Christian Louboutin

So I spent the weekend with Gatto in Los Angeles and believe it or not I actually missed Morogoro. I was hanging out at a music producer's (of the likes of Kenny G, Mariah Carey, Leona Lewis) house. His girlfriend was everything you think of when you think of LA. I calculated it when I got back (because I'm just that cool) from their house on Sunday and her Christian Louboutin--$700 heels wore by the stars--collection would provide bed-nets for the entire Morogoro region.

Malaria Scare!

Sweat. Chill. Sweat. Sweat some more. Sweat for no apparent reason. Chill. This was my Thursday.
After frustrated phone calls to my parents, I spoke with the Professor. Apparently, he too had malaria. He was surprising calm about the situation. If my "American daughter"--this is my nickname--were exhibiting the typical malaria symptoms I would have found it a little more pressing. Little Mango and I splurged and took a taxi to the hospital, a whole 3,000 TSh! One of the nurses promptly pricked my finger and drew a small blood sample.

Immediately the lab technicians made a thick and thin blood smear. The process I've watched them complete on a daily basis was now unsettlingly personal. Doubtful that it was actually malaria (I've been diligent in taking my doxycycline and using my bed net), I was nonetheless relieved not to have parasites. My blood counts were all normal too.

Phew! I would have had myself airlifted home if I had malaria. Would they let me back in?

School Days

The D Family joined us for the usual Friday night Dragonaire dinner. As their last Friday night in Morogoro, we arranged for Little Mango and I to tour the African Inland Church Tanzania School where S and J had been teaching English for the past three weeks. M&M (the parents) were lending their business and non-profit savvy to the Eastern Arc Mountains Conservation Endowment Fund which funds projects that "conserve biodiversity for sustainable development." Our family vacations usually involve museums, eating, basking in the Italian sun. That they dedicate summer vacation to such a challenging and tiring endeavor is quite remarkable. What an amazing family! I couldn't help but revert to CMC tour guide mode and convince S to at least visit.

On Saturday we met the D Family on the side of the main road, which still remains nameless to me (and everyone else in Morogoro, I think). Little Mango and I jumped in the bed of the pickup and drove to the AICT School. S and J gave us the lay of the land, including the plethora of books, Bingo sets, foam letters, flashcards, etc. they brought along with them. Next thing you know S and J are full-on instructors, and recitation of the alphabet begins.

A, B, C, D, E, F....Z

"Z" is very exciting and exclaimed 4 decibels higher than any other letter. The volume throughout was overwhelming until about H, at which point the loudest (and smartest) students took over. After the lesson, we headed out to the playground. Students literally fought over who got to hold my hand. Soon after the girls and boys were separated, the boys off to play football (not American football) and the girls to play monkey-in-the-middle. Today, the girls who arrived early were handed brooms, the boys were given two soccer balls.

Lessons were followed by time outside. My entourage--surprisingly large considering the short amount of time I had spent there--settled into a pile of dirt where I practiced letters and numbers to those with an attention span longer than twenty minutes. The attention and/or the dirt may explain the lingering sneezing. Picture taking was another activity during the "recess" portion of the day. The kids went crazy when I pulled out my camera. "Take a pick-ture." They certainly weren't shy, each clamoring to see themselves on the tiny LCD milliseconds after the picture was taken.
I was amazed today when kids from the far end of the playground would come up to me asking for a pick-ture, even when my camera was stowed--completely out of sight--in my pocket. I couldn't oblige anyways, seeings as I ran out of batteries. I was also shocked at how quickly a intruding dog was forced from the school grounds. Mere seconds after appearing on the campus, he was driven away by a mob of students throwing rocks at him. Poor puppy, just wanted to join in on all the fun with the kids!

Of course a teacher never plays favorites but I must confess one little student was particularly charming.
I have a new found respect for teachers, especially nursery school and kindergarten teachers. How they entertain, let along teach, for as long as they do is beyond me. After two and a half hours I was ready for a very long nap...

Where's the Chipotle?

I'm getting really excited about Chipotle and anything that comes from Whole Foods or out of Dad's kitchen! I've eaten many a meal at SUASA Club. It's an Austrian themed kitchen but for obvious reasons I have yet to try the wiener schnitzel. You can find the following on the menu at SUASA:
Chicken Chowmein
You can't tell the difference between noodles and chicken, China and Italy unless you ask our chef.
(Doesn't inspire a whole lot of confidence. You can see why I've stuck to the vegetable curry!)
Stir Beef
Imagine! The food is kept cooking on your table!

Also hilarious, the side of a Supa Bread truck reads: So good, you can't eat it on its own. I buy Tanga Loaf instead.

My Tanzanian "Boyfriend"

I often joke about my Tanzanian "boyfriend." I first met him while waiting for the boys at the taxi stand to head to Dragonaires. The handshake was long and not wanting to misinterpret cultural greetings I let him hold it for a few minutes, after which I tried to squirm out of the firm grasp he had on my right hand. Commenting on the fact that we had mutual friends, he asked to borrow my phone and I obliged. He called himself...ingenious way of obtaining my number.

The first bit of conversation was seemingly normal. He asked the usual questions: Where are you from? What are you doing in Tanzania? Why did you come here? What do you hope to get out of the experience? When he offered a room in his house to me, I started to Zacharia asked for my hand in marriage, claiming that white English girls are of a purer character than their African counterparts. I was taken aback, offended even, by his statement of hatred for "stupid African women" and his assumption that because I'm mzungu I have money and a good education. His lack of respect for African women, Tanzanian women in particular, left me speechless.

After our first conversation he called me on a daily basis, multiple times each day even. I ignored all of his calls but my subtle rejection was obviously not a strong enough social cue. He would find me as a walked to work and scold me for not keeping in touch with him. Was I sick? If I did not answer the phone how was he to know that I was not. He would ask for money or work, neither of which I would give him.

Yesterday Little Mango was introduced. He found us as we were heading to town. Keeping my hand in his for many minutes, I had to struggle a little to remove it. Later I asked E about him and the stories poured out. Antidotes about his alcoholism, his drug problem, the mess he has created for his family, the lack of respect for women.

Needless to say, I don't think it's going anywhere.

Back to Dar

After a quiet ride with the owner and operator of Peponi in his Land Rover, we got dropped off at the Tanga bus station. If I never have to take a bus (or grace a bus station) in Tanzania again, I don't think I'd be too devastated. The guy who shuffled us into the dalla dalla somehow recognized us and offered us another ride and followed us in our circle around the bus station until we booked our tickets.

We did a short circle around Tanga, in desperate search of the ice cream parlor. Of course, we were followed for literally 2 km by a guy who had requested a cig. Do I look like a smoker? Finally, after lots of angry attempts to get rid of the guy I yelled Niecha! (Leave me!) at him. We found refuge from the heat and the pesky follower in another ice cream parlor that from what I could tell hadn't opened yet for the day.

Warning: I'm about to complain about another sweaty bus ride. We were called to board the bus, along with everyone else sitting in the back two rows. B's backpack didn't fit in the overhead compartment and neither did mine. Sweaty with pushy Tanzanians anxious to sit in their seats all around, I managed to squeeze mine under the seat. Unluckily for B she sat with hers on lap for almost the entire trip.

Ah...finally in Dar! Again, mean and hypoglycemic we made a quick taxi drive over to Sweet Eazy for happy hour and overpriced vegetable stir fry. The calamari made my day but also made me miss DC and my usual calamari consuming companion. (Hope you're reading this Gatto)

Then after a much needed boost in my blood sugar levels it was out to the airport to fetch Little Mango, the newest American arrival in Tanzania. Another great night and the Swiss Garden Hotel, Nutella crepes at Seacliff Village, and another thrilling trip to Shoppers Supermarket. Also picked up North of South and The Yiddish Policeman's Union at A Novel Idea. Set me back 40 bucks but worth.

