I Am Being Followed By Black Socks

This morning I got up as usual, got dressed, walked the dog, ate breakfast, and got my coat on to leave when I found a black sock by the front door. It was my black sock. I wondered how it got there. Did the dog take it from my room? That would have been a first. I left it there and went to work. I drove my usual 15 miles to work and got out. I picked up my purse and lunch bag from the back seat. When I went to lock the front door of my car, there was another black sock! And it was mine! FGS. The partner of my front door black sock was lying there on the ice in the parking lot next to my car! What the heck? Black socks are following me. The black socks must have been magnetized to my black pants with static cling and they gave up their hold, one sooner than the other. It could be worse. It has been worse. One day, several years ago, I was walking out of my office and I felt something lumpy in my pant leg. I shook my leg and out came a pair of my Hanes Her Way, my favorite pair of underwear with orange and yellow polka dots. Wow. I was so glad no one saw that happen. I picked them up and stuffed them in my pocket before anyone saw.

Here is a black socks song we sang in Girl Scouts. The first time you sing it, sing it softly, then louder, and louder, and the last time sing it as loud as you can!

Black socks, they never get dirty,
The longer you wear them,The blacker they get,
Sometimes I think about washing them
But something inside me says, "Oh no, not yet! Not Yet! Not yet!"

Last Few Thoughts about Kenya

If I stop blogging about my trip that will mean it's really over. I've been extending my enjoyment of the vacation by writing about it. Of all the thoughts I have, the most important is gratitude. I am so grateful I got to go there, was healthy there, was safe from rioting there, saw so much wildlife there, talked to so many people there, and learned so much there. Here are a couple other ideas that didn't make it into the other Africa entrys. When I arrived I saw small billboards advertising credit cards. The picture was of Santa Claus and the suggestion was to use your credit card to make it a Merry Christmas. I was surprised to see a rosy-cheeked, Caucasion Santa Claus in Kenya. I thought he would be black there. Another funny thing happened several times on the game drives. Muthoga would point out the window and say, "There's a bastard!" Huh? I can understand almost everything Muthoga says but it sounded like he said there is a bastard. "It's a cory bastard. It's the biggest bastard." I look out and I don't see any bastards. Eventually I figure out he is pointing at a bird. He shows us the page in his bird book. Oh, it's a bustard, a cory bustard. It's the biggest bustard.

Last Day in Africa

My flight out of Nairobi leaves at 11:10 p.m. Originally I was the only person leaving today. One person is studying here for the next semester. Her studies have been postponed a week but she is going to stay here somewhere. Another person is due to go back to her volunteer work near Lake Victoria. My other companion, her mother, was going to go with her to see her work for a few days before heading back. Now they have to change their plans. One of the areas in Kenya that is not safe due to political rebellion is Kisumu - a town they must pass through to get to Lake Victoria. Kisumu is the ancestral home of the leader of the opposition party. So the two young women will stay. They have come up with a plan to go on safari in Tanzania for the next week while they wait for things to settle down. They will leave this afternoon on a bus for Tanzania and the other woman and I will fly home together. I am glad to have a companion on my flight. I am surprised how sad I am that our tight group of four is breaking up. I will miss these women. We've had almost 40 meals together now. We've shared so many wonderful experiences. I have learned so much from them. All good things must come to an end. We leave in the morning and head back through Karen to go to the Giraffe Center. Here they keep the Rothschild Giraffe which is an endangered species. These giraffe are different from the others because they have blacker fur in their spots and because their legs are white, not spotted like the other species. The giraffes that are born here will be released into the wild. I approach and am saddened to see giraffe behind fences begging for food. I am handed two handfuls of giraffe food - the naturalist calls it giraffe candy. We can feed the giraffe out of our hands. I am warned to back away from one giraffe once I am out of food because she will headbutt me if I don't keep feeding her. I watch the others feed the giraffe. Ewwww! These giraffe salivate like a St. Bernard dog awaiting his dinner. Their tongues are prehensile - adapted for grabbing or wrapping around. They are like giant black finger tongues. I put my giraffe candy back in the bucket. My companions feed the giraffe. I watch and try not to make faces in disgust. There is no way I could do this:

On the left she has her arms crossed and two giraffe are eating from her hands. Her hands are covered in saliva when they are done. On the right she has giraffe food between her lips and the giraffe - oh my, it's almost too gross to put into words - the giraffe reaches in with it's finger-like black tongue and takes the food pellet out leaving a gob of saliva dripping off her chin. I'm just a spectator here and that is fine with me. I learn a lot about giraffe in their display. The giraffe heart weights 25 pounds. In game reserves they can live 25-29 years. In the wild they live 10-12 years. Generally their eyes get scratched by the thorny acacia trees causing cataracts. When blinded with cataracts they can't see well enough to eat, get thin and die. Baby giraffe are 5 feet tall at birth. They have to be tall enough to nurse. Giraffe saliva has two medicinal properties - it acts like a sunscreen to prevent sunburned tongues and it acts like an antiseptic to quickly heal the mouth cuts caused by the thorns. Giraffes don't actually eat the thorns but they pull the leaves off around the thorns getting scratched in the process. After the giraffe center we tour a bead factory. This factory is tucked away in a residential neighborhood and it employees 300 workers. They make beads, plates and cups here. The clay is from Mount Kenya - Muthoga's home area. They press the clay into shapes for the plates and cups. The beads are shaped by many women sitting at a table. The pieces are fired, painted, and fired again. One woman spends her day painting beads white, tan and green. This seems like a nice place to work. We go into the showroom to see all the beads, necklaces, earrings and bracelets for sale. We're in a hurry so the girls won't miss their bus to Tanzania so we can't shop long. We stop at a hotel for the bus because the normal bus stop in downtown Nairobi is not open today. The President said downtown is not open for business again. As we pull up to the gate, armed guards check the bottom of our van with a mirror attached to a long pole. This hotel has extra security because it is owned by the President of Kenya. The girls say goodbye. The departure between mother and daughter is emotional. But why am I crying? I didn't know these people two weeks ago and tears are running down my face. I must be having empathy pains. Or maybe the stress of the political unrest is getting to me. As we wait I see a group of 20 Kenya riot police march by across the street. That is a concerning sight. Muthoga says that it is safe here, the police are protecting the hotel. Muthoga has everything arranged for the girls. A friend is meeting them when the bus arrives in Arusha. Muthoga calls the bus driver several times this afternoon to make sure everything is going fine and they arrive safely. Tanzania will be a safer place so if anything, I should be reassured, not worried. We say goodbye, the bus takes off and they are gone. Now there are only two of us and we had back to the Guest House to take a shower and relax. Since there is trouble today we will be brought to the airport extra early. We leave about 6:30. As we drive through Nairobi for the last time I see most yards are surrounded by stone or cement walls. Some walls are topped with razor wire. Other walls are topped with foot high shards of glass cemented in place and pointing straight up. I am told this is common in 3rd world countries where there is a big disparity between the rich and poor. The sun is going down and the streets are strangely free of traffic. Usually it's a 45-90 minute trip to the airport. We're there in 25 minutes. So we have a long time to wait for our flight. We sit in the bar area to wait. We have a discussion with some men at our table. One man is talking on and on. I strain to hear him and I strain to understand what he is saying. I am getting some of what he says. He is comparing the riots in Chicago after the Democratic convention to the Boston Tea Party to the current situation in Kenya. I am humbled. He knows so much about the USA and I know so little about Kenya. He might also be a little bit drunk and rambling too. Muthoga and Migwe help us with our luggage and take us to the customs area. I have had wonderful service from the beginning to the end of this trip. These two men have made sure that I remain safe and healthy and happy. We go to check in for our flight. After customs we go to the KLM desk. We are told we need to go to El Ar Salaam. Huh? He says it again. I don't understand. Is he speaking Swahili? He can see I'm a little slow so he hands me an explanation on paper. The flight crew is unwilling to come into Nairobi due to the political unrest so we must fly to a city in Tanzania to pick them up. This will add 2 hours to our flight time and they are sorry for the inconvenience. That is OK. We had a 5 hour layover anyway. A little safe excitement can only add the the enjoyment of a good vacation. They take my African cane away and put a luggage sticker on it. I don't think it's nice to take a cane away from a lady who is limping. What about the ADA? Oh, yeah, that wouldn't apply here in Nairobi. Ten days later I still don't have my cane. The flight crew in Amsterdam is not the same flight crew who took it in Nairobi - they got off in Tanzania. I expect my cane is still flying around the world in a KLM plane without me, tucked away in some closet. As the plane leaves the tarmack in Nairobi, I wonder how this country will fare in the fall out from the Presidential election. Everyone I have talked to about it sounds hopeful. Everyone I have talked to about it (drivers, store clerks, game wardens, hotel staff) is in the tourist industry so are they giving me their real opinion? I pray it does work out because I would like to come back someday and because I feel I have made some friends here and I want to see them thrive.

