Countdown to Kenya - Day Seven

A zebra charges Kenya Wildlife Service rangers at a ranch west of Nairobi on July 30, 2007. The rangers are relocating some 2,000 animals, including hundreds of zebra and impala, from this ranch and two other locations to Meru National Park, which has been devastated by poaching.

Photograph by Boniface Mwangi/Reuters

My thanks to National Geographic for this update from 2007. I saw this photo and it just made me laugh. I suppose being chased by a wild animal is not anything to laugh about, but at the same time, the fact that they can be chased by a wild animal, that there are still zebras to see in this world, can bring a smile to my face.

I've been browsing photos for pictures of Meru in particular and Kenya in a broader context. I'm experiencing culture shock in bits and pieces as I try to imagine myself inside these photos. A photo of a bus station in nearby Nanyuki looked so foreign to me that I almost could not imagine the sights and sounds and smells of the place.

I guess I don't want to admit to being a sheltered American. I've traveled, after all, and visited places all over the United States, Europe, and Canada. But the closest I've come to this kind of poverty was in Mexico when I was a kid - crossing over the Rio Grande from El Paso. It was so exotic and third world feeling that I admit to not liking it at all. Give me the sanitized street scenes of Morocco at Disney World any day. Let me marvel at the spectacle of Neunshwanstein in Germany. Pierce my soul with the haunting beauty of the Pieta in the Vatican. Don't let me get dirty in the slums of a distant country. Don't put me in harms way around people that don't look or act or talk like me. And definitely don't make me eat their strange food.

At heart, I guess I'm just an armchair adventurer. I want the thrill and excitement of Indiana Jones without all the muss and fuss of actually experiencing the foreignness of a place. I like Panda Express. I hate Chinatown. I like Taco Bell. I hate the Mission District. I have a hard time leaving my comfort zone. So much for being an anthropologist.

To be fair, it can be incredibly uncomfortable going to a new place and meeting new people. I have actually a fairly good track record when it comes to stepping out on my own and seeking adventure. Through the Navy and beyond, I've lived and worked in many places around the country and I've always adapted to the location that I've gone. My "reaction" to these locations is more a sign of my fear and anxiety about the unknown. Once I'm there and once I get to know a place, I quickly become a native.

I didn't know squat about Hawaii when I arrived (and talk about a foreign country ;) but within six months I was comfortable enough to walk 15 miles from my base to my apartment at night - just to see if I could do it. I may hate change and I may love the known a little too much, but I'm perfectly capable of thriving in a foreign setting.

I look at pictures of Kenya and I see a dirty, dusty, backwards town that scares the heck out of me (somewhat because of how Disney-esque it really looks ;) and then I think of what I'm being called to do and I just know that I will fall in love with Kenya. Fear is always irrational in the end.