6 Weeks of Hell- Part 1

I will never forget the look on my team mates faces when I arrived on site. Questioned as to what role I played at the company and what I was doing there , it was actually laughable to see the disbelief that I would become part of their squad. From the all the 'manliness' around I could see I would really have to prove myself. Oh how exciting.

As if saved be the bell from the intense looks I was getting I was called to my tent where luckily I was to sleep on my own while the men all slept together and instructed to throw everything out of my pack back. This instructor, a girl of only 17 who was soon to become one of the few people in this world I honestly can say I really don't like. She confiscated everything that would make you feel slightly womanly, my shampoo and conditioner which was scent free as instructed, my body lotion and any other girl products which were also scent free and even my razor blades... I really don't mind them taking all my snacks and sweets and all the other extras you prepared yourself with but razor blades really... Come on girl, isn't being neatly presented one of the basic rules of security personnel and how on earth are my smooth legs going to inhibit me from catching Poachers??

The exact problem with my industry... either you must actually be a man or if not look like a man and if you don't look like a man at least act like a man but don't you dare be attractive and well maintained it will just bring the whole system crumbling and criminals will begin to rule the world... 🙄🙄🙄

Girls just a side note: Always get a uniform one size bigger. I really did not want to have a body fitting uniform when embarking 6 weeks into the bush with a bunch of men you don't know so got a size bigger which actually ended up being 2 sizes bigger because Ah Ha they don't make woman's anti-poaching uniforms. This absolutely saved me in the long run because I was able to wear at least 2 jerseys and 3 pants under my uniform and in the freezing cold sexy doesn't matter I promise.

We only ever spent about 4 nights at the base camp the rest of the time we were out in the field sleeping under the stars or our Bivins in absolutely freezing weather. ver

The days were filled with death marches(hikes with your full kit and camping items over the most unforgiving terrain basically until you drop dead) or running up and down mountains. In between we were taught the art of man tracking, tactical manoeuvres and shooting of all weapons platforms. While all of these wonderful kilometres were being drilled into my legs my what were admittedly very old hiking shoes had lost their soul... sole. I was left with only a cheap really painful pair of Mr Price running shoes to accompany my little feet on this epic journey.

After about 1 week in these little takkies I had blisters on every inch and curve of my feet and I was now permanently running with sand in the bottom of my shoes. But I would not complain, as at this point two men had rung the bell and quit while others were threatening. So there was no chance as now one of the strongest members of the team(thank the heavens for all those years cross country running)that I would mention to anyone the real pain going on. So it was a relief when after so many of the other team members had complain about blisters and busted ankles that the Head Instructor offered medical assistance to anyone who needed it. While sitting watching and chatting the instructor looked at my broken shoes and demanded to see my feet; with some resistance I gave in and I clearly remember everyone jaws hitting the floor when they sore the blood and lose skin. I believe I also saw a little bit of anger flash through some of their eyes as their blisters were really quite nothing in comparison. Admittedly I did take a few plasters to help but refused anything else and left. If they didn't respect me before they certainly did now even if every step of their respect hurt a lot.

Part 2 next :)

6 weeks of Hell Part 1