A little context

This blog is a compilation of short travel stories from a mom-son trip Desmond (6) and I took to Zambia. We went to visit Christie and Craig, some of the best people in the world and longtime friends who live and work in Lusaka with their one and four year old girls. 

The posts are from emails I sent to Jeremy while Dez and I were traveling. They were detailed updates so that he would know what we were up to since he was back in the States with Josie (3), and I decided to post them on a blog after I realized I didn't have time to give full recaps in person or by phone to everyone.

To read the posts in order (from "And We're Off" and Day 1 through Day 11), click on the list of posts from September in the right hand column on most computer screens. Otherwise you'll be reading backwards from Day 11 to Day 1 and things won't make much sense :)

Departing (Day 11)

It hints at how tiring the trip was at times to note that it was actually 14 days, but the first three just involved getting to Zambia between time changes, layovers and 23 hours in the air (leaving at 4:30pm on a Wed and arriving at 2:30 on Fri). We rounded out our final day of the trip with a bang, walking to the weekly produce market with Beauty and Craig, picking Lilah up from her beautiful school, having a hand drumming lesson for Dez with a drum master, bringing Lilah to ballet class, going to the craft market, and going to the reptile park (which had a mini-golf course and playground, of course) to see poisonous snakes on the way to the airport for a 9:30pm flight.

Our final experience of the trip were the 23 hours of flight time, of which we both slept two hours. The return started with somewhat of a free for all approach to boarding the plane in Lusaka, which was slowed only by watching an empty-handed, healthy-appearing man have his wife, draped fully with only her eyes showing in her hijab, heft their suitcase up the long boarding staircase as the men in line behind them stood helplessly, not sure if they could ask to help. If anything I have a history of being overly culturally sensitive and accepting, but even I was having a hard time coming up with how that dynamic made sense. Admittedly I have become more traditional about having men heft luggage as I've gotten older, so in my 20's I might have thought this female-hefting was a sign of empowerment. The benefit of marrying a rafting guide is not only is he used to being a sherpa, it actually makes him feel nostalgic for his early 20's guide-lifestyle, so I let him carry around heavy loads whenever possible to let him reminisce. It took awhile to break me into this because when we met I was in the habit of carrying four pairs of skiis and a boot bag comfortably, but after 11 years of marriage I can say my back has never felt better. I am fairly certain Jeremy would have to have no arms and just one leg before he would stand for being empty handed while I lugged a suitcase onto an airplane.

Emirates as an airline was great, and a huge perk of flying with them is the camera they have mounted beneath their largest planes. It streams live images of the ground over which you're flying, and as we skirted beside the North Pole and over Greenland I sat mesmerized by the screen with my mouth literally open in amazement. The terrain was a mix of snow and ice with brown land visible in parts, especially in the creases and fingers of hilly and mountainy areas. The most astounding part, to me, was the presence of lakes amidst this amazing landscape, and I realized flying over it that it very likely will be the only time I see it with my own eye. As a result I alternated between looking at the streamed images on my screen and looking directly out the window trying to soak it in.

The other spots that stood out were the Caspian Sea and its shoreline and Montana and its lakes and mountains. Dubai was notable for its McPalaces (as opposed to the McMansions we've seen crop up in the U.S., which seem similar in their attempts to maximize the grandeur to lot size ratio) and its transition from urban sprawl to desolate desert. Much of Europe and Russia when I looked was covered with clouds unfortunately...can you tell we inexplicably didn't sleep during the flights?

After 26 hours we walked through the customs arrival doors at SFO and Josie screamed, dropped the stickers and crayon she was holding, and bolted under a rope to crash into me yelling, "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!" It was the most enthusiastic and adorable greeting I've ever gotten and she snuggled down on my shoulder like a puzzle piece that was missing. And then she asked when I was taking her to Africa....