Back to Morogoro!

The Peponi Routine

Another adventure at the Arusha bus station ensued before B and I began another six hour bus ride. Destination: Tanga...actually Pangani...better yet, Peponi--a small and secluded beach resort. Having eaten breakfast at 7 AM, B and I were all but famished. We were pushed toward a dalla dalla on route to Pangani but after 10 minutes of waiting with my backpack on my lap (the honey I purchased from Mama Anna all over the left strap) and a pest of a man harassing me for money, B and I decided to splurge and take a cab. Luckily before hand we had looked up the Swahili for Piss off! and Leave me alone! so I better equipped to get rid of the guy who insisted on tapping me a little too close to my chest for comfort. When we finally arrived--arrive a taxi ride almost entirely on the wrong side of the road where the road was "better"--we were told we would have to wait until 8 PM to eat the first meal of the day. I almost went into major hypoglycemic fit mode but showed a little restraint and ordered a brownie and a beer instead.

B and I made a b-line for the beach and had a nice walk on the beach, still anxiously awaiting seafood salads and crab pasta.
Later at the bar we practiced Swahili from the social sections of the phrasebook titled "going out," "pick up lines," "getting closer," and "love." The little girls in us definitely glaringly apparent. Little did we know that we'd already fallen into the Peponi Routine: eat breakfast, hang out on the beach, cool off in the warm water of the Indian Ocean, eat lunch, take a nap, shower (hot water is on from 5:30 to 8:30), eat dinner, play cribbage, pass out, repeat.

Pictures are here for those of you that like to be green with envy. Again, the artsy, well-lit ones are B's.

Sally and Manka

I must say I am rather impressed with myself. An anthropology professor from Luther college had invited B to come talk to a group of study abroad students during the overlap in Arusha. B talked about her career path...how she got from Luther to where she is now, where she sees herself going, and her experiences in Tanzania and the workshop. I was also invited to speak a little about my time here so far (almost TWO months...) and my internship. We ended up getting into a pretty interesting discussion about malaria and I surprised myself with how confidently I could speak about it and what I've learned since I've been here. Apparently though I repeated the phrase, "Well, malaria is complicated" which B and I had a good laugh over afterward. Why can't we just eradicate malaria? A seemingly simple question with, at least from my perspective, an amazingly complex answer. The "don't-forget-to-take-your-prophylaxis" message rang out pretty clearly.

After an amazing dinner at the "Danish" with the students and comforting talk of CMC and the crazed track coach with one of the program facilitators, B and I made our way back to L'Oasis. I didn't want to leave. They have a gym (with an elliptical machine...oh, what I would do for a trip to Philadelphia Sports Club right now), key card access to their rooms, and most importantly Hot Chocolate. The return dalla dalla ride was well worth the lack of the aforementioned. The young riders were pleasantly surprised to have us join them on the ride back to Arusha. They gave B and I nicknames: Sally and Manka (how B got stuck with Manka is beyond me). B traded phone numbers (changing one digit just in case) and received multiple invitations to join our new friends for a night out on the town. Exhausted from our long day and a little weary of public displays of our "wazungu"ness we opted for a quite night back at L'Oasis instead.

Into Masai Land

"Cultural tourism" round two...this time we escaped Arusha for a glimpse into Masai culture. We met our guide Thomas at the Tourist Center in downtown Arusha but not until after another amazing breakfast at L'Oasis--made to order omelette's, toast, fruit, tea. Unlike Mama Anna's husband, who walked slowly, Thomas was a speed demon. In our rain boots, B and I struggled (at least I did) to keep up as he weaved through the busy Arusha streets. We packed into the dalla dalla and Thomas managed to snag a seat in the front of the bus--SO not fair. We waited for a while for the dalla dalla to fill up, only to wait again for the second dalla dalla to do the same. An older Masai man attempted to speak Swahili to me--although I think it was more of a cross between Swahili and Masai--and admire B's watch.

Finally we made it to Oldonyo Samba--36 km northwest of Arusha along the highway. At the time I was amazed at the paved road. Although it was a lengthy journey (if not allergies then I definitely had a case of the "are-we-there-yet"s), it wasn't bumpy. I labeled it "The Highway to Nowhere" but Thomas later corrected me. It goes to Nairobi.
It couldn't have been any more different from Mulala. The plains were dry, dusty, and expansive. Also, surprisingly free of "wazungu" calls. Not to worry, those were quickly replaced by requests--actually, more like demands--for candy (pipi) or pens. While still overcast I felt like I would probably feel if I had ever been to Arizona (which I haven't). Clad in brightly colored plaid-like fabric and beads, Masai herding their cattle dot the open plains. On clear days, Mount Kilimanjaro and Mount Meru can also be spotted. I'm just not that lucky.
After a tea break--the only thing Mama Anna's and this Masai village had in common--we headed for a tradition Masai dwelling. The "model home" was round in structure but not altogether impressive other than that it is made out a mixture of mud and cow manure. Comforting to know that during the dry season, the cows don't sleep inside the house. To say it was a polar opposite in comparison to the model homes of Cielo in Rancho Santa Fe would be quite the understatement.
Awkwardness ensued when Thomas said, "You might give the woman of the house a donation for letting you see her house." With only a wad of 10,000s (a little too generous a donation) and a 100 coin, either option was inappropriate: ask for change or shortchange. The whole money thing was awkward (okay, another similarity with Mama Anna's). Next off to the medicine man who pulled out a lot of gourds and a surprisingly accurate fortune (for 10,000 TSh). I wasn't sure if Thomas was making stuff up as we went along or if the rocks and shells that spilled out of his gourds are just that well attuned to the cosmic forces of the world. I think the whole thing was creepy but I'm not into that whole rocks predicting my future thing. Plus, he said I was only going to have one kid--that can't be correct.
Then B and I were escorted hand-in-hand to lunch by a pair of young girls. Mine pinched the stretched out hair thing around my wrist. Another literally tried to remove the bracelets on my right wrist. Uh, I don't know about that. I know I don't have candy but maybe if something is attached to me I want to keep it. Just a thought. More awkwardness when it came to paying, although to Thomas's credit he didn't ask us for a tip for his services as guide. Another donation, this time to the non-existent orphanage--orphaned children live with family members or pseudo-foster parents at the discretion of the village elders.

We waited on the side of the road to nowhere (okay, fine...Nairobi) for an hour. Thomas, B and I all pulled out our cell phones creating an interesting scene of the traditional and technology. Finally a dalla dalla that took us to the Masai market where a plethora of noises and colors overwhelmed me. Again suggesting that we "support Masai culture" through opening our wallets I was convinced to buy two Masai blankets...not a terrible buy but still.
Disappointed by the whole awkward money situation and mostly impressed by Thomas's brother who made it all the way from this rural, isolated Masai village to Boston to study on international scholarship at MIT, this "cultural tour" was a little less than advertised but well worth the escape from the Arusha rain and the emergency poncho that had become a recurring stylistic addition to my already adorable Tanzania wardrobe.

