Liberation Tower at Night and Qatteri Cat
We love going to Souk Mubarakia. Took this recently on a cool, clear night from the souks
The Qatteri Cat has not lost interest in the tree, but no longer seems interested in pulling it over. The blanket is Masai, from Tanzania. Great Christmas colors!
Qatteri Cat in the Dog House
Last night, Qatteri Cat had what we call the cat-crazies. I think he misses my husband, who chases him around, throws his ball, tosses him on his back and rubs his tummy. We hang out together, but I’m not so much FUN as Adventure Man.
So last night, just minutes after I had turned out my light, I heard a great !!!CRASH!!! I knew what it was, as I could hear crunchings, tinglings and things falling even as I “rushed to the scene” (and a tip of the hat to the Kuwait Times who use that phrase endlessly).
Here is what it looked like before:
It was late at night. I couldn’t deal with it. I found a large sheet and covered the mess and went back to bed. Qatteri Cat was too embarrassed, he hid until he thought I was asleep, and then came in – he was cold – to sleep snuggled up next to me.
This morning, I faced this:
The cross at the top of the tree is broken, but I think me and Mr. Elmer can fix it:
Of course, any of you who have cats and understand their little pea-sized brains, will know that this morning the Qatteri Cat is totally mystified as to how this carnage happened.
That’s him, skulking back behind the newly upraised tree, still a little embarrassed and hoping I don’t remember he did it.
Qatteri Cat
We were flying back to Qatar after visiting our son. It was December, and we would not see him at Christmas; he was in his first real-life grown-up job and couldn’t get the time off for the long trip to Qatar and back. We were desolate.
I turned to my husband and said “I need a cat.” I expected a fight. “You work all the time, and I need a cat to keep me company.”
He said “I need a cat, too.” His eyes were kind of teary.
When we came to Qatar, we came with a 14 year old diabetic cat. When I arrived at the airport, without the right papers, the customs guy told me he would have to hold her overnight while I got the right papers from the Department of Agriculture. I started digging out all the hypodermic needles, and her insulin, and telling him she needed her shot at exactly seven in the morning and seven at night and he looked at me in shock and said “take her! take her!” and I scampered out of there as fast as I could, before he could change his mind.
When she died, the Gulf War was starting. In the middle of an important meeting, my husband came home because I kept thinking maybe she wasn’t really dead. It was heartbreaking. She was like a member of our family. My husband said “No more cats; I can’t go through this again.”
So it was only 9 months later when he agreed we could get another cat.
I went straight to the vet, who said he had just the cat for me. He was the longest, skinniest cat I had ever seen, with a great big fluffy tail like a fox. I adored him.
When he got home, he wouldn’t have anything to do with me. Every time I came near him, he cringed, and ran and hid. But the minute my husband walked in the door – it was love at first sight. Later on, we met his original owners, and one of the women said “is he still such a naughty cat?” and we said NO! that he was a good cat! The truth was that when he got scared, he would forget and use his claws and teeth. I still have the scars to prove it. It took a long time to teach him to trust again, but now, he is the sweetest and most loving cat you could meet. It just took time.
It took time for him to trust me. Now, he hangs out with me all day, and he loves to curl up with me. I don’t kid myself that this is love – he just loves my warm body and he loves that I feed him.
True love is when my husband comes home. Qatteri Cat can hear him coming long before he opens the door. He will leap from wherever he is sleeping and run for the door, and sit there waiting like a dog until my husband comes in the door. His body quivers with anticipation. He leaps for joy, and runs like a crazy cat around the house, scraping all the carpets into piles as he tries to get a grip on the marble tile floors.
When my husband showers or bathes, the Qatteri cat is there. When he works at his computer, the Qatteri cat is on his desk, or at his feet. He is content just to look at my husband with utter adoration.
And then, in the morning, when my husband leaves, the Qatteri cat cries. His cries would break your heart. He sits by the door and asks why my husband has abandoned him, once again. And then he goes and gets his babies, one by one, and puts them by the door. Who knows what this cat is thinking?
Big Diamond and Little Diamond
Today is my last day here, before I leave to go back to Kuwait. This morning, I packed everything except what I am wearing today and tomorrow. I know myself too well. I have to go to one of my favorite stores today to buy my father some soft cotton gardening gloves. I will have to face one last temptation.
No, I did not make it out of the store without buying something for myself. It’s the smell. . . You walk into a hardware store and something in the air gets to you. I love hardware, I love new bathroom ideas (glass block makes me shiver in anticipation) and oh! a new magic tool! A storage solution! Hardwood flooring! New countertop options. . .! New shades of paint! steel wool! Oh! Oh! Oh! The problem is I know I still have a little room in my suitcase. . .Yes, I am a hardware junky.
