Sunday, November 23, 2008
Sombre République Démocratique du Congo
La situation s'assombrit dans les provinces de l'Est du Congo, les Kivus. Des milliers de déplacés n'ont plus de foyer. Les conflits reprennent de plus belle, malgré la résolution de l'ONU. Tant que les richesses minières seront exploitées, autant l'instabilité sera nourrie dans la région par toutes les factions, nourries par l'appétit occidental des minerais, du coltan pour l'électronique, des diamants. On parle maintenant d'une génération au complet qui a grandi dans les Grands Lacs sous guerres et génocides.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
American Exodus
(sent by an American-Canadian friend of mine, quite hilarious!)
-BREAKING NEWS----“U.S. EXODUS”
From the MANITOBA HERALD, Canada
A flood of American liberals sneaking across the border into Canada has intensified in the past week, sparking calls for increased patrols to stop the illegal immigration. The possibility of a McCain/Palin election is prompting the exodus among left-leaning citizens who fear they'll soon be required to hunt, pray, and agree with Bill O'Reilly.
Canadian border farmers say it's not uncommon to see dozens of sociology professors, animal rights activists and Unitarians crossing their fields at night.
"I went out to milk the cows the other day, and there was a Hollywood producer huddled in the barn," said Manitoba farmer Red Greenfield, whose acreage borders North Dakota. The producer was cold, exhausted and hungry. He asked me if I could spare a latte and some free-range chicken. When I said I didn't have any, he left. Didn't even get a chance to show him my screenplay, eh?
In an effort to stop the illegal aliens, Greenfield erected higher fences, but the liberals scaled them. So he tried installing speakers that blare Rush Limbaugh across the fields. "Not real effective," he said. "The liberals still got through, and Rush annoyed the cows so much they wouldn't give milk."
Officials are particularly concerned about smugglers who meet liberals near the Canadian border, pack them into Volvo station wagons, drive them across the border and leave them to fend for themselves. "A lot of these people are not prepared for rugged conditions," an Ontario border patrolman said. "I found one carload without a drop of drinking water.
"They did have a nice little Napa Valley cabernet, though."
When liberals are caught, they're sent back across the border, often wailing loudly that they fear retribution from conservatives. Rumors have been circulating about the McCain administration establishing re-education camps in which liberals will be forced to shoot wolves from airplanes, deny evolution, and act out drills preparing them for the Rapture.
In recent days, liberals have turned to sometimes-ingenious ways of crossing the border. Some have taken to posing as senior citizens on bus trips to buy cheap Canadian prescription drugs. After catching a half-dozen young vegans disguised in powdered wigs, Canadian immigration authorities began stopping buses and quizzing the supposed senior-citizen passengers on Perry Como and Rosemary Clooney hits to prove they were alive in the '50s.
"If they can't identify the accordion player on The Lawrence Welk Show, we get suspicious about their age," an official said.
Canadian citizens have complained that the illegal immigrants are creating an organic-broccoli shortage and renting all the good Susan Sarandon movies.
"I feel sorry for American liberals, but the Canadian economy just can't support them," an Ottawa resident said. "How many art-history and English majors does one country need, Eh?
-BREAKING NEWS----“U.S. EXODUS”
From the MANITOBA HERALD, Canada
A flood of American liberals sneaking across the border into Canada has intensified in the past week, sparking calls for increased patrols to stop the illegal immigration. The possibility of a McCain/Palin election is prompting the exodus among left-leaning citizens who fear they'll soon be required to hunt, pray, and agree with Bill O'Reilly.
Canadian border farmers say it's not uncommon to see dozens of sociology professors, animal rights activists and Unitarians crossing their fields at night.
"I went out to milk the cows the other day, and there was a Hollywood producer huddled in the barn," said Manitoba farmer Red Greenfield, whose acreage borders North Dakota. The producer was cold, exhausted and hungry. He asked me if I could spare a latte and some free-range chicken. When I said I didn't have any, he left. Didn't even get a chance to show him my screenplay, eh?
In an effort to stop the illegal aliens, Greenfield erected higher fences, but the liberals scaled them. So he tried installing speakers that blare Rush Limbaugh across the fields. "Not real effective," he said. "The liberals still got through, and Rush annoyed the cows so much they wouldn't give milk."
Officials are particularly concerned about smugglers who meet liberals near the Canadian border, pack them into Volvo station wagons, drive them across the border and leave them to fend for themselves. "A lot of these people are not prepared for rugged conditions," an Ontario border patrolman said. "I found one carload without a drop of drinking water.
"They did have a nice little Napa Valley cabernet, though."
When liberals are caught, they're sent back across the border, often wailing loudly that they fear retribution from conservatives. Rumors have been circulating about the McCain administration establishing re-education camps in which liberals will be forced to shoot wolves from airplanes, deny evolution, and act out drills preparing them for the Rapture.
In recent days, liberals have turned to sometimes-ingenious ways of crossing the border. Some have taken to posing as senior citizens on bus trips to buy cheap Canadian prescription drugs. After catching a half-dozen young vegans disguised in powdered wigs, Canadian immigration authorities began stopping buses and quizzing the supposed senior-citizen passengers on Perry Como and Rosemary Clooney hits to prove they were alive in the '50s.
"If they can't identify the accordion player on The Lawrence Welk Show, we get suspicious about their age," an official said.
Canadian citizens have complained that the illegal immigrants are creating an organic-broccoli shortage and renting all the good Susan Sarandon movies.
"I feel sorry for American liberals, but the Canadian economy just can't support them," an Ottawa resident said. "How many art-history and English majors does one country need, Eh?
Monday, September 29, 2008
Hanoi et son art
Thirty-three must be the age at which one realizes that art can an investment... S was my age when he stated the above the last time we met in his hometown of Amsterdam, a half decade ago. I didn't understand it quite yet at the time. But his words reverberated through the years and now speak to me.
My Hanoi roots somehow come through at this point in my life. The art in this city - I find it vibrating and appeasing to my mixed roots. After all, my ancestry lies here, on Hang Bong Street, with the textile merchants and the mandarins, who knows... This city, although as dynamic and energetic as Bangkok or Saigon, superimposes an aura of culture and intellectualism that resonate with me. Ancestors? Previous life? Who knows. It just seems so deeply familiar.
Thavibu Gallery on the anthropology of Vietnamese art.
Galleries in Hanoi:
- Hanoi Art Gallery
- The gorgeous Apricot Gallery, with a painting of monks quoted at 10 000 USD!
- and its little sister Thanh Mai Gallery where I purchased my wintery Vietnamese painting. White is the colour of death in Vietnamese traditions, but to Westerners, it is peace. What is the significance then of this white appeasing wintery painting, from a young Vietnamese painter who has never seen snow?
