From the Roof of Africa to the Exhaust Fumes of Nairobi

July 10
We woke up to see the sunrise and to have tasty mango pancakes that Jacob made for us. After this yummy breakfast, Monica went into Gede while I ran some necessary errands. We got a taxi with Branson and headed to Villa Veronica to make a reservation for us, then to the cobbler near Turtle Bay to have sandals and belts made. Finally, we caught a matatu to Gede just in time to meet Monica at Gede Primary School. On the way, I talked with a guy who explained Taarab music to me. We met Monica and toured the school and saw the students with whom Karen and Nancy had worked for the past week. Despite that the school seemed well-run and they did a lot with what they had, it is always depressing to visit such places. It was getting late, but before we could leave to catch lunch, it started pouring rain. We were finally able to leave (well, at least Monica, Jim, and I, which prompted Karen and Nancy to leave as well). We caught lunch at Mama Alice’s café where we all shared chapatti na maharagwe. We all went into Gede Ruins and went to the corner, where they were able to meet our monkeys. Nancy got to meet Nancy (the monkey)! It was fun!

We helped the Earth Watch volunteers all afternoon while the rest took a tour of the ruins. We left with them around 5:30 and after a not-so-quick stop at Unis’ shop we left Gede to meet Salim and Patrick for dinner at Plot 15. We were a bit late, but Monica had gone ahead to meet Patrick and Salim when they arrived. Dinner was excellent (chapatti, samaki, etc.), and we were even able to get Jacob to join us! He said it was the first time any guests had ever asked him to join them at the table. After dinner, Monica and I escorted Salim and Patrick back to Turtle Bay – a mistake. No matatu came, and the taxi drivers saw us with Salim and Patrick and knew it was gouge the wazungu time! Oh, well, they ended up with a ride. We walked back to Plot 15, vented about this for a bit, and then went to bed.

July 9
It was an early morning for Monica and me. We dressed and walked down the beach to Turtle Bay with Karen to grab some mandazi and catch a matatu to Gede. We brought some orange/passion juice with us and chatted while we walked. It turned out to be a good monkey-watching morning. Because it was Sunday, no one was around, and we got to the office before we saw anyone. Steffen was VERY happy to see us (he even gave me a big hug). Yesterday, Laura had told us that it took them 2 hours to find Maurice’s group and then they lost them again within an hour even though Steffen was with them to help track the group. We went with Laura and 3 Earth Watch volunteers (Andrew, Allison, and Barbara), and I spotted our group at the outer wall headed north; it took all of 5 minutes :). We started trying to get the volunteers and monkeys used to each other, but Maurice and company wanted to keep a healthy distance from the newcomers. It also did not help that the Earth Watch volunteers did not know how to move through the forest and sounded like a herd of elephants barreling through nor that our monkeys were moving fast to kick another group out of their territory (and then back to the mashamba to raid the mahindi again). The corn lady, a poor, 80+ year old woman whose job was to sit all day in the hot sun warding off the encroaching monkeys, even stood at the fence yelling in English “I know you’re out there; why do you let the monkeys steal our corn?”. On reflection, it’s like a group of people with clipboards writing down the behavior of a gang of teenagers bashing in your car with baseball bats while you watched; the corn is their livelihood, and we feel a bit bad just recording the monkeys’ behavior as they steal a family’s livelihood. The farmers have even started to imitate our hoots while we followed the monkeys back north again. Andrew and Allison seemed to get the hang of watching the monkeys and started to take scan sample data later in the morning. By 10, we had even gotten 3 fecal samples! Despite our success, it is not the same when there are so many people in the forest; It destroys the peace and tranquility that we were used to and enjoyed.

