We last left us in Africa at lunch time, and me asking everyone, “are you going to finish that?”
This is Nick saying “No, Nicole, for the last time, you can’t have the rest of my lunch.”
I remember Liza and Eddie, our drivers, were going pretty fast and not stopping much from this point on. Evidently we had a lot of ground to cover. We were traveling from Tarangire to the Serengeti.
We stopped for Liza and Eddie to pay entrance into the Ngorongoro conservation area on the way to Serengeti National park, and hung out with some Baboons who were chillin’ in the parking lot.
Oh, you think they’re close now. This isn’t the time the monkey got in the car. Though, on the way back from the bathroom, I did have to move aside for a Baboon to walk by. He gave me that, ‘I’m not moving over, sister, so you’d better’ look. Since he lives in Africa and I don’t, I gave him the right of way.
I include this picture because this is exactly how I sit when I sit in trees. One leg up. It’s the only way really, and lets others know that you’re willing to give them a leg up in life, which is a desirable personality trait.
We climbed back in our cars and headed on. It was amazing how many animals we saw. The horizon was thick with herds. Liza told us that the herds follow the rains.
Right before we entered Serengeti National park Liza and Eddie pulled into and stopped at a Massai village. They told us that the Masai were open to sharing their culture with tourists, and that we would get to see their traditional dance and get a tour of the village.
Before we got out of the cars we could already hear the Masai singing. The men and women stood in separate groups. They seemed to take turns singing. The leader of the song would sing out a line and the rest of the group would repeat it in harmony.
Someone would step into the center and jump up and down. The landing made a loud beat to accompany the song. Here are the ladies:
After we listened to them sing, a Masai warrior welcomed us and split us up into groups to tour the village. Mark and I went with the Chief’s son. First, he led us to a small hut. He told us it was made by the Masai women. It was constructed of sticks and had a roof of cow dung, though I don’t remember it smelling like dung. Upon his invitation, we stooped down, ducked through a narrow and curved channel that opened up into a small dark space not quite tall enough in which to stand.
He invited us to have a seat (I’m not quite sure what I sat on, it was dark, but I hope I didn’t break it) and he then explained a little bit about Masai culture. He told us they only eat meat, milk and blood. His people know nothing of vegetables, the are traditionally nomadic, so they do not grow crops. His accent was thick, but I was able to understand everything he said. He told us the Masai men spend their time out of the village hunting and the women stay in the village and tend the children and cook.
Nick got to visit the school and see the kids.
I, however, did not get to see the school. The chief’s son took us right into the center of the village where there was a bunch of jewelry hanging from stick fences arranged in a circle. He immediately tried to sell us stuff. Somehow or another Mark got away, and I picked up a following of ladies. I
was interested in getting something, and all the blue beads looked absolutely stunning. I asked the Chief’s son “How do you say beautiful?” He gave me a funny look “in Masai” I added. He got a big smile “eh-bla.” I repeated it to the ladies. The all smiled. The chief’s son started putting bracelets on my wrists. “oh, ebla” I say. I wanted to let them know I liked the blue stuff. “How do you say blue?” Big smile “oh, ahm-boos. yes” “Ambus” I start saying to the ladies and pointing at the jewelry. They catch on. Soon every blue thing is being placed on my body. I ask another question: “How do you say, Thank you?” “A-sheh” he tells me. “Ashe, Ashe” I tell the ladies.
We work our way around the circle as I get heavier by the minute. Finally I ask, “how much?” And then begins the most stressful haggling of my life. I had been told to half whatever price they tell you, and oh man, I tried that. I could not get the chief’s son down to save my life. More and more women surround, I think there are 8 or 9 now. At one point I had to get my money our of my pocket, I only had a couple of 20 dollar bills. I couldn’t hide both from them as I pulled out my money. Big mistake. I don’t think the guy ever dropped his price and now he wanted that 40 bucks. He wanted me to buy two bracelets, one big, one small for $40. “Only one” I would say. The price was too steep, and he had never come down on his price. I don’t even spend that much on jewelry in the US. All I know is at some point I felt like running away screaming and at some point I went to finally hand over a $20 and realized one was gone. I looked around, somehow the chief’s son already had it (I must have desperately handed it to someone in the hopes to just get out of there) and he was about to let me hand another 20. He broke into a big smile. By now I was having an anxiety attack. I think Angie saw my troubles and somehow got me out of there. I practically ran to the car.
IN my defense, it was my first time ever haggling experience, I was surrounded by 10 people on all sides, covered in jewelry and wanted to be nice. Just not a good combo. Also, I later found out that Nick’s Dad had given them a huge tip right after the dancing, so I think that Chief’s son figured I was rolling in it. Angie told me later that when she said she didn’t have enough money he said “you, go ask father. he give you.” I was doomed. But I got a nice, very authentic and hard earned bracelet. Blue. Ambus. Ashe.
Annnnd, Here we are at the Serengeti visitor’s center.
We took a short short hike to the top of this hill while our drivers paid to get in once again.
And back to the cars.
The Masai aren’t allowed to live inside Serengeti National Park. You could no longer see villiages or children tending herds. It was just wildlife. It was so incredible to be the only 11 people as far as the eye could see. We would pass a car maybe every 30 minutes. We had the top up despite our speed and most of the time I stood with my head peaking over the front with the wind tearing at my face. I’ve never felt anything like it, and once again I’m sad that I’m not a better writer. You’ll just have to go to Africa on Safari if you want to know what it felt like.
The weather turned cool, and most of my pictures of the Serengeti are blurred from the speed of the car.
Amazingly enough our guides managed to spot some lions, um, lying around.
A Coptic. Pride rock.
We spot a hyena. Can you see him?
There he is.
We raced the sunset to our camp for the night. Evidently cars aren’t allowed out in the Serengeti after sunset. Who knows why. Once again as we pulled up to our camp, the
Dunia Tented Camp of Serengeti, men were there with fresh scented towels for our faces and fresh fruit juices.
Here we are signing papers again saying that we know there aren’t any fences and that we might die.
Guides escorted us to our tents and then ran to get buckets of hot water for our showers. Dunia is a mobile camp and therefore no running water. It was rather amusing to be in your tent, hear the hurried footsteps of guide run up, then the sound of some scraping and grunts, water splashing, then “Karibu, your shower!” Karibu is Swahili for welcome. Lots of sentences start with Karibu. I yelled out the proper response thru the tent: “Asante!"
Thank you! He yells back “Karibu sana!”
You’re very welcome. His hurried footsteps as he leaves.
After our real bucket showers we were escorted back to the fire for more mango and passion fruit juice and lime guacamole and chips. Very tasty.
Peter, our host, arrived to invite us to dinner where our chef announced the meal. It was lamb, vegetables, and mashed potatoes.
There was a family from Australia staying there with us and I spent most of dinner soaking up the mother’s amazing accent. This lady was beautifully on Safari. She had on a white linen shirt and pant set and a gorgeous shawl wrapped around her shoulders that just seemed so appropriate for the occasion. Her son, 13 year old joseph, told us he had seen a cheetah take down a wildebeast in the Serengeti. He was pretty amped. His guide told him that it was very, very, rare to see, and that he had known professional photographers spend months in the Serengeti trying to witness something like that.
Would
we see a cheetah the next day? You’ll find out next time.
Is this the first time we’ve seen lions? I think so. Don’t worry, you’ll see more later. 
