Writing from Kilimanjaro International Airport in 80 degree weather across from a fully decorated Christmas tree, I’m thinking about all the ups and downs of the past month. It’s been a while since I last posted, so bear with me because this will be a long one. But for those who aren’t too fond of a lot of reading, the lists are twice as long and the pictures twice as numerous so everybody wins.
I normally have the attention span of my neighbor's three month old dog, Moshi, when reading a blog.
Whenever there’s good news and bad news, I tend to ask for the bad news first. I’ve been a little under the weather the past two-plus weeks with a nasty, persistent, debilitating, sudden…cold. Boring in terms of acute infections in Africa, I know, but this one kept me inside for over a week. I have to admit I had it coming, since I had been entirely healthy, knocking on wood, and doing my best not to think or talk about being sick for my first three months. Thankfully I’m patient enough to wait out sore throats, coughing, congestion, and an inability to communicate verbally, but this one is still lingering. After an onslaught of Western remedies from CVS failed to achieve anything, I decided to go for a tried and true local cure: Zanzibar.
OK, so maybe it was a little more planned out than that, but I boarded the bus for Zbar (as the cool/lazy kids call it) with a stack of kleenex (a.k.a. napkins) and a complete lack of a voice. It just so happened that my travel buddy, Kelly, had also lost her voice overnight. This would be a fun one. Our coach left Moshi at 7:15 am, miraculously almost on time, and took me east well beyond where I had already been in Tanzania. Although it was still pretty hair-raising compared to a standard Greyhound trip in the U.S., the eight-hour ride was pleasantly uneventful. We passed through the Usambara Mountains, which looked more like the Peruvian Andes to me than an isolated range in East Africa. We watched a movie, Emotional Risk, and its sequel…twice. We saw the reality of bus travel (among the less reputable companies) in this area – an accident that left one bus with a cracked windshield and another on its side. Finally we made it to Dar es Salaam, where our optimistic goal was to catch the last ferry over to the island of Zanzibar. Having consulted friends and Moshi veterans alike, we figured our chances of making it to the island in one day were 25% at best. Still, it doesn’t hurt to set goals, so we caught the first cabbie at the Dar bus stop and (after some haggling) sped through the mid-afternoon traffic of the largest city in Tanzania.
Thankfully we had some guidance from Maria, a friend living there, who warned us that it would be a tight connection. She also warned that we would be overwhelmed with hawkers at the Dar ferry office, but we really started to take this advice seriously when our Tanzanian taxi driver reiterated them. If you’re wondering what I mean by “overwhelmed,” imagine you just stepped out of a taxi in a new city only to be greeted by about a dozen young men shouting at you to hurry with them in about fifteen different directions. And we had to keep an eye on our bags. And we had to pay the driver. Oh yeah, and we had to buy tickets before the boat left. Before we knew it we had been shuttled into a tiny office, where one of the guys from outside proceeded to sit down at the desk in the frenzy to appear like he could sell us a ticket. We left Catherine, our Aussie friend from Moshi, in this office and went next door to the resident ticketing desk. An old man seated there brought some calm (and frustration) to the situation when he said we could make it as long as we forked over our money and booked it. One of the “friends” from outside had claimed one of our bags (actually Catherine’s) and led us out around the building. First Kelly and I picked up our ferry tickets on the run, then we proceeded down to the dock hearing a series of “pole pole” (“slow down”) calls from confused onlookers. Just like that scene in Indiana Jones, we made on the boat it right as the gate went up. Winded, we had made it with Catherine’s rogue bag, but no idea if she had jumped on the boat before us. Our self-hired porter demanded money as the boat pulled away, and our Australian friend appeared from around the corner on the deck. All was well as we coasted through the port with two hours ahead of us to come back to Earth.
