Sunday, October 28, 2007

Rainbows and Unicorns

I'm suffering from writers block... How can you keep people interested in your story if there are no uncomfortable conditions or hidden twists? And here I thought I had a chance at being a good writer. Anyone can tell a story if the events alone can hold the audience's attention. It's relaying the info when things are good that separates a writer from a hack. I fear that I may fall into the latter category, but I'll give it a go just in case.

In short, things are good. But before I explain what I've been up to, I should elaborate on my motives behind this 7-month journey. For the benefit of those who may not know, I've always wanted to go to Nepal. And specifically, to see Mt. Everest. So much that I planned this entire journey with this trekking section as the focal point. Basically, no one but my parents would have known that. So yes, there was an underlying method to my apparent madness described through the ordeals of the previous entries. Knowing that trekking in the Himalayas was in my future has been my lifeline more than once. I am the ass and it is my carrot dangled in from of me as I stumble through India and Africa.

The time had finally come and it has been a surreal experience. My expectations were met as soon as I got on the bus for the "8 hour ride." I used the quotations because that was supposed to be the time it took to get us to Jiri (the starting point of the trek). 2 flat tires tend to add on a little, though. More like 12 hours. But nothing could have gotten us down. Do you want to know why? We rode on the roof the entire time. The road wound through the foothills up and over the passes. We made ourselves seats in the luggage and stared at the vista of mountains on the horizon. This was probably my first actual sight of Everest but I'm not counting it because I couldn't pick it out of the lineup.

So the bus was an unexpected bonus to an already incredible trip. I think I will spare my audience the details of our day-to-day activities during the walking part and lump them in together as best I can.

The trip took 21 days. We walked an average of 7-9 hours in total per day. My only criticism was that someone should give a little lecture to the Nepali culture. They are firm believers making straight lines from point A to point B. The first 7 days were spent climbing straight up a peak, then straight back down to a river. It had me dreaming of all those nice flat lake walks around the Twin Cities. And I mean straight up... no switchbacks or anything. We were given a thorough butt kicking for a while and I reached previously unheard-of amounts of sweat excretion on a daily basis.

Which leads me to another major point. How much food do you think you have to eat to avoid losing weight on a trip like this one? I'm afraid that was a genuine question because we haven't found the answer yet. Here is an example of our daily ingestion:

Breakfast- 2 egg omelet, large pancake with jam, coffee.
2nd breakfast- about 300 grams of cheese with a box of crackers.
Brunch- trail mix
Lunch- Dal Baht. This is the national dish of Nepal and deserves an explanation. It's a heaping plate of white rice, a vegetable curry, and a lentil sauce all mixed together. They keep refilling your plate until you cry or pass out (or both)... it's ok, but I miss Indian food.
Mid-afternoon Snack- usually more crackers and a snicker bar.
Dinner- At least 2 entrees and an appetizer. And don't forget the apple pie.

That was our best effort and it did no good at all... We are skinny. So much that I'm afraid of getting yelled at when I return home in a month. Sorry Dad, I tried. Please tell Jackie that we will have to double our chocolate milkshake efforts over xmas.

The trip itself was essentially two stages:

Jiri to Namche Bazaar (8 days)- Up and down and up and down until you can't take it any more. Almost no one does this part. They prefer to skip it and I understand why. More for us, though, and we enjoyed being the only tourists on the trail
.
Namche to Everest Base camp and back (13 days)- Entirely above tree line. 3500 meters to start, then up to 5500 meters in elevation at the highest point... I don't know how to describe the beauty of those mountains except to say that there is no way to capture it in a picture (we tried a lot, though). It's the kind of beauty that can suddenly make you want to cry and you don't know why.

I got my first real glimpse of Mt Everest watching the sunrise on October 17th. How do I remember the date? Because it marked exactly 5 months of travel to get there. How cool is that? Do you want to know what I felt when I saw it? ....Eh. It's not actually what you would expect. The others in front of it stole the show. But I did make this realization... It is true when you hear that the journey is more important than the destination. For me, it turned out to be more about getting to Everest than being there. It took me exactly 5 months to get there and seeing it made me realize just how great everything else has been along the way. Sorry about the use of an old cliche, but it was the best I could think of.

We gave ourselves 6 days of rest/internet splurging before starting another trek. Here are my questions I can't answer about all the world events we missed... When did the Rockies become good? There are fires in California? Is Hillary really going to be president? Brett Favre isn't dead? ... Really?!

So we were left with many questions on our mind, but no time to dwell on them. It was onto the 7 day Annapurna Trek, or victory lap, as we like to call it.

We treated this trip a little differently than the previous one. It was time for a new set of goals because we had already earned our merit badges for physical accomplishment. So here they are... Apple pie every night (no exceptions), 1kg of chocolate to be eaten freely, and as many fake stories and patronizing smiles to be handed out to other trekkers. Our last fake story was that I'm an aspiring Astronaut and Lindsay is a cowgirl. I saw her lasso-ing a herd from my rocket ship and we ran away together. It's more interesting than repeating the same old story about two kids from Colorado. The patronizing smile part goes a little like this... Head cocked, no teeth showing, hands on hips, preferably when you are descending a hill they are climbing. It takes some practice, but the end product is well worth it.

You may not understand our reasoning for all of this, but how else can you keep laughing if you spend everyday with the same person? We've kept it up somehow, but the material is getting a little thin. We both agree that there may be a public wrestling match of sibling sized proportions in our futures. Our conversations have recently dwindled down to arguments over whether the word "poop" is an onomonopia (you know... pooooooo...p. You can tell which side I'm on. Feel free to weigh in), or reenacting old SNL skits. The latest laugh is from the superfans (da Bears!). "Hold on! Hold on! The name of the hurricane... is Hurricane Ditka!" I'm sorry if that isn't funny for you, but it's enough to make me smile just writing it down.

28 out of the last 34 days have been spent walking and I have a great deal of respect for Lindsay (mostly newfound). Not just for putting up with me, but for the amount of pain she's been through. She started experiencing knee pain on the 2nd day of the Everest Trek and it hasn't gone away since. Anyone who can relate to that pain will tell you that the last thing you want to do with a bad knee is climb and descend mountains everyday. But she never complained. She is the toughest person that I have ever met and deserves all the credit in the world... I gave her the spirit award for the trip. You know, the one they always give the fat kid at track and field day?

This has been a hard update to write. I tried once 2 weeks ago and couldn't finish. I think it was because I hadn't gotten the closure that I was looking for. I found it on the roof of the bus riding back after our 2nd trek. It was going out the way we came in and it felt like I had finished something important. Except this time we got caught in the rain. But hey, it makes for a fitting end right?

So now it's on to bigger and better things. Maybe some White Water Rafting, or bungee jumping. We'll have to see. All I know for certain is that there is another long train trip in my future too because my flight is out of Mumbai on December 4th (that's 55 hours of trains away right now). So stay tuned because things are going to get interesting.

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

A Lifetime in a Week

I think I was still in the North of India when I last wrote. The prospect of pushing "back" and checking from the previous post gives me the shivers. Waiting for these dial up connections have put years on my life. Or maybe it's just been the events of the last week.

