We've Got Everything We Need Right Here

.... and everything we need is enough. (Banana Pancakes - Jack Johnson)

This morning we slept until the glorious hour of 9, no nasty bells or roosters could wake us. We strolled downstairs in our pj's, ready for a Sunday of relaxation! We made the most amazing banana pancakes, with scrambled eggs and bacon. D-e-luxe. After a quick clean up, we changed into our bathing suits ready to embrace the African sun. We chose to go to Kigongoni Lodge, which is just outside of Arusha..With only five of us now, plus Ronnie and Moses (coordinators), it was sure a quiet get away.. Missing our project crew, and the room is most definitely a lot emptier without Naveen and Brooke! Hope Canada is treating you ladies well.. Isaacs cooking has improved dramatically. Just kidding. We just get more salad now!

Kigongoni Lodge is paradise. They allow people to lounge by their pool for free, which is incredibly generous. We were the only people there all day, with the spectacular view of Kilimanjaro to entrance us. I had to lie on my stomach because it's still recovering from the last weekend in the sun. Today my back is in about the same position as my stomach was before. You'd think I'd learn.. Oh well, it'll keep my bed warm tonight!

After our day of Tusker, Kilimanjaro (the local beers) and sun, we headed home. I rode on the back of Ronnie's motorcycle, the whole time thinking about how much my mom would disapprove. Ronnie in his sandals and board-shorts, and me in my flip flops and capris. We both had on helmets, but something just seemed strange! Things like this just make me think T.I.A., and not Canada.

We napped then decided to order in our Sunday dinner. We got pizza from Maasai Cafe, french fries from the restaurant/pub (this is Africa, so don't think like Barley Mill or any type of Canadian pub, more like an outdoor plastic furniture kind of thing), and boiled some hotdogs. Hello america. We even had homemade banana chocolate chip muffins for dessert, which were amazing. Here's a little more on what it's like to live in Tanzania;

1,400 Tanzanian shillings = $1

1 Kilimanjaro or Tusker beer = 1,100 TSH

6 Bananas = 500 TSH

Taxi to town = 3,000 TSH

Dala dala to town = 250 TSH

Souvenir T Shirt = 5,500 TSH

Cell phone = 40,000 TSH

Test message = 40 TSH

1.5 L Water = 1,000 TSH

Loaf of bread = 250 - 500 TSH

Antibiotics for pneumonia and ringworm = 4,000 TSH

Average wage = 300,000 TSH/Month

Government workers wage = 6 million TSH/Month

Gas = 1,400 TSH/Litre

I would also love to hear what you want to know about life here! Leave me a comment! I just get so wrapped up in it and completely forget that so much of what happens here is really not normal in my Canadian lifestyle. Also, the organization I'm here with is Volunteer Abroad, and I'm working with the local organization LOHADA, Loving Hands for the Disadvantaged and Aged..

Already counting down the days until my family and the Brickenden's come! It will be amazing to have more people to share my adventure with.

84 Negative

Thursday Juliet and I ventured to Unga Limited. In Swahili, unga means flour and the community of Unga Limited is built around a flour factory. It is the poorest community in Arusha, and it is also where Camp Joshua is located. From Camp Moses it took Juliet and I one hour and two dala dala’s to get there.

The second dala dala took us down the worst dirt road I’ve ever seen. In no place was the ground even and there were potholes the size of small craters every few feet. The majority of the children who live in Unga Limited are not able to afford even the uniforms to attend the free government schools, so sit on the side of the roads and watch cars pass all day. All of the houses in the community are made from logs, and the ones belonging to a family with a little bit of money are made with logs and mud in-between the logs. Some are simply made from cardboard, which gets destroyed in the frequent rain, or tin siding. When it rains the road completely inaccessible, as the puddles of water and ankle deep mud won’t let any person or vehicle pass through. At the end of the road was Camp Joshua.

The plot of land the school sits on is very big. It already has 7 classrooms and a kitchen, as well as a dormitory for the children that sleep there. The cows even have a little hut for when it rains. There are cement outlines of the extra classrooms that will be built at the end of the summer already set, and the kids have a good size playing field in the middle of everything. This description may make the place seem suitable, even adequate for their learning. Now go back through and subtract any type of electricity, plumbing, or finished walls you may have added. It is dirty. Despite this, the kids are gorgeous and happy and optimistic. They know how fortunate they are to be receiving a good education and food throughout the day. Some even get the added bonus of a safe and warm place to sleep at night. Unga Limited and Camp Joshua are tough places to be and leave a person mentally, physically and emotionally drained.

After a few hours in U.L., Juliet and I headed back to Moshono, the area of Arusha that Camp Moses is in. On the way, we stopped off at Mama Wambura’s house to look at her pigs. They were massive and smelt really bad. The woman needs the pigs gone asap.

We arrived at Camp Moses just in time for some ugali and spinach. I’m actually starting to (almost) enjoy ugali, which I never thought would happen. Teacher Juliet and I made a plan of attack for figuring out the tangled mess of the sponsorship program and then headed home.

