What’s Next? Skydiving…?

I thought my “extreme-experiences-in-Kenya” list would be a short one… actually, I thought the list would consist of only one bullet point: riding a helicopter with a net-gunning team from New Zealand over the rolling landscape and wildlife-rich terrain of Kenya. I mean, just saying it sounds cool. However, life in Kenya once again surprised me when on a random Saturday afternoon…

I rode an elephant.

Two bullet points. Check!

Over the weekend, Mpala School’s Conservation Club members took a day trip to Mpala’s neighbor Ol Jogi. Ol Jogi Ranch has a game reserve called Pyramid which is home to quite an assortment of roaming wildlife, and it even has a mini-zoo. As soon as the kids piled off the school bus the first exhibit we were shown was a black leopard. The black leopard is melanistic or all black. It receives it’s midnight-colored coat from a recessive allele which causes it to have an excess of black pigmentation. I couldn’t look away from its pearly white eyes.

Other exhibits included a Russian brown bear (I’m pretty sure the only brown bear in Africa), lions, wild dogs, cheetahs, wild cats, and an incredibly beautiful aviary which you could walk through. Owls, cockatoos, and Kori bustards were just a few of the inhabitants. The aviary was home to more than birds, however for as we walked along the pebbled path, we saw a gazelle, impala, tortoises, monkeys from Java, and a duiker. The kids absolutely loved being that close to the wildlife – although there is a plethora of wildlife where we live, it is rare for anyone to be so close. Outside of the exhibits were tremendously docile elands, a camel, and a nosy ostrich that were grazing right alongside of us as we walked through the reserve. The whole time a guide narrated the tour – he knew everything about the animals and answered all the kids’ questions.

relishing the aviary paradise

It was in the afternoon that we had our first encounter with the two trained elephants. After a morning of grazing, the two leviathons heavily approached us, looking pretty intimidating. However, within a few seconds, it was easy to see that they wouldn’t be causing any trouble. While chomping down on carrot bits, the elephants played a harmonica, beat the drums, stood on three legs and hopped, sprayed the crowd of kids with water… and gave me a ride. I won’t lie, when the elephant first got up and started walking around with me on its back… I was petrified of falling off. There wasn’t a seat, just bare back and I was hanging on for dear life! When my ride was over and I slid off, my hands were shaking. I guess I didn’t realize I was such a wimp. However, I would do it again.

Overall, it was a fun Saturday. A shout-out and thanks to Ol Jogi for their hospitality. I know the kids learned a book’s worth of new facts and they were able to experience the wildlife up close. Even for kids whose homes are in the bush, seeing the wildlife in Pyramid’s environment was new and exciting and gave them a different perspective.

Conservation Club members with one of Ol Jogi's elephants

The Holiday, Part III. Welcome to Egypt

Ding! Ding! “Attention, passengers. We have begun our descent and will be landing in the next ten minutes. Please put your trays up and return your seats to their upright position.” Slowly, I blinked my eyes, letting in a small crack of light. With a lurch, the plane dropped then straightened out; unfortunately, the correction in orientation didn’t prevent a wave of nausea from sweeping over me. I closed my eyes again and dozed off. What seemed like seconds later, I was jostled awake by the plane landing on the tarmac… local time: 3:45 a.m. Drowsily, I rose out of my seat and rummaged through the intertwined, searching arms of other passengers and tightly packed luggage in the overhead bins searching for my backpack. Having finally located it, I swung it around onto my back and followed the line of exiting passengers through the narrow aisle.

From this point on, my memory of the week in Egypt seems like a blur of vivd sunset oranges, tropical greens, deep sea blues, and sandy yellows. Instead of giving you a play-by-play of my trip (which would undoubtedly make you yawn and be painful for me to write) I would like to present top and bottom ten lists… Wahoo!

“The Sun God Ra’s Pride & Joy” Egypt Top 10

10. Felluca ride on the Nile – In Luxor also known as Thebes, south of Cairo, the Nile runs straight through the heart of the city. Lining the river are hundreds of Fellucas or small sailboats. They have no engines, just trained sailors. It is a livelihood and most have grown up learning the trade from their fathers, who learned it from their fathers, and so on. I went out on a Felluca around 4:30 pm as the sun was beginning to set… it was the most peaceful part of my trip: the repetitive sound of the water lapping up against the sides of the boat, the warm setting sun’s rays on my face, the peaceful view of farmers on their camels’ backs heading home from the sugar cane fields on the shores, and being served a cup of sweet “welcoming tea” by the captain’s 6-year-old son.

Fellucas on the Nile

9. Muslim mosques & prayers – At the first glimpse of dawn, the speakers would crackle alive and then a recorded deep, mournful voice would reverberate throughout the city. The Adhan, or Muslim call to prayer, was my wakeup call every morning and heard four other times throughout the day. Although some mornings I was roused from a deep slumber (and I certainly wouldn’t be awarded the world’s most cheerful person in the morning award), just hearing the call was exhilarating. It felt as though I was secretly being granted access to experience this ancient and most honored custom… goosebumps raised up on my forearms every time. Meanwhile, lining the streets of Cairo and Luxor were the most ornately decorated and polychromatic mosques. Each mosque had a handful of giant gold-plated, beige, or brightly colored domes and a number of minarets or slim towers rising up to the skies. Every mosque was different, yet uniquely beautiful, and pervaded the chaotic city atmosphere with a sense of tranquility.

8. Egyptian food – pastries, kofta, koshary & guava juice… enough said. The food prices were low and the quality was high. Kofta is a spiced ground beef kabob, often served with rice and a tomato sauce or curry. Koshary seemed like a hodgepodge of ingredients – something a college student might make when cleaning out the pantry. However, don’t turn your nose up at the mixed dish of pasta, rice, lentils, chick peas, onions, garlic and chili sauce…it was delicious!

