Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Bush pigs, Nicki Minaj, and Chocolate-Ginger Tarts




At my camp in the Gombe Forest, I hear dogs barking in the distance. Then I remember they are actually baboons and I smile. As I write this, there is a troop of baboons barking at each other and walking across the roof of my tent. They are everywhere. They look right at you as if to size you up and say, “I can take you.” Then you move a little and they walk on. If it is a juvenile baboon, it may scurry away, looking back at you to make sure you’re not following. If it’s a large adult male, it will saunter off with a swagger. There are all kinds of animals in the forest here, many of which come right through camp. I may have dreamed that there were bush pigs snorting around in the middle of the night last night – or there may have actually been bush pigs. You never know around here, and it’s all good. (Photo below: Baboons)



It’s hard to remember that, besides the generator, all the noises here are natural. No matter how manmade they sound. The tinny and metallic insect noises, the cicadas that pierce your eardrums like an excruciatingly loud alarm buzzer, the birds that call on a regular pattern over and over for minutes until you’re sure they must be on a recorded loop. My brain keeps trying to match the sounds of the forest with something it is familiar with. It takes a second or two for it to catch on that we’re not in Kansas anymore.



There are only six things to do at the Gombe Forest Camp, which I think makes it the most peaceful place I’ve ever stayed. You can (1) sleep, (2) eat, (3) read, (4) write, (5) go to the lake, or (6) talk. There is no wi-fi and cell signal only on the boat ride to Gombe. Fortunately there are some fun and interesting people here who enjoy talking and laughing, so most of our non-chimp chasing hours are spent hanging out. We’ve talked about life, death, religion, culture, politics (everyone here wants to talk about Trump), genetics, nature vs. nurture, family life, animal behavior, conservation, life in the bush, Africa, the United States, and pretty much everything else. When not talking, reading, or writing, I’ve managed to take a kayak out onto the lake, which was calm and lovely, although I was cautioned by the local staff not to go too far North or South because “sometimes problems with men from village.”



Athumani (pronounced Asumani, in the photo above) is a young Tanzanian man who studied wildlife and became a guide. He works for the Mbali Mbali Lodges company at Gombe Forest Camp. His English is excellent, although he has a thick Swahili accent. Athumani knows a lot about the wildlife in the region, and does the best imitation of a bush pig I’ve ever heard. I guess that’s not saying a lot because I’ve never heard another imitation of a bush pig, but what I mean to say is that it’s very good. He can also do all the different chimp communication calls, baboon talk, and I’m sure a host of other fantastic animal sounds that I haven’t been privileged to witness. Athumani is a great storyteller and loves to laugh. When he gets time off (which isn’t often, as they work 7 days a week) he goes into Kigoma “with my boyz” and parties at the discos. He likes Eminem and Nicki Minaj. We sang a short rendition of “Anaconda” until we were both laughing so hard that we could no longer get the words out.

The Tanzanians that I’ve come into contact with – granted, they are almost all in the service industry – have been incredibly welcoming. They smile freely and often, love to chat if you show interest, and are happy to help you with anything you like. Neil, the Professional Game Hunter, told us a story about how the locals in one remote hunting area felt bad that he had to sleep on the floor of their huts or drive 6-7 hours back to the main camp. So they built him a house in the off-season as a surprise gesture. A house!

Even the bathroom is supportive. Every time you use the facilities, if you remember to glance over at the new toilet paper roll, it says “Nice one.”



I am amazed at the quality of the meals here. The chef, a young local guy who went to culinary school, produces three course meals twice daily and a breakfast buffet with homemade breads. Meals range from curried fish kebabs, to chicken stuffed with mushrooms to American-style hamburgers (without the antibiotics). He has served the most delicious mashed potatoes molded into a shell shape with a light dusting of cinnamon, and fresh avocado and tomato salads.

But it’s the dessert where this guy just outdoes himself. One night we had chocolate ganache tarts with a ginger infused crust. The chef actually made 4 inch chocolate leaves to garnish the top of the tart. Another night he produced individual caramel flans, with the kind of candied toasted brown sugar topper that you would see on a Gordon Ramsey cooking show. And he’s doing all this in a tiny kitchen powered by a generator (and propane, I imagine) in the middle of the forest. Incredible.




Each of the three nights at camp, I sit at a bonfire overlooking Lake Tanganyika with a Kili beer in hand, and try not to feel too guilty that my husband is exhausted, dirty, and sleep deprived while I’m eating chocolate tarts.




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