Jambo Kenya!

Moment #1 – Arrival

The moment we land in Kenya, I note the difference from Ethiopia. As I look out the airplane window, the sky is sky blue and the sun is shining. The earth is red and brown due to dryness. Ethiopia is cool due to the elevation and lush due to the rainy season.

As we slowly make our way to the tarmac, I see a large, navy military plane perched nearby; it has a large British flag on the side. Ethiopia is the only country in Africa that has never been colonized – Kenya has had a complicated history with Britain, Oman, Portugal, and Germany vying for its possession.

We hopped in a taxi, and our driver welcomes us to Kenya. He boasts of his country, known for its exports of tea, coffee, and flowers. The infrastructure is impressive – the roads are smooth and plentiful, and there are newer, clean cars zipping down the highway. Mekael and I laugh about the strangeness of driving on the left side of the road, yet another influence of the British. As we drive closer to the city center, an impressive collection of new, modern skyscrapers greet us. In some ways, it feels exactly like Ethiopia, but in others, completely different.

Moment #2 – Maasai Mara

“Hold on, hold on, hold on,” Yasim our safari guide softly says as we bounce back and forth on the red dirt road in Maasai Mara. Yasim has both his hair and goatee slightly dyed red, which he told us earlier is a sign of his Somali tribe.

We have our heads poking out of the top of the large green land cruiser. It’s 6:30am and we’ve just begun our full day in the wild. We and a Belgian couple, a Dutch couple, and an Egyptian woman all eagerly look left and right, ready for any creature heading our way. The fresh, dry, dusty air blows against our face and the sun already shines brightly. The earth slopes gently up and down, as far as the eye can see in every direction. The ground is dry green-yellow with low brush, spotted with a few acacias standing individually.

We hear the radio buzzing with Swahili; we head over the crest of a hill and see a group of land cruisers stopped ahead. As we rumble closer, Yasim asks, “do you see the lions ahead?” All of us look ahead confusedly. There’s a mound of green earth in front of us, but our brain doesn’t process quickly enough. We pull up and stop and BOOM right in front of us are two female lions basking in the sun, lounging peacefully. We are 10 feet from them, and because they are on the mound, they are right at our eye level. The combination of their proximity, size, force, and strength catches us off guard. It takes my breath way. All of us are gasping in surprise and wonder. We stand in a vehicle, staring and delighting in every move and detail of the two lionesses. Their shoulder girth is frightening, and their necks are etched with muscle as they are sitting with their eyes closed, smelling the wind. Sometimes they open their eyes and turn their head. Every movement is another moment of thrill for us; we also observe other Land Cruisers pulling up, noting the joyful reactions of the passengers as they realize what they are seeing. We are hesitant to leave the scene after 20 minutes, but Yasim begins to inch away. The day has just begun, and that was just the start of it. By the end of the trip, we saw 14 lions (including a mom carrying her cub), a cheetah, a leopard in a tree eating its prey, zebras, elephants, wildebeests, giraffes, hippos, warthogs, and so much more.

Moment #3 – Mt. Kenya

“Is that Mt. Kenya?” I ask the fellow passenger sitting next to me on the bus. I’m looking out the right-side window of our bus on the way to Nanyuki. There is a dramatic, sharp outline in the distance. The sky is clear. My neighbor nods and asks the bus driver to slow down to get a picture. Someone told us that Mt. Kenya is only visible 5 times a year because it is usually covered with clouds.

“We are now at 4,000 meters (13,123 feet) of elevation,” Lawrence said as we reach the turnaround point of our hike. Lawrence was our trail guide. He could be 25 or 55; his age eluded us. He was very calm and quiet, as if the mountain called for transcendence and peace. As we hiked up the mountain, he rarely turned around; it was almost as if he could sense and adjust to our pace.

We started above the tree line at the base camp called Old Moses. The view from base camp was astounding; the town of Nanyuki, where we just arrived, was already deep in the valley. It was sunny and blue skies dotted with perfect clouds, but it was already cold because of the elevation. The landscape changed dramatically as we hiked. First, there were naked, boney bushes that Lawrence pointed out were the result of a forest fire. He mentioned that the tribes believed that if there was fire on the mountain, the dry season would end. There were also beautiful yellow and orange flowers scattered about. The naked bushes disappeared, and the second section of our climb included smaller green bushes. As we continued to climb, soon enough, those bushes disappeared and there were low level yellow-tan spiky plants that covered the ground. Lawrence pointed out some unusual plants that bloom into a pillar that looks like a cactus. It felt like we were on another planet. At the highest and final level, the earth is rocky and green, and there is a mist that encompasses our view. It reminds us of Scottish moors.

It is hailing and raining as we reach our end point, but I let out a whoop as we made the 5.5 mile climb with 1000 meters (3,280 feet) of elevation. We should be able to see the main peak of Mt. Kenya, only 900 meters higher in the sky. “It’s right about there,” Lawrence says as he points to a cloud in front of us. Mt. Kenya is like a ghost in front of us, but I love it anyway.

Moment #4 – Lamu

The motor boat grumbles slowly as we move closer to the island. I see the outline of colorful buildings along the coastline. We get to the dock eventually, and we step off with our luggage. “Jambo!” “Jambo Kenya!” “How are you?” “Jambo!” “Welcome!” The greetings flood our ears as we pull out our phones to look at the map. We have arrived in Lamu, a small island town of 25,000 along the northern coastline. Donkeys walk past us, full of packages. Some men are pushing large carts around piled high with Dola, a corn flour known as the main ingredient of Kenya’s staple dish called ugali (called other names in other countries). It has the color and consistency of thick mashed potatoes, but it is flavorless. It usually absorbs the flavors of meat or beans.

There are no cars around, and it is not until we start walking deeper into the town that we realize why. Lamu is a very old town, and streets are about 3 feet wide; they are a small maze of twists and turns away from the coast. We let donkeys pass us as we wonder at the architecture and unique doors we pass. We walk through a town square where there’s live music, games, and socialization. Our maps only help so much, so I call our hostel to help direct us. Joshua comes out to meet us. We walk through a building from the 19th Century, and begin to climb up several flights of stairs. We finally reach the very top – our cheap hostel has a 5 star view. Our room is open to the outdoors, only having curtains so that we can take advantage of the cool, salty breeze to balance the stifling humidity and heat. He then takes us to climb up yet another set of steps to a rooftop view of the water, peppered with colorful boats. The loudspeakers from nearby mosques echo with the reminder to pray. The sky is clear blue and the sun is hot on my skin. We ask Joshua for restaurant recommendations, and we start to descend back down to the street. We meet the owner of the hostel, who happens to be a woman from California who has been in Lamu for 40 years. She wishes us well, and tells us, “Get lost in the streets of Lamu. Go get lost.”