Kilimanjaro re-post: Getting There

As mentioned in the previous post, this is documentation of when my Dad and I went to Africa to hike Mount Kilimanjaro in 2010. 

Getting There: August 30- September 1st, 2010

It took quite a while to fly from Salt Lake to Chicago to Amsterdam to Arusha. 36 hours of traveling is too many hours, I assure you. By the time our HUGE plane rolled into the TINY Kilimanjaro airport (which was essentially a garage) we were exhausted and at least I was extremely nervous. I'll write a different day about what hiking Kilimanjaro actually means to me but suffice it to say that it is something I really want to accomplish for numerous reasons. I am pretty scared that something will happen that would prevent the ascent.

Sitting here in Arusha, Tanzania. All is dark outside my mosquito net, Dad is still asleep. Our plane got in last night around 9:00 PM local time and the jet lag had me confused and drowsy. But I knew this trip was going to be a success the minute I looked out the window and saw them wheeling a flight of stairs up to the plane's door. I don't know why but I've always wanted to walk down stairs to get off a plane. The Kilimanjaro airport is SMALL. We waited in a line to get our passports and entry forms approved. My shoes squeaked with every move on the bright orange floor. I watched the woman reviewing my Dad's passport. She is one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen- large dark wide-set eyes with dark curled lashes, hair braided neatly into tiny ropes, clear skin the color of dark chocolate- stunning. Everyone here reminds me of my Nigerian friends in Italy. The airport smelled like bananas.

Banana trees.

Stephen picked us up from the airport. He's a quiet African man with a shy smile. He turned on some Matisyahu and rolled down the windows. We wove through the streets of Arusha, cold air blowing on my face. It smelled exotic and different. I was exhausted yet excited as I looked out the window and saw my first glimpses of Africa. Small steel buildings, old cars and vans filled to capacity, people smiling and calling to each other as they stood in the middle of the street listening to music on old radios, no street lamps on, no moonlight- just standing in the dark. I could feel the hair on the back of my neck and near my temples begin to curl as the damp humid air blew in the car. 

Our hotel is quaint to say the least. Colorful, but quaint. Dad calls it a dive but says "we didn't come all the way to Africa for the accommodations." I'm sure it'll seem like a palace once we get off of the mountain after a week of hard-core camping. The showers are hot-ish and the beds are somewhat comfortable so I'm not complaining. It's 4:30 in the morning and I am wide awake. I hope this lasts- we typically need to go to bed early and wake up early to hike throughout the hike. I hear roosters crowing. This early? Man, African roosters aren't kidding around. 

Just got back from the Arusha markets. We needed to get some shillings, Tanzanian money. Our money had old dead presidents on it... theirs has lions and tigers on it. Africa is way cooler than America. Walking around the streets was pretty thrilling. We were the only white people in sight. Everyone greeted us warmly with "Jambo!" (hello) and "Karibu!" (welcome) and I just loved all of them. Most of them wanted us to come into their shops to see what they were selling. "Please, my friend! Come my sista' friend! Pretty girl, come with me! Come see what I have for you! Come to look, not to buy, it's ooookaaaay!"Hilarious. I bought a beautiful nativity set, some scarves for friends back home, and other trinkets. I just walk around with a goofy smile on my face. 

Tomorrow we begin the hike. I am extremely nervous.

Night before the hike. You can see the anxiety on my face, can't you?