Exodus

Above are pictures from the wildebeest crossing I witnessed at the Mara River.

Warning: this will be a very long post, but read it as it was an amazing experience.

I just got back this afternoon from visiting the Masai Mara. I went back with one purpose and only one intent - to see the world's mightiest migration of animals. It was the Great East African Migration, an exodus, where the animals move up from Tanzania, cross into Kenya, then cross the Mara River in search of better grazing pastures.

The initial drive into the park was basically the same as the previous time I was there, plenty of lions, elephants, and gazelle. It wasn't until we had driven something like two hours into the depths of the parks that I saw what I came for. After rounding a bend in the road, I asked the guide, Wambua, where we were going, because it seemed like we were in the middle of no where and there had been no animals insight for a while. He leaned back and said, "We're going there," then he pointed towards a far off black mass in the middle of the grassland. To me it looked like a cluster of trees, but when I concentrated on it for a while I quickly realized that what I thought were a cluster of trees were moving. These were the herds from Tanzania.

As we drove closer I could clearly see the separate herds, all with their heads down, eating until they got their fill. It's weird because I always thought the migration was one large group of animals, but really it's a bunch of herds that move together through the region, not together through the same specific area.

Every which way I looked I'd see herds and groups of animals. Some numbered in the hundreds and many numbered well into the 1,000+ range. I never thought I'd see this in my entire life. Animals in every direction. Valley after valley held thousands and tens of thousands of animals. It's simply unbelieveable. Each turn we drove around showed more animals, each hill we topped uncovered more animals, and when you thought there couldn't be any animals left, there are thousands more.

The herds that make up the Great Migration are borken up into groupings, but when you get high up on a hill or ridge and look out over the valley, you realize it's one enormous herd that's blanketing the grassland. It's like nothing else I've ever seen and completely unbelieveable. My words hardily do it justice.

Seeing all these animals was great, but the real prize is to see a herd cross the Mara River. So we headed to the river and on out way, very near to the river we saw a grouping that numbered close to one thousand. We stopped, watched, then proceeded on our way to the river. Along the way we saw more and more wildebeest. More animals everywhere. This was to be the herd I photographed above.

We got to the river, crossed it, and went to the ranger station. There we met a ranger named Joseph. Joseph said that he thought they may cross that day. I was hoping they would do so, and maybe five minutes later they started to. They went to the right of the bridge, got half way down, but no sooner did they do this then a hippo came up out of the water and scared them all back. Wildebeest, when it comes to a river crossing, are very scared and jumpy. So, they went to the left side of the bridge and attempted to cross, and as my guide Wambua said, "The best part about wildebeest crossing the river is that they always go the worse way."

Sure enough, they went the worst possible way. Joseph took me and my fellow travelers, 10 total of us, on foot to watch the crossing. We hid behind a rock, so as to not alert and scare the animals before they crossed. We sat there and just watched them fill the far shoreline.

Watching was great. The wildebeest filled the shore and just stood there. They looked around anxious, nervous, calculating, and very, very scared. They kept cycling through. Some would leave the shore, just to have their position filled by more. I really didn't think they would go, then the greatest thing I've ever seen happened. I watched one walk down and just jump in the river. As soon as the first had gone, the crossing was on. Within seconds, the rest followed and the river was filled with wildebeest.

When the first crossed and came out I was so thrilled because I was getting to see the migration. However, I had no idea how badly we were positioned. We were standing on foot right in their way, yet slightly above them on a rock. Joseph, the ranger, yelled, "Quickly, get on the rocks!" We all jumped up, and I looked backward to see all the rest of the wildebeest streaming by. Once they came out of the river they ran left and right of us. A few even tried coming up and over the rocks we were on, only to have their feet slip. When their footing gave way they tumbled down again to the river shore, taking out other wildebeest as they went.

It lasted over ten minutes and it was the greatest thing I've ever seen. Hundreds crossed at a time. They feared and struggled for their lives as they did so. Here I was watching the whole thing, standing on a rock, just a few feet above the action with my friends, watching the greatest migration on planet Earth take place, and completely surrounded by terrified wildebeest. I, honestly, can't even explain it. All I can say was it was the greatest thing I've ever seen and been apart of.

In total, something like 4,000 wildebeest crossed in front of us. Unfortunately, none were eaten by crocodiles and none drowned, but it was still wild to see. Joseph told us afterward that they hadn't seen a crossing in nearly two weeks, and that we were lucky to see one, especially on foot.

