With all the thunderstorms of late, there’s also been a lot of rainbows.  Hopefully, that means (a lot of) good luck is on its way.  Check out this rainbow on a usually drab section of Yonge Street (close to Yonge/St Clair).  An ordinary evening can become special in an instant, if we’re open to acknowledging it…

 

 

An evening stroll along one of Newport’s beaches, last Friday night, led us to a sandcastle.  From the front, it was a work of art.

Around the back, there was a marriage proposal inscribed (to which the answer was "yes," of course)

The shore line and waves looked pink, as did seaweed deposits washed up there—part of the red tide phenomenon.  

Then there were the clams; their shells, at least.  Gulls were fat, happy, and plentiful!

 

Summertime in Canada, (particularly Ontario), at first glance, seems to divide the population into two:  those who have cottages and those who don’t.  Those who have cottages enjoy miles of private shorelines.  Those who don’t can find it hard to gain access to a lot of areas—no parking allowed without resident permit and scant public facilities.  Even when a beach is public, regulations can be prohibitive—with limited hours, no pets, parking and entry charges, and more. A  Sunday afternoon trip to West Kirby, last month, prompted me to think about summertime phenomena and marvel at the old-world charm and simplicity of the setting—few obvious restrictions and daytrip fun for all without fees or memberships.  Please look below to glimpse (on-going) pleasures of British yesteryear:  families, dogs, adult kids, fisherman, and sailors welcome.

 

 

Keep your eyes open—and camera handy—wherever you are, even close to home.  Nature will surprise, delight and astonish if you give her time and consideration.

Some things are easy to pass by. Others make us stop and pay attention:

• Tree stumps by a dried up river bed:  Connecticut, US, November 07

• Frost coated fallen apples:  Liverpool, UK, December 07

 

There’s so much more to England than its capital, London—something I rediscovered earlier this month, visiting childhood haunts in the North West.  

A stroll along Otterspool’s Promenade, overlooking the River Mersey on a Saturday evening. 

 

A walk around the "lake" at West Kirby (on the Wirral Peninsula) on a Sunday afternoon. 

 

A trek over to Hilbre Island on a quiet weekday.

 

Then there were new dining experiences… British food can’t be described as "bad" anymore!  In Liverpool, on Church Street, just off Penny Lane, and all along Allerton Road, a wide variety of restaurants are popping up.  We tried Spire and weren’t disappointed.  Healthy fare, satisfying portions nicely arranged, and friendly service.

In West Kirby, opposite the promenade, there’s the Sunset Lounge Bar.  It’s been there for the last 21 years, and we signed a petition, at the owner’s urging, that the local council not close it down for redevelopment.  A delicious mid-afternoon lunch snack hit the spot—well prepared food and old-world charm, good fuel for that walk around the lake.  No!  Visitors are not walking on water (in the Weskirb photo); the divide between the "lake" and inlet has a creative and historic walking trail.  And, looking off into the distance, some more modern/incongruent constructions are clearly visible:  wind turbines opposite Hoylake’s shoreline, the next resort over. Energy-saving opportunities are changing natural land and sea scapes everywhere, even here.

 

All thoughts (for me) lead back to Kilimanjaro at some point.  Once you’ve completed this ascent, it’s hard to forget it.  I was thrilled to have a friend tell me about the OLN screening of the IMAX movie, To the Roof of Africa, March 16, 08.  Two things struck me about this movie, in particular.  Firstly, what wonderful weather conditions the group seemed to have!  (The struggle my own group had experienced against the elements was incomparable.)  Secondly, how right the guide, Jacob, was with his remark that Kilimanjaro is a place where ordinary people do extraordinary things—leave their everyday lives to stand in a place between heaven and earth.  Since every climb is unique (conditions, obviously, do vary) it’s important to be properly prepared:  tealize that the movie may make things look a little simpler than they might actually be for most, physically and emotionally. 

Painting for The Artist Project, I have animalkind on my mind.  And, whatever is on one’s mind can pop up, by coincidence, in other places.  The leapyear edition of the Tonight Show (February 29) was a wild-animal enthusiast’s delight.  An avid cat-lover, Jay showed fearlessness romping and head-butting with a lion cub, massaging hyenas, and cuddling with baby leopoard-kind.  After backing off from a a mongoose, he wasn’t phased to see his stage "marked" by a feline guest who was just doing what animals do. Even human guest human, Patricia Arquette, was coaxed to talk about her fondness for dickdicks—interesting to her because they mate for life and always poop in the same spot.  In just moments, Dave Salmoni’s animal parade, Patricia Arquette’s explanations, and Jay Leno’s playful jests had transported me back to the African bush. I felt truly privileged to have been able to see all animal types in their natural settings—and to be painting some of them now.  Jay Leno proved his versatilitiy and power yet again.  No wonder the media is abuzz as to what he’s going to be doing next, and at what price.  The Tonight Show (and painting into the wee hours) won’t be the same without him!