I forgot the Dawa's

I almost forgot to describe the drinks at the Carnivore Cafe. Dawa's are an African speciality. The "doctor" or "Medicine Man" comes by your table with a shelf attached to a string around his neck. He offers to make you some medicine to make you feel better and to cure all your ills. More likely this drink will cause some ills but I wouldn't know, I didn't have any. He has a 6 to 8 ounce glass full of ice. He pours vodka over the ice, adds a big glob of honey and a wedge of lime. He hands it to you with a bamboo stir stick and you mix your ingredients before drinking it down. I had a coke light with my meal. After not having any pop for a while, even a coke light can get me buzzed.

Day 10 - Change of Plans

This morning we left Maisai Mara Game Reserve. I am beginning to realize that the end of my vacation is drawing near. At first it seems like 12 days is ever so long but soon I will go home. I've been asked many times where I am from. Some people thought I was British. I tell them I am from the USA, in the middle, near the top, next to Canada. One of my companions has lost her cell phone between the pool, her room and the van. Her ring tone was a frog chirp so it does no good to ring the phone as there are frogs chirping everywhere. Last night it was turned off for a time. We thought maybe a baboon got it or it was left in the rain. Now today it is ringing again. This seems to indicate someone took it and is playing games with her. I have been told that the Maisai people will take things that belong to you because you have it and they need it and they don't consider that stealing. I imagine who ever has it felt they needed it more than she did. As we leave the park we see a herd of over 100 cape buffalo moving in the same direction - an indication that a lion is near. Yep, then we see the lioness walking along after the herd. Between the lioness and the herd of buffalo we see 6 vultures and 2 jackals feeding on a buffalo carcas. The jackals are working on the head. The ribs were already picked clean and they gleam white and big and flat in the morning sun - like huge curved yardsticks. I am reminded of the Samburu tradition of leaving the dead in the wild for the animals to eat and it makes sense now. We leave the gate and the aggressive Maisai sales women are still there and oh, yes, they remember that they are owed 300 shillings by someone in our group. I am smarter this time and leave the window locked. I don't want to buy anything and I don't want to get hit in the head again. We head north. Not too far out of the reserve I see a Maisai boma in the distance and what is that? I see a Maisai person in a wheelchair sitting outside the boma. This is my first wheelchair sighting in Africa and it's way out here in the wild. We stop at another craft gallery. Craft galleries have the most modern bathrooms. I bargain for a cane. I do pretty well. I get a cane, a batik with a giraffe and an acacia tree, plus a wood carving of a warthog for my sister who is watching my dog while I'm gone. She likes pigs. I never thought I would be comfortable bargaining. Sometimes the most exciting experiences come when I push myself out of my comfort zone. I chat with the man selling me the crafts. He has 7 children. He looks to be about 32 years old. I tell him that is a lot of children. He says no, in Kenya it is typical to have 20 to 30 children. Seven is a small number. We head north through the Rift Valley again only this time we are east of where we crossed before. The road is under construction and very bumpy. As we drive up the escarpment to the north side of the Rift Valley, I look down and behold the beauty. The valley is full of farms and fields and pastures and houses. I can see the road we came across on but no others. The land looks fertile and beautiful. Kenya is a beautiful country. We stop for a pizza lunch on the outskirts of Nairobi. This simple lunch tastes delicious! We are headed to a hotel downtown, near a shopping center. Muthoga tells us this will be a safe place to stay. We can feel free to walk to the shopping center as long as we are back by dark. We get stuck in traffic in a traffic circle. Cars are honking and no one is moving forward. I see lots of people on the sidewalk. We see lots of public transport vans parked on the side of the road. Do my eyes deceive me? That van has a Minnesota Timberwolves advertisement on the windshield - how bizarre. We're still not moving. I notice that everyone on the sidewalk is looking alert and looking in the same direction. I turn my eyes to where they are looking but I can't see anything. A man comes to Muthoga's window and they talk quickly in Swahili. The man leaves and Muthoga turns to us and says, "Change of plans, we're going back to the suburbs to the Methodist Guest House." We stayed at the Methodist Guest House the first night we arrived. Muthoga explains that the man at the window was a friend who is also in the tourism business. The President of Kenya (see photo) has closed downtown Nairobi to prevent any peace rallies or any protests. Everyone must go home. People can leave downtown but they can't come in. It takes a blizzard to shut down Minneapolis. The cost of shutting down the only metropolitan city in the country must be enormous. No business can be done this afternoon: no private business, no government business, no exporting business, no tourism business. Later I hear the President shut down Parliament today too. I don't think he liked the fact that his opposition party was elected Speaker of the House so he shut Parliament. I can't imagine this happening in our country. But then I start to think about the election between Bush and Gore. The results were contested just like these elections are in Kenya. The difference is that Gore conceded. What if Gore didn't concede? What would have happened? Did Gore do the United States of America any favors by conceding? I also can't compare Kenya to the USA without remembering that we have already celebrated our bicentennial while Kenya's independence was started in 1964 - only 44 years ago. Where was the USA in 1820? Maybe we were just as unstable as Kenya is today. We get out of our traffic jam and head to the suburb and check in at the Methodist Guest House. This hotel has the most confusing layout. I get lost getting to my room. We go from the lobby up stairs and across, down a step, up a step, across, up three floors, across, down half a flight, across, up half a flight, across and around the corner. Our plan is to go the the Carnivore Cafe tonight. This Carnivore Cafe is a world wide top rated restaurant. I try to watch the news to hear more about the political situation. I skip through the stations and watch BBC and CNN and AlJazeera. I see some talk shows and some soap operas and only one American show - Faith and Hope, the silly sitcom about 2 sisters. Is that the image of USA that we want portrayed? Faith and Hope? I guess there could be worse ones. We are to meet a certain time for Migwe to pick us up and take us to the Carnivore. He and Muthoga are late. We get a call that the roads are closed and we may be eating at the Methodist Guest House tonight. That would be fine too. Another call comes in, the roads are open and they will be here in 45 minutes. They arrive in only 10 minutes because the roads are clearer than they thought. We don't have to go through downtown to get to the Carnivore. In fact we will be heading to an outer ring suburb called Karen to get there. Karen is named after Karen Blixen - the character portrayed by Meryl Streep in the movie, "Out of Africa." As we drive through Karen, I can see this is a wealthier area, even in the dark. We drive by a mosque and I can hear the prayers being broadcast. The mosque is lit up with neon blue lights - that doesn't seem very traditional. We are among the few diners tonight at the Carnivore Cafe. Normally this place would be full of guests but the politics has driven people away or driven them to stay home tonight. We are welcomed profusely and brought to our tables where the rules are explained. Our table has a turntable with many sauces on it. Each meat comes with a different sauce. There is BBQ sauce for the beef, raspberry sauce for the pork, something for the chicken, something else for the ostrich meat balls, and something else for the lamb. We are served salads, rice and those deep fried whole potatoes. There is a flag on top of the turntable. Meat will continue to be brought to the table until we take the flag down and surrender to the fullness of our stomachs. Meat is broiling over a huge rectangular open fireplace on these long "sword like" meat holders. They bring a kind of meat, lets say beef, put the point down on your plate, and ask you how rare and how much you want. You can point to a spot and say, "I'd like a little of the well done," and they'll carve it off and the meat falls onto your plate. Besides beef, there were chicken wings, chicken legs, lamb, pork ribs, crocodile, and ostrich meatballs, each with it's own special sauce. The Carnivore Cafe, much to my surprise, has a huge vegetarian menu. I chose baby peas and mushrooms in a spiced yogurt sauce over rice. It was delicious!

