africa

Trip to the roof of Africa by Tim Mahlberg

A couple of months ago I returned to Australia from Africa where my Mum and I went to explore an tackle the climb up Mt Kilimanjaro. When I'm asked how it went, the two things that come to mind are "epic" and "the hardest thing I've ever done in my life". As mentioned in previous blogs, we chose to climb for a cause, supporting Plan International's gender equality projects in Africa helping education for girls in Uganda. Knowing that it was for a purpose bigger than us definitely helped in the early hours on the final ascent.

We were a group of 10, with me the only guy, and Mum the oldest woman. She became somewhat of a rockstar to the other younger women climbing and the group of Tanzanian male porters supporting us. Apparently, not too many 60-something people scale mountains, but she is pretty unique.

Photo credit: Tim Mahlberg via helpful local guide

Photo credit: Tim Mahlberg via helpful local guide

Travelling in a single line, we traversed rainforest, along ancient craters, through shrubs and across alpine deserts. My intention for this walk was to be as mindful as possible, climbing with intention and really immersing myself in my surroundings. Almost meditative. What was unexpected was the response from the mountain. On the third day, I broke away from the group to connect deeper with the walk, and after about an hour, I found myself in a powerful rhythm, with every step connecting with this incredible icon of Africa. I was so moved by the spirit of Kilimanjaro that seemed to reach out to me and beckon for me to listen. My heart raced, my limbs tingled as I powered up this steep slope, jumped onto a massive rock outcrop, and stood out looking out across the continent, with the magnificent Mawenzi peak towering over me. I was incredibly alive in this one moment that lingered forever. As I gently turned, across my shoulder I caught my first glimpse of the peak we were destined to reach: Kibo.

Photo credit: Susanna Franco

Photo credit: Susanna Franco

It was as if two guardian souls were watching me experience something so profound. Just amazing. So, I sat down overlooking the valley and wrote:

With every step I take, I come to realise that I am being supported in my climb by greater forces.

With each step, as my shoes connect with the earth, I feel the mountain propel me forward. It is as though I am just an expression to the earth, a conscious part of it that longs to know itself.

Each breath of air I take in that fills my lungs and sustains my life, is the air coming to express itself through me.

The water that quenches my thirst and ensures that life on the earth can exist, and each mouthful reminds me that without it, I could never be. My existence is but a way that it can know itself.

And finally, as the sun beats down overhead, one of the billions of stars that exist, giving and sustaining life, I feel it feed by body with light.

I am but an expression of these elements, allowing them to realise their greatness in unison.
Photo credit: Tim Mahlberg

Photo credit: Tim Mahlberg

It took us 3 days to ascend from 1897m to 4720m above sea level before our final push up to the peak at 5895m. After arriving at Kibo Hut at about 5pm, we prepared for dinner, and lay to rest before waking at 11pm to start our climb at midnight. We were blessed with a full moon to guide us, which made it all the more special. We zigged and zagged up the rocky rubble of the mountain, ever so slowly. After a short time, we started to notice the profound impact of the lack of oxygen, the cold (minus 20°C) and the exhaustion started to set in. One of our group turned back, then another. After one short rest, I was hit by a wave of dizziness and started to sway and stagger. This was altitude sickness starting to set in, and consciousness seemed like something that could slip away like water through my hands. How would I be able to make it another 7+ hours to the summit? On reflection it is quite a scary experience, but something in me was determined to make it. In that moment, a peace came over me where the decision to make it or not was taken away. It was up to the mountain if it wanted me to make it, turn me away, or take me away. Death seemed just a natural likely option, of which I was completely ok with. And so, with one step in front of the other ever so slowly, I continued. The connection with the mountain I'd experienced earlier echoed through me and gave me the strength to surrender and trust that I had little control over what would eventuate. It also gave me strength to take each step with my Mum as altitude started to take a firm hold of her too.

Photo credit: Tim Mahlberg

Photo credit: Tim Mahlberg

After 6 hours of painfully slow climbing, our feet and fingers freezing to the point of no feeling and fear of frostbite, we clambers over boulders to reach Gilman's Point at 5685m and catch the sun pierce the African horizon. It was all so surreal as we glanced down into the ancient volcano and the surrounding glaciers. After another 2 hours we found ourselves at Uhuru Peak, the top of the African continent. 

Photo credit: Tim Mahlberg via local guide who probably saved my life

Photo credit: Tim Mahlberg via local guide who probably saved my life

It is hard to remember the extent of the feeling of having made it; the emotion cannot be easily described. I remember the six of us that made it huddled together in a group embrace of support. All of us on the trip felt a deep bond as we shared a personal odyssey that pushed us to our edge.

I'm full of gratitude to the amazing team of guides and porters from Marangu Hotel who looked after us so well. Thanks also to Intrepid Travel for organising the trip and supporting us with our fundraising. I am grateful for being healthy enough to embark on the trip to begin with, and the opportunity to share this trip with my Mum. 

