#she does end up working at a zoo and once rescued a leopard out of a well

[livwritesstuff]

so those following my steddie-dads series may know that Steve and Eddie named their daughters after important people in their life. Moe (or Lucy Maureen) gets her middle name from Eddie’s mom. Robbie (Amelia Robin) is named after Robin, obviously. Their third and final baby Hazel’s middle name is James, after Hopper.

In the aftermath of all the shit they went through in Hawkins, it didn’t take long for Jim to add Steve to his collection of “kids who pretend to be punching bags for people they care about” (his words). By the time Steve was stepping into adulthood, Hop was Steve’s dad in everything but blood and legal title (and that was even before Steve’s estrangement from his actual father), and when Hazel was born in 2007, he and Joyce were Steve’s second call (Robin being the first, obviously). 

Two days later, their plane touched down in Boston.

Hazel was asleep when they arrived, and didn’t stir even while Steve passed her into Hopper’s arms

“Christ, she’s small,” Jim says quietly, looking down at the little baby.

“She’s actually bigger than Robbie was,” Steve replies, “Crazy different from the older two now though.”

For a second, Steve just watches, watches as Hopper adjusts the sleeping baby, watches him run a finger over her little cheek.

“Did you see her name, hon?” Joyce asks him, gesturing to the name embroidered on Hazel’s little hat (Steve had told her the name in advance, learning from experience that it wasn’t wise to catch them both off-guard at once).

Steve watches Jim squint to read the pink stitching, holding back a dumb comment about how he needed his glasses.

“Hazel…James,” Hop mumbles. He pauses, clears his throat, “That’s…what a name. Where’d you guys come up with that one.”

“After you,” Steve tells him, “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Jim is quiet for a long time, and Steve couldn’t say anything else around the tightness in his throat even if he wanted to, so he stays quiet too while Ed wraps an arm around his waist and presses a firm kiss to the side of his head. 

“It’s a big honor,” Hopper finally says, his voice wrecked, not taking his eyes off the baby.

Steve can only nod.

“Well deserved,” Eddie tells him seriously, “She’s got big shoes to fill.”

Then, because he can’t help himself, he adds, “And if she starts spilling classified government secrets, we’ll know who to blame.”

[bigtinyworldtravel]

After six days in Etosha National Park, we failed to spot any big cats – and this was what I had dreamt about when envisioning an African safari!  Therefore, we took matters into our own hands and went to the one place we could guarantee a sighting of these magnificent creatures: Okonjima Nature Reserve.

The Dilemma

For years, I’ve always wanted to go to Africa.  I’d seen pictures of magical sunsets, vast open plains, and some of the most unique wildlife on the planet.  Above all, I wanted to see the big cats.  Lions, cheetahs, leopards.  And not just in a zoo.  I wanted to see them in the wild – soaking in the desert sun, hunting, playing.  I’d seen videos and pictures where a couple of cheetahs jumped on top of the hoods of safari vehicles and took a nap.  I wanted to be in one of those vehicles!

So I was naturally ecstatic to finally have an opportunity to travel to Namibia, where we would spend three entire weeks – one of which in a wildlife-dense national park – and have ample opportunity to finally observe these beautiful predators.

Etosha National Park

After a few days in Etosha National Park, we still hadn’t seen any cats, but I wasn’t too dismayed; we’d seen so much other wildlife, and we still had time.  Then we learned when best to find them (at sunrise or sunset) and where best to find them (on the west end of the park).  And it worked!  We saw our first cats!

See the lions? They blend in so well…

…but they were waaaaaaaaayy in the distance.  These lions were wonderful to watch through our binoculars, but they weren’t anywhere near close enough to get decent photographs (and that’s torture for a photographer such as myself).  However, now that we knew the secret, I trusted we’d get another chance.

But we didn’t.

Another three days of busting down the gates at sunrise and 10 hours of driving and parking at watering holes yielded us everything but cats.  We saw nary a whisker for the rest of our time there.