My sister, Big Diamond, is in town and called me to ask if we could have lunch together with her daughter, Little Diamond. They like Vietnamese food too – I have to have one last portion of Vietnamese salad rolls with shrimp, and a “small” bowl of vegetarian Pho. I picked them up nearby. I know you have a lot of curiousity about me and my family. Here is my sister and her oldest daughter:
Hiking With Robin Pope in Zambia (4)
We hear the drums waking us the next morning and we are SO ready. We have met with Robin Pope, who oriented us with maps to the area of the Mupamadze River we will trek, and has given us all kinds of hints as to how we will need to dress and to take care of ourselves and one another.
After breakfast, we load into a land cruiser specially built in Tanzania on a Toyota truck base. It is sturdy, tough, and very practical. We choose our seats, we tuck our long pants into our socks, we pull our sleeves down over our hands, and wrap our kikoy around our faces – we will be heading into tzetze fly territory.
From the very beginning, we understand what is so special about travelling with Robin Pope. This man knows so much. We stop every kilometer – here is a bird rarely seen, and here is a lion track, and here is a lagoon where we might see . . . ! Things we might pass right by without knowing anything are examined and are illuminated; we see the world in a tiny pond, and we see the miracles in a leaf.
We come to a great sand river, full in the rainy season but empty and sand-filled now. Robin gets a running start, but still, almost to the other side, we bog down. Yes, I am taking the photo, but as soon as I took it, I had to go and push, too. . . .
these trips aren’t for the lazy bones! It took all of us pushing and Robin rocking the truck back and forth to get it going again, and get us to the other side of the sand river. Great exercise!
Almost to the camp, we saw a family or warthogs and five little warthog babies along the right side of the road, and and a duiker kill on the left side of the road – two more stops. It’s waaaaayyyyyy late when we get to camp, but . . . who cares? Vultures circle – and we learn to identify five different kind. We are having a ball.
These temporary camps are not so elaborate as the camps at Tena Tena, Nkwali and Nsefu – they are put together and taken apart as we hike along the river. We stay one night at the first camp, two nights at the second camp and two nights at the third camp. The tents are small, but still tall enough to stand up in. There is a nightstand between the two camp beds, with a candle, matches and mosquito coil. Each bed has a folding type stand for a piece of luggage. Outside, there is your washing stand, two camp chairs, a mat, places to put your toiletries, and places to hang your wash.
There are separate “long-drop” toilets for the men and for the women, a shovel and a bucket of sand as part of the etiquette so that whoever comes next won’t be grossed out. The shower is a gravity drop shower, with nice warm water. We have to arrange with one another how we will schedule our shower time.
At lunch the first day, they serve a green salad, spinach crepes, pumpkin, onion bread, beef salad, potato salad, melon and cookies (biscuits). Amazing – out here in the middle of nowhere, a beautiful table, nice wines, tablecloths, napkins and great food. Best of all is that we have good travelling companions, and the conversation is fast and furious and a lot of fun.
We travelled lightly, so almost every day we have to wash and hang socks or a shirt, or even once a pair of jeans. They dry very quickly in the hot hot sun of late August. The days start out chill, rising around six to be on the path by six thirty, but by the time we get to our next stop for lunch, it is hot hot hot. Although we are hiking six hours in the morning and a couple hours in the afternoon, it is easy hiking, maybe some brisk walking but always stopping as Robin spots a martin, or a rare bird, or hears buffalo, or even – spots a lion!
After a rest and time for settling in, we take a late game walk with Robin to the top of a nearby hill where we can look off into the far away hills, and watch the river meander out of sight. He points out where we will trek the next day, and we head back for camp.
The plan for the trip is to do about 10 km a day – we hike for six or so hours in the morning and then another two in the afternoon. OK, here is the truth – I am an introvert, and I don’t like to feel rushed about taking my shower, so I skip the afternoon walk just to have some quiet time and a leisurely shower. The walks are not rigorous – during the mornings, we may hike, but we stop so often to look at things or to take photos that we never feel pushed or tired.
My very favorite part of the hiking is crossing the river. Robin finds a safe, not-too-deep place, away from the crocodiles, and we all strip off our shoes and socks and carry them as we wade across the nice, cool river. Early in the morning we see herons, and buffalo as well as crocodile, and it all has an unearthly feel to it. Robin knows where all the good paths are, so we will cross and spend a while on one side, and then cross back over to see something special on the other side.
Sometimes after the morning hike, we find ourselves at the next camp. Only twice were we at the same camp two nights in a row.
The food was absolutely amazing. Beef Wellington. Tilapia. Wonderful sweet desserts. And once, oh what a treat, a selection of locally made Zambian cheeses, chevres, a brie-like cheese, a Cantal like cheese – oh my heaven.
On the last night, I scurried with the crew to meet the hikers down the road about three kilometers by the river. When we got there, the crew set up deck chairs in the shallows of the river, and the hikers got there just as the sun started to go down. There was a huge Goliath heron fishing nearby. There were hot hors d’ouevres, there were mixed drinks and good wine, and a great big full moon rising as the sun went down. Sitting there in that river came a sudden self-awareness: “How cool is this, sitting in the river with Robin Pope watching the sun go down after five days of trekking? Life is good.” It was a thrill.
