Natural and Other Dangers

May 2, 2002-Too Close For Comfort
(photos:Jackson & me at border,
Guard, AK-47, & me,
Hippo family)

The birds woke us this morning. It was a good thing since the alarm didn’t. We’re a thin piece of canvas away from nature and it’s apparent from the sounds. I would have preferred something more substantial last night between the outside world and us. Another chorus of birds was lulling David to sleep after lunch when one raucous renegade sounded off in a different key. We started laughing and that was the end of his nap for a while. We came back after dinner to find a large and mean looking spider on our front flap. One benefit of living in a tent is we can never lose the key. All we have is a zip lock.

Before we left this morning, I told the people at the reception desk where we were headed and when we’d be back. I also took bread and jam from breakfast this morning. If we were going to get stuck I wanted to be ready. Truth be told, I also crammed some toilet paper into my fanny pack. I had little to worry about since several vans headed in the same direction as we did and Jackson managed not to drown us in any of the pond size puddles we navigated nor did he get mired in the mud. I’m happy to report that the Hong Kong brothers didn’t get stuck either. I spotted my first animal all on my own today. I thought it was a fox, but it turned out to be a jackal. They travel in pairs and sure enough the mate showed up. It was not that great a sighting but it was my first solo. We also saw hartebeest and a pair of male lions as we headed towards the border of Tanzania and the Serengeti Plain.

Border Crossings

It took us 2 ½ hours over you-know-what kind of roads to get to the border marker between Kenya and Tanzania and two hours to get back. Jackson drove in a circle around the marker and we got out to take photos. The Serengeti is empty now. In June it will be overrun by millions of wildebeest. They’ll migrate from Tanzania into Kenya and in October, they’ll return to Tanzania. Our destination was the place along the Mara River where they cross. It’s a known habitat for hippos. We were met at the river by a heavily armed (AK-47) guard in camouflage gear and wearing military issue boots. He was to be our guide on the walking tour in search of hippos and crocodiles. It was the first time we’d been permitted to step outside the van when it was not in the compound and I was a bit nervous. The guard’s artillery calmed me a little, but I did wonder how long it had been since he’d practiced. I literally followed in his footsteps as we made our way through mud and tall grass. We were now in the lions’ playground and walking through snake grass. I was reassured that lions sleep during the day, but I had no such confidence in the daytime habits of snakes.

The crocodiles didn’t intrigue me, but we were very lucky in our hippo search. They’re usually in the water during the day and hard to see. We found several families on shore and one enormous year old baby settling down for a nap. Papa was standing (swimming) guard duty in the river during siesta time. Evidently, they’re monogamous. There were 15-20 hippos in one place as well as several other groups along the way. We spotted several sets of ears bobbing in and out of the water and it was obvious when one of the adults either submerged or surfaced. There was a giant sucking sound and a loud snort. I can’t exactly say that the hippos were romping or frolicking since they’re so cumbersome those words do not apply. They did look as if they were “making fun,” as Jackson would say and seemed very tranquil.

All we seem to do is sleep, eat, and ride in a van. It was good to get out and stretch our legs. When we returned to the van, the pop-top was closed. There’d been hostile baboons in the area. We’ve learned to take it all in stride.

Last Chance

When we came back from our afternoon drive I decided to take a shower. I had plenty of hot water but not enough cold. I did an original little dance as I hopped in and out of the water trying to rinse and not get burned. Neither one of us showered last night. It’s been cool and I’ve been chilled in the tent. I also dread staying in the bathroom longer than I have to. Last night I slept in David’s socks and my bathrobe. Tonight I asked for another blanket. At least in this place we have one bed so I can get some body heat. The rule in the lodges seemed to be twin beds.

