paragliding!

a trip to the "big city" today with meghan, travis, slater, truck, and julia. Arusha is sort of a big city, at least compared to moshi. in the year they've been here meghan and travis have caught the death-trap bus into arusha several times mostly to eat and paraglide. after work friday we catch the bus, luckily we don't have to stand, head to the "arusha backpackers hotel," and straight to dinner.

after a brisk 5:45am wakeup call (from Juls in the bunk above me), we are quickly headed out to meet our guide Per ("pear"). one look at the piercing blue eyes and shockingly white eyelashes of this incredibly strong Dane, and i could tell he was completely mad. with the scars crisscrossing his arms and legs, he could have walked straight from an action film. throwing naive foreigners off a mountain and hoping they land safe is not his primary job. mostly he runs a safari business dustbusters where he takes naive foreigners off on motorbikes across the world. he has ridden his bike from denmark all the way to south africa.

our morning session was the "learning" part. ha. ha ha. instructions: strap this huge thing on, check your straps, run till you're running on air. for our first session, Par, and his helpers Jengu and Gifti, attached long leads to our front strap and ran ahead of as as "mules" to help drag us up into the air.

there is some expertise involved. you have to run holding the lines in such a way that the air would catch the glider, but in just the right moment you let part of the line go so theat the glider doesn't over take you or crash behind. we mostly listened for the shouting "let go!! let go!! why aren't you letting go?!?!?!

i do have some experience with running down the side of a mountain. this was only mildly more successful. the bushes surrounding us we're quickly deemed "chrisburgers" (chrisburger- one of the pubs in moshi). in fact it took me 4 or 5 hours to get off the ground only twice. the rest of the time filled with slamming my knees, dragging through the underbrush on my side, or the inevitable face smashing bellyflops. to be fair to myself, everyone else (minus travis and meghan, the experts who merely walked around helping the newbees) were only slightly more successful.

after a quick sojourn of peanut butter on bread and some incredibly sour cheese that had to be bagged and hidden lest the look of it poison everyone, we set out to a bigger bit of mountain to really test our skills. to a certain extent, this was actually easier as there was little running before the wind could catch you. it was however, terrifying. well for me who still was completely unable to land in one piece. i never fully graduated to the run yourself off the mountain level, which the boys attempted valiantly, if not quite successfully. i was perfectly happy having crazy Per grab my harness straps and throw me while i ran. even that didn't promise success to any of us.

though i found relaxing just about impossible while soaring in the air, on one flight mount meru emerged from the clouds, leaving me breathless as well. flying with the birds, gliding around...
even "landing" upside down suspended from a small tree was alright that time.

Restituta and Chrisburger

today was Resti's last day working at KIWAKKUKI. she is an amazing women. hard to grasp that we are the same age-a reflection of what i might have been in another time and place, she's my mother's "african daughter." KIWAKKUKI supported her as an orphan, put her through school from primary all the way to get her social work degree. instead of going for a higher paying job, she came back to the organization to help other AIDS orphans.

she was married last christmas and her husband has been living in another town all this time. it doesn't seem fair that he can't move here. when i asked, she looked at me as if i was crazy. Kichaa! (mad)
i'll miss her

karibu

every morning at KIWAKKUKI, the women headed clinic for HIV/AIDS and orphan support, we begin with prayer, song, and announcements. of course it is all in kiswahili so most of it is a blur for me. occasionally i have been asked to read the prayer--in kiswahili. it is always good to provide people with laughter in the morning. my favorite song is "karibu, karibu, tu ne sena..." literally - welcome, welcome, we are saying."

it is sung every time someone comes to visit, returns from a meeting or holiday. it becomes a bit ridiculous--everyone breaking out into it over and over, especially when you have no idea what is going on-who or what we are welcoming.

mmm a delicious "vegi burger" all the fixings of a hamburger, minus the hamburger itself. obviously, why was i surprised?

Maasai

he came running towards us as if we were the most exciting thing he had seen all day- the joy rushing off him in waves, overwhelming. we snatched to capture it.
when he got to us, his smile faded into puzzlement. he didn't know what should come next and neither did we.

Kili kisses the sun

human food, good to know

it took two of us several hours to make zucchini bread from scratch. pole. ("poh-ley" sorry)

to market to market

you don't see a lot of wazungu at the Kibilaroni market. it used to be quite dangerous, packed to the gills with people selling everything from 2nd hand clothing to live chickens. now much of the market has been cleared out and all the used clothing vendors have gone. they've moved to a new area of town, leaving the market for vegetables, spices, and dried samaki-fish. the fish is so smelly. stacks and stacks of dried, fried, and fresh fish of all shapes and sizes. there is the palm sized fried fish, the huge pyramids of snack sized barely bigger than your thumbnail, the nasty curled thing that almost looks like a giant cinnamon bun, and of course the enormous fresh tilapia and king fish glaring at you from their glazed eyes.

the lions, they are hungry

another trip to a swimming hole and the lions have been out.

in the poem of my life, i would sidle up next to the simba- take a communal nap.

