Living Life, Internationally

Written on Saturday, March 17th. We have since returned safely to Kayanga from Bukoba, and are ready for the second half of the semester.

There are those moments in life when your body is tired, but there is a great opportunity to go out and live a little. Most of the time, I let my body win out and retire early to read a book. Last night, this option was tempting. I could have lain down after a long day of traveling to Bukoba, swimming in a waterfall, crawling in a cave full of bats, and running around a white sand beach. But, I decided to live a little more.

Yesterday, we were told by our tour guide that there would be a bonfire on the beach starting at 9pm. The students were intrigued, especially after hearing that homemade banana beer might make an appearance. Exhaustion and the luring appeal of a comfortable bed stole many of them to sleep early, but Paul, four students, and I decided to go. Joyce, one of the students, was already planning her escape on the way there wondering if it was safe to walk back on her own.

When we arrived we found a small bonfire of bamboo in the middle of the Lake Victoria beach and its chilly sand. There were maybe eight Tanzanians sitting around it speaking in Swahili/Kihaya/Kinyambo. Kihaya is the local language of the Haya tribe, and is very similar to Kinyambo, the mother-tongue spoken back home in Kayanga. We headed to the bar and decided to split a banana spirit (much more official-looking than what we had in mind) and mix it with Fanta Orange. They had only one glass, so we passed the elixir back and forth between us and the conversation started flowing. Another mzungu joined us, a middle-aged man with long raggedy hair. He started speaking Spanish with our student, Juan (from Puerto Rico). We were happy to see Juan in his element; his old roommate John told us this was Juan’s I’m-as-happy-as-a-kid-in-a-candy store moment.

Meanwhile, Joyce had started a conversation with a Tanzanian man in Swahili. As I sat in the middle of Spanish-speaking Juan and Swahili-speaking Joyce, I stared at the fire and dug my feet in the sand thinking of this cosmopolitan bonfire. Juan’s friend had an Italian passport, but hailed from nowhere. Fluent in Italian, Spanish, French, English, and Portuguese, he knew few Swahili words and said there was no more room left in his brain for another language. He was writing a book about traveling without any money (I remain skeptical and doubt I’ll see this book on the shelves). Joyce was talking with a man who had a third grade education, but of course knew Swahili, Kihaya, Luganda (the predominant language of Uganda), and Kinyambo. I drifted in and out of listening to their conversation. Joyce spent thirty minutes trying to convince him of his intelligence and argued that God was not the reason for the economic disparities between Tanzanians and wazungu. He and the mzungu without origin passed a joint between them. The Swahili word for marijuana (bangi) was one of the few words the mzungu had managed to fit in his brain.

Four languages around one bonfire. I wondered… If I had understood the enormity of the world earlier, would I have taken my required language classes more seriously? I feel woefully inadequate when I’m surrounded by people who know at least three languages. But, you argue, English is the best language! It’s global, spoken by many people, and by most Americans. Sure, we are given very few incentives to learn other languages in the States, given our large country with one language and two big oceans to separate us from much of the rest of the world. This must be one of the reasons few Americans choose to leave our borders. It’s difficult to learn a new language, especially as one becomes older, and can be very uncomfortable to be in a place where people can speak without you understanding…. Where was I going with this?

I just know that last night was cool. Surrounded by many languages, I was reminded of the huge expanse of the world. Recently, I posed a question to my Dad. Paul and I have been discussing (arguing?) about where we should do our extended layover on the way home. Egypt or London? Paul wants to be in London during the Summer Olympics, but I want to see the pyramids. I welcomed my father to this discussion and he said, “Caitlin, go to London. Do something normal for once.” Indeed, while many of my friends have been to Europe, I have not yet spent time there, other than in short layovers on my way to east Africa or the States. But, we’re talking about the pyramids! Ah, sijui, I don’t know. I know that even after Paul and I get jobs in the States, I hope to continue traveling and choosing to go to bonfires rather than retire early to read. I always want to be reminded of the vastness of the world and the diversity of people and languages it affords.