All of the pictures are here. (NB: B has much more of a photographers eye then myself. The impressive ones are probably hers but...she did teach me how to use most of the functions of my camera, including the digital macro one)

Mama Anna's

Desperate to get out of Arusha, B and I headed out to the rural village of Mulala--1,450 m above sea level on the southern slopes of Mount Meru, only about 20 km outside Arusha. Getting there was quite the chore. We made our way to the bus station--one of my favorite places...what's not to love about harassment, noise, and exhaust?--looking for the dalla dalla with the yellow stripe. We got a little sidetracked and ended up trying to find the stand with the rain boots, a necessity to prevent the whole cold/muddy feet and pant legs problem from yesterday. Still clad in B's emergency poncho (and now her fast dry Patagonia hiking pants too) we scored two pairs of rain boots, the value of which proved much higher than the 12,500 TSh we paid.
Getting the bus was pretty stressful but we were pleasantly surprised when our guide was actually where he said he would meet us. The drive up to the village was full of excitement. The rain had created a slip'n'slide of the road. We bounced up and down in the back seat--secretly hoping we'd get stuck and have to help push the car out. We made our way up to the Agape Women's Group where we were warmly welcomed by the village women to Mama Anna's cheese making place. After a short tea break we started out on a walk/hike through "a maze of lush, green vegetation dotted with small farms." But not before Mama Anna, noticing that we were freezing, threw two Masai blankets on us--not dissimilar from your average Scottish print.
(My allergies were already in full swing at this point...notice the tissue)

Most of the villagers are subsidence farmers with coffee, banana, vegetable and fruit crops. Some--like Mama Anna's family--also keep livestock for milk and beef. Along the
Lemeka Hill Tour we saw coffee and banana farms and once at the viewpoint stopped to enjoy the view of Masai plains, small villages, and the surrounding hills. Mama's husband showed me "local medicine" and tried to help with the allergy situation. I'm not sure if the eucalyptus helped but it was certainly worth a try.
Then back to Mama Anna's where we had lunch and were given an explanation of the various economic activities the women's group has started, like cheese, honey, and coffee making. Most interesting (at least to me) was coffee. The process from bean to cup is a long and labor intensive one. Below is a picture of the beans during roasting.
After roasting the women showed up how to carry "luggage" (read: bananas) on our heads. They make it look a lot easier than it actually is. If only I had listened to my mother all these years and stood up straight...although come to think of it, I'm not even so sure that would help. I wasn't too bad, except when it came to multi-tasking. No dancing, or moving for that matter.
All the pictures (B's and mine) can be found here.

News Flash: I'm White

Our first full day in Arusha included a walk around the city and some less than cultural tourism. And rain. B, being the prepared traveler, pulled out a emergency poncho from her magical backpack--almost Mary Poppins style--for me to wear. We went to the Tourist Information Center even though B had the itinerary pretty much packed. Outside the office we were all but accosted by safari operators trying to get us to take their business cards or book a budget safari with them. Note to self: learn how to say I'm NOT interested in Swahili. For a town whose based primarily on tourism there sure weren't a lot of tourists walking around. We booked two cultural tourism tours and headed back out into the mob of Safari operators.

A curio shop provided a much needed break from the hassle of politely rejecting the many offers. I walked around the shop mesmerized by the wooden sculptures--nervous that I was going to turn and knock everything over--and memories of Mali came flooding back. The rest of the day progressed more or less similarly and consisted of ducking into curio shops to escape street vendors and randoms following us. Not an altogether amazing city. In fact, quite the opposite. On the search for colorful kangas, we were approached by a man who claimed to have the best kanga shop in town. Not so much. After promising not to charge us mzungu prices, he did quite the opposite, quoting 75,000 TSh (around $70) for two pieces of fabric! After we walked out on the negotiations--a fair price is 15,000 TSh--they followed us down the street and firmly demanded we "give them money." Caught a little off guard, and frankly a little scared, "I'm going to die", we pulled out 15,000 and that was that.

Lots of exhaust, which provoked my allergies, and "Wazungu" calls which after a while are pretty annoying. I know I'm white. I know I look a little lost. I know my Swahili is minimal. But is it really necessary to announce it to the entire world?

High spot: Learning to play cribbage (my newest addiction--Dad would love it, it's all about strategy) with B in The Lounge at L'Oasis.
Low spot: Arusha in general.

Arusha: City of Exhaust

I loved Lushoto. Everything about it screamed authentic and doable--except the absence of a working ATM. Our entire stay had gone so smoothly but after two nice nights it was time to head to Arusha. Little did we know the bumps ahead.

Bump #1 was the bus ride. We headed back down to Mombo and then the usual mob at the bus station commenced. Everyone is trying to sell something, pears (which we actually ended up buying), bus tickets, samosas, shoes, radios. We were in the market for bus tickets but before buying any I thought it best to actually see the bus and make sure we would have a seat. We ended up on the only bus headed to Arusha that was actually there. We sat in the front row for awhile until someone asked us what our seats were (by asked I mean pointed to our tickets with a questioning look) and we were moved to the back of the bus, B with her backpack on lap, mine shoved with all the force in me into the overhead compartment. The bus ride was anything but smooth and the "I'm going to die" refrain rang again.

My hatred for bus stations was only reaffirmed upon arrival in Arusha. Before we even disembarked, the taxi drivers were all over us. "TAXI?! Come with me! Give you good price." "Need a hotel? Safari?" No, thank you. We were followed by a good number of drivers, safari operators, and hotel spokesmen for a good block and a half. At which point I approached a taxi driver, asked is he new where L'Oasis was, and negotiated our price. He affirmed that he knew where the hotel was, but once we were semi-comfortable in the cab our driver had to inquire with other drivers to figure it out. For once, we didn't get ripped off, probably only because our driver didn't know how far out of town our hotel really was.

Short on cash and ready to explore a new city, we headed for the Barclays (which is one of the few banks that will accept Mastercard). Afterward we headed for an early dinner at Spices and Herbs, an Ethiopian restaurant. Nothing like Addis in Dar, but not disappointing, we had a nice dinner which included a good amount of people watching. Mostly wazungu bickering over the price of a hotel room and children running around like mad.

Lushoto

After lunch we headed back up to the hotel for a nap. At around 6, B woke me up and we decided to nix dinner and continue sleeping. I guess the workshop and the travel really took it out of us. But the 14+ of sleep paid off, we were fit as fiddles for our walk up to the rain forest and Irente Viewpoint. Our guide was Saidi (again, apparently Saidi is a common name here) was a young student who grew up in Lushoto, went to Koranic school but "became" Catholic so he could attend the Catholic school. After he graduated, he decided to instead "just be me" and claims no official religious affiliation.

The rainforest hike through a portion of the Usambara Mountains was challenging but fun. We passed through unspoilt regions of tropical forests, even got to see some monkeys. Even in some of the most isolated areas, I still felt like a mzungu celebrity. Children called us out and announced our arrival to their friends and villagemates as we passed through. After being offered flowers, a group of kids demanded that I give them pens. Unfortunately, I don't tend to carry pens on hikes with me.

After the rain forest we hit up tourist hot-spot, Irente Farm and Viewpoint. We had a picnic lunch at Irente Farm, with homemade bread, cheese, and quark--a sour cream like dressing that's amazing on carrots and tomatoes. Exhausted and freezing cold, I think anything would have tasted good. After lunch we headed up to Irente Viewpoint. I can't resist including the cliche "pensively looking out to the spectacular view" picture. We didn't have the best of weather but the view was still certainly worth the hike.

After the hike we made another circle through the market. The women in kangas and the vegetables were brilliant. Unfortunately my camera was out of batteries, so I have to steal B's pictures (in fact, all of the pictures in this post are hers). After an uninspiring meal and a tired game of Scrabble, I fell asleep almost instantly.

Lushoto, Here We Come!

Packed and seemingly ready for trip, B and I headed to bus terminal in Morogoro. C had already called us a taxi and he was waiting for us in the driveway. That was easy, too easy almost. We got on the first bus, Hood to Mombo. The bus ride was a little bumpy--to be expected--and for some reason the refrain "I'm going to die, I'm going to die" seemed to continually run through my head. Especially when the driver went at high speeds and soared over "speed bumps" along the way. The lady sitting next to me--which wasn't B, we had seats across the aisle from one another--insisted on spreading her legs out over the imaginary boundary I'd created between our seats, which required me to spill out into the aisle.