Friday morning we at the white house, awoke to our first Tanzanian rain day. When after two hours the rain had not stopped, we all agreed there was really no point in going anywhere. It was a much-needed lounge and catch up day! We finished the night of watching Super Troopers and eating stove popped popcorn. Lots of the group of nine that were presenting left today. The house has gone from 23 or so to 7! It is strangely quiet. New volunteers come next week

Today, Saturday, was project day. Cassie and the rest of the crew left here went to her orphanage to prepare the ground for a vegetable garden, and I went to my orphanage for the big HIV/AIDS test. The children are supposed to be tested every three months, but had not been tested for two years.

When I arrived shortly after nine, I was greeted by all of the children who board at Camp Joshua as well as my Camp Moses babies. In total, there were 83 children and 8 mama’s plus myself and Teacher Juliet, and some of the other teachers. It was a very busy place. The testers had said they would be at the camp by 10, so this meant we had a few hours before they actually showed up. TIA. The children were treated t

o some Saturday morning cartoons, and all sat on the floor sipping their porridge. When 11 o clock came and there were still no testers, we brought out the books and had story time for a while. Finally two men showed up with all the gear to test our children.

One by one the kids were called in, held by a teacher, and given a small prick on their finger. The little ones cried a bit, and the big kids (some we were told were as old as 14 or 15) still needed a hand to hold and flinched a bit when they were pricked. A small drop of blood was placed onto the test and mixed with the reacting fluid, called Bio something. Then I watched as the result showed, waiting to see a single stripe under the C for Control. If an additional stripe were to show over the HIV 1 or HIV 2 spot, then we knew the child was HIV positive. One by one I wrote all of their information in the record book. The information we wrote was their age, sex, whether or not they had been tested before, whether the Bio fluid reacted, and the final result. As the numbers went from 1-84, (one of the teachers got tested) each one had a Negative in the last column. After every result showed we all heaved a sigh of relief. All of our children were free of the HIV virus.

At the end of the day, I flipped through the records book. Each time a group of people (usually 80 or so to around 300) gets tested, their results are recorded in the same way that I had recorded results today. On every page, I immediately scanned thelast column, keeping my eye out for the letter ‘p’ for positive among the overwhelming amount of ‘n’s. My heart dropped every time I saw one. The one that hurt most wasAge -15, Sex – F, N (for new, instead of the RT for return tester), and then a P in the last column for positive. For every group that was tested there was never more than 1 or 2 positive, and most testing’s didn’t even have one.

Having now had my first exposure to HIV in Africa. I feel optimistic. Moses, our in country guide/coordinator/amazing person, has told us that since mzungu’s have been raising so much awareness about HIV/AIDS, the numbers of people infected has decreased a fair amount. I still have more to reflect on today, but I was so impressed with the men doing the testing, and how much I actually got to help with and do today! Best day in Tanzania so far!

Mtoto Angu

Mtoto angu! My child! Carring Joseph home from the hospital in a khanga.

Who wouldn't want this little slice of joy to be happy and healthy?

As the nurses that live in my house are leaving soon, I asked them if they wouldn't mind stopping by the orphanage and checking out the kids quickly. This morning they came with me, and I am so overjoyed they did! I got them to first look at Joseph, who along with missing a penis also sounded like a 50 year old smoker, with this nasty rattle in his chest. They told me what we already sort of figured, that Joseph will need a prosthetic penis and that it is going to be expensive. The scabs on his head they said were most likely fungal and he had a fever along with his rattle. Bottom line was he needed to go to the hospital. Other than a runny nose, Bryson checked out fine, both of them were more than content with the candy the nurses brought. All the other kids got a quick look over too, Esther Paoul needs to see an orthopedic surgeon for her legs, as her step father had snapped them and they had both been braced improperly and healed with a strange forward arch. Kelvin Maasai, cutest little boy, has burn scars from his knees down, so severely on his feet that some of his toes are missing. He should have had skin graphs done before the skin healed itself. Now, the nurses just recommended that his skin be kept moisturized to avoid tightness as he grows. I've made plans with them to see a doctor at their hospital tomorrow about both Esther and Joseph. What pains me is not just the stories, but the things that should've, could've, and would've been done in Canada, but just weren't. After the extraordinarily kind ladies left, I approached Mama Wambura, telling her that Joseph needed some medical attention.

After some major miss-communications, we finally agreed that one of the mama's would accompany me and two other volunteers with Joseph to the hospital. After getting the boy washed up and dressed in his best clothes, and the mama doing the same for herself, we were off. It started to pour rain, and we trudged through the fields behind the house, along a dirt path, really not sure where we were headed. This to me felt like authentic Africa. Mama carrying a baby in a khanga on her back, through the rain and mud, nothing civilized in sight. After 20 or so minutes, we arrived at this strange little building. Walked inside and sat down on a bench alongside three or four other families. We were called into see the doctor within five or so minutes, I'm thinking the Mzungu accompaniment helped a bit. The doctor quickly realized we (the Mzungu's) were the only ones who thought something was wrong, so she addressed us in English, instead of the mother in Kiswahili. The room the doctor saw us in, I wouldn't even call an office. It had a desk in the centre of the room, a chair for the doctor, one for the patient and a tattered red bench along the wall for a lie-down examination. Not even closely comparable to a doctor's office at home. While mentally taking not of the lack of instruments and other 'doctor-y stuff' in the room, I told her we thought he had a chest infection and a fungal infection on his head. She weighed him, took his temperature and listened to him, then set us to the 'laboratory' to get his blood tested. A different lady came into this new room and pricked Joseph's finger, explaining that she was testing first for Malaria then HIV/AIDS. She slipped the blood onto a slide and asked us to wait in the reception area. I can't even begin to explain how incredibly nervous I was for this little guy and his diagnosis. It seemed like forever before the doctor called us back into her little room. She explained that he didn't have malaria, but did in fact have pneumonia and ringworm on his head. The HIV test was thankfully negative. She listed the medication he needed, and a price beside it. As she wrote this down, the mama gave me an expecting sideways glance. We collected the medicine from the reception desk, and I payed the 4,000 shillings, or just over $2, for two bottles of medicine, one of which was antibiotics, and two packages of pills for Joseph. Leaving the hospital, in butchered Kiswahili I offered to carry Joseph. The mama laughed and agreed, helping to hoist him on my back and tie the khanga. It was surprisingly easy to pack him home, this is definitely a trend I'm going to bring back to Canada. I did get a ton of snickers and pointed fingers with him on my back, but I loved carrying him, my mtoto (child).

