Drama in Greater Moshi

Kigomboni Guest House, Computer and Car Shidas!

The days after arriving back in Moshi from South Africa have been slightly less hectic, but infinitely more complicated.  My gratitude at being in our A-5 house in Moshi is always a relief.  We could even forget how annoyed we were with Kenyan Airlines and Precision Airlines when we were met by Carol at the door, and driven home to the coziness of A-5.  Rose had even picked more Easter lilies for us so the scent in the house was perfectly sweet.

Carol Sangawe our wonderful project driver

Trish at mini waterfall

beautiful views

It became more fuzzy when we were asked to set a hash on the spur of the moment.  So, all focus was on the location, the supplies, cooking and preparing for this event. Our first challenge was that our “guide” in Kigomboni Freddy was very happy to rent the guest house gazebo to us, and to take us around, but he had a particular route that he was determined to take us on, and explaining the hash to him was not easy.  So off we went.  I tried to explain that we needed to make the path a bit complicated, not to stay on main roads (main roads means dirt roads that a car could travel (basically One car) but to veer off to paths that interlocked, went through coffee trees, banana trees or fields, up and down, across streams, etc.  Freddy was pretty sure that I really did not mean that, so he kept us on main road most of the time.  Each time we asked, he was like, “no not here, later” .  Eventually we gave up and at the end of the day the path was quite easy to follow, but very interesting and beautiful. 

 

finally on a path

 

One of the dearest parts of it was coming back through an old lady’s little nyumbani (collections of two or three small houses) and chatting with her.  We returned on Sunday to set the flour over the path.

last beautiful view we saw before car shidas

Just after passing this hotel, disaster struck

beautiful guest house

The drama began on Sunday when we set the hash.  The drive up to the guest-house was without any event until just before we turned into the guest-house. Suddenly John had a difficult time steering the car.  We thought it might have been a flat, but there was no flat.  But horrifyingly the right front wheel was tilted at a strange angle.  We limped the car inside the gate with no idea of what we could do.  Freddy offered to find a “fundi” (fix it man) once we had set the hash, and we gratefully agreed

For hashers, you know that you set the trail with flour. 

Flour marks the trail

 At certain points you make an X with the flour and that means that you have to search in all directions to find where the flour picks up. 

The X 

 The problem with this area is that people are quite suspicious of the motives of the white people, and you have to explain to them that the flour and the X’s have nothing to do with Their land, but only marking a path. So, you have to explain to everyone you meet that this is just a fun outing for a bunch of young and old walkers and runners where you are setting a pretty trail for them to explore the area with.  You ask their permission, they say “yes” and then the problem can be that after all that is agreed on, someone else comes along, sees the flour and is horrified and scruffs it out.  Or, even more likely, children come along and scruff it out, because that is what children do!  So, often, hashes are comprised of desperately searching for flour but it has been wiped out.  The potential at this hash was great for losing the flour.  But, everyone was very pleasant, as there have been several hashes at this area in the past.  Even so, John put a lot of flour down, and we decided to put only a few crosses.

Freddy talked with several people along the way about finding a fundi, and was given lots of advice.  When we returned to the start, he left to find the person, and we greeted the guests.  
 

Trish and John and William...what to do

fab place to party!

 Everyone was shocked at the appearance of “the blue jellybean” and agreed that it would probably have to stay for a few days in the mountains.  But as luck would have it, the fundi had been teacher for the government in mechanics for years and was now retired but teaching mechanics at the vocational school just down the road.  He agreed that one of the “tie bolts” had been sheered, and he would have to trie to cobble something together with parts that he had in his tool kit. He managed to piece together an old bolt that had no threads, a nut that was a bit too big, some sort of electrical tape, and put the wheel in the proper place.  He said to us “pole pole” (go slowly slowly) down the mountain” And hope for the best.  When we limped back to our house, John’s remark was “TOO MUCH DRAMA”.  I had no idea what he was talking about, until he explained just how badly the bolt fit on the car and how lucky we were to be both alive and down the mountain.  So there we are.  Drama. 

