To say there is a lot of feminine energy in my family is an understatement. My father came from a big military family that traveled across Europe, the southwest, and eventually Texas due to an unfortunate childhood accident in Germany. San Antonio had one of the best burn units. While my two twin brothers are the only Roby’s to carry the name, the rest of our large Texas family is all women. Each blessed with a variety of talents. Looking back I’ve been incredibly blessed with the ability to see them every holiday, every year and watch us all grow in love. I know now that this love that binds us together is a directly reflection of our mysterious grandmother.
My grandmother is the reason that triggered this trip back in April, so it makes sense to begin the story with Anne Beckett Yeargain, aka, Honey. I don’t need to dive into too much family history other than this woman was pure gold and the first person to come to mind when asked who I want to be like when I get older. Honey had so many stories, both good and bad, and possessed this incredible maternal instinct not only with her children, but her childrens’ children, her childrens’ children children, and even her childrens’ children children children. Her memory never failed her, and even at the ripe age of 96, she still carried the soul of a timeless spirit.
I am grateful to be here today because of her, and to be traveling through my dream continent that only child form Jennifer knew I would experience. When I was a young girl I would lay in the soft Texas grass, spending hours looking up at the clouds. I would picture myself in faraway places with this sense of determination and familiarity. I would dream about Africa and all the animals I would see one day like a vivid reoccurring dream; it was a bright blue day and the grass was fresh with spring. Animals surrounded me and I was home.
These early wanderlust thoughts kept me going through all the gray days of doubt. Perhaps it was the National Geographic channel, or the release of The Lion King that fueled these ideas. My younger sister, Emily, and I spent countless hours pretending we were lions on our next door neighbors ridiculously sized rock, roaring and eating grass as if we were lions living in Pride Rock. Looking back, the only thing more ridiculous than this random boulder in their front yard, were the random little wild girls running around on all fours. It was a time of simplicity and innocence that I would give anything to go back to, just once.
While I knew I would end up in Africa someday, deep down I doubted this faint notion. Perhaps it was always meant to stay high on a pedestal. Ironically the only other place I placed on a separate pedestal was Spain. While I had many opportunities to visit, I wanted to speak the language fluently before I set foot in this country. It wasn’t until early this year after the death of my grandmother that I had the clear understanding I would be connecting these places, one leading me toward the next. All my previous solo trips have been stepping stones instructing how I would navigate this journey.
It wasn’t until I hit my previous destination, Rwanda, that I got a little rattled and unsure of my purpose. Everything up until this point has lined up so perfectly that it just felt right. Then I hit a bump. I felt fear, loneliness, and shortly after, sickness. I gave myself the patience to heal for a few days in solitude, but for the first time this entire trip, I felt weary of my next move. I watched the stormy clouds roll past Mount Meru with sobering sadness. I am near the continents two largest mountains, and yet I feel no desire to climb them at this point in my life. It is the beginning of the rainy season and the views from the summit would not be nearly as rewarding this time of year.
Where should I go, what should I do? Then it hit me, as if my inner child was tugging at my own heartstrings. You’re in AFRICA JENNIFER. The wild animals are calling, go to them.
I inquired around the village and booked the first safari that felt right. While there are so many options, depending on your budget, timeline and destination, you will know the right package when you see it. Just like that, the puzzle pieces starting lining in place again, and everything flowed in harmony.
The next morning of the tour I was the first pickup. For the first time in days I was eager and energized. I had my small bag packed with my sleeping liner, safari clothes, bug spray, and toiletries. I looked around the empty safari vehicle thinking, the only thing missing is my sister. She should be here with me. We should be reliving our childhood together.
The guide picked up two ladies along the way. The first was a lovely older German woman, and the second was a younger British gal. The three of us would share this massive seven person off road vehicle for the next four days. I was ecstatic!