Reality Checks

Our lives in Karagwe are generally peaceful and carefree. Yes, we have to manage relationships with our NGO partners in Swahili and handle the regular sicknesses which pop up among our students, but our stress levels are minimal compared to life in the States. We have actually just said goodbye to Amizade’s site director for Brazil named Nathan, who has been helping us for the past month. The beautiful view from Misha Guest House where we live and the warm and friendly greetings we receive from every Tanzanian around us help us feel at home here. But recently we have experienced some reality checks which put this experience in perspective and remind us that we are a minority living in a country different than our own. In order to cushion the impact of these stories, I want to couch them between some of the overwhelmingly positive experiences we have also been having.

               

To begin, the group of students we have this semester is awesome. We have two Boren scholars who have been studying Swahili intensively for 6 months, including a semester in Stone Town, Zanzibar. To say the least, they are keeping me on my toes with my language skills. These students have fostered a sense of self-determination in the group, and our students have really taken their learning in their own hands. They take initiative to venture outside of our guest house, they are rapidly learning Swahili, and a few have even set up their own language partners outside of their Swahili class. We have had spontaneous dance parties, creative cards made for people with birthdays, and exciting games of catch phrase and charades (the fish bowl game). The positive group dynamic is making my life and job easier and full of laughs.  My experience here has become more fulfilling also because of more time spent with local community members.

I have been more intentional this semester about staying in contact with the language and local people. I finally got over the nervousness I had about joining the church choir. Last semester, Paul and I began attending the Lutheran Church in Kayanga regularly. They have four choirs, and I always loved when the Vijana Kwaya (Choir of Young People) sang and danced. Their songs are always accompanied by a series of choreographed dance moves, with each member giving a little of their own interpretation. I asked to join after the first week back this semester, and they have warmly welcomed me. Now, I attend practice at church three times a week for about an hour and a half each time, and we perform at either the 7am or 10am service every Sunday. I enjoy being part of this group because it forces me to practice listening, speaking, and singing in Swahili and I have made many more friends in the community.  Every practice is opened and closed with a sung/spoken prayer and I am taken back to my LSM (Lutheran Student Movement) days when I was surrounded by people sharing the same faith in college. My participation sometimes leads to frustration as I am not yet fluent and there are many things which are said which I don’t understand. But, this is the nature of learning a new language.

These positive experiences have been punctuated with two situations where I have felt disconcerted about this place. About a week ago, the group was finishing dinner at Misha (a few of us had already walked up to the main building) when we heard a loud and frightened scream. We looked outside and I went outside remembering that earlier some drunken customers had been treating Diana, the bar girl, poorly. I walked a few steps to the kitchen to find Diana sobbing behind the locked door which she had just closed. All of the Misha workers were standing and looking, trying to understand what happened. There was a visibly drunk man outside of the kitchen yelling and holding a receipt, obviously angry. Over the next hour it was discovered that after a disagreement occurred regarding the receipt, this drunken man beat Diana pretty badly, and she ran and locked herself in the kitchen with the angry customer following after her. Our amiable old security guard was getting the story from the customer and asking Diana for the correct change through the door, while I was asking whether someone was going to call the police. The police were called and were on their way when the drunken customer left with his friends. The manager of Misha, Jessica, and Diana walked the short way (ten minutes) to the police station to file a report. Jessica ‘s husband, Bernard, helped mitigate the situation and told us not to worry. A friend of ours who regularly stays at Misha named Steven, sat down with Paul and me to apologize for his friend’s behavior and assure us that he would never return. Come to find out the angry customer is a vehicle inspector, and works with the police. I have heard that he had to pay Diana a penalty of 90,000 shillings (about $57 and almost two month’s salary for Diana). I have also heard that she was writing down false prices for his beers on the receipt but charging him the real price in order to pocket the rest. To understand the whole real story is difficult anywhere, but especially in a place with a different culture and language.

