The journey was intense and we drove along rough and bumpy roads . We were very fortunate for the quantity and variety of animals we were able to see. At least that is what we were told by the tour organizers, who were very positive.

Two men escort us to the entrance of the tent where we would spend the night. Everything is very dark and we can only see what the flashlight of our phones illuminates. They again warn us not to go out for any reason, to use the walkie-talkies or flashlights that are inside the room in case we need anything.

I am very nervous. I am certain that we are not going to survive if “something were to happen”. I touch the tent’s hard plastic. It occurs to me to Google the name of the material, and I remember that we don’t have wifi. I feel ridiculous wanting to use wifi in the middle of nowhere. We came in search of adventure, but I can’t get used to it, to living on constant alert.

We hear something like a growl. We listen to it again and confirm that it is a growl mixed with other noises that we cannot or do not want to identify.

The “windows” are closed. The smell of repellent hurts our noses. The mosquito net hangs over the bed. I check the corners for anything that might have slipped in while we were gone. I check if the walkie-talkie has power. I think about how useless it would be to call for help if one of the animals decides to pass through where this 5-stars camp is set up. Would luxury be of any use in an emergency? I run my fingers over the material of the tent, which seems to me more fragile than a few minutes before. I wonder if it would be able to withstand a heavy rain. I am sure it would not stand in the way of a herd of angry elephants.

I lie down and fall asleep. I wake up a few minutes later, breathless, perhaps from a nightmare. A cool breeze comes through the door, and I can see the sky full of stars.

Something is not right. That door shouldn’t be open. I check the bed. My husband is not there. I jump out of bed with an agility I didn’t know I had and got entangled in the mosquito net that falls and wraps around my body. I am desperate and struggle until I manage to free myself. Exhausted, I look for the flashlight or the walkie-talkie. I can’t find them. There is nothing on the table.

I know my husband is outside and I go out despite the thousand warnings I had that day. I go out instinctively. My body is in control. A thought crosses my mind: could I help him with nothing to defend ourselves with? The darkness is total, I want to call out to him but my throat is clenched tight, and even though I try I can’t make a sound. I extend my arms on my front and walk around the tent; I try to remember where the stairs are, I don’t want to stumble, I don’t want to fall.

I step on something slimy. I am barefoot. The cold air makes my sweaty body shudden. I move forward without knowing where I’m going. I try to make out shapes in the darkness without success.  I hear a growl nearby, too close. I am petrified and think of Lot’s wife turned into a pillar of salt for disobeying an order. The same thing I am doing now. I stifle a laugh. Then I cry. I hear creeping footsteps closer rustling the leaves on the ground. I see lights in the distance, I choose to believe they are the caretakers coming to rescue us.

Author: Lau Tullio

Proofreader: Barnaby Sheridan

Tanzania (Episodio 4)