Expert eavesdropper that I am, I overheard that the next stop was Mombo and we followed my new friend Lucas to a smaller bus headed into the mountains for Lushoto. Even though the bus was all but empty, Lucas decided it was necessary to corner me into my window seat and proceed into a Swahinglish chat with me. Taken by the beauty of the uphill drive and the lush surroundings, I was unamused and unimpressed by his offers to escort B and I to Irente Viewpoint the next day. As we disembarked at Lushoto--a small bus station, but seemingly hectic nonetheless--we were met with the usual onslaught of "help." We headed quickly for the Green Garden Hotel which had two singles for us.

Ready to stretch our legs, we explored to market and ducked into the first decent looking restaurant we could find. The market was much more welcoming than its Morogoro counterpart. We were met with many more "Karibuni"s--welcome--a much needed relief from the "Wazungu!"s heard when we grace the Morogoro Market. At lunch a shy Nancy, aged 3, exhausted all the Swahili I know in about five minutes but seemed entertained just watching B and I eat.

Let the (Mis)Adventures Begin!

With the closing of the workshop--130,000 TSh (about a 100 bucks) poorer from a frustrating theft incident--I was definitely ready for some time on the road. In a unheard of burst of speed, B and I went into town to pick up our dresses, which, in my opinion, turned out really well! All the workshop students were snapping their momento pictures and B and I decided to join in. Why not? At the risk of repeating what has already been well documented, here's a glimpse. Hopefully I'll end up wearing it in the States. Yes, I know it's short. That's probably why Dundy insisted on calling me "legs" for the duration of the night.


After a nice closing ceremony to the workshop (that I missed because I was burning CDs with pictures and powerpoint presentations) and dinner at Dragonaire we all headed back to pack, but not after a picture of what we termed the "Kids Table"--not quite esteemed enough to sit with the faculty from the likes of BMGF or Oxford and talk hard science but at the same time not even really wanting to.

Something to Look Forward To

Lots of things to look forward to in the next couple of days, maybe a little something to check my negativity.

Cake. Talk of a homemade chocolate cake--right out of the cake mix bag--has been circulating for a few days now. I've been craving the chocolate fudge cake from Cheesecake Factory for quite some time but Pillsbury mix in Arabic will have to suffice. Gathering all the ingredients has been quite a process--everything seems to be a laborious process here--but I think we finally have everything together. I'm baking tonight and hopefully enjoying soon after.

Dresses. Last week B and I went into town to get dresses made. We explored town for fabric and made a detour through Morogoro Market. Trying to explain the vague idea I had for my dress required B's Swahili phrasebook and multiple drawings. I'm just crossing my fingers that I don't end up with puffy sleeves (as seems to be a trend here). The seamstress was in awe of how short I wanted it. We pick them up tomorrow and the anticipation is trying my patience. Pictures to come...hopefully they'll be more attractive then my hair when I got it braided.

End of the Workshop. While I have learned A LOT and really enjoyed the opportunity to engage with East African students, I'm ready for a break from photocopies (although B and T-Man have done the majority of that) and printing CD labels. Reimbursement receipts for the students have been a lingering project and I can only look forward to no longer have to fight with them about receipts and documentation and money. It's hard to deny them their requests, especially because it's only a matter of a few dollars, but protocol is protocol--even if T-Man and I have to make it up as we go.

Trip with B. Can you say vacation? My chance to explore this beautiful country has finally come! B and I head to Lushoto on Saturday. Famous for it's cheese--go figure--this smaller town north of Morogoro is near the Usambara Mountains. After some hiking and nature touring it's off to Arusha and some Masai villages. After a few days we head to coastal Pangani for a Coconut Sunset Cruise. Jealous yet? I'm really excited about the beach!

Research with Kitty. When I return, hopefully refreshed and with some good Western food from the supermarket in Dar, Little Mango will be here. Talked to the big boss yesterday and it sounds like there will be plenty to keep me busy for my last three weeks. I'm going to be doing some really interest research and also privy to confidential information. That makes me feel at least a little important!

Less than a month left? I can't believe I've gotten through a month and a half major-disaster free. Knock on wood.

Cartwheels on a Gravel Road

After a little semi-scientific inquiry I've come to the conclusion that Tanzanian food just makes me sick. While I'm still far from proving with any statistical significance that this a causal relationship, there is certainly a strong correlation between the two. As such, I've been attempting to avoid Tanzanian food, which means mooching off the fruits of other's cooking talents--and I've been pretty successful so far! On Tuesday night I went over to the Belgium house for homemade pasta sauce. The highlight of the evening was probably the twenty minute struggle to open the bottle of Tall Horse (South African wine). My inexperience--or the uselessness of anything in a Tanzanian kitchen--was glaringly obvious when I broke the corkscrew. The metal literally broke off into the cork and a battle of physics and strength ensued.

Last night, after a mind-numbing day of spreadsheet malfunctioning and reimbursement receipts for the Workshop students, the last thing I wanted was vegetable curry at SUASA. Although impossible, Chipotle sounded pretty darn perfect. B's soup was a good alternative. B and T-Man and I were having a little party in the kitchen...B working on her soup, me working on the cake. Mom would have been proud of the Lucinda Williams playing off my laptop.

"We're All Primates"

The workshop schedule was rearranged so that Saturday was another full day of lectures and small group discussions. Dundy and I stayed late and got talking about organizational leadership while I waited for Gatto to find a Skype microphone. He's here for a whole year--I don't know how he can stand being away from his wife for that long! I've only been here for a month and a half and I'm going nuts. After a later night at the lab, I headed over to S&V's for wine and homemade pizza. I hate to say it but I think I might actually be sick of pizza. Nevertheless I wasn't going to pass up a night with my favorite Belgium Boys.

Even after a fun night, I was still in a bad mood. I spent all the remaining vocha--cell phone credits--I had to text back and forth with my parents who were looking at colleges with my sista in New England. I was still in a funk on Sunday morning. So much so that I decided to opt out of the Mikumi safari--something about waking up before the crack of dawn and sitting in a car all day, albeit among giraffes, looking at birds just wasn't doing it for me. I spent the day reading What is the What and hibernating. I'm almost finished with the book which means I'll have to find another one, which of course will probably be problematic. My hibernation was interrupted by loud noises on the roof. I figured it was just the rats--haha, just the rats--but was slightly worried that someone might be trying to break into the mzungu compound. C soon clued me in to the true source of the commotion: vermet monkeys!

They were totally unphased by us, snapping pictures of them. Although a little camera shy they continued to pounce and bite each other. Dad would have loved it! We watched them for a good twenty minutes, until the dogs came barking and they all ran away. I'd run away too, these dogs are totally ferocious. Sorry Penny, these guys are out of your league...

Workshop, Workshop, Workshop

One full week of the workshop down and another to go. Yesterday I got the opportunity to stop stapling and preparation of the workshop CDs (to be passed out to the students at the end of the workshop) and got to listen to some of the talks. A senior grant officer from BMGF--can I please have your job?--spoke on clinical trial design and the malaria vaccine pipeline. In small groups we--I actually participated this time--put together our own TPP (target product plan) for a transmission blocking vaccine in Phase IIa trial. P assigned me to the TBV (transmission blocking vaccine) group because of PapaBear--my Dad worked on a transmission blocking vaccine for year at the NIH. We were given about an hour to do it and present a powerpoint with it. Let's just say that it was a hectic hour. People spend months on this stuff and I wasn't really impressed with or proud of the result. However, the exercise got me thinking, especially about possible thesis topics.

The general theme of the week has been exhaustion. For some reason waiting around for that burst of urgency is extremely tiring. I'm sure the pizza and the party that followed over at our place hasn't helped. I was the first to excuse myself from the get together we hosted last night which made me feel a little like the first girl that falls asleep at a sleepover.

