My diary ended with day 6. I hesitated so much before writing another blog entry here. I feared it would be more of an anti-climax. After all the exhilaration we felt for making it to the top, going down any mountain is usually the boring part. We are tired and we want to rest, we have no new destination to reach, it’s more painful for the knees, and it almost always feels like an eternity.
But on a second thought, not with Kilimanjaro. That majestic mountain never runs out of surprises. It always has something new to teach and something amazing to show.
On the summit I was happy to find that I felt alright. I wanted to wait for Nora to catch up so we could have our picture together taken at the summit. But neither Omar, Joseph, nor Baraka seemed comfortable with the idea. They insisted that it would be too dangerous for me to stay much longer than I already had at this altitude, especially that my body was not properly acclimatized to it. So feeling good was not necessarily a sign that I was safe.
Not wanting to explore the possibility of me suddenly crashing on the summit no matter how romantic such an opportunity for fame would have been, I listened obediently and began my journey down.
Going down to Stella Point was like watching myself go up. I looked at the climbers still trying to make it to Uhuru and felt like I was having an out of body experience. I felt light and effortless and I could see them struggling with each step just like I did. One of the climbers actually stopped and bent down to rest his weight on his poles and began to breathe. I tried to cheer him on with words of encouragement. He was already there. I knew that this would have been something I would want to hear when in a situation like this.
The shock came immediately after Stella Point. Now that it was daylight, Coucla and I could clearly see the steepness of the incline we had to endure for 2 or 3 hours until we reached Stella. It was a pebbly bottomless slide. Right at that moment the big guide secret was revealed. NO ONE is to go up to Uhuru Peak in daylight, because no one would make it if they saw this.
There was no way we could take any steps, so we just gave in to the slide and used our poles as if we were skiing. Big black birds, which had accompanied us throughout the climb continued to fly around us. Nora had joked that they were probably roaming around us waiting for us to die so they could feed. With the exhaustion we felt, the thought was rather freakish.
One of the climbers broke down and was dehydrated with the overexertion. He could not move anymore and it was impossible for him to reach out to take the chocolate the guide tried to give him. I made him open his mouth and forced it inside. He had to be dragged down as fast as possible. The lower down he went, the quicker the water would melt so he would drink again, and the better he would feel.
I was in a state of disbelief. I was going down Kilimanjaro after I reached its highest peak. What a beautiful mountain that was. I remembered how I felt when I first saw it through the plane window and I could not believe the size of the black mass that floated above the clouds. I was right there, standing on that mass, breathing normally again, looking at the clouds below me and making my way into them. My entire being was overwhelmed with gratitude. The fight against myself was over. My mind had nothing to do now but rest, enjoy the benefit of its struggle, look around and take the beauty and bliss all in.
We went back to the base camp and rested for a few hours, packed our things, and took off via the Mweka route to Mweka camp to spend the night.
Mweka camp was at 3000 m altitude. Now we were very close to the clouds it actually depressed us. As happy as we were with our accomplishments, Nora and I were already beginning to feel anxious about our separation with the mountain. We didn’t have much to say to each other or to the others. All we wanted to do was lie down and reflect on everything.
On the following day we were to descend the remaining full 3000 m down to Mweka Gate. The road was rocky and very straining for our knees and soles. When we began to go back down into the forest the terrain turned muddy and slippery. And as usual, other climbers were passing me by with so much fluency. Going down is my not so good part. I get so much pain in the soles of my feet that no boot can really fix. It’s a kind of pain that starts at the bones and works its way out. I began to focus with myself a little more, watch their feet as they went down, and try to figure out my own strategy. I must be doing something wrong. Maybe with more practice I’ll start getting better.
And then the eternity phase began. The slippery terrain soon gave way to a deep, very deep, ocean of mud. I had never gotten so deep in mud until that day. Our boots sank into the mud and became heavier. We were lifting piles of mud as we went along.
And as much as I didn’t like my gaiters, they didn’t like me either. I forgot them in the camp before we moved. So I was going through all of this with no gaiters on. I didn’t know how I would get into the bus in this state. “Why this goodbye, Kili? Why?”
But Kilimanjaro has the ability to distract you throughout. We were entertained by an endless variety of bird sounds that are sure to wake the 5 year-old in anyone. I don’t know what struck me, but I started responding to them. “But we have to go! I’m coming back, I promise!” Or to another note, “I will miss you too! Thank you!”
To our sheer joy at Mweka Gate, some people ran a business of cleaning climbers’ boots when they arrive. I received my first indulgence right at the gate. I sat down and had a very kind woman sink my boots in water and brush all the mud away.
It was – and still is – very hard to believe how lucky we were up there. To me, I took up this journey to discover my limits, if any. I needed to know my potential. I wanted it to be the beginning of something new and exciting in my life. I had lost my mother less than two months before and felt the ground shake under my feet. Everything I ever took for granted in my life was suddenly gone one Friday morning. Making it up Kilimanjaro became more important to me than ever before. I felt so blessed that I made it to the top.
I felt nature twisting its laws to suit my abilities. I had everything on my side. And I can’t wait for the next mountain to climb!