Just a bunch of reckless baboons!

Today I had to spend the day alone in camp. ABSOLUTELY alone, no camp hand, just me. There is only Graham, myself and a camp hand in camp at the moment. Brad is off filming crocs. Graham had to go to Maun for a supply run and to pick up Pricka, and bring Legae home. Camp can not be left alone so that left me to “man” the fort.

No worries, I will simply leave the electric fence on all day and not dare venture beyond it and if I have to use the long drop I will drive there. No biggie I have this all covered. Really there is little to worry about.

Except maybe baboons and monkeys. Which, you would think would be fine, just yell and chase them away. Right? Harmless little fellows.

So there I was enjoying for the first time since March 1st, in absolute solitude. Completely alone in the african wilderness, listening to the wind and the birds...... AND THE BABOONS! I looked up and there was a big old boy sitting in the drivers seat of the vehicle. Hands on steering wheel, I kid you not. I didn’t think to grab a camera, my reaction was to chase him and the rest of his troop away before they get into all the tents and the kitchen. (in hindsight would have been a cool picture)

And so I grabbed the closet thing to me, a glass bottle, and I ran after them (you can paint this picture for yourself) yelling “go away you pests and every other name in the book, and throwing everything I could find on the ground along the way. To which they responded with the most sarcastic, superior look on their faces. A nod at me and they slowly made their way on by, unscathed by my verbal abuse.

HRMPH!

You see baboons and monkeys are sexist. I kid you not. They are full on sexist animals!!! They will not listen to women, women do not scare them.

Eventually they went on their way, in no rush from me I might add, and I returned to my day. Not an hour later in came another troop of baboons marching in. I think the first troop went on to tell the rest of the baboons in Moremi that there was indeed a women alone in camp and they should hightail it over there for a good laugh.

Being the feminist that I am, I have little patience for this unruly behavior and stand determined to stand up for my rights as a women. So I say bring it on Bitc@£!’s!!!!!!! And they did, oh they brought it on, they danced around me, climbed up into the shower and jumped down in front of me, all the while me banging a hatchet against a pan to make noise, running towards them growling. Yes growling, was hoping this deep (more manly) sound would show them who is boss. At which point I managed to step in baboon shit. And you thought I was on a mission before..... now, now I am really angry. I look up and I imagine my father is probably laughing his deep belly laugh right now, I am certain he is getting great amusement out of all of this. In fact this is the sort of thing that he would just love to see and sit back and laugh at. Baboon shit on my foot, making for a rather slippery step I continue on with my yelling and growling, still rendering useless. With my throat sore and hoarse from yelling, I surrender these attempts to be futile.

Once again they sauntered on their way, and I promise you one was sticking his tongue out at me while his brother laughed out loud holding his stomach and pointing at me. Me with baboon shit on foot, sweaty from running, hair a mess and stuck to my face, pot and hatchet in hand, head bowed in defeat.

Seriously frustrated, though painfully humored by my own behavior and the crime scene of skewed bits all around camp I still sit here and swear I will aim to bridge the gap between the wild world of the baboon and the civilized world of women, their human cousins.

Until next time my furry nose picking, own feces eating, sexist little buggers; until next time..........