I'm hitting the tracks tomorrow and heading north out of Bangkok. The shine is gone, and the seamy underbelly of the city is showing itself, and I've never been particularly fond of seaminess. But, besides being pretty revolted by all the white tourist men I see wining and dining Thai women, I had a fairly decent day. I needed to get my train ticket for tomorrow, so got on a bus to the train station. I noticed that the red lights seemed to be ridiculously long, so when the bus was caught at one I started to time it on my watch. At six minutes, I thought it was funny. At 10 minutes I was baffled. At 14 minutes the locals started to get antsy. At 16 minutes the locals started to get off! At EIGHTEEN MINUTES at a continuously red light (the cross traffic having had four or five turns) the bus driver gave up and drove through it. Seriously.... 18 minutes! Obviously something was wrong with that traffic light.
(By the way, you should know when crossing streets in Bangkok that actually have a crosswalk AND a crossing signal, there is no warning as to when the little green walking man will suddenly turn to red and you are half way across six lanes of traffic when they start to drive. You might have 18 minutes to cross, or about two seconds. Good luck!)
This evening I had dinner with some friends of my aunt. They took me to a place on the river, and ordered all sorts of things that they thought I should try. I had Tom Yum (?) soup, square breaded sausage things (yummy!), beef slices, cashew chicken curry, and something that was either a very large shrimp or small lobster, which was fried and eaten whole... shell and all. I dutifully followed my host's lead and ate the whole damned thing. (It was fried, so it wasn't too bad. Crunchy.)
Very full now, and looking forward to heading to the guest house and packing my backpack up again. (Sigh...)
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Bangkok, Day 3
Today I played the proper tourist, and went from temple to museum to palace all day. It was a good day, but the Thai sentimentality in regards to their museums had me chuckling quite a bit. They don't seem to believe in culling anything! If one spear is good, 50 is better. Why have just one cannon, when we could display them all? And how many Buddhas do I need to see in the "stop fighting between relatives" pose? (Well, actually....) At the museum attached to the really big temple here (Wat Something-that-I've-already-forgotten, but it houses the Emerald Buddha), they had a display of tools that they used in the restoration of the temple. Yes, they had on display, among many other things, a saw, a hammer, and, my personal favorite, a toothbrush. Later in the day at the Elephant Museum (don't ask, for I don't know the answer), I particularly enjoyed seeing an elephant molar and "pickled while elephant leather" (translation: elephant skin in formaldehyde).At all the temples and some of the museums I had to take my shoes off. Let me tell you,
I LOVE being barefoot walking around museums. (Now if I could only find a museum where extraneous bits of clothes were optional...) Of course, once I was barefoot, I automatically started to practice my plies and releves. Luckily these museums weren't terribly popular. In fact at one little museum I was the only person there, so I had my own personal guard/shadow. I'm not sure if she was making sure I didn't touch or steal anything, or if she wanted to make sure I followed the arrows that were on the floors of every museum telling you exactly which way to flow through it!Given my gourmet western meal yesterday, I decided that today I would eat off the streets. No, not Thai roadkill (which would likely be one of the zillion cats I've seen wandering around), but eating from street vendors. So here is what I had today:
Breakfast-- 3 bananas and half a pineapple (very delicious it was)
Lunch-- Noodle soup of some sort, which had some odd fish product things floating in it
Dessert (I happened upon a random street fair that reminded me of Taste of Missouri, but without all the crafts, just the food)-- Some square thing that looked like a little cake with candied ginger shreds atop. Well, the candied ginger turned out to be onion, so I was a bit dubious about the cake part. I also couldn't figure out how to get it out of the little tin, and she didn't give me (or I forgot to pick up) any fork or chopsticks or anything... So I dug in with my fingers, and was pleased to find that it was indeed sweet. Kind of like a very moist cakey flan sort of thing.
Snack-- I spotted something that looked like four crab rangoons on a stick, so excitedly got that. Unfortunately it turned out to be hard boiled eggs wrapped in won tons. You win some, you lose some.
There is a good likelihood that I will become quite ill later tonight, but for the moment I am feeling happily sated.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Bangkok, Day 2
I spent yesterday just wandering around the area of town where I am staying, getting used to all the little alleys in the area which pass as roads. (I am sure the three people sewing leather purses together near where I'm staying started keeping count how many times I passed them after about the 5th time.)
Today I got out a bit more. Well, first I had a good old-fashioned lie-in. After getting up at 6 am every day for a month, I slept until 9:30. Yes, that would be 12 hours of sleep, as I went to bed quite early. It was a good sleep, but I can't say that the beds here are comfortable. Both in the first guest house where I had the nap yesterday, and this place, the 'mattress' really is more of a box-spring with a mattress pad atop. I am pretty sure I dreamed last night of finding a Linens 'n Things here and buying one of those foam egg crate mattress covers. (A girl can dream...)
