Trudging after  AC troop for the last few days, I have learned that primate children, regardless of species, are wired to throw fits.  For the last three days, sweating and tired I have had to listen to Ukita, a tiny little punk of a baboon, scream and whine and carry on while his mom stares placidly into the distance.  See, Ukita wants to nurse.  His mom, however, is quite done with this whole nursing thing (possibly because she’s contemplating putting another bun in the oven).  So, Ukita trails after her doing a long, low groan that is punctuated with loud, ear-piercing screams.  He sounds as if he is being torn apart by a leopard or a particularly angry bush pig.  His poor mother mostly ignores him.  Brat.

Amongst the juveniles, though, I have found a friend.  A young female by the name of Unarasika has routinely seen me and then approached, swinging around at the last moment to present me her fine young rump.  Now, females do this to everyone, not just males they fancy.  You can think of it as a dominance thing and she’s bowing down to my superior strength.  Occasionally, she lifts her back left foot — a gesture I have yet to understand — as she looks back at me, waiting for me to grip her hips and smack my lips quickly and, honestly, quite creepily.  I am forbidden to this, of course.  So, I mostly just stare at her smiling, a mixed signal, as, in baboon, showing your teeth like this indicates fear.  Another young female, Usambura, went so far as to pat my leg yesterday.  She did it tentatively, like a seven-year old poking a snake with a stick, looking at me all the while, before running off gleefully to giggle with her playmates, no doubt.