Secrets to the chaos of Africa

You know that Africa has gotten in your blood when:
You bargain for everything you buy.
You’re excited when you realize that the swollen blister on you foot isn’t a sand flea with its egg sack.
You know all the cows in town and pet them frequently.
You look forward to chapatti for dinner every night.
You appreciate every last drop of water you have access to.
You dance to music whenever you hear it.
You rely on the birds to be your alarm clock at 6am.
Your exercise involves chasing baboons away from things.
You have a celebration whenever there is a big rainstorm.
And when you speak Swahili to dogs and cats.

The tiny rural village of Rhotia felt like civilization after returning from the Serengeti. My little thatched roof banda seemed like home and I was relieved to be able to crawl up to my top bunk and securely tuck in my mosquito net. Being so high off the ground has helped me convince myself that giant insects can’t reach me. The 5 inch long spiders can’t get to me up here I continually tell myself when the electricity shuts off.
From the day we got back we were in a time crunch to get going on our long awaited directed research projects. Throughout the semester we worked on countless small research exercises to help us prepare for our research projects with the Tanzanian professors – which take over our lives for the last month and a half of the semester. I chose to do environmental policy research on tourism as a package incentive to communities to participate in wildlife conservation. The high rate of poverty in this region has caused people to focus on basic needs rather than conservation, which has created an ongoing struggle to protect the wildlife. The ecosystem that we are working in has the second highest density of mega fauna in the world – which makes it a major tourist attraction and is extremely important to the Tanzanian economy. The best way to go about preserving this area is to spread knowledge of the importance of conservation and one of our main goals is to find ways that local people can access knowledge through the tourist industry. My professor – John Mwamhanga – has worked for the Tanzanian government for 20 years and wanted to try doing research with American college students for a year.
Collecting field data in Africa was exhausting because of the unavoidable heat, dust and chaos, but at the same time it was extremely exhilarating because we constantly found ourselves on unexpected adventures. Nine of us worked together to put together a questionnaire that satisfied all of our data needs so that we could collect as much data as possible. For 10 days we woke up at the crack of dawn, split up in pairs, and walked throughout the villages and towns of the Tarangire-Manyara region of Northern Tanzania. A local translator accompanied each of us and helped find people of every age, tribe, and profession to interview (which allowed me to meet people and go to places that I wouldn’t have been able to in any other circumstance). I talked with everyone from lodge managers, to rural farmers, to teachers, to duka shop owners, to wood carvers, etc. - all of which slowly helped me understand the secrets to the chaos of Africa.
My questionnaire answered more than just simple questions for me and taught me an incredible amount about the complexities of rural Africa. However, there is one more thing that I am extremely curious to know, that I don’t know how to go about finding the answer to. What do people think when a 20-year-old American girl asks them about their professions, lives, backgrounds etc.? Do they know that I’m trying to help and that I’m not just walking money (which is how tourists come off here)? Do people realize that I come from a place that is different from rural Tanzania in every way possible and that no matter how long I spend in Africa I’m usually completely out of my comfort zone? Does anyone else realize that I’m being completely hypocritical by telling people to not cut down trees when my carbon footprint from my plane flight here is worse for the environment than probably anything they will ever do? And lastly, what would I think if a group of Tanzanians flew to the U.S. to told me not to drive my car anymore?
Currently my research paper is in the 45pg headache stage and I would do anything to go back out into the chaos of Africa instead of stare at my computer. I have spent 13 weeks in Africa, and I have one more week left. The last day of the last week I will present all of my research to the entire community. I would like to think that it will go well, but all I can do is expect the unexpected.

My heart and eyes go missing in the Serengeti (Part 2)

Strangely enough, the week I was blind (and blindfolded) in the Serengeti I must have been significantly less intimidating because all the Tanzanians I encountered seemed to go out of their way to talk to me.Unlike Kenyans, many Tanzanians are shy, reserved and usually don’t like to approach foreigners. Since I couldn’t do many of the activities with the rest of the group I ended up spending hours and hours just talking to the Tanzanian staff and learning all about their lives. Askari Bora (as he likes to be called) dresses in a trench coat and always wears a ski hat with a spider on it. He can detect that there is a lion or elephant within 300 meters just by sounds and he can track any animal just by a few footprints. As far as I can tell there is not a single animal that scares him no matter how big, poisonous, or fast they are. He is known to actually chase hyenas out of the camp and slap them on the head like bad dogs. Also, he loves to imitate lion growls (especially when they are in our campsite), and will actually go up to elephants and greet them with his big metal flashlight. Then there is Arthur, our head cook, who is one of the most obsequious people I have ever met. “What ever you want I will make you, no problem, no problem,” he always says. Somebody took him up on this once and asked for pizza. The next day we had a peculiar looking pizza that toppled 4 inches high with green beans, pineapple, spinach, carrots, tomatoes, onions, peppers, kale, squash, zucchini, banana, lentils, cinnamon, and about anything else you can find in our kitchen. “Mmm, just like at home!” we told him. Then there is Moses who helps out with anything and everything. He speaks 6 languages fluently (including several tribal languages, Swahili, and English) and will always convince you that you’re in a good mood. He couldn’t afford to go to college but knows more about chemistry and biology then most of us and is obviously extremely smart. He can fix all the cars and can solve just about any problem that Africa puts on his plate.

