White Christmas in Africa - the great escape

It wasn't even on my top 10 list of travel destinations, but my friend's experience of climbing the Kilimanjaro in Tanzania was so tempting that I decided to challenge myself as well. It was definitely worth all the money and even the little suffering. If you're looking for an adventure and challenging your mind and body, this is for you!

Without much of researching, I decided to take the 7-day Machame route that seemed to have the highest success rate in reaching the top of the mountain. It was a beautiful route, and, in fact, I was afterwards a bit surprised how the whole Kilimanjaro business is so much focused on just reaching the summit, rather than on enjoying the gorgeous nature in the Kilimanjaro National Park and the lovely - when you're not suffering from the altitude sickness - path.

I booked the trek from Ahsante Tours according to my friend's recommendation and I was super happy with our guides (and the rest of the 18 people in the staff) as well as with my fellow trekkers, 2 Americans and 3 Australians. The experience wouldn't have been the same without this amazingly supportive and motivating group that never failed to keep up the positive spirit and confidence in ourselves: "We can make it! - We were born to make it!"

It's not really a technically demanding hike. The path is in good condition and at most times not even very steep. However, the altitude is something that you can't really prepare yourself for. It's quite unexpected how it will affect you; being fit doesn't mean that you will have easier time on the mountain. 

So if 65 km in 7 days does not seem like a big challenge, it might be that when you go through it with a constant headache, stomach problems, and general weakness and dizziness. It is the altitude and the emotional and psychological stress that comes with it that makes the climb such an interesting and difficult endeavor. I was curious to see how I will react to it and what I will learn about myself on the way.

The first day we passed through a rainforest and on the second day we entered to a more alpine like vegetation zone.

The first two days of the hike were pretty easy as we climbed from the Machame gate (1800 m) to the Machame hut (3000 m) and then to Shira hut (3800 m). Obviously we immediately gained quite of a lot of altitude, but we did it "pole pole", meaning very slowly. And I mean very slowly, as grandmothers strolling forward in a sleepy village. But this was the trick to not to get exhausted or lose breath, and it worked perfectly for me.  

We had great views of the second highest mountain of Tanzania, Mt. Meru (4600 m).

The sky wasn't always blue during the hike. On the first day we actually had a heavy rain around noon at which point I was feeling a bit desperate going through in my mind whether I have enough clothes for such weather conditions and whether I am able to dry my clothes during the rest of the hike. 

Somehow my hiking boots were leaking so I was already imagining how my wet feet will freeze at the top of the mountain. Luckily, on the second day it only rained for a short while and for the rest of the hike we were spared of rain. Good rain gear is however a must on the mountain as it is quite impossible to dry wet clothes in the cold conditions and the weather is unpredictable. 

Every day I had more and more wet and sweaty socks drying around in the tent (luckily I wasn't sharing), but it was quite desperate.

For me the third day of the hike was the most difficult one. The day started as a sunny one and we had great views of Kilimanjaro from the camp. Already at night, the moonlit snowcapped Kilimanjaro and the starry sky had amazed me. The most beautiful night sky I've ever seen. Purely magnificent! I don't know if it was already the altitude messing up with my brains or what, but this view made me want to cry and I could just feel deep gratitude of the opportunity of climbing this mountain. Even after the challenge of the third day, this was how I felt.

The challenge of the third day was to climb from 3800 m to 4600 m to Lava Tower and then descend back to 3950 m of Barranco camp. The first half of the day's hike I was feeling ok, just having a little headache. However, after 4000 m I was suffering of nausea and weakness; I just wanted to lie down and have a nap - and cry. 

It was a pretty silent hike in general, my fellow-hikers were also feeling tired and the joyful chatter had broken off, all of us concentrating hard on the path. Finally at the cold and windy Lava Tower I bursted into tears out of exhaustion and desperation. "I will never make it to the top if I already feel so bad now", I was thinking. I had lost my appetite, which didn't make it any easier to continue and descend to the camp. Half-asleep, in some automatic walking mood I made it to the Barranco camp and felt better immediately after throwing up (oh, pineapple for breakfast)...  