Day 9 Hilarious Hippo Hygiene

I woke up feeling refreshed after listening to hippos snort and blow bubbles and make their tuba-like sounds in the distance all night. We got up early to go a game drive to the Mara River. Along the way to the river we saw 2 lions and 5 lionesses, 6 Maisai giraffe, a dozen elephants, 6 ostrich (the males and black and the females are brown), 3 jackals and several families of warthogs. Warthogs are so adorable. When they see us they jump to their feet. They stand and look at us for a minute before they decide to dramatically dash away. Then they spin around to see if we're still looking. When they run they hold their tails straight up in the air like a British woman holds her pinky up as she sips from her teacup. The difference between their dainty style and their ugly appearance and name is what makes them adorable. What name is uglier than a warthog? A blister snake? A pimple spider? Blisters and pimples don't last as long as warts. Maybe a cancerous lesion insect? Too many syllables. Unlike Pumba on the Lion King, warthogs don't eat insects, they graze on grass. They kneel down on their front legs so they can reach the grass. We saw 4 secretary birds before we reached the river. As we went along the road I thought I saw some kind of unusual animal ahead. As we drew closer I realized it was 2 Kenyan military men in green armed with rifles and standing next to a post on top of which sits a cape buffalo skull. One of the military men got in our vehicle and rode with us to the river. I was told he was there to protect us from the hippos but I suspect they are also there because this is the border with Tanzania. We got out of the van to see the hippos. The military man walked with my companions up the river to see more hippos and crocodiles. I stayed here with Muthoga to observe these hippos. When we first got there the hippos were agitated and they communicated back and forth vq=3349>98:>632>WSNRCG=32376:45:2<9:vq0mrj.jpg">about the tourists gawking at them. After a while they settled down and I could distinguish between the 3 families in front of me. The family directly in front of me was smaller and very peaceful. The family to the right near the bend in the river was larger and more lively yet still peaceful. The family to the left of me has issues. Every once in a while I would hear a huge squeal and look up to see a hippo desperately trying to escape from the open mouth of the hippo chasing him. Things would calm down for a few minutes and then some hippo would commit some kind of underwater infraction and all hell would break loose again. Hippos submerge in the water all day coming up every few minutes to blow bubbles or take a breath. At sunset they leave the water and walk up to five miles to graze on grass. Before the sun rises they are back in the water again. Hippos kill more humans than any other African animal. If you get in the way between a hippo and it's destination, you are history. Let me tell you about hippo defecation. Trust me, it's funny. Hippos are the second largest mammal. Therefore they defecate copious amounts. When a hippo has to go, it stands part way up in the water so that the tip of it's tail is still submerged. As they go they wag their tails back and forth like a puppy who's master has just come home from work. The tail acts partly like a windshield wiper and party like a KitchenAid Mixmaster. Manure and water spray up in the air in a 8 foot circle and it makes a huge amount of noise and splashing. Muthoga and I laughed out loud to see it happen. He asks me if Minnesota has anything like this. I've seen moose in the water. Once at Lake Itasca I saw deer cooling off in the water on a hot day. But there is nothing in Minnesota that compares to this. We leave our military man at the river and head back in the van. We come upon a cement post marking the border between Kenya and Tanzania. I stand on the Tanzanian side for a photo. We head back for lunch. After lunch I decide to swim a few laps in the pool. The pool is surrounded by a 7 foot hedge with deep pink (almost violet) azalea shaped flowers. A 30 foot sheffelara plant shades part of the pool. Beautiful yellow fever acacia trees adorn the ground with their elm-like grace. I can hear the hippos making noise as I exercise my back. A few minutes in the sun to dry off and I am very refreshed. We head out for our last official game drive of our trip. We are not disappointed. We see gazelles, spotted hyena, 3 jackals, 2 lionesses, 3 bachelor lions, and then a group of 6 lionesses,3 ostriches, 4 elephant and another family of warthogs. We have a lovely time in spite of the fact that sometimes I shut my eyes and hang onto the handle above my head. Migwe, our driver, wants us to see nature up close. When he spots an animal, he leaves the road and takes us to it. I believe our van has 4 wheel drive. I saw the odometer and it read over 250,000 but I don't know if that is miles or kilometers. Migwe takes us over country that I would not attempt. Tonight we come upon a nearly dry river bed. The bank goes almost straight down and sharply goes right up again. I don't worry about getting stuck. I figure Migwe can call someone on his cell phone or 2 way radio to pull us out. I worry about tipping over. As we get to the bottom of this V shaped gully, I look out my side window and see we are at the edge of a sharp cut away. I can't bear to watch as Migwe guns the engine and we fishtail our way up the bank. He laughs at our distress but I have to hand it to him - we never got stuck. I can see there is a camaraderie among drivers. When they meet in reserves they stop and talk for a while. They use 2 way radios to alert each other of wildlife. I heard too many tourists know the Swahili word for lion is simba so they use a code word for lion in case the lion walks away and the tourist is disappointed. Migwe keeps playing this CD of popular African songs. I buy a copy of the CD at the store of our lodge. All four of us end up buying a copy of Migwe's music. We are served another 5 course supper about 7:30. While I wait for the others a man playing guitar asks me if I know of Kenny Rogers. He has to say it a couple times before I understand. Yes, I do know of Kenny Rogers. The guitar player tells me he will sing me a Kenny Rogers song. He starts out singing, "Almost heaven, West Virginia." I am pretty sure this is a John Denver song but the man is so proud that I don't want to correct him. I can't take 5 courses tonight and ask for only the soup and salad. It's seems criminal to take only a few bites of a large plate when so many people here are hungry. Tomorrow we will head back to Nairobi. The ODM (opposition group - Orange Democratic Movement) is planning another peaceful rally. The president will now allow any rallies, peaceful or not. After dinner we go to the television room to watch the 9 o'clock BBC news in English. Tonight the news is delayed. Parliament elected a speaker of the house and he is part of the ODM. Speeches are being made. When Parliament likes what is said, they stamp their feet instead of clapping. They stamp so hard they shake the camera. This reminds me of orchestras I have seen showing their appreciation. I listen to Parliament for 45 minutes. It is interesting to be in a room full of Kenyan men and listen to them laugh, snicker and comment on what is being said. Today was another great day.

