Sightings Galore

April 25, 2002-So Many To See
(photos:blue balled monkey,
termite mound,
croc dining,
giraffes,
cheetahs hunting)


We had a very successful safari this afternoon. We left the lodge at 4 PM and Jackson was our guide. All safari schedules are the same. There are the 6:30 AM ones and the 4 PM ones. That gives maximum chance of game sightings. Our van had a pop-up roof so we were able to stand up and see unencumbered by windows while being shielded from the sun and protected from the animals.

Jackson proved to be a very enthusiastic and knowledgeable guide. We’re getting used to his accent and are able to understand most of what he says now. We saw an interesting creature at our lodge even before we went out on safari. It was what we call a blue-balled monkey. I kid you not. It was a male and its sex organs were bright blue. We have pictures to prove it. Our first sighting on safari was of impalas and a baboon. We came upon several families of female elephants and babies that were traveling together. The babies came in all sizes and were adorable. The little ones were kept in between the mamas and the aunties. One four-year old male turned towards our van, flapped his ears, and bellowed in a typical elephant challenge posture. He was more cute that ominous, but I wouldn’t want to be in a face-off with him in a few years. We got within a few feet of them. Jackson told us that humans share genes with elephants. elephants live about sixty years and gestation is twenty-two months. Ouch! He told us how they carry the little ones across the river supported with their tusks and bury their dead with branches and rocks. It was such a thrill to see them where they ought to be doing what elephants do. We headed off in a different direction and were cruising around some shrubs when David spotted a leopard (that was an accidental pun) crossing behind us. It was in no hurry and hung around as several other vanloads of tourists snapped photos before it melted away into the bush.
I fell in love with the delicate little dick dicks, the smallest of the antelopes. I decided that the park wouldn’t miss just one and it would fit neatly into my suitcase. We were lucky enough to see a zebra, an Oryx that posed for the camera, and a male kori bustard in full display with white feathers sticking up from his rump like a beacon. We glimpsed a secretary bird striding along with his distinctive halting gait and two crocodiles lurking in the water. We got back to the lodge at 6:30 PM in time to sit on the patio by the river, nibble snacks, and enjoy some drinks.

We waited for the crocodile to come out of the water to get the bait that the hotel leaves for it. It appeared on schedule and was within spitting distance on the other side of a low wall. That wall was all that separated the lodge from whatever lived in and around the river. Two house cats stalked the croc and hoped to snatch some of his food, but they gave up. I understand they were successful last night. We were treated to a rare appearance by a hippo that seemed to be a phantom at first. It was hard to find him on the other side of the river in the dusk, but when what I thought was a rock started moving and splashing upstream, I knew I’d found the hippo. We watched the sun set and the full moon rise as a cheetah took the bait on the platform across the water. These are the only times bait is used to lure the animals out for viewing.

Dinner was served outdoors and we took in the fresh smell of clean air. A curious genet cat with a raccoon tail closely watched us . It was undisturbed by all the people who took flash photos and seemed to enjoy watching us as much as we enjoyed watching it.

April 27, 2002- So Little Time

Notice a gap? I didn’t get to write yesterday. Even though it was Wendy’s birthday and I wanted to mention her in the email, fate was against me. As I was getting ready to settle in at the keyboard, the lights went out. It was 11 AM. We figured it was just a temporary blackout, so we weren’t concerned. When the lights didn’t come on after twenty minutes, David called the desk. They said that since we were the only guests in the hotel, they thought they could turn off the generator for two hours and would that be all right. Tourism is that pathetic now. I’ve heard that some blame the U.S. for bringing 9/11 on themselves. In any case, we took a two-hour nap.

Our bed has mosquito netting around it and I found it quite cozy. The netting isn’t for show, although we weren’t bothered in the room. This is the first place where we really have to bathe in OFF. I don’t think the netting will keep our resident gecko out of our bed but he seems to prefer the space behind the toilet tank.

