Leely

I would have been very upset with the people who weren't interested in the baby elephant. And the driver trying to get a reaction from animals by driving right up to them. I wouldn't have said anything, so my head would have probably exploded. Luckily, MDK, you are a calm person.

MyDogKyle

Thanks, Leely, but I don't think the people who know me would necessarily describe me as "calm!" You should have heard my husband and me complaining about these folks to each other once we got back to our tent... and we still occasionally complain about them, even three months later!

Happy New Year, everybody. Keep the people of Kenya in your thoughts and prayers.

MyDogKyle

I'm hoping to post another installment this weekend.

I was also thinking about posting some pictures, because I love looking at other people's shots... what is the easiest way to do this so that a link is viewable from this forum? Right now I have my albums online on a private site, and I would only want to set up a smaller "highlights" album to post for the forum (because even if you think you want to read my never-ending trip report, you definitely don't want to look at my 2000+ pictures!)

Any suggestions? Is Kodak the simplest way to go?

Patty

Looking forward to your next installment! I find Kodak pretty easy to use, but then again, I've never really investigated other options.

cary999

Kodakgallery is easy. I prefer Smugmug because of more options for displaying. Smugmug also easy to use but Kodak probably easiest of all.

regards - tom

mydogspud

If you use Kodak, please check the box the lets people see your photos without having to "sign up" or "become a member".

That's like holding the photos hostage ...!

Leely

MyDogKyle, I like pbase but you have to pay about $23 a year.

MyDogKyle

Thanks for all the input. I'll check out the photo sites and see what's easiest for me. Right now our photos are all on Snapfish, so maybe I can post from there and see if the link works for you guys.

I'm sure I'm not the only one here feeling this, but it's been tough for me to think about our wonderful trip without also dwelling on the awful situation in Kenya recently. I feel a little selfish and decadent talking about our safari when so many people are suffering. So, I will try to get back into telling our story, but I wanted to mention this because it partly explains why I'm taking so long to write this trip report. Thanks for bearing with me, and I hope that in some small way this inspires someone to travel to Kenya some day (or at least reminds those of you who've been there why we all love this country so much).

MyDogKyle

PART 7 – “Bushwhacking for Lions” (Sept. 28th, 2007)

This morning we had a 6:30am appointment with Sweetwaters’ lions—more specifically, we would be going lion tracking with a ranger and using a transponder to try to locate the four collared female lions in the reserve. We had a clear view of Mt. Kenya beyond the waterhole as we left our tent (it’s definitely worth asking for a front-row tent here!) and walked over to the main lodge, where we met Alex, our ranger, and hopped in his Land Rover. We were the only ones signed up for lion tracking this morning, so it was a treat to have the vehicle (and Alex) all to ourselves. We saw some animals on our drive over to pick up the transponder guy from the Ol Pejeta research station—elephants, zebras, a huge herd of buffalo, waterbucks. Finding the lions themselves would prove to be much, much harder.

They picked up the signal from one of the radio collars fairly quickly, but the lions were camping out in very dense brush, and we drove around for a while trying to see them, with no luck. “They are here, very close,” Alex kept saying, sounding frustrated. “I promise you, they are here.” But the only animal we spotted was a cute little steinbok.

Then, a group of elephants with babies came by, making their way silently through the bush in that amazing way that elephants have. We stopped the car and watched them pass by, disappearing behind the short, leafy trees. Suddenly, we heard a shrill, startled trumpeting, and Alex said, “They have found the lions!” Some scuffling sounds, more trumpets, and then silence. Eventually we saw the elephants making their way across another clearing in the trees, farther away. At that point Alex began to seriously bushwhack with the vehicle, trying to find those lions—squeezing past trees into space so tight that leafy branches pushed through the windows and fell through the open roof, running the car right over little saplings (which sprang back up behind us). But still, no lions. Finally he had to say, with great disappointment, “I am so sorry, but we simply cannot get to where they are and we are out of time. We need to head back to the lodge now.” We said we understood, there are no guarantees with cats, and it certainly wasn’t for lack of trying. But we could tell both the guys really felt they had let us down.

