Since we've returned, many people ask us what the trip highlights were. It's a great question to be honest. The go-to answer is really pretty easy. For both of us, it's the safari like you are in the Lion King, gorilla trekking, etc. For Rob in particular he really loved the Nile. For me in particular, I really loved going back to Ibulanku and reconnecting with dear friends with the most amazing hearts. Seeing the well in Kabira from Racing for Relief was also a big highlight and a beautiful site to see.
For both of us though, the real highlight that is hard to describe, is what you take away from an experience like Africa. God teaches you and humbles you when He guides you into situations like we experienced. Alongside our daily walks, talks and interactions with friends and locals, we were ending our days with a book titled "Love Does". The front cover says "discovering a secretly incredible life in an ordinary world". Bob Goff is the author of this book, and allows the day-to-day to deliver a "whimsical" and meaningful chance to make Faith simple, real and fun.
The book is a breath of fresh air. It's not a how-to or self-help book on how to follow Jesus, but rather many little short stories of Bob's life in which he seized the moment to do what Jesus would do, or what Love would do: to live out a faith-filled life... often a humorous, unpredictable and inspiring life. Bob's short stories make the reader smile, laugh, and really think about how often do I, personally, say YES to love? Yes to Jesus. Yes to risk, chance, others and LIFE? I know often times I do say an absolute yes to Christ, to love, and to others. But how often is it on my own terms? When it's convenient for me. Or when do I say no because I just don't believe 'it' can happen?
After getting about half-way through the book, I'm starting to be incredibly impressed with Bob's all-out responses to life and adventure in 100% loving others, no matter the cost. Literally. No matter the cost. That's the caveat that kept getting to me. It seemed that Bob's wallet was limitless. I'm thinking, of course he can say an enthusiastic YES to love! Why? Because he is crazy rich. So, then I feel my heart getting jealous of his ability to serve others so unswervingly. I'm thinking, well, I'd live and love that extravagantly if I could, right God? I remember falling asleep one night pondering over this question.
The next morning after a lovely crepe breakfast served on our veranda (we were blessed indeed), I headed into the local little town/village to get some bottled water. Our handy water filter had a minor problem, so we decided to not risk getting sick again and were getting bottled water the last few days. Water at our hotel/bungalow was $2,000 TSH a bottle, but in town it was $1,000 TSH a bottle, so worth a little walk. Of note, $2,000 Tanzanian Shillings is just about one dollar.
So, after walking around town and picking up the necessities (mangoes, more mangoes, snickers and a random souvenir or two), I was ready to grab some water. I walked up to this lady's very small and simple shop, where she was selling very few items, one of which was bottled water. I saw she had 6 large bottles all connected, but it looked really heavy. So I decided I'd buy 4 of them, especially considering I only had $5000 shilling. I asked her how much for 4 bottles (to confirm) and she said $4,000 shillings. I only had a $5000 bill, so I asked her if she had change. While she was looking for change, I was absorbing the surroundings.
This lady and her little baby crawling around on the dirt floor were definitely lacking some basic necessities. The baby was very dirty and had the classic distended belly that commonly is a result of lack our nourishment. My mind and heart are telling me that I should let this lady keep the change. So, as I'm processing that, I'm thinking - Bob Goff would do that. Jesus would, too. Love does. And so should I. But then, I'm also thinking "does giving money just reinforce an inferiority complex?"... "my book Helping without Hurting clearly states that giving shouldn't just be handing out money - for many reasons". So amidst my conflicted mind, I decided that my heart was telling me to tell this young woman to keep the change. So I did, with a smile and trying to say hi to her little girl. As I say it, I'm also internally embarrassed of my selfish thoughts along the way.
After I tell her "no worries, please just keep the change", she turned around to grab my water to hand to me. Except she didn't grab 4 of them, she grabbed the 6 pack and handed it to me. I said, "oh goodness, no thank you! It honestly looks really heavy, but thanks so much". I think she had very limited English, but I could see by the look in her eyes and her big, genuine smile, that she was definitely not going to let me not accept her gift. There I stood, amazed at this woman's generosity, as I accepted the 6 bottles of water that I (almost reluctantly) paid $5000 shillings for. This lady had such a pure and giving heart. In front of her stood a "mzungu" who she could presume has plenty of material blessings and cash. There she stood, making her sale for the day... and simultaneously blessing me with showing me what a true servant's heart does. Many africans are always trying to increase prices on mzungus -- and to be honest, I might too if I was them. They make an average of less than a dollar a day in most places, and what we make is insane compared to that. But this woman really showed that Love Does. Jesus teaches us to bless others and to give - even to our last drop. As I was walking away almost moved to tears at what God was teaching me, I was thinking of this verse:
Mark 12:44 - "They all gave out of their wealth, but she, out of her poverty, put in everything -- all she had to live on."
God showed me right there that I don't need to have resources like Bob Goff to serve Him and love others extravagantly. All I have to do is give the Lord and his people more than I have, or think I have, and with that, His love will be known and felt. A simple faith of simply giving LIFE all we have. And when we do that, we really get to experience the whimsical, adventurous, humbling love that Bob Goff describes and that Jesus calls us to. A way to take an ordinary life and ordinary decisions... and turn them into YES, LOVE DOES! Pretty exciting stuff. Thanks God for teaching me that through the lovely woman who I will never forget. I went back every day for the remainder of our trip, and I could never find her again. I think she was an angel teaching me how to love extravagantly.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
zanzibar photos
ferry from dar to zanzibar
pringles - a staple
approaching zanzibar
dinner the first night - lobster!
the outdoor seafood market - foradahni gardens
lots to pick from
zanzibar boats
classic architecture of the island
inside a cathedral designed by the same architect of Notre Dame
narrow alleys
2nd night - beachside to enjoy the soccer players
the lobster that later attacked my body
I loved this building.
