School has officially ended for the
year and I have been on vacation since the end of November. As
mentioned before I was signed up to take the LSAT in Dar, which I did
on the 3rd of December, then traveled to Pemba to visit a
fellow volunteer.
Normally I would take the bus to Dar,
but I figured since I had some extra time I would take the train. The
train is about the same price as the bus, but it takes about twice as
long. As far as traveling goes here the train is really not a bad set
up. If you purchase a first class ticket on Tazara (combination of
Tanzanian and Zambia because the train runs between the two
countries), you are placed in a cabin with three other people. The
cabin has beds, a table and a big window to take in some really
pretty views (I saw elephants as we traveled through Sealous National
Park). The first class compartments also have toilets, showers and an
eating car with reasonably priced Tanzanian food. Not sure the Tazara
people understand the concept of a “captive audience”. The train
is overall in nice condition for Tanzania and if you are not a rigid
schedule then I might recommend it.
I arrived at the train station at 1 pm
for a 2pm departure. As expected the train arrived a few hours late –
4pm. Passing through the train station doors was an experience in and
of itself. There are about three or four double doors to the
platform, but only one is opened for about 250 to 300 people that are
going to board the train. As I think I have mentioned before there is
no such thing as an orderly line with reasonable personable space
between people. When the Tazara worker announced the arrival of the
train people sprung from their seats, strapped their kids to their
backs, piled their luggage on their heads and stormed the doors to
the platform. I can only describe it as a mix between black friday at
Walmart and holding a third class ticket on the Titanic. I jumped in
the mix and was squeezed through the doors and plopped out on the
other side. After boarding the train, it waited around for a while
and then we departed at around 5:30 pm. After settling in and
greeting the two Zambian woman I shared a compartment with I found
some dinner. Just as dark approached the train stopped because the
engine was broken and we had to wait for another to rescue us from an
hour and a half out. At this news, I went to sleep. The next day on
the train was pretty long. Thankfully I met a Canadian volunteer who
traveled from Botswana and we had a few meals and conversations
together. It was interesting to hear about how different countries
are in Africa even though they are so close to one another. The rest
of the train ride to Dar was spend reviewing old LSAT questions and
sleeping. At some point during the trip I looked down and saw light
radiating from the bottom of the stainless steel of the toilet bowl
and realized that when ever I used the toilet what ever I had just
deposited was not sent to a holding tank under the train, but
directly out on to the tracks-- Darjeeling Limited? The train finally
arrived in hot, humid Dar around 9 pm.
On Friday I went to the PC office to
get some more work done and meet with the new CD (country director)
EB, who was very nice and seemed really excited to be heading up PC
Tanzania. Andrea the outgoing CD is headed to Nepal to reopen the
post there-- pretty cool. While was at the office I also met three
PCVs from Mozambique who were traveling to Tanzania for vacation, but
got into a bus accident. After hearing of their experience I have to
applaud PC. They take great strides to make sure volunteers are safe
and healthy, even if they are not in their host country. After the PC
office, I realized that I did not have enough hot weather clothing to
survive my trip so I went to the only shopping mall in the country. I
was actually surprised to find that it looked like smaller shopping
malls in America. It is complete with clothing stores, fast food,
atms and a grocery store. All in all it was a very strange shopping
experience, coming from the village. I actually felt a little out of
place in my mshamba (farmer) kitenge dress and wide eyes.
Saturday around noon I headed to the PC
office to take the LSAT. It was actually pretty nice to be the only
one in the room, besides Frida my proctor. Overall all I felt pretty
prepared for the test since I started studying in April. I felt a
little more pressure having someone else time and watch me as I took
the test, but nothing that I would not have encountered if I took the
test in America. Now I am just waiting for my scores to come back
around the end of the this month or the beginning of next month.
After the LSAT, I met up with Justin,
another PCV who was headed back to the States for Christmas. I am not
sure what we actually talked about because my brain was pretty much
fried, but it was nice to see him. Afterward I had dinner with the
PCVs from Mozambique. It was really interesting to hear about the PC
experience in a different country. As expected there are many
similarities between programs, but also many differences. For example
because there is a housing shortage in Mozambique many of the
volunteers live two to a house. I think living with another person,
at times, would be really nice; however, I also feel it would also
really change my experience and would probably interfere with my
language proficiency. The education system is also different in their
country. It shocked me to learn that they were required to pass 50%
of their students and many students do not attend school, but just
paid teachers to pass them.
