Upbeat

Well, after the last serious posting, I thought that I’d make things a bit more upbeat. Driving home from work yesterday we saw, perhaps, the littlest elephant we’ve seen yet.

And then this afternoon Elvis chose to grace us with his presence. This picture was taken from Anne’s desk. It was strange but Sophie, our human resources director, had her going away party today. She’s leaving for, hopefully, greener pastures. And Elvis after wandering around the quadrangle walked into just one office, Sophie’s. I guess he came to say goodbye.

Elvis wandering around.

Elvis wandering around.

Everyday is a wonder is some respect.

This is Real Part II

“That was a very bad week for NRT,” Tom Lalampaa sighed as he stood in my office doorway. “I am very glad it is over. Things will be better now. We’ve used up all our bad luck for the entire year in this one week.”

********

The bad week began with the cattle massacre I wrote about in “This is Real Part I.” Several days later, Gabriel Nyausi, Tom Lalampaa’s right hand man, and Nelson, a NRT driver, were returning to the office after a day of meetings. It was dark. The cautious were already off the road, but Gabriel and Nelson wanted to get home. Nelson is a member of the Kenyan Defense Reserve (KDR); Gabriel is a Samburu. They don’t scare easily. Plus, they weren’t on the most dangerous stretch of the road. That distinction belongs to the main route between Seralipi and Wamba; 50 kms of unpaved, rutted, one and a half lane dirt track that winds through a gap in the mountains. It is an ambush waiting to happen.

In their official, dark green Land Cruiser, Nelson and Gabriel rounded a corner and came upon a group of men dressed in military jackets herding goats along the road. Thinking the men were fellow members of the KDR, Nelson stopped the car and rolled down his window. “Jambo” he called. The men darted into the bush and seconds later gun shots ricocheted off the NRT vehicle. Gabriel and Nelson flung themselves forward in their seats, Nelson not quite fast enough as a bullet came through the window, cut a 4 inch gash in the top of his scalp and embedded itself in the opposite door. Thinking he was hit, Gabriel patted his body frantically searching for blood. Fortunately, nothing. A minute later, Nelson recovered his composure and his crisis driving skills. He cranked the engine, grabbed the steering wheel and slammed his foot down on the accelerator. They escaped into the night. A kilometer later the two men switched seats so Nelson could tend to his wound. Gabriel and Nelson returned to Lewa and reported the incident. NRT security decided to respond.

Continue reading

This is Real Part I: KP 21

April 28, 2014. Night. The 330 cattle of KP 21 shifted nervously in their two make-shift bomas. It was dark, the type of impenetrable black where you can’t see a hand held six inches from your nose. The moon wouldn’t rise until 5:58 a.m. and even then it would be a mere sliver of light, the final gasp of a waning lunar cycle. The cattle should have been in Lewa, safe behind stout metal fences. Instead they were held up in Il Ngwesi, spending the night within a ring of acacia branches. There had been a miscommunication about foot and mouth disease vaccinations and the people needed to resolve the problem (me included) couldn’t be reached. Four herders patrolled the bomas’ perimeters armed with flashlights, walking sticks and rungu, a short club with a hard knob on one end. Two others slept nearby in bedrolls next to a small fire.

NRT cattle in an acacia thorn boma.

NRT cattle in an acacia thorn boma.


Continue reading

Taking a Walk on Lewa

I flew back to Kenya yesterday after a month long visit to the US. Other than my transporting a Nora virus from one grandchild in Texas to me to two grandchildren in Minnesota, it was a great trip.

Anne took a walk today so I thought that I would show you what that means.

We decided to try and get photos of a Long Tailed Widowbird and a Hoopoe on the drive to the airstrip. We were successful.

Long Tailed Widowbird

Long Tailed Widowbird

Hoopoe

Hoopoe


Continue reading

Mlima Knapp

I know we have fallen behind, so be prepared for me to try to catch up.

Like good Anglo-Saxon explorers, we’ve decided to stake our flag on a little piece of land and name it after ourselves. It is a modest hill just five minutes from our house. Actually, it is a hill from only one direction. From the other direction it is merely a nub of gravel littered with a few ancient lava rocks at the edge of a broad plain. For the time being, though, we’re claiming it and christening it Mlima Knapp (Knapp Hill).

Mlima Knapp

Mlima Knapp


Continue reading