Will crocodile stories convince you I'm not dead?

I'm alive. Thought you should know, because I'm aware that at least two people were worried enough that they managed to contact Zimbabwe, which isn't easy. Then again, I did report myself as alone in Harare before disappearing for two and a half weeks, so I guess I can't be too surprised. But I'm not dead, just far away from the internet.

Even if we had internet at Bally Vaughan, the power cuts would severely limit my time online. Now, let me stress this- ZIMBABWE IS NOT NEARLY AS UNSTABLE AS THE MEDIA CLAIMS. Several years ago, it was legitimately bad, but the real trouble is over, and Zimbabwe is trying to get back to the strong economy they used to have. Unfortunately, terror sells, so instead of trying to encourage tourism back to the country, the media prefers to speak as though the trouble was still going on. That's the truth. Spread it around, please: Zimbabwe is a fluffy, cuddly bunny.

That said, it's currently a solid third world country, and out of its previous five power centers, only about one and a half are functioning today. The defecit of power is so severe that the company will simply shut down the power to various sectors, usually during the busiest parts of the day, to ensure maximum power save-age. Mind you, the president's house always has power. I never said the government wasn't corrupt. That's the way of governments, especially in Africa.

I'm learning the art of speed-bathing, cold water being the incentive. Also, point of interest, the water is frequently quite brown. And I mean "quite" in the British sense, where it secretly translates to "REALLY FREAKIN'".

My current home is Bally Vaughan Wildlife Sanctuary, where I share the grounds with lions, hyenas, a leopard, blue duikers, a klipspringer, servals, a civet, caracals, a jackal, crocodiles, parrots, zebras, baboons, monkeys, mongooses, marmosets, and owls. Now, Bally Vaughan never turns an animal refugee away, and as I mentioned, several years ago the proverbial shit was hitting the proverbial fan. White farmers fleeing the country dropped off many of their animals here, which means we also house cows, donkeys, a horse, sheep, pigs, goats, geese, ducks, chickens, rabbits, guinea pigs, and white rats. One fleeing family brought a zore! Yes, a genuine horse-zebra cross, sterile as a mule, whose temperment is so foul that she's called simply Zorse, and they're considering mounting Beware of Zorse signs for the public. See, all the equines are free-roaming, and Zorse has been known to charge for no apparent reason. A word to the wise: this behavior is apparently typical of zorses. It's the zebra heritage showing through.

Along that train of thought, we've also got an accidental zonkey (Muffin) and another on the way, courtesy of Fred. Fred is a gorgeous zebra stallion. Fred was found in a tiny paddock, up to his belly in filth, with no company besides an eldlery donkey. We suspect that Fred is unaware that he's a zebra at all. Thank whatever gods you pray too. Male zebra have been known to kill other equines by ripping their jaws off, they are that fierce and territorial. Our Zorse's father was a serial offender. Fred doesn't do that. We like Fred. Fred just wants to hang out with Crumb, the love of his life, a very homely donkey mare.

Moving away from our free-floating equine population. My morning usually starts several hours before it's supposed to, when the rescued roosters start crowing. So. Many. Roosters. Damn them. If ever there was a time to turn down an animal... They've also got a knack for knowing when your temper is fraying, which they see as an ideal opportunity to follow you around, testing the volume and timbre of their voices. The roosters get the dogs going in the morning, who in turn get the lions going, and occasionally the donkeys. It's an interesting wake-up.
If I ever express to you a desire to keep chickens, and if you are a true friend to me, you will refer me back to this passage.

Besides a pair of goats, we've had no new rescues since I arrived, but that doesn't mean there's been no excitement. I've witnessed 3 (count 'em!) crocodile captures, and one monkey netting.
Crocs: To begin with, Bally Vaughan is right on a river, full of plump fish. Recently, a crocodile moved into this river, approximately two and a half meters long, which killed my desire to go swimming, and made us very nervous about the donkeys and sheep going to drink, not to mention the dogs going to play. The wild animal control guy was summoned (he was a pompous ass, and a total disappointment from the desccription, but that's a story for another day). He "supervised" the setting of the trap in the river (a trap built by our staff and carried by our staff while he showed us pictures of animals he'd shot). But he also offered to remove two of the three crocs we were keeping, and to release them in a reserve. Our biggest croc (about 4 meters) is a registered "problem animal," meaning that he was attacking stock and people, so he can't be released- I tried to explain this to the two baby rabbits who recently escaped their cage and took up residence in his enclosure, but perhaps Shona is their first language.

Crocodile restraining is fairly straightforward. First, get something around it's neck and pull ittight against any barrier. Next, coming from behind, sit on it and clamp it's mouth shut. Crocodiles can close their jaws with amazing force (and a horrifying sound) but in opening them again, they're much weaker. One the mouth is held, tie it shut (tightly, please), then tie the wrists behind its back and the ankles behind its tail.

Fascinating to watch. Next time, I wonder if they'll let me help sit on it at least. Point of interest- crocodiles have enthralling green eyes.

As for the monkey, Tarzan is a one-armed vervet, who continuously escapes the enclousre with the other monkeys. This might be all right, except that he's a biting risk, and has been known to raid the volunteer house. Our best strategy is to feed him a jam-and-tranquilizer sandwich, then wait for him to get drowsy enough to net. We managed this beautifully the other day... but I believe he stayed inside about 24 hours. He remains at large.

We have had one death since I came- Paddington the serval was found dead one morning, and the vet says it was a snakebite. So we make a point of making a lot of noise in the tall grass.

I am the only volunteer just now. A lot of the work is familiar- cleaning, some feeding, and fixing anything I notice that needs it. When I first arrived, I worked with a New Zealand vet nurse, but she's been gone a week now, and I rely on Alice and Strauss, the cats, for company. Oh well. At least Alice catches rats. There's some sort of humane society in town that might drop off a litter of kittens for care as well.

I realized the other day that I've passed the One Month Left milestone. It's scary, because I don't know where I'm going next. I wrote a list of all the things I'll require from my next location, the topmost being monetary gain. So that limits me to the States, if I want to be legal.

Oh, it's worth mentioning- the marmosets (which are south american, and were brought over here to be pets) have an obsession with climbing inside my work shirts. Maybe it's because they're so loose? It was already all I could manage to get them all off me before I leave the cage, now they've muliplied the problem, by being inside my clothing. Jen took some pictures, and perhaps she'll post them.

Right. My online time is limited, and I don't know when I'll be back. Hopefully soon. Missing everyone.