Day 8 Visit the Maisaa School

Despite listening to cowbells all night, I slept well. I was grateful that I didn't have to get up to go to the bathroom until morning. I was an early riser. The only people up were our Maisaa guardians who had kept the bonfire going all night. I got up and sat by the fire. They stirred up the coals and got it burning brightly again for me. The sun was coming up and the city that is about 20 Kilometers away was fading from sight. The cattle were stirring but still inside their acacia thorn fence. Camillio got hot coffee and hot water going. A good friend at work gave my a huge box of Nestles no sugar added hot cocoa packets. I have never seen a box of cocoa packets that big before. I brought a bunch on the trip with me. That hot cocoa really hit the spot this morning. Our guards looked so tired. We visited for a time and had our breakfast. We watched a blood gathering. An unwilling young bull was captured by leather straps on his back legs. A tourniquet was tied around his neck to make his carotid artery bulge. An arrow equipped with a blade on top was shot at close range into his neck several times until blood spurted. Usually the blood is collected into a cup and given to the sick or the weak such as those who have given birth, the ill, or the recently circumcised. This blood collection does not kill the cow. Then we packed up and walked over to the school. Although I went slow and I used my cane, this was too far for me to walk. After a half hour we arrived at the school. School was delayed a week due to political unrest and was due to start today but no one had arrived yet. I had seen several girls wearing the school uniform and they were beautiful. The dresses were orange and colorful - a tight blend of many, many orange roses. I couldn't have picked out a finer uniform myself. Two teenage boys brought me in the office and we went over several tests. The first test was all religious questions such as who killed his brother Abel? The second test was questions from botany, health, math and English. The boys read the questions out loud and we took turns giving the answer. We had some discussion over one question. The question was, "HIV can be spread in the following ways: a. sharing a spoon b. kissing c. sleeping together or d. sharing blood." The boys thought the answer was d, sharing blood. I agreed but I asked about c, sleeping together. "No," they said. "Not from sleeping together." I didn't want to be culturally rude here or say anything wrong but this was an important point to me. So I asked, "Does sleeping together mean sleeping in the same room or does it mean mating?" The boys told me it meant sleeping in the same area, not mating. We are sitting extremely close together with our heads bent over the same piece of paper. I brushed my teeth but I don't feel clean after sleeping in my clothes and not having a shower this morning. I wonder why these boys don't smell. They don't have access to running water. We walked through the river bed on the way here - it was bone dry. They don't take showers. I doubt they brush their teeth yet their breath is sweet. I have b.o. but they don't? Why? Is it sweat that causes body odor or is it the bacteria and yeast on sweaty skin that causes the smell? After a long time without a shower, does body odor not get worse and go away on it's own? Does our body produce extra oils because we keep washing the oil off with soap and hot water? None of the people I met here had body odor. That astounds me. I work with people who have body odor. I know how bad some people can smell if they don't shower. I drop off some ink pens for the school and exchange addresses with one of the teachers. The van picks us up and we head back to Narok and to the lodge at Masai Mara National Park. We drop Jonathon off in Narok so he can visit his first wife again. Camillio and Roland also leave to head back to their homes. At the gates of the park we are greeted by very aggressive Maisaa jewelry saleswomen. As we wait for Migwi to pay the park fee, one of the women opens my window and thrusts some necklaces at me. I say, "Hapana. No, thank you." several times. She keeps selling to me so I look away. She does not like this. She hits me in the head with the necklace to get my attention. OK, I wasn't going to buy from her before but I'm really not going to buy after she hits me in the head. Some of the women thrust their bracelets and necklaces into the van trusting we will pay. Migwe is impatient and drives off before one of my companions digs out the 300 shillings she owes. We trust they will remember us in two days when we leave. At the lodge they greet us with warm, wet and white terry cloth towels. I can't believe how dirty my towel is. We check into our rooms and have a few minutes before lunch. My back is killing me now. I always have pain but usually the pain does not overwhelm me. My companions head to the river to check out the hippos. I decide to skip lunch and rest my back. I lie down on the bed and try to relax. After reading for a couple hours I feel much better and we head out on another game drive. This park is truly astounding. We head out from the lodge and in no time we are out in the wilderness. There are huge hills in every direction. I can see for at least 20 miles all around me and I see no sign of human except for the "grass in the middle lane" we drove on. There are no cell phone towers, no electric wires, no buildings, no roads, no nothing except grass and trees and hills and wildlife. Everything is so wild it almost doesn't look real. We drive for 10 or 20 miles this afternoon and see nothing civilized, nothing modern, nothing but African frontier. I know I am in a special place. I am so grateful that things worked out and I could come to this heavenly spot. I probably appreciate it more because I almost didn't get to come. We spot a cheetah and drive over to see it. The cheetah turns it's head away from us. We meow but it is obviously working hard at ignoring us. This is one aloof cat. We end up having to drive around to the other side to get a photograph but it won't look at us straight on. We see Maisai giraffe and lions. Sometimes I think Migwe, our driver, gets too close. One of the lions is looking directly at me. I get nervous. I think I may look like lunch. Yes, I am in a van but what good is a van against the King of the Jungle? That night we have a 5 course dinner in the lodge. I am given too much food again but everything is delicious. The soup is a clear cabbage soup and tastes hearty and scrumptious. The salad has cabbage, peppers, carrots, onions and tomatoes with a delicious vinaigrette. I pass on the bread. I choose the pasta and the sauce is spicy and tasty. I have no room for dessert. At this lodge we're not the only customers. I hear some groups that sound German, Belgium and British. While we are eating a group of 12 Maisai warriors (young men in full dress and long hair) come in singing and dancing. They dance around each table for several minutes. They circle our table very closely. They sing and dance. Once in awhile one lets out a high ululating cry. We love the performance. I realize that it is only because I just spent a night with the Maisai tribe that I am so comfortable. If I had this experience the first or second night in Africa, I would have peed my pants for sure. But tonight I am a well educated, fully indoctrinated visitor and I love every single minute of the Maisai serenade.

Day 7 I Meet the Maisai - The Warrior Tribe

We had a good buffet breakfast at the Fish Eagle Inn. I could learn to live having baked beans for breakfast. We drive to south to Narok. Narok is a town where many cultures meet. We stop for lunch and walk into town. After driving on bumpy, dusty roads for many hours, it feels good to be the pedestrian. Walking along the road is what most people in this country do. Wow, it's a little dangerous. Dust gathers inside my socks. I'm wearing the sarong I borrowed so I look appropriate. We want to buy corn flour, chai and sugar for the people we are visiting. We also buy chugas (red patterned cloth worn by the Maisai). Most of the chugas are plaid. Some black and red plaid, some blue and red, but all have red. Red is seen well from a distance and is the symbol of Maisai cultural unity. We meet Jonathan. His chuga is red and orange. I buy one just like his. Jonathan wears his chuga, leather shoes and a long machete is hung from his waist. He carries a stick and a cell phone. The cell phone seems out of place but I can see that he is used to using it. He sits next to me on the van. He walked 20 kilometers this morning to visit his wife in the hospital. She was ill with malaria and gave birth to a premature baby. The baby will be in an incubator for 6 weeks. Jonathan is a talkative and antsy guy. We leave Narok and head out to his boma (home). He comments on the road. "This is a government road," he says, "Look how straight it is. The government made such a straight road. Wah!!!" I don't really get what he is talking about until we leave that dusty road and head down the road to his boma. This road is the zig zaggiest road I have ever seen in my life. The road goes right around a bush then turns left around the next bush. We can't see more than 50 yards ahead because the road is always turning. We see a row of aloe vera plants. Each plant is about 3 or 4 feet high and several are in bloom. We ask and Jonathon explains that the aloe is a fence marking a property line. Jonathan tells us to greet his family by saying "Sopa!" When we arrive many people come out to greet us. Children present to us the top of their heads. We touch their heads and say "Sopa." We hear "Sopa" back at us. Jonathan takes us inside his house to meet his second wife. Here is her picture. Jonathan was just married yesterday. The second wife speaks English very well and is shy. The women make the houses. Each house lasts 8 to 10 years. We meet Jonathan's mother. Jonathon describes her as "very, very old." (She is 3 years younger than me). We ask her how many houses she has made. She says she has made 11 houses. The Maisai have been nomadic - always moving to better pastures for their cows and goats. That is slowly changing and property is being assigned to people. The houses are made out of woven sticks, mud and cow dung. This house has a cat to kill the snakes and mice. Baby goats stay inside at night. People cook over open flames inside the house. After 10 minutes or so my eyes adjust to the darkness and I can see more. We go back outside and play hand games with the children. The children all want attention. I feel little hands inside my pockets and trying to tug my rings off my fingers. Someone starts to unvelcro my watch so I take it off and put it in my pocket. An older woman comes over to me and gestures that she wants my sarong. I say no. She insists. She gestures that she'll trade for her green and white plaid skirt. I tell her I can't trade it because it is not mine. That is true. I borrowed this sarong for my trip. She won't take no for an answer. I have to walk away or keep arguing so I walk away. A couple of older girls come out to visit but they stay close at the edge of the group. They are adorned with special headdresses and cowrie shells dangle from their foreheads. We greet them with "Sopa" too. They giggle and go away. We have a choice of sleeping in a boma tonight or in a tent. I choose a tent. We have a latrine tent too. I stop drinking water about 4 p.m. There is no way I'm leaving my tent in the night to go to the latrine tent in the dark. There could be lions out here. I decide to use the latrine tent while the sun is still up. The opening faces into the bush. No one is out there. So why not leave the tent flap open? Because after I do that the cows and goats come home from grazing. How embarrassing. The baby goats get all frisky and happy because they hear their mothers coming home. One baby goat is so young it still has an umbilical cord. Some of the cows wear bells and I hear cowbells all night long. The herd had to walk 5 miles to find grass. Tomorrow Jonathan is taking his herd up the valley. They can't stay here anymore. The grass is so scarce that his cows are getting sick. The group is going to roast a goat for us. Do we want to watch? We do. I feel badly for the goat being dragged from the herd. We watch as the Maisai men suffocate the goat by kneeling on it's chest and plugging it's nose and mouth. The goat struggles. This is hard to watch. The goat is laying on a pile of leafy branches. They don't want any blood on the ground to attract lions or hyenas. The Maisai diet is mainly meat, blood and milk. They poke the goat in the eye to make sure it is dead. It is dead. The throat is opened and the aorta is exposed. A man opens the aorta with a knife and another man slurps up the blood for several minutes. This is hard to watch too but it's not as bad for me as watching the goat suffocate. He wipes his face with some leaves. We watch as the goat is skinned. Every bit of the goat is used. They make a bonfire and thread sections of meat onto sharpened branches. The ends of the branches are planted in the dirt and the branches are angled in toward the fire so the meat can cook. I pass on the goat . I may go back to eating meat someday but I'm not going to start with a goat. Camillio makes us delicious mashed potatoes, a vegetable stew, and boiled goat with fruit, tea, cookies and coffee. After dinner Jonathan talks to us about his culture and the stages of life. He asks me how old I am. He tells me I would be considered a senior elder - very respected. He talks about growing up. He talks about circumcision. I learn that the two girls wearing special head adornment with cowrie shells were recently circumcised. He can call it circumcised but most people would consider it to be female genital mutilation. I am appalled. I didn't know. These girls remain in the front of my mind for several days. He says things are changing, but it didn't change fast enough for these two girls. Hearing this is the darkest spot of my entire vacation. I know cultural traditions cannot just change suddenly. Change has to come from within and it has to come slowly, but I am ever so sad about this. The men offer to dance for us. They dance around the bonfire. The children hear and they come out to join the men. Everybody sings and dances. After a while we all go to bed. Two Maisai men guard our tents all night to keep us safe from any wild animals. This has been a very eventful day in Africa.

