Trying to Describe Kenya

Breathtaking sunset, Nanyuki, Kenya

The other day I tried to describe Kenya to someone and I was kind of at a loss. How do you describe living a dream, a fantasy to someone? I've travelled to a lot of major cities and to a lot of places in this world, but I have never been in jaw-dropping awe of someplace every moment I was there before.

I always dreamed of Kenya. Born Free was on the television - perhaps the Wide World of Disney on Sunday? I had to have been no more than three or four. What I saw made me obsessed with lions and Kenya for decades after. I can't tell you why I never took a job travelling or just backpacked for a few years. I took the responsible job route and have lived to regret it.

But I had the opportunity to travel to Kenya last year on my honeymoon. For most women the wedding was the high point - to be honest I wanted to get that over with so we could be on a plane for our short (NOT) 2 day trip to Kenya.

Arriving in Kenya was easy. We waited on line for really less than an hour to get entry into the country. We got our Visas right at the airport. I remember having our passport stamped with Kenya on it - such excitement!

We had a driver waiting for us since we had just missed the flight to Amboselli and had to take a minivan the four hour trip. Directly out of the airport - right in Nairobi - we saw our first giraffe. A giraffe! In the wild! After about 2 hours driving we stopped to get a soda and some gas and then took our turn off the main road and into Masailand. We passed the local Maasai market where everything from cloth to fruit to goats were traded. And then the land opened up. It just literally opened up to the biggest sky I've ever seen. The air was dry and thin. The sky was bigger, bluer, more three dimensional than I've ever seen it. It was like when Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz lands in Oz and black and white turns to technicolor. The land and the air smelled too - a good smell of dryness, dirt and faint animal smells. What I remember noting is that everything was so dry. Kenya isn't a jungle - it's a savanna and the colors are green and gold and red and brown.

Young elephant in Amboselli

As we drove to our first camp, our driver picked up and dropped off various people - Maasai tribesmen getting a lift in their day. I remember looking at us in our khakhis and our beige clothing with our beige skin and looking at them - with their dark brown skin nd their red robes and tons of beadwork bracelets, belts, necklaces, earrings that would make any woman jealous. Every safari book admonished us to get a wardrobe of beige and khaki. This helps camouflage you to the animals. What a crock - our guides were as colorful as peacocks! And far more beautiful. I look at our pictures and compare their color to our blandness and I laugh!

On safari

We stayed at Porini Ecocamps - totally solar powered, they sit on conservancies. We went to a Maasai village and I remember the people - how we as Americans would think of them as "poor" or "in need of help". These people need nothing from us. They are rich in culture, in family, in beauty, in livestock and in land. They have natural remedies for everything from coughs to bug bites to animal scratches. They are far wiser than us. And they do go to school. In fact a lot of the people we met go to university in Nairobi and come back to live in their villages. Culture and tradition is important to them and they strive to not lose that. The only thing they would like from us is for us to come to Kenya so that they can earn an honest wage as a cook or a driver or a guide.

Beautiful Maasai Girl

But I haven't spoken about the animals. The only thing I can say is that to see these animals that we've all seen in pictures and in zoos here...in person...living, running, playing, having babies and even dying is a gift that I will cherish forever. Now more than ever I feel the need to protect nature and wildlife.

In our travels throughout the country, we saw elephants nurturing and protecting the smallest possibly newborn elephant I've ever seen. We saw a pride of lions on a hunt at night - their calls so deep that the ground shakes. We saw two male lions - brothers - one healthy and robust, the other bony and sickly. The healthy one will stay with the sick brother, making sure he is fed, making sure he is not attacked. He will stay with this brother until the brother is well or dies. He will stay even if it means his death.

small lion, big world

We saw Mt. Kenya's snow capped peak and the Abadare mountain range. We saw lions nursing their cubs. We saw warthog families runnin, teeny babies in tow with their tails straight in the air, like flags waving. We saw a cheetah mother teach her cubs to hunt and a zebra separated from her herd - limping, knowing she probably wouldn't make it through the night.

And we saw death. We saw an elephant that died stuck in a mudhole. We saw the carcass of a wildebeest that had died while still running - the body eternally in a run position. We saw an antelope carcass in a tree, it's horns hooked onto a branch. Placed there by a leopard so she could come back and finish her meal.

Eat or be eaten - first rule.

But we mostly saw life. Life in every form. The struggle to say alive, be it hunter or prey. The life in Kenya's people - full of pride and laughter.

They say Kenya and the Great Rift Valley is the origin of mankind, perhaps the origin of all living beings. Being there that's easy to believe. The land, the very air is alive and she sings a song. It's a song of freedom. It's a song of coming home. And that's the only way I can describe Africa - for all her strangeness and differentness to the United States - it's like coming home.

