Kenya, part 1 of 2

February 1, 2006

Interrogated by a giraffe

We arose even earlier for a morning and our last game drive at Masai Mara. Just inside the gates we encountered a group of giraffes having their breakfast in the soft morning light. As per usual these Masai giraffes showed a keen interest in us, taking a few bites and then turning toward us to check us out while deliberately chewing their vegetarian breakfast of leaves and branches. It’s really something to be studied by a giraffe. You find yourself wondering what he’s thinking as he ponders these peculiar humans, bedecked with appendages of hats, binoculars, cameras and other extraneous belongings, as well as clothing of all colors and varieties, and housed in a white rectangular box on wheels (our safari mini-van!). I think the giraffe jury is still out on our intelligence and mental stability. Giraffes on the other hand are pretty straightforward creatures. Give them ample green matter and open plains and they’ll be in perfect harmony with the universe. According to Sampuli, they are peaceful and not the most courageous animals when attacked. They’ll kick with their long, powerful legs, but otherwise they would prefer to mind their own business and gracefully lope across the savannah in search of clusters of lush, green trees. Whenever we were in their presence, I too was lulled by a sense of peace and contentment and loved to just watch them move their gigantic bodies in synchronized motion.

Lions in hiding

A little further down the road, Paul spotted black-backed jackals, and Sampuli said they would lead us to the lions as they usually track the lions down in order to vie for a piece of the action, i.e. fresh prey. Sure enough, as we rounded the bend and headed toward a nearby slope where several mini-vans were congregated (Peter called it the “mini-van convention”), we got word that lions had been spotted and shortly thereafter we caught a glimpse of the jackals and began following them as best we could to what we hoped would be the lions’ hiding place. Apparently the lions were on the prowl and grazing on a nearby slope there was ample prey for the morning hunt—zebras, Thomson’s gazelles, topis, and one, lone, rather gaunt-looking wildebeest. We thought this might be our opportunity to see the lions in action and apparently their coordinated hunting efforts are a fascinating show to watch. Though the lion only reaches speeds of 55 km/hour, the lion makes up in cunning, strategy and sheer might what it lacks in speed. When they are hunting larger prey, three male lions go out together. One is a decoy and nonchalantly meanders within sight of the targeted prey but still a significant distance away, luring the prey into a false sense of security. In the meantime, the other two stealthily take position on either side of it several meters ahead. This process can take an hour or longer; the lions are methodical and patient. Once they assume their position, they somehow signal to one another (Sampuli is not sure how they do it), and the visible lion suddenly lunges at the prey. The prey easily outruns the first lion and may even think he is out of danger but depending on which direction he veers, one of the other two lions is waiting and emerges to make the final and nearly always fatal attack. One time as we combed the horizon, I thought I saw the mane of one of the lions but was never able to confirm the sighting as, unfortunately, I think all the mini-vans descending upon the lions caused them to abandon any plans they may have had of a morning hunt and sent them deep into the dense thickets of this vast valley. After searching in vain for at least an hour, we, all the other safari vans and even the jackals gave up and left the lions in peace.

The pursuit of the king of the savannah was exciting never-the-less and we were still high from our near-encounter with these majestic animals. We rolled along to another ridge where we had spotted the mother cheetah and her two cubs two times the day before. Once again, the cats did not appear but we did have the privilege of spotting a couple of bat-eared foxes, a nocturnal animal rarely spotted in the day. We parked on a neighboring ridge and got out of the van to admire the panorama. Across the valley were two Masai villages. One was smoldering and Sampuli explained that the Masai, a nomadic people, burn their village and relocate to another location when one of their community dies. A tawny eagle, marabou stork, and another unidentified very large bird (maybe a black ibis) were all lounging on the top of a dead tree in the foreground, also surveying the surrounding scene. However, when Sampuli heard the call of the jackal nearby, we decided it might be time to get back in the van unless we wanted to be prey for a marauding lion! I dropped my peace “seed” (a clay stone with the word peace engraved on it) in a rather attractive termite hole, and we sang songs of peace all the way back to camp.

