I remember the days at home when I would run out a room if I saw anything crawling that didn’t have a social security number. But living and traveling in Africa for six months has changed that a bit. Now a shower is acceptable if there aren’t a couple of 5″ slugs, spiders are okay as long as the cobwebs aren’t in the stream of the water, giant moths are tolerable if they stay on the wall, beetles are left alone as long as i can see them, and I just glaze over the mildew, dirt and rust. Every few minutes I take inventory to make sure they’re all still on the walls, ceiling and fixtures and not sneaking around. The sinks are a whole other issue. I’ve shared taps with beetles, colonies of ants, spiders, furry worms, wasps, grasshoppers, and countless other creepy crawly and flying insects. I don’t even want to get into the details of the bathrooms. Just imagine having to drop your drawers in a neglected, therefore thriving, insectarium. Actually, no don’t do that. Therefore dim lighting is preferred; the less seen the better. But the worst is when the power goes out. Then you want to flee but are too afraid to move and the words ‘they’re more afraid of you than you are of them’ sounds ludicrous.

That’s the unofficial byline for Malawi. The country is stunning with its rolling green mountains strewn with straw huts, kids playing with balls they made with blown up condoms wrapped with plastic bags and twine. Lake Malawi itself is a site; a massive ocean sized body of fresh water plagued with balharzia (a parasite that grows in snails and follows the trail of urine to their human hosts). Its sandy shores were perfect places to pitch our tents and camp a few lazy days away. It’s a very quiet, subdued country where the only hustle and bustle is at the souvenir shacks where they try to sell all kinds of wood carvings including the famous Malawi chairs and tables that they’ve polished with Kiwi Shoe Shine. One day as we were looking out over the water we saw what looked like smoke rising out of the water in the distance but there was no visible fire or island. It turns out that they have colossal fly storms with literally millions of lake flies swarming around blocking out the sky, so dense that it looked black from miles away. We also happened to be there at the beginning of rainy season and half way through got hit by a riotous storm. It was during spiked punch night so while many were wobbling around camp the lightning show was exploding over the water. First the thunder approached us with increasing volume, then we noticed the heightened lightning activity (which was phenomenal to watch). When the galing winds hit us and the first few drops fell we ran to get the tarp over our tent. We tried to warn the drunken crowd but their hearing was impaired. Just as we were about to finish staking in the tarp the downpour (and here I stress DOWN POUR) hit us like a wall enclosing us under Yosemite Falls. The lightning and thunder were on top of and each strike was deafening and not only shook our bones but sounded like the earth and sky had cracked open in unison. The seams in our tent started to leak but there so was nothing more we could do but sleep it out. In the morning everyone was trying to recover from the camp site turned swamp. Walking around meant sloshing in six inches of water and some tents fared better than others. There was a direct correlation between how much punch people drank and how soaked their stuff got.

There’s more to Snake Camp than snakes. There are also crocodiles, a rare narrow snouted alligator, injured endangered owls and hawks. Their newest edition was acquired 9 months ago when the local Maasai killed a striped hyena and found a helpless 4 day old pup. The Maasai didn’t know what to do with it so they gave it to the camp. Striped hyenas aren’t just endangered but they’re almost never seen in the wild because they’re skittish solitary hunters, much more elusive than cheetahs. A simple inquiry and we found ourselves locked into the makeshift space between the snake cages with a gray and silver furball energetically bounding directly at us. She was a pretty sight with all the hair on her back sticking up, wild wide black eyes, black stripes traveling up the legs, and a big gaping mouth full of sharp teeth. You could tell she was being playful and at the same time sense that she was wild. At nine months she was as big as a grown lab and you couldn’t help but wonder when her instinct would overcome her domestication. She was romping on Steve, using him as a chew toy and teeth sharpener. First she had her jaws wrapped around his ankle then caught his forearm with her canines. The more she played the more aggressive she became and you could tell her self restraint was waning. The guide wasn’t able to calm her down so he said it was time to go. In two weeks the hyena would be handed over to a group that would release her back into the wild so we were lucky to catch this rare opportunity.

Just outside Arusha, Tanzania we stayed at a compound called Snake Camp. And you betcha they had snakes. They had an impressive collection of deadly reptiles including pythons, vipers, cobras, and mambas. The owners were kind enough to arrange a feeding frenzy for us. One by one guinea pigs and baby chicks were tossed to their doom. Some of the snakes struck before the furry snacks ever landed on their feet. Others slowly slithered toward their cuddly new friends, tasting them with their forked tongues before lounging at them with lightning fast attacks. One, two, even three bites! No mercy. We all watched with gruesome interest, yelling instructions to the guinea pigs to play dead and a chick to stop pecking the black mamba in the head. It was really neat to see the hoods on the cobras expand before the strikes. Once the critters were paralyzed by venom the snakes opened their hinged jaws and ever so slowly swallowed them whole. We could see the muscles of the python undulating beneath the skin as it wound itself tighter around its gerbil turned marshmallow.