I met my aunt's friend for lunch. There was some confusion as to whether we were meeting inside or outside the hotel which she suggested. She was sitting in the nicely air-conditioned lobby, and I was dutifully waiting for her to pull up outside. Oh well! Eventually we found each other, and off we set. She suggested giving me a little driving tour of Bangkok, which I happily accepted. She said that one needs to drive defensively in this city... Well, the OTHERS do when driving near her! She plunked herself right in the middle of two lanes, and pretty much swerved whenever a car or motorbike was anywhere near her. I had to close my eyes a couple of times, but we made it out alive. She suggested stopping at her Sports Club (The Royal Bangkok Sports Club... oldest in the city and quite colonial, even though Bangkok was never colonized) for a drink first. I accepted, even though I had not actually had anything to eat yet. Nothing like a glass of wine on the empty stomach of a girl who doesn't really drink!
The drink was fine (and I didn't fall over when leaving the table), and she took me off for a 'proper' lunch (read: not Thai... I had arugula salad, beef bourgoinnone (however you spell that) and a brownie). She was perfectly lovely, and it was nice to chat with her and find out about the mess that was going on here the last few weeks. She dropped me off at the Sky Train, so I could experience that as a route home.
From there I decided to walk back to my guest house. It was probably about two miles, which I did all on the big streets (not trusting the little streets or my map). There were a couple of streets which I had to cross (with crosswalks but no crossing signals), where I said to myself, "How the [expletive deleted] am I supposed to cross this [expletive deleted]??" Once or twice I did have to lean back so my nose didn't get clipped by a passing truck. My favorite, though, was the crosswalk which went half way across the street and then stopped. Okay, whatever!
When I got back to the guest house, I walked the 68 paces (turn right out of the door, turn right at the corner, and it's the first entrance you come across) to the massage place. Yes, I went there yesterday and I went back today. Best damn $6 a day (including tip!) that I've ever spent. I had a Thai massage yesterday, and an oil massage today, and I can now conclusively say that I prefer Thai massage. (Yes, the little woman was actually standing on me at one point, and it was awesome!) I am seriously considering moving to this country, or else smuggling Ayma (my new best friend, replacing the blind woman from my dance class who thought I was 18) into my backpack and around the world with me! (I think tomorrow I might get a facial...)
One random observation for you from my wanderings through this tourist mecca last night. There is absolutely nothing more pathetic than a balding man (buff though he may be) getting corn rows.
Until later!
Today I got out a bit more. Well, first I had a good old-fashioned lie-in. After getting up at 6 am every day for a month, I slept until 9:30. Yes, that would be 12 hours of sleep, as I went to bed quite early. It was a good sleep, but I can't say that the beds here are comfortable. Both in the first guest house where I had the nap yesterday, and this place, the 'mattress' really is more of a box-spring with a mattress pad atop. I am pretty sure I dreamed last night of finding a Linens 'n Things here and buying one of those foam egg crate mattress covers. (A girl can dream...)
I met my aunt's friend for lunch. There was some confusion as to whether we were meeting inside or outside the hotel which she suggested. She was sitting in the nicely air-conditioned lobby, and I was dutifully waiting for her to pull up outside. Oh well! Eventually we found each other, and off we set. She suggested giving me a little driving tour of Bangkok, which I happily accepted. She said that one needs to drive defensively in this city... Well, the OTHERS do when driving near her! She plunked herself right in the middle of two lanes, and pretty much swerved whenever a car or motorbike was anywhere near her. I had to close my eyes a couple of times, but we made it out alive. She suggested stopping at her Sports Club (The Royal Bangkok Sports Club... oldest in the city and quite colonial, even though Bangkok was never colonized) for a drink first. I accepted, even though I had not actually had anything to eat yet. Nothing like a glass of wine on the empty stomach of a girl who doesn't really drink!
The drink was fine (and I didn't fall over when leaving the table), and she took me off for a 'proper' lunch (read: not Thai... I had arugula salad, beef bourgoinnone (however you spell that) and a brownie). She was perfectly lovely, and it was nice to chat with her and find out about the mess that was going on here the last few weeks. She dropped me off at the Sky Train, so I could experience that as a route home.
From there I decided to walk back to my guest house. It was probably about two miles, which I did all on the big streets (not trusting the little streets or my map). There were a couple of streets which I had to cross (with crosswalks but no crossing signals), where I said to myself, "How the [expletive deleted] am I supposed to cross this [expletive deleted]??" Once or twice I did have to lean back so my nose didn't get clipped by a passing truck. My favorite, though, was the crosswalk which went half way across the street and then stopped. Okay, whatever!
When I got back to the guest house, I walked the 68 paces (turn right out of the door, turn right at the corner, and it's the first entrance you come across) to the massage place. Yes, I went there yesterday and I went back today. Best damn $6 a day (including tip!) that I've ever spent. I had a Thai massage yesterday, and an oil massage today, and I can now conclusively say that I prefer Thai massage. (Yes, the little woman was actually standing on me at one point, and it was awesome!) I am seriously considering moving to this country, or else smuggling Ayma (my new best friend, replacing the blind woman from my dance class who thought I was 18) into my backpack and around the world with me! (I think tomorrow I might get a facial...)
One random observation for you from my wanderings through this tourist mecca last night. There is absolutely nothing more pathetic than a balding man (buff though he may be) getting corn rows.
Until later!
