Safari Stories

 

The group of New Yorkers in Tambacounda , Mariam, Louise, Meghan and I, decided to venture to the Parc National Niokolo-Koba, Senegal’s major national park, which spans the distance of 9000 sq km. We departed from our residence at 6am in a pickup truck, driven by a chauffeur named Touba. The park itself was only about an hour from our residence, but driving into the interior of the park took another hour and a half. At the entrance in Dar Salam, we picked up a tour guide to navigate the safari route. The park is rumored to be home to lions, and my mind was fixated on seeing one for the first time.

The first hour and a half of our safari was blissful and enchanting. We saw different species of antelope, warthogs like Pumba in The Lion King, enormous baobab trees, exotic fruit, giant baboons, and many different species of birds. Where the hippos and crocodiles dwell, I spotted a “hiding hippo”, just his eyes and snout watching us. According to the guide, with regards to the remainder of the hippos and crocodiles, “Ils ont plongé”, they plunged [under the water]. Go figure.

 

Along the trail, the guide pointed out more antelope nearby and the driver came to a halt to take a look himself. After we were finished admiring, the driver accelerated, the wheels skidded a bit, and the truck did not budge. It had been raining the day before, and there were enormous puddles of water and quicksand like mud all along the trail. Unfortunately for us, the driver had decided to join in on animal watching in the middle of a giant mud puddle. And so began the next horrific 5 hours of our safari. At first it was rather comical, but smiles soon faded... 

We began searching the forest to gather large sticks and broken branches to place under, in front, and behind the wheels to gain traction. No go. The guide and the four of us attempted to push the car while the driver accelerated. Nothing. The driver then got into the mud, under the car, and began using his hands to dig out the front and rear axels which were also engulfed in mud.  We started to dig out the tires. We pushed again. This process lasted in entirety five hours, from about 11am – 4pm, during the hottest hours of the day, in the midst of an African jungle with giant bugs and insects surrounding so loud that my ears were ringing. The guide did not have a radio, and there are no cell phone towers within the park or even in Dar Salam at the outskirts of the park. We could not contact anyone. Besides our party, there was only one other vehicle touring the park that day, we had passed them an hour prior, and they were broken down, too. I kept watch for lions, giant baboons that were chasing our truck just 15min prior, and any other type of animal that might be threatening to our escape from this predicament. The guide had no form of defense. It was hot; we rationed water and food, and tried our best to fend off exhaustion.

By the third, fourth, and fifth hours we prayed, in every religion we knew how to pray in. The nearest guard we were aware of was more than 6 km away – and that was 6 km of walking through the territory of animals unknown. Night falls shortly after 7pm, and time was running out. By this time Touba, the chauffeur, was coated in mud head to toe. We were dirty, sweaty, petrified, and anxious. The guide, was chain-smoking and ripping down trees instead of searching for dead wood to free the tires from the mud. Slowly by slowly, each tire came loose from the mud, we dug more, we made a path of wood, and we pushed…the four of us almost at the point of tears, at last the truck was liberated! Quite possibly the most joyous Senegalese moment of the summer, thus far. 

Touba, the chauffeur, before the incident

Touba, after