Just outside of the park, Sampuli stopped at a postal station to pick up the bag he had left at the hotel in Nakuru. Unfortunately, it wasn’t there and he was told that somebody had picked it up and brought it to Nairobi. The only problem was that nobody seemed to know exactly who had picked it up and where it was to be delivered. It could be anywhere. During the course of the trip, we had prayed when we had lost, forgotten or misplaced other belongings—Marcia’s camera, my watch, my mother-in-law’s sunglasses, etc.—and they had miraculously all been recovered, so we decided to try prayer in this impossible situation as well. Marcia asked Sampuli if he’d like to pray and without hesitation, he agreed. We stopped the van and in the middle of the road, offered up our petition for help in finding Sampuli’s bag. By the time we arrived at our lunch destination, Sampuli received a call that his bag had been retrieved and would be waiting for him when we arrived in Nairobi. We all rejoiced and enjoyed animated conversation over lunch—Steve relaying tales of adventure of his days guiding on the Alaskan peninsula, evading bears and clueless clients, and Sampuli telling us about the time he jumped into a swimming pool without knowing how to swim and nearly drowned. He had us all in stitches, especially as he relayed how he floundered dramatically in the deep end. Mosamba/Alex was nearly in tears which made us laugh even more raucously. It was only after the retelling of the story a couple of times that we realized how serious the incident really was. Since that incident, this very strong and capable man has avoided swimming. I encouraged him to overcome his fears and learn to swim the right way by relaying to him all the fears I had conquered on our trip—most notably the fear of heights as I surmounted the steep faces of the temples of Tikal and Angkor Wat and the fear of closed spaces in my explorations of caves in Belize and Malaysia. 

When we rolled into Flora Hostel at about 6 p.m. that evening, we felt as though Sampuli and Mosamba had become like family to us and we bid them a heartfelt farewell, promising to visit them when we returned to Nairobi again, and in unison did Alex’s imitation of Sampuli spastically flailing in the deep end during his misadventure in the pool as a farewell encore!

January 31, 2006

A toy for a cheetah

No sooner had we started out that morning that we came upon a mama cheetah and her two cubs. I'm not sure how Sampuli found them because they were nestled amongst a grove of small trees, lounging lazily in the soft morning light, their sleek, spotted bodies blending into the golden desert sand littered with darker shades of rock. As if at nature’s drive-in movie, we pulled up right next to them, only a few feet from these beautiful creatures. We were so close I could discern their distinct pattern of deep auburn spots against a velvety golden background and perhaps the cheetah’s most distinctive feature—the black “tear” that runs from both eyes down to the corners of the mouth—forever conferring upon them an aura of solemnity. Now under close examination, I realized that the backs of the ears are black and the tip of the tail is marked by black rings of the same color dissolving into the speckles that otherwise covered their trunks. The two cubs were approximately two years old. Cubs may stay with their mothers until 8 years of age, though at 6 years they are fully grown. We were entirely enthralled with our close-up encounter when all of a sudden, Steve scrambled with his photography gear and his large lens cover sprang from his grasp and rolled next to our furry, but lethal, friends. We gasped as one of the cubs immediately perked his ears, intrigued by this strange object, crept over to investigate it, and ultimately pounced on the unsuspecting lens cover. Like a big kitty, he bantered with it, tossing it with his paws, catching it and scratching it vigorously before releasing it and beginning the process all over again! After a few rounds of this, the other cub expressed interest in this new play toy and joined in the rumpus and we all wondered if the lens cover could possibly survive this encounter with the baby cheetahs. In the meantime, mama cheetah was hardly phased, yawning deeply and barely acknowledging this obviously insignificant, man-made object. After all, it was clearly not made of flesh and therefore of little use to her. As we were all intently watching this drama unfold, we, including the cheetahs, were all jarred by the thumping of an object on the windshield. Sampuli was trying to lure the curious cub to jump on the hood of our van by waving a burgundy seat cushion out the window! All this commotion, however, brought mama cheetah to her feet as well as the cubs. As she came over to investigate this new intrusion, Mom C remarked: “I don’t know if you want to play with Mama!” When several wild flings did not elicit the desired reaction, however, Sampuli hurled the pillow out the window, much to our surprise. Instead of landing in front of the cheetahs, it got snagged in a nearby thorn tree! Now a lens cover and a pillow were at large amongst cheetahs and Marcia quipped, “We’re downright polluting the desert. We’re going to get fined for littering the plains!” Sampuli maneuvered the van next to the tree and I wedged my body out the roof to retrieve the pillow. There was one hairy moment when I couldn’t figure out how to get my body back in and imagined sliding down the side of the van and becoming cheetah meat! Next, Sampuli revved the motor sending the cheetahs flying to another clump of trees and drove up to collect the abandoned lens cover. Remarkably, it was hardly scratched, a testament to the ruggedness of the plastic. We’re hoping Sigma, the manufacturer of this lens cover, will be interested in our footage for a commercial!

