Spring Break Safari...

This past week we embarked on a journey. A safari actually, which means journey in Swahili, but for all you who don't know Kiswahili you probably just think of lions, cheetahs, and zebras.... Oh my! ... My apologies for the really cheesy wizard of Oz reference there. Anyhoo, it was an amazing experience. We saw countless birds, animals, and plants. Gorgeous scenery, and met some amazing people. We went to a few different places, Terengera, lake manyara, Oldupai gorge ( also known as Olduvai, but the actual name is Oldupai) and Ngorongoro crater. I will write about each of these places separately because if I tried to write about them all now I would miss the beautiful scenery passing by my window as we head back to Arusha for about 2 more weeks of work and then a rural village stay, and then off to Dar Es Salam for the remainder of April... And then home. Crazy really, you always here time flies, and everything is gone before you know it... And to some existent it is totally true. But on the other hand it isn't. I'm finding that trips are what you make of them, as seem to be many instances in life. I feel like I have certainly been making the most of this trip, or at least trying too, especially with spending a quarter of it rather ill. So, I think I will be ready to go back to the US when May rolls around, but then again maybe not. Talking with one of my professors revealed to me that I could stay and extend my ticket... She said this is because once the plane leaves the ground the university is no longer responsible for me. I wish I would have known that earlier, a pit stop in Europe might be nice. ;p but maybe I am best to just save some more money and comeback soon. I can certainly see that in my future, traveling that is. And Africa. I think I would like to come back here someday. After all, I never did get to see a leopard... 

Oldupai Gorge - The Cradle of Mankind.

Some old tools and fossils

The cast of the footprints.

The surrounding area near the Gorge

Oldupai Gorge

Oldupai Gorge, more commonly known as Olduvai Gorge (Due to a misinterpretation of a local Maasai word  for the Seizle plant by the German entomologist who named it)  and was one of the first stops on our Safari. On the edge of the Serengeti, Oldupai and the Laetoli archaeological site which is the place where the Mary Leakey  found the footprints of Australopithecus afarensis. Australopithecus afarensis was a small-brained upright walking hominid creature that was alive 3.6 million years ago and the same species as the famous ‘Lucy’ skeleton found in Ethiopia. These creatures didn’t use tools, and were only about a meter and a half high. Mary and Louis Leakey are also credited with finding that 4 other types of hominids in the area as well. They confirmed that the area was inhabited by Homo habilis about 1.9 million years ago, Parathropus boisei 1.8 million years ago, Homo erectus 1.2 million years ago, and Homo sapiens 17,000 years ago. The Leakey’s spent 28 years of their life in the area and their old campsite is now used today as a research center. There is also a museum, with detailed exhibits giving all the information, fossils of animals, partial skulls, tools, and a cast of the footprints Mary found. Outside the museum there is a covered area where you can look down into the gorge and get a short lecture from a guide. Oldupai is located in the Eastern Serengeti, west of the Ngorongoro crater, in the Great Rift Valley. ( Side note: Every time I heard Great Rift Valley all I could think of was the Land Before Time and all of the dinosaurs looking for the Great Valley if you don’t know what I am talking about you may not have had a proper childhood.)

It was an amazing place to be and I wish we had more time to really take it all in. As we listened to the guide we could hear the roar of thunder coming in. I could hear the wind passing through the canyon and it began to softly rain. It was amazing, to be in a place where people, and pre-people like creatures walked, lived, hunted, ran away from lava… (Haha, I made myself laugh when I imagined that…Now you’re probably laughing too, or you’re not and you think my sense of humor is weird… Which it is, oh well…Anyways…) It was almost surreal, actually, no it was surreal and I found myself zoning out and just listening to the weather and wondering what it might have been like for those so long ago who walked there. I wondered how different it looked, or how similar. In English I really don’t have the words to describe how I felt, and I certainly don’t have them in Kiswahili… But it was amazing; it was like the realization that human kind is much bigger, and more complex and somehow more connected than I ever really understood before. I really wished we had more time than the 5 minutes of quiet post-presentation to just take it in. I hope to someday come back here and if I can hike through the canyon, and do more research so I can really appreciate it more. Ha, I guess this is just another reason I need to come back. :P 

Thunder on the roof tops.

