The Independent on Sunday, London, 5 November 2000
Ultimate Guide: Travel
Neil Walker explores a camp in Maasai land.
In the twilight zone between wakefulness and deep sleep I was aroused by
the sound of very loud snoring. Snoring? The nearest tent to mine was 50 yards away.
Then it registered that this was not snoring, but roaring. The Kenyan
equivalent of moggies prowling around the dustbins in the neighbourhood, looking for a
tidbit. Next morning we found the spoor of two lions a quarter of a mile from the
isolated group of dark green tents which constitute Porini Camp deep in newly formed
Eselenkei Conservation Area. I was slightly discomfited to learn that a lioness had
wandered into camp one night but the Maasai guards had chased her out again.
I was reminded of a recent newspaper story about a hapless young man who
had been dragged by a lion from his tent because he had failed to fasten the flaps,
and made a mental note to pull the zips tight in future.
But then, I suspect a little danger is hope for by most people who go to
see the wildlife of Africa. Nothing too serious of course; perhaps some belligerant
bellowing from an irritated bull elephant, or a sham charge from a rhino. Or just the feeling
that you could be walking along a dry river bed and suddenly come face to face with a
leopard feasting on a fresh kill.
For anyone looking for the tingle factor, the chances of such encounters
are pretty thin. Most tourists heading into Kenya`s many wildlife reserves are offered
"guaranteed window seats" and a rather anodyne game watching experience
which can bear a remarkable similarity to visiting Woburn`s wildlife park.
Before arriving at Porini Camp I`d spent a day driving through Amboseli
National Park which rests at the feet of Mount Kilimanjaro. On this vast plain, kept
green by the mountain`s meltwater, it is no problem getting close to groups of stout
bellied zebra, skittish gazelle, great yawning hippos, and families of dainty-hooved
warthogs which come skipping conveniently past your window. To begin with I was as excited
as the rest as I clicked my way through film after film. But it soon paled as it
occurred to me that this felt more like a zoo on a grand scale than any kind of wildlife
experience.
Porini turned out to be completely different. It is an experiment in eco-tourism
dreamed up by Jake Grieves-Cook, a man who`s spent a lifetime shipping
Brits out to Kenya to take a look at the lions, and who now says he want to "put
something back." There are few words more likely to send a shudder of scepticism through my
bones than "eco-tourism." The compilers of holiday brochures seem to think that
anything with a vague animal/plant/birds connection can be described as "eco"
despite the fact that in most cases the tourists are still taking a good deal more from the
environment than they are putting in. I often find that many people who want to make an
environmental contribution are well intentioned but lack the knowledge or
the money to make it happen. Exceptionally Jake Grieves-Cook`s experiment promises to
reverse the norm.
My journey to the Eselenkei Reserve was along bone-shaking dirt roads
which threw up clouds of dust the colour of dried blood. Three hours drive south from
Nairobi we stopped at a log barrier stretched across the road manned by a tall Maasai
wearing a dark green uniform. "These are our own park rangers,"explained Jake. "We
gave them uniforms to wear while they are on patrol. The rest of the time, if they
are in camp or building roads, they wear their traditional red Maasai robes."
Camp turned out to be a collection of huge green tents scattered among a
belt of trees. I wasn`t expecting luxury but I was wrong. Inside my "room" was a double
bed, wardrobe, dressing table, bedside lamps, shower, and flushing w.c. No
telephone of course, but then if you want to call room service you just yell and a
beaming shiny face appears within seconds. But hang on! Surely this isn`t very eco-friendly?
"The furniture we bought from guys who make it at the side of the road,"
explained Doug, the camp manager. "We drilled our own well for water and the wc
flushes into a huge pit latrine. The electricity is generated by photovoltaic cells.
"We built this camp in such a way that we can dismantle it within 24 hours,
fill in the holes, and you`d never know we`d been here," he added proudly.
When I took a shower later to wash off the dust I was first treated to the
sound of the giggling Maasai as they stood on step ladders to fill the overhead tank
with hot water, which then emerged as a powerful and very welcome dribble, smelling faintly
of woodsmoke.
