It takes so little to make people feel welcome: a handshake, an introduction by name, or maybe a cold beverage. Kindness goes a long way to making a stranger feel at home.
The Kenyan people are amongst the loveliest and friendliest people we have encountered on our travels. Everybody, from drivers/guides to managers, waiters, and room attendants, has extended open arms and a solicitous embrace. Sometimes, it can be difficult for our North American sensibilities to discover that people just want to be kind. Even during a small hiccup like our jeep breaking down in the Mara this morning, the Hakuna Matata attitude is prevalent. (That's a real phrase, by the way.) "No worries. We've found you another jeep with a new driver." Of course, he's a newbie and got a bit lost on the way back to camp, but we just said. Hakuna Matata.
Many times since we got here, I have felt like I am in The Lion King. It is not an exaggeration to suggest that Disney did a great job capturing this part of the world. The starkness and desolation of the landscape are striking. They desperately need rain right now and are praying to any god and using any folk tale that might bring it. The riverbeds are drying up, and the animals are starting to thirst for green pastures. It is part of the difficult life cycles and weather patterns here on the Mara. Even the acacia trees are parched.
We left Ol Pejeta yesterday and flew (if what we did could actually be called flying) to Encounter Mara in the Maasai territory. I won't belabour this transportation nightmare, but it needs to be said that this is not a great tourist attraction. We did a milk run. Four stops for a trip that should have taken forty-five minutes. Some of those flights were less than six minutes. I don't recommend it, but now that I am of a sounder mind, the alternatives are worse. Either a six-hour jeep ride, or there is always the two-footed way. As much as I can't stomach these flights (insert your pun groan here), I am fully aware that they are really the best options. We sat at dinner last night with the assistant manager of the camp. Mercy regaled us with fabulous stories of her Maasai heritage, and then she told us how afraid she is to fly on these flights. That doesn't really inspire confidence. I will keep getting on these balsa wood contraptions that are held together by chewing gum and rubber bands because it is part of the adventure. I am actually counting down the remaining flights in my head. When I get to a workable number, I will let you know.
I mentioned somewhere that we are all operating on very little sleep. That's because we are at the whims of the animals and their habits. If my thought process in these missives is a bit muddled, blame it on the lack of sleep and the copious amounts of antiemetics I've been taking. My grammar and spelling may be a bit rough. Be kind. This morning, we were out of here by 4:30am to drive to our balloon safari. If you haven't been ballooning, I highly recommend it. It is so beautiful and peaceful. From our perch several thousand feet above the savannah, we could see herds of zebras, wildebeest, ostriches, impala, eland, and some very shy lions. (We knew they were there, but we couldn't see them.) There was a glorious sunrise, and it was a wonderful way to get a different view of the territory. Breakfast on the ridge followed. This was a good way to fly.
Several of you have mentioned to me that you might be interested in this trip or a similar one someday. We should talk offline about it. It is magical, spectacular, and definitely not for everyone. I am not trying to dissuade anybody, but some of the conditions are tough, even in our glamping style of travel. The continent of Africa is big. So big! Plan wisely.
A few photos to keep you sated.
