Day #2, January 25, 2011

It's only around 4 p.m. and we are already in the 2nd camp, Shira.



It was a shorter day than yesterday, though I cannot say it was easy. I got very tired before lunch and was really happy when our assistant guide Attily offered to carry my backpack. I packed it ligher this morning, but having carried it for several hours I started feeling as if it was very heavy... It's probably too early to talk about acclimatization, but I must admit that I do feel a bit strange in my head now and then. It's not a headache, but some sort of heaviness... Should I pack my head ligher as well?

We are at 12,500 ft (3,810 m) and because it's still early and the weather allows, we are going to go up higher for an hour hike to help us get used to the increasing altitude. I started taking Diamox this morning and right now my face tingles all over. My palms tingle too and my feet tingled earlier today. Such a funny sensation! At least they don't jingle, otherwise I would be a good catch for Christmas:)


This morning I did see Kilimanjaro very clearly from our camp.



But as we continued trekking, the mountain disappeared and it was hard to tell where we were anymore. Yesterday we camped at the edge of Tropical Forest and Moorland. Right now we are based closer to the end of Moorland zone. If I am not mistaken, tomorrow we'll enter into Heath...

It's very sunny outside right now and I am sitting in my tent making this entry. I feel drops of rain knocking at the top. I wonder if it will really rain or will just be a tease?

7 guys in my group are very helpful. They watch out for me and help to climb in parts where it's a bit challenging by giving me a hand or waiting for me. One of them agreed to carry my small toiletry bag. Unfortunately, it didn't fit into my duffel bag and it would make my day pack even heavier... I am so very grateful to all of them! Mostly I feel very self-sufficient and as if I've been doing something like this my entire life - flying to Africa by myself, joining a group of unknown people, trekking for 5-7 hours every day, camping. Everything feels right and gives me a lot of peace.

It's interesting that throughout the day I barely think of what exactly I am doing. Had I not known that I am climbing Kilimanjaro, I would consider it as a hike in the forest and climbing up rocks now and then...

When we were having warm pop-corn and tea in the camp upon arrival, very strange birds visited us. They were pretty large, black with a white collar.



Yet again, they reminded me of the way Kilimanjaro looks. So, first it's a dark silhouette at night resembling a shy lady, then a killer whale, now these crows. It's as if the mountain shows herself to me in various shapes and forms. Though I am still not aware why I am here. As usually, I think and over-analyse things too much, but there must be some reasoning behind all of this!
1. Knowing that I am climbing a mountain, but not feeling that I am doing it
2. Not seeing the real mountain most of the time, but having recurring images reminding me of it
3. Feeling completely at peace and happy as if I am doing exactly the right thing (while doing something that I've never done before)

Let's see if something changes tomorrow:) My intention is to have a beautiful day as well!

Have to go for an hour hike right now. It must be 4 p.m. already and I can see the guys from my group getting ready to leave. I also look forward to the sunset tonight, it's so beautiful here!

Day #1, January 24, 2011

I am in the tent at the first camp, which is called Machame and the altitude here is 9,350 ft (2,850 m). I am happy I have my own tent, which allows me lots of privacy. It's so hard to be writing, because it's already pitch dark and my headlamp is the only source of light... I can see my words jumping all over the page! I guess I should stop moving my head and the light will be more stable:)

By the way, last night I was lucky I was able to set my alarm clock on the phone correctly. I was unsure of Tanzanian time, so I walked straight into a little shop on the territory of the hotel and asked a lady at the counter if she knew the time. She pointed to the clock on the wall, which showed 1:30. I walked out with a bit of a doubt and bumped into a girl from the reception. "Excuse me, do you know what time it is?" I asked her. "Yes, look up here", and she pointed to the wall with another clock showing 12:30. "Do you think this clock is accurate, because I just saw another clock showing 1:30?" "Yes, yes, it's correct" - she smiled touching my shoulder in a very sisterly manner. I decided to risk and set my watch for 12:30 - it gave me an extra hour sleep so who was I to argue. So, it was 12:30 a.m. last night when I went to sleep. After waking at 6:30am, and the long first day trek up the mountain, I am very sleepy right now, even though it's not even 9 p.m. yet!

Alarm clock woke me up at 6:30 a.m., I got up from under the net, which did save me from mosquitoes. I took my last shower for the next 7 days. I enjoyed it very much, even though the water was cold, because I couldn't figure out how to turn on the heater to make it hot:) Then I dressed for the 1st day of trekking in the 1st climate zone of Kilimanjaro, which is called Rain Forest and went for breakfast.

