the End of a Dream

To reflect back on my trip, upon its conclusion, is a surreal exercise. What commenced as a momentary departure from the currents of everyday life, has taken its own course and shape, and emerged as a life in itself. The journey, spanning 11 months, has taken me to 16 countries in Africa and Asia, wherein I’ve logged over 25,000 miles of overland travel on local buses and trains. As travel does, it has bestowed upon me an enriched perspective of the world, in vivid colors and three dimensions, to accompany me in all future endeavors that life may entail. In receipt of this extraordinary gift, which few people in the world have the chance to experience, I’m overcome with gratitude for my good fortune.

Hakuna Matata

Here's a map of my route through East Africa:


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As Africa comes to a close, at least for now, I reflect on my time here fondly but with mixed feelings. The wildlife has been phenomenal. Golden hour game drives, witnessing East Africa’s savannah amongst the world’s most spectacular mammals: a graceful leopard draped over an Acacia tree branch; an imminent zebra kill unfolding right before our eyes, spoiled by the impatience of a lion cub; a herd of 32 giraffes galloping in unison, seemingly in slow motion; a herd of over a thousand elephants migrating to drink and bathe in the Chobe River, all passing within a few meters of our Land Cruiser before returning to the bush. These moments are the magic of Africa.

But the darker side of Africa has been persistent. Scammers, beggars and thieves can be found in many undeveloped parts of the world, yet here they are too pervasive to dismiss as being customary. I’ve experienced the peacefulness of East Africa’s rural villages; simple lives and the independence offered by subsistence farming seem to bring about the best in people. East Africa’s cities, on the other hand, have grown tiresome – the horror stories from Nairobi, Dar, Kampala, and Jo’burg; indeed, the Italian woman attacked with a machete and robbed at Tiwi beach near Mombasa; the signs in Dar that read: Danger: it is NOT safe to leave the campground; the sickening darkness of Nairobi’s River Road at night, by myself, walking to the bus depot with all my luggage; the Brit bludgeoned in the head with a hammer in Kampala...

Botswana

Leaving Livingstone we entered Zimbabwe and I bought a hard boiled egg before crossing the border bridge. A moment later I heard a truck horn followed by someone firmly yanking my hand downward. I whipped around to find a male baboon, as large as me, who had just failed in his attempt to steal my egg. In one reactionary moment I wound up and drilled the egg at him with everything I had, and with some luck it exploded square on his left eyebrow. He was stunned, sat back, and then proceeded to eat the bits of egg from his face. I suppose it was a happy ending for us both. The city of Victoria Falls was merely a jumping point, and we continued the next day to Botswana’s Chobe National Park.

Chobe
Game drive after game drive, I’ve found that it takes increasingly more to be impressed. This is how I felt entering Chobe – what could this place possibly produce that would upstage what we saw in the Crater or Mara? Maybe halfway through the drive, as we approached the Chobe River, we witnessed something truly special. A herd of elephants – too large to count and in excess of one thousand individuals – was approaching the river to drink and bathe. Each one walked right past our vehicle as we stared for over an hour, speechless, at this extraordinary spectacle.



Okavango
The Okavango Delta’s natural history is as impressive as Serengeti’s wildebeest migration. The Okavango River originates in Angola and flows 1,000 miles into Botswana, gradually evaporating in the Kalahari desert and forming the world’s largest inland delta in the process. The delta is so massive that its wildlife is best viewed from an airplane. In addition to flying over the delta, we spent two nights camping on an island about 3 hours canoe (or mokoro) ride from Maun. It was a bona fide bush experience: elephants trampling through the camp at all hours, hyenas whooping at night, a symphony of delta frogs and insects, and a star-lit southern sky to top it off.

Zambia

Rather than cross the bridge to Zimbabwe and deal with a border crossing, I decided to view Victoria Falls from the Zambia side. After paying the entrance fee and getting hiking directions for the rim of the falls, I picked up a local guide – one of the illegal ones for about half the price, or $2 for 3 hours (I talked him down from $10 :- ). Shortly thereafter, we were turned around by a gentleman with an AK-47 who demanded an additional $40 to proceed all the way to the main channel of the falls. The falls were running very low anyways, and I figured my time was better spent elsewhere.

