My Neighbors Are Not Your Neighbors (First Impressions of Kenya)

New bandas, roommates, teachers, weather, and new neighbors.  It was inevitable that leaving Tanzania’s Moyo Hill Camp for my new home in Kenya would provide all new elements of my stay in East Africa, but I was unaware of just how dramatic the differences would be. 

   Crossing the border into Kenya was easy, and took little effort on our part.  After having our passports stamped when leaving Tanzania, we literally walked across the border into Kenya to have our visas stamped for our new country of residence.  I do my best to keep exaggerations to a minimum – and there have been none recorded in these posts – but I feel I am also not exaggerating when I say that I could feel the heat increase the farther into Kenya we walked.  We were led a short distance to a lodge for midday-lunch (complete with signs saying “do not feed the monkeys”) and I felt I had lost weight in just the short half-hour I had been here!  The elevation is much lower than in Tanzania, and we are right along the equator… and we’re feeling every bit of this equatorial heat. 

   Our trip from Moyo Hill to Kilimanjaro Bush Camp took about 10 hours.  And here is where the differences between camps begins:

   Location: KBC is very remote, and the nearest town is an hour’s walk away, whereas Moyo Hill was right next to a town.  However, here in Kenya we are situated at the base of the famous Mt. Kilimanjaro, and I can literally see the snowy caps from the showers… which brings me to my next note of distinctions.

   Amenities: While we have internet and electricity, it is all turned off at 11pm.  It’s pitch-black here at night, and the stars are brilliant in their shining splendor.  I could sit out all night and stare at them if it weren’t for the excess of black mambas (a deadly snake).  Fresh water is sparse and reserved, but it is a drier country.  Electricity is limited to the chumba (dining-hall/classroom), library, and a gazebo that is far away and somewhat isolated from our home.

   Living Quarters (banda): My two new roommates are lovely (I am very lucky), and we share a banda fitted for four residents.  No bunked beds, and all are equipped with mosquito nets.  We have to be much more vigilant here in Kenya.  For example, we must always have our mosquito nets tucked in to avoid having snakes/rats/creepy-crawlies make their way into our sleeping-bags.  Also, shoes need to be shaken out periodically to check for scorpions.  Baboons and elephants are always wandering through our camp.  In fact, my first morning in KBC involved waking up to a family of baboons sitting on our banda porch and roof. 

   KBC: The site is 24 acres large, whereas Moyo Hill is only 3 acres.  We have a river in which hippos and other water-animals reside, and sometimes hippos like to wander close to camp as well.

   In short, KBC is remote, more dangerous, but ultimately more a part of the East African wild than Moyo Hill was. While I love Tanzania, I am very excited to be living in a remote setting, because it is what I initially chose this program for.  I’m getting to live with the animals 24-7 for the next 7 weeks, an experience that I will carry with me for the rest of my life.  This trip is already shaping my future, and I’ve begun developing new plans for my lifestyle and career/travel plans.  But, for now, I’m going to enjoy the baboons perched on my porch, grit my teeth in the cold showers, and see Kilimanjaro every day for as long as I can.

Some Photos in Serengeti (Interlude to Part II)

 

The Big Bowl They’ve Named the 8th Natural Wonder

The Ngorongoro Crater, as it’s known, is a naturally formed crater from a collapsed volcano some *cough* years ago.  The land is fertile and lush, filled with greens and blues and blooming flowers… and wildlife.

Ngorongoro Crater from crest

   We departed for Ngorongoro Crater at 7:30am.  We were told that before descending into the crater, we would spend a small time conversing with the management team about the crater’s environment, economical impact, and…

   Well, you’re bored, aren’t you, reading about this.  To tell the truth, so were we.  We were sitting literally on the crest of the crater, in an office (air-conditioned, the first I’ve seen since arriving in TZ), impatiently waiting to venture into the bowl and see the animals.  We were being forced to waylay our safari for a lecture on infrastructure.  After what seemed like a long half-hour we were released to our vehicles once more.  Our driver, and wildlife ecology professor John Kioko, laughed at our uncontained excitement.  Kioko drives like he’s running from the law every time he drives, and riding in his car is a guaranteed thrill, especially careening down a narrow mountain path into the crater.

   The view of the crater was breathtaking from the top, but the view on the ground inside the crater is heart-stopping. 

   It should be noted, here and now, that on every drive through a national park, we are required to record the number of mammal species within 50 meters of our vehicle, and how many of each species’ individuals there are.  Why is this important? Because within the first 2 minutes of reaching the base of the crater we spotted zebra, buffalo, eland, cheetahs, hyenas, wildebeest, and elephants.  My hand-to-God, these creatures were all meandering about the entry into the crater and around a small lake, as if presenting themselves on their best behavior for the tourists. 