Throughout the week my eyesight slowly but surely recovered and I could occasionally take off my blindfold and barely open my blurry eyes. It was frustrating not being able to see lions when I knew they were only a few meters outside my car, but we did plenty of other interesting things that kept my excitement fired up. One afternoon I got to visit the famous “Lion House” where the top research on lions has been conducted for the past 50 years. The researchers there explained their work on carnivore interactions and how they have over 300 camouflage cameras placed throughout the park to record lion behavior (Tanzania has 30-50% of the lions in the world). Another day we had a lecture from the head vet of the Serengeti and learned about all the horrible diseases have passed through the area in the past century and how they have affected the animal populations. In the 60’s and 70’s Rinderpest killed off around 1.5 million wildebeest!
The last day in the Serengeti I was able to occasionally take off my blindfold and see things. One of my professors (who had lived in the Serengeti for several years researching lions) claimed that he was going to take me on the game-drive of a lifetime to make up for the week. He drove me to a herd of elephants with a tiny baby that was less than a year old. It looked so wobbly as it threw its trunk around and tried to play with its siblings. Soon after that we drove by a pride of 10 lions that were all sleeping in a tree. 4 of them were tightly snuggled against each other like a pile of stuffed animals. Not long after that we saw a beautiful leopard that was gracefully climbing a tree. It was the most rewarding feeling to have my vision back and see all these astonishing things and it put me in the best mood I think I have ever been in.
On the long drive home I mentioned to a friend that I had never appreciated being able to see things so much and it felt like I had brand new eyes. Living so minimally has made us all realize the value of the simplest things in life – like vision, and clean water, and milk (or any other refrigerated food), and couches, and toilet seats. Many people look at Africa as a place that is full of problems and discomforts – and in some cases it can certainly feel like that – but in the end it is the people that pick up your head and make you see things with a new heart, even when you are completely blind.

My heart and eyes go missing in the Serengeti (Part 1)

Before I could fully comprehend where I was going we were in the land cruisers again (at 5am), packed to the brim with camping gear, food, and water for the next week as we bumped over the rough, dusty roads. I wasn’t in a good mood because my eyes could hardly open I was so tired and I had an extremely long day ahead. From the minute I woke up I could tell something was wrong because my eyes were bloodshot and slightly swollen, but I didn’t have time to deal with it (which I later deeply regretted).
Driving throughout Africa is an adventure in itself because it’s almost inevitable to not have your car break down at least once. The car rides that you think are going to take 3 hours end up being 6 hours. I have spent many hours sitting on the side of the dusty roads bathing myself in sunscreen, dripping in sweat, and discussing what of ice cream I would eat if an American grocery store magically appeared in front of me. Cold food is something I have forgotten the feel of… Anyway, after about 4 hours of driving through the Great Rift Valley we stopped at Olduvai Gorge, which is where the famous anthropologist Louis Leaky discovered that humans evolved in Africa. It has been known as the world’s hominid fossil treasure chest ever since. The ancient volcanic ash in the gorge preserved fossils better than anywhere else and has exposed many human bones from numerous time periods. It is places like these that give Africa the timeless, esoteric thrill that many people crave.
The Serengeti is a sea of grass that is so vast that if you squint your eyes it looks like you can see the curves of the earth. There are hundreds of species of mammals spread across these plains and the circle of life is more apparent than anywhere else. When we arrived at our campsite we had to scare a herd of elephants away so that we could set up camp. I could feel the energy of the wildlife in the trees around me and there was never a moment of silence. Huge birds were always calling and singing, monkey’s screaming, elephants trumpeting, buffalo crunching and insects humming. We set up canvas tents and were reminded that if we weren’t careful when we went to the bathroom we would probably be trampled or eaten. As the sun vanished over the horizon my eyes slowly got more and more swollen and blurry until I couldn’t see anything. I thought I just needed rest and I would get better…
That night I didn’t sleep at all. My eyes felt like somebody was squirting acid into them, and lions were roaring less than 20 meters from my tent throughout the night. At one point the whole camp was awake listening to them and nervously whispering. They night askaris did the best they could to scare the hyenas away, but they chewed apart everything that was left out. An elephant decided it wanted the fruit from our steel food box and made a ruckus trying to break into it.
The next morning our alarms went off at 5am because we were doing an exercise on carnivore interactions (they are most active at dawn). I tried to get myself up in the dark but quickly realized that I was completely blind and my eyes were crusted over with puss. The pain was overwhelming. Everyone was in a craze to get going as fast as possible so I was handed a water bottle and told to just lie down until they returned. I wasn’t able to sleep so I tried to distract myself by trying to identify all the sounds around me. After about a half hour I felt liquid drip down my face and tasted blood in my mouth. I sat up and blood gushed out of both nostrils all over my clothes. I frantically felt around the tent for wet wipes and eventually ended up taking off the shirt I was wearing to stop blood from getting everywhere. After a few minutes I found the door of the tent and got out. I called out in Swahili and English to see if anybody was around to help, but nobody answered. Frustrated, blind, covered in blood, and helpless, I sat down with my back against the tent and realized that I was perfect bate for all the lions that had been wandering around our campsite. After what seemed like an hour I heard another tent unzip and realized that somebody was walking toward me. The askaris and cooks were taking a nap while everyone was gone and were completely unaware that I was left behind. They helped me to the bathroom and continually asked me what happened. A few of them sat me in a chair by the fire and I tried to explain what was wrong in Swahili. One of them came over and opened one of my eyes to see if there were any insects in them. Luckily he didn’t find anything…
Everyone was completely shocked at what I looked like when they returned and told me I needed to get to a doctor. I was led to the land cruiser and blind folded because the sun made my eyes hurt even more. I overheard my professors say that the nearest clinic was 6 hours away but there was sometimes a doctor at one of the fancy lodges within the park. We drove for an hour over extremely bumpy, windy roads and I got so carsick from being blind folded and full of blood that I started vomiting. I was on my last straw. I could smell the blood and vomit on me (which attracted tons of biting tsetse flies) and my eyes were throbbing with pain. It felt like some sort of awful joke to be blindfolded as I drove across one of the most incredible places on earth in such misery. I was scared to death that the doctor was going to tell me that I would be blind forever and that they couldn’t figure out what was wrong.
After another half hour of misery we arrived at the lodge and I was taken into a dark room. The doctor forced open my eyes, scraped the puss away, and used a bright light to inspect them. He then dripped something in each eye that hurt so much it felt like somebody was taking out my eyes with needles. My arms and legs were shaking from pain and I could feel tears oozing out of my eyes as I clenched my mouth so I wouldn’t yell. He told me I had bad bacterial infections in my eyes that were spreading extremely quickly and that I needed to be put on antibiotics immediately. I was so happy to hear that it could be cured and that I would be able to see again.
When I got back to camp everyone was extremely sympathetic and did everything possible to help me. People had to help me eat, walk, dress, get in and out of the cars etc. My imagination went crazy during this time because all my other senses were working over time to figure out my exotic surroundings. It made me sad to think that most Africans don’t have access to simple medicine like this and have to deal with the horrible consequences of infections – like going blind.
This is one of the few times in my life where I have continually had to convince myself to make it through the day and have a good attitude. I got to experience the Serengeti through sounds and smells though, which gave me a perspective that I will never forget.

