AFRICAN DIARY

By Fr David McLaurin
/have been looking into the possibility of going on safari. This term is one of the few Kiswahili loan words in the English language; in its original context it just means journey, but its modern meaning is vastly different. I have no particular desire to go on safari. having no compulsive interest in wild animals. but that is the thing to do in Kenya. and one ought to do it at least once, or so one feels. Besides which, should visitors come, one has to have something to do with them.
The travel agent I spoke to was very helpful, but clearly misunderstood my financial status. The safari he outlined cost £290 for two nights. One flew from Wilson Airport in Langata to a luxury lodge in the Maasai Mara, where game drives took place at dawn and dusk (animals sensibly spend most of the warmest hours in their lairs). There was also a swimming-pool, and all meals were cooked by an internationally renowned chef; one could drink in the bar and watch the sunset, and at night the Maasai tribespeople came to the hotel and did their famous tribal dance. There are, of course, less expensive safaris. but these involve being driven to the Mara from Nairobi for five hours in a minibus, over unmade roads. and staying in tents which nevertheless have hot and cold running
water, and internationally renowned chefs as well. But these are only marginally less expensive, and the thought of such a long miserable journey puts me off.
My friend Claudia raves about the Mara and the quality of the sunsets there. Her friend, a Swedish professor, has a camp to which she flies every now and then. I once asked Claudia if she had ever seen the view from the top of the Ngong Hills; in reply she adopted an air of studied vagueness. It seems that the Mara is the place.
But other people have been less enthusiastic: one I consulted warned me that the people who go to the Mara were all the sort I would not like; another was eloquent about the quality of the roads over which game drives take place. It is no fun, he averred, sitting in a sweltering minibus and feeling sick while people take photos of elephants and lions. As for the game
walks, they are hell. The guide constantly stops to
examine droppings on the pathway, and there is the ever-present danger of being charged by something big and angry. Ever) year tourists are killed after getting too close to animals. The biggest killers are hippos. who trample you to death; giraffes dispatch you with a good kick to the skull, and as for lions, cheetahs and elephants well, it is best not to think about that too much. Ditto crocodiles.
Fiven if I had £290 (and that is the special discounted rate for local residents), I don't think I would spend it on the Mara. The trouble is. can one live with the reproaches that will surely follOw? I can imagine the comments: "What, you lived in Kenya, and you never went to the Maasai Mara?You would have to be pretty brave to shrug that off. It is like living in Rome and never going inside St Peter's. So perhaps I will have to go whether I like it or not. It seems obligatory. Claudia is going to ask the Swedish professor how much his camp costs. Otherwise, the alternative holiday spot is the beach. which for fivestar luxury. flights included, costs about half the price of a safari.
Fr David MeLaurin i+ missionary priest in A,