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| welcome to tanzania! |
We had heard about and joined an online community called
CouchSurfers- the website helps to connect host families and individuals with
traveling ‘couch seekers’. Members add a fairly extensive profile that others
can see and ‘surf away’. You can look for potential hosts anywhere, and see
their ratings and comments as added by people who have stayed with them. We
found and were accepted by a lovely family in Nairobi.
We called the family when we landed in Nairobi, Kenya, and
they came to the airport to pick us up, then took us home for bread and tea.
The couple had a son in university and a daughter one year older than Raven. We
were happy to learn that the husband and wife work flexible hours, so we were
driven to tourist sites around the city on our two night stay with them. Of
course we filled their gas tank, (we actually stopped at a Shell Station- how
crazy was that? I’ve avoided getting gas at Shell for over 20 years- after once
hearing that the company supported apartheid and that we should boycott
them-habits stick!) paid for their admissions (greatly reduced for locals, just
like in most developing countries) bought them lunch and made a spaghetti
dinner for the family. The family went over the top- helping us get a bit of
internet time, feeding us meals, and the eldest son even gave up his bedroom
for us.
The family was proud of their culture and seemed to be well
off by African standards. They lived in a thousand square foot two floor concrete
house in a gated community. A gate to keep the ‘bad guys out’ but still, picture
a dirt road leading to a dirt driveway and the house having a bucket
shower. The little community pools their
resources to pay for 2 men who live in a little shack and take turns opening
the gates 24/7 for the residents.
We had thought that we may be cold once we arrived in
Africa, but it was startling how quickly our bodies re-acclimatized to 20+
degrees. My body feels normal here, returned to its normal energy level as is
doesn’t have to expend extra energy constantly cooling itself. My hair also
appreciates the level of humidity, as it is not so awkward to tame and feels
less dry here. I noticed the bumpy red
skin on my arms disappeared in India, but will probably return now.
On first impression, people don’t seem to dress up like they
did in India. I loved seeing the women and girls in their colourful sequined
saris. Here the poorer people wear what looks to be Goodwill cast off T-Shirts.
Business men wear suits and we have seen a few
women dressed in outfits of patterned African fabric.
There are many similarities to both India and Canada that we
have noticed so far. For one, this country appears to use flush toilets and
toilet paper! This is mostly for the touristy areas, but we appreciate it. The
surroundings look like India- tropical, hoards of people walking, many carrying
goods on their heads, dirt roads and dirty traffic pollution. The traffic snarls
to a dead stop in Nairobi. Men walk through the traffic selling things car to
car- you could purchase anything from a banana to a laminated poster of Jesus. Commuting
is much quieter, as people don’t use their horns as frequent communication
devices, but there doesn’t appear to be as many smaller vehicles squeaking
through the jams and continuously driving through red lights. The town of “Nair-robbery” appeared smaller
than I thought it would be. We drove through the city center in a short amount
of time. Driving with the windows most of the way up is prudent, as it is not
uncommon for a pedestrian thief to reach into a vehicle at a standstill and
make off with what he can grab.
Heath and I were quite concerned about safety in Africa, and
our fears weren’t allayed when we were told that their 20 year old son had recently
been robbed of his backpack containing his laptop whilst walking home from university;
and Nancy’s good friend had died a gunpoint a few weeks ago, as she was mugged. The advice we were given in the event of an
incident was “Don’t look at their faces”. If you struggle or look at them, they
will kill you, as you may be able to identify them later. Scary, but good
advice.
Extra security occurred by guards at the gates to the
tourist sites. The guards would pass a mirror under the car to look for
explosives, and it was not unusual to get metal detector-wanded going in to
buildings.
We crossed the border in to Tanzania easily, as the small shuttle
bus from Kenya stops and waits for us to walk through ‘exit Kenya’ and ‘enter
Tanzania’. Visas are obtainable at the border incredibly easily- a cash cow for
the country because they want the visa fee in US dollars. One quick computer
cam photo, fingerprints and a stamp in our passports. When we arrived in
Arusha, the starting point for our adventures, we got out at the last stop.
Wanting to avoid taxi and safari touts, we asked directions to the nearest internet
café. We also needed to confirm that there was a spot in the hostel, as we left
Kenya a day ahead of schedule. We were prepared to walk-but the bus shuttle
driver drove us the 400 meters to the closest hotel that had internet! That was
incredible – talk about being taken care of! With all this chaperoning- I was incredibly
nervous when Heath and I had to leave Raven alone to facebook while we walked
600 meters to the nearest ATM to take out Tanzanian shillings- as we had no
local currency to pay for the internet service, or a taxi to take us to our
hostel. I was worried about being followed and mugged- and in fact there was a
young guy that walked with us to the bank (we faked walking into a school as a
guise) but then he had turned around and followed us a ways back, too! As time
has evolved, I feel a lot safer here- people are just precautious for us- which
is nice.
