Hi All,
I have my own world, my
own routine and my own mindset here in Kenya and, most of the time, I am
incredibly removed from the life, the family and the friends I have nurtured
over the past twenty-three years of my life. My communication with my previous
existence occurs solely through the bright plasma confines of my computer; my
friends and family condensed into postage stamp sized streaming images along
side my folders, files and photos. They have a hard time fathoming my life, and
I theirs. But, for a stretch of two weeks in March and April, my worlds
collided. Two of those smiling faces that generally appear at prearranged times
on my screen apparated to a hotel in Nairobi and came into my Kenyan reality
around 10 pm on the evening on March 22nd.
My parents had been
planning a trip over to East Africa the second I set foot in Mombasa and my
generous two-week Spring Break proved to be the perfect time for a visit. Our
adventure would not be a light one, no, this trip would cover the breadth of
Kenya and jewel of Tanzania. This post here will run through our visit to Masai
Mara, another will cover the remainder of our grand seven-day Safari, and a
later post will take on our time in Mombasa and Zanzibar. Hold on to your
safari hats.
I met my parents at their
swank Nairobi hotel after I had hitched a ride with our wizened safari guide,
Salim, from Mombasa. They had arrived a day earlier and had been sleeping off
the jet lag that hits rather hard after jumping from Nashville to Nairobi. The
day had done them some good as they looked rather chipper when I met their
embrace in front of the chic metal ostrich guarding the door to the hotel. It
was a surreal experience to see my folks just then. It felt entirely, well, unnatural
that I could have driven a mere eight hours and encountered them there in
Nairobi. It was a feeling I never really shook the entire trip; I continued to
be hit by waves of disorientation, big moments of juxtaposition between a life crafted
separately from all that is familiar with the two most familiar people in my
life.
We crashed early so we
could make an early start for our trip out to our first day of Safari. We arose
in time for a 6:30 am departure to beat the notorious Nairobi traffic, and beat
it we did, cruising through the city almost unhindered.
Now is as good as any a
time to introduce our driver and guide, Salim Senty. Salim has been leading
safaris for forty, four-zero, years. He is everyone at the Academy’s go-to
safari man for his encyclopedic knowledge, his unmatchable eye for spotting
game and his wealth of anecdotes about each and every park in Kenya. He is a
tall man, spindly with a head intermittently capped with an intricately
embroidered white Swahili hat. His face is worn like the aged surface of a
Tsavo baobab from years out in the parks; his skin pulled taut over his sharp
chin and high cheekbones. He was accompanied by Mark, his opposite in almost
every way: short, shapeless, inexperienced, and anecdote-less. Mark was along
to learn more about the parks in West and Central Kenya to expand his domain to
outside Mombasa. It was nice to have two drivers, for a lot of driving was to
take place over those seven days, so, along with plenty of spare tires, a spare
driver was key.
Soon after leaving
Nairobi we took a sharp left and climbed steadily upwards into a cloudbank. We
soon crested this particular ridge and were met with a steady line of curio
shops and signs proclaiming “Hakuna Matata,” we had entered tourist land. These
shops hung on the edge of a steep drop down into dense forest overlooked, from
what we could gather through the thick gloss of clouds, a vast golden expanse commonly
known as The Great Rift Valley. Our view obscured, we chose to carry on down
the steep road, packed with heavily overloaded trucks and Asians and Europeans wedged
into safari cars.
The change in landscape
was dramatic after only a short amount of driving. The thick, green vegetation
adorning the rocky outcrops of the Kenyan highlands segued into the vastness of
the Valley, a golden river of grass and wheat flowing between the high mountain
banks. The road was lined with concrete and corrugated metal houses and
businesses; people zipped along on bicycles laden with goods while brightly
dressed Masai herding sheep, goat and cattle stood out like glowing embers against
the ashen wheat.
The highway, seemingly
suffering an identity crisis due to its constant change of landscape and
condition, eroded into a dusty, rock-strewn road for our final push to our
first destination, Maasai Mara. Before long, our back right tire had enough of
the strain and gave out, necessitating a tire change. Within moments, four
young boys came charging out of their briar-fenced homes to sit and watch our
predicament unfold. Our tire changed, they melted into the cloud of dust the
van left behind.
