Mama lion.
My favorites!
Ruaha mountains as the sun sets
Twiga!
A bunch of silly zebras.
The five lion cubs.
Ruaha entrance... The Great Ruaha River flowing under the bridge
Ruaha River
Our broken down Land Rover (don't tell Dad!)
Friday, February 29, 2008
Pictures
Mama lion.
My favorites!
Ruaha mountains as the sun sets
Twiga!
A bunch of silly zebras.
The five lion cubs.
Ruaha entrance... The Great Ruaha River flowing under the bridge
Ruaha River
Our broken down Land Rover (don't tell Dad!)
Bits and pieces
The place where we are staying, Hurume Baptist Center (actually isn't owned by Baptist anymore but they haven't done anything about replacing the sign), is also home to the Spring Valley Girls Secondary School. Secondary is basically high school so there are 150 girls from the age of 14 to 17 living and going to school here. They are hilarious to watch - and listen to. Nothing is spoken below a shout and no one is too far away to talk to. No inside voices. There are usually two or three of them wandering around together ('the wolf pack') laughing and saying "Wewe!" (you) in a tone similar to how we would say "you crazy!" except that it's a bit more high pitched and shouted. Even though they act like young girls, laughing and goofing off, they look older, more responsible. They've probably been taking care of their younger siblings since they were old enough to walk. Many families in Iringa are set up so Father is working (or at least away from the house), Mother is working around the house and/or running a small duka (shop) outside the house, and the kids are taking care of each other- the other day I passed a girl no older than 4 or 5 and she had her younger sibling, who looked like a newborn, slung across her back.
The girls at the Spring Valley School are in charge of things like cleaning the common dining area or hauling buckets of water from the rain barrel to their bathrooms. They walk across the grass, chattering away, with buckets full of water balanced on their heads. I want to learn to do that too! It's so practical- once you figure out balance and finally trust yourself. Once in a while we'll hear them when they're in their classrooms singing (especially after dinner) or cracking up about something. And recently they’ve taken to dressing in jumpsuits, singing, and running one grueling lap around the compound, the frontrunners lying on the ground every 20 yards to wait for the stragglers who like to speedwalk. It's fun to have them around- they're a constant source of entertainment. In the afternoons they have a break and visit Bibi Candy's duka. Candy doesn't have too much stuff in there - packets of cookies or juice - but sometimes she'll be making chips and eggs and in the mornings she fries up bunches of maandazi. Maandazi are like doughnut holes but larger and not sweet. Well, there is a little sweetness but mostly it's just a crispy outside covering a warm doughy center. I think about my mom every time I have them because I know how much she loves doughnuts, or just bread in general:) They are so good and the ones here are the best I've tasted so far. At 5 cents apiece it's easy to buy a bunch but hard to finish them all…and then feel sick. Munching on maandazi is a great way to break up the morning Swahili lessons- which are going really well. I've been in class for 18 days and I've learned a ton. I think that by the next Tuesday, when we’re off to Rufiji, I'll have a grasp on the language and it'll only get better in Mtanza. I'm glad that I've taken this course, even if just to get the basics before going somewhere I won't be able to speak English. Learning a language is interesting- you'll go through the day's lesson and understand what you're being taught and then you try to practice on your own and realize you don't have the vocabulary to complete a decent sentence. So far my sentences have been Swahili littered with English nouns (and half the time if you throw an 'e' on the end, it'll be the Swahili equivalent, especially if it’s a new technology of some sort). It's also fun to finally be able to catch part of a Kiswahili conversation and understand the gist of what they're talking about.
Hurume Baptist Center is about a mile from the town center and the road goes through houses and small shops. Daladalas race down the road throwing up dust (or mud as was the case for the first three weeks of the month, when it didn’t stop raining) and laying on the horn. Coming from town, they often cut the engine and coast, holding onto the overworked door to make sure it doesn’t fall into the gutter…or onto a child carrying a baby. There are two little calves that are always picketed on the side of the road- one white and brown, and the other the reddish brown. Nick has decided that he wants to adopt the reddish brown one because she's the prettiest cow he's ever seen. And I agree with him, she is a pretty cow, but I think we should start with a dog first! Once we get closer to town, the groups of kids start giggling and if one is brave enough they'll yell 'Wazungu', meaning 'white people' (or something of the sort – we’ve also heard it derives from something meaning “person who wanders overseeing plantation workers i.e. slaves) and then all the rest of them will chime in. They don't just say it once, either. It turns into a kind of song and can continue long after you've passed. I think it's funny, and kind of cute. If it gets annoying (with older children or, yes, adult men) Nick will sometimes ask, ‘Nini?’ (What?) or respond, 'Wafrica' (Africans). The older ones look confused, and the little ones usually get really quiet and then start cracking up. Or you just greet them in Kiswahili and they get confused that you know the language and hush up. Sometimes we'll get a 'Good aftanoon, SIR' (and it could really be morning or evening but it doesn't matter) or a 'Teacha!'. Many of the younger kids will greet us with 'Shikamoo' which is a respectful greeting reserved for your elders and is responded to with 'Marahaba'. I don't really know what the translation is- I don't think there is an English equivalent. I like saying 'Shikamoo' to the older people, especially the women, because their faces light up and it's as though you've unlocked a door. They are surprised that you know the word, much less use it—and it feels that because you have, you become respected, as well.
