a lot of miles

Directions for most of Zambia's loveliest spots involve references to dirt roads, termite mounds or ambiguously marked signs, so I was not as nervous as I should have been to set off with "an hour or so past Chingola, you will reach a fork in the road; turn left. The road from there is very bad, but you will eventually see a sign for the place along that road" as my only guide.
I was looking for a weekend adventure and settled on a search for Chimfunshi, a chimpanzee retreat and orphanage near the Democratic Republic of Congo border with rumors of a free-range pet hippo. En route, I purchased a few supplies for the night and followed the directions as closely as such ambiguity allowed.
I was beyond excited to actually find a sign simply marked "chimps!", so I eagerly said "yes" to every question asked at check in.
Would you like to see the afternoon chimp feeding time, today? Yes. Would you like to stay the night? Yes. Would you like to go on the morning bush walk? Yes.
Sixteen hours later, I stood on inside of a chimpanzee enclosure in a men's blue jumpsuit covered in pockets stuffed with scrapes of bread while tentatively waiting for four adult chimps to join me on my morning walk. I quickly forgot my morning lamentations over strict regulations against cameras, as the chimps were released and walked assuredly on four limbs at us, reaching out to dig into our pockets, sit before us and munch away. It was unsettling to be so close to such a combination of animal and eerily human-like movements.
For the next few hours, I moved through a parallel universe where people interact with chimpanzees naturally. They freely reached into my pockets, taking the bread meant for them; I, slowly and hesitantly, reached out to pet their heads seated before me.
We held hands, I promptly stepped in fire ants and held my leg out to express my dismay, the matron chimp pulled my pants leg to her mouth and meticulously ate each ant. I sat with an older chimp in the midst of the forest while he held out his hand, reached for mine and began to gently scrape my palm with his nail, checking to be sure the freckles were not disguised insects. He gently scraped off all the leaves and twigs from every inch of my work suit.
Without being able to account for how much of the morning had gone, I was suddenly tossed back to the beginning, crawling through a metal gate and back into the world where chimpanzees and people are properly separated and live irrevocably separate lives.