Full time safari duty

It is hard work being on full time safari duty! Since the day we arrived in Tanzania we have been leaving camp at first light and familiarizing ourselves with the famous national parks that are practically our next-door neighbors. All day we stick our heads out the sunroofs (safari hats, binoculars and all) and do a variety of research exercises on various aspects of the parks as well as the incredible diversity of mammals. One morning we spent 3 hours recording all the social interactions in a troop of about 50 baboons. As far as I can tell the drama in a baboon’s life is extraordinarily similar to the drama in a human’s life. Africa may be getting to my head, but they seem to love, gossip, play, show off, etc. and have a variety of emotions and personalities.
On election day the streets were almost empty because everyone had traveled to the voting booths. Unfortunately the same party won with about 60% of the votes, but it was by far the closest election Tanzania has ever had. The current president will remain in office and will hopefully be discouraged from his plan to build a highway right through the middle of the Serengeti (which would undoubtedly ruin the entire ecosystem).
One day we went to an incredible volcanic crater called Ngorongoro that is approximately 100km2 and has the highest density of megafauna in the world! The huge walls of the crater create incredible scenery for this tiny ecosystem and made me feel like I was living in prehistoric times. There is also an extremely dense carnivore population and throughout the day I could hardly keep up with the lions we drove by!
By the end of the week we were all exhausted to the point where people were falling asleep in their dinners. It was a bad time to be exhausted because we had to prepare for our weeklong excursion to Serengeti National Park – which is known to be the most thrilling adventure of the semester. The great Serengeti spreads throughout Tanzania and Southern Kenya and is where the great migration takes place. Every year 1.5 million wildebeest (along with zebra and gazelle) follow the rains of east Africa in a race to survive. This flow of energy has created one of the most incredible bionetworks on the planet and makes it feel timeless. As one scientist put it “the only living things which look as if they really belong to the Serengeti are the wild animals. Between the animals and Africa there is an understanding that the human beings have not yet earned." Also, the top research on lions, cheetahs, giraffe and many other animals is conducted in this area of Africa. I could hardly wait for the adventure to begin.

