Day 1:
9 hours on a bus to Dar es Salaam watching TERRIBLE Tanzanian movies.
Day 2:
3 hour ferry to Zanzibar. Fell in love at first sight of the shore. Wandered around the maze that is Stonetown, broke a shoe, drank citrus sugar cane juice while someone repaired it, ate lobster and Zanzibar pizza by twinkling starlight at a posh shore side outdoor market.
Day 3:
Caught in a flash flood while wandering Stonetown. Other shoe broke. Drove to North Coast, watched women with colorfully wrapped heads and bodies fishing thigh deep in the aquamarine waves with pots and nets (in my memory it looks something more like a creative dance they did together in a circle than individual work.)
Day 4:
Rose with the sun and took a long walk “private” beaches. We later learned that we were trespassing on a beach behind the hospital. Hopefully we weren’t exposed to anything too dangerous. Took the ferry back to Dar and got sunburned watching the sailboats on the waves from the deck. Walked around the less-than-inspiring city of Dar in the ridiculous heat and humidity with our luggage. Took a packed mini bus to Bagamoyo. It was incredible, I have never had so little room for an hour and a half ride. Ate the best fish in Tanzania. Woke up that night to sweltering heat and the sound of the generator cutting off and our only fan spinning slowly to a standstill.
Day 5:
Woke up something like 10 pounds lighter due to loss of water weight. Declined the original plan of bicycle tour of Bagamoyo. Went to slavery museums and 13th century mosque ruins. Washed myself in ancient holy water at the promise that I might become the next Obama. Caught in rainstorms riding another packed mini bus. Switched to pikipikis (aka motorbike taxis) to get to our next hotel. Unfortunately, the tires stuck in the mud, and with all my luggage on my back the driver and I slowly tipped over. I decided to walk the rest of the way.
Day 6:
Rose early with the sun again, and attempted to talk to and photograph the fishermen heading to sea in their boats. They said “twende!” and for only the impending plans to travel again that day I declined. Took a daladala back to sweaty Dar. Found myself walking around with my big backpack through cracks between moving buses. Funny the heat from the engines was no different than the surrounding air. Hung out with Alfred’s family. Got a midnight tour of the city, which included where to find American style french fries.
Day 7:
Alfred’s sisters wedding. Quite the opposite of the first wedding we experienced in Tanzania, this one was more formal than prom. A classic black and white color scheme, huge banquet and everyone in beautiful dresses and suits. Though there were several traditions that reminded me I was in Tanzania still, like the cutting of the Tanzanian wedding cake, a roasted goat. Also, the groom and bride were from different tribes, so each tribe was introduced and took turns standing up in the middle of the room to do a traditional tribal dance. Because I was sitting with the Chaga tribe, they made me stand up and dance with them. Everyone thought this was hilarious, as the emcee bellowed, “Welcome white Chaga!” So at the very least I was able to contribute to the black and white theme.
Day 8:
Woke up with a terrible cold but a seven-hour drive ahead of me. We left Dar and sweated all the way north to a town in the mountainous rain forest called Amani, which means peace. Enjoyed a long car ride with Alfred’s cousin by marriage who was from Bandon, Oregon (what a small world). When we arrived we checked for food at at least three different shops in the village but no one was cooking. Finally scrounged up some fry omelettes (chips maii, so good!) and then went on a night hike in search of chameleons.
Day 9:
Got up and threw our stuff in the car. Ate toast and eggs in the middle of nowhere while watching the news about the Italian Prime Minister getting hit in the face. Oh globalization. 7 hour car ride back to Arusha. At about hour 3 we were routinely stopped by police who inquired about my lack of seat belt. The car didn’t have one. The policeman says, “Okay, please pray.”
Monday, December 28, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
My First Thanksgiving Away
It didn’t really hit me how far away from home I was until two days before Thanksgiving. I broke out the mulled spices and I poured my roommates spiced drinks until I’m sure they were fed up with me. We turned on Charlie Brown Christmas and thought about holiday lights and huge turkey dinners.
Thanksgiving morning I received a phone call from my family who had gathered in Salem. What a bittersweet morning! I heard the voices of half of my family members from across the world singing “We’re all together again, we’re here… and who knows when we’ll be all together again, singing we’re all together again we’re here!” I found myself singing this song the rest of the day, and it reminded me how far I was from where I came from.
And yet, it reminded me also how lucky I am to be able to explore the world so far away from home. In order to celebrate Thanksgiving, the 6 girls in my house organized a proper feast: we gathered all our favorite people in Arusha at the Chinese restaurant next door. It was a diplomatic affair as we had representatives from Sudan, Tunisia, India, Tanzania and Benin to experience the wonders of the Thanksgiving tradition.
I must say it was the least politically correct Thanksgiving dinner I have ever experienced. Topics of conversation included how many turkeys America had consumed for the day, the animosity between pilgrims and “Indians”, and various other stereotypical and potentially derogatory assumptions about people groups and their traditions.
The next day, instead of battling the insanity of black Friday at home, we left early in the morning on safari in an ancient caldera. We saw lions, rhinos, elephants, giraffes, hyenas, ostriches, zebras, gazelles, buffalo, baboons, hippos, and the like in their element. Maybe a similar experience to those of you who went shopping? :0)
Thanksgiving morning I received a phone call from my family who had gathered in Salem. What a bittersweet morning! I heard the voices of half of my family members from across the world singing “We’re all together again, we’re here… and who knows when we’ll be all together again, singing we’re all together again we’re here!” I found myself singing this song the rest of the day, and it reminded me how far I was from where I came from.
And yet, it reminded me also how lucky I am to be able to explore the world so far away from home. In order to celebrate Thanksgiving, the 6 girls in my house organized a proper feast: we gathered all our favorite people in Arusha at the Chinese restaurant next door. It was a diplomatic affair as we had representatives from Sudan, Tunisia, India, Tanzania and Benin to experience the wonders of the Thanksgiving tradition.
I must say it was the least politically correct Thanksgiving dinner I have ever experienced. Topics of conversation included how many turkeys America had consumed for the day, the animosity between pilgrims and “Indians”, and various other stereotypical and potentially derogatory assumptions about people groups and their traditions.
The next day, instead of battling the insanity of black Friday at home, we left early in the morning on safari in an ancient caldera. We saw lions, rhinos, elephants, giraffes, hyenas, ostriches, zebras, gazelles, buffalo, baboons, hippos, and the like in their element. Maybe a similar experience to those of you who went shopping? :0)
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