Last week my friend asked me for her four children if I had ever been on safari. I cringed, yes, I have been on safari. This is a horrible, horrible thing to say, but I have been on safari so much that I am completely over it. Completely done. I have seen the big five (buffalo, lion, leopard, rhino, and elephant) and more zebras, giraffe, and antelope than I can count. Even kudu and eland. Safari is a completely magical and wonderful experience, it's amazing. And I'm okay if I just sit it out in the lodge. By the pool. Or even the tent, with a book.
I thought about this for a moment, and as with all things that you develop a cynical attitude about there is some kind of damage.
My second to last safari I think is the cause of my done-ness.
We went to Amboseli with another couple. Amboseli is a six hour drive on mostly dirt roads from Nairobi. Kenya doesn't have the same kind of road maintenance standards that we do in the US. Miles and miles of it was complete corrugation. The husband of the other couple drove. He's a pilot. I don't know if all pilots are like this, safe in the sky and a little crazy on the ground. He kept whipping the car around trying to find the sweet spot of the road. I think at one point we were driving at a forty-five degree angle. I was mostly trying not to think about it.
At this point I will mention that I was five months pregnant. I had yet to get my hands on an appropriate bra for my new preggo chest. I think I had a stretched out bra on, with a cotton sports bra pulled over it. I spent the whole ride with my hands crossed over my chest thinking, 'oh man, my nipples are going to point to the floor.' [They don't, I made it out okay.]
You know safari's consist of many hours of driving. So I spent the whole weekend like this.
Our friend was also a bird watcher (I think he's in his twenties, figure that one out), so when we weren't driving at dangerous angles he was whipping the car around, perpendicular to the road and yelling,
"Look at that yellow-bellied, tufted, titmouse!" Seriously, for that kind of whiplash I was atleast hoping for a cheetah.
We also camped that weekend. I love camping, I do. We were camping near some maasai settlements. We would do something highly unusual like, say, sit down to eat lunch, and out of nowhere children or men would appear, ask us for cash and then proceed to watch us. That's right, watch us. It's the Dirty White People Show!
Because you know, when you're camping, you're dirty...right. Scott swears they have a sixth sense, 'Embarass white people.' Like ESP with more socail and cultural implications. EWP?
Needless to say, after miles of corrugation and becoming a National Geographic Show for someone else I was pretty much over it.
Rhinos are cool, though. And cheetahs, cheetahs are really cool.