7. Temple of Queen Hatshepsut – Approaching the Temple is a treat in itself… it’s about a half mile walk to the elevated entrance made up of two giant terraces. You reach the bottom of a wide staircase where you  walk up a couple hundred steps to the second terrace’s facade which is alternately decorated with huge pillars and statues of pharoahs. Built entirely of limestone into the side of a cliff, huge rocks menacingly tower over you. Inside the Temple is a funerary obelisk and the tomb entrance… not to mention Queen Hatshepsut kicked ass: as the first female pharoah, she used propoganda and political skills to win over the people of Lower and Upper Egypt. She essentially became “king” by dressing in the traditional garb of male rulers including the headdress and false beard. She also constructed her Temple in the Valley of the Kings which, until her reign, had only held tombs of male pharoahs… to this day she is the only female with a tomb there. Perhaps Queen Elizabeth I took some notes on Hatshepsut’s style…

In front of the Temple of Queen Hatshepsut

6. Sugar cane fields lining the Nile – In Luxor, along the banks of the Nile, were miles and miles of sugar cane fields. Incredibly green rows of sweet stalks. In each field a handful of people could be seen working, the occasional child sitting amongst the vast farm land chewing on a freshly snapped off stem, and donkeys mulling about or pulling a load to the farm house. Simply one of the coolest sights.

5. Shopping in the Bazaar & spice market – an attack on every one of your senses: picture every color imaginable penetrating your sight, scents of every origin on earth being inhaled with each breath, continuous shouting from vendors ringing in your ears, the feel of countless silk scarfs and rough beads running through your fingers, and the savory taste of spices, peanuts, and teas being offered to you at every store front. Pretty overwhelming at first, but with time I absorbed it all and ended up having a fun time bargaining for goods. I even accepted a cigarette from a funny little spice vendor-man who kept talking about his cousin in America. It was disgusting (warning, Allison’s strong opinion about to be stated: smoking is bad for you – stop it) but accepting it from him really made his day, so I couldn’t rain on his parade and turn it down.

spice shop in Luxor

4. Valley of the Kings & hieroglyphics – There’s something to be said for entering sacred tombs of Ancient Egypt. Slowly descending from the reflected hot and bright sunlight into the dark coolness of the narrow tunnels leading to the burial rooms of Ancient Pharoahs is unreal. Along the walls were millions of hand-carved hieroglyphics, some still retaining the blues, reds, yellows, and browns that were painted hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Reaching the end of the tomb, were the final burial chambers containing enormous sarcophagi. Ascending once again, you emerge from the tunnel into the blinding light only to be surrounded by the monstrous cliffs and hills of sandstone into which the tombs were carved.

3. Egyptian Museum of Antiquities – You walk into this monstrous building and as far as the eye can see there are artifacts. Both incredibly massive like the full body statues of Ramses II to the minute scarab beetle beads. The museum has so many pieces that some are just haphazardly tossed on the sides of hallways and behind pieces of large construction paper. There is a special room for all of King Tut’s tomb artifacts… the room is kept at a freezing temperature and everything (except the two gold and gem-studded sarcophagi) are behind glass containers. His funerary mask was completely covered in gold, sapphire, rubies, and other precious stones and metals. It felt like you had entered a sacred chamber – everyone walking around and viewing the specimens was speaking in a whisper.

2. Karnak Temple & Luxor Temple – Built during the dynasty of Ramses II, there are hibiscus-shaped pillars as tall as three-story buildings, giant pearly-white obelisks, adorning every possible surface are thousands of carved hieroglyphics telling numerous stories of life, death, and the gods, and huge scarab beetle monuments… all under the open sky. I was lucky enough to visit both sights during the day and at night – each was equally breathtaking. During the day, the sun cast shadows making the sandstone appear alive, and at night the strategically placed lights created an enchanted and ancient mysticism. One trip was not enough…

Luxor Temple at night

1. Giza Pyramids & the Sphinx – Perhaps it was the setting sun behind the Sphinx’s head, or maybe it was reaching such a peaceful place after a chaotic day in the city… whatever the reason, my trip to the Giza Pyramids and the Sphinx was the most memorable. The monuments suddenly rise up from the city’s edge unexpectedly. Within 30 seconds you are transported back in time from the cosmopolitan, busy city center to the days of Ancient Egypt and the powerful worshipping of their many gods. You can actually touch the pyramids… I took a pebble from the ground… shhh! don’t tell. Even for any egocentrist, standing in the Giza Pyramid’s shadow will make you realize just how small you really are.

the Sphinx, the Pyramid, & Allison

honorable mention: Welcoming Tea – often given to you when you entered a store. It is made from dried hibiscus petals and sugar; Egyptian music – really funky and different than most stuff I listen to… I regret not getting a CD.

“What Makes King Tut Roll Over in His Grave” Egypt Bottom Ten

10. Titanic song “My Heart Will Go On” – for some reason, everyone had this song as their cell ringtone. Not only that, but it was playing in every taxi, elevator, and store I stepped into. BRUTAL. Thank you Celine Dion.

9. Nescafe – Coffee grounds… what’s that? On every menu under the “beverages” category I would scroll down and desperately hope to see ‘coffee.’ Instead, every time I was met with disappointment as my eyes fell upon ‘Nescafe’ right after the tea selections. Instant coffee is the drink of choice in Egypt and as an avid coffee drinker, Nescafe did not get the job done.

8. Sad-looking donkeys – there were so many donkeys on the streets of Luxor and the suburbs of Cairo… and they all looked SO sad pulling their carts packed high with sugar cane. I kept thinking about the bad boys in Pinocchio who travel to the island and get turned into donkeys… it made me sad.

7. Pollution – forget about a decent sunrise or sunset in Cairo. The air is so thick with smog that all you can see is a yellowish-orange haze. I also felt like I had a thick layer of grime on me and needed to shower after every venture onto the streets.