The market in Iringa is constantly bustling and there are tables and tables of fruits, vegetables, and dried fish. A while back we went to buy ingredients for guacamole. After talking to my dad about his upcoming week in Mexico, I had a sudden urge for Mexican food. Avocados are just now in season and they are huge- the size of a softball, maybe a bit larger. We were able to find ripe avocados, tomatoes, onion, and limes. Perfect! Just smushed it up and added a bit of salt and it went wonderfully with our dinner. My craving was curbed- although now a margarita is sounding pretty darn good, too...
Recently we went on a safari to Ruaha National Park! It was so cool. It’s the rainy season so the park was lusciously green. We were told that during the dry season (after May) there is no grass and most of the trees drop their leaves. That’s best time to look for large animals because they all congregate around the river or watering holes. Still, this time, we saw tons of zebra, giraffes, elephants (even a teeny tiny baby one), kudu, hippos, and lions. The bird watching was amazing too. So many different species- and all so colorful- it was hard to keep your attention on any one thing. Ruaha is the largest national park in Tanzania and has mountains as well as flatter grassland areas. The river is fast flowing and muddy- it actually flows into the Rufiji River, where we are going to be in two weeks. There’s been so much rain here the past couple weeks that the Ruaha River was overflowing its banks and parts of the road had already been washed out. These things aren’t expected until next month so it’s kind of catching everyone by surprise.
On our evening drive, we went up one road looking for lions and were standing up out of the pop-top roof when we came around a corner and not 10 feet from the side of the road was a female lion lying on the grass. The driver didn’t see her but because the road was a bit sunken down, the lion seemed to be almost eye level with me but all I could do was point and say ‘Ahhhh, stop!’. She didn’t even move once we sidled up next to her. Her golden eyes just watched us and any time someone made a move her eyes would get even larger and she would lift her head. Even though I had expected some of the animals to be habituated to cars and humans, I really didn’t expect this. Because of her lack of concern, we think that she might have been hurt (we did notice a small wound on her shoulder) or just plain exhausted from a hunt. We spent quite a while around her and as we were leaving, Nick saw two lion cubs peaking over a rock behind the mom so of course we slammed on the brakes and sat watching the cubs. They were young enough to still be curious of us and kept watching us as they played and posed on nearby rocks!
The park is also home to about 100 wild dogs who are further from the main safari-ing area… maybe we’ll be able to go back and see if we can find them. Nick’s on a mission. We stayed in green metal bandas right next to the river and were woken up at night by passing hippos. We met the misty morning early for a sunrise game drive. The colors were amazing and we came upon bunches of baby lions. There were no parents in sight. One set of cubs was playing on the rocks and a second group of five was lined up on a flat rock intently watching us. We got quite close to these five too and at first they were curious and then slowly, one by one, put their heads down and closed their eyes (see picture). There were zebras all over the place and most of the time they were around giraffes or eland antelope. Our guide told us that the giraffe was chosen as the Tanzanian mascot because ‘they are polite’. Even though they look odd with their long necks and plump eyelashes, they are so graceful. We frightened a couple hippos who quickly took off toward the river, their little legs carrying massive bodies and heads. We pulled beside a retired male lion next to the river who began to roar when we were out of sight. All in all, Ruaha is an amazing place and highly recommended—and we only saw a tiny eastern sliver of the park. Our Land Rover broke down on the way back. The fuel filter was leaking, and so we sat at an angle on a hill for a while waiting for a goop to harden to the filter so that diesel could make it to the engine. One of our safari guys, David, hitched a ride to the next town to arrange for a taxi, and just when he got there about an hour later, the car fired up and we proceeded to travel top-speed to make up time and acquire mobile service to call David. So it goes on these roads…
Even if you were out of Tanzania or didn’t have access to a radio, newspaper, or television this month, you would be tipped off to the fact that President Bush visited here by some special garments found in town. Some women are walking the streets clad head to toe in special -edition ugly beige plaid fabric with George’s big head and silly grin haloed prominently on their butts by Tanzanian and American flags and Kiswahili and English messages of welcome. I tried to buy a shirt made out of this fabric, but was DENIED by one of the hundreds of seamstresses in Iringa, who said that she’s saving it to make herself clothes. I will find some in Dar. Guaranteed. And I will ultimately spill something on it at a party back in the states. President Bush should have been a goodwill ambassador to Africa. He loves it here—the dancing, the photo-ops, the Kiswahili greetings (he said “Vipi mambo” to a crowd in Arusha, assuring five hundred articles about it in the next two weeks and refreshing his positive African legacy). He has given a lot of money to Africa – though many are still quick to ask where that money is directed and how it is spent – and most seem to like him, except for those recently detained for plotting to blow something up (e.g. him) during his visit. And you can always find a guy or two at a bar who loves him for being so quick to fight. I don’t know exactly what to say about U.S.- Africa relations. There’s a lot of potential for investments in better infrastructure and public capacity, lots of resources to sustainably develop to fund education and health initiatives. And, at least in relatively stable countries like Tanzania, we’re likely to see quite a bit more attention of countries other than China (who is everywhere, buying up everything). Then again, Kenya was, up until December, a relatively stable country, and though some things are finally being signed in Nairobi, investors are surely doubting the long-term security of their investments and hitting the road. Either way, defining our collective role in Africa is a tough thing to do.