Further down the savannah, we encountered pairs of Thomson’s gazelles scampering wildly. Apparently this is the mating ritual; the males chase the females until they succumb to exhaustion. However in this case, the female ultimately outran the male and the male was unrequited in his pursuit. It wasn’t long though before he initiated the pursuit again and the classic chase was on! In the foreground was a herd of wildebeests, many of which had young calves some no more than three weeks old. Adding to the colorful panorama were the vivid black, white, amber and tan of the zebra and impala.

The smell of rain

We had a lovely picnic lunch prepared by our friend Mosamba from a rocky outcrop overlooking a valley spotted with wildlife. We could have stayed all afternoon watching the herds of zebra, buffalo, and wart hogs had it not been for an afternoon rain shower. The zebras heralded the coming of the rain by prancing and bounding for joy in anticipation of the long-awaited rains. As we meandered down the hill, we ran into three buffalo, one of which was sporting a face piercing—a spear through his face! We winced in empathy for what must have been very painful condition and hoped that the park rangers might be able to find him and relieve him of his predicament. In the meantime, he was accompanied by two companions who stood on either side of him, guarding him faithfully.

On the ridge we spotted two female giraffes and their two youngsters and went to visit them. The gestation period for a giraffe is 14 months (The elephant, however, has that record beat at 2 years!).These young giraffes were beginning to gain some confidence as they wandered far from their mothers and eyed us curiously as we approached and followed them for a while. Their mothers were surprisingly laid-back, allowing them this latitude to explore their environment, even us, these interlopers of the savannah.

King of the savannah

We were lured by elephants on the horizon but before we reached the elephants, we ran into two male lions, probably 11 and 13 years of age, napping after gorging earlier on a big breakfast of buffalo (a full grown lion can weigh up to 230 kg). Nearby, vultures were feasting on the remains of their meal. Generally, male lions consider the act of hunting entirely distasteful and beyond their dignity (unless they’re required to bring down a larger mammal like a buffalo). It’s the female lions that do the dirty work, while the males always get first dibs on the fresh kill. That provoked several comments from the females in our contingent, “Yea, sure, it’s the good life. Must be nice being the king, the top of the food chain!” In the middle of our critique, one of the lions rolled over, turning his back to us and provoking further commentary, “Sure, giving us the cold shoulder, the silent treatment, eh?” Mom C topped off our string of insults with, “I think he’s having a bad hair day!” We set off in search of the rest of the pride, the females and young, who are generally in the vicinity of the males, but instead found four more males, all with swollen bellies and napping contentedly in the shade of their own trees. After exerting themselves on this kill, it looks as though they didn’t share with the rest of the pride, hoarding the beast all to themselves!

I had been tracking the elephants as we visited with the lions and we ambled just a little further down the path to visit a group of five elephants, including a mother and a toddling baby in tow. We followed the mother and baby. The little one was absolutely adorable as she tried to mimic her mother, feeding on the long grass. But, her trunk was just a little too short and much of the grass she pulled up never reached her mouth. Undaunted, she continued to diligently uproot grass, roll it up her trunk, and chew on the few blades that managed to make it to her mouth! A few times she was so intent on her task that she tumbled into her mother’s sturdy legs. When she grew tired or shy, she sought refuge under her mother’s gigantic body. The dexterity and keen awareness of the mother elephant is astounding. I found it incredible that this mammoth, unwieldy beast never crushes her little one, always underfoot as with the mammals of other species! Perhaps these special maternal instincts are nurtured during the elephant’s exceptionally long gestation period—two years!

January 30, 2006

Wildebeest bewilderment

With unbridled anticipation, we started out on our first whole day in Masai Mara National Park. Mara is Masai for “spotted land.” There to greet us just inside the entrance of the park was a dense “spot” of wildebeests. These funny-looking animals, a type of antelope of minimal intelligence, were supposed to be in the Serengeti in Tanzania but the lack of rain, due to the drought, had prompted a good number of their population to return north early in search of greener pastures (they usually migrate north in large numbers in July/August), resulting in a mini-migration. We were glad for their confusion as we were able to witness this incredible phenomenon—thousands and thousands of these creatures that Sampuli described as an expression of God’s sense of humor, created by a heavenly committee, with the face of a grasshopper, ears of a goat, horns of a buffalo, mane of a lion, hump of a giraffe, stripes of a zebra, legs of a cow, and tail of a horse!

