Just some birds and some monkeys

Tanzania | Anno 2009

 

Tuesday, July 21 | Lake Manyara National Park

Wednesday, July 22 | Lake Manyara National Park – Arusha – Namanga

 

 

Tuesday, July 21 | Lake Manyara National Park

It’s not large, the national park that stretches around Lake Manyara. With its area of 330 km² it pales in comparison to the vast Serengeti. If we had expected to encounter many animals here, we might as well put that idea aside right away, says our driver-guide Pedro. We’ll likely see just some birds and some monkeys. That’s quite the way to set expectations. But well, not every day can be a grand adventure.

 

As we descend into the Great Rift Valley the first baobabs appear at the window

 

As we descend into the Great Rift Valley, the first baobabs appear outside the window. Sometimes it seems as if these strange trees are planted upside down, with their roots in the air. Meanwhile, cyclists speed past us on the steep descent, heading to the market in Mto Wa Mbu with their goods. One cyclist barely avoids a collision with an oncoming motorist in a turn.

Just before eight, we enter Lake Manyara National Park. Quite soon Pedro at a kigelia africana, known as the sausage tree, named for its heavy, sausage-shaped fruits. Pedro’s twinkling eyes reveal that he’s about to share an amusing story. We already knew that beer is made from the fruits of this tree. In Kenya, it’s called moratina, while here it’s known as kangara. But, as Pedro adds as a matter of fact, those who regularly drink this beer never live past forty.

He hops out of the jeep and returns with a broken piece of sausage. The thing has a diameter of 12 to 15 cm and must have originally been more than half a meter long – important details in Pedro’s tale. Elephants love to use the fruit as a digestive aid because an elephant’s stomach, which processes three hundred kilograms of vegetation daily, can sometimes act up. Baboons also use the fruit for food.

But for the Meru people – Pedro’s tribe – the sausage tree is nothing less than the tree of love. The fruit of the kigelia africana is both an aphrodisiac and the ideal measure for the size of the male member. A young man will therefore select a young fruit from a tree and mark it as his own. As the fruit grows to substantial proportions, it will serve as a model for his member. Once the fruit is large enough, he will cut it off to stop its growth. Because with an instrument that is much too big, you can't get by when it matters. That’s why the Meru traditionally don’t wear pants, Pedro chuckles.

DNA analysis has shown that savannah elephants and forest elephants are indeed two genetically distinct species

Forest elephants

An unpaved track takes us southward through the forest at the foot of the rocky wall of the Great Rift Valley. We quickly spot a female elephant amidst the dense foliage. She is eating foliage with her young. These are not savannah elephants; they are forest elephants, Pedro emphasises. In the past, it was thought that forest elephants were a subspecies of savannah elephants. However, DNA analysis has since shown that they are indeed two genetically distinct species.

 

Forest elephants

But there are also visible differences. For instance, the forest elephant is significantly smaller and has fairly straight tusks that point downward. This is useful for navigating through the underbrush. In contrast, savanna elephants have tusks that curve forward.

 

Forest elephants are of capital importance to the Central African forests

You don't see them often, these forest elephants, as they lead a secretive life in the woods. However, they are of capital importance to the Central African forests. More than a dozen tree species cannot survive without these large creatures. As they roam the forests in search of their favourite fruit trees, water holes, and salt licks, these giants spread the seeds of those trees through their dung. But they are threatened. A count in 2013 will show that there are only about thirty thousand left worldwide.

 

Blue monkey or diadem monkey

In a small tree by the road, a monkey reaches for some tasty green leaves. The forest is its favourite habitat, where it feeds on leaves, fruits, and flowers. Its fur is bluish-black, that’s why it’s called a blue monkey. But a band of stiff, light-grey hair runs over its eyebrows. As if it were wearing a diadem. That’s why it’s also called a diadem monkey.

 

Olive baboons

In the distance, a group of olive baboons sits on the road, but as soon as we make a move to approach, they dive into the foliage.

