Day 13: A True African Experience.

Mwanza, Tanzania - As large raindrops begin to fall from a darkening sky, one of our host’s daughters reached up and silently took my hand in a sign of friendship as we made our way downhill through a small Mwanza community where we had had lunch. It was a sweet moment on a day that really featured a true experience in Africa that most tourists don’t have the opportunity to enjoy.

Meaghan, Alison and I had been invited to lunch by the interns’ housekeeper, Pendo, at her mother’s home a distance out of town. Making our way first to Pendo’s place, we were greeted by a succession of children – some hers (she has eight), some her sister’s and some her friend’s – in a small dark, teal room with a set of shuttered windows and a curtain that had been pulled across to separate bedroom from living room. Leaks in the ceiling were like large cup rings on a coffee table. Chairs and couches quickly filled as children came in, saying the respectful “shikamoo”. They seemed very excited to be having us as guests and quickly brought out a box of photographs and showed us their English homework. None of them spoke it much at all.

They were, however, quite eager to have their “picha” taken and would laugh with delight – and rib each other mercilessly – when we’d show them their facsimile selves on the backs of our cameras. The whole day, they’d point out photo opportunities and often stepped behind the shutter themselves. It was a nice change from having to be so careful about respecting cultural values here, where you don’t just randomly take pictures of people.

Eight children of various ages, the three of us and Pendo each piled into a dala-dala (a small mini-van-like bus) for the 25-minute ride to our destination. Stuffed beyond capacity, there were at times more than 25 sweaty people in the vehicle. And a basket of live chickens. This is Africa.

With the children leading the way and carrying a large basket of cooking bananas, vegetables, wood and other cooking supplies, we made the 20-minute trek up into the hills to Pendo’s mother’s home. The dirt ground in front of the relatively-large house was impeccably swept and out of small gardens sprouted plants that folded unto themselves when touched.

As one child flicked impatiently though stations on a large radio, another showed off his dancehall moves; others began preparing the food and yet another box of photographs was brought out. The children eagerly pointed out themselves and their parents. Pendo’s mother brought out a large bag of plaited straw and taught the interns how to make intricate patterns that could eventually be woven together into large mats.

Lunch, made on a small portable stove outside, was cooking bananas with tomatoes and onion, and some pineapple. Sitting around a coffee table, the children eagerly dove into a large plate, using pieces of banana to scoop up the sauce. Apart from the great company and honour we felt at being invited, the amazing thing about this was that they fed 13 people – most of whom are still growing – for less than five dollars (the enormous bundle of bananas cost 3,000 TSH, or about $2.75). It boggles my mind.

After lunch, the children rose to action, whisking away the dishes, washing and cleaning the house while Pendo had her hair braided by her mother. This was all a real African experience and I was very thankful for having been able to participate in it.

Day 12: Sekou Toure Hospital.

Mwanza, Tanzania - Visiting the Sekou Toure regional hospital in Mwanza this morning, we were reminded of how lucky we are to have the health care service we do in Canada. While the hospital was better equipped than the one we visited in Kenya earlier in the trip, its inadequacies were punctuated by its complete lack of electricity and water since last night. They have no back-up generators.

A large number of the hospital’s patient base of 4-5,000 lines the hallways on long benches, or sits on the lawn. One woman brought with her a basket of live chickens as geckos scurried along the floor. Each of the “In case of emergency, break glass” cases was cracked.

Each day, the hospital helps bring 40 babies into the world and cares for 80 HIV/AIDS patients. One advantage of its being a government-run hospital is that patients only need to pay 5,000 TSH (approximately $4.75) for a registration card that will cover all of their examinations, necessary diagnostics like ultrasounds or x-rays, and any medications. Wait times are only two hours.

HIV/AIDS patients undergo mandatory counselling sessions before they are able to see a doctor, and the room where one such session was being conducted was full of women and young children. And the surgeries scheduled for today? They will have to be postponed until such time as electrical power returns. Such is life in Africa.

This afternoon, we went back to the kitchen so that Meaghan and Alison could deliver follow-up exams related to the mamas’ English lesson earlier in the week. The mamas were busy cooking lunch for one of the local schools, for whom they prepare breakfast and lunch as a side business. We also returned to the Forever Angels orphanage for a couple of hours and it was nice to see I was remembered from last week.

Glasses: Half-Full.