- The Tonkin Gallery, mentioned in this article, is where I bought my very own genuine Dinh Quan lacquer. Poor Dinh Quan seems lost in a mass production of curvaceous if not generic women in áo dài which must sell well to wealthy foreigners. It is a shame, because I like his much more abstract lacquers. I couldn't understand why he was so well known outside of Vietnam and was the most well known current modern lacquer artist with exhibitions in many other countries - until I saw his non áo dài works, much more interesting. The girl I got, contrary to his luscious women in áo dài and his curvy nudes, is all ethereal and symbolic - quite a reflection, really... More on Dinh Quan here, at the Thavibu Gallery in Bangkok.
- Green Palm Gallery, also very nice, with two sites here on Hang Bong street.
- Mai Gallery which I didn't get to visit, but which is historical - and right around the corner.
- Viet Fine Arts Gallery with an inactive website, by Nha Tho.
- And Café Lam, which I didn't get to see, and was probably staying next to, the last time I was here, in 2004. Lam was one of the first art collectors in Hanoi and gathered a great number of paintings including those of Bùi Xuân Phái, the (now) most reknowned Vietnamese painter who died in poverty in 1988, before the country opened up to foreigners.
An article in the New York Times of last year comments on the art scene in Hanoi.
* * *
En me promenant ici, je ne cesse de songer à ma famille et ses racines d'ici, la manière d'être et les principes de ma mère, et je vois les similitudes avec la nature de Hanoi. Les 36 rues historiques, l'ancienne maison familiale de mon grand-père marchand de coton sur la rue Hang Bong, juste au coin, et ce que je lis des perceptions occidentales de la ville - une richesse culturelle, une austérité mandarine, une des villes les plus secrètement intellectuelle et cultivées d'Asie du Sud Ouest. Mes racines sont ici, des générations de marchands de coton et de mandarins. Même si l'art de Hanoi a pour public et mécènes une majorité d'occidentaux, il dénote une culture et un sens de vivre profondément ancrés dans les austères gens du Nord-Vietnam. Même les poèmes de prison de Bác Hồ Chí Minh dénotent une rigueur intellectuelle reconnue des người Bắc.
Je cherche du phở, du bun cha ca, du banh cuon, du bun bo. L'organicité de la ville, ses odeurs, le fait que traverser la rue est un sport et requiert des nerfs d'acier, tout cela m'inspire. Les gens assis le soir à savourer de la Bia hoi et des grillades de rue, la nonchalance des jeunes d'ici, le choc des traditions - tout cela résonne en moi.
Contrairement à il y a quatre ans, les gens sont maintenant habitués à voir des Viet Kieu revenir ici et maintenant on louange mon vietnamien pourtant massacré. Je vois pourtant aussi les racines chinoises de ces vietnamiens tapageurs et marchands, bien moins innocents et simples que les laotiens de Luang Prabang. Je m'attendais à ce que la ville soit plus développée mais rien n'a vraiment changé dans le Vieux Hanoi - peut-être que le gouvernement a compris qu'il fallait préserver son aspect historique. Je me vois revenir ici à Hanoi, peut-être pour explorer encore ses rues historiques, ses vieux temples et ses galleries d'art.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Triage
James Orbinski was a founding member of MSF-Canada in 1990 and the president of Médecins Sans Frontières international council from 1998 to 2001. He went to the podium on behalf of MSF for the Nobel Prize for Peace in 1999. He was on mission through the Somalia disarray and Rwandan genocide in the 90's. He has now his own NGO called Dignitas.
He now has an NFB movie called Triage - see here. Unfortunately no screening in Montreal yet - will have to wait for the NFB to edit it in DVD.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Ce qu'il reste de nous
Le documentaire d'un ami et collègue du Nord, François Prévost, sorti en 2004, vient nouvellement d'être édité en format DVD le 7 août 2008 à l'intention du grand public. Il s'intitule Ce qu'il reste de nous et rapporte les témoignages de Tibétains qui entendent pour la première fois depuis des décennies un message filmé du Dalai Lama.
Article du magazine Voir sur la sortie du film la semaine dernière - implicitement en même temps que le début des Jeux Olympiques de Beijing.
Données de l'ONF sur le film. Synopsis et entrevues ici.
NB: Entretemps, François a participé au projet Sedna sur un voilier pendant douze mois en 2005-2006 dans l'Antarctique et continue de pratiquer la médecine au Nunavik. Le projet Sedna est maintenant sous format documentaire sorti en salle en décembre 2007 (j'ai manqué ça!) intitulé Le Dernier Continent. Bravo François!!!
Article du magazine Voir sur la sortie du film la semaine dernière - implicitement en même temps que le début des Jeux Olympiques de Beijing.
Données de l'ONF sur le film. Synopsis et entrevues ici.
NB: Entretemps, François a participé au projet Sedna sur un voilier pendant douze mois en 2005-2006 dans l'Antarctique et continue de pratiquer la médecine au Nunavik. Le projet Sedna est maintenant sous format documentaire sorti en salle en décembre 2007 (j'ai manqué ça!) intitulé Le Dernier Continent. Bravo François!!!
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Radiohead, prise 3 en 2008
Finally Radiohead makes it to Montreal!
Depuis mes billets achetés depuis la... France en juin, Montréal, première date canadienne de leur tournée nord-américaine.
Après deux concerts à Nîmes en juin, j'étais entraînée. Arriver tôt, se mettre en ligne, prévoir boire juste assez pour ne pas avoir à aller aux toilettes, et mettre de bons souliers pour pouvoir rester debout presque dix heures d'affilée. Une 'salle' complètement différente de Nîmes, un grand parc transformée en étang de boue, et (je ne l'ai appris que le lendemain), près de 35 000 personnes, vs 16 000 aux Arènes de Nîmes. Au soundcheck et qui ont disparu par la suite: Myxomatosis, Go Slowly. Qui sont restées: L'habituelle Arpeggi/Weird Fishes - qui reste une de mes préférées - et, surprise! Like Spinning Plates.
Seule, et maintenant avec l'expertise apprise de L en France, j'ai pu me faufiler sur la gauche du premier rang. Qu'est-ce qu'il a plu vers les 17h! On avait tous l'air de poussins mouillés, les enthousiastes tôt arrivés, et mon poncho jaune m'a bien servie. Cette fois-ci, pas aussi près d'Ed qu'à Nîmes, mais quand même... non négligeable. Ma soeur m'a rejointe vers les 18h, chanceuse, sa place très bien gardée!
Quelques vidéos rigolos ici:
Faust Arp and Fireworks! (Thom qui foire, distrait par la finales des feux d'artifice, juste à côté, et qui pouffe de rire, et qui se reprend en disant 'Fireworks' à la place de 'Duplicate')
Paranoid Android: Rain down and fireworks next door...
