Tanzania: Lake Manyara and Gibb's Farm

Lake Manyara! Suddenly we are in a lush jungle instead of the arid grassland. It’s hard to describe the difference in the air – less dusty, of course, but also with different subtle aromas. Subtle, that is, until we pass through a veritable dung collection. But I’m so happy to be here that even the dung smells good to me.

We stop for a picnic lunch. While it was clearly put together with great care, the meat in the sandwich was curiously bi-colored, and the yogurt containers bulged suspiciously. I’m pleased to be traveling with a group that doesn’t whine about it. We variously comment, and then move on, packing the untouched items into a couple of the lunchboxes, which our driver hands out to some locals near the edge of the park.

We are nearing the end of our Lake Manyara drive, when the driver calls out “Simba!” I was so excited I gave a little shriek (oops!) and jumped out of my seat like a jack in the box. The lions were sleeping under a tree, relatively close, yet in such dark shade you could barely see them, much less photograph them, although I tried, of course –it kind of worked to overexpose the shot. At first I saw just the one on the left, whose profiled head showed a recognizable silhouette. Then I saw the white stomach of the one on the right, and the stretching foot of the one in the center, curled around the tree trunk. Finally we realize that there are actually 2 in the middle and 2 on the right – 5 in all. An enduring memory from Lake Manyara.

The flamingos were only seen from a distance, looking like shimmering pink quartz on the shore. The hippos lumbered in and out of the water. We got a good view even from the distance. Other game included blue monkeys, olive baboons, zebras, wildebeest, vervet monkeys, warthogs, spoonbills, great cormorants, impalas, lesser flamingos, pale chanting goshawk, joves thunderbolt, grey heron. And we also enjoyed seeing some of the various trees: mahogany, fig, tamarind, and wild bush mango.

After we leave Lake Manyara, we ascend the ridge to get to the Ngorongoro region. We stop at more shops, of course, and I finally buy a pair of candlesticks and a salad knife and fork. Then on to the T shirt shop. While we are all amused by the ‘endangered feces’ shirt, we reluctantly leave it behind, realizing that we might not really wear it once we’re back home. I see a package of Maasai cloth for sale, and enjoy the irony of the washing instructions which warn not to dry it in the sun. I guess thousands of Maasai all over Africa never read the instructions, LOL ;)

We arrive at Gibbs farm in the afternoon, a veritable oasis [pictures]. The gardens are lush and colorful, and our room is spacious and comfortable, and even has a fire place, although it is not quite cool enough to use it.

I’m really looking forward to a hot shower, but can’t resist afternoon tea served on the lawn, surrounded by flowers, sitting under a jacaranda tree. The best cake and cookies we’ve had in Africa. The cookies are made with their own macadamia nuts. Yum!!!

Dinner was outstanding. They grow most of their own vegetables, and even the non-vegetable lovers among us enjoy them. Carrot and ginger salad – unusually spicy, but delicious. Arugula soup – dark and creamy, but a bit too bitter for my taste – the only non-winner of the evening. Green salad with a lovely light dressing, with just a hint of sweetness. This is the first green salad I’ve dared in Africa. The manager here specifically discussed the vegetables, and insisted that since they grow their own and manage the entire process from field to table, they can control the hygiene. I decide to believe him. We’ll see. Let me not forget the spinach – the best version of creamed spinach I’ve ever eaten – tender with just a hint of nutmeg, and creamy without being too rich or gummy. Curried vegetables for the vegetarians, and a pork dish for the carnivores. Only the ugali has no taste, but I gather it is not supposed to. Finally a marvelous lemon meringue pie for dessert --- the best I’ve had in 30 years, tangy and creamy at the same time. We all cut ourselves polite small pieces, hoping to stretch it to the 14 seated around our table, but are pleased to savor seconds when we see a second pie appear.

I’ve also treated myself to a Tangawizi twist – a drink made with ginger beer, tequila, a surprising amount of fresh ginger, lime juice, and who knows what. It is served with a salt rimmed glass and tastes like a fresh ginger margarita. Yum. It’s so good I have the same thing the next night.