If I'm ever asked what the greatest thing I've ever see was, I won't say Great White sharks in South Africa, or the Redwood tree, I'll say, "The Great Exodus. The migration of East Africa."

Take care.

Jordan

Me and Loocy

The top photo is of my cottage at the ranch. The bottom photo is of the Range Rover, Loocy, that I cruise around in.

I am now down in Athi River, just south of Nairobi, at the Hopcraft Ranch. After staying here for just a few days, I really regret ever even going to Nakuru. The ranch is so much better. Let me list the ways:

First, I have my own cottage in the middle of an open grassland, and every morning when I wake up, like clockwork, I look out my window and see giraffes just walking by and browsing on the acacia trees. It's amazing to witness and no matter how many time I see it, I never get tired of the view.

Secondly, I have my own vehicle, Loocy. It belongs to Phil the ranch manager here. It is an old Range Rover, which has been transformed from its original shell into an off-road beast of a machine. It's not the fastest or sleekest car in the world, but it is amazingly smooth, powerful, and I'm quite sure I'll never get stuck somewhere while driving it.

Thirdly, I have things to do here. It's not like Nakuru where the highlight of my day was going to the internet cafe for an hour then going to lunch. At the ranch I actually have projects to work on. Right now, I'm working on a water diversion system that takes dirty water, runs it through some pipes and trenches, then at the other end it comes out clean. At least that's the plan.

Fourthly, at the ranch I don't have to worry about little street kids, that are high out of their minds from huffing glue, beg me for money. It was always so sad in Nakuru to see the kids that were in that position, yet so many of them had chances to go to school. Instead, they ran away to the streets.

Finally, the people at the ranch are so great and kind. I'm always welcome where ever they are. In fact, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday we all sit down and watch this Spanish soap opera called Storm in Paradise. It's dubbed over in English and completely ridiculous. I love sitting there with 8 or 9 Kenyans watching a show that's dubbed over so poorly. It's so funny.

So with that being said, I will spend the last three weeks of my time in Kenya with Loocy and the African wild. Me and Loocy cruising across the savanna.

Take care.

Jordan

Unknown Names

The above picture is of the wall that commemorates all the victims of the 1998 attack on US embassy in Nairobi. The bottom picture is of the inscription in the center of the wall.

I've been down in Nairobi the last couple of days. I went down there just to see the city and because I didn't have much to do in Nakuru. While down in Nairob,i I went on a walk through the town center with Wambua, he's my guide/Kenyan friend. While walking, we turned the corner and to the right was a very tall iron fence that was covered with vegetation. He turned around and said, "Do you want to go in?" I didn't know what it was and he realized this from the puzzled look on my face. He then said, "It's where the American embassy stood before it was destroyed in 1998."

There in the middle of downtown Nairobi, hidden behind an overgrown fence is the site of the August 7th, 1998 attack on the US embassy. More than 200 people had died there when terrorists drove a car bomb down into the below ground parking structure and detonated the charge, which killed so many. Inside the gates, there is a sculpture that was created from material that was found after the blast - wheels of an office chair, the fan of an air duct, and other easily recognizable objects. Then to the right of that is a huge wall with all the names of that fateful day's victims inscribed on it.

I don't know much of the history of this attack, as I was only twelve when it happened, so I don't know the background of why the attack was carried out or what the purpose of it was suppose to be on an international scale, but obviously it was aimed at the US government. The saddest thing about this terrible crime was that nearly all the names on that wall were those of Kenyans. So maybe the attack was carried out against the US, but those that paid the ultimate price were Kenyan.

While I stood there looking over the 200+ names, a young boy and his father walked up to the wall. The father, with the boy in hand, went straight for the first column on the left and pointed to the second name from the top. He leaned down, picked the boy up, and while pointing at the name he whispered something in the boy's ear. I have no idea what he said, but from what I saw I feel very sure that the name was some relation to the young child. Unfortunately, the attack was nearly eleven years ago and the boy could not of been older than ten. The name, to him, was unknown and unrecognizable - just a grouping of etched letters in a wall in downtown Nairobi.

It's tragic to think how quickly life can be robbed from a person, and though it happens all the time, seeing a reminder like this is acts like a wake up call.

