Safari Adventures

(We just returned from our safari adventures, and had no internet - nor much electricity - for the past 8 days or so. So the next few blogs are about a week behind...)

After 3 weeks in international schools, it is now time to explore a part of Africa we have been dreaming off for more than 40 years!
When we were first dating, all that time ago, Kees pinned a map of Africa on the wall and we dreamed of working as park ranger somewhere in that mysterious land. We read many books of African travels, animals and parks. Books by Jane Goodall - when I raised baby chimpanzees in a primate center; books by elephant expert Iain Douglas-Hamilton whom we once met; books by the Dr. Louis and Mary Leakey and Joy Adamson’s Born Free.
We chose to move to Canada to embark on a park career, and Africa went to the back burner. We never were able to go. Until now.
It is a dream come true to now travel through Tanzania together.
We flew from Dar Es Salaam, where it was incredible hot and humid, in a tiny airplane to Zanzibar. There we changed to a larger 12 seater which flew us back to the mainland, across the plains and to the hills of northern Tanzania to the town of Arusha.

Thanks to Mambulu Safaris (http://www.mambulu.com), a small, personal travel agency in The Netherlands, we have been able to compose an itinerary that allows us to explore the specific places we want to see, and to experience the parks and wildlife of Africa.
We stayed in a wooden cabin clinging to the green hillside outside Arusha in the shadow of Mt Meru, Tanzania’s second highest mountain. All day we drove and walked through Arusha National Park. We saw large herds of buffalo, strolled (almost) among giraffes with a park ranger and spotted pink flamingo’s, colobus monkeys, gorgeously elegant crowned cranes and a large troop of baboons. We also managed to snap photos of other exotic birds and stately trees.
This area of Tanzania is very green and lush. We walked, together with a park ranger with a large rifle, to a 30 meter high waterfall.
We picnicked overlooking Mammelo Lakes and visited a crater, like a small Ngorogoro, thick with green grass and herds of buffalo. 

It was great to come back, after all the heat and dust, to a pool and a cold drink. The lodge has a large log and canvas restaurant overlooking the green gorge, and good food, too.

On Sunday March 8, our driver Charles picked us up at 8. He is a nice, quiet young man and a cautious driver. He will be with us for the next 8 days or so. The best part is that our entire safari is just for the two of us - no group of other people along!

It was a long drive but over beautiful, new pavement from Arusha to Tarangira National Park. The dusty, rusty entrance did not instill in us a sense of expectation. However, no sooner were we inside the safe boundaries of the park or we saw elephants. We took many photos of the first three young bulls we saw, very close by. But soon we came upon a herd of 20 or 30. Followed by yet another and another herd. Most with tiny new babies and elephants of all sizes. By the end of the afternoon we must have seen hundreds of elephants! Amazing. And so heartening to know that there are still such safeholds for them. We also saw giraffes, zebras, a lion and two leopards! And of course the by now common bushbucks, waterbucks, and impala.

At lunch, a monkey stole one lady’s sandwich. She watched it climb a tree, carefully peel off the plastic wrap and then pick out the tomato and lettuce, and throw those out before eating the rest.

We drove, for much of today, through Masaai land. A black paved road and a parallel running power line are two ugly scars across their traditional pastures. We spotted boma’s: a small round hut, one for each family member. So you can tell if a man has two or three wives. Once, we passed a huge group of huts. Our guide laughed and told us “This man has married 22 wives. They now have many children and grandchildren, and even their own school.”

Our tent camp for the night was a surprise: an open air shower, large private tents, even with a flush toilet, and a real safari mess tent, with a fire in front. I am now writing this by the last light of the setting sun, round and red over Lake Manyara, sitting in the mess tent and feeling like I am in an Out of Africa movie.… The music is that of birds and of clanging bells on many goats coming home for the night with their Masaai herder.

Creation of Hope - a Kenyan orphanage with Canadian roots

Several years ago, Canadian author Eric Walters had a chance meeting with a woman from Kenya. Ruth and her husband Henry spent some time in Canada but longed to make a difference for people in their home country, Kenya. Eric also longed to make a difference and to connect young people in Canada with those in Africa.

Eric and his wife Anita founded Creation of Hope, an organization to help better the lives of orphans in Kenya. Ruth and Henry offered their land in the high hills of the Mbooni region, outside Nairobi. 

Miraculously, things have been falling into place every since their fortunate meeting: people wanted to help, schools and individuals started sponsoring children. Young boys and girls without any family would have likely ended up as street children without any hope in their future. Now these same children have clean clothes, a bed and a regular meals. They attend school and even have the opportunity of university in their future.

Eric works very hard to support the 60 some children in the care of Ruth and her staff. He also encourages schools and anyone interested, to help financially. It is amazing to see how much they have accomplished. 

