Friday the 5th of October, our program group set off for weeklong trip to the northernmost part of Kenya: Lake Turkana. Turkana is a desolate part of the country that even local Kenyans we told we going there dropped their jaws, and in the movie “The Constant Gardener” it is described as “Hell”. We woke up early that morning to finish packing and take all of our stuff to a very large safari truck/bus that would be our transportation for the next week. We departed Nairobi heading north along the shoulder of Mt. Kenya towards Samburu Game Reserve, where we would spend our first night.

About four hours into our trip we parted with the paved roads that we so dearly loved, and set off on a bumpy adventure on horrible dirt roads – some considered to be the worst roads in all of Africa. As we neared Samburu, we passed through the last actual town and for the rest of the time did not see one single building or even a duka. What we did see were small villages off the side of the road of huts belonging to the Samburu people. We entered the park and drove about 15 minutes to our campsite. It was dark at this point and in the light projecting from the truck’s headlights, an elephant appeared in front of us on the road. We stopped and flashed our lights at it to get it to move away so we could continue. Instead, it turned toward our vehicle and started scuffing its front foot (much like a bull) at us. We thought it was going to charge us! But fortunately it turned and moseyed away. We arrived at our campsite where there were tents set up for us and a fire awaiting. As we sat around the fire, our cooks prepared an amazing dinner for us. After dinner, Steven (our tour guide) talked to us about Samburu culture and taught us a traditional Samburu song and dance.

The next morning we awoke to about 20 monkeys running around our campsite observing us. Some managed to sneak onto our bus and had to be chased out. We had breakfast and left for our morning game drive, where we saw tons of animals including elephants drinking water by the river, giraffes cooling themselves off in the river just a ways down, and baboons engaging in “Discovery Channel” activity (use your imagination). After the game drive we went to a Samburu village where we were invited to participate in song and dance, to see inside the huts, and to see how the village operates. The Samburu are a nomadic tribe, so about every six months they break down their village and move to an area where their animals can graze. It was interesting talking to them, but there was a sense of lack of authenticity seeing as it was overly welcoming and tourist-oriented. Steven, the night before, had told us about the cattle raids that still go on between tribes and now that guns were being imported from Ethiopia and Somalia they had gotten much more dangerous. While at the village, I asked one of the Samburu if their village was a target for cattle raids. He told me it was and that they were ready with spears and swords. Alan asked him, “Well, what if they come with guns?” To which the Samburu man responded, “Oh, well then we call the military police.”

The next day we left Samburu for Marsabit, an extinct volcano heavily forested on its upper slopes. We stopped for lunch alongside a very large crater where at the bottom we saw a village and a man herding his sheep along the side of the crater. From there we traveled through a national park that was heavily forested and took a pit-stop for drinks at a quiet get-away lodge on Lake Paradise. The lake got its name because it is literally no more that 15km from completely arid land that borders the Chalbi desert. Alongside the lake were baboons and water buffalo. We spent the night at a campsite just outside the park where we pitched tents. The next morning I woke up early and went for a run with Segeni and Alan. We ran up to the park-gates and back, through the town. As we ran back, a bunch of school children on their way to school started running behind or alongside us. We had breakfast, broke down our campsite, and left to travel through the Chalbi desert to the town of Kalacha.

Kalacha is a small town just boarding the Chalbi desert, primarily run and funded by missionaries. When we arrived we pitched out tents and went strait to the swimming pool…or rather the half water tank. After lunch we walked to a nearby church that had a lot of paintings inside that are similar to those found in Ethiopia. It was interesting seeing, within a church, depictions of Jesus as black. The bus picked us up right outside the church and drove us back out to the desert to watch the sunset.

We left the next morning headed to Lake Turkana. It was a long and arduous drive, but simply amazing once we arrived. We pulled up to the shores of the lake to see several traditional huts right on the beach that we would be staying in for the next two nights. As lunch was being prepared, a couple of us walked along the rocks on the shore where around the bend we saw two naked kids jumping on the rocks. We walked toward them and saw a village close by. We went up to talk to the kids, but they did not speak any Kiswahili or English. They were very interested in my sunglasses though because they could see their reflection in them. They would look at them, then start cracking up laughing. Some of the village elders came down after seeing us, but even with them we were lost in translation. There was a lot of attempts at non-verbal communication, smiling, laughing, and shaking hands. We went back for lunch then went to an actual swimming pool for several hours. I cannot even describe how hot it was – you could not possibly drink enough water or wear enough sunscreen. It really cooled down, though, in the evening due to the very strong winds.

