The first day on Mafia Island had us venturing out on a little boat with just my mom, me, our guide, and our captain. As soon as we spotted some whale sharks we jumped in with snorkels on. The water was calm and the sun was shining. I got pretty sunburnt that day and a few little jellyfish stings. I was the only one that got stung and the guide teased me that it was because I was white. That was a first! Day two on Mafia Island, we boarded an old wood boat after a crash course on scuba diving. My mom, our divemaster, and I did two couple-hour-long dives. I love the freedom diving gives you to explore and the views are amazing. I try to dive every place that I can (Cancun, Hawaii, Africa).
The next day, we were back out chasing whale sharks with a different guide. We walked over to another beach and watched as a man swam out and took a cut-off milk jug to remove water from the hull of the boat. He continued this for the duration of the day. He was the bilge pump. My mom and I along with three other passengers boarded this boat on a bit of a stormy morning. The waves were taller than the boat and one of the gals on board did end up puking. None of us felt great. We were on the boat for around forty-five minutes including a couple of minutes that the engine quit working and they pulled the motor up to make some adjustments before we spotted some whale sharks. My mom asked me if I was jumping in. The water was so rough. I said “I didn’t get this seasick to not see some whale sharks” and jumped overboard. I don’t know how much salt water I swallowed as the waves came over my snorkel but it was worth it to see more of these amazing creatures. I love them.
On our final day on Mafia Island, we rented two motorbikes from some local boys for $10 each. I would not have done the spontaneous part of the trip if my mom hadn’t instigated. I rode behind our guide and my mom rode her own bike. We both have our class M endorsement but she is a much more experienced rider than I am. Our guide said he wanted to show us some hippos that lived on the island. First we had to fuel up. We stopped at the gas station which consisted of a wood shed with 1 liter soda bottles that had been filled with gasoline. We paid for a couple of liters of fuel, put them in the gas tanks and deposited the empty soda bottles into a laundry basket. Next we had to stop at a village to find the guy that knew how to find the hippos. This was probably a half hour ride on dirt roads to a small village. I asked why all the kids we passed were so excited and he informed me that they don’t see many white people in this area. When we stopped at the village, our guide asked us to stay with the bikes and he wandered off. A little while later, he returned with a man named Juma. Juma could talk to hippos. My mom wasn’t comfortable with Juma riding on the back of her bike because there was no healthcare and we were about to embark on some rougher roads and my mom was concerned about being responsible for injuring someone if she went down. So my guide was in front, me in the middle and Juma on the back of this little bike as we took off on a sandy one track through a thick forested area. We arrived at Juma’s house and met his wife. From what I understood, the hippos here were causing a lot of trouble, but Juma hung out with them a lot so the island appointed him the hippo caretaker. The translations were a bit rough. We left Juma’s house on foot into a swamp. It was at this point in time, I thought to myself that no one would ever find me if this was actually how I died, but I felt safe enough with our guide and our new friend, Juma. We found a small vantage point looking out over the swamp. Our guide told us to look out there and we wouldn’t see any hippos. Then Juma climbed up a tree and started clapping and hollering. Next thing I know, a hippo popped up out of the water. We hung out and watched him for a bit before backtracking all the way back to our hotel.
Our final morning waking up in Africa, we packed up our bags and headed to the airport. My mom was sick all the way home. She vomited frequently and on our international flight, they let her lay down in one of the cross sections near the bathrooms on the floor. When we landed in the states, technology found her unrecognizable from her departure photos due to dehydration and the weight she lost. As she hobbled through customs, she asked me not to leave her. Then, they separated us because they couldn’t verify her identity. She was placed in another room while they went over her paperwork and finally decided she was who she said she was.
Africa will always be one of my most memorable trips because it was Africa and because my mom joined me in all her learning experiences.
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