(Home)sick

Thank goodness for Pepto (and B for bringing Pepto like an experienced and well-prepared traveler)! My stomach has been very mad at me the last couple of days. The combination of the GI problems and the heat and the demands of the workshop have really worn on me. Of course, it was only a matter of time before the stomach problems kicked in but the coincidence with the workshop has proved embarrassing. I clued B and T-Man in and within a few hours the faculty all took an interest in my condition. Unfortunately, I fear that I will forever be known as that "intern girl that was sick all of the workshop."

At dinner at SUASA with a number of the faculty, each put in their suggestion about what I should eat. I was thinking of a vegetable curry with rice but they suggested just plain rice. So dinner on Wednesday was just that, rice. Not going to lie, at this point I'm pretty sick of rice. And SUASA. And Oasis. And Dragonaire. Crunchy vegetable roll at Kinya with JC and C-Bear and Pinkberry with P would be pretty awesome right about now. 42 days until I return to the States...not that I'm counting or anything...

It's funny how being sick brings out the baby in me. I just want to go home and be in my non-mosquito netted bed.

More Pizza!

So it's finally here. After months of planning, because in Tanzania everything takes months, the East African Regional Training Workshop is finally here. (You can read more about it here) I've been looking forward to interacting with the faculty and the students, and having something to stress me out a little. My time--mostly with regards to my internship--here so far has been relatively stress free so a little nervous energy was exciting. B gave a presentation on sample size calculation. Apart from being fun and nice, she's also crazy smart--especially when it comes to biostats.

Most of the faculty arrived yesterday and we went for a dinner at Dragonaire--twice in one week!!! The ride there and back was part of the fun. I rode in the back of the truck in the flat bed. Luckily P went slow on the unmarked speed bumps and on the side "road" to Dragonaire. One of the workshop faculty members tried to talk me out of Med school. Not happening. High on my list of things to do while I am here is start on my post-bac program applications. Apparently I still haven't learned the garlic-in-moderation lesson and paid for it dearly with a weird sort of stomach ache all of last night. The faculty all talked a lot of science...lucky I am so cute because I certainly couldn't keep up with them.

Washing the Mane

So today was hair washing day. Anyone that knows me well, or has even seen an adequate pictures, knows that I've got very high maintenance hair. When I broke my arm freshman year, my poor roommate had to help me control it. She can vouch for me on this one. One of my biggest worries coming to Tanzania was maintaining my hair. Sure, I brought the largest bottle of conditioner I could find at K-Mart but the lack of water pressure has required a little more creativity on my part when it comes to the hair washing situation.

I can't complain about the new house. It's clean, quiet--except for what I think are some rodents scratching in the walls, I woke up to it this morning, heard it in the kitchen when I was preparing breakfast, and again when I was in the shower. As I have described previously, the shower is more like a hose with less water pressure. Thankfully, the water is warm--but only if you turn on the hot water switch, B. I thought it might be a little more difficult than at NORAD and I was definitely correct. I don't know how long the whole thing took but now I have a cramp in my shoulder and neck. Good thing I don't have to do this everyday. Regardless, I'm going to have to come up with a better method.

Still Sneezy

My allergies (I refuse to admit that I might have a cold) are still terrible and so I decided to opt out of a hike with T-Man and B. Our other house-mate, C, went to Dar to help with Saba Saba events so I had the new place to myself.I spent a relaxing Saturday sleeping and reading What is the What, and eating a lot. When two of C's friends came over to pick up their laundry around 5, I was still in my pajamas (Like mother, like daughter I guess).

On Saturdays we go to Hotel Oasis for Indian food, but I hadn't been since my very first day in Morogoro. Will, Dundy, and I headed over there, planning to meet T-Man and B over there. We ordered drinks and because they get pretty much the same thing every week, Dundy ordered. Still no sign of T-Man and B and we started to wonder if they were actually coming. Should we eat the rest (even though we were already TOTALLY stuffed)? Several phone calls later we heard there was another miniature disaster at the lab; one of the students from the upcoming workshop was having trouble getting his ticket at the bus station. Meanwhile, my allergies (I swear, it is not a cold) were getting worse by the minute.

By the time we got back to the house (pictures coming soon), I was exhausted and totally full. One pseudoephedrine and liter of water later I was out for the night. A busy two weeks ahead with the workshop. Looking forward to being busier!

Flaming Purell

We didn't make it to Dragonaire (the usual Friday night spot for pizza and a Safari) until about 8 because of a mini-disaster with one of the computers and some equipment in the lab. Macs are almost nonexistent in East Africa, as is support apparently! Joined by our newcomer B and even the two head haunchos, I decided to mix it up a little (sorry, that was a Dad joke) and instead of a Margherita with pineapple I opted for the mixed vegetable. I think I over-did it a little on the garlic but with a Safari (or two) it certainly was a good way to start the weekend. Of course my cell phone slipped out of my pocket while we were eating. Luckily I noticed it was missing before we left the restaurant compound. I ran out of the car (already two Safari deep--everything seemed of the utmost importance) to grab it before someone found it (I'm already on phone no. 2) and slipped on the concrete. Just to add to the embarrassment, I've got a nice little cut on my chin . I'm pretty sure T-Man and B aren't going to let me live that one down.

A Fourth of July celebration of sorts had been in the works for a few days: After Dragonaires (no way Dundy can miss his pizza on Fridays), I was hoping to get some s'more action going and even grabbed the last bag of marshmallows (pink and white...not exactly the right colors, but close enough) in Pira's, not that anywhere else in Morogoro would have had them. T-Man was in charge of the bon fire and managed to turn embers left over from the days burning trash into quite a good fire. My marshmallows were, obviously, toasted to perfection. We got a good look at some bush babies, nocturnal tiny little monkey things that make a terribly annoying noise at night. They are little drunkards and can often be seen falling out of trees. Unfortunately they weren't celebrating with us.

Fireworks are illegal in Tanzania, which meant that we had to improvise slightly. One of the boys somehow thought to bring out the hand sanitizer (69% alcohol) and squirt some on the fire. When that didn't produce enough of a reaction, he threw the whole bottle in! Our version of fireworks, I guess. No tubing this year or real fireworks in the nation's capital but our own little celebration turned out quite nicely.

Sneezy...

B and I moved out of NORAD hostel into a house with another American girl. (Hurray, more girls! I was really starting to feel like the annoying little sister.) T-Man helped with the move and his piki piki (motorcycle) proved to be worthy substitute for a moving truck. Apparently moving was the order of the day and B and T-Man had been doing so all day with a bunch of boxes that arrived with one of the PIs from Seattle, which meant a relaxing dinner at SUASA. Tempted by the grilled chicken, I had the usual vegetable curry. I'm so predictable.

After the meal, B brought out the cards for a game of Gin Rummy. T-Man was pretty much hilarious! His commentary is really priceless. At first I was on his bad side because I kept taking all the cards he wanted but we eventually (as soon as I was no longer in the lead) came to an understanding. I blame my loss on the extremity of my allergies. Ever-well prepared, B even had a pack of travel kleenex! Sneezing at SUASA until about 11, we headed back to the house for our first night there. The card-playing really reminded me of the usual post-dinner entertainment at home, minus the "For crying out loud!"s and the "You better SCOOT SCOOT SCOOT!"s.

The new house is really nice. My room is literally a bed with a mosquito net in the middle of the room. Picture to come...The shower is sufficient but nothing spectacular. Think a hose with less water pressure and with warm water. I can only anticipate the difficulty this will present in trying to maintain my hair. Regardless, I am really looking forward to staying at the new mini-sorority house.

The Tickle Monster Attacks

My new friend and hostel-mate, B--just like GG but nice, and I started out at the Genome Science Center--where I usually work--but Bess quickly realized that she couldn't do much work without her laptop which was at the lab at the Regional Hospital. We decided to walk into town instead of taking a taxi or a dala dala which gave me a chance to see parts of Morogoro that I had only seen from the road. Surprisingly we didn't get harassed too much!

