Nawrockis in Namibia Part III: Animals in Etosha

I’ve seen a lot of Namibia, and having my family visit meant I could share my favorite places with them. But something I was looking forward to most was a stop at Etosha—the country’s largest game preserve. It was one place I’d never been and the thought of going somewhere new to all of us was pretty exciting. Etosha’s high cost and remote location keeps most Namibians (let alone volunteers) away. The park is only accessible by car and nearly impossible to free hike into.

Ever since I arrived in Namibia, my dad has been starting each of our weekly phone conversations with, “So, have you seen any wildlife lately?” The answer is usually no. The land in and around Khorixas is a wildlife wasteland because of intense heat and little vegetation (although, the other night, someone did throw an animal through my window at 4 a.m. Wild or otherwise, it was an unwelcomed sight!) But after two nights at Okaukuejo Rest Camp, the first lodge inside Etosha’s gate, they’d checked off elephants, lions, zebra, wildebeest, white rhino and giraffe from their “To See in Namibia” list.

We arrived at the luxury lodge around noon and ate lunch on the terrace before walking to the watering hole. Each of Etosha’s three lodges has its own watering hole to attract wildlife and game, but the one at Okaukuejo is by far the most active. Dozens of zebra and a handful of elephants were gathering round despite the midday sun. And while there wasn’t a lot of action (there’s some unwritten law of the jungle that everyone’s friends while drinking water), it was pretty incredible to see such beautiful animals up close.







Lots of tourists gathered around the viewing area to see what animals wandered in and out of the hole. It was strangely addictive. At night, before bed, we’d walk to the hole to see what animals (if any) were around (usually giraffe and rhino). And each morning, first thing, we’d check it out again. (At this time, though, it was usually empty.) Even when nothing was around, it was hard to look away. You never knew what you were about to miss.

Our first night in Etosha we went on an evening game drive. It wasn’t the best for pictures, but I’d heard from other volunteers that it was the only sure way to see animals in action. After the lazy life of the watering hole, it was exciting to see a pride of lions hunting a giraffe in the tall savannah grasses (something we certainly would have missed on our own or in the daylight). And there were nocturnal animals, like the bat-eared fox and spotted night owl, we would not have seen at any other time.



The ride ended around 10 o’clock, and fifteen minutes after entering our bungalow, the electricity went off. I waited for a moment, thinking a place like Okaukujeo must have a backup generator. But when a new power source failed to kick in, I walked outside to the lights of the walkway and realized it was only our place that was in the dark. It was after hours, so staff had gone home, and despite our flashlight, we couldn’t find the circuit breaker box. My parents debated calling the emergency contact numbers listed by our phone, but I thought, being in a national park with wild animals roaming free, their idea of an “emergency” would be slightly different. A guest being mauled by a lion? Emergency. No electricity in rooms 17 and 18? Not even close. (It reminded me too much of my life in Khorixas to be considered anything less than normal.)

So I walked to the front gate, where a guard named Dennis agreed to help me solve the problem. While walking back to our accommodation I learned he was the brother of my friend from the hospital. Proof once again that no matter where you are, in a country as sparsely populated as Namibia, you’ll always know someone.

The following day we went on a drive of our own. I assumed most animals sought the shade of tall trees during the heat of mid-day, but we left the park around two and found wildlife everywhere.


There were a dozen giraffes wandering near the side of the road


And in the road.


And at the watering hole.


There were oryx.


And springbok.


And kudu.


And birds.


And of course, more zebra.

We were even lucky enough to spot a male lion lounging by the side of the road. It was nearly impossible to see him, as his golden mane blended perfectly with the savannah grasses. But an insane tourist in a little white Volkswagen had stopped nearby—a signal there was something worth slowing down for. My dad took a 15 minute video of the lion sitting up, looking all impressive and royal (just as you would expect the king of the jungle to be). But it was only when the lion flopped down to take a rest that my dad decided it was time to snap my photo--which explains why my picture looks like this:



I promise you it’s a lion (you just have to look!). I also promise you that I would have stuck around to take another—better—photo, had it not been for the insane man in the white Volkswagen who actually got out of his car, picked up a rock and threw it at the lion. All in hopes he’d lift his head up again.

I wasn’t sticking around to find out if that’s all the lion did.