Why Girl Scouts matter

Already, only few days into my Africa journey, I ask myself: Now why did I fly up and out after Brownies?

I was initiated into Girl Scouts in the late 1960s, but for some reason after the ceremony where you look into the water, which is really a mirror, I took my prissy self home and said I was done. I got interested instead in fashion, Tiger Beat, Bobby Sherman and David Cassidy, not tying knots, orienteering and earning badges for firestarting. I figured I'd had enough training after having crafted my "sit-upon" out of old newspapers at one Brownies meeting and singing the Indian (now Native American) song, "Hi-ya! Hi-ya, ipsi ni-yah!" around a fake campfire in a Sunday School room at the Lutheran church where our troop met.

Any Girl Scout wouldn't have made the mistake I did yesterday. I was walking from Riverwalk shopping center (did I mention free wireless?), along a major highway, past people waiting for public transportation -- mini-buses called combis. The only vegetation in sight along my side of the road was one beautiful tree with feathery green leaves. I ducked under its branches to pass. Next thing I knew I was living a horror flick. That tree had thorns -- no kidding -- four inches long, shaped like Freddy Kruger's fingernails. They grabbed my white shirt and wouldn't let go. The more I moved, the bigger the holes being poked in my shirt -- and my right arm. It was as if I was getting that smallpox vaccine all over again. Those people in the combi line must have been laughing. I was jumping around -- ouch ouch -- and tearing my newly pressed cotton shirt. When I finally freed myself, I hung my head and walked on, rubbing my arm, humiliated again at my lack of wilderness skills. When I got home I inspected what was a nasty bruise and puncture wound. I showed it to Puni. "Do you think I'm going to die from this? Are those trees poisonous?"

She laughed at me. Obviously, she thinks I will be fine. Then she offered me some advice. Don't step in elephant dung. Elephants eat those trees and the thorns show up in the dung. Why -- those thorns will shoot right up through your foot if you step in it! Very dangerous!

Great. Another thing to worry about in the outdoors.
I bet Girl Scouts know which trees to avoid and don't have to be reminded not to step in elephant dung. But not dropouts. Oh, no, not dropouts. Hi-ya. Hi-ya. Ipsi-ni-yah.
Oh, well.
Since I'm at the mall I'm thinking of going shopping for girly-girl stuff. It looks awfully safe in there.