Al Hurr

Getting into the portable bathroom tent. Sheer joy!

Our first stop was Machame camp, at 3000 m altitude. Upon arrival there I had already switched on my outdoor mode. I had been preparing myself to outdoor life and teaching myself mechanisms of coping with outdoor living. The minute I arrived in the camp I needed to go to the bathroom so I was ready to go find myself a nice tree somewhere. My friend Nadia had blogged about her own Kilimanjaro experience and said that the toilets were absolutely impossible. I looked around and there were tents everywhere. Puzzled, I decided to speak to the head guide and ask him, maybe he knew a popular spot. He was puzzled himself and pointed towards a little blue tent and said, “That’s your portable toilet!” I could not believe my happiness when I actually found a place I could zip myself into and enjoy a decent seating. These portable toilets became my best friends throughout the trip.

I shared my tent with my friend Nora. It was so cold when we arrived that we decided the best technique was to stick our sleeping bags together so we’d be using each other’s body warmth. The tents were very small but not too small for two people. There was no such thing as standing up in there, and no such thing as getting in or out on two feet no matter how much you bend. You had to go down on your knees and crawl in and out on all four. And to avoid dust getting into your hands on your way out, it was always best to get out backwards, a technique we called “The Butt Exit.”

The terrain was very dusty. Within one hour of our arrival dust and dirt had accumulated around our nails, my nose blowing and spitting became more intense, and the snotty tissues, which became a natural extension to my pockets, all had a blackish substance inside. My first lessons of harsh living were already beginning.

What a Night!

Inside the tent

Going by the book, altitude sickness was expected to start showing, if at all, at 3000 m altitude. I was especially conscious of my bodily functions. I was aware that my breathing was becoming more rapid, especially at night, and the cold began to kick in from all directions into the tent. I curled up further into my sleeping bag and zipped it as tightly as I could and managed to sleep a little until I woke up to loud screams and a scary sound of suffocation from a tent nearby. One of the climbers was throwing up violently and I could hear voices of people trying to soothe her and talk her into taking deep breaths. I immediately panicked and could just picture her being evacuated on a stretcher. I decided that that was how bad altitude can suddenly attack a person. I got quickly into my jacket and wrapped something around my head and barged out of the tent. I ran to her tent and found three of the men climbers standing outside and they told me to go in. On all four once again, I crawled inside but had to remain halfway out of the tent. Just then I realized that I was in my thermal underwear, but what the heck! I was saving someone’s life! I ended up doing nothing of course but repeating more of the same: take a deep breath, Lubna, you’ll be alright!

Lubna had food poisoning from the fish she ate the night before at the hotel. So the mountain had nothing to do with it. But right then I became so fearful of the adventure ahead. I went back to my tent and it took at least 2 hours for me to warm my body again and go back to sleep. All along I kept trying to soothe myself by trying to gather all the respect I ever gave to anyone and offer it to Kilimanjaro. I whispered to it softly in my mummy bag before I closed my eyes, “Your God is mine.”

And What a Day!

Shira camp. My view as I write.

Right now I’m sitting under a tree in Shira camp at an altitude of 3800 m. I see the Mount Meru summit floating in from of me on a sea of clouds. I feel so blessed by the beauty that surrounds me. Today I made my way into the clouds and above them until I began to see nothing underneath but pure white. I came so closely to appreciate outdoor life and how it has the magical capacity to bring people together. We’re beginning to bond as a team and I can feel the bond getting stronger with time. In today’s hike the group was mostly together, all 26 climbers. We hiked on the steepest incline – so far – continuously for four hours, rested for lunch, and then resumed for another two hours. I was coughing and spitting my way throughout the hike, but I was entertained by the group singing Stand By Me almost throughout the climb.

I don’t know what excitement took me over when the song began to rise from all directions. I brought out my camera and decided to film the singing. That’s when Baraka, the guide, spoke to me firmly, “Concentrate!” I looked in front of my and there was a massive rock that required my hands as well.

Baraka was in my view the most professional guide in the team. Hiking behind him I did not feel like I was just being shown the way up the mountain. I was in fact taking a full course on how to make it through. He gave me detailed instructions on how to find my steps up rocks as if creating my own stairs to climb, how to feel the rock for the right spot to put my hands and rest my weight as I went up, and all the time insisting on a slow pace, no matter how energized I felt.

Because I followed Baraka’s instructions I was able to enjoy the hike to the fullest. I did not feel tired despite the fact that my backpack was considerably heavy, I did not get dizzy as I looked around and behind me to take in as much of the scenery as I could, and my breathing was quite deep and steady despite all the coughing.

I really enjoyed everything today. I’m coughing like mad right now and I have a pile of tissue full of dusty spit next to me, but the sunset behind the clouds that I’m looking at and the pretty birds on my left that are keeping me company tell me that it was and will continue to be all worth it.