... and SICK. drinking oral rehydration salts
matemwe beach - very relaxed and many locals
one of my favorite shots
these women have INCREDIBLE balance
that is probably a sack full of potatoes
our little spot in matemwe
beautiful dows
cows getting a (salty) indian ocean drink
cute little boys
refreshing pool
rob prefers to be upside-down
before I could blink a monkey hopped on me - wanted my hair flower
my new little friend
the jumbo prawns that later got Rob - big time
last shot in matemwe, before rob 'fell ill'
now in nungwi, Rob sick as a dog
Dr. Humberto to the rescue! IM metoclopromide for the nausea and vomitting
valentine's day beach walk
natural lagoon aquarium to raise and release turtles
after we both got sick from seafood, hamburgers for every meal!
valentine's day dinner
verrry soft, white sand
little star fish
some of the only yoga I did in Africa :)
happy in nungwi
last night in africa...
zanzibar sunset
Saturday, February 16, 2013
zanzibar
A 7 hour bus journey from Lushoto brought us to Dar Es Salaam, the capitol of Tanzania. Dar was busy, but unlike Kampala, Uganda, had a fair amount of stop lights, rather than the classic game of chicken at the bazillion chaotic intersections. At the ferry terminal, where we were to pick up our pre-ordered ferry tickets, we somehow were being declined them and our ferry ride because the "system went down". The man apparently handed Rob our money back. Fortunately, Rob fought for us (likely just as hot and frustrated as me), and we were handed our tickets. It felt about 100 degrees that day, so as we ventured towards the ferry, Rob spotted a man pushing around an ice cream cart. He knew this would speak to my heart and knows how to make his wife happy. Ice cream is not a reality in the villages, nor even bigger towns. With that, I picked up a chocolate covered ice cream cone to temporarily mask my thirst but completely fill my sweet tooth. That ice cream cone was symbolic for me... the entrance into the final part of our journey: indulgence. Ice cream, beaches, hot showers and cool pools, variety in food, and relaxation.
The ferry ride across the Indian Ocean to the small island of Zanzibar was pretty quick and easy. We sat towards the top with our pringles and popcorn and enjoyed the breeze and the ocean view. Rob noticed that there were no life-jackets in site. Anywhere. So you just hope that nothing goes wrong or that if it does, we can swim to land before a shark swims to us.
We arrived in Stonetown - the main center of Zanzibar island. This little town has quite the history: it was the primary location for slave export of East Africa during the 1800s, and exported up to 600,000 slaves. It's interesting to be walking about such a gorgeous island that experienced such a dark period of history. The old slave market no longer exists and now has an Anglican church built over that site. There was also an absolutely beautiful Roman Catholic Cathedral that was designed by the same architect as Notre Dame. Zanzibar is fascinating because it's where Africa in every sense of the word collides with the modern world. While the ferry boat dumps off tourists from all over (mostly Europe), the fishermen in African dhows are out in the turquoise waters pulling in their catch for the day: lobster, jumbo (and I mean JUMBO) prawns, kingish, tuna, etc. The town is vastly Muslim, so the women are like walking rainbows of color. Beautiful dresses and headcovers drape over them all, except their feet, usually sparkling with an anklet or two. The many laughing kids, well, mostly boys, run and slap into the waves... and mostly undressed. Swimsuits are definitely optional here for the little fellows. The smells of Stonetown also are colliding forces. The pungent odors of sewage from the abundant poverty clashes with the rich smells of curries, fresh seafood, refreshing spices and sweet fruit.
Speaking of food, there is quite the impressive open air evening market featuring the many fishermans' catch of the day. Foradhani Gardens is the name of the market. We were told by a lady at our hotel to go and "eat to our fullest". So we did. Best lobster of our lives. And for an incredibly good price. We ate and ate and ate. Lobster and a variety of fish, and topped it all of with fresh pineapple. Repeated on the second night. There is more to this story, but I think Rob is addressing it currently in the post prior. Let's just say it was the best and worst lobster of my life....
We then headed to Matemwe beach, on the east cost. Known for being a quiet and chill beach, we thought that would be a good place to start. Despite my 24 hours of torment from the aforementioned lobster, Matemwe was wonderful. The most memorable part of this beach is that during low tide, there are countless (over one hundred) women sitting in the shallow waters harvesting their seaweed. They have little seaweed farms and sit in the bright, hot sun and super salty water for at least 10 hours a day. It's quite amazing to think how their body compensates to handle those conditions. The sun is incredibly intense here... quite close to the equator. If you don't have your sunglasses on and look at the sand, you will be seeing spots for the next 5 minutes. So, these women dot the clear waters, with the men on bikes riding along the beach carrying items to and fro. Rice, pineapples, mangoes, wood, you name it. Definitely a beach experience unlike any other. Plus, there were few tourists, so it really felt like we were experiencing something unique and authentic.