In the Land of Baobab Trees

The morning I left Kenya Mt. Kilimanjaro made its best appearance to say goodbye. There was not a cloud in the sky and it looked more majestic than I had ever seen it before. The small glaciers on top looked whiter than ever and I could clearly see all the steep ravines at the top. We piled in a bus at 6am and drove out of Maasailand, up into the lush forests that go part way up the side of Mt. Kilimanjaro. The road winded through banana tree forests and villages with small thatched roof huts. As we approached Arusha, which is a city in Tanzania, it was clear that the presidential election was approaching. Tanzania got its independence in 1962 and remained a one-party democracy until 1992. For the last 23 years the government has been dominated by a party called the Chama Cha Mapinduzi, which abandoned the former socialist ideology and has promoted a free market economy. Although they have been unsuccessful in promoting much economic development, Tanzania has remained a stable democracy which little political unrest. This is the first election where an opposition party actually has a decent chance of wining, which is creating a great deal of commotion throughout the country. There were pictures of the two presidential candidates posted everywhere and rallies were going on throughout the main streets.
After nine hours gazing out of the window of the bus my head started to bob up and down as I struggled to stay awake. Through my half alert conscience I heard the words “Mto Wa Mbu” come out of the bus driver’s mouth. The words electrified my mind and I immediately stuck my head out the window into the warm breeze as chills ran down my back. Ten years ago Luke and I came down with Malaria in this small town – which ironically means "River of Mosquitoes". I still had a blurred memory of what it looked like and it was incredible to piece it all back together as we drove through town. On the left was the beautiful Lake Manyara with thousands of flamingoes, and up ahead was the beginning of the escarpment that leads to the highlands. We even drove past the room of the clinic that I spend the most painful week of my life. I never would have thought that ten years from then I would be moving back and doing research on the ecology of the surrounding area.
My new home is located near a small village called Rhotia and looks out over the rolling hills of the highlands of Tanzania. It is absolutely beautiful here and although water is extremely scarce, there is significantly more green vegetation. The landscape reminds me of Italy in a way, with colorful hills of agriculture and tall delicate trees. There are also hundreds of huge baobab trees intertwined in the landscape! The first week here we will be visiting all of the national parks in the area and getting familiar with the Tarangire-Manyara ecosystem and ecological issues that need to be addressed. We will then get to do directed research with Tanzanian professors on a variety of the concerns in the area. I have heard that one of them is head of the lion project in the area and another is an expert on elephants! Mt. Kilimanjaro isn’t there to guide me or look up to when I feel lost anymore, but being in such a beautiful place (without malaria) has rejuvenated me in an incredible way.

The Rains Have Come!

There is something strange about taking final exams under a thatched roof gazebo – in a fence – in the middle of Africa. I spend the entire past week studying under a yellow acacia tree with my laptop as baboons walked by and horn bills perched on the branches next to me. Occasionally a giant spider or millipede would crawl on me and make me jump about a foot in the air. Also, I am now an expert at screwing ticks out of my skin. My favorite place to sit is next to the spring where I can watch Maasai mamas fill up their giant water jugs and gently balance them on their heads as they walk back into the dusty savannah. People walk for miles and miles to get water from this spring. “Water” I continually write in my essays and proposals, “how do you get water to people in this desiccated land while educating them about how to conserve it?” The streams are drying up, the dry season is too long, and the water is getting increasingly polluted. The best part about taking long tedious tests in Africa is being able to look up to Mt. Kilimanjaro for advice.
One day I was reading an article about building a highway across the Serengeti when I felt a drop of liquid on my head. My first thought was that a bird pooped on me again, but after another couple seconds I felt another and another. We all slowly looked up at each other, and then lifted our heads toward the sky. Dark clouds!! Rain!! The rains had come!! I could hear the soft sound of rain in the distance and within a few minutes a sheet of water came sweeping across the savannah, soaking everything. I have never been so emotional about seeing rain before and all of us immediately started laughing and running around in circles with our mouths wide open and our arms in the air. After a few more minutes thunder started echoing across the sky. I felt like Simba had just returned to pride rock in The Lion King. The rain pulled the dust out of the air and made everything smell so fresh. As I soaked myself in the rain every part of me could feel all the life that the water was bringing and it rejuvenated me in an extraordinary way.
As the rains came, so did the animals. Elephants have been breaking into our camp every night and the snakes are emerging from the dry grasses. A black mamba was killed several nights ago on my trail to the bathroom. Cobras and pythons have also been found in various places!
I’m glad I got to experience part of the rainy season before I moved to Tanzania. I can see why people base their lives off the rains and talk about it constantly. At the end of the week I got through exams (with the help of Mt. Kilimanjaro) and prepared to make the 10-hour drive across the border to my new home in Tanzania.

The man-eating lions of Tsavo National Park

Camping in Africa is the ultimate adventure. This past week I went to sleep to the howl of hyenas and checked for elephant herds before I went to the bathroom (usually a guard escorted me with an AK-47). Every morning I would wake up and ask the Maasai how many lions came into camp the night before because their growls woke me up again. At night mysterious eyes would appear in the distance and then circle around our campfire. It doesn’t take much to make your imagination go crazy…
Camping for a week in an extremely remote area with 45 people is quite an ordeal. Our “herd” consisted of 28 American students, 4 professors, Daniel the naturalist, numerous Maasai askaris, cooks, mechanics, drivers, Kenya Wildlife Service guards etc. along with a weeks worth of food and water. I’m sure we looked like a traveling circus as we drove for 4 hours across the bumpy dirt roads. Most of the way the majority of us were all hanging out of the sunroofs and windows to get a better look at the red cliffs and lava flows that make up the beautiful landscape of Tsavo.
Tsavo is the largest game park in Kenya and is known for its man-eating lions with no manes. At the beginning of the 20th century over a hundred railroad workers mysteriously disappeared and their skeletons were later found in a lion’s den. Tsavo also has one of the most successful black rhino sanctuaries in Africa where 72 rhinos of all ages are heavily protected and monitored. We spent an entire day with the people that ran the sanctuary and learned everything about the extent Kenya has gone to in order to protect this endangered species.
Since the game park is so big and densely vegetated it is somewhat difficult to find animals, but we were extremely lucky. Throughout our stay we did an extensive study on different species habitat preference and were able to see all of the “big five” animals (which are the 5 most desired animals to see in Africa). They consist of leopards, rhinos, elephants, buffalo, and lions. The leopard was a beautiful young female that was delicately resting on branch 15 feet up from the ground. After every game drive I was completely caked in dust to the point where you could no longer tell the color of my clothes and I looked like I had white circles around my eyes when I took off my sunglasses. Even my teeth were covered in dirt.
Being in Kenya again is like experiencing a continual deja vu. Memories that have been stuck in my mind for years and have had such an influence on me are changing and being recreated throughout everyday. The more I spend time in Kenya the more I realize how much I love having such wild daily routines in what really is “the mighty jungle”.

