Headed to Lake Nakuru

The days here are short, and getting shorter.  I'm off to Lake Nakuru, here in Kenya, on another 5-day expedition.  This means that my posting shall be on hiatus for the next little bit, but I'll be happy to begin my posting again soon!  My adventures are growing, and while I'm still getting settled into life here in Kenya, funny things are happening all the time.

What I want to share with you now, however, is this: Every morning I wake up, walk outside, and am presented to the snowy peak of Kilimanjaro in the pale-pink morning light.

With a view like this... well, to be quite honest, just being in Kenya, and living this life, is enough to get me up and out of bed early without fuss.  Mornings here start before sunrise, and I'm never upset for it.  I enjoy every breath I take in East Africa, because I know they're in limited supply.  According to a loving resource, I have about 47 days left in my journey to the African wild.  That's 47 days left to explore this wonderful place, study the environment and its policies, only to walk away from it in May.  I've barely begun my time in Kenya, and I have over a month left here, and already I'm yearning to return.

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.

Encore in Moyo Hill

I have made my home in Kilimanjaro Bush Camp, Kimana, Kenya.  I ask, however, that you wait patiently for my first impressions until tomorrow, for I aim today to dedicate this final post to my previous home in Moyo Hill, Rhotia, Tanzania.

*note: I am aware I promised a part II of Serengeti, and you'll get it! But allow me my time of nostalgia.

Our final moments in Tanzania were full of laughter and bittersweet remembrance.  We cooked a final "appreciation" chakula cha jioni (dinner) for the staff, but no delicious Italian dishes, handmade cards, or words are enough for my family in Moyo Hill.  We were given the chance to sing with my dear friend and "dubbed font-of-knowledge" Kioko, and dance with the center director Vedasto.  I sat for one final evening with Yohana in his duka (shop) and swapped stories.  They were all so kind, and knew well that we were torn between leaving their loving presence and journeying to adventures in Kenya.  But they were understanding, gave us as many hugs as they could offer, and promptly reminded us that they would be missing us as well.

On the other hand, move-out activities were collectively rushed.  Packing was hectic, followed by cleaning our bandas.  My roommates and I bumped up the music and sang together while we packed.  We would no longer be roommates once in Kenya, and it was our final moments to goof-off together.  We had snacks, walked to Rhotia, and shared a drink at our pub in Karatu.  It was a merry time.

I'll miss the lush green forests of the Tanzanian highlands.  I'll miss our birds, our breezes, the rains, and the farmlands.  I'll think fondly of our neighbors, and the friends we made in Rhotia, Karatu, and Mtu Wa Mbu.  But we're now in Kenya, and a new adventure begins, as well as my journey to East Africa is finding its end.  However, I plan to make the most of every moment, just as in Tanzania, to live, love, and share with you all.

Some Photos in Serengeti (Interlude to Part II)

 

Stuck Fast in the Bathroom: Expedition in Serengeti Part I

I will begin this return to the Serengeti by noting that it will take place in two parts.  I’m actually quite intimidated by the task of placing a 5 day research excursion into just two short posts, because the trip turned out to be bigger, more extensive, and just more than I ever could have imagined.  But I will try, and I’ll take the time to equip my tales with photos, just small windows into a life-changing experience. 

   Our journey into the heart of Serengeti took several hours, and along the way I learned a bit about this place that has been named a Natural Wonder of the World.  Named in part for its wilderness, as well as being a large part of the Great Migration of thousands of wildebeest.  Our entry into the park was through the heart of this migration, and there were thousands of wildebeest, as far as the eye could see, for several kilometers.  Old, young, and newborn wildebeest practically littered the savannahs, accompanied by a few Grant’s or Thomson’s gazelles dispersed through the great beasts’ vast numbers. 

Oldupai Gorge: "Cradle of Mankind"

   Serengeti National Park is very unique, and I never found myself bored with it.  Other than the animals (of which there were many fantastic sightings) the landscape is vast and untouched by human hands.  Weather is unpredictable, and often we found ourselves driving across the grasslands with the sunshine marking our skin, only to savor the pelting drive of a flash of rain that had been making its way across the plains.  There was always time to appreciate the blue skies and white fluffy clouds, which only served to enhance the grand visage that the Serengeti proudly displays. 

   In the mornings we always were to be awake and in our vehicles by 6:15am.  For myself, this meant rolling out of my sleeping bag, hauling on my hiking boots, and staggering bleary-eyed into the open-topped Land Cruiser.  The nights were cool, and the mornings even cooler as the sun prepared to make its entrance.  Bundled in my Maasai shuka, we took off into the morning to either make note of elephant/giraffe behaviors, or complete a bird watching exercise.  But before any of this would occur, we were given the gift of watching the sunrise.  Seeing the blues and grays of early morning Serengeti being chased away by the red-gold brilliance of the African sun is unlike anything I have ever witnessed, and I envy the animals that get to bask in its splendor every day.  The birds are lively in the morning, and their chirping accompanied the sun’s ascension into the sky.  I meant what I said previously about the songs of the Serengeti, and the singing of sparrows, violet-breasted rollers, butcher-birds, love-birds, and several others of our flying friends lit up the morning sky. 

   On our first day in we saw zebra, gazelle, wildebeest, warthogs, and lions.  If you know anything about me, it is my affiliation and adoration for Panthera leo.  On this trip to Serengeti I saw several, and snapped hundreds of photos, and spent hours watching them through my binoculars.  Before we can come to this, however, we had to set up camp. 

