Serenading Serengeti

At the outset, I apologize for typos/grammatical errors in my posts- I write as time and internet connectivity permits, and don’t have the privilege of proofreading! So sorry.

From Nairobi, we flew to the gateway of all safaris- little town of Arusha in Tanzania. As soon as we landed and were waiting in the meandering immigration lines, Manav had a bit of an allergic reaction to one of his mosquito bites; nothing terrible but he was very itchy. I had some Benadryl tucked away but it was in the bag that they had just taken to have checked (turned out it was legos that were suspect!)...anyway, while I could have waited to get it, my instinct to just help find him instant relief was very high. So, I look around and there is a desi family (probably living in the UK, judging from their accent) in the immigration line next to ours...so I lean over and ask ‘Aunty’ if she has an antihistamine and right away, out comes a whole strip of it, complete with directions on dosage for a child. I am touched by these random acts of kindness I see as I travel...we thank her knowing , we will never meet again. 

Oh wait, now we have the meds but nobody has water on this side of the prison they called the airport..so, as I get Manav to try and swallow the pill using his own saliva (what?? You’ve had to do that sometime, haven’t you??!! Essential life skill, I say!), I see the hitherto stern- looking Tanzanian immigration officer turn around, walk out of his little glass cubicle and come back with a bottle of water, pours a glass for Manav and then proceeds to give it to him, with a big smile and essentially for me, a warm welcome to this endearing country!! As we’ve spent the last 8 days in mainland Tanzania, its people’s warmth is just so so endearing. Genuine, warm, effusive show of love, joy and care. 

The phrase Hakuna Matata (no problem, no worries ) is used unhesitatingly for all kinds of situations...only shadowed by the even more used Karibu...meaning, ‘you are welcome’. We quickly learned few other Swahili words and I must say, the children are much more adept  at remembering the words. 

The next few days were just a splendid journey into the wild. We traversed through multiple landscapes, highlands, plains, savanna, woodlands, coffee,  rice and banana plantations. We ate Ugali (porridge), and lots of arrowroot and taro/tapioca. Slurped on juicy mangoes and passion fruit. But most off all, we saw animals and birds- raw, unfiltered, unphotoshopped - thousand and thousands of them set against spectacular backdrops, white alkaline lakes, dried up river beds. Many migrating in throngs northwards in search of water, where crocodiles await in stealth silence in Grumeti and Mara Rivers. Others just living the resident life in the world’s largest intact caldera- Ngorongoro. Ngorongoro is easily one of my top 10 must-sees in the world. The kids kept count, but we saw upwards of 80 species of animals that we could identity and several more that we didn’t care to learn names of but simply marveled at their existence. 

We spent the 8 days at Tarangire, Lake Manyara, Serengeti and Ngorongoro. With a side trip to Oldupai Gorge and to a Masaai tribal village (Manyatta). 

Yes, we saw the big 5- Elephant, Cape Buffalo, lion, leopard and the black rhino. The lions being most common (we saw 47 of them) followed by elephants-matriarchal herds and solitary tuskers. You can imagine the kids’ squeal each time we saw a baby elephant within arm’s reach!! There were a ton of baby animals..I think our timing after the birthing period helped. 

We drove around for miles in search of the highly elusive leopard and rhino. We almost jumped out of our skin when we spotted (hehe) a leopard just dangling its legs from a tree about 20 feet away. Along with several other safari vehicles, we waited there patiently for it to move, but alas- this one was camera shy, perhaps or just didn’t appreciate the constant paparazzi:)) Our eyes were exhausted looking through our binoculars but not a move from this shaker of the Serengeti! 

There are only about 2000 black rhinos left in the world..some say about 32 of this critically endangered beast left in Ngorongoro...our guide, Papa Joseph said it is unlikely that we would see one. And Manav decided he could not wear his newly bought,’i went to Serengeti and saw the big 5 T-shirt )..he was even considering using a permanent marker and changing the 5 to 4:)) just then, we saw a Himalayan car rally of sorts ..scores of tan-colored, open roofed beasts of the safari- Toyota Land Cruisers race towards this one spot and lo and behold, not one but two rhinos, just standing around, basking in the sun. We spent an hour gawking at their glory, AND got a constant commentary from Manav on conservation efforts to save different animals around the world. It’s like he is possessed when he talks of animals and their habitat, ecology, and behavior. He gets genuinely misty-eyed when he talks of critically endangered species or those on the verge of extinction. His knowledge of species that are ‘data deficient ‘ is astounding- not sure where he picks up all this info. 

Manali is a sprouting photographer. She has the tenacity and enthusiasm to capture just the right image. She hung out of the top part of the safari multiple times, fearlessly till the male lion looked her straight in the eye..she was the self- assigned CTO for our trip. Her job included making sure all gadgets were charged etc each night. 

The children came up with other C-suite designations; CFBO (food and beverage Officer), and CEO (Chief Entertainment Officer). Somehow I was stuck with CCO (Chief Cleanup Officer!!)).