Day 6 A Sexy Day

My sister and mother gave me an African journal to take on my trip. I took this wonderful book with me. The books has maps and animal lists and bird lists and all kinds of useful information. I used the blank pages in the middle to journal about my experiences. Today's entry is short. I was too exhausted to form sentences. I wrote in some key words to prompt my memory. We got up before the sunrise to go on another game drive around the lake. I fixed a mug of hot cocoa to take with me. We drove to the top of a cliff overlooking the lake - a spot from which scenes from the movie, "Lion King" were drawn. Along the way we spot a couple of cape buffalo getting it on. Wow. That looked rough. We are enjoying the view from the top of the cliff. Mist is moving across the lake and the light is very subdued. The flamingos are still down there and they make a lot of noise. I watch a lizard warm itself on the stone wall. Baboons are hanging around. I stand by the van for a minute and I spot a baboon sneaking up behind me. I turn around. I really don't trust baboons behind me. We move away from the van to take a group picture. When we return our van is covered with baboons. One of them is sliding up and down the windshield, using the wiper to get back up. A baby baboon is clinging to the back bumper, trying unsuccessfully to get on the roof with the rest. More than half the baboons are licking the van. They must enjoy the salty dust we gathered when we drove along the shore yesterday. Muthoga shoos them away and one baboon acts aggressively but eventually backs off. As we watch them scamper beside the van, the head honcho of the baboon tribe mounts a female, his feet off the ground. No foreplay. No small talk. He gets off and lies on the ground while she and another female proceed to groom his arms and legs. Cripes almighty. It's not even 7 a.m. and I've seen the copulation of two species. We head back for a delicious breakfast and pack up our stuff. I talk to Monica who is the caretaker there. I admire her flowers and poinsettia. She shows me where a buffalo has fertilized her flower bed. I can't believe those two ton animals come up so close to the house! She says if she sees the buffalo herd moving east, she knows there is a lion in the west. She says the buffalo seek shelter under the security light at night because the lion fear the light. I still can't imagine huge buffalo outside your door in the morning. She reminds me that the lion is the king of the jungle. We drive to Nakuru for lunch. We eat at a famous old dining room. The food is good. We sit outside. Across the busy street a steam roller idles, burning diesel fuel. The smell of diesel is very strong. We drive to the Fish Eagle Inn. We are already late for our boat ride. We climb into the boat. The shore is clogged for 20+ feet with an invasive species - the water hyacinth. The weeds clog the motor. I tell Muthoga that I have this in my pond in the backyard. I tell him I pay $8 for a small piece of this every spring. "You pay? For this? You pay $8 for this?" I guess it is true that one person's flower is another person's weed. We head across the lake. This is a freshwater lake. We head to the other shore where there is a reserve. We meet Moses, a naturalist. He's about 7 feet tall and a fast walker. He calls me "Pole Pole Mama," Swahili for slow Miss. I've been hearing that a lot. He knows where there is a two day old giraffe. I try hard to keep up with him. We see the giraffe lying upright in the bush. Before we can get our cameras out Moses disturbs the baby giraffe and it hobbles to it's feet and clumsily runs off with it's Momma. Did you know that a giraffe cannot lie prone with their head on the ground? When they lie down, they fold up their legs and keep their head upright. A giraffe who lies down it's head will die within 20 minutes because it's heart is not strong enough to pump the blood to it's brain when prone. Moses knows a lot of facts and he is a very entertaining naturalist. He points out what I thought was broken brown glass on the ground - it's obsidian, a volcanic rock. Moses takes off again and after 15 minutes it is apparent to me that I am not going to be able to keep up with him. I tell the others that I will wait for them to return. I see Moses and my gang walking amongst a herd of zebra and wildebeest. I can hear Moses talking but I can't make out what he is saying. My back hasn't been much a problem so far but I am very jealous of my companions now. I would have loved walking in the herd with Moses. We get back in the boat. A wind comes up and we get a few white caps. I know it isn't safe to swim or wade in the lakes here because of water borne illnesses. But what can I do when it is splashing me in the face? The shore is lined with reeds. The reeds aren't like the Minnesota reeds. These look like 20 foot high dill weed. We spot some hippos in the water near the shore. We stop to visit Elsamere - home of Joy Adamson, author of "Born Free." I remember watching the television show of Born Free. We watch a video about her life before having tea and cake. After learning about her life, I decide Joy Adamson was kind of a maverick and maybe didn't have the best judgement. I see her rolling around on the ground with a lion, a cheetah and a leopard - was she crazy? Joy was a talented musician, author, and artist but she doesn't sound like she was very easy to live with. One of my companions is very interested in seeing Colombos monkeys. So far we haven't spotted any. We hear Colombos monkeys hang around Elsamere. As we leave the building, she spots some at the very top of a tall tree. She is jumping up and down with joy and satisfaction. The black and white fur on the monkey is very attractive. I have been so lucky because I truly enjoy the women on this trip. We have a lot in common. The other three are all related. I hope they adopt me. We head back to the Inn for a buffet supper. There is way too much food on this trip. I'm glad for the buffet because I won't waste as much. I am exhausted from my experiences of the day. I am adding a photo at the end here from my visit with the Samburu tribe a few days ago. A woman at work said I look 25 in this photo so I want to show it off. Mom told me not to go on this trip. She was afraid a man would take me for his wife. "Really?" I asked, "Wouldn't you think he would want someone fertile?" I am debating whether to send her a copy of this photo with a note saying I've decided to stay and be his second wife.

