Hoe gaan dit met u vandag? That's the Afrikaans version of the southern States' "How y'all doin' today?" But I am getting ahead of myself and not allowing for an introduction. A detrimental effect of enthusiasm. First of all, I am Kimberly Kanapeckas, and I can tell you it was no accident that brought me to you, such strong and resourceful women hunters—each of you. Strength, knowledge, and fellowship are most commonly shared and experienced in numbers. I am most often known in my community as the enterprising blonde determined to become an MD, but there is another side of me that confounds most of the male population and intrigues the unsuspecting: I am a hunter.
Hunting has been a part of my life since birth. When I was a few months old, I was toted on my father's camouflage-clad back while he happily trekked through the Florida swamps, under the inarguable condition set by my mother that I be snugly adorned in a fuzzy pink jumper complete with ear warmers. At the moment Dad initiated any philosophical chat, I would nod off, leaving the conversation a secret between him and the attentive wildlife. I suppose I knew even then that the swamp, the forest, and the bush were better confidantes than I could ever aspire to be. That or I was simply tired. My parents also introduced me to saltwater fishing along the Florida coast and in San Salvador. Although I used to leave the sharks, marlin, and barracudas to the 'grown-ups,' stingrays offered a challenging fight, and were not bad eating either. I've since graduated to the bigger fish...
When I turned 10, my family relocated to a small town in South Carolina, where we have been for nearly another ten years. Our acreage is paradise for the avid hunter, and it serves as my refuge and haven. Although my PH's (Dad's) specialty was, in fact, the animal I was trying for, it still took 3.5 months to find a suitable squirrel to shoot with my .22 mag rifle. I assure you I (and my luck) have improved slightly since then.
When my family decided to make my Dad's dream of hunting Africa a reality a couple years ago, I was a little apprehensive. OKAY, OKAY, I was quite against the idea. I knew not what to expect, but I decided to go, and looking back, I shudder when I think I almost dismissed the opportunity. That experience not only rekindled my passion of hunting with a dangerous fury, but also created memories that will be with me forever, templates of my dreams on which I will certainly build. Some wonderfully understanding friends, most of them hunters, invited me into their culture without a second thought. My Afrikaans is atrocious, but at least I serve as economical entertainment for native speakers. I 
additionally want to become a PH and try my hand at guiding those who share my love to their dreams as well, but I'll cross one bridge at a time. I am living testimony to the truth that during the few short weeks of a safari, the Dark Continent will claim you as hers with an unshakable authority that is together euphoric and agonizing. The unpredictable and unfortunate political chaos of a continent ravaged by change and conflicting ulterior motives is frustrating, but I'll live this dream of mine. There's no question in the matter.
The afternoon is now growing late and hunting hours are presently upon us. I must succumb to the radiating magnetism of our favorite pastime once again. Maybe the rain will be a good thing! I eagerly await sharing my adventures and commentary with you. Happy hunting!
Respectfully yours,
Kimberly
