On we ride, encountering several different groups of zebras and giraffes as well as impalas and warthogs. I'm so caught up in where we are and what we're seeing and how close we're getting to the animals that lions have dropped off my mental radar.
Finally Dida leads me to the edge of a watering hole, where four giraffes have come to drink. It's comical to see these gangly creatures splay their legs out to the side, lowering their bodies close to the ground, then extending their long necks down to the water. It's a bit like watching Shaquille O'Neal squeezing into the backseat of a MINI Cooper.
Giraffes are usually skittish in this vulnerable drinking position, but today they seem unruffled. The same can't be said for the horses. The giraffe contortions spook Barrow Boy. He rears up, spins, and is ready to run. Dida reaches from his horse to grab my reins near the bit to hold my mount's head down. Barrow Boy keeps trying to get away, and both horses are now spinning and prancing.
I quickly grab the reins and pull a full Hemingway, shouting, "Yee-haw! I've got it! Let him go!" You don't get that kind of excitement sitting in the back of a Jeep.
On my second night, I transfer from the Honeymoon Suite to one of Loisaba's remote Star Bed accommodations. Moses Lesoimara, a 20-year-old Samburu warrior, sits with me outside by the fire and pulls me deeper into the magic of Africa with songs and stories of tribal life. Accompanying himself on the nchamonge, a traditional homemade six-string instrument, Moses sings for me.
"What's that about?" I ask.
"It's an old song from my father's time about stealing cattle," he answers.
"Do the young Samburu have any new songs in their language they like to sing?"
"Yes, this one about AIDS is very popular. It speaks of the disease for which there is no cure and talks about the need to have only one wife and to practice safe sex." As he sings this contemporary number, I can't help but compare it to the carefree love songs of my youth. "I Want to Hold Your Hand" seems like a century ago.
My Star Bed cottage is built up high on stilts on a hillside overlooking a valley. The side walls connect to a back wall that's really a granite boulder embedded in the hill. There's a thatched roof, but the front end is completely open to the elements.
My bed rests on a car axle with two tires. I lift the end and roll the bed onto the deck, where it has an unobstructed view of Kenya's brilliant night sky. The stars are so bright that I can see animals approaching the watering hole in the valley below.
Lying back, I look out to the Southern Cross on the horizon and then up to Orion's Belt, thinking, "If I lived here, I'd have to learn more constellations."
And then I reflect on my day and realize the truth of Hemingway's words, that in Africa you have to be a participant in life, not just a spectator. So I fall asleep dreaming of tomorrow, when I will begin my walking safari in Kenya. But that's a story for another time.
