"Why Not Just Go To A Zoo?"

Jenny Carless is filling in for Supriya this week. Jenny is a nonfiction writer, amateur wildlife photographer, and novelist-in-training who last blogged with us in May.

 

I don’t think my favorite vacation destination—going on safari in East Africa—is particularly unusual. But based on some of the questions I’ve been asked, I’ve learned that others do! Here are a few examples …

 

Why not just go to a zoo?

Really??

Yes, believe it or not, someone did ask me this—with a straight face.

Aren’t you scared …

I get many versions of this question!

… to sleep in a tent by yourself with wild animals all around?

I’ve never heard of anyone being attacked in a tent in the night. (Feel free to set me straight!) Still, this is the question almost everyone asks.

What's there to be scared of?
Photo (c) Jenny Carless

Whether it’s true or not, a guide told me this on my first trip, and I choose to believe him: Lions and other wild animals don’t “get” the concept of “inside.” They can smell you, but if the tent canvas is there and they can’t see you—or an obvious way in—they don’t try. After all, why bother, with all those tasty gazelles, zebras, and wildebeests all around?

… of the spiders and snakes?

Yes, actually, I am. But there’s not much I can do about it—and if I’m going to get any sleep at all, I have to buck up and deal with it.

One of the wonderful things about my favorite camps is that they send someone in to check our tents while we’re having dinner. (I think of this as “spider patrol,” and it is much appreciated!) So, the worst I have to contend with are a few (admittedly, sometimes ginormous) spiders and things like millipedes. I try to get the big spiders out, but if I can’t, as long as they’re not on the tent ceiling hanging over my head, I force myself into “don’t think about it” mode—and I remind myself that it could be worse: I could be dealing with Australian or Hawaiian critters!

…and I don’t get into bed without doing a thorough spider/scorpion check. I learned this lesson the hard way on my first trip!

… to be in Nairobi?

Simply the mention of Kenya’s capital tends to make friends and family nervous. The first few visits, it was vague terrorist warnings. Last year, Somali rebels. (Last October, I had to text my family three nights in a row, after grenade attacks, to confirm that I was fine.)

Still, I quite like Nairobi. It’s loud and colorful and filthy and a tad overwhelming; it has incredibly friendly people and some who give me really nasty looks. But I can say the same for several large European cities that shall remain nameless.

The next-best thing to mother's milk
Photo (c) Jenny Carless

And Nairobi has some wonderful places to visit. On the wildlife side, the DavidSheldrick Wildlife Trust rescues and rehabilitates orphan elephants (typically victims of poaching), and the GiraffeCentre is involved in educating children about wildlife and helping to rebuild the population of endangered Rothschild giraffes.

At the Giraffe Centre, you can learn about and feed giraffes

…to visit Gorilla Forest Camp?

Gorilla Forest Camp, in Uganda’s Bwindi Impenetrable Forest, is a lovely spot—but one with a grisly history: Years before my visit, rebel Rwandans attacked guests there. Several friends called me insane, but time had passed, that area was considered safe at the time, so I went.

Silverback, Bwindi Impenetrable Forest
Photo (c) Jenny Carless

I didn’t want to miss seeing mountain gorillas in their world. Slogging through steep, swampy, you-can’t-get-through-here-without-a-machete rainforest was one of the hardest hikes I’ve ever done (a little embarrassing to admit after Alli’s post on Tuesday!)—and scarier than staying at the camp, in some places—but so worth it! I saw an entire family of gorillas at play and watched a silverback snacking away happily on nettles—a magical experience.

I didn’t have an “up close and personal” experience like you’ll see in this video, but watch it to see an amazing human/gorilla interaction. I can’t be sure, but this video looks like it’s at Gorilla Forest Camp. I guess I was there on the wrong day!

So, these are some of the reasons I go to East Africa on vacation. I suppose unusual is in the eye of the beholder. Do you go on vacations your friends think are scary?

Olduvai Gorge: In the Footsteps of the Ancients

Jenny Carless is filling in for Supriya this week. Jenny is a nonfiction writer, amateur wildlife photographer, and novelist-in-training who last blogged with us in April.

There’s a place in Kenya I’d like to visit sometime. Not for the wildlife, and not for the warm and welcoming Kenyans who live there today—but for the people who lived there a very long time ago. 

I don’t expect to find lots of fossils and artifacts. I simply want to be in the place where our ancient ancestors (or related species) once walked, the very place from which humans may have evolved.

The “Cradle of Mankind”

Olduvai Gorge (the Maasai call it Oldupai, for a local plant) is located in Kenya’s Great Rift Valley and has been called the “cradle of mankind.” (However, just as Santa Cruz and Huntington Beach fight over the name “Surf City USA,” it seems that a couple of places use this moniker.)

Whatever you call it, this spot has been the site of some of the most significant archaeological and anthropological finds ever. Over the eons, this part of East Africa was home to Homo habilis (about 1.9 million years ago), Paranthropus boisei (about 1.8 million years ago), and Homo erectus (about 1.2 million years ago). Homo sapiens showed up about 17,000 years ago.