More when we get back from the first month in Mtanza! Best wishes to everyone. Oh, and we have news that just isn’t bloggable…we’re sure it’ll find its way to you soon.
The girls at the Spring Valley School are in charge of things like cleaning the common dining area or hauling buckets of water from the rain barrel to their bathrooms. They walk across the grass, chattering away, with buckets full of water balanced on their heads. I want to learn to do that too! It's so practical- once you figure out balance and finally trust yourself. Once in a while we'll hear them when they're in their classrooms singing (especially after dinner) or cracking up about something. And recently they’ve taken to dressing in jumpsuits, singing, and running one grueling lap around the compound, the frontrunners lying on the ground every 20 yards to wait for the stragglers who like to speedwalk. It's fun to have them around- they're a constant source of entertainment. In the afternoons they have a break and visit Bibi Candy's duka. Candy doesn't have too much stuff in there - packets of cookies or juice - but sometimes she'll be making chips and eggs and in the mornings she fries up bunches of maandazi. Maandazi are like doughnut holes but larger and not sweet. Well, there is a little sweetness but mostly it's just a crispy outside covering a warm doughy center. I think about my mom every time I have them because I know how much she loves doughnuts, or just bread in general:) They are so good and the ones here are the best I've tasted so far. At 5 cents apiece it's easy to buy a bunch but hard to finish them all…and then feel sick. Munching on maandazi is a great way to break up the morning Swahili lessons- which are going really well. I've been in class for 18 days and I've learned a ton. I think that by the next Tuesday, when we’re off to Rufiji, I'll have a grasp on the language and it'll only get better in Mtanza. I'm glad that I've taken this course, even if just to get the basics before going somewhere I won't be able to speak English. Learning a language is interesting- you'll go through the day's lesson and understand what you're being taught and then you try to practice on your own and realize you don't have the vocabulary to complete a decent sentence. So far my sentences have been Swahili littered with English nouns (and half the time if you throw an 'e' on the end, it'll be the Swahili equivalent, especially if it’s a new technology of some sort). It's also fun to finally be able to catch part of a Kiswahili conversation and understand the gist of what they're talking about.
Hurume Baptist Center is about a mile from the town center and the road goes through houses and small shops. Daladalas race down the road throwing up dust (or mud as was the case for the first three weeks of the month, when it didn’t stop raining) and laying on the horn. Coming from town, they often cut the engine and coast, holding onto the overworked door to make sure it doesn’t fall into the gutter…or onto a child carrying a baby. There are two little calves that are always picketed on the side of the road- one white and brown, and the other the reddish brown. Nick has decided that he wants to adopt the reddish brown one because she's the prettiest cow he's ever seen. And I agree with him, she is a pretty cow, but I think we should start with a dog first! Once we get closer to town, the groups of kids start giggling and if one is brave enough they'll yell 'Wazungu', meaning 'white people' (or something of the sort – we’ve also heard it derives from something meaning “person who wanders overseeing plantation workers i.e. slaves) and then all the rest of them will chime in. They don't just say it once, either. It turns into a kind of song and can continue long after you've passed. I think it's funny, and kind of cute. If it gets annoying (with older children or, yes, adult men) Nick will sometimes ask, ‘Nini?’ (What?) or respond, 'Wafrica' (Africans). The older ones look confused, and the little ones usually get really quiet and then start cracking up. Or you just greet them in Kiswahili and they get confused that you know the language and hush up. Sometimes we'll get a 'Good aftanoon, SIR' (and it could really be morning or evening but it doesn't matter) or a 'Teacha!'. Many of the younger kids will greet us with 'Shikamoo' which is a respectful greeting reserved for your elders and is responded to with 'Marahaba'. I don't really know what the translation is- I don't think there is an English equivalent. I like saying 'Shikamoo' to the older people, especially the women, because their faces light up and it's as though you've unlocked a door. They are surprised that you know the word, much less use it—and it feels that because you have, you become respected, as well.
The market in Iringa is constantly bustling and there are tables and tables of fruits, vegetables, and dried fish. A while back we went to buy ingredients for guacamole. After talking to my dad about his upcoming week in Mexico, I had a sudden urge for Mexican food. Avocados are just now in season and they are huge- the size of a softball, maybe a bit larger. We were able to find ripe avocados, tomatoes, onion, and limes. Perfect! Just smushed it up and added a bit of salt and it went wonderfully with our dinner. My craving was curbed- although now a margarita is sounding pretty darn good, too...
Recently we went on a safari to Ruaha National Park! It was so cool. It’s the rainy season so the park was lusciously green. We were told that during the dry season (after May) there is no grass and most of the trees drop their leaves. That’s best time to look for large animals because they all congregate around the river or watering holes. Still, this time, we saw tons of zebra, giraffes, elephants (even a teeny tiny baby one), kudu, hippos, and lions. The bird watching was amazing too. So many different species- and all so colorful- it was hard to keep your attention on any one thing. Ruaha is the largest national park in Tanzania and has mountains as well as flatter grassland areas. The river is fast flowing and muddy- it actually flows into the Rufiji River, where we are going to be in two weeks. There’s been so much rain here the past couple weeks that the Ruaha River was overflowing its banks and parts of the road had already been washed out. These things aren’t expected until next month so it’s kind of catching everyone by surprise.
