There is something magical and memorable about first times, be it the first steps of a child, falling in love for the first time, starting out at your very first job or the sharp pain of your first heartache which allows you to grow and experience other new firsts.
A first for me that stands out beyond many others is the first time I appreciated the value of wide open natural spaces. This appreciation developed the first time I officially left home, to attend university in South Africa’s capital city, Pretoria, at the tender age of seventeen. To set the scene, I grew up on a dairy farm, my entire life up until this point was defined by bountiful space and natural surrounds. I wore homemade clothes and the only real rule I remember was “Have fun, look after each other and be home before sunset”. My three siblings and I were unstoppable, the forts we built, the endless games in the dam, fishing, horse riding, hide and seek, tubing down rivers, more forts, this was our bliss. Trips to urban areas were limited to the monthly grocery shop, school and sports events. Two out of three of these occasions were still mostly outdoors.
My first months in the city were overwhelming to say the least, as a first year student I was required to sing and dance in front of the entire university and confined to a room the size of one of my old forts on the farm. Strict curfews dictated what I could do as well as where and when I could go anywhere. Buildings! Everywhere buildings! Not to mention the street lights, I couldn’t get used to the artificial light coming through my window at all hours of the night and the distinct lack of darkness and stars. So completely and noticeably out of my depth my friends called me “Sheep in the big city”. I think this was after a cartoon with the same title, the lone farm girl, well and truly out of her natural habitat.
Learning that nature and space was a privilege and not a norm, I became highly aware of others’ reactions to raw landscapes and vastness.
Another one of my standout firsts was seeing, for the first time, the sheer size of an elephant. Mine and one other family decide to overland into the Okavango Delta in Botswana. I was eight so that would make the year 1996. This was not something my family just did, ever, thinking back on it now, I wonder what they were thinking. Four adults and six children under the age of twelve, and off we went camping through the Botswana wilderness. At each campsite we all had our usual duties, of which collecting firewood was one of my tasks.
On one such occasion my mom and I slipped out of sight to make use of the bush “loo” and gather whatever wood we could find. Out of nowhere we were surrounded by a herd of elephants. I know you’re thinking impossible, who wouldn’t see an elephant let alone an entire family. My mom was waving frantically to get my attention and get us the hell out of there while I was staring, bewildered, at the belly of this monstrosity of an animal who so gracefully snuck up on us. My mother finally yanked me to my senses and got me to move, while all I could say was “What about our fire wood?” mindful of the importance of the task at hand, but completely unaware of the obvious danger that the elephants presented.
To me this beautiful creature, so calm gently feeling for food with her agile trunk meant us no harm, she was just on the same pursuit of sustenance, mine through the collection of firewood to cook on and hers to fill that wrinkly grey belly in front of me. It is always in retrospect that you really appreciate these moments. I encourage myself on a daily basis now, to be more present and absorb all that I am blessed with in each moment.
Learning that wildlife and their existence is to be fought for and not a norm I became highly aware of the delicate balance between nature and man.
I have shared in a number of African firsts. The first time my North American partner came to South Africa we decided to go on a safari in the Hluhluwe-iMfolozi Park. Not even 10 metres into the park, the vehicle came to a screeching halt. He had spotted a “deer” more commonly known as an Impala. We watched as the herd of around twenty animals made their way out of the thicket around us. Busily fluffing their tales, chomping at the grass, babies skipping after their parents. His joy and excitement, being just the two of us and this herd of Impala reset me. It restored that realisation of how beautiful the wild is and that the wildlife it encompasses is a gift, not to be taken for granted. Our drive to the lodge was filled with firsts, mine through renewed eyes and his, the purest excitement of what a first should be.
On another occasion, this time hosting guests in Zimbabwe’s Hwange National Park, our guide identified the deep rumble of a lion’s roar. He knew the sound well and his energy spiked with the power of that roar. Seated behind me in the vehicle were two first timers, safari first timers. We navigated the bush eagerly tracking in the direction from which the roar had come, until there in plain sight stood a proud male lion, his head held high as he roared into the wind. Our guide explained, “He is calling for his brother”. My heartbeat had quickened and the hairs on the back of my neck stood taller with the power of his call. I turned to my guests behind me to share in the moment and saw that the two men had tears streaming down their faces. There it was again, the pure joy and emotions of an unforgettable first time. Tears welled in my eyes too. The roars continued. Here we were blessed by the power of Africa, her wildlife and her wide open spaces, a first that should not be missed.
I continue to cherish not only my firsts, but also the firsts of those around me, in African travel one is blessed with many. I equally praise the efforts to conserve and protect our green spaces and the wildlife that inhabit them. I encourage you to take the leap into whatever your next first might be, maybe it’s the one that you have been tempted to pursue or experience but haven’t yet had the chance. Or maybe it’s a first time experiencing African travel, if that is the case, I will warn you that though it might be your first, it certainly won’t be your last.
I look forward to seeing you on safari and planning “your first time” together.
Thank you for joining the journey
– Gemma
