It must be the Anthropologist in me but I always get into conversations with the boys on various cultural beliefs. This is a clip from one of the trackers in Zimbabwe telling me about the tikoloshe. They really believe that these demons exist.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7HWCr6TZHQY

Excellent. Experiencing the culture is one of the highlights of trips to Africa for me. Here is an excerpt from a hunt report I did a while back regarding another bush belief:

"One of the great things about hunting in Africa is experiencing the local lore and customs. One afternoon we drove past a tree with a large buzzard that had died in the top of the tree (how it died I have no clue). The sight of the buzzard immediately evoked a chatter on the back of the Crusier. I asked Buzz what was up."

"Buzz explained that in the Shona culture, having a buzzard head is strong muti. The belief is that if you sleep with a buzzard head under your pillow you will have the power of visions. These visions will ensure that you and your family never go hungry. This is because the buzzard always finds a meal in the bush and they never go hungry."

"The next day we paused on the road and allowed Criton time to climb the tree and retrieve the buzzard. Criton then cut off its head and took it with him."

"Who am I to question the traditions and beliefs of a culture that has survived for centuries in the bush. I hope that the muti keeps Criton and his family well."

I believe. Hilary?

I have heard lots of stories that seem to reinforce African superstitions. I only have one such story but it still has me scratching my head. From my hunt in Cameroon in 2011:

Snakes, Witches & Whirlwinds
The day of December 28th had started with an early and easy warthog kill, but it would turn out to be a very, very long day. After killing the warthog they guys butchered it into about 7 pieces and hung it in a tree. We continued on and cut a path directly to the north looking for signs of poachers. After about five hours we began to veer towards the main road that leads to camp.

The sun was directly overhead and it had become a foot slogging march. As we neared a knoll a huge whirlwind kicked up about two hundred yards away. Because the area had been recently burned all the trees had dropped their leaves. I watched in awe as the whirlwind was carried the leaves hundreds of feet into the air.

The small tornado gained strength and spun past us only 50 yards away. I looked over to the other guys in wide-eyed amazement. I can only describe the look of distress on Enis’s face as being pure dread.

I asked Remy what the problem was. He said there are a lot of “beliefs” in their culture surrounding whirlwinds. He didn’t seem to want to elaborate and I didn’t push it. It was clear that Enis regarded it as a bad omen.

I quietly fell in line behind Remy and we marched off with Enis in the rear. They were in a hurry to leave the scene and I was thinking how silly superstitions can be. We had walked about 50 yards over the freshly burned worm-mounds when something just off the trail caught my eye.

I hit full idiot mode as I swung wide, pointing and exclaiming, “Ehh! Ehh! Ehh! Enis looked in the direction I was pointing then looked at me as though I had gone mad. He must have still had some faith left in me because he swung even wider and got behind me.

We could both now see the slender, tan colored snake coiled just two yards off the trail. His head was raised and he was frozen at the base of a small tree. In his position we could not see him from the trail until we had walked past the tree.

Standing there on the scorched earth looking at this snake, thinking of all the hours I had spent stumbling through grass so thick that I couldn’t see anything below my knees, I felt as though a ghost had kissed me on the neck.

I asked if the snake was poisonous and from about 15 feet behind me Remy assured me that it was. I asked if we should kill it and Remy and Enis nodded emphatically, but Remy said that he was worried that his rice loaded shotgun might not be up to the task. I told them that I could shoot it with the 375. I was surprised when Remy asked me if I could really kill it with the rifle. Hadn’t I been impressing these guys with my fine shooting for the past week?

Enis and Remy stood well behind me ready to run. I took aim(really, really careful aim) at the top of the top coil as I figured the bullet would hit about half an inch low at the distance(10 yards). I fired and the snake bounced and writhed nearly shot in half.

As we moved in the snake turned and began to bite on the tail side of the wound(I remember his mouth was pink). After a minute the front half of the snake turned belly up and I got out my camera. I half jokingly asked if anyone wanted to grab the tail to stretch the snake out for a photo.

Enis(the guy who when sissy at the sight of the whirlwind) marched right in and grabbed the tail that sat motionless about 4 inches away from the head. As soon as he grabbed the tail the dead snake came back to life and the front half turned right side up and started to slither. Who says snakes aren’t sneaky?

At this point I was ready to give up on the photo-op and run away like a schoolgirl. Luckily Remy picked up a small, flimsy stick and moved in for the kill. I began to unpack my two(yes, two) snakebite kits. After about a dozen swings Remy was able to get his willow branch to come down on the head just right and we had a dead snake.

I took three quick photos and we got the hell out of there.

I didn’t see any more snakes for the rest of the trip, but for the remainder of that day my mind placed a snake at the base of every single tree I walked past. Talk about a long day!

I told Remy and Enis that I felt guilty for breaking my “live and let live” snake policy, but they were sure that we had done a good deed as that snake was sure to populate the entire countryside with vicious killer snakes. Through research after returning home I have found that the snake I killed was a Jameson’s Mamba.

Thanks for sharing your interview.

Learning more of various cultures is always enlightening.

http://www.zimeye.com/gokwe-pa...anda-catches-goblin/

This story from 2012.

Mexican laborers are just as "sold" on milk-drinking snakes, superstitions about church saints, the chupacabra, etc. Go along to get along would have its limits for me. Acceding to demands the rifles used on safari be blessed by a sangoma goes against MY beliefs. There are good reasons people believe what they do. In the case of Africa, the demon world is very much close to the surface.