The road to hell is paved with good intentions, right? Well, I intended to keep up with this blog on a daily or every other day basis. Long story short, this vacation hasn’t exactly been smooth sailing. I’m tired. I worked too hard at RhinoLand, because my competitive drive tells me I have to keep up with the guys.
I’m in a strange land with strange people. I have limited connection to family and friends and am without my creature comforts. I’ve been on the move constantly and am getting little sleep.
But on top of everything, I’ve been suffering the “less common side effects” of the anti-malarial medication.
I came to Africa with a broken heart, which isn’t a great way to start a vacation that’s been a year in the making, but I thought I could work my way out of the sadness. Not so much. One of the “less common side effects” is depression, to which I’m already prone. It started spiraling, and I’ve had a hard time enjoying myself, even though I repeatedly tell myself, “YOU’RE IN AFRICA, DUMMY! THIS IS YOUR BUCKET LIST, YOUR DREAM!”
I rode to the airport with tears streaming down my face yesterday.

Worse, two nights ago, I was alone in my rather nice cabin (with hot water), and I thought I lost something that I swear I placed in my luggage. An hour or more later, after tearing through my luggage several times, I found what I was looking for, only to realize I lost something else. This vicious cycle went on for over 2 hours. I felt like I was losing my mind, and was afraid that I would be sent home for psychosis. It’s a terrible and horrifying feeling. There were no hallucinations, but I felt like I had to remind myself not to hallucinate. The taxidermied animals on the wall are NOT going to talk to you. Full disclosure, a little paranoia was creeping in. Everyone at the airport was putting marks on me. (That could very well be real, however. Jo’Burg Airport is sketchy as hell.)

After speaking with several people about the season and the effects of this particular drug, I made the decision to stop taking it. Today is better. My eyes aren’t welling up with tears with every thought. I’m with a new group of people … some very funny people. We are laughing and enjoying ourselves.

So, I may come home with rabies.
I may come home with malaria. But it looks like I won’t be coming home early and in restraints.

I’m not a morning person. This getting up Every. Single. Morning. is for the birds. Actually, it’s for the rhinos.
I’ve failed myself when it comes to keeping a detailed account of day to day activities, at least on the blog. I’ve kept simple notes, such as:

Wake up
Drink powdered coffee
Shovel rhino poo in bomas
Clean night pens
Scrub rhino mats
Rake sand
Breakfast (I’m not a breakfast person either, but the work is hard and I have been eating the hell out of some breakfast food, so, more bread)
Meeting
Shovel more rhino poo for the Big Group
Eat more salad
Bag hay
Shovel more rhino poo
Stare at finger and hope to G.O.D. that the meerkat doesn’t have rabies
Clean fence lines for leaves and branches
Rake dirt
Sweep dirt
Eat salad
Sleep

Repeat
Repeat
Repeat

Day Two:
Of course, there are variations and modifications each day, depending on the number of volunteers, camp needs for the day, and behavior of the animals. On Day Two, during our 10:00 meeting, we (the volunteers) were given a stern and somewhat dramatic lecture about the dangers of posting our experience on social media, especially photos with camp employees and guards. As you can imagine, organized crime and the threat of rhino poaching is very real. Volunteers are NOT to make friends with the guards. When I tell you that the security…. armed guards, electric fences, massive metal doors, and barbed wire … is straight out of a scene from Jurassic Park, I’m not kidding. And then, unnecessarily in my opinion, we were shown a video of a rhino after he had been taken down alive, robbed of his horn, and left to suffer and die a slow and painful death. I was pretty put out. I’ve seen it. I know it exists. It’s disgusting and beyond sad. I don’t need to see the video, thankyouverymuch.

We did “clean fences” on Day Two which means pulling/taking leaves and twigs from the fence line. High fences and barbed wire above my head, there were times i mentally convinced myself that I was working in a prison camp. I literally had to stop and tell myself that “I’m here for the rhinos.”

One of the nicer volunteers (more on that later) got a little surprise from the electric fence, because somebody neglected to tell us it was being turned on. That was the perfect time to feed mango leaves to the more tame of the nyala (see previous entry).
By the end of the day, my feet were KILLING ME from all of the walking. I mentioned it to someone who asked if I was okay, and they replied, “You’re a nurse. You should be used to it.” NO. It’s NOT the same. I’m a nurse on a flat surface in a temperature controlled environment.

