Survival Tactics

Africa. The dark continent. The birthplace of man. From pyramids to apartheid, glacial peaks to vast desert, the continent boasts a vast diversity of history, landscape, language, and culture. If there can be found one place that embodies the full human experience surely it must be here, having been the stage for some of mankind’s brightest moments, as well as some it’s darkest. To call it by one name only is to almost ignore the multitude of distinctly different cultures and the ample range of varying people and traditions existing within her bosom. To say the word, Africa, conjures up a plethora of unique mental images, each completely different from one other yet all accurate representations of life here. But let’s face it, there’s one thing everyone thinks about when they hear the word Africa…animals.

Large animals. Weird animals. Large and weird animals. The kinds of creatures you wouldn’t want to run into in a dark alley, or any alley regardless of lighting. Thus begs the question, what do you do if you do happen to cross paths with one of these walking wonders of the natural world? Simple. Ask the Maasai. The Maasai are widely regarded throughout Kenya as the baddest, most reliable ally to have in your corner when facing off against a man-eating, man-stomping, or otherwise man-harm-inflicting animal of any size. But what if you don’t have a Maasai warrior on hand when you happen upon one of these beasts of the savannah? Rest assured, I’ve taken your lack of preparedness into account and have gone out and done your homework for you, seeking the advice of a seasoned Maasai warrior/Peace Corps language instructor on how to handle encounters with Africa’s baddest of the bad.

Buffalo (Swahili: Nyati) –
Don’t let their docile appearance and cute old west bartender style hair-do fool you, the last thing these guys are going to do when trouble breaks out is go hiding under the counter. While there’s never a truly safe time to be around one of these wooly behemoths they are most dangerous when startled, so fancy card tricks, surprise birthday parties, and just showing up at their apartment without calling first are all strict No No’s. Having spent many years growing up sitting entirely too lose to the television despite the advice of their parents, their eyesight is pitiful, though their sense of smell is rivaled only by blood hounds and breakfast cereal tracking toucans. If chased the best course of action is to somehow strip off your top layer of clothes while running away (easier when wearing traditional Maasai garb or one of those goofy khaki safari shirts with all the pockets than when sporting a skin tight T-shirt and Wranglers), toss them on the ground, and continue running while the buffalo theoretically stays behind and wrestles with your abandoned duds. If that doesn’t work, climb a strong looking tree and wait for your horned friend at the bottom to lose interest in flattening you and wander away.

Elephant (Swahili: Ndovu) – Another short tempered colossus of the savannah with eyesight fouled up by TV and comic books yet still possessing a keen sense of smell. I mean just look at that nose*. The strip and run plan is the same as for the buffalo, but no tree climbing with these guys as elephants are renowned as highly skilled tree climbers (their secret is in the way they knock over the tree before climbing on top of it). As a side note, elephants are said to have a strong aversion for bees, so you may want to take an ounce of prevention and consider carrying a bustling hive around with you on your next safari.

*Fact: an elephant’s nose is actually an in-line series of over 300 separate noses, each more powerful than the last.

Rhinoceros (Swahili: Kifaru) –

Sadly, these creatures are being spotted less and less in the wild due to online poaching and to thousands of hours of their lives wasted away in front of a computer by solitaire and online gaming. If you are lucky enough to spot and be chased by one of these magnificent and rare creatures the best strategy is to run in a zig-zag pattern which I think has something to do with taking advantage of the blind spot created by it’s horn. As a side note, Rhinoceretopses are reputedly terrible at managing personal finances, so your should never loan them money, but if you can somehow turn this to your advantage when trying to escape then go for it.

Crocodiles (Swahili: Mamba) –

Best just to play it safe here and not go near any water that’s not in a sealed bottle.

Hippopotamus (Swahili: Kiboko) –

Insomnia. Binge Eating Disorder. Agoraphobia. These poor creatures are case studies in multiple complex disorders and should be commended for simply having the strength and the courage to get out of bed every evening. No matter how bad last night was for you theirs was almost certainly worse, so you can count on them being in a pretty irritable mood should you cross paths in the wild. Much like this buffalo brethren to whom they have no relation, these water dwelling behemoths are in no mood for surprises. The best course of action should you encounter one of these groggy swamp monsters is to run as fast as you can and never put yourself between a hippo and water.

Leopard (Swahili: Chui) –

(Three leopards stealthily disguised as cheetahs)

Sporting a sleek spotted coat, these cats look good and they know it, spending most of their day trying to avoid unwanted attention from adoring fans by hiding out in trees, hollowed out log, and other incognito places. Being extremely concerned with maintaining their good looks, leopards will shy away from any conflict that threatens to disfigure their chiseled facial features, thus grabbing the jaws of a pouncing leopard is said to render them submissive and let them know you’re no one to be messing with. How exactly to grab a hold of their jaws while avoiding the sharp claws and teeth was not so well explained. Good luck.

Cheetah (Swahili: Duma) –

Usually will not attack humans. If they do become confrontational try challenging them to a race and then take off in a different direction.