The ferry encountered some slightly rough seas upon reaching the Indian Ocean, but all in all the trip wasn’t bad and we didn’t see anyone lose their ugali. We met up with Maria and three of her friends on the boat before we arrived in the port of Stone Town at sunset through a graveyard of rusted cargo ships. Of course, the first thing we learned after stepping into town was that the entire island had been without power for a full day and wasn’t expecting it back on soon. Some hotels would have generators, but fans or air conditioning would be a stretch. Again, Maria and her friends came through for the group and used their Zanzibar savvy to find us a cheap place to stay for the night. It may have been the hottest sleepless night I have ever experienced (with the illness still in full force), but it didn’t matter too much since my stomach was full of seafood from Forodhani Gardens and I had a day in Stone Town to look forward to. The charm of this capital city of the former island nation is tough to describe in words. We didn’t go on any tours, see any attractions, or experience any entertainment. Still, just walking aimlessly around town on a hot Saturday morning gave us a taste of this ancient Arab trading center. In terms of architecture, the main focus is on the elaborate doors, but the dirt-worn buildings themselves were dripping with character. The quiet alleyways in the middle of the town were also a welcome change from walking around Moshi, since a wandering merchant couldn’t spot us from a hundred feet away to lure us into his shop. We basically spent the morning taking pictures, complaining about inflated prices, and playing bau (a Swahili board game much like mancala) before catching a van to the east coast for some quality beach time.
I had heard mixed reviews on both the town and the hotel where we would spend the next four days. Paje is one of the larger coastal towns and thus has a reputation for being slightly crowded and busy. The hotel/resort looked amazing from the website, but of course the only people to write reviews were those who had been thoroughly disappointed. Thankfully our weekend was neither busy nor unpleasant. Dealing with sunscreen and heat in December (still sick) was odd in a bad way, but completely outweighed by the fact that this place represents the picture of “paradise” in my mind. A group of bungalows opened up to a grove of palm trees, the only obstacle between my room and the ridiculously blue ocean. The “resort” consisted of a bar/restaurant/reception area, pool, and about ten beach chairs, but that’s all we needed. The others voted to skip out on any recreational activities in favor of unending lazy beach time, so I’ll have to save any snorkeling or dolphin visits until next time. The beach wasn’t entirely peaceful, as a number of local merchants would approach any tourist offering trinkets, snorkeling tours, coconuts, pineapples, seafood barbecue, massages, etc. This game got old after a while, but we did take up the offer for coconuts. A young guy about high school age would free-climb a 40-foot tree in about 10 seconds and toss his prizes to the ground. He then peeled an opened them so we could drink the juice and eat the inside for a cheap snack. For dinners, all we needed to do was walk down the beach for a few minutes and walk into a place with a generator. This part of the island turned out to be extremely quiet before the holiday rush, so we probably saw barely thirty other tourists the whole time.
When I ran out of patience for just sitting on the beach, I decided to take advantage of the drastic low tide that opened up hundreds of meters of extra beach to check out. I actually decided to keep going all the way to the breakers (past the reef), which turned out to be over a kilometer from where I started. Unfortunately the coral and sea urchins got the best of me just before I made it to the dark blue waters, but I ended up with a nice little guided snorkeling tour of the seaweed farms and reef bed. Of course this trip had to end, and thankfully Precision Airlines made the trip back much less eventful than the ride from Moshi. Oh, and you ask why the entire island had no power? Their power plant exploded, apparently. Part of me hopes it comes back for the Christmas/New Years crowd, but another part hopes they can see the stars as clearly as we did through the palm trees.
When I ran out of patience for just sitting on the beach, I decided to take advantage of the drastic low tide that opened up hundreds of meters of extra beach to check out. I actually decided to keep going all the way to the breakers (past the reef), which turned out to be over a kilometer from where I started. Unfortunately the coral and sea urchins got the best of me just before I made it to the dark blue waters, but I ended up with a nice little guided snorkeling tour of the seaweed farms and reef bed. Of course this trip had to end, and thankfully Precision Airlines made the trip back much less eventful than the ride from Moshi. Oh, and you ask why the entire island had no power? Their power plant exploded, apparently. Part of me hopes it comes back for the Christmas/New Years crowd, but another part hopes they can see the stars as clearly as we did through the palm trees.
