Showing posts with label African Time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label African Time. Show all posts

Sunday, May 19, 2013

Je suis en train de vivre la vie de mes rêves ici au Cameroun.

New Foods I’ve Tried:
Kwakoko and Banga soup
Mbongo tchobi with fresh fish (my new favorite!!) with ripe plantain.
Grilled bay fish with bobolo (last time I had only morocco fish)
Njama njama (leafy green vegetables prepared almost like a stew and similar to Ndole)
Corn chaff with rice and beans (corn chaff is just some sort of stew like dish with oil, corn and beans that is put with rice and beans).
Koki beans and cassava (a type of beans that are cooked with red palm oil inside of a large banana leaf)
Pepe soup with goat meat (very very spicy soup)
Cow skin (it is very chewy and tough)
Snails (tastes like a bunch of spices trying to cover up a bad taste)

*You eat all of these things with pepe – a mix of many spices and peppers usually prepared by using a rock to mash and mix ingredients on a flat surface.

Mbongo Tchobi - at first sight I didn't think I would like it, but I always try new things..
my taste buds were in for one delicious surprise!! It's my new favorite food!

Elephant Dance aka Mali Dance
Last month I was invited to witness a Bakweri ceremonial event called the Elephant Dance. Since then, my work has become more time consuming but I am trying to collect names for interviews and am in the midst of writing an ethnographic essay on the dance. I hope to have it finished soon – but I want to make this one more than just a story with pictures. I am really trying to get the meanings behind things and interview a variety of Bakwerians.
More to come on this…

Mini Tour of My Home in Buea
Monica (my coworker) and I live in a small separate house just behind the families large house. We have our own kitchen, living room/salon, bathroom and separate rooms. I feel spoiled here in comparison with my living situation in Ndejje, Uganda. This area and Cameroon in general, has a very large middle class. Here is a mini video I made real quick to show you our compound and house :)
I de try talk pidgin small-small
My Pidgin-English is really picking up. Every time I am out with my friends I encourage them to speak to me in Pidgin and I try to say whatever I can to anyone throughout my day to others. People are always surprised to hear a white man speaking (or trying to speak) Pidgin but they are always happy and helpful as well. When I take taxis or am just talking to people on the street, if there is something I can ask or say in Pidgin Enligsh I do - they usually laugh but not in a bad way. I came here to learn French but that is just not going to happen in this region…I will have to wait until I move to Yaoundé. If you want to work on your Pidgin-English or just to see what it’s all about, check out this worksheet I found written by both Cameroonians and a foreigner.

Muea Teen Mother Empowerment Workshops
Upper and Lower Muea are my babies. They are the first group of girls that I have been working with from step one. I went to see the chiefs, I talk to the social mobilizers, I met with all the teens and after 2 weeks of identification, 2 weeks of Mutual Health coverage paperwork the real lessons and workshops are finally underway! Last week we talked about a variety of topics that fall under the category of ‘sex education’. This week we worked on ‘setting and achieving’ goals. I brought markers and poster paper so the girls could make a “vision board” to hang in their house which reminded them of their long term, medium term, and short term goals.

Bolifamba Teen Mother Empowerment Workshops
Although at first I felt like the social mobilizers of Bolifamba somewhat exploited Social Development International for payment, I am very happy with the turn out we have had. For the identification we had 96 girls show up!!! NINETY SIX!! The last 2 weeks we have been filling out Mutual Health paper work and have been averaging more than 70 girls. The only problem now is keeping them quiet and focused. Also, many of them are over our age limit of 20years so I am just not sure if they will be allowed to participate in the project fully. It’s up to the director.

Other News with Teen Mother Empowerment
Once a month we are planning on doing a combined workshop that will cover 2-3 topics and run all day long. This weekend workshop was necessary so that the girls would graduate by the time my internship was finished. Their graduation date is set for Sunday August 4th! I was fortunate enough to speak with the owner (who happens to also be the chief of Upper Muea) of King David’s Hotel in Muea and he is allowing Social Development International use their facilities/conference room free of charge for the 3 dates I’ve selected for weekend workshops. This is huge! It should have cost 100,000cfc per day ($200)!!