The highlight of Day Two (YES, there was a highlight!) was joining the Rhino Walk. Someone dropped out and I raised my hand before anyone else had a chance, because I’m an entitled princess. Each day the guards walk the Big Group from the pasture/bush to the camp, and 3 or 4 volunteers follow. Living dinosaurs, relics from beyond the Ice Age, standing, quietly grazing, moving so slowly and almost robotically that at any minute, I’m expecting Ace Ventura to emerge from the backend. But they keep grazing. One of the new guards is frustrated because the rhinos pay him no mind. He shouts, “I’m not any good at this!” I can imagine it takes practice. Did I say the term “stubborn as a mule” should be changed to “stubborn as a rhino”? I stand by that. They know their way “home” and they also know their favorite shortcuts, and will ignore the guards and take off in whatever direction they choose. But they are never alone. Never.

After dinner (salad), I managed to get a tepid shower and I think I washed my hair that night. I was “chosen” (because it’s “only fair that we all take turns”) to do the 9 pm feed that night. It was cold and I went in my PJs. Winona and I made four individual 2 liter bottles and fed them to the rhino toddlers, one 2 liter bottle on each hand. They are technically babies, but are weaning from the milk. It’s heartbreaking to hear their little dolphin noises, and even though it’s just their “sound”, I want to give them a big ol’ hug … IF I could get my arms around them. Honestly, the feeding, lasting all of 15 seconds, makes the cold showers and backbreaking work worthwhile.

Day Three:
Up at 6:30, per usual. Did I mention I’m not a morning person? In case I didn’t, I’m not.
The day was business as usual in rhino world. Today the volunteers were herded down to shovel poo on the route the Big Group walks twice a day.

Thursday (I think… I’m so NOT oriented to day/date/time) is Rhino Weigh In, so each baby is encouraged onto the scale. They respond to a gentle “come come” which sounds like “coo coo” when the folks around here say it. A film crew came through and we were prompted to “look busy”, but no problem there.
I know on this day we walked UP the mountain at least 2, if not 3, times. My legs and butt are exhausted. I’m probably not the fastest person around here, but the one time the group was able to hitch a ride down to the bomas, I was left behind. They waved and drove away. Fortunately, a kind ranch-hand picked me up along the way and saved the day.
We also collected mud this day. I don’t even know what that means.

Cold shower.
Bed at 7 pm.

This is life on the ranch. I don’t know if farm living is the life for me. I am getting allergic smelling hay.

Haaaaay, girl, haaay!

I’d rather not stay on New York either. But that’s why I’m here, right? To determine which road I’ll take next.

Until next time, goodnight party people.

What? Did you think you weren’t going to hear from me so soon? Or were you disappointed that you haven’t yet heard about my exciting adventures? Well, I didn’t want to overwhelm you straight away, but didn’t want to leave you hanging, so let’s pretend I came to the party, but showed up 15 minutes late, ok?

I arrived at the sanctuary mid-afternoon on Monday, and was given a tour by the sweet and beautiful gal that I’d been in contact with over the last several months. That is when I stuck my finger in the meerkat enclosure. She also introduced me to the lions, owls, and bushbabies (OH MY GOD SO FREAKIN ‘ CUTE!!!) No, sillies, I didn’t go in the lion camp, but we DID go into the bushbaby house. (DID I MENTION HOW CUTE??) One of the little guys was pretty shy, but would watch my every move, turning his head and twisting his ears to hear every little sound. The other one took a second to warm up, but eventually licked my hand and crawled right up my arm. So fluffy and soft…and CUTE! Oh, I forgot to mention meeting the baby rhinos. THE BABY RHINOS! They are too much! The sweetest little noises…they sound like dolphins, believe it or not. They are both under 6 months old and have a very regulated diet of about 5 or 6 2 liter bottles a day.

Afterward, I had dinner with a bunch of young strangers from all over Europe and the US. How was the food? Let’s just say I’ve been eating a lot of salad. I mean, a lot of salad.

To make things easy (for me, because the truth is, I’ve been working my ass off and haven’t felt like writing), I’ll give you the schedule of each day so far.
Don’t get me wrong. It’s been a blast, but it’s not easy.

So, First Official Full Day:

  05:45 Wake up, no time for showers, but who would want one with no hot water?

  06:30 Morning meeting, break into teams (Thor, Quarantine, Cats). Since much of Thor (named after a rhino that didn’t survive), went into Kruger for the day, I was assigned to Thor.    

