very first drive.  Crashing through golden orb webs and dodging thorns, I misjudged my tire alignment and wedged one side of the vehicle in a deep crevice. On a good note, it was a fantastic learning platform for the other students in my vehicle for “what not to do”, and as it would happen, a great photo op for my trainer. It took two attempts to free the vehicle due in part to my rather poor attempt to drive through it the 2^nd time around. Shame!

Driving is progressing and a few weeks ago, I drove into my first lion sighting. The pride of 6 lions lazed about with only one lioness slightly annoyed at my approach. Thanks to my ethology lecture, I recognized the fact that I had breached this big cat’s comfort zone and quickly gave her the space she needed. It is an amazing feeling to see the classroom lectures coming to fruition out on our game drives.

Trust me when I say, there have been many moments “to write home about”. I am not one to shy away from Africa’s creepy crawlies but snakes are another matter, especially one’s that fall out of trees. Imagine my reaction when a Spotted Bushveld Snake (non-venomous), fell next to my study group, coiled and reared up. I have never jumped up on my seat so fast in my life. The reptile identification lecture went out the window as I shrieked “snake”……like a little girl. ;)

Apart from the snakes, scorpions and spiders (most of you will thank me for not writing about these), the wildlife encounters have been absolutely stellar. Imagine elephants emerging from thick brush, silhouetted by moonlight, silently walking past your vehicle, an arm’s length away, the air thick with their musky scent.

The haunting call of hyena in the early morning hours, the roar of lions in the late evening, the final calls of an impala in a cheetah death grip…..it is a veritable overload to the senses. I am continuously amazed by my surroundings! Even more so, my ability to distinguish the sights, sounds and smells I am bombarded with.

Lastly, I can’t finish off this blog without writing about my accomplishments. Rifle handling began last week with our SASSETA qualifications. I can safely say that I am not a bad shot considering the scope was so far off that even our trainer could not hit the target. Makes me wonder about my eyesight (rest assured I passed two eye tests at the driving center). As for this week, a week long session in tracking culminated in my finally qualifying for my level 2 tracker. After much doubting on my part, over analysing tracks & spoor on practical, I was elated with the final results. I must now learn to have more faith in my abilities, after all, this is a dream of my own making. 

Giant Python On The Path

Everything moves in time. My mind overflows with thoughts. The best way to sift through them...feet hitting the ground, shades on, ear buds in and Boy & Bear streaming. While some people have epiphany's in the shower, others on the throne, I have my best ideas while wandering the streets of my neighbourhood. Yes, I am one of "those" people who block out the world around them and walk with determination. There is nothing quite like a brisk two hour walk to pump the blood and feed the brain. Although, generally a social person, I can be introspective at times and will admit to getting lost in my own thoughts. You may even catch me having a one way conversation. 

I have wandering feet or itchy feet as my parents call them. They take me places I would have never dared venture. My feet are monsters, they literally have a mind of their own. When everything in my being screams NO, they say GO. Skimming through some of my past posts, you would hardly believe I was a big "scaredy cat". True story. Case in point, Crescent Island, home to giant pythons. Who in their right mind, would A) visit such an island?  let alone B) explore it on foot?  If all hands are pointing to me, you are correct my friends. 

Crescent island, a choice shooting location for such films as Tomb Raider and Out of Africa, was my pick of the trip. I credit this to my feet treading where no sane mind would. So engrossed was I by my surroundings; dung beetle rolling their treasures across the path, ants scurrying away in orderly fashion, giraffe galloping within a few meters, fish eagles calling overhead, it was no wonder my guide had to pull back on my backpack to break me out of my reverie. Perturbed that he had stopped me so, I began to scan my surroundings. Gazing at the log that crossed my path, my eyes began to refocus. Was that a tongue I just saw flicker?  My eyes were surely playing tricks on me. The log was breathing. Was it a log? Of course it wasn't a log! In fact, it was a 4 meter python. This giant python was both beautiful and intimidating. To be so perfectly camouflaged and lay motionless while being gawked at by several pairs of eyes, I tip my hat to the snake. Naturally, the story doesn't end here and for those of you who know me all too well, you can guess what I did next. I touched it. To clarify, I wouldn't have done this without my guide's say so. I may be adventurous but I am not stupid, although I do like touching everything around me. What can I say? I am a very tactile person. The heat radiating from the giant python quickly spread from my fingers to my palms. Although the moment seemed to last forever, within a few seconds of my touching it, this giant python began its retreat into the tall grass. They say pythons are not very quick snakes, in fact, at top speed, they can move 1.6km/hr on open ground but I beg to differ. For its size and girth, this giant python, had both stealth and speed. Thereafter, grinning from ear to ear, my guide and I finished our walk without much fanfare. 

