Kenya: Amboseli

In the shower this morning, I realize that I need to do a bit of attitude adjustment about those millipedes, or I’m at risk of turning into a whiner. After all, they aren’t hurting anything. I decide to channel my energy into writing a rhyme a la Dr Seuss.

BLACK MILLIPEDE:
I do not want you on the floor.
I do not want you by the door.
I do not want you by my bed,
Especially not by my head!
I do not want you on the ceiling
(It gives a creepy crawling feeling)
I do not want you on the wall,
I do not want you here at all!

I was fortunate that my roommate didn’t mind rising early, so I got to sleep ‘late’ until 5:45 – no wonder I was hallucinating about millipedes in the shower! The early start was so we could go on a morning game drive. Within the first few minutes we see wildebeest, common waterbuck, zebras and warthogs. We enjoy learning the difference between the common and defassa waterbuck. I’m amazed at the variety of animals that are in view at one time: 4 lions, a herd of zebra and wildebeest, a few elephants, an ostrich in the distance, and a crowned plover.

With that scene as a backdrop, we notice off on the side a lone Thompson gazelle, oblivious to a solitary lion nearby. The lion approaches. We are silently urging the gazelle away, but he actually moves nearer to the lion. “Go away!” we want to shout, although no one speaks out loud. We are aware that we are only observers, and are not intended to be participants in this drama. Suddenly the gazelle notices the lion, and bounds away. The lion gives chase. They arc back around, and we expect a kill. The lion gains on the gazelle--the handwriting is on the wall. Some of us are excited and expectant, and others are resigned. Suddenly the gazelle goes into hyperdrive and escapes effortlessly, outdistancing the lion within seconds. It reminds me of something from Star Wars. The show is over. We don’t understand what we’ve just seen. Stephen explains that the lion was slow, and seemed to be limping a little (not that I noticed), which enabled the gazelle to outdistance it. But even if the lion was slow, I don’t understand how the gazelle put on that sudden burst of speed.

Then we watch a herd of elephants as they amble across the road. 5 adults and 3 children. It’s fun watching animals so large, because the relative ages are so apparent. A one year old is much smaller than a 5 year old. We also notice a tawny eagle, a vulture, and Maasai giraffe – at Sweetwaters we were seeing reticulated giraffe instead. I can’t tell them apart– I know the markings are different, but I just don’t ‘see’ it yet. Also warthogs, Thompson’s gazelles, guinea hens, Eland, black backed jackal, a pregnant wildebeest, and an olive baboon.

We also visit a Maasai village. We are greeted by Wilson, the chief’s son. Our group tries to greet him with Jambo, until he explains that we should say Sopa/epa in Maasai. We are surprised to see him wearing a blue and red plaid, instead of red.

Then they do a traditional welcome dance, the men on one side, the women on the other. They invite us to dance with them, and I see where pogo dancing comes from. I bet that adolescent Americans think they invented it, but the Maasai are much better at it. The men jump higher and higher to show off their strength. Then they include us in a traditional prayer. We are asked to crouch, bow our heads, and respond ‘nai’ during the prayer. I’m praying my own prayer under my breath, and wishing I knew what we were assenting to, but all is revealed shortly. “That was a traditional Maasai prayer”, Wilson explains. “We are Catholic. We asked a blessing for your journey.” I know these visits are somewhat staged, but I was still touched.

Then we see hunks of goat roasting on a tripod of branches over a fire, and a pot of blood. One in our group asks about the different colors we see them wearing – lots of blue or black rather than purely red. He explains that they are wearing the true Maasai color, and that the people we see elsewhere wearing red are probably Kikuyu who are dressing up to look like Maasai, and don’t know how to do it properly. Ironically, the Masi Mara Maasai (who wear red), feel that these Maasai have sold out to civilization, and are not authentic.

They offer us some of the roasted goat, and most of us try it, but not me. I’ve been eating the food at the lodges (except for the lettuce and fresh greens), but some of the meat looks not cooked well, and I’m not sure about the cleanliness of the guy’s hands who is cutting it, or the knife for that matter (even though we saw them rinse from some dubious containers of water). After all, at home I don’t even use the same spatula for cooked and raw hamburgers. The others try it, and seem to enjoy it. And I don’t hear about anyone getting sick afterwards, so I guess it was ok after all. Maybe next time I’ll try it. [Note to self – did you notice how casually I said ‘next time’, as if I’m already thinking of going again?]

