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How to be an adventurer

This week I learned what it means when a rich person tells you that they went on safari in Africa and camped out in a tent in the wilderness where they could hear wild animals howling while they sleep.

It means they paid several hundred dollars a night to stay poolside in the equivalent of a 5 star hotel room that just happens to be made of canvas, though it's encased in another structure, under a roof, and in a resort filled with non-indigiounous plants imported to make it look Jungley, all behind an electric fence to keep out scary animals.

Now, the real adventurers, we jump on a Matatu with about 40 other people, and have Masai sitting on our lap as it heads further and further into the middle of nowhere, and finally stops at a little row of buildings where local villagers go to buy goats, rent a 3 dollar room behind one of the local bars.

Then, in the morning, we WALK OUT into the MOTHERFREAKING MASAI MARA with nothing but our camera for 7 hours, wander around with zebras and giraffes, try to blend in with the antelopes by walking on all fours and eating grass, play dead to attract vultures, and hang out at a recent giraffe kill to video all the hyenas and bat eared foxes scavenging.

And when we do end up on a touristy Hot Air Balloon ride over the savannah, your zoologist sister ends up spotting a hyena carcass, and convinces the guide to send all the tourists away so that we can CUT THE MOTHERFREAKING HEAD OFF and take it to the hyena research team for study.

Oh hell yes. I am IN IT. Watching lions rip up wildebeests, everything.

I just got back to the city, I leave in the morning for Kilimanjaro.