How many languages does it take to have a church service?

Last Saturday a Maasai friend of mine named Daniel invited me to go to the local church of Kimana. Considering that my previous experience with religion at West Nairobi Missionary School was the opposite of ideal, I was quite hesitant to go near anything that had to do with evangelical Christians. “But there will be lots of singing and dancing!” he told me. Singing and dancing with Kenyans? How could I resist.

As we drove up I noticed that the church was nothing more than a tiny, plain cement building, but was clearly bursting with energy and music. I immediately noticed that the music was not the typical hallelujah either – it was up beat Kenyan music with a 90’s pop beat in the background along with a keyboard that sounded like an African instrument. As I walked in (already smiling and swaying to the music) I noticed that all the Maasai women were at the front, the men were in the middle and all the children were standing in the back. Everyone had their hands in the air and were swinging their hips and bobbing their heads. Africans are incredible dancers!! Their fluid motions make westerners look like chickens when we dance. Different women traded off at the microphone and sang a variety of songs, all which had incredible beats and made it impossible to not dance.

Eventually a young pastor dressed in a mismatching worn out suit got up in front of the church and started to speak in Swahili. He practically yelled into the microphone, which then blasted out of the speaker that was right next to him. It was completely unnecessary for the tiny room, but made me fully alert. Daniel got up with another microphone and started translating everything he said into English (just as loudly). Sometimes the pastor switched over to English for part of a sentence and Daniel would translate that part of the sentence into Swahili. Occasionally they would go between English or Maasai or Swahili or Maasai. It was extremely confusing, but quite entertaining to watch the two men bounce languages off each other while speaking as fast as possible. There wasn’t a split second of silence for the next hour. I had a hard time following the sermon but it had something to do with the difference between wisdom and knowledge and what it takes to be a wise man (all the Maasai women continually nodded their heads in approval).

After the sermon all the kids got up and did an unbelievable choreographed dance to the same up-beat music. Kids as young as three years old were already incredible at moving their hips and shoulders and bobbing their heads. I could have watched them dance all day it was so entertaining. Afterwards a group of adults squeezed into the front of the room and sang a song while dancing.

I was actually very disappointed when I looked down at my watch and realized that three hours had already gone by and that I had to go head back for lunch. The service was certainly not going to be over anytime soon. It was slightly bizarre to see native Maasai people practicing Christianity but I was amazed at the cheerfulness and energy that radiated throughout the church. People obviously loved being together and singing and dancing and it was impossible to leave in a bad mood.

Elephants don't like chili peppers

2010 is an incredible time to be in Kenya because the 47 year-old constitution was recently replaced with a new constitution that has potential to generate extraordinary changes for Kenya. Innovation is waiting at the Kenya’s doorstep, but everyone seems a little skeptical to see if power will actually be dispersed and if the new policies will really benefit the people. The first four weeks here I spent the majority of my time in classes, trying to take in as much information as possible about the new political system in Kenya, the ecology of the semi-arid ecosystem surrounding me, religious influences, the wildlife, and most of all, the problems that need to be addressed that encompass all of these things.
Now that I have a decent understanding of my surroundings I have started to conduct small research projects with my professors that involve environmental preservation in the area. I have become extremely interested in the change in land use practices – which is mostly a shift from a pastoral livelihood to agriculture - and the sustainability predicaments that come along with trying to farm on such desiccated land. About a decade ago the Kenyan government decided that pastoralism was primitive and needed to be replaced with more “efficient” livelihoods such as beef industry and agriculture. There was obviously no thought put into this change because it has created an environmental disaster in the area.
I was recently able to go out with a translator to dozens of Maasai villages and interview families about the problems they were having with their livelihoods. Most of the people I talked to had to travel three hours by foot for all of their domestic water! Furthermore, many people are in the process of trying to grow corn and tomatoes in gardens or fields around their houses and are doing everything possible to get enough water. People who have installed pipes or wells are only allowed to have 1 hour of water everyday, which is seriously limiting the amount they can grow. Also, the farming practices are seriously degrading the soil to the point where it can no longer be used after 2 years. On several other occasions I went and interviewed farmers about the human wildlife conflicts they are having on their farms. Almost everyone said that elephants had destroyed their crops at least once and that the Kenya Wildlife Service was failing to help them or compensate them for their loses. In defense of the elephants, all the farms are right where they migrate and feed each year. There have been several efforts to build fences around the crops that have proven to be useless because elephants are too strong and extremely smart.
After condensing the information collected, we write up reports and work with the Kenya Wildlife Service to figure out ways to manage the elephants so that their migration patterns are not disrupted, while making sure that farms are not destroyed. We recently proposed giving farmers chili pepper seeds to grow around their crops because chilies seem to be one thing that elephants won’t go near. As for water, we are currently looking at ways to replace dirt furrows with cement channels to reduce infiltration as water gets to the farms. Our professors have two million Kenya shillings from a variety grants to do this over a five year time period. In my opinion people should be educated about all the negative impacts of agricultural farming and be shown that there are other land use practices that are better for the environment (and more prosperous). It seems like it would be so much more beneficial to research and implement new livelihoods that work instead of fixing the never-ending problems from agriculture.