Here is a picture of Kristin my lovely roommate and our host sister Sharon. 

Kristin's blog is here: http://kristinswanderingheart.wordpress.com/

Well, it certainly sounds like that. Though I am very aware that thunder is a sound and not something that can physically be on a roof… But tin roofs and African rain are a combination that will be hard to forget. It is rainy season now, and the skies lately have been dark and gloomy and rain can come at any moment, which is a bit disconcerting news for someone who has to walk a mile or so to work everyday. And when I say rain, I do not mean the rain we have in the Northwest U.S.A, even in the areas where we get lots of rain. No, the rain here is more like God turning on the garden hose right on top of Africa. The raindrops are HUGE, and within about 2 minutes of downpour one can go from fairly decent looking, to week old drowned rat. Luckily the rain seems to only last 15-30 minutes on average and then all that is left is the aftermath. By aftermath I mean mud. Walking becomes an exciting adventure of sliding here and there and not falling.  As an Oregonian I pride myself in my ability to navigate mud, but the mud here is made from dirt that is so fine and so dry that it becomes these multi-layers of slippery goo that are quite difficult to keep ones footing on. Though, thus far I have not fully fallen flat on my face from slipping on mud… There have been other times though where I have fallen, but in those instances I am generally tripping over my own feet or falling up the stars… But if you know me at all you will know that that is quite an average occurrence in my everyday life… Clumsy I may be, slipping in mud I do not. Ha, not thus far anyways.*knocks on wood*…

Anyhoo, the rain here is certainly something to behold. It is beautiful, even though it is quite destructive. When it rains the entire world hides, people stop what they are doing and run for cover…  And I am among them, because by drowned rat I literally mean soaked to the skin, which is fine unless you need to spend the entire day in your clothes… And since everything runs on ‘Africa Time’ it is perfectly reasonable to say you were late from the rain. While the rain is fierce, I would be lying if I say I didn’t somehow love it. All of the weather here is extreme and exciting, the skies are beautiful, and the clouds… Don’t even get my started on the clouds. All of the other students make fun of me and my obsession with the clouds and sunsets. But I have no shame. They are so beautiful, and seeing lightning gash through them and then listening to the roaring thunder is something to behold.  If it wasn’t for anything else I could probably stay here in Africa just for the skies. 

Some thoughts on life... and other meanderings of my mind.

