Chapter Three: Kilimanjaro 


Kilimanjaro Here We Come!

Just before Thanksgiving, we will be circumnavigating Mt. Kilimanjaro in the comfort of Steve and Marilyn’s 4x4 Range Rover. Check the map for the towns we will visit: Moshi, Marangu (where most mountain ascents begin), Oloitokitok (near my childhood home of Lasit), Ol Molog and back to the Simonson home at Olasiti on the outskirts of Arusha. Kilimanjaro is the largest free-standing mountain in the world at 19,341 ft above sea level.

A future Letter from Tanzania will describe the highlights of this trip.


Below is a 1979 view of snow-capped Kilimanjaro from Moshi with my son David with his wife Debbie and their 2 kids. Jesse is seated between them and Ben is still in the womb.

They worked at International School (now part of United World College) in Moshi from 1978 to 1984. The 1959 BSA 650cc motorcycle was their only transportation for two years.

Ashe Naling (Thanks, in Maasai) for your interest.


Mums

Think of Holland and you think of tulips - in the millions.

But Holland also produces chrysanthemums, probably in the zillions.

A good percentage of the Dutch “mums” originate in Tanzania, exported by air as cuttings before they bloom.

Relatively cheap labor and land space makes Tanzania competitive on the world market for flower production.

At Machame, a mile-high on the slopes of Mount Kilimanjaro, sits the Dekker chrysanthemum “factory.” This is comprised of about twenty football field-size greenhouses. A very complex operation involving electricity, steam, refrigeration, bacteriology, botany, genetics, space heating, soil sterilization, land and air transport, lots of mountain water and, critically, the nimble fingers of 400+ local women bud harvesters.

The CEO of this operation is Heleen van der Vijver, married to our grandson, Caleb Simonson. They have two children Colin and Lianna. Our first stopover on our round-the-mountain trip was with them. Heleen took us on a detailed tour of the plant. I was amazed at her orchestration of every detail of this complexity.

If the usual US supply of mums from Colombia, South America, is interrupted, the next “mums” you see could have come from Machame.


Human Links in the Chain of Shaffer History

In the ‘30s my parents hosted in our home two Maasai orphan girls, Sophie and Mahoo. They were part of the family. The arrangement was between my parents and their good friend “Chief” Kulale. The probable alternative to this placement would have been female circumcision and childhood marriage.

Sophie went on to a stable marriage and a good family. One of her grandsons got a US “Green Card” and thence US citizenship.

Mahoo married a man in nearby Arusha, Tanzania. One of Mahoo’s daughters, Eva Kumary had a family AND a career in the tourism business in Kenya. While she worked as a manager in the “housekeeping” side of the business, she became proficient in the English language.

Now widowed and retired, she has focused her life on “Rescue” (one-by-one) of youngsters in special need. My sister Esther is sort of a soul mate to her.

Through that connection, Marilyn, Steve and I met Eva at the Tanzania-Kenya border at a tea kiosk in Tarekea.

With Eva was a 16-year-old Maasai boy, Nickson Sandkale, one of Eva’s “rescuees.” His father is an alcoholic with no resources other than a few cattle. But the boy gave me the impression of being of the caliber of Melita ole Kuney who at that moment was in Moshi getting his MD degree (see previous letter). My parents would have been exhilarated and very, very gratified.



Melita Ole Moinget: Masai M.D.

At Moshi we spent a couple of hours with Melita ole Moinget. Melita’s father is Moinget ole Kuney, a close family friend of many years. Melita was the next day going to receive his MD degree from KCMC (Kilimanjaro Christian Medical Center) where I once taught.
It was a thrill to see such a fine young man representing the Maasai people in the medical ranks. They, the Maasai, because of their focus on pastoralism have been relatively late arrivals in academia. Melita’s interest is firmly in surgery. I can easily project him as another DeBakery or Cushing.
From our visit with Melita we headed for Marangu with its many memories.

Marangu Hotel

In my youth in the ‘30s we lived at Lasit, Kenya 40 miles around Kili from Marangu.

We were family-friendly with the Lany family at Marangu. In the ‘20s they had come there as missionary-craftsmen from Czecho-slovakia. Shortage of support forced them into farming (coffee and cattle). Then when the depression of the ‘30s collapsed the price of coffee they resorted to having “paying guests,” mainly up from passenger liners in Mombasa. Hence “Marangu Hotel.”

So, the Shaffer family connection to the Marangu Hotel has been personal, close and enduring.

We occupied rooms looking out over a lawn to Kibo, the summit peak of Kili. The sinking afternoon sun had a kaleidoscopic effect on the summit snows. Then when all had turned dark the full moon arrived, gradually painting the scene in mellow gold.

“Ahhhhhh !!!!”


Tree-cology

When I was a kid we spent happy times on the slopes of Kilimanjaro.

We drove from our home Lasit up into the (then) dense tropical rainforest.

While Dad negotiated with pit-sawyers for lumber planks we would hike, wade, picnic and watch colobus monkeys. The pit-sawyers were small-time African entrepreneurs (teams of 2 or 3) who did the very laborious work of plunging a 10’, two-man saw up and down slicing a tree trunk into planks. Their influence on the habitat was immeasurably small.

Then came the economic advisors from various western countries. They showed how much money could be made from planta-tions of pine trees (for lumber). On the whole northeast face of Kili the indigenous rain forest was almost entirely ripped out and re-placed with pine plantations. It now looks like rural Georgia. Very sad!

This in addition to the disappearance of the glacial “cap” on Kibo peak.

West Kili

We are seated on the veranda of a farm whose modern (Europe-an) farming origins go back maybe 100 years.

Or course the Maasai people had been grazing these slopes (of Kilimanjaro) for hundreds of years prior to that. (The story of that transition is too complicated for this letter)

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