 

This Sunday morning (today) was crisp but spring-like. Woken by birds singing and seeing the snow melt, I couldn’t help but think back to last Sunday morning—having to dig myself out of the house.  Last Saturday night, I abandoned my car at the Metro Toronto Convention Centre parking lot because we were in the midst of a snow storm—weather conditions that didn’t bode well for Toronto Art Expo attendance.  Originally, Toronto Art Expo was supposed to be held this weekend (March 13 - 16) and these dates could have worked out better had they been kept.  

When Mr. Peter Maguire (President of Rime Canada/Organizer of Toronto Art Expo) confirmed the date switch (off-line, just before Christmas, and on-line, well into January) from March 13 - 16 to March 6 - 9, 08, I was uneasy.  Apparently, there were two main reasons for the date-change:  to catch March break big-spenders before they left on vacation, and to upstage Toronto’s Artist Project’s first-year, which Maguire didn’t want to have poach his audience a week in advance.  

Sometimes, calculations and manipulations just don’t work.  Mother Nature is more powerful than humankind.  What is meant to be will be, rash or reasonable decisions and changes having little influence over outcome.

Irony:  A week after the event, receipts still haven’t been issued by Toronto Art Expo for expenses already paid (despite pre-show requests).  However, on the Saturday of the actual event weekend, reapplication packages were hand-delivered to each participant’s booth for next year (2009). Then, on the Sunday two paper warnings appeared.  The first note stated that 5 pm would be the cut-off time for resign-up.  Those who didn’t do so by then would be subject to re-jurying and possible price increase.  They’d also lose seniority over booth allocation.  The second note extended the deadline till 6 pm because of "traffic on the floor."

As I sat quietly in my booth (few attendees in evidence) musing about how Toronto Art Expo 08 (at least from what I’d witnessed) seemed doomed from the start, any notion of feeling pressure/anxiety to sign up (and pay up) for a repeat performance seemed a little silly.

 

Every winter I try to be as creative as possible with the floral arrangements/greenery outside my home.  But, in a cold snowy climate this can be difficult—especially for someone who favors natural over fake. This year, I made a 50-50 display (50 percent natural, 50 percent fake), and it’s been more long-lasting and attractive than previous years.  In fact, the fake parts (fruits and berry branches) have had better durability than expected.  Even after holding a lot of snow they will be recyclable for next year’s arrangement!

p.s. Canada Blooms may be happening right now, but nothing’s changed with the arrangements outside my home. No hint of spring!

 

(Photo:  those who made it to the top of Kilimanjaro, with self and guide) 

Even though my Kilimanjaro climb is less recent, certain lessons from it are memorable.  These include:

1.   Better sustain the cold
2.   Bathe less extravagantly
3.   Economize on clothes and possessions
4.   Stop clock-watching
5.   Take things more slowly
6.   Observe and listen
7.   Not fuss about comfort and convenience
8.   Require less sleep
9.   Sleep in uncomfortable conditions
10. Eat more simply and be less picky
11. Not need news from elsewhere
12. Take time out from electronics (TV, Internet, cell, etc.)
13. Push self further and harder, and not complain or avoid
14. Get less flustered about externals/what can’t be changed
15. Focus, no distraction, whereever and whenever
16. Chat with strangers and hear their stories
17. Open up to seizing the moment
18. Get back to basics (with everything!)
19. Assess what really matters
20. Be more fearless

Just like New Year’s resolutions, lessons learned on the trail can be hard to follow long-term, especially when there’s so many of them (and potential obstacles).  Though everyday hastles aren’t exactly the same as chance-in-a-lifetime climbing challenges, circumstances and reactions mightn’t be too different!

Poems 15 and 16 provide closure to my Tanzanian travels—reveal their legacy and an after-trip evaluation of sorts.  (Please don’t forget to check out the other Tanzania Safari Poetry blog posts before and after this one.)  Next, I’ll share the lessons of Kilimanjaro, which, I believe, helped prepare me for the Florence Biennale experience!

15.  From JRO to YYZ

It wasn’t paradise
But it was very nice

To feel, do, see without a care
In the moment
Just to be there

Coming home, not as fun
Things have changed
Inspiration won

No more half-measures
New ideas as treasures

Different perspective
More reflective

Attitude of mind
No longer to be left behind

Taking chances out of reach before
Fresh possibilities
Wide open door

Wanting more
Needing less

Pushing harder
Evaporating stress

What matters
Finding happiness

Goals simplified
Reality intensified.

16.  Trip Evaluation

Missed what was in front  
When looking behind

Missed what was within
When looking without

Regrouping, regathering
Soaping up and lathering

Coming home’s been a process
Messages mixed
Needing to be fixed

Coming home’s been a rebirth

Opportunities to do not as before
Paving the way for a whole lot more

Magic in the moment
Risk ahead of reason

Adventure needs to live
So much to give

Magic in the moment
Life is short

If we don’t do it soon
Chance is we never will

Staying with the feeling of the climb
Not wanting to run out of time

Need to make it to the top again
No matter when

No more struggle
No more muddle

Some know how
Others know now

Never want to say
I knew then

Power of doing
No more brewing

Living each new day
In a special way

Recognizing what’s good
The important understood.

