A little help from your friends…. Kilimanjaro Lessons on gratitude

Its over a month now since my return from Kilimanjaro

The post-covid fatigue has (mostly) abated.

The weight is back on (not eating while doing extreme sport will do that to you)

But the changed attitude remains.

It’s important that you know that I am an introvert.  I realise to those of you that have encountered me in a social or professional situation this may seem ridiculous.  I am one of the loudest people you will meet in a confined space.  A relentless bundle of positivity.  I will, always, as suggested by Monty Python, look on the bright side of life.

And yet.  In order to be this person and give of my best self to the world I need to hunker down.  I retreat into my own company for fun.  My favourite way to spend my time is alone, with a cuppa, a cat a cushion and a good book.

And so the Kilimanjaro trek, why is this relevant?

Because large communal treks are not designed for introverts!

There is no ‘time alone’.

Relentlessly plodding along paths with 40 others requires polite conversation, at the very least, and soul-searching self discovery more often.

A trip to the toilet-in-a-tent involves an obstacle course around tents, boots, poles and people.  And someone waiting outside desperate to follow .there is literally no me-space

Tents are shared, so time alone is scarce.

But on Kilimanjaro this is good. (even if for us introverts its mighty uncomfortable)

Because humans are a social species.

Talking to others about what drives them up the worlds highest freestanding mountain takes ones mind off the pain of the body- or the fact that we have been going UP for 6 hours……

So many stories of human suffering and pain.  Charities supported.  Loved ones honoured.

Without this human interaction the long and winding road would have been a great deal more arduous.

Having a fellow introverted tent buddy gave me a sounding board at the end of the day.  A huge tumbledown wall of bags to separate the tent into zones helped us to have our own space as well as companionship.  A giggle from the other side of the tent as I caterpillared up the slope in my sleeping bag again in the pitch dark.

A fellow trekker who also suffered from vertigo and panic attacks on the long stretches of rock climbing literally felt my pain. When each step is a deliberate act. When every nerve in the body screams stop, but you MUST continue to climb upwards. A hug, a tear, a shared piece of dried fruit.  This is truly the human experience at its best.  My heart is warm and I smile and cry inside every time I think of these moments.

So many beautiful interactions.

Positive words over porridge and our strange brew of instant coffee and chocolate to get us going as the sun rose.

Sharing the last of the warm water between 2 bowls for the ‘washy washy’ after 8 hours of hiking.

Offering loo roll, chocolate, sun cream or plasters to a fellow trekker in need.

Positive words to combat the pain or a reminder that ‘it’s just 6 small hills’ – (we’ll never let him forget that one!)

And then there are the porters and guides.

Without whom no trek of this enormous mountain is possible.

These incredible individuals carry huge weights up the very same paths we trekkers plod.  Often wearing trainers of the wrong size.  The porters lug food, cooking supplies, tents, water, chairs, toilets, everything that is needed for camp, along with their own belongings for a week on the mountain.  They wear broads smiles as well as their clothes that may have been donated by past trekkers.

At 4.30am one morning I got up to use the toilet and watched a group of porters set off up the mountain in darkness to set up our next camp.  The stars were clear and the glacier at the top of the mountain was white as they shouldered their packs and plodded upward.  It was well below freezing.  Getting going at 7am as we followed in their footsteps didn’t seem as much of a chore afterward.

I reserve by deepest gratitude for the mountain guides.  These gentle, smiling, sure-footed men kindly did what it took to get us up the mountain.

There was the rousing cries of  ‘maximum….. (which we replied with) respect’  or ‘more water…. More fire’  to remind us to keep eating and drinking.. These shouts still echo through my dreams.

The guides would help by the carrying of packs for those who were struggling.  This wasn’t seen as an admission of failure, rather than a way of helping those who needed it reach their potential, and make it to their goal.

The path up Kilimanjaro is not a smooth one. There is a lots of scrambling up , down and along rocks. The ‘steps’ can be over 2 feet high and slippery…… and go on for hour after hour.

On an all-day trek looking at each step before you make it, makes the mind gets tired.  Trips and slips become more common as dehydration and low blood sugar bites.  The guides were always there.  Helping us over the difficult parts of the route.

We would be scrambling along like upright baby turtles.  One step at a time.  Then from behind a group of sure-footed guides would come tearing past us, through the bush or along the rock-wall,  and we knew (with a sigh) that a difficult part of the path lay ahead, and the guides were positioning themselves to see us up (or down ) it safely.

A chain of these strong, smiling (often small) men would form to stop our tired legs from careering over the sheer drop due to physical and mental exhaustion.  They would happily hand us along their chain making sure we knew where to place our hands and feet for safety. Always with a kind word or little joke.

On summit night the guides made sure I kept putting one foot in front of the other, when my body gave up on me, and even took my picture before getting me down the mountain to safety.  Pole Pole (slowly slowly)

The greatest lesson I have learned from my adventure is this:

Kilimanjaro has taught me the power of community.

How the sum of the group is greater than its parts.

When a bunch of like-minded individuals get together, they can accomplish ridiculous things.

Even the highest mountain can be climbed with a little help from your friends, guides along the way, and slowly, slowly.

I just can’t believe I had to go up Kilimanjaro for that to finally sink in!