Ecuadorian adventure: days 1 & 2

So, we got off the plane in 🇪🇨 and rented a 🚙 to drive from the ⛰ down to the 🏞. Google said it was going to be a 4:45 drive. I had calls at 11am, 11:30, and noon that I was supposed to take, and so we figured we'd stop in the last town along the way where we would be sure to have reception before we got to the national park (Cuyabeno) that we were going to. We left at 5:15, so we were expecting to get in by 10am and have some time to sit and do some other things. I had worked on the plane ride from Miami to Quito, but hadn't finished everything, and when I landed I saw that my PL had more things he wanted me to do, so I ended up working in the car while Ephraim drove (he's a real pal. I drove for ~an hour while he napped, but he insisted that he'd rather drive), and at 10:45 I realized that Google said we were still 1:45 out, so I emailed my PL to tell him that I was going to take our calls from my phone on the road, and I'm sorry if I got cut off. He emailed back and agreed to double for me if I would take good notes on what I could hear. So far so good, but then at the end of the second call I lost reception for 20 minutes, so I missed the third call entirely. When we got to the town, I sent in my work and asked for feedback, and then we plunged into the jungle. We arrived at the gate to the park at 1:30—roughly 3:30 longer than we had anticipated.

What took us so long, you ask? The roads we bonkers. It was narrow canyon roads with huge pieces of the road missing in places, a speed limit of 100 kmph but neither of us ever really felt comfortable going more than ~60-80. We did get passed a few times, but generally we'd run into these big trucks that were lumbering along at 30-40 and we'd have to wait till there was a long enough stretch that we could see to pass (and did I mention it was pouring rain most of the way?). At one point, I got a view from above of over a mile of the winding road in the other direction and watched it for a few minutes, and I had Ephraim verify, then as we went into a turn I passed a huge 🚚 going around a bend I made the most hair-raising passing attempts of my life (since once I got down the entire thing was bends and I couldn't see a thing). I knew there were no cars coming, but something about it still scared the living daylights out of me. It was an adventure. We may or may not have had a run in with the 👮, too but I charmed them 😇.

If the peppermint oil burns the 🐜 out here half as badly as it burns me, there's a reason they haven't braved a bite yet, even though at one point I passed a swarm so loud I wondered if I was really in the Village and with a road nearby.

There are, however, no roads nearby. When we left the car 30 minutes out of Tarapoa we got in a small motorboat, and we rode on the river for over two hours to get to our campsite. It's so crazy—this has to be the most remote place I've ever been. There are no towns anywhere nearby, but our guide tells me there are ~10,000 locals who still live somewhere in the rainforest and throughout the national park. He pointed out all the different plants they would use to make poisons to kill one another with, but he says they don't do that anymore.

The rainforest lives up to its name 🌧—despite being the "dry season" it rains for a couple of hours a day. We've still seen some really cool things. My niece, Kate, is obsessed with sloths. They're her favorite thing in the world. She's going to love the pictures of the 3 toed sloth I got. Apparently they move ~200 meters a week. In Spanish they're called the "lazy bear". All the rain has been building up, though, and there's a lake nearby that dries out and fills in based on the rain patterns. Apparently it was empty 7 days ago, and now there's been so much rain that it's 2 meters deep. They offered to let us go swimming on our afternoon jaunt. I was sort of tempted, but I figured it wasn't the best idea with my fear of parasites and all (I mean, the Amazon is probably only second to Africa for best place to pick them up, right?). A few minutes later I pointed out a fish jumping 🐟 where we had been and asked what kind it was. "Oh, that was a piranha! They're jumping after the sardines". Turns out the piranhas here can get to be over a foot and a half long, some of the largest in the world. They have razor sharp teeth, and "usually" don't bother the swimming tourists. 😳

At night, we went on an evening boat ride to try to find caimans. They can get up to 6 meters long, but our guide has never seen one larger than 4.5 meters. That's still a whopping 15 feet. We went for a while and I thought the trip was a bust—we kept going into little bays and inlets, and didn't see anything, until boom! 🐊 Our guide pulled a baby caiman out of the water with his bare hands. He let us all touch it before he put it back. Apparently the caimans and the anacondas (which can get up to 7 meters long) are in a death match to take over the river basin, which is scary in its own way. We haven't seen any of the anacondas yet, just some smaller boa constrictors.