The beginning of the trip started slow and easy. We squealed at the first sighting of a mongoose family at the entrance of Tarigeirgie Park. Then proceeded spotting a of the Impala, giraffes, elephants, hippos and even the first sighting of a lion pack. The highlight of this park was a special moment when we waited by the water and were the only people who watched a herd of elephants enter the water for a social bath.
Elephants have always reminded me of my mom for some reason. I first encountered wild elephants in Thailand, where I immediately thought this must be her spirit animal. They say an elephant forgives but never forgets. They also say in order to put an elephant into captivity, one must first break their spirit. I learned the sad truth behind the logging industry, as well as the commercial tourism for elephant rides. I’ll never forget the video they showed us of the beautifully strong creature bound by all fours in a tiny bamboo pen. They whipped this elephant every day, for weeks, until it finally caved and bent a knee to their master. This was the moment when the elephant no longer felt it had something to live for, and gave up. Yet seeing them at this sanctuary park years after being rescued from captivity, they found a way to accept the past and live the remainder of their life being happy. Despite all the tragedy this animal endured, they were still able to love people. The wounds and gashes across their body would tell you otherwise. Deep beneath their playful trunk is sorrow-filled past that only their black eyes may show. My wild mother is strong in many ways similar to the elephant. It was during this special group watering hole experience that I suddenly wished my mom was here to see this. To feel the love and laughter alongside me.
Later that night we ate dinner on the outskirts of Arusha. We placed our bags into the luxurious glamping tents before racing back out for a hot meal. The small group of us were relaxing over the first course of carrot ginger soup when from a distance we could hear a faint growl. We all immediately stopped talking in unison to listen to the creature. The deep growl grew into a louder grunt and we could tell that it was coming from nearby, just beyond the bush. Fear prickled our skins as we quickly retreated inside the caged kitchen area, all silently acknowledging it was definitely a lion.
After dinner a small tribe came out to play drums and dance. When it came time for audience participation, everyone was too full to move. Everyone except for the older German woman. Her thick, silver-blonde hair bounced to the beat of the drum as she danced with the locals. Her vibrant spirit was youthful beyond words. A nearby stranger smiled toward me and asked “is that your mom?”
In this moment I realized my mom was here all along. She would have been dancing here just as this light-hearted woman. I would later looked at my phone during the pocket of Wi-Fi and see my mom text for the first time in weeks to see if she could call. Life is funny like that and our wavelengths tend to be connected like the Aspen tree root system; when one person feels, the other does too.
The next day was a whirlwind of an experience – we had to cross the crater inside Ngorongoro National park to enter into the Serengeti. I’m Swahili Serengeti translates to “endless land” and it’s true. The park is significantly bigger than the other two and stretches for miles into Kenya, where herds will migrate through two times a year. We spent the day chasing hyenas, warthogs, more lions and even found the rare leopard.
She sat high up in the top flat acacia tree, napping on her sunlit perch. This beautiful feline was the hardest to spot in the park. There are about 1500 of them in the 40,000+ square foot park, yet they manage to hide themselves so well. Blending into their environment, this solitary cat is completely at ease with her surroundings. There was a moment when we exchanged glances and I felt my sister alongside me. Gone were the days when we climbed high up into the oak trees, yet here I was decades later wondering if a piece of her was up there with that regal cat. The sun kissed her face as she stretched and stalked her way across the branches. She knew we were all watching and it didn’t phase this Queen of the Serengeti.
Later that night we would enjoy dinner before heading toward our small camping tents for an early morning wake up. You could not stand up in these, but the water at this site was actually heated compared to the previous cold showers. By the washrooms an elephant would stampede across our site, waking everyone up. The British gal and I were sharing a tent and laughed about life. I felt this kindred bond with her, it was so easy to open up to her. We giggled gossip about the different types of people in the world, and how no matter where you go, you can find them everywhere. In that moment I realized my sister was here all along. This is exactly what Emily and I would have been doing had she been here on this trip. A few hours later some water buffalo would loom around our tent, eating grass and nuzzling our canvas walls, just like we would have done many years ago in our neighbors lawn. The next morning the guide would tell us someone on this trip has some big animal energy because it’s not normal for this many nightly camp visitors. I’m not saying it was the power of us three women together, but some secret part of me wanted to believe I had the power to whisper them closer.
