It Gives One Pause

6/30/18
 -8:00 pm
Downtown. Sitting next to my 9th floor, open window. Listening to yelling, cheering, glass breaking, and loud detonation of M80’s (I think, not tear gas as I would likely smell that) and cops through blaring megaphones yell, “line up.” All happening two blocks away. Scary as all get-out, and here I am safe and secure in my condo. Gives one pause, for sure...where am I? Portland, Oregon USA? Germany, 1938? It’s getting confusing...

Memorial Day 2018

It is Memorial Day, 2018, one hundred years since the end of WWI.

I am remembering my Grandfather who served our country 100 years ago in that terrible war. All I know is that he was in France, where he was gassed (most likely, Mustard gas) suffering no immediate or visible injuries.

He returned home and over the next 10 to 15 years, his eyesight deteriorated until he was blind. At that time the government and the military denied his blindness was the result of his service. He never received any remuneration for a service related injury. He suffered acute depression and was hospitalized.

Until his retirement, he was "the blind vet" behind the candy and cigar stand in the lobby of the main post office in downtown Chicago.

All three of his sons went on to serve in the military during WWII.

He was my Grandfather. I inherited his sharp memory and patriotism, and I hope to always be sharing his remarkable life story.

(photo taken in Harrisburg, PA, when he was 18 years old, circa 1905)

You're In Africa Now, Baby! #3

"Truth Be Told!"

We had an outdoor picnic lunch almost every day on Safari

The Fall

The truth is I have not been honest.

I took a nasty fall while in Serengeti National Park at a picnic area. The only ones who know are immediate family, a few best friends, and those who witnessed it. It was scary and embarrassing.

Entrance to Serengeti National Park. No medical help available here.

While trying to snap a photo of my new safari friends eating lunch at our picnic table, I stepped back, and back again, trying to include the entire group in my small iPhone camera's view. A ragged ledge of rocks that I hadn't noticed, caught my heels and unbalanced me, and unable to catch myself, I tumbled backwards, landing hard on my back. My shoulders and the back of my head took quite a hit. The impact of my head hitting on the concrete must have been heard all over. People came running and my embarrassment was palpable.

Christian, the youngest and strongest person in our group, helped me get up and sat me down at our picnic table. Sweat poured off (shock?) and I was unsettled until my eyes refocused. For a bit, everything was blurred. All I wanted was to lay my head down and quietly recover, and regain some semblance of dignity. My terrified colleagues were searching my scalp looking for bleeding or cuts. Fortunately, the only thing they found was a bloody, scraped elbow.

An elderly gentlemen I did not know, approached our group and informed us he was a physician, as was his wife. They sat at another table and had seen me fall. After observing the incident and my response, these two doctors felt, "I should be seen by someone." I inferred that "someone" meant a professional medic.

Unfortunately, where we were, no such thing existed! There were barely roads let alone medical facilities. I had not asked for his opinion and his professional evaluation scared me to death. With a dawning clarity, I realized that medical help meant evacuation by a small "medivac plane" which would delay and inconvenience everyone in our safari party. Deep down I knew that flying out of the Serengeti to get medical assistance in Arusha (where we started the journey) would mean the end of my Safari, and a quick trip back to my home in Oregon.

After thinking this over for about 2 seconds, I decided I was going to be fine and I was staying in Tanzania, period. If I succumbed the next day to a concussion or a brain bleed, I gave permission to my new friends to feed my remains to the wildlife. Becoming part of the Serengeti food chain seemed a very good option at that point!

In the meantime, my wonderful group mounted a fruitless search for ice to help with swelling and a headache. Although there was no ice available, they were able to secure a litre bottle of cold water, which I poured over my head intermittently that entire afternoon. As we bounced along on our continued adventure I began to feel better, regularly quizzing myself, as to things I should know: who is our President, what month and year is it, what are my children's names, birthdates and so on. Thank goodness, my memory seemed fine! Extra Strength Advil helped too, once I was able to locate it in the jumble of my suitcase.

Me? Carrion for African vultures?

Christian, I owe you. Thanks for picking me up
off the ground.