So lets do a quick recap of Leh, or paradise as I like to call it. It's a small Buddhist village where we stayed in a guesthouse filled with beautiful gardens. Every male is a gentle old man that greets you with genuine kindness when you walk past. It sounds a little like this. "JOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLAAAAAAAAAYYYYY!!!! Jule jule jule jule." In reality, they are saying "jule," which means hello/goodbye/please/thank you in Tibetan. I loved that place. We rode camels to the border of Tibet and drove the group crazy by singing the entire score from "Aladin" (again). Yes, we are American. I've come to terms with that. The prospect of leaving a place like Leh for a place like Delhi makes you wonder what you have done wrong. Maybe it's from a past life. That's what a Buddhist might say.

Delhi was Delhi all over again, but at least we knew what to expect this time. I want to add two more articles to my list of things on/in the streets. A man with elephantitis of his "you know what," and human excrement. Yes human... and I am winning the race for how many times we can step in it in our sandals. Or losing. Let's just say I've done it more than once.

But I've described Delhi before so let's get to the point. Our plan was to find a flight to Kathmandu and get out as fast as possible. That should be easy right? WRONG! Here's a little known fact. There is not one seat available on ANY flight to Kathmandu from ANYWHERE in India until mid-October... I didn't see that coming. After an hour or two of fretting, we concocted a plan to make a trip out of it. Here is a small overview of the immediate future for us from that point. Train to Agra (Taj Mahal), overnight train to Varanasi (Ganges River), overnight train to Gorukphur (shithole), bus to border, bus to Chitwan Nat'l Park in Nepal. Four full days of travel in all and some experiences that have put greyhairs on my head.

So this is my opinion of Agra. "Rickshaw! Rickshaw! Postcard! Postcard! Where are you going? Where are you going?" This was the chorus that followed us through the streets. We drew a lot of attention and only deserved a small fraction of it. But what can you expect? We were in the most "touristy" place in India. To not see it coming would be like visiting Mt Rushmore and acting surprised to see cheesy T-shirts and small plasitc sculptures for sale. That being said, however, the Taj Mahal was worth checking out. Every piece of marble is perfectly handcarved and placed. It suited my OCD mind too because the structure is perfectly symetrical down to the millimeter. We whiled away most of the day taking extra goofy pics and causing some general distress among the middle aged and older demographic of tourists that surrounded us.

We thought we could save some stress by adding a layover night to our journey and sleeping in a bed in Agra. It didn't exactly work out that way. The plumbing in our hotel went awry somehow that evening while we slept. We were greeted with an unpleasant sight from the hallway in the morning and it was the smell that actually woke us. Bad omen? Maybe.

Let's just skip the events of the rest of our 2nd day in Agra for this post... I wouldn't mind having those hours of my life back.

So we got out of town in search of the next big adventure. I should point out the obvious here and say that trains are not the easiest place to sleep. They stop every hour or so and men walk up and down the hallway yelling "chai!!!" I would like to insert a sidenote here that I love my mother. She gave me a small stash of sleeping pills a long time ago and I found my emergency to use them. She is the reason why I made it through.

Varanasi takes an extreme amount of patience to enjoy. This city is overflowing with people and the Ganges river is not much of a sight, although it does have record amounts of fecal matter. But, it is the place of origin for the Hindu religion and people travel from everywhere to bathe in the Ganges. We spent the day fighting off cute little girls trying to sell us Karma candles and taking in all the vibrant colors. I hope I never have daughters because they will walk all over me. They can sense my weakness because they know I think their cute.

The torrential rains started shortly after dark and we were forced to head to the Varanasi train station a few hours early. We had heard that it was busy, but I think I can safely say that is the biggest understatement I have ever heard. There are literally piles of people. Train stations are a good place for people watching. It was mostly just people watching us, though. Here is a list of things we observed during our brief visit: thousands of Indian people, 4 white tourists (including us), and a dirty begging child that grabbed us in the dark when the power went out. We found a place to sit and played cards. Not because we wanted to, but because we had to. We ignored the stares and our play was only interupted twice. Once by an old man wearing a green plastic bag for a hat. He stopped, walked up to us, put his hand on his knees and his face about 12 inches from our. His stare was like he was looking at fish in a tank. It's hard to prepare for that sort of interaction. Here is our dialogue:

Lindsay: Mike, what do I do?
Mike: I guess just ignore him.
L: How?!!
M: Well, let's try to think of the reasons why we shouldn't kill ourselves.

(pause)

M: Ok, I have one. We have some gum to chew. That's it, though.

He did leave eventually and we have a new inside joke to laugh about. The second interuption was one that makes you think a little. There was a cow making the rounds through the station. Who owned him? Which train was he riding? Which bunk would he be on? How can he avoid stepping on people here when I can't? Here's the tricky part, though. He was on the middle platform. That means he would have had to go up and down a flight of stairs and a walkway to get to where we saw him. Hmmmmmm. Another thought nugget to occupy my time.

Let's speed up the pace here. Our train did come (one hour late), Gorukphur IS a terrible town and there is no reason to go there, the bus to the border of Nepal was 6 hours and not the 2 we thought it was, we endured four hours at the border waiting for our crowded bus to leave, and yes, we DID get a flat tire 1km out of town. It rained the entire time too. But we made it to Chitwan National Park. All we wanted was a shower and a good night sleep. There is no way to describe how dirty we were, so I won't. We didn't get it. There was no water pressure and I slept in a bed with blood stains.

I'm sorry for being so graphic but I'm trying to paint a picture here. Things needed to start getting better soon... They did. We switched hotels and the sun came back out (in my soul and outside). Then we spent 3 days in a village in South Nepal. We took canoe safaris and jungle walks. We rode elephants in search of rhinos and tigers, then we swam with them and they sprayed me with water from their trunks. I had just enough time to visit the elephant breeding center and feed the babies cookies before catching a bus to Kathmandu (where I am now).

Together, we feel like we have been tested. We passed, but barely. I feel like I've lost a little innocense along the way. But the upside is that we are weathered and these Nepali touts and scam artists here in Kathmandu seem soft to me. They don't know what we've been through to get here. The end product is that I have this feeling like everything is going to be alright now.

We leave tomorrow to trek to the base of Mt Everest for the next 22-30 days. We've earned it. Hopefully the next post will be all gum drops and lolly pops. Boring for you, but sweet relief for me. Wish us luck and I'll be in touch.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

What the Delhi-O?

I should have wrote this entry two weeks ago when the impressions were fresh and the size of this story was manageable. I'm in Northern India right now. The people here are almost entirely Buddhist and I am finally relaxed. I'll be heading toward the border of Tibet tomorrow. Or at least as close as I am allowed to go. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Lets travel back to the beginning of September when the adventure truly began. The story you are about to hear is entirely true. I suggest you go find some snacks and prepare before you continue any further.

Here are my first impressions upon leaving customs in Delhi... Everyone is Indian. Pretty insightful right? Well it may seem obvious, but it is an inevitable conclusion that everyone has to make when they arrive. And it's hot and humid. Let me elaborate on that... I was sweating profusely within 30 seconds of stepping outside. The initial adjustment to your surroundings are like taking a slap in the face, if your like me. You just try not to cry. Thank god we had an airport pickup. I don't know how I could have coped with the hoards of taxi drivers that are dying to scam you.

I should also mention that I have acquired a new traveling partner. Her name is Lindsay. She is yet another coworker from Wilderness Inquiry with enough adventurous spirit to join me. So we left together and caught a ride to a Tibetan Refugee Colony on the outskirts of town. Guess how much our hotel room cost? About $2 each!! And how much do you think our first lunch was? 15 cents! That's all I'm going to mention about the various prices we paid. Please be aware, however, that nothing gives me greater pleasure in life than a good deal. We spent the evening in jetlagged fits of sleep, lying in our own sweat on top of the sheets. Sounds nice huh? Just wait...

