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By Frances Schultz

In June of 2009, twelve women, mostly New Yorkers, organized by Africa Foundation board member Krista Krieger, joined together for a safari in Tanzania. As demanding American travelers have come to expect, we enjoyed amazing game drives, bottomless glasses of wine around evening campfires, and excellent and unceasing meals, all served with cheerful and polished proficiency in the luxurious surroundings of the &Beyond company’s beautiful and thoughtfully conceived accommodations. Our trip was everything the idealized storybook version of Africa it was supposed to be—and more: Unlike many tourists, we also experienced the other Africa—the Africa that fights for its life everyday.

In the spirit of “responsible luxury travel,” the good news is that &Beyond and select other safari operators, cultivate and nurture relationships with the communities adjacent to their guest properties which are often in protected and ecologically sensitive areas. The arrangements vary from land use agreements to the mutual development of education, health care, and conservation programs. &Beyond supports these programs by contributing generously to &Beyond Foundation and America-affiliated Africa Foundation. We visited the communities nearby the &Beyond luxury camps and lodges we were privileged temporarily to call home. In addition to speaking with the people and playing with the children, we were sung to, danced for and welcomed warmly in places where the trappings of hospitality were as scant, and as abundant, as a smile. We saw for ourselves the hardship and the grace that is Africa. We also saw our own dollars — some we donated ourselves and some we helped raise from friends and supporters in back New York — put to use in bricks and mortar, equipment and educational programs. But with all they’re up against, you do leave wondering if it can ever change for the lasting good; and yet you yourself are changed for life. I am, anyway.

What follows here I think of as the scribblings of a grown-up, through the eyes of a child—both of whom are me. Neither the drawings nor the prose are sophisticated, but they are spontaneous and for the most part un-self-conscious. The drawings are done in seconds or minutes at most. There is something about looking directly at a thing, be it an animal or a landscape, that engages you in a way that looking at it through a camera does not. Moreover drawing the object you’re looking at somehow engages you in the essence of that object and in that very moment. And when I look at it that way, being “good” at it seems not so important.

5 June, on the way to Klein’s Camp We’ve landed safely at Kilimanjaro and spent the first night at the Arusha Coffee Lodge, which is smack in the middle of a coffee plantation.

6 June Next morning we set off by bush plane to Klein’s Camp, a private concession leased from the Masaai in the northeast corner of the Serengeti. No sooner have we tumbled from plane to Land Rover than we come across a large herd of elephant. Cows with calves — unusual to see in the open like this — and very calm. A big bull in the distance….

Riding along, we spot several species of antelope, a dazzle of zebra, giraffe, baboons and monkeys. We stop to watch a secretary bird amble through the bush like he owns it—and with good reason. Our guide Mike tells us about once seeing a secretary bird kicking and stomping the you know what out of a cobra….

And then we come across a pride of lions feasting on a fresh buffalo kill! It is amateurish to use exclamation points, but lord!

We’ve hardly been driving an hour and already seen more game than some people see in an entire week.

By the end of the day we also see more antelope, more birds, a herd of buffalo for heaven’s sake, a cheetah with a cub, a jackal, and a warthog or two. I mean, we’ve seen so much today that if we don’t see another measly impala, which are sort of Africa’s equivalent to pigeons, it is fine with me. Almost.

I like learning the Swahili words for the animals. Buffalo is “Nyati.” Our driver Kitoi says, “They never look happy.” That big one in the middle reminds me of my boyfriend when he is not happy. But mostly he is happy and very handsome.

We see a LOT of lion—“simba” in Swahili—more in two days than I’ve seen in my seven previous trips to Africa combined. This big, black-maned male is part of the pride we saw yesterday. Mike counted about 15 in all. There is another big male in this pride as well, but he’ll be kicked out at around age 3 to go through a very rough time for a couple of years until he can take over a pride of his own. Extending gene pools is a brutal business. On this morning we watch the pride finally finish with its buffalo kill and move off across the plain. The buzzards are thrilled, having been hanging around smacking their beaks for three days now.

A view of the Rift Valley from the porch of my “cottage” at Klein’s Camp. One afternoon I watch a small herd of elephant cross the wide, green plain. Another afternoon I watch the sky. I never tire of watching the African sky.

Heading back to camp in the dark after a long afternoon game drive, we see smoke in the distance… FIRE! Terrible visions of tiny village in flames…. mothers and children… We drive toward the source… Could be a trap… horrible men with machetes raping and robbing. Or worse… Or could be… dinner. A beautiful long table set in a clearing lit by glowing lanterns and fires roaring in big metal drums. Traditional Masaai red-checked shukas are draped over every chair, providing color and warmth. And the pork chops are delicious.

6 June, Clinic at Ololosokowan – Our first community visit. The &Beyond Foundation has a long established relationship with the village of Ololosokowan, and it is interesting to see projects in progress. The first is a clinic that must have a doctor in residence in order to function with the government’s blessing. The residence, in the rather cluttered drawing below, is under construction. In the months leading up to our trip, The New York Times ran a series of articles about the desperate plight of health care in rural (which is most of) Tanzania, particularly for mothers in childbirth.

At the Ololosokowan school there is a handover ceremony and tour of the new dining hall and kitchen built with funds from &Beyond and Africa Foundation (that’s us). In gratitude, the children have created a song and dance especially for us. It lasts about 72 hours, as these things do in Africa, but we love it.