Everyday on my commute I walk through my little neighborhood to the main road. There I join the other commuters on their way to work, I hop on a Dala Dala (the public transit) and try to sit as near to the front as possible. I hug my bag and try to not be too much in the way. To date I have yet to take a Dala where I am the only non-African, but it isn’t so bad. I am use to the stares and just try to ignore it as much as possible. After signaling the conductor that I want to get off, I get off pay my 400 shillings and walk the remaining 30 or so minutes along the main road to work. On your average day I will have about 10 or 15 people try to talk to me and un countable stares, the people that talk to me generally just  say a quick “Habari” or “ Jambo!” But this week the common them has been the annoying call of “ Mzungu! Madame Mzungu! Lady Mzungu! Hey you MZUNGU!”… To which I generally just keep walking, head down, no eye contact. *Cue Les Mis song “Look Down”* Saying Mzungu to us may seem very rude as it literally means “White person” or more historically means “One who walks in circles, or is dizzy.” Because when the white settlers came here they were all over the place and kept walking in circles and getting lost. So, now today white people are called Mzungu. To the local people here they don’t seem to think it to be terribly rude, or impolite. Though at first I was fairly certain it was rather rude… and I still wonder… But Se La Vi. The annoying thing for me is how it is said; it can be genuinely kind, friendly, and in the case of a little kid very excited (There is nothing cuter than a 3 year old trying to pronounce M-zun-gu with a giant smile on their face.) But sometimes it sounds derogatory, rude, and generally makes one feel very uncomfortable. I can’t help but think “Yes, yes I know I am white, thank you for pointing it out… I might have forgotten… OH WAIT, I CAN’T. YOU ALL STARE AT ME!” The worst is when it is younger men… or creepy old men… “Mzungu pendeza!”… I think, “White girl is pretty? Really that is all you got? How often does that actually work for you?” … Maybe I should try that next time I find some white guy attractive… “ Hey, hey you man. Man with less melanin in your skin than people with dark skin. Hey, you’re attractive…” Yeah, because that is gonna work. HA! Well, I guess its best I keep my sense of humor to myself. All that said it has occurred to me just how much I didn’t know about how it feels to be a minority. Growing up as a middleclass white girl really sheltered me from the perspective I have now. It also really makes me empathize with those who are not a majority. Even though I dislike all this attention, I am trying my best to embrace it and learn from it. Those of us in the majority never really think of the whole minority thing. But now, I know how it feels to have people assume things about me, they assume I am rich, I am American, I will pay way more for anything in the market, I will probably give them money, I am only here to buy things and go on Safari, and I don’t understand or know any Swahili or cultural customs. It is frustrating, but very eye opening. And I have a whole other level of respect now for those to deal with that on a daily basis.  It is a different world here, and I am not just speaking form the fact that it is a developing country.  Don’t get me wrong, I am loving my experiences here and my personal growth.  But I am in a place so different it is impossible to describe how different it is. I have found that my inner strength is far greater than I would have imagined possible, for example while in Zanzibar when I was on day 10 or so of being very sick I was in the bathroom, trying desperately to keep down the food that I had just eaten and between bouts of throwing up I was looking up at the moldy mildew covered walls and listening to the call to prayer and honestly the only thing that came into my head was how beautiful I thought that sound was. I am not Muslim nor do I know any Arabic but a greeting or two, but I found that I could truly appreciate the significance of the words being sung. They were words that had been sung for thousands of years… And I had the opportunity to experience it firsthand… Pretty amazing… And all of this wonderful revelation was had while doubled over a half broken European toilet in 100 degree weather with 90% humidy on day 10 of being violently ill… I figured out rather early on that I was going to feel sick for most of my time there and that regardless of how horrible I felt I was going to enjoy my experiences and learn. Which is much easier said than done.

I don’t think before this trip I would have been able to appreciate such things. But thank goodness the anti-biotics seem to be working and my month or so of feeling horrible appears to be over. I highly suggest that if anyone comes to Africa that you come prepared with  anti-diarrhea, anti-gas, anti-acid, laxative, and the knowledge that YOU WILL USE ALL OF THESE at some point. Just face it, it will happen. If I have gained anything from this trip (and I have gained a lot thus far and I am just at the halfway point) It is a giant dose of perspective, humility and appreciation. 

On a lighter note I have also discovered that Snickers candy bars seem to be the best cure for homesickness… And really good coffee… As I am typing this I am drinking probably the best coffee I have ever had grown right here on the farm where I work.  Life is good. J

Birthday in a Boma...

Wow, such a crazy past few weeks. I am now back in Arusha and interning at Shanga Shangaa (www.Shanga.org/) There I am working on marketing and looking for possible prospect customers in the U.S and Europe. I spend many hours on the computer, but it is fairly interesting and the business is an amazing place. The rough overview of the Shanga mission is the idea of employing and empowering disabled Tanzanians. The business currently employs 57 workers and creates jewelry, clothing, glassware, greeting signs; the list goes on and on. Most of the materials used to make products are recycled, meaning not only does Shanga employ and empower but it is also ecologically responsible.  They also have amazing food and coffee that is to die for.

