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February 2011

We're back, and just about recovered from our adventure.  So a bit about how it was...it was mad!  Hard hard hard! 

There were just 7 in our group - a Canadian guy, an American guy, and 3 other girls representing the North of England.  Then there was our tour leader (from the UK), 2 assistant tour leaders (Tanzanian) and 21 crew - amazing porters who lugged all our stuff for us, set up our campsites, individual tents and a mess tent.  And a chef!  You wouldn't believe the food he could rustle up on a calor gas stove in a tiny kitchen tent. 

Each day started with a call and cuppa in the tent at 6.30AM, breakfast in the mess tent at 7, then we started walking by 8.  Sounds fine, except that fighting with a sleeping bag and thermorest mat reluctant to go back into their bags when you're starved of oxygen is a trial!  No training can prepare you for altitude.  Most of us suffered it to some degree, some of us to the point of wanting to give up.  At altitude, the air pressure is lower, so your body takes up less oxygen with each breath.  Your heart rate pretty much doubles to help get the smaller amount of oxygen to where it needs to be, and you feel fatigued very quickly.  So you do everything at a snail's pace. Thankfully, the symptoms resolved gradually as we carried on.

Not washing was grim - Kilimajaro is a dusty, dirty mountain to live on.  We were lucky toilet-wise though - we had our very own tiny weeny portaloo inside its own little tent.  Often precariously perched on uneven ground, and pretty stinky but infinitely preferrable to the alternative 'long-drop latrines'.  Having to drink 5 - 6 litres of water a day meant it took a pounding, poor loo.  Or should I say poor Wencesles, the guy who had the unenviable job of looking after our little luxury! 

And so to the summit climb.  The wind was ferocious the evening of our climb.  We spent most of the day resting as best we could as it howled outside the tent.  Until that day, the mountain had seemed almost exclusively ours.  Not so at base camp - big groups were arriving, and others leaving after summitting the night before.  One group coming down was seriously delayed because someone had to be 'rescued' - eek!  Bit of a misnoma, since being rescued meant one or two porters propping the happless person up as best they could to make the walk down.  Finally, after a group gathering to take immodium to try to combat extreme altitude trotts (seriously, bouts can happen spontaneously once you hit 5000m), we set off at around midnight...kitted out in layers of cold weather gear and a head torch.  After a short time we had to peel a fair bit of that gear off as we started to overheat...well, it was only a mere minus 10 at that point, so we were well overdressed.  Looking upwards everything was total darkness apart from a long string of head torches stretching into the distance.  That ferocious wind made things tough, forcing grit into our eyes, nose and mouth.  Blowing your nose was agony, as it was like rubbing your nose with coarse sandpaper.  It was easier to let it drip...well, as far as semi-frozen snot can drip!  It felt like only a couple of hours had passed when the sun started to come up.  In reality, it had been between 5 and 6 hours of putting one foot in front of the other and taking the odd break to eat Kendal mint cake and dextrosol for an energy boost.  No water, as our water carriers froze within an hour of setting off.  We made it to Stella Point just after daylight.  We stopped there briefly, but the wind made it impossible to sit and rest.  We realised then just how totally exhausted we were from trudging through scree for hours on end.  Suddenly, a guide grabbed each of us and started dragging us for the next hour up to Uhuru Peak.  And so we stood on the Roof of Africa at around 8AM.  It was pretty amazing.  It's dangerous to hang around at the summit because the altitude starts doing its worst if you linger, so after a very quick photo stop, we were once again being dragged, but now back down.  That was hell - all wrapped up for the sub-zero temperatures as the sun got blistering hot.  I thought I was going to die!  Two hours later we were collapsed in the tent with blackened faces from the grit and our lovely new cold weather gear no longer black, but pale dust coloured and thick and heavy with grit.

That first cold beer back in Moshi was heavenly, as were the others that followed the long hot shower:-)  

 

And so the fund raising goes on...  Why did we do this?  One simple reason...to put smiles on faces of children who, without help, will face sad, lonely lives.

Did you know:

- a baby is born every 2.5 minutes with a cleft lip of palate?

- 75% of cleft cases in the developing world go untreated?

- clefts affect a child's ability to breathe, eat, drink and speak?

- children with clefts will often live a lifetime in isolation?

Its hard for us to imagine that, in some cultures, children with disabilities or deformaties are seen as bad spirits, or the result of their parents' bad deeds. In societies where communities are close-knit, these families are often outcasts.  In hundreds of thousands of cases, families are too poor to get treatment for their child, or they don't know it's available or possible.

That's where Operation Smile comes in - in just 45 minutes and for £150 they can change a child's life forever.  

If you're not convinced yet, please watch one of the short videos on Operation Smile's website to see just how a little life can change overnight.  

Donating through JustGiving is simple, fast and totally secure. Your details are safe with JustGiving – they’ll never sell them on or send unwanted emails. Once you donate, they’ll send your money directly to Operation Smile and make sure Gift Aid is reclaimed on every eligible donation by a UK taxpayer. So it’s the most efficient way to donate - we raise more, whilst saving time and cutting costs for the charity.

So please please please dig deep and donate now.

Please note - EVERY PENNY you donate goes to Operation Smile.  Your money will NOT be paying for our trip.

Roz and Wendy xx