LISTEN TO THE ELEPHANTS
The pachyderms of Tintswalo can teach us a lot about what’s important in life, says Peta Scop
If you want a day that passes slowly, look up at the sky. Perhaps the clouds are delicate like lace; perhaps they look like ancient fossils. Then sit in the shade of a jackalberry tree (Diospyros
mespiliformis) and watch an elephant walk out of the bush towards you.
Slow things down by not just watching its approach. Look at it. Try to get inside its head and under its skin. It is possible to imagine being an elephant.
During a recent visit to Tintswalo in the Manyeleti Game Reserve, part of the Greater Kruger wilderness, I learnt some wonderful things about wild animals from Wikus Potgieter, a guide with decades of experience who is passionate about sharing his knowledge. The first thing he told me was to be still and listen. And that led to a number of conversations with elephants.
In such conversation, I found out that pachyderms don’t particularly care that Tintswalo Manor House won the national Lilizela Tourism Award as four-star game lodge of the year; what they do care about is that it’s the best place for a long, cool drink at the water hole.
They’re also not particularly interested that the main camp, Tintswalo Safari Lodge, won the five-star game lodge of 2018, but they do love the hosepipe that hangs from a massive jackalberry in the dry river bed, and which the staff switch on when they parade out from behind the line of trees on the far bank.
THE JOY OF WATER
Did you know the collective noun for elephant is a parade? Makes perfect sense. And watching them take turns to let the water run straight into their upturned trunks and then spraying each other is pure joy. For animals and humans.
I’m not sure if Wikus had planned a theory-into-practice event when we stopped for sundowners in the wild, wild veld. He’d explained that elephants have a comfort zone — behind which they are happy to be around humans. So when we saw a large, lone bull in the distance eating foliage and heading east, then turning to face us and walking towards us, I became increasingly anxious. Wikus walked towards the animal, and the two got closer and closer, until it seemed to me we’d be the losers. Our expert tracker and guide, Mpho Malapane, seeing my distress, said firmly: “It will be fine.”
With that, Wikus waved the animal away. And away he went. Both calm. Both secure in their comfort zones. The G&T went gleefully down my throat.
Elephants communicate over distances by picking up signals with their feet. It’s more a feeling than actual hearing, I’m told,
and I try it out by kicking the ground softly when one walks by. He seems to hear me because he stops and stands quietly for a while. And I apologise for being part of the human race who is ruining the planet. I’m not sure what he thought, but I felt better.
While elephants create a parade and zebras are, wonderfully, a dazzle; a gang of buffalo quietly gaze at us as yellow-billed oxpeckers make a meal of the ticks behind their ears.
Talking of food, Manor House has its own chef, and while you may leave a few kilos heavier, you will also be happier. The staff also tend to surprise guests with pre-dinner drinks under a setting sun, a lone rhino in the distance; and lavish breakfasts set up in a dry riverbed, trees and birds above, champagne and eggs just the way you like them.
It’s obvious that four- and five-star resorts are going to have delicious food and luxurious beds covered in delightful linen, packets of sweets and home-baked biscuits placed quite close to your mouth on the pillow, and towels twisted into rabbit and tortoise shapes to welcome you after a game drive.
It’s the unpredictable things that impress me. The seven silent wild dogs at dawn; shaggy tailed and glorious as they take their morning drink, and then disappear as quietly into the bush, leaving one lone observer in ecstasy.
Scop was a guest of Tintswalo Safari Lodge and Fivestar PR