The story from the start

The day I arrived in Africa, I was extremely tired and nervous, to be honest quite scared. I flew into Nairobi and searched for someone who might be connected with the bus company that was to take me across the border to Arusha. Everyone seemed helpful and directed me to the right guy and so I sat and waited for the bus to turn up… for about 2 hours. I had acquired a transit visa for $20US and just had to figure out the 3 month visa at the border.

The bus showed up and I was the only one on it. I watched with apprehension as the guys threw my precious luggage onto the top of the bus with no ropes or anything to tie them down. Off we went on what I thought was to be a long journey. After about 10 minutes we pulled into a petrol station (completely understandable) and stopped. All of a sudden everyone was telling me to get out and my bags were taken down from the roof and transferred to more waiting hands. I got out.

The first driver had told me that I had arrived on the wrong day and that they had been expecting me the day before, now I was at this very busy petrol station I was greeted by a very nice man who even knew my name. He led me to another full bus and wished me well. I clambered into the last seat available and wondered where my luggage was. Off we went again. We passed some eye-opening scenes as we left Nairobi and it was a bit of a culture shock for little old me. I did not like the look of the health and treatment of the donkeys and dogs that I saw, let alone the visible economic differences for people.

So, a 5 hour bus ride ahead of me in a small seat with no leg room. I was exhausted. I soon drifted off, much to my annoyance, and constantly struggled to wake up again along the way. In the brief moments that my eyes were forced open, I saw zebra, then a giraffe, some ostrich and I was sure I saw a hyena. It felt as though I was on some kind of drug that refused me consciousness. I really wanted to be awake!

After about 2 hours I woke properly because my bladder was screaming. I began to wonder if there was such a thing as a toilet stop (there was none on the bus itself as it was only an 18 seater). Approximately 15 minutes later we stopped at a lovely, green little place off the road and were told we had 15 minutes. That was my first introduction to the amazing speed of ‘true love’ in East Africa. After relieving myself gratefully, I peered at the touristy knick-knacks and then sat on the green grass appreciating the few minutes without dust blowing everywhere. Immediately, a young man sat beside me and struck up a conversation about the typical things; where I was from, where I was going, for how long etc. Then, he announced that he loved me and I should come back to visit him very soon, I think I was too tired to be too surprised but I was happy when the bus was ready to leave again.

Not long after our brief stop we came to the border. There were people everywhere and they were mostly men. The driver stopped outside a dusty looking office with heaps of men milling around outside. We all had to file off, go straight to the office and have a passports and visas checked to leave Kenya, except we weren’t really told what to do… I just followed some other passengers. I have never been through a country border before, so I didn’t realise that we had to go through the exit and then through the entry at different places. The man in uniform at the Kenyan ‘exit’ office told me to go further up to get to the Tanzanian ‘entry’ office. I walked back out, still tired and a little confused. A man who looked like our bus driver asked me if I needed a Tanzanian visa, I nodded wearily and followed. He took me to an office further up where there were more men in uniforms. They asked for my passport and the expected $50US. I handed it all over and waited. They took the money, stamped my passport and gave me 5000 Tanzanian shillings, telling me it was ‘pocket money’. I walked out and back towards the bus, then the same guy asked me for more money and I started getting worried. The bus driver was in the bus and honking the horn. I realized that I was with complete strangers and it dawned on me that I may have been ripped off. I got back on the bus and we drove up to the real office. I felt sick as I looked in my passport to find the stamp… there was nothing there, they must have used a rubber stamp with no ink. I have to say, it was all very clever with matching uniforms, an actual office etc all of which looked just like the real thing in a developing country. I was duped and felt furious with myself. I instantly developed a feeling of mistrust and decided I didn’t like Tanzania.

My anger and self pity kept me awake a little longer but again I found myself nodding off again and again. We approached Mt Meru and it was beautiful, bathed in the best sunset colours and clothed in wisps of cloud. Coming into Arusha only confirmed my dislike for the place, there was rubbish everywhere and suspicious looking people crowding the streets around dusk. It was dark when we finally reached the stop I was to make. Thankfully my bags had survived and I stood in a dirt carpark with my luggage and wondered what to do next. The volunteer coordinator had arranged to pick me up and there was no sign of him. Gradually all the other passengers were collected or took taxis off into the unknown and I was left in the dark with the driver and 2 other strange men; one taxi driver and another I later learned was an askari (security guard for the compound). The driver asked if I had a phone number to call and I searched my belongings to find the website print-out and dialed the number… Gemma herself answered and I pathetically explained my predicament, she assured me that she would find the coordinator and make sure he was on his way.

The driver left and I waited with the 2 others who were kind enough to ‘look after’ me until the taxi driver was called away, I had had enough by this stage and just wanted to go back home. Finally, a ute pulled up and the passenger called out my name… boy, was I relieved. They drove me to a restaurant where some other volunteers were having dinner and we sat there for a couple of hours eating and drinking… there wasn’t much talking. We initially all said where we were from and how long we would be at St Judes but after that it was a kind of awkward silence that remained until we finally drove to the school. I was so thoroughly tired and fed-up that waiting for the departure from the restaurant felt like hours and hours of torture.

I was shown my room and not much else, so I went to bed. I slept until 1pm the next day and wandered out to find the place empty of anyone. I had no food and no water and felt helpless, depressed and completely alone. I really wanted to go back home on the first flight I could find.

The next few days were similar and I managed to scrape food together from others (when I found them) with the promise of paying them back (I also had no Tanzanian money whatsoever). I began the first school week with no spirit for the job and no real faith that I would stay. On my third night I got a roommate and so at least there was some sort of friendship developed and we shared our disappointments with each other. It seems that as there are so many volunteers coming and going all the time here that the people who have been here a long time just don’t have the energy to constantly make friends with the newcomers and so leave them to their own devices. It was a very difficult week.

I began to make a few friends with some of the short-term volunteers and started settling in a lot more. It also helped when more people arrived, some old and some new, and things began to move more smoothly.

After 2 weeks I was content, after 3 weeks I had a local boyfriend and was enjoying the experience. Now after more than 2 months, I love Tanzania and have many