(30.05.2023, Nadine Gaerdes)
I faltered; unsettled, like a kudu taking a scent, I sensed closeness. I was not alone.
I had hung my shirt and pants and hat on the standing pod acacia that had been bearing fragrant blossoms since yesterday. My vell shoes were on the trunk under the thorny branches. I wanted to put my glasses in a small fork of the branch where I could easily find them again.
But when that indefinable feeling came over me, before I could descend the slope to the dam, I flipped the temples of my glasses back on. I looked down to the water in the dam, from the direction of which I heard a soft splashing sound.
A figure moved in gentle puffs through the light brown water. Only the head was visible. Turning her face to the evening sun, she squinted her eyes slightly. Then she rose. Emphatically slowly, she stroked her long dark hair back with her wet hands, gathered it in a strand to wring it out, her head tilted back, her eyes closed.
I stared at her. Hands still on the temples of my glasses, I recognized her immediately. Although we hadn’t seen each other in years, I knew at first glance that it was my mother. I was immediately familiar with the graceful movements of her arms, which she had rehearsed for so many years as a ballet dancer and which were in her blood.
She pirouetted, pushed herself off the ground as if she were walking on the toe of a ballet shoe, and dove into the water, her arms stretched gracefully forward, formed into an arc. The circles on the water’s surface trailed behind her, and a few feet away, I traced the swim in my mind, she reappeared. Only a weak exhalation escaped her mouth; the diving distance had given her no trouble.
Once again, she stretched her face towards the red warm evening sun. Gently she lifted her arms gliding up and to the side; elegantly she spread her fingers and looked after them with her chin raised. Thus, she danced on the spot in the water. I thought I could hear singing.
But perhaps I was mistaken; a light breeze had set in and was blowing around my ears.
I freed myself from my torpor and finally took my hands off my glasses. My mother must have arrived during the course of the day, while I was out in the field at work. Therefore, I had not noticed her arrival. She must have remembered the beauty of this little dam and come here to cool off.
Why had she come at all? Nothing had appealed to her all those years on the farm. The silence and loneliness had gone over her head. As a child I was not aware of it. But now, at the sight of her in the water of the dam, I remembered how I had stood many a time at the door to her room and listened. Quiet or even loud sounds from her old records filled the room. When I could catch a glimpse of her room, I recognized a bar on a mirrored wall, the record player in one corner, a large green potted plant next to it. The open windows were shrouded by silk curtains that blew in the wind, giving the room a lively atmosphere. One wall was papered with black and white photographs of people in dance costumes and poses. On a chair next to the door were shirts and tights, and ballet shoes dangled above the backrest on pink ribbons. My mother had created a little world of her own that had nothing in common with the outer world that surrounded her.
One day she was gone. I hadn’t seen her pack, hadn’t seen her leave. She was simply no longer there. Father locked the room, didn’t say another word about her, and I had to accept it.
As silently as she had disappeared then, she had reappeared now.
The light breeze intensified and underscored my agitation. An anger and grief that had been suppressed for years slowly welled up inside me.
I stumbled backwards to my clothes, and as I dressed and turned my gaze to my mother, I saw her arrive on the other side of the dam. She was getting out of the water. Suddenly her graceful prancing movements changed to lumbering limps. Startled, I recognized a prosthesis on her right leg…. She wrapped her slender body in a towel and slowly dragged herself up the embankment. Breathless, I watched her go. The figure that was my mother disappeared among the green thorn bushes.
Photo: Maria Sandmann
Kudu (DE)
Große, elegante Antilope mit einem imposanten Gehörn und weißen Streifen auf den Flanken. Das Weibchen hat große Ohren. Beim Männchen wird der Nacken dunkler, sobald die Haare ausfallen.
Das Weibchen ist kleiner als das Männchen und trägt keine Hörner.
Der Kudu ist ein Savannentier. Kommt sogar in trockener Halbwüste vor, wenn ausreichend Nahrung und Gesträuch zum Schutz vorhanden sind.
Bevorzugt offene Baumsavanne (besonders Dornsavanne) und felsiges Terrain mit Wasser in der Nähe. In Trockengebieten hält er sic him baumbestandenen Umkreis von Flüssen auf.
Bildet Herden mit 4-12 Tieren, die aus Weibchen mit Nachwuchs oder Männchen bestehen. Zur Paarungszeit wird ein Männchen von einigen Weibchen mit ihren Jungen begleitet. Außerhalb der Paarungszeit sind die Bullen Einzelgänger oder schliesse sich in Junggesellenherden von bis zu 6 Tieren zusammen. Sie fressen am frühen Morgen oder am späten Nachmittag und ruhen während der heißesten Tageszeit im Schatten. Sehr scheu; flüchten beim kleinsten Anzeichen von Gefahr in einen Unterschlupf. Wenn er wegrennt, hebt er den Schwanz und zeigt die weiße Unterseite – ein Zeichen von Schreck und richtungweisend.
Der Kudu frisst Blätter, manchmal Sprossen, Schoten (besonders an Dornbäumen) und sogar frisches Gras. 1 Junges wird nach einer Tragezeit von etwa 7 Monaten ganzjährig geboren, hauptsächlich im Spätsommer. Die Weibchen haben zwei Paar Milchdrüsen in der Leiste.
[Seite 96; Ein Taschenführer für Säugetiere im Südlichen Afrika; Burger Cillie.]
Kudu (ENG)
Large, elegant antelope with imposing horns and white stripes on the flanks. The female has large ears. In the male, the nape of the neck becomes darker as the hair falls out.
The female is smaller than the male and does not wear horns.
The kudu is a savannah animal. Occurs even in arid semi-desert when there is sufficient food and shrubbery for shelter.
Prefers open tree savanna (especially thorn savanna) and rocky terrain with water nearby. In dry areas it stays in the tree-covered vicinity of rivers.
Forms herds of 4-12 animals, consisting of females with offspring or males. At mating time, a male is accompanied by a few females with their young. Outside the mating season, bulls are solitary or join together in bachelor herds of up to 6 animals. They feed in the early morning or late afternoon and rest in the shade during the hottest part of the day. Very shy; flee to shelter at the slightest sign of danger. When running away, it raises its tail, showing its white underside – a sign of fright and pointing the way.
The kudu eats leaves, sometimes shoots, pods (especially on thorn trees), and even fresh grass.
1 Young are born year-round after a gestation period of about 7 months, mainly in late summer. Females have two pairs of mammary glands in the groin.
Photo: Maria Sandmann
(DE) Bei einem Aufenthalt auf einer Farm in Namibia will man den abendlichen Ansitz an einer Wasserstelle nicht verpassen. Mit viel Glück und Ausdauer bietet sich einem dieses Bild: ein federleichter eleganter Sprung eines Kudu über den Zaun.
(ENG) When staying on a farm in Namibia, you don’t want to miss the evening hide at a watering hole. With a lot of luck and perseverance you get this picture: an elegant jump of a kudu over the fence.