There is a good ending to this tale. When I returned home one of the first things I did was see my doctor who requested an MRI and several X-rays. The results showed no concussion, no visible skull fracture, and no sign of internal bleeding. While it aggravated arthritis in a shoulder, I am fortunate that I did not sustain more serious damage. My injuries consisted of a brief headache and a sore spot on my elbow and a soft spot on my 'noggin. Thank you Mosses for that cool bottled water that kept the swelling down, and all that mercurochrome and band aids you applied to my scraped elbow each day! Grateful thanks also go to Christian, who literally picked me up (all shaky and uncertain) and helped to get me moving again.

Animals in Love!

Of course I knew we would be seeing animals in their natural habitat, doing natural things. However, it never occurred to me that in addition to hunting, browsing, eating, and sleeping, we would also be party to the "love/ procreation" part of wildlife behavior.

Honeymooning Lions!

As it worked out, one afternoon, ahead of us and down the road we saw several tourist vans like ours, pulled to the side of the road, the passengers exclaiming and intently observing and photographing something. As we edged in closer, what they were seeing came into view. At an extremely close range were lions (!) and they were close enough that a person could reach out and pet them, if they dared!

There were exactly two lions, one a great, handsome male, and the other, a comely and beautiful young female! Mosses tactfully informed us that "they were lions on their honeymoon!" Wow! A lion honeymoon! Who knew we would be seeing such a thing.

So much in love, these two had eyes only for each other and seemed oblivious to the vans, people, and cameras clicking away around them. We watched for quite a while, as our guide explained to us the process and nuances of a mating lion pair. There was mating, separation, rest, then mating again. He explained this could go on for hours, even days. The lengthy process would virtually assure the arrival of a new batch of cubs in the future.

Hoping for lots of healthy cubs in the future, like this one.

Beautiful Poppa!

Taking a break for grooming.

It was hard for me to believe that all the human activity surrounding them was not disturbing to the animals -- making a natural process unnatural for them. Though they seemed to only focus on each other, I wondered if our presence might be a distraction to a successful mating.

And, I also wondered, after observing these magnificent creatures so incredibly close up, how any person would want to shoot and kill them for pleasure.

On the other hand, we also witnessed an unsuccessful affair between an ostrich couple living in Ngorongoro Crater. She was ready and had her man in sight! She was gorgeous too, well preened with her feathers clean, ruffled and fluffed. Truth be told, he was not ready and not interested, and would not be seduced. In fact, he turned tail and ran away! All that work on her part, went unrecognized and unrewarded! It broke my heart to see her rejected. Perhaps I could relate! But as always, there is next time.

Ready!

Sorry, I'm just not that in to you.

Manyara: The Lake that Isn't There 

We traveled to Lake Manyara, advertised as one of the largest lakes in Tanzania. But as we arrived at the Manyara Wildlife Safari Camp, truth be told, there was no lake there. At least there was no lake anywhere near our lodging. It was pointed out to us in the far distance, but I just couldn't see it.

Where is Lake Manyara?

Our education continued, as we learned that at one time, not too long ago, Lake Manyara lapped at the foot of our lodging. It would have been beautiful to see this large lake with wildlife drinking at its shore, the gorgeous birds of Africa swooping through the sky, and pink flamingoes standing at attention in the shallows.

What lay in front of us was dry and barren scrub surrounding what must have been the Manyara Lake bed with no wildlife that I could see other than a few birds. Two lonely baobab trees and an acacia were just outside my window, looking dry and barren. The gorgeous formal gardens in the vicinity of our cabins and the lodge, were a welcome and much appreciated diversion.

The dry lake bed beyond, and the Baobab Trees.

At one point, I did see a car and two motor scooters speeding through the dry lake area, raising up  huge pillars of dust behind them. I had no idea where they might be going, but it appeared that this part of the dry lake was now being used as a road. Truth be told, most of us found ourselves passing time in the lobby, relaxing with a cold drink and enjoying a very nice WiFi connection! I found the place a bit depressing.

iPhones connecting us to the world!

The story of Tanzania's Lake Manyara was that of a lake that has slowly receded, most likely due to many rainless years, little runoff from the surrounding escarpment, and global warming. Very sad. The lodge/camp was a beautiful facility, in the middle of nowhere. There was no doubt, it was another sad victim of the Global Warming saga.

A beautiful lodge camp! But no lake.

The Coke Fix

The truth is, no one really knows what is in the recipe for Coca Cola. I think the recipe is secreted away in a vault somewhere in Atlanta, Georgia. Ever since my experience in Tanzania, I've wondered, "what is in that stuff?"