Although back in the land of grizzly bears and cougars, I allow my mind to return to thoughts of Africa. My feet continue to move me forward at a ridiculous pace when I'm in a contemplative mood but one thing is for sure, no matter where I am in the world, even when I am lost in my own thoughts, I give logs on my path the respect they deserve. After all, I once almost stepped over a giant python. 

A Blog About Me: What's In A Name?

Remember the days of collecting rocks, coins, stamps and seashells? If you said yes, I'll let you in on a little secret: by the age of 13, I had amassed 200+ coins from around the world coupled with a respectable antique bottle collection. I know, closet nerd and proud of it. The good news...my days of accumulating dust collectors have gone the way of the do-do. Rather, to my astonishment, I seem to be acquiring a sizeable collection of monikers in a day and age when people are either collecting iTunes playlists or Facebook friends, all of which take little space (physically speaking). 

Nicknames come and go, but some seem to stick around like the lingering smell of a bad fart. Someone throws a few words together and voilà, an instant reflection of my character. I suppose my biased notion of my "star" qualities are not necessarily the views of those closest to me. So how do my friends & family see me? As I am no mind reader and am prone to exaggeration, I will list a few of my various nicknames and let you be the judge of me.

• Sweet-pickle: I can go from being sweet to sour just about as fast as a cheetah can go from 0 to 100km/h in 3 seconds.
• Anal Angel: although sounding like a porn star, it goes with my need to have ALL my "ducks in a row".
• Naserian: my Maasai name given to me in Kenya, by Maasai elders meaning "Peaceful One"
• Newbie: my Canadian friends living in Kenya bestowed me this title. A seasoned traveller to Kenya, I can still manage a few faux-pas or a.k.a. blonde moments.
• Growly Bear: I can be a little over protective with my peeps to the point of being bossy.
• Rose: not a flattering moniker but one my parents gave me a long time ago when in moments of absent-mindedness, I reminded them of a character on their favourite sitcom "The Golden Girls".
• Tuff N' Tiny: the name of my USB flash drive which eventually transferred over to me. What can I say? I'm petite and like to be thought of as tough. If the shoe fits..........
• Malaika: Kenyan Angel - yes, at times, I can be angelic
• Ducky: generally, everything is "ducky" with this Ducky (except around duck season)
• bB (baby Barracuda): generally solitary, a barracuda is a voracious predator relying on stealth and short bursts of speed to overtake its prey. I'm really not that evil but I do have a mischievous streak and fierce determination. Watch out for my sneaky side!!!

There you have it, your African Snow Angel revealed. Professional Photographer, part-time student, current Lead Gardener & Crew Leader, Africa addict, future Field Guide and all of the above. If by chance, and there is that possibility, you should ever run into this Canadian short stop (made famous by Disney's "It's A Small World After All"), ask me about my rock collection. I think geology may be easier to explain and let's face it, it's much more fascinating than what's in a name. Now to fill in box two of my student Visa application - FIRST NAME(s). hmm?!!! 

Do-Overs

The truth is, that throughout our lives, we will experience many things that may cause us to stumble but in the end, it is our choice to learn and grow from these. God never gives us more than we can handle. Of course, you only realize this after the fact. Trust me, I know all too well and can honestly say I wouldn't be where I am now if it wasn't for my stumbles. I will not apologize for bringing God into my blog as that is a big part of who I am. 

