November 21, 2010

The 'Hippo Whisperer' who charmed world's deadliest beasts

By Will Davies
KAREN Paolillo sits among the dense vegetation of the river bank, just metres from a heard of wallowing hippos.
Deep in the Zimbabwean bush and without another soul around, she talks to them in soft, soothing tones, while the hippos pay her not the slightest attention and continue to play, roll, groom and even mate.
In a scene which to others might seem suicidal, she is relaxed and seems impossibly comfortable in their presence, without a hint of fear despite the obvious danger.
Then she pauses for breath. Immediately the giant beasts abandon their games, their dozy obliviousness gone and in an instant they are alert and visibly annoyed.
While there have been those who have used their vocal skills to tame horses, live among gorillas or placate lions, Paolillo has mastered the arguably much trickier challenge of bonding with hippos.
Over the past 20 years living almost side by side with the hippos on southern Zimbabwe’s River Turgwe, the British conservationist has used her voice to pacify these wary animals, enabling her to observe them at close quarters.
Gaining unique access to their intimate society she has witnessed never before recorded behaviour.
“To be able to study a pod up close, I had to become a kind of river horse whisperer,” says Karen, referring to the ancient Greek origins of their name.
Unpredictable and aggressive, hippos are widely considered to be one of the most dangerous animals in the world. Particularly hostile towards humans, attacks are common whether in boats or on land, often with no apparent provocation. Though herbivores, they can inflict deadly wounds with their fearsome lower canines.
It has taken Karen years to build up the hippos’ trust and only recently has she felt that the pod has finally come to accept her.
“Recently I was talking to my [hippo] family as they slept in the shallows. Suddenly, the grass rustled behind me. I turned to see the pod’s two tonne bull just a couple of metres away, staring at me. He had charged me several times before, leaving me stranded in the trees. Fearing for my life, I leapt into the river, but submerged rocks snagged me and I floundered. But glancing up, I saw to my astonishment that the bull hadn’t budged. He stood, watching me, but showed no sign of his usual malice. Then, he entered the river at the exact spot I had just vacated, so close that I could see every hair on his hide and smell his horse-like stench. Only then did I realise that my years of talking to these extraordinary hippos had probably just saved my life.”
Hippos fearlessly defend their families and their territories, but, remarkably, they also intervene on behalf of other animals.
“I recently witnessed a croc launch itself at a young monkey that was dangling from vegetation to feed, missing it by millimetres. Seconds later, two hippos charged the crocodile, forcing it to beat a hasty retreat.”
Last month Karen and her husband Jean Roger celebrated 20 years living on the River Turgwe – in basic accommodation and with few luxuries or home comforts – where they have devoted their lives and sacrificed much to caring and protecting the hippos.
“I came to Africa in search of a dream,” she says. “I wanted to work and live with wild animals. It was a dream that blossomed in my mind as a child while watching the movie Born Free, Joy and George Adamson’s story of hand rearing a lioness before releasing it into the wild.”
It would be many years before her dream would become a reality, first training as a journalist before going on to have a variety of jobs, including as a casino croupier.
“That artificial environment was the catalyst that opened the door to Africa and I began searching for opportunities to do something positive for wildlife.”
She qualified and worked for many years as a safari guide – the first woman to do so in Zimbabwe – taking tourists into the bush.
“But when the drought of 1991 happened our lives changed forever. I stepped in with the idea of trying to save the hippos living literally on our doorstep.”
Karen set up the Turgwe Hippo Trust and began by feeding the hippos and building natural pools for the hippos to live in once the Turgwe River dried up. It saved the hippos’ lives.
But there would be many more challenges to follow. Karen and her husband have been held at gunpoint, dodged arrows and endured frequent harassment by poachers.
“Poachers initially had carte blanche to murder and destroy the animals and the forests of this wildlife conservancy. For those first six years, the death and destruction of wildlife within this area and throughout Zimbabwe rose into many thousands of animals. People invaded and took advantage of the lawlessness in the region. Like white ants on wood, they ate into the very life source of this country.”
She added: “It is hard to remain a positive, smiling, happy person when you are enveloped in such events. For people living in the UK it is all totally unimaginable - the stuff one sees on the television, not in real life. I think you have to have a certain type of personality and an inner strength to be able to face the challenges that we face daily here.”
For the last 20 years Karen and Jean Roger’s presence, and their regular patrols at their self-styled Hippo Haven, has not only kept the hippos alive but saved the lives of countless animals in the area.
Every year they remove hundreds and sometimes thousands of snares planted by illegal settlers who have moved into the surrounding area in the past decade.
As a result of their efforts, aided by public donations, the number of hippos in the Turgwe River has increased dramatically. In 1992 they were fighting to save the last 13 hippos struggling for survival. Since then, more than 40 hippo calves have been born.
But as rewarding as their work is, living deep in the bush still has its drawbacks for Karen. “What is hard is seeing others get rich and make money on blood and death while we struggle to survive and eat rubbish in order to keep going.
“It is also tough not having like-minded friends that we can pop around to and let out our thoughts and emotions. There are others like us in Southern Africa, but none of them are near us here. Like us, they do not have the time to move around for pleasure and see each other socially – the distances are too great. So we keep going as best we can.”