this one was probably watching me lazily indifferent from a tree, contemplating my worth.

solastisi

kilimanjaro. beautiful

i'm freezing today. in africa. ha.
but then again, yesterday was the shortest day of the year here--the winter/summer solstice!
it has been cloudy and hazy, though there hasn't been any rain in nearly three weeks. the roads are as dusty as always. my feet are particularly grim as i haven't made it into the shower during the daylight in a while. by the evening we either are in a "brown out" or have no power at all. during a brown out, the voltage goes up and down erratically and lights, especially florescent bulbs flicker on only a few seconds every 5 minutes or so. the bathroom is pitch black by 730pm. we keep a flashlight by the sink and if i aim it just right, i can get it to reflect off the mirror and give me a tad more glow. it's just enough to show me the difference b/t the shampoo and conditioner. yesterday my itchy legs drove me to the razor-light or no light. luckily i managed without any scarring.

maisha misimko na coca cola!

A5 bartlett hotel

looking out at our driveway-house A5

come to africa, fall in love. i dare you not to.

come for too long and you are infected, longing to come back and uncontrollably urging everyone else you know to do the same. a powerful virus...

since we are here, we have convinced my aunts and uncles and cousin to visit us instead of our annual outer bank trip. the first group arrived this week. it is my cousins James and Alex's first trip out of america. a far cry from a leisurely trip to england or france, to the museums and restaurants. the Louvre is amazing, the Vatican worthy of unending examination, i wouldn't have missed Pompeii, while Ramses and the Pyramids still linger in my dreams... but if i could only choose one for my future children -if they may be- i would spend any extra cent to get them to the plains of africa, the lions in the misty mornings, the umbrella trees, and the herd of elephants with their babies towering over your jeep.

dala dala

 

for 250 TS (about .25 US) you can ride in the luxurious public transportation via the "dala dala." these are vans meant to sit anywhere from 12-15 people that literally carry between 20-25 people on a slow day. once 5 or 6 people have crammed in each row, they start filling the aisle, standing, pressed body to body. for a little extra room you might hang your torso out the window while your legs are pinned inside. only a handful of mzungu partake, despite being such an oddity, you may still find yourself holding someone's baby while its mama wedges into an "open" spot. if there seems to be too much breathing room, the driver will pull over and the assistant- that man hanging outside the door as it zooms around- will shout at passers by to get in. at some point a hand appears under your nose full of coins- who it belongs to in the throng is hard to say- and jingles for you to add your fare. for a little extra shilling, the assistant will strap on whatever you want to the van--produce, a mattress, a load of sticks...
there doesn't seem to be any particular map or path they follow, so unless you are particularly adventurous, best to get out whenever the people near you do and hope you can walk to your destination.

from our backyard

so is that a star, satellite, or alien craft approaching the moon?
can you believe i got it with my own camera!?

dirty up at the saloon

or get clean.
i need a haircut, but i'm not sure i am ready for the saloon.




sadly, someone has learned the distinction b/t the salon and the saloon and a number of these signs have been replaced. pole.

caca ~ brother

Tanzanian Ents

Kalulu the Hare

from my english teaching tools:

KALULU AND HYENA AND THE POT OF FAT

Kalulu the Hare and Hyena were friends, and they lived together in the same village.
One day Hare said to Hyena, "Hyena, we are not eating well. We are not eating enough fat. We must eat more fat."
Hyena said, "We have not enough fat to eat."
Hare said, "I know a way of getting fat."
Hyena said, "How will you get fat, Kalulu?"
Kalulu said, "There is a cart which comes along this road, and the men have pots of fat in the cart. I will lie down on the road. The men will see me and they will think that I am dead. They will put me into the cart, meaning to eat me when they get home."

"Yes, yes!" said Hyena, "but how shall we get the fat?"
"I will throw a pot out of the cart on to the road," said Hare.
"Yes, yes!" said Hyena, "that is good!"
Then Hare and Hyena went to a place on the road and Hare lay down on the road. He looked as if he was dead.
Then the cart came along the road. And one of the men in the cart said, "Ho! Ho! Ho! Stop! There is a dead hare lying on the road."
"What will you do with it?" the other man said.
"We will put the hare in the cart," said the man. "We will take the hare home and cook it and eat it."
Then the man took Kalulu and threw him into the cart. The cart went on.

Kalulu looked at all the things in the cart. He found a big pot of fat. He threw the pot out on to the road. The men did not see Hare throw the pot of fat out of the cart. Then Hare jumped out of the cart and the cart went on.
Hyena thought, "I will lie down on the road too. I will get another pot of fat." So Hyena lay down on the road and the cart came along.
"Ho! Ho! Ho! Stop!" cried one of the men. "There is a hyena lying on the road."
"Is it dead?" said the other man in the cart. "Is it really dead?"
"I do not know," said the other man, and he hit Hyena with his big stick.
"Ow! Ow! Ow!" cried Hyena, and he ran away.

