hello, wild beasties

We woke up for a 7:00am breakfast with the sun rising over the golden hills. Today we would see the great migration that makes the Serengeti one of the most sought after safari destinations in the world.

Each year, millions of wildebeest journey up through Tanzania, cross the Masai Mara River to Kenya, and circle back down again. Scrawny, ugly, and awkward, the wildebeest seem embarrassingly mindless as they munch on grass and dawdle through dangerous territories (lion, cheetah, crocodile). But, as dumb and drab as these guys may seem, I found a soft spot for the wild beasties (as Matthew called them). They spend their lives following their instincts, like lots of us blindly end up doing: searching for greener pastures, chasing the crowds, or running after the ones we love. Their final destination is never in sight, but year after year, they make the journey...

After a few hours of driving north toward Kenya, the Serengeti I had imagined began to appear: hundreds of miles of open grassland rolled soflty into the horizon. Wildebeest and Acacia trees sprinkled the otherwise spotless plains, and the occasional zebra stood out in the crowd. (Wildebeest are lucky to travel with these more intelligent, watchful zebra.)

Soon enough, we were approaching the Mara River. It was teeming with wildlife. Dozens of elephants lined the river banks while hippos waded upstream, flicking their ears as they hid below the river's surface. The wildebeest planned their crossing: watching, walking toward the bank, spooking eachother, turning in circles.

We ate our boxed lunch inside the Land Cruisers, perched at the riverbank, waiting for this pack of a few hundred wildebeest to make the plunge. After much debate and confusion, they went for it. It was chaos, but it worked. Each wildebeest looked as though it got swept up by the momentum of the crowd and carried across by the current-- no chance for turning back! Luckily for these guys, the croc that swam through their crossing didn't seem to be too hungry. Well done, beasties... you did it!

hello, lion hunt

We were up, packed, and on the road by 8:30am... ready for a full day of safari. Today-- heading out from the center campsite of the Serengeti-- already felt totally different from the day before: the drive was slow, calm, and atmospheric. While we had been racing through dust and weaving through other Land Cruisers, we were now gentling cruising through a light, still morning-- driving deeper and deeper into the wilderness.

A family of giraffes munching on Acacias initiated our day of viewing. Our two Land Cruisers were the only vehicles on the road. As we drove through the yellow grass plains, a lone bull elephant displayed his massive self in the distance. We finally approached him, and he lumbered across the road in front of us, stopping intermittently to pull up some weeds for a snack.

After he had passed, we continued on to find a herd of Thompson gazelle split up by a stream. The gazelles on either side stood motionless and staring... staring in the direction of danger. Alright, time to find that danger-- water is always where the action is! Sure enough, one female lion stalks slowly along the edge of the stream while her hunting partner "rests" under a nearby tree, watching and waiting. Then, out from behind the tall grass emerges the king. The gang's all here: game on.

All three lions "rest" for a while in the shade, the two females under one tree and the male under another. You see, they look like they're sleeping-- just big lazy kitties. But, as our guide, Matthew, assures us, they are always watching.

Boom. With one swift movement, the male is up. His eyes are glued on something in the distance. One lioness mimics his movements, ready to assist. The king takes off, the lioness hanging back. We turn to see what he's after: a lone gazelle drinking from the stream. The gazelle senses him and leaps away from the water, turning its whole body in one jump. The chase ensues: lion versus gazelle. But the lion just can't keep up. Instead of cutting off and forcing the gazelle to run into the lioness (like he's supposed to do), his movements are slow and cumbersome. The gazelle slips away. He realizes he's lost it, and he slows to a defeated walk. He turns and shuffles back to the females, his head hanging in shame.

Shouldn't have sent a man to do a woman's job.

We were all on a high, even though we were slightly disappointed and stunned by the lion's poor performance. But the day continued to amaze us: A heard of a hundred zebras drank at a water hole, neighing and screaming and stomping at the sight of a croc. My dad spotted a lioness devouvering a wildebeast down in a gully. She even looked up from her kill, showing us her bloody face and the wildebeast's torn underbelly. A baboon troop partied across the road-- with baby riding on mommy's back-- and competed with a giraffe for full occupation of a roadside Acacia. We ate lunch in the grass, and I thought the day couldn't get any more perfect.

