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“What are you doing there?” I asked, visions of a breakdown, or more unusual, a flood passing through my head. “Just making chai (tea) and having a rest,” was
reply. They may have been traveling in greater comfort and with far more gadgets than we ever did but some things stay same. Sitting under a thorn tree with heat waves shimmering air, smell of dust mixed with old goat droppings and sweetly pungent tea simmering over fire, is a common experience for people in Africa. But most of wayfarers don’t have a satellite phone to chat on while they rest.
I couldn’t help wondering what locals might feel if they came upon this sight. Some of them have rarely seen white people much less technology.There are those who call them primitive. I prefer to see them as people who have learned to live off land without need of all trappings of so-called civilizations. Could we make our homes out of thorn trees, our fires out of twigs or dung and feed our families on less food than my pets have to eat?
I asked my daughter how things were. “Fine” she said, stock answer of teenagers everywhere. I got off phone as quickly as possible knowing fortune being spent just to tell me she was fine. I would get my news when she returned.
Their final destination was an outpost on shores of Lake Turkana several hours further on. This lake was “discovered” by a German Count in 1888. Most people would expect lakeshore of a large freshwater lake to be lush with foliage and cool from breezes that blow over its waters. Not so this lake. It is surrounded by viciously sharp, black volcanic rock, vomited from throat of a distant volcano eons ago. The sparse vegetation is mostly thorny acacia trees blown sideways by fierce gusts of winds that blow when sun goes down. Dry desert surrounds Lake Turkana, hostile to man and beast. Hot blasts of heat mock dry riverbeds while sucking moisture from air. Daytime temperatures of 120 degrees are common. It is amazing that any life survives. Just when you are certain world has ended leaving you alone on a dead planet, a herd of goats will meander over a rise followed by a silent black figure.
About time you think you must go mad from vicious heat, swirling dust and back jarring bumps, your vehicle crests a slight rise and you lose your breath. Before you is an immense lake, shimmering like a mirage. Viewed from a distance lake this day is gray/blue, mysterious. Other days it is a deep green, colored by algae blooms that prompted early travelers to name it Jade Sea . The road, a mere track, approaches lake through lava fields then turns northward. The traveler wonders where this road leads, if anywhere. There is no visible end, just mile upon mile of dusty dirt track.
The Place of Trees.
Eventually, road winds into desert outpost of Loyangalani — place of trees.
Read this entire feature FREE with photos at: http://www.jetsettersmagazine.com/archive/jetezine/globe02/africa02/kenya/turkana/hello.html
By Bobbi Buchanan, Arkansas, Correspondent, Jetsetters Magazine at www.jetsettersmagazine.com
Bobbi Buchanan, Jetsetters Magazine Correspondent. Join the Travel Writers Network in the logo at www.jetsettersmagazine.com