So we woke up the next morning and prepared ourselves for a day of exploration around Delhi. But, there is no way to prepare... Please allow me to paint a picture of what it is like riding into town. We took an autorickshaw. They look like a buggy, the engine starts like a lawn mower, and all you can do is close your eyes and pray for atonement when you find yourself in one. Now imagine 35W or your local interstate highway. Take away the lanes and the vehicles and replace them with these items from my running list: Rickshaws (passenger bycycles), auto-rickshaws, mini-taxis, wildly decorated buses, small children, beggers, boys selling coconuts, boys in wheelchairs, horse and carriages, donkeys, yaks, and elephants. This is a city of over 12 million and I am positively sure that there are no traffic laws. It is complete anarchy. If there is space in front of you, then you take it. Sometimes that means that you have to hit a couple people on the way.

Here's one good thing about Delhi for me. I feel completely anonymous walking the streets with Lindsay and I haven't made one baby cry yet. All stares are reserved for her and I am free to stare back all I want without being noticed. It's like I'm invisible. We estimate that she recieves a visual undressing or catcall every 2.5 seconds. India is not the country for a single white female.

So with freshly white knuckles, we arrived at Hanuman's Tomb. I'll spare you the history of it and give you a quick description. It is the temple from Disney's Aladin. We spent the afternoon trying to process what had we had already been through and wandered around taking pictures. I am still surprised when I see such an awesomely preserved relic and someone has the audacity to scratch "Rafy was here 2004" into the wall... Thank you Rafi, I will never forget you. I made the comment to Lindsay about how rude that was. She responded that maybe the family behind us thought I was rude for continuing to belt out the lyrics from "Arabian Nights" (Aladin's Theme Song)... Touche.

Our only real piece of business that day was finding out how we could buy train tickets to Agra to see the Taj Majal. I am sad to report that I was duped. It serves me right for thinking I was such a knowledgable traveler. Shortest version of the story is that we were convinced by a taxi driver that we should head to a travel agency instead of the train station to purchase our tickets. He recieved his commission and we were delivered into a tourist agent's lap. His was Shaquille btw, no joke. And I thought there could be only one person with a name as ridiculous as that. He told us that there were no tickets to Agra left for the next day (lie number one). Then that we couldn't catch a bus North because it would be too long and uncomfortable (lie number two). Before we knew it, we had bought plane tickets to Srinagar, the capital of Kashmir. What just happened? We're going to Kashmir? Isn't there a war there or something? Those were our retrospective thoughts at the time.

So we decided that was enough Delhi for one day and took a ride back to our nice little Tibetan Village. Only the driver dropped us on the wrong side of the highway. Remember my description of the roads? Well, now picture us in race stances on the wrong side waiting for our window to cross. We tensed and it was almost 5 minutes before we were able to run screaming across the road. I learned then that many Indian drivers will actually swerve towards you and not away. No theories about why yet... Over population? Please bear in mind that this is all happening in the first 24 hours. But, what's done is done and we started the next leg of our journey towards Kashmir.

I'm sitting here staring at the computer screen now. I have no idea how to describe what it's like to spend time in this particular part of the world. Kashmir is like a paradox. Our ride from the airport was delayed sitting in traffic so a military convoy could drive through. There are men with Oozies or Ak-47s on every corner. Surprisingly, they made me feel more comfortable because I didn't like the way everyone else looked at us. But in the midst of all the tension and squalor is the most beautiful place I have ever laid eyes on. I'm finally in the Himilayas. They are beautifully green here and there are virtually no other tourists. I couldn't decided if we were geniouses or fools. We spent the next two days living on a house boat. We rode boat taxis to water markets and relaxed watching golden sunsets on a crystal clear lake. It was a great way to get the Delhi out of your system.

So we decided that we weren't ready to leave just yet and booked ourselves into a 7 day trek. We camped next to raging blue creeks and saw only gypsys and shephards the entire time. Seeing gypsys? This was a major selling point on the trip for me and I have no idea why in retrospect. They have these giant dogs that look like wolves. I was attacked by one while day hiking to a glacier. I stabed at him with my trekking pole while the gypsy woman threw rocks. She seemed to think it was funny! He didn't get to bite me, though. Thank god too because I learned afterward that the closest rabies vacine is in Bankok. It was a reminder of just how far away from home I am. And also a little bit of foreshadowing.

Lindsay started to get sick that day. She was having pains all over and her throat closed shortly after dark. Her breaths were in gasps and I had no idea how to get this girl to Bankok. We were not consoled when our uneducated and sexist guide, Ashref, decided that she must be on her period and that everything would be ok. This was coming from a man that thought California was the capital of the USA and spent the week trying to convince me to give him 100 Euro so he could mail me maryjuana back home. Thanks, but no thanks Ashref. But we stuck out the night without much sleep and learned what the cause was in the morning. Our hired tent was made out of old ripped canvas and apparently also pretty moldy. Lindsay learned that she is allergic to mold and I learned how to handle Anaphelactic shock (sp?). We spent the rest of the trip sleeping under the stars and I get to call her the glass woman now. So even this story has a happy ending.

So those are the highlights of Kashmir. Except that we watched our pony fall through a rotten bridge into a river. He fell about 20 feet, but was ok. Our pony men (Zuhur, and Gwalom) loaded with up again with luggage as soon as they got him out of the river. Someone call PETA! Then I found god sitting on a cliff... but I lost him again in the hate and suffering that makes up so much of Srinagar. It's easy to find God when you're surrounded by the beauty of the world. The hard part is holding onto that feeling. Kashmir is a great example of the point and counterpoint for belief or disbelief in the supernatural.

9 days near the border of Pakistan and we were ready for a change. We took a 2 day bus straight into the himilayas (which was actually not that bad). At the end, we found ourselves only 450km away from where we started. That's an average of about 20km/hr. But the road was narrow with no guard rail and we felt the we were going fast enough. So now I'm in Leh, deep in the Himilayas. The culture is Buddhist and the feeling is relaxed. There is no place I'd rather be. It's a time for digestion and recooperation before returning to Delhi and then to Nepal. We've earned it.

Sunday, September 2, 2007

Ireland is Splendid!

The last two weeks have been spent in recooperation. I past the time enjoying the beautiful scenery and my father's company... and his wallet. This particular entry does not have one single story that can compare to the others that I've already told, so I forgive you if you choose to skip it.

Here is an example of my mind-state entering Ireland. I'm standing at the customs desk and the officer asked me what my golf handicap was... What's this man up to? He had stamped my passport before I even had a chance to respond. I stood there for a few seconds and said "is that it?" He said "yes" and I was in Ireland. No language barrier and not one person asked me for my shoes. Yep, I was free to go wherever I wanted. I just didn't know where. So I stopped by the tourist info desk (they actually have one) and they booked me a room without any surcharge. Then they sold me a bus pass and I was on my way. I had completely forgotten how easy things are supposed to be.

It was dark by the time I arrived in the city center and it occured to me that I haven't really been outside at night for almost 3 months... So I went for a walk. Just because I could. I popped on the old mp3 player and tried my best to get lost... but I couldn't. There are signs directing you to various points of interest. Can you believe that? I couldn't. I spent most the night with a big smile on my face. It was like all of the more difficult parts of African travel were being washed away from me. It was raining and I couldn't have cared less. I mean, it's supposed to rain in Ireland right? Wrong. It hasn't since that night.

