The Killer B's of the Serengeti

Back in Dar Es Salaam after 4 great nights on the Seregeti plains. A quick recap of our test of stamina, which the Elders passed gloriously.

Travelling to our destination was an adventure in itself. We woke up at 5am to get to a local regional ariport instead of Dar's international airport. It was chaotic. Mr. Weynand saw our bags being loaded on a plain going elsewhere while some random airport employees were wheeling Grandma and Bea like they were a couple of wheelchair basketball all-stars. Somehow, someway, we got there. It took a 3 hour flight on a little 12 seater airplane to a regional airport in Arusha. This was followed by an hour delay, and then another hour flight aboard an 8 seater to a small air strip in a place I couldn't possibly find on a map. Rand McNally himself couldn't find this place. After another brief delay, we made one last flight to a small dirt airstrip. If the last airport was in the middle of nowhere, than this one was just a few miles to the west of nowhere. A suburb of the Middle of Nowhere if you will. On the approach, we saw some enormously plump hippos sun bathing by a watering hole and a string of wildebeests making the great migration that looked like an auntline from 10,000 feet. A small herd of elephants was the capper. This little taste of the wildlife helped grandma and Bea shake off the travel fatigue and reminded them of why they had come so far. Our pilot, a seasoned bush flier, alleviated the bordom of his routine route by dive bombing the dirt runway with a low pass to chase of the gazelle that were loitering it. With the runway clear, he took us in for a bumpy landing as Wildebeest seemed to play "chicken" amongst themselves - trying to cross the runway just before getting caught in the propeller blade. Welcome to the bush grandma!

Our guide, Muhamed, greeted us on the strip and fixed us some drinks. I had the Kilamanjaro lager. We loaded into our Land Cruiser. We did a game drive on the way back to the lodge, and saw some small game. Bea was estatic while Grandma was wide-eyed. Grandma was quickly dubbed "BiBi", prounounced Bee-Bee, which is Swahili for Grandma. Together, we joking called Bea and BiBi, the two long time friends from Falls City, TX, the "Killer B's". Its a ridiculous nickname for two of the gentlest souls you'll ever meet.

An hour or so later we arrived at our lodge. As I mentioned to some of you, the first leg of our trip was through a lodge called "Serengeti under Canvas" - the lodge itself was a tent. We were shown to our rooms, which were also tents. They were nice spacious tents to be sure - luxurious tents if there is such a thing - but they were tents nonetheless and had tent drawbacks. Like rocky uneven floors, a challenge for an uncoordinated bohemoth like me, so you can imagine the challenge for Grandma and Bea. The tents had some toilets that used a make shift septic system, but there was no running water otherwise. No A/C and no fans obviously.

I will admit, we were all worried about the situation. With respect to grandma and Bea, I never feared the animals. Having been on safari once before, I knew they posed no threat as long as we were smart. As for sickness, we were vaccinated for everything, so those worries were addressed. We had enough insect repellent that I'll be pissing deet for weeks. My worries were about exhaustion first, and the uneven terrain second. We took some creative steps to address our concerns, such as re-grading the ground underneath Grandma and Bea's bathroom and having Tree stay in their tent in case of late night emergencies. We also took turns sitting out the afternoon game drives to accompany Grandma and/or Bea for games of cards. To be honest, there was no shortage of volunteers as we were all a bit cashed.

These measures worked out well, and the risks Bibi and Bea assumed were rewarded with some amazing experiences, such as:

*A battle royal among a handful of hippos jockeying for position in a watering hole.
*Two crocs fighting for a fallen wildebeest - a fight that featured a classic Discovery Channel style Chomp 'n Roll by one of the crocs.
*Two cheetahs making an unsuccessful sprint for a baby wildebeest that just made it back to the heard in the nick of time.
*A male lion that rose on its paws and roared a warning at Theresa after she rose suddenly from her seat.
* We walked across the Gremeti River on a rope bridge to take pics of the crocs below.
* We drank gin and tonics in the middle of the plains while watching the sun set over the flattop acacia trees in the distance.
* The sound of wildebeests and hyennas within yards of our tents each night.
* a group of 15 or so giraffes walking single file accross a dusk sky backdrop.
* Eating breakfast on the plain with herds of zebra migrating past us on each side.
* Sipping beers recounting the days events while hanging by the campfire.
* Hanging out for an evening watching a lioness tend to her three cubs, about as rare of a scene as you will see in the bush given how overprotective female lions can be.