We drove through the dense foliage back to the road… and within minutes, we saw four mama lions and a huge troop of cubs coming out of the bushes and onto the road right in front of us! Evidently between the elephants and all our crashing around in the Land Rover, they’d decided to give up their hiding place and move on. I think all four of us were equally excited to see them, and we all started laughing. The moms were trying to get the cubs to cross a little bridge in front of our car, and it was so funny to watch how the babies reacted to that “very scary” bridge. One mama crossed and stood on the other side waiting for them but the babies kept hesitating, goofing around and dawdling, then one by one summoning the courage to sprint across! After they had all made it over, with the other lionesses bringing up the rear, we followed at a distance. We were able to watch them walking up the road for a while, until they decided to head back into the brush and vanish. So, two hours of bushwhacking for 15 minutes of lions – and worth every second. (Not to mention, it was fun to do something our minibus could never do.) So now, between Kenya and India, we’ve had elephant assistance twice in finding the big cats! (An ellie flushed out a tiger right in front of our jeep in Corbett National Park, too.)
Just one of many, many reason to love those elephants.

(For those of you planning a visit to Sweetwaters, I highly recommend signing up for lion tracking. It was a fun adventure, and also a chance to get out and have the place pretty much to yourself while everyone else is still sleeping. It’s also one of the things offered at Sweetwaters that you can’t necessarily do in other parks, and it was fun to talk to the guys about these particular lions and how they use the data from the radio collars. If you do go, please consider tipping the rangers. They seemed more surprised when we did than just about anyone else we encountered on our trip, which made us wonder if people tend not to tip them.)

After breakfast back at the lodge, we headed out on another game drive with James. Right off the bat we saw some big herds: impalas, waterbucks, zebras, and some giraffes. James was in a very talkative mood, telling us about his large family. He has been married nearly 40 years and has 15 grandchildren, 4 of whom live with him. He asked about our family too, and at one point when we were stopped we showed him the photos we’d brought for Josephat (the little boy we sponsor in Tanzania). James commented on how Kyle was “a very good and handsome dog… and so big!” He was surprised to see a photo of us camping in a tent with our pup, and said, “In Africa, you are not allowed to camp with a dog like this.” I can understand why! He also admired a photo of our niece and said, “This is a very good baby.” Then he got out a photo of himself with his grandkids and told us he would like us to keep it, to help us remember him. It was as nice to sit and talk with James about our families as it was to drive around looking at animals.

When we reached the open grasslands, things accelerated quickly (and I don’t mean the minibus, which was stopped every five minutes for us to snap photos). James pointed out a lovely little morning dove, which we admired and then instantly forgot a few minutes later when he squinted into the distance, picked up his binoculars, and said, “Black rhino!” There he was, standing quietly near a stand of small trees and looking enormous, grazing quietly beside a lone cape buffalo. It was fun to see them side by side, just for comparing their size. We also spotted another huge animal, a gorgeous eland, looking like a hybrid of a cow and an antelope. Beyond him, zebras, a hartebeest standing lookout on a termite mound, and a large group of warthogs, prancing around with their tails high in the air for their babies to follow. “Kenyan antennas,” James called them. At one point I saw an odd sight—in the distance, a short figure was standing bolt upright and stock-still in silhouette, and at first I really thought I was looking at a small child standing out there in the grass (which freaked me out). But then it dropped back down onto all fours and ambled away, and I realized it was a large baboon who’d been standing up, arms hanging at his sides.

James also spent a lot of time on our game drives pointing out details of the landscape and plants, describing how all the various parts of the ecosystem worked together. It’s clearly his passion as a naturalist—the various systems and harmonies of nature. Today, for instance, he talked about the cooperative existence of the whistling thorn acacia and the tiny black ants that live in the galls on its branches and keep the giraffes from stripping the tree completely bare. We’ve found that James has become more and more talkative as he’s gotten to know us and realized that we’re not just interested in racing around looking for trophy photos of the big animals (even though we did tell him this up front—maybe he didn’t believe us). He really is a goldmine of information, and such a good storyteller. As always, when it’s time to move on he asks, “Sawa sawa?” and we reply, “Sawa sawa.”

We passed lots and lots of adorable, twitchy little Thomson’s gazelles with their perpetual-motion tails, and a big mixed herd of Burchell’s and Grevy’s zebras that broke into a gallop alongside our bus. And then, to my delight, another large herd of my favorite antelope, oryxes. A mother oryx was very gently teaching her tiny baby how to head-butt, while a slightly bigger baby looked on. The mom would hold her head down and let the baby butt into her with all his little might, then they would press their foreheads together and nuzzle. Another one of my favorite safari moments.

