How to approach a lion...

I have finally made it to Zimbabwe, and (more import-
antly) I have finally found a relatively fast internet connection (it has taken me about 30 minutes just to log on!). Welcome to Africa, Jen!!!

I have just completed my third day as a volunteer with the lions and I often catch myself realising what I am actually doing. Everything is incredibly surreal. The landscape looks like a painting, with powder blue, cloudless skies (not to mention the punishing sun-in the winter, no-less), and the grass is that really long, hay-coloured stuff that looks like goldilocks!

I received my first and highly impressive scratch on my first day (from a 3-month old pride-of-the-Pride in the making, named Langa). No, no, lions are not, in fact, just really big cats! They are actually just razor sharp teeth and claws in a bed of fur, even the 'wee' 3 monthers! And it turns out that it is not a good idea to put your face on their belly (even if you really want to!). :)

Also on my first day, I was taught the proper method of approaching a, nearly full-grown and fully capable of disemboweling you in one swipe of their paw, lion. The head guide at our park, Ian, took me up to see our oldest cubs (the 18 monthers) and I will admit that the fear meter was pretty low-they are just cats after all, aren't they? Ian then proceeded to explain that one swipe of the paw was equivalent to 1 tonne of pressure. Uh-huh...fear meter starting to register. He explains that I must establish dominance by disciplining the lions with a whack across the mouth if they try to bite me, scratch me, or even look at me the wrong way. And I'm thinking...isn't that gonna just piss him off even more? He tells me to kneel down near the shoulder blade of our biggest cub (if you can call this ginormous razor with fur a cub!). The cub's name is Phoenix, but he is also known as Mr. Grumpy. Okay, fear meter through the roof, here people! And it is at this point that Ian reminds me that they can sense fear (yeah, too late, Buddy!). So, I kneel down and start to pat Grumpy Pants on his back. He starts to wag his tail (which, if you're familiar with cats, is not a good thing). Ian tells me to continue petting. Alrighty, then! Grumpy Pants starts to growl! Continue? Okey dokey...I don't really need my right arm, do I? Grumpy Pants turns and snarls and at that point my heart is just pounding in my ears and Ian tells me to whack him. Huh? Whack him? Whack him, Jen! So I whacked him! I hit the poor lad across the snout and told him 'No Phoenix!' (in my best teacher voice). And would you believe, in some crazy rule of the natural world, that earned me the respect on this razor with fur. It was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life!

Love you all and hope you're well.

Jen