We stayed at a cozy little spot called Sele's Bungalows right on the beach and made some new friends. Mostly we enjoyed relaxing and read at the beach, and even found a lovely little Italian villa that let us use the nice pool if we ordered lunch there. Um... okay! Our main activity we did in Matemwe was head out to Mnemba Atoll for snorkeling Our dhow slooowwwllly motored us out to the island, but it's hard to complain, because the color of the Indian Ocean here is unlike any other ocean I've seen. The deep waters are a very rich, yet transparent, deep blue. One caveat. In Matemwe, I was reading a book involving shark attacks, so to say I was nervous might be an understatement. Especially because the dhow didn't really stop at the island, but more so the middle of the ocean with a view of the island. Probably closer than it seemed, but I was scared. So, Abdalah (our captain) and Joseph (our young snorkeling 'guide') threw in the anchor and spoke their few words of English (snorkle! hakuna matata! no sharks! many fish!). We jumped in to discover what are the biggest schools of fish I have ever seen. Amazing, especially with the sun shining through that water. We snorkeled atop a reef for quite some time, enjoying the big schools of fish. Rob spotted an octopus and even a small ray. I mostly was trying to enjoy the beauty while watching my back for a huge shark that wanted to make me his dinner. Recommendation: do not read the book, Unbroken, during a snorkeling portion of vacation. :) We also saw the most amazing starfish I've ever seen. It was very thick and somebody described it as looking like an ornate Christmas cookie. After about an hour, we called it good, and I hopped into the boat, happy to be alive!
One more Matemwe experience: Rob spotted a young local on his bike cruising down the beach with a vervet monkey balanced on the front handlebars. Awesome. So, we followed this duo into the beach shop where they entered. Turns out this monkey, named "Twenty", is not afraid of people. After asking Rob, "do you think he has any diseases?"... I was debating if I should hold him, Twenty decided on his own he wanted to jump onto my shoulder. He was after the flower on my hair. So, he hung out on my shoulder as he nibbled his little snack. Pretty fun and unexpected. I know Big Tone would have loved seeing that (love you, Dad!).
One more Matemwe experience: Rob spotted a young local on his bike cruising down the beach with a vervet monkey balanced on the front handlebars. Awesome. So, we followed this duo into the beach shop where they entered. Turns out this monkey, named "Twenty", is not afraid of people. After asking Rob, "do you think he has any diseases?"... I was debating if I should hold him, Twenty decided on his own he wanted to jump onto my shoulder. He was after the flower on my hair. So, he hung out on my shoulder as he nibbled his little snack. Pretty fun and unexpected. I know Big Tone would have loved seeing that (love you, Dad!).
After Matemwe, we headed to Nungwi Beach, on the northern tip of the island. Nungwi is known as being a little more touristy, but this is likely because the beach here is stunning. There aren't seaweed farms here, but there are countless dhows. The beach walks are perfect because despite the heat, there is always a strong breeze. There is also an aquarium set around a natural lagoon where we got to feed and learn about the two primary sea turtles here - green sea turtles and the hawksbill sea turtles. Some grow up to 150 - 300 kg. Not kidding! Our daily routine here is this: breakfast served to us on our veranda, pool time, beach walk, lunch along the way, pool time, shower, beach-side dinner underneath sparkling white twinkle lights and very vibrant stars. We also enjoyed a massage on Valentine's day underneath a lovely tree by the beach. Let's just say we are feeling incredibly blessed.
One humorous thing that has been noted on at the beach seemingly countless times is the men making comments about Rob. ..."You exercise, man?" "You like to gymming?" "Physical fitness man!" "You play rugby?" "Muscles!" It's quite funny. Rob is quite the contrast to the Maasai men you see here or really any locals for that matter. Plus, European men seem to have a smaller build. Rob is always humble, but it always gives me a good laugh.
This adventure has been such a blessing in countless ways. In addition to the countless unforgettable experiences, cultures and people, we also have read many books - 3 of which are utterly inspiring: Unbroken, Same Kind of Different as Me, and Love Does. I recommend everybody who can read to get a hold of those books! If you want to read one or all of them, I will literally buy them for you and ship them directly from Amazon to your house. Rob reads one chapter of Love Does to me at night, and it's such a good end to the day. Plus, it sparks encouraging and challenging conversation, and allows God to talk to us in a new way. We also have had more time to read our Bibles and discuss how we respond to God's love, and we hope to continue this trend even when home. God has been with us the entire journey and definitely carried us through the potentially scary or shotty experiences. I know He watches over us, and even that little guardian angel Mom instructed to protect us. :)
We have taken many photos on a nice camera, thanks to Alec, but can't upload them here. We tried to upload some from our iphone but still it got backlogged. With that, we will add some images when we get home. So, that's our story and we are sticking to it! We are signing off of blogging so that for our final day at the beach tomorrow we can have a plan-free day. Then we will fly half-way around the globe to our home sweet home.
Sending love from across the world,
Meg and Rob
One humorous thing that has been noted on at the beach seemingly countless times is the men making comments about Rob. ..."You exercise, man?" "You like to gymming?" "Physical fitness man!" "You play rugby?" "Muscles!" It's quite funny. Rob is quite the contrast to the Maasai men you see here or really any locals for that matter. Plus, European men seem to have a smaller build. Rob is always humble, but it always gives me a good laugh.