The more recent disturbing situation happened this past Thursday. While I was walking back to Misha from choir practice, a six-year-old girl ran up to me and told me to come. She said something about Gaddafi and said clearly in Swahili, “Ninyi Wamarikani mtakufa hapa,” which means ‘You Americans will die here.’ I was taken aback and left her. After I returned to Misha, Paul returned from a run, and after I told him about the weird comment he said the same thing happened to him. While he was running, a man on the back of a piki-piki (motorcycle), said in English “They will kill you. They will kill you,” while pointing at Paul. These comments struck us as odd as we have never heard anything like this before here. We told our executive director in Pittsburgh, and since then have been telling all of our Tanzanian friends about the comments and asking if they are aware of anti-American sentiments. Our friends and partners have reassured us of our safety and have told us some Tanzanians here might have anti-American feelings, but would not act on them. I put in a report at the police office, and our friends have begun to ask around for further information.

We have turned this situation into a good learning opportunity for ourselves and our students. Our home in Karagwe is very close to Uganda, where Gaddafi built the biggest mosque in East Africa. There were many positive feelings towards Gaddafi as a symbol of Pan-Africanism and of unity among Muslims. Many people point to America as the main culprit in the killing of Gaddafi and this has led to some bitter feelings. This incident has occurred at an opportune time; we will be taking this week in my class to read and discuss, The Eagle’s Shadow: Why America Fascinates and Infuriates the Rest of the World,  written by Mark Hertsgaard. Getting this outside perspective of America makes us better global citizens, and helps us to understand why many people in the world view our country as imperialistic. With that being said, we are staying vigilant and do not feel unsafe in anyway. The spirits among the students are still high and we are still making jokes about Paul’s ever-farting butthole and Egbert’s entertaining way of talking to inanimate objects in Swahili (he apologizes to fruit before cutting and serving it to us).

     

Yesterday, we traveled to Chonyonyo, a village where one of our partner organizations is slowly building a girls’ boarding school. Amizade provides funding for water tanks each year, and we are able to help construct one as a group this semester. Water tanks are a sustainable solution for the limited accessibility of clean water here in Karagwe because there are two separate rainy seasons. Buildings are fitted with iron sheeting and a gutter system and the water is guided into a water tank where it can be drawn from in drier times. We had a really good time working alongside some MAVUNO laborers carrying large stones, breaking up the stones, mixing cement, and helping to build the inside wall of the water tank. The students are anxious to return next week.

           

Karagwe, and particularly Misha Guest House, have provided a peaceful home for us in Tanzania. Paul and I are happy to be here and continue building relationships with our friends. We have begun thinking about where we will go and what we will do after this (our contract ends at the end of July) and will probably start a job search soon. Until then, nitaendelea kujifunza zaidi Swahili, na nitafurahi kuwa na marafiki yetu. I will continue to learn more Swahili and will be happy to be with our friends.

Visiting Old Friends and Family in Kiwangala and Kajjansi

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

When I first took this position of site director in Karagwe for Amizade, I was excited to know that I would be based very close to where I spent my first experience in Africa, Masaka town in Uganda. During the summer of 2008, with the help of the Stein scholarship from Susquehanna University, I participated in an internship with an organization called the Foundation for Sustainable Development. We had one week of orientation in Masaka, and then I spent eight weeks in a small village called Kiwangala living with a host family and working at a small microfinance bank. During that time, I created strong bonds with my family and my co-workers and I have been fortunate enough to visit them after that first summer. 

Paul and I left Kayanga, Tanzania early yesterday morning to travel to Kiwangala. After five modes of transport, we arrived in the early afternoon. We first walked to the bank to see my old co-workers and surprise them. They were so excited to see me back. It’s not every day that a mzungu who once lived here, returns to visit. Visiting with Andy and Jon at the bank proved to be a pretty big ego-boost. Evidently, there was another mzungu who lived with my same host family and worked at the bank, and she did not try to integrate or social with people at all. Andy said they never spent time together outside of work, and one day he asked that she share her biscuits and she said, “No, this is my food.” Lol, I cannot imagine. Hajji (my host father) told me she would sit in her room and eat biscuits alone for dinner. I guess it’s easy to look great next to that example.

