Five friends and a bag of rice

Makes for a good title, but we actually had way more food than a bag of rice. It started with a bag of rice though…and a great idea; to climb one of the peaks of Mount Kenya, namely Point Lenana at 4,985m (16,355ft) above sea level (I can't take credit for the pic below - its from the net).


Not even thinking about hiring porters, we were determined, ambitious, and frankly, crazy. Bags all packed – food, sleeping bags, tents, clothes, toques, gloves, whatever else we think we might need, five of us from the Crew set off with a guide, Mohammed, from nearby town Nanyuki for what we thought would be a 3 day trek. 2 days to climb to the summit, and 1 day to descend.

It was supposed to be that way. For me, it wasn’t.

It wasn’t the steep inclines we climbed, it wasn’t the difficult terrain we walked, it wasn’t a lack of potable water - thanks to Alex’s UV filter and the mountain’s yummy glacier fed water sources – it was the change in altitude that got me. Thinking about the possibility that it was all in my head, the physical manifestation of something only mental – and maybe it was, I don’t know, since either way somewhere near halfway on the second climbing day, I didn't want to admit that it felt as if my head and heart had switched places. The beating headache combined with a loss of appetite, and a lack of sleep due to the cold shivering previous night’s sleep, put me completely out on our lunch break. I didn't understand how everyone could be hungry since all I felt was the extreme need to lie down and nothing else. I could have sworn I only closed my eyes for a minute; I think I fell asleep since all of a sudden I heard my name and I opened my eyes to see 2 sets of blinking eyes asking me if I'm ok. I wondered if they might be shinning a flashlight directly in my face, since everything was painfully bright, but it didn't seem like the right time they would play a cruel joke; I realized it was all in my head.

My friends talked to the guide, turns out in Mohammed's 14 years of guiding, he had also taken a 28 day course in altitude sickness. He has probably seen it all. He talked to me with the full confidence that I would make it, but on one condition. I was to give him my pack to carry. I couldn't believe it. He was going to carry my heavy pack, tied up to his own, on top of some of the other items he was carrying for us - litres of water, shoes, etc. The guilt set in me, but I wanted to summit, and Mohammed convinced me there was no other way.

And so I fell in pace with whoever was leading and kept walking - higher and higher. I had taken diomox and 4 extra strength pain killers (not all at once of course though I wanted to), but nothing seemed to helped. I kept walking trying to think of anything but who might have forgotten the knife they stabbed in the frontal lobe of my brain. I tried to believe and think positive that the pain would go away soon. The higher we went though, the worse it got and it spread to my entire head. We were luckily kind of close to our second overnight base - Shipton's camp, and Mohammed was determined to get us all there. I kept walking, eventually losing sense of what I was seeing and all I could really do was follow the tracks of the person directly in front of me. It must have been annoying for the Crew member in front of me to have a shadow directly behind them, but I didn't give him much choice.

I arrived at Shipton's with everyone in the late afternoon. Mohammed pointed out a bunk I could lie down on - we hadn't planned on using the lodges since it was more expensive and we had brought our own tents. I didn't care though, I followed Mohammed's advice, and sought comfort in my sleeping bag on the bunk. I don't recall much more except a round robin of friends checking up on me, giving me tea with lemon (Mom – sound familiar?!) and force feeding me per se. We have a damn good crew of people, everyone looking out for each other - would make a good Tim Horton's, or AT&T commercial!

The intial plan for summitting from Shipton's was to wake up around 2am, get ready, and set out at 3am. From Shipton's, it is a straight 700m ascent in the dark, to catch the sunrise at 6:30am. And so the alarms were set for 2am, with clothes and flashlights laid out for quick retrieval.

2am came and went, there was no way I could summit. Another member of the Crew felt the effect of the altitude and the challenging hike from the day before, and decided it was best not to summit either and we would have to miss another day of work to summit the following day. The other three were set on the early morning's insanity, and set off with Mohammed.

I awoke to the sounds of their voices upon their return around 9:30am, though still not feeling quite at par, I arose to greet them. The look on Kate's face was priceless. It was a look of accomplishment, relief, happiness, exhaustion, and bewilderment. Amazing, I was so proud of her. Equally happy and accomplished, Alex and Sean's faces were also beaming. I was so happy for all of them, hugs all around.