I didn't realize until most of the way back home that we were walking because the mama wasn't given any money for the dala dala fare to the hospital. The ride would have cost us only 100 or so shillings, less than 10 cents. This couldn't be spared by any of the people at the orphanage. Had I known this was the issue, I wouldn't of minded springing for her, but she was much to proud of a woman, and seriously lacked any English skills, to ask.

Back at the house I called a girl named Emily, and confirmed the HIV test for all of the children of Camp Joshua and Camp Moses this Saturday. Everyone has been tested before, but this is just precautionary. Today was an eye-opener for sure. The lady dispensing drugs at the hospital could not have been more than 17 or 18 years old; in Canada isn't it something like 12 years of higher education to become a pharmacist?! I would also like to think that a child of no more than 2 years would go several weeks with a rattle in their chest and not be taken to a doctor. Things here are more than mellow, and I'm quickly learning that that applies to every aspect of life. No hurry is great for getting work done, and keeping relaxed, but when it comes to health is that really appropriate? What if it had been malaria that Joseph had contracted.. And I hate to say it, but where would the money have come from for his antibiotics if I wasn't there today? Would he have even been taken to a hospital? Correct me if I'm wrong, but can't a child die from pneumonia? How do you go about educating illiterate and solely-Swahilli speaking mama's on things like this, and other basic child hygiene issues, such as the need to change them sooner than an hour or two after they've wet themselves in either the garbage bag or piece of cloth that has been tied around their bums? I realize that at home we are somewhat germ-a-phobic when it comes to our children, but how much is too much in both countries? Obviously they aren't completely wrong here, as no one is seriously ill. The nurses theorized that Joseph's pneumonia came from a bladder infection that went untreated and spread to his lungs, but how would you diagnose this in a toddler that wets himself regularly anyways.

I was most definitely left with more questions than answers today, but I feel a lot more positive and optimistic than I have been lately. My patience is definitely growing, and I'm most definitely starting to get the hang of Africa-time. I even think my reverse culture shock is starting to kick in; I'm having difficulty reading the book "What The Dog Saw" by Malcolm Gladwell (a truly fascinating read!), talking about Enron and the unnecessary millions it screwed people out of, when no one on this continent would even be able to comprehend that amount of money.

There really are at least two different worlds out there..

The Big Difference

Woke up Monday morning barely able to bend over, in such great pain from the sun burn and from being all squashed into a dala dala for an eternity the day before. After a breakfast of, surprise surprise, white bread and peanut butter and plum jam, I headed to the orphanage. Around noon, I went to town with teacher Juliet and the two Israeli girls who are leaving this week. They showed us around and told us which local businesses have been good about donating in the past, and are 'friends' of LOHADA. We went to Afrikafe, a Mzungu heaven, and met with Jennifer who had been a volunteer with LOHADA for two years and just finished her time in February. She explained how important it was for the children of the school to be sponsored and that keeping our current sponsors, as well as finding new ones, should be a focal point of my work while I'm here. After our little meet and greet, I ran into Moses and we went to the used clothes market to buy some cushion covers and then got a quick drink at a local backpackers hostel. I won a game of scrabble after dinner and was more than elated to have a talk with Cheyenne over skype!

Feeling much better Tuesday morning (this morning), I met Mama Wambura and the Israeli girls at the gas station at 830. We went to the bread factory to pick up our weekly donation of seven loaves, and then went to a steel factory to check on the progress of the desks that they were making to donate. We went to town to try and find someone to wire electricity through Camp Joshua, but I really am not encouraging this project. Mama Wambura is not able to finish construction of the buildings themselves due to financial setbacks, but already is wanting more. I can see how she got herself into so much financial difficulties. It's a little frustrating to say the least. Mama left the girls and I downtown and we made our way back to Camp Moses. Cassie and I met just after 2 oclock to head to the bank, but not before being yelled at in Swahili because we couldn't understand that the bottles from our Fantas needed to be left at the store. It is more than frustrating when no one speaks any English and our Swahili is extremely limited. It's little things like this lately that make me want to give up. That make me question whether the way of life here will ever change, and if it really needs to change. They all seem content, but are most definitely no where near the standards of living in Canada. After getting refused for a refund at the bank, where they charged both mine and Cassie's accounts double, I know that it is going to be a good and well deserved nights sleep tonight. Hopefully these stupid Malaria medication dreams stop soon.