On the way back to the lodge we stopped near a big group of buffaloes and watched an industrious little oxpecker bird working his way around one buffalo’s face: diving deep inside the ears, then walking down to clean out the giant nostrils. We were delayed alone the way by an impala traffic jam—a buck anxiously gathering his harem in a bunch while they milled about in alarm, showing signs of something dangerous lurking nearby. We waited a bit to see what was worrying them, but nothing materialized and they eventually settled down and moved along. So then, back to the lodge for lunch (including a delicious dish called matoke, bananas in a spicy/sour sauce).

This afternoon we decided to take a little break and spend some time hanging out and relaxing. James recommended this as a good place to have an afternoon off, since we had a leisurely 2-night stay at Sweetwaters and would not have much time for leisure in our next few stops (Lake Nakuru and the Mara). It was too chilly for swimming, so we pulled the table and chairs in front of our tent closer to the waterhole and settled in to write postcards and work on the journal. (There is very little time to relax on safari, we’re finding, because there’s always something more interesting to see or do!) When I was writing a postcard to my 1-year-old niece, who loves zebras, I looked up and there at the waterhole was a tiny baby zebra, frolicking back and forth amongst the adults! I paused in my writing to shoot some video for her. And I had the idea to make a photo book for her when we get home, with all our best zebra pictures. (By the way, it was a HUGE hit this Christmas, and now I’m planning an African animal alphabet book using our photos, for another little family member who will be born in about a month.) We also hung out in the lounge for a while by a big picture window that offered another great view of the waterhole. My husband asked if he could play the piano there, and the staff at the desk was very enthusiastic. Unfortunately, the piano was horribly out of tune… but he didn’t want to stop after they had been so excited to hear him. We also took this time to “adopt” one of the sanctuary’s chimps, Tess (mother of little Joy), as an early birthday gift for him.

Dinner tonight was by candlelight… with the ambiance marred just a bit by being surrounded by large, boisterous tour groups (another loudmouth complaining about not seeing any lions—what is with these guys??). After dinner we sipped out first amarulas in the bar by the fireplace, beneath a massive old tusk that weighs 70kg. The bartender was really friendly and chatty, and the drinks were a sweet little sip of heaven.

So far, Sweetwaters has definitely felt like the most “touristy” stop of our trip (certainly the one where we’ve seen the biggest tour groups), but I would still recommend the place, especially for first-time visitors to Kenya or people who can’t tolerate too many long game drives (because of a bad back, etc.). The waterhole was extremely active whenever we were in camp, and there are lots of nice places to hang out and watch it. There are also some unique and fun things to do here—getting out of the vehicle to visit the chimps and Morani, night drives, lion tracking—and it is in a good location to break up the trip south from Samburu to central and southern Kenya. There is quite a lot of diversity in terms of landscape and animals here, and once we got out into the field we did not see very many other vehicles. The staff was so friendly and fun to talk with, including the rangers we met, and I was impressed that our waiter remembered our names and paused to chat with us (something that didn’t happen at any of the larger lodges). I think despite the size of the place, they are trying hard to give it the feeling of a smaller camp.

Nyamera

MyDogKyle, thanks for another wonderfully descriptive instalment! Though I find the “hartebeest standing lookout on a termite mound” a bit disturbing. It’s not standing lookout, it’s shameless topi imitation! I’ve seen impalas doing the same, and it’s even worse.

MyDogKyle

I know, I probably should have said, "A hartebeest pretending to be a topi." Because he definitely was.

Fortunately, we would see some REAL topis in the Mara, not pretending to be anything but themselves. (And, much later, a reedbuck pretending to be a lion... but I'll get to that eventually.)

Nyamera

Sounds like an interesting reedbuck … :-? I’m looking forward to reading the details.

Leely

Really enjoying this and looking forward to the next bit.

atravelynn

You cleverly included Kyle in your report. How nice you could do some picture swapping with your guide.

Great luck with the lions, even cubs. Just send in the elephants, I guess. I didn't know about the lion tracking option.

I could almost see the oryx head butting lesson take place.

Glad to read the waterhole was active. I think that would be a big draw to Sweetwater.

Maybe your husband can get a job as a safari lodge lounge act on the piano. You can sing Jambo Bwana and some other selections. You could be the Captain and Tennille of the safari circuit! A much younger version of course.

How nice you adopted a chimp.

Looking forward to the rest.

rainbowrose

Thank you so much for your report so far! I was lucky enough to spend 2 months at Sweetwaters Research Centre last summer and it's lovely to read your description of the place. I'm glad you got to see lions, we didn't see any until about three weeks into our stay and we were constantly driving around the reserve.

rainbowrose

I forgot to say that i also played the piano at tented camp!

hipvirgochick

Bookmarking for future research. Questions to follow!