Then we got to Lobo, the northern campsite. Up in the hills and tucked below the backside of a beautiful baboon-covered rock koppi (little hill outcrop), Lobo looks over the surrounding plains... ahem... the epic Serengeti plains, that is. We took refreshing cold showers, and warmed back up with hot tea and popcorn. We had been the only campers there when we arrived, and by nightfall, we shared the site and a blazing campfire with a only few others.

We've got two nights at Lobo? Sounds good to me!

hello, serengeti

I love how you can feel the morning approach from inside your tent. The darkness slowly fades, the birds begin their busy work, and fellow campers rustle around in their sleeping bags. By 6:00am, you know it's time to unzip and step out into the morning to see the sun poke its head out and begin the day.

Waking up on the rim of the Ngorongoro crater... it's cold and misty, fresh and mystical. We can barely see the sun through the cloud cover, but soon the lake on the floor of the crater lights up and reflects a creamy, metallic orange. We walk laps around the quiet campsite, stretching our legs and keeping our muscles warm until the hot coffee and breakfast are ready. Breathe in the fresh air now: it's going to be a dusty day.

After breakfast, we pack up and hit the road. Driving back down through the jungle-like hills, we soon reach the dry dirt road to Serengeti National Park. We stop for a picnic lunch at Naabi Hill Gate and drive another three hours to the central campsite at Seronera. It has been a full day of "Tanzanian massage" (aka bouncing down a rugged road), and they even threw in a spray tan (aka dust bath). Washing my hands and face has never felt so good. Running water has never been such a pleasant surprise. (It took a few rounds of lather, rinse, repeat before the water finally ran clear.)

After freshening up, we sit on the roof of the Land Cruiser and watch an insane, red African sun glow behind the silhouettes of brambly trees until it slips behind the distant hills. We sip red wine and whiskey and welcome another hot, delicious meal-- spaghetti and meat sauce tonight, our favorite of the trip!

We're in bed before 9:00pm, exhausted, content, and looking forward to an early departure in the morning. The hyenas laugh and howl in the night, and a nearby camper welcomes a new dawn with Eric Clapton on the guitar. We're far, far away. But even out here we're reminded that some things truly have become universal.

hello, camping in the bush

Your first day out in the bush is always magical. No matter where you're coming from, the simple, primal freedom of a wildlife reserve in Africa will transport your spirit and your mind. There's this almost tangible calmness about it, while at the same time you can't help but feel exhilarated by the sheer beauty and complexity of nature.

Our first night of camping on safari proved a testament to this calmness... this surrending to the wild. After a stunning sunset and hearty, warm meal in the mess tent with about 80 other campers from all over the world, we settled into our tents for two. In contrast to my frequent racing mind and restless body, I felt completely at ease. I listened easily to the murmuring of the lively cooks cleaning up, the whispering of nearby campers, and rumbling of the token snorer who is always asleep before everyone else.

Then I felt a tug next to my tent. Not phased (there were so many people around), I continued to relax and to listen. Then another tug, followed by grinding. It continued. Tug. Grind, grind, grind. Tug. Grind, grind, grind. Hmm. My mind kicked into gear. It must be the Masai cattle, grazing around the campsite. Satisfied with my determination, I let the calm wash back over me and send me to sleep.

Some time later (maybe an hour), I got up to walk to the toilet. As I followed my dim flashlight through the tents, I felt a presence to my left. I shone my light in that direction and looked up: a pack of about ten zebras hung their heads to the grass, munching away. I didn't even freak out. They were zebras, I thought. Not cows. I continued to the toilet, back to my tent, and fell deep asleep among the campers, cooks, and zebras. We're camping in the bush, and it's wonderful.

hello, ngorongoro crater

Arusha, like Dar es Salaam, is a full of hustle and bustle and lots of honking. Like in Dar, the women wrap themselves in colorful textiles and the men seem to throw on whatever second hand clothes (mostly from the US) they can get their hands on. Minibuses, taxis, beaten up old cars, and Land Cruisers compete for road space with crowds of pedestrians and men pushing carts of produce or building supplies or newspapers. The shops are filled with home appliances and electronics circa 1990, but they can hardly compete with all the street vendors eager--read:desperate--to make a buck. Fruits and vegetables sit grouped in piles along the roadside dirt, like slabs of color on a easel. And somewhere tucked away behind the bustle sits The African Tulip hotel. I swore the whole time I was going to take pictures of this place, not just for memory's sake, but also so I could emulate the style in my own home one day. But, alas, I was too busy soaking up the taste of luxury that I could hardly function or set my mind to anything but entirely enjoying it. (Rumor has it Jane Goodall was there the same night we were!)