We discussed the next set of plans, James and I were set to summit the following early morning, and Alex – a man made for the mountains - was to join us for a second journey up the final lag. Kate was in her words "done with this madness" and left to descend with Sean and Mohammed to head back to Lewa.

Set up with another guide, Elijah, the three of us stayed behind and headed back to our sleeping bags to continue to sleep off the pain of the altitude. Later in the day, we hiked up 200m to acclimatize a little more in the hopes it would help ease us into the lunacy of the summit.

2am comes around, and the three of us are already awake due the fierce winds of the night shaking the flaps of our tent. The night is cold, and the windchill takes our breath away – I hear someone say it is in the minus 10s Celsius. We eat lightly, try to warm up with tea, and meet Elijah. We head up the trail at a quick pace and stop intermittently for very brief moments to get used to our surroundings and get our bearings. Its impossible though to stop for as long as we really need since the winds are too brutal and we need to avoid frostbite. We keep trekking in the dark. At one point, Elijah took a wrong turn and we were momentarily lost until we retraced our footsteps and looked up to see other headlamps and flashlights from other groups climbing the same summit. We keep our pace quick and ambitious, and finally look up to see the last bit of pointed rock to climb over. We clamber over the last challenging section, and we finally stand on the point. The view is exhilarating.



It feels as though we were on a plane, and stepped out on the wing. The clouds are beneath us, the sky is endless, and the climate is ferocious. The feeling is baffling, overwhelming, amazing and breathtaking for where we are and what we’ve been through to get here.

Turns out our pace was too rapid, and we are too early for the sunrise. We have to wait another 30min, which we do with caution. The subzero temperatures are dangerous and we are aware we need to descend rather quickly. We wait for the sun to rise – I have never seen this kind in my life. It seemed we could see the entire sphere emerging at the horizon, we could see beyond just a face of the sun – and we now understand and forget the displeasure of waking up in the wee hours of the morning for this moment.



The sun is up now and its no joke to descend as quickly as possible for fear of yielding one of us to the cold. We head the quick route, down a scree slope back to Shipton’s. High fives and hugs all around, the three of us are likely expressing the same feelings that I saw on Kate the previous day.

After a few hours nap, we commence our descent and final journey home to Lewa. It’s a long day’s hike and today’s soreness reminds me of what it took to get through it all. Mount Kenya won’t look the same to us; even just the name’s mention will likely remind us of the expedition that took us to mental and physical extremes in ways we might not have been ready for but welcomed and overcame nevertheless.

Elephant skin

Elephant skin is nothing like anything else I’ve touched. The hairs feel like whiskers, and the skin is like a soft callus. Holding the trunk, feeling and smelling the essence of elephant with each drugged breathe it takes is the foundation of MasterCard commercials – priceless.

The elephant I’m referring to is the matriarch of a herd that frequents Lewa. At an age estimate of 15-20 years, and an approximate weight of 5000+ kg, this female was fitted with a radio collar last Thursday and Kate and I were fortunate to be allowed to tag along.

In our two-vehicle convoy, we set off with rangers, the vet, other guests, and Ian Craig, the son of the founding family of Lewa. Off-roading in search of the matriarch, we come across her in long grasses surrounded by her three calves and nearby friends. We are positioned downwind from her and a plan is derived for a quick effective immobilization. Tracking the movements of the matriarch makes sense to gain insights into elephant dispersal patterns. GPS collars are relied upon as they communicate waypoints over a fixed time interval – and the one outfitted for this individual is no different.



I watch the matriarch as conversation revolves around the issue of safety and the calves. The calves are not likely to leave her side, but they can be momentarily chased away with our vehicles. At this moment, she has placed her trunk flat on the ground. Feeling the vibrations and low frequency emissions around her – up to 10km -, she is listening through her feet and trunk – an amazing feat for a terrestrial animal. I watch her listen. Is she listening to us? As cognition in animals is sometimes measured through brain size - specifically the convoluted structure of the neocortex to body mass ratios - the African elephant species qualifies as intelligent and sentient. Thought to be able to feel compassion, sadness, and other incalculable traits, I can’t help wonder what she has tuned herself into and what she might be pondering.