Tonight after dinner there were only a few of us left behind and we ended up having a super interesting conversation about African politics. I learned that the president of Zimbabwe has made inflation a daily thing, making one weeks wages worth almost nothing the next week. The bank is now being forced to print billion dollar notes. The only way to avoid the inflation is to exchange the Zimbabwe dollar for American dollars as soon as you receive the money. The banks have caught on to this however, and are charging ridiculous fees to exchange. The government corruption levels in Africa are all in the 'red' zone, and I'm finding this extremely hard to comprehend. We then began to talk about my upcoming trip to Kenya, Uganda and Rwanda, and the dangers associated with the crossing of borders. The police are not men who can't be trusted here. Sure, at home they are often seen as men on power trips, but they can always be called and relied upon in case of an emergency. Here, they are looked at as men you will most likely need to be paid off if crossed. I would feel so uncomfortable knowingly living in a place where you can't really trust any one, and have to question everybody's morals. I guess when it's all that you know, you don't know how profoundly different it really should be. Then also comes the question of the church and how the missionaries have played a major role in the conflicts in most of the countries here.

Locals trust us Mzungu's implicitly and it's unfortunate that a lot of them have only been told the way of a Catholic God by men who have not lived their way, who are teaching them things like abstinence and not acknowledging that there are bigger problems that need to be addressed. Sex has become a taboo subject, condoms even more so. If missionaries had told about protection and created an open dialogue around the issues faced here, HIV/AIDS may have not come to be such an issue.. Just some food for thought. More on this to come.

I realize that this may seem somewhat 'angst-y' but I'm using this blog as an outlet for my feelings and frustrations I'm encountering. Africa is beautiful, but life here is by now means picturesque or easy. I am however pleased to know I'm living life here honestly and not pretending issues don't exist. I know that I'm in the culture shock stage of my journey right now, and things are most definitely not easy. Despite this, I'm keeping a positive outlook and know with every obstacle I conquer, it's one less I'll have to encounter later on.

The girls and I are off to have our Tuesday night popcorn and movie, with these wild situations and unanswered questions running through our minds.

Pole Samaki Pole

On Friday morning 10 of us piled into a dala dala that we rented, ready for what we were told would be a nice 5 hour drive. We stopped in Arusha and picked up a previous volunteer and her Tanzanian husband who were coming with us. A little cramped, but excited for the beach, we were off.

At around hour four of the trip, we started asking how much farther, to be told we were about an hour out of Tanga, the city before the beach. Three hours later we were actually in Tanga. Then we had to get to the resort. We drove through the city that smelt like daaga fish and onto a dirt road. Thirty or so minutes into the dirt road we came across a python that had killed a goat. We all convinced ourselves that pythons only lived in this area of Tanzania and there is absolutely no possibility that we will see them in Arusha. Another hour or so on that nasty dirt road (going an aggravating 30km an hour) we had finally made it to our resort! It was sweltering hot and we were all grouchy, but the fact we made it to the Indian Ocean was more than relieving. Five of us dropped our stuff in one hut, and six others in a separate hut. We threw on our suits and ran to the beach.

A little disappointed by the low tide and not so white sand, the sun and palm trees as well as the deserted beach made up for it all. The ocean was like bath water and not too salty at all, but yes dad this ocean did have salt too. We had a quick swim and went for dinner. It was soooo nice to not have more white carbs; most of us ordered salads and burgers. Exhausted after a long day of traveling we went to bed pretty early.

Anxious to hit the beach we had an early but delicious Saturday morning breakfast of fresh fruit salad and ran to the sunshine. Two hours in and it started to rain. And rained. And rained. And rained some more. It was still hot, but raining. Cliff, the Tanzanian that came with us, taught us the 'poor us' song.. It goes pole samaki pole, which translates literally into poor fishy poor. White people are also known as 'samaki', not just mzungu. We played cards and drank Konyagi out of plastic bags.. That's the fad here, drink your alcohol out of baggies. Strange, but does the trick. As the night progressed, there were more and more versions of the samaki song sung, including a 'remix' going pole little fishy pole, mixing Swahili and English. Pretty clever. Cassie and I split a FRESH crab for dinner, bashing our way through the crabs trying to get all of the meat out. One of our group had his birthday on the trip, so we had ordered a cake and we all had it for dessert. We all had too much Konyagi, learned dirty Swahili words, and went to bed early. Scared that the cockroaches from the bathroom would end up in our beds, we did not sleep easy this night.

Sunday morning we packed up and hit the beach for a few last hours of sunshine. We skimped on the sunscreen and soaked up the heat, not realizing how different the African sun is than anything else we'd experienced. After a quick lunch we begrudgingly got back onto the dala dala and headed home. Lucky for me, the true extent of my sunburn didn't rear it's fully nastiness until around two hours before we got back. Starving, exhausted, stinky and grouchy, we finally made it home. Two of us came right back to the house, and the rest went to McMoody's (African McDonald's) for some greatly appreciated western food. The two of us at the house whipped up some cereal and had a magnificent cold shower. I took some Benedryl for my millions of bug bites and went to bed, dreading the pain that the next morning would bring.