MyDogKyle

PART 8 – “Rhinos, Rhinos Everywhere!” (Sept. 29th, 2007)

Today we had a long drive, from Sweetwaters to Lake Nakuru—a long drive made even longer by endless road construction and a distance- (but not time-) saving shortcut. Still, as tough as the roads are in Kenya, as much as they slam us up and down and sideways and scrape the bottom of the minibus and give us that fabled “African massage,” the road trips here are never boring. The rougher aspects of this one were alleviated greatly by the sight of so many little kids smiling and waving as we drove by, giving us the thumbs-up sign. (Not the “please give me a pen” sign or the open hand sign, which we’d see a lot more as we drove farther south.)

Our drive took us through Kikuyu country again, past lush green farms, crisscrossing the Equator several more times (funny how many of those “You Are Crossing the Equator” signs you see, sometimes right down the road from each other). This drive today was particularly beautiful. Beyond the wonderfully named “Aberdare Fountain of Knowledge Academy,” we saw gorgeous views of the forested slopes of the Aberdare mountains. We stopped briefly at Thomson’s Falls, which had a carnival atmosphere with all the tourists and hawkers and food vendors and folks dressed in traditional Kikuyu costume waiting to pose for pictures and a guy who would let you hold his pet chameleons for 200 shillings. The falls themselves are very pretty, but the people-watching was just as interesting. We found if we just walked a bit farther down the path above the falls, we could escape some of the most aggressive souvenir-sellers and have a bit of peace and quiet. But I guess that’s not really the point here.

Onward toward Lake Nakuru. In Nyahururu, the town closest to the falls, we saw a huge procession of people—probably hundreds—walking along the road toward the center of town. Many seemed to be dressed in their Sunday best (but it was Saturday). I asked James where he thought they were all headed, and he said it was for a political meeting. Sure enough, farther up the road we saw a mass gathering of people in an outdoor open space, with a stage set up and food sellers gathered around, firing up their grills. It made me wonder how many Americans would walk several miles for such a meeting.

One of the high points of this drive (literally and figuratively) was reaching the Rift Valley overlook after a steep and occasionally white-knuckled climb. The view was spectacular despite the haze (and I can imagine how brilliant it must be on a clear day). The drive down into the Rift Valley from that point was so lovely, winding past deep greens and bright flowers, terraced farms with leafy banana and coffee, maize and wheat, dotted with bright orange-blossomed flame trees and purple jacarandas. The best sight of all, though, was a big group of kids waiting for their school bus, who went wild when they saw us—smiling and waving, the girls putting their arms around each other and some boys breaking into a dance, striking silly poses for our camera. These are some of my favorite pictures from the trip, and I think about these children so often. We’re so lucky to have been stopped in traffic near them.

At last we reached Nakuru town, which bumps right up against the national park. Everyone seemed to be riding bikes here. We drove through a market with huge stalls selling sandals made from old tires (Maasai “hundred milers,” James called them), used t-shirts and bright new nylon backpacks, furniture, fruit, spices… and of course, bikes. As we were driving up to the entrance gate of the park we saw a wedding party taking photos on the lawn, all the women in matching lavender skirts and jackets. As we waited for James to sort out our paperwork at the gate, we wandered around the parking area watching vervet monkey mischief (roll up your windows here, everybody!) and peeking through the trees at the distance view—a splash of lake, with a thin rim of pink. The park is fenced, but there was a sizeable chunk of that fence knocked down right near where we were standing. I didn’t know whether to find this amusing or depressing. (After seeing the animal residents of Lake Nakuru, I made up my mind that the hole in the fence and what it might imply—animals wandering into the dangers of town and possibly getting hurt or killed, people sneaking in and possibly doing them harm or being harmed themselves—was indeed depressing.)

We drove a short ways through the park and up a steep hill to the Sarova Lion Hill Lodge, our home for tonight. This lodge is a series of little stone cottages scattered over the hillside and surrounded by lovely gardens filled with birdsong. The rooms themselves were fine, if a bit like a standard motel, but they had one of the most comfortable beds we encountered on our trip. (This was also the place where we had the most power outages, so it was nice to have a flashlight handy after dark.) The public areas were appealing, in an “I’m on safari!” sort of way—a bar and terrace with views of the lake through the trees, and a big timbered dining room open on one side, with jungly landscaping and frog ponds and African art on the walls.

