Entries Tagged 'Africa' ↓

I like to think that my years in Swaziland prepared me to truly love and embrace all varieties of wildlife. Its a good thing too because Africa and my little part of Florida are in serious competition when it comes to frequent animal encounters. Friends joke I should charge admission to my porch to see the many wonders that crawl, scurry, graze, amble and jump through my backyard. While some other Florida folks might not consider this a bonus to my property, I do. I consider it a wonderful blessing honestly. I love wildlife and here it is, literally at my backdoor.

However (as I have previously posted), while I love these animals, I struggle with how two naturally curious and blissfully ignorant under five year old boys and these beasts can safely co-exist. I always worry a bit. While my boys play soccer out back, I stand guard at the trees and water with one eye out. But again, just like they did in Africa, these animals would rather avoid us loud, smelly, annoying humans; I know they aren’t all lined up in the woods ready to pounce on us at any moment. So I watch out but usually just enjoy our personal, live and up close, “discovery channel”.

No matter what we see, my goal is to teach my children a true love, understanding and respect for all beasties that travel through our neighborhood. Granted, my son will hardly even look up from his coloring book if I mention there an animal in the yard. So what. There is always something out and about. Both of my boys find having a turn with the binoculars much more thrilling than actually looking at the softshell turtle the size of my car tire crawling by. But I still get that thrill. And I thought I would share some pictures of what I have seen with you. This is only a sampling. And I may come back and add more.

Just a deer but one of many… 

An aligator sunning himself on the far bank. Its safe to assume there is an aligator in most ponds or lakes in Florida. I have only seen an aligator walk through my yard once, but once is certainly enough.

Sandhill Cranes – very common in Florida but they are fearless and seem to have real interest in getting into my garage.

A Water Moccossin snake, also known as a Cottonmouth. Out of 100 species, this is one of the 4 poisonous (however less common) snakes in Florida. They are potentially deadly. This was taken in my front yard as I was coming back from an afternoon walk. I quickly wheeled my children into the garage and locked them in the house while I took this picture.

One evening I went out my front door to find a spiderweb suspended from a tree and spread across my front yard. And there in the middle, seemingly floating, was this huge spider. I never found out what type it was. There was no trace of it the next morning except for one last bit of web still intact on a branch of the tree.

Probably one of the most amazing sightings I’ve seen. This mother and young bobcat were first playing in my backyard in the sun. Very relaxed with each other but wary. They did see a person in the distance out front and disappeared into the bushes for about 20 minutes. Once the coast was clear, they came back out, walked past my house and across the street and disappeared over a fence. Amazing.

The first bobcat seen in my backyard. I honestly thought it was just a large stray cat but no. It saw me, marked its terrotory, and stalked off.

Before you have got me all summed up and figured out, it seems about time I share with you the fact that I am having an identity crisis. Its one I’ve been having for awhile – 20 years in fact. Now be warned. This will not be the first time you’ll hear about an identity crisis of mine. Like many women my age, we are always checking and rechecking our titles (mom, wife, employee, what have you) trying to determine which door the real “me” is behind. But I have this very extraordinary point of reference, and it seems only fair to go back in time and revisit it. My most transformative identity crisis surfaced during that lovely time of all our developing lives: high school.

Now most of you are probably cuing up “The Breakfast Club” soundtrack as you think back to those days. That could work, but I might also play the “South African National Anthem”. Between the ages 14 and 19, I lived in Swaziland. You’re probably nodding like you’ve heard of it. In case you’re honest and admit you haven’t, it is a very small kingdom located between South Africa and Mozambique. My father worked for the State Department and plonked my family there in 1987.

I really don’t want to have to go on about how “no, we did not ride elephants to school” so please don’t expect that sort of explanation right now. It was not like that at all. Mbabane was a very peaceful town with everything any rural American town would have: a pizza place, a grocery store, a small mall, a movie theater, a bank and even a KFC. My brother and I attended Waterford Kamhlaba (WK), an international school with a British based curriculum. It was an excellent school, its academics were rigorous and the student body was as diverse as one could possibly imagine. And it was there my identity was sent into a tailspin, yet to be corrected.