Zebras (Punda Milia), Wildebeests (Kongoni), Giraffes (Twiga), Gazelles (Swala), etc. –

Cowards. Will usually run away rather than attack so long as you don’t do something stupid like jump on it’s back try to ride it.

Lions (Swahili: Simba) –

The baddest of the bad. If you bump into one of these guys you messed up somewhere. I mean really messed up, like punched a nun or something like that. But not to worry, handling them is merely a lesson in counter-bullying 101. If you run into one of these snuggly, cuddly faced killers the first thing you need to do is stand your ground, act cool, don’t run away, and don’t pursue. As the Swahili saying goes “Zivuta Kama Uko Nazo” or “Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em”.

If the lion approaches continue to stand your ground and it will think twice about whether or not it really wants a piece of you. If he does, hey, don’t blame me for just standing around, like you were really going to outrun a freaking lion anyway, I don’t care how many touchdowns you scored that one time playing touch football. If he walks off then you do the same in a different direction, preferably into a house or car or back over the zoo railing or something. If there’s more than one lion then get the heck out of there, they’ll just surround you eat you regardless of how cool and nonchalant that leather jacket makes you look. Also, finding closure in your life and spiritual oneness would be a good idea right about now.

Moral Dilemmas

There are generally said to be two types of season in Kenya. Rainy seasons, and the seasons spent waiting for the rainy seasons. The rains are the powering force behind life in the region and to denounce them would be like driving a needle made from frozen lemon juice under the eyelids of every man, woman, and child in the country. Rewards of cash and rare jewels have been promised to the mad genius who can produce a device capable of harnessing the power of precipitation, while those who hint at even the slightest dissatisfaction with gloomy weather are advised to pack up and leave or risk being declared enemies of the state.

Requesting the rain to go away and come back another day is considered treason under the Kenyan constitution, so far be it from me to even entertain the thought. But a plague has descended upon my humble residence. A foul, putrefying scourge. The kind of unrelenting assault on the senses that makes rookie cops throw up into handkerchiefs, eventually dashing behind their squad cars to finish the job. It came on slightly at first. A faint, stale odor floating on the night air, creeping into my nostrils during my sleeping hours. I raise my head and try and identify the reeking source, but the delicate olfactory trail is lost as swiftly as it came on. Days pass and the haunting fragrance gathers potency, always strongest when I lay my head down to rest. “This pillow case needs to be washed,” I think, and the next day I seek to assuage the aromatic malady through a combination of bleach, boiled holy water, and elbow grease. The sanitizing miracle tonic works wonders initially, but the reprieve from my pungent invisible foe is short lived. Repeated attempts to cleanse my linens of this malodorous hex are becoming less and less effective, making it clear that a moment of resolution is fast approaching. The breaking point arrives one night as I’m drawn out of a deep, restful slumber by an overpoweringly rotten odor reminiscent of an aged wheel of fetid cheese which has been stored for seventeen sweltering summer months in the pouch of a sweaty kangaroo.

“Enough”, I decry, though it comes out as an inaudible groan in my still half sleeping state, as I cast the putrid blend of cotton and limburger as far from me as I can without leaving the comfort of my mosquito net. Having one of the rankest pillows in the history of stinky sleep paraphernalia is an inconvenient, though manageable, problem. Running into such a problem at the beginning of the rainy season, a time when anything set out to dry only becomes more drenched, is kind of a drag. I would never ask for anything that would make life here more difficult for those here whose livelihood depends on the rain, but one sunny afternoon couldn’t hurt, right?

Tick Tock

The concept of time has systematically blown the minds of individuals who have made any attempt to understand it since before the dawn of civilization. Wormholes and black holes. Relativity theories and flux capacitors. It seems the deeper we delve into the subject the more confusing, depressing, and frankly uninteresting the whole matter becomes. Even the time-space guru Einstein was known to feign exaggerated yawns and bellow out “BO-RING!” when engaged on the subject by students and intellectual colleagues for more than a few minutes. But despite our lack of understanding on the illusory subject, time plays an important role in various parts of the world, and Kenya is no different.

Some might say that time holds a unique place in Kenya in that it seems to have no place at all. 9 AM meetings regularly start at 2, “right now” could refer to anytime today, and the phrase “next week” could be three months from now or beyond. Indeed, the Swahili proverb “Haraka Haraka Haina Baraka” (Hurry Hurry Has No Blessing) is seemingly followed to the letter. But there is a system here. An unspoken set of rules and guidelines driving the day to day agenda of those living far outside the shadows of the city. A protocol that everyone understands and adheres to. An etiquette that is the bane of anyone who foolishly tries to push their own agenda without trying to understand the culture they’re in. Who would be foolish enough to waste the morning in an early meeting when that’s the coolest time to work in the field? Why would anyone risk the social isolation that would result by not stopping to greet everyone they pass on the way to the village or by not attending the 3 day funeral of their friend’s cousin’s grandfather just so they could meet a deadline? Those from clock dominated societies seem to run into an unending sea of frustration when they cross through the wormhole and into this alternate chronometrical society, so it’s important to remember things will happen when they happen. A meeting will start when it starts, the shop will open when it opens, and a 6 month late blog post is considered right on time.