Bangladeshi storm

I love a good Bangladeshi storm. The boom in the air! The sense of awe in the power of a lightning strike. The chaotic, swirling build-up. The stifling, oppressive air. The darkness.

I love the feeling after the storm has passed; the air now lighter and purer. It smells fresher. Everything is calm and rejuvenated.

The life of the Bengali people, physically or spiritually is consistently inundated by the monsoon rain. During the monsoon a Bengali heart resonates with the water deluge, and mine started as well.

Bring it on, I think. Rage as you will. We’ll breathe easier when you’ve finished raging.

Oreo, the diplodog is terrified of storms. Always sensitive to sound, he cannot take the claps of thunder here. His anxiety has swollen now that to the extent that during one of the nights I rolled over and found him on my pillow. He never ever climbs higher than my feet. But now it's different, he just wants to escape from something that is everywhere.

Crossing Kilimanjaro off my bucket list

I'll have to be honest here, I didn't not even dare putting Mt. Kilimanjaro on my bucket list. It was something that fascinated me ever since I was a little kid, but it always seemed so remote. Until this summer, when I got a chance to be in Tanzania! I could not have missed climbing Kili.

The Marangu Route, the trail that I picked, catches hell for not being very interesting in terms of landscape and for forcing a rapid ascent. My experience? Thought it was great.

To give a sense of the pace of our climb, I included a map showing the route we covered. Take a deep breath. Let’s get moving!

Day 1: Marangu Gate to Mandara Hut – “Easy as taking candies from a baby!”
Begin: Marangu gate 1,840m/6,036 ft; End: Mandara Hut 2,720m/8,923ft
Elevation gain: 880m/2,887ft; Distance: 8km/5mi


The climb is much like a walk in the park. Moss hangs from trees, waterfalls whisper in the distance. Red clay and forest: this is one of nature’s finest complimentary color combinations. Our pace is absurdly slow, like shuffled footsteps.

As we make our way up, porters and trekkers fresh from their summit experience run down, eager to wind things up and take a shower. And yes, we can really smell this.
We settle down for the night at Mandara Huts. We force down as much food as possible for dinner while finishing well beyond our four liters of water for the day.

Day 2: Mandara Hut to Horombo Hut – “This Really Isn’t So Bad”
Begin: Mandara Hut 2,720m/8,923ft; End: Horombo Hut 3,720m/12,204ft
Elevation gain: 1,000m/3,280ft; Distance: 12 km/7.5mi

The landscape changes from willowed rainforest to shrub-strewn heath and moorland. The land becomes textured, perfect for mid-mountain light.

Peaks begin to appear. First Mawenzi Peak and then the snow-capped Uhuru Peak in the distance. Our final goal is in sight.

At Horombo Huts, our stop for the night, we realize that we are now above those clouds. We feel a lift, thinking how far we’ve come, but we also take deeper breaths to capture more of the oxygen our bodies need.

The rapid ascent to high altitude begins to register. Broken sleep, too. Besides getting up to pee every single hour because of the Diamox (the anti altitude sickness pills), bouts of anxiety and hallucination-like dreams take hold. I wake up in the middle of the night, my heart racing. My head tells my heart this is normal. A few deep breaths and I fall back asleep.

Day3: Horombo Hut extra day

Day 4: Horombo Hut to Kibo Hut – “We can do this”

Begin: Horombo Hut 3,720m/12,204ft; End: Kibo Hut 4,703m/15,430ft
Elevation gain: 983m/3,225ft; Distance: 12 km/7.5mi

The clouds stay away, and our views of the peak and its glaciers remind us not only of how fortunate we are to be here. A road is carved to the horizon. Each time we reach what seems like an end, a new beginning awaits us. This path seems infinite.

Then Kibo Hut appears, a gift to bring this day to an end. This is base camp territory. It’s basic, it’s barren. There’s no running water. For so many reasons, time here must be limited. No need to force it, for our climbing schedule is about to take an inhumane leap.

