Mutware

This weekend we ventured out east to Akagera National Park with Mireille, her Belgian co-worker (another teacher at L’Ecole Belge) Sarah, and Olivier, our driver who is also Sarah’s friend and a native Rwandan. It was nice to see so much of the country so early in our trip, and none of the others with us had ever been to the park either, so it was a new experience for all. It was by far one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen (pictures will be posted shortly) and we saw so many amazing animals, but one of the craziest things I’ll remember was “Mutware.”
Our guide, Charles, told us that there are only 80 elephants in the park, which spans the entire eastern border of Rwanda and Tanzania, and that they are shy animals so we probably would not see any, but he would try. He knew where this lonely male elephant, named “Mutware” (meaning “authority” or “chief”) usually stayed, and had us venture there. We didn’t know much of this, only that we were looking for any elephants we could find, so we were super-psyched to see Mutware from far away. He began to move closer, so I videotaped while others took photos, until Mireille and I realized, almost simultaneously, that he did not seem happy. Olivier did not want to drive away, and it wasn’t until Mutware was within 10 feet of our car that we realized he wasn’t going to stop. Olivier started to drive, but perhaps did not quite realize the consequences of having an angry elephant chase you, because he stopped again to look back. Mutware kept running and came within mere feet of our car before disappearing into the bush. We booked it for at least a mile until Charles assured us we were safer, and drove for about five more miles until he said we could stop to eat without Mutware being able to find us.
For anyone who remembers my story about being charged by a rhino while in South Africa, this may have been even scarier because while the rhino was charging at us just to scare us away to protect her young, this elephant seemed to really want to hurt us. It wasn’t until later that Charles told us that a few years ago, a group of French women got out of their car to take pictures from far away when Mutware charged at full speed, barely giving them enough time to get back in their car and not giving them enough time to drive away. He picked up the car and flipped it completely upside-down, and would have continued to do damage if some park rangers had not been nearby to distract him. Luckily, no one was killed or seriously injured, but military personnel were flown in to tranquilize him. Since then, he has attacked at least once a year and the guides are not s This weekend we ventured out east to Akagera National Park with Mireille, her Belgian co-worker (another teacher at L’Ecole Belge) Sarah, and Olivier, our driver who is also Sarah’s friend and a native Rwandan. It was nice to see so much of the country so early in our trip, and none of the others with us had ever been to the park either, so it was a new experience for all. It was by far one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen (pictures will be posted shortly) and we saw so many amazing animals, but one of the craziest things I’ll remember was “Mutware.”
Our guide, Charles, told us that there are only 80 elephants in the park, which spans the entire eastern border of Rwanda and Tanzania, and that they are shy animals so we probably would not see any, but he would try. He knew where this lonely male elephant, named “Mutware” (meaning “authority” or “chief”) usually stayed, and had us venture there. We didn’t know much of this, only that we were looking for any elephants we could find, so we were super-psyched to see Mutware from far away. He began to move closer, so I videotaped while others took photos, until Mireille and I realized, almost simultaneously, that he did not seem happy. Olivier did not want to drive away, and it wasn’t until Mutware was within 10 feet of our car that we realized he wasn’t going to stop. Olivier started to drive, but perhaps did not quite realize the consequences of having an angry elephant chase you, because he stopped again to look back. Mutware kept running and came within mere feet of our car before disappearing into the bush. We booked it for at least a mile until Charles assured us we were safer, and drove for about five more miles until he said we could stop to eat without Mutware being able to find us.
For anyone who remembers my story about being charged by a rhino while in South Africa, this may have been even scarier because while the rhino was charging at us just to scare us away to protect her young, this elephant seemed to really want to hurt us. It wasn’t until later that Charles told us that a few years ago, a group of French women got out of their car to take pictures from far away when Mutware charged at full speed, barely giving them enough time to get back in their car and not giving them enough time to drive away. He picked up the car and flipped it completely upside-down, and would have continued to do damage if some park rangers had not been nearby to distract him. Luckily, no one was killed or seriously injured, but military personnel were flown in to tranquilize him. Since then, he has attacked at least once a year and the guides are not supposed to take tourists near him anymore, but Charles did anyway. Thanks, Charles.
**As I am writing this, though, Mike realized that he has accidentally taped over the prime video of the elephant charging and us screaming, so you can just get a quick glimpse of how close he got. Needless to say, we are not too happy with Mike right now, and he is not too happy with himself.