We went to lunch and met up with Nancy, Jim, and Karen at the Three Spears in Gede. We walked up to the Mobil Mart Café for a small feast of hamburgers, chips, meat pies, and ugali. It was off to Malindi via matatu after lunch and then to Seaview Resort via tuk tuk. Jim got to experience all of the forms of Kenyan transportation today: bodas, matatu, and tuk tuk! At Seaview, the horses were available, and after 30 minutes the horses were tacked and ready to go. Monica got her favorite horse, Minimax; Nancy had Rafiki; Thomas had Arianna; Jim had Eco; Karen had Butterscotch; and I had Pippo, my favorite. We rode along the beach and wove through a grove a cassarina trees before walking back out to the beach over a series of sand dunes. We even saw a flock of flamingos standing at the edge of tide. We watched them sweep off the beach and out low across the water, as we approached them. It was time to return, and the weather from where we had come from was looking ugly. We left single file at a fast trot. All of a sudden we heard a shriek and saw Nancy falling to the ground. She was all right but had been bucked off by Rafiki! Nancy and I switched horses, and we did not bother to adjust the stirrups on Rafiki. He knew it, and kept trying to move fast and rip the reins from my hands. I stopped and Thomas helped to readjust. It worked, and Rafiki calmed down. What a friend (or Rafiki in Swahili) he was! Monica galloped ahead and rode with Jim and Thomas while I walked with Nancy and Karen. As we entered the path back to Seaview, I saw an African couple embracing in the bushes. Karen had seen them too, and later we agreed that they were in shagging position. We had a great time!

Malindi is pretty dead on Sundays, but we were able to get some ice cream at a little store near Uhuru Park. We quickly looked at a curio shop that a guy opened for us then caught a matatu to Watamu. Jacob again presented us with an incredible meal: huge 8” prawns! After dinner, Laura, Leslie, and Susan dropped in for some ridiculously alcoholic dawas (my bad). Susan got schloshed quickly, and everyone else was on their way. We posed for photos with our Maasai weapons, and Monica showed off trip photos. Close to midnight everyone left to return to Mwamba.

July 8
The morning began at 6:30. We got ready and split up to run errands. Monica went to the internet café while I went to breakfast. On the way, I ran into Francis, who was helping another group of British students. He mentioned that we had a transfer to the airport for us that Karen and Nancy had purchased for us. How nice to mention it to us … we would never have known if I had not happened to run into him! I grabbed Jim, who ran down to catch Francis to ask him some questions before he escaped. He’s slippery. Jim and I met for breakfast; Monica came a bit later. Jim and I went to the bookstore and Nakumatt before returning to the hotel to bring our bags down. In the mean time, Monica went to buy Larium, which turned out to be much cheaper at the chemist across the street from the Oakwood Hotel than it was in the states (40KSh per tablet!). We wish we had known; we would have bought ALL of our Larium there! Monica had also texted Ben who was going to meet us at our hotel on his way to the Naivasha matatu, but was running late. Unfortunately, even though he was almost to our hotel, our driver was waiting for us. Thus, it was off to the airport, Ben or no Ben; Monica had also picked up ice cream at Nakumatt that we enjoyed thoroughly as we drove to the airport.

We went through x-ray machine #1 at the door to the terminal and checked in luggage at the counter. Monica wanted to gate check our gift bag. Right before we went through x-ray machine #2, I realized we were about to attempt to carry a veritable arms cache for an African tribe in our carry-on luggage (a Maasai sword, 2 spears, a dagger, 2 rungus, and a Swiss army knife). That probably would not be ok with the airport security, so we went back to check it in – no problem!

We watched TV in the waiting room. At first it was Christian African music videos, but then it changed over to a cheesy show called “Cornerstone Café” (aka “Cheesystone Café”). It was very amusing and was best described as a Sesame Street for foreign adults. The show is apparently produced by Voice of America and consists of a cast of characters in a café with short educational vignettes (e.g., poorly animated Einstein teaching American English lessons, such as usage of passive voice; a set of interviews with recent immigrants about America’s many, many virtues; and an informational piece about how you can get advanced care in hospitals but you must have health insurance). The actors smile continuously and seem to be the epitome of relaxed contentment. Even when the older café owner has to go into the hospital for heart surgery and has to fill out his insurance forms, he was very happy and laughed off how he had no idea how to fill out the billions of forms they had handed him. What great propaganda :)!

