We woke up early for breakfast. I shivered a little as we waited to be seated; it was cool outside: the dry landscape was just starting to warm up from a frigid evening.
After breakfast, I took my pills: anti-malarials, vitamins and accutane, making sure to down them with bottled water and not tap water. The accutane had been causing me problems: I was told one of the symptoms was depression. I wasn't depressed, but easily annoyed. Every time my dad said some thing dumb, which was often, I could feel my irritability come to a boil. I struggled to keep a lid on it.
We hopped into the jeep and headed down the hill with a full day of animal-watching ahead of us. I yearned see something new, not just large herbivores grazing around like we had seen in Arusha and Manyara, but predators: lions, cheetahs, leopards and hyenas, hopefully during a kill.
Our journey was interrupted by a herd of elephants. Somehow, my dad completely missed them; I berated him for this stupidity. These elephants were far bigger than the ones in Manyara. Serengeti was no resort: only the biggest and the bravest survived. But, like the elephants at Manyara, they were eating everything in site.
As we explored the central Serengeti, we came upon a herd of Zebra crossing our path, a seemingly endless line of black and white stretching from a gully to our right to the vast plains to our left. There were buffalo and wildebeest; they were on the move too. I sensed I was witnessing a the beginning of a great movement of life, the beginning of the great migration.
You could also feel a tension in the air. The Zebra were going crazy, shrieking and kicking as they went by. I heard a story of a man who had tamed a Zebra, though it was still a bit wild. They are always on edge; they have to be. I would be too if lions could be lurking around every corner.
Our vehicle arrived at a viewing point. There were about a half-dozen jeeps overlooking a small stream gully. It was a great scene; the whole image was like a baroque painting, a canvass filled with every kind of wild beast. There were about a hundred buffalo keeping a close eye on a pride of lions devouring the carcass of one of their own. It was mostly bones now, a giant rack of overturned ribs like you see in the opening of The Flintstones. Vultures perched on acacias to my right, taking in the scene like us, patiently waiting their turn.
With my mom's hunting binoculars, I could clearly see the pride of lions. There were cubs, a few females and a male lion lying in the shade. He looked like Aslan, just sitting there magnificently while his wives do all the work. You can be lazy when you're king of the Savannah. Suddenly, he got up and make quick, efficient love to one of the lionesses. It lasted only about ten seconds.
Simon got a call and we were on the move again. We stopped in the middle of an open plain alongside a row of jeeps. Another cheetah. It was sitting in the shade of a lonely tree in the vast plains.
All of a sudden, it started walking directly towards us. The way it approached brought back memories of encountering in Dark Link in the Ocarina of Time, bringing back a sense of fear I was stared down by glowing eyes. It walked right up to our jeep and then alongside our row of jeeps. We were humbled by the surprise visit of this beast. In the distance, we could see a lone gazelle on the horizon; it was clearly in the cheetah's sights. We wanted to see a kill, just like how boxing spectators want to see a KO. It wasn't out of blood lust, it was about trying to get the fullest experience during our short time there. But we weren't as patient as the cheetah and moved on to see other animals.
As we drove along, Simon told us horror stories of people who were foolish enough to wander outside their vehicles. One dumb tourist got out of his jeep and was mauled by a hiding lion. He was saved by the jeep's driver. Unfortunately, things weren't so lucky for a kid who wandered out of his tent and attacked by a leopard.
We drove further south. The landscape was desolate and in dire need of rain. There were fewer and fewer animals. Simon turned off the main road; he had received some exciting news. They had spotted a leopard. It was difficult to see, but sure enough, I could see spotted limbs hanging lazily from the tree's branches.
It was dry. We encountered another pride of lions. The male lion sat lazily in the grass. Meanwhile, one of the lionesses looked like it had spotted something. It started to prowl and then pounced something in the tall grass. She didn't get anything. A moment later, a rabbit zoomed out of the grass, running like the wind. It ran right by the male lion, but he didn't move so much as a whisker.
The frustrated lioness wasn't done. She was desperate and hungry. She spotted a herd of gazelle. She walked right by our jeep, so close that my dad could have stuck his arm out of the window and stroked her (though if he had done so, he probably would've lost it). We followed it, watching as it prowled in the tall grass, each step getting it closer to its potential meal.
However, the odds weren't good for the lioness. Gazelle are much faster than lions and the only way it could get one is if it could get close enough to catch one before it could speed off. She was also hunting alone; there was no other lion to intercept them.
She made here move, but it was too soon. The gazelle ran off before the chase even really started. Another lioness came later and consoled her. It was sad to see her fail, but seeing even an attempted kill was exciting. We left for lunch.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Eurafrika Pt. 14 - "Endless Plains"
I rested in the back of the jeep as we drove to Serengeti, watching the dry Tanzanian scrub land go by. Cattle were herded down the side of the road in search of what little grass remained in the overgrazed, dry terrain. A van with a Chelsea logo on its windshield passed us; I was happy knowing I supported 'Africa's team'.
We drove into a small town. I mentioned earlier that Tanzania was the front lines of the Cola Wars, but there's more to it than that. The shops were all of identical construction and funny names like 'Half London Bar'. They were plastered with signs for Coke; Pepsi; Portman (tobacco); Zain and Vodacom (cell providers). I guess people everywhere love coke, cigarettes and cellphones: the things that make them relax and feel like they are not alone in this world.
Before we knew it, the jungle had returned and we had arrived at the gates of Ngorongoro: a gigantic volcanic crater that is now a wildlife sanctuary. Our jeep climbed the slopes on narrow red dirt roads, overlooking steep gorges . Our guide Simon was a great driver, and he had to be; the road was barely wide enough for two vehicles and trucks came around the bend at speed. As I looked down into the depths below, my dread of heights reemerged. I told myself that if anything happened I would be dead pretty quick and that I did pretty well in life. This seemed to help.
We had reached the crater rim and stopped to take a look. It was like a secret kingdom, protected and hidden from the outside world with giant walls. We didn't linger; we'd be getting a better look after visiting the plains of Serengeti.
We drove along the crater rim; I was shivering a little as it was noticeably cooler. We went through a pass and all of a sudden the lush green jungle and given way to grassy steppe lands. The road looped around a great vale surrounded by mountains on three sides. There were Maasai herders herding sheep not far from their village that lay in the valley below, like their ancestors had been doing centuries ago; it was like looking back in time.
As we left the valley, pasture lands became dry, rocky foothills, like something you would see in Arizona except with acacias instead of cacti. We passed over dry creek beds. The road was bumpy and the sky was filled with dust in this miserable land.
And then the road leveled out and we had reached the Serengeti, the endless plains of Maasai legend. When I first heard of this place, I dreamed of it like being in an ocean of savannah, with only grassy plains as far as the eye can see. And it was an ocean, but only of dry barren plains. The only thing living here was four of us traveling inside the jeep. We stopped so that me and my dad could relieve ourselves. It felt charitable, as we were providing moisture to an area that hadn't seen any in months. It was almost unimaginable that a few months later that these would lush savannas teeming with life.
We had reached the gates of the park itself and the landscape began to improve. There was more and more grass and in the distance a hill rose out of the land as we approached it. According to the map this was Naabi Hill, where the visitors center is and where the park really begins.
Simon got some interesting news on his radio and we broke off the main road. We drove by pride rocks, like the ones in the Lion King, the only landmarks sticking out of the infinite plain of grass. There were jeeps parked ahead and we knew this to be a sign that there was something interesting to see. It was a cheetah, its face covered with the blood of the gazelle it was eating. The agile beast would take a few bites of its meal, focusing on the vitamin rich legs, and then pause to make sure there weren't any lions nearby. Impalas could be seen vigilantly watching in the distance.
We drove further along the dirt path and sure enough there was a pride of lions not too far away. But they posed no threat to the cheetah, they were just sleeping.
We rejoined the main road; we had to get to the lodge as the sun was going down. We weren't the only ones, we passed several trucks, the only lifeline between our accommodations and the outside world. Giraffes could be seen marching along the horizon. Giant hills rose out of the ground and as the sun set you could see little lights on them. This was where our lodge was.
Simon skillfully drove on the road up the hill. We passed these kite-like objects that were hung from trees. Each one had a big blue vertical stripe down the middle. We wondered what these things were.
We arrived at the lodge in darkness. It had been a long day of travel. We were escorted first to our rooms, then to dinner and then back to our rooms: a necessary precaution considering we were in thick of the wilderness at night. Dinner was amazing again. I was excited for what I thought would be the greatest show on earth.
We drove into a small town. I mentioned earlier that Tanzania was the front lines of the Cola Wars, but there's more to it than that. The shops were all of identical construction and funny names like 'Half London Bar'. They were plastered with signs for Coke; Pepsi; Portman (tobacco); Zain and Vodacom (cell providers). I guess people everywhere love coke, cigarettes and cellphones: the things that make them relax and feel like they are not alone in this world.
Before we knew it, the jungle had returned and we had arrived at the gates of Ngorongoro: a gigantic volcanic crater that is now a wildlife sanctuary. Our jeep climbed the slopes on narrow red dirt roads, overlooking steep gorges . Our guide Simon was a great driver, and he had to be; the road was barely wide enough for two vehicles and trucks came around the bend at speed. As I looked down into the depths below, my dread of heights reemerged. I told myself that if anything happened I would be dead pretty quick and that I did pretty well in life. This seemed to help.
We had reached the crater rim and stopped to take a look. It was like a secret kingdom, protected and hidden from the outside world with giant walls. We didn't linger; we'd be getting a better look after visiting the plains of Serengeti.
