Thursday, June 30, 2011
Camels and Caves
Sunday seven of us drove to a camel ranch outside of Arusha to go on a camel safari. It was an interesting experience to say the least. But dont worry. Im planning on saying alot more.
We took a van at 8 o'clock from the house. The road was bumpy and dusty. The six km we took on a dirt path I thought might kill me. The dust was blowing through the vents and the hot sun was hitting my arms through the window. I stayed quiet trying to concentrate on not tossing my toast and coffee on the seat in front of me.
Finally after fifteen minutes off roading in a van from the early 90s... we reached the camel ranch. I clamored out quickly to breath some less dusty air. We waited as they set up our camels and prepared our box lunches.
Soon they brought out the camels with saddles and colorful fabrics thrown on their backs. The camels were a lot larger than I had anticipated. They were at least seven feet tall, so sitting on top of them was disorienting at first. I rode the first camel with Kasmira, a Canadian in our group. We thought everyone was doubling up at first until we looked back and realized we were the only unfortunate ones. Riding a camel double is not a fun experience. I thought I was going to slip off at any moment. I was sitting on the front half and I could feel every bump hitting me. On the way back we convinced others to rotate so we could try sitting alone. The first stop we came to was a baboon cave. The baboons weren't around but the caves and the view were really amazing. The whole time we all kept mentioning how this or that looked like a scene from The Lion King.
The caves were beautiful and they overlooked a large valley. Far in the horizon we could see blue and green mountains. The men who were guiding us were Masai. (Masai are the more traditional village people who live outside of the city I live in and are a huge part of the tourist culture.The Masai have a cheap tourist market and sell beaded bracelets EVERYWHERE.)
These Masai men lived in a village far away from Arusha. The village we passed by, which I am assuming was theirs, was small huts surrounded by a tightly woven stick fence. They didn't speak much English. When we got off and were walking they thought it was pretty funny how slowly I was going down the hill to the cave. I had to laugh and tell them pole pole. I was determined not to fall again. I was just wearing sandals because we weren't aware of how much we would be walking. When we got to the cave mouth one of the Masai started smoking a cigarette. This might be one of my favorite pictures yet. I get a childish satisfaction when i get a truly ironic shot.
We got back on the camels and this time I got my own camel! He was the sweetest camel who was all the way in the back of the caravan. Being in the back was nice because I wasnt crammed in the middle and it was alot quieter (Alex's camel was growling the whole time.)
The guides stopped at a large lion king looking tree and we got off the camels. We sat under the tree and had really good box lunch. There was what seemed to be goat meat, chapati, a banana, an egg, and a mango juice box. When getting back on the camels we were all pretty reluctant. Camel riding is a little exhausting and pretty uncomfortable. We were all laughing because there was a seven day camel safari option on the brochure. Everyone agreed you would have to be insane to pay to sit on a camel for longer than two hours.
This one explains everything
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
ICTR ruling
Early friday morning our class met at the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda. This court is a temporary court set up by the UN in order to prosecute those involved in the 1994 genocide. From what I have understood from East Africans in my class and members of a particular defense team I have discovered a new side to the events in Rwanda. It seems clear to them that the events of 1994 were a double genocide. The international community however seems only to deem one party as responsible. In the court set up only Hutus have been tried and convicted. The understanding I have from my limited knowledge is that for political reasons most western countries support the current government in Rwanda and do not like those that question the role in which they played in the events that transpired after the 1994 genocide.
When we got to the ICTR the courtroom itself was entirely full.We were taken to a back conference room that soon filled up with around a hundred people. We watched the proceedings live in the conference room with UN interns, lawyers, and aids for other cases.
