Africa

Day Four: Friday

A Visit to the Maasai Village  

David has arranged to have coffee and toast before dawn. We awake to someone calling out, “Mr. David, your coffee is ready.” He dresses quickly, expecting to be escorted to the dining room only to find, to his delight, a smiling Natalie standing outside our door with a breakfast tray in hand. We are not in a hurry this morning, and do not have a big agenda for the day other than a visit to a nearby Maasai village in the afternoon, so David settles into the easy chair under the glow of the gas lantern.

When the power comes on, we read for a bit, but at the first hint of light filtering through the canvas we move outside to our deck. The baboons are on the move again, about twenty feet from our tent, and further down the escarpment a young Maasai boy, long stick in hand, urges his goat herd forward. Through binoculars I can see one of the three large, and probably elderly, bull elephants that have been hanging out among the trees on the flatland just below us. Amazingly enough my camera’s zoom lens picks him out as well. Click!

Mathew and Katherine are in the dining room so we join them for breakfast and carry on our discussions from the night before. There have been very few guests at the lodge since we have been here and this morning, apart from the four of us, there is a group of three young adults. They are preparing for a full day safari and quite excited as to what they might see. David asks where they are from and when one girl answers Utah, he asks if they have hiked in the Grand Canyon. “Just Havasupai,” she replies, and we tell them we too have been there! It seems another example of the small world experience.

After breakfast we say good-bye to Mathew and Katherine and I visit the lodge “office” to see if there is any chance the internet is up and running. The young woman tells me to come back in an hour or so when her computer will be free. It’s been two days since David has been able to pick up his e-mails and I am a little surprised that he is taking it so well. When we come back later, it is not such a simple task. It seems our carrier, Bell Aliant, is being blocked at one end or the other, and none of our regular e-mail accounts work. Finally, David finds a way around this, and breaks through. Well, at least we can get a message to our dog, via both my sister and nephew (who is dog sitting for us), that we miss him!

David retires back to the tent to read and I wander the grounds of our lodge, which is described in the travel literature as having, “the authentic Out of Africa experience where much of the original film itself was filmed and produced.” I find a natural little stone tabletop, overlooking the Mara, and I can almost see Robert Redford and Meryl Streep camping in this very spot. On my way back to the lodge for lunch I notice there are quite a few giraffes in amongst the acacias and many of the resident zebras grazing. I still can’t quite believe that this is not a movie set.

George arrives at three to take us to the Maasai village. This, it turns out, is one of the villages we have been viewing through our binoculars, about two kilometers, as the crow flies, from our deck. Of course, on the muddy road, it feels like a ten kilometer trek! When we arrive, George and an elder Maasai engage in a lively discussion – in Swahili – which we guess is about money. There is a fee for the tour, which will go towards the new school that this particular village is building.

Having migrated from the Nile Valley around the end of the 17^th century, the Maasai have become a cultural force in the area of the Mara, as well as in many other parts of East Africa. Living much the same way as they have for centuries, the men are clearly identifiable, in their bright red cloaks, often carrying a spear or rudimentary bow and arrow, and the women adorned in layers of beads and bangles. Cattle are the major sign of wealth and the more cattle a man has the wealthier he is. Likewise, the more wives he is, the richer he is! The products of cattle – milk, blood, hides, and dung – are all central to the way of life. To this day, the main diet of the many Maasai is only a fermented drink of cows milk and blood (a nick is made in the jugular vein of a cow and the blood gathered in a calabash). Occasionally a goat is killed for meat, and some grains have been introduced to their diet … but no fruits and no vegetables!

The Kenyan government is encouraging the Maasai to abandon traditional ways and have their children educated, so some villages are building schools, financed by tourism (as this village is doing) or missionary groups. We gladly pay the fee and pass through the opening of the thorny acacia branches that encircle the village (the huts are built around the inner circumference of the branch fence and within its circle is another circular acacia barrier where the cattle are herded to each night). I am not prepared for just how primitive this scene is. The mud and dung huts remind me of the ancient Anasazi ruins we have seen in the American southwest.

