Akos' Blog
6/16
We were picked up by James, who took us to our hotel located in a satellite suburb. The Red Court was founded by the Red Cross. It was a modern hotel with birds flying through the dining room. The evening was damp and cool. Luz felt like she was in Bogota. going to sleep.
The boys and the parents retired each to their separate rooms, to catch the end of the Portugal and Netherlands match before passing out.
6/18
Jambo. The next morning started at 6 am. The highlight of the morning was the coffee, which reminded Luz of Colombia yet again. After we left the hotel with Benat, our driver for the next days, we embarked into the Monday morning traffic jams, another reminder of Bogota.
Marabous nested in the tree along the main boulevards downtown. They are oversized scavengers with large beaks and a wingspan that dwarfed any crow's. It was unimaginable how those trees would survive the weight of those birds. I remembered how they would congregate around the garbage bins of the hotel in Ngorogoro.
We picked up our cook, George, at a mall, along with the tents and the cooking gear an food, and loaded up we left along the highway to the west,the town called Kisumi, home of our president's family.
Bernard liked to talk about politics, the dozens of parties of Kenya, of course most sidelined by the largest two or three. Many of the parties have tribal alignments. Tribes, there were over fifty of them as well. Again there were the Kikuyus and Luos, but numerous smaller tribes shared the general languages.
Bernard explained that the Luos were somehow a special in that every skill they learned they pursued to perfection, whether it was reading or writing, building bridges or cities.
The road was four-laned and perfectly paved at the outset, very different from Dar Es Salaam in 1990, all the way to the Rift Valley. Along the road, the disordered suburbs of Nairobi were replaced my more orderly villages. Palms were replaced by pine trees, cacti and evergreens.
We arrived at the Rift Valley, a step drop of hundreds of meters, and a vast valley broken by ridges and immense mountains who crests were covered in clouds. We descended gradually to Nakuru, one of the larger cities near to the National Park by the same name. By now the roads became more narrow, two-laned, treacherous due to the many trucks struggling uphill and faster cars passing them in the tighter curves.
The temperatures were gradually rising as we left a climate more akin to Medellin as Luz had recently experience, passing though alleys of jacarandas and pepper trees that were replaced by acacias and towering eucalyptus trees. Here the landscape became flat, with immense plots of corn and wheat, in geometric arrays, and had the acacias had been poplars, I would have confused the landscape for rural Hungary. Beyond Lake Bogoria the roads disintegrated, stabbed with huge potholes, making it to travel easier on the gravel easements than on the cement. The landscape became desert-like with cactuses, shorter acacias, and a shrub from Mexico that took over the landscape. The earth was arid, its surface cracked, washed away by previous rains, and now it felt as if we had arrived in Texas.
We entered Robert's Camp on Lake Baringo. A plainclothes guard opened the gait. The camp consisted of an odd array of houses, bungalows, outhouses and shower facilities and tents nestled in the shade of the acacias. Purple headed and white speckled weavers were hopping fearlessly in their campgrounds, Looking for whatever leftover remained from lunchtime. monkeys swung from the branches of acacias that we're inundated by a lake whose girth was obviously stretched beyond its belt size. There was no way to approach the water. It was hot and humid, despite the drought. Miklos was uneasy about Ant armies scrambling over some of the campsites we were looking at. We went for a "bird safari" by boat while Bernard and George set up the campsite, partly driven by embarrassment, but mainly to explore the lake that was otherwise unapproachable. Joseph was our guide, with training in ornithology and geology, and seemed to know so much more. We explored the submerged thickets on the shoreline and reeds, inhabited with the tidy round nest of the yellow weavers. Just at the get-go we encountered a King fisher, a cormoran and an eagle of some kind. Dani's newly found passion for photography emerged in clear daylight, as he was pursuing the flight of birds, plunges of a crocodile and brief appearances of a hippopotamus that was dodging our boat. The hippo's head would bob to the surface for seconds just for a breath of fresh air, before submerging for up to a minutes. The only signature he left on the surface was a trail of churning bubbles. We were all reminded of our canoe trips on the Brazilian Amazon, when we pursued, even less succesfully the invisible trail of the pink dolphins. The most impressive experience was landing in the middle of and estuary of cormorans and egrets. Nests packed the submerged acacias, squirming in them the grey fuzzy heads and open beaks of egret fowls. The trees in the distance decorated by feathered black and white balls representing the bodies of the cormoran and egret parents.
The campsite sunk into darkness rapidly. After a delicious, but rather European-styled dinner prepared by George, we had few options but to talk and retreat to bed, which was not that difficult so shortly after a 30 hour flight and associated jet lag. George warned us about hippopotami that would stomp through the campgrounds at night. But that did not even matter, not after so may hours in the air and on the road.