We read up for class on the particular case in which a women and her son were being tried in the court. Pauline Nyiramasuhko was minister of family and women's empowerment in the 1994 government. She was accused of incitement to rape and genocide. The indictment said she lead women knowingly to places that were dangerous and they would be raped or killed, or both. Her son was a member of the interahamwe a youth military group accused of many killings. Both Pauline and her son were convicted of genocide and sentenced to life imprisonment. Pauline barely reacted her face stayed relatively the same the entire morning, making me wonder if she even realized what was transpiring. There were three other convictions made cases I had not read. The other three got 25, 30, and 35 years including time served. THis was interesting because they were all convicted of things to the extent of abetting genocide. I was confused on how you could be convicted of anything related to genocide involvement and get 25 and time served, which in this case meant 15. However I cannot fully understand the rulings on those cases since I did not read the indictment or hear the evidence for or against.
The whole processes took around and hour and a half. It was hard for me to grasp what I had witnessed. I was a part of history which has always been a distance concept in my mind. Watching someone get convicted of such horrible things was unsettling to say the least. Pauline was the first women in history to be convicted of genocide. The magnitude of this case in the international law spectrum I have not begun to fathom.
If you want more information some of the new reports will give you more background
Article on the court case results
When we got to the ICTR the courtroom itself was entirely full.We were taken to a back conference room that soon filled up with around a hundred people. We watched the proceedings live in the conference room with UN interns, lawyers, and aids for other cases.
We read up for class on the particular case in which a women and her son were being tried in the court. Pauline Nyiramasuhko was minister of family and women's empowerment in the 1994 government. She was accused of incitement to rape and genocide. The indictment said she lead women knowingly to places that were dangerous and they would be raped or killed, or both. Her son was a member of the interahamwe a youth military group accused of many killings. Both Pauline and her son were convicted of genocide and sentenced to life imprisonment. Pauline barely reacted her face stayed relatively the same the entire morning, making me wonder if she even realized what was transpiring. There were three other convictions made cases I had not read. The other three got 25, 30, and 35 years including time served. THis was interesting because they were all convicted of things to the extent of abetting genocide. I was confused on how you could be convicted of anything related to genocide involvement and get 25 and time served, which in this case meant 15. However I cannot fully understand the rulings on those cases since I did not read the indictment or hear the evidence for or against.
The whole processes took around and hour and a half. It was hard for me to grasp what I had witnessed. I was a part of history which has always been a distance concept in my mind. Watching someone get convicted of such horrible things was unsettling to say the least. Pauline was the first women in history to be convicted of genocide. The magnitude of this case in the international law spectrum I have not begun to fathom.
If you want more information some of the new reports will give you more background
Article on the court case results
Saturday, June 25, 2011
The Black Panther
Thursday a few of us went to visit an exiled black panther living in the area. At first I was hesitant to go, mostly because of my ignorance and preconceived notions about the Black Panther Party.
We drove for about an hour outside of Arusha. We turned off the main road and drove five km into a rural neighborhood. We passed farms where people were harvesting corn. Deo, a local of Arusha, told me the farms around the area could be a witness to global warming. He has talked to them and they say they know something is different but they wouldnt understand the whole idea of global warming. They would be able to tell you however that they know something is very wrong.
I never thought about that aspect of it all.
Finally the corn fields were replaced by stone walls. The stone walls were covered in graffiti, brightly saying things like "long live the panther."
When we pasted through the gates I was pleasantly surprised. There were colorful murals everywhere, a stage, an outside eating area with some american college students sitting and talking and a horse wandering around quietly.
The panther's wife Charlotte introduced herself with a smile. She was a beautiful older women with her hair pulled back in two buns on either side of her head. She ushered us in and soon introduced us to her husband. He was an older man with dreads. My favorite part was he was wearing the same dorky brown leather crocs as my father wears (everyday..with socks). He told us he knew we were hungry and not just regular hungry, American hungry. So they brought the food, which was really delicious and we all couldn't help but get seconds. We really were American hungry.
After we ate we all sat in chairs around him and listened to him talk. He said he wasn't good at giving speeches but he would answer any questions we had.
He was a very interesting man. His southern accent quickly put me at easy and finding out I was from Georgia he quickly settled in to saying y'all and laughing like we were all good friends.
Ill post the interview for you to hear all the questions.