So yes, Grandma and Aunt Bea were roughing it. And the payoff was the sort of scenery that few will ever experience. They made it despite the exhaustive travel, bumpy game rides, and the midday heat that was stiffling even by their San Antonio standards. As they say back in their home town of Falls City, TX, these two old birds are tougher than green onions.

And it doesn't let up just yet. We wake up early tomorrow to fly to Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe. Yes, the same Zimbabwe that had its highly contested (and very violent) run-off election today. So we'll be arriving right about the time a state of emergency is declared. Guess thats why the travel agent gave us such a great deal? Thankfully, we'll be far removed from the capital where much of the destruction, terror, and mayhem will be going down. We'll regroup there and get some rest before taking our second safari in South Africa.

Stay tuned for some pics from the Serengeti, as well as some Spirit Awards. Also, I owe everyone an explanation why Theresa is now known among the locals as "Munajiwa BuiBui", or in English "The Killer of Turantulas". No joke. Stay tuned for an update, hopefully tomorrow once we arrive in Zim.

God's Grace as Lion Repellent

As a general rule, I like to make sure I am in good graces with God before I seek out lions and other deadly animals while on safari.  Its just plain good sense.  

Tony and I walked over to St Joe's Cathedral yesterday to pan for a mass outing - to check out the scene - and I think we both thought this was a mass that Grandma and Bea would be wise to skip.  They have enough spiritual capital in the bank for an eternity and a half.  Playing the traveler's dispensation card seemed simple and smart considering the humid temps, lack of A/C, uneven floors, and multiple stone steps.  Wooden kneelers had me thinking about calling this one in.

Apparently Grandma and Bea abide by the same general rule as I do and they insisted on going.  At ages 88 and 86, they take piety pretty seriously.  Its ingrained.  So the gang of 6 taxi'd over to the cathedral and went to mass said in Swahili.  True, we didn't understand a word of it but the cadence and ryhthm of the mass is the same in Swahili as it is in any language and we simply soaked it in.   We were the only white people in the church, but that was OK because that made us very popular at peace time.  Semi-celebrity status in fact.  

Everyone agreed that despite not speaking the language the mass was one of the most profoundly spiritual experiences of each of our lives.  It was aesthetically unparalleled.  Start with a beautiful church and a beautiful sunny day streaming through stained glass.  Then add in some excitement for your senses with some incense.  Add a 40 person choir decked out in shiny yellow robes and belting out tunes, and you have unmatched sensory and spiritual stimulation.  The choir was amazing.  If paul simon is looking for some backup singers to his follow up to the Graceland album, we have found them.  Their beauty of their voices were matched by their coordinated bobbing and weaving, hand waving and fluttering, stepping in place, and of course snapping and clapping.   Rows one and three would lean to the right while waving a hand while the rows two and four would do the opposite. 

I have no soul whatsoever, but I was feeling it.  Carol, Theresa, and Bea were actually brought to tears.  So how is it that this was the most spiritually fulfilling mass of any of our lives despite   the fact that we didn't catch a single word?  I think Bea said it best.  "God was there.  We are different, but we were all there for the same reason and God was there."  Predictably, Carol cried again when she heard Bea say that!  (And I'll be damned if this passage hasn't gotten the tear ducts of Kim Charles working right now!)

So Tree and I decide to walk back to the hotel and we're met by more street people than we had schillings for.  Many of them were amputees, and its anybody's guess as to whether they were political refugees who lost their limbs from land mines or if the losses were due to polio or something else.  Its fitting that we left that church with such a high and were immediately countered by harsh reality (on the way back to our 5 star hotel no less).  The collection baskets we stuffed full and the donations we made to our friend Sister Yuda's charity helped to soothe our conscience but the experience as a whole reminded the two of us that charitable giving might satisfy immediate needs but its a bottomless pit unless accompanied by some advocacy work.  My personal hope is that the experience is profound enough to jump start my on-again off-again spirituality.  (But in the short term I'd be happy with a shiny halo and beaming heavenly grace to ward off the lions!) 