On our evening drive, we went up one road looking for lions and were standing up out of the pop-top roof when we came around a corner and not 10 feet from the side of the road was a female lion lying on the grass. The driver didn’t see her but because the road was a bit sunken down, the lion seemed to be almost eye level with me but all I could do was point and say ‘Ahhhh, stop!’. She didn’t even move once we sidled up next to her. Her golden eyes just watched us and any time someone made a move her eyes would get even larger and she would lift her head. Even though I had expected some of the animals to be habituated to cars and humans, I really didn’t expect this. Because of her lack of concern, we think that she might have been hurt (we did notice a small wound on her shoulder) or just plain exhausted from a hunt. We spent quite a while around her and as we were leaving, Nick saw two lion cubs peaking over a rock behind the mom so of course we slammed on the brakes and sat watching the cubs. They were young enough to still be curious of us and kept watching us as they played and posed on nearby rocks!
The park is also home to about 100 wild dogs who are further from the main safari-ing area… maybe we’ll be able to go back and see if we can find them. Nick’s on a mission. We stayed in green metal bandas right next to the river and were woken up at night by passing hippos. We met the misty morning early for a sunrise game drive. The colors were amazing and we came upon bunches of baby lions. There were no parents in sight. One set of cubs was playing on the rocks and a second group of five was lined up on a flat rock intently watching us. We got quite close to these five too and at first they were curious and then slowly, one by one, put their heads down and closed their eyes (see picture). There were zebras all over the place and most of the time they were around giraffes or eland antelope. Our guide told us that the giraffe was chosen as the Tanzanian mascot because ‘they are polite’. Even though they look odd with their long necks and plump eyelashes, they are so graceful. We frightened a couple hippos who quickly took off toward the river, their little legs carrying massive bodies and heads. We pulled beside a retired male lion next to the river who began to roar when we were out of sight. All in all, Ruaha is an amazing place and highly recommended—and we only saw a tiny eastern sliver of the park. Our Land Rover broke down on the way back. The fuel filter was leaking, and so we sat at an angle on a hill for a while waiting for a goop to harden to the filter so that diesel could make it to the engine. One of our safari guys, David, hitched a ride to the next town to arrange for a taxi, and just when he got there about an hour later, the car fired up and we proceeded to travel top-speed to make up time and acquire mobile service to call David. So it goes on these roads…
Even if you were out of Tanzania or didn’t have access to a radio, newspaper, or television this month, you would be tipped off to the fact that President Bush visited here by some special garments found in town. Some women are walking the streets clad head to toe in special -edition ugly beige plaid fabric with George’s big head and silly grin haloed prominently on their butts by Tanzanian and American flags and Kiswahili and English messages of welcome. I tried to buy a shirt made out of this fabric, but was DENIED by one of the hundreds of seamstresses in Iringa, who said that she’s saving it to make herself clothes. I will find some in Dar. Guaranteed. And I will ultimately spill something on it at a party back in the states. President Bush should have been a goodwill ambassador to Africa. He loves it here—the dancing, the photo-ops, the Kiswahili greetings (he said “Vipi mambo” to a crowd in Arusha, assuring five hundred articles about it in the next two weeks and refreshing his positive African legacy). He has given a lot of money to Africa – though many are still quick to ask where that money is directed and how it is spent – and most seem to like him, except for those recently detained for plotting to blow something up (e.g. him) during his visit. And you can always find a guy or two at a bar who loves him for being so quick to fight. I don’t know exactly what to say about U.S.- Africa relations. There’s a lot of potential for investments in better infrastructure and public capacity, lots of resources to sustainably develop to fund education and health initiatives. And, at least in relatively stable countries like Tanzania, we’re likely to see quite a bit more attention of countries other than China (who is everywhere, buying up everything). Then again, Kenya was, up until December, a relatively stable country, and though some things are finally being signed in Nairobi, investors are surely doubting the long-term security of their investments and hitting the road. Either way, defining our collective role in Africa is a tough thing to do.
More when we get back from the first month in Mtanza! Best wishes to everyone. Oh, and we have news that just isn’t bloggable…we’re sure it’ll find its way to you soon.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Iringa in February
For the first time in a month, I can truly say it's chilly out. It's been raining all day and the temperature has hovered around 70 degrees (I know that doesn't seem chilly when it's 30 back at home!). We are in Iringa which is about 1500 meters above sea level and the 7 hour bus ride from Dar first has you sweating and shrinking from the sun to trying to find a beam and putting on a long sleeve shirt. The cooler temperatures are a welcome relief.
Happily, we've only had to spend a few days in Dar the past couple weeks. The people at Safari Inn now know us well and the receptionist, who's face up until recently has never shown emotion, finally acknowledges us with a smile and 'Karibuni' (Welcome). My favorite person at Safari is the man who serves breakfast (Nick says Greg will remember him - same guy). He rattles off in Swahili to Nick asking how we slept, how our last trip was, and what we'd like for breakfast. I usually just sit there and smile while Nick responds- they talk too fast for me to understand! Then he looks to me and asks, 'Toaste, juicee, black tea?'. Yep, he even remembers what we order for breakfast. Then he laughs and hustles off to the kitchen.
