Kenya

Singing Masaai Warrior

 

A LAKE OF PINK

Lake Nakuru National Park, situated in the Rift Valley, is renown both as a sanctuary for black rhinos and for million flamingoes. The brackish water (called a soda lake) of the lake is an attraction to the flamingoes, which reside here when there is water in the lake. We were treated to a captivating landscape of a blue lake, home to white pelicans, pink flamingoes, buffaloes, and antelope grazing on the green shoreline. It doesn’t get much better.

Black rhinos are the victims of man’s quest for enhancement; hunted and poached for their horns they are now an endangered species. We had yet to encounter a black rhino. Lake Nakuru has become a sanctuary for them as the small park is surrounded by an electric fence. The fence is to keep the rhinos and leopards in and the poachers out.

Rhinos are solitary animals and very territorial. We spotted the rhino in the bush; he seemed agitated, spraying the trees and marking his territory. He saw us approaching and turned towards us, looking at us menacingly
Colourful Sale his agitation increasing. The dust whirled around as he headed towards us.

Tom wondering if we should move, “No way,” I said, “sit tight, and watch.”

As he gathered speed, we saw the cause of his enraged mood, large gashes both on his side and under his head. This rhino had obviously just been wounded in battle with another rhino. The wounds were very new, blood still running down his sides. He slowed to a trot and then stood still and glared at us, we made no movement or noise. After a minute or so, he walked up to the car and crossed the road in front of us. He was spectacular, a giant of an animal. What a crime that men would slaughter this animal just for a horn.

Baboon

No matter how many game parks we have visited we never tire of the magic of being so close to nature and encountering the wildlife. That night we slept under the stars in an unfenced campsite, listening to the strange and wondrous sound that Mother Nature offers up when one gets a chance to visit on her terms.

NAIROBBERY OR NAIRATTERY

Nairobi has a bad reputation and both the locals, and travelers know it, as “Nairobbery.” Regarded as the most dangerous city in Africa, we were somewhat hesitant in our decision to visit the city. The largest slum in Africa belongs
Tsavo Lion with Reputation to Nairobi. The National news headlines were about corruption and fraud at the government levels, and severe drought and starvation face thousands in Northern Kenya. There did not seem to be much appeal to the city.

On our first night in Nairobi, we were in fact attacked but not by thugs, but by humongous menacing rats. They spent the entire night running all over our car both inside and outside, knocking over objects and continuously setting off the car alarm. They built nests in our engine, chewed through our containers, and generally made themselves quite at home.

After a disturbed night we cleaned out the car, threw away the food put anything we could in the fridge and hoped for the best.

Right of Way

Second night they were back in force, same noises, and car alarm being set off. Tom leapt down from the tent only to be charged, by an ugly, monstrous rat scurrying out of a container.

“We need metal containers,” lamented Tom.

“They would bring a can opener,” I replied. I felt we were in a losing battle if only we had a cat. Nairobi could also be called, “Nairattery”

Yet, we both left Nairobi feeling we could live here; it is a vibrant, colourful, and noisy city. No other city is in such close proximity to a National Wild Life Park, so close to an Elephant orphanage and a Giraffe Center. Nairobi has it all.

Lizard Sunning

MAN AND ELEPHANT A STORY OF COMMITTMENT

Elephants are my favourite wild animal so a trip to David Sheldrick Elephant Orphanage was on the top of my to-visit list while in Nairobi.

The little group of eight elephant orphans, the youngest only 5months, squealed with delight, and with their trunks waving in the air they ran towards their bottles of milk. The smallest elephants had to have their trunks supported by large blanket bundles, as they are yet unable to support their trunk. The bundle acts like its mother’s body, on which the baby rests its trunk while drinking in the wild.

Evening at Lake Nakuru

The orphans are fed on demand about every “three hours” both day and night. Their keeper sleeps with the elephant, and when the elephant needs to feed it wakes its keeper up for its bottle.