A short acclimatization walk, then rest, then early dinner. We are cold. We are tired. We all wonder what summit day will feel like. We wonder whether we’ll make it. For the next couple of hours, we “sleep.” But this is no sleep, just short of full-blown insomnia.

Day 4 Night/Day 5: Summit and Back Down – “Let’s Do This”
Ascent: Kibo Hut 4,703m/15,430ft to Uhuru Peak 5,895m/19,341ft (via Gilman Point and Stella Point)
Elevation gain to Summit (Uhuru Peak): 1,192m/3,911ft; Distance: 10km/6.2mi
Descent: Uhuru Peak to Horombo Hut: 2,175m/7,135ft; Distance: 22km/13.7mi

Wake up is 11 PM. Our “day” begins with "breakfast". I’m not the least bit interested in eating, but I force it down. My head aches. It’s like someone constantly applies pressure on it . We pile on every layer of clothing we have — and we’re out the door. It’s midnight.

“We are here. It’s time. Let’s do this thing! "

We begin to walk. “Pole, pole,” our guides remind us. (Slowly, slowly.)

12:30 AM

God, I hate volcanic ash. Though it’s not as bad as one step forward, two steps back, it’s something close.

1:15 AM

It’s demoralizing. Keep your head down!

2:00 AM

I look up, ignoring my own advice. The lights from head lamps that punctuate the darkness snake up the mountain to the edge of the sky. I wonder if I’ll be able to sustain this.

2:30 AM

The first of our potential casualties, one of our fellow climbers has a break down. The guides act quickly.

3:00 AM

One of our fellow climbers starts throwing up. I am OK, but am painfully realizing my boots are ill prepared for the climb. I am wondering if I wont lose a toe to frost bites.

My exhaustion is so thorough that I catch myself falling asleep as I walk. Sleepwalking while walking, I have not done this since I was in the army.

4:00 AM

Head down, one foot in front of the other. Water is already frozen solid in our backpacks. Fortunately, I have some wrapped in a pair of socks.

4:30 AM

We stop occasionally, but not often enough for my needs. I look down and see a chain of headlamp lights snaking below. I’m pleased to have made it so far, but wondering how much more I have to go. In darkness, there’s comfort in not knowing how infinite this mountain might be.

5:00 AM

I look up. I think I can see the crest of the mountain.

5:20 AM – Gilman Point (5,681 m/18,638ft)
The first big milestone of the day. We rest, but not for long.

“Uhuru Peak is not that far away,”  our guide offers some motivation.

6:10 AM Stella Point (5,730m/18,800ft)

On your way up, NEVER EVER listen to anyone coming down who says, “It’s not long now.” It’s long. Trust me!

Kilimanjaro’s glaciers begin to glow in the early morning light. Under other circumstances, I’d be taking photos by the hundreds, but I focus my energy uphill. From here, I can see the peak, but not the place where climbers are celebrating. I can beat this, but it’s slow. Very slow.

7:20 AM – Summit, Uhuru Peak (5,895m/19,340ft)

Our final steps are all emotion. Fatigue is forgotten and adrenaline takes over. I’ve dreamed of this moment countless times. I linger, snapping photos and getting drunk on thin air. The views are even more impressive than we imagined. I can’t recognize the potential danger. At twenty minutes, I'm pushing my luck; my guide “encourages” me to head back down.

In an aim to return to Kibo Hut as soon as possible, we move very quickly. Too quickly, it seems. BUt getting more oxygen feels great!

Making our way down, a quick descent.

As we bounce down the scree below Gilman Point, I’m amazed by what we’d scaled. When we arrive at Kibo Hut, I collapse into my bed. I wake up to breakfast 45 minutes later. Or is it lunch? Who cares?

After a full meal and a short rest, it’s time to hit the road to Horombo Hut to retire for the night. And yes, to breathe!

