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I can’t sum up my year in Africa. Nor could I bring home all the things that I loved. But here are some of the things I miss, and the memories that make me smile.
1. Buying cheap produce on the street. There’s nothing like leaning out of a bus window and buying an already peeled orange for 15¢.
2. While it can also be frustrating, the “no rush attitude” is precious. Hakuna matata, right? The sense of calm and tranquility in everything ranging from business transactions to daily activities is mind-blowing. But the level of stress associated with this attitude is minimal, and things always work out in the end.
3. The people make do with what they have, and they do so happily. For the things they don’t have, they certainly don’t lack creativity. Want to play a game of soccer and don’t have a soccer ball? Just collect some plastic bags, roll them all up into a ball and tie them with a string. Can’t afford a toy? All you need is four bottle caps (as wheels) and a plastic bottle (as the body of the car) and a stick to pull your new toy car along. My parents will tell you the story about the man in Zanzibar who was using a wheelbarrow with a flat tire but used a string to lift the weight off the tire. You have to admit that they are pretty damn creative.
4. When my family and Elior came to visit, Elior thought he was going to Kenya. Pretty much up until he boarded the flight for Tanzania.
The right clothes for safari. Just the wrong country. No big deal.
5. Tanzanians are huge on greetings and it is rude to ignore this custom. While at first I found it annoying to ask 20 questions when I only wanted to know where something was, the idea sort of grew on me. By the end of the year, not a taxi ride went by without me asking about their house, family, marital status and health of their children.
6. Swahili. It was exhausting for me to speak Swahili, but the response and look on peoples’ faces upon seeing the white girl speak Swahili was priceless. There are some words and aspects I really like about the language too. For example, shikamoo, a greeting used to show respect for your elders. Or pole (polei), a word that literally means sorry and is used for everything from a person tripping or sneezing to a death in the family. Or calling everyone either dada (sister), kaka (brother) or shemegi (in-law) even though you just met.
7. Speaking of Swahili, things often got lost in translation – or so we thought. This story was written so well by Julie that instead of rewriting it, I’m just going to provide the blog link: Funny Hot Dog Story.
8. They sell alcohol in a bag. It is a little 2 oz. packet that is so easy to smuggle into the club. What a smart idea.
Julie and I pouring Konyagi into a coke
9. When I stayed in Tofo, Mozambique I didn’t wear shoes at all. Not to the beach, not to the market and not even to the bar at night. It is such a small beach town and all the roads are made of sand that I didn’t even bother to put on a pair of flip-flops for the week. People who know me well know this is my ideal living situation: no shoes.
10. In the beginning, the rain pounding on a tin roof in the middle of the night would always wake me up. But then I started to like the sound – it was soothing. There was something beautiful about the rains in Africa. Maybe because it meant I was excused from everything. Drainage isn’t up to par, so the roads quickly become rivers. Unless you want to swim to your next destination, you just stay where you are.
11. To continue with the rain theme, when I was a little girl, my sisters and I would float bottle caps in the water on the sides of the road after it had rained. When it rained in Tanzania, it poured. And as the roads turned to rivers, I couldn’t help but think that floating bottle caps as a kid in Tanzania would have been way more fun.
My street after a quick rain
12. The sense of community. I would often see 3-year-olds wandering down the street alone. I thought it was crazy until I realized that everyone in the community was looking out for them. Pretty admirable and respectable, considering I don’t even know my own neighbors. This sense of community is also why group loans in microfinance have been so effective.
13. The lack of confrontation. There’s nothing like seriously bargaining for something while laughing and smiling, even though the likelihood was that I was annoyed and angry for being charged “mzungu prices.”
There’s plenty more, but I’ll leave you with a funny story.
14. One day I was waiting for a dala-dala at Posta, one of the main stops. To get to my apartment from Posta, I had to take two buses, which meant switching and paying twice. There was a direct dala-dala but it didn’t come very often. I decided to wait for the direct bus. When it arrived and started to slow as it neared the stop, I did what I knew all the Tanzanians would do. I ran alongside the bus and started throwing elbows as I pushed and shoved my way onto the bus. I don’t even think the dala-dala ever came to a complete stop as people got off and on. I know, it sounds crazy, but if you don’t go along with it you’re likely to end up face down on the road as you get trampled on. I got a seat by the way, and with traffic the ride took about an hour.
The next day, Rita, the Kiva coordinator at Tujijenge had a funny story to tell me. She was on a dala-dala entering Posta when someone on her bus said, “Look! Even the mzungu (white person) is running and pushing to get on the dala-dala.” As Rita looked out the window to see this spectacle, she realized that “this mzungu” was me. She didn’t understand why I was running for a Posta-Mwenge bus when they come so frequently. But when I explained that it was in fact a Posta-Kawe bus, Rita said, “Oh, good thing you ran, that bus is very rare. Did you get a seat?”
Me painting on Emily's wall in her NYC apartment
Well, I’m back in the US now so I guess this is the end. Thanks to everyone for reading!
I spent the last few months backpacking on my own around East and Southern Africa. While I’ve taken a few other trips this past year, this is a summary of the last two and a half months.
