QBLOG #44 One Tin Soldier

Fridays are always interesting days in Iraq. They are holy days here and in the past have usually been quiet. Fridays have not been quiet for a long time now. Each of the religious groups be it Sunni or Shi'ite have decided this is the best day to attack each other. It is very sad. There have been many explosions and gun fire this past Friday. Normally things would calm down on Saturday, but nothing is normal anymore. Three days passed before the Iraqi's who work for us were able to return to work. I greeted one of the Iraqi men I know out in our parking lot as they were preparing to depart Camp Liberty. I was concerned and asked how he and his family were. He told me that things have really gotten crazy and that everyone is shooting at everyone. " You don't know who to trust and so you trust no one." He and his family do not leave their house, even though the electricity does not work most of the time. He says it is better to live in heat of the house than to go out and chance getting shot or killed. Our conversation is cut short because the guards are ready to escort them out to the east gate on the Airport road. This gate has now been hit with car bombs twice. The mood changes and the 15 men who were able to make it to work load up in three cars headed back to their homes in the unprotected part of Baghdad known as the Red Zone.

It is now Ramadan. You hear two different types of events in the news media. It is getting better and under control. It is getting worse and things are falling apart. The sad part is both are true. If you live in the Green Zone and you pass the barriers and check points, things do in fact seem to be getting better. If you are out in the Red Zone as most Iraqis are, things are worse. More murder, more mayhem, more of everything except hope. I am friendly with a young Iraqi who works for us. I have not seen him or the other Iraqi's in some time. We greet each other though his manner is more cautious. There is a change in him and in his eyes. He normally greets me with a warm embrace and hand shake. Today it is very short. There is concern in his eyes. I ask again about his family and him. He simply says that death is everywhere and fear is constant. He feels safe here at work, but worries what he will go home to in the evenings. He says "you do not stop to talk to anyone anymore for fear that they will kill you. We are like the walking dead, eyes only forward praying that we make it safely home and that those we left at home are also safe.".

I can't imagine what that is like. I'd like to think I can, but I can't. For all intents and purpose, we living at Camp Liberty are removed from such terror. Are families are safe and comfortable in the U.S. We are for the most part, safe and comfortable on Liberty. We have food, water, electricity everyday. We get mortars and hear gunfire and feel the IED's, but it is not a constant fear on our minds. Certainly nothing like not being able to leave your home for fear of being shot or killed. Not living with electricity that is now up to about 30% of capacity in and around Baghdad. Not having to worry if we will return to our home alive or find our family kidnapped or dead. I cannot imagine what that is like.

Back in my youth I had considered politics as something worthy of a career; of a life to lead. I had begun to groom myself for such a life while I was in High School and sought to emulate Abraham Lincoln and John F. Kennedy. My friendships were diverse as were my interests. I would be elected Vice President of the Student Body and President of the Speech Team my Junior year and President of the Student Body my Sr. Year. I had big plans and big dreams. My first year in college everything changed. My intention was to major in Political Science, but current events of the time showed me an ugly side of politics that I felt I could not be part of nor would I be allowed to be part of politics.

Then religion is something I thought would work for me. I soon discovered that religion and politics were very similar and both tend to create divisions rather than bridges. The world seems to be filled with a desire for many to take what others have or not to allow others the same things they have. That is what politics and religion represent to me. I'm reminded of The Legend of Billy Jack. A song from that movie comes to mind today as another VBIED goes off near the Slayer gate right off of Road Irish. One Tin Soldier.

One Tin Soldier (The Legend of Billy Jack)
by Lambert-Potter, sung by Coven

Listen, children, to a story
That was written long ago,
'Bout a kingdom on a mountain
And the valley-folk below.

On the mountain was a treasure
Buried deep beneath the stone,
And the valley-people swore
They'd have it for their very own.

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won't be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgment day,
On the bloody morning after....
One tin soldier rides away.

So the people of the valley
Sent a message up the hill,
Asking for the buried treasure,
Tons of gold for which they'd kill.