Mwanza, Tanzania - All within five minutes today, we witnessed a large contrast of activities within the community where the interns’ apartment is located. Returning from the market, we saw a crowd forming as people hurried from all corners to see what the commotion was about. People were smiling, laughing and pointing toward a large throng of people amassed in front of a couple of stores, and someone else was lying on the ground. Suddenly, two police officers appeared from the centre of the mass, one firing shots into the sky, as they whisked an uncooperative suspect away. Yet five minutes later, when we came back outside, a crowd had formed for a different reason: some of the performers we had seen in the HIV/AIDS morality plays last week were doing an African dance, backed by musical instruments reminiscent of a southern jug band. Quite the activity – and a little surreal.

The heat hung heavily and we really felt its effects as we walked throughout the city, and over to the community kitchen, where Meaghan and Alison also teach the ‘yogurt mamas’ English three times a week. Today’s lesson was about the possessive forms of subjects and the interns worked with the mamas in both Swahili and English to help them understand proper sentence structure. The mamas were also really excited to receive reading glasses, which Meaghan’s mother had sent to the community. It was cute to see them trying on different frame styles, but the glasses should really benefit the mamas in their studies and day-to-day work.

All the while, a number of the community’s younger children began appearing on the kitchen’s steps and looked in at us with curiosity. Playing peek-a-boo and making some funny faces sent them into peels of laughter and led to their pretending to hide on the steps or to their scurrying away, only to return all over again.

Day Nine: Buswelu.

Mwanza, Tanzania - On roads carved from clay, and etched by rivulets and sinking tires, we made our way to the Buswelu Primary School this morning to take hand-made cards and picture books prepared in English and Swahili by students at Tecumseh Public School in London, Ontario for the children here.

At times, flooded roads became impassable and we were forced to wind through the labyrinthine community, past residents tending to meagre plots of land and washing clothes or themselves in their front yards. By the looks of surprise we received, it became immediately evident these weren’t roads regularly traveled by ‘s’. I suddenly felt very conspicuous and exposed in my pallor. The fact our cab ride to Buswelu – a suburb of Mwanza – cost an average man’s monthly salary was also food for thought.

Homes were generally constructed of clay or concrete; chickens, dogs and goats darted onto the roads with impunity. Children, of all ages, too. It continues to amaze me how many children are always scurrying about – often with loads of water or sticks on their heads – and taking care of themselves from very young ages. It’s not uncommon to see a five-year-old looking after his or her smaller siblings, without a parent in sight. I can’t imagine how young responsibility is foisted upon, or accepted by, youth here, but with the sheer level of poverty, there is an obvious reason why. There is very little time for parental supervision.

Upon arriving at the school, our car was immediately surrounded by children, pointing at us and asking us questions. Thankfully, Meaghan and Alison’s Swahili is much better than mine. Ushered into Headmaster Leonard Chinyele’s small office, we were welcomed and asked to sign the visitor’s register, which has happened everywhere we have been thus far. It was our hope to ask Mr. Chinyele to have students at the school write back to their Canadian counterparts on cards provided by the Western Heads East project; he readily agreed, saying that he could get them to us by the time the interns return home in December. The more we can learn about people in other parts of the world, the easier it can be to understand where we can help and what we can learn from them. Exposure to children like those at these schools is a positive first step.

Lions and Elephants, Hurrah.

Mwanza, Tanzania - The goal of the modern safari seems to be to shoot as many as you can of the ‘Big 5’ – lion, leopard/ cheetah, hippopotamus, water buffalo and elephant. Only now, you do it with a camera instead of a rifle.

While sitting beside my tent on the rim of the Ngorongoro crater the first night after a full day of travel, I realized our journey (“safari” in Swahili) had already provided me and my travel partner – Western Heads East intern Meaghan Horgan – with more than we could have hoped for. We were blessed with clear weather as we traversed various topographies – flat, dry savanna, tropical forests, lush mountains and short scrub – making animal sighting easier.

We were greeted almost immediately by giraffes and a herd of approximately 13 elephants, crossing in front of us. Three hours in, we had already seen thousands of antelope, gazelles and zebras. Water buffalo and baboons made their way through the grass at every turn. Hippos resembled clumps of grey rocks floating in the water; warthogs and ostriches scampered about. We had also crossed paths with our first big cats, including a pair of lions, a leopard climbing out of a tree and a cheetah enjoying its freshly-killed Thompson gazelle – while fending off a flock of vultures. All of this happened within a few feet of us, which was surreal, especially considering there are no fences. This is the wild.

We were reminded of this as we came across the female lion, lazily lying under a tree near a pond. We watched as a gazelle sauntered over, separated from its mates. It fell over, possibly sick, then continued to the water hole. The lioness tensed on her haunches and sprang into action, catching herself a meal. Seemingly unimpressed, a male appeared from the tall grasses and decided to challenge a water buffalo. Without the female’s support, he ended up backing down, tearing off a piece of the gazelle as a consolation prize instead.