Today I went with one of the Bolifamba social mobilizers to Dibanda village to meet with mobilizers there. I will meet again with them on Monday to sensitize them about the program and will give them one week to work their magic. I will be identifying teens in Dibanda on the 27 May hoping to target 20.

Here is our GlobalGiving site where we get most of our funding for the projects from.

My field partner has been MIA (he has had family visiting from US and other regions of Cameroon) so I’ve been very busy facilitating workshops alone, creating curriculum and continuing the social mobilizing of other villages. I was quite nervous at first but its been rewarding and now I am more confident in my abilities :)

“Black-man time”
On of the most difficult challenges I have always had on this continent is TIME. In the U.S. you always hear people say “Time is money” and it’s very true. Growing up my Father used to tell me, “Being on time is being 10 min early”. I remember showing up for work everyday, 10min early just to be sure I am not late. Here, it is the exact opposite. No one likes to wait for people so they always show up late. 10am mean 11am sometimes closer to noon. I even went to a fashion show which had “5pm prompt” on the ticket…I had never seen the words “prompt” appear before so I figured they had to be serious about starting on time… nope! 8pm rolls around and finally the event was starting.
I call it “black man time” because that is what everyone refers to it here has. When I speak with Cameroonians or even other Africans about this time issue, they say “its black man time” or in french “l’heure africaine”. I always tell my girls at the workshops, “See you next week at 4pm! 4pm white man time!” and they always laugh. Their time has been improving greatly.

A Short and Sweet Visit to Bamenda
Just before arriving in Cameroon, I went to visit SIT Graduate Institute in Brattleboro, Vermont. While there, I met a wonderful women named Kellen who was from Bamenda, Northwest Region, Cameroon. It was such a conscience that I met her, what a blessing. She sent me with some things to bring to her family so last weekend I finally had time to take the trip up to Bamenda. I was there for less than 2 days because of work commitments, but what a beautiful city it was – I know I will be back to see more. I took the night bus after my workshop on Friday and arrived at maybe 7am. Whenever you take a long journey (more then 1hour) there is always someone who is either preaching the word of God or trying to sell you something throughout the majority of your ride. This time it was an herbal medicine man. I usually tune out by listening to music but thankfully I was between songs when I heard the man say, “The use of knowledge is power.” I was impressed with that quote if you will so I thought I would share.

The bus got a flat tire along the way, but I was sleeping for most of the journey. The family was absolutely charming and so hospitable I couldn’t believe it. They picked me up at the bust station, brought me to their home, gave me a place to stay, food to eat and even sent me with clothes on my back!

Before taking the night bus back on Sunday evening, I attended Pidgin-English mass with them at their church, it was great! People always ask me, “What do you like about Africa?” (as if ‘Africa’ is one place) - as if the answer was that easy… I always have a hard time describing what it is that grabbed my heart so many years ago, but my weekend experience in Bamenda with this family encapsulates it all. A family who within less than 48 hours accepted me as their own and became my own family in Bamenda. I really can’t explain it – you just have to live it, feel it and breathe it yourself to really understand.

I will be back in August to see Angle’s First Communion and possibly sooner just for a visit. I will also be hoping to do 'The Ring Road' (just North of Bamenda) during that time too - hopefully the rains have stopped. The Ring Road is circular route through epic Cameroonian mountains. Along this road is Mount Oku, the Kimbi River Game Reserve, the Menchum River waterfalls, a huge chief's palace, a pyramidal thatched shrine and tons and tons of tiny chiefdoms. To greet a chief you kneel down not looking him in the eyes, clap three times and then bring him a gift, like palm wine or something. Unless you are in the Southwest or Littoral regions which are more 'liberal' therefore shaking hands with the chief is acceptable.

