Ngorongoro

My final day of safari is in the Ngorongoro crater. I learn from my guide that the place gets its name from the sound of the bells of the maasai cattle. This is indeed a fascinating place, like someone cut a circular section of 10 km radius of the Serengeti, intact with all the fauna, and placed it in a petri dish. The 650m high wall that surrounds this crater is in stark contrast to the boundlessness of the Serengeti plains just north of here.

On my safari in the crater I'm looking out for the last of the "Big Five" that I haven't spotted yet, the Rhino. While I'm busy watching out for it, a male lion majestically walks past us ahead of our vehicle. Just a few kms away we see a pride of five lions gorging on a buffalo that was probably killed a few minutes ago. Our third encounter with the lions today happens at the picnic spot where a pride strays into the parking area. One young male settles down in the shade of a safari vehicle. When the vehicle moves forward he follows it and sits back down in its shadow. When the vehicle moves yet again, he urinates on it as if to claim ownership. When the driver refuses to obey that contract, he gives up and walks away looking for a more reliable shadow.

We eventually find the rhinos we are looking for but not from a distance I would have liked. After that little encounter, we drive down to the soda lake and photograph the flamingos before driving off to Moshi.

On the drive back it feels different because, for the first time in 5 days, I'm sitting down in the passenger seat with the sun roof lowered down. For the first time in days I'm not straining my eyes to spot wildlife. Nas and I then go on to exchange notes on our respective cultures. He tells me proudly that he is a big fan of bollywood, and that his favorite song is "Mere Naseeb mein" (My only explanation for that odd choice is that his name appears in the lyrics). I have to reciprocate, and so I learn to sing a Swahili song that is something of an anthem in this part of the world.
Jambo, Jambo bwana, Habari Gani, Zuri Sana
Wageni mwakaribishwa, Tanzania Hakuna matata.

We then discussed all the places in Tanzania that I haven't had the time to visit; Tarangire, Mt Meru, Lake Victoria to name a few. The conclusion is simple: I have to visit Tanzania again!

Serengeti

They say that curiosity, as much as devotion, makes a pilgrim, If you spent as much time as me watching films set in the Serengeti conjecturing about what exists outside the aspect ratio of the TV screens you'd understand why this trip is almost spiritual for me.

Serengeti gets its name from Serengit, Maasai for "Endless Plain", which brings me to the whole truth about this place that none of the documentaries or any of my pictures will (or can) tell. It truly is vast and plentiful beyond belief. The drive into the park is so featureless with no undulation, tree or rock, that it can induce land-sickness. The monotony is interrupted by the occasional jackals, gazelles or the Maasai in his red dress watching his herd! The reason nothing grows here is that a volcano deposited ash over the plains and the thin top soil above that layer supports only grass.

Once you are inside the protected area of the park the vast grasslands are dotted by the characteristic acacias and big granites jutting out, called Kopjes. Of course there are animals and birds in numbers and variety that are mind-boggling. (This without the 2 million migratory wildebeest, zebras and buffalos that are spending this season across the border in Kenya).

Wildlife documentaries don't capture the sense of infinity that you feel in Serengeti. They also misrepresent the rhythm of the place. The herbivores go about the business of eating all day. The carnivores range from Lions, which seem to do nothing but sit around, to the hyenas scanning the plains continuously with their busy gait. The hunts that films focus on are infrequent punctuation that I never get to see in the 3 days I spend there. The closest I get to that is this leopard who had brought home a gazelle to eat both for dinner and the following brunch.

On the second evening I also meet my favorite big cat, the Cheetah. He is at least a hundred meters from my car and he's scanning the horizon for an early dinner. He seems to spot something and starts trotting in that direction. We try to keep pace with him and I notice that we are traveling at nearly 40 kmph. His path diverges from ours and within a minute he's so far that I can't even see him with my binoculars. Having seen his scale of operations here I don't think I can excuse putting a Cheetah in a zoo anymore.

In the two days I spend at the park I see dozens of species of birds, countless ungulates, a male Ostrich getting lucky, a falcon guarding its nest from my intrusions, countless lions, and many more. The safari doesn't end when we get back to the camp, because our tents are right out in the open and we are visited by wildlife at night. On the second morning I see a Zebra just outside my tent and a few minutes later hear a Hyena not more than a few meters away.

On the third morning we drive off to visit Ngorongoro, and on the way out I try to drink everything in. Three days haven't left me accustomed to the vastness of this land and I'm left with that feeling that characterizes all pilgrimages, that feeling of sacred awe.

Lake Manyara

I start my tanzanian safari with a visit to Lake Manyara. I have a Toyota Landcruiser all to myself. Feel bad about being the lone passenger in a huge vehicle but secretly appreciate the freedom too, because folks - even friends - don't take too kindly to stopping for every bird. Nasibu, my driver and guide, tells me that they picked him because he is the most knowledgeable about birds. He uses our journey time to give me an introduction to Tanzanian culture. He is very proud that 120 tribes live in perfect harmony. I like that; it's harder to be fiercely proud of  being peaceful than , say, of being a courageous warrior clan.

Manyara offers me good practice for the biggies that I am scheduled to visit over the next four days. On the way out of the park we come across a Silvery Cheeked Hornbill feeding her "captive" female through a narrow slit in the nest. I had always heard about their strange nesting/breeding habits, and this time I got to experience it from up close.