The third day was potentially the highlight of the entire trip. We were on the usual hunt for all the big cats when our driver with eagle eyes caught a faint beige dot in the distance. The cheetah. As we “illegally” went off the path to get closer my mind raced about the last time I even saw a cheetah. I don’t recall seeing them in the zoo and was eager to see how petite they were in real life. Over the past years I formed a respect for this animal due to not one, but two readings about spirit animals. Both times the cheetah card was drawn for me: “an animal of solar force that uses passion to fuel forward momentum. When in balance, there is boundless energy” was amongst other definitions that stood out for me. I could easily trace the connection.
As we approached the area we zeroed in on a beautiful small cheetahs slinking across the grassy plain. From behind her popped up another cheetah, only slightly smaller! A mother and her female cub. I was delighted to share their space as we turned off the engine to sit with them. After they became more comfortable with our presence, the young cub completely took me by surprise. I was sitting in the passenger seat of the vehicle, with a personal roof toward the front. I stood on the seat, making eye contact with the cheetah. She circled the car toward me and I could read her next move. Just like how my cat at home would dip prior to jumping onto a surface, this cheetah was about to pounce on top the car to take a closer look. My adrenaline spiked as she curiously climbed toward me. Reason told me I should be scared, but my body didn’t want to move. I asked the guide below if I should come back into the vehicle, but he reassured me by whispering “no, no”. Not “don’t worry the cat won’t attack you” or “maybe you should come back in” but simply, “no, no”.
Our eyes locked and I felt so much love for this animal sitting in front of me. She was young, unweathered, and beyond playful. She started nibbling at the plastic roof handles in front of me. The entire group was going wild for how bold she was to come hang. She explored everything from the windshield wipers, the exhaust pipe, the handles. She wanted to know everything about us. I placed my hand upon the glass between us as she sprawled across the engine. Her paw lifted toward my hand in this pure moment of understanding. I see you. You see me. We are one and the same. It was like looking through the glass at my inner child and connecting with her on so many levels.
She lounged around for almost thirty minutes as we all patiently spent the day together. Life was precious and so were these moments binding us. I looked around the field and it suddenly hit me…this is not how I pictured the Serengeti. Every picture I’ve seen prior to coming here was dusty dry desert. Yet looking around we were surround in fresh spring. The lush green endless fields bloomed with life as butterflies dancing across flowers. With the cheetah still by my side, together we looked around for predators. The horizon had a small herd of elephants and when I looked up, the blue sky was filled with pillow clouds. dejavu swept over me as I looked up at the endless sky. This is exactly what I imagined so long ago while I was a young girl staring up into the vastness. It was as if my future self was always sending a message back to my child self, letting her know time would heal everything and this land would bring me to realize I was never alone. How could I fear abandonment when I’ve always have this same sky to remind me of the place of endless land and endless love?
I would go to bed that night completely satisfied, not only with all the cats of the day, but with a renewed hope for the future. What if it all works out? I don’t think I ever left myself consider this as an option. If I ever forget I can easily be reminded through all the feminine powers in my life; the legacy of my grandmother, the wonderfully maternal aunts that came after her, my fierce mother and graceful sister, my new niece, and not to mention the countless cousins on my dads side, along with the Caribbean cousins on my moms. We are all a few years apart, and scattered across the United States, like some magical star dust across the continent. These woman are my rock. They are my history and a stable reminder that I am never alone in this world.
And that’s just my family. Don’t even get me started on my friends. I am beyond lucky to know these women and will forever lift them up, as they lift me. While all the big cats may be in Africa, I’m certain all the powerful felines are sprinkled everywhere in between, an ancient line of goddesses that keeps this world a little less dull.
