RTW Leg 98
Day
HKLK-HKEL  382 nm.
Lokichoggio-Eldoret. Desert plains, Lake Turkana, searing Suguta Valley, lush Kenyan Highlands.
ETE:  2.5 Hours.  
Non Terminal Departure and Terminal Arrival

NARRATIVE

After returning from the Sudan, a good shower and a hot meal seem in order.  An evening of talk over the dinner table yields a new acquaintance.  Victoria Brittain (well, any question about that name is met with a cold green stare), reporter for the Guardian, turns out to be an intriguing person.  She has spent good parts of the past year learning more and more about the situation in Sudan and writing reports back home.  But tomorrow morning she wants to follow the trail of a British diplomat who had been stationed in Nairobi and now seems to have disappeared.  She suspects foul play, but needs to make some inquiries of Wolfgang, the proprietor of  the regionally famous Oasis Lodge off Lake Turkana.  It turns out that her destination lies on our route.  And she seems interesting company.

Today we fly back into the Great Rift Valley.  Initially, we run over a desert area that is populated only sparsely by semi-nomadic tribes including the Samburu, the Babra, the Borana, and the fierce Turkana.  Kenya is now undergoing a three-year drought (the worst in 30 years) and the nomadic people are descending on the desert towns to take advantage of international relief efforts. (The drought-crippled economy is fueling new and unique expressions of social tension: rioting school children in Nairobi capture a Tusker beer truck, and drink it dry.)  As each wave of droughts hits the area, fewer and fewer tribesmen make their livelihood on the desert itself.

For navigation, we can use the VOR at Lodwar, a newly-developed but still dusty outpost and the Kenyan police headquarters for the entire northern territories.  Turning abruptly eastward, we descend over Lake Turkana and circle to find the asphalt strip at Loyangalani.  (It can be difficult to spot.)  

The Jade Sea's Jurassic landscape

Lake Turkana (originally Lake Rudolf) is the largest permanent desert lake in the world. (It is hard to get a sense of the drama of seeing a lake in a desert, or even of the lake's size; FS2000 does not do lakes well.)  Called the Jade Sea because of the color of its waters when calm (which allows the algae to float on top), this lake is an extraordinary sight as the shimmering colors of its surface contrast sharply with the barren, lunar landscape of extinct volcanoes and lava beds that surround it.  Lake Turkana extends northwards to the Ethiopian border some 155 miles (250 km) away. It has no outlet, and the water which flows in from the Omo River of Ethiopia evaporates at an amazing 3-4 meters (over 10 feet) per year.  The Omo River cannot keep up and consequently, the lake has receded considerably in the past century. The surrounding landscape is rough (to say the least) and always windy.  But from time to time sudden gales whip down from nearby Mt. Kulal to the lake and, in minutes, turn its glass smooth waters into a violent tempest—making navigation a treacherous enterprise.  This Jurassic-looking setting has revealed a prehistoric legacy; this may well be where humans first walked upright.  In 1888 an Austrian explorer came across human skulls and bones in Turkana, and eighty years later Richard Leakey and his team excavated fossil remains at Koobi Fora, located on a sand spit a few miles north of Loyangalani. Most famously, his colleague Bernard Ngeneo discovered a fragment of a fossilized skull belonging to our direct ancestors who lived and died close to the lake shore about two million years ago.  (Leakey is now a respected leader in Kenyan politics, serving as a sometimes supporter and more often opponent to long-term President Daniel Moi.) Today the lake is home to some 12,000 crocodiles (the world’s largest surviving community), hippos, flamingos, and more than 40 different species of fish.

"Nothing can prepare you for the first sight of the Jade Sea.

The lake stretches to the horizon in a sea of forbidding volcanic desert, seared black and red by ancient forces. The water constantly changes colour as the desert light shines down at different angles, azure, then jade, steel-blue in the morning light, green and dark as the dust clouds roll in, soft turquoise shot through with purple when late afternoon brings short relief from the heat of the Northern Frontier District.

At midday, our thermometer registered 40degC in the shade, at midnight it stood at 28degC. Malicious winds raging at gale force sweep down from Mount Kulal, the 2,300m high peak east of the lake. There is a brief period of calm around dawn, and another in the evening. The shores of the lake are rocky and barren, the beaches strewn with lava under which thousands of scorpions and carpet vipers nest. The lake has the largest population of Nile crocodiles in the world, and the water is harsh and alkaline, barely drinkable.

Dust storms rip through, making cooking an ordeal.  The heat tormented us until we resorted to showering fully clothed, then sat in our steaming garments as the blown dust turned to mud on our faces. That night we lay huddled as the gales blasted down, bending the poles of our rooftop tent and setting the Land Rover rocking.

Turkana is a compelling destination, one of the wildest, most remote places in East Africa, a place of awesome beauty and bewildering contrasts. On the eastern shores, Loiyangalani—"the place of the trees"—is the only oasis, a cluster of round grass huts, a main street with a handful of tin-roofed shacks, a huge wooden cross in the lava rock, a Catholic Mission in the desert, and a line of doum palm trees huddling for survival along the edge of the vaguely sheltering hill.

It's a hell of a place to be." Tony Weaver http://www.go2africa.com/kenya 

As the climate at Turkana can be a bit testing, a visit to Wolfgang's Oasis bar for a cool drink might be in order.  After making her inquiries, our journalist friend gives thanks for the ride and heads north in a Land Rover for Leakey's place.  (For more, see John le Carré's The Constant Gardner.)  We are back on our way in the air.  Here we fly at low altitude to the fix marked SUGUT—this will give a good feel for the drama of Lake Turkana and the Suguta Valley.

A little south of Turkana is a seasonal lake, Logipi, reckoned to be one of the hottest places on earth. Noon temperatures average 72-75degC (167 F!). Volcanic eruptions have taken place in this area in living memory and there was a severe earthquake in 1928.  Sun-seared moonscape.

Then we pass into the forbidding Suguta Valley itself.  It is a land of potent vistas that inspired the artists behind Disney's “Lion King” and the cinematographers of “Out of Africa”.  On the valley floor, the mean annual temperature reaches 129 F (54 C).  The heat makes the valley inhospitable to humans—the local valley people wear few clothes while some prefer to go naked—and the hot springs scattered about the valley floor exacerbate the hellish heat.  The reddish water, the color coming from a local rock, is said to be poisonous while water from the lake is so salty that it serves little purpose.  The flat valley floor is broken here and there by low projections. Its sides are nearly vertical fault scarps so steep in some places that it is practically impossible for anyone, apart from the local bandits, to descend to the valley's floor.  (See below.) 

 On reaching the dramatic rock cliffs marked SUGUT, we turn westward and climb over the Elgeyo Escarpment to the highlands.  Looking back over the Suguta Valley from the escarpment gives a tangible feeling for the immensity of the Great Rift.

 When we crest the heights, reaching the fix labeled CHERA, we can see northward the Cherangani Hills which offer some of the best hiking in Kenya.  Rising to 11,938 ft (3,581 m) the hills continue the western escarpment of the Rift Valley and act as a barrier between the lush highlands around Kitale and the desert of the north.  And, on a clear day, you can see Mt. Elgon straight ahead.  Its crater, about 5 miles in diameter, contains several peaks, of which Wagagai (14,178 feet, 4573 m) is the highest.  The mountain slope is gentle and the outline unimpressive.  This is especially so to the east and southeast as the mountain merges with the Uasin Gishu Plateau, but in the west and northwest spectacular cliffs dominate the plains of eastern Uganda.  We shall pass over Kitale and the surrounding rich farmlands on the way south to our destination.

