this is africa

t.i.a. has fast become our saying for the trip. we use t.i.a. when we find ourselves in any of a number of situations you’d never imagine happening back home. here is the story of our friday to give you an idea of what im talking about. breakfast with the gang as usual (white bread, fried egg and tea is getting old real quick but we’re thankful we have someone providing us with breakfast each morning so we can’t complain), then a quick trip to the super market to get some treats for the dental students. they’ve been stranded in the hills for a week now (by the way they talk you’d think it’s been at least a month), and what are the girls texting us asking for? chocolate, pringles, and wine… obviously. we headed out on a dala dala with huge letters on the front labeling it “BAD BOY”. we were lucky to each get a seat, or at least part of one, usually people are packed in and standing over you, sitting on you, and hanging out the door. the dala dala is similar in size and appearance to a VW van but has rows of tiny seats packed into a place far too small for the number of people they cram inside. at the next stop a man and woman climbed in with their child. as they moved to the back where we were sitting, the dala dala started up and they each lunged for a seat, placing their child directly in amy’s lap as they sat down. it was so matter of fact, like the dad had this plan to set his son on the lap of a mzungu even before setting foot on the dala dala. we laughed and went with it, playing with the kid until he fell asleep to the bums and swerves of the vehicle. bob marley was blasting, pretty typical, in my dala dala experiences the music is always good. here’s how the dala dala works: there’s a driver and then there’s a guy who rides around in the back with all of the passengers. his job is to hang out the door or window looking for more people to cram inside the already packed bus. he jumps out and loads people on (with their produce, chickens, kids or goats) and then barely leaping into the open door as the dala dala speeds off. he is also responsible for collecting the fare, which he accomplishes by jingling a fist full of shilling coins in the face of each passenger until they fork over what they owe for the cramped ride. the dala dala is probably my second favorite mode of transportation in tanzania. I sing to the music while taking in the view, praying we don’t crash, and offering gum to all of my neighbors… what more could you ask for?

a 20 minute or so ride and we were at a transition point where we climbed out and proceeded to hop on the back of one of the variety of motorcycles parked and ready to take people up to the village in the jungle at the base of mount meru. I scoped out the bikes, picked one that I liked, pointed at the guy as I made my best serious eye contact and said “pole pole rafiki” (pronounced polay polay which means slowly). he offered me his helmet, which I took, unsure of how this ride would go. i hopped on the back and yes, was back in my bliss of riding bikes, no surprise there. I miss motorcycles in my life!! this is hands down the best way to see the countryside, and no question my favorite mode of transportation here, or really anywhere for that matter. I was catching bugs in my teeth I was smiling so big as we cruised up the winding road. It soon became apparent that I did not need to be worried about my guy being a crazy driver, the bikes are little with tiny engines that limit our speed. though faster would have been more fun, it was the perfect speed for waving at locals, giving the ever-popular thumbs up, and taking out my camera to video the experience (remind you of the habo habos in cebu, lo?)

once we regrouped at the hospital (amy was overwhelmed with the motorcycles and opted to take a dala dala up and deep – did I mention we call deepaul deep? I think so - joined her), we went for a mini tour of the place, saw the dental girls hard at work pulling teeth in a tiny room by headlamp light since the electricity had gone out. we walked up to the house where they are staying for the two weeks they spend at this hospital and I’m very certain, as are they, that the place is haunted. they sleep on old metal framed hospital beds with rolling wheels and the rooms are dark and drafty. of course we decided to explore the attic, big mistake. you walk up this steep narrow staircase and at the top, in this huge empty dark room lit only at one end by a small window, there is a wooden baby crib and tiny bed frame. yeah, I was back downstairs faster than you could say horror film :)

