78uuu lumière des étoiles

Dusty:Starlight:Culture



Tanzania & Hiking
2008-08-29   12:03 p.m.

We-he-hell. We're back, and it's hard to categorize or characterize our experiences in a couple of words or a few choice phrases. Nevertheless, I will try, slowly, in this space and others.

We covered so much ground in Tanzania (and off the coast of Tanzania) that the weeks seemed to blur together. Yet when we were there, time dragged tremendously, especially during the times we found ourselves stranded in a few places. Food and fuel shortages do not make for easy independent travel; while Tanzania enjoys relative stability, their socialist history has made them overly trusting and therefore vulnerable to shady "foreign direct investment" deals. China is everywhere in Tanzania; white Southern Africans fleeing "black government" affirmative action policies are buying up Tanzanian and Zanzibari coastal properties, pipelines and manufacturing plants. Nowhere do I see any evidence this will benefit anyone but the Chinese and white Southern African corporate bigwigs. Ordinary - and even extraordinary - Tanzanians stand to reap little to no rewards for all this harvesting of their country, labor and capital, yet their government continues these transactions. FDI can be great if it's equitable and creates production and distribution opportunities for the local society, but I fear such opportunities are few and far between, and temporary at best. I do hope I'm extremely wrong and just being incredibly naive.

It's an odd paradox, considering one industry - tourism - has been handled so well in Tanzania. Relatively few touristy African countries have as many locally-owned Safari and tour operators as Tanzania. I was told by a British ex-pat how difficult it is to get an operator license to start up a tour company unless you're native-born. He was frustrated by that - understandably so - but also begrudgingly admitted that such policies have helped Tanzanians to benefit from industry opportunities rather than watching as foreigners squeeze them out of their own country's resources.

For the most part, the government engages in sustainable tourism development, but this is also full of paradox. Where stringent regulations are in place protecting porters (who are often exploited in many trekking spots around the world, from Peru to the Himalayas), many laws and industry regulations have adversely affected nomadic indigenous groups like the Masaai, who are beat further and further back as more parks or landing strips or hotels are built around the Serengeti and Ngorongoro crater.

It's weird to struggle with all of these things in such a short amount of time. We visited NGOs projects or IGO offices where we could, but mostly just walked around observing the cities or villages we'd find ourselves in. We did take some time out to do some extremely incredible things; breathtaking, surreal, i'm-glad-i'm-alive things.

One of those was climbing Mt. Meru, which we were under the impression was not at all difficult, cold, or technical like Kilimanjaro. We were extremely wrong.

Mt. Meru is the second highest mountain in Tanzania, and one of Africa's highest at 15,000 feet. It's surrounded by Arusha national park in the north of the country, and is usually traversed in a few days' "hike", with requisite stops at base-camps or huts along the way. Our first two days were challenging but lovely; walks through Arusha national park (with armed ranger - animals do roam around and we saw water buffalo, giraffe, monkey and various kudu-like creatures) lead to switchback trails and steps ascending the mountain.

After five hours hiking the first day, we stopped around 7,500 feet to sleep and eat (and eat and eat). Carbs in cold+altitude=good. Easy breathing, easy sleeping.

After three hours the next day, we stopped at 10,000 feet to eat and nap. We picked up an hour or so later and hiked to Little Meru (12,500 feet). Difficult breathing, difficult walking: loose gravel, sore ass, sore hip joints. Difficult sleeping - mini hyperventilation, weird bad dreams.

At 2 am the next day/morning, we left for Meru's summit. Impossible breathing, impossible walking - baby steps (and baby stumbles) most of the way, in the dark; many, MANY scrambles over rockface and crags, again, in the dark, and again, many stumbles and a few bad falls. We ran out of water, got headaches and vomited from the altitude, and I burst into tears so many times that Steve and Thomas (my two climbing companions) assumed I had AMS and was experiencing the psychotic side effects that accompany it.

We did make it, though. Socialist peak, 15,000 feet. I learned a few things:

Functioning at altitude has nothing to do with your fitness level.

I'm tougher than I think. Or perhaps more stubborn than I think.

Snot freezes at 13,500.

I vomit at altitude.

I should really never go higher than 14,000 feet.

I love Thomas and Steve very much.

I have some issues with my right hip joint, which I've suspected for two years but now know for sure.

My knees are pretty strong.

The top of Tanzania is hauntingly beautiful.

If one were to die/injure themselves attempting to summit Meru, it would take over two days to get them down to a place where they could be placed into a vehicle.

.00002% of the world's population shares the Meru experience with me.

Handwarmers don't work (not enough oxygen for them to do their thing) above 13,500.

My hiking boots are AWESOME.

My swahili is TERRIBLE.

But I already knew those last two things before we left. Here's some more of the story: