I have met a lot of interesting cultures over the years, but the Masai seem to stick out in my mind. They are one of the last remaining primitive tribes in Africa, and despite having some very curious traditions, they are very warm and welcoming.

My first meeting was an invitation from the women of the nearby village. They had been taught how to grow vegetables, and the garden they created in only one year was remarkable. Everything from tomatoes to cabbage, corn and onions were being nurtured into colossal proportions in this fertile land, shielded by sturdy fences from elephants, wildebeest and many other typical neighborhood creatures. As I arrived, the women greeted me with a welcome song and when I demonstrated my talent at creating some of the same vocalizations, they rushed at me with laughter and screams of “mzungu masai,” or “white masai” – for those of you not fluent in Swahili. It was an incredible morning punctuated with the women wanting to give me a gift of a giant head of lettuce. One I had to unfortunately decline, but the moment was extraordinary none the less.

After leaving the garden, I headed to one of the family corrals, where I had the chance to meet some warriors and go inside a manyatta. The small, smoke-filled hut had me instantly claustrophobic yet still fascinated, although I was not going to drink the chai tea with goat’s milk being offered. The entire village had turned out to meet the visiting mzungu, and I was overwhelmed with their welcome, but the finishing touch was when I was presented with a traditional beaded bracelet as a gift.
These are uncomplicated people. They do not measure time with a watch or show much emotion. They are content with their existence and fiercely proud of tradition and customs. They live a meager existence and yet are some of the most resilient people on our planet. Most importantly perhaps, they measure success not by bank accounts and big houses, but by family and herds of cattle and goats.

Reprinted from my blog at a national travel magazine

I just came back from Tanzania in East Africa, where I had the chance to check off one of the items from my “bucket list” (if you remember back to a blog I did earlier this year). What an amazing sight! The Great Migration of wildebeest and zebra is absolutely breathtaking, and the people are so warm and friendly.

My first lodge was the Serengeti Under Canvas, owned and operated by CCAfrica. This was a first-class experience with butler service and gourmet meals, but the best part was sleeping in my luxury tent (and I mean LUXURY!) while hearing the Great Migration taking place not too far away. I have been in the African bush before, but this was different. It is something I recommend that anyone who loves wildlife do at least once. It is something that you will never forget.

My second abode was the Ngorongoro Crater Lodge, which sits right on the rim of the crater. The crater itself is a World Heritage site and is believed to actually have been higher than Kilimanjaro before it erupted millions of years ago. This is a completely different landscape from the Serengeti, but it is actually still part of the Serengeti/Mara ecosystem. The lodge itself is stunning, and each 5-star chalet is well-appointed. The coup de gras for me was a lovely touch – after spending the entire morning on the crater floor, we returned for a fabulous lunch in the lodge, and upon returning to the room, I found the free-standing tub full with a bubble bath and rose petals. Talk about room service!

I want to give a shout out to my new friends, Asheri and his team from Under Canvas and Beata and her team from the Crater Lodge. I miss you all terribly! I also want to thank the fabulous Ian Procter from Ultimate Africa Safaris in Washington for his help with all the last-minute plans. If any of you get the chance to visit the wonderful country of Tanzania, give Ian a call! – he is my hero

Reprinted from my blog at a national magazine

I have been coming to South Africa regularly for over fifteen years now, but have been coming here in my dreams since childhood. As American children, we hear bedtime stories of elephants and lions, giraffes and zebra and are told that somewhere far off in the world there is a real place where they live. As adults we discover that it is a troubled place and always has been, but then in today’s world, what place isn’t? You see, there is heartache and beauty around every corner.

Africa is a continent that bewilders most, but if you look deeper than today’s headline news you will see a land that has weathered the centuries like a grand lady. In one of the native languages the “magogo” comes to mind. Grandma or grand old lady, and that is what she is; the cradle of humankind.

In South Africa there are too many places to experience to name in this short blog, but if you ever get the chance to come here (and I highly suggest you do) get out of the city and head for anywhere. Just a short drive from Johannesburg or Pretoria is a little jewel called Sun City. It is a resort town bordering on Pilanesberg National Park. You can choose to stay in accommodations from two to five star in this beautiful little man made resort enclave nestled in the countryside and wile away the hours by the pool, take in a little gambling, eat at wonderful restaurants or even play golf at a Gary Player course. One of the best parts, however, is the location. Being right next to the national park you can take a game drive or even drive your own vehicle in. Either way it is something you really must do. You will most likely see all of the fantastic creatures you fell asleep to hearing about in those storybooks as a child, and believe me, it never gets old.

