The Kili Initiative 2019 team assembled at 5:55 for pre-dawn calisthenics. JM cancelled the morning jog, because the young people, Fast Steve, and JM were running from our campsite to Loitokitok. The team skipped breakfast to avoid stomach cramps. Johnny, the driver, loaded the backpacks, tents, and equipment onto the tuk-tuk. The ten runners set out a a fast clip. I had been a long distance runner in my youth, but the ranking M’zee or old person I opted for walking the fifteen kilimetres to Loitokitok. Ma’we was my companion.
We took our time through the farmlands. High fences protected the crops from goats and wild animals and Ma’we explained, “These fields are owned by the rich. They are worked by young men without any education other than farming. It is good land.”
The Snows of Kilimanjaro gleamed in the sunlight.
Our trek up the mountain began in four days and I asked, “I’ve never climbed anything so high.”
“It is not so hard until the final four hours. It will be cold and steep. The footing is not good, but you have strong legs, so you should make it.”
“Will you be with me?”
“Every step of the way.”
We reached the main road within an hour.
The small store on the highway was closed for the morning.
The traffic on the two lanes was heavy.
We were back in civilization.
I looked behind me.
“What? Did you forget something?” asked Ma’we, accustomed to my habit of misplacing my possessions.
“No, just thinking of where we had been. It was a good walk.”
“Lolapange,” laughed Ma’we.
“The Maasai Bar.”
“The small school.”
“Everything and now we have another ten kilometres to go. Maybe two hours.”
A local Kenyan bus hoved into street.
Ma’we and I looked at each other.
“We’ll be doing more walking on the mountain. I hate walking on highways.”
Ma’we lifted his hand. The bus stopped for us. It was crowded with passengers. Kenyan music blared from the speakers. I smiled at a young boy. He smiled back. We high-fived and I danced to the music. I liked dancing.
Ten minutes later we arrived in Loitokitok ten minutes.
We had seen the runners on the way here and I asked, “Is it too early for a beer.”
“Not in this town.”
Ma’we knew his way around this town.
His farm was only thirty klicks away.
His loving family tended to his cows.
We walked down an alley.
Loitokitok have many of those.
We ordered Konyagi Cognac and Crest Soda.
No ice.
My friend mixed the drinks.
The cocktail tasted like paradise.
And Ma’we felt the same.
Africa. Kenya. Loitokitok.
Under a equatorial sky.
Just like Adam and Eve.