Within the day we estimated a count (just our vehicle of 7 students and one teacher) of over 1000 zebra, 1000 buffalo, 2000 wildebeest, and 40 elephant.  These are the big number animals, and were liberally littered about the plains.  What I want to discuss are the rare, not-so-easy to spot animals.

   Take, for instance, the cheetah.  We saw three.  Two were hunting, and one was lounging beneath the shade with some guinea fowl (no, surprisingly the bird wasn’t dead.  I guess the big cat was already full).  We also saw a cerval cat slinking through the tall grasses.  A treat for the day were three black rhinos, extremely hard to find in the park, and we were gifted with two parents and a baby.  Of course, they were visible only by binocular vision, but the awe was still there.

   Hyenas, while I’m told are closer in species to cats, act quite like dogs.  They trot, and lay in the sun, and lounge in small puddles of water.  Often we drove only a few feet from hyenas as they lay in the puddles in the roads, trying to find some respite from the brilliant sun.  The weather on this day was a perfect mix of sun, clouds, and a bit of a breeze to keep cool.

   While I was enthused by the abundance of wildlife I’d only seen on television (and, let’s face it, the Lion King), my eyes were frantically scanning the tall grasses for my own favorite mammal.  We were told initially that we weren’t likely to see these majestic creatures.  There must have been some deity poking around our area that heard my pleas, because on this day I was awarded not one, but 7 of my favorite mammal: Panthera leo, or simply known as the lion.  

   Aslan, simba, lav, leeuw, leone, or leijona, the lion is distinguishable around the world as a large, fierce, and proud animal.  In stories they’ve been named royalty in the wilds of Africa, and in history are often used as symbolism for families of the nobility (so, too, are the color purple, the mace, the flail & crook, and many others, but for now I’m gushing on my favorite large cat).  We saw a group of females, a lone male sleeping soundly in the sunshine, and a family of two cubs, female, and male.  The cubs were curious and often tried to make their way closer to our vehicle.  It was quite a feat for me to resist reaching out my hand to grab one of the little fluff-balls, but I figured that while this was illegal, I was also at the mercy of the parent lions.  So I withheld from my kidnapping endeavors, and instead settled on taking photos. 

   My smiles from the awesome sights of the day still hasn’t left my face.  Lion cubs, and other animals of Africa, can certainly inspire a lot of smiling.

My Mother's Face in the Market

One characteristic of my family members that I’ve always admired is their no-tolerance for BS policy.  It is one thing to humor someone, but quite another to be taken advantage of or lied to.  My father is all about honesty upfront (though his April Fools pranks aren’t to be contended with).  My brother is quiet in sticky situations, but never lets someone play him for a fool.  

   And then there’s Jill P, a.k.a, Mom.  Growing up, I watched my mother turn her take-no-prisoners stubbornness on those unfortunate souls, including myself.  It is a face that many have seen, including some friends-considered-family, and it’s an all-or-nothing set of features; a look that says “you-are-an-idiot-if-you-think-I-will-fall-for-that,” or in other cases, directly stating in her commandeering tone that she won’t be taken advantage of, period. 

   I felt those exact features take up residence on my face today.  My mother, whom I’m told often I resemble extremely closely, was both my shield and my battering ram today as I took on the Mtu Wa Mbu Maasai marketplace. 

   In tourist towns and marketplaces, salesman and shopkeepers are quick to tell you that they’re the ones to give you a “good” price, or the “African” price, as opposed to the tourist price.  I will honestly, and quickly, be the first to tell you that this is almost always a lie.  Salesman are salesman are salesman, and they’re wanting the most money from your pockets.  As a foreigner in Mtu Wa Mbu, or any marketplace of the like, you have to be two things: an aggressive barterer, and a stubborn mule.  If you aren’t comfortable with a price, you walk away. 

   Today was more frustrating than ever before when shopping, and when I become frustrated I find my actions relatable to my mother’s.  My brow is set a little lower, my back is straight, and the tone of my voice drops.  In rare cases of extreme frustration I speak very quietly, with expert enunciation, and I can just feel my mother standing next to me, protecting me from rip-off deals. 

   And with time, and a bit of practice, you find that you hold a great deal of power.  That painting that originally was priced at 85,000 Tz shilling turns out to be sellable for a much lower, much more agreeable 25,000 Tz shilling.  The salesman dogging your heels are not so willing to follow you about and shove necklaces in your face, instead finding that you’re “hapana, sina pesa,” (no, I have no money) means – and I ask that you pardon my French – to “bugger off, I’m not buying.” 