It was our last day. We were tired. And each of us, in our own way, was trying to grasp the enormity of what we had seen and done over the past two weeks. We were caravanning back to Arusha and the airport where we would catch our flights home later that day.

In the town of Karatu our two vans pulled into the parking lot at our first tourist "circus". It was a huge warehouse where thousands of African arts and crafts were available for tourists to buy. As I walked in all I could see were wood animal carvings, bowls, spears, textiles, and jewelry stacked on wall to wall shelves. Everything from fine art to junk art was displayed on the walls as far as the eye could see. Absolutely anything and everything a person might want for a souvenir was right there. Tourists were everywhere, speaking all kinds of languages, and the parking lot was jammed with vans. My husband would have called it "Disneyland Africa!" For about an hour, we browsed. Most of us found more than a few last-minute gifts to pack home. My only regret is that I did not capture the chaos with my camera. But hey, I was too busy shopping!

With our purchases wrapped and in hand, we piled back in the vans for the sad, last leg of our journey. Mosses went to start the engine on van #1, and, incredibly, nothing happened. He continued to try several more times and that engine was not going to turn over! Nothing. Nada. The engine was deader than dead. OMG! Maybe we were stuck in Karatu! Would we miss our flights home? For all the miles we had traveled, we had not had one single breakdown, no flat tires, absolutely no problems with our transportation. How ironic that this was happening on our last day.

Now, imagine all the stereotypical African movies you have seen: all of a sudden we were surrounded by hoards of African men ready to help and/or offer an opinion. The hood went up, and although I could not understand the Swahili chatter, it was loud and obvious that every person had an idea on what needed to be done to fix that engine! Arms were waving and heads were under the hood. At one point I thought they might pull the engine right out of the van, take it apart, and put it back together again! I knew they were capable of doing it, but how quickly?

After about a half an hour or so of all this activity, with no results, Mosses disappeared and then reappeared --- with a bottle of Coca Cola. He proceeded to pour the Coke over the battery and the battery connection rods! Then he vigorously cleaned them with that bottle of Coca Cola.

Undoubtedly the battery was caked in dust and dirt from our miles and miles of Serengeti travel. When he emerged from under the hood he had on his huge smile, the same one that greeted me when I arrived in Tanzania. He hopped into the driver's seat, and turned the key. Bingo! The engine started immediately, and we were off. Our trusty van simply needed a Coke Fix!

And, I am still wondering, "what's in that stuff?" Are we drinking some form of battery cleaner or acid when we down a coke? What might it be doing to our guts? Guess we'll never know. However, it will be awhile before I drink a coke again!

Our van, not a breakdown till the last day. All it needed was a "Coke Fix".

This is my last "Safari" installment and I hope my readers have been able to partially live the experience with me. There was an adventure around every corner and it was a dream of mine come true. I thank my husband for such a generous anniversary gift, and I thank my new friends, some of whom have generously shared their photos with me: Micheline and Rick, Leo and Grace, David, Christian, Toby, Mosses, and Suddiy. Thank you all!

My wonderful new friends!

People have been asking for more of my photos! I'm thinking my next blog will be only posts of my favorite photos from this incredible experience. How does this sound, "An Artistic Eye Sees Tanzania"? Your comments are always welcome.

"You're in Africa Now, Baby!" #2

Installment # 2:  Reality

"Wildebeest Crossing the Road"

A typical road in Serengeti National Park

The African Massage, or Holy Hemorrhoids

The materials I received said the roads we would travel on this safari were going to be very rough and very dusty. Ladies were advised to bring sports bras. Really??  Sports bras?  What could possibly happen that would make having a sports bra a necessity on this trip? Was this a sports event? Or was it an educational trip? I wondered if I was prepared.

As the safari began, our little group drove east and north on the main highways in two vans. Eventually we turned away from pavement and onto African dirt roads. They were bumpy, with one-lane, gravel, rocks, ruts, dust, and mud. Most days the butt-bouncing, back-bone jarring, and seat-sliding was fun, like a carnival ride gone crazy! We wore seat belts, but after a really bumpy day, I was not confident they were going to help much in case of emergency and I was glad for the sports bra!

