Kibera The Slum of Hope - 2019

Kibera
The Forest in Nubian
Nairobi
Kenya
A million souls
Living by the Nairobi Lake
On $2 a day
A slum
Bigger than Boston
Filled with every tribe in Kenya, Uganda, the Sudan, Nubia, Somalia
Living together
On $2 a day
Never giving up
Kibera is the slum of hope.

I have walked through the paths
Between the colonies of mud shacks.
With young friends
On a sunny winter day.
Banda likikushinda, jenga kibanda.
An oldiu Swahili saying.

'If you can't build a hut, build a shack."

There are hundreds of thousands
Of huts and shacks
In Kibera.
We go inside Steve's shack
Pop posters
A single overhead bulb
Dirt floor
Clean
$20 a month
It is home.
He lives the same as we all do
From past to present to future

I am a mazungoo.
A white man
I am here thanks to Tim
We met in Tibet
He was shot in Nairobi
By slum criminals

His revenge was to help Kiberans

Why am I here?

To help the team walk through the Masaii Plains
And climb Kilimanjaro

I know nothing
Of Kibera
But
I live in a ghetto
Clinton Hill
I have lived in others
In Thailand
In Indonesia
In the East Village
The poor there are poor
Same as the poor here
Same as everyone
Seeking an end to greed
And happiness.
Furaha

My friends are young Kiberans
Felix, Slow Steve, Vanessa, Maureen, Ubah, and Jackmon.
This is their home.
My friends are young New Yorkers too
Larry, Laikyn, Nathalia
Red Hook and Queens
I am a mazungoo
But here my name is not my mazoongoo name.
My name in Kibera is Mzee
Old man.
I was once young like them.
Not today.

We walk through the paths
Of Kibera.
Mud and tin shacks rise two-storys
Over paths of compressed garbage and mud.
Children play
They smile
Kibera all they know
Their world.
Gunmen roam Kibera
I'm not scared
I'm only scared of my wives.
Steve knows everyone
Everyone knows everyone
Now they know Mzee.

A dirty stream trickles along the path.
No running water
In Kibera.
Only these streams.

Vanessa's eight year old sister recites SLUM GIRL
"I am a slum girl "
Proudly defiant a slum superstar.

Hope

We walk more.
I buy watermelons at the shops
For the children
They smile with delight
They follow Mzee
Throwing gnawed rinds
On the ground to join
Dried mud and garbage
Further on
I buy another watermelon
More kids
More smiles
Old toothless women
Eat watermelon
Toothless smiles
Gunmen eat watermelon too
Fast Steve, Maureen, Ubah, Jackmon, Young Steve, Larry, Laikyn, Vanessa and Mzee smiles too u
We all love watermelon.
It offers happiness
For Mzee
For the young and old
For Kibera
The slum of hope
For the world
We are us
We are family

Today Shannon and Charlotta walk Kibera
With Steve and other Kiberans
I cannot fly yet
u They are my eyes and ears
They saved my life
Steve knows that
2024
I will be in Kibera
I will walk the paths
I will buy more watermelon
Mzee is coming
Nakuja 2024
https://youtu.be/eBpYgpF1bqQ?si=D7jlEpaAsjah_sX4

What Snow?

The US Meteorological Survey has reported that New York City received a little over twenty inches of snow this winter. All I saw were a few dustings, then again throughout February I was in Kenya and Tanzania.

Snow topped Mount Kilimanjaro and some days ran down the slopes, however the equatorial sun melted the snow cover by noon.

The temperature at the Maranzi Hut was around freezing at night, but my sleeping bag kept me warm, so I spend another winter without snow.

And there's nothing wrong with that.

Heading to Inkisanjane 2020 Kili Initiative

The 2020 Kili Intiative team has departed from the Kibo Lodge in Loitokitok for the Maasai Plains under the guidance of JM, Ma'we, and Fast Steve.

The road down to the highway is so familiar from last year with Mount Kilimanjaro looming behind the group of Tanzanian and Kenya young adults.

The valley stretches for miles to the east filled with lions, elephants, giraffes, zebra, and countless other African species.

At one point the map is spread atop a hill and the team navigators see to find where they are and where they need to go.

"I told you we need to go left..." "I have no idea where we are..." "Can you see if there is a Java nearby?"

Needless to say they found Inkisanjane.

They made dinner inside the school.

At night the team sat around a campfire. In less than a week I will join them and Commander Tim, but not on LoLoipange.

The Hill of Thorns.

