Life on the Ramona Coaster (14 page)

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Game, Set, Match

I
T’S MAY OF 2010.
I am sitting on a luxurious private jet with nine other women from New York City and California. We are not traveling to a posh resort in St. Tropez or the Cannes Film Festival in France. Not even close. I am in Africa—yes, that’s right, Africa—and we are flying to a rural airstrip in the middle of the South African wilderness. For the next sixteen days, we will be visiting four different African countries as we embark on a charitable safari, to raise money for schools in impoverished communities. And, get this, I only have one bag packed. It weighs less than twenty-five pounds and contains little more than three pairs of khaki pants, two pairs of khaki shorts, and six T-shirts.

I am both nervous and exhilarated. I’ve never been away from my husband and daughter for such a long time. Sure, Avery and I have gone out to Southampton or Aspen a day or so before Mario and Avery has gone away to camp, but I have never been away from both of them for this long or this far away.

I adjust my seat, put on my face mask, close my eyes, and brace myself for the journey of a lifetime.

O
NE YEAR EARLIER
I had I run into an acquaintance of mine, Krista Krieger, at a social event in Southampton. Krista is the Chairwoman of Empowers Africa, a non-profit organization that works to fund programs that empower rural communities near conservation areas in sub-Saharan Africa. After some small talk, she began telling me about her charity and suggested that I get involved. She explained, “Every spring, I take a group of women to Africa on a wilderness safari and along the way we visit the schools and communities for which we have raised money. I usually bring about six to eight women. You should join us next year.”

I stared at her in disbelief. I didn’t know anything about her charity. Maybe she had me confused with someone else. Ramona . . . in Africa . . . on a safari . . . a
wilderness
safari? I am not the outdoorsy type. I wear six-inch high heels and designer dresses. When I travel, I fly first class and stay in four-star, luxury hotels. This trip was way out of my comfort zone. I told Krista I was flattered that she was inviting me, but I what I really thought was
there is
no way I am going to Africa!

Just to be polite, I asked, “What does the trip entail?”

“We travel through the African wilderness for about two weeks and visit about five different villages and game reserves. We meet with local communities and check on the progress of the different projects we have funded. It’s a magical experience.”

“Wow,” I said through a tense smile, “that sounds very interesting. Let me think about it. In the meantime, please send me some more details.”

“Will do,” she responded cheerfully. “Again, I would love it if you could join us.”

Although my initial, knee-jerk reaction was to dismiss the idea as something I would never do, the longer I thought about it the more I realized that this was the old Ramona thinking. I reminded myself that this was my year of renewal and part of that process was opening myself up to new challenges and new experiences. The new Ramona was intrigued and up for the challenge.

A few weeks later, I met Krista at the Meadow Club in Southampton. Over dinner, we talked about the trip to Africa and the goals and initiatives of her organization.

“So, Krista, tell me a bit about this trip,” I said.

She begins with what feels like a rehearsed speech, “In our sixteen years of operation, we have raised more than $6 million to fund community development projects, in areas of education and healthcare, in six African countries. So far, we have successfully built over 140 classrooms and funded the training of more than five hundred teachers. And, as a result of our donations and initiatives, schools have received government-funded teachers, classroom overcrowding has been reduced, student attendance has increased, and overall learning conditions have improved.”

Good grief, I felt like I was in a business meeting. I always get a hoot out of people who present themselves so formally, especially when I know them socially. Sensing that she was losing my attention, she took a large gulp of wine and changed her tack.

“You will be shocked. The living conditions are dire. The schooling is poor. Children are taught by community elders who may or may not have any formal education or training. Many classrooms are actually located under a shady tree in the hot African sun and have no supplies—no chalkboards, notepads, or pens. They have no kitchens, so they cook in big pots over open fires.”

Finally she was speaking to my heart. “Oh my goodness,” I said, “that sounds horrible.”

She reached into her slim Louis Vuitton handbag and pulled out a bunch of colorful photographs and brochures and placed them on the square table, “Our program raises money to build
real
schools—schools with walls, kitchens, administrative supplies, and student supplies. And after the school is built, the government provides certified teachers so the children learn from trained educators.”

As she spoke I looked through the photos. There were images of malnourished children, with round, swollen bellies standing in makeshift classrooms with dirt floors. Then, I saw pictures of smiling children in their newly built classrooms. The joyful expression on their faces brought a tear to my eye. I was touched. I had goose bumps. I felt motivated to act, to get involved immediately. This was a cause and charity where I could make an immediate difference in a child’s life.

“Krista, say no more. I’m in.”

She looked shocked, “Really?”

“Yes. Tell me what I have to do next.”

Over the next few months after that meeting, I prepared for my African safari. I received numerous immunization shots, more than you can possibly imagine—measles, mumps, rubella tetanus, yellow fever, polio, and diphtheria. I also began working to raise money for the charity. On my birthday, I invited forty of my closest friends to my party at the French bistro Chat Noir, an elegant restaurant located in a townhouse on the Upper East Side. The invitation read,
In lieu of gifts, please send donations to the Sanctuary or Empowers Africa
.
The money we raise will be used to build schools in Africa
.

