Europe 2011
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
A journeys end.
Today I have to pack, actually only a few items I have don't need sanitary washing as most of my clothes have just been fermenting in plastic bags. The safari clothes are clean, God knows I don't want to bring some new insect into the US.
Its been a journey, in both Europe and Africa. I've watched extradordinay masses of animals, a variety grazing in one area simultananeously, zebra, wildebeest and thomson gazelles. The Ngorongoro Crater and the Serengeti are sancturaries. I saw lions, in prides, the birth of a wildebeest, and an impala. I watched the big sky over the Serengeti at sunrise, at sunset. I had moment after moment when silent tears ran down my face. I enjoyed it all, every moment. The camera lense was often like being in the front row of a movie theater, as I watched kill after kill from start to finish, the succession of wildlife all getting their turn. Survival as its been, as it will be.
I learned, or forced to learn about birders. Our lead photographer, Andy Briggs said "birders" are the easiest people to have on a trip, there is an intellectual, quiet manner as they show excitement in checking another box in their guide bird book. At the end, I too was "checking".
The Maasai, over 640,000 in Tanznia are the most well-known Africian ethic group, but not the largest. They live as they did thousands of years ago, hearding cattle, sheep and goats in the Great Rift Valley. The day consists of taking the herd to graze and to a body of water. Seeing this unfold daily promotes soul searching. I think of all my electronic devices, beauty/age defying efforts and the bills I pay to maintain a lifestyle.
All in all I have countless memories as well as countless photographs. More than ever I am thankful for the chance I had to make this trip. Off the merry-go-round I've had a chance, just like last year, to really really find a balance in my life. Its impossible to share all those thoughts, they are in my mind and heart but have given me a new band width of knowledge. I see the world, process my experience and it changes me, gives me fulfillment and feeds me all those worldly images softly, everyday. Its kind of like when Tom Hanks, in "Castaway" returns home, rescued from the island he was on. I feel this way, I always always have transitional issues when I return, wondering around the house and thinking "what do I do here?". A week goes by I am back in the eye of the storm, juggling everything I "need" to do. The experience isn't lost, it just exists inside me and nurtures me all the time. Better than any mind memory game is the travel experience, your just a sponge, it is diverting and fantastic.
While in Gilgil and in some remote Eastern African villages, especially the I.D.P.'s, the horrific camps of Internally Displaced People, the Re-Start School, Pricilla's School of rescued Maasai girls, who are homeless and the disabled camp of children, my heart was broken. I still can't express my grief, it is so deep, the poverty so great. I walked through the camps and children followed me, wanted to be touched, grabbed me. Finally, I thought, forget about germs, embrace the moment, give them a moment. Using my camera, I took photos of them, they crowded around me in a huddle and I showed them on the view finder the photos I took. They were in a trance, do it again, I did. So for that one day, one hour, I shared. Although it broke my heart, it was a distraction for them and really that is all that was important. There was so much to take in I'll never be able to talk about it without tears. The good news is that ther is help out there, not for everyone but for some. When I was going through town after town, seeing children with thread bare clothing, no shoes and blank stares I became aware of the poorest of poor.
The cities of Amsterdam, Munich, Vienna, Salzburg, Prague and Budapest were cities. Of them all, for art and music I'd have to say Vienna won.
The timing of reading "Unbroken", about WW2 couldn't have been timed better. First I hated the Germans, of recent the Japanese, the book sucked me in. My father was a top turret bomber in a B-24 in WW2. Until this trip and the reading of "Unbroken" I didn't give WW2 a whole lot of thought. When I get home, I'll get the Army discharge certificate my Mother enlarged and framed for each of us "kids" and put it on the wall, its in the basement! I'll also locate the photo of Dad in his leather bomber jacket with his squadron and frame it. Finally, I'll get his WW2 diary and read it with a new set of eyes. For all the years when I was growing up, only once, when pressured he reached back to a moment he had tried to forget about the war. That outburst, at the dinner table he recounted a B-24 that exploded at the end of the runway in the South Pacific, too heavy to fly. He picked up a finger, the class ring still on it that he picked up after the explosion. Only now, seeing the bullet holes in buildings all over Europe, being in Anne Franks home and the stories from the tour guide do I truly understand the magitude of one mans (Hitler) power to take away freedom of mind, body and soul.