We realized we did not have a single towel or soap, all of which had been expected of us. I guess we were fortunate to be able to use their sleeping bags, although in the heat of the first night of camping it was hardly conceivable that we would use them. We left for a nearby village, Kariandusi, which was alive at sunset. The main road made an "L"-shaped turn to the left. The entire village was on the street, the elderly, the mothers and wife's who were washing clothes and smoking large filets of fish from the lake. The main street was studded with small kiosks, one bedroom hotels, stores with used clothing and beers that were locked up in a refrigerator. Bernard and I went from store to store asking for a "towel", obviously an old Swahili word. The people were all friendly, eager to help, but in the end they all just shook their heads. Just before leaving the village, we stopped at one last shop, advertising clothes in the window. The woman, who was obviously already preparing dinner in the back, found one (last) towel. I retuerned to the car victoriously with the booty, which was priceless in that very moment. Luz and I would use the towel at night, the boys in the morning.
We took our cold showers in the company of a thousands of ants, mosquitos and moths. But unavoidably there were noises of rummaging animals in the night, and both Luz and I awoke turning and turning in the unrelenting heat. Luz even ventured to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and I was amazed how she put up with all of the ants swarming over the dimly lit toilet seats.
6/19
The next morning we met Joseph at 6:30 for a walk to the cliffs. Dani joined Luz and myself, Miklos stayed to guard our belongings, i.e. sleep in for another few hours. The hike led us across the main road, past coops of crowing roosters, white and golden weavers, that built their spherical nest in the western limbs of the tree, some real, others fake, in order to distract the predators. We arrived at a tree filled hornbills, perching above one of the roadside shops. From there we proceeded along a dusty path, across the dry red clay, flanked with the thorny Mexican shrubs and pear cacti, and studded with volcanic stones. We descended to the base of a valley, which was covered by a layered limestone formation, a reminder that this had been the bottom of a primordial sea or lake. The ridge we approached was almost 100 meters in altitude, with a rugged but crumbling face of volcanic stone, jutting out of the limestone foundation. Earthquakes formed these ridges a few hundreds of thousands of years ago. Man had already lived here for million(s) of years, and it was these walls that exposed the skeletons and tools of our forebears. Even now, our camp was filled with paleontologists who were unearthing even older hominid remains, another step closer, and maybe a step further away from finding the missing link.
Before leaving the camp, I encountered a band of vervet monkeys playing at the edge of the lake, leaping from branch to branch above the tents.
Lake Bogoria was the next destination. It was famous for its high saline content and the hot springs that fed and warmed it's waters. It was a favorite refuge for the flamingoes, especially since the larger Lake Nekuru was becoming more polluted. At first we says the immense lake and wondered where had all the flamingoes gone. Then we caught side of them on the opposite shores. But after a turn in the lake, there they were in thousands, practically at our feet. We got out of the car, to take some photographs of them from up close, and surprisingly our hosts were without much concern. It was a park where lions or leopards could roam. And we encountered some of their favorite meals a little further, zebras, Thompson gazelles, and baboons. We visited one other few hot springs that still surfaced on the shore, stepping of the shells of eggs that previous visitors had cooked in its boiling waters! Boiling waters, a testament to the ever-active fault that extended from Tanzania to the Dead Sea.
The next stop was Nekuru, the fifth largest city in Kenya. It was a city that maintained its cleanliness despite its rapid growth. However, it seemed inevitable that it's growth would impact the National Park at Lake Nekuru. We stopped to get money at an ATM and shop a few more odds and ends we needed for camping at a super modern mall. We used their bathrooms, which was a treat after the outhouses. They were maintained by a person who collected 10 schillings per visit. The boys who were used to waiting for us I the van, missed out on this opportunity. At the entrance of Lake Nekuru we were awaited by a male baboon posing at the gate. Yes, the prospects of watching baboons did excite me, no doubt. I was looking forward to taking pictures of them in the wild, not in cages, but early on, they always evaded me. The boys were laughing about my frustration, suggesting that these baboons knew what stresses I was subjecting their long lost cousins in the San Antonio. They really did not want to be caught by me.
We arrived in the midst of a storm. The park cost each of us $80 to enter, and that was for a single entry. They were in the process of renovating the bathroom facilities and had no water so our drivers suggested we spend the night outside of the park. The walled in courtyard was not too appealing,,and after we agreed that showering was really not a need, we returned to the park. Bernard took us for a short trip through the park,and to our amazement, especially as we were expecting to see only birds, we encountered game of all sorts as they were going to rest for the night. Baboons ascending to the treetops, rhinoceri lying down near to the lake, water buffalo, Thompson gazelle, zebras and impala by the hundreds, egrets, pelicans, cormorans, storks and herons.