Rain Rain Rain
Rainy season is definitely coming. It has been raining more and more and the roads are getting worse and worse. I need to pick up rain-boots before its too late. Getting to the villages will be a task in and of itself. I predict participation dropping. My field partner said that this was the worst time to start a project like this, right before rainy season which generally falls during June, July, and August.

Limbe’s Beach Yeilds First Class Sun Burn.
I took a one day trip to Limbe this weekend. Limbe is where I spent 3 weeks in 2011/12 doing the ‘tourist’ thing. It’s a beautiful beach town with Mount Cameroon in the backdrop and oil rigs off the coast in the distance. It’s a short 45min drive from Buea and makes a perfect cheap day get away. The downside of going alone to get some ‘alone time’ was that I didn’t apply my sun block properly and am now suffering from extreme burns on the backside. My friends here don’t have to worry about sunburn and the majority of them don’t even really know what it means or understand it. I just say its “white man problems”.

Buea the Beautiful
When I first arrived I thought Buea was a huge city – 200,000 people…that is 10x the size of my home in Arcata, California and more than 20x the size of my hometown Montreal, Wisconsin. But now, after more than two months here (seems like so much longer) I am seeing that it is quite small. I find myself bumping into friends and people I know on a regular basis and when I meet new people, they often know other people I know – its fun :D

I am also really impressed with how CLEAN Buea is! Especially compared to other places I have lived it is just remarkably well kept. Every Wednesday morning all the shops close and the whole town is cleaning! The initiative is called "Keep Buea Clean". They sweep out front and pick up all garbage around. There are city workers who sweep that garbage into bins and even sweep the gutters and streets.  

Strikes and Teargas!
On the 15th, my host sister returned shortly after she had left for morning classes saying that many of the students at University of Buea went on strike. This wasn’t the first time. I have heard 2 rumors as to why they were striking: #1 (and most likely) the Vice Chancellor was threatening to take away receipts for exams. At first I didn’t understand what that meant so I inquired from other students. At the end of the term there are finals exams, if a student fails the final they can take a receipt during the summer so that they don’t have to repeat their entire term again. Unlike in the US where you choose the classes you take so if you failed you would only retake 1 – here you would have to come back and take all of the classes (even the ones you didn’t fail) again. Or at least that is how it was explained to me. So many students pass classes from taking the receipt exam during the summer. If she took that away, many students would have to retake several terms and they were not happy about that. Reason # 2 (less likely) someone has told me that it all started when a guard at the school yelled at a young man for his trousers being too low (there is a dress code throughout the country and authority has the right to enforce it). He wasn’t cooperating and began yelling at the guard, one thing led to another – rocks were thrown and the strike started. The first one is more believable but who really knows.
A few hours after my sister came home from school we heard some ruckus outside our compound gate which is situated directly next to University of Buea (UB). We ran to the gate to see 3 huge Cameroon Police trucks packed with fully armed policemen entering campus at high speeds. Then an hour or so later we heard more noise and went to see students marching towards the entrance/gate of campus. They were climbing on things, jumping over the walls and yelling. I went to talk to a few students to see what was going on and that’s were I got the rumors I mentioned. It quickly died down and soon there was no one around.
Mid afternoon I decided to go get some photos printed for my workshops. On the way home I bumped into a friend who offered to take me out for some fresh squeezed sour sop juice, I couldn’t say no to that! As we waited in the restaurant for the juice I heard POW!! The restaurant was full and everyone was a bit startled and began looking around. Then all of a sudden – POW POW POW POW POW!!!!!! Nearly everyone rose to their feet and several ran into the room just behind where clients take their food. I was still unsure of what was happening but there sure was a lot of commotion going on. Soon I saw clouds of grey smoke bellowing into the restaurant – I turned to see one of the waiters signaling for me to come into the kitchen so I ran that way! He directed me out the back door and as soon as I hit the back door I realized – they had thrown tear gas. My eyes and nose began to burn and water uncontrollably. My throat swelled up and it became hard to breath. I followed a rush of people who had cloth covering their faces into a small tailor shop behind the restaurant. We quickly shut the doors and windows! Everyone inside the shop was suffering with the same conditions – I joked with them and said it felt like I had ate too much pepe…they laughed. Things seemed to have simmered down a bit and the air lost its haziness that came from the teargas smoke and people slowly started to come out from hiding. I stepped out and met my friend who I was taking juice with. Since we had already paid for the juice, we waited for things to calm down a bit and then we sat and drank the juice. I was a bit scared and shocked at the time, but not too much. In hindsight, what an experience! As my sister Olivia joked, “You can put that on your resume!” The thing that really botheres me about the whole situation is the excessive and unnecessary use of force by the Cameroonian police. This took place in Molyko (which is a neighborhood in Buea) where I live, where the University is placed and is one of the busiest places in Buea…but, this restaurant was NOT on campus nor were any of the patrons participating in the strike on campus or having anything to do with it. We were all minding out own business – just eating food and drinking juice.
Later that night as I wrote in my journal I heard more commotion outside – no people or voices just the same similar POW POW POW sound. Within minuets I could smell the odor of smoke coming in through my bedroom windows. I recognized the smell – my nose began to burn and that is when I knew…more teargas. I don’t know why they decided to throw it at that time of night when nothing was even going on.