So I'll pack today, along with whats in my suitcase, my mind is as well "packed" with images, thoughts and memories of this trip. Its touched my heart and soul, I am different, yet the same.
Joan
Saturday, March 24, 2012
I go to the hills....
Salzburg, Austria
It was a highlight for me to see where Maria..... I go to the hills..... until I heard the movie came out in 1964. ugh. Tyler told me you know you'll want to see it all, all of it from the Sound of Music. He was right. Who doesn't like a fairytale? It is a true story, a bit altered for Broadway but a true story. Can someone tell the women in my bus today that they don't need to sing along to the Sound of Music CD, seriously, compete with Julie Andrews, they must be on drugs.
End of the tour and yes some people are really nice, ohers clueless and so off. I may do a tour again but honestly I'd rather do my own agenda and travel with my daughter or a friend.
It was a fast trip, long days, tight agendas. There were days where Prague was Budapest, I need to get my photos in perfect order.
Off to the final dinner.
More later.
Love, Joan
It was a highlight for me to see where Maria..... I go to the hills..... until I heard the movie came out in 1964. ugh. Tyler told me you know you'll want to see it all, all of it from the Sound of Music. He was right. Who doesn't like a fairytale? It is a true story, a bit altered for Broadway but a true story. Can someone tell the women in my bus today that they don't need to sing along to the Sound of Music CD, seriously, compete with Julie Andrews, they must be on drugs.
End of the tour and yes some people are really nice, ohers clueless and so off. I may do a tour again but honestly I'd rather do my own agenda and travel with my daughter or a friend.
It was a fast trip, long days, tight agendas. There were days where Prague was Budapest, I need to get my photos in perfect order.
Off to the final dinner.
More later.
Love, Joan
Friday, March 16, 2012
A Birds Nest
My hair looked like a birds nest when I finished what was 24 hours of travel to get from Nairobi to Munich. Unlike my daughter Lauren, I don't put my best foot forward when traveling, just comfy, all cotton, all black outfits. If I am not wearing my Sarah Jessica Parker I'm sleeping or don't bother me eye mask its a headband.
I sat between two women, for my longest flight, 11 hrs and 35 min who were from Shreveport LA., the accent puts us worlds apart. I thought now and then, I bet these women never swear, Yankees swear or at least normal Yankees.
There can't be anymore of a contrast between the streets of Nairobi and Munich. Total confussion and Munich, orderly. Overcrowded buses, not unlike the scene in Romancing the Stone in the beginning of the movie when Joan Wilder/Kathleen Turner is on the public bus. The buses are loaded with people and the luggage rack as well. In Munich, crisp clean signage, flawless roads. The cars are all new and clean, Mercedes Benz, Audi, BMW and VW,some really neat styles I haven't seen in the states. On the drive from the aiport to downtown Munich I didn't converse with the driver, he knew no English and you know me I'm in that tight phonics box. My curiousity then is why does he listen to American music? If he doesn't know the language why? It must be the background tunes or the fact its American and that makes it cool? Or could it be Germans, as a nation, can't carry a tune?
Having been to Anne's home in Amsterdam and now in German my mind kept chanting "I can't forgive you fro what you did to Anne", why didn't anyone stop all that horrific killing, how could you distroy someone because of religious belief?
The tour director has been doing this for 36 years, I'd say he's seasoned. Off to Prague today with a few stops. Most of the tour group of 35 are from Sydney, variety of ages. Lots of free time worked into the agenda and only one meal a day with the group.
Off to Prague, the guide said Prague and Budapest are undervalued and gems.
I sat between two women, for my longest flight, 11 hrs and 35 min who were from Shreveport LA., the accent puts us worlds apart. I thought now and then, I bet these women never swear, Yankees swear or at least normal Yankees.
There can't be anymore of a contrast between the streets of Nairobi and Munich. Total confussion and Munich, orderly. Overcrowded buses, not unlike the scene in Romancing the Stone in the beginning of the movie when Joan Wilder/Kathleen Turner is on the public bus. The buses are loaded with people and the luggage rack as well. In Munich, crisp clean signage, flawless roads. The cars are all new and clean, Mercedes Benz, Audi, BMW and VW,some really neat styles I haven't seen in the states. On the drive from the aiport to downtown Munich I didn't converse with the driver, he knew no English and you know me I'm in that tight phonics box. My curiousity then is why does he listen to American music? If he doesn't know the language why? It must be the background tunes or the fact its American and that makes it cool? Or could it be Germans, as a nation, can't carry a tune?
Having been to Anne's home in Amsterdam and now in German my mind kept chanting "I can't forgive you fro what you did to Anne", why didn't anyone stop all that horrific killing, how could you distroy someone because of religious belief?
The tour director has been doing this for 36 years, I'd say he's seasoned. Off to Prague today with a few stops. Most of the tour group of 35 are from Sydney, variety of ages. Lots of free time worked into the agenda and only one meal a day with the group.
Off to Prague, the guide said Prague and Budapest are undervalued and gems.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Water, Cement and Plastic Chairs
It has become apparent that without water, cement and plastic chairs, Kenya or Africa in general would suffer and stop existing.
Bikes are piled with yellow gas like containers, twined all over to take somewhere to be filled. I've seen bikes with one to three passengers, with a car tire, with a mattress, with easily hundreds of pounds of maize, carrots, bananas, but mostly yellow gas like containers for water. Water, clean water you buy. If you can't buy water like those in the I.D.P., the camps for Internally Displaced People, you drink dirty water. Two years ago when there was a severe shortage of water, daughters were sold, for water. I venture to guess the most profitable vendors here sell tires or repair bikes. For 5 shillings you can get a lift anywhere, 1,000 shillings is $8.00 in the USA.
Rhino Cement must be the best, or at least the best at advertizing. Even sloppy buildings, one wonders are occupied, are painted in the bright yellow and lime green Rhino Cement logo. I learned you add water, that key ingredient and sand to mix cement. I am ashamed I didn't know this! To save additional money and use less cement your suppose to put the core of the block your making, with pebbles. My first thought was the brick gets heavier. So they make bricks, bricks of cement in all sizes. I asked on one of my first drives through Kenya (after all the questions about where the irrigation was...) why were there so many buildings, everywhere that weren't finished? Festus told me it takes 10 years to build a home. While in the car for 5 hours today I saw much construction and stopped construction. I had an AH HA moment, nothing was gas powered, electric powered or battery operated, the building process is painfully slow and consequently painfully costly. Buildings are rebarb, cement blocks and cement holding them together. The scaffolding is out of tree timbers, narrow and not straight. The drive was long and we got lost a few times. On the return trip I though I will never ever not appreciate the USA street signage again. I was a guessing game.
So with a very high unemployment, high crime, Somolia population on the rise and political unrest, the plastic chair is vital. So much idle time, hanging around. No internet, newspaper or house cleaning. Yes, cell phones, everywhere, even in the I.D.P. People are clustered here and there, kind of waiting for another day to do the same thing. Really sad. If I misplace my calendar I am talking to myself! Its a different world, shocking and so so thought provoking.
One unique thing happened today, on route back from photo sessions at two locations, (which I will later blog about, once I process it all) the streets were lined with police for miles, both sides. All cars were to go to the shoulder of the road and stop. I said this is just like Air Force One, all air space must be stopped, there has to be someone important who is going to be going this route. Seriously, I should be in the C.I.A., it was the President of Kenya. What an insane dog and pony show, must have been some 50 cars, in no real order until the three cars that said "President Escort", everyone was speeding, I assume to out run any bullets? Finally, 5 identical black Mercedes Benz, kind of in a bowling pin arrangement, all with flags. I thought, its kind of like the shell game, HE is in one and we don't know which one. All in all it looked like an ego parade and just made me believe even more that Kenya is a two class society. It is painfully obvious. I'm feeling like I did, in Rome at the vadican, statues three times the size of a human, carved, everywhere, gold leaf, gold, domes, arches and the huge tv screens in the courtyard for Mass. I am not against religion as long as the needy get need, we all need self respect and esteem to get out and get ahead, give the needy the tools to get there. While in the car observing the Presidential display I asked the people in my car if the President feels his life is threatened, they said no, I thought weird it this. I then asked, when is the election, they said it hasn't been decided when the election will be held, we haven't been told yet. Kenya became independent in 1963, independent on whose terms? It reminds me of the olf Virginia Slims tag line "we've got a long way to go baby".
Bikes are piled with yellow gas like containers, twined all over to take somewhere to be filled. I've seen bikes with one to three passengers, with a car tire, with a mattress, with easily hundreds of pounds of maize, carrots, bananas, but mostly yellow gas like containers for water. Water, clean water you buy. If you can't buy water like those in the I.D.P., the camps for Internally Displaced People, you drink dirty water. Two years ago when there was a severe shortage of water, daughters were sold, for water. I venture to guess the most profitable vendors here sell tires or repair bikes. For 5 shillings you can get a lift anywhere, 1,000 shillings is $8.00 in the USA.