Our last game drive was extremely rewarding. I think I’m becoming inured to the violence out there. It’s similar to what the critics of TV violence claim. When exposed to it enough you get used to it. We came upon two cheetahs eating an impala they’d killed. They were sharing nicely and every once in a while they shifted the carcass. At one point a long leg bone and hoof was sticking up. I’m sure the impala was a relative of the nearby herd. The cheetahs were in tall grass and would pop up from time to time to check the crowd. Maybe they were counting the house to see if their performance was a success. At one point there were twenty vans surrounding them. That didn’t include those vans that had come and gone already. These elegant cats are distinguishable from leopards by a black teardrop shape under their eyes. We couldn’t get too close, as there are rules about where the vans can go, but the binoculars brought them into our laps.

David and I both made our own separate sightings of hyenas on the hunt. We tried to follow his, and were roaring along until we hit a really sloshy area. We began to slip and slide and ended up doing a 360 and heading back to find another route. We let that one go and found another cluster of vans gathered around a pride of lions. These were different ones than we’d seen yesterday. There were two females, a male, and six cubs of about two months old. The cubs were the epitome of cute. They were full of life and squirmed around making bath time hard for their mom. The dad just lolled around on his back and stretched until one of the cubs decided to play pounce with his nose. It was the picture of iconic happy family at rest.

The grass is lush and green and all the animals are walking around with full bellies. There are gorgeous scenes everywhere we turn and the light paints fantastical shadows as it plays along the hills. The animals are all photogenic and there’s every opportunity to catch them in magnificent poses. Then we realized that our camera is terminally ill. We bought it eight months ago in Australia and the motor seems to be dying. The zoom only reluctantly zooms and we’re managing to pull it out manually. We’ll check at the duty free shops when we leave, but I have a feeling there are no deals there. We’ll also look in Cape Town, but I think we can limp along with this one. We only have ten days to go.
May 3, 2002-Mud Run

The Hong Kong brothers did get stuck in the mud briefly yesterday afternoon. I don’t know what’s with their driver. They’ll leave half our earlier for the airport than we this morning so we can help them if they need it. We all watched at dinner as the mystery of the silverware once again occurred. The waiters come to the tables from time to time and rearrange the flatware. They remove some and move some into new positions on the table. I have not figured it out. I think they take away that which they suspect will not be used. This bothers me, because they remove it very carefully and only touch the handles. I suspect that it’s not washed before it’s re-set. Last night David had all his flatware taken away while he was eating dessert. Mine was just shifted to another position. Go figure.

We enjoyed some Amarula after dinner. It’s made from an African plant and tastes like Bailey’s Irish Crème. We were waiting in the bar by the fireplace for the Masi Warrior Dance Show. The dancers burst in wearing full regalia and marched through to an open lawn where the show took place. The dancing consisted of walking in a line or a circle using a strutting step that alternated with a skip and a lope with the neck thrust forward as a bird would. When they stopped, they began to do their famous leaps. They took turns showing their skill one at a time sort of like break dancing. Some of the guests were invited to join in. Frankly, I wasn’t impressed with the height of the jumps. Michael Jordan has done better. The chants were low guttural atonal sounds interspersed with “yips.” I’m not disparaging them when I say “yips” since that’s what was actually said. There was no explanation of the performance, but I overheard one of the workers telling a guest there were three dances: one for a wedding, one for circumcision, and one for dying. It was all very authentic I’m sure, but it was done with a lack of enthusiasm. The performers were only too happy to put n their fifteen minutes and run.

We will head for the airport this morning and confront our nemesis, the unsurfaced roads of Kenyan parks. Jackson sounded bitter when he said they collect $27/person as an entry fee and he has no idea where the money goes. It certainly isn’t used to grade the roads. The brochures for these kinds of safaris always warn away people who have back or neck problems but they don’t and cannot capture the extent or severity of the conditions. I’m amazed that neither one of us got a muscle pull or strain. We figured we’ve spent thirty-seven taxing and rigorous hours traveling from place to place in the van. That doesn’t include the twenty-two hours we spent on game drives. The reward of seeing the game is phenomenal but individuals have to weigh it against the effort.

I’m glad we came, but I’m ready to be someplace where things aren’t damp all the time. I’m also over the condescending, obsequious, fawning, and servile behavior of the workers here. I’m ready for some casual, familiar, and perfunctory American service.

Toby