The road degraded even
further and Salim turned off road for the last leg to our lodge. We dodged
thick bushed and dipped into dusty riverbeds and right as my parents patience for
the constant juddering was flagging, we reached the brush lined entrance to
Mara Leisure Camp. We were greeted upon our arrival with cool towels to wipe
away the travel grime and some fresh juice. After sorting logistics, we were
whisked away to our rooms.
Tented camps, along with your
standard hotel, are the most frequent from of accommodation on safari. They are
an interesting combination of rusticity and luxury. The rooms themselves have
wooden floors and a tiled bathroom in the rear, complete with shower, bath,
sinks, toilet, however, there are no walls or ceiling but a heavy-duty tent
instead. The tent itself is probably 15 tall at the peak, 25 feet across and 40
feet long. It provided all the comfort of a hotel room with the added benefit
of being able to have the night breeze flow through the room and being able to
hear all the animal activity going on outside at night. The tents were spaced
out over a large area, all on raised platforms, and surrounded by tall hedges
and trees for privacy. The rest of the area housed the main building which had
the reception, bar and restaurant.
After doing a quick round
of the facilities, Salim met us in the lobby for an afternoon game drive for us
to get our first glimpse of the Mara. We cruised along a dirt road, past
colorfully clad school children, herds of animals spurred along by young boys,
and eventually a small town that lay just on the edge of the park. After
crossing a narrow bridge we reached the entrance gate, showed our
identification and cruised in.
Immediately we were
treated to the sight of Thomson’s gazelles grazing along side the Topi that
stood watch while atop mounds of earth. The Thomson’s gazelles are small hoofed
animals, built for speed, with a distinct black racing stripe running along
their bodies. You can see their muscles rippling and tensing even as they just
sit and eat; any small disturbance sends them bounding every which way like a
dispersed pack of flies. The Topi are bigger creatures, but similarly hoofed.
Their skin has as similar coloration to and shimmers like oil reflecting the
sun in a roadside puddle.
Thomson's Gazelle
Topi
Warthog
We drove a few kilometers
deeper into the park and encountered a family of no less than sixteen giraffe,
noshing on highly placed leaves in a slight valley. My mom is a giraffe
fanatic, they have been her favorite animals for as long as she can remember, and
so she was understandably in a state of pure joy. We encountered many giraffe
through out the course of the week and it was rare to catch her without a smile
on her face when in their presence. I think she used up most of her iPhone
memory taking videos and photos of the stately animals.
A few minutes later Salim
spotted a sizable band of elephants tromping across the plains. There must have
been twenty-five to thirty of them with a few babies that Salim aged at little
more than a week to three weeks old. They were cruising at a considerable pace
away from an advancing wall of smoke; their large herd backed by the flaxen
fields, leafy trees and thick cloud of smoke made for quite the dramatic image.
Just from a quick look
around, I could see small pillars of smoke all around us that were fusing into
one large billowing cloud that blocked out the blue sky and the evening sun. Apparently,
the Rangers at the park were responsible for the burn. The bugs had become so
unbearable for the animals that they were fleeing the Kenyan side of the park
over to Serengeti Park in Tanzania. The rangers found it best smoke the bugs
out to keep the animals around. The clouds were ever-present during our safari
and the flames tore through the grassland. We frequently encountered large
swaths of completely blackened hillsides and plains with flame bleached skulls
amidst the ashes. As the encroaching inferno pushed along the insects, birds gathered
in biblical numbers along the burn line to feast on the fleeing pests. I can
only imagine with the dry plains and intense sun that burns like this are not
unheard of as natural occurrences.
After admiring the
elephants for a while, Salim received a call over the radio concerning a lion
sighting; it seemed our brief afternoon foray into the park was proving to be a
rather fruitful one. We arrived alongside about six other vans, one of the
major downsides to safari in a popular park. The engine noise of masses of
gathered cars really dampens the joy of nature. The lion was about as
uninterested in us as could possibly be. He lay on his side in tall grass,
largely hidden from our prying eyes. I’ve seen more activity from a lion skin
rug. The other cars soon grew bored and moved on while we sat a while longer.
Nothing much came of it but a raised head, perhaps at the newfound silence, and
the arrival of two massive trucks we thought were troop carriers but turned out
to be packed to the brim with safari-goers. We moved on.