On my way out I swung into some street vendors for a soda and a few souvenir Zimbabwean dollar notes. The Zimbabwean dollar was suspended indefinitely in April, 2009 as a result of hyper inflation and devaluation. Their $100 trillion note can be bought for about US$1. “Dennis the Menace” seemed fairly genuine and offered to show me his village. It was only 15 minutes away so we crossed the railroad tracks and waited for a shared taxi to fill up.

Mukuni was a beautiful village of a few thousand people, with networks of rusty red trails connecting thatched huts and many large, mature trees. I found Mukuni intriguing so returned the next two days. On the last day I photographed this boy doing laps with his wheel toy. Afterwards, I treated him and his family to sodas and enjoyed observing the intense focus with which he and his sister drank their Sprite, which was clearly a novelty in their lives.

Malawiwawi

I laughed out loud when I saw this at the Malawi border: “Don’t invest your time, invest your money and we will do the rest.” Tempting, isn’t it?

Just as we stamped out our passports in Tanzania, the Malawi border was arbitrarily closed as a result of alleged demonstrations. As we waited to confirm our fate, it was looking like a long night on the bus with food scraps and no beer. The good news is that such puzzling events seem to go as easily as they come; the road block of logs was soon cleared and we were on our way. Malawi’s immigration procedure is intriguing. Each entry is handwritten into a notebook, one passport at a time. The single immigration official was quite leisurely considering the large, antsy crowd awaiting his attention.

A morning stroll the next day quickly gained momentum when I met a local primary school teacher in Chilumba. He seemed excited at the suggestion of my attending his class, so I eagerly did so. Nearly 60 children, ages ranging from 10 to 15 years, sat side-by-side on the floor of the classroom, which was conspicuously devoid of furniture and fixtures – just a chalkboard and daylight filtering through the cinderblock walls. It was bleak, but also practical – nothing to maintain, nothing to steal.

Further south on Lake Malawi, it was fun to discover a fishing community in Mbamba village. Between midnight and 2:00am, the fishermen embark on their nightly paddle into the choppy lake waters to cast gill nets, which they collect early the next morning, returning to shore about 10:00am.

dusty trails

The first leg of our southward journey took us 300km from Nairobi to Arusha, the jumping point to Tanzania’s Serengeti and Ngorongoro Crater. These roads are growing familiar – brief patches of freshly laid asphalt followed by persistent stretches of rough dirt and relentless dust. Throughout Kenya and Tanzania, a widespread highway resurfacing project is underway, subcontracted to Chinese construction and engineering firms. The construction costs themselves are being funded by foreign aid monies, in return for natural resource entitlements.

It’s appropriate to point out such a fitting analogy for some of Africa’s shortcomings: business done for the benefit of a few politicians at the expense of local jobs and development; foreign engineers banking expat salaries; idle locals at a loss for skills and advancement. A particularly disturbing sight upon entering Tanzania was that of adult men ceasing their work to outstretch a hand for money. There is a powerful difference between adults begging for money versus children.

Ramadan in Dar

From Arusha we ticked another 650km to Dar Es Salaam - a large port city and Tanzania’s former capital. We were well prepared for the drive but happened to arrive on the evening of the last day of Ramadan. Celebrations were in full swing and thoroughly attended. As night fell we were stranded amongst standstill traffic and the unnerving chaos of street festivities. Masses of people in every direction, matatus blaring hip-hop from blown speakers, and a handful of unsuspecting potatoes peering into their new world through the superficial refuge of truck windows.

Zanzibar

Dar was followed by five days of beach volleyball and marination on Zanzibar. Some downtime in this island paradise was welcomed. The ferry ride back to the mainland on rough seas quickly turned “pear-shaped”, with hoards of men, women and children chucking their guts out inside the boat and all over the bow and stern. Rumors had forewarned of such a meltdown, but it was easier to appreciate after experiencing the sights, sounds and smells firsthand.

Ngorongoro Crater

The crater was awesome. It boasts the highest density of lions in Africa.

Mara II

Second trip to Kenya's remarkable Masai Mara reserve.

