The man at the Virgin check in counter was shaking his head as my traveling companion turned to me imploringly. Oh God! Apparently there was a problem with her ticket. How did I end up here?
This was not a good start to my long held dream of going to Africa. Ever since I was a child of age 6 shedding tears over the death of Kimba’s mother, deserting a promising ballet career to watch it, I'd had a fascination for Africa. Now that dream looked in jeopardy.
We had gone to Sydney, stayed in a crappy motel near the airport overnight, gotten up early, arrived at the airport three hours before our flight excited and feeling superior for being so organised. We were both students of alchemy. In fact it's the reason we were going. If we couldn't turn this around..?!!!?
Alchemy is the process of turning the lead of consciousness into gold and this situation required some considerable turning around. Alchemy requires acknowledging your current situation, holding an outcome that you'd love and taking obvious action.
We would be studying the principles of alchemy under African skies. We both individually felt it was true to go. Now it looked like our intuition might have deceived us. But nothing was going to stop me from making this trip if I could help it. So being good students of alchemy we focused on what our intuition had said. We were going to Africa. I held the vision of us boarding the plane for Africa while my friend rang around for help. Rapidly things began moving and we boarded on time and took off for Africa.
The resort in Johannesburg was like a pale imitation of Vegas but with heavy security and guns and not what I'd come to see. As we arrived our friends from the previous trip greeted us with glazed eyes and exhaustedly mumbled "Fantastic!" I was beginning to wonder what I was letting myself in for. I couldn't wait to get out into the 'wilds' to be amongst the people and animals.But there was more to get through first.
Riding in the back of the van to several of our destinations we saw shanty towns, markets and people on the roadside. On one trip our companions told us of seeing an accident on a previous trip. I prayed that we didn't. The border crossings were a stressful enough event in themselves. We were warned "Do exactly as you're asked and don't stray from the plan. We need to get in and out without incident." Thankfully we did!
One of the highlights of our stay was Malendelas in Swaziland. It was a unique experience with an odd assortment of rooms, buildings, Art Deco structures and beautiful grounds with a few animals wandering around the pool and restaurant. There we played a murder game. We had to start dying spontaneously and when my turn came I was to be killed by vampires. The other guests at the restaurant hardly batted an eye as I ran across the grass screaming and dying dramatically while my fellow travellers rolled around laughing.
As part of our cultural tour we got to visit a family and attend a traditional Swazi wedding. Along the way we came across a group of women washing clothes surrounded by babies and children. We walked down towards them and here I had the magical experience of holding an African baby for the first time. The baby snuggled into me snuffling and sleepy as soon as his mother gave him to me. I felt my heart melt and felt myself arrive fully in Africa. African children were to become instrumental in my transformative experience of Africa.
Because of William, our Safari facilitator, we were privileged enough to be invited to a Swazi wedding. In Swaziland there is an event called the Reed dance where thousands of girls come to dance for the King with the possibility of becoming one of his wives. When we attended the Swazi wedding some of the girls who were going to the Reed Dance were there. Topless they stood laughing as they videoed us videoing them. It was a sacred experience being included in an African wedding ceremony and lots of fun as we watched them dancing, celebrating and chatting.
William represented us in the event by taking a gift to the happy couple. We were offered a traditional drink to taste which was milky, watery and very strong in alcohol and then we were encouraged to dance. Our African tour guide was approached by two men in tribal dress who raced over and thrust their spears at him menacingly. We held our breath but he just laughed and said "They're mates of mine."
We felt so welcome! When we walked past the Kings wives I put my hand over my red hat and waved at them in a comical way. They just laughed back. I'm not sure if I was meant to do that. But they seemed delighted. This delight and laughter continued on our trip.
On the way to one of our destinations we stopped at a market. I wandered around and spotted three girls laughing playing cards. Or rather I think they saw ME coming. As I made my way over to them they smiled and giggled. They gestured to ask if I wanted to play. I said yes and we rapidly became co-conspirators in taking my money from me. They made a feeble attempt to let me win one round before going in for the kill in the second round. We all laughed at my loss as I made my way to lunch.
Our trip to watch the sugar cane burning was an eventful evening. Being squashed in the middle of the sugar cane in jeeps waiting for them to light the fires felt a little suffocating. But watching the sugar cane go up in flames was a satisfying experience and felt like the release of something. I was here after all to transform.
My real transformation came at Mbuluzi however. Arriving at the tented lodges of Mbuluzi I could hear the oogh oogh of the baboons across the creek. I felt instantly at home somehow. One morning as I made breakfast at the sink I noticed a visitor with a rather long neck, huge eyes and long lashes peering in the window at me. I fell in love. It was one of the many giraffes wandering the grounds. Beneath the gaze of it's innocence and tranquility I felt myself fall in sync with the natural rhythm of the place. I loved taking outdoor showers under the sun and moon, riding in the jeeps and walking along dusty paths spotting the animals. Despite this serenity an even deeper experience was to emerge for me.
