the great spider hunt

This afternoon I was excited and eager to finally get out into the bush for a proper walk. In the Mara you are technically not allowed to leave the vehicle, so naturally bush walking is frowned upon. Outside of the Mara all bets are off. As long as you have a Kenyan Wildlife Service Ranger with you – i.e. a man with a shotgun – you are free to roam as far as your good sense will take you. I went out with a ranger, a Masai warrior with a spear, a tracker, and another couple who were staying at the lodge. Rather early on we chanced upon some small holes in the ground that appeared perfectly drilled and lined with silk. This I discovered was the lair of the baboon spider, an African sub-family of the tarantula. It quite quickly became – let me add – a minor obsession. We went from hole to hole to hole attempting to lure Harpactirinae out of her secret spot in vain. It was impossible to walk more than a few feet without seeing another hole here, another hole there: all tempting, all abandoned. After close to a dozen false starts our tracker discovered an arachnid eager to indulge this odd quarry of reluctant spider hunters. A few blades of grass and a dollop of saliva were all it took to get her out. Apparently the nocturnal baboon spider lies in wait all day, guarding its sac of eggs which lie at the bottom. The promise of food, however – even in daylight – is too good for the hungry spider to pass up.

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at home with the masai

A large proportion of the Masai live, for the most part, traditionally. Which means despite the middling efforts of the Kenyan government to integrate the Masai, they choose to eschew the trappings of modern culture and its relative proximity. Life revolves around two things: cattle and village life. Cattle are everything to the Masai:  a source of meat, milk, and blood; a system of currency and hierarchy. A man without cattle is a man without position in society – and one who lacks the ability to feed his family. When the Masai come into money, they buy more cattle; when the drought wipes out their herd, they’ll steal another village’s cattle. Culturally, it’s a crippling cycle because it leaves no room for error – there can be no long-range planning when life is lived entirely in the here and now.  To an outsider, like myself, this might be read as poverty but the Masai do not think of themselves as poor, as lacking – it is simply how it has always been and shall be. The community is small and tightly knit – no more than a dozen families inhabit this particular village, which is ringed by a circular twig fence and gated in the traditional style. Simple abodes line the perimeter, reserving the majority of the area in the center for cattle.  (I cannot tell if the ground is soil or dung or a mixture of both.) Francis, above, is the son of the village chief and he invites me into his home, which is a simple two-room hut like all the others: one room for the baby animals and another for the family. In the family’s sleeping area there is a small cooking area, too, with an open hole to the roof, providing some daylight as well as ventilation. It is dark and claustrophobic and it smells to high heaven because the Masai use a mix of twigs and cow dung as their primary building material. There are no sanitary facilities.  There is no running water. By Western standards there is no sign of anything resembling progress – and nobody here seems to mind.

 

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video: jump

Visiting a Masai village today I was greeted by a group of men who couldn’t help but jump for joy.

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experiments in panorama

Without a professional camera it’s well nigh impossible to capture the breadth and scope of Africa’s imposing terrain. So instead I attempted a few experiments in panoramic photography utilizing the Photosynth software for iPhone – free from Microsoft, by the way. Be sure to click each image individually, then click it again for a vastly greater, if somewhat skewed, detail – and enjoy the view.

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on the prowl

Lions are fascinating creatures. One minute they’re lazing in the grass and the next they’re off on the prowl – before deciding a nap is time better spent. We followed this pair of females for almost an hour today. It seemed at the time that they might be hot on the trail of something edible. (I won’t lie: I was hoping for a high-speed pursuit followed by a view to a kill.) Turns out “the hunt” was just a search for a better patch of shade: after a burst of acutely measured activity these two lady lions cooled their paws in the grass and settled in for a snooze.

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survivors breakfast

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video: soft landing

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video: better than lion king

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perspectives: above africa

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in the distance

If you think going on safari is pricey – and trust me, it is – you should tack on a balloon ride, too. (In for a penny, in for a pound, no?) While I wouldn’t call it extortionate, it’s definitely an extravagance. And an exorbitant one at that. Yet it’s also … extraordinary. If forced to pick one place on the planet where the thought of dumping a month’s rent for a balloon ride would be money well spent, this would be that place. On the ground the Mara is fascinating. From the vantage point of a wicker basket tethered to a giant balloon it’s positively epic.

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by dawn’s early light

 

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a quorum of curious buffalo

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endless horizon

The horizon on the plains of the Masai Mara almost defies comparison. It spreads across your field of vision in soft focus; spotted with scrub and seemingly endless, with green hills silent in silhouette. (Aptly, mara means spotted in the Maasai language) It makes one contemplative. This moment was a rare sight on a safari overrun with wildlife: an empty plain.

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big bird


I think because the only time I can recall seeing an ostrich in anything resembling a native environment was on a farm in Aruba where they were being raised for meat, the sight of one crossing my field of vision, close to a family of Thomson’s gazelle and assorted wildebeest, seemed as odd as if I’d seen one strutting down the West Side Highway. Even more shocking was the bright pink color of this particular gentleman’s legs and neck. Nothing to be alarmed about, however; I learned that a male in heat turns pink to stand out against the green of the plains, allowing potential partners to easily spot him, like a one-man red light district. Once a female signals even passing interest, Pinky will begin an elaborate courtship dance in an effort to woo a mate. And in a relationship story all too common, once he’s had his way with her he’ll go back to being his boring old black and white self.

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appropriately themed reading matter

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