Turn up the bass (Day 10)

This is the second African country I've visited. The first was Cameroon in 1998, pushing on toward 20 years ago. Cameroon is in West Africa and Zambia is in Southeastern Africa. Africa as a continent (particularly West and South Africa) has an incredibly rich culture of music and rhythms. Africa also has (judging by my extensive travels on the land mass as detailed above) incredibly terrible taste in imported music. Not only is absolutely horrible music from abroad played, but it is played at horrendously loud volumes. In Cameroon, the family I lived with got a hold of a Mariah Carey CD and played it more or less continuously on high volume from dawn to the wee hours of the next day. The tape and tape deck got about a three hour rest period before it was fired up again. (I didn't sleep much there either.)

In Zambia, I've had glimpses of the same poor taste in music (refer back to the hip hop music at full volume at the zoo), but I only fully grasped the extent of the problem this afternoon when we went visited Lilah and Millie's nannies' homes and neighborhood in Lusaka. The two reasons for the visit were for Christie and Craig and the kids to be able to visit Mary and Beauty's homes and be able to spend time with their families again before moving back to the States in December and for Dez to be able to see more of a working class/ poorer area to hopefully start grasping the difference between needs (clean water), wants (a toy), and more than enough ("all my toys are boring").

We turned off the main paved road onto the narrow dirt roads of their neighborhood and drove past the small concrete 1-2 room homes. This is not a destitute neighborhood as many families have at least one wage earner and and most structures even have piped water. Children are clothed, there are some very healthy chickens running around, and while there is a lot trash strewn about, there is no smell of excrement permeating the air as is the case in areas with more food, water, and sanitation shortages. With that said, when it is a six year old's first close glimpse into life in a resource constrained area, it is an assault on the senses.

The biggest assault on the senses as we parked and got out at Mary's house however, even for Dez, was the thumping bass from an inexplicably large sound system and the front yard (dirt area) full of young girls dwarfing Beyoncé's skills with their booty shaking. This is not surprising because JLo and Beyonce likely lifted this style of dance from expert practitioners in Africa, but as uncomfortable as it is to watch grown pop stars do it, it's even worse to watch six and eight year olds. Dez immediately wandered into the yard and perched on a woodpile next to 15-20 kids to watch the spectacle. I immediately started taking pictures, fearing it would end before I had proof.

The fear was unfounded. The dancing, with various combinations of children (occasionally boys, but usually girls, and at one point me and a group of grandmothers), continued throughout the party.

Let me be clear. Before you romanticize this scene by thinking of how vibrant and musically driven other cultures are and how drab the U.S. is, stop yourself. The music came from a large and cranked to full volume stereo in the house. The sterio, a tv, very sparse furniture and a large poster of Jesus Christ were the only things in the house's communal room...making the stereo an income-eating purchase at some point.

In addition, the dancing was not culturally vibrant. It was uncomfortable. The boys were cute, and the older boys did some impressive breakdancing, but the girls commanded the stage most of the time and they were gyrating. The only thing that saved it from seeming completely inappropriate even to watch was the absolute comedic element involved with observing Mary, Lilah's main nanny, beaming proudly and clapping to the beat as her oldest granddaughter put Miley Cyrus and all other sexually explicit U.S. pop artists to shame. Christie and I literally stood with our mouths open as said 12 year old granddaughter, who was the lead dancer in a haphazard group of six girls who actually had some choreographed (or at least synchronized) movements grabbed herself at one point. We assumed it was a Michael Jackson-inspired move until the hand just remained there moving as furiously as the rest of her for the remainder of the performance.

I hope no one read this who will be mortified by that description. It was quite necessary to include for full context.

What happened after this, however, will bring me joy for years to come. And I have it on video, so it can bring all of you joy as well. As Craig said later, "I don't know how much you paid for your plane ticket, but it was absolutely worth it for that video alone."