He is doing alot of good for his community. What I liked the most is that he was humble and not just talking about the rosy aspects of everything. He was realistic and understanding of the other views we might have. I didnt agree with everything he said but I sure did respect it.
After he talked they gave us a tour of the grounds. He had lots of art classrooms his wife was an artist and loved to teach the local children. There was a computer classroom where Mary told us she took classes for free as a teenager. He had a few guest houses where students often came to stay. There was also a school for children most of which were orphans. He said they were his favorite thing. He at first was hesitant and refused to play grandfather. However it seems they won him over quickly and now they watch cartoons together every night, all 23 of them crammed in his bedroom.
I think there was alot to learn in this. It is hard for one not to question his past. However, to see what he has done for the community and his hospitality to our group I was seized by the realization that there is always room for good in the world. It is hard sometimes here in Arusha to fully grasp the poverty and lack of education that clearly affects the citizens. Discussing Human Rights and international law all day in class can be depressing. There are so many problems and the solutions are not always clear. Pete O'Neal's work reminded me that individuals can do something to address the issues and actually make a difference in sometimes desperate situations.
A part of the PBS movie made about him
We drove for about an hour outside of Arusha. We turned off the main road and drove five km into a rural neighborhood. We passed farms where people were harvesting corn. Deo, a local of Arusha, told me the farms around the area could be a witness to global warming. He has talked to them and they say they know something is different but they wouldnt understand the whole idea of global warming. They would be able to tell you however that they know something is very wrong.
I never thought about that aspect of it all.
Finally the corn fields were replaced by stone walls. The stone walls were covered in graffiti, brightly saying things like "long live the panther."
When we pasted through the gates I was pleasantly surprised. There were colorful murals everywhere, a stage, an outside eating area with some american college students sitting and talking and a horse wandering around quietly.
The panther's wife Charlotte introduced herself with a smile. She was a beautiful older women with her hair pulled back in two buns on either side of her head. She ushered us in and soon introduced us to her husband. He was an older man with dreads. My favorite part was he was wearing the same dorky brown leather crocs as my father wears (everyday..with socks). He told us he knew we were hungry and not just regular hungry, American hungry. So they brought the food, which was really delicious and we all couldn't help but get seconds. We really were American hungry.
After we ate we all sat in chairs around him and listened to him talk. He said he wasn't good at giving speeches but he would answer any questions we had.
He was a very interesting man. His southern accent quickly put me at easy and finding out I was from Georgia he quickly settled in to saying y'all and laughing like we were all good friends.
Ill post the interview for you to hear all the questions.
He is doing alot of good for his community. What I liked the most is that he was humble and not just talking about the rosy aspects of everything. He was realistic and understanding of the other views we might have. I didnt agree with everything he said but I sure did respect it.
After he talked they gave us a tour of the grounds. He had lots of art classrooms his wife was an artist and loved to teach the local children. There was a computer classroom where Mary told us she took classes for free as a teenager. He had a few guest houses where students often came to stay. There was also a school for children most of which were orphans. He said they were his favorite thing. He at first was hesitant and refused to play grandfather. However it seems they won him over quickly and now they watch cartoons together every night, all 23 of them crammed in his bedroom.
I think there was alot to learn in this. It is hard for one not to question his past. However, to see what he has done for the community and his hospitality to our group I was seized by the realization that there is always room for good in the world. It is hard sometimes here in Arusha to fully grasp the poverty and lack of education that clearly affects the citizens. Discussing Human Rights and international law all day in class can be depressing. There are so many problems and the solutions are not always clear. Pete O'Neal's work reminded me that individuals can do something to address the issues and actually make a difference in sometimes desperate situations.
A part of the PBS movie made about him
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Zanzibar Weekend
I don't even know where to begin with Zanzibar.
