It's hard to believe that I only have two more nights left in Africa. I've gotten quite used to the way of life here. Eating rice and beans with mchicha, a green vegetable that resembles spinach, every day for lunch (sometimes dinner as well) is no longer repetitive, so much as it is a craving. Dala dala rides have lost their stress, and I have come to view peanutbutter- butter and strawberry jam- cucumber sandwiches as acceptable. Certain phrases in Kiswahili are becoming so ingrained in my mind that they make more sense than their English counterparts. I've found myself slipping in "kwanini?" (why) and "hapana, asante" (no thanks) into conversations with friends from home, much to their confusion. Although I would still not rank Arusha high on my list of favorite foreign cities, it is growing on me a little. I did find myself saying the other day that I couldn't wait to get home, and I wasn't referring to East Brunswick, New Jersey...
The last time I posted, I was less than halfway through my independent study project. As per request of my mother, I will not go into detail about the research part of the experience... I hit some more snags along the way, but I was ultimately able to complete my project on biodiversity in the intertidal zone, and write a 23 page paper on it, so no complaints. With about a week remaining at the beach, Thea, Sarah, and I had two friends come down from the rainforest in the western Usambara Mountains (Mazumbai) to join us in the writing festivities. Well, I suppose it was not our shotty internet connection that drew them coastal, so much as the warm waters of the Indian Ocean, but you get the idea. One of them had managed to make it through 21 years without ever setting foot in an ocean (I found that extremely hard to believe, even for someone from "Colorsota"...), so we were thrilled for her to have the opportunity to meet up. The morning prior to our departure, she and I went to the dive shop that us "dags" had been frequenting for advice throughout our projects, and rented snorkel gear. The tide was extremely low, so we ended up lawn-mowing our way through several seaweed beds before eventually making it out to the reef. (I have discovered that seaweed is apparently a common fear for many people. Personally, I have no issues with it- urchins are what get me). Although the seaweed part was unpleasant, I think she enjoyed the reef. We saw many species of fish, one in particular that struck me was called a juvenile batfish- it was so foreign looking that I didn't even believe it was real. After we returned our gear, she expressed her sympathy for my constant exposure to urchins. It would appear as though I'm not the only one with a new phobia. We departed the coast on April 28th with mixed feelings, sad to leave all of our new friends, but eager to get back to the SIT group, and away from the proprietress of our hotel. It was an unbelievably long commute (as to be expected in this part of Africa), but we arrived at the doorstep of our new house in Arusha (house might be misleading... it's more like a Beverly Hills mansion. We all felt like we were entering "The Real World- Arusha), and were greeted with lots of hugs, a delicious Tex-Mex dinner, and a brand new friend... One of the girls on the program had adopted a kitten while we were away! Missing my own cat a whole lot, the sight of Poa was incredibly exciting. The last week of the program was dominated by writing papers, getting distracted by Harry Potter, creating power-points for our presentations, and procrastinating by any means necessary.
The theme of the program was "wildlife conservation and political ecology", which basically opened the doors to any kind of research, social or natural science, that we wanted to do. Unlike in regular school, the presentations were fascinating- we actually looked forward to listening to what everyone else discovered. Some of the topics included a photographic survey of the life of askaris, traditional African dancing and painting, the tanzanite industry, protein deficiency in village diets, conservation in education, herbivore behavior, Maasai veterinary medicine, and the illegal bush-meat trade, to name a few. Baba Jack is also a big supporter of incorporating humor into presentations, so needless to say it was an entertaining five days.
The conclusion of presentations meant the end of the program. We had to say a heavy-hearted goodbye to a few members of our family, but the majority of us all had after-program plans. Basically, about 10 or 12 headed off to Zanzibar, a few had family members come to share in the safari experience, and 4 of us, myself included, were set on tackling the beast that had been looming in the distance throughout the entire program- Mount Kilimanjaro.