The warriors of the African jungle

I felt like I had just put my head on my pillow when my alarm rudely awakened me at 5am this morning. Grabbing my headlamp I crawled out of my mosquito net, skimmed the ground for snakes, checked my shoes for scorpions and began the walk to the sink. The Kenyan jungle around me was still asleep – or I was just completely unaware of what lurked in the darkness… There was a faint smell of smoke in the air from the night askari’s (guard’s) fire and the constellations of the extremely bright night sky were still clear.
After quickly drinking a cup of Kenya brew tea (Kenya produces the most black tea of any country) we jumped in our invincible land rovers and drove deeper into Maasai land than I have ever gone. The road was so rough and bumpy that it felt like my organs were being scrambled and the car shuttered so loudly that I couldn’t even hear my own voice. The only information I was given was that all classes were canceled and that I was going to a ceremony that I would never forget.
Every ten to fifteen years hundreds of Maasai from Kenya and Tanzania congregate at one boma to celebrate the next generation of boys becoming warriors. The men paint their hair red with ochre and wear their best Maasai blankets and all the women dress in their finest cloth and completely cover themselves in their extremely colorful jewelry. The ceremony is filled with dancing, singing, jumping contests and the slaughtering of a bull. The bull is then roasted and cut into hundreds of tiny pieces for all the new warriors and the inner stomach is given to the women. As we approached the festival there were hundreds of teenage boys lined up outside the boma waiting to get their piece of meat to signify that they were finally warriors. Getting to this point in a Maasai’s life takes a great deal of effort and struggle. They have to go through a variety of trials, including getting circumcised to show that they are no longer boys and killing a male lion to show their bravery. The ceremony was extremely emotional for everyone involved and the air was filled with anxious energy the entire time I was there.
I walked around talking to people in broken Maa (the language of the Maasai) and little bits of Kiswahili as people curiously touched my hair and asked why I had blue eyes. I felt like everyone took a double look at me as if I were a ghost, although many people were extremely nice and made quite an effort to communicate with me. Many people couldn’t get enough of looking at themselves in my camera after I had taken pictures. I practiced my dancing with the Maasai women once again, this time feeling like I knew exactly how to move my shoulders and head, but still not ready to sing.
My professor was right in telling me that I would never forget seeing so many young warriors lined up across the savanna, right at the base of Mt. Kilimanjaro.

My Maasai Family

Every time I think I am experiencing the most exotic, astonishing cultural event I end up going to something that amazes me even more. Today I was able to do a homestay with a Maasai family in a nearby boma. There were four generations of women in the family and several 20 year old girls who took me in like a sister from the moment I arrived and showed me everything that a girl my age does on a daily basis. The husband of the oldest woman had 7 other wives and all the other women that were married tended to be one wife of many.
From the minute I walked into their house nobody could seem to stop smiling. One of the first things we did was crowd into the kitchen area (which consisted of a shelf and a fire pit with three rocks to hold up pots) and blew on coals to light a fire. The tiny room (with no ventilation) filled with smoke immediately and before I knew it there was a blazing fire at my feet. We balanced a pot on the three rocks and boiled water and milk with loose leaf tea. Through broken English, Kiswahilli, Maa, and pantomiming we had fabulous conversations about our daily lives, families, and futures.
After tea all the women prepared to collect firewood by strapping all the young children and babies to their backs with cloths. To make sure I didn’t feel left out they tied a baby on to my back and handed me a huge knife to chop branches. Considering how many thorns I usually acquired while walking through the bush I was extremely nervous that the sleeping baby was not going to be pleased being on my back. Nevertheless, we walked for about a kilometer and then set the babies down and collected thorny firewood from surrounding acacia trees. We stacked the firewood in neat piles and tied it together with rope we made from peeling strips off another plant. To carry it back we strapped the rope to our foreheads and lifted the load onto our backs. On the way back the women taught me Maasai songs which completely distracted me from my physical discomfort.
As soon as we got back to the house we started preparing lunch. When there is only one pot, one fire, and a dozen mouths to feed, meals become quite an ordeal. We took turns chopping white cabbage and stirring a pot of ugali (white corn meal). When the ugali was done we mixed the cabbage with “pure white fat” (as the container said…???) and a little bit of onion and put it over the fire. With so many people and a scorching fire in such a tiny room I was soaked with sweat the entire time, and I was completely covered in flies from head to toe. Nonetheless, considering that the white food group is my favorite, I was actually quite content with white cabbage and white corn meal for lunch.
The afternoons in Kenya can be dreadfully hot since being on the equator makes the sun incredibly intense. To get out of the sun we all sat in the dirt in the tiny bit of shade from the house, leaned on each other, and took a nap. I already felt so comfortable and close with all the women that I dozed off immediately as one of the girls stroked my hair with amusement. After resting for about an hour we got out beads and I learned how to make traditional Maasai jewelry - which gave me a new appreciation for the amount of work that is put in to what originally seemed like a simple bracelet.
When the afternoon cooled off we once again tied the babies to our backs and carried water jugs to a spring that was also about a kilometer away. After filling up all the containers I immediately offered to carry the biggest one, thinking I could impress all the women. I first strapped it on my back (without the baby), took two steps, and fell over. Embarrassed, I tried it again on my shoulder, and then on my head, and once more on my back. I blushed as I continued to fall over into the dirt. I eventually accepted defeat and took a smaller water jug. Holy cow do I have a new appreciation for my faucet.
I dreaded leaving these wonderful women and couldn’t thank them enough for teaching me so many things and putting up with my naivety of their daily activities. Doing such strenuous jobs with such content, cheerful women taught me more about being happy than anything else I have every experienced.