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Thailand
I have arrived safely in Thailand (but not terribly happy at the moment, because this keyboard is HORRENDOUS, and I am paying by the minute!). I kept expecting my stomach to start doing flip-flops as I was on the plane, for this is the first place no one was going to meet me or house me or feed me. I am totally on my own. But, much to my amazement, I was totally calm. I probably was just still asleep...
Upon arriving in Bangkok, the pilot got on the intercom and said, "Welcome to.......... Well, honestly I cannot pronounce the name." I don't know why not... the airport is called Suvarnabhumi. I mean it just ROLLS off the tongue! I was delighted to find that my backpack made the 40 minute layover in Doha and was waiting for me past immigration. I hopped on the bus to the backpackers' area of town (with lots of other backpackers from all over, it sounded like), and we came into Banglamphu. I couldn't help thinking it felt a bit like the Amazing Race, as I assumed that they would also all be searching for rooms as soon as we got off the bus.
I started wandering down alleys off the main road, following wherever I saw a sign
that said Guest House. I think at the 4th or 5th place they had a room. At $7, I grabbed it. So what if the window actually goes into the bathroom, or that as I was checking in at 9 am, a bunch of very drunk people were just coming home from the night out. It had a bed and a pillow (and that is ALL it had), so I crashed for two hours. Then I headed out to find some food and water (it is amazing how the whole Wants v Needs thing is forefront in my mind now), and went back to one of the other guest houses to see if they had a room yet. They did, and so in a few minutes I'll be switching to a nicer, quieter, cheaper (if you can imagine!) place.
I have a lunch date for tomorrow with an elderly friend of my aunt. She is coming to collect me at some hotel nearby. It was comical trying to spell the name of the hotel or her trying to write down my phone number. Might be a miracle if we actually meet!
I think I need to find a new keyboard as soon as this coin runs out, because I am rapidly developing carpal tunnel syndrome (or however you spell it)....
Anyway, sawat-dii from Thailand!
Upon arriving in Bangkok, the pilot got on the intercom and said, "Welcome to.......... Well, honestly I cannot pronounce the name." I don't know why not... the airport is called Suvarnabhumi. I mean it just ROLLS off the tongue! I was delighted to find that my backpack made the 40 minute layover in Doha and was waiting for me past immigration. I hopped on the bus to the backpackers' area of town (with lots of other backpackers from all over, it sounded like), and we came into Banglamphu. I couldn't help thinking it felt a bit like the Amazing Race, as I assumed that they would also all be searching for rooms as soon as we got off the bus.
I started wandering down alleys off the main road, following wherever I saw a sign
that said Guest House. I think at the 4th or 5th place they had a room. At $7, I grabbed it. So what if the window actually goes into the bathroom, or that as I was checking in at 9 am, a bunch of very drunk people were just coming home from the night out. It had a bed and a pillow (and that is ALL it had), so I crashed for two hours. Then I headed out to find some food and water (it is amazing how the whole Wants v Needs thing is forefront in my mind now), and went back to one of the other guest houses to see if they had a room yet. They did, and so in a few minutes I'll be switching to a nicer, quieter, cheaper (if you can imagine!) place.I have a lunch date for tomorrow with an elderly friend of my aunt. She is coming to collect me at some hotel nearby. It was comical trying to spell the name of the hotel or her trying to write down my phone number. Might be a miracle if we actually meet!
I think I need to find a new keyboard as soon as this coin runs out, because I am rapidly developing carpal tunnel syndrome (or however you spell it)....
Anyway, sawat-dii from Thailand!
Friday, December 5, 2008
Random Kenyan thoughts
One last post for the day, for the country, for the continent. These are just a collection of random thoughts, observations, and anecdotes from my time here. Enjoy.
I've never eaten so much cabbage in my life. While here I have also sampled goat, ostrich, loads of mangoes, lychee, paw paw, passion (fruit, alas), and about a bushel of raw tomatoes.
Kids seem to wander free here. Rarely do I see even the youngest of children being supervised by an adult. Even at recess. (When I went to visit Materi, Sister Esther took me to see the primary school next door. We just wandered in through the open gates and were immediately swarmed by the entire school. And not a grown-up in sight.)
There doesn't seem to be much in the way of garbage service here (I asked about recycling, and received a laugh), so people burn it. It's not uncommon to see a goat atop a pile of garbage which is still smoldering a bit. There is garbage (plastic bags especially) everywhere. It makes me shudder every time I see it.
Billy Ocean appears to still be big in Kenya. I heard him a number of times on the radio or CDs. Ditto for the song Celebration. (Go 1982 World Series Champions Cards!)
On Qatar Airways, one of the graphics that comes on the screen (along with how far to your destination, where you are now) is which direction Mecca is.
On the trip to Mombasa our van driver suddenly said we needed to be wearing seatbelts (after 11 days of not caring a whit). A police checkpoint was coming up. The three of us made a mad dash, but not a one of us could find both sides of a seatbelt. I just tucked mine into the side. The guy next to me contorted himself over the top of the seats (tall seats) into the next row (leaving a flip flop and much of one leg up front) in an attempt to find one. That not working, he contorted himself back up to the front, all the while yelling "Where ARE the seatbelts?!"
