simba

Well it finally happened - it was bound to. Sooner or later an encounter would succumb to the torment of defeat. My defenses were lazy, my guard napping on the floor – habit brings us all down in the end. I was stung by a scorpion. It was no ordinary stinging either. I’m consistent with my alerted regard to rocks, logs, and piles of junk, but this, this was a well played moment for the scorpion. He sat nestled inside my swimming suit that was hanging up outside our tent. I gave it a half hearted shake when I took it down - flipped it over and untwisted it, but still he did not reveal himself. So I put it on. There was a thorn in my arm that I had started to remove when I felt another stabbing in my chest. Another thorn I hypothesized, but my investigations uncovered a scorpion as it dropped to the floor and suddenly the stinging intensified with the realization of its source.

We are now the proud recipients of a refrigerator and a couple of puppies - all inherited from a nearby camp across the river that folded. So far the refrigerator has provided us with amazing and interesting things called cold drinks. Don’t worry about the charcoal fridge - we are not fair weather fans. It still provides adequate cooling to extend the life of our vegetables while making room in the real deal for really cold drinks. I can’t smile enough at breakfast time while sipping on a glass of orange juice that does not taste like the fermenting sun. The puppies, Monster and Bucket – already named, not our call – have become excellent baboon chasers. So far we haven’t had a reoccurrence of the vervet monkeys in Nakuru and we’d like to keep it that way. The Maasai do not share the same sentiment for their dogs that we are accustomed to in America. We began to feel bad about taking them because in hindsight we both thought we saw an expression of sadness in the watchman’s face when we carried them away. So we brought them back retched with guilt and asked him if he really wanted to keep the dogs. He pretty much laughed in our face at the suggestion of him having affection for the animals – I guess we misread that one. Good thing too because Bucket and Monster didn’t seem too keen on the idea either. They ran away from every one left in the camp which led us to believe that there never was any love between them.

I will now lead everyone in a round of applause for Paul who has successfully collared another lion! My role was pivotal – I kept an eye out for the other lion who was roaring in the distance. I was also the photographer, but instead of showing you any of my fabulous work, I’m posting the picture where I gathered up all of my courage and squatted behind the sleeping giant. Logic is a very stubborn thing and it was really hard to convince myself that he was indeed sleeping. I had envisioned petting him before the incident took place, I think I may have touched one or two hairs in his mane, but the wind could quite possibly take the credit for that. Everything went smoothly and within a couple of hours he woke up, walked a little bit, and then laid back down. Lazy boy – we stayed with him until we were sure that the drugs had worn off and he kept us out until 4:30 in the morning when he finally felt like moving again. Three zebras walked right past him when he first woke up and he lifted his head to regard them casually. Sure, kick a man while he’s down.