Day 4/5: 5685m
11pm came very quickly - as expected. Debs and I had gone to sleep to the sound of our precious guide Ingwe speaking to Mark's video camera, 'No much pain, not much gain'. We had laughed at the time as Ingwe's mantra had all but become a thorn in our sides. He had progressed to saying quite regularly 'There is no pain. There is no mountain'.
I woke to the sound of our guides waking up my fellow team members. It was promising to me that I had woken in an attitude of optimism. The fear and despair of the day had somehow escaped me in the night. I was glad for this - I needed all the help I could get for this next leg.
I quickly threw on as many layers I could find only to find that when I left the tent I was on the verge of overheating. I decided to find a guide and seek their advice on my attire. I found one at the meeting tent. Unfortunately he did not speak much English so I simpply pointed to my outer layer and said 'one', unzipped that layer and pointed to the second layer and said 'two' and so on. The poor guy seemed to be quite confused about why I was apparently undressing in front of him. He cottoned on quickly and laughed, quickly informing me that I was wearing too many layers. I raced back to the tent and took off a layer on both the top and the bottom. Following this I raced back to the meeting tent to have hot tea and biscuits with the crew before we set off for the summit. As I entered the tent I was greeted with hysterical laughter from Debs. She gestured for me to turn around. I soon realised the source of her laughter - my silk sleeping bag liner was tucked into the back of my pants! Mortified I ran back to the tent to change. I didn't care that all this running was depleting me of energy - I was too embarrassed!
I arrived back into the meeting tent to the sound of Ingwe once again speaking his mantra. In the most authoritative voice that I could conjure up I decided to speak my mind, 'Ingwe Justus. If during this summit climb you are within earshot of me when you say 'There is no pain. There is no mountain' I shall promptly slap you. There is pain and there is a bloody mountain.' Ingwe looked at me surprised before joining the rest of us in laughter. I hoped he got the point.
We gathered to leave soon after. It was at this time that I had the cheesiest epiphany. Although I had not been able to contact anyone at home and although I felt that this next challenge would be one that in many ways I had to face alone, I realised that I was wearing clothing contributions from so many friends. It was though I were taking Jenny, Catherine, Rebecca, Justin, Fiona and others with me. The thought was an encouragement to me as we formed a line to be led into the night.
Headlamps on, tramping poles in hand and with an eerie silence covering the group we began what would be a long tramp up to the summit. We were surrounded in total darkness with only the occassional light from other trampers' headlamps disturbing the dark. I preoccupied my mind with our WV community visit a week previous. I knew this would keep my mind off what was in front of me. I thought of the following points:
1. Those in poverty are not in need of rescuing, they are in need of the provision of opportunities - choices. This truth hit home for me as we interacted with the many occupants of the Magugu community. I realised how dangerous it is to approach poverty from a patronising angle or a paternalistic approach. Those in the Magugu community are passionate about their traditions, their families, their futures. They are enormously resilient and well resourced with ideas regarding how their community can be improved.
2. The provision of safe water - such a fundamental right - should not be a right withheld from so many. Put simply, children should not be praying for safe water. It was overhelming how grateful the Magugu community were to our challenge team for making the inclusion of a shallow well a reality for their community. A shallow well would mean the reduction of water bourne disease, less traveling time to obtain safe water and of course of higher quality of life for many in the Magugu community.
These thoughts kept me preoccupied for the first section of our summit climb. I was pleasantly surprised to get to our first rest stop within what felt like a relatively short amount of time. We had all maintained an extremely slow pace and had kept our consistency of pace.
It was during the next section of climb that we once again began to feel the all consuming effects of high altitude. I slowed my pace further and looked up to see several of my team mates vomitting to the side of the track. The guides were fantastic - they were so quick to assign themselves to several of us at once. Debs, Cushla and I had the wonderful August watching closely over us. The importance of our guides on this section of climb could not be emphasised more. They had the very important job of monitoring all climbers for signs of altitude sickness (especially for any sign that such symptoms were getting worse) and for encouraging us to continue on despite every fibre in our beings screaming for us to turn back.
The temperature seemed to drop, the steepness seemed to increase and the length of time between rests seemed to elongate. My lungs were screaming for air and yet each breathe I took did little to address my need for oxygen. The next few hours were quite simply torture. My hands began to freeze despite being covered in several layers of gloves. Poor Debs experienced this affliction to a greater degree. She lost all feeling in her hands and spoke of feeling as though she may not be able to go on. Remembering our promise to each other - to encourage each other on should we become discouraged, I had her take her hands out of her gloves so I could rub them warm. It seemed to help a little, enough to continue on for a time. August was quite simply brilliant in his consistency of support. He made sure we were drinking enough water and not stopping for extended periods. He also took our day packs, making the climb just a little more bearable. He was our rock.
Hours past. It took every piece of stubborn determination that I could find to keep placing one foot in front of the next. It is safe to say that pride and stubborness played a pivotal role here! The halfway point to the summit had been passed some time before. It was as though this second section of climb was simply an elimination game - who would actually make it to the summit? It was an episode of Survivor gone horribly wrong.
August continued with his encouragement. Calling me 'Glory' and Debs 'Duck'. We did not have the heart or the inclination to correct him. He stepped up his insistance that we continue on, prodding us with his tramping pole. We were convinced that he was lying to us concerning how much further we had to go on however we would continue on regardless. Six long hours had passed. It was bitterly cold. We were running short of both mental and physical reserves to continue. I had resorted to speaking to myself in a rather bossy tone. I no longer needed sweet encouragement. I needed the stern, shout of my inner trainer demanding that I continue. The summit better be near.
It was about the time that I realised that I was now scrapping the bottom of the barrell that I heard screams coming from just over the large rocks we were climbing. The leaders of our team had reached Gilman's Point - the 5685m mark - the summit! At the realisation of being so close I began to cry. I immediately silenced my tears - I couldn't afford to begin to lose control now. Thrusting my body over the obstacles in front of me and pressing through the pain felt deep down in my lungs I set my goal at that point just over the rocks. Climbing over the last rock and falling upon the base of the Gilman's Pont sign I promptly began to sob - hard. I was hysterical. I could not even find the energy to look up at my fellow team mates - also quite hysterical. August came and wrapped his arms around me, 'You did it Glory. You did it!' I was overwhelmed with euphoria. My challenge team mates promptly began a round of elated hugs. Our team could not have felt more united. I could not believe that all but one of us had made it to this point. I could not believe that I had pressed through and was now at the summit. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins. August looked me in the eye and asked 'You want to go to Uhuru Point Glory?' Realising that this would mean ascending a further 300m I looked at him through streams of tears and nodded. Bring on Uhuru Point!
Friday, February 20, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Finding my ceiling
Day 4: 4700m
Today began with the abrupt realisation that we were most definitely moving into MUCH colder temperatures. It was incredibly cold as we scurried out of our tents for the meeting room tents for breakfast. We all had stories of avoiding toilet runs until it became an aboslute necessity during the bitterly cold night or of feeling like a total couch potato upon realising that one no longer could run for the first large rock - we simply did not have the lung capacities anymore. A funny moment happened first thing in the morning when I was putting on my hiking boots. Debs had been out of the tent and came into to me puffing as though I had run a marathon. She asked me if I were okay, I told her that I was fine and that I had just put my boots on. She nodded in complete understanding. How pathetic!
The big plus thus far was that I am so far not feeling any muscular pain. Considering the distances covered and the gradients we have endured I am really pleased with that. The lack of altitude sickness combined with the lack of pain worked in some way to counteract my concerns regarding how incredibly hard it was becoming to breathe while tramping.