On the first day of monkey chasing I thought that our leader's hair was awfully well coiffed. Possibly TOO well coiffed. My theory was confirmed when she caught a twig and her wig came off. She put it back on, but a little crooked. (After that day, she gave up and just wore a scarf. On the last morning she said she couldn't wait to have her hair done properly.)
The monkeys ate the same sour fruit that I did when visiting that family. Turns out to be tamarind.
I did my laundry today here in Nairobi (at my cousin's cousin's house). When I went to hang it on the line, it had already been done (by the "domestic"). When I went to get it off the line, it had already been folded. It had also all been IRONED! While I can quite happily iron linen napkins for hours on a Saturday morning, I draw the line at ironing ALL of my clothes. They've never looked so good (and certainly won't again for the next six months, as I cram them into my backpack!).
I kept misreading the sign "Plot for sale" as "Pilot for sale".
One day I was served stew, and I said "Thank you" to the cook. She said "Caribou". I thought to myself that I hadn't known caribou were in Kenya, but really, what do I know? Then I realized she was saying "Karibu," which is Swahili for "You're welcome."
When wandering through the woods I kept smelling butter, and wondered who had greased themselves up. Turned out to be the pollen of a tree.
The CB in the safari jeep sounded just like something squawky out of Star Wars.
I saw a restaurant that had this painted on it's windows, presumably by way of an advertisement: "Breakfast Marinated Salad".
One evening after dark we were driving through a small town and I noticed that only a few shops had lights on. One had a nice v-neck dress hanging in the window. As we approached, I realized it was actually a butchery and that dress was a goat or sheep.
Everyone and their grandmother has cell phones here. You'll see a Maasai warrior with his spear, blade, club, and a cell phone clipped to his belt.
I have been singing Hakuna Matata for two weeks.
I misread the Rift Valley Institute of Science and Technology as Scientology, and thought, Oh no, not here as well!
One day I was sitting near (not by) a river, just watching it roll by. A guy on the other side came up to it, presumably to wash, but threw a big rock in first, to ward off any crocs. I think I'd rather be dirty.
I guess that's it for Africa. Hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have. I'm sure I'll have many more stories in person!
I've never eaten so much cabbage in my life. While here I have also sampled goat, ostrich, loads of mangoes, lychee, paw paw, passion (fruit, alas), and about a bushel of raw tomatoes.
Kids seem to wander free here. Rarely do I see even the youngest of children being supervised by an adult. Even at recess. (When I went to visit Materi, Sister Esther took me to see the primary school next door. We just wandered in through the open gates and were immediately swarmed by the entire school. And not a grown-up in sight.)
There doesn't seem to be much in the way of garbage service here (I asked about recycling, and received a laugh), so people burn it. It's not uncommon to see a goat atop a pile of garbage which is still smoldering a bit. There is garbage (plastic bags especially) everywhere. It makes me shudder every time I see it.
Billy Ocean appears to still be big in Kenya. I heard him a number of times on the radio or CDs. Ditto for the song Celebration. (Go 1982 World Series Champions Cards!)
On Qatar Airways, one of the graphics that comes on the screen (along with how far to your destination, where you are now) is which direction Mecca is.
On the trip to Mombasa our van driver suddenly said we needed to be wearing seatbelts (after 11 days of not caring a whit). A police checkpoint was coming up. The three of us made a mad dash, but not a one of us could find both sides of a seatbelt. I just tucked mine into the side. The guy next to me contorted himself over the top of the seats (tall seats) into the next row (leaving a flip flop and much of one leg up front) in an attempt to find one. That not working, he contorted himself back up to the front, all the while yelling "Where ARE the seatbelts?!"
On the first day of monkey chasing I thought that our leader's hair was awfully well coiffed. Possibly TOO well coiffed. My theory was confirmed when she caught a twig and her wig came off. She put it back on, but a little crooked. (After that day, she gave up and just wore a scarf. On the last morning she said she couldn't wait to have her hair done properly.)
The monkeys ate the same sour fruit that I did when visiting that family. Turns out to be tamarind.
I did my laundry today here in Nairobi (at my cousin's cousin's house). When I went to hang it on the line, it had already been done (by the "domestic"). When I went to get it off the line, it had already been folded. It had also all been IRONED! While I can quite happily iron linen napkins for hours on a Saturday morning, I draw the line at ironing ALL of my clothes. They've never looked so good (and certainly won't again for the next six months, as I cram them into my backpack!).
I kept misreading the sign "Plot for sale" as "Pilot for sale".
One day I was served stew, and I said "Thank you" to the cook. She said "Caribou". I thought to myself that I hadn't known caribou were in Kenya, but really, what do I know? Then I realized she was saying "Karibu," which is Swahili for "You're welcome."
When wandering through the woods I kept smelling butter, and wondered who had greased themselves up. Turned out to be the pollen of a tree.
The CB in the safari jeep sounded just like something squawky out of Star Wars.
I saw a restaurant that had this painted on it's windows, presumably by way of an advertisement: "Breakfast Marinated Salad".
One evening after dark we were driving through a small town and I noticed that only a few shops had lights on. One had a nice v-neck dress hanging in the window. As we approached, I realized it was actually a butchery and that dress was a goat or sheep.
