19,340 feet above sea level is breathtaking. Literally.

Jambo from Moshi, Tanzania! I made it in one piece. My flight arrived the night of June 1st, and I was supposed to meet a shuttle at the airport to take me the 50 km to our hotel to meet the UGA group. Alas, traveling presented one of its usual twists, and I found myself sans shuttle. I hired a local taxi driver named John, and he gave me my first Swahili lesson on the way to the hotel. I was joyfully greeted by Sarah and Addie and then informed that we were beginning our climb the next morning at 8 am, instead of the following day. I had less than 10 hours to unpack, organize, and repack; then we were off. Before I recap the adventure, I'd like to say that climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro was the most mentally and physically challenging thing I've ever done in my life...and it was phenomenal.

Day One: We had an hour bus ride into the national park to reach the base of the mountain. I took pictures of every woman on the street with a basket on her head and every smiling child who chased our bus, while all of my co-climbers laughed. Old news to them. It's amazing how quickly you can integrate into another culture. We registered ourselves and waited for climbing permits and then set off on a 4 hour hike through the rain forest. The constant theme of climbing Mt. Kili is "POLE POLE," which means "slowly" in English. The slower you climb, the less likely you are to suffer from altitude sickness. We only carried day packs with water and our cameras, while the incredible porters lugged up all the gear and food. Every time a porter passed me on the trail with a friendly "Mambo!" and a smile, I felt like I was cheating. The porters are the unsung heroes of all mountaineering. To combat altitude sickness, most of us took Diamox, which has two interesting side effects: tingly fingers and toes (and face, in my case) and an increased need to urinate. We slept at Mandara Hut, and I had to get up 5 times in one night. It was worth it just to look at the stars; I've never seen so many.

Day Two: Our group of 21, our guides, our porters, and my two new Dutch friends who we met at the base of the mountain (both of whom are named Bert), set off for Horombo Hut. About an hour into the hike, we emerged from the forest into a semi-arid landscape...and we caught our first glimpse of the summit. A new enthusiasm took hold of the group when we could suddenly see where we were going. The view from Horombo Hut was unexpected: we were looking down over the clouds. Talk about bizarre. Horombo Hut was by far the most homey; Cabin 48 was where it all went down. B Lee, Addie, Sarah, Connor, Chris, and I jammed out on Chris's portable iPod speakers before bed. We came to an agreement on a theme song of the whole hike: "Pillz" by Gucci Man. Between Diamox, Cipro (for traveller's diarrhea), laxatives, Malarone (anti-Malaria meds), Advil, Midol, Tylenol PM, Albuterol, Benadryl, and any other substance known to the medical community, someone in our group was taking it. It's amazing how quickly you bond in only 6 days. One of our group members (who will remain anonymous) received a standing ovation at lunch for his first BM in 21 days. We were so proud. Kili brings people together.

Day Three: I woke up feeling a little sick, but I felt better after some water and Diamox. The third day was Acclimatization Day; we hiked up in elevation about 1,000 feet to the Zebra Rocks and stayed for a few hours before descending back to Horombo for lunch. After dinner and a spades tournament (congradulations Addie and Dave), I wrapped up in my warm gear and layed under the stars for almost an hour. I've never seen so many in my life. I made my own constellations and reflected on Isaiah 40:26, "He who brings out the starry host by one and calls them each by name. Because of his great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing."

Day Four: We shifted into our third landscape: moon-like desert? We trekked for 7 hours (very "pole pole") up to Kibo Hut, our final stop before summiting. The altitude attacked a few people, but all 21 of us made it to Kibo. (Some don't make it this far.) I forced down a little dinner (I lost my appetite on Day One) before we all crawled into our sleeping bags to nap at 7 pm. I started to feel ill, and I never fell asleep.

Day Five (Kind Of): The porters woke us up at 10:15 pm to begin our death march. We piled on our warm gear, switched on the headlamps, and started upward. I made it approximately 50 yards before I started to black out and dry heave. Looking back, it was comical. I, along with 5 or 6 others, fell out of the pack one by one in the first few minutes. Despite my whining and whimpering, our guide Joseph and one of the porters refused to let me go back down. They stripped off some of my gear (I overheated) and set me back on my feet. I set off "pole pole" toward the lights ahead of me, wondering why they wanted me to die. I caught up fairly quickly and started to feel slightly better. We walked, and we walked, and we walked. For 7 hours. Through the whole night. We walked. And it was freezing. And dark. And we couldn't feel our fingers. Or our toes. Or our faces. And I wanted to cry. Get the picture? We, or at least I, complained about that much. We all brought our iPods to jam out on the endless upward climb, but apparently iPods stop working above 15,000 feet. We all got error messages when we turned them on. Lame, Macintosh. Lame.

At about 6:30 am, just as the sun began to rise, we reached Gillman's Point, which was thought to be the summit for a number of years. From Gillman's, it's a 1.5 hour hike to Uhuru. I didn't even stop for a picture because I knew I'd fall asleep and probably die there. It might have made a good book. We continued on as the sun rose, and I was blown away by the sheer beauty of our surroundings. No camera could capture this. In addition to revealing the landscape, the sun brought a much needed warmth to our fingers and toes. Even once I saw the sign at Uhuru less than 50 yards away, I had to take 3 breaks on the way there. I dropped my book bag and poles once I made it and was greeted by B Lee taking a video of everyone's reaction. Here's how our conversation went on film.
B: Annalise! How does it feel?!
A: I've had to throw up for, like...(attempts to look at watch)
G: (moves the camera to Chris because I'm taking too long)
A: (in the background) 5 hours.
B: (moves the camera back to me)
A: (turns in a circle and looks around) THIS IS AWESOME.
When she asked Sarah how the top was, Sarah said she was hungry. We were delirious. There's no way to internalize or even describe Uhuru. Absolutely breathtaking. Standing on top of the highest point on the entire continent of Africa, looking down on a crystal blue sky over Kenya and Tanzania. Giant ice walls to the left. Low lying snow-filled valleys to the right. Everything below you. You're on the roof of Africa, but talk about humbling. Truly, a once in a lifetime experience. I'll never forget that moment.

It took us about 4 hours to hike back down to Kibo Hut. It was miserable. Enough said. I took a half-hour nap and then we hiked halfway down Kili to home sweet home, Homboro Hut. I've never slept so well in my life.

Day Six: All the way down. When we emerged from the trail, Dr. G offered Sarah and me 10,000 shilingi (roughly $9) to do it again. I told him he couldn't give me 100,000,000 shilingi to do it again. It was unbeatable. We had a celebration champagne toast at dinner. Well deserved, I think.

The group left last night for the US. All alone (but not at all lonely), I decided to play some international relations. The two Dutch Berts, myself, a girl from Canada doing research, a girl from Australia teaching physics, and two other Dutchmen went to a local club to watch a "football" match. We discussed American politics, and more importantly, why Americans don't care about soccer. Made for an interesting evening.

I'm off to the airport! Three days of traveling to reach Ifaty, Madagascar. Kili to Nairobi. Nairobi to Johannesburg. Johannesburg to Tana. Tana to Toliara. Toliara to Ifaty. Headed down from 19,000 feet to sea level, but still on top of thw world...


Annalise