There seemed to be a different vibe to the crew today. Many had not had the best sleep and several were quite concerned about their intensifying altitude sickness symptoms. Despite this I was so proud of the continued optimism of the group as we set out for our next destination - Kibo Hut. We had a 6km walk ahead of us that would gradually ascend from 4350m to 4700m. The beginning of the walk put us in fantastic spirits - we descended for some time which meant added energy levels, spontaneous song led by Ingwe (our beloved Jambo song) and scattered lively conversations throughout the group. The temporary descent was a positive for us - we were in need of a little pick-me-up.
Once again I found myself engaged in several conversations surrounding the issue of poverty. I was energised by the inquisitive natures of my team who continued to affirm that I was indeed travelling with people with hearts for the poor. I answered question after question about the work of World Vision, why we operate the way we do, how long-term sustainability transforms communities, the benefits of Fairtrade (a personal soap box of mine) and of course how rewarding it is to be engaged in a career with an organisation like World Vision. My favourite moment was when several of the sponsors that had visited their sponsored children the day of the Magugu visit spoke with unrivalled excitement about how visiting their sponsored children had profoundly affected them. My own personal building excitement for my pending sponsor visit was palpable! Others joined in, sharing how the visit to the World Vision community of Magugu had been their primary motivation for registering for the challenge. The overall conclusion shared? World Vision works and the money gets there. I was reminded again that seeing the work of World Vision first hand is unparalleled in its impact on a donor.
Just before approximately halfway into our tramp for the day we entered into what is commonly called the saddle of Kilimanjaro - the section of land between Mawenzi and Kibo peaks. By this stage we had ceased descending and had been journeying on flat land for some time. We were surrounded by a stark moonscape type setting, a fine dust covering the ground. It was a fascinating landscape to be transversing - especially for a space geek like me.
We soon came across the wreckage of a small six seater airplane. We were told that all but the pilot had perished. Examining the remains, one of the guides called Martin, made the off-hand remark 'Kili kills' and simply walked away. Hmmmm not quite what we needed to hear considering our ongoing concerns regarding the seriousness of altitude sickness!
It was not long after this that we began just the slightest incline. Immediately we felt the change and it was not long before our 'pole pole' (slowly slowly) pace became what can only be described as extreme pole. Within an hour of this incline I began to feel an accelerated version of the chest tightening I had felt previously. Each step was requiring more energy than I thought I could possibly conjure up. We all seemed to be travelling in slow motion. It would have been quite the spectacle to watch. Phil Bish, arguably the fittest of us all and someone who had experienced altitude before said that his legs felt like those of a giraffe. This would be the beginning of the slippery slope down for Phil. I began to become quite fearful at this point. My breathing was so laboured. I had been told that this was normal but to be honest that is not at all comforting when it seems that your lungs have reverted to those of newborns and are incapable of taking in the air that you need to survive. I was close to despair and was struggling to find the confidence to continue on to Kibo Hut - the hut that could be seen and which seemed so close and yet was taking hours to reach. Each step seemed to take a slice of my remaining energy, robbing me of the enthusiasm I knew I would need for the final ascent.
The night previous I had spent time in my tent trying to supress such fears, reminding myself of what Seamus had said days previous... Retain a slow pace, put one foot in front of the other and keep your desire to continue.
Talk between participants became non-existant as we entered the camp. We were shattered. Somehow 4700m seemed so much higher than the 4350m from the day previous. I gazed up at the final leg of the journey we were to take later that night. It looked foreboding, impossible, ominous, completely unlikely. How on Earth were we to climb over 1000m up an incredibly steep mountain side in -10 degree weather if ascending less than 400m over a slow gradient in the warmth of the day had been so difficult?
Dinner that night was eaten in relative silence. We all had our final, somewhat terrifying leg of our challenge on our minds. Sharyn's altitude sickness had intenstified. She was now visibly overtaken with the vicious, all consuming nature of altitude sickness. Phil looked dreadful however at this point it was not overly apparent how altitude sickness had begun to hook its claws into him. Despite knowing that AS is not influenced at all by age, fitness, previous climbing experienced or the sex of a person it still amazed me to see Sharyn and Phil so taken. They both were outdoor enthusiasts with enviable 'we can do it' attitudes. Not having either of their smiling, enthusiastic faces at the dinner table that night was a bit disconcerting.
In less than 5 hours we would be woken in the dead of the night to climb to Kili's summit. I was feeling vulnerable, so enormously vulnerable. I had tried to keep my concern over the thinness of the air to myself for the most part in an effort to remain positive and upbeat. Several participants commented on how lucky I was to have avoided the signs of AS that all but one other participant and myself had experienced. I agreed but couldn't help but feel that my struggle for breath would be just as much a limitation.
I asked around the group what people did when they reached their ceiling. My voice almost cracked as I asked this, sending home a message to me that I was in deeper than I realised. Everyone at the table shared what helped them to push through: positive affirmations, reminders of what those less fortunate had to bare on a day to day basis in comparison, knowledge of praying friends. I listened to each, hoping to find a tactic to sink my teeth into, a key to assisting me to overcome the somewhat inevitable exhaustation I would feel climbing to the summit. One of the participants made the remark that I must feel pressure to reach the summit being the World Vision representative. I simply nodded, knowing I could not think of anything to say to that. I knew my friends, family and coworkers would understand if I did not make the summit but I didn't know if I personally would give myself the grace to not make it.
We all went our separate ways back to our tents. It was almost 6pm. We were to be woken at 11pm in order to leave by midnight. We had been instructed to pack our bags now and to either wear or lay out our clothing for the final leg. I slipped into my tent and was greeted by an optimistic Debs who I could see was doing a great job at distracting herslf with the details of her pack. She chatted to me happily as she stuffed supplies into her pack, completely unaware that tears had begun to stream down my cheeks. I tried to speak and ended up crying harder. A shocked Debs prayed for me and calmly listened to my fear of not being able to make the summit. She made me laugh and gave me room to exhale. I knew that the fact that I had been unable to reach family or friends while on the mountain was feeding my vulnerability. I had hoped to have spoken to some of them today, to hear that wonderful encouragement that I knew would be available to me if I could just reach them. It was an enormously lonely feeling. I joked that perhaps I needed to listen to 'Eye of the tiger' - my personal theme song. I did just that. Feeling much calmer I slipped off to sleep as I decided within myself that I would give the summit my best shot and that whether or not I made it I would give my all in the process.
Today began with the abrupt realisation that we were most definitely moving into MUCH colder temperatures. It was incredibly cold as we scurried out of our tents for the meeting room tents for breakfast. We all had stories of avoiding toilet runs until it became an aboslute necessity during the bitterly cold night or of feeling like a total couch potato upon realising that one no longer could run for the first large rock - we simply did not have the lung capacities anymore. A funny moment happened first thing in the morning when I was putting on my hiking boots. Debs had been out of the tent and came into to me puffing as though I had run a marathon. She asked me if I were okay, I told her that I was fine and that I had just put my boots on. She nodded in complete understanding. How pathetic!
The big plus thus far was that I am so far not feeling any muscular pain. Considering the distances covered and the gradients we have endured I am really pleased with that. The lack of altitude sickness combined with the lack of pain worked in some way to counteract my concerns regarding how incredibly hard it was becoming to breathe while tramping.
There seemed to be a different vibe to the crew today. Many had not had the best sleep and several were quite concerned about their intensifying altitude sickness symptoms. Despite this I was so proud of the continued optimism of the group as we set out for our next destination - Kibo Hut. We had a 6km walk ahead of us that would gradually ascend from 4350m to 4700m. The beginning of the walk put us in fantastic spirits - we descended for some time which meant added energy levels, spontaneous song led by Ingwe (our beloved Jambo song) and scattered lively conversations throughout the group. The temporary descent was a positive for us - we were in need of a little pick-me-up.