Came an answer from the kingdom,
"With our brothers we will share
All the secrets of our mountain,
All the riches buried there."

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won't be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgment day,
On the bloody morning after....
One tin soldier rides away.

Now the valley cried with anger,
"Mount your horses! Draw your sword!"
And they killed the mountain-people,
So they won their just reward.

Now they stood beside the treasure,
On the mountain, dark and red.
Turned the stone and looked beneath it...
"Peace on Earth" was all it said.

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won't be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgment day,
On the bloody morning after....
One tin soldier rides away.

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won't be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgment day,
On the bloody morning after....
One tin soldier rides away.

In the past, One Tin Soldier in my minds eye was a soldier like King Arthur's knights, riding away into the sunset. Today that soldier is like the tin man in "The Wizard of OZ" and rides away wondering what the purpose of war is/was and seeking the heart he felt he once had. Being in Iraq, you see how this place, this ware affects those around you, Iraqi and American alike. You see changes in soldiers' attitudes and demeanor. You see the effect on the civilians here supporting those soldiers. Last year people were talking about being here as a patriotic duty, to support our soldiers. Now most of that is gone. There is no patriotic duty or gesture. It portends to get worse. I pray I am wrong. But my Iraqi brother's eyes say it will get much worse before it gets better.

I want to have, to believe in the ideals I had when I was in High School. I want to believe that the world will do what is right, that politics will resolve differences and that religion will bring people together. I want to believe that, but I don't. I think of this young Iraqi and his family, his friends. They are surviving as they must. They want the same things that each of us wants, a home, a family, a future...peace. But there is no peace and there is little room to believe much of the future. Maybe it will show up when that last soldier rides away from the hole where peace was buried. That One Tin Soldier who rides away looking for the heart of the world. There is no good solution. We cannot stay and we cannot go. Maybe....maybe if we pray hard enough that politics will act and religion will bridge the gaps, maybe then we will see the valley folk reach up to the mountain kingdom in a gesture of goodwill... and peace will be shared. Maybe.

Robert

QBLOG #43 Pole! Pole! Go down slowly...

01 & 02 Sep 2006, Uhuru, Kibo, Mandara Huts, Marangu Gate, Arusha.



"Pole! Pole!" This is what we are saying to people that we are passing as we head down from Uhuru (which we did not do slowly) to Kibo. When we reach Kibo we are able to grab a little bit of sleep before heading down to Mandara Huts. We are exhausted. We have a little to eat and drink and we are fast asleep. Thaddeus wakes us around noon so we can head down to Mandara Huts where we will spend the night. And though we tell others Pole! Pole!, to an extent, we do this ourselves. We head down slowly. There is an opportunity to see the ground we previously traveled. It is not disappointing.

We arrive at Mandara Huts, sign in and are assigned a cabin. We have a new roommate, Jacques from the French Alps. He is a ski instructor by trade and has just finished climbing Mt. Kenya. He is what you might expect a French Ski Instructor to look like. Boyishly handsome in his mid 30's, perfect teeth and ready to cook his own meals and carry his own supplies. He is friendly and conversation with him is easy. I tell him I am interested in going to Machu Picchu in Peru. He has been and tells me of the incredible feeling as he passed through the cloud cover. Suddenly these ancient Incan ruins lay before him as if they were built on and hidden by the clouds. His story stregthened my resolve to visit this fabled city in the clouds.



We do little more than eat and sleep. I am able to enjoy another night of clear sky, bright stars above me and glimmering lights below. Incredible. It is a sight that you wish you could take a picture of, but no picture could ever come close to relaying the beauty of the moment. We wake early the next day and we head down to where we began this journey; Marangu gate at the base of the mountain. We meet with our guides and porters, pay them and thank them for supporting us. We pose for pictures then leave for Arusha where we will spend the night. We arrive at the Arusha Hotel. We've used every piece of clothing at least once and maybe twice. Eddie does some quick hand laundry for us. We shower for the first time in 5 days. We go down to the restaurant for a wonderful dinner. The food and wine makes us sleepy so we head back to the room for sleep on an incredibly comfortable bed. We are in heaven.