Breakfast for a cheetah

Hidden in a thicket, we caught a cheetah with its breakfast—a fresh Thomson’s gazelle. Winded by the hunt, the cheetah sat with its prey catching its breath, but he dug in when he noticed a vulture already circling overhead. These sharp-eyed scavengers can spot fresh meat up to 30 km away! Though this one was still about 10 km from the scene of the crime, it won’t take long before he and his cronies descend on this cheetah’s hard-earned prey and heckle our protagonist unmercifully, eventually causing him to abandon his meal. What an incredible sight, watching this cheetah begin on the hind leg, dexterously stripping away the fur and devouring cleanly the flesh, complete with the sound effects of crunching bones!

The savannahs of Masai Mara are speckled with acacia, croton trees, small bushes with long, narrow leaves, and the nandy flame tree. Many of these trees, as well as other plants, are used by the Masai for various medicinal treatments.

Also nestled in a thicket was an injured female lion. As the chief hunter of the pride, the female lion often sustains injuries on the job, most commonly gores and gashes from the horns of male gazelles and antelopes. This injury looked serious but Sampuli assured us they are remarkable resilient creatures and through their fastidious grooming, often prevent infection and promote healing by keeping the wound clean. Even injured, most lions can sleep without worries of being attacked, so deeply revered and respected is this king of the savannah!

Daintily walking across the savannah as if on a shopping excursion was the fashionable secretary bird, dressed in her white blouse, black skirt and finely-weaved headdress and bearing bright red lipstick. On a neighboring knoll throngs of hartebeests, zebra, wildebeests, topi, and eland were gathered seemingly for a horse-antelope rally, while warthogs, who Sampuli claims possess the shortest memory of any mammal, crashed the party. At one point the warthogs got spooked by a group of wildebeest crossing the road and ran wildly, trying to dodge the galloping hooves. In midstream, however, they seemed to suddenly forget the threat and detoured to a water hole to calmly quench their thirst!  At upwards of 900 kg, the eland is the largest and slowest antelope. Never-the-less, it is still remarkably agile, leaping up to 2.2 m. One of my favorite antelopes was the topi with its fine coat of auburn fur accented by a distinctive dark brown patch on its upper thigh. The hartebeests, like the wildebeests, are bearded, though the hartebeests seem to command a greater respect in the antelope kingdom. Many babies were among the throngs.

Over the next horizon were thousands of buffalo blanketing the hills, many of them with baby calves in tow, and 28 ostrich, the 26 hatchlings probably from the same batch of eggs, primly sauntering on a nearby ridge.

At the Mara River, or wildebeest juncture during the migration, hippopotamus lay submerged, only the upper segment of their heads popping up above the surface. Most were pretty sedentary, but a couple was in the mood to play and began spraying each other and wrestling in the murky water. You could almost hear them singing, “What fun, what joy!”

Just outside of Masai Mara in Trans Mara, a cheetah sat on a termite mound and surveyed the vast expanse right out in the open plains. On the horizon were Thomson’s gazelles but they had already seen the cheetah and were keeping a close eye on her. We came within just a few feet of this princely cat. Unruffled by our presence, we were able to take several portraits of her and leave her to her musings from her regal perch.

In a nearby creek bobbed the heads of at least 10 Masai giraffes. The rest of their bodies came into full view as they emerged from the riparian corridor. Among them were a few juveniles, clearly not as tall as their adult counterparts. Also headed to the water was a herd of elephants. Another group stood stock still under a tree in the distance, their trunks lying limp upon the ground. Apparently this is the way elephants sleep as they are unable to hoist their bodies up unaided. Elephants are also wonderfully social creatures. When an elephant dies, the other members of its family gather around it in mourning. For an entire day, they fast and stand in vigil. At the end of this observance, they kick dust upon the dead elephant and then urinate on it, forming their own burial pyre. As we were departing this stream, I thought I saw a lion out of the corner of my eye. Sampuli backed up and sure enough, it was our first male lion, though a young one with an immature mane. I wanted to admire my sighting for a while but Sampuli informed us that we had a flat tire and it might behoove us to change the tire before we were completely disabled right next to this male lion. We all agreed with this course of action and sped away to take care of this business. A half-hour later, we returned to find that the original juvenile male lion and two female lions in a neighboring bush!

On our way back to camp, the sky blackened and threatened to rain. Sampuli went off road to scare a kori bustard, the largest of all flying birds, into unfolding its terrific wings and actually rising a meter or so off the ground, truly an amazing spectacle. We managed to stay just ahead of the rain despite a couple of significant detours—one to see our first adult male lion, 17 years of age, accompanied by two female lions and 2 couple-month-old cubs, and the black rhinoceros, tucked among a thick tangle of trees along a stream corridor. On his back rode 3 yellow-billed oxpeckers, making life just a little easier for this endangered, physically encumbered creature.  

