I’m glad I got a chance to Skype with my parents early on Sunday morning. Apparently Delta/KLM hadn’t updated the flight status of my previous flight from Dar Amsterdam, and it appeared that my flight had never arrived. Even the people working at Delta couldn’t tell my parents where the plane was.
Anyway, after a brief chat with them I got on the plane and found my seat. I immediately started feeling a little ill and tried to fall asleep and let it pass. There were no air vents to adjust, and no signs of sleepiness either, so I tried to just relax and let it pass. Unfortunately I waited too long, because by the time I decided I had to find the bathroom we were already taxiing. I had to ask the person sitting in the aisle to get up for me, but she told me we were about to take off so I shouldn’t get up. I hesitated and she refused to budge, so I rebuckled my seatbelt and tried desperately to mentally power my way through.
After about 1.5 more minutes I decided there was no turning back. I didn’t take no for an answer this time, and made it all the way to the bathroom door when the stewardess at the end of the aisle directly in front of me got on the over head speaker and said, “Ma’am, return to your seat immediately.” I had thought ahead enough to have a motion sickness bag in my hand and figured that waving at her should be enough of a clear sign. Of course, it wasn’t. She said “No. Return to your seat. No. Go sit down. Now.” With her stupid Dutch KLM accent and a very don’t mess with me tone, it was clear that I had better return to my seat.
I fortunately had just enough time to sit back down before losing my kibbles. I was hoping to make it until the plane started taking off so the loud jet noises could cover for me, but of course the plane was called back at the last minute because the fog lights weren’t working properly. We had to sit there for 20 more minutes before getting the green light and taxiing back to the runway.
No one came to see what was wrong for me or anything. My seatmate just sat there the whole time reading her newspaper and ignoring me. I was too exhausted to move, but finally mustered up some strength to find a trash can after about half an hour. On my way, I found a flight attendant. I told him I was pretty sure I had food poisoning or something, so he gave me a bottle of coke and some Imodium. Another flight attendant was nice enough to ask my seatmate to move and give me some room to lie down. It was a tight squeeze, but I was appreciative of the breathing room.
Unfortunately for me, I spent the remaining 7.5 hours of the trip with a fever and never-ending nauseousness running back and forth to the bathroom, bag in hand. I was rather struck by how unfriendly everyone was. The only person who would even talk to me was a Registered Nurse from Nigeria.
I finally made my way to the back of the plane to ask the flight attendants about getting some water. Unfortunately I came across the lady on the loud speaker and had to apologize to her about our little encounter. We actually got into an interesting conversation. It included everything from her advice on food poisoning, to warnings that I could be quarantined upon my arrival, to her extreme delight that I knew that her home country, Suriname, is not in Africa. Apparently I’m the first American to ever know where her home country is – thank you Georgetown SFS.
Anyway, it was a pretty rough flight for me up until the very end. When I finally got off the plane, I pulled myself together and headed as fast as I could to Customs. I managed to get past with little trouble, pick up my bags, and phone my parents (apparently my phone can hold a charge after 3 months. They didn’t expect me to get out so quickly, and were apparently sitting in the Starbucks letting a man from Jerusalem use their computer.
I was thoroughly exhausted from the flight and was so relieved to see them and collapse into a big group hug. As for this random guy from Jerusalem, my parents have apparently picked up an appreciation for hospitality after giving me up to the Tanzanian community for the past three months, and were already getting started paying it forward. It turns out this guy was an economist who spoke 5 languages (Hebrew, Arabic, English, French, and Russian….all fluently except for Russian) and was on his way to a conference to meet Obama the next day. His hotel was in New Carrollton, so after helping him find out its exact location on the computer, they offered to give him a ride.
On the way back I asked my parents to stop by Georgetown to say hi to a good friend and grab some frozen yogurt at my favorite place in Du Pont. I was a little overconfident with my newfound second wind, but it didn’t prove to be too much of a problem. We gave our new friend a quick tour of things on our drive back through the city and had a great time laughing and learning more about each other.
When we finally got to his hotel I went inside to find a bathroom before hitting the road again. After about 5 more minutes of being on the road, my dad asked for his phone – he is a little obsessive about checking his phone messages. It was nowhere to be found, and as we tried to work backwards in time to figure out who had it, we realized I had been talking to my sister on the phone when I walked into the hotel bathroom. I called 411 within 10 minutes of leaving the hotel, and when I finally got a hold of a member of the hotel staff they told me they couldn’t find the phone. Way to go, Chelsea.
When we got home, I waited up for a bit for my sister to get home and then passed out in my bed for the next 10 hours. I woke up the next morning feeling infinitely better and oh so happy to be home. I called Verizon, found out that someone had been using the internet on my dad’s phone earlier in the morning, and had therefore definitely been taken from the hotel bathroom. Welcome to America. We have old phones lying around the house to transfer numbers too in exactly these circumstances so it ended up being no big deal.
I’m back to normal times and forms of communication now and will be working on some sort of calendar for my last 5 weeks at home. Can’t wait to reconnect with everyone in between walking the dogs and family bonding time!
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Random Tidbits
There are a bunch of random memories from my trip that I’ve been meaning to write about while I was in TZ, so I guess I’ll just compile them all here before I forget. I hope to continue with some bigger posts on education, tribes, the differences between TZ and the US, and my personal reflections on the trip at a later time, but I’ll keep these clips short for now (or short-ish, to be more precise).
Soda Can Story
While I was walking home after Skyping with Mr. Shekdar’s 4th grade class for a second time a few weeks ago, I stopped at a small local store (duka) for a drink. Everyone here drinks out of 400mL bottles which cost 400 TZ shillings (if a Coke product) wholesale or 500 shillings at the store. You can also buy small 300 mL bottles for 400 shillings at the store, but that’s mostly just for kids.
Anyway, I was really thirsty and opened the cooler to help myself to a drink. If you drink a soda you usually have to wait and give the bottle back to the store for them to recycle. I didn’t feel like waiting, so I just grabbed a can from the fridge. The cans are just 330 mL, so I gave the woman and the store a 500 shilling bill and waited for the change.
Instead of waiting for the change, she waited for me to give her more money. I was very confused by this and asked her how much more she wanted. It turned out to be 1,000 shillings! That’s twice as much money as a bottle and not as much liquid! Of course, this was the only day I decided to open the drink before drinking it. Unfortunately I had no more money on me and had to ask if I could pay her later. Luckily I have made sure to greet her from the road almost every day in Swahili, so my friend had no problem waiting for the money. I, however, felt like quite the idiot.
Deborah Washing Clothes
I had gotten a little bit behind in the washing-of -the-underpants department in my last few weeks here and had to scramble at the end to get everything clean. I had a whole rotation system between washing clothes and packing and was having a good old time getting all of my things together when my little friend Deborah (the house girl’s daughter) game to help me pack.
Deborah, while extremely cute, is usually quite a pain because she is almost always the most interested in the item I want her to touch the least. However, on that day, for some reason, she decided to make herself useful. I didn’t know what she was doing, but she went into my bathroom, presumably to do some perusing of the shampoo bottles and soaps. I let her be for a few minutes as I continued to pack. After a little while I began to get suspicious and went into the bathroom to see what she was up to. Low and behold she was leaning over the big bucket, barely reaching, but diligently washing my underpants in the soapy water! At just one and a half years of age I was very impressed by her hard work. I of course helped her find something else to do, but not before snapping a few pics.
Rooster on the Safari
On my very mini safari to Ngorongoro Crater I had the chance to see a lot of very cool birds, as well as the other safari creatures you’d expect to see (elephants, hyenas, a lion, warthogs, wildebeest, zebras etc.) While observing these beautiful creatures out of the roof of our Land Cruiser, I became very confused when I heard the unmistakable crow of a rooster. I assumed I must be imagining things, but after another 2 minutes I heard it again. I looked everywhere for the bird, even though I couldn’t imagine how a rooster would have arrived at the bottom of the crater with all the safari animals. The third crow just a few seconds later was interrupted mid call, and I when I turned around to see what it was my host sister was standing there on toying with her phone. Apparently that’s the sound of her incoming text messages.
Maasai at the Beach
On the second to last day of my trip to Zanzibar I was dropped off by my guide at a random beach hotel and told that he would come pick me up several hours later. I had to pay an entrance fee of 2,000 shillings, order lunch for myself, and find entertainment. I was initially rather annoyed with this since all of these things were supposed to be covered in the cost of my trip, and leaving me to play by myself was never in the itinerary.
However, after a few minutes of getting settled, I relaxed and decided to just go with it. From the hotel I could see the beach, except it appeared to be about a kilometer off in the distance. I challenged myself to make it all the way out there even though the waiter at the restaurant told me that the tide would come in just a few short hours. Off I went, holding a kanga over my head to protect my unfortunately white skin from the blaring afternoon sun. After a few minutes I came across a group of three boys catching small fish by smacking sticks against the sand in small pools of water. As I continued on, the water got to be about ankle deep, but the real ocean border was still far off in the distance. I came across a ton of cool creatures including fat, sand-colored starfish, skinny starfish with bright red lines across them in cool vein-like patterns, conch, and other random ocean life.
