Ann's Adventures in Africa
Nov 20th, 2006, 12:14 PM
#61
Original Poster
Join Date: Jul 2006
Posts: 437
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Nyamera, we actually saw the gerenuks just outside the gate, when entering Amboseli. One we are sure of, and the second one we were pretty sure but not positive (we didn't stop, so we couldn't get a good look. But there was a looong neck sticking out of a bush!).
Nov 20th, 2006, 05:21 PM
#62
Original Poster
Join Date: Jul 2006
Posts: 437
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Wayne, I just looked at some of your pictures. They are gorgeous. I love the leopard staring at you from the tree, as well as that dignified lion. By the way, imagestation has a great sale on huge prints. 16x20" for 7.49, and 20x30" for 9.99. I just got myself a BIG lion picture, and plan to scare all my friends. 
Nov 23rd, 2006, 05:46 AM
#64
Original Poster
Join Date: Jul 2006
Posts: 437
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
MBUZI MAWE – NORTHERN SERENGETI
Photos in ‘Serengeti – north’ folder at: http://www.winkflash.com/photo/publi...?u=ajennerjahn
Day 17 – Oct 26
Today the plan is to drive north as far as we can, to try to catch the edge of the migration. Normally we would go on a morning and afternoon game drive, but the plan changes so we stay out for the day, to cover more territory, and drive north towards the border.
It is heartbreaking seeing the dry river bed. I know there has been a drought, and that this is the dry season, but somehow the dry river bed brings it home.
A vulture catches Roman’s attention, and we take anther look. And hidden in the grass in the shadowed depths of the dry river lurk the lions, waiting for an unwary visitor to come naively looking for a drink. We can’t decide if we want to see this happen or not, but the situation doesn’t come up, so it’s not up to us anyway. So the vulture is waiting for the lion, and the lion is waiting for the wildebeest, and meanwhile we see the monkeys running away. At the beginning of my trip, I was surprised by how little the various animals seemed to interact with each other, but now I’m learning different things to look for, and there is more interplay than I noticed at first.
We see zebras, wildebeest, Thompson’s gazelles, hartebeest, topi, grants gazelles. Then some male and female lions under a tree, with another male on a rock, all dozing and raising their heads occasionally to look around, and then falling back asleep, with sinking heads and drooping eyelids.
Our boxed lunch today is an improvement from the previous ones. Thank you mbuzi mawe!
After lunch the van ahead stops by a candelabra tree. We can’t figure out why they stopped – we’ve seen those trees before. But we have not seen a lion in a candelabra tree before. [pictures] I still can’t believe that the guide saw this –Even when I take a picture with the camera zoomed all the way (12x), there is a tiny patch of brown, but that’s it. How in the world he saw this while driving on those rough roads is a mystery.
Finally we reach the edge of the migration, crossing the Grumeti river. We are at a distance, but can see the wildebeest climbing up the bank, and can hear their grunts. In addition, we also see dik dik, bushbucks, cape buffalo, giraffe, elands, warthogs, elephants, steinbuck, klipspringer, ostrich, hartebeest, and guinea fowl.
As we approach the northern border between Kenya and Tanzania, the size and density of the herds increases – massive, endless herds of wildebeest, interrupted by zebras and buffalo herds. We continue until we get to the gate 10k from the border.
As we turn back from the border we are surrounded by wildebeest. There are processions on either side of the road, and another parade up the hill, interspersed with zebra again. In any direction you look, you can see more and more. They seem endless. Earlier in the day they were clustered under the trees or just milling about. Now they are moving purposefully along, near the Golongonja River.
The road here is not nearly as bumpy as the one in the Ngorogoro crater area, but we are traveling faster because of the distance, so the dust is impressive. One of our ladies politely confides that the advantage of having a mastectomy is that you only bounce on one side, and she wishes her sister were here, because as a double mastectomy survivor she wouldn’t bounce at all, so she could sit in the back seat all the time! She definitely wins the ‘when life gives you lemons make lemonade’ award.
When we get back to camp, most people gravitate to showers, naps, drinks (or all three). A few of us eagerly try another walk. This time we end up with a woman whose private guide courteously includes us. I’m not used to having such an entourage, since we also have the camp staff and the guard. The guide (working for Roy’s) is a Maasai, who shares his personal experiences in a vivid and appealing way. We stop by a sodom’s apple bush, and he relates a story from his childhood. The children had to walk 10k to school, and one day one of the girls was complaining of a stomach ache. It got worse and worse until she couldn’t walk. They tried to carry her, but they were too little and it was too far.
“She was crying, and we were crying too, because we didn’t know what to do. Then we encountered a group of warriors. They asked us what was wrong, and suddenly they disappeared. But they weren’t going away, they were looking for this plant--sodom’s apple. They pulled it up and took the outer layer from the root and forced her to eat it. In a little while, maybe 20 minutes, she was better. This I know, because I saw it.”
We are all a little wistful over dinner – it is our last dinner together in Africa. I’m not ready for my trip to be over. In fact, most of us admit that we would enjoy staying on if our schedules (and money) permitted. A couple of people are clearly ready to go home, however. They are the ones who weren’t that interested in the trip themselves, but were accompanying someone else. I keep thinking: our last dinner; Our last night in a tent; Our last lion.