Not much she can do now, she is darted and she takes off in fright. It will take a few minutes for the drugs to settle in, but the danger is that her levels of epinephrine can overcome the inhibitory effect of some drugs – depending on the drug, of course. I didn’t get a chance to ask the vet what he used, it would have been one of those curiosity questions that has a place and time – neither of which was right at that moment as we set off by vehicle in hot pursuit of the matriarch. Down ridges, over hills, we bounce along hoping any minute she will show signs of immobility. Finally she comes to a stop and her hind legs give way; she is slowly setting into tranquility. We circle around her and communicate with the other vehicle of the whereabouts of the calves and other elephants. One calf stays by her side, and shows signs of anxiety. This calf is shooed off by the vehicle and one ranger jumps out to blindfold the matriarch with her large ears in an effort to reduce environmental stress on the animal.



Quickly, the 20lb collar is fitted tightly on her, and we seize the opportunity to touch her. We listen to her deep breathing and hold her airway open via the trunk. We are taken away by the whole experience. I think we jumped on cloud 9 with her for a little while.



Using a reversal, the vet brings her out of her sleep and we watch as she slowly finds her way back into the reality of savannah life. She will be tracked for the next 2 years, and she will teach us more than she probably realizes.

Lewa Marathon Madness

There was a gathering of all the animals in the kingdom, but one was missing…..can you guess which one? Read on…..

It seems the intent of the annual marathon on Lewa is to raise awareness and funds, and thus I will contribute what I can to spread the word of this special place.

But it comes with a heavy heart.

As with any human activity, the effects can be negative as we have not yet perfected a means of treating the environment around us without consequence. The juxtaposition is clear, in this case, of wildlife conservation versus human desire, and I’m not yet convinced there is not much we can do about it.

In brief, we, the Crew, worked day in and day out on ground preparations for the marathon. Our time consisted of 6 long days of pre-marathon and 2 long days of post-marathon work, all for the purposes of a half-day event. And we were just a nano fraction of what else occurs to run an internationally popular event. We really were just a tiny part of it all, but we were lucky to be in a position where we could feel the impact of the arrival and departure of 5,000+ humans over a few days. Lewa is a 160 km2 conservancy, only a fraction of which people were allowed to run on, and an even lesser space people were allowed to drive, dwell, and drink.



Many teams of rangers, two helicopters and a fixed-wing aircraft were dependent upon for wildlife monitoring, actually wildlife managing, well, mostly wildlife shooing. For human safety, this was necessary. One of our Crew members, Sean, ran the full marathon, and imagining what a rhino or buffalo could do out of fright (for example), its hard not to agree with this means of human protection.

I am unaware of the actual funds raised, but I can guess at the informational broadcast of wildlife and Lewa, and you reading this certainly contributes to the diffusion of knowledge. Using a basic equation from the entertainment industry, a negative experience for one person usually translates to 11 people simply due to the fact that humans are social beings and involve shared experiences. A positive experience doesn’t translate to as many (typical!), and sits around 4. Considering the assumption that the Lewa marathon is generally a positive experience for runners, spectators, and locals who come to trade goods and services, but also considering the advertising, blogging, and anticipation of the major event, I am guessing the number of people reached from just one person is closer to the 11 of the broadcast spectrum. Actually the number is likely way more than that given that it is an annual event and the only marathon to occur on a wildlife conservancy. Going conservatively, I will stick with 11.



Thus, the presence of 5,000+ people over the course of 2 days, may translate to 55,000+ people actually knowing about the event and possibly being aware of wildlife and their issues in conservation. Hmm that would be nice….but I wonder how much wildlife conservation may be brought up in chit chats about the Lewa marathon.

And so the purpose of raising awareness may be achieved to a fairly decent level. But what of the wildlife itself? The animals have virtually disappeared. I haven’t seen impala, zebras, or giraffes near our campsite in a long time. A few weeks ago, we used to fall asleep to the grunts and moans of lions across the swamp next to our tents. We used to nervously walk the 20 ft to our bathrooms to brush our teeth in the dark, and now we don’t even remember to take our flashlights to guide our eyes on the grassy path. We used to spastically jump at every odd sound thinking it might be a demonic predator after us in the night. Ok I may be exaggerating a little, but I do miss the wild watchful eyes that glimmer in the night and the guessing game we played to figure out where and who was lurking around us.



