In the first couple of days that I was in Katima, Glenn took me to meet Biggy, the man that looked after the horses on the Fish Farm. We had a brief chat with him and agreed that I would meet him at the stables at 7am the next morning to help him with the horses. We had asked Katie, the owner of the Fish Farm if I could help Biggy with the horses and maybe go riding, but she hadn’t seemed too keen. I decided to go on what Biggy had said so got up early the next day and headed over to the stables. I was apprehensive at first as I hadn’t ridden for at least a year, plus did not know Biggy at all and was worried that he’d just canter off into the bush leaving me struggling on behind. As it happened he actually asked me which horse I’d prefer to ride - I chose Sneakers, a cute little mare - and we started slowly down the path from the Fish Farm. It came apparent quite quickly that I was a little rusty… boy did I ache the next day.
And that’s how it all started. I continued to meet Biggy at 7am and go riding with him every morning. When it started to get even hotter we would set off at 6.30am instead to try to avoid being out in the blistering sunshine for too long. Ideally we should have set off at sunrise, but being up at 5am didn’t sound like a nice idea to me so we stuck to 6.30am. We’d ride for about an hour each day after tacking up the horses, then wash them down with a hose before setting them out to graze. It took me a while to work out why it was so funny washing them down, as I knew we’d always washed the horses at the yard I used to ride at but for some reason it was far more amusing doing it this time round. Eventually I realized why; we used to always use a bucket and sponge so that we wouldn’t spook the horses, so I’d never pointed a hose at a horse before, but Biggy’s slightly more cavalier approach was hilarious. The horses weren’t keen but had grown used to it, so they tended to glare at you with their ears back but not kick up too much of a fuss. The addition of Sunlight (washing up liquid) just made matters even more funny. The daily routine of lathering them up then rinsing them off certainly kept me amused. Most days I’d even give Whisper (Biggy’s horse) a unicorn horn with his mane, which he was never too keen on.
After riding Sneakers the first day I decided to give Cooper a go. He is a huge chestnut gelding and is as fat as he is tall. Initially I intended to ride him every day to get him fit, but after a few days of his lazy rides I was exhausted by the constant needing to push him on so decided to try someone else. I went for Apache… he is pure evil when he’s in the stable but he’s lovely to ride. Most mornings I would attempt to go in the stable to tack him up and was met with attempts to bite me so that Biggy would have to come and put his bridle on. I grew to love him and although he never gave up trying to bite me, I started to feel that maybe he was just misunderstood. I once went into the stable with him and managed to get to the side of him to attempt tacking him up when he suddenly decided he’d changed his mind and tried to kick me. Luckily for me I ended up wedged between his side and the fence so he couldn’t reach me. Once the shock had worn off I thought it was really funny. Biggy was quite worried at first, but soon started laughing with me.
After the first couple of days my rustiness wore off and I was riding quite well. We’d trot all the way from the Fish Farm up to the power station sometimes, which was a good few kilometers away, then all the way back again. Sometimes we would ride to the rapids at the border to sit in the nice breeze for a few minutes and sometimes we would ride out into the open fields so that we could canter across them. We always came back via the Zambezi so that we could say good morning to the glorious river, and on a number of occasions would pass a naked man or two washing so I would avert my eyes as we rode past. It was a really lovely way to see some of the country, not to mention some of the wildlife. On a few mornings we saw hippos in the river so stopped to watch them for a bit, and quite often would ride through a whole group of baboons which I always found a little unnerving after all the stories Biggy had told me about them attacking people. They never approached us though, just stood very still and watched us disappear into the bush. One of the paths back to the Fish Farm went through a group of trees that the Cicadas love, which meant that they would constantly fly into me, leaving me shrieking with terror and Apache wondering what the hell I was doing. Biggy always found this highly amusing.
One of the nicest things about going riding every day, other than seeing the country and getting a lot fitter, was getting to know Biggy. We’d chat the whole way round about all sorts of different things. Biggy is from Zimbabwe and so is a lot better educated than the locals in Namibia and Zambia. He was an orphan from a young age and told me all about his life growing up. We talked a lot about what’s going on in Zimbabwe now with Mugabe, and it was very sad to hear it from an insider’s point of view. Biggy planned to go back over Christmas to see how the country was getting on, but said that the last time he’d been there what used to be farm land had just turned to nothing. He thought that gradually they are pulling themselves back together after the currency crashing and all the farms shutting down, but it is difficult to tell how long it will take.
And that’s how it all started. I continued to meet Biggy at 7am and go riding with him every morning. When it started to get even hotter we would set off at 6.30am instead to try to avoid being out in the blistering sunshine for too long. Ideally we should have set off at sunrise, but being up at 5am didn’t sound like a nice idea to me so we stuck to 6.30am. We’d ride for about an hour each day after tacking up the horses, then wash them down with a hose before setting them out to graze. It took me a while to work out why it was so funny washing them down, as I knew we’d always washed the horses at the yard I used to ride at but for some reason it was far more amusing doing it this time round. Eventually I realized why; we used to always use a bucket and sponge so that we wouldn’t spook the horses, so I’d never pointed a hose at a horse before, but Biggy’s slightly more cavalier approach was hilarious. The horses weren’t keen but had grown used to it, so they tended to glare at you with their ears back but not kick up too much of a fuss. The addition of Sunlight (washing up liquid) just made matters even more funny. The daily routine of lathering them up then rinsing them off certainly kept me amused. Most days I’d even give Whisper (Biggy’s horse) a unicorn horn with his mane, which he was never too keen on.