Overall impressions of mbuzi mawe: this is a wonderful camp. The staff is excellent, the accommodations are terrific, and the food was very good. And of course the night sounds are amazing.
There were no more animals on my trip, but I’ll follow up with one more episode describing what a contrast it is to be in Arusha, and some final thoughts.
Photos in ‘Serengeti – north’ folder at: http://www.winkflash.com/photo/publi...?u=ajennerjahn
Day 17 – Oct 26
Today the plan is to drive north as far as we can, to try to catch the edge of the migration. Normally we would go on a morning and afternoon game drive, but the plan changes so we stay out for the day, to cover more territory, and drive north towards the border.
It is heartbreaking seeing the dry river bed. I know there has been a drought, and that this is the dry season, but somehow the dry river bed brings it home.
A vulture catches Roman’s attention, and we take anther look. And hidden in the grass in the shadowed depths of the dry river lurk the lions, waiting for an unwary visitor to come naively looking for a drink. We can’t decide if we want to see this happen or not, but the situation doesn’t come up, so it’s not up to us anyway. So the vulture is waiting for the lion, and the lion is waiting for the wildebeest, and meanwhile we see the monkeys running away. At the beginning of my trip, I was surprised by how little the various animals seemed to interact with each other, but now I’m learning different things to look for, and there is more interplay than I noticed at first.
We see zebras, wildebeest, Thompson’s gazelles, hartebeest, topi, grants gazelles. Then some male and female lions under a tree, with another male on a rock, all dozing and raising their heads occasionally to look around, and then falling back asleep, with sinking heads and drooping eyelids.
Our boxed lunch today is an improvement from the previous ones. Thank you mbuzi mawe!
After lunch the van ahead stops by a candelabra tree. We can’t figure out why they stopped – we’ve seen those trees before. But we have not seen a lion in a candelabra tree before. [pictures] I still can’t believe that the guide saw this –Even when I take a picture with the camera zoomed all the way (12x), there is a tiny patch of brown, but that’s it. How in the world he saw this while driving on those rough roads is a mystery.
Finally we reach the edge of the migration, crossing the Grumeti river. We are at a distance, but can see the wildebeest climbing up the bank, and can hear their grunts. In addition, we also see dik dik, bushbucks, cape buffalo, giraffe, elands, warthogs, elephants, steinbuck, klipspringer, ostrich, hartebeest, and guinea fowl.
As we approach the northern border between Kenya and Tanzania, the size and density of the herds increases – massive, endless herds of wildebeest, interrupted by zebras and buffalo herds. We continue until we get to the gate 10k from the border.
As we turn back from the border we are surrounded by wildebeest. There are processions on either side of the road, and another parade up the hill, interspersed with zebra again. In any direction you look, you can see more and more. They seem endless. Earlier in the day they were clustered under the trees or just milling about. Now they are moving purposefully along, near the Golongonja River.
The road here is not nearly as bumpy as the one in the Ngorogoro crater area, but we are traveling faster because of the distance, so the dust is impressive. One of our ladies politely confides that the advantage of having a mastectomy is that you only bounce on one side, and she wishes her sister were here, because as a double mastectomy survivor she wouldn’t bounce at all, so she could sit in the back seat all the time! She definitely wins the ‘when life gives you lemons make lemonade’ award.
When we get back to camp, most people gravitate to showers, naps, drinks (or all three). A few of us eagerly try another walk. This time we end up with a woman whose private guide courteously includes us. I’m not used to having such an entourage, since we also have the camp staff and the guard. The guide (working for Roy’s) is a Maasai, who shares his personal experiences in a vivid and appealing way. We stop by a sodom’s apple bush, and he relates a story from his childhood. The children had to walk 10k to school, and one day one of the girls was complaining of a stomach ache. It got worse and worse until she couldn’t walk. They tried to carry her, but they were too little and it was too far.
“She was crying, and we were crying too, because we didn’t know what to do. Then we encountered a group of warriors. They asked us what was wrong, and suddenly they disappeared. But they weren’t going away, they were looking for this plant--sodom’s apple. They pulled it up and took the outer layer from the root and forced her to eat it. In a little while, maybe 20 minutes, she was better. This I know, because I saw it.”
We are all a little wistful over dinner – it is our last dinner together in Africa. I’m not ready for my trip to be over. In fact, most of us admit that we would enjoy staying on if our schedules (and money) permitted. A couple of people are clearly ready to go home, however. They are the ones who weren’t that interested in the trip themselves, but were accompanying someone else. I keep thinking: our last dinner; Our last night in a tent; Our last lion.
Overall impressions of mbuzi mawe: this is a wonderful camp. The staff is excellent, the accommodations are terrific, and the food was very good. And of course the night sounds are amazing.
There were no more animals on my trip, but I’ll follow up with one more episode describing what a contrast it is to be in Arusha, and some final thoughts.
Nov 24th, 2006, 07:42 AM
#67
Original Poster
Join Date: Jul 2006
Posts: 437
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Sandi: yes! how did you know! I didn't totally catch the guide's name, but it sounded like what you wrote, and the woman's was definitely Elizabeth. She was willed with praise for Claiman, and we totally enjoyed our walk with him. Did you happen to help her plan her trip? She was ecstatic with the whole thing - absolutely glowing.