After awhile I began to feel that I would never reach the ocean. I decided to quit and just stick to observing the creatures on the sea floor. When I got back, I took a nice long nap on the beach, and woke up to find that the ocean had come all the way up to the hotel beach, fully covering all the animals I had seen before. I went for a nice swim in the ocean, and then went to go find myself a soda.
In the process of getting a drink I made friends with several members of the hotel staff. The majority of these guys were Maasai (a tribe I have yet to write about). I was really excited to actually get a chance to talk to them and ask them a few questions.
One of my questions about their tribe was the practice of polygamy. I was especially interested in whether they are allowed to marry members of other tribes, which I learned is an absolute no-no. The guys were so quick to tell me that Maasai don’t marry people of other tribes that I thought I must have misunderstood the question when one of them asked me if I would be his girlfriend. I immediately challenged his request given their previous statement, but as it turns out, Maasai are allowed actually allowed to marry Maasai or mzungu – just not other Swahilis. Unfortunately I denied the request, although if his courtship proposal had turned into a marriage he would have had to go kill a lion for my father and give him a bunch of cattle. Pretty cool deal if you ask me.
Soda Can Story
While I was walking home after Skyping with Mr. Shekdar’s 4th grade class for a second time a few weeks ago, I stopped at a small local store (duka) for a drink. Everyone here drinks out of 400mL bottles which cost 400 TZ shillings (if a Coke product) wholesale or 500 shillings at the store. You can also buy small 300 mL bottles for 400 shillings at the store, but that’s mostly just for kids.
Anyway, I was really thirsty and opened the cooler to help myself to a drink. If you drink a soda you usually have to wait and give the bottle back to the store for them to recycle. I didn’t feel like waiting, so I just grabbed a can from the fridge. The cans are just 330 mL, so I gave the woman and the store a 500 shilling bill and waited for the change.
Instead of waiting for the change, she waited for me to give her more money. I was very confused by this and asked her how much more she wanted. It turned out to be 1,000 shillings! That’s twice as much money as a bottle and not as much liquid! Of course, this was the only day I decided to open the drink before drinking it. Unfortunately I had no more money on me and had to ask if I could pay her later. Luckily I have made sure to greet her from the road almost every day in Swahili, so my friend had no problem waiting for the money. I, however, felt like quite the idiot.
Deborah Washing Clothes
I had gotten a little bit behind in the washing-of -the-underpants department in my last few weeks here and had to scramble at the end to get everything clean. I had a whole rotation system between washing clothes and packing and was having a good old time getting all of my things together when my little friend Deborah (the house girl’s daughter) game to help me pack.
Deborah, while extremely cute, is usually quite a pain because she is almost always the most interested in the item I want her to touch the least. However, on that day, for some reason, she decided to make herself useful. I didn’t know what she was doing, but she went into my bathroom, presumably to do some perusing of the shampoo bottles and soaps. I let her be for a few minutes as I continued to pack. After a little while I began to get suspicious and went into the bathroom to see what she was up to. Low and behold she was leaning over the big bucket, barely reaching, but diligently washing my underpants in the soapy water! At just one and a half years of age I was very impressed by her hard work. I of course helped her find something else to do, but not before snapping a few pics.
Rooster on the Safari
On my very mini safari to Ngorongoro Crater I had the chance to see a lot of very cool birds, as well as the other safari creatures you’d expect to see (elephants, hyenas, a lion, warthogs, wildebeest, zebras etc.) While observing these beautiful creatures out of the roof of our Land Cruiser, I became very confused when I heard the unmistakable crow of a rooster. I assumed I must be imagining things, but after another 2 minutes I heard it again. I looked everywhere for the bird, even though I couldn’t imagine how a rooster would have arrived at the bottom of the crater with all the safari animals. The third crow just a few seconds later was interrupted mid call, and I when I turned around to see what it was my host sister was standing there on toying with her phone. Apparently that’s the sound of her incoming text messages.
Maasai at the Beach
On the second to last day of my trip to Zanzibar I was dropped off by my guide at a random beach hotel and told that he would come pick me up several hours later. I had to pay an entrance fee of 2,000 shillings, order lunch for myself, and find entertainment. I was initially rather annoyed with this since all of these things were supposed to be covered in the cost of my trip, and leaving me to play by myself was never in the itinerary.
However, after a few minutes of getting settled, I relaxed and decided to just go with it. From the hotel I could see the beach, except it appeared to be about a kilometer off in the distance. I challenged myself to make it all the way out there even though the waiter at the restaurant told me that the tide would come in just a few short hours. Off I went, holding a kanga over my head to protect my unfortunately white skin from the blaring afternoon sun. After a few minutes I came across a group of three boys catching small fish by smacking sticks against the sand in small pools of water. As I continued on, the water got to be about ankle deep, but the real ocean border was still far off in the distance. I came across a ton of cool creatures including fat, sand-colored starfish, skinny starfish with bright red lines across them in cool vein-like patterns, conch, and other random ocean life.
After awhile I began to feel that I would never reach the ocean. I decided to quit and just stick to observing the creatures on the sea floor. When I got back, I took a nice long nap on the beach, and woke up to find that the ocean had come all the way up to the hotel beach, fully covering all the animals I had seen before. I went for a nice swim in the ocean, and then went to go find myself a soda.
In the process of getting a drink I made friends with several members of the hotel staff. The majority of these guys were Maasai (a tribe I have yet to write about). I was really excited to actually get a chance to talk to them and ask them a few questions.
One of my questions about their tribe was the practice of polygamy. I was especially interested in whether they are allowed to marry members of other tribes, which I learned is an absolute no-no. The guys were so quick to tell me that Maasai don’t marry people of other tribes that I thought I must have misunderstood the question when one of them asked me if I would be his girlfriend. I immediately challenged his request given their previous statement, but as it turns out, Maasai are allowed actually allowed to marry Maasai or mzungu – just not other Swahilis. Unfortunately I denied the request, although if his courtship proposal had turned into a marriage he would have had to go kill a lion for my father and give him a bunch of cattle. Pretty cool deal if you ask me.
So Far, So Good!
Well I arrived in Amsterdam at 10:30am Holland time. The plane managed to brake just fine, and the nun never stopped being a royal pain in my back. My flight still seems to be going as scheduled, so I’ll board at about 1:00pm for my 2:05pm flight home.
The Amsterdam airport doesn’t yet have free Wi-Fi, although it is apparently coming soon. I had to pay $12 Euros for 90 minutes of internet time. The guy selling me my pass code required all of my flight information and my driver’s license, which I found to be a little sketchy, but I wanted to be connected so badly I just sucked it up. Of course, my computer ran out of battery on the plane, so when I went to go charge it I unfortunately discovered that my converter for the African outlets is not the same as what I need here. I had to go back to the stand and cough up another 12 Euros, but what the heck? I’d already paid for the internet connection.
Anyway, I’ve been writing a bunch of blog posts while waiting for planes, so I’ll be going through them this morning and hopefully posting a bunch before catching my plane for the last leg home. Can’t wait to be home!
The Amsterdam airport doesn’t yet have free Wi-Fi, although it is apparently coming soon. I had to pay $12 Euros for 90 minutes of internet time. The guy selling me my pass code required all of my flight information and my driver’s license, which I found to be a little sketchy, but I wanted to be connected so badly I just sucked it up. Of course, my computer ran out of battery on the plane, so when I went to go charge it I unfortunately discovered that my converter for the African outlets is not the same as what I need here. I had to go back to the stand and cough up another 12 Euros, but what the heck? I’d already paid for the internet connection.
Anyway, I’ve been writing a bunch of blog posts while waiting for planes, so I’ll be going through them this morning and hopefully posting a bunch before catching my plane for the last leg home. Can’t wait to be home!
An Uncertain Landing
Everything went relatively smoothly yesterday. I spent the day exploring Dar es Salaam with Godfrey and made it to the airport with plenty of time to spare. I was only concerned my bags would be too heavy, but they ended up being within the limit.
We boarded the plane a little bit later than the scheduled time, but it wasn’t too much of an issue. When I got on the plane I immediately asked for a glass of water so I could take some Benadryl. On my flight here I ignored the advice to do so and found myself unable to sleep in these uncomfortable seats. The flight attendant totally blew me off and made some snappy comment about finding my seat before making requests. I just went to the next flight attendant who was standing closer to my assigned seat closer to my seat and she was happy to help me.
I struggled to get the pills out of their packaging while the same cranky flight attendant told the passengers to close their own overhead compartments since the flight attendants are tired of doing it every day. It sounded like we were ready to go, so I popped the pills, turned on my iPod shuffle, and closed my eyes.