Dinner that night around the campfire – I think it was fish curry and vegetable curry, a caprese salad (tomatoes with Zambian mozzarella di bufalo), a big green salad with toasted sesame seeds, and something sweet and chocolate for dessert. The meal itself is hazy – the conversation was so good, so much fun, we had a lot of fun with Robin and with our fellow trekkers. And then. . . as the embers started to die down, we could hear a drum, off in the distance, and singing. We could hear clapping. And it came closer. We all fell silent, wondering what this was?
The entire crew approached slowly, all dressed in their best clothes, singing in multi-part harmony, singing Zambian songs, some gospel songs, bush songs. . . moon glowing overhead, the smell of woodsmoke, after a great meal – the singing was haunting and magical, and utterly unforgettable. We were all sad to be ending this adventure, and the beauty and delight of this Mupamadzi concert put it all over-the-top.
The concert ended and we drifted off to bed.
The next day, we broke camp, leaving the Mupamadzi and heading back for Tena Tena. Travelling with Robin Pope, the adventure continues – a huge old boabab tree here, hills they are exploring for future walking treks over there, and uniting it all, Robin’s gentle wry humor and keen observations. Time has no power over Robin, it is the moment and the opportunity that are all important, and our last day is every bit as great an adventure as the first.
There is a lot of world out there – and yet. We know we will be heading for the Robin Pope camps in the South Luangwa Valley again and again.
The link to Robin and Jo Pope’s home page is here.
In addition RPS puts out a wonderful weekly newsletter all about happenings at the camps – new animal babies, leopard killings, flood season, what’s going on at the Kawazaa school, and daily life in the year-round camps. You can subscribe to “It’s Monday” here.
Colorful Season
These aren’t even my favorite colors; I just can’t stop taking photos because it has been so long since I have seen autumn. The weather changed overnight, though, from warm and sunny to cool and rainy. (shivering)
Hiking with Robin Pope in Zambia (3)
There’s a lot of world to see, and we never intended to repeat a trip. The Robin Pope camps are so exceptional that – we made an exception. The very next year, we are back in Zambia, and eager – we are going hiking with Robin Pope himself.
Who is Robin Pope? He is a native African, and a staunch Zambian. He knows so much about wildlife that he probably doesn’t even know how much he knows. He is quietly and dryly funny. He started guiding as a very young man, and then, together with his wife Jo, began building a very particular kind of tourist experience. When you reach the Robin Pope camps, Nkwali, Nsefu and Tena Tena, you become like family. Well, family who live very luxuriously – the cabins are large and spacious, and beautifully appointed, with fine linens, mosquito netting, shelves, toiletries, all the comforts – a million miles from anywhere.
Each camp holds only a very limited number of campers, supported by enthusiastic and knowledgeable staff. They grow their own vegetables, or buy from local farmers. They employ people from the nearby villages. Black and white people work together equally.
One of the things we were able to do was to visit Kawazaa village, to visit the schools re-built and supplied by Robin Pope Safaris, to visit the local clinic, to visit with local villagers. We can’t wait to go back. The second trip, we bring one big suitcase full of school supplies – calculators, books, paper, pens, pencils . . . it was fun for us to find these things, having met the students who would use them, and the teachers who would benefit by having resources. Everywhere we go, we have to sign a book – the villagers get specific monetary credits for every visitor they entertain.
There are six of us who will trek with Robin Pope, and we meet in the Land Rover that picks us up at Mfuwe International Airport. I love that name – don’t you just see big jets flying in and out? In reality, it is a tiny little airport, handling only small planes. There is one small arrivals gate and one equally small departures gate. Because it also gets an occasional flight from Malawi, it can call itself “international.” We arrive at Nkwali, enchanted once again to find the hippo pod right under our window.
Lunch – how do they do it? Fish cakes with lemon mayonnaise, leek quiche, potato salad, avocado salad, green salad, cheesy corn rolls and butter, finishing with coffee and tea.
On our game drive the next morning, Jacob takes us out to see Thornicroft giraffe, and we see lots of elephants and baby elephants, and a herd of over 300 buffalo. After lunch, it is hot and we fall into a dead sleep, awakening in time for our afternoon game drive which starts with a boat ride across the river.
And what a boat ride! The hippos have spread out, and we THINK we are safely past when one of them lunges at the boat, missing us by a thread.
Thank God, it is hot for another hour, as we are all totally soaked, but also energized by the huge jolt of adreneline shooting through our veins at escaping unhurt from that lunging hippo. On our drive, we see leopard, genet cats, civet cats and a great big lumbering porcupine.
We have dinner down by the river, under the stars, with napkins folded like guinea fowl. It starts with spinach soup, and then there is pork tenderloin, pumpkin, mange-tout peas, cauliflower with a cheese sauce, lentils and for dessert, butterscotch pie. Somehow, we manage not to gain weight – we can’t figure out how.
First Frost
The light frost was already evaporating when I took this photo, early Sunday morning.
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