Taking leave of civilization (and my senses)

After a brief stopover in Cape Town, it was time to move on to my real reason for traveling to South Africa. You see, I had several weeks of classes to attend.

I decided to take a safari field guide training course. This is where you go off to a game reserve in the African bush for four weeks; give up modern amenities like electricity, hot water, and common sense; and train to become a certified safari field guide. In theory, you could then go on to get a job with a game lodge taking tourists out to view African wildlife. At the end of the course, you have the option of sitting for the FGASA (Field Guides Association of Southern Africa) certification exam, the passing of which entitles you to work as a safari field guide. In fact, many of my fellow students did just that; at least one is now working as a "professional" guide in Botswana. You also have the option of goofing off, like I did.

"Now Caton," you say, "why would you go off and do a thing like this? What inspired you to spend four weeks tempting fate among African wildlife?" As it would happen, I have two very good reasons. My reasons are as follows: (1) I wanted to, and (2) I could. So there.

My goofing off aside, the program is rather intense. Each morning, we were up and away by 5:30, and the day typically concluded around 7:30 each night. According to the company that facilitated the training, the program's daily schedule is as follows (my comments are in captions):

"We follow a routine of rising early, typically before sunrise, drinking coffee and biscuits and then leaving camp for an outing in the wilderness [By the way, I've no idea why they thought it necessary to put some of these words in bold. They just did.]. The outing could be a game drive following up on the roar of a lion heard during the night, a walk learning about the plant species in the area, or a trip to the garbage dump to practice dry heaving thanks to the putrid odors [Okay, I added that one, but they did make me do that one day. It wasn't pleasant.]. Students return to camp late in the morning for a hearty brunch which is followed by a lecture on the subject of the day. Study and rest time is then followed by afternoon tea and another outing into the wilderness until sunset (if walking) or well after dark (if doing a game drive)."

That's all fine and good, but I've compiled a better representation of our daily regimen. Please note that the following schedule is presented in military (i.e., 24 hour) time. If this confuses you, please take care to avoid other dangerous and confusing activities, such as operating kitchen cabinets. That said, here's my daily regimen:

05:00: Wake-Up call from "on duty" students (those that had to prepare the biscuits and coffee before everyone else wakes up). Ignore them and pretend to be asleep.

05:08: Begrudgingly wake up after "on duty" students (or course instructors) make snide comments to one another about how lazy you are for sleeping in until eight past five in the morning. Curse self for failing to cover a portion of your body with the mosquito net while asleep.

05:15: Stumble to toilet. Do your business, albeit with very poor aim.

05:20: Poor cup of tea. Scald self with hot water. Mutter expletive to self under one's breath.

05:28: Scramble to get dressed in time for 05:30 departure. Hope a scorpion hasn't found its way into your clothing as you dress.

05:32: Feign incredulity when instructor informs you that you are late for 5:30 am bush walk; insist that you're on time according to your watch.

05:33: Begin game walk.

05:35: Lose interest in game walk.

07:30: Take break from game walk, ask instructor about life in Angola in the early 1980's (because it's actually quite interesting). When conversation topic turns to foreign affairs, patiently remind the Dutch students that you have no direct control over American foreign policy. 

07:45: Re-commence game walk. Begin to enjoy game walk now that you're awake.

08:13: Inadvertently step into golden orb web spider's web for the third time of the day. Apologize to said spider and remove web pieces from your hair. Contain urge to scream like girl when spider crawls up your arm.

10:30: Return to camp. Eat eggs, bacon, and toast as if you haven't eaten in a week. Complain about sweetness of orange juice (from concentrate), to which the camp cook refuses to add enough water.

11:00: Arrive for daily lecture, try not to fall asleep thanks to the combination of the heat and a full stomach.

13:00: Commence afternoon "study" break. Rather than study, take nap, followed by rousing game of beach volleyball in the nearby riverbed.

15:30: Afternoon tea break. Wonder aloud how a combination of white bread, sliced tomatoes, and mustard qualifies as "tea food."

16:00: Commence afternoon game drive. Repeatedly stall Land Rover. Blame the Land Rover for its refusal to shift into second gear. Insist that you never have this problem at home.

17:23: Nearly get eaten by lion when sitting on the tracker's seat (due to other student driver not noticing said lions and nearly running over them). See photo of "tracker's seat" at right; it's the guy at the front of the Land Rover.

18:43: Discuss differences in the Portuguese and Spanish languages with Portuguese co-student. Decide that Portuguese is way too complicated and ask why on Earth they thought it necessary have a separate language from the rest of the Iberians (i.e., the Spanish) anyway.

20:15: Arrive back at camp for dinner. Devour poor-quality steak like a homeless dog.

20:45: Exhausted, trudge to bed and fall fast asleep.