6. Number of other tourists – I guess it’s a good thing for Egypt, but MAN! Sometimes it really took away from the atmosphere that the ancient sights offered. Most of my pictures also have some lumbering idiot wearing a Hawaiian shirt and binoculars squinting up at a statue… harsh? Probably, but it got pretty frustrating at some moments.

really?!

5. Cigarette smoking – Perhaps Egypt has not heard that smoking kills you because everyone, everyone, smokes. It especially got to me when for a five-minute drive, my taxi driver couldn’t fight the urge to light up. Even in restaurants, chances were that the couple sitting next to me would start smoking as soon as their wine was served.

4. Hassle by store & sight vendors – In every store you passed by, the vendor would shout at you and on most occasions, run up to you shoving whatever their item was in your face. With so much competiton I guess they need to do it, but their aggressiveness was usually so overwhelming that I didn’t even want to look at whatever they were selling. Even at the sights, like the Temples, there were vendors INSIDE bothering you and trying to sell crappy carved scarab beetles and bootlegged dvds. It really urked me when I was trying to enjoy the feel of the place.

3. Ripped off by taxi drivers – Not knowing Arabic was an obvious sign that I was a foreigner and the taxi drivers abused that like no other. For short distances they started off by charging insane amounts. After a few outrageously priced taxi rides, I became tougher and bargained harder but I was still ripped off.

2. Overnight train to Luxor and back to Cairo – One word: freezing. For some reason, the heat didn’t work on the trains and the temperature of the cabins must have dropped to below freezing temperatures. We could actually see our breath and the windows frosted over. Needless to say, the shivering and constant movement to keep my blood flowing prevented any sleep from occuring.

1. Catcalling – By far the most annoying part of the trip was the attention that every single Egyptian male pays to foreign females. It was insane. From marriage proposals to “Wow, your eyes are so beautiful” to hissing across entire boulevards, the calls were incessant. By the end of my trip, I think I appreciated the quiet the most.

Seeing as I finished on a sour note with the bottom ten, I’d like to say that the overall trip was incredible. I’d like to go back after I visit a few other places. Yet, as I landed back in Nairobi and arrived at Mpala several hours later, I felt so content and comfortable curled up in my bed. It felt good to be home.

The Holiday, Part II

“Wait! Please, wait! I’m on that flight!” I yelled, running straight at the desk clerk in full on Home Alone style. I’m lucky I didn’t smack right into him. In a flurry of hand motions and sputtering I managed to convey that I was on the departing flight and that it was crucial I make it.

Crucial, you ask? Really? Unfortunately, yes… my student permit paperwork hadn’t been completed/processed in time and within two days my name would be removed from the Kenyan ‘legal alien’ category and tossed into the ‘illegal alien’ one. Not exactly a place one wants to be. I would have to leave the area that is the East African Community (Kenya, Tanzania, Uganda, Rwanda & Burundi) and then return to be reissued a new visa. Cool. At first I was, to put it lightly, panicky. It’s not cheap to fly across Africa due to the lack of airports in a majority of the countries, and money trees don’t grow here. I faced the problem of planning a trip to a foreign country I knew nothing about and doing it on a budget. However, I was pleasantly surprised at how enjoyable the planning process turned out to be. The first big decision was where to go… and that actually took no thought; I’ve been harboring a strong desire to visit Egypt since I was about seven, both intrigued and slightly obsessed with the Ancient Egyptians, so the first site I visited was kayak.com to check airline ticket prices to Cairo. After playing around for a while with different sites at different times of the day I finally clicked “purchase” around 11 p.m. I now had a round-trip flight to Cairo. Eeek.

“Madam, you’re too late,” came the reply. There was no way I was giving up. After pleading and telling him that I had no luggage (just a backpack, thank you very much!) he decided he could let me through. I almost hugged him…almost. But I held myself back since I’m pretty sure he thought I was weird enough. At this point, all stress and panic slowly hissed out of my body like a deflated balloon. Decompression, stage 1 began. It was only about 5:30 at this point – I had a whole hour until my flight left. And then, as I was walking towards my gate I heard a voice from the heavens boom, “Flight E787 is delayed. New departure time 7:20 p.m.” I actually laughed outloud at the irony. So, what to do with about an hour and a half? Coffee shop. I headed to the airport’s Java House, ordered a large coffee and settled down on a plush sofa chair with a book (White Tiger by Aravind Adiga – really terrific). Finally, boarding time rolled around. Within 15 minutes I was seated in the plane and eager to depart. Once we were airborne and the initial turbulence had subsided, I reached into my backpack and pulled out my itinerary. Tomorrow I would be spending the entire day at the Museum of Egyptian Artifacts in Cairo where King Tut’s sarcophagi, jewelry, ornaments, and the renowned funerary mask are on display… along with literally millions of other unearthed treasures. I was pumped.

Pole! It looks like I’m going to have to insert another “to be continued…” Next up: The Holiday, part III: the entire trip to Egypt. EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEWS AND PHOTOS! ONLY HERE!

