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.