In the last two days we’ve had great success on our game drives. Jackson diligently searches and stays out past the other drivers in hope we’ll see something special, and we have. There are no night drives because of the security risk. They’re having problems with poachers coming over the border from Ethiopia and don’t want to take the chance.

On our morning drive we hit pay dirt immediately. We stalked a leopard that was stalking some prey. It ended up with the leopard losing the prey and us losing the leopard only to find him in the tree above us. It sounded like he was trying to cough up a hairball, but the guide assured us that wasn’t the case. The cat graciously stretched and posed for us. Leopards travel alone unless it is mating season.

We saw several herds of impala, oryx, Grants gazelles, and gerenuk, a rare antelope with a disproportionately long neck. We saw and heard a bachelor impala that had been kicked out of the herd sound a warning when the leopard was in the area. I thought that was very generous of him since he was on the outs with the other impalas. We watched young male impalas at play. Their horns clunked with dull thuds as they practiced butting heads in preparation for taking over the females of the herd. We hit a dry spell at one point and ended up taking pictures of trees. Actually, it was an unusual palm tree and the only palm that has branches.

Just as we spotted a large monitor lizard on a termite mound, we saw large movements off to the side. It was a huge herd of elephants. They came in all sizes from teeny to the huge aunties. It was interesting to see how the adults positioned themselves so they were either between us and the babies or the babies were between two adults. I just felt like walking up to explain that we meant no harm. The frosting on the morning drive was the giraffes we met on our way back to the lodge. David has a thing for giraffes. I personally find it very flattering that he’s subconsciously attracted to tall spotted animals. We scooted into our compound that has an electric fence on three sides and a river on the fourth, and got ready to dodge monkeys and a baboon on the way to lunch.

After our hair-raising ride to the lodge yesterday, I was curious about one thing. How do they get eggs delivered for kitchen use? A waiter explained it to me. They put the eggs in five layers of cartons to cushion them. They’re trucked in and they only lose about five eggs/shipment. In an emergency, they can fly them in on one of the two daily flights. That brought to mind the prospect of the trip out tomorrow and the pipe dream of going by air. We later found out that it costs $115/person one way.

Lion Quest

The afternoon was devoted to Lion Quest. It’s amazing how many lion sightings turn out to be rocks and termite mounds when viewed through binoculars. We failed to find a lion, but came upon something even more rare. We saw two cheetahs organizing a hunt. They were standing about 100 or more yards away from a herd of impala. The cheetah in the lead was frozen in concentration and didn’t so much as flinch when we pulled next to them. He was a living definition of complete, utter, and total focus. His riveting, unwavering gaze was like the sophisticated radar on a fighter plane. It had fixed and locked on the target. There was no shaking it loose. The cheetah in the rear was aware of us, but unconcerned. It was obvious who was the head cat. We thought they were hoping the impala would come closer, but then the movement began. Suddenly, the second cheetah was with the program as they moved in slow motion to a rhythm only heard by them. They thrust out their heads, extended their necks, and lowered their bodies to the ground. They were two sleek, graceful, speckled killing machines moving on their silent cat feet in a well-rehearsed dance of death. Slowly, they split up in an attempt to cover the herd on two fronts. The impala sentries were vigilant and encircled the grazing herd. They never lowered their heads. Although the cheetahs were definitely downwind, they stayed frozen and peered from behind tall grass and bushes as they waited for the sentries to falter. At this point, Jackson decided to turn the van around and position it for the chase. We were within three feet of the cats and they didn’t care. They were an exercise in patience as we began to squirm and urge them on in stage whispers. David was hoping to see a kill. I was hoping to see a chase, but was rooting for the impalas. There was a tensing of muscles, a sinking of hindquarters, and they were off. Impatience had prevailed and the cheetahs never even got up to cruising speed before the sentry bleated the warning and the impalas were gone. The guide said the cheetahs could have easily outrun them, but may not have wanted to use the energy necessary to do that. There was no kill. There was no high-speed chase. No one had to die today. There were at least two winners. We were privileged to see something that one park worker said he’d only seen on the Discovery Channel, and the impalas got to live.
Diners and Dinners