Not 45 seconds after I had shut my eyes did the pilot come online and start jibber jabbering in Dutch. I thought it was a regular announcement, so by the time he got to translating his announcement into English and saying words like “brakes” and “delay” I wanted to kick myself for not paying more attention. We had to wait an incredibly long time for who knows what, with the Benadryl making my eyelids heavier with every minute that passed. Somewhere in the wait I heard something about, “The engineers trying to fix it, but if they can’t we’ll have to take all the bags off the plane, which will take a long time.” Of course, they couldn’t fix it (whatever it was), so we had to wait another 45 minutes to unload all of the cargo.
We finally took off at God knows what time and began our journey to Amsterdam. Unfortunately the Benadryl wore off around 3:30 am, which may or may not have been a long way into the flight. Out of curiosity, I decided to ask my neighbors what had happened. What I heard was so ridiculous I couldn’t help but laugh...
Apparently the fuel line was broken. They tried to replace the pipe, and couldn’t, so they had to take all of our baggage off the plane. When I asked my neighbor what this had to do with fixing the fuel pipe, he seemed adamant that taking off the bags was a sufficient solution to a leaking fuel pipe. I didn’t believe the explanation at all, but was more preoccupied figuring out what was in my checked baggage and how and when I would be able to get it back. I mean, clearly we wouldn’t be flying with a broken fuel line, right?
Well a few more hours into our journey I got up to go to the bathroom. I got talking with this guy who had been climbing Mt. Kilimamjaro. He seemed thoroughly exhausted and defeated. I kept asking him questions and we finally got the part of the story where the volcano in Iceland had delayed his travels by a full week. Even worse, this flight to Amsterdam was now so late that he would be missing his connection to Wales and have to spend another day waiting for a plane to take him home. I felt really bad for the guy, but figured I’d just go ahead and ask him what was going on with the plane since he seemed to speak English with an accent I could at least understand.
The real story, or at least the one he told me, is that when they were doing a final check of the airplane at the airport, they noticed the hydraulic brake line was leaking. They were unsuccessful in fixing it, but decided that if they took of 4 tons of cargo they would be able to fly safely. The passangers’ bags were first, so they had to take time to get them all off before removing the cargo. We probably weren’t separated from our baggage, but our brakes are still broken. I’m actually writing this blog from the plane, very interested in what this landing is going to feel like. I guess landing with no brakes is safe. They didn’t ask the passengers to take a vote on it or anything so, so I guess they feel confident enough to take our lives in their hands with no breaks.
In any case, the battery is running low and the food is on the way. I’ve been catching up on a bunch of movies and TV shows on the plane while trying to ignore the oversized nun sitting behind me who keeps asking me very loudly to keep my seat in its full upright position and avoid any reclining since her legs don’t’ have enough room. I listen for about 5 minutes before putting it back again, at which point she likes to jam her knee into the back of my seat, completely ruining any potential for rest that I have.
I can’t be too upset though; my six hour layover has given me enough of a buffer that this 3 hour delay shouldn’t leave me stranded in Amsterdam. Fingers crossed!
We boarded the plane a little bit later than the scheduled time, but it wasn’t too much of an issue. When I got on the plane I immediately asked for a glass of water so I could take some Benadryl. On my flight here I ignored the advice to do so and found myself unable to sleep in these uncomfortable seats. The flight attendant totally blew me off and made some snappy comment about finding my seat before making requests. I just went to the next flight attendant who was standing closer to my assigned seat closer to my seat and she was happy to help me.
I struggled to get the pills out of their packaging while the same cranky flight attendant told the passengers to close their own overhead compartments since the flight attendants are tired of doing it every day. It sounded like we were ready to go, so I popped the pills, turned on my iPod shuffle, and closed my eyes.
Not 45 seconds after I had shut my eyes did the pilot come online and start jibber jabbering in Dutch. I thought it was a regular announcement, so by the time he got to translating his announcement into English and saying words like “brakes” and “delay” I wanted to kick myself for not paying more attention. We had to wait an incredibly long time for who knows what, with the Benadryl making my eyelids heavier with every minute that passed. Somewhere in the wait I heard something about, “The engineers trying to fix it, but if they can’t we’ll have to take all the bags off the plane, which will take a long time.” Of course, they couldn’t fix it (whatever it was), so we had to wait another 45 minutes to unload all of the cargo.
We finally took off at God knows what time and began our journey to Amsterdam. Unfortunately the Benadryl wore off around 3:30 am, which may or may not have been a long way into the flight. Out of curiosity, I decided to ask my neighbors what had happened. What I heard was so ridiculous I couldn’t help but laugh...
Apparently the fuel line was broken. They tried to replace the pipe, and couldn’t, so they had to take all of our baggage off the plane. When I asked my neighbor what this had to do with fixing the fuel pipe, he seemed adamant that taking off the bags was a sufficient solution to a leaking fuel pipe. I didn’t believe the explanation at all, but was more preoccupied figuring out what was in my checked baggage and how and when I would be able to get it back. I mean, clearly we wouldn’t be flying with a broken fuel line, right?
Well a few more hours into our journey I got up to go to the bathroom. I got talking with this guy who had been climbing Mt. Kilimamjaro. He seemed thoroughly exhausted and defeated. I kept asking him questions and we finally got the part of the story where the volcano in Iceland had delayed his travels by a full week. Even worse, this flight to Amsterdam was now so late that he would be missing his connection to Wales and have to spend another day waiting for a plane to take him home. I felt really bad for the guy, but figured I’d just go ahead and ask him what was going on with the plane since he seemed to speak English with an accent I could at least understand.
The real story, or at least the one he told me, is that when they were doing a final check of the airplane at the airport, they noticed the hydraulic brake line was leaking. They were unsuccessful in fixing it, but decided that if they took of 4 tons of cargo they would be able to fly safely. The passangers’ bags were first, so they had to take time to get them all off before removing the cargo. We probably weren’t separated from our baggage, but our brakes are still broken. I’m actually writing this blog from the plane, very interested in what this landing is going to feel like. I guess landing with no brakes is safe. They didn’t ask the passengers to take a vote on it or anything so, so I guess they feel confident enough to take our lives in their hands with no breaks.
In any case, the battery is running low and the food is on the way. I’ve been catching up on a bunch of movies and TV shows on the plane while trying to ignore the oversized nun sitting behind me who keeps asking me very loudly to keep my seat in its full upright position and avoid any reclining since her legs don’t’ have enough room. I listen for about 5 minutes before putting it back again, at which point she likes to jam her knee into the back of my seat, completely ruining any potential for rest that I have.
I can’t be too upset though; my six hour layover has given me enough of a buffer that this 3 hour delay shouldn’t leave me stranded in Amsterdam. Fingers crossed!
Last Day of School
When I walked into the Kindergarten classroom to say good morning to all my little friends for the last time, I was so overwhelmed that I actually had to go outside and collect myself. I’ve had a really great experience here at Chumbageni and am finding it hard to believe that these kids will be a lot more than just a ten minute walk away from my house in a few days.
Anyway, I spent almost the entire morning giving out a huge pack of stickers my mom sent me last month. The kids were so excited to get to choose which one they wanted and where they wanted to put it, and were very sure of their selections even though there were about 100 different options. I was happy to have something somewhat purposeful to be doing, and also to get to say goodbye to each child individually. I went from desk to desk from Kindergarten up to 2nd grade, probably interacting with over 200 different kids.
After sticker time the Kindergarten class invited me to come drink ugi with them. We all sat in a big circle and drank this sweet porridge like food and said goodbye to each other. There was barely enough ugi to go around, so the Kindergarten teacher and I took very small cups for ourselves.
One of the girls in the class saw I had finished very quickly and came over to offer me some of hers. After pouring a bit of her ugi into my cup, other students began following suit. Before I knew it there was a whole line of kids coming to give me ugi. The whole thing was far too cute for me to refuse, although I was a little less than happy about the exchange of so many cooties. I must have been given 3 or 4 full new cups of ugi by the students, but was luckily able to continue the chain by giving my ugi to other kids in the circle. I guess the cooties must have done their job since I am now dreading boarding my plane with a brand new stomach bug. But that might also be due to my stupid decision to eat raw fish at a sushi restaurant the day before travelling home. I don’t know where my brain has gone, but my stomach is certainly displeased with my decision making abilities.
In any case, I spent the rest of the afternoon just talking with people and saying goodbyes. We had a big goodbye party at the end of the day. I spent the rest of the day packing and saying goodbyes to the many visitors who showed up throughout the evening. Even after just 3 months, I apparently met quite a lot of people! And while I am not one for goodbyes, I couldn’t avoid them since it is considered very rude in this culture to leave without saying goodbye to each and every person either in person or on the phone. It was an exhausting but great reminder of all the great people I have met and experiences I have had here.