On another, rather somber note:

I’d like to take a moment to talk/react to the recent tragedy that occurred near Mt. Kenya. An American mother and her 1-year-old daughter were trampled to death by an elephant:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/34726134/ns/world_news-africa/

My deepest sympathies go out to the family and friends. A few friends from the States have asked me why an elephant would react this way. I would have asked the same question before arriving at Mpala. In places unpopulated by elephants, people think of them in a storybook-like mystique: wise, peaceful and gentle giants (elephants never forget, right?). I’m in no way an elephant expert, but after having lived in the bush for six months, my view of elephants has entirely changed. From behind the metal doors of a Land Rover (engine on) or behind a cement wall in my banda looking out from a window, elephants are beautiful and incredible creatures; however, they are tremendously dangerous… garnering an altogether different kind of respect. Although not completely erratic, an elephant can be set off by just about anything… especially a lone elephant (as in the deaths above) or a mother guarding her young calf. In Laikipia, the locals have lived amongst elephants for generations and have also suffered occasional deaths due to elephant attacks. With more people living in Laikipia, more land being used for crop farming and ranching, and tourism as its most profitable industry, more and more human-elephant confrontations are bound to occur. Luckily, there are many people working on these issues… researchers, community leaders, government wildlife specialists, etc. It’s a delicate balance, and certainly a pressing area of study that is calling for a solution. However, one solution may not work for all… and essentially, it is important to remember that simply killing an elephant responsible for a human death will not provide a solution – only more unnecessary bloodshed.

mother & calf

The Holiday, Part I

Inshallah. God willing. My heart was pounding in my ears as I rushed to the check-in counter at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport. It was 5:15 p.m. – my flight was scheduled to leave at 6:30. Everything that could have gone wrong on the way did go wrong… Murphy’s Law at its finest.

The day had started off pleasantly enough, actually festively, as I was in Nairobi to visit with a friend Halima who had just given birth to her first child. Her husband George, George’s friend, and I crawled through Nairobi traffic on the “City Hoppa” bus to the opposite side of the city where the hospital was located. Emerging from the top of a hill, the white facade of the hospital was like a breath of fresh air from the smoggy city center. The three of us squeezed off the bus and made our way to the entrance bearing small care-package gifts for the new mom. The emergency room was buzzing: every seat was occupied and numerous stretchers bearing blanketed sickened or injured bodies lined the hallways. On the way to the maternity ward, my curious and wandering eyes took in everything, including the surgical wing where doctors in bloody scrubs emerged and disappeard through a single entrance like bees, the oncology ward where one could hear echoing children’s voices singing in unison, to the darkened hallway with several stretchers pushed to the side containing corpses encased in giant metal covers on their way to the morgue – I saw a toe.

Our winding and long journey through the hospital finally came to an end when after turning yet another corner, the calling card of any maternity ward materialized  – the earsplitting scream of a hungry newborn. Openly connected to the reception desk was a large room holding eight beds, each home to a new mom and baby. Halima was situated on the third bed in holding a sleeping Jamal Ryan.

Quick digression: Jamal’s middle name Ryan originated from the renowned Manchester United midfielder Ryan Giggs. George, another Mpala friend David, and I are huge fans of Giggs and have spent hours on end discussing his playing style, stats, and reenacting goals he has scored. When I found out Halima was pregnant with a boy, I nicknamed him “Giggs” which caught on quickly and soon everyone at Mpala referred to the unborn Jamal as such. When deciding on his name, Halima and George agreed that “Ryan” would thus be a suitable middle name. I still call him Giggs.

Baby Giggs. England's youngest fan

Halima was overjoyed to have company and quickly handed me Jamal. I couldn’t believe how tiny he was – a healthy baby boy but only 2.4 kg! His fingernails were just little dots of white, clenched into fists each the size of a small peach pit. While holding Jamal, I walked around the rest of the maternity room and talked to him about his future in football (haha). Simultaneously, I had been keeping a close eye on the time, not wanting to leave for the airport later than 2 p.m. for my 6:30 flight. That’s when the first speed bump of the day occurred. Some of the paperwork that George needed to have in order to discharge Halima had been left at his home. At this point, it was about 1 p.m. – the worrying had yet to begin. George called his other cousin and asked him to bring the paperwork to the hospital. The plan was to have Halima discharged then we would all take a taxi back to George’s house, where my luggage was, and then I would take another taxi to the airport. Meanwhile, visiting hours had ended so we went to wait outside. Slowly but surely the time began to creep by. At 2 George’s cousin still hadn’t arrived… however, I was assured by George that traffic wouldn’t be bad at this time, especially from the hospital. 3 o’clock arrived. No cousin. I began to worry. Not only did I have to get to the airport but I had to pick up my bags… I began wondering whether it would be better for me to take my own taxi to George’s, pick up my bags, and head to the airport than wait for everyone- it would be more expensive but at least I wouldn’t be late. As soon as I thought this, George’s cousin arrived with the paperwork. Feeling better, I decided I could wait. George went back to the maternity ward to gather Halima and Giggs while I waited outside. The time continued to tick by and after half an hour of waiting, I admit, panic set in. It was almost 4 and I was still at the hospital. I walked, actually ran, to the maternity ward to see what the holdup was. It turned out a required signature wasn’t on the paperwork and George was waiting for the hospital manager to arrive and sign. At that point, I decided if I didn’t leave by then, I would miss my flight. I asked George for his house keys and told him I had to leave. After realizing what time it was, he apologized profusely and had his cousin call me a taxi. The taxi arrived and George’s cousin and I got in, urging the driver to drive as fast as “safely” possible. Time check: 4:15. My stomach was rolling in nauseous circles. Of course, there was traffic – lots of it. An excruciating 30 minutes later we pulled up to George’s home. I sprinted out, grabbed my bags and directed the driver onto the airport. More traffic. 4:50. Suddenly, George’s cousin, who had stayed in the taxi with me (probably to make sure I didn’t have a panic attack) looked out his window at the tire and shouted at the driver. We had a flat… 2 miles from the airport. Determined not to cry I got out and tried waving down any car headed towards the airport. No one was stopping. Meanwhile the driver was attempting to fix the tire, but then the spare he pulled out of the trunk was, you guessed it, also flat. With the temperatures climbing into the upper 90’s and sweat pouring from our faces, George’s cousin and I each grabbed a bag and started running to the airport on the side of the road. With over a mile left (it was 5:00) we didn’t have a chance of making it in time. In a final attempt at a miracle I turned around and tried to see if any vehicle might pull over again. An empty, white matatu suddenly turned the bend and headed towards us. Saying a quick prayer, I dropped my bag and waved both hands over my head, George’s cousin did the same. The matatu driver glanced over at us… and kept driving. Utterly depleted, I dropped my head, coming to terms with the fact that I had missed my flight. I looked back up to figure out what my next move should be when I realized the white matatu had in fact pulled over about 200 meters in front of us. With a newfound burst of adrenaline, we sprinted to it, and threw ourselves in. “Please, can you drive us to the terminal for Ethiopian Airways?!” I desperately asked the driver. “No problem, friend!” came the reply. Within two minutes I was at the entrance to the airport. Throwing both bags over my shoulders I turned and handed the driver a large tip. “God bless you!” he shouted, “and good luck!” It was 5:10.