This adventure has been such a blessing in countless ways. In addition to the countless unforgettable experiences, cultures and people, we also have read many books - 3 of which are utterly inspiring: Unbroken, Same Kind of Different as Me, and Love Does. I recommend everybody who can read to get a hold of those books! If you want to read one or all of them, I will literally buy them for you and ship them directly from Amazon to your house. Rob reads one chapter of Love Does to me at night, and it's such a good end to the day. Plus, it sparks encouraging and challenging conversation, and allows God to talk to us in a new way. We also have had more time to read our Bibles and discuss how we respond to God's love, and we hope to continue this trend even when home. God has been with us the entire journey and definitely carried us through the potentially scary or shotty experiences. I know He watches over us, and even that little guardian angel Mom instructed to protect us. :)
We have taken many photos on a nice camera, thanks to Alec, but can't upload them here. We tried to upload some from our iphone but still it got backlogged. With that, we will add some images when we get home. So, that's our story and we are sticking to it! We are signing off of blogging so that for our final day at the beach tomorrow we can have a plan-free day. Then we will fly half-way around the globe to our home sweet home.
Sending love from across the world,
Meg and Rob
african experiences
Wow looking back after having been here for nearly a month I realize I have seen so many things as well as experienced plenty too. Some things that shocked me at the beginning now seem mundane while others still strike a cord.
Initially setting foot over here and experiencing just the first couple days I was a bit hesitant, shocked and wondering to myself how I had signed up to be here for a month. Having went straight to the bush and stayed in a small village where you are always the only mzungu (which turned out to be us for the first half of our trip), where everyone enjoys yelling it to let you know, just in case you forgot, your skin wasn't dark like everyone else. There were many things I learned early on that were a little challenging and temporarily uncomfortable about being here. Needless to say, looking back, I think fondly of the whole experience and truly believe the profound impact it has had will be lasting.
One thing that never ceases to amaze me over here is the transportation. Having taken about 48 hours of travel to get here with the longest flight maybe being 12ish hours, I thought that was going to feel like the long haul. Well I was mistaken. Public transit over here can feel like a lifetime, and thankfully I have had numerous books along the way to pass the time. When someone says "it is not far" in Africa, that can mean a 2 hour walk. Maybe this just speaks to their optimism. Our trip to Lushoto was 6 hours according to our friend here and well beyond 8 hours later, we arrived. This was not before we had to stop and take off the rear dually in order to replace some brakes that I had been smelling since we left the taxi park at 6:30. Mind you the taxi park is at the top of a mountain range sitting at 1500 meters in elevation. Glad the breaks held out as long as they did, because coasting down that would have been a death sentence.
These buses are not made for normal size people. I am not tall and walking up the steps I hit my head on the ceiling to my surprise. Then I noticed halfway through the trip my knees were rubbed to the point that one was on the verge of bleeding. Sitting up straight your knees would be jammed into the seat in front of you. You may be thinking, "Rob don't be dumb - just straighten your legs a bit under the seat in front of you". A great idea for about 30 seconds because this is the maximum time allotted to you from the bus driver before he dominates or gets dominated (I'm not sure which) by another huge pothole. So back to the knees. They work as a sort of seat belt and keep you semi sitting and in place for the ride. A free travelers tip: when you have the choice, sit in the front of the bus. Early on I noticed the back was always the last to fill up and it wasn't the cool kids seats like in grade school. I am convinced that after a trip the bus drivers all gather around and brag about how many people's heads made contact with the ceiling. This was what I assume to be their strategy: slow down for the speed bump, slowly go over the speed bump for themselves, drop the hammer and accelerate to the next speed bump. This was on repeat everywhere you go and exactly why you do not want to sit in the back. My hind end left the seat countless times because just in case people didn't want to drive slow in Africa to dodge the potholes, they decided to put in monster speed bumps. The speed mountains are the predecessor to the stop light, but I don't think it makes a very big impact on the drivers. They seem to think the harder they hit them that over time they might go away. One such speed mountain provided a favorite travel moment for me. I am sitting on the aisle having graciously given Meg the window for the breeze, but the window has its definite drawbacks as well. Our dare devil driver must have decided to go for broke on this upcoming mountain because I felt the usual acceleration and then BAM! We are flying in the air, butts connected to nothing. Mind you Meg and I had both our backpacks in our laps during this trip and all of us, and the bags, were airborne. I am sure the driver was gasping for air from laughing so hard up front. To my left is a mother with her roughly 6 month old who at the moment in time was occupying the seat next to her, dead asleep. As I go airborne life goes into slow motion I glance left and see flying baby. The mother who was dozing too instantly jerked awake as she was thrown out of her seat as well. Then she made aM epic grab that would have been ESPN top ten no question. I see her eyes lock on the baby, hands shoot out for the ball, I mean for the baby, and then right in the bread basket she reels in the catch. Most remarkable play goes to the baby, though, who never woke up through the whole ordeal! It was truly amazing, but I get the feeling that happens over here daily.
The other small joys of traveling in caravan style like this is when you have to go to the bathroom, it is at the convenience of the driver. The driver can do whatever they want. Sure, let me stop and buy a quick Redbull there or a grilled chicken leg. Anyhow, I am just bitter after having to hold my pee for about 6 hours on the above noted road. I am convinced that can't be healthy.
Coming over here I wanted to fully embrace the food, culture and experience. I feel I have truly done this to the fullest. Some of the experience I maybe wish I could have embraced a little less personally, but you can't win them all. I have thoroughly enjoyed the food here. I have eaten less of it than I would like due to my stomach apparently shrinking having gone long stretches without eating. On one such occasion Meg and I were traveling on a long 8 hour bus ride followed by 2 hour ferry ride. As we were walking down the street to the hotel I felt the hypoglycemic feeling coming on strong. In a matter of seconds, I was soaked to the skin, frantically getting money from Meg to buy chapati from a street vendor, and all the while trying to appear cool and collected. Major fail. By the time we got to our room, I had stuffed most of the chapati down and had to sit down before I fell and I started losing vision like last time this happened. In Lushoto, after a recommendation from our guide Michael we had a great meal. Or at least what I convinced myself was a great meal. Meg asked me what kind of meat it was, and I replied that it was beef. However, it tasted weird and with each additional bite I was less and less convinced. By the end I told myself it was goat since I am less familiar with that taste and didn't want to let my mind wander on what else I could be eating. So yes, it was goat. After that meal I definitely took some garlic pills. Apparently they are supposed to help bind bacteria as your body processes food and pass it through without event.