 

 
Poem 14 was written on the journey home.  (Please don’t forget to check out the other Tanzania Safari Poetry blog posts before and after this one.)

14.  2 Degrees C in Toronto—Light Snow Falling

It’s a long way back from Africa
Dreams fade to realities
Magical moments diluted in airports

Travel companions shift gear
Though you’d like to hold them near

What’s been put on hold has time to unfold

2 degrees Celsius in Toronto, light snow falling
Announcement on landing

Welcome back to a world where simple pleasures easily lose focus
Ready to journey away again

Planning for what, where, when
Already.

 

Poem 13 describes final game sightings, heralding the trip’s conclusion.  (Please don’t forget to check out the other Tanzania Safari Poetry blog posts before and after this one.)

13.  Day 9

Penultimate game drive
Not as alive

Sightings less prolific
Nothing scientific

Simply, the end of the trip is nigh
Almost time to say goodbye

From more to less populous parks
Expectations and excitement, less sparks

Nature full of wonder
At the right place
In the right moment

We’ve felt it
We’ve been there
We long for it
We’ll remember it

Big beast of a jeep
Adrenaline rush
Hush!

Two cheetahs to the right
Lolling under a tree
New feeling of glee

When it’s over it’s over
Or so you think

"Hakuna Matata!"
Staying cool helps

"Caribou!"
A welcome that lasts

A family of giraffes to the left
Mother, father, three calves

Gracefully and elegantly close our trip
Of magic a real sip.

 

Poems 11 and 12 describe personalities we met along the way—highlight less typical cultural exchanges and adaptations.  (Please don’t forget to check out the other Tanzania Safari Poetry blog posts before and after this one.)

11.  Safari—Day 7

Bats by night
Bows by day

Our last tented camp
Another sleep entertained rest
Malarone dreams, the best

Wildlife squawking and screeching
Tent solid
No breaching

Electricity and water rationed
Camp hostess impassioned

Lovely Argentinean married to German
Children speak Swahili

A goddess in beads and white linen
Male travelers’ heads spinen

With the Hadzabe tribe they get to strut their stuff
Shoot arrows—just enough

Another cultural exchange

Bracelets and necklaces at a price
Reciprocity nice

Journey back
Dust hard to swallow.

12.  Safari—Day 8

Masai village resort
A transitional place
Others set the pace

Texan in charge
Enables aspiring talent to live large

Neither country nor city folk
A different life they know

A cultural exchange, quick training
Everyone gaining…or not

Masai musicians and acrobats at dinner
Later they guard our rooms
With spears, not brooms

What are they thinking?
What are we thinking?

Merging the ancient with the modern
The affluent with the down-trodden

Begging inevitable
Who are the culpable?

A future that’s hard to surge
Paths diverge

For me, not a happy feeling
We lie in our cozy beds at night
Their experience, more of a fight.

 
Poem 9 explains how campers’ fatigue had set in.  Poem 10 describes a more active way of taking in the landscape and meeting its people—cycling.  (Please don’t forget to check out the other Tanzania Safari Poetry blog posts before and after this one.)

9.  Safari—Day 6

Chips, spaghetti, canned veg and mince
Usually food that would make me wince

Last tented lunch
Ready to munch

At this point
Anything tastes good
Stomach understood.

10.  Safari—Day 7

African biking
Like its hiking

Dust, gravel, and rocks
Patience and caution
With the posterior so much contortion

The morning wind makes the awkward feel easy
A ride that’s surprisingly breezy

But, then comes the midday sun
For now, nature has won

After lunch under a shady tree
Enough for me

Banana stop
Chapatti stop
Along the way, lost en route, the momentum to stay

Village children draw near
No fear
Our food they’ll hold dear

And so our uneaten lunch we pack into a box
Gently, sweetly, the little ones share
Then comes the fox
Out of his lare

Village bully grabs what he can
That wasn’t our plan

The afternoon sun scorches
Our support vehicle hot as torches

A puncture needs to be fixed
Another adventure
Nothing nixed

Another day in Africa
Luxuriating in the moment
Not thinking about what might be elsewhere
Details swirl, but no heavy care.

 

Poems 6, 7, and 8 describe experiences in the Ngorongoro Crater area, where wildlife was more sparse and a slight safari-fatigue was manifesting.  (Please don’t forget to check out the other Tanzania Safari Poetry blog posts before and after this one.)

