Kobe

Wednesday, February 19, 2020

An ode to the porters of Kilimanjaro

We are here to fulfill our dream of climbing Kilimanjaro. And here you are climbing the mountain every other week to fulfill your individual dreams of becoming a farmer, becoming a tourguide, dream of becoming unshackled from the rigors and burden of hoisting us, tourists on to the mountaintop.

The irony of our dual goals is not lost on us as we scramble daily to remain dry amidst the constant downpour. Our guides tell us it's a blessing in disguise. The rain constantly recycles the freshness of the air, keeping it replenished with much needed oxygen for our starving lungs. We had the air knocked out of us just the day before we were scheduled to start our climb. In a cruel twist of fate, Kobe & his daughter Gigi and seven others were snatched too soon from us. True to mamba style, we resolved to do our best to honor Kobe and his unmatched determination to be better than the rest, better than Mike.

Rain, our constant companion in the 6-day climb, kept us wet, just uncomfortable enough to savor the day's end at the campsite. The entire crew was amazing, constantly working to dry our gear, most importantly the boots, so much so one day Afraeli, one of the team, came back to the tent with a sheepish grin and shoes that were toasty and smelled like bbq :) Chef David made the right mix of soups, carb laden pastas and meals to keep us energized and the guides shut out any talk of how we are doing pace-wise or what was ahead more than a day in front. It was simple - pole-pole and sippy sippy. Walk slow and easy, drink plenty of water throughout. And drink we did, how can there be any water left on the mountain at the rate at which we are gulping it. The wonders of diamox, the altitude adjustment meds, comes with a complementary curse -  you have to drink water constantly to let it do its thing. And that meant peeing the whole time. In the cold and wet night, we had to scramble out of the tent to pee several times. I was going to reflect on life, ponder some heavy topics during the trek and instead my mind was constantly flooded with recurring urges to pee!!  My dreams all had the same abrupt ending - I was rushing to relieve myself mid-scene. A couple of nights though, we were treated to spectacular, starry skies with the shining mountain in the backdrop.

The flora and scenery on the climb was unique, unlike anything we've experienced in diversity and shapes on any single mountain. Being so big, atleast 5 different ecological zones are thriving and each comes with it's own set of flowering plants, ground-hugging vegetation and critters. Starting with the cultivation zone on the lowlands, where crops like banana, maize and coffee are grown on the well-watered slopes, giving way to the montane forests upto about 2800m. The forests are filled with ample bird song, chatter among colobus and blue monkeys and fluttering butterflies in a canopy of wildflowers in all their tropical glory. Bearded lichen sway back and forth on tree branches and contrast with the resplendent colors and emerald green of the forest floor. Next up is the most distinctive and defining zone on the mighty mountain - the healthlands and the moorlands. Giant lobelias and towering groundsels or Dendrosenecio kilimanjari dot this landscape. Dead leaves are never shed, instead forming an insulating layer to protect the plant's core. These giant groundsels are a study in evolution nurtured by the mountain over the course of hundreds of thousands of years. White-necked ravens seemed like they tagged on from home, keeping us familiar company and at times the only life in sight amid misty and dreamy curves along the trail. Scenes from LOTR and 'the never ending story' drift in my head as we amble along the ethereal slopes and valleys that dominate days 2 and 3.

 Now the end of day 3 was a tale in itself. The itinerary calls for a long day's hike upto Lava tower which stands at 15000 and some feet for acclimatization before descending to Baraanco camp at a much lower 13000 ft. On our way down from Lava tower, things turned chaotic. We heard several guides shouting warnings in Swahili at the top of their lungs amid loud, crashing noises. A group ahead of us was crossing over a raging stream made turbid by months of incessant rain when suddenly there were calls to stop. A massive landslide got set off along what was now a violent river and boulders the size of buildings came crashing down. We were in shock and watching the spectacle unfold. The group that was crossing was splintered in half and the other half was stranded with the rest of us on this side of the mountian. Nature's fury unfolded righ before our eyes for a good 40 mins or so and finally some of the guides collectively decided to turn back. A smaller stream that we had just crossed a short while back turned into it's own horror show of a landslide and rocks came crashing down there as well. We were caught in between the dueling slides and I could hear fleetwood mac ominously singing landslide at our group funeral! Another 30 mins later, this slide subsided and water began to flow once again in the place of rocks. We made our way back up the punishing steep slope once again to the top of Lava tower. We had pretty much given up on forward progress at that point and were resigned to getting off the mountain in one piece, albeit a few days earlier. Our guide Joseph, who is a study in patience and cool proved his grasp of the mountian and it's varied moods. Rather than continue retreat like some of the other groups, he chose to wait and wait.
And it paid off, the mountain eventually calmed down and some of the porters from our group who had crossed over came back to assure us things are well once again. We were heaved across the once scary chasm and made it to camp in moonlight and pensive silence. What a relief!

