Hakuna Matata
Some 340 kilometers north of Nairobi, Kenya's capital, a jeep came to a halt before a gate, dust still billowing in its wake.
"That gate looks like the entrance, doesn't it?" Lee Jun asked.
From the seat beside him, Go Gi-jin put in his own two cents.
"Sure does. They've gone and painted giraffe spots all over the whole thing. Aigoo, they've done it up just like an amusement park."
Gi-jin had it right. Giraffe patterns covered the roof and the low walls from end to end. The barred gate was split by pillars into what looked like incoming and outgoing lanes.
Jun's gaze drifted from the giraffe-spotted gate to the words painted above it.
"Samburu National Reserve? Does that mean this whole place is a protected area?"
"In Kenya they call their national parks national reserves," Kwak Suho answered.
Jun nodded.
"Well, the entire region is something that needs protecting, so I guess that tracks."
"Once we go through here, it's all safari from there on, ain't it?"
"More or less. The people who come here drive around in their cars. But Gi-jin—do you know what safari actually means?"
"Ain't it a place where you ride around lookin' at animals? Like here, y'know."
"Originally it means 'journey.' You know the language they speak here? In Swahili, safari means travel."
"That's what it means, is it?"
"That was the meaning? I didn't know that either."
When Jun admitted he hadn't known either, Suho added a little more.
"I heard it referred to wandering around in search of game. George told me."
"Is that so? Hey—those over there, are those impala?"
Jun pointed. Three impala were ambling along at an unhurried pace.
"Since when do you know that?"
"You're the one who used to put on Animal Kingdom every single day and lecture us. What are you talking about?"
As a child, Kwak Suho had fallen head over heels for The Lion King, and from there he had graduated from animation to devouring every episode of Animal Kingdom he could find. Whenever he learned something new, showing off to his friends had been the natural next step. At every opportunity he would rattle off the names of animals that lived on the African savanna, preening in front of Lee Jun and Choi Woo-jin. Both of them had already loved animals, and under Suho's early education they had come to recognize most of the species they were likely to see.
"That bird… is that a guineafowl? Oh—jackal."
And so Jun went on happily naming every animal that appeared as they drove.
"Aigoo, Hyungnim, there ain't an animal you don't know."
"If you'd stuck to that guy's side for a year the way I did, you'd know more than I do. Hmm? Is that an oryx? Suho, that's an oryx, right?"
"Yeah."
That was when George, who had been driving, spoke up with a smile.
"Dr. Lee, you really do know a great deal. To know the name of every animal that comes into view…"
"You spend enough time with this one and it just happens," Jun said, pointing at Suho.
George's smile didn't fade.
"Suho does know a lot, that's true."
"Me, know a lot? I just know what everybody knows."
Even as he said it, Suho's hands never stopped moving. He had been sketching the animals as they flashed past, and now he called the other two.
"Elephants, two o'clock."
"That so?"
Gi-jin reacted at once, and a moment later a cry of wonder burst out of him.
"Aigoo, elephants! Elephants! How many even are there? Three—no, four?"
As if looking with the naked eye weren't enough, he clapped binoculars to his face and stared.
"There's more over there. I think they're resting under that tree."
Jun had been looking the other way. Gi-jin's head whipped around.
"Where at?"
"Ten o'clock."
A few great trees stood tall, and in the shade beneath them five or six elephants were standing still.
"W-well, so there is."
George eased the jeep along so Gi-jin could get a proper look.
"A-aigoo, ain't that a baby over there? No, wait—oh, that's just precious. Precious."
Having spotted a calf among the elephants resting in the shade, Gi-jin said the word precious several times over.
"It really is. And the other elephants seem to dote on that little one, don't they?"
"Ain't that the truth? I heard elephants raise their young together, and look at that—they really do."
Jun could see it too, and so could Gi-jin: the way the herd cherished that calf.
"That's right. Elephants are devoted to their young."
The jeep rolled on. A little later, Gi-jin burst out again.
"Aigoo, there's a whole herd of 'em. How many is that?"
He counted them off, one, two—
"Fifteen grown ones and three babies. Aigoo, there really are a lot of elephants."
"I heard there are about fifteen hundred identified elephants in this reserve. Though I heard that a few years ago, so I don't know what the number is now."
"That's all there is? I figured there'd be more."
Gi-jin looked a little disappointed that the number was smaller than he'd imagined. Then his nostrils flared. A snort of anger huffed out of him, and he went on.
"Must be 'cause the poachers got 'em all, Hyungnim, ain't that right?"
"I've heard that in the first ten years of the 2000s, more than a hundred thousand elephants were killed."