First, two senior men greet us and show us how they make fire with two sticks (which they then sell us) No Bic lighters or matches here! Our guide is John, perhaps twenty something, who has grown up in this village. He has gone off to “city” school and so speaks a little English. It is his mother’s house that he takes us into next. About five feet high on the inside, it consists of several tiny chambers reeking of smoke, with one or two six-inch stools, a stretched cowhide for a bed, and a fire pit. Oh, and sometimes the lucky cow that is being bled. John tells us that when he first arrived at school he was sick for a week from the food!

When we come out of the hut a group of four woman, barefoot but colourfully dressed in flowing fabrics and beautifully beaded neck, ear, and head jewellery, are waiting to welcome me into their midst. A beaded neck collar is carefully laid over my head and I am expected to dance and chant with them. It appears that we are doing this in about a foot of cow dung – I am grateful I am wearing my hiking shoes. John is shouting his encouragement to me … “move your arms … shake your head,” he says, the large gap between his front teeth showing as he smiles a big smile.

There are at least fifteen women of all ages and twice as many children waiting for us when we exit the compound. They too are beautifully adorned and have spread a circle of red blankets in amongst the grazing goats. The blankets are covered in their handiwork – carvings and beaded baskets and calabashes … beaded necklaces, earrings, bracelets – I am swooning in the swirl of colour and craft. But we are not prepared for this and though we try to buy something from each woman (they have, after all, done this just for the two of us) we still have to have John accompany us back to the lodge so we can get more money. I regret that I did not buy more, but David gives John some extra money for his education and I hope that our visit will also help build their school.

At dinner David and I begin to think about tomorrow. It will be Christmas Eve day and we leave at the crack of dawn for a long drive to Tanzania and the Serengeti. If it rains in the night, the shortcut will be closed and what George has described as the “long way” sounds less than appealing. We keep our fingers crossed and let the Mara’s night music take us into sleep. 

Africa

Day Three: Thursday

Big Day on the Mara

We wake up before the sun but the power is on so it must be after five. Our water however is cold, and does not warm up before we go to breakfast. They have forgotten to light the fire! From inside our tent we can hear the tinkle tinkle of cowbells as the Maasai take the cattle from their nighttime enclosure down the escarpment to the plains. I hear a ruckus outside and we step onto the deck in time to catch a family … no, must be several families … of baboons passing not five feet from us. They pay us no mind, and carry on. Further below are a couple of giraffes grazing on the tall acacia trees and a male Thomson gazelle watching a small band of bachelor gazelles lingering too close to his harem. As we walk to the lodge, a group of zebras, not the least bit afraid of us, saunters off among the smaller acacia trees.

Breakfast is waiting: eggs (any style), pancakes, toast, and some sort of bacon – perhaps beef – as there is little pork available in this part of Africa in respect of the Muslim population. After we meet George who is wiping the last smears of yesterday’s mud from the van. It has rained again in the night but the thunderclouds are rolling off the horizon with the promise of a great day. Even though we are here at the end of rainy season, it is still very wet. This makes for very lush vegetation and good animal viewing (except for the big cats which are harder to see in the tall grass) but VERY muddy roads. I am not looking forward to the drive down to the plains and how we finally arrive at the park gate indeed seems a miracle.

Today is to be a full day safari. When we ask George if we will see a lion or a rhino or an elephant, he just smiles and says, “We are looking.” I can tell he does not want to get our hopes up but his job is to make us happy. No sooner are we through the park gates when we spy some elephants – two large bulls together and one lone bull further on. George barely gets the van in gear before one of us hangs out the pop-top and points, “Look … eleven o’clock …three topis.” Impalas, warthogs, Thomson gazelles, Grants gazelles, waterbucks, zebras, giraffes, and a small herd of eland, the largest of the antelopes – there are animals everywhere.  I pinch myself to be sure I am not in some sort of dreamscape.

The birds are something else. Such colour: The superb starling with its iridescent blue back and rust belly; the gorgeous lilac-breasted roller … a pallet of violet, turquoise, green, tawny brown and vivid blue. Such feathery display: the crested crane with its tiara of golden feathery spikes and deep red throat; the large secretary bird with its quill like crest and white shirt and black pants. Such oddballs: the red-wattled prehistoric looking ground Hornbill; the large Kori bustard, which prefer not to fly. We also see a variety of long legged waders, ducks, hawks, vultures, storks, egrets, herons and a host of smaller birds of varying beauty.