I was so disappointed.

Along the road

But there was still a modicum of hope.  We might yet see one along our many other drives throughout the country (though the highest concentration – thus the greatest chances – were back in the park).

After another few days of camping feline-free, we were scheduled to keep driving yet farther away from any potential sightings.  So I turned to good ‘ole Google, and I discovered the Okonjima Nature Reserve.

We made a quick decision to backtrack four hours to visit the reserve, nixing a few of our other plans.  I was going to see African cats, darn it!

About Okonjima

The Okonjima Nature Reserve is a 200 square kilometer haven for predators, originally established in 1986 as a guest farm.

Much of Namibian land is actually used for cattle farming, and farmers don’t much enjoy having their livestock hunted by local felines.  Therefore, these amazing animals are often shot to preserve their livelihood.

Unfortunately, this doesn’t actually address the underlying problem.  Cats are territorial, and when one leaves an area, another is quick to take its place.  Killing one of these felines only encourages another to come instead.

AfriCat

The AfriCat Foundation was created in 1993 to address this growing issue, originally serving simply as a reserve for leopards and cheetahs rescued from farmlands.  The foundation’s mission now is to educate local farmers on alternate means to protecting their herds (like fences and grazing schedules), and it has since expanded to accommodate leopard, cheetah, hyena, jackal, and other large carnivore populations.

Okonjima is home to the AfriCat Foundation, and every day, they strive to stop the hunting of these animals, relocate those in danger, and research and track populations to better understand their behaviors.  At the reserve, they also welcome guests to experience safaris to see these gorgeous predators, spread awareness of the project, and raise funds for the research and care.

About the cats

Cats on the reserve come from several kinds of situations.  Some were relocated from farms where they might have otherwise been killed by frustrated farmers.  Some were rejects after someone’s “pet” grew too large for the care they could provide.  And some were cubs orphaned when their mother hunted too close to a homestead.

Now, Okonjima is home to around 35 leopards and at least a dozen cheetahs.  Though both once shared the reserve, they have since been separated.  Being larger, leopards can easily injure or kill any cheetahs they encounter, and being territorial, they all too often did.  The cheetahs at Okonjima haven’t grown up in the wild, so they’ve never learned how to kill quickly or when to run from other predators.  For their own safety, they are now relegated to their own segment of the reserve.  They will sadly never survive in the wild.

Sustainable travel

This display was in the main lodge. It features carnivores from all around the world and is accompanied by the statement, “In the year 2050, most carnivores will survive only where people choose to tolerate them.”

There are many animal encounters around the world geared toward tourists with only one goal in mind: profits.  Want to ride an elephant?  Want to pet a lion?  Want to pose for a photograph with a cheetah?  You can find establishments that will provide these, but we elect to not support them (and encourage others to do the same).  While they claim the money goes toward caring for and maybe even rehabilitating the animals, they are motivated to retain (or gather more) animals to continue to provide this service.  And training an animal to interact with humans is taming it; it will be unable to return to the wild.

Okonjima has a strict no-interaction policy.  Cats won’t look up at you as you approach, because vehicles don’t mean mealtime.  You can’t pet these felines; they are very much wild animals.  They have been conditioned to not view safari trucks as a threat (though they’ll run from any white vans, as those contain veterinarians!), but they still hunt on their own and could potentially be released into safer lands.

The education they provide is a sustainable approach to an ongoing problem, and we hope to see these carnivores no longer threatened by humans in the future.  If you like the sound of their mission as much as we do, you can donate to their cause here.

The lodge

As this was an unplanned detour, we didn’t have many options as far as where we slept.  Okonjima does have a few campsites, but these were full when we arrived.  That meant we had to pay for a (rather expensive) room.  We still got the least expensive room available (a Garden Room in the Plains Camp), but it blew the budget for that day, for sure.

We also considered staying at a campsite just outside the park.  However, safaris are only available to those who stay on the reserve.  I was there for cats, so we bit the bullet.

