Socially Distant Safari

We shouldn’t compare our hardships. I know this. If comparison is the thief of joy, it is also the thief of compassion, because we cannot live our lives by the standards and circumstances of others.

I say this because, after the world passed the grim milestone of more than half a million dead in this pandemic, it feels exceedingly petty to complain about entertaining children at home. Of course keeping kids occupied is a hiccup compared to the tragedy faced by friends and family around the globe.

And yet, isn’t it okay to be honest with ourselves? Isn’t it okay to accept that frustrations, however they stack up against death and disease and loss, are still frustrating? Things could be worse. Thank goodness things could be worse! But if we could only grapple with sadness and despair when we are the most sad and most despairing, our brains would explode.

This masked gorilla greeted us on our Oklahoma City Zoo Safari Walk. Photo by Greg Elwell

Isolating myself is not the issue. It’s not been the highlight of my life, but I can deal. There are so many places and people and activities for which I yearn, but, as an adult, I can weigh the relative risks and rewards in ways my son and daughter cannot. Which is a long way of saying we’ve been watching a lot of TV, playing a lot of video games, building a lot of LEGOs, and putting together our fair share of puzzles.

I find myself longing to give them the kind of summers I had as a bored, careless child, but it’s a different world. Still, when the fine folks at the Oklahoma City Zoo reopened their gates for Safari Walks, I thought, “This could be it!”

I’m not sure about your kids, but mine could probably spend the entire trip to the zoo on the playgrounds. When we’d arrive, I’d always offer to take them to whichever animal most held their interest at the moment, but they would beg to hit the playgrounds instead. Let them loose and they’d immediately meet up with a bunch of random kids for a game of tag or make believe that could, conservatively, last a few hours.

That’s not an option right now, much to our collective chagrin. But being outside and near wild animals is so much more interesting than rewatching Johnny Test in their pajamas with dad for another day, so we were all excited.

Check-in is staggered to help with social distancing. Photo by Greg Elwell

Saying “things are different now” doesn’t seem like enough, but at least it’s accurate. My kids are loathe to wear their masks—I don’t particularly love it myself, but safety and responsibility win out—and they’re often the sort to run ahead and run back, using up some of their boundless reserves of energy. But when we go for a Safari Walk, we have to observe the rules.

The first rule is actually for me, and not them. No more parachuting into the zoo when we’re at loose ends. If you want to go on a Safari Walk, you need to go to okczoo.org/safari and reserve your ticket. This is how they’re controlling crowds. And if you think it’s a hassle for the consumer, believe you me, it’s much harder for the zoo. Summer is prime time for family friendly entertainment and if they had their druthers, they’d let everybody in.

When you arrive at the scheduled time, you line up six feet apart from the other families and wait your turn to enter. No one inside the zoo is monitoring how close you get to other people, so we try our best read the crowds and speed up or slow down to give ourselves and everyone the room they need.

Masked up for safety! Photo by Greg Elwell

As we walked around, we found the zoo had put out tons of hand sanitizer bottles for us to use, and we used them. I wish more people were wearing masks, as every zoo staffer was, but I can’t control what anyone else does. I just hope those who choose not to mask up respect our choices the way we’re respecting theirs.

Our previous scattershot approach to looking at the animals is gone, as well. The zoo is now a one-way trek through almost all of the exhibits (barring a few of the indoor, enclosed spaces) with a few shortcuts for when your youngest walker can no longer bear the burden of being ambulatory.

There are changes. There have to be changes. We can wish all day long that the world would rewind to its pre-pandemic ways, but it’s going to take time and patience and some sacrifices to get there. Going to the Oklahoma City Zoo isn’t going to be the same for a while yet, but at least it’s open. At least you can visit it responsibly. For now, for my kids and myself, that has to be enough.

Written By

Greg Elwell

Greg Elwell served as research editor and web editor of Oklahoma Today from 2018-2023. He also has worked for newspapers, medical research organizations, and government institutions.