Nairobi, Kenya

School children at the animal orphanage.

Nairobi, Kenya

We went from the least populated park to the most populated African city – Nairobi. We’re in the middle of watching the World Cup in a loud bar with comfy chairs and good shakes. We’ve heard warnings about Nairobi and read things in the guidebook but Scott and I haven’t encountered any sinister feelings of danger. Nairobi is a bustling, clean city that feels comfortable and safe. We even visited Uhuru Park, the site of six deaths due to grenades just within the last two weeks.

We left Hell’s Gate by foot, watching over 3 miles from our campsite to the main road. On the way, we passed woken zebras, impalas, and lots of warthogs. We passed a group of bicyclers and took one last look at Fisher’s Tower and the looming wall faces of the park. Even in the morning, the sun was hot. We were relieved to reach the main road and within a minute hop onto a matatu to Naivasha town. Once in town, we had equal luck getting into another matatu headed for Nairobi.

After a long stop-filled, corn in our face (they roast corn early in Kenya and had many enticing cobs before us. We resisted due to having no change but our driver gave us each pieces from his long cob), we finally arrived under a blanket of smog and into midday traffic. None of this could distract from Nairobi’s shininess, its sparkle. Nairobi is a huge cosmopolitan city with everyone wearing business clothes in the central city. We checked into out hotel, ate lunch, and wandered around the city with trash cans on every block and ended up at the US Embassy August 8th Memorial Garden – the site of the former US Embassy prior to the 1998 terrorist bombing by Al-Qaeda. It killed over 200 people and injured thousands. The same day, the US Embassy in Dar es Salaam was also bombed, but wasn’t nearly as devastating. We watched the brief documentary on the event and walked through the small museum and I was amazed at myself for not having any recollection of the event – it would’ve been the summer before my senior year at Greeley, the summer I first went to China to broaden my mind.

Afterward we ventured into a Kenyan supermarket, Tuskies, to buy snacks for an indulgence of Western culture – a movie. After our respective movies ended, we walked into a dark Nairobi, but no less busy and no more sinister. More shops were closed but many were still open and we slipped into a clean fast food restaurant (another western indulgence) for dinner. Now – as I’ve already mentioned – we’re in a busy bar. Spain is winning by one over Portugal. I smell a mix of cologne, cigarette smoke, and food.

Hell's Gate National Park, Kenya

I think Scott and I might be the only souls in Hell’s Gate National Park. Well, if you count all the animals in this park, there are probably thousands of souls. I’ll revise that. Scott and I may be the only tourist souls in this park. Our tent is perched atop a ridge that overlooks the park.

Earlier this evening, we could see zebras and buffalo. And prior to that, we were walking among them. What attracted us to Hell’s Gate was the fact that it’s a walkable park. So that’s what we did. We woke up this morning at Fisherman’s Camp at Lake Naivasha. As we drank tea and coffee, we watched Vervet monkeys jump and play, and monkey around so much on one particular branch that it broke off scaring the large birds around it. There’s an electrical fence around the camp so no hippo sightings but definitely hippo hearings in the middle of the night and early this morning. After breakfast we packed up and started hoofing it on the highway. It was around 5 km to the park turn off so I was happy to jump on a matatu. Once we got to the turn off, we walked the 2 km down a dusty road to the park entrance. That was the most extended walking we’ve done with our heavy packs (Scott’s being much heavier than mine) and I wasn’t too keen, naturally, but we made it to the gate.

After paying East African resident rates to get into the park – 500 Kenyan shillings (around US$6.25) for entry, 150 shillings (less than US$2) for camping versus US$25 for entry and $15 for camping – Scott started performing surgery on his shorts again, which had ripped further during our morning matatu ride. This drew the attention of others entering the gate including a nice man from Manitoba. I was hoping to hitch a ride to the campsite instead of hiking the two miles with our packs, and that’s what the nice man from Manitoba (Roger) offered. Him and his wife in their private safari van offered us a ride and we took it happily. We hung out with Roger and Eleanor for the next couple hours as we rode with them to the gorge and walked with them.

The gorge was spectacular, certainly the highlight of the park for most who see Hell’s Gate as part of a day trip package around the area. Scott had said it’d be similar to slot canyons found in the west in America, and it was.

We ended up walking with another group as well for some of it, but it was still amazing. The gorge also had a hot springs system and tons of obsidian. We ended up walking from the depths of the gorge high onto a lookout. After the gorge, Roger and Elinor dropped us off at our campsite turnoff and went on with their day’s adventure. We’ve been lucky with the kindness of strangers we’ve received – strangers who travel by more guided/driven ways. Layla and Rob in Robundo Island National Park – from sharing costs with them on the island to getting the free ride to Bukoba; Mike and Chris who allowed us to share their cab ride from the campsite in Jinja (I’m sad I lost her business card with my journal); and now Roger and Eleanor – just really kind fellow travelers.

After we walked 2 km to the camp, Scott set up the tent while I prepared lunch. We started going around 1:30, having already done the gorge (thankfully since it was a 6.5 km walk), and headed toward the obsidian caves, another 6.5 km away. Without the big packs, the walking was fine, just hot. It’s definitely a different vantage point to see the zebras, the warthogs, gazelles and giraffes from foot rather than from high up in a safari rig.

For the most part the animals just stared back at us before running away sometimes. I love the warthogs who run away in a single file line with their tails up straight like antennas. We walked in the hot sun to the obsidian caves, which were definitely obsidian, but not really caves. Scott was disappointed but I just thought it was a good walk and was happy to reach somewhere so we could head back.

