What I Learned on the Expanses of South Africa
- amyjean2003
- Aug 31, 2016
- 3 min read
Each time I remember the experience, I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I picture the beauty of the predator only paces away and feel my throat catch and my breath shallow. My eyes become wider and the time between each blink expands as, even in my memory, I take it all in again.
This summer I had the opportunity to visit a country that had never directly crossed my wanderlust radar: South Africa. While “Africa” as a continent was of interest, my knowledge and experience of the many countries it contains was (and still is) lacking. So when one of my best friends moved to Parys two years ago, I quickly bumped South Africa to the top of my go-to list.
My experiences in Johannesburg, Soweto, and Limpopo Province opened up so many questions and sparked a great deal of internal growth - - much of which is still to come. The depth of this trip far outweighs a single blog post.
But as I do not have the time to write of each moment of learning during my time in South Africa, one instant particularly stands out for today. Possibly because I had a dream about it last night (it was one of those crazy vivid dreams that sticks with you throughout the day), my time at the Welgevonden Game Reserve in Limpopo is fresh on my mind. It was there I got a small but gut wrenching sense of my place in the food chain.
It started on our second morning game drive. Our driver, Michael, blasted over the winding roads, his passengers – including an Afrikaans family, my friend, and me – bouncing wildly. This seemed odd as the night before he’d taken a very leisurely pace, stopping for my friend and me to take photos of impala, wildebeest, zebras (P.S. Americans say it wrong, it’s a short “e”), and all the animals that eventually became blasé out on the reserve. Never thought seeing a zebra would feel so commonplace. Before, we had talked and asked questions along our route, but this morning we were off quickly in the brisk morning air. Despite objections from the father of the family, we cruised past animal after animal.
When we rounded a turn near a large clearing where a herd of rhino make their home, we discovered the reason for Michael’s haste. A cheetah and her two cubs had been sighted near the road. Our vehicle was next in line for driving closer to these creatures. Only a few minutes passed before another land rover moved out and we rolled in.
At first it was only glimpses of the cheetah trio through the tall, amber grass; an incredible sight watching the fastest land animal slink through the blades. The four stationed vehicles were all silent, intent, as the two cubs followed mama’s weaving path. Even mostly hidden it was an impressive experience.
Our eyes glued on the beautiful creatures, the cheetah family neared the edge of the veldt, closer and closer to the road along which we were all parked. First the head of the full grown cheetah protruded from the grassy veil, then her elegant shoulders, long torso, and great haunches fully revealed her grace. She stood, attentive to the potential dinner along the next ridge over. Moments later her cubs clamored out and galumphed beside her.
Here we sat, maybe 20 paces from the fastest land animal, and she was on the hunt. As I stared at this cheetah I felt my stomach clench and my breath become shallow. While Michael had explained to us before that the animals we encountered on the reserve conceptualized the game vehicles and their passengers as a single entity, not several creatures (read: dinners) huddled in a rover, it was both awesome and unnerving to be within such close proximity to an expert predator. In an instant she could decide we were easy prey and then all that would be left would be a long, sorrowful letter trying to explain to my mother what happened in the wilderness of South Africa.
Of course, the cheetah didn’t turn and look at us like we were a tasty treat she desired. In quiet awe, she and her two cubs worked their way across the road and over the next ridge. Quietly we drove off, leaving nothing but tire tracks and the open sky behind us. The remainder of the morning we saw an incredible array of species, but held, quiet in our hearts, the memory of the cheetah.
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