I was originally supposed to go to Africa with my good friend, Marla. It was comforting to think that I would have her with me, but she had to drop out at the last minute so I ended up going on my own with Krista and eight other women, five of whom I have never even met before. The day before I left I was a nervous wreck. I told everyone I ran into—the doorman of my building, the waiter at Tiramisu, and the owner of our local stationary store—how excited and nervous I was about the trip.

On May 7, 2010, I flew KLM Royal Dutch airlines from JFK to Amsterdam, where my connecting flight was delayed for four hours because of a volcano eruption in Iceland the month before. I finally arrived in Johannesburg close to midnight, twenty grueling hours later, and collapsed into an exhausted sleep in my hotel around 2:00 a.m. The plan was to meet up with the other women early the next morning and fly a charter plane to Kruger National Park, the first stop on our safari. I had set a wake-up call for 8:00 a.m. but that call never came and I woke up from a jet-lagged sleep at 8:30 a.m. All I could think as I rushed to get ready was,
what will these women think of me?
I was meeting most of them for the first time and here I was showing up late on the very first day of our trip. I was so mortified that I asked the concierge for a note, like I was a child who was late for school. Thankfully, the camp liaison covered for me and said it was his fault that I was late so I was able to relax.

After brief introductions, our group loaded into a very small ten-seat private charter plane, the only type of craft compact enough to land on the rural airstrips in the remote locations we would be visiting. An hour later we were deposited onto a solitary strip of tarmac. On either side was an endless expanse of flat scrubby terrain. We were met by two drivers in open-top jeeps and, as we began making our way to camp, along a very narrow dirt road in the African wilderness, all my anxieties of the days leading up to the trip unexpectedly began to fade away. I inhaled deeply. The air in South Africa is invigorating. It has such a clean, pure smell. I knew in that moment I had made the right decision to come and that this experience would change me forever. All the women were so friendly and supportive. No one had an agenda. They were all secure and happy within themselves. It was so different from my experiences traveling on the show.

When we arrived at Ngala Tented Camp, we were greeted by cheerful staff who sang to us while they handed out moist towelettes and a refreshing drink. After we settled in, we had just enough time to unpack and have a quick lunch before heading out for an evening safari. At four o’clock we divided into two groups and set out in two open-air jeeps through Kruger National Park, one of the largest game reserves in Africa. Since this was my first ever safari and I had no idea what to expect, I was both exhilarated and nervous. I wondered how close the animals would come to the jeep.
Are they dangerous? Will I be frightened? Will we see anything good?
Nothing could have prepared me for what we were about to see. The experience exceeded my wildest expectations.

Almost immediately, we had our first sighting—a male leopard, whose stomach was visibly full from a recent kill. We were so close to him that you could see the rise and fall of his chest as he relaxed and digested his meal. We later saw the remains of his kill hanging from a tree, which is how leopards protect their food from scavengers. Not fifteen minutes later we spotted a female leopard hiding in the grass. She was so regal and beautiful. I’m told most people don’t get to see leopards on their first safari trip, but here I was, my first day out, and I was lucky enough to see not just one, but two of the majestic creatures. Along with lions, elephants, black and white rhinos, and Cape buffalo, leopards are considered one of the big five game, a term safari guides use to describe the top five most difficult animals to spot. I felt truly blessed. Over the course of the trip we went on to see all of the big five game, as well as giraffes, zebras, elephants, hippos, and impalas—which are as common there as deer in Southampton.

When the sun had set, we pulled over and our spotter and guide set up tables with lanterns for cocktails under the brilliant African night sky. These were the brightest stars I have ever seen and the sheer number of them is almost impossible to comprehend. There are constellations like the Southern Cross and Scorpio constellations that can’t be seen from our hemisphere. As we packed up and got ready to head back to camp for dinner, the spotter shone his light to the left and suddenly hundreds of Cape buffalo were illuminated barely one hundred meters away from where we were sitting. All I could think was, thank goodness they hadn’t decided to come our way or we would have been stampeded. We piled back into the jeeps and headed back to camp. Just as we were beginning to process the marvel of the herd of Cape buffalo, we encountered a parade of enormous elephants crossing the road ahead of us. We had to pull over and wait for them to pass through. Seeing these enormous creatures in person I finally understood the phrase “hung like an elephant”—it truly looks like a fifth appendage.

The next morning I awoke to the sound of a friendly voice calling out good morning and a tray with a breakfast of oatmeal and fresh fruit outside my door. I felt totally relaxed. For the first time in my life I wasn’t worried about anything; not my businesses, not taking care of my two homes, not even my family. It was so liberating. I took the breakfast out to my terrace and the mango was so sweet and delicious it was like I was tasting it for the first time. Even though I had heard stories about monkeys invading the outdoor showers, I decided to risk it and bathe al fresco.

That day we drove out to visit the local preschool, primary, and high school. The highlight of the day was when we visited Mahlale High School and got to see the kitchen they were building with the money we had raised leading up to the trip. Not only do the schools serve lunch and cook on the premises, they actually grow all their own vegetables. The children tend the gardens and pick the vegetables for their meals. For most of these children, many of whom walk miles from home, their only meal of the day is at this school. What really impressed me the most were the smiles on every child’s face. They have the brightest smiles you have ever seen. These children have few material possessions, yet they were beaming with happiness. It put into perspective for me how materialistic we are in the West.

Welverdiend Primary School, South Africa