It started to rain shortly after we arrived at the lodge, and was still raining pretty convincingly when we awoke from our afternoon nap in time for a game drive. We weren’t sure what to expect—whether this might create serious issues for the ice cream bus—but we hoped for the best. As it turned out, the rain ended up enhancing our experience here, and it certainly gave Lake Nakuru a different character for us from the other places we visited. All the greens (and pinks and greys! but more about that in a minute) were so much more vivid than they would have been under a bright, cloudless sky, and the air smelled clean and delicious.

We started off down a track called “Simba Road,” and before long encountered another stopped car looking at… a lion, sleeping in a tree! She was sound asleep, stretched out on a long branch, probably seeking relief from the bugs farther below in the long grass. We’d heard about those famous “tree-climbing” lions elsewhere in East Africa, but certainly weren’t expecting to see one here. So now, we’d been fortunate enough to find lions in every park so far except Mt. Kenya. This one, evidently, was pretending to be a leopard.

Farther along in the forest, we came across some very noisy baboons squabbling their way up and down a tree and carrying their little babies along for the ride. Then two female and one male waterbuck, which James dubbed “a waterbuck honeymoon.” Not long after that, we found a black rhino in the forest, so close we could look him right in the eye without binoculars! It instantly put our previous rhino sightings to shame—this guy was so close we could see the movements of his distinctive pointed lip as he grazed, and hear the crunch of his teeth. We knew Lake Nakuru was famous as a rhino sanctuary, but had no idea we’d see them this close (and now wondered what James must have been thinking when we’d gotten so excited about those far-away rhinos at Sweetwaters… “Just you wait, you rookies!”).

Heading onward, we had a chance to watch some zebras fighting in a broad, open plain threaded through with little tributaries from the lake. We ended up having a long, long time to watch those zebras, in fact, because ahead of us was a narrow earth bridge over the swampy ground, and off to one side of it was a tilted minibus, stuck. Behind that, a line of rovers and vans, waiting patiently while a big group of helpers tried to rock the vehicle back up onto the road. The car waiting behind us was blasting some Afro-hip-hop, so our video of the zebras got a complimentary soundtrack. Fortunately, we only had to wait about 20 minutes before the minibus was set free, everyone clapped and cheered, and traffic started moving again. Just beyond this point, we had a very close sighting of two gigantic elands goofing around together, bucking and romping by the side of the road.

The other highlight of today was, naturally, those superstars of Lake Nakuru – the flamingos. After James stopped and checked with a ranger to be sure it wasn’t too wet to drive near the shore, we headed to a spot away from the other vehicles, where we could see (and smell the pungent odor of and hear the cacophonous noise of) a wide band of greater and lesser flamingos in the shallows of the lake. Keeping an eye on a distant herd of buffalo, we climbed out of the minibus and walked across the squishy ground toward the birds, absorbed in the symphony of noise and color before us. It was an incredible sight—hundreds, if not thousands of them, preening, eating, squabbling and prancing in a pink-grey mob, with dark water behind them and everywhere else around us a brilliant green with rain misting down. Who says rain is a bad thing? Here, it just made everything that much more beautiful. As my husband walked a few steps closer to the birds, a small group of them took off into the air, a flurry of flapping pink and black, with their necks outstretched. It was amazing to see, and what an indescribable feeling to have out boots in the soil (or in this case, mud) and nothing between us and the wildlife. These moments with the flamingos were a perfect example of how Africa constantly surprises you—you think you know what to expect (flamingos at Lake Nakuru), but you never know exactly how its going to unfold, and you certainly don’t know how it will make you feel.

So, back into the ice cream bus and how do we top that? How about finding a family of four white rhinos just up the road, grazing right beside our vehicle with a backdrop of blue-grey lake and pink flamingos? They were so close we could almost have reached out and touched them (not that we would ever do such a thing, of course). And this was of their own volition, because after James turned off the engine they wandered over and started grazing right beside us. The young ones were so cute, smaller and softer-looking than their mothers. After they’d left us and we headed farther along the lake we encountered another group of white rhinos, bringing our rhino total for today up to nine. We also saw a group of waterbucks standing out in the water, completely surrounded by flamingos. They took off at a trot, stirring up the bird soup around them into a flurry of pink.

