Day 1 July 31, 2016
Sunglasses and Advil
I wake up at five am with a mix of anxiety and the inclination of a sore throat. I am having trouble breathing out of my nose. Of course, the timing is impecaable. I violently blow my nose hoping not to disturb my sleeping roommate, as we are sharing a queen size bed draped in a pink mosquito net. The curtains have pictures of teddy bears all over it. Hostels in Tanzania will surely take you back to your childhood bedroom, making the experience all the more quirky and amazing.
After spending two weeks frolicking around Tanzania doing volunteer work and adventures, I found the country to be one of exuberayting happiness and hilarity, with no person or place the same. With countless interactions with people and travel, I was sure to use hand sanitizer as if it was the only elixir to keep my hands from falling off and to ingest an obscene amount of Emergen-C, yet I still contracted some sort of head cold from my past roommates. Regardless of my oncoming congested shit storm, I am feeling excited and antsy to finally be on the mountain. A year of prepping, training, and worry has finally led up to this day. My roommate wakes up to the sound of my blowing and we both silently start triple checking our duffle bags and backpacks. I can feel the nerves oozing from her body. Kate is my roommate and has been since I arrived in Tanzania. Australian and funny as hell, Kate and I hit if off immediately. We spent most of our time thinking of things to send to each other in care packages that aren't available in each other's home country. The fact that she has never had hot sauce became a real problem with me. She also put up with me trying to imitate her accent. Thanks Kate. Kate fit well with me and my best friend Lexi, whom was the person who ultimately convinced me to embark on this trip. We were like the three amigos the entire trip, and now our grand finale is tackling the great Kilimanjaro together.
Up early and ready to go, it is time for our last meal. My fellow group of eight all sit around a table wide eyed. “Did everyone take their altitude pills?”, “Should we still take our malaria pills?” la la la, lets just GO! Turns out our ride got in an accident on the way to pick us up, which is not surprising considering I took part in two minor car accidents during my 15 days spent in the country. We wait another two hours for a new bus to arrive, making the suspense even more unbearable. Around 10 am, about 20 porters came flooding into the court yard of the hostel. They are loud and all over the place while picking up our bags and rushing back to the bus. It is time. We are all stuffed into the bus and within twenty minutes of the ride, pretty much every porter was dead asleep, mouths gaping open and some snoring. I want to nap but am too anxious. Kilimanjaro was about a two hour bus ride from Arusha, the city I was staying in. The clear skies gave us a chance to see the summit of the mountain on the way. It was a breathtaking yet nerve-wracking experience, seeing the monster I would need to conquer within the next five days.
Our arrival at the gate contained more waiting. The porters finalizing things, our guides checking us in. People were swarming everywhere, a mix of porters and hikers. It wasn’t until 2 pm that we headed for Machame Camp, making us the last group to tackle the mountain. The hike began on a road and lead deeper into a lush forest where monkeys could be spotted. This was a sweaty and long day. We kept ourselves busy with riddles and mind games, all of which I was horrible at. Savannah, a girl in my group was feeling sick from her altitude medication. We had to leave her behind with a guide because she physically couldn’t keep going. This made me anxious. Day one and shit was already getting real. A lot of us became quiet since exhaustion was setting in. The hike was fairly easy, but daunting. Our arrival to camp was a relief. Porters had already set up our tents, making me feel pathetic for feeling exhausted from simply walking while all of them carried various items on their heads up to camp. We all were drenched in sweat and our muscles ached. It was becoming dark and cold, which is not a good mix when your clothes are soaked. We signed in and changed immediately and commented on how cold it already was. We had no idea what lied ahead.
Night one was hard. I felt more sick than earlier and couldn’t get comfortable. I shared a tent with Kate and Savannah, who thankfully made it regardless of her illness. I fell asleep at seven, being so exhausted but woke up at some point in the night. I didn’t have a watch or a phone so it was strange having no idea what time it was. I felt trapped in the middle of my two tent mates, causing pressure behind my eyes about to let loose tears. What if I got sicker? Why did I think I was capable of this? It is only day one and I already want to go home. The anxiety attack was rooting itself to my core and I knew I needed to do something before it consumed me. I decided to get up and out of the tent. The cold chilled my runny nose. I realized I fell asleep with my contact lenses in my eyes and they burned, but I kept them in regardless.
Before entering my tent, I gazed up at the sky, thankful that I left my contacts in. I have never seen the milky way that clearly before. It looked as if a four year old glued an entire bottle of glitter to a blackish blue canvas. The earth looked rounder than ever. “This is why I am here”, I thought to myself. Not just the stars, but for the unimaginable and unknown, the things I never thought could be real in nature and in myself. I thought stars could only look like that in a planetarium, but here I am, witnessing them in the flesh on Africa’s tallest mountain, a place I never thought I would find myself. I am here to conquer this mountain, but more importantly, I am here to conquer myself.
