Reading (God bless the New Yorker), sitting by the pool for a while, a nice slow lunch, a nap and some TV because Emeco picks me up at 7:30 tonight to, naturally, be the first one at the airport for my flight that doesn't leave until 11:30. That flight arrives in Nairobi at 7:00 am and an hour later, I fly to Kilimanjaro Airport, leaving at 8:00 and arriving at 10:00 am Tuesday. I'll have the rest of the day to recover and, perhaps, do some very local exploring on my own. Then, Wednesday, my animal adventures begin.
If you've known me a long time, you know that my upbringing was a disappointment to me. Even when it was relatively normal, there was no physical contact between me and my mother, and my father, a dear man, was only slightly more tactile—he would rub my back to soothe me while migraines ravaged me. And then all though my adolescence, the house was empty. All I ever touched, all I ever felt love for and those from whom I always felt unconditional love were our animals. And from Jenny, Aleck, Sam Kitty, Spike, Bela and Leon, I learned to love all animals, to see the soul in all of them.
Not that long ago, I saw a film about a monastery in Tibet in which a cadre of passionate footballers (or cricketers, I can't remember) built a field in which to play, and I will never forget that movie because while building the playing field, the filmmaker shows a scene wherein a monk carefully protects a worm from being hurt in the process of construction, gently moving it to safe territory. The scene resonated with me because I always do that—I rescue worms from trips across pavement deserts.
So like a Hindu, animals are my Gods and on Wednesday, I will start seeing the animals of children's stories and zoos, but in their homes. I am excited about what I think the next few weeks will be. Goodbye Egypt.
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