One hot afternoon we randomly came across a casino in the basement of a business building. I'm no gambler but a couple beers help out- especially when they're free (even when they cost more than what we had on our electronic slots cards at the time). Guess that's how they get you. We learned how to play some kind of poker game from a couple Indian guys and while we did well for a bit, we didn't end up on top. I had a card with 10,000Tsh (about $8) for the slot machines so I went to play those after the poker game wiped out our other 10,000Tsh. I really have no idea how to play those things- there's just a bunch of buttons and lights flashing. So, I just pressed buttons and all of a sudden the lights go crazy and I end up winning 46,000Tsh!! That's when I called it quits and cashed out with a big grin on my face!
A couple streets down from Safari Inn is Kisutu Street where there are several Hindu temples and men on the sidewalks threading flowers on string for necklaces. It's a really quiet and refreshing street to walk down away the crowds everywhere else. We had read about a shop on this street that made paan. Paan is a bunch of ingredients like coconut, nuts, syrup or honey, fennel seeds, and other spices that are placed on a bettel leaf and rolled up. You put the whole thing in your mouth and chew it but only swallow the juices. After all the taste is gone then you spit out the pithy part. We got a couple that were filled with coconut, berry syrup, fennel, I think some kind of nut, and other spices I couldn't determine. It was so good! Hey Mekha, why haven't you represented and made us some paan!? The bettel leaf is described as a 'mild narcotic' but really it only makes your tongue tingle. It reminded me of the toothache plant that is found all over Central Texas. The settlers used to chew the plant's leaves to numb their mouths when they had toothaches or any kind of dental work done. I remember my sister and I used to pick off those leaves and chew them, enjoying the tingly mintiness that overcame our mouths and tongues. That feeling, paired with the great taste of the insides, made the paan a hit and I want to try another that has different ingredients next time.
Last week we blindly made our way to Utete, the district headquarters of the Rufiji district. I say blindly because of the 30 or so numbers we had to the district offices in Utete, none of them worked. Any place we called in Dar to get information or other numbers to Utete had nothing to offer us, either. And email was definitely out of the question. So, we just showed up. Since we couldn't get ahold of anyone, I was really expecting to find a tiny little town with a one room district office. In fact, Utete is quite large and there is a huge old German boma building that houses the district offices, WWF, and REMP/IUCN. We were able to root through the REMP library and borrow tons of technical reports, notes, papers, and maps about the Rufiji region - especially Mtanza-Msona village, our research site (maybe one of two, but we're not sure just yet). A district executive officer, Abnegdego (Nick says to Greg: he used to teach English at Lutheran in Morogoro), cleared our research and called another district official, Mr. Msuya, who had just driven the 4 hours to Dar on his motorbike, to come back to Utete and take us to Mtanza-Msona. And he came! And we felt bad. "Ah, it's my job!" I thought that if they had phone numbers that worked, then this sort of thing wouldn't happen:) Mr. Msuya, Nick, and I hopped a bus to Kibiti where we were to catch another bus that would pass through Mtanza on it's way from Dar to Mloka. We missed the Mloka bus by half and hour and had to sit in Kibiti for four hours until we found a car and driver to hire and take us out to Mtanza. Mr. Msuya, the happy and proud district official, was "outraged" by the "conundrum" in which we found ourselves, especially since the other bus, who he had called earlier, didn't wait the half hour for us (full of, no doubt, 80+ sweating and swearing passengers). It took about 4 hours to drive 40 miles on quite possibly the worst road I've ever been on. First of all we were in a Suzuki Jimmy that had no shocks whatsoever and had definitely seen better days. Nick and I were smushed in the backseat, hanging onto the 'oh shit' handles so we weren't thrown through windows. The road was full of potholes, mudholes, sandpits, villagers walking or riding their bikes - some 90km or more on the road - and huge piles of red dirt (see below about these piles). It was a long, dusty ride and when I finally got out of the backseat I had to do a full body scan to make sure the shaking and cramped legs were only temporary.
Mtanza-Msona is a farming/fishing village on the Rufiji River. Crops are grown on the river deposits to the south of the river. The village itself is on the north side of the river, so most families have houses in the village and temporary shamba (farm) stilt houses in their fields. During growing seasons or busy planting times, the family will move out to shamba in order to protect their crops from wildlife pests - wild pigs, baboons, elephants, and vervet monkeys. On the way to Utete I had watched a vervet monkey rip ears of corn off a stalk and shove the kernals in its mouth when the farmer's back was turned. The whole way to Mtanza, we saw baboons along the roadside. The village of Mtanza-Msona is near Mtanza Lake, where most of the village's fish come from. They normally don't fish in the Rufiji since there are crocodiles and hippos, and because the muddy water flows very quickly.
