Three Cities

Narok - Part 1 "The River Runs Wild"

Narok...a blend of smog, people and utter chaos, and our destination for our large grocery run. A late departure from camp, a bad combination of kerosene/fuel in the pick-up, a 3 hour delay at the mechanic, as well as storm clouds on the horizon; in hindsight, I suppose these events were forshadowing things to come.

As the sun began to set, Douglas, Leonard and I found ourselves packing and repacking the truck for the return journey to camp. Barely managing to fit all the items onto the back of the truck, we eventually resorted to using our laps to carry the more "fragile" products (ie eggs). With everything safely stowed away, we bid Narok farewell and began our journey home.

Leonard

Lightning stretched across the horizon as the heavens opened up with a torrential downpour causing already dangerous roads to become entrenched and slick. What was originally going to be a 3 hour trek became a 5 hour odyssey. I say odyssey because having only 1 CD in the truck meant that by the time we reached Oloolaimutia, well after midnight, we could sing along to all the tracks.

Unable to cross the now raging Sand River, we grabbed our torches and trekked through the darkened streets of Oloolaimutia in search of a safe place to stay the night. The local hotel aptly named Sweethearts proved to be both clean and dry and exactly what this ragged mzungu needed. Nothing could keep me from sleeps embrace!

By morning the roads had improved little. Tired but not beaten we headed to camp with fingers crossed. Six attempts at the first crossing did not deter us from what lay ahead after all the local Maasai did aid us by pushing our vehicle through the not quite knee deep mud. The Sand River however proved another matter. A second camp vehicle with most of the staff tagging along was already waiting for us on the other side of the river ready to lead our vehicle across. At this juncture I have to admit that I was slightly fearful of the churning waters. My instincts were telling me "no" while everyone else was saying "go". In the end, the staff waded through the water, tied a tow line to our truck and towed us to safety. The adrenaline coursing through my veins, I was now ready for another adventure but first things first, a cup of chai and a hot shower.

Nairobi - Part 2 "There and Back Again - A Mzungu's Travel Tale"

Stars dotted the night sky as I made my way to Oloolaimutia to catch the 3AM matatu to Narok and then ownward to Nairobi. This was to be my first attempt at the local mode of transportation. I was eager to hit the open road with these legendary drivers. Dodging pot holes, trash and mud trenches, our driver manoeuvred our vehicle to "designated" stops to pick-up his passengers. Desginated stops is a liberal term as in the pitch of night we would stop at some house or manyatta, honk the horn and wait for those inside to make their way to the matatu. How the driver knew where to stop will remain a mystery to this day. With 12 seats already full and only 2 places remaining, I could scarcely believe my eyes when we made additional stops. Where were those people going to sit? The more people were squeezed into our vehicle, the more impressed I became by my fellow passengers sheer determination. In the end, we managed to fit a whopping 23 people in our proverbial clown car. As it was cool and raining outside, I enjoyed the warmth within.

Angele & Douglas

 The return journey was to be another highlight of Kenyan life. Imagine a 26 passenger bus laden with people, goods and fowl. It took the driver and his men a whopping 4 hours to secure everything and everyone onto, atop and into the bus. This was going to be a whole new experience unlike the matatu. As I quietly sat in my designated seat, I watched the men haul 50kg sacks of sugar into the aisles followed by 20ltr vats of cooking oil. Under every seat they managed to stow away vegetables, pangas, boxes, bags, etc... As for the top of the bus, .furniture, drums of fuel next to bags of fresh charcoal were securely strapped for the return journey to the Mara. The most comical part to me was the loading of chickens. With legs tied together, they hung in rows on either side of the bus. Throughout the journey, beaks would peck at the glass and beady eyes would look at you accusingly as you sat in relative comfort as babies sat on strangers laps, passengers squeezed together onto seats and several extra people crammed the aisles. If only I had brought my camera.

Sekenani - Part 3 "The Last Crusade"

Everyone in camp used to tell me that if you went out to buy a sack of potatoes it could take you all day and there were no guarantees of your being successful. I was about to understand this concept.