Lynn: yes, I do have to admit that I may be one of those people who think I am going on my 'one and only' trip to Africa, who ends up returning. For time and money reasons, it won't be for quite a while, but I keep having thoughts pop up that begin "next time...". I'm even thinking about maybe possibly considering the concept of a trip that requires flying on a small plane. Since I'm afraid of flying even on a nice big jumbo jet, and I drag myself onto the plane mumbling the fine jet safety statistics under my breath, the very idea of a small plane has been inconceivable so far. But I did survive the 14 seater back to Arusha, as you will hear in my final post, so who knows what the future might bring.
And yes, I can definitely imagine travelling with my roommate again. I don't remember whether I reported back to you guys that her tse tse fly bites did finally heal when she got home.
Lynn: yes, I do have to admit that I may be one of those people who think I am going on my 'one and only' trip to Africa, who ends up returning. For time and money reasons, it won't be for quite a while, but I keep having thoughts pop up that begin "next time...". I'm even thinking about maybe possibly considering the concept of a trip that requires flying on a small plane. Since I'm afraid of flying even on a nice big jumbo jet, and I drag myself onto the plane mumbling the fine jet safety statistics under my breath, the very idea of a small plane has been inconceivable so far. But I did survive the 14 seater back to Arusha, as you will hear in my final post, so who knows what the future might bring.
And yes, I can definitely imagine travelling with my roommate again. I don't remember whether I reported back to you guys that her tse tse fly bites did finally heal when she got home.
Nov 24th, 2006, 10:29 AM
#69
Original Poster
Join Date: Jul 2006
Posts: 437
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Hi Wayne, yes Mbuzi Mawe is a wonderful camp, and I'm glad you liked the sunset pictures -- I think I left off the whole story about our amazing sunset walk our first night in mbuzi mawe (the night before the 'sodoms apple' walk).
Nov 24th, 2006, 01:54 PM
#70
Guest
Posts: n/a
ann -
Yes, I helped plan Elizabeth's trip. As soon as you mentioned a solo woman traveling with Roy's, just figured - same person, great guide. I Believe "purple" who posted back about a month ago, also had raves about Claiman.
... and bye the way, I'm enjoying your trip report very much. I find it so refreshing to read first-timers experiences in Africa. Haven't gotten to the photos yet, but will.
Yes, I helped plan Elizabeth's trip. As soon as you mentioned a solo woman traveling with Roy's, just figured - same person, great guide. I Believe "purple" who posted back about a month ago, also had raves about Claiman.
... and bye the way, I'm enjoying your trip report very much. I find it so refreshing to read first-timers experiences in Africa. Haven't gotten to the photos yet, but will.
Nov 24th, 2006, 02:15 PM
#71
Original Poster
Join Date: Jul 2006
Posts: 437
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Oops -- I seem to have omitted the second-to-last day in my trip report. So here is our introduction to Mbuzi Mawe.
MBUZI MAWE - SERENGETI
Photos in ‘Serengeti – north’ folder at: http://www.winkflash.com/photo/publi...?u=ajennerjahn
Day 16 – Oct 25
We go on a short game drive on the way to pick up the ballooners. Wildebeest, impala, warthogs, thompson’s gazelles, vervet monkey, maribou stork, olive baboons, and lions. A male and female wait under a tree while a second female investigates the vehicles. I can’t help but laugh as I realize that she’s too close to get a good picture. I lean way out of the hatch to try to get a better angle, and don’t realize until later that maybe it wasn’t too smart.
We pick up the ballooners at the wilderness lodge. They are bubbling over with enthusiasm over their experience. I’m glad they had a great time, but I don’t regret not going – it would be too scary for me. At the lodge, the rocks are dramatic, and there is a comical sight because a rock hyrax has positioned himself at the base of a huge rock, and it looks as if he is holding the whole thing up [pictures]. We also stop at the little museum that has the wildebeest walk – a self-guided tour that explains the migration. There is also an opportunity to stay and watch a movie about the Serengeti, but as one of the guys says “I can watch movies after dark – now I want to see animals!
And then on to another game drive on the way to our next camp. We go back to the Seronera river. The zebras are there again, still running in and out. Now we see hippos at the same time, but they don’t seem to bother the zebras. But a huge herd of buffalo approaches and the zebras run out and wait on the far bank. As we drive through the herd, we revise our estimate upward, from 500 to 1000. We see lots of topi, as well as elephants.
We end up at the wonderful mbuzi mawe tented camp. Dennis asks if we can take a walk and I’m excited to join – I didn’t even know it was an option. The camp arranges it for us. We set out with Ivan and an armed guard. Ivan is actually a physician’s assistant, but does a fine job for us describing the trees and wildlife signs that we pass.
