Tales from the Hide 1: How To Test Your Relationship

"I could do this all day," I sighed to myself, gazing at a giraffe stooping at a waterhole as three warthogs pottered around nearby.  And then I remembered - I would be.  Three days, in fact, and three nights.  Henry and I had signed up to the annual 72 hour animal census. 

Our home for the entire period was a mud and straw shack, six foot long and eight foot wide.  Given the number of bruises already on my head, I calculated the height at 5 foot 7.  Our bed was a mat on the dirt floor (to be used in turns during night shifts); the lock on the door two pieces of bush-wire (only to be used for the briefest of toilet, or wash-from-a-two-litre-bottle, breaks.)  Meals would be brought to us three times a day.   There was no electricity, no stove, no shelves.  Instead, two chairs, a newly-sharpened pencil, an eraser and 18 pieces of paper, each one the log for a different animal, with three separate columns to mark male, female and young. 

What did I learn?   I now know well that male kudus have horns, females do not.  Guinea fowl prefer to drink at dawn and dusk.  A gentle giraffe can look startlingly intimidating when it's sensing something's not quite right, and will stare intently for a full 30 minutes at the hide you're hiding in.  Male baboons take their ladies from behind.  And if you want to test your relationship, 72 hours alone in a bush-prison-cell will do the job nicely.  True,  there were one or two extended silences between Henry and me that weren't down to us keeping quiet for the animals.  But we emerged dazed, happy and enlightened, in equal measure -- and not only thanks to the red wine box that had helped  us through the 7pm-9pm shift. 

JY