Kaitie, Corey, Mary, and I were picked up at our Beverly Hills mansion by our mountain guide Obadia, in our personal dala dala (named Fort Jesus). We embarked on our journey to the Marangu route (the only trail most tour operators are willing to deal with in the rainy season, due to the fact that you stay in huts rather than tents), stopping at random places to pick up porters, food, warm clothing, and various other members of the crew. Our level of excitement was every increasing as the distance from the mountain decreased, and we were all stoked when a local passed a stick with a chameleon into the car. We took turns holding it, hoping it would change color (it didn't), and were naturally informed after the fact that we had to pay for the experience (not that we weren't expecting that). After paying our park fees and eating a boxed lunch, prepared for us by our Kili company, we finally set off. The hike to the first hut was through the rainforest. It was hot and muggy, but we didn't care. We arrived at the Mandara huts four hours later to hot tea and dinner, and went to bed. Ok, so maybe it didn't happen that smoothly. I started to feel sick about halfway through the hike, and arrival at Mandara was made quite unpleasant due to nausea- I feeling that would (unfortunately) stay with me throughout the entire climb. According to my climbing mates, that makes summitting even more impressive, but it certainly made the experience less enjoyable. The next two days were filled with hours of hiking, followed by dinner (although I couldn't stomach much more than bread), and then sleep. We began our ascent to the summit at 11:30 pm on the night of the 12th. Equipped with headlamps, we made our way up the steep sides of the mountain, stopping about once an hour to catch our breath and watch our guides sing and dance to Bob Marley songs. Us students were not the only first time hopeful- summitters. the cook that came with us had actually accompanied us on all of our safaris, and was Kaitie's homestay father. He had climbed the bulk of the mountain before, but had never reached the top. We were all thrilled that he decided to climb with us. There are 3 different notable locations of the top of Kili. The first one you come across is Gillman's point, followed by Stella point, and finally (the true summit) Uhuru peak. We arrived at Gillman's around 4:30 am, and kept climbing. Despite wearing about 5 layers, I could still feel the bone chilling wind. At one point, I started falling asleep while walking, and Corey and I were both starting to become concerned about the effect of the cold on our fingers. We kept trudging through the packed snow, and became aware of a soft orange glow, beginning to appear over the glaciers and the sea of clouds, hanging below us. We passed Stella point, and after a while, a few travelers began to approach us, congratulating us on a job well done. A little farther, and finally, there it was- the sight we had all been dreaming of for the past few days- Uhuru peak. The sense of accomplishment was amazing... We were on top of the tallest freestanding mountain in the world, one of the 7 summits, the rooftop of Africa. Sadly, we only had the chance to spend about 15 minutes on the summit, due to the frigid air and the long descent we still had ahead of us, but we took our photographs, admired the breathtaking view, and basked in the glory of a job well done. The descent, for lack of a better term, sucked. It was steep, covered in sand that was displaced with every step we made, cold, and we were completely exhausted. We entered the icebox of a hut at Kibo, and refused to continue to our destination at Horombo hut until we had at least two hours of sleep. Our crew obliged, and we set off in much better spirits. It was about a four hour hike to Horombo, so we had a total of about 15 hours of hiking in one day. We passed right out, and woke up quite sore, and quite eager to get off the mountain. When we finally made it back to the Marangu gate, around 1 pm on the 14th, our guides took us to a restaurant for an incredible lunch (rice, beans, mchicha!), and we piled into Fort Jesus (I've never been so happy to see a dala dala in my life). The way back to Arusha was interesting, as I was congratulated by one of our assistant guides for being well versed in the Harry Potter section of the Bible (he was obviously really confused... we all thought it was hilarious), and we watched our other assistant guide and our head guide signaling to each other about the confused guide. We thanked the wonderful crew for all they did to help us accomplish our goal, and parted ways at the house. (I have to say, the porters of Kilimanjaro are some of the most incredible human beings I have ever met. Somehow, they are able to walk all the way up to Kibo Hut (at an altitude of about 15,000 + ft), carrying sometimes 2 large hiking backpacks and kitchen supplies, balanced on their heads, necks, and backs. I can't even imagine such a lifestyle. I have SO much respect for them- they certainly made our job look like a breeze). We fell asleep, probably around 8:30, and didn't want to get out of bed the next morning, due to sore muscles and no motivation to do anything. Since then, the battle scars have started to disappear, and our fight with Kilimanjaro is starting to become a pleasant memory of a past accomplishment to all those who ask. Sometimes it doesn't even seem like it happened at all. Yesterday, Mary and I were ready to hike again, and we, along with our friend Sophia, discovered a path that leads up to some beautiful vistas of Arusha and the surrounding villages.