The next day we went on a boat ride on Lake Turkana out to an El Molo village. The village, along with a very nice school building, had before been inland and we had passed it on our way the day before. But the village was raided several months ago by another tribe and several people, including several children, were killed. After that event, they moved their village to this island where it would be much harder for them to be attacked. The El Molo are a tribe whose main economic function is fishing rather than cattle – as many of the tribes in northern Kenya rely on. They showed us around their village, which smelled awful due to the fish, but was very interesting. After we returned we went back, first of all we saw a crocodile in the lake just by our campsite. Oh and I forgot to mention that Lake Turkana is infested with crocodiles, spiders, scorpions, and we saw two mongooses. So anyways, after returning from the boat ride we went back to the pool and then returned to the campsite to go up and see a group of Turkana people perform traditional dancing with the sunset over the lake as the backdrop. We all got pulled in to do the dancing with them – one of which was a game where you are jumping up in down but the objective is to trip the other people and if you fall you owe the other person a goat. Later that night a few of us were sitting in the open-air “dining hall” hut drinking Tusker (Kenyan beer) and chatting. Segeni called in one of the village elders that was dancing that night who was a fortune teller. For 100 shillings each, he would answer our questions by spitting on his sandals, banging them on the ground, and then throwing them down to see how they land. First of all, they guy had to have been drunk because when we saw him he was carrying three empty Tucker bottles. It was funny, until he got to me. Apparently, I won’t find love in Kenya, or ever. I won’t return to Kenya ever. And when I asked him if I were an animal which animal I would be, he asked all the animals and they all turned me down. But everybody else got a kick out of my misfortune.

The next morning we left Turkana early for two days of driving back to Nairobi. About 30 minutes into our trip the bust abruptly stopped and all I could hear was a bunch of shouting. The only word I could translate from Kiswahili was “Pesa! Pesa! Pesa!” – “Money, Money, Money”. Out front window I saw one of the guys that were sitting in the cab run to the other side of the bus with his hands in the air. I moved the cloth I had earlier put over my window to shade from the sun and saw a man in a red shirt jumping up and down on a rock shouting what translated to “Remove the Money!” Kwell, our cook, climbed into our part of the bus and asked us all to take out just a few hundred shillings each to give to them. After getting the money all of our staff that was outside jumped into the truck and we drove off. As we pulled away I saw the man squatting next to a rock on the road aiming a large rifle at our bus. We couldn’t call the police because the nearest cell service was at least three hours away and the nearest town was about 2 hours away. We stopped in the town of South Horr to report the incident to the police. This was the first time Game Trackers (our safari company) had ever had an incident like this and the police were also very shocked that something like this would happen in Turkana. After the incident was reported and went out on the police radios we all got together and sat in a circle to talk about the incident and going forward. We stopped by 2 more police stations on the way to Maralal, where our campsite was for the evening. At the final police station they were like, “Why are you reporting this to us? That’s not Kenya up there,” which goes to show that that area really is the forgotten land. Victor joked, “You’re right, it’s Afghanistan!”

The next morning we departed for Nairobi and were accompanied by two armed military police, one in the cab and one in the back. Their accompaniment was not solely based on the incident, but also due to the large number of cattle raids that had been happening in the region amongst the 3 primary tribes. We dropped them off about 4 hours into the trip in a small little town (I have no idea how they got back to Maralal considering a 4 hour taxi ride back on those roads is kind of a joke). I talked to one of them during one of our potty-breaks and he told me that he had worked in several places including Nairobi and that up North it is much harder work than in Nairobi.

As we pulled up to Nairobi, it was very strange seeing matatus on the road and city life again (considering we hadn’t seen another car for the last week). Walking into our apartment was like walking into a four-star hotel. It was a heck of a week, full of adventure and so much diversity: city to villages; desert to forested areas and waterfalls; government funded projects to strictly missionary funded projects. It really impressed upon me how diverse Kenya is and the development challenges that this creates.

I literally have 377 pictures from the week, but I picked a few (which is still a lot) to put online. Check them out here.