The Ujamaa Hostel has been awesome, as it is targeted for
the volunteer crowd. Welcoming, beautiful clean communal areas, with hot water
showers, boiled drinking water available and two meals a day. Raven loves it as
there are the twenty-something western crowd for her to socialize with. We
connected with our tour operators, It Started in Africa for Heath. Company representatives showed up at the
hostel to brief Heath for his
Kilimanjaro attempt , take our extra luggage to be stored at their office, then
drove me to buy Raven and my bus tickets to Dar es Sallam for our volunteering
and home stay experience.
In the morning the company picked us up, ensuring Rave and I
got on the bus, after wishing Heath a successful journey. Our bus ride was ten
hours instead of the anticipated eight. The first pee stop was a slight bushy
area off the highway. Most of the women on the bus got off and found a small
bus to squat behind. A few hours later, we stopped at a spot for lunch. The
choice was French fries with or without meat. Luckily there were also fruit
vendors, so we could buy two oranges. The coolest part of the trip was the
complimentary pop and crackers that were offered to the riders. It Started in
Africa had ensured that I had the phone number of the person I was meeting, and
the name of the bus stop, Matias- a few kilometers before Dar. When we got
there, the bus let us off at the side of the highway-and a guy came up to us,
but not the guy we were expecting, but as the bus was late, Baraja (the founder
of It Started in Africa) wasn’t able to
meet us. We had to trust- he was a young guy and didn’t show any ID- but he
knew who we were- so we followed along with a bit of trepidation.
The sights that greeted us along our twenty minute walk to
our home stay weren’t super encouraging. To be honest, we were both near tears-
Raven upset and missing her dad- she was worried about our safety without him,
and emotional up after our bus was two hours late. The dirt road and wooden
outsides to shacks was reminiscent of the ‘wild west’. We shared conversation along
the way, veering off the main road onto a dirt pathway past concrete homes and
small corn fields. When we arrived at the family’s house we were warmly
welcomed with a Swahili “Karibou!” the family was lively and lovely. We sat in
the living room making awkward small talk while waiting. Eventually a room was
made for us, and we had a late dinner of rice and beans with a side fish dish.
There was a father and a mother living in the house with a school aged boy and
an adult daughter. It turned out that the daughter, Fatuma, who cooked every
meal for us, lived in another house a little ways a way. Others congregated at
the house- a college aged boy who was boarding and taking a driving course, and
the aunties showed up at various times, sometimes overnight, sometimes not. We
stopped keeping track. In the yard they raised chickens, chicks, ducks, and rabbits.
Raven fell in love with the puppy of their neglected dog- both tied up on short
leads in the dirt.
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| the cutest puppy in Matias |
Day 2
Last night I had expressed an interest to go to church on
the Sunday. Alex, our guide came to collect us in the morning after breakfast
of tea, white bread and margarine- on the label it is called “Medium fat
spread”. Yum. We walked across the
highway to an outside tented catholic church. They had live singers, and I was
hoping it would be more of a “Halleluiah and Amen” experience than it was.
Church went on for 3 hours in Swahili- we understood none of it. I think we got
off lightly, as we were told church can go for 8 hours! Raven was bored stiff,
but the singing was worth it.
We walked back for
lunch- a dish of unripe bananas, cooked in water and grated carrots. We also
had a chopped spinach dish, cooked with onion. More rice and beans, as well.
This meal will be eaten two times a day. Raven loves the food- she has been
eating seconds, as well as thirds. Fatuma cooks and preps meals in the front
yard or front steps, on an outside burner with charcoal.
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| Fatuma's kitchen |
In the afternoon we finally met Baraja and were chaperoned
to the orphanage, via a micro bus along the highway. We were told we were going
to take motorbikes the rest of the way- that sounded pretty fun. It turned out
that the pika pika were motorbike taxis! This makes sense as the dirt roads are
rutted and uneven. They are bone dry this time of year, I think the rainy
season ended early this year. I couldn’t even imagine the passage in the monsoon.
The ten minute (1000 Tsh = 60 cent) ride was super fun. The orphanage housed 27
kids from ages 3 on. They were super stoked to see us, play with our hair and
hang out. It was similar to the orphanage in Nepal, but the kids have even
less. There are less volunteers and less
support given to these very needy, unwanted and unloved kids. The woman that
founded the Buloma Foundation is working really hard to get support for these
kids. They have a real home here, the staff love them and their home is slowly
improving, small donation by small donation.
bit of hair braiding fun
More soon!
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