To donate to the trust write to: Turgwe Hippo Trust, 1 Rosaville Road, London SW6 7BN.

November 19, 2010

Honeymoon bride's death highlights reality of travel in Africa


By Will Davies
WHEN Shrian and Anni Dewani took the fateful decision to take a detour through the Cape Town township of Gugulethu, in search of a popular restaurant made famous by Jamie Oliver, they seemingly had little or no perception of the danger they faced. It may be that accustomed to life in India they had considered it no more dangerous than walking through the slums of Mumbai. But this fatal error of judgement, though naïve, could easily have been prevented.
The honeymooners were staying at the exclusive Cape Grace hotel and if, as is highly likely, their taxi had been booked by the hotel the driver should have been fully aware that taking tourists into a township late at night was not just reckless but highly inadvisable. It is no surprise that as yet the driver has kept a low profile and is staying well clear of media attention.
Local reaction here is one of shock but also of frustration – the attack will inevitably tarnish the city’s reputation for safety and exacerbate the fear stoked by the British press in the run up to lat summer’s World Cup, causing reverberations throughout South Africa’s lucrative tourism industry.
While the Dewani’s regrettable excursion into a township has stoked the debate as to the danger of visiting a township, the conviction that central Cape Town is otherwise safe to visit has held equally strong.
But while there has been an impressive clean up job in the centre of Cape Town over the last ten years – from dilapidated and decidedly unsavoury to attractive tourist destination with a booming local economy, countless designer shops, galleries, expensive restaurants and boutique hotels – the possibility of being attacked or mugged nevertheless remains very real. Tourists come to Cape Town expecting the south of France, and while it is still a major holiday destination and is regularly voted among the world’s top holiday destinations, it is still Africa, and vigilance is necessary.
Aside from the tourist bubbles of the Disney-like V&A Waterfront or the fashionable beach resort of Camps Bay, venture under the shadow of Table Mountain into the city centre and a degree of watchfulness is a must.
I moved to Cape Town earlier this year with my wife, in search of a more balanced way of life not only for the obvious attractions of almost year-long sun, the advantages of a weak local currency, fine wine and friendly people, but also to explore a nation which has been the subject of increasing fascination. We were unconcerned by any potential danger, and saw Cape Town as no more risky than where we had lived until then – Hackney, where street robberies and violent crime are all too common.
But we have unfortunately been proved wrong. In the past two weeks alone we have been mugged twice at knifepoint – both times on Long Street, the cultural hub of the city. Once was early evening, the other in broad daylight, and both happened on busy streets. On a daily basis we face harassment and threats from beggars and while it is heart-wrenching to witness their miserable existence, the hazard they pose cannot be ignored. We now carry cans of pepper spray, which is legal in South Africa, keeping it to hand in case of any eventuality.
In a country where almost half the population lives on less than two dollars a day, little is done to help the homeless – while cabinet ministers enjoy six figure annual incomes more than double those of their British counterparts.
South Africa has been widely praised for its handling of the World Cup, which passed peacefully and without serious incident. However in the run up to the tournament, Cape Town’s streets were cleared of homeless people by the provincial government – taken away to temporary sites out of the city which human rights groups described at the time as akin to concentration camps.
Many of the most dispossessed are also addicted to crystal meth, known locally as tick, which is especially rife among the Cape Coloured community.
Townships are obvious no-go zones. There is a big market for township walking tours and despite their rising popularity and promotion by Cape Town’s tourism board, for most Cape Town residents – white and black – townships are treated with immense trepidation. To walk through them voluntarily is regarded as extremely foolhardy. Recently my father-in-law, who grew up in South Africa, took his first ever visit to a township. It was Kayelitsha, the notorious informal settlement where last Saturday night Anni Dewani was discovered murdered in the back of her abandoned taxi.
His car had been stolen and after quickly realising the police’s efforts would be ineffectual, he went looking for it. Living in the wealthy suburb of Somerset West, where the Dewanis had dined the night of their attack, he figured his local township would be a logical starting point. After much deliberation he eventually dared to enter and within an hour he had rescued the vehicle, albeit without a battery or any wheels.
He took a chance, and the reality is that while these tours are widely touted to the thousands of visitors to South Africa, they still face a significant risk, even in the daytime and regardless of any security measures put in place by the tour operator.
Townships are not game safaris – yet in many ways the purpose of the tourist’s visit is no different. Just like the Dewanis, they go to catch a glimpse of ‘real Africa’ but unlike a game reserve all they get to see is abject poverty and misery.