At Home In Usa River

After a harrowing morning at the Amsterdam airport (luggage and check-in difficulties meant that we arrived at the gate five minutes before the scheduled departure - fortunately they held the plane for us) and a nine-hour flight, our intrepid group of twelve arrives at Kilimanjaro airport. ¨Ah, the smell of Africa - burning garbage,¨ says one of the other chaperones, who had visited a number of other times. While we are all impatient to actually experience Tanzania, the first thing we do on arrival is wait in line to be fingerprinted and show our visas. Fortunately, we do not have any international super criminals in the group, so we make it through without incident. Then more waiting to pick up luggage (and report that three of the bags were MIA, though they do show up later in the trip).

Finally, Sharon, one of the other chaperones, gathers us up saying, ¨there are some people who are very anxious to meet you.¨  Outside there is a large group of faculty (and friends of Sharon's from a previous journey) to greet us, presenting each of us with two roses and placing a homemade lei around our necks. Our new friends commandeer our luggage, despite our best efforts to hold on to it, pray a prayer of thanks and climb into the van to join us on the forty minute ride to the guest house.

We are quiet on the ride, trying to take it all in despite the darkness - looking at the signs in Swahili, businesses and vegetation. Close to the airport the roads are paved, but as we approach our destination we switch over to dirt roads. The guest house is gated and the narrow angle always requires some negotiation on the part of our driver and the guard (we make it through only once in our stay on the first approach).

At our new home, we are met by group of students with closely shorn heads (boys and girls both) and navy uniforms. We gather on the porch as they sing and dance, ¨hey, hey visitors. We like to welcome you, we like to welcome you to our special school, to our school¨, and subsequent verses about working, learning and helping each other. I have never felt so welcomed in my entire life.

The students and teachers disperse, with promises to meet again at the school the next day, and we begin the process of settling in. Mama Kiara, who runs the Meru Diocese Guest House (but also has other diocese duties) greets us with a light meal of cucumber soup, bread and baobab flower juice (apparently the baobab only flowers at night). We divide into our respective rooms. The students, including our recent college graduate, are in a more hostel-style building, with bunks. The chaperones are in the main building. Sharon and I share a room, while Tim is solo.

Each bed has a mosquito net that we learn to tuck in between the mattress and bed frame. While it is not mosquito season, each building seems to have a pesky one or two stragglers buzzing around. Above the bathroom light switch is a switch for the hot water heater, which we only turn on 15-20 minutes before shower time. Sharon, Tim and I regularly have hot showers. The other nine members of our group, who share a hot water heater with the only other visitor at the guest house, are not usually quite so lucky (unless they are first in line). After returning home, one of the guys, not used to sharing a bathroom with seven young women lamented, ¨so much hair!¨

Mama Kiara is an older woman, who was brought back from retirement for her current job. She has a beautiful smile and warm demeanor as she announces, ¨karibu, you are welcome.¨ Her hair falls a few inches below her shoulders and is always braided and covered with an African print kerchief. Over the course of our two week stay, she makes this place feel like home, to the extent that after two nights away for safari, most of our group announces at various times, ¨I miss Mama Kiara. It will be nice to go home,¨ meaning the guest house - not our Seattle homes.

Typical scene during downtime at the guest house - cards, books and music

Mama Kiara carefully plans out each meal to try to avoid waste and will add leftover vegetables from dinner to the pancake batter the next day, a savory combination that I enjoy, but most of the teens find to be strange. After first helpings, she also circles the table, either asking us if we would like more or discreetly adding food to our plates before we can object (we ate a lot under her care and not wanting to offend her or disappoint her, I ended up with seconds or thirds a number of times). Before each meal, she announces, ¨let us pray¨ and then either leads the group in a prayer in Swahili or directs to one of the group, ¨you will pray¨. She's very soft-spoken, so sometimes we need to shush or nudge one another when she announces prayer time.

Each breakfast includes a freshly blended fruit juice, while each lunch or dinner includes a freshly made vegetable soup - her favorite is cucumber soup, but we also have tomato, potato, pumpkin and carrot throughout our stay. Our meals include Western-inspired items, like French Toast, scrambled eggs, or spaghetti, but also ugali and chapati, along with a delicious sauce, which is to become of favorite of our group (and does not resemble Indian chapati in the least). Breakfast includes tea or Africafe, the local instant coffee, with hot milk. At lunch or dinner, she circles the interior of the tables arranged in u-shape to get our soda requests. While most of us are converted to Tangawizi, Coke's ginger beer, which sadly is not available in the U.S., we also have a large Fanta-contingent. Each meal is followed up by a fruit course - mangoes, super-cute tiny bananas, pineapple or watermelon - and we eat plenty of vegetables - a particular favorite is the avocado served with red onions and vinegar.

