During our time on safari we visited 3 countries (Zimbabwe, Zambia and Botswana) and stayed in 4 different camps. Each day included game drives; either one in the morning and another in the afternoon (with a break of several hours in between) or one long drive that lasted most of the day. We’d start out early (sometimes as early as 5:30 or 6:00) for breakfast, and then we’d pile in our trucks for the drive. The times are dictated of course by when the animals are out doing stuff (usually hunting or trying to avoid being hunted); most of the time in the middle of the day is Critter Siesta time.
Bush taxi
Our conveyance was an open pickup truck (usually a Land Rover or similar—amazingly tough vehicles!) with three tiered rows of seats behind the driver’s seat. There was a heavy frame around the seats, with a sturdy canvas roof, but the sides were all open. When we were watching the animals it would have been trivially easy for an elephant to reach in and grab a passenger, or for that matter for a lion to jump into the truck with us. Our guides told us to stay seated, not put our feet our arms outside the side of the passenger compartment or make any sudden movements, as the animals had gotten used to the profile of these vehicles and ignored them (and us, all soft and juicy, just a few feet away from them!) as along as the profile didn’t change. Not standing or waving our arms around apparently didn’t change the profile of the truck enough to alert the animals. They absolutely were aware of us, but amazingly, they totally ignored us even though we were only a few feet away, sometimes even making a huge racket as we crashed through the underbrush in pursuit of a close-up.
Nice kitty…
The thing that struck both Cathy and me is how different it is to be out in the bush where the animals are in their natural habitat, vs walking past them in a zoo. It becomes clear very quickly that the rules have changed. We are the ones out of our element; the animals don’t depend on us for anything except to be left alone.
And sitting in those open trucks sometimes less than 10 feet from a big damn carnivore with pointy bits everywhere, we very much also wanted to be left alone.
doormat; there is certainly an appropriate time (and good reason) to call out someone for being rude or insensitive. But to quote Foghorn Leghorn, “Boy, there’s a right way and a wrong way to do everything.” If I am rude to someone in response to their actions (which, in most cases, are simply unthinking), they are likely to become defensive and the situation escalates. Not what I would have wished for, had I taken a moment to reflect.
I’ll add to my list in future posts, but the first thing that pops up is that I yell at people when I’m driving. There’s a 
when he gets behind the wheel of his car. My close friend Tim Katke says that’s me; clearly he’s wrong because Goofy doesn’t have a beard. Anyhow, I know it’s silly, and whatever irritation I actually have passes almost immediately. Plus, the windows are up (in both cars, usually) so no one hears me.
Two stories to illustrate.
A couple of unrelated events that happened in the last week or so help me to illustrate what I mean by “living The Good Life.”
Last week I was in Fargo, North Dakota to do a workshop for a group of practitioners and watched an event unfold that, had I been directly involved rather than an observer would probably have annoyed me immensely. There was some construction in one of the main streets in Fargo that required traffic be merged from two lanes in both directions down to one lane in each, right at an intersection. Because there was only one lane now, turning left at that intersection from either direction was prohibited, as it would hold up traffic. Since the construction was only a few dozen yards, the obvious and logical choice if one needed to turn left would be to go through the intersection, turn around and come back from the opposite direction, or turn at the next intersection and cut back to the street a block or two later.
Of course, some bozo on a pickup truck (who unfortunately was first in line when the light turned) wanted to turn left and either was too stupid or stubborn to do the logical thing, and backed up the entire lane behind him while he waited for his opportunity to turn. Very inconsiderate.
About 5 or 6 vehicles behind him, another driver in a pickup blasted his horn the entire time in an apparent attempt to get the first driver to reconsider. Or maybe he thought the air pressure from his horn would push the other truck out of the way. Who knows. Anyhow, yet a third person, this time on a bicycle, got so peeved at the horn blower that he got off his bike and started toward the second truck, I guess to offer to do battle in an attempt to convince him to stop honking
I had just walked out of a drugstore where I had stopped to buy some water and watched this whole thing; the entire event probably unfolded in less than a minute. The light turned red, the front pickup finally made his left turn, the other pickup driver stopped honking and the bicycle guy (who had been unsuccessfully trying to get the attention of the annoyed driver), got back on his bike and took off, presumably to go do battle somewhere else.
So as I said, I wasn’t directly involved. But it’s clear that all the honking, threatening and stupidity didn’t change anything; the proximal cause (the first driver) didn’t change his behavior, the two other people got upset (and likely stayed annoyed for a while), and none of them acted in a way that improved anything. The cyclist never got the attention of the guy leaning on his horn, and the guy in the first pickup may even have been totally unaware anyone was honking at him, and was simply upset that he couldn’t turn when he wanted to. He eventually got to make his left turn and everyone went on about their business with slightly higher blood pressure and cortisol levels, all three of them having contributed in a small way to a world a little less pleasant to be in.
The other story was told to me by my friend Mark Elliott. He was on his way to work and took a side street to avoid a jammed intersection, and found the narrow street blocked by three guys offloading some drywall from a truck. He got out, walked past the three or four cars in front of him (also blocked by the delivery guys), and started helping them unload the drywall. He told me he could have been annoyed at the delay, but decided that he could in fact do something that would help alleviate the situation. I thought that was not only a nice thing to do, but absolutely brilliant. I’m sure the delivery guys weren’t happy at blocking traffic; they were just doing their job; the other drivers probably went from being irritated to being impressed by Mark’s gesture, and Mark got to get on with his commute a little faster. It cost him a little exercise (not a bad thing), he felt good about helping the delivery guys, and I am guessing he brightened the day of everyone who saw what he did. Way to go, Mark!
Two similar situations; two very different responses and outcomes. And while each event was only a few minutes long from beginning to end, it’s clear that one made the world just a little bit better. Mark’s gesture is a great example of taking a second or two to think it through, come to a conscious decision to contribute in a positive way, and then to act.
That’s what I mean by “living The Good Life.”