We briefly followed the Twiga Loop thinking it would be bring us back to where we needed to be, but it didn’t and when it didn’t, instead of backtracking, Scott wanted to take a shortcut down some gravely hills and through some woods. It wasn’t enjoyable for me but it did lead us to a great vantage point for buffalo. It was around 5 pm (the reason why Scott wanted to take the shortcut; to get back with some light still), which is usually around the time when buffalo come out from the woods. When we first saw them, I said, “shit.” Scott said, “cool.” I’m not afraid to walk among zebras and gazelles, but buffalo I am. We continued on and encountered groups of zebras, a particularly large one by a manmade watering hole. Scott tried to see how close he could get; I kept my distance.

The day was spectacular. It was just a truly amazing feeling to walk by zebras and giraffes, to walk with them. It was one of those days when I felt really lucky to be traveling, to be in Africa, and to be with Scott, because in so many ways he makes this all happen.

It’s early, but it’s nice to be in the tent. We can’t see them now, but we’re under a blanket of stars and among many other souls.

Lake Naivasha, Kenya

What a difference 24 hours make from a smelly hotel room in Busia to a tent at Lake Naivasha – the tent being the preferable option. We left Busia this morning headed for Nairobi. Well into the tumultuously bumpy bus ride, Scott realized we shouldn’t go all the way to Nairobi if we wanted to explore (by foot) Hell’s Gate National Park. So we got off at Naivasha on the highway, took bodabodas into the town, took out money, went to the nicest grocery store we’ve seen in all of Africa, bought some provisions, and took long bodaboda rides out to the Lake (we wore helmets – I’ve been on more motorcycles than I’d care to remember on this trip, but I must say, in Kenya, I feel relatively safe on them). Scott set up camp in the fallen darkness at Fisherman’s Camp. We ordered dinner of crayfish and salad (we splurged) to the sounds of fighting monkeys.

It’s been a lovely evening. Scott had to do some surgery to his shorts. Argentina is leading Mexico 2-0 at half time. I’m excited to wake up and actually see the Lake. Our second night in Kenya, but I like to think it’s our first.

Where It Must Begin (Busia, Kenya)

Early on, when we were in Mwanza, I had told Scott we’d inevitably lose something on this trip and asked him what he thought that may be. I had thought maybe one of our cameras, perhaps even my ipod, maybe a piece of clothing. I never thought it would be my journal, my travelogue, my near-daily recordings of how many hours spent on a bus, my thoughts, the routes we’ve traveled. For the first time in many years, I wanted a really good record of my travels. I wanted to remember the sounds I woke up to – hippo calls on Robundo Island National Park, the flowing Nile at Bujagali Falls. Or the time I didn’t wake up to anything because I never went to sleep in Kabale due to the all-night dance club next door to our guest house. Little and big memories – from the small girl in the taxi ride between Kisoro and Mbale to the mountain gorillas that were within five feet – I wanted to remember it all. But my journal has slipped from my light grasp, probably kicked under the bed at the Crow’s Nest in Sipi Falls, our last stop in Uganda before rushing into Kenya. I discovered the loss last night in the dingy hotel room in Busia, a dingy border town of Uganda and Kenya.

I was trying to take it lightly but when I told Scott, I did cry a little, seeing the discovery as a loss of my travels and not in fact what it really was – a loss of words. Even now, I’m still saddened, but there is nothing I can do. Like most losses in my life, it’s just an item. I can just record the second half of our travels with Lake Victoria and Uganda behind us.

We arrived in Busia last night after a series of minibuses. We left Sipi Falls strapped into a bodoboda (motorcycle taxi) – Scott, I, and our two bags, and the driver of course – and rode the 12 kilometers down the hill to the minibus. About an hour later, we were in Mballe. After discovering we weren’t able to get a morning bus to Nairobi, we jumped in another minibus to Busia, a dirty, dusty, truck-filled border town, where we had to spend the night.

Sipi Falls was gorgeous. We spent the morning hiking through the falls area, through bomas and cornfields, past hunched-over old ladies and lines of young girls collecting firewood from the edges of Mt. Elgon National Park to get to three spectacular waterfalls. When we had arrived the evening before in the rain, cold and wet, my expectations had fallen. I wandered if the journey to the falls had been worth it. So when everything the next day was absolutely beautiful, I was just happy, giddy. It was hot and even muddy, but it was surprisingly okay.

From the Road

Scott and I are currently in Kabale, Uganda. We're heading to the Mgahinga Gorilla National Park tomorrow in hopes of seeing the majestic creatures. There's a small chance that the group of gorillas will be available for sighting (they often wander into to the Democratic Republic of the Congo). Otherwise, we'll stay occupied with hiking up volcanoes and looking at Golden Monkeys.

We had the last day of the first term at Orkeeswa last Friday, which means half of our teaching in Tanzania is complete. Unbelievable. We celebrated the day with fun games and activities like egg toss (the students were in disbelief that we'd waste so many good eggs on a game), limbo (everyone was chanting "how low can you go?" long after the game ended), and javelin throwing (this was the most familiar activity as many of our students are Maasai warriors and have been throwing spears since they were small boys). I laughed hard. We all did.

So now Scott and I are on our five-week winter break. We'll be traveling for four of those weeks and return to the school for one week of agriculture training before the second term. In less than a week we've already clocked well over 20 hours of bus traveling (and several hours watching the World Cup). We've also gotten around by bodaboda (motorcycle taxi), motor boat (on Lake Victoria), ferry, car, and by foot. I've been trying to keep a journal so will recount much of this trip when I'm back in Monduli. We have lots to see in Uganda before heading to Kenya and then back to Tanzania to end our trip in Zanzibar.

I hope everyone's having a fun, hot summer.