When we got to the hospital, Kitty had some samples that she was culturing so I got a chance to help her with that. Before culturing we took a count of the white blood cells in each sample using a hemocytometer. After a week of “internet research” just wearing gloves was exciting! Of course, the power went out about every minute and a half and we had to continually interrupt the process. Everyone at the Hospital lab was excited to see me again and inquired about my recent whereabouts, etc.

After a semi-exciting day at the lab, I was ready for a quiet dinner and game of Scrabble with Bess. Bess came for her four-week stay much more prepared than I did—she not only brought a travel Scrabble set, she also brought candy and cards! Around 6:30 I still hadn’t seen her but figured she was still working at the lab but I soon found out that Kitty had invited us over to her house for palau. What a treat!

We spent a wonderful—and very high energy—evening helping Kitty cook, entertaining her two daughters, and even having an impromptu photo shoot. The girls were mesmerized by Bess’s camera—which is pretty impressive—and insisted on many, many pictures. “Two by two. Girls only.” FLASH! “Now two by three. He in.” FLASH! With only a year of English, Kitty’s oldest daughter (5) has a really remarkable grasp of the language. Like her teacher at the International School she gets very angry if you speak Swahili around her. “YOU SPEAKING KISWAHILI!” she’ll shout in an angry tone. Bess brought caramels and the girls went wild. A couple hours of tickling later—not to mention a FABULOUS meal with salad, palau, watermelon, bananas, and beans—we headed back to the hostel exhausted.

"Don't Let the Bed Bugs Bite"

Guess what, they do...and a lot. If the gecko in the shower and the ants in the sink weren't enough, I'm about 106% sure that "pests" have now infiltrated my bed as well. The evidence--twenty-one bites from my right ankle to knee--is overwhelming. Thank goodness for anti-itch cream! And just when I thought my legs were recovering from all the mosquito bites...

Oh, Kipepeo

T-Man suggested that we check out Kipepeo--a private beach on the South coast of Dar es Salaam. I can't even describe how beautiful Kipepeo--which means butterfly in Swahili--is. After a lugging around my backpack in the Dar heat all day, all I wanted to do was jump in the turquoise Indian Ocean. We checked in and went over to Bungalow No. 21 and did the usual inspection. Let's just say it passed with flying colors. The bungalow--thatched roof and all--had a Swiss Family Robinson feel to it and the balcony with a hammock looked out to a stunning view of the Indian Ocean. Apparently they were inspired by the mud huts built in surrounding villages, giving them a uniquely African feel. I certainly didn't feel like I was in Africa though!
Not long after checking in I was in the crystal-clear water. You could see straight down to the bottom! The water for refreshing--not freezing! Forget Hawaii...my new beach destination of choice is in Tanzania! Here's the beach around sunset time, just as we were sitting down to dinner. (I didn't even edit this picture...)
The Swahili word for relax is poa, and that is just what I did on Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning. More pictures that will probably make you more jealous are here.

Day Two of the Dar Adventure

A wake-up call wasn't necessary; the call to mosque at what seemed like six o'clock in the morning was good enough for me. Headed down to the breakfast at the hotel and was delighted that the scrambled eggs and toast were actually good, not just edible! We got an early start to the Village Museum. For $2--yes, we paid in US dollars, which is funny considering the national currency is the Tanzania shilling--we got to explore different dwellings of the many tribes of Tanzania. Museum fatigue set in after about half an hour. The bathroom break on the way out of the museum was probably the better cultural experience.

Then the bus ride. We weren't 100 percent sure how to get to our next stop--Mwenge Market--and the museum cashier was very nice but not helpful. We hopped on a bus with Mwenge on the front and crossed our fingers. Less than 50 cents later we were in a chaotic bus stop. We got ripped off by one of the taxi drivers who charged us TSh 2,250 to get the Market that was about a three second taxi drive away.

Mwenge Market was really cool. Lots of Masai crafts, tinga-tingas, kangas...all that stuff Dad used to bring home from his trips from Africa. As we walked around, every shop keeper was trying to get us to go in..."Karibu. You're welcome Miss." "Looking is free! I'll give you a good price." All in all though I was surprised at how low-key it all was. I didn't want to get a whole lot of stuff because I knew I would have to drag it around for another day and a half but I'll definitely go back on my way home. Will got two really cool tribal masks.

For lunch we headed over to Seacliff Village, a super touristy area with a sort of food court area, a supermarket--not as super as Shoppers--and a bookstore with English books. Once you sit down at one of the tables, women accost you with menus for wraps, pizza, Subway (!), French, Indian. Inside Epid'or, the French bakery, I actually forgot I was in Africa! The crepes with Nutella and bananas were AWESOME as was the pizza with pineapple (my new favorite). It was a nice break from the continuous culture shock. The bathrooms even had automatic soap dispensers. I had almost forgotten those existed! It really is the small things in life.

After a taxi ride along the coast and past the President's residence, we made it to the ferry dock, which anything but lush. For TSh 100 each (9 cents), we took a five minute ferry ride cut the cost of taxis. Taxis in Dar are expensive (usually at least 6,000 but sometimes as much as 12,000). Our taxi driver on the other side was a crazy. He was really jamming out and fast was definitely his speed of choice. He tried to convince us he was a chief and that we should pay him extra. And finally, Kipepeo!

SUPERmarket and Addis in Dar

Friday night was pretty much pure ecstasy in Dar. Will and I headed over to Shopper's Plaza. We got out of the taxi and I was literally mesmerized by Shoppers Supermarket. It's amazing how entertaining a grocery store can become after three weeks shopping in a mini-mart sized store. Will and I literally went down every aisle! Some items were inexpensive but others were outrageously priced. Cereal was about TSh 9,000 (somewhere around $8) but it was still nice to see Fruit Loops and Special K in the aisle.

After about an hour of gawking, Will and I headed to Addis in Dar, an Ethiopian restaurant. As soon as I walked in, I knew I was really in for a treat. We ventured upstairs and had a seat among ex-pats and other tourists. The atmosphere was beautiful...the smells, candles, and everyone was really relaxed. Tej--honey wine--came highly recommended and for good reason! The food was amazing and I thought they were going to have to roll me out of there. The meal ended with some of the best tea I have ever had. It was served with popcorn which seems like a weird combination but in actuality is FANtastic. Not a cheap dinner but well worth it! This blog certainly got it right!

Travel Agent Sarah did pretty well for Day 1 in Dar!

Off to Dar!

After lots of planning and packing, I met Will in downtown Morogoro with "the list" of hotels and sights I had planned out for the weekend. I re-packed everything from the hostel so that I wouldn't have to pay for it while I was away for the weekend but, of course, I waited until the day-of to pack everything up. Like fitting everything but a weekend's worth of clothes into the not-so-large backpack, the bus stop was chaos. Before we even got out of the taxi people were trying to push us towards one bus or another. "Dar? Dar?" Luckily Will knew the way to the bus we wanted (Hood) and we paid TSh 5,000 (less than $5) and walked on. People were banging on the windows trying to get us to cashews, oranges, water, anything they could sell before the mzungus left. The bus ride was surprisingly short and the ventilation was great.

We arrived in Dar in the late afternoon and headed straight for our hotel (the Starlight). After sitting in the classic Dar traffic, we finally arrived at our hotel and settled in (read: checking out all the channels on the television and inspecting the bathroom). Then we walked around the market a block away. Located in the predominantly Muslim neighborhood, we found ourselves surrounded by jewelry shops but no markets; everything was closing when we got there around six. Will got some weird fruit that I can't remember the name of and we walked through a disgustingly smelly part of the market that almost made me gag. That was not on "the list." Let the adventure begin!

Afternoon at the Salon

That's pronounced like saloon here, by the way.