Fancy lady?  don't turn around because the slit in the back .....oops

My friend Terrie loaned me her saloon car for a day, and I got to be a “fancy lady” and now thanks to Deo our mechanic, the blue jellybean is back in operation.  YEA!

Our Car mechanic Deo with Terrie and Nikoli

Onto new adventures!

Moshi Week 6 Moshi to Mamba to Pangani

The two weeks have been packed with great times

Kilimanjaro from the wonderful hotel and restaurant Kilimakyaro.  Best place to have a beer!

       

John Julia and Charles at Kilimakyaro

Julia and Charles at KIWAKKUKI

Julia John Trish Dafrosa Eunice at TARWIF

Julia Charles and Sam with his Batiks

John and Lawi with the new amazing sculpture

Julia and Charles with Market Mama--colorful and delicious fruits and greens

Crazy kitty at Kilimakyaro

BaobBaob Tree with Honey on the way to Pangani

John and huge tree in Pangani

Julia and Charles in beautiful Mkoma Bay

Lovely Tented Camp in Mkoma Bay

Lovely Mkoma Bay in the morning

Sailors going out of Pangani to fish

Mkoma Bay boat at Maziwa Island

Trish after a long day in the Indian Ocean -sad hair

Sailboats in the Ocean

Fishing Boats go out to Indian Ocean

Believe it or not, the waves were huge behind us. We road them in screaming with joy.

Our hosts at Mkoma Bay Lisa and Ulrich with us at the last day

It is pretty awesome to be in Pangani.  Many memories.

The weeks have been packed with wonderful times, great guests and terrific family.  Living here in Tanzania has been one of the highlights of my life.  Meeting terrific people, Africans, Expatriates, and settled Tanzanian residents.  All have been friendly and welcoming to us.  It is a joy to be here even while we miss our friends at home.

Week One in Moshi...Work Fun and all

Our new Rooster, Magic (Johnson!)

Amazingly, the trip from the US to Moshi was good.  Somehow, we lucked out in Amsterdam and were reseated on the big 777.  It is a great plane, with comfortable seats.  Imagine that!  We were actually able to sit for the 9 hours without getting “bed sores” and to survive the full trip in tact.  When we got off the plane, the Tanzanian cool breeze of winter’s end reminded us of why we love to come back to Moshi. 

The customs’ officers gave us a break and we breezed through thanks to our Kenyon son Charles, and our travel to our home was easy.  There is so much new building on the way.  One would think that prosperity is blooming in Kilimanjaro, but sadly, the building belies the reality of the world.  The rich here, too, are getting richer, while the poor are much much poorer.  Prices are high in everything especially food, and with poor rains for the whole year, it is clear that the average person is going to suffer greatly.  Corn, instead of being harvested, just limply hangs in the fields, brown and dried up.  Cows are thin, though goats look delighted because they are eating all the dried up corn.

The days are already busy.  Pauli & Lucy decided to invest in chickens and they are fabulous.  They had also rebuilt our coop, moved it to a different location to make sure that the disease that killed the others won’t affect new ones.  And our new ones are fabulous.  I have been able to name the rooster (Magic after Magic Johnson), for sure my black and white hen will be “Chumvi na pilipili” (Salt & Pepper), Angel for the white one, Blue Heaven for the funny bluish one, Malika for the Black one and I am still thinking about my brown one.  Though silly, I find comfort in giving these chickens names.  They are settling into their new home. John and I think that the activity of chickens around the house may provide snake protection, and for that I would be happy!

The Kuku Girls in their new home

I was fortunate to be able to visit our great Duke Students in Mwika (or as I know now, Mrimbo Uuwo) where we had a nice visit and I congratulated them on the fantastic work that they had done during their nearly 8 weeks on the ground.  Kathleen, Brandon, and Joy not only entered patient records electronically, INCREDIBLE, taught a person how to continue the job and made a manual for how to keep it going, but also did community assessments and held seminars all over the Mwika area to provide feedback and some small prevention advice to the community.  The seminars were well attended, and the communities are begging for more!  I cannot wait to read their report.  Neha as usual is doing incredible work with her young primary and secondary students and clearly has earned tremendous respect in the area.  I wish we could clone her.  Just one sentence grabbed my attention yesterday. “The parents I talk with say that they used to see so many kids around on the roads during the day, drinking and just hanging out, but now there are no kids around, they are all in The Program”.  The program is the mentoring program that she and Katya started last year which has now grown in size, meets 5 days a week, and provides tutoring to both the secondary students and primary, as well as peer mentoring for the primary students 2 days a week.  Now the goal is to make it sustainable.