We boarded the flight to Malindi on time and spent the flight reading “Msafari” (“Traveler” in English) magazine, from which we took the recipe for “Dawa” cocktails, a mixture of sugar, honey, vodka, and crushed ice. We landed only an hour later (by bus, this would have required an 8-hour then 2-1/2 hour ride probably spread over 2 days!). We grudgingly took a 1500KSh taxi from the airport to Plot 15 in Watamu. What a place to finally settle in! Because Mida Manor had had no power, we were able to stay in the guest house at Plot 15 for the same price, and it was beautiful (and, more importantly, right on the beach! And even MORE importantly than that, had a washing machine!!!!). We surprised Karen and Nancy and traded stories about our adventures since we split at the Tanzanian border. We headed to the beach to play in the heavy surf of the Indian Ocean. We returned, all showered and got organized, then called Branson to take us to the supermarket. A quick negotiation to 400KSh and we were on our way (we somehow piled all 5 of us into his taxi)! Who did we run into? Monkey watchers! We had a quick chat with Laura and Leslie then picked up some beer, wine, vodka, and ingredients for pancakes :), very healthy! We returned, and soon Marion and Rhea arrived; they were two Dutch woman with whom Karen and Nancy had been working at Kupenda and who had also been staying at Mwamba. Jacob presented us with a wonderful feast of snapper in a coconut curry sauce (samaki wa nazi), rice, and vegetables. They were very fun to talk with! Eventually, the talk turned too adult (house plans), and me and Monica fell asleep on the couch.

July 7
It was wonderful to sleep in a bed again, and despite a pack of baying dogs, we slept very soundly. We each groaned at the stiffness in our muscles, but by morning that was mostly gone. We got up and ate breakfast; Monica had been REALLY craving pancakes, but no luck. We met with Jim and the doctors came. After breakfast, we decided to go into Moshi by foot to do some internet stuff. The guide book showed that Moshi was less than a kilometer from the Key’s Hotel, so we thought it would be fun. It turned out to be a long walk with the familiar stares from the locals. We were confused why it was taking so long, and we asked twice which way to Moshi, which confirmed that we were going the correct direction. An hour later we arrived at the post office … definitely not the 400m we had expected. The post office internet was closed, though, the sign outside indicated it should have opened 1-1/2 hours before we had arrived). A man at the post office directed us ¼ way around the roundabout to a café. Again, no luck, but another man directed us a few doors down. Success! We checked email and shifted photos to our Nano to give us a second backup of our priceless photos and left. This time we decided to go by taxi. The taxi took us to the Key’s Hotel, and we realized our mistake … the guide book had said Moshi was 400m from the Key’s Hotel NOT the Key’s Hotel Annex. We had the taxi turn around and deliver us to the Key’s Hotel Annex. We tipped him well, which made for a very happy cab driver :). We arrived at 10:15, and our 11am shuttle was already there, loaded, and waiting on us to leave. We quickly grabbed our things, settled our hotel bill, and boarded the bus. We waved goodbye to the doctors, as we pulled out of the hotel.

At a stop in Moshi we bought a Swahili newspaper, and Jim got a batik at Arusha, as we changed buses for the trip to Nairobi. The drive was uneventful as was the border crossing – just a form at either side to fill out and not even an extra visa fee on the Kenyan side. On the Kenyan side, we were again accosted by hawkers; we saw all of the people from a week ago and they recognized us (we definitely hung out there too long). As we were about to leave, Monica saw Elizabeth, the nice Maasai woman who she had talked with the week before. Monica handed her 200KSh as a gift, to which she replied “Give me 50 more!” … so much for the nice person she had talked with the past week. On the way to Nairobi, we were stopped at a Kenyan police checkpoint, and the police spotted the cracked windshield of our shuttle. The driver got out of the car, and the police officer and the driver went around to the back of the bus for a “discussion”. When they returned, the police was all smiles and the windshield was forgotten about (methinks a little money changed hands). We reached Jomo Kenyatta International Airport at around 6:30, and it was a quick stop. We thought we might even make it to our hotel by 7, in time to meet Ben and Saruni. That hope was soon crushed with a jackhammer when we hit a nasty gridlock just outside of the airport. Then the annoying “missile lock” buzzer started to go off (the driver seemed not to know what it meant or how to turn it off). It did not help that “I Will Survive” (a crappy knockoff of the Aretha version) was playing for the billionth time. The smell of exhaust and diesel was heavy. Monica subconsciously opened the window to get some “fresh air” only to realize a second later that it just let in more exhaust. The woman in front of us had passed out. Things were not going well.