I visited the following countries: Tanzania, Kenya, Uganda, Rwanda, Malawi, Mozambique and South Africa.
Top 5 of my backpacking trip:
- Mt. Kilimanjaro and safari, Tanzania (Kili posts)
- Tofo and whalesharks, Mozambique
- Purim with the Abayudaya Jews, Uganda
- Rafting at the source of the nile in Jinja, Uganda
- The Ilala down Lake Malawi, Malawi
Approximate number of hours I spent on buses: 178 hours or 7.4 days or 10680 minutes. I have a feeling this is largely underestimated because I only added up the long bus rides from one destination to the next but not when I just moved around a place.
Favorite countries: Rwanda and Mozambique
Place I stayed the longest: Tofo, Mozambique
Longest bus ride: Nairobi to Kampala (~14 hours)
Most expensive activity: gorilla trekking in Rwanda
Worst hostel I stayed at: Doogles in Blantyre, Malawi
Best hostel I stayed at: Chimp-trekking lodge in Budongo, Uganda
Best beer: Kilimanjaro (500 ml) made in Tanzania
Only country with no international ATMs: Rwanda
Biggest avocados: Malawi
Country with least infrastructure: Mozambique
Best climate: Rwanda
Longest stretch I went without showering: 3 days
Most vicious mosquitos: Mozambique
Most unreliable guidebook: Lonely Planet
Safest capitol: Kigali, Rwanda
Most memorable meal: Macaroni and cheese (that I made)
In Vilanculos I met a journalist on her first trip to Africa. As travelers usually do, and journalists even more so, she asked me how long I had been in Africa and what I was doing here. I explained that I had been working in microfinance in Tanzania, and now I was just traveling for a few months before heading home. She asked me if the experience was rewarding, and I blurted out that no, it wasn’t rewarding. She and I were both equally surprised by my response. I later thought about why I didn’t find working in microfinance to be rewarding. The truth is, I wasn’t really doing anything special. The concept of microfinance is cool because it is a sustainable method of development where the poor get a chance to help themselves. It isn’t about giving charity, which is not sustainable and likely to make them dependent on aid anyway. These people were finally just getting a chance to make something of their life and business, on their own. And they were doing it in a fair and responsible manner by borrowing money and paying it back in a timely fashion, with interest. Rewarding for me? No. Inspiring for me? Most definitely!
If you also like the idea of microfinance and want to get involved, check out www.kiva.org where you can lend (you’ll get paid back at the end of the loan term) as little as $25 to an entrepreneur in the developing world so he or she can expand his or her business.
In a quick decision just before Risa left, I sent home all of my stuff except for a backpack. Including my laptop, which is why I’m so behind in blogging. I wanted to be mobile in order to travel. Right when I got back from Zanzibar, I packed up all my stuff and said goodbye to Dar, my apartment and friends.
My apartment in Dar
Tuesday morning I took a 10-hour bus ride to Arusha. I spent a day there to attend a Rotary meeting and see John, our safari guide from when my family came to visit. On Thursday I was heading to Kenya. I felt a pang of sadness to be leaving Tanzania after spending the last 8 months here. I would miss the friendly “hellos” from strangers on the street. I would miss speaking Swahili. And I would miss living in a place I had learned to understand and grown to appreciate.
1. They say “Hakuna Matata,” which is actually Swahili but it’s still funny.
2. The water stops running in the middle of your shower. (This only applies if you are lucky enough to have running water).
3. You meet someone with a pet monkey.
4. You spend 10 minutes just with greetings.
5. The children point at you and yell “mzungu” (meaning white-person in Swahili).
6. The dala-dala won’t leave until its full, which means the person on your lap has someone on his or her lap.
7. Half the channels play Bollywood films, which are actually addicting.
8. Cell phone airtime is billed by second.
9. You can pass out at the club and you don’t get kicked out.
10. People order beer warm.
More to come…
Jewish geography at its prime: In early 2008, my sister, Risa, was flying back from Israel. She was talking to the passenger next to her on the flight and somehow mentioned that I would be spending a year in Tanzania. The fellow passenger mentioned that he had some friends that were currently living in Venezuela but would be moving to Dar es Salaam around the same time as me. And better yet, a Jewish family. My sister saw this as a potential family I could spend the holidays with, so she exchanged contact information with the man. A few emails went back and forth but ultimately I never got in touch with this family.
Fast forward to my high holidays with Chabad at the Israeli restaurant in Dar. I’m talking to a woman there and she mentions that she and her family recently moved from Venezuela. It had to be them. An email search confirmed the conviction. Small world!
Knowing I was kosher, the Rabbi gave me a kosher frozen chicken. This woman who moved from Venezuela, Ilana, asked me if I had a grill to cook it on. I told her I definitely didn’t have a grill, and in fact, didn’t even have a place to live. Conveniently, her family was going away on vacation for the week so she offered their house to me and Jeremy, the other homeless Kiva Fellow. So we house-sat for a week. It was glorious to be in a real house with internet and air conditioning. Actually, I was more excited for a Western toilet as the place I was staying the previous two weeks had an Eastern style squat toilet. In Africa, it’s the small things.