Brendon Kathleen Neha Me!  In Mwika

Last night John and I went to a wonderful Tanzanian wedding where one of our brightest medical students was married.  It was fabulous, though I think John provided quite a bit of comedy with his dancing. (no way to really describe it.)  The MC thanked the Wazungu Wazee (White old people) for coming to the dance floor. John and Sister Julitha from our clinic were given a lovely cake in honor of the KCMC-Duke project support for Michael.  There was a lot of laughter, probably at our mercy! The evening blended of all walks of people from our gardener to high-ranking officials.  Terrific time. And then Sunday we had one of our fabulous hashes, which as always lived up to our expectations.  It is a nice way to relax after a hard week. Be forewarned though Moshi-ites.  The police have a new speed gun between Moshi and Machame, and they caught us going 64K in a 50K speed zone.  As far as I know, no one has ever driven this slowly on the stretch, and I managed to distract the policeman with our new driver's licenses, thus making his speed gun fail!  (While Charles and I saw the speed, he was unable to get it back as he was so fascinated with the fact that we actually have legal licenses which as all my friendly bloggers know I got the hard way!!!)  Bob, John and I talked about what the trip to Dar or Pangani is going to be like if we have to adhere to this 50K/hour.  It might take days to get there!

Elizabeth and Iris, Cutest mom and baby award here!

Charles talking to new Kenyan friends

Bob and John discussing new speed rules

So now on to new adventures in week two. John and Charles will be in Addis for the MEPI meeting, and I will stay on here.  Hope I get caught up a little on sleep.!

Chapter 1 Moshi, Tanzania A Land of Love, A Land of Beauty, A Land of Poverty, A Land of Hope

Moshi A Land of Love, A Land of Beauty, A Land of Poverty, A Land of Hope
Chapter 1

This trip to Africa was brief. Two weeks consistied of making every moment count towards seeing old friends, catching up with things going on in the project and trying to keep out of making promises that cannot be kept. It was a time of wishing that I knew some information, and sorry that I know too much information. It as a time of feeing humbled by the number of friends who we have come to know in Moshitown, and by wishing that we had more right or better answers for the problems that have befallen so many of the people we have come to love. It was a time of feeling conflicted about many many things. And, yet it was home. How is it possible to describe the way it feels to wake up at 6:15 am hearing the African birds chatting away each and every day, to know that it is warmer at 6:30 than it will be at 9:00 am, or that today there will be rain when it looks the same way tomorrow and you somehow know there won’t be rain. How hearing the voices on the road during the morning and the singing at night (when it is Mambo Sawa Sawa) is part and parcel of this place you call home. Our old pal Barney, Russel and Kay's, and then the Wilkerson's old boxer, looked so lost and then the new German family moved in and he is up wagging his tail and looking just as happy as can be. A more adaptable boy I will never know.
The sweet black and orange kitties who decided A-5 would be better than B8 until Jean came home, and I helped them migrate back to B8 with full cream!
It is avocado time in Moshitown. 4-5 a day fall from the tree. "Mind your head!" They are so good. An avocado a day does what? Keeps your HDL high.