We turned towards the lodge as the sky darkened ominously and sooty gray storm clouds gathered. We took a picture of the sun setting over the river as we crossed the bridge. We waited while a baboon family drank from a large puddle in the middle of the road and cooed over the new babies clinging to their mothers’ undersides. We got back to the patio at the pool in time for what I called “croctail” hour. Tonight there were three of them to keep us on our toes. We were so intent on the crocs that we almost missed the hippo that came ashore on our side of the river. The waiter told us that if he came too close we should move and that he was faster and more dangerous than the crocs. Fortunately for us, he meandered down the beach in search of more succulent tourists.

After dinner we went to a slide show about the Samburu tribe and learned that they’re a split-off of the Masai. And they say that two Jews cannot agree and need three synagogues. The Samburu are nomads and count their wealth in cows. Since they only eat goats and not cows, they use every part of the cow they can without killing them. They bleed them each morning and drink the blood mixed with milk for breakfast. We were told that it’s like a strawberry shake. I’ll never find out. The blood is digested very slowly and drinking it keeps them from getting hungry when they’re out with grazing cattle all day. I guess they didn’t think of brown bagging it. They use the dung to build houses and they wash their hands in the urine. This last bit of information got me thinking about the probability that the kitchen help might be Samburu. Boys are circumcised at about fourteen years old and become warriors. They still live the tribal life and they defend against cattle raids by other tribes. Girls marry at age thirteen. Polygamy is the rule.

Nairobi Bound

Our entertainment this morning at breakfast was two mongoose and baby monkeys negotiating the slats and slants of the pool lounge chairs. We had passengers riding with us as we left the lodge and headed for Nairobi. A mother and very quiet three-month-old baby boy needed a lift as well as one of the park guards. As we careened away on our return match with the Kenya road department, we passed the largest group of elephants we’d yet seen. It was then that I realized that elephants are to Kenyans as deer are to us. We saw ostrich for the first time and they too were immune to our passing. This is so much better than the zoo. Even though we’re usually searching for a needle in a haystack, we’re rewarded with healthy animals behaving in healthy ways. There are none of the neurosis or obsessive behaviors that are so heartbreakingly common in zoos.

We took a short detour to pick up a bag a tourist had forgotten at the Mt. Kenya Safari Club and got a treat. The manager gave us something to drink and we were able to use email for the first time in three days. He also presented us with a coffee table book on the Club including photos of some of the stars who frequented it. William Holden and Bob Hope were regulars. I think its glory days are in the past but it’s a magnificent place. The road leading to the Club is lined with expensive homes. I wanted to know who owned them and finally figured out how to put it delicately. I asked if they were British owned. They were. All the large farms are white owned as well as most of the large businesses. Blacks may run them, but owners are white. Even Kenya Air is white owned. Kenya is still a British colony.

Today is Saturday and the markets in the towns we drove through were humming. Preachers were out in force and seemed to be attracting a following. They don’t have unleaded gasoline here nor do they have catalytic converters, so we choked and wheezed our way into Nairobi. We worked out a system where the driver, David, and I all closed our windows as we approached a vehicle that was spewing black exhaust and then opened them when it was all clear. I started using my denim shirt as a mask and it did help filter out most of the crud. The Nairobi Serena Hotel came into view. It would be our home for the night. We leave for another game park at 7 AM.

Countdown

We called our kids as soon as soon as we checked in. Civilization at last at $6/minute. I’ve been overwhelmed with our absence from home. I feel as if I’m just not where I’m needed. All our children and grandchildren (I count “the babe”) have gone through exciting and eventful times while we’ve been gone and I’m feeling an emptiness in not being there with them. I’m trying to live in the present and enjoy the moments here as they come. They are precious and we’re privileged to be able to do it. But underneath it all, I sense that I’m running a gauntlet. We have sixteen days to go and two more countries. I’m in a major countdown.

Toby