Porini Camp slap bang in the heart of Maasai land, close to but not inside
any of the national game parks. At one time the Maasai wandered freely across Kenya,
tending their cattle and enjoying the odd tribal skirmish. Traditionally they were
neither hunters nor farmers and their meat came from their herds of cattle, sheep and
goats, washed down with milk or cow`s blood. Consequently the only wildlife they were in
conflict with were the big cats and hyenas which preyed on their livestock.
In the dry season the Maasai moved their herds closer to Kilimanjaro. But
this was the very land seized by the Government to turn into national parks, a move
which suited the wildlife and the tourists, but didn`t do the Maasai any favours. When
the droughts arrive, as they did this year, there is a great temptation to cross the
line and move the cattle into the parks for water and grazing. Its a risky strategy which, in
July, earned one group of drovers six weeks in prison "to serve as a lesson to others"
according to the magistrate.
Which is where Jake Grieves-Cook comes in. As a young man he had
camped
at Eselenkei and knew its potential as a wildlife reserve. By patient negotiation he persuaded the Maasai elders to try his radical plan. He would offer them a 15 year rent for 13,000 acres of their land. In turn they would keep their cattle out, stop harassing the
lions and generally encourage the wildlife. Many of the Maasai men would receive employment building 40 miles of road through the game area; they would also work as wardens, and the community as a whole would receive a bounty for each head of tourist who arrived, though numbers would be strictly limited to a maximum of 16 per week so as to minimise their impact.
At first the Maasai were sceptical. Bitter experience has taught them that promises are
cheap and usually broken. But the Maasai have lately come to the conclusion
that they are lagging behind the rest of their countrymen. Their children are less
well educated, and a population explosion has forced them to begin to curtail their
wanderings and begin growing crops. Finally they have come to realise that they need to
earn money if they are to survive as a cohesive group. This sudden awakening has even
seen girls getting educated, and women elected to the council of elders.
The Porini experiment has taken five years to get going and this summer I was among the first of the tourists to try it out. Grieves-Cook reckons it has cost $200,000 to set it up, half of which came from
a loan from the International Fund for Animal Welfare. Porini is already paying its way, but will take ten years to clawback the initial investment. Profits after that time will go towards new projects to assist the animals and the community.
Already some benefits can be seen. Grieves-Cook has contributed to the building of a classroom
at a nearby school and the Maasai have been able to afford two extra teachers. Four waterholes for the wildlife and two boreholes for the cattle have been sunk, which means the number of animals on the reserve is now increasing. One development is the Maasai women no longer sing about their lovers killing lions, but of conservation instead.
As I walked along a parched river bed with three Maasai warriors I was curious to know whether they welcomed all these changes. Oh yes, they said, they enjoyed the opportunity to earn money by building roads. One man said he was no longer forced to sell his cattle to find money to send his children to the missionary doctor. But what about doing menial tasks like washing up or cooking in camp? No,
they enjoyed meeting the foreigners and performing their dance ( a strange affair where five men jog very close together and take turns at springing high into the air as if on invisible pogo sticks).
I wanted to know how they would prove their manhood now they no longer are allowed to kill the lions. All three collapsed in hysterical laughter, and when they finally dried their eyes they replied "There are ways, there are ways."
During my three days I spent at Eselenkei we glimpsed giraffe peering at us curiously through the thick shrub before loping off, stiff legged, into the brush. We abandoned breakfast mid-muesli when a Maasai dashed into camp saying two cheetah had just been sighted... more new arrivals onto the reserve. We found their tracks soon enough, but the cheetahs were long gone. We went on midnight drives, turning our searchlights on bat-eared foxes and mongooses, gazelle, and porcupine.
More often than not it was a glimpse here, the back end of something there, or often just tracks in the sand. And yet it was infinitely more rewarding and exciting than the safari park experience of Amboseli, with its minibuses offering guaranteed window seats and a constant parade of animals on tap.
If Porini Camp proves to be successful..... and Kenya`s tourist chiefs are watching with close interest... it promises to offer a fascinating alternative for the comfort-loving, wildlife watching eco-tourist. And just for once there might be some genuine benefits for the locals, whether they have four legs or two.
PORINI ECOTOURISM