We planned to meet Andy at 7pm to enjoy some beer and snacks later that day, and then we continued on to home. Hajji met us in the town center with his new motorcycle and gave each of us rides to his home. Abu, the young boy who was my host brother, ran out of the compound when I arrived and jumped up to give me a hug. Hajjet (my host mother) also came out with open arms and welcomed me into her home. It was good to be back. We sat and talked a while, giving updates of our families and countries. Paul and I gave them the donation we collected from the guests at our wedding and some matching funds from Paul’s church, St. John’s Lutheran Church in Center Square, PA. All in all it was $800, which is a large amount of money for this family. I am hoping it supports Abu as he starts secondary school. 

Since we have arrived in Kiwangala, I have reflected about being back and comparing my first experience in Africa to our job in Kayanga with Amizade. When I completed my internship in Kiwangala, I thought I was done with Africa. I told myself, “I am definitely not one of those people who come and fall in love with the continent.” And yet, I have returned twice since then. I began my relationship with Africa wanting to take the path less traveled and somehow change the world. Since obtaining a Masters in International Development, my view has become much more grounded and I have started to focus more on how I can change attitudes back home than change lives abroad. I like Amizade’s approach of focusing on intercultural exchange, sustainable development, service-learning, and global citizenship. I also really enjoy teaching. We will see where we go from here. After re-visiting my past in Uganda, it makes me wonder where we will be four years.

Kiwangala and Hajji’s house are so much different than Kayanga and Misha Guest house where we are living now. Kayanga is rural, but it is a growing town where modernity is slowly creeping in and people are visiting from many far places. Kiwangala is much more traditional and isolated, where many children run around the town center without shoes and women and children kneel to show respect to elders. Women wearing trousers are not in Kiwangala. Hajji’s house has no running water, and so whenever we use water here we know that is more time Abu (my host brother who is now 14) must spend fetching water at the nearby borehole (well). Hajji has gotten electricity in his house recently, but last night there was a power outage all over town, and we did not have electricity until right before bed. In Kayanga, we have our food catered from a local restaurant and tell Egbert when we would like to eat. Last night, we did not eat dinner until 11:30pm after we had all bathed. As much as home stays are good for an authentic experience, I am enjoying staying in a guest house where we are on our own schedule. But, this is a good reminder that most of the people we meet and greet even in Kayanga do not have electricity or running water. You wouldn’t think so, but it is easy to live here and not know and understand the daily struggles of people if you do not nurture relationships with local people. I will take measures this semester that ensure that I create relationships and struggle to understand the lives, complete with joys and struggles, of the people living around us in Karagwe. 

Saturday, February 4, 2012

                

Once Paul and I arrived in Kampala, we continued our journey on to a small ‘suburb’ called Kajjansi, located between Kampala and Entebbe. Some of the Bbosa family now resides in this more urban setting, along with Daula and Nazifa, whom I lived with in Kiwangala back in 2008. I was excited to visit them and meet their Mom and aunts for the first time. Our visit really highlighted for me the pros and cons to urban vs. rural living in East Africa. Daula and Nazifah moved to Kajjansi to live with their mother instead of their grandparents in order to attend a good secondary school, and go to university in the city. Their mother and aunt own a medium-sized shop where they primarily sell Western-style clothes. The family lives on a busy street with congested traffic sputtering exhaust fumes continually outside their door. They live behind the shop in cramped quarters where they cook dinner in the same place where they are to sleep, making the room very hot. What a change. We traveled directly to Kajjansi from Kiwangala, and the differences were startling. Kiwangala may have very sporadic electricity and no running water, but there is room to breathe and exhaust doesn’t fill the air. It was easy to see the trade-offs necessary for people who travel to The City for better opportunities. Now that we are in Kampala, Uganda’s capitol, while we wait to pick up our students on the 7^th, Paul and I are anxious to get back to our more easy-going rural home of Karagwe.

Our First Week Back in East Africa

After arriving in Entebbe on Friday the 20^th Caitlin and I spent 2 nights in Kampala Uganda before we made our way south to the Karagwe district of Tanzania.  Our journey to Karagwe began on Sunday morning at 6:15 a.m. which is when we awoke and packed our bags.  We had called for a taxi the night before to arrive by 7 a.m. so we could beat any traffic and to secure a ticket for an earlier bus.  Once we arrived at the bus park at 7:15 we got on a bus and felt good that all of our luggage could be stored securely under the bus in the cargo chambers and above us in the overhead compartments.  

