A Day of Eland

After a week of heavy rain, fog and mist we were hesitant to travel to our shopping town for a soggy weekend. Its charms are clearly outdoor activities like game spotting on the hill, hiking or bird watching. However, having business in town and needing to go to the post office, we got up at 5 am, looked out the window and sighed at more fog and rain. By 6:10 am Mr. Zulu’s taxi was almost full due to the high school students completing their examinations and wanting to go home. We were fortunate to get the last two spots for the ride to town. Mr. Zulu drove very cautiously, demonstrating his expertise that anticipates every curve and unseen obstacle. The road is treacherous under ideal conditions with cows, goats and pedestrians appearing from nowhere, stalled cars and taxis racing each other to town.

Halfway down the mountain the fog lifted and our mood brightened at the sight of the gorgeous mountains, forests, badlands, and new spring flowers of Zululand. By the time we arrived in town, the sun was shining and our spirits were soaring. After our business was done we headed up the Vryheid Hill to see the game and new spring flora. The short hike to the game preserve was amply rewarded with many beautiful birds that have returned from the north. The big surprise was the herd of eland at the top of the hill enjoying the new grass. Usually game spotting requires hiking to the summit and then continuing down the slope to a plateau. The game look like brown rocks from the summit which start moving as one gets closer. Today the elands and impala were grazing on the fresh green grasses at the summit. Two solo bucks startled us in their huge magnificent forms silhouetted along the mountain ridge. They are among the largest of the antelopes and dwarfed the zebras nearby. Farther down on the slope we spotted more “brown rocks” which amazingly was a herd of 50 eland with their newborn young. They were grazing with impalas as escorts. The new mothers watched us intently and began to move away. We quietly back off and headed back to town.

Such is life in Africa as a Peace Corps volunteers. When you are discouraged and hate the conditions, amazing events occur and your hate is replaced with awe and love. Each day brings new experiences that may be raw but make one feel alive in contrast to the dull routines of life in the first world.

A conversation with a group of British tourists on Sat. night brought the reality of life in the first world and the lack of understanding about the scope of the AIDS pandemic. The Brits were part of a tour group that stops in Vryheid to tour the Anglo Boer War battlefields. They were incredulous when we explained our work as Peace Corps volunteers at Mountain High Hospital. “Are there really people sick with AIDS in this country” was their query. They had been in South Africa for two weeks and had no inkling of the ravages of this disease. In contrast, the disease came even closer than the patients whom I only know as sick people. A handsome heavyset hospital driver who charmed everyone with his clownish personality has grown very thin and come down with pneumonia. An office mate has lost weight drastically and is on ARVs. Both of these men are my friends and I am hurt as their countenance is gloomy and their eyes have lost their sparkle. Who is next to be emaciated, plagued with skin ailments, mouth sores and severe diarrhea? AIDS seems to zap one’s personality as people in their prime years (25years to 40) become literal skeletons of their former selves. All South Africans should be tested, if only to reduce the stigma. Fear of being labeled as HIV positive prevents people from being tested. Without a test they cannot obtain the ARV’s that will keep them healthy and productive.