Blog 3

Today is Tuesday, June 17, 1:30 p.m. I have had NO time to update this
info and we have had no internet service until now. I will send what I
have and update later.

Also, if it is confusing to some, there are 3 Kathy's, 1 Catherine and
1 Katie on this safari. This contributor is Kathy Ochs, but we have to
go through Br. Chuck's email address, so it looks like it comes from
him.

So much has happened since the entry at the end of this blog. I will
catch up later.

Friday, June 13, 9:30 p.m.

We are staying tonight in cabins, having just completed two hard days
of travel and amazing experiences in parts of Kenya where few white
people journey. Before explaining that, however, I will pick up from
the Samburu safari.

We saw our LION! She was a beauty and she posed for us for nearly 20
minutes before sauntering off. We followed her for a ways, thinking
she might lead us to more lions (namely her cubs), but no such luck.
We were fortunate to have such a long time for photo opportunities.

The guides from all the safari groups at Samburu this day were
frustrated that they did not spot lions on their own, so they worked
together to notify each other by CB radio where the lion was. There
were at least 10 vans of people gathered to see one lion. She seemed
oblivious to all the attention.

We also saw more crocodile, elephants, zebras and many other animals.

There are many checkpoints in Kenya -- police checkpoints along the
roadways, park police checkpoints to get into and out of the parks.
Gathered at some of the checkpoints are the street vendors who clamor
to our vans to peddle their trinkets. They are everywhere -- everyone
seems to be a businessman. "Please, mama, necklace (bracelet, carved
animal, spear, etc.)? We are just trying to make our living!"

A major reason for the checkpoints, we understand, is to regulate the
number of passengers in the taxi vans. People are crammed in there
like the proverbial sardines!

As we check out of the Samburu gate, we leave our vans and our driver,
and board trucks for the next leg of the journey. The trucks are huge
Mitsubishi, heavy-duty vehicles. We are comforted when we board and
find bus seats as our leaders have warned us we could be riding on
benches!

Sunday, June 15, 7 a.m.

It has been difficult to find the time and/or place to continue my
blogs and to get them on line. So this jumps again.

We have spent the first of three nights in Nakuru, a bustling city,
the 4th largest in Kenya. It will be good not to pack up and move for
a few days. We returned to our vans yesterday after a grueling 3 days
in the northland. It is a challenge to summarize our experiences there
for the blog. I will try to keep it short.

We have been places where few white people have been. In fact, one of
our leaders, Br. Francis, thinks that we are the only white folks ever
to stop in one village. Some young men of the village who are students
at the Brothers' school in Marsabit, joined us to give us a tour of
the village.

We divided into groups for visits to the homes of the locals. Picture
round houses made entirely of sticks. The door is quite narrow and
difficult for us well-fed Americans to maneuver through. The entire
house is not as big as a walk-in closet in many US homes. It has some
division for rooms -- sleeping area, kitchen. The entire family sleeps
on the floor on skins. This particular home I was in has mom, dad and
two babies. There are two wives for the husband, but the second wife
(a pregnant 13-year-old) has her own house, I believe. We meet her on
our way out of the compound. She is dressed in native garb and smiles
shyly as she sakes our hands. The men of this tribe, Rendille, can
have three wives.

Our guide is a young man named Joshua who is soft-spoken and shy but
very kind and proud to show us around. He answers our questions and
provides commentary. He is a first form student, a freshman, at the
school. The woman in the house is his aunt. Joshua is one of 7
children, the middle one and the only one who has or will go to school.

We ask Joshua how he was so fortunate to go to school and he tells us,
"You have to want it in your heart." It is a moving commentary on his
desire for education.

At this point in our journey we have found "where the sidewalk ends."
We have run out of pavement -- picture the ruttiest, roughest country
road you have ever traveled and you are not even close to road
conditions we encounter over the next few days.

We spend about an hour in Marsabit Town, roaming through the market
which are rough-hewn stalls where merchants sell their wares. It is
dusty and littered with castoff trash. Here and there a goat roams
freely. We have been warned by an irate local not to take photos here.
Actually, I think if we wanted to pay him, he would have arranged some
photo ops. We opt out of photos. Joshua is still our guide -- he
carries a bag containing a pair of tan shoes which he is taking to the
shoe shop for dying. The school requires black shoes. The dyer
requires the money up front. Joshua has none so we provide the 150
shillings, about $2.50, The shoes are black before we leave Marsabit.

St. Paul Secondary School is our next stop for a nice tour and the
evening meal. There are about 190 students there. A tour of the
facility shows a clean and inviting learning environment. That evening
we are treated to a fine meal, including goat and other native dishes,
and then the young men entertain us with examples of their tribal
dances. What a treat. They are so eager and so proud!

Br. Michael is joining our group and he tells us the next that that
the boys asked why we were leaving as we departed that night.

I have lost track of actual days, but the next day is primarily
travel, again over even rougher roads. The ruts are knee-deep, there
are washouts, huge rocks, it is indescribable. We are headed to Lake
Turkana where the oldest of human remains has been found. We will
visit a mission and the village there and stay the night.

Along the way we see exotic and domestic animals and their herders.
There are villages of huts out in the middle of no where. The people
subsist on ... I don't know how they can live here. They find water
somewhere, they eat eggs from their chickens, drink goat milk. It is
amazing. They wave to us. I don't think they see many people outside
of their tribes.

Our stay at the mission is interesting. A walk into the village
provides more of the same panhandling and business transactions. We
have dinner that evening and then pitch a tent in a windy tunnel for
the night. We do not have to fear mosquitos here because there is a
constant wind. It is not a restful night. (At this point I think -- It
is a good thing none of our friends agreed to join us for this trip!)

We are eager to depart this area the next day, but we are still on
bumpy roads. However, the end is in sight as our vans are picking us
up in another town and then staying with us. We will also meet the
pavement soon.

Will catch up later.

Kathy O.