MEDICAL MUTT
Bringing Tigger on this trip was a last minute decision, made the night before we left Pretoria when, lying in bed at midnight, we decided to bring her and worry about the problems along the way.
Thus far we haven't had any of the problems we were expecting - border posts either haven't seen her - they didn't really look - or they haven't worried about her, except to limit their search of the truck to a cursory look from at least 2 m away from where mutt was sitting.
The few government vets we did deal with were exceedingly helpful - in Namibia and Malawi - with the Malawian vet picking up that Tigger had sleeping sickness.
Since then, we've just kept quiet about her and dealt with the border crossings as they arrived. There haven't been any real problems and officials have waved us through.
Rough Time
But Tigger has had a rough time over the past 2 months, being injured for most of the time. Just as she has recovered from one injury, she's walked into something else.
First she ripped a dew claw on one of her hind legs while in the backwoods of Uganda, taking the claw half off and leaving a gaping wound which took about three weeks to heal.
Then she got into a fight in Nairobberi when one of the campsite dogs went for her, leaving a puncture wound in her chest which needed two stitches and a rabies booster shot.
Two weeks later, on the day I took the stitches out, she sliced a deep gash in one of her pads. It should have been stitched but not being anywhere near a vet when it happened, we cleaned it out, coated it in antiseptic cream and bound it up.
A couple of hours later the bandage was off - do dogs ever leave health matters to their owners? - and we had to rebind it. She's coping quite well, hopping along on three legs, but I think it's going to take a while for this one to heal due to its depth.
Headaches and heartaches
The comprehensive medical kit that Lisa and I packed for this trip has languished largely unused in the back of the truck, thankfully, with headache tablets being the only items we've used much of.
Tigger, on the other hand, has made extensive use of the kit's facilities, which include several items specifically for her.
We're hoping that after this string of problems - the old saying about bad luck coming in threes - she will have learned to tread a little more carefully, although it's doubtful if she will ever learn to approach life at anything other than full tilt.
Consolation prize
Invalid she may be but that hasn't stopped her from letting us know that she won't tolerate any baboons or other primates coming near the truck.
While staying at Arba Minch, a troop of baboons would come up to the hotel grounds every morning and check out the grounds for breakfast. Some of the larger, wiser apes also enjoyed hopping over the wall into an adjacent property and stealing carrots before slinking back over the dividing line to enjoy their ill-gotten gains.
Unlike most of the baboons and monkeys in Seffrica, these individuals were decidedly wary of people - I get the impression Ethiopians tolerate the animals as long as they don't pester people. The baboons seem to be aware of this agreement too.
But Tigger wasn't having any of this. As soon as the baboons came over the wall (and she woke up enough from her midday snooze, which starts at about 9 am and last until 4 pm to notice them) she'd be up and wanting to teach them a lesson.
The fact that she only had the use of three legs and the larger baboons were significantly bigger than she is didn't bother her. We had to keep calling her back and telling her to leave them alone. Baboons can do savage things to dogs.
Mutual Fascination
At Wondo Genet, Tigger became enthralled by the vervet monkeys and Guereza black and white colobus monkeys. They were equally fascinated and, after peering guardedly at her from the upper reaches of the trees, they eventually came down to within about 2 m of her.
Watching the dog on the ground craning her neck upwards, with long strings of saliva hanging from her chops, and these monkeys in the trees, craning their necks downwards and clicking at her, was better than prime time television.
One day, Tigger spent at least 2 hours sitting in the same position, gazing up into the trees while a vervet monkey spent almost as much time gazing down at her in fascination.
The whole troop of colobus monkeys came down one day, egging each other on to climb lower and closer to Tigger. Eventually, the only way they could have got any closer was to fall out the tree or climb down the trunk.