We left Thursday afternoon and came back late Sunday night. Looking out the window is always one of my favorite things about traveling. When looking out the dirty plane window this past Thursday I watched as we flew over the northern mountains of Tanzania and towards the coast out across the Indian ocean. I have never really been in water so turquoise and I was childishly giddy as the pale water came into view. When we arrived at the airport we waited as Emily arranged her flight home. The driver showed up to take us on the hour drive to our hotel. The drive across the island was a little terrifying. The island is scattered with poor areas and crowded intersections. It scares me a little how much i enjoy the thrill of the crazy driving. Taxi drivers seem to be playing a game. In this game it doesn't matter what other vehicles or even people are in the road. The driver will honk a few times and keep their foot on the gas. They just want to get to where they are going as fast as possible.
Interestingly enough this is the only rushing that goes on in the culture at all. You will race your car to a restaurant to wait 15 minutes before you even get a menu or race to the hospital and upon arriving wait an hour until a doctor actually will see you. No one is ever worried about waiting.
PolePole.
Slowly, Slowly.
Finally after flying through many villages and a national park(where the signs warned of monkey crossing) we arrived at the hotel. I could let out my breath as I realized with comfort it was just like the pictures on the website.
I had never been to such a beach. Pure white sand, clear water reflecting the blue sky, bright green plants all around the paths. Zanzibar is nothing like Tybee.
The manager poured the group fresh passion juice. Looking down I realized he wasn't wearing shoes as he showed us the rooms. I followed his example and slipped off my sandals after I had claimed a bed in the bungalow loft. I was sharing the perfect spot with Geroline, a girl in my group from outside New York City.
Soon after arriving we went to eat dinner, which was pasta and crepes with chocolate sauce for dessert.
Every day after I woke up jsut as the sun hit my eyes and rose through the clouds. When looking out the loft porch I could not imagine lying in bed when there was something so beautiful outside. When everyone else slept I walked along the beach and drank tea while the tide went out and the heat of the sun grew on my shoulders.
The first day we discovered a small cafe a few minutes along the beach. This place was my dream home. A tree house on the beach.. what more could someone want?
The cafe and tiny hotel was owned by a recently retired German woman and her much younger Tanzanian boyfriend of fifteen years.( I mean they have been together 15 years... and not that he is 15 years-old)
Only the pictures can describe the amazing house.
I spent most of the weekend walking along the beach looking at all the pretty shells and weird things that had washed up when the tide came in.
On Saturday we went to Stone town.Stone town is the main city and downtown tourist area in Zanzibar. The building structures are mostly of Arab influence and were built under colonial rule. Zanzibar is a huge trading post and because of the Arab influence throughout history most residents of Zanzibar are muslim. The buildings and carvings in the door frames where amazing. Although the colonialism does not exist anymore the town is clearly shaped by western influence and the tourism it attracts. The streets were full of shops and restaurants and being a mzungu can be a bit overwhelming at times.
One of my favorite parts was the local seafood in the park at night. Vendors set up their tables with piles and piles of seafood. It was extremely cheap and they put it back on the grill after you ordered so it it was hot and fresh to eat. It was amazing. I had lobster with grilled bread and for dessert a banana nutela and chocolate sauce all wrapped in a soft dough cooked to order. As the sun went down we watched as young local boys jumped into the water near the park. They shouted and cheered as one after the other they would do one dangerous trick after the other. Sliding into the water close to the concrete wall was always the one that got the tourists gasping and the locals giggling. The feeling all around was such a happy one. People eating good food speaking in many languages laughing and smiling. I would hate to think this is the only time I will be able to go to Zanzibar. Everything about it seemed to spark my interest. The history and the beauty of the setting, the clashing of african tribal with arab and muslim culture which somehow seemed to flow harmoniously was something I would love to further explore.
That night we drove back to the resort and I woke up one last morning with the Zanzibar sunrise.
I had so much left to discover of Zanzibar but I was still satisfied with the small adventure I had managed to squeeze into the weekend. It is days like these that make you realize the blessings you are granted in life. I have damn good parents.
