In Search of Africa
I’ve just paid $63.95 to get into Tampa’s Central Park: Busch Gardens. This is a theme park that actually purports to have a theme. I think about this. Supposedly, the theme of Busch Gardens is “Africa”. As I walk around the park, I start to wonder just what is “African” about this place. Being an English teacher, I turn to the only literature I can find-my map. In my map I find a promise, a promise that “Busch Gardens is the ultimate family adventure park offering an array of fascinating attractions based on exotic encounters with the African continent.” I am thrilled! I’ve always wanted to go to Africa, and here it is in Tampa! I delve further into the map. Although each section of the park is labeled something that sounds remotely African, I don’t understand how filling “Timbuktu” with gaudy kiddy rides and a greasy dinner show entitled “Greatest American Pop Songs on Stage” is in keeping with the promise of discovering “exotic encounters with the African continent.”
And yet, I find a glimmer of hope. There are in fact, still animals in this park. African animals. Maybe I have not been cheated after all. I quickly make my way over towards the “Edge of Africa” where the park houses animals such as elephants, hippos, gorillas, and zebras. As I turn the corner, I notice a swarm of families crowding around a glass wall. Instinctively, I change my direction to head towards the commotion. Even as I inch my way closer to the edge of the crowd, I can’t see what they are all staring at. All that I can see, and hear, and smell are the dozens of people pushing in all around me. To my left, there is a kid about 5 years old who is screaming his head off “I WANT COTTON CANDY NOW! NOOOW.” His parent is obviously doing a better job of ignoring him than I can. I can’t tell whether the awful smell is coming from the elephants or the baby to my left. The crowd starts pushing in behind me as more people join the mob. I am now officially trapped. A group of Japanese tourists cram so close into me that a camera is poking into my back. Their talk is gibberish. At least I could enjoy eavesdropping if I could translate a single word.
Finally, a man in front of me moves and I can see over a group of tiny little heads what all the fuss is about. We are all crowded around the lion exhibit. Unlike most zoos I have been to, there is actually a lion present. Furthermore, this isn’t just any lion-this is a crazed, furious, and violent lion; roaring and scratching at the six inches of glass that separates him from a savage feast. He paces, takes a few steps backwards, and leaps at the glass, slamming so hard into the barrier that he falls down. Undefeated, he picks himself up and makes another attempt. The crowd is going wild. Flashes from cameras click as I feel a shudder going up my spine. The little kids in front of me are dancing spastically. Two of these brats are actually making faces at the desperate lion, pounding on the glass, taunting the beast’s inability to escape.
One man in the crowd asks the trainer how far back the habitat of the lion goes, and why he can’t eat the antelope that are grazing peacefully in the background. The trainer gives a snide chuckle, and replies, “The lion can’t actually reach the antelope! His habitat actually only stretches back about ten feet-you see those bushes? That’s as far as he can go without being shocked! The architects of the park designed it that way-to make you think he has all that space. It’s an optical illusion!” The crowd laughs with him and tears are welling up in my eyes and I feel like I might choke on the irony. I did find a part of Africa-futilely trapped in an optical illusion and prostituted for profit.
And yet, I find a glimmer of hope. There are in fact, still animals in this park. African animals. Maybe I have not been cheated after all. I quickly make my way over towards the “Edge of Africa” where the park houses animals such as elephants, hippos, gorillas, and zebras. As I turn the corner, I notice a swarm of families crowding around a glass wall. Instinctively, I change my direction to head towards the commotion. Even as I inch my way closer to the edge of the crowd, I can’t see what they are all staring at. All that I can see, and hear, and smell are the dozens of people pushing in all around me. To my left, there is a kid about 5 years old who is screaming his head off “I WANT COTTON CANDY NOW! NOOOW.” His parent is obviously doing a better job of ignoring him than I can. I can’t tell whether the awful smell is coming from the elephants or the baby to my left. The crowd starts pushing in behind me as more people join the mob. I am now officially trapped. A group of Japanese tourists cram so close into me that a camera is poking into my back. Their talk is gibberish. At least I could enjoy eavesdropping if I could translate a single word.
Finally, a man in front of me moves and I can see over a group of tiny little heads what all the fuss is about. We are all crowded around the lion exhibit. Unlike most zoos I have been to, there is actually a lion present. Furthermore, this isn’t just any lion-this is a crazed, furious, and violent lion; roaring and scratching at the six inches of glass that separates him from a savage feast. He paces, takes a few steps backwards, and leaps at the glass, slamming so hard into the barrier that he falls down. Undefeated, he picks himself up and makes another attempt. The crowd is going wild. Flashes from cameras click as I feel a shudder going up my spine. The little kids in front of me are dancing spastically. Two of these brats are actually making faces at the desperate lion, pounding on the glass, taunting the beast’s inability to escape.
One man in the crowd asks the trainer how far back the habitat of the lion goes, and why he can’t eat the antelope that are grazing peacefully in the background. The trainer gives a snide chuckle, and replies, “The lion can’t actually reach the antelope! His habitat actually only stretches back about ten feet-you see those bushes? That’s as far as he can go without being shocked! The architects of the park designed it that way-to make you think he has all that space. It’s an optical illusion!” The crowd laughs with him and tears are welling up in my eyes and I feel like I might choke on the irony. I did find a part of Africa-futilely trapped in an optical illusion and prostituted for profit.