With the steep price tag comes a luxurious accommodation.  For the first time in weeks, we had our own private bathroom with hot running water and fresh towels, and we had a real bed.  Note that we had been camping on top of our truck until this point.  Even our room key was in the shape of a sprinting cheetah!

The night’s stay also came with a three-course dinner and a fully-equipped breakfast the next morning.  For dinner, we were treated to a carpaccio atop fresh greens, an oryx steak with rice (tasted very much like a top-quality beef steak), and a fried pudding for dessert.  My mouth is watering just thinking about it!  In the morning, we each ordered custom omelettes in addition to our buffet of fruits and cold cuts.

We barely spent any time in our room, but it was a great relief to have that place to truly freshen up.  And the meals were heavenly – far better than the cans of Koo Chakalaka over rice that we’d been consuming every day thus far.

The cats

But I was there for the CATS!  I could have slept on rocks and I’d still be happy if I got to see some big cats!

Excursions are an additional cost beyond the rooms.  Each would run us about $100 for the two of us, but we knew that going in, and we weren’t about to turn back now!  Not knowing whether we’d have better luck at sightings in the evening or morning, we weren’t sure which to choose.  We finally elected to go on a leopard safari (“nature game drive, looking for leopard”) that evening, with an option to see the cheetahs (“AfriCat Carnivore Care and Information Center”) the next morning.

The leopards

We set out with our guide, Gideon, where we would track Lila.  Each of the resident leopards have radio collars.  This allows the researchers with AfriCat to monitor the cats and their movements, behaviors, and established territories.  Unfortunately, these only have a range of 2km.

When we first set out, we couldn’t get a signal on Lila.  She holds a vast territory in the park, so we had some searching to do.  We drove over the rugged terrain, and Gideon stopped periodically to hold up the ancient receiver, hoping for a faint blip.  Nothing.

Vamos

Gideon changed frequencies to check for one of her (older) cubs: Vamos.  Still nothing.

We wandered the area for a while without luck (though we saw other animals – like jackals and warthogs), and I was beginning to fear we’d strike out.  Gideon kept trying for both leopards to see if we could catch a trace of either one.

Finally, we got something – Vamos.  Driving through the thick brush, we found her hiding spot.  One of our safarimates exclaimed, “there she is!” but I couldn’t see her.  Aaron spotted a paw, and I saw a hint of movement – no clear sighting.  Gideon moved the truck around for a better view, but by then she was moving away and out of our reach.

Rats.

Lila

So we resumed our pursuit of Lila.  Just as we were about to give up on her, we finally got a signal – on the far edge of her territory.  Following the beeps, we pulled up alongside her… at least where we assumed she was.  No roads led toward the signal, and no matter how we positioned the vehicle, we just couldn’t see Lila anywhere.  She could see us, I’m sure.  And I have no doubt she was laughing at us.  But we wouldn’t see her that day; she made sure of it.

Strike two.

The evening was getting late, and we were nearing the end of our allotted time.  Even after so many days of trying, after going to a dedicated cat reserve and paying for a safari.. I still wouldn’t see a cat??

Amali

Gideon could hear the chatter of the other trucks out that night, and one of the others had located the leopard they were tracking: Amali.  So as a last-ditch effort, we’d go to their location to see if we could see her.

Please let me see a leopard.  Please let me see a leopard…

And then there she was.  Just sitting right in the middle of the road!  No more tracking, no brief half-glimpses through the vegetation, no fleeting tail tip.

There she was.  Amali.  In all her splendor.

I had my camera on her immediately.  The other truck was still there, watching her from the side as we approached.  They soon left, leaving us alone with this beautiful, beautiful creature.

I couldn’t get enough of her.  And she couldn’t care less about us.

She walked right next to our truck.  She scratched at some bushes and marked her territory.  She pooped in the middle of the road.  She lounged on the side and silently regarded us.

All the while, my shutter clicked.  I took well over 200 photos of her.