This morning I woke up to 🐒s howling and 🕊s chirping. It was fairly charming. After breakfast, Ephraim and I took a canoe and set out on our own and found "stinky turkeys" 🦃, which apparently have talons in where their elbows would be, and a pre-historic digestive system that lets them eat only toxic plants, so they smell really bad.

Scenes from a Leisurely Hike

So, it took no fewer than ten porters to maintain camp for Scott and I—carrying a portable toilet, dining tent, sleeping tent, and glacial water from the various babbling brooks we passed. At that rate, including the ~70 to 100 people that summit Kili each day, I estimate that the mountain employs about 7,000 people on an ongoing basis. Not bad.

Kilimanjaro

I'm on the plane home now, somewhere over the ocean between Athens and Rome, and the short breath and stunning glaciers are turning into a bit if a hazy memory, but this picture says otherwise.

The first Westerner to hike it was a German professor from the university of Leipzig in 1889. It took him no fewer than 6 weeks to make the ascent. It's a marvel of modernity that I can hike it all in 6 days (though it's more like 5, since we left at noon and got back at 11am).

In any event, it's a magical place—the locals used to climb it to commune with God, and there they found a cold, mysterious, magical white powder that turned into water when they tried to remove it from the mountain. Crazy times. Crazy place.

19,340ft above sea level I stood on monday morning at 7am. 10am on Friday morning I'll be in JD orientation at Harvard Law School—what a contrast. Hopefully jet lag isn't too bad coming home!

African Guesthouses

So, I'm staying at an African Guesthouse in Zanzibar's Stone Town (the old town, built all in limestone). It's a crazy sort of place—old mattresses, old refrigerators, old chairs and tables.

It does make me wonder; everything here looks well used; was it ever new? I've never been in a more modest looking place like this where everything is new (except perhaps, the Hotel Ibis, in France—but 1. that's continental Europe and 2. they had much different style items). So here's the question; did they buy these used, were they new once and have just worn out, or did they come out of the factory old?

Either way, the Guesthouses all seem to be non-descript and about the same price level; $15-$20 per night, including a fairly large breakfast. I'm amazed that a place like this exists in the world. I also got a tour down to see dolphins (an hour drive plus a three hour boat tour / snorkeling with the dolphins and a large lunch) for $25. Eating out can cost as little as $6, including tip & tax, at a fancy restaurant. I went crazy at an italian restaurant last night with some British girls I met on the dolphin tour and we dropped $10 each on pasta, pizza, fondue and ice cream.

I suppose that makes the $100 entry fee for US Passport Holders make a bit more sense; it's about as much as I will spend (all in) for the other 3 days I'm here; the government wants it's piece of the action, too.

It's 7:22am. The street below me is bustling; it sounds like a vendor rolling his cart into position, a boda-boda (small motorcycle) cruising out to visit a friend) and friends greeting in the street. It's bustling till about midnight, but I sleep with earplugs in and I sleep like a walrus for the first few hours, so it doesn't bother me. I do, however, wake up when the mosque across the street blares the call to prayer at 5:30 every morning. Come to Pray! Come to Pray! it calls to me. I pray it will stop and I can pray at my leisure.

Today (though I probably won't get to send this post till much later—today is Tuesday August 16, in case anyone is curious) I'm headed off on a Spice Tour to see some spice plantations and the old slave caves (popular because of the powerful alliteration? We'll see. I'll report in tonight). Then this afternoon I am headed to the East Coast (no, not Boston) to see some beaches (I'll probably read my MLK autobiography), before I catch an 8:20am flight tomorrow (read: this time tomorrow I'll be in an airport waiting for a flight to Kilimanjaro—the tallest mountain in Africa!).

Why will I hike it? To quote Sir Edmund Hilary: "Because it's there."

Prop Planes Still Unnerve Me

I have to admit, despite having flown a few by now, I'm still a bit unnerved by the thought of a piece of metal spinning fast enough to hold me 20,000+ feet in the air, yet here I am, cruising over the Indian Ocean to the mysterious Zanzibar (which I first heard of through Muppet Treasure Island, and thought it was a fake place).