We stop at the hippo pool and sure enough there are several huge bodies submerged in the muddy Mara River. George points out that this is not only one of the main places the hippos hang out (because they can’t sweat, they have to stay in the water during the heat of the day) but also one of the spots were the wildebeests and zebras cross the river during the migration. This also means that crocodiles are close by and sure enough we see one not far from the hippos. This time of year the crocs are not as well fed as they are when the animals are crossing – then it is a veritable feast – and have to rely on animals that get too close to the edge to drink, or the odd baby hippo.

Further along the river we are in luck to see a rare black rhino. This rhino is on the critically endangered list primarily due to illegal poaching for their horns. George tells us there are only about twenty left in the Masai Mara region. But we can’t stay long to watch this giant as George gets a call from a fellow guide. Lions!

It is getting close to lunch (and certainly a bathroom break – getting out of the vehicle is strictly not allowed) but George “speeds” along even passing a large herd of elephants foraging close to the road. “We will come back,” he says. “The lions might not wait!”

Finally after being shook up like a cocktail, we arrive at another spot along the river. There are several other jeeps here (it is amazing how few other vehicles we have come across so far) and people are hanging out the pop-tops looking through binoculars and cameras. George vies for a good spot and we follow everyone’s gaze. About 100 feet away is a clump of low leafy acacias and what looks like some large rocks in the tall grass. Ten feet from the large rocks are more rocks but … then … two fuzzy ears appear … four ears … and then, two very inquisitive feline faces. It is two older cubs and when we look back at the rocks below the trees we realize that they are sleeping lions – a male and several females. Everyone is smiling. The cubs go back to sleep.

Before we can get back to the elephants George makes a beeline for the Serena Mara Lodge where we can use the facilities. This accommodation is also situated on high ground with a spectacular 180 view of the plains but without the “awful” road to get to it and, a handy dirt airstrip not two kilometers away. David quickly notes that there is working wi-fi, a swimming pool and a lovely lounge. “But ours is the real thing,” I say, knowing that we could be quite comfortable here!

After a few purchases in the gift shop we are back on the road looking for a picnic place. We would be happy to eat enroute but George has a spot in mind. When we get there it proves to be less than inviting as George spreads a blanket under the large acacia tree, hands us our box lunches, and retreats to the van. No wonder. The matted grass is wet, the ground bumpy, and the flies have found us. David and I quickly down what we deem edible (the potato chips are the best) and join George in the van.

On the way back we run into (almost literally) the herd of elephants. Mothers, babies, and enormous bulls. A couple of silver backed jackals are lurking about as well as some large and small wart hogs that flee the road with their tails straight in the air. Lounging in mud pools, with small birds pecking the ticks of their backs, are several Cape buffalo, a massive animal that appears docile, but is extremely dangerous and unpredictable when disturbed.

Everyone talks about the “Big Five” as the “must see” in terms of animals. Elephant, Cape buffalo, black rhino, lion, and leopard. We ask George why … why not the giraffe, or cheetah, or wildebeest? He explains that these five were (and perhaps still are, though not legally) the most prized hunting trophies. All very dangerous – unlike the sweet giraffes and other grazing ungulates. So, if we are keeping track, we only have yet to see the leopard!

George wants to slip back to the hippo pool for one more look and there we are greeted by a small group (about eight) of giraffes. One saunters by the parked van, peering down at us, so close we could reach out and touch it. (When giraffes walk, they pace – their left front and hind legs move forward as one … then the right side moves – in an almost slow motion movement. However when they run, they have a four-beat gallop just like a horse). The giraffes we are seeing are Masai giraffes, with jagged-edged, vine-leaf shaped spots of a dark chocolate colour on a yellowish to whitish background. With their long eyelashes, tufted horns and fuzzy muzzles it is hard not to fall in love with every one we see.

The rain has held off all day but dark clouds are roiling over the escarpment as we head back up the “awful” road. It is worse than this morning and we decide not to venture down this way again until we have to leave. Just off the mud road, passed the Maasai village, what appears to be a large tabby cat, slips into the shadow of some low bushes. “A cat,” I shriek. George laughs and says, “Kitty cat.” (But I don’t see another “kitty cat” on this whole trip and am convinced when I get home and speak with a cat friend, that what I saw was a Serval cat).