Once again I found myself engaged in several conversations surrounding the issue of poverty. I was energised by the inquisitive natures of my team who continued to affirm that I was indeed travelling with people with hearts for the poor. I answered question after question about the work of World Vision, why we operate the way we do, how long-term sustainability transforms communities, the benefits of Fairtrade (a personal soap box of mine) and of course how rewarding it is to be engaged in a career with an organisation like World Vision. My favourite moment was when several of the sponsors that had visited their sponsored children the day of the Magugu visit spoke with unrivalled excitement about how visiting their sponsored children had profoundly affected them. My own personal building excitement for my pending sponsor visit was palpable! Others joined in, sharing how the visit to the World Vision community of Magugu had been their primary motivation for registering for the challenge. The overall conclusion shared? World Vision works and the money gets there. I was reminded again that seeing the work of World Vision first hand is unparalleled in its impact on a donor.
Just before approximately halfway into our tramp for the day we entered into what is commonly called the saddle of Kilimanjaro - the section of land between Mawenzi and Kibo peaks. By this stage we had ceased descending and had been journeying on flat land for some time. We were surrounded by a stark moonscape type setting, a fine dust covering the ground. It was a fascinating landscape to be transversing - especially for a space geek like me.
We soon came across the wreckage of a small six seater airplane. We were told that all but the pilot had perished. Examining the remains, one of the guides called Martin, made the off-hand remark 'Kili kills' and simply walked away. Hmmmm not quite what we needed to hear considering our ongoing concerns regarding the seriousness of altitude sickness!
It was not long after this that we began just the slightest incline. Immediately we felt the change and it was not long before our 'pole pole' (slowly slowly) pace became what can only be described as extreme pole. Within an hour of this incline I began to feel an accelerated version of the chest tightening I had felt previously. Each step was requiring more energy than I thought I could possibly conjure up. We all seemed to be travelling in slow motion. It would have been quite the spectacle to watch. Phil Bish, arguably the fittest of us all and someone who had experienced altitude before said that his legs felt like those of a giraffe. This would be the beginning of the slippery slope down for Phil. I began to become quite fearful at this point. My breathing was so laboured. I had been told that this was normal but to be honest that is not at all comforting when it seems that your lungs have reverted to those of newborns and are incapable of taking in the air that you need to survive. I was close to despair and was struggling to find the confidence to continue on to Kibo Hut - the hut that could be seen and which seemed so close and yet was taking hours to reach. Each step seemed to take a slice of my remaining energy, robbing me of the enthusiasm I knew I would need for the final ascent.
The night previous I had spent time in my tent trying to supress such fears, reminding myself of what Seamus had said days previous... Retain a slow pace, put one foot in front of the other and keep your desire to continue.
Talk between participants became non-existant as we entered the camp. We were shattered. Somehow 4700m seemed so much higher than the 4350m from the day previous. I gazed up at the final leg of the journey we were to take later that night. It looked foreboding, impossible, ominous, completely unlikely. How on Earth were we to climb over 1000m up an incredibly steep mountain side in -10 degree weather if ascending less than 400m over a slow gradient in the warmth of the day had been so difficult?
Dinner that night was eaten in relative silence. We all had our final, somewhat terrifying leg of our challenge on our minds. Sharyn's altitude sickness had intenstified. She was now visibly overtaken with the vicious, all consuming nature of altitude sickness. Phil looked dreadful however at this point it was not overly apparent how altitude sickness had begun to hook its claws into him. Despite knowing that AS is not influenced at all by age, fitness, previous climbing experienced or the sex of a person it still amazed me to see Sharyn and Phil so taken. They both were outdoor enthusiasts with enviable 'we can do it' attitudes. Not having either of their smiling, enthusiastic faces at the dinner table that night was a bit disconcerting.
In less than 5 hours we would be woken in the dead of the night to climb to Kili's summit. I was feeling vulnerable, so enormously vulnerable. I had tried to keep my concern over the thinness of the air to myself for the most part in an effort to remain positive and upbeat. Several participants commented on how lucky I was to have avoided the signs of AS that all but one other participant and myself had experienced. I agreed but couldn't help but feel that my struggle for breath would be just as much a limitation.
I asked around the group what people did when they reached their ceiling. My voice almost cracked as I asked this, sending home a message to me that I was in deeper than I realised. Everyone at the table shared what helped them to push through: positive affirmations, reminders of what those less fortunate had to bare on a day to day basis in comparison, knowledge of praying friends. I listened to each, hoping to find a tactic to sink my teeth into, a key to assisting me to overcome the somewhat inevitable exhaustation I would feel climbing to the summit. One of the participants made the remark that I must feel pressure to reach the summit being the World Vision representative. I simply nodded, knowing I could not think of anything to say to that. I knew my friends, family and coworkers would understand if I did not make the summit but I didn't know if I personally would give myself the grace to not make it.
We all went our separate ways back to our tents. It was almost 6pm. We were to be woken at 11pm in order to leave by midnight. We had been instructed to pack our bags now and to either wear or lay out our clothing for the final leg. I slipped into my tent and was greeted by an optimistic Debs who I could see was doing a great job at distracting herslf with the details of her pack. She chatted to me happily as she stuffed supplies into her pack, completely unaware that tears had begun to stream down my cheeks. I tried to speak and ended up crying harder. A shocked Debs prayed for me and calmly listened to my fear of not being able to make the summit. She made me laugh and gave me room to exhale. I knew that the fact that I had been unable to reach family or friends while on the mountain was feeding my vulnerability. I had hoped to have spoken to some of them today, to hear that wonderful encouragement that I knew would be available to me if I could just reach them. It was an enormously lonely feeling. I joked that perhaps I needed to listen to 'Eye of the tiger' - my personal theme song. I did just that. Feeling much calmer I slipped off to sleep as I decided within myself that I would give the summit my best shot and that whether or not I made it I would give my all in the process.
The loo with a view ...
Day 3: Altitude 4350m
Today was such a memorable day. We embarked on a shorter climb than the day previous, although it was most definitely a steeper incline than the day previous. We were considerably slower today with several of us adding a third pole to 'pole pole'. We are all acutely aware of the need to slow our pace to increase chances of summitting. It is at times hard to go so slow and at times quite comfortable - breathing is afterall becoming increasingly more and more difficult. Frequent water, museli bar and chocolate stops seem to give us a renewed enthusiasm.
What I loved about today were the stunning landscapes we were exposed to. We were just plain spoiled really. We made our way along tracks that traced the side of several ridge lines, exposing us to views of both Kenya and Tanzania. Breathtaking. It is thrilling to know that we are experiencing just the beginning of such scenic shots.
As a team I am loving the interactions that are taking place. There are several in the group that seem to keep us entertained with constant laughes and frequent comic relief moments. It has also become apparent who the camp mothers are - those that race to your side when you are in need of medication, extra water or a reminder that climbing the mountain was indeed a very good idea. Overall morale runs high. It certainly helps that we are all constantly on the alert for one another, ready to disperse encouragement where necessary. As a group of such varied personalities and diverse professions we are remarkably united in this challenge. Meal times have become my favourite time of the day. These are the times where banter takes place over delicious concoctions made at the hands of our adored cook Thomas. We are all essentially becoming more and more united over this shared experience. The fact that we are all beginning to look rather shabby certainly aids in such unification. It is becoming increasingly more and more hysterical how little we care for how we look or what information we share with those that were until very recently complete strangers.
During our climb today we were treated to Phil Bish giving us a rundown of what each of our nicknames were and why. Apparently mine is 'Trelise Cooper'due to my eclectic tramping atire style. I am certainly one to drool over in my striped thermals, red beanie with extended hat that runs down my back and my loud Billabong sweater. Hey, it is a matter of practicality! Jo and Julie are called the Topp twins as they are just simply hysterical when together. They collectively have great senses of humour and have us in stitches throughout each day. There is nothing quite as refreshing as someone with a wickedly funny dry sense of humour.