For example, one afternoon our guide and driver, Mosses, warned us to "hang on" as he took an extremely fast turn off the dirt road and onto rough savannah surrounding us. The unexpected off-road ride took us speeding over bumps, into ravines, around big rocks, and over the brush. We were bouncing up and down and sliding side to side in our seats, in order to find and photograph a very rare and endangered African black rhino. By CB radio, Mosses had been notified by other guides where to find this rhino and he was driving fast, and taking us on short cuts, so we wouldn't miss this gorgeous animal. While hanging on for dear life, for some reason, I started to laugh, and laugh, and laugh. I hadn't experienced such laughter and feelings of elation and freedom in years! It felt great. And I'm thankful for the journey that led me to this beautiful creature. 

The wild ride: worth it to get a shot of this gigantic Black Bull Rhino!

On the down side, after almost two weeks of bumping and bouncing, my derrière became a bit numb, my back bone felt like it had been relocated, my extremities began to tingle, and I wondered if my teeth were going to break and fall out. I had brought along a special little seat pillow purchased from REI in Portland. I had hoped it would provide some comfort during our long travel days. I was disappointed as it proved to be ineffective and flattened after just a few days under my rear!

Our guides explained to us this experience is common and locally is called "The African Massage!" My body told me loudly it should be renamed, "Holy Hemorrhoids!" Thanks to our guides, we were told in advance each day if we would be experiencing another "African Massage." I would then fluff up my little seat pillow whether it worked or not, fasten my seatbelt, and we would take off!

This lioness crosses a road, avoiding the mud, and above,
children wave on a dusty road.

To Pave or Not to Pave

A big question in Tanzania is whether to pave the roads or not. The issue is currently being discussed by Tanzania's tourism industry and by government officials. If the national park and national reserve roads were paved, it would likely increase the tourism market making travel and reaching wildlife easier for tourists and more comfortable with no "African Massage." On the other hand, is it better to leave things rough, as they are now? This would be a natural way of limiting the number of tourists and vehicles entering and leaving the parks. I began my journey thinking, "oh my, (bounce, bounce) these people need better roads." Two weeks later, I left, hoping the roads would never be paved, leaving the magnificent and endangered Tanzanian wildlife to their natural habitat with as little human interference as possible.

The "Unpaved Road" Heading toward a Serengeti Rain

Taking Care Of Business

One of the most commonly asked questions since my return, is, "when there were no rest rooms available, how did you --- GO?"  There were nice clean rest rooms scattered throughout Tanzania's National Parks, complete with sit down flush commodes and toilet paper. I was grateful our guides knew exactly where they were.

This elephant definitely gets the right of way.

When the guys in our van had a bathroom emergency, they could say, "Hey Mosses, I need to check the pressure in our rear tires!" and we would stop. The guys, one by one, would jump outside, head to the rear of the van, face the opposite direction, and do their business.

For the girls, it was more complicated. We could check the "tire pressure" just like the guys, jump out and head to the back of the van, but we wanted a bit more privacy, some biodegradable tissue, and absolutely no traffic or animals anywhere in sight. Only one of the ladies in our group completely refused to do this. I really don't know how she managed!

In several places we encountered the smelly, much dreaded "hole in the ground" with places for your feet on either side of the "squat hole."  I'm older now, and the "squat" is a lot more difficult than I remembered. Though I can't remember why, I've always called these "bomb sites." I know they've been used since antiquity and are ubiquitous around the world. But they are my least favorite option for relieving myself. However, if it's the only option.... 

Dust swirls in the distant Serengeti

Dusty Days on Safari

Dust!

We were traveling in extremely dry places during the last weeks of the East African "dry season." Dust covered everything including the vans, our luggage, our hair, our faces, our cameras, and our clothing. When it was bad, we rolled up the windows, and when it was really bad we covered our noses and mouths with hospital style cough masks. At the end of each day, all anyone wanted to do was to shower and put on clean clothing.

Safari Showers

This brings us to showering. At the luxury hotels showers were the same as at home if not better. But the Safari-style bucket showers in the Serengeti were new to me. We had been told to expect them, but not being any kind of camper, I had never experienced such things.

Buckets of hot and cold water hung outside our canvas tents. The buckets were connected to a regular shower head by a hose, and we were (supposedly) able to adjust the amount of hot and cold water coming through. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't. It was a new system for me to test and experience. The best thing was the system conserved precious energy and water. And a good thing for people to know: each tent had a flush toilet, a sink, and two clean and comfortable beds covered with mosquito netting. The tents were sturdy and kept out wind and rain. Rarely did I see a even a bug inside.

Bucket hot water for showers was heated with boilers, or solar panels.

