The Circle of Life

Walking to the Univeristy of Kwazulu-Natal early this morning for a rendezvous with a professor, I found my regular path obstructed – not by construction, traffic or inclement weather. Rather, it was a force of a different sort that left me dead in my tracks – monkeys. In the middle of my accustomed route to school lay at least a dozen monkeys dancing and frolicking, teasing each other from treetops, swinging from branch to branch with breathtaking nimbleness. Frozen in place, I contemplated my next move. Do I brazenly walk straight through the middle? Turn around and find an alternative route? Try to sneak my way through the bushes unnoticed? Finally, I decided on a course of action and stealthily tried to drift past them unperceived. Foolish thinking on my part. Taking no more than a few steps, the monkeys became motionless, eying me suspiciously. Petrified, I looked up into the sky – at least another dozen were now scrutinizing me from the branches above.

Having had no prior experience with monkeys, aside from gaping at them through zoo bars, I was clueless about how to react. Reaching slowly through my backpack, I located a large bag of peanuts and gently tossed them onto the road. Intrigued, the primates diverted their attention away from me, one after the other scrambling towards the dispersed nuts. Seizing the opportunity, I cautiously reversed out of their midst into a clearing a slight distance away, exhaling with relief. After calming down, I sat down on the grass to watch the impressive creatures. While monkeys to me represent something utterly foreign, the peak of exoticism and mysteriousness, locals here live amongst them as we in North America live amongst squirrels. In fact, I wonder how people here would react if they came across a crowd of squirrels blocking their road – would they too stop and stare in wonder?

Personally, from my biased North American perspective, I’m inclined to believe that South Africans would not harbor any fascination for America’s most prevalent rodent. The little, ugly, grey nuisances litter our trashcans, pester our picnics and nibble on just about anything they find. Monkeys on the other hand strike me as brilliant ad formidable animals – sprinting on all fours, leaping from branches to faraway treetops, clinging easily with one small hand to plants towering meters above the ground. Perhaps it is their human resemblance that captures my attention most; it’s easier for me to imagine monkeys conversing, drawing affection, possessing some degree of higher intellect. The breed that prevails in this part of South Africa – the Verved – is distinct for its thin physique, incredible quickness and impressive agility. The males can be distinguished from the females in a rather easy manner. The females have ruby-colored genitalia, while the males have large, conspicuous, bright blue testicles – veritable blue balls.

After my morning monkey excitement, I had a pleasant afternoon at the beach where I encountered yet another type of unfamiliar species. Littering the shores, almost as numerous as the post-noon swimmers, were hoards of transparent jellyfish, some extending over a foot in diameter. Washed onto the sand, the ones I observed looked as if they were struggling to survive out of their natural habitats, their tentacles falling limp and droopy under the dry, burning heat. Swimming out rather far, I had the not-so-unique pleasure of suffering my initiating jellyfish sting – a sharp bite that pricked my left ankle above the heel. Returning home that night, my flatmates laughed at my interest in the strange sea creatures – again, something that was entirely foreign to me was a regular spectacle in their daily lives.

This morning I struggled out of bed at an ungodly hour to accompany Justin to the pre-sunrise beach. As a hardcore surfer, Justin regularly wakes up as early as 5:00 a.m. to catch the early morning waves and beat the noontime crowds. Arriving at the deserted beach, I dove into the waves, treading water as the sun peaked its beams over the horizon, flooding the seaside city with first light. Watching Justin cut and swerve through the powerful waves, navigating their currents with spectacular agility, I too wished that I had grown up surfing. I lazily floated back to shore and lay half submerged, allowing the powerful waves to rush towards me and throw me under their powerful cover.

As the sun grew increasingly prominent in the distance, I walked along the beach to take in one of Durban’s premier tourist attractions – uShaka Marine World. Containing impressive collections of seals, penguins, sharks and all sorts of fish, I spent my morning observing their movements, watching them swim about. I was even selected to pet and take a picture with one of the older male seals, a distinctly amusing experience. Around noon, it was time for the main event – a spectacularly orchestrated dolphin show. Having never visited any of the States’ premier aquariums, the show left me breathless, in awe of the elegant marine creatures’ remarkable synchronization and rapidity.

Oftentimes, countries diverge not only in their natural climates but also in the types of life forms that their local environments can sustain – the animals I’ve come across in the past few days all strike me as incredibly alien and peculiar. Having never lived by the ocean or shared a path with a primate, I never cease to be amazed by things that locals here find completely unexceptional.