For some reason, I thought getting my hair braided would be a good idea. I mentioned to one of the girls in the lab, who is GORGEOUS, that I was thinking of doing it and she took me over to the salon that she goes to and set me up with an appointment--appointment is, as always, a loose term. I got there a little late because the dalla dalla decided to a take a detour. The Norwegians provided funding for a bunch of road improvements but until the improvements are actually finished traffic is a nightmare; many of the roads are obstructed by the mounds of dirt that lie in the middle of the streets. The dalla dalla stopped at an unfamiliar part of town and if it weren't for the sight of the mosque above some of the buildings I would have been totally lost.

I walked into the salon and got a lot of looks like Is she lost? or Who is she looking for?. I sat down and brushed out my hair with a brush I brought with me--which was fascinating to the hairdressers there!--and she got started. The first braid didn't hurt all that much but after that I was making all sort of faces that the ladies in the salon thought were hilarious. After two and half hours, FINISHED! Below is the hilarity. (I'm hoping this picture doesn't resurface in front of a crowd at my wedding or something...)
Not going to lie, I felt pretty hard-core. And it was only 7,000 TSh! As I emerged from the salon the tailors next door instantly cracked up and even stood up and started clapping. SUPER embarrassing. Needless to say, I've been getting a lot of unnecessary attention since.

A To-Do List?

I actually made a to-do list today. This is a pretty normal occurrence when I'm at school with 47 thousand things to do but here nothing seems quite urgent enough to warrant a full fledged list. Items are the following.

1. Pay for NORAD Hostel at the Faculty of Forestry and Nature Conservation.
After almost a month living at the hostel I haven't paid a cent. It's probably time I did that, huh? I'll probably have to go to the bank because like everything else here, it's a cash only business. I literally have seen ZERO places that accept credit or debit cards. In fact, to my more business minded friends out there this might be a way to make a fair chuck of change, especially as the tourism industry begins flourishing here.

2. Laundry.
Yeah, this one has been on there for a while. I've done a load of underwear so not to worry, I'm not that dirty...Apparently I can pay a guy at the hostel to do it for me for TSh 3,000 (less than $3 a load). But I MUST MUST MUST do it today because I leave for Dar es Salaam for the weekend with Will tomorrow and everything has to hang dry.

3. Get a new cell phone at Yasser's shop.
Two days ago on the dalla dalla my cell phone got stolen. Right out of my pocket! My first lesson in pick-pocketing...a good one to learn before my trip to Dar. Anyway, that means I have to get a new one. Luckily a local friend of T-Man's has an electronics shop in town and he'll give me a pretty good deal. (And he speaks English!)

4. Meeting regarding the Workshop.
Big day in the office! I have my first official meeting. Of course, no time was assigned to the meeting so I've just got to be ready whenever I guess. I got a very official email last night about it. Duh duh duh!

5. Pack for trip to Dar es Salaam/work on itinerary with Will.
I've got to pack up all my stuff for a weekend in the city! As I've said before, not a whole lot to do in Morogoro by way of tourism so Will and I are heading to Dar this weekend. We're going over our plans later, which tentatively include Ethiopian restaurant and some time at the beach. I'm moving out of NORAD hostel for the weekend (doesn't make much sense to pay for a place I'm not actually staying). I only brought two backpacks worth of stuff and Will said I can stash what I don't bring to Dar in his room for the weekend.

6. Update blog and budget.
Working on it. In honor of the original budget tzar, Papa Bear, I'm keeping an Excel spreadsheet with everything I spend, broken down into categories (food, transportation, etc.).

Surprise in the Shower

Crossing my fingers this doesn't become a normal occurrence...

Typical semi-warm shower at NORAD and I've piled on about a ton of conditioner and have started the process that is "maintaining my hair"--I'm sure we're all aware of my kink-taculous hair that turns into dreads in a couple of days when not given proper attention. I'm mid-mane when our friend from the Geico commercials lands at my feet! Yes, a gecko. I, naturally, scream and finished the shower in haste, unknowingly leaving about a third of my hair still well-conditioned. I didn't want it to drown because that would mean I would have to remove it from the shower. Luckily he was fine and scurried away--probably only to return again in a week.

Morningside and More

After a late night of soccer and cake, Jeran and I met up with Bird-Man, T-Man, and my new Swiss friend around 9 and drove to Bomba Road, about five to ten minutes outside of town. We met a friend of T-Man's--he knows everyone here--and headed up in the Uluguru Mountains toward Morningside. According to this website and what T-Man said, Morningside is a psuedo-abandoned house that once served as a lush weekend retreat for German colonists. It's now owned by SUA.

The vines on it are gorgeous with the brightest orange flowers I've ever seen. Certainly rivals bougainvillea in Rancho Santa Fe.

The hike started at Bomba road on a fairly well-surfaced dirt road. After a while it started to get a little bumpier and I started to question my choice of shoes--not that I really had one considering I brought two pairs of TOMS and that's it. The views were spectacular from the get-go, as you can see.


The trail was difficult but fun. At many points the trail wasn't more than two feet wide and among the tall grass I almost disappeared. The mountain-side was used as farmland. Apparently a deforestation movement started in the 1970s so the only remaining forest--the "primary forest"--is on the very top of the mountain. The cleared land has been used for cultivation. The soil is really rich and according to our guide you can grow pretty much anything. His farm has cinnamon, strawberries, currants, a full assortment.

After a steep and winding trail and a whole lot of loose gravel, we made it up to Morningside. It's 900 meters up the mountain and the views are impressive! We pulled out the left-over cake, cassava chips--my new favorite snack--and some PB&Js I'd packed.

There's Bird-Man looking out on the valley and Morogoro below.

After a nice break and a gymnastics competition with some of the kids that followed us up, we headed towards the village and our guide's farm. (My cartwheel lost pretty terribly to the five minute headstands and handsprings these kids pulled out!) The trail was pretty tough and I could already tell that I was going to be in some major pain the next day, especially with my shoes. The kids along the way would all yell MZUNGU at us and one group insisted that we take their picture. I think the only English they knew--or pretended to know--was "Take picture."


After the farm, we went over to the "local disco." I didn't take any pictures in fear that I'd get beaten up. Basically a huge block party on the side of a cliff, the "local disco" was hoppin'! (Tangent: "Local" was the word of the day...we'd ask our guide what type of plant something was and the response was "local bush" or "local tree"; the paths were are "local" and the fruit we picked straight off the bush was "local fruit".) Everyone seemed to be having a great time and the music was a mix of drums, an out of tune organ, and 80s pop. Earlier our guide had said that the two biggest problems for his village are alcohol and pot--which is grown all over the place in the mountains. Safari lager was all over the place and so was the smoking. But the whole village--at least to my knowledge--came out for it. All ages were there and the energy was awesome.

We decided to head back down although I could have stayed people watching for hours! We paid our guide (TSh 6,000...about $5; SO CHEAP!) and started on our way, just the mzungu. Of course we got lost but we found our way, thanks to some locals. We ran into some sketchballs who tried unsuccessfully to sell us a bag of "local" marijuana. The highlight of the decent was when Team Mzungu took on some locals in a impromptu soccer match. The boys we played only wore one shoe and were much more accustomed to the bumps in the "pitch" and the slope. Somehow we ended up having to play upfield. After a couple of goals we were on our way.

Afterwards we headed to Dragonaire for pizza. Pizza twice in a week, SCORE! Barely able to walk, especially after the long dinner, we went over to Bird-Mans to watch the Spain/Italy game--what a snoozer! What an awesome day though. All the pictures are here.

Cake!

After a late night of soccer I hit the snooze button about twenty times until I realized that I hadn't heard from Jeran yet and as a psuedo-hostess I should probably locate my "guest." It poured last night so the streets were more like mud than pavement. Every four or five steps I'd slip--think ice skating but with mud. I headed into town on the dalla dalla and sat next to the cutest kids that wanted nothing to do with me. Aparently loss of coordination isn't cool here. Wear it mzungu.