Ernest

Hot and dusty best described the roads, the air and ourselves. It was essential to travel to Sekenani as we were running low on cooking gas and with a shortage in Kenya, it only seemed right to head to a balloon company and await their delivery truck.

Being organized as I am, I stayed in constant contact with the delivery driver. With an estimated arrival time of noon, James, Ernest and I headed to Sekenani. Upon our arrival however, we were informed that the driver was nowhere near where previously mentioned. We therefore decided to walk through the town, do a little shopping and find a place to quench our thirst and satisfy our hunger. Most establishments were either too dirty or too hot but in the end we settled on the "Star Hotel" as it most importantly offered cold sodas. With ice cold bottles pressed against our foreheads, we dined on local goat and rice.

Now we had to kill time...first we parked the truck under the only tree we could find and listened to James' tunes. Secondly, as their was no breeze in town, we decided to create our own by driving down the washboard road. Finally, we walked around town approximately 5-6 times, as the town only had 3 streets, stopping at the same establishments as when we first arrived as we may have missed seeing something new.

Our delivery driver finally pulled into Sekenani well after 6pm...a good 6 hours off schedule. Regulations state that the canisters cannot be filled until the air within has cooled. As the park gates were closing at 6:30pm, we decided it best to leave the empty canisters and return in the morning. Armed with the best "sweet talker" in camp, we managed to make our way through both park gates and arrive in camp by 8pm. For once, I actually looked forward to a cold shower.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Muthaiga Staff

This may well be my last blog until after the New Year. Wishing everyone a safe and blessed Christmas!

Angele/Naserian/Malaika

New Friends

With everything I have experienced so far, I must say that the highlight of my time here has been meeting the people. Their hospitality is as warm as the African sun. I periodically pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming and if I'm not pinching myself the children are to make sure this "mzungu" is real and not a ghost. I have been busily photographing the children including those that have been sponsored to further their education by foreigners. This task has generally been followed by tiny hands clamouring to view the LCD screen on my camera. Every click of the shutter has brought on a chorus of giggles from my new friends. Imagine being mobbed by so many smiling faces grasping at your arms and hands that you can't even take a step forward. This is what I've experienced at the schools and local bomas. I beam at the memory! The other day I was a guest of honour at the Opilagilagi school closing as another school term was coming to an end. After handing out colourful pencils I had managed to stow away in my camera bag, I was entertained by angelic voices. Singing in their native tongue only heightened the experience. The headmaster's closing speech was followed by a prayer and then the dismissal for the holiday break. The children ran so fast it was as though they were being carried away by the wind.  Afterwards, we headed over to one of the local Maasai villages to hand out shoes that were so generously donated by past clients of the camp. There will always be more bare feet than shoes but there was no animosity among the villagers only joy for those who were lucky enough to have the right shoe size. In the end, the village elders were so grateful they sent us back to camp with a beautiful rooster which became part of our dinner the next evening. It was delicious!

Kenyan VS Mzungu Soccer Match

The game was tight. The crowd, anticipating a "mzungu" win, roared with each goal scored upon the Kenyan team. Actually, to be really honest there were only 3 mzungus - Greg, Libby and myself, of which two of us made up the team along with some "honorary mzungus" (a.k.a. our Kenyan staff and some of the best players in camp), while Libby cheered us on from the sidelines. Strategically this was in our favour as she did enthusiastically guide Greg's every move as goalie. Thank goodness I was goalie # 1.5! It can be quite intimidating, to say the least, to have staff members who I'm sure practice "football", soccer for North Americans, in their sleep come at you with the full force of a tidal wave intent on only one thing...getting that ball through the goal line. I must say that when I did eventually catch that incoming ball everyone including myself stood wide eyed at what had just been accomplished. I had prevented a tie and in the end I had won the game. Although I'm sure there are those on my team who would dispute this fact. Then again, this is my blog. Only a few things to note if you should ever organize an impromptu football game out on the plains. First off, playing barefoot only makes it easier for the thorns to wreak havoc with the feet. Secondly, the ball is just as susceptible to punctures when playing near thorny acacia trees and thirdly, the inevitable tall tales are bound to surface around the camp fire. Now this isn't to say its all fun and games in camp. The respite from work however is always appreciated and when I'm not out on the football field, I can usually be found working away in the camp office. Work is never far away and if you can't find it, it will surely find you... as will most other things around here!