Everyone and their grandmother has cell phones here. You'll see a Maasai warrior with his spear, blade, club, and a cell phone clipped to his belt.
I have been singing Hakuna Matata for two weeks.
I misread the Rift Valley Institute of Science and Technology as Scientology, and thought, Oh no, not here as well!
One day I was sitting near (not by) a river, just watching it roll by. A guy on the other side came up to it, presumably to wash, but threw a big rock in first, to ward off any crocs. I think I'd rather be dirty.
I guess that's it for Africa. Hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have. I'm sure I'll have many more stories in person!
Monkey Chasing
I am back in Nairobi again for one more night before heading out to Thailand tomorrow. (I hope... see post below.) I am therefore going to deluge you with posts while I have the chance (IF the power stays on... it has been going off about every half hour for 5 minutes or so all day, and was pretty sketchy the last few days).
I spent the last 11 days on the coast of Kenya (honestly, I didn't even know Kenya HAD a coast, and certainly never realized what a tourist hot-spot it was, especially with the Italians. Kids would smile and wave to our bus and say "Ciao!") doing my Earthwatch Monkey Chasing trip (I think it was officially called Kenya's Forest Monkeys or something unexciting like that). THANK YOU to those who made contributions to my trip and helped make it possible for me to go there. Know that your money was well spent (or donated rather), and that I was the Queen Monkey chaser (dubbed thus by myself, just this second... my fellow monkey chasers might choose to disagree, but I'm banking on them losing my blog address before they read this).
This will likely be a long post detailing all the exciting things that the monkeys did for 11 days ("Resting.... Resting... Resting... Moving..."), so get a cup of something warm (for I think most of you are in cold weather places, unlike me!) and settle in for a good long read.
The Earthwatch trip began when I arrived at the Nairobi airport three hours before my flight to the coast (traffic was totally non-existent, for the first time in Nairobi's history, I think). I was just wondering what I was going to do with myself for three hours (the Nairobi airport is not filled with bookstores or shops or anything really, except people offering to get you a taxi or safari), when I heard my name. At the time I was wearing my Earthwatch t-shirt (which my mother kindly sent to me across the ocean), not because I wanted to advertise where I was going or what I would be doing, but because it was absolutely the only thing I had that was clean. (I’d just gotten back from a week’s safari at that point.) So I was pretty easy to spot. I looked up and saw a somewhat bedraggled (jetlagged) older white couple looking at me, so I wandered their way, and yes, they were Earthwatchers, too. (My first thought was “Of course… because everything I do seems to involve people 20-40 years my senior.”) They were a couple from San Francisco, who were doing their third Earthwatch trip. We spent the three hours together, finding a little restaurant and getting to know each other. (They immediately became my favorite people in Kenya when they gave me their copy of the Sunday NYTimes Crossword puzzle. I gobbled that down much like I did the chocolate bar that I had just yesterday for the first time in ages.) We spotted another guy who was travelling alone as a possible Earthwatcher, but I decided he was much too young to be on the trip (he seemed to be about my age). When our flight arrived in Malindi and we were met by our leaders, it turns out that this child WAS actually on our trip. In fact, when we all gathered, there were LOADS (relatively speaking) of younger people. We had four Brits (all young… although one did turn out to be 49, but she looked young) and three Americans. (So I guess my taste in activities is appropriate for Brits my age, or retired Americans… Not sure what that says.) We had two Kenya leaders, who were fantastically nice, but one was unfortunately named Lucy, so I spent 11 days thinking people were talking to me and asking me questions I couldn’t possibly answer.
Until then I had been surprised at the reputation that Africa had of being hot. I had been on the EQUATOR, for god’s sake, and hadn’t broken a sweat. I assumed it had something to do with it being the Short Rains (although it almost never rained). And then I got to the coast. To sea level. Apparently everywhere else I’d been had been quite elevated, and therefore cool. Not so any more. Hot and humid and sunny and filled with really nasty malaria-bearing mosquitoes. Good times! The Brits all promptly started to melt. (An aside—as if everything I write isn’t an aside already—Let’s say you were among the pastiest people on the planet and you were going to a spot that was near the equator and hot and sunny, and you were going to be outside all day. Now, let’s say you need to choose a malaria pill to take while in this environment. Would you take the one that makes you sensitive to the sun??? Three of the four of them were doing just that. Seemed a bit odd to me, but whatever.)
The place we were staying (in Watamu at the Mwamba Bird Reasearch Field Station, although I never saw one birder—or bird for that matter—while I was there) was fantastic. It was very simple… three of us shared a room (of course, I was with Lucy!) with an attached toilet (that sort of worked) and shower (that did have hot water, I discovered three days later… but didn’t use much because I was so damned hot anyway!), and we all ate together with bowls of stew or rice and beans balanced on our knees. The beach was just down a short path, and the sand was white and ocean green and blue. Not too shabby. And not an Italian in sight! (They were all further down the beach at the resorts.)
