A Cow's Life

Each day, 6 days per week, my work morning begins leisurely at 8:00 am by bringing in each of the milking cows to feed and manually de-tick them.  Yes you read correctly, de-tick the cows.  At first the thought of removing ticks from each cow with my bare hands was slightly revolting; every morning each cow has acquired about 10-25 ticks since the previous day.  The revulsion continued when a tick accidentally squishes between one’s fingers.  BLEH!  The manual de-ticking occurs because the family farm ethos excludes any pesticides, herbicides, or other chemicals on the animals or the land.  After two weeks? I got used to it, squish and all.

The family farm in the Byrne Valley

The family aims for a (mostly) self-sustainable lifestyle.  If they don’t grow It, harvest it, or raise it, they don’t eat it.  If it is not in season, then they’ll have to wait until next season to re-indulge.  Exceptions are made for personal hygiene items, flour, potatoes, peanut butter, and oatmeal, but not much else.

A few examples:

Farm Kid Strong!

In my quaint studio cottage, I have a small propane tank with an attached burner on top and an electric water kettle.  For the past year, I have been in love with having oatmeal for breakfast (NOT instant!), and was happy to find that this family had a similar routine.  Each morning for breakfast I cook a bowl of oatmeal on the gas and make a laid-yesterday hard-boiled egg in the kettle.

The farm family of 4 and Great Danes of 3

On my first Saturday morning here, 8-year-old daughter Femke asked me if I had breakfasted on oats.  “Yes (that is the only thing I have to prepare)…  Did you, too?”  “No!  I had corn flakes!”  She shared this with me half braggingly, half proud.  As a weekend treat, the kids are permitted an oatmeal deviation on Saturday and Sunday mornings only, and have a big bowl of plain corn flakes.  No added sugar, fruit, or jam, just corn flakes and fresh cow’s milk.  It is a total indulgence for them.  Oh man, I don’t envy being a farm kid.

Working on this farm with kids, I am beginning to understand the farm kid reputation for being strong as oxen and tossing cows single-handedly!  Last night Femke, the 8-year old girl, picked up a 40-pound sloshing bucket of milk and set it on the counter, nearly higher than her head.  A few drops dribbled down her front, but overall she was entirely successful.  She’s only 8!

Terrible Arsonist

I have moved on from the ill lack of security and trust of Johannesburg and have bussed it 6 hours to the tiny little town of Byrne in the Kwazulu-Natal region.  I am revisiting my New Zealand wwoofing adventures to learn more about South African culture.  Wwoofing (Willing Workers On Organic Farms) is essentially work in exchange for room and board with an added desire of cultural exchange.  The traveler/person doing the work is the “wwoofer,” with an expected work contribution of 4-6 hours per day, on average.  No money is exchanged, only work, room, board, and conversation.  As a wwoofer, I’ve restored native vegetation, sold fruit and veg on the side of the road, general house and yardwork, weeded yards, milked cows, dug potatoes, prepared and planted gardens, and now, worked on a small (mostly) self-sustainable family farm.

Almost exclusively, wwoofing hosts, which may be families or large- or small-scale farms, are located far from modern day conveniences of civilization, and this family of four is no exception.  Mom, Dad, and two girls live on a farm as self-sustainably as possible which includes milking goats and cows, chickens (for eggs and broilers), growing dinner piglets, a small citrus orchard and other fruit trees, and a healthy-size vegetable garden.  For income, milk, yogurt and cheese is made/sold, as well as breeding rights/puppies from 3 Great Danes of whom are generously doted.

Soweto: South West Township

The clean, bright, sanity of a large house-converted-backpacker’s-hostel in the suburbs of Johannesburg seemed a welcome change after months living on a Big 5 game reserve.  I lusted the plentiful hot water, spaciousness, ability to walk to a store, and quiet night’s sleep.  As it turned out, many other features accompanied these bounties, mostly less desirable traits such as extremely high crime and lack of personal safety.

"Welcome to Soweto"
Rebecca & I with our tour guide's 2 cousins

The majority of houses in South Africa have nearly insurmountable large concrete fences around the property and bars on all windows.  In my backpacker’s hostel I was installed in an empty 5-bed room in one corner of the house; on my last night I was the only person in the entire backpacker’s.  With lots of time during the day, as well as some much-needed downtime, I discovered all of the (public) nooks and crannies of the house and the large backyard complete with sprawling bar.  As I fell asleep each night, I replayed the house’s layout in my mind.  Virtually, I walked through the corridors and surveyed each window and door. If there was a fire in the kitchen, where would I run?  What if a fire was blazing the corridor to my room?  This was the first location I had laid my head down after leaving C.A.R.E., and I hadn't realized all of the pain that followed me.  My haunting thoughts took in the bars on all of the windows, I could not escape through them unless my body shrank to the size of a toy doll.  How would I get to the front or back doors?  Nightly I terrorized myself with burning house potentials as C.A.R.E. experiences continued to follow me.  Finally by my last night in Joburg my mind reached a suitable, peaceful option of running through a potential inferno with all of the blankets on top of me for protection.  My mind finally quieted for sleep.

