With Turtle still hurting and our hope for another vehicle materializing by morning having vanished, we had decided to have a nice breakfast at a decent hour and then see what our fortunes held for us. Breakfast was amazing and, even though my stomach, which had been in poor order yesterday, hadn’t yet fully recovered, I couldn’t resist the omelette station (there’s something about an omelette station in the middle of the Serengeti that gets me every time) and the crispy bacon. Jill thought it was a bit much for me to have added the Tabasco sauce to the eggs, but there are just times when you must live dangerously, and this was one of those times. Fresh fruits and juices were plentiful as was the pressed coffee.
Unfortunately, even after enjoying breakfast with a generous amount of time, there were no sounds of another vehicle arriving in the distance, and it was unclear from our communications when that was going to occur. I knew that a new cylinder head was arriving this morning to the Seronera airport, but what unclear to me was whether they were waiting for the part to arrive and then shuttling it here to us with the vehicle we were going to use to get us home, or whether those were independent. To understand this dilemma, one must be familiar with the East African culture as it relates to communication. The simplest way to put it is that everything here is on a need-to-know basis. Information is generally kept “close to the vest” here and I have come to realize that it is not a distrust issue, but rather it is to prevent one from worrying about something. The less that is shared with you, the less you have to worry about if you don’t know enough to be aware of something wrong. I have been caught in these situations numerous times in which I am asked to intervene in a situation without having been given the full story, only to find myself on the wrong end of a discussion for being poorly informed on the details.
As we sat waiting at camp, it became more and more clear to me that the specifics for the additional vehicle for us to use and to get home were something that was either unknown or it just wasn’t going to be shared with us. At some point in the morning, though, I made the decision to send all the others off once again on safari in the Land Cruiser with Beatus, while Jill and I would hang around camp waiting for the other vehicle with the hope that it would show up in some reasonable amount of time for us to do some game viewing. Despite multiple messages telling us that the vehicle was on its way, along with a few false alarms when we heard other vehicles approaching the camp, the vehicle didn’t arrive until well after noon to pick us up. The big issue we had now was that we had to cross over into the NCA by a certain time, otherwise each of us could potentially be charged for another day in the Serengeti which was a whopping $80 per person. We had originally intended to meet up at the visitor center, but with the long delay we were having, they would meet us instead at Naabi Gate, the entrance to the park and pass through so as not to accrue the additional fee, at least for a part of the group. We found the others, who had already found a table for everyone, shortly after arriving to Naabi, and all had our lunches together.
We said our goodbyes to the camp staff and hit the road, heading first for the visitor center where we were hoping to pick up some supplies for Kitashu’s boma where we’d be stopping after leaving the Serengeti. The small store in the village where the locals shop at Seronera did not have what we needed, so we make our way towards the gate to meet up with the others there. By the time we reached the gate to have lunch, there was time enough to relax and eat without feeling the pressure of needing to be somewhere on time, though we did need to get rolling to Kitashu’s boma as the main gate for the NCA would close at 6 pm sharp and spending a night around the crater waiting for it to open up again in the morning was not something any of us would have enjoyed.
We were still in need of supplies for the village which I had been taught to bring many years ago when visiting the Maasai socially. I usually make a point of having our guide buy them in Karatu before we leave – soap, cooking oil, rice, sugar, tea, and, most importantly, pipi, or candy, for the children – but had forgotten to do so when we left. There is a very small village, Kimba, that contains many shops used by the Maasai that is very close to Kitashu’s boma and would work well for picking up these things, so the decision was to stop there first. The village is only about half the size of what it was just a few years ago as part of the process of moving the Maasai out of the NCA, though there are enough people still residing in the region to keep the businesses open.
Kimba is only a short distance up a small road that is immediately off the rim road, though with recent rains, the road was extremely bumpy and rough. To say the village is quite rustic would be an understatement, but this is essentially a model Maasai village (not boma) that one sees throughout the NCA, and had several shops, a bar, and, surprisingly, a hotel. I had jumped out of the car with Joram to buy supplies while Jill, Joe, and Sandy, had remained in the vehicle. Joe had joked with Sandy about checking out of Gibb’s and coming to stay at the hotel in Kimba, but, appropriately so, she declined his offer considering the surroundings. If that wasn’t enough, Joe then offered up Jill and Sandy to one of the locals to take as his wives, but, thankfully, the offer was declined, and we were able to take the two them home with us. Having to explain to the families why there were left in the NCA would have been a bit difficult.
Once stocked with supplies for the boma, we left Kimba and drove the short distance to Kitashu’s home, where he spends most weekends taking care of his cattle and any other business needing attention. Kitashu was born and raised here in the NCA and walked to and from school six kilometers ever day. While working at FAME, he has brought his wife and two children to live in Karatu as his oldest son goes to school at Tumaini currently and his younger son will likely go there as well soon. Kitashu has graciously opened his home, as have so many other Tanzanians, to the residents and others traveling with us and it has always been an incredible experience for everyone. His entire extended family turns out to share in the festivities that include dancing, singing, building a fire, and sharing a goat roast. We did everything today other than the goat roast, as he wasn’t sure of our arrival time, though in fact, most of the group weren’t interested in eating goat today.
We departed the boma making a beeline for the gate in both vehicles (including Kitashu catching a ride back to Karatu with us), riding around the rim with the crater in full view to our left, and then heading downhill through the primordial forest. Though this is a once in a lifetime trip, Jill and I will be doing it again in several weeks and looking forward to every minute of it. The Serengeti is a magical place that is beyond comparison and no matter how often you visit, you will always see or experience something new.