After the experience of the third day, I resorted to doping, that is, using Diamox, a drug that can reduce the symptoms of altitude sickness. I didn't have it with me, but luckily my Australian friends had, and it did the trick (or I just got acclimatized - who knows) as I wasn't suffering from nausea during the rest of the hike. We only took a half of a tablet in the evening as recommend by our guide. The only side-effect was the need to go to the toilet at night, which was a bit annoying with all the carefully prepared sleeping arrangements in the freezing tent. But waking up three times a night was still better than going through Day 3 again (and hey, gorgeous night sky!).

Rush hour at Barranco wall. We weren't alone in conquering Kilimanjaro. Around 70-80 other tourists were doing it with us, and probably around 200-300 staff members. I didn't mind the crowd, actually the atmosphere on the mountain was great; we were similar-minded people having the same objective. Something you rarely experience in "real life".

Day 4 consisted of climbing the Barranco wall, and for the first time there was a bit of technical challenge in the hike, but in a nice way. Our group was again full of energy and up we went singing and joking. On the top of Barranco wall with amazing views of the clouds below, we had a great photo session, and compared to the previous day, the feeling was fantastic. However, we had thought that the climb up to Barranco wall would be the challenge of the day, but afterwards we still had to hike down and up again, which really sucked the energy out of us - no singing during the rest of the hike. But the day's hike was beautiful and my favorite of the Machame route.

Porters carrying our stuff, food, tents, etc. were doing an amazing job. They carried the heavy loads on top of their heads and usually run in front of us to set the camp ready before our arrival. Something we all were highly grateful for every day.

The fifth day was a short hike from Karanga camp (3960 m) to the base camp, Barafu hut at 4600 m. The scenery changed and we were now up in the gravel zone with occasional mountain flowers. The hike took us only around 3 hours, and this is why some groups combine the hikes of the 4th and 5th day to make the Machame route in 6 days. However, making the route in 7 days gives more time for acclimatization and also helps you gather enough energy at Barafu hut before the hike to the summit. Suddenly, here we were at the base camp on the fifth day and the following night was our final trial, the hike to Uhuru Peak of Kilimanjaro, the highest point in the continent.

At Barafu hut we first had lunch and a couple of hours apart, already the dinner before trying to sleep at around 19h. The atmosphere at the camp was expectant and we got the last instructions from our guides. Enough clothes, Diamox, more clothes, trust in yourself, pole pole, and off we go. Hakuna matata! Shit! Why not beach holidays?

At 23h30 we set off to climb, a bit terrified. The starry sky and the full moon were shedding light on our way and we hardly needed to use our headlamps. The mountain looked massive ahead of us. It was massive. The wind was blowing like hell and the gusts were so strong I needed to stop to breath. 

The first hour was a steep climb up, but at this point we still had energy. The worst part was the cold, my fingers were freezing for holding the walking poles and my nose was running constantly. We were among the first ones to leave the camp - I guess our guides had noticed that we take "pole pole" seriously... Some groups overtook us, but reaching the top is not a competition, so I was mainly focused on putting one foot ahead of the other. Walking slowly forward and up without even understanding what I'm doing, again in the sleep-walking mood. The hike to the summit was not about the path, it was about reaching the destination.

After reaching 5000 m, our silent group got weaker and each step became more difficult. We were walking like drunk, stumbling and hitting our toes on the stones. Leaning to our guides and trying to find refuge from the wind. Even those who hadn't felt the altitude sickness before were now suffering from headache and dizziness. We saw a few people descending before reaching the top. The privilege of going through the suffering voluntarily... 

Our guides were pointing us the lights ahead of us: "Look, that's already the Stella Point, only a few more steps, you can do it!" The lights at Stella Point (5765 m) looked so far away and we reached many fake peaks before getting there. Desperate and tired at each fake peak. 

