by By Tohru Inoue
We bumped along safely in our van through Kenya’s Amboseli National Park. The first thing we came across was a heap of bones. The second was lions.
Leave the petting zoo behind; this is the wild!
There were several giraffes standing together keeping a keen eye out on the pride. Vigilance is the difference between living a full life and prematurely ending up as a heap of bones by the park entrance.
As a kid, I watched nature shows with equal part fascination and hopelessness resignation. Watching a lion take down its prey in slow motion is like watching the Olympics of the animal kingdom. They are inspiring feats of athleticism. But there’s also the feeling of helplessness watching the prey slowly suffocate. The predator cares little for the last protest kicks of its prey. It’s unforgiving out here.
We bumped along some more and, still within the park, came across a herd of cattle being driven by three Maasai men. They were on foot draped in shawls and holding only a few sticks for protection. But they walked purposefully, confidently.
For all the warnings posted at the park entrance about staying in the vehicle at all times, these Maasai warriors seemed rather casual.
They were casual but not ignorant. Experience afforded them their casual demeanour. They grew up here. They learned the ropes from their fathers. They’ve had run ins with wildlife before and observed what to do from their elders.
I’d like to think I’m the Maasai in this allegory. I’d like to think I can do all things. Some of us may act casual but some of us are also oblivious to the danger. There are lions out there prowling, looking for prey to devour. Some of us are tired and we make easy prey. And some of us may feel like our throats are in the clamped jaws of a lion and our life is slowly ebbing away. And the lion cares little of our protest kicks.
No. I know where I am in the food chain. I’m not the Maasai, I’m the cattle. Dumb as a doorknob, defenseless and in need of protection. I’m out of my depth in this environment. I’m two steps away from being a heap of bones.
But there’s a Maasai who knows what he’s doing. For him, lions are nothing and this is just a proverbial walk in the Amboseli Park.
Imagine that. Opening the door to the van and being greeted by a shepherd who knows what he’s doing. He tells you there are lions out here but you need not worry. Just stick close and you’ll be ok. When they’re around, I’d almost dare to get out of the vehicle just to feel what it’s like to be out there in the wild and unafraid. Like death were around but it had somehow lost its sting.
Wouldn’t that be something.
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