Safaris, Drivers and the Essentials of Survival

Standing at the edge of the Great Rift Valley in Kenya I looked out from the mountaintop.  I saw rolling hills that stretched to the horizon.  I knew that the adventure that lie ahead would be life changing. 

The driver was waiting in Nairobi.  He was a kind man of small stature.  He had kind eyes and it was obvious from the start that he had a true passion for his job.  Over the course of the following days he would introduce me to the Northern parts of the Serengeti. 

As we pulled out of Nairobi the buildings began to diminish in size, they became fewer in number.  Mile after mile Nairobi became less visible.  As we started our assent to the top of the mountain, which led to the Great Rift Valley, we passed cars and carts pulled by different types of animals.  The road curved and narrowed leaving little room for error.  The driver was experienced and he handled the bulky van with ease.  As we reached the top of the mountain I stepped out and walked to the edge of a tall cliff that overlooked the valley.  Rarely am I ever speechless but in that moment I knew that I was seeing one of God’s most beautiful creations.  The land seemed to go on forever. It was mostly empty of the modern sites that we are so used to.  There were no buildings, no highways it was like looking back in time thousands of years.

I stood there on the edge for ten or fifteen minutes in prayerful thought still in awe of what I was seeing.  I dreamed of a world that doesn’t exist to most of the world.  It was one of great animals that ran freely, with people that roam the land with little to few attachments holding them to one place.  I dreamed of sunsets that dominated the horizon with no obstructions and a night sky that was unhindered by the pollution of city lights.  As I was drifting further into my hopes of what was to come, the driver walked over to me and placed his hand on my shoulder.  He said simply, “my friend, it is beautiful yes, but there is more to see.  We should go.”  With that I took a few pictures and stepped in to the van.

We made our way down the mountain in to the valley.  Upon reaching the bottom I noticed that the road was roughly paved and that there were no buildings within sight.  I asked the driver where the closest town was.  He smiled and with a deep laugh said, “there is no town, only Nairobi is close now.”  For the next hour, as the mountain faded into the background, I sat watching the small brush pass by.  I opened up a small bag that I had picked up in Nairobi.  It was mainly full of essentials like a can of sugar free Redbull, some potato crisps, fresh passion fruit, and some other dried fruits.  I offered some to the driver.  He took a handful of Skittles and shared more about the area.  By this point we were off of the paved roads and from here on out we would not see pavement for several days. 

I sat back watching this new world.  On my right I saw a herd of Zebras standing together as we sped by.  Further along the road we came to what looked to be a small village.  The driver asked if I wanted any souvenirs.  I smiled and shook my head no.  I wanted to see more. He seemed pleased with this decision and told me about the village.  “Mr. Jason, this is one of the villages belonging to the Masai People.  He explained that the huts were constructed of mud and dung.  “The people live in these huts for six or seven months and then it is time to move and build new ones.”  I asked about the children.  Do they go to school?  He said yes.  “Recently the children have been required to attend a school, it is not far ahead.”

We passed through the Masai settlement and made our way deeper in to the sierra.  Along the sides of the road I saw men, women and children walking and playing.  They were wearing traditional Masai garments, which consisted of brightly colored sashes.  I was amazed at how alive and playful the children were.  They jumped and tumbled with one another as the Masai women sat together watching as they wove new fabrics.

Past the settlements, beyond the villagers we were now in deep sierra.  There were more and more animals passing by as we drove ahead.  I looked to my right and saw three elephants walking slowly away from the dirt road.  I took a few more pictures and the driver said, “those are only a few elephants, you will see many more when we reach Masai Mara.  As we neared the protected area of Masai Mara the driver began to slow down.  He pulled to the side of the road and said, “Mr. Jason, this will be a good moment for pictures.”  I looked around and saw nothing.  I asked what exactly I was taking a picture of.  He laughed with a deep and loud laugh.  “Mr Jason, do you see that concrete marker over there?  It is the border between Kenya and Tanzania.  If you stand on one side you are here, in Kenya and on the other you are in Tanzania.” I walked over to the obelisk shaped structure.  Sprays painted on it were two letters separated by a line.  T\K.  I assumed the obvious T was Tanzania and K was Kenya.  So I did the tourist thing and jumped back and forth between the two countries.  I think I was mainly thrilled at the fact that I could cross over without an hour of customs checks on each side.  The driver took a few pictures of me as he laughed. 