He is deceptively casual when he points out the lion up on the rock. We’ve seen lions much closer, but now we are on foot, with nothing in between us, and it feels totally different. The lion is just a flash of tawny brown against the rock. “Are we ok here?” we ask. Both guard and guide are alert but unconcerned. But then the stakes mount – there are three little cubs! You can barely see them without binoculars. I’m torn between wishing we were much closer, and thinking we should be much farther away. The lion disappears, and I have visions of her circling around us. Ivan tries to be comforting. The last security guard who died was killed by a buffalo, not a lion. I’m not quite as reassured as I’m supposed to be. In actuality, we’re really very far away, but I just don’t have the experience to know what a safe distance is.
In the middle of all this, we are experiencing a glorious sunset. I keep pivoting around to watch the sunset, and then back to see if I can still see the cubs. What an amazing walk!!!
The tents are wonderful. Other than the fact that they have canvas walls, it seems quite a misnomer to call them a tent. Imagine two four poster beds (to hold the mosquito netting), 2 nightstands and lamps by each bed, a ceiling fan, desk, coffee table and 2 chairs. Let’s not forget the bathroom, accessible via a canvas zippered opening in the back: flush toilet, 2 sinks, and a solar heated shower, that was not just warm but truly hot.
The food is very good, and is also nicely served. Luckily they got the baboon out of the dining room before we came to eat.
My bed was comfortable, with a really warm blanket and lots of pillows. But I was roused several times by my roommate loudly snoring. She didn’t do this before. I wonder if she’s sick. It sounds quite odd and uncomfortable. At 6:15 I get my wake-up call – a friendly good morning, with a delivery of hot chocolate. I sti in my 4 poster bed, drinking hot chocolate, and think that I could get used to this.
Day 17 – Oct 26
Over breakfast everyone excitedly comments on the lions that roared all night. I suddenly realize that my poor roommate was innocent of those noises! Good thing I didn’t accuse her! And how amazing that a simple shift in perspective changes the situation from annoying to appealing and exciting. I’m pretty sure there is a philosophical principle to learn here, but I’m eager to get going on our game drive, so I defer philosophy until later.
Today is our last game drive. I don’t feel as if I’m ‘done’ at all. I still have animals to see. I still have skies to appreciate. I’m even ready to breathe more dust and swat more flies, and eat more boxed lunches. Oh, and on the topic of flies, it’s been rather odd. I’ve had a few bites, but I’m basically not getting stung. What’s especially strange is that for my whole life I’m ALWAYS the one who gets stung. Whether it is mosquitoes, or black flies, or no—see-ums, or yellow-jackets, or wasps, they all make a bee-line (no pun intended) to me and bite, even when no one nearby is bothered. And this time it’s reversed. While it is true that I’m taking precautions, I’m still not sure why the bugs suddenly don’t like me. For 30 years I’ve refused to join my family in the Adirondacks because of the bugs and the long car drive, and yet here I am in Africa. This doesn’t make ANY sense to my friends or family, and I can’t really blame them.
MBUZI MAWE - SERENGETI
Photos in ‘Serengeti – north’ folder at: http://www.winkflash.com/photo/publi...?u=ajennerjahn
Day 16 – Oct 25
We go on a short game drive on the way to pick up the ballooners. Wildebeest, impala, warthogs, thompson’s gazelles, vervet monkey, maribou stork, olive baboons, and lions. A male and female wait under a tree while a second female investigates the vehicles. I can’t help but laugh as I realize that she’s too close to get a good picture. I lean way out of the hatch to try to get a better angle, and don’t realize until later that maybe it wasn’t too smart.
We pick up the ballooners at the wilderness lodge. They are bubbling over with enthusiasm over their experience. I’m glad they had a great time, but I don’t regret not going – it would be too scary for me. At the lodge, the rocks are dramatic, and there is a comical sight because a rock hyrax has positioned himself at the base of a huge rock, and it looks as if he is holding the whole thing up [pictures]. We also stop at the little museum that has the wildebeest walk – a self-guided tour that explains the migration. There is also an opportunity to stay and watch a movie about the Serengeti, but as one of the guys says “I can watch movies after dark – now I want to see animals!
And then on to another game drive on the way to our next camp. We go back to the Seronera river. The zebras are there again, still running in and out. Now we see hippos at the same time, but they don’t seem to bother the zebras. But a huge herd of buffalo approaches and the zebras run out and wait on the far bank. As we drive through the herd, we revise our estimate upward, from 500 to 1000. We see lots of topi, as well as elephants.
We end up at the wonderful mbuzi mawe tented camp. Dennis asks if we can take a walk and I’m excited to join – I didn’t even know it was an option. The camp arranges it for us. We set out with Ivan and an armed guard. Ivan is actually a physician’s assistant, but does a fine job for us describing the trees and wildlife signs that we pass.
He is deceptively casual when he points out the lion up on the rock. We’ve seen lions much closer, but now we are on foot, with nothing in between us, and it feels totally different. The lion is just a flash of tawny brown against the rock. “Are we ok here?” we ask. Both guard and guide are alert but unconcerned. But then the stakes mount – there are three little cubs! You can barely see them without binoculars. I’m torn between wishing we were much closer, and thinking we should be much farther away. The lion disappears, and I have visions of her circling around us. Ivan tries to be comforting. The last security guard who died was killed by a buffalo, not a lion. I’m not quite as reassured as I’m supposed to be. In actuality, we’re really very far away, but I just don’t have the experience to know what a safe distance is.
