There are 373 reasons why should go to any of the Great Grevy Trust (GGT) events. Reason number 3 is of course to see Kasmira. Reason 1 and 2 are to support the Great Grevy Zebra and conservation respectively. Kasmira, the lovely lady who organizes events for the GGT has a way of making you feel special. Even when you are only there because your boss asked you to choose between filling in spreadsheets or attending a ball. It’s a no brainer really, but I do have amazing bosses…Hi Asim and Martha. Kasmira insists on saying hello to everyone coming into the ball. I am spying on her as I sip on a mojito (why is it pronounced mohito?) from some meters away. Even the guests who arrive surly and feeling out of place quickly embrace the party spirit. Which is good because the cold at the Mt. Kenya Safari Club does not support a chilly spirit.
I am happy when they finally lead us into the ball room. I am here for the food…partly to work but mainly for the food. I am seated next to a gentleman from the Mpala Trust, Costas. Phenomenal company. We have serious fun making fun of the Moza…something cheese on the menu. I wonder loudly which cow, pun heavily intended, decided to feed us on cheese. Turns out he designed the menu. He is a sport and forgives my foolish comment. And I in turn forgive his menu design when I find out he has included Roast Goat in the main dish. God does work in mysterious ways. The chefs who are cutting the huge chunks of meat are angels in disguise. When the chef notices me standing in line salivating, she does what a good mother would do. She beckons me forward and deposits half a kilogram of mutton on my plate. My eyes water, my hearts beats faster and my nose starts running a bit…just a bit. I am tempted to jump over that table and hug her for her kindness. But my date for the night reminds me to behave myself or she will call my mama. That scares me.
The Great Grevy ball happens to be an event where the census participants gather together for an evening of food and non-alcoholic drinks…mainly. It is an evening of introspection. Where we look at the census results and what the analysis tells us. Is the number of Great Grevy Zebras on the increase? If yes, why is this happening and what can you and I do to improve this. Professor Rubenstein, the gentleman from Stanford University who does that analysis tells us the population is growing. I want to tell you that there was thunderous applause when he said this. Unfortunately, the company I am keeping on this night is civilized. They shake their heads in approval. I push that, “whoop, whoop” that was threatening to come out back in.
After the speeches, there’s an auction for some deluxe items and holidays in swanky hotels. The one item that I am tempted to bid on is the fertility necklace from Ethiopia. My heart beats fast as they announce the start of bidding. I am wondering about all the cool things I will do with the necklace. Maybe make my grandmother’s cow wear it. Then it might give birth to twins every year. In five years, I will be a rich man with enough money to buy that Toyota Vitz I have been eyeing. The bidding starts at 5000 bob. I am promptly out, my budget was a whooping 757 shillings including taxes. And I am not sure the company would approve my buying it using the company card. Plus, imagine what the auditors would say if they saw, “Ethiopion Fertility Necklace with guaranteed results,” in the accounts records. Plus I hear the chaps over at KRA do not enjoy jokes. A tent from the good people of Tarpo was the final item on the auction agenda. I am tempted to ask them what super powers the tent has compared to the necklace. Hopefully it can cure back pain or make my girlfriend want to go out more with me in shorts. They however, refuse to answer my 13 calls in as many minutes. Until next time Tarpo, I will get my answers!
Btw this being a corporate blog post. I am of course required to provide recommendations on how to improve the next ball. My first and only suggestion is to add the amount of alcohol in the Mojito. It is immoral to put a drink in any man’s hand that will not give him a slight buzz…..Relaaaaax. I’m joking, or i’m I?
See you at the next census in 2020.