Not having had breakfast yet, I went to the closest gas station convenient store to fetch the most important meal of the day.  Yogurt, cookies, marble pound cake, and juice boxes would suffice.  Caitlin and I began to wait patiently for the bus to fill which could take a long time but we were content with the fact that we got good seats.  Little did we know that our wait would be 3.5 hours because our bus had an issue with one of the rear tires.   In hindsight we might have gotten on a completely different bus, however no one else on our bus was doing so and our luggage was already stowed so we waited until a new bus arrived. Once it did everyone of course got up at the same time and was rushing to the new bus for a good seat and we just stayed put and said oh well  Once again we are reminded to roll with the punches in regards to African travel; Hamna Shida, (No Worries)

Our week in Karagwe was spent meeting with community partners and visiting friends in Kayanga town.  We have also completed our final preparations for when the students arrive in 10 days.  We are very pleased with our productivity and we are looking forward to picking up the students in Entebbe Uganda.  We are very happy to be back and we have been welcomed back by our friends and community partners. 

One of the more gratifying moments in my life occurred when we were walking into town for dinner on Sunday night.  Running toward us in his running gear was our 16 year old friend Fahimu.  Last fall Fahimu started running with me after showing an interest.  Since we left Karagwe in November he has been running 4-5 times a week and has really enjoyed it.  He has already set some goals and I have been working with him on a month to month schedule in order to meet those goals.  We meet at 5:30 most evenings and he follows me wherever I go.  Currently he attends Kayanga Secondary School where I will resume English instruction in February.

Our next order of business is to travel to Masaka on Monday to visit Caitlin’s family with whom she spent the summer of 2008.  Caitlin has been anxiously awaiting this reunion since she hasn’t seen her family in over 18 months.  On the other hand I am concerned with the running conditions in and around Masaka since this will be my first visit to the area, and of course I am also excited to meet the family!  Masaka is located approximately 70 kilometers from the Tanzania and Uganda border.  After our visit to Masaka we will go to Entebbe to pick up our colleague Nathan Darity.  Nathan will be joining Caitlin and I for the first 4-5 weeks of the semester.  After picking up Nathan we will have several days to venture around Kampala before the arrival of the students on the 7^th of February.

As we prepared for this semester we reflected a bit on last semester in order to learn from our mistakes and get the most out of the entire experience.  Being back on the ground has reminded us of some of the complexities of living and working in Karagwe.    When we left Karagwe in late November we didn’t really contemplate the possibility of much change within our little bubble in East Africa.  However, some things have and are changing.  Change is something that occurs and we have to learn to work with the changes. 

One of the changes that have occurred here is our friend Deodatus (the cook at the guest house) no longer is employed there.  Fortunately he came to visit us once he got word that we returned.  He apparently has gone home to farm and has no intention to return to the guest house for work.  Caitlin and I were disappointed to get this news but we understand that he has to do what’s best for him.  Kayanga town is a place where people live and die and sometimes we forget that when we are temporary.  

~Paul

London/Heathrow Airport- In Transit to Uganda

London- 8:17am- Jan 20, 2012

As I sit somewhere in the center of the London-Heathrow airport, I have mixed feelings about what I see in the context of where I’m going. The floors are squeaky clean, the top-line stores are flashy with pictures of alluring models making you want whatever they’re selling, people from all over the world are stuck in this limbo… some rushing bright eyed to their first flight, many around me are waiting for their second or third flight, tired and ready to leave this place where a British woman’s voice makes announcements every 3-5 minutes (at least it’s with a British accent). 

Paul’s trying to kill pigs in Angry Birds and is not as successful as hoped… “Those lucky bastards.”

Social class differences are glaring during international travel. Our British Airways flight (which was not very good, I want KLM (Delta) next time) had three classes of seats. The first class was complete with chairs that lay down to a horizontal position, with thicker blankets, and remote-controlled individual screens. The second class had fewer chairs squeezed across the width of the plane, and lots of leg room. And then our third class, where seats are small, leg room is minimal, but each person still has an individual screen (albeit not working most of the flight). While I walk through the Philadelphia and London airports, I see luxurious, exclusive ‘galleries’ where wealthy frequent travelers have big comfy chairs and assumedly escape from the British woman’s voice making announcements.