Hearts and Minds
Stopping at hotels is always a little tricky as most Africans aren't overly fond of dogs and are quite frightened of them. You don't want to be a dog in Africa in your next life as few people feed their dogs - they're expected to forage for themselves from the rubbish tips or go out and hunt for dinner. Equally, bitches end up having a litter of puppies every time they are in season. Life spans are not long for African dogs - we're seldom sure whether dogs are sleeping beside the road or are dead.
So whenever we stop we have to find just the right time to mention that we have a dog but not get kicked out on our ears. Most people, once they've asked if she bites, are reluctantly happy to have Tigger stay.
And once they see the way that she gets on with us and responds to our commands, they become quite fascinated that she understands "everything" we say to her.
Often, Tigger has taken over the property within a day of arriving at the campsite and new arrivals think that she belongs to the campsite because of the way she takes over, lazing in the sun outside the front door, investigating newcomers and waltzing around with an air of ownership.
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GIMME A BREAK
Wondo Genet, 22 March 2002
We've finally found a the place to recuperate and adapt to entering a new country - despite having been in Ethiopia for 4 days.
It's been a rough week and our nerves have been a tad frazzled - the Lake Turkana bash (literally) and the convoy north left us exhausted while the first hotel we camped at left us feeling less than recovered.
We're now sitting under the spreading canopy of an enormous tree (both writing things) while Tigger is giving herself a crick in the neck staring into the canopy at some equally fascinated Guereza (Abyssinian) black and white colobus monkeys. The tree is dotted with starkly white, fluffy tails hanging from the branches like some cuddly-toy fruit.
The colobus aren't fazed by our presence but they find mutt fascinating and are clustered about 5 m up the tree taking turns snacking on leaves, staring (blankly) around and keeping a close watch on Tigger.
What more could one ask for in a campsite? The thought of the hot springs down the road is an added bonus.
Back Track
Our departure from Marsabit was early - I think the kitchen staff at the Jey Jey Hotel got up early just to serve us some of their delicious masala tea and fill our flasks with boiling water.
The convoy from Marsabit to Moyale, on the Ethiopian border, is haphazard affair with nobody quite able to tell you where it starts from - head down the road, stop and ask the first truck you see and then continue for about 5 km until you hit the first checkpoint. Things only got going about an hour behind schedule - not bad for Africa time.
We followed a trio of trucks piled high with goods and covered in (uniform?) green tarpaulins. On top of that sat an array of passengers in whatever comfort they could find. Unfortunately - for the passengers and us - the trucks weren't travelling slowly and the first 100 km of the road is bumpy, corrugated and generally unpleasant.
Even 40 km/h was too fast but we felt we had to keep up.
Going for broke
After the first checkpoint, things rather fell apart, both literally and figuratively. One of the trucks broke a leaf spring (we commiserated), a second had a blowout (they had started with the canvas showing) and, before we reached the second checkpoint, the third truck disappeared (it didn't pass the checkpoint, wasn't in the village and there weren't any turn-offs in the section of road it vanished on).
The soldiers at the checkpoint said we may as well go on alone so off we set along the next 150 km of "danger zone" - the most dangerous thing we encountered were the corrugation. After the first tortuously slow first section, the second is negotiated at a break-neck (wait until you're on these roads before pooh-pooing the speed!) 75 km/h as this is the only way to reduce the corrugation-induced shuddering to bearable proportions.
So much for the convoy. Crossing the border into Ethiopia also wasn't a problem, despite having to swap sides of the road midway between the two border posts - in Ethiopia, they drive on the right.
Being Sunday, we had to wait an hour at the Ethiopian border post until the officials returned from lunch at 3 pm and then fill in currency declaration forms listing all the foreign currency we had with us as well as other valuables - laptop computers, video cameras, cellphones, VCRs and televisions (how much do they think we brought with us?!?!) all have to be declared, along with serial numbers provided, just in case you try and sell them in Ethiopia (or buy new ones and take them out the country!). Changing money on the black market is frowned upon here, obviously.