Contemplating life in a remote corner of my parents farm.

I am forever trying to push myself which at times can back fire. For the longest time, I had wanted to become a helicopter pilot. As a photographer and frequent traveller to Africa, I envisioned flying to remote destinations to capture THE perfect National Geographic moment. Perhaps I set the bar too high or had the wrong motives or just needed to prove something, either way, leaving flight school was the turning of the tides for my decision to move to Africa. By the end of February, I had no career, no home of my own and felt utterly and totally alone. To say that my emotional, spiritual and physical being were teetering on a knife's edge is an understatement. If you have ever hit rock bottom, then you will understand what it feels like to have to pick yourself up, dust yourself off and start all over again at square one. The difficulty in this, is that it's up to you to decide when to carry on. 

Staying young means being silly. Dish ninja in action!

My love for Africa has been on going for as long as I can remember. So many friends & family assumed I would be cured once this craving was satisfied, however, my setting foot on the continent only intensified my desire to live there. Since 2008, I have travelled four times to Kenya, twice to South Africa and once to Tanzania. My name is Angele Rouillard and I am addicted to Africa. All this to say, the more times I travel there, the longer I stay and so, it only makes sense that my end goal would be to live and work there for as long as I can; forever would be good too. With that said, in March 2013, I officially enrolled into the FGASA level 1 program in Makalali Private Nature Reserve, South Africa, beginning January 7, 2014. 

With 189 days until I return to Africa and  210 days for my course start, you can imagine my excitement. It will not be quelled. Africa is my happy place. Yes, I endured a "do-over" but I am a much stronger woman for it. If Africa has taught me anything, it is to enjoy the journey rather than the destination. Happy dreaming or as Peter Pan would say "I can fly, I can fly, I can fly!"

Falling Out of A Plane

I have a bucket list. To my credit, I had it before the movie of same name popularized it. The only difference is mine will never have an end. I am not a negative person by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, I have what you would call "a zest for life", a contagious "joie de vivre".  The reason I will never complete my bucket list is because the more I explore and experience our world, the more I want to see and do. For every item I cross off, another two or three "to-dos" are added. I also realize that certain things on my list may be out of my reach such as experiencing weightlessness as I don't ever plan on being part of the space program but that's not to say I can't write it down for kicks. This leads me to why most of us write a list in the first place, fear. We all have fears. Truth be told, I am afraid of taking risks, I am afraid of failure, I have a natural fear of sharks and open water, and lastly, I am afraid of heights, or falling from there, actually, am not sure which is worst. 

Skydiving has been on the top of my "experiences" list (yes, before you ask, my bucket list is organized from experiences to natural wonders to UNESCO heritage sites, etc.) for a very long time, right next to learning to fly a helicopter.  All I can write about the latter is that I flew for 20 seconds and that jumping out of a perfectly good plane, was much easier. That is to say, I could at least control my "falling with style" better than I could a tin flying contraption. 

The notion of jumping into thin air, literally, the air is thinner at 10,000 feet, seemed beyond comprehension. I simply woke-up one morning and decided this would be the perfect month to jump. I tend to work myself up to the point of feeling nauseated, anxious, with a veritable butterfly breeding ground in my stomach but on the chosen day, I was calm. The sunshine was brilliant, the ceiling unlimited and my excitement boundless. As I said my final goodbyes to friends and family and acknowledged any last acquisition requests on their part, I couldn't help but beam at my courage. Me, the once shy girl from the farm, was, to the shock of everyone who knows me, about to skydive. The plane ride was uneventful. We climbed, and climbed, and soared high above the island. The view was fantastic! Once at elevation, I received the tap on my shoulder, the signal that we were to prepare to exit the plane. The excitement masked any apprehension I may have had at this point. I leaned back on my instructor as taught, and then, it happened. You think you are ready for anything but the moment you're thrust into mid-air with nothing to grasp, the earth coming up at you faster than you can anticipate, the expected "roller coaster" feeling non-existent but rather a sudden will to survive, followed by my piercing SCREAM, it was a rush of adrenaline beyond words. I can still replay it over and over in my mind and experience that same exhilarating rush.

