Maji Moto

This weekend was a definite turning point for the better. The power was out all through Moshono (the area of Arusha Camp Moses is in) and the majority of the work I needed done was on the computer. I played with my kiddies, avoided any pee incidents, and left around noon.

Our house had planned on going on a big camping trip, and I was excited to get out of the house for the weekend. Meghan had come home from summiting Kilimanjaro the night before and we were set on making her last weekend in Africa a good one!

We got our bags together, made sure we had enough chocolate and graham crackers to see us through a few days, and boarded the dalla dalla. The whole way to the hot springs, Maji Moto (literally translated to ‘hot water’) we sang and sang and entertained the local that was driving us. Only eight of us went down on the Friday, as the rest didn’t want to stay over night. We pitched our tents and started a fire. Joseph, not my baby but our assistant cook at the house, came along with us to make our meals. Life of luxury indeed. Two of the four new volunteers joined us, and I really enjoyed getting to know them.

We spent the night talking and making s’mores around the campfire. It was really just what I needed to set me straight again and give myself a huge attitude adjustment.

The next day we ate breakfast, put on our swimsuits and dove into the hot springs. The water was warm and beautiful and just perfect. We swam and laughed and enjoyed the relaxation that Maji Moto brought us. The other group came around lunch time and by then we had already finished in the water. For the rest of the day, I took pictures and just hung out. This was the first time I’d just relaxed at somewhere other than Kigongoni Lodge or our house. It felt fantastic! We found a turtle and looked at fishies and just loved the day.

As the afternoon wore on, more mzungu’s from different groups in and around Arusha showed up. I grew happier and happier with my decision to have camped out the night before as I got my swimming done in the morning and didn’t feel rushed or obligated to do much of anything at all. The rest of the group all swam till three or four in the afternoon, then we packed up camp and drove away from our glorious weekend.

Sunday was Meghans last full day in Arusha. Our original five was going to lose it’s third member! Meghan and I spent the day doing all the fun things around Arusha. We went and bought her bus ticket to Dar es Salaam, then to the market to get some last minute souvenirs, of course to Africafe for one last piece of cake and then back to the house to let her finish packing. We went to the Japanese restaurant for dinner and made our way home. I had a really good time getting to know Meghan better and really enjoyed our last few days together. It was the perfect ending to a really refreshing weekend.

Really? I Have How Long Left?

The next day I came to Camp Moses and met with Eamon and Caroline there. We sat down to have what started as an innocent talk, but ended in a fight. We began discussing what we really wanted to accomplish with the time we had left and what we had already done. Of course, this led to Joseph.

By now my attachment to him has grown immeasurably. He has really become my own and I feel responsible for everything that happens to him. Juliet wasn’t sure herself and Mama Wambura wanted us to continue sponsoring him because of how many people had gotten involved. Not only were Caroline and I sponsoring him, but also the two Danish volunteers that had been around for a few weeks had become involved as well as the pushy Americans that have since disappeared. They were thinking it would just be easier for them to just be in control. The language barrier was too much and we were all too frustrated with each other to continue the conversation. Showing my not-so-mature side, I left with Eamon and Caroline to go to town and cool down.

We had a milkshake and burger and discussed what had just happened in the meeting. Knowing I still had work to get done, I went back to Camp Moses after we had finished eating. Things were more than tense when I walked in. I spent an hour or so avoiding Juliet, which is not easy when the office is smaller than a bedroom, and going through sponsorship files before calling it quits. More devastated than ever, I went home.

To Moshi With Love

For the first time, Caroline and I ventured to Moshi just the two of us. We were more than okay with making it another short trip; only taking Mama Suzanna and Joseph for lunch and playing with our baby a bit before leaving. We left what we thought would be enough money for the next little while and came back to Arusha. Tired and still full swing with my private pity party, I ate dinner and went to bed.

The next day was Saba Saba, or the seventh of July. It’s a farmers celebration day and most people don’t work. Feeling like I was most people, along with others in our house, stayed home for the day. Ana and I decided to be adventurous and make cinnamon buns. And an adventure it was. In the process of learning to make the buns, we also learned how to make corn syrup and brown sugar, as both are non-existent in Arusha. The three or so hour long process was absolutely delicious in the end. Ana and I are known as the African Betty Crocker’s.

Baking has been a pretty big part of our white-house-on-the -hill life. We’ve made everything from chocolate chip banana muffins to apple coffee cake and now were proud to add cinnamon buns to the ever growing list… and waistline.