To completely defy the laws of chronological order and confuse everybody, I’ll jump back now to Thanksgiving time. I was a little skeptical of the plan…it was the weekend before Thanksgiving and a group of Americans working in East Africa would converge in a private lake house in Kenya for a traditional dinner. Plans beyond that were sketchy at best, but I was excited to reunite with friends I had made on the Uganda rafting trip. If the bus to Dar sounded interesting, you should experience the shuttle to Nairobi. Opting for the more expensive luxury coaster (mini bus), Malavika and I endured the somewhat paved road to the capital of Kenya for more than seven dusty (yes, inside the bus too) hours en route to the lakeside town of Naivasha. The unpredictability of transportation shined yet again as our matatu from Nairobi to the lake town included music videos on a television screen, a stolen (and recovered) cell phone in city traffic, and a transportation center that was impossible for our friends to locate at night. It took some effort to convince everyone we didn’t need a taxi, but eventually we caught up with our ride and finally made it to our destination.
Twiga House is basically a private luxury house on a side-lake of Lake Naivasha. And the great thing about East Africa is that a bunch of regular college students can easily afford to rent it for a weekend. Fifteen of us in total, we put together a few good meals and enjoyed some quality time at the house, but the real fun was had outdoors. Even in the yard, there was a close call with a stray hippo at night and talk of zebras breaking in through the fence. Beyond that, we could see the lazy hippos and flamingos in the lake from the back porch. Believe it or not though, the two adventures of the weekend required us to actually put on shoes and leave the Real World Kenya house.
Our Saturday trip took us to Hell’s Gate National Park. The ominous name exists for a good reason: the park rests on somewhat unstable geologic formations, resulting in hot springs and an uncommon amount of underground pressure. Kenyan ingenuity has brought about a massive project on this land to run one of the world’s only geothermal power plants, bringing a dizzying amount of pipelines and industrial buildings to the national park. Beyond this first impression, however, we were treated to a day of gorge hiking in terrain that doesn’t seem to belong in the otherwise green Great Rift Valley. For those of you who haven’t been gorge hiking (who hasn’t?), it was basically a long walk through a mini canyon along a thirsty creek.
To make matters interesting, there were a handful of boulders in the way that required us to make use of what little climbing skills we had packed for the day. Even more interesting was the fact that our Ugandan friend brought along her two sons (about 2 and 5 years old). While our nimble guide took the lead in both climbing and child transport, we all chipped in to make sure the whole group made it through unscathed. Adrian, the older brother, may have appeared tramatized, but he’ll definitely brag about this in five years. The highlights of this hike included finding plenty of obsidian stones, Todd scaling a 25-foot wall without equipment, our guide telling us how Tomb Raider 2 was filmed there, the steaming trickles of water flowing down the walls in places, floating pumice stones, and the fantastic view at the end.
To make matters interesting, there were a handful of boulders in the way that required us to make use of what little climbing skills we had packed for the day. Even more interesting was the fact that our Ugandan friend brought along her two sons (about 2 and 5 years old). While our nimble guide took the lead in both climbing and child transport, we all chipped in to make sure the whole group made it through unscathed. Adrian, the older brother, may have appeared tramatized, but he’ll definitely brag about this in five years. The highlights of this hike included finding plenty of obsidian stones, Todd scaling a 25-foot wall without equipment, our guide telling us how Tomb Raider 2 was filmed there, the steaming trickles of water flowing down the walls in places, floating pumice stones, and the fantastic view at the end.
The second trip started out exactly the same as the first: we arrive at the park, guards ask for a standard exorbitant entry fee, Damian commences bargaining, and about 15 minutes later we all enter at a discounted student/volunteer/resident rate. This time his American negotiating charm gained us access to the Naivasha Country Club, which is pretty much exactly how you’d imagine an African country club on a lake. We weren’t there for tea and croquet, however. We just wanted a place to catch a boat across the lake to Crescent Island, one of the only places on the continent where tourists can do a self-guided walking tour among wildlife. Given, the wildlife is limited to the tame variety – giraffes, zebra, and wildebeest mostly – but it made for some nice photos. It also provided an opportunity for Miriam to fulfill her lifelong dream of chasing down a pack of zebra for the sole purpose of frightening them enough to make a noise. Unfortunately science still may never know what sound a zebra makes, but at least we didn’t have to deal with any angry guides or park rangers afterwards.
