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.

Day One: Kisumu.

Kisumu, Kenya - Now I feel like I’m in Africa. Having spent most of the past two days in airports and flying over the continent, I have arrived with the full team – which now includes Gregor Reid and his daughter Jennifer – in Kisumu, Kenya. Flying at the crack of dawn this morning, we were able to see Mount Kenya rising above a carpet of clouds – towering over it, in fact.

At Kisumu’s small airport, we were greeted by a group of uniformed school children who waved eagerly as we disembarked. Kisumu isn’t really a tourist spot, but the group seemed to enjoy watching the planes land. It’s a rural area, replete with farms and thatched houses on the opposite side of Lake Victoria from Mwanza, Tanzania, where we are headed in a few days. In town, however, Kisumu is pretty hectic, with Jeepneys and bicycle taxis careening down the roads and through the myriad roundabouts. In reference to driving in Kenya, our driver this morning said, “Here, you just take care of yourself”.

Gregor and Jennifer have already been on safari, and also had the opportunity to get up-close and personal with some cheetahs, and to pet them (apparently, they purred). Wild giraffes also come up to their hotel’s windows, and stick their heads through, which, based on the photographs, looked pretty neat. So far, I’ve only seen some pelicans or storks, and a crane, all of which are really large birds.

As the Internet service has been down at our hotel for a few days, we sought out an Internet café, which turned out to be a bit of an exercise in futility. After playing musical chairs trying to find a computer that would even let us open a web page, we waited. And we waited. Then, a couple of us drafted quick emails and pressed send. Nothing. The service went down and our efforts were lost. While we got nothing in return, all things considered, the 17 Kenyan Shillings I spent amounted to less than a Canadian dollar for a half-hour of so-called connection. And, I like to think that’s part of the experience, too.

As I am want to do, I parted from the group for a while this afternoon when we had some free time. I wandered outside the city gates and came across a large open market, where they sell pretty much everything, from dried fish, to fresh produce, to clothing. I tend to like to immerse myself in the world I am visiting, and not just visit tourist sites. I like to see how people live and what locals do and, because of this, I can be a bit impulsive in my wandering. Based on some of the looks I received, I’m not so sure I was welcome in this market. Being such a shutterbug at home, I also had to be more careful, given that many people here don’t like to have their photos taken, or want to be paid if you do. I encountered one vendor who asked me to pay up, though I hadn’t even been shooting in her direction. I also acquired a shadow, a young boy named Ricky, who followed me back to the hotel, asking for money, keeping up by hopping along on-and-off of the ragged sidewalks.

Our plans have changed for today and we will now not be going to Oyugis until tomorrow morning, but we have meetings for the rest of the afternoon, and into the evening.

Africa. (!)

Nairobi, Kenya - Okay, I have been up for 30.5 straight hours (discounting the 10-minute catnap I got on the plane), of which I’ve been traveling for more than 26 of those hours. But I’m here on the other side of the world, landing in Nairobi a few hours ago and then having to negotiate with an Air Kenya representative for the tickets we need to fly to Kisumu tomorrow morning. Yes, tickets we had already booked while back in Canada.

As we passed over the equator around 18:30 local time, the sun was setting with ruby reds atop brushed cotton clouds. It was a pretty sight. Unfortunately, the clouds thickened as we descended into Nairobi, greatly reducing visibility. The first thing I noticed about flying over Kenya was how dark much of it is – unlike many of the other places you travel, this country does not appear like a Lite Brite from the sky at night. Upon touchdown, a single thought popped into my head: “Omigod. I. Am. In. Africa.”

But, it’s 21:45 here and I have to be up at 5:00 to catch our flight at 8:00 tomorrow morning, so even the much sought-after Tusker will have to wait. Timely enough, too, because I just about lost electric power for the second time in ten minutes.

Head in the Sand.

In Flight - We have been flying over the African continent for some time now and have been greeted by little more than a giant tableau of sand for as far as the eye can see – even while traveling at 900km/h. A stretch a few minutes ago proffered some outcroppings of rock and a brief change to an ochre-hued landscape, but from the air, we were still left with enormous rivulets of sand – a giant beach without the water, or a sandbox you wouldn’t want to be stuck playing in. There also appeared to be a section of farm plots layed-out in rectangles and hexagons, but with no other signs of civilization around, and definitely no roads. At first, I had thought we were flying over some really dirty water, but then it struck me: could this be the Sahara? Yes, it was.

We have been blessed with a perfectly clear day for nearly this whole leg of the journey (my first stretch with a window) and it has been fascinating to watch the topography change from lush, verdant Dutch farms fed by the tendrils of innumerable irrigation ditches to the mammoth crags of the Alps to now, the vast aridness of a seemingly unending desert. It was also particularly interesting to see the crisp outline of Italy’s boot at the southernmost point of the European continent.

A notoriously poor sleeper on planes, I’ve only mustered a single 10-minute nap since we left 21 hours ago. With only a few more hours to go until we land in Nairobi, I’ll likely hold off at this point – I don’t want to miss seeing the land shed its skin yet again as we pass over the Savannah on our approach.

3...2...1...And so the Journey Begins.

Toronto, Ontario, Canada - As the plane gained altitude and the landscape shifted from checkerboard farms and the rust-coloured, paintbrush-like tips of fall trees in southwestern Ontario to a field of dimpled clouds, it struck me that my journey to a land far different from my own had begun. It is a journey that involves more than a series of connections through airports filled with nomadic people of whose lives you gain little but a fleeting snapshot. It is, I say without hesitation, a journey where the impact will be felt not just physically in the hot, dusty climates of rural Kenya and Tanzania, but on the psyche. And hopefully, at the same time, I will be able to help make a difference in others' lives. Having spoken with numerous people who have made this trip before me, I have an extremely difficult time thinking I won't come back in some way changed.

It is this feeling that both excites me and renders me slightly apprehensive – there's something about leaving a piece of yourself behind and coming back to those you love somehow less complete. Or, paradoxically, more complete. I have long been fascinated by how people live, particularly in other parts of the world, but I've been told that nothing really prepares you for your first visit to a developing continent like Africa. The poverty. The disease. The morbidity. The happiness. A trip to Malaysia last year provided me with my first real experience in the developing world, but the newly-industrialized country remains quite different from many of the areas I'll be visiting in Kenya and Tanzania over the next few weeks.

Drawn to the lore of Kunta Kinte, Kizzy and Chicken George, Alex Haley's Roots has been my favourite book since a young age. From the opening chapters of the book, I became intrigued with Africa, but never really thought I'd ever end up going there. Now, a flight to Amsterdam, followed by one to Nairobi, is all that stands between my breathing the air of what many consider to be the cradle of civilization. And I do not hesitate to believe that the journey will mean far more than travel to a far-off continent.

I hope you'll join me.