In the middle of all this, we are experiencing a glorious sunset. I keep pivoting around to watch the sunset, and then back to see if I can still see the cubs. What an amazing walk!!!
The tents are wonderful. Other than the fact that they have canvas walls, it seems quite a misnomer to call them a tent. Imagine two four poster beds (to hold the mosquito netting), 2 nightstands and lamps by each bed, a ceiling fan, desk, coffee table and 2 chairs. Let’s not forget the bathroom, accessible via a canvas zippered opening in the back: flush toilet, 2 sinks, and a solar heated shower, that was not just warm but truly hot.
The food is very good, and is also nicely served. Luckily they got the baboon out of the dining room before we came to eat.
My bed was comfortable, with a really warm blanket and lots of pillows. But I was roused several times by my roommate loudly snoring. She didn’t do this before. I wonder if she’s sick. It sounds quite odd and uncomfortable. At 6:15 I get my wake-up call – a friendly good morning, with a delivery of hot chocolate. I sti in my 4 poster bed, drinking hot chocolate, and think that I could get used to this.
Day 17 – Oct 26
Over breakfast everyone excitedly comments on the lions that roared all night. I suddenly realize that my poor roommate was innocent of those noises! Good thing I didn’t accuse her! And how amazing that a simple shift in perspective changes the situation from annoying to appealing and exciting. I’m pretty sure there is a philosophical principle to learn here, but I’m eager to get going on our game drive, so I defer philosophy until later.
Today is our last game drive. I don’t feel as if I’m ‘done’ at all. I still have animals to see. I still have skies to appreciate. I’m even ready to breathe more dust and swat more flies, and eat more boxed lunches. Oh, and on the topic of flies, it’s been rather odd. I’ve had a few bites, but I’m basically not getting stung. What’s especially strange is that for my whole life I’m ALWAYS the one who gets stung. Whether it is mosquitoes, or black flies, or no—see-ums, or yellow-jackets, or wasps, they all make a bee-line (no pun intended) to me and bite, even when no one nearby is bothered. And this time it’s reversed. While it is true that I’m taking precautions, I’m still not sure why the bugs suddenly don’t like me. For 30 years I’ve refused to join my family in the Adirondacks because of the bugs and the long car drive, and yet here I am in Africa. This doesn’t make ANY sense to my friends or family, and I can’t really blame them.
Nov 24th, 2006, 03:44 PM
#72
Join Date: Nov 2004
Posts: 14,440
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
You saw a lion and cubs on foot! That is amazing. You can certainly tackle the Adirondacks, insects and all, after that!
You are so right about perspective with your comment on snoring vs. roaring.
I know that "I'm not done yet" feeling. It surfaces at the end of each safari for me, even on the longer ones.
You are so right about perspective with your comment on snoring vs. roaring.
I know that "I'm not done yet" feeling. It surfaces at the end of each safari for me, even on the longer ones.
Nov 27th, 2006, 04:59 PM
#74
Original Poster
Join Date: Jul 2006
Posts: 437
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
ARUSHA – FLIGHT HOME
Photos in ‘Arusha’ folder at: http://www.winkflash.com/photo/publi...?u=ajennerjahn
Day 18 – Oct 27
We meet in the parking lot to get in the land rovers for the last time. Ali, the other driver, gives a very simple but eloquent speech, thanking us for visiting, and reminding us that everything we spend helps the economy, and that most of the staff are supporting families who also benefit from our trip. It is somehow very honest and appealing.
We arrive at the airport. YIKES! I don’t do small planes. That’s why I didn’t choose a trip with flights between camps. And yet here I am. Instead of tarmac, I see a dirt road, which is apparently the runway. What if a zebra wanders across at the wrong time? If a couple of geese can bring down a jet, what would a wildebeest do to a Cessna?
There is actually not room for our trip leader with us on the plane, so he departs on a scheduled flight at 9, and the rest of us take the charter a little later. I need the gap in between to find a restroom, because I’ve finally ended up with a bit of a GI upset, and I’m needing hourly bathroom runs. Our plane arrives, and we wedge ourselves on it. There isn’t even a proper aisle between the seats, just a little slot. I find myself wondering what happens if someone tries to get on whose hips are too wide. Do they have to sit on the duffle bags in the back? I see a zipper above my head, and am momentarily disconcerted to think that the plane zips together, but then I realize it is only the lining. Once we take off, I stare at the instrument panel as if my concentration is somehow keeping the plane aloft. We pass ngorongoro and everyone leans over to look out the window. I try to look without leaning too close, subconsciously afraid I’ll tip the plane over. Luckily the plane and the pilot are oblivious to my silly fears.
We land uneventfully, and find vans and drivers ready to take us to our day room at the Arusha hotel. The hotel has a lovely peaceful garden, but most people are eager to spend every last minute (and dollar) shopping. I prefer to stretch my legs and see a bit of the city, so our trip leader arranges for a hotel staff member to take me on a walk. Emanuel suggests going to the market, which sounds great to me, so we set off. I’m curious about his name, and ask him if it is from the Bible. “Yes”, he says. He is a Lutheran, it turns out.