Freezing on the Equator

One of the places we visited in Kenya was Porini Rhino Camp. Porini Rhino Camp is located in the ol Pejeta conservancy in Nanyuki, Kenya. Nanyuki is located on the Equator. It's also located in the foothills of the Abadare mountain range and is at an elevation if over 6,000 ft. When you think of Africa, especially Kenya, especially being on the equator - you think of, well - hot weather. At least I do. And living in Miami for the past four years, that's a good thing because I totally gave up any tollerance for cold weather whatsoever and now am a total heat dweller - if it gets below 65 degrees, I'm shutting down...

So we fly into the Nanyuki airstrip - which by Kenya standards is a huge airport - they even have a giftshop and restaurant (Barnies). We land and see the airstrip on the equator sign - pretty remarkable. This is also the place to see rhino, wild dogs and cheetah - promising so far. we get into the land rover and make our way to camp - it's about a 2 hour trip to camp but these rides also double as game rides so the time goes by slowly when you are searching for rhino and zebra.

This conservancy has a rich history - it was actually owned by Lord Delamere from Out of Africa fame. The conservancy also was the home at one point to Adnan Khasoggi. There is the Jane Goodal Chimpanzee Refuge on this land and at 90,000 acres, is the largest rhino conservation area in Kenya. The land is much more lush than in Amboselli, which was more desert-like and much drier. And the mountains - you can see Mt. Kenya in the distance - beautiful and snow capped. Simply breathtaking.

We arrive at the camp and meet the camp manager, Ben. I immediately love this guy - he is all smiles and stories. It's apparent that he loves where he is and what he does and also loves to hear as well as tell a good story. Ben will spend every breakfast lunch and dinner with us as our host, our dinner guest and our entertainment - and this is most welcome by us.

We have a walk with Maasai in the conservancy and a lovely lunch under a giant tree - most wonderful. We then go for our traditional sundowner (unlike thanksgiving and christmas dinners with dysfunctional families - this, my friends, is a tradition worth taking note of. As far as traditions go, this is one that everyone should take up). Sundowners are just as they sound - you have a cocktail as the sun goes down. Only here, you're taken by open land rover to a hilltop, a campfire is made for you and you have a "bush" gin and tonic (no ice in the bush) while watching a mother cheetah teach her almost grown cubs to hunt. Does it get any better? I don't think so (but I'm open to it).

I am so fascinated that I don't realize the sun going down means the night setting in. And our guides bringing out down jackets for themselves make me think I'm in for a long night! By the time we get back to camp, I'm hiding under layers of traditional Maasai blankets. Who turned down the hear? This is Africa! When the hell did it get to be about 40 degrees F? Huh? Before dinner we literally put on every layer of clothing we have -I totally look like a crazy person - wearing black socks with my hiking sandals, a baseball cap - yup - this is my sexy honeymoon look alright! Hot hot hot!

Another wonderful meal with Ben, a chat by the fire (warmth) and then it's off to our tent. I'm in the bathroom and Jack gets into bed and I hear a scream - "there's an animal in our bed"! Shit - what kind of little furry thing with large teeth got into the tent? Too big for a real predator - maybe a mongoose? Jack is out of the bed by now - (let's get this straight - Jack is a real guy. He flies planes for a living. He does things in the air that make me sick thinking of it. He would walk a tightrope from our building on the 16th floor to the one across the street without thinking twice. But....when it comes to critters, especially spiders - that's my department). I pull the covers and it's....a.......hot water bottle. covered in a fuzzy material to make it cuddlier, I guess. We hear the Maasai guard ask if we're alright - we say yes - I'm sure he gets this every night.

The bed is really cozy - just me, Jack and our Nanyuki pet....the hot water bottle.

Hemingway and I

I am a complete and total animal rights activist. I want animals to be protected and to live out their lives free from hunting, torturing and being caged. I could no more think of eating a burger or wearing a fur than I could eating and wearing my dog. It's that insane a thought.

So it always seems strange to me that I am so fascinated by Earnest Hemingway. There are some reasons - we share a birthday (July 21st), we share a fascination and love of Key West, Cuba, drinking and the written word. I think we might have been friends, if he could be friends with a woman (and I think he could have. In fact I think contrary to popular belief he loved and respected women. If you read his books you'll know what I mean). But he was a hunter. A fisherman. He loved bullfights. I was in Key West, as I am in Key West every July 21st for OUR birthday (mine and Hemingway's). There was a thunderstorm of biblical proportions and we ducked into the local bookstore (Island Books - wonderful place). I looked at the obligatory Hemingway section and found "Hunting with Hemingway", Hemingway on Hunting", Blood in the Afternoon" and other Hemingway books on hunting, bullfighting, etc. So interesting.

After the rain stopped, I walked over to the Hemingway House. Hemingway left a trust for his cats and their descendants to be cared for. His biography said he never got over the loss of his dog, Black Dog. And that his cats were his sole writing companions. I spoke to Hemingway (it's said his ghost is attracted by the Hemingway celebrations during his birthday and comes back to the tiny Island City of Key West). I asked him why the duality?

