Tūrangawaewae

"a place to stand" where you’re solid, grounded where you feel connected and empowered your foundation, your place in the world, your home

[sarahbellotti]

Another #lockdown starts today. I’m itching for adventure yet stuck where I am. I’ll take a trip down memory lane this week instead. #confinement 🇹🇳 (at Chbika) https://www.instagram.com/p/COpQfBJLCgFvh-RjHBYBmWZKkmUDvmqMPEajDA0/?igshid=fn5ouzy4xu2m

[sarahbellotti]

Today was my first day flying solo as elementary literacy support; I’m pleased as punch. “I can go anywhere, with friends to know, and ways to grow... I can be anything. Just take a look, it’s in a book...” #ReadingRainbow (at American Cooperative School of Tunis) https://www.instagram.com/p/CMvFhpvrbXeQ7008Uv0oiH9mx8EgDfPAnVK4sg0/?igshid=154480zkhq8j2

[sarahbellotti]

2021 Tanzania Trip

map

[sarahbellotti]

Tanzania: Zanzibar

After a sack lunch in the outdoor waiting area and delicious ginger beer, the same pilots took us from Arusha to Zanzibar. I slept much of the flight. 

We had been told we could only bring 15 kg (just over 33 lbs.) so I wore my heaviest things to lighten my backpack. Disembarking in Zanzibar was a sweaty experience. There were what seemed like droves of tourists waiting around the derelict airport.

Our driver, Amor, picked us up in the crowded parking lot and drove us to a COVID-19 testing center. His boss met us at the gate and welcomed us, saying he was available at all hours for whatever we needed. He then told Ben not to get in any fights, which must be commonplace for some wazungu (plural muzungu). Beyond the gate, there were clusters of muzungu tourists, the majority of whom did not wear masks or distance themselves from others. We could overhear people saying their friends had tested positive, yelling that they had been ripped off, etc. The tenseness was as thick as the humidity in the air. 

While there, Ben sent this comical text message to a friend: “The best part was when I went over to the 2nd of like 5 administrative check-ins... and this [public health official] with her mask on her chin took some additional information, which included inquiring of my profession. When I said ‘diplomat’ she went on this long diatribe in Swahili to the driver who had taken [us] there, which I later found out meant I would get special treatment due to my elevated status. Said special treatment included being led to sit under a tent with plastic chairs that was approximately 10° C (50° F) hotter than the area the [others] were in under the trees. We waited there while the swabbers took their lunch break... at each subsequent station I would hear a lot of Swahili with the word ‘diplomat’ thrown in. The subsequent benefits afforded to me were equally unimpressive.”

The woman who took our professions down told me I looked like a cop with my face shield. I thought when she heard diplomat she wanted to have us offed but it turned out we were ushered through the different stations relatively quickly and left before most of the others who had gotten there before we had. As Amor would say (again, and again, and again): polé polé, hakuna matata.  

After leaving the testing center, we drove south to Kizimkazi. We stayed at the lush, tropically serene Kizikula for three nights. We relaxed, ate delicious fresh fruit and seafood, swam in the gorgeous pool, and watched nightly thunderstorms over the water and mainland 40 km (25 miles) across from us. We explored the property on a jog, walks, and climbing through a rocky tunnel to wade and float in the salty Menai Bay in front of our hotel. Our suite features an adjacent rooftop terrace where we enjoyed yoga with a view.

On our amblings, we purchased some Stoney ginger beer, inquired about taxis and tours to local attractions, and caught some soccer game action up the road on a dirt field with a view of the bay. 

Monday we found a man, Ibrahim, by the water who said he had a taxi. We said we wanted to go on a spice tour and asked about pricing. He gave the lowest price we’d been offered and was ready to go that afternoon, the only time we were available. He asked us to step inside his office to discuss. He walked us a few meters/yards away and opened a compartment of his motorbike — an impressive office indeed. He pulled out a laminated booklet with photos and misspelled tourist attractions. We told him to pick us up at 2 p.m. 

