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Nipendo Tanzania! (I Love Tanzania!)

Tuesday, February 08, 2005
Nipendo Tanzania! (I Love Tanzania!)

Nipendo Tanzania! (I Love Tanzania!)-Monday So, toady we finally had orientation. After a morning of rules, customs, etc., we got a group assignment to go out into the community, and then an individual assignment. Our group assignment was to go to the home of Chief Shio, the chief of the village. We went to his home and his daughter brought out chairs for all of us. When he came out from his home, he sat in front of us and asked us our names and where we are from. He was in his late 60’s or so, and had missing teeth, a threadbare pair of brown pants and an old shirt. He is, like many people, bare footed. His home looks like any other here, and he explained to us that even though a chief is elected for five years, (and he is on his second term), they get no salary or benefits at all. Of course, by benefits, he means a cow or chicken, not health insurance and an IRA. Despite living in what we would consider extreme poverty, he is gracious and dignified. After extensive greetings all around, he took us into his yard to show us his animals. As we went back, he said, “I have been cutting up a goat”, and I was sure that this was not going to be good! However, there was no sign of goat, whole or otherwise, anywhere, so I felt much better! First, he took us to the pigpen to show us his eight or nine young pigs. This seemed unusual to me, because this country has a fair amount of Muslim people, so pig is not something you see much of! After the pigs, he showed us his goat shed, and his garden. I wish that I could give you an idea of what a typical home looks like here. I have not been inside of one yet, but Jessica, a young girl that works here, has invited me to her home, so I will report on that soon. However, the outside is very much like something you would see on a “Save The Children” commercial. A ramshackle collection of small sheds, some with roofs, some without, made of every feasible kind of material that you can imagine. Animal pens are connected one to another, I am assuming so as to save from having to build four walls. There are piles of rinds and peels from vegetables and fruits, and any water you might see appears very dirty. There is often a small fire for cooking, and some sort of latrine. Of course, there is rarely running water and very few people have any kind of electricity. You can imagine that it is exactly like the “Save The Children” ads. However, there is something that we cannot see on the television. The picture is very true to life, but what is not evident is the grace and dignity with which these people live. These places are home to families that work and love and laugh. They care for themselves, their children and their animals as well as possible, and there is a great, great deal of happiness. The children walk through pens in ankle deep manure and after only being here a few days, all I can see are their smiles and happiness. It is really amazing. This report is getting rather long. So I will continue it in another email. Our schedule is getting busier, so I am borrowing a laptop and writing several reports at once. I will be able to send them all every few days when I go into town. Until then, take care!!! Tonga! (Monday Part 2) After we left Chief Shio’s home, we each had our own assignment to do. I was handed a card that read: “Community Drop Off Activity: Go out of CCS gate, turn left and go straight to the main Uru Road. At the main road, turn left and go straight until you come to a small trading center called Rau Madukani. Ask for a place where a welding workshop is. Greet the welders, introduce yourself and ask them where they get their welding materials from.” Two other girls had assignments at the Madukani, so we headed off together. The trading center is a small conglomeration of storefronts, carts, ladies sitting on blankets and men carrying boards with sale items nailed to them. Understand, this market is for locals, not tourists, so most of the items were practical, everyday things. We came upon a long line of women on sheets selling fruits and vegetables, and immediately we were approached by two elders with their hands outstretched. Toothless grins stretched wide as they greeted us, introduced themselves, asked our names, and then asked for money. I smiled and asked where the welders were, and within seconds, we had a throng of local women around us talking a mile a minute! They all leaned in to read the card with my assignment written on it, and argued among themselves in Swahili. Finally, a woman in her twenties reached through the crowd, grabbed my hand and dragged me down the street to the welding workshop. I walked up to all of the men welding, (and lounging) and introduced myself. After greetings, (and realizing that not one of them spoke a word of English), I promptly began working my way through several lines of questioning. Surely one of them would work! Ten minutes later, they are smiling broadly, but still have no idea what I am asking for. I give it one final try. ”Amerika”, I say pointing to myself. They all nod knowingly. “Tanzanian”, I say, pointing to the man nearest me, again with nods of comprehension. Then I pointed to the metal gate that they were welding and held up my hands in question. Blank looks all around. Julie and Nicola had been hanging back, and finally Julie said, “Anna, come on….they are just laughing at us!”. I told her, “No, actually, they are laughing at ME, and I do not mind in the least!”. I was in the process of telling them that I would not be leaving until I knew where the materials came from when a man walked up that spoke English. Damn! I am certain that with enough time, we could have broken down that language barrier! I relented and asked the man. “Tonga!”, he said with a smile, and we headed back to the house. On the way back to the house, a Masai tribesman approached us and stopped to greet us. Over six feet tall, he was wrapped in the traditional red and blue plaid of the Masai. He was probably in his twenties and had tribal tattoos and silver-dollar-sized holes in his ear lobes. I don’t think that calling him a true Masai warrior would be very far off the mark! He shook our hands and welcomed us to Tanzania. He had the whitest teeth and the most beautiful smile, and I had to constantly remind myself that he was real. It was the highlight of my day. The rest of the day was filled with more orientation and Swahili lessons. They have brought in a Kiswahili teacher to tutor us for an hour a day so that we can be as fluent as possible. As I went to bed, words like “Hujambo, Asante, and Gina loca ni nami” cluttered up my brain. It has been a great day, but I am tired and I want to get down to the reason I am here…….the children! Tomorrow, I finally go to the orphanage. Kwaheri!

