By Louise Sorel

June 21, 11 a.m. — British Airways flew through the skies and brought me down in Africa, into a sea of smiles and embraces. This was Nairobi, Kenya. I was told by friends who had been here that it would be transforming, but I did not expect the transformation to be so sudden. How do you explain an innate sense of belonging and a feeling of safety in such a short time? I was on a trip with International Fund for Animal Welfare (IFAW), an organization devoted to the protection of wildlife all over the world. I was here because I had heard a speech last November at a fund-raiser in New York by James Isitche from Tsavo National Park and was profoundly moved by his dedication. I am an animal lover and knew there was a reason I was there. I pledged to him that I would come to Africa and here I was. A safari had been organized for our group of like-minded people to meet and better understand the need for equipment, funds and support and to fight the poaching of elephants, rhinoceros, zebra and other animals that are so threatened that they may become extinct.

Our first stop was Meru National Park, which is situated north of Nairobi near Mt. Kenya. Our chartered flight took the 12 of us and our fearless guide from Westminster Safari Tours to a landing strip just minutes from our quarters — appropriately called Elsa's Kopje. This is named after Elsa, the famous lion from Born Free and sits on a kopje, which is Swahili for hilltop. It sits high above the oxblood red of Meru National Park. A more beautiful and romantic place seemed impossible. Our quarters were carved into the rocks, and as we made our way to our rooms, over curving stone paths shaded in foliage, we came upon our first animal, a rock hyrax. This is a relative of the elephant — think rats on steroids without tails! Now it's odd, but we suddenly felt an affinity for these strange little creatures and they took on cartoon-like personalities as they scampered about. We were treated to a sumptuous lunch, swim and massage. Late in the afternoon, we piled into our outfitted Land Cruisers to go on our first game drive. Bouncing over rugged roads we started to spot zebras, giraffes, baboons, impalas, elephants, buffalos and varying birds, such as the white-bellied go-away bird, the tropical bau bau (boo boo) and many guinea fowl. We were told how Meru had progressed in the last few years, as it had many economical and poaching problems. IFAW stepped in here and equipped the park with vehicles and helped transport elephants to the region. Equal to the beauty of the animals is the beauty of the Kenyan spirit. They see the sun when it rains and the moon when there are clouds.

We spent two nights inhaling our first breaths of the intoxicating air and had a wonderful, healthy meal at a long trestle table. On our second night, the table was moved out under a full moon and it was heaven. We were fast becoming a tribe. The group consisted of three sisters from Washington, D.C., a doctor from Cape Cod and his adorable, feisty, Irish girlfriend, a photographer and his wife from New York, two very funny guys from San Francisco, one of the IFAW members who had arranged the trip, myself and the daughter of one of the sisters. It was a very diverse, but cohesive group of animal lovers.

Our three guides were handsome, funny and knowledgeable. As soon as I saw our leader at the airport, I knew nothing would happen to us. He was our very witty camp counselor. Because he had a certain paternal quality, we were spurred on to be somewhat bratty (well, some of us) and it became a game to keep us in order and get us to where we had to be without hysteria. We did cover a lot of ground in a short time and our game drives were intense.

We took our second chartered flight to Lake Nakuru, which is in Tsavo East National Park and is famed for its thousands of pink flamingos. As we swooped over the lake it seemed to be ribboned in pink foam. As we got closer, and the flamingos became defined, everyone gasped at the sight. We buzzed the air strip twice to scare off some lounging zebras and landed in a cloud of dust. Boarding our Land Cruisers, which had been driven down from Elsa's, we drove down to the water to commune with the birds and some zebras and photograph this most stunning sight. Acclimating ourselves to the new terrain, we collected shells, spotted some more zebras (a perfect creature) and headed to a lecture from the warden of the area and lunch in the park. That night, we stayed in a private home dating from colonial days and went for a sunset horseback ride — a very unexpected event after such a long day, but worth it. The next day we flew to Tsavo West and another unexpectedly beautiful lodging. This was Galdessa, an oasis on a hill overlooking a river, where we watched hippos bathe and elephants chomp on leaves of surrounding trees. Here we had more game drives and the land had a more desert-like, expansive feel. I felt compelled to write as I gazed out from my perfectly appointed tent, complete with stone bathroom and enormous bed. Up at 7 a.m. — coffee served on a tray by Samuel, the man who led me back every night to my tent accompanied by a Masai. They are from Tanzania and were the guards used to protect us from lion and hippo visits. I inquired whether a lion or a hippo was talented enough to unzip my tent and Samuel reassured me that it wouldn't happen. The midnight snacking hippos and the sound of lions calling to each other did pretty much stop my heart, but by the second night I was swinging my flashlight back and forth through the brush Masai-style. Here in Tsavo West we were blessed with the chance to feed the elephants who had been orphaned and saved by the David Sheldrick Foundation. They were young, but not babies, and to see them come bounding over a hill and make a beeline for the milk bottles and caretakers, the liquid dribbling down their excited and oh so gentle faces is enough to make grown men weep.