“Is theese Bwana Jimmee?!” the crackling telephone kept screaming at me, to which I replied in French, that yes, I was the safari guide, Jim Heck, to which the enthusiastic person on the other line screamed again, “Is theese Bwana Jimmee?!!!”
Didn’t know what to do. I’d really been looking forward to a few hours off, basically just reading in my little room in the Mille Collines. I’d sent my group out on their own to stroll Kigali. I started to lose interest until the message changed, delivered by the same high-pitched screech, “Friends arrested!!”
I know something about chloroquine. It was the reason I first got malaria.
You can’t travel for a year.
South African police and military are enforcing one of
Travelers generally come from privileged classes so it pains me to talk about the unexpected suffering attending travelers, today. But that’s my job. It’s where my life’s been anchored.
I’m supposed to be on safari now, filing my “OnSafari” reports back to you. Neither Kathleen or I can remember a March in our past when I wasn’t in Africa writing diaries before blogs, and try as I have with the overwhelming work cleaning up the mess of mass cancellations, I just can’t shake thinking I’m on safari.
“This sounds like something we’d be talking about in an underdeveloped country,” the Mayor of New York said today.
Withdraw into our shelter-in-place and our vision contracts. Personally I find it harder and harder to concentrate on Africa. My children are much closer.
America, wake up.
Might this have had something to do with the rush by all the world airlines this morning to waive all fees for changes over very generous time frames?
Oh my. A careful reading of the
I’m not a scientist or a medical doctor. I’m a safari guide entrusted not just with the safety and enjoyment of my clients, but with the integrity of their prepaid travel. What do I do?
Coronavirus is creeping into Africa but at a much slower rate than some expect given the high levels of transport exchange between Africa, China and even Italy.