Anna aka Mud Butt

Mzungu!

Monday, February 07, 2005

Habari!
Well, since we are still doing orientation, I have some free time, so I decided to use it wisely and send home another report! I am keeping a really detailed journal and between emails and that, I am already getting confused, so if I repeat something, I am sorry!!
So yesterday, Dana, one of the women here, gave me a crash course on the clothing Tanzanian women wear. We can get clothing made very cheaply, so I am trying to figure out what I want to have made. There is a type of sarong-wrap called a Conga that women wear wrapped around their waists as skirts. It is made of beautiful African prints and the thing that sets it apart from other garments is the proverb that is written around the bottom. The one that Dana had on says in Swahili, “I am proud of the woman I have become”. However, it is used as more than a skirt…..it is used as a non-verbal communication, mostly with a womans husband. When a Tanzanian woman gets up in the morning, rather than pick out which color she wants to wear, she picks out the proverb that suits her mood! It is a way to let her husband know how she feels without saying anything! There is even one that says something to the effect of, “I know what you are up to”, and when a woman knows that her husband has a ‘small house’, (slang for having a mistress), she wears it. She will say nothing to him, but will parade around all day for all of the world to see. Isn’t that neat!?
As far as a lot of cultural things go, I am certainly no expert yet, but I am learning very quickly! For instance, if a young man can provide a roof and food, a girl will marry him. That is pretty much all it takes. I explained to my Tanzanian friend that in America, the only real reason to get married is for love. He says that that has nothing to do with it here. But, divorce is almost unheard of. If a couple gets divorced, it reflects very badly on the parents of the couple. It brings a lot of dishonor to the family so relatives will intervene strongly if there appears to be a problem.
As for us…..we are all Mzungu. Technically, that means European, but it is a word that they use for all white people. When I walked through the market in Arusha, everyone shouted “Mzungu…Mama Mzungu!”. It is not a slur or insult, just a description. However, in this culture Mzungu means money….always. So it is not unusual for children to walk up to you and say with a smile, “Mzungu, give me money”. I even had some grown men do it! Don’t get me wrong….this is not begging. It is not homeless or street people. It is just something everyone does!
Needless to say, I learning alot!!! Not only about the way things are here, but also about the ingrained cultural bias I have brought from America. It is really eye opening!
This morning, seven of us walked into town to do email, and swarms of children followed us the whole way grinning and saying, “Hello…good morning…how are you”. They are excited to practice their conversational english and delighted when we answer in Swahili. Of course, nothing comes easily!! Yesterday a group of women greeted me with “Jambo” to which I replied, “Loa”. As they giggled uncontrollably, I remembered that I am actually supposed to say, “Poa”! There is no telling what I said to them!!
As the jet lag and culture shock is wearing off, it is slowly sinking in that I am really here. Yesterday as I walked through the village alone, I was overcome with one thought……”When did I become this woman?!?!?” Seriously, when did I become a person that believed that she could travel around the world to a completely different place and feel right at home? On the one hand, I was very proud. But on the other hand, I wondered if I was, in some way, a ……well, …..bit too big for my britches. Does that make sense? Maybe I am not made for things such as this, and someone just forgot to tell me! Well, I am here now, whether or not I belong here, and I am taking in 150% of what is around me. And as far as how I became this woman…..I am pretty sure that my mom had a lot to do with it!
Kwaheri for now…………..

Anna aka Mud Butt

Africa!!

