Teachings of the bush

by

Chris Brugman (August 2005 course)

Our group consisted of six: two from South Africa, the rest from overseas, that is, UK, Israel, Switzerland and the Netherlands. We all participated in the course from a professional point of view and could thus share a keen interest in wildlife and nature. No doubt our common interest helped to create a good atmosphere right from the start, despite our very diverse backgrounds, and over the weeks a good camaraderie was developed. But obviously, the pleasant atmosphere was fostered in the first place by our instructor Ian Owtram and his wife Mel, whose warm hospitality and relaxed attitude provided a temporary home where it was quite easy to settle in.
Our days started early with a 6 o'clock walk in the veld, its landscape characterized by thorn bushes, gently rolling hills and granite rocky outcrops. This was one of the many occasions during which Ian shared his lifetime bush knowledge with us. We all enjoyed the walks, the crisp morning air awakening our senses, the presence of tracks, droppings, spoor and other signs sharpening our awareness to the presence of living creatures amongst us. In the space of six weeks we were able to observe how the bush took an increasing hammering with the dryness, thinning out rapidly, until only a few resilient mopane trees and acacias remained for browsers to feed on. The tone was set during the first walk with close sightings of elephant, and during the entire six week period ellies would continue to feature prominently around the centre. They are the greatest animals, extremely intelligent, incredibly strong, yet can be surprisingly gentle for their bulk. Their silent footsteps, the rumblings of their infrasound communication, their wise gaze that seems to convey quiet secrets, their habits of suddenly vanishing into the bush, turning themselves into 'Elephantoms', the realization that there still remains a lot to be learnt about them, all these add up to give this animal its awesome appearance, bordering almost on mystique. Ian's stories about his encounters with quite a few cunning individuals served as an additional reminder that these animals - like every other animal - have to be paid the respect they deserve. As though to prove the point, later on the course, during two game drives in a place where elephants were less accustomed to the presence of people, we were charged twice by angry females protecting their calves - fortunately on neither side were there any casualties.
The predominant presence of the largest land mammal notwithstanding, one of the most interesting aspects of the Antares course definitely was its emphasis on the more tiny and 'unusual'. Not only were we taught that every small creature has its role to play, we were also encouraged to have a closer look at them, and to make our own personal discoveries. People so often come to Africa with only the Big Five in mind, yet the bush has much more to offer, and many more stories can be told about even its tiniest organisms. We discovered the beauty of a baboon spider, and the clever traps made by the larvae of antlion. We tasted leaves of shrubs to understand their chemical defenses, and learned to avoid the toxic smokes of tamboti trees. Trees more in particular proved an inexhaustible source of information. We marveled at the age that some of the trees we walked among can attain, up to 3,000 years, and how they are respected by those believing them to be the ancestors of their people. Some trees and shrubs, by their shape alone, lend themselves to fascinating philosophies, such as the buffalo thorn with its zigzagging branches (like life that is never straight forward), with thorns pointing backwards (to the past) as well as forwards to the future. Or the sweet custom of presenting the kernel of a marula fruit as a token of friendship, indicating how greatly these kernels are valued. Stories like these, and many more, showed how intricate the relationship of many African peoples with their natural environment still is - and more than once it crossed my mind that, for all our material wealth, we as people from countries regarded more 'developed' have definitely become poorer in our estrangement from nature.
I myself was particularly captivated by termite society, whose large, impressive mounds, called termitaria, are such a conspicuous feature of the African landscape. Termites are very ancient insects, and as a matter of fact, a termite mound is by far the oldest type of organized community found on earth. Learning about the way their societies are organized, one cannot but feel impressed, and perhaps a little embarrassed. There are mounds containing populations that equal some of our largest cities. Yet, compared to our own cities, they are amazingly clean and tidy, sewage problems are nonexistent, and despite their crowded home, hard work is done in an orderly fashion without anyone exerting authority or dominance over others. Differences based on gender, rank or seniority do not exist, or are irrelevant at best. Tiny and 'primitive' as they may look to us, termites certainly have mastered the art of living together successfully on a footing of complete equality. How discipline is maintained in these remarkable communities, remains one of the intriguing questions the bush presents us with.

Apart from ellies and insects, various other animals were spotted, including buffalo, hippo, waterbuck, wildebeest, zebra, giraffe, impala, bushbuck, nyala, grey duiker, steenbok, Sharpe's grysbok - reflecting the enormous variety of antelope species on this continent. There was lion and leopard spoor around the centre, and a few times we heard their vocalizations, but they proved to be too elusive and we were unsuccessful in tracking them down. There were snakes: a cobra, boomslang and the tiny thread snake. A huge, menacing-looking transvaalicus scorpion sent us silent. We also had great sightings of some of the raptors, including goshawks, Bateleur and Wahlberg's eagle, as well as the lovely little ones, such as the various kingfishers, the Little Bee-eater, and the Lilac-breasted Roller, to mention only a few.
Central in all our walks and drives was the emphasis on bush etiquette: it was good to be made aware of certain ethical codes of conduct so as to minimize our disturbance. Lessons like these instilled a pride in us to leave behind nothing but our footprints only.

Days were long but exciting, with lectures, presentations, exams and catering duties. Only in the evenings did we find time to prepare for the Friday exams, causing many of us to develop serious sleep deficiencies. But there was time for fun and relaxation as well. Smoking cigars around the campfire, with Itamar playing his guitar. Clearing trees that were pushed over roads by the ellies. Sylvio and André making it a habit of catching a scorpion every night, which they showed to me in an enamel mug, after which we sat to determine its name. There were heated discussions about the role of religion in life, and we felt honoured that a pair of pearl spotted owl had chosen one of the nearby trees as their nesting site. Looking at the moon's cratered surface through Ian's telescope provided an unforgettable, moving experience. We had fun when celebrating George's 21st birthday, in true English style, and I am sure we elders envied him for having such an important day celebrated in the African bush, of all places. There was another special birthday when Ian and Mel's son Cary celebrated his very first. We will remember the happy smiles of a true 'bushbaby'. Fun was made of the grey go-away bird and the little chinspot batis, whose call, descending by three tones, proved the inspiration for many a mischievous one-liner ('beat my wife' being one of the kindest).
Occasionally, on Saturdays, we went to town (Phalaborwa), to have a quick look at our emails and connect briefly with 'outer world', but I think we all were always glad to return back to the center. Few things in life can beat an early morning coffee with rusks, watching the morning sequence of animals visiting the waterhole - guinea fowl, warthog, vervet monkeys - or the graceful flight of the southern yellow billed hornbill, elegantly gliding among the trees against the backdrop of an African sunrise.

For all its beauty, the bush is not a place for false sentiments. It presents life in its rawest form, with animals usually dying violent deaths. But at the same time it is honest and straightforward. Plants and animals go quietly about their own life, fulfilling their role in that intricate web called nature, as they have been doing for millions of years. They are perfectly capable of sustaining a system without our interference. Indeed, they are better off. For us, there was the quite humbling realization that, from nature's point of view, our very own species, at the end of the day, really do not matter that much.

With thanks to
Ian, Mel, and my classmates for the inspiration and the experience of a lifetime

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