The few last hundred meters I was clinging to Musa, one of our guides, more for emotional support than physical. I was thinking that it would be ok to stop at Stella Point, that I wouldn't need to continue to Uhuru Peak, a further 10o m up. This was the only time I was considering of giving up.

Once at Stella Point, after around 6.5 hours of walking, the sun started rising and the wind became weaker. A little bit of hot tea and a few bites of a Snicker bar (thank you multinational chocolate companies...) and walking up to Uhuru Peak (5895 m) seemed again feasible. Hand in hand with Musa, we walked the last 20 minutes to the ultimate peak. Surprisingly, I didn't cry, although I feel like crying just now when thinking of that moment. It was Christmas Day and we were on the roof of Africa. This was the best Christmas present ever (perhaps because I never got a dog).

The views from the summit were stunning (well, everything was stunning then!). Unfortunately, according to some predictions, the glaciers will have melted by 2030, so these are the last moments to witness the snow of Kilimanjaro.

The way down was easy, we were almost running in the soft gravel back to the base camp where we had a nap and a lunch (and many high-fives) before continuing for a few hours to the Millenium camp (3800 m) for the last night of relaxation and going through our personal experiences. Relief, celebration, exhilaration. We did it - and we did it together!

The last day was a long walk down to Mweka gate, being tough for the front thighs and knees, but it was liberating to walk fast and easily, and little by little removing layers of clothes. More importantly, no stress about reaching or not reaching the summit of Kilimanjaro. And ah, thinking of a shower waiting for us in the hotel.

Absolute musts for a comfortable trip:
-enough warm clothes, most of the time it is very cold (only on the first day I was wearing shorts)
-a real winter gear for the summit night (it can be -10°C and with the wind it feels much colder)
-another pair of shoes for the camps
-sun lotion and sun glasses (my lips were badly burnt, with the cold air, it's even worse)
-camel bag for water (I didn't have one, which meant that I wasn't drinking enough water as we didn't make many pauses during the hike)
-good rain gear (you don't dry anything on the mountain)
-enough warm socks (you want to have a fresh pair for each day)
-thermal underwear (this trip is not about looking good on the way)
-wet swipes for a little cleaning (you get a handful of hot water in the camp)
-Diamox for altitude sickness and painkillers 
-diary to write down the day's adventure or what you feel grateful for that day
-head lamp and extra batteries
-enough money for good tips to the staff
-protein bars and snacks
-GoPro camera (I don't have one, but seemed like a great idea)
-positive energy, self-confidence, and team spirit

Love and Anarchy: Grigris

Grigris, an African film from Chad, that I saw at the Helsinki International Film Festival had pretty bad actors (or maybe I'm just not used to African style of acting) and very traditional storyline, but I just loved watching it. I felt so happy seeing the African landscape and the African dusty roads and villages. It must be pretty weird, but I felt a bit home-sick.

Too bad, my next holiday flights are already booked for Asia... 

Hmm, I guess I need to live Africa through culture for a while then. Luckily, I have a pile of African literature waiting for me and our last book club reading was The Last Flight of the Flamingo by Mia Couto from Mozambique. How funny, by the way, that we wanted to pick up an African novel by a female author and chose this one among many alternatives. So it was a bit of a surprise when I opened the book the first time and a photo of a white guy greeted me. Mia...

Gorillas in the Mist and a Stolen Heart

Seeing this article "Regard de singes, folie des hommes" on Le Monde website about a photo book (I obviously ordered it immediately) on mountain gorillas, I remembered my own unforgettable encounter with these gorgeous animals in Rwanda a few months ago. As a consequence, the need to share this experience here grew stronger.