Relax Chez Kibo Huts - 2019 Kili Initiative # 16

The 2019 Kili Initiative team was happy to be at the Kibo Slopes Guest House in Loitikikok. I hadn't been eaten by hyenas, no one had gotten sick, and we had conquered the birthplace of all thorns, Lolapange. Larry's ankle was a little tweaked from the morning run, otherwise we were in one piece.

"How far we walk," asked Laikyn.

"About 180 kilometres," answered JM, the head guide. "About 120 miles in six days. I think we are in good shape for Kilimanjaro, but the rest of the day is yours. Wash up and then we'll meet for breakfast. Just remember we will be staying in tents tonight."

"So we will have to hear Mzee snoring again?" asked Jackman.

"I talk in my sleep. Ma'we snores."

We laughed and emptied our bags.

"Funny, after all that walking I don't feel dirty."

"Feeling is one thing. Smelling is another." JM had already showered in the common bath.

"Okay, I'll shower."

I stripped off my clothes and soaped myself in hot water.

A true luxury.

Clean clothes.

Heaven.

"

Breakfast was served in the dining room.

Food prepared by someone else.

The team was joking about their cooking.

"Who was the best?"

They exchanged glances. Their eyes settled on Jackman and Maureen said, "Jackman makes the best ugali."

Jubbah or Young Steve argued that his was the best. "Jackman tastes like dust."

I left them dining room. Ubah was on her phone. She was speaking with her mother. I modded to her and went to the garden.

A fringe of snow hung onto the rim of Kilimanjaro.

Tim said that in twenty years the glacier will be gone.

I called him in Geneva. No one answered and I texted that everyone was safe and happy to be off the trail.

I found my tent and went to sleep.

I love a morning snooze.

The team was chilling around a table.

They were back in their trekking gear.

Mine was dry and I got back into my outfit.

An outsider only by age.

No one had money and I asked, "Who wants a soda?"

They all did and I ordered drinks from David at the restaurant. He served them on the patio.

JM came over and said, "Enjoy yourselves, because tomorrow we're starting the 'solo'."

I had heard about the 'solo' in New York Tim had said that I didn't need to go with the team.

"Are you going?" asked Ubah.

"Tim said I didn't." Staying forty-eight hours alone in a makeshift shelter without any lights wasn't too appealing, but I answered, "We are a team and a team stays together."

"Mzee."

"

We slap high-fives and I wandered off to my tent.

Ma'we followed and asked, "Are you really going on the solo?"

"Why not?"

"Because if I didn't have to, I wouldn't."

"Me too, but you're going, so is JM and Steve and I'm here to watch over you all, but not now. Let's go to town."

"The usual?"

""Yes, the usual."

It was a short walk.

Through fields.

To a friendly place for old men.

And the Konyagi was a happy sight for Mzee and Ma'we.

Kunywa.

Loitokitok by Foot- Kili Initiative # 15

The Kili Initiative 2019 team assembled at 5:55 for pre-dawn calisthenics. JM cancelled the morning jog, because the young people, Fast Steve, and JM were running from our campsite to Loitokitok. The team skipped breakfast to avoid stomach cramps. Johnny, the driver, loaded the backpacks, tents, and equipment onto the tuk-tuk. The ten runners set out a a fast clip. I had been a long distance runner in my youth, but the ranking M'zee or old person I opted for walking the fifteen kilimetres to Loitokitok. Ma'we was my companion.

We took our time through the farmlands. High fences protected the crops from goats and wild animals and Ma'we explained, "These fields are owned by the rich. They are worked by young men without any education other than farming. It is good land."

The Snows of Kilimanjaro gleamed in the sunlight.

Our trek up the mountain began in four days and I asked, "I've never climbed anything so high."

"It is not so hard until the final four hours. It will be cold and steep. The footing is not good, but you have strong legs, so you should make it."

"Will you be with me?"

"Every step of the way."

We reached the main road within an hour.

The small store on the highway was closed for the morning.

The traffic on the two lanes was heavy.

We were back in civilization.

I looked behind me.

"What? Did you forget something?" asked Ma'we, accustomed to my habit of misplacing my possessions.

"No, just thinking of where we had been. It was a good walk."

"Lolapange," laughed Ma'we.

"The Maasai Bar."

"The small school."

"Everything and now we have another ten kilometres to go. Maybe two hours."

A local Kenyan bus hoved into street.

Ma'we and I looked at each other.

"We'll be doing more walking on the mountain. I hate walking on highways."

Ma'we lifted his hand. The bus stopped for us. It was crowded with passengers. Kenyan music blared from the speakers. I smiled at a young boy. He smiled back. We high-fived and I danced to the music. I liked dancing.