We left Thursday afternoon and came back late Sunday night. Looking out the window is always one of my favorite things about traveling. When looking out the dirty plane window this past Thursday I watched as we flew over the northern mountains of Tanzania and towards the coast out across the Indian ocean. I have never really been in water so turquoise and I was childishly giddy as the pale water came into view. When we arrived at the airport we waited as Emily arranged her flight home. The driver showed up to take us on the hour drive to our hotel. The drive across the island was a little terrifying. The island is scattered with poor areas and crowded intersections. It scares me a little how much i enjoy the thrill of the crazy driving. Taxi drivers seem to be playing a game. In this game it doesn't matter what other vehicles or even people are in the road. The driver will honk a few times and keep their foot on the gas. They just want to get to where they are going as fast as possible.
Interestingly enough this is the only rushing that goes on in the culture at all. You will race your car to a restaurant to wait 15 minutes before you even get a menu or race to the hospital and upon arriving wait an hour until a doctor actually will see you. No one is ever worried about waiting.
PolePole.
Slowly, Slowly.
Finally after flying through many villages and a national park(where the signs warned of monkey crossing) we arrived at the hotel. I could let out my breath as I realized with comfort it was just like the pictures on the website.
I had never been to such a beach. Pure white sand, clear water reflecting the blue sky, bright green plants all around the paths. Zanzibar is nothing like Tybee.
The manager poured the group fresh passion juice. Looking down I realized he wasn't wearing shoes as he showed us the rooms. I followed his example and slipped off my sandals after I had claimed a bed in the bungalow loft. I was sharing the perfect spot with Geroline, a girl in my group from outside New York City.
Soon after arriving we went to eat dinner, which was pasta and crepes with chocolate sauce for dessert.
Every day after I woke up jsut as the sun hit my eyes and rose through the clouds. When looking out the loft porch I could not imagine lying in bed when there was something so beautiful outside. When everyone else slept I walked along the beach and drank tea while the tide went out and the heat of the sun grew on my shoulders.
The first day we discovered a small cafe a few minutes along the beach. This place was my dream home. A tree house on the beach.. what more could someone want?
The cafe and tiny hotel was owned by a recently retired German woman and her much younger Tanzanian boyfriend of fifteen years.( I mean they have been together 15 years... and not that he is 15 years-old)
Only the pictures can describe the amazing house.
I spent most of the weekend walking along the beach looking at all the pretty shells and weird things that had washed up when the tide came in.
On Saturday we went to Stone town.Stone town is the main city and downtown tourist area in Zanzibar. The building structures are mostly of Arab influence and were built under colonial rule. Zanzibar is a huge trading post and because of the Arab influence throughout history most residents of Zanzibar are muslim. The buildings and carvings in the door frames where amazing. Although the colonialism does not exist anymore the town is clearly shaped by western influence and the tourism it attracts. The streets were full of shops and restaurants and being a mzungu can be a bit overwhelming at times.
One of my favorite parts was the local seafood in the park at night. Vendors set up their tables with piles and piles of seafood. It was extremely cheap and they put it back on the grill after you ordered so it it was hot and fresh to eat. It was amazing. I had lobster with grilled bread and for dessert a banana nutela and chocolate sauce all wrapped in a soft dough cooked to order. As the sun went down we watched as young local boys jumped into the water near the park. They shouted and cheered as one after the other they would do one dangerous trick after the other. Sliding into the water close to the concrete wall was always the one that got the tourists gasping and the locals giggling. The feeling all around was such a happy one. People eating good food speaking in many languages laughing and smiling. I would hate to think this is the only time I will be able to go to Zanzibar. Everything about it seemed to spark my interest. The history and the beauty of the setting, the clashing of african tribal with arab and muslim culture which somehow seemed to flow harmoniously was something I would love to further explore.
That night we drove back to the resort and I woke up one last morning with the Zanzibar sunrise.
I had so much left to discover of Zanzibar but I was still satisfied with the small adventure I had managed to squeeze into the weekend. It is days like these that make you realize the blessings you are granted in life. I have damn good parents.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Tuesday Rain in Africa
Monday, June 13, 2011
Village: USA
After we got back to the house I went and found Moira. Moira lives in an apartment attached the house. Moria takes care of all of the house things like food and telling us when we need to be where. Moria takes very good care of us.
