17th September arrive back from Pemba with Angela Italian visitor who only speaks Portuguese and no English. This trip from Nanduli includes: Unkaheli (witch doctor), Angela, Old Carpenter and assistant, the three injured cheeky lads who are now fine (they fell off a truck carrying too much firewood) - Ali is collected on the way, two sacs of rice, 8kg potatoes, X gallons of diesel, many papaya, peppers, bread, manuka, tomatoes (squashed by Angela’s rucksack) etc, PLUS and a very large bush pig in half and half smoked, a grey mongoose – two poachers and two dogs were spotted en route and their wares recovered but not them.
On arrival Antonio tells of more elephants visiting the house, a large female and two younger one is very small. Iprahemo eats pork (as do Machonda’s who apparently even eat Mongoose) so he is asked to cut it up and smoke it...and can eat a bit. Who will eat the rest is yet to be agreed.
Angela as usual has been persuaded to do a morning walk, 5 am leave – a little more civilised that D’s preferred rise of 4.30am in the dark. I firmly sleep through the cockerels cacophony of disturbance where all three rebound off each other in a way that makes you want to string them up. Suddenly D comes in quick quick there are Ellies up here and a baby. I fling on a rug and two capulanas and am very awake. We sit on the steps at the top of the French garden and I try to train D’s very grubby binoculars...I see a large tail flicking and a very small truck waving. Apparently D heard the crashes and then sat to see them all wander over the path at the end of the path with lemon trees and he got a clear view of the baby no more than 3 months old and the youngest he has ever seen. How utterly thrilling – I wish I had seen its little ears and flopping but eager movement. They are lurking in the bushes for a while and then a trumpet and off. A sure sign that they feel secure here, to bring a baby so close to human occupation what a great great success.
Then the day takes another twist, I fancy a celebratory coffee and pastry and am still dripping about in many layers of cloth. D starts shouting Spooks Spooks, Ipahema and the Mill boy have taken the pig and Mongoose and run away. Oh my word, what an immense failure. I think I will stay behind and then feel out of the fray so pull on clothes (a rather effective nice outfit for such a mission) am allowed to grab my coffee and Antonio has beautifully prepared it on a tray, I of course grab a pastry never one to miss a rounded treat. Off we go with a smattering of rangers (the others are with Angela on a walk) tracking skills are employed and we realise they are on two bicycles and not heading to Nandulit but Nankuta as there are Macondas there. D announced suddenly that he is going to do a manoeuvre, I am holding coffee not sure what this will entail and we are thrown into reverse into a hole, a deep ditch and my coffee sprays everywhere and his cup tips neatly over my feet – I am drenched in a sticky mess now not such a treat. Oh god I am furious, somehow the pleasure being snatched so abruptly smacks my mood into a swirl of fury and despair. It is hard to express how much joy is attached to a peaceful moment (a dry pastry and a weak coffee) here. Oh well the elephant joy is not far from my memory so I try to ignore the damp feeling and repurpose my fury into getting D to wash my nice outfit to remove the stains – which didn’t happen but I managed to wash them in OK spirits thinking...you can’t expect a coffee moment to sit happily with a speedy drive to retrieve stolen illegal meat on a homemade bush road! Such are the lessons of life here.
It is then decided that the rangers will set off to try to intercept them cross-country. A group leaves with the new Motorola radio and message comes in about an hour later, the pig and reprobates have been found. We set off and find them sitting under a tree with Iprahemo looking utterly deflated and simmering with disappointment that his plan was intercepted. He always looks as though he should be in a Quentin Tarentino film, hunched, sultry and wearing some strange fashion item out of context, this time it is a woolly skull cap and his new reflective aviator shades (plastic). He earned the title of King of Rock when him and Trisa did a shuffling shaking scooting double act at the students final party. And today he has not quite been crowned ‘King of Pork’. I feel sorry for him it was rather a rash plan but thoroughly prepared - the pig is strapped to a stake and now stinking more than imaginable. (Apparently this puts no one off and D tries to convince me it even makes it more digestible... )
End of highlights for a day. Though there is much more to say about this enormous side of reeking pork that came with us on a two day journey to the new Unity Bridge on the Tanzanian border...
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