Wherever you choose to go to in this part of the world, you will experience a lot coming at your senses. The sounds, smells and tastes of Africa. Storybooks or television shows do not do it justice, but remember you will have to leave your preconceived notions at the border. Things are not done in your time frame; they are done on African time. In fact, they have a saying here when things get a little tough: “Welcome to Africa!” So relax, accept life as it is here. Meet the people, see the countryside, visit the far-off land of your childhood dreams. Unfortunately, I have to go now, but I will back again soon and I hope to see more of my Americans here someday. But, in the meantime, do me a small favor: when you get here, please send “Magogo” my love.

Reprinted from my blog at a national travel magazine

This week I am on the road; well so to speak. I flew to Johannesburg, South Africa Monday night out of Los Angeles International Airport, and I’ve taken this route through London many times. In fact, sometimes 2-3 times a year. Now, I must tell you that I have traveled around the world much like most of you reading this, but I have never had quite an experience as I did this week.

When they asked us to start arriving 3 hours prior to departure for international flights after 9/11, I completely understood. I didn’t like it, but I understood. When they asked us to start taking off our shoes, I was annoyed, but I understood. When they asked us to leave our liquids at home or in our checked baggage I groaned, but once again, I forced myself to understand. We are a society afraid of everything and sure of nothing. Up until now, I have understood, but something seems to have snapped somewhere and I am wondering how much more we can take before we as travelers begin to snap ourselves.

First of all, it took an hour and a half to check in with the airline, but to their credit they did a fantastic job trying to sort through a full flight. So far, so good, but then of course comes the security line. I always have my laptop easily accessible and I only wear slip-on shoes for convenience, but this time none of that mattered. At Terminal 2, the security line was out the door and down the street. Okay, three international flights leaving at the same time from a terminal not built to handle the traffic; I get it. What I don’t understand is stupidity! Three international flights leaving at the same time and THREE open security lanes out of six available. TWO airport personnel checking passports and boarding passes at the end of the line, and a partridge in a pear tree.

Where is the sanity? We all realize that the fun has been taken out of travel, or at least the journey. Granny subjected to frisking, buying new toiletries in every city, barefoot on cold, dirty floors and more all in the name of national security, but what is next? Four hour check-in times, five hours? Missed flights and fist fights, planes departing half empty but full of baggage? You might think this sounds ridiculous, but if things don’t change soon that is exactly where we are headed.

I must, however, commend the three professionals from Virgin Atlantic

that took charge of the situation on their own and made sure all of their passengers were brought to the front of the line and ushered through despite the crowd growing increasingly more threatening.

Will I go through this again? Probably, because I have to, like most of us, but it is my sincere hope that some sanity begins to prevail or we will be destined for disaster.

Reprinted from my blog at a national travel magazine

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to travel the world and be able to communicate with anyone, anytime? Well, you can. No, I’m not suggesting you learn every language on the planet, nor am I implying that you should take a crash course in all 21 official languages of South Africa before venturing on your safari – unless you have a photographic memory, but I digress.

The reality is that communication comes in many forms and language is only one small part of that equation. In fact, all cultures communicate nonverbally to one degree or another. I’m sure all of us have been flashed a variety of gestures in foreign countries when we do something wrong, or have been smiled at for doing something right. These are forms of communication and they are quite universal.

When I was in rural China quite a few years ago I met a very elderly woman, from a generation of foot binding and no modern conveniences, and we had been invited into her house as our driver knew her well. It was as if we had stepped right out of a page of National Geographic and I was fascinated by how she lived. More than anything, I wanted to take a photograph of her, but had to think of a way to ask. To not ask could be very offensive. Now, of course I didn’t ask her in English, nor did I attempt it in my very basic knowledge of Mandarin! I also took a moment to realize that this woman may never have seen a camera before, much less understand what a photograph was. So I thought about what I could do to communicate with her my desire to capture her on film (yes, it was still in the days of film). Luckily, it was a small Polaroid, so I took a photo of my traveling companion and showed it to the woman as it developed. The frail lady must have shoved the photo in my hand and grabbed it back at least a half a dozen times. I wasn’t sure if she was frightened of it or intrigued. Well, it turned out to be the latter because then I pointed to the camera and to her, and to my great surprise, I saw one of the biggest smiles I have ever seen! I decided to take two photographs so I could give her one as a gift, and as we were driving away she never stopped staring at it. She was even grabbing passersby to show them her magic image.

A gesture, the lift of a brow, a smile. Anyway you look at it, the door to the world opens up when you make contact with another human being and take a chance at communicating any way you can.

Reprinted from my blog at a national travel magazine