At the table I ended up sitting in front of a girl named Maria, who just completed her climb and willingly shared her experience with me. She explained how everything works, told me where to rent the sleeping bag and poles on territory of the hotel, where there is a safe to leave valuables, where to weigh my duffel bag to make sure it's not more than 33 lbs (15 kg) and gave me some other organizational tips. She was really very sweet and helpful. I was all set and ready to go with my thoroughly packed duffel bag, sleeping bag, a bit heavier than expected daypack and poles. I would come up and talk to Antonio and Ernesto from Puerto Rico, the guys from my climbing group I met the night before, asking them some questions and wondering who else is in our group. 10 or 15 minutes before our bus left the hotel, we met with Dave from Missouri, Al and Julian from Britain, Phil from Arizona and Robert from Kenya. Maria was also there and it felt bitter-sweet to say good bye to my first friend I met in Tanzania. She had a chance to talk to the guys from my group and told me that I was very lucky. I had exactly the same thought! The moment I saw my whole group together I felt that we would make a great team:) Our chief guide Theo came up and introduced himself and, leaving all our material valuables behind in a safe place in Spinglands hotel, we embarked on a journey of 37 miles (62 km) with the elevation of 13,961 ft. (4,255 m)

As we were driving on the bus I was trying to catch a glimpse of Mount Kilimanjaro, but it was nowhere to be seen. There were clouds of dust flying up away from the wheels and clouds in the sky looking down at those who will be attempting to reach beyond them in just a few days. About an hour later we were at Machame gate and started the climb of the mountain which we hadn't even seen yet.

There was only one moment when she showed her face. It resembled a killer whale peacefully floating at a distance. Then she disappeared again. I wonder if it means anything? Besides, I am still trying to understand why I am climbing this evasive mountain...


Today has been relatively easy and the altitude is not very high either. We hiked for about 6 or 7 hours (it's hard to tell, because I don't have a watch). My day pack turned out to be heavier than I thought and after a couple of hours my back started hurting. It was not too bad and I am sure I would still be able to get to the camp, but Robert, one of the guys in my group, was very kind and offered to exchange our backpacks. His turned out to be much lighter and I was very grateful for his help. Obviously, men don't carry as much stuff with them as women do:)

It started raining as we were approaching the camp. I didn't put on the rain jacket, because the rain was very light. As it was dripping on my face, I was thinking that I won't melt and it also reminded me of the time I would hike in the rain in Griffith Park. I've always liked walking in the rain! My shoes got covered with mud and therefore felt heavier. In the end everything got a little bit wet, but not unbearably so. When we accomodated ourselves in the tents, I was going to put on tennis shoes I brought to walk in the camp. Then I decided to keep the hiking boots on. It's enough to have 1 pair of boots completely dirty, when you don't have a chance to clean them.

Right before dinner our group gathered in the "dining tent" for the first time. There was a table and 8 chairs. We had a snack of warm pop-corn and tea, which tasted really good. It was nice to sit, relax and socialize before dinner, which turned out to be very delicious and nutricious. One of the things I am really appreciative for, is that we don't have to set up tents or cook during our climb. Everything is sort of taken care of, and we just need to walk and adjust to increasing altitude. I think I can definitely do this!

Tomorrow is a new beautiful day:)

Perseverance

It's raining in LA today... It started raining last night and as I was falling asleep the sound of the rain drops on the window felt like a message in Morse code, calming me down and assuring that everything will be okay. The air this morning smelled fresh and vulnerable. This is exactly how I feel.

So, yesterday I tried to blog about my second day of Kilimanjaro climb and just couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead I looked at the pictures and thought it would be nice if I had more of them. I read my journal and started recollecting everything in detail, which seemed almost too technical and without any philosophical speculations. Then I looked at the list of all the names and contact info of 7 guys from my climbing group and had an urge to get in touch with them and ask them how they are doing. At that moment 7 days of the climb and my group seemed more like some sort of an illusion. I clearly remember that it all happened and I have evidence that it did, but there is no way of returning to it. It is similar to a loss when someone dies...

I've been resisting to wash some of the clothes from the climb for more than a week now. There are a couple of things which require gentle wash and I decided not to take them to the laundry, and rather wash them with my hands... I've been feeling very weird about doing it, especially when I think about my ski pants which protected me so well from cold and wind during the ascent to the summit. I remember taking them off at Barafu camp, where we got back after reaching summit and where we spent the day before. They were all covered in dust and looked grey instead of their usual black color. I turned them inside out and packed in a couple of plastic bags not to spread the dust all over my duffel bag. They are still in those plastic bags, and even a thought of taking them out and washing brings tears to my eyes...