Once some of the boys about Dezi's age joined the dance party, I asked him if he'd like to go dance with them. He shrugged, feigning disinterest, and stated, "Well, I'd like to do some hip hop, but there's not enough room with all of them dancing right there." I assume you're guessing at the conclusion here, and let me give context that there were 30-40 children and about 15 adults in this yard area. Our dialogue continued like this:
Me: Well, you could go behind them because there's plenty of space there.
Dez: There's no way to get by them.
Me: We could walk right around the gate and come through the back easily.
Dez: Well, no one would even see me dancing back there so what's the point.
Me: I guarantee if you start dancing, they will all turn around. I absolutely promise they will.
Dez: Alright then. If you're really sure.

The sun at this point had lowered in the sky to be casting such beautiful light that even the run down homes, which were not destitute but still easily qualify as impoverished, looked lovely. And I am not joking at all when I say that somehow Dez planted himself in a spot that caused the sunlight to land on his face like a spotlight. And he started to dance. And people started to turn. And for anyone who has not seen him dance, it is impossible to describe. But because I have to try, here is my best shot. He moves with jerks and twerks (not unlike a seizure), shuffling his feet in all directions, pausing for dramatic effect in freeze positions with greater or less frequency depending on the crowds's reaction, and all the while assuming an expression of someone who is utterly convinced they are creating great art. His cousin dances exactly the same way. Therefore, I watch him with enormous love and affection and great relief in knowing that it comes from Jer's side of the family. I have a video of him dancing his heart out in the equivalent of an African village with all eyes on him and it will absolutely be played at his wedding some day.

The issue with this style of dance is that it attracts a lot of attention, and even in the U.S., a very tolerant culture, it can cause adults to erupt with laughter and cheers. I thought (wrongly) that he had noticed this.

By the time he was finished, he had the whole crowd of people around him cheering. He looked happy and pleased and I high fived him. He went back to where he was sitting before, and I took pictures of kids to show them what they looked like and videos of the girls dancing to play back to the great laughter of the kids who would crowd around to watch. Dez was watching and taking it all in until some older boys took to the "stage" and started breakdancing to cheering, I looked over at Dez expecting him to be impressed or amused and he looked back at me with the saddest, most defeated expression that it broke my heart. A couple steps and I was to him, pulling him up on my lap squatting on an old box, and his tears started. I think the full length of the trip and all the senses and experiences he'd taken in during the travels crashed down on him in a moment of sheer exhaustion and disappointment at being upstaged by teenagers. He sobbed out under his breath that none of the kids were paying any attention to him or playing with him and that they'd all just laughed and pointed as he danced.

Which wasn't true because some had simply looked shocked and stood paralyzed.

And this brings us to an important lesson from traveling. While it can expose you to new things, create questions that lead to great introspection and growth, and make you realize that yours is not necessarily the greatest culture in the world, there are also times that you learn things about another culture that you really don't like. And it can make you appreciate home.

In this case, Dez and I agreed that one thing we love about the U.S. is that people tend to be very thoughtful of one another and very sensitive to when someone is sad. We love that kids give each other thumbs up and pats on the back and words of encouragement, and that kids see all other kids as people and think to introduce themselves and ask questions and not just touch their face and hair.

I did try to explain that people weren't laughing to be mean, they were just happy and having fun watching him, and they laughed at others as well. It didn't make it nicer, but it was normal for their culture and not seen as mean, and we agreed we're glad laughing at other people isn't seen as okay in our culture.

We readied to leave soon after, and to their credit and being very sweet Mary, Christie and Beauty got some of the kids to come over and introduce themselves to Dez on the way out, which did help. This small group was much better and it made me wish there was a way to just have him interact with a couple of kids, but the reality is that a little blond attracts a lot of attention in a neighborhood like Mary's, and asking to play with just 1-2 kids is absurd - children tend to arrive in swarms and word travels fast in areas when the competing option for distraction is a worn out ball or tattered wad of newspaper tied with twine being used for soccer. (Dez gave Mary a new soccer ball for her grandkids the day after the party - we'd forgotten to bring it with us when we were leaving for the party, which probably turned out to be good because of the large number of kids there.)