He was about 11, orphaned and living in the bush. He looked into the distance from behind the wire fence of the safe house and I wondered if he was envisioning a better future for himself. I'd seen him shortly after we arrived at the safe house for pre school aged children, mostly orphans, whose parents had died of AIDS or been taken by crocodiles. As we got closer I was expecting to see sadness etched on the faces of these orphans who nearly all lived in the bush. But they were happy and smiling. We discussed with the Minister and Principal what we could do for these kids, who only ate a handful of grain each day and were badly in need of more clothing, food and water. This boy in particular stood out for me. He was handsome, strong and proud looking and had determination in his eyes. I wondered if there was anything I could do to help him realise the dream I thought I could see in his eyes. That was the start of something for me. Though not fully realised yet it ignited a desire in me to become an advocate in some way for children such as him. Leaving there has not faded the memory of that boy from my mind.
The sensuality, the drums beats and the laughter of Africa remain with me as well. I remember the first time I saw a lion at Sabi Sands. It was a metre from our jeep and as it stared straight into my eyes I felt a zing go through me that I'll never forget. The beauty of a leopard we tracked as she followed the scent of a male leopard. The elephants brushing our jeep with their ears as they walked past. The cheeky monkeys. Oh those monkeys!
The monkeys hatched a clever plan one day. I was luxuriating in the splendour of our cabin relishing the outdoor shower surrounded by a bricked courtyard. Coming inside I saw a monkey perched on a tree and was lured into going outside. As I went out to investigate my flatmate was making her way back towards the cabin. She called out "Don't leave the door open! Something might get in." I left it open long enough for her to go inside saying how cute the monkey’s were, but froze mid sentence as she let out a scream. I ran inside to see her screams turn to laughter as a monkey scampered out the door with some of our sugar. She suggested the cute monkey was the thieving monkey’s accomplice in luring me out. I had to agree.
We couldn’t forget this was a wild place however as we had to be escorted to our rooms at night by a guard with a rifle. We found out later that a man had been killed in our lodge by a hyena seeking food when he fell asleep and left the door open. Apparently the hyena had come in and started eating off the tray he had on his lap. This startled him awake and in frightening the hyena he was killed.
Lions sometimes roamed outside the park gates as well and one night two came into the grounds and rested for the night under someone's cabin. I felt safe despite the danger as we were under expert care as long as we followed the rules. The drivers and trackers were experienced which we were grateful for despite ducking for cover as we bush bashed in jeeps racing to find the next game. When tracking a leopard one day our tracker climbed down and wandered out of sight from us as he followed the scent and markings of the leopard. We were relieved when he returned as much for our sake as his.
Everyday we stopped in the middle of our three hour safari for morning and afternoon tea. We sipped tea by waterholes with elephants or hippo close by. We stayed away from the edge to avoid the crocodiles. Despite the danger I've never felt more alive than I did on these safaris as it brought me back to my essential nature. The nature of the workshop we were doing was designed to bring us back to ourselves, what we loved and what was true for us. Doing this was made all the more powerful for being in Africa. During the day the inner adventure of the workshop took me deeper and deeper in to myself and our outer adventure of safaris, luxurious food and African cultural experiences deepened the process. In the evenings we sat outside under the stars in a circular eating area and fire pit lit by candles where we were treated to some of the best food I'd ever had. I remember the chocolate mousse in particular and my friend sitting next to me offering to help me finish it. I declined.
Rhythmical African singing and drum beats stopped us mid conversation one night. William had arranged for a local group to come and sing and dance for us. They were wonderful. The music and singing made me want to get up and dance and though several people were pulled up I wasn't and I felt too shy to ask for myself. We laughed and cheered as our friends awkwardly and sometimes proficiently moved along with the African dancers. I felt some relief mixed with my disappointment at not getting to dance. Little did I know I would get my chance.
Our last night arrived all too soon and though we knew something was coming we didn't know exactly what. Then the chanting and drumming began. I felt a rush go through me and the hairs on my arms stand on end as a group of young males in African dress emerged out of the darkness, smoke and softly falling rain, dancing as the drums beat. They were followed closely by a group of beautiful young women. It was so electrifying. As a gift for our last night William had arranged for a dance troupe to come and perform for us. We were all nervous and excited as they came close to us. People from our group were pulled up one by one. Finally I was pulled into a group dance, slightly self conscious but happy to be dancing in Africa.The Africans had no issue with expressing their sexuality as the guys danced suggestively in front of us. To them it was as natural as breathing, innocent, sensual and fun all at the same time. As for me, while I got a glimpse of myself and my future as I would love it to be, I still have a way to go.
Despite this two years later I am much closer than I ever was to being freer in my self expression. I still follow the principles of alchemy having been shown the depth of experiencing them in Africa. The Soul Safari was a wonderful experience. I would love to return to Africa, the beautiful people, the African babies, the drum beats, the lions, the dancing and the giraffes.
South Africa and Swaziland are full of beautiful people and it is so different to how we live it would be easy to judge it as less in some way. I feel for the orphaned children living in the bush but can't help remark that their lack of the extras seems to make them happy In a way we often lack in the west. They're not searching for the next big thing. They don't know it exists. Of all my lush and luxurious experiences in Africa meeting the Swazi kids was the most rewarding of all. I am hoping the boy I saw at Mbuluzi will still be there. I hope he is not one of the victims of aids. He and the other children at the Mbuluzi safe house unknowingly helped me to ignite a link to my future. They were such a transformative part of my experience. I am going to return someday on safari and hopefully visit them again. I am holding my vision of that and planning it. Even as I write it’s set in motion.