The sun was on its final
trajectory towards the horizon and it was just about time to head out of the
park when Salim got one final call on his radio. Cheetah. He pondered for a
moment, and decided it was worth it race against the sun to see the big cat. We
came across a large blackened area with a few vans in the midst of it. Our
tired crackled along the cinders and kicked up a rather potent cloud of black
dust. In the middle of the patch lay a beautiful cheetah reclining on the
ground, still warm from the blaze. Its white coat made it stand out starkly
from its chosen area of repose. The black markings around its eyes, like ashen
tearstains, and its speckled hide were truly something wonderful to behold.
Pressed by daylight, and
park regulations, Salim threw the car into gear and we raced off out of the
park. The bar had been set high for the rest of our stay in the Mara.
We were the only people
staying in our lodge. Apparently many vacationers had cancelled reservations
over fears of post-election violence following the elections in March. Their
fears proved to be unfounded but the lack of clientele made for a strange
atmosphere. Sitting alone in the sizeable dinning room provided us with a great
opportunity to just sit and talk and enjoy each others company for as long as
we wanted with out disturbing any other guests. It also allowed out waiter to
inform us every night that our dinner was prepared especially for us, which
made us feel bad for the chef who had to get the whole kitchen going for just
the three of us. Regardless, we spent every night in each other’s company and had
wonderful conversations about home, life, my brother, Brooks, who couldn’t make
the trek over, and family. It cannot put into words how enjoyable it was. I’m
remarkably fortunate to have two very adventuresome, admirable parents; I’ve
got a lot to live up to.
Legs for days
We got up at sunrise the
next day to meet Salim for our first full day safari. We grabbed a pack lunch
supplied by the hotel and off we went. It quickly became apparent that the luck
of our previous day was just that… luck. We spent two hours cruising along and
we saw barely a gazelle. Even so, the vastness of the Mara landscape is
something we all agreed we could drive through for hours. The panorama provided
an ideal conductor for peaceful musings, zoning out, and deep thought. It was
with a faint tinge of disappointment over a broken vigil that Salim received
another call and zipped off to find us out first big game of the day.
Leopard. We arrived
amidst a swarm of other cars but Salim maneuvered us in a prime position. We
could see the dark splotches on the leopard’s coat flickering through the tall
shoots of grass. Surprisingly, it moved from its protected position right
towards our van, around the front and on to the other side of the road where it
wandered for a bit and then came right back to our van, around and back into
the tall grass. At one point, there was nothing more separating us from the
sinewy killing machine than a few millimeters of metal and glass. Awesome.
Right as the leopard went
back to cruising the grass, the same family of elephant we had seen the day
before crested a hill behind us and moved right down the road and past the cars.
Nature, man.
I’ll take the time now to
discuss the Big Five. The Big Five are what most people come to Kenya with the
goal of seeing. It is a category of animals that I believe was established
around the time of our hunting happy President Teddy Roosevelt. These five
animals were apparently the five hardest beasts to hunt on foot in Africa due
to their ferocity and tenacity. In the day of the photo safari, they still hold
a somewhat sacred spot on every safari goers must see list. These animals are:
Cape Buffalo, Lion, Elephant, Leopard, Rhinoceros. The Mara is particularly
popular because if you spend a few days kicking around, you have a pretty good
chance of seeing most, if not all, of these animals.
After our Leopard/
Elephant experience, we went for another two hours with out seeing much of
anything beyond a circling carrion bird or distant herds of Cape Buffalo. Lunchtime
drew near so Salim aimed towards a scenic viewpoint. We trundled along the
rutted roads until Salim hit the brakes, pointed towards a cluster of shrubs
and pulled out his binoculars. The uninitiated in the back just squinted and
shook our heads, what was he looking at? He whipped the car in reverse and made
a beeline towards the bushes. And, just like that three lions rose regally into
sight, a male and two females lounging in the shade, taking shelter from the
blazing sun overhead. Just like the lion we had seen the day before, they paid
us no heed and carried on relaxing and pawing at the leaves overhead. We
watched for a while, enjoying the solitude and lack of other engines, and then
carried on our way.