I finally got my African cat.  I was on cloud nine.  It was exactly what I wanted, and I couldn’t be happier.  I was sad to leave her.

Sundowner

Though we were late in leaving Amali, we still stopped for our “sundowner” – cocktails meant to be enjoyed while watching the sunset (we missed it – for a very good reason!).  We watched the stars start to come out in the darkness left behind the one that had just departed while we got to know each other a little bit.

The desert gets chilly really quickly, but Gideon had some blankets on-hand for the dark and rough drive back.  Though he searched the brush with a red light for more wildlife, we didn’t see anything more.  I didn’t need to.

I learned later that two of the eight vehicles that went out that night didn’t see anything.  One other was with us with Amali, but I’m not sure how much the other four saw.  I think we lucked out with the best encounter.  I was (and still am) very grateful for how things worked out.

AfriCat

The next morning, we regrouped with our same companions and guide to visit AfriCat, learn more about their mission, and see the cheetahs.  We had kept the cheetahs as a backup option in case we didn’t see any leopards, as this was (pretty much) a guarantee.  For their protection, the cheetahs are kept in captivity, so there was no need to track them this time.  Though we were successful in spotting leopards (see what I did there?) the night before, I wasn’t going to refuse an opportunity for more big cats.

I’d heard of AfriCat before, it was interesting to hear about their history and work.  We saw the facilities they use for veterinary work (there’s a full-time vet on-site) and full-sized models of the most common African animals (used in their education programs).  We learned they use trap boxes and tranquilizer darts to check up on and collar the cats, and that they use radio collars because GPS is simply too expensive.  It was all quite informative.

Then we got to see the cheetahs!

The cheetahs

Their enclosure is still large enough to drive into, so we weren’t just browsing cages, as I had initially feared.  We were able to get close to them, admire them, and laugh at their antics.

Sam, a young male cheetah, was playing with a phantom when we first arrived.  Pouncing and dashing in crazy circles, he looked just like a house cat.  Imagine a big wild cat acting just like a kitten!  In fact, he was so focused on something no one else could see that we inadvertently spooked him when we drove closer.  He dashed right up a tree!

When we were done laughing at Sam, we admired a few of the others lounging about.  In particular, I took a fancy to Tuck.  I couldn’t get over the fact that he had his paws crossed, a position our kitty Mochi particularly loves!

Was it worth it?

So we drove 8 hours out of our way to get to Okonjima, and we spent five times our daily budget for less than 24 hours there.  Was it worth it?

YES!

I finally saw my cats!  Granted, we had some luck on our side.  We could have been one of those two trucks who struck out, and perhaps I’d be singing a different tune now.  But given our experience – the room; the food; the enlightening visit to AfriCat; and above all, the cats – it’s sitting right up there among my favorite experiences from Namibia.

I only wish we had looked into it sooner so we didn’t have to backtrack quite so much, and if only we could have afforded to stay longer.

Do you have aspirations of visiting Africa?  Have you already been?  What’s the one African animal you’d most want to see?

Note: We were not sponsored in any way by either Okonjima or AfriCat.  We legitimately had an amazing experience, believe in their mission, and encourage others to support them by visiting or donating to their cause.

If you like this post, please help us grow by liking it and sharing it on social media.  We also welcome your comments below – we would love to hear from you!

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In search of big cats in #Africa, we made our way to the #OkonjimaNatureReserve. Read all about our experience here! #bigcats #africansafari #travel After six days in Etosha National Park, we failed to spot any big cats - and this was what I had dreamt about when envisioning an African safari! 

[thezerolevel]

Cheapskate Reviews Sabaka

Movie producers noticed that there was a market for displaying exotic parts of the world on film, but they also noticed that this market wasn’t quite big enough to run straight-up travelogues in theaters. So they filmed a bunch of second-unit material in foreign locales, added stories featuring actors in Los Angeles, and shipped the films out in the hopes of capturing both the gawkers and the story-lovers. Sabaka (which is Russian for “dog” by the way) was just such a film, and its credits proclaim it to be made with the cooperation of the Maharaja of Mysore.