Each day we have to say goodbye to more and more friends. I've woken up the last few mornings with strange butterflies in my stomach, having to do with the idea of leaving my Tanzanian home and family. I'm not really sure how things are going to be back in the States. We're all pretty worried about re-entry. Culture shock is one thing, but reverse culture shock is something entirely different. One of my friends told me that her friend who had been abroad in Patagonia described his experience with coming home as being like a puzzle piece, that doesn't quite fit anymore. I can't seem to shake the idea that that is going to be my story as well...
I fly to Amsterdam on Monday with Sophia, where we plan on meeting up with one of my friends who is currently abroad in England, and Thea, who will be joining us on the 24th. Sophia and I will both be celebrating our birthdays there, which we're excited about, and then I return to the states on Friday. How quickly 4 months have passed. It feels like just yesterday I was driving past fields of sunflowers on my way to Ndarakwai, wondering what adventures Africa had in store for me, who on the trip I would become friends with, and how I would change through the experience...
I guess it is only right to end this post as we ended each safari- with thanks. Thank you to Baba Jack, Baba Jerry, and all the staff at SIT for everything you have done to make this program possible. Thank you for your knowledge, patience, encouragement, and friendship. Thank you to my SIT family- you are honestly some of the best friends I could ever imagine having. Thank you for being there to share in the ups, and sympathize with the downs. A huge thank you to my parents, who allowed me to follow my dream, even though they might not have understood its appeal, and supported me throughout the program. Thanks to my homestay families, Kili crew, and all those in Ushongo who helped me to maintain my sanity when my ISP was falling apart. But mostly, I would like to thank Tanzania, and Africa in general for its natural beauty, animals, triumphs, and challenges. Unfortunately, to many, this continent is marked by its problems. Poverty, disease, corruption, dependence on foreign aid- yes, these are all hardships that are present, but that is not all that there is. Every place has it's own problems. Africa will test you, and those that are willing to accept the challenge will be changed forever from their experiences. I could not be more thankful for the change, and as my friends and I have said many times in the past week, although our departure is imminent, it is not "kwaheri" (good bye), it's "baadaye" (see you later).
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Surviving and MacGyvering
“I can’t
even imagine being anywhere but here right now.” That’s a feeling that I’ve had
many times on this trip; At Ndarakwai when I stepped into a Land Rover for the
first time, popped the top, and stood on the seats for the duration of the two
hour night drive; again at Tarangire when I had my first close up encounter
with my spirit animal, the giraffe. When we arrived in the Lake Manyara area,
it happened when I was given a block of wood, a mallet, and a piece of metal,
and encouraged to try my hand at African woodcarving. I could sit here and
attempt to recount all of the moments that I’ve experienced over the past
nearly three months that have served to assure me that my decision to live in
Tanzania for a semester was a necessary component to add to my life’s quilt,
but that would be boring. Besides, if you have been reading this blog up to
this point, you already know about the major ones, or at least those that were
somewhat possible to attempt to portray through mere sentences. After Maasai
homestay, however, those moments started to become fewer and farther between. I
was haunted by daydreams about food other than rice and beans. The language
barrier was testing my patience, and I was tired of mosquito netting and
Nairobi flies. On top of that, I told my parents on the phone the other day
that if I were to describe my research project in two words, they would be “Murphy’s
Law”…
Let me back
up a bit… After spending a week in Arusha completing finals, which included a
presentation on ruminants (those impala again) and determining what “IT” was,
and making a case for whether or not “IT” was working, Thea, Sarah, and I
headed for the coast again. It started off a bit unlucky, when we purchased bus
tickets for 9 o’clock AM, after being assured by a taxi driver that, “yes,
Airtel will be open at 7, so you can buy that phone your parent’s want you to
invest in tomorrow, no problem”, only to realize that Arusha is without doubt
asleep until at least 8 AM. So we headed to Tanga, I had no phone, we had no
minutes for our portable wifi stick that we needed to do our research projects,
and we were missing several other items that we had wanted to purchase prior to
leaving. Although Tanga is a big city on the map, it is not exactly a tourist
destination, and we had been warned by several people that there is not much in
the way of shopping there. Feeling pessimistic, we went to our hotel, were
forced to pay for two rooms even though we really only needed one, and were
then hassled about the importance of writing down our passport numbers for the immigration
official. Tired and irritated, we fell asleep without dinner. We woke up the
next morning, ready to have our hopes dashed regarding our supplies, but alas,
we were wrong. It turns out that Tanga not only had everything that we needed,
but it was also a whole lot easier to navigate than Arusha, not to mention the
people were much friendlier. It was incredibly refreshing to be approached by a
couple of Bibi’s (grandmother’s), who simply wanted to greet us and welcome us
to Tanga, rather than feed us a sob story about their fifteen grandchildren and
hold their hand out for shillings. We also met a lovely woman who presented the
three of us with beautiful headscarves, as a gift, and then decorated our hands
with henna drawings, free of charge. Mama Tumai, the manager of Drifter’s (our
hotel), also happened to be in town that day, and offered us a lift all the way
to the hotel. Each armed with hiker’s packs and regular daypacks, we were
beyond ecstatic at the prospect of avoiding a two hour daladala ride all the
way to Ushongo.