And there I was, heart thudding and the blood loudly pumping in my ears, running towards the ticket counter at the Ethiopian Airways section. A man approached the boarding sign from behind the counter and picked it up, turning and walking away. “Wait!” I shouted and the man paused and looked over his shoulder. Time check: 5:17 p.m.

to be continued…

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas (Kenyan version)

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through Mpala,

Not a creature was stirring, not even an Agama;

The Acacias were trimmed by the dining hall with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The researchers were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of chapati danced in their heads;

I in my mosquito net and light bed clothes,

Had just settled down for a cool summer’s doze,

When out in the bush there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a hornbill,

Tore open the curtains and looked out over the sill.

The moon reflecting on new-fallen elephant dung,

Gave the lustre of mid-day to the area far-flung,

I looked and my wondering eyes were awestruck,

Due to a miniature sleigh, and eight large waterbuck,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than vultures his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!

To the top of the veranda! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”

As dry thorns that before the wild rains fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So up to the banda-top the coursers they flew,

With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each large hoof.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

Through the front door St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed in colorful Kenyan designs from head to toe,

And his clothes were all tarnished with dust and mango;

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes — how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like red Bougainvillea, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as Mt. Kenya snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly,

That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a Kenyan handshake,

Soon gave me to know I had no reason to break;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

Filling all the woven baskets; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, out the door he goes;

He sprang to his sleigh with a whistle, and alas,

Away they all flew like the tips of savanna grass.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

“Krismasi Njema to all, and to all a good-night.”

I know, I know… about time

A few days ago, my Mom sent me an email. The body only contained two sentences: “You must be busy. No blog updates. Love, Mom.” It made me laugh – my Mom’s indirect way of saying, “What’s going on in your life? I think it’s time you put up a new post!” Thus, not wanting to disappoint, I swiftly moved into writing mode and, wouldn’t you know, when I logged onto my account I realized… it really has been a while. Pole sana. Very sorry. Now I must resort to writing a blog post that covers multiple events and topics. Something I despise doing since it almost always becomes a laundry list and I probably won’t do them justice – another pole sana. I guess if the delay in writing means anything… it means I’m thoroughly enjoying my time here. Not a bad reason, right? So, let’s begin. I’ll bring you up to speed with some highlights of the past few weeks…

Nakuru City

Jump back about 3-4 weeks ago when Thanksgiving was still approaching. I was determined not to let it pass without celebrating in some type of fashion. There are a few Americans around and several Kenyan friends who were intrigued by the tradition. I met with the head cook Eunice and the adminstrative assistant Joseph. Together, we sketched a festivities blueprint. The most challenging feature of the day was going to be acquiring and cooking a Turkey. Due to its almost presidential status on the Thanksgiving table, Eunice and Joseph were more than determined to make it happen. They put their heads together and told me not to worry… there would be a turkey. I was a bit skeptical. I have seen about a million and five chickens and roosters, but have never come across a turkey. However, I had my faith in Eunice and Joseph and took to organizing the invitations and campfire setup. The big day arrived and a normal morning ensued – full of field work and data entry. Around 6 o’clock, our group of 25 headed down in a caravan to the river camp where a bonfire was already roaring. By 7, the meal was majestically spread out on a row of white-clothed tables. Mashed potatoes, garlic green beans, glazed carrots, fresh rolls and a beautiful, juicy turkey were set up as if featured on a Thanksgiving postcard. Martha Stewart would have been proud – it was a meal fit for kings. Of course, Eunice went above and beyond and baked up a mean carrot cake and sweet pumpkin pie. With all of our bellies stuffed to the max, the crew spread out in relaxation around the bonfire, taking in the flickering flames and starry night sky, sipping wine and Sangria, and talking about everything and nothing. An incredible Kenyan Thanksgiving.

Before digging into our food on Thanksgiving, we had gone around the circle in the holiday tradition and shared what we were most thankful for. ‘Family and friends’ was by far the most said, closely followed by ‘good health,’ and then, giving the aforementioned a run for their money came ‘Kenya.’ Eh, sure – it sounds a bit corny. But, when I was sitting around the bonfire with good friends, reminiscing about the experiences I have had so far this year… I realized just how much I have learned, been introduced to, and am looking forward to in this beautiful country. Working at Mpala has opened my eyes to many issues including conservation topics I had never been aware of before such as the vast field of human and wildlife conflict. I have learned how problems are discovered, researched, receive (or don’t receive) grants and other funding, and how programs are implemented. One of the coolest experiences I have had so far occurred a week or so after Thanksgiving. I sat in on an USAID meeting for my director and took notes on a grant agreement between USAID and a wildlife forum in Laikipia. It was amazing and intense to witness how US money is allocated and the conditions in which it can and cannot be spent. There are some crazy Executive Orders out there! The Laikipia Wildlife Forum (LWF) won’t be buying any materials from Syria anytime soon… However, even with the incredible amount of restrictions and rules for tax exemptions, spending, budgeting, etc. the money that USAID is giving to LWF will be put to good use. To the American taxpayer: know that your taxes are being used in Laikipia to save land from overuse (which inevitably leads to famine and death), it is being used to bring water to places that have none where people and their cattle have died, it is being used to conserve endangered species from poaching, it is being used to create programs and solutions for humans and wildlife to peacefully coexist without one killing the other, it is being used… I could go on for quite a while. That being said, thank you. To be honest, the meeting lit a small fire inside me… that kind of excitement you get when something sparks your curiosity – you want to learn more and become involved. Here’s to not knowing where that will lead me!