Well, lets just say we haven't been the greatest or most committed at taking our garlic pills. A positive takeaway though is that Meg and I have a new strategy on how to become great friends with the staff when you first arrive at a hotel. Leaving Stone Town was rough for Meg because she woke up not feeling good at all. Honestly she felt horrible. Bad enough that we opted for a private taxi so she could lay down in the back seat. As it turns out, the night before (and the one before that) we had enjoyed what I easily can say was the best lobster I have ever eaten. It was so delicious and you get it at an outdoor market where locals sell their daily catch (caveat: Meg's might not have been the CURRENT daily catch) and all for a whopping 6,000 Tsh. This is like $3.50 USD. Meg was suffering the consequences of her gastric system being destructed by her unfortunate pick of kebab. We arrived at Sele's Bungalow's, and Meg headed straight for the bed to rest after miraculously traveling the majority of the way there on Paved road and the police waving us through after stopping us, PTL. All the while I was rubbing her arm to hopefully distract her from focusing on her churning stomach and pain. Sele's was great. I made it known that Meg did not feel well and they catered to us like their own kids. Meg finally turned for the better after a couple days and enjoyed some time there. I would soon be glad I was so caring and loving during her temporary torture of hugging porcelain a few times during that stretch.
We then proceeded to Flame Tree Cottages. We had just arrived, I finished my book and immediately felt horrible. Turns out the Jumbo Prawns the night before for the amazing deal of $8 were back. This feeling crept in around 11 AM. I was then confined to the bed and bathroom. My body was in pain. Starting then until around 7:30 that night I made regular and frequent visits from our air conditioned room to the adjoining bathroom that I quickly dubbed the sweat chamber. My body was dominated by those prawns and it was an unpleasant scene to be sure. Meg estimated that between the 7-8 trips I made each time vomiting, among other things, I would vomit on average 10 times a trip. I was left with no fluid. Meg was amazing and each time unless she was out looking to get me help would be there holding the waste basket for me. Nearing the end and when her concern was elevating, I would hold the towel rack and her hand for fear of passing out as the room started to spin. Each time I would be soaked in sweat. Part way through this unhappy place I wondered to myself about my wife. Meg was hit with this in a worse way last time she was here. Dysentery and vomiting to the point of passing out and needing to be hospitalized. In the moment I decided she was crazy to have wanted to return and potentially undergo the same thing again. After deciding her pharmacy know-how and nursing would only do me so much, Meg called in the big guns. Dr. Homberto arrived and gave me 5 cc of some magical potion (Meg called it metoclopramide) in the right butt cheek that made me stop vomiting. I was beyond happy and thankful that I could finally drink something and keep it down. After reflecting and having recovered from that, I still think my wife is a little crazy. This was where our strategy was confirmed on winning over the hotel staff.
Now I sit here having kept down all my meals for a couple days, soaked up some rays and currently am enjoying the last of an epic trip with my Valentine. Traveling is a whole new world of adventure for me to explore and I am thankful to have a partner in crime willing to join me.
Initially setting foot over here and experiencing just the first couple days I was a bit hesitant, shocked and wondering to myself how I had signed up to be here for a month. Having went straight to the bush and stayed in a small village where you are always the only mzungu (which turned out to be us for the first half of our trip), where everyone enjoys yelling it to let you know, just in case you forgot, your skin wasn't dark like everyone else. There were many things I learned early on that were a little challenging and temporarily uncomfortable about being here. Needless to say, looking back, I think fondly of the whole experience and truly believe the profound impact it has had will be lasting.
One thing that never ceases to amaze me over here is the transportation. Having taken about 48 hours of travel to get here with the longest flight maybe being 12ish hours, I thought that was going to feel like the long haul. Well I was mistaken. Public transit over here can feel like a lifetime, and thankfully I have had numerous books along the way to pass the time. When someone says "it is not far" in Africa, that can mean a 2 hour walk. Maybe this just speaks to their optimism. Our trip to Lushoto was 6 hours according to our friend here and well beyond 8 hours later, we arrived. This was not before we had to stop and take off the rear dually in order to replace some brakes that I had been smelling since we left the taxi park at 6:30. Mind you the taxi park is at the top of a mountain range sitting at 1500 meters in elevation. Glad the breaks held out as long as they did, because coasting down that would have been a death sentence.
