One Night in Amboseli

(Another Story from A Fortunate Life – by Ali Van Zee)

The ‘boys’ (their term) running the camp must have just turned off the
generator, as the single light bulb hanging in the middle of my tent started
to fade and went out completely. There is possibly no darker place than
equatorial Africa in the middle of the night. Maybe the deep center of the
old copper mine in Bisbee, Arizona – when you’re on tour there, they turn out
the lights, too and you can’t even see the tip of your nose, let alone another
soul. But standing in my tent that night, with the sounds of the jungle rising
to meet me, I had never been anywhere as dark. And I was a little scared, I
might add. All alone…in the last tent in the row, the one furthest from the
center, furthest from help. But, as usual, I’ve gotten ahead of myself and
need to take you back to the beginning.

It was the late ‘70’s and I had been living in Germany for several years. I
wasn’t in the military, I had come on my own. Actually, I had fallen in love
with a young German man I had met here in the States and wound up
getting the most fantastic job an adventurous girl like me could ever hope
for: Assistant to the Managing Director of one of the world’s largest
incentive travel companies. Max, my boss, was very good to me; he gave
me all the best assignments, sending me off with one group after another to
a number of exotic places. It was my job not only to lead the group, but to
liase with the local agencies we worked with to ensure our guests were
treated to the time of their lives. Our guests had all won/earned these trips
through various incentive programs offered by their companies and designed
by us. We had great clients, too, Opel/General Motors (by far, our largest),
various banks and other manufacturing companies including this particular
group from International Harvester. Most of my groups were huge in
number, like 500 people taking over a cruise ship (that was considered a big
cruise ship in those days!) and sailing from France to Morocco and out to the
Canary Islands and Madeira. This group was small – intimate – only 16
people, mostly couples and one father/son combo. THIS was going to be my
first safari and I was excited beyond belief!

Ever since I was a little girl and had gone to the San Francisco Zoo for the
first time, I knew I wanted to go to Africa. I longed to throw myself into a
heap of sleeping (sated, of course) lions or play with elephant babies under
the shade of their mamas’ bellies. I was “Sheena, Queen of the Jungle” long
before Tonya Roberts got the part! Tawny hair flying, I ran with zebras and
frolicked with cheetahs…in my dreams. Never did I think that I would
actually get the chance to go there.

We almost didn’t make it, either. Our little group got to Frankfurt/Main
airport at 7:30pm for our group check-in prior to our Lufthansa commuter
flight to Geneva. From there, we would be on a Swiss Air jumbo to Nairobi, a
14-hour flight. It was February and central Europe was in the middle of a
real cold snap, complete with feet of snow instead of the usual inches. We
were worried we might not be able to take off, but the weather gave us a
break and off we flew, over the Alps to Geneva. Somewhere over those Alps,
a new storm developed and the snow was coming down in buckets at
Geneva Airport. They were going to have to close down but decided to let us
land first. Thank God! I mean we were just on a little commuter plane and I
don’t think we could have circled around for too long, let alone been diverted
anywhere else. By now it was past 11pm and a half-hour past the time were
supposed to depart for Kenya. We waited at our departure gate for the snow
to abate, but by 2am, Swiss Air was kind enough to put us up in the airport
hotel with promises we would be in the air in the morning.
Maybe this doesn’t sound too bad. But remember, that flight from Geneva to
Nairobi is 14 hours so we are talking about losing a full day now, which would
mean possibly having to cut our time in the ‘bush’. I could have cried, but I
had to remain professional. We reassembled at the airport at 10am and
watched the snow swirl around the planes parked at the gates. There wasn’t
a whole lot of movement on the ground – no baggage cars running around,
no food trucks delivering what used to be rather tasty meals to the aircraft.
No “follow me” trucks leading planes in or out. Just snow, lots and lots of
snow. I’m a 4th generation San Franciscan, we don’t get much snow in The
City, so partly, this was kind of fun. By 2pm however, it wasn’t fun at all
anymore. But then, the clouds started to lift, the flakes were fewer and
farther between and before you know it, it had stopped! No blue sky, but no
snow either. The gate crew announced our flight would be taking off at 4pm
and sure enough, the baggage cars started moving, food was making its way
onboard and our mood was significantly improving.