hangin' out

Lake Nakuru

If I can go on about Kenya for one more moment (gag, I know)… it is absolutely incredible how a country roughly the size of Texas can have so much diversity. To the south you have the serengeti of the Maasai Mara, to the center you have the great Rift Valley and bush, to the east you have the coast with its beaches, blue Indian Ocean and marine life, to the north you have miles of desert, and to the west you enter lush tropics and the edges of Lake Victoria. Not to mention, over 50 different tribes spread out over these regions. Incredible. With so many places and people to visit, a year doesn’t seem long enough! Luckily over one long weekend, a handful of use ventured 3 hours southwest to Lake Nakuru and the Nakuru National Park. The city of Nakuru is right on the edge of the lake and is the fourth biggest city in Kenya. The park was gorgeous – even with it being the low season, there were hundreds of pink flamingos in the lake, white and black rhinos happily munching on the grasses, fat hippos floating in the creeks and running through the bushes (they’re fast buggers!), tons and tons of zebras and buffalo, and the winner… LIONS! Looking and acting like the royalty of the wildnerness, the males and females lazily stretched out in the sun patches and the males occasionally shook their manes to the tourists’ and their cameras’ delight (yup… I shamelessly fell into that category for this trip). One female climbed and perched herself in a tree. A rare sight and pretty

view of the park

awesome to see! Our hotel was in the city so at night we headed out to a local bar and restaurant and watched a few football matches – of course, Man. U. was the featured game, but we also stayed and enjoyed El Classico – the match between Barcelona and Real Madrid. As much as I miss watching American football it’s really fun to watch football and rugby matches with massive crowds – I’m still not completely clear on all the rugby rules, but without a doubt I am quickly becoming a fan. We headed back early on a Monday morning after having enjoyed a delicious chapati and kahawa (coffee) breakfast, fully rested and ready to tackle another work week.

not the best quality, but she's there!

The new website for Mpala is close to being completed (wahoo!) – I’ll be sure to let you know when it is published. That has been my primary focus for the past month and I now fully appreciate how much work goes into those really cool websites with exceptional applications, graphics, and animations.

That’s all for now…

Oooh, right. I’m headed to Egypt in a few days (sporadic, but that seems to be a theme this year) – should make for an interesting post! One more adventure to tell you about 🙂

Traditions and Solutions

Boo! I hope your Halloween was festive and spent celebrating, dressed in costume. At the very least, I trust you splurged on a few pieces of candy. On the spookiest day of the year, the Kenyan landscape seemed to be in the spirit – the moon glowed in the sky casting eerie light upon the bushes and created moving shadows on the dark blue and purple clouds, remnants of the rain earlier in the evening.The hyenas whooping sounded more like howls and even a leopard was heard around the Centre, pacing and purring.

We did not let the magic of the day pass by at Mpala. A group effort constructed a small holiday (yes, I consider Halloween a holiday!). In the spooky spirit, candy, pumpkins (which eventually became jack-o-lanterns), roasted pumpkin seeds, costumes, the famous Ghost Cake, soda, and Pin the Tail on the Elephant (Kenyan version) were the pillars of the gathering. Held at one of the houses at the Research Centre, we invited a few of our Kenyan research assistants and their families. Around 4:30 pm, a marching line of kids arrived on our veranda with their parents in-tow. Their eyes grew wide when they saw our costumes – a pirate, zombie, and genie to name a few – and grew even wider when they saw the crates of orange Fanta and Sprite and bowls of candy we had set out for them. The entire evening turned out to be a success and incredibly fun. Pin the Tail on the Elephant went on for over an hour, with each kid wanting to try again and again… and again – each one was probably spun around blindfolded four times. A jack-o-lantern drawing contest was also held, but we were unable to pick a winner… a group of budding artists had decided to come to our party. All of the drawings were so creative and unique. In the end, everyone was declared a winner and awarded candy. On top of the sugar rush via the candy and soda, my Mom’s Ghost Cake made an appearance and it turned out awweesooome. I felt bad for all the parents when the night concluded as their kids raced ahead to the village, high on sugar… I don’t think any of them went to bed at a reasonable hour.

Another gathering took place around the time of Halloween, but for a much different reason. After about an hour and a half drive North to a neighboring ranch, I sat in on the Laikipia Wildlife Forum (LWF). Community leaders, ranch 0wners, tribal chiefs and representatives from the Laikipia district of Central Kenya convened to discuss pressing issues. Although the majority of the meeting was conducted in Kiswahili, I was able to recognize some key phrases and then caught up when a brief English summary was provided at the end of each segment. It was tremendously eye-opening to listen in on the issues brought forward and the ensuing debates. The most heated and discussed topics were the drought/water conservation and overall holistic management. Most of the land in Laikipia suffered severely from lack of water and overgrazing – the vast expanses of barren dirt speak for themselves – and so the LWF focused on solutions. With little knowledge about holistic management before the meeting, I thought it only concerned grazing… how wrong I was. In fact, holistic management focuses on many aspects of healing battered land. From the Holistic Management International website:

“Holistic Management…is dedicated to restoring the health of degraded private, public and communal grasslands worldwide. By managing land resources in partnership with nature, we can increase land productivity, optimize water resources, preserve food sources, create sustainable livelihoods, and remove Carbon Dioxide from our atmosphere.”