Anyway, I spent almost the entire morning giving out a huge pack of stickers my mom sent me last month. The kids were so excited to get to choose which one they wanted and where they wanted to put it, and were very sure of their selections even though there were about 100 different options. I was happy to have something somewhat purposeful to be doing, and also to get to say goodbye to each child individually. I went from desk to desk from Kindergarten up to 2nd grade, probably interacting with over 200 different kids.
After sticker time the Kindergarten class invited me to come drink ugi with them. We all sat in a big circle and drank this sweet porridge like food and said goodbye to each other. There was barely enough ugi to go around, so the Kindergarten teacher and I took very small cups for ourselves.
One of the girls in the class saw I had finished very quickly and came over to offer me some of hers. After pouring a bit of her ugi into my cup, other students began following suit. Before I knew it there was a whole line of kids coming to give me ugi. The whole thing was far too cute for me to refuse, although I was a little less than happy about the exchange of so many cooties. I must have been given 3 or 4 full new cups of ugi by the students, but was luckily able to continue the chain by giving my ugi to other kids in the circle. I guess the cooties must have done their job since I am now dreading boarding my plane with a brand new stomach bug. But that might also be due to my stupid decision to eat raw fish at a sushi restaurant the day before travelling home. I don’t know where my brain has gone, but my stomach is certainly displeased with my decision making abilities.
In any case, I spent the rest of the afternoon just talking with people and saying goodbyes. We had a big goodbye party at the end of the day. I spent the rest of the day packing and saying goodbyes to the many visitors who showed up throughout the evening. Even after just 3 months, I apparently met quite a lot of people! And while I am not one for goodbyes, I couldn’t avoid them since it is considered very rude in this culture to leave without saying goodbye to each and every person either in person or on the phone. It was an exhausting but great reminder of all the great people I have met and experiences I have had here.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Arriving in Dar
While we could easily have travelled to Dar es Salaam on Saturday with plenty of time to catch my 11:30pm flight, I was happy to drive here with Godfrey (my host father)today. Given my experiences with driving in Tanzania, I figured my anxiety level would be significantly lower if I arrived here with a full day to spare.
That turns out to be a marvelous idea, given how many times my heart almost stopped on my trip down here. Before I begin, I will emphasize that I am perfectly safe, happy, content, and writing this blog post from a nice hotel in town.
The first issue we had was crossing through a small town that requires a significant reduction in speed upon entry. There was a police officer with a radar gun who pulled us over for going 75 in a 50 kph zone. My host father, always ready for a good battle of the wits, managed to talk his way out of it by claiming that he only had as much money as the ticket cost, and would be SOL if he had any real issues between here and Dar es Salaam given that there are no ATMs between the two cities. With a fully elaborated limp from his accident several months back and very erratic outbursts of emotion, he was able to talk his way out of the ticket and was allowed to pass without any trouble.
While getting a good laugh about the story as he retold the whole thing (in English this time), he got distracted from the road with our eye contact and we almost found our way into the grill of an oncoming bus.
Our next close encounter was at the next police stop. We were not required to stop (the checkpoints along the road are usually random) and passed all the cars along the right side of the road. Everyone is usually eager to get waved passed the stops, including this very big bus that didn’t see us as he jutted out to pass the bus in front of him, almost smashing my passenger’s side door and sending us off the road.
I thought I was being a bit dramatic about insisting on driving to Dar es Salaam a day early, but I now feel as though it was a completely reasonable decision.
On a different note, we'll be heading out to a Tanzanian mall soon and then have an early sushi dinner before hitting the hay and resting up for a full day of touring Dar and a late night plane flight tomorrow.
That turns out to be a marvelous idea, given how many times my heart almost stopped on my trip down here. Before I begin, I will emphasize that I am perfectly safe, happy, content, and writing this blog post from a nice hotel in town.
The first issue we had was crossing through a small town that requires a significant reduction in speed upon entry. There was a police officer with a radar gun who pulled us over for going 75 in a 50 kph zone. My host father, always ready for a good battle of the wits, managed to talk his way out of it by claiming that he only had as much money as the ticket cost, and would be SOL if he had any real issues between here and Dar es Salaam given that there are no ATMs between the two cities. With a fully elaborated limp from his accident several months back and very erratic outbursts of emotion, he was able to talk his way out of the ticket and was allowed to pass without any trouble.
While getting a good laugh about the story as he retold the whole thing (in English this time), he got distracted from the road with our eye contact and we almost found our way into the grill of an oncoming bus.
Our next close encounter was at the next police stop. We were not required to stop (the checkpoints along the road are usually random) and passed all the cars along the right side of the road. Everyone is usually eager to get waved passed the stops, including this very big bus that didn’t see us as he jutted out to pass the bus in front of him, almost smashing my passenger’s side door and sending us off the road.
I thought I was being a bit dramatic about insisting on driving to Dar es Salaam a day early, but I now feel as though it was a completely reasonable decision.
On a different note, we'll be heading out to a Tanzanian mall soon and then have an early sushi dinner before hitting the hay and resting up for a full day of touring Dar and a late night plane flight tomorrow.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Last Weeks...
It's only been 11 days but it feels like a lifetime ago since I last wrote on my blog. I was hoping to be almost finished before my plane touches down at IAD, but it seems like this will be an ongoing process. Saying goodbye here is a never-ending process and finding any time for rest, let alone writing on my blog, has been almost impossible. Luckily I've been jotting down blog titles over the last week and a half so I won't forget too many funny stories and recent impressions.
A rough sketch of what's been going on:
Since returning from holiday on April 12th I planned an entire trip to Zanzibar using my Lonely Planet guide to Tanzania. I then spent 4 days there, skipping school on Monday, and have returned for just three more days of school before driving down to Dar es Salaam to catch a plane back home (volcano permitting, of course).
Things from last week:
- Last Tuesday students from the 4th grade classes of Key and Chumbageni Skyped. The theme was music, so the kid here shared their national anthem, a patriotic song, ad their school song. The kids at Key played the recorder (how Orff of them!)and asked some really great questions. I have been really improving with my Swahili and was so psyched that I could translate a large part of the conversation.
- My keyboard went haywire and now chooses to skip letters every now and then. This has made for interesting gchats, emails, and now blog posts. Apologies for the many typos.
- I spent all day on Wednesday opening email accounts for every teacher at the school. I made a contact list for every teacher as well as a power point presentation that includes a picture and a brief background on every teacher. Exhausting, but totally worth it.
- Thursday the 1st graders Skyped with Mrs. Waymouth's Kindergarten class. They got to talk about what they do after school and other things about their life. We learned that only one student in the Key School K class has chickens, and almost everyone owns a dog. Here, everyone owns a chicken, but only one person owns a dog.
- Friday is always a half day. I took off for Zanzibar at 3:30 and came back Monday at 2:30. I have copied my itinerary in its original form into a separate post. Pictures have already been posted, but look for more in the future about how the trip actually went. Overall it is a beautiful place and I had a great time....
- Tuesday (Yesterday) after school we Skyped with the 3rd graders. This was very cool since these kids have already exchanged one round of letters with each other with the second round currently in transit. The kids really enjoyed getting to meet their pen friends and learning about the similarities and differences in between our two countries (sports, classes, chores, etc.) The most interesting thing was that the kids here are mostly Muslim, with a few Christians mixed in. At Key it's a mixture of Christians and Jews. The teachers and students don't know anything about the Jewish religion (unless we were having trouble translating, but they seemed to genuinely unaware of what it was). There was also an athiest in the class at Key, but I've had enough of an interesting experience trying to explain that about myself when I am asked so I decided to just stick with Christian for the sake of the short conversation. After that, we moved to my house where the kids got to see my room and my bathroom for a fun compare/contrast exercise. They were in the middle of picking their next room when we got a call from the US Library and skipped up the road to talk to them. It was really cool getting to meet the big kids, but for me the best surprise was getting to see my sister and introduce her to my students at Chumbageni.
- Yesterday also included a trip to a local hostel to take pics and gather information for any group who would potentially like to come visit Chumbageni. We then went to the post office to get a new key (the old one was lost), followed by the internet store. All lines of communication should now be functioning and people should be able to stay in touch even after I leave.
That's the quick version of everthing that's been happening lately. Four more days until I'll be home.....
A rough sketch of what's been going on:
Since returning from holiday on April 12th I planned an entire trip to Zanzibar using my Lonely Planet guide to Tanzania. I then spent 4 days there, skipping school on Monday, and have returned for just three more days of school before driving down to Dar es Salaam to catch a plane back home (volcano permitting, of course).
Things from last week:
- Last Tuesday students from the 4th grade classes of Key and Chumbageni Skyped. The theme was music, so the kid here shared their national anthem, a patriotic song, ad their school song. The kids at Key played the recorder (how Orff of them!)and asked some really great questions. I have been really improving with my Swahili and was so psyched that I could translate a large part of the conversation.
- My keyboard went haywire and now chooses to skip letters every now and then. This has made for interesting gchats, emails, and now blog posts. Apologies for the many typos.