Morning coffee with friends at Serengeti camp.

Sleeping with Animals

In areas around the cottages and camps where we stayed, I saw animals including lions, buffalo, Marabou storks, zebra, and even elephants roaming nearby. As human intruders, we were advised to be aware and cautious at all times. In the evening and early morning hours, we were required to call for the camp "escorts" to accompany us to and from the main dining and lounge areas. These "escorts" were prepared (some carried knives and I'm not sure what else) and were always on the lookout for the large wild animals that might be nearby and possibly be a danger.

I do know animals of all kinds roamed through the camps during the night. We could hear their night sounds, including grunts and calling to their mates and children in the distance. We learned that the tones and frequency of these calls meant different things. I definitely heard lions (our guide Mosses did a great job of imitating their low groans and growls). And I was glad they did not come too near.  With a casual glance around we could see buffaloes, elephants and giraffes wandering outside the camp's perimeter, usually browsing and eating. The Marabou storks were everywhere and wandered in and out of our camps and picnic areas both day and night most likely looking for food. As you can see, they are large and rather ugly. I thought of them as scavengers.

The Marabou Stork wandered everywhere!

One dark night I awoke to use my tent toilet, and looked out the open mesh window to see if anything was going on. To my shock, a very large and smelly male buffalo was sleeping just the other side of the tent that separated my bed from where he was lying down. Yikes! I didn't panic as he was quite relaxed, chewing cud, and seemed inclined to sleep rather than be concerned with me. Perhaps he was attracted either by my somewhat loud snoring, or by having a warm body nearby! He and his many friends left "traces" every morning on and around the pathways we walked going to meals. One day I watched in horror as a porter wheeled my luggage down the path right through a pile of poop! I tried to clean my luggage when I got home, but was fairly grossed out. It might be best to simply buy a new one.

Early morning poop on the path to my tent. Watch out where you step!

The White Maasai Momma

I briefly fell in love with a tall and handsome Maasai Chief from the village (or boma) near Osupuko Lodge in Tarangire Park where we stayed for several nights. As part of our experience we visited the straw, mud and wattle homes of his village. He stood guard the entire hour we sat in the house of one of his wives, having a lecture about Maasai life. This Chief was a man of few words and like the male lions and the male elephants we observed in the parks, he was in charge and we knew it by his stately bearing and demeanor. The other village men were around, but it was very clear that they deferred to the Chief. After his small tribe welcomed us with songs, dancing and jumping (jumping is a Maasai tradition) and after our lecture, we were invited to look at some of the hand made jewelry, carvings, and textiles, made by the village ladies. I decided to purchase a beautiful blue checked Maasai cloth. The handsome Chief bargained with me, and handled every money exchange. I carefully watched him the next morning as he shared the money from all of our purchases among the village women.

Maasai "Mommas" selling handmade beaded jewelry.

The handsome Maasai Chief

The "White Maasai Momma"

Typical Maasai Bowma Homes

Alas, my husband need not have worried about my "crush". After I watched how things worked in his village, I determined Maasai life was not for me. Most of my readers and friends know I'm a fairly strong willed person with opinions that I readily share. I don't think the Chief and I would have gotten along too well. Sigh. I'm also Mrs. Clean, and the interior of the boma huts had packed dirt floors, ceilings of wood and dried leaf fronds, and no chimney or hole in the roof for cooking smoke to escape. The combination made for a rather unique smell and my sensitive allergies didn't much like it. By the time we left the hut, my nose was stuffed and my eyes were dripping. I was not cut out to be a "White Maasai Momma" although my new safari friends called me that whenever I wore my beautiful Maasai cloth!

As best I could tell, the women built and repaired the huts, cooked the meals, had the babies and raised them, washed the clothes and made all the items for sale. The young boys took care of the goats and cows. The girls helped their mothers. I wasn't sure what the grown men actually did! Some were escorts at the Osupuko Lodge where we stayed, but other than that, I don't know how they passed their time. I also don't think I'd look that good with a shaved head.

Living the Maasai life was not for me! I do think the Maasai are some of the most physically beautiful people on earth. I loved learning about them, and wished I could have befriended some of the village women and their adorable children.