Many ideas were thrown across the forum and several committees had planned workshops for the coming weeks. Although, like many political or community meetings, there was some useless and time-consuming banter expressed such as what the true definition of a forum actually was… That being said, I still think forward steps were made. Ultimately, it will come down to cooperation between private and community owned ranches which has never been easy – however, if the need for healthy land is strong enough, I truly believe a co-op can be accomplished and Laikipia will greatly benefit, especially in future drought situations.

On the whole, Mpala is looking much better. The short rain season has been generous and barren land has now turned lush, covered with blankets of green grass. An abundance of wildlife has returned, bringing with them the sounds I have come to love. Having never visited the northern end of Mpala, a few of us decided to venture that way for a day’s excursion. Packed with a picnic lunch, we drove along the Ewaso Nyiro river until we reached the tip of Mpala’s property. It was as if we had stepped into another region of the world. Only an hour north and there were glades of palm trees, sand, alien-looking water reeds, and rushing rivers. Enjoying the beautiful sights, quiet serenity and soothing sounds of moving water, a delicious lunch and each other’s company, it was one of those days you look back on and just sigh thinking, “man, that was a nice day.” All in all, it was a good week. 

Variety is the Spice of Life

It was a great weekend to be a Philadelphia sports fan. The Eagles pulled away with a victory over the Bucs (thank God) and the Phillies advanced past the Rockies to the NL Championship Series to face the Dodgers. Game 1 on Thursday. From the other side of the world, I closely followed both teams online while wearing, yes I’ll admit it, my Phillies 2008 World Series Championship t-shirt. There’s something to be said though, for looking up from my computer after the final scores were posted and seeing three Vervet monkeys scamper across the grounds and then hearing Swahili being spoken right outside my office. My two worlds strangely entwined.

I’ve often wondered whether it would be better to completely shut out hobbies I commonly enjoyed in the States. My thinking went something like, the less I think about life and activities at home, the more I’ll be able to learn and absorb the new culture I’m currently in. Perhaps in theory this method seems sound, yet after living here for 3 months (yes, 1/4 of the year already gone) I know for sure it’s not for me. I’ve found that my interests, habits, language/accent and background have really made me more interesting and more accessible to the locals then when I simply try to “blend-in.”

No, it’s not like I’m a caged animal at a zoo where the locals come to stare or read the little placard about my natural history (although quick sidebar story: I visited an open market the other day and wore shorts. When shopping around, Iwas followed for about half an hour by two kids, about 7 years old, who could not stop staring at my legs the entire time. Finally, as I was leaving, I think one was dared by the other to run up and touch my leg. She poked my thigh and ran away shrieking. I fell out laughing). The experience overall between myself and the local community is much more interactive and collaborative. Kind of like trading baseball cards, if you will. For each new fact they learn about me, they counter it with a parallel tid-bit. For example, learning the cool lingo. A few of my friends thought it was essential for me to learn the hip greetings so that I wouldn’t immediately be categorized as a tourist. Now, I am proud to say that I can greet anyone in Swahili and I instantly exude coolness. To reciprocate, I taught them a few phrases in English (which I hope are still considered as “in” phrases). They were pretty excited and now we greet each other in the other’s language i.e. I say “what’s up” in Swahili and they respond with “the sky.” No, I’m totally kidding… I wouldn’t give them that lame of a response.

I’ve exchanged music, movies, opinions on politics, and much more and each time I learn something new, I’m able to give something back. Kenyan foods have become routine- every day I eat some variety of delicious Kenyan cuisine whether it be ugali, secuma, chapati, or nyama choma to name a few. Although Eunice, the chef at Mpala, has a wide knowledge of all types of foods I thought I’d share a family recipe for the upcoming Halloween holiday… Ghost Cake. My Mom is incredibly talented at making baked goods (family and friends at school and home can attest to this~ Reese’s cup brownies, anyone?) and growing up, Ghost Cake held a special place in the fall line-up. I walked over to the kitchen the other day and made plans with Eunice to make Ghost Cake on the Saturday before Halloween- she and I were equally pumped. I promise a photo of the masterpiece afterwards. I wouldn’t be surprised if it became a Kenya national phenomena…

Besides the many differences, there are a few similarities which are really awesome to share. Going full circle back to sports, the love for football or soccer, has been one topic we can’t get enough of. Discussing Manchester United, the upcoming World Cup, specific players, techniques, etc. will sometimes dominate a lunch or dinner conversation and then carry on for hours after. I can honestly say, some of the most memorable moments have been seated around the outside dining table, with everyone gushing about how amazing Ryan Giggs is and someone popping out of their seat every other minute to do an impression of the last goal Wayne Rooney scored.

So, from the classroom of life: “Just be yourself.” How cliche but really, how true I have found it to be. Everyone can learn something from someone else… I suppose it’s just your willingness to open up and take in what others have to share. Pretty cool.

N.B. For anyone venturing into Kenya, Sema is the cool way to say “what’s up?” and the preferred and equally cool responses are poa or safi which essentially both mean “I’m cool.”

A Simple Equation

Remember back, when you were a kid, swimming in cool water under a beating, scorching summer sun. The water reflected glistening crystal shears as the small surface waves rocked back and forth. As you dipped your head under the water and submerged your entire body into the chilling abyss the outside world was instantly muted; the only sounds you could hear were echoes in the water or your own heartbeat thumping in your ears. Every cell in your body relaxed as you went completely limp underwater, arms and legs just floating with the movement of the current. The last pocket of air seeped from your lungs and your body sunk deeper and deeper. Suddenly, a slight twinge of heat in your lower lungs flickered. Within seconds, your entire chest had caught on fire, screaming for air. Your head spun with lightheadedness and you kicked your legs and flailed your arms as fast as you could, shooting yourself upwards towards the surface. Closer, closer, closer, you saw the sun’s rays sparkling through the water and then… air was rushing through your windpipe into your lungs being absorbed by every single alveoli and circulating through your capillaries. Instantly, your entire body felt alive again, the pain gone. Relief.