We stride down the street at a good pace. I’m so glad to have a chance to get my blood moving before the long flights home. When we arrive at the market it is hard to see how big it is, because there are multiple sections, and it is sort of like a maze within a maze. At first I wonder why I’m instantly recognizable as a foreigner, and then I realize that my white skin is immediately eye catching.
Even though most of the vendors don’t really speak any English, they greet me with ‘hello, hello’. The excitement wanes as I murmur a ‘tafadhali’ as I squeeze by, or an ‘asante’ as they move aside. I would love to photograph it all, but I prefer to blend in (as much as I can with my white skin), rather than causing a commotion. Occasionally Emanuel tells me I can take a picture. I’m not sure why he stops at those particular spots, but it gives me a chance to take a few shots. I try to be quick and inconspicuous, and we move on, stepping over people and occasionally crossing ditches that are spanned by uneven wooden slabs.
Some of the people are eagerly desperate. Some are hopelessly apathetic. Both are depressing, and make me feel vaguely guilty, simply for living in a situation with more privileges.
The market has close packed rows, with vendors sitting in the narrow aisles. Boys rush up offering plastic bags to induce me to buy. Vegetables are piled high: tomatoes, carrots, bananas, beans, pineapples, coconuts, cassava. We turn a corner and are in the butcher section, where I see hunks of mysterious meat hanging in the dark, covered with flies. Emanuel identifies hunks of goat for me, and then something dark and shapeless, which is the stomach, which people buy because it is cheaper. I notice a faintly rotten scent and I’m glad when we move on to the next section: rows of plastic jugs of cooking oil; woven baskets in all sizes and shapes, some four or more feet across; containers of cheap colored plastic; huge flat wooden spoons (nothing like the intricate carvings in the curio shops). Then we are back in foodstuffs: grains, some identifiable like rice, some indistinguishable. Some of the grain is piled in huge pyramids – I wonder how you take any without causing a collapse of the structure. One pile is called millet, but it doesn’t look like the millet I’m familiar with – there are lots of little hairy fibrous tendrils. I wonder if that is the source of the awful bitter hot cereal I tried at one of the lodges. I see piles of herbs and spices, which intrigue me, but I don’t quite dare to buy any – it is clear that Western concepts of hygiene are non-existent here, and I don’t really want to bring home a souvenir that keeps giving in the wrong way.
The odors change in each aisle – piles of tiny dried fish are less stinky than I expect, but still make their presence known. The fruit aisles are warmly aromatic, and the baskets and bowls have a clean woody scent.
This is yet another face of Africa. We’ve seen luxury hotels, innumerable curio shops, dusty game reserves, and exotic native villages, but I suspect that the market represents the people who are not supported by the tourism industry. There are way more vendors than there are purchasers, so I wonder who ends up buying the products, or whether they simply sit there day after day.
And finally it is time for a quick dinner, and our trip to the Kilimanjaro Airport. I re-pack, rolling my bottle amarulo in my inflatable seat cushion in the hopes that it will survive the trip in my duffle bag. Our group finds seats together and waits in the heat. Every time there is an announcement, we hope it will be time to board, but it is hard to understand what is being said. I’m amused that the chimes that sound to get people’s attention are tuned to the notes of an old western song, so I teach it to my travel mates:
I’m going to leave old Texas now,
They’ve got no use for the long horned cow.
Finally we embark, and take off for our flight home. My mind keeps recalling miscellaneous thoughts of Africa: the schoolchildren with the brightly colored uniforms – but why do they wear those comical zebra socks? The intersections in Nairobi without stoplights – how does anyone know when it is their turn to go? The incontinent woman in the Maasai village – was this a complication of FGM? Is there any chance she’ll get surgery? Esau (my delightful guide at Gibb’s Farm), teaching me the Jambo song as we hiked; The lame zebra – will it’s leg heal before it turns into someone’s dinner? The lame lion – who has a better chance because apparently the rangers may actually arrange for veterinarian help for him; The crocodile who was so frustrated trying to eat that impala – did he finally manage to dismember it? Esther (my porter at Sweetwaters) saying “African women are STRONG!” And a small boy who was begging alongside the road – his sad face and pleading gesture haunts my thoughts.
Photos in ‘Arusha’ folder at: http://www.winkflash.com/photo/publi...?u=ajennerjahn
Day 18 – Oct 27
We meet in the parking lot to get in the land rovers for the last time. Ali, the other driver, gives a very simple but eloquent speech, thanking us for visiting, and reminding us that everything we spend helps the economy, and that most of the staff are supporting families who also benefit from our trip. It is somehow very honest and appealing.
We arrive at the airport. YIKES! I don’t do small planes. That’s why I didn’t choose a trip with flights between camps. And yet here I am. Instead of tarmac, I see a dirt road, which is apparently the runway. What if a zebra wanders across at the wrong time? If a couple of geese can bring down a jet, what would a wildebeest do to a Cessna?