On "Leaving C.A.R.E."

Rebecca & I on our last night

After taking in the babies to their indoor sleeping enclosure just before sunset each night, we normally rush back to the Mountain Lodge for showers, dinner, and relaxing.  Instead, for my last night, as well another volunteer’s, Rebecca aka The Vet, we all walked down to the Olifants River beach with wine and snacks to wind down in peaceful nature.  After 10 minutes or so of happy sipping and chatting, we realized we were not alone.  Just down the beach and in some bushes, we were also joined by 2 male elephants.  Our excitement grew as we judged the distance between us.  Even remote close proximity to elephants is not safe, but thankfully we were a safe distance if we remained quiet (and the wind direction did not change).  We peered into the eyes of other creatures that call this area home, admitting the subtle wonder in which we are all connected.

It is customary that a volunteer is not on the schedule their last full day at C.A.R.E.  The day flew by as I ticked off small projects, took pictures, visited baboons I wanted to talk to, and areas I wanted to sit at and reflect.  I felt weird leaving C.A.R.E., mostly overwhelming and confusing.

Life as a C.A.R.E. Volunteer

Not everyone wants to do volunteer work, and volunteering to work with animals (and paying to do so!) is a special class of its own.  While it may seem alluring at first glance, the reality is long days, lots of cleaning, food preparation, and more cleaning.  The animals do not know weekends, nor does your work schedule; work persists 7 days per week.  The very rewarding job is spending time with the animals, being embraced by one of them, and realizing how one can make a difference.  At C.A.R.E. all volunteers are part of a daily schedule of 1-hour shifts; the workday begins at 6:50 and ends around 6:00 pm.

Sitting in my bed with Adam as he woke up/recovered from surgery

AN AVERAGE DAY

6:25 am Wake up!  If you are (un)lucky enough to have an upstairs room, then an earlier wake-up call is courtesy of the wild troop that uses the roof as a playground.  From my quieter downstairs room, I watched dawn from my room every morning in awe.  The sun breaking the horizon is the same miracle that repeats itself day after day, every day the same yet different.  Prepare and feed the dogs, bundle in warm clothes (it is winter here), and quickly head out the door for a brisk commute down the hill.

Walking with arms full of baby baboons

6:50 am The daily volunteer schedule commences at 7:00 am, but everyone must first gather to carry out the two youngest troops of baboons (35 baboons total, all under the age of 1.5 years) to their outdoor enclosures.  Babies, like human children, preferentially choose to whom they gravitate and wish to be embraced.  The first few days or weeks, no babies may jump into your arms, but as they know you (and like you) better, your arms may be replete with 2, 3, or 4 baby baboons!  Safely, volunteers attempt to carry no more than 2 babies at a time, each one riding side-saddle.

Wanted: Intrepid Dog Walker

Wanted

Need four times daily dog walks for Molly & Moya.  Dogs must be walked independently otherwise, they fight with each other.  Walks occur in wild game reserve.  Dog walker must be fearless and prepared.  Regularly sightings include elephants, buffalo, giraffes, lions, and leopards.  Must not let dogs be attacked or eaten by any predators.

Sign me up?

At C.A.R.E. we have 2 dogs, Moya and Molly.  Moya lives in the Mountain Lodge with the volunteers, regularly snuggling up with someone each night, while Molly lives with Rita down in the Milk Kitchen.  In the days following Piet’s attack, I had A LOT of dog-walking shifts and consequently got to know Moya & Molly very well.  My arm hurt too much to be down at my side for long though, and especially hurt to swing so this translated to holding the dog lead in my left hand while my right either rested on top of my head or grasped my shirt collar, both positions uncomfortable and/or annoying. 

Moya with the 5.5 week old orphaned "Tank"

I had been scorned one time during these walks for wandering too far out of the C.A.R.E. gates (i.e. the end of the long driveway and down the road).  In fact, the day I had been “caught” I was at a much shorter distance than I had frequently traversed…  My motivation had been body movement and exercise to replace some of my injury-induced sedentary behavior.  I was getting really restless and yearned for long mind-clearing walks.  About 1 week after my many long dog walks, I was rewarded with quite a frightening, yet extraordinary, sight: 3 male elephants foraging about 600 ft from me.  Amazing!