As seen in the Lincoln Park Zoo in Chicago:
As seen in Mikumi National Park in Tanzania:
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Music Credit:
Video #1: Mykonos by the Fleet Foxes
Video #2: Loog by The Clean
Showing posts with label nature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nature. Show all posts
August 4, 2011
August 1, 2011
Adventures in Unexpected Places.
When people think Tanzania, they think safaris, East African wild life, and Zanzibar. Tanzania has more designated wildlife areas than any other country on earth, with one third of its surface area given over to national parks, game and forest reserves and other valuable protected spaces. And within that, there is plenty of room for diversity and adventure in unexpected settings. Frankly, one of our most impressive trips was to Udzungwa Mountains National Park back in February of this year. I realized I never devoted any blog space to this park, but found that I kept coming up short with words to describe our experience. Instead, I shall borrow from the Rough Guide to Tanzania.
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Even with a thesuarus on hand, it's difficult to do justice to the wonder that is Udzungwa Mountains National Park, an immaculate forest-cloaked wilderness whose 1900 square kilometers are among the most biodiverse on earth. Protected as a national park in 1992, the driving rationale was to conserve the catchments on the Kilombero and Great Ruaha rivers, lifeblood of the Selous and of human populations elsewhere. The authorities of course also knew that the area they were protecting was rich in species, but just how rich continues to amaze. Forget about rare bugs and plants, new discoveries of which are two to a penny, Udzungwa still has the habit of turning up mammals hitherto unknown to science, the latest being the world's largest shrew (60cm from tip to toe), and not just a new species but an entirely new genus of monkey, which turned up at the same time it was also found in Kitulo National Park.
Like the Uluguru and Usambara mountains, the Udzungwas are part of the Eastern Arc, a disjointed chain of ancient mountains whose age and isolation, and a steady rain-soaked climate, has allowed its forests to evolve independently from each other, and quite spectacularly. But whereas most of the Eastern Arc's ranges have suffered major environmental damage over the 150 years, Udzungwa is pristine, thanks both to its unusually steep terrain (limiting human interaction to the lowlands) and taboos. Locals around Udzungwa believe the mountain's forests are the abode of ancestral spirits (a belief that crops up elsewhere in Tanzania in places along well-established primate populations), and as such they restricted access to ceremonial purposes, and for burials. To disturb the spirits or the graves, people say, will bring great calamity, and should anyone dare cut down a mitogo tree, they're sure to become a lion's next meal...The result is the only place in East Africa with an unbroken virgin forest canopy from a low-point of 250m above sea-level to over 2km high, covering miombo woodland, bamboo and lowland forest containing trees 50m tall, to montane rainforest up in the clouds.
Given its exceptionally well-preserved forest cover, Udzungwa's wildlife is rich. The park contains Tanzania's widest selection of primates, its 12 species including the recently discovered kipunji monkey, and four endemics: the Sanje crested mangabey, the Iringa (or Uhehe) red colombus, and two species of dwarf galago or bushbaby. Other primates include the thick tailed galago, blue monkey and black and white colobus. Also frequently seen are buffalo. Of elephants, you are most likely to see their droppings or patches of vegetation flattened by portly backsides. Rarer animals include red-legged sun squirrel, the recently rediscovered Lowe's servaline genet (previously seen seventy years ago), the red duiker, Abbot's duiker, Livingston's suni, bush pig, bushbuck, spiny mice, the comical chequered elephant shrew (named after its trunk-like snout), and also recently discovered Philip's Congo shrew and grey-faced sengi - a truly giant elephant shrew (a wispy 700g). Birders are in for a treat too, with possible sightings of rufous-winged sunbirds or Udzungwa partridges, both of them rare endemics. Other endemics include millipedes, a tree frog, over seventy species of spider, a gecko, a skink, and the pygmy bearded chameleon.
Rough Guides concludes: "You would be insane to give this place a miss".
I heartily agree.
