Squinting past the billowing cloud of dust that obscured my vision, I held my camera up and started clicking away. A lioness was watching her three small cubs roll and play about in the tall grass, not 10 feet away. One of the cubs suddenly paused and glanced up at the 15 Jeeps gathered in a loose circle around them.

I was in Africa.

My family and I were on a two-and-a-half week safari that took us to five national parks around central and southern Kenya.

At the Maasai Mara National Park, The Great Migration, an annual migration of millions of wildebeest and zebra to the Maasai Mara from Tanzania, was in full force. Wildebeests roamed the grounds, forming huge lines that stretched across the plains. Of course, this meant that the predators were out too.

As afternoon approached, we were alerted about a pride of lionesses with cubs not far away, and we immediately sped off in that direction.

Upon arriving, our driver pointed out a pride of 10 lionesses slowly making their way toward us and explained that they would try to bring down one of the wildebeests just across the river. The concentration in their eyes and the tension in their muscles were terrifying.

Because there were so many Land Rovers watching the scene, the lionesses used them as a way to hide from their prey.

Suddenly, our driver told me, in a somewhat panicked tone, to slowly get down from the roof of our Jeep. Before I did, however, I quickly glanced down and had the biggest shock of my life.

A lioness was slowly walking right beside our Jeep, her coat brushing the outside of the vehicle. If I had reached my hand out, I would have been able to pet her. I was so stunned that I forgot to take pictures, but I will never forget the moment she made eye contact with me as I cautiously sat back down.

Because the park was nearing its closing time, we had to leave before the lionesses actually started their hunt, much to my disappointment. Nonetheless, the day was a success, as my family had spotted 31 lions in a single day.

Aside from the game drives, we also had the opportunity to visit a nearby tribal Maasai village, where  we were welcomed by three young Maasai men, all dressed in bright, vibrant sarong-like wraps. At the entrance, a line of women, who were dressed in even more colorful wraps adorned with decorative beads, started to sing a traditional welcoming song for visitors. The women were singing in groups, and each group jumped forward when their part of the song arrived. The song was a lighthearted and beautiful rhythmic chant.

I fell in love with their culture almost instantly and how they always tried to make the best of what was provided. They were such positive people; it felt like a home away from home.

We started the tour with a look inside of a traditional Maasai house. It was quite  cramped, with only two rooms: a kitchen and a bedroom. I could see how the smoke and soot from the stove had collected on the ceiling in thin ropes.

It was quite shocking to see how simply they lived, compared to the luxurious, expensive homes in Saratoga. While I had trouble living without Internet for just two weeks, the Maasai live without electricity on a daily basis.

Next, the Maasai explained some of their rituals and ceremonies. The tribe is heavily reliant on their hunters, and the men told of fighting off lions and stealing their kills for the village.

By the end of the day, our family had amazing souvenirs to take home from the Maasai: antique masks, a spear that had been in one of the warrior’s family for generations and two ebony staffs.

Now I know how people feel when they say that a trip to Africa is the trip of a lifetime. I have memories that I will never forget.