I arrived at WK 14 years old and a bit chippy, thinking I knew how the world turned. I did not. And I came to find out fast that being American was not going to act as an advantage either. In fact, the other students had some serious issues with us “Damn Yankees”. Now don’t get me wrong, I had wonderful friends and some amazing experiences. But there was no doubt that the wrongs of the world were often the American’s fault, and even the teachers agreed. So, I tended to back down from my American identity. I tried hard not to have too much “twang” in my accent and did all that I could to do, as most kids in high school do, to try and not be too noticeable. But being blond, advantaged, female and American meant I got a slew of dumb blond, dumb female and dumb American jokes hurled (usual with harmless intent) my way. And the final nail in the coffin was that I talked a lot (shocking, I know).  With an incessant bull’s-eye taped to my back, I could not avoid the fact that I was American to save my life. But what a great lesson to learn about being a minority, huh? Touché, privileged white woman, suck it up.

But there was an interesting flip side to all of this. After a couple years in Swaziland, I was hardly very American either. During my visits home, my clothes were weird, my music taste was weird and I had an accent. (I did?) What… was I trying to act like I was better than my American friends now? And DO you ride an elephant to school? Talk about a blond out of water, I wanted to get back “home” to WK as fast as I could.

After I left Swaziland to go to college, I needed to find a new home where being a talkative American was hardly something unique. But I also knew I would crave that diverse, intelligent community I came from. I found what I was looking for in every way at Mount Holyoke College. But those years in Swaziland, at a school with such an extraordinary political and cultural affect on its student body, have left me with a responsibility to remain true to the person I became there. I think back and wish I had grown up, further explored other cultural identities (rather than hide my own) and appreciated everything more than I did. And, today, I am extremely frustrated that I rarely live or discuss those lessons I learned long ago in my current life on a daily basis. Let me explain further.

After arriving in the U.S., I eventually assimilated right back in very well. So well, in fact, my “African-ness” was completely invisible. I mean, who are we kidding – no one would spot me walking down the street in Washington D.C. and think to say “Sawubona” (“How are you”, in siSwati). And being so “American” just got too easy. I didn’t tell the stories and lessons I had learned there to people here often enough. In fact, I was leery about sharing too much for fear it came across as pretentious. Again, I just wanted to be like everyone else. Ugh, what was wrong with me?

And now, it has been 12 years since I was back “home” in Africa. Apart from my cherished collection of WK friends that I have found again online, I have so little connection to that world before. I honestly feel as if I don’t have the right to claim those 5 crucial years of my life. But am I 100% through and through the American I look like? I don’t think so. I won’t forget what I learned. My classmates were NOT handed the kinds of rights or advantages I had as an American. My classmates lived in a perpetually violent world back in their homes. My classmates have now probably lost endless friends and family to the AIDS epidemic. My classmates know first hand what corruption does and what anger breeds. My classmates, I never comprehended half of it the way I should have, but I was by your side.

Anyway, so there lies one portion of my perpetual identity crisis. I guess, I am what I am (no Popeye jokes, please…). I can’t entirely blame myself for wanting to hang out and just watch movies with friends, and act my age in high school – rather than always discuss politics and human rights. We were all just kids, dressing badly, flirting awkwardly, and ungracefully coming into our own. And back here in the U.S., I suppose I can’t expect to find many people that would really get the significance of June 16^th (the anniversary of the Soweto uprisings). So I need to make peace with that. But every once in awhile I find myself asking “who the hell am I?” when a friend balks if I refer to Swaziland. “You lived in Africa? What was THAT like?” and all I can think is “please don’t ask about riding elephants to school.”

Of all that may be supernatural, UFOs rattle my cage the most. And, as it turns out, there may have been one seen in my home town a few weeks ago. My husband told me about the sighting this past Friday night. It was ‘Earth Hour” and, as responsible environmental citizens, my husband and I spent the time sitting out on our porch, with candles, some wine, grilling our dinner and checking out the stars. We had been thinking back about seeing a space shuttle night launch from our porch, when he mentioned that his players had seen a video posted on YouTube of a UFO witnessed here in our home town.  

WHAT!!!  

