Another magnificent sunrise greeted us as we emerged from our tents just before dawn, the golden orb hovering on the horizon. With cups of tea and bowls of cold cereal in hand, we grouped ourselves around the fire and listened to Grace share Rahab’s story. In the wondrous grace of God, she was delivered not only from physical death and the destruction of Jericho, but also from spiritual death and sin. Saved by her trust in the spies and their God, Rahab’s sordid past was transformed into a beautiful picture of God’s mercy and faithfulness as she was added to the line of the Messiah himself.
Once again, our hands were faster this morning than yesterday as we dismantled our camp and loaded our camels. More familiar with us, the camels submitted to our affections as we talked and scratched and petted. Today, we were heading along the river to a picnic breakfast about six kilometers away. We watched as the enormous trees petered to scattered shrubs, listening all the while to the rush of the river, sometimes just out of sight. Egyptian Geese waddled among the rushes, and hundreds of species of birds came alive in the morning air. We sang camp songs and lots of Sound of Music, eventually descending a long, steep slope beside a waterfall. Following the river once again, we stopped to admire a trio of hippos lounging in a pool, followed a herd of zebra across the grassland, and finally sighted our destination.
Dismounting, we had a few minutes to reapply our sunscreen, braid a few girls’ hair, and seek out bushes to answer nature’s call, then Alex led us on foot along a cliffside path, with the river rushing below. Our destination was a gigantic rock jutting up at the waterside, and it wasn’t long before we were clambering to the very top of it. From here, the rush of water was so loud that it was hard to hear each other, and we stood for a while simply admiring the view. Behind us, in still pools of rain and river water, waterlilies bloomed a gorgeous purple. A series of waterfalls sent spray high into the air, cooling our faces. The roar of the river provided a soothing backdrop.
After enjoying fresh cut pineapple and juice, we spread out. Eva and Kanah clambered down to the rocks below to read and journal. Abi and Jinjoo fell asleep in the sunshine on the warm boulders. Cassidy and Grace meandered upriver, exploring the pools for a while before settling on a rock in the shallows, dangling their feet and talking. Addie clambered among the rocks, finding hidden crevices, watching birds and lizards and bugs. John and Amanda joined us and broke out our picnic breakfast: hard-boiled eggs, tomatoes, bananas, sausages, juice, and bread slathered with butter. We ate where we were, scattered along the riverbank in pairs and alone. I perched on the edge of the boulder with the Perretts, talking about my first time with them on Interim, our lives, the past, and the future.
Soon, we were pressing on, on foot. We clambered back up the rocky hillside to where the camels were, then cut down the hill to our right, where we crossed a mostly-dry stream that fed into the river. Up across the face of the hill we went, then dropped down again to the bank. Hopping from rock to rock, we picked our way across boulders that were, at some points of the year, underwater, then scrambled up a high point of rock to the cliff beside the big waterfalls. From there, we looked out at the boulder where, as a junior, I had cliff jumped into the churning pools below. There was far too much water in the river this time for us to cliff jump and swim here – an unlikely and unexpected occurrence, as less than a month before, John was concerned there would be too little water – but the guys promised another swim when we got to our next campsite.
The rest of the morning was spent hiking to said campsite. We found an enormous, colorful grasshopper along the way, then sighted elephants on the nearest hill. We walked beneath budding thorn trees, along dusty, rocky roads, keeping our camels close, especially when we heard a herd of elephants in the undergrowth nearby. Their sounds were unmistakable, but we didn’t catch any glimpses of them. At one point, several of us remounted our camels to ford a narrow stream and cross a swampy marsh-like patch of land; Abi and Grace decided to slog through it on foot instead.
At last, we came in sight of the river again, and then our campsite on the hill beyond. We made quick work of setting up camp, then lunched on tuna sandwiches, veggies and dip, fruit, and homemade poppy seed crackers dipped in more delicious tomato relish. It’s amazing how hungry you constantly are when you’ve ridden camels all morning and walked eight kilometers since breakfast, and how delicious even simple fare can taste!
The river here again provided a perfect place to swim, and as soon as we could, we headed in. The muddy banks were slick, and there were several mishaps before we were all in the water itself. Although it was shallower, the current was just as strong, if not stronger, but the girls enjoyed wading upstream against the current, fighting to keep their footing and make any progress against the flow. Eva and I struggled upstream to a cove protected by another island, where we floated above the sandy bottom, enjoying the delightful cool of the water. We laughed, surveying the girls’ antics as they forged their way upriver, only to be swept back to where they began.
Losing my footing on the sand, I was tugged into the current and pulled towards the girls, who had paused to catch their breath. I came to a gentle rest against a boulder, which snagged me for a minute, and when I got free, the current spun me around. My legs bumped into Cassidy; while I was pulled away, she lost her balance and fell into the water, giggling all the while. I swept closer to the rapids, which dropped to a lower part of the river just below us, growing shallower and running faster. Dropping my feet, I dug in my toes, getting a secure foothold. No sooner had I stood up than a sputtering, snickering Cassidy was upon me, slamming into me with a force that nearly knocked me over, and made me wonder if I’d lost all of my toenails to the rocks where they were wedged. She couldn’t get her feet under her to stand up – the cackling didn’t help either. I gripped her arms, keeping her face above water as she grinned up at me, “You made me lose my progress!”