The first credit is “Introducing Nino Marcel as Gunga Ram.” Marcel stopped acting shortly after this film was released. (Why, yes, you could argue that he stopped acting well before he appeared in this film.) Second-billed is Boris Karloff, with a huge mustache. The only Indian names in the credits are Dakshinamurti, the musical director, and K.K. Sinha, the choreographer. The film starts with a shot of a Karnatakan temple, then goes to our hero, peeling a banana and speaking directly to the camera, with a voice more than a little reminiscent of Burt Ward.

GUNGA RAM: I am Gunga Ram. I live in India, a beautiful land of many, many people.

Did I get a children’s movie by mistake? Anyhow, Indians are all rich in culture which he demonstrates by pointing to a completely different shot of people getting coconuts blessed by the priests.

Gunga Ram introduces himself. “Indians, Italians, you’re all just ethics to me.”—casting director, probably

Gunga Ram is a professional elephant trainer (a mahout, which I was surprised to see in my spellcheck dictionary). Another mahout rolls in and tells a long story about how another elephant gave birth, then died in the jungle—then pulls a knife on Gunga Ram and says he can’t tell the Maharajah or else. This information was all completely volunteered by the other dude, by the way, and he probably could’ve just kept his mouth shut if he was concerned about the information leaking.

Gunga Ram and yet another dude (whose name might be Akbar, I can’t tell from the muddy audio) go into the jungle to look for the missing calf.

SIDEKICK: Why don’t you go up [this tree]? Maybe you can see her. *THREE FULL SECONDS OF SILENCE FOR NO PARTICULAR REASON* GUNGA RAM: Good idea!

It was a good idea indeed because he looks out into the only clearing in the whole damn jungle and spots the calf.

First Other Guy, whose name is Koobah, gets chewed out by the Maharaja for breaking the rules, but is afraid to get fired because he doesn’t want to go back to his home village. The Maharaja is played by the man with the least Indian name ever, Lou Krugman, and is dressed like he ought to be reading fortunes at a dingy county fair. Koobah pulls rank, claiming that because he worships the fire demon Sabaka, the Maharaja will be subject to fiery wrath if he gives Koobah the boot. The Maharaja isn’t impressed, but Koobah starts blathering about the terrifying ceremonies of the high priestess. (Which they can’t afford to show us.)

;The Maharaja. Doody-doody-doo! Doody-doody-doody-doody-doo!

The Maharaja isn’t buying it. There’s no such thing as a fire demon called Sabaka. The scene just kinda peters out, and then it’s back to Gunga Ram, who pays a visit to the Maharaja. Gunga Ram says he’s brought a lady for him to dine with.

Can you guess who the lady is? I’ll give you a hint. It’s going to be totally wacky.

Why yes, it is the elephant calf. How did you guess? The elephant really unhappy to be here: it’s shaking like crazy.

MAHARAJAH: Oh, Gunga, you would have a joke with me, eh? GUNGA RAM: It is good for you to laugh, Excellency.

The Maharajah says that he’s fired Koobah. I guess that just wasn’t worth showing us.

Next scene kicks off in the boonies, featuring a kookaburra call. Perhaps the Maharaja is importing Australian birds for his menagerie. A couple traveling home via oxcart is dismayed to see some dudes with torches approaching their house. The torch dudes are Sabaka cultists and they’re very nonchalantly setting fire to the couple’s house because the couple didn’t pay the divine protection rupees. The husband, who is rolling his “r”s because he’s playing a foreigner or something, sends his wife and kid to town to meet Gunga Ram, because “he’ll know what to do.”

This is a curious assertion. At this point in the film, it’s been established that Gunga Ram is your go-to guy for elephant-related problems, but we don’t know anything about his relationship to the fire cultists. In fact, nobody’s even said the word “Sabaka” in any scene where Gunga Ram was present. Is Gunga Ram going to use elephants to put out the fire? Or will Gunga Ram stampede some elephants into the cult compound?