Mes photos ici et ici
Setlist (cf Ateaseweb.com)
01. 15 Steps
02. There There (Thom “Sorry about the rain, it follows us around”)
03. Morning Bell
04. All I Need
05. My Iron Lung
06. Nude
07. Weird Fishes/Arpeggi
08. The Gloaming
09. The National Anthem (Fireworks going off)
10. Reckoner
11. Like Spinning Plates
12. Jigsaw (Thom: "If you’re feeling cold you can always grab someone next to you." Then Phil went to hug Colin.)
13. Lucky
14. Optimistic
15. Idioteque
16. Bodysnatchers
Encore 1
17. Faust Arp
18. Videotape (Thom: “There’s always money for fireworks, the least they could do is put them at the fucking end.”)
19. Paranoid Android
20. Bangers and Mash
21. Karma Police
Encore 2
22. House of Cards
23. You And Whose Army?
24. Everything In Its Right Place
Y'en avait, d'la bouette!!!
On a essayé de prendre le métro et comme je tenais à rester jusqu'à la fin, impossible de quitter le site à temps. Finalement, découragées par la foule parfaitement immobile à l'entrée de la station Ile Ste Hélène, on est parties à pied traverser le pont Jacques-Cartier. Prochaine fois: en vélo!
La Presse le lendemain, ici et là, et leur galerie de photos. (Était-ce le photographe au sac L.L.Lozeau qui passa devant nous?)
Rétrospective: Colin Greenwood sur Montréal ici dans un entretien avec The Gazette.
Depuis mes billets achetés depuis la... France en juin, Montréal, première date canadienne de leur tournée nord-américaine.
Après deux concerts à Nîmes en juin, j'étais entraînée. Arriver tôt, se mettre en ligne, prévoir boire juste assez pour ne pas avoir à aller aux toilettes, et mettre de bons souliers pour pouvoir rester debout presque dix heures d'affilée. Une 'salle' complètement différente de Nîmes, un grand parc transformée en étang de boue, et (je ne l'ai appris que le lendemain), près de 35 000 personnes, vs 16 000 aux Arènes de Nîmes. Au soundcheck et qui ont disparu par la suite: Myxomatosis, Go Slowly. Qui sont restées: L'habituelle Arpeggi/Weird Fishes - qui reste une de mes préférées - et, surprise! Like Spinning Plates.
Seule, et maintenant avec l'expertise apprise de L en France, j'ai pu me faufiler sur la gauche du premier rang. Qu'est-ce qu'il a plu vers les 17h! On avait tous l'air de poussins mouillés, les enthousiastes tôt arrivés, et mon poncho jaune m'a bien servie. Cette fois-ci, pas aussi près d'Ed qu'à Nîmes, mais quand même... non négligeable. Ma soeur m'a rejointe vers les 18h, chanceuse, sa place très bien gardée!
Quelques vidéos rigolos ici:
Faust Arp and Fireworks! (Thom qui foire, distrait par la finales des feux d'artifice, juste à côté, et qui pouffe de rire, et qui se reprend en disant 'Fireworks' à la place de 'Duplicate')
Paranoid Android: Rain down and fireworks next door...
Mes photos ici et ici
Setlist (cf Ateaseweb.com)
01. 15 Steps
02. There There (Thom “Sorry about the rain, it follows us around”)
03. Morning Bell
04. All I Need
05. My Iron Lung
06. Nude
07. Weird Fishes/Arpeggi
08. The Gloaming
09. The National Anthem (Fireworks going off)
10. Reckoner
11. Like Spinning Plates
12. Jigsaw (Thom: "If you’re feeling cold you can always grab someone next to you." Then Phil went to hug Colin.)
13. Lucky
14. Optimistic
15. Idioteque
16. Bodysnatchers
Encore 1
17. Faust Arp
18. Videotape (Thom: “There’s always money for fireworks, the least they could do is put them at the fucking end.”)
19. Paranoid Android
20. Bangers and Mash
21. Karma Police
Encore 2
22. House of Cards
23. You And Whose Army?
24. Everything In Its Right Place
Y'en avait, d'la bouette!!!
On a essayé de prendre le métro et comme je tenais à rester jusqu'à la fin, impossible de quitter le site à temps. Finalement, découragées par la foule parfaitement immobile à l'entrée de la station Ile Ste Hélène, on est parties à pied traverser le pont Jacques-Cartier. Prochaine fois: en vélo!
La Presse le lendemain, ici et là, et leur galerie de photos. (Était-ce le photographe au sac L.L.Lozeau qui passa devant nous?)
Rétrospective: Colin Greenwood sur Montréal ici dans un entretien avec The Gazette.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Radiohead aux Arènes de Nîmes, 14 et 15 juin 2008
Tel que prévu depuis le mois de janvier dans le petit village introuvable de Shamwana au Congo, deux inconditionnels de Radiohead avaient décidé de se trouver à Nîmes pour le concert du groupe éternel.
J'ai revu L à Toulouse après avoir laissé A&M la veille. On a fait la route vers Nîmes et j'ai dit au revoir à Toulouse, que de bons souvenirs.
Pour Radiohead, L était bien entraîné. Il avait fait Dublin et Bercy-Paris avant les deux jours à Nîmes. Il savait se pointer vers les midi trente pour se mettre en ligne, baguettes et bouteilles d'eau à la main, et ensuite, avait maîtrisé l'art de se dénicher une place au premier rang.
Le 14 juin, on était trois. L'attente depuis 13h s'est faite sous un soleil de plomb, devant les Arènes de Nîmes. On a eu droit à un soundcheck qui nous annonçait Arpeggi et Talk Show Host (!). Malheureusement à la barrière, on a été séparés, et on s'est rendu compte qu'il y avait des billets plus chers dans les meilleurs sections assises. Ce qui fait qu'on s'est retrouvés dans les gradins assez haut. Mais les Arènes étant ce qu'elles sont (environ 15000 personnes et 2000 ans de solidité et d'acoustique mises à l'épreuve), le son était excellent où que nous soyions, et on avait vue superbe sur la scène et ses éclairages psychédéliques.
Blog sur Ateaseweb sur comment c'était - incluant setlist complet.
Vue des Arènes, une fois assis dans les gradins.
On est repartis à pied, et avons profité de l'hospitalité des parents d'un ami à L habitant sur Nîmes. Le 15 juin, ce n'était que L et moi, les infatigables. Cette fois ci, il pleuvait, et une agréable fraîcheur a allégé nos heures d'attentes passées à se donner des nouvelles de la fin de mission au Congo. L a fermement maîtrisé l'art de se précipiter pour être premier à la scène, et il a réussi à obtenir de bonnes places sur la gauche de la scène, à environ 3 mètres d'Ed O'Brien, devant nous pendant tout le show.