A couple of years ago for some forgotten reason I got obsessed about mountain gorillas (Gorilla beringei beringei), but at the same time I thought that seeing them in the wild was just an unachievable dream (mostly for financial reasons). However, when I signed up for a scout camp in Burundi I immediately knew that I wouldn't travel that far in Africa without a little trip to the Virunga mountains on the border of Rwanda, Democratic Republic of Congo (RDC) and Uganda. Although this trip ruined my finances, this is exactly why I've been saving money in the past. Compared to the experience, 500 dollars for a gorilla permit was little money.

I prepared myself for this trip by watching the excellent film from the 1980s "Gorillas in the Mist" with Sigourney Weaver (see trailer of the film above). It tells the real story of the primatologist Dr. Dian Fossey who studied mountain gorillas in the Virungas and also played a significant role in saving the species from illegal poaching and likely extinction. Crying my eyes off with the film, I started being afraid that I have too high expectations for my own gorilla tracking experience. But here's what happened and how I lost my heart to our gorilla cousins.

The road from the capital of Rwanda, Kigali, to the village of Kinigi next to the Parc National des Volcans was surprisingly good and my driver and guide Ahmed with whom I travelled for one week was used to the sudden curves and misty mountain air. On the road, I also realized that the country is aptly called "le pays des milles collines", or the land of a thousand hills. Unfortunately, many of the hills are bald and cultivated, as almost all the land in this small country is used to support its population of around 10 million (one of the most densely populated places on earth!). (The hills continue on the other side of the border in Burundi where it seemed much greener in my opinion - hmm, grass is greener on the other side?)

By the way, it can be quite scary to organise such an expensive trip and pay a very high deposit beforehand to an unknown agency. Therefore, I can warmly recommend the trustworthy agency I used for part of my trip: AA Safaris and Tours. They were very helpful and responded to all my queries promptly (vegetarian food, modified itinerary, new departure date etc.). We also had good time with Ahmed on the road, even though half of the time I couldn't really understand what he was saying. In his African way, he arranged everything really well (though we had some disagreement about punctuality) and even at the moments of little despair he made it all work out. My all-inclusive 7-day tour in Rwanda and Uganda with budget accommodation cost 3,590 US dollars and though I'm still living on credit because of this trip, it was worth it.

On my first day in the national park I went for a shorter trek to see golden monkeys (see a photo above), an endemic and endangered primate living only in the Virunga mountains, a mountain range comprised of 5 volcanoes (the highest is Karisimbi reaching around 4500 m) in North-Western Rwanda. Recently this rare species has become a new tourist attraction after a long habituation precess whereby monkeys become more familiar with humans. As with the gorillas, this can help save the species from extinction when their economic value becomes evident for the local communities. It was great to observe these cute and playful animals, but I must confess that I was already thinking of the gorillas, which were on my programme the next day.

Visitors can spend time with one of the seven different habituated gorilla families in the Parc National des Volcans. Other places to see mountain gorillas are Uganda and RDC. In order to avoid bothering the animals too much, there is a limit of 8 tourists per gorilla family, equalling to total of 56 tourists per day in the park. This means that you need to book your gorilla permit in advance, especially in the peak season of July-August. The most famous group is the Susa group, which Dian Fossey studied; due to this fame this is also the group all the tourists want to see. My guess is that the experience is wonderful with any of the families, while the trekking time can vary depending on how far the group has moved up in the mountains.

On the morning of the trek, at 7 am the tourists assemble at the headquarters of the park. There was an amazing atmosphere of expectation and excitement. We were waiting for our guides to go through the hassle of registration and do their best to get their protégés in the Susa group. A local dance group was performing traditional dances (see above) and we took photos, drank tea and behaved like children on Christmas Eve. Older tourists wore their impeccable Indiana Jones gear; and all the hassle with the ankle protections against angry ants and stinging nettle seemed a bit exaggerated to me (I rolled my socks up and this was good enough).

I ended up in a group together with some elderly Brits (always excellent travel company with their smooth small talk, polite manners and good mood). In general, most of the people going gorilla tracking seemed to be over 50; I guess the 500 dollars permit puts off younger people travelling with a limited budget.

