April 2014
FEATURES
The Southwest Portland Post • 5
Multnomah Village resident ventures to climb Africa’s highest mountain
POSTCARD FROM
KILIMANJARO
By Maria Thi Mai
Last December I traded my bike
shoes for hiking boots. In the dead
of winter and the shortest days of
the year, I stepped out my door in
Multnomah Village at 5:30 a.m. and
walked to work.
For two months I trekked back
and forth over Terwilliger Boule-
vard. Each step brought me closer to
a childhood dream. These 10-mile a
day treks were all about condition-
ing just so I could check one last
continent off my bucket list—Africa.
Our adventure started in Port-
land and then on to Seattle, Dubai,
Nairobi, Dar es Salaam, and Mt.
Kilimanjaro. Three days and a series
of calamities later, we finally arrived
in Moshi, Tanzania. Here we met
our guides and prepared to reach a
new high, and I mean that literally.
Thanks to a friend’s nephew who
hooked us up with Gladys Adven-
tures while in the Peace Corps, we
had the best tour company in all of
Tanzania. Gladys Adventures is a
rare breed of successful women-
owned tour companies.
Gladys and her staff provide
custom tours with Tanzanian kind-
ness. When we first met Gladys she
hugged us like family.
A day after our arrival, we re-
packed our bags, separating climb-
ing gear from safari clothes and
handed two 25-pound duffle bags
to our porters. Let the adventure
begin.
Climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro takes
a village. We had nine porters, two
guides, a cook and a waiter for a
total of 13 people to help get just
the two of us up the mountain. Let
me say that again. We had 13 people
supporting just the two of us. We felt
like royalty.
With porters carrying all our gear,
all we had to do was carry a small
daypack with water and an extra
jacket and walk “poly poly.” Walk-
ing poly poly is the Swahili word
for slow slow. We were reminded of
this for the next 6 days and 40 some
odd miles.
Without a doubt the hardest part
of the climb is “Summit Day”. Up
until this time our days went like
this: get up about 6:00 a.m., eat, pack
and hike about four to five hours.
We then rest, have lunch, then do
an acclimatization hike for another
two to three hours.
These first four days took us from
about 7,000 feet to 15,000 feet. Kibo
Hut is the base camp on the Rongai
route and where we prepared for
Summit Day that is really Summit
Night.
After hiking for about five hours
we arrived at base camp in the early
afternoon. At 15,000 feet I didn’t
have much of an appetite and found
myself out of breath walking 50
yards to the bathroom and back to
our tent.
Nonetheless, we rested and pre-
pared for our midnight ascent.
When we awoke at about 11:00 p.m.
and crawled out of our tent, the full
moon illuminated tiny lights twist-
ing up the mountain like constel-
lations.
I asked our guide, August, what
time did they start to be that far up
the mountain when we hadn’t even
started. He calmly said, they might
be going slower and not to worry.
He was right.
Just when I didn’t think I could
walk any slower, August and Ignas
slowed the pace down even further
as the gravel rock crunched beneath
our feet. Walking poly poly we crept
higher, from 15,000 feet to Gilman’s
Point at 17,000 feet.
From here to the summit, you lis-
ten to your breath and concentrate
on putting one foot in front of the
other. No singing. No talking. Just
breathing.
As the moon gives way to day-
break, we see hundreds of people
converging from the other routes to
the spine of Mt. Kilimanjaro. Excite-
ment rises. We are almost there. Yes,
we did it – I celebrate my seventh
continent on the summit of Mt.
Kilimanjaro.
Now that we have reached the
summit, you’d think the story ends.
Maria Thi Mai, with guide Ignas Kimath, en route to Mt. Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, Feb. 10.
(Photo by Kenyon Fink)
Not so. After taking the ubiquitous
photos and video wishing everyone
a Happy Valentine’s Day, Kenyon ,
my boyfriend, stoops down, starts
digging through his pack and mum-
bles something about one more pic.
Agitated with the growing hoards
of people, I say, “Let’s go, I’m get-
ting chilled.” Our guides, August
and Ignas, huddle close and start
singing “One Love” and Kenyon’s
numb fingers hold up a shiny ring.
Truly surprised, I say “yes” and we
all cry tears of joy. I later learned,
Kenyon had been choreographing
and rehearsing the whole way up.
Now back in Multnomah Village,
I can proudly say, my bucket list is
nearly full.
Editor’s Note: Where in the world
are you going? Don’t forget to send us
a postcard! Travel essays and photos for
“Postcards” are welcome. Email essays
as Word document attachments and
limit essays to 500 words. Email color
or black & white photos at least 3 x 5 at
300 dots per inch. The Post welcomes
reader response.
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