I’ve been to Africa three times. The first was with GB and we went to South Africa. The second was with two friends and we went to Rwanda where we spent time with Chimps, Golden Monkeys and the Gorilla.
The third which happened this month was to Kenya and Tanzania where I had hoped to see the Great Migration, but didn’t. It had happened two weeks before I arrived.
Despite missing the drama of the Mara river crossing, there were thousands upon thousands of animals. Herds of elephant, gazelle, wildebeest, and impala, troops of baboons, towers of giraffe, cackles of hyena, dazzles of zebra, prides of ostriches, kettles of hawk, storytellings of heron, sounders of warthog. You get it. Lots of animals! The endless plains of Kenya and Tanzania were punctuated by the occasional Acacia tree. The grasses were exceptionally dry as drought had taken its toll. Newborns hung with their moms. Ostrich and Zebra seemed to be in a perpetual state of mating.
This was the first time I had ever traveled with a tour group.
It’ll be the last. Of course, I ‘ll tell you why. But first I wanted to mention those glorious animals who live with the stresses of habitat encroachment, increased human/animal conflict, poaching, over-tourism, and climate change. They don’t know about any of that so in the absence of that knowledge, they adapt as best they can. There is a dignity in that; one that of course they don’t know they bear but one that exists in my mind. There is the remarkable beauty of their movements; the grace of Impala leaping; the majesty of Lion simply sitting and watching; the wingspan of storks flying; the don’t give a crap attitude of the trotting sounder of Warthogs. The intricacy of life is precious and vulnerable. The loss of say an insect species leads to either the demise of a group reliant on that food source or an adaptation. Climate change puts up a roadblock to the natural course of adaptive change. Will animals be able to find ways to cope? Hard to imagine. We humans have that ability. If it’s relentlessly hot, we create cooling systems. Animals don’t have that skill. They die out. The tragedy of rapid climate change is so evident in those African plains. It’s visible in the spectacular cloud forests that surround the Ng’oro-Ng’oro crater, home to over 300,000 animals. As drought deepens, the tree canopy browns. A few miles away, the snows of Kilimanjaro melt, leaving a trace at the very top and overfilling swamps. That’s been a boon for the short-term, but the water will run out long-term.
The people of Kenya and Tanzania are faced with the same pressures that impact the animals and topography. Some, like the Masai, want to keep their traditional life. That seems like a doomed effort. Life in these areas seems to be in a consistent state of whiplash. While Masai herders wearing traditional garb, stand guard over their cattle, talk on cellphones. Other tribes build large homes next to their old one-room mud huts.
And then there’s what I learned about myself.
I am not a group traveler. Now, this was the first time I’ve ever taken a tour so it might not be a representative sample, but . . . .
There were 8 others. Three women who were friends from California came. There were two couples, one from South Carolina and the other from Texas. There were two singles, one man and myself. Two jeeps, so lots of room. The group leader was experienced, calm, intelligent. The tour itself was well organized. Accommodations were amazingly incredibly wonderful. All that was good.
There were a couple of interesting conversations with the other single about spirituality. His girlfriend is quite spiritual, he hasn’t been. There was a nice conversation with one of the women about a fundraiser she was planning. There were many good conversations with the group leader, Philip. And a stimulating conversation the first night with one of the three women who had arrived prior to the other two. Once the entire group got together, it was an entirely different matter. The conversations switched to:
Cameras
Lenses
Safari clothing
Grandchildren
Children
Safari shoes
Previous trips
Future trips
People back home who no one knew
The three women always hung together. They sat with one another in the jeep. At meals. At lectures. The two couples did the same. So, when it came to jeep sitting, the other single man and I had to pick spots. The three women chatted together. The couples engaged with each other. Finally, one of the women suggested we switch it up so that each of us had an opportunity to get to know one another. That would have been good had the discussions centered on anything other than the above list. I had thought that once the list was exhausted, conversations would turn to politics, history, religion, life experiences.
It didn’t.
One woman talked incessantly. Oh, so did another. The three men bonded nicely. The other women seemed incredibly interested in the minutia of discussions. They were all nice people and their collective energy was impressive but exhausting for me.
There was literally no time, ever, when we just stood up and quietly looked at what was happening in front of us. Sometimes I just wanted to beg everyone to just “shut the fuck up”. I didn’t. I’m actually rather proud of myself that I refrained.
I had envisioned deep conversations with various people. There were none. At least not for me.
Now, I know myself and I know that I’m responsible for how I relate in groups of people. I’ve never been good at it. I’ve never been one to enjoy sitting around with a group of people just talking about nothing. I like one-on-one or group discussions. But I truly dislike and an uncomfortable with minutia. It’s not that I’m so intellectual. I’m not.
When my friend, Wendy, was alive, we traveled as a group. I was good during the daytime and early evening activities, but I always left around 9 pm. I’m an introvert. I get exhausted and antsy. So, I remove myself and go where I’m comfortable. People always seem like they’re having such a good time talking about sports or, in the recent case, cameras.
Ugh. Not me.
As I said, I’ve always known this about myself. I never had a group that I just hung with in college. Or during work years. I never joined a group at a bar for an after-work drink. For years, I wanted to be a part of such a group. And when I was, as with the Wendy-times, I was too uncomfortable to fully participate.
It’s just not me.
So, I don’t blame the group for my choices. And I’m not really assigning blame to myself. No blame necessary. It’s just the way it is. It’s my nature. I don’t need to try to change it.
Now that brings me to future trips. GB and I probably won’t travel in the way we have in the past. That means some sort of tour and I guess I’ll look for trips that include more people rather than fewer. I never ever, never never, want to be trapped for 15 days with 8 people talking about lighting. Or comparing pictures. Or shoes. And as much as I have nothing but antipathy towards cruises, I suspect that’s where we’ll end up. Maybe a nice river cruise with enough people on board that I can find a few who want to share interesting information with me. Or maybe a trip with friends.
And then there’s the issue of traveling with GB. I’ve always liked traveling with him and I want to find a way to do that again. That means taking it more slowly to accommodate his more guarded gait and his issues with urinary incontinence.
But you know what I’ve learned? My gait is slower too. I think we’ll be able to work something out.
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