These buses are not made for normal size people. I am not tall and walking up the steps I hit my head on the ceiling to my surprise. Then I noticed halfway through the trip my knees were rubbed to the point that one was on the verge of bleeding. Sitting up straight your knees would be jammed into the seat in front of you. You may be thinking, "Rob don't be dumb - just straighten your legs a bit under the seat in front of you". A great idea for about 30 seconds because this is the maximum time allotted to you from the bus driver before he dominates or gets dominated (I'm not sure which) by another huge pothole. So back to the knees. They work as a sort of seat belt and keep you semi sitting and in place for the ride. A free travelers tip: when you have the choice, sit in the front of the bus. Early on I noticed the back was always the last to fill up and it wasn't the cool kids seats like in grade school. I am convinced that after a trip the bus drivers all gather around and brag about how many people's heads made contact with the ceiling. This was what I assume to be their strategy: slow down for the speed bump, slowly go over the speed bump for themselves, drop the hammer and accelerate to the next speed bump. This was on repeat everywhere you go and exactly why you do not want to sit in the back. My hind end left the seat countless times because just in case people didn't want to drive slow in Africa to dodge the potholes, they decided to put in monster speed bumps. The speed mountains are the predecessor to the stop light, but I don't think it makes a very big impact on the drivers. They seem to think the harder they hit them that over time they might go away. One such speed mountain provided a favorite travel moment for me. I am sitting on the aisle having graciously given Meg the window for the breeze, but the window has its definite drawbacks as well. Our dare devil driver must have decided to go for broke on this upcoming mountain because I felt the usual acceleration and then BAM! We are flying in the air, butts connected to nothing. Mind you Meg and I had both our backpacks in our laps during this trip and all of us, and the bags, were airborne. I am sure the driver was gasping for air from laughing so hard up front. To my left is a mother with her roughly 6 month old who at the moment in time was occupying the seat next to her, dead asleep. As I go airborne life goes into slow motion I glance left and see flying baby. The mother who was dozing too instantly jerked awake as she was thrown out of her seat as well. Then she made aM epic grab that would have been ESPN top ten no question. I see her eyes lock on the baby, hands shoot out for the ball, I mean for the baby, and then right in the bread basket she reels in the catch. Most remarkable play goes to the baby, though, who never woke up through the whole ordeal! It was truly amazing, but I get the feeling that happens over here daily.
The other small joys of traveling in caravan style like this is when you have to go to the bathroom, it is at the convenience of the driver. The driver can do whatever they want. Sure, let me stop and buy a quick Redbull there or a grilled chicken leg. Anyhow, I am just bitter after having to hold my pee for about 6 hours on the above noted road. I am convinced that can't be healthy.
Coming over here I wanted to fully embrace the food, culture and experience. I feel I have truly done this to the fullest. Some of the experience I maybe wish I could have embraced a little less personally, but you can't win them all. I have thoroughly enjoyed the food here. I have eaten less of it than I would like due to my stomach apparently shrinking having gone long stretches without eating. On one such occasion Meg and I were traveling on a long 8 hour bus ride followed by 2 hour ferry ride. As we were walking down the street to the hotel I felt the hypoglycemic feeling coming on strong. In a matter of seconds, I was soaked to the skin, frantically getting money from Meg to buy chapati from a street vendor, and all the while trying to appear cool and collected. Major fail. By the time we got to our room, I had stuffed most of the chapati down and had to sit down before I fell and I started losing vision like last time this happened. In Lushoto, after a recommendation from our guide Michael we had a great meal. Or at least what I convinced myself was a great meal. Meg asked me what kind of meat it was, and I replied that it was beef. However, it tasted weird and with each additional bite I was less and less convinced. By the end I told myself it was goat since I am less familiar with that taste and didn't want to let my mind wander on what else I could be eating. So yes, it was goat. After that meal I definitely took some garlic pills. Apparently they are supposed to help bind bacteria as your body processes food and pass it through without event.
Well, lets just say we haven't been the greatest or most committed at taking our garlic pills. A positive takeaway though is that Meg and I have a new strategy on how to become great friends with the staff when you first arrive at a hotel. Leaving Stone Town was rough for Meg because she woke up not feeling good at all. Honestly she felt horrible. Bad enough that we opted for a private taxi so she could lay down in the back seat. As it turns out, the night before (and the one before that) we had enjoyed what I easily can say was the best lobster I have ever eaten. It was so delicious and you get it at an outdoor market where locals sell their daily catch (caveat: Meg's might not have been the CURRENT daily catch) and all for a whopping 6,000 Tsh. This is like $3.50 USD. Meg was suffering the consequences of her gastric system being destructed by her unfortunate pick of kebab. We arrived at Sele's Bungalow's, and Meg headed straight for the bed to rest after miraculously traveling the majority of the way there on Paved road and the police waving us through after stopping us, PTL. All the while I was rubbing her arm to hopefully distract her from focusing on her churning stomach and pain. Sele's was great. I made it known that Meg did not feel well and they catered to us like their own kids. Meg finally turned for the better after a couple days and enjoyed some time there. I would soon be glad I was so caring and loving during her temporary torture of hugging porcelain a few times during that stretch.
We then proceeded to Flame Tree Cottages. We had just arrived, I finished my book and immediately felt horrible. Turns out the Jumbo Prawns the night before for the amazing deal of $8 were back. This feeling crept in around 11 AM. I was then confined to the bed and bathroom. My body was in pain. Starting then until around 7:30 that night I made regular and frequent visits from our air conditioned room to the adjoining bathroom that I quickly dubbed the sweat chamber. My body was dominated by those prawns and it was an unpleasant scene to be sure. Meg estimated that between the 7-8 trips I made each time vomiting, among other things, I would vomit on average 10 times a trip. I was left with no fluid. Meg was amazing and each time unless she was out looking to get me help would be there holding the waste basket for me. Nearing the end and when her concern was elevating, I would hold the towel rack and her hand for fear of passing out as the room started to spin. Each time I would be soaked in sweat. Part way through this unhappy place I wondered to myself about my wife. Meg was hit with this in a worse way last time she was here. Dysentery and vomiting to the point of passing out and needing to be hospitalized. In the moment I decided she was crazy to have wanted to return and potentially undergo the same thing again. After deciding her pharmacy know-how and nursing would only do me so much, Meg called in the big guns. Dr. Homberto arrived and gave me 5 cc of some magical potion (Meg called it metoclopramide) in the right butt cheek that made me stop vomiting. I was beyond happy and thankful that I could finally drink something and keep it down. After reflecting and having recovered from that, I still think my wife is a little crazy. This was where our strategy was confirmed on winning over the hotel staff.
