Well……. it’s always about us and what we’ve seen but let’s talk about you for a change. The impact you make on our lives.
Let’s give an example…..
G: “Can you please wake us up at 04.45? We would like to do yoga.”
O (eyebrows raised): “Come again, please?”
G: “Please wake us up at 04.45, we would like to do yoga at the parade-ground.”
O (Clearing throat): “ Sure, but it will still be dark and therefore a bit dangerous”
G (disappointed): “Oh”
O (always service minded) : “Tell you what, we’ll get the Maasai to stand guard and we’ll put some extra Mining-lamps around”
G: “Oh, thank you!”
O (to Maasai): “Sasa,……..” and then trying to explain Yoga in KiSwahili to Maasai…
Maasai (with big eyes): “tongue-click”
To make sure everything is going all-right I put my I-pod alarm at 04.45. I turn on my sleep-timer at 30 min. And fall asleep. I wake up by music, get out, shower and get dressed. Grumbling I walk down and off course see no Maasai. No problem anyway, I can keep watch. I go into the kitchen to make some coffee and by chance I look at the clock……it is 01.22!!! My sleep-timer hadn’t stopped and kept on playing, waking me up and me (hearing the music) believing it was 04.45.
Grumble….Back to bed.
04.45 again. Out again and again making coffee. Of course the guests come at 05.30 but who am I?
I’m good into my 2nd coffee when I hear this strange noise…. It’s like in the distance somebody is shouting, being killed!!!
I look around trying to figure out where it is coming from only to find out that a guy is shouting on the tunes in some Sitar music from a docking-station on the parade ground.
I shake my head and wonder what is next. Do I have to start putting hot stones on somebody’s back? Only drink herbal fusions? Stop smoking? Colonic irrigation? Shave my legs?
Clearly two people on holiday and definitely making their own. Departure time is 06.15 and (after I woke up at 05.00, prepared the breakfast box, and preparing my own coffee) they don’t show up. 06.30 I go to see if they’re awake. NOT!! And, by the way, they want to sleep in and come down for breakfast, or maybe not.
They appeared at lunchtime and during lunch they, with another couple, decide to stay in and that the mission for the afternoon was to develop a new cocktail………
O: “but we have great cocktails”
G: “name one”
Shees… where is Simba when you need him??
O: “ uhh, Lilac Breasted Roller”
G: “What’s innit?”
O: “ uhh, something blue, something green and something red” I don’t know because It’s Simba’s and Walter’s speciality and I don’t really drink cocktails but it’s the colours of the bird.
G: “Nonsense, my boy! We’re going to make a marketable BehoBeho cocktail.”
G2: “first we need to get a catchy name” she says, “and then we’ll decide what’s in it”
G4: “Yes! We’ll get a bunch of names, choose 4 catchy ones and then every-one of us will have to create a fitting cocktail and the best one we’ll market”
Killer Kuduwas one, Hot Hippo another and I left, shaking my head, after the Gyrating Giraffe. Don’t even want to know what’s in it…..
Back to the office where there was some paperwork to be done, e-mails to be answered and other very important work. A couple of hours later a plane lands. Heribert goes to have a look. A little later he radioes in to announce he’s coming in with three guests.
Hmmm….. We weren’t expecting anybody until tomorrow.
As the guests walk in they are greeted by a jolly, broadly smiling, petite Chinese-looking Canadian offering them from behind the bar a Bubbling Blue Ball Baboon. The guests, who by the way were Charlie (the owner), his wife and Sean (our operations manager) look at me……..
“Ah, well, l can explain” I say scratching my head.
I groan….I know what they are thinking…. Walter and Karin had just gone on their leave and Onno is looking after the place? Not good, definitely not good!
This is some time ago at another camp where I was guiding/managing.
It’s seven in the evening and we are sitting around a table having a sun-downer. We being Molly, one of the best guides I know and working for the camp next door, Micol his (then) girlfriend and at the time my Assistant Manager and me.
It’s fun and we’re having a good time, just a bunch of bush-crazy people together telling stories and making jokes about, I don’t know, let’s say birds. Would I have done that in Holland then I would have been considered a nerd.
But here it seemed normal. I had just returned with three Kili’s when we hear this sound. It sounded like “woaa aa a”. We looked at each other and tried to give name to the sound.
“Baboon alarm call” I ventured looking at Molly? He shakes his head, he doesn’t know.
“WOHAAHA HAA AA”
Hippo maybe? They can make some really strange sounds. But still it doesn’t feel right.
We jump up and start running. It sounded human now and I had visions of a guest being attacked by, I don’t know, Black Mamba, crocodile, whatever!!!
We run in the direction where we think it came from, in the act picking up three Maasai watchmen and running towards tent number 8.
We took a short-cut through the laundry and as we come around the corner we hear
“AH AH AHHA HA HAAAA”
We grind to a halt, it dawned to us what was going on. It came from a tent occupied by quite a loud Italian couple and we understood what that sound meant but….. too late to stop the Maasai.
They jumped into the tent, spears and sticks and all………..
We softly turned around and walked back to our table grinning and giggling….. I mean….just picture it……Maasai-us Interuptus