We started the safari today without the Canadian girls. The three ladies were feeling sick and couldn’t hack the whole day in the van. I don’t blame them at all – I’ve been there and done that. Luckily they are booked for another safari in Tanzania before they go back to the T-Dot.
The Massai women attack the van every time we enter and exit the safari park. They hoard around with their crafts and demand prices for things we didn’t even request. It is daunting and makes me feel utterly claustrophobic. I find myself buying things to get them to retreat. We both win at that point, I guess.
We saw the same animals as yesterday, plus some impalas, warthogs, hyenas, and baboons. Bonus round – we also came across the wildebeest/zebra migrations. It was like a milky way of wild animals stretching into the distance. Driving through them was nuts. They would run straight at us and then veer to the right or left at the last minute. It was like a super scary game of chicken. Needless to say, I was the chicken.
About half way through the day we got stuck in a big mud hole - A perfect spot for a lion attack. It didn’t help that a crazy cricket hopped in the van and I used that moment to hop out of the van and wait patiently for the bug to leave. The nice African driver kept saying, “I can’t protect you outside of the van, please lady come inside.” Only I would take the lion over the cricket.
One of my favorite people from GVN is Sally, the celebrity masseuse. Whenever things would get boring she would entertain us with stories from high school. She loved to join rallies, protests or anything where she could yell “unite” or “justice.” She is a hardcore Democrat and we love to banter about nearly everything. Every once and a while we will find something to agree upon – “unite!” That girl cracks me up.
One of the craziest animals we saw was a dik dik. It is a very small deer/cow that clearly is not very bright. For the rest of the trip if something bad happened one of us would yell out “son of a dik dik” and everyone would crack up for the next five minutes. The stupidest things are instantly hilarious out here. Don’t even get me started on the domestic pigmy lion cat we discovered.
At end of the safari we came along a hotel called Fig Tree Camp, which was a series of luxury suite tents on the end of the safari. They were beautiful and I was mad jealous we weren't there. Between Fig Tree Camp and Safari Park Lodge you really can do Kenya in luxury if you have the money. It would be great to do when Jeremy and I got older, or if we won the lottery. There is a surprising amount of elderlies here rocking out and this is how they are surviving. There is even a 75-year-old woman here with her sons. Rebel yell!
The day ended in a very unique and impressive way; we got to spend the evening in a traditional Massai tribe. These are the same people that refuse to have their picture taken and yet we were invited into their homes to learn about their culture. They live in shelters that are made of dried cow feces and branches. They smell really bad and look very unstable. The whole tribe is surrounded by a branch fence to keep out the wild animals. They herd cows for survival and they sleep inside the fence amongst the houses during the night. The whole village is covered in cow “deposits.” They only consume beef, milk and blood for food and drink. This place is intense. I can’t believe people can survive in those conditions. They are incredibly strong and very intimidating.
Just as we were leaving I saw a glittering ring on the tribal leader’s finger. It had a familiar shape so grabbed for his hand to see what caught my eye. He must have thought that I was going to rob him because he didn’t seem too happy. My suspicions were right; this man, in the middle absolutely no where, was wearing a CTR ring. He told me that it was traded to his tribe from a young women passing through Kenya. We explained how important it was and what it stood for. He seemed very proud and pleased that it was worth something to us and that he owned it. It just goes to show that our Heavenly Father knows each and every one of us individually. What an amazing experience to build my testimony of the love He has for the people of Kenya, and those of us blessed enough to visit it.
Massai women select their husbands by how high they can jump in the air. Their fathers decide if they can marry them by how many cows they offer her family. It turns out everyone got a cow offer but me. One man wanted to send 30 cows to my friend’s dad. Me – NOTHING. Dang it, I am not even worth a stupid half-starved cow to these people.
To make matters worse they kept calling me Dennis. Apparently, they all have English names and one of them was called Dennis too. They brought him over to shake my hand and they all had a giggle.
FYI - Denise plus no cows offered and a boy’s name equals not funny.
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