I used to think that I was ok with animals, wildlife in general, and especially the flying variety. I’ve got a dog who thinks that the only place she can puke and/or poop and/or pee in the house is on my bed. I’ve been to Maine where I’ve put my hands on live fish as they flop around, only to get stabbed by the evil spines in its back (I’m still waiting for the evil to take me over…but so far the Spot is fighting the effects – only one force is allowed to take me over and the Spot was here first). Even bugs don’t faze me – after prom there was this thing at school where we got to eat bugs – I ate a few of them (my friend here Ruthzee still doesn’t let me forget that). And the other night, I woke up in the middle of the night because something was crawling around my mouth. I brushed it off and it landed on my chest. It then JUMPED back on my face so I swatted it away. I got my shoe and smacked it. That morning, I picked up my shoe to find a cockroach about two inches long still twitching underneath it. My reaction on discovering that a cockroach had most likely crawled IN my mouth while I was sleeping? “C’est ca l’afrique.”
The point being: I used to think I was pretty comfortable with all fiefdoms (or however they divvy up kingdoms these days) in the Animal Kingdom. Then we went to the bird reserve near
So we’re on a boat, taking pictures of wild boars drinking from the river, applying sunblock so as not to get roasted by the African sun, and watching pelicans and other birds as they lazily float by. Our only concerns are the crocodiles that might decide to eat our feet if we dangle them in the water, so we don’t dangle them in the water, and the water’s too high for the crocodiles anyways. It’s very idyllic and peaceful. It’s a real vacation from the hustle-bustle of the city. We’re enjoying each other’s company and enjoying life.
We round a bend in the river, and the stench hits us first. Then a gap in the trees reveals about 3,000 pelicans chilling out on rocks in the river. Our guide tells us that these are the
pelican nesting grounds, and lucky ducks that we are (though curiously there were no ducks in this river…weird huh?), we’ve arrived right smack in the middle of nesting season.
I never realized how untrustworthy 3,000 pelicans look when they’re just sitting on a few rocks sticking out of the water, just looking for something to do.
Our guide though, wants to take us in for a closer look. Uh oh, I’m thinking, I’ve seen The Birds, I know what a flock of 3,000 birds can do if they set their minds to it. And I don’t trust these pelicans. I mean, are they used to a boat full of toubabs coming within 100 feet of their nesting grounds? Are pelicans like mama bears and kill anything that threatens their young? Where are all the goats? Whose gonna protect us if the pelicans attack? I don’t wanna take any chances on pissing off 3,000 pelicans, especially if there are no goats around. My mind flashes to that scene in The Birds with all those crows just chilling out on the playground equipment at the school. Not cool.
Unfortunately, I’m not driving, and our guide seems to think it would be a good idea so we go through a gap in the trees. Oh dear.
If you thought 3,000 pelicans were untrustworthy, then try 21,000. Yeah, that’s right, twenty-one thousand pelicans, sitting on three long rocks, just waiting for someone to mess with them. I don’t think we have that many soldiers in
My mind flashes from the playground to the last scene in The Birds, you know, when they walk out of the house and the landscape is covered in crows: crows on their front yard, crows in the road, crows on the power lines, crows on their roof. My mind is a SportsCenter highlight reel of aerial attacks on humans: the scene where the seagulls attack the dude and that lady in the boat. And then the scene where the sparrows pour down the chimney into their house. And that montage from
And here I am sitting in a boat, staring at 21,000 pelicans and their babypelicans, hoping that they can’t read my mind and get ideas from the highlight reel in my head, praying that they don’t get spooked by the motor (which the driver has now thankfully cut off), begging the kids in the boat not to throw anything at the pelicans, hoping an army of evil goats is on its way up from Dakar to protect us should the eviler pelicans attack (can goats even swim?). I’d even take the less evil daytime-only goats of
Just someone, please send some goats?
Love,
Jake
1 comment:
"Oh Dear." What a great phrase! It is certainly underused these days. But you have employed it masterfully here. I got a great chuckle reading it. Keep up the great work, Jake.
Uncle Mike
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