You can read more about the events here and here.

Rasta week
This week is called Rasta week by several school kids. Reason number one is because its like a ‘lazy week’ where most students don’t go to school unless they are writing exams (meaning they are graduating). Since the whole school body and faculty are busy preparing for exams, they don’t have time for the other students so the other students don’t really have class. The second reason is because last Saturday (the 11th) was the anniversary of Bob Marley’s death.

Merrily Singing
Always when I walk around the city people are just singing to themselves. They can be walking, selling fruit on the street, sweeping or just sitting and enjoying a rest. It’s so peaceful hearing others sing just out pure enjoyment and contentment with life. At the end of all of the workshops we sing songs as well. Most of them are gospel songs but everyone participates and it’s quite fun!

Puff-Puff and The Missing Camera
My dear friend Charlotte invited me to learn how to make and fry puff-puff at her house. I was delighted and jumped on the offer! I woke up and left my house early so that I would finish before noon and still have the other half of the day to work on SDI projects. Before leaving the house, I scanned my room for my camera so that I could document my puff-puff making experience. It was no where to be found. I don’t use it much and it always sits in the same place so I have concluded that someone stole it. I usually but not always lock my door. If I go out just momentarily when someone is in the other house I usually leave it unlocked with the door closed. It was taken between Monday and Wednesday because I found it missing Thursday morning. OH WELL! Life goes on right?
I wasn’t able to document the puff-puff activities with a camera, but I did get the recipe:

Puff-Puff

Ingredients:
1 liter warm water
½ cup sugar
1 tbs salt
1tbs yeast
1-2 tbs baking powder
1 kilo flour
½ liter oil

Directions:
Add sugar, salt and yeast to warm water and stir.
Slowly add flour and mix with hands.
After more than half the flour is mixed, put 1-2 tbs baking powder and mix.
Add the rest of the flour.
Stir with hands until smooth and runny like.
Let sit for 1 hour (or even overnight if you would like).
Put oil on large pot and heat for deep frying.
Scoop up batter with one hand holding it palm up. Its runny batter so be careful!
In one quick motion you must tip your hand so that your thumb and pointer finger are facing down towards the oil and quickly (but with grace) let a small amount of batter run between the pointer finder and thumb. Then cut off the stream of batter by closing the gap/hole between the thumb and finger. It’s like you are trying to make small round droplets of batter plop into the frying oil.
Let them turn golden brown before taking them out, check the center to be sure they are cooked, and let them cool in a metal strainer. ENJOY!
*You could half this recipe and it would still yield a lot of puff puff to share*

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Tubing on the River with the kiddies and the epic climb to Africa's rooftop: Mount Kilimanjaro


After running around Ndejje and making phone calls to all of the parents of the children who succeeded in Environmental Education it was time clean my house, pack up my belongings and say goodbye to a home that still felt new.

