The Hippos Made me Cry
They sleep all day, and then come out at night. This is what got me. Maybe it’s because they are so like teenagers.
When our friend Jamie, recently returned from safari, told us that being physically present with wild animals in their natural habitat had made him cry, I was skeptical. He is ex-Army and an engineer, not a combination known for spontaneous emotion. He used words atypical for him like "beautiful" and "magical."
I realize now that he used those words because there aren't the right ones, for reasons I am no more capable of conveying than he was.
When, due to some COVID-induced travel ad-libbing, Safari became part of the itinerary, I was blasé. Kids were pumped and I had heard it was cool. Animals are neat. I like nature. But I’ve been to some pretty good zoo’s. I was unprepared.
It was oddly the hippos that got me. We saw "cooler" animals at closer range. There were lion cubs and zebras and wildebeests. We saw a lioness we could have spit on (not a brilliant plan), and later a different lioness chase away cheetahs from a zebra they were devouring while vultures waited to get at the carcass.
In a relatively small waterhole behind our first lodge on tee Masai Mora, a herd of hippo's lazes away the day, coming out at night to graze. They weren't even doing anything "interesting" when I saw them, just occasionally splashing and grunting to each other.
I just started weeping. I don't know why that's what hit me – maybe it's just so far outside my experience - but to be witness to this bizarrely primal piece of nature overwhelmed me.
We saw more hippos later, in a salt-water lake, in a rain-drenched marsh, even dead in a field, but that first just experience of being present with creation was powerful.
Because of the amazing stewardship by the Kenyan people, the animals have learned to treat humans as just another inedible and non-threatening aspect of their environment (unless we come out of the trucks -in which case we're a threat or potentially lunch). That meant we could get up close and personal with animals just going about their lives - and sometimes deaths.
As I'm writing this, a baboon troop is crossing the plain behind our little deck. One small one has climbed a tree and is just looking around). I'm sure the kids will do a more exhaustive job of cataloging and describing.
I don't know whether it's because I am totally irrelevant to them or so small next to the rich ecosystem we saw, but it just moved me.
Look at that, Jamie, I also have no words.
Not a terrible way to start one’s day. Kilimanjaro at dawn.
Later that night, I was being escorted up from the lake because hippo's are hugely territorial and dangerous (the only animal that kills more people in Africa is the mosquito), we saw this guy.
We quietly backed away and went around.