the area was beautiful, set back on this hillside surrounded by jungle. we hiked up until we found the cliché of all african villages, a futbol field on a crooked hill with a pile of rocks marking the two goal posts and a hodgepodge of children chasing after a miniature sized and semi-flat yellow soccer ball. we had no choice but to join in and all I can say is, the kids have got skillzzz!! we had a blast. every once in a while the ball would get kicked off the “field”, didn’t matter, they’d chase it down and keep playing (pretty much the only out of bounds was the clean laundry drying in one of the front yards). the cow feeding nearby ran interference on occasion and I think might have gotten more touches on the ball than me, but who’s counting ;) I was more about the congratulations high fives and the celebratory victory dance post goal (which the kids thought was really entertaining). aside from navigating the rugged terrain, you just had to be careful to enjoy the cow pies randomly distributed throughout the field. Good thing the kids we’re playing in…. oh wait, they were all playing in flip flops and a good number had kicked those off in the interest of speed. nothing says village soccer like cow poop between your toes. we played until we were flushed in the face and sweaty, then reluctantly said our goodbyes to our new friends (all probably about waist high and with footwork that would impress the pros). we headed for home shortly after, which entailed, not a motorbike ride down the mountain (too bad), but a coast in the oldest sedan still in running condition today. this thing had three rows of seats craftily fit into the tiny car and we had 12 people piled into a car meant to fit five, hakuna matata. we did not drive down the main road, no, we coasted down in neutral. I feared for my life probably only twice during the ride, and both times involved massive trucks coming the other direction. these are the moments we look at each other, say t.i.a., and laugh! creative family to come up with this fuel saving plan, and they’ve got the coasting to a science.

my favorite thing about arusha? the people. I’m sure you’ve picked up that we end up having random conversations pretty much on a daily basis. everyone is so friendly and it makes me want to change the way I treat strangers back in the states. Im usually all about striking up a conversation with anyone, but they take it to a whole different level here. example 1) old woman walks past us at the hospital today, she puts her arm around me, looks me straight in the eye (well, sort of, her left eye faced laterally, so she was technically only making eye contact with the right) and says something in swahili, I just return her toothless smile with a real big smile of my own and wait for andrew to translate (he’s been handy to have around as his swahili is really good from two years living in tanzania). “she says she loves you” and as he tell us this she is shaking all of our hands saying more things in swahili. I think I might love her too. example 2) we get our water in the hostel from a water cooler downstairs. the staff boil the water for us and we just fill our water bottles (and wait for it to cool… oh, and hope they’ve boiled it properly, which so far they haven’t let us down). anyway, sent amy and andrew down there to get some water today while thu and I napped (late night last night and early morning meant we got about 3 hours of sleep and we were desperately in need of nap time today). they came back up and along with our water delivered this message “vene says to tell you that god loves you” (vene is one of the women who works here). alright then! example 3) on our return trip from the hillside hospital today we were between coasting sedan and dala dala and this guy comes up to chat us on the road (typical) and he’s wearing one flip flop and one old black leather shoe without the laces and when andrew asks him about it he says he’s getting the other polished (this was most definitely his standard response to a question im sure he gets multiple times a day). anyway so he’s speaking to andrew in swahili and he’s pointing at me and andrew tells me he’s saying he loves me. so much love in this city. I hold up my left hand where I have a cheap, old ring strategically placed on my ring finger (word to all you single ladies out there, fake wedding ring in africa will save you! seriously, show the ring and you don’t have to say anything, the guys will leave you alone. amy thu and I have all found this very useful on countless occasions, particularly with, of all people, the creepy docs at the hospital who seem to really have a thing for thu - then again all the tanzanians seem to love thu the most)… this guy says something sounding a little disappointed, then lights up as he asks a question to andrew. I inquire as to what he said, andrew tells me “he wants to know if you have a younger sister”. t.i.a. and that’s how the tanzanian men work around here folks!

peaceful night with a few of the canadians who came back down to our beloved hostel for the weekend. live music at an open air restaurant, the guy was good too, really good, and he played for hours just a guitar and his incredible voice. I’m all about the stars here because there are lots, so I spent a good amount of time laying on the plush couch starring up at the southern cross (which I’ve seen for the first time in my life here, amazing!), and watching the stars move across the sky. the trees looked alive as the wind tousled the highest branches and huge bats swooped between the stars in search of dinner. it felt almost like home. it was a cool night and the sky looked a little unfamiliar without the big dipper, but the music was comforting and it felt like something I’d do during an oregon summer back home.