But, as gorgeous and comfortable as the Tulip was, we were all eager to start what we came to Tanzania to do: explore! We woke up early the morning our safari was set to begin and ate as much as we could at the gourmet breakfast spread. After meeting with our "correspondent" from Roy Safari (our safari and Kilimanjaro outfit) at 8:30am, we had ten minutes to pack up and pack out: our guides were ready for us. Half crazy with excitement and half overwhelmed by the rush, we ran up to our rooms to get what we needed and lock up what we didn't. Dressed from aviators to hiking boots in my safari gear, I felt ready to go. I mulled over all the things I would need to make myself as comfortable and happy as possible, and then I saw some bug repellant on the bathroom counter. This place really is a class act, I thought. I won't even have to use any of our overpriced repellant from REI today: better spray myself down.

As I completed my full-body spray and ran over to Gleb to start spraying him enthusiastically, he stopped me. "Whoa, whoa, Hannah, what is that?" he said in a fairly concerned and agitated tone. "Bug spray. We better load up," I assured him. His eyes went straight for the label, then he grabbed the can from my hand, "This stuff is RAID. It's toxic." Immediately, he stripped down and ran into the shower, "Come on, we need to wash this off. Get in the shower." Stunned and feeling stupid, I followed his orders. Apparently our door was still cracked open because Abby walked in looking confused, "What are you guys doing? We need to go."

Thank Allah Gleb didn't develop some bad reaction to the stuff, or I would've never lived it down. Note to self: read labels before use.

Leaving town, the scene changes pretty fast. Within ten minutes the roadside view transitions from chaos to calm, and we seem to transport back in time. Where there were shops and vendors, now we see nothing but monstrous baobab trees and termite mounds on a flat, dry landscape. The stream of pedestrians has vanished and only the odd outside villager walks the streets. Masai men follow their cattle, seemingly aimlessly, leaving a wave of dust behind them. We pass an army base camp, some camels, and we even spot our first giraffes.

After three hours, we're gaining elevation, climbing 800 meters to the rim of the Ngorongoro, entering a lush forest. I already feel so far away. This is awesome. Baboons welcome us at the gate, reminding us that things are about to get wild. Acacia trees line the tops of the hillsides, creating an incredible silhouette with their flat tops. And as soon as we descend down into the base of the crater, it's animal territory. We see a pack of zebras first, and insist that we stop for pictures and videos etc. (By the end of the day we were annoyed at waiting for them to get out of the road.) The crater is a sanctuary. By the end of day, the list stands strong: olive baboons, blue plain zebras, wildebeest, cape buffalo, Thompson gazelle, hartebeest, spotted haenas, black backed jackal, serval, hippo, wart hog, elephant, flamingos, and on and on with the birds!

Day one of safari: the world renown Ngorongoro crater. This is going to be a good week.

jambo, karibu

As we rode along on the Dar Express and each hour passed, we wondered whether the bus would ever take a real rest stop. After the first two hours, we had stopped for two minutes exactly for the passengers to run out to the roadside toilet facilities. (These facilities at times consisted of concrete structures with urinal-like holes in the ground, and at other times, consisted of bushy landscapes where men were simply instructed to go to the left, and women to the right.) And when the conductor said two minutes, she meant it. If the bus stopped at 10:15 and you weren't on the bus by 10:17, good luck finding another ride. I, of course, was the first to experience this tight scheduling as I stood squatting over the urinal and heard the bus roar. Panic. Shake dry. Pull up your pants and get out there! Phew. Big red bus with doors closed and engine on, but Dad's standing next to the conductor. I'm good. Alright, next time, no time for dawdling.

To our pleasant surprise, the tight schedule included a 20 minute lunch stop midway through the journey at a specially designated roadside food area. There were fruit and nut stands, a bar, and various hot food stations to choose from. I browsed the samosas and hamburgers, passed the crazy meat chopping guy, and decided that if I had to get something stodgy... eggs and fries were my safest bet. The guys, on the other hand, went straight for the meat. "Check this out! Steak and fries for less than three bucks!" My dad was stoked. "Four orders, please," he said, holding up four fingers to complement his request.