"What? A hundred thousand? They out of their minds?"
"They are. All that slaughter, over a pair of tusks."
"Those crazy bastards. Over a pair of tusks! You take a life for that? That's why their tusks are degeneratin'!"
Tusks—ivory. In recent years, elephants had begun to be born without them at all, rather than having them taken.
"That's what I'm saying. Do you know how important those tusks are to an elephant?"
Jun backed Gi-jin up, and Suho, still sketching, put in a word of his own.
"Not just to the elephants. Those tusks help the entire ecosystem."
"What kinda help?"
"Oh—I read this in a book. Elephants use their tusks to dig and find water."
Jun offered what he knew, and Suho filled in the rest.
"Yeah, that's right. When the dry season comes and there's no water, the elephants start digging. And those tusks are strong—they tear up the ground like excavators and eventually find water. They strip bark, too. Sometimes they even knock trees over."
"Aigoo, ain't killin' trees a bad thing?"
"That's what I thought, but apparently not. The savanna ecosystem actually needs it to keep turning."
"I saw a paper on this—elephants leave the trees that absorb more carbon dioxide and pick off the ones that absorb less."
"What? There's a paper on that?"
"That's what I'm sayin'. Hyungnim, where'd you even see a paper like that?"
Suho and Gi-jin both stared at Jun in surprise. He laughed and went on.
"I came across it by accident. It was from an environmental research institute. The conclusion was that elephants are forest rangers. If they go extinct, global warming will speed up."
"Aigoo, elephants really are somethin' else."
"Looks that way."
While they talked, the group arrived at the animal hospital inside the reserve. The people who had been waiting after George's call came out to greet them.
"Welcome. Doctors—I'm Jerome Fritz. Please call me Jerome."
Jerome, the man who had asked Jun for help, held out his hand.
"Hello. I'm Lee Jun. Please call me Jun."
"I'm Go Gi-jin. Please call me Jin—no, Gi."
Gi-jin had been about to ask them to call him Jin, figuring Gi-jin would be too hard—then realized Jin sounded a lot like Jun. So he asked to be called Gi instead.
"Understood. Jin, Gi. Thank you both for coming. You must have had a hard journey, coming all this way."
The unpaved road had left their backsides aching as if they'd been pulverized, but the animals along the way had washed the pain away as if it had never been. Both men answered from the heart.
"Not at all. It was a comfortable trip."
"That's right. We got here just fine."
"Thank you. Hearing you say that, I think I can set down a little of the weight I've been carrying."
"I mean it. Anyway—where are the sick ones?"
Jun looked around as he asked, and Jerome stared at him in surprise.
"You want to see them right now?"
"Yes. You said they're in a lot of pain, didn't you?"
"I was going to let you rest today and ask for your help starting tomorrow. Are you sure that's all right?"
"Yes. We'll just change clothes and go straight there."
"That's right. We came all this way—we should be of as much help as we can before we leave."
Jerome looked at the two of them for a moment, at the way they answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and then he spoke.
"I'm truly grateful. Shall we do that, then?"
A short while later, the two of them had changed into clinic scrubs and set out after Jerome.
As they walked, Jun spoke to Suho, who was keeping pace beside him.
"Suho, get good footage of them. Especially the elephant whose tusk is hurting—I need that one in as much detail as you can."
From his call with Jerome, Jun had learned that the elephant suffering from a broken tusk was wary of people. If she hates humans, she won't talk to me either. So he planned to study her temperament from the recordings—and to check her condition while he was at it.
"Got it."
"You're bringing the sketchbook too?"
"Yeah, well. If I've got time left after filming, I'll draw."
Jun huffed a quiet laugh at that. When I used to tell him to draw, he wouldn't even pretend to listen. Maybe a picture really did need inspiration, the way Suho always said.
Suho had the sketchbook tucked under his arm, and his eyes were shining. He didn't look tired in the slightest. This guy really does love Africa.
And then there was the other one. Gi-jin, too, was looking around with his eyes lit up. These two are something else. It never occurred to Jun that other people looked at him the same way. He was too busy marveling at Suho and Gi-jin's stamina.
Jerome, walking a little ahead, spoke over his shoulder.
"Jun, Gi. There's a bit of a walk to the elephant enclosure. Will you be all right on foot?"
"Yes, of course."
"It's fine."
At their answers, Jerome's expression eased.
"It'll be about thirty minutes. We'd get there faster by car, but some of them are quite sensitive."
"Thirty minutes is no problem."