After about 20 minutes, we turned into a gas station, let off a passenger, and headed out the back way to take a shortcut’ish. We hit another line of stopped traffic. The buzzer went off again. We inched along and finally started gaining some ground. By 7:30 we had arrived at another stop to let off a passenger. They started taking down our luggage. Our initial alarm at thinking we were going to be dropped off in an unknown part of Nairobi was assuaged when they started taking our luggage into the bus. Though the woman in front of us had passed out a while ago, we just realized it when we stopped. The woman’s husband said it was “just” an acute migraine brought on by the exhaust fumes and long travel. Our next stop was to take the unconscious woman and her husband to the Boulevard Hotel. Luckily, he was able to carry his wife off; she looked quite rough, and we were reminded that things could be worse. It was 8 by the time we left the Boulevard, and Ben was supposed to meet us at the Oakwood at 7:30. 20 minutes later we arrived at the hotel and basically had to bail out of the bus with all of our luggage since there was no parking. We quickly checked in, dropped off our bags, and met Ben and Saruni before leaving for Trattoria, an Italian restaurant rumored to have pizza. We had been anticipating this meal all day, and the long, annoying ride had left me hungry and irritable, so I was ready to sit down.

Arriving at the Trattoria, we could not figure out who would seat us. The waiter was a bit snotty. When Jim asked him how many the antipasti serves, the reply was “We do not share here!” Ben and especially Saruni looked very uncomfortable. I ordered a pizza and tried to order a spinach salad, but they did not have spinach. When the waiter tried to explain they could make the salad with a different leafy vegetable, I said it was unacceptable … take that snooty waiter :). Ben gave us a wicked cool bag of gifts! Despite the snooty waiter, the pizzas were good. The conversation was strange; at one point we were telling about seeing black and white colobus monkeys on Kilimanjaro, and Saruni interjects “I have a colobus monkey pelt that I wear on my head [when I dance at the manyatta]”. Poor Monica didn’t like the talk of monkey pelts. After dinner, we headed back to the hotel, gave Ben the books, and said goodbye to him. The pizzas had been good, but weeks of little dairy had left our stomachs unhappy. We stayed up to watch a movie (A Few Good Men); how fun to see a movie again!

July 6
We woke up feeling a bit better than we had when we went to sleep. Despite having gone to sleep at around 8 yesterday, we could easily have slept through breakfast at 7:30. Monica was quite cold and her stomach still was not happy. Breakfast was oatmeal, fruit, sausage, and eggs (like usual). After breakfast we had to deal with the tipping thing. Unfortunately, we had talked with everyone before and were under the impression that all of this would be taken care of at the hotel when we returned, but here we were trying to figure out if we had enough to pay everyone. We were quite annoyed that no one had told us we needed cash on the mountain; we had left everything in the hotel safe and felt annoyed that we had no choice in the tip we gave. We packed our things, turned the money over to William, and started down.

The walk was more pleasant today. We walked down through the lush cloud forest. Our eyes were out for monkeys. At one point Renata and William stopped so that Renata could wrap her knee. We had been asking our guides if they had seen monkeys all morning, and 30 minutes after we saw Renata stop, we asked again. They said they had seen monkeys when Renata had stopped. We were very annoyed that no one had mentioned it to us earlier! We kept watching and even asked the porters coming up if they had seen any ahead … yes, 15 minutes ahead! 10 minutes later I heard a rustling in the trees to our right, and we watched a group of blue monkeys play in the trees above us. They are bigger than the Sykes monkeys we had been studying and have puffy, cute, fuzzy cheeks.

We were nearing the Mweka Gate when we heard the croaking of black and white colobus monkeys (like the vocalization of howler monkeys) to our left in response to the territorial chirps of a group of blue monkeys. We still could not see any colobus monkeys, though. Finally, about 20 minutes from the gate, I heard a branch break to my right and looked around to see a fuzzy white tail move along a branch … a black and white colobus monkey at last! They were so cute! We watched them for several minutes before moving on, but a couple of minutes later there was a group chilling in the trees to our left. We took another long break to observe their behavior :). Yea!