Ten minutes later we arrived in Loitokitok ten minutes.

We had seen the runners on the way here and I asked, "Is it too early for a beer."

"Not in this town."

Ma'we knew his way around this town.

His farm was only thirty klicks away.

His loving family tended to his cows.

We walked down an alley.

Loitokitok have many of those.

We ordered Konyagi Cognac and Crest Soda.

No ice.

My friend mixed the drinks.

The cocktail tasted like paradise.

And Ma'we felt the same.

Africa. Kenya. Loitokitok.

Under a equatorial sky.

Just like Adam and Eve.

An African Sun Shower - Kili Initiative 2019 #14

We returned to the small town after the climbing exercise at the Maasai Rocks.

JM said we had the afternoon free.

The Kili Initiative team took a break.

I wandered to the nearby school.

The students had left for the day.

Their departing footprints scored the dust.

The school served the scattered communities.

The ground were devoid of plastic wrappers and the room were swept clean.

I met a teacher, Dauglas.

I told I had been a teacher at his age.

"I respect teachers as guides for the young."

He was 100%.This was his home. He came back to help his people.

Not everyone will make that sacrifice. I gave him a good flashlight. Nights are dark on the equator.

He gifted me a Maasai walking stick.

"It should only be held with the right hand."

I thanked him profusely for his warm-hearted gesture.

I headed back to the campsite. The wind was picking up.I felt a raindrop.

The first since arriving in Kenya. The Kili team members ran for shelter under the trees, as the rain became heavy.

https://youtu.be/S7q4QKOF6uA

The thunder pealed through the sky. I hadn't bathed in days and stripped to my underwear. My tee-shirt wiped off the trail of wet dirt. The downpour stopped after several minutes.

A rainbow arced overhead. i was clean. A lucky man in Africa. Every day so far.

Maasai Rocks - 2019 Kili Initiative # 12

After a quick lunch of sandwiches the Kili Initiative squad headed to the Maasai Rocks to learn climbing techniques. The footpath was typically dusty and the sun was high in the sky, however the temperature was pleasant on the high equatorial plain. I lagged behind the group as a rearguard against a lion attack. While I still thought I smelled okay, the rest of the team had nominated my stench as # 1. I didn't argue the point, because at 66 my body exuded a more malodorous fragrance than when I was as young at the young people ahead of me.

"Mzee." Someone shouted from a rock outcropping and I smiled for Mzee was a term of endearment for an old man. At least I imagined it was and I walked to the squad wrapped by an overwhelming happiness and I mentally thanked Tim Challen for inviting on this trip.

I climbed atop the rough stone stump with ease. I was only old in years. My body was still strong.

JM was instructing the team in how to properly get into the climbing straps.

"You can only do it standing."

It looked dangerous to try it any other way.

Fast Steve was tightening the straps and checking the gear.

I looked over the side of the cliff.

The drop was a good eighty feet or more.

I had climbed the Quincy Quarries as a teen, but was glad there was only enough climbing harnesses for the team and guides.

Young Steve, Jackman, and I sang BUFFALO SOLDIER with Larry as the beatbox.

Bob Marley was a saint in Kenya and most everywhere else in the world.

Vanessa didn't like her smile, but her gleamed in the sunlight.

JM asked if everyone was ready.

They all said yes and I agreed.

All I had to do was take photos.

Jackman made it up and down.

None of it looked easy.

Larry gave it his best.

As did his sister Laikyn.

Maureen struggled up the face.

Ubah got pretty high.

Young Steve reached the top in less than two minutes.

He was only 22.

I had been that age forty-four years ago.

I was much older now.

Nathalia was also successful.

JM said everyone had done well.

"The most important thing is to try."

"The key to triumph is in the first syllable," I stated from the shade of a tree.

"Then why don't you try?" asked Young Steve.

"Don't mind if I do."

I strapped into a harness. Six men manned the lead ropes. I weighed over two-hundred pounds and not all of it muscle.

My ascent was slow. The rocks were hot from the noonday sun. The six men struggled with my weight like I was a small refrigerator filled with beer.

My arm strength was deplorable.

My feet slipped and my knee smashed into the jagged rocks. Blood ran down my leg. JM shouted, "Enough."

He was wrong. Enough was more than enough.

I was happy to be on the ground.

We had a good laugh about my attempt.

And I had a good scar to show for my defeat.

A mark of triumph, because I had tried knowing the outcome before I tried it.

We walked back a tighter group than before.

We were the 2019 Kili Initiative Team.