Earlier I had some alone time and began thinking about our journey. We had quite a bit of assistance to help us reach our goal, Uhuru Peak. This caused me to consider the mountain, Mt. Kilimanjaro as a metaphor for life, at least maybe my life. Life does not take place on an island as Thomas Merton titled his book, "No Man Is An Island". In the book and in life we are not singular. People touch our lives and we touch theirs in ways we do not always recognize or understand.

There are many people involved in our lives who assist us behind the scenes. We may or may not know their faces. We may or may not encounter them or acknowledge them. They do things that help us move through life easier. They may even assist us in reaching goals that they are unaware.. They have titles like custodian, colleague, clerk, assistant, parent, friend, mentor, porter, guide or boss. They do things like pick up trash, cook for us, take care of tasks, of our home our pets or help us keep our focus.


This trek, this Mt. Kilimanjaro is not only a metaphor, it is a reality check on how one is able to succeed. It is an eye opener on how much there is to experience when we take things slow. Pole! Pole! has taken on a new meaning. It is not simply to take it easy or slowly on a trek up or down a mountain. It is a statement a plea of why we should slow our lives down. To notice the things around us and take account of those "porters" who help us reach a goal. It is an opportunity to pause and consider those that have "trekked" before, leaving a path to follow. There is beauty at every level if one chooses to discover it. Sometimes it is difficult to leave the green of the jungle to the less green desert landscape and into the solitude of a seemingly barren landscape. Yet each has its lesson as well as its beauty. An opportunity presents itself each time we move into a new environment, to re-connect with nature, ourselves and thus the essence of humanity and its relationship to the world. If only we would slow down and take note.

This has also been a lesson in humility. To know that you are dependant on others and the environment. To be able to survive on less of everything and find so much more in the end. It is an epiphany to go beyond a point of exhaustion and find the energy to succeed when a moment earlier failure seemed inevitable. But someone had your back. They stopped you from falling further and let you know you could still move forward with less than you began.



This journey, this trek, revealed strength I did not know I had. Many worked to get me to that point. Some of that strength came from the porters, guides and from Eddie. It came from everyone back home who allowed me the opportunity to be in Iraq and thus be in Africa climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro. The pictures I've shared are of the mountain and of myself and Eddie. There are many faces behind those pictures. People not shown but who provided strength and support that allowed us to summit Uhuru Peak.

Mt. Kilimanjaro. A mountain with a message. A metaphor for life, for success, for being humble. A trip that became a journey. A journey that became a symbol, a metaphor, a revelation.

May you find your mountain. I bid you Pole! Pole! as you begin your journey up...and back.

Blessings and peace,

Robert

QBLOG #42 Uhuru

31 Aug 06, Kibo Huts 4700 Meters (15,420 feet), 11:00 PM


The door to where we are sleeping opens. I know this because I am right next too the door. A cool breeze hits me in the face. OK, it's a freezing breeze. The guide for the Austrians comes in and tells his group to get up and get ready to leave in 20 minutes. Then Andrew's guide enters and wakes him. Thaddeus is next and Eddie and I get up and prepare ourselves. It is dark outside. It is freezing outside. We pull on several layers of clothing and top off with our jackets, gloves and packs. Our eyes are still heavy and we move about like zombies. We climb to the top today which is at 5895 Meters or 19,340 feet. That means that in the next 6 hours we need to climb 1285 Meters/3920 feet. It will be the largest increase in altitude we have climbed in a single day. We leave Kibo bundled up and with head lamps or flashlights guiding our way.

The way is not easy. We are climbing a steep slope and the going is not only slow, but difficult. We are using our trekking poles. The slope is made up of scree. This is a loose dirt and gravel that seems to be intent on hindering our effort up. Despite the slow pace we find ourselves directly behind a large group. It seemed impossible moments ago, but our pace has slowed tremendously. Thaddeus decides to overtake the group. This really challenges me. My one-two-three-four pace is gone and I am struggling against the altitude and against the scree. We pass. My breathing would indicate that I've just run the 100 yard dash as fast as I could.