- I spent all day on Wednesday opening email accounts for every teacher at the school. I made a contact list for every teacher as well as a power point presentation that includes a picture and a brief background on every teacher. Exhausting, but totally worth it.
- Thursday the 1st graders Skyped with Mrs. Waymouth's Kindergarten class. They got to talk about what they do after school and other things about their life. We learned that only one student in the Key School K class has chickens, and almost everyone owns a dog. Here, everyone owns a chicken, but only one person owns a dog.
- Friday is always a half day. I took off for Zanzibar at 3:30 and came back Monday at 2:30. I have copied my itinerary in its original form into a separate post. Pictures have already been posted, but look for more in the future about how the trip actually went. Overall it is a beautiful place and I had a great time....
- Tuesday (Yesterday) after school we Skyped with the 3rd graders. This was very cool since these kids have already exchanged one round of letters with each other with the second round currently in transit. The kids really enjoyed getting to meet their pen friends and learning about the similarities and differences in between our two countries (sports, classes, chores, etc.) The most interesting thing was that the kids here are mostly Muslim, with a few Christians mixed in. At Key it's a mixture of Christians and Jews. The teachers and students don't know anything about the Jewish religion (unless we were having trouble translating, but they seemed to genuinely unaware of what it was). There was also an athiest in the class at Key, but I've had enough of an interesting experience trying to explain that about myself when I am asked so I decided to just stick with Christian for the sake of the short conversation. After that, we moved to my house where the kids got to see my room and my bathroom for a fun compare/contrast exercise. They were in the middle of picking their next room when we got a call from the US Library and skipped up the road to talk to them. It was really cool getting to meet the big kids, but for me the best surprise was getting to see my sister and introduce her to my students at Chumbageni.
- Yesterday also included a trip to a local hostel to take pics and gather information for any group who would potentially like to come visit Chumbageni. We then went to the post office to get a new key (the old one was lost), followed by the internet store. All lines of communication should now be functioning and people should be able to stay in touch even after I leave.
That's the quick version of everthing that's been happening lately. Four more days until I'll be home.....
Zanzibar Itinerary
Thursday:
Pick up from Zanzibar airport at 5:30pm and transfer to Clove Hotel in the heart of Stone town,check inn at the hotel and relax, at 7:00pm, our guide will pick you up and walk to Forodhan garden, where you can see the local seafood market,mix with Zanzibaris in this eating place and choose your dinner,you can also have an option to go and see several bars in Stone town,back to the hotel and overnight.
Friday:
After breakfast, you will be picked up for a walking historical Stone town, after Stone town tour then we will drive you to the Spice farms for Spice tour, before the tour you have an opulant lunch of trypical Zanzibar cuisine served in alocal house (to see Zanzibar Culture & tradition), after lunch proceed to the Spice farms to see the reason why Zanzibar is called a Spice Island,back to the Hotel around 4:00pm, free time to explore on your own and overnight Clove Hotel.
Saturday:
After breakfast at 9:00am you will be picked and drive to Jozani forest to see the monkeys,this tour ends around 1:00pm where you will be driven to South east cost for beach leisure,lunch at any restaurant around there, back to Stonetown around 7:00pm and overnight Clove Hotel.
Sunday:
After breakfast, pick up and board a motorised dhow boat and head to Prison Island. Earning its name as a former prison for slaves and a quarantine station for Zanzibar and the mainland nowadays the island gives you the chance to escape for some peace and quiet. The island lies just off the Old Stone Town and is home to giant tortoises that were imported from the Seychelles in the late 19th century. It is fringed with a beautiful coral reef, ideal for snorkelling, and has a lovely white beach for sunbathing,this is a half day trip back to Stone town and drive to Zanzibar airport to catch the Coastal Aviation flight to Tanga.
Pick up from Zanzibar airport at 5:30pm and transfer to Clove Hotel in the heart of Stone town,check inn at the hotel and relax, at 7:00pm, our guide will pick you up and walk to Forodhan garden, where you can see the local seafood market,mix with Zanzibaris in this eating place and choose your dinner,you can also have an option to go and see several bars in Stone town,back to the hotel and overnight.
Friday:
After breakfast, you will be picked up for a walking historical Stone town, after Stone town tour then we will drive you to the Spice farms for Spice tour, before the tour you have an opulant lunch of trypical Zanzibar cuisine served in alocal house (to see Zanzibar Culture & tradition), after lunch proceed to the Spice farms to see the reason why Zanzibar is called a Spice Island,back to the Hotel around 4:00pm, free time to explore on your own and overnight Clove Hotel.
Saturday:
After breakfast at 9:00am you will be picked and drive to Jozani forest to see the monkeys,this tour ends around 1:00pm where you will be driven to South east cost for beach leisure,lunch at any restaurant around there, back to Stonetown around 7:00pm and overnight Clove Hotel.
Sunday:
After breakfast, pick up and board a motorised dhow boat and head to Prison Island. Earning its name as a former prison for slaves and a quarantine station for Zanzibar and the mainland nowadays the island gives you the chance to escape for some peace and quiet. The island lies just off the Old Stone Town and is home to giant tortoises that were imported from the Seychelles in the late 19th century. It is fringed with a beautiful coral reef, ideal for snorkelling, and has a lovely white beach for sunbathing,this is a half day trip back to Stone town and drive to Zanzibar airport to catch the Coastal Aviation flight to Tanga.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Holy Cow
Once upon a time I went to buy a loaf of bread. The store happened to be right next to the butcher. The butcher happened to have just finished chopping up a cow. The cow happened to be piled in pieces on the porch floor outside his shop. On the top of the pile happened to be a cow’s shnasholy (aka mouth) and a few other readily identifiable pieces. I didn’t throw up, but I am currently reconsidering my omnivorous status.
Visoda Vingapi?
I am currently trying to collect a bunch of soda caps, called visoda in Kiswahili. I want to do a project with the third grade class who uses them as counters when doing addition and subtraction, and also want to cover the front of a scrapbook with them when I come home and make an album of my trip.
I guess Victoria mentioned my treasure hunt to a few people here in Arusha, because a guy who lives on the mountain showed up at 8 o’clock at night to give me an entire grocery bag filled with beer bottle caps. I guess Victoria forgot to tell him that I am only interested in soda caps. The poor guy was so drunk it wasn’t even funny. I should probably thank him for his commendable effort but he didn’t have to drink all of those beers just to help me out.
I guess Victoria mentioned my treasure hunt to a few people here in Arusha, because a guy who lives on the mountain showed up at 8 o’clock at night to give me an entire grocery bag filled with beer bottle caps. I guess Victoria forgot to tell him that I am only interested in soda caps. The poor guy was so drunk it wasn’t even funny. I should probably thank him for his commendable effort but he didn’t have to drink all of those beers just to help me out.
Night Tremors
Our safari driver was quite animated on the drive back home and had the whole car cracking up laughing. It turns out that he was woken up in the middle of the night by an earthquake. That’s right, an earthquake. I guess I really do sleep like a rock because I still don’t believe it. No great shakes, I guess.
http://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/recenteqsww/Quakes/us2010uvc5.php
http://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/recenteqsww/Quakes/us2010uvc5.php
What's in a Name?
I don’t know why it came up but I got into a discussion with my host family the other day about names. Much like in the States, most people here have three names. However, rather than having a first, middle, and last name they have a given name, father’s name, and surname. Given name and surname are clearly synonymous with first and last name, but the middle names of everyone here are almost always just the name of your father, regardless of whether you are a boy or a girl. I have always felt that I was missing something growing up without a middle name. I guess it never occurred to me to use Chelsea Todd.
Police Encounter
We got pulled over by the police at a road check point on Friday. We had all of the appropriate documents and should have been cleared to go, but the officer asked us to pull further off the road and park. That was about all I understood, but after a bunch of rapid Swahili speak my younger hopped out of the car to go speak privately with the officer. The officer then came up to the window again, this time on the passenger’s side, looked carefully around the inside of the car, had a brief exchange with my host father, and then let us go saying, “Safari Njema!”
It turns out that we were asked to pull off the road so that my host father could speak in private with the officer. Godfrey had told his son Gilbert to tell the cop that his leg was injured and he couldn’t come out to talk to him. The cop then came over the car to check out his leg, and then ask Godfrey for money so that he could go buy sodas for all of the officers. Godfrey told him we have no money, so he was forced to let us go. The cop was pretty disappointed that the old man with the white girl in his car wasn’t feeling in the mood to pay him a bribe, but there wasn’t too much he could do about it. Maybe if he wasn’t so interested in having a private conversation with Godfrey he would have noticed that the driver side mirror was completely smashed off and was probably deserving of a ticket.