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Even with a thesuarus on hand, it's difficult to do justice to the wonder that is Udzungwa Mountains National Park, an immaculate forest-cloaked wilderness whose 1900 square kilometers are among the most biodiverse on earth. Protected as a national park in 1992, the driving rationale was to conserve the catchments on the Kilombero and Great Ruaha rivers, lifeblood of the Selous and of human populations elsewhere. The authorities of course also knew that the area they were protecting was rich in species, but just how rich continues to amaze. Forget about rare bugs and plants, new discoveries of which are two to a penny, Udzungwa still has the habit of turning up mammals hitherto unknown to science, the latest being the world's largest shrew (60cm from tip to toe), and not just a new species but an entirely new genus of monkey, which turned up at the same time it was also found in Kitulo National Park.
Like the Uluguru and Usambara mountains, the Udzungwas are part of the Eastern Arc, a disjointed chain of ancient mountains whose age and isolation, and a steady rain-soaked climate, has allowed its forests to evolve independently from each other, and quite spectacularly. But whereas most of the Eastern Arc's ranges have suffered major environmental damage over the 150 years, Udzungwa is pristine, thanks both to its unusually steep terrain (limiting human interaction to the lowlands) and taboos. Locals around Udzungwa believe the mountain's forests are the abode of ancestral spirits (a belief that crops up elsewhere in Tanzania in places along well-established primate populations), and as such they restricted access to ceremonial purposes, and for burials. To disturb the spirits or the graves, people say, will bring great calamity, and should anyone dare cut down a mitogo tree, they're sure to become a lion's next meal...The result is the only place in East Africa with an unbroken virgin forest canopy from a low-point of 250m above sea-level to over 2km high, covering miombo woodland, bamboo and lowland forest containing trees 50m tall, to montane rainforest up in the clouds.
Given its exceptionally well-preserved forest cover, Udzungwa's wildlife is rich. The park contains Tanzania's widest selection of primates, its 12 species including the recently discovered kipunji monkey, and four endemics: the Sanje crested mangabey, the Iringa (or Uhehe) red colombus, and two species of dwarf galago or bushbaby. Other primates include the thick tailed galago, blue monkey and black and white colobus. Also frequently seen are buffalo. Of elephants, you are most likely to see their droppings or patches of vegetation flattened by portly backsides. Rarer animals include red-legged sun squirrel, the recently rediscovered Lowe's servaline genet (previously seen seventy years ago), the red duiker, Abbot's duiker, Livingston's suni, bush pig, bushbuck, spiny mice, the comical chequered elephant shrew (named after its trunk-like snout), and also recently discovered Philip's Congo shrew and grey-faced sengi - a truly giant elephant shrew (a wispy 700g). Birders are in for a treat too, with possible sightings of rufous-winged sunbirds or Udzungwa partridges, both of them rare endemics. Other endemics include millipedes, a tree frog, over seventy species of spider, a gecko, a skink, and the pygmy bearded chameleon.
Rough Guides concludes: "You would be insane to give this place a miss".
I heartily agree.
July 27, 2011
Lurking Danger(s).
This is the story of Andrei and Matty getting lost. In the bush.
On our most recent road trip to Ruaha National Park we carried three guide books with us. Yes, 3. While this surely sounds like overkill, the thinking was -- we have them, so why not bring them.
En route to the park, according to the uniform advice presented across all 3 guidebooks, we made a quick pit stop in Ruaha's closest neighboring city, Iringa. We reloaded essential supplies before heading off for a couple of days on safari in the park (petrol, drinking water, snacks, and cash...). We noted our exit time (3:30pm) and reset our odometer to clock ourselves headed into the park, we figured we had approximately 3 hours driving time on 120 km of unpaved packed dirt road ahead of us. We feared we were cutting things close if we wanted to get there before dark and set up ourselves to sleep in the park before the park gates close to incoming traffic, but the driving directions appeared to be very straightforward. That is to say, all 3 guidebooks laid out simple, user-friendly directions. At the fork in the road, go either right (the so called never ending road) or go left (through many villages and towns also offering accommodation and meals outside of the park). In either direction, you land squarely at the park HQ and official entry gate. When we hit the first fork in the road, we went right, onto the so called never ending road.