Quelques photos ici sur Facebook
Quelques vidéos (la sécurité ne laissait pas trop filmer du premier rang!):
15 steps
Airbag
Arpeggi/Weird Fishes
Ateaseweb sur le 15 juin
Radiohead.fr sur le 15 juin - très belles photos.
J'ai revu L à Toulouse après avoir laissé A&M la veille. On a fait la route vers Nîmes et j'ai dit au revoir à Toulouse, que de bons souvenirs.
Pour Radiohead, L était bien entraîné. Il avait fait Dublin et Bercy-Paris avant les deux jours à Nîmes. Il savait se pointer vers les midi trente pour se mettre en ligne, baguettes et bouteilles d'eau à la main, et ensuite, avait maîtrisé l'art de se dénicher une place au premier rang.
Le 14 juin, on était trois. L'attente depuis 13h s'est faite sous un soleil de plomb, devant les Arènes de Nîmes. On a eu droit à un soundcheck qui nous annonçait Arpeggi et Talk Show Host (!). Malheureusement à la barrière, on a été séparés, et on s'est rendu compte qu'il y avait des billets plus chers dans les meilleurs sections assises. Ce qui fait qu'on s'est retrouvés dans les gradins assez haut. Mais les Arènes étant ce qu'elles sont (environ 15000 personnes et 2000 ans de solidité et d'acoustique mises à l'épreuve), le son était excellent où que nous soyions, et on avait vue superbe sur la scène et ses éclairages psychédéliques.
Blog sur Ateaseweb sur comment c'était - incluant setlist complet.
Vue des Arènes, une fois assis dans les gradins.
On est repartis à pied, et avons profité de l'hospitalité des parents d'un ami à L habitant sur Nîmes. Le 15 juin, ce n'était que L et moi, les infatigables. Cette fois ci, il pleuvait, et une agréable fraîcheur a allégé nos heures d'attentes passées à se donner des nouvelles de la fin de mission au Congo. L a fermement maîtrisé l'art de se précipiter pour être premier à la scène, et il a réussi à obtenir de bonnes places sur la gauche de la scène, à environ 3 mètres d'Ed O'Brien, devant nous pendant tout le show.
Quelques photos ici sur Facebook
Quelques vidéos (la sécurité ne laissait pas trop filmer du premier rang!):
15 steps
Airbag
Arpeggi/Weird Fishes
Ateaseweb sur le 15 juin
Radiohead.fr sur le 15 juin - très belles photos.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
La Côte d'Azur et Toulouse en juin
So the stars were aligned for me to spend half of the month of June in France this year. I wanted to attend the Radiohead concert in Nîmes on June 14-15 as planned whilst in Congo, and then combined the trip with 1) reconnecting with an old, old friend from childhood and 2) meet up with newer, more recent friends from MSF.
Le premier week-end fut passé à reconnecter avec MC, l'amie d'enfance de 10 à 14 ans. Nous ne nous étions pas vues depuis plus de dix ans et c'est par le hasard organisé qu'on s'est retrouvées! Je serais allée voir MC où qu'elle ait été en France, mais ça donnait qu'elle habite à Biot, près d'Antibes, en pleine Côte d'Azur, une des plus jolies (mais aussi des plus touristiques) régions de France. Le paradis des amateurs de voile, de randonnée, de spéléologie, de canyoning et de plongée.
Les quelques jours passés avec MC ont été super, éparpillés entre la reconnection, de la monopalme à la piscine municipale d'Antibes sous le soleil de la Côte d'Azur (malgré MC qui se plaignait qu'il ne faisait pas beau!), bouffer des tonnes de fruits de mer, et quelques heures d'escalade sur l'Estérel et au Cap d'Ail vers Monaco. Je pensais pouvoir plonger mais l'horaire ne l'a pas permis. L'émerveillement de la reconnection, de savoir que la nature profonde des gens ne change pas vraiment, a vraiment illuminé ce voyage en France.
Vue de l'Estérel
Ensuite, je me suis dirigée vers Toulouse, traversant le Sud d'un bout à l'autre, pour retrouver A&M mes collègues de MSF, et ensuite L mon coéquipier sur Shamwana et co-fan de Radiohead. Cinq jours passés à Toulouse à faire du magasinage, flâner, bouffer et se donner des nouvelles du Congo. Un pur bonheur... et aussi une envie folle de repartir comme eux tous vers d'autres missions MSF...
Photos ici.
Le premier week-end fut passé à reconnecter avec MC, l'amie d'enfance de 10 à 14 ans. Nous ne nous étions pas vues depuis plus de dix ans et c'est par le hasard organisé qu'on s'est retrouvées! Je serais allée voir MC où qu'elle ait été en France, mais ça donnait qu'elle habite à Biot, près d'Antibes, en pleine Côte d'Azur, une des plus jolies (mais aussi des plus touristiques) régions de France. Le paradis des amateurs de voile, de randonnée, de spéléologie, de canyoning et de plongée.
Les quelques jours passés avec MC ont été super, éparpillés entre la reconnection, de la monopalme à la piscine municipale d'Antibes sous le soleil de la Côte d'Azur (malgré MC qui se plaignait qu'il ne faisait pas beau!), bouffer des tonnes de fruits de mer, et quelques heures d'escalade sur l'Estérel et au Cap d'Ail vers Monaco. Je pensais pouvoir plonger mais l'horaire ne l'a pas permis. L'émerveillement de la reconnection, de savoir que la nature profonde des gens ne change pas vraiment, a vraiment illuminé ce voyage en France.
Vue de l'Estérel
Ensuite, je me suis dirigée vers Toulouse, traversant le Sud d'un bout à l'autre, pour retrouver A&M mes collègues de MSF, et ensuite L mon coéquipier sur Shamwana et co-fan de Radiohead. Cinq jours passés à Toulouse à faire du magasinage, flâner, bouffer et se donner des nouvelles du Congo. Un pur bonheur... et aussi une envie folle de repartir comme eux tous vers d'autres missions MSF...
Photos ici.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Sunday, April 13, 2008
About the marula fruit
I wish we could see this on safari!
African animals getting drunk on the marula fruit, excerpt from Animals are Beautiful People
African animals getting drunk on the marula fruit, excerpt from Animals are Beautiful People
Monday, April 7, 2008
DRC and Shamwana on television on PBS !!!
Bill Moyers' Journal about humanitarian work in the Democratic Republic of the Congo aired on PBS April 4, 2008. It is now here on the PBS website.
They filmed us in Shamwana back in November, during the cholera outbreak in Kishale, amongst all other things. Very complete reportage. I'm featured at the beginning of part 2 (at about 25 minutes into the episode). Yup people, you're right, I speak waay too fast!!!
My correspondance from my first mission with Médecins Sans Frontières in Shamwana, Democratic Republic of Congo, is now posted as a blog and can be found here.
