Ben’s Brush with Adaptability

Topic: ableism (4)

Fifty years of on-and-off travel had shown Ben the indifference of Nassau, the anonymity of New York City, and the brashness of Paris. But nothing rivaled the pulse of humanity he felt for the first time as a 30-year-old on East Africa’s Serengeti Plain.

Toka, the guide for Ben’s tour group, steered the Land Rover sharply left, bumping into the track that led to a small, long-dead crater in the distance. Dust streamed behind the vehicle as it sped towards the cavity interrupting the flatland. "We go see elephant," Toka announced to Ben’s seven fellow travelers. "Last week, we saw three."

Ben’s crutches danced on the Rover’s floor. He braced them against the driver’s seat, essential for his mobility with cerebral palsy.

He was fascinated by Toka’s elongated right earlobe, stretched since childhood, now tucked neatly behind his ear.

What remarkable adaptability, Ben thought. Toka, a Masai, had forsaken his people’s nomadic traditions to become a guide for Serengeti National Park. His father hunted with a spear; Toka drove a Rover with a rifle strapped to the door.

Suddenly, the Land Rover veered off the track. Ben grabbed the back of Toka’s seat as his crutches slid, thudding against the door. Toka glanced at Ben, who smiled to reassure him he was OK.

Then Ben saw it: a rhino carcass. Vultures scattered as the Rover approached, circling the body. The hide looked hollow, small next to the snout. "Poachers," Toka exclaimed, pointing to the missing horns. He shook his head as the Rover returned to the track, hopping over old tire grooves.

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Ben again glanced at Toka’s ear, marveling at his leap from nomad to guide.

But how will Toka cope, Ben mused, as his world opens to more irresponsible poachers and pretentious tourists? How will he handle travelers with mobility problems in a land where convenience isn't yet a necessity?

Vivien Greene's words echoed in his mind:

"Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass. It’s about learning how to dance in the rain."

The bumpy track smoothed into a gravel road. Toka scanned the horizon. "Wildebeest," he stated, pointing to a dust cloud rapidly approaching. Ben saw the faint outlines of a charging herd. "Dry season now," Toka explained. "Wildebeest go to higher ground. More water."

Ben realized they would cross the road in front of them. He was unprepared for the stampede that enveloped the Rover. Toka remained unconcerned. The wildebeest, pounding the earth, avoided the vehicle as it plowed through the herd. Their odd, bearded heads seemed too large for their horse-like bodies. Yearling calves and mature bulls kept pace.

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Then, it was suddenly over. Silence returned, save for the Rover’s grind toward the crater and the group’s anticipation of seeing an elephant.

As the Rover began a gradual incline to the crater’s rim, it passed another rack of bones. A wildebeest that didn’t make it, Toka said. Picked clean by jackals and hyenas.

At the base of the crater, Toka parked under an acacia tree and pointed to a nearby hill. It was a short, steep walk. Ben retrieved his crutches, but quickly fell behind the eager group. He was confident he could make it, but knew it would take time.

Toka came up behind him, tapping his shoulder. "Ride?" he asked, pointing to his back. Ben declined, but Toka persisted. "I know," Toka said, his eyes earnest and understanding.

Toka took Ben’s crutches, laid them on the ground, and hoisted Ben onto his back. Ben wrapped his arms around Toka’s neck and his feet around his haunches. Toka wasn't a big man, but they made it up the hill, just as Ben’s group reached the rim. Toka quietly pointed down into the crater’s wide, shallow floor, revealing a pair of elephants, surprisingly close, dwarfing the acacia trees.

Looking back at that 1973 adventure, Ben now understood Charles Darwin’s words:

“It is not the strongest of the species that survives but rather that which is most adaptable to change.”  

Ben’s takeaway tip from his story: Welcome change with courage and humility.

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