We completed our climb today within a few hours and upon climbing over the last ridge for the day we were absolutely stunned to see that our next campsite was situated next to the indesribeably beautiful Mawenzi Tarn (the smaller of the two Kili peaks), with view of the Mawenzi Northern Ampitheatre. We were literally nestled right in next to the mountain side, snow capped peaks framing our view. You could not have wished for a more picturesque location.
The air is most definitely thinner up here. So much so that simple maneouvours such as rolling over in a sleeping bag or embarking on a late night toilet run is enough to enduce panting. It is also considerably colder with temperatures dropping as the sun moves out of view. A funny plus to this campsite is one of the long drops. Until now I have avoided long drops however this particular long drop has no door and instead is facing the edge of the ridge line, overlooking the spectular valley far below. It is our loo with a view! I have used it several times and still cannot get over the novelty. The smell and extreme cold experienced are negated by the view. In fact some believe this loo to have the advantage of continual air flow thus lessening the near-pass out induing qualities of the long drop. It wasn't long before I heard Jo's scream of excitement at her success in having a bowel movement. I was envious to say the least. I mean talk about one extreme to the other. There are now still two of us that are wishing for such an occurance. How humbling it is when one begins to pray for such basic needs.
At this point in the challenge I can report that most participants are struggling, even if just slightly, with headaches and/or some degree of nausea. I am still enormously lucky to have not been affected at all in this way. One participant in particular is struggling considerably with these symptoms. Poor Marilyn has been found throwing up outside her tent for the last couple of hours. She remains steadfastly determined to get through this and I am hoping that she will indeed pull through. She is one tough cookie and I admire that in her. She is one of the oldest on this challenge and without a doubt the one that is probably most likely to be able to pull upon her reserves of resilience to get to the top of the giant Kili. She has the enormously attentive and sweet guides keeping a close eye on her. The guides may appear to be ultra relaxed and even aloof however that is most certainly not the case. They are watching us like hawkes, monitoring fluid intake and altitude related symptoms.
Other than the altitude sickness related symptoms all participants are in considerably good health. Sharyn quite accurately pointed out that our wonderful support crew can be credited with this as they have clearly been cautious in their preparation of our meals and with the water they have supplied us each day. It has been fantastic to not have to worry about adding water purification tablets to our water each day - eek.
I had quite the embarrassing experience occur at dinner tonight. Well it was no secret that both Sharyn and I have been patiently waiting for our digestive systems to adjust to normal... Well during a briefing just after dinner I had that familiar tummy rumbling that signaled that I had just minutes to exit the tent and reach the loo with a view. I waited for Ingwe to finish his briefing only to realise that my time was indeed limited. My tentmate saw the look on my face along with my tight grip across my stomach and promptly moved aside. Unfortuntely I was seated on the far side of the very cosy meeting tent and had to effectively knock into six people in order to get out - quick. Everyone quickly clued into what was happening and screamed encouragement as I raced the short distance to my tent (and thus my toilet paper) and then to the long drop. I prayed to God that I would not trip as I am prone to doing. Well upon my return I had a tent full of faces watching for my reaction. I smiled, bowed and was of course covered in cheers. Embarrassing.
Sleep update: terrible. It is not easy to get a good night's sleep on the mountain. The cold air, rocky ground (c'mon bed roll, work your magic damn it!), the diuretic side effects associated with Diamox (our altitude sickness prevention drug) and thin air make uninterrupted sleep a luxury.
Funny side note: everyone on the team is convinced that my bag is extroadinarily heavy as my porter is always last into camp - sometimes barely reaching the camp before us. Truth be told he is the oldest porter who has been climbing Kili for 30 years! He is a skinny man with a face that tells a thousand tales. I feel terrible for making him carry my backpack when I see how hard he struggles to keep up with the other porters so have resorted to slowly gifting him with my Mars Bar collection!
Superficial note: the dry shampoo is no longer effective.
Today was such a memorable day. We embarked on a shorter climb than the day previous, although it was most definitely a steeper incline than the day previous. We were considerably slower today with several of us adding a third pole to 'pole pole'. We are all acutely aware of the need to slow our pace to increase chances of summitting. It is at times hard to go so slow and at times quite comfortable - breathing is afterall becoming increasingly more and more difficult. Frequent water, museli bar and chocolate stops seem to give us a renewed enthusiasm.
What I loved about today were the stunning landscapes we were exposed to. We were just plain spoiled really. We made our way along tracks that traced the side of several ridge lines, exposing us to views of both Kenya and Tanzania. Breathtaking. It is thrilling to know that we are experiencing just the beginning of such scenic shots.
As a team I am loving the interactions that are taking place. There are several in the group that seem to keep us entertained with constant laughes and frequent comic relief moments. It has also become apparent who the camp mothers are - those that race to your side when you are in need of medication, extra water or a reminder that climbing the mountain was indeed a very good idea. Overall morale runs high. It certainly helps that we are all constantly on the alert for one another, ready to disperse encouragement where necessary. As a group of such varied personalities and diverse professions we are remarkably united in this challenge. Meal times have become my favourite time of the day. These are the times where banter takes place over delicious concoctions made at the hands of our adored cook Thomas. We are all essentially becoming more and more united over this shared experience. The fact that we are all beginning to look rather shabby certainly aids in such unification. It is becoming increasingly more and more hysterical how little we care for how we look or what information we share with those that were until very recently complete strangers.
During our climb today we were treated to Phil Bish giving us a rundown of what each of our nicknames were and why. Apparently mine is 'Trelise Cooper'due to my eclectic tramping atire style. I am certainly one to drool over in my striped thermals, red beanie with extended hat that runs down my back and my loud Billabong sweater. Hey, it is a matter of practicality! Jo and Julie are called the Topp twins as they are just simply hysterical when together. They collectively have great senses of humour and have us in stitches throughout each day. There is nothing quite as refreshing as someone with a wickedly funny dry sense of humour.
We completed our climb today within a few hours and upon climbing over the last ridge for the day we were absolutely stunned to see that our next campsite was situated next to the indesribeably beautiful Mawenzi Tarn (the smaller of the two Kili peaks), with view of the Mawenzi Northern Ampitheatre. We were literally nestled right in next to the mountain side, snow capped peaks framing our view. You could not have wished for a more picturesque location.
The air is most definitely thinner up here. So much so that simple maneouvours such as rolling over in a sleeping bag or embarking on a late night toilet run is enough to enduce panting. It is also considerably colder with temperatures dropping as the sun moves out of view. A funny plus to this campsite is one of the long drops. Until now I have avoided long drops however this particular long drop has no door and instead is facing the edge of the ridge line, overlooking the spectular valley far below. It is our loo with a view! I have used it several times and still cannot get over the novelty. The smell and extreme cold experienced are negated by the view. In fact some believe this loo to have the advantage of continual air flow thus lessening the near-pass out induing qualities of the long drop. It wasn't long before I heard Jo's scream of excitement at her success in having a bowel movement. I was envious to say the least. I mean talk about one extreme to the other. There are now still two of us that are wishing for such an occurance. How humbling it is when one begins to pray for such basic needs.
At this point in the challenge I can report that most participants are struggling, even if just slightly, with headaches and/or some degree of nausea. I am still enormously lucky to have not been affected at all in this way. One participant in particular is struggling considerably with these symptoms. Poor Marilyn has been found throwing up outside her tent for the last couple of hours. She remains steadfastly determined to get through this and I am hoping that she will indeed pull through. She is one tough cookie and I admire that in her. She is one of the oldest on this challenge and without a doubt the one that is probably most likely to be able to pull upon her reserves of resilience to get to the top of the giant Kili. She has the enormously attentive and sweet guides keeping a close eye on her. The guides may appear to be ultra relaxed and even aloof however that is most certainly not the case. They are watching us like hawkes, monitoring fluid intake and altitude related symptoms.