We continued on to the gate, signed out, and bought a couple of patches to commemorate our climb. A hawker had a t-shirt that we wanted, but we had no money. We finally realized we had gotten 5000 TSh in change earlier, and had the van stop. We could not find the money, but Renata loaned it to us, and Monica got a very cool shirt for about $4. Monica found our money less than a minute later and paid Renata back. We arrived at our hotel about an hour later and went through the ritual of buying the guides drinks, giving our guides tips, and being presented with our certificates for reaching the summit of Kilimanjaro. When the ceremony was over everyone got up to leave; I palmed an extra tip and passed it to Moses, and Jim and I both thanked him for being such a great guide.

We quickly realized, though, that we would not have enough cash to pay for our equipment rental, though! They were good enough to take me to the bank where (after waiting for an eternity to get to the counter) I was able to change over enough money to US$ to pay for our stuff. They returned me to the Key’s Hotel Annex. I found Monica and Jim at the restaurant freshly showered and clothed and sitting in front of a small feast of hamburger, club sandwich, and beer. They were nice enough to share, but first I went to the room to shower. The hotel staff took my terribly disgusting boots to clean them (they returned later sparkling clean and looking better than they had in years, and it was all for 2 US$!). When I got in the room, I could not resist trying our iPod again, so I set it up just perfectly with power fed from an outlet and pushed the power button. It worked! It was a minor miracle! After a luxuriously long shower and shave, I was exiting the room when Monica came in to see whether I had drowned. I came down and gorged myself on the remains of their food and washed it all down with a Kilimanjaro Beer! It was heavenly!

After eating, Monica and I went to the pool while I left the newly revived iPod to download our camera. We hung out writing postcards before going to dinner. At dinner, I seemed to be the only one hungry: I ended up consuming a steak, cake with ice cream, a ½ liter of water, a beer, and 2 shots of rum while conversing in German, English, and Swahili (sometimes the wrong language with people), which was infinitely amusing to Jim and Monica. After some fun discussions about Kilimanjaro, German beer (everyone has an opinion on which is the best), Ethiopia, and the final resting place of the Ark of the Covenant (Bundeslager auf Deutsch), we parted and went to bed.

July 5
The “day” started just before midnight this morning. We had had little sleep. Monica’s stomach was rebelling, though, I was doing relatively well. I ate a few biscuits while Monica just sat and put her boots and gaiters on; she did not eat anything. We all got into our cold weather gear, turned on our headlamps, and lined up single file in the enveloping darkness. We started out at midnight. It was very dark except for an orange crescent moon near the horizon, a few stars, and the pale glow of our headlamps.

We walked for about 10 minutes before stopping for a rest; Monica vomited. The guides were concerned, but she felt better and kept going. We continued another 30 minutes before resting again. The sky was crystal clear with the crescent moon illuminating the floor of clouds sitting over 2000 feet below us. We watched shooting stars across an immobile blanket of stars. Monica was feeling ok, but an hour later she vomited again. The guides were becoming more concerned, but we kept going. I strained to breathe without getting winded, but it was difficult. Monica somehow handled it without much difficulty.

We stopped again, and Monica was feeling very nauseous again, but she held it back. The guides cautioned that she was risking life by continuing. She refused to turn back. The stars in the sky disappeared, and all we could see were a faint trail of lights from hikers’ headlamps: one far below us and one far above, both hanging delicately in space – other hikers facing the same desolation. We continued up the steep slope, fighting to keep stepping and to prevent ourselves from slipping down the scree slope. My headlamp had started to became just a faint glow, barely enough to see the feet walking in front of me, despite a fresh set of batteries inserted just before we started out.

The time became lost in the labor of taking each additional step and trying to get enough oxygen from the thin atmosphere. At some point, we could make out a ghostly white snow cap sitting above us. We stopped for a rest; Jim saw me and said “the way you look makes me feel better” :). At some point, the sky started lightening, and I got a new wind. Maybe my body had finally adjusted to the low oxygen, or the ability to see my surroundings (and where I was stepping), and the climbing became much easier. It was about 5:45 when we reached the first traces of snow. We watched the sky erupt in shades of pink and then orange, as the sun rose between the peaks of Kibo and Mawenzi. Moses said we were almost to Stella Point and pointed to a place just above the first mantle of snow. I looked and said “I can do that”; Jim responded “Well pardon my French, I’ll be God-damned.” We reached Stella Point on the crater rim by 7:15 and were all very happy! Everyone else collapsed into a pile while I leapt up onto the ledge to see the glacier lying down the slope of the crater (and to relieve myself). When I came back a few minutes later, we took a group photo.