I am walking around with a very heavy book bag which instantly irritates me (maybe it’s the two hours of sleep I’ve gotten when my body thinks it’s 3:30am), when almost everyone else is easily walking with a roller carry-on gliding behind them. I think, why didn’t I use my roller carry-on? Oh, that’s right, because a book bag makes more sense for where we are going… rural Tanzania. It will be a long time until I am surrounded by this kind of atmosphere again: the clean, sanitized nature of everything, the posh advertisements, the wealth.

Why does this bother me? This environment is much like where I grew up in the United States. It bothers me because I am surrounded by things telling me I could be richer, and I should want to be. If I had more money, I could buy that purse the beautiful model is trying to sell. THIS IS RIDICULOUS. I am going to a place where people can only dream of the luxuries I am afforded. I fly on international flights with televisions for everyone. I am able to fly home for six weeks and do close to nothing while I visit family and friends. I have a loving husband who has been awesome enough to share a position with me in rural Tanzania for a year. I’m typing this blog post on a relatively new netbook, while Paul plays Angry Birds on my newly acquired iPod Touch.

Will I always be this Debbie-Downer now that I realize how wealthy I am along with all of my friends and family? It’s better to have this understanding of relative wealth and poverty than to go through life never seeing different parts of the world where people live drastically different lives. The next seven months will be spent serving out the rest of our one year contract with Amizade. Most of that time will be in Karagwe, Tanzania. This time will be challenging, but it’s the difficult periods of life that lead to the most personal growth. And, it must be good for the soul to get away from this life of wealth, and live more simply for a while.  I look forward to this next semester, and hope to integrate into our local community and learn some things that will help me keep the simple life perspective even after my time ends in Karagwe. Here we go!

Update: We landed in Uganda around 10pm last night and arrived at Backpackers Hostel at midnight. We hope to continue our journey to Karagwe today, if not tomorrow.

Our Safari across Tanzania

December 8, 2011

I’m sitting in our comfortable bed in the Sleep Inn Hotel in Dar es Salaam (Tanzania’s capitol), with an air conditioning unit providing a cool environment while I watch Kung Fu Panda on a flat screen television. We have come a long way from Karagwe, and have enjoyed traveling along the tourist track followed by thousands of visitors each year in Tanzania. Walking along a path well-traveled is a great breath of fresh air after living in rural Tanzania for a while. The past ten days have been full of is-this-a-dream? encounters.

We started our journey by leaving Misha Guest house at 5:45am on Monday, November 28^th to catch our bus in Kayanga. Carly, Sarah, and Isabel had said their good-byes to all of their friends. The previous night they gave Deo a donation so he could buy a mattress (he was sleeping on the floor the whole time we were at Misha) and a letter. He cried when they gave it to them, and brought the letter and money to show Paul and me. I translated the letter in Swahili for him, and he started crying again. Paul comforted him with a hug and he only cried more. Deo and Egbert were very sad to see us go. When I tried to comfort our friends by reminding them that Paul and I would return in January, it wasn’t enough because Isabel, Sarah, and Carly would not. The morning we were to leave, we got a call from Egbert at 5:15am and looked out of our window to see Deo and Egbert standing there expectantly. They said farewell one last time and we taxied to Kayanga town with our friend Ruta.

The bus arrived packed with people, and after putting our luggage in the bottom of the bus, we boarded to find no empty seats. Some of us sat, and some of us stood for the two hour journey along unpaved roads to Bukoba. We arrived in the closest city to our TZ home around 9am and had the whole day to explore and wait to board our overnight ferry across Lake Victoria to Mwanza which departed at 9pm. We walked around a bit, visited a few places, and then walked to the ferry port from Spice Beach hotel at 7:45. The ferry was much better than its first impression. I had bought first class tickets, and we were fortunate to stay in little cabins with a set of bunk beds, a closet, a sink, and a table. We watched as hundreds of green banana bunches were hauled and packed onto the ferry (Paul joked that we were on Donkey Kong’s boat), and retired to our cabin before disembarking. Paul and I were wiped out, and fell asleep before 10. During the night we heard a man yelling, ‘Parachichi! Parachichi!’ (Avocado). We learned the next morning that we had stopped somewhere and vendors had boarded to sell their wares.

