Kilimanjaro Part 8a

August 27, 2009 (Day 7 on the mountain and back to Arusha)

We awake to a sunny, warm morning. For our last morning, it is warm enough to eat outside and they’ve moved the table and chairs to a lovely sunny spot (though there is still frost in the shade). We are served our now expected three courses of uji (porridge), eggs, bacon and veggies, and then fresh fruit.

Afterwards the whole crew gathers. There is a rousing rendition of the Jambo, Jambo song, with Chagga additions thrown in by us. This is followed by a Kilimanjaro song. This one we don’t know, but they sing a verse for each of us (we know this because we recognize our names among the Swahili). Papa thanks us for being great clients. We thank the team for being extra awesome. A lot more thanking commences. Then we pass out tips.

This whole tipping situation is cause for some anxiety. As in the states, tipping isn’t really optional; these men depend on tips as part of their wages. The problem for us is that there are a number of different published versions of what you should tip. And the range is wide.

Our official itinerary suggestion matches the high range in a Kilimanjaro book, so we go for that and hope it’s all right. Extra is given to the four wagum who accompanied us to the Crater and carried our gear to 18,000 plus feet, and extra is given to Anton, the mgum in charge of the toilet tent (that is, after all, only fair. His job is to truly carry shit up a mountain.). The reaction to what we have given them is extremely positive, and we’re now reassured. They’ve worked hard, and been amazing, and we wanted to take care of them. In fact it went so well, they go on for a 3rd song and some dancing. It’s a fun final morning. We keep Papa and Macho’s tips on us, as we’ll see them off at the bottom of the mountain.

Then we hit the trail. Papa has left his pack, switched from hiking boots to running shoes, and clearly means business. He sets a pace that is a hairs-breadth away from a jog. Lisa manages to stay with him, but after a couple of slips on the muddy trail (it rained last night), Macho, Anita and I take it a little slower. We’re all still moving quickly though. There will be no stopping today for long photo ops. Within an hour we’re back in the clouds and into jungle territory. Where are those gorillas and fairies?

After a solid 4 hours of downhill hiking, my toes are aching from being shoved forward and my thighs are beginning to feel the half crouch. Then suddenly, we round a corner and we’re there. The exit of Mweka route.

We sign in for the last time, and hang out and wait for Papa to tell us what’s next. Lisa, Anita and I discover, has been doing some judicious planning while running down Kili with Papa. We’ve all been pressing him to let us try ugali, the thick maize porridge that seems to be the main food for our crew, and Lisa and I are interested in trying the local beverage specialty that we’ve heard of, banana beer. Anita has also requested a ride on a dolla dolla bus, as per instruction of her daughter Stephanie who has spent a lot of time in Africa. After all, living as a total tourist is no fun.

Digression on the dolla dolla:

Dolla dolla buses are a mix between a gypsy cab, bus and subway car. They are usually a privately owned small van (think old Toyota vans or the VW bus). Two people operate it: one drives, the other takes cash and makes sure no one cheats them. Then they drive around and pick people up. You hail one like you would a taxi, and they’ll stop and yell out their destination (Moshi!). If where you want to go is on the way, you hop on. They are called the dolla dolla since that was the original cost. A dollar a ride. ‘Dollar, Dollar!’ becomes ‘Dolla Dolla!’ You squish as many people on as you can, like a subway, and like a subway, you can bring almost anything on; chickens, groceries, paint, whatever.

End of Digression.

Papa takes these requests to heart and makes a plan. Instead of Mike Taylor picking us up at the trailhead (what would normally happen), we will take a dolla dolla into Moshi. There we can go to a local bar for beer and ugali. Lisa has made sure he’ll invite the entire crew, and we, of course, offer to pick up the tab. The offer is accepted.

So now we wait at the bottom of Mweka for the crew to all get there and get ready to go. We give Papa and Macho their tips, and Anita gives Macho her trekking poles and gaiters (a generous offer since we’ve learned how necessary both are and he has none), and I leave my Leatherman with Papa as well. Then we offer up all the clothes and gear we feel we can spare and Papa takes it away and somehow they distribute everything among themselves.

As we wait to go into Moshi, we notice that all of our wagum are taking full advantage of the showers at the bottom of the trail, and they’ve all brought a clean pair of street clothes with them. We’re a bit dismayed as it’s quickly becoming clear that the three wazungu will be the only people at the bar covered in dirt and smelling of a male wolf whose been snogging a skunk. We haven’t showered in a week!

To be continued...

Photos: Amy, Lisa, and Anita on the trail down beneath a parasite tree. Singing in the morning. Breakfast set up.