Rhino Cement must be the best, or at least the best at advertizing. Even sloppy buildings, one wonders are occupied, are painted in the bright yellow and lime green Rhino Cement logo. I learned you add water, that key ingredient and sand to mix cement. I am ashamed I didn't know this! To save additional money and use less cement your suppose to put the core of the block your making, with pebbles. My first thought was the brick gets heavier. So they make bricks, bricks of cement in all sizes. I asked on one of my first drives through Kenya (after all the questions about where the irrigation was...) why were there so many buildings, everywhere that weren't finished? Festus told me it takes 10 years to build a home. While in the car for 5 hours today I saw much construction and stopped construction. I had an AH HA moment, nothing was gas powered, electric powered or battery operated, the building process is painfully slow and consequently painfully costly. Buildings are rebarb, cement blocks and cement holding them together. The scaffolding is out of tree timbers, narrow and not straight. The drive was long and we got lost a few times. On the return trip I though I will never ever not appreciate the USA street signage again. I was a guessing game.
So with a very high unemployment, high crime, Somolia population on the rise and political unrest, the plastic chair is vital. So much idle time, hanging around. No internet, newspaper or house cleaning. Yes, cell phones, everywhere, even in the I.D.P. People are clustered here and there, kind of waiting for another day to do the same thing. Really sad. If I misplace my calendar I am talking to myself! Its a different world, shocking and so so thought provoking.
One unique thing happened today, on route back from photo sessions at two locations, (which I will later blog about, once I process it all) the streets were lined with police for miles, both sides. All cars were to go to the shoulder of the road and stop. I said this is just like Air Force One, all air space must be stopped, there has to be someone important who is going to be going this route. Seriously, I should be in the C.I.A., it was the President of Kenya. What an insane dog and pony show, must have been some 50 cars, in no real order until the three cars that said "President Escort", everyone was speeding, I assume to out run any bullets? Finally, 5 identical black Mercedes Benz, kind of in a bowling pin arrangement, all with flags. I thought, its kind of like the shell game, HE is in one and we don't know which one. All in all it looked like an ego parade and just made me believe even more that Kenya is a two class society. It is painfully obvious. I'm feeling like I did, in Rome at the vadican, statues three times the size of a human, carved, everywhere, gold leaf, gold, domes, arches and the huge tv screens in the courtyard for Mass. I am not against religion as long as the needy get need, we all need self respect and esteem to get out and get ahead, give the needy the tools to get there. While in the car observing the Presidential display I asked the people in my car if the President feels his life is threatened, they said no, I thought weird it this. I then asked, when is the election, they said it hasn't been decided when the election will be held, we haven't been told yet. Kenya became independent in 1963, independent on whose terms? It reminds me of the olf Virginia Slims tag line "we've got a long way to go baby".
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Gilgil, Kenya
Hello from Africa.
Here in Gilgil I was photographing a Re-Start School of 70 some homeless children. In addition, I have photographed an I.D.P. which is the Internally Displaced People from the 2008 violence when the election was rigged. There are some 38 tribes and 28 camps for the displaced individuals.
Before I launch into the Re Start School and the I.D.P. experience I met an interesting young white couple with two children in Gilgil this past weekend. They lived in Zambia, on a fourth generation farm. Ten years ago, Zambia decided that the white farmers had to leave. The locals came with drums outside their entrance, the drums got louder signaling them to leave. In all of 20 minutes they grabbed their belongs and left, left it all. They are now living in Kenya.
The Re Start School has the absolute minimum. The good news is the kids are being fed, have daily structure, some schooling and most of all no abuse. Some are babies, some are older teens. To try to generate funding they make bags and jewerly, I am bringing back some samples.
The I.D.P., Internally Displaced Person camp I anticipated I couldn't take photos of. When I got there they let me. In a dry dusty field was the camp, plastic and twig small huts, one room each family. 95 families. Some had goats within the maze of plastic. The plastic of all shapes and sizes was heald in place by taking twine, wrapping it around rocks and weighing down the roof plastic over the walls. Dirt floors. The toilets were three, three drops, meaning its a hole in the ground, you squat.