The climb ended on January 30th and then I had 5 more days of safari. I arrived from Tanzania on February 5th and immediately plunged into meeting with friends, doing Spiritual Counseling and preparing for school weekend. Climbing Kilimanjaro was a part of my 2nd year project at the University of Santa Monica, where I am in my second year studying for an M.A. in Spiritual Psychology. On Friday night I shared my experience with the class, which is comprised of more than 200 students. I felt my heart being very open and full of gratitude to my teachers and every single student, whose presence was so tangible during the climb. My share felt more like a real completion of the climb. It was the exclamation mark at the end of a sentence I've been writing for the past 4 months. In every word in this sentence I put so much effort, joy and love. I literally sweated it out, bonded with it, got attached to it. I completed the sentence and stepped into the void.

It didn't feel like the void at first. On Saturday morning I woke up and realized I had some ennui. As the day went by and I got busy with my school, life seemed exciting again. On Monday I let myself be mellow and mostly rested. Yesterday I couldn't bring myself to do anything either. Today I realized that my ennui is not gone, that it's sitting on its usual place on the floor in front of my computer screen and finally I have to face it.

ENNUI. In Merriam-Webster Dictionary the definition of "ennui" is "a feeling of weariness and dissatisfaction : boredom", "the kind of ennui that comes from having too much time on one's hands and too little will to find something productive to do". The origin of "ennui" is French, from Old French "enui" - annoyance, from "enuier" to "vex", from Late Latin "inodiare" to make loathsome. Synonyms are: blahs, doldrums, boredom, listlessness, restlessness, tedium, weariness.

I've experienced ennui since I can remember myself. It envades my life in waves. I can always expect it after some kind of an adventure or a meeting with friends, an amazing book I just read or a film that touched me - anything that kept my intellect stimulated and my emotions high. It reminds me of a fire which is fading out and doesn't give any more warmth. The coldness sucks me in and makes me very helpless and weak. It's very uncomfortable and feels like a waste of time.

One of the great expectations I had from Kilimanjaro is that it will allow me to discipline myself. I was convinced that having a training routine for 3 months will be essential for my body getting used to excercise and my mind adopting a structure it can follow to be productive. Ooooops, what a surprise! Like all great expectations, this one fell through.... And it's hard, it's really hard to deal with ennui again!

All that matters right now is that I joined the dark clouds in the sky and poured all my thoughts out together with the rain. My determination to be here for myself is more important than anything else. I've noticed that throughout these days of ennui, for the first time in my life I've been remarkably gentle with myself. And even though my expectation of being disciplined didn't come true, I've gained something else. My spirit has learned to communicate with my body in a more profound way and my body knows how to listen and follow my spirit. The spirit always perseveres.

"My intention is to be strong. My intention is to feel well. My intention is to be safe. My intention is to reach the summit" - the memory of setting my intentions during the final ascend starts tingling my heart, just like Diamox pills tingled in my hands, feet and face when helping me to acclimatize to the high altitude. "Pole, pole" - "Slowly, slowly" - this is how you get to the top of Kilimanjaro. And this is exactly how I need to get back to living and enjoying my everyday life without having to train or climb the mountain. My intention is to continue to be gentle with myself, like the gentle wash I am going to do with my dusty ski pants which served me so well when I needed them.

"Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose" - these words of Yoda I read yesterday on the page of one of my Facebook friends. My ennui is merely a fear of losing the taste of adventure and excitement in my life, a fear of being buried under the dust of uneventful days, a fear of mediocre waste of time. But guess what: it's all an illusion. I cannot possibly lose what I AM. Because I AM the Adventure, I AM the Excitement, I AM the Spontaneity, I AM the Taste of my life, whether it is spicy, sweet, sour, salty, tart or any other. And I am so happy to be able to share it openely with other people!

Sometimes one just needs more time to acclimatize to low altitude before gaining it high again:)

Day #0 (Arrival), January 22-23, 2011

So, here I am in Tanzania! Laying on a bed in my room in Springlands hotel in Moshi. A fan is circulating the air around, restlessly moving the mosquito net hanging from the ceiling. It's past 1 a.m. and I arrived in Kilimanjaro International airport at 9:30 p.m.