They filmed us in Shamwana back in November, during the cholera outbreak in Kishale, amongst all other things. Very complete reportage. I'm featured at the beginning of part 2 (at about 25 minutes into the episode). Yup people, you're right, I speak waay too fast!!!
My correspondance from my first mission with Médecins Sans Frontières in Shamwana, Democratic Republic of Congo, is now posted as a blog and can be found here.
Friday, April 4, 2008
The Big Wilderness again - Tsavo East National Park
Tsavo National Park in Kenya is surrounded by semi-desert and is larger than Israel, or is twice the size of Belgium. It is well known for its red and black elephants – ordinary African elephants that roll in the dust thus taking the colour of the land, and the Tsavo maneless man-eater lions depicted in the movie The Ghost and the Darkness. I stayed at luxurious Satao lodge camp through Southern Cross Safaris, under a tent but with full amenities, while impalas and baboons were roaming freely in the camp.
Given the absence of tourists, I had a car and guide all to myself – my travel companions were a British family with young children who had paid for a private supplement so I ended up alone in a car! Clearly, by now, Kenya was safe as some more informed people were willing to travel with their families.
Tsavo red earth
The famous red elephants – this is an old bull, at least forty years old
Common zebras
Oryxes
Secretary bird – named at the time when secretaries stuck quills in their wigs, two centuries ago.
Giraffes – the Maasai subspecies
A lazy pride of lions lying in the sun – and a cute curious cub. No man-eating here!
The fastest animal on the planet – well, it was quite lazy, lying under a tree and behaving like the lazy cat that it is. Three cheetahs were hanging out at Aruba lodge and I got great footage of them stretching and yawning. Cheetahs can run up at a speed of up to 110 km/hr, but only for three minutes or so.
The fastest bird on the planet. Male ostriches are the pretty pink and black whereas the females are a dull brown.
Beautiful Tsavo scenery
Baboons climbing up the electric poles to spend the night on higher ground - the park has an electric line bringing hydroelectricity to Mombasa.
Eating BBQ - all alone :)
Overall, this safari was different from Kruger - more scenic, less animal density but different kinds of antelopes (one was called Dik-Dik, very funny!) and of course, cheetahs, which were great.
A clandestine week in Mombasa, Kenya
After careful consideration and an enlightened opinion from my host, I decided two weeks ago to go ahead with the plans of visiting my friend Susan G from medical school in Mombasa, Kenya, for a week before going to Amsterdam.
Before the tumultuous elections of December 2007, Kenya was considered the Bright Star of Africa – a stable country with a growing economy based on agricultural exports (coffee, fruits and flowers) and tourism. Susan had introduced me to Africa back in medical school in 1998 as she put in contact with my first rotation out here in Cameroun at the time – where she had lived for two years as a Peace Corps volunteer. Now she is a specialist in Infectious Diseases and has been living here in Mombasa since 2004, conducting a clinical research project on HIV risk factors, transmission and treatment outcome on a cohort of sex workers. She shares her time between Toronto where her husband lives and where she is completing a Ph.D, Seattle where her clinical practice is, and Mombasa where she conducts her research.
Back in January, the elections brought about a few riots in Nairobi and displaced people remain in the North of the country. However, since the power-sharing between mediated by Koffi Annan, things in Nairobi and here on the coast are fully back to normal - except for the sore lack of tourists out here in Mombasa. All chartered flights had been cancelled for the spring of this year. However, by now, all countries have lifted their travel advisories to the Kenyan coast.
Arriving late on Saturday, I went into full resort mode at the White Sands hotel, still sore from the Kili climb. Given as I’d dragged my scuba gear all the way, I found an excuse to go diving into the Indian Ocean on Sunday with Buccaneer Diving on the MV Dania, a wreck at 30 meters. The Danish and Dutch navies were in town, accompanying World Food Programme ships to be unloaded to Somalia, and the Danes were on my boat, doing their Advanced class. The wreck was pretty although a strong surface current made the dive a little challenging: lots of jacks, a huge honeycomb moray eel, a huge round stingray and a friendly grouper. The second dive was conducted at shallow Bamburi Coral Garden where I happily snorkelled for an hour while the guys were doing their orientation underwater. Monday was spent at the spa trying out Ayurvedic treatments (honey-perfumed oil in hair... strange but nice)
Susan picked me up on Monday evening and Tuesday, I visited one of the clinics where she works – they do HIV screening there. Her population consists mostly of 'working ladies', as she likes to say :)
And I toured Mombasa and its Old Town, which is a little decrepit. Mombasa is nonetheless one of the continent’s oldest cities, with a long history of colonization by both the Arab world and the Europeans, and part of the Swahili island-cities of the Middle Ages ruled by the Sultan of Oman. Fort Jesus, a Portugese-built Fort dating from the 13th century, was passed between the Portuguese and the Arabs until the British took over in the 1700’s.
View of the old harbour from Fort Jesus
Wednesday and Thursday were spent on safari at Tsavo East National park, Kenya’s largest national park. See next post for photos and blurb.
In Mombasa, I got to meet Susan’s crew of expats, some in the shipping business, others in diplomacy or the like. We went out to eat every evening, to make up for the food deprivation in Shamwana (boiled potatoes and tomatoes! For weeks! Argh!), we toured all the best restaurants on Mombasa’s North Shore ie. Nyali Beach: we had amazing sushi, amazing Indian food, and amazing mangrove crab at the Tamarind, complete with a glass of champagne over the harbour. It was just lovely!
Last night at the Tamarind, Susan and I poring over crab:
And today, Friday, I will say goodbye to Africa to board the plane for Amsterdam. I am writing you from the Nyali Beach Hotel, currently empty – I just finished swimming lapses for an hour alone in the pool, and walked on the white fine sand beach.
What I'm leaving in an hour!
Congolaisement Vôtre
Friday, March 28, 2008
Mount Kilimanjaro climb: day 5
Friday, March 28 - Final descent - from Horombo Hut back to Marangu Hotel
After the best night's sleep ever, we woke up for our final day of the Kilimanjaro Marangu Route. Today, we were to cover the path covered in days 1 and 2 downwards.
We packed our wet mess - here's Jenni diving with her headlamp into her bag for her stuff:
Our clothes had barely dried and the room at Horombo was a mess!
Group shot at Horombo Hut. Melissa was feeling better, although her upset stomach stopped her from the final ascent the day prior.
At Horombo Hut, there was a girl who got severe altitude sickness after reaching the top and had to be carried down with porters. They do this by wrapping you in a sleeping bag, then rolling you down the hill in these one-wheeled wheelbarrows:
The rain had made everything muddy, and as regularly as the previous days, it started raining at around 10 am.
The walk down was slippery. My Montreal habits of walking in 'd'la sloshe' must have been helpful as this was much easier for me than the scramble down the scree hill the previous day. The walk was rather uneventful - aside from getting wetter and wetter, but thankfully the poncho came in handy.