While the Big 5 surely earned their recognition among safari goers, its the wildebeest that I was most enthralled by- our guide, Papa Joseph told us the wildebeestee was made of spare left-over parts of other animals! Still to me, they were cute. Watching these animals in the wild, motivated me to learn more about them. That’s another aspect of travel that  I love....the insatiable search to learn more, understand more. I learnt that wildebeest and zebras tend to stick together during their migration because the wildebeest know where to find water and zebras have a strong memory to lead them there. 

We saw thousands of zebras (Manav insisted that some are black on white stripes and others are white in black stripes), thousands of Thompson’s and Grant’s gazelle. We saw ostriches doing a mating dance. We saw olive baboons (they can bring down a leopard!), baboon babies riding on their mana’s underbellies. We saw African black kites dive bomb, elands mating (this needed some explaining to the children), waddling warthogs, Egyptian geese, the large Kori bustards, water bucks that looked like they had a white toilet seat stuck to their buttocks, Sacred Ibis, yellow bull stork, lilac breasted rollers that resembled the color of one of Mummy’s saris , and southern ground hornbill, which the kids quickly pointed out that it was declared as one of the world’s ugliest birds. We saw mongooses and crocodiles and hippos soaking in hippo pools. 

We saw Masaai giraffes crossing the road, leisurely as twigas (giraffe in Swahili) do, munching on picturesque Acacia trees. My favorite, the ancient and wise-looking Baobab treees, watching in. 

We saw nature at its rawest. No fences, no caregivers, no mercy. An eagle mauling a smaller unrecognizable bird, headless and featherless, a pack of hyenas circling in on a herd of wildebeest, trying to get the weak one from the pack, and last but not the least, we saw a lioness having just hunted two zebras...it’s claws and mouth still dripping blood, panting heavily. She looked undeniably strong and potent yet seemed like she would not eat her Jill until the patriarchal ritual of the male eating first was completed. The anthropologist in me can not help but see all this against the light of human evolutionary behavior. 

At night, we slept in tents that were pitched in mobile safari camps, essentially make-do camps that were set up depending on where the animals were likely each season. Manav and Manali chatted up co-campers, while eating roasted corn under a starry nights. The teenage girls from Lucerne, Switzerland and their physicist dad, the four year old from Venice, Italy and the Masaai Ashkari (night guardsman) who shared his tricks at warding off wild animals if they came close to our tents. Hard to believe but we heard lions roar at night, as I clenched the kids close to my chest in comfort. Together, we made memories. 

The Serengeti serenaded us with it all- the soft and the strong. The savage and the scenic. 

Next blog- ‘Where we were all one- Olduvai Gorge.  When we were all one- The Masaai Tribe’.

Next stop- ZANZIBAR. Until then, Hakuna Matata, my friends! See you later, Crater! 

We crossed the line (literally)!

The last few days in Uganda, until we return in about 10 days was truly fascinating. 

One day, we went to the ‘see’ the equator. 

En route, we were introduced to the best and ubiquitous Ugandan street food- Rolleggs. At first I thought they were referring to some glittery watch brand. But it’s just a chapatti wrapped around a two-egg omelette.  It costed 1500 Ugandan shillings (40 US cents), and fed both my children a pretty healthy meal! I did save the pili-pili version for myself. Pili Pili turns out to be my first words in the Bantu language of Lugandan (principallly spoken in UG but also in other countries along Lake Victoria, I believe. Any guesses what pili-pili could mean? Chillies!!!

Speaking of languages, English is the lingua Franca of most people and is widely spoken along with 150 other tribal languages. 

Anyway, coming back to the line crossing...Manali and Mnav were pretty excited to go to the equator and be south of it. Although technically, they have been south when we traveled to Seychelles about 4 -5 years ago, this will be more memorable, I think. 

The ‘equator’ was just a pull-out on a 2-lane road. A few shops selling some excellent locally-made handicrafts, including wooden mortars, ‘I was here’ magnets, gorgeous Kenyan beaded jewelry that I went berserk on, and Congolese masks, which also I went berserk on!

This was a great place for children to learn about some science...magnetism, true north, and how weather is opposite in the two hemispheres, etc. 

We even had a local Smart Alec demonstate to the kids the Coriolis Effect- essentially the urban legend that the direction of the toilet water swirl you see is determined by the hemisphere you are in. 

While true, it’s not as conspicuous as our Smart Alec friend showed us using flower found nearby. It still was his way to make a quick buck and for my children to be wonder stuck and excited about science!

All in all, I’m happy to report that all things being equator, we did not end up In the doldrums!

Another couple of days were spent  to a charming little town called Jinja- the historic source of the mighty Nile River. I saw it last in Egypt almost 15 years ago when I spent time there working on my thesis. In Jinja, the Nile is much smaller and much wilder-looking. Tilapia fisherman in canoes, Weaver birds on its banks, and beautiful grass thatched roof round structures kept the kids and me enthralled. We spent a night camping on the banks of the river, being woken up with the most beautiful whistles of song birds...I even got the most picturesque spot for a massage! 

Until we meet soon, Uganda..you were such a wonderful surprise!! Thank you dear Sakina and family for your hospitality. The Bugunda crafts market...you...you..how could you make me spend all my money??!!