We make it back just in time for dinner, inviting Mathew and Katherine, who are still here, to join us. Both are very well educated – he is a wildlife veterinary and she is an agriculturist. Mathew has travelled to the US and Europe and shares with us some insights on living in Africa. The discussion becomes lively as David probes deeper on subjects as diverse as the many wives of the Maasai men to the future of Africa while Mathew ponders each question and responds carefully, honestly … and we laugh a lot.

We are escorted back to our tent, the water is still hot, and we are tired. We fall asleep to the sound of dogs barking, warding off any predators lurking about, and a few huffs and rumble of a nearby night prowler.

Africa

Day two: Wednesday

Off to the Masai Mara

Jackson and our tour company host, James, meet us around 8:00 am and we are off to the smaller regional airport. We have repacked our bags in case we are over-weight, but even though the plane is a small fourteen seater, we are good to go. There are two other family “groups” waiting for our plane and David, always interested in his surroundings, turns to me and says, “Montreal … Jewish.” Well, as it turns out, the one family not only lived in Beaconsfield (attended our high school, BHS), but lived in a house that was previously owned by a close friend of David’s. It never ceases to amaze us, just how small a world it can be.

The flight takes us over low mountains and savannah where we can see farms - small enclosures with huts and what looks likes cattle – though hard to say. After about forty minutes the plane descends, banks, and lands on a dirt runway. We come to a stop in front of a few thatched huts with waiting jeeps and half of our fellow travelers disembark. Then, just as quickly, we are off again.

Ten minutes later we land on another dirt runway – more mud this time. When the plane comes to a full stop, George, our driver/guide, meets us for our stay at the Masai Mara. Unlike most of the other vehicles – 4WD jeeps – George drives a rear wheel van. As we set off the mud rises to the running boards ... the ruts, the washouts, are unbelievable. And yes, we get stuck! A jeep behind us pulls us back out of the hole we are in and George guns it one more time. I don't know how, but we are moving again ... slipping and spinning sideways around another turn ahead.

The van finds solid ground and George speeds up, his eyes on another jeep off-road in the distance. Not to be expected so soon, but a lion has been spotted in the tall grass, only a few feet from the jeep. George debates turning on to the muddy track but rather than risk being stuck again we carry on. Then all of a sudden zebras, a baboon, Thomson's gazelles, impalas, topis, lots more zebras ... all the while climbing above the savannah, up an escarpment, on a road so rough that words can not describe. Perhaps it is like driving up one of the rocky trails on Maine’s Mt Katahdin! I expected rough roads but ... well, I can only say, we are amazed when we arrive at the lodge, the Masai Mara West, in one piece.

After a glass of juice and a quick introduction to the rules of the lodge we are shown to our "luxury tent" perched on the edge of the Oloololo Escarpment overlooking the Mara as far as the eye can see. Small herds of grazing zebra, gazelles, and impala dot the landscape and just below the deck a young boy is herding a large flock of goats. My eyes tear up … I cannot believe I am actually here.

The rectangular luxury tent is indeed both a tent and luxurious. The floor and frame are wood and the door glass but the sides and roof are canvas. The screen windows have roll up flaps, just like the tent I had as a child. There are two netted beds (one for us, one for Smooch) and some comfy chairs tastefully highlighted with African fabrics. Across one end three walls are stone – the bathroom, complete with a large walk-in shower – separated from the bed-sitting room by curtains. We are told the power comes on in the morning from about 5:00 to 7:00 and in the evening from about 6:00 to 10:00. Outside our tent sits a wood-fired boiler and it will be lit at 5:00 in the morning and again at 5:00 in the evening for plenty of hot water.

We are also told that under no circumstances are we to walk alone at night. We are given what appears to be a walkie-talkie that will connect us to the office to request a Maasai escort to and from the dining room.