Our days entailed getting up at 6 (which, believe it or not, I did without much of a fuss… but don’t fret, this will NOT be continued in my normal life!) and being in the van at 6:45, so we could start chasing the monkeys at 7. AM. In the morning. (Those of you who know me well, why don’t you go splash some cold water on your face.) We then had to track through the woods (next to some ruins) for up to an hour trying to find the monkeys. (I was on a team which studied the monkeys whose range included the office, so sometimes we saw them as we pulled up.) Once we found said monkeys, we had to find one that we would be able to identify as it moved through the woods. (I usually used the tail… I wasn’t so good at using their nipples to ID them.) As we followed the monkey, we had to record what it did every minute for half an hour (we had a watch that beeped every minute… I wondered if this wasn’t actually a study of US to see if we could be conditioned to respond to beeps). We also had to note what the monkey was eating, and if it pooped, we had to either mark it with a flag, or pick it up (much like walking a dog), so that they could look for seeds in it. (The focus of the study had shifted from “the effects of human encroachment upon the stressors levels of sykes monkeys”—say THAT three times fast!—to seed dispersal of provisioned vs. non-provisioned monkeys. (Mine were the provisioned group, and boy could they move fast when they heard a bus of tourists coming to visit the ruins!)
Chasing monkeys was easy when they were resting (the males were particularly good at this), but when they were in the canopy and you were in the brush it was a bit harder. We were warned to look down a lot to make sure that we weren't standing in a line of safari ants (a line being about two inches wide!) or about to step on a snake (puff adders and green mambas were especially to be avoided). The leaders said that the monkeys would tell us if there was a snake near by. One day Lucy called out to us to see where we were, because our monkeys were making the "There's a snake right there" chatter, but we didn't recognize it. They chatter and all circle around and look at the snake. (That day it was a puff adder.) I did recognize the chatter on our last day when they all started chattering and looking pretty much directly at my feet. Needless to say I froze, and was relieved when they nipped to a point about 10 feet behind me and circled up. (It was another puff adder.) We also spotted a couple of green mambas (so beautiful) climbing up in the trees, but the monkeys weren't worried about them.
We did these morning and afternoon, day in and day out. (At some point during the trip I decided that I was glad I had never taken a biology class.) We had two afternoons off (I did some snorkeling at the reef just off where we were staying one of those days), and we also had the weekend off. Four of the seven went on safari to Tsavo, but I was kind of safari-ed out, so I stayed behind with two others. We had a lovely weekend though. On Saturday we went to the snake farm and found out just how many poisonous snakes were in the woods with us (but don’t worry, because they made anti-venom there), and then had a nice dinner. The walk back from dinner in the dark was kind of amusing, for every twig, oil spot, or anything else that my two companions saw sent them into hysterics. Well, mostly just the guy from the plane, who did admit that he was a tremendous scaredy cat. (Of course, he was the one who had a snake fall on his head in the woods!) On Sunday, I spent a glorious day doing nothing but reading my book and swimming in the sea. (Not bad for late November!)
We never did get to find out what the results of all of our hard work was, because as we were about to be given a presentation on the computer, the power went out. (Again.) So we crunched the numbers that we could, and then just hung out for the last few hours before we all parted ways.
I went down to Mombasa with two others (driven by Sammy, our faithful driver, who was quite a character! He wants to be mayor of Malindi someday. I think he already IS running the seacoast), ditched them at the airport, and then I was dropped off at the train station for the overnight train back to Nairobi. (One of the hottest experiences of my life.) The train (and I mean THE train) goes from Mombasa to Nairobi every other day, and it is a 15 hour journey. (The Brits we dropped at the airport in Mombasa were already in bed in London by the time I got off the train.) I took first class (because when else will I be able to afford first class?), so had a fancy (Kenya fancy) dinner and breakfast, and a bed all made up for me. I had a compartment to myself, and possibly even a whole carriage to myself… I had been in a carriage with other (white) people, but the porter decided my room was “no good” so moved me to the next carriage, which seemed empty. I’m guessing he didn’t like the security in the first compartment, because he then gave me strict instructions on how to lock the door from the inside and to close the window when I went to sleep (hence it being so damned hot), so that no one could climb in (the train moved along slower than the vehicles on the road next to us, and stopped about every half our all night long, so it would be totally possible for someone to climb aboard). I actually slept relatively well, and had a pleasant journey.
Coming into Nairobi we drove through one of the shanty towns, which finally got to me. When I first arrived in Kenya I was amazed at how people lived, but it quickly became commonplace and seemed normal. But going through the slums, seeing children in rags lined up along the tracks, with huge smiles and happily waving to us, brought tears to my eyes as I wondered about this crazy world we live in.
I'll try to get some pictures up at some point (but not in this country, apparently!).
I spent the last 11 days on the coast of Kenya (honestly, I didn't even know Kenya HAD a coast, and certainly never realized what a tourist hot-spot it was, especially with the Italians. Kids would smile and wave to our bus and say "Ciao!") doing my Earthwatch Monkey Chasing trip (I think it was officially called Kenya's Forest Monkeys or something unexciting like that). THANK YOU to those who made contributions to my trip and helped make it possible for me to go there. Know that your money was well spent (or donated rather), and that I was the Queen Monkey chaser (dubbed thus by myself, just this second... my fellow monkey chasers might choose to disagree, but I'm banking on them losing my blog address before they read this).