Other than the altitude sickness related symptoms all participants are in considerably good health. Sharyn quite accurately pointed out that our wonderful support crew can be credited with this as they have clearly been cautious in their preparation of our meals and with the water they have supplied us each day. It has been fantastic to not have to worry about adding water purification tablets to our water each day - eek.
I had quite the embarrassing experience occur at dinner tonight. Well it was no secret that both Sharyn and I have been patiently waiting for our digestive systems to adjust to normal... Well during a briefing just after dinner I had that familiar tummy rumbling that signaled that I had just minutes to exit the tent and reach the loo with a view. I waited for Ingwe to finish his briefing only to realise that my time was indeed limited. My tentmate saw the look on my face along with my tight grip across my stomach and promptly moved aside. Unfortuntely I was seated on the far side of the very cosy meeting tent and had to effectively knock into six people in order to get out - quick. Everyone quickly clued into what was happening and screamed encouragement as I raced the short distance to my tent (and thus my toilet paper) and then to the long drop. I prayed to God that I would not trip as I am prone to doing. Well upon my return I had a tent full of faces watching for my reaction. I smiled, bowed and was of course covered in cheers. Embarrassing.
Sleep update: terrible. It is not easy to get a good night's sleep on the mountain. The cold air, rocky ground (c'mon bed roll, work your magic damn it!), the diuretic side effects associated with Diamox (our altitude sickness prevention drug) and thin air make uninterrupted sleep a luxury.
Funny side note: everyone on the team is convinced that my bag is extroadinarily heavy as my porter is always last into camp - sometimes barely reaching the camp before us. Truth be told he is the oldest porter who has been climbing Kili for 30 years! He is a skinny man with a face that tells a thousand tales. I feel terrible for making him carry my backpack when I see how hard he struggles to keep up with the other porters so have resorted to slowly gifting him with my Mars Bar collection!
Superficial note: the dry shampoo is no longer effective.
Unrelenting indeed...
Day 2: 3600m
Day two began with the darling Martin poking his smiling face into each of our tents, offering the most cheerful 'good morning' I had ever heard and then supplying each of us with hot tea. Like I said, this was certainly my style of camping! Following this we all began what would become our daily ritual of negotiating space in our tiny tents while trying to change clothes, roll up our bed rolls and sleeping bags, pack our day packs and repack our backpacks. All this would need to be done within about a half an hour period. This particular morning was of course consumed with conversation regarding our near death experience with a buffalo (humour us please). We all then piled into one of two large meeting room sized tents for a hearty breakfast before setting out for what Seamus had warned would be an únrelenting climb'! Besides the slight chill in the morning all seemed to be somewhat normal really. We were still at a relatively low altitude although that would soon change.
For the majority of the day we experienced what was essentially a consistently uphill climb although the steepness was not quite as daunting as Seamus had warned. We meandered our way through low level bush stopping to ensure participants were consuming enough water and allowing for the inevitable 'bush toilet' break. It was around the half way mark of this day's tramp that I began to feel the first signs of my body's reaction to a higher altitude. I began to notice a twinge of tightening across my chest. My breathing became slightly more laboured and after awhile I noticed that the únrelenting' part of únrelenting uphill' was starting to take its toll on us. We quite our spirits high with scattered conversations taking place regarding World Vision, families, bowel movements and the odd kind hearted ribbing (you know, just your usual conversation topics)
We are arrived in to our next camp site once again amazed at the efficiency of our porters and guides. How on Earth they had the time and energy to construct a campsite and cook as dinner after carrying the loads they had was beyond me. We all snuck into our respective tents for a chance to engage in a wet wipe bath, change of clothes and foot inspection. Oh and I was still basking in the success of my 'shampoo in a can' at this stage so I happily wore my hair out of a cap when possible.
Along with several team mates I had gotten away with wearing sneakers for the second day running. For me this was a God sent as I am quite prone to painful ankle blisters. There is nothing like a blister which can effectively ruin a tramping excursion. Unfortunately what I did find when changing in my tent was a strange rash from my calf up to just beyond my knee (the wonderul challenge nurse, Tanya Bish, thought it may be due to the interactions between my many 'mountain' medications) and some significant sunburn across my neck and arms. It seems that the African sun is incredibly powerful!
By dinner it seemed that many of my fellow participants had headaches - a common side effect of being at high altitude. I hoped that I could somewhow avoid such effects but assumed that it was simply a matter of time before headaches or nausea came knocking. After dinner we all slipped off to bed at the respectable hour of 7pm! A days worth of uphill climb combined with higher altitude meant for a tired bunch of trekkers. Debs and I both had a horrible nights sleep. Our tent had been erected on rocks and our sunburns provided regular wake-up moments throughout the night. This was quite the day!
Superficial note/s: cankles have disappeared, two days and counting since a bowel movement.
Day two began with the darling Martin poking his smiling face into each of our tents, offering the most cheerful 'good morning' I had ever heard and then supplying each of us with hot tea. Like I said, this was certainly my style of camping! Following this we all began what would become our daily ritual of negotiating space in our tiny tents while trying to change clothes, roll up our bed rolls and sleeping bags, pack our day packs and repack our backpacks. All this would need to be done within about a half an hour period. This particular morning was of course consumed with conversation regarding our near death experience with a buffalo (humour us please). We all then piled into one of two large meeting room sized tents for a hearty breakfast before setting out for what Seamus had warned would be an únrelenting climb'! Besides the slight chill in the morning all seemed to be somewhat normal really. We were still at a relatively low altitude although that would soon change.
For the majority of the day we experienced what was essentially a consistently uphill climb although the steepness was not quite as daunting as Seamus had warned. We meandered our way through low level bush stopping to ensure participants were consuming enough water and allowing for the inevitable 'bush toilet' break. It was around the half way mark of this day's tramp that I began to feel the first signs of my body's reaction to a higher altitude. I began to notice a twinge of tightening across my chest. My breathing became slightly more laboured and after awhile I noticed that the únrelenting' part of únrelenting uphill' was starting to take its toll on us. We quite our spirits high with scattered conversations taking place regarding World Vision, families, bowel movements and the odd kind hearted ribbing (you know, just your usual conversation topics)
We are arrived in to our next camp site once again amazed at the efficiency of our porters and guides. How on Earth they had the time and energy to construct a campsite and cook as dinner after carrying the loads they had was beyond me. We all snuck into our respective tents for a chance to engage in a wet wipe bath, change of clothes and foot inspection. Oh and I was still basking in the success of my 'shampoo in a can' at this stage so I happily wore my hair out of a cap when possible.
Along with several team mates I had gotten away with wearing sneakers for the second day running. For me this was a God sent as I am quite prone to painful ankle blisters. There is nothing like a blister which can effectively ruin a tramping excursion. Unfortunately what I did find when changing in my tent was a strange rash from my calf up to just beyond my knee (the wonderul challenge nurse, Tanya Bish, thought it may be due to the interactions between my many 'mountain' medications) and some significant sunburn across my neck and arms. It seems that the African sun is incredibly powerful!
By dinner it seemed that many of my fellow participants had headaches - a common side effect of being at high altitude. I hoped that I could somewhow avoid such effects but assumed that it was simply a matter of time before headaches or nausea came knocking. After dinner we all slipped off to bed at the respectable hour of 7pm! A days worth of uphill climb combined with higher altitude meant for a tired bunch of trekkers. Debs and I both had a horrible nights sleep. Our tent had been erected on rocks and our sunburns provided regular wake-up moments throughout the night. This was quite the day!
Superficial note/s: cankles have disappeared, two days and counting since a bowel movement.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
And so our relationship with the giant Kili began...