We settled down for lunch
under a shady acacia tree that doubled as a weaverbird boarding house it
seemed. The branches were laden with the intricately woven nests of the crafty
birds. Our lunch spot offered not only shade, but also a terrific view of the
park all the way to the border with Tanzania.
We had similar luck game
wise the rest of the day as we did earlier on, long stretches of nothing but
savannah dotted with hippos, crocodiles, a hyena and two more lions. By the end
of the day we had seen 4 of the big five: Leopard, Elephants, Lions and Buffalo.
Only the Rhinos remained unseen.
Our third day, and final
full day, proved to be almost identical to the previous day except for on this
day the long stretch of solitude was abruptly ended by the discovery of a
cheetah eating its freshly killed prey. We found the cheetah with its jaws
clenched on the hind leg of the gazelle, thrashing it around at sickening
angles. It got up occasionally to drag the body to one spot or another to
expose different areas for consumption and eventually it used its claws to eviscerate
(I never thought I would ever type that word using its literal sense) the
carcass and begin feasting afresh.
It’s truly fascinating to
watch one animal devour another, and something I found myself surprisingly
enthralled by. It seems perfectly human to shy away from such gore but everyone
around us was equally engaged with the sight. I couldn’t shake the feeling that
this is a really basic reason why people go on safari, to satisfy that latent
desire to see nature at its basest. The beauty of it and the natural instinct
behind the sight transcends the visible, visceral carnage. I personally think I
would have been disappointed not to see one of the predators take down its prey
or at least the aftermath; the Discovery Channel videos of my youth would have
me expect no less.
The rest of the day was
rather muted in comparison. We saw plenty of hoofed mammals that became more or
less as exciting to see as squirrels. They just exist in such large numbers
that they became an essential part of the landscape; it was unnerving when
there weren’t any around. We settled for lunch on a beautiful ridge and watched
a passing lightning storm lash by and I couldn’t help but think, as much as I
hate to admit, of Toto’s “Africa.” (
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RdBcfRhzzAA).
Mzungu problems. We finished the day in search of the elusive Rhino, even
venturing through a valley know as none other than Rhino Valley, which only
served to raise false hope. We were able to cover a large portion of the park,
however, and saw the plains turn into hills and valleys and back into plains,
which proved to be well worth the excursion.
We returned to the hotel
exhausted and ready for dinner. As the only guests, they pulled out all the stops
and treated us to a candlelit dinner that probably would have been quite
romantic had I not been there. The food was made “just for you” as always. As
we finished up dinner, we saw the flicker of a match and the low rumblings of a
song. I grasped my chair in horror. We were about to be treated to the Kenyan
tourist song. Kenyan Airlines plays it when you land in Nairobi and any sort of
musical or dance act at resorts will know this song by heart. Here it is for
your listening pleasure. It’s got a catchy tune and lyrics too. I’m warning
you. (
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vUrVeRGo5IM)
After the song, they brought a rather sizable cake and informed us we were now
a part of their family. I would rather hope it takes more than a few night stay
in a hotel to become family, but the message was appreciated. It was an
enjoyable end to an excellent stay in the Masai Mara.
We packed out early the
next morning; disappointed we weren’t able to see a rhino. We left through the
park in the hopes of catching sight of some more game before our long drive
down to our next stop, Lake Naivasha. We were slowly making our way along when
Salim kicked it into overdrive without saying a word. We were jolted in our
seats, looked around wide-eyed in the morning light and started scanning the
horizon. He would only be doing this for one reason: Rhino. The call brought others
and us to the middle of nowhere, with no animals in sight. The driver who had
called in the sighting could not be raised and Salim shook his fist in
frustration. He pulled out his binoculars, scanned the landscape and… boom. He
pointed. There they are.
On our final morning in
the Mara we were treated to not one, not two, but three Rhinoceros. A whole family
that mirrored my own at the time (sorry Brooks): a mom and dad and a little
kid. They remained a health distance from the rumbling vans but their majesty
was apparent even from far away. They floated along like dark icebergs in the golden
sea of grass, an image that had the appearance of a photographic negative taken
in an ocean far away. And just like that our Mara Big 5 was complete.
Thanks for reading along,
folks. I’ll post in a week or so about the rest of the safari and then about
Zanzibar. I hope all continues to be well wherever you are!
-Mzungu still basking in
the joy of a parental visit