By Evie
It was my first night at the reserve and I was sitting around the fire, eating braai (South African barbecue) with complete strangers, and honestly feeling a little anxious and uncomfortable. Halfway through the dinner, a ranger stood up and pointed to the far end of the camp. Sure enough, 3 elephants were walking straight through our camp! An adult elephant can reach 13 feet in height and although that sounds tall, it doesn’t even begin to put into context how it feels to have one of these massive beasts stare at you as you stand 20 ft away–protected only by a roofed porch. And yet, it’s not scary at all. In fact, as I learned from watching them over the coming months, elephants are more mischievous than aggressive, provided you give them their space, of course.
When I started my gap year, I knew I wanted to go below the equator and skip the northeast winter. I also knew I wanted to spend time working with animals. When I put these together, I found myself in South Africa on a game reserve. I spent 6 weeks total in South Africa, but my favorite were the two weeks I spent on a research project on the Makalali Reserve. Each morning, we woke up before the sun to complete all sorts of projects around the reserve before it became too hot. Mondays and Fridays were for road repair after massive flooding shut down most of the roads. We hauled rocks and shoveled gravel, while watching our backs for scorpions and snakes.
Other days we set off into the reserve on foot in hopes of catching a glimpse of the ever-elusive and extremely endangered black rhinos. Unlike other animals, no technology was allowed to track or record data on their whereabouts and activities on the off-chance it could be hacked by poachers. Due to this, at least one team on the reserve, whether the researchers (us), anti-poaching teams, or guest groups, had to lay eyes on each rhino at least once every 24 hours.
On days not spent hiking or hauling rocks, we would set out at 4:30 am to try and track and record information on as many animals as possible. We recorded anything from an up-close cheetah spotting to a far-away pair of hawks to the remains of hyena prey left out from the night before. But we didn’t even need to leave our camp to see the elephants.
Over the next two weeks, hardly a day went by without an elephant traipsing right past my bedroom window at night or even past the kitchen at mid-day as we sheltered inside from the dry heat. Beyond that, they almost seemed to seek out attention as we drove around the reserve. I started to recognize many of them–like the young male, Mr M (named for the M-shaped tear on his ear) who often passed through camp and seemed to only want to eat from the trees he wasn’t supposed to. Or Craig, who was known for strategically knocking over trees in such a way that they’d fall straight onto our water pump, cracking it open for him to drink out of. On the edge of camp we had a small wading pool to cool off in between game drives. However, I could rarely make use of it because of all the moms and babies who came by and drank the cool water.
Over the two weeks, the elephants came to feel like overgrown teenagers who loved causing trouble. And every time I saw one up close, my heart would start racing and I wouldn’t be able to tear my eyes away. I wanted to savor every minute of this time where looking eye to eye with a gentle giant was normal and elephants were my loud, nightly neighbors.
When I first arrived in Africa, I had hoped that I might cross paths with an elephant or two during my travels. Instead, I learned what it was like to live with them– an experience I will never forget and maybe never have again. As I come to the end of this year, I can safely say that I never expected to miss the elephants just as much as the people I met.