This will likely be a long post detailing all the exciting things that the monkeys did for 11 days ("Resting.... Resting... Resting... Moving..."), so get a cup of something warm (for I think most of you are in cold weather places, unlike me!) and settle in for a good long read.
The Earthwatch trip began when I arrived at the Nairobi airport three hours before my flight to the coast (traffic was totally non-existent, for the first time in Nairobi's history, I think). I was just wondering what I was going to do with myself for three hours (the Nairobi airport is not filled with bookstores or shops or anything really, except people offering to get you a taxi or safari), when I heard my name. At the time I was wearing my Earthwatch t-shirt (which my mother kindly sent to me across the ocean), not because I wanted to advertise where I was going or what I would be doing, but because it was absolutely the only thing I had that was clean. (I’d just gotten back from a week’s safari at that point.) So I was pretty easy to spot. I looked up and saw a somewhat bedraggled (jetlagged) older white couple looking at me, so I wandered their way, and yes, they were Earthwatchers, too. (My first thought was “Of course… because everything I do seems to involve people 20-40 years my senior.”) They were a couple from San Francisco, who were doing their third Earthwatch trip. We spent the three hours together, finding a little restaurant and getting to know each other. (They immediately became my favorite people in Kenya when they gave me their copy of the Sunday NYTimes Crossword puzzle. I gobbled that down much like I did the chocolate bar that I had just yesterday for the first time in ages.) We spotted another guy who was travelling alone as a possible Earthwatcher, but I decided he was much too young to be on the trip (he seemed to be about my age). When our flight arrived in Malindi and we were met by our leaders, it turns out that this child WAS actually on our trip. In fact, when we all gathered, there were LOADS (relatively speaking) of younger people. We had four Brits (all young… although one did turn out to be 49, but she looked young) and three Americans. (So I guess my taste in activities is appropriate for Brits my age, or retired Americans… Not sure what that says.) We had two Kenya leaders, who were fantastically nice, but one was unfortunately named Lucy, so I spent 11 days thinking people were talking to me and asking me questions I couldn’t possibly answer.
Until then I had been surprised at the reputation that Africa had of being hot. I had been on the EQUATOR, for god’s sake, and hadn’t broken a sweat. I assumed it had something to do with it being the Short Rains (although it almost never rained). And then I got to the coast. To sea level. Apparently everywhere else I’d been had been quite elevated, and therefore cool. Not so any more. Hot and humid and sunny and filled with really nasty malaria-bearing mosquitoes. Good times! The Brits all promptly started to melt. (An aside—as if everything I write isn’t an aside already—Let’s say you were among the pastiest people on the planet and you were going to a spot that was near the equator and hot and sunny, and you were going to be outside all day. Now, let’s say you need to choose a malaria pill to take while in this environment. Would you take the one that makes you sensitive to the sun??? Three of the four of them were doing just that. Seemed a bit odd to me, but whatever.)
The place we were staying (in Watamu at the Mwamba Bird Reasearch Field Station, although I never saw one birder—or bird for that matter—while I was there) was fantastic. It was very simple… three of us shared a room (of course, I was with Lucy!) with an attached toilet (that sort of worked) and shower (that did have hot water, I discovered three days later… but didn’t use much because I was so damned hot anyway!), and we all ate together with bowls of stew or rice and beans balanced on our knees. The beach was just down a short path, and the sand was white and ocean green and blue. Not too shabby. And not an Italian in sight! (They were all further down the beach at the resorts.)
Our days entailed getting up at 6 (which, believe it or not, I did without much of a fuss… but don’t fret, this will NOT be continued in my normal life!) and being in the van at 6:45, so we could start chasing the monkeys at 7. AM. In the morning. (Those of you who know me well, why don’t you go splash some cold water on your face.) We then had to track through the woods (next to some ruins) for up to an hour trying to find the monkeys. (I was on a team which studied the monkeys whose range included the office, so sometimes we saw them as we pulled up.) Once we found said monkeys, we had to find one that we would be able to identify as it moved through the woods. (I usually used the tail… I wasn’t so good at using their nipples to ID them.) As we followed the monkey, we had to record what it did every minute for half an hour (we had a watch that beeped every minute… I wondered if this wasn’t actually a study of US to see if we could be conditioned to respond to beeps). We also had to note what the monkey was eating, and if it pooped, we had to either mark it with a flag, or pick it up (much like walking a dog), so that they could look for seeds in it. (The focus of the study had shifted from “the effects of human encroachment upon the stressors levels of sykes monkeys”—say THAT three times fast!—to seed dispersal of provisioned vs. non-provisioned monkeys. (Mine were the provisioned group, and boy could they move fast when they heard a bus of tourists coming to visit the ruins!)