We boarded the van once more and began the next leg of our journey to the Masai Mara Reserve.  I saw another herd of Zebras one was facing away from the road.  I named her J.Lo for obvious reasons.  Finally we made it to the gate of the Reserve.  The gate was simple. It was constructed of stones and mortar.  On each side piled in stacks that were at least five feet tall were skeletal remains of various animals.  At the top of each was the skull of an elephant.  I walked up to them and was amazed at the size of the enormity of each skull.  The driver came beside me and explained that the skull is full of small holes, which makes it lighter than other bones.  This allows the elephant to hold its head up without being weighted down.

After a lengthy dialogue with the park officials the driver motioned me back to the van.  I jumped in and we were once more on our way.  The Reserve was teeming with animals.  I saw elephants, zebras, giraffes, even a few hippopotami bathing in a stream that snaked its way through the terrain.

After three more hours we made it to our destination.  I was staying in a place called Serena Mara.  It sat on top of a rolling hill and the view was breath taking.  The driver asked when I would like to take the first safari.  I laughed and said that I felt like we had already taken the first one.  He smiled and said, “my friend you have seen nothing yet.  Shall we go for an evening safari after dinner?”  I nodded with excitement.  He said that we should go by 5:30.  I unpacked my bags, walked around the resort and quickly finished my dinner.  It was time for my first Safari.

The van was equipped for the adventure.  It had a roof that lifted to provide shade and an open view of any animals that we would see along the way.  It also had four-wheel drive, which came in extremely handy on the drive to the reservation and would surely be useful in the safaris to come.

We left the reservation quickly.  It had rained for about an hour and a half before we left and though Kenya is located on the equator it was a cool evening.  I had a jacket with me and was ready to see what the sierra had to offer.

Within five minutes we saw a herd of wildebeests.  They were massive and the number of the herd was in the thousands.  I had flashbacks to the Lion King.  I asked the driver to stop the van and I got out to get a closer look.  The driver apparently didn’t often receive requests like this and he was a little apprehensive but throughout the drive we had found a common ground in our love for adventure.  He had been a driver and a scout for some time and in his free time would go out for days into the sierra to watch the animals.  He studied their movements, their feeding habits, and had become an expert in finding them.  At one point he spotted a cheetah in a tree that was at least two-hundred yards away.  He pointed, I looked and saw nothing. Then I grabbed my binoculars only to see of all things a cheetah lying on a branch in a tree.  I was amazed and quickly came to trust his judgment.  This was still early in the ride and I was excited to get a closer look.  I left the safety of the van and wandered closer to the herd.  They were magnificent!  They moved as one unit.  If one sensed danger the herd moved with him. They were in perfect sync.  I snapped a few pictures and the herd began to move.  I could feel the ground shake.  It was a moment of pure awe.  After the herd moved on I stepped back into the van and we were once again underway.

We came to a stream and the driver stopped.  He pointed to the water and explained that there were four hippopotami submerged.  I stepped out of the van again to get a closer look.  The stream had carved a deep gorge into the terrain and the ground was muddy and wet.  I stepped as close as I could to the edge and took pictures.  I took one more step and felt the ground begin to give way.  I realized in a split second that I was headed down into murky water and there was nothing to stop me.  The driver had explained before that the waters were full of crocodiles and hippos.  This was all that was going through my mind as my feet lost their traction and I began to tumble.  Just as quickly as I began to fall I stopped.  I felt a hand grip me so tightly it almost hurt, but in the moment I was relieved.  I turned only to see the driver standing solidly with my life literally in his hands.  He smiled and in a thick accent that was more reassuring than Morgan Freeman he said, “Mister Jason, it is not a good idea to be this close”.  We both laughed as I regained my balance.  As he laughed he told me, “it is nice to see someone who is not afraid that will enjoy the wonderful creation around him, but my friend I believe you may enjoy it more than your health can tolerate.”  With this he laughed again and exclaimed, “Oh Mr. Jason, you are going to survive this trip without swimming with the crocodiles.”  We moved on, and throughout the way he pointed out more animals.  Some were huge and some were common rodents.  His eye for the detail of the land paired with his confidence was more than reassuring.  Over the coming days he would point out Giraffes, Lions, Cheetahs and animals that I had never seen nor heard of.  I was in constant amazement of everything.  There was no getting used to it and at no moment did it lose its wonder. 