Maasai "escort" at Osupuko Lodge                                          Maasai at Sunrise, Osupuko Lodge Pool

An interesting aside about the Maasai: for all their primitive living conditions, and from their reluctance to send their children to schools, some of them were surprisingly aware of the political situation here in the U.S. and eagerly asked the male members of our group (not us women) their opinion about our President, Mr. Trump!
And Watch for the last installment to come:

• Animals in Love
• Manyara, The Lake That Isn't There
• The Fall
• The Coke Fix
• And, My Favorite Photos!

"You're in Africa Now, Baby!" #1

**You're in Africa Now, Baby!

 Installment #1 - First Impressions

**(a quote, and favorite expression of Tanzanian guide, Mosses Meleya)

Me - on Safari - with Guides Mosses and Suddiy

Toto's timeless song, "I bless the rains down in Africa" was singing in my head as my plane, a super gigantic KLM aircraft, disgorged its 300+ passengers, via steps, onto a dark, night-time tarmac near Arusha, Tanzania. It was not raining in Africa that night. Instead, I felt a lovely warm breeze touching my face.

My perspective must have been skewed as I was coming down the steps. I turned to look back and saw what appeared to me as a monster, the largest aircraft I had ever seen! It was a KLM Airbus A330-300, and not only was it huge, it was the only plane I saw at the airport that night. Most of the travelers disembarking looked a lot like me, exhausted from travel and seeking an African adventure. The majority, I thought, were heading out to safari. In addition, there were groups of younger, outdoorsy-types packing lots of gear for the 8 day, oxygen-sucking trek to the top of nearby Mt. Kilimanjaro, Africa's highest peak.  But, all faces radiated an excitement at the anticipated adventures that lay ahead of us!

The clean, fresh African air immediately morphed into hot, stuffy and barely breathable as 250+ souls, happy to be finished with the 9 hour flight from Amsterdam were crammed into a smallish Passport/Visa office. Looking for rest rooms, tour guides etc., everyone eventually queued up into semi-organized long lines --- emerging some 90 minutes later, photographed, fingerprinted, stamped, signed and $100 dollars poorer (the charge for a Tanzanian visa).  We all were now legally documented and ready to go!
All I could think was, "Julie! Julie! A dream come true: You're finally in Africa!" 

KLM Royal Dutch Airline Flight 567, Amsterdam to Arusha

Following Mosses

Now that I had my necessary documents, I emerged, dazed and a bit panicked. I was very much hoping someone, anyone, was there to meet me. It seems like I scanned the waiting crowd forever before I spotted a man, carrying a sign with the name of my tour.  He was looking for me just as I was looking for him. He introduced himself as Mosses Meleya. His beautiful Tanzanian smile and genuine greeting was all I needed for reassurance and welcome. How lucky was I, I thought, that a man named Mosses (Moses) was going to lead my journey into the African wilderness!

Tanzanian Guide, Mosses Meleya

My first stop with this 21st century Mosses, was not the wilderness, but a luxury hotel in the surprisingly big city of Arusha. I must admit I'd never heard of this large city before the trip. The hotel room in Arusha was a complete surprise, with music playing on the TV, rain shower, guest bar, and air conditioning; downstairs was a restaurant serving gourmet meals, a pool, a gift shop, money exchange, plus other amenities. What an unexpected beginning.

After a night of jet-lagged semi-sleep in my extraordinary clean room, and while enjoying a sumptuous breakfast, several of my fellow safari-mates noticed I was one of them (due to my noticeable name tag), and invited me to join them. They gave me a warm welcome. And I looked them over carefully, realizing that by the end of 12 days together, we were going to be very good friends, or possibly (if my luck did not hold) never wanting to see each other again. It seems I was to be very lucky indeed!

This group included a young professional guide from Costa Rica, a professor from Boston College, a specialist from the US Department of Education and her husband, the mother of a group member who loved travel, two scientists from Los Alamos Lab, and me, a retired arts educator/gallery owner/US Senate staffer, now Grannie. We made a grand total of 8 wanderers, and two guides.

It shocked me to learn that at age 69, I was the second oldest in this group! All of us had signed up for a "scholarly tour" which included lectures on wildlife and eco-management of animals and birds in the Tanzanian national parks. We also were to visit the place where the oldest known human fossils were found, and we anticipated learning about the culture and lives of the local Maasai people. As it turned out, my experiences as well as the teaching surpassed any preconceived expectations of a learning safari.