We were assigned the gorilla family of Hirwa (see above the members of the group), meaning the lucky one. We had two knowledgeable park guides who were constantly in contact with the park rangers tracking the gorillas up in the mountain. The gorillas change their base every night so the park rangers wake up at 4 am to find the family for the tourists and also for their own research.

We first walked through cultivated land and some eucalyptus forests and then arrived to the foot of the misty mountain. The lowest level of the mountain is bamboo forest, also the delicacy of the gorillas. On the way up, we came across huge footprints belonging to elephants, but unfortunately we didn't see any of them. It felt absurd that elephants could walk in the thick forest with steep hills. A park ranger with a rusty machine gun with him was also accompanying us. The gun wasn't against the guerilla groups causing trouble at the RDC side of the Virungas but against aggressive buffaloes. And the gun was certainly not against the gorillas (which are despite the look and intimidating size usually non-aggressive); in fact, I guess the rangers would rather shoot at a tourist than an endangered mountain gorilla. At least I probably would.

I had prepared myself for rain, muddy path, ants and nettles after reading Lonely Planet's description: "Gorilla tracking is no joy ride. The guides can generally find the gorillas within one to four hours of starting out, but this often involves a lot of strenuous effort scrambling through dense vegetation up steep, muddy hillsides, sometimes to altitudes of more than 3000m. At higher altitudes, you’ll also have to contend with the thick overgrowth of stinging nettles, which can easily penetrate light clothing. As if fiery skin rashes weren’t enough of a deterrent, it also rains a lot in this area, so the going can certainly get tough (and muddy) in parts. At this altitude the air can thin out quickly, so descend to lower altitudes if you develop an intense headache."

But in our case, it was just misty and moist, nothing a Finn isn't accustomed to in any case. All in all, it was a rather enjoyable walk of around 3 hours uphill. Some of the older Brits had however payed for porter to carry their little backpacks, but this would be completely unnecessary for anybody with a good health.

Then suddenly, we saw fresh gorilla dung on our path, heard some weird noises and even more suddenly we bumped into the silverback, the charismatic male leader of the Hirwa family. There he was with his 200 kg of body mass eating bamboo leaves (they are vegetarians!). Calmly he concentrated only on the food as we stood mouths open amazed by his cool and powerful presence in front of us. We moved on to see the rest of the family: two younger males were chasing each other around bamboos. After a little while the other one grabbed my leg. I wanted to cuddle him but the guide came to hush him away with grunting sounds; of course, we weren't allowed to approach them too much but it was hard to keep the distance of advised 7 metres as the gorillas were running around. Some of the gorillas were also moving above us (see my video below), somehow they were able to not fall through the tops of the light bamboo branches; the leaves fell on us and we waited for the moment when a gorilla would thud on the ground - it didn't. Then there were the baby twins, adorable like plush toys. When the silverback carried them around like a protecting father, we sighed and I had to hold my tears.

In fact, I was about to burst into tears several times during the 70 minutes we spent with the gorillas. The encounter and our sudden connection with the nature was somehow so magical and unimaginable. Still now, when I start describing this experience, my voice starts shaking and I get tears in my eyes. Definitely, seeing the mountain gorillas is one of the most magnificent moments of my life. Being truly in contact with animals and especially with these human-like animals is unusual for an urban denizen. The gorillas  are wonderful to look at as they are just purely beautiful, but then they also played around, showed a variety of emotions and feelings on their faces and made human-like gestures (farting, grabbing the balls, doing somersaults etc.), which made the observation even more special.

