The Dead Sea Marathon

                                                Pictured: Fullbright Fellow and Women's Marathon winner, Maya Buchanan, celebrating with Flat Mallory. She finished the full Marathon three minutes after I finished the 1/2 Marathon.  At least I didn't get lapped!

It took me thirty plus hours to get to Amman, Jordan from Detroit, Michigan with layovers in Amsterdam and Paris.  I arrived in Amman one day before the Dead Sea Marathon.  A friend of mine connected me to her cousin, Susan, and I went to dinner with her, her roommate, her mother, and co-worker that evening.  Everything seems to have a purpose because Susan's roommate was running the Dead Sea 10 K the next day.  She gave me a brochure and let me know that everything on the Dead Sea Marathon website was wrong including the start point.  We had a good dinner and I called it an early night because I needed to be at the race registration around 5 am the next morning.

I did not get a good nights sleep before the race.  I had ate something at the restaurant that didn't suit my system.  I was up at least four different time before my alarm went off.  Before I left the hostel, I downed a half a bottle of Pepto and hope that I would be fine during the race.

I was depending on the information on the website which included the fact that I could pick up my race number the day of the race.  When I showed up to the information area, I was told that race number pick up had concluded the day before and I had to make arrangements for someone else to pick up my materials if I wasn't in the country.  I told them what was on their website and they acknowledged that there was a lot of old information from previous years.  The race director told me that I could run in the race but they didn't have any extra race numbers or timing chips.  I didn't care as long as they were going to let me run.

We got bussed out to the starting point which was on the main highway from Amman to the Dead Sea.  It is not the most scenic route until you get down into the water but it is an easy course because it is mainly a slow grade downhill the entire way.  An hour into the race the sun began to get quite hot and I started to feel fatigued from the lack of sleep.  I would of liked to been hitting on all cylinders that day because I could have easily had one of my best times but it all caught up to me near the end of the race.  I mostly walked the last two miles of the 13.1 mile run.  I finished at 2:27 which was disappointing but given my personal circumstances it was the best I could do.

                 Pictured: Me and my shining new "participation" medal showing Flat Mallory the Dead Sea.

I met a few runners at the "after race" festivities that were working for the UN.  I joined them in a beer and we discussed their work and how long they had been in the Middle East.  They invited me to lunch with a few of their friends at a restaurant that over looked the Dead Sea. The group was pretty diverse with six different countries represented during the meal.  A few of them were working in areas that specializedin Iraq so it was interesting getting their opinions on the last few months and the recent plans announced by President Obama. 

                 Pictured: Me crashing the lunch of a number of Jordan-based colleagues working for the UN. Great view of the Dead Sea and Israel.

We Are Going to the Final Four, Babbbbbby!!!!!

I arrived at Detroit Metro, a little before 11am---a mere 7 hours before the big game between MSU and UConn.  My father was picking me up at the airport so I could have lunch with him and my mother.  The only obstacle between me and his car was immigration.  The women who looked at my passport and asked me two questions.  " Where are you coming from?" and "How long were you out of the country?" I take it that the answers, "Nairobi, Kenya." and "Over a year." are red flags because she immediately sent me to have my luggage hand checked.  The two immigration officials doing the hand check were a great hoot.  After answering their questions, the woman kept saying, "That is the craziest thing I have ever heard. Sixteen months?"  The guy was a little bit skeptical.  "What do you do for a living?"  He went through the small backpack first and found one of my business cards that has my title as "world traveler" and my blog site.  He went to the computer and pulled up my site.  From that point on three of just talked about the trip and the line of people behind me became pretty long.  Eventually, a very rude supervisor came over and chastised the guy for taking too long or something.  I felt bad.  It was pretty unprofessional of her to reprimand him in front of me.  I apologized to him after she left but everything went back to stoic professional mode.  No longer the fun questions and witty banter.  Until the end when the supervisor came by, it was my favorite luggage search encounter of the 15 months. And trust me I had plenty of them.

I had lunch with my parents and we made plans for dinner the next day.  My mother was the lucky beneficiary of my friend's generosity.  She was excited that I was at home.  She did mention to me, as only a mother could, that I should stay back instead of finishing the last seven weeks. 