Day 6: Horombo Hut to Marangu Gate – “Savor the Victory”

Begin: Horombo Hut 3720m/12,204ft; End: Marangu Gate 1840m
Elevation loss: 1,880m/6170ft; Distance: 20 km/12.5mi

It’s a long way down, so we get an early start. But as early starts go, this is a good one. We all feel so well. We stopped taking the Diamox, so didn’t wake up to pee as much. We slept!

We enjoy the early morning light and clouds as we walk. This is the second time we’ve seen this stretch of terrain, but this time it looks different. It’s in the shadow of the summit, a place we’ve been.

Now we’re the ones coming down –- more stinky, more confident — and we’re encouraging those heading up. How much can change in just a few days.

And then the celebration! Drinking a well deserved Kilimanjaro beer!

 

And yes, thinking about the stories we will have to share for the rest of our lives!!!!

You say goodbye, I say hello

The greatest thing about the foreign service lifestyle is getting to meet so many people you otherwise wouldn’t. You make friends with those you would otherwise never have met. Sometimes you meet people at just the right time, and you know you’ll always be friends. You have just the right amount of things in common. Just the right mix. The support to make a difficult time pass easier, and good times more enjoyable.

The most awful thing about our lifestyle, is that for every one of these Hellos, for every one of these new friends we welcome into our hearts, there is a corresponding  Goodbye, looming in the distance. I don’t know how, but we get through it. The price we pay for every friend we make is to have another little piece of our heart taken away and beating at a distance. We tell ourselves it is okay, because one day we’ll visit and find that tiny piece of ourselves in tact, ready to be close again. BUT, as much as we can logically prepare ourselves, saying goodbye still hurts.

This week I said goodbye to my friend, who have now returned to England. He had become like my own little brother and I already miss him terribly. I smile at the Hello that brought him into my life, and gave me a taste of true friendship again. I want to go to England. Don’t want to say goodbye, I just want to say hello.

It's Beatles that sounds in my mind with their:

Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello!

My pieces around the world keep adding up to a lot of heart already, and it is growing all the time.

Mount Kili's life lessons

I set out to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro as just another check box on my bucket list. In the end though, it turned out to be a journey in its own way. Somewhere beyond Kilimanjaro’s snow-patched Uhuru Peak, I learned lessons that resonated beyond the mountain-climbing task at hand.

Here are some of them, not necessarily in order of importance:1. Go slowly, slowly.

“Pole. Pole.” (Swahili for “Slowly. Slowly”) I heard it thousand times on the mountain. It cannot be said enough. It is the single greatest key to the enjoyment of climbing and the satisfaction of summiting Kilimanjaro. A slow but deliberate pace is the key to continually managing energy and acclimatizing to altitude.

In life, sometimes pole pole – one foot in front of the other; slowly, slowly, surely and deliberate — all the way to the end — is the best way to ensure you reach your goals.

2. Your greatest inhibitor lives inside your head.

On Mt. Kilimanjaro, if it’s not only man vs. mountain, it’s most definitely you vs. yourself. On the way up, it’s easy to let the anxiety demons stop you. “Am I getting altitude sickness? I’m not going to make it. I’m not strong enough.” These fears take over during the day, and when you’re trying to sleep, they suck your mental and physical energy. You must overcome it to get to the top.

Don’t let the voices of panic and the ghosts of failures past cloud your success story.

3. Support is a powerful thing.

Understand in life that you are not alone, and that you’ll need the support of others. On the mountain, it comes in the form of a mob of people including guides, porters, and cooks all watching out for you. Not to mention, your partners in the climb. Take comfort in others who have taken the challenge before you, with you and in your wake. Along the way, accept their support. And give it, too.

Our entire Mt. Kilimanjaro team: climbers, guides, porters, cooks and all.


4. Enjoy the journey.

Keep your head down if you need to, but don't forget to look up. Look forward, but also look back to know where you’ve been and to appreciate the beauty of where you stand. Works on the mountain. Works in life.

