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Grew up in Tanzania. Used to go out camping at a family friend's green garnet gemstone mine in a place called Neberera.
We never packed any meat, always shot something. Usually zebra or hartebeest, sometimes impala.
The kids were free to run amok round the camp. One year, when I was 7, myself and a mate crawled up to a flock of helmeted guinea fowl and I got one with an old Anschutz .22lr we were allowed to use. We plucked it, gutted it, cleaned it and the cook made soup that night. Best fucking soup I ever had.
Pick related, Tanzania.