We left the ferry at 7am, and met our safari driver named David at the port. He picked us up in a sweet dark green land cruiser with a pop up hood for excellent safari viewing. He took us to a nice semi-outdoor restaurant and we ate a filling breakfast. We would have a day full of safari through the Serengeti Park, arguably the best National Wildlife Park in Africa. We began driving and were excited to see zebras and gazelles in the distance.

Throughout our two days in Serengeti we spotted elephants, giraffes, leopards, lions, wildebeests, buffalo, jackals, marabou storks, zebras, antelope, impalas, vultures, a crocodile, fish eagles, hippos, dic dics, warthogs, baboons, gazelles, hyenas, giant tortoises, porcupines, big lizards, ostriches, fervor monkeys, an arax, and lots of big termite mounds (Paul was sure to list them all).

A major highlight from our safari… We came to a spot where there were many other safari vehicles, and spotted two leopards sleeping in a tree. David looked at the time (about 4:45pm) and said we should wait because the leopards would soon leave the tree to hunt for food. There was a large herd of elephants which moseyed their way past the tree, not knowing about the predators above. There were two baby elephants, no more than a few days old, with the herd. The leopards woke up and slowly made their way down the tree, stalking the baby elephants. We were freaking out, wanting and not wanting the leopards to pounce at the same time. We watched a nerve-wrecking scene of the leopards stalking the baby elephants, punctured by different adult elephants charging the leopards, threatening them to stay away. After about an hour and a half we left disappointed by the seeming lack of courage of the leopards.

We saw many groups of elephants, giraffes, and zebras close up and almost couldn’t believe the animals were real. I thought about God’s sense of humor.

That night, we camped in the Serengeti Park at a camp site set up with maybe two dozen tents, a pavilion for cooking, a pavilion for eating, and small covered buildings for toilets and showers. The girls stuffed themselves into a two-person tent and had a good time. We all loved the food. We had popcorn and cookies to start, then a delicious soup, spaghetti with ground beef, and a delicious balsamic salad with avocado, tomato, and onion. We were all happy to have something different than our typical meal in Karagwe. We slept well and woke up the next morning at 6am to get a head start on seeing the animals. We watched the sun rise over the horizon and a small group of elephants picking grass with their trunks to eat. After a good breakfast back at the campsite, we packed all of our stuff back on the truck and set out to leave the park by our permit’s noon deadline. David drove us off the main road down small paths to show us the thousands of wildebeest grazing in the middle of their migration to the southern parts of the park. We spotted a half dozen female lionesses chilling on some boulders before we left the park.

Once at the gate, we stopped to eat our packed lunches and take pictures. We had a 6-7 hour journey before us until we arrive in Arusha. We stopped at a good viewpoint of the Ngorogoro Crater and stopped at one point to change a blown tire. Once we were on the east side of the Serengeti, we saw people of the Masai tribe sporadically on our journey. They are a unique group of people who are holding tightly to their traditions, and have continued wearing their customary plaid blankets, shoes made from tires, and walking with a stick. The Masai is a pastoralist tribe, and wealth is measured by the amount of cows a man owns. We passed a group of young boys with their faces painted with white patterns and were told by David that this is a time when the tribe circumcises all of its boys in an elaborate ritual of manhood which happens every seven years. It was interesting to see glances of such a different life.

We stayed for two nights in Arusha, the place where Nyerere signed the Arusha Declaration to guide Tanzania in socialism during its first two decades of independence, and the location of the International Criminal Court to prosecute perpetrators of the Rwandan Genocide. We really enjoyed walking around Arusha and visiting the Masai market to buy things for our friends and family. Paul and I bought a beautiful oil painting of elephants in front of Mount Kilimanjaro.