5. Give yourself to acclimatize and adjust.

Take an extra day if you need to, or take short hikes to higher elevation at the end of each day. The idea is to take a taste of the thinner air that awaits you and return to a comfortable place so you can sleep at night; you will be better equipped – mentally and physically — to take on the challenge in the morning. Life is similar and when you move from one comfort zone to the next, give yourself some extra time to adjust along the way.


6. Be confident, but don’t underestimate what's ahead

How is Kili? Doable, but not to be underestimated. Kilimanjaro is not a technical climb, ascending to 5,895 meters (19,340 feet) is no easy feat.

There is a fine balance between confidence and underestimating the task. Kilimanjaro is within reach. Don’t freak yourself out about a challenge to the point of not doing it, but understand that it may take more energy and determination than you ever bargained for. That’s OK. You can do it.


7. Drink your water.

Water helps clear the body of all ills. Nowhere is that more true than at high altitude. We were instructed to drink at least four liters of water each per day. In reality, I had lot more. And yes, that meant a lot of bathroom trips in the middle of the night.


8. Personal victories are satisfying, but group victories are awesome.

Joy in the success of others. It’s a great thing.

Living a "Big Mac"less life

Being an expat makes you do funny things. You make friends with individuals you would never even think of hanging out with at home. You go on adventures you wouldn’t ever think you would. And yes, you eat things you never thought you’d touch. Yeah, I’m talking about crazy foods like insects, intestines, pigeons, duck tongues and so on. But that's not all. I’m also talking about fast food: Burger King, KFC, Subway, and McDonalds.

At home, I rarely ate McDonalds, and even less at Subway. Blame it on Hollywood for making so many movies about how fast food will kill.

But ever since we moved to Bangladesh, only the thought of McDonalds feels so comforting, so delicious, so familiar. Something similar to warm memories of the comfort food grandma used to make.

When we get a chance to "dine" in a McDonalds in Bangkok or anywhere else close to our new home, not only is the place and the food more familiar, but I firmly believe it actually tastes better than when eaten at home.

So when I came across this great map that charts countries without a McDonald’s, my heart felt a little heavy. Asia has done an amazing job at catching up, with Bangladesh still being an unconquered territory. I’m not going to lie, it still disappointing to see the Desh a deep, dark, empty shade of blue. Before moving here, I don’t think I’d ever stepped foot in a country that did not have a McDonald’s…

Luckily, we have Kenny Rogers Fried Chicken. And don’t worry, it’s only while I am living abroad.

Africa's symbolic tribe, the Masaai

It does not matter if you ever set foot in Africa or not. You would still identify the continent with these tall herdsmen of the Masai standing erect, red robes wrapped round their shoulders, stick and knife to one side. If the Dallas Cowboys are THE “American Team” , it's safe to say the Masai are Africa’s symbolic tribe.

The day I entered the Ngongoro Conservation Area in Tanzania, I first made a stop at a Masai village. I knew they were a nomadic people and that they lived generally in both sides of the border between Kenya and Tanzania. However, that was the extent of my knowledge about them.

I found the short glimpse we got into their lifestyle very interesting. I got a chance to visit one of the small huts and there talk a little bit about how they live.

Among the things one of the warriors shared:

• things are communal; they make crafts and the sales go to the entire group
• they are polygamous
• since their huts are so small, the house in which the warrior sleeps at night, any kids older than 4-5 get sent to another wife’s hut
• the warriors’ job is the safety of the group; women have a long list of things they are responsible for like building the huts, cooking, fetching water, minding the children, etc.
• life centers around the cattle on whose milk and blood they depend
• they move every 2-3 months to a new place (where there is more grass for their cattle)
• when someone dies, they leave the body out in the open to be nourishment for animals; they leave some marker so people know not to build their camp there; supposedly, a few months need to pass before the area can be used again
• they live typically into their 100s.

I left with admiration for a people who seem to strike a workable balance between living according to their traditions while dealing with some of modern life with common sense.