I know the animals will return as the peace and quiet settles in once the post-marathon work is all finished. The irony of it all is ever present and in my talks with some rangers and other Lewa personnel, it seems that most people are quite aware of it. The footprint of noise, smells, and sights of humans upon wildlife and their habitat is undeniable – I took these photos below from one of three large garbage pits created just for materials from the marathon alone - despite that sometimes we would like to remember that we are or ought to be considered part of the natural world. Some agree, some disagree with this; a debate with no clear answer.





No matter how you put it, ‘every action has an equal and opposite reaction’, or ‘every angle of incidence equals an angle of refraction’, the message is evident. There was a gathering of all the animals in the kingdom, but one was missing…..can you guess which one? I think our species may have lost the invitation.

The Walk

It started in jest. I turned to Phillip – who I might give the nickname of Beluga due to his adept social skills with all of us, he has become a good friend to us all– during one of our game drives and mentioned I thought I was becoming more familiar with the area. Roads were looking less and less alike and I was correctly approximating where we were with greater ease.

I said to Phillip: “By the end of the summer, I think you might be able to drop me off in the middle of Lewa and I might be able to find my way back.”

Phillip answers: “Ok! But we don’t need to wait for the end of the summer.”

I was half joking. Phillip wasn’t.

Yesterday, I was put to the test. This is how it went…

All last week we discussed the plan for The Walk. Phillip and Eagle decided they would choose a spot within Lewa that they knew I wasn’t familiar with and I was going to have to find my way back to headquarters (HQ), specifically to the tents now called home. It became a test of sorts, my ability to understand the natural world around here, navigate appropriately, and I’m guessing check my adaptability, and well…my hootzpah!

I wasn’t going to be left alone though as walking bait through the African savannah. Eagle was going to follow me about 10 meters behind armed with his G3 in case anything should happen. The goal of the trek was to be a 5 or 6 hour journey covering a bird’s flight of 7 or 8 km, but across an uneven train of closer to 17 or 18 km. I asked about food and water; I negotiated to be allowed a small bottle of water and army biscuits. And so it was set, and I swallowed my gasps and asked when this would happen. It felt as if each day last week The Walk was scheduled, but something always came up – from a mission to save stolen goats from one of the rangers to our vehicle being serviced and then backed into a post for dent removal and door maintenance! Planning The Walk didn’t fare well for my sleep as each night I would have trouble closing my eyes in anticipation of the next day’s adventure.

It also didn’t happen last week as we, the whole Crew, left on Thurs for a 5 day trek and trip to Kenya’s eastern oceanic coast, in part for a touch rugby tournament. It is amazing how the worlds a person can create for themselves in one realm can appear in unexpected parts of the world – it seems that it is with ease that a person can seek out displays of individuality to the extent that they find their way in somehow. We were fortunate that upon arrival to Diani beach, Mombassa, three of us were able to form a team with three others from the UK seeking the same escapade. It turns out that another team had fully registered but was trapped in Ethiopia with no means of arriving in time for the weekend tournament. We were lucky to replace the team and play 7 games, between tides on an incredibly inviting white sandy beach repeatedly kissed by the Indian Ocean.


We didn’t make it to the finals, but forgave ourselves and used the extra time to learn to body surf and hone our negotiating skills for kikoy and other African trinket purchasing.

Following the hour ride to the Mombassa bus station, the 10:30pm to 6am overnight bus to Nairobi, the 10am to 4pm matatu (aka large taxi) ride back to Lewa, I received a text message from Phillip informing me that Eagle was to pick me up the following day on Wed at 6:30am to begin our day. Still not knowing if it was The Walk day, I texted back saying no problem and asked if we were walking or rhino hunting. I didn’t hear back, and fell nervously asleep under the assumption that it was to be a usual rhino reconnaissance day.

I was wrong.

Eagle picked me up at 6:30am, and we set out down the Lewa roads in a northeastern direction. We stopped on a semi-unfamiliar road to me, and Eagle got out of the vehicle. That’s when I noticed the G3 wedged between the seat and the door. I asked Phillip about this, only because I knew that Eagle didn’t like carrying the weapon in the field in general. Phillip responds by saying: “its for The Walk”. I said: “right now?” – thinking I wasn’t exactly fully recovered from the Mombassa weekend experience. Leaving my camera, animal books, and anything weighty in the vehicle, I knew I had no choice, and just accepted my fate for the next 5 hours.

