Notes from Camp
What It’s Like to Train as a Nature Guide in the African Wilderness
Each and every game drive we’ve experienced in Africa has flooded us with knowledge from the incredible guides who lead them. Out here, you don’t just learn facts—you hear stories about how every creature and plant plays a vital role in the ecosystem.
It’s that knowledge and storytelling that fascinated me, and why I decided to train as a nature guide at the African Guide Academy in Botswana. Here's a peek into what I learned written in letters home—dodging scorpions, tracking leopards, getting close to elephants, and deepening my appreciation for birds.
October 5, 2024
Dear Ben and Emory,
I just arrived at camp and, wow, I already miss you two and Dad. I might have been a little too ambitious with this whole "wildlife guide training" thing! But you know how these things go: terror first, then excitement kicks in (hopefully).
My tent is pretty cool, though. It's right by a waterhole, so I've already seen elephants, hyenas, warthogs, and buffalo swing by for a drink. There’s even a bathroom, but the shower is...an adventure. Picture me hoisting a bucket with a pulley, then trying to wash while holding off spiders.
Tonight at dinner, we were interrupted by a commotion—a leopard sauntered through camp for a drink from a puddle. I now understand why we’re urged to be very careful walking back to our tents at night. Fun fact: leopards are stealthy enough to sneak up on prey within five meters before striking. Yikes!
But here's the thing: the most dangerous animal here isn’t even the leopard—it’s the Cape buffalo. Locally known as “widow-makers” for a reason. Two of them have already ambled near my tent. We’re careful to walk in pairs at night slowly scanning with our torches for glowing eyes.
After a short intro, students will start leading the game drives tomorrow. Getting thrown in the deep end. Wish me luck!
Love,
Mom
Elephants gather at a waterhole to drink and socialize, while baboons swing into the action, adding their own mischief
October 7, 2024
Dear Kris, Ben & Emory,
I’m already learning a lot. I even recognized the birds outside my tent by their harsh morning alarm call (red-billed spurfowl!).
We wake up at 5:30 a.m.—just like your school mornings—and head straight into the bush for game drives and tracking.
This morning, we ventured off the vehicle to explore the tracks. In the meantime, we stumbled on a young male elephant. He had these massive ears fanning out, and his trunk—so powerful and dexterous—swayed slowly as he tried to figure us out.
Our guide urged us to stay still. Elephants can be gentle giants, but a curious bull can be unpredictable. Thankfully, after what felt like hours, he gave us one last long stare, flared his ears, and sauntered backward off into the trees.
Did you know that elephants’ trunks are not only used for smelling but also for drinking, grabbing food, and even comforting each other?
They can lift objects as small as a single blade of grass or as heavy as 700 pounds. When elephants touch trunks, it’s often a greeting, kind of like shaking hands. With 150,000 muscles in their trunk (more than in the entire human body!), they’ve evolved the perfect multitool.
We've been watching elephants so often I’m starting to really notice the details. They’re highly social animals, with deep family bonds, and can live for up to 70 years.
The matriarch leads her herd using memories of where to find water, safe paths, and other resources. It’s believed that elephants can remember the exact locations of water holes and routes they’ve used decades ago—perfect for surviving the harsh conditions of the African bush. They’re basically the world’s best natural GPS system!
They communicate through deep rumbles, which are so low we can barely hear them. It’s a sound I’ve grown accustomed to at night in my tent. What’s really amazing is that they can “hear” these rumbles through their feet. Elephants detect vibrations in the ground—kind of like feeling sound—and can communicate over long distances. It’s like they have a secret language only they understand.
They are so big and powerful, but also delicate and incredibly complex. They have a way of making you feel small in the best possible way.
Love,
Mom
October 11, 2024
Dear K, B & E,
Today was a highlight—we tracked a leopard on foot! We left camp at 6 a.m. with the plan to study plants, but barely three minutes in, fresh leopard tracks changed the game. Our guide, rifle in hand, was all business. He laid down the rules: single file, no talking, and if you spot something, snap your fingers. Apparently, snapping is the silent scream of the bush.
Leopard tracks are fascinating—distinctive, even. Their paws have three clear lobes at the back, like an upside-down “M” for males, while females have a more trapezoid shape. So, we knew we were following a big male. We weren’t just relying on footprints, though.
Along the way, we found where he’d stopped to rest, where he’d sprayed his territory (yes, leopards mark their turf just like our dog), and here’s a fun fact: leopard pee smells like buttered popcorn. I’ll never see movie night the same again!
We lost the track a couple of times, but together we were like a pack of bloodhounds—always able to find it again, whether in soft sand or prickly grass. We kept at it for hours, the sun rising higher and higher, when finally—there it was.