This will be the last dispatch until Friday or so.  We head to the Serengetti in the morning, and I doubt that there is any internet where we are going.  We'll update you upon our return.  Have an excellent week.  

Eat, Drink, Sleep, and Repeat

Seems like our brief stay in Dar Es Salaam has refreshed everybody.  The itinerary here was intentionally light.  No commitments and no worries.  Just a chance for grandma and Bea to work out he aches and kinks for the trip while Tony, Carol, Tree, and I fatten up for the lions.

Turns out our hotel is really top notch.  Its the same one that the George Bush stayed at when visiting Tanzania a few months ago.  So we have started the last two days very early (easy to do when you are wide awake at 4am) and then feast on a breakfast buffet that is (a) gourmet, and(b)  mind blowing.  Start with made to order omlets.  Fresh passion fruit and mango.  They'll do a waffle for you.  They have an entire table of pastries.  And the best coffee ever.

So naturally, the first thing you do after a breakfast like that is go right back to bed.  That's some kind of vacation when your first nap is before 9am.

By noon we taking a light lunch.  Maybe splitting a few sandwiches between us.  Who needs food when Tree is ordering champagne and I've made it a personal mission to sample every local beer?  My favorite brand is called "Tusker", which was named for the elephant that killed one of the brewery founders.  No joke.  After a few adult beverages, its time to rest up again but not before we look ahead to dinner, the last round of the cycle.

Yesterday Tony put me on point for dinner arrangements.  It was the least I could do.  After all, he did arrange every detail of this transcontinental venture.  This was a simple task.  Get input, find a place, arrange for a ride.  Simple.

Seemed like everyone was jonesing for some comforty and carb-o-licious Italian food.  Seems like this craving just seized everybody in the group at about the time we passed over US boundry waters.  It was an insatiable craving.  We had enough smoked salmon to last three lifetimes on the trip over.  Nothing against fish.  We just felt like loading up.  Pizza was essential.  So I find an Italian restaurant at a nearby hotel called L'Ovieto.  I make reservations for 6:30pm and we are ready to roll.  

When we arrive, Theresa checked us in.

Tree: "Tobin party of 6"

Host: "I'm sorry...no Tobin"

Tree: "Is it under Richard?"

Host: "I have a Richie, partie of 4?"

Tree: "Hmm, no."

Host: "Richmond, party of 6?"

Tree: "Yep, that must be it." (figuring there was a Rich to Swahili translation mixup)

We sit down and order drinks.  Tree was the first to notice something odd.  

"This place doesn't look like the picture you (Rich) showed us in the magazine."

A few minutes later Tree piped up again...

"Is it odd that they have fishing nets as part of their decor?"

Then Tree finally said it.  "I think we're in the wrong restaurant."

They don't give Phds away to dummies folks.  She was right.  Turns out we went to the wrong L'Ovieto restaurant.  The italian restaurant by the same name was actually right down the hall in the same hotel.  We accidently found ourselves in the seafood restaurant and slipped in quite accidently.  Since our drinks were ordered we decided to ride it out and we had one of the best seafood meals ever despite the fact that no one was in the mood for it.  You basically picked out your fish and they'd cook it in front of you.  It was great, and since we're on a coastline it certainly made more sense than a Tanzanian Italian restaurant.  Thankfully the family played along with my gaffe and didn't bust my chops to badly.

They did however bust my chops over one of my better Swahili mishaps.

Me: "Kuna Choh" (Where is the tiolet)

Hostess:  "Huh?"

Me: "Kuna Choo??" (The uncertainty in my voice clearly evident)

Hostess:  "huh?"

Me:  "Restroom? Toilet?"

Hostess:  "To your right."

Perhaps out of curiosity, but more likely out of awkward embarrassment, I asked her how to say "Where is the toilet?" in Swahili.  She looked at me and said straight faced "John".

Awesome.  

Have Camera - Will Travel

Some quick picks for those of you who need photographic evidence of our arrival in Tanzania and overall well being.  