An African Dance Party

After sitting in class for six hours I was relieved when several Maasai interrupted our professor and promptly invited us to a wedding that was going on at a nearby boma (small village). Delighted at the idea, we dressed up as nicely as we could, and jogged after the Maasai through the thicket of the surrounding grasslands. As we approached the boma (covered in dirt and thorns) we encountered a 5 foot long puff adder that was about 8 inches wide. Several of the warriors had killed it a few hours earlier because it was too deadly of a snake to be left alive near a village.
We slowly walked into the boma, slightly embarrassed that we looked so… American, but thrilled at the idea that we were in a wedding in a part of Africa that no road had ever reached and no muzungu (white person) had ever gone to. About 50 men and women were gathered at the center of the boma and were all chanting and jumping. Not knowing what else to do I started to walk around the commotion trying to figure out what everyone was chanting around. After only a few steps a Maasai woman grabbed my hand, flashed a gigantic smile at me and began to pull me toward the center of the crowd. Surrounded by people I had no option but to begin jumping up and down, throwing my shoulders and head in towards the center of the group. Several people looked at me like I was absolutely crazy but eventually everyone started to give me tips about how I could move my head as I threw my shoulders forward and jumped. Before long I was in the center of the group and everyone was facing me as I jumped with several of the young women. I was completely surrounded by warriors and women in all of their incredible beaded jewelry. I have never felt a stronger energy within a group of people and no matter how different I looked it seemed that as long as I was dancing I was part of the powerful connection that surrounded me. After about an hour the group opened up a circle in the middle and the young warriors began to jump as high as they could. They had tall slender bodies and were dressed in red blankets. Their long braided hair was painted red and they carried a sword and several other tools on their belt. Everyone cheered them on as they jumped higher and higher until they were several feet off the ground. I later learned that the groom was one of our night askaris (guards) and was getting married again because his previous wife had just died. I congratulated the groom but was told that the bride is rarely seen at Maasai weddings because she is expected to stay in her home all day, preparing to move into a new life and a new home. The wedding apparently went late into the night because once you get a group of Maasai to start dancing, you can’t get them to stop.

137, 142, 155,156, 157 There are 157 elephants in sight!!!

One of the main reasons I came back to Kenya was to visit the famous national parks that provide habitat for thousands of incredible animals. There is nothing more exhilarating than sitting on top of a land rover, binoculars in hand, skimming the landscape for lions, elephants, buffalo, wildebeest, giraffe, zebras etc. as the wild blows in your face. No matter how many hours I spend observing animals it seems that the day dissolves into a red sunset too quickly and the animals disappear into darkness.
Every couple years the Kenya Wildlife Service conducts a census on all the Wildlife in the national parks to determine how animal populations have fluctuated. In two weeks we will be helping with the census in Amboseli National Park and doing a number of statistical calculations to determine what parts of the ecosystem have changed in the past several years. Human population increase in the area has caused a number of stress factors on this ecosystem including habitat fragmentation, decreased wetlands, more human-animal conflicts etc. To practice for the count we have been making trips to Amboseli and recording every animal we see - which seems like a simple task, but is actually quite tedious. We not only record the number of animals we see, but also the social organization, age structure, gender ratio, and our exact location with a GPS. Amboseli is predominantly known for its elephants and on the first day alone we counted over 150 elephants (along with hundreds of other animals) before we gave in to darkness. As we drove away from the park we closed up the sunroofs, put away our equipment, and sat down with a daze. Exhausted and covered with dust, we all started to drift off… when all of the sudden the driver slammed on the brakes and the car skidded across the dirt road. We all awoke with a start as a mother giraffe and her baby appeared out of the cloud of dust only a few feet in front of our car. The last light of the day made them look like a painting as they walked off into the acacia trees.