Mr. Msuya knows everyone in Rufiji. He is their district officer, but he really does know everyone, at least all the people with official positions in the villages. He introduced us to the Mtanza head village officer and organized absolutely everything (we are "important guests to be taken care of" - going through the official channels can pay off). We found accomodation in a little brick and tinroof two-room house. Mr. Msuya has made it his mission to ensure that this little building is in tip top shape for us when we move there in March. He's having a bed made, thatch mats placed in the ceiling, all the holes patched, and mosquito screen placed over the windows. We're in very competant and dedicated hands! We didn't stay the night in Mtanza, but in Mloka. Mloka is probably the biggest village in the area- it has generators for electricity- and is closest to the Selous Game Reserve. Mr. Msuya also knows all the safari lodge owners so we went to visit a couple of them. One was right outside the reserve and their deck overlooked the wide Rufiji River. It was an amazing sight, especially after spending so much time in Dar or other cities. This was my first look at wild Africa! There were tons of birds and unfortunately we didnt any of the resident hippos. The second lodge we went to was actually inside the park and somehow Msuya was able to get us in the reserve for only 5,000Tsh. The safari camp we were going to was only a couple km inside the boundary but we saw a huge herd of impala, a giraffe off in the distance, warthogs, baboons, hippos chilling in the river, and even an elephant!! I was so excited about the elephant. It was only one, a young male. He was eating on the roadside not even 25 yards from us. This elephant could have crushed our Suzuki and us in one shove and stomp. Our driver immediately backed up and then shut off the car while Mr. Msuya put his hands out the window and clapped to let the elephant know we were there. The elephant stopped eating and raised his trunk in our direction trying to smell us. He didn't seem too worried and after a couple minutes, turned and walked across the road so we were able to pass. I know this was a young male, meaning a small elephant, but he was huge. Great big floppy ears, thick tusks, and just so tall! I wished I could have sat there all day watching him.
We had a long trip back to Dar that day- tiny little car on a bumpy road, scary minibus racing to Dar, and then a daladala in the crowded city traffic. It may have been long but it was very successful. It was good to see the village and get a few things organized before setting up shop there. I'm looking forward to being there for four months.
Back in Dar we postponed our trip to Iringa by a day in order to go to a outdoor music festival. It started at noon and was to go until 6pm. We got there a bit after noon and were literally the only people there. The stage wasn't even set up! We were told noon is really more like 2pm in 'Africa time'. So we waited... and waited... and waited. It was 6 hours before we heard one strum of live music. By that time it was getting dark and the stage lights kept losing power so after a game of frisbee and a few too many mosquito bites, we threw in the towel! It really was a shame because it had been a nice sunny day, good beer and food, and the music would have been awesome. There were Tanzanian musicians lined up but also Oliver Mtukudzi from Zimbabwe. Nick has some of his music and was really looking forward to hearing him live. Maybe next time??
The next morning, we were on the bus to Iringa where part of the road goes through Mikumi National Park. Here is where I saw two giraffes right on the side of the road eating off a tree. They reminded me of a couple a deer. I was so surprised I almost jumped out of my seat. We saw tons of elephants, impala, pigs, and I think I saw some buffalo in the distance but they were too far to be sure. It's hard to grasp that they are wild, not caged up in a zoo. When the only interaction you've had with an animal is over a wall in a cage or the television, seeing them in their real habitat is amazing and a bit surreal. And just seeing them isn't enough. I wanted to be dropped right there on the side of the road so that I could watch them for days. I wanted to follow them and watch them interact. It made me think of Nick and his year with the gorillas, or his year with the capuchins, and just how amazing that experience must have been. I know he talks about how it can get exhausting and sometimes boring, as anything can, but it must have been at times a rush and in the long-run extremely fulfilling.
So it's Iringa for a month, now. We've settled into the Baptiste Centre where Nick stayed 7 years ago. Today was my first day in Swahili school- I'm the only student for two teachers! I'll be fluent in 4 weeks. Ha! Yesterday we went to Nick's homestay house to visit with the father and two daughters. The mother was in Dar but will be back in Iringa this month. The oldest daughter remembers Nick but the youngest doesn't since she had turned 1 while Nick was here in 2001. They have a nice house in the hills outside of town and I'm looking forward to visiting them more while we're here.
Iringa is great. It's smaller and feels friendlier. We wandered around the market and found mama lishes tucked away in a market building. These food spots are aways down tiny walkways winding around spices, beans, and grains for sale in big baskets. You arrive at a dark area packed with mamas racing around cooking food with their babies slung to their backs, smoke in the air, drunk guys sometmes asleep at their individual wooden benches, sunlight finding its way through the roof in slivers to light the vats of bubbling oil and potato. They are quick and agile with their cooking pots and easily speed through the skinny paths dishing out rice, beans, ugali, chicken, chips, and greens to hungry customers. There are many stalls full of handmade woven baskets and shops with stacks of batik fabric where tailors are out front on their Chinese (or Indian?) sewing machines making shirts, skirts, and blouses. They even have sewing machines where you hold a handle underneath to spin the intricate embroidery into the fabric. I had been wondering how some of the clothes have these amazing embroidery on them- it never crossed my mind that they did it right there. I watched a lady embroider the entire length of a shirt with a thick spiral design in less than two minutes!
For now I'm listening to Tanzanian bonga flava music (reminds me of Belize!), eating fresh bread with local honey that still has little pieces of beeswax in it, and watching the rain come down. Something tells me this month in Iringa is going to be great...
Happily, we've only had to spend a few days in Dar the past couple weeks. The people at Safari Inn now know us well and the receptionist, who's face up until recently has never shown emotion, finally acknowledges us with a smile and 'Karibuni' (Welcome). My favorite person at Safari is the man who serves breakfast (Nick says Greg will remember him - same guy). He rattles off in Swahili to Nick asking how we slept, how our last trip was, and what we'd like for breakfast. I usually just sit there and smile while Nick responds- they talk too fast for me to understand! Then he looks to me and asks, 'Toaste, juicee, black tea?'. Yep, he even remembers what we order for breakfast. Then he laughs and hustles off to the kitchen.