I knocked on her door and showed her my leg. She immediately told me that I had to go to the hospital because of how dirty the wound seemed to be. She called a taxi while I showered and found purified water to wash it off as much as I could. When I climbed into the taxi I was exhausted from the hike and dreading the long wait I had heard would be inevitable at the Tanzanian Hospital. On the way there I thought of how to nicely tell everyone one at home the story. Through the taxi window I got to see alot of Arusha I had never seen before. The road around the hospital was a dirt road with lots of bumps and pot holes. I became a little nervous when we approached the gate and a security guard used a metal detector wand on the edges of the car.
The hospital facility put me at ease when I realized it was clean and calm. We went to the front desk and I filled out a card.
Surname, other names, father's name,....village?, date of birth, sex, ..tribe?, years.
This was going to be an interesting adventure.
After I filled out my card I took it to the other window where I paid 5000 shillings $3.13 U.S for the consultation. I Walked to a room and waited to be weighed and have my temperature taken by a nurse. I was a little nervous about putting the thermometer in my mouth just because I was still thinking about how I have always been told you do not want to go to the doctor in any other country. To my surprise the nurse put the thermometer under my arm pit and I laughed a little and realized I needed to stop worrying so much.
Next, I moved into another waiting room with only a few other people. Moira told me usually it took awhile and that we were lucky that it wasn't too crowded tonight. However it was probably going to take longer than an American hospital. I settled down in a chair and watched the T.V in the corner. It was a 90s american biblical game show for teens. Cher was blaring from a car outside. Moira started dancing to keep herself awake. By this time I had realized that Moira had done this a few times. The people at the different counters seemed to recognize her. She was admittedly very impatient and the biblical game show didnt seem to keep her occupied.
Finally after fourty-five mins I was called into a back room. It seemed all of my information was already processed on their computer system and the doctor checked my leg and typed in more information from his desk.
He looked at my shot record and decided everything was okay. He was okay at english but it was clearly not his first language. He told me one of my cuts would need two stitches in order to heal nicely. He quickly subscribed me pain killers and antibiotics so that it wouldn't get infected.
Back outside we went. I paid 24,000 at the window for the medicine and then they ushered me to another window to pick them up.
Then I walked back to the back room and waited to be called back for stitches. A few minutes later he was ready. This time he wouldn't let Moira in the room and I got a little nervous again. I have never had stitches and I found myself wondering what kind of strength the numbing medicine was going to be and if I would have that at all for such a minor wound. The doctor and the nurse started preparing everything and pulling out needles. They spoke fast swahili to each other and I started to feel tense. The doctor poked and cleaned my cuts. That might have been the most painful part all of the scrubbing and tugging. Then he injected around the big cut some sort of numbing medicine... and the rest is kind of gross honestly. I looked for a bit but it wasn't very pretty. No need to tell you about it poetically I'm sure you can imagine.
He ended up only giving me one stitch and wrapping up my leg. Then I just got up and walked out. No extra charge for the stitch yet...maybe when i go to get it out?
Next we went to the supermarket and bought the house milk, eggs, water, etc. I bought myself some chocolate I felt I earned it after such a long day.
Next we went by Moira's house and I met her sister and mother. Moira wanted to pick up some food her mother prepared her and I sat in the living room while she packaged it up. Moria's mother was great. She gave me fresh squeezed orange juice with no sugar, pulp, or water added.
Then we hopped back in the taxi and went back to the house.
Tonight I can take off the bandage. It really was pretty pleasant as far as hospital experiences go. No tears and only a moderate amount of blood. All in all not a bad african hospital trip.
The hospital paper work
My wrapped knee.
It looks like a war wound.
That colored spot on the bandage is iodine not blood or infection just so no one freaks out.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Falling down Mt.Meru
Yesterday was the most adventurous yet. I can't begin to describe everything but here is my humble attempt.
