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...