Then Hare came, bringing his pot of fat and they sat down to eat the fat.
Now Kalulu did not want Hyena to eat much fat. Kalulu wanted to eat all the fat himself. So he said to Hyena, "Oh, Hyena, if you eat much fat you will be ill."
"No, Kalulu," said Hyena, "I shall not be ill."
And Hare said, "If you go to sleep and when you wake there is fat in your mouth, you are ill. You are ill because you have eaten too much fat."

Then Hyena went to sleep. Kalulu put a big piece of fat in Hyena's mouth.
After some time Hyena woke up. And when he found the big piece of fat in his mouth he said, "I am ill, Kalulu. I am very ill. I will not eat any more fat."
So Kalulu ate all the fat himself. And he laughed --and laughed --and laughed.

TSP Orphanage, Tanzania

if you had never played with blocks, would you know what a triangle is? would you know how to place them side by side rotate them to make a square, a parallelogram? or would the shape hang, a mystery?
yesterday i wouldn't have thought twice. but today, as i watched 9, 10, 11 yr olds puzzle over such "games" i felt a desperate need to... what?
one little boy, as he played each game- copying hand gesture patterns, matching shapes and colors, recalling a list, completing picture patterns- he would look over to me, the slightly exotic white girl in the rural sugar plantation's orphanage, and smile impishly, his eyes twinkling for praise. but then the second half of the test, 3 pages of questions- "do you play well with others? yes, no, sometimes?" ..."do you have friends?"... "do you sleep well?" "do you have bad dreams?"... "do you remember your parents?" ....
the ki swahili would wash over me, a gentle murmur, barely over a whisper. with no idea what question they were on, i watched child after child turn to stone. the eyes of my flirting imp grew vacant, his body a pliant statue, like time itself had grown so slow i couldn't perceive it. and when the first betraying tear welled on his dark lashes, finally spilling down his cheek, the spell remained unbroken.
when we had finished with him, he left without a backward glance. no more smiles or secrets for me. forgotten, as i should be.

i am not hardened for such work.

from moshi to dar

barbecue with kilimanjaro in the distance

where the streets have no name

where the streets have no name

we bought a "map" for lake mnyara. it is a yellow blob with red veins crisscrossing and meandering along-the key claims these to be roads.
in a deceptively dilapidated land cruiser i went with Meghan, Justin, James-med students doing research - and Christine, and David- undergrads- to Maji Moto, a hot spring in the middle of no where. our directions: "turn left off the [paved] road to Arusha onto a dirt road. follow the road for a while till you see a man on a bike. ask him where to go." Meghan drove with a confidence i couldn't have pretended. the "roads" were mere tracks through dust and grass, the deep ditches rattling our brains. how does anyone find their way anywhere or remember where they have been?? at one point our road ended at a river. so we drove through it. we picked the wrong path at times, ending deep in the vast rural lands. finally we came upon a bar-like stand with drinking Masai -a native tribe who still keep the traditional ways. tall and thin in their red robes and large earrings- gathered around. a unique sight indeed. after much confusion and laughter -we were certainly as strange to them- we were on our way again. the children poor out of their homes waving with delight as we pass by: "Allo! Allo! Jambo! Jambo!"

two years ago a crocodile ate a mzungu student at Maji Moto. true. they killed the croc and charged people to view it. the current is fiercely strong beneath the serene surface. i long to explore into the palm covered passages but fear the mambas -'snakes' and the crocs surely hiding there. the water is crystal clear. we throw ourselves through the current stream, letting it whisk us towards the danger zone, laughingly storyboarding our horror movie.

waiting for a morning meeting

i've spent time in too many hospitals in the states. from the benign playing in my mother's offices to the broken arms, surgeries, sickness and the purposefully forgotten trips to deathbeds. hermetically sealed hallways with the faint smell of "clean." the AIDS clinics especially tend to be hidden in hospital depths.

would you recognize KCMC for the major medical research center and hospital that it is? there are ceiling fixtures in most rooms, but only some contain bulbs and even those are never turned on. the light comes in from the windows that line the walls--windows that are always open, screenless... an open air hospital. one of the top malaria centers in the country is here, so we should be alright... the inner halls remain dark, with little sunlight able to filter through.

despite the moist, fragrant air wafting off Kili in the distance, the hospital is meticulously cleaned, the cement floors hand washed every few hours.

tanzania!

today i measured little mtoto (children)s heads, weighed them, and took their heights. we had to track them down at their schools first. just arriving at the school in both a car and with a mzungu (white person) is cause for uproar in the rural area we were at. how anyone finds anything out in the bannana forests is beyond me. there are no street names or signs and you can't see beyond more than a few feet anydirection. the roads are filled with deep crevices--really can't call the monstrosities "potholes"-- and are only wide enough for one car at a time. so when a car comes from the other direction you have to pull up on the side. thank goodness for the driver- hired specifically by Kiwakkuki (the AIDS community site) for driving.

after we found the little girl here at her school we drove through the forest with her to find her home to speak to her mother and measure one of her brothers. she held her little sister with pride, showed me her coo coos (chickens), laughed at my complete lack of swahili (and her lack of english), and held my hand back to the car.