One of the highlights of the hike, is the scramble up Barranco wall which was shaped by violent lava shearing and collapsing a side of the mountain. Several hugs and kisses to the wall later and helped at times by our guides who helped bridge my 5 foot reach across wider breaks in the jagged wall, we reached the top of the wall followed by Karanga camp for the evening. This is in highland desert territory, all the way till 5000m. The landscape is barren and alien like Mars. This eventually gives way to the arctic zone, marked by scree, snow and the last vestiges of the glaciers.

Switching gears to the team that makes it all happen. Our group was two guides, Joseph and Ismail aka Suma, a cook - David, a guide-in-apprenticeship MBaeni and 10 porters with each porter limited to carrying 20 kilos on his/her back. Yes, there are the occasional female porters too. Recent rules established by the union has brought some welcome changes to the climbing tours and conditions of the porters and are enforced very rigidly by the authorities at the gates where we set off. The porters in their stride like gazelles, sprint at unbelievable speeds while at the same time balancing the heavy loads on their shoulders or heads. They set off last after breaking down camp every morning and are all magically set up and ready when we reach the next campsite in the evening - majji moto (hot water) in hand and wide smiles masking a hard day's work. At the outset, we felt like the sheer size of the group was over the top. Not like we were breaking a pioneering path along a never before trodden mountain and we are used to carrying all our stuff in our backpacks in our forays in the wilderness. But our guides assured us, this is all 'good' income for the locals and not to worry ourselves guilty about what seemed like needless luxury - a portable toilet for ourselves, hot food for every meal, warm water bottles to tuck in our sleeping bags to keep us warm in the freezing nights and a dedicated customer rep of sorts among the crew to tend to any request we had! In short, we were pampered and kept in good spirits the whole time.

Day 6 and we arrived early at the last camp before summit, at Barafu - an elevation of 15,000 ft. Nervous and anxious, we plan all the details, our attire, food and hydration. Took around 20 mins to put on 4 layers of clothes on the top and another four on the bottom and turn ourselves into stuffed dolls ready for a night on the cold slopes. Rain had turned into snow that afternoon and promptly at midnight after downing another hot porridge made miraculously at that ungodly hour at that ungodly elevation, we set off. Lines of headlamps snake around the dark edges the whole time and 6 hours later, welcome streaks of red dawn broke through the sky revealing a snowy mountaintop cloaked in sheer, blinding white.  Mawenzi, one of the three peaks (Kibo and Shira are the other two) is stunning in the morning light and our muted trudge continues till Stella point. It's a few hundred feet from here till Uhuru peak, 'Freedom' in Swahili. A quick history on the name Uhuru Peak aka Freedom Peak. The peak was named Uhuru in 1961 to celebrate the independence of then Tanganyika from British colonial rule. An army officer climbed to the top of the moutain and hoisted the national flag at the peak. Tanganyika later joined together with Zanzibar islands to form Tanzania.


After about 45 mins along the rim, between glacier on one side and the crater on the other, we make it to the said point of Freedom, the roof of the great continent of Africa. Note in hand proclaiming our love for Kobe, we take a few pics and murmur silent goodbyes to Mamba. On our way down, gazing at the deceptive snowcover, it's hard not to draw parallels between the dwindling and scarce glaciers atop Kili to the fate of the entire planet balanced precariously in our bungling hands. Are more mountains on this beautiful earth, going to turn into brown ghosts of their former snowy glory? Creating in turn arid, desolate foothills that were once thriving and rich ecosystems sustaining abundant life now only existing in lore. Will the elephant herds of Amboselli fade away into mere images in coffeetable books and relegated to the history channel :( The rapture of monkeys and birds in the forest below dispel the foggy thought and the entire team breaks into the customary Kilimanjaro song at the base. More Mambo-Jambo-Abari-NZuri till we reach the gate and Hakuna matata for now.

Mamba...out!