The Special Ed Connection

Unexpectedly, "special education" connected three of us. For 13 years I worked in the Special Education office at Oregon Department of Ed, directing the statewide VSA Arts programs. I was joined on this journey by a PhD from US Department of Ed., Office of Special Ed, as well as a Professor of Special Ed. from Boston College.  

With three Special Ed people, it seemed ironic (and possibly fated) that on our first morning the  place we visited was a lovely enclave that I would call the Tanzanian version of a sheltered crafts workshop for the disabled. Shamba Crafts, was a place where workers were producing high quality art and craft products for sale. We watched many individuals with mental and physical challenges weave African style fabrics and beautiful blown glass. I was most impressed at the way these disabled people of Tanzania were provided with work opportunities and the potential for productive and successful lives. I've always been told that you can tell a lot about a nation by the way it treats the disabled and the elderly; we learned a lot about Tanzania at that first stop.

Shamba Crafts, Arusha

Glass Blowing at Shamba Crafts, Arusha

"The Tourist Migration"

(another favorite expression of guide, Mosses Meleya)

On this Safari, we traveled hundreds of miles in vans which seemed to be Land Rover/Jeep combinations. We were told these vans are rebuilt, restructured and reconfigured in Tanzania specifically for the safari industry. From my experience riding in them for 12 days, I can say these vans were terrific. Although they are not built for comfort and luxury they are definitely built for reliability, sturdiness and for some of the roughest terrain I have ever experienced! They allowed for food and water storage, luggage, as well as for the scenic views in all directions. They also allowed  for passengers to stand up for observations and photographing wildlife and the natural surroundings. For traveling on the dusty, rocky, muddy roads which we traversed in northern Tanzania, these vans were the only way to go!

Our 21st century Mosses called all the multitude of converging "vans and people" in the Serengeti "the Great Tourist Migration!" This was his tongue-in-cheek reference to tourists who come to witness the Great Migration of animals in northern Tanzania. I thought the local people must think of us as a "migration of travelers" descending into Tanzania to witness the thousands and thousands of zebras and wildebeest in this ongoing phenomenon. We all laughed, but we knew that underlying the thought was a serious reference to the importance of tourism to Tanzania....bringing with it thousands of needed jobs and infrastructure which bolsters their economy. 

*Our Safari Van on the "Tourist Migration"

New Friends Observing Serengeti Wildebeest and Zebra Migration from our modified pop-up *van

Don't miss Installment #2, (to be announced) where I describe more of my interesting African adventures, including:

• The African Massage, or "Holy Hemorroids"
• Serengeti Showers
• Sleeping Among Animals
• Animals in Love
• The White Maasai Momma
• The Coke Fix
• and possibly more!

"Total Eclipse of the Sun"

America's Total Eclipse of 2017, has come and gone. A few thoughts follow:

Because totality encompassed a great swath of Oregon, the hype hitting us for the past many months has been nothing short of overwhelming. It's over now and a sense of emptiness prevails. But what a day!

Eclipse Morning

8:30 a.m. Tom McCall Waterfront Park

This beautiful summer eclipse morning, I left my home early (8:30 a.m. is early for me!) and walked the three blocks to Tom McCall Waterfront Park, a perfect location with a full-sky vista spread along the shores of the Willamette River. Surprisingly, only a handful of eclipse viewers were there early. I settled in, set up my parade chair, and sipped at my thermos of coffee. I noticed eclipse viewers arriving in boats, kayaks, stand up water boards, walking (like me), many with parade chairs and blankets, with helicopters watching it all from above. I checked that I still had those eclipse viewers in my pocket, and texted a few friends that I was "on location!" I took the requisite "selfie" to share with the world, and noticed everyone else was doing the same or simply conversing on their iPhones.

"Selfie"

As I watched, more and more viewers arrived --- wearing a variety of fashion "eclipse wear": hats, casual tee-shirts, flip flops, and a few office workers taking time off for the big event sporting high heels, suits and ties. Several pediatricians stood around me, close to my carefully selected spot, with  name tags and home towns listed. They mentioned they were attending a pediatrician convention at the hotel across the street, and delighted to find themselves in the midst of  "eclipse mania." All around me, fancy cameras were being set up on tripods, picnic blankets were being spread, and eclipse-viewer glasses were being tested. By 9:45 a.m. (only an hour after I arrived) the park was well filled.

Eclipse Morning

About 10:00 a.m.