Mr. Isiofio, dashing in his purple robes, holds forth with thanks and asks that we do not forget them. Later I show him his sketch and he gets a kick out of it.

At the ceremony the women sit on one side and the men on the other, all resplendent in their Masaai finery. I can’t take my eyes off the women. Afterward, the women all hotfoot it over to “Mamas,” their community-owned crafts market, where a shopping and haggling frenzy ensues. I still don’t know how they got all the purchases straight and everyone properly paid.

Nearby, “Hat Man,” who had attended the ceremony and tour of facilities, takes a siesta. I call him Hat Man because he wears a rather prominent hat sitting high up on his head. Not quite a pork pie and not quite a fedora, the look is more Fred McMurray than Masaai but nonetheless distinguishing.

We ford a river over a concrete dam sort of thing not much wider than our vehicle. Safari people say “vehicle.” The river is full of “mamba”—crocodiles. Crocodiles, we are told, can go for two years without eating because they can store so much fat in their tails. (Don’t even say it.) That does not mean they won’t eat. We are shall we say very attentive as we cross. This fellow is grinning and sunning on the bank while a stork fiddles around on a sand bar. Apparently crocodiles don’t eat storks. I don’t think anything eats storks. Too fishy.

Not too far from camp we pass by a small pool with hippos (“kiboko”) barely poking their little ears, eyes, and noses above the surface. They look fat and funny but they are fast and mean. Well, by “mean” I mean aggressive. They don’t consciously have it in for you. But still.

7 June, from Klein’s Camp to Grumeti Our trip is timed to coincide with the Great Migration of thousands and thousands of wildebeests and other beasts in search of water and grazing. When we are airborne, our pilot locates the thundering herds and we fly back and forth over them for several minutes. It really is something to see… Landing at Grumeti, we set off for our second camp in the southern Serengeti. The landscape here is different from that of Klein’s. The mountains are in the distance and the terrain is wide, flat savannah, an ocean of tall grass and acacia. We do not encounter the migration on the ground—yet—but we do see plenty of game.

9 June, Lukungu Primary School “Good morning, madam,” the students say in unison. “How are you today?” asks Ernest, a doctor and &Beyond Foundation staffer. “We are fine, sir.” When we ask, the children tell us they like to go to Grumeti. They like to play soccer. They want to be nurses, doctors, teachers, pilots…

Sometimes the water runs out. Another “JoJo” would alleviate that. Multiplication tables (above) and anatomy charts and maps are painted on the walls of nearly every building.

A teacher’s residence being built by &Beyond and Africa Foundation. Having someone live here will deter cattle and other animals that roam through the school grounds and destroy trees and generally make mischief.

Later the same day, Mbwarugu fishing village, Lake Victoria—The people of Mbwarugu fish and scrap for their existence on a sandy stretch of dirt at Lake Victoria’s edge. Maribu storks, very tall and gangly, wonder among the faded, painted fishing boats. A young man named Boyla has appointed himself my guide. As I stand to sketch, he tells me he is an orphan, 17, and “trying to get some monies for school.” AIDS and other afflictions have left Africa full of orphans and full of heartbreak. This is news to no one, but the experience of standing in it, touching and seeing it, is wrenching and visceral.

Serengeti Under Canvas is a true, mobile tented camp, like in the old days, but fancier. And very comfortable. Starched sheets, good pillows, Persian rugs, and gleaming brass samovars and basins for washing water. There are even en suite latrines with proper loos that flush. I don’t know how they manage that. I also don’t know what’s better than an outdoor shower. These are “bush style” showers, consisting of buckets slung over branches and filled with hot water upon request by our assigned “butlers.” Each year the camp is set up to be near the migration so guests may experience it up close and bestial. Or not. Gauging the migration is a bit of a hazard, and they were a bit off this year. The hearty ones among us brave a 3-hour drive to find it. It makes for a long, if spectacular, 12-hour day, and they are SO glad they did it. I was not one of the hearty ones that day and stayed in camp to read and chill. I am SO glad I did it…. The next morning I wake to watch the sunrise. Not something you’ll hear me say often. What echos in my mind are the words of Ernest the night before, after our last community visit. “What you see and experience here in this beautiful camp,” he said, “has all been created for you. But what you saw today, at Lukungu and Mbwarugu, is the real Africa. Please try to remember that when you leave us.”

10 June, Ngorongoro Crater Lodge We see a LOT of wildebeest. They are not the smartest. You can tell by looking at them.

I love a warthog. Even before “Lion King.” This little fellow is kneeling on his front legs to eat. Like he isn’t low enough to the ground already. The pink blobs in the background are pink flamingos, in case you couldn’t tell.

11 June, Ngorongoro Crater After a big night (ahem) at the fabulous Ngorongoro Crater Lodge, the morning game drive proves a bit of a struggle. (I’m just saying.) So imagine our surprise and relief when we circle around a water hole and head toward a grove of fever trees, and we all gasp at once… A beautiful long table is laid in the glade, with an abundantly spread buffet conjured from an impressive bush kitchen. The question, “How do you like your eggs?” goes a long way to curing a hangover.

Wendy and I sit together on the steps of the lodge to sketch the view. And yes the zebra are really there. You can tell they zebra, right? That vast amazing crater in the background cradles all of Africa.

Why don’t I have a drawing of a giraffe? I can’t believe I don’t have a giraffe. Next to elephants, they are my favorite. I can’t believe I didn’t draw a damn giraffe. Next time. But for now…

The End

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