6.  Safari—Day 4

Into the crater we go
Flat topped Acacias
Then burnt brush
Followed by a nothingness

Hush, hush

An arid plain
Wind blowing
Few animals showing

A solitary ostrich struts her stuff
Finally a photo op.
No fears

Two old lions peruse
One ready to snooze
The other leaves to wander
Has us gazing yonder

A couple of bull elephants take a drink
"They’re old," our guide tells us
That this is a retirement area, it makes us think

Today, the energy’s not there
Day four, our expectations higher, for more to see
But that’s not reality

The Serengetti had us in another place
A faster pace
Multiple herds
More than just a trace.

7.  Monkey Picnic

Monkey picnic
Very slick

Jeeps move in
Monkeys too

Closed the roof too late
Monkey in
Monkey out
No time to hesitate
Monkey see
Monkey do

Cookies from the front seat gone
Greedy monkey eats every one

Other monkeys surround
No contest
He knows how to play the round

And soon the pack is gone

Working each hand
He makes a stand

A snarl as the camera nears
Really upped my fears

Bold male
Cannot fail

Young mother near
But away they steer

Tiny babies suckle
One of nature’s wonders
We chuckle.

8.  Afternoon Drive

Look and you shall see
If it’s meant to be

Pressure on to find a Rhino
Or, to let it go

An on the way, so much more found
By chance
Hyenas, Flamingos, Wildebeest abound

From a distance,Rhino finally spotted
Photos taken of profile

Though not close
Of excitement provides a dose.

 

Poem 5 describes the most potent people experience—with the Masai. (Please don’t forget to check out the other Tanzania Safari Poetry blog posts before and after this one.)

5.  Masai

Masai Masai everywhere

Truck in ditch
Makes them rich

One jeep pulls over to help another
Then smother smother

Children on backs of other children
The breast fed
The underfed
The snottied nose
The rings on toes

Picture, picture
Bracelet, bracelet

Haraka, haraka
Quickly, quickly

Little girls pushing sales
Make interesting tales.

Three or free
Hard to understand

From our end
Nothing planned
Clearly a routine
Can’t be mean

Dust fills the air
Nearly there

Tow chain breaks
Up go the stakes

3 jeeps hooked together
Now drizzly weather

2 pet dogs play
While in the company of the Masai we stay

Fantasies of passing the night in their huts
Could think of worse ruts

Small change spent
Time for the sinking sand to relent

Spontaneous visit done
A lot of fun
Everyone won.

 

Poems 3 and 4 are the second two Serengeti poems. (Please don’t forget to check out the other Tanzania Safari Poetry blog posts before and after this one.)

3.  Safari—Day 3/1

Warm breeze
Flapping tails
Zebras relaxing
Nothing taxing

A third game drive
The bush comes alive

Golden glow of changing light
Snow far out of site

Clear pale blue sky
Faint dustings of clouds

Another day in the life of the bush
Hush, hush

Jeep chatter
It really doesn’t matter

Nature all around
Not a sound

Waiting for something to be
Scouring for something to sight

A fight
A kill
Whatever will

Procreation
Defecation
Sensation
Elation

Ours or theirs?

Worries and cares
This hour we have none
Except with nature
To be at one.

4.  Safari, Day 3/2

From vegetation
To arid plain

From pale blue skies
To billowing clouds

From brush
to rocks

Hush in the jeep
The talkative one’s asleep

Too much excitement for one morn’
Lion cubs newly born and suckling
Lionesses devouring prey
Nothing very far away

Buffalo resting under trees
Buffalo drinking, not thinking
Diet coke can floating down stream
Garbage in a wilderness shattering a dream

Driving fast to leave the park
The vista becomes more stark

A tree here and there
Impala without a care
It’s shade they share

Alone or en groupe
They’re quite a troop

Then nothing for a while
Till jamming of breaks
Up go the stakes

Cheetah under tree

National Geographic yellow jeep
Wide angled lens pops out
Not a peep.

 

Many Kilimanjaro climbs are followed by a safari, and ours was no exception.  Also, poetic reflections kept on coming, and will be included in the blog posts immediately following.  You might also like to look back at my other poetic safari experiences from 2006:  general observations, as well as those specific to experiences in Botswana and Zambia. 

The 16 poems from the Tanzania trip have slightly different emphases and perspectives. Though there are many aha moments, the magic of first-time marveling isn’t quite as pronounced.  Also, having just climbed Kilimanjaro, any experience, no matter how special, is hard to juxtapose.

All 16 poems will be posted chronologically (over 9 blog pieces, which includes this one).  The first four poems were written in the Serengeti, which, for me, was the most potent wildlife experience. 

Poems 1 and 2 are the first two Serengeti poems.

1.  Safari, Day 2

The chorus starts well before dawn
Songs and signals
The volume rises

And still it’s dark outside
Beyond our tents so many animals hide

It’s their space
Not ours
We’re visitors here

Zipped in for the night
Nothing should we fear

Escort with bow an arrow led the way
And, in our tents, we’re supposed to stay

Window canvas open, mesh protecting
A dark clear sky is all we see
Starry, starry, starry night.

