As I was saying...
Mama Andi and Baba Andi arrived in Tanzania late Sunday night, June 19. I had expected to head to the village as always on Monday morning, so I left them an envelope full of goodies at their hotel reception desk, including a Swahili phrase book, a local cell phone, a map of Arusha, and some snacks for their late night arrival. As it happened, Monday morning I woke up feeling quite ill, and my churning tummy told me to stay home. Lucky Mom and Dad! By the early afternoon I was able to muster up the strength to stop by their hotel to catch up a bit and take them to lunch. I took them to my favorite restaurant Mapinduzi, where I absent-mindedly ordered 3 plates of food (forgetting the state of my stomach). One of the reasons I love that restaurant is not only because the goat is delightful, but they really take care of you by bringing plate after plate of delicious food, even if you didn't order it. I surely shamed my family by leaving an absurd amount of food on my plate that afternoon, but at least I took care of the avocado juice no problem! Mmm...
Tuesday Mom and Dad took off for their safari, and I spent the rest of the week resting up. By Thursday I was feeling about up to par, and when Baba Karen saw me hanging out in the sitting room that afternoon he said, "You seem bored! I'm going to the fundi, want to go for a walk with me?" (A fundi can be any craftsman, like a blacksmith or a carpenter. In this case, he was going to a tailor.) After leaving the house, we hadn't walked very far along the main road when he told me to hang a left along a small footpath between some houses. Turn after turn, he lead me through an incredibly convoluted path, cutting through shambas (farms), back roads, mud houses and local bars. "It took me 5 times before I could remember this way!" he told me. I was thinking only 5 times was damn impressive! We arrived at the fundi and Baba got his pants hemmed while we waited, cracking jokes about his own short legs all the while. On the way back, he took me to a cool local spot that had an L-shaped pool table! He is a great pool player himself and loves helping me improve my game, so we hung out for quite some time while he bought me sodas and games of pool. I'm telling you... when you've got family like that, recovery from illness is a breeze.
Mom and Dad returned from safari on Friday with incredible stories of all the animals they had seen. We spent Saturday running errands, buying beautiful Tanzanian fabric (called kangas or kitenges), and took a walk through the always chaotic central market. We had dinner that night at Khan's, an auto repair shop by day and incredible barbecue joint by night, for some really tasty chicken and chips, followed by a trip to my favorite bar Empire. Mom and Dad were warmly welcomed by my friends there, surely not just because they bought us all a round of Konyagi! We had a great time chatting and hanging out with the live reggae playing in the background. Sunday we spent the day at my homestay, where Mama Chaulla and Baba Karen gave Mom and Dad a tour of the garden and banana shamba, followed by chai and a nice home-cooked lunch. We got to talking politics and Baba Karen showed us a home video he had of a big demonstration that took place in Arusha only last January. There had been some trouble after the notoriously corrupt CCM party manipulated a voting event to skew the results, and the people responded by taking to the streets! He showed us incredible footage of police brutality and acts of incredible bravery as more and more Chadema supporters (the opposition party) marched together in unity, narrated by Baba's first-hand account of what happened that day. I have the coolest family! That night our neighbor, Mama Felista, cooked us a delicious dinner in honor of my parents' coming in perfect Tanzanian hospitality.
We spent the next week in Zanzibar for a really relaxing holiday. I was reminded of how overwhelming it felt to arrive in Arusha for the first time when we first got to Stonetown. A mess of hustle and bustle, narrow, winding streets, and a whole new culture as Zanzibar is predominantly Muslim. We spent our first night at a very modest hostel in Stonetown where we got to roam the street at night and found a great restaurant with local food, where I finally introduced Mom and Dad to the magic that is the chapati! We spent the rest of our time at a rather posh but absolutely gorgeous hotel with its own private beach, not far from Stonetown but far enough to have some peace from the chaos. We did some of the token tourist activities like visit a spice farm for a tour-- Zanzibar is famous for all the spices they are able to grow, although not one is native to the island. We also got to kayak through mangroves, tour an old slave market (quite upsetting, yet an important piece of history to witness), visit a gorgeous and brightly colored traditional Hindu temple, and the central market. I made a friend at the market that day who suggested we come that night to the Old Fort for grilled street food. We arrived at around 8pm and found an entire block of tables with grills hissing away, full of chicken, beef, lobster, crab, and about a million types of fresh fish... not to mention naan, cassava, sweet potatoes, and the infamous Zanzibar pizza. We cruised the rows of lantern-lit grills and within minutes, our friend from earlier that day ran up to us, "I have been looking for you all night! Come, come, I will show you my table! I know the price that man was going to give you, trust me, mine is better." (And truly, it was) I like to blame it being Dad's birthday for the way we feasted that night, but let's be real... the food was incredible and we are not the type of family to be shy about food. Our buddy found us a nice table and we had a really great night sampling as much freshly grilled food as our tummies could hold. Happy birthday Dad!