It turns out that we were asked to pull off the road so that my host father could speak in private with the officer. Godfrey had told his son Gilbert to tell the cop that his leg was injured and he couldn’t come out to talk to him. The cop then came over the car to check out his leg, and then ask Godfrey for money so that he could go buy sodas for all of the officers. Godfrey told him we have no money, so he was forced to let us go. The cop was pretty disappointed that the old man with the white girl in his car wasn’t feeling in the mood to pay him a bribe, but there wasn’t too much he could do about it. Maybe if he wasn’t so interested in having a private conversation with Godfrey he would have noticed that the driver side mirror was completely smashed off and was probably deserving of a ticket.
Safari, Safari
The word “safari” has two different meanings depending on who you ask. If you ask me, it is a specific reference to a Lion King type of adventure in the national parks and conservation areas of Africa. However, in Kiswahili, safari just means trip or journey. If you want to talk about Land Cruisers, baboons and warthogs you say you’re going to the National Parks. Unfortunately this led to a few things getting lost in translation, as our “safari” ended up just being 2 major travel days and only 1 full day for an animal-kingdom-filled adventure. That’s a 3 day safari, right?
I woke up this morning fully expecting another day of great adventures in the park. We had said we were going to Manyara National Park, but I was told at breakfast that we might just travel down some other roads outside the park boundaries to see if we could track down some giraffes on our own since it is the only big animal (except the rhinoceros) that we haven’t seen. We had to get up early to go giraffe spotting, but it was still going to be another day for safari.
As it turns out, we woke up early in order to go back to our home in Arusha sooner and return the vehicle we were driving. The road that we went “giraffe-searching” on was just the main highway to go home, and we went past the national park we were supposed to visit at around 100 km/h with clearly no intention of entering. My spirits dropped quite a bit when I realized what was going on, but I tried to keep a smile on my face and be positive about our giraffe hunt.
A few people spotted giraffes way off in the distance, but nothing more than small yellow dots on the horizon. I was getting pretty moion sick from watching out the side window so I switched my attention to the horizon out the front window and let everyone else do the spotting.
As I was intently staring at the road, I saw a funny looking tree that I swear had a peculiar angle to its trunk. I thought it slightly resembled a strange long-necked animal and was altogether quite funny looking; not surprising however given the many awesomely awkward baobab trees and other flora here. I saw the tree catch my host brother’s eye too, and before you knew it we were parked on the side of the road within 5 feet of the most enormous, male giraffe I’ve ever seen. He was just chilling, eating a nice road-side breakfast in the tree tops minding his own business. I got to snap some cool pictures of him, and in less than 3 minutes we were on the road again. We could now put a tick in the box for spotting a giraffe and move on with the rest of our day.
As we approached Arusha where we had left our personal truck two days before, my host siblings and I stopped at a snake park to pass the time while Victoria and Godfrey went to go switch out the cars. I was slightly relieved that we had something interesting to do while we waited, and got a kick out of looking at all the snakes in cages, some big alligators with bloodstained teeth, and some very cute baby turtles.
The best part was getting to put a real live snake around my neck and pushing my frightened host siblings to do the same. I don’t know why they weren’t interested in doing the same -- the guard said she only gets hungry once a week.
After finishing up at the snake park we went across the street to the Masai cultural museum. I was very happy to get a tour from a real Masai and get to learn a lot more about their culture. I will include a separate entry for this experience at a later time since I find this tribe to be particularly interesting.
At the end of the tour there are real Masai dwellings with women selling various arts and crafts. I have no money and am desperately in need of an ATM but have unfortunately been SOL for a few days now given either the absence of time or machine along our safari. I was feeling pretty bummed that I couldn’t buy anything directly from the person who made it, but my hopes were raised when I saw that the gift shop in a different part of the museum had small sticker in the window indicating they take Visa card. I found that pretty unusual given that I haven’t been able to pay for anything with credit card since my stay at the Holiday Inn on the first night, so it was more disappointing than surprising when they told me that the machine was broken.
Not wanting to torture myself anymore by staying in the gift shop I went outside to see what everyone else was up to. It turned out they were talking to a Masai that was offering camel rides behind the museum and had just sent someone to retrieve two of them from the field.
When I think camels I think the Sahara desert, but I guess why not have them in Tanzania? In short, these guys were tall and awesome. I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves, but it was super cool to see them up-close in personal. While waiting for my turn to ride them I was trying to figure out how they ever inspired a brand of cigarettes. It still baffles me but I imagine it probably has to do with their too-cool-for-school facial expression.
The two camels took their good old time coming down from way up in the sky as they took a sitting position on the sky. The process was so labored that I figured it must be hurting them or something. Actually, they were probably just thinking about how stupid the exercise of sitting down, standing up, walking 50 yards in a circle, and sitting back down is again and again.
In any case, Suzie and I got to ride together on the camel with me up in the front and her holding onto me for dear life. The guy told us to hold on tight and lean back. Before we knew it the roller coaster ride had started and there was absoutely no stopping it. I wish I had a video to show you the whole thing but you literally get thrown from front to back, thinking at one moment that you’re going to be flung off his hump onto his neck and the next that you’re going to be flipped off his backside for a 20 foot drop to the ground. The camel also takes his time standing up with a bit of a stutter, giving you enough time to wonder whether he’s about to collapse, buck you off, or continue the labored process of standing up.
Once you’re up on him it resembles something of a horse ride with an exaggeratedly rhythmic, bumpy pace to it. Being on his hump you are quite high in the air, to the point that we had to shout down to the Masai dragging Mr. Camel along by a rope to ask him about our new four-legged friend.
After maybe 3 minutes of walking in a circle we prepared ourselves for the descent. We both had the anticipation of coming up to the edge of a big waterfall as he sat down, this time feeling more like someone forgot to put on the brakes during a climbing belay than anything else. My stomach slowly found its way back into place after a brief visit with my throat as we dismounted and sat down to watch the others take their turn.
Given that there were an odd number of us, I actually got to go twice. The second time I rode on the back with my older brother on the front. The back proved to be a lot tamer than the front, except my little arms were almost ripped out of their sockets while trying to reach around my host brother to grab the hand holds in front.
After the rides I asked if it was okay to go up and pet my camel friends. I was trying to ask if there are any special rules for camels to avoid spooking them or getting hurt, but the guy seemed to indicate that everything was AOK. I guess the camel I chose to pet first was a little jealous that I had taken both of my rides on his sister because as I reached up to pet him he turned at lightning speed to bite me.
I’m glad to say that (1) he missed, and (2) that the misinformation was from the camel’s owner instead of the man at the snake park who put the supposedly harmless snake around my neck. I think that if the camel had actually bitten me (and he opened his mouth enough to show me that he had a very nice set of teeth) I would have preferred that he take his best shot spitting at me, but I think it worked out for the best in the end.
While pulling myself together after the camel ride I felt my money belt strapped to my stomach. I am particularly fond of it since it adds a few extra layers of chubbiness under my shirt, but is definitely worth the extra security. Anyway, I remembered that I had money stuffed in there with my passport for safe-keeping and for potential use on my travel back to the States. The dollars are useless pretty much everywhere I go since I haven’t been to many touristy places, but the gift shop prices were all listed in dollars. I was so excited at the discovery that I almost spent all of my lunch money at the store buying some very cool hand crafted items. Luckily I was able to bargain with the cashier for a $13 dollar discount – just enough for a good snack during my layover in Amsterdam in 2 weeks.
If we hadn’t forgone the day’s safari I wouldn’t have been able to hold the snake, chat with the Masai, ride a camel, or spend too much money on gifts. I did get to see a giraffe up close and personal, more or less completing the checklist of awesome African animals and certainly can’t complain about the incredible experience I had in Ngorongoro crater the day before. While I would love to go back to the national parks some day, ideally during a more active season, I am still very lucky to be on this 3 month safari even if the national park section lasted only one day.
I woke up this morning fully expecting another day of great adventures in the park. We had said we were going to Manyara National Park, but I was told at breakfast that we might just travel down some other roads outside the park boundaries to see if we could track down some giraffes on our own since it is the only big animal (except the rhinoceros) that we haven’t seen. We had to get up early to go giraffe spotting, but it was still going to be another day for safari.
As it turns out, we woke up early in order to go back to our home in Arusha sooner and return the vehicle we were driving. The road that we went “giraffe-searching” on was just the main highway to go home, and we went past the national park we were supposed to visit at around 100 km/h with clearly no intention of entering. My spirits dropped quite a bit when I realized what was going on, but I tried to keep a smile on my face and be positive about our giraffe hunt.
A few people spotted giraffes way off in the distance, but nothing more than small yellow dots on the horizon. I was getting pretty moion sick from watching out the side window so I switched my attention to the horizon out the front window and let everyone else do the spotting.