We all woke up at 7:45 and put on our hiking gear. I pulled on my new nikes, the always fashionable zip off waterproof pants, and my equally attractive teal PFG. Alex and I shared a pack with just water and a few other items. Then as the city was waking up we walked into town to meet our hiking guides. Baraki and Tosh were in their twenties and full of energy. Baraki was a friend of Nick's, a boy who is still living in our house who was a student last semester at Arcadia. Baraki quickly ushered us through the city bustle. Not too far off the main road we crossed the busy street and went down a dirt road lined with small shops and houses. We stayed on the same dirt road most of the hike. As we climbed higher the houses became more spread out and the dusty shops turned to green fields and banana trees. The town was starting to disappear from the horizon behind us and the air became a little cooler. While walking up we talked to our guides and said "Mambo! and Habari?" to anyone who would respond. The little kids lined the road to laugh and run away from our group as we approached. Baraki walked beside me a while and taught me new words and expressed his love for bananas and told me how determined he was to find the freshest ones by the time we reached the top. Sure enough as we reached the final fork in the road he stopped at a woman's house and bargained the purchase of twenty or so of the best bananas I have ever eaten. As he talked to the women I said as much swahili as I knew trying to convince her adorable and terrified son that I was friendly. Through the bushes he peered his head out and answered my elementary questions and then darted off into the yard with a timid smile.
We continued up the road and stopped at a watering hole. Tosh joked that we had arrived at the waterfall and I embarrassingly thought he was serious but didnt want to be rude despite my disappointment. Markani... so gullible.
We then went into the woods and started walking down. At the next turn we met a group of Tanzanians who warned us of the ants that had just covered them completely. Roger, the Ugandan in our class, told us that these ants "crawl to your hidden areas and wait and bite all at once." Of course everyone started jumping up and down and running around terrified of this idea. Soon we all followed our guides down a slippery muddy path. The path was extremely steep and everyone was sliding and stumbling through the brush. finally we came to the opening and into a clearing where a stream was and we began to use the path as our new path to the waterfall.
The stream was something out of a movie. There were vines strung from the overhanging cliffs, strange bird and frog noises, and the water rushing by as we jumped back and forth over the stream. We met more people along the way and had interesting dilemmas at certain places in the path trying to make sure everyone could get across. At one point there was only an option to climb a small waterfall and step on fallen branches slippery with the passing water. Finally we reached the waterfall. It was beautiful and stood almost 500 feet above us. The locals dove into the freezing water and were shivering when they emerged. After some time being there we started back to eat lunch at a quieter spot. Through the jungle we went again this time more confident leaping from rock to rock. After lunch we went up the slippery path again, which at some points was more like rock climbing because of the angle. Finally at the top we walked again on the dusty road this time with more of a skip in our step because our promised reward, a local banana beer, was soon waiting at a nearby store.
While talking to Tosh and a few other girls ten yards from the store I slipped down the side of road at a no more than two foot embankment. Rocks cut the side of my leg and quickly Tosh pulled out the bigger ones. Kendall, a girl in my class, quickly pulled out a first aid kit and helped me clean the cuts. I wrapped my leg in a bandanna and got the blood to stop dripping. When I looked up a crowd of children had gathered and were staring wide eyed at my leg. I mustered a smile and hopped to the store, where they tried to convince me to drink more beer to make my leg less of a problem. ....Banana beer is 10% alcohol I was not convinced hobbling down the mountain on more banana beers was the best idea. We sat a good while at the store and slowly were surrounded by kids, cows, and goats.
The beer kind of tasted like the fermented tea, Kombucha. It was okay but once I realized kombucha was the familiar taste I wasn't very excited. Azure, another friend, gave a few kids some candies. The youngest who couldnt have been any more than three sat struggling to open theirs across the road on a hill. I walked over and tried to help. Bariki had to tell them in swahili I was trying to help because they became scared I wanted the candies back. Slowly they realized and handed them back and were pleased to have some help with the confusing wrapper.
We decided it was time to walk back and started along the same road down back to the city.