No time for a nap yet as lunch is waiting: potato salad, primavera pasta, and what appears to be a cake mix carrot cake. We are hungry and enjoy every bite. Our first game drive will be at 4:00 but George will not be taking us – instead a driver from the lodge with a sturdy jeep. Mathew and Katherine, a young African couple from Nairobi will accompany us. They are evaluating our driver/guide, John, and hence, need some “tourists” for him to guide. We will have just enough time to clean up, put a few clothes away, and lie down for half an hour before we are ready to go.

The jeep skids and slides back over the mud-water-filled-rutted path that follows the line of the escarpment to the non-road we came up on from the savannah, not four hours earlier (which becomes known as the “awful” road). We pass Maasai huts, cattle and goat herds (lots of baby goats scamper out of our way), Maasai men in their red robes, barefoot women and young children washing clothes in what appears to be muddy ponds, drying clothes draped on the low bushes (I think this is how our laundry will be done if we don't wash it in our sink), and more zebras, gazelles, and impalas.

We are tossed left and right and hang on for dear life as we descend over the boulders, across ravines, and maneuver around enormous holes. I think George gave us a smoother ride with his van! Finally we are through the park gates and travelling along another muddy trail criss-crossed with rivulets between the deep ruts. We are here at the end of the rainy season so not only is there still a lot of water everywhere, but the almost daily rain drains down from the escarpment to the savannah.

The migration of wildebeests and zebras* has already passed this way – the animals having fed on the rich grasses sprung from the rainy season. But with their passing the savannah is again lush and now provides lots of food for the elephants, giraffes, impala, topi, gazelles and other grazers. And we see them all on our drive. Our road becomes a river as we traverse through wetlands – looking, we think, for rhinos. We see some hippos and many incredible birds - egrets, cranes, raptors, vultures, herons and a myriad of smaller brightly colored birds. (* George tells us the following day that some zebras do not migrate, thus there are always herds of “resident” zebras on the Mara, but not wildebeests.)

We are out for several hours before we turn around and begin to again climb the “awful” road in the almost dark. I would be lying to say, I am not just a little anxious. Once or twice I am sure we will tip or fall into a ravine. But we make it back before total darkness surrounds us and just in time for dinner. Tonight David is brave and samples the fish offering but I stick with more pasta, a little bland but good just the same. When we finish, we are escorted to our tent by a Maasai man, complete with spear and bow and arrow. He does not speak much English but we understand he is there to protect us from roaming animals. We are not within a fenced compound and no, this is not Disneyland!

The hot water is very hot and feels so good after our drive. We close the mosquito net around our bed and listen to the shuffles, snuffles, and rustlings coming from the night darkness. Dogs are barking, we assume, from the Maasai village, and once or twice we hear some loud grunts beyond our screened window … but do not know what it is or care to find out …

Africa

Day One: Tuesday

We Arrive in Nairobi

We arrive in Nairobi at 7:00 am, after a long flight from Amsterdam, with very little sleep behind us. It seems to take forever to get our Kenyan visa and to clear customs, but the good news is that both our bags are waiting for us. (Our carefully packed carry-ons were not accepted on the Amsterdam-Nairobi flight – we were over by just a few kilos!)

In the reception hall we scan the various signs being held up and see our names. Jackson is to be our driver and guide but all we want to do is go to the hotel and sleep. After a short drive through third world city chaos we arrive at the Serena Hotel. Our first hint that there is more than a little bit of tension still lingering in Nairobi (regarding the recent Somali Al Quaeda kidnappings and murder of tourists off the north Kenyan coast) is the major security at the hotel. Our van is stopped at the gate by guards with machine guns, then the under-carriage checked with mirrors before the barrier rises. At the front door we, and our baggage, pass through scanners similar to an airport’s and Jackson tells us, yes, it is due to the Al-Qaida threat. But once inside, the hotel is lovely, luxurious ... and our room inviting.

We sleep soundly most of the afternoon (after a light lunch) and then dine in the exquisite, comfortable bar ... while the night chirpers in the gardens are singing their evening songs. We begin to feel the lure of Africa and are excited about what lies ahead.

It is amazing that we can sleep more but we do (well, David is up pretty much awake at midnight and is trying to get some e-mails sent … but it seems Aliant web-mail does not like dealing with Africa and so he has a frustrating time). He orders coffee and toast about 4:00 am – “the best meal of the trip,” he says later –  and then sleeps until our wake-up call at 6:30.