I recently sang the Animaniac’s Nations of the World song at a gig and a friend asked, Sashi - how, and why, do you know that song?
Many moons ago, I moved from Dar es Salaam to Cairo then back to Dar es Salaam in a five month period. I was an erratic human who made impulsive decisions but this was extra, even for me. It was all in the wake of a break up of a long term relationship and a cancelled wedding.
Alcohol comprised two thirds of my food pyramid and there was a wooden stool at my favourite bar moulded to the shape of my bottom. My friend Sarah came into town from Iringa one night and asked if I wanted to go climb Kilimanjaro in June. I said, of course - it was only April and I was drunk.
But I didn’t pull out of the endeavour when I sobered up, or in the months that followed.
Nor did I train. The reality of climbing Africa’s highest mountain, a dormant volcano and the namesake of a Tanzanian beer, did not hit me while emails flew between two countries to sort the logistics. Five of the climbing group lived in Tanzania, four lived in the UK. Sarah led the charge and it was easy for me to follow. I’m no shepherd to lead a flock but I’m a most obedient sheep. We are climbing a mountain, I thought on the day I made my deposit, well detached from the reality of climbing said mountain.
I was distracted. I was navigating life being an ex fiancee and didn’t care whether the group took the Lemosho, Machame, Marangu or Rongai route to the summit. I knew they’d all be equally difficult for me because anything outside my room or off a bar stool was difficult. I was nursing a broken heart, a taxed liver and was certain that nothing would ever be okay again.
The more sober parts of the group chose the Rongai route because it had the least foot traffic. We all met in Moshi one Friday in June, to start the hike with Gladys Adventure. We hired the gear that we didn’t own, or couldn’t pinch, from more hike competent friends. Most of us only know one or two of the others but it didn’t feel awkward - the banter was swift and the vibes were high. I fell asleep that night that I’d laughed more that evening than I had in two months.
The next morning, I saw the mountain, towering over everything in the distance. I knew I couldn’t do this, I was stupid for signing up. I chided myself through the hiking briefing with panic shooting in my brain, like a cyclist in a velodrome, going round and round. Tommy, one of the UK crew, leaned over with a piece of paper. I looked at all the verses of a song called Nations of the World - won’t it be fun if we learn this by the end of the hike, he said.
I copied the lyrics and put them in my jacket. I thought - if I can’t get up the summit, I will at least learn this song. We piled into a van that took us on the long drive to the Marangu Gate, we went up and up and up. Then we started the walk. It was a gentle first day, a four hour walk up a trail that wound seven kms along farmland and pine plantations. We spent our time spotting black and white colobus monkeys.
We arrived at the Rongai Cave Camp. We were 2800m above sea level now so our guide Casper took our vitals in the dining tent. Tommy took my pulse because I didn’t know how to do that. He felt it start to race and I didn’t know him well enough to say it’s because I hadn’t had physical touch - okay, sex - in several months and an attractive man was holding my wrist. When we turned in for the evening, I snuggled into my sleeping bag next my tent mate Liz and thought, okay day one wasn’t bad but I definitely can’t do day two.
I woke up to my period the next morning. It’s always poorly timed but on the side of a mountain? A new low. I unzipped the tent to sort out this situation, stuck my boots outside and found hot mugs of tea. Liz said, Sashi please be careful, don’t spill that. I said, of course, and was extremely apologetic when I spilled the tea on her.
It was an ominous start to the day we were to gain some serious height. It was the first test of our lungs and we all popped Diamox to get ahead of any altitude sickness. I was so intimidated. I’d hiked before but never without my ex. He was always the one that assured me I could do it when I knew I was certain I couldn’t. He was not here and I could not do this without him.
I thought, I’m already here, I’ll get as far as I can. There was a lot of banter along the next eleven kms and I forgot I couldn’t do what I was doing. I caught up properly with Sarah and Meg about life in Iringa, seven hours away from Dar. I got to know their boyfriends, Sean and Charlie. I spent hours trying to figure out if Charlie’s brother Ants and his friend Amy are friends or friends. It occurred to me that I could just ask them - they were friends.
Whenever there was a lull in conversation, I went through the song. I nailed the first verse just as we arrived at the Kikelwa Cave at 3600m. I’m sure I was a bear in a past life because when it’s cold, I just want to sleep. I forced my eyes awake through dinner then head to my tent thinking, okay day two was fine but I definitely can’t do day three.
In the morning, I was cold, achy and tired. I was on day two of my period which is always the worst one, I can’t do today. Liz and I couldn’t see Tommy when he piped up but we could hear him. He started an imaginary radio broadcast called Kili 5895 FM. Charlie did the sports report and Ants did the weather report. I laughed and wriggled out of the tent to pee. I was awestruck by the sun’s light rising along Kili that morning, covering the large rock face with its warm orange glow. I was alone but it was beautiful and I felt lucky to be there.
We started the six kms which were slow because it held another altitude gain to 4330m. There was no vegetation now and it felt like we were walking on the moon. Tommy and I fell in step and practiced verse two of the song. We rolled into Mawenzi Tarn Camp four hours later. It was stunning because we were in tents just above the clouds and the colours kept changing at sunset.