And I got to see my dad in the morning! It was like getting the band back together. We started our crazy adventures by renting a car and finding ourselves a nice B and B (Bed and Breakfast). He thought the place where we stayed that night was too noisy... I informed him that I did not hear one rooster crowing or cow mooing and, therefore, it could not have been loud.

I should give a quick description of my dad before I get too far. He's 63 years old and he doesn't move as fast as he used to. But I want to put the qualifier on that statement. It's a mental choice, not a physical ailment (he has a lot of those too). It seemed like he was always a few steps behind reading a sign, or taking a picture. For me, looking at him is kind of like seeing your reflection in one of those circus mirrors. We're so similar that it's scary sometimes. We both have a cheesy sense of humor, for instance. But, there are parts of him that separate us too. There are so many things that I admire about him. He has this uncomprimising sense of right and wrong. He is appalled by litter (there was a lot here). So much that it will undoubtedly be part of all his accounts of our trip. And he seems to have a very categorical mind. His journal of our trip was more like an itinerary of events and places.

My mind is not categorical. Here is how our days went by: Wake, eat, walk or golf, drive, eat, walk or golf, eat and drink, sleep. There you have it. 14 days of events in one sentence. But, let me elaborate of some of the finer points.

The good:
Traditional music played in bars. People will just show up with their instruments and start playing. Sometimes they don't even know eachother. There were some incredible muscians too. Not all of them, though. We listened to this lady belt out a song i've never heard before. But it wasn't hard to tell that she might have been in the wrong key. "WAH- DER- FERD!!!!!" (waterford). That's not going to be easy to forget.

Ms McCarthy. She was one of the ladies who ran one of our many B and B's. One of the most maternal people i've ever met. Dad made me take a picture with her.

The laughs. We had a lot of them. I also learned that I am very good at helping other people finish their meals. But not the other way around. Dad reached for my powerade once and I blurted out "you have your own!" before I could think about the ramifications. He kept "his very own powerade" for the rest of the trip. I never heard the end of it. He even slept with it on the pillow next to him once. He past it down to me when we said goodbye, and I lost it before I could drink it. I honestly didn't know if I wanted to laigh or cry.

The Bad:
Our last B and B. We should have known better. The house smelled like old people and it was filled with teddy bears wearing sunhats. The lady informed us on our arrival that there would be no breakfast in the morning... So what does the second "B" stand for? Her dog barked all night and Dad gave her a piece of his mind. The end product was that we got a refund and an awkward departure in the morning.

The Ugly:
My golf game... It's terrible and no one on the course was safe. I was playing beautiful courses and usually shooting my second shot from the opposite fairway... If I could find my ball.

I've never had two weeks pass so fast. It felt like we had just hit our stride and then it was time to part ways. This traveling thing has become a cycle of hellos and goodbyes and it feels like I've been dumped every time.

I got over it by heading to Belfast in Northern Ireland and here I am. There is so much recent history here. Actually, it doesn't feel like history at all. All job applications ask whether you are catholic or protestant and religion is a difficult subject to discuss. I got lost yesterday and wandered into a parade. A man on the street told me that they were celebrating "a fella that died in the troubles." I walked a few steps away and had to turn around to learn more. I guess this guy was shot and killed by the police 10 years ago. He was part of the Ulster Fighting Forces and had been on his way to kill a member of the IRA when he died. Now he's been martyized as a part of "the troubles."

Here's what I saw. Broken glass everywhere and everyone was drunk. Every building had these elaborately detailed murals of men in black masks and carrying guns. The messages were things like "never surrender" and "our revenge will be the laughter of our children." You could feel the tension and hate. But I never really felt unsafe. Just that I could never really understand what it must be like to be on either side of that kind of hatred. I spent the rest of the day walking until I couldn't think anymore. Then I watched "Team America" with all the German people in my hostel. It was sureal.

And now I'm on my way to London. I'll be living the good life with with my stepdad for the next few days. I heard that he'll be bringing me some clean trousers too. Apparently they don't approve of zip-off pants at the London theater. And I'm four days away from heading back into the developing world... I hope I'm ready. Wish me luck.

Saturday, August 18, 2007

Revelations After 3 Months

Once again, I've let myself get so backed up in relaying my story that I don't know where to start. This is going to be a long one so feel free to make some popcorn before you get started

I believe I last wrote in Nairobi. I was enjoying a few days of rest without any real definite plans or time constraints. I can't say that I've had that same sort of experience at all since then. In fact, I don't believe it's possible to fit more travel into the last four weeks than I have. I'm finally going full steam and loving every minute of it.

I want to offer one quick perspective on Nairobi before I get too far... It's not as bad as you would think. The city has a certain charm after a while and you feel like you've really accomplished something once you can get around and use the transportation system. I split my time here staying with my friend Muthoga in 'Eastlands' and with Rebecca in 'Westlands.' Eastlands is where the Kenyans live. It was nice. the apartment was big enough to share the bed and we lived behind a series of steel doors and padlocks. They made me feel safe, yet wary of why they might be neccessary. I experienced more culture shock in Wstlands than anywhere else. The upper class white people live here behind their gates, banana trees and butlers with killer dogs. Rebecca and I crashed a party that we were indirectly invited to (I'm still not exactly sure how). We had filet mignon and everything else that we could fit in our pockets. The other guests at the party told me all about their chateaus in Switzerland and their homes in New Delhi. Suffice to say, I was the only one wearing zip off pants. I think the affluence was more shocking at the time because of what it was surrounded by. Most people in Africa live hand to mouth and we were eating bacon-wrapped beef. But, that is just part of the story. To sum things up, I felt completely safe the entire time in Nairobi. Although, I never went out after dark and I was pickpocketed for my cell phone once. Oh, and a corrupt police officer with an AK-47 threatened to arrest me if I didn't give him 1000 shillings ($15 USD)... I did. You would too. Maybe the feeling of safety is just an illusion, but I was happy in my dreamworld.

Now on to the fun stuff. I was fortunate enough to return to Naro Moru with Rebecca and her coworker Mike, this time as a tourist. We climbed Mt. Kenya together over the course of the next few days. I could write this entire post about that mountain alone. It was beautiful. But, I'll limit the details to the summit day for the sake of keeping all of your interests. We hiked toward the peaks for three full days and endured the elevation related sicknesses to set ourselves up for the big summit push on day 4. The idea is to start early in the morning so you can reach the summit in time to watch to sun rise. We left at 2:30 AM. I was wearing everything I own and using a headlamp to light the way. Our guide managed to lose the trail for a half hour and we ended up crawling on a 40 degree scree field for a small stretch. There wasn't much of an incentive to stop, though, because it was so cold. But, the milky way was beautiful and I can check "hiking at 1600+ feet" in the dark off of that life list now. We were the first to arrive at the summit by 20 minutes, even with the small detour. The view was spectacular! It was one of those moments where you get to sit back and watch something truly beautiful unfold. I should say that I'm still an agnostic, but seeing something like that will definitely make you take one step closer to God's side.