January 28, 2006

Farewell, Samburu-style

A motley assembly, including herds of zebra, Grant’s gazelles, and gerenuks, 6 giraffes, a posse of elephants, a handful of dik-diks, a marabou stork and 1 cheetah, came out to bid us farewell as we left Samburu National Park early this morning. The cheetah was literally traveling along side us as if on a frontage road and we remarkably we almost missed it, he was again so well-camouflaged against the gravel backdrop. We backed up to follow his quick pace and check out what he was up to. He seemed irritated he was being tracked, not only by us but a group of gerenuks who kept walking in the distance just behind him, stopping when he stopped but intent on tracking him. We finally left him to his own devices, and I wonder if he finally gave those pesky gerenuks a run for their money!

A bird welcoming committee

On our way to Nakuru National Park, we drove through the famous Rift Valley, a glorious land elegantly shaped by tremendous tectonic forces, leaving a chain of shallow freshwater and alkaline or “soda” lakes and a vast valley surrounded by sheer 1000m cliffs giving way to another geological formation unique to this region, the escarpment, or vast plateau. Even from a distance, we could see the smattering of pink from the millions of flamingos on Lake Nakuru, and we were all eager to witness this phenomenon up close. As we approached this salt-soda lake, we were greeted by a welcoming committee of enormous birds—the white stork, the grey-crowned crane, Kenya’s national bird, Wahlberg’s eagle, the marabou stork, white pelican, sacred ibis, yellow billed stork, and last but definitely not least, the subject of world-renown photography, the greater and lesser pink flamingos! These flamingos, besides shedding a spectacular array of pink across the surface of the lake, are part of an impressive bird society. When they migrate each year to and from Lake Nitron, they are convened by a designated leader or elder. This chair orchestrates this massive exodus in a highly orderly manner. At precisely 6:45 p.m., over 1.5 million birds (3.5 million resident birds stay to hold down the fort) lift off in unison, assuming a formation of three parallel lines, each bird separated by a uniform space. As the leader of the pack bends, all bend, in perfect synchrony. It’s apparently quite a sight. The marabou stork, a notorious scavenger, also has a claim to fame: it’s fleshy pouch beneath its bill functions as an air bag and allows him to fly higher than any other bird.

Uniquely striped

Unlike other parks, we were able to get out of the van and walk along the shore of the lake with the birds—and a herd of zebra, this time the plains variety. It was surreal watching Peter and Paul ahead of us walking among the zebra and inciting them to gallop away in an attempt to keep safe distance from these strange creatures. Unlike the Grevy’s zebra of Samburu, the plains zebra sports thinner stripes and the stripes line the whole body. As with all zebras, their stripes are like the human fingerprint or snowflake, not one pattern is alike in all of nature.

Cross-eyed beast

Back in the van, we could see an array of zebra, buffalo, Thomson’s gazelle, wart hogs—and an unidentifiable large blot amongst the company. As Paul, our resident guide, suspected, it was indeed none other than the white rhinoceros!! There were five in this group, including one baby, and they lumbered along in all their unwieldy armor, intently feeding on the succulent grass along with all the other grazers, oblivious to their lethal enormity. The little rhino actually romped among the adults in its clan, bumbling into the enormous trunks of their legs. It isn’t hard to see how the rhinoceros can unintentionally trample unsuspecting objects in its path, as its small, beady eyes, completely out of proportion to its overall size, are set on either side of its face with its two horns, positioned one of top of the other right in the middle of its forehead, further obstructing clear vision. I got cross-eyed just looking at them and imagining these serious visual handicaps. A little further down the road, Paul spotted yet another two rhinos traveling toward the lake. Later from the viewpoint, we were still able to make out these two rhinos.

Just as we were about to leave the park, we luckily spotted several heads & torsos of the Rothschild’s giraffe, poking above a forest of yellow-barked acacia. Nakuru is one of the only parks in Kenya where the Rothschild’s giraffe is found.  Though fleeting, this sight is emblazoned in my recollection as the reddish-brown checkers of the giraffe and the vibrant yellow of the acacia tree were deepened in the lustrous light of dusk.

January 27, 2006

Crossing the Ewaso Nyiro, or Brown River, now literally just a bed of red-brown mud because of the drought, we saw hadaba ibises congregating around the thin streams of water still remaining of this river. A great rustling in the brush captured our attention. The subject of all the commotion turned out to be helmeted guinea fowl, attractive but ubiquitous birds of the savannah, dressed in black plumage with white speckles, an orange beak, and a turquoise blue head and neck topped with a distinctive orange crown.