We drove along the crater rim; I was shivering a little as it was noticeably cooler. We went through a pass and all of a sudden the lush green jungle and given way to grassy steppe lands. The road looped around a great vale surrounded by mountains on three sides. There were Maasai herders herding sheep not far from their village that lay in the valley below, like their ancestors had been doing centuries ago; it was like looking back in time.
As we left the valley, pasture lands became dry, rocky foothills, like something you would see in Arizona except with acacias instead of cacti. We passed over dry creek beds. The road was bumpy and the sky was filled with dust in this miserable land.
And then the road leveled out and we had reached the Serengeti, the endless plains of Maasai legend. When I first heard of this place, I dreamed of it like being in an ocean of savannah, with only grassy plains as far as the eye can see. And it was an ocean, but only of dry barren plains. The only thing living here was four of us traveling inside the jeep. We stopped so that me and my dad could relieve ourselves. It felt charitable, as we were providing moisture to an area that hadn't seen any in months. It was almost unimaginable that a few months later that these would lush savannas teeming with life.
We had reached the gates of the park itself and the landscape began to improve. There was more and more grass and in the distance a hill rose out of the land as we approached it. According to the map this was Naabi Hill, where the visitors center is and where the park really begins.
Simon got some interesting news on his radio and we broke off the main road. We drove by pride rocks, like the ones in the Lion King, the only landmarks sticking out of the infinite plain of grass. There were jeeps parked ahead and we knew this to be a sign that there was something interesting to see. It was a cheetah, its face covered with the blood of the gazelle it was eating. The agile beast would take a few bites of its meal, focusing on the vitamin rich legs, and then pause to make sure there weren't any lions nearby. Impalas could be seen vigilantly watching in the distance.
We drove further along the dirt path and sure enough there was a pride of lions not too far away. But they posed no threat to the cheetah, they were just sleeping.
We rejoined the main road; we had to get to the lodge as the sun was going down. We weren't the only ones, we passed several trucks, the only lifeline between our accommodations and the outside world. Giraffes could be seen marching along the horizon. Giant hills rose out of the ground and as the sun set you could see little lights on them. This was where our lodge was.
Simon skillfully drove on the road up the hill. We passed these kite-like objects that were hung from trees. Each one had a big blue vertical stripe down the middle. We wondered what these things were.
We arrived at the lodge in darkness. It had been a long day of travel. We were escorted first to our rooms, then to dinner and then back to our rooms: a necessary precaution considering we were in thick of the wilderness at night. Dinner was amazing again. I was excited for what I thought would be the greatest show on earth.
Eurafrika Pt. 13 - God's Country
Now that the conference was over, I knew that the real fun stuff was about to begin.
We left the lodge early in the morning and stopped in the nicest building in Arusha for a pre-safari briefing. The guide gave us a talk, basically what we should do so we don't get eaten; I didn't really pay attention; I knew to stay in the jeep.
We drove over endless rolling scrub land, caked with dry red earth and sparse vegetation. Through the mists we traveled, seemingly lost in time and space only knowing that we were going further into the unknown. There was the occasional donkey or herder, drifters in an otherwise lonely landscape.
There's something about a dry landscape that brings thoughts of adventure in me. Maybe it reminds of me of westerns, exploring a final frontier with only the landscape and sparse vegetation to give you company. For some reason the jungle just doesn't evoke the same feelings; it makes me think of Predator and Duran Duran.
As we drove further, the landscape became more lush and there were more and more people. We soon reached a bustling town in the middle of the jungle, filled with people carry goods or trying to sell them. A sign showed we had reached Manyara.
Soon we reached a wall, the longest and greatest wall on the planet: the African Rift valley. Our jeep climbed up the ledge, riding on the back of a giant asphalt worm as it snaked up. We passed giant ancient Baobab trees up the hill, once saplings when the first stones of civilization were being laid.
Before we knew it we had reached the top. In an instant, we were 1000 m higher than we once were. I looked back at the valley, the work of great forces as old as the earth itself splitting the continent apart. In a few million years, the sea of green below would be submerged under an actual one.
We arrived at our lodge. As I walked to our cabin I saw a view that I will be ingrained in the recesses of my mind for as long as I live. Below me lay the entire valley, a land rich in life. Looking south, the jungle faded to great green grassy plains. The grassy plain surrounded a shallow, silver Lake Manyara and was peppered with black dots. These dots were Wildebeest, Zebras and Giraffes. This was God's country and I was standing on his seat where he admired his creation.
The next thing we did was head to lunch. Now the reason I bring this up is that at this point I was a wraith; I had been sick and had not eaten well. I cautiously began eating, as food was something I had come to fear in Africa. But, the food at this lodge was amazing: there were all kinds of exotic fruits with delicious sauces I had never heard of, and it was also exceptionally prepared. I could feel the life return to me with every bite. The spirit of adventure was back.
After lunch, we headed back down to get a look at the valley. We drover past a small farming village with buildings made of mud huts. This area was poorer than the area around Arusha. A boy came up to our jeep; he had caught a chameleon and showed it to us. We snapped a picture before heading down to the park.
Our trek began in the jungle; there were monkeys, bush bucks and exotic birds. I saw two baboons on a log, one grooming the other. It reminded me of two girls braiding each others' hair; we humans are just like them!
Further along the trail the trees started to thin out. There was an entire herd of impalas cooling off under a bush. Some of them walked away, but most of them just acknowledged our presence and went about their business as usual. This is what it was like for most of the animals we encountered.
We reached a pool of water filled with hippos. They clearly had nothing better to do but fight each other, some of them bearing serious scars. On the grassy plains were zebras and wildebeest (Dutch for 'Wild Beast' - they're not very imaginative when it comes to naming things). There were also many flamingos, birds that I grown tired of seeing.
Just when I thought the day was done, we had our most dramatic encounter. We drove right beside a family of elephants. They were eating everything in site; elephants must eat at least 20 kg of food a day! There was a mother elephant with her young baby, keeping a close eye on us the whole time; we were told to make sure our camera flashes were off.
The sun was setting was setting quickly. There isn't much twilight in the tropics as the sun heads straight down into the horizon. By the time we reached the lodge, it was dark.
By the poolside was a troupe of acrobats. I learned some new dance moves as I watched them dance with some of the guests. They then performed some amazing stunts: flipping, climbing and standing on each other, all to the sounds of a frantic, primal beat. They ended their show by limboing under a flaming stick.
After their performance, my dad tried to buy some of their music, but its jewel case was broken. As neither party could properly speak the others language, it took a while until things were finally resolved.
We left early the next morning to get another look at Manyara (after a delicious breakfast of course!). On the road out of the lodge we saw the same village kid, but now he had two chameleons. As we drove through the park, we saw many more animals walking about. Cute little monkeys would congregate on the bridges near dry river beds; our driver made sure not to run any of them over. There were giraffes and elephants around every corner. But, today we felt we could go one better; we wanted to see a lion.
We passed through the scrubby areas of the park and drove by a herd of water buffalo. Now remember how I said earlier that most animals didn't care about the presence of humans. Not water buffalo; they stared us down with menacing glares, ready to charge at the slightest sign of aggression.
Our jeep motored along to the south where we would find a hot spring. We were stopped by a stampede of wildebeest, we hoped that around the bend we would get to see what spooked them. I was hoping for a lion. We reached the bend and there was nothing; I was disappointed.
We got out at the hot spring to see if it was actually hot. It was: you could cook an egg in it easily. I took a moment to look out on the plain. This lake was a resort for animals: good grazing year round with few predators.
We had seen all there really was to see and headed back, though on the way nearly ran over a black mamba. We also passed a crew that were repairing a bridge, imagining the many hazards of their job.
We had lunch at the lodge before heading for Serengeti. We drove by the chameleon boy one last time with sticks now holding three chameleons. We gave him a pen. I wondered what opportunities this kid had in this part of the world; I wondered how he saw it. What was I going to do of my opportunities when I got back?
But now was not the time to think of anything but the country that laid before us. The great valley faded behind us; my memory of it never will.
We left the lodge early in the morning and stopped in the nicest building in Arusha for a pre-safari briefing. The guide gave us a talk, basically what we should do so we don't get eaten; I didn't really pay attention; I knew to stay in the jeep.
We drove over endless rolling scrub land, caked with dry red earth and sparse vegetation. Through the mists we traveled, seemingly lost in time and space only knowing that we were going further into the unknown. There was the occasional donkey or herder, drifters in an otherwise lonely landscape.
There's something about a dry landscape that brings thoughts of adventure in me. Maybe it reminds of me of westerns, exploring a final frontier with only the landscape and sparse vegetation to give you company. For some reason the jungle just doesn't evoke the same feelings; it makes me think of Predator and Duran Duran.
As we drove further, the landscape became more lush and there were more and more people. We soon reached a bustling town in the middle of the jungle, filled with people carry goods or trying to sell them. A sign showed we had reached Manyara.
Soon we reached a wall, the longest and greatest wall on the planet: the African Rift valley. Our jeep climbed up the ledge, riding on the back of a giant asphalt worm as it snaked up. We passed giant ancient Baobab trees up the hill, once saplings when the first stones of civilization were being laid.
Before we knew it we had reached the top. In an instant, we were 1000 m higher than we once were. I looked back at the valley, the work of great forces as old as the earth itself splitting the continent apart. In a few million years, the sea of green below would be submerged under an actual one.
We arrived at our lodge. As I walked to our cabin I saw a view that I will be ingrained in the recesses of my mind for as long as I live. Below me lay the entire valley, a land rich in life. Looking south, the jungle faded to great green grassy plains. The grassy plain surrounded a shallow, silver Lake Manyara and was peppered with black dots. These dots were Wildebeest, Zebras and Giraffes. This was God's country and I was standing on his seat where he admired his creation.