After dinner each night, we gather as a group to work on a reflection sheet with highlights and impressions of the day. Sometimes we get a bit off topic or minds wander, but it also leads to discussions about how we've changed as a result of what we've experienced together. One night's conversation covers the impact of the used clothing market, while another concerns feelings of guilt at expecting our lives to be changed by experiencing life in a country with lower relative income - is it voyeuristic? Are we taking advantage? Jumping off points on the reflection sheet include: impressions, culture insights, high points, challenges, ¨I laughed when...¨, ¨I see God's work in...¨ and ¨I hope I never forget¨.

While the one other visitor at the house dines with us, he does not typically stay for the entire reflection, though in our discussion of guilt, he offers up that the local families are healthy and happy and not to be pitied. Dr. Jim (the Nobel Peace Prize winner for his work on landmines) is an orthopedic surgeon operating at the local hospital. On his last evening with us, he offers to show a Power Point presentation (previously given at Geneva for the U.N.) about landmines, the Red Cross and Doctors without Borders. This turns out to be fascinating.

Our neighborhood is surrounded by cows and chickens, maize crops and tons and tons of children. When our bus gets a few blocks away from the guest house, the yelling and waving begins and the kids run after our vehicle. ¨Be careful,¨ we wince. There is usually an hour or so after our return before dinner begins. Often, this time is spent either playing soccer or Frisbee with the neighborhood kids (or for our introverts, who are beginning to miss privacy and time alone to decompress, reading and writing).

One little one follows us home...

The power goes out nearly every single day. While there is a gasoline-powered generator, Mama Kiara typically only runs it until shortly after she leaves for the day, which means that often at 8 p.m. it is pitch dark (sunrise and sunset are both at about 6:40). While we have small solar powered lights at our disposal, on these nights, we often go to bed early. Electric light at 9 or 10 p.m. becomes a luxury that we seize to stay up ¨late¨.

Another luxury - washing machines. While the kindly Ailanga School Project Board back in Seattle has purchased a washing machine for Mama Kiara, unfortunately the guest house is not set-up yet in manner where it can be hooked up (not sure if it is the water or the power that is the problem...). All washing is done by hand in buckets in the yard and hung to dry.

Laundry day

Our last tea with Mama Kiara, Rebecca, our driver and the guard results in a few tears. This time Sharon, Tim and I serve the table. I enjoy emulating Mama Kiara's hospitality - saying ¨karibu¨, distributing Tangawizi and trying to get someone to take the last roll.

Now that I'm at my Seattle home, I miss her sweetness, as well as the fellowship of our group meals. Somehow, eating with just two people at the dinner table seems empty, though I enjoy seeing Trent again.

Still to come: school life and safari.

Thursday Thought

¨You carry the seeds of learning....In order for it [the environment, endangered species] to survive, it needs me and you.¨

Mama Maggie Duncan Simbeye, Founder of Dare Women's Foundation and Awesome Safari Guide

¨People are happy, people are good. Life goes on...Life is all about happiness. It doesn't mean you have a lot.¨

Mama Maggie

¨I hope I never forget... Mama Maggie¨

group reflection sheet from our time at Ailanga, a sentiment repeated over multiple days by nearly the entire group

¨I hear that Maggie is really good. She was the guide for my sister and dad's safari and they said if she's the guide to make sure you're in her vehicle,¨ Julia, the recent college graduate on the journey shared quietly. When the time came to divide up into the two safari vehicles, she, along with three of the girls and I bolted to the line for Maggie's.

As we began the two hour drive from Usa River to Tarangire National Park, we learned more about Maggie's life - her commitment both to conservation and to women's issues and she urged us not to let our new knowledge end silently with us. Her call to action - carry the seeds of knowledge to our friends and family at home.

She shared facts about some of the most commonly poached animals: antelope, rhino, elephant, zebra and giraffe. Often when poachers take an elephant, they kill the largest, which is usually the matriarch of the family, leaving the others at a loss and making it more difficult for the young animals to learn what they need to be a part of the family. She showed us the broken land on the way to the park, barren without the trees that once lined the road - five minutes to cut down and then gone for a lifetime. She told a folk tale of the baobab tree, how the reason it looks as though it is upside down is that God threw it that way because of his anger at the baobab's conceit (but that since then, the tree has shown itself to be resilient and helpful to people and animals).

