A Visit to N/a'an ku se Lodge

Yes, I am still here. Over the past 6 weeks I've had a lot going on between Halloween, International Day, Election Day, Veteran's Day. We've had the Marine Corps Ball, a mess of birthday parties (including Margo's), a job interview, car drama, and a regular stream of people coming to our house for a huge landscaping project that couldn't wait any longer (retaining wall/safety kind of thing). The latter has tremendously impacted whatever shell of a routine I managed to carve out since our arrival to Windhoek. I restarted teaching yoga and have signed up for other self-education projects. In short, I've been busy and I found myself without the ability to express pride, joy, angst, confusion, or sadness about these events. I didn't feel like I had any rhythm. Also, I didn't want to sound like a humble bragger or whiner. It's very unbecoming. 

After a pity party and a good dose of STFU, I made reservations to visit an animal sanctuary and lodge to get out of the city limits for the day. The inspiration morbidly came from my friend who took her family the week before, where a lion (the same one we would see), charged the fence in the direction of her five year old kid. Our guide would inform us, it was his way of establishing dominance and had he really wanted to attack, no fence, electrified or not, would stop him. It piqued my motivation so I signed us up for the Sunday 10:00am carnivore feeding at N/a'an ku sê Lodge and Sanctuary. I figured we all could use a bit of savage animal therapy.

Even the car ride out was therapeutic. Though sluggish, rainy season has arrived and the thirsty brown landscape took on a new look with green trees and bushes against a never ending sky and dirt roads. The kids couldn't help themselves. They screamed with discovery when they saw scrappy wild baboons, warthogs, and herds of oryx and zebra from the back seat, losing any hope to take picture. Once we checked in (the customer service here is very good), we explored the premises and not-so-silently tracked colored lizards to the edge of a cliff that houses marmots, turtles, and weird bugs. 

The tour was pretty good. The guide gave the standard wildlife monologue, but also kept the kids engaged. They delighted in his collection of juice box offerings and his bucket of animal meat. He spoke about how the sanctuary's baboons are all vegetarian orphans, no longer able to assimilate in the wild; how cheetahs behave like domesticated dogs; that the African wild dogs always hunt in packs, and will tear an animal to pieces in less than 5 seconds, ensuring a quick death.

At each stop our guide diligently reminded us to be aware of the electrified fences.  Some places we could hear electricity humming, others not so much. Anxiety raged through my body only once or twice when the kids walked too close to the fences as they enthusiastically waved sticks around. Visiting the caracals, one lady announced that she had touched the fence and found it wasn't electrified at all. She seemed royally disappointed, and the guide seemed to not quite register her declaration. I decided ignorance was bliss on this matter especially when we got to the lions. After a few minutes of calling the kitties over, the same lion that charged our friend's son, sprinted toward Mark as he wandered up the dirt road, separated only by 2mm thick wire. Feeling that was probably a good end to the tour we finished up unharmed and exhilarated. 

We returned to our car dusty and hungry. Thank goodness for intelligent design- the lodge has solar panels built on finely lashed wood supports, which double as shaded parking spaces. It saved us from hot seats, warm water bottles, and spoiled turkey and cheese sandwiches. Normally I would pack heat durable PBJs but the kids don't like them! They are so weird. But the children devoured their meals like the wild animals they are and passed out in the merciful air conditioning for a quiet rode home.  

Coming up over this hill literally stopped us in our tracks. 

A crabby, screeching marmot and his sidekick.

Lunch 

Waiting for her brother and sister to join the party.
As siblings, they cannot and do not mate in the wild or captivity.

Spotted leopard.

Full of attitude: a hissing caracal. 

After calling for several minutes, the dogs were a no-show.
We headed to the other side of the property where they appeared
out of nowhere and rapidly closed in on their object of affection: meat waiting to be tossed overhead.

Taking his sweet time to get lunch.