May I Have This Harem, Please?

The road less traveled
A tent, sort of
Dinner, "Out of Africa" style
Family squabbles
Lions, leopard, and stuck, oh, my!

It's mostly downhill and all dirt, as one leaves Kijabe in any direction. With recent rains, the rocks and ruts were especially exposed and accentuated, as we came down the mountain on the way to a paved road. The early part of the trip was very slow and very rough, but the scenery was beautiful. The previous Monday, we arrived in Kijabe to find fog and rain. By Saturday, the day was wonderfully clear, and the descent into Rift Valley brought grateful smiles to our faces.

The next two hours were on a modern asphalt highway ("tarmac," they call it). Rather than "Reduced Speed Ahead" signs as we approached small villages along the way, there were speed humps: some smaller, some larger, but all effective in reducing our already relatively slow (80  kph/50 mph) cruising speed. No traffic lights (no electricity) nor warning signs exist for the people randomly crossing the road, so the speed humps have to get the job done.

After some time, the tarmac gave way to an improved gravel road; then, a stretch less so; then, better road...when suddenly, our driver turned onto a dirt trail, leaving road improvements behind. "This is a shortcut," he said. I don't know whether it was actually shorter in time taken, because this was slow, sometimes four-wheel drive territory. I had no idea how he remembered all the turns (three months since his last visit), but he took us right to the gate of Fig Tree Camp.

Peter, our driver, commented that most of the camps in the Mara were established by Indians who had come to Kenya, leased land, and built these resort destinations.  The landscaping is beautiful: bougainvillea mixed in arches over the paved lighted pathways. An added attraction was free-roaming monkeys and baboons walking along from time to time.

We stayed  in a tent, sort of. There was a standard tiled bathroom with running water, flush toilet, sink, and a closet, but you had to walk through your tent bedroom to get there. The tent had screen windows with roll-up flaps and a center opening that zipped but didn't lock. Inside were twin and full canopy beds with mosquito netting, a night stand and area rug, and electric lamps. A mix of old and new, it had the appearance of camping out without really having to do so. The bed was reasonably comfortable, and hot water was  available several hours morning and night. Electricity was turned off for a few hours daily to conserve or service the generator, which was the only power source. Nothing really separated ,you from neighbor noise, but we slept pretty well. I don't know that I'd choose it for a honeymoon.

We watched the Redford/Streep movie, "Out of Africa," again right before the  trip, and besides the breathtaking scenery, our meals resembled it, or a cruise, more than a little. You sat at the same table with the same wait staff for every meal, and the desserts were a little too exotic to please traditional southern American tastes (No chocolate cake or pie; nothing coconut or banana or pecan?) 

The wait staff were  ultra-courteous, and then there were these Nehru jackets (Indian ownership...). They were accustomed only to have tea or coffee after dinner; iced tea was never mentioned. And the reminder from the bathroom: "It is not recommended to drink the tap water." The food was still decent, though, and the safari drives brought you back pretty hungry.

I really didn't know animals kept harems, but they certainly did here in the Mara ("spotted plain"). Impalas (no, not your typical Chevy) had a patriarchal structure in which one male controlled all the females and sired all the young. As the young males matured, they walked in a separate herd alongside the chief male and "harem," but at a safe distance. When one of the other males challenged and defeated the chief, the victor assumed the role of chief and took over the females. One male might have charge of fifty females and their young.

Lions had a more violent system. When another male defeated the head lion, he subsequently killed all the cubs sired by the previous chief, and began replacing them with his own. The females did the hunting, but Dad got to eat first.

Elephants were matriarchal. We saw a group consisting of the head female out front, a group of males and females of various ages in the middle, and the oldest male at the back. Our guide indicated that the lead female must have been about to go into heat, because in a few minutes the old male was chasing her with an obvious sixth appendage (counting the trunk) about the size of my leg, apparently with fatherhood in mind. 

The female was faster, perhaps due in part to the fact that she was younger than he, and perhaps also because, in his current condition, he was trying to run while dodging thorn bushes. Regardless, he eventually slowed and gave up, and she was safe from motherhood one more day.

We had plenty of excitement that first safari drive, having seen three of the "big five" (lions, elephants, and Cape Buffalo, with only rhinos and leopards remaining). As we continued, our driver separated from the others and took us to a river bank. There, climbing up the other embankment, was a leopard, seeming to ignore us. We watched quietly as he disappeared among the bushes and reappeared at the top of the ridge, walking out of sight. On our first day, already four of the "big five!"

Then, our guide became bold, maybe in an Evel Knievel way. He decided that we could cross where the leopard and some other vehicles had crossed, and down the embankment we went. And we would have made it, had we been in a Land Cruiser instead of a fortified minivan. Of all the things the customized van was given, extra ground clearance was not among them. Halfway up the other bank, we high-centered on the dirt trail and became seriously stuck: no forward, no back, and a leopard recently seen walking right where we sat.

Leopards are among the most aggressive predators,  very strong and willing to attack almost anything edible or perceived as threatening. Their "M.O." is to kill prey and carry it up into a tree for dinner. In other words, if you try to escape a leopard by climbing a tree, you've just saved him a step. Peter indicated that the leopard would not kill us for food, but he would attack to protect what he considered his territory.

Having seen a leopard attack an overly-curious tourist on another tour, he was afraid to get out to try to dislodge the van, and the two-way radio wasn't working. He was on his cell phone, calling for help, but he couldn't relay our position very well because we were down in a ravine, and people couldn't see us from the road. 

Within an hour, as dark was approaching, the second vehicle we heard was close enough that our driver risked leaving the van to flag it down. A gentleman from our camp arrived.  Tammy and I stepped out of the van to help him lift and push, and the van broke free. We all got out of the way as Peter launched the van up the embankment and back onto the road. We got back in and headed to camp, little the worse for wear but definitely wide awake.

We were very grateful the leopard trusted us to take care of ourselves rather than returning to take care of us himself.