These are just a few of the 100's of pictures I have of the time we spent at Elam! Not only was this one of the situations where boys might be determined to become men, but women might become just a little disgruntled. Josie and I hired camels to take us out of this desert on day #2. We were going to walk across the desert during the cool of the night, braving lions and at the mercy of our Rendille warriors in hopes of getting back to Isiolo. And folks, we WERE serious! I don't think Josie and I are ever going to consider ourselves desert nomads nor pioneer women!
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| Step 1 - We see a bit of mud and water at a place called Elam |
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| Step 2 - the novices get out and survey this first pass. Stephen, our driver says, no problem--get in. We can make it. Indeed we do!!! The land rover slips and slides but we make it!!! We are all happy. |
Strolling through the mud -- not! We had to dig our toes into the mud, deeply, as we never knew if the next step was going to be into a big hole. Then down into the brown, slippery-as-snot, goo we would go. All I could imagine was me, rising from this slimy river, covered in a chocolate slime so thick I couldn't breath my last breath. Actually, I was just as worried about my new $79 Walmart camera which I had just learned to use after Josie instructed me.....what would happen to all my pictures if I went under!
Plus we were gathering an audience of children, who thought we were truly an interesting and funny sight!
It's still early in the day -- about noon, by the shadow on the desert. The thorn three is very short, and I decide it would be good to sit under it as I don't want to be a barbecued potato crisp. Soon others join me. The day wears on. We run through our water. Nobody comes to rescue us. 18 skinny Rendille warriors cannot lift the land rover from the deep deep hole in the mud in which it rests. We need rocks to fill the hole up, and there is nothing here but sand, thorn threes, and camel and goat turds. We sit on the desert floor, we lay on the desert floor, we pace the desert floor. We are stuck on the Golbe Desert. The guys in the truck are afraid we are the police and do not get out of their truck. It is hot out here, and these Ethiopian guys sweat, and then we see a bucket being lowered into the mud, raised into the truck and being drank by the 50 occupants of the truck bed. It's all about survival at this point. Soon they negotiate a cost of 2 goats and they slaughter the goats and 50 guys eat 2 goats to the bones. We sweat, we drink, we burn. The thorn threes are no shelter for us wasungus! The thorn threes are no shelter for the Kenyans either. Everyone is getting burnt, dehydrated and ready to do anything but be trapped in the desert. Words cannot describe the monotony, the stupendous beauty of desert and mountains, and the utter desperation we feel to get out of here.
It's getting dark. We are all exhausted. Lying on the ground. The Rendille chief puts his spear into the sand next to us, and we wonder what is going to happen. Then the chief comes back. He motions us to follow him. We go. ???
We find ourselves lying on skins which the chief had ordered laid onto the desert ground for us to sleep on. We were next to the camels. Across from the goats and to the side of the donkeys. Mmmm good is the smell. It's like a barn but with a breeze. The winds of the desert blow all night long. It actually gets downright cold during the night. I pull the thick housecoat I had packed out of my duffel bag and it is used to cover us up as best as is possible. The camels chew their cuds over us all night. It's a constant mastication, intermingled with a soft hooved shuffling when the camels stand and bound towards us. During the night Tom rolled over onto where I was sleeping and clambered away from the stomping camels in utter fear his life was about to be stamped out by camels. I woke, turned my head to where the feet of my other 5 sardined companions lay, then turn back with my head to where our heads looked like matched boulders on the sand. Josie woke during the night to hear Steven spelling out quietly with his mouth, "L-I-O-N". She thought he was speaking Swahili, only to finally figure out there were lions roaring into the night. Never fear, our Rendille warriors were protecting us (as we were hidden in the wealth of their camels, goats and donkeys).
The Rendille actually most of the water we had left to make us tea. So, we went to bed on the hard desert floor, with an open fire next to us, smelling dung, and experiencing some of the most spectactular hospitality I've ever experienced in my life. The chief is sitting next to Sam here, and his warrior spent the night up--talking quite loudly most of the night--I was amazed at their stamina and volume. They sang their goats to sleep at night when they brought them back into the coral framed by thorn trees. This group of Rendille were among the poorest of poor. They did not even have manyattas. They slept under the canopy of the stars---it was pitch dark until you noticed the twinkly lights above your head. But, it was dark--you didn't leave the coral to go pee behind a bush at this time of the night.
The next day, the chief gave us his thorn tree. It was big enough to allow 6 to 8 people to scrunch together under it. We walked the desert some more. We plotted with a group of the Rendille to take us out of the desert. In the end, about 2:00 p.m., our driver took off walking to the nearest village to see if he could get us some help. About 4:00 p.m., we finally had help. The truck had brought rocks to fill up the holes, they pulled the land rover out, and we continued on to Ngurunit, our next camp. It may seem strange, but it was actually sad for me to shake the hands of the chief and his warriors as we prepared to leave. They had done so much for us--cared so much for us--and it wasn't for tourists. This was God in action in the remotest part of the world. Some more pics follow. The mama which follows cut down pieces of thorn tree to put under the wheel to see if she could free us--of course that didn't work, but her cheerful servanthood was delightful.
Yes, we had our first butchered and roasted goat in Elam....this is Josie with her panga. We had tea in the morning again and goat in the afternoon. It was a situation where we actually ran out of water. Sam got busy hand pumping a water to purify it with a water purifer Sherri had packed. It really did turn the water into drinkable water--wasn't 100% clear, but it was no longer mud.
This is the chief's thorn tree. Sherri's bags were brought with her for the night as well. They removed them from the middle of the river and put them under the thorn tree. :) What a juxtaposition of images!
Seriously, the beauty is incredible. But this water is deceiving in the dusky light. The mountains behind the water housed the lions. The water itself covers up the deep silt, which becomes quicksand like, and became the prison guard of our Toyota Land Rover. At the same time, the muddy water became the host to our Rendille guardians because they needed the water for their camel, donkeys and goats.
