Day 13: Western pollution

So much research and hard work goes into a project like this, because of that also comes disappointments.  By talking to the local people and trying to capture an understanding of the way of life here in Kenya, we learn. Today a local who didn’t understand our concept and took us for tourists misinterpreted us. We only realized this once he took us into a “traditional tribal village.” He was making lots of phone calls in the car on the way to the village and we only realized why when we arrived and were asked to pay a village fee of $60. In the backdrop were exquisitely dressed Borana women ready to sing us a welcoming song and entertain us with dance. It was like theatre in the wild. It made us both feel uncomfortable. Is this what tourism has done to tribal history in Kenya? After deeper conversations and understanding of the people they admitted that this was their only way of survival. They had crossed the border of Ethiopia to settle here in Kenya. Families travelled thousands of kilometers barefoot with herds of camels, cattle and goats to find better pastures and a better way of life. These Borana people lost everything; all they have left now is the memories of their lost tradition that they now put on show for passing tourists.

Samburu: Joseph then took us into real Samburu land. He understood our concept and took us into raw land, virgin territory for Mzungu (white) people The Samburu culture remains extremely traditional and their bonded heritage remains strong. There is more to come on this tribe…

Day 12: Animal Kingdom

A dik dik is possibly the cutest of the antelope. Their tiny bodies have the biggest hearts. The dik dik is only 30-40cm and because of their size are favorites for predators. According to the warden ranger at Samburu the dik dik have one life long partner. If one is killed the other starves itself to the death. Wildlife is so romantic! We spent the rest of the evening fascinated by the lives of the animals we saw that day. The honeymoon of the lion, the wisdom of the elephant, the speed of the cheetah, the mischief of the monkey, the beauty of the grey zebra and the balls of the buffalo. Our philosophical chat then lead us into a conversation about tribal men, pastoralists and the footprints across Kenya. I dreamed wild dreams tonight… Where did it all go wrong?

Day 11: The great Samburu

Today we braved our sickness and headed to Samburu. We tried to be so brave and pretended it was Chelsey’s birthday all over again. It was an adventurous two hours to get to Samburu. The drive was just beautiful; along the road were tribal men, women and manyattas. It felt like something out of one of the great Kenyan novels. Our lodge was perfect and that day we had lunch looking over a riverbed and a heard of unruffled elephants. There is something so magical about the bush and wildlife. A new respect and appreciation for nature is reborn every time I visit the bush. It killed me to hear statistics on wildlife numbers in Kenya over the past twenty years. There are no rhinos in Samburu

Day 10: Chelsey’s Birthday

Sick 

Day 9: Flagyl

Never take Flagyl unless, I don’t know, it’s the last option on earth. After a breakfast at Dormans Chels and I had obviously eaten too much and felt a little nauseous. We went to the pharmacy and being as ignorant as we are sometimes, we asked the pharmacist for something to assist nausea and vomiting to make sure we didn’t feel sick for the night before her birthday.  He gave us the dreaded box; it was a dose of four big pills. We had a sleep and woke up feeling ok. We then had a cocktail with dinner and went off for a night of karaoke and the lunar eclipse. Well let me just tell you… After just two drinks I could feel my body ready to reject everything. Peterson, who came to join us for the night, rushed me back to the house, my head hanging out the window and his speedometer on 120kmph on potholed roads. I felt so bad leaving Chels but I got home and nearly died. I was so sick. I crawled into the bed and lay there shivering, so sick I couldn’t think. Chels came in just after the eclipse and collapsed in the same state as me. She ran to the bathroom and her illness only spurred on mine. We shared bathroom breaks praying to feel ok. It was horrible. We woke up to find out we had been poisoned. 

Day 7: Artistic portrayal

This Sunday in Kenya we spent at a Lilly Pond. We arrived and followed a story about elephants and bees. This exhibition was a portrayal of nature and humans and how they can work together to eradicate conflicts between them. In Kenya elephants have become problematic in terms of eating crops and killing vegetation. Before, harsh methods were used to keep the elephants away. Going back into the history of elephants, they have always been afraid of bees.  Farmers have now developed new methods that increase the population of bees as well as keep the elephants out of their crops. The artist managed to capture the story in a colourful and energetic light. We then spent the rest of the day watching Kenyan plays under the warm African sun.