It was time to go, as the light was beginning to grow dusky and James wanted us to have time for the view from Baboon Cliff. We drove quickly through the forest, standing up with our heads out the roof to inhale the dense, musky smell of foliage after rain, the rain stopped now but the sky still heavy above us, the color of lead. I’m in Africa! I kept thinking, I’m in Africa! We sat down as the road grew rougher and bumpier. And good thing we did, because WHAM! The poptop roof came crashing down when the minibus went over a particularly big bump, and I shudder to think of what that would have felt like on our heads. From now on, no more standing up when the bus is moving, kids! A word to the wise – it sure is tempting to have your face out the top of the bus, but these things can happen. You might happily leave your heart in Africa, but you sure don’t want to leave your head there.

We made one more stop along the shore to watch white pelicans fishing, using a clever cooperative method in which they all dive under at once and corral the fish within their circle. Then on up the hill to Baboon Cliff, a very aptly-named place where we had a fantastic view of the whole silvery lake and the thick fringe of pink spreading out from its edge. Again, how many ways can you say something is beautiful, awe-inspiring, breathtaking… especially when you hear a heavy thump behind you and think you’ve been joined by another person admiring view, but actually it’s a huge baboon stopping by to remind you that this view is actually his, thanks very much? We also saw our first pair of rock hyraxes here. Even though everyone always mentions their distant relation to elephants, it’s still hard to believe when you see these little creatures scampering about. We also had a humorous moment when a group of teachers and school kids went over to the railing to pose for a group photo with the view. Just as they were all saying “Jambo!” for the camera (literally), a baboon saw his chance. He raced to their bus, snagged a huge bunch of bananas, and took off running. The kids scattered with howls of protest and chased after him, but to no avail—he was off down the face of the cliff, clutching his prize, with the other baboons and their babies in hot pursuit.

On our way back to the lodge we had a few more lucky sightings. A spotted hyena loped across the road in front of us, whooping as he headed along the shoreline, sizing up the flamingo buffet. And finally, one more black rhino in the forest, this one a big male so close to the road that James did not think it was wise to stop. A ten-rhino game drive!!

Tonight at the lodge we had some fun entertainment—a group of dancers and musicians who performed a Kikuyu welcome dance (to a version of the ever-popular “Jambo Bwana”), followed by Kikuyu, Luo and Ugandan dances and music. Since we’re both musicians, we were happy to have the chance to hear some live music (not something we expected to get much of on safari, and indeed in most places any music on offer was more along the lines of a singing guitar player). At dinner we celebrated the day with two house cocktails: a “black rhino” (chilled stout mixed with brandy) and a “flamingo tail” (rum, fresh cream and grenadine). On our way back to our cottage from dinner, we stopped to watch the tiny frogs serenading us from their lily pads in the pond, and I got my first African mosquito bite, right on the forehead.

Nyamera

MDK, thanks for another instalment full of eyes-wide-open observations. It made me want to return to Nakuru. For obvious reasons, I was already thinking of that town.

Here’s a Zanzibari version of Jambo Bwana: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FRSCiIxZtEQ

MyDogKyle

Thanks! I love that video!! Too bad we didn't meet him on Zanzibar (just a bush baby out in the daytime, pretending to be this guy... As you can see already, the theme of my trip report is animals pretending to be other types of animals).

After all I'd read about the various places we'd be visiting on our trip, I honestly expected Lake Nakuru to be sort of a "pit stop" on our way to the Mara -- especially since so many itineraries only give half a day to this park. While it is a small park, it's an incredibly beautiful place, and we saw so much wildlife it made my head spin. I really loved it there.

It's so painful to hear about what's going on in Kenya lately, and it's constantly on my mind as I'm writing this report. Fortunately I heard from Serah and she let me know that James and his family are okay (as are Serah and the rest of the staff), but of course I am still worried and upset for everyone. It is even more painful to hear about terrible things happening in a place you've visited (and love), because then it's not in any way abstract -- instead of worrying in general for all the people of a far-away place called Nakuru (as I would for a place I'd never been that I just read about in the news), I am also thinking specifically of those school kids at the bus stop, and the dancers and musicians, and the wedding party we saw, and everyone else who touched our lives in some small way as we traveled around Kenya.

At the risk of sounding like I'm on a soapbox, I think this is the single most valuable thing we get from travel, though -- the connection to places and people far from our own everyday lives, so that when something good happens there you rejoice for them too... and when something bad happens, you care in a very real, personal way, and not just in the abstract. It makes the world a much smaller place, for both good and bad. I love Kenya even after only having been there once, and I feel like I owe so much to the people (and animals) there. I'm just writing off the top of my head now, so I hope my ideas are coming across in a way that makes sense.