Soon afterwards, we hit another fork in the road. But all 3 guidebooks said there should only be 1 fork in the road?! We went right. Then, doubting ourselves we asked someone by the side of the road and they confirmed - go right to arrive at the park. Another fork in the road. One side clearly would have driven us straight through a village. So we went right. Again, we stopped and asked someone and he confirmed, we were headed in the right direction. Our odometer was just shy of 100km when we hit a T in the road. By no stretch of the imagination could this be called a fork in the road, it was clearly a T. At this point, our skepticism gave way to full blown panic. We could no longer deny we were desperately lost.
I got out of the car and asked for directions. A million and one greetings later with villagers who may or may not have ever seen a white person before -- it was confirmed, we were really close to the park entry gate. Continue up the road this way and you will be there soon. Great. Dark was nearing, but perhaps we could still make it on time.
A brief high - ok we were on the right track afterall, too much unnecessary panic and doubt.
But if there is one lesson I have learned in all of my travels, it is that when it comes to directions people cannot and will not say - "I do not know". They give you the answer they think you are seeking. I could not shake this fear.
We pass a truck several kms up the road - the first passing traffic we had seen in hours. We ask for directions. You are going where? But where are you coming from?! If you continue straight you will arrive into Iringa (the town that we had left 2.5 hours ago...). Suddenly a white Land Cruiser pulls up behind the truck - as per usual with white Land Cruisers, it was loaded with several mzungus (white folks) and a Tanzanian driver. (Chime in the singing angels from on high) Certainly they would know how to direct us.
"Oh Sh*t," he says. Apparently there was no time for further dithering. "Just follow me," directed the Tanzanian driver. And then he took off like a bat out of hell. Our Rav4 could not keep up. The sun was setting (incidentally, this is the most spectacular sunset I have ever seen in all of my life - you know, big Africa sun and all?!) But there was no time to enjoy that, instead we were in a full blown state of panic - we could no longer see our life line out of here.
Just as we began contemplating next steps (could we sleep in the car? who is around these parts? certainly we cannot set up our tent on the road side, right!? are we safe? how much will this cost us?) we arrive at the T intersection we had left many kms ago - and the white Land Cruiser is waiting for us. ThereisaGod! They are all smiling ear to ear. "Um, you guys are seriously lost. In fact, you are about 3 hours away from the Park Gate. It is dark now. We would not recommend driving all that way tonight. We have a camp site just up the road, why dont you stay with us tonight," was the offering. Andrei and I do not even look at each other - yes! we say in unison.
So all is well that ends well. Or so it seems.
Where should we set up our tent? We ask of them. Anywhere is fine, is the reassurance. Great.
As soon as our last stake is struck into the ground, we are then informed that we can expect hippos and crocodiles on one side of us and hyenas on the other side. Oh and also, snakes love this place for some reason - and we have seen spitting cobras and black mambas here just recently. We were left to hope that they prey on the resident rats that were running amok all over the camp grounds, not us.
Let me show you where the toilet is, one white guy offered. It was a basic affair, offering nothing by means of luxury but all the privacy you could ask for. That is, until one girl emerged from the toilet and calmly announced that there are bats living in the toilet. I was surprised, I didnt see them hanging from the thatch roof. Oh no, she says, they are living INSIDE the pit toilet and they fly up at your *ss when you are squatting over the toilet. That announcement officially marked my last visit to the toilet...
But despite the lurking dangers, we could not have been more thankful about this unexpected rescue and hospitality. I wish those guys a lot of good kharma in their future endeavors and adventures.
On our most recent road trip to Ruaha National Park we carried three guide books with us. Yes, 3. While this surely sounds like overkill, the thinking was -- we have them, so why not bring them.
En route to the park, according to the uniform advice presented across all 3 guidebooks, we made a quick pit stop in Ruaha's closest neighboring city, Iringa. We reloaded essential supplies before heading off for a couple of days on safari in the park (petrol, drinking water, snacks, and cash...). We noted our exit time (3:30pm) and reset our odometer to clock ourselves headed into the park, we figured we had approximately 3 hours driving time on 120 km of unpaved packed dirt road ahead of us. We feared we were cutting things close if we wanted to get there before dark and set up ourselves to sleep in the park before the park gates close to incoming traffic, but the driving directions appeared to be very straightforward. That is to say, all 3 guidebooks laid out simple, user-friendly directions. At the fork in the road, go either right (the so called never ending road) or go left (through many villages and towns also offering accommodation and meals outside of the park). In either direction, you land squarely at the park HQ and official entry gate. When we hit the first fork in the road, we went right, onto the so called never ending road.