The moment the parachute is deployed is comparable to someone hitting the brakes. 30 sec of free falling followed by a sudden stop and then a leisurely descent (until your instructor decides to spiral). I always assumed a certain level of noise up there, you know, wind rushing through your ears and such but in fact, it was quite the opposite. The silence coming down was deafening and pure bliss. The view, incredible. I gazed at my feet dangling so high above the earth. I was mesmerized by this concept and understood the Wright brothers fascination with flight. Who wouldn't want to soar with the eagles?!

So there you have it. I did it. I jumped out of an airplane and lived to tell about it. It is now crossed off the bucket list but that isn't to say, I won't do it again. I'm not sure I conquered my fear of heights but I took the risk and did not fail, two things I'm proud to say. Next on the list...........shark cage diving.....maybe. 

Africa...eventually!

I realize that this is the year 2013 so you will have to forgive me if I delve into my past to explain the present.

The year 2012 was quite a year for me; in fact, it was a year of many firsts. I could never have imagined that at the stroke of midnight on January 1, 2012, the sound of clinking champagne flutes would herald the start of a new beginning. 

To give you a brief synopsis, by December 29, 2011, I was single and unemployed with no sense of purpose. I refused to work for a horrible boss which inevitably led me to quit my job. I now joined the multitude of job seekers on-line, in line and at job fairs. I was desperate to find work and fast; the rent wasn't going to pay itself. Africa may have taught me patience but job seeking toughened me to a world of rejection and made me a more determined woman. On the bright side, three months of unemployment also gave me the opportunity to pursue new avenues...but more on that later.

A previously purchased non-refundable airline ticket to what would inevitably become the family vacation that wasn't, saw me trekking the back roads of Maui solo. Now some of you would have sighed at my seemingly sad predicament while others would have felt sorry for me but I assure you I needed neither. January was a turning point for me and also the moment I realized that if I was to do anything with my life then I would need to be the one to give myself a virtual swift kick in the ass. Amid all my flaws I was a woman with gumption.

A first time experience...what a rush!!!

Post zip line group.

February and March came and went without much fanfare. By April 2nd, 2012, I had secured a job as a landscaper and a few weeks later, was promoted to crew leader. Although labour intensive, my summer was fraught with several perks that included lunch on the beach, farmer's tan, great pipes, a six-pack, endless sunshine and my boss occasionally buying us beer.

Landscaper's Pipes!

To make a long story short, by end September I was heading to Africa for a 3 week holiday leading to a 3 month volunteer project to what would inevitably become a turning of the tides. More to follow............

Thunderstorms, Lorry Rides and Stomach Bugs

OK...I apologize for being off the grid for so long. Internet is quite sporadic in the bush.

Thunderstorms, lorry ride, and stomach bugs....oh!my!

After days of predictions, the heavens have opened up. Our drivers’ incessant complaints about dust on the roads will abate for the time being only to be replaced further on by complaints of being stuck in Kenya’s slick black cotton or mud as we foreigners call it. It is a relentless deluge of rain, wind and thunder. The evenings are no less spectacular with a veritable light show in the cumulus.  I am currently tucked away in my office, the refreshing smell of rain, strong in my nostrils. My Canadian jumper and my pot of Kenyan chai, offer me the only relief from the damp air. Everything is at a standstill. This is the best work break one could ask for after days of stifling heat. After months of anticipation by the locals, one can safely say, the short rains have arrived.