At the gates of the park we all had a Kilimanjaro Beer and posed for a good picture.
Everyone was tired but happy. It had been an unforgettable five days and a beautiful experience, in spite of some stomach troubles, lots of rain and cold, and much sneezing for me. So what is harder, Kendra, Kili climb or marathon? ... she answered marathon. Probably the fact that it wasn't arctic temperatures helped. Kendra's blog around the world can be found here.
Very muddy shoes attesting to the four days of rain (out of five). Two important concepts to remember for the Kilimanjaro hike: rainproofness and gaiters!!!
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My porter, Rashid, who was always smiling and was waiting dutifully for me yesterday under the rain when I was last to come back to Horombo Hut completely shattered.
Thank you so much Tafaeli for "carrying us" to the top! (here with Georgie)
The certificates we get for summitting at Uhuru.
After the best night's sleep ever, we woke up for our final day of the Kilimanjaro Marangu Route. Today, we were to cover the path covered in days 1 and 2 downwards.
We packed our wet mess - here's Jenni diving with her headlamp into her bag for her stuff:
Our clothes had barely dried and the room at Horombo was a mess!
Group shot at Horombo Hut. Melissa was feeling better, although her upset stomach stopped her from the final ascent the day prior.
At Horombo Hut, there was a girl who got severe altitude sickness after reaching the top and had to be carried down with porters. They do this by wrapping you in a sleeping bag, then rolling you down the hill in these one-wheeled wheelbarrows:
The rain had made everything muddy, and as regularly as the previous days, it started raining at around 10 am.
The walk down was slippery. My Montreal habits of walking in 'd'la sloshe' must have been helpful as this was much easier for me than the scramble down the scree hill the previous day. The walk was rather uneventful - aside from getting wetter and wetter, but thankfully the poncho came in handy.
At the gates of the park we all had a Kilimanjaro Beer and posed for a good picture.
Everyone was tired but happy. It had been an unforgettable five days and a beautiful experience, in spite of some stomach troubles, lots of rain and cold, and much sneezing for me. So what is harder, Kendra, Kili climb or marathon? ... she answered marathon. Probably the fact that it wasn't arctic temperatures helped. Kendra's blog around the world can be found here.
Very muddy shoes attesting to the four days of rain (out of five). Two important concepts to remember for the Kilimanjaro hike: rainproofness and gaiters!!!
My porter, Rashid, who was always smiling and was waiting dutifully for me yesterday under the rain when I was last to come back to Horombo Hut completely shattered.
Thank you so much Tafaeli for "carrying us" to the top! (here with Georgie)
The certificates we get for summitting at Uhuru.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Mount Kilimanjaro climb: day 4
Thursday, March 27: The harrowing summitting day!
Day 4 was the day that we all dreaded. I assume we all did, I think most people were nervous about this day. We had gone to bed at 18h00 the evening prior, after setting up our winter equipment out to be ready for summitting. Although some people were snoring (it seemed to come from the Nordic corner *wink*), some barely slept, and Georgie did not sleep at all. I dozed off for four hours but then the Diamox kicked in and I had to @#$#$ get out of my warm sleeping bag to go to the outside loos at -1 Celsius, joy! Then it was impossible to go back to sleep.
Faithful Fataeli woke us up at midnight as planned. We got dressed, I put all the warmest layers that I had (6 of them). I had made up a pair of liner gloves to put inside my big ski gloves:
(they're socks :) )
We ventured outside to the light of our headlamps. The first part of the climb, right after Kibo Hut, is on scree - a mixture of snow and gravel - that zigzags across the hill. It's all done in the dark because the scree is less slippery when frozen. We were all lined up in queue, Tafaeli and the Nordic Boys in front, and the other four guides always checking on us. The pace was very slow - a few steps, break, a few steps, break.
Walking in queue in the dark (Mark, Jenni, Kendra are behind me)
In the darkness, and the slowness, I found the whole ordeal very hypnotic and felt like falling asleep, to the worry of one of the guides; little did he know that it is a normal state for me (being somnolent when bored) and that it was *not* altitude sickness or cold. Eventually we came to realize that we had completely overdressed for the climb as it was not - 10 Celsius but rather closer to 0 celsius, so a few of us took layers off. A few of us had grumbling stomachs because of the altitude; Melissa's cramping stomach made her lag behind and her headlamp light soon disappeared behind us.
We had the best warm tea ever, at the halfway break through the scree, and the Hans Meyer Cave:
(thanks Kendra for the pic)
Then the climb continued, hypnotically for me, to the rhythm of techno music for Kendra, who had been smart to bring her Ipod. It wasn't so difficult physically as it was hard to stay awake because of the repetitiveness of the task - everybody seemed to drift off into their own bubble. Mount Mawenzi was peeking out through the clouds in the moonlight right behind us, a very special view. The guides were singing softly to keep our attention. As predicted by Desmond, Tafaeli repeated his usual proverb to inspire us:
"Today is today, tomorrow is tomorrow..."
I was concentrating on every 50 cm ahead, one foot in front of the other, careful not to slip backwards. And then suddenly, we had to climb over rocks and small boulders - the boulder field, which precedes Gilman's point. I had no idea that we were there until we got to the crater rim.
We reached Gilman's point at 5685 m around 6h00 am, as the sun rose, after 6 hours of climbing in the night. The Kitkat bar I ate there is remembered as the best in my life.
(thanks Kendra for the pic)
We took another re-energizing tea break at Gilman's point; it's considered a successful summitting if one makes it there. But when Fataeli signalled to continue towards Uhuru Peak, we all followed him. I was feeling quite well and was happy to keep on going (vs. freezing in the cold wind). We could now see into the crater: it was like a lunar landscape, with the stars so close, incredibly high, above the clouds.
The next part of the climb would be along the rim, where could look into the snow-covered crater. It was a spectacular walk, in the permanent snowcap, the last climate found on the mountain. The guides were carefully assessing every single one of us for signs of altitude sickness - confusion, strange behaviour, shortness of breath, stomach problems, headache.
The snow and the crater in the blue sunrise light
Fantastic snowscapes above the clouds
(thanks Kendra for the pic)
Walking to Uhuru Peak was another 90 minutes and 200 m elevation. I was getting more and more tired, and a slight headache appeared. Then it got worse and I had to borrow some Diamox and acetaminophen pills from Georgie's bag, thankfully carried by Harold the guide right in front of me. Shortly after, at Harold's insistence and against the better part of my pride, I had to give up my daypack for Harold to carry as well.
(thanks Jenni for the pic)
Most of us acted okay, although a few stomachs were definitely off - but for sure the altitude had started to affect us. I felt slightly off, just as if under nitrogen narcosis - even though the arithmetics that I started doing in my head to check were okay so far. (MMSE of 29 at the time, I checked - but three word recall definitely slower!). A younger girl from another group was throwing up violently by the side of the path - and yet, she was such a trooper, she kept on going. When I finally made it to Uhuru Peak where I gave a thankful hug to Tafaeli and... capsized in the snow with the rest of the bunch.
