African Skies: The 'Elies' at Buffelsdrift

There are some things I learned about the elephants that I don't want to forget.

I was told they were 'babies' so I wasn't prepared for how huge they were that first dark morning I went to meet them and Joseph, the senior elephant handler who would be instructing me. The others handlers names were Angelo, Foster, Morgan and Owen.

Firstly, I want to remember their names -- Bulelo, Malaika and Jabari -- and that their mothers were killed by farmers because the elephants were destroying their crops. All three of them are nine years old and they came to Buffelsdrift at about the age of three. They loved the water and when their handlers called them out they pretended not to hear. When the handlers raised their voices, they came out reluctantly. And when the handlers turned their backs, they rushed back into the water again, "just like naughty children at the seaside!" the manager at lodge said when he told me this story.

Secondly, that they have personalities and traits that help make them distinguishable from one another. For example, when they are taken on walks, they are always led in the same order: Jabari, the youngest/smallest first because he's the mischievous one. Then Malaika, the female, to separate the males. And lastly Bulelo, the largest.

I noticed on a walk that Bulelo was resting his trunk on Malaika in front of him. The handler explained with a laugh, "Oh, he's doesn't like to carry his trunk, that one, because he thinks it's too heavy. He's so lazy!"

Malaika is the patient and quiet one. And then they would add, "But she is stubborn!" And the way they said it was like this: "Stub.BORN!"

Elephants are matriarchal so Malaika is the leader. "Nobody has to teach her how to lead!" Once when the two males were tussling with each other (something they always seemed to be doing; even from a distance you could hear their tusks knocking) the handlers called, "C'mon, Malaika, sort them out. Sort them out!" So she ambled over to Jabari and Bulelo and put her trunk between them to separate them. They backed off and she returned to munching the trees, quietly minding her own business.

Malaika could be identified from the back by a slight discoloration next to her tail. But more obvious was her tendency to stand with one rear foot resting on the other. "Just like a lady!" Joseph said.

My first morning on duty I helped muck out their stalls -- great huge sheds with cement floors that are covered afresh each morning with fragrant sawdust after the piles of dung have been carted out and the floors hosed down. In the evening each elephant has a big branch (more like a small tree!) laid on its bed -- a special snack to hold it to morning.

The second morning I watched as they were put through their morning exercises. Joseph encouraged me to come and witness it so that I could see how challenging it is to handle the 'oliphants'. But first he examined them for any new cuts or sores that needed spraying with purple antiseptic. When he saw me standing at some distance he asked me, "Why are you standing over there?!" I swallowed and said, "Because I'm scared." Then he scolded me. "Come over here. No one can EVER run away from an elephant! Stand close!" And he handed me the antiseptic bottle. I said, "What should I do with this?" He said, "Go spray Bulelo. Foster will show you where." So I walked up to Bulelo and Foster lifted his ear to show me the new cut. I sprayed a tentative amount and Foster said, "Come near! Spray more." So I did. I sprayed harder, closer. Then Bulelo reached back with his trunk and blew on the cut which now had a big smear of purple medicine on it.

Next the elephants followed a routine of commands that was pretty amazing. (Supposedly they know 45 commands.) "Lift your left hind foot. Lift your right front foot. Shake your head. Turn to your right. Turn to your left. Pick up the baton. Pass the baton to Jabari. Now pass the baton to Malaika. Kneel down. Give the baton to your handler. Walk in a circle. Give a salute. Turn around." When they were done the sun was up and they were eager to start their grazing. About an hour later they returned to the sawdust pit to eat their prepared breakfast: a large black bin each of fresh fruit and vegetables mixed with sorghum, a grain mixture, special food pellets and lots of water. As soon as they got to the place where their feeding bins were Bulelo immediately went toward Malaika's bin and stuck his trunk in. They shooed him on to his own, then explained to me, "He always wants to get something from Malaika's first. He's so greedy!" Another handler said, "When there is food, these elephants are NOT FRIENDS!"

I confessed to one of the safari guides later about how I was scared of the elephants and wished I weren't, she said, "You shouldn't feel badly. They are wild animals after all! It's best to respect them." She went on to tell me a story. "Once when I was getting ready to ride my motorbike, Malaika came up close and stood right in front of me. She looked threatening and I knew she could toss me and my bike right up in the air if she wanted to. So I shouted at her, 'F--- OFF, Malaika!' Thankfully she backed off. I was scared, I tell you!" Then she laughed. "When I wrote to my sister about the experience, she answered, 'Now you can say the elephants know 46 commands!' "

I wish I'd been there a little longer so that I could have been brave enough to lead them home from where they were grazing, like Joseph asked me to on Friday when he handed me his baton, and said, "Call them for lunch! C'mon, it's your last day!" I demurred and said, "They don't know me yet." After all, I'd just been told by Owen that elephants need to have respect for their handlers. "If they don't respect you, they will KICK YOU AWAY!"

I did have the experience of going on a ride one afternoon and I can't say I enjoyed it. They are so huge that, as one guest said to me, "It's like riding a house!" I was sitting with my legs splayed behind Foster and right on Malaika's spine. In fact I could feel her spine moving under my own tail bone. After the 45 minute ride and when we were back at the platform to disembark, I wondered how I was going to get off because my legs were absolutely stiff and unresponsive to my brain telling them to "Move!" To my embarrassment I had to be 'hauled' off by the handlers and I could hardly stand -- let alone walk! -- for several minutes. My legs tingled, ached and felt like spaghetti all at the same time. Joseph laughed. "You have to walk like John Wayne now!"