Soon afterwards, we hit another fork in the road. But all 3 guidebooks said there should only be 1 fork in the road?! We went right. Then, doubting ourselves we asked someone by the side of the road and they confirmed - go right to arrive at the park. Another fork in the road. One side clearly would have driven us straight through a village. So we went right. Again, we stopped and asked someone and he confirmed, we were headed in the right direction. Our odometer was just shy of 100km when we hit a T in the road. By no stretch of the imagination could this be called a fork in the road, it was clearly a T. At this point, our skepticism gave way to full blown panic. We could no longer deny we were desperately lost.
I got out of the car and asked for directions. A million and one greetings later with villagers who may or may not have ever seen a white person before -- it was confirmed, we were really close to the park entry gate. Continue up the road this way and you will be there soon. Great. Dark was nearing, but perhaps we could still make it on time.
A brief high - ok we were on the right track afterall, too much unnecessary panic and doubt.
But if there is one lesson I have learned in all of my travels, it is that when it comes to directions people cannot and will not say - "I do not know". They give you the answer they think you are seeking. I could not shake this fear.
We pass a truck several kms up the road - the first passing traffic we had seen in hours. We ask for directions. You are going where? But where are you coming from?! If you continue straight you will arrive into Iringa (the town that we had left 2.5 hours ago...). Suddenly a white Land Cruiser pulls up behind the truck - as per usual with white Land Cruisers, it was loaded with several mzungus (white folks) and a Tanzanian driver. (Chime in the singing angels from on high) Certainly they would know how to direct us.
"Oh Sh*t," he says. Apparently there was no time for further dithering. "Just follow me," directed the Tanzanian driver. And then he took off like a bat out of hell. Our Rav4 could not keep up. The sun was setting (incidentally, this is the most spectacular sunset I have ever seen in all of my life - you know, big Africa sun and all?!) But there was no time to enjoy that, instead we were in a full blown state of panic - we could no longer see our life line out of here.
Just as we began contemplating next steps (could we sleep in the car? who is around these parts? certainly we cannot set up our tent on the road side, right!? are we safe? how much will this cost us?) we arrive at the T intersection we had left many kms ago - and the white Land Cruiser is waiting for us. ThereisaGod! They are all smiling ear to ear. "Um, you guys are seriously lost. In fact, you are about 3 hours away from the Park Gate. It is dark now. We would not recommend driving all that way tonight. We have a camp site just up the road, why dont you stay with us tonight," was the offering. Andrei and I do not even look at each other - yes! we say in unison.
So all is well that ends well. Or so it seems.
Where should we set up our tent? We ask of them. Anywhere is fine, is the reassurance. Great.
As soon as our last stake is struck into the ground, we are then informed that we can expect hippos and crocodiles on one side of us and hyenas on the other side. Oh and also, snakes love this place for some reason - and we have seen spitting cobras and black mambas here just recently. We were left to hope that they prey on the resident rats that were running amok all over the camp grounds, not us.
Let me show you where the toilet is, one white guy offered. It was a basic affair, offering nothing by means of luxury but all the privacy you could ask for. That is, until one girl emerged from the toilet and calmly announced that there are bats living in the toilet. I was surprised, I didnt see them hanging from the thatch roof. Oh no, she says, they are living INSIDE the pit toilet and they fly up at your *ss when you are squatting over the toilet. That announcement officially marked my last visit to the toilet...
But despite the lurking dangers, we could not have been more thankful about this unexpected rescue and hospitality. I wish those guys a lot of good kharma in their future endeavors and adventures.
June 10, 2011
May 28, 2011
Florida's Fiercest.
This ain't no honey badger, but disconcerting, nonetheless to know that these guys are lurking outside of your thin mesh tent throughout the night.
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Photo Credit: Andrei Sinioukov
Photo Credit: Andrei Sinioukov
May 26, 2011
Better Late Than Never.
As most of you have noticed and commented, this post is very late in coming. Hence the title.