At the end of the day, all culturally-sensitive rationalizations don't change the fact that the kids saw Desmond more as a curiosity than a fellow kid. The interesting outcome was that it made him really appreciative of his good friends from home who operate with his same cultural norms. It's similar to how ex-pats gravitate toward each other in foreign countries. And having buddies like River and Granite who you're so excited  to see when you get home, and saying things like, "Dad and you and me and Josie have to be sure we all stay safe because we're a pretty small family after all and I love you guys a lot," are great messages to come out of an adventure as well.

I parent like an elephant (Days 6-9)

South Luangwa National Park is about a 12 hour drive from Lusaka or an hour flight on a local airline to Mfuwe and then a 1.5 hour jeep ride to the lodge. After planning on the former, last minute fare reductions meant that we ended up flying, which was a fantastic decision from standpoints of both safety and sanity.

Craig and Millie (13 months) stayed in Lusaka and Christie, Dez (6 yrs), Lilah (4 yrs) and I went on a mom-kid trip. It's taken me days to work up the courage to try to capture the four days we spent in the park in writing because it seems an impossible task.

I think that anecdotes will be the only way to describe the experience because lists of animals we saw and strings of adjectives won't come close to reflecting the hue of the afternoon sun or the trills of the bird calls. Plus, Jeremy took Josie went to the San Francisco Zoo while we were gone and a recap of her trip would surely include a long list of animals also and beg the question of why we had to go to Africa to see lions.

Generally guests at the lodge we stayed at do two drives a day - an early morning drive that you're awoken for at 5:30 and a late afternoon drive that starts at 4:00 with beautiful evening light and continues into the pitch dark under headlights. Before leaving the States I heard about the night drives from Christie and assumed we wouldn't be doing them with two small kids. Once we were there however, the confidence of the guides and a sense of wonder at feeling the air rushing by you and hearing sounds much more sharply from having limited sight was too unique to pass up. (Plus, I failed to make a very basic connection involving math, departure times and the time the sun sets and realized as we watched a beautiful sunset over the river on our first afternoon drive that the afternoon drive becomes the night drive, so I agreed to night drives and put my six year old in an open jeep at night looking for lions and leopards stalking prey essentially on accident...see previous email regarding IQ of a squid.)