It took me about 25 hours to get here, leaving Los Angeles at 8:30 a.m. on January 22, making a connection in NY to fly to Amsterdam and then another 8 hour flight from Amsterdam to Kilimanjaro. I was sleeping most of the time, so the trip seemed easy.

The night before my departure I only got 1 hour of sleep, finishing up my packing and making sure all the details are taken care of. I dozed off around 3:30 a.m. and it felt as if I jumped into a black hole. It was very dark, quiet and warm. The sound of my alarm clock at 4:30 a.m. brought me back to my room with a packed duffel bag, backpack and another smaller bag I was going to take with me on the plane. Ski pants, sweater, fur vest and hiking boots were patiently waiting to be put on. I didn't have to worry if my duffel bag gets lost or delayed during the flight. I was wearing or taking with me on board all the necessary things for the climb.

As I was going through the security check at LAX, one of the guards asked me if I was flying to Minnessota in those ski pants. "No, I am flying to Tanzania where I am going to climb Kilimanjaro" - I responded with a smile, realizing that I am truly on my way. He looked at me in bewilderment and let me through. It was 7 a.m. and I had enough time to call my brother and my Mom in Moscow. I never told my Mom that I was going to Tanzania all by myself. I told her that I was going skiing with a friend and decided to tell the truth when I get back. It felt so much nicer not having to worry if my Mom will have a heart attack worrying about me:)

Quiet, uneventful and peaceful flights from Los Angeles to New York and from New York to Amsterdam. It was morning of January 23rd in Amsterdam and I had about 3 hours of layover. When I got to my departure gate to Kilimanjaro, I instantly spotted several people with backpacks wearing Asolo hiking boots. I felt like I belonged to some private club where members are identified by the attire. We were all people of different ages, nationalities, gender, background, etc., though we were all on the same mission. There was no need to talk to each other or discuss anything. We knew exactly what we were doing separately, but the feeling of togetherness and belonging was sweetly spreading in my chest.

I fell asleep right after a delicious meal (that's what they say on each meal box at KLM) and woke up just as we were about to land. It was dark and my window was not showing any specific African features. I was surprised to see so many city lights. For some reason I was convinced that electricity was a rare commodity in Africa. I guess I should just watch TV more often:)

Once we got out of the plane and started walking towards the airport building, I was catching the wind with my face, closing my eyes and as if trying to swallow it with my mouth. It was very fresh, cool and had a delicate flower scent. It was the opposite of dusty, still and melting in the heat air that I imagined. I bought my visa for $100 and walked out to the baggage area. I was happy to see carts and even happier to get my duffel bag, which was neither delayed nor lost. I gently pushed my way to the exit from the small, but very organized and neat Kilimanjaro airport. I immediately met a representative from Zara Tours with two guys from my climbing group, who seemed very sweet. We waited a bit longer for other people heading to the same hotel and when the bus was full and the bags secured on the roof, we started driving.

You know how it is, to arrive in a country where you've never been before and how much you want to see everything you can see. For me it all starts with looking from the window:) It was almost 10 p.m. and darkness was hiding my first Tanzanian views. I could still see trees on each side of the road, people walking or riding a bike, the stars... And then against the dark body of the sky I suddenly saw an even darker silhouette of Mount Kilimanjaro... She was like a shy lady, barely noticeable, very timid and yet grandiose. I was looking in her direction over and over, feeling an excitement rising in my chest and my heart beating faster. Exactly the feeling you have when you haven't seen your beloved one for a long time and the meeting is finally very close. "Why? Why did you ask me to come here? Do I know you?" - I asked the Mountain. She looked at me quietly and it was the only answer I received.

"After you've travelled for 25 hours, brushing teeth seems unnecessary" - was a remark of a middle-aged woman on the last flight. I couldn't agree more! Though I just brushed my teeth before going to bed and should probably finish writing and go to sleep. I have less than 5 hours left before I wake up, take a shower, go for breakfast and then.... Actually, I am not thinking about what happens then. Right now all I have to think is about getting some good 5-hour sleep. Let's see if the net above my bed will protect me from sneaky mosquitos!

I am back!

I am back home, safe and sound:) And cannot wait to get back to my blogging! I was writing a journal every day of Kilimanjaro climb and will be transfering all my entries into this blog during the coming month. So, in blog-time, my 7-day climb will be completed some time in March 2011.

I am very excited about re-living my experience once again through writing with the help of my journal notes and memory. I am happy to be able to share my feelings, thoughts and things I learnt with other people, who are climbing their own mountain, literally or figuratively:)

"And when you reach the top of the mountain, keep on climbing."