I asked more than my share of questions and with patient smiles he answered each and every one.

On our last day he told me that he had a surprise in store for me.  We journeyed to another reserve.  The reserves were apparently established based on the types of animals that inhabit the area.  As we entered the new area I began to see apes of all kinds running and jumping.  He pointed out each one and told me the names.  They were care free, playful and whether they noticed us or not they were unhindered by our presence.  We stayed there for a couple of hours and I was lost in the complexity of their existence.  Just from my limited time there I could see a social structure.  The mothers were gentle and compassionate with their young.  They grouped together holding their offspring as if they were discussing their daily routines.  The males sat off to the side in groups also.  There was the occasional display of testosterone as one would stand and let out a loud shout.  It was obvious who the patriarch of the group was.  He was an older more laid-back guy.  He just looked wise, as if he had seen his share and more of the world around him.  The other apes showed respect and gave him his own space and distance.  I understood how easy it would be to spend years just observing these tiny actions of community.

Finally we made the journey back to Nairobi.  I was tired but still excited.  We chatted the entire drive and I continued to learn from this new friend.

As I returned I gave so much thought into my time with the driver.  I am an adventurer at heart and often show too much readiness and zeal for a new challenge.  It felt comforting to have a voice along with me that was more experienced, more in tune with the thrills and dangers that this world contained.  I started to apply this to other areas in life.  I thought about counseling and how so many people come with questions, fears, concerns, even panic.  I realized that for those I was able to serve as somewhat of a driver through the terrains of life.  I sat for hours in the airport and even in a hotel in Ethiopia thinking about it.  The question eventually came to mind, where does a therapist turn when he needs a driver.  This felt even more pressing as this particular therapist was sitting in an aged hotel in Addis Ababa.  I felt completely alone and out of my element.  I wasn’t counseling but I was definitely not in my comfort zone.  It dawned on me that in a counseling room I was safe.  I asked the questions, I did the digging when necessary but rarely was I out of my safe zone.  Then I began to remember the words of the men who trained me.  Their gentle encouragement and at times their tougher challenges rang through my mind.  I missed them as I thought about the risks that they guided me through.  They saw me at some of my best moments and quite honestly at many of my worst.  I realized that these men had been my drivers and that I had come to rely on their wisdom even when I was sitting eight thousand miles away.  There have been times when I am so perplexed with a decision that I ask my self what they would do in that moment.  I think about their words, their expressions and many times their patience and grace. 

I believe that we are made in a way that requires us to need each other.  We spend most of our hiding our weaknesses hoping that our drivers won’t  see them.  We dive into isolation because it seems safer.  As I think back to the moment when I was slipping in to the muddy waters of an African stream I realize that this was not the first time a firm hand had pulled me back to safety.  I am learning slowly to lead with my weakness.  This I believe is the lesson that many of the best drivers in my life have taught me and in all their patience they allowed me to grow until I saw it for myself.  In the end, what do professors, supervisors, and a driver in Africa have in common?  They have all known me at moments when the illusion of my own control was fleeting.  They all extended a hand of safety to me when I was helpless and they all have ventured with me into some of the scariest moments in my life.  Ultimately they have mirrored God’s love to me.  They have been the reflections of the greater hand which so many more times than I can count has pulled me from the edge and with a laugh that surpasses a driver or Morgan Freeman has rejoiced at the opportunity to be with me as I met my limits and clung to Him for safety.