Michael Baird, the ring leader of my return, picked me up at my parents house and we worked our way down to the "D."  We quickly checked into the hotel and made our way to where our friends were hanging out, The Detroit Beer Company.  The funny thing was that the Beer Company was the official host bar for the North Carolina Tar Heels.  As we walked into the bar with our Michigan State gear on, we received many stares and a few choice comments.  I always know how to get a crowd on my side so when a group of guys were hassling us for being in "their bar", I told them "Hey we have a lot in common, we both hate Duke!"  The guys roared in laughter and then they bought me a drink. 

Over the next few hours, wave after wave of friends appeared---fraternity brothers, guys from the dorms, tailgating friends, my sister floor RA.  It is hard to explain the emotions that I felt at being there surrounded by so many friends.  I was a little overwhelmed by seeing everyone at one place. I was excited but at the same time it was so different being home.  At points it was difficult to find things to say, not because I had nothing in common but there was so much going through my mind.  My friend, DJ Hoffman, eventually called with the extra ticket and went over to the stadium to catch up with him, his wife and father-in-law. 

                  Pictured: DJ Hoffman and me at the first game. 

The game was incredible and though we had a solid lead for most of it, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.  It never did and we won the game handily.  I was hugging DJ at the end and tears were coming down my face, we were going to the Final Game.  We didn't stick around for the second game but rather went back to the Beer Company to catch up with everyone.  Of course, everyone was in great spirits and we celebrated late into the night.

The next day was one of relaxation.  Michael's wife, Kelli, came downtown with their baby, Avery, for brunch.  It is amazing what you miss when you are gone.  It was my first time meeting my little "niece" and she was a cutie.  Little Avery has a special place in the lore of Singh Around the World because she was conceived during the kick-off weekend for the trip in the Bahama's at the end of 2007.  Later that evening, I had dinner with my parents, my brother, his girlfriend and my friend, Kim Field.  After dinner, my parents joined a few other friends of mine for a drink.

                   Pictured: Singh Around the World Alum, Avery Baird. 

Monday was finally here.  The Final Game and before I would catch up with my friends, I decided to do some work to prepare myself for my role of consulting when I return.  I had lunch with my friend and former boss, David Egner, at one of my favorite Detroit restaurants, Slows Bar-B-Que.  We got caught up on the trip, nonprofit issues and the upcoming Detroit Mayoral election.  We took a drive around the city and looked at a number of the exciting developments that are occurring in the city despite the economic recession. 

After my lunch meeting, I caught up with a group of friends that were at the Detroiter Bar.  It was the Hubbard/Akers Hall crew that calls themselves "The Family."  We hadn't connected during the first game but it was now complete.  I had seen everyone that was instrumental in bringing me home.  Michael's wife had got us tickets for the Final Game as his early birthday gift and so we went to the game.  Unfortunately, the results were very different from Saturday evening.  North Carolina played out of their mind and soundly defeated us.  Though we were disappointed, we were so proud of how the Spartans had done.  The loss reminded me of the one we had in 1999 against Duke.  I was disappointed but at the same time so excited for next year because we would be one of the top contenders for the championship. I think 2010 will be the year.  Ten years since we last won and in the same city of Indianapolis, how could that go wrong?

It was a special treat to go home for this weekend.  It reminded me how lucky I am to have made so many good friends during my time at Michigan State University.  Coming home for the eighty hours or so that I was there made me excited to come home at the end of May.  I am looking forward to getting back into the mix of things and more importantly catching up with my family and friends.  To all of those that were involved, I want to thank you for making this happen.  It will be one of the highlights of my trip but also of my MSU post-college experiences.

Pictured: Me and Michael Baird at the Final Game.

The Long Journey Home

The Long Journey Home

I arrived at the Nairobi Airport three hours early.  There was no way I was going to miss my flight.  I normally don't care about flights and often get to the airport with enough time to check in and board the flight but this flight was different.  A group of my college friends had pitched in money to fly me home to watch our alma mater, Michigan State University, play in the NCAA Final Four in Detroit, Michigan.  The journey was a thirty-five hour journey including a thirteen hour layover in Amsterdam.

I arrived in Amsterdam around 5 pm and had two options stay at the airport and patiently wait or head into the city.  I decided that I shouldn't waste the time at the airport and I should spend time in the city.  I needed to be in a taxi heading to the airport by 4 am so the big unanswered question was do I get a hotel for the night and risk sleeping through an alarm and missing the flight to Detroit or staying up all night. I decided to play it by ear.