My next post won't be this sad, but I wanted to share this experience.

Take care.

Jordan

Born on the 4th of July

The top picture is me with my host family, Momma and Papa Kena. The bottom picture is of our hotel on the Nile, The Sunset Hotel.

As promised I wanted to write a special post about our rafting trip down the mighty White Nile River. We rafted the river on the 4th of July. It was nearly the most ideal way to spend America's Independence.

If I could describe the experience with one sentence it would be, "A rush." Nothing makes you feel more alive and in the moment than rafting down a torrent of water, looking up, seeing a ten foot tall wall of water coming at you, slamming into that wall of water, being tossed around like a rag doll, and living to tell about it. It is over in just a matter of seconds, but after your boat has capsized and everyone has been dispersed into the water, you get this brief thought, just a fleeting moment really, when you think "maybe this wasn't a smart choice." It is an enormous rush, and when you pop up out of the water and look around realizing that you won't drown because of this rapid you feel oh so alive.

So in a sense, every time our boat flipped over and we breached the surface again, it was like being born on the 4th of July.

To capitalize on the whole 4th of July motif, a few things happened that made me feel right back in America. 1) While rafting we looked up and saw an eagle soaring over us. It was an African fish eagle, which looks very much like a bald eagle back in the states. 2) After rafting we ate a gigantic BBQ with grilled chicken, corn, potatoes, and some other tasty treats that would often be found back home. 3) In the truest sense of the American spirit, we explored that river and in the end conquered it. It was man v. nature at its best. We looked Mother Nature in the face and kicked her right in the vagina. Haha.

Well that is all I can really say about rafting. It was an experience that I'm sure I won't forget anytime soon.

Take care.

Jordan

By the way, the shirt I'm wearing in the above picture is a bit ridiculous, but it's so comfortable that I'll probably wear it all the time when I get home.

Africa's Aorta

The top photo is of Gandhi's shrine near the River Nile. The middle photo is of the River Nile taken from my hotel room, right as the sun was setting. The bottom picture is of me eating a fried tilapia on the bank of the Nile.

Last night, about 10 PM, I returned from Uganda. I spent four amazing days there. We traveled only to the city of Jinja, and it was well worth the eight hours that we spent in the van to get there. In Jinja, the biggest attraction is the Nile River. The source of the Nile River is located in there. It flows north out of Lake Victoria and ends 4,000 plus miles away in the Mediterranean Sea. It is the world's longest river, but what struck me as so amazing is that this is the same river that the Pharaohs of Ancient Egypt quenched their thirst with every day. So to see this river was amazing and hardily believable.

On Friday we went on a boat trip to the "Source of the Nile." There we saw where the water goes from being Lake Victoria to the Nile. We also saw and climbed atop the point where they measure the flow of water from the beginning of the Nile to the end of the river in Egypt. It takes roughly three months for the water to flow the entire length of the river. Near the Source of the Nile, we ate food, then went to a shrine that commemorates the spreading of Mahatma Gandhi's ashes. Apparently, when he died he was cremated and his ashes were sent to different locations all over the world - the Nile River was one of these locations. There I also saw the "Tree of Life." It is a lone tree located in the middle of the Nile on top of a small island. They call it the tree of life because they say the Nile supports much of Africa's life. In a sense it is the Aorta of Africa, always pumping life through this continent. After taking the tour of the Nile, some of the other volunteers and I went to the Nile View Casino in downtown Jinja. There I lost a bit of money, but also had a blast and with the exchange rate in Uganda being $1 = over 2000 Ugandan Shillings, I didn't lose much at all.

The next day, which was the 4th of July, I went white-water rafting down the Nile River. My next post will be solely dedicated to this feat.

My last day in Uganda I spent packing and preparing to come back here to Kenya. Before I left, I spent the morning swimming in the Nile River, with fisherman watching me. I'm sure they were thinking, "What is this white guy doing? This river is gross." However, it was not that terrible and I now can say I've swam in the world's largest river.

It was a great trip to Uganda and I'm sad that I only got to spend four days there. I would have loved to of spent more. It is a very beautiful country. The vegetation is lush and the landscape looks more like S. American than Africa. Here in Kenya it is always dusty and dry, but there it was nearly the complete opposite. Some day I hope to return and not only raft the Nile again, but also go to Northern Uganda and see the mountain gorillas that live there.

Take care.

Jordan