Currently I look like a tomato, with bows on my hips where my bikini strings were and a white strip across my face where my sunglasses were. I look like a goon basically. The coast was beautiful and so very different from Arusha. I'm glad I don't have that relentless heat to face everyday. A beautiful weekend escape none the less.

Nashiavai

Moses gave me my Maasai name on our Sunday hike, Nashiavai, or person that smiles and makes other smiles. It is my goal to stay true to that name while I'm here!

I've quickly discovered that I'm actually in charge of the orphanage, and am pretty sure they think I'm going for some type of business degree, as I've already done this years budget and have tried to decipher the stacks of hand written donation forms over the past year, along with calculate the extreme deficit the orphanage has. What's really sad, is that despite my lack of Math 12, I'm still in a much better position to be doing this type of work than anyone here.

After the first day, I was more than frustrated. It seemed impossible to even begin getting this place into shape. I became somewhat angry at the lady running the organization, I mean what was she thinking getting herself into this mess? I had a huge moment of prejudice and thinking that never would these African women be able to successfully run this organization. Then I dove into the work, and have since realized that yes, it is possible for them to turn this organization around if I help them and share my knowledge.

After being at the orphanage for only four full days, I have already delved into a proposal (coming along at 10 pages right now), hoping to score them some land to raise pigs! The two other girls working at the orphanage with me that are from Israel were mugged for the second time the other day, and have decided to leave, so I'll be the only long term volunteer for the mean time. There are a few girls from Denmark who are also there helping temporarily which is nice. They have been playing with the kids that aren't in school during the day while I work in the office.

It's nice to have this amazing responsibility and be so trusted already, but it is also coming with huge expectations. If I don't flip this place, then it will more than likely be the end of the organization. If you have any medical supplies, band-aids, gauze, and general hygiene items such as toothbrushes and towels kicking around, please give them to my parents to bring here. Also little boys clothing, as they don't wear diapers and are constantly wetting themselves and needing to be changed. Thank you! I can tell that I am going to be kept busy, and am able to make a huge change here. This is exactly what I bargained for!

The extreme lack of concepts of time and urgency are really bugging me still. Everything is slow, really slow. And I can't emphasize that enough. Tomorrow morning we're heading to Tanga, www.peponiresort.com if you want to be really jealous, for a weekend at the ocean. This trip kept me going this week; motivated me to get as much as I could done so I'd feel deserving of a day off.

Best TIA story to end this off, took Teacher Juliete, the head teacher at LOHADA my organization... www.lohada.org .... to the movies tonight. She had never been! The power went of three times during the movie. TIA.

Celine Dion lives on in the dala dala's of Arusha. That is all we hear, every day, to and from work. Canadian pride.

Favorites So Far...

Orphanage and week/weekend updates probably tomorrow, but in the meantime here are some of my favorites from the trip so far... I've finally figured out how to make my pictures so that they will actually upload onto here without taking years, so expect more in posts to come! Enjoy!

Little Josef

Our trusty steed at Lake Daluti

Used clothes market in Arusha Town

At the waterfall we hiked to

Baboon at Lake Manyara

Giraffe trifecta of amazing-ness at Maynara

Pumbas and Waterfalls and Children Oh My

This Saturday I lived every child's dream of roaming alongside Pumba and Simon from the Lion King.

Well, not the cute cuddly characters from the movie, but the real life versions that live in Lake Manyara. I also did not see any Simbas/lions. But they were there!

16 of us piled into three safari jeeps and off we went. Even the jeeps didn't go more that 60 or 70 km/h on the highways. Everything is slower here. TIA once again. After about 2 hours and a camel sighting later, we got to Lake Manyara. We popped up the top and cruised/bumped/jolted around. We saw baboons, which actually climbed onto our jeep, elephants which are really really stinky, zebras, monkeys, HIPPOS, giraffes, and pumba's, or warthogs! No lions, but I was still extremely stoked on everything. A pretty amazing/exhausting day overall, but amazing and I have some pretty cool pictures from it too. That new zoom lens was definitely worth it. I couldn't imagine doing more than a one day safari though, not too keen on sitting for that long at a time, even if the animals are cool. On the way home we stopped and got some red bananas, which are even more delicious than the normal African bananas.

On Sunday we all got up bright and early for what we thought would be a nice stroll to the Maasai village and waterfalls. This hike kicked our butts from 9 am until 530 pm. For my Loran-ians, take Algonquin and times it by like 10. It was spectacular though! We hiked up a mountain then back down it and up a river to a waterfall, then back up a mountain and part of the way down it again to the Maasai village.. We went to Moses' family's house, and they fed us fresh lamb, delicious! Back down was a cinch, and I will for sure be doing this hike again when my family comes and visits. Side story - all they eat here is carbs. That is all. Carbs and oil. Carbs drizzled in oil, carbs fried in oil, carbs soaked in oil. Mad craving some vegetables, we headed out for some Mediterranean food, and I was more than glad to scarf down a greek salad.