I did a walking tour of the the sights in the center city of Amsterdam.  It is a wonderful city to stroll through and people watch.  As it got dark, I decided that it was safer to stay up then find a hotel room.  That meant that I needed to find a few partners in crime to stay up with me.  I walked by a small pub that claimed it was the smallest bar in downtown Amsterdam.  I figured it was as good of a place than any other to make new friends.  I sat at the bar and ordered a drink.  I started up a conversation with two Germans and found out that they were doing the same thing.  They invited me to put my backpack with their luggage and we agreed to take a taxi to the airport together.  Not bad---thirty minutes and I found my partners in crime.

The pub was pretty happening for a little place.  A group of British who were celebrating a bachelor party came in with their poor groom dressed in drag.  They were followed by a group of American students.  One of the women started to talk with my German friends.  She was loud and for whatever reason started to brag about how much she had traveled.  The three of us were gracious and listened to her stories and then this dialog occurred.

American Student- "I am not like most Americans, I really travel.  I have been in the middle of some dangerous places."

German Guy-"Oh, that is good.  Which places have you been?"

American Student- "I just spent two weeks in Eastern Europe."

 German guy starts laughing.  "Eastern Europe is not dangerous. We go to Eastern Europe all the time."

American student looks at me-- "What are you laughing at?  I am sure I have been more places than you."

Me (still laughing) "I am sure you have but this isn't about me."

American Student- "Oh, you are one of these American's who travels to Amsterdam and thinks you have seen the world."

Me- "Trust me you do not want to go there."

American Student-"Don't tell me not to go there.  How many countries have you been to?"

Me- "It's not about how many countries you have been to."

American Student- "No tell me!'

Me- "If I have been to more countries than you will you leave the bar?"

American Student- "Yes, I will."

Me- I pull out my passport and flip through the pages and say, "Darling, when you travel as much as I do your passport looks like this.  Should we now look at yours?"

American Student- " @#$% you! Let's get out of here."

The people around us who had been listening to the conversation all started laughing.  One of the Germans was actually in tears.  A couple of her friends were trying not to laugh and a few others were looking embarrassed. She stormed out of the bar but only one of her friends went with her.  The others stayed.  Less than thirty minutes later, she returned to the bar but surprisingly she didn't want to talk to me or the Germans. 

 

The last two groups of people I met were Americans. Luckily, they were not as uptight as the American student I had encountered earlier. One was a couple from Los Angeles and the other two were women doing internships in Holland for the summer.  They all agreed to be a part of my team to stay up with me until I had to grab my taxi to the airport.  The guy was impressed that I was heading home for the game and we talked sports for awhile.  One of the women was actually from East Lansing and we knew people in common. 

 

Around 4 am, we said our good byes and I made my way to the airport. In the airport, I put on my Michigan State T-shirt and I boarded my flight.  Eight hours later I was in the Detroit, Michigan, USA.

To be continued.....                 Pictured: The cool group of Americans, who made sure I made my flight back to Detroit.

Quick Visits Before the Unexpected Trip Back Home

The Surprise Trip Home

My last day in Moshi was a Saturday night and a number of people from the hostel were heading out to one of the local clubs.  It was a fun night and while we were dancing the night away, my alma mater was playing in the NCAA Basketball Tournament, one game away from the Big Dance, the Final Four.  Because of the time difference, I wouldn't know the result of the game until the next day and since I was flying to my next stop, I wouldn't know the result until late that evening.  I finally got to the internet the next evening and found out that they had won and were heading to the Final Four, which was being held in my State's biggest city, Detroit. 

My trusty webmaster and friend, Mike Baird, and I traded e-mails back and forth and he asked how much it would cost for me to come home.  The cheapest flight was a thirty-five hour journey from Africa to Detroit and a thirty hour return to the Middle East.  The next price was much more expensive but the flights were under 18 hour each.  Michael was confident that he could get our college friends to pitch in for one of the flights.  He set up a Facebook group and started to approach our college friends. 

It is hard to explain my group of friends from MSU.  We have been tailgating for football games for 19 years together, we travel to away games and many have been with me for most of the last four Final Fours. Within three days, Michael  had enough money to cover the cheaper flight and I was ready to head back to Detroit for the first time in 15 months.  In the end, 19 people pitched in for the flight.  My fraternity brother, DJ Hoffman, got me a hotel room for the weekend and a ticket for the first game.  Michael's wife e-mailed and let me know she got two tickets for the Final Game because she felt good about our chances and she wanted me to go with Michael.  It would be an adventure that wasn't planned or expected but that is what makes Singh Around the World so much fun.  But before I would get to Detroit, I had two more stops.