The keeper’s primary role is to “mother” the orphan and teach it what it needs to know before it can be reintegrated into the wild. The orphans are returned to the wild at about 2 years of age. As elephants are a social and loving animal, a wild elephant herd will easily adopt and take care of any young elephant that comes to them. The keepers slowly introduce the young elephant to the wild herd in a game park. It depends somewhat on the personality of the young elephant as to how quickly they adjust to their new family. Outgoing and gregarious the youngsters quickly adjust to their new family while the timid ones may need more encouragement from their keeper.

A lake of Colour

With full tummies, it was time for the elephants to learn how to roll and play in the mud. Put together eight little elephants, water and mud pools, a large inflated inner tube and eight keepers with buckets and I forgot about the seriousness of the play and simply enjoyed the interaction of man and animal at its best.

The elephants can only be visited from 1100-1200, as the days are spent with the keepers who walk and care for the elephant in the bush amongst the other wild animals.

To be an elephant orphan keeper requires dedication and hard work,
Angry Rhino yet it surely must be one of the most rewarding jobs in the world. What I would not give but to be an elephant keeper.

You can visit the David Sheldrick Orphan Elephant website and learn about each one of the orphans we met and better still, you can sponsor one.

LOVELY LOLA

Lola stood tall, leaning over the railing she put out her long tongue and gently removed the nut from my fingers. Lola is a Rothchild giraffe, beautiful long slender neck, beautiful patterned skin, large brown eyes with long eyelashes, soft and fuzzy lips, and a long black tongue. The giraffe tongue is eighteen inches long, which they use for stripping leaves off a branch.

Black and White Colobus Monkey

We spent the afternoon with the Lola and the other giraffes at the Giraffe Centre located in Nairobi. To have experienced the giraffe in the wild and then to have an opportunity to actually meet one and touch one was very special.

SEPARATING THE MEN FROM THE BOYS

The Kenyan road leading north towards the Ethiopian border has the reputation of being the “worst road in Africa.” We have met many people who have traveled between Ethiopia and Kenya and they all have the same warnings. All travel books give the same advice and warnings.

The Kenyan road leading north between Isiolo, Marsibit and Moyale (the Ethiopian border) is “dangerous,” “terrible,” “you need to travel in convoy,” “there are bandits attacks,” “it is too unsafe,” “sharp rocks on the road shred your tires,” “the corrugations cracks the suspensions and shocks absorbers,” “check on the safety before you go” and the warnings go on.

Our last stop before heading out on this infamous road was a campsite in Nairobi. There were several other couples at the campsite that had just made the journey from Ethiopia on this infamous road.

Pelican in Flight

They shared their stories.

“We rolled our car just north of Marsibit the corrugations are just so horrendous.”

“One of our shock absorbers needed to be replaced but we only got 3 punctures.”

“We only had one puncture but both our shock absorbers needed to be replaced.”

“Never again we had 26 punctures.”

“I decided not to ride my bike. I took a truck as they said there was a bandit attack two weeks ago and it was just too dangerous.”

“Don’t bother going in a convoy everyone goes at a different speed so it is useless.”

Thirsty Elephant

“Don’t go alone, go in convoy.”

Tom and I did everything we felt we needed to do before we left. There was no other car going north so we were going to do this stretch of road on our own. The trip would take us 3 days. We left Nairobi and arrived early in the evening in Isiolo. We had a restless night knowing tomorrow we head for Marsabit on the infamous Isiolo-Moyale road.

We were up early the following morning as planned to leave early to give ourselves lots of time. The campsite owner gave us his personal phone number “just call me if you run into any trouble,” he said reassuringly.

Mud Bath

The road is bad, 277km of continuous corrugations but we had traveled worse roads in Africa. We passed the soldiers with rifles on the roadside went through several police roadblocks still with no problems.

Suddenly there was a car stopped ahead, and several men in the middle of the road waving us to stop. We glanced at each other not sure, if we should stop or hit the gas pedal. We couldn’t see any guns and decided to stop to see if they needed help.

We slow down and as I wind my window down one men rushes towards my window saying something which I do not understand.