But here is another thing I was late on. Introducing the fierce Honey Badger.
Watch it twice. It only gets better. You will eventually appreciate this for everything it is worth. Enjoy.
But here is another thing I was late on. Introducing the fierce Honey Badger.
Watch it twice. It only gets better. You will eventually appreciate this for everything it is worth. Enjoy.
April 11, 2011
March 18, 2011
Swimmers.
Our new house is big and accordingly there are a lot of big, empty white walls, begging to be filled with color, or something, anything. That was task #1 in the new house - finding a hammering and putting some things on the walls. Luckily, we had recently purchased two new pieces of art that we were keen to display.
The artist is Miguel Costales. He is Spanish. He has a charming accent and adorable dimples to match. He is humble and simple. He exudes a sense of coolness and confidence that kind of makes you want to be friends with him and chat for hours over a beer.
Miguel is inspired by the beach and natural objects. The result is art that feels intimately connected to the Swahili Coast.
We bought two of his swimmers, but continue to be inspired by many of his other water colors and carved objects.
Dar-based folks, some of his pieces are still on sale at Makutano House, otherwise you can contact him directly and perhaps even visit his studio in Mbezi Beach, or else karibu kwetu to enjoy his art.
The artist is Miguel Costales. He is Spanish. He has a charming accent and adorable dimples to match. He is humble and simple. He exudes a sense of coolness and confidence that kind of makes you want to be friends with him and chat for hours over a beer.
February 23, 2011
February 17, 2011
A Hundred Year Event.
It was a big one alright, some say it only happens every 100 years. Perhaps that is just an expression, or perhaps those folks are just alarmist by nature. But either way, there is no denying the severity and magnitude of the recent storm that passed through Dar.
I spent the better part of this week seeking refuge anywhere with electricity, as ours had been out for days on end without any indication of when we could expect it back. While mooching power for my computer and phone at our new favorite hangout, the atmosphere suddenly grew ominous. The sky darkened, the wind picked up, and huge rain drops began to fall with a deafening clatter on the rooftop. And eventually the power went out. Now even my go to electricity refuge had failed me. With approximately 2.5 hours of power left on my lap top, I decided to wait out the storm, in fact, it was kind of nice in an oddly romantic sort of way. Neighboring chatter about "adopting" babies out of rural Tanzanian villages (read: kidnapping them without proper paperwork) eventually prompted me to make a break for it. As I drove home the leading thought on my mind was where and how I would continue work without a reliable power source.
I returned home and it appeared as though our house had been looted by a band of pirates. Branches were down everywhere. Huge trees had fallen. Our gate lighting was knocked down and there was broken glass everywhere. Our guard/gardener greeted me at the door, obviously very energized by this rare storm, I, in turn, joked saying, "this will be a big job for you to clean up." He grinned and hopped to it, despite my rather flippant statement of the obvious.
Frankly, I did not give the storm a second thought, until I joined some friends for dinner last night and our conversation turned to the storm. Apparently, one of the largest boats at the yacht club became unmoored during the storm and crashed into three other boats, causing damage of untold proportions, the repair costs alone would surely surpass our combined income last year.
Then someone mentioned the fishermen. The very fishermen I recently blogged about. It is beyond doubt that many of them died in this storm, between huge swells overturning their tiny boats (if you can even call them that) and winds and rip tides pushing them far beyond paddling reach of Dar's shorelines. The storm came out of the blue, its not like any forward thinking fisherman could have known this or even planned their work day around it. So here again, a reality check that these guys literally risk life and limb braving the Indian Ocean waters to fetch about $3/day. And here I was worried about a power connection for my MacBook lap top.
I spent the better part of this week seeking refuge anywhere with electricity, as ours had been out for days on end without any indication of when we could expect it back. While mooching power for my computer and phone at our new favorite hangout, the atmosphere suddenly grew ominous. The sky darkened, the wind picked up, and huge rain drops began to fall with a deafening clatter on the rooftop. And eventually the power went out. Now even my go to electricity refuge had failed me. With approximately 2.5 hours of power left on my lap top, I decided to wait out the storm, in fact, it was kind of nice in an oddly romantic sort of way. Neighboring chatter about "adopting" babies out of rural Tanzanian villages (read: kidnapping them without proper paperwork) eventually prompted me to make a break for it. As I drove home the leading thought on my mind was where and how I would continue work without a reliable power source.