Eagle was determined to disorient me and began The Walk leading me down a river, and up a hill, climbing 1600ft, still in a northeastern direction away from Lewa HQ. Feeling like we were ascending Mount Kenya, I quickly texted Kate to let her know The Walk was on, and having joked the prior week about it, I knew she was aware of how to distribute my things if something were to happen! She gets my laptop! Heading away from Lewa HQ for at least a 3 or 4 km as the crow flies is what confused me a little – the rangers were successful in that aspect. Good thing the African jungle isn’t anything like the tall thick boreal forests of Labrador, and looking beyond the hills scattered across the Lewa landscape, it was relatively easy to pick out the general direction back to Lewa HQ– my compass and map also helped!

Eagle and I ended up walking more side by side than 10m apart due to the presence of nearby elephants and buffalo. On a side note - its still hard to anthropomorphize buffalo in any sort of delightful manner, even the babies resemble angry barbaric ambassadors of the animal kingdom. Greeting a few rhino monitors and armed rangers along the way, Eagle and I trekked, wandered, trampled, hiked, and marched the way to Lewa HQ. Walking in a calm silence listening and looking for signs of danger, we encountered giraffes, fresh buffalo, elephant, and rhino scat, hyena tracks, and old bones from animal carcasses cleaned out by vultures and other scavengers, detritivores, and decomposers.

Relatively uneventful, The Walk became more of a mental exercise with an added physical dimension of trekking a long distance through a landscape I am happy to become very acquainted with. It took Eagle and I just over 5 hours to arrive back at the tents, upon which I took one look at my bed and lay down for a nap of the kind of sleep I could only day dream about the week prior.

This one is for you, Ralph Lauren

It will be a memorable birthday, as it was likely one of the most unique I have experienced. There were many plans that I was not aware of, many heads coming together for little things that made the night. I am not sure yet what a typical Kenyan birthday celebration would be like, but we went along with the directions from our local friends and hosts. I knew awhile ago that killing a goat was part of it all, and I was most happy to oblige - as eating only wild meat that I know how/where it was killed has become part of me. Although the goat we had was not wild, it did come from Nkori’s batch and observing the treatment of animals here, I was most content to incorporate the goat. The ethics of eating I'll leave perhaps for another blog, a larger one, a book that I'm working on. Till then....

For 5,000 Kenyan shillings, the goat was tied to a nearby shrub in our tent habitat for the day. I took one look at him, and named him Ralph. It was more humane to me to give it a name, though I know you, the reader, is probably shaking your head at me. Sunthar took the name a little further and gave it a last name. The goat became fondly known as Ralph Lauren.

All day long, Kate was happy to remind me which day it was, and either excused me or played it up. Everyone needs a fan like her as it is so easy to let the day just pass quietly, at times regretfully.

Decorations were strung up, unbeknownst to me, as nearby school children had made a colorful sign and streamers. The previous day, other beverage and food supplies were purchased – to an extent I couldn’t have imagined – even inclusive of ingredients for a vegan cake! Big shout out and kudos to all members of the Crew for thinking and organizing this.

The presence of the rangers and tent hosts throughout the night added a certain zing to the conversation – from stories of anti-poaching operations to dancing in a conga line around the cake cutting table. It started off with directing and helping me kill and skin the goat, everyone’s participation was noted and required to give Ralph Lauren the esteem he deserved for being our meal. After slitting the throat at an angle that wasn’t exactly the most conducive for staying clean, I was covered in blood and even felt drops streaming down from my face, off my chin, and down my neck and shirt.

Fully aware of what a sight I must have been, I didn’t really care as Ralph Lauren was now in our hands for preparation – skinning, butchering, and eating of warm raw liver. I’ll leave those to your vivid mind.

And so the rest of the celebrations shall remain a warm memory – if anything for Ralph Lauren – whose hide is now hanging outside our tents for drying and tanning.

Something’s awry in the Animal Kingdom

I don’t have yet a birthday story, but one is surely to come. I write this blog as I wait for the goat to arrive that Eagle and his wife have picked out for the celebrations tonight. The Crew (friends that have become fellow goofies, wrestlers, confidants, counselors) pooled for tonight…and stories are surely to come. For now I write to recap yesterday’s events…..