Sunday (8/14) was my last full day in Ndejje Village. Fabrice and Fabienne had moved out of Ndejje but came back to visit. From my understanding, someone in UNHCR offered them a house in a different village with no rent, so naturally, the huge family took the offer and moved. New York Cafe in Kampala was the last meal Fabrice, Fabienne and I ate together – their first time eating pizza! 

Me and Fabienne at NY Cafe
Sarah (a volunteer from Soccer Without Borders) was leaving the following days as was I and we both decided to have a small get together/cook out at her house to say goodbye to students and neighbors. Dark came quickly and I had to leave before it got too late.
 



Samuel and I

Acheal, his brother they call Japonai and me



The departure time for the Jinja Field trip was set at 6:30AM. I warned the children (and their parents while on the phone) many times that if they were late we would leave without them. Shandruki and Espoire definitely were NOT late; they showed up with their mother at my house at 4:45AM! They helped me back up the final things in my house and we walked to the roadside just as dawn was hitting. The taxi driver who Teacher Jacob had helped me arranged was not answering his phone and was nowhere to be found. Forced to find another driver, we negotiated a price and headed towards the school. There was only 1 student who was on time!! Time is nothing in Africa. People say “soon” but it really means sometime today. 
Kids on the bus heading to Jinja!
People use the phrases “now” and “now-now”, the latter one meaning sooner than “now.” My phone began ringing with parents on the other line telling me their child was on the way. 
After waiting another 15-20min and picking up about 8 more students we began to head towards Kampala picking up more children along the way. Finally around 7am the matatu (taxi/Nissan van) was filled with 1 driver, 3 adults (including me) and 16 children and we were heading to meet the Nile River Explorer bus in Kampala!! One of the mothers and a teacher joined the field trip as chaperones. Because of the inevitable traffic jams surrounding Kampala, we missed the bus and were forced to continue in the crammed matatu the rest of the way to Bujagali/Jinja (80km). During the ride I taught them how to play “I Spy” and handed out prizes such as stickers, toothbrushes/toothpaste, pens/pencils, and other fun things.

Getting ready to go on the river!
 
Paul was waiting for the van and ready for the pep-talk/briefing to begin! The children were so excited and were surprisingly well behaved. Half of the children went with Paul and Zen Tubing to go on the river, down the rapids, and see Bujagali Falls while the other group waited patiently swimming near the shores of the Nile River. Splashing, playing in the water and teaching some of the children how to swim was much more enjoyable than sitting in a classroom with a chalkboard. This was the teaching style I had been searching for. The kids actually seemed interested when I told them about the benefits and drawbacks of the Hydro Electric Dams in Uganda. Then the groups switched so that everyone was able to do the same thing. 



Tubs!



Students looking at Bujagali Falls. This epic rapid is set to be flooded
by the dam in October.

Brother and sister: Julian and Julie

When all the fun was over a early and light dinner was ready and waiting for them before they packed themselves back onto the matatu to head back to Ndejje. Prior to departure, the driver of the taxi and I had agreed on a price of the days driving and I gave that money to Catherine (the teacher who accompanied us for the day). We all said goodbye and after they left Paul and I began frantically packing for the next month on holiday; our bus was leaving in an hour or two! Before long, Paul had received a phone call from the reception desk at Nile River Explorers in Jinja informing him that the matatu with HOPE Primary School was there and the driver was demanding more money!! Needless to say, I was not thrilled and sped into town to sort things out. In the end they made it home safely to Ndejje and I did not budge on my price, I’ve been told several times that I am a good bargainer…I think I get that from my Dad.

Student of HOPE Primary School on Jinja Field Trip.


Kampala Coach arrived nearly 2 hours late but finally we were on our way to Arusha, Tanzania; a place I called home Summer of 2007. It was a cold, bumpy and sleepless ride to the Kenyan border. Being welcomed by begging street children and intoxicated men trying to grab you at half past midnight was not ideal; one becomes very good at ignoring people here. Being in Swahili country now, my Lugandan words of ndakka (leave me) and pisa embi (bad manners) would not work – I needed to learn those phrases in Swahili and fast! As soon as we arrived in Nairobi we changed busses and sat from about 3:30am-5am and then continued on to Arusha getting there at about noon.