Sunday morning I went into town to buy
a ferry ticket to Pemba for the next morning. Not surprisingly I was
told that the schedule on-line was wrong and the ferry to Pemba had
actually left earlier in the morning. Making a split second decision
I bought a ticket to Zanzibar (Unguja) and one to Pemba for the next
morning, then rushed home to secure a hotel room on Zanzibar and
pack. The ferry ride to Unguja is actually really pretty once you
leave the Dar harbor. The water is a tropical blue and the air is
extremely salty. On the trip to Unguja you see many of the local
fishing boats or dhows. They vary greatly in size, but all look the
same. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3cnj1h_tM1w)
When the ferry beings to approach Unguja, you get the feeling as if
you've been transported back to the times of the spice trade. The
smaller islands are green and some posses tall white towers. The
Unguja harbor is filled with dhows, fishing vessels with Swahili
phrases written on their canopies and large cargo ships. One of the
first things I noticed, besides the beautiful sunset, were the
beautiful historic buildings that make up Stonetown, one of the more
famous towns on Unguja. They are very closely set and are usually
white with beautiful lattice work balconies. After leaving the ferry
and having my passport stamped by immigration I attempted to find the
Flamingo hotel. Foolishly I thought it would be relatively easy to
navigate Stonetown, but I was completely wrong. This was yet another
time I was glad I spoke Swahili because I was so lost in the narrow
alleyways that I had to ask for directions. I arrived at the hotel
a little worse for wear and was given a room with three beds for the
price of a single, since all of the singles were booked. I should
also mention here that on this trip I found the surface of the sun--
Unguja/Zanzibar. It was over 90 degrees and about 200% humidity-- no
lie. After peeling off my sweat soaked clothing and showering, I
headed to an awesome restaurant, which I am currently forgetting the
name of; however, it is located right around the corner from my hotel
and looks like something out of Swiss Family Robinson. Half of the
restaurant is located up stairs and the other half is covered over by
a vine ceiling. After sitting down by myself, I ordered a
non-alcoholic mojito (Zanzibar is about 95% Muslim, so alcohol is
pretty hard to find) and sweet and sour prawns with basmati rice. My
meal was absolutely amazing. Maybe the best food I have had in
country to date. After dinner I found my way back to the hotel.
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| Sign on Unguja that says ,"Don't park cars here" |
Monday morning I somehow found my way
back the port for my 7 am ferry to Pemba. On board I met two really
nice Germans who were on vacation to escape the cold weather and get
some SCUBA in. I have to say I really admired that they lived a
pretty reasonable life at home in Germany so they could save up for a
really nice month of traveling. They said they had been to Fiji,
India, Philippines, some countries in South America and a handful of
other place I forget. I guess if it was just me and my spouse I would
opt for a lot of traveling too! After arriving in the Pemba port I
boarded a coaster that took me three hours to Doug's site in Konde.
Notes on Pemba: Pemba is very different
from Unguja because the natives are not as used to seeing foreigners
who are not Muslim and as such I was forced to cover my head whenever
I left the house. I should say I was not forced, but I was stared at
and attracted unnecessary attention if my head/ hair was exposed.
The town of Konde is mid-sized village
located on the Northern end of Pemba. Doug lives in your typical PC
house complete with two bedrooms a living/kitchen area, courtyard and
toilet room. His house is situated right on the road, which means
many of his students and other people from the village come over to
visit unexpectedly at all hours of the day. While I was at his house
about 4 people a day came to say hi, sit awkwardly in silence in his
house and stare at me. This occurrence is something I am actually
quite used to here. Tanzanians, for some reason, like to visit each
other and then just sit around not talking. After about 10 or 15
minutes they get up, say goodbye and leave. I really have no idea why
they do this, maybe to save face, but it is strange none the less.
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| Henna Artist |
After downing about 2 liters of water,
or the amount I had sweated out since 7 am, Doug took me over to the
house of one of his students where a Henna artist was waiting.
Thinking I would just have a nice small design drawn on my hand I sat
down on a mat on the floor surround by about 20 people all curious to
see how the henna would look like on white skin. After about a minute
I realized I would not be getting the small intricate design I longed
for, but I would be getting the real thing. The artist covered both
of my arms up to my shoulders and both of my legs. After she was
finished two girls filled in the paces with an orange dye and I was
left to hold out both of my arms until the henna dried. It was a
pretty tiring process. After about 2 hours, a few tubes of henna,
some laughs from the onlookers I looked like I had just stepped out
of the tv show Miami Ink. Doug and I thanked the mamas and the artist
and said good night to everyone. I bolted right for the shower to
rinse off the encrusted ink on my skin and to see the final project.
To be honest I would have never opted for the full works, but I said
to myself, when in Rome.
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| Trying to not get the dye on my clothes |
The next morning we found some coffee
in his village and I was hit on/ proposed to by every single man in
the village. Apparently in training they forgot to mention that henna
is a huge turn on to Muslim men. I was also asked by a rude man at
the coffee stand why I did not have my head covered. I simply said
that I did not feel I needed to cover my head because I am not Muslim
and that if I was a Christian then that would be reason alone to not
cover my head. I am not sure he really understood my response and
from then on to avoid anymore comments I put a scarf over my head.