It was not a usual day in the African jungle yesterday. Or maybe it was. I have yet to define 'usual'. I’ll recap the day and let your imaginations take the rest.

Its 6:30am and Eagle (formerly known as Nkori in my posts), Phillip and I are bouncing around off-roading in the truck in search for rhinos. We head off southwest to a block we hadn’t been in some time. Phillip looks over and mumbles something to Eagle in Swahili. Eagle is driving and takes a sharp turn down an unusued road and shuts off the engine. I look over and see a few people on top of a small hill next to us. I wonder what the heck these people are doing at this hour of the morning hard at work…and what work? Eagle and Phillip are suspicious and I feel the tension mounting. Eagle gets out, ducks down, and starts running up the hill in pursuit of the people that have now started off in a sprint after seeing us. Phillip explains to me they are illegal fetchers – it is illegal to gather and take firewood from the Lewa property.

Philip reports in to the Operations Room back at headquarters of what is going on and asks me if I am ok if he helps Eagle. I say of course, and wish I could run to help him too but I don’t know the landscape, don’t have the Lewa training, and I certainly don’t know the security protocols that are in place. Nevertheless, I’m happy to help wherever I can and jump in the driver’s seat to be able to follow the rangers. Eagle and Phillip are off in hot pursuit and I maneuver the vehicle down the roads for their easy access. Phillip returns to the vehicle and Eagle scours the area. Phillips says one fellow took off towards the forest, another took off towards a nearby community and two took off towards the centre of Lewa.

Unbeknownst to the fetchers, the Lewa security team is great at what they do best, respond and follow-up. I wait with Phillip who monitors the radio and walkie-talkie, and keeps me updated. I try to keep Sunthar (marketing intern) posted via text message as I figure good footage might be on back in the Ops Room. Phillip receives an update that one of the fetchers is caught by the armed team that formed a line on the opposite side of the hill to us. Turns out the man saw elephants and buffalo behind, and people ahead. He choose people.

Some of the rangers return to us and hop on the vehicle in pursuit of the other fetchers. Driving down these dirt roads usually involves a lot of care to avoid damage to the underside, however, this time other priorities take precedence and Eagle drives as one would down a well maintained freeway. We arrive at a spot they believe to be the last known sighting of the fellow and file out. I stay back with Philip and Kaporo and we discuss strategy and techniques. The training involved in becoming a ranger in Kenya is very impressive and knowing that the value of wildlife can be upheld to such high standards is amazing.

After searching the entire morning, the team heads to the spot where the fetchers were first spotted. I snap away pictures of the firewood (see above) for evidence collection for the security guys. The armed team heads off to headquarters and takes the fetcher with them. He will be taken to the nearby police station for questioning and will likely be delivered a hefty fine for trespassing.


And this was just the morning.

Watching the rangers at work, I am reminded of the pride of lions that we watched just a few days prior. It was the end of a long day. We were finishing up rhino tracking and poor Kate (vegetation intern) didn’t get to do any of her work as we spotted rhinos on the way to dropping her off. Rhinos took priority and it became too late in the day for Kate to complete anything. Eagle felt bad and asked me if Kate had seen any simbas (lion in Kiswahili) yet. I knew she hadn’t and Eagle and Fox discussed with other rangers to see about any lions around. We headed to a swampy area and all of a sudden amongst the tall grasses, four beautiful male lions raised their heads high enough for us to see.

The smiles on our faces were priceless and we snapped away our cameras. These four lions didn’t seem to notice as we followed them up a road and watched as they appeared to get closer to a herd of zebras.

The rangers were sure a slow hunt was in progress. We observed as one lion would perch atop a high branch and look around as the other three would overtake each other to get nearer to an unsuspecting zebra.

This went on for quite some time but darkness was falling. We turned back to head home, fully aware that something would happen under the full moon of the night. Hours later, we heard the grunts of the lions and the laughs of the hyenas as the success of the hunt was confirmed.

Yesterday afternoon’s events might be a result of this hunt, or perhaps another, its too hard to guess. If you picked that you’d rather be a Grevy’s zebra from my earlier post, you may not want to read further. To situate the setting, on Wed, Eagle, Phillip, and I spotted a Grevy’s zebra that had clear markings of a lion’s attack. Deep wounds caused the zebra to be slow in response to our vehicle and we managed to snap good pictures for reporting back to the heads of wildlife department. After seeing the pictures, it was clear that intervention would be necessary to give this dying individual a chance at survival amongst its endangered friends and family.