The giraffes and zebra were pretty skittish the whole time, but a few of us managed to creep within about 30 yards at one point. None of the pictures will show it, but being this close really gives you a better idea of how these creatures are simultaneously so enormous and graceful. Our boat ride back to the country club was spiced up when the captain of our six-person vessel offered to throw some bait out to lure the fish eagles close. This well-rehearsed show consisted of the guide whistling, showing the fish, and throwing it into the water just before the eagle would appear out of a treetop from several hundred yards away to grab the snack with its talons. Obviously I wasted all of my chances to see this while I stared at my camera to get the perfectly timed shot…which of course didn’t happen. Lake Naivasha was another successful outing on this trip, but what would it be wit hout a movie reference? Out of Africa was filmed on Crescent Island, and the animals we saw were descendents of those that were brought in just for the movie. I guess you can’t escape Hollywood even when you least expect it.
The giraffes and zebra were pretty skittish the whole time, but a few of us managed to creep within about 30 yards at one point. None of the pictures will show it, but being this close really gives you a better idea of how these creatures are simultaneously so enormous and graceful. Our boat ride back to the country club was spiced up when the captain of our six-person vessel offered to throw some bait out to lure the fish eagles close. This well-rehearsed show consisted of the guide whistling, showing the fish, and throwing it into the water just before the eagle would appear out of a treetop from several hundred yards away to grab the snack with its talons. Obviously I wasted all of my chances to see this while I stared at my camera to get the perfectly timed shot…which of course didn’t happen. Lake Naivasha was another successful outing on this trip, but what would it be wit hout a movie reference? Out of Africa was filmed on Crescent Island, and the animals we saw were descendents of those that were brought in just for the movie. I guess you can’t escape Hollywood even when you least expect it.
Thanksgiving in Moshi provided two additional traditional dinners, spoiling me beyond belief. All three of these even featured turkey, which is a miracle be cause Nairobi is the only place one can find it in this part of the world. The Bowes hosted a smaller doctors compound get-together with some friends who were visiting from the States. As always the food was great (probably with the exception of the cheese/garlic bread I threw together at the last minute), but this happened to be the night the termites emerged from the ground in full force. All it took was a brief afternoon shower, which isn't out of the ordinary, but the air was thick with small, blind versions of dragonflies. These bugs obviously wanted in on the festivities, as they found any chance to sneak in a cracked door or through a hole in the window screen. Luckily for us, the fact that they can't see anything makes it very easy to swat them out of the air and send them back outside to find their own food. I've only witnessed this strange occurrence one other time so far. On one of my sick days home from work, a steady stream of the creatures emerged from a patch of land in my backyard for fifteen minutes straight as "Flight of the Valkyries" played in my congested head. Back on topic though, the second Moshi Thanksgiving dinner was at the Crumps' house down the road. These folks also know how to host, as w e were treated to games of mafia and guess-the-famous-person-written-on-the-card-attached-to-your-back among a nice group of kids and adults from the KCMC and ISM communities. And what Thanksgiving dinner isn't complete without a post-dessert live viewing of a New Zealand vs. France rugby match (with enthusiastic narration from the resident Kiwi)?
As always, life hasn’t just been trips and adventures. Work as usual has been going pretty well, and the first year medical students at KCMC just concluded their Community Health projects with presentations last week. It was very interesting to see the responses they came up with on their own to the problems witnessed in all the different villages. Many of them were shaky in their presentation skills, but I saw a lot of improvement in critical thinking over the course of the project. I also think it’s priceless that they have had a chance to do meaningful fieldwork immediately upon starting their medical training. It’s probably just the public health bias within me, but I think American college and medical students could learn a lot from experiences like this early on in their education. It was also flattering and a little weird to see some of the groups acknowledge me in their poster presentations…as “Dr. Andrew.” If people start taking that thought seriously (along with the “occupation” line on my res ident’s permit), it can only mean trouble.