That night in the village I was also proposed to by a man at the fish
table. On the mainland men will ask white women to marry them, but
after they are told no once or twice they usually drop it. The
Pembans are different. This man would not let it go. He insisted on
marrying me. He took it so far that Doug got involved/ really upset.
This incident is just one of the few things I have learned to shake
off here. The culture is so different sometimes that you cannot get
upset, you just have to deal. After our coffee trip, we checked out
the new secondary school that was built buy a Chinese construction
company, but backed by some Germans. The school is really beautiful
and looks like schools you would find in Southern California. The
rooms are connected, but the walkways in between are open. All of the
classrooms have three fans, outlets and nice blackboards. The school
is also equipped with three nice labs and teachers' offices. Needless
to say any volunteer who laid eyes on this school would probably
start to salivate.
On my last full day in Pemba, Doug took
me to the beach to go snorkeling. The road to the beach runs through
a really cool forest with monkey and tropical trees. The first beach
we went to was absolutely beautiful, but because of the wind and the
rain from the day before the water was a little cloudy to snorkel, so
we headed over to a place called Swahili Divers. The reef right off
of the resort is small, but filled with colorful fish, sea urchins,
coral and seaweed. The water was aqua blue, bath water warm and
really salty. I have to say that snorkeling in the Indian Ocean has
to be one of the coolest things I have done during my service, as far
as traveling goes. After returning home we both passed out from being
exhausted and later had dinner at a neighbors house. There are two
American families with 7 kids between them that live with in a few
minutes of Doug. At Sandy and Reed's house we had red snapper for
dinner and played some board games until the power went out and the
heat was pretty unbearable without a fan. I have to admit he is very
lucky to have them around, especially because he lives in such a
different community then most of us on the mainland.
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| Beach in Konde (Northern Pemba/ Indian Ocean) |
In the morning I woke to a monsoon
outside and the unpleasant thought that I would have to be traveling.
After trying to find the bus to the port I was told that it had
already left and that I would need to take the slower dala back down
the island. This was not great news because if the boat left on time
I would definitely not be on it. After swearing like a sailor and
realizing my pants were now see-thru because of the rain I got on the
dala in hopes I would make my boat. Amazingly five minutes down the
road Doug called my phone and said he had found a car that could take
me to the port... another sanity saving moment in this country. In
the end I made it on the ferry with my ticket in plenty of time.
Although he may not agree I had a really great time visiting Pemba
and Doug! Thanks again!
The ferry back to Unguja was a little
stressful because I realized that my preferred method of
transportation home, the train, was completely booked. So I called up
my trusty taxi driver Stella who found me the last ticket on a bus
home for the next day! I arrived, sweaty again, in Unguja, fended off
my suitors, found a ticket on the ferry to Dar and waiting the
hottest, most uncomfortable line ever. To make matters worse we had
to wait around for another 20 minutes in the hot weather because the
ferry had been over booked. We arrived back in Dar at 7pm, where my
plan to take a taxi to the hotel was quickly abandoned when I
realized there were no taxis available. Left with no other options I
set off to find the hotel on foot, in the Dar, by myself without a
map. I eventually ran into three women who out of the kindness of
their hearts escorted me to the hotel. Later I met up with some
volunteers for Indian food and a chance to catch up. In the morning I
headed out on the bus, which was actually air conditioned and had
reasonable leg room and arrived home around dark.
Overall I had an amazing trip. At times
I felt like the Brave Little Toaster (great movie) traveling and
dealing with unexpected events by myself (for the most part) and at
other times I felt like a tourist-- lost and frustrated. This trip
made me realized how much I like the area in which I live. It is not
too hot, but sometimes too cold. The people are also friendly and
more accustomed to people from other cultures or religious
backgrounds. I thought the Zanzibar islands were absolutely beautiful
and that the Indian Ocean, around the equator, should be seen by
everyone at least once in their lifetime. Traveling by myself also
gave me a new sense of confidence and “can do” attitude. I think
there are many times during a volunteer's service when they start to
think they are incompetent or that the experience as a whole lacks
adventure and excitement. My remedy for either of these situations is
travel. I have never felt so proud of myself in this country as I did
on this trip. There were many times where I could have just thrown in
the towel and headed home because things did not go the way I had
planned. Save for one time, when I missed the bus and was practically
crying and screaming, I kept my stuff together. I have said it before
and I'll say it again after this whole PC experience I will never
complain about traveling again in the US. Hell, I may even be the
first person to be smiling while being interviewed on TV because I
snowed in at an airport at Christmas saying, “not as bad as the
time I lived in Tanzania”. The lesson here is people appreciate
that you can book your Amtrak ticket online, that your cell phone
alerts you that your flight is delayed before you leave your house
and that if something says it is going to depart or arrive at a
certain time, it does.
Well I have a few more things to add,
but I feel this post has gone on long enough. Hope everyone at home
is doing well. Miss you all!!!
All my love from TZ.
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| Konde |