 

Calmly chewing, the head of a Masai giraffe peeks above the bushes, its blue tongue clearly visible

Calmly chewing, the head of a Masai giraffe peeks above the bushes, its blue tongue clearly visible. A female elephant is drinking with her two young ones in the clear water of a stream that cascades down the slope.

 

Silvery-cheeked hornbill

Vervet monkey (m)

Unperturbed, a silvery-cheeked hornbill surveys its surroundings from a high branch. True to its kind, it possesses a massive beak, but its trademark feature is the creamy-coloured casque that caps the bill.

 

Impalas

Zebras

Between the trees and bushes, a few female elephants are walking with their tiny calves, small enough to just squeeze under their mothers' bellies. A little further, we spot a grazing zebra. Then another. And another. Gradually, we find ourselves surrounded by about twenty zebras, peacefully munching on the grass.

 

Vervet monkey (m) with azure blue scrotum

A group of about six vervet monkeys quickly scurry up a tree as we approach. Their black hands, feet, and face stand out starkly against their pale, greyish-green fur. However, the most striking feature is undoubtedly the bright scarlet penis and azure-blue scrotum of the males, which, apparently, the females find irresistibly attractive.

Nearby, a grey-headed kingfisher perches on a branch, scanning the surroundings for insects or lizards. He is drawn to wooded areas near water. Like all kingfishers, he is dressed in stunning colours: a bright red beak, white chest, chestnut-brown belly, and vibrant blue wings.

 

Grey-headed kingfisher

A spur-winged lapwing forages through the short grass. Though less striking in colour than the kingfisher, the bird carries a dignified but understated appearance – solid brown on its back, deep black on the belly, and bright white around the neck. The presence of this wader signals that we are nearing a hippo pool, as this bird only inhabits areas close to water.

In terms of colour, the spur-winged lapwing is inferior to the grey-headed kingfisher

Spur-winged lapwing

Grey-headed kingfisher

But it’s not the grey backs of hippos that capture our attention. Instead, it's the bustling flutter of countless birds – yellow-billed storks, spoonbills, pelicans, and Egyptian geese. Far off in the distance, a large herd of wildebeest grazes peacefully, accompanied by a handful of Thomson's gazelles. For a brief moment, the wildebeest are startled, launching into a short-lived stampede that quickly comes to a halt, resuming their grazing as if nothing had happened.

 

It's the bustling flutter of countless birds – yellow-billed storks, spoonbills, pelicans, Egyptian geese – that captures our attention

In the cool water, there is plenty of space for the hippos, so conflicts are avoided. Yet, every now and then, they open their mouths wide, as if to remind everyone how important they think they are. They also venture out into the world. With their heavy bodies, they hoist themselves out of the water and go to graze on the plains.

 

Hippo pool, water birds, wildebeest

Two hippos lie down neatly next to each other in the grass to rest, while an African yellow-billed stork settles on their backs. It’s a beautiful wading bird, with its white plumage and especially that red mask at the base of its long yellow beak. Often, it stands with its beak open in the water, waiting for prey to swim by. Then, it reacts lightning fast, and no prey will escape it.

 

Hippos, African yellow-billed stork, grey herons

Warthog family

Three buffalo greet us as we continue our way around the lake. Against the backdrop of the steep valley wall, giraffes and zebras graze on the plains. Diadem monkeys and vervet monkeys populate the trees, while baboons and impalas run ahead of us on the road. Warthogs trot across the plain. A hamerkop stands on a rock, spying for frogs and other treats. Who said that there are hardly any animals to see in this park? Just some birds and some monkeys, right?

 

Who said that there are hardly any animals to see in this park?

Diadem monkey

Hamerkop

Higher up on the slope, the Msasa viewpoint offers us a vast view over the lake. Then we return to the plains. A few giraffes are sitting motionless in the grass, sleeping.

 

Sleeping masai giraffes

In the far distance, we can just make out a pink glow above the water. These are tens of thousands of lesser flamingos, their pink bodies blending optically into a thin line. Just like in Lake Nakuru, the water supply of Lake Manyara is steadily decreasing due to the ongoing drought, and fewer and fewer flamingos are finding what they need there.