Okay so here I sit in an internet cafe in Arusha, Tanzania, just hours after saying good-bye to the rest of my fabulous 'Conquer Kili team' and just one day after having returned from what is simply one of the most memorable experiences of my life to date. Unbelieveable.
I was unable to update the blog while on the mountain (hmm no surprises there!) so what I did was write notes each day and now I will attempt to get the blog updated and complete within the next day or so (hmmm talk about a challenge!).
So here goes...
Day 1 of the Kilimanjaro climb
Today started with the 17 of us dragging our 15kg or less backpacks and our much smaller day packs into the main courtyard of the Marangu Hotel. We stood around with anxious anticipation, waiting for our bags to be weighed (they could not weigh more than 15kg as they were to be carried on the heads of our wonderful porters). On the opposite side of the courtyard stood a large group of porters and guides looking every bit as anxious as we did. Within an hour or so each of us were asked to locate our backpacks and introduce ourselves to the gentleman who was standing with our pack. He would be the porter that would be assigned to us throughout the Kili climb. My porter, Thomas, it turns out had been a porter for over 30 years. He spoke barely any English and seemed to find any attempt at all on my part to communicate absolutely hilarious.
We grabbed our packed lunches and crammed into the large Mercedes bus. The next hour or so would involve driving down a rather bumpy road to the entrance of the Rongai route. Squeeky clean and buzzing with the realisation that our anticipated Kili climb was about to begin we chowed down on our lunches, applied liberal amounts of sunscreen (speaking of such ... Sharyn did your clothes survive that rather thorough assault of sunscreen smothering??) and filed onto the beginning of the Rongai route. We were about to climb the magnificant Mt Kilimanjaro!
It is important to note that from the beginning of the challenge we had had drilled into us the importance of going 'pole pole' (translated from Kiswahili to English: slowly, slowly). The purpose of this of course being to somehow minimise the effects of altitude sickness. Altitude sickness was of course our biggest threat and something that would remain a point of concern for us all as we made our way into higher and higher altitudes. We knew that age, fitness and previous climbing experience were not factors that decreased the likelihood of getting altitude sickness. It was simply, the luck of the draw.
Passing by lush farmland, and moving into beautifully green rainforest reminiscent of the Pirongia's in New Zealand we completed our first leg of the Kili climb. Our porters had raced past us complete with our packs, camping equipment and a miriad of supplies packed onto their bodies, fairly early on into the climb. I had a feeling this would be quite the point of embarrasment throughout the climb. Arriving to our first campsite we all took the time to familiarise ourselves with our new living arrangments. It became clear that our dutiful guides were going to make this experience one to remember. Promptly upon arrival at our site we were given warm water to wash with along with a hot cup of tea. This camping thing didn't seem so hard! Our tents had been arranged prior to our arrival and our next meal was already in the works. Nice!
The one reality check that would remain with me throughout the Kili climb was most certainly that long drops are to be avoided and 'bush toilets' were to be embraced! In fact on that point, Jo Ward asked me to mention in this blog that she had 'success down the hole'. The key to a successful bush toilet experience we found was to find a bush sufficiently close to one's tent to avoid prolonged exposure to the elements at night and yet far enough away to preserve provacy.
We all hit the sack relatively early that night. The knowledge of the next days únrelenting uphill climb was certainly front of mind. True to form, I slept like a rock, despite this being my first night in a tent in what was already quite cold weather AND despite the fact that a buffalo entered our camp and ate grass for an extended period next to our tent. My poor, petrified tent-mate, Deborah, lay in silence as this occurred, convinced that the buffalo must just knock out a tent peg and cause attention to be drawn to our vulnerable bodies laying just metres away. Sharyn and Hannah were on a bush toilet excursion at the time when they heard the buffalo and scurried into their tent. I was quite miffed to have missed the excitement!
Our second day on Kili to come...
I was unable to update the blog while on the mountain (hmm no surprises there!) so what I did was write notes each day and now I will attempt to get the blog updated and complete within the next day or so (hmmm talk about a challenge!).
So here goes...
Day 1 of the Kilimanjaro climb
Today started with the 17 of us dragging our 15kg or less backpacks and our much smaller day packs into the main courtyard of the Marangu Hotel. We stood around with anxious anticipation, waiting for our bags to be weighed (they could not weigh more than 15kg as they were to be carried on the heads of our wonderful porters). On the opposite side of the courtyard stood a large group of porters and guides looking every bit as anxious as we did. Within an hour or so each of us were asked to locate our backpacks and introduce ourselves to the gentleman who was standing with our pack. He would be the porter that would be assigned to us throughout the Kili climb. My porter, Thomas, it turns out had been a porter for over 30 years. He spoke barely any English and seemed to find any attempt at all on my part to communicate absolutely hilarious.
We grabbed our packed lunches and crammed into the large Mercedes bus. The next hour or so would involve driving down a rather bumpy road to the entrance of the Rongai route. Squeeky clean and buzzing with the realisation that our anticipated Kili climb was about to begin we chowed down on our lunches, applied liberal amounts of sunscreen (speaking of such ... Sharyn did your clothes survive that rather thorough assault of sunscreen smothering??) and filed onto the beginning of the Rongai route. We were about to climb the magnificant Mt Kilimanjaro!
It is important to note that from the beginning of the challenge we had had drilled into us the importance of going 'pole pole' (translated from Kiswahili to English: slowly, slowly). The purpose of this of course being to somehow minimise the effects of altitude sickness. Altitude sickness was of course our biggest threat and something that would remain a point of concern for us all as we made our way into higher and higher altitudes. We knew that age, fitness and previous climbing experience were not factors that decreased the likelihood of getting altitude sickness. It was simply, the luck of the draw.
Passing by lush farmland, and moving into beautifully green rainforest reminiscent of the Pirongia's in New Zealand we completed our first leg of the Kili climb. Our porters had raced past us complete with our packs, camping equipment and a miriad of supplies packed onto their bodies, fairly early on into the climb. I had a feeling this would be quite the point of embarrasment throughout the climb. Arriving to our first campsite we all took the time to familiarise ourselves with our new living arrangments. It became clear that our dutiful guides were going to make this experience one to remember. Promptly upon arrival at our site we were given warm water to wash with along with a hot cup of tea. This camping thing didn't seem so hard! Our tents had been arranged prior to our arrival and our next meal was already in the works. Nice!
The one reality check that would remain with me throughout the Kili climb was most certainly that long drops are to be avoided and 'bush toilets' were to be embraced! In fact on that point, Jo Ward asked me to mention in this blog that she had 'success down the hole'. The key to a successful bush toilet experience we found was to find a bush sufficiently close to one's tent to avoid prolonged exposure to the elements at night and yet far enough away to preserve provacy.
We all hit the sack relatively early that night. The knowledge of the next days únrelenting uphill climb was certainly front of mind. True to form, I slept like a rock, despite this being my first night in a tent in what was already quite cold weather AND despite the fact that a buffalo entered our camp and ate grass for an extended period next to our tent. My poor, petrified tent-mate, Deborah, lay in silence as this occurred, convinced that the buffalo must just knock out a tent peg and cause attention to be drawn to our vulnerable bodies laying just metres away. Sharyn and Hannah were on a bush toilet excursion at the time when they heard the buffalo and scurried into their tent. I was quite miffed to have missed the excitement!
Our second day on Kili to come...
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
'The day before' ...
It was total bliss for the many who slept in this morning. I didn't. My mum called me at 6.30am (sorry for pressing ignore mum) and then our travel agent from Intrepid called soon after. Ah, that was a little let down for my anticipated big sleep in. I met up with my fellow travelers in the main resaturant for breakfast. Everyone seemed to flash me refreshed and relaxed smiles. A full night's sleep had gone down well! It is funny to think that the reality of our climb was still at this point somewhat stashed to the back of our minds. Ingwe became notorious for his mantra of 'It is not a mountain ahead of us. No pain, no gain. We are strong. We are a big happy family'. The reality check would come later that night.