Well, Ernest didn't answer me (though I did get an orb in my picture), but I think I got the answer on my own. Hemingway was a product of his time and so much more. I think he loved women and animals. I think he suffered from manic depression and had suicidal tendencies. I think he was very sensitive and sad and masked that with every macho thing he could do. I think he bought into the hunting to save the animals hoo haw. To be macho. To hide the pain.

Much has been written about Hemingway - good and bad. It's been written that he hunted hyena with a machine gun, but that he respected all the large cats he killed. It's been written that he adored all his cats and dogs and tried to save the stray dogs of Cuba. It's also been written that after two failed suicide attempts, his last wife unlocked the keys to the gun chest and let him know she did it.

There are many ghost stories about Key West. In Key West it's not only possible but likely that an author who had some good years in an island paradise should want to roam the town, stopping in to Sloppy Joe's for a drink and having a good chuckle about the Hemingway lookalike contests and the riding of the bulls down Duval Street even years after his death. If Hemingway does roam Key West, we'll meet someday. And I'll finally get to tell him my theory about him - that he felt way too much.....

Scrabble Tournament in Kenya

November, 2008

Jack and I were at our first camp of three in Kenya. I was in heaven - wildlife, amazing people, sleeping in a tent and being awakened by Maasai bringing coffee in bed. I mean this was the fantasy come to life. Our camp was Porini Amboselli Camp - situated near the famous Amboselli National Park - home to elephant and dust devils.

The camp Manager was named Tony. He was a little aloof and in this heat in the bush (very dusty) he wore a white sport jacket. Jack nicknamed him Mr. Rourke (from Fantasy Island). Tony didn't really mingle with us - he left us to our own accord - possibly because he knew we were on out honeymoon, possibly because he had better things to do than talking to American tourists - like run the camp. On our last day at this particular camp, I asked Jack if he wanted to play scrabble with me. I always bring my portable scrabble game with me everywhere I go. And I always force Jack to play. And he always loses and when he starts losing he gets a little whiny and he sabotages the game so he will lose faster. It's kind of a game within a game. We play. Jack gets bored. Loses big time. Starts with the abbreviations (FAA is not a word, honey).

Sooooo I mention to Jack that we have to play scrabble and Tony the aloof camp manager overhears and says "scramble? I love scramble". Jack volunteers him to play with me. OK before dinner TOny and I will play scramble (I love scramble. so much a more appropriate name for the game, don't you think?).....So we get changed for dinner and Tony and I play scramble. Tony is good. And takes it seriously. There is no scramble dictionary so we make some new rules. No Swahili. English only, please. And if someone challenges a word and the other player can't use it in a sentence and give a definition it goes off the board. This makes up for a slight language and culture (Kenyans are schooled in the British way and spelling is British rules) difference.

Anyway, we play. And Tony is good. But I am winning. By now, there are about a dozen Maasai warriors around the game. And the chef is yelling that the soup is burning. Doesn't matter - what matters is the game. I finally found someone who takes this seriously and he's in Kenya....go figure. Well, I'm thinking is it OK for the camp manager to get beaten by an American woman? Will the Maasai give him respect? Hell with that - I'm winning! So I win. TOny shakes my hand and asks for a rematch. I'd love to, I explain, but our flight out of Amboselli is at like 10 am and it's a 2 hour trip to the airstrip and so sad, too bad, maybe next time. So Tony says, I will wake you up at 4am so we can play. Sure, buddy. Go for it I say.


Four AM. Jack and I see a lantern in our sleep traveling toward the tent. "That's your wake up call", Jack says. Oh damn - this guy was serious. I throw on some shorts and my glasses, stumble out of the nice warm tent and into the night trailing a Maasai warrior with a lantern and a spear. There is a fire burning, strong hot coffee waiting and a table with.....the scrabble board all set up. Tony is there with his sport jacket - how the hell does he look dapper at 4am in the middle of Kenya?

We play and to make it more interesting we make a bet. If he wins he gets the scrabble (ahem, scramble) board. We play. Again more Maasai show up. Jack shows up to watch. This is an epic battle - wars were fought over less - woman vs. man. US vs. Kenya. City vs. Savannah. Some words are challenged (apoem is not a word, Tony. yes it is - I wrote apoem. Nooooo)...

As the sun starts to rise, the birds join the tournament. Thousands of birds, millions of birds. Singing and waking. Chattering and flying. As we play scrabble by the fire, the firey sun rises over the African plain. And as I play, I am aware that this incredible and surreal moment in my life will certainly never come again. I am in Africa. I am playing scrabble by the firelight as the sun rises over the land I have dreamed about all my life. I am losing this game that is being watched by Maasai - the most beautiful and majestic people I have ever seen.

I wind up losing. And shaking Tony's hand. And presenting him with the game. He is a formidable opponent and a new friend. We promise each other a rematch. I will make good. Someday.

July 2009 - Just received a message from Wilson, our guide at Amboselli Porini Camp in Kenya. He was playing scrabble. I smiled.