Just as Jerome had said, after they had walked for about half an hour the elephants came into view. Broad awnings were scattered here and there, and beneath them elephants lay at intervals. Ah. So this is the enclosure. Jun almost laughed. It looked nothing like the enclosure he had pictured. Stereotypes, he thought, really were a stubborn thing.
Jerome approached the nearest elephant and spoke in a gentle voice.
"Hope, how are you today? Does it hurt less? Why aren't you eating your leaves?"
Jerome was built much like Gi-jin, and the tenderness in his voice as he spoke to her made Jun feel the man's sincerity. He's all in on this work. From Suho, Jun had heard that Jerome was a veterinarian out of Caltech in the United States. Of course. That's why he's come all this way to treat them. I think he said this is his eighth year here. Respect settled in Jun's chest as he quietly watched Jerome with the elephant.
Then the elephant opened her mouth.
Pwoo-ooo!
A cry far too adorable for a creature of her size. In Lee Jun's ears, it sounded like this:
The corner of Jun's mouth lifted, just a little. Oh. I can hear her. I can hear her. The elephant's words were coming through.
While Jun was still bright with that small joy, Jerome spoke again, more worried than before.
"The swelling's gone down, so the inflammation seems to have eased—but why would she have no appetite?"
Do I tell him, or not?
Jun hesitated. He could hardly come out with, She says she hates these leaves. But standing there and saying nothing didn't feel right either. Jerome's right. She has to eat well if she's going to get better quickly. He turned over how to bring it up so it would sound natural, then decided to simply ask.
"Could it be she just doesn't like these?"
"These leaves?"
"Yes. There might be something she prefers. I heard elephants like sweet fruit and things like that…"
"Hmm. You think so?"
Jerome passed Jun's suggestion to the keeper standing beside them, asking him to bring leaves of several kinds. Jun relayed that to Hope.
"Hope, some different leaves will be here in a little while. If there's one you like among them, eat that. They'll make sure to keep it coming, so eat a lot and get back on your feet soon, all right?"
That was when the elephant called Hope looked at Jun and tilted her head.
That was how it reached him. Of course, to the people standing beside him, it sounded like this:
Pooo!
A thoroughly adorable little cry.
However Hope's voice had sounded to anyone else, Jun's heart was pounding. It—it worked. We understood each other. Relief came first, and then hope—the hope that treatment might actually get easier.
There was something, however, that Jun had not yet accounted for.
After looking over a few of the elephants, Jerome led them to a place some distance away. An elephant lay collapsed there. She looked as if she were already dead.
As they walked toward her, Jerome spoke.
"That's her. Tata hates people. She hates them, and she's afraid of them."
"Tata—is that from Hakuna Matata?" Suho asked.
Jerome nodded.
"That's right. I named her hoping the treatment would go well and she'd get back on her feet."
Hakuna Matata: a Swahili phrase meaning "no trouble, no worries." It had appeared in The Lion King, and it had once been a phrase Suho could hardly go a day without saying.
Jerome drew close to Tata and spoke.
"Tata, it's the doctor. I came to treat you. To make it stop hurting. Can I treat you today?"
Flap-flap.
Those great ears gave a small, irritable flutter. Even to Jun, who was seeing Tata for the first time, the rejection in that motion was unmistakable—a nervous, almost angry flick.
Jerome let out a thin sigh.
"She's refusing again today. I'm worried sepsis will set in. She isn't eating, either…"
"She looks it. She's far too thin."
Tata lay on her side with her eyes shut tight, her ribs standing out in sharp relief. There was no flesh on her at all.
The words left Jun before he knew he was speaking.
In that instant, a sound came out of her—a thin, leaking hiss, like air escaping.
Jun's face twisted. He turned to Jerome.
"Jerome—has the infection reached Tata's vocal cords?"
"It may have. I don't believe Tata has made a single trumpet sound. Until now I thought it was because she'd fallen into despair, but…"
He asked the keeper who had come along with them. The keeper hadn't heard her trumpet either. Ah. So talking to her is going to be hard.
Disappointment was just settling onto Jun's face when Tata's eyes snapped open.
Gi-jin, startled, grabbed the arm of Suho standing beside him.
"Aigoo, that one—her eyes just opened!"
He must have grabbed too hard. Suho staggered.
"Wh—whoa!"
He didn't fall. Gi-jin was holding on far too tightly for that. But the stagger was enough. The sketchbook tucked under Suho's arm slipped free and hit the ground.
Thud.
Right in front of Tata, of all places. The sketchbook fell open as it landed.
Tata's trunk shot straight up.
"Uh…"
"Aigoo, is she mad?"
Everyone startled backward at once.