  07:00 Clean the stalls…by cleaning, I mean shoveling rhino poo and shoveling hay covered in rhino poo. Clean the mats covered in rhino poo. Scrub the stalls covered in rhino poo. Sweep and rake everything… literally everything. We sweep dirt. I’m going to come home and say, “You know, the yard is looking a little unkept. We need to sweep the yard.”

For Melissa, the bathroom at the barn.

  09:00 Walk up the mountain for breakfast. I’ve eaten a lot of bread. Bread and salad. Let’s talk about the coffee. Powdered coffee with boiled water. And you know what? It wasn’t terrible. No Nespresso, but not terrible either.

  10:00   Volunteer meeting where we learned that one of the animals was attacked by a jackal the night before and didn’t survive.

10:30 Bag hay. Hay itches. It really, really itches. More raking and sweeping. I think I may have been handed a couple of cans of cornflower blue spray paint to paint the tops of the rakes and brooms. You know I was in heaven. I told them, “Give me some paint and glue and I’m happy.” I had to clarify that I am NOT a huffer, I’m just crafty.

  13:00 Lunch. More salad.

  14:00 Bag more hay. Sneak pictures of rhinos. Fill water buckets. (I’m pretty good at that… just standing there.) Then the Thor leader grabs 4 of us to walk the nyala camp. Me feeding a nyala. 

Mind you, the other three that walked the camp were all about 16-20 years old. We met up with one of the men that runs the camp and helped unload a huge (and heavy) metal trap. Four of us carried up it the hill, until we came upon the carcass of the nyala that was killed over the night. I never would have guessed what type of animal she was, as the jackals ran off with the front legs. We set the trap and walked the camp looking for the front legs and shoulders (which I found). We walked the fence around the entire nyala camp looking for holes where the jackals and caracals sneak in to attack the animals. The “walk” ended up being a hike, as our leader started up a steeeeeep mountain. The kids said they would take the easy way around, but because I’m a total show off, I said, “I need the workout,” and followed up the mountain. Needless to say, I’m freaking exhausted by the time we reached the rhino camp. It may be winter here, but it’s HOT.

16:00  I fed the baby rhinos. I FED THE BABY RHINOS!!! I can’t get pictures. They finish off a 2 liter bottle in about 15 seconds. By the time someone gets their camera, it’s over. Afterward while cleaning up, leader came in the barn kitchen and closed the doors, telling us not to move. Two of the rhinos escaped their boma and were casually walking around in the larger enclosure. They were herded back in, but when I tell you that herding rhinos is like herding turtles, I’m not kidding.
Some other stuff happened before dinner, but I have no recollection of any of it.

 18:00 Dinner. More salad.

 19:00 Lukewarm shower

20:00 Bed (bottom of bunkbed to he exact.) Did I sleep like a baby? Not at all.

My cabin… with the wild dogs (of course) 

My roomie is Wynonna, a 17 year-old high school student from Johannesburg, whose mother is sending her to participate in various animal experiences before she decides on a career working with animals. She’s sweet, quiet, reserved, and I’m older than both of her parents, but we get along quite well, and kind of stick together. Most of the folks here already knew each other and, to be honest, are quite cliquey, but they’re young, and I’m really not that interested in them any more than they are interested in me. Of course, no one is being rude, just not inclusive or overly friendly. But me? I go from trying too hard because Everyone. Must. Like. Me! to really not having time or energy to give a damn.

Anyhoo, that’s enough of Day One.
I’ll post Day Two later tonight (or tomorrow). To be honest, it’s all running together and I’m afraid I am going to forget everything! I know it’s a LOT, but truth be told, I’m keeping this more as a journal for myself than anything. To write all of this out on paper would destroy my delicate man-hands. (Surprisingly, my nails have never looked this good!)
So, I’ll keep posting and you can keep reading. Honestly though, Day Two was pretty exciting. I saw some things. I did some things. Just hold your horses party people, and I’ll tell you allllll about it. Later.

Day one at the rhino sanctuary: I was bitten by a meerkat. Cute, but mean little f’ers. Have to go into town to get rabies vaccination tomorrow. Not too excited about that, but all of this makes for a good story, right?

I’d love to tell you about the trip to the sanctuary, but I have other things on my mind right now…. like, how in the hell did I let this happen on MY FIRST DAY?! I haven’t even done any work! I JUST GOT HERE!

I also hear the malaria pills might cause hallucinations and psychosis. So I’m going to be psychotic and foaming at the mouth.

Stay tuned.