 

Lake Manyara

Shortly after one o'clock, we leave the park behind. We stroll around the market in Mto Wa Mbu for a bit – some vegetables and fruit, lots of tourist trinkets.

 

Mto Wa Mbu actually means River of Mosquitoes, not exactly a name that attracts tourists

Mto Wa Mbu Market

A Nature Walk through the fertile fields sparks our imagination much more. Aloïs from Green Footprint Adventures will lead us on an engaging two-hour walk, providing explanations along the way.

The region owes its fertility to the abundant rainwater from the volcanic highlands. That we already knew. But that same water also attracts pests – Mto Wa Mbu actually means River of Mosquitoes, not exactly a name that attracts tourists. Malaria and rinderpest forced the nomadic Masai to leave the area in 1961, relocating partly further onto the plains and partly higher up around the volcanoes.

 

 

Since then, sedentary populations have taken their place. Tanzania now has more than 120 tribes, and even in Mto Wa Mbu, you'll find over a hundred of them. This small spot is truly a melting pot of languages and cultures, though our untrained eyes hardly notice it.

 

 

On an surface of just 100 km², no less than eight thousand people live together, according to Aloïs. That may not seem like much, but we must realise that subsistence agriculture also takes up a considerable part of this area.

The available land is used intensively for mixed crops. At the edge of a large banana plantation, Aloïs points out a mango tree, an orange tree, sugarcane, and wild spinach. That sugarcane, by the way, is used solely for chewing. They don't do anything else with it – Tanzania is not Cuba.

In the vegetable garden of a small house, we mostly see European vegetables, but wild marijuana is also growing there. They use that to make an insecticide.

 

Banana plantation

The path leads us through the banana plants like a green tunnel. The long leaves close in above our heads like a roof. Large purple-red fruits are prominently displayed beneath the lush banana bunches.

The bananas are always harvested before they turn yellow, otherwise monkeys will help with the harvest

Fruit of a banana tree

Banana bunch with fruit

Bananas do not have seeds; you need to plant shoots. To do this, you plant a fresh shoot next to the trunk of an old banana plant and saw it off about 60 to 70 cm above the ground. Water will seep down from the moist trunk, permanently nourishing the young plant. Even during times of severe drought, the ground around the trunk will remain moist.

Tanzania knows sixteen types of bananas, but only five of those are cultivated around Mto Wa Mbu. These include the small sweet bananas and the intriguing red bananas.

The bananas are always harvested before they turn yellow, otherwise monkeys will help with the harvest. Nothing goes to waste. The trunk of the plant is used as livestock feed, the dried leaves find their purpose as packaging material, roofing, fencing, or as improvised umbrellas for those caught in a tropical downpour.

 

Although the house may seem fragile, it can last easily for ten years, even under the tropical rains

Amid the banana plants, Aloïs points out a simple house. The walls are made of adobe bricks – sun-dried earth – held together with a mixture of mud, ash, and cow dung. Banana leaves have been used for the roof, as well as for the garden fence and even for the walls of the toilets behind the house. There are no cheaper building materials; everything can be found readily in nature. Although the house may seem fragile, it can last easily for ten years, even under the tropical rains. Only floods are fatal, as they can wash away the dried mud bricks in less than twenty-four hours.

Shoots from the toothbrush tree are used as toothpicks. William had already mentioned this to us on the slopes of Mount Kenya, but what’s new to us is that the leaves can be burned to drive away insects and that they even help combat malaria.

 

Banana plantation

Wood carving by Makonde

Under a humble shelter, a group of men are working with a hammer and chisel. They are Makonde, who are traditionally skilled in wood carving. Originally from Mozambique, they fled the liberation war against the Portuguese that raged in their homeland between 1964 and 1975. Now they are trying to make a living by carving wood between the banana plants.