Ibrahim drove us to Kizimbani, where the government does agricultural research. Our guide, Ali, met us along a dirt road and walked us past ramshackle houses and gardens, pointing out how different spices grow. It was actually really beautiful and interesting in addition to being quite humorous. We saw and smelled peppercorn, vanilla, cardamom, turmeric, cinnamon, dill, clove, curry leaves, chili, nutmeg, and more. When Ali and his assistant showed us ginger, he said it was helpful for polygamist Muslim Zanzabaris since they needed a lot of power for their multiple wives. Chickens roamed around; Ali said because of what they eat, they didn’t need any seasoning when cooked as they were already spiced chickens. At the end of the tour, he led us to a stall with packaged spices for sale. We picked out some to purchase. I asked for more vanilla extract, which someone ran to get from elsewhere. There was a pavilion of men sitting around nearby and I couldn’t help but notice a lot of commotion. Eventually I saw a little bald man filling a large plastic bowl with water from a jerrycan putting the vanilla bottles in it. I waltzed over to investigate. They were trying to sell us store bought fake vanilla, without a trace of vanilla in it, trying to wash away the labels, in English and Arabic, so I would think they were authentic. I caught them red handed and we lessened our order but still got nice vanilla beans, nutmeg with their mace, cloves, star anise, and more.

Tuesday we checked out and got picked up by Amor. He drove us through Zanzibar City to Stone Town so we could explore and shop. We made our way to the Zanzibar Curio Shop, well reviewed on Trip Advisor and by Lonely Planet. We looked through three stories of antique treasures and were taken to a nearby warehouse and a separate workshop to see more. While we didn’t spring for an ornate antique Zanzibar chest, we did wind up with a small vintage piece and a large decorative Malawian cane basket.

While the items were packaged for our flight, we wandered in and out of coffee shops, to the place Freddie Mercury was born, and around the Old Fort. We enjoyed the sunset and a multi-course fusion dinner at Emerson. We opted for traditional seating on floor cushions. A traditional musician from the Dhow Countries Music Academy performed Taarab music. I ordered a glass of rosé, which showed up yellow. I insisted they had given me white wine. They brought the bottle up for me to inspect; they must have refilled it with some local swill because it was not what was expected. I drank it anyway.

After dinner, Amor drove us to the anarchic airport. Hoards of tourists jockeyed for position trying to get in the doors and to the one working x-ray machine (at the initial doors of many African airports). I was pulled aside having set off the metal detector. The female security agent accidentally pantsed me and then apologized; I think I probably laughed. Ben found a cart for our luggage, with three round wheels and one that had a not-so-handy flat edge. We bumped along to the business class check-in line. We were told they couldn’t let us travel without a hotel reservation in Tunisia. Wazungu swarmed around mostly unmasked. We were also told our PCR tests needed a stamp from an apparent health official across the room. I went to the table and waited behind an angry leather-skinned woman who was yelling at the Tanzanians and her children. The health workers were clearly done with her and waived me ahead. I got my stamps without them even seeming to read the papers. The angry tourist later berated some airline staff for not letting her fly without a COVID-19 test. We did have ours, and it only took about an hour to sort things out, frantically calling, emailing, and trying to make bogus reservations. We hurried through the next security point and then to immigration. There, I realized we didn’t have our boarding passes and ran back. Once at the gate, we pushed our way to the front and got on the business class bus to the plane. We changed planes in Doha, where it took us four attempts to get into a lounge. We made it back to cooler temperatures in Sidi Bou Saïd on schedule Wednesday.

[sarahbellotti]

You know you are truly alive when you’re living among lions.

Karen Blixen

[sarahbellotti]

Tanzania: Serengeti

From Ndutu, we drove into the Serengeti National Park, another UNESCO World Heritage Site; we took a shortcut to the Naabi Hill Gate instead of backtracking too much.

On our way across the plains, we saw a swarm of Land Cruisers circling a pride of lions. At the center were two brothers and a young zebra. Alladin reckoned one of the nearby lionesses had caught it and that the two males were now fighting for it. We parked and watched them growl and maneuver over different body parts for about 40 minutes.

Finally, the big brother broke the head and torso free and the little brother got the rump. They spread apart peacefully and ate the meat face to face lying in the grass.

We stayed at the luxurious Nanyukie — near the border of the Simiyu and Mara regions — for two nights, the longest we’d stayed anywhere since in arriving in Tanzania.

