Grand Theft Safari by Precious McKenzie, Becka Moore Page B

be like.” Dad stopped talking to admire the Blixen’s dining room and veranda.
    â€œWhat a life to wake up every morning, to see the Ngong Hills and lions.” Dad closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath, like he was trying to breathe in the experience.

    â€œI don’t know why they made this place a museum,” Tomas said rather grumpily.
    â€œKaren Blixen was also an author. When you get older, you should read her books. Or, see the classic movie
Out of Africa
with Robert Redford. Your mom loves that movie. It’s so romantic. And it’s about Karen Blixen’s life,” Dad said.
    â€œI’m not watching a kissing, mushy movie,” Tomas said.
    â€œGood. It is a movie for grownups,” Dad said.
    â€œLet’s head to the garden,” I suggested. I wanted to see the yard surrounding the plantation house.
    As we walked through the gardens, Dad felt the need to teach us a history lesson.
    â€œWhen Karen Blixen lived here, Kenya was controlled by Great Britain. It was a colony. The British government opened the lands to white settlers to farm. Karen Blixen was part of that. White settlers had a voice in the government but Africans did not. But, by 1963, Kenya gained independence and was no longer a colony.”
    â€œSo Kenya was kind of like America? A colony of Great Britain?” I asked Dad.
    â€œYes, sort of. Only it was not a colony for as longas America was,” he said.
    This caught Tomas’s attention. He liked to talk about wars and military history.
    â€œWas Kenya’s fight for independence bloody?” Tomas asked.
    â€œOf course,” Dad answered. “They had rebellions against the British as they fought for their freedom.”
    Impressed by Kenya’s history, Tomas took a new interest in the coffee plantation.
    â€œSo, this is a colonial plantation,” Tomas said. “Like one from the American South where there were slaves.”
    â€œI guess you could say that, especially since Karen Blixen was European, not African. She would have been part of the colonial ruling class,” Dad said.
    I had strange feelings after learning this. Part of me thought the home was beautiful and the idea of moving to a foreign land to farm sounded kind of romantic and adventurous. Until I thought about it from the African perspective. Europeans coming to take your land, farm, and make money, and you had no power to stop them. That didn’t seem veryfair to me.
    â€œDon’t look so worried, Mari,” Dad reassured me. “Kenya is free and independent now. Some people think that Kenya is getting stronger each and every year.”
    We walked around the gardens a little longer. The sun was setting. Many of the other tourists were heading out for the day. The Ngong hills in the distance looked peaceful.

Chapter Two
    WELCOME TO MAASAI MARA
    With her science gear loaded on a Land Rover, Mom whistled to us to hop in.
    â€œTime to go to Maasai Mara!” Mom said as she revved the engine. “We’ve got a four hour drive and I’d like to reach camp before sunset.”
    I knew Mom was in a hurry. The roads into Maasai Mara, a national reserve, were said to be rough. Mom wanted to drive during daylight. She didn’t want to be stuck in the middle of nowhere at night with lions prowling around. Tomas and I stuffed our backpacks behind our seats, buckled up, and got ready to see more of Kenya.
    Rains had washed out many of the roads in Maasai Mara National Reserve. The truck rumbled through muddy ruts across the grassy savannah.Inside the truck, we rocked from left to right as Mom steered the truck through the rough terrain. Six hours later, we arrived at camp.
    Our askari, or guard, was waiting for us at camp. Nigel led groups of people into the reserve every day. He was trained to track animals and protect tourists from wild animals and poachers.
    â€œWelcome to Maasai Mara, Perez family! Make yourself at