The Green Grocery Cart

All good things have a beginning and end. Our 3 hour trek to Narok began in the early hours of the morning, 5AM to be exact. The stars had yet to give way to the sun. Nevertheless, bright eyed and bushy tailed, we headed out in our trusty green pick-up truck for a much needed grocery run. As the sun crept over the mountains, illuminating both the landscape and the grazing wildlife, I hunkered down in the front seat, warmed by James our driver on the right and Douglas, my office mate on the left. Whoever said being stuck in the middle wasn't a good thing needs to reconsider its benefits.

The washboard effect on the roads combined with the pot holes that lead to oblivion gave one a true sense of the word "Kenyan massage". May I be bold enough to suggest a spa in its stead. After 3.5 hours of being jostled around in the truck like a ping pong ball, we pulled into the Kenol gas station for our first order of business, a round of chai. By mid-morning we had purchased only 1/4 of the required items as the sun began to heat up the city streets. With the realization that we would not be returning to camp by late afternoon, we shopped on. As the day progressed, our pick-up finally began to show signs of its heavy cargo. Only two more stops and we could breathe a sigh of relief. At the Nakumatt, Douglas and I each grabbed a grocery cart and proceeded down the narrow aisles of the store with our lists in hand. As each cart filled, another empty one took its place. In the end, four carts, brimming with goods, were neatly lined at the cash register and with as much time as it took to load them, they were processed and marched out to the truck. 

Finally, our last stop, the Narok outdoor market. Douglas had the foresight to call ahead with our order and when we pulled in, Patricia was waiting for us with the last items on our list, the veggies. This proved to be our stalemate. With the truck leaning precariously to one side, we realized a few things would have to be reshuffled at the back. At first,only a few items were removed, however, the puzzle proved to be a little more complex, for the men that is, then previously thought and in the end the entire truck was unloaded, reloaded with some female guidance and secured. Patricia returned a few moments later to reward each of us with 2 bananas and for this, we were extremely grateful.

Rumps bruised and my hair tousled into a virtual birds nest, our 14 hour journey ended as we rolled into camp, our green grocery cart heavy laden with goods. Although weary eyed, I was elated to have arrived safely with everything in tack including all my senses. Plus, who wouldn't be overjoyed to be greeted by Libby with a cold Tusker in hand.  

Doom - sday

A follow up to my last blog...

As I stated earlier, sometimes it is better to just walk away. Yesterday afternoon, I returned to the office to find Douglas surrounded by 15 dying bees. Interestingly enough, Douglas is one of few people in camp who refuses to use the insecticide yet the familiar smell of Doom was most apparent. He sheepishly admitted to succumbing to its use after all, the bees were trying to make his office their new hive. Several minutes later, one could distinctively hear the sound of swarm of bees fast approaching. As I looked up into the sky, they were headed our way. In my mind, it was a retaliation against Douglas for the "murder" of  their extended family. 

Benjamin, our office manager, and I headed for cover while Douglas hurriedly zipped the tent fly shut. Hundreds of bees surrounded the office tent and all any of us on the outside could do was laugh at Douglas' predicament. "If the bees are still there by dinner, can I have your dessert?" was all I could manage to say between chuckles. The bees did finally settle down on a branch next to the office tent. As of this morning, they are still waiting presumably for another chance to either infiltrate the office or ambush Douglas.  

