rsc

Monday night, our first at the Serena Lodge on the lip of the Ngorongoro crater, a bunch of us are on the balcony outside the bar looking at a brilliantly starry sky, trying to determine what compass direction we're facing. Ken, the tour organizer, says that since we're on the south rim of the crater, we must be facing north. I'm still getting my brain adjusted to both unfamiliar constellations and familiar ones in unfamiliar orientations, but, what with the Southern Cross to the far right and Scorpio more or less in front of us I'm pretty sure we're facing just about due east. Mary is inclined to agree with me, but is less certain. Ken is insistent, however, and entirely unmoved by my assertion that the stars don't lie. Mary suggests that we'll probably know in the morning.

Tuesday morning at 6:30, I get up and look out from our balcony (all the rooms, private and public, face in the same direction, namely out over the crater). The sky is brilliantly clear except for a few coppery wisps of cloud, and the glow illuminating them is straight in the direction I'm looking, where, indeed, the sun appears about 15 minutes later.

I go up to the dining room, where Ken is having breakfast. I go up to him and remark that I didn't know he was taking us to the South Pole. "The South Pole?" he says blankly. I reply that that's the only place I know of where the sun rises in the north. He advises me, with a slight growl, to go get my breakfast.