I was so exhausted I wanted to cut the Friday drive short so we could enjoy our lodging in all its splendor before flying across the country to Zanzibar on Saturday. Alladin urged us to be flexible and take our lunch on the road. We initially asked to have lunch at the camp; the second option was to have a nice hamper lunch in nature as opposed to our typical boxed lunches at one of the more frequented picnic sites. We agreed to option two and retired to our tent where we watched the sunset, ordered room service in our robes, and gazed at the stars until the fear of the lurking resident leopard drove us inside.

From bed, we could hear a nearby lion rumbling in the darkness. 

The next morning we awoke to dense fog. The staff said they had never experienced anything like it there. It felt mystical. 

We had breakfast after the fog lifted and headed out for our Friday drive. Throughout our safari, Alladin had been communicating with others on his radio, mostly in Kiswahili. Guides exchange tips on what to see and where. He knew I wanted to see leopard badly, the final of the Big 5 to see on this one trip. 

After stopping to try and help another truck that had gotten bogged down in some mud, we made our way to a kopje — a small usually rocky hill — where there were several other vehicles. Alladin said a mother leopard and cubs had been spotted but retreated behind the rocks or into the bushes. We parked, took out our binoculars, and waited. Other vehicles came and went. We stayed. Many of them had to return to their camps for lunch. We had ours with us so could remain and wait for the cats to reappear. Eventually, they did, and we were the only ones there at first. The mother leopard appeared, then one, and then a second cub, hardly a month old, if even. They climbed up a tree, lazed around, snuggled; the mother gazed out onto the plains while her babies nursed. We stared. It was stupendous!

We also saw jackal, eland, wildebeest, zebra, hyena, bloats of hippopotami, elephants, slender mongoose, banded mongoose, hyrax, Coke’s hartebeest, parades of elephants, towers of giraffes, herds of Grant’s gazelle, impala, troops of vervet monkeys, warthog, a serval about to pounce on a confusion of guineafowl, topi, and leopard turtle. Ostrich, stork, white-headed buffalo weaver, hornbill, secretary bird, gray heron, the shiny blue superb starling we’d seen perhaps almost every day, lizard buzzard, and black-chested snake eagle rounded out our feathered friends, in addition to the yellow barbet at our hamper lunch picnic site Friday.

After lunch Ben was determined to stop at a scenic spot to snap some photos since we didn’t get the picturesque lunch we’d imagined. He asked Alladin to pull over near an oncoming parade of elephants, to which he laughed dismissively. After passing the sign to our camp, he eventually circled an acacia tree to check for any predators in the grass and asked if it would do. Ben agreed and we stepped down from our vehicle. I asked if I could tinkle and was told this was not a bathroom break. 

Ben knelt down, reached into his pants pocket, and pulled out my great grandmother’s diamond ring, which he had taken from my nightstand before we left Tunisia. He said something along the lines of, “What do you say we spend the rest of our lives making adventures together?” to which I replied, “Sure, why not?” (We both kind of blacked out and don’t remember exactly.)

Alladin had been in front of us with the camera Ben borrowed and his iPhone. He said sorry, I had it on video; you’ll have to do that all again, which made us all laugh. We hopped back onto our magic carpet, smiling and trembling as we made our way back to camp.

The CEO of Lemala had been with us the past few nights. She greeted us with some of the local staff, asking how our drive was and what we saw. I said I couldn’t even remember as Ben had just proposed. She congratulated us, asked to see the ring, and ordered a bottle of bubbles to be sent to our tent. She had a special dinner spot set up for us overlooking the sunset (which we unfortunately missed as we watched it from our deck).

We had dinner and sat by the fire for a bit before heading to bed. 

At some point on safari, though I can't remember where and when, I am pretty sure we also saw wydah, dove, northern white-crowned shrike, magpie shrike, red-billed hornbill, Abyssinian Ground-hornbill, Von der Decken’s hornbill, francolin, and most of the animals profiled in this album.

Saturday morning we packed up and had breakfast. Alladin drove us to Seronera Airstrip along with the pilots who also stayed at our camp. We sat toward the front of the plane. We picked up a couple of passengers at the Ndutu Airstrip and then flew over the NCA, Great Rift Valley escarpment, and on to Arusha.