Eldoret sits at an elevation of 6,857 feet (2212 m) above sea level. Its altitude-derived temperate climate attracted many European settlers during the colonial period and gave the area a bit of a boost. The town "has hardly anything to do or see that couldn't be done or seen in dozens of other highland centres. Life here is pleasantly humdrum, at least on the outside: ordinary occupations and careers are actively pursued; the Uasin Gishu Plateau all around is reliably fertile cereal, vegetable and stock-raising country; wattle plantations provide the tannin for the town's leather industry; the Raymond textile factory—one of the country's biggest—provides employment; and a centre of higher education, Moi University, has proved a shot in the arm for local schools. Eldoret's prosperity is shown clearly enough by the windows of the Eldoret Jewellers on the main road. In short, this is Kenya's "Middletown"; not very prepossessing perhaps, but with its own momentum for development and, you can be reasonably sure, hardly a tour bus in sight." http://travel.roughguides.com/content/6496/index.htm 

In 1996 the government of Kenya opened the major airport at Eldoret, perhaps for political reasons. The nominal idea was to provide a transportation magnet to bring tourists and foreign investment to the area. To some extent the project has met success: Eldoret is the embarkation point for many charter packages taking tourists on African safaris in Kenya’s beautiful parks. Unfortunately for the planners, however, no major scheduled airline has chosen to fly into Eldoret, leaving it a bit of a white elephant. Under tough scrutiny from the World Bank, the government withdrew its financial support and the airport remains only half-completed.  (The airport’s ILS equipment doesn’t seem quite right...take care!) In any case, we shall take advantage of the controversial airport’s facilities, their being better than the dirt strips nearby.

Eldoret is the name of a best-selling running shoe by Nike. This is a tribute to a region that has produced a number of superlative long-distance runners, the most famous of whom is the legendary Kip Keino. (See below.)

Flight planning and narrative by
Mike MacKuen
RTW Pilot #039

ADDITIONAL SCENERY AND ADD-ONS.

None.

Note for RC users.  We have included two *.apl files, one for each leg of the trip.

Intense focus limits schooling

Excerpts.  By Don Doxsie, QUAD-CITY TIMES -- TUESDAY, July 11, 2000
( http://www.bix7.com/kenya/4a_focus.html#  ) 

ELDORET, Kenya -- See if this sounds familiar. There is this sport, that has become associated primarily with the impoverished. Kids do it constantly. It is part of their everyday existence. They can do it almost anywhere anytime because it can be done by just one person without special conditions or fancy equipment. It has come to be viewed as the pathway out of poverty, an avenue to unimagined riches, and as a result it sometimes overwhelms basic educational values. Young athletes, eager to escape their environment, terminate their schooling earlier than they should in order to lunge for the loot. There is a cache of street agents and shoe companies lurking in the background, nudging them in that direction.

It's basketball in the United States, right?

It's also distance running in Kenya.

One generation leads the next.

 "There are a lot of similarities between the two," says Fred Treseler, the director of running promotions for the Fila shoe company. "There also are a lot of similarities between the quality that we have throughout our country in basketball and what they have in Kenya in running. "You could pick a U.S. Olympic basketball team, set it aside, pick another from the remaining players, set it aside, and keep going. You could go four or five teams deep and they clearly would be the best four or five teams in the world. It's the same way with Kenyan distance running. There are that many good runners there."

Treseler likely would not agree with the assertion that companies such as FILA are part of a growing problem on the Kenyan running scene. There are plenty of others who are saying it, however.

"They don't emphasize education," says Kip Keino, the chairman of Kenya's Olympic committee. "They only want you to run. Some of them don't even have insurance."

Keino is not completely against the shoe companies and agents who have targeted Kenya's seemingly bottomless talent pool. He concedes that they have brought fresh money into the country. They have helped to identify talent and develop runners with their camps. "But running has its limit," he says. "Everyone reaches an age where eventually you can no longer compete. You need something else. You need education."

It's easy to see why runners flock to the various running camps set up by FILA, Puma, Adidas, and other companies. Most of the Kenyan runners grew up herding cattle or working in the fields. They come from subsistent farms, laboring on a daily basis, knowing starvation could be as close as the next drought. They grow up wearing second-hand clothes and very often no shoes.  So when someone gives them a nice, warm place to sleep, guarantees them three meals a day, outfits them in a fancy sweatsuit, and hands them a few pairs of new running shoes, it's hard to say "No." With the potential to make huge sums of money on the track and road racing circuits of North America and Europe, the idea of staying in school isn't very attractive. …

See also "Olympic legend longs for better Kenya " ( http://www.bix7.com/kenya/1a_longsforbetter.html )

It's more than a little ironic that the greatest name in Kenya's glorious distance running history wishes his country was known for a little more than that. But that's the way Kipchoge Keino feels.