Just as I am regaining my pace we find ourselves behind another large group and before I know it, we are off and moving past this group. I think I am going to die. My heart is pounding, my mouth is dry, my legs are hurting. I want to stop, but we can't or we will have to pass this group again. A few minutes later relief comes. We stop. I catch my breath, drink some water and begin to shiver. It is too cold to stop for long. Thaddeus urges us on. Florio, our assistant guide stays behind me. I plant my pole to assist in moving up the hill. It breaks and I fall. Florio stops me from going further. He recovers the other half of the pole. It is sooooo cold. It is dark and it is freezing. I want to cry. I can hardly catch my breath. I think about crying, but it will just dehydrate me. . I can't afford that right now. I let out a whine instead I reach for some water. It is frozen. My energy seems to be gone. There is no food in me. I'm shaking from the cold. Florio helps me zip up the zippers under my arms. I look at Eddie. He is only a mass in front of me. He sits on a rock. I sit next to him. I sit very close hoping to warm up. We both look like we have seen the grim reaper. Thaddeus tells us we must keep moving. Some how we muster the energy and continue. I have a small piece of candy in my pocket. I place it in my mouth and it provides energy enough to continue. We are moving as if we have balls and chains attached to our feet...shuffling, holding on to our pole(s) and inching up the mountain.



Darkness covers things that you are glad you don't see. We believe it is why we leave at midnight for the summit. The hill is steep. If we saw it from the bottom, we would have discouraged hearts. Now, we are near the top. We move over a small hill and through some rocks. We find ourselves in a small clearing. Relief comes, but only for a moment. This is Gillman's Point. It is on the top of Kilimanjaro, but not the top. We are told we have only 500 meters to go. We are told that it is much easier. We are told that 95% of the rest of the way is a breeze. 500 meters. I can do that. That's just over that dark shadow of a hill. It is freezing. Colder than before. I begin shaking again and my teeth are chattering. OK, let's do this. We walk for what I believe is 500 meters. There is a hill. I think to myself, "finally, we are here...Thank God." We are deceived. When we come to this hill, there is another behind it. We reach that hill and there is another behind it. I am thinking, "500 meters my @$$!" It hits me. 500 meters HIGHER not LONGER. Ugggh. I am empty. I pull out a Power bar. I can't go on. I need some energy. The bar is frozen. I don't care. If I don't have something I will drop right here and I won't care. I break a piece off and stuff it in my mouth. I let it melt. I can feel the bar melting down my throat and into my stomach and energy makes it to my legs and arms. We shuffle on.



There are voices in the distance. There is snow. There are camera flashes. We hear shouts of joy. We perk up, but our legs will not move any faster. We see the signs that tell us we have made it to Uhuru. A man is jumping and crying and shouting. It is Andrew. As we move closer I break down, I'm overcome with relief. I hug Eddie and don't want to let go. We then hug Thaddeus and Florio. Thaddeus takes our picture. We then take pictures with each of them and in one voice we say, "let's get down from here." Just then the sun begins to creep over the clouds. Like a scene from SUPERMAN, this brilliant red breaks the darkness and morning light is showing us all that the darkness hid from us. It is amazingly beautiful. The clouds. The glaciers. The peaks. The top of the world!


As light comes, we find our way back much easier. Our legs are sore. Our breathing is heavy. We are told not to drink water until we reach Kibo or we will get sick. We just want to get down now and be warm and fill our stomachs. Our spirits soar and once we pass Gillman's Point, we hit the steep slope with scree. Like children we pretend to ski down it. Sliding and stepping and sliding and stepping, wheeeeee! Some how we found energy. We are happy and tired and just want to get down.

We made it. We climbed not just Kilimanjaro but to its highest point, Uhuru peak and lived to tell about it! 5895 Meters above sea level. It is an experience that Eddie and I will always remember.

to be continued....The hike back down.