Discoveries at Olduvai Gorge profoundly changed our views about the time scales of human evolution and provided evidence that humans originally evolved in Africa.

The Leakey Family Legacy

In most people’s minds, this archaeological site—and others in East Africa—is synonymous with the famous Leakey family (Louis; his wife, Mary; his son, Richard; Richard’s daughter, Louise). Louis and Mary Leakey are responsible for most of the excavations in Olduvai Gorge. However, Wilhelm Kattwinkel, a German entomologist, actually discovered the site, in 1911.

Not only did the Leakeys find early stone tools that provide evidence that humans evolved in Africa, they also discovered that the tools were transported many miles, suggesting the species’ ability to think and to plan. Many believe that Homo habilis, nicknamed “Handy Man,” was the earliest tool maker.

Homo habilis

It’s apparently still a point of some controversy as to whether these earliest residents hunted or scavenged or survived by a combination of the two. Most believe that they ate berries, tubers and roots. Some of the tools found allowed them to remove meat from dead animals, and others, to get marrow from bones. Archaeologists have found the bones of animals—like ancient wildebeests—near Handy Man’s bones and tools, but we don’t know if Homo habilis killed the animals or just ate the meat opportunistically.  

Handy Man

Mary and Louis Leakey discovered and described the species Homo habilis. The fossils they found in the early 1960s held the record as the earliest known species of the genus Homo until about two years ago. But now, that title is being challenged: A biological anthropologist has proposed that a partial skull found in South Africa belonged to an even earlier species.

Handy Man would be small (about 4 feet 3 inches) compared to most humans today—and had much longer arms, proportionately, than we do. It had about half our cranial capacity.

Paranthropus boisei

Nutcracker Man

Another early species Mary Leakey discovered (Paranthropus boisei), this one in 1959, is called “Nutcracker Man.” (It had big, flat cheek teeth.) The cranium she found is 1.75 million years old.

Richard Leakey later determined that Nutcracker Man was the first species to use stone tools. It had a skull designed for heavy chewing, which also shared some traits with modern gorillas.

In the Footsteps of the Ancients

I’m in awe of what archaeologists and paleontologists do—how they look at small bones, bone fragments and artifacts and paint a vibrant picture of life so long ago. I wonder if, by walking in the footsteps of the ancients, I can somehow see and feel for myself some of the mystery flowing down through the ages. I hope so!

Have you ever been to the site of ancient civilizations or species? If so, how did it feel?

The images of the Homo habilis and Paranthroupus boisei were photographed at Westfӓlisches Museum fϋr Archӓologie, Herne, from scientific reconstructions.

Architecture and My Favorite Places

Jenny Carless is filling in for Supriya this week. Jenny is  a nonfiction writer, amateur wildlife photographer, and novelist-in-training who blogged with us in January about her passion for safaris in Kenya.

I hadn’t really noticed, until I sat down to write this post, how much I associate the places I love—and those on my list to visit—with their architecture.

When I think of Paris, for example, I picture Sacré Coeur, perched atop Montmartre. I first saw the basilica from somewhere far across the city, through misty skies as day evaporated into night. The pale monolith seemed to glow, and from then on, I’ve always thought of Sacré Coeur as a sort of ethereal guardian, keeping watch over the city. 

Sacre Coeur
Photo by Tonchino

For many people, I suspect, mention London’s architecture, and the Big Ben clock tower or St. Paul’s Cathedral comes to mind. Of course, today, people’s first association might be “the Gherkin” (formally, 30 St. Mary Axe) or the London Eye—two more recent iconic additions to the cityscape.

"The Gherkin"
Photo by Aurelien Guichard

I tend to think of several less well known structures around the city. When I lived in Notting Hill (West London) and worked in the World Trade Center (East London), I had one of the best commutes ever: My route included Marble Arch, Buckingham Palace, Admiralty Arch, and Tower Bridge, not to mention Hyde Park and Green Park. This wonderful drive across is still etched in my mind as a very fond memory.

When we think Egypt, our most common images are the pyramids and the Great Sphinx. San Francisco? The Golden Gate Bridge and the Transamerica Pyramid. Thoughts of Sydney, Australia bring to mind the Harbor Bridge and the Sydney OperaHouse.

The chicken or the egg?

Am I drawn to a place because its architecture appeals to me, or does the architecture appeal to me because it somehow reflects a culture I’m already drawn to?

Certainly we recognize that architecture is often symbolic of a culture or a particular time. For example, would the Eiffel Tower, with its giant lattice girders representing the age of modern engineering and science, have been built at any other time? Likewise, the fantastical creations of Antoni Gaudí in Barcelona (and elsewhere) are icons of a particular time, place, and political movement.

Antoni Gaudi's Casa Batllo
Photo by Massimo Catarinella

The Centre Georges Pompidou represents, according to its website, “a constraint-free architecture in the spirit of the 1960s.” In the late 1970s, when the building had been open just a year or two, its ultra-modern appearance, smack in the heart of one of Paris’s oldest areas, the Marais, caused something of a scandal. Today, it hardly seems shocking.