If anything, the rains have made me grateful that I am now safely settled at Cottars 1920’s Camp. Weeks ago, I found myself the only white female passenger on a large delivery truck heading to camp.  So that you are better able to understand my predicament (that is my long journey into the night), imagine being advised of an early departure time of 7am from Cottars Nairobi office, arriving at said time, only to wait the 7.5hrs for the arrival and loading of the lorry. My lesson for that particular day, never skip breakfast. My one reprieve throughout that particular road trip was a quick stop over in Narok, the halfway mark to the Cottars Camp, for “nyoma choma” or bbq’d meat, a local and favourite dish of mine. My truck mates, two burly Kenyans with a great sense of humour, my only other saving grace for the 8.5hr trek.  The Spanish Inquisition could not have prepared the sanest individual from the barrage of questions I endured. The main topic of conservation, much to my chagrin, was my love life. By the end of the road trip, I had secured a would-be husband and would-be boyfriend, not of my own choosing of course.

It’s safe to say that I have had many suitors in camp. Kenyans are lacking neither charm nor determination when it comes to wooing this Canadian short stop. To be aggressively pursued is somewhat unnerving at times but the guys in camp mean well and graciously accept defeat. Pests in camp are a different matter altogether. The rats, fleas, ants, wall spiders that frequent my new home are unwelcome visitors in the bed, shower and room and unfortunately do not comprehend rejection. I am a lover of all things great and small but even this lady has her limits. Case in point, as I prepared for bed one evening, a rat migrated up the shower drain and scampered across the bathroom floor as I stood in awe at its brazenness; my only weapon, a soft bristled tooth brush and a tube of Colgate.  Such happenings are a common occurrence and make for great dinner time conversation when tourists are NOT in camp.

And now for our top story - the stomach bugs. Yuck! Pests come in all shapes and sizes but these bugs are by far, in my opinion, THE worst. One can hope for an iron stomach and proper hygiene practices in the kitchen but in the end, it is a daily game of Russian roulette. No matter how many times I wash my hands and only drink bottled water, I have come down with the stomach bug twice. Both occurrences have lasted well over three days which in truth is a quarter of the time I already have spent in camp. Unfortunately, work schedules do not allow for time off and one must eventually muster the strength and will power to carry on with the daily tasks.  I am glad to say I have an ample supply of both.

 Angele Rouillard

Special Assignment, Cottars 1920's Camp, Masai Mara, Kenya

Volunteer Placement

I apologize for the long absence but TIA (this is Africa) afterall. I am currently in Nairobi enjoying the last vestiges of my holiday with Roxanne. I will be returning to the Mara on Friday morning (GASP!!!!). Yes, it is true and really not surprising for those of you who know me well enough to know that Africa is in my blood. I will be staying in Kenya until December 25th, working back of house for Cottar's 1920's Camp. I am looking forward to working with staff and volunteers again. Luckily, I will have internet access on this portion of the journey which will hopefully mean better correspondence. I hope to share many stories and adventures with you.

A Superkalafragilisticexpealidotious Experience

Wow, wow, wow!!! I am at a loss for words for where to begin. There are so many stories begging to be shared that I fear some will be lost in translation. There was this time when wild dogs chased a leopard up the tree, then this other time when an elephant charged our vehicle, or when hyenas ran by our vehicle as we all stood around waiting for our driver to change a flat tire, and then this other time we followed a lone male lion through a dry riverbed 4x4ing through sand and over boulders, or our tracker leaving our vehicle to track a leopard and guide us to her, and I can't forget when 1,000 cape buffalo converged on a water hole only to be frightened into a stampede by a demure heron, and also another time we walked up to three rhinos only 5m from us.....and then, we were never heard from again - hahaha! With no internet access, how could I share my adventures with the outside world? Never fear for pictures are worth a 1,000 words. 

I wish everyone could experience the thrill of their first wildlife sighting or safari drive into the bush! There is nothing quite like the feeling of having wind, dust and sun seep into the skin. The smell of the bush is as intoxicating for me as a T-Bone steak grilling on the barbecue. I could stay out for hours on end gazing, listening, studying, photographing this familiar world. I feel I may have passed on the "Africa bug" to my fellow traveler but I don't think she'll mind. 

Until next time.....