Maggie herself is an inspiration. She is one of five female safari guides in Tanzania. She is fierce and seemingly fearless. One of her stories features herself as a young student, who disobeys her teacher's orders to stand up because she is menstruating and afraid to do so because her underpants might leak (a common problem in a country with low access to pads and tampons, leading some girls to skip school altogether). He beat her and she still carries the scars today - but when she went to the school office to stand up against this, she told them she would not tell her father (an important political figure in the town) if they agreed to make sure no girl had to undergo the same pain and humiliation. ¨We need one person to stand. Complaining doesn't help. One person needs to stand.¨ And her stand continues today, through the work of her non-profit foundation which teaches women how to make their own reusable, leak-proof sanitary pads.

After that first ride with Maggie, I moved to the other driver's vehicle (Alex, a strong, silent Masaai who worked diligently to position our vehicle in the best spot for wildlife viewing), to give the others a chance to learn and grow from Maggie. I missed Maggie, but will try to take what I've learned from her and share it with the world. 

Nitakumbuka Maggie (translation of my probably poor Swahili grammar - I will miss or I will remember Maggie).

Tanzania Trip FAQ

Argh! I took my last malaria pill last night and there is still so much that I'd like to share about my trip. Before I get too far into depicting the scenes of our daily life, let me share answers to some of the most frequently asked questions from friends and family.

Q: You were working with a school, right? Did you work on any construction projects while you were there?

A: Nope, our partners have made it clear that having interactions and building relationships, while sending funds is of more use to them. In fact, the one prior group wanted to help plant trees. They arrived to find holes pre-dug for them. Plus, you don't really want me leading a building project! We also each brought a second suitcase, filled with donated items for the school, a nearby orphanage and the hospital (a big shout out to Aubrey, Ashley and Colleen for the wonderful items for the orphanage - they were much appreciated!)

Q: So if it was a trip with your church, were you ¨missionaries¨?

A: Okay, so no one has really asked this question, but I just feel people thinking it. We were guests of the Lutheran Church of Tanzania. If anything, they tried to win us over to some of their more conservative ways of thinking. Really, the trip was about fellowship and learning about each other more than anything else.

Q: Well if you didn't build anything and you didn't try to convert anyone, what did you do?

A: So many things - we attended classes and assemblies with the students. Our students played sports with them, including netball, which our girls decided should be brought back to America. We went on safari at Arusha National Park, Tarangire, and Ngorogoro Crater (and saw tons of animals). We visited some of the other social services of the Meru Diocese, including a rehab center, a coffee farm, an after-school program for the poorest youth, an orphanage and a hospital.

Q: Who is we? Trent was with you, right?

A: We is three chaperones, eight 16 and 17-year-olds (6 girls, 2 boys; three 17 year-olds and five 16 year-olds) and a recent college graduate who sometimes counted as a student and sometimes as an adult, depending on the situation. We came from the four churches that make up the Ailanga School Project plus two additional churches. Trent did not come along, mostly because I was pretty sure that he would not be very excited about chaperoning a trip for a church which he does not attend. One of our friends did try to convince him to plan a side trip to Mt. Kilimanjaro for the time that I'd be gone, suggesting that he surprise me by being at the airport or the market when I was scheduled to be there.

Q: Did you have any difficulties with the kids (e.g. problems with alcohol)?

A: Nah, the combination of having a great group with us, staying in a guest house that is locked up at night and being completely jet-lagged in Amsterdam took care of that (plus, I am an awesome chaperone!). The most trouble they got in was being told to hush up a couple of nights by the Nobel Peace Prize-winning doctor randomly staying at our guest house.

Q: You must have been boiling hot - what was the weather like?

A: Well, actually the area we visited had temperatures about 65-70 degrees most days. It is their winter time, and they apologized several times (wearing warm scarves and hats) for how cold it was. One day it rained and most of the students bundled up in coats for the outdoor church service. On safari it got a little warmer, but not any hotter than the weather we've had in Seattle this summer.

Q: What were you most struck by?

A: Like I said in my Re-entry post, the sense of hospitality - greeting strangers and genuinely being pleased to meet us. We were met at the airport and dropped off at the airport by a number of teachers and when we first arrived at the guest house some of the students sang and danced a welcome song for us. I can't remember the last time a group of friends or family met me at the airport either coming or going. Plus, even in a small village, people seem to do much more of their living outside of their houses.

Q: Any moments of culture shock?

A: While attending a religion class, the teacher went over one of the test questions: ¨Name two reasons why child sacrifice is practiced in modern-day Tanzania¨. ¨It is very common,¨ he said. Yikes! But I suspect that it is more like the Satanism child sacrifice rumors circulating the U.S. in the 80s than an actual commonplace program.

Q: Did you get sick?