Mwanza, Tanzania

                  Pictured: A piece of iron work done by Mr. George.

I flew from Moshi to Mwanza because otherwise it was a twenty-three hour bus ride.  A friend of mine from high school had told me her father, George Weber, had been living there for the past fifteen years so I decided to look him up.  He invited me to come over and check out the city, Lake Victoria and some of the community development projects he had done with the church.  Mr. George, as he told me to call him, picked me up at the airport with his friend, Christine.  The two of them had worked on a number of projects together for the church over the past decade.  The three of us had a great dinner at Mr. George's house, as we got acquainted. The next day they took me to look at the projects that they worked on.  They had worked on a number of buildings for local schools, the church and teacher training center. 

Mr. George and I had a number of conversations about politics, the region and religion.  He was very passionate about his beliefs and he wanted to know what I was planning for my return.  I told him about the consulting work with nonprofits but he encouraged me to get back into politics. I enjoyed our conversations and was struck by something he told me.  When I asked if he would ever return to the US to live, he replied, " The people in Mwanza need me.  Well, maybe I need them more."  I had thought my trip would be a good diversion for Mr. George but the reality is that I needed it more.  He challenged my thoughts in a way that hasn't happened in a while.  Before dropping me off at the bus station for my next stop, he gave me a couple of books, including one on the founders of America.

Nairobi, Kenya

The unfortunate downside of my trip back to the states was that I was going to have to cut my trip to Kenya short.  I was looking forward to my visit because I wanted to get a sense of how the country had recovered after last year's post electoral violence.  I was only in town for two days and didn't have enough time to connect with anyone to have the conversation about that sensitive topic.  I did, however, have the chance to visit a photo display that covered the violence after the election.  It was a powerful exhibit but I wanted to know more.  The safe topic that everyone wanted to talk about was Barack Obama. I was told that his father's village was receiving a lot of attention these days.  The roads were being improved and the nearest airport to the village was being upgraded.  People were hoping that he would make Kenya one of his first African stops as President.  They, also, hope that his being a son of a Kenyan will make him more sensitive to issues facing the continent.  We, as a country, do need to reevaluate our polices of trade, foreign aid and regulations with the continent and hopefully they are right, President Obama will have the sensitivity to do it right this time around.

The next stop was a thirty-five hour journey back to US.  To be continued......

The Kili Kids Wrap Up

Kili Kids---A Tough Good Bye

I enjoyed my two weeks volunteering with Kili Kids.  I thought the organization had a number of good things working for them.  They have a great system with an on-site teacher.  At the same time, like any other nonprofit, they have their struggles.  I was working with one of their board members to strengthen their orientation plan.  A few of my fellow volunteers started to compile lists of phrases in Swahili that would be useful for volunteers to know before coming to the site.  I started to look at a few of the Michigan Best Practices for Nonprofits that might be applicable for the group.  I am putting together a full report for their staff by next month.  I hope that my time was useful to them and I will always remember the experience and the kids.

A Hostel With A Mission

When I was looking for accommodation in Moshi, the coordinator at Kili Kids recommended that I stay at Hostel Hoff.  Yes, the hostel is named after David Hasselhoff.  The Hoff should be proud of this place not becasue of the name but because of their mission!  The woman, Sarah, that developed the concept has focused the hostel around independent volunteering.  There is a growing number of for profit companies that have emerged in Africa that coordinate volunteers for a fee.  Unfortunately, many of these companies are not truly connected to the community and the proceeds of their work don't stay with the nonprofits in the region.  Sarah was introduced to Moshi and Tanzania by one of those groups and she felt that there was a better way of connecting people to volunteer opportunities and building the capacity of local nonprofits.  She helps place her hostel guests at volunteer placements at a variety of local nonprofits in Moshi without a fee.  She makes her money through her hostel and organizing tours while the volunteer placement is done without a fee.  A great way to circumvent those for profit companies. I spent two weeks there and really enjoyed the vibe.  Though most of the other guests were in there 20's, there was a bond between us as volunteers. 

