The alarm went off WAY too early this morning at 5:45am. While I moaned and rolled over, Andrea squealed and jumped out of bed and came flying across the room to attack me. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! Oh my gosh, I'm 30...I'd forgotten. She had already been awake for an hour barely able to contain herself.
We slowly got our act together and met
We slowly got our act together and met
up with our group. We piled into the van and made the long slow drive to the Marangu gates to start Day 1 of our ascent. As we got closer, Kilimanjaro loomed ahead of us and we all grew silent. The red dust road and mud huts disappeared and were replaced by large lush banana trees and coffee crops. The vegetation grew more and more dense around us until we knew we were officially in the rainforest. It was stunning! The bright sun warmed our hearts and fed our excitement. We officially pulled into Kilimanjaro National Park and after registering and meeting our head guide, 25 porters (The chief porter looked approximately 15 years old) and cook, we walked through the gates and into the jungle. The scenery was breathtaking, but the path was rougher and steeper than I had expected. I was under the impression Day 1 was supposed to be the easiest day. Something tells me I'm in trouble..
As the day progressed, the jungle started to heat up and became down right steamy, which made it very difficult to imagine it being -20 at the top! Every so often a string of porters would trudge by us with massive bundles on their heads. How they did it, I have no idea. It made our seemlying heavy packs look pathetic. For a good part of the day, we scuffed our feet along the path in order to pace ourselves as we were constantly being reminded by our porters, "Pole, Pole" (slowly, slowly) in order to aclimatize as much as possible. Meanwhile, I was trying my best to control my extremely awkward hiking poles so that I wasn't stabbing Andrea's heels with every step. No luck with that.
We rolled into camp late afternoon and noticed the air had gotten increasingly cooler and we were surrounded by a light mist - clouds. Suddenly, one of the porters came running over yelling "meeting, meeting!" Thinking an emergency meeting was being called, we rushed out of our huts to see the porter pointing into the trees. The porters are well educated and generally decent at communicating in English, but there are times where the language barrier is in full effect. Like when I had asked one of the porters how many times he'd climbed Kili.
Him - "About 4 days up and 2 days down"
Me - "Right, but how many TIMES have you climbed Kili?"
Him - "5850m"
Hmm...How else could I possibly say this? I sat thinking, thinking. Nope, there was just no other way to say it. So I decided to try it again more slowly.
Me - "Hooowww mannny timmes havve youuu climmmbed Killlii?"
Everyone grew silent with anticipation.
Him - "About 4 days up and 2 days down"
Nevermind.
Turns out "meeting, meeting" meant "monkey, monkey". A head popped up from the ferns, then two. We stood, killing our selves laughing at these giant monkeys bolting up and down trees, swinging all over the place. It hit me - I'm standing in a jungle in Africa watching monkeys playing. I must be dreaming!
Our first dinner on the mountain was one of the most memorable dinners I will ever have. After everyone was finished eating, my group, then the whole dining hall joined in for a round of Happy Birthday. It was more than enough, but nothing could have prepared me for what came next. Outside, I could hear men singing. It got closer and closer until the dining hall doors burst open and our head guide, followed by 25 porters came through singing in Swahili, holding a plate with corn muffins and 3 big candles. They surrounded me and started dancing, while everyone clapped along loudly. They gave me 2 pots with plastic flowers, and stuck a Canada cap on my head, which one of the porters had donated as my gift, and Solomon, our guide, fed me a birthday muffin. Three songs later, I sat in disbelief, laughing hysterically. Andrea was crying. With everything our guides and porters already had to do, the thought and effort that went into making my birthday special was beyond touching. Coming here to spend my 30th birthday was one of the best decisions I have ever made. I could not imagine being anywhere else right now.
As the day progressed, the jungle started to heat up and became down right steamy, which made it very difficult to imagine it being -20 at the top! Every so often a string of porters would trudge by us with massive bundles on their heads. How they did it, I have no idea. It made our seemlying heavy packs look pathetic. For a good part of the day, we scuffed our feet along the path in order to pace ourselves as we were constantly being reminded by our porters, "Pole, Pole" (slowly, slowly) in order to aclimatize as much as possible. Meanwhile, I was trying my best to control my extremely awkward hiking poles so that I wasn't stabbing Andrea's heels with every step. No luck with that.
We rolled into camp late afternoon and noticed the air had gotten increasingly cooler and we were surrounded by a light mist - clouds. Suddenly, one of the porters came running over yelling "meeting, meeting!" Thinking an emergency meeting was being called, we rushed out of our huts to see the porter pointing into the trees. The porters are well educated and generally decent at communicating in English, but there are times where the language barrier is in full effect. Like when I had asked one of the porters how many times he'd climbed Kili.
Him - "About 4 days up and 2 days down"
Me - "Right, but how many TIMES have you climbed Kili?"
Him - "5850m"
Hmm...How else could I possibly say this? I sat thinking, thinking. Nope, there was just no other way to say it. So I decided to try it again more slowly.
Me - "Hooowww mannny timmes havve youuu climmmbed Killlii?"
Everyone grew silent with anticipation.
Him - "About 4 days up and 2 days down"
Nevermind.
Turns out "meeting, meeting" meant "monkey, monkey". A head popped up from the ferns, then two. We stood, killing our selves laughing at these giant monkeys bolting up and down trees, swinging all over the place. It hit me - I'm standing in a jungle in Africa watching monkeys playing. I must be dreaming!
Our first dinner on the mountain was one of the most memorable dinners I will ever have. After everyone was finished eating, my group, then the whole dining hall joined in for a round of Happy Birthday. It was more than enough, but nothing could have prepared me for what came next. Outside, I could hear men singing. It got closer and closer until the dining hall doors burst open and our head guide, followed by 25 porters came through singing in Swahili, holding a plate with corn muffins and 3 big candles. They surrounded me and started dancing, while everyone clapped along loudly. They gave me 2 pots with plastic flowers, and stuck a Canada cap on my head, which one of the porters had donated as my gift, and Solomon, our guide, fed me a birthday muffin. Three songs later, I sat in disbelief, laughing hysterically. Andrea was crying. With everything our guides and porters already had to do, the thought and effort that went into making my birthday special was beyond touching. Coming here to spend my 30th birthday was one of the best decisions I have ever made. I could not imagine being anywhere else right now.
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