Chasing monkeys was easy when they were resting (the males were particularly good at this), but when they were in the canopy and you were in the brush it was a bit harder. We were warned to look down a lot to make sure that we weren't standing in a line of safari ants (a line being about two inches wide!) or about to step on a snake (puff adders and green mambas were especially to be avoided). The leaders said that the monkeys would tell us if there was a snake near by. One day Lucy called out to us to see where we were, because our monkeys were making the "There's a snake right there" chatter, but we didn't recognize it. They chatter and all circle around and look at the snake. (That day it was a puff adder.) I did recognize the chatter on our last day when they all started chattering and looking pretty much directly at my feet. Needless to say I froze, and was relieved when they nipped to a point about 10 feet behind me and circled up. (It was another puff adder.) We also spotted a couple of green mambas (so beautiful) climbing up in the trees, but the monkeys weren't worried about them.
We did these morning and afternoon, day in and day out. (At some point during the trip I decided that I was glad I had never taken a biology class.) We had two afternoons off (I did some snorkeling at the reef just off where we were staying one of those days), and we also had the weekend off. Four of the seven went on safari to Tsavo, but I was kind of safari-ed out, so I stayed behind with two others. We had a lovely weekend though. On Saturday we went to the snake farm and found out just how many poisonous snakes were in the woods with us (but don’t worry, because they made anti-venom there), and then had a nice dinner. The walk back from dinner in the dark was kind of amusing, for every twig, oil spot, or anything else that my two companions saw sent them into hysterics. Well, mostly just the guy from the plane, who did admit that he was a tremendous scaredy cat. (Of course, he was the one who had a snake fall on his head in the woods!) On Sunday, I spent a glorious day doing nothing but reading my book and swimming in the sea. (Not bad for late November!)
We never did get to find out what the results of all of our hard work was, because as we were about to be given a presentation on the computer, the power went out. (Again.) So we crunched the numbers that we could, and then just hung out for the last few hours before we all parted ways.
I went down to Mombasa with two others (driven by Sammy, our faithful driver, who was quite a character! He wants to be mayor of Malindi someday. I think he already IS running the seacoast), ditched them at the airport, and then I was dropped off at the train station for the overnight train back to Nairobi. (One of the hottest experiences of my life.) The train (and I mean THE train) goes from Mombasa to Nairobi every other day, and it is a 15 hour journey. (The Brits we dropped at the airport in Mombasa were already in bed in London by the time I got off the train.) I took first class (because when else will I be able to afford first class?), so had a fancy (Kenya fancy) dinner and breakfast, and a bed all made up for me. I had a compartment to myself, and possibly even a whole carriage to myself… I had been in a carriage with other (white) people, but the porter decided my room was “no good” so moved me to the next carriage, which seemed empty. I’m guessing he didn’t like the security in the first compartment, because he then gave me strict instructions on how to lock the door from the inside and to close the window when I went to sleep (hence it being so damned hot), so that no one could climb in (the train moved along slower than the vehicles on the road next to us, and stopped about every half our all night long, so it would be totally possible for someone to climb aboard). I actually slept relatively well, and had a pleasant journey.
Coming into Nairobi we drove through one of the shanty towns, which finally got to me. When I first arrived in Kenya I was amazed at how people lived, but it quickly became commonplace and seemed normal. But going through the slums, seeing children in rags lined up along the tracks, with huge smiles and happily waving to us, brought tears to my eyes as I wondered about this crazy world we live in.
I'll try to get some pictures up at some point (but not in this country, apparently!).
Travails
Well, here is the travails part of "Lucie's travels (and travails?)". I was completely oblivious to everything going on in the world (as opposed to my normal state of obliviousness) for quite a while, being in the middle of nowhere in Africa with no internet or newspaper, when one day we got to go to an internet cafe. I had a somewhat panicked message from a contact in Bangkok, saying she was sure I knew about the situation there and it was really quite serious and would I still be coming?
Um, what???
A few quick emails to my brother assured me it wasn't so bad there. Six days later I finally got to see a newspaper, and looked immediately to see what the situation was. Protesters had taken over the airports, and Thailand appeared to be closed until December 15th.
Um, WHAT??????
I actually remained surprisingly calm, for really, what could I do about it? I called the travel agent and left a message, and got a call back saying that the airline still had my flight scheduled, and they expected the airport to be open by then.
In line at the Mombasa train station last night, there was an Aussie in front of me who was talking to my same airline, and they said all was well, so I relaxed. Good thing I didn't chuck the Thailand guidebook and buy a Viet Nam one (which was about to become Plan B).
So I guess it isn't really a travail yet. It's all one big adventure!
(By the way, again, don't tell my mother! I am, of course, assuming she can't figure out how to actually read my blog...)
Um, what???
A few quick emails to my brother assured me it wasn't so bad there. Six days later I finally got to see a newspaper, and looked immediately to see what the situation was. Protesters had taken over the airports, and Thailand appeared to be closed until December 15th.
Um, WHAT??????
I actually remained surprisingly calm, for really, what could I do about it? I called the travel agent and left a message, and got a call back saying that the airline still had my flight scheduled, and they expected the airport to be open by then.
In line at the Mombasa train station last night, there was an Aussie in front of me who was talking to my same airline, and they said all was well, so I relaxed. Good thing I didn't chuck the Thailand guidebook and buy a Viet Nam one (which was about to become Plan B).
So I guess it isn't really a travail yet. It's all one big adventure!
(By the way, again, don't tell my mother! I am, of course, assuming she can't figure out how to actually read my blog...)
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