There is actually not room for our trip leader with us on the plane, so he departs on a scheduled flight at 9, and the rest of us take the charter a little later. I need the gap in between to find a restroom, because I’ve finally ended up with a bit of a GI upset, and I’m needing hourly bathroom runs. Our plane arrives, and we wedge ourselves on it. There isn’t even a proper aisle between the seats, just a little slot. I find myself wondering what happens if someone tries to get on whose hips are too wide. Do they have to sit on the duffle bags in the back? I see a zipper above my head, and am momentarily disconcerted to think that the plane zips together, but then I realize it is only the lining. Once we take off, I stare at the instrument panel as if my concentration is somehow keeping the plane aloft. We pass ngorongoro and everyone leans over to look out the window. I try to look without leaning too close, subconsciously afraid I’ll tip the plane over. Luckily the plane and the pilot are oblivious to my silly fears.
We land uneventfully, and find vans and drivers ready to take us to our day room at the Arusha hotel. The hotel has a lovely peaceful garden, but most people are eager to spend every last minute (and dollar) shopping. I prefer to stretch my legs and see a bit of the city, so our trip leader arranges for a hotel staff member to take me on a walk. Emanuel suggests going to the market, which sounds great to me, so we set off. I’m curious about his name, and ask him if it is from the Bible. “Yes”, he says. He is a Lutheran, it turns out.
We stride down the street at a good pace. I’m so glad to have a chance to get my blood moving before the long flights home. When we arrive at the market it is hard to see how big it is, because there are multiple sections, and it is sort of like a maze within a maze. At first I wonder why I’m instantly recognizable as a foreigner, and then I realize that my white skin is immediately eye catching.
Even though most of the vendors don’t really speak any English, they greet me with ‘hello, hello’. The excitement wanes as I murmur a ‘tafadhali’ as I squeeze by, or an ‘asante’ as they move aside. I would love to photograph it all, but I prefer to blend in (as much as I can with my white skin), rather than causing a commotion. Occasionally Emanuel tells me I can take a picture. I’m not sure why he stops at those particular spots, but it gives me a chance to take a few shots. I try to be quick and inconspicuous, and we move on, stepping over people and occasionally crossing ditches that are spanned by uneven wooden slabs.
Some of the people are eagerly desperate. Some are hopelessly apathetic. Both are depressing, and make me feel vaguely guilty, simply for living in a situation with more privileges.
The market has close packed rows, with vendors sitting in the narrow aisles. Boys rush up offering plastic bags to induce me to buy. Vegetables are piled high: tomatoes, carrots, bananas, beans, pineapples, coconuts, cassava. We turn a corner and are in the butcher section, where I see hunks of mysterious meat hanging in the dark, covered with flies. Emanuel identifies hunks of goat for me, and then something dark and shapeless, which is the stomach, which people buy because it is cheaper. I notice a faintly rotten scent and I’m glad when we move on to the next section: rows of plastic jugs of cooking oil; woven baskets in all sizes and shapes, some four or more feet across; containers of cheap colored plastic; huge flat wooden spoons (nothing like the intricate carvings in the curio shops). Then we are back in foodstuffs: grains, some identifiable like rice, some indistinguishable. Some of the grain is piled in huge pyramids – I wonder how you take any without causing a collapse of the structure. One pile is called millet, but it doesn’t look like the millet I’m familiar with – there are lots of little hairy fibrous tendrils. I wonder if that is the source of the awful bitter hot cereal I tried at one of the lodges. I see piles of herbs and spices, which intrigue me, but I don’t quite dare to buy any – it is clear that Western concepts of hygiene are non-existent here, and I don’t really want to bring home a souvenir that keeps giving in the wrong way.
The odors change in each aisle – piles of tiny dried fish are less stinky than I expect, but still make their presence known. The fruit aisles are warmly aromatic, and the baskets and bowls have a clean woody scent.
This is yet another face of Africa. We’ve seen luxury hotels, innumerable curio shops, dusty game reserves, and exotic native villages, but I suspect that the market represents the people who are not supported by the tourism industry. There are way more vendors than there are purchasers, so I wonder who ends up buying the products, or whether they simply sit there day after day.
And finally it is time for a quick dinner, and our trip to the Kilimanjaro Airport. I re-pack, rolling my bottle amarulo in my inflatable seat cushion in the hopes that it will survive the trip in my duffle bag. Our group finds seats together and waits in the heat. Every time there is an announcement, we hope it will be time to board, but it is hard to understand what is being said. I’m amused that the chimes that sound to get people’s attention are tuned to the notes of an old western song, so I teach it to my travel mates:
I’m going to leave old Texas now,
They’ve got no use for the long horned cow.
Finally we embark, and take off for our flight home. My mind keeps recalling miscellaneous thoughts of Africa: the schoolchildren with the brightly colored uniforms – but why do they wear those comical zebra socks? The intersections in Nairobi without stoplights – how does anyone know when it is their turn to go? The incontinent woman in the Maasai village – was this a complication of FGM? Is there any chance she’ll get surgery? Esau (my delightful guide at Gibb’s Farm), teaching me the Jambo song as we hiked; The lame zebra – will it’s leg heal before it turns into someone’s dinner? The lame lion – who has a better chance because apparently the rangers may actually arrange for veterinarian help for him; The crocodile who was so frustrated trying to eat that impala – did he finally manage to dismember it? Esther (my porter at Sweetwaters) saying “African women are STRONG!” And a small boy who was begging alongside the road – his sad face and pleading gesture haunts my thoughts.