Strange Bedfellows

I have forged many friendships since my arrival in camp however none have been more intimate than with Africa's smallest creatures. Although I do have a can of "Doom" (local insect spray) at my disposal and within easy reach, I can honestly say I have yet to use it though the urge to do so has not always escaped me. With fierce determination, I have driven several creatures out of my tent only to find that others have taken up residence. It all comes down to mutual respect. Case in point...a long legged spider had taken up residence between my sink and the soap dish. It would occasionally wander onto my bar of soap and as long as I did not require use of the soap I was more than happy to let it reside there as it also kept an eye out for other undesirables. Then of course there was the large bow wheevil (I think?) that strategically positioned itself in the middle of the bathroom floor between the entrance and the flush. Naturally, I tiptoed around it. No need to look under the bed as that is where you would find the crickets chirping you to sleep.  Now this isn't to say there haven't been some exceptions to the use of an insecticide. Although not having handled the Doom myself, I will say there have been moments I have readily encouraged and cheered others on to do so - such as yesterday. The camp office had become a magnet for stinging insects. With stealth like manoeuvrability, giant wasps (anything bigger than my thumb is giant), were using our heads for target practice. We would chase them out of the office, zipper the tent fly only to discover we had sealed ourselves in with at least one enemy operative. The final answer; unleash the Doom!  At times this strategy worked but generally, it was just plain safer to wait them out. Unless they were siyafu (biting ants), in which case I would recommend a complete detour of the area. Then of course there is the inevitable EEEEEKKKK moments. You scurry one way and they, another...some of the time. This evening, while I lay awake in bed, a moth fell on my face. No need to panic you might say as it is only a harmless winged creature but in the dark, EVERYTHING is amplified. It felt and sounded so much bigger in the pitch blackness. I swatted at the air until I was sure that not even a dust spec could find its way onto my pillow which is also why I am now journalling with a flashlight at an unreasonable hour. With all the good, the bad and the ugly, I have discovered that these creatures are as fascinating as they look and sound. Now about the snakes...

New Experiences

Where to begin.... 

There is so much that has happened, that I have begun to loose track of my days here. As most of you are aware, I have been given a new name. I cannot deny that when the Maasai call out "Naserian", I beam with pride as I know it is my name and in my heart I am humbled by its meaning, "peaceful one". What more could I ever hope for in this experience than what I have already been given. 

Every day brings with it a new adventure. No nights, no mornings, and certainly, no days are the same. As I write, a particular incident comes to mind. I was in a search of a bucket when I stumbled into the staff kitchen, not to be mistaken with the client kitchen which I frequent often. As it was nearing 5 o'clock, several Maasai had begun to queue at the counter with cups in hands. My curiosity must have been written all over my face for Douglas, my office mate, gave me his cup and suggested I try the "ugi" or maize porridge. A little apprehensive at first, as I was not sure what to expect, I decided to give it a try. What I tasted was not only hot, thick and sweet but oh! soooo good that I drank every last drop. The Maasai thought my routine of cooling down my ugi by blowing on it quite comical. With hand gestures and "ummm" sounds, they knew I was enjoying my experience. Thus began my first lessons in Ma.  

This same day was also a lesson in speed and endurance. As my taste buds were being treated to a savoury experience, Greg and Libby were being dazzled by a stunning double rainbow over the African landscape. Naturally, Greg called my mobile to request a photo. While I was racing to my tent to retrieve my camera gear, I temporarily stopped to gaze upwards and that's when the siyafu (nasty little ants) started running up my legs. These ants are merciless. Their crawling causes your legs to tingle which creates a chain reaction of your itching and their biting. What had begun as a race to fetch my camera ended in a mad dash to my tent to strip off my pants. Of course the story didn't end there. The staff eventually gathered on the front lawn of the main tent for their photo op under the aforementioned rainbow. In the meantime, I had returned with new pants, set up my tripod and camera and had begun to click away. And that's when "they" struck. If you guessed ants, you are right! During the photo shoot, another colony of siyafu had run up the legs of the staff. So much swatting and beating of pants by staff may have caused a slight sympathetic chuckle behind the lens. 