The longest drool

Rounding the corner, we came across more African buffalo but this time we were able to admire these magnificent and expressive creatures in close range, their curved, shapely horns resting like a Viking’s helmet upon their heads. They were always intent on grazing, as were many of the other animals (the drought had made it difficult to find tender shoots), but when they looked up, they always made eye contact and unselfconsciously would often drool long spittle as they chewed, apparently unaware of the old mother’s adage to never chew with your mouth open!  

The one and only leopard

Further down the road, Paul, who was like a second guide to us on the safari, suddenly hailed Sampuli—there was a leopard in a dead tree ahead! Sure enough, there on the branch of the tree lay a juvenile leopard, a rare sighting across the east African wilderness. Though he wasn’t eating at the time, the leopard is the only cat that eats his prey in a tree. After Paul’s sighting, several other mini-vans followed us and the leopard was soon surrounded by gawking tourists! He was covered in a distinctive two-valve marking, kind of like a heart, and his shoulder muscles bristled with brute strength. He took no notice of us at first, lounging in the tree contentedly, his tail dangling. But as more spectators surrounded him, he grew agitated, stood gracefully on the branch, stretched, yawned and appraised his situation, looking right, left and all around. Making the decision to shake these pesky humans, he lumbered along the branch, climbed down the trunk and slunk through the bushes, re-emerging right in front of our van! There, he crossed the road, and you could see how he moved, deliberately, lethally, all of his senses—and defenses—on high alert. He looked a little emaciated to me but Sampuli said he was a juvenile, a gawky teenager, still filling out across his body length. He sought refuge in a nearby thicket and we were dismayed when one van didn’t respect his right to privacy and started following him into the brush, though in the end I’m sure he was able to shake them. This turned out to be the only leopard we saw throughout our 7-day safari! The leopard is unique

A bounty of savannah dwellers

We were still in awe at this sighting, when more of God’s creation spread out before us—a bounty of antelopes and gazelles—impala, oryx, Thomson’s and Grant’s gazelles. The impala are very distinctive with auburn backs, tan underbellies and a faint white line where the two intersect and are among the most graceful and agile of the antelopes. Oryx, classified as a horse antelope, are clothed in shades and stripes of gray, their faces bearded in dark grey. Thomson’s and Grant’s gazelles, the staple of many of the cats of the savannah, are smaller and a light brown and can be distinguished from each other by their rear-ends—the Thomson’s is white only up to its tail, while the Grant’s are white all over. All the males are bedecked with lovely pointed horns of different patterns, colors and sizes. The antelope’s horns are spiraled and ridged or grooved; the gazelle’s horns are ringed. And, the oryx has one of the largest pairs of horns—112 cm in length! Dik-diks, one of the smallest of the antelopes, just an afternoon snack for most cats, are everywhere, darting about the brush. They travel in monogamous pairs. When they are scattered by a predator, they seek each other out and if reunited, greet each other with sweet kisses and tender nuzzles.

Lions on parade

Steve spotted some movement in a dense thicket of brush and as we came closer, we confirmed a lion! On closer examination of the area, though, it seemed alive with movement. We looked around and there was another lion and another. As if conceding defeat in being exposed in hiding, they began coming out of the brush in single file right behind our van—a parade of more than 10 female lions!

Far across the savannah, Paul spotted yet another animal. As we got closer, he became very excited—it was a Grevy’s zebra. The zebra was by himself and covered in dust from the dry plains, muting his stripes. The Grevy’s zebra is larger than the plains zebra, which is found in southern Kenya, more horse-like with big ears, narrow stripes, and a white underbelly. We admired him, this our first zebra of the safari, as long as we could before we were beckoned by other sights and wonders. We traveled through a thick herd of Grant’s gazelles, impala, gerenuks, and oryx with babies, testing our skills at identifying these various species. The impala and other antelope generally travel in a harem of females with one male acting as their escort, but this congregation was a wonderfully diverse co-mingling of different species and sexes—a virtual medley of savannah dwellers!

As we sped by in our van, little critters occasionally poked their heads out of termite mounds to say hello. That morning, we met an unstriped ground squirrel and a dwarf mongoose, common inhabitants of these glorious castles of savannah compost! On our way back to camp for lunch, we once again met our friends, the lioness and her two cubs, even more lethargic in the mid-day heat than the evening before. Still, the curious cub, our “furry little friend” as Paul dubbed him, greeted us with a few flips and a yawn before settling down for his afternoon nap. We were also entertained by a symphony of superb starlings, brilliant with their orange underbellies, royal blue necks accented by a white ring, green wings and navy blue head and beak, which had flocked in droves to the trees lining the road to camp.

