Big girl pants

by rebecca Keane (Australia)

I didn't expect to find Zimbabwe

Who goes all the way from Melbourne to Zimbabwe to meet and make new friends from Melbourne? Seems a rather unnecessary effort, but of course this was not my initial intention. I had intended to finally live my dream of seeing giraffes in their own back yard, seeing those big red savannah sunsets as promised by the safari brochures, and to see it all on my own, with no partner or friend to hold my hand if I got scared. I had packed my big girl pants, and was ready to be a brave, independent woman. This post-breakup trip was not about human connection, it was about knowing I would be okay without it. However, I was about to find out that sometimes travel has a way of giving us what we need, instead of what we think we need. I had booked a group camping tour of Southern Africa and, during the pre-departure debrief and introductions, I met Kate and Johnnie. They were from Melbourne and here on their honeymoon. I marvelled at the idea that they had chosen to camp under big African skies and travel overland with a group of strangers instead of the more classic 'beach and cocktails' honeymoon combo. I could tell straight away that these were top-shelf humans, and we became friends with a speed and ease not often experienced in adulthood. And so, by Day One, I found myself unexpectedly yet totally taken by the beauty of travelling alone, but not alone. Following a spectacular stroll around Victoria Falls, the group had been taken to an office where we had the option of signing up for some day tours and experiences the following day. Luckily for me, Kate and Johnnie both wanted to do the Lion Walk and the Zip-line. So did I. Actually, I was a little undecided what with all the amazing adventurous options on offer, but good company for the solo traveler is a powerful deciding factor. It seems my big girl pants had already been neatly folded and tucked to the bottom of my suitcase, as I chose to stick with my new mates. The three of us took off along the bridge bordering Zimbabwe and Zambia to get to our zip-line. We marveled at the monkeys climbing over trucks and playing on the fences, wildly indifferent to the constant foot traffic of curious humans they must meet on a daily basis. We were lazily waved pass the border checkpoint by a tired official who appeared equally indifferent to us, and then we paused to peer over the bridge. Kate, however, refused to come to the edge. She announced at this point that she was scared of heights. Johnnie jumped in to clarify that she was in fact not in scared of heights...she was terrified. I couldn't help but laugh. Did she realize what we were about to do? Did she understand that she was about to be strapped to a harness and jump off a cliffs edge to fly across a thin wire strung up high above the raging Zambezi River? She said she understood. I said I did not, So she explained then a philosophy as simple as it was profound. She would always be afraid of heights, but she would not always have the opportunity to zipline over the Zambizi River. She would be terrified, but she was doing it anyway. It was an epiphany on a busy bridge. Bravery was not the absence of fear, but deciding to do things in the presence of fear. I did not need to be fiercely independent to the point of rejecting human connection to prove to myself that I was okay with being alone. I could just be me, scared and all, and have amazing experiences with amazing people with all our insecurities on show. Kate has never been good with heights, and yet she jumped off the edge of Zambia and zip-lined high and fast across to Zimbabwe. There were tears. There were swear words. And then there was a memory to last a lifetime. I followed her, first on the zipline, then into a new attitude of self-acceptance. Talk about putting on your big girl pants.