Miami, From

Zoo Miami

It’s hot—93 degrees to be exact. But, then again, it's Miami. It’s always hot, sometimes pleasant.

We arrive around 10 o’clock to Zoo Miami. It’s not my first rodeo. I know the drill, some in the group want to feed the giraffes, others want to be anywhere but in the humid, sticky, sun-drenched, asphalt filled zoo.

“How are we going to do this?” I ask.

There are 30 campers. I’ve worked with some several years but others are new.

“Last year, we did groups,” I say. That was kinda of a disaster. Everyone wanted to feed the giraffes but a group also wanted to rent a four people bike-thingy. Others wanted to go to the water park. The renters got there late; almost missed the feeding. They were pissed. The water-parkers never got to the water park.

“Well, how did you do this last year?” I’m asked. I explain. “Why don’t you handle it then, I didn’t come last year.”

I turn and face the dismembered group. “Everyone in a line, please,” I say. I sign. I repeat. I repeat again.

10 minutes later, we have a—well, it’s a line.

“Count and remember your number.”

The kids start calling out numbers. “1, 2, 3 … 15.”

“Okay remember that. Kids with numbers are with them,” I say pointing at two of the counselors. “The ones without numbers are with us. The kids with numbers and their counselors enter now; we will wait and enter later.”

In a couple of minutes, I have separated couples, kids with ‘beef,’ and kids who don’t get along with certain counselors. I couldn’t have planned it better even if I had planned it. Most of the boys who don’t care about the giraffes are with my group. The other group is on the run to get to the end of the park to feed the giraffes. It’s a trek—I mean, a hot, humid, pretend it’s not a swamp, but it is a swamp type of trek.

“Yo, pay attention,” I say with a smile on my face. We are the fun group. Let’s go to the water park.

The kids cheer.

“We didn’t know we had a water park.”

“I didn’t bring clothes.”

It doesn’t matter. They all get in.

It’s hot.

Don’t get me wrong. We got to see the tiger rolling around in the grass like it was a kitty—a rarity.

We looked for the monkeys and other animals along the way, but the thing about 93℉ weather is that the animals are smart. They are all hiding. It’s too hot to be anywhere visible.

They know it; it’s us that do not.