I returned home and it appeared as though our house had been looted by a band of pirates. Branches were down everywhere. Huge trees had fallen. Our gate lighting was knocked down and there was broken glass everywhere. Our guard/gardener greeted me at the door, obviously very energized by this rare storm, I, in turn, joked saying, "this will be a big job for you to clean up." He grinned and hopped to it, despite my rather flippant statement of the obvious.
Frankly, I did not give the storm a second thought, until I joined some friends for dinner last night and our conversation turned to the storm. Apparently, one of the largest boats at the yacht club became unmoored during the storm and crashed into three other boats, causing damage of untold proportions, the repair costs alone would surely surpass our combined income last year.
Then someone mentioned the fishermen. The very fishermen I recently blogged about. It is beyond doubt that many of them died in this storm, between huge swells overturning their tiny boats (if you can even call them that) and winds and rip tides pushing them far beyond paddling reach of Dar's shorelines. The storm came out of the blue, its not like any forward thinking fisherman could have known this or even planned their work day around it. So here again, a reality check that these guys literally risk life and limb braving the Indian Ocean waters to fetch about $3/day. And here I was worried about a power connection for my MacBook lap top.
January 24, 2011
Circle of Life.
Recently, we had the incredible opportunity to watch a man-influenced miracle of nature. The birth of 76 green turtles on South Beach in Dar es Salaam.
This story begins a very, very long time ago. During the Cretaceous period between 135 – 70 million years ago, also known as the Age of Reptiles, the class Reptilia dominated the land and the sea. Today, only a few species of reptiles live in the sea, including snakes, crocodiles and turtles. All reptiles are cold-blooded and gain their heat from the sun, making the tropics a far more habitable and likely home for them.
Now here is where this story gets a little X-rated. Copulation takes place in the water, with the male mounting onto the female, gripping on to her shoulders with his front flippers, securing her posterior with his long tail. This position may last for over an hour during which time the female is the only one of the two who can actively swim and, from time to time, must carry both up to the surface to breathe. Occasionally, up to five males may climb on top of one female, although one the male on the bottom of the stack is actively mating. There is strength in numbers, I suppose.
A few weeks after mating, the female crawls up a sandy beach and digs a nest, into which she lays a clutch of eggs. Eggs are white, roundish, and smaller than a chicken's egg with a soft, leathery shell. The female excavates the nest with hind flippers, and covers the clutch with sand before returning to the sea. Some reptiles offer parental protection to the eggs and offspring, however turtles abandon their eggs once laid. This, of course, makes them highly vulnerable.
And here is where our involvement in this story begins. Between crawling out of the nest and reaching the sea, turtle hatchlings are vulnerable to predators such as birds and ghost crabs, as well as man. Once in the sea, turtles immediately aim for open waters, but even at sea most are eaten by fish and very few will survive. Only those that reach maturity (about 5% of any given hatch), which takes up to 30 years, return to land and complete their life cycle. Sea turtles have been exploited by man for thousands of years. Parts have been used to make combs and decorative ornaments. The eggs of turtles are a favorite food item, as is the flesh of adults. All turtle species are on the endangered species list, thus no international trade of turtles of their products is permitted.
Given their precariously low survival rates, a local NGO - Sea Sense - conducts conservation activities (including paying local fishermen a small sum to identify and protect the clutch of eggs immediately after the female returns to the beach) to ensure that most of the sea turtles make it to the sea once they hatch, under normal circumstances 60% of the hatch would be eaten by predators on the beach. We ushered 100% of this hatch to safety, for the time being anyway...
Interestingly, the temperature of the nest determines the sex of the hatchlings. For example, in the nests of the green turtle, temperature above 27C result in females. Oh, also, the green turtle gets its name from the thin layer of mucus like fat that is between its shell and its body.
The limbs of sea turtles are flattened and modified into flippers, which needless to say are well adapted for swimming. Man, these little guys swam like hell once they reached the water from their hatching site. It was truly a site to behold.
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