One of them is Fred, who provides us with some insight into their work. They prefer to work with ebony. It is a heavy but relatively expensive hardwood, as ebony trees are quite rare. They aren’t even found in Mto Wa Mbu, but rather forty kilometres away. Furthermore, it takes 70 to 100 years for the wood of an ebony tree to develop enough shape to be worked. Even then, cutting down ebony trees is completely out of the question.

Banana beer is more nutritious. For this reason, it’s recommended for pregnant women

Boiling bananas for brewing beer

Ingredients for banana beer

Banana sellers

Out of necessity, Fred and his colleagues limit themselves to collecting fallen branches, for which they purchase rights from the government or the Masai. They will never be able to create large ebony pieces like those we saw in the craft shop yesterday.

In addition to ebony, they also work with lighter woods, such as mahogany and rosewood, which do grow in the area. Particularly interesting are the typical towers of human figures representing ujamaa, Tanzania's version of socialism, which was introduced by Julius Nyerere in 1967.

 

 

At the edge of the banana plantation, we continue our way along a river and come across some school buildings. The schoolyard looks a bit deserted, as the children have gone home. In Tanzania, primary education lasts from ages 7 to 14. Those who pass the national exam can move on to regular secondary education. After four years, there’s another national exam – those who pass can proceed to advanced secondary education. After two more years, a final national exam grants access to university.

A scholarship helps less fortunate students cover the costs, but it's essentially a loan, as they are expected to repay this amount to the government once they graduate.

At every level, you have to pay for your scholarship. The paradoxical result is that only wealthy children can study for free

Soon, our driver-guide Koi will poke holes in this rather rosy story. To secure a scholarship, you must take your application through a procession of dignitaries – the head of ten households, the ward chief, the village chief, the district chief. At every level, you have to pay for approval – you scratch my back, I scratch yours. The paradoxical result is that only wealthy children can study for free.

A beer at the local pub – apparently the perfect way to wrap up a nature walk. However, our expectations aren’t high. The pub is nothing more than a half-open hut, and the beer is brewed from... bananas.

Why bananas? Because they are abundant here, says Aloïs. Others use coconut or sugarcane, but here, they brew with bananas. The Chaga, on the slopes of Kilimanjaro, are said to be the first to brew banana beer.

Compared to bottled beer – Tusker, Serengeti, Kilimanjaro, Safari, names we’re now familiar with – banana beer is much cheaper. It’s also less strong but more nutritious than commercial beers. For this reason, it’s recommended for pregnant women. According to Aloïs, it even solves quarrels and marital disputes. No wonder banana beer is an essential ingredient at every successful wedding feast.

If we wanted to try brewing banana beer ourselves at home, here's the process: first, you crush finger millet – so named because it has five tufts. Then, you add flour to the millet and let it sprout, allowing natural yeast to form.

You should definitely not stir the polenta, as stirring would cause the alcohol to evaporate, which is clearly not the intention

Meanwhile, you boil the bananas for six to seven hours so that they lose their sugar and thus their sweetness. You then leave the result to rest in a fermentation chamber – five days in warm weather, seven days in cold. Stirring, mashing, and mixing it with another white powder produces a porridge-like substance that Aloïs calls polenta.

You carefully mix this polenta with your natural yeast. Absolutely no stirring, he warns us sternly, as stirring would cause the alcohol to evaporate, which is clearly not the goal. The dull look in the eyes of the pub’s only regular customer confirms our suspicion that this pub owner never stirs his polenta!

 

Lake Manyara

Meanwhile, a large blue cup has appeared on the table, containing over a litre of the peculiar brew. Beneath a thin foam layer of millet hides a light brown liquid. We are allowed to smell the plastic cup and drink from it too, but first, we must blow away the foam. The concoction turns out to be sour, with no trace of banana flavour, nor any resemblance to traditional grain-based beers. Banana beer cannot be bottled, as it continues to ferment – even in our stomachs, as we make our way back to the lodge in Pedro's jeep.