Both laughing, struggling to get and keep our balance, we managed to right ourselves fully and wade upriver to rejoin the others in the calm cove. No sooner had we arrived than the girls decided to venture further upstream towards Addie, who had fought her way through the next set of rapids and stood waving. Jinjoo and Grace were there, and it was clear that Jinjoo had no intention of joining them on this adventure. Torn between staying with Jinjoo (who was still nervous about being in water at all) and joining the expedition up the rapids, Grace glanced from me to her friend and back again. With a sudden light in her eyes, she leaped into the current, calling over her shoulder, “Will you watch Jinjoo?”
“Sure,” I laughed, catching Jinjoo’s eye, “I’ll watch Jinjoo.”
The subject of our conversation narrowed her eyes and waved her hands in the air. “Like I’m a child!” she called after Grace, who threw a grin back at us and kept going.
Once again, our time in the river resulted in minor surgeries, this time with Eva and Abi as the patients. Eva pulled the thorn from her own foot, then I took a try at the thorn still wedged in Abi’s. This round was successful, and the nasty tip of the deeply-lodged thorn came free at last, though another thorn remained trapped. We decided to clean it well, slather it with antibiotic ointment, and have her wear shoes and socks; hopefully it would fester and come free tomorrow. In the meantime, we were going on another adventure – a trip to Ivan’s Rock, a nearby, free-standing monolith. Climbing into the bed of the pickup truck, we settled ourselves for the bumpy, fifteen-minute ride.
Pulling up in front of the towering rock formation, we hopped to the ground, tightened our shoelaces, and started our climb. The first slope of the rock was slippery, but not too steep, and we made quick progress, reaching a section covered in earth where grasses, shrubs, and trees grew. Winding through this on a narrow path, we climbed further, eventually coming face-to-face with a steep, but not sheer, rock face. This was the hard part of the ascent, and I was grateful for hiking sandals with fabulous grip, as I used cracks for hand and footholds and propelled myself upward. The guides were interspersed among us, offering advice on solid places to plant your feet and easier sections to climb, as well as making sure none of us was panicking or slipping.
With a final pull and push, I found myself standing on top of the enormous rock. The view from its height was breathtaking; we could see for miles and miles in every direction as acacias and scrubby grassland stretched to the horizon, green from the recent rains. John pointed out Bobong Campsite, our base camp, on the plateau in the distance, and we stared in awe at the river, the rolling hills, the red dirt roads, and cattle looking like children’s toys far below. We must have been fifty feet above the surrounding landscape, surveying the beauty. The wind was strong; if you stretched out your arms and leaned into it, it would hold you upright with no effort of your own. It almost knocked several of the girls over when we first made the summit, and they took great delight in the way it whipped their hair and whistled around them.
At last, it was time to descend – which was definitely the scary part. I perched on the edge behind Jinjoo, watching Cassidy and Grace before her as they picked their way down the steep rock face on their backsides. Barabara went behind them, guiding them and Jinjoo when she started down, showing them where to put their feet, the best cracks to use to stop their descent, where rougher portions of rock would stop them from sliding too far. Bill followed Jinjoo, guiding me down in the same way. By the time we reached the bottom, my knees, already tired from our hiking, rock hopping, and climbing, were sore, but we made it.
Now it was time for our animal tracking and bird identification lessons. We were divided into pairs, and Barabara set off with Abi and I in tow. He showed us all kinds of animal tracks: impala, zebra, cattle, giraffe, hippo, dik-dik. We found a set of leopard footprints in the dust, and Barabara confirmed that there were several in the area. In a flurry of fur, a whole gang of baby mongooses scurried away through the grass. We spotted guinea fowl, herons, spurfowl, ring-necked doves, go-away birds, multiple types of weavers, starlings, red-cheeked cordon-bleus, and more. When we got closer to the river, a single male hippo gave us quite the show, tossing his head, spraying water, and grunting. Abi promptly named him Tyrone. The second hippo we spotted, further upriver, was his spurned girlfriend, Shaniqua.
By the time we headed back to camp, sunset was coloring the sky. Grabbing sweatshirts to ward off the chill, we started on dinner – stir fried beef and veggies with rice, with Amanda’s delicious chocolate biscuit cake for dessert. We ate beside another blazing fire beneath a starry sky, listening to Amanda and John share stories about their numerous wildlife encounters over the years. It wasn’t until the next morning that we found out that while we were listening to stories about elephant encounters, an elephant had stood on the single-lane road above our campsite, curious about the fire and all of us! The guys had kept it at bay with carefully tossed rocks, but it had watched us inquisitively for a long time.