(Notice sun shadows getting longer)

There was no great communal "AHHH" as the eclipse began. Everyone just stood around talking and visiting. But at about 9:50, I became curious to see if anything was happening above. I put on my OMSI certified (Oregon Museum of Science and Industry) sun-viewing glasses and turned my gaze directly at the sun. That first look was astonishing --- as through those special OMSI lenses the sun looked like a huge glowing cookie, with a small bite taken out of the corner.  I was glued to watching that first nibble get bigger and bigger as the moon ever so slowly gobbled up that sun. This was not on TV, or in a movie, or in National Geographic. It was happening now and in front of my eyes!

photo by Twitter Account @depressedDarth

As advertised, at approximately 10:17 a.m. the sun (in Portland) was very close to being obliterated by a hungry moon. From where we were watching, there was not quite total coverage of the sun, not total darkness, just a cool breeze wafting through the park in a very dim twilight. The only thing visible on the sun was a sliver or fingernail of light left glowing on the upper perimeter of what was an orb. The downtown street lights clicked on, and the sun, oh so gradually, began to return as those cookie bites got smaller and smaller.

A few miles south on the Interstate 5, in the Salem area, viewers were treated to a full eclipse view with coronal outbursts visible. From the photos I have seen, it looked crazy and wonderful! I'm a little bit regretful that I didn't ignore the hype and went south, and braved the horrendous traffic to experience the total effect.

photo shared by Sharon Maroney

taken by John Kim with

Grandma Gerda's

Panasonic Lumix DMC-ZS50

So, those of you still stuck in major traffic jams, I'm wondering if you think the once in a lifetime eclipse reality was worth the time, effort and expense. Travel time from Salem to Portland this afternoon is from 2 to 3 hours, with usual drive time being 45 minutes. The elapsed time for totality was about two minutes. But it took about a half hour to watch the moon devour the sun and about another half hour to watch the moon retreat. I'm waiting to see if the overwhelming "hype" will pay off in terms of money coming into our state. And more importantly, will eclipse people return here to see and experience the many great and beautiful things that Oregon has to offer as a result of this brief and historic moment when the moon covered the sun.

An Empath?

"Someone who has the natural ability to understand the emotional, mental, or physical state of another person or animal. Someone who easily senses, feels, and reads the energy surrounding them."

OK, friends, go on a brief journey with me, taking time to recall "Star Trek: The Next Generation" and that marvel, Commander Deanna Troi, the half-human, half Betazoid who had a unique ability to sense emotions. For some reason I always felt a connection with her. She was a problem solver and a consensus builder, an Empath, and I really liked her. It has been ages since I watched her skillfully solve the emotional problems of people and creatures, soaring through other universes in deep space.

Unlike Deanna, I have never internally experienced the emotions of others, but as I have become older and more reflective, I realize that I unknowingly take on the physical "feelings" of others, specifically like when they are really sick. It happens primarily with immediate family. I wonder, is this an empathic phenomenon? For a long period I assumed this happens to everyone. But then I noticed my friends and family were not physically overwhelmed by their loved-one's illnesses.

In retrospect, years ago, I must have come to realize that I was a bit different. When I stepped into my children's rooms when they were ill, their aches and malaise would overcome me, and I immediately felt sick too. Often I would have to lay down a bit until that aura of illness left me. My younger sister was quite often ill as a child. I vividly recall my Mom's anger when I would lay down and tell her I was sick too. She told me I was only wanting attention, and "I was fine." Yes, I was fine, but again, in retrospect, simply taking on the "feelings" of my sister's symptoms.

It is doubtful that there is any science related to this, so I have very little understanding of what goes on and what this means. Perhaps it is a supersized sensitivity to the energy of others nearby. I do not take on my grandchildren's illnesses, but they live far away. My husband's frequent surgeries for malignant melanoma and other illnesses are not something I "feel." Yet I inevitably take on a great deal of his illness in the form of extreme emotional and physical exhaustion. My friends with ill husbands say they are not exhausted, or physically affected in that way.

So, the story concludes, I've joined a group on Facebook called "An Empath" and discovered that there are quite a few people out there who can relate to this. My hunch tells me we Empaths are "tuned in" to different things. With me it is illness, with others, it is simply a heightened sensitivity to relationships, connections of the spirit and the mundane and/or a much broader view of life's dimensions. And that is about as far as I can go with this. But I find it fascinating, and perhaps you will too. If you have more information about this, let me know!