Day 7: Artistic portrayal

This Sunday in Kenya we spent at a Lilly Pond. We arrived and followed a story about elephants and bees. This exhibition was a portrayal of nature and humans and how they can work together to eradicate conflicts between them. In Kenya elephants have become problematic in terms of eating crops and killing vegetation. Before, harsh methods were used to keep the elephants away. Going back into the history of elephants, they have always been afraid of bees.  Farmers have now developed new methods that increase the population of bees as well as keep the elephants out of their crops. The artist managed to capture the story in a colourful and energetic light. We then spent the rest of the day watching Kenyan plays under the warm African sun.

Day 6: A wild encounter

The first Saturday in Kenya and Chelsey and I are headed into the wilderness. Ol Pedjita conservancy an hour from Nanyuki town. Being in a bright red X-Trail has proved to e somewhat amusing. Like in Spain the bull, in a heft of fury slammed his angered body toward a small red cloth. Did I mention we had a big red X-trail and we were headed into high-density buffalo, black rhino and elephant terrain? I, as the driver, was on full alert! The conservancy has a captive blink black rhino, Baraka. He was nearly killed in a hierarchal battle with another dominant male. He can’t survive without the help of humans.  We fed Baraka with our human hand; his prehistoric mouth enjoyed every bite. On the same land we saw, in the distance, a cheetah with two cubs and a fresh kill. On our way out of the reserve a lioness popped her perfectly chiseled head out of the nearby shrubbery and used the road around our car as a catwalk.

Day 5: The road less travelled

We have adopted Peterson as our safe guard and our translator. He is a gentle giant.  There is nothing “nice” about a dry, long, sand road. There is something magic when a figure in the distance is slowly walking towards you on the same dusty road. The figure got clearer and it was an old man, dressed in his best suit and tie, which was torn and shaggy. He has broken shoes with no socks and skin covered in itch.  We stopped the wise old man to ask where we could find the elder of the village we were we headed to. He looked at us, summing up our intentions. He made a decision that our visit was of more importance than the reason he was wearing his Friday best. How is it possible that two Mzungu girls and a Peterson were more important than his ceremony? How important must we have been to these people? The answer only came when we were introduced to the head woman of the village; again she looked at us, almost as if she was looking straight into our souls. She sat us down on an old wooden plank and we calmly explained that we come in peace, empty-handed but with full hearts. Again we realized our importance when the very women who had no food to feed hungry children, offered us four eggs from their cooped chickens in regret for having no tea as an offering. Incredible. As we continued on the dusty road we were greeted with applause and a magnitude of handshakes and smiles.  The school had an energy like no other, it was almost as if one could feel the excitement of every child before we even entered the gates. We went through the grades and got serenaded by each child as they grew from babies into eager teens. Then we took the same dusty road back towards civilization, where it rains and people eat.

Day 4: Matumba

The Matumba market is a ethnic dumping ground for haute couture and hand-me downs. I was in search for a jacket. With no expectations we arrived at Matumba to find a few rugged tables with piles and piles of clothes.  Hidden In between the clutter are forgotten Calvin Kleins and dumped Dolce! It is perfect. If I has a choice between any shiny shopping centre and a Matumba market Matumba would outshine them all. 

Day 3: Potholes and intoxicating drivers

This is the road that is unlike the common term, “the road less traveled.” The road from the city of Nairobi into Nanyuki town is not one for the twenty-one-year-old suburban  citroen driver. My second time on the Kenyan roads was a four hour drive fueled with excitement, fear and a strong sense of adventure. Between dodging Matatus, checking all my mirrors and trying to catch up to a heavy duty Toyota Hilux, I was also trying to absorb the happiness between Chelsey and I as we set off into a new territory. The drive was filled with laughter, sketching break pads and honking.  We arrived in Nanyki with sore bums, full bladders and exercised cheeks.

Day 2: We made the Ngongo Hills echo.

Standing on the tips of the Rift valley is simply magic! I shouted into the vast landscape and heard the faint reply of a lost culture, it is disturbed by the splitting sound of a boeing 747 splitting through the cloud cover above.