They have been able to build a large multilevel building with dorms for boys and girls, a kitchen, a dining area and bathrooms with running water.

The stove uses bio fuel produced from manure from their own cows!

A huge garden provides healthy food like beans, corn, kale, tomatoes, lots of strawberries and mangoes. They bake their own bread and sell cakes to the community. 

Eric has written several beautiful books based on his African adventures. To write his new novel, Walking Home, he actually walked across Kenya with a group of orphans. They crossed the second largest slum area in the world: Kibera. They walked hundreds of kilometers, in Kenyan heat, all the way to the hills of Kikima where the orphanage now looks out over the valleys. When you purchase this novel, $1.30 is donated to Creation of Hope.

In his picture books Hope Springs and My Name is Blessings he shares stories of real children in his care. The first one tells the touching tale of how a well was build to provide water and how the children reached out to the broader community to help a nearby village as well.

The children all attend school. Some are now awaiting exam results in hopes of continuing their education. Some girls are now in university and everyone beams with pride when they talk about their success.

In addition to the children living in the orphanage, they sponsor another 100+ children who live with a friend or relative. These children are given their own goat to get ahead in life, and food is brought regularly. Ruth smiles and says "When people ask how many children I have, most people will say 2 or 3 or 5. I say 160!" And she smiles as proudly as any mother would.

It was a privilege to visit the Walters’ success story in Kenya and to meet the very impressive Ruth who quietly moves mountains. And it was special to meet the kids whose happy grins tell the whole story.

If you would like to support Eric Walters’ Creation of Hope, you can make a donation or even sponsor a child as an ongoing commitment: 

http://creationofhope.com

It Takes A Village...

The ride to the airport today took about 2 hours. Along the main highway you see women carrying babies, bananas and everything in between. Men hail down matutu’s (busses) and cling to the doors. Goats are narrowly missed by the many cars that swerve to avoid potholes. There is red dust and exhaust fumes. When the traffic slows to a crawl you can buy sugar cane to chew or a newspaper or new sunglasses, from all the vendors who walk past the cars. Well outside the city I spotted a forlorn herd of zebra, a sad reminder of days when abundant wildlife still roamed on these planes. Now most animals moved to the relative safety of national parks.

I loved the stories I heard from my driver in Kenya. He told me much about politics, both in small villages, in the capital city and in the country. There seems to be a lot of corruptness, a lot of crime both small and large. But also much kindness. Previous employers of his gave him their car when they returned to Europe. 

White employers generally supply a pension for their personnel if they stay with them for more than 15 years. Having a housekeeper you can trust means you can simply go away without having any worries about house, garden, pets, etc. 

When I got picked up by Henry, my driver, he was in the kitchen oohing and aahing over the dishwasher. He had never seen one and was amazed that a machine could wash plates and cutlery. I told him not to tell his wife because it made husbands redundant…  

Fresh mangoes!

I loved driving around on Sunday, when large groups of people walked to church. Children in beautiful, frilly dresses. Men in stiff black suits. One could hear very happy, very loud gospel singing from tents and buildings everywhere. We drove by expansive tea plantations and old, colonial homes.

‘It takes a village to raise a child’ is a true saying here. Henry told me long stories about Kenyan weddings. Apparently a child does not belong to its parents here, but to the entire village. He said that, not long ago, the price for a bride, was paid in goats. But now it is paid in other goods such as sugar, drinks, maize, etc. He said “You cannot carry these gifts to the elders in plastic bags. You have to put it in nice baskets.”

The bridal price is paid to some village elders, not necessarily to the parents of the girl. One elder has to give permission for the marriage. He added that you also have to bring cloth for wrap-around shawls for all the women in the village, maybe 200 of them.

Henry’s English was very good but he swaps the ‘r’ for an ‘l’ and visa versa. Hence I had to think for a second when he seriously told me that his daughter wants to be a pirate when she grows up.

It took me a while to figure out she wants to be a pilot…

When I asked Henry if he knew someone who might want my old safari hat, he smiled broadly and immediately slapped it on his head. “Now I am a black mzungu!” he grinned. (Mzungu is a white person). 

When we got to the airport, there was security and gates. He rolled down his window and an armed security guy leaned in, shook hands with him, slapped him on the shoulder. They had a laughing conversation in Swahili, the guy leaned across and shook my hand. When we drove on, I asked if this was a friend of Henry’s. “No,” he said, “never seen him before. People are just nice here.” 

The black mzungu..

If you ever plan to be in Nairobi and need a driver, or someone to take you on an entire safari - let me know and I’ll give you Henry’s contact information. He is a pleasant person, a very good driver as well as a certified guide.

Kenya: Mangoes and Roses

Before I came to Nairobi, I pictured it as flat, yellow, dry and a huge city. It is a big city of over 3 million people. Yet parts of it are beautifully hilly, lush and green. 