Soon after breakfast we were all instructed to go to our rooms and lay out the contents of the backpacks we intended to take up the mountain. We were then each visited by a quiet but rather stern faced woman by the name of Dolly who along with another young girl would examine the contents of our bags according to her checklist. She would question the appropriateness of various items and would note any additional items needed (e.g. sleeping bag, bed roll, walking sticks). Having passed her inspection and seeing Dolly's face break out into a smile I was quite relieved. It seemed I was ready.
My room-mate, the lovely Deborah Allen, and I decided a quick souvenir shop visit was in order. Much to our delight the onsight shop had competitive prices and a gorgeous range of unique items native to Tanzania. We spent approximately half an hour indulging in a little retail therapy (mum and Gaz, I have you covered) before joining the rest for lunch. We all had ordered our lunches earlier in the day so once we arrived into the restraurant we were promptly served with our lasagne, chicken and chips and macaroni cheese (you know, local cuisine). The lowlight of my day began at approximately five minutes after the completion of our meals. I felt a familiar twinge of pain in my stomach. Could it be? Noooo, surely not! Before long this twinge became a very real stomach cramp and I was hightailing to my room. After several bathroom visits and of course the usual dramatic thought of 'God jusy take me now!' (I blame my time in America) I was feeling much relieved. I am inclined to think that this bought may have been due to a delayed reaction to yesterday's meal although it is hard to tell. One of the participants, Lizzie Goddard had experienced a similar situation so we were sure to swap notes later and devise our own conclusions about the culprit. Once again, toilet talk seems all too natural in this setting. Lovely.
The afternoon was filled with utter relaxation. Philip Cunningham, suggested quite convincingly to many participants that they all go on a nearby nature walk. They did so and were greeted with a short but challenging walk accompanied by a swim in a local water hole. Deborah and I decided to read books and take naps since we may be deprived of such luxuries soon!
At 5.30pm we gathered for a briefing talk by a gentleman by the name of Seamus. Seamus was a lovely man with a gentle disposition who despite sounding and looking quite English, had been born and raised in Tanzania. His mother had been one of the founding partners of the gorgeous Marangu hotel. Seamus took us through what was to come, day by day, detail by detail. He effectively drilled home the realities of the mountain and laboured the point of going slowly. He even demonstrated how slow we should go. He seemed to walk so slowly in this demonstration that I thought he may just topple over sideways! Point taken. We showered Seamus with questions especially regarding altitude sickness, which he stressed will be a major consideration on the mountain (thus the recommendation to go slow) and the intensity of the steep inclines. Seamus was simply brilliant at allaying fears and instilling both wisdom and confidence. We had a reality check regarding what was to come and yet at the same time we were encouraged by his assurance that should be take Kili seriously we may just make the summit. A funny moment came when Julie asked Seamus if it were true what people say about the route we were taking, that is was one of the easier routes. Deborah and I exchanged looks of equal concern when Seamus almost choked on this spit at this question. Okay, so Lonely Planet has a lot to answer for.
Needless to say, our heads were swimming as we tried to sleep that night. Excited trepidation may be an apt description! The next day would come soon enough...
Superficial note continued ... I still have cankles.
Soon after breakfast we were all instructed to go to our rooms and lay out the contents of the backpacks we intended to take up the mountain. We were then each visited by a quiet but rather stern faced woman by the name of Dolly who along with another young girl would examine the contents of our bags according to her checklist. She would question the appropriateness of various items and would note any additional items needed (e.g. sleeping bag, bed roll, walking sticks). Having passed her inspection and seeing Dolly's face break out into a smile I was quite relieved. It seemed I was ready.
My room-mate, the lovely Deborah Allen, and I decided a quick souvenir shop visit was in order. Much to our delight the onsight shop had competitive prices and a gorgeous range of unique items native to Tanzania. We spent approximately half an hour indulging in a little retail therapy (mum and Gaz, I have you covered) before joining the rest for lunch. We all had ordered our lunches earlier in the day so once we arrived into the restraurant we were promptly served with our lasagne, chicken and chips and macaroni cheese (you know, local cuisine). The lowlight of my day began at approximately five minutes after the completion of our meals. I felt a familiar twinge of pain in my stomach. Could it be? Noooo, surely not! Before long this twinge became a very real stomach cramp and I was hightailing to my room. After several bathroom visits and of course the usual dramatic thought of 'God jusy take me now!' (I blame my time in America) I was feeling much relieved. I am inclined to think that this bought may have been due to a delayed reaction to yesterday's meal although it is hard to tell. One of the participants, Lizzie Goddard had experienced a similar situation so we were sure to swap notes later and devise our own conclusions about the culprit. Once again, toilet talk seems all too natural in this setting. Lovely.
The afternoon was filled with utter relaxation. Philip Cunningham, suggested quite convincingly to many participants that they all go on a nearby nature walk. They did so and were greeted with a short but challenging walk accompanied by a swim in a local water hole. Deborah and I decided to read books and take naps since we may be deprived of such luxuries soon!
At 5.30pm we gathered for a briefing talk by a gentleman by the name of Seamus. Seamus was a lovely man with a gentle disposition who despite sounding and looking quite English, had been born and raised in Tanzania. His mother had been one of the founding partners of the gorgeous Marangu hotel. Seamus took us through what was to come, day by day, detail by detail. He effectively drilled home the realities of the mountain and laboured the point of going slowly. He even demonstrated how slow we should go. He seemed to walk so slowly in this demonstration that I thought he may just topple over sideways! Point taken. We showered Seamus with questions especially regarding altitude sickness, which he stressed will be a major consideration on the mountain (thus the recommendation to go slow) and the intensity of the steep inclines. Seamus was simply brilliant at allaying fears and instilling both wisdom and confidence. We had a reality check regarding what was to come and yet at the same time we were encouraged by his assurance that should be take Kili seriously we may just make the summit. A funny moment came when Julie asked Seamus if it were true what people say about the route we were taking, that is was one of the easier routes. Deborah and I exchanged looks of equal concern when Seamus almost choked on this spit at this question. Okay, so Lonely Planet has a lot to answer for.
Needless to say, our heads were swimming as we tried to sleep that night. Excited trepidation may be an apt description! The next day would come soon enough...
Superficial note continued ... I still have cankles.
The cause ...
I will let the ever helpful, Mark give you his take on this memorable day.
The following morning we got up earilish again, as it was our day to visit the Worldvision Magugu ADP. Though pleasantly these early mornings were not a problem for me, as I was still pretty Jetlagged, and waking up at 3-4 Oclock in the morning. (Me not normally being a morning person at all!)
Our visit to the ADP was another African Travel experiance, with the transport and timing of everything not being what was on the schedule, kind of make it up as you go, and having the feeling of it just about being ready to turn to custard. (again I just happily chilled, and went with what happened when).
From the Campsite we were told the Arusha ADP was only about 10 minutes away, well it ended up being about 1hr and 10 minor something, down a dusty dirt road (a main road I believe) and we got to experiance more african driving, e.g. mostly on the wrong side, as it was smoother, and had less potholes, the size of their pot holes are something to behold, being the size of a small or some time large car, and there is no way you would want to accidently go through one at speed! Here again one of our guys got caught speededing by a cop with a Radar gun.
The visit to the ADP and villages was an incrediable experiance, here we finally saw what can be achieved by implementing some decent Govenmental structure over the villages, and some forward thinking/community wide initatives and projects.
We started off by visiting a Maasai Women's group (Magugu is in the Maasai area), and we were welcomed by them, which was an experience in itself. We had an opportunity to ask questions of each group before going to look at all their bead crafts and baskets they had for sale.
Then they fed us baked potato and some kind of chunks of tough meat (probably goat- being Maasai), and provided us refreshments, before farewelling us on our way to the World Vision Office.