The next thing we did was head to lunch. Now the reason I bring this up is that at this point I was a wraith; I had been sick and had not eaten well. I cautiously began eating, as food was something I had come to fear in Africa. But, the food at this lodge was amazing: there were all kinds of exotic fruits with delicious sauces I had never heard of, and it was also exceptionally prepared. I could feel the life return to me with every bite. The spirit of adventure was back.
After lunch, we headed back down to get a look at the valley. We drover past a small farming village with buildings made of mud huts. This area was poorer than the area around Arusha. A boy came up to our jeep; he had caught a chameleon and showed it to us. We snapped a picture before heading down to the park.
Our trek began in the jungle; there were monkeys, bush bucks and exotic birds. I saw two baboons on a log, one grooming the other. It reminded me of two girls braiding each others' hair; we humans are just like them!
Further along the trail the trees started to thin out. There was an entire herd of impalas cooling off under a bush. Some of them walked away, but most of them just acknowledged our presence and went about their business as usual. This is what it was like for most of the animals we encountered.
We reached a pool of water filled with hippos. They clearly had nothing better to do but fight each other, some of them bearing serious scars. On the grassy plains were zebras and wildebeest (Dutch for 'Wild Beast' - they're not very imaginative when it comes to naming things). There were also many flamingos, birds that I grown tired of seeing.
Just when I thought the day was done, we had our most dramatic encounter. We drove right beside a family of elephants. They were eating everything in site; elephants must eat at least 20 kg of food a day! There was a mother elephant with her young baby, keeping a close eye on us the whole time; we were told to make sure our camera flashes were off.
The sun was setting was setting quickly. There isn't much twilight in the tropics as the sun heads straight down into the horizon. By the time we reached the lodge, it was dark.
By the poolside was a troupe of acrobats. I learned some new dance moves as I watched them dance with some of the guests. They then performed some amazing stunts: flipping, climbing and standing on each other, all to the sounds of a frantic, primal beat. They ended their show by limboing under a flaming stick.
After their performance, my dad tried to buy some of their music, but its jewel case was broken. As neither party could properly speak the others language, it took a while until things were finally resolved.
We left early the next morning to get another look at Manyara (after a delicious breakfast of course!). On the road out of the lodge we saw the same village kid, but now he had two chameleons. As we drove through the park, we saw many more animals walking about. Cute little monkeys would congregate on the bridges near dry river beds; our driver made sure not to run any of them over. There were giraffes and elephants around every corner. But, today we felt we could go one better; we wanted to see a lion.
We passed through the scrubby areas of the park and drove by a herd of water buffalo. Now remember how I said earlier that most animals didn't care about the presence of humans. Not water buffalo; they stared us down with menacing glares, ready to charge at the slightest sign of aggression.
Our jeep motored along to the south where we would find a hot spring. We were stopped by a stampede of wildebeest, we hoped that around the bend we would get to see what spooked them. I was hoping for a lion. We reached the bend and there was nothing; I was disappointed.
We got out at the hot spring to see if it was actually hot. It was: you could cook an egg in it easily. I took a moment to look out on the plain. This lake was a resort for animals: good grazing year round with few predators.
We had seen all there really was to see and headed back, though on the way nearly ran over a black mamba. We also passed a crew that were repairing a bridge, imagining the many hazards of their job.
We had lunch at the lodge before heading for Serengeti. We drove by the chameleon boy one last time with sticks now holding three chameleons. We gave him a pen. I wondered what opportunities this kid had in this part of the world; I wondered how he saw it. What was I going to do of my opportunities when I got back?
But now was not the time to think of anything but the country that laid before us. The great valley faded behind us; my memory of it never will.
Eurafrika Pt. 12 - A Grand Challenge
The last few days at the lodge were pretty quiet. I spent most of my time recovering from my sickness and reading.
But, there was a lot of science going on as well, science that could end up saving millions of lives. So I had the chance to watch some brilliant minds in medicine speak about the latest goings on.
After missing the opening remarks, I saw a panel discussion about scientists and politics. I won't bore you with the details, just that it made me realize there are so many scientists who can't communicate at all. As soon as I hear someone who can't speak the language, I zone out; it's just too much effort to concentrate and grasp what they are trying to say. I wasn't the only one, I could see scientists left and right dozing off. It's a shame, I thought: at this conference there may be two people who can each solve each others problems, but if they can't understand each other, there's no possibility of collaboration that could lead to breakthroughs.
I did learn more about how my mom's lab was developing a HIV vaccine. It's all based on the research they've done with a group of Kenyan prostitutes who are HIV immune. The key seems to be in calming down the immune system's response to the virus.
The next day we drove to Arusha where the conference would officially end. It took place in the same complex where the criminals of the Rwandan Genocide were being tried. There was a petite blonde taking pictures of the event with telephoto lens. I asked her how much it cost and where she was from. She replied $10000 and Zimbabwe, I guessed one of the whites who fled the madness of Mugabe.
We entered a large circular lecture hall; it was large, wood-paneled and seated about five hundred. As I looked to the centre of the room, I wondered what horrible revelations had echoed inside these walls.
My Pavlovian instincts developed in college took over and I dozed off. I regretted doing so upon waking, as I had missed half of a really interesting presentation given by a Nobel laureate. There was a lot of talk about innovation, and plenty of creative ideas like growing human stem cells in mice that you can do better vaccine and drug tests.
Honestly, I don't remember too much of what happened these days. I was weak from a sickness and a lack of good food. I was looking forward to a change of scenery.
But, there was a lot of science going on as well, science that could end up saving millions of lives. So I had the chance to watch some brilliant minds in medicine speak about the latest goings on.
After missing the opening remarks, I saw a panel discussion about scientists and politics. I won't bore you with the details, just that it made me realize there are so many scientists who can't communicate at all. As soon as I hear someone who can't speak the language, I zone out; it's just too much effort to concentrate and grasp what they are trying to say. I wasn't the only one, I could see scientists left and right dozing off. It's a shame, I thought: at this conference there may be two people who can each solve each others problems, but if they can't understand each other, there's no possibility of collaboration that could lead to breakthroughs.
I did learn more about how my mom's lab was developing a HIV vaccine. It's all based on the research they've done with a group of Kenyan prostitutes who are HIV immune. The key seems to be in calming down the immune system's response to the virus.
The next day we drove to Arusha where the conference would officially end. It took place in the same complex where the criminals of the Rwandan Genocide were being tried. There was a petite blonde taking pictures of the event with telephoto lens. I asked her how much it cost and where she was from. She replied $10000 and Zimbabwe, I guessed one of the whites who fled the madness of Mugabe.
We entered a large circular lecture hall; it was large, wood-paneled and seated about five hundred. As I looked to the centre of the room, I wondered what horrible revelations had echoed inside these walls.
My Pavlovian instincts developed in college took over and I dozed off. I regretted doing so upon waking, as I had missed half of a really interesting presentation given by a Nobel laureate. There was a lot of talk about innovation, and plenty of creative ideas like growing human stem cells in mice that you can do better vaccine and drug tests.
Honestly, I don't remember too much of what happened these days. I was weak from a sickness and a lack of good food. I was looking forward to a change of scenery.
Eurafrika Pt. 11 - Ugh
The next day I woke up early, earlier than usual. I was sniffling a little, but otherwise felt fine.
Then all of a sudden I started getting these painful cramps. I rushed to the toilet; we would become well acquainted for the next 24 hours.
I lied down in bed wondering where I had gone wrong. I brushed my teeth using bottled water, I was careful with which (unappetizing) food items I ate. I tried to keep things balanced eating dairy products, meat with the occasional salad...
...Salad, rinsed with their own water...
FUCK!
It turns out that diarrhea may be inevitable for any inexperienced traveler. The body is simply not used to the bacteria in foreign food and expels them the only way it knows how.
I took Pepto, Kaopectate, garlic pills, anti-diarrhea pills in addition to the anti-malaria and accutane pills I was already taking. I felt like a walking pharmacy. Fortunately, I got things under control pretty quickly. There was a bidet in the bathroom, and that helped too.
After I had recovered sufficiently, me and my dad headed of to a snake village. We had nothing better to do. It was interesting and disturbing: I saw a black mamba, the world's deadliest snake. It stared at us with its dark, sinister eyes. In other enclosures, there were cobras, rattlesnakes and pythons. In one of them, lay a sleepy serpent, perfectly camouflaged and a scared yellow chick standing beside it's dead brethren, aware of its fate. I felt for this poor bird, but the snakes like their meals warm.
Small birds aren't the only things these snakes eat. On the wall of the pythons enclosure were stories of them eating sleeping security guards. It wasn't all grim about snakes: I learned that if you encounter a cobra, you'll have better luck with a spitting one than a non-spitting one as their venom is only cytotoxic instead of neurotoxic.
Snakes weren't the only animals: there were owls (Africans kill them because for them are a symbol of death), falcons, tortoises and crocodiles. I got to hold one of the crocodiles; apparently they keep growing until they die.
After exploring the snake village, we went through a Maasai museum. It was a tourist trap: the exit led to a bunch of huts selling rings, necklaces and all kinds of colorful junk. We got out of their, but not after buying a necklace for my mom and a bracelet for myself. It helps their economy, I guess.
I immediately collapsed in bed when we got back. I rested, watching a story on Al-Jazeera about a woman who forgives the man who murdered her daughter. I thought it could be the basis of an interesting novel, where the hero is a murderer given a second chance and saves others as an act of redemption. I then passed out.
Then all of a sudden I started getting these painful cramps. I rushed to the toilet; we would become well acquainted for the next 24 hours.
I lied down in bed wondering where I had gone wrong. I brushed my teeth using bottled water, I was careful with which (unappetizing) food items I ate. I tried to keep things balanced eating dairy products, meat with the occasional salad...