Day 5 I Am Humbled

We left Samburu National Park early this morning and drove over the bone-jarring roads for several hours before reaching Isiolo again. Isiolo reminds me of the Wild West - a little lawless and a little scary. Kids beg for pens and candy. We have to register with the government that we have left the frontier and are back to civilization. Oh, blessed asphalt! I silently complained about this bumpy road on the way out there but now I rejoice because although it is bumpy, it is a huge improvement from the one we were on. We travel south around Mount Kenya again. We have a picnic lunch along the road. My headache is back with a familiar vengeance. I very seldom get headaches but this is the second time I've had a headache since arriving in Africa. My head is throbbing. I take Aleve pain reliever and feel much better. I ask Muthoga what elevation we are at. He says we're very high, about 9,000 feet. Bingo - it must be altitude sickness. My body can't function on the thin air. Lucky for me, this is the last time we are at such a high elevation and this is the last headache of the trip. Kenya is known for it's winning marathon runners. These runners are used to the thin air and can outlast other runners from low lying areas. We visit Thompson Falls. We come to the beautiful Rift Valley. The Rift Valley stretches from Israel to Mozambique. It's like our Maker took the continent of Africa and stretched the west coast from the east coast, pulled the continent apart. The thinnest part is the Rift Valley. We stop at a scenic overlook. I see a sign that says, "Do not scare the rock hydrax." There is an animal sitting on the sign post which is at an angle. Why, it's a rock hydrax sitting on the sign! He looks like a rodent. A salesman of round smooth rocks painted like the planet earth tells me the rock hydrax is a relative of the elephant. He says they are the same except for the size and the nose. I tell him this animal has fur and the elephant doesn't. He says they're the same except for the size, the nose and the fur. Later I look it up in a book and I learn that he is right. We get to talking. He has a farm down below in the Rift Valley. He has 7 children. He asks me if I have a farm. I tell him I have a small garden with tomatoes, peppers, pumpkins, onions, sunflowers. He says he has an acre. I tell him I have 2 1/2 acres. He sells his produce. I tell him I don't sell produce, I just garden because I like to dig in the dirt. The more I talk the more ridiculous I think I sound. He asks who I live with. He is surprised to hear I live alone. I explain I am divorced and the kids have grown up and moved on. He gets a look of pity on his face. He pities me. Here is this man selling trinkets to tourists and living in poverty and he pities me. OK, I didn't grow up thinking - when I grow up I want to be a single mom. But what happened has happened and I am perfectly happy where I am at in my life. But as I walked away to join the others in the van I wondered why am I leaving such a huge footprint on this earth? Why do I need 2 1/2 acres of property? Why do I heat a huge house just for myself? Why do I live 15 miles from where I work? Why do I have so much stuff? I review my life from a whole new perspective after talking to him. We drive to Lake Navasha - an alkaline lake with no outlet much like Salt Lake. Here is the lake featured in the movie, "Out of Africa." We drive along the salty shore and see thousands and thousands of pink flamingos.vq=3349>98:>632>WSNRCG=32376:456;8;4vq0mrj.jpg"> I see pelicans and storks but mostly pink flamingos. A rainbow appears in the sky. The only thing missing is a young, hot Robert Redford. We see herds of buffalo and zebra with their cattle egret partners. A couple of impala run ahead of us on the road. They keep looking back at us hoping we will disappear. The impala don't consider getting out of the road so we keep following them. The road along the lake is lined with yellow fever acacia trees and is simply lovely. We stop the van to look at a group of baboons. I get my camera out to take a picture of a baboon. The baboon decides to sit on a rock and face the van. I'm ready to click the shutter when he takes a long leak in my direction. He urinates right at me. I complain and Migwe laughs. I'm not sure if Migwe is laughing at the baboon or at me. I wait until the baboon is finished before I capture his image. As we drive around the lake we see more buffalo, more zebra, warthogs, hyena and gazelles. We stop at a house within the preserve. This is where we will stay tonight. It is the former home of the colonialist Delamere. There are Delamere descendants still living in the area. The grandson of Delamere was recently jailed for murder. He shot two people who trespassed on his property. I hear stories about the superior attitude the colonialists had toward the Kenyan people. This Delamere had a beautiful home. I see zebra, buffalo and warthogs in the field in front of the house as it stretches down to the woods next to the lake. A hot shower feels lovely after a long day of travel. Muthoga has brought two of his friends to accompany us and to do the cooking. Camillio and Roland serve us a delicious dinner of potatoes (whole oval spuds deep fried and taste like huge french fries), delicious vegetable stew, rice, chicken, chai, coffee with mangoes and pineapple for dessert. Here is another difference I see between our culture and the African culture. Here in the US, good business means making the bigger dollar amount. Reducing overhead is a key to success. We downsize staff to increase profits. In Kenya, if you can provide a job for a friend, you do it so that your family and their family will both have more and everyone will benefit. Camillio and Roland are slightly older than I am. They cook up delicious meals. They usually guide people who climb Mount Kenya and they are used to cooking outdoors. They run up and down the mountain wearing 60 pound backpacks and wearing flip flops. Politics has severely cut back on tourism so times are tough ever since the last week of December when the election occurred. We watch a little bit of local news on the television set. I read the Kenyan newspaper. They have sudoku and funnies and obituaries and TV listings just like the Minneapolis paper. I read a letter to the editor that makes a lot of sense to me. The writer is talking about the "Big Man Syndrome." The nation's political leaders appear to have this malady. Their egos have become more important than the future of the country. After dinner I unfurl my navy blue mosquito net and tuck it under my mattress. My traveling companions are busy swatting mosquitoes. I am too exhausted to worry about mosquitoes. Besides, when I sleep on my good ear I won't hear them whine.