Robert

QBLOG #41 Kibo

Horombo Hut, 3720 Meters (12,205 ft.), 07:00 a.m. 31 Aug 06,



Again, we are roused for breakfast. We request some hot water with which to sponge bathe. It is cold, but washing our hair, face and arm pits makes us feel wonderful. Breakfast is quick. Neither Eddie or I feel very hungry, thought we are encouraged to eat as much as we can. We've switched to tea, mostly because we are out of coffee and some because it feels better once it settles. It's interesting what the altitude can do to you.



We are off to our next destination, Kibo Huts. The day is bright and clear. As we begin to walk the geography really begins to change. Plants and rock become fewer. We stop for a picture with Uhuru peak in the back ground. The distance is deceiving. We peak over a hill and the land in front of us looks barren. Clouds have begun to form and the air begins to get cooler. Soon we are putting our jackets and gloves and caps on. It gets down right cold. Moving is becoming more difficult. We move into the moon like landscape and see that previous trekkers have gathered rocks together. Some form these strange towers, rock upon rock, that seem to be suspended by a force we are unable to see. Others are gathered to create letters and words, names of people and places and dates. Both Eddie and I think it was certainly done on the way down. There is no energy in our bodies to waste.



The hike is slow and though the scenery seems bare, there is an interesting interaction between the clouds, the sun and the ground we walk. Shadows are formed and then disappear. Clouds roll in creating different shapes and images. Any ray of sunshine is welcome, though its warmth is minimal, the light it brings is like a small reward. We trek on. Slowly. Always slowly. I try to keep this rhythm in my head. One - Two - Three - Four, One - Two - Three - Four. It repeats over and over and over. My legs are getting heavy and I am suddenly thankful that I did not bring the pair of boots that I was originally going to. They weighed about 6 pounds a piece. The ones I have are at about 2.5 pounds a piece. I laugh to myself.


The first site of Kibo are some tents set amidst a group of rocks shielding them from the wind. We are at 4700 Meters (15400 ft) It has become a bit breezy. Any water here has to be brought up as there are no streams. The last stream of fresh water was just above Horombo. It has taken us almost 6 hours to reach Kibo today. We are cold and tired.

We sign in and are assigned a bed. We are placed in a dorm with 14 beds of which 8 are occupied by a group from Austria. The windows are open and it is freezing. The Austrians quickly devise a plan to shut the windows and the room immediately becomes warm. Andrew is already in bed asleep. Ben arrives sometime later. He is still not feeling 100%. We sleep for an hour or two before we are waken for dinner. Dinner is served in the room. I am able to practice my German for about 10 minutes worth of conversation with the Austrians. We discover that Ben also speaks German. Eddie speaks more than I do, but has remained silent. The language is switched to English and we enjoy a simple but lively dinner. It is early, but we will begin our journey to Uhuru at midnight. Soon the room is quiet and each of us falls into our own dreams about the success we hope to have in the morning.

to be continued....
Robert

QBLOG #40 Jambo!

Jambo, pronounced jaumBOe is Swahili for Hello.

Day 2: Mandara Hut, 7:00am - 30Aug06

We are roused from our sleep by our guide, Thaddeus. It is time for breakfast. Breakfast consists of some scrambled eggs, coffee, bread, peanut butter and jam, tomatoes and cucumbers. Our eyes are still heavy with sleep, but we prepare ourselves for today's hike. The morning is chilly with some cloud cover. Our goal today is Horombo Hut at 3720 Meters (12,205 ft.). Hiking time is estimated to be 5-6 hours.



We have basically left the forest and are now crossing open moor land. Jambo! I greet the trail before us. The sound we hear is that of our feet, one stepping in front of the other. The air is crisp and clouds gather and separate throughout the journey. The dirt reminds me of Iraq. You step on it and it forms a little cloud of dust landing on my boots and covering the lower part of my pants. We stop for lunch on a gathering of rocks. Eddie and I have decided, based on a conversation we had with a woman from Germany who completed the climb, that we would forgo any meats or eggs after Mandara. It is a good decision. I open my boiled egg and a foul smell greets me. Remember, everything we wear or eat has been brought up from the base of the mountain. No ice here.