So all of that happened since I last wrote, plus I had to say goodbye to a lot of good friends who won’t be back in Moshi next month: Christian, Mirke, Henriette, Linn, Marianne, Hanna, Judi, Daniel, Julianne, Kelly, Fabian, Urs, Josh, David, Jan Willem, Wouter, Steph, Magda, Helena, etc. etc… It will be nice to meet some new folks in January and see some familiar faces, but hanging out with this international group was a very cool experience over my first four months in Moshi. My plane home for Christmas just landed, but I’ll get back to writing in January for Part II of my Moshi experience.
PS: Please excuse the sloppy writing, as this was done entirely in airports and I'm too tired to look back over it. A million bonus points to anyone who gets the reference in the title of this post.
UB40 – Red Red Wine
Frank Sinatra – Somethin’ Stupid
Kenny Rogers – The Gambler
Rammstein – Seemann
Fleetwood Mac – Silver Springs
The Kinks – Strangers
The Yeah Yeah Yeahs – Black Tongue
Michael Jackson – Bad
The Decemberists – The Crane Wife 3
Modest Mouse – Teeth Like God’s Shoeshine
Bob Dylan – A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall
Arcade Fire – Keep the Car Running
Bob Marley – Iron Lion Zion
Modest Mouse – Edit the Sad Parts
The Walkmen – Wake Up
Cold War Kids – Hang Me up to Dry
Frank Sinatra – That’s Life
Pink Floyd – Us and Them
Eddie Vedder – Hard Sun
Arcade Fire – Woodlands National Anthem
Al Green – I’m So Tired of Being Alone
Johnny Cash – I Got Stripes
Shannon – Let the Music Play
Othar Turner & The Rising Star Fife & Drum Band -- Shortnin' / Henduck
The Kinks – Apeman
Booker T. and the M.G.s – Green Onions
The Beach Boys – Sloop John B.
Vampire Weekend – Mansard Roof
Led Zeppelin – D’Yer Mak’er
Jack Johnson – Symbol in My Driveway
Toots and the Maytals – Pressure Drop
Bob Marley and the Wailers – Sun Is Shining
Three Dog Night – Shambala
311 – I’ll Be Here Awhile
Israel Kamakawiwo’ole – Henehene Kou ‘Aka
Jack Johnson – F-Stop Blues
Raptors
Phillies
Dolphins
Bills
Brewers
Browns
Lions
Sharks
Bears
Pistons
Red Wings
Royals
Bengals
Falcons
Spurs
Super custom
Rastababy
Super Wax
Rap
Said n’ Said
B 52
Bulldog
Happy Nation
Ranger
Redemption Express
Take it easy
The Barack Obama
Hello Express
Red Card
Super Man Digital Movement
Revelation
Jubilation
Ruff Ryders
Soft Cotton
Love Situation
Hot Stepper
Kazakhstan
Brenda 09
Small Axe
Laizor Son
Bad Intension
No Way Out
Texas Boy
Tough Luv
The Spike
West Life
Jewel
No Air
Hustle & Flow
Katalyst
Dear Folks
Sly
Wrong Number
Mayhem
The Rock
Providence
Dreams
Cocktail
Marine
Dear Mama
Undisputed
Nice Guy
Country Boy
Flipper
Memories
The Ol’ Skool
Chain Game
Area Code
Testimony
Unfinished Riddle
Dipset
Struggle
Precious
Black Marker
Black Marker
Testament Restored
Love Me or Leave Me Alone
Confusion
The Wailers
You Never Know
Suprise
dag
Bridal
Digital Control
Ride on Time
Perfect
2Pac Life
No Objection
Skyline
j.com
Sunset Beach
Paradise
Hollyhood
i-pod
City Jet
Inflammable
King of the Road
Makaveli