Up in a tree, we saw the flash of red: a leopard kill, neatly stashed. And underneath, hidden in the shade, was our guy. He looked so chill, paws tucked under his head, tail flicking lazily. We were less than 30 meters away, watching him nap like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Suddenly, he lifted his head, spotting us. After a good long stare, he decided we weren’t worth the effort and simply trotted off.
There’s something incredible about walking in a leopard’s footsteps, following the same path he’s walked moments before. He was there, breathing, stalking, resting—just like us. We spent the rest of the day feeling pretty proud of ourselves for actually finding him.
Miss you all and sending big cat love,
Mom
October 12, 2024
Dear Family,
I know the big animals like leopards and elephants steal the show, but honestly, it’s the little things that have fascinated me the most out here. The more I learn, the more I realize how every creature, no matter its size, plays a role in keeping the Okavango Delta in balance.
Did you know birds fly all the way from Europe and Asia just to feed on winged termites (called alates)? When these termites take flight to form new colonies, it’s like an all-you-can-eat buffet for migrating birds!
And those same termites? They’re the ones responsible for the massive mounds that dot the landscape here.
Termites are known as "ecosystem engineers" because their mounds, some reaching up to six meters high, create elevated land in the flooded delta. During the rainy season, these mounds serve as dry islands for reptiles, birds, and mammals like antelope.
Speaking of small creatures, I’ve also learned about antlions. These tiny critters are like the ninjas of the Delta, creating little funnel-shaped traps in the sand to catch ants and other insects. They’re small but mighty, keeping insect populations in check and contributing to the ecosystem’s balance. Plus, their pits help stabilize the sand, creating mini-habitats for other creatures. One of my fellow students just loves trying to bait these guys.
Miss you guys and can’t wait to share more of these stories when I’m back!
Love,
Mom
October 13, 2024
Dear Family,
Last night we had our big "sleep out" in the bush, which sounds a lot more peaceful than it actually is. Not like camping back home.
We arrived at our spot right as the sun started to set. It seems like Africa has sunsets that last forever—the sky turns every shade of orange and purple before sinking into darkness. And then, the night closes in, and suddenly it’s just you, the fire, and the distant sounds of animals who might consider you a midnight snack.
There were a few simple rules for the night: #1—Keep the fire going at all times. #2 —At least one person must stay awake (lucky me got the 2 a.m. to 4 a.m. shift). #3— Every few minutes, scan the bushes with the torch. Just to make sure you’re still alone.
Our guide had this relaxed approach, saying, "If you see a hyena, don’t wake me. If it’s a wild dog, don’t wake me. But if you see a leopard and it’s close, okay, maybe wake me." I got the impression he said this mostly because he just wanted to see it.
But my bigger concern wasn’t in the bushes—it was at our feet. One of the students spotted something scurrying near the fire: a scorpion. But not just any scorpion. It was a Buthidae or Granulated Thick-tailed Scorpion, the most venomous in all of Southern Africa. These guys are responsible for several fatal stings here in Botswana. As if one wasn’t enough, we saw two more that night.
The sighting reminded Mpo, one of the students in our group, of a wild story from when he was a kid. One morning, his mom was nagging him to get out of bed and take care of the cows. Grudgingly, he pulled on his rubber boots and trudged outside, but after a few steps, he felt a sharp sting in his foot. He collapsed, feeling nauseous and shaky. His mom, still worried about the cows, didn’t believe him when he said something was wrong, so she told him to get up and quit being dramatic. That is, until he kicked off his boot—and out flew a Buthidae scorpion.
Mpo ended up spending three weeks in the hospital, barely able to move because the venom made him completely numb. And that was over Christmas! Lucky for him, he made a full recovery, and still wants to be a nature guide.
Stay safe and scorpion-free,
Mom
Hey guys,
The past couple of days we’ve spent hours observing a large pack of wild dogs —54 of them, including a bunch of playful pups. They’re endangered, so it’s rare to see a pack this big, and it was incredible to watch how close-knit they are.
African wild dogs are all about teamwork. The pack does everything together—hunting, raising pups, and even caring for their sick or injured members. In fact, they’re one of the few predators that share food with those who can’t hunt. It’s almost like they’ve got their own family system, making sure everyone’s looked after.
Watching the pups was pure chaos, though! I even watched a brave one torment a Cape buffalo. Reminds me a little of our sweet wild dog, Tuli.
You can see why they’re also called “painted wolves”—their coats are these amazing splashes of black, brown, white, and gold, with no two dogs looking exactly alike. Sadly, there are only about 6,000 left in the wild.
They face a lot of challenges—habitat loss, disease from domestic dogs, and being hunted. It’s tough out here for them, and conservationists are working hard to protect the remaining packs.
Can’t wait to see you all soon!
Love,
Mom