Jeran had already left his hotel and according to the attendant had headed for the post office. After meeting up we went over to Pira's--the MINI grocery store where all the mzungu get ripped off, especially on Cadbury or anything with a non-Arabic label. Highlight was picking up the requirements for Funfetti cake (label half in English; half in Arabic), which is the activity for the day. Very exciting..."Are these eggs raw?" "Yes." "Have they been cooked?" "Yes."

Dragonaires and Soccer...Again

Another awesome Friday filled with brick-oven pizza and Euro2008. After a day of dissection and research for my INT199 paper, I was certainly ready for a night at Dragonaires. Jeran gave me a ring just as Al Jazeera was starting the 10-minute loop of news again. I think the Tanzania air has gotten to me or I've just become a total space cadet. I mis-read my messages and thought he was arriving on Saturday for some reason. Nevertheless, I caught a cab down to his hotel and gave him a tour--albeit a short one considering the size of Morogoro--around town. We met the guys (Dundy, Will, and T-Man) at Dragonaires and I surprised them all by ordering a Safari. I opted for the mixed vegetable and splurged on a large instead of a medium. It was certainly well worth the food coma that followed.

Afterwards I headed to Bird-Man's to watch the Turkey-Croatia match. A snoozer for the first 90 minutes of play, the match picked up in extended time--and the stoppage time that followed. My genius has finally been confirmed...at least according to a Norwegian saying that proclaims anyone that can explain the off-sides rule to a woman and have her understand it a genius. I got double points from Bird-Man for being a women and being able to explain it to T-Man. Thank goodness for that.

New Friends and Company!

On my way up to the hostel to prepare the usual PB&J for lunch--the concept of which is mind-blowing to the Vet students whose lunch is continually stiff porridge--I was approached by another mzungu girl. I was super excited at the prospect of a new friend and even better a new friend that spoke English. She asked if I wouldn't mind reading over a letter for her; she insisted her English was not so good. Like any good CMCer I was all over the cover letter she gave me. We ended up having lunch together and exchanging phone numbers. She knows of a pool so one of these days (in the next two weeks before she returns to Switzerland) I'm going to go with her and grab pizza at Dragonaires afterwards.

Last night I decided to give up on the half-pound of pasta with red sauce and grab some CHICKEN (I know, big step) and french fries...or rather Freedom Fries, at SUASA instead. I had the 700-something page The Fate of Africa with me to keep me entertained but luckily Bird-Man was there. He let me join him and it was nice to eat dinner with someone other than the Al Jazeera anchors. He was also kind enough to extend an open invitation to watch the soccer games with him--which I imagine I'll take him up on this weekend.

And last but certainly not least, I'm looking very forward to a friend of a friend's visit to Morogoro. While there is a "dearth of tourist activities" here, hopefully he'll be easily entertained by Euro2008 matches and big weekend meals out. My Swahili tutor offered to show me some new spots in town as well. Should be a fun weekend!

"Course Practicals"

So I guess it's about time I started to talk about the whole work thing...That is what I'm here for, right? I've been with six Vet students at the University partaking in what they term "course practicals." From what I've gathered, while school is in session the laboratory component of courses is rather limited and the students spend an intense (by Tanzanian standards) 10 days working in the lab and the field. Mind you, everything is still on Swahili time--which means that 8:00 sharp really means sometime around 8:20 or 8:30.

The students are hilarious and can't seem to get enough of the mzungu. They assume that I know the answer to every question when really they know a whole lot more than me. (Mom, you were right...I definitely need to take Microbiology) I've been very impressed by their facility with all sorts of bacteria and viruses. They certainly know their stuff! They are so welcoming and insist that I do everything they do. They love to talk about the States and were completely blown away by the cost of education. One asked how we pay for it. Another responded, "Don't you know, white is the color of money."

Today we inoculated mice, and by inoculated I mean gave them a shot with some nasty parasites. If they aren't handled correctly they bite you and--apparently--this hurts. I tried to explain the similarity to my late hamster Maybel but the concept of a hamster and a pet made very little sense to them. Silly mzungu. When I asked what they had named the mice they were at first puzzled. I thought they didn't understand but when I asked in Swahili they answered, "Moja, mbili..." or "One, two...". One student, whose name means Thunderstorm in Swahili, said, "Let's name this one Obama." I named mine McCain and another one was bestowed with Hillary. Incidentally, we later dissected Hillary. Thunderstorm was my partner for the dissection and insisted that I do all the cutting and poking. We found a tumor in poor Hillary :( along with all the normal organs; we proceeded to do organ smears. My favorite was the squash smear of part of the brain--a true moment of hilarity when students from the other group showed me their George Bush brain...it's even better when you hear it with an accent.

I washed my hands like forty times before lunch.

Mikumi Safari

I finally got out of Morogoro for the day. T-Man, Dundy, Will, and Bird-Man were heading to Mikumi and invited me along for the ride. I had the opportunity to learn ELISA with the vet students but opted for the impromptu safari. We headed to load up with petrol (about $20 each) around 8 a.m. It took about an hour to get to the National Park but the drive was smooth and picturesque. Every 10-15 minutes we passed another village, each one abuzz with people and plastered with the usual VodaCom advertising. And then, Mikumi! Lonely Planet (I finally took a look at a guidebook) describes: “Mikumi, part of the vast Selous ecosystem, is Tanzania’s fourth largest national park. Within its 3230 sq km, set between the Uluguru Mountains to the north and the Lumango Mountains to the southeast, Mikumi hosts buffaloes, giraffes, elephants, lions, leopards, crocodiles and more, and chances are high that you’ll see a good sampling of these within a short time of entering the park.” Entering the park was another $20 (SO CHEAP!) and the weather was perfect, breezy and warm. Just to give you an idea of what kind of equipment we were working with…
Mom don’t read this part…To check out the animals or take pictures we just roll down the windows and sit out on them.

We entered the park—wishing I could still pass for 16 and save $5—and within minutes saw some giraffes. The park is massive and apart from the occasional Land Rover, surprising not packed with people. While the scenery is evocative of the San Diego Wild Animal Park, this is a real-life, no-joke park. No trams, just animals and grounds for them to wander. Every animal spotting was a thrill.

T-Man drove the Land Cruiser toward the hippo pools while Bird-Man was on the look-out for bird species to catalogue and record in his notebook. He’s a well-equipped bird watcher with USSR binoculars and a sweet camera—bird watching, I learned, is really quite an art. The hippos were AWESOME. They stayed in the water the whole time we were there but you could still see how massive they are.

Dundy insisted on exploring and by exploring I mean cheating death and getting as close to the crocodiles as possible. I was sure he was going to get eaten.

Don’t forget the baboon and the impala spotting. This is literally on the side of the road. We didn’t have to get out of the truck to take pictures of them or anything!

After some quality safari time we decided to break for lunch. I had a hamburger—for some reason having my second hamburger ever sounded really good—and fries (yes, T-Man, FREEDOM fries) at an over-priced hotel restaurant. The hotel was totally safaried out with posh little houses facing out to the plains and mountains, think the London millionaire meets Tanzania national park. While we were eating baboons were playing in the tree right in front of us! Too bad I didn’t want to share any of my fries.

Ready to see some elephants and simba (lions) we got back on the road, and what do you know, ZEBRAS!

We searched for a few hours but no luck on the elephants and lions, although Bird-Man had some excellent luck with his bird spotting. Around 5:30 we headed back out of the park and back towards Morogoro. On the road back we had our elephant spotting and like true tourists we hopped out of the car to snap some shots. The boys fell asleep on the ride home and after the requisite half-pound of pasta with tomato sauce I headed over to Bird-Man’s project house to close out an awesome day with more soccer. I couldn’t have asked for a better day to mark two weeks in Tanzania!