Day 6: Tarangire

It was a Long drive yesterday from the Serengeti to the Boundary Hill Lodge on the edge of the Tarangire National Park. We caught some good paved road East of the Ngorongoro but the last hour and a half was on four wheel drive ruts over the red dirt. We passed many poor little farms and more than a couple small children dressed in little more than dirty rags out shepherding goats. To my surprise, people really do live is small grass huts here and termite mounds abound. I suspected that the guides were avoiding the National Park and the accompanying fees but, it turns out, we were on the main trail to our accommodations. This was clearly not a drive to the local Sheraton. Things are much more primitive here. It's not just that this feels like we are heading to some remote third world destination… we are heading to a remote third world destination. To top off the whole experience, we pass seven elephants at a water hole not far from the entrance to the lodge. The big ones raise their trunks in warning and moved off a short distance until we moved on.

The lodge is half-owned by the local Maasai and exudes a rustic charm with lots of interesting alcoves, archways, walls, and stairs of natural stone, wood, and cement in earthy muted colors. There are eight separate cottages all built directly into the granite rocks of a ridge overlooking plains peppered with massive baobab trees. From our vantage above, the trees look like miniature thick-stalked broccoli florets. In each of the cottages, all of the rooms, including the bath, are situated to take full advantage of the magnificent views. I love a toilet with a good view! Very civilized. George and Carol's cottage even has a claw foot tub directly on their large patio deck. I had a great soak with the wide Tarangire plain spread out below my toes while I was serenaded by the

tinkling of the Maasai cowbells in the distance. Who cares if the hot water was tinged brown with rust? The dining and social area of the lodge is likewise situated to maximize the available vista. There is an open air fireplace set in a stone wall fronting a stone patio; comfortable chairs and sofas sit under overhanging roofs; and the open air dining area features views of the plain through brick framed arches; very nice.

This morning we headed out on a walking safari directly from the lodge entrance. We had two guides: a 26 year old dark-skinned, lean-limbed Maasai named Oloah (or Luis) with ritualistic circular scarring on his cheeks and Moses the "old man" who is 10 years younger than George and looks 10 years older. Not 20 minutes out from the lodge we came across a small herd of elephants. They are something to see from a land rover but something else entirely when you are on your feet at ground level and less than 40 yards away from such massive animals. After snapping a few pics, the seriousness and potential danger of the situation was underscored when the guides made sure we veered well off the path to give the elephants a very wide berth as we headed on our way. It felt good to stretch our legs after spending so much time on planes and in Land Rovers but after awhile Grandma and Grandpa and the girls returned to home with Oloah while Julie and Jim and Zak and I continued on with Moses. We passed massive baobobs, one with pegs pounded into the trunk to enable the natives to climb up and harvest honey from bees that enter their hive through small holes in the trunk. Some trunks were so hollowed out all four of us could comfortably stand inside. Porcupines and hyenas carved dens under some trees; the entrance to one hyena den was littered with zebra bones. There were actually many bones scattered about the plains. This is not a zoo, nature is fairly unforgiving. As any of you know who have hiked with me, I find that you can find out a lot about the local fauna by looking at the scat on the ground. What's brown and sounds like a bell? Dung! We found hyena and jackal scat, droppings from the Maasai cattle and, of course, the ubiquitous elephant dung. We also passed many termite mounds with trees growing out of them. Apparently the savannah becomes so hard-packed during the dry season that tree seedlings have a hard time getting started. The termites aerate the soil with their mounds and tunnels creating conditions in which young tree roots can find some purchase. A similar situation occurs in and around the rock kopjes in the Serengeti. Of course trees face the additional risk here of being pushed down by elephants, which apparently the elephants like to do. For part of our walk we were joined by two young Maasai boys who seemed to be looking for little more than a little diversion from the monotony of herding cattle all day. As we neared the lodge, we came upon another group of elephants forcing us to again circumnavigate our intended path for our own safety. We enjoyed a good two hour walk and when we returned we discovered that Oloah called a vehicle to come pick up the group that returned first and while enroute they passed two small elephant herds, one of which was no doubt the same one we saw on our return.

After a little r and r, we boarded the vehicles for a visit to a Maasai boma or family complex. The one we visited was the home of one man with seven wives, each of which had constructed her own stick and mud hut/house within the perimeter of the stick and thorn wall fencing in the compound. The interior of the huts were small and dark and hot and encompassed a cooking fire and two small sleeping platforms; only one fist-sized opening offered ventilation and that was usually plugged with a rag out of fear of snakes. The man visits each house in turn for a week at a time. If a friend comes to visit he is given a house and a wife for the duration of his visit which has apparently exacerbated the spread of AIDS among the Maasai. In the middle of the compound is a thorn corral where the cattle are kept at night and within that a smaller corral for goats. With the animals come the flies. They are everywhere: clustered on the moist corners of the eyes and lips of the children, in our faces, and covering my hip pack. We shoo them away but the Maasai children are clearly resigned to their condition and their fate. Grim.