...Salad, rinsed with their own water...
FUCK!
It turns out that diarrhea may be inevitable for any inexperienced traveler. The body is simply not used to the bacteria in foreign food and expels them the only way it knows how.
I took Pepto, Kaopectate, garlic pills, anti-diarrhea pills in addition to the anti-malaria and accutane pills I was already taking. I felt like a walking pharmacy. Fortunately, I got things under control pretty quickly. There was a bidet in the bathroom, and that helped too.
After I had recovered sufficiently, me and my dad headed of to a snake village. We had nothing better to do. It was interesting and disturbing: I saw a black mamba, the world's deadliest snake. It stared at us with its dark, sinister eyes. In other enclosures, there were cobras, rattlesnakes and pythons. In one of them, lay a sleepy serpent, perfectly camouflaged and a scared yellow chick standing beside it's dead brethren, aware of its fate. I felt for this poor bird, but the snakes like their meals warm.
Small birds aren't the only things these snakes eat. On the wall of the pythons enclosure were stories of them eating sleeping security guards. It wasn't all grim about snakes: I learned that if you encounter a cobra, you'll have better luck with a spitting one than a non-spitting one as their venom is only cytotoxic instead of neurotoxic.
Snakes weren't the only animals: there were owls (Africans kill them because for them are a symbol of death), falcons, tortoises and crocodiles. I got to hold one of the crocodiles; apparently they keep growing until they die.
After exploring the snake village, we went through a Maasai museum. It was a tourist trap: the exit led to a bunch of huts selling rings, necklaces and all kinds of colorful junk. We got out of their, but not after buying a necklace for my mom and a bracelet for myself. It helps their economy, I guess.
I immediately collapsed in bed when we got back. I rested, watching a story on Al-Jazeera about a woman who forgives the man who murdered her daughter. I thought it could be the basis of an interesting novel, where the hero is a murderer given a second chance and saves others as an act of redemption. I then passed out.
Eurafrika Pt. 10 - A Blue (Net) Day
We woke up early the next day - the roosters made sure we couldn't sleep in. The plan for the day was to see for ourselves the frontlines of the war against malaria: we would be visiting a nearby rice village and later the factory where they make the nets. I would get my first taste of how Africans lived.
So we got into a bus with a group of about 15 or so other scientists. I probably should have mentioned it earlier that the whole reason I was able to go to Africa was that it conveniently coincided with one of my mom's conferences. And not just any conference; this was the Gates Grand Challenge Conference. Here in Tanzania, hundreds of scientists sponsored by Bill Gates' money, were gathered to discuss their latest progress in fighting the world's worst diseases. My mom was there because she was part of a team trying to find an HIV vaccine.
Now back to where that bus was going. We drove to a nearby rice village. On the way kids were smiling and waving at us; I felt like royalty. The people were poor, but seeing them did not make me sad. They were getting on with their lives, cheerfully, unlike the helpless poverty so common back home. There were no mud huts, just simple masonry buildings with funny names like "Texas Club".
So we arrived at the rice village and went out to visit the homes. For a place with lots of standing water and a deadly mosquito-borne disease, I was surprised by how few mosquitos there were. I don't think I was bitten once that day. We visited one of the homes. There were chickens walking about and kids playing, one with a toy he had clearly made himself. I thought I'd entertain the kids and made a paper airplane from one of the sheets in my bag; it flew well and they loved it.
In the village, we went from home to home. For a farm, I was surprised by how little it smelled. The houses were simple and small, the largest with four rooms. One of them had electricity wired with a TV. What stood out was that all of them had these were these bright blue mosquito nets covering the beds. These weren't any nets either - these ones were embedded with insecticide. These nets were mean't to stop malaria in its tracks.
Malaria is a horrible disease; that much I knew. It kills millions of people every year. As I write this I am still taking anti-malarial medication, almost three weeks out of Africa. What I did not know, or rather what I had no sense for, was how it devastated peoples' lives and prevented them from lifting themselves out of poverty. It makes farmers too sick and weak to harvest crops, it forces parents to stop working to take care of their sick kids who are missing cool. It kills prosperity before it can grow.
As we left, I thought it would be nice to leave the kids a little souvenir. I grabbed my wallet for some Canadian pennies. This was a mistake; I was immediately surrounded by grabby kids. One of the organizers gave the kids some bottles of war. As our van drove off, I could see them fighting each other over them. It seemed an allegory for the continent I was now in. I guess wealth is something that must be earned and learned.
On the bus ride to the factory, I began to appreciate was how effective nets could be in eradicating malaria. None of the villagers had had malaria in over a year.
To understand how the nets could stop malaria, it's important to understand how Malaria works. Malaria is caused by the Plasmodium parasite and is carried by mosquitos. These mosquitos bite people, who are then infected with Malaria and bed-ridden. While immobilized by the symptoms of Malaria, these people are bitten by more mosquitos that then incubate the parasites and spread it to other victims.
Now here's why the nets are so effective. It should be noted that only a certain species of mosquito transmits malaria, and that these mosquitoes are most active at night when people are asleep. If the mosquitoes can't infect humans or bite infected humans because all of them sleep in insecticide-laced nets, the disease can't spread. If the disease can't spread, it quickly dies out as its host mosquitoes die out.
On our way to the net factory, we passed through Arusha town. It wasn't really a town anymore: it's population had grown to over 300,000 with the rapid urbanization that is taking place all over the continent. The town was filled with the generic masonry buildings with a few large modern buildings poking out. There were tons of these buildings that looked like they were under construction and then suddenly abandoned. There were no sidewalks, but tons of people walking along the side of the road. I saw some kids playing on a broken tree limb lying in an open storm sewer.
Arusha town was also the frontlines to another war: the Cola Wars. Every shop had either a Coke sign or a dark-blue Pepsi sign on it. It seemed at first that Pepsi was winning, but it just happened that their signs were far larger and more colorful. The coke was cheap too: only 350 Tsh (about 30 cents Canadian).
Eventually, we made our way through the busy streets of Arusha town to the outskirts where the plant lay. The Olyset Plant is a large, tightly-guarded compound; it was guarded by an armed guard and enclosed with a high brick wall. The whole place was very clean and modern, the product of a partnership between a long-established African textile compound and a Japanese chemical manufacturer.
We were given a tour of the plant and saw every step in how a net is made. Little blue insecticide-containing pellets were melted down, stretched into threads, weaved, cut and sewn into nets and then packaged. There were tons of young people around my age working; the plant employed 6400 workers. It was clockwork; the director said they expected to make 30 million nets that year.
There were questions at the end the of the tour, very good questions. The company made it clear they wanted to branch off into for-profit ventures. This sparked a flurry of ideas in my head of licensing the technology, of using the insecticide-laced material in tents for camping. Every problem is really an opportunity.
We drove back to the lodge. I saw all kinds of western icons as we went drove through town: Obama stickers, White Sox and Yankees logos, even a Colorado Avalanche Jacket. However, what people really idolized was football (soccer). The game was everywhere: fans were waving flags and chanting for the local team, all over town there were sportsbars showing La Liga and Premier League games and there were giant billboards displaying the heroes themselves. One Pepsi billboard featured some of the brightest stars: Kaka, Torres, Henry, Fabregas and Lampard with a very silly grin. Football truly is the world's game.
By the time we got back, I was exhausted by the overwhelming amount of new experience I was taking in. We ate dinner; my appetite still missing. 'At least I was still healthy' I though to myself. That was about to change in a big way.
So we got into a bus with a group of about 15 or so other scientists. I probably should have mentioned it earlier that the whole reason I was able to go to Africa was that it conveniently coincided with one of my mom's conferences. And not just any conference; this was the Gates Grand Challenge Conference. Here in Tanzania, hundreds of scientists sponsored by Bill Gates' money, were gathered to discuss their latest progress in fighting the world's worst diseases. My mom was there because she was part of a team trying to find an HIV vaccine.
Now back to where that bus was going. We drove to a nearby rice village. On the way kids were smiling and waving at us; I felt like royalty. The people were poor, but seeing them did not make me sad. They were getting on with their lives, cheerfully, unlike the helpless poverty so common back home. There were no mud huts, just simple masonry buildings with funny names like "Texas Club".
So we arrived at the rice village and went out to visit the homes. For a place with lots of standing water and a deadly mosquito-borne disease, I was surprised by how few mosquitos there were. I don't think I was bitten once that day. We visited one of the homes. There were chickens walking about and kids playing, one with a toy he had clearly made himself. I thought I'd entertain the kids and made a paper airplane from one of the sheets in my bag; it flew well and they loved it.
In the village, we went from home to home. For a farm, I was surprised by how little it smelled. The houses were simple and small, the largest with four rooms. One of them had electricity wired with a TV. What stood out was that all of them had these were these bright blue mosquito nets covering the beds. These weren't any nets either - these ones were embedded with insecticide. These nets were mean't to stop malaria in its tracks.
Malaria is a horrible disease; that much I knew. It kills millions of people every year. As I write this I am still taking anti-malarial medication, almost three weeks out of Africa. What I did not know, or rather what I had no sense for, was how it devastated peoples' lives and prevented them from lifting themselves out of poverty. It makes farmers too sick and weak to harvest crops, it forces parents to stop working to take care of their sick kids who are missing cool. It kills prosperity before it can grow.
As we left, I thought it would be nice to leave the kids a little souvenir. I grabbed my wallet for some Canadian pennies. This was a mistake; I was immediately surrounded by grabby kids. One of the organizers gave the kids some bottles of war. As our van drove off, I could see them fighting each other over them. It seemed an allegory for the continent I was now in. I guess wealth is something that must be earned and learned.