We were getting ready to line up to board when I noticed something I’d

never seen before – men standing all over the wings of our 747! They had
something they were pushing around – wait a minute, they’re sweeping snow
off the wings? Not snow – ice? They’re sweeping ice off the wings and using
jets of hot water to keep them warm? Could this possibly be an OK thing to
do here? I’d been flying a lot the last couple of years, especially as I was
also a part-time stew for Lufthansa during the summer; ‘summer’ being the
operative word. Watching these men sweeping away, I wasn’t all that sure I
wanted this plane to take off, no matter how much I wanted to get to Africa.
The Swiss Air staff at the gate was all smiles, though and so were all the
passengers. No one seemed in the least concerned about the view out the
window. OK, maybe they DO do this all the time so what am I worried about?
Where’s that adventurous spirit? I took my sumptuous seat in First Class
(thank you, International Harvester) and settled in to focus on my ‘pre-flight-
mantra’ – something I started many years earlier and continue to do to this
day. I surround the plane with light, golden-white, protective light, from the
tip of the nose, down the body, out over both wings, all doors, gear,
everything. I imagine us all under heavenly protection and thank the gods
(no offense, there could be several) in advance for a safe lift-off, safe flight
and safe landing. Of course, I also ask protection for all who are flying this
day…be generous of spirit, I always say! While deep in this meditation, I
become vaguely aware of the engines revving and our plane moving down
the runway. With a last quick prayer, I willed our jet into the sky and yes,
yes, yes, we were up and on our way! That was pretty scary stuff – I was
glad to get it out of the way early. I mean, this would definitely ensure the
rest of the trip would hold no hazards whatsoever, right? This had to have
been enough…what else could possibly go wrong?

We got into Nairobi about 7 or 8 the next morning and were all pretty
exhausted from the whole ordeal. Today, we would rest in the hotel, do a
little shopping, swimming, etc. before getting into our special safari vans
early the next day. I was so eager to get going, but could barely stand from
lack of sleep and the hotel bed looked like the best place for me for a while,
so I happily took a lovely nap. That night, we ate as a group in the hotel and
started to get to know one another. My group comprised couples from all
over Germany which was always fun for me, trying to decipher what they
were saying in their individual dialects. I had taken an intensive Berlitz
course when I first got to Germany, and now, after several years, I was pretty
fluent. But I spoke High German (with a little bit of a Frankfurt accent) and
trust me, there are some German dialects which are near impossible for
other Germans to understand! After a few beers, though, as you know,
language becomes pretty universal and we all were having a great time. Off
to bed early, however, as we would be leaving the hotel at 7am sharp to
start our safari. First leg: Amboseli Game Reserve for some animal tracking,
lunch at the Serena Lodge followed by more time out in the bush before
heading to our tent camp nestled in the lowlands in view of snow-capped Mt.
Kilimanjaro….Hemingway, here I come!

WOW. Seems kind of dumb, but what else can one say? It was magical –
from the moment we left Nairobi (which in those days was a small, clean,
lovely city with very few slums) we were in the most beautiful
savannah/scrub landscape. Actually, not unlike parts of the California
foothills and with many of the same trees and plants, but with many others
I’d never seen before such as the ubiquitous acacia. And animals!
Everywhere zebras, gazelles, smaller tommys and tiny dik-diks. Frisky
baboons sitting in the middle of the road made truly lewd gestures if we
didn’t stop to give them treats! We’d turn a corner and suddenly have two
giraffes munching happily away at the tops of the acacias that had at first
hid them from view. Oh, this was glorious! So far, so WONDERFUL!
Our lunch at the Serena Lodge was delightful and light. They had a pool
which looked way too inviting, but I had decided to walk outside the gates a
little bit as I was curious about a collection of thatched huts just a few
hundred yards away from the Lodge. I saw a few native women walking
back that way and decided to follow. They were about 100 yards ahead of
me, but I didn’t get very far. There was this awful kind of crunching sound
coming from behind a very large thicket of brambles and bushes to my left
that stopped me in my tracks. There, again. Chomp. Crunch. What was it?
You know, I had to look. You know I did! I found a little ‘peep-hole’ in the
maze of twigs and there she was – a beautiful lioness…eating a baby giraffe
for lunch. I was transfixed and horrified all at the same time. I was also
down-wind! Whew – she hadn’t heard me, and she couldn’t smell me – I
might have a chance here. I had more than a chance, I actually had the time
of my life as I avoided being her desert and bounded back to the Lodge
yelling for everyone to get in the vans and follow me! All the other guests
came too and soon there were at least 8 jeeps and vans lined up in front of
our lone diner. I feel guilty now, as I think back on how we disturbed her, but
adrenaline was running too high for guilt then. We all snapped away as she
turned and ran into the thicket (just feet from where I had been peering in)
leaving her prey laid out for the ‘papparazzi’. Everyone was awed by the
sight and the nearness of such a wild creature and you could have heard a
pin drop. Finally, the lioness reappeared and stood guard over her kill, ready
to defend at the drop of a hat. She eased herself down, belly on the ground,
but you could tell she could spring up any second if she had to. Suddenly
one of the other guests (NOT one of mine) jumped down from his jeep. I
guess he thought he could get in a little closer to catch all the blood and
spilling guts to share with his buddies back home. In a flash, the lioness was
up, tail straight as an arrow, every muscle taut and tense. We yelled,
screamed really, at that guy and he made it back to the jeep just ahead of
her charge! Who did he think he was, Dave Salmoni? But then, who did I
think I was just a half-hour earlier walking on my own in the bush?