The magic always seems to happen when you least expect it. This time, we were on our way back to camp and most of the cameras had been put away as we were unlikely to see any more wildlife. Briefly, the sky seemed to open up and offer the most dramatic light we’d seen all day.



After we’d left MMNR and were on our way back to Nairobi, we stumbled upon a herd of 32 giraffes just off the road. At first just walking along, something startled them into a full gallop. They were equally graceful and awkward, with their long necks swaying back and forth as they floated along.

anything is possible; nothing is certain

Unraveling an explanation for Africa’s state of affairs is no easy task – many problems, many perspectives, much effort, and little progress. How do the thousands of foreign aid workers in Africa view the likelihood that their efforts will lead to meaningful long-term change? It’s difficult to ignore the lengthy history of individuals and governments that have attempted to harness Africa, to no avail.

Despite its challenges, I’m quite enjoying my travels here. It took a few weeks to get back in the travel saddle. After a wonderful experience in Uganda, it’s time to head back to Nairobi to meet Steve and begin our epic trip south, overland, to Johannesburg.

Western Uganda

Buses and matatus
In Kampala I stayed at a hotel overlooking the Owino street market, a chaotic sprawl of tarps, cardboard boxes, and just about any second-hand item from America you can imagine: shoes, shirts, radios, backpacks, batteries. Inside it was a muggy, claustrophobic sea of mud, splintered wooden planks, and vendors crouched next to their parcel of merchandise. Conveniently, the bus depot was only a block away, and I easily bought a ticket and boarded a rather civilized bus headed west for Fort Portal.

The 300km journey took only 7 hours, with the usual mysterious stops along the way, for which everyone had their own explanation. I’ve learned that questions such as when will we get there? or how long will it take? are futile in Africa. And the most challenging aspect of public transportation is not the inefficiency, but rather the pervasive, nauseating stench brewing among the passengers. Thus, window seats are imperative.



Many times the only means of public transport is the matatu (above): a rusted, squealing minivan brimming with up to 20 humans along with produce and livestock, driven by an overly aggressive teenager with nothing to lose. Speeding down highways and side streets on tiny bald tires, they whiz past cattle, bicyclists, and pedestrians like slalom poles. Fun for the whole family!

Mountains of the Moon


About an hour south of Fort Portal, I hopped out of a matatu at a lonely intersection, home to a dozen or so loitering young men and a chapatti stand. I quickly found a kid with a boda-boda (motorcycle) to give me a ride to Ruboni campground, 16km up a steep river canyon to the edge of the dense forests of Rwenzori National Park.



As I approached the park office later that day to inquire about trekking, I roused the two staff who were asleep on the benches outside the office. They informed me of the park regulation that a guide is required to enter the park. I asked, “Will I encounter poisonous snakes, leopards, or elephants?”
“No. Very rare.”
“Then why must I be accompanied by a guide carrying an assault rifle?”
“Ahhh- yes, the animals.”
In reality, I believe the purpose of the guide was to protect me from people, not animals. We were hiking less than 10km from the porous border with Congo, and it was not unheard of for guerrillas to enter Uganda from DRC and kidnap tourists. And, of course, it created a job for Eric.



Eric charged $5 per day as a guide. For a tip, I gave him a pair of Ray Bans that I found on the trail; he could sell them at Owino market in Kampala for nearly one month’s income. Eric’s physical fitness, English fluency, and knowledge of Rwenzori biology were rather mediocre. But he was a nice guy and I let him lead most of the way as a show of respect. After all, he was carrying an AK 47…

Lake Nkuruba


Stumbling upon Lake Nkuruba was a heartening improvement from the rigors of Kenya. A lush perch atop a hill with bandas (bungalows), hammocks, loads of monkeys, and several full-time cooks; a place you could easily waste away several days of doing nothing. The surrounding area is a dormant volcanic region beneath the Rwenzori Mountains, dotted with crater lakes among small villages and banana plantations.



Leo is surely one of the older men in the community, at age 62. A brick-maker, father of five, grandfather of perhaps a dozen, and a genuine statesman.

Kampala, Uganda

Uganda was appealing because I knew nothing about it. It sounded a bit off the beaten path, so I decided to wing it in good style - no plans, no arrangements, totally clueless about practicalities such as currency, entry requirements, accommodation, and food. Where the heck is Kampala anyways?