We played three rounds of charades in the dining tent that evening. We weren’t a random group of people now, we were friends forever bound by walking on the moon and sleeping on the clouds. I curled up in my sleeping bag, too cold and too tired to remind myself that I definitely couldn’t do the next day.
I woke up to 5895FM with a big grin and ready for whatever was ahead. We trudged the six kms to Kibo Hut at 4703m. We merged with the Marangu route and met another group for the first time. It was a a seven year old with his parents and his physio trying to break a summit record. They were very serious and disapproved of our group’s habit of making up occupations when we registered at each checkpoint. “Time Jumper” and “Dream Weaver” were my favourites.
Kibo Hut was freezing and windy. We went straight to sleep that afternoon, woke up to eat dinner then went back to bed. The guides woke us just before midnight and plied us with tea and biscuits. It was time to hit the summit. I remembered that I can’t do this.
I was already in trouble because I was wearing two pairs of gloves but felt sure my hands were made of ice. The altitude was getting to all of us. Liz vomited. Meg vomited. Morale was low till Sean gave us a big pep talk and Tommy ran up the mountain with a portable speaker booming Sarah’s special summit playlist. Wake Me Up Before You Go Go sliced through my psyche and I suddenly started putting one foot in front of the other.
It was an endless walk. Whenever I paused for a break, I wanted to close my eyes. On one pause, I watched the porters doing the Kili shuffle to move up, gently singing in unison in Kiswahili under a bright full moon and a carpet of stars. I never knew you could see both together. I wished to capture the moment but some things can only burn in a memory till the day death comes.
Casper moved me along. Pole pole, he says, slowly slowly. Do the Kili shuffle, we’ll get there, just one foot then the other. I ran through the song, over and over again. We took the rocky path to Hans Meyer Cave then zigzagged to Gilman’s Point on the crater rim. We were at 5681m, there was no shelter against the relentless wind. I realised I was out of Twix and started crying. I couldn’t feel my hands, my ex was not here and I definitely couldn’t do this.
Sarah took my gloves off and warmed up my hands with her breath. I promised to give her my first born child and she said it’s enough if I stop being a baby. I nodded at this fair deal and we trudged on.
There was snow all the way up to the peak. It was so steep it felt like two steps forward and three steps back. I could’ve sworn I was moving backwards on this white soft path created by Satan himself. The only thing that stopped me from turning around was knowing it was as cold down there as it was up here.
We passed climbers on their way down because they started too early and went too fast. They summited in the dark and had to come back down because it was too cold. They would have to rest and try again, the poor bastards.
The sun slowly started to rise and everything started to change. It lit up the snow around us and the glacier in the distance. I couldn’t believe what I was looking at. I started crying again and fogged up my glacier glasses. Tommy stopped short ahead on the path and I realised he was also crying. Behind me, Amy was crying. I don’t know if it was the emotions, the altitude, the exhaustion or the splendour of everything around us. We stopped crying only to take the summit photo at 5895m. It was going to be a cracking broadcast on 5895FM tomorrow.
Ten minutes later, it was time to go back down. Tommy started singing to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and pulled Ants in to waltz with him. Even through his glacier glasses, I could see how worried Casper was. He checked Tommy’s vitals - he was oxygen deprived and at serious risk of a brain injury. He and the assistant guides jumped into action to mobilise the oxygen tank they carried up with them.
I was on auto pilot so I left them behind. In hindsight it was an extremely poor form to think oh wow that sucks then keep walking. But what can I do now? It is my selfish truth. I was busy sliding down the trail on my ass. I did this for a long time, without talking to anyone, trying to nail verse three of the song, going down down down. I only snapped out of it when I cracked my right knee, stopped, stood up, looked around and hoped Tommy wasn’t dead. No one else was as committed to the song.
I got down to Horombo Hut at 3720m and collapsed on the closest surface. When I woke up, the rest of the group appeared from somewhere. Everyone was alive and we did a lot of hugging.
It was only then I realised, I’d done it. All alone, all by myself. This thought was swiftly followed by another. I was not engaged or married but I was not alone. I was with eight brilliant friends, four phenomenal guides and countless incredible porters supporting our sorry asses through a climb they could do in their sleep.
We had our last evening on the mountain and crashed hard after a long day with fourteen hours of walking. The next morning was a piece of cake because everything is easy when you’re walking downhill towards your first shower in five days. We made our way through lush rainforest and arrived back where we started at Marangu Gate.
I felt like an entirely different person and not just because I smelled terrible. We headed back to Moshi and celebrated with hot water, dancing and many cold Kili beers.
It’s R U OK day today and I know many are not okay out there on many days. I hope that even if you feel alone, you know you’re very rarely, truly alone. I hope you reach out to someone and they offer you a healthy circuit breaker from feeling alone. It doesn’t have to be a climb up a mountain. It can be up a tiny hill in a park, a walk around the block or a chat on your couch. If you can’t leave your house, put a pile of laundry on the floor and lay on that instead of the ground. It counts.
I’ll always be so grateful that Sarah moved me off that bar stool. It felt like a turning point, life started to improve from there.
Oh, and that’s how I know the Nations of the World song.
Hugs,
Sashi
Beautiful 💖💖💖
After having just been dumped, this was exactly what I needed to read. Thank you ❤️