The highlight of our second trip into the Ngorongoro crater was a cheetah sighting. We were wow’d by how close we were able to get to the gorgeous creature. Her spotted skin and supermodel skinniness gave her a sleek stealthiness. We followed her to a patch of grass from which she surveyed the green plain. Then something in the distance caught her attention and she rose with purpose. Her target was a lone gazelle cluelessly fattening itself up. The cheetah quickened her pace, lowered her stance, and never took her gaze off her prey. Whenever the steak paused from grazing to look up the cheetah immediately stopped and ducked under the grass. She was down right sneaky. But it was effective because she was within striking distance and we were all holding our breath in anticipation. Then a stupid LandCruiser got too close to the gazelle and spooked it off. I think I actually saw the dismay in the cheetah as she watched her filet mignon hop off into the distance.
- Mary

We’ve spent the last week back in Nairobi doing a bunch of research for our travels post Africa and getting ready for the next overland truck that will start on Feb. 9 (tomorrow) and take us down to Cape Town, South Africa over the next 2 months. We will cross through Tanzania, Malawi, Zimbabwe, Namibia, Botswana and I forget what else. We’re nervous about meeting our next group and crew but at least we’ve got the camping part down (if our cheap tents from Cairo survive).

After the last 6 weeks on our own we’ve grown accustomed to clean rooms, bathrooms, and sleeping on beds so it’ll be hard to go back to questionable/lacking hygiene. That and we won’t be able to have bacon everyday for breakfast any more. That may be the hardest adjustment of all. *sigh*

From Zanzibar we continued our island exploration first in Pembe, Tanzania then Lamu, Kenya. Our tans needed to be refreshed but its kind of hard in muslim countries where skin is definitely not in.

In Pembe there was nothing to do but dive in their hurricane class currents and wait for the next home cooked dinner. Seriously, its so untouristed that there is literally nothing to do but watch each other perspire in the heat. We did a lot of that because the power would sporadically go out, alot taking the oscillating fans out with it.

From there we flew back to the mainland and took the long bum bruising bus ride to Lamu. This small island off the coast of Kenya is still deep in swahili culture but the tourists were running rampant. That detracted the charm of the island for me but they had awesome fresh fruit drinks for basically free. Our favorite combo was mango and passion fruit. The crab was barely edible though, but the seafood samosas were deliciously dripping in grease. Atleast here the electricity rationing was scheduled so we could plan ahead for dark, dark nights.

Generally speaking, the food in Zanzibar sucks eggs. Considering the island is historically famed for spices and is now completely overrun with Italian all-inclusive resorts, there’s just no excuse. Stonetown has a couple decent places. We were tipped off to a good Chinese restaurant (Pagoda) and a great gelateria and pizza shop (Amore Mio). Good stuff – ate a lot of gelato here. But that’s two restuarants and it doesn’t matter because we’re staying over an hour away. The rest of the island seems to offer very few truly local restaurants and the hotel / resort establishments offer sub-mediocre fare.
But thinking ahead, we picked our hotel by stomach. Our bungalow complex is an Italian family run joint (Rosa dei Venti) and Francesco can cook. Dinner orders have to be in by lunchtime so he can pick everything up fresh daily. Did I mention neighboring Nungwi is a fishing village and we’ll see locals walking down the beach with 10-20 pound tuna?
Seafood, the saving grace of Zanzibari cuisine. The fish is good. The lobster yummy. The calamari is great, but the crab takes the cake. We have spent the last two weeks almost literally surviving on calamari and local mangrove crab. The crab claws are as big as Mary’s head. Really. I’m afraid to get back in the water. Francesco serves up a killer grilled crab plate and the chinese restaurant cooks them in a ginger/onion sauce to die for. I have eaten more crab in the last two weeks than in my entire life. Seriously.
Forget the white sand beaches lapped by warm waters and cooled by soft breezes. Nevermind the culture or fresh fruit. Ignore the diving. Come to Zanzibar for the crab.

One of the touristy side trips to do when going through the game parks is to visit a traditional Maasai village, called a boma. These are villages made of sticks, mud, dung, and hides with all the huts facing inward forming a protective circle. The Maasai take turns living there for 2yrs at a time to show tourists their culture while lighten their wallets. Our steadfast inclination was to avoid these genuine fake abodes, but in a moment of weakness mixed with mild curiosity and fear of missing out we held back our cynicism and found ourselves standing outside their thorny acacia lined fortification. A group of women and men came out to greet us chanting and parading as if we were coming back from a successful lion hunt we were told. Right, we just came from their hole of an outhouse. I suppose that’s adventure in itself. We follow them inside where the women are standing in an open area to the left and the men just opposite. Both groups take turns ceremoniously singing and jumping. Then the mzungus were invited to join in the exercise. Steve hops in and starts bouncing like a bean in a hot skillet, flashing a boyish grin on his face. I get my turn over as soon as possible. Then we are led into one of their chest height homes where our guide, the chief’s son, chats with us about their way of life, how to hunt a lion, and the many ways we could give him money. Yes, it was hokey but we were glad we did it because we learned interesting things about the Maasai that we wouldn’t otherwise have. For example Maasai warriors still hunt lions, their food staples are blood, milk, meat, and fat, and the women rebuild the homes every eight years.

– Mary

And now the picture Mary didn’t want you to see