View of Arusha from our hostel.

The next two days prior to the Mount Kilimanjaro trek were spent walking around Arusha seeing old cites and restaurants that were still in my memory. The tribunals for the Rwandan Genocide of 1994 were being held at the International Criminal Court (ICC) in Arusha but when we had tried to see a trial, it was closed to the public.

Only in Africa do you see a business that “specializes in motorcycle parts and used shoes” on one side of the street and a man advertising for a cell phone company by dancing with a microphone and a bright pink t-shirt on top of a huge van that is loaded with blasting speakers.

On the 18th we headed to Moshi on a coaster (its bigger than a matatu but smaller than a bus) and then took a dalla-dalla (matatu/taxi in Swahili) to Marangu where we met with the hotel that we booked the trek with nearly 1 year ago. The hotel was amazing with a beautiful garden, self-contained rooms (hot hot showers!) and an amazing inclusive “last supper” before the hike. Having nearly nothing for the climb, we borrowed equipment from the hotel and met the 3 others that would join us on the mountain: 2 Dutch women (Pien and Linda) and a man from Prague who lived in Canada (Jerry). The five of us sat with a man named Shamus who briefed us on the next 6 days on Mount Kilimanjaro. Pole-pole is Swahili for slowly-slowly and one phrase he told us to get used to because the key to climbing Kili was going slow and drinking water. He was very thorough and very knowledgeable about the mountain and the climb – we were in good hands.

Day One:
Woke up a little nervous. After finishing the final packing and eating our “last breakfast” the five of us waited around for an hour or two while our crew assembled and our bills were paid – just in case something happened to you on the mountain they wanted to be sure they were paid haha. Five climbers = 1 lead guide, 4 assistant guides (including 1 cook) and 6 porters to carry everyone’s belongings. The 5 guides consisted of a father and his 4 sons. It was beautiful. The father, Emanuel, had been climbing the mountin since 1947 and was at the time 78 years old – amazing!!
The hiking was very very easy and slow. We moved like snails in the middle of a rainforest jungle with a hiking stick in one hand and a water bottle in the other. From the Marangu Gate to the Mandara huts (where we would spend our first night) we hiked about 10-12km and had an increased elevation of only 720m. The huts were the highest I had ever been – 2700m! Every step after that was an accomplishment for me J The huts were furnished with solar panels that provided lighting inside and also included 4 beds and mattresses.
 



Lunch on Day ONE!
Jerry, Linda and Pein on the left: Paul on the right!

pole-pole Paul!

Beautiful rainforest of Mount Kilimanjaro.

Day Two:
My nerves had calmed and the night wasn’t too cold. Tea at 7:30am followed by a full breakfast prepared by our wonderful cook with the help of our porters. We were one of the last groups, if not the very last group, to leave Mandara and head 12-15km up to Horombo huts. This day was longer than day one, but the scenery was just as beautiful and changed significantly with the 1020m altitude increase. We passed Maundi Crater along the path and vowed to take the side trail on the way down when we didn’t need to save out energy. Stopping periodically to drink water, use the bathroom/bush, and then to eat lunch, we finally arrived to Horombo at about 4/5pm. Time was of the least importance to us – we kept telling ourselves “pole-pole.” It was at Horombo where were were taking an extra day to help our bodies acclimatize to the altitude of 3720m



Frozen overnight...
Tea time all the time (Horombo Huts)

Our home for Day 2, 3 and 5.

Gangs all ready!

Day Three:
We slept in and started a light day hike before noon. We hiked towards Mawensi hut (used by climbers on a different route) and went past the famous “Zebra Rocks.” The guides said ‘you see zebras on safari, but you see zebra rocks on Kilimanjaro!’ Horombo was definitely the busiest of the huts – climbers going up, climbers on their “rest day” like us, and climbers coming down; stories were shared and although some eased out tensions, others made us all a bit more nervous for what was ahead. We saw many great views of Kibo (the summit) and also of Kilimanjaro other, more technical, peak Mwenzie. We all went to sleep early knowing this was going to be our last full nights sleep.