2.  Safari Recap—Day 1 - 2

Antelope, gazelles, jackals
Warthogs, lions with cubs
Hyenas and leopard
Elephants, giraffes, zebra
Wildebeest
Hippos, swallows, vultures…

To name but some that we saw
A thirst for more

And, disappointed we weren’t
Next day, a whole day drive
The feeling of being so alive

Watching in wonder and awe
Just as you thought you’d seen the best
Then came more

Dead zebra and hypo
Natural deaths

Dead jackal
Road kill

Wounded and bloodied zebra
Lion kissed but missed

Another lion charging for prey
Not fast enough
All ran away

At the watering hole they knew what to do
Flap their tails, grunt, and cry
None of them were going to die

Solitary bull giraffes
Gave us interesting views
But, a herd of elephants, our very best news

Monkeys preened
Baboons watched over lionesses and their cubs

Tourist-contained jeeps gathered in hubs

Hippos—a hundred or more
Wallowing in their pooh
The biggest outdoor loo

Crocodiles and birds provided picturesque backdrops
So many stops!
A Hamerkop’s giant nest
Oxpacka birds’ symbiosis with giraffes

So many herds
So many terds.

 
The two poems that follow look at transitioning back to reality—our own world of others and the Tanzanian roadscape that we found ourselves traveling through (Kilimanjaro, behind and above the clouds and the meaning it may imbue, personally and locally).

8.  Explaining to Others

Explaining to others
Is hard to do

The pain, the gain
The fight, the plight

The keeping going
The inner knowing

The turning of day into night
And night into day

Snow, ice, wind
Burned our faces
Wounds as traces

We know we were there
Our bodies too

But, pinch me now
To put into words
That others can understand

Peek experiences
Intended to be shared

Special moments are private
But things done together
No matter the weather
Give other rewards

A chance of a lifetime experience
Something to hold dear
Especially when others with you have been near.

9.  On the Road

Dust and dirt
Fumes and noise

Back to a reality of sorts

The adventure continues

Skinny goats and cows
Bones protruding

Roadside huts and store fronts
Locals milling
Even for a shilling

Coca Cola clearly the drink of choice
Celtel the monopoly for text and voice

The two biggest advertisers influence
But, where’s the opulence?

You decide

Rich dyes and prints
Each unique
Make wonderful clothes

Women with basket trays of bananas on head
Make a colorful scene
As do their children
School uniforms pristine

About the rest
It’s hard to know yet

Smiles on faces
Police checkpoints enforced

An order amid chaos
Slowly, slowly—pole, pole

Donkeys travel the same road as cars
But many locals walking and talking
Active and out there

Not the most progressive place in the world
But, does that matter?

Western eyes quick to judge
Western minds quick to nudge

Leave these people be
If they’re in harmony

The vibrancy of the plants say it all
Potted for purchase on the curbside
Jacarandas high above
A haze of blue and mauve

Bougainvillea
Dashes of pink
Makes you think.

 
The following two poems look at impact:  after-climb thoughts and reflections.

6.  Day 8—After Climb

Up there
Down here

Down here
Up there

Losing the fear

What once seemed difficult
Might not longer be

What once was out of reach
Attainable in reality

2 days on
The climb is but a dream

2 days on
Thoughts of home flow in

The wanting to stay in this space
Not that

The wanting more time away
Just to play

The wanting to shift
From an environment that doesn’t gel
Where the air is stale
And people pale

The wanting to be in the now, not just today
Feel alive in every way

Vital, intense, passionate, active
The Kili climb reminded me…

Who I was and how I can be.

7.  Day 8—Camaraderie

With some you can
And others you can’t

With some you will
And others you won’t

There’s no knowing who, where, what, when
Except by how you feel
And what you’re enabled to do

The right group
At the right time
In the right moment

Being confident of others around
Made everything feel sound

Knowing we were on the same team
Made hurdles a dream

Familiar and not
About each other we learned a lot

But, oh so much more to know

Seeds of friendship to grow
Or, just right for the circumstance

A special connection, no matter what
A great beginning
Kindred spirits as they are
Not fancied up in a jar

Bonds that’ll mature
Or, bonds that’ll slow?

Magic and mystery surround
Coincidence and luck abound

Staying open is what counts

Continuing onward, upward, forward
No markings on the trail ahead
Spontaneity instead.

 
The first of the next two poems describes approaching the final ascent.  The second records having made it to the top.

4.  Day 5

Nearly there
In the world without a care
Except getting there

What an accomplishment to make it
Real and raw
No way to fake it

What a dream to be above the clouds
See the winding paths we have traveled

Step by step
Minute by minute
Ache by ache
We’re closer to our goal

This time tomorrow
Pole by pole
To the top of Kili we’ll stroll

Winded, worn, and wary
There’ll be nothing scary

What a climb
What a rhyme
Just in time

To complete something others don’t dare to try
Cautiously
Carefully
And with a sigh

What an opportunity
A privilege
A gift

From doing nothing else there can be such a lift

In the moment
Or telling what was
No need for any because

And, what comes next
Who knows?