All week I have stayed in a cute little cottage, among huge palm leaves and bright bougainvilleas. Birds twitter and sing in the green leaves.

Last weekend I visited elephants and giraffes. I went to amazing craft places with baskets, weaving, masks, and necklaces. It is hard not to go home with a suitcase full of gorgeous Kenyan art. You can buy huge masks with beadwork, 2 meter tall carved giraffes, tablecloths and blankets of red Maasai and Kente cloth. 

All week I got picked up early by ‘my driver’ who took me to school and who then sat studying for his next guide exam while I spoke to hundreds of kids at the international schools. Kids from England, Japan, Spain, Holland, Canada, and many more countries around the world. There was a lot of excitement about my books, about writing their own stories and about books in general. Wonderful librarians stimulate these kids who have a well stocked library at their fingertips.

During the week we ate dinners at lovely places: a large patio in a green forest, in the garden of the principal surrounding by candles, and in many other interesting places. 

It’s been warm: 30, 32ºC but often with a nice breeze and it’s a dry heat right now. People are looking forward to the rains, which will rinse off the red dust and bring new flowers. But I’m kind of glad not to have rain while I’m here…. 

The center of Nairobi is crowded with modern buildings and sidewalks full of people of all races and backgrounds. I’ve never seen traffic like here. Completely clogged roundabouts, 4 lanes of cars completely tied into a knot. Apparently all the traffic lights work but no one looks at them. There’s a policeman at every roundabout directing traffic, regardless of what the lights say… If cars had elbows, that what you use here. You just push ahead, whether space allows it or not.

But my favorite is to drive along the streets with tiny little shops leaning against each other. Corrugated tin forms the walls or roofs, rough wood keeps it all together. A rusty sign announces the ‘Meddle Some Beauty Parlor’ or the ‘Banana Hill Hardware Shop’ - which looks like it is in dire need of hardware. Plastic chairs outside for shopkeepers or customers… A wash basin is used by a barber. Goats, babies, bales of fabric - all crowded onto the city sidewalks while overloaded buses and motorbikes and cars push past. A woman cuts sugar cane, someone is roasting corn. I love the women with broad smiles, swaying hips and long, brightly coloured skirts. Many have headscarves wound around their hair or carry babies in a cloth on their back. Others carry a basket of carrots or tomatoes in their head. 
Today I saw women and children washing clothes in a pond, drying them on the grass. I ate the biggest juiciest mangoes you can imagine and I bought an armload of roses for my hosts: 20 fresh, longtime roses for 2 dollars!

This, I think, is Africa.

Good Morning, Addis Ababa

When we drive through Addis Ababa I don’t have enough eyes to take everything in. It is early morning as we drive through this city of 4 million people. I can spot only one skyscraper but many buildings of 5 or 6 stories - many of them in various stages of construction, showing bamboo scaffolding and unfinished concrete floors. Some buildings have shiny glass and chrome, other seem sad leftovers from a Soviet era.

The road is meant to be 2 lane, but cars at least 4 wide try to navigate in the same direction, dodging pedestrians, dogs and piles of gravel. The sidewalks are broken and dusty. Women in clean white shawls scurry along, some with baskets on their heads. Children in impeccable clean clothes, carrying backpacks, are on their way to school. Schooling is free here, all the way through highschool. Yet only those who can afford a school uniform can go.

Among the more modern buildings, tiny shacks of plywood and corrugated sheet metal lean drunkenly shoulder to shoulder. They look like they were built from a deck of cards and if you move one card, they all might come tumbling down. 

A cluster of some twenty goats await their sale. If you buy one, you take it home by either slinging the live goat across your shoulders, trying to lead him on a rope or simply tying him on top of your car roof…

Men pile tomatoes on wooden wheelbarrows. Shopkeepers squat outside their stores. Their products dangles outside the store from roof to floor: plastic baskets, flip flops, shirts, bananas and much, much more.

A group of men in crisp, colourful soccer shirts plays a game of soccer. A straight, long queue of people quietly waits for a bus - no pushing or shoving here. A Muslim in long white robes rubs elbows with an Orthodox Ethiopian. 

Cars of world wide NGO’s push their way along the road, together with beat-up blue taxis, brand new Landcruisers and mopeds. 

Young men cut boxes, fold open the cardboard and use it to set up their shoe polishing stand. Many people have their shoes polished, here on the dusty streets.

One of the most frustrating jobs, I imagine, is that of street sweeper. The women, wearing tall wicker hats, seem to merely be rearranging the dirt with their handmade brooms. But it’s a job.

The security guards at stores, banks, hotels and any other building - spend 12 hour shifts sitting on a plastic chair, chatting with passerby’s or reading a newspaper.

A salesman carries a large bundle of mops over his shoulder, the wispy white strands of fabric waving as he walks along. 

I spot 6 large dogs peacefully sleeping on a pile of rubble. I wonder what they did all night.

Slowly the sun climbs in the sky and starts to warm the sidewalks. Addis Ababa is awake, although I don’t think it ever slept.

Dinner Time in Ethiopia

 Last night I joined a wonderful group of teachers for a traditional Ethiopian dinner at http://www.dimmarestaurant.com

What an experience! We all sat in a large room, adjoined by Ethiopian families with children in all sizes. The small tables were like woven baskets with beautiful designs and a round, wooden table top. 

Before eating, a waiter came by with an ingenious tin jug of water, soap and a basin that catches the waste water. He offered this to each of us to wash our hands. An important move since the entire meal is eaten with the right hand.

A large round platter of food was placed on each small table - serving 3 or 4 people. We each received injera, a very thin rolled up ‘bread’ that looks exactly like a tea towel, and is just as soft and pliable. You use your right hand to pull off a piece and then you use the injera to pick up a little bit of food.  

Colourful patches of food, displayed in a palette of colours - 

• minced beef with capers;
• Gomen Kitfo - local cabbage with cottage cheese
• tikur
• fento
• zemamujet (cheese with cabbage)
• kocho (bread wrapped in banana leaf)
• gored gored (beef)
• yellow peas mashed with meat 

Injera

Much of it was very spicy, other things were smooth and mild. I think I tried them all… And I did need my lemon flavoured Ambo to put out a fire once in awhile…

While we ate, young men and women played interesting instruments on a stage and danced… and danced… and danced. I don’t know how they kept going all night. Using head and shoulder movements, they kicked up a storm showing us traditional dances, some with spears, from around Ethiopia, including this bizarre head twirling dance that makes you sick just watching it. You can watch it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tmyf__yc5ZQ   

I think it was filmed in the same restaurant I was at. 

After eating, we all washed our hands again and were served coffee that was prepared in the same ceremony as I described a few days ago - the beans roasted right there and ground by hand with a pestle. It was served with fresh pop corn and plenty of incense - the smell of coffee mingled with that of the frankincense sprinkled liberally on glowing coals in small stone pots on each table.

A fabulous, rich experience. I feel very lucky to be surrounded by kind, smiling Ethiopians and such hospitable hosts here.       

Amesege’nallo' everyone!

Ethiopian Artisans: Spinning and Weaving

 Driving along busy roads, past shops made from tin sheets, and broken sidewalks - I see women in long flowing skirts, wrapped in white shawls. I see men wearing a fez, or a baseball cap. Scrawny, dusty dogs try to find food under carts piled high with oranges, tomatoes and bananas. Donkeys wait patiently with loads of cement bags and bricks.

Eri silk worms

Suddenly our driver turns onto a short, dirt road and honks at a gate. A wizened old man with hands like gnarled wood, opens the gate and we park in the shade in a little oasis.

Among the cobblestone paths and lush green vegetation are different stone buildings. We have come to Sabahar, a workshop of weavers and spinners that was initiated by a Canadian. 

Inspired by ancient weaving traditions of Ethiopia, Sabahar creates exquisite scarves, table clothes, blankets and much more using locally produced silk and cotton. Ethiopian women have been spinning cotton on drop spindles for centuries while men have been weaving fabrics for their traditional clothing as well as the famous Ethiopian ‘gabi’ blankets. The company buys Eri silk cocoons from rural farmers, often women. The Eri silk worm eats castor plants, which are environmentally friendly plants that grow all over Ethiopia. The raising of silk worms is done to supplement income and primarily managed by women. The silk produced by the worms is then hand spun, a craft that has been passed down from mother to daughter for generations.

Silk cocoons

The silk thread is dyed in natural dyes, producing richly colored fabrics. The dyeing process, too, is ancient but often forgotten. Sabahar helps to preserve these traditional skills. They experiment with flowers, leaves, bark and roots to create gorgeous colours. They even use coffee, tea and flowers to dye the thread.

The thread is then woven on traditional looms, in an age-old technique passed down from father to son. I watched as the men skillfully slid the trundle and thread through the silk lines, creating patterns as they moved the loom. Smiles all around as they take pride in their skills and in the final products, that can be bought in a small shop.

Sabahar not only helps to preserve traditional skills, they enable artisans to work and receive fair wages. The company employs around fifty people at the workshop I visited but also employs another 100 or so artisans who spin and weave in their own homes or in cooperatives around Addis Ababa.

Sabahar emphasizes it philosophy respectful, ethical and sustainable work opportunities for artisans in Ethiopia. 

If you visit their website you can see where you can buy their gorgeous woven scarves and more, in the US, Canada and in Europe, including a store in Victoria, BC. And, yes, I did buy some weavings!

For great photos and more info, look here: www.sabahar.com