(1) Tree e-mailing from our hotel room.  

(2) Tony & our friend Sr. Yuda

(3) Bea & Grandma on the jet set

(4) Grandma and Tree sharing laughs before dinner and drinks.

(5) Me admiring the Serengetti (a Serengetti brand Lager that is).  More picks and updates later.

Operation Aqua-Net

Mom, HAPPY BIRTHDAY.  Or as they say in Tanzania "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" 

Yeah, English is well spoken here, which is somewhat disappointing since I was cramming Swahili from my phrasebook on the flight here.  Pops, you will be happy to know that at age 33 I am finally getting street-smart.  I have memorized a few commonly used phrases that should help me too navigate this foreign land.  These common phrases include...

"Habari" (hello)

"Asanti" (Thank you) 

"Unasema Kiingereza?" (Do you speak English?)

"Kuna Choo?" (Where is the toilet? I am about to have an accident.)

"Ita gari la hospitali!" (Quick, Call an Ambulance!)

"Saidia tafadhali!  Nilliibiwa!" (Please help me! I have been robbed!)

I think these phrases will be very useful.  

(Mom, now that I have officilly worried pops, it would be a good time to check his pulse.)

Tony, Carol, Tree, Grandma and Bea are about to get some aroma therapy and foot massages at the spa.  While they do that, I will give you all a brief report on Amsterdam, as seen from a one hour layover at the airport.  All in all, very disappointing, but then again...it was one hour at the airport so yeah, that's not a good basis for opinion.  Reagrdless, here it is...AMSTERDAM BY THE NUMBERS.

0 - Number of reefer bars seen at the Amsterdam airport.

0 - Number of "Royales with Cheese" eaten by self at the Amerstam airport.

0 - Number of windmills sited or pairs of wooden shoes tried on.

0 - Number of dykes I stuck my finger in.

0 - Number of cans of Aqua Net hairspray purchased to replace the ones Grandma had confiscated in Dallas.

.000001 Percent chance we will find a can of AquaNet here in Tanzania.

All in all, Amersterdam gets an "I" for incomplete.  So I guess I will have to come back sometime.

Gotta run.  Stay tune for another dispatch shortly.

(and MUGS, Happy B-Day to you too!)  

GOOD MORNING DAR-ES-SALAAAAAAAAM!

Today's dispatch from room 524 at the Kempinski hotel in Dar Es Salaam.  It's about 8:30 am here, and Tree and I are sipping on coffee looking out at the ships and cranes keeping the harbor busy.  We asked a hotel attendant about the days temperature, he said he didn't know it but assured us it would be "very cold".  Tree said "Can you define cold?  Because we're from Wisconsin and...  (Our blood is thick - viscous as hell in fact)..."  He then assured us that the weather will be "Very hot".  If he had told me the temp in degrees centigrade, I am sure it would have translated roughly the same way anyhow. 

So yes, we arrived safely after an epic two day journey.  Put yourself in the shoes of Grandma (age 88) or Bea (her best friend from Falls City, TX, still spry at age 86) as I run through the recap...

Day 1: San Antonio to Dallas (1 hr)

(They stayed in Dallas for a day)

Day 3: 

Dallas to Detroit (2hrs)

(a half hour layover and a sprint through the airport)

Detroit to Amsterdam (about 8 hours, but a lot of time on the runway)

(an hour layover - and another airport dash)

Amsterdam to Kilinmanjaro Tanzania (about 10 hours - and we went from one day to another somewhere on this flight - i think - the days are blurred at this point.)

Day 4:

We arrived at Kilinmanjaro at 9pm or so in whatever time zone it is that they (we) are in.  Then sat on the runway for an hour before taking the last leg of our trip - an hour flight to Dar Es Salaam.

And Grandma and Bea survived this epic travel day with the grace you'd expect from two classy southern ladies.  Grandma is a bit achy as you can imagine, but she'll have two days in a first class hotel to rejuvenate.  Tony is taking her to the spa today for some pampering, which should help to shake off the jetlag.  Bea too.  I think these two ladies are as tough as they are sweet.  An unique combo indeed.  