After dinner my roommate reminds me that we were going to try the amarulo (remember that tree we passed?). We adjourn to the lounge with our drinks. It tastes like a combination of Harvey’s Bristol cream and frangelico – nutty, creamy, and slightly sweet. I would definitely try it again.

I give myself the treat of just lazily falling into bed without bothering to set out my clothes for the next day, since I’ve decided to skip the 6:30 birdwalk.

Today is sort of a vacation from our vacation. The day starts with the sound of buzzing bees outside our room. I’m still half asleep, and can’t figure out what the sound is at first. It’s not one or two bees, it is a convention, but they don’t bother anyone—they’re just busy sipping the nectar from the flowers. I luxuriate in a truly hot shower, and give my hair a good lathering. Then on to a delicious breakfast.

I’ve already had passion-fruit, pineapple, tree tomato juices at other camps, but this morning there is a new option: rhubarb! It was pretty good, although actually a bit too sweet. I also have my usual one-egg omelet, and a bowl of fruit and a muffin. Not only the vegetables but also the baked goods are better than usual here.

After breakfast we watch a coffee roasting demonstration, and then have a chance for a hike. ‘H’ describes it in a way that sounds excessively strenuous, so I say I want to go just half way. The lodge manager is totally accommodating, and offers to supply an extra guide so I can turn back when I want to. On hearing this option, Faye and Idelle ask if they can join, so we have a party of 4. We set off with Esau – he pronounced his name ‘Eh-SOW’, so it took a minute to get it, and then I said: ‘from the Bible?’ and he said yes.

We went slowly, to accommodate Idelle’s knee, and the adjustment to the altitude (5,700 ft). Esau attentively gave a hand at any steep parts, and pointed out footprints of dik dik, buffalo, and elephant. I politely responded to his overtures by trying out my few Swahili words, and he was delighted every time I came up with something appropriate. Whenever I tried a new word, he got so excited he gave me a high five. With that kind of encouragement, one could really improve at this language thing! We stopped frequently so Idelle could catch her breath, and he taught us to say ‘twende’ (let’s go) when we were ready to move on. We plan to try that on our next game drive if we stop for too long looking at birds.

Esau showed us a plant he called Maasai toilet paper. It has surprisingly soft leaves. Later on he took pains to identify a nettle, and tell us not to touch it. I couldn’t help but comment that it was important to not confuse it with the toilet paper plant. He really liked that. I think he doesn’t usually understand American jokes, but he definitely got that one.
We actually turn around shortly before reaching the waterfall. As it turns out, I think I could easily have made it all the way (unless the very last section is dramatically harder), but we got to a steep part and didn’t want to overtax Idelle’s knee. We were close enough to hear the waterfall. It did somehow take the gloss off of ‘H’s self-aggrandizing story about having to carry a tourist on his back for 4-1//2 hours back to the lodge (considering that a 77 year old recovering from a broken knee-cap did the return trip in just over an hour).

On the way back Esau teaches me the Jambo song. Luckily I had already downloaded it onto my ipod before the trip, so I had the sound in my head. We stride down the hill singing together, with him directing so that I’d do the proper antiphonal echo on the ‘hakuna matata’ part at the end. He takes great pains to make sure that I remember to insert ‘Gibbs Farms’ in the right place (instead of ‘Kenya yetu’).

Lunch is a buffet, but much fresher and more appetizing than we have had anywhere else. The salad has fresh avocado (from their own tree, of course), and I enjoy the pumpkin soup and the beef salad served with their own home-made chutney. I went up for seconds, but was diverted by the desserts: a perfect rhubarb crisp, a creamy rice pudding, a chocolate pudding/cake, and that’s not all, but it is all I’ll admit to trying! Definitely the best desserts we’ve had in Africa, including at the fancy Stanley Hotel in Nairobi.