It was by now about 2 or 2:30 in the afternoon and we still had a way to go
before getting to our tent camp, so our group took off leaving Serena Lodge
a little less serene than when we came. It didn’t take long to be
overwhelmed again by the power and majesty of the African plain. Again,
rounding a curve, we came right into a huge herd of elephants and they
were on the move. There must have been 30 of them from the tiniest babies
(I wanna play, I wanna play) to the largest animal I had ever seen. She was
the matriarch and she was in the middle – a giant among giants. She
towered over the others and they clearly deferred to her. I was lucky to
capture them on film, moving swiftly along the ground with mighty
Kilimanjaro ahead in the distance. Award-winning photos…real “Mutual of
Omaha’s Wild Kingdom” stuff. I call it my ‘Lowell Thomas’ series. One look
at the pictures today and I’m right back alongside these beauties.

Finally, around 4:30, we pulled into camp. A sweet little camp with about 12
tents, each with a tented outhouse in the back (outhouse, in Africa…in the
bush?). There was also the main part of the camp where we would have
dinner and breakfast as well as a huge, well-groomed area where some of
the ‘boys’ were setting up an enormous bon-fire. Each tent had two cots,
that lightbulb I mentioned and a zipped-off area in the back with a bucket on
top. Prior to our arrival, the boys filled the buckets with warm water, et
voila!, a shower to wash off the dust and grime of the day’s activities. Great.
I tore off my dusty shorts and top, picked out something a little warmer to
wear for dinner, threw my bags on the other cot, jumped in for a quick
shower and was ready to head down for a well-deserved meal. It was good,
too. Grilled meat, lots of fruits and interesting greens and yams. Tasty
Kenyan beer…mmmmmm. My group was having a wonderful time,
especially teasing me about how I almost became lunch that afternoon and
how I drew the last tent, etc, etc. Very funny!

After dinner, we headed over to the bon-fire and sat on comfy camp chairs
while we were serenaded and entertained by the guys running the camp.
Our group, feeling no pain by way of too many Kenyan beers (you know how
Germans love their beer) thought it would be fun to entertain them, too. So
there’d be a round of Kukuyu songs and a dance, then a German song, a
slap-dance or two and everyone was having fun. It’s amazing how laughter
and camaraderie can bridge any language barrier and we were all one that
night under the stars. Oh, the stars! We were just a little beyond the
equator where the earth bulges a bit and the heavens are as close as they
can be. The sky was littered with stars – inky black velvet with twinkling
diamonds everywhere – so close you could reach your hand up and touch
them. I’d never seen anything like it and I was dumbstruck, in awe. I could
have stayed there staring out into space all night – but was told it was not a
good idea by more than just the guys in camp...mysterious sounds from the
surrounding jungle were enough to convince me. It was late, maybe
actually only 9 or 10, but on the equator it gets dark right at 7pm and light at
7am. So by now, it was very dark as we were each escorted back to our
tents and zipped in for the night.

I stood under the light, removing my clothes as it began to fade and finally
went out completely. Naked (my preferred sleeping gear at the time), I
actually felt a little shiver as I got everything off and prepared to jump into
the sack, ready to warm up and sleep the night away. I was only about an
inch from landing on the cot when something very large and VERY prickly
sank itself into my right, you know, um-cheek…
AAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEE! I could hear myself scream out,
involuntarily. I leapt up as fast as I could and stood there for what seemed
an eternity until I could hear footsteps running toward my tent – lovely,
masculine footsteps! I was the ‘damsel in distress’ and the cavalry was on
its way. I almost forgot I was naked but had enough time to grab the towel I
had used for my shower as my tent flap unzipped and in rushed 8 burly men
bearing flashlights and sticks. With one hand deftly holding my towel and the
other over my eyes, I pointed at the cot behind me. I couldn’t look at the
cot. I don’t think I wanted to know. Just get it! Suddenly, all the commotion
stopped and there was a dead silence. “This can’t be good”, I thought to
myself. I secured my towel with the hand that had formerly covered my
eyes and turned to look at what had so captured my rescuers they couldn’t
even make a sound. And there it was, in the dark of this Amboseli night:
eight flashlights trained in one beam……on …… my hairbrush?! It was
equatorial Africa and I had just been attacked by a savage hairbrush….

###

There were other things that happened that night, and several of the other
nights we had in Kenya – Tsavo held a surprise or two, as well. But nothing,
nothing, will top what happened to me that night in Amboseli.