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.