Newborn twin elephants with mother (tembo)

   Our camp is comprised of cliché safari tents, and I loved it.  Packed in with 4 other girls, our tent was an explosion of camping gear, shoes, and dirt.  We ate three meals each day, often lunch was while driving in the vehicles, and at night we washed the dishes and collected around the campfire to reflect.  At night the stars were so bright, and we could always see the misty-lights of the milky way, or shooting stars with their burning red tails clearly visible.  There was one rule for after-dark activities: if you needed to use the restroom, you had to signal from your tent with your flashlight and be escorted by the hired Tanapa guard.  

She walked right next to our vehicle!

   Why the extra protection? Often our campsite often had visitors, such as curious and hungry hyenas.  One night, one of my roommates and myself needed to visit the restroom.  After signaling the guard we were escorted several meters away from our tent to the necessaries.  In the course of using the restroom, I heard a loud rumble from outside.  The next thing I knew the door flew open, and my roommate was hastily shoved inside with me, and the voice of the Tanapa guard harshly whispered that we were to stay inside.  Righting myself and my clothing, I was informed by an excited and slightly fearful tent-mate that a few lions had stationed themselves outside the bathrooms, and were quite curious as to our arrival into their territory.  The grunting I had heard, it seemed, was the alerting sounds of a male lion.  Needless to say I was thrilled beyond belief, and quite electrified by the adrenaline pumping through my veins.  A lion was right outside, and this fierce animal wanted to know why we were so close to their domain.  So we were trapped in the bathroom for a time until it was safe to shuffle us back into our tents, and the lions were away from our campsite. 

Sunset in Serengeti

   Several times I was awoken at night to the sounds of hyenas laughing, whooping, or lions roaring in the distance.  Our professors deigned to tell us the morning after the lion incident that we were the first group to have a lion so close to the site.  The animals must’ve been just as excited to see us as we were to see them!

   In any case, my trip was 5 days long and way too short.  Camping in the Serengeti is an inimitable experience that I’m proud to have tucked under my cap, and it was well worth sleeping on tiny rocks and no showers.  I highly recommend it for any and every person. 

Giraffe (Twiga)

   In the next post, I’m excited to talk more about the thrills and chills of seeing so many animals up close and in their natural habitats.  Until next time, kwa heri!

Into The Wild

Tomorrow morning I will be awakened from my sleep by a tiny beeping alarm sounding-off inside my wrist watch.  The time will be 6 am, the weather clear, and the temperature crisp and cool.  Wrapped in my shuka I’ll inevitably shuffle myself into my shoes, grab my duffle bag, and sling my back-pack across my back. 

   Tomorrow morning I’ll find myself heading towards what I have considered to be the upsurge of my research here in Tanzania.  Like a carefully orchestrated concerto, I am finding myself caught up in the whirlwind of a great crescendo that has been masterfully building over these past 6 weeks.  Instruments are ringing out from the arena, with the various hums and vibrations – sounds – colliding together harmoniously, blending to create a masterpiece that flows humbly down into the theatre where I feel I am the only audience attendee.  It sometimes feels as if I’m drowning in the noise that is Tanzania.

   Tomorrow morning I will find myself heading off for a brief 5 day excursion into the Serengeti National Park.  Camping and conducting research, it will undoubtedly be the shining feature of my stay in Tanzania this year.  My mornings will begin with a sunrise that sounds like a slow, soft drumming cadence.  Donning my hiking boots will rouse a light trill of flutes, inexorably followed shortly after by the warble of the rest of the wood-wind instruments.  As the day continues, and I set my feet to the mud, my strides will be accompanied by the inclusion of violins, cellos, and other sounding laments pouring from various stringed instruments.  Horns will sound across the plains, preceding our rovers, and following along in our dusty trail.  Soon daylight will begin to dwindle, as will the declarative roar of my spiritual ensemble.  The stars will show their faces against the dark blanket of the night sky, their twinkling a soft strain of chimes to lull me to sleep… and then, as the sun rises again the next morning, so too will the day, stirring to wake the music of Serengeti once more.

Only Two Things Standing Between Me and the Serengeti

Exams.  A most ill-fated word.  Whether they be medical or, in my case, scholarly, the term "exam" almost always insights some unpleasant feelings.  One never recalls a good exam, like finding out that you're all-nighter won you an A on the final.  No, we're more inclined to reestablish a memorial relationship with a past exam failure, or particularly difficult test.  Or, if you are more like me, you tend to forget any and all exams as soon as you are returned your grade.
   My first exam was this morning at 8:15am (my time).  Wildlife Ecology turned out to be pleasantly simple enough to answer.  Or, there's the awful possibility that having an answer for every question just means that I have an active imagination.  Surely I didn't create all of the information and minute details about the reproductive process of female olive baboons in Lake Manyara... I mean, where on earth would I come up with ischial callesites?
   In any case, I have only Wildlife Management and Environmental Policy left to defeat.  I shall strike pen to paper, and conquer these classes that have little or no relevance to my field of study!  And I shall be rewarded by a Friday visiting a self-sustainable coffee farm, Karatu, and jovial story telling at Happy Days... and, of course, we set out for Serengeti on Sunday.
   Have I mentioned we'll be visiting the Olduvai Gorge Archeological site?  For any anthropology/history/fun-fact enthusiasts, you'll understand how exciting it is to be visiting "The Cradle of Mankind."
   I'm missing my loved ones (friends and family) tonight.  I hope you all are doing well, and I miss you terribly!
*note: Dear Family, please inform my lovely puppy, Sami, (who sadly cannot read my posts) that I will be home to spoil her soon!