Now I sit here having kept down all my meals for a couple days, soaked up some rays and currently am enjoying the last of an epic trip with my Valentine. Traveling is a whole new world of adventure for me to explore and I am thankful to have a partner in crime willing to join me.
Friday, February 15, 2013
the "swiss alps" of africa
Hello friends and family. Rob and I have pulled ourselves from the stunning and brilliant turquoise waters of Nungwi beach in Zanzibar to do some blogging. A fast-working internet is like a gem in the rough in Africa, so we figured we better seize the moment. We know once life starts at home again, these memories will fade a bit, so we are trying to write while the memories are fresh. While not as visually pleasing, it's much easier to keep a diary in a blog than in the old fashioned pen and paper way. And regarding blogging, it turns out Rob has quite the knack for writing. That said, I tend to write about the less adventurous escapades of the Kilcups, that way Rob can share the more intriguing stories...
That said, I'm here to share a little about what a local described as the "swiss alps" of Africa. After 4 days of sitting/standing in a Landcruiser on safari, we were 100% ready to move our bodies (kudos to Rob for not losing his mind... that boy needs to be active!). Our original plan was to head from the Ngorogoro Crater to Mount Kilimanjaro to enjoy a couple day hikes in that region (near a town called Arusha). After saying our farewells to Victor and Juma, we headed east towards Arusha. To get there a quicker (I'm hesitant to use the work 'quick' in a blog about Africa).... okay, let's say... to get there in a less slow fashion, we opted to not take public transport, which stops about every 5 minutes to let passengers on and off. We climbed on into a minivan (with A-C - halleluja!) with a lovely local family and cruised our way towards Kili. Turns out Tanzania must have more $$ to go around than Uganda. The road from safari-land to Kili was paved almost the entire way. I felt as if we were driving on gold. Despite a couple stops from the police (usual... they'll give the driver a ticket willy-nilly; depends on their mood), before we knew it we spotted the monster Kilimanjaro ahead of us. Kilimanjaro is indeed beautiful and very enormous. It's ~ 19,000 feet tall and very green. A different look than Rainier, but awesome none-the-less.
Upon arrival in Arusha, we showered (this is an exciting part of the day after experiencing the dust-storm that Africa can be, unlike at home). I usually wouldn't mention a shower as part of my day at home, but a hot shower here is comparable to me being served a big bowl of ice cream smothered in chocolate sauce. Both invite happiness. To make it even better, we previously had been camping for 4 days with the lions of the serengeti, so warm showers and sparkling clean bodies weren't a reality at that point. All that to say, we were clean and hungry and ready to meet our friend, Rob Frank, in Arusha. He is our friend because we had been emailing with him a couple months prior. He's a guide for Kili and was helping us do some planning. We enjoyed dinner with him at a local street-side Indian restaurant. Correction... by night, a restaurant, and by day, an auto-shop. Talk about maximizing the use of space! He must be a good mechanic because the food was delicious.
After hiking through a couple villages, passing by women carrying enormous loads on their heads or smiling kiddos, we hit the Magamba (or something along those lines?) rainforest. The hiking was steep and the flies were intense. Beautiful but no monkey spottings.
After hiking we had a new friend Michael and a dinner recommendation. He pointed us near the market to where we could find "mama lesha". She would serve us a full meal (meat, veggies, rice, ugali, etc.) for 2,000 shillings. That is just over 1 USD. Not bad. Oh, and Michael might have taught us the only swahili phrase we will remember. "poa kachisy camandisi" (I definitely just botched that spelling), which means "cool and crazy like a banana". So, that's what the young local boys throw out.... and the Kilcups. I guess that means we are poa kachisy camdaisi!
That said, I'm here to share a little about what a local described as the "swiss alps" of Africa. After 4 days of sitting/standing in a Landcruiser on safari, we were 100% ready to move our bodies (kudos to Rob for not losing his mind... that boy needs to be active!). Our original plan was to head from the Ngorogoro Crater to Mount Kilimanjaro to enjoy a couple day hikes in that region (near a town called Arusha). After saying our farewells to Victor and Juma, we headed east towards Arusha. To get there a quicker (I'm hesitant to use the work 'quick' in a blog about Africa).... okay, let's say... to get there in a less slow fashion, we opted to not take public transport, which stops about every 5 minutes to let passengers on and off. We climbed on into a minivan (with A-C - halleluja!) with a lovely local family and cruised our way towards Kili. Turns out Tanzania must have more $$ to go around than Uganda. The road from safari-land to Kili was paved almost the entire way. I felt as if we were driving on gold. Despite a couple stops from the police (usual... they'll give the driver a ticket willy-nilly; depends on their mood), before we knew it we spotted the monster Kilimanjaro ahead of us. Kilimanjaro is indeed beautiful and very enormous. It's ~ 19,000 feet tall and very green. A different look than Rainier, but awesome none-the-less.
