Wednesday June 24
It’s day two in the bush. What a peaceful place to rise. The loudest sounds are no longer morning workers or roasters singing in the mornings. We are woken by the rumble of a lions roar and the cackle of hienas laughter.
As the sun brechas the horizon, birds begin to chips and the noise of predators begins to fade. It’s 6am and the stars are fading from the sky and the ceiling of clouds becomes brighter. Today, Holly, John and Blaise would join Olivia, Lily, and I for a morning walk. I was pleased to see them. We were told to wait until 6:30 before Andrew walked us out. We went over the cliff and down to the river. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. We weaved through the bushes unsure of what might be just ahead. When we reached the river, I felt engulfed in nature a part of the savanna’s wildlife. Zebras observed us from over the bank, a heron sat high in an acacia, and baboons speckled a tree in the distance. We sat quietly listen to the river rush by. On our way up I stopped to look back into the valley. Across the way was a lone giraffe strolling peacefully, occasionally disappearing behind acacia. Holly, Lily, and I admired for a while before turning up hill. Blaise was walking down the hill to warn us of danger ahead. A hiena was near but Andrew seemed unfazed. I followed him closely listen to grunting over the ridge. We waved me to come “impalas.” I walk swiftly behind him scaring the impalas away. Only then did we tell him a hiena was near. It was unsettling when I realized he was unaware of the impending danger but he once again seemed unconcerned. He continued on scanning the landscape ahead.
Breakfast was served and we settled into the day before heading back to the sights we visited Monday. Edward, a Kenya Frankenstein was our guide. After speaking with Hawa, a local women, we headed back to base. I was tasked with designing permaculture solutions for her property. She is disabled with four kids, two of which live in the house. It is a small house, the size of a garden shed, with a tattered roof. Smaller than my living room at home. She lacked a bathroom, kitchen, water and garden for food. She relies on her older children and donations from the community. She had tried to grow plants before but elephants came to stomp them dead. Her trees were grazed by neighbors camels and grasses groomed by others goats. The rest of the day I sat considering solutions and assessing my map. By the end of the night I was going cross eyed and ready for a break.
I was feeling sluggish and ready for sleep. I went to bed early with no intention of an early morning. But I went to bed weary. In the morning, Riley told me the electric fence wasn’t quite as powerful as we were lead to believe. The night we arrived he bumped into the fence but quickly noticed there was no shock. He tried to tap the fence, no shock, he grabbed the fence, no shock. Well it is what it is. The staff seems confident so I trust the locals. Waking up in the middle of the night I was hesitant I peaked my head out of the tent and listened for noises. I debated waking a friend but I was brave. I tippy toed to the bathroom shining my light at the fence and checking for glowing eyes. The coast was clear but I would have to make it back. There is a hole facing the fence so I peer out of the slit before opening the door to the wild landscape. Unfortunately, I was too nervous to admire the sky full of stars. I tip toed to the tent and settled in for the rest of the night.
Wired to Wonder 