Slowly, slowly to the Kili top

Slowly, slowly to the Kili top
A hiker trades in money for happiness at Africa’s highest mountain Kilimanjaro
By Usman Hayat

It’s 5,895 meters high, it’s majestic, it’s Africa’s highest mountain — it’s Kilimanjaro. I felt a mix of joy and exhaustion on the Uhuru peak, the highest point on Kilimanjaro on September 26, 2011 — we were on the top, breathless after the long hike but mesmerised by the views all around us; clear blue sky, glaciers and barren valleys… The wonderful experience of hiking Kilimanjaro overpowered us.

Ours was a small but diverse group of five tourists: an American from New York, an English couple from Birmingham, a Brazilian studying in the UK, and me, a Pakistani living in London. To hike up to the 5,895 meters (19,341 feet), we had to brave the high altitude, suffer freezing nights, and endure scorching days. Of the different routes to the summit, we followed a variant of the Rongai route.

The hike had its contrasts — one day we were filled with dust and next day soaked in rain water.

Kili challenges most people, particularly the urbanites who think the hike is too easy or those, who, like me, have a ‘less-than-great’ sleeping bag in the freezing nights at 4000 meters high.

Yet, Kili is kind. Unlike most other peaks of similar height, Kili allows hikers to reach its summit without any technical climbing or life-threatening risks.

So, what’s the secret to successfully hike Kili? Apparently, “pollaepollae” to put it in Swahili, meaning “slowly slowly”, our porters told us.

Kili was not going anywhere and we were in no rush either. By hiking at a slow pace, we stayed calm, did not exhaust ourselves — and acclimatised better.

After spending four days hiking up to a place called the School Hut, we started the ascent to summit past midnight. It was so cold that the water froze inside my hydration pouch and blood seemed to freeze in my limbs. The altitude, the darkness, the steep slopes, and the long hike all got together to make our life difficult. Soon we were dragging our feet in a dazed state. Every step made us breathless. Every metre was a struggle. Our guide calmly told us there was nothing to worry because, “This is normal on Kili”.

I noticed that most of the hikers looked like zombies though some looked zombier than the others! Those who looked the zombiest had to give up and in a few cases were rushed down on stretchers.

If being a professional means being good at what you do, the Kili porters were indeed professionals. They were polite — and surprisingly some were females too. Some of them spoke English. I saw one walking up the mountain carrying a stretcher that, he said, weighed 50 kg. Now that’s a lot of kilos for one man to carry at above 3000 meters.

Well-trained and experienced, the Kili porters knew all the right things to do at the right time. When we were exhausted, they cheered us up with a song; when the water froze in our hydration pouches, they pulled water bottles from their packs; when we were thinking of having a picture, they readily took one for us; and when we seemed set to reach the summit, they pulled out Pringles and Red Bull to celebrate. What more can you ask for?

I turned vegetarian during the hike. It was good for faith and stomach. But I was the only vegetarian in the group and it made cooking a bit difficult for our cook. One of our porters who suspected I craved for halal meat introduced me to the cook — who had a distinct Muslim name. He told me, with a generous use of ‘inshallah’ and ‘mashallah’, that he buys meat from Muslim butchers in Arusha town, therefore, it is ‘halal’ by default.

Satisfied, henceforth, I ate everything that was on offer. Most of the meals were tasty but there were some unusual dishes as well, such as banana and beef stew, not a combination I had come across ever before.

It is a long and tiring five hours hike from Kibo Hut (4703 meters) to Stella Point (5745 meters) before you make the final ascent to the summit. But on the way back, you can come down in just about half an hour. This is how it works.

Kili is covered with scree from Stella Point to Kibo Hut. As soon as we walked down the steepest part, a porter grabbed each of us by one arm and started running downhill as if we were skiing. The slope was littered with rocks and a fall was bound to hurt. In the beginning we were fearful of what was happening but the porters knew what they were doing and soon our fear gave way to fun. Despite being tired, we went with the flow and were glad to get back to our camp well in time.

Most other hikes, including some of those that are longer, such as the one to the Everest base camp, tend to cost less than the Kili hike. This is surprising because Tanzania is even poorer than Pakistan, labour and food is cheap and the mountain is free. Our guide explained to me that a significant chunk goes to a foreign company that sells the package to westerners and the national park which levies a seemingly exorbitant fee. For the porters, despite the hard work, the money they make on Kili remains much better than what other professions offer. I asked our guide if Tanzanians could earn more by dropping the prices. He laughed it off, and told me the national park jacked up its prices because it gets more hikers than there is space in the camps. He added that even with the record high prices, hikers just keep on coming.

So, it’s ‘pollaepollae’ for the Kili tourist and ‘hakunamatata’ for the Kili tourism!

As we were finishing the hike and getting back into the bus to Arusha, the lasting feeling I had was that a hiker trades in money for happiness at Kili — and that’s not such a bad bargain.