After lunch, I have trouble getting details from ‘H’ about our itinerary. I’m trying to figure out how to fit in a garden tour and medicinal plant walk as well as the school trip and home visit. I finally get frustrated. When I ask him if it is possible to do the trip and also the garden walk he says “if there is time”, but that is exactly the problem, I don’t know if there is time. Finally I realize that I need a break from him regardless of the itinerary, and I decide to stay back. I gave ‘E’ the colored pencils I brought for the school, and went to the reception desk to ask about the medicinal plant tour and the garden tour, only to find that the ‘doctor’ is off today, so the medicinal plant option is out anyway. Actually, I overhear that he is actually out sick, which doesn’t bode well for the efficacy of the medicinal plants anyway.

The staff here is so accommodating. They were apologetic that it took them a whole 5 minutes to arrange someone to take me on the garden walk. I was expecting to have to make an appointment, and they basically asked a gardener to drop what he was doing to serve me. I think his name might be Lazarus, but with the pronunciation from Swahili, I’m not sure. I have a wonderful time with him. He is friendly, and is amazed that I know many of the vegetables. He started quizzing me on each one – ‘do you know what this is?’ and was truly thrilled every time he could show me something new. At one point I thought he was showing me something quite unusual when he pointed out ‘rose berries’ but he finally explained it was like a strawberry and all of a sudden I got it – raspberry!

He was excited if I could answer anything in Swahili. He stopped at one point to take a brief phone call, and profusely apologized. When I answered ‘hakuna matata’ he gripped my hand with fervor, and forgot to let it go. And his ecstasy knew no bounds when I got the verb right when he asked where I was from. Unatoka wapi? Ninatoka New York! But then I over-reached myself by trying to echo back ‘two children’ in Swahili when he told me about his family. I did ok saying I had no children, but didn’t get the agreement prefixes right when I tried to say two children. He seemed eager to explain, but I’m not sure I’ve got it – I think it turns to watoto wili. I was trying to say mtoto mbili. ( Swahili has this really complex grammar, which I was basically able to ignore, but it is much more highly inflected even than Latin. In preparing for my trip, I had bought an introductory Swahili book and tape, of which I reviewed the first chapter before I gave up and settled for the “In flight Swahili” CD, which was much more my speed, since it just teaches you a few simple things to say right away. )

And now I’m sitting on a lounge chair in the garden writing my journal, and listening to the various birds. I’m looking forward to afternoon tea. This break is great. Gibbs farm is a wonderful place, and I’ve truly enjoyed my day of respite. The gardens are lush and green, with colorful flowers and abundant birds. It feels like a different planet compared to the dusty roads.

Although I’ve appreciated NOT thinking about work, or being in touch with anyone from home, I decide to send one group email to my friends and relatives, just so they know that I’m safe and happy. I assumed the computer would be in an office, or something, but actually it is a laptop with a wireless connection, so they ask me where I want to use it, and I end up in the garden, typing while overlooking the coffee plantation, and listening to the birds. It all feels sort of unreal. Africa is a different world from being at home, but Gibbs farm is yet a different world from everything else we’ve seen, sort of like a really good dream.

Today, tea includes fresh peanut butter cookies and pound cake. It appears as if by magic. Again, we eat in the garden, serenaded by birds. We see a red bird with a long, long tail. We are interrupted by a shower, so I grab our tea tray and run up to the patio which has large sun umbrellas which will also work as rain shields. The staff is busy running around and rescuing all the seat cushions, and are almost amazed that I figured out how to carry the little tea tray all by myself. ;)

After the tea, you wouldn’t think that I would have an appetite for dinner, but you would be wrong, because dinner is again delicious. The waiters have an unusual and appealing serving style. Each waiter carries two large bowls of food, and offers you each bowl in turn, while holding the bowl in the opposite hand up at head height. It is sort of a combination of a dance and lifting weights. Again, each dish is excellent.

All night long we hear rain pounding on the roof, interspersed with the sound of animals running back and forth. It sounds like a convention overhead. Running footsteps, growls, squeals, and chatters. Later we are told that it was probably bushbabies on the roof (we had seen one near the reception desk).