The following are moments that stood out from all of the wildlife and beauty we saw on our drives:
- A young elephant wandering over to her mother's enormous pile of freshly laid stool and contentedly starting to scoop it up with her trunk and eat it. Our guide, Nicholas, explained that some other animals do this to populate the youths' gut with the mom's intestinal flora, but that he'd never heard of or seen this with elephants. Sure enough, the mother elephant recognized it as weird as well and ambled back over to gently nudge the youth's trunk to discourage the odd behavior. The young elephant, however, simply ignored her and continued happily eating. The mom stood there for a moment a bit helplessly and then clearly decided that she really just didn't care. She went back to eating leaves and the young one finished the entire pile. Which made me smile, realizing that at times this mamma elephant and I have shared parenting styles. I've said no to things only to then regret it and not want to enforce my own red line because I decide that stopping a child from crossing it isn't worth the effort it would take. This parenting style appears about as effective on young elephants as young humans.
- Seeing a herd of 200-300 buffalo returning from a mini-migration and realizing that buffalo have very poor, uncertain footing on uneven surfaces. We watched with binoculars from the porch of the lodge as the herd tried to climb a distant slope. All eventually made it up, but some outright tumbled backwards or sideways back down the slope in their first efforts. I was embarrassed for them - it was not the cape buffalos' proudest moment as a species.
- Watching the herd of buffalo timidly tiptoeing (especially the older, less sure footed ones) across a dried mud field with a very uneven surface from elephants walking there during wetter weather. After watching them tumble down the hill and timidly walk on mud potholes I suddenly understood why lions make buffalo their primary targets. Lots of meat for relatively little effort.
- Having Nicholas redeem the buffalo by saying that hands down they are the most dangerous animal out there and the most feared by the guides due to their lack of a false ("warning") charge and a tendency to charge first and assess if something was actually a threat later. He claimed that hippos have a friendly disposition and are very deadly if you find yourself in their jaws, but it's quite easy to avoid being in said location. And lions and leopards don't seem interested in leaping into jeeps, and elephants give plenty of warning that they are uncomfortable before attacking. (These assessments seemed a bit dubious when he confirmed that, yes, an elephant had indeed attacked another lodge's jeep a few months prior and nearly flipped it, which we asked about because my friend Kim's sister and her family were in the jeep, and that, yes, Nicholas had once had a leopard dart underneath his jeep and sit there out of sight for 20 minutes to the horror of the passengers, who turned out to be a family with whom Christie is good friends. The fact that both incidents involved children in the jeep was just fantastic and made us feel very comfortable.)
- Sipping wine and sitting on a hilltop watching the sunset with the South African family one evening, only to miss the actual setting of the sun due to three buffalo cresting the hill we were on and ambling extremely close to us before apparently even noticing us. Relaxing and going back to wine sipping once Malemia, the lodge director who was there with us, said the buffalo had seen and accepted us. Becoming inexplicably comfortable with the kids drawing patterns in the dirt with sticks about 30 meters from the three buffalo staring at them and announcing to the buffalo they were not permitted to cross the drawn lines (in our defense Malemia took pictures of this). Learning later that Malemia and Nicholas privately spoke and decided if the buffalo charged they would run for the four children and grab them into the jeep for safety. Apparently the four adults chatting and drinking alcohol and laughing at the children staring down wild buffalo were deemed too dimwitted to be worth saving.
- Waking up to an elephant eating leaves off a tree outside our room.
- Watching a baboon scamper to sweep up a baby baboon who tried to jump in the lodge's little swimming pool.
- Returning from a night drive to have a large male leopard walk across the driveway entrance just in front of the vehicle and watching him stalk with a throaty grumble into the trees while a herd of impala standing on the front lawn froze and called out their distinct call of alarm when in the presence of a predator.
- Understanding after seeing the leopard on the premises why the lodge's practice of escorting guests through the courtyard to their rooms at night and requiring that you stay in your locked room until you are fetched in the morning is important.
- Seeing so many impala that I took them for granted, and then becoming smitten with them when I realized that as a result of seeing so many I'd failed to take pictures of them. Once you focus on them, the black striped markings on their white fur and their beautiful curved and edged horns become mesmerizing.
- Seeing 6-8 kudu and being speechless at how other-wordly these large antelope seem and how incredible their twisted antlers are.