[sarahbellotti]

At Naabi Hill, the eastern portal of the Serengeti Park, three lionesses lay torpid on a zebra. Vultures nodded in the low acacias, and the hyenas, wet hair matted like filth on their sagging bellies, dragged themselves, tails tight between their legs, from the rain wallows in the road.

Peter Matthiessen The Tree Where Man Was Born

[sarahbellotti]

“You watch my back; I’ll watch yours.”

[sarahbellotti]

At Naabi Hill, the wildebeest were moving east after the rains. In their search for new growth, wildebeest are often seen trooping steadfastly over arid country toward distant thunderstorms, which bring a flush of green to the parched landscapes. Some two hundred thousand were in sight at once, with myriad zebra and the small Thomson's gazelle.

Peter Matthiessen The Tree Where Man Was Born

[sarahbellotti]

[sarahbellotti]

When the Sun has risen and the morning's hunt has slowed, the cats may resort to the rock islands. Perhaps they seek shade, or the vantage point of higher elevation — for the leopard its kopje is a hideout between raids... the granite heads are a refuge from the great emptiness of the plain.

Peter Matthiessen The Tree Where Man Was Born

[sarahbellotti]

Tanzania: Ndutu

From the once fiery volcano, today a Garden of Eden-like caldera, we drove northwest toward the border between the Arusha and Simyu regions.

On the way to our tented camp, we saw a kori bustard doing a funny mating display, which made me feel like I was living in a nature documentary; Kori bustards are the world’s heaviest flying birds so the dance and feather fluffing were quite the sight. We also saw a leopard turtle, another skulk of bat-eared fox, helmeted guineafowl, and a lone drooling wildebeest in a wooded area, seemingly very ill, who would probably become someone’s dinner that night. 

Around what I think is part of Ndutu Lake, or maybe Lake Masek, there were about 50 dead bloated wildebeest in the water. Apparently they had drowned during a crossing, perhaps trampled by the others. The stench was strong and followed us a ways.

Later, a bunch of Land Cruisers were parked on a grassy hillock around some cheetah; down the hill we could see a tower of giraffes near the water.

Once we arrived at camp, zebras were grazing in front of our tent, where we enjoyed our happy hour together.

On the fourth day of the safari in Ndutu, we saw hartebeest, dik dik, hyena, zebra, giraffe, and a pride of lions. We saw ostrich, flamingo, more guineafowl, a tawny eagle, black shoulder kite, black belly bustard, crowned lapwing, avocet, lark, swallow, stork, including the scavenger marabou stork, and venues of vultures circling and feeding on the dead floating wildebeest. 

Around lunchtime, we saw a cheetah eating a young gazelle in a bush. Later we got to witness a cheetah mother and her cub slowly sneak up on and finally chase two gazelles. As they were creeping closer to their potential prey, Alladin pointed to the horizon; a stream of wildebeest were marching single file, like a colony of ants, down a hill. We admired the natural wonder all around us. The gazelles were moving farther away and the cheetahs seemed out of range. Eventually, they pounced and darted toward the antelope pair. Despite their speed, the cheetahs missed and the gazelles ran free.

[sarahbellotti]

Wilderness gave us knowledge. Wilderness made us human. We came from here. Perhaps that is why so many of us feel a strong bond to this land called Serengeti; it is the land of our youth.

Boyd Norton

[sarahbellotti]

One day, by a depression that holds water in the rains, I found a chopped flake of obsidian, much used by primitive man for his edged tools. There is no obsidian on the plain; the chip had been brought here long before. I wondered about the men who brought it — what size and color were they? Were they in hides or naked? What cries did they utter? Staring at the Sun, the sky, were they aware of their own being, and if so, what did they think?

Peter Matthiessen The Tree Where Man Was Born

[sarahbellotti]

Tanzania: Ngorongoro

After a morning game drive and adorable boxed lunch — made from handwoven banana leaves — in Tarangire, we headed north to the Ngorongoro Conservation Area (NCA). 

The NCA is a truly awe-inspiring World Heritage Site, spanning more than 3,000 square miles of "vast expanses of highland plains, savanna, savanna woodlands and forests, from the plains of the Serengeti National Park in the northwest, to the eastern arm of the Great Rift Valley (UNESCO). The NCA "has yielded an exceptionally long sequence of crucial [archaeological] evidence related to human evolution and human-environment dynamics, collectively extending from four million years ago to the beginning of this era, including physical evidence of the most important benchmarks in human evolutionary development” such as the development of human bipedalism: home to Homo habilis, Homo erectus, and Homo sapiens (UNESCO).

