We have joined with all of the senior couples in our mission for a 2-day retreat at the Nambiti Game Reserve near Ladysmith. We're under the direction of our wonderfully talented mission president, President Kip Thompson, and are enjoying a spiritually uplifting and exciting adventure in the African bush. There are 22 of us gathered, and as we experienced in the MTC, there is a lot of talent, wisdom, experience, and faith densely packed into this group. It is a privilege to be here.

In between sessions of conference and seemingly endless eating, our plan is to break up into small groups, climb aboard Toyota Land Cruisers, and join rangers from the reserve to go on safari. The Nambiti comprises 22,000 acres and contains Africa's Big Five - lion, leopard, elephant, water buffalo, and rhinocerous, and a wide variety of other species including giraffe, zebra, jackal, hippo, warthog, impala, and others. 

As seems to be true of just about anything Dottie and I do, it always takes a while for us to transition from one activity to the next. Our first foray into the bush this afternoon left us both nonplussed. For three hours we bounced and careened over tortured roads to find animals that mostly were too distant for us to clearly see. Even an encounter with a small group of lions was unimpressive as our attitudes were of the sort that nothing less than eye witnessing an actual kill would overcome the mixed feelings we had about leaving our mission work behind in Richards Bay. After returning to camp, we both had second thoughts about waking up at 4:00 a.m. tomorrow morning for another trip into the bush.

Tuesday, October 12, 2016

My hesitation about going out on another teeth rattling drive quickly faded as we set out on today’s early morning adventure. As I experienced in Hawaii during a family vacation a few years ago, and every time I take a trip into the mountains, it always takes some time for me to transition from an activity I’m deeply involved in and then relax and become open to the fullness of something new. This morning I was ready, and the experience was spectacular. During yesterday’s outing, the ranger taught us to be watchful for situations where animals are alert and all looking in the same direction. This usually indicates a predator is nearby and that the animals have become aware of it and are tracking it. As we came around a bend and up a rise this morning, we caught sight of a group of giraffe and a herd of impala all intently staring off into the same direction. Accompanying the stares, were intermittent barking sounds made by the impala as they nervously twitched about and communicated news of the threat to each other. As I observed the giraffe, I was struck by two things: first, their majestic beauty, and second, their positioning. Three of them, with heads held high above the tall grasses and trees surrounding them, were spaced in a somewhat triangular pattern and stood motionless, keenly focused on a threat that was still unknown to us. Their majesty and positioning reminded me of sentinels, watchmen on the towers as the Old Testament prophet, Ezekiel, writes, standing to warn others of impending danger. As this thought crossed my mind, feelings from a powerful memory came to mind. I remembered Dottie and I coming home from Provo one stormy evening and the feelings of apprehension we experienced as we made our way down the Point of the Mountain through the heavy rain and traffic and into the Salt Lake Valley. Because of the conditions, we were highly alert and focused on the moment at hand, on guard for any danger that might arise. Then, through the storminess and heavy feelings, the light from three of God’s temples - the Ochre Mountain, the Draper, and the Jordan River, came into view. The temples stood as sentinels for us, and immediately our apprehension faded, and we knew the way forward would be fine. I’m not sure what brought this memory to mind, whether the positioning of the giraffe, the intensity of the situation, or both; but whatever it was, time on the veldt of South Africa stood still as I was caught up in a sacred moment and reminded of the sentinels in my life. 

We waited patiently for the tension between hunted and hunter to resolve itself, and eventually it did as two young, adult lions slowly emerged from the tall grasses. Astonishingly, they made their way directly toward us, every movement exuding grace, rhythm, and power. They commanded the complete attention of every living thing in the area. It’s one thing to say that the lion is king of the beasts. It’s an entirely different thing to witness it. With our breaths held, they passed immediately to the side of our vehicle, so close we easily could have touched them had we wanted to. As they moved into the open, now clearly visible to every creature around us, the scene immediately changed. The giraffe sentinels rejoined the other members of their group and they, along with the impala herd, quickly moved off to a safer distance. Within minutes, the scene that had incredibly unfolded before us ended. We began breathing again and with the start of the land cruiser’s motor, moved on to another area of the reserve. Any reluctance I had felt about being on safari had passed. My transition was complete.

While our experience with the giraffe, impala, and lions was taking place, another drama was unfolding a short distance away, one we had some ties to. Earlier in the morning, we had come upon a group of giraffe feeding on a distant hillside. Our driver tracked them through a set of binoculars and after some careful study informed us that one of them was in the process of giving birth. Even in the wild places of Africa, witnessing an animal birth is a rare occurrence. The process was well underway as two of the unborn's legs were exposed and extended about three feet out from the back of the mother. All of us were excited to be part of the experience, but the animals were just too far away for us to make out any detail. Even with binoculars, it was difficult to see what was taking place. We waited for some time hoping the animals would move closer to us, but reluctantly we finally gave up and moved on, disappointed we had missed out on such a unique experience.

Our disappointment was short lived, as we only travelled a short distance before becoming involved in the lion encounter previously described. As this experience came to an end, and we watched the animals disperse, I was struck by the irony that with all the tension and drama we had witnessed, nothing had really been resolved. The lions did not appear to be preparing for a hunt, and in fact actually seemed to be moving in a direction away from the prey at hand. I was puzzled by this for a moment and then was struck by this thought: Maybe the lions weren't interested in the impala or the giraffe at all. Maybe they were onto something else. And then I noticed the direction the lions were heading. It was toward the area where the newborn giraffe was probably taking its first, faltering steps. I turned to the ranger and asked if the lions could sense the birth from this great a distance. As she started the motor of the land cruiser and shifted the transmission into gear, she simply said "Yes," and then let out the clutch and away we went. Tension had returned to the Nambiti.