On the bus ride to the factory, I began to appreciate was how effective nets could be in eradicating malaria. None of the villagers had had malaria in over a year.
To understand how the nets could stop malaria, it's important to understand how Malaria works. Malaria is caused by the Plasmodium parasite and is carried by mosquitos. These mosquitos bite people, who are then infected with Malaria and bed-ridden. While immobilized by the symptoms of Malaria, these people are bitten by more mosquitos that then incubate the parasites and spread it to other victims.
Now here's why the nets are so effective. It should be noted that only a certain species of mosquito transmits malaria, and that these mosquitoes are most active at night when people are asleep. If the mosquitoes can't infect humans or bite infected humans because all of them sleep in insecticide-laced nets, the disease can't spread. If the disease can't spread, it quickly dies out as its host mosquitoes die out.
On our way to the net factory, we passed through Arusha town. It wasn't really a town anymore: it's population had grown to over 300,000 with the rapid urbanization that is taking place all over the continent. The town was filled with the generic masonry buildings with a few large modern buildings poking out. There were tons of these buildings that looked like they were under construction and then suddenly abandoned. There were no sidewalks, but tons of people walking along the side of the road. I saw some kids playing on a broken tree limb lying in an open storm sewer.
Arusha town was also the frontlines to another war: the Cola Wars. Every shop had either a Coke sign or a dark-blue Pepsi sign on it. It seemed at first that Pepsi was winning, but it just happened that their signs were far larger and more colorful. The coke was cheap too: only 350 Tsh (about 30 cents Canadian).
Eventually, we made our way through the busy streets of Arusha town to the outskirts where the plant lay. The Olyset Plant is a large, tightly-guarded compound; it was guarded by an armed guard and enclosed with a high brick wall. The whole place was very clean and modern, the product of a partnership between a long-established African textile compound and a Japanese chemical manufacturer.
We were given a tour of the plant and saw every step in how a net is made. Little blue insecticide-containing pellets were melted down, stretched into threads, weaved, cut and sewn into nets and then packaged. There were tons of young people around my age working; the plant employed 6400 workers. It was clockwork; the director said they expected to make 30 million nets that year.
There were questions at the end the of the tour, very good questions. The company made it clear they wanted to branch off into for-profit ventures. This sparked a flurry of ideas in my head of licensing the technology, of using the insecticide-laced material in tents for camping. Every problem is really an opportunity.
We drove back to the lodge. I saw all kinds of western icons as we went drove through town: Obama stickers, White Sox and Yankees logos, even a Colorado Avalanche Jacket. However, what people really idolized was football (soccer). The game was everywhere: fans were waving flags and chanting for the local team, all over town there were sportsbars showing La Liga and Premier League games and there were giant billboards displaying the heroes themselves. One Pepsi billboard featured some of the brightest stars: Kaka, Torres, Henry, Fabregas and Lampard with a very silly grin. Football truly is the world's game.
By the time we got back, I was exhausted by the overwhelming amount of new experience I was taking in. We ate dinner; my appetite still missing. 'At least I was still healthy' I though to myself. That was about to change in a big way.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Eurafrika Pt. 9 - A Thoughtful Evening
So we got back to the lodge, ate dinner and went to bed. I spent the evening reading both Malcolm Gladwell's the Tipping Point and Sailing Alone Around the World by Joshua Slocum. I felt it was good to mix up my reading between storytelling and educating.
The Tipping Point is all about what makes certain ideas spread like wildfire. I was reading about the key players that spread ideas: Connectors, Mavens and Salesman. A Connector is the person you know who just know everyone. I thought of a girl I knew who had over 1000 friends on Facebook. A Maven is someone who spends their own time becoming expert on a topic, especially one about products or services. I thought of my dad: if I want to ask him about anything political going on in the world, I just ask him. And a salesman, well you can figure that one out.
Sailing Alone Around the World is as the title suggests, but reading it was more interesting than I'd imagine it to be. It's the true story of a skilled sailor who sails sometimes for months without seeing land, narrowly escapes pirates, is accompanied by dolphins, faces off with an infamous murderer and has his boat blown miles of course by a fierce gale at the southern edge of the earth.
I've always dreamed of sailing around the world, however, even if I did, part of me felt the magic of this adventure would be impossible to recapture. As technology advances, I feel a little magic and disappears in the world. I just have to search 'Antarctica' to see its glaciers. But, maybe I'm wrong. Perhaps, the magic is still there - that you just have to dig deeper and experience it.
With these thoughts I went to sleep. I had no idea what was happening tomorrow, nor did I want to know. I let tomorrow preserve its magic. I let it be a mystery.
The Tipping Point is all about what makes certain ideas spread like wildfire. I was reading about the key players that spread ideas: Connectors, Mavens and Salesman. A Connector is the person you know who just know everyone. I thought of a girl I knew who had over 1000 friends on Facebook. A Maven is someone who spends their own time becoming expert on a topic, especially one about products or services. I thought of my dad: if I want to ask him about anything political going on in the world, I just ask him. And a salesman, well you can figure that one out.
Sailing Alone Around the World is as the title suggests, but reading it was more interesting than I'd imagine it to be. It's the true story of a skilled sailor who sails sometimes for months without seeing land, narrowly escapes pirates, is accompanied by dolphins, faces off with an infamous murderer and has his boat blown miles of course by a fierce gale at the southern edge of the earth.
I've always dreamed of sailing around the world, however, even if I did, part of me felt the magic of this adventure would be impossible to recapture. As technology advances, I feel a little magic and disappears in the world. I just have to search 'Antarctica' to see its glaciers. But, maybe I'm wrong. Perhaps, the magic is still there - that you just have to dig deeper and experience it.
With these thoughts I went to sleep. I had no idea what was happening tomorrow, nor did I want to know. I let tomorrow preserve its magic. I let it be a mystery.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Eurafrika Pt 8 - Arusha National Park
After lunch, we headed for Arusha National Park. I did not each much lunch as my appetite was still missing (I would only rediscover it on safari). I was, however, soothed by a local ginger beverage called 'Stoney' - sweeter than ginger ale.
My family hopped in the Leopard Tours jeep and we were off. I mention the name of the company as is I have heard from friends nightmares of crooked tour companies: stories of jeeps running out of gas, stranding its scared occupants in the middle of the ever-hungry Serengeti. Leopard Tours is a very professional operation; in the lobby of the lodge, I had seen a video of their operations, how they maintain the jeeps and so on. If you ever plan on touring Tanzania, I recommend using them.
Riding to Arusha was an adventure in its own right. Abruptly, the road changed from a two-lane paved ribbon, to a dirty, bumpy, roller coaster of a road. And a roller coaster of a ride it was! - A ride that took us past coffee plantations, banana trees with midget sized bananas growing underneath their canopies and simple masonry buildings that were ubiquitous over the Northern Tanzanian landscape. This was a rural landscape, but different from the rural I was used to back home. The earth near was different from the dark, black loam of the prairies I was used to: this earth was a rich reddish brown, as if stained with the blood of a violent volcanic past. And there were people; people everywhere! There were woman carry huge items on their heads, children riding tired bikes and men riding into town on simple motorcycles. And instead of an endless flat horizon, we lied in the shadows of the towering Mt. Meru.
And so we arrived at Arusha National Park. Armed rangers welcomed us in. The trees of the plantations had disappeared making way for grassy plains with Mt. Meru hovering over everything; its peak was hidden in the clouds. We stopped briefly at the entrance; there was all kinds of information about the wildlife in the park. A lot of the information was put together by donors, mainly coming from Italy. I looked at the map and saw that great Kilimanjaro lay not too far in the distance. I thought back to my buddy Hunter who had climbed this majestic mountain not too long ago. I told myself that someday I would conquer this mountain - with friends. But not this time; this time I could only hope to get a look of it.
So, my happily hopped back into the Jeep and we drove into the park. The first thing we saw was a group of lazy buffalo lying underneath a withering acacia. We excitedly got out of our seats to get our first glimpse of African wildlife. With the hunter binoculars the picture became a rich tapestry filled with zebras, warthogs, gazelles and giraffes, yes, big tall giraffes in the background. This would prove to be one the least memorable sights of the trip, as we soon be spoiled with wildlife. But, it was our first look, and we excitedly clicked our cameras.
Our guide drove us further into the forest. We stopped so see a group of Colobus Monkeys. They were calmly perched on branches high in the tree canopy. An then all of a sudden, one of them dart off the end a bunch, leap like an acrobat and latch on to the nearest branch for the neighbouring tree. It was quite the dramatic act - and the monkeys performed it so nonchalantly.
We moved out of the forest into a desolate plain. Warthogs, Zebra and a large deer-like species were foraging on what was left. What caught the eye was a parade of mongoose, zooming across the plain kicking up dust. Who knew what their hurry was about, perhaps the prospect of a delicious serpentine meal. And there are plenty of snakes around in Africa, deadly ones too! (W didn't see any that day) In fact, our driver told of us a story where he narrowly avoided the death bite of a Black Mamba, a bite that can kill a man in 7 minutes. Apparently, the snake had slithered through a jeep, and then just slithered on to a herd of wildebeest. He came back a half later and they were all dead.
So our Jeep drove on, through forest, plain and scrub land; it was like a miniature version of East Africa itself. We briefly paused to photograph a cuckoo stately perched on an acacia before heading to the small lakes in this park where we would see the most interesting sight of the day.
Part of me moans the fact that the most interesting thing we saw on our short trip were living garden ornaments. But there were so many of them that I wouldn't do this story justice if they weren't included. The lake we found was coated swamped with flamingos, thousands upon thousands of flamingos that created a pink ring as if the lake were a giant bathtub. The flamingos were feasting of algae that grows off underground streams that feed into the lake. Never have I seen so much pink.
