Uganda Be Kidding Me Read online

  I looked up and pointed out the Southern Cross. “Look, Simone. I did learn something on this trip. Those are the Southern pointers!”

  “That’s the sun.”

  Once we had dismounted from our elephant and were reunited with our group, Simone took it upon herself to announce, “Chelsea just asked me if the sun and the moon were the same thing.”

  “What the fuck, Simone?”

  “Oh, Chels,” Molly said, rubbing my head. “It’s amazing how much you’ve accomplished without really knowing anything. It’s like you have Asperger’s.”

  “Thank you, Molly,” I said, snuggling into her. “What I have is Ass-burger’s. It is related to Asperger’s but is harder to diagnose.”

  Andrew came over and shut down our love fest. He sternly instructed us to walk back over to our elephants and escort them to their stables, where we would put them down for their afternoon nap. Apparently, they were exhausted from their one-hour outing. Putting them to bed meant they were stored behind steel bars with a watering trough and a feed shoot at the bottom of their cage.

  “As you can see, the elephants are free to come and go as they please,” Andrew assured us, as we all looked on, appalled. In my opinion, Andrew had Nazi leanings.

  “Is that right?” Sue asked him. “So they are all able to just open the locks on these steel gates and walk right out? That’s pretty sophisticated.”

  Andrew hated us and so did everyone else at the camp.

  “So, what’s on tap for tonight, Andrew?” Shelly asked with her last shred of positivity.

  “A nighttime elephant ride,” he said. “Totally different route.”

  “There’s no fucking way I can sit through another elephant ride. That was the worst,” Shelly whispered to me. “And, it’s definitely not something anyone needs to do twice.”

  When we got back to our villa, Hannah told us she had been in contact with Rex and that he was on leave as of that morning. He was ready and willing to come straight to Camp Dumbo, or he could meet us at the airport to go to Botswana.

  “Airport!” I screamed. “And call our travel agent and tell her to get us the fuck out of this racket.”

  “I already did. There is a daily plane that arrives here at one p.m. to drop off new guests—the same one we came in on. We can hop on that, which will transfer us to the airport in Botswana, where can meet Rex and take another plane from there. There is room for us at Mombo Camp, but since we’re coming two days early, they don’t have an extra room for Rex.”

  “No problem!” Simone and I blurted at the same time.

  “Sounds like there’s a little Sisterhood of the Traveling Coslopus happening,” Molly gurgled, and then rolled her tongue trying to make a sexual rhumba sound that I didn’t like.

  “You guys can have him. I’m out,” Hannah stated, apparently referring to Rex.

  “We should really get some sort of refund,” Molly insisted.

  “At this point, I would pay double to leave early,” I told her.

  “The plane is picking us up in ninety minutes. I already told Corbin that we are leaving early. And Rex is bringing all the clothes you left there, Chelsea. Not that any of them will even fit.”

  “Wow, Hannah. Way to go. You really pull through in the clutch,” Simone said.

  “Yes, Hannah. This is what I would refer to as a job very well done,” I confirmed, and offered her my fist to bump.

  “Oh by the way, Chels, I just told Corbin that you had a double herpes outbreak on both sets of lips and the dry heat and all the white people were making it worse. That’s our reason for leaving.”

  “That’s fine,” I told her. “Thank you.”

  “I also got a massage from a guy named 7Up,” she told me. “Even the massages suck here. It felt like I was being attacked by a Navy Seal.”

  Everyone scattered to their different areas to pack their belongings, and Sue headed toward the kitchen.

  Corbin, Norman, and Frederic all arrived at our villa to “see us off early.”

  “Okay, guys, we’re out of lime juice, so I had to use chicken stock,” Sue announced, with a pitcher of fresh margaritas in her hand. “Oh, hello, Corbin, Norman, and Siegfried.”

  Simone grabbed the pitcher out of Sue’s hand and went into the kitchen to remake the margaritas. Frederic followed closely behind to make sure we weren’t stealing the silverware. As she emptied two two-liter water bottles into the sink and filled them with straight tequila, he shook his head in disgust.

  “Sorry, Frederic, but we need closed containers for the plane. It’s easier for everyone if we have closed containers. It’s just disrespectful otherwise, don’t you think, Frederic?” she asked. Simone’s frown had turned upside down; she had turned into a full-blown enabler, and I liked it.

  Our moods had made a one-eighty from when we arrived. We were happy again, not only at the prospect of going to a new country and a new camp, but we were even more excited at the prospect of seeing Rex again. Sweet, sweet, dead-toothed Rex.

  As we got out of the jeep onto the airstrip and bid our adieus to Corbin, Sue reassured him. “Please don’t take it personally that we’re leaving, Corbin. What you’ve done here is amazing. It’s just hard to go from seeing elephants living their lives in the wild and not being bothered by humans, to seeing them put in a bunker every night and then being forced to take assholes like us on rides. But we wish you the best of luck.”

  The six-passenger daily plane that was retrieving us was landing, and it slowed to a stop to let out four new arrivals. Between it and Corbin’s jeep was a small, covered pergola-type structure with a bench in it. I realized the only outdoor urination that had taken place at this camp was by an elephant, so I decided to relieve myself. It would be a one-hour plane ride to meet Rex at the next airport in Botswana, and I wanted to be as light as possible. As the passengers disembarked and headed over to Corbin’s jeep, I politely waved.

  “I’m an American,” I explained as my reason for urinating in public, and then waited for them to pass me before pulling up my cargo shorts and lightly jogging over to the plane. We were greeted by the same pilot who had dropped us there two days earlier.

  “Did you girls have a good time?” he asked, smiling.

  “What do you think?” Hannah replied.

  “Oh, shit! What about Hunam?” Molly asked. “We can’t just leave him here.”

  “I already tipped him. I gave him whatever was left in Chelsea’s wallet,” Hannah informed us.

  “Hannah, you’ve really managed to pull your shit together,” Shelly told her. “That must have been a great massage.” Then she turned to Simone. “Will you pass me one of the margarita bottles?”

  Simone told the pilot we were going to need some cups.

  “There are paper ones in the back and plastic up here in the front. Plastic has less give and is generally better for urine.”

  My head spun around at his directness. “Are you single?” Then I nudged Sue and asked, “Who comes to the AIDS capital of the world without condoms?”

  “You have the weed, right?” Molly asked Sue.

  “I do,” Hannah announced.

  Notwithstanding Camp Dumbo, Africa was turning into a hotbed of sexual tension.

  There are no other pictures from this trip for legal reasons.

  CHAPTER 4

  REJECTION IN BOTSWANA

  Rex was standing outside the airport in khakis and a T-shirt, when we landed at yet another South African airport. He looked different out of his safari gear, which was neither here nor there, but he was wearing flip-flops, and I prefer that men don’t do that. He was standing next to our South African airport greeter, also wearing flip-flops.

  “Look who’s here!” I screamed as we got off the plane. “Rexy!” the six of us yelled as we ran over and tackled him on the tarmac. We were elated and drunk on love. He was as happy as we were, and there was no denying it.

  The airport in South Africa that was our waystation to Botswana was the size o