Tough Times

Even though Meghan and Marlee were still around, and the new volunteers had arrived the night before, I couldn’t help but feel like holing myself up in my room all weekend, and that’s just what I did. That Saturday and Sunday completely blur together. Somewhere in there Meghan left to climb Kili and I watched the first two seasons of the TV series Weeds. I walked around town like a lost puppy, stayed in bed until ridiculous hours and just felt sorry for myself.
I had heard that things hadn’t gone well at Camp Moses on Friday. From what I had been told (I spent the day saying good bye to Andrea and Cassie), there had been a huge meeting (that I wasn’t told about… my first frustration) that discussed Joseph and who was in charge of the funding and monitoring of his care. The new Americans insisted it was their prerogative to continue with Joseph’s well being, even though Caroline and I had done of the legwork to get him admitted to KCMC. The main issue, I guess, was that everyone wanted to help Joseph and the attention was being diverted from the other 120 kids LOHADA helps. With all of this happening, I dreaded more than ever going back to work on Monday.
With this terribly negative attitude, I did just that. Went to work, was a grouch and didn’t last long. Caroline’s co-ordinator, Eamon, came to Moses to discuss what had happened at the meeting on Friday and to see how things were in general at LOHADA. Five or six new volunteers had also shown up at Camp Moses, and I felt useless. We hung around until noon or so, then Caroline, Eamon and I went into town for lunch.
There were miscommunications left right and center and nothing was being done to fix it. I should’ve been on the ball at this point but was too pre occupied with being homesick. I was frustrated that it felt like no one was listening to my opinion and it just seemed like no one wanted to change anything or strive for what I saw as improvement. The pole pole nature of everything had gone from enjoyable to the source of frustration in a matter of days. I was clearly on the African emotional rollercoaster that I had been warned about.

It's Hard To Say Goodbye

The next few days, Andrea and Cassie started to pack their bags. Sad to see them leave, I decided a work-from-home day was in order. Andrea and I went to Kigongoni Lodge (they have wireless internet so I did get some work done!), and got ourselves pumped for the Canada party we were hosting that night. All of us girls took our time getting ready and put on our red and white; so proud to represent Canada in Africa! All of the law interns from the ICTR came to our house (they had all made friends with Ronnie) came over. We had a Canadian musician only play-list and danced our night away to the sounds of The Barenaked Ladies, Justin Bieber, The Tragically Hip and Bryan Adams. In front of the house, Ronnie set off the fireworks that he had bought and we celebrated the great nation we were from. After that, we loaded ourselves into a rented dalla dalla and headed to Via Via to share the Canadian spirit. We danced even more and made our way home in the wee hours of the morning.

We all woke up feeling like champions the next day. We went for breakfast at Africafe and wished that the clocks would all stop. Andrea was going to be the first to leave, departing just after noon. We all moped around our room, Andrea and Cassie packing up two months worth of memories. Agrey, our taxi man, pulled into the drive and we loaded her suitcases in. Proving myself as the baby of the house, I teared up and said goodbye to a great friend. The rest of us sat around for the rest of the day, in disbelief of how fast two months had gone by. We went for dinner to our favorite restaurant; savoring every bite and not wanting to go back home. On the way back, I realized that in the past two months, Cassie and I had not spent one night apart. On all of our trips and the whole time in the house we had shared a room. At home, Agrey came once again and took away another friend. Meghan, Marlee and I, the last three of the original five, sat on the front steps of our house and tried to come to terms with how little time we had left and how much had already gone bye.

At this point I was ready to come home. The thought that Andrea and Cassie would be seeing their friends and families in less than a day, and would be going back to normal made me resent my surroundings. I was tired of being shouted at walking down the streets and I craved the personal space that all of Arusha seemed to lack. I just wanted normal.

Back To Reality....

Bright and early we all met at Friend’s corner. I was late, as usual since I’ve adapted so well to the African pole pole nature. Since I hadn’t been back to Camp Moses since my trip to Zanzibar, I was a little behind on what was all going on with regards to the care of our kiddies. Two extra girls were waiting at the corner and I was told they were from a separate organization that was interested in taking care of the cost of Joseph’s post-operative care. I had my first maternal instinct ever when I saw these strangers holding my babies and pretending like they knew them when I was positive they didn’t. I just wanted to take Joseph and Bryson from their arms and hold them and protect them and make sure they were safe.

We loaded the bus and I wasn’t surprised when the new girls, who were American, ensured the babies sat on their laps and insisted on giving them too much sugar. The most frustrating thing was that they didn’t acknowledge how much Caroline, another volunteer, and I knew about these kids already and they didn’t bother to ask what we had already done for them. They just assumed we were all starting from square one. I napped as usual for the remainder of the trip and gladly got off the stuffy, stinky bus when we came to Moshi.

On their last trip to Moshi they had already gotten an ultrasound for Joseph and we were ready to admit him. While we were waiting around and getting all of his papers in order, the American and I started talking. We talked about the organizations we had come with, how long we had been in Tanzania for (I was at 2 months, herself, 2 days), and then we got onto the topics of university. I told her I was going into my second year, she insisted that I wasn’t, and then asked how old I was. After I told her my age, she said, “Oh wow, you’re just a baby. You don’t really know what’s going on, do you?”. From that point forward I really didn’t like her. Not only did I not like her, but also I felt for the first time since being in Africa that I needed to prove myself to someone.