The woman who was filling in all the forms - in quintuplicate - was very helpful and friendly, and didn't think it was necessary to list the cameras: Ethiopians aren't very enamoured of the camera, even when you are paying to take pictures of them - a common occurrence from Kenya north.
What Sort of Fuel am I?
We also had to change some money with some of the shysters hanging around the border post, the banks being closed. One of them tried to tell to us that there was no diesel available at the petrol stations in Moyale but he "knew of someone who had some available" at, reasonably, only twice the normal price.
We said we'd come back to him if we didn't find any. Strangely, all the filling stations seemed to have an ample supply! He also said he'd helped some other Seffricans two days before because of the shortage - I think they just got caught in his sting!
Leaving Moyale late in the day, we pushed on into the night and then bushcamped, awaking to a stunning sunrise the next morning, and turned west at Yabello towards Konso, where you have to report to the tourist office and pay Birr 30 ($3.5) in order to take pictures of the villages in the area. Video cameras are "strictly forbidden" as the Ethiopians believe a video means other people don't have to visit the country to see it.
Wild Life
The wildlife in southern Ethiopia is spectacular with little need, for twitchers, to pay to enter any of the parks - just plan on doing very short distances every day and stopping frequently along the main roads.
Between Konso and Arba Minch, in addition to all the other things we had to rush past to reach our destination, we stopped to photograph a fish eagle drinking from a puddle in the middle of the road.
We stopped in Arba Minch for three days, thinking this would give us a chance to recuperate at the Bakeli Mola hotel perched atop a hill overlooking the spit of land separating lakes Chamo and Abaya. The view from the hotel terrace is spectacular but the office staff leave much to be desired.
Camping in Ethiopia is not specifically catered for although you can set up in the grounds of most of the bigger hotels. They also habitually charge an extra fee if you want to use a shower!
After three days of non-rest, catching up on diaries and truck repairs (the rear diff's oil seal o-ring needs replaced), and still feeling very out of sorts and at war with Ethiopia - "You-You!" and outstretched hands follow you everywhere, there is a universal belief that anybody can hang on, or in, a feranji's vehicle, and we're exceedingly confused by both Amharic script and the language - we got lost leaving Arba Minch en route for Wondo Genet.
Water Works
We have found that when "hangers in" become too much, a squirt from our water bottle - after asking them to give us some space has failed - usually does the trick and defuses the situation, drawing laughter from the dry members of the watching crowd. It is a last resort though!
Having dutifully read the guide books, we had formed a less than savoury impression of Shashemene as a dusty, forgettable town. It's also home to a Rastafarian settlement (called unimaginatively: Jamaica) whose occupants are tired of being gawped - we know how they feel.
We got to Shashemene after dark, which may have coloured our view, but it was the first time we felt any sense of the hospitality, in Ethiopia, which we've felt in the rest of Africa. While Lisa went into a shop (still open at 8 pm) to buy essentials - tea, sugar, biscuits - and ask directions, I waited in the car.
Several people said hello and some, in the brusque manner which we are slowly realising isn't always rudeness but simply the way the people are and their uncomfortableness with English, stopped to ask if we needed help. No pestering, no staring, just really nice people.
Lisa emerged with a few men in tow, one of whom climbed into the vehicle and showed us to the Wondo Genet road, refusing a lift back.
Shashemene changed our view of Ethiopia.
Hope Springs
So did the policemen at a checkpoint halfway to the resort. One of them was willing to show us where it was but, unfortunately, they didn't have a vehicle for him to find his way back. We dropped him back at "work', gratefully.
The Wabe Shebele Resort Hotel (camping Birr 37.5 - $4.5 a person, including access to the hot springs) is set amid towering trees and has a very 1970s restaurant and bar which brings to mind bad science fiction movies of the period.
Known by us, after friends indelibly named it, as Wobbly Belly, the hotel is the spot we've been looking for to recharge ourselves. The staff are really friendly, efficient and relaxed.
We're off for a hot sprung swim.
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