Applying lessons learned along the Machame Way
To a very different N. American every day.

5.  Day 6, Kili Ascent:  Success

Strong in body
Strong in mind

Strong in mind
Strong in body

To do things out of the ordinary
In ways that are extraordinary

To watch others trying them too

Those who can
Those who can’t

Those who could
Those who would

Those who did.

 
The two poems that follow here are mid-climb, on a long Day 4.

2.  Kilimanjaro, Day 4/1

Equal when challenged
Challenged when equal

The day is long
The body becomes strong

And so too the mind

Others’ responses you can’t always gage
Except with Kilimanjaro as stage

Those who like to talk
And those who don’t

Those who give signals in other ways
A posture, a glance, a shrug
Even a little tug

Camaraderie versus competition
Encouragement versus criticism
Affection versus rejection

A group spirit endures
To everyone, a round of applause.

3.  Kilimanjaro, Day 4/2

Candy wrappers show the way
Who would have thought?
Toilet paper marks the spot
Who would have known?
Cell phone signals around most bends
Who would have guessed?

All true—no jest

Then there’s nature…

Volcanic scree
Treacle scented flowers
Cactus palms that look like people
Caves and rocks
Clouds moving in and out
And through the mist, a burst of blue
The bluest blue you’ve ever seen
In reality, or on screen

A movie this climb is not
It’s so much more

Altitude sickness
Drug reactions
Freezing cold
And outdoor toilets
Offer experiences never had before

The challenge
The fear
The relief
The satisfaction

Each has its place and time

Nearly there
Nearly there
Pole, pole
Slowly, slowly

The final ascent is but 24 hours away
Oh what a day—though it’ll be night through early morn’

Each trail we’ve taken to get to this point
Has tested every joint

The long, the short, the in between

And now the even longer
For the even stronger

The will is there
And so is the way

Pole, pole
Slowly, slowly
The best plan
Woman or man

Contrary to the N. American way
Something to remember
A take-home gift with which to play.

 

Climbing Kilimanjaro was truly a life-changing experience—one I’ve been savoring almost daily since returning.  Some of the details are fading and the final hours of the ascent are a little sketchy.  Only talking with those who were there with me helps, and explaining to others properly is difficult sometimes.  However, from Day 3 of the climb, my wordscapes (poetic ramblings) started up, and I’m very glad to have them to look back at now.  These are where I record details and  feelings in the moment (or shortly afterwards). Even those who weren’t with us on the climb, I’ve found, have the opportunity to get a better sense of what transpired by giving this poetic journal a quick look.   

All poems will be entered chronologically.  The first Kilimanjaro poem is included below, and eight more will be divided between the next four blog posts.

1.  Kilimanjaro, Day 3

No I can’t
Yes I can

No I won’t
Yes I will

Climbing the mountain
Or going to the bathroom
Hesitation
Then elation

Every sensation counts
Tension mounts

Nothing to worry about
Except getting there

About the rest of life
Not a care

The body is what matters
All its pitter-patters

From drug reactions
Tingles and jingles
To rumblings and mumblings

Food and drink
Give us a lot to talk about
As do other folk along for the climb

The mood is high
Pain we want to deny

The humor is good
Most jokes understood

Personalities emerge
Memories surge

Our reality is the now we are in

Nights are cold
Sleep interrupted

Dreams in pieces
Time to think or not

Just the packing
Unpacking
Sorting
And rearranging
Gives us enough to do

Onward and up
We hope to go
Nausea, headaches and all
A thought to appall

The mind is willing
Challenged
The body too

Can we, will we?
Yes please!
Thrill me.

I’ve developed an interesting (and practical) habit of being in one place but posting blog entries about another.  When my paintings shipped to Florence at the end of October, in preparation for the December Florence Biennale, I shipped myself to Africa (Tanzania).

It was a long-time special dream to be able to climb Kilimanjaro, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I, or the the mountain, would have to realize it.  What perfect timing to get out of the mind and into the body!  After 10 months of uninterrupted painting and related duties, I was ready for a different type of physical challenge—something I didn’t know would test my mental and emotional strength too.  

If you look back to my blog entries for the end of October, 07, you’ll notice the one from the 24th is entitled Endurance, and the one from the 28th is entitled Stamina.  Ironic!  On reflection, I’m clear that my best training for climbing Kilimanjaro might have been painting for the Florence Biennale! Please check out my Candid Artist Ramblings list, posted on my birthday/rebirth (October 19), the day I set out for Africa.  My sudden and acute awareness of transferable skills and attitudes has been eye-opening and educational since.  

I wasn’t the fittest person in the group, I also hadn’t done enough (almost any) training.  So, how did I make it to the top (be in the 50% who do, and the only woman among peers)?  I think three factors helped:  

1. I had the proper clothing (and wore it)—really took time to organize packing and followed all formal instructions from guidebooks and informal instructions from travellers who’d succeeded previously.