For lunch, we have something that looks like french toast. It is a bit sweet and satisfies our hunger. An orange and a muffin are also included in our meal. We did think ahead and do have power bars and gel in our respective packs...just in case. I have a camelbak reservoir tucked in my back pack. It holds 3 liters of water. Though it starts off heavy, I'm glad I have it. I drink lots of water on this trip. We have purifying tablets as we are told we will need these. We've purchased enough bottled water to get us through today.

The trail seems easy. I have begun pacing myself thought. We still encounter folks and they continue to say, "Pole! Pole!". In the far distance we see our ultimate goal. Uhuru Peak. It is snow covered. It is beautiful. It is so far away. We turn around and look at the ground we've covered. The trail seems to run into the clouds. We've come so far. Eddie wants me to take a picture to show people how far it is. The picture is taken but it can never translate into what we see with our own eyes and what we've walked with our own feet. I think about how glad I am to be here and how happy I am that Eddie is with me.



We move along the trail. Slowly gaining elevation. It becomes a bit more difficult to hike. I'm fascinated by the plant life and the gulley's and cliffs that have water running through them. I stop often in excitement of seeing a plant I've never seen before or in amazement at the way a dried up piece of wood resembles a face or a carved body. Ravens are flying above. I can't help but get caught up in the sound the wind makes as it hits their wings. I wonder what they are feeling and how easily they soar feet above my head, most likely in search of food. I'm praying it is not an Omen. I pinch myself in jest to make sure I am indeed alive. A smile comes to my face and I move on.



A thought comes to my head as I see a forest of what appears to be dead plants intermingled with growing and other noticeably live plants. Nature understands that death is part of life and that the new, growing, old, dying and dead things are mixed together to form this kaleidoscope I now have in my view. There is beauty in it all. Thaddeus points out this flower to us. It comes in yellow and white. When it dies, it looks very similar to when it is alive, just a bit more faded. It has the shape of a mum. It is beautiful in both its forms. Delicate yet sturdy. That is how this terrain is. Many rocks and lots of loose dirt. The plant life is so varied and wonderful. It reminds me of deserts I have seen and yet when you look closely, it is totally different from those that I am familiar.

We see the Horombo huts in the near distance. They end up looking more near than they are. We finally arrive. We sign in and have our hut assigned to us. Ben is there to greet us, though he is asleep. Andrew follows. Dinner comes quickly. We are advised from some fellow diners not to consume any milk products due to our altitude. We take the advise seriously. So far both Eddie and I have not suffered symptoms from altitude sickness. As a precaution I do take a couple of aspirin. I do this through the remainder of the journey. Clouds settle in on the camp. We head off to our hut for some shut eye. Kibo tomorrow.

To be continued.

Robert

QBLOG #39 Pole! Pole!

Pole! Pole! (pronounced poh-lay poh-lay and always said twice) is Swahili for Slowly! It was the theme of our trek up and down Kilimanjaro. Every porter or guide we met would greet us, "Jambo! Pole-Pole!" (Hello! Slowly-Slowly!).



Day One: Arusha, Tanzania 5:00am - 29 Aug 06
I wake to a familiar sound. It is the Muslim call for prayer being sent throughout this small town. It is eerie and beautiful in the same moment. At 5:15am, maybe 5:30, I'm not sure, a response is heard to the call..or maybe it is the end of prayer time. It is quiet for awhile. Then the sound of a rooster's cock-a-doodle-doing breaks the silent air. Silence again. 6:00 am and the church bells ring for the Christian call to worship. Morning has broken to the sounds of chanting, ringing and the crow of a rooster urging all to wake and begin the day.