That was all it took. I raced off to the computer (it was actually past earth hour by this point so felt justified to use electricity… but I still kept the lights off) and immediately pulled up YouTube. And there it was. Someone commented that it might be a hot air balloon, a sight that is very common in our area. But my mind raced: Why fly at night? And why can’t we see the balloon’s flame at its center? Another post claims it is a new sort of plane being tested at a nearby Air Force base. But finally, a post agrees that it is a U.F.O. and one was in fact seen in Brazil at the exact same time. Oh terrific. 

Deep in thought, I padded back out to our dark porch and took a healthy gulp of my wine. You must understand that ghosts, psychic phenomenon, and most paranormal occurrences don’t really frighten me. (I actually 100% believe in their existence and embrace all bumps in the night – but I will save my thoughts on that for another post.) U.F.O.s, on the other hand, just give me a legitimate case of the heebie jeebies. 

Here’s the thing about U.F.O.s. Their possibility represents the overwhelming prospect of the “unknown” in its truest form. The scientist in me gets right to the facts. If this universe is really so enormous and infinite, even a novice statistician (that would be me) can work out that it is very unlikely we are the only living beings in existence.  My husband argued that while there may be life, it may also be in a much simpler form. Who says? That may be true in some cases but we can not assume we are the most advanced beings out there. Now the philosophical and spiritual guru in me steps forward (am attaching the white beard, and throwing on ancient looking robes)… Who are we to say what, who, or where we are in the universal context of things? The only living beings? The most advanced? Unlikely. Your faith tells you God made us in his image. Well, then, he/she is quite brilliant, correct? Who’s to say there aren’t a whole slew of his/her images all over this universe? Now stay with me here, have you ever seen the movie Men in Black? One scene depicts an entire community of aliens living in a forgotten locker in Penn Station – that was their reality, their universe, and they had no concept of what lay outside of that locker. I am humble enough to accept that we know very little about who we are in the grand scheme of this universe. We are, in fact, living in that locker arrogantly rationalizing our feeble ideas of science to each other, while extraterrestrial commuters race by and the Amtrak of the cosmos has stopped at track 9, possibly right outside our door!!! 

Deep breaths. 

I must keep in mind that Hollywood has done a terrific job of scaring the bejesus out of me. Have you seen Independence Day? While I do feel it is ripe with that well known bit of American “we’ll blow the brains out anything unfamiliar if it dares step on our soil” agenda, (note: that movie was filmed before 9/11, interesting food for thought), the image of those space ships darkening the morning sky is unsettling to say the least. The movie War of the Worlds was horrendous to watch, and also a story that goes back for quite a few decades now. The list goes on: Aliens (I, II, III), Fire in the Sky, Mars Attacks!, Taken… at least E.T. and Men in Black involve some nice aliens.  Close Encounters of the Third Kind is an excellent U.F.O. movie but also does quite a bit of alien fear mongering until we get to its conclusion (which is secretly my hope for how such an alien/human meeting would occur… and there would be peace throughout our cosmos). 

Back to the point. I have forgotten to mention that I have also seen a U.F.O. for myself. I know I know, I should turn the lights back on and stop watching all those movies. Before I do, I will just tell you what I saw and leave it at that. 

I was living at a boarding school in Swaziland at the time – the school was located up on a hill and had a terrific view of country’s capital Mbabane, nestled in a small valley to our south. A friend and I were walking across the soccer field at night on our way to an art class. At the time, Swaziland had no evening air traffic. The one airport only landed its one jet once a week during the day – thanks to its less than advanced air traffic controlling capabilities. So when we saw something with a light far in the distance descending in the sky, it took us by surprise. We watched it for awhile, trying to explain what it might be. Suddenly it changed direction at a sharp 90 degree angle and seemed to be heading in the opposite direction, parallel to the ground. And finally, it made another extreme turn up into the sky and sped away very quickly. This may have happened over a period of two minutes or less. We convinced ourselves there must be some explanation but I don’t think we ever came up with one and I don’t think we ever brought it up again really. I still can’t figure out what could move like that in the night’s sky in Africa.  

So here is my final thought on this. I will work hard not to be convinced of impending space invasion, or fall for all the alien abduction hype. But I will not let myself be fooled that science can explain everything in our skies. Now turn your own lights off (for the sake of a postponed “Earth Hour”) and watch what was filmed in my own night’s sky only a few weeks ago.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C6QXhfC_od4&hl=en]