So what will people centuries or millennia from now think about some of our modern buildings (assuming some still stand)? What will their impressions be of Burj Al Arab (the famous “sailboat building”) in Dubai, for example?

Burj al Arab
Photo by Tintoni Thomas

What about the Kansas City Public Library’s nifty “hardcover” façades? Although, with the proliferation of ebooks, future observers may not even understand what those book spines are!

Kansas City Public Library
Photo by Jonathan Moreau

Nature’s Architecture

I can’t sign off without mentioning the forms we see in nature—nature’s architecture, I suppose you could say. Natural forms are equally enticing to me, and I think we all associate places with their natural architecture as much, if not more, than their human-made counterparts. Just think of some of the best-known natural wonders: Mount Everest, Victoria Falls, or the Grand Canyon. 

In addition to its beauty or grandeur, the natural architecture of a place is an essential element to its character. I visited Ol Pejeta Conservancy in Laikipia, Kenya for the first time last October. There, Mount Kenya (the country’s tallest mountain and Africa’s second tallest, after Kilimanjaro) is an inescapable presence. All Kenyans are immensely proud of Mount Kenya, and many Kenyans believe that it is God’s throne, or resting place, on earth. We turned to the mountain first thing every morning, to see what colors the sunrise would paint it, and we watched it fade into the dusk every evening.

Mount Kenya
Photo by Jenny Carless

Which touches you more—human-made architecture or nature’s architecture? What are some of your favorite examples?

“Welcome to the Food” – and other fun phrases in Kiswahili

Our guest this week is Jenny Carless, a nonfiction writer, amateur wildlife photographer, novelist-in-training, and safari addict. She is currently working on her first novel, which deals with elephant poaching in Kenya.

Thanks to Heidi for inviting me to contribute to Novel Adventurers. I enjoy reading everyone’s posts and am pleased to participate!

I fell for the animals, people, and landscapes of Kenya when I first visited in 2003. Since then, when I’m not in Kenya, I seem to be planning my next trip to Kenya.

 

Leopards are notoriously shy.

And while it’s the giraffes (OK, and other fauna, too) that lure me across 11 time zones and a pair of far-too-long flights, I’m also intrigued by Kenya’s many languages and rich cultures. Kiswahili and English are the official languages in Kenya, but you must add to those nearly 70 tribal languages spoken by the Masai, Kikuyu, Samburu, Borana, Luo, and many other ethnic groups.

As any traveler knows, even if your conversation skills are limited to hello, goodbye, please, and thank-you, making at least some effort is a fantastic way to connect with locals.

I made the most of this on my recent safari, two months ago. Because I was in research mode (gathering information for a novel in progress), that attitude spilled over into my language learning, too. As a result, I had some of the most fun I’ve had with my guides and the camp staff—and I think it was because they really appreciated my faltering efforts to learn their languages.

Good news for endangered African wild dogs: this one is pregnant.

So many languages, so little time…

I’m enchanted by the many ways different cultures express things. For example, bon appétit in Kiswahili is Karibu kwa chakula – literally, “welcome to the food.” I love that!

There are also regional idiosyncrasies in English. My favorite is “bitings,” the Kenyan word for snacks. A Zimbabwean friend says he doesn’t think any other English-speaking countries in Africa use this term—and when he first came to Kenya, he hadn’t a clue what they were talking about.

 

Even when I can only catch a word here or there, I enjoy simply listening to the sounds as others speak. To my ear, Kiswahili is very melodious. Lala salama (“sleep well”) rolls off the tongue so easily. Even “garbage” (takataka) sounds pretty!

On safari, we eat "bitings" while enjoying spectacular sunsets.

Accents add an additional dimension to the enjoyment—and I hear English spoken with many more accents in Kenya than I do in California. Kenyans themselves speak English with a rich, tuneful voice that, in my mind, reflects the musicality of Kiswahili. Beyond that, on this trip alone I spoke with people from Zimbabwe, South Africa, Swaziland, New Zealand, England, Finland, Belgium, and more.

A team effort

In October and November, I visited three different Kicheche camps (Laikipia, Mara Camp, and Mara Naboisho). One of Kicheche’s specialties is finding incredibly friendly and helpful staff—even when it comes to language lessons, as it turns out.

In addition to peppering my guides endlessly with questions about wildlife, I asked them and the camp staff for help with Kiswahili. Soon, it felt like a team endeavor, with everyone enthusiastically teaching me a phrase or two each day. They also seemed tickled when I threw out something new. (How did you sleep? See you tomorrow!)

I'd love to learn to speak giraffe.

I even learned a couple of phrases in Ma from one Masai guide. That night, when I said supa (“hi”) to my night guard, and then ashe oleng (“thanks very much”) when he delivered me safely back to my tent after dinner, I was rewarded with a big grin. And guess what? He was chattier when I saw him the next evening.

My intensified effort to learn Kiswahili upped my enjoyment so much on this trip that I’ve come home inspired to keep it up. In fact, I may look for a tutor. So, if anyone knows a native Kiswahili speaker in the Monterey Bay area who might be interested, please let me know!

Then, once I make inroads with Kiswahili, I’d like to learn to speak giraffe…

All photos (c) Jenny Carless