Our guide (Thaddeus), Assistant guide (Florio) and porters pick us up at our hotel. It is now 9:00 a.m. We begin the drive to the Marangu gate, park Headquarters for Mt. Kilimanjaro. We arrive at around 11:00a.m. We organize ourselves, rent hiking poles and register at the park office. We are off on our 5 hour hike to our first stop at 2720 meters (8900ft), Mandara Huts. The hike is through Tropical forest. It is humid but fairly cool. Winter has just ended and Africa is in its initial throes of Spring. Eddie spots some black and white haired monkeys in the trees. It was an incredible sight! Slowly, we move on. We stop for lunch. Lunch consists of a butter and carrot sandwich, cookies, banana, a muffin, peanuts and a small orange soda.

The climb through the forest was not steep, yet it has taken much of our energy. As we encountered other hikers coming down from their trek they bade us "good luck" and also "Pole! Pole!" or "easy does it". We are not sure if in fact these are greetings or warnings. We break through the forest and arrive into a sort of desert environment, similar to that of what you would see in New Mexico or Arizona. 4:00pm we arrive at Mandara Huts. We are above the tropical canopy of the forest and above the clouds. It is absolutely magnificent.




We move to our assigned hut which we share with two other trekkers. Ben, an English lad in his early twenties and Andrew who is Polish and in his mid to late 30's. Ben has a bout of food poisoning. We offer words of comfort, medicine and a good luck to him. Andrew speaks little english and keeps to himself. All of us collapse into our respective sleeping bags for a small nap. We are roused from our sleep an hour or so later. It is dinner time. We gather in a larger hut were there are 20-30 other hikers already in the middle of their meals. Dinner consists of some fruit, bread and a type of stew that we pour over some buttered pasta. Coffee and some water. After dinner Eddie and I opt to take a hike around the Maundi Crater, the remains of a once active volcano. The clouds are below us. It feels as if we could walk out onto them. Dusk comes and we head off to an early bed. We are exhausted.

I wake at 2:00 am as mother nature calls me to get out of bed and run for the toilet. It is freezing cold. As I begin to head back to our hut I stop dead in my tracks at the sight of sparkling lights below and a sky filled with diamonds I feel I can reach out and pull from the black velvety background they lie against. I breathe in the air and pause a grateful moment and give thanks for all that is before me.

I breathe one more time and take it all in. I am a bit overwhelmed with joy. I take one more view to record in my memory. I am satisfied. I head back to the hut and quickly fall back to sleep. More mountain will greet us tomorrow.

To be continued....

Robert

QBLOG #38 Karibu!

Karibu (pronounced Ka-ree-boo) is Swahili for Welcome. It is how I was greeted when I hit the airport in Nairobi, Kenya.

My friend Eddie Sanders lives in Nairobi. Eddie and I have taken several vacations together and we decided that I would come to Africa and we would climb Mt. Kilimanjaro. Mount Kilimanjaro is the highest mountain on the African continent and, at 19,340 feet, is one of the world's "Seven Summits". A climber will pass through five separate climate zones, going from equatorial to arctic, reaching its summit. Mount Kilimanjaro is comprised of three volcanoes, is 37 miles long and 25 miles across and each year 15,000 people attempt to reach its summit with approximately only 10-15% actually making it to the summit, Uhuru Peak.



Kenya and it's main city, Nairobi are incredible. The landscape and art and people form a mixture that combines to greet visitors with a genuine Karibu! that indeed makes you feel welcome. There seemed to be an air of familiarity for me. Not unlike Baghdad where I have felt that I some how belong, Kenya had the same feel. Not as a visitor, but as someone returning home. Certainly having the comfort of Eddie as a friend and guide lent itself to some of that feeling. But there was more. The landscape and art reminded me of my native Santa Fe and New Mexico. I have been places in the world where I felt like a stranger or a visitor. I did not feel that in Nairobi. I did not feel that in Tanzania. I did not feel that in South Africa. It gave me pause to ponder on the word "home".