PART TWO the hospital coming soon..( im tired im posting this unedited for now will fix and finish tomorrow)
We all woke up at 7:45 and put on our hiking gear. I pulled on my new nikes, the always fashionable zip off waterproof pants, and my equally attractive teal PFG. Alex and I shared a pack with just water and a few other items. Then as the city was waking up we walked into town to meet our hiking guides. Baraki and Tosh were in their twenties and full of energy. Baraki was a friend of Nick's, a boy who is still living in our house who was a student last semester at Arcadia. Baraki quickly ushered us through the city bustle. Not too far off the main road we crossed the busy street and went down a dirt road lined with small shops and houses. We stayed on the same dirt road most of the hike. As we climbed higher the houses became more spread out and the dusty shops turned to green fields and banana trees. The town was starting to disappear from the horizon behind us and the air became a little cooler. While walking up we talked to our guides and said "Mambo! and Habari?" to anyone who would respond. The little kids lined the road to laugh and run away from our group as we approached. Baraki walked beside me a while and taught me new words and expressed his love for bananas and told me how determined he was to find the freshest ones by the time we reached the top. Sure enough as we reached the final fork in the road he stopped at a woman's house and bargained the purchase of twenty or so of the best bananas I have ever eaten. As he talked to the women I said as much swahili as I knew trying to convince her adorable and terrified son that I was friendly. Through the bushes he peered his head out and answered my elementary questions and then darted off into the yard with a timid smile.
We continued up the road and stopped at a watering hole. Tosh joked that we had arrived at the waterfall and I embarrassingly thought he was serious but didnt want to be rude despite my disappointment. Markani... so gullible.
We then went into the woods and started walking down. At the next turn we met a group of Tanzanians who warned us of the ants that had just covered them completely. Roger, the Ugandan in our class, told us that these ants "crawl to your hidden areas and wait and bite all at once." Of course everyone started jumping up and down and running around terrified of this idea. Soon we all followed our guides down a slippery muddy path. The path was extremely steep and everyone was sliding and stumbling through the brush. finally we came to the opening and into a clearing where a stream was and we began to use the path as our new path to the waterfall.
The stream was something out of a movie. There were vines strung from the overhanging cliffs, strange bird and frog noises, and the water rushing by as we jumped back and forth over the stream. We met more people along the way and had interesting dilemmas at certain places in the path trying to make sure everyone could get across. At one point there was only an option to climb a small waterfall and step on fallen branches slippery with the passing water. Finally we reached the waterfall. It was beautiful and stood almost 500 feet above us. The locals dove into the freezing water and were shivering when they emerged. After some time being there we started back to eat lunch at a quieter spot. Through the jungle we went again this time more confident leaping from rock to rock. After lunch we went up the slippery path again, which at some points was more like rock climbing because of the angle. Finally at the top we walked again on the dusty road this time with more of a skip in our step because our promised reward, a local banana beer, was soon waiting at a nearby store.
While talking to Tosh and a few other girls ten yards from the store I slipped down the side of road at a no more than two foot embankment. Rocks cut the side of my leg and quickly Tosh pulled out the bigger ones. Kendall, a girl in my class, quickly pulled out a first aid kit and helped me clean the cuts. I wrapped my leg in a bandanna and got the blood to stop dripping. When I looked up a crowd of children had gathered and were staring wide eyed at my leg. I mustered a smile and hopped to the store, where they tried to convince me to drink more beer to make my leg less of a problem. ....Banana beer is 10% alcohol I was not convinced hobbling down the mountain on more banana beers was the best idea. We sat a good while at the store and slowly were surrounded by kids, cows, and goats.
The beer kind of tasted like the fermented tea, Kombucha. It was okay but once I realized kombucha was the familiar taste I wasn't very excited. Azure, another friend, gave a few kids some candies. The youngest who couldnt have been any more than three sat struggling to open theirs across the road on a hill. I walked over and tried to help. Bariki had to tell them in swahili I was trying to help because they became scared I wanted the candies back. Slowly they realized and handed them back and were pleased to have some help with the confusing wrapper.
We decided it was time to walk back and started along the same road down back to the city.
PART TWO the hospital coming soon..( im tired im posting this unedited for now will fix and finish tomorrow)
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