The baker-

Baking is something that I thought would fall by the wayside while in Etosha – I can’t just nip down the road to get some ingredients when I feel like baking and I am dealing with a pretty primitive communal kitchen. By primitive I mean we have an oven but it burns the base of everything, we have a cake pan but only one and the bench, pantry and fridge space is at premium. But seemingly, I am baking more than normal. I have started baking enough fresh white bread to feed the camp and I’ve also learnt the art of bagel making, tortilla creation and rye bread baking. And as usual I am making far more cookies, cupcakes and cakes than is needed and in doing so am fattening up the entirety of the Etosha.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The tyre changer-

Thanks to Etosha’s rocky, potholed roads I have actually managed to change my first (second, third, fourth and fifth) tyre. While I have been taught to change a tyre back home, a flat tyre had never eventuated. And heck, let’s be honest- I paid for RACQ so if I did get a flat I wasn’t changing it myself. So my recent tyre changes were learning experiences. Particularly the last one. The first three were destroyed in the first two months as they weren’t new and Etosha’s roads wear down tyres like I never imagined, so the spares went on. The last two were punctured just days apart. That last flat came in the middle of the park, on the main road between camps and in changing the tyre I learnt two things:Tourists suck: Hazard lights + jack + waving crazily doesn’t equal a car stopping. The only car coming past carried two twenty-something male tourists who don’t even slow down. That doesn’t do much for one’s self esteem! Speedy change: With a lack of a second person around I was on tyre change and don’t get eaten by lion duties simultaneously. There wasn’t going to be someone to warn me that “There are lions incoming!” so I beat my personal best and got my tyre on in no time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The mechanic-

Those of you that know me would probably roll on the floor in hysterics after imagining me under the hood of the car. But I promise, I’m learning. After all, the washboard Etosha roads break things quicker than you can fix them- they have broken two door latches, a welded-on protector plate, a mud flap and a set of tyres. There’s also been so many rattles that I’ve lost count. Fortunately my methods (if it moves and it shouldn’t – stabilise it) have fixed all problematic rattles and most of the superficial ones. I’ve also learnt to change my oil, air and fuel filters. Between the excessive dust and the number of kilometres that I drive, it isn’t feasible to drive to Windhoek for every service. So I change my own filters!

 

The birder-

I’ve identified 86 bird species so far. That equates to a new species every 2.5 days spent in the country which for me is amazing. I was never totally naive about birds, I mean I knew a kookaburra from a magpie but I’ve never been avid about avifauna. My new enjoyment of birding has yet to extend to larks though – larks are just plain tricky – they all look similar and move far too fast for me to keep up. I have managed to identify one lark species and did so with a great enthusiasm that eroded as soon as I tried, and failed, at identifying lark species #2. At least I think it was a lark. The next challenge is getting the birds to sit still – I have taken countless photos of empty trees, lone rocks and blurs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The local-

I hadn’t realised it but I have become a local. When exciting things are happening I get a call to tag along, the bar tenders know my name and drink, and I feel like I am part of the place. Further, I was recently on a safari guided by Dr Richard Estes (if you haven’t heard the name just think of him as THE African animal behaviour guru) and the tour operator called me the ‘resident wildebeest expert’. Admittedly, I was completely daunted with having people think that I was an expert on anything, let alone when the real expert was standing two feet away, but as the day went on I began to feel more comfortable. As the clients asked questions – to anyone that could answer them – about this or that I began to realise I actually knew something. I knew why rhinos had their horn tips removed (park staff remove them whenever they have a rhino sedated to put on transmitters), I knew why the group hadn’t seen many big bull giraffe (because many had died in the last month), I knew why certain springbok seemed anxious around jackals (those particular jackals have made a habit of pushing springbok into the trough to drown them, only to drag them out and chow down) and I actually knew the answer to “what is that bird?” (even when they weren’t pointing out an ostrich!). When you are doing a PhD, especially one where you are surrounded by such amazingly knowledgeable people, you can feel like a fraud. I certainly do. I often think that I shouldn’t be working alongside such people. So, for me to realise that I actually knew things made me feel like less of a fraud, still a fraud, but less so. For an hour… '

 

Overall moving to a place like this has taught me many things, far beyond the learnings required for my PhD. Such learnings and experiences have just made me even gladder that I chose to come to Africa rather than work in my own backyard where grocery stores, RACQ and mechanics are numerous and the birds just seem normal.I'm a paragraph. Click here to add your own text and edit me. I’m a great place for you to tell a story and let your users know a little more about you.