Killing Fields

April 30, 2002-Survey Says
(photos:White rhino,
Pink carpet,
Lake Nakuru Lodge)

Our morning began as we filled out yet another survey of satisfaction. We rated the service excellent with special kudos to Stephen, the headwaiter. He really went out of his way to be helpful and even offered to sneak us in to a Maasi show after the special bush dinner. Our meals were included in our package and we didn’t feel like paying an additional $35/person for a BBQ in the woods and a show. We never did go. We fell asleep as the music began. To show that we were discriminating, we rated the tea (yes, they have separate questions about tea and coffee) as fair. Kenyan tea isn’t known to be particularly good and they lived up to the reputation. We’re now only drinking herbal tea.

Our drive out of the park told the end of the drama whose beginning we saw last night. Someone did die. We don’t know who, but a hyena was on the clean-up committee. They do hunt on their own, but are also the garbage collectors of the wild. Jackson said they even eat the bones. He went into detail in his description of their feces and said that it comes out green, but turns to white when it dries because of the bone they eat. I wondered why we didn’t see any skeletons around. So that’s the circle of life. On the TV show South Park, they talked about the circle of poop. That’s what it comes down to.

I’ve seen kills on TV and certainly have read about them. They’re always described in glib terms about the “food chain,” “survival of the fittest,” and “natural selection.” I’ve now seen for myself and have learned from descriptions of the way it really is that nature is unkind, cruel, painful, and deals a slow and excruciating death. But some do have to die so that some can live. It’s been in fairly recent times that humans became concerned with making death pain free for those creatures we eat. It’s too bad that we’re not that concerned for other humans.

There was some comic relief in our departure as we watched a hippo on his way back to the water after a night of grazing. Jackson was careful not to position us between the blob of blubber on four legs and the water since they get testy if diverted from their mission. We dodged giraffe, wildebeest, and zebras in the road and salespeople tapping on our van windows when we stopped for security checks. The men, women, and children surrounded us, called enticing “come-ons” like, “ I sell you cheap, no money,” and tried to get a response from us. We’ve learned to stare straight ahead no matter what they say. They always ask questions about where we’re from as an opener, but if we would so much as answer one question there’s no getting rid of them.

Eating Bambi

We made it Nairobi after a 4 1/2 hour drive and what I thought was a joke turned out to be lunch. We were taken to the Carnivore Restaurant. It’s a very famous place in Nairobi known for its selection of game meat. Evidently hunters kill the game with special permits on private reserves. It’s cooked over an open grill and we were offered all we could eat of the lamb, pork, chicken, beef sausage, roast beef, impala, waterbuck, hippo, zebra, crocodile, and elephant. Each meat is brought to the table on a spear. The rules of the meal are that we had to lower a little flag on our table in surrender when we were full. We told them to only bring the lamb, chicken, and beef. Our waiter got curious and asked about our dietary limitations. I just said we only eat animals that chew their cud. He asked if we were Jewish. I guess they get a lot of Israelis here. He seemed pleased that we were following our religious laws. To say that this place was a waste for me is a gross understatement. I had pumpkin soup, bread, potato, and mocha ice cream. We couldn’t even eat the salads since none of the veggies was cooked.

We were thrilled to see that there was an Internet café there, but had a disconcerting experience. When we logged onto AOL using todaho and our password, we got into someone elses mailbox. The screen name was “etbouman.” This happened three times and we could have opened his mail if we wanted to. We changed to a different computer and were able to successfully log into our mailbox. We have no idea what happened, but it does make us wonder about the security of it all.

More Folkways

Jackson spent his time getting us a new spare tire and trying to track down the man who sold him the one that shredded. That gave me some time to catch up on writing to you all, but it meant he didn’t get any lunch. I gave him the rest of the rice cakes with peanut butter that he enjoyed the other day and he was a happy man. I asked him if he was raised in Nairobi or in his tribal area around Mt. Kenya. He said that Mt. Kenya was his home and he liked it better than the city. He began to extricate us from Nairobi and we got to see a good bit of the modern architecture in the downtown area. Although the roads this afternoon were all tarmac, they didn’t relent in continuing what I’ve begun to call our African massage. One of the road signs warned to beware of zebras crossing and another cautioned that the “road meanders ahead.” We would say “curves ahead.”

We meandered our way over luscious hills and into the Rift Valley. It was formed by a now extinct volcano and is the road to Rwanda. We had no intention of going that far, but we passed several International Red Cross road trains headed there. The International Red Cross is the organization that recognizes the Crescent equivalent of the Arab nations but doesn’t recognize Mogen David Adom (the Israeli Star of David equivalent). The American Red Cross has been fighting to get Israeli recognition with no success.

I asked Jackson if there were a lot of missionaries in Kenya now or if Africans were running the churches. He said that mostly Africans are in charge. He then clarified the reason why there are so many churches. We passed three small churches side by side and I couldn’t help but wonder. I thought the missionaries were successful but not that prolific. He said that the Kenyans organize five or so people and go to the mission headquarters in America for funds. What they’re really building is a house, but they put a cross up and call it a church. I guess the missionary movements have deep pockets.

Our guidebook mentions that Africans are very conservative dressers. They don’t like it when tourists look like slobs or wear skimpy clothing. Even though they’re poor and wear second hand clothing, Africans do make an effort to dress well. Their clothing may be mismatched by our fashion standards, but they’re always colorful and well covered. I noticed that some rural women cover their hair in scarves. It’s in the manner of the old Aunt Jemima figure and I always thought that style came from slave days in the U.S. When I think about it, the nature of African dress today must come from the influence of the missionaries. I remember the old National Geographic photos and they surely weren’t covered up in them.

Pink Carpet

Our destination was the Serova Lion Hill Lodge overlooking Lake Nakuru. The lake is a shallow soda lake surrounded by a forest of green barked gum trees. As we cleared the tree line and saw the water it looked as if there were pink smudges on it. The smudges began to resemble a carpet of glistening pink petals that had been strewn about and we knew we were looking at thousands of flamingos. We drew nearer and were able to get out of the van for a closer look. This meant walking through some pretty deep squishy mud. The closer we got, the more the flamingos sounded like a swarm of bees buzzing. They were busily feeding or flying. When they took off, the black undersides of their wings became visible. All they needed was a poodle skirt and they would have been dressed in style for the ‘50s and a guest appearance in Grease.

Even though it was getting dark, Jackson was determined to find lions. He’s a wonder and spotted the heads of two males lying in high grass. This park is known as a sanctuary for the few white and black rhinos left in the wild. It seemed as if those of the white variety were all over the place. I was eight feet from a female and her baby and could hear her chew.

It was a long day and we were happy to see the lodge. Our van had gotten so dirty over the last few days that I asked David to take a picture of it. The window next to him is too muddy to see out of. We’ll have to be sure to clean it tomorrow. The lodge is pretty basic, but there’s mosquito netting around the beds that makes me nervous. A man came down to tuck it in securely under the mattress and show us how to get in and make sure there are no gaps. Sleep tight.

Toby