Happy Thanksgiving to all my U.S. friends!
In honor of this food-centric celebration, I wanted to post a few items I spied on a cafe menu in Rwanda:
Condimental breakfast
Bread crambed fish
Ovacados
Catalane dressing
Foccacian bread
Beef with homemade groovy
Weept creem
Chopped paisley
Because my life includes a number of educators — like my dad, sister, husband and multiple friends — I’ve been trying to get inside as many classrooms as possible during this trip.
That included a primary school in the heart of Soweto — the South Western Townships of Johannesburg, South Africa. The visit was arranged by our host and her friend, a representative for Discovery Channel’s global education project.
You’ve probably heard of Soweto before, because it was where many blacks were forced to live during apartheid. It’s also where Mandela lived before and after going to prison.
In 1976, the townships gained worldwide attention during the Soweto student uprising, a series of protests that became a turning point in tearing down the oppressive apartheid regime.
With the violence in the past, Soweto is an exciting and unusual mix of shanties and glittery mansions, potholes and newly paved roads, artists and former political prisoners.
Inside the third-grade classroom we visited, the kids prepared a special presentation called “South Africa: My Country.”
The kids then performed a couple songs and some traditional dances. They colored the South African flag, put together a South African map and wrote words to describe their country, like “desert,” “mountains” and “animals.”
Most of the students were extremely shy, though a couple of them asked questions about me. Like, why do you talk like the people on TV?
One little wisp of a girl stood up and recited a speech she wrote about what it means to be South African. Her face was earnest as she said, “Just because you come from a township, it doesn’t mean you have bad behavior.”
It made me tear up.
Altogether, it was a visit that ended far too early — but proved that students are often the best teachers.
Maybe it’s because I’m a Leo, but I’ve always had a special affection for lions.
So when other travelers told me that Kruger National Park in South Africa was like one big lion’s den, I said bring it. Just call me Daniel and toss me in there.
Only it wasn’t. I know that driving around game reserves are one big crap shoot anyway — the animals aren’t exactly paid to stand on the side of the road, tap dancing for the humans’ entertainment — but I expected something. Anything. Even a vague hint of mane in the distance would have made me happy.
Then we happened upon this scene, in which a randy male lion was trying to woo his female prey in the middle of the road. (Cue the Beatles’ “Why Don’t We Do It in the Road?”)
But, like any big game sightings at Kruger, the scene quickly became a crazy traffic jam, with each vehicle creeping through the lanes, cutting each other off, honking, yelling and inching forward until every human was thoroughly pissed off and every animal was terrified.
As we drove away, I spilled my hot coffee all over my brand new shorts, prompting a cartoon bubble of !^%$@#^%!#%^$# to burst from my mouth. Now what was I going to wear as I traveled through Africa?
So my car continued making circles around the park, frustrated, angry, sad. The horny lions were okay, but not as satisfying as we had hoped. (And definitely not as satisfying as it was for the cats.)
The gravel road seemed too bumpy and endless. We were hot and mad. We decided to screw this lion stuff and head back for camp.
Suddenly a lone lioness emerged from a thick clump of grass.
We were the only car on the road. It was just us and her.
We locked eyes. For a moment, everything was completely silent, the world on pause. Then the lioness found a satisfactory shady spot underneath a tree and plopped down.
It didn’t feel real that this gorgeous creature and I could be sharing the same space, the same air, the same landscape.
After a while, the scene felt almost too personal and intimate. This was her kingdom — we were only visitors.
We drove away, happy.
The animals at Kruger National Park hog all the attention — but the landscape deserves a look too.
The park is larger than Israel and contains a fantastic diversity of flora and fauna: Endless stretches of bushveld, crooked trees, ribbons of river.
Here’s a taste of what you can see.
Of all the animals in the world, bushbabies are among the most huggable. Looking part cat, part monkey, these nocturnal creatures are all huge eyes, teacup-sized ears and fuzzy coats. They’re like a 5-year-old child’s drawings come to life.
Lucky for my friends and me, we stayed at a lodge where the bushbabies come out to play every night. At 7 p.m. on the dot, tiny hands reached out from behind tree branches. Next came the tiny feet, tiny tails and finally huge ears. The bushbabies were ready for dinner!
The owner of the lodge handed us slices of fresh banana. We’d hold a slice up and a bushbaby would tentatively, carefully approach us, then snag the fruit from our fingers. It was awesome.
I was giddy.
Cut to two nights later, when we were camping out at Kruger National Park. Our campsite was encircled by electric fences. And beyond those fences, the hyenas were waiting.
They were there with good reason. Many campers cook on site. Then, not wanting to leave the food scraps by their tents, they toss everything over the fence.
Over time, the hyenas have learned that good food can be found there, quick, easy and without any effort. This behavior has been reinforced by the actions of other campers, who purposely toss the hyenas a bone or two.
Clearly, that is wrong — and not just because the park will slap you with a huge fine. It’s wrong because those hyenas have picked up bad habits, they have lost some of their wildness and they will likely become more aggressive toward humans because of it.
Then I started wondering what makes that so different from feeding bushbabies. Does it matter if the animals are more adorable and less threatening? Have I been acting selfishly?
Or, to get more to the point, is it always wrong to feed wild animals?
Unfortunately, I think the answer is yes. As much as I try to justify the bushbaby thing — because they’re so sweet and because it was something I really, really wanted to do — it doesn’t make it right.
Sometimes it’s incredibly difficult to put my cuddle instinct aside and act in the best interest of other creatures. But as someone who truly loves animals, that’s what I need to learn to do.