In all, nothing went smoothly per se, but everything worked out.  There were some delays and some confusion as you might expect.  Amazingly, Bea was selected for additional security screening in Amsterdam, but they were easier on her than the Dallas TSA officials were on grandma.  Airline service was hit or miss, but that's the expectation nowadays.  In fact, the only significant travel mishaps seemed to involve me as I have established myself as the high maintenance traveller of the group.

To start, in Detroit, I noticed Bea's wheelchair was making some funny noises, like something was stuck in the spokes.  One of the wheels was off line just a bit and dragging.  We tried to fix and adjust, but we had to keep pace with he group and  couldn't stop for long.  We were drawing some stares as a result of the noise, so I decided to look out for some better options.  As luck would have it, I found an abandoned wheelchair and quickly did a switch.  Bea jumped from one wheelchair to the other and we quickly caught up with the group.  It occurred to me after the fact that I found the "abandoned" wheelchair outside a rest room, and that it probably wasn't really abandoned, or if it was, it was abandoned only temporarily as the occupant was occupying a seat of the flushing variety while we were pulling our daring switcheroo.  So yeah, I essentially stole a wheelchair from a disabled person.  You snooze, you lose.  This is how we roll (wheelchair pun not intended).

On the flight to Amsterdam, I drugged myself to sleep using the potent sleeping pill Ambien in order to bring my sleep schedule in line with our calendar.  The idea was to reduce the effects of jetlag, which seemed essential especially given the late nights I had leading up to the trip.  When we landed, I was still in an Ambien induced funk.  After leaving the plain, I realized I left my boarding pass and baggage claim info on the plane.  YIKES.  While Tony and Theresa arranged for some assistance for Grandma and Bea to get to the next gate, I walked back onto the plane.  I somehow sweet talked some local airline attendants to let me do it - an accomplishment indeed - sweet talking across language barriers is not easy, but I think my panicked expression actually frightened the woman.  She was hesitant perhaps due to security concerns, but my English panic talk worked like some sort of Jedi mind trick ("You have nothing to worry about - I do not conern you!")  The passes and claim tickets were on my seat.  Apparently they slipped out of my pocket while passed out cold.

Those claim tickets turned out to be pretty important because my bag was a no show at the airport last night in Dar Es Salaam.  We were due for some complications, so naturally it was me that it involved.  Better me than Grandma and Bea.  I am the least fashionable of the group, so wearing the same clothes for a few more days has little impact.  I also wear considerably less makeup than they do.  And my BO smells like roses, so no harm done there.  

My bag was located in Amsterdam, and it will be delivered to the hotel tonight...hopefully.  Feel free to place bets amongst yourselves on the likelihood of that happening.  If worse comes to worse, I may have to go to the local marketplace to get some clothes.  Maybe an oversized shirt with red, black, and green zig zag stripes and pants to match? I saw some guy at the airport wearing that, and I regret not getting the name of his tailor.  (I suspect I have some people rooting against me getting my luggage now.) 

Gotta ice my wrists from this lengthy dispatch.  I have a few other updates to post shortly, so stay tuned. 

Terror Threat Narrowly Averted!

Today's dispatch from terminal 2 - chicago O'Hare.  A late night of chasing down loose ends is not stopping me from enjoying a Heineken to celebrate the end of my book learnin' days.  Just as I toasted with Theresa ("A Toast - No More Reading - Ever"), Theresa gets a ring from the rest of our travel party at DFW.  "We have a situation" 

Let the hijinx begin!

Turns out 88 year old grandma was pulled aside for additional security screening.  Apparently TSA thought that her lovely south texas lady persona was just a cover.  Who knows what she was concealing under her fashionable Alfred Dunner attire.  A search of her carry on revealed the threat.  A mysterious gelatenous concoction disguised as Clinique Cold Creme!  The Horror!  

When it was all said and done, all of her make-up was confiscated.  Sure, the skies are safe.  But how is a sweet Texas lady like Grandma going to get her face on for the people of Dar Es Salam Tanzania?  We are putting an emergency plan together.  We have a short layover in Amsterdam.  We plan to divide and concur that airport in search for high quality lotions and creams.  Grandma will not be denied!