M6: Botswana!

     I alighted on the Gaborone airstrip, and a perky flight attendant announced our arrival. I didn't get how anyone could be perky after a 16 hour plane ride. Because I was going to modern Botswana, I had to deal with commercial travel. When I left the airport, I was blinded by the bright sun glinting of the sparse skyscrapers. Gaborone was the capital of Botswana, but with only 191,776 people, it paled in the face of New York. I stopped for a lunch of pounded meat (a popular dish in Botswana) and took a cab 200 miles to the central Kalahari Game Reserve.
     After 3 hours of dealing with a hostile cab driver, I had finally arrived at the game reserve. The reserve is the second largest in the world, covering about 32,808 square miles. Tall, sun-bleached grass swayed in the mellow wind below a never ending expanse of blue sky. Last year I had gotten my safari license, so I rented a jeep and set out by myself. Giraffes, cheetahs, leopards, hyenas, and warthog are just a sample of the abundant wildlife that calls the Central Kalahari Game Reserve home. What I really wanted to see, however, was a lion. As I drove along a dirt road, I heard a loud snarl emit from under my vehicle.
     After braking quickly, I peered at the ground below me. A lion cub batted my face with a soft paw. For a moment, I was entranced. The cubs tan fur stuck out at odd angles, and his big brown eyes seemed to melt my soul. After ooohing and awwing over how cute the cub was, I started to wonder what he was doing here. The circumstance bewildered me, until I noticed a large scratch in his side. I realized that the cub must have been abandoned after his mother noticed that he was losing blood rapidly. As a reflex, I started to grab him. He let out a low, malignant growl. Deciding that I couldn't pick him up safely, I climbed back in the car to get help.
     I turned the key, but nothing happened. The jeep sputtered before dying all the way. Ducking beneath the car again, I cautiously approached the injured cub. In one fluid motion, I threw him into the passenger seat. I wrapped him in my jacket while he was still stunned by the throw. Shoving him in my pack, I started to walk back the way I came. The hot sun produced a line of sweat along my brow. Growing exhausted, I almost gave up. Just then, a mournful whine came from my pack, reminding me why I needed to keep going.
     Finally, just as the horizon was erupting is a golden sunset, I saw the Game Reserve Headquarters. Inspired by the dropping temperature, I sprinted the last mile of my taxing journey. After explaining what had happened to a flustered secretary, the cub was taken by some veterinarians. The head vet explained that the cub would've been a goner if I hadn't rescued him. As I was leaving, the cub let out a bittersweet purr and waved his paw, as if saying goodbye. I knew then that some things were worth sacrificing for.

M5: The Crusades

     Sitting on a wagon among a sea of carts, we were funneled into the holy city of Jerusalem. My driver, Jacob, turned left onto a different road. We followed the stream of traffic toward the West Wall. Jacob was my Jewish friend that had volunteered to show me the remains of the Jewish Temple. The Jewish temple had been destroyed by the Romans. The Western Wall was all that was left. Jerusalem was a holy city for Muslims, Jews, and Christians. Finally our wagon pulled off to the side and we got out. Just then, soldiers streamed over the walls that protected Jerusalem.
     "Jerusalem belongs to the Christians" a knight no older then 13 screamed as he vaulted over the wall. Quickly, I realized that these people were malignant Christian crusaders that believed Jerusalem should just be for Christians. They were trying to take the holy land! In an instant, we were swept up in a wave of horror. Soldiers stabbed Jews, releasing heart wrenching cries. Crusaders spit on the Western Wall and stomped on holy books. A large, hairy man came towards us with a look of hate on his face.
     He grabbed Jacob and hoisted him up by the throat. Suddenly, I snapped out of my trance. I jammed the mans nose into his skull, just as my self-defense coach had taught me. He dropped my friend and sneered at me. I dished out three swift upper cuts to his jaw, and he fell with a thud. Turning to the disheartened Jews, I gave an angry cry. "Are you going to sit here and let these Christians trample on your faith?" I yelled. "All three faiths of the book should have an equal claim to Jerusalem." Men and women stood and brushed themselves off with fiery determination. They grabbed broken boards and bricks from the street, making weapons out of junk.
     The make-shift army started down the road, where crusaders had started a bonfire with copies of the Torah and Qur'an. I joined them. Even though I'm an atheist, I still believe in religious equality. We stopped a group of crusaders in their tracks. " Jerusalem should be shared." Jacob said. "Stop destroying symbols of our faith. We are very similar." With loud battle cries, we rushed towards the fight. Blood was being shed by Jews and Christians alike. Sadly, I shook my head and zapped back to my New York Condo.
     To late, I had realized that the right way to settle religious arguments did not include dead bodies. Wars between faiths had been going on for centuries, but it didn't have to be this way. Instead of suiting my friends up for a fruitless battle, I should have organized a peaceful negotiation. I did understand, however, that beliefs were worth fighting for. I just wished we could all get along. Confused, I went to bed, leaving the heavy thinking to the scholars.