A Small World Connection

In July of last year, I met Jessica Boyer and Michael Houdyshell outside of the Red Square in Moscow.  They offered to take a picture of our group after they heard our American accents.  We talked for no more than ten minutes before we went our separate ways.  Surprisingly, Jessica and Michael had Michigan connections and they took my business card with my blog and contact information.  Michael was a professor at Eastern Michigan University.  In January, I received and e-mail from them saying that they were looking on the blog and that they would be in Africa around the same time.  Though we crossed each others paths a few times over the months, we finally met up for a drink in Moshi before they did their hike of Kilimanjaro.  We hope to catch up one more time in Egypt at the end of the month.

Kili Kids: Part II

Kili Kids is Expanding

Based on their current success, the local board and the international fund-raising board has decided to expand the services of Kili Kids.  The overall goal is to eventually work with 100 kids.  They are currently at 24 kids and are being prudent not to grow too fast.  They view their expansion goals to happen over years and not overnight.  They know that any time adding kids will test their systems and they want to be prepared so they will be adding small number of children at periodic points. 

Along with the growth, they have acquired their own land are now developing their buildings for the orphanage and community hall.  It will be a small campus like setting that over time will be able to accommodate their growth in numbers.  It will provide the children with more rooms, bathrooms, classroom space and outdoor areas for them to play. They are looking to incorporate sustainable building principles into the site as well.  They are also looking at ways to incorporate their neighbors by farming part of the land.  It would provide food for the orphanage and the left over could be used by the neighbors or sold at the market to leverage additional resources.   I had the opportunity to visit the site where they are building during my time volunteering.

              Pictured: Sophia (the teacher) and June (a fellow volunteer) have reading time with some of the children.

Kili Kids: Part 1

It is interesting the way life allows things to happen for a reason.  I received an e-mail a number of months ago from Laurie Loughridge-Wargo, a nonprofit fund raiser from the Detroit area.  She had been having lunch with one of my former colleagues and they told her to look up my blog. Laurie had done a similar journey a year or two ago. We traded e-mails for awhile and shared notes about our experiences.  I really wanted to know how she handled the integration back into the US and reengaging in the workforce.  Actually, that is my biggest concern; what it will be like to be back home.  I am looking forward to it but at the same time I know that the experiences that I have had over the past fifteen months have changed me.  Will I be content? Will I be overwhelmed by the pace of life?  How will it be to be in a suit and working again?  I know I will have plenty of blogging material for when I return to the States so stay tuned.

I was looking to do a volunteer assignment in early March and unfortunately the group I was looking at did not pan out.  I remembered that Laurie had worked to help start-up a charity in Tanzania.  Since I was going to be in Tanzania to hike Kilimanjaro, I sent her an e-mail to see if they needed volunteers.  Coincidentally, Laurie informed me that the charity was based in the city of Moshi which is the staging ground for hike to Mount Kilimanjaro.  I filled out the application process and was approved to volunteer.  From a volunteer management perspective, I was impressed that they did background checks on their volunteers.  I know we spent a lot of time in the US helping nonprofits that work with vulnerable populations develop strong policies to provide safeguards for their clients.   As I found out during my time in Moshi, not all the other charities working with children have that type of policy in place.

                 Pictured: Me, Parsley and Andrea working on the Alphabet.  G is for Grizzly Bear (Please insert your own growling and bear like claws for effect.)

I spent two weeks at Kili Kids.  Initially, I was planning on working with the kids in the afternoon developing a new program that provided more structure after their school time.  When I arrived to town, I was told that there was a greater need in the morning working with teacher and other volunteers. There are 24 children that have been orphaned at Kili Kids. Fourteen of them are old enough to go to the public school during the day.  The remaining ten are taught by a teacher on-site.   I spent most of my time working with two of the youngest kids at the orphanage, Andrea and Parsley. Each morning, we worked on our alphabet, numbers, coloring and if they were good there was plenty of play time.  I don't know what to say but those two always brought a smile to my face.  They were mischievous and at times would play off of each other.  My weapon of attack was always the threat to send them to their rooms.  After I would say "Chumbani?(Room in Swahili)," they would straighten up and start their lessons again.  The combination of the teacher and volunteers allowed for real individual attention for the children.  Because of some of their circumstances, it was a good way to help the kids learn at their own pace.