(thanks Jenni for the pic)
A few moments after, I barely sat up to shoot this picture:
Whereas Mikael of the Nordic Team was much more motivated!
Note our blueish tinge - definitive hypoxia up there. Tafaeli's famous words: "You will make it to the summit, I carry you all!"
The obligatory Team Canada picture and group picture:
(thanks Kendra for both picx)
Georgie is probably one of the few who was able to mark her territory at the summit of Kilimanjaro *wink*.
After a few moments up there, we started the route down. Because, of course, summitting is only the first third of the day! The itinerary that day has us go down to Kibo Hut and then to Horombo Hut!
At the crater rim, Mark gave a us a bit of a scare with a sudden nasty headache, and had a blue tinge - signs of altitude sickness. He quickly went down, which was the thing to do, and was okay afterwards.
Walking down the scree hill, past the boulder field, was an adventure. Instead of zigzag-ing the way up, we slid down in the now soft earth-gravel mix down the hill - it was fun for the first 10 minutes, and then my toes started hurting from hitting the end of my shoes. I scrambled downhill on my bum more than once - and so were the guides. On the way down, Mount Mawenzi had disappeard completely behind some nasty rain clouds, and it started pouring. I was wet, cold and miserable with bruised toes when I reached Kibo Hut last, around 11h30 am. I remember looking down at Kibo Hut and genuinely wondering if I could 1) slide down on my bum or 2) get carried by a guide. I honestly had never been so physically tired and pushed myself to such limits - my legs were trembling. It's really like hitting a wall and wondering how you can make it through.It had been a harrowing 11h hours of hiking in difficult conditions - and yet the day wasn't over!
Walking-slipping down the scree
We finally arrived at Kibo Hut for a warm lunch (yay! hot soup!) and the most invigorating one-hour nap. Everybody passed out, this time. Then it was time to walk down to Horombo Hut. Initially my legs refused to obey, but somehow, by sheer will, we all got out and walked three more hours down to Horombo Hut. Again, the saddle plains were wet and foggy, and it rained and we were wet. Thankfully it wasn't as steep as in the morning, but still, my knees and toes were definitely protesting.
We made it back to Horombo Hut for the most restful night of sleep ever, after another warm dinner.
Day 4 was the day that we all dreaded. I assume we all did, I think most people were nervous about this day. We had gone to bed at 18h00 the evening prior, after setting up our winter equipment out to be ready for summitting. Although some people were snoring (it seemed to come from the Nordic corner *wink*), some barely slept, and Georgie did not sleep at all. I dozed off for four hours but then the Diamox kicked in and I had to @#$#$ get out of my warm sleeping bag to go to the outside loos at -1 Celsius, joy! Then it was impossible to go back to sleep.
Faithful Fataeli woke us up at midnight as planned. We got dressed, I put all the warmest layers that I had (6 of them). I had made up a pair of liner gloves to put inside my big ski gloves:
(they're socks :) )We ventured outside to the light of our headlamps. The first part of the climb, right after Kibo Hut, is on scree - a mixture of snow and gravel - that zigzags across the hill. It's all done in the dark because the scree is less slippery when frozen. We were all lined up in queue, Tafaeli and the Nordic Boys in front, and the other four guides always checking on us. The pace was very slow - a few steps, break, a few steps, break.
Walking in queue in the dark (Mark, Jenni, Kendra are behind me)
In the darkness, and the slowness, I found the whole ordeal very hypnotic and felt like falling asleep, to the worry of one of the guides; little did he know that it is a normal state for me (being somnolent when bored) and that it was *not* altitude sickness or cold. Eventually we came to realize that we had completely overdressed for the climb as it was not - 10 Celsius but rather closer to 0 celsius, so a few of us took layers off. A few of us had grumbling stomachs because of the altitude; Melissa's cramping stomach made her lag behind and her headlamp light soon disappeared behind us.
We had the best warm tea ever, at the halfway break through the scree, and the Hans Meyer Cave:
(thanks Kendra for the pic)Then the climb continued, hypnotically for me, to the rhythm of techno music for Kendra, who had been smart to bring her Ipod. It wasn't so difficult physically as it was hard to stay awake because of the repetitiveness of the task - everybody seemed to drift off into their own bubble. Mount Mawenzi was peeking out through the clouds in the moonlight right behind us, a very special view. The guides were singing softly to keep our attention. As predicted by Desmond, Tafaeli repeated his usual proverb to inspire us:
"Today is today, tomorrow is tomorrow..."
I was concentrating on every 50 cm ahead, one foot in front of the other, careful not to slip backwards. And then suddenly, we had to climb over rocks and small boulders - the boulder field, which precedes Gilman's point. I had no idea that we were there until we got to the crater rim.
We reached Gilman's point at 5685 m around 6h00 am, as the sun rose, after 6 hours of climbing in the night. The Kitkat bar I ate there is remembered as the best in my life.
(thanks Kendra for the pic)We took another re-energizing tea break at Gilman's point; it's considered a successful summitting if one makes it there. But when Fataeli signalled to continue towards Uhuru Peak, we all followed him. I was feeling quite well and was happy to keep on going (vs. freezing in the cold wind). We could now see into the crater: it was like a lunar landscape, with the stars so close, incredibly high, above the clouds.
The next part of the climb would be along the rim, where could look into the snow-covered crater. It was a spectacular walk, in the permanent snowcap, the last climate found on the mountain. The guides were carefully assessing every single one of us for signs of altitude sickness - confusion, strange behaviour, shortness of breath, stomach problems, headache.
The snow and the crater in the blue sunrise light
Fantastic snowscapes above the clouds
(thanks Kendra for the pic)
Walking to Uhuru Peak was another 90 minutes and 200 m elevation. I was getting more and more tired, and a slight headache appeared. Then it got worse and I had to borrow some Diamox and acetaminophen pills from Georgie's bag, thankfully carried by Harold the guide right in front of me. Shortly after, at Harold's insistence and against the better part of my pride, I had to give up my daypack for Harold to carry as well.
(thanks Jenni for the pic)Most of us acted okay, although a few stomachs were definitely off - but for sure the altitude had started to affect us. I felt slightly off, just as if under nitrogen narcosis - even though the arithmetics that I started doing in my head to check were okay so far. (MMSE of 29 at the time, I checked - but three word recall definitely slower!). A younger girl from another group was throwing up violently by the side of the path - and yet, she was such a trooper, she kept on going. When I finally made it to Uhuru Peak where I gave a thankful hug to Tafaeli and... capsized in the snow with the rest of the bunch.