Today was my toughest day here by far. It was the first time I wavered a bit in my confidence in staying here for so long. I had my first full day at the orphanage. When I went for my first visit on Thursday, Mama Wambura, the head of it all, was unable to come and see me so today was supposed to be my first time meeting her. I got to the orphanage just after 9 in the morning, and was met by one of the teachers. She gave me a quick tour and said Mama W would be with me in a bit. I sat down and she handed me some volunteer handbooks that previous volunteers had written up. After reading these I realized that I wasn't just there to play with kids, but to run the place. When it became apparent that Mama W would be busy for a while, I was told I could just go play with kids. I went into their classroom and immediately got tackled by the two youngest boys, Bryson and Nelson/Jason/Logan/Angel (not really sure what his name is), who were just sitting to the side of the classroom. Side story - Bryson was found abandoned in a dark room, and was completely malnourished for the first year or so of his life. Because of the darkness of the room, he has problems seeing still but we have been told by doctors that he should catch up developmentally soon enough. Nelson/whoever I'm not too sure about the back story. I was told by my co ordinator that his mother had cut off half of his penis, and today at the orphanage I was told that it just never came out when he was born. I talked to the nurses that live in the same house as me and they said that when I see for myself and am able to tell them about it, they would come and take a look and see if there is anything we can do medically/surgically to help him. At first I was a little wary of them, and their drool, but quickly grew to love them hanging off of my limbs. I helped them with their porridge snack and cleaned up after, then was greeted by two other volunteers who have been at the orphanage for about a month now. With Bryson on my lap we chatted about all that needed to be done for the orphanage, and how extremely dependent they were on volunteers and white people in general to fund them. For the last month these two girls have been fundraising for the orphanage and just tidying everything up. They really are relying on us to do everything from finding sponsors for the 100+ kids at Camp Moses's (my orphanage) brother orphanage for older students, Camp Joshua, to writing newsletters for the locals and proposals to North American companies for funding. As the discussion was getting going, my lap felt a little warm, and sure enough I lifted up Bryson and I was soaked in his pee. Yum. This wasn't the only time it happened today either.

The other volunteers and I decided to go for lunch just down the street, which was just the icing on my cake of a bad day. It took us 3.5 hours to do this, 45 minutes to wait to order, 1 hour or so for food, and another 30 or so minutes at the end for our bill. Not only was it long, but interesting as well. My BLT came with just the B and bread soaked in oil. Yum. I only ended up spending a little more time at the orphanage in the afternoon, coming up with a plan of attack on what is most important I do in the next little while. On my dala dala ride home there were some creepy school boys who were obviously saying rude Swahili things to me, and just made me really uncomfortable. Then, when I made it up the hill to the house, our gatekeeper wasn't there and I had to wait outside the gate for 5 or so minutes, feeling like a stupid Mzungu who couldn't even get into their own house. I finally came in and just collapsed outside, and started to cry. After talking with others who also had their first days today, we all figured we were in similar situations. I think I'm more overwhelmed than anything else, but now that I've seen how much there is to do, I know I can really make a difference.

I never actually met Mama Wambura today. TIA.

After dinner we went into town, and on our third try found somewhere that sold ice cream and was open. Ice cream really makes the world go round. I've cooled down a bit, and thought seriously about what is wrong with the way things are here. White people are looked up to and never questioned in their authority. They believe we are the answer to all their problems, and this needs to change. They rely on funds brought in by volunteers and other Mzungu's, not on themselves. What I hope to do while I'm here is find ways to make them self sufficient. Pigs for sale?

A bad day in Africa is better than a bad day anywhere else. Watch out Camp Moses, your white person wake up call is coming.

T I A

This
Is
Africa.

That's what is said about everything here. We're two hours late.. Well, This Is Africa. Dala dala's have the right of way on the streets.. This Is Africa.. Thong sandals for 22,000 shillings at this store, down the street for 8,000. T.I.A.

The way of life here is slow paced to say the least, which has taken me some serious getting used to. When Swahili classes are scheduled to start at 9, they really start closer to 10, and so on. Everything is approximate and I think I'm going to like it once I start to get over my need to be 10 minutes early for everything.

This past week has been our orientation and language training. Every morning I've been woken up by the man who bangs his bells and calls for prayer, who also coincidentally wakes up all the dogs, cows and roosters.

Monday - Today we did a few hours of Swahili training, then after probing our instructor/driver/Arusha connection, Nelson, about his Tanzanite connections, he took us to his office in Arusha. Nelson's mom owns a mine which produces Tanzanite, a gemstone found only in Tanzania. He showed us how they cut and weigh the Tanzanite. Papa, you would've thought this was pretty cool. I thought of you while we were there! Later we accompanied Moses and Nelson downtown to a little back alley store that sold used everything to pick up a washing machine for the house. Side story - Nelson is a member of the Chagaa tribe. The Chagaa men are known as business men, so it makes a lot of sense that Nelson is the one who is selling us our cell phones, buying a washing machine for the house and charging us to do our laundry by machine instead of by hand. He has mad connections! Life continues as normal around the house, going to bed early, waking up even earlier.

Tuesday - More language training in the morning, and more relaxing and getting used to TIA in the early afternoon. After lunch we went to a place called Center for Women and Children Development, which is a school that offers subsidized tuition to poor students. Side story - 9 of the people living in the house are doing a three week project traveling to villages and giving presentations about everything from finance to hygiene, HIV/AIDS prevention and women's and children's rights, pollution, nutrition and puberty. At the CWCD, we watched the presentation and were able to play with some of the kids who attend school there. Turns out it's a universal thing that kids want to count 1,2,3 and be lifted up and spun around. We spun and played and laughed for over an hour. On our walk home from CWCD, we decided to cut our walking time down and hopped on some bicycle taxi's. 400 shillings, or 40 cents for a few minute ride.