Some of our guides


Zebra Rock!

Paul and I with a clear view of whats ahead.
Day Four:
Another 12-15km to hike with an increase of another 1000m… pole-pole. Around us, the vegetation changed once again and became like an alpine desert…not many plants and animals can survive at this altitude and the cold temperatures that the night brings. The last watering point was at 4130m – everyone filled every container they had and the porters carried enough to cook with, wash with, and then some extra to fill out bottles. They are amazing men and they make Kili possible. This day was the most exhausting yet. Feeling out of shape by walking quickly to catch up with friends, I told myself it was the altitude and then again reminded myself: pole-pole. Kibo huts were spotted from a distance but it seemed after 3 hours of hiking they weren’t any closer, I stopped paying attention to them. We finally arrived at Kibo huts (4700m) around 4pm and got ready for the big summit not too far away. We had a nice dinner and were briefed on the events to follow in the next 36 hours. I felt like every other day had just been walk in the park but soon we would attempt to summit Mount Kilimanjaro with another 1195m and 6km to go. The plan: go to sleep immediately after dinner (6pm), wake up at about 11pm and have some biscuits and tea before we bundled up in ALL of our warm clothes and headed towards the summer at midnight in the midst of a dark and very cold night with only a torch/flashlight on our head to see.


Layering up, its getting cold today.

Day Five:
Tea had never tasted so bitter that morning, or should I say night (it was still before midnight). Beginning the summit wasn’t that bad: I had one three pairs of socks, 3 layers on the bottom, 5 or 6 layers on the top, gloves, hat and a balaclava over my face. Quickly becoming hot, I stripped some of my core layers and continued. After two hours of hiking I couldn’t feel my feet; my core was still warm and cozy but my toes felt like blocks of ice on the end of my foot. I continued to hike while wiggling my toes and hitting them on the ground to help the circulation. We were already passed by some people on their way down (they hadn’t made it to the top, they had decided to stop climbing). The pain in my feet became unbearable and the hike was suddenly not fun to me anymore. When I was told we nearly half way and not even at 5000m I made the executive decision and began hiking town back to my warm sleeping bag with one of our guides. Paul, Jerry Pein, and Linda continued up but soon Pein turned around as well. The three of them made it to the crater rim AKA Gilman’s Point (5681m) a bit after five in the morning and then continued onto the highest point, Uhuru peak (5895m), arrive just in time for sunrise. Paul was stumbling around like a drunk due to the altitude and the three began their decent back to Kibo huts for a short rest, a meal and then more hiking. Paul arrived back to camp about 10am looking exhausted. Apparently, one of his water bottles had a frozen cap and leaked water the whole time which froze down his leg – then he lost the top to his other water bottle leaving him with nearly nothing to drink. Good thing I was waiting for him at the bottom with fresh water, a snickers bar, and a big smile! After packing up and resting, the five of us continued down to Horombo huts.


Pein and I posing for our victory photo!

Kibo Huts
Day Six:
All of us were looking forward to hot showers and a cold beer (cider for me). We left camp early and began the 27km hike down the mountain which was no longer hiked at a pole pole speed. We went arakka-arakka (Swahili for quickly-quickly) and made it to the gate before 2pm. We stopped to see the crater and then again for lunch. Exhausted, we got on the back of a truck and headed towards the hotel.





This is what you will get wheeled down from the mountain on if you become
too sick/weak to hike yourself. One wheeled stretcher...we saw 2 people coming
down on these.


Back at the gate! We did it!

Back of the truck ride to the hotel.

SUMMIT MAN getting his certificate for making it to the top!
So very proud of him!
We enjoyed the hot showers, the good food and a nice bed. Our bus ticket was booked for 8am to take us from Moshi (near Marangu village) to Mombassa, Kenya so we weren’t able to sleep quite yet.