After visiting a Giraffe park (you could actually feed the Giraffes and of course, I did) words began to form in my head about this land I now stood in. Here are those words:

There is in this world
beauty beyond our imagination.
It hides in the nooks and crannies of things
we do not want to look at.
It emerges from the hearts of those whose names we do not know,
whose lives we cannot imagine exist.
It pours forth in the form of their art...
their simple life, their sincere and gentle smiles....
And in the sadness of eyes
that have seen too much potential lost....
Too few opportunities available...
and have survived despite the neglect of the world.
There is love still.
And in that there is beauty
that cannot always be seen with eyes.
There is this world of beauty beyond our sight,
right in front of us.
If only we would see.


My impression of Africa. It is as if the heart of the world beats....originates from this continent. You here it pounding in the beat of drums of the music and flowing through the country in the bright colors of their native dress and jewelry. You feel its warmth in the smiles and greetings of Jambo Mazungu! (Hello White person) or Karibu Mazungu! (Welcome White person). The greeting is sincere and simply distinguishes you as someone other than a native, but welcomes you to share in the experience that is Africa. It is an experience. One that I will carry with me.

We left Kenya to Tanzania by bus. At first I was dreading the 6 hour ride to our destination in Tanzania. It is the best way though, to see a place. I became more endeared to this country, to this continent. The roads are horrible but the landscape makes up for it. At times I felt I was in the middle of a National Geographic film. As we drove through The Bush we saw Bushmen herding their flock, walking along dirt paths in their colorful dress, packs of supplies balanced on their heads seemingly held their by magic. We passed through towns that were no more than a stone throws from end to end and basically a collection of homes put together from sticks and stones, remains from gunny sacks, tin roofing or simply mud bricks. We stopped at the border to Tanzania. We were told to disembark from the bus and walk 500 meters to the other side. Once we had our passports stamped and obtained our Visa's we would then board the bus on the Tanzanian side. There were people everywhere trying to sell us jewelry, crafts, carvings, food, drink and even fake Visa's. It was overwhelming to be surrounded by men, women and children, young and old trying to sell you something...anything. If you even smiled or paid attention to one, you suddenly had 30 people trying to sell you something. Your heart breaks and you walk on. You must or you will never be able to leave. You walk on, get your Visa and board the bus.




Arusha is our next stop. From here we meet our guide for the climb up Kilimanjaro. Arusha is 1.5 hours from the base of Kilimanjaro. It is also the site where the Rwanda War crimes trials are being held. On our way to lunch we meet Livingston, a young man who is wanting to sell us/me a Batique print. I engage him. I look through his collection of prints, but do not find anything I really want. He follows us. He tells me that he is the lone supporter of an extended family of 8. He wants me to buy one of his paintings. $20. We walk on. $15.00. I tell him not now. We depart. After lunch we walk back to the hotel. Livingston is there to greet us. Please he tells me. "You are my father. He is my brother (referring to Eddie). We are family. You should help me your son to feed my family." I am distraught. The thought of me being someone's father...the responsibility. "I'll give you a good price my father. $10." Not now I tell him. We walk off. It is much later and we are walking to dinner. Livingston is there. Waiting, greeting us with a smile. He takes my arm in his. "Father, please, I have made no money today. I will give you 2 for $5.00." I'm lost in my thoughts and think of what I should do, what I feel I must do. Eddie intervenes and I am thankful. Eddie tells me that each street vendor is experienced and knows how to get to us. His story could be made up. Truth be told, it is probably real, but he will make money and he will survive and be able to feed his family. We eat dinner. Mine alone cost $20. It is not lost on me that this one dinner could have fed a family of 8 for a week.

I am on vacation. I am privileged in a way I have not realized. I am wealthier than almost everyone I will meet on this trip. I am humbled and in some ways disturbed by this. In ways it makes me believe I have the responsibility of a father to his children. Those of us who are indeed privileged have a responsibility to those who are not and to the world as a whole. A responsibility to respect and to empower. This thought remains with me through the remainder of my trip.

I end this Blog in Arusha, Tanzania. It is a good place to end one journey and a good place to begin another. Kilimanjaro, here we come!

Blessings and Peace.
Robert