From Arusha, we flew in a tiny airplane to the island of Zanzibar. We spent our first few days in Bwejuu, on the east coast of the island, at a unique, rustic guest house called Mustafa’s Place. The environment was very chill and land back, with the ocean only a minute walk away. We all decided to go snorkeling so after breakfast one morning we met a driver who drove us to another beach. There, we met two men on dhows, or simple dugout sail boats. We went out in the middle of the ocean and let down our anchor where there were brown and tan coral alive with a variety of fish. We got right in and spent an hour and a half snorkeling and watching the life under the sea. My favorite spotting was a couple of stripped angel fish about a foot in diameter. I finished the experience by climbing onto the boat and diving off a few times. It really felt like a dream. Ha, what wasn’t like a dream afterwards was the sunburn pain I experienced because I didn’t wear a shirt while snorkeling… good lesson for next time.  

The night before we left Bwejuu, Sarah, Carly, Paul, and I went out to a party at a place called Teddy’s which was having their two year anniversary. The scene was very cool-- wazungu from all over the world dancing and having a good time. We smoked strawberry hookah and I drank Paul’s long island ice tea, and Paul and I headed back early happy and tired. Sarah, Carly, and Isabel decided to spend some of their own money and went swimming with dolphins the next morning. They only spent about $30 per person and saw about a dozen dolphins while snorkeling. We left that day after lunch to head to Stonetown, which is on the west coast of the island. On the way, we stopped at a spice farm and had a tour of the various spices which are grown in Zanzibar. We saw, smelled, and tasted cinnamon, vanilla, black pepper, saffron, cloves, and many others. At the end we tasted some local fruits… we all loved the grapefruit which was much less bitter than the grapefruit in the US. A man showed us how to climb a coconut tree, and Paul and Isabel attempted to climb also. It looked so easy when he did it.

We stayed at Malindi Guest House in Stonetown, which was a very cool open-air accommodation. Stonetown seemed a bit sketchy (we were told not to go left from our front door), and there were cats everywhere. We ate dinner at Mercury Restaurant which is situated right on the ocean with a candlelit, new age music atmosphere. The food was delicious. Paul was excited to discover that the restaurant is named after Freddie Mercury, and bought a shirt for a friend. Afterwards, we went to an outside market type of barbeque where vendors and chefs were selling the catch of the day grilled and ready to be eaten off a skewer. I paid a buck twenty for a dessert of chapatti fried with nutella, mango slices, and chocolate syrup. I guess I would compare it to funnel cake at a carnival and a caramel apple, but with that tropical-chocolaty-melt in your mouth deliciousness.

The next day after buying our ferry tickets, we explored a bit, and bought some coffee from the island. Paul, Isabel, and I said farewell to Carly and Sarah at the ferry port. They will travel around the region for two weeks before returning home right before Christmas. I met with my friend, Stacey, who studied with me last summer during the Pitt in Tanzania- Swahili program. The ferry was fine to Dar. I popped out a deck of cards, and began playing the locally popular game called ‘last card’ with a couple of men and a boy.

December 9, 2011

We stayed at Sleep Inn Hotel in Dar and bought the last few things we needed for our friends and family. Paul and I had our last meal in Tanzania with an Indian man who is based in Mwanza. We all got the seafood platter and we enjoyed the conversation topics we had become accustomed to with our new friend- how every religion has more similarities than differences, his spiritual beliefs inspired by Hinduism, human nature in general, homosexuality, etc. This guy was deep and open and honest and we enjoyed his company. We met up with two of my friends, Nina and Cory, who were also with me during the Pitt in Tanzania-Swahili program last year. We went to a cool bar and enjoyed good conversation over a drink. It’s cool to have friends from the States also living in Tanzania. Paul and Cory are planning to be hiking buddies for a trek up Kilimanjaro next year.

Paul and I are home in Blue Bell, PA now. We are happy to see our families and our country. We are also happy that we will return to Karagwe again and have another group of students. We have lots of ideas to make next semester even better than this one, and are happy we will see our friends when we return. Cold and snowy Pennsylvania and Kansas City, home-cooked meals, ice cream, loved ones… here we come!