Luck for
me, however, seemed to end that day. I’m at the beach doing an independent
study on biodiversity in the intertidal zone. I thought that it would be a
simple project, especially after hearing the tasks lying before several of my
peers. That turned out to be as far from true as possible. The last time I was
here, I explored the reef during extreme spring tide (for those of you who do
not list “Ecology” as an area of expertise, spring tide is when high tide is at
its highest, and low tide is at its lowest), which meant that nearly the entire
system was exposed to the air, and it was very easy to walk out and see
starfish, crabs, and clams galore. Prior to my return, I assumed that it would
always be like that. Then I learned better… First of all, despite the fact that
I arrived during spring tide this time too, low tide was not nearly as low as
it had been before. I couldn’t even find the reef, and would probably still be
searching if Thea and I hadn’t visited the dive shop belonging to one of the
upscale resorts on the beach. Turns out that the reef is about 750 meters out
in the section that I was searching in. It gets closer to shore near my hotel,
but in any event, that factor blew my intended method of researching out of the
water (quite literally). Each day I created a new plan to attempt to overcome
all of the obstacles, redesigned my project again and again, but every time
when I returned and was met with the eager questions from my friends and other
people who frequently visit Drifter’s (the name of the hotel is incredibly appropriate),
I had to admit that, once again, I had been defeated. One day when I asked
Sarah to come out and give me a hand, I finished the outing thoroughly convinced
that I would have to give up and come up with a new project (Thea also came out
with me one day. Both started helping in high spirits, and informed me that
they were jealous of my project. Both ended with grimaces, and declared that
they never wanted to go back there again…). But giving up is not me. I’m as
stubborn as they come, just ask my parents, I’m sure they will back me up on
that one…
Floating on
the surface of the Indian Ocean, gently riding the waves, watching them stir up
phosphorescent algae, and looking up at the Milky Way, clearly visible in the
night sky. That was my most recent “I can’t even imagine being anywhere but
here right now” moment. It was magical. It put my unsettled mind to rest. It
didn’t matter that I can’t speak Kiswahili, or that Maasai homestay affected my
brain in a way that now makes me cringe every time a child touches me, or that
my clothes never get fully cleaned when I wash them. Something in me changed
that night, and I have been filled with a sense of optimism and a “you’re here,
be here” mentality that I thought had been wrung out of me the last 50 times I
heard a stranger yell “mzungu” at me on the street.
I started
constructing solutions to solve my problems before the Milky Way night. I had
constructed a quadrant out of beach debris to address the issue that rope and
sticks will float away with the tide, and are therefore useless for boxing off
a sample area. Every challenge that I came to from that point on, I faced with
the art minor side of my brain (people often question the connection between
art and science. I’ve learned from this experience that, at least when it comes
to research, one can’t stand without the other), each time getting a little bit
closer to accomplishing my goal, but always having one more thing to fix. The
optimism instilled in me that night, restored my patience though. I have
encountered everything from freak storms to my shoes getting stolen while
attempting to carry out this assignment, but today, I finally succeeded with my
sampling. Fingers crossed, the rest of the week will turn out similar results!
A very happy belated birthday to my best friend, Juliana
(April 14th), and a happy early birthday to Carolyn, one of my new
SIT friends who is doing her ISP in Arusha (April 18th). Wish I
could have/could be there to celebrate with you both!
Sunday, March 31, 2013
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