Chapter 8

Just as they were dressed, a knock on the door interrupted their quiet moment. Karen’s heart skipped a beat, her mind racing with thoughts of who it could be. She called out, “Just a minute,” her voice steady despite the tumult of emotions within her.

When she opened the door, she found Mr. Hanru standing there, his smile warm and welcoming. “Ah, Mrs. Karen, Jason,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “I trust you’ve had a refreshing shower? It’s time for dinner and the traditional ceremonial event we talked about earlier.”

Jason’s cheeks flushed at the reminder of their earlier conversation, but he quickly composed himself, eager to join in the festivities. Karen took a deep breath, pushing aside any lingering awkwardness, and stepped aside to let their guide into the room.

Mr. Hanru noticed the tension between them, but he was too much of a gentleman to comment. Instead, he handed them each an intricately woven garment. “Please, wear these,” he said with a nod. “It is a sign of respect to the tribe we will be visiting tonight.”

They each took the offered garments, feeling the soft fabric against their skin. The garments were simple but elegant, designed to pay homage to the local culture without being overly flashy. Jason looked at his mother, her blonde hair still damp from the shower, and felt a rush of affection mixed with something else, something that made his heart race in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

As they dressed in the traditional African attire, Karen couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of pride in her son. He had grown so much in the past few weeks, both as a wrestler and as a young man. And she knew that she had played a part in that growth, both in the ring and out of it.

The dinner was a feast of colorful dishes and spicy aromas that filled the air with a tantalizing promise of flavor. The local tribe had gone all out to welcome their guests, and Karen and Jason were seated at a table with the elders, a sign of respect and honor.

The ceremonial event was a whirlwind of music and dance, the rhythmic beating of drums echoing through the night air. The dancers were a mix of children and adults, their movements fluid and mesmerizing. Jason found himself drawn into the festivities, his own passion for the sport of wrestling reflected in the fierce determination of the dancers’ expressions.

Karen watched him, her heart swelling with pride. He had come so far, and she knew that the bond they had forged would only grow stronger with each new experience they shared. And as the night drew to a close, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation for what tomorrow would bring. The African wilderness awaited them, and she knew that together, they could conquer anything.

The ride back to the hotel was quiet, the hum of the engine the only sound in the car. Mr. Hanru broke the silence with a gentle reminder. “Mrs. Karen, Jason,” he said, his eyes on the road ahead, “we have an early flight tomorrow morning. I want to ensure that you both are prepared with all your equipment, especially your cameras. You don’t want to miss capturing the beauty of the big five on this once-in-a-lifetime adventure.”

Once they were back in their hotel room, Karen and Jason stepped out onto the balcony, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the heat of their earlier shower. They sat side by side, the wooden chair creaking slightly under their weight. The city lights of Pretoria twinkled like distant stars, a stark reminder of the world outside their intimate bubble.

“The ceremonial dance was amazing,” Jason said, his voice filled with wonder. “The energy, the passion ... it was like watching a battle without the violence.”

Karen chuckled, her eyes reflecting the city lights. “You know, Jason, there are many women in the tribe who don’t wear a bra. It’s their way of embracing their natural beauty.”

Jason nodded, still pondering the cultural differences. “But why don’t the boys and men get aroused?” he asked, his curiosity unabated.

“It’s all about context, baby,” Karen replied, her voice gentle. “In their everyday lives, it’s natural for them to see each other’s bodies. It’s not something they sexualize. For us, it’s a bit more complicated. But here, on this safari, we’re going to learn from them. To be more open, to appreciate the beauty of our own forms without the guilt or shame that society sometimes puts on us.”

Jason nodded thoughtfully, his eyes still on the twinkling cityscape. He knew his mother was speaking from experience, her past as a wrestler had taught her to be comfortable in her own skin. “So, when we were in the shower,” he began, “you let me ... because you knew I was curious?”