Sunday, February 06, 2005
AFRICA!!! Georgia Peach meets National Geographic

You won’t believe this, but Anna/Muddbutt is in AFRICA, a continuation of her life of adventure. Everyone wonders about Life After Trail. We’ll be transcribing Anna’s posts from The Dark Continent as she sends them.
J. LiteShoeAnd now, from Africa….

Muddbutt:

” have to tell you, this is very much like a thru hike, and all of the same rules apply. The dirt, trash, poverty, ….none of it matters when a bunch of friends are sitting around laughing!

I just walked 2.5 km down a dirt road into town. Along the way I dodged goats and chickens, I greeted young women with huge bundles on their heads, I said “Shikamoo” to elderly women and listened as they laughed and laughed at my Swahili, and I high-fived children with giant grins and missing teeth. I ducked under banana trees, passed coffee plants, inhaled the smoke from cooking fires and roasting maize, and choked on the dust from passing vans loaded with people.

I am in Africa.

I don’t know where to begin, and I am not sure I could begin to describe this to you, but I am going to try! After a long flight to Amsterdam, and an even longer one to Kilimanjaro, I found myself finally here. On my last flight, I sat with two guys my age from Sweden who were going to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro. The last several hours of the flight we were over the continant of Africa, and we kept joking that there was not a light to be seen anywhere. As we got nearer the airport, it was still pitch black and we did not even see the runway until we landed on it. We climbed stairs out of the plane onto the tarmac and walked into the single building that Kilimanjaro calls an airport. Three customs booths, one luggage carousel………….we are definitely not in Atlanta anymore!
My driver, John, picked me up and drove me the hour to the Moivaro Coffee Plantation. This is the hotel I am staying at til my program starts. Everything is very, very dark, and everything smells exotic. It is warm and breezy and I can not believe that I am actually here!
When I finally woke up from my jet/lag/tylenol PM induced haze the next morning, I was sure that there had been some kind of mistake. There are exotic flowers and banana trees as far as I can see. I have never been to the Bahamas, but this is exactly what I think they must look like.
As I sat on the veranda eating breakfast, I was surrounded by huge groups of tourists going on safari. They all looked like everything stuck on them the last time they walked through Banana Republic, and I have never seen so much khaki in my life. They were all wealthy, loud and demanding. This is definitely NOT what I had in mind!
I escaped to hike up the mountain, and after lunch, I called John and asked him to be my guide into town. I waited for over an hour for him to come, and in the meantime Estianna, the woman that worked at the front desk asked me if she could ride with us. We sat on the front steps and talked and talked. She has a 2 1/2 year old daughter and she says all that she ever hears is ‘mama, mama’. I grinned as I thought about my friends Nicole, and Lisa. There are some things that geography does not change! She also talked about being so tired, and not knowing whether she should take care of the baby, or the husband, or the parents, or the house…….I told her that it was the same for women in America and she brightened. ‘Really’, she said, ‘I thought it was only in Africa’.
I asked her if she ever took care of herself. She shook her head and said ‘No, there is no time for that’. The conversation that I had with her is one of the most special things that have happened to me so far.
When John arrived, we drove the long bumpy, dusty road into Arusha. Arusha is a fair sized city, and it has big government buildings and a great deal of commerce. If my conversation with Estianna was the most special thing, Arusha was the wildest thing! John took me to the market and walked me through. This is where the dime-store novel sentiment ‘the smells of rotten fruit and a thousand unwashed bodies’ was born. The stalls of fruit, vegatables, rice and beans were piled high and mashed together so that only one person at a time can walk by them… BUT, in Africa, there is no such thing as personal space, and we were packed in!
Now I know what it is like to be part rock star and part circus freak! Arusha is a big tourist town, but John says that tourists only stay at the hotels…they never walk around town or through the market. I think a white woman is a pretty rare sight! Everyone stared and smiled and yelled to get my attention. Children reached up to touch me and crys of ‘mama, mama’ filled the air! That was what they were all calling me! At one point, it got a little overwhelming, and I felt a little panic rise up. But as soon as I noticed it, it was gone in a flash. This is what I wanted….to see the world, to experience other cultures. It was overwhelmingly cool!!!! As we made our way back to the car, vendors surrounded me trying to sell their wares, and women smiled at me. I could tell that I was the butt of many jokes as I walked by, but none of it was mean-spirited. People were delighted at my horrible attempts at Swahili and strangers greeted me and shook my hand. This is the warmest country I have ever been to!
All of that was yesterday, and today, I left the lodge to go begin my program. The driver from Cross Cultural Solutions, (CCS), came to get me at the airport and took me to Rau, the village where I will be staying. Rau is outside of Moshi, a small town about an hour from the airport. Today is market day and as we drove, the streets are lined with people carrying their wares to market. There are Masai tribesman driving herds of cattle down the road, young boys hauling big wooden carts of maize, and women with giant bundles of green bananas on their heads. As we neared the compound where I am staying, the streets got very small, and wove between homesteads. Children are running up and down the street, high-fiving my hand as we drive by. I already love it here!!!
The compound is beautiful and as I met the staff, they showed me around. It is quiet and peaceful until three of the other volunteers arrive. Three young college guys, one of them has already been here for three months, and the other two are here for eleven weeks. Along with Dana, a woman who is staying at the compound doing a research project on Aids, we all sat down to lunch. Later today we will start our orientation, but for now, I have a couple of hours free.
After making sure that it was safe to walk into town, I decided to take off on my own and explore. Everyone that passes me stops to talk and they are so friendly! Here in the village, the only white people are CCS volunteers, so the locals are quick to approach us and talk. Soon after I left the village, I was joined by Gabriel, a young man that works as a Safari guide while saving money for college. After greeting me politely, he asked if he could walk and talk with me a while. I said sure and off we went. He told me about his family and how he used to teach English at the local school. He is obviously well known because everyone calls out and greets him. When I tell him that he is very popular, he just grins and puffs up. He lives next to the CCS compound and he says that everytime he sees me, he is going to come over and teach me some Swahili words. Sounds like a good deal to me!
Well, I am sorry that this has been so long, and I have left out a million details!!!! There is so much I want to tell you, but I will save some of it for later. I do not know if I will be able to come into town everyday or not, but I will try to keep you updated as I can. This is all well and good, and I am loving every second of it….but I am chomping at the bit to get to the orphanage. When I finally get there, I will tell you all about it! Take care!!”

