The Masaai Mara was nothing short of amazing! There from Wednesday afternoon until Friday afternoon...took four game drives, saw a Masaai warrior dance, ate amazing meals, and slept in a beautiful "tent"- without a doubt the most luxurious accomodations I have ever experienced: handmade chocolates on the pillow, turn-down service AND a hot-water bottle each evening, a queen-size bed all to myself. I can only say WOW! Add to this seeing zebras, wildebeests, giraffes, lions, impalas, Thompson's gazelles, warthogs, meerkats, African foxes, crocodiles, hippos, vultures, ostriches, and countless unnamed antelope varieties and unidentified birds- all in the wild- and my cup was truly running over.
Took innumerable photos and had some time (believe it or not) to do some reflection and writing. Perhaps later, after I'm home, some time has passed, and all of this has soaked in, I'll write some more about it all, but for now, the best I can do is to share my writigs- as well as a few photos. Amani and kwaherini from Nairobi.
The Masaai Mara
The many shades of brown
soothe the eye, surround the
heart with welcome and
deep peace. Who could have known
that brown could be so varied,
so beautiful, so inviting to the soul,
as the wide expanse of grassland
leading to the distant hills
brings me to unexpected tears,
eliciting a sense of open-mouthed amazement.
Along the dusty, rutted road, the sight
of herds of zebras, gazelles, and
wildebeests stops my heart
again and again.
Masaai herdsmen and their flocks add
to my sense of other-worldly wonder,
while the women in their brilliant garb
appear like Miro-spots of color
on the otherwise monochromatic canvas.
Who would have known that the
sight of a distant herd of elephants
or a mother zebra and her colt
would bring a lump to my throat?
For, somehow, this feels like "home"-
though I have never been here
in this life...the open spaces
holy places from which I draw deep peace,
the sense of Divine Presence
very near...
this IS Africa.
WHY?
Why am I here?
What has brought me to this land of
startling contrasts?
of abject, relentless poverty and
startling modern opulence...
of women wrapped in colorful native cloth
bearing burdens on their heads,
and those in business power suits and
high heels, bearing briefcases in their hands...
of barefoot children dressed in castoff cothes
begging on street corners, and others wearing
shoes and spotless uniforms riding private buses
to private schools...
of trash-filled walking paths, awash with plastic
bags and strewn with refuse, and pristine
hotel gardens abloom with flowers relentlessly
tended...
of dusty, rutted rural roads filled with bicycles
and trudging pedestrians, and street-clogging
vehicles of every description filling city streets...
of local markets filled with wooden stalls set
amidst dirt paths and piled high with local
produce and used shoes, and shining modern
supermarts filled with everything one could
desire or need...
of grandmothers in the slums raising
grandchildren on mere shillings per day, and
young professionals ending their day at a
local pub, the tab as high as one month's
wages for the poor...
What am I doing here?
And when I return to my "real" life,
in whose voice shall I speak? Whose
story should I tell?
And will anybody listen?
I wonder...
