COMING HOME ON SAFARI
By Joanne Maisano
T
he pilot finally announced that we would be landing in Nairobi in 20 minutes. I was sitting by the window in the darkened aircraft looking out at nothing but darkness. As I stared down at the lights, becoming closer as we neared our destination, I had the most peculiar feeling that I had been to this place before. I couldn’t see any buildings or lights from cars on the highways, just blurs of something. But the feeling kept growing stronger. There was no explanation that I could rationalize, but it was there. I was arriving home. I was pulled away from my thoughts when the cabin lights were turned on and the chaos of getting off the plane began. As I looked down from the top step, I was amazed at the number of personnel waiting to do whatever
they do when a plane lands. They all wore blue jumpsuits and had the widest, whitest smiles I’d ever seen. That look captured the country of Kenya as it transmitted the warmth of the people and the joy of seeing us arrive. We were met by the welcoming crew from African Quest and whisked off to our hotel where we were served delicious fruit drinks and received instructions regarding our flight to Amboseli National Park in the morning. Leaving Wilson Airport we encountered low-hanging clouds, unfortunately blocking our view of Mt. Kilimanjaro. We checked into our lodge, and our guide, Ernest, assured us that we would see the mountain that morning. He took us out on a well-traveled road before making a sharp right onto a two-track path. We were preoccupied with the zebras and warthogs on the left when Ernest suggested we all look to the right. Standing there alone in its pristine glory was Kili.
It seemed like it was five minutes before a word was spoken. My brother Tom turned to his wife and said, “It looks as if God was walking around the world with Kili in his hands looking for a beautiful spot to place him and selected this one.” Dad mentioned that the beautiful green grass came courtesy of Kili. That snow on top constantly melts, supplying fresh water to the animals and people for miles. “Thanks be to God.” We took our eyes off Kilimanjaro, and ½ mile in front of us and heading exactly in our direction was a huge herd of elephants marching briskly in an almost military formation. We asked Ernest if we should get out of this area quickly. He said, “No, this is an experience you will never regret. Try to count the number passing.” There were elephants to the right of us,
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