Day Four - Meet Miriam and Joseph

vq=3349>98:>632>WSNRCG=32376:459897:vq0mrj.jpg"> Is it only me or do cape buffalo remind you of Jane Jetson too? The way their horns curl up at the sides of their foreheads cracks me up. This morning we got up and on the road at 6 a.m. I bring my travel mug with hot cocoa. Migwe checks for tracks as he drives and just outside the gate of our lodge he spies lion prints. I am so glad we have a fence and a guard at the gate of our place. We see gazelles, more dikdiks, impalas, buffalo, hornbills, plovers, a flock of vultures, and secretary birds. Secretary birds are named after the early government secretaries who wore black skirts, white blouses and had a reputation for a self important walk. Secretary birds eat snakes. To kill the snakes they grab them and fly way up into the air and drop their snakes to the ground. We head back for breakfast and I enjoy a spanish omelet, baked beans, passion fruit, pineapple, mangoes, watermelon and toast. We have some time to relax so I head to the pool. I see 4 elephants crossing the river in front of the lodge on the way to the pool. The pool is shaped like a butterfly and ringed with lounge chairs. A 5 foot stone fence surrounds the pool and is covered with vines that flower in vivid dark pink, orange, yellow and purple. A hornbill watches me swim. I look up and see a vervet monkey closing in on my backpack which I was smart enough to zip shut. I holler at the monkey to leave my bag alone. The 75 to 80 degree weather feels wonderful. My winter allergies have gone and my summer allergies haven't kicked in yet. I feel a little apprehensive about this afternoon. We are going to visit a Samburu tribe. I consider not going. I could sit this one out. I decide to give it a try. We arrive about 3 in the afternoon and are greeted by Joseph. The women come out to greet us and sing songs of welcome. A couple women at a time dance close to us and yell, "Sapo!" I get the feeling I am supposed to say something back but I'm not sure what. Later I learn "Sapo" is the same as "Jambo" and I should have repeated it back to them. Wish I had known that earlier. Miriam talks to us about her life. She has six children. She looks to be in her early 30's and she has children 18 years old. She said the Samburu life is changing. She says the tribe is moving away from polygamy. She says a man needs to know that he should be ready to pay for his children to go to school. If he has 5 wives, he could have 30 to 50 children and unless he is willing to pay for that many children to go to school, he shouldn't have that many. Miriam thinks education is very important. She insists her daughters attend secondary school (boarding school) several hours away in Isiolo. She wants them to go to college. She won't allow them to marry yet even though they are 16 and 18 - past the age most girls get married. She said the tribe is moving away from female circumcision too. Miriam is a feminist and we all nod our heads in agreement with her. She says the Samburu culture can remain strong even with the changes. The young men give us a fire making demonstration. They rubs sticks together to make sparks. The tinder is dried donkey dung. Within a few minutes they have a flame going. Then the young men dance for us. During the dance, they take turns jumping straight up and down, seeing who can jump the highest. Joseph takes us into his house. The walls and ceiling are made of woven sticks and cow dung. The sleeping area has cow hide covering. When it rains the cow hides are put on the roof to keep the rain out. Mom and baby have a separate sleeping area and I'm glad to see they have a mosquito net in there. The cooking area is inside too and it feels dark and smoky inside. Everyone looks clean and wears brightly colored clothes and flip flops. The smallest kids, probably those who are not potty trained yet, go without pants. Everyone is quite slim. They eat twice a day and their diet is mostly meat, milk and blood. They use thorny acacia bushes as a fence to keep the cattle and goats in at night and the lions and hyena out. Joseph, in plain language, tells us that the women of the tribe are stronger than the men because they do all the work. Women prepare the food, they build the houses, and they care for the children. When someone in the tribe dies, their body is left in the bush for the animals to devour. In this way the Samburu honor the dead by allowing them to be used to continue life. They feel the soul would wither if the body was left to decompose in the ground. At the end of the visit we shop. We can buy necklaces and beaded bracelets, metal bracelets and wood carvings, spears and masks. I buy a mask with giraffes. Emily helps me negotioate. She has studied Swahili at the U of M and I listen to a negotion that sounds very heated and goes on for a long time not having any idea what is being said. I get my mask and a bracelet for 700 shillings. I feel a little guilty because these people have been so welcoming and gracious and they have so little. We leave to get back to the lodge before sunset. Tonight a crocodile has come for feeding. The croc sits with his mouth open so wide you could roll a bowling ball down his throat. His head moves side to side a little bit but the mouth remains wide open for the 45 minutes it takes us to eat our 5 course meal. I have had another marvelous day in Africa.

Day 3 The Northern Frontier

Today we left Mount Kenya area and drove north and east to Isiolo, the edge of the northern frontier. We stopped along the way to buy phone cards and have the van engine sprayed down to get rid of all the dust. I was waiting in the van and was approached by many people selling things. One man asked if I had a extra pen. I did. He offered to trade any of the wood carvings he held for a pen. That sounded good. After he had the pen and made sure it worked, then he wanted 500 shillings and he would give the pen to his brother. I was suckered. Now I decide I WILL learn how to bargain. I love my giraffe though. We had lunch in Isiolo. This town is on the edge of the northern frontier. I see a mixture of people from the Kikuru tribe that I am familiar with now to the Somali Kenyans to Muslim Kenyans and Samburu Kenyans. I feel an unpleasant discriminatory anxiety grow in me. We are headed to the land of the Samburu tribe. I don't know them. I'd rather stay with the Kikuru tribe. They are very nice and they dress European. Some of the people I see in Isiolo dress like the Africans you see in magazines with many beads around their neck and notched ear lobes. I swallow my anxiety and remember that my travel guides seem totally at ease and if they're not worried, I needn't worry either. We have to sign in at the edge of the frontier. Very aggressive children try to sell us things. Children indicate through sign language that they want candy or pens. I talk to one boy. I don't buy his things but he asks me who I plan to vote for in the election. His preference, he tells me, would be Barack Obama. How is it that this impoverished boy knows about Barack Obama? I know very little about Kenyan politics and he knows so much about American politics. I begin to realize that the USA is studied by other countries much more than I thought. The road from Isiolo to Samburu National Park is long and dusty and terribly bumpy. Many times the ditch next to the road is smoother than the road so we ride in the ditch. The landscape becomes arid. I see camels loping along. I see very few people in this bushy area. The acacia trees are beautiful and graceful. They remind me of elms. Samburu National Park has a slogan - where nature defies itself. A lioness took in an orphaned oryx (kind of antelope) and raised it as her own. Eventually another lion ate it so she took in another orphaned oryx. That one was eaten too so she didn't take in any more orphaned oryx. We get all excited to see an elephant in the distance. Then we see a momma and baby elephant ahead. We stop to watch. Three more elephants stroll into the scene. Behind them are six more. In the next five minutes we are surrounded by 40 freaking elephants! It was incredible. The acacia trees have thorns on them that are 2 inches long and as sharp and strong as a toothpick. The elephants eat these thorns. How can they eat them without tearing up their mouths, throats and intestines? We see oryx, water buck, giraffes, Thompsom gazelles, impalas, and zebras. We arrive at our lodge and are greeted with wet towels. We wipe our faces, necks, and arms and are horrified to see how dirty we were. We are shown to our rooms. Our room is behind a termite hill. There are vervet monkeys all over. I sit on the porch and a vervet monkey comes right up and sits on the ledge of the porch. The monkeys are gray and brown. Some of their hind ends are bright red indicating they are ready for mating. I wonder how human society would be different if we showed so obviously our readiness for mating? Hello! I see your light is on tonight! The male vervet monkeys have bright blue testes that are startling to see. While we unpack and get ready for another game drive, monkeys get into our van and eat our trail mix. Muthoga and Migwe have to holler at them to make them leave. What a mess they leave. On our second game drive we see dikdiks. You'd think they were rabbits at first. Dikdik are antelopes that weight between 8 and 14 pounds and they're so cute. Their eyes look very sad. They live in pairs and mate for life. We see a leopard sleeping in a tree. It's lower legs and tail hang in space while it's front paws rest under it's chin - sound asleep. I understand they bring their kill up into the tree to keep the hyenas from eating it. We see mongoose,zebras, crocodile, elephants, and giraffe. Someone asks our guide how to know if an elephant will charge. Muthoga says it will trumpet first. We hear an elephant make a noise that lasts for a full minute. The noise sounds like something between a deep rumble and a motor running. Muthoga says that was his stomach. Gosh, he could have burped the alphabet. All vans have to be inside the lodge fence by 6:30. It's getting late so we check our leopard again. We see some gazelles nearby. Now the leopard is awake and searching for food, still sitting in the tree. We can see it's watching the gazelles. Part of me wants to see the leopard leap out of that tree but the other part does not want to see the gazelles become dinner. I shower before dinner and go to see the crocodiles eat at 7. A young man in Samburu dress (red skirt, white wraparound sleeveless shirt, several bracelets up his arms, and beaded headband) plays a flute to call the crocs in to eat. The river is low. The rainy season wasn't as rainy as usual this year. No crocs come tonight. We eat at 7:30 in the thatched roofed dining area. The Samburu man guards the dining room with a slingshot to keep the vervet monkeys at bay. He has a good aim and the monkeys know it. We have a 5 course dinner. So much food! The accommodations are luxurious. I must remember not to use tap water to brush my teeth but it's hard when the faucet is so modern. It's been a great day.