- Watching a pride of four lionesses and five lion cubs feasting on the abdomen of a buffalo in the dark just beside a pond with four enormous crocodiles laying half submerged in the water with their snouts just feet from the kill waiting for their chance. We observed this with five other jeeps (it was the reason we went to the crowded area of the park because the guides had heard about it). The drawback to having other jeeps there (engine noise) was negated by the fact that we were able to see the feed better with several jeep lights on it. The action was still in a surprising amount of shadow even with the increased light, and the only creature that seemed perturbed by the light was the diurnal hippo who was lounging in the water nearby and would occasionally get a light in his eyes and look thoroughly annoyed. (I have to say with great respect for our lodge that their guides and night safari animal scouts/ light operators are very careful to avoid blasting diurnal animals with light.) The hippo and the crocs looked mystical because the pond was covered by an almost iridescent green moss, giving a green hue to the lights.
- Returning the next day and seeing absolutely no trace (not a single bone) of the carcus, which had been dragged into the pond by the crocs after the lions finished with it. There were several very round-bellied crocs laying in shallow water, digesting their feast.
- Passing 4-5 buffalo skulls with horns still attached laying in wait for the rainy season when water and moths soften the bones.
- Spotting an impala over a tree branch and seeing the impala's stomach be knocked out of the tree by a leopard, who descended silently to the ground to eat and then bury the stomach within a stone's throw of our jeep (and I do not have a good arm). Having the leopard be very aware we were there and not care since it was obvious we weren't trying to steal the impala. Watching the leopard jump back up into the tree to check on the carcass. Realizing that I could watch a leopard for hours their coats are so beautiful and that I had an impulse to go pet the leopard because its coat just looked so silky. I refrained....obviously since I'm alive to type this.
- Seeing the same leopard the next day lounging under a tree and being watched by another safari jeep. He seemed completely disinterested in the other jeep, and as they pulled out we took their place beside him under the tree. Dez was sitting in the front passenger seat, and as we pulled forward the leopard's gaze fell on Dez, he glanced at the rest of the vehicle, and then looked sharply and purposefully back at Dez, at which point I started repeating with a firm, low hiss to Killian, the lodge manager (who was driving us not on safari but to the school), "Go, go, go, go," not letting up my chant until we'd put more space between the leopard and the front seat. Killian giggled at me and claimed the leopard had no interest in Dez. His confidence seemed a bit more suspect later when he mistook a female elephant for a male, and later still when Nicholas confided that Killian found his calling in hospitality management (in which he excels) when he failed his guide certification exam.
- Spotting five porcupines on one night drive, which is apparently quite rare as they are very shy and excellent at hiding. They have such long quills that even in the dark you get a sense of how unbelievably beautiful they are. Apparently the babies are even born with quills, meaning breech births would be very unfortunate. As nocturnal animals, they are only spotted in the park on night drives, which means we had a surprising number of floodlit porcupines on this Zambian adventure including strobe-lit porcupines at the zoo.
- Feeling Dez lean into me subtly, but with great trust as we drove through the Park in the dark. He was so quiet and contemplative on those drives, occasionally asking questions, but mostly just taking in the experience while peering curiously into the shadows.
- Parking at a beautiful little gleaming blue water hole in the gold, late afternoon sun and watching three species of beautiful birds (including a crane eating a frog) and a group of zebras come down to the water's edge to drink just opposite us.
- Seeing lion prides resting under trees during the day or flopped on their backs in tall grass without a care in the world. Seriously. They looked so utterly unimpressed with the idea that anything could or would threaten them, and indeed the only thing that could or does would be passing elephants stepping on them, in which case the lions would feel them coming and amble to a different spot.
- Watching sleepy lions stand and step with enormous paws absolutely soundlessly over dried leaves to a new spot to curl up or stretch out.
- Seeing the bright, vibrant primary colored bee eater birds darting in and out of their homes in the sand banks.
- Seeing vultures high on tree limbs looking for prey, marveling at their extreme size and ugliness that is so marked they become beautiful and stately. Finding great irony that this bird so esteemed and reviled for its shrewedness often makes its next in baobab trees, which are a lifeline for the animals, come close to glowing in certain early morning and late afternoon light, and have spiritual significance to the locals.
- Saying that I was hopeful we'd see a giraffe up close eating from a tree, and rounding the next bend to come upon three large giraffe doing just that right in front of us, and the rest of the herd of about 10-15 giraffe being right nearby on the river banks.
- Having a giraffe watching us from the river bank as we drove the jeep through the river to get to the other side and looking at us like we were the weirdest creatures with the strangest decision making they'd ever seen.