Endless Possibilites

Day 8

My mornings typically begin with the sound of the askari (night watchmen) collecting the evening lanterns.  This is my unofficial 5:30 am wake-up call.  My watch is set to go off in another hour but there is no sense in waiting for it.  As they say, “the early bird gets the worm”.  My cold shower becomes a distant memory as I step out in the early morning light and let the sun’s rays envelope me in their warmth. I make my way to the kitchen to fix myself a cup of coffee before the kitchen staff arrives for their work day.   

The days go by at a perfect pace, neither rushed nor dull. I find myself enjoying the quiet and solitude. Each day provides me with a new challenge and with that, the little hamster in my head begins to turn its wheel. You can contemplate quite a lot out here in the middle of a perfect nowhere. With warm cup of coffee in hand, I often sit out on the veranda and let my mind wander.  When I first arrived, someone said that I would eventually suffer from “camp fever” but I find that to be quite the opposite.

After a hearty breakfast, made to order, I begin another work day.  My office in camp affords a view of the comings and goings of the staff, and as I type away on the computer, a lovely breeze permeates the space. I am not inundated with the sounds of telephones, intercoms, fax machines and copiers. In fact, the only sounds I hear throughout my day are of people and wildlife (and the occasional cell phone). 

The weather in Olderikesi Conservancy is as varied as the day’s activities. On most mornings we are blessed with the sun and a warm breeze.  By mid-afternoon, we are generally greeted with a torrential downpour and on a rare occasion, as was the case yesterday, hail.  Unfortunately, those little white pebbles on the ground only helped to bring to mind the snow that will eventually welcome me on my return journey to Canada.  I shudder at the thought.  

The remainder of my work day is only interrupted by wonderfully varied meals and of course, the traditional afternoon tea.  There isn't an aspect in my day I don’t look forward to…except for one.  Greg or Libby begin all of our meals with a trivia question. I for one do not claim to be a genius, and although I have only had one correct guess since my arrival, I prefer to be the “stumper” than the stumped.  Perhaps today will be my lucky day, after all I am in Africa and as far as I can tell, anything is possible. 

The African Queen

Day 3

If given the choice, I would refer to myself as the African Queen. However, seeing as Greg is my boss, I have been appropriately dubbed the "newbie". Perhaps my moments of absent mindedness upon on first meeting have given him justification but let's not delve into these. 

I may be the new kid in camp, but in the last few days, I have come to realize that even throughout my unpredictable work day, there are moments, even at Muthaiga Camp, that can draw my attention away to leave a permanent impression on my mind such as...

1. the glow of the kerosene lanterns as they silhouette the "Askari" against a darkening sky while they go about delivering the lanterns throughout camp;

2. the crunching of zebra hooves on the quartz paths as they meander through camp in the early morning hours;

3. the sweet sound of Maasai adornements as metal chimes against metal;

4. the sound of the rolling thunder across the savannah heralding an impending storm followed by a spectacular light show;

5. the way the early morning sun highlights the yellow acacia trees;

6. the way a cold shower rejuvenates me in the morning and would in reality take anyone's breath away;

7. the nightly hot water bottle tucked into the sheets that is still warm enough in the morning to work wonders after #6

I appreciate the complexities of camp affairs but at the same time, it is the simplicity of camp life that has reaffirmed my decision to have travelled to Africa once again. Tomorrow's market day will reveal whether or net I have romanticized my placement.

--------------

Day 4

I have been anticipating this day since my arrival. With crates, bags, check-lists and money in hand, James (my trusty driver) and I made our way through a maze of mud holes to the Oloolaimutia market. Everywhere I looked, I was greeted by a sea of smiling faces. Maasai men and women, draped in an array of vibrant fabrics and adorned with their finest bead work  made me seem out of place in my dusty khakis. My fascination with these people was also equalled by the amount of stares I received. However dressed, I still felt as though I belonged. After a few hours of shopping and a quick stop for some sodas, James and I returned to camp. The breeze we created as we raced home was a much welcomed relief from the midday sun. 

Crazy James, as he likes to be called, decided that as we had not seen wildlife on the way to the market, that the herds of cattle would become our zebra, the sheep our impala and the goats our gazelles. Luckily, on the return journey, we were rewarded with actual zebra, impala and gazelle sightings. 