Nov 27th, 2006, 05:12 PM
#75
Join Date: Nov 2004
Posts: 14,440
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Wonderful lingering thoughts of Africa. May they remain with you always. Glad you had a contrasting market experience to end your trip.
Quite the unexpected final leg of your transportation! "I see a zipper above my head, and am momentarily disconcerted to think that the plane zips together..."
I understand your concern about geese, but fortunately the wildebeest don't fly. Seriously, the geese thing hit (literally) a little too close to home for me on this last trip. In the first small plane we hit a bird on the upper section of the windshield. BAM!
This is a great report and will be especially helpful for anyone planning an OAT Best of Kenya and Tanzania Trip.
Quite the unexpected final leg of your transportation! "I see a zipper above my head, and am momentarily disconcerted to think that the plane zips together..."
I understand your concern about geese, but fortunately the wildebeest don't fly. Seriously, the geese thing hit (literally) a little too close to home for me on this last trip. In the first small plane we hit a bird on the upper section of the windshield. BAM!
This is a great report and will be especially helpful for anyone planning an OAT Best of Kenya and Tanzania Trip.
Dec 11th, 2006, 07:25 PM
#77
Join Date: Apr 2004
Posts: 4,222
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Ann,
The Thanksgiving holiday got in the way of my finishing your report, but now I have, and I wanted to thank you again for such a beautiful read. Adventures indeed! I hope you are able to return as soon as you like.
The Thanksgiving holiday got in the way of my finishing your report, but now I have, and I wanted to thank you again for such a beautiful read. Adventures indeed! I hope you are able to return as soon as you like.
Dec 12th, 2006, 01:48 AM
#78
Hi, Ann - from another Ann newbie to this forum.
I haven't got time to read it in full now, but am bookmarking for later.
we are just thinking about a trip to South Africa next July - can u tell me why u picked East Africa above the South?
I haven't got time to read it in full now, but am bookmarking for later.
we are just thinking about a trip to South Africa next July - can u tell me why u picked East Africa above the South?
Dec 12th, 2006, 04:21 AM
#79
Original Poster
Join Date: Jul 2006
Posts: 437
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Leely, Patty, thanks for your kind words. I'm so glad you enjoyed it.
Ann -- regarding why I picked East Africa rather than South Africa, my reasons may sound kind of silly, and might not make sense to someone else.
I'm quite a timid person, and find that travel works best for me when I go on an organized tour. The highest ranked tour agencies are exorbitantly expensive, and I was too scared to try a firm I hadn't heard of, so I decided to travel with OAT since I had used them in the past, and they have a great value. As a single, it seemed way too complicated and/or expensive to construct my own tour.
That being said, I probably would have chosen OAT's 'Ultimate Africa Tour', rather than Kenya and Tanzania, except I was too scared to take a trip with all those little planes. I will say that after experiencing the one small plane that my trip included, I was impressed by the simplicity of it -- no passports, no tickets, no check-in, no waiting.
So basically, rather than having any sophisticated reasoning, it was mainly the least scary option for me! Now my secret is out.
Ann -- regarding why I picked East Africa rather than South Africa, my reasons may sound kind of silly, and might not make sense to someone else.
I'm quite a timid person, and find that travel works best for me when I go on an organized tour. The highest ranked tour agencies are exorbitantly expensive, and I was too scared to try a firm I hadn't heard of, so I decided to travel with OAT since I had used them in the past, and they have a great value. As a single, it seemed way too complicated and/or expensive to construct my own tour.
That being said, I probably would have chosen OAT's 'Ultimate Africa Tour', rather than Kenya and Tanzania, except I was too scared to take a trip with all those little planes. I will say that after experiencing the one small plane that my trip included, I was impressed by the simplicity of it -- no passports, no tickets, no check-in, no waiting.
So basically, rather than having any sophisticated reasoning, it was mainly the least scary option for me! Now my secret is out.
Dec 29th, 2006, 01:10 PM
#80
Join Date: Aug 2006
Posts: 7
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
I am just jumping in on this post today for the first time. Really enjoying your tales. We just went to Tanzania November 17-27th and had an amazing time. Just my husband and I with our guide from Sunny Safaris - wonderful.
What is the tragic leopard story to which the one guy refers in response to your comments on Tarangire?
Also, looked at some of your photos really quickly - you had in the some of the birds ones - what am I. You had a Sacred Ibis in Ngorongoro - white bird with black neck and long black curved bill; you also had a kori bustard there; at Taragire your one bird looked like a white headed buffalo weaver. Enjoying your blog - we would already love to be back there so I understand your "next time". Africa gets into the blood very quickly...
What is the tragic leopard story to which the one guy refers in response to your comments on Tarangire?
Also, looked at some of your photos really quickly - you had in the some of the birds ones - what am I. You had a Sacred Ibis in Ngorongoro - white bird with black neck and long black curved bill; you also had a kori bustard there; at Taragire your one bird looked like a white headed buffalo weaver. Enjoying your blog - we would already love to be back there so I understand your "next time". Africa gets into the blood very quickly...