Anna aka Mud Butt

Carvers Gap and Who Lost Shemeah?

Carvers Gap and Who Lost Shemeah?

It was about time for a good adventure and the weekend didn’t fail us. Leslie, Still Waters, April and myself rolled on down the highway at high noon on Friday, heading toward the big town of Erwin, Tennessee. The plan was to spend the night and get up early to meet at the trailhead Saturday. I have to say the drive was absolutely a blast. We all talked nearly non-stop and laughed equally as much. At some point the words “fried fish” came out of someone’s mouth and a quest to find a littleElsies...Eternal lunch.... café with fried anything began. It ended at Elsie’s Steak and Seafood,home of “All You Can Eat Fried Catfish” and the local Optimist club. Obviously we all had been on some kind of fried food fast because everything that landed on the table had seen Crisco and was not long for this world. Stuffed and satisfied, we over tipped Elsie and headed toward the great town of Erwin and the Holiday Inn Express.
A friendly check-in, settling into our clean room, a quick trip to the local Wal-Mart, (Always interesting,)dinner at Clarence’s Drive In and we turned in early. There was little movement and no snoring as we all dreamed of the trail ahead.
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After a fascinating breakfast at the Holiday Inn, (Who knew there was an automatic conveyer belt pancake maker?!!!) we packed up at sunrise and headed toward the Hostel to meet our group.

The Mountain Harbor Hostel /Bed and Breakfast was delightful!IMG_2857IMG_2886

For $15.00 a night, hikers can stay in a clean bed, have access to a shower, stocked frig and small kitchen. There was a small General Store that operates on the honor system and for $9.00 a full breakfast at the main house can be had. A member new to our group had stayed the night and greeted us with enthusiasm. Patty aka Dream Believer would prove to be a tireless hiker and cheerleader sharing her wisdom and love of nature.
Soon we were joined by Hemlock, Cindy, and Sweet Pea and were IMG_2891shuttled up a bumpy, curvy route to the trailhead atCarvers Gap.The hike began on a beautiful, blue sky, 80 degree treasure of a day, and slipping through the gate we began our hike. Almost immediately we were embraced by a Balsam Fir forest that can only grow at 5000 feet.( I looked around for Ewoks, but saw none…..) Delighted, we wandered along and soon began our ascent up Round Bald, picking our way past a mile long bucket brigade of young people restoring the trail with rocks. (One of the girls commented as we went by, that we were the pretty hikers!) highres_50264351
The climb continued up, as we topped Round Bald passing masses of Rhododendron bushes with the wind whipping around us. We stop periodically to spin 365 degrees and burst into the Sound of Music ,which will be our theme song for most of the trip! On we go over and up Jane Bald surrounded by magnificent mountains and valleys, numerous plants and flowers and goats grazing beside the trail, guarded by a ferocious “goat”dog.
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Jane Bald proves to be the perfect lunch spot to languish in the warm sun and chat with other hikers as they pass through this intersection. Nourished, hydrated and rested we head down the AT back into the forest. Our hard work rewarded by an amazing sea of wildflowers blooming all around us. Much of the trail barely wide enough for our feet, it is like we are walking through a carpet of colors. The surprising and pleasing display included Yarrow, Daisy’s, Bee Balm, Echinacea, Dodder, Turtlehead, Phlox, Gentian, yellow and purple touch me nots, Beech Drop, Queen Anne Lace and Angelica. I can hear Joan swooning in the distance……

