A few years ago, my wife and I celebrated our honeymoon in south India. At one point, in the hills of Kerala, we decided to take a hike into Periyar Tiger Preserve. Our guesthouse arranged for a guide to take us, early the following morn. I’d read that entry permits to the park didn’t allow for ins ‘n’ outs, so we planned to stay in the park for the day, culminating in a cruise on the lake that afternoon. Our guide told us our hike would be in a portion of the park contained by the neighboring state, Tamil Nadu, which didn’t require permits for entry. So, we’d have to come back out, the way we went in, and make our way 'round to the Keralan entrance later.
Long story short: the whole trek was illegal, and once rangers intercepted us, we spent a few hours milling about the ranger station, waiting for asst’d bureaucratic hurdles to be hurdled. On the plus side, we saw more exotic wildlife at the ranger station, in town, than we had in our hour of jungle trekking!
Incidentally, we didn’t kill any tigers. Or try, for that matter. Or want to, even.
Anyway, my point is: on a vacation, in a faraway land, one often finds oneself in situations demanding trust of the locals. I can’t speak for this dentist, but I know my wife and I had no interest in illegally breaking into a national park. I mean, sure, we weren’t shelling out $50,000 for anything–park fees amounted to the price of a cinema ticket, and we were plenty willing to pay it–but whatever the price, one can never be quite sure it won’t outbid the scruples of the other party in a given transaction.
I don’t know what this guy’s deal was, but I don’t doubt it involved a whole lot of, “for $50,000, we guarantee you will be able to shoot at a lion”, followed by “guides” making plenty sure to get a lion into his path, by any means necessary. I mean, I’m a bit grossed out by the whole notion of a hunting safari, and if all the opprobrium this guy’s reaping contributes to diminishing the appeal of such quests, then great, but despite how distasteful, or even abhorrent many of us find what he considers a cherished pastime, I can’t help but empathize with those who stumble so unwittingly, like Justine Sacco, into a life-wrecking internet shitstorm (although, granted, his wouldn’t be the first life wrecked in this particular situation).