William and Marga started back down with Monica in tow. When they began descending
Monica asked “Why are we going this way? Is this the way to the peak?”
William: “No. We are going back down”
Monica: ‘But I just got here. Is anyone going to the peak?”
William: “No, it is too late”
Monica: “But I want to see a glacier! I’m going to see a glacier.”
At which point, Monica turned around and found Jim and Scott with Moses and Dennis (the other guide) at Stella Point. The decision was unanimous: we would try to make it to Uhuru Peak. If we did not make it, at least we could stay at the crater a bit longer and enjoy the beautiful glaciers. We set off at a slow pace: pole pole. The climb to Uhuru Peak is gradual; though, the thin air still made progress difficult. Around 8:15, we made it to Uhuru Peak! We were very happy and took a bunch of photos of us before turning around.

The walk back down was REALLY easy, and we reached Stella Point in only 10-15 minutes! Then the fun started! The scree that had vexed us so much on the way up was transformed into a gray ski slope! For about 1-1/2 hours we flew down the slope, using our hiking poles as ski poles: downhill, moguls, slalom … it was all there! We knew our knees would pay for it, but we thought it was so much fun, and so did Moses, who was laughing not only at how fun it was but also at us. Jim thought the whole thing was some version of hell. Dennis accompanied him down while the 3 of us “skied” down the slope. Barafu Camp just seemed to hang in the same place no matter how far we went. For the last 20-30 minutes, the slope was not steep enough to ski, and we were tiring of the journey. The constant shock of hitting the ground had made both of our heads feel as though someone were trying to break through them with a jackhammer.

When we walked into camp, Monica made a mad dash for the impenetrable choo, an outhouse down a loose, cleaved shale slope. Jim had caught up as Monica returned. Several minutes later, we walked into our camp, and we collapsed in our tents. Monica and I were completely exhausted, and we had really exerted our muscles. Lunch was ready presently, and we could not nap long (5 minutes). Lunch was chicken soup and eggy chips! It was very good! We went back to sleep some more, but we noticed the porters were picking up our camp. We started throwing our things in our backpacks and saw Marga, William, and Renata leave for Mweka Camp. No rest for the weary. Monica, Jim, Moses, a few porters, and I were the only ones left at camp.

We both had headaches, our stomachs were a bit off, and our joints and muscles were filing protests with the appropriate authorities to try to block us from progressing further. It was not a good way to start a 4-hour hike to Mweka Camp. A swift wind blew towards Mawenzi while the sun beat through the mountain air. Despite feeling quite tired and having the headache work crew trying to drill through our skulls, it was an enjoyable walk. Monica, Jim, and I talked while Moses hung back about 100 yards (why? We don’t know – maybe he’d had enough of us?). The land sloped gently down towards the cloud ceiling along a wide ridge line. We started in high desert with little flora. Gradually, we began to see flowers, then joined by small bushes, then by large bushes, and then small coniferous trees. Some time after we started the landscape was filled with small trees! Two hours into our journey, we walked into High Camp, halfway to our destination. We took a break; Monica and I sat on a shaded bench with heads propped on our poles and wishing we were done. We started off again. The path was studded with large rocks and sloped downward at a fairly steep grade. At some point, we reached a part of the path that looked like a fairly nice road, which lasted all of a couple hundred meters before turning back into the boulder studded path we’d been on; maybe it was a test track where they airdrop cars? We talked with Moses a lot in Swahili and found out a lot about his family. We finally reached Mweka Camp, signed in, and bought ourselves and Jim a coke and Moses a Kilimanjaro beer.

The guys in the shop were highly amused that we knew some Swahili and wrote a bunch of words down for us. We chatted for a while, as we drank and then left for our campsite. Monica was feeling rough, and she crashed as soon as we’d made our beds. We had zucchini soup, chapatti, chicken, and curried rice with peas. The chapatti was very good: soft and cooked with onion. Monica just had some soup and chapatti before she returned to the tent because she was feeling sick and feverish. We all went to bed early after agreeing to discuss the tipping of the guides and porters tomorrow.