To go back a few days: I returned from Zambia on Monday afternoon to a busy LWC (Lilongwe Wildlife Center), volunteers new and old running around with bottles attending to orphaned monkeys and impatient hedgehogs. Cazz, the volunteer coordinator, informed me that my wish to spend some time at Kuti, the affiliated game ranch near Lake Malawi, was about to be granted and that I would be leaving for there in the morning with the one other male volunteer, Kirian from Ireland. Thanks guys, but we can manage fine without you!
Next morning Kirian and I depart for Salima (the nearest town) in a minibus, for both of us a first experience of Malawian public transport, and a special thrill for K who has only been in Africa for a week and that in the sheltered environment of LWC. The minibus is an absolute hoot, It is jam-packed with very merry Malawians, sacks of maize and the inevitable cardboard box with holes in it from which come the squawks of an unknown number of chickens. We have a great trip to Salima where we are picked up by Annelies the manager of Kuti and Linus, a German long-term volunteer who have been shopping.
Welcome to Malawian Transport
Anelies and her husband Jeroen are the new managers of Kuti, hired recently by its board of trustees. Over the next days I slowly get to know about the history and workings of this project. Meanwhile I am pleasantly surprised as we enter the 20 square Km park: I had been expecting something rather tame, with animals in paddocks (it is described as a “ranch”) but this is true wild nature. OK, the Zebras are rather tame and like to hang around next to the very chic little chalet Kirian and I stay in (actually guest accommodation – volunteer quarters need renovation) and there is a Camel which doesn’t belong here at all (best friends with the solitary Giraffe) but the rest has a real bush vibe. We have a nice lunch and are invited for a drive around the park in the afternoon.
We set off with Annelies at the wheel and Linus, Kirian, Katherine (English volunteer who has just arrived from the airport) and I on the back of a pickup. We drive through mature open woodland and come out into a stunning long-grass savannah. A pair of Bustards fly up as we pass, Lilac-breasted Rollers perch on dead branches – this could be any big park in Africa. We haven’t yet seen any game, but then Linus points to the edge of the grassland where a pair of long, scimitar-like horns are just visible, moving above the tall grass. A Sable Antelope! I have never seen one before and we drive on a bit and look down a long straight track and sure enough one after the other, a small party of these large animals cautiously cross the road.
Annelies
Sable
In the evening we are all sitting at the dinner table when the John, the cook, jumps out of the little house that serves as a kitchen, loudly exclaiming “Snake, Snake!”. We all rush over to check it out. He points to the pile of pots under the counter and says a Mamba went in there. Linus says the locals call every snake a Mamba so we get a rake with a long handle and gingerly start removing pots, one by one. There is nothing there. We search around and still nothing. We open a nearby cupboard and start removing the contents – still nothing. Everyone is moving out of kitchen, probably thinking John was imagining things when he lets out a loud shriek and jumps back about a meter: a long brown snake emerges from the cupboard and wriggles over to a pile of potatoes at the other end of the kitchen. I have seen enough to identify it: A Cobra, probably of the Mozambique Spitting species. Now we are in a real fix. This is a very dangerous snake and the kitchen is a very cluttered space; removing it is not going to be easy. I go round the back with one of the boys and we bang on the wall with sticks. It works – the Cobra moves, climbs up on to the sink, then makes its way along the counter and disappears in the corner near the door in a clutter of kettles and fire-pots. Meanwhile, Geraldo, a Brazilian traveller staying the night is keen to get in on the action. He is a hippyish type who believes he is immune to Malaria and seems to have a similar attitude to Spitting Cobras. So we construct a barricade of cardboard boxes on the kitchen floor to guide the snake to the door and carefully remove the kettles and junk from the counter (the snake has coiled itself into a tight ball behind a small blackboard against the wall and seems pretty calm – in spite of Geraldo’s initial attempts to remove it by throwing potatoes at it). When everything is in place, Geraldo perches precariously as far away from the snake as possible and with a very long stick removes the blackboard. The snake doesnt budge so I (who am overseeing from safely behind the screen window) suggest a little nudge – he gives more of poke than a nudge and it hisses loudly, I tell him to back off and wait. The snake tries to go up the wall and then it drops to the floor and slides out the door and off in to the night. Phew!
The Cobra that came to dinner
Next morning I am up early and off in to the woods with my binoculars. Because there are no Dangerous Animals here we can walk wherever we like (keeping an eye out for snakes of course!). This is an utter joy for me, what I have been longing for since first coming to Africa: no safari vehicle, no armed rangers, no guides. I can dawdle along, look at birds, follow butterflies, watch the grass waving in the wind, the sun coming through the trees , sit and wait and dream or whatever. This morning I don’t go far, and just sit by the track and wait. A couple of Bushbucks cross the road, snorting their alarm call when they see me. A mixed flock of birds descend on the trees around me and for a few minutes I don’t know where to look first; then they move on and it’s quiet again. Suddenly there is a thundering of hooves and a dozen or so wildebeest burst out of the bush and gallop across leaving the dust hanging in the air. What a morning!
Bushbuck
Cardinal Woodpecker
And so it goes on. The next days I go for long walks, sometimes it’s to record the animal species for a database, with GPS coordinates and so on, but often I find myself just completely absorbed by the magic of the places I am walking through or sitting by. The diversity of animals here is immense, going to the shower in the evening is a zoological feast of Tree-frogs and Toads and all manner of insects drawn to the lights (when they work). When there are no birds to be seen, I turn my camera to the grasshoppers and mantises, the spiders and the wasps and the beetles who have been my companions since childhood. I hope the Spitting Cobra doesn’t know about the frogs in the shower – according to Wikipedia that’s their favorite food!