Our first encounter of the afternoon was a male and female ostrich, taking an afternoon stroll in the savannah. As in other species, though certainly not the case with humans—Sampuli was quick to note—the male is the most attractive of the two with its ebony black skirt, strikingly set off by its white torso. The female, on the other hand is a bland grey-brown throughout. The fact that the male is the one who sits on the eggs is perhaps some measure of consolation for this cruel trick of nature!

We drove through a creek right past a crocodile, who appeared to be in a state of hibernation, because when we returned several hours later, he was in nearly the same position. We were to discover that many of the amphibians had shut-down to hibernate in the relatively cool mud of dry river and stream beds during the drought due to lack of available prey and ample water to wade and wage its sneak attacks. Near the river, we saw our first waterbucks, large antelopes with a sage-looking grey beard, as well as large herds of Grevy’s zebra, more than 40 in number, as we emerged from the riparian forest to the grass plains again.

Cheetahs on the prowl

Sampuli suddenly reeled the van toward a couple of spots in the distance. As we approached, we were thrilled to discover they were two cheetahs, a male and female pair. Like the leopard (and dik-diks), the cheetah are also monogamous. This pair was lounging on a dead log under the umbrella of a broad acacia. We were able to identify their characteristic black spots imbedded in their coat of gold and their trademark, the black tear mark from their eye to the corners of their mouth. We settled in to gaze at these beautiful creatures, sketching the striking setting, the grey-white of the dead log in relief against the backdrop of the dark green of the acacia and Kelly green of surrounding bushes. Studying them intently, we were able to catch the change in mood as first the female got up, stretched and began scanning the horizon with a more serious, purposeful pose. Cheetahs can see objects 2 kilometers away and this cheetah obviously spotted something interesting because soon she was urging the male to get up and follow her. The male reluctantly did as signaled, lagging behind as the female crossed the road in front of us and slowly and deliberately began walking toward the ridge in the distant horizon. As we followed her gaze, we realized that there were indeed Thomson’s gazelles in the distance, and we immediately sensed that this female was planning to stage a hunt (It’s the female cheetah that hunts; the male merely provides back-up.) She stopped at yet another dead log closer to her target, confirmed her sighting, surveyed the landscape, and planned her approach. Without wasting time, she began stalking her potential prey, moving ever so slowly now across the wide open expanse littered with rocks and sand and progressively slinking lower and lower to the ground and moving ever so imperceptibly. Several times I lost her she was moving so slowly and was so well camouflaged in the rock-laden desert terrain. The cheetah is the fastest animal in the world but the Thomson’s gazelle is the second fastest, so it’s a close race and an exciting contest of survival of the fittest! (The cheetah travels at 112 km/hour or 70 miles/hour and the Thomson’s gazelle at 80-plus km/hour. Though the lion only reaches speeds of 55 km/hour, the lion makes up in cunning, strategy and sheer might what it lacks in speed. The zebra is relatively slow at 50 km/hour and that may be why the plains are littered with zebra carcasses!) The female’s task is to close the gap between her and her prey to 50 meters. We watched enthralled as the drama slowly unfolded, feeling sort of guilty for secretly rooting for the cheetah, our curiosity about seeing the cycle of life on the African plains play out piqued. For much of the time, the gazelles seemed unaware of the impending danger. Most of the herd was slipping one by one over a little knoll while the cheetah waited patiently for all of them to follow. If they all meandered over the knoll, her advances would be further concealed. Just slightly before she had closed the gap sufficiently, one gazelle veered off in another direction and lay down under a tree, within eyeshot of the cheetah. At first I thought this gazelle was outrageously unaware but it turned out to be the look-out. Just as the cheetah was poised to spring, the sentry warned its comrades, and the gazelles responded swiftly, quickly mobilizing their numbers and putting distance between them and the cheetah, while periodically stopping, turning back and keeping their nemesis in sight. Once discovered, the cheetah finally abandoned her attempt, sat up and returned to join the male. Throughout this very tedious process, the male basically hung back and watched, and even when she returned empty-pawed, he seemed non-plussed, even glad to relax his defenses and go back to reclining lazily!  

January 26, 2006

As we traveled from Nairobi north to Samburu National Park, we passed through a sea of coffee, pineapple, and tea, verdant valleys checkered with crops of all varieties, the rolling foothills and the jagged peaks of Mt. Kenya, and finally the sweeping plains of Samburu. Even before we entered the park, I looked out across the plains and saw an enormous bird with a hoop-like skirt. Yes, it was an ostrich. I was so excited. I began jumping up and down and flailing animatedly in the direction of my exotic sighting. The others were also impressed but wanted me to tone down my reaction for fear that I would scare all the animals away!