Embracing the Dust

Embrace the dust. It has become part my skin, engrained itself in my clothes, coated my contacts, permanently stained my socks, and gets stuck between my teeth. Sometimes I hold my eyes shut for a minute at a time to clear them out and when I open my eyes again I have to re-convince myself that I’m not dreaming. I continually say to myself “yes, I really am looking at a giraffe walk 10 feet in front of my car, and yes those are Maasai warriors are not just a picture in a book, and no that giant bull elephant is not in the movie Planet Earth, it is right in front of me!
I was slightly startled the other day when I looked up from analyzing elephant footprints and saw about 5 Maasai warriors looking at me curiously. It was only 8am and they had already been walking for several hours to get to the market to sell livestock and collect water. I later learned that every Tuesday people from all over walk miles and miles for market day in local town of Kimana. It continually amazes me that so many people can navigate the endless hills of the African savannah so easily when I can rarely figure out which way is north. Later that day we got back in our indestructible land rovers and drove into town to experience a typical rural Kenyan market. The market takes place inside a fenced in area has a myriad stalls (set up in the dirt) that sell a countless number of things. It was literally over flowing with people, but I felt like I stood out like a sore thumb as I aimlessly worked my way through the bustle. The vegetables for sale consisted of kale, onions, and tomatoes (these are the ingredients for the staple – sukuma wiki). There were also a variety of beans, an incredible amount of extremely colorful cloth, shoes made of tires, beat up kitchen items, disgusting looking meat and all kinds of livestock. Everywhere I went about 20 Maasai women followed me yelling at me in Swahilli and showing off jewelry they wanted to sell. Behind them were a swarm of kids yelling “muzungu!” (white person). After about an hour of walking around I felt as though the energy of the market had conquered my initial enthusiasm and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and go to sleep. Why does Mt. Kilimanjaro hide behind clouds when I need it?
I have been in Kenya for just over one week now. In that short time I have become accustomed to having no expectations, no regrets, and to quickly learn from dangerous mistakes. Every minute of every day is another adventure and as I continue to embrace the dust, Africa is becoming more and more a part of me.

Happiness can be contagious

There is no use for my alarm clock here because countless large colorful birds never fail to make me fully alert at 5:50 am. The first thing we do every morning is track all the animals that came near to the spring the previous night. Just a half hour before we got there this morning a mama giraffe and her baby had come down to get a drink and then drifted back into the endless dusty red hills. We have found dung of every kind and can hardly keep up with the types of birds that fly by. Meanwhile, Mt. Kilimanjaro slowly lights up and looks more magnificent than ever through the clear, brisk air. After breakfast we usually start our daily classes. The Kenyan professors don’t treat us like tourists – they look at us as researchers with fresh ideas to help preserve this incredible place. A five-year research plan has been implemented by the professors, which includes aspects of wildlife policy, management, and ecology. We take intensive Kiswahili classes everyday so that we will eventually be able to have conversations with everyone in order to conduct research.
This afternoon we drove in our incredibly tough, worn-out, land rovers on dusty roads to a Maasai Boma (a village). Surrounding the Boma is a fence made of thorny shrubs to keep their cows in, and the lions out. Inside there are small huts made of cow dung and wood. A Maasai house is smaller than a small bedroom in the U.S. and sleeps up to 8 people. Amazingly enough there are still several bedrooms within this small area. Husbands and wives have different rooms and the kitchen (which consists of a small fire pit) is in the woman’s room. A Maasai Boma makes you feel as though everything you thought you ever needed in life is ridiculous and just makes things complicated. When we first got there the women sang us two beautiful songs while dancing. In return we took out an I-pod speaker and danced the Macarena. They were thrilled and started dancing with us immediately.
Happiness is contagious in Africa. Everyone has so little, but is so happy. Even when you want to feel sad or tired all you have to do is look at an African’s smile and your heart is lifted.

Karibuni Kenya

Jambo!
Mt. Kilimanjaro is right here - not over there in the distance – right here outside my mosquito net, rising above the elegant acacia trees, and higher than the clouds. They say that when you feel lost or alone in this desiccated land, all you have to do is look at Mt. Kilimanjaro and it will make your soul complete and answer all your questions.
This is Maasai land – a place where the circle of life is complete and each day is a struggle to survive. My banda (a small thatched roof hut) is inside a 25 acre area with a large fence as an attempt to keep the elephants and any other large animals out. Despite the fence, most of the animals find a way to break in so they can get into our kitchen and eat all of our lush pineapple and papaya. For some animals, including black mambas and baboons, the fence means absolutely nothing. One male baboon sits outside the kitchen pretending to pick at bark until everyone leaves. It then makes a run for the kitchen or a banda and steals everything it can. At sunset we go out to look for bush babies and marvel at their enormous round eyes and baby like figure (their name is very appropriate) as they clutch to the braches of trees. As darkness falls the stars of the Southern Hemisphere light up the sky and humongous spiders and beautiful geckos come out. When I shine my flashlight on the grass all I see are hundreds of spider eyes glowing in the dark.
There are about thirty Kenyans that work at the Kilimanjaro Bush Camp – many of which belong to the Maasai tribe. The Maasai warriors are as black as the night sky and extremely tall and thin. They carry spears and other weapons with them wherever they go and seem to not have a single fear. They wear beautiful beaded earrings and bracelets and dress in red blankets. There is also a wonderful kitchen staff that makes us incredible Kenyan food for every meal. I’m thrilled to be eating sukuma wiki (my favorite food) again and have decided to become vegan for the remainder of the trip. Our professors are extremely passionate about wildlife conservation and seem to be incredible knowledgeable about every animal, plant, tribe, ranch, etc. in the area.
While I’m here I will be working all day everyday to learn about and research the conservation issues that are being faced in the Maasai steppe I’m living on. How do you teach native people with very little education that this is one of the most unique places in the world and everyone needs to work to preserve its beauty. What will all life do when the icecaps on Mt. Kilimanjaro melt and there is no more water? How do you stop lions from eating the local people’s livestock so that they aren’t killed? How do you recover this intricate ecosystem when part of it is crushed?