My shelf life at Mokolodi has now expired. These last two weeks have been spent quietly saying my “goodbyes” to friends and especially to the animals in my care. Duma & Letotse, my beloved cheetahs, were the hardest to part with. I was extremely fortunate to have such a close kinship with big cats, something I will probably never again experience. I stayed with them until after nightfall and found it near impossible to turn my back on them and walk away. On my third attempt, I finally walked beyond the gates of their enclosure and out of their lives permanently.
I took one last long walk through the “Grab & Stab”, as I affectionately call the acacia trees in the reserve. There are over ten different species of acacia tree at Mokolodi, most of which are armed to the teeth. Many of the branches have hooked barbs (twice as vicious as rose stems) with 3” long knife sharp daggers. Lessons are learned quickly when walking thru the bush. Most of my current clothes are replacements of torn shreds when I initially arrived as a bush rookie.
Some of my local friends here organized a “going-away” party for me last night. We had a braii (bbq) and a few cocktails around a fire. Midway thru the evening, Lincoln & Emmanuel, our conservation officers (and my good friends) received a call from the Park Manager (the Nazi Hillbilly, if you recall) informing them they must come to his house, “at once”! It was well into the evening and these guys are not on call 24/7 so I convinced them to ignore his petty concerns. The manager only said it was an “emergency” but did not specify beyond that. We all assumed it involved him putting pressure on Lincoln & Emannual to concede to his wish to move them into a smaller house on the reserve in order to make room for his new staff member, who happens to be another white South African. (Sidelight: there has been recent pressure on L&E to move out of their current accommodation and they had refused, causing a rift between them and mgmt.). Five minutes later, a truck screeches up to our party and out pops one of the park manager’s flunkies to intimidate L&E to come with him and report to the manager. At my advice, L&E politely refused, and the flunkie stormed off in a hissy fit huff. As it turns out the next day, the “emergency” actually was an emergency. Part of our fenceline had fallen down and two giraffes had escaped and were galloping thru the local village. They were eventually rescued safely and L&E, thanks to my wise council, were put on a 30 day suspension.
I left the party shortly after midnight and went back home to pack and spent all night in reflection at my time at Mokolodi. At 4:45am, I was picked up at the park gates and driven to Kasane, in northern Botswana, a 10 hour drive.
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