So Friday morning, Eric, the Hobsons and I left
And yesterday was our big safari day! Well, very-fun-even-if-not-big safari day. We did a lot of driving around, and saw a fair amount of cool animals, interspersed by extended periods of grass-watching. It was really fun, though, kidding aside—especially just for the chance to chat with the Hobsons and Eric the whole time, who are all people I love and love talking to, made even cooler by being in such a peaceful, beautiful place, and seeing a number of God’s most beautiful creatures. I think I would be bored out of my mind to be on the staff here, and I think I could live the rest of my life happily without even going on another safari, but it’s been a very nice thing to do once. If there were a way to do it not in a car, hiking or biking or something, I think I’d love it. Too bad that with lions and elephants and hippos and all that might be, y’know, fatal.
We didn’t see any elephants or lions or leopards—we did see a hippo from way far away, a couple small different types o’ cats, and tons of various and very pretty gazelle-related things and very amusing-looking warthogs. At one point on one of the roads, Brother Hobson saw a few piles of elephant dung and got very, very excited. Once he ran over it and got very excited when it squished, going, “Ooo, look it’s fresh!” It was kinda hard not to laugh. Later we went on a night drive after dark, led by some of the two of the park guides (a Zimbabwean blonde surfer-ish dude and a Mozambican girl), who had a series of rather amusing old-married-couple-with-only-one-remote-control-type spats over who held the floodlight. During the course of the whole day, a number of times I felt impressed by the sheer beauty of the place, which is a very lush and pretty green place—it made me think of the Creation (we actually had a really interesting conversation in the car in this sense about the endowment ceremony), and our stewardship over the earth. For the first time, my mind made a connection between that stewardship and D&C 121:39—“We have learned by sad experience that it is the nature and disposition of almost all men, as soon as they get a little authority, as they suppose, they will immediately begin to exercise unrighteous dominion.” In that context, it suddenly made so much more sense way people feel so free to exploit the environment—because our natural impulse in any situation of power, if we do not control ourselves, is to exercise unrighteous dominion. It’s a depressing realization, but it makes a ton of sense—and helps as a reminder of my need to keep tabs on the natural man within myself.
We took a break in the middle of the day, while the Hobsons rested a bit, I read my scriptures, and Eric wandered around a bit. I was wondering where he was until I turned my head a bit while reading, and saw him out of the corner of my eye near a building that some local workers were knocking down. He had asked for one of the hammers, and was taking a turn knocking down one of the walls himself. I couldn’t help thinking that that is the epitome of Eric: looking around until he finds some way to do something and help. I love that guy.
Today we took our time getting up at Goronghosa, as we weren’t in much of a hurry, and after eating a small breakfast and packing up and such, we headed out on our way home. We talked a bit to Mario, the sculptor who makes the stuff for the gift shop, who I had talked to a bit the night before and become friends with—my only regret about meeting new good people and sharing experiences with them is when you realize you have to leave and you can feel that the person will miss having you to talk to, even if you barely knew each other. That’s how I felt this morning.
Before we left the grounds, we went to a lookout spot called BuĂ© Maria (which means “Blessed Maria” in Sena—like Bua Jesu in the traditional evangelical song we sing a lot at work). It was a really pretty spot, and one thing I liked even more on the drive back from it is that we stopped at this overgrown old chapel on the side of the road. Eric and I tried to look around inside, and it was a bit hard, as it was really grown over, but as we were leaving, I felt an impression to go back inside and say a prayer, to simply give thanks for the chance to spend, on the Lord’s day, at least some of my time in a house dedicated to His name. As I said that prayer, and really felt that gratitude to be where I was, a feeling of peace and comfort and warmth came over me. I’d been anxious since yesterday about the issue of staying overnight at the park into Sunday, not being able to go to church, and having to pay people to work on the Sabbath day. But as I stood in that overgrown old church and prayed, I felt the most comforting peace and warmth in my chest—it felt like the Lord was telling me, “It’s okay. You’re okay.” Moments like these remind me of why people give so many thanks and sing so many praises for the comfort and, specifically, the peace of the gospel. I felt that peace today.
On the drive back, we had some great conversations—really, at least half of what’s made the whole weekend great have been the conversations we’ve had in the car. It’s really reminded me of the long and thoughtful conversations my family would have on our summer month-long car trips to visit family out West. This weekend we talked about race, social class, cross-cultural issues, Cheney speaking at graduation, tons of things. I was reminded of family, and that made it all the more awesome. Like life. Life is awesome.
2 comments:
He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.
I think Coleridge would agree with you--he digs 'em, too. Especially albatrosses.
I like what you said about stewardship: It think it's easy to abuse what we've been given to watch over, and that God's creations are sacred and should be treated with the honor and respect He would show for the birds, beasts, and gardens of His hands. It's sad to see how commercial Huntington beach is becoming, though some places aren't as crowded as others, and the sea's beauty is timeless to me when I look out at the waves. But the multi-million dollar OC homes, hotels, and complexes built right up against it are a sore reminder that, as you've heard me say, "the world is too much with us."
That trip sounds way awesome. But yes, I imagine it would be more fun to experience it out of a car were it not dangerous. Did you take a million pics of crazy animals like a good straubie should?
PS: only four more days till I am free of school madness for like several whole weeks! Yay!
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