We stopped by the lake to take some pictures of the silly pink birds. In the distance I could see Mt. Kilimanjaro, the roof of Africa, shyly poking its head above the clouds. It towered above like nothing else I have seen before. To think one of my friends and stepped on that peak was an astounding thought, one that made me want to climb the mountain itself.
The trip ended with a visit to one of the park's volcanic craters. We rode up increasingly steep dirt roads. I asked the driver if elephants used the roads we were driving on. It turns out I had it all backwards: we were driving on roads that used to be elephant paths through the woods. Our jeep crossed paths with baboons, bushbucks (like deer) and blue monkeys. We got to the crater rim and were treated to a spectacular view, though one in retrospect that would be dwarfed by the crater at Ngorongoro.
And so we returned back to our lodge with the first taste of wildlife fresh in our months. I looked out the window and so locals smiling as we went by. We passed a game of soccer, one that I wanted to join in on, but we had to go back to the lodge. There were far more adventures to come.
My family hopped in the Leopard Tours jeep and we were off. I mention the name of the company as is I have heard from friends nightmares of crooked tour companies: stories of jeeps running out of gas, stranding its scared occupants in the middle of the ever-hungry Serengeti. Leopard Tours is a very professional operation; in the lobby of the lodge, I had seen a video of their operations, how they maintain the jeeps and so on. If you ever plan on touring Tanzania, I recommend using them.
Riding to Arusha was an adventure in its own right. Abruptly, the road changed from a two-lane paved ribbon, to a dirty, bumpy, roller coaster of a road. And a roller coaster of a ride it was! - A ride that took us past coffee plantations, banana trees with midget sized bananas growing underneath their canopies and simple masonry buildings that were ubiquitous over the Northern Tanzanian landscape. This was a rural landscape, but different from the rural I was used to back home. The earth near was different from the dark, black loam of the prairies I was used to: this earth was a rich reddish brown, as if stained with the blood of a violent volcanic past. And there were people; people everywhere! There were woman carry huge items on their heads, children riding tired bikes and men riding into town on simple motorcycles. And instead of an endless flat horizon, we lied in the shadows of the towering Mt. Meru.
And so we arrived at Arusha National Park. Armed rangers welcomed us in. The trees of the plantations had disappeared making way for grassy plains with Mt. Meru hovering over everything; its peak was hidden in the clouds. We stopped briefly at the entrance; there was all kinds of information about the wildlife in the park. A lot of the information was put together by donors, mainly coming from Italy. I looked at the map and saw that great Kilimanjaro lay not too far in the distance. I thought back to my buddy Hunter who had climbed this majestic mountain not too long ago. I told myself that someday I would conquer this mountain - with friends. But not this time; this time I could only hope to get a look of it.
So, my happily hopped back into the Jeep and we drove into the park. The first thing we saw was a group of lazy buffalo lying underneath a withering acacia. We excitedly got out of our seats to get our first glimpse of African wildlife. With the hunter binoculars the picture became a rich tapestry filled with zebras, warthogs, gazelles and giraffes, yes, big tall giraffes in the background. This would prove to be one the least memorable sights of the trip, as we soon be spoiled with wildlife. But, it was our first look, and we excitedly clicked our cameras.
Our guide drove us further into the forest. We stopped so see a group of Colobus Monkeys. They were calmly perched on branches high in the tree canopy. An then all of a sudden, one of them dart off the end a bunch, leap like an acrobat and latch on to the nearest branch for the neighbouring tree. It was quite the dramatic act - and the monkeys performed it so nonchalantly.
We moved out of the forest into a desolate plain. Warthogs, Zebra and a large deer-like species were foraging on what was left. What caught the eye was a parade of mongoose, zooming across the plain kicking up dust. Who knew what their hurry was about, perhaps the prospect of a delicious serpentine meal. And there are plenty of snakes around in Africa, deadly ones too! (W didn't see any that day) In fact, our driver told of us a story where he narrowly avoided the death bite of a Black Mamba, a bite that can kill a man in 7 minutes. Apparently, the snake had slithered through a jeep, and then just slithered on to a herd of wildebeest. He came back a half later and they were all dead.
So our Jeep drove on, through forest, plain and scrub land; it was like a miniature version of East Africa itself. We briefly paused to photograph a cuckoo stately perched on an acacia before heading to the small lakes in this park where we would see the most interesting sight of the day.
Part of me moans the fact that the most interesting thing we saw on our short trip were living garden ornaments. But there were so many of them that I wouldn't do this story justice if they weren't included. The lake we found was coated swamped with flamingos, thousands upon thousands of flamingos that created a pink ring as if the lake were a giant bathtub. The flamingos were feasting of algae that grows off underground streams that feed into the lake. Never have I seen so much pink.
We stopped by the lake to take some pictures of the silly pink birds. In the distance I could see Mt. Kilimanjaro, the roof of Africa, shyly poking its head above the clouds. It towered above like nothing else I have seen before. To think one of my friends and stepped on that peak was an astounding thought, one that made me want to climb the mountain itself.
The trip ended with a visit to one of the park's volcanic craters. We rode up increasingly steep dirt roads. I asked the driver if elephants used the roads we were driving on. It turns out I had it all backwards: we were driving on roads that used to be elephant paths through the woods. Our jeep crossed paths with baboons, bushbucks (like deer) and blue monkeys. We got to the crater rim and were treated to a spectacular view, though one in retrospect that would be dwarfed by the crater at Ngorongoro.
And so we returned back to our lodge with the first taste of wildlife fresh in our months. I looked out the window and so locals smiling as we went by. We passed a game of soccer, one that I wanted to join in on, but we had to go back to the lodge. There were far more adventures to come.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Eurafrika Pt 7 - Around the Lodge
I was awoken early in the morning by the crow of a rooster. Outside, I heard all kinds of bird cries and cricket chirps. Before going to breakfast, I turn on the TV and flip through a few channels. There's a soccer reality show about 8 African players trying to make it big; a reality show where there's something actually life-changing at stake.
I leave our room for the main lodge for breakfast with my dad. We walk by a tree with woven birds nests hanging from it like lanterns. My dad remarks that the main lodge looks a lot something our of Jurassic Park and I concur.
We get to the breakfast buffet. There's plenty of food variety: salad, tropical fruits, cereals and breads. The hot breakfast is English breakfast fare and doesn't look too appetizing. It tastes even less so. I eat little as my stomach struggles to adjust to the foreign food. This would, unfortunately, be just the beginning.
With nothing left to do in the morning, I decide to wander and explore the lodge's environs. The lodge is surrounding by a coffee plantation and I hear some kid's voices coming from the other side of a hedge wall. I climb up a nearby hill to see what's going on. The kids see me and I give them a friendly 'Hujambo' ('Hi' in Swahili). Some of the kids smile back at me, some of the run away.
I have an idea to entertain the kids. I go back into my room and try to find things I can juggle. I end up using a little water container and two folded socks. I go back to the kids and start juggling; they're amused. They leave to continue picking berries; I leave to explore the grounds some more.
I walk through some of the coffee plantation. I had never seen a coffee plant before - essentially, they're bushes. I then walk back to the main lodge, testing the little Swahili I know on the locals I walk by. I meet up with my dad and he's talking with one of the workers there. His name is Benson.
There are a bunch of Marabou Storks lurking around the lodge, completely unafraid of the humans that live there. I walk right up to one and it doesn't respond at all. They look like flying death Benson tells us that the storks feed on bones and have special stomach juices to digest them. I'm not surprised: things that eat death tend to look like death. He then grabs some scraps from the kitchen and throws them at the storks; they go crazy.
After feeding the storks, the conversation then switches to football (soccer). Benson says that Tanzania is the strongest team in East Africa (I find out later that East Africa is the weakest region in all of Africa). I find out that be both have quite a bit in common in that we both like Chelsea and that our favorite player is Frank Lampard. I mention a Tanzanian player, Nizar Khalfan, who plays for my cousin's team and he recognizes the name. Football truly is the world's language!
After a quiet morning, we headed to lunch. In the afternoon, we would be getting our first taste of wildlife: Arusha National Park.
I leave our room for the main lodge for breakfast with my dad. We walk by a tree with woven birds nests hanging from it like lanterns. My dad remarks that the main lodge looks a lot something our of Jurassic Park and I concur.
We get to the breakfast buffet. There's plenty of food variety: salad, tropical fruits, cereals and breads. The hot breakfast is English breakfast fare and doesn't look too appetizing. It tastes even less so. I eat little as my stomach struggles to adjust to the foreign food. This would, unfortunately, be just the beginning.
With nothing left to do in the morning, I decide to wander and explore the lodge's environs. The lodge is surrounding by a coffee plantation and I hear some kid's voices coming from the other side of a hedge wall. I climb up a nearby hill to see what's going on. The kids see me and I give them a friendly 'Hujambo' ('Hi' in Swahili). Some of the kids smile back at me, some of the run away.
I have an idea to entertain the kids. I go back into my room and try to find things I can juggle. I end up using a little water container and two folded socks. I go back to the kids and start juggling; they're amused. They leave to continue picking berries; I leave to explore the grounds some more.
I walk through some of the coffee plantation. I had never seen a coffee plant before - essentially, they're bushes. I then walk back to the main lodge, testing the little Swahili I know on the locals I walk by. I meet up with my dad and he's talking with one of the workers there. His name is Benson.
There are a bunch of Marabou Storks lurking around the lodge, completely unafraid of the humans that live there. I walk right up to one and it doesn't respond at all. They look like flying death Benson tells us that the storks feed on bones and have special stomach juices to digest them. I'm not surprised: things that eat death tend to look like death. He then grabs some scraps from the kitchen and throws them at the storks; they go crazy.