Wednesday - Today's language training taught us fruit and vegetable vocabulary. We took a field trip to the food market and put these new skills to use. We bargained for bananas, mangoes and oranges, cucumbers and attempted a pineapple. We also realized that they market carried all the ingredients to make fresh guacamole, so we took our mad skills and got all the ingredients for a HUGE bowl for 1,500 shillings, or about $1 CDN. Side story - life in Tanzania I'm finding to be pretty cheap. I bought a cell phone for 40,000 shillings, or about $33 CDN. We only pay for minutes, and it's just 40 shillings a text, or less than 4 cents CDN. The government here is not exactly functional. They earn an average of 6 million shillings a month, or $6,000 CDN. They are given luxury cars and resented by most people. An average wage is about 100,000 shillings, or less than $100 CDN a month. After lunch we went to Lake Duluti. To get there we had to take 2 different dala dala's and walked for about 10 minutes. The lake was disgusting and green, and we sat on sawed off lawn chairs in flimsy canoe's. There was, however, an incredible view of Kilimanjaro from the middle of the lake. We saw monkey's, lizards and funny looking birds! Hopefully Saturday's safari is a little better for animal sightings.

Thursday - More language training, even less sleep as the man with the bells this morning really wanted to make sure everyone was up and ready for prayer. Mom, please bring some earplugs when you come! After language, Cassie and I ventured into Arusha by ourselves for the first time! We found the central market and outfits for our upcoming beer pong tournament. After lunch the 5 of us that aren't doing the health presentations were able to visit our volunteer placements. Three of us went to the orphanages and two went to the schools. Cassie's orphanage, Good Samaritan, was our first stop. We were allowed into the room where they keep the babies that are around 1 yr old. No one seemed to mind as we all picked up babies, even the babies themselves. They were just overjoyed to have someone to hold them. All over the world, people just want someone to hold them and show them love. There are clearly enough hands to do this, so why are some children going without? When the time came to leave and put the baby's down they all went limp in our arms and began to wail. I cried along with them. Next, we went to my orphanage. I met Byron, who is about 2 and won't make eye contact, and Angel who is around the same age and who's mother had beaten him and cut his penis in half. These stories are a dime a dozen here, and I'll be sharing more as I learn more. I now am able to see the possibilities to affect change and can't wait to start learning from these children, and hopefully leave some love and positivity behind from my stay, starting with the playground.. I'll try and make a visual here; when you climb up the ladder on the back of a slide, usually there is a platform at the top to sit on before you push yourself down the slide part. The slide at the orphanage most definitely does not have one of these. This will change in the next few weeks! Side story - Hoping to take some really good pictures here, of children, of animals and just pictures of Africa in general.. I'd like to sell some of these pictures to raise money for the orphanage, Camp Moses, that I'll be working in. If you'd like to see some of the one's I've taken so far, or are interested in donating let my mom or myself know! l_richardson9@hotmail.com, or srichardson@summer.com

Friday - This morning was our last language training.. Poa kimchisi kama ndisi baridi ndani ya fridgi. I'm cool like a banana is cool when it's inside of the fridge. That's all you really need to get by here in A-town. After language, we went downtown and are just now preparing for Amazing Race Arusha, which is going to start with a ugali eating contest.. Yum. Safari tomorrow, Maasai village on Sunday, placement Monday! (Cassie and I actually won the Amazing Race.. More on that later.

I do miss my family, Layner, I really can't wait until you get here.. They've got sweet swords and Maasai warrior gear I'm making sure you're going to get for souvenirs. Dad - beer is 1,100 shillings a can, or less than $1 CDN. Mom - these kiddies are going to break your heart, and I can't wait to spend time at my orphanage with you. Aunty Laura - they sell Tanzanite here, I thought of you! Would you like some?! It's pricey, but super rare!

Little things here remind me of people at home all the time - Breckon, the laid back pace and do what you want atmosphere screams your name! Camille, I'm just always thinking of you, especially as my nails are chipping and could really use a cute color.

Anne Kemp - I'm hoping to see some hippos like you told me about over the next few weeks!

More later, especially after the weekend ahead of me!

Wakelini, or something like that, my Swahili is still coming haha.

Yes Dad, There Are Trees in Africa

After the long day in Nairobi, I was more then excited to get on the little propellor plane to Kilimanjaro airport. The quick 40 minute flight took us over both Mt. Kilimanjaro and Mt. Meru as the sun was setting. Breathtaking to say the least! It was quick and easy to get my visa once inside the airport, and the placement co-ordinator was waiting for myself and another girl with Volunteer Abroad who had flown in with me. We threw our bags in a taxi and were off to our new home! The roads here are very strange... Tons of speed bumps (mini mountains really) and cattle guards; the cars never really go more than 60km/h. Oh! And they drive on the other side of the road! It was about 45 minutes to our home, just outside of Arusha. As it was late, we didn't see much but dropped our jaws in awe when we saw our house at the top of the hill.