The kids love white people, they hold my hand, stroke my hair, shake my hand. I took photos and showed them in the shade of the one tree in this IDP photos from of them from the viewfinder on the back of my camera. I felt so guilty I walked away with photos that Saturday and had not brought anything as a gift. Monday I had Festus (the driver for the ranch I am staying in) take me back to the IDP with food for the camp. They depend on hand outs and donations alone. We went to the village and bought food for the camp, each item, in volume from various vendors, bags I couldn't lift. We then went to all the shops for balls, the kids at the IDP and Re Start had not toys, I thought balls were the most practical and long lasting. We then did the delivery. I was so fortunate, my timing couldn't have been better, they had no food for the following day. The children were in school, a good 5 miles away, they walk. The women were so grateful, one elderly woman gave me a Sawhili name, when I couldn't pronounced it they renamed me Jenny! They sang and danced, asked me to dance, mistake... it was a really bad mix of aerobics, motown and terrets. They loved it and Festus (the driver) said I danced like an African, that made me really glad, maybe I didn't look that bad??? At the end they formed a circle and the eldest woman wanted to pray for me, it was with a voice of strengh and passion, and they had their eyes closed. I took it all in like a sponge, wanting to remember that moment forever. Dispite the horrific living conditions these people were thankful, proud and held onto their faith. I looked at their living conditions, thread bare clothing and was proud to know and help them. When I got in the car, I turned to Festus and said "I think I will now have good luck in life."
I took the remaining soccer balls to the Re Start center where they only played with old tires. So many of the chldren haven't been toilet trained or emotionally scared they wet their beds. Everyday, some of the foam mattresses are layed out to dry on the grass to dry. There is no washing machine.
For all the missionaries that come to Africa to make a difference, I know it must be hard to leave, there is great need, great poverty, great appreciation. As the population grows out of check I really don't think Africa will ever emerge as a nation of independent means. It is just a mess here. So much violence, the National News newspaper is one crisis after another, seriously broken government.
Currently I am in Nairobi for two nights. Tomorrow I will photograph several of the many Lift Up Africa projects from 6:30 am to 4 pm.
Good night,
Joan
Here in Gilgil I was photographing a Re-Start School of 70 some homeless children. In addition, I have photographed an I.D.P. which is the Internally Displaced People from the 2008 violence when the election was rigged. There are some 38 tribes and 28 camps for the displaced individuals.
Before I launch into the Re Start School and the I.D.P. experience I met an interesting young white couple with two children in Gilgil this past weekend. They lived in Zambia, on a fourth generation farm. Ten years ago, Zambia decided that the white farmers had to leave. The locals came with drums outside their entrance, the drums got louder signaling them to leave. In all of 20 minutes they grabbed their belongs and left, left it all. They are now living in Kenya.
The Re Start School has the absolute minimum. The good news is the kids are being fed, have daily structure, some schooling and most of all no abuse. Some are babies, some are older teens. To try to generate funding they make bags and jewerly, I am bringing back some samples.
The I.D.P., Internally Displaced Person camp I anticipated I couldn't take photos of. When I got there they let me. In a dry dusty field was the camp, plastic and twig small huts, one room each family. 95 families. Some had goats within the maze of plastic. The plastic of all shapes and sizes was heald in place by taking twine, wrapping it around rocks and weighing down the roof plastic over the walls. Dirt floors. The toilets were three, three drops, meaning its a hole in the ground, you squat.
The kids love white people, they hold my hand, stroke my hair, shake my hand. I took photos and showed them in the shade of the one tree in this IDP photos from of them from the viewfinder on the back of my camera. I felt so guilty I walked away with photos that Saturday and had not brought anything as a gift. Monday I had Festus (the driver for the ranch I am staying in) take me back to the IDP with food for the camp. They depend on hand outs and donations alone. We went to the village and bought food for the camp, each item, in volume from various vendors, bags I couldn't lift. We then went to all the shops for balls, the kids at the IDP and Re Start had not toys, I thought balls were the most practical and long lasting. We then did the delivery. I was so fortunate, my timing couldn't have been better, they had no food for the following day. The children were in school, a good 5 miles away, they walk. The women were so grateful, one elderly woman gave me a Sawhili name, when I couldn't pronounced it they renamed me Jenny! They sang and danced, asked me to dance, mistake... it was a really bad mix of aerobics, motown and terrets. They loved it and Festus (the driver) said I danced like an African, that made me really glad, maybe I didn't look that bad??? At the end they formed a circle and the eldest woman wanted to pray for me, it was with a voice of strengh and passion, and they had their eyes closed. I took it all in like a sponge, wanting to remember that moment forever. Dispite the horrific living conditions these people were thankful, proud and held onto their faith. I looked at their living conditions, thread bare clothing and was proud to know and help them. When I got in the car, I turned to Festus and said "I think I will now have good luck in life."