The village has 4 families, with 252 people. So far we’ve actually been outside of the village proper. Now we enter the village and see another welcome dance. The guys pogo – the higher they jump the more appealing they are to the women. The chief’s son says he has been married 3 days. He shows us his wife. She is beautiful, but does not look as happy as he does. We find out later that this village still practices genital mutilation, so we can’t help but wonder if this is part of her unhappiness.

Wilson speaks excellent English. We ask where he learned it, and it turns out that he went to college in Tanzania. But he made it clear that his place is here, home with his tribe. Wilson explains some traditional medicines, including the one for men with many wives. As he speaks, I try photographing the tall man. For some reason I’m having trouble focusing – I’m not sure if it is just too backlit or what. The man is very patient and waits for me, posing until I get it. Finally a Maasai teen politely taps me on the elbow and suggests “lens cap”. Was I humiliated!

Then they show us how they start fire, first spinning a stick, then adding dried grass when it smokes, then twigs. I’ve seen laborious Boy Scout attempts, but this is amazing. We can’t believe how fast the whole process was. The fire is made every morning, and then shared house to house. Wilson is curious at what I am writing in my journal, and asks to see my notebook, and reads aloud: “They show us how they start fire.”

After the fire, we watch them playing mancala. Today they are gambling for goats. I notice again that it is just the men who play. The observers are very aware that we want to watch, and duck or fade away so we have a good view, but the players are quite serious. They don’t want to risk their goats! The women on the other hand are responsible for building the huts – they are framed with acacia wood and cisle, and smeared with cow dung, which ends up waterproof, and is also termite proof.

After the tour of the village, we ‘shop’ at their open air market, with their wares spread on clothes on the ground. It is uncomfortable how they do it – we get separate escorts who take us from cloth to cloth – slowly – as the merchants reach out and wave items at us, trying to catch our attention. Then they split us up and take us out back to pay. I’m so uncomfortable I pay the asking price instead of bargaining. I think it’s probably about 3 times what the actual value should have been. At first I’m pleased to simply consider it a donation to support the village, but when I find later that they are still practicing the genital mutilation I wish I had bought at the Maasai school instead, even though I didn’t like their necklaces as much.

Back at the lodge again, we see more vervet monkeys, of course. I had worried that we would be pestered by mosquitoes here, given our rude buggy welcome, but they aren’t a big deal. Yesterday, we must have arrived just at the worst time, at dusk, and they disappear during the day. We have a good lunch (in a curiously dark dining room), and then have an afternoon game drive.

The afternoon game drive is our least interesting so far. We see the top half of a hippo, looking like a beached whale, and lots of birds. That was part of the problem – once ‘E’ started observing birds, we actually sat in one spot for 45 minutes while she tried to identify each one. For some reason, the guide didn’t have binoculars that day, so each bird had to be discussed at great length. The rest of us got bored. In any event, we saw African fish eagle, blacksmith plovers, Egyptian geese, white pelicans, white necked cormorant, African jacana, sacred ibis, glossy ibis, cattle egret, spur winged plover, little egret, crowned crane, kori bustard. The Kori bustard engendered one of the running jokes of the trip. For some reason, in an African accent it sounds like bastard. Although we didn’t see a lot of animals, we got a special treat at the end of the drive, when we saw a rainbow.

Tonight they served us a 7 course bush dinner. It was fun eating outside, but with full amenities such a cloth tablecloths. After dinner we were treated to a Maasai dance. One of the Maasai came over beforehand, clapped his hand on my shoulder, and announced that he wanted to marry me, and this was a wedding or courtship dance. I replied by asking him how many cows he would give, and he said 10. I said it wasn’t enough.

We knew from our morning Maasai visit that the pogo dancing was intended to impress. This time it was actually thrilling, because they each jumped in front of me in turn, higher and higher, then ran forward lunging at me and yelling. As the youngest female in our group, I was clearly being courted. It was rather startling, but all in good fun.

As I lie in bed writing this, I can hear the frogs chirping. They sound like persistent birds.

In the morning we again have those strange black millipedes in the room, on the walls, ceiling and the floor. I chant my Dr Seuss rhyme as I get dressed. They don’t seem to be harmful, but it is weird. All in all, I'm getting fewer bug bites than in the Adirondacks.