Mt Kenya was more fun than I ever would have expected. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen, but I've never laughed more in the small period of time than I did on that trip. Anyway, we finished successfully and parted ways with Mike. He was on his way back to meet his dad at the airport and rebecca and I were onto the next mini adventure in Lake Naivasha... But we had to take a few more matatus (minibuses) to get there. It was basically the same story I've told before... I still had to pee and we spent the day fending off hawkers and corrupt bus conductors trying to scam us out of our money. One man asked for my shoes... I was wearing them!! But, I found a nice way to relay this message and we moved on. There was one point, though, where I looked around and tried to memorize the scene. It was a stuffy bus in the middle of nowhere. The road was bumpy and our driver was playing static over the radio full blast. Here's the best part, it was raining and the passenger in front was traveling with over 500 punds of onions. Who does that!? And what am I doing here for that matter. It was not the first time I felt that way and probably not the last.

Lake Naivasha was worth the trip. We camped at on the lake and enjoyed a "backpacker style" atmosphere for the first time since my arrival in Africa. The lake itself is surrounded by electric fence. It's about three feet high and they say that it will keep you safe when the hippos come out of the water to graze. That's right... I said hippos. In my opinion, the small electric fence (regardless of the voltage) will not stop a hippo if they want to get through. Apparently it didn't. We heard they a camper had been killed the previous year.

But enough details about that. The reason why a person would want to risk his life and stay near the hippo lake is so they can go to Hell's Gate National Park. We rented bikes and split up for the day. In the shortest possible explanation, I rode my bicycle next to galloping zebras and waited patiently for giraffes to finish crossing the rode. It feels a little different not to be inside a big safari van. You find yourself looking for lions in all the tall grass. I've heard that human meat is delicious. And we loved the chance to make our own way. You hardly ever get a chance to do things without a guide in Kenya.

I said my goodbyes to Rebecca after two more days of fun and caught a bus back to Nairobi to meet my new traveling partner. Her name is Annie and we worked together at Eldora last season. She's the only person I knew that was crazy enough to meet me out here (she just read my blog for the first time and called it lame btw. But, I forgive her). In a way, Annie is the reason why I've made it this far without giving up. She bought her ticket back in May so I've known all along that going home wasn't really an option. But enough about that. She was finally here, which meant that I was coasting to the finish line of my days in Africa. We've spent the last three weeks traveling like actual tourists and enjoying a relatively organized trip itinerary. I didn't want to scare her off from traveling to the "developing" side of the world so we went straight onto safari the day after she arrived to see the great wildebeest migration.

It's hard to describe what a wildebeest looks like to someone that hasn't seen one before. I guess you could say they're in the horse family. But, they look like God scraped all the extra body parts into one creature when he was done. For the sake of saving time, I'll just say that they travel over 1000 miles through Tanzania and into Kenya during the dry season. They also provide subsistance for every carnivore along the way. I had aspirations of seeing something epic. Maybe something involving crocadiles fighting lions over a kill... it never happened. But it is worth it just to see over 10 million wildebeest in one area. It was great team work along the way too. Annie took the pictures and I drank the beer.

We finished the safari and made our way back to Tanzania to get ready for Mt Kilimanjaro. It was my chance for a victory lap through the old stomping grounds in Moshi along the way too. I loved it. We rode the mini-buses and stayed with one of the local volunteers in town. It was exciting to see all of kids at the orphanage and at Kilimahewa Secondary School. I was worried that they would remember me (the little ones at least), but it turns out that I had nothing to worry about... I was swarmed. Annie was a little less enthused and I don't blame her. She'll probably kill me for telling the world, but she caught travelers' diarea the day before we started to climb Kilimanjaro.

I would say that the major difference between Mt Kenya and Kilimanjaro is that one is fun and the other is a test. I thought that I would have been prepared after Mt Kenya... I was not. There is no way to prepare. Climbing up and down a 19,300 ft peak over 6 days is not as easy as it sounds... Now imagine climbing it while having to use the bathroom every twenty minutes. I'll just say a few words about the summit push in the interest of saving time. We hiked all day and reached our camp at about 14,000 ft. This left us about 5 hours to eat dinner and rest before setting out again to the summit. I tried my best to sleep, but I'm not sure that I did. Anyways, we "woke up" again at 11pm and set out in the dark again. 7.5 hours of climbing straight up with a headache and your stomach in knots is not as fun as it sounds. I was within minutes of giving up (something I thought I would never even consider) when we finally made it for the sunrise. I'm not ashamed to say that I cried a little. Watching the sunrise from the top of the world is truly moving. We spent about 15 minutes on the peak and made our way back down into town. I've decided to omit a few interesting stories from the hike. Mostly because this post is already too long. Just know that there is more to tell if you ever feel like buying me a beer sometime down the line.

So the work part of the trip was over and it was time to relax. Is there a better way to do that than lying on a white sand beach? We made our way to Zanzibar Island and did just that. We stayed in a little bungalow and the most exciting part of the day was watching the tide go in and out. I couldn't have been happier. Beaches have a sort of universal discription to them. My favorite part was that ours was uniquely African in a way. We would watch the women wade into the water as the tide went out and tend to their "sea weed farms." They would fill up their bags with all they could carry (which is a lot... these women are strong), and carry it on their heads in a huge sack. Watching people finding a way to live off the land while we read books and were pampered creates a certain feeling of displacement. I'll never truly be able to understand what that might be like no matter how long I stay here.

6 days in paradise and we were traveling again. I went from the beach, back to Nairobi, then to Dublin in 24 hours of straight travel. I said goodbye to the continent that touched my life, and a traveling partner that I'd gotten used to. Then I saw my dad... it was an overwhelming mix of emotions.

It's been almost a week now and I should be writing about Ireland. I'll do my best to bring some closure the my experience in Africa. Here's a list of things I will not miss:

1- Traditional Dances: I'm a terrible dancer they always make me participate. Plus, you see them everywhere you go.

2- Being a public spectacul: I'm freak here. I make babies cry and people stare with no shame on the street.

3- Hawkers: No I would not like a haircut, or your tee-shirt. I will not give you my shoes and I don't have any candy.

But I will miss this:

1- The smells: I never realized that I grew up in an odorless country. For better or worse, I'd rather things smell the way they should.

2- Women with stuff of their head: I just thought this was a great way to travel. I wish I was coordinated enough to do it.

3- Colors: Not much explanation necessary. They wear them, and we don't.

Here are a few deep revelations:

1- African people pick their nose a lot: They do. Probably because there is no tissue

2- Actually that's all ive got.

So there you have it nicely organized. Sorry again about the length. I probably could have omitted more than I did. As a sidenote... Ireland is nice and I'm living like an old man. Our daily excitement comes from deciding which golf course to play or which Bed and Breakfast to stay... Yep, life is good.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

What a Long, Strange Trip It's Been

Wow.... This is my first opportunity for an update in almost 3 weeks. I feel completely overwhelmed with the amount of information necessary to catch you all up. So here goes, please bare with me as I regurgitate as many details as I can remember.

The shortest possible explanation that I can give would be to say that nothing works out the way that you would expect it to when you have chosen to travel the way I have. I should have never even written that I was on my way to Uganda... I never made it, but I did get close. If that is enough to hold you over, then please stop reading here because there is a lot to cover.

I spent another night or two in Nairobi getting a feel for the city and trying to organize my plans with Harry. He wasn't feeling so hot and was a little worried about leaving Western medicine indefinitely. So we decided that I would take the bus to the Kakamega Rainforest close to the border while stuck around to rest. I would wait for him there. I don't blame him for sticking around. Harry has already suffered through a bad case of malaria (he had a 104.5 degree temperature the day I met him). I would have made the same decision if I had been in his position.