At the World Vision office we were introduced to the Area Chairman and various other officials.
Background to this area -
1 Chairman over seeing area,
7 Villages
57000 people
Then we climbed back into the 3 World vision 4WD's and headed down some kind of ruggered/washed out track they call a road, to the site of where they have to go to get their existing water from, this existing water hole, is pretty much just that......a hole dug deep enough to find water, and is fully exposed to anamils/birds and all the associated deaseases and fecial matter they bring, these 2 holes are also at hi risk of getting contaminated by runoff from the surrounding area when it rains, also exposed to the full heat of the sun, making them ideal breeding ground for bugs. The water was very dirty, and possibly slightly stagnant. All the villagers collect water from here, and only some boil it. This is an important point as educating the villagers regarding the boiling of water is an important activity for ADP staff.
The fundraising we have achieved is going towards building what is called shallow wells, which go down deeper than these holes, and are also covered to protect them from animals and exposure, this means the water drawn from them is far easier to protect and is safer.
As we drove out, we passed a school (probably 200 - 400 kids) and they must have been released from class, because the whole lot came running across the field and yelling and screaming in welcome.
On arrival at the water holes, we stopped under a MASSIVE tree, and were greeted by a group of village women who danced and sang to us in welcome, before walking to the water hole and having a chat about what they currently do, and what the water projct is going to allow them to achieve. They have had a water engineer out to survey the surrounding area, and they are currently identifying the best potential locations to drill. Depending on the final amount raised, will depend on how many wells they are able to put in.
After this we got back into our vehicles, and bounced our way down another track through another village centre and out to another part of the water project, which had been completed, this involved widening and lining a canal channel over a length of 600m(the water comes from a river 2km away), This has allowed them to more effectively farm the surrounding 800-1600 Hectares. Their Rice yeld has gone up from 15 bags of rive per acre, to 30 bags of rice an acre, the canal project has also allowed them to farm this land all year round which they utilise for growing Maise and sugarcane. Although there is some drop off in water supply during the dry season. Because their rice is now of so high a quality, it is now shipped into the citys (producing 22000-27000 tonnes of rice per year). This gives them better income, and they have a higher likelyhood of achieving better housing, and being able to send their kids to school.
Seeing the development in this area and what had been achieved with these projects and the significant lift in standard of living, was a fantastic encouragement as to the support and difference we are making, (and this ADP still has 11 years to run.)
Thanks Mark! He has covered most of the visit which is great. I have a couple of additional stories to share here, however the reality of intermittant internet access (we just gained access yesterday) has made it difficult to access enough internet time. I will add more regarding this day once we return as it really was an amazing day with some defining moments. Overall, as Mark described, participants were enormously humbled by the activities of the community. It was especially fun to watch the sponsors who visited their sponsored children. They had smiles a mile wide and were quick to describe to anyone who would listen their entire visit in a play by play account. I buzzed at the thought of visiting my child in the near future.
Later that night we made our way (3-4 hours later) to a gorgeous hotel called the Marangu Hotel. A beautiful hotel reminiscent of the Constant Gardner, surrounded by fragrant trees and copious amounts of birds. This hotel sits in the foothills of Kilimanjaro.
The following morning we got up earilish again, as it was our day to visit the Worldvision Magugu ADP. Though pleasantly these early mornings were not a problem for me, as I was still pretty Jetlagged, and waking up at 3-4 Oclock in the morning. (Me not normally being a morning person at all!)
Our visit to the ADP was another African Travel experiance, with the transport and timing of everything not being what was on the schedule, kind of make it up as you go, and having the feeling of it just about being ready to turn to custard. (again I just happily chilled, and went with what happened when).
From the Campsite we were told the Arusha ADP was only about 10 minutes away, well it ended up being about 1hr and 10 minor something, down a dusty dirt road (a main road I believe) and we got to experiance more african driving, e.g. mostly on the wrong side, as it was smoother, and had less potholes, the size of their pot holes are something to behold, being the size of a small or some time large car, and there is no way you would want to accidently go through one at speed! Here again one of our guys got caught speededing by a cop with a Radar gun.
The visit to the ADP and villages was an incrediable experiance, here we finally saw what can be achieved by implementing some decent Govenmental structure over the villages, and some forward thinking/community wide initatives and projects.
We started off by visiting a Maasai Women's group (Magugu is in the Maasai area), and we were welcomed by them, which was an experience in itself. We had an opportunity to ask questions of each group before going to look at all their bead crafts and baskets they had for sale.
Then they fed us baked potato and some kind of chunks of tough meat (probably goat- being Maasai), and provided us refreshments, before farewelling us on our way to the World Vision Office.
At the World Vision office we were introduced to the Area Chairman and various other officials.
Background to this area -
1 Chairman over seeing area,
7 Villages
57000 people
Then we climbed back into the 3 World vision 4WD's and headed down some kind of ruggered/washed out track they call a road, to the site of where they have to go to get their existing water from, this existing water hole, is pretty much just that......a hole dug deep enough to find water, and is fully exposed to anamils/birds and all the associated deaseases and fecial matter they bring, these 2 holes are also at hi risk of getting contaminated by runoff from the surrounding area when it rains, also exposed to the full heat of the sun, making them ideal breeding ground for bugs. The water was very dirty, and possibly slightly stagnant. All the villagers collect water from here, and only some boil it. This is an important point as educating the villagers regarding the boiling of water is an important activity for ADP staff.
The fundraising we have achieved is going towards building what is called shallow wells, which go down deeper than these holes, and are also covered to protect them from animals and exposure, this means the water drawn from them is far easier to protect and is safer.
As we drove out, we passed a school (probably 200 - 400 kids) and they must have been released from class, because the whole lot came running across the field and yelling and screaming in welcome.
On arrival at the water holes, we stopped under a MASSIVE tree, and were greeted by a group of village women who danced and sang to us in welcome, before walking to the water hole and having a chat about what they currently do, and what the water projct is going to allow them to achieve. They have had a water engineer out to survey the surrounding area, and they are currently identifying the best potential locations to drill. Depending on the final amount raised, will depend on how many wells they are able to put in.
After this we got back into our vehicles, and bounced our way down another track through another village centre and out to another part of the water project, which had been completed, this involved widening and lining a canal channel over a length of 600m(the water comes from a river 2km away), This has allowed them to more effectively farm the surrounding 800-1600 Hectares. Their Rice yeld has gone up from 15 bags of rive per acre, to 30 bags of rice an acre, the canal project has also allowed them to farm this land all year round which they utilise for growing Maise and sugarcane. Although there is some drop off in water supply during the dry season. Because their rice is now of so high a quality, it is now shipped into the citys (producing 22000-27000 tonnes of rice per year). This gives them better income, and they have a higher likelyhood of achieving better housing, and being able to send their kids to school.
Seeing the development in this area and what had been achieved with these projects and the significant lift in standard of living, was a fantastic encouragement as to the support and difference we are making, (and this ADP still has 11 years to run.)
Thanks Mark! He has covered most of the visit which is great. I have a couple of additional stories to share here, however the reality of intermittant internet access (we just gained access yesterday) has made it difficult to access enough internet time. I will add more regarding this day once we return as it really was an amazing day with some defining moments. Overall, as Mark described, participants were enormously humbled by the activities of the community. It was especially fun to watch the sponsors who visited their sponsored children. They had smiles a mile wide and were quick to describe to anyone who would listen their entire visit in a play by play account. I buzzed at the thought of visiting my child in the near future.
Later that night we made our way (3-4 hours later) to a gorgeous hotel called the Marangu Hotel. A beautiful hotel reminiscent of the Constant Gardner, surrounded by fragrant trees and copious amounts of birds. This hotel sits in the foothills of Kilimanjaro.
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