One hot afternoon we randomly came across a casino in the basement of a business building. I'm no gambler but a couple beers help out- especially when they're free (even when they cost more than what we had on our electronic slots cards at the time). Guess that's how they get you. We learned how to play some kind of poker game from a couple Indian guys and while we did well for a bit, we didn't end up on top. I had a card with 10,000Tsh (about $8) for the slot machines so I went to play those after the poker game wiped out our other 10,000Tsh. I really have no idea how to play those things- there's just a bunch of buttons and lights flashing. So, I just pressed buttons and all of a sudden the lights go crazy and I end up winning 46,000Tsh!! That's when I called it quits and cashed out with a big grin on my face!
A couple streets down from Safari Inn is Kisutu Street where there are several Hindu temples and men on the sidewalks threading flowers on string for necklaces. It's a really quiet and refreshing street to walk down away the crowds everywhere else. We had read about a shop on this street that made paan. Paan is a bunch of ingredients like coconut, nuts, syrup or honey, fennel seeds, and other spices that are placed on a bettel leaf and rolled up. You put the whole thing in your mouth and chew it but only swallow the juices. After all the taste is gone then you spit out the pithy part. We got a couple that were filled with coconut, berry syrup, fennel, I think some kind of nut, and other spices I couldn't determine. It was so good! Hey Mekha, why haven't you represented and made us some paan!? The bettel leaf is described as a 'mild narcotic' but really it only makes your tongue tingle. It reminded me of the toothache plant that is found all over Central Texas. The settlers used to chew the plant's leaves to numb their mouths when they had toothaches or any kind of dental work done. I remember my sister and I used to pick off those leaves and chew them, enjoying the tingly mintiness that overcame our mouths and tongues. That feeling, paired with the great taste of the insides, made the paan a hit and I want to try another that has different ingredients next time.
Last week we blindly made our way to Utete, the district headquarters of the Rufiji district. I say blindly because of the 30 or so numbers we had to the district offices in Utete, none of them worked. Any place we called in Dar to get information or other numbers to Utete had nothing to offer us, either. And email was definitely out of the question. So, we just showed up. Since we couldn't get ahold of anyone, I was really expecting to find a tiny little town with a one room district office. In fact, Utete is quite large and there is a huge old German boma building that houses the district offices, WWF, and REMP/IUCN. We were able to root through the REMP library and borrow tons of technical reports, notes, papers, and maps about the Rufiji region - especially Mtanza-Msona village, our research site (maybe one of two, but we're not sure just yet). A district executive officer, Abnegdego (Nick says to Greg: he used to teach English at Lutheran in Morogoro), cleared our research and called another district official, Mr. Msuya, who had just driven the 4 hours to Dar on his motorbike, to come back to Utete and take us to Mtanza-Msona. And he came! And we felt bad. "Ah, it's my job!" I thought that if they had phone numbers that worked, then this sort of thing wouldn't happen:) Mr. Msuya, Nick, and I hopped a bus to Kibiti where we were to catch another bus that would pass through Mtanza on it's way from Dar to Mloka. We missed the Mloka bus by half and hour and had to sit in Kibiti for four hours until we found a car and driver to hire and take us out to Mtanza. Mr. Msuya, the happy and proud district official, was "outraged" by the "conundrum" in which we found ourselves, especially since the other bus, who he had called earlier, didn't wait the half hour for us (full of, no doubt, 80+ sweating and swearing passengers). It took about 4 hours to drive 40 miles on quite possibly the worst road I've ever been on. First of all we were in a Suzuki Jimmy that had no shocks whatsoever and had definitely seen better days. Nick and I were smushed in the backseat, hanging onto the 'oh shit' handles so we weren't thrown through windows. The road was full of potholes, mudholes, sandpits, villagers walking or riding their bikes - some 90km or more on the road - and huge piles of red dirt (see below about these piles). It was a long, dusty ride and when I finally got out of the backseat I had to do a full body scan to make sure the shaking and cramped legs were only temporary.
Mtanza-Msona is a farming/fishing village on the Rufiji River. Crops are grown on the river deposits to the south of the river. The village itself is on the north side of the river, so most families have houses in the village and temporary shamba (farm) stilt houses in their fields. During growing seasons or busy planting times, the family will move out to shamba in order to protect their crops from wildlife pests - wild pigs, baboons, elephants, and vervet monkeys. On the way to Utete I had watched a vervet monkey rip ears of corn off a stalk and shove the kernals in its mouth when the farmer's back was turned. The whole way to Mtanza, we saw baboons along the roadside. The village of Mtanza-Msona is near Mtanza Lake, where most of the village's fish come from. They normally don't fish in the Rufiji since there are crocodiles and hippos, and because the muddy water flows very quickly.
