Lions and Tigers and . . .

We've all been to the zoo. Seen the lions and tigers pace back and forth, occasionally fixing their eyes on a small child. In our two week safari to the Tarangire National Park, the Serengeti National Park, and the Ngorongoro Crater, we saw lions and cheetahs and jaguars differently. Co-existing mostly peacefully in the wild, sweeping plains and grasslands, the lions near other animals -- zebras, impalas, Cape buffalo, wildabeests, and giraffes.

Up at 4:30 am for the morning game drive, we rode 4 to 6 in a jeep. We called these open air jeeps "meals on wheels" after we came around a bumpy dirt road in the Serengeti to find this lioness waiting for us. She looked us over and casually sauntered back into the waist high grasses, invisible within moments.

Curiously, all the animals seem to cohabit quite contentedly -- until the lion starts hunting. Then the herd animals get antsy, alert. They call to each other in reassuring snorts and whistles.

At a small waterhole, we spotted first a cub, then another, and another frolicking along a river bank. Their mother slept nearby, then awoke and cuffed the cubs until they followed her back into the tall grasses.

Tune in tomorrow for an answer to the question:  Do lions sleep in trees?

The Baobab Tree

Baobab Tree, Tarangire National Park, Tanzania

As we drove through the Tarangire National Park, we were spellbound by this amazing tree, the Baobab tree, also called the upside-down tree and sometimes, as you will see, the elephant tree.

These big trees dominated the landscape wherever they appeared, stretching sometimes as high as 80 feet. We learned they can live thousands of years. Just the diameter (that's across the tree, not around) can be as large as 50 feet.

This massive tree, crowned with green during the rainy season, is dubbed the "upside down tree" for during the dry season, its limbs look like giant roots. One folk tale tells that during the days of creation, the baobab tree begged to be the prettiest, largest, most fruitful tree of all the other trees. Annoyed, God threw the tree down from heaven and it landed upside down. Some believe that the "roots" of the tree link it still to the heavens and that the tree has special powers.

We came upon an elephant eating the heart of a baobab tree, for its soft wood tastes like sugar cane. This elephant paid us no attention but kept tearing and pulling the bark away, grunting softly. I was surprised to see the landscape is littered with downed trees, for elephants pull great limbs down to eat their leaves, leaving a path of destruction as they pass through the grasslands. Here is the video I took of that elephant in Tarangire.

Note: The comments you hear are of our guides talking to each other. "Sowa, sowa?" means "Are you ready to go?" in Swahili.

A Maasai told us that if you touch the Baobab tree (also called an elephant tree), you can make a wish. Once you touch the tree, one day you will return to Tanzania. We did not touch the Baobab.

NOTE: Children might enjoy The Tree of Life: The World of the African Baobab by Barbara Bash (excellent watercolor illustrations), while you can read more in the online book The Baobabs (540 pages) by Gerald E. Wickens and Pat Lowe.

We are home, still reeling from that long journey home, 46 hours in transit from Arusha in Tanzania to Spokane, a journey of some 9,000 miles -- perhaps as the crow flies.

Arusha is just about 10 hours ahead, so when it's morning here, it's evening there. My body can't quite make up its mind: Is it morning or night? Rachel says that when you make a long journey, your soul must catch up. But of all we experienced over the last three and a half weeks, so much learned and yet to learn, I hope to share some pictures and impressions here.

Africa is much more diverse than I expected; yet poverty remains an issue. People are rightfully concerned about potable water, education, and jobs. But we also saw optimism everywhere in the welcoming smiles of the people we met.

We saw a very brief slice of everyday life in Africa; our wonderful tour through OAT Overseas Adventure Travel led by the witty and knowledgeable Ombeni, did take us to home visits, a Masai family, and a school, but the main focus was experiencing the national parks. 30% of Tanzania is set aside for natural preserves or parks.

The thrill of seeing these wild animals in their natural setting is unforgettable. I have heard the cough of lions hunting at night, seen a leopard with its prey dragged up into a tree for safekeeping, watched ostriches mate, and danced with Masai women. We learned to watch the skies for rain, for this was the short-rain season, that time when the trees and grasses shimmer green on the plains and the wildebeest and zebras begin their Great Migration.

I will try to post an entry a day about some aspect of this amazing trip. For now, I begin with a video of these graceful giraffes on the Serengheti Plains.

October 27: Getting Ready to Leave

Sunhead of 1617, Amsterdam

Tomorrow morning, we awaken at 3:30 am (if we sleep at all). Our plane leaves for Amsterdam at 5:50 am. We'll most likely stagger back on land at 8:30 am to this lovely historic bed and breakfast, the Sunhead, built in 1617 and facing the canal.