Upon arrival in Arusha, we showered (this is an exciting part of the day after experiencing the dust-storm that Africa can be, unlike at home). I usually wouldn't mention a shower as part of my day at home, but a hot shower here is comparable to me being served a big bowl of ice cream smothered in chocolate sauce. Both invite happiness. To make it even better, we previously had been camping for 4 days with the lions of the serengeti, so warm showers and sparkling clean bodies weren't a reality at that point. All that to say, we were clean and hungry and ready to meet our friend, Rob Frank, in Arusha. He is our friend because we had been emailing with him a couple months prior. He's a guide for Kili and was helping us do some planning. We enjoyed dinner with him at a local street-side Indian restaurant. Correction... by night, a restaurant, and by day, an auto-shop. Talk about maximizing the use of space! He must be a good mechanic because the food was delicious.
Rob Frank told us that day hikes around Kili are a little anti-climatic because the views aren't so good when you are on the mountain, which makes sense. So, he told us about what he described as a heavenly little mountain town and promised it wouldn't let us down. Kili-hiking scrapped and we were headed to Lushoto to hike in the Usambara Mountains.
You may be asking, why didn't they summit Kili? Well, friend, it's because it's 5k per person and it would have swallowed an entire week of our trip, not to mention the extra supplies we would have needed in our backpacks. That was enough for us to decide to just hike and be able to enjoy Zanzibar.
Okay, so the next morning, Rob Frank said to be ready at 6 a.m. SHARP so we could go to the public bus station ("taxi-park" = always crazy in every african town). We were waiting for him and right around 6:28 Rob Frank comes running into our hotel lobby. He whisks us into a random car that literally flies to the taxi park. Well, not literally. Anywho, we chase the bus down a couple stops later and before we knew it were on our way on a cramped "6 hour" bus-ride to Lushoto. I could blog for a day just about bus rides in Africa, but I'll save both of our time. I'll keep that topic for Rob. Over 8 hours later, we started climbing up some mountains in our bus... I knew we were getting close. While after what felt like 100 curves and quite the scenic view (when Rob let me look out the window... he didn't want me to see the edge), we arrived in the small village of Lushoto nestled high in the Usambara Mountains. Sigh, we made it. Sweat-drenched clothes and dusty-faced Kilcups exited the bus, fended off the traditional local-plea-for-business, and made our way to our new temporary home. This hotel did offer hot water, except only when you went to tell the manager that the water isn't working. I guess that's a good way to save money.
The next day was our mountain adventure. We had a fun and poa (cool) guide named Michael. The journey started in the village market where we grabbed some bananas and mangoes for the journey We then started climbing up. A couple stops on the start of the hike to admire some chameleons. I even let one crawl on my arm for a bit. I am the daughter of Tony Melchiors, that's for sure.
Some men doing what appeared to be VERY hard work
After hiking through a couple villages, passing by women carrying enormous loads on their heads or smiling kiddos, we hit the Magamba (or something along those lines?) rainforest. The hiking was steep and the flies were intense. Beautiful but no monkey spottings.
It was a quick jaunt through the the dense tropical forest and then popped out into the more open land. Michael continued to share about his life, which includes a 10 - 30 km run every morning in the mountains. Amazing. We then hiked to an awesome view and then onto Irente Farm for lunch. Definite highlight. Incredible food. Fancy wheat bread (that didn't look like cardboard), mangoes, carrots, cucumber, goat cheese, swiss cheese, strawberry jam, another mystery-fruit jam and passion fruit juice. Everything tastes good after hiking, but I for sure felt like I was eating like a queen in a picturesque bungalow nestled in the palm trees of the Usambaras.
First viewpoint: Michael and Rob
On the way up to the viewpoint above
Coming down that ridge to head towards the lunch spot / farm
Made it to Irente farm
Getting served up delicious food. Mango in africa = soooo good!
Fueled up, we headed for Irente viewpoint. Up and up until we were at the top looking out to the Pare Mountain range across the way and across countless mountain villages. Beautiful. Peaceful. Rob played with the edge of the cliff (naturally) and I busted out a yoga pose. After we both met those desires and sat in the beauty in quiet for about a half on hour, we were ready to descend. We wound our way out passing through more and more lovely little villages and people. Kids love their photo taken, so I enjoyed the unforgettable giggles and smiles of the school kids gathering around the digital camera to see their picture. Roundtrip the hike was 18 km and a gorgeous and unique hike. Rob Frank was true to his word; these mountains did seem like the swiss alps of Africa. Except I remember the alps covered in snow :). Ah, snow... what a distant thought. Hard to imagine. I'm inside and dripping sweat. Just typing.
little munchkins
school kiddos
usambara homes
heading up
almost there!
made it!
gotta stretch out after those long bus rides :)
typical (below)
heading back down
coffee
These sunflowers reminded of my dear friend, Maggie,
who I thought about every day during my trip.
passed through many villages
and maize fields
back in lushoto
headed to the market. very fresh and organic!
After hiking we had a new friend Michael and a dinner recommendation. He pointed us near the market to where we could find "mama lesha". She would serve us a full meal (meat, veggies, rice, ugali, etc.) for 2,000 shillings. That is just over 1 USD. Not bad. Oh, and Michael might have taught us the only swahili phrase we will remember. "poa kachisy camandisi" (I definitely just botched that spelling), which means "cool and crazy like a banana". So, that's what the young local boys throw out.... and the Kilcups. I guess that means we are poa kachisy camdaisi!
Well ladies and gentlemen, that officially wraps up part 1 of our trip... the adventurous african life. Next we had the relaxation of Zanzibar to look forward to. First we had to get there, though, which in itself is always an adventure over here...
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