So I took the bus into the unknown... It left two hours later than it was supposed to by the way. And by bus, I mean "African style bus." It was medium sized and stuffed like a clown car with people for most of the journey. There was a point where it started raining and the door flew open at about 60mph. I guess it was broken because they tied it shut with twine for the rest of the trip. I had to smile because I was experiencing something that almost no one else gets to... Or maybe I was just laughing to keep from crying. I still don't know. And the roads were terrible... I mean comically terrible. We were bouncing off the ceiling at different points. These buses stop in every major bus station and wait to fill up with more people. Meanwhile, I had my first experience with total anarchy on this trip. All of a sudden, there were over 20 villagers on the bus pushing every vegetable you could imagine in my face. I had no idea what was going on. I was the only tourist (and by that, I mean white person), and there was zero English. I'm not going to lie, I experienced a little bit of traveler's anxiety.

Here's one discussion up for consideration. Where do African people pee? Honestly, I have never seen a public bathroom. That was my reasoning for dehydrating myself. So I spent 9 hours on the bus... dehydrated with a headache... and I still had to pee. But, the view outside the windows was beautiful. The ecology of western Africa is exactly what you would picture in your head. It's the greenest place that I have ever seen. There are scattered farms children playing in the the fields. Sometimes they chase the bus waving their hands. I think the bus provides a great deal of the daily entertainment for most people. So you can imagine there excitement of seeing me.

But I made it in one piece and spent the next three days reaping the benefits of my struggle. Kakamega Rainforest is beautiful and lush. I did day hikes and saw things I never could have imagined. There are trees that actually eat other trees! I have pictures to prove it. There were butterflies of every color on the paths and in the canopies of the trees. I would sit on the porch and enjoy a beer with other travelers every night while I waited for Harry to show up.

He never did... and thats where things turned upside down. Apparently, Harry made the right move by staying in Nairobi. He called me three days later to tell me he had given up. He had pneumonia and would be getting on the next flight home... So now I'm stuck in Kakamega with no traveling partner. Suddenly, Uganda and Rwanda didn't seem like such viable options. I would say that this was probably the psychological low point of my trip so far. The only optimistic thing I could think of was at least I didn't have pneumonia. It's times like those were your only consolation can be the sadistic pleasure of knowing it could be worse.

I immediately called my friend Muthoga and begged him to let me join the trip building the classroom all over again. They were happy to have me, but it meant that I had 13 more hours of busing fun to reach them before they left on safari for 4 days. I left before the sun came up the next day. The security guard from my hostel walked me to the bus stop, gun in hand. He kept telling me "don't worry, You're safe." It's saying like these ones that seem to have an adverse effect. I felt less safe every time he said it. Here was a point in my journey where I realized my naivety. We walked through some serious slums. It smelled terrible, and there were street people who had built fires to stay warm in the middle of the city! I've never seen anything quite like that and I hope I never do again. It was like being in a movie. One where they show you a city that has gone to hell (batman, or the crow come to mind). That being said, however, I did make it to the bus with no real problems. I'll spare you the details of the actual journey over the bumpy roads. Just know that it was just as much fun as my first bus trip... only longer!

I can't emphasize enough how happy I was to see a familiar face in Naro Moru. All I wanted was to know that I was taken care of and that I wouldn't have to do something like that for quite a while. I realized when I got there that I had never even really thought about what I might be doing here at the base of Mt. Kenya. I was surprised and elated to learn that I would be doing a homestay for the next week. It was a small house with three rooms filled with a mother, father, three children and their 16 year old niece. Broken down cardboard boxes provided them with ample wall paper and the floors were made of dirt. They cook over a fire in a shack around the side of the house. I would try and sit with them while they cook, but the smoke would make tears stream down my cheeks. They, kept asking why I was crying. They have two cows, two dogs (one of which wanted to eat me... truly terrifying), and chickens that have free reign inside and out of the house. This may seem like a description of poverty at first glance, but I realized that they were very lucky after a day or two to of soaking it all in. All of the children are in school. Michael (the father) pays for their education (barely) by growing cabbage and running a small carpentry shop. They are surviving. Which is more than I can say for many of the other people I've met along the way.

We were successful with the classroom too. The kids worked hard to get the project done in time. We were surprised to see how grateful everyone was to have it too. I guess that the kids had been learning under a tree before us. Oh, and we had some fun along the way too. Our weekend excursions took us all over Kenya. We camped on safari and watched some baboons run a distraction while others open one students bag. They stole her towel and power bars. I'm still trying to figure out why they need to dry off after a swim, but I'm impressed with their strategic organization overall.

The tale end of our journey took us to Lake Nakuru National Park. Imagine turning a corner and seeing a fresh water lake... Only you don't even know what you're seeing at first because it's bright pink. This is where the flamingos live. Now I can check "seeing 3 million fluorescent pink flamingos in one place" off of my life list. It wasn't just the sight of them that was so incredible, it was the collective sound they make. It was like a loud melodious groan. Kind of like a more subdued biker gang all revving their engines at once. I was blown away. And we topped it all off by staying in the park and watching the sun set over a classic African setting. It was a field filled with gazelles.

All in all, I would say that missing out on Uganda was a blessing in disguise. I have experience more in three weeks than I ever would have thought was possible, And I wouldn't take anything back in retrospect. Not even the bumpy roads or buses. Because that is the trip that I've chosen to take. You have to accept that situations like the one I had to go through in Kakamega are an inevitability. I came to the realization somewhere along the way that this is not a vacation for me. It's a life experience and you take the good with the bad. Muthoga told me over a beer once that there are two ways to travel through Africa. There are volunteers and there are tourists. He was a little critical of tourism saying "a person will fly to Nairobi, fly to Masai Mara, and go on safari to see the animals... but what did you see? That's not Africa." Those words have stuck with me and I believe I have found a third was to travel. It's being willing to be flexible and trying to experience as much as possible. I want to be able to say that I tried to see all that Africa has to offer by the time I'm done. I will climbed the highest peaks, rode the most crowded buses, learned as much of the language as I could, seen the animals, lived on the ground and in villages. I've given back wherever I saw an opportunity. We've built schools, taught students, and sent the brightest ones back into mainstream education. Yes, I think African has made a permanent mark on me.

One Last Update on Kilimahewa

To all of those who were willing to listen,
I apologize for the lack of communication on my behalf over the last few weeks. The last 3 weeks have been a whirlwind of hellos, goodbyes, near disasters and redemption. all without any real access to the internet. I am currently back where I started in Nairobi. Opportunities for international communication here are better than anywhere else in Africa, but still not very good. So please bare with me through the occasional typo.
I want to get the message out to everyone that took an opportunity to help me with my project at Kilimahewa school. Our efforts to provide an opportunity for a better life was an astounding success. Together, we were able to raise close to $8000 US. All of the credit should go entirely to all of those who were touched and chose not to ignore my pleas for help. The money is enough to send all eight kids back to school! Each student has signed a contract and will submit their grades to my partner in the community after every term.They know that they will be taken care of for their entire degree if uphold their end of the bargain and continue to excel academically..
I had a tearful goodbye when we said goodbye almost 3 weeks ago. It was a mixture of joy and sorrow that I have never felt before. On one hand, I was seeing some of the sweetest kids I have ever met for probably the last time. On the other hand, we chose the same day to announce that were successful in finding sponsorship for all eligible students. I wrote some more thoughts and posted pictures on my blog. Feel free to check them out at indulgingthewanderlust.blogspot.com if you are interested.
Here is a brief rundown of exactly what will happen next. I had initially expected that my pleas for help would fall on mostly deaf ears. Call me a cynic, but I knew that most of the people I would be reaching out to share a similar socio-economic status as me. Basically, it is hard to part with money that you do not have. Thankfully, I have never been more wrong in my life. Within 24 hours, I already had received more almost $2000! That number kept on growing with each passing day. The other side of this coin is the positive relationship between the amount of money we would be contributing for the students and the responsibilities associated with it's distribution. I was left with all new hurdles to jump over.
Perhaps the most important problem that I was confronted with was how to enroll these kids in school without them knowing that I was the one who was responsible. There is a fragile relationship between the volunteers in Africa and the people we serve. If my students knew that I had raised the money for them, they would expect other volunteers in the future to do the same. I would be hurting the program that I owe so much more than I was helping it. My solution was to create the Moshi Scholarship Fund and have all of the eligible students apply for an academic sponsorship. I still think it was pure genious! We helped them write a little about themselves and also try to articulate why they wanted to go back to school. Here is the a little information about the students that you have all helped to support. As a side note, There is a lot of confusion at my school about students' surnames. I have omitted them in the following summaries:

Tumsifu-
Tumsifu is 17 years old. He is the eldest of the students that are returning to school. We literally had to beg the director of education to allow him back in. Apparently there is a strict age limit for starting secondary school. Tumsifu has lost both of his parents, I did not have the heart or stomach to ask how. He lives with his grandmother and spends every afternoon working on their farm. He was forced to stop attending school after his parents died because there was no longer any money to spare. His dream is to someday become a teacher.

Baltazary-
This boy is one of the most amazing people that I have ever met. We became very close during my stay in Moshi. He was always waiting at the school when we showed up in the mornings. I discovered after a few weeks that he has been writing out his own Swahili-English dictionary. He has over 800 words writin in his notebook. There were times during my six weeks of teaching at Kilimahewa when we were very short handed. Baltazary took over as interpreter, tutor, manager, whatever we needed from him.
Baltazary is lucky enough to still have both of his parents, although he does not live with them. He is actually from a village far outside of Moshi. Kilimahewa is the only informal school within 100km. Baltazary was so desperate for an education that he moved in with another family so he could be closer to us. You may notice that he is in a disproportionate number of my pictures. He is the boy in the green shirt.

Edward-
We almost lost this one and I still have my concerns about Edward. He is smart and quiet. It took me a while to get him to feel comfortable around me. I was able to learn that Edward lives with his mother. She is disabled and I hear that she is very sick. Edward never mentions his father. He is either dead, or a deadbeat. Regardless, he is not a part of Edward's life right now. We had to search all over town for this kid to tell him that we could send him back to school. He was at home taking care of his mother. I worry that he may not make it through all of his education because of his living situation. But, he deserves a chance.

Josephine-
I probably know the least about Josephine. She sat in the back of a large class and did little to distinguish herself from the rest. I looked up all of her previous grades after we learned that she was eligible to return to school. She had quietly scored almost perfectly on everything that we could find. As a side note, I have a newfound empathy for teachers in public schools. I can see how good students can go unnoticed in crowded classes. It was hard for me to probe for more info without giving away my role in her scholarship. It would have been easier to probe for more information if I had already developed an academic relationship with her. So I chose to let her remain in anonymity. I did learn that she has lost at least one of her parents, but I do not know how or why. Although, she was one of the most visibly happy when we made the announcement last Friday.

Christine-
Christine is 14 years old. She lives with both parents in Moshi and is one of nine children. She has one of the most captivating smiles I have ever seen. You can judge for yourself on my blog. She is the one with the clean white shirt and blue skirt. Her clothes are less tattered than the other students because she was in public schooling until very recently. Her parents could not afford to continue. The timing is perfect for her to return to school because she has only missed one semester. It is like she was never gone at all. She will once again be among her peers of similar age and I have no doubts that she will stick it out until the end.

These are just four of the eight kids whose live we have touched. I have already told you about Felista. The others I have actually never met. They were former students at Kilimahewa who had already enrolled in school at the time of my arrival. A previous volunteer had worked hard to get them back into school. Their funding had just run out, however, so our efforts were very fortuitous for them.
I apologize for the length of this email and again for it's tardiness. My life has been consumed in this project. I want to thank everyone of you with all of my heart. Together, we have given 8 street kids a chance for a better life. the rest is up to them. please feel free to contact me with any questions and I will do my best to answer them as soon as possible.

Sunday, July 1, 2007

Saying Goodbye and Starting the Next Leg

I am in Nairobi right now. I arrived last night...No one there to pick me up... No phone number to call... No idea where to go... And in by far the most dangerous town in Africa. So the adventure began the moment I stepped off the plane. Although, I'm lucky enough to have an old friend living here for the summer. Her name is Rebecca, we have worked together at Wilderness Inquiry for the last couple years. She is working for the UN focusing on Southern Sudan. They are in the process of drafting a constitution and moving toward autonomy from the rest of the country. That was about all my tiny little brain could retain from our conversations. But basically, she's living the good life in a gated house with a pool. We met the kids that are building the classroom in Naro Moru (remember the trip that i just decided to skip?). They seem very nice and I have a tremendous amount of respect for what they are doing. I know I wasn't capable of that when I was their age. But, I wanted to do something more crazy.

I have decided to start making my way out to Uganda, then hopefully to Rwanda by bus, or train. It would be pointless to lay my whole plan out, because then I would look like a fool when things turn out completely different. To be honest, I have no idea what will happen over the next 3 weeks, so wish me luck. I'm sure there will be plenty of stories to tell afterwards.

I just bought a cheap bus ticket out to the middle of nowhere and I leave tomorrow morning. There is a rainforest slab called Kakamenga where you can do some pretty cool hikes and see all sorts of animals. It sounds interesting and it's definitely off the beaten path. It's on the way to Uganda too. Harry will be my traveling partner for now. I purposefully omitted his last name because I don't know it. We met volunteering and he goes to the University of Michigan. So I think that would put him somewhere between 19 and 22 years old. That is the extent our our knowledge of eachother. I think it makes for a better story that anyways. His plan is to stick around Nairobi for a couple more days, then meet me wherever I am. So I'm on my own for a while... But I'm actually not that scared. I feel pretty good about traveling.

That being said, however, my last few days in Moshi were really tough. All 75 kids from Kilimahewa came together to send me off. They made me cards, wrote speeches and sang songs. Then we made the announcement that we were able to send all the kids that were eligible back to main stream schooling (8 kids in total). I was not expecting to get so attached to these kids. I spent about an hour fighting back tears.

Then I had to do the exact same thing at the orphanage that been visiting in the afternoons. This goodbye was even more difficult because the kids don't understand what it means to be leaving forever. They kept saying "kesho" (tomorrow). It was terrible. I heard recently that you can never come all the way home from a long trip and now I know that it's true. There will always be part of me that remains in Moshi. But now, It's onto to the next mission. It looks to be interesting, so I'll be in touch...

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

I'll Never Be Tired of Seeing Dik Dik


It's been so long since I last wrote on this blog (almost 3 weeks!). The time seems to be flying by me faster than I was expecting. There is a zen that can be found in the simplicity of daily life here. I run through the village every morning at dawn and watch the sunrise over Mt. Kilimanjaro. It's truly the most awesome land feature that I have ever seen. It rises to over 19,000 ft from sea level! Along the way, I see women carrying bunches of bananas to the market and children walking to school. The village is just waking up and startling to bustle. Basically, I know that things will be alright when the day starts like that.