Like any intrepid travellers, we have no real plans for the four days in Amsterdam -- other than the Van Gogh Museum and the Anne Frank Museum. And recovering from jet lag before flying south to Tanzania. I'm hoping for coffee.

We are travelling lighter than ever before and for a shorter time, just three and a half weeks. But this marks the first trip outside the US in two years, just before our passports expire. I should be home packing, but I'm listening with half-an-ear to four-month-old Leda and wondering when she will wake up from her nap.

I am not ready to think about Africa. Instead I'm dreaming of Van Gogh, Anne Frank, and walking along the canals of Amsterdam. Drinking hot coffee with pastries. I'll do my best to keep you posted, for this trip will be memorable.

June 8, 2012 . . .

This morning at 3:50 am, the world changed for me. Rachel’s labor began yesterday with steady contractions. Rachel and Nick stayed home until those contractions were about four minutes apart. Nick kept us informed with text updates; they were at the hospital by midnight. We followed and spent the next four hours sitting in the hall outside their room, while inside Rachel labored, Nick assisted, and the doula encouraged. Nurses came and went. We overheard snatches of conversation. Allen read. I sewed. Labor began in earnest. We heard one nurse say, “Don’t push. I’d really like you to wait for Dr. Grimm,” and we knew Leda Rose was on her way.

I would rather Rachel have a visit from a stork or find this dearly wished for baby under a cabbage leaf. I heard her groan and yes, curse, without being able to comfort her. Allen and I held hands. And then we heard that unforgettable sound – Leda Rose’s first cry, robust, demanding, definitely herself. Our little granddaughter was here.  After a while, we heard Nick say, “She looks like my father.” Since Oral is tall, gangly, and with the most amazing pointy head, we were not reassured. Then Rachel cried out with a hint of amazement, “She’s doing it!” (We guessed she was breastfeeding.)

After a time, we entered the sanctum and saw our little grand-daughter for the very first time, so tiny, rosy pink, nestled lovingly in my daughter’s arms, Nick’s face filled with joy. Seven pounds 11 ounces. One perfect ear peeking out from a jaunty yellow hat. Happily grubbing away at both hands stuffed in her little mouth. At that moment, the world truly changed for me. I am already thankful for every moment I will share with this new little person, Leda Rose.

My daughter's child . . .

There's something mysterious, fearful, and lovely about a new baby in the nine months before he or she is born. The reality is that my dear daughter's tummy has grown over the last eight months. Now there's just about four weeks left, and yesterday, in the waxing of the full moon, her doula painted that tummy with henna in a very old ritual of blessing this new life.

I've seen henna body paintings before -- at hippie fairs, in a Turkish bath, but I'd never thought about how old the tradition is (since the late Bronze age! -- or how classic the design that Rachel selected.

Rachel, the Lotus, and the little one

The image itself of a lotus flower seems to suggest the purity and beauty of the new life that will emerge. In Egyptian culture, the blue lotus in ancient art suggests the power of rebirth. In Buddhist culture, the lotus symbolizes purity, and just as the lotus flower itself rises from the water each morning, the reaching up of spiritual enlightenment. In Hinduism, the gods sit upon an opened lotus, source of all good things that somehow come unspoiled from the murk below. Jewish, Christian and Islamic traditions also use henna to mark protective symbols on hands and feet for transformative events, most popularly weddings.

A beautiful art form, intimate and spiritual, welcomes this new life.

Just for fun, read more about henna at Wiki or about Lotus Flower meanings.

Morning walk in Tucson . . .

We've been in Tucson about a month now and still haven't adjusted to the temperatures, though it's wonderful to be close to my sis. Yesterday morning we strolled out for our morning walk (you have to go early, otherwise it's truly just too hot, a high of 106, and in the upper 90s by 9-ish). There before us on the sidewalk, we spied this tarantula. He was out and about as well, and he was huge. It turns out he was a unique variety. A Blonde Tarantula. Too bad the females tend to eat after mating, that is, they eat the male. But still, both Allen and I broke out in a sweat. Just a few moments later, a couple warned us of a rattler up ahead.

We've been playing around with how to feed a hummingbird and finally have a family (I think) of cactus wrens dropping in throughout the day for bread crumbs (upgraded to bird seed today). The hummingbirds zoom and hover; the cactus wrens hop around and peek in the window, their little beaks open for water.

Our apartment is close to the Santa Catalina mountains, so we go down the hill to my sister's and are treated to views of these magnificent peaks. Monsoon rains bring thunderheads in the late afternoon. Que vista, baby! We're birding a little at local parks. Here's a view of Agua Caliente, a nearby desert oasis. We left the house at 6 am to meet up with local birders and beat the heat. I'm hoping for cooler weather in October. May the rest of your summer be reasonably free of wild weather.