   I am not, by any means, suggesting that you not show respect and be polite.  I encourage politeness, because giving a little brings much into your life.  But never let someone take advantage of you for your separate nationality, and never let someone allow you to feel uncomfortable if you do not wish to purchase their goods.  In the end, your happiness with a price is the key, and if they are unhappy with your price, then maybe they should find a different occupation.

   Metaphorically, you could take this bargaining analogy to a whole new level.

   It was nice “having” my mother with me today.  I never feel far from home, because the characteristics of my loved ones emerge when I need them most.  Today I needed my mother’s back-bone. 

   Who knows, tomorrow I may need my brother’s ability to occupy himself in the most mundane ways, as I’ll be camped out in a classroom for several hours.

I leave you with some more photos of my travels to Tanganire.  Kwa heri.

SMACK!

On the tsetse fly’s head!

    Oh, and Happy Valentine’s day for all of the couples together, and for those who take the time to love themselves this year.  I found my Valentine here in Tanzania today, on our journey through Tarangire National Park.  He’s tall, quite handsome, and very in love with my gorgeous brown hair.

   His name? I’m not sure I could pronounce it.  I would need some practice to get the language down.  Oh, and you’d have to be an elephant to understand.

   Yes, my Valentine for this year was a distinguished male elephant.  What I said about my hair was true, he was quite enamored, while I was somewhat terrified.

   You’d like the story?  Well, allow me to begin with a short story from the day previous:

   On February 13^th of 2012, this year, I took my day and dedicated it to two activities.  First, I went to study a Maasai boma, and met some very wonderful mamas, and their children.  They sang their welcomes, all adorned in their best head dress and handcrafted jewelry.  The children wanted to sing and play with us, which we were glad to oblige them.  They were well versed in the “Simama, Kaa” song, which translated means “Stand, Sit.” 

"Simama, kaa! Simama, kaa! Ruka, ruka, ruka!"

   The second dedication was to an orphanage in Mtu Wa Mbu, where there are 40 children of parents lost to AIDS.  Their ages ranged from 3-12, but their songs and smiles were timeless.  Several hours I spent with my friends painting pictures on the walls of the orphanage bedrooms, and the rest were dedicated to the children.  Asha, a lovely girl of 4, had a beautiful smile and a pretty pink dress.  Her younger sister of 3 years loved to be held, and thought that riding the “chaka-chaka” train was some fun! To be completely honest, every child wanted to be held, and twirled, and danced with, and “chaka-chaka-ed” up and down the yard.  “Tena” (meaning “again”) was the theme of the day, as each wanted to be played with again and again and again! 

   A friend of mine brought a polaroid picture so that each child could have a picture of themselves to carry.  They were quite enamored with their photos, and took the time to show everyone their captured smiles and sparkling eyes!  They sang us songs, both foreign and similar to our own, and were quite happy to have some guests to cart about the yard. 

   If I deign to continue about these delightful children, I’ll only revisit my initial heartbreak from their adamant “simamas”, asking that we stay a little bit longer.  We’ll return again, and I’m hoping to get to play once more.

   As for today, the entirety of the daylight hours were devoted to Tarangire National Park.  We left the camp at 6am and headed east, excited about our hours watching the animals.  There were ostrich, warthog, zebra, waterbuck, mongoose, several birds, impala, giraffe, and hundreds of elephants.

Our Esteemed Admirer

   Among one group of these elephants was my admirer.  He was tall, and commandeering, and you should be surprised to know that I had no idea he was going to like my hair.  I was adjusting the lense on my camera when I felt a whiff, and then a brush of a trunk on my hair.  The elephant, it seemed, wished to get a good go at my hair. 

   I want to remind you, these are wild animals.  I write these words with a humorous tone, but while excitement is aroused when an elephant takes notice in your vehicle, there is also a bit of fear.  This savannah elephant was huge, and his eyes were set on our land cruiser.  Luckily, he wanted nothing more than a cursory sniff and poke.  The hair was safe, and no harm done, but I do wish he’d had an interest in blondes.

   The sunrise was pretty, the daytime fun, and the sunset unforgettable (especially thanks to my camera). 

Okay, Dad, want me to bring this home?

   A few lasting notes for my friends and family:

   Dad: I found a truck you’d go crazy for.  And, yes, I took a photo.

   Miranda: I find I’m quite like a certain novel character, in that I’m always munching on apples when I can get my hands on them. 