Our Gardener Pauli has decided to make shapes out of our bushes, and his topiary have included a small table as you see with teapot and cup, and a seat (just like on the porch) and another bigger table in the back yard with chairs all around it. It is a little more abstract I have to say.
This feeling in no way belittles the feeling of being in Durham or Boone, but it is a different feeling, deep and content. To walk around the yard, pick some lettuce, look at the flowers, feel the grass, saunter over to B8 for a beer in the afternoon. To go downtown and spend 30 minutes chatting with the hardware store owner about this and that, to hear about his health and to have his son chime in and then to walk out and to see smiles on the faces of other friends in downtown Moshi. These are people we would never come to know in the US, but here in Moshi, it is just part of life.
This is my sweet daughter Cipe from Moshi, in her last months of pregnancy, and Sarah, John's Duke colleague.
One day after flying into Moshi and being picked up by our dear driver and friend Carol (with yet again no bags) we grabbed some clothes, ran down to Aleems for food, and headed for a hash to West Kilimanjaro. This is an area that you don’t often go to. It is a land of plains, hills, big farms, Maasai, wealth and poverty. Thanks to Sarah and Kermin, we ran or walked these hills, following flour prints in the sand and scree and gravel until the little Masaii boys had ground it out with their bare feet. Their joy at giving us opposite directions was equally met with our confusion and a little frustration. But this is a hash and people wiping out the flour marks are just part of the game. It was all-ok. As Simon said, this is the most beautiful land in the world (if it just had rain!) And that of course makes all the difference. We walked by Masaii bomas where the mamas looked suspiciously at us but hoped that we would want to take their picture so that they could collect just a little money from these strange wazungus (crazy white people). But they greeted us if we shikamooed them, and Simon greeted each in Ki-Masaii and was solemnly greeted back.
The decorated Masaai with jewelry and bright checked cloth were rare on this hash because they were working in their boma, and not headed out to town or to visit with other bomas. But, each had at least one checked cloth tossed over their shoulder, and the children pushed their goats and cattle along looking for a small patch of grass, each laughing and calling at these strange people. Nicoli found treasures everywhere, rocks, special plants that needed his pocket knife. He doesn’t speak Ki-Masaai but does Swahili so he would give a little greeting to the boys who were shocked at this little mzungus who spoke Swahili fluently. Nicoli watching everything on the ground for treasures.

Masaai were actually and are actually everywhere in West Kilimanjaro. They consider it their land, and actually consider that all land is theirs if they are there. The farmers have a difficult time because they lose cattle to the Masaai, but the Masaai don’t find this a dilemna because if the cow wandered a way and agreed to join their herd, then it was part of their herd. Work this out if you are the land owner. The immense poverty in the culture of Masaai is one of the curiosities to me. This is their life, at least for most. And as we ran buy or walked by, we all talked about it, most in disparaging ways. Why? Well, it is a very different culture than ours. Concepts of ownership and wealth are totally different, belief in other forms of medicine, gender, children, all are pretty difficult for Westerners, and even other tribes in the Northern Zone.

But, the Beauty was all around, and the Masaai share in our love of the beauty, too. We are linked. I just digressed I guess. some beautiful flowers
happy hashers
The hash was the last for Liselotte and Martin. These two had been hashing for 6-8 years. (Liselotte and Martin) Amazing. And now they are “the leavers”, too. Both leave a huge imprint in the story of expats in Moshi, and it is hard to imagine that they will soon be gone to Malawi where they will start their own imprint. What defined this couple? Hard to exactly know as they at first glance are pretty different. Liselotte- music, determination, seemingly easy going. Martin- seemingly very easy going, crazy, just on the edge…. Such a part of the Moshi that John and I knew and will miss when we return.

It is also one of the last hashes for Sarah and Kermin. When I think of fun, I think of Sarah. Two more of the –oh well when we go to Moshi, we will drop in on Sarah and of course see Kermin. Sarah the hot Irish entrepreneur with Hostlehoff who put ingenuity to work and managed to start some girls’ programs, built an orphanage, mothered lost travelers, and could put just a few folks down the drain when it came to whiskey. Now the hole will be in our hearts when we travel back to Moshi and find them gone!

Because of my bad back, Greg had arranged that we spend the night on a big farm in a little guest house that had a lovely view. Since we had been drinking, eating tons of nyma choma (barbecue) breakfast and tour in the morning.
I felt like we were in a movie about the hard life on a huge farm in Montana, or oh yes, Africa. These were impressively hard working people, and all the kids are expected to work hard as well. Farm animals