After riding Sneakers the first day I decided to give Cooper a go. He is a huge chestnut gelding and is as fat as he is tall. Initially I intended to ride him every day to get him fit, but after a few days of his lazy rides I was exhausted by the constant needing to push him on so decided to try someone else. I went for Apache… he is pure evil when he’s in the stable but he’s lovely to ride. Most mornings I would attempt to go in the stable to tack him up and was met with attempts to bite me so that Biggy would have to come and put his bridle on. I grew to love him and although he never gave up trying to bite me, I started to feel that maybe he was just misunderstood. I once went into the stable with him and managed to get to the side of him to attempt tacking him up when he suddenly decided he’d changed his mind and tried to kick me. Luckily for me I ended up wedged between his side and the fence so he couldn’t reach me. Once the shock had worn off I thought it was really funny. Biggy was quite worried at first, but soon started laughing with me.
After the first couple of days my rustiness wore off and I was riding quite well. We’d trot all the way from the Fish Farm up to the power station sometimes, which was a good few kilometers away, then all the way back again. Sometimes we would ride to the rapids at the border to sit in the nice breeze for a few minutes and sometimes we would ride out into the open fields so that we could canter across them. We always came back via the Zambezi so that we could say good morning to the glorious river, and on a number of occasions would pass a naked man or two washing so I would avert my eyes as we rode past. It was a really lovely way to see some of the country, not to mention some of the wildlife. On a few mornings we saw hippos in the river so stopped to watch them for a bit, and quite often would ride through a whole group of baboons which I always found a little unnerving after all the stories Biggy had told me about them attacking people. They never approached us though, just stood very still and watched us disappear into the bush. One of the paths back to the Fish Farm went through a group of trees that the Cicadas love, which meant that they would constantly fly into me, leaving me shrieking with terror and Apache wondering what the hell I was doing. Biggy always found this highly amusing.
One of the nicest things about going riding every day, other than seeing the country and getting a lot fitter, was getting to know Biggy. We’d chat the whole way round about all sorts of different things. Biggy is from Zimbabwe and so is a lot better educated than the locals in Namibia and Zambia. He was an orphan from a young age and told me all about his life growing up. We talked a lot about what’s going on in Zimbabwe now with Mugabe, and it was very sad to hear it from an insider’s point of view. Biggy planned to go back over Christmas to see how the country was getting on, but said that the last time he’d been there what used to be farm land had just turned to nothing. He thought that gradually they are pulling themselves back together after the currency crashing and all the farms shutting down, but it is difficult to tell how long it will take.
We talked a lot about the differences between England and Africa too. He always found it funny to describe what the different bugs tasted like so he could watch the look of disgust on my face and quiz me about the type of food I eat. Not that long ago Biggy got HIV. It is a huge problem in Africa even though there are massive campaigns going on to prevent it spreading even further. The problem is that the locals don’t tend to listen to the advice and don’t bother using protection, so it spreads rapidly. Then when they do catch the disease they don’t seek help or take the medication. HIV can be controlled successfully if you take the medication and lead a reasonably healthy lifestyle. Biggy shows how successful this theory is. I didn’t know he had HIV as he’d never told me, it was only when Dick Sharp explained to Mum and I what had happened that I knew. Looking at him you wouldn’t be able to guess it at all. Once I knew though it did occasionally pop into my head as it’s not something I’ve ever come across before. There was one ride when I was talking about the bloody mosquitoes as by this time I was absolutely covered in bites. I had scabs down my arms from where I’d been scratching them (and yes I know you’re not supposed to scratch, but they’re just so itchy!) and Biggy asked if he could feel them. I didn’t think anything of it and offered him my arm to touch. It was only when he’d prodded them a bit did it start running through my head about him having HIV, and was it really stupid of me to let him touch an open cut on my arm? It’s sad really because I’m sure the chances of catching it from a fingertip on a bite are ridiculously small, but still I couldn’t help it going through my head.
A lot of funny things happened on our rides, other than being warned off by a snake and attacked by cicadas, we once met an armed police man. He was just lazily wondering around the bush. I’m not entirely sure why he was there but it’s not the kind of thing you want to discuss with an armed man, so I just politely said hi. He stopped to chat to us for a while and then asked Biggy if he had any horses spare as he was after a whole tail to give to his cousin who is the chief of one of the tribes. Biggy apologized saying that he couldn’t help and rode on leaving me very confused. Once out of earshot I asked him what that was all about. He explained that the chiefs use them as part of their dress and so this policeman wanted a tail. I asked if he meant just cut off the horse and to my horror Biggy explained that the horse needs to be dead as they take the whole tail, bone included to keep all the hair together. I got the distinct impression that the policeman had been eyeing up the horses we were riding. Not my idea of a nice accessory.
I was really lucky to ride every day for free as most people had to pay Katie to ride the horses. I’d offered to help Biggy mucking them out and feeding them etc but it was very rare that he actually asked me to do anything. The whole time I was there I only mucked out the stables once and helped Biggy with the gardening once. I was really sad to say goodbye to him as we’d become good friends, but we exchanged email addresses and promised to stay in touch.
No comments:
Post a Comment