As I was intently staring at the road, I saw a funny looking tree that I swear had a peculiar angle to its trunk. I thought it slightly resembled a strange long-necked animal and was altogether quite funny looking; not surprising however given the many awesomely awkward baobab trees and other flora here. I saw the tree catch my host brother’s eye too, and before you knew it we were parked on the side of the road within 5 feet of the most enormous, male giraffe I’ve ever seen. He was just chilling, eating a nice road-side breakfast in the tree tops minding his own business. I got to snap some cool pictures of him, and in less than 3 minutes we were on the road again. We could now put a tick in the box for spotting a giraffe and move on with the rest of our day.
As we approached Arusha where we had left our personal truck two days before, my host siblings and I stopped at a snake park to pass the time while Victoria and Godfrey went to go switch out the cars. I was slightly relieved that we had something interesting to do while we waited, and got a kick out of looking at all the snakes in cages, some big alligators with bloodstained teeth, and some very cute baby turtles.
The best part was getting to put a real live snake around my neck and pushing my frightened host siblings to do the same. I don’t know why they weren’t interested in doing the same -- the guard said she only gets hungry once a week.
After finishing up at the snake park we went across the street to the Masai cultural museum. I was very happy to get a tour from a real Masai and get to learn a lot more about their culture. I will include a separate entry for this experience at a later time since I find this tribe to be particularly interesting.
At the end of the tour there are real Masai dwellings with women selling various arts and crafts. I have no money and am desperately in need of an ATM but have unfortunately been SOL for a few days now given either the absence of time or machine along our safari. I was feeling pretty bummed that I couldn’t buy anything directly from the person who made it, but my hopes were raised when I saw that the gift shop in a different part of the museum had small sticker in the window indicating they take Visa card. I found that pretty unusual given that I haven’t been able to pay for anything with credit card since my stay at the Holiday Inn on the first night, so it was more disappointing than surprising when they told me that the machine was broken.
Not wanting to torture myself anymore by staying in the gift shop I went outside to see what everyone else was up to. It turned out they were talking to a Masai that was offering camel rides behind the museum and had just sent someone to retrieve two of them from the field.
When I think camels I think the Sahara desert, but I guess why not have them in Tanzania? In short, these guys were tall and awesome. I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves, but it was super cool to see them up-close in personal. While waiting for my turn to ride them I was trying to figure out how they ever inspired a brand of cigarettes. It still baffles me but I imagine it probably has to do with their too-cool-for-school facial expression.
The two camels took their good old time coming down from way up in the sky as they took a sitting position on the sky. The process was so labored that I figured it must be hurting them or something. Actually, they were probably just thinking about how stupid the exercise of sitting down, standing up, walking 50 yards in a circle, and sitting back down is again and again.
In any case, Suzie and I got to ride together on the camel with me up in the front and her holding onto me for dear life. The guy told us to hold on tight and lean back. Before we knew it the roller coaster ride had started and there was absoutely no stopping it. I wish I had a video to show you the whole thing but you literally get thrown from front to back, thinking at one moment that you’re going to be flung off his hump onto his neck and the next that you’re going to be flipped off his backside for a 20 foot drop to the ground. The camel also takes his time standing up with a bit of a stutter, giving you enough time to wonder whether he’s about to collapse, buck you off, or continue the labored process of standing up.
Once you’re up on him it resembles something of a horse ride with an exaggeratedly rhythmic, bumpy pace to it. Being on his hump you are quite high in the air, to the point that we had to shout down to the Masai dragging Mr. Camel along by a rope to ask him about our new four-legged friend.
After maybe 3 minutes of walking in a circle we prepared ourselves for the descent. We both had the anticipation of coming up to the edge of a big waterfall as he sat down, this time feeling more like someone forgot to put on the brakes during a climbing belay than anything else. My stomach slowly found its way back into place after a brief visit with my throat as we dismounted and sat down to watch the others take their turn.
Given that there were an odd number of us, I actually got to go twice. The second time I rode on the back with my older brother on the front. The back proved to be a lot tamer than the front, except my little arms were almost ripped out of their sockets while trying to reach around my host brother to grab the hand holds in front.
After the rides I asked if it was okay to go up and pet my camel friends. I was trying to ask if there are any special rules for camels to avoid spooking them or getting hurt, but the guy seemed to indicate that everything was AOK. I guess the camel I chose to pet first was a little jealous that I had taken both of my rides on his sister because as I reached up to pet him he turned at lightning speed to bite me.
I’m glad to say that (1) he missed, and (2) that the misinformation was from the camel’s owner instead of the man at the snake park who put the supposedly harmless snake around my neck. I think that if the camel had actually bitten me (and he opened his mouth enough to show me that he had a very nice set of teeth) I would have preferred that he take his best shot spitting at me, but I think it worked out for the best in the end.
While pulling myself together after the camel ride I felt my money belt strapped to my stomach. I am particularly fond of it since it adds a few extra layers of chubbiness under my shirt, but is definitely worth the extra security. Anyway, I remembered that I had money stuffed in there with my passport for safe-keeping and for potential use on my travel back to the States. The dollars are useless pretty much everywhere I go since I haven’t been to many touristy places, but the gift shop prices were all listed in dollars. I was so excited at the discovery that I almost spent all of my lunch money at the store buying some very cool hand crafted items. Luckily I was able to bargain with the cashier for a $13 dollar discount – just enough for a good snack during my layover in Amsterdam in 2 weeks.
If we hadn’t forgone the day’s safari I wouldn’t have been able to hold the snake, chat with the Masai, ride a camel, or spend too much money on gifts. I did get to see a giraffe up close and personal, more or less completing the checklist of awesome African animals and certainly can’t complain about the incredible experience I had in Ngorongoro crater the day before. While I would love to go back to the national parks some day, ideally during a more active season, I am still very lucky to be on this 3 month safari even if the national park section lasted only one day.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Safari PartI: Ngorongoro Crater, TZ
Allaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh u Akbar!
Groan.
Alaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh u Akbar!
Double Groan.
Ash-hadu al-la Ilaha ill Allah
What time is it? Where is my phone?
Ash-hadu al-la Ilaha ill Allah
Seriously?
Ash-hadu anna Muhammadan Rasulullaah
Okay, fine. I’m up. It’s 5:15, but I’m up.
I’m pretty sure this takes place every morning. 5 times a day in fact. But for some reason today is the day it wakes me up like a rooster crowing in my ear. I guess it’s really just bloggers guilt, so I will spend these early hours telling you about my safari yesterday. I just hope that as I am sitting at this restaurant table in the dark, unable to find the light switch, the night guard won’t come try and kill me and I won’t have a heart attack with all these cats crawling around causing mischief. Anyway, back to yesterday...
Part I: Getting Started
We woke up not-so-bright-and-early at 7am and hit the parks by 8:30. The parks open at 6am, but whatever, we’re going to have a full day of it, right? Wrong.
While Victoria and Godfrey have been extremely generous in taking me into their home and making me a part of their family, and while the sun has given me my fair share of burns and darkened my skin a few shades, I have unfortunately not gotten any closer to looking like an African. Not even an albino African. I have done my best to be a chameleon and fit in with things, but there is no denying my mzungu status.
So, while it is very nice that Godfrey insists I am his daughter, there was just about no way the park guards would let me get through by paying the rates of the locals. Were I to have passed the test (and believe me, I had been fully warned to speak only Swahili and to be charming…) the cost of the trip would have been an entrance fee of 10,000 TZ Shillings. Unsurprisingly, however, we had to pay the white-tax of $250 just for having me in the car. (The psychology of listing local prices in shillings and white prices in dollars I found to be very interesting. I’ll let you convert the different prices for yourself. It’s impressive!)
Anyway, we made the bold move of paying for me as a local at the office and then trying to talk our way through the gates. When we were turned away, we not only had fork up the money, but also go to the back of the ever-building line, wasting even more time. I was very entertained by going into the gift shop and walking through the mini museum reading all about the park and its history, but our car just kept getting more impatient imagining the morning prowlers taking refuge out of sight range as the sun got higher.
By 10:00 am we finally made it through the gates and began our journey into Ngorongoro Conservation Area. It’s actually not a national park because people are allowed to live within its borders if they are able to live in harmony with the ecosystem. This really just means that the Masaai tribe and maybe one or two other nomadic groups is free to continue their lifestyle within the park. As we drove up, up, up to the rim of the crater we passed many Masaai herding their cattle and around their unique homes, just going about their lives. We also got to see a chui (leopard) walking along the road but he jumped out of sight before anyone had a chance to snap a pic.
At the top of the crater we stopped for a bathroom break while 3 Masaai men came over to sell me beautiful handcrafted necklaces. Being white, the price for each was 5,000/= (TZ shillings). I really wanted to buy them, but the disgusted reaction of my Swahili family made me feel far too guilty to cave at the apparently egregious price. I decided to get my Swahili on and use my superb language skills and irresistible charm to bring down the price. Yeah right.
To be honest, I’d be happy paying their asking price and supporting local tribes and art and all that other good stuff. My goal was just to get it down to a level that I wouldn’t look like a total fool to my entire family when I agreed to the price. The only problem was that they told me they could find the necklaces at other places for just 1,000/=. This is highly unlikely and most probably just dramatic banter in an attempt to get me to hike them to hike down the price. But nonetheless, having to talk them down by 4,000/= shillings is no small feat!
