text edited by:
Jacqui Jacques
When we decided to go to the South African Republic, we withdrew our daughter from school. We felt it was important for her to see that there is a different world outside the one she knew. It would also be a great opportunity for her to practice English. However, with her charisma and personality, she had the South Africans learning her language instead! She went along with that for quite some time. It wasn't until she met a young girl from Switzerland who she started to speak English with. We have created so many amazing stories, traveling and meeting people in Africa. One experience even came close to leaving no one left to tell these stories.
The highlight of our stay in Africa was about to begin. We had rented a car and gathered a few tips on where to go and stay in Botswana. A big white spot on the map, waiting for us to discover it. We picked up hitchhikers along the way, learning about their country and traditions. They were alway willing to tell us about their locals-only, secret places that cannot be found in any books or magazines. This is how we learned about a little campsite somewhere between Nata and Kasane. It is in a two hundred kilometer stretch between these two cities, with only one little town and a gas station in the center. It is a place the lions like to visit. There are free roaming cattle everywhere here, which are an easy catch for these powerful cats. The lions kill a large number of cows each year and, naturally, no lions were killed by the cows. So, the African government pays the townspeople for their losses. Botswana; wide, open country, very few people and heavily populated by wild animals. Paradise.
The Sun had almost disappeared beyond the horizon by the time we arrived at the campsite. Pitching a tent and leaving the vehicle was out of the question. Lions and hyenas were all around. It gets dark very early and quickly in this part of the world, so we laid back talking. Although the sky above us was clear and full of stars, we could see a major thunderstorm in the distance. It was a magnificent night. There were sights and trumpet sounds of elephants in the distance. For fifteen years, I have been photographing wild animals on three different continents, and I've learned one simple rule. If the animal approaches You, that means it feels confident, safe and will cause no harm. Well, elephants down there play by different rules.
The time we spent with South African elephants was life changing. We learned from rangers about their behaviors. We had also learned a lot by talking to native people who have grown up around these magnificent, wise, and gigantic creatures. We loved them, and thought that they felt the same way about us. Our daughter grew up trusting and loving animals. She is so confident, that she was able to tame a partially wild horse when she was nine years old.
That night, we could hear the elephants trumpeting all around us but we staid calm, excited but calm. They were approaching us. We could hear them talking on the left, on the right and in front of us. It was like being in a Jurassic Park movie, only it was for real. The trumpets go on and on for so long that we settle into it and fall asleep. Not for long. When I opened my eyes, the moonlight is strong, allowing me to see about twenty five meters into the dark night. There he was, the giant of all giants. He strolled quietly within a few meters of the car, followed by another one, and then another one. They were emerging from the dark into my small circle of visibility, like dolphins from the deep ocean. Last came the baby; a tiny little elephant possibly a newborn. I watched from behind the steering wheel as it passed by. Klaudie was sleeping next to me. Liba was also awake, watching this incredible night parade from the comfort of the rear seat. The same moment the baby passed us by, there appeared two elephants, standing within touching distance of the vehicle's hood. I could not move a muscle, as I knew they would immediately charge us. One second later, We felt something lift the vehicle from behind. With gentle but strong force, it pushed the car straight forward. I knew that this was not good, but I was still hoping that it was just a short warning. When the elephant lifted and pushed the vehicle for second time, it changed direction at about ninety degrees; continuing again with the same force. How many times I had lifted an ant on a small piece of wood, and I know what it feels like! We were heading straight for the bushes, toward the deep sand and a point of no return. As I prayed, I tried to find the key and start the car. When the elephant pushed for the third time, the rear windshield broke into a billion tiny pieces. Now there was nothing between the animal and us. The only positive thing we had going for us was that the elephant pushed us away from the direction of the bush. I started the engine, the lights turned on and everything stopped. The baby was faraway now, and it seemed like his family had decided to leave. It was still hard to believe what was happening. The engine was running, the lights were on, but the front wheels were buried in the sand and unable to move. No rear windshield and a bunch of stressed out elephants running around to top it off. It felt very unsafe to remain in the car. We did what felt like wasn't necessarily the best thing to do, but it felt right at the moment. We decided to leave the car and climb a nearby tall tree. Klaudie was still sleeping, so we gave her a few seconds to wake and then went out to the tree. There is no need to describe how we got on the top of a fifteen-meter-tall tree, but let's just say that we humans are able to do incredible things while running high on adrenaline. We all sat securely in the fork of a huge branch. It felt much better than siting helplessly inside the car. The elephants were still near by. Running, roaring, and destroying the bush around us. At one point, we could see the whole herd stampeding across the dirt road and disappearing into the dark. About thirty five to forty wild giants. So there we were, sitting in the tree tops in the middle of nowhere. It was deep in the night and our car is smashed and half-buried. We couldn't go anywhere even if we tried. We had no way to make a phone call and the closest main road is dangerously far. There seemed only one solution; to climb down and dig out the car with my bare hands. I did not even looked once to see if there was an elephant around while rescuing the car. I was focused on our survival. In my head, I pretended that what I was doing was a normal, everyday task. It worked, and soon enough we had the car safely out and on the dirt road. Finally, we had to climb up the tree again and bring Klaudie to the car which was not an easy task. It was much easier going up with our adrenaline pumping. After we retrieved her, we drove into the night.
We had about two and half hours of driving ahead of us. We did not talk much, if at all, on the ride. There were thousands of questions swirling in my head. Only practical questions, for whatever reason. I had no need to question why this had happened to us. I was satisfied knowing that we were alright. We were expecting a friend from Scotland to join us in a few days and I worried that he would not have a place for luggage in our open air trunk. We had to go the police station and get the paperwork for insurance. We had to exchange the car for a new one. But first and most importantly, we had to get to the Nata and find a place to sleep.