Senses Alert

My senses are overwhelmed!  What better way to start the day then to head out into the bush veld in dawn’s early morning light while a gentle breeze carries the scent of flora and fauna, and a promise of the great safari to come. In a few moments time, our vehicle is surrounded by the over 800 cape buffalo that a few of us in camp had the pleasure of hearing throughout the night. I'm sure they are just as amused to have their morning interrupted by the endless clicking of shutter buttons as we were to have had our sleep interrupted and our senses assaulted by grunting sounds and the acrid smell of cow dung. Giraffe, impala, kudu, cape buffalo, elephants, rhinoceros, zebra, monkeys, bush babies, warthogs, leopard, wild dog ....I fear I may become cross eyed from looking every which way. One can’t resist the giddiness that inevitably follows a sighting. I am in my happy place – perhaps, like Peter Pan, this will help me fly!?

Hot Destinations

Hot, Hot, Hot!!!

The mercury is rising! I did not anticipate this veritable inferno, a whopping 43C. The camp pool is a welcome relief from the sun’s endless beating both for the tourists and the wildlife (the elephants emptied the pool the night prior). Endless pairs of foreign feet splash about in the water, while introductions are made and the drinks poured. My friend Roxanna and I are welcomed into the fold of seasoned and newbie safari goers. 

A Long Haul Flight Into The Night

People watching is a wonderful way to pass the time in any of the world’s airports. It begs to wonder where are people going, who are they meeting, what is their story. I wager there are many sad, wonderful and thrilling tales to be heard. Once seated on the airplane, your fellow passengers become your fellow travellers, confidants, friends, etc. all with a common goal - arriving safely at a final destination. It is amazing how much we are willing to tell, how much of our life story we are willing to share with a perfect stranger or in my experience, to the person luckily or unluckily seated beside me. Having travelled as much as I have and having exchanged dialogues with many fellow passengers, I could either have written a book by now or acquired a degree in psychology, and in some rare cases, could have gone to the loony house. Even with the endless chatter, announcement interruptions, food service, drink service, pee breaks, etc., I still find time for quiet contemplation gazing out at the endless sky to the point of imagining myself floating through the cumulus clouds. Flying still holds endless wonder for me whether we’re soaring through a lightning storm, parallel to a full moon, having the cabin filled with a new day’s morning rays, or being dazzled by a brilliant array of city lights announcing our final destination. 20hrs of flight time, 8hrs of layovers, thousands of kilometres travelled, I have arrived safely in Africa.

Three Cities

Narok - Part 1 "The River Runs Wild"

Narok...a blend of smog, people and utter chaos, and our destination for our large grocery run. A late departure from camp, a bad combination of kerosene/fuel in the pick-up, a 3 hour delay at the mechanic, as well as storm clouds on the horizon; in hindsight, I suppose these events were forshadowing things to come.

As the sun began to set, Douglas, Leonard and I found ourselves packing and repacking the truck for the return journey to camp. Barely managing to fit all the items onto the back of the truck, we eventually resorted to using our laps to carry the more "fragile" products (ie eggs). With everything safely stowed away, we bid Narok farewell and began our journey home.

Leonard

Lightning stretched across the horizon as the heavens opened up with a torrential downpour causing already dangerous roads to become entrenched and slick. What was originally going to be a 3 hour trek became a 5 hour odyssey. I say odyssey because having only 1 CD in the truck meant that by the time we reached Oloolaimutia, well after midnight, we could sing along to all the tracks.

Unable to cross the now raging Sand River, we grabbed our torches and trekked through the darkened streets of Oloolaimutia in search of a safe place to stay the night. The local hotel aptly named Sweethearts proved to be both clean and dry and exactly what this ragged mzungu needed. Nothing could keep me from sleeps embrace!

By morning the roads had improved little. Tired but not beaten we headed to camp with fingers crossed. Six attempts at the first crossing did not deter us from what lay ahead after all the local Maasai did aid us by pushing our vehicle through the not quite knee deep mud. The Sand River however proved another matter. A second camp vehicle with most of the staff tagging along was already waiting for us on the other side of the river ready to lead our vehicle across. At this juncture I have to admit that I was slightly fearful of the churning waters. My instincts were telling me "no" while everyone else was saying "go". In the end, the staff waded through the water, tied a tow line to our truck and towed us to safety. The adrenaline coursing through my veins, I was now ready for another adventure but first things first, a cup of chai and a hot shower.