2. I didn’t try to be clever or take chances in any way—used poles, ate and hydrated well, listened to the guides in going "pole, pole" (slowly, slowly), and took the necessary meds.  Thank you Diamox (altitude sickness inhibitor)!  Even though this drug made my hands and feet tingle relentlessly, it was a very good friend and support.  

3.  I didn’t go on the climb with the idea that I had to make it all the way.  I was aware that I might not have the capacity to do so, and could forgive myself weaknesses.  Competition was not what this journey was about for me.  It was more of a spiritual quest about being there and experiencing whatever was meant to be—and accepting it, while still fit and young enough to get myself over there.  

The lead-up days to the final ascent were a honeymoon of sorts.  The final ascent was a whole different story—nothing similar—the most challenging physical endeavor I have ever faced (and no one had informed me about properly).  What kept me going on the final ascent?  Three gifts:

1. The camaraderie of those with whom I was climbing and our attentive guides.  

2. The not knowing what was coming next and not having been prepared for the worst—being in a situation I could do nothing about and just getting on with it.

3.  The not-giving up factor, once I was so close, and because there was no real reason to.  How could I go down (in still bad weather conditions) if I hadn’t made it up?  We’d been climbing for six days and, at the 11th hour, I couldn’t justify turning back. It was the same way down if you made it up or not,  and I couldn’t find a good enough reason to turn around.  Not thinking about what I was actually doing or the discomfort of continuing also helped.  Automatic movements and focusing on other thoughts—and struggles—became a lot more meaningful and empowering. I acknowledged that I never really give up, no matter how awful the task is, making the climb a metaphor for so much more.

For the last hour I wept my way up, partly out of pain, partly out of emotion—maybe more out of emotion. I couldn’t turn off my tears or howls. The tears froze and the howls got absorbed by the wind.  The feelings were intensely private.  But, as discussed later with climbing peers, appropriately universal.  These guys had had their own emotional releases too!  Reaching the top, we all embraced.  It was a magical moment in a glacial wonderland where we were too cold and tired to take photos or stick around.

On October 29, 07, back in Moshi, I was able to check e-mail, and saw that a friend had forwarded a New York Times Sunday Magazine feature article by Tom Bissell about his own Kilimanjaro climb, "Up the Mountain Slowly, Very Slowly." It had been published the day before, on October 28, 07.  What a coincidence!  And, even more interesting, Bissell had been based in Rome, pre-trip—unable to fully-prepare himself, either…

 
June, 2006, I went on safari—an opportunity of a lifetime. While the camera clicked, so did my mind. I’d not "wordscaped" (escaped with words/written poems) since my book, Poetic Wisdom:  Revealing and Healing (1998). But, patrolling the bush by jeep, the urge returned full force. I saw no other way to jot down experiences of the moment, treasures not to be forgotten. Though I took too long to type up these poetic souvenirs after the trip ended, the delay has had advantages. On review, this poetry puts me back in the moment—that moment—seeming to stand the test of time. Now, I’m curious to know others’ responses to it…

My first group of poems, written in  Bostswana, were posted in this blog’s February 6, 2007 entry. My second group of poems were created in Zambia and were posted in this blog’s April 22, 2007 entry.

This final group of poems were created at different stages of the trip. The first four consider the transition from safari/vacation to "regular life" and what’s going to be missed.  The last two show the importance of congenial travel companions—especially on safari—and what can happen when they’re distracting/ed.

 

1. Bush Perfumes

Bush perfumes
I miss you
Rosemary, Sage, and more
The breathing clearly
The feeling soothed
The energy not usually felt

Bush perfumes
I miss you
Along with the sands
And other sensual treats
You can’t bring home in a photo

Hippos, frogs, lions, monkeys
You made my nights more interesting
Your wallowing,  croaking, crying, or screeching
I’d take them anytime

Horns, brakes, sirens, alarm bells
And the odors that accompany them
Aren’t a fair trade
Nature versus manmade.

2. In the Moment

Beyond past, present, or future
Appreciating the now
Open to the wonders of how
Giving distance to hurts
Grounding self
Not anxious to go back
Navigating the trivia co-travellers remind me of
Savor the privilege and power of "here"
And happy I can take it "there."

3. Heat on my Face

A perfect place and space
Hard to travel away
Really want to stay
A vacation that will feel like a dream
In a week, that’s how it will seem
A vacation you don’t want to have end
The hurts of reality start to mend
And then you’re back
Will things be the same, or different?
An energy to take away
Please, please, let the magic stay
The heat on my face as reminder
Please, please, please, seeking an everyday that’s kinder.