(thanks Jenni for the pic)A few moments after, I barely sat up to shoot this picture:
Whereas Mikael of the Nordic Team was much more motivated!
Note our blueish tinge - definitive hypoxia up there. Tafaeli's famous words: "You will make it to the summit, I carry you all!"
The obligatory Team Canada picture and group picture:
(thanks Kendra for both picx)Georgie is probably one of the few who was able to mark her territory at the summit of Kilimanjaro *wink*.
After a few moments up there, we started the route down. Because, of course, summitting is only the first third of the day! The itinerary that day has us go down to Kibo Hut and then to Horombo Hut!
At the crater rim, Mark gave a us a bit of a scare with a sudden nasty headache, and had a blue tinge - signs of altitude sickness. He quickly went down, which was the thing to do, and was okay afterwards.
Walking down the scree hill, past the boulder field, was an adventure. Instead of zigzag-ing the way up, we slid down in the now soft earth-gravel mix down the hill - it was fun for the first 10 minutes, and then my toes started hurting from hitting the end of my shoes. I scrambled downhill on my bum more than once - and so were the guides. On the way down, Mount Mawenzi had disappeard completely behind some nasty rain clouds, and it started pouring. I was wet, cold and miserable with bruised toes when I reached Kibo Hut last, around 11h30 am. I remember looking down at Kibo Hut and genuinely wondering if I could 1) slide down on my bum or 2) get carried by a guide. I honestly had never been so physically tired and pushed myself to such limits - my legs were trembling. It's really like hitting a wall and wondering how you can make it through.It had been a harrowing 11h hours of hiking in difficult conditions - and yet the day wasn't over!
Walking-slipping down the scree
We finally arrived at Kibo Hut for a warm lunch (yay! hot soup!) and the most invigorating one-hour nap. Everybody passed out, this time. Then it was time to walk down to Horombo Hut. Initially my legs refused to obey, but somehow, by sheer will, we all got out and walked three more hours down to Horombo Hut. Again, the saddle plains were wet and foggy, and it rained and we were wet. Thankfully it wasn't as steep as in the morning, but still, my knees and toes were definitely protesting.
We made it back to Horombo Hut for the most restful night of sleep ever, after another warm dinner.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Mount Kilimanjaro climb: day 3
Wednesday, March 26 - Horombo Hut to Kibo Hut
The third day of the climb consisted of another five hour hike, getting us from alpine moorland at 3720 m to alpine desert at 4703 m. We woke up to the usual tea, to a wet day and to my repetitive sneezes - no cats here, so I was either allergic to the down in the sleeping bags, or to the dust in the huts. Sorry everybody!
The porters preceded us on the route:
(thanks Jenni for the pic)
Mount Kilimanjaro has three craters: Shira, flat Kibo which is our destination, where Uhuru Peak sits (and Gilman's at the crater rim), and 'craggy' Mawenzi at 5149m which is a technical climb. From Horombo Hut we could see Mount Mawenzi much higher than us:
(thanks Jenni for the pic)
The hike on the Upper Route took us on a steep first few hours of climb.
(thanks Georgie for the pic)
Then we reached 4000 m altitude at Zebra Rocks:
(thanks Kendra for the pic)
We were at the height of clouds, which would pass right into us, such as this one on Mick and Melissa:
(thanks Georgie for the pic)
Too bad cloud material is not as fluffy and soft as it looks, but rather, cold and wet!
The vegetation became more sparse as we climbed higher up. At the Saddle Plains, wind and rain welcomed us coldly. We hid behind a rock wall to have a fast lunch under the rain then continued to walk under the rain. Of course, this was the day where I packed my poncho in the big bag so had no access to it. Not so smart!
The Saddle Plains sit between Kibo and Mawenzi - Mawenzi was playing peak-a-boo with the clouds while we were rained on:
We finally arrived at Kibo Hut at 4703 m. By now, there were no plants left, not even tundra, at this altitude. This was alpine desert, the second-to-last climate on this climb - the last climate being, of course, the ice cap at the crater rim.
Indicating the route to come, once arrived at Kibo Hut:
Dinner at Kibo Hut was a cold affair - warm food and soup, that is, but we were freezing - we had to eat with our hats and mitts on!
(thanks Georgie for the pic)
To my additional sneezing bouts and a dry cough in the common dorm where we gathered after dinner, Tafaeli the chief guide gave me a concerned look and an 'Eh?', perhaps worried about pulmonary oedema, a sign of severe altitude sickness. I told him that it was allergies and would watch for it, but the fact that he was concerned definitely reassured me and reinforced the importance of having a good guide. We very much trusted him with our lives, after all.
The third day of the climb consisted of another five hour hike, getting us from alpine moorland at 3720 m to alpine desert at 4703 m. We woke up to the usual tea, to a wet day and to my repetitive sneezes - no cats here, so I was either allergic to the down in the sleeping bags, or to the dust in the huts. Sorry everybody!
The porters preceded us on the route:
(thanks Jenni for the pic)Mount Kilimanjaro has three craters: Shira, flat Kibo which is our destination, where Uhuru Peak sits (and Gilman's at the crater rim), and 'craggy' Mawenzi at 5149m which is a technical climb. From Horombo Hut we could see Mount Mawenzi much higher than us:
(thanks Jenni for the pic)The hike on the Upper Route took us on a steep first few hours of climb.
(thanks Georgie for the pic)Then we reached 4000 m altitude at Zebra Rocks:
(thanks Kendra for the pic)
We were at the height of clouds, which would pass right into us, such as this one on Mick and Melissa:
(thanks Georgie for the pic)Too bad cloud material is not as fluffy and soft as it looks, but rather, cold and wet!
The vegetation became more sparse as we climbed higher up. At the Saddle Plains, wind and rain welcomed us coldly. We hid behind a rock wall to have a fast lunch under the rain then continued to walk under the rain. Of course, this was the day where I packed my poncho in the big bag so had no access to it. Not so smart!
The Saddle Plains sit between Kibo and Mawenzi - Mawenzi was playing peak-a-boo with the clouds while we were rained on:
We finally arrived at Kibo Hut at 4703 m. By now, there were no plants left, not even tundra, at this altitude. This was alpine desert, the second-to-last climate on this climb - the last climate being, of course, the ice cap at the crater rim.
Indicating the route to come, once arrived at Kibo Hut:
Dinner at Kibo Hut was a cold affair - warm food and soup, that is, but we were freezing - we had to eat with our hats and mitts on!
(thanks Georgie for the pic)To my additional sneezing bouts and a dry cough in the common dorm where we gathered after dinner, Tafaeli the chief guide gave me a concerned look and an 'Eh?', perhaps worried about pulmonary oedema, a sign of severe altitude sickness. I told him that it was allergies and would watch for it, but the fact that he was concerned definitely reassured me and reinforced the importance of having a good guide. We very much trusted him with our lives, after all.
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