Heat, Humidity and Henna

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 3^rd 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.  

Konde