4. Escort

After dark
And even by day
You’re encouraged to have an escort
Anyway

In the bush you never know
Which predators lurk
And, if you’re from other parts
They can come at you, fast as darts

But, in the bush, with or without escorts
I never had fear
What would be, would be
The animals weren’t really after me

Back in the city, it’s another matter
There’s a lot of patter
Anxiety in the street and at home
It’s not any easier or safer to roam

Escort free, there’s only me
…and I never feel free.

5. Two Safaris

The terrain is clear
As the American gals near
From nature there’s a lot to learn
But some never will

Nature’s gifts aren’t only animals
They’re environmental too
But, it’s rush, rush, rush
Missing the changing shapes and colors of the land, sky, and flora

We’re first, we’re fastest, we’re the best
Everyone else "sucks!"
A group dominated by phobias, fears, and follies
Child-like women without their material crutches
 
Issues better left at home
But they bring them here
A world apart, for which they show little heart

Bitter, competitive, damaged
They think they have a point to  make—always
But the animals don’t want to hear
Co-travellers neither

The cackles and colorful clothes
The vying for attention
A sacred experience tarnished
By she whose nails are varnished.

6. Shopping Mad

On and on and on
From game to gain
Bargain to bargain
Contagion in the group
Quite a troop

Some start slowly
Others copy
Some haggle
Others pay full price
Everything, right now, is nice

Bags bursting
New bags bought
How to ship?
No worries
Tourists in flurries

Weight and size restrictions no longer matter
Very welcome commercial patter
More and better
More and cheaper
Special or not
Most buy a lot

The closer to departure
The greater the activity
Sensation
Desperation

Back to materialism
Competitiveness
Oblivion

The magic of the trip eclipsed
Commercialism might have it nixed
A few carefully selected souvenirs, or greed
Whatever it is, the journey home has begun.

p.s.  For more recent African Poetry, please check out blog entries about DocSusan’s Kilimanjaro Cimb (9 poems) and Tanzania Safari (16 poems).  The two new series were started December 2, 2007.

 

June, 2006, I went on safari—an opportunity of a lifetime. While the camera clicked, so did my mind. I’d not "wordscaped" (escaped with words/written poems) since my book, Poetic Wisdom: Revealing and Healing (1998). But, patrolling the bush by jeep, the urge returned full force. I saw no other way to jot down experiences of the moment, treasures not to be forgotten. Though I took too long to type up these poetic souvenirs after the trip ended, the delay has had advantages.

On review, this poetry puts me back in the moment—that moment—which seems to stand the test of time. Now, I’m curious to know others’ responses to it.  My first group of poems, written in Bostswana, were posted in this blog’s February 6, 2007 entry. My second group of poems were created in Zambia and appear below, in this entry.

 

1. Victoria Falls

A true wonder of the world
My heart opens
Hoping for transformations

That the surprise rainbow it gives
In my being lives

Wishes on a rainbow
That I hope will be

Big falls, here and now, it’s just you an me
Please let them be

None else around
No other sound except the rushing waters

A perfect moment to savor
A life changing experience, and more.
 
2. Spunky Monkey

At the Livingstone
They’re kind of funky

Monkeys, monkeys, everywhere
Doing what a monkey might do
A human too
Steal, snatch, run, grab
All in a day’s monkey business
Hold onto your apple
Close your door
Whatever a monkey gets, he’ll always want more
Monkey see, monkey do
For a Livingstone monkey
That’s very true
They’ll outwit even you
Outside the room, at the dining table
On your balcony, or on the roof above
By the pool, or at the dock or bar
Seated or standing up
They’re ready to pounce
Faster than fast
Breast feeding
Or showing their “blue power down below
With one eye
Giant or petite
They’re part of a fleet
One appears
Then one more
And before you know it
It’s a pack attack
Hold on to loose parts
Sweet creatures, wild hearts.

3. And Then There Were Seven

Seven zebras that is

Wild, or so the hotel says
But they bait them with food
Three consecutive days we’ve seen them
Same places, same mood

Old, young, in between
In groups of two, three, or four
And with one off to the side
Every configuration
Every direction
Plenty of attention

But, don’t touch
Even at the zoo you wouldn’t

Six inches away is where I want to stay
Commune with them, make friends
Let them know why I’m taking so many photos
The memories they’ll give
The feelings of glee

They’ll be painted and transformed
Reformed but not tamed
Reassembled in my head
Considered from every point of view
Become pieces of my art
As well as my heart

Long stripes, short ones
Swirls and whirls
Very black, very white
Shades of gray, beige, and brown
All my notes on their markings are jotted down

200 digital images later
I’ll be certain there’s one I missed
The two that nearly kissed
The one licking her wound
Always seeking that better and more original shot

Then, on the the last day at the last hour
It comes perchance
Off to the side, the beautiful one sits down
What a picture, what a memory
What a moment
To treasure. 

p.s.  For more recent African Poetry, please check out blog entries about DocSusan’s Kilimanjaro Cimb (9 poems) and Tanzania Safari (16 poems).  The two new series were started December 2, 2007.