Amazing encounters with the Big 5

Shortly after entering the park, Paul suddenly pointed out a reticulated giraffe-and another and another! I was absolutely thrilled to actually see a giraffe in the wild. When I visited the zoo as a young child, I loved to watch the giraffes; their graceful gait and majesty were mesmerizing. I couldn't believe I was witnessing giraffes in their natural habitat, free to roam the savannah and grazing on the foliage of the flat-topped acacias.  However, no sooner had we begun to fathom the magnificence of this creature than Peter called out that there was an elephant too! Sure enough, quite close to the giraffes was a mother and baby elephant! A wild giraffe and now African elephants??! This was utterly mind-blowing! We were blathering incoherently, “Oh, my God, it’s a giraffe, it’s an elephant.” How do you possibly express the wonder of seeing a giraffe and elephant for the first time in nature?? An impossible task, indeed. And the wonders kept on coming. We were assaulted with one amazing sight after another—African buffalo rooting for tender sprouts in the dry scrubland, oryxes sauntering along the upper ridge of a steep hill side, gerenuks (long-necked gazelles) standing on their hind legs, completely erect, and browsing from the upper branches of dwarf desert trees, and finally, around one of the final bends before camp, a lioness and her two cubs. One of the cubs wanted to check us out and came out from under the thicket where he and his brother were lying, sat on his haunches directly in front of our van, and cocked his head curiously toward us as if saying hello! The other cub yawned and rolled over in the dirt. We all wondered where the cubs’ mother was and hoped we weren’t directly in between them and their mother as we certainly did not want to incite a lioness’ rage! Searching intently in the rapidly dissolving light of dusk, Paul finally spotted her in a dense thicket just beyond the cubs. She barely acknowledged us and continued to rest in quiet, regal repose. In just our short introduction to Samburu on our way to camp, we had seen three of the big five (lion, elephant, African buffalo, leopard, and rhinoceros)! Truly unbelievable!

January 25, 2006

Almost immediately we were impressed with Kenya. Just outside the airport, we were greeted by a tropical climate made deliciously sweet by cool breezes, vibrant magenta bougainvillea, a clear blue sky over the desert plains, a clean, well-run and attractive city, and an exceptionally hospitable and friendly people, so genuinely pleased to show us their country and eager to really get to know us. We were met at the airport by friends and colleagues of our dear friend Marompi Ole Ronkei, a Masai man who, along with his family with children similar in age to Peter and Paul, lived with us at UO family student housing. Though he and his family are currently living in Colorado, we will be staying in his village near Masai Mara lands and he has put us in touch with many of his colleagues, family and fellow Masai, who are fast becoming our friends as well. Thank you David, Jackson, Samuel and George for your enthusiastic greeting!

We’re staying at a wonderful hostel, Flora House, run by the Consolata Sisters and recommended by another Nairobi contact, Fr. Maurice. We were referred to Fr. Maurice by a friend from the Newman Center, our church in Eugene, and have been corresponding with him by email for the past several months. He dropped by to see us this afternoon and we received confirmation from him that another friend from St. Benedict’s at McKenzie Bridge, Brother Daniel, now lives at the Dominican House in Nairobi. It is indeed a small world, eh?

We met Brother Daniel the next day for lunch at our hostel and enjoyed chatting with him about his early experiences of Africa on the lovely patios at Flora House. I learned to put the emphasis on the second syllable when pronouncing Tanzania and heard about his adventures with the mayhem of Nairobi traffic, masses with spirit-filled African gospel music and liturgical dance and other cultural encounters. It sounds like the positives far outweigh the challenges so far and he is content and thriving in Africa. Praise God!

January 23, 2006

Off to Africa in style

Just as we were getting ready to board our flight for Nairobi in Mumbai, an Air India representative approached us and informed us that we had been selected for a free upgrade to Executive Class! After our own Terminal experience, a 9-hour layover from midnight to 9 a.m. in the airport, this was a most-welcomed surprise. The six-hour flight went by remarkably fast with all the comforts of first class—lavish accommodations, multi-course meals, drinks, hot towels, and gifts. Thank you Air India!

On the plane to Nairobi, we met four men from Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, who are on their way to Kenya to climb Kilimanjaro. Last year they climbed to Everest base camp and on their way back down were so inspired by the experience that they began planning the next challenge. See their adventures at: www.geocities.com/xtreme_6am_adventurers/main.