After feeding the storks, the conversation then switches to football (soccer). Benson says that Tanzania is the strongest team in East Africa (I find out later that East Africa is the weakest region in all of Africa). I find out that be both have quite a bit in common in that we both like Chelsea and that our favorite player is Frank Lampard. I mention a Tanzanian player, Nizar Khalfan, who plays for my cousin's team and he recognizes the name. Football truly is the world's language!
After a quiet morning, we headed to lunch. In the afternoon, we would be getting our first taste of wildlife: Arusha National Park.
Eurafrika Pt 6 - Tanzanian TV
I have just arrived for the first time on a new country, in a new continent, in the developing world.
Naturally, the first thing I do is lie down and watch TV.
Maybe it's old habits die hard, but one of the things I love to do when I travel is to see what's on. There are a dozen channels: half of them are in English, half of them are in Swahili. I like the rhythm of the language; it's very pleasant sounding.
The English-language channels are news and sports channels. I see BBC and Al Jazeera, but no CNN. I watch news on Al Jazeera for a while; they've really used terrorism to emerge as a global news brand. They've hired British and American anchors; it's all very professional.
I then turn to the sports channels. Most of the sports feeds come from a South African based sports network called Super Sports. They're covering the U 20 World Cup (soccer) final between Ghana and Brazil. I'm rooting for the Africans. I notice one of the TV personalities is wearing a Yankees baseball cap. I wonder if he follows baseball or just likes American iconography.
The game is tied 0-0. Ghana is down a man, yet they are still getting their chances. It is deep into extra time. Brazil gets some great chances to end it, but the Ghanaian goalkeeper brilliantly denies them. Extra time ends 0-0. We're going to a shootout. Both teams are exhausted.
Brazil shoots first; they make their first three shots. Ghana misses their third. After both teams exchange misses, Brazil's Maicon steps up for the win...
BUT he skies it! Well over the crossbar!
Ghana's going to win it now, and sure enough the next shooter makes his easily. I love how the Ghanaian keeper anticipates where the shot is going and moves there instead of just diving. He guesses right again meaning Ghana can win it with the next shot. And they do as the young Ghanaian coolly slides it past the keeper going the wrong way. It's the first time that an African country has won such a major international trophy.
I headed to bed, basking in African triumph. The next day, I would be basking in the African sun.
Naturally, the first thing I do is lie down and watch TV.
Maybe it's old habits die hard, but one of the things I love to do when I travel is to see what's on. There are a dozen channels: half of them are in English, half of them are in Swahili. I like the rhythm of the language; it's very pleasant sounding.
The English-language channels are news and sports channels. I see BBC and Al Jazeera, but no CNN. I watch news on Al Jazeera for a while; they've really used terrorism to emerge as a global news brand. They've hired British and American anchors; it's all very professional.
I then turn to the sports channels. Most of the sports feeds come from a South African based sports network called Super Sports. They're covering the U 20 World Cup (soccer) final between Ghana and Brazil. I'm rooting for the Africans. I notice one of the TV personalities is wearing a Yankees baseball cap. I wonder if he follows baseball or just likes American iconography.
The game is tied 0-0. Ghana is down a man, yet they are still getting their chances. It is deep into extra time. Brazil gets some great chances to end it, but the Ghanaian goalkeeper brilliantly denies them. Extra time ends 0-0. We're going to a shootout. Both teams are exhausted.
Brazil shoots first; they make their first three shots. Ghana misses their third. After both teams exchange misses, Brazil's Maicon steps up for the win...
BUT he skies it! Well over the crossbar!
Ghana's going to win it now, and sure enough the next shooter makes his easily. I love how the Ghanaian keeper anticipates where the shot is going and moves there instead of just diving. He guesses right again meaning Ghana can win it with the next shot. And they do as the young Ghanaian coolly slides it past the keeper going the wrong way. It's the first time that an African country has won such a major international trophy.
I headed to bed, basking in African triumph. The next day, I would be basking in the African sun.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Eurafrika Pt 5 - Touchdown in Tanzania
As we got off the plane, I felt like for an instant like Jack Bauer in 24, walking on the lit tarmac in the darkness of a foreign land. The air was warm and still, not too humid and not too dry. It then dawned on me that in less than 24 hours I had tripled the number of continents I had set foot in.
Entering the terminal was like going back in time. Everything basic, plain, but functional; it was like visiting a Canadian airport back in the 1950s. The terminal was crowded with other researchers and tourists filling out visa applications and H1N1 forms. After getting our visas, we collected our luggage (fortunately nothing lost) and made our way to our shuttles.
Stepping out of the terminal I was struck by how different the vegetation was. The stars were different too; I realized this was my first time in the Southern Hemisphere as well. The first animal I saw was a dog with swollen nipples trotting across the parking lot, probably to go and feed its pups.
Our family hopped into the shuttle van and we drove away - on the left side. The road out of the airport was lit and lined with telecom billboards. It reminded me of long trips across the prairies our family went on when I was a little kid, seeing the dark, lonely prairie landscape go by. The difference here was the occasional person or donkey walking along the side of the road.
As we got closer to our lodge, paved, lit roads made way for un-paved, bumpy, dark roads. There were always people around at the side of the road. After traveling through an unlit cathedral of trees, we had finally arrived at the lodge.
The Lodge was a spectacular sight. We were staying at accomodations that were about as luxurious as it gets: the lodge had internet and a pool and our room had a TV and a jacuzzi-tub. This would not be an authentic African experience, and to be honest, I wasn't really prepared for one either. Nonetheless, the next few days would be the most stimulating of my life.
Entering the terminal was like going back in time. Everything basic, plain, but functional; it was like visiting a Canadian airport back in the 1950s. The terminal was crowded with other researchers and tourists filling out visa applications and H1N1 forms. After getting our visas, we collected our luggage (fortunately nothing lost) and made our way to our shuttles.
Stepping out of the terminal I was struck by how different the vegetation was. The stars were different too; I realized this was my first time in the Southern Hemisphere as well. The first animal I saw was a dog with swollen nipples trotting across the parking lot, probably to go and feed its pups.
Our family hopped into the shuttle van and we drove away - on the left side. The road out of the airport was lit and lined with telecom billboards. It reminded me of long trips across the prairies our family went on when I was a little kid, seeing the dark, lonely prairie landscape go by. The difference here was the occasional person or donkey walking along the side of the road.
As we got closer to our lodge, paved, lit roads made way for un-paved, bumpy, dark roads. There were always people around at the side of the road. After traveling through an unlit cathedral of trees, we had finally arrived at the lodge.
The Lodge was a spectacular sight. We were staying at accomodations that were about as luxurious as it gets: the lodge had internet and a pool and our room had a TV and a jacuzzi-tub. This would not be an authentic African experience, and to be honest, I wasn't really prepared for one either. Nonetheless, the next few days would be the most stimulating of my life.
Eurafrika Pt 4 - Down to Africa
Our family boarded the plane. It was a 777, a real beauty of plane with engines the size of garages. Dutch people have a way of speaking English that I find hilarious: our pilot spoke with a rhythm like that of Captain Kirk. I was tired, but filled with the energy that comes with seeing new things and visiting strange lands.
I looked out the window and all I saw was giant cotton swab-like clouds covering the face of the Earth. I'm reminded of a climate science article I read that talked about how cosmic rays increased cloud cover and how this had a big effect on the Earth's climate. Looking out the window I could see why: the clouds reflected most of the sun's bright rays.
As our plane ventured south there was a clearing of a clouds and I was able to see the European landscape for the first time. I saw the Alps. I saw Venice lying in the middle of its azure lagoon. I saw the length of the Italian boot until our plane ventured over the candy-blue waters of the Mediterranean. You could see boats and white trails seemingly standing still, seemingly stuck in time.
Eventually the blue Mediterranean abruptly ended with the light brown sands of North Africa. I was over Africa for the first time, looking down below at white roads radiating and occasional green central-pivot irrigation farms that interrupted the monotony of an endless desert.
I dozed off. When I woke up, all I could see was clouds and the dark African jungles below. Not a single light or sign of civilization. This was new territory.
I looked out the window and all I saw was giant cotton swab-like clouds covering the face of the Earth. I'm reminded of a climate science article I read that talked about how cosmic rays increased cloud cover and how this had a big effect on the Earth's climate. Looking out the window I could see why: the clouds reflected most of the sun's bright rays.
As our plane ventured south there was a clearing of a clouds and I was able to see the European landscape for the first time. I saw the Alps. I saw Venice lying in the middle of its azure lagoon. I saw the length of the Italian boot until our plane ventured over the candy-blue waters of the Mediterranean. You could see boats and white trails seemingly standing still, seemingly stuck in time.
Eventually the blue Mediterranean abruptly ended with the light brown sands of North Africa. I was over Africa for the first time, looking down below at white roads radiating and occasional green central-pivot irrigation farms that interrupted the monotony of an endless desert.
I dozed off. When I woke up, all I could see was clouds and the dark African jungles below. Not a single light or sign of civilization. This was new territory.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Eurafrika Pt. 3 - Schiphol - The Airport that Never Ends
Me, my mom and my dad exit the plane after our trans-Atlantic flight. It's around 4 AM and we have just touched down in Amsterdam. We make our way over to the main concourse area to get some breakfast. It takes a while to get there; Schiphol is a gigantic airport: it takes 38 min to walk from one end of the terminal to the other. My dad explains how it was a smart move by the Netherlands to build such a big airport and be a global aviation hub. I yawn; I've crossed seven time zones, and even though I don't feel jet-lagged I am tired. I have lost all sense of time.