Now, imagine the opposite. Needing water. Around Mpala, water is needed so severly that the trees actually look like they are in pain. The past two days brought some rain, although nowhere near enough needed for a full recovery. I could almost see the land physically gulping down the water in the same way our lungs suck in a huge breath of air when we break through the water’s surface. The land, on the brink of complete devastation, opened its crackling dry lungs and absorbed every single pelting drop. It gasped at life, and the water was immediately put to use, flowing through the massive cracks in the ground, running down browning branches and collecting in small puddles on the floors of dusty and depleted waterbeds. I have never smelled anything sweeter.

The rain formed small winding rivers, circling around numerous wildlife carcasses lying in the bush. The numbers of the dead are staggering. Everyday, yet another dead elephant calf or gazelle or buffalo is found. There is no food, let alone no water. The yellowing, hollow pieces of grass are nibbled on but provide absolutely no nutrition. Herds of cattle walking by look more like armies of skeleton quadrapeds. They move like zombies. You can count every single rib and actually see the triangle gaps in their hip bones. In some areas it has gotten so bad that entire herds of cattle have died. Not just twenty or thirty… hundreds. This has put the pastoralists and their families  in grave danger. Cattle are the herders’ livelihood and without them, they are jobless, moneyless and cannot provide for their families. Featured in the paper a few days ago, just an hour north of Mpala, a herder committed suicide by ingesting tick repellent when he lost 700 of his cattle. The only creatures that have benefited are the scavengers. Hyenas and vultures swarm over the rotting bodies and feast. Some areas are just bone graveyards.

According to many locals, big rains are headed our way. El Nino, for one, has been forecast to hit the Laikipia region hard, bringing with it deadly flooding. From one extreme to the next. I have heard that the Red Cross has already sent food and supplies to Kenya in preparation for a washout. Several people drowned in Western Kenya where the rains have already begun.

However, even with the current nightmare, people have found optimism. Maybe it’s because they have weathered storms like this before and know that in the end, it will be alright. For me, it’s an entirely new and scary experience… drought in Kenya has a far more devastating meaning than “drought” in New Jersey. Being prohibited to water your grass except on odd-numbered days is obviously not a problem here; there is no grass to water. Writing the first paragraph was probably more for my benefit, recalling the feel, smell and calmness of water, than for any other reason. It’s incredible to think that so much of life relies on that equation H2O. We all learn about water’s role in intro biology, but the textbooks just don’t do it justice. Quite simply, no water = no life.

After the downpour yesterday, an enormous rainbow looped through the sky over Mpala. It was an actual rainbow, not just half or a quarter but a full upside down U. It started in one valley, arched through the deep blue sky, and dropped off in another valley. I had an urge to try and drive to the end of it… to see if all the myths had some truth to them and that I might find a pot of gold. It was breathtaking. Soon after, birds were chirping and a few Colobus monkeys sprinted from the bush chasing each other. I have not heard such loud chirping or even seen a Colobus monkey in a few weeks. I like to think that the rainbow was a positive sign for the future. Little by little the area will recover, but it is going to be a long, hard journey.

Summer Camp

No, nothing incredibly groundbreaking or exciting happened in the last 20 hours… why then, you ask, is another entry being posted so close to the last? Well, I guess I felt the need to touch upon a unique aspect of Mpala a group of us identified last night. Let me begin…

When I arrived at Mpala in early June it was the peak research season. There must have been about 35 researchers and it was quite overwhelming meeting everyone at once when I was first settling in. By mid-August, having only experienced the Centre with crowded breakfast, lunch and dinner tables and vast opportunities for conversation,it became set in my mind that this was how Mpala was year round. It’s easy to look back now and laugh at my naive thinking as the current research population has diminished to about 3. Professors, Phd students, grads and undergrads have returned to their respective universities and colleges to begin the fall term. Mpala has officially entered the “low season.” The atmosphere is spookily quiet sometimes, and it’s possible to go the entire morning until lunch without seeing another soul. It’s certainly an ideal setting to get work done- no distractions- but when craving conversation one has to look to other sources (such as writing on this blog, ha!).

Last evening was the final night for one of the researchers Sarah, who arrived shortly before I did back in July. A small group of us gathered for some going-away festivities including a Sundowners at a researcher’s gorgeous house (where the sunset didn’t disappoint) and a small bonfire back at the Centre under the stars. While making s’mores and listening to an array of music, we began talking about how weird Mpala felt. We decided the Centre and the relationships that are formed here are analagous to your typical American summer camp. People are thrown together in a small, beautiful, camp-like setting, spend everyday together and form fast and furious friendships. Just like that six-week overnight summer camp most of us enjoyed as youths. More often than not, the people we met at summer camp became some of our best friends, but after the summer was over… we never saw each other or talked again. Over the bonfire, we all laughed at the similarities and assured each other that we would stay in touch. At the same time, each of us secretly hoped that we really would.

I have met many intelligent, personable and extraordinary people during my first few months at Mpala. Most have moved on, but have left a mark of some sort. Many will be coming back when the “high season” returns around December but until then, the laughing hyenas and rustling elephants will be more than enough company.

*A quick shoutout to Sarah: thanks for being my running/workout buddy for the past few months. I’ll won’t let Jillian kick my butt. Also, I’m pretty sure I am a yogi for life. My iTunes library and movie folder have significantly expanded thanks to you and I appreciate the gum, shampoo and other essentials you left to me. Good luck on Christmas Island- until we meet again! To Sarah’s parents: It was great to have met you! I’m glad you found Mpala as magical as we do, elephants, ants, and all. Enjoy decorating for Halloween & of course, Christmas… I’ll try and bring the same tackiness to Mpala. I expect a Christmas card featuring the family at the Equator! 🙂