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Saved: September 15th 2021
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Our "West Turkana" drillsite was located in northern Turkana, just off the west shore of the lake near North Island. To get there, we flew from Nairobi to Lodwar. I had been excited about having a window seat on the little plane, but a woman with a baby took it instead (and how could I make her move)? I ended up with someone else's carry-on bag in my foot space, and the baby smelled like poopy nappies for most of the flight. My disappointment at missing out on the views was slightly eased by the fact that it was cloudy for most of the flight.
When we disembarked at the Lodwar airstrip, I felt like I'd finally arrived in Africa. The heat, the dust, the clamber of people on the other side of the fence waiting to greet arriving passengers... After a quick drive in the back of a land cruiser, we arrived at St. Theresa's for the night. It's gardens and trees were a shady oasis from the hot sun, and they'd done a remarkable job cleaning up from the floods just a few months earlier.
The next morning we met up with the lorrie that had driven
up from Nairobi with our equipment, and headed up the road to camp and the drillsite. What was supposed to be a four-hour drive turned into about six, as we were delayed when the lorrie got stuck, and had to go slowly because the bumps were too much for the people in the back of the land cruiser (although I personally enjoyed it). The worst part of the road was actually the paved road between Lodwar and Kalakol which was in a sad state of repair. Still, there were many people on it, locals on foot and on bicycles. Most women were carrying water jugs or baskets on their heads. Most men carried their stool-headrests and walking stick-weapons.
We passed a small group of standing stones - legend says they are dancers turned to stone, but the truth is the stones were standing here before the Turkana people arrived in the area, and who placed them is not yet known. Just past the town of Kalakol, we had to cross the Kalakol River, which was where the lorrie got stuck a few times in the crossing. If water had been flowing in the laga (local word for river), we
wouldn't have been able to cross at all.
After crossing the laga, the road winds through the trees and floodplains, and finally Lake Turkana, the Jade Sea, comes into view and sand dunes rise up next to the lake.
The further north we got, the fewer people we saw on the road, except in the villages. Because this road is one that is used to deliver aid, the villages along the road have grown, and they were full of friendly, waving children calling out, "How are you? How are you?" Some of the villages had cinder-block buildings, but the most common buildings and shelters were the traditional woven huts.
Arrival at our camp felt like arriving at an oasis. We clambered into the mess tent and crowded under the air-conditioner, gulping down cold water, for our safety briefing. I'll save the details about life in camp for another post.
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Dancing Dave
David Hooper
FOLLOW THAT ROAD
I've put this on the Follow that Road thread in the Photographic Forum...magic pic. Hope your time in Kenya is rewarding...looking forward to pics of Lake Turkana