MyWestworld

Never Try to Get a Wild Animal to Pose with You (part 2)

Posted on 21. Feb, 2008 by Kerry Banks in Writing from the road

One thing quickly becomes evident about Kenya–it has excellent beer. I spend my first afternoon in Nairobi drinking Tuskers beside the Jacaranda Hotel’s swimming pool. This lager, which was said to be Ernest Hemingway’s favourite beer, is made Kenya Breweries, founded in 1922 by George and Charles Hurst. The company logo–a tusked elephant–honours the memory of George, who was killed in 1923 by a charging bull elephant. Every bottle bears the slogan “Bia Yangu, Nchi Yangu,” a Swahili phrase that means “My Beer, My Country.” Enjoying a cold Tusker is as much a part of East African tradition as going on safari, which I plan to do tomorrow.

As the equatorial sun beats down, I thumb through a copy of Fodor’s African Safari, which provides an overview of the safari experience. My eye is immediately drawn to a chapter entitled “An Animal-Survival Guide.” Besides some common sense warnings, such as “Keep your hands to yourself” and “Never try to get a wild animal to pose with you.” (Don’t laugh; the book claims it’s the largest cause of death and injury on safaris), there are also “worst-case survival tips” in the event you are suddenly threatened by a dangerous beast.

Lion: “If a lion is coming at you stand your ground, shout or scream as loudly as you can, and even wave your arms and try to be menacing, if only to confuse or stop it for a moment. Never ever turn your back to a lion and try to run—that is your death warrant. If an attack presses on, you best bet is to play dead and to protect your neck with an arm or stick to prevent a paralyzing bite.”

Crocodile: “If a crocodile grabs you when you are swimming the best thing to do is to fight. The most successful defence is to actually thrust your arm right down the crocodile’s throat. It has a flap to stop taking in water and if you can open it, it will have to let go. But you’re going to get a sore arm in the process. ”

Buffalo: “If a buffalo charges you, run for the nearest cover. If it is too close, you must try to leap out of the way of its slashing horns. If it is upon you, your best bet is to lie flat on the ground. It will try to butt and gore you, but you can minimize the damage by playing dead.”

The playing dead option strikes me as likely prelude to the real thing, while the strategy of jamming an arm down a crocodile’s gullet sounds ludicrous. Well, I wasn’t intending to take a dip in the bush anyway.

As I read, the hotel staff is busily setting up banquet tables laden with steamers of food under a tented area at the far end of the patio. “For a wedding reception,” my waiter informs me. Before too long, the guests begin arriving. There is a long, steady stream of them. As they file in, the stereo system plays “The Girl from Ipanema.” The women are clad in colourful African garb—long dresses, scarves and festive hats. The men are not nearly so natty. Many of their clothes appear to be from second-hand shops. The most popular ensemble is a suit or sports jacket with a baseball cap and sneakers. Eventually, the bride and groom appear. She is a young, beaming Kenyan; he’s a grumpy middle-aged Dane. Besides myself, he is the only white person present.

My waiter says that I may have to share my table with members of the wedding party. There was supposed to be 170 guests, but 250 celebrants have shown up. He wonders how long the food will last. As the crowd thickens, I strike up a conversation with one of the female guests. “Where is the groom’s family?” I ask.

She shakes her head in disgust. “You people,” she says. “We bring all our family.”

“You people?” I repeat. “What do you mean by that? He’s from Denmark. I’m from Canada.”

Her expression softens. “Canadians are good people,” she says. It turns out that she has a sister who lives in Vancouver.

Shortly afterwards, I return to my room, where I discover that the hotel has left me an unexpected gift—a complimentary plate of fruit and a bottle of red wine. I don’t spend much time wondering why. The evening passes pleasantly.