Mr. Msuya knows everyone in Rufiji. He is their district officer, but he really does know everyone, at least all the people with official positions in the villages. He introduced us to the Mtanza head village officer and organized absolutely everything (we are "important guests to be taken care of" - going through the official channels can pay off). We found accomodation in a little brick and tinroof two-room house. Mr. Msuya has made it his mission to ensure that this little building is in tip top shape for us when we move there in March. He's having a bed made, thatch mats placed in the ceiling, all the holes patched, and mosquito screen placed over the windows. We're in very competant and dedicated hands! We didn't stay the night in Mtanza, but in Mloka. Mloka is probably the biggest village in the area- it has generators for electricity- and is closest to the Selous Game Reserve. Mr. Msuya also knows all the safari lodge owners so we went to visit a couple of them. One was right outside the reserve and their deck overlooked the wide Rufiji River. It was an amazing sight, especially after spending so much time in Dar or other cities. This was my first look at wild Africa! There were tons of birds and unfortunately we didnt any of the resident hippos. The second lodge we went to was actually inside the park and somehow Msuya was able to get us in the reserve for only 5,000Tsh. The safari camp we were going to was only a couple km inside the boundary but we saw a huge herd of impala, a giraffe off in the distance, warthogs, baboons, hippos chilling in the river, and even an elephant!! I was so excited about the elephant. It was only one, a young male. He was eating on the roadside not even 25 yards from us. This elephant could have crushed our Suzuki and us in one shove and stomp. Our driver immediately backed up and then shut off the car while Mr. Msuya put his hands out the window and clapped to let the elephant know we were there. The elephant stopped eating and raised his trunk in our direction trying to smell us. He didn't seem too worried and after a couple minutes, turned and walked across the road so we were able to pass. I know this was a young male, meaning a small elephant, but he was huge. Great big floppy ears, thick tusks, and just so tall! I wished I could have sat there all day watching him.
We had a long trip back to Dar that day- tiny little car on a bumpy road, scary minibus racing to Dar, and then a daladala in the crowded city traffic. It may have been long but it was very successful. It was good to see the village and get a few things organized before setting up shop there. I'm looking forward to being there for four months.
Back in Dar we postponed our trip to Iringa by a day in order to go to a outdoor music festival. It started at noon and was to go until 6pm. We got there a bit after noon and were literally the only people there. The stage wasn't even set up! We were told noon is really more like 2pm in 'Africa time'. So we waited... and waited... and waited. It was 6 hours before we heard one strum of live music. By that time it was getting dark and the stage lights kept losing power so after a game of frisbee and a few too many mosquito bites, we threw in the towel! It really was a shame because it had been a nice sunny day, good beer and food, and the music would have been awesome. There were Tanzanian musicians lined up but also Oliver Mtukudzi from Zimbabwe. Nick has some of his music and was really looking forward to hearing him live. Maybe next time??
The next morning, we were on the bus to Iringa where part of the road goes through Mikumi National Park. Here is where I saw two giraffes right on the side of the road eating off a tree. They reminded me of a couple a deer. I was so surprised I almost jumped out of my seat. We saw tons of elephants, impala, pigs, and I think I saw some buffalo in the distance but they were too far to be sure. It's hard to grasp that they are wild, not caged up in a zoo. When the only interaction you've had with an animal is over a wall in a cage or the television, seeing them in their real habitat is amazing and a bit surreal. And just seeing them isn't enough. I wanted to be dropped right there on the side of the road so that I could watch them for days. I wanted to follow them and watch them interact. It made me think of Nick and his year with the gorillas, or his year with the capuchins, and just how amazing that experience must have been. I know he talks about how it can get exhausting and sometimes boring, as anything can, but it must have been at times a rush and in the long-run extremely fulfilling.
So it's Iringa for a month, now. We've settled into the Baptiste Centre where Nick stayed 7 years ago. Today was my first day in Swahili school- I'm the only student for two teachers! I'll be fluent in 4 weeks. Ha! Yesterday we went to Nick's homestay house to visit with the father and two daughters. The mother was in Dar but will be back in Iringa this month. The oldest daughter remembers Nick but the youngest doesn't since she had turned 1 while Nick was here in 2001. They have a nice house in the hills outside of town and I'm looking forward to visiting them more while we're here.
Iringa is great. It's smaller and feels friendlier. We wandered around the market and found mama lishes tucked away in a market building. These food spots are aways down tiny walkways winding around spices, beans, and grains for sale in big baskets. You arrive at a dark area packed with mamas racing around cooking food with their babies slung to their backs, smoke in the air, drunk guys sometmes asleep at their individual wooden benches, sunlight finding its way through the roof in slivers to light the vats of bubbling oil and potato. They are quick and agile with their cooking pots and easily speed through the skinny paths dishing out rice, beans, ugali, chicken, chips, and greens to hungry customers. There are many stalls full of handmade woven baskets and shops with stacks of batik fabric where tailors are out front on their Chinese (or Indian?) sewing machines making shirts, skirts, and blouses. They even have sewing machines where you hold a handle underneath to spin the intricate embroidery into the fabric. I had been wondering how some of the clothes have these amazing embroidery on them- it never crossed my mind that they did it right there. I watched a lady embroider the entire length of a shirt with a thick spiral design in less than two minutes!
For now I'm listening to Tanzanian bonga flava music (reminds me of Belize!), eating fresh bread with local honey that still has little pieces of beeswax in it, and watching the rain come down. Something tells me this month in Iringa is going to be great...
Pictures
Lipstick fruit
Seaweed grown for use in cosmetics
Vanilla pods on the vine
Our bungalow in Zanzibar
Posing chicken
Dar es Salaam
Dar es Salaam
Dhow boat
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