Still, the thrill of traveling to new places keeps me going. Onward and upward!

30 Rock

One benefit of working in a place that's so touristy is we get all the free food samples—last week HSBC was giving away strawberries and cream!

Ah, summer in NYC!

The view from my office

I started work at Odyssey Capital today; I get my own office on the 22nd floor of 30 Rockefeller Center, with a window that opens to the south (the building covered in fog to the left of center might be familiar to some—I could see it from my cube at Citi, as well). I'm waiting for Brent to finish a few things, so I'm getting the office tour and welcome. Odyssey sublets office space from Squire Sanders, a law firm here in the city.

I'm all moved in to my room in Chris Wheeler's apartment—I'm living on an aerobed with an upside-down box as a nightstand. I figured it wasn't worth bringing too much, since I'm moving halfway through the summer and I'll only be here 10-11 weeks anyway.

Also, looks like my plans to go to Pakistan fell through in the wake of the Osama shooting / Pakistani bombings. It would have been cool, but Maliha says she doesn't think it's safe, so now I'm looking for another adventure in august.

Hope you're all doing well!

Jim

The biggest snail I've ever seen

Climbing on our table at an open-mic night in Livingstone, Zambia. Pretty awesome!

The End of the World.

Good Hope

That is, the Cape of.

European sailors dreamed of finding new worlds, so they set off to the south. Africa was strange and powerful, but the Europeans couldn't conquer it (thanks to malaria, though that was fixed in the 1800's by the gin & tonic concoction many explorers sipped). So they kept on going, and going. Finally, the rounded the edge, the Cape of Good Hope. It was the first sign of rounding Africa on their way to India and the spice islands. The Suez Canal wasn't built till the mid 20th century, and Columbus couldn't find India, so for centuries sailors passed the Cape.

I've been to the end. The extreme.

Fire & Ice

What a strange hotel. This was where we stayed in Cape Town. The lava carpet and themed elevators were charming after a couple of days. The window to the shower In the bedrooms never really grew on me, though...

Richard Branson?

So, we're studying entrepreneurship, and this strikes me as quite the story.

Richie Brans went to a weightlifting competition and saw our man Tumi. Tumi won the competition and talked to Richie afterward, who found out that Tumi was from Alexandra (see my other post). Richie decided to pass along a set of weights so Tumi could actually prep for competitions. Tumi lives in Alex, though, so he doesn't have a lot of space. Instead of hogging the goodies, he's decided to start a gym called Ikasi Gym, in Alex, where he sponsors & trains local weightlifters. It's 100 rand to join and 70/month thereafter. That's like $10.

All thanks to Richard Branson. What a guy!

Floating in the Clouds

From where I sit, the earth is miles away, and the trees, fields, farms, buildings and even mountains people squabble over are insignificant. A tree might as well be a fleck of dust. I feel closer to outer space than I do Africa, though she sits beneath me only 7 miles. I see the darkened sky and dream of the clear lights I see at night. It certainly gives the rat race a bit more perspective.

Need I say more?

Driving

Listening to Waka Waka by Shakira—written for the World Cup to commemorate the rise of Africa, the triumph of the individual as a part of a community. Its about overcoming the past and rising to a new future.

We're going to a game park, so I'm listening to all of my Africa songs, from Africa by Toto to the Circle of Life.

I like driving—it's one of my two great releases. The other is reading (I am still infected with a severe case of OCBB—obsessive compulsive book buying. I plunked down more than I've ever paid for two thick tombs on modern South Africa this morning, and it energized me to start reading them).

When I drive I feel the rush of the ground passing by silently beneath me, the flow of the wind in my hair, brushing over my hands and past my face. I downshift and the rumble of power surges through the engine, climbing mountains, sailing over bridges and running through the forest.

It's a good life.

Contradictions

South Africa is a nation of contradictions. Apartheid is over, but the whites still control the wealth. It's in Africa, but the roads are filled with Audi's, BMW's, Mercedes, and Ferrari's (occasionally a Toyota or a Renault, but they're the exception). The cities are filled with the poorest of the poor, who make 8 rand per day (~$1.15), but the wealthy hunt Rhinos for $100,000 a head.