Our house! Sorry it's rotated wrong.. Tilt your head!

14 of us arrived on Friday night, and all got settled. I share a room with 6 other girls, will post pictures of our room later! They are all university students, some just finished with their undergrads, from Canada. 9 of them are only here for 3 weeks, and 4 other girls are here for around 2 months. Everyone is just as thrilled to be here; we're already all planning our safari's and climbing trips.

Our full first day I awoke to the most gorgeous view of rolling hills and a brilliant blue sky. Sitting on our balcony, I really couldn't believe that I'm actually here. We had a quick breakfast of crepes with plum jam and peanut butter. I was super relieved that they have pb here.. It's all natural and everything! We did a bit of orientation, safety precautions and things like that! Then lunch and off to Arusha for some exploring. The city reminds me a lot of Ecuador, clearly poverty stricken, but signs of affluence everywhere; Mercedes and BMW's driving alongside women carrying their wares in baskets atop their heads. More about the city later tho! We all came home and had a traditional dinner of ugali.. This is a white corn like sticky dough that you roll into a ball, push a hole into the middle, scoop some stuff inside it and shove in your mouth. Messy to say the least. Very bland too.. Different and exciting though! We all crashed early last night, having been awoken by the Muslim call to prayer before dawn, followed by the roosters our neighbor has.

I thankfully was able to sleep through the entire night last night, waking up just after 7. Breakfast of crepes and some more orientation shared for us some fascinating cultural facts. The local, Moses, that lives with us who helps us get around and teaches us about Tanzania. He is a member of the Maasai village that we are going to see tomorrow. He explained to us that males are circumcised around age 16 to prove their strength showing they can become a warrior. The concept of this is not one of shame, but one that brings honor to a family, especially if the male is able to go through the procedure without so much as wincing. Hearing about the procedure from Moses as opposed to how I've heard about it at home, showed it in a whole different light. When it is done willingly, it is very much comparable to plastic surgery people get in North America. There is no need for the procedure, but it is done to prove a point or to encourage self-image and status in society. The orientation also gave us more safety tips, this time preparing us for our dala dala ride into the city.

A dala dala (dollah dollah) is a type of taxi-bus van like thing. Each has it's own driver and an attendant who is in charge of collecting money and ushering people on and off at various stops. Each dala dala could comfortably sit around 12 or so people, but are often stuffed with upwards of 25. They are the cheapest and one of the fastest ways to get around here. We took the dala dala to the Maasai craft market and toured around there for a while. A group of 15 white people draws a bit of attentions.. Usually followed by calls of "Mzungu" or white person/stupid tourist... My biggest problem at the craft market was figuring out how I was going to ship all the wooden animal statues and tables I wanted home.

After the craft market we went to the used clothing market. This was fascinating. For what seemed like a mile long strip, people would display tons and tons of used clothes, that had been shipped from most likely North America, and sell them to the locals. Dinner tonight was at a place called Khan's, which is a mechanic shop by day and bbq by night! We had mutton, beef and chicken with vegetables and other things; the food here is much much better than I expected it to be.

As full day number two comes to a close, I am proud to say that I can count to one million in Swahili and have a grasp on some of the greetings and other basic phrases. I already have plans to visit Ngorogoro, a giant crater that houses hippo's and rhino's, head to the beach and visit a traditional Maasai village.. And that's just in the next week or two. After that I'm hoping to climb both Mt. Kilimanjaro and Mt. Meru. I'm thankful I have so much time here; there is way too much that I want to do! Being only day two, I feel like I could stay here forever.. I know this will change as I get homesick but I hope to remember how elated I feel right now and how amazing I believe I can make this experience. The culture is intriguing, and no matter how frustrated I am with Swahili right now, I know it will all become clearer in the next few months.

Hakuna matata!

Vancouver to Nairobi

Goodbye's are never easy, and this trip was no exception. I managed to hold it together until I had to say goodbye to mom at YVR Wednesday night. It was then that it hit me how long fifteen weeks really is. I cried and cried and sniffled and moped as I made my way through customs, getting and giving smiles to those who were so clearly in the same state as I was. 8pm and I was on my first plane to Amsterdam.

Cutest little boy sat beside me.. We talked about ninja turtles then he started puking and didn't stop for nine and a half hours. Yum. I got stuck in Amsterdam for seven hours, then for a little bit longer on the plane. We started off being 15 minutes late boarding, then sat on the runway to 2 or so hours. I started getting anxious as I was due to board a plane to Kilimanjaro an hour after I was scheduled to land in Nairobi.

For those of you who know how anal I am about being on time, you can imagine how crazy I was going when we were just sitting on the tarmac waiting and knowing I was going to miss a flight. We got into Nairobi an hour and a half later than we should have, but my next plane was delayed too. The person sitting in front of me on the flight from Amsterdam happened to be going to Kili to, so we sprinted off the plane, and maneuvered our way through the Nairobi airport.. It for sure looked like we were on the Amazing Race or something. I was pretty pumped. Until we found out we were 15 or so minutes too late and couldn't get on our flight, even though it hadn't left yet. Then it really felt like we were on the Amazing Race. So here I am stuck in Nairobi, until 6pm when the next flight leaves for Kilimanjaro. We got here at 745 am.

Long long long long day.