Nairobi - Part 2 "There and Back Again - A Mzungu's Travel Tale"

Stars dotted the night sky as I made my way to Oloolaimutia to catch the 3AM matatu to Narok and then ownward to Nairobi. This was to be my first attempt at the local mode of transportation. I was eager to hit the open road with these legendary drivers. Dodging pot holes, trash and mud trenches, our driver manoeuvred our vehicle to "designated" stops to pick-up his passengers. Desginated stops is a liberal term as in the pitch of night we would stop at some house or manyatta, honk the horn and wait for those inside to make their way to the matatu. How the driver knew where to stop will remain a mystery to this day. With 12 seats already full and only 2 places remaining, I could scarcely believe my eyes when we made additional stops. Where were those people going to sit? The more people were squeezed into our vehicle, the more impressed I became by my fellow passengers sheer determination. In the end, we managed to fit a whopping 23 people in our proverbial clown car. As it was cool and raining outside, I enjoyed the warmth within.

Angele & Douglas

 The return journey was to be another highlight of Kenyan life. Imagine a 26 passenger bus laden with people, goods and fowl. It took the driver and his men a whopping 4 hours to secure everything and everyone onto, atop and into the bus. This was going to be a whole new experience unlike the matatu. As I quietly sat in my designated seat, I watched the men haul 50kg sacks of sugar into the aisles followed by 20ltr vats of cooking oil. Under every seat they managed to stow away vegetables, pangas, boxes, bags, etc... As for the top of the bus, .furniture, drums of fuel next to bags of fresh charcoal were securely strapped for the return journey to the Mara. The most comical part to me was the loading of chickens. With legs tied together, they hung in rows on either side of the bus. Throughout the journey, beaks would peck at the glass and beady eyes would look at you accusingly as you sat in relative comfort as babies sat on strangers laps, passengers squeezed together onto seats and several extra people crammed the aisles. If only I had brought my camera.

Sekenani - Part 3 "The Last Crusade"

Everyone in camp used to tell me that if you went out to buy a sack of potatoes it could take you all day and there were no guarantees of your being successful. I was about to understand this concept.

Ernest

Hot and dusty best described the roads, the air and ourselves. It was essential to travel to Sekenani as we were running low on cooking gas and with a shortage in Kenya, it only seemed right to head to a balloon company and await their delivery truck.

Being organized as I am, I stayed in constant contact with the delivery driver. With an estimated arrival time of noon, James, Ernest and I headed to Sekenani. Upon our arrival however, we were informed that the driver was nowhere near where previously mentioned. We therefore decided to walk through the town, do a little shopping and find a place to quench our thirst and satisfy our hunger. Most establishments were either too dirty or too hot but in the end we settled on the "Star Hotel" as it most importantly offered cold sodas. With ice cold bottles pressed against our foreheads, we dined on local goat and rice.

Now we had to kill time...first we parked the truck under the only tree we could find and listened to James' tunes. Secondly, as their was no breeze in town, we decided to create our own by driving down the washboard road. Finally, we walked around town approximately 5-6 times, as the town only had 3 streets, stopping at the same establishments as when we first arrived as we may have missed seeing something new.

Our delivery driver finally pulled into Sekenani well after 6pm...a good 6 hours off schedule. Regulations state that the canisters cannot be filled until the air within has cooled. As the park gates were closing at 6:30pm, we decided it best to leave the empty canisters and return in the morning. Armed with the best "sweet talker" in camp, we managed to make our way through both park gates and arrive in camp by 8pm. For once, I actually looked forward to a cold shower.

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Muthaiga Staff

This may well be my last blog until after the New Year. Wishing everyone a safe and blessed Christmas!

Angele/Naserian/Malaika