There was a broken down bus with 16 Africans milling around on the other side of the road, only a mile in front of a broken down X5 with a black father looking under the hood, the daughter and brother playin in the grass and the mother waiting patiently in the passengers seat.

Richard Branson gives a poor black weightlifter in Alexandra a weight set so he starts a gym, with an Audi parked in the next house door that looks like it came out of the intro scene of Slumdog Millionaire.

It's a crazy world out there.

Mama's always right

Yup, it's true. It was ~3 degrees in Salt Lake when I was headed to the south of Africa. Remembering many lessons in middle school about the hemispheres and changing climates, I figured it couldn't get better than this—I'd just bring my swimming suit, towel and sunglasses and I'd be set. Not wanting to weigh down my already bloated carry-on luggage, I sprinted from the car to the terminal in a t-shirt, narrowly avoiding frostbite. Thinking better of it, I called my parents and asked them to run out my long sleeved shirt, just in case.

Mom brought the hoodie and the long sleeved shirt and said I'd be happy to have them both. Grunting, I smashed the shirt into my baggage and wrapped the sweatshirt around my waist.

It was a bit chilly deboarding I Atlanta, but that wasn't the end of the world.

Today in the Mabula game park it might have hit 50 degrees, if we hadn't been in an open topped jeep riding at 30 miles an hour. Good thing I had the long-sleeved shirt *and* the hoodie!

Tips to get the Best Safari Seat

So, if you want the folks on a safari to give you preferential treatment, a side seat in the back (often the highest point in the car) as well as great access to any view, just bring a camera. I'm not talking about your run of the mill back of the iPhone cam, but a serious one. And make sure it's got a telephoto lens.

The rule of the safari is he who has the biggest camera makes the rule.

That being said, I've taken ~1700 pictures over the past two days, including some phenomenal lion and rhino shots. None of them on the iPhone, though, so there won't be many pictures in the next few posts.

Mabula!

This is the pool and waterfall behind the Mabula Game Lodge, with yours truly. Loving life.

Photography

Click, click.

The shutter snaps. One sixteen-hundredth of a second. I can't really comprehend that speed.

Speaking of photography (last post), I've fallen in love with it. There's a mysterious satisfaction about snapping a clear photo. I love clearly capturing the face of a friend, a moment of laughter, or a knowing smile. Especially with shortened depth-of-field (thanks to my 85mm f/1.8 Canon beauty), priceless memories are captured for a lifetime.

Now, traditionally I've been a pack-rat. I still have ticket stubs to my first performance of Phantom in Her Majesty's Theater in London, entrance tickets to castles in Prague and movie tickets to see the Dark Knight. I've got museum plans for the Prado, the British Museum and the Met. I have a copy of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire purchased in Piccadilly Circus next to my first copy of the Sword of Shannara, both bowing under the weight of Long Walk to Freedom, but supported by Diplomacy and The Eye of the World. Now, each book carries it's own memory—Long Walk I read during lunch at Hopkins, Diplomacy on the ratty green couches where my childhood happened, and I think were replaced this week, the Eye while waiting for my parents on the Great Wall, and The Goblet while eating the most divine fruit salad in-between broker's visits to houses surrounding the Heath—in other words, my books are their own collection of memories. (Mom, if you're reading this, that's why you can't ever trash them—how else would I remember the green couches, which are long past their expiration, the great wall / sitting in the closet reading before you woke up, or our near brush with Britain? They're more a part of my life than anything else I've left in that not-too-tidy room of mine).

Now I've reached a point where being a pack-rat doesn't make much sense, digitally. Of the 200 pictures I've reviewed from the safari, I deleted about 70 (35%). It's a good feeling. Finally I can clear out the garbage and not feel bad about it. I've taken 4,000 pictures in the past 3 weeks, and it's grand. I may only keep half of them, but that's fine.

For better or worse, mom, you get to keep my books till I can buy a house. Then I'll fill it with them.

Oh, dreams!

Scenes from Alexandra

Including a gym we visited / the owner of the gym, as well as a bakery owner. They both walked us through the businesses they run, their short term goals as well as long-term strategy.

They were very gracious—and Alex reminded me of the Indian slums, just a little more classy & with concrete floors.