Day Two - Kenyan Roads Don't Let You Forget You Are a Woman

We had a wonderful breakfast at the Mount Kenya Leisure Lodge. This place looks like it could serve hundreds of people yet we are the only ones here. Many tourists have cancelled their trips because of the political strife. There are twice as many staff here as customers. We drove to Muthoga's primary school. The roads here are terrible. Think of the worst road you know - these are worse than that. These roads are worse than the road from one field to the next on a farm. These roads make your brain rattle inside your brain box even when you are holding on the handles inside the van. Due to fundraising efforts of people from Minnesota, a stone building is being erected. The school is the site of a farm owned by a colonial. The actual school is in the barn. Each grade is separated by rickety wood walls. Noise from each classroom will clearly carry through the walls. School was supposed to start today but was delayed because of the politics. Some parts of the country do not have the fuel needed for transportation so the kids get an extra week off. They have been on holiday since before Thanksgiving. We are introduced to the men working on the building construction. We visit with some children who are hanging around the school. We walk across the road to a hotel (bar) where a retired school teacher lives. He invites us into his garden where he has tables and chairs set up. His sons serve us bottled pop and packaged crackers. He gives us a lesson on the history of Kenya up to and including modern politics. Later the men who are working on the school come over for tea and bread. We all chat and I feel very welcome. The teacher talks about his income. He is getting by on about a dollar a day per person in his household. He has a wife, two married sons, a daughter, and some grandchildren. Suddenly I feel so very humble. Why am I drinking this man's soda and eating his cookies? My traveling companions share their books about Kenya with me. In one of the books I read that visits to Kenyan homes can be humbling because the less they have, the more anxious they are to share with you. Yeah, that rings true for me. I brought some solar calculators and pens to donate to the school. Other people brought things too. One of the construction workers has two very small children with him. At first we think his wife has died. We learn she didn't die but left him to go home to her parents after a disagreement. She is not allowed to take the children with her. If she doesn't come back for a week, he will send his village elders to visit her family to negotiate her return. He might have to give her family a goat to show his sincerity. I can tell he isn't comfortable with us talking about his situation. After leaving the school we visit Muthoga's family home and meet his mother, his sister, and some nieces and nephews. The compound has a beautifully painted gate. There are four buildings. One building is the kitchen. They are boiling water over a wood fire to make us some hot chocolate. Another building is a living room and bedroom. We sit in the living room on beautiful furniture with embroidered linen. There is room for 10 people to sit. On the wall is a picture of a Korean baby with a soccer ball and an inspirational quote. I see another picture with an elephant and a inspirational quote. We had a great morning. We head back over the bumpy roads to the lodge for lunch. Then we go to Sweetwater Game Refuge - home of Jane Goodall's chimpanzees. Our van has a pop up roof so we can stand and look out to see zebra, warthog families, gazelles, water bucks, giraffe, white rhino and cape buffalo. At one glance I can see 6 different species with Mount Kenya in the background. The wildlife is absolutely amazing. We stop to pet the black rhino, Moroni. I told my doctor I would not pet any wild animals but I do. Moroni is eating and there is a Kenyan park ranger standing right there with a gun so I think it is safe. Moroni has very rough skin. The chimpanzees were all behind barbed wire. When we left Sweetwater, we crossed the equator. There is a sign marking the equator and we stop at the little shop. A man named Joseph gives us a physics lesson on the Coriolis effect. He has a pitcher of water and bowl with a hole in the bottom. He goes 15 meters north of the equator and fills the bowl with water and throws a twig in. The twig spins as the water empties from the bowl. He does the same thing 15 meters south of the equator and the twig spins in the other direction. He repeats his experiment exactly on the equator and the twig doesn't spin either way - it just sits there as the water drains out. I am totally fascinated. I am so impressed that I pay 200 shillings for an officially stamped paper saying I was at the equator. We head back over the bumpy roads and my head is pounding. Is it the malaria medication making my head hurt or is the bumpy roads? Kenyan roads don't let you forget you are a woman. Thank goodness for my high impact sport bra.

First Full Day in Kenya

I had eggs for breakfast my first day in Kenya. I was offered eggs for breakfast every single day I was there. At first I thought eggs would be a great source of protein for a vegetarian on a trip. And they are a good source of protein. The Kenyan eggs look different than the eggs I am used to. The yolks are not as yellow. The yolks are cream colored and I think the color difference may be due to nutrition. I had hard boiled eggs or Spanish omelets every day for the first five days and then I could not look at another egg. Forget the protein and give me some cereal! I spent 20 shillings to email and reassure the folks at home. The keyboard is different so my punctuation was way off. We stopped at a large supermarket on the way out of town to buy some snacks and water for the road. There was a television playing at the store. I saw a commercial that brought tears to my eyes. The commercial had words on a plain background and went something like this: "Mr. Kibaki. Mr Odinga. You have the power to settle this dispute that has brought Kenya to the brink of anarchy. You, the leaders of our nation, claim to love our country. You have the power to bring this dispute to an end. Please put aside your differences for the sake of our peaceful country, Kenya." The commercial was put on by the Peace Committee. We are driving north toward Mount Kenya. There are many people walking on the road or standing near the road. Everybody is so well dressed. I see no bare arms or legs. I see beautiful dresses worn by little girls. These are party dresses with bow ties in the back and frilly bibs. Kids are playing in dresses that at home would be saved for the very best occasions. Women here wear suits with longer skirts. Men wear pin stripe pants with belts and the pressed linen shirts tucked in and dress shoes. I feel way out of place wearing shorts. Thank goodness I have that sarong to wear over my shorts. The only people I see wearing shorts are boys less than 7 years old. People in Minnesota show more skin in the winter than Kenyans do. As we drive north I can see homes away from the road but it's weird because there are no driveways or side roads. People walk to the road. I see houses in the distance with only footpaths to get there. Hardly anyone has vehicles. Most of the vehicles I see are buses or taxis or trucks or vans like ours. This is a pedestrian country. People walk or take the bus to get where they are going. The road so far is paved. But there are frequent speed bumps on the road with no warning signs. The speed bumps slow the traffic in front of the road side stores such as butcheries (no refrigeration so sides of beef or mutton hang and people buy enough for the day) or hotels (bars) or roadside fruit stands (bananas, papayas, mangoes, tomatoes, onions, cabbage). We saw six police roadblocks. Bars with spikes cover most of the road and the van has to swerve to get around them. Kenyan police stand guard with guns but we are never stopped. I hear corruption is typical and bribes are paid for infractions but our van is always waved through. Each inch of land is used. Each house has about an acre and the yard is planted in corn and cabbage and other produce right up to the edge of the house. The roadsides are used for pedestrian traffic and for cows and goats and sheep to graze. The cows here look very thin. I see ribs and hips protruding on every cow. Maybe they are thin because they have to walk so far to graze. Some cows are brown and some are black and white. All the cows had horns. I saw many carts pulled by donkeys. I saw one cart pulled by oxen. I saw lots of people on bicycles. The bicycles are one speed and they look like 26 inch tires. Many of the bicycles have a flat surface on the back fender for passengers to ride. One bicycle had a cooler on the back advertising meat. The cooler top was open and I could see a huge hunk of meat inside. I saw bicycles with six plastic pop bottle crates tied to the back fender. I saw bicycles carrying bundles of hay and bundles of firewood. Most of the houses have corrugated iron roofs but some are thatched. We stopped for lunch in Katerina and shopped in the marketplace that is open 3 days a week there. We got lots of stares. I saw many things for sale - fruits, grains, vegetables, metal pans and buckets, baskets, woven bags, batiks, clothing, jewelry, and wood carvings. We are expected to bargain over prices. I don't think I am going to be able to bargain. I am ready to pay more to avoid bargaining. As we approached Mount Kenya I saw tractors for the first time. This was President Kibaki's ranch. These fields look more like Minnesota fields. We arrived at Mount Kenya Leisure Lodge. Oh, the accommodations are very plush. I have a private room with my own "Juliet" style balcony. Wouldn't it be wonderful to sleep with the balcony door open and have the gauze curtain move with the wind just like in the movies? The room is very blue with purple accents. My daughter would love this room. We strolled around the grounds to admire the beautiful flowers. We spot a baboon scamper across the grounds. Forget keeping the balcony door open. I don't want any baboon visitors tonight.