Husband confronts Arsonist #1 while completely losing sight of Arsonist #2, who strides conspicuously through a clearing and bonks Husband on the head. They set fire to his wagon, too, just to rub salt in his wounds. Fleeing wife stops to climb a tree and chill out with some monkeys. To be fair, the monkeys probably know about as much about this cult as Gunga Ram does. She drops off the very, very, very white baby in the monkey tree, where it’s subject to an approaching tiger. But after about a minute, the tiger gets bored and wanders away. Who needs payoffs?

“Save my baby from the fire and the tiger and the monkeys and the cult! Maybe use elephants or something!

The lady makes it to Gunga Ram, who’s now quite unhappy because the whole jungle has caught fire. Then, some nature footage. Bats fly around. A herd of deer gallops off. Leopards eat dogs. Mass hysteria (except for the kookaburras, who continue crying as if they’re in no danger, which they aren’t on account of living in Australia).

The next several minutes of animals running about with no fire in sight will be of great interest to you if you’re a leopard. It will be of some interest to you if you live in the world before the invention of the National Geographic Channel. Otherwise, I suspect you’ll be bored to tears. The fire is only near the tree where the baby is hiding, and Gunga Ram arrives on his elephant—named Kina, or possibly Tina—to rescue the kid. I’m starting to get the impression that neither the child nor its parents will factor into the rest of the film at all and this whole sequence was a colossal waste of time. (Spoiler alert: Right as usual.) I’m also starting to get the impression that every zoo should give its elephants rad 80s names.

After some elephants go for a swim, Gunga Ram and the Maharaja (dressed in a Napoleonic overcoat) go out to inspect the fire damage with the young family. You would think the Maharaja would have people for that. He’s also ready to show the audience that inside every foreigner is a little American, just waiting to get out:

MAHARAJA: I have been to a land where there is no difference in caste, and toward that end, I will work here in India.

Abdication doesn’t seem to be in the cards, though. There’s a gruesome shot of a flaming deer corpse as the Maharaja mourns the death of his animals, and then… the scene ends. I was really expecting the Maharaja to get clued in on the fire cult here and assign Gunga Ram to infiltrate and destroy them: it’s the most natural storyline development. Alas, no such luck, as we fade out and then in on a snake charmer.

The next scene is the Maharaja and Boris Karloff, who’s playing a military officer who had never heard of Sabaka. The Maharaja wants a fire cult investigation, but Karloff complains that the boy (Gunga Ram?) let his tiger run loose in the streets. They strike a deal: Gunga Ram gets rid of Taku the tiger and Karloff will deal with the cultists. The Maharaja explains to Gunga Ram that he has “enough trouble with these fire demon worshipers” and that Gunga Ram ought to let Taku live in the jungle. Do you think we’ll get a payoff for the whole tiger business?

Karloff is wasted in any role in which he doesn’t get to say “laboratory.”

In the village, Gunga Ram drops in on his brothers and his sister Indira, played by future TV news anchor Lisa Howard. Gunga Ram’s brother-in-law Kumar flips out and changes the subject as soon as Gunga Ram mentions the fire demons, instead preferring to talk about how Kumar’s going to be a father. The baby’s going to be named after Gunga Ram… if Indira gets her way. Anyhow, as soon as Gunga Ram leaves, Kumar reveals that he’s doing his own investigation into the “fire demon worshipers.” (Nobody’s going to call them the Cult of Sabaka?) He doesn’t notice the guy in the striped turban standing not five feet away, in plain sight, overhearing the whole damn thing. (The guy in the striped turban is never a good guy.)

Cut to Kumar in chains in a cave somewhere. The director must have figured that no chase and capture scene could possibly live up to the adrenaline rush that was animals running, so he didn’t bother to film one. Striped turban guy, Ashok, gives the order to burn Kumar’s house, with his wife inside, but the high priestess, Marku, objects in a voice that’s going to sound awfully familiar. Marku is played by June Foray.