After our visiting time was over, I guess I wasn't the only one to whisper to the park rangers "can I just stay with you guys here...". I'm not at all surprised that Dian Fossey got so obsessed about these animals, putting them before humans. I understand this passionate regard towards them and they will always have a certain place in my heart (and in my bank account through WWF donations). It's impossible for me to think that some people would rather have a dead gorilla's hand as an ashtray in their living room (like portrayed in the Gorillas in the Mist) than have these intelligent and beautiful  creatures live peacefully in the mountains. It's a disgusting thought, like all the illegal wildlife trade taking place in the world.

The estimated number of mountain gorillas is around 790 at the moment. Their situation has improved as the social and political conditions in Rwanda and Uganda have grown more stable (during the Idi Amin years, soldiers killed wild animals for food in many national parks in Uganda) and the tourism has proved to be more profitable than poaching. Prior to 1999 the Parc National des Volcans was still out of bounds because of the armed conflict, the presence of Lord Resistance Army and the aftermath of the genocide; now it seemed very safe. A 500 USD permit (which I think has now been increased to 750 USD) is an appropriate price for the rich Westerners (the local people pay much less) if it helps preserving the wildlife in Africa. That's how I perceived the fee, a contribution to environmental conservation and an incentive for the local communities to develop sustainable tourism, i.e. not only an entrance fee.

I understood during this trip in Africa that nature gives me bigger kicks than culture, so I guess I will be doing more hiking and nature escapes in the future if possible. The next primates I want to see are the orangutans in Indonesia. But then, I only had a glimpse of lions in Uganda and that bothers me a bit. And I really want to do the Annapurna trek in Nepal. Of course, I should visit the national parks in Finland first. I can also imagine myself tenting in the Scottish highlands or doing yoga on a secluded beach in India. And now that I've written this, I really want to go to Rwanda again! Oh boy, the problem of travelling is the side-effect of even bigger craving for new trips.

Great Escape in Africa: Learning

One of the most wonderful things about travelling is learning. Something I remembered again during my last trip in Africa.

During the 22 days spent in Rwanda, Uganda and Burundi I updated and expanded my knowledge on African geography (me who once knew all the states and capitals in Africa), some bits of African history, Western geo-politics from an African point of view, colonialism, African animals and nature, African music and culture, and African politics. I'm all set for the pub quiz autumn season.

To be completely honest, my knowledge on these issues before the trip might have been a little weak. But, as I already wrote, travelling inspires and motivates me to learn more about my destination, so I filled my backpack with a biography of Idi Amin, a novel set in the times of the Rwandan genocide, a history book on the exploration of the source of the Nile in the late 19th century, the classic novel "Heart of Darkness" by Joseph Conrad, and three other books about Africa.

However, the greatest source of information was the people I met in Africa, from whom I learnt about the hypocrisy of the Western development aid policies and the double standards in the Western approach to African leaders, about their views on homosexuality and relationships, how Gaddafi was a respected pan-African leader, about white man’s burden in Africa, about hospitality and generosity, and, maybe above all, the extent to which our understanding and knowledge about this vast continent is limited.

During my trip, the list of things to understand/know better started to overwhelm me: Robert Mugabe, consequences of the climate change in Africa, how to define the source of a river (in my case the Nile), African wild animals, tea cultivation, endangered animals and fish, Swahili language, African literature, social security in Africa… It turned out that watching “Hotel Rwanda”, “Gorillas in the Mist” and some documentary films about primates was a good start but certainly not enough.

"Not only did Africa deplete my savings but it also stole my heart", I wrote as my Facebook status after the trip. The greatest ebullience has slightly faded, but I believe that my African adventure has a long-lasting effect: I’m hooked, I want to learn more – and a little study trip somewhere in Africa wouldn’t be unappreciated either…

Africa colours the world.

For sure, I will now pay more attention to the news from Africa and perhaps I will buy the magazine "Jeune Afrique" more often. Maybe this blog will turn into a literature blog on Afro-lit (after a little eco-lit try-out a few months ago)... Maybe not, but I will try to write down some thoughts that I had during the trip. Obviously, I'm still working on that great Helsinki World Design Capital blog entry as well...