The 14-hour, cross-border night bus from Nairobi could have been worse. It brought back memories... I sat in the far rear corner of the bus, sandwiched between the window and a huge woman, my backpack on my lap.

Uganda is much more pleasant than Kenya. The infrastructure is far better, and people are mellow ("lazier than Kenyans" as a cab driver put it). Less harassment on the streets, and lacking the anonymous Kenya engagements that go something like this:

"Hello! Mista! Where from? Which country?"
"States."
"Ahhh, the United States of America. Barack Obama! Los Angeles, Miami."
"Yes, that's right, President Obama..."
"There is much prejudice in the States?"
"Prejudice? Nope, not anymore. That's why we have Obama."
"You have time to talk with me? I want to ask you many question about your country."
"Sorry friend, have to be going."
" You are prejudice? Don't want to talk with African man?"

Kenya: let the haggling begin!

Independent travel in Kenya has proven to be very difficult and, for all intents and purposes, not really an option. Dealing with safari operators is a protracted card game, and behind every poker face the same relentless, singular goal: milk every last dollar imaginable from the tourist!! In fact, the more effective you are at negotiating favorable terms and pricing, the more you simply drive operators to promise things they don’t intend to deliver. One thing is for sure: honesty is not a pillar of business ethic in Kenya.

As in many other places, Kenya has local prices and tourist prices. Kenya’s park fees are no exception: a staggering $60/person/day for gringos, versus $10 for locals. Add to that logistics and you’re deep at least $100/day to see some sights. To experience the real magic of Kenya (i.e. its national parks), be prepared to throw down a bit of scrap and play ball with the slippery safari guides.

dollars for Kenyans, not shillings!
The immigration officer at the Kenyan border demanded that I convert my shillings back to USD in order to pay the $25 visa fee. The Kenya Wildlife Service accepts park fees in dollars, and applies an arbitrary exchange rate for those paying in local currency (78 to the $, vs. current market rate of 76). Go figure… the other day, I was listening to a broadcast session of the Kenyan parliament, and there was lengthy discussion of the threat posed by excessive investments made by American firms in Kenya's energy sector: “mista speaka sir, these foreign investments are strategically dangerous and do not have the Kenyans’ best interests in mind…” It seems the Kenyans need to make up their minds about our dollars – had I been present, I would have kindly pointed out the nearly $600 million Kenya receives annually from the U.S. Agency for International Development.

Masai Mara National Reserve


Curiously spelled differently from its namesake (the Maasai people), Masai Mara is Kenya’s most popular and well-known reserve and occupies the northern reaches of the Serengeti ecosystem, the majority of which lies in Tanzania. The rolling grasslands of the African savannah, peppered with flattop acacia trees, are a site to behold! Not to mention close encounters with the big cats and endless masses of wildebeest and zebras. Mara is the Africa we’ve all seen on Animal Planet; witnessing it in person can by itself easily justify a trip to Kenya.

Lake Nakuru National Park
The joke in Lake Nakuru is on the tourists, and the baboons get the last laugh. These clever little beasts pounce on safari jeeps by the dozen, darting through windows and roofs with a keen eye for junk food. In uncanny, anthropomorphic form, the baboons playfully bounce antennas and examine themselves in side-view mirrors.



Meanwhile, pink flamingoes swarm the alkaline shores of Lake Nakuru, forming a dynamic mass that rings the lake’s entire circumference. The flock is alive with activity along its edge as birds shuffle and jockey from one spot to the next.

Amboseli National Park


Truth be told, Amboseli was a sad sight. Having not had proper rain for over a year and a half, the plains are conspicuously devoid of the grasses that support large mammals. Perished elephants and zebra abound, lying for weeks unperturbed by scavengers or predators. This is in sharp contrast to Masai Mara, where little remains of a fallen animal after a day or so, save some scattered bones. Amboseli is best known for the view of Mt. Kilimanjaro it offers as a backdrop to its myriad animal life; sadly, the weather permitted only a faint glimpse of Kili while I was visiting. Amboseli is also an amazing place to observe elephants, which have acclimated to the presence of people due to ongoing research there for many years.