Kili Kids: A Preview

Dear Gentle Reader:

It has been one of the crazier weeks of the past fifteen months so you haven't seen a post from me in close to a week.  I am currently in Amman, Jordan and will be running the Dead Sea Half Marathon tomorrow (Friday) morning.  I will begin to start blogging this weekend so you can learn more about my volunteer experience with Kili Kids and my surprise visit to Michigan.  I leave you with a picture from my volunteer assignment. 

                  Pictured: The teacher at Kili Kids, Sophia, myself with Flat Mallory and some of the children I worked with.

Mt. Kilimanjaro: The Slow Plod to the Summit

"...Compie turned his head and grinned and pointed and there, ahead, all he could see, as wide as all the world, great, high, and unbelievably white in the sun, was the square top of Kilimanjaro. And then he knew that there was where he was going." The Snows of Kilimanjaro--Ernest Hemingway.

Day Three- "And then there was one"
The third day was the toughest of the three days by far.  Most groups had stayed at the last camp to acclimatize for a day but because we were on the budget hike we kept on hiking.  Later on, I would find out that your percentages of reaching the summit increase significantly if you do the hike in six days versus the five days that we were on.  It was another 15 kms of hiking which took me five hours and my partner, Akash, six hours.  We were now at the Kibo huts at an altitude of 4700m. We had lunch and it was time to rest.  The fourth day was technically to start in a few hours.  We would leave the Kibo huts at midnight and start the six hour hike to the summit.

I tried to sleep but it was still the middle of the afternoon and my body was not feeling tired.  Akash was fast a sleep in the bunk next me.  I kept wondering when the altitude sickness would hit.  At Everest Base Camp it was near this altitude that I started to feel ill. Surprisingly, I was doing fine.  Perhaps, the diamox was working or perhaps I had grown some tolerance for this altitude because of my previous hiking trips. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Akash jump out of bed and make a mad dash to the hallway.  I followed him out because I was worried about him and then I saw him start to throw up on himself.  Altitude sickness.  He needed to get down from the mountain and now.  I tried to find my guide but I needed to settle my stomach down.  I have a horrible time when it comes to seeing other people get sick.  I gave Akash a towel and turned away.  Do not get sick.  Do not get sick.  I punched myself in the stomach and raced to find the head guide.  The head guide and one of the porters started Akash quickly down the mountain. Other than a message I received a day later that Akash was fine, I never saw him again.

It was strange waiting for the few hours before we left for the summit.  I chatted with the others in my room.  There were two Spaniards, two Slovenians and an another American.  We were all tired and nervous but couldn't sleep.  The conversation was disjointed and everyone was a little slap happy.  I tried sleeping after dinner but only got to sleep an hour before midnight.  The last things I saw before I went to bed and first thing I saw when I woke up was some graffiti on the bed above me.  Little did I know that Blair Hargett's words would help me get through the last six hours of this brutal hike to the summit.

Day Four- The Long Walk
I bundled up with all the warm clothing I had.  A few minutes after midnight, we started to slow ascent to the top.  The assistant guide, who was left to lead the way when the main guide took Akash back, was very good and supportive.  'Pole, Pole (slowly, slowly)," he would tell me in Swahili.  "This will be a piece of cake. No need to race to the top."  Every step was a chore.  Each breath was tougher in the oxygen depleted air.

In the end, Mt. Kilimanjaro is not about physical strength it is about mental strength.  My mind kept telling me that this was ridiculous.  I was beginning to feel nauseous.  Was it altitude sickness? What am I trying to prove?  It would be so easy to head back down.  After three hours of hiking, it felt like I had been hiking for ten.  Even if I did get to the top, I had six more hours of hiking before me to get down. Each time I had a self defeating thought, I quoted Blair Hargett, "Be Determined!"

I started to count my steps. I needed to stop thinking about how long I had left.  I couldn't look up without feeling ill.  It was a shame because it was full moon and it lit up the mountain.  I had a head lamp but I didn't need to use it.  The moon would be my guide.   My guide told me to watch his feet. I watched my guide and started to march in step with him. When he would step, I would step. I started laughing to myself as I heard in my head, "When I move, you move (just like that?)" I was quite sure that I was probably the only person to summit Kilimanjaro while humming a Ludacris song.

A little after 6:30 in the morning, I made it to the summit (5895m).  As I approached the sign that marks the summit point of Uhuru Peak, I felt a rush of emotions that I didn't expect. It wasn't the toughness of the hike that brought tears to my eyes but the pure beauty that was before me.  I saw the sun slowly break into the horizon. 
I took in the clouds that I stood above. It was the top of the continent.  The hardest climb of my life.  Though the winds were freezing, I didn't seem to notice. Behind me, the glacier glowed as the sun and the moon were out at the same time.