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We pass the Stan Murray shelter, do a quick Keen Hiking boot commercial….IMG_2977and follow the rolling trail down to the Overmountain Shelter, a two story red barn structure housing several college students. This proves to be a good place to regroup and watch the clouds rolling over the valley like waves in the ocean…We made the decision not to camp here, but to press on UP and over Little Hump Bald.
and this……is where we lost Shemeah……….
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Almost everyone needed to replenish their water and this was IMG_2933the last source before we would camp. Still Waters and Hemlock had filled up while the rest of us were airing out our toes at the barn. Hemlock waited with April while the water bearers loaded up and Still Waters decided to head on to scout out a site.

The mighty climb up Little Hump began…..Hemlock, with her long legs and natural gait soon became a distant pinhead as I followed, Fabs and Leslie not far behind and April and Patty bringing up the rear. To an overhead observer, I think we might have looked like one of those slinky caterpillar toys, starting and stopping, getting closer together and stretching back out, as we made our way, our breathing heavy and labored up, up and more up.

The views are breathtaking as we go, making the pain worthwhile, majestic mountains with tufts of white clouds rising out of them, waving grasses along the trail, rocky outcrops and the sun breaking the clouds providing us with “God Rays” and more layers of blue mountain ridges.
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Catching up with a waiting Joan, Leslie, Fabs and myself reach the top and go up and over trying to outrun a rain cloud with April and Patty being pursued by a rolling fog beneath us. Confident that Shemeah is ahead of us, we laugh that she has already started a fire….. Just as we hit the shelter of the scrubby trees, it starts to rain and we quickly cover out packs and put on our jackets, all the while looking along the narrow grown up trail for a place to hang four hammocks and place three tents.

Not far into the woods, I manage to once again step in a yellow jackets home and feel stinging on the back of my leg. Tearing down the trail with Leslie right on my heels feels all too familiar! Sprays and cream is applied and Joan and Fabs meet up with us after waiting for the nest to die down and suddenly we spy the perfect campsite!!! The heavens open, music plays and we are practically delirious with joy……until we realize…..there is no Shemeah……….

Warbonnet VillageWe are joined by April and Patty and begin the work of setting up camp before darkness falls, all the while worrying about our hiking partner. A cell call is placed with a single bar and a message is left. There is discussion about sending Hemlock out to look for her but it is decided that we will all stay put, that Still Waters is a competent hiker and will be fine. We speculate that she might be eating Spam with the Boy Scouts when suddenly we hear her entering camp with a shout!
IMG_2869She receives a heroes welcome and we are all relieved that our group is once again complete. Apparently, she hiked an additional 4 miles, while exploring a new trail and making a wrong turn headed back toward the Stan Murray shelter . She did indeed meet up with the Boy Scouts, but they did not have Spam. ….
Relieved, our dinners are prepared, bear bags hung, business is done and we all retire early, exhausted from the days adventures. Thankfully, I sink into my hammock, cocooned by my borrowed Yeti, (thank you KP) andfaithful Ethel, slipping off to sleep to the night chorus of critters and campmates….
to be cont.

Stone Mountain

From the North Carolina Trail Dames….

The views were stunning. We spent a while just sitting, chatting, contemplating, relaxing, and enjoying the view. After 30 minutes, we decided to push on and continue down the relatively flat trail to another outstanding view. After another quick break, we continued on, going down hill to hike along a stream that soon became a huge waterfall. When we got to the bottom of the falls, we took a snack an water break and indulged our feet by taking a dip in the cool refreshing water. It was perfect. We continued on to finish up with an amazing view of the mountain we had just climbed. By this point we were all hot and sweaty and ready for our reward. ICE CREAM!!! We all headed for the local general store for some home made ice cream and cold drinks. This was an awesome ending to a beautiful, warm day.

Posted at 08:12 PM in Appalachian