A tale of African Villages by Tim Mahlberg

I've been in Kenya for the last week travelling around with a small group of mostly Australians, and my Mum.

Photo credit: Tim Mahlberg

Photo credit: Tim Mahlberg

There is a common saying that it takes a village to raise a child, and during the week we have met many, many happy and smiling children who were so excited to see us visit them. Each day travelling in the bus meant waving to all the children we passed as they waved to us.

On the first day, we visited New Hope Children's Home, which supports 140 young girls and boys who are either orphans or from extreme poverty. On the way we dropped into the shops to collect some gifts for them... mine was coloured pencils and books for them to create their own journals of their future dreams. We were given a tour of the facilities, and how it was all built on donations from foreigners. There were a few volunteers who stay there for a few weeks to teach and play with the children. The kids performed some songs, and then we mucked around for about an hour. Here is a pic with me and 3 girls who live and study there. So much great spirit in them.

Photo credit: Tim Mahlberg

Photo credit: Tim Mahlberg

Here we are with a whole bunch of the kids giving the gifts we brought. I'm right at the back with 2 of them on my shoulders.

The New Hope Children's Home is also supported by the Intrepid Foundation, who we are travelling with. Check out www.theintrepidfoundation.org for all the projects they work with. This is the same foundation supporting the Project SAMA that Mum and I have been fundraising for in Uganda, and is similar to the New Hope project focusing on helping girls with education. We are so close to reaching our $6000 (Indian headress for a week!) so if you feel inspired, please donate here. 

The next day we camped in a village in Nakuru, in the magical Rift Valley, Kenya. In the morning, we were taken on a walk through the village to meet the women entrepreneurs who were supporting their village with a range of small business endeavours. Surrounding our every move was a whole group of young people, curious about these foreigners who were visiting. It is school holidays here in Kenya, so they have been occupying themselves with helping in the fields (lots of corn/maize) and football/soccer (a national obsession). I was instantly drawn to the groups of energetic young boys, and we hit it off instantly.

Photo credit: Tim Mahlberg

Photo credit: Tim Mahlberg

As the group watched the older women perform traditional dances and songs, I stayed with my new "gang" and sang and danced outside. We played, laughed, chased each other and fell rolling on the ground. I later learned that many of these boys were also orphans and had little contact with their fathers, so I felt humbled to be able to experience their youthful joy and happiness, and just hoped that I had made even a small difference with my time with them. One of the older ladies watched us chuckling to herself, and after came up to me and invited me to come and stay in the village again one day to spend more time with them. Pretty awesome.

Photo credit: Tim Mahlberg

Photo credit: Tim Mahlberg

As we were leaving they were still with me running after our truck, yelling "Bye Tim". It was almost heartbreaking to leave them.

Back on the road, we headed to the Maasai Mara, camping next to a village in Loita Hills. We met the chief and learnt about the Maasai ways, experiencing the traditional dances of the women and the Maasai warrior men. Again, many children were curious to meet us, taking our hands as we walked around their village.

Tim and Moses with matching checks!

Tim and Moses with matching checks!

One young man, Moses, stood out to me. Smart, articulate and well mannered, Moses is the son of the Chief and in line to take the responsibility for his father's tribe and land in the near future. Moses is 14 years old, beginning high school this year, and will begin his training as a warrior at 16 years until 25 years old when he will marry his first wife of his parents choosing.

His father, Joseph the Chief and regional tribe elder,  was passionate about balancing the traditional Maasai ways and progressive thinking, and ensured that education was available equally to boys and girls in his village. One of his daughters was a recent university graduate in business, yet still came back to the village to actively contribute to the community.

I feel compelled to continue my connection with Moses and his community, so we have exchanged details and committed to stay in touch. His asked if I could send him some photos of our time in his village, and a football for him to play with his siblings. I think I could manage that one for sure!

His father and I spoke about what could be possible for Moses to experience Australia as part of his education, and even his plans to become a doctor. It got me thinking about how possible this would be to support him in Australia for some study, and the positive impact this could have for him in his leadership journey for his community, and his own personal development. How amazing would it be for a boy from the Maasai tribe to visit Melbourne to learn about our culture, about our incredible Indigenous Australias, and bring it back to his people. I'm sure we could also learn so much from him too.

Moses and his brothers and sister with me.

Moses and his brothers and sister with me.

It struck me after writing this that most of my focus and energy during these village trips was on the children, and that they were a source of such motivation and inspiration for me. I've also reflected on the moments in The Village where we have had kids visit us, such as for Bottle for Botol events, or school excursions.  There is a different buzz in spaces where children are, and they give adults something different and exciting... maybe they remind us that there is an inner child in all of us that wants to play, be mischievious, learn and grow, be curious and go on adventures. Perhaps I feel like I'm the biggest kid of all in these villages, but I love that it allows me to connect with kids in a way that engages them. 

We need more opportunities and spaces to share and connect with our young people, outside of just our family life. Perhaps The Village can play a more active role in connecting generations and be a place for us all to let our inner child play.