As the guys waited for their hearty lunch, crowded around the hot grill and resident butcher, they couldn't quite figure out exactly what type of steak this butcher was butchering. "What's this meat?" my dad asked. "Caribou," the man responded with a smile. Local caribou, we thought, how cool! Sorry In-N-Out, but this is what you call real animal style fries!

The following day we began our safari with our two local guides, Matthew and Imanuel. As we chatted with them and began to learn some Swahili, we realized that "karibu" was a very commonly used word. In addition to using the word to say "you are welcome" in response to thanks, Tanzanians also use it say "welcome" to this place or "feel free." Upon this realization, Matt and I looked at each other knowingly: those weren't caribou fries at the lunch stop. The man probably didn't even speak English and was just being polite. This is funny. But wait, what kind of meat was that, then? It didn't really taste like beef. Maybe goat, we decided. Oh well, didn't stop us from getting our mystery "karibu fries" on the ride back. After all... the locals welcomed us to eat them :)

Karibu (welcome to) Tanzania: animal style fries and a Kilimanjaro beer!

Yum!

jambo, dar es salaam

Let's go ahead and rewind three weeks. First of all, I want to apologize for being so rude and not introducing the Tanzania crew. A solid ten of us stuck together through Chapters 1-3, Serengeti to Kili to Zanzibar: the five Malans (Justy, Sue, Matt, Hannah, and Abby), Gleb (the one and only), and the four Dovals (John, Marilyn, Tom, and Cal).

If you've ever travelled with your family, you know that as the numbers increase, so do the complications, the confusions, and (especially in Africa) the waiting around. What you also might have found, though, is that your people make the sitting around, the stories, and the slip-ups that much better. My mom was joking the other night that we wish we could have recorded some of the ridiculous one-liners from the trip. You can imagine, as circumstances get more intense and the air a little thinner, things can get pretty funny. Or at least funny in retrospect. I thought Kylie talked a lot of potty talk, and then I climbed a mountain with nine people: "How are the toilets in this camp?" John asks Abby with a look of desperation in his eyes. (Toilets, of course, meaning a rickety cubicle outhouse complete with nothing but a cutout long drop) "Alright if you hold your breath. But the floor boards are pretty loose, so be careful," Abby responds casually.

Anyway, here's the crew, minus Gleb (but you know him already, anyway), looking a bit confused in Dubai:

Behind me, from left to right, we've got Justy, John (barely visible), Marilyn, Abby, Sue, Tom, Matt, and Cal.

And if we weren't awake in Dubai, Dar es Salaam, our touchdown point in Tanzania, certaintly slapped us in the face with a bit of life. The city, like the jam-packed city busses, is colorful and chaotic. The streets are swarming with honking vehicles and lined with people-- everyone just trying to get going and get by. Driving through the main streets, we see the classic images of women sitting at half standing fruit stands or roasting bananas and corn over some open coals. Other locals are trying some more "inventive" approaches, weaving through the traffic with baskets of cell phone SIM cars, cold drinks, miscellaneous clothing items... We even saw one guy with a fully equipped aquarium on his head, complete with water and fish. That was a first.

It's official: we made it to Tanzania

Dar es Salaam

Abby gets settled in at Jambo Inn

Bus station to catch the "Dar Express" to Arusha

On the 11 hour bus ride from Dar to Arusha, we drove north up the eastern side of the country. Front point to point (650km), villages were sprinkled all along the rugged two lane road. Bricks, sticks, mud, cardboard: whatever could hold the huts together was used. Women carried water on their heads or worked in fields or played with children in the dirt. The men mostly sat around chatting in groups, from what I could tell. I spent all 11 hours with my eyes glued to the window, hoping Gleb would stay asleep long enough so he wouldn't want to switch seats. I studied each hut, shop, and person we passed, realizing this was everyday life in Tanzania, and wondering what the future here might hold.

Dar, right center, to Arusha, right 1/4 down from top. Note the locations, also, of Kilimanjaro and Serengeti. Arusha is the major jumping off point for both these attractions.

I wonder how far she carried that water

Common village center scene

Rich red mud flats and homes

Masai men. Masai are the sort of "last standing" tribe in Tanzania. They can be identified by their red garb and most usually live in very rural areas where they live independently of the rest of society and herd cattle and goats. They're the guys who drink cow blood mixed with milk and stuff like that.

Like mama like daughter