This past weekend my group headed out to Longido to stay at a Maasai Boma, there we learned about Maasai culture and how the Maasai people live today.  The Maasai are a group of people who traditionally live in huts made of sticks and cow dung with a giant surrounding fence made of bramble. One Boma houses an extrended family, uncles, aunt, fathers, mother’s, etc. The Maasai don’t have chiefs but rather have age sects that people are born into and grow up with. These sects have stages of initiation and help govern and protect the traditional Maasai way of life. The Maasai raise sheep, goats, and cattle and are known for their beautiful jewelry and traditional clothing (and more uncommonly known for their terrific knowledge of where things are.)  There are of course Maasai that live in modern houses and dress modernly, but there are also Maasai who still live the same way their ancestors have for 100s of years. No electricity, no running water, no cars, no modern conveniences… Well,except cell phones. They do have cell phones,  which is a bit puzzling to me because they have no power outlets to charge them, I am wondering if they might have solar chargers or something like that. Anyways, the weekend was amazing despite the lack of warm blankets, soft beds, and actual bathrooms. It was like extreme camping, with cows. Not too bad if you ask me, we watched them slaughter a goat, and as we ate it the sun went down leaving us a spectacular African sunset.  That night we sat around the fire and taught the kids camp songs and looked at the stars.

The next day I woke up to watch the sunrise, which seemed only like the appropriate thing to do on my 20^th birthday, and the only reason I would ever really want to get up before 6 am.  Ohh wait, did I not mention that yet? I am 20 now, and I spent most of the first day of my 20s in a Maasai Boma surrounded by donkeys, cows, lambs, and baby goats…  If any of you don’t know me too well I should probably tell you that this was probably the most perfect and ideal way to spend my birthday due to my strong affection small ruminants and adorable ungulates. We also attended a Maasai church and held 2 week old puppies. Kristin also saw a Giraffe, but I was too engrossed in looking at the hills during the bus ride and missed it entirely, but oh well. This next weekend we are going on Safari, so I suppose I will make up for my lack of giraffe seeing there.

It is amazing to me how complicated we live, I mean I am currently writing this post because the internet at my work is not being compliant to us employees, and I just had a coke and texted my roommate about meeting for coffee after work… Anyone who is reading this is at a computer, on a smart phone or some other internet capable device and is actually spending their time reading about my current life in Africa. I have grown up with no worries about food, water, clothes, housing, I mean financially my family has not always been on the bright side, but we have never been in need. I attend an amazing University and have access to knowledge, opportunity, clothes, and freedoms I didn’t even know I had. I have been coming to the realization that my entire life I have been blessed beyond belief and have taken for granted and even complained about things I didn’t like. It baffles me now that I use to beg my parents for channels on our TV and not just movies. Many of the people here in Africa, not just the Maasai live with much less than electricity let alone a TV with channels. Power outages are common; nearly everyone takes some form of public transportation that varies in safety from type to type but as a general rule is high-risk, and rather dangerous. People don’t have closets of clothes, or lots of furniture, they just have what they need. In the US we are always told we have so much, but I cannot emphasize enough the reality of that truth. We live in such abundance that some people cannot even imagine and we have no clue. All that said, the Maasai (and in general many of the people) I met/meet are the kindest, happiest, people.  They are far more grateful than anyone I have met before this trip and have more integrity than many people I know. It astounds me.

To be honest even though we didn’t have bathrooms, blankets, running water, electricity, or really anything that would be normally conducive to “normal life”  I could probably have lived in the Boma much longer then a night, I would have really liked to study the culture more closely and been able to ask more questions. Maasai still have their native Maasai tongue, and  only a few that we met knew Swahili and none in the Boma we stayed at knew English. But I can learn right?

 It was a bit like stepping into National Geographic, very un-real feeling. But very very cool, while I am only 20 and have no idea where my life is heading as a social science/ art major I have a feeling that I would quite enjoy staying in a Boma for a time and learning more about the Maasai culture and society.  So, maybe someday I will be back. J

SHEEP AND GOATS!

The head of the family in the boma. I didn't catch his name but he was very kind and knew a little Swahili. 

Me and a day or two old baby goat! :) I kept getting flashbacks from my earlier sheep raising days. :) 

Most of the area looked like this, red dirt, Lion King trees... And yes, in my mind they are called Lion King trees. Some areas had more shrubbery but for the most part this is what it looked like all around the boma. 

The outer wall of the boma and Longido mountain. 

A hut inside the boma. 

Beautiful sunset.