Upon our return to Muthaiga camp, we proceeded to unload our stock, and although sweaty and stinky, James declared that I looked to be the happiest person in camp today. In that moment, I knew that I could rival Hepburn's role as the African Queen.

Muthaiga Camp

Day 1

After a hearty breakfast, Greg, Libby and I departed from the Country Lodge to for the long journey to camp. Driving through Nairobi brought back many memories of my past travels here including the morning traffic, the blooming Jacaranda trees and of course the scent of diesel and the coating of dust. 

The days events unfolded as predicted with a few stops to restock camp that included the butcher shop, the vegetable market, the bank, etc. .. You wouldn't believe the road improvements in the last 3 years. An actual paved road led us most of the way and the story wouldn't be complete without the inevitable flat tire. Of course we took it all in stride...that is the girls went into the shop while the boys changed the tire. Thank goodness we had had lunch...need strength to shop after all.

When we did make it to camp, we were greeted with warm smiles and cold drinks. The remainder of the evening began with pizzettas and wine around the fire followed by an exquisite four course dinner. I may have to include an exercise regime into my daily schedule if that is any indication of the quality and quantity of food I have already digested in my short time here. 

-------

Day 2

"Did you sleep well?" seems to be the proverbial question to be asked in the morning. How can I respond. Although fascinated by the night calls of the local wildlife, I can't say it was conducive to my beauty sleep (biased of course). If I were a conspiracy theorist, I would say the wildlife was studying my nocturnal habits. That is, I would begin to fall asleep when the monkeys would serenade me with screeches, the resident leopard would pant (that's right, his home is next to my tent - lucky #7), and well you guessed...the rest of the wildlife would join in. 

Although a wee bit tired this morning, one can't blame me when one is gazing at a watch every hour trying to gage how many hours of sleep is left before breakfast. The remedy... a cold shower (not by choice) to rejuvenate the senses...something I would have rather had a cup of coffee do.

If a cold shower wasn't enough, I was greeted by a booming afternoon thunderstorm. As we all dined in the dining room, I kept trying to remember if I had closed my tent flaps soon to discover that although no water had come into the main tent, the bathroom on the other hand, well let's just say water had pooled on the bathroom floor and shelves, inside the sinks, glasses, soap dish and of course the Kleenex box. A little soggy but nothing a towel couldn't dry up, although the Kleenex box may be beyond rescue. 

Today is nearing an end and it's already time to eat again...until next time.

Africa

Where to begin? Firstly, I was very sick this past year. It took several ER visits to discover what wasn't wrong with me and a naturopath (and a lot of prayer) to finally find the answer. I won't bore you with the details save to say that I am about 85% recovered or as normal as I can remember being this time last year. The thing about being sick is that God usually uses that moment to create an opportunity to teach you something about yourself. I can't say I'm in the "suck it up buttercup" camp any more, because sometimes, you just can't suck it up. And that's OK too! What I did learn was that no matter what comes our way, God will never give us more than we can handle. After a lengthy discussion with God, alot of prayer, and some much needed advice from friends...I have decided I will be heading off to Africa for a 73 day volunteer placement [pause] ... beginning October 7th. I should be home a week before Christmas barring no travel complications, then again, I may decide on staying longer. I will be stretching myself both physically, emotionally and spiritually as I will be working at a safari camp in the Kenyan bush with an all male staff. When the camp isn't overrun with clients, I will have the opportunity to teach the locals computer skills and also organize weekly educational visits to schools. I will be there to learn new skills and impart some of my own talents. This is where everyone starts to question my purpose for this or my sanity. So many of us including myself spend our lives wondering what our purpose is in life. Africa has been a life long dream, and for those of you who know me well, this is not a new revelation. Nothing may come of this trip but then again, God has given me the ability, the opportunity and the desire to do this. All I ask in return are your prayers and words of encouragement. Otherwise, I look forward to you all sharing in my adventure.