During the trip to Ngorongoro, too, we passed a number of Maasai, their easily distinguishable red or purple garments contrasted against the dry grass. Their villages, surrounded by fences of stick and brush to keep predators out, dotted the mountainous climb. Acacia and Baobab rose randomly from the vast terrain, but passing hollow, bleached bones served as a reminder that this is one part of the world over which you have very little control.

The Ngorongoro crater – the largest unbroken caldera in the world, and considered by many to be the eighth wonder of the world – was breathtaking in its beauty, though clouds and fog washed in over it in the morning. It is also considered by some to be the birthplace of civilization. The crater’s walls rose high and were scarred by the switchbacks that took 20 minutes to traverse to the bottom. The backdrop was stunning, with cascading hills, vast plains and the large Lake Magadi. We had our drive interrupted briefly as a large herd of wildebeests crossed the road in a perfectly straight line and, toward the end of the day, we completed our ‘Big 5’, spotting one of the very few remaining black rhinoceros in the crater.

The second night, we camped in the Serengeti and went to sleep to distant calls from lions and hyenas. I was bitten on my Achilles by a tsetse fly, but though it really stung, I don’t think it has made me sick. It was an amazing and surreal night to look up at a partially-lit sky, pinpricked to let the heavens shine through the silence. Lit light blue, it was as though darkness should never completely fall over the sky, depriving us of the Serengeti’s beauty. I couldn’t believe I was standing in the middle of it at night, surrounded by all I had seen during the day.

Today, Meaghan and I rose at 5:45 to watch the sun rise over the park and to begin our trek home to Mwanza. We awoke to zebras, antelope and gazelles visible from our tent door; we passed lions as we exited the camp. On the way out, we saw many more animals and actually had a chance to get out of the car to take a rope bridge across a river in which a crocodile swam below. I didn’t want to lose my sandal. Or my footing. The most amazing experience came toward the end of the day when two long lines of elephants came together in a V, heading to the river to cool off. In all, more than 150 elephants of all sizes passed within feet of us. It pretty much summed up the trip for us: we were very fortunate to see all that we did; many people spend far more time and see far less.

Day Three: Mwanza, Tanzania.

Mwanza, Tanzania - Arriving in Mwanza, Tanzania this afternoon following yet another travel day (that makes five straight days on planes), we are finally able to shed our wings for a few and settle in one place. Upon arrival, we were met at the airport by the Western Heads East’s project’s current interns, Meaghan and Alison, and taken to Hotel Tilipia, on the banks of Lake Victoria. We were even greeted by birds the size of small adults, nicknamed “Dirty Birds” around here. I thought they were statues they were so big. Statues don’t move, though.

Taking in the sights from the air has its unique benefits and can give provide perspective about just how big things are, how the topography and climate change and how dense populations are. From what we have seen so far here, it’s mostly: very vast, predominantly arid and home to geographically diverse peoples.

We had a pretty clear day for flying and got a good look at Mount Kilimanjaro, where we landed to pick up additional passengers (I’m gathering Precision Air functions a bit like a big city bus…), the Ngorongoro crater and the Serengeti. There was also volcanic activity below as a volcano bordering the crater had begun spewing ash.

Seeing small vortexes of dust curling violently into the sky like wagging fingers, it was amazing to see just how dry and dusty everything is. I had believed the plumes were smoke from campfires, but as I watched them dance through the brush as the winds changed, it became apparent they were something else entirely. It was also particularly interesting to see homesteads on the savanna set up with circular or square fences of planted brush to keep wild predators away. Likely a good thing when you live in these parts in a mud hut. Small sections were portioned off with additional brush fences for gardens or for goats, and in the inner circle – with the most security – were the owners’ homes.

Prior to bidding kwaheri to Kenya this morning, we had an early meeting with Nyambura Gigthagui from The World Bank, who looks after funding for this probiotic yogurt project in Kenya. She warned of the importance of moving quickly to prevent any loss of momentum, and to also ensure that any community kitchens set up are wholly owned by the women’s groups rather than any one individual. “At the community level, we have so many resources available, but we need a framework for decentralizing them,” she said. Hopefully – and I believe we do – we have a positive way in which we can encourage these groups to take ownership and use their learnings to provide significant benefits to their communities.

The dust in the air has coated the interior of my lungs, bringing with it a slight hacking cough not helped by the long days nor the pollution in the cities, but none of us can believe we have been here for only three days.