Finding My Inner Child on Kilimanjaro... What a Brat!

I was in one of the poorest countries on earth, and I felt sorry for myself.

While I was stumbling up Mt. Kilimanjaro I was passed by our eight hired porters sprinting up the mountain in flip flops while balancing our heavy luggage on their heads. All I could think was: they are in such great shape! I was jealous of their thinness. Meanwhile my pudge strained against the waist strap of my tiny day pack.

I sulked about my tummy, and also the extravagant expense of so many porters. Kilimanjaro National Park required us to hire porters and a guide. The cheapest outfitter we could find charged us $1470 each, a staggering price.

But, I should admit, the cost afforded us luxury for our six-day trek up the Machame route. The porters carried up a whole table and chairs for Alden and me to have our private dining tent.

Every day they would wake us up with our choice of coffee, cocoa, or tea served to us in our tent. I always requested coffee mixed with cocoa. For breakfast, they gave us hot dogs. For some reason, they tasted amazing, even though I hadn’t liked them before or since. The mountain air must have affected my diet. For dinner, we often had coconut curry soup. The meals were enormous when we first started the hike, but as we kept going they became less and less. On the fourth morning, there were no hot dogs at breakfast.

“Where the fuck are the hot dogs?” My PMS shouted out for me.

“Shh, Lauren,” Alden looked embarrassed.

Our guide, Saumu, the only female guide on the mountain, opened the dining tent flap, letting in a blast of alpine pre-dawn air. “Something the matter, Lauren?”

I tried to smile sweetly. “Would it be possible to have hot dogs this morning?”

“I’m sorry, Lauren. There are no more left. Usually people become less hungry as they move further up the mountain. It is the altitude I think.”

I felt furious, but I didn’t want Saumu to know my weakness. “All right then.”

We stepped out of the tent into brilliant dawn. The Barranco Campsite was at 13,000 feet, the low orange sun warmed the moon crater landscape and the snow covered peak glowed in the distance. We had started our journey at 5,400 feet in a rainforest dotted with monkeys and filled with the songs of brightly colored birds. As we went higher and higher the trees became the shrubs of the moorland and tiny rodents and drab birds were the only wildlife. In only four days and 8000 feet the life had drained away.

The porters packed up our things and sprinted ahead of us. We began our hike. Alden and I walked side by side, Saumu chatted with a guide from the party behind us.

Alden leaned in close to me. “The porters and Saumu are doing a really great job,” he panted quietly, struggling in the thin air, and not wanting to be overheard. “We should give them at least a 20% tip at the end.”

“Are you serious?” I yelled.

“Shh.”

I gritted my teeth. “I can’t afford to pay three hundred bucks on top of what I’ve already paid! I don’t have a job lined up for next year!”

“You’ll get a job eventually.”

“That’s easy for you to say! You don’t know what it’s like.” Gasping for breath I hurried away from Alden up the trail, trying to run but staggering on the steep incline and rocks.

“Pole! Pole!” Slow down! Saumu yelled at me.

“You’re going to make yourself sick!” Alden said.

I noticed the outhouse a hundred yards ahead of me. It was a good excuse. “I’m just going to run up to the bathroom!”

When I reached the outhouse, it was occupied. I stood back to wait, then promptly fell over, hitting my shoulder on the dusty ground. Waves of dizziness tossed around my vision like an undertow and pummeled my temples. For a few seconds, I could not see.

When Alden and Saumu caught up to me I was stumbling to my feet like a newborn giraffe. They looked at me with concern. “I’m fine,” I said.

Saumu pulled out some cookies from her pocket. “Glad to hear it. Let’s sit for a minute and have a snack.”

As always, she reacted with compassion and logic. Feeling much better, I began walking side by side with Alden.

“You’re right,” I told him quietly, “they deserve more pay.”

“I’ll cover your half,” Alden said.

I blushed with shame and relief.

The summit day we were woken up at 11 PM with coffee and cocoa in the tent. Icy wind poured in from behind the porter. With my headlamp, I saw that the meal tent had not been set up.

“What about breakfast?” I asked indignantly.

“No time for that miss. Most folks aren’t hungry this high up the mountain.”

“Well I am hungry, and I’m not hiking without eating something.”

Almost immediately Saumu was at the tent side. “Would you like some more cookies Lauren?”

“Yes, please.” I felt like a child. I took five and passed the package to Alden.

He shook his head. “I feel too dizzy.”

We began the push for the summit. A long snaking line of headlamps already was leading up the mountain, letting us know that we were so far from the top. The wind became more punishing, yanking at my clothes, and roaring into my ears. The cold air sank into my layers which I had incorrectly pulled on in the dark: my wind layer was under my down jacket. While still staggering up the incline, I tried to switch the jackets, but my hand was too cold to pull the zipper. Stupid from altitude sickness, I began to cry.

“What’s wrong, Lauren?” Saumu pulled up to my side on the narrow trail. “Oh, your jackets are all wrong. Let me help you.”

We pulled off the trail. Saumu yanked off my two coats quickly and put them on in the right order before the chill set in while I sniffled.

She zipped the wind layer up to the neck. “There, that’s better.”

I just cried harder. “What’s wrong?”

I wailed, “I have to pee, and it’s too cold!”

“Now now, you’ll feel better once you do it. Let me find you someplace out of the wind.” She hiked me behind a large boulder.

Relieved and feeling much better now that my layers were correct and I wasn’t spending pressures calories to warm up unnecessary liquid, I fell into slow step behind Alden. The wind was too loud to speak, also I had to concentrate all my energy on not falling over as I became more lightheaded.  

After what must have been hours, I couldn’t see any more headlights above: were we close to the top? After rounding a curve the answer came in the form an impossibly long string of lights: we were nowhere near.

“Ugh!” I wailed.

“How about we take a quick break?” Saumu offered, leading us of trail behind a boulder shield from the wind.

“Do you have any cookies?”

Saumu shook her head. “I’m sorry, we are all out.”

I could feel my face pinching up, about to cry icicle tears. “I still have some chocolate pretzels, Lauren. You can finish them. I don’t feel hungry at all,” Alden offered.

“Thanks! I took off my mitten and gasped. The air felt like an ice bath, so I tried to grab the pretzels from the bag quickly. I dug my hands in the bag over and over but I was not able to pick up even a single one!  Alden and Saumu roared with laughter. Tears sprung to my eyes. Why were they laughing at me? Why don’t they just help me?

“Lauren!” Saumu gasped between peals of laughter, “you need to put your hand in the bag.”

“What?” I struggled to focus my eyes on the bag which wobbled and wavered with my waves of dizziness. Then I saw it: I had been trying to pick up the pictures of the pretzels, I didn’t even have my hand in the bag!

Mystery solved, I shoveled a handful of pretzels into my mouth. They were so cold they hurt, but as I chewed, the chocolatey goodness soothed. I put my hand in for another. “I can’t believe you are so hungry,” Alden said.

It felt like an accusation.

“I can’t help it! We’ve been hiking for hours and hours! How are you not hungry?”

“Don’t worry, Lauren. It’s good that you are hungry.” Saumu reassured me. “And we are getting close to the top. Look there: the sun is beginning to rise.” The palest orange beams were reflected in a smooth mirror surrounded by clouds. It took me a minute to realize what I was seeing.

“It’s the glacier!” I cried. “I never saw a glacier before, it’s so beautiful!” My heart sped up, but it felt more like euphoria than anxiety. We put our packs on and kept going.

We finally made it to the summit. We had to stand in line to get our picture taken in front of the “Uhuru Peak” sign.  The sun was finally rising above the clouds. Looking down, we could see the glacier below. It was so high up it felt like an airplane. I felt overwhelmed with gratitude: towards Alden for bringing me to this beautiful place and towards Saumu, for her kindness that brought me up the mountain.

“Next!” We linked arms and smiled at the camera.