- Watching warthogs run. Simply as that. They are the most hysterical creatures to see run because it's like seeing a pig run, only they look super fierce because of the tusks wrapping up from under their jaw up toward their noses. The tough guy look is betrayed by how short their legs are, which really means they're not so much running as scampering, and the fact that their tails stick straight up in the air perpendicular to the ground like a lollipop or pompom so their buddies can see them in tall grass as they book it about the land. Oh, and they have a kneel to eat off the ground from their odd proportions and are easy prey in this position as they cannot untuck their legs and rise quickly. The only reason they're still alive as a species must be because of buffalo (reference early observations on that species and its survival aptitude).
- Coming upon a herd of elephant in rich afternoon sun down by the water...or in the trees, or on an open plain, or moving on a walking path, or just standing idly and looking about for the next tree leaves to munch.
- Seeing the Zambian national bird (eagle) proudly perched on craggly branches and spotting four enormous vultures high on tree tops scounting for kill to scavange.
- Stumbling on three hyenas lazily lounging on the river bank during the daytime (unusual because they're nocturnal and usually tuck away during the day apparently).
- Watching Lilah and Dez holding onto the "oh shit" bar in the passenger seat and giggling as they bounced along side by side in the front seat of the jeep, blond hair gleaming in the African sun.
- Realizing that the rest of the lodge must have assumed we were a lesbian couple with our two adopted children, since neither looks much at all like either of us and there were no husbands in sight.
- Seeing how red and perfectly round the sun appears as it prepares to disappear below the horizon each evening.
- Watching a lead puku (small antelope) stand frozen at attention and sound its distinct whistle to alarm the herd a predator is in the area.
- Dez announcing to Nicholas on our first drive while looking through binoculars, "I see a lion at 60 degrees north." He later clarified, "Well, I know what 60 degrees is, but I don't know what direction north is."
- Looking at the beautiful patterns of baobab tree park and feeling the need to take a deep breath when driving by a particularly large or solitary one, or one with great history from being damaged by elephants and healing itself over many years.
- Feeling the wind rustling fabric of clothes and whipping hair into snaggles while riding in the jeeps.
- Watching rinse water turn brown while bathing after safari rides from the dirt carried in the wind on limbs and face.
- Often feeling like we were alone in another world on night drives, with air changing without seeming reason between pockets of cooler air so that you wanted a wrap and bursts of warm or even hot air. Hearing leaves crunching under the tires and dry branches scratching the sides of the jeep on narrower driving paths winding through the brush. Watching the sweep of the spotlight as it reached back and forth across the land and picked up glinting animal eyes, sometimes dozens of sets together in the distance.
- Marveling at the terrain and angles the jeeps were capable of maneuvering through, particularly with areas of deep sand.
- Capturing and releasing outside a huge beetle that ran over Dez's foot in the shower and thinking that he'd never looked as impressed by me as he did in that moment. Being grateful it wasn't a similarly sized spider as I wouldn't have pulled out the same performance. I must have been a fly in a former life because I have a completely unreasonable fear of spiders and distrust of how they move. (Brief aside: I once watched a program on conquering one's fears that highlighted spiders, hoping to address my own arachnophobia, and the lady they had on the show was such a nut and so over the top she never sat on grass and obsessively inspected the corners, ceiling and floor, of all rooms she entered checking for spiders. This made me feel much better about myself and I turned off the show, deciding I was actually normal.)
- Hearing a low lion grumble/ roar during dinner (which we were eating at tables on the lawn) and being told cheerfully by the lodge manager, "Oh yes, that's a lion. We know he's there and have been watching him. He's about 100 meters away. Just have the children talk loudly and the voices should keep him away."
- Feeling less confident about the lion on the property the second night we heard him during dinner after Malemia described watching a lion hunt a puku in front of the porch at breakfast last year, and a lion chase an impala into the pool the previous month.
- Talking with Nicholas, our guide, about the rigors of the guide exam, which include a written exam, identification stations (animal prints, leaves, feathers, bird calls), and a practicum with five experts in the vehicles (specializing in mammals, plants, birds, service and driving). Of 39 who sat for the exam, 11 advanced to the practicum drive and only six passed it. Nearly all guides are from villages in the area and passing is a source of enormous pride and job security.
- Dez making a band bracely for Killian, the lodge manager, on his birthday and helping him blow out he candles on his cake. Killian was one of the only non-local members of the staff, and he had a son Desmond's age back in Livingstone who he would see in late October. Dez connected with him and the next week as we drove home from the airport in San Francisco Dezi started to describe the safari to Jeremy and then got quiet, said in a low voice, "I just can't believe I won't see Killian ever again," teared up, and then slumped over sound asleep for the next 14 hours.