Saturday, February 26, 2011

A robbery, a rainstorm – hedgehogs: how not to climb Mt. Meru

Our new friend Max in the foreground, our tent in the background keeping out the rain like a champ.

MESERANI, Tanzania – It’s neither difficult nor terribly expensive to set up a guided, outfitted trek up Tanzania’s second-highest peak, Mt. Meru, but I didn’t let that stop me from doing it the hard way to avoid the tour companies (in part to stick it to their touts – some of the worst people in Africa) and save a few bucks.
Being in a national park with cape buffalo, a species with the temperament of Archie Bunker and much bigger horns, you are required to hire an armed park ranger to fend off angry bovines and show you the way up the 15,000-foot peak. First I had to get to the park gate with no car, which meant two rides on the dalla-dalla (the over-stuffed, crash-happy minibuses) totaling nearly two hours, which brought me to a dirt road the driver assured me went to Arusha National Park. Now, some locally-based ex-pats I had talked to were pretty sure there were taxis to take me the last stretch, but all I saw was some guys on aging motorcycles at the junction yelling something in Swahili, so I started walking down the dirt road to get my bearings.
After about half a mile seeing only the rickety motorcycles going by, I stopped at a local store to inquire the distance (maybe I could walk) and grab a water. The woman behind the counter spoke almost no English, so I pantomimed: “Arusha Park gate, far?” (I put my hands far apart) “Or close?” (I put my hands together). To answer she put her hands as far apart as possible. So I walked back to the junction and asked the motorcycle guys if there taxis to the park. They smiled and pointed at their bikes.
Fortunately the road was so shitty, the motorcycle driver couldn’t go very fast and my first back-of-a-motorcycle taxi ride went very smoothly. He dropped me at the gate where a ranger named Oswald sat down with me to talk about climbing the mountain. He said my plan to climb with just a ranger was no problem and also mentioned that he happened to run a taxi service and would I like a ride from the junction at three times the going rate? (“My friend, I don’t do this to make money, only as a service.”)
Everything was set, I was almost back to the campground and, as I was switching minibuses for the last time, a passenger in front of me stopped, and stooped down pretending his bag was stuck in the seat, blocking my way. I quickly (but not quickly enough) figured out the scam looked over my shoulder and saw his buddy leaning into me, elbowed his buddy hard in the chest and pushed my way off the van, which took off before I could shout “Thief.” I checked my money and my pockets and everything seemed to be there.
It wasn’t until I was on the last dalla-dalla home that I realized my ATM card was missing. It was a grim, helpless-feeling 40-minute ride back. Thanks to Jonathan  (previous post), a Maasai warrior and one of the kindest people I’ve met on this trip, I was able to get in touch with my bank despite having no cell phone and being in a village with no internet. In the end the dalla-dalla dirtbags got nothing more than a piece of plastic and a good chunk of my pride.
Predictably, a rumble of thunder accompanied my hangdog walk back to the tent to tell Connie what happened. I hate clichés. So it was time for a Safari Lager. As we drank the rain intensified, building to monsoon status. The bar was dry, but surely the trail to the top of Meru was a mess. Our hike was off, my mood was grim.
Then, something dark and oblong caught my eye. I looked down and there, in the middle of the bar was a hedgehog, sniffing around with its slightly elephantine nose. The bar was crowded, tippling patrons loudly talking, but the little guy showed no fear. He pressed on, searching for insects amidst the clamor, leisurely skittering by the bar, through the lounge and back out into the darkness of the garden.
It’s a scientifically proven fact that you cannot be upset in the presence of hedgehogs, so I came to peace with the events of the day and the non-starter of a climb, and looked forward to Malawi.

No comments:

Post a Comment