In any case, after a sufficient amount of getting hot and cold and chit-chatting about things completely unrelated to the necklaces I finally got them to agree to 2 necklaces for 5,000. Not bad, right? Wrong. Still not good enough. I was all set to give up as our Land Cruiser started back up and everyone started loading back into the vehicle. At the last minute one of the Masaai decided to drop to 4,000/= for two necklaces! This sounded totally reasonable to me and I mentally decided to commit. But just for kicks I looked at him and said, “3,000/=, that’s it. Good-bye!” I walked away as if I was totally serious (which I was not) and low and behold he made the deal!
I had to ask Victoria to spot me the money since I only had larger bills and felt very guilty asking him for change after pretending as if I didn’t have the money to pay for it. She was still disappointed by the extra 500/= per necklace, but I swear I saw a small smile of pride appear at the corner of her mouth that her mzungu daughter was able to talk her way into Swahili prices. I paid the man the money and was very pleased with the necklaces, but still felt very guilty about ripping him off. I wonder how much they cost him to make…
Part II: Into the Crater
By 10:30 am we were finally beginning our steep decent down into the crater. I had to fight my trigger-happy urges with my camera in the interest of preserving the battery for the things to come, but couldn’t help taking a few pictures of the lush, green plains and the amazing cotton-candy clouds that looked like they came straight out of a Philadelphia cream cheese commercial.
When we reached the bottom we lifted up the roof of our vehicle and stood with our heads peaking out the top, taking it all in. First sighting? Zebras! I swear these guys look like painted horses and couldn’t possibly be born like that. As I snapped about a million pics and short video clips of their grass munching I couldn’t help but wonder if their stripes are like fingerprints and snowflakes or if it's possible to have two-of-a-kind or more.
Temporary Wrap Up:
I have to go eat breakfast now and get ready for today’s adventure. The only animals I haven’t seen of note are giraffes and rhinoceros, so we’re off to try and find at least a giraffe or two today.
My summary notes from yesterday:
- It’s the rainy season, so the safari is apparently not as cool as it has the potential of being. This means my host family was a little less than impressed, but I made up for it with my extaticness.
- The driver seemed to be in some sort of rush and had a big case of the impatients. I tried my best to snap bumpy pics and videos when he wouldn't stop and usually only had time just for a shot or two if he did. It was a bit of a bummer because I saw most of the wildlife through the lens of my digital camera, hoping that I’d be able to appreciate it more when I uploaded them onto my computer…..that turned out to be a good call.
- Baboon butts, elephant graveyards, and gazelles teasing lions……that’s it for now….
Groan.
Alaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh u Akbar!
Double Groan.
Ash-hadu al-la Ilaha ill Allah
What time is it? Where is my phone?
Ash-hadu al-la Ilaha ill Allah
Seriously?
Ash-hadu anna Muhammadan Rasulullaah
Okay, fine. I’m up. It’s 5:15, but I’m up.
I’m pretty sure this takes place every morning. 5 times a day in fact. But for some reason today is the day it wakes me up like a rooster crowing in my ear. I guess it’s really just bloggers guilt, so I will spend these early hours telling you about my safari yesterday. I just hope that as I am sitting at this restaurant table in the dark, unable to find the light switch, the night guard won’t come try and kill me and I won’t have a heart attack with all these cats crawling around causing mischief. Anyway, back to yesterday...
Part I: Getting Started
We woke up not-so-bright-and-early at 7am and hit the parks by 8:30. The parks open at 6am, but whatever, we’re going to have a full day of it, right? Wrong.
While Victoria and Godfrey have been extremely generous in taking me into their home and making me a part of their family, and while the sun has given me my fair share of burns and darkened my skin a few shades, I have unfortunately not gotten any closer to looking like an African. Not even an albino African. I have done my best to be a chameleon and fit in with things, but there is no denying my mzungu status.
So, while it is very nice that Godfrey insists I am his daughter, there was just about no way the park guards would let me get through by paying the rates of the locals. Were I to have passed the test (and believe me, I had been fully warned to speak only Swahili and to be charming…) the cost of the trip would have been an entrance fee of 10,000 TZ Shillings. Unsurprisingly, however, we had to pay the white-tax of $250 just for having me in the car. (The psychology of listing local prices in shillings and white prices in dollars I found to be very interesting. I’ll let you convert the different prices for yourself. It’s impressive!)
Anyway, we made the bold move of paying for me as a local at the office and then trying to talk our way through the gates. When we were turned away, we not only had fork up the money, but also go to the back of the ever-building line, wasting even more time. I was very entertained by going into the gift shop and walking through the mini museum reading all about the park and its history, but our car just kept getting more impatient imagining the morning prowlers taking refuge out of sight range as the sun got higher.
By 10:00 am we finally made it through the gates and began our journey into Ngorongoro Conservation Area. It’s actually not a national park because people are allowed to live within its borders if they are able to live in harmony with the ecosystem. This really just means that the Masaai tribe and maybe one or two other nomadic groups is free to continue their lifestyle within the park. As we drove up, up, up to the rim of the crater we passed many Masaai herding their cattle and around their unique homes, just going about their lives. We also got to see a chui (leopard) walking along the road but he jumped out of sight before anyone had a chance to snap a pic.
At the top of the crater we stopped for a bathroom break while 3 Masaai men came over to sell me beautiful handcrafted necklaces. Being white, the price for each was 5,000/= (TZ shillings). I really wanted to buy them, but the disgusted reaction of my Swahili family made me feel far too guilty to cave at the apparently egregious price. I decided to get my Swahili on and use my superb language skills and irresistible charm to bring down the price. Yeah right.
To be honest, I’d be happy paying their asking price and supporting local tribes and art and all that other good stuff. My goal was just to get it down to a level that I wouldn’t look like a total fool to my entire family when I agreed to the price. The only problem was that they told me they could find the necklaces at other places for just 1,000/=. This is highly unlikely and most probably just dramatic banter in an attempt to get me to hike them to hike down the price. But nonetheless, having to talk them down by 4,000/= shillings is no small feat!
In any case, after a sufficient amount of getting hot and cold and chit-chatting about things completely unrelated to the necklaces I finally got them to agree to 2 necklaces for 5,000. Not bad, right? Wrong. Still not good enough. I was all set to give up as our Land Cruiser started back up and everyone started loading back into the vehicle. At the last minute one of the Masaai decided to drop to 4,000/= for two necklaces! This sounded totally reasonable to me and I mentally decided to commit. But just for kicks I looked at him and said, “3,000/=, that’s it. Good-bye!” I walked away as if I was totally serious (which I was not) and low and behold he made the deal!
I had to ask Victoria to spot me the money since I only had larger bills and felt very guilty asking him for change after pretending as if I didn’t have the money to pay for it. She was still disappointed by the extra 500/= per necklace, but I swear I saw a small smile of pride appear at the corner of her mouth that her mzungu daughter was able to talk her way into Swahili prices. I paid the man the money and was very pleased with the necklaces, but still felt very guilty about ripping him off. I wonder how much they cost him to make…
Part II: Into the Crater
By 10:30 am we were finally beginning our steep decent down into the crater. I had to fight my trigger-happy urges with my camera in the interest of preserving the battery for the things to come, but couldn’t help taking a few pictures of the lush, green plains and the amazing cotton-candy clouds that looked like they came straight out of a Philadelphia cream cheese commercial.
When we reached the bottom we lifted up the roof of our vehicle and stood with our heads peaking out the top, taking it all in. First sighting? Zebras! I swear these guys look like painted horses and couldn’t possibly be born like that. As I snapped about a million pics and short video clips of their grass munching I couldn’t help but wonder if their stripes are like fingerprints and snowflakes or if it's possible to have two-of-a-kind or more.
Temporary Wrap Up:
I have to go eat breakfast now and get ready for today’s adventure. The only animals I haven’t seen of note are giraffes and rhinoceros, so we’re off to try and find at least a giraffe or two today.
My summary notes from yesterday:
- It’s the rainy season, so the safari is apparently not as cool as it has the potential of being. This means my host family was a little less than impressed, but I made up for it with my extaticness.
- The driver seemed to be in some sort of rush and had a big case of the impatients. I tried my best to snap bumpy pics and videos when he wouldn't stop and usually only had time just for a shot or two if he did. It was a bit of a bummer because I saw most of the wildlife through the lens of my digital camera, hoping that I’d be able to appreciate it more when I uploaded them onto my computer…..that turned out to be a good call.
- Baboon butts, elephant graveyards, and gazelles teasing lions……that’s it for now….
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Sneak Peak!
Check out the slideshow!!
Don't worry....words to follow....and more pics....post-SAFARI!
Don't worry....words to follow....and more pics....post-SAFARI!
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