Ngorongoro Crater

Reminiscence, Awful Stench; Ngorongoro Crater; Goodbye to Africa

Awful Stench

We awoke to my wonderful alarm clock and the room smelled awful. Maybe the toilet didn’t flush or it had backed up, but whatever it was, it smelled. Bay didn’t mention it so I thought maybe it was me. I have had a bad stomach for 2 days and maybe it was a result of that. After leaving the room for breakfast (Bay didn’t want breakfast), the odor was even worse outside, just like old lobster shells from a lobster dinner the night before. I went to our table and then went to the buffet to get some bread and tea, returned and still no one mentioned it. Could it really be me? Is that why no one is sitting next to me? Finally Jackie said, “They said the smell is the smell of baboon pee.” Well, that was a relief to me and I could stop holding my breath and exhale.
On the way in the front seat with Max, I asked him about the spelling of Masai as I had also seen it spelled Maasai. He had another spelling, “Maasi.” Anyone else want to chip in?
And he taught us that “sopa” means “Hi” in the Maa language, and “serena” means “bye.” our hotels, the Sopa Tarangire and the Serena Manyaro, used these Maa words in their names.
The drive up the rim of the crater was hairraising as we climbed over 2000 feet straight up, through a forest, and with me sitting on the downhill side, looking straight down, it scared the bejesus out of me. Especially when the Land Cruiser tilted to the left toward the valley far below. But we made it to the top.

Reminiscence

After the dinner where Bay got so many compliments, we returned to the room. I got out the laptop and started typing and she went into the bathroom to change into her jammies. A few minutes later, she returned, went to the desk, sat down in front of the mirror, sat up straight, and asked, “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?” Isn’t she great?
And then today, Bay showed some pictures she had on her camera, including one of Dennis. Jane, a pretty psychologist from San Francisco, said he looked “distinguished and handsome.” We think she must have lost one of her contacts.

Ngorongoro Crater

Take a dog water bowl with a flat bottom that has a diameter of 12 miles, a rim 2100 feet high. Throw into the bowl thousands of animals, like hundreds of zebras, and thousands of wildebeest, 93 lions (the largest concentration in the world), warthogs, Thompson gazelles, Grant’s gazelles, rhinos, hippos, spotted hyenas, bat-eared foxes, and assorted other creatures. Add 392 species of birds, common (like ducks) and exotic (like crowned cranes). Sprinkle in a couple lakes, a swamp and small forest. Place hundreds of elephants in the forest at the top of the rim. Then get in your Toyota Land Cruiser and drive down the side of the rim and around the bottom looking at the animals, birds and scenery - that is a trip to Ngorongoro Crater. Can you see it? If not, look it up in Wikipedia until you see the pictures. It is spectacular and we had a wonderful day in it, stopping by one of the lakes for lunch. I can’t wait to show you the pictures of: a one-day old wildebeest; 15 lions at separate times; two lions cuddling each other while snoozing; a warthog running toward us down the road; hundreds of zebras; and then a herd of 50 elephants at the rim as we neared our hotel, Sopa Ngorongoro Lodge.
The hotel is like a ski lodge with spacious lobby, bar with fireplaces and large stuffed chairs and ceiling to floor windows on the side facing west toward the crater, and a dining room of the same configuration. Our room is huge as is the bathroom and faces the crater as well, and is right on the edge of the rim. We had a wonderful sunset, a delicious dinner, and then a chilly walk back to the room. Chilly, because we are 7,800 feet above sea level. Of course, chilly is relative. It’s probably 60.
It’s our last night, and the luxuriousness of our surroundings is in stark contrast to the poverty we have seen in both Kenya and Tanzania. Certainly eating my meal tonight, I could not help but reflect back upon what we had experienced and encountered on our long trips in the vans. Although long and often dusty, and as attractive flying between the parks would seem, I wouldn’t trade our van rides for the world. That is where we learn of the people, how they live, how they press to sell a necklace or scarf in order to feed their family, and the consequences of the drought and of the absence of tourists. What would we have missed? Well, we would have missed gaily clad women with firewood on their backs struggling along the side of the road; men pushing their heavily laden bicycles up the hills; a woman and her child carrying water in containers on their heads; the omnipresent smell of smoke; the charcoal bags on sale along the side of the road, and the smoking mounds of dirt in which the charcoal is made from acacia trees; market day in small villages; uniformed children with book bags on their way to school; well dressed people on their way to church walking along the side of the road; the goats and cattle crossing the road in the hope of greener pastures on the other side; dust devils; women creating and planting gardens along the side of the road because they have no garden plot of their own; women bent over digging up the soil to prepare it for planting; women hand-spreading seeds after the first rain; teeming mankind in the villages and the congregation of men just talking on the side of the road; very young boys tending flocks of cattle and sheep, up to 30 or 40 animals; the ubiquitous road construction and the alternate routes through the desert beside the new road; the dust kicked up by other traffic limiting visibility to 5’ or less at times; learning new Swaheli words like “njema” meaning “cool” from the roadside signs; the contrast of the roads in Tanzania (mostly good paved roads, some as good or better than home) and Kenya (other than the main east-west highway, poor to very poor dirt roads, or if tarred, with potholes all throughout the tar forcing drivers to drive with one side in the dirt on the side of the road; unusual signs for all the churches (for example, “Church of Jesus the Winner”); a woman carrying a suitcase on her head; Towumba or “Mosquito River”, a prosperous community with ample farms including rice farms; the Masai carrying sticks walking along the side of the road in their distinctive red garb to ward off lions; fruits, potatoes and vegetables for sale along the side of the road; “red bananas” having a reddish skin but the same inside; numerous police check points with their strip of nails on each side of the road,all of which we barely slowed up for; the Kenyans’ Range Rover, i.e. the donkeys everywhere, either bearing budens on their backs or pulling a wagon or grazing; and best of all, the smiles of the young boys who see your van coming, turn and ardently wave in the hope you will wave back. And we did.
In the end, this is a story about people, those on the trip and those we will leave behind but will not forget. Our group consisted of Dave and Jackie, Jane and Riz, Bay and me. Dave is a semi-retired engineer consulting on geo-thermal projects and formerly an employee at Los Alamos. He is smart, very well-traveled and most personable, and his wife, Jackie, a Brit, is extremely gracious, but strong, and far and away our best at game observation. Jane is a psychologist from the San Francisco area, and Riz does a lot of gardening. All four are knowledgeable about birds, although I got the feeling that Riz was the expert of the group. We got along very well and enjoyed each other’s company. The other group consisted of Hector and Rosa, a Mexican couple who have lived and prospered in Chicago for years, their sister in law, Irma, a Mother Teresa figure who is very attractive in a latin way with her dark hair and eyes, and most kind to all, and their friend, Janis, who had a hard time due to stomach problems, and then we had our senior citizens, the indomitable Virginia, age 81, who never missed a thing and who could not stop talking unfortunately, and Betty, who despite limitations in getting around, also did very well. And for me, as for past trips, Bay was a joy to have along and indispensable to the enjoyment I got out of the trip. She has a great sense of humor, and everyone fell in love with her, whether in her role as Queen Elizabeth, nurse, scientist or Cybill Shepherd (when she was thin).
Love to you all. May these writings give you the desire to come to Africa as it is a wonderful place. You need to meet these people. They are your brothers and your sisters, and they need you.

Love, Nat, Matt, DB, Rochester and Tall Man