I took the remaining soccer balls to the Re Start center where they only played with old tires. So many of the chldren haven't been toilet trained or emotionally scared they wet their beds. Everyday, some of the foam mattresses are layed out to dry on the grass to dry. There is no washing machine.
For all the missionaries that come to Africa to make a difference, I know it must be hard to leave, there is great need, great poverty, great appreciation. As the population grows out of check I really don't think Africa will ever emerge as a nation of independent means. It is just a mess here. So much violence, the National News newspaper is one crisis after another, seriously broken government.
Currently I am in Nairobi for two nights. Tomorrow I will photograph several of the many Lift Up Africa projects from 6:30 am to 4 pm.
Good night,
Joan
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Nairboi... who would have thougt?
Who would have thought casinos were downtown, and rotarys with wild little cars! Not me. I am at the Southern Mayfair, one of the two oldest hotels in Nairbi and it is very very civilized. I am sure, later this morning, after my omlete, poolside, I will see a different Kenya.
I can already tell communicating will be a challenge here, as I never attempt leaving english. Anyone who really knows me, knows phonics has always escaped me.
Short on cash, I asked the driver at the airport where there was a "change/bank" so I could convert dollars to euros...oops, no euros in Kenya shillings. Hmmmm, interesting, I should have done more "homework". Wondering how far my $110. US dollars would go, I asked "how much for the drive to the hotel?", he didn't speak any english but got the idea and said $1500. Oh, that is pricy I said, do you have a calculator, something is terribly wrong with your math. A blank look. Finally, I find a teller and the conversion is 78 shillings to one dollar. I convered and feel really rich with thousands of shillings, was going to tip the porter with one shilling and though, god no, that is less than a dollar. Good thing I am not here to shop this shilling thing is making me nervous, handing out $500 bills like it is 6.00.
I will post a blog on my safari when I settle in the country this week. Getting up at 5 am made for a long long day. Limited internet at one location. Was it fabulous, absolutely. Did I learn alot about photography, with out a doubt. I am using all kinds of dials and settings now instead of the "A" for automatic. It was an experience that brought all kinds of new knowledge and now new interest in Africa, wildlife and mankind. When the tiny prop plane took off from the Serengeti airstrip/ field, silent tears ran down my face, the experience was just unlike anything I expected, not in a good way but a spiritual inspirational fabulous way, just life changing. I am feeling very lucky and fortunate and happier than I have been in a very very long time.
I can already tell communicating will be a challenge here, as I never attempt leaving english. Anyone who really knows me, knows phonics has always escaped me.
Short on cash, I asked the driver at the airport where there was a "change/bank" so I could convert dollars to euros...oops, no euros in Kenya shillings. Hmmmm, interesting, I should have done more "homework". Wondering how far my $110. US dollars would go, I asked "how much for the drive to the hotel?", he didn't speak any english but got the idea and said $1500. Oh, that is pricy I said, do you have a calculator, something is terribly wrong with your math. A blank look. Finally, I find a teller and the conversion is 78 shillings to one dollar. I convered and feel really rich with thousands of shillings, was going to tip the porter with one shilling and though, god no, that is less than a dollar. Good thing I am not here to shop this shilling thing is making me nervous, handing out $500 bills like it is 6.00.
I will post a blog on my safari when I settle in the country this week. Getting up at 5 am made for a long long day. Limited internet at one location. Was it fabulous, absolutely. Did I learn alot about photography, with out a doubt. I am using all kinds of dials and settings now instead of the "A" for automatic. It was an experience that brought all kinds of new knowledge and now new interest in Africa, wildlife and mankind. When the tiny prop plane took off from the Serengeti airstrip/ field, silent tears ran down my face, the experience was just unlike anything I expected, not in a good way but a spiritual inspirational fabulous way, just life changing. I am feeling very lucky and fortunate and happier than I have been in a very very long time.
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