Frustrated with her, I left and went to pester Dr Afrika into coming to meet us. He ensured that there was a bed for Joseph in the urology wing of the hospital. We got Joseph and Mama Lydia settled into their new bed before worrying about Bryson. We paid the 65,000 shillings for Josephs stay and said our goodbyes. Starving, Caroline and I grabbed some lunch/dinner while the American volunteers went with Bryson to the eye clinic. If they had listened before, they would have known that he had already been to an eye doctor and had no problems with his eyes. Dinner was a little tense when they came back with Bryson and we attempted again to explain what we had done. With full bellies, we made our way back to the bus station and came home to Arusha. Frustrated that a) it had been a 14 hour day and b) that I had experienced ageism in Africa, I called my girlies and had them meet me at Africafe for a hot fudge sundae. Two of my girls had just gotten down from summiting Kilimanjaro so we all had lots to talk about.

We went back to Moshi the next day, relieved to finally be able to go at 9 am (I’m really not a fan of early mornings). Andrea had finished her placement and was looking for something to do, so came with Caroline and I to Moshi. I slept the ride away and was so overjoyed to see that my baby was still okay at the hospital. We bought Mama Lydia and Joseph lunch, made sure they had plenty of fruit and water in the room and enough money for food until Monday when we were planning on coming back. Relieved at the idea of a short trip after the marathon of a day we had the day before, we headed back to Arusha. After dinner, to celebrate a good day, we all went to the movies to see Prince of Persia. Terrible movie, but still fun!

It was heart wrenching to leave my baby behind at KCMC, but I knew this was the first step into getting the right care. So much emotion was intertwined throughout the day, it didn’t feel like I was in Africa anymore. The more reflection I do on my trip and the changes I’ve seen in myself I realize how much I love the culture here. It has really become a part of me, and I hope I can bring the ‘pole pole’ or slow and relaxed methods back to my life in Canada.

Stone Town

Sunday morning, with very little sleep, I woke up determined to fully embrace the last day I had as a beach bum. I made my way to the beach, memorizing the brilliant blue of the ocean and the soft squish of the white sand between my toes. Nothing felt as perfect as the heat of the sun beating down and the ocean breeze blowing over. Begrudgingly, Cassie and I packed up our stuff and left Kendwa Rocks at 11 that afternoon. We got a taxi and headed to Stone Town.

The narrow, winding roads and brilliantly aged and intricate architecture made it feel like we had driven into a completely different part of the world. After our taxi driver expertly navigated the streets to our hotel, we dropped our bags and anxiously headed off to first find some food, then to explore.

While we were in Kendwa, we carefully studied the map of Stone Town, debating which hotel location would be most suitable to our plans. We decided on Mazsons, which was located fairly centrally. Our plan of attack was to start at one end of the town, close to the ocean, and walk alongside the water, venture into a few museums and do a bit of souvenir shopping. We figured that we would make it to the restaurant we wanted to have dinner at around 6 pm or so, as it was on the complete opposite end of town. After our delicious Italian lunch, we set out to accomplish just this.

As we walked, we were constantly side tracked by little shops and fantastic views. After finding the Old Fort and a few museums as well as the rose garden we noticed that we had only walked about 20 minutes, and were already halfway through the town. In another 10 or so minutes, we had made it to the port which was also where our restaurant was.. So much for the hours we thought we would be walking. Looks like mom's map reading skills didn't come through in my genes. Layner, guess you got 'em.

Since we had rushed ourselves a bit, worried we wouldn't get to the restaurant before dark, we back tracked a bit and successfully shopped our way through the twisted town. I bought spices galore and real vanilla, Hammer pants and some amazingly scented teas and coffees. We dropped off our bags at the hotel, did a quick change, and walked to Mercury's Restaurant for dinner.

Freddy Mercury, the old lead singer from Queen, had supposedly been born in Zanzibar. The restaurant Mercury's capitalized on his name and provided a perfect ocean view sea-food experience. Cassie and I watched the sun set (oh so romantic) and the ferries come in, while Germany (I think) was defeated in the World Cup. After dinner we found the night market. It was set up in the central park type area of Stone Town, and probably a hundred or so vendors had set up food stations all around. They sold everything from fresh seafood to Zanzibar pizzas, which were just crepes folded and filled with chicken, beef, and even Nutella and bananas. Even though we had gorged ourselves at dinner, Cassie and I still managed to devour a dessert pizza.

Content but exhausted, we sunk into our beds and fell asleep in our first air conditioned room since Rwanda. The next morning we ate breakfast and wandered around a bit before grabbing an iced coffee and a taxi. Off to the airport once more, our mini vacation was over. After an hour of waiting in a disgustingly stuffy and humid airport lounge, we boarded the tiny plane and waved goodbye to the most relaxing four days of our journey.

Our favorite taxi man was waiting for us when we landed in Arusha. We were greeted into the town by disgustingly congested roads and the hottest weather we had seen for almost the whole time we've been here. Stinky and all travelled out, we grabbed a burger at our favorite cafe and made our way home.

I realize how far behind I am on keeping this updated.. But I'm working hard on getting myself all caught up! I've got some great stories from the past couple weeks. Can't wait to share them!