Yes, the June Foray who voiced Granny of Looney Tunes fame, Rocky the Flying Squirrel, Cindy Lou Who, Aunt May,  Jokey Smurf, Magica De Spell, and about a zillion other characters (although IMDB insists that she’s best known for voicing Grammi Gummi on the Gummy Bears), and who is still alive and working at age ninety-nine. That June Foray.

When you’re under five feet tall, as Foray is, you’ve got to use your face and your voice to intimidate.

Marku vetos the burning on practical grounds.

MARKU: If this woman burns, the military will do more than ask questions.

But Ashok points out that the collection plates at the services have been a little light recently.

ASHOK: Burn a few of them, and the rest will come crawling.

Ashok’s getting restless and wants something a little more grandiose than Marku’s plan to put up an idol in the jungle. Marku lures him over to a bench near a snake and feigns interest in his plan for world conquest right until a cobra bites him in the ass. Now, I’d rather see Marku than Ashok as the villain in this piece because, c’mon, June Foray, but am I supposed to be alarmed that the moderate just triumphed over the extremist?

Indira’s all tied up now as cultists set fire to her house. They must’ve not gotten the message that Ashok died. The villagers run off and we fade back to Marku preparing to burn Kumar. The fade implies the passage of time, which leads me to believe that Indira has just roasted to death.

The next day, the Maharajah tries to comfort Gunga Ram. I’m surprised he has so much free time to spend with a mere elephant trainer. Maybe he’s the Maharaja of a state about the size of San Marino. He wants Gunga Ram to “work this terrible thing from [his] mind” by painting some elephants for a ceremony. Very therapeutic, I’m sure.

The day after that, Gunga Ram spots a dude who fled the village when it caught fire. This guy told the military that he didn’t see anything because it was too dark, but Gunga Ram, expert interrogator, has a hunch that a burning torch would emit sufficient light to let you get a good look at a person. The guy continues to be evasive until Gunga Ram makes up a story about the soldiers being mean to him, which gets the guy to slip and admit that he said nothing because he was afraid of reprisals. That’s enough to get them to work out a deal: the guy will point to the killers when they show up in the crowd at the festival.

Karloff is complaining to the Maharaja that Gunga Ram shouldn’t have pestered his men with his silly demands for investigation. When the Maharaja asks why Gunga Ram got anywhere near the barracks, Karloff says it’s because he’s a royal favorite. Which is true.

MAHARAJA: I suppose I have become too fond of the boy.

Karloff is now in charge of preventing Gunga Ram from launching his own investigation.

Elephant painting! It’s just painting, but with elephants! Some of the people doing the painting are actual Indians, which makes our cast look even more out of place. Elephant parades, military parades, cannons, etc. etc., ensue. Parades are kinda fun in person, sort of, if you’re a kid and the people marching in them throw candy. But movies take away the energy of a live crowd, and are therefore totally unsuitable for making parades look fun.

This is the first screen shot I’ve shown you that was actually filmed in India.

Eventually, the Maharaja gets up and waves his hands to start the band and… bring in even more elephants on parade, this time with Indian music rather than Western marching tunes. The Maharaja throws around some garlic cloves and watches the elephants go by. This is great and all (except for the occasional shot where the camera isn’t quite level) but I’d kinda like to get back to the plot now.

The one dude is now in the crowd, or rather, standing alone on a dark set even though it’s broad daylight and the place is full of people, waiting for the culprit to pass by. The parade continues unimpeded. How much time has passed? An hour? A year? I look in the mirror and see that my hair has gone gray. It seems to take even more time because the filmmakers stop cutting between shots of animals in gaudy outfits and start *dissolving* between shots of animals in gaudy outfits—remember, a dissolve is a cinematic shorthand for “time passes.”