My ear starts to pick up languages other than English. I'm in line at a coffee shop behind a group of cute Dutch girls. I try striking up a conversation first in English than in German. I fail. I should've known that while German and Dutch are similar languages, the Dutch are not too fond of Germans or their language (for obvious historical reasons). Perhaps, I could've played up the fact I was from Canada (where the liberators came from). I'll leave that for a next time.
Me and my family eat up and make our way to our second 7+ hour flight. For the first time I feel international. I begin to sense how small the world is, that at any given moment I live on the same sphere as the one that my friends are sleeping on back home, that Barack Obama is winning a Nobel Prize somewhere on, that people in Angola are struggling to feed their families on. It is a humbling feeling.
What will I feel once I'm in Africa?
My ear starts to pick up languages other than English. I'm in line at a coffee shop behind a group of cute Dutch girls. I try striking up a conversation first in English than in German. I fail. I should've known that while German and Dutch are similar languages, the Dutch are not too fond of Germans or their language (for obvious historical reasons). Perhaps, I could've played up the fact I was from Canada (where the liberators came from). I'll leave that for a next time.
Me and my family eat up and make our way to our second 7+ hour flight. For the first time I feel international. I begin to sense how small the world is, that at any given moment I live on the same sphere as the one that my friends are sleeping on back home, that Barack Obama is winning a Nobel Prize somewhere on, that people in Angola are struggling to feed their families on. It is a humbling feeling.
What will I feel once I'm in Africa?
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Eurafrika Pt 2 - Across the Atlantic
So I get back to the airport and we take off across the Atlantic. It's my first time flying on a two-aisled plane. I'm sitting in a window seat beside Bruce (or was it Bill - I'm terrible with names...), a middle-aged guy from Albuquerque heading to Bonn, Germany for a electric-tools conference. I share with him the little that I know about Alburquerque, namely that the Isotopes are from there and that they recently set up a commuter train line called the RailRunner. He is astounded that I know this obscure fact. I tell him I'm a transport geek; he laughs.
For my first flight over the Atlantic, I was really hoping to actually get to see the big blue ocean, to only see the sea in all directions. I imagined being Joshua Slocum sailing around the world in search of adventure.
I didn't get to; it was dark and cloudy. My buddy Julian told me that they have plenty of in-flight movies on long flights like this one and fortunately he was not wrong. I watched three movies: Transformers 2, The Hangover and an episode of The Office. The plot for Transformers 2 was surprisingly not bad (though unsurprisingly had many holes in it); The Hangover, though ridiculous, had an interesting way of presenting a narrative; and The Office was just plain hilarious. I slept the rest of the flight.
For my first flight over the Atlantic, I was really hoping to actually get to see the big blue ocean, to only see the sea in all directions. I imagined being Joshua Slocum sailing around the world in search of adventure.
I didn't get to; it was dark and cloudy. My buddy Julian told me that they have plenty of in-flight movies on long flights like this one and fortunately he was not wrong. I watched three movies: Transformers 2, The Hangover and an episode of The Office. The plot for Transformers 2 was surprisingly not bad (though unsurprisingly had many holes in it); The Hangover, though ridiculous, had an interesting way of presenting a narrative; and The Office was just plain hilarious. I slept the rest of the flight.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Posts Coming Soon
Ok, so I've finally got some time to get something up on the web. Right now I am blogging from Schiphol airport in Amsterdam and will soon have posts about my twelve incredible and exhausting days in Africa.
Stay Tuned!
Stay Tuned!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
First Stop: Minneapolis
Context is important in life. The context we create for ourselves in any given moment determines how we live that moment. For example, most people wouldn't be too thrilled with waking up at 4:00 A.M.
Unless they were going overseas for the first time.
And that's how this adventure began: first a 5:30 A.M. 'quick-hop' from Winnipeg to Minneapolis, then a 7-hr flight across the Atlantic to Amsterdam, and then finally another 7-hr flight from Amsterdam to Kilimanjaro.
After landing in Minneapolis, I had seven hours to burn until my next flight, a perfect opportunity for a little adventure. However, my body was already weary from a lack of sleep, so I went and dozed off in the Delta lounge, being careful to wake up anytime someone walked by.
After having recovered, I decided to check out the city. Despite having been within the city's limits several times, I had never actually had anytime to check out the city. Fortunately, leaving the airport is easy: is directly connected to the city's light-rail system. So I left the airport and boarded the next train heading for downtown.
As a transport nerd, I found riding the Hiawatha Line interesting in its own right. It runs from Mall of America in Bloomington, through the airport to Downtown Minneapolis. Despite running through large industrial stretches, the line was fairly well used.
The best way to describe Downtown Minneapolis is a bigger, cleaner, Disney-fied Downtown Winnipeg. By far the most noticeable feature of Minneapolis' downtown is the ridiculous number of skywalks. Virtually every block is connected with them, some blocks are even connected with two. Several of them had a fair amount architectural effort put into them, mimicking the local bridges in their steel trusses. (I heard later that the city has a marathon on the skywalks!)
The skywalks clearly had an affect on the city's streetlife. I only saw a handful of pedestrians, even though I was there during the middle of a business day. As soon as I stepped inside I discovered where all the people had gone; I don't want to go into a big urban planning discussion about this, but for me moving all traffic indoors for climactic reasons doesn't work. The mall-feel of waxed tiled floors just seems sterile and fake; nothing can duplicate the feel and atmosphere of a lively outdoor street.
Through sidewalks and skywalks, I made my way to Target Field, the Minnesota Twins baseball park. It's amazing what you can do with enormous taxpayer subsidies. On the way back I saw an HB9, texting like crazy on her phone. I thought about about approaching, but I needed to get back to the airport.
Amsterdam was calling.
Unless they were going overseas for the first time.
And that's how this adventure began: first a 5:30 A.M. 'quick-hop' from Winnipeg to Minneapolis, then a 7-hr flight across the Atlantic to Amsterdam, and then finally another 7-hr flight from Amsterdam to Kilimanjaro.
After landing in Minneapolis, I had seven hours to burn until my next flight, a perfect opportunity for a little adventure. However, my body was already weary from a lack of sleep, so I went and dozed off in the Delta lounge, being careful to wake up anytime someone walked by.
After having recovered, I decided to check out the city. Despite having been within the city's limits several times, I had never actually had anytime to check out the city. Fortunately, leaving the airport is easy: is directly connected to the city's light-rail system. So I left the airport and boarded the next train heading for downtown.
As a transport nerd, I found riding the Hiawatha Line interesting in its own right. It runs from Mall of America in Bloomington, through the airport to Downtown Minneapolis. Despite running through large industrial stretches, the line was fairly well used.
The best way to describe Downtown Minneapolis is a bigger, cleaner, Disney-fied Downtown Winnipeg. By far the most noticeable feature of Minneapolis' downtown is the ridiculous number of skywalks. Virtually every block is connected with them, some blocks are even connected with two. Several of them had a fair amount architectural effort put into them, mimicking the local bridges in their steel trusses. (I heard later that the city has a marathon on the skywalks!)
The skywalks clearly had an affect on the city's streetlife. I only saw a handful of pedestrians, even though I was there during the middle of a business day. As soon as I stepped inside I discovered where all the people had gone; I don't want to go into a big urban planning discussion about this, but for me moving all traffic indoors for climactic reasons doesn't work. The mall-feel of waxed tiled floors just seems sterile and fake; nothing can duplicate the feel and atmosphere of a lively outdoor street.
Through sidewalks and skywalks, I made my way to Target Field, the Minnesota Twins baseball park. It's amazing what you can do with enormous taxpayer subsidies. On the way back I saw an HB9, texting like crazy on her phone. I thought about about approaching, but I needed to get back to the airport.
Amsterdam was calling.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Onwards to Africa!
In a few hours, I will be making my first foray off the continent. My first stop is Kenya and Tanzania. After two weeks there, I will be heading over to Vienna. Not much is planned and I'm not really sure what to expect.
But at least I'll have some amazing pictures to post here in a month's time. My grandfather got me an Nikon D90 DSLR camera; it's pretty fantastic.
While the DSLR is a fine piece of technology, it will be the only I will be bringing with me. I won't have any phone, or laptop or internet for an entire month. I see this as an opportunity to divorce myself from the many distractions that come with these things and focus on the things that add value to life, like adventure. I have brought with me several books to read: Sailing Alone Around the World by Joshua Slocum (self-explanatory); and The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell which is about how ideas spread.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
What is this?
If you've stumbled upon this blog, you may be asking yourself, "What's this all about?"
Why start a new bl0g, especially one that doesn't seem to be about anything?
I've been meaning to start a blog like this for some time. I already write a blog about a soccer team (Go Whitecaps), but I've always felt I needed a place that was more of an open canvas where I could chronicle the little fascinating things in life. A place where I can write down, share and discuss the little bits of wisdom that I stumble upon.
I've chosen the name Turn A New Leef because this blog is all about making every day interesting, either by learning something new or doing something differently. Every day is new and fascinating, with its own set of lessons and adventures.
And since I'm leaving for Africa in two days, there isn't a better time!
Why start a new bl0g, especially one that doesn't seem to be about anything?
I've been meaning to start a blog like this for some time. I already write a blog about a soccer team (Go Whitecaps), but I've always felt I needed a place that was more of an open canvas where I could chronicle the little fascinating things in life. A place where I can write down, share and discuss the little bits of wisdom that I stumble upon.
I've chosen the name Turn A New Leef because this blog is all about making every day interesting, either by learning something new or doing something differently. Every day is new and fascinating, with its own set of lessons and adventures.
And since I'm leaving for Africa in two days, there isn't a better time!
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