What Being "On Safari" Means

You know that feeling that you’ve experienced a world in a day? We’ve just had two of those.

Our Life Experience Meters are off the charts. It’s going to be challenging – actually impossible – to express what we’ve seen and done in just two days. I feel as if a whole new part of my brain has awakened. I guess that’s the Africa lobe. You can’t access it until you are here.

We are now on safari in the Serengeti National Park. What being “on safari” means is that you ride around for hours relying on a driver/guide to find animals. You take photos, and then move on. But what being on safari has meant to us is that we have physically entered into another world – one in which the plains roll on forever, there are few smells but the soil and air, and African trees with the flat wide canopy – yes, those! – and there are a pride of lions under that next tree, and 500 migrating wildebeests with their friends the zebras up ahead, and two lazy fat hyenas sleeping by the mud puddle looking for all the world like cuddly pups. 

There is a creek full of fat, grey hippos snorting and rolling in the mud, a tree with a troop of vervet monkeys eating leaves, and a mama warthog with her tiny little prancing hog-itos. This is a surreal world of fantasy that just cannot be real, yet it is. There is no trash, no billboards, no electrical towers in the distance or power stations. You have actually stepped into The Lion King and it takes everything you have not to stand up through the rooftop of the safari van and belt “The Circle of Life.”  

And there is life – everywhere you look. You’ve gotta wonder what evolution had in mind. Brilliantly colored birds in blues and purples and greens, the black and white contrast of zebra stripes, bright pink and purple lizards, feathery and fabulous flightless birds that look like show girls and walk like ballerinas. 

And there is also death – bones left in situ by predators, a buffalo skull with enormous black horns posing next to its former ribcage, vultures with bald necks and heads waiting atop a tree for the lioness to leave her half-eaten wildebeest carcass. 


This morning, a leopard stalking a herd of gazelles used the safari vans for cover as it planned its attack. If I were an animal living in the Serengeti, I would not want to be a gazelle. They are extremely graceful and beautiful, but they must be nervous wrecks with all those big cats around. Every time I would see a delicate gazelle away from the herd, I wanted to yell out “haven’t you seen National Geographic? The gazelle never wins!”

Around dusk, our guide and driver, Eli (pronounced “Ellie”) drove us to our camp in the Serengeti National Park for the night. Eli is a super cool dude, low key and funny. He likes to speak Spanish to us when we think its Swahili. He’s also extremely knowledgeable about the vast diversity of species in the park and the best damn four-wheel driver I’ve ever seen.

(Below: Luis with camera)

Kilima Tented Camp consists of a central tent, large enough for a small “bar” section and dining room with three tables. The sleeping tents are arranged in a line radiating outwards on both sides from the central one. Each is private and certainly the largest tent I have ever slept in. There is a Double-Queen sized bed with white sheets and comforter, and white mosquito netting. It could easily sleep three without being crowded. I have never seen a bed this big. The small tables and chairs are made of solid wood. There is a Bible with a soft leather cover on the dresser. There is also a separate adjoining bathroom tent with both a Western-style toilet and an actual shower with hot running water. Oh, and wifi. In the middle of the frickin’ Serengeti.

Upon arrival, we are greeted at Kilima with a round of applause and cheers by four young men, one in a Maasai shuka, the traditional red or colorful blanket of the Maasai. We are offered cool hand towels and fresh mango juice. I like this place and these guys immediately. They are friendly and fun, and like to laugh. We are introduced to Abdullah the chef, Emanuel the assistant, and Korianga the lead staff member. Korianga is Maasai, and is now my new best friend.

On this small hill, called Rongai Nne (Rongai 4) locally, we have a view across the plains of the Serengeti. It is an unbelievable sight. Luis and I cannot believe we are here.