“Pole pole” the guide said time and again as we trekked up Mt. Meru. Standing at 4562m (14,967 ft), it is Tanzania’s second highest peak and Africa’s 5th tallest freestanding mountain. Let’s just say it is no anthill. It would take 4 days to climb and the high altitude certainly wouldn’t make it any easier.
Day 1: Climb to Mariakamba Hut at 2500m. We hiked past streams, plains and rolling hills. We saw buffalos, giraffes, zebras and wild pigs. It was perfectly silent less the birds chirping. With our spirits and excitement still high, we arrived at the hut four hours later and just in time to watch the sunset. After a nice dinner, hot cocoa and some cards, we set off to bed in our cozy little hut.
Day 2: An early wakeup to climb to Saddle Hut at 3500m. It was a clear day and we saw some fantastic views, including our ultimate goal, the summit. With a little music to keep us pumped, we made it up the 300+ stairs and reached Saddle Hut by 1pm. The porters and our bags were already there. The porters actually gave us a head start, but passed us along the way with our heavy bags perched up on their heads. Saddle Hut was significantly cooler because of the altitude, but some hot roasted peanuts and hot chocolate warmed us up.
Little Meru: After a few hours rest, we were ready for the trek up Little Meru, standing at 3801m. A practice run for the actual summit, it is a chance to acclimatize and see some nice views. It only took an hour from Saddle Hut and made us all feel pretty confident for the actual summit. We clearly had no idea what we were getting ourselves into.
The Summit: On the way to the summit I wanted to title this blog entry: “This f*#$n sucks, G-d please just kill me now.” Yes, it really was that hard. We started out at 2am, using the light of the full moon and our headlamps. The temperature was below zero and the wind whipped around us. We slowly hiked up a path of gravel, and the loose rocks meant two steps forward and one step back. The view around me was stunning, but the second I lifted my head to look around I felt disoriented and feared falling off the mountain. When it was 5am and we were nearing the summit, the landscape changed to large rocks. It took so much energy to put one foot in front of the other and I was constantly out of breath – effects from the altitude. I was miserable to say the least, and I kept thinking that I couldn’t believe I paid someone to go through this and definitely did not want to climb Kili anymore By 6am the sun rose, and it was a bit warmer. At that point, I could see the summit and it didn’t look far at all, yet it took another hour and a half to reach. When I finally made it, all I wanted to do was sit. I was exhausted and was just praying there was some sort of slide down. Of course there wasn’t. A few pictures and it was time to head back.
Day 3: The descent to Mariakamba Hut. After a 5-hour hike to the summit it was time to turn back. I was definitely dreading it, but what took 5 hours to get up only took 2 hours to get down. It went by quickly, but it was painful on the knees and the front of my toes. The route was slippery with skree (small loose rocks), and at one point I even fell backwards! What amazed me the most was the steepness of the mountain on either side of the path. Seriously, if I had seen what I was doing on the way up, I would have never gone. We scaled rocks with endless drops below, and walked on slippery paths just along the crater rim. I guess that is why they summit in the dark…so people don’t realize what a dangerous excursion they are getting themselves into. I’ve heard mixed statements on how many accidents there have been from people falling off the mountain (a questions I only asked once I had descended safely).
After the two-hour hike back to Saddle Hut, we ate some food and rested a bit before continuing down to Mariakamba Hut. At this point, the 300+ stairs were pretty miserable, and my constant stops from some “stomach problems” didn’t help the situation at all. Possibly from the boiled, but still green stagnant water that I drank on the way to the summit? Let’s just say thank god for ciproflaxin! I was more than happy when we reached Mariakamba Hut (with proper toilets) by 3pm. The rest of the evening was spent conversing with other travelers about the miserable ascent to the summit, the painful descent, and wishing there was a masseuse and some beer for purchase on the mountain. By 9pm we were all ready for bed.
Day 4: Final Descent. Despite a few blisters, very sore legs and pain in the knees, we set out at 8am for the final descent down to Momella Gate. For some crazy reason, we opted for the longer 14km route, mostly to see the famous fig tree. Games like geography kept us entertained for quite a while, and I think we all learned some African geography from our guide. We passed the famous fig tree, which has a large hole in the middle big enough for a car to drive through. Although probably not worth the extra 10km, the hole that was made by elephants is pretty cool. We finished by noon and had a celebratory lunch before heading back to a hotel in Arusha for a much needed shower.
Now that it is over with, time to get pumped for the climb up Kilimanjaro with Risa and Elior in February! Man, what am I getting myself into…
Favorite gear I brought on the mountain: 3 liter camelbak, iPod, sandals for the campsite, headlamp, no sweat hiking socks, quick dry running shirts.
Photos from Mt. Meru trek: http://picasaweb.google.com/jarasmall/MtMeru02?authkey=7eJF7ikz7zc#
Hello Everyone! This blog will be my main source for updates while I am in Tanzania. I will be posting about my work, adventures, experiences and anything else that comes to mind. I will also load pictures onto this blog. I hope that you enjoy it during the year and check back often!