I teach Geography now at my school in addition to English. We are learning about Latitude and Longitude. I'm trying to incorporate everything they know into one class so they can see that what we learn is completely applicable. We do basic algebraic equations and the class is taught in English. Then I do my best to translate into Swahili until they get my drift. My Swahili is good enough to sound like a 6 year old child and their English is at about the same level so we can usually meet somewhere in the middle.

For anyone that may have missed my last mass email, I have also become active in trying to get some of these kids back into the mainstream schooling system. They are so smart... they deserve a chance at a better life. I asked for financial help from anyone that was willing and hoped to raise enough money to send one of my sharpest students to a secondary school. I was blown away by the response that I received. It seems like the message reached quite a few people. Their support has helped me gross almost $6000! That money will allow me to permanently change the course of 7 students lives by sending them to school. But, more money also means more responsibility on my part. I have been working hard setting up a student scholarship fund in Moshi. My primary concern is finding a way to insure the longevity and sustainability of this funding. I want other volunteers in the future to be able to do the same things that I have done without having to start all over.

My days have been filled with various tasks and life is deceptively busy. On one hand, I have never spent so much time just sitting and talking without any real distractions or interuptions. We have this tendancy in the US to turn on the television, or play with our cell phone, or page through a magazine when we are left you only someone else to entertain us. I have not even seen a television since I left over a month ago. I thought the withdrawl would be difficult, but it turned out to be entirely non-existent. I read, and write when I feel like being alone and I walk through the village or visit one of the orphanages when I want some company. On the other hand, I have felt like I am in a unique postion to leave a permanent and positive effect on the community before I move on. I want to attain a non-profit status for my scholarship fund as soon as I can so I can continue to fundraise in the future. Then there are lesson plans to make each night, school supplies to buy in town, and an entirely new language to learn. Not to mention my need for a tasty beer before I sleep whenever possible.

I went on Safari last weekend. PLEASE MAKE A NOTE... do whatever is necessary to experience this before you die. I have virtually no chance of relaying through words what I feels like to be among so many animals and see such a condensed circle of life. But I'll try... It was like I had traveled onto the National Geographic channel. We saw every species of animal that you can imagine: Zebras, Wildebeest, Gazelles, and Dik Dik (small deer) living amongst Lions, and Hyenas. There were Hippos in the water while the Buffalo drank their fill. The Giraffes ate leaves off of the tallest trees and families of Baboons and monkeys hung from every branch. At one point in time, we found our jeep parked between a mother elephant and her calf... She was not happy and it was truly exhilerating/terrifying. She started thrashing around and I didn't know whether I should continue to snap pictures, or hide and pray for my life. Obviously, I kept on snapping away like a tourist, but it was scary nonetheless.

But, by far the most amazing experience was seeing a Cheetah. We found him sitting in a field. I couldn't believe it! he had attracted a small army of jeeps by the time he decided to get up and move around. He started walking right towards our vehicle and I kept taking pictures every second. I figured he would turn around at any minute... but he never did. He walked right past us. I mean he was no more than 10 feet away from me! Then he started walking straight towards a group of Zebras and Gazelle. He took off after them and the chase ensued for about a minute. A Cheetah moves everybit as fast as you've seen on the television... All the animals got away. But, it was funny because half of the jeep was routing for the Gazelle and the other half for the Cheetah. I was left with this feeling that I had truly just witnessed something unique. But, there was a part of me that wondered if this was just another day in the park.

To sum everything up, life is good. My experiences have been everything I hoped and I've been able to connect with the culture and community more than I could have ever imagine. But, I still miss my life back in the states sometimes. Inevitably, people and things move on with or without me. I miss all of you terribly... please keep in touch. I will do my best to do the same. Until next time...

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

First impressions of a whole new world

Ham Jambo!!!!

Greetings from the motherland! I saw the date today and could not believe how quickly the time has passed since my arrival in Tanzania. We move at a different pace here called TFT (Tanzania Flexible Time). Basically, I expect that everything I try to get done will take at least twice as long as it should (hence this email's fashionably late status).

So what can I say? First... I love it here!!! I live in a village outside of a moderately large city. We have a small market place, and one primary school. But it is only a 40 minute walk into town if I need something (like this computer). Tanzanians are the friendliest people that I have ever met. Everyday, the children smile and yell MSUNGU!!! (white person), or MAMBO!!! (greetings) as we take the bus to work. Sometimes they chase the car just because they can. My home base is surrounded by banana trees, and we play futbol or have a beer with the locals most nights after dinner.

My volunteer placement is at an informal secondary school for kids between 10-18 years old. This is a free school for children that are orphans, or cannot afford the $40/year to go to public school. The most important point Im trying to make here is that these are kids that are excited to be in school, and want to learn. They love us and we love them back. We help them with their English, Math, or Geography and they help us with our extremely limited Swahili. It is day 10 here, and I am still trying to get my greetings down (there are so many!!). We are expected to come up with our own lesson plans everyday, and it was a little overwhelming at first. But like all challenges, the payoff is that much more when it's all over and yoiu know you've tried your best. It's truly one of the most satisfying feelings that I have ever experienced.

I have also taken on some extra responsiblity helping women in the community start their own business selling Batiks (different cloths that they make and decorate). We are working on getting a loan from the bank, and I am helping them with basic accounting and micro-financing issues. Basically, Im working on a system that will make sense for added up, expenses and keeping track of revenue. The work is diverse enough to keep me on my toes and it is about all I can handle right now.

Serving the community has completely changed my outlook on how I want to travel through Africa. I realize now that it is not about seeing everything, it is about taking some time and truly experiencing a new culture. I feel so strongly about this that I have chosen to extend my stay here in Moshi by 3 weeks through the month of June. Oh, and I still get to travel on the weekends. I have visited Mt kilimanjaro (not the peak, though), hiked a few incredible waterfalls, and also through some natural rainforests looking for monkeys. There are also plans in the mix for visiting the coast for some world class snorkeling, and fun in the sun with the other volunteers. There is more than enough here to satisfy my every need.

There is so much to write from so little time here that I feel a little overwhelmed trying to get it all into one posting. So expect that there is more to come... I miss you all and there are pics on the way, so keep checking and keep those emails coming. I try to answer every one...
salama
Mike

Sunday, May 13, 2007

Hi everyone,

For anyone that may not have previously known, I leave for Tanzania on 5/17/2007. The idea is to volunteer as a teacher's assistant for the first three weeks, then spend the rest of my time in East Africa heading up through Kenya, and on to Uganda. After about three months, I fly to Ireland to meet the fam for a little vacation from the vacation. A 1st world country and some familiar faces will hopefully reenergize me to get back on the horse and keep going. Then it's on to India indefinitely. I don't want to get too far ahead of myself so I've taken it easy on the planning for that leg of the journey. All I know is that I have a one-way ticket to New Dehli and we'll see what happens. At least that's the plan so far. I kept the itinerary flexible because everything can change in a minute. This blog should be a good means of communicating what actually does happen to anyone that cares without bothering the people that do not.

I've been wrestling with the idea of sending those occassional mass emails to everyone in my address book. But those generic, and sometimes lengthy emails can seem a little impersonal and more like SPAM in my experience. I figure this way anyone that really wants to know can get an update without me forcing it on them. So we'll see how this goes and I'll adapt as needed.

Now it's off to make a buck or two before I go......