As we prepared to leave our hotel Friday morning, we were surprised to see so many staff members with gravely upset faces as we loaded our luggage into the hotel shuttle. When Dad asked our driver, "They seem to have gotten some bad news?" He replied, "Yes, the other shuttle driver Pieus was killed this morning here at the hotel by thieves." He turned to me, knowing that I understood some Swahili and asked, "You know 'panga?'" (Panga means machete!!) Apparently the poor man was around during the early hours of the morning and was killed by some men attempting to steal the hotel's computers. Tragic, to say the least. The entire ride to the airport, our shuttle driver would pass people he knew on the road and call out "Oyo, umesikia?! Pieus amekufa!" (Hey, did you hear? Pieus died!) And then immediately continue driving off. What a way to hear the news... I checked some shocked faces in the rear-view mirror as we drove away. Ouch.
My homeboy and taxi driver extraordinaire, Ezekiel, picked us up from the airport once we arrived again in Arusha, and we made our way to Mom and Dad's hotel. We had a great weekend checking out Snake Park (a kind of zoo where they have a collection of Tanzanian snakes, and also administer anti-venom if you happen to get bit out in the bush), the Maasai craft market, a great hike on Mt. Meru with our buddy Rogers, and of course a few more evenings at Empire Sports Bar where I played my father at pool for the first time! Considering he was a bit rusty and I am still a bit new, we weren't all that impressive to watch... but not bad considering, and we had a blast all the while.
Mom and Dad left Tanzania that Monday, and it was back to work for me. We were assigned to work at Engikaret village, where we were surprised to find a group of wazungu when we arrived! For the first time in my experience, we weren't the only white folks doing NGO work in one village. Interesting! We met a fun group of international volunteers working on water projects in the very water-deprived area. Because of the water scarcity, our agriculture group focused on teaching sack gardens, instead of double-dug garden beds, because they conserve so much water while providing such a high yield in a small space. During one of the trainings that week I was holding a Maasai baby when I felt a sudden warmth in my lap. Oh no... "Anakojoa!" Someone take this baby! I was later told that being peed on by a baby means I will soon become pregnant. Excellent...
I spent the following weekend catching up with friends and a huge amount of laundry, since I had been so busy playing host with my folks the week prior. I know I've said this before, but there is something deeply satisfying about washing clothes by hand, and the moment I filled all of our clothes lines entirely with my clothes was a proud moment indeed! (A sweaty one, too) I got mad props from my family, who likes to cheer me on as I am apparently the first volunteer they've ever had who insisted on doing their own laundry without help. I hustled the pool tables hard that weekend, followed by a marriage proposal of course, and had lots of good times with friends. My fellow volunteer (and Saturday night partner in crime) Kelsey and I had gotten into the habit of spending Sunday mornings at Africafe eating more food you ever thought a couple of girls like us could put away. The waiters got to know us, and began smirking in anticipation as they got out their pad to write down our orders.
We returned to Engikaret the next week where we did early morning chicken vaccinations in addition to our normal trainings. It was the Monday that we arrived when I entered into a serious discussion with fellow volunteers Candace and Nora about footwear that I noticed an interesting white spot on the bottom of my left foot. "WHAT is that...!" I exclaimed, fearing the worst. "It's just a blister," Candace assured me. I wasn't convinced. Once we got situated in our guesthouse I asked Musa to take a look at my foot. He gave it a glance and said, "Ah that's not a funza. ... ... Hm. Let me look at it in the light." My impromptu surgeon then requested tools of a pin and a tweezer; it was time to operate. He dug and he dug, and before long the spot in question broke and tiny eggs spilled out. "I killed it!" Musa yelled. "I thought you said it's not a funza!" I yelled in response. The rest of the project was a clean-up and removal operation, and poor Musa's disgusted face didn't find much sympathy in my continuous laughter. How on earth a mzungu managed to get two funzas (let alone one!) in the course of a couple months, I haven't a clue, but the shock was over-- all I could do was laugh!
Although very dry and dusty, Engikaret is a gorgeous village surrounded by such picturesque desert. I enjoyed spending my afternoons kicking the football around with other volunteers or kids in the village, followed by evening walks through the desert on my own. Our guesthouse was right next to a very tall cell phone tower, which proved to be a huge help as I could wander the desert and not worry about getting lost. Once I became far enough from the village to escape the noises of children playing and fundis working, I would find a place to stand still in silence. Once you are still in a place like the desert, you have a chance to observe all the life that scurries away from trampling feet and loud voices. I watched the rabbits, the birds, the lizards, and all the interesting desert plant life. I had such nice, meditative moments being able to witness such a beautiful ecosystem at work and appreciate everything around me.
And with that my friends, I will quit for now. I promise another blog entry soon to bring you fully up to date! Sending best wishes. Until next time...
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