Top

Wednesday, July 22 | Lake Manyara National Park – Arusha – Namanga

Two harvests per year – rice in the wet season, maize or rice in the dry season. That’s what makes this region so exceptional, Koi explains as we drive east just after eight o’clock along the B144, the road that has been our guide through the savannah since Friday afternoon. A handful of elephants approach from the north, heading toward the more southerly Tarangire Lake.

Arusha is known mostly for the Arusha Accords and the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda, and to a lesser extent as the city where Julius Nyerere introduced ujamaa

We reach Makuyuni, where we connect with the A104. After a quick refuelling stop, we continue north toward Arusha – known in Europe mostly for the Arusha Accords and the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda, and to a lesser extent as the city where mwalimu Julius Nyerere in 1967 first introduced ujamaa, the African version of socialism.

 

Oldonyo Orok Arts & Gallery – Masks

A thick layer of clouds hangs over the land, and it gets progressively darker as we head north. Koi is driving at quite a pace – sometimes hitting 90 kilometres per hour – despite the fact that we have plenty of time. Luckily, there’s a craft shop ahead to solve this pressing issue. Safari jeeps come and go at Oldonyo Orok Arts & Gallery, where the range of craft works is absolutely overwhelming. The ebony pieces on display are enormous, the kind of work the poor craftsmen among the banana plants in Mto Wa Mbu can only dream of making.

 

 

It’s not even eleven o’clock when we arrive in Arusha, a city with just under a million inhabitants. The streets are bustling with activity. Some women walk around in black chadors. According to Koi, around 35 % of the population is Christian and 30 % Muslim, but there’s no friction between the religions.

 

The branches are laden with reddish-brown coffee beans, though they aren’t quite ready for harvesting yet

 

Scattered amidst the lush greenery of a coffee plantation stand the guest houses of the Coffee Lodge. The branches are laden with reddish-brown coffee beans, though they aren’t quite ready for harvesting yet. We arrive there for lunch at half-past eleven.

To avoid the busy city centre after lunch, Koi opts for the old road to Nairobi, west of Arusha. A bumpy, unpaved lane leads us through heavily secured coffee plantations – armed guards and electrified fences are the norm here.

In a wide curve, the A104 takes us around Arusha National Park. Somewhere in the dense cloud cover lies Mount Meru, completely invisible to us. It's a pity we can't see its nearly perfect cone shape. At over 4 566 meters, it is the second highest mountain in Tanzania. Originally, it was even taller, but its summit partially collapsed about 7 800 years ago. Its last eruption was in 1910.

In the distance, Mount Kilimanjaro should gradually be making an appearance, but for now, there’s nothing to see

Gradually, the paved road is increasingly alternated with unpaved lanes. Pole pole – slowly – sloppy posters along the road regularly shout at us

Gradually, the paved road is increasingly interspersed with unpaved sections. Pole pole – slowly, slowly – sloppy posters along the road regularly shout at us. The landscape becomes increasingly desolate, with hardly a few acacia trees or shrubs in sight. Yet, every now and then, a village rises out of the dust in the hilly terrain. To the right in the distance, Mount Kilimanjaro should gradually be making an appearance, but for now, there’s nothing to see. We comfort ourselves with William’s words from about ten days ago – on the Kenyan side, Kilimanjaro is always visible.

 

 

Shortly after half-past three, we cross Longido, the last significant village before the border. It’s still heavily overcast. Half an hour later, we reach the border at Namanga, more than a hundred kilometres north of Arusha. Our Kenyan drivers and guides are already waiting for us there. They are named Robert and Felix, and they have Toyota Land Cruisers ready for us. While our luggage is transferred between the jeeps, the Tanzanian stamps are swiftly placed in our passports. This is where the assignment of our Tanzanian guides, Koi and Pedro, comes to an end, and we bid farewell to our diligent guide and his youthful companion.

The Kenyan immigration officials give us no trouble either. Less than half an hour after our arrival, we leave the border post behind us.

Top

Jaak Palmans

© 2024 | Version 2024-10-07 14:00

Continue reading in (7/7)

Running for your life is not enough