Keepers and a Day at the Office

“English.” I say.

They were just needing, a push start. After several attempts of us rear ending them, the purr of their engine was heard. Lots of cheers and grateful thanks to us and we were all back on our ways.

We arrived in Marsibit headed for the nearest garage to ask for directions to “Henry the Swiss.”

It was while we were making supper I noticed there is petrol leaking out of the spare fuel tank.

Lola

After a close inspection under the car Tom emerged dusty and oily, “we definitely have a leak but I can’t see where it is coming from we will have to take it to a garage tomorrow and put the car over a pit so we can so that I can get a better view.”

Later that evening another overlander couple arrived, having driven from the Ethiopian border to Marsibit going south. Markos and Giselle arrived late, because they had had a puncture. They inspected their car later and discovered a leaf of their rear springs had broken. It would need to be repaired before they could continue.

Infamous Road

The only place we would all be heading for tomorrow is a garage and a mechanic

Marsabit is a dusty little town, unlike any other Kenyan town. Many refugees from both war torn Somalia and drought-stricken Ethiopia together with “warring” Kenyan tribes all living together. Marsabit known as the “wild west frontier town of Africa,” is a town of survivors each with their story.

We headed for a garage to where on closer inspection; they found a crack in the spare fuel tank and it would need to be repaired before we could go on. It would be an all day job since the fuel tank needed to be removed and 200 litres of petrol drained from it. Then the tank needed to braised and welded before it could be replaced and the fuel replaced. We were in for a whole day of making some good friends with lots of learning.

Victim of Drought

It is always the same pattern. The “garage” looks more like a wrecking yard, certainly not the kind of dealership places we are used to in North America. On entering, the man in charge will appear and after a quick examination will declare what the problem is, and what repairs are needed. It is at this point you both suck your breath in and go for it or you thank them kindly and leave. It is all in the sound of the voice, confident and competent or the inverse. There are no other signs to help you with your decision. I decided that this person knew what he was doing
Helping with a Push and so I gave him the OK. Then there is a flurry of activity as he directs his minions and once again, you are left in the dark since it is all done in the local language of which I did not have a smattering. I just hang around. Well it does not take to long before word gets a round that a “mzungu” (white man) is in town. Cautiously we start to interact. The garage people, their pals as well as other customers all want to know, where am I from? What is Canada like? Are we really driving cross Africa? How many children do we have etc. etc. etc? I become equally curious about their lives and then they really get going. In the end, their hopes and aspirations are very much like ours. They all simply want a better life for themselves and their families. Their problems, struggles, and obstacles however are much greater than ours will ever be. By the time the tank was back in its right place, names and addresses had been swapped, and we had made some interesting friends in a strange little place in a remote corner of Northern Kenya.

In Search of Water

The cause of the leak in the fuel tank was truly frightening. We had been sitting on a time bomb without knowing it. The mount holding the exhaust had broken loose from all thebad roads we had traveled. The loose exhaust pipe had rubbed against the tank and worn away the metal leaving a series of tiny holes. Fortunately, the exhaust pipe itself was still okay; otherwise, we would have high temperature exhaust fumes blowing directly into a flammable tank. I still feel weak at the knees thinking of the consequences. I am grateful to the “garage guys’ for being there when we needed them and for whatever angel is taking care of us. I vowed to make regular mechanical checks every time we go over bad roads.

Dried riverbed

After goodbyes, Markos and Gisele would be staying a few extra days as they had ordered four new leaf springs which would have to come from Nairobi, we set off for the final 250km of the infamous road to the Ethiopian border. We shook, bounced, and rattled, but fortunately no bandits or even a puncture. We had made it safely to the border, or so we thought. At Moyale, we were met with children throwing rocks at us, a man screaming he was going to murder us and teenagers giving us crude signs.

We head for a campsite and some curious very skinny cows wandered across the sand to stare at us. The camp owner says there is “no water” but otherwise we are welcome.

Tomorrow we cross the border into Ethiopia.