The night was cold this time. It was not only due to the rain but the change in elevation. Indeed, the bathroom facilities were under renovation, but their were two outhouses. These were even unpalatable for outhouses. I was going to test them out for myself, perhaps just to write about them in the blog. But as I left the campsite, one of the cooks for another group of campers, told me to stop. It was too dangerous. I thoughts was joking,perhaps referring to the fact that the outhouses were about to cave in. No, he said, there was was a water buffalo roaming nearby. I stopped, still incredulous, but after squinting my eyes to make out a large, dark, horned smudge at the edge of the trees, I complied. It was a good thing, because after I relieved myself on opposite edge of the campsite, the water buffalo already stood in fronton the outhouse. What a trade off that would have been, staying in the outhouse or stepping before the family friendly horns of the buffalo.
We slept inside our sleeping bags and Luz decided she would not leave the tent the entire night, but the cold, the jet lag and her bladder, got the best of her. We were awoken by the crashing of branches at one point in the middle of the night. Bernard told us the next morning that all of the ruckus was due to the same water buffalo. I was sure we had been visited by other animals as well. Of course, with our jet lag, we were not able to fall back to sleep. So luz and I embarked into the darkness, this time with a flashlight, ready to continue our Safari. This time we did not encounter any animals. Or snakes for that matter.
6/20
The following morning, after a coffee we were to visit the Baboon Cliff. We past the rhinoceri from the previous day, as well as the impala and the gazelle, all starting their day withe usual activity, eating. The baboons were still sleeping in the treetops. Of course, after making it up the tortuous road to the top of the cliffs, no baboons. Just a beautiful view of Lake Nakuru in the sunrise. There were hyraxes in dozens scurrying among the topmost rocks. On ventured out onto a branch overhanging a 50 meter cliff to nibble on some leaves, al be it cautiously. They had to be a delicacy, no doubt.
As the sun rose, we left the lake and ventured into the park. One of the most surreal and majestic views were a glimpse of four giraffes nibbling on acacia leaves in the distance. This proved to be a good omen for the rest of the tour; all in all we saw over two dozen giraffes, eighteen of which were clustered under a single giant tree, and a few other that stood along the side of the road, nibbling a bit, then watching us with utmost curiosity. No, they were posing. We passed a mother rhino with her baby boy, lying in a dried out and dusty water hole, and I suspect it was the clicking of our cameras and the run impostors of our and other jeeps that finally drove the to stand up and show their behinds in protest. It was time to move on. On this leg of the trip we also encountered water bucks and a family or two of wild boars, that were not interested in posing, not even for a second.
Exhausted by all of the excitement, sleepless nights, we returned to Nairobi. Bernard dropped us off at the Crowne Plaza, where I was for the First African Epilepsy Congress, the actual reason for coming here. I mean, in the second place. The hotel is posh and expensive, which I knew. What I didn't know was that there was an added 25% tax (hopefully to improve theh public transportation in Nairobi). Before the meeting, I fetched two espressos made from delicious Kenyan beans. The only surprise was that each costed almost seven dollars. When I asked the manager about this he pointed to the menu, and stated that this was the Crowne Plaza, after all.
The opening ceremony featured a number of important speakers, leaders of epilepsy on the African continent, ILAE officials and the minister of health who spoke eloquently, but shorter would have been better.
After the ceremonies, Luz and I realized, uncomfortably, and in different ways, that we were not prepared for the Kilimanjaro climb. This became the main them for the coming days. Not only was the altitude a potential barrier to a successful climb, but the cold, wind and precipitation. Indeed, I thought we were making the ascent in a dry season. I guess climate change is a reality even here.
On our first night we ate in a local restaurant. Other than Ugali which is the variation on polenta, we did not encounter a kitchen which in anyway differentiated itself from its neighbors or colonial ties. I won't give up the the search for authentic Kenyan cuisine that easily, although they say Indian food is excellent in Nairobi and Mombasa.
Rock hyrax stretching for some spectacular leaves
Mother and baby enjoying the morning sunlight
before their mudbath
6/21
As Luz read more from a climber's memoirs of the Kilimanjaro ascent, she became increasingly concerned about the hardships, mainly about the cold temperatures, wind and snow. We realized we had not been well-prepared for the climb and would have to resort to rentals of equipment.
Some facts from the Congress. There were only 200-300 trained neurologists caring for epilepsy in the entire continent. Most of them were in Nigeria and South Africa. In Uganda, a country of over 30 million inhabitants, there were only two neurologists (I still cannot imagine that). Most of the seizure medications are prescribed by psychiatrists, to patients who have never had a brain imaging study or electroencephalogram. In Kenya, a country of 40 million, 800,000 people had epilepsy (2% vs <1% in the U.S.), with probably only a few percent ever having seen a neurologist.
The second night, we ate Italian. I think we needed to eat something more familiar. We were downtown at the Trattoria, and the food was good. washed down with a bottle of Primitivo and an Espresso.