Keino, now 60, did more than anyone to establish Kenya's legacy as the nation of runners, but he really wishes Kenya could export something a little more useful. "There is a lot to be done," Keino says as he sips tea with visitors in the dining room of his spacious home. "So far, we haven't produced anything in this country. We are not producing anything other than some farm goods."

And runners. Lots of runners.

"What is runners?" Keino says. "The runners, they come and go."

He still runs a little bit, just five or six kilometers two or three times a week. He spends more of his time fretting about his country's athletic success -- which he feels could be even greater than it is -- and worrying about the overall future of his nation and the entire African continent.

Overpopulation, under-education, widespread pestilence and total disregard for the environment threaten as much today as they did a half-century ago when a young Nandi tribesman was learning to run in the hills around the village of Kipsano.

"There is no control," says the tribesman, now old and wise, as he savors one more sip of tea. "The country is beautiful, but we are playing around. We are destroying the environment. We are destroying the future of the country."

Suguta: Valley of Death

Excerpts.  By John Mbaria, The East African.
http://www.nationaudio.com/News/EastAfrican/15102000/index.htm 

Fierce Tukana showing ancient arts now  likely practiced with  an AK-47.

…It is virtually impossible for security personnel to recover stolen cattle once the raiders drive them down into the valley's floor. The raiders, whose local Turkana name is Ngoroko, are said to be from Turkana and West Pokot districts. They are usually armed with semi-automatic machine guns sourced from neighbouring countries.

The raiders are reputed to be better marksmen that than most local security personnel, expertise gained from long years of arms handling, says councillor Isaari Longorkit, whose Kawop ward includes part of the valleys floor.

"Cattle raids" says Cheboi, "are historical." Indeed, stealing of livestock among pastoral communities in general is said to be "normal." Traditional cattle rustling has, however, taken on a new dimension in recent years, with guns replacing spears, clubs and sticks in the herding and protection of livestock. Herders in parts of Samburu District carry guns openly, as do the local vigilantes known as homeguards who are issued guns by the government. …

Cattle rustling in the valley's environs is mostly carried out by people living outside the valley, be they Samburu, Turkana or Pokot. The rustlers, who use the valley as a "transit corridor," are said to meticulously plan each raid. They have a thorough knowledge of the valley and use secret footpaths to drive stolen livestock down the valley and onto its floor. 

Samburu on the move over the desert floor.

After raiding Samburus who live on the eastern side of the valley – the Baragoi area – they move quickly. The idea is to drive the stolen animals right to the edge of the valley before dusk. Once they reach the scarp, they take advantage of the darkness to hide their movement into the valley. Darkness does not hinder them as the know the valley's terrain. They then make sure that they have crossed over to Turkana district before sunrise. 

This effectively cuts off their pursuers as they cannot venture into the valley once night falls and do not know which panya routes to use to reach the valley's floor. The security forces, homeguards and even the Samburu morans who go after the Turkana raiders often come to a dead end at the edge of the valley. In this way, the stolen animals are never recovered. 

The government's efforts to eradicate cattle rustling and general banditry (which include encouraging locals to accept schooling, sensitising the population on the disruptive nature of cattle rustling, and handling stock theft as a crime) have not achieved much. Mr Cheboi, conceded that although the government had offered amnesty to raiders who voluntarily hand over their weapons, the response had been very poor. 

Cattle rustling, and by implication, banditry, in the North Rift of Kenya is an offshoot of the traditional practices of warriorhood or moranism. Moranism is part of the maturing process for every young Samburu. Councillor Longorkit says that, in the Samburu community, a moran who has not participated in a raid, is not taken to be a "real" man. He is shunned by his peers and is the object of ridicule.  "Such a moran is insulted in songs by girls during traditional dances," Longorkit says.  The moran must therefore prove to his peers, and to the general community, that he is a "real" man by taking part in cattle raids.