After a pit stop at the NCA welcome center, where there seemed to be more baboons than vehicles, we drove to the scenic overlook. It was moving. Tears welled up in my eyes. Beholding the natural beauty, reflecting on the history of the volcanic transformation of the landscape, the evolution of animal life, including our primogenitors, was spectacularly overwhelming. We took a few photos and drove northeast partway around the rim, through what felt like lush tropical jungle, toward our next glamping site. 

Our tented camp was nestled under gorgeous umbrella acacia trees, illuminated by the golden light of the setting sun. Unbeknownst to us at the time, safari ants had also made our tent their home. Once we walked out to enjoy the fire pit, I realized something was wrong. We picked dozens of them out of my hat and clothing; thankfully they didn’t all bite me! The staff kept reminding us that this was their home before ours, true of course. After dinner with another American couple, we got back to our tent and realized the ants were both inside and out and requested to be moved. Even though I sat most of the time in the Land Cruiser, bumping along all day was somehow exhausting and I couldn’t bare the thought of a sleepless night being pestered by insects real or imagined. Our next tent was relatively bug free and we made it through the night safe and sound.

The third day of the safari, we descended into the Ngorongoro Crater, actually a caldera, known as “heaven of the earth” and “natural zoo,” both very fitting nicknames. On the way there from camp, I spotted what our guide thought was a pearl spotted owlet sitting on a tree branch. 

Inside the caldera, we were mesmerized by the scenery as well as resident animals, including but not limited to butterflies, eland, bushbuck, wildebeest, hyena, serval, a thunder of noisy hippopotamuses, cape buffalo, jackal, Grant’s gazelle, Thomson’s gazelle, warthog, and a family of bat-eared fox. Much to my delight, off in the distance, we saw a handful of the elusive and critically endangered black rhinoceros, the fifth of the Big 5 for me after almost eight years since my first safari. 

We found a lion inside a large pipe at a quarry site, which was being used to improve the dirt roads. We got out for a pit stop at the marsh with the hippos, where yellow birds fluttered in and out of our Land Cruiser.

We saw countless birds: Egyptian geese, ostrich, Rufus tail weaver, cattle egret on the backs of the bigger beasts, a gray heron eating a frog, blacksmith lapwing or plover, masked weaver, pelican, augur buzzard, sandpiper, black-capped avocet, as well as different types of cranes, storks, and several flamboyances of lesser and greater flamingos.

Much of the caldera is grassy; not many trees grow there. Apparently, the soil is not favorable to trees, which means the ecosystem is not favorable to giraffes. 

On the way out, we drove through enchanting acacia woods, trying to no avail to spot a leopard and check off the fifth of the Big 5 for that day. 

Besides not seeing any giraffe or leopard, we also didn’t see many humans. Thanks to the COVID-19 pandemic, our game drives were almost private events. Prior to the pandemic, hundreds of cars descended into the crater even before midday; we saw maybe two dozen.

We lunched at a picnic site, keeping an eye out for the birds we were told would swoop down and steal our food.

After finishing lunch, we drove through more of the NCA: around the Malanja Depression, past a skull statue marking the Olduvai Gorge paleoanthropological site on the eastern Serengeti Plain, catching glimpses of herds of livestock grazing between Maasai villages and giraffes walking along the hilltops. We also saw zeals of thousands of zebra and confusions of wildebeest, including countless foals and calves. It is, after all, the calving season. Alladin told us the zebra and wildebeest migrate together, the zebras’ memories and eyesight complementing the wildebeests’ gift for smelling the rains. He reckoned we saw about a million wildebeest that day on the Serengeti Plains.

[sarahbellotti]

There is something about safari life that makes you forget all your sorrows and feel as if you had drunk half a bottle of champagne — bubbling over with heartfelt gratitude for being alive.

Karen Blixen

[sarahbellotti]

On our morning game drive out of Tarangire National Park, we saw several different types of animal families gathered in the same area, grazing, playing, and roughhousing.