I took pictures with the Spartan Flag and Flat Mallory and began my long descent down.  I hiked for another six hours as I went back to the Horombo Huts, the lodgings from our second day.  It was a good day and I slept like a baby.

Day Five- Homeward Bound
The last day is anti-climatic.  You have a five hour hike to get to the main gates.  It isn't a difficult hike but your muscles ache.  For me the worst was my knees because they got tore up on the way down.  Going down the mountain is always more difficult for me then hiking up.  We passed hikers who were heading up.  We answered their questions with pride because we had accomplished our goals.  My guide would tell them that "it was a piece of cake" and I would truthfully insert "but it is the biggest cake you have ever seen."

Mt. Kilimanjaro: The First Two Days

Day 1- A Slow Beginning
Our group consisted of the guide, an assistant guide, two porters and Akash and myself.  We took a taxi van from Moshi to the National Park Enterence for the Marangu Route.  Since I booked the trip at the last minute, I was hoping to pay my National Park fees at the gate via credit card.  Unfortunately, they needed a special type of debit card and my MSU Federal Credit Union Visa card would not do the trick.  I had only one option and that was to take a ride back to Moshi and get money out of the ATM.  It was a fifty minute ride and I was not looking forward to it. 

Once I got the money out in Tanzanian shillings, I needed to get it transferred into US dollars.  That is right-the Kilimanjaro National Park in Tanzania doesn't take its own currency only US Dollars.  Not a lot of faith in your own government and its monetary policy, huh? Someone should tell them after our recent success with the economy the US dollar might not be a safe bet either.  After a frustrating two and half hour delay, we were off to the races. No- the races wouldn't be a good description, it was a very slow pace.  My hiking partner Akash was very slow.  I tried to slow down and make conversation but after awhile I was getting bored so I picked up the pace and walked by myself for a substantial portion.  I actually prefer some alone time when hiking.  It allows you to enjoy the surroundings and reflect on life. 

The first day hike on the Marangu Route was a 12 km hike which took us about five hours.  We started at the Marangu gate which is at 1980m and ended at the Mandara Huts which was at an altitude of 2700m. It was obvious that I had selected a cheaper hiking firm when dinner came around.  There were groups that were getting four course meals while we were getting very simple food.  In the end it didn't matter because they served us good portions with plenty of carbs.  It was what I was going to need if I was going to carry myself up this mountain.

My hiking partner, Akash, was tired and called it an early night in our cabin.  It was the first time I became nervous for him and his ability to take on Kilimanjaro.  I was fine with the fact that he was a slow hiker but the five hour hike was only seven miles and the gradation up was a slow ascent.  The other days would be steeper and we would be battling with less oxygen as we continued.  This was our easy day.  I stayed up for a few more hours meeting fellow hikers in the mess hall and then retired to the cabin to read for a little bit before falling asleep.

Day 2- I Begin to Worry

Our second day was a little bit longer than the first day.  We end up walking for another six hours and cover about fifteen kilometers before getting to the Horombo Huts.  It was another 1000 meters that we ascended in one day.  I was nervous based on my experience at Everest Base Camp that we were ascending too fast.  In Nepal, they limit the amount of kms you ascend in any day to around 4.  After taking the seminar on altitude sickness, I understand how dangerous it is and how quickly it can sneak up on you.  It doesn't matter how fit you are or your age, altitude sickness can impact anyone because each person reacts to it differently.

I decided to take the altitude sickness medicine, diamox, for the hike. Since it was helpful when I was getting the first stage of it in the Himalayas, I thought I would take it from the beginning of the hike.  I was going to be 800 meters higher on Kilimanjaro and doing it in half the time so I needed whatever extra boost was possible.

After the day's hike, we had dinner in the Horombo Mess Hall.  Akash was not looking good and he had another slow day hiking.  He kept telling my guide he was doing fine but I knew he was hurting.  I pulled him aside and told him about my experience in the Himalayas and how serious altitude sickness really was.  He listened and then meekly told me he was experiencing a headache, the first symptom of altitude sickness.  he talked with the guide and agreed that we would see how tomorrow went and if things got worse, we would make arrangements to get Akash off the mountain.  I had a restless sleep that night.