We gathered together at the vehicle. The head of security, Richard, ready with a mix of tranquilizing drugs and antibiotics, and we set off to find the suffering zebra. Another ranger in the field already had his eyes on it and it was relatively easy to find the animal. The weight was estimated, the drugs were mixed, and the animal was darted. The zebra took off and a few of us followed on foot while the others faced off in the vehicle. A towel was thrown over the eyes to calm the individual and was slowly led to ground for treatment.

The injuries were worse than how they appeared from a distance, and the smell of the oozing pus indicated the animal may not actually have a fighting chance at survival. Nevertheless, the wounds were cleaned as best as possible and it was decided to revisit the animal in a few days time. A reversal drug was administered and we watched with sad eyes as the animal slowly came to from his daze, with high hopes that we will see him again prancing around in the field dominating his territory.

It’s a common debate in wildlife management when it comes to issues of intervention. Some advocate that it’s a great thing to administer treatments, while others argue that nature should take its course without human influence. Either side can be discussed till we are blue in the face, but nothing really takes away from being close to this individual zebra in agony and distressed as a result of a fierce fight that surely left the lion in pain as well. The emotional lives of animals are related to cognition, and its quite hard not to extend a helping hand to a fellow intelligent, sentient, and dying being. We certainly do that for each other each day, or at least we are supposed to….

Just a few honours

A few days ago, heading out to the field with Nkori and Jacob, we give each other nicknames. Amazed at Nkori's abilities to track rhinos, I couldn't resist thinking Eagle was the most appropriate name. I am not (yet) able to pick out the grey shades of rhino amongst the grasslands and forests of Lewa. I thought I would be ok by now since I can relate this to polar bear season. Picking out a white-ish animal against a white-ish background gets to be routine after awhile. Now an arctic hare...those little furballs are something else. So back to rhinos....Eagle is appropriate. Now on to Jacob. He is a bit of a trickster. Trying to teach me Kiswahili and having me fail miserably at remembering the words, he laughs at his ways of joking with me as I search frantically in my head for the sounds that don't stick. I call him Fox. I wish I had my sister's language abilities; she would be fluent by now. My parents too; they would be speaking the tribal languages by now too.

I look up at the two rangers and try to decipher what they choose for me from their behaviours. A valuable lesson I have learned from studying animals is the somewhat predictable nature of behaviours. It gets easier to decode humans once their intentions are understood. This helps in other worlds....even amongst the Capoeiristas that speak portugese, I can sometimes conclude what is being communicated...unfortunately, Capoeira is all about malandragem (or trickery) and linear thinking is not always the case. Last weekend, I was able to meet up with a capoeira group when we (the 5 canucks and 1 yank - sounds like the beginning of a joke) headed into Nairobi for one of those ridiculous weekends. The capoeira group I met up with played a different style but the communication was all the same from what I have been taught back in Toronto. The familiar music was energizing and I was happy to play a few games. The lead instructor told me of his volunteer work in the slums of Nairobi, and some of the students I played against were from those regions of darkness that they essentially need to survive in. Their welcoming smiles is proof that anything is possible, and the dichotomy continues.

Sorry I digress. Eagle and Fox are discussing. I'm nervous, wondering what kind of perception I might have given off these past weeks around Lewa. And what does it mean for a Canadian woman to venture into the depths of Lewa, and head out to the field each day with the security guys for rhino tracking? I asked once about female rangers, and I came to learn there aren't any in the field. I don't believe the reasons for this are related to anything other than safety since Kenyan culture I understand to be open, accepting, and very welcoming. There might be a crucial role here for Rob and the Krav Maga crew!!! I am thus honored even more and feel lucky that I am allowed day after day to be in the field with the security guys.

Eagle and Fox decide on Mwendwa. I have no idea what it means. I look questioningly at them and wait for them to explain. Fox tells me its a Kimeru word. There are 42 tribes in Kenya, Eagle is Masaai and Fox is Kimeru. I come to understand that Mwendwa means someone who is well liked. I think it means a social butterfly kind of term. I am honored even more.