The day I learned the word "punda".

This story happened a long time ago so some of you may have heard it via skype or emails, but it’s a good one nonetheless. 

One day the boys and I were taking a walk along the spring when we saw a strange grey lump in the distance.  Intrigued, we ran ahead to discover a dead donkey, a punda, completely bloated, pregnant, that had been apparently dragged out of the water and left by one of the cattlemen. 

Quickly Nani came out and the four of us cautiously poked around trying to guess how it died and what on earth to do with it.  We needed to dispose of it soon, largely because of the imminent smell of a rotting carcass, but also because a distraught French guest at the tented camp had seen it moments before and had called Nani in a huff about a “dead antelope” in the water. (Still not too sure how she mistook a donkey for an antelope, but anyhow…) It was quite unsightly, possibly diseased, and right in front of the camp, so we started thinking of where to take it.  But the greater question was how?  Unfortunately I had no prior experience in disposing of 300 pound animals, believe it or not. 

Eventually we were able to get a bunch of the men from the village come down to drag it away.  We tied a chain around its neck, climbed into the bed of the truck, and proceeded to pull it about a mile down the lake shore, conveniently placing it at the base of a beautiful acacia away from any houses or camp.  Why was it convenient, you ask?  Well, Nani and I had conspired to place it somewhere that we could easily set up the motion-sensor cameras.  Like excited little school children, we ran home to get the cameras, placed them before sunset, and tried to sleep through our excitement of what might be caught on film during the night.  We raced over in the morning, cautious that no scavengers were left lingering, and couldn’t believe what the cameras had captured; one in video, one in photos. 

In the middle of the night a curious, yet hesitant, spotted hyena came sniffing the donkey.  Within minutes there were three of them, obviously lured by the smell and the distinct call of their friends, and in no time they had started to feast as numerous onlookers fearfully stared in envy and desire.  They ravenously ate away in a frenzy, and at one point one of the hyenas even jumped at the camera (probably intrigued by the smell of human and the small infra-red light), but luckily this time it was unable to get away with it. 

With its innards spewed about, and having gotten a temporary fill, they eventually dragged it away to a more secluded location.  A few cautious striped hyenas and mongooses scavenged the remains, but weren’t as lucky as their larger competitors. 

It was so amazing to see; I felt like there was a National Geographic movie being filmed in my own backyard.  I’m absolutely enchanted by the wild freedom of the African bush.  I mean, where else could you get away with bating animals by dragging around a dead donkey?  Maybe Kentucky.