Sometime after the sun becomes a red giant and swallows the earth, Gunga Ram catches up with the one dude, who points out the cultists. Gunga Ram and two guys we’ve never seen before going to Marku and her flunky and accuse them of murder:

GUNGA RAM: The point of my knife will make you speak!

Marku, in her oiliest possible voice, suggests that it’s more than a little uncouth to go around speaking of murder at a sacred ceremony, and proposes that the military ought to resolve this whole thing tomorrow. That’s not going to cut it for Gunga Ram, who insists that they come to the stables. Marku is OK with this.

The next scene starts with gripping drama as Boris Karloff breaks out his mad scientist voice and interrogates the strong-willed Marku. No, just kidding! It’s more of the goddamn parade.

The sun sets, the sun rises, and we’re off to the palace, where Gunga Ram reports that he’s arrested Marku and her flunky. Karloff is there to complain that Gunga Ram couldn’t have possibly captured the arsonists because Karloff couldn’t do it. The Maharajah isn’t having any of Gunga Ram’s vigilante justice and has Karloff keep a watch on Gunga Ram while the Maharajah meets with the prisoners.

Marku claims she’s never heard of a fire demon, and when someone points out that her friends carry flaming swords, she unleashes a really terrific evil laugh. You see, it’s just a part of their sword-swallowing act.

Fade to Karloff and Gunga Ram arguing over who’s a better investigator. Then fade right back to Marku and her minion, gloating over their successful release from custody. Then after one line, fade right back to Karloff and Gunga Ram, now accompanied by the Maharajah, chewing out Gunga Ram. For the crime of false imprisonment, he’ll be stripped of his elephant-related duties and sent to work in the kitchen—his elephant will be sent off to the elephant market. This new job is a lot less dangerous than his old one and involves a lot less elephant poop, but Gunga Ram is nonetheless disturbed.

Gunga Ram, demoted, descends the palace steps. Points to the cinematographer for sneaking one atmospheric shot into this film.

Time passes, and Gunga Ram is now serving drinks to the Maharajah, who seems to want to tell him something.

MAHARAJA: Gunga… uh, um… how do you like… uh… nothing, you may go.

Are you shipping them now? (If so, stop that.) Gunga Ram wants to ride his old elephant to the market to teach the new rider what to do, but the Maharajah isn’t okay with this. Then, about five seconds later, he changes his mind and decides to allow Gunga Ram one last elephant ride.

The great elephant caravan features elephants carrying logs because that’s neat, isn’t it? Also, for once, no kookaburra. There are now seventeen minutes left in the film and I haven’t the slightest idea how they’re going to resolve the fire demon plot, or whether it’s going to be resolved at all.

The elephants bathe in the river as Gunga Ram ponders his situation. It turns out that the guy bathing the elephant is Koobah.

GUNGA RAM: I’d forgotten all about him! CHEAPSKATE: Me too.

The new plan is to sneak along with the elephant parade to Koobah’s hometown, where he can get some real answers. The climax (which, as usual, I don’t spoil) is full of the same damned nature footage, plus an uncomfortable scene of a guy mistreating an animal.

You’ll remember that the Maharaja of Mysore funded this film. Do you think he knew? Do you think the Hollywood guys were honest with him and told him that they’d just be using India footage as interminable b-roll? Or do you think they tried to hustle him with a promise that he’d come to Los Angeles when Sabaka got an Oscar nomination? Based on my interactions with film marketing, I’m leaning towards the latter.

The Good: India is pretty, I guess. June Foray is really quite good at playing an evil priestess, despite her small size.

The Bad: The real purpose of the movie—looking at a faraway land—has been completely superseded by the National Geographic Channel. Boris Karloff has nothing to do. The plot lurches forward in fits and starts. Nino Marcel is so blandly earnest that he makes Sam Jones in Flash Gordon look like Christopher Walken.

Watch It If: You’re a sociologist writing about Western views of India in the mid-20th century.

Cheapskate Reviews Sabaka was originally published on Channel Zero - Home of The Zero Level!