   Danielle: I saw several tiny, little baby elephants today.  I thought of you every time, and they were adorable!

   Red: The monkeys here have no interest in our drinks, only our shoes.

   Grandma and Grandpa: Congratulations on your 56th wedding anniversary! Definitely something to look up too, and I hope you got your tasty dinner, Grandma, and not the Taco Bell (though I'd kill to have some Taco Bell right now!)

A baby elephant, barely over a year old.

Tomorrow is a non-program day, in which I’ll be spending my time in the Mtu Wa Mbu Maasai market.  Shuka fabric, yes indeed!  I’ve already been to the tailor, and I’ll soon have a new skirt to show you all.

Show and Tell... and Baboons Barking?

We named this lazy baboon Kermit

Yesterday (Sunday February 5th, for those finding it difficult to follow the time difference) was dedicated to research and field observations of baboons.  Olive baboons claim a fancy scientific name, Papio cynocephalus anubis, but are far from fancy creatures.  In Kiswahili, the term for baboon is nyani.  The olive baboons are somewhat volatile in activities and emotions, ranging anywhere from playful, to lounging and relaxed (as noted by Kermit, to the left), to screeching in anger.  A noted sound of the baboon is called a bark, because of it's facial similarities to a dog.  I have to argue that most dogs I know of are much cuter than these grown, amorous monkeys... well, alright, I am purposefully speaking of my own dog - Sami - who is a yellow labrador.  I miss her constantly, and this seemed the perfect time to mention her!

   Three hours were dedicated to driving and noting the behavior traits of the rapscallions.  For all of my research, I have come to three conclusions: 

1. Olive baboons are extremely similar to people in social activities.  On this lazy Sunday morning I would have loved nothing better than to lie in a shady place and enjoy the sounds of birds.  These baboons were just what I imagine many parents doing with their children in the park, as the adults would relax or sleep, and the young would climb, jump, and play constantly with each other, taking a break only to return to their parents and incessantly bother them for snacks.
2. Baboons like to be watched. They're show animals.  They know what the tourists are here for, and they aren't going to put off their activities just because a few hundred cameras are pointed directly at them.  Eating? No problem.  Butt scratching? No nerves for these baboons.  Climbing from tree to tree, pointedly ignoring Mama Baboon's screeching? Always.
3. Baboons are the gray squirrels/rats of Tanzania.  They're everywhere! Just like back home in the states - especially in NC - these baboons are seen so often that one no longer takes keen interest in them.  After a time it was common to hear voices citing sighs of boredom over baboons floating about the interior of the vehicles, because baboons are simply installed in all crevices of the Lake Manyara habitat.  

Can you spot the baby hippo sleeping beside its Mother?

Worry not, for the rest of the day was spent observing other species in the area.
   Alright, in complete honesty, we were "observing" by means of camera, with our eyes combining forces with the great visibility of our camera lenses, as if our pupils had all become the wide, black photo-lenses shining beneath the bright light of the jua na Afrika, or "African sun".
   The hippos were all lounging out beside the pools, which was somewhat unusual for the time of day, so we were lucky to obtain some amazing photos.  There were two baby hippos, eager to swim, lounge, swim, sleep, swim, swim, swim! 
   As we headed towards the gate, leaving behind us the savannas filled with zebra and wildebeest, we were confronted by a herd of elephants.  The great grey animals sauntered purposefully past our vehicles.  Their steps were accompanied by various trumpets from their trunks, directing their young away from the vehicles that they were so curiously and eagerly wishing to examine.  Curiosity is curiosity in any eyes, and it's quite easy to spot the trait in any young person/animal.  These young elephants were quite ready to observe our large green cars.
   That evening I slept heavily, and peacefully, with animals of Lake Manyara dancing about my dreams.

They walked right in front of our vehicle.

   The morning brought with it another beautiful day, and the neighborhood rooster was fervent in his endeavors to waken us with his crowing.  We left camp at sunup, and hiked to an cliff that provided an overlook of the mountains/farming land of Arusha.  It was here, amidst the great winds flying up from the valley, juniper trees and morning doves that we had our morning lecture.  It is amazing that I can rightfully say that I've had class on the ledge of a mountain in the highlands of Tanzania.  Needless to say, our greedy eyes were wandering, scouring for imagery as aggressively as an eagle scans for prey when it is hungry.
Tomorrow, or Tuesday, is our first day off.  We are going to see an Iraqw boma, and then off to Karatu to visit the market, and finish our day at Happy Days, where we will get to enjoy some missed American cuisine.  I'll be sure to share my experiences tomorrow, marafiki zangu and family, but for now, kwa heri!