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.