A: A cold circulated through the group, but nothing too terrible. I did have one night where I was sick as a dog, going so far as to take a Cipro - but I suspect it was one thing that I ate in the buffet that no one else did (as I was fine the next morning and no one else had any problems - a good thing, since that occurred the night before exploring Ngorogoro Crater).

Q: Any other difficulties?

A: This was not the trip for a person who likes to be in control and know exactly what to expect. We were constantly surprised by changes in our schedule, miscommunications or differing expectations. That said, some of those oddities led to the most laughter (more on that in a future post).

Q: Was it wonderful? Will you go back?

A: Yes and I'm not sure. I feel like the second time of any new experience is often a let-down. Plus three weeks is a long time to be away from Trent. And yet, it changed my outlook on life - both making me appreciate my own lifestyle and giving me a concrete reminder that you don't need a lot of money to be happy or have ¨enough¨.

Any other questions? Let me know in the comments. And again, I do plan on a few follow-up posts in the next week or so before our Summer South Sound Sailing Adventure.

Listmania - (Tanzania) You Fill Up My Senses

The sounds: chirping, warbling, cooing birds, crowing roosters, the morning call to prayer (which my earplugs generally covered up), ¨karibu - you are welcome¨, ¨habari - how are you?¨, ¨jambo¨, the generator kicking in after one of the daily power outages, Saturday evening pounding bass (along with laughter, hooting and cheering), the snores of my roommate, honking motorcycles, crickets, cascading laughter, roaring car engines, dull rumble of traffic, guest house blender, cameras focusing and snapping, singing

The smells: acrid smoke as plastic and other garbage burns (evident immediately on exiting the plane), eucalyptus (especially when on safari), dust

The sights: roaming chickens, goats, cows, banana trees, maize, dirt roads, kids everywhere!, businesses with names such as ¨Cuting Saloon¨, ¨Ambiance Pub¨, ¨Digital Pub¨, ¨Modern Driving School¨ or ¨I'm a King M'Pesa¨, dala dalas (buses), birds flitting in and out of the open-air auditorium at the school, Mama Kiara's gentle smile, a Maasai boy standing at the shoulder of the road with a chicken on his head

The tastes: freshly made juices (mango, baobab flower, papaya passion, avocado), vegetable soups (potato, tomato, pumpkin, cucumber, carrot), sweet milky chai, Africafe, the tang of Tangawizi (Coca-cola produced ginger beer), crisp & smoky goat, savory pancakes, chapati, ugali, pilau, watermelon, pineapple, mango, tiny bananas, green bananas, tomatoes, the most delicious and ginormous avocados ever (!)

Re-entry

On Thursday afternoon, after approximately one whole day of flights, layovers and airport waiting, I arrived back in Seattle and began the process of conquering jet-lag and becoming reacquainted with day-to-day life. It is both wonderful and strangely disorienting to be home again. No longer do I have to count up a group of 10, 11 or 12 to make sure that no one has been hit by fast-moving bicycles or scooters in Amsterdam or left behind in Tanzania. After weeks of being part of a group, I'm now responsible for only myself - no more reminders to take those malaria meds at breakfast or that, yes, you really do need to take your passport with you. (Actually, with so many of my friends on vacation and Trent off racing today and at work yesterday, the solitude that I so craved has become a bit lonely.)

I've spent quite a bit of time wandering the streets, glad to finally be active after weeks of large meals and few opportunities to exercise. Buildings here are much larger and in a better state of repair, with paved streets and sidewalks, but there seem to be so few people out on our roads and shoulders in comparison with Usa River, which is so much smaller in population. When I do see people, there are certainly folks that acknowledge me with a nod or a ¨hello¨, but not with the frequency of the ¨karibus¨, ¨jambos¨, ¨hello, how are yous¨ or ¨habaris¨ witnessed in Tanzania. Children are much fewer and farther between and the three little boys that I saw leaving QFC, doughnuts in hand, did not yell out ¨mzungu, mzungu, mzungu¨ or grab my hands to walk home with me (granted, I didn't have any teenagers with me, but I doubt the situation would have been any different in any case).

I'm still not quite ready to let go of the trip or the different way I look at my home city now that I've returned. So look forward to some more detailed posts of my time away. And as much as possible, I want to be as welcoming as the Tanzanians - to extend the sense of community that I believe so strongly in. I have fallen a bit in love with Tanzanian culture, my own life at home and the group of crazy young people that I traveled with - that boundless energy, followed by exhaustion before the second wind, the possibilities in life so tantalizing and unknown (yes, I know that is an idealization, as probably each of them individually drove me crazy during the trip itself).