The journey continues and thanks to the adventures of my first ten days, I am already behind in my blog writing, but perhaps when you read what has happened you will forgive me.
My flight to Kenya went on without a hitch and gladly I made it here with all my stuff (I’m especially glad since Virgin Airways made me check my carry-on). I spent a few days dealing with the politics of permit renewal and bought the last of my supplies at Nakumatt, which is one of the nicest grocery/department stores in the area and is akin to a Walmart. Then I took the five hour taxi up to Mpala. Having been unable to reach anyone there I left not knowing if there would be a place to stay, but I figured I could always sleep in the car. The ride up made me realize that one of the things I miss about the field is actually bumping about in the car. I don’t feel like I am really in the bush until I am flying out of my seat and clinging to the window handle for dear life. It is usually at the moment of highest in-car flight that one sees an elephant knocking down a tree or a giraffe peacefully trotting away. As a result, I think I have an almost conditioned reaction to the bumping that links the jolt of the car to the best wildlife watching.
Mpala always reminds me of a college campus, just one in the bush and Princeton students were busy checking their emails as dik-diks scurried through the fields nearby. I had some interesting chats with graduate students from around the world that had come to work at Mpala and was pleased to find the Blue Beast (that’s my car) waiting for me in one piece and not too much worse for the wear.
During dinner, a swallow flew into the refrigerator and fell to the ground. I walked over to it to see if it was still alive and it promptly flew into another wall. Without even thinking I pulled off my fleece and picked up the bird before it could do anymore damage to itself; I lifted it up and although its beak looked a bit out of whack it flew off with no trouble. No one seemed to notice either the bird or my odd behavior and dinner proceeded as usual with discussions of marathons to be run (one is being held in Laikipia) and data to be analyzed.
I had been really nervous about the drive back to Nairobi given that I am now six months out of practice driving on the wrong side of the car on the wrong side of the road with the extra excitement of the stick shift to handle. The Mpala mechanic assured me that driving a stick was like riding a bike. Having survived the journey back, I can actually agree. Being back in the Blue Beast was exhilarating and I felt like the car was an extension of myself. I didn’t stall once the entire trip back.