And we are off to our next leg of our journey- Tanzania!!!

Fauzia, La Princess, Adam, Rafia, Laalla, Adam, Owen, Wazwa and Kathu- RG Orphanage, Uganda. Wonderings of a lifetime.

Fauzia, La Princess, Adam, Rafia, Laalla, Adam, Owen, Wazwa and Kathu- RG Orphanage, Uganda. Wondering of a lifetime. 

Warning: long post. Names of children have been changed. 

When my children were born, I knew one thing. I really wanted them to have an attitude of gratitude. I really felt like service to another human is not just a kind  thing to do but the right thing to do. My Mummy and Papa taught me that by being so. They never preached to me about social service but really every action of theirs spoke that. They welcomed numerous people into our house when I was little- acquaintances of friends and friends of acquaintances who were new to the city of Bombay and needed a place to live. Some stayed with us for days, many for months and some for years. Papa even gave one of them a portion of his business when he retired. My parents welcomed children who ran away from their village homes and wanted to try making a life in the city. My Mummy worked tirelessly in Asia’s largest slum, Dharavi for years, going door to door encouraging mothers to immunize their children, encouraging them to eat green leafy vegetables and giving them instructions on how to keep their infants’ ears clean. Outside of work, she ran from pillar to post to find wheelchairs and crutches for children with polio. Papa would chat with little servant boys who did dishes in restaurants that we ate at on vacation in Mysore or Puri and next you know, he’s giving them the shirt on his back or a few extra rupees. Mummy would ask me to take chai and biscuits for the laborers who had toiled in the hot sun all day laying the gas pipeline near our home. She and I would sit and make the babies of the laborers smile while they sipped on the chai during a much needed break. 

Most of all, my parents never talked of these actions. They never blogged about it:) they never boasted about it. Mummy and Papa have probably put 7-9 children through school and sent some off to trades school after. All without a fuss. 

I was inspired by what I saw and learnt from Mummy and Papa. They were (and always will be) my heroes. 

Now it’s my turn- my kids, I hope, feel inspired by what Todd and I do for our less previledged friends, relatives and strangers. Since Manali’s first birthday, we’ve visited and shared toys, books, clothes at orphanages, homes and hospitals- so much so now the children have a place at home where they keep a pile of things to give the orphanage. Just in case:)

When we were planning a vacation in Africa, I reached out to few refugee centers and children’s homes. My friend had connections to a small orphanage in the outskirts of Kampala. 

We spent the last few days living and working at the orphanage. 38 children. Ages 0-18. Muslim children, catholic children. Little ones from South Sudan, some from who knows where. Two sets of cuddle-ble twins. About 8 months old. 

According to the social worker, some were dropped off there by the local police after finding them abandoned on the streets of Kampala. Some were dropped off by their own mom who was paralyzed after child birth. One little one infected by HIV. Each one alone and yet always together. Each one ticklish, giggly, and tantrum-ish. Like kids are.

I spent the night on a hard but sturdy bed, with 14 other little ones next to me, including my own. The bedsheets smelt faintly of urine. There was a blue plastic bucket that was placed in the middle of the room, if kids wanted to ‘go’ at night. The older ones in the room, meaning 8-10 year olds were in charge. They made sure blankets covered the itsy bitsy toes and that the giggling was shushed at lights off time. I lay there in the darkness with eyes wide shut. Wondering. Wondering a lot of things. How? How did we as humanity allow for little ones to be so alone? Why did we not support the unwed teen to bring a baby into this world with dignity and pride? What’s Kato and Wazwa’s favorite milkshake be, if they could ever taste one? Is La Princess still hungry? I was told she refused to eat the porridge they fed her..she’s from a part of Uganda where they drink tea for breakfast, not some yucky thick milky slush! So the 6 year old has been demanding black tea. Why did I not live up to my aspiration to adopt a child? How did me and mine get so lucky? Why did Mr. Rafiq return to Uganda after the Idi Amin era to start an orphanage, leaving behind a hedonistic lifestyle in London? What is the mosque next door think of this orphanage that welcomes children from all crawls? What did the macroeconomists finally decide about aid to Africa? Should I support this orphanage financially? Does it make a difference? Who will remember to give the one HIV positive child his medicine? Will they forget? Which one of these little ones will go on to develop the app that eradicates malaria? Will it be Laalla who will play soccer one day? ...her calves look so strong when she climbed that tree in a jiffy. What makes Manali have that deep empathy for other children that she, who is usually put off by the slightest weird texture, to use her dress to wipe little Imran’s runny nose and rub his cherubic face and cajole him to eat more? Will Manav ever understand the joy he brought to the little boy’s spirit when he made a choice to give Imran the only pair of slippers Manav had and was wearing? 

Not many answers. Just wondering. Because isn’t that what travel should make you do? 

We left the place, sobbing out of immense sadness and with immense gratitude for the Mamas and Papas who care for them day in and day out- some for very very little money. Some out of religious altruism. Some like the social worker who said, this is the exact job she wanted to do some day. We left with a hope in our hearts and a promise to live our lives with an attitude of gratitude. And for Manali to come back here as soon as possible!