Dream, Plan, Travel, Repeat.

I was browsing through some old files and realized that I wrote quite a few notes from various parts of the world for my O & E section that were never posted. So, consider this an O & E “international edition.” (Notes from Italy are coming soon.)

•    In Hyderabad, India, there appears to be a trend of photographing your baby/toddler in a variety of costumes, such as a doctor, a god(dess), a policeman, or even (my favorite) Gandhi. Some people put all of the images together to create giant posters to hang in their homes. Very, very funny.

•    I passed by a kindergarten in Kenya that had painted the alphabet, and images that corresponded with each letter, on its exterior walls. What image do you think they used for the letter “G”? A giraffe? Nope. They used a gun.

•    While a friend and I lounged on a beach in Lamu, a Kenyan man told us a nice story about the baobab trees that can be found around the country. One legend says when a god gave each animal a tree or bush to plant into the ground, the hyena planted the baobab tree upside down (which is why its branches appear to be roots). When the hyena realized his mistake, he began laughing and continues to laugh to this day.

•    A friend I traveled with in Tanzania had a Swahili phrasebook that provided sentences for interactions with market vendors, waiters, taxi drivers, and so on. One of the sections was for sexual interactions. Phrases that you could murmur to your Swahili lover whilst in the throes of passion included “Easy lion!” and “It helps if you have a sense of humor about it.”

•    In Kigali, Rwanda, you can make a “cell phone call” by stopping one of the young men and women wandering the streets with full-sized desk phones that are somehow wired to the mobile network.

•    Pigeon is a popular dish in Egypt. I consider myself an adventurous eater, but I couldn’t bring myself to try pigeon, a bird that I believe is popularly known in the US as a “sewer rat with wings.” I am also amused (and a little disgusted) by the similarity between the Arabic words for “pigeon” (hamam) and “toilet” (hammam). Coincidence? Probably not.

•    Cairenes have an awesome(ly scary) way of asking for directions: rather than safely pulling over and directing their question to one of the thousand pedestrians on the street, they will drive alongside another car and, as the two vehicles weave unsteadily down the road, converse with the other driver for a minute or two.

When I wrote “July 7” in my last post, I guess I really meant “July 11.” Sorry.The last time I posted, I was in Kenya preparing for an eight-day safari to Lake Turkana, the world’s largest permanent desert lake. Since then, I’ve gone on the safari (which I’ve written about below) and traveled onward to Arusha, Tanzania, where I met up with some friends I made on the Kenyan coast. And, now that I’m just starting to get used to a new country, I’m planning to take a quick trip to another—Matteo left this morning with our friends to climb Africa’s tallest mountain, Mt. Kilimanjaro, and I’m hoping to have my own adventure later this week by visiting former colleagues in Kigali, Rwanda for a few days. (For those of you wondering why I’m not climbing the mountain as well, it’s because I decided that while I like the idea of being able to brag that I climbed Kilimanjaro, I dislike not only the idea of actually having to climb it but also paying someone a very large sum of money to subject myself to that kind of torture.) But Rwanda is still up in the air, pending the response to an e-mail I wrote to someone I know there– hopefully my next post will confirm that I’m going! Otherwise, it’s relaxing in Arusha and getting caught up on some personal business until Matteo returns and we move on to Zanzibar, my eagerly-awaited Swahili island paradise.Enough updates. On to the safari.Very few travelers journey to northern Kenya. Some years ago, violence sparked by cattle raids, robberies by bandits from unstable neighboring states, and local ethnic conflicts deterred visitors. Things have since quieted down, but the region’s reputation for lawlessness remains. The horrible “roads”– alternately narrow dirt paths covered with volcanic rock and holes, or soft desert sand that swallows the wheels of all but the hardiest vehicles, which are often referred to as some of Africa’s worst— that cross the region also keep outsiders away.But, as the saying goes, with great risks come great rewards. Traveling to Turkana was, without a doubt, one of the most memorable experiences of my trip so far.It takes several days to travel to Lake Turkana from Nairobi, and you’ll never reach it unless you have the right equipment. Our safari company supplied us with an enormous opened-sided truck that looked like it belonged in a military convoy—even so, we had a couple of near-breakdowns that probably would’ve been disastrous if our talented driver wasn’t also a skilled mechanic. Paved roads end within a few hours of Nairobi, and I spent the rest of the trip shaking and bouncing in my seat. Each day’s drive, though, was entertaining; besides gazing at my ever-changing surroundings, I had a dozen interesting individuals from England, Ireland, and the Netherlands to talk, sing, and even play (magnetic) chess with.After traveling north all day on the first day, we spent the second on game drives at Samburu National Park. I saw nearly every kind of animal that there was to see– zebras, giraffes, elephants, impalas, ostriches, cheetahs, baboons, buffalos, and even, in two particularly gratifying moments, lions! The lion story is fun: we first saw a lion and a lioness during our afternoon game drive on the second day, but they were semi-hidden in the grass and a good distance from our truck. That alone was exciting, but the sighting seems — in retrospect– fairly dull after an amazing experience that we had as we were leaving the park the following morning. On our way to the park’s entrance gate, we came across a beautiful adult male lion. He, like all animals used to the constant parade of safari vehicles, took one look at us and began walking away in opposite direction. (It’s so hard to get photos of wildlife that are actually looking forward!) But just then, another safari vehicle, having heard about the lion over their radio (you wouldn’t believe the kind of gridlock that can occur in parks when “special” animals have been sighted), pulled up on a road opposite to our vehicle, effectively cutting off the lion’s escape route into the bushes. Undaunted, the lion turned his back at the new vehicle, and began walking straight toward our truck. Hundreds, or possibly thousands, of great photos and ooohs and aaahs later, he passed us and disappeared into the bush. Happiness all around– except, perhaps, for the passengers in the other safari vehicle.The next three days were spent traveling long distances to various campsites in increasingly northern locations that appeared to have been unchanged since the beginning of time. Nairobi is surrounded by lots of cool, lush green hills, but as you travel further north, the hillsides (which, at times, strangely remind me of rural England) give way to thorny bushes dotting dry savannahs with eerie-looking, isolated mountains bursting from the earth’s surface; then, as you approach the Chalbi Desert, there are fields of black volcanic rock and, later, miles and miles of golden sand. We began to see mirages in the distance– at one point, I swore that there was a pond ahead, because I could see the reflection of desert plants on its surface, but then we just passed another endless field of dirt.As plants disappeared in the landscape, so did many people. Most “towns” were no more than overgrown villages of round, thatched huts and a few bare cement-block buildings for the local mosque or church. Settlements outside of towns would be tiny clusters of 10 homes or less.I was (and still am) amazed by these places. Few homes were located near water. There were no gardens in sight. (Incidentally, I learned from a man in one of those towns that the one desert plant that I thought could be edible was in fact deadly. I was hoping that I had an inner survival sense tucked away in some deep, ancestral recess of my brain; I don’t.) Meat from camel herds seems to be the most reliable source of food, but judging from the blond hair of several children I saw and the prevalence of food cans with a picture of the American flag, it’s clear that life is rough for the region’s inhabitants.More amazing was the fact that, after driving miles and miles away from these settlements, we would suddenly come across a young man tending to his herd of camels, or an elderly man wandering across the desert toward a distant village. (One man approached us when our truck became stuck in a sand dune; he hitched a ride after tossing his spear in the back.) I tried to imagine a life of walking hours and days through nothingness, of possibly seeing no more than 100 people throughout my lifetime. The thought is so far removed from my own reality.On the evening of the fifth day, we arrived at Lake Turkana, whose green-blue waters seemed even more beautiful after days of driving through savannah and desert. We stayed the night in traditional Turkana huts (which may sound more romantic than it was; some huts—mine excluded, thankfully—were already occupied by really, really big spiders), and then spent the following day exploring the area. We traveled around the lake by boat in the morning and – after we were hilariously rained-out in a region that probably only experiences rain once or twice a year—went out later again in the sunny afternoon.At mid-day, we toured a village nearby the lake. The pre-arranged visit struck me as a pretty uncomfortable experience—it wasn’t clear to me that all of villagers approved of the tour (I might be annoyed as well if someone entered my home and wanted to photograph me making my breakfast) nor was it apparent that the money that we paid to our safari operators would actually be used on inclusive and desired community development projects. Who knows. After answering questions about America with a couple of English-speaking boys, though, I did manage to glean some interesting lifestyle information from them. One boy, for instance, is currently saving for a dowry so he can marry a girl in a neighboring town. The dowry is no less than 30 goats, 10 donkeys, 12 camels, 2 sacks of sugar, and 2 sacks of coffee. I asked him what he currently has and he replied that he owns 10 goats. That’s still a long way to go. Another highlight of the village visit was when I asked that same boy how old he thought I was. He peered into my eyes for a minute or so and then confidently said, “35.” Ouch.The seventh and eighth days were spent returning to Nairobi through a different, but equally beautiful and bumpy landscape. More Wild-West-Meets-Africa towns, oases, mirages, and desert sunsets.Are you really still reading this?In short (well not really, but summarizing has never been a strength of mine), my safari was a unique experience that brought me in contact with unforgettable landscapes, gorgeous wild animals, and unbelievable little villages and towns that are home to some of the toughest people on Earth.And now I’ve drained my brain and am starting to stare stupidly at my screen. Time to go.

...but I'll have plenty of stories to tell when I get back!

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•    Today I watched Judge Hatchett, that fantastic American court show featuring some of the craziest of our society’s crazies, in a Swahili canteen along with a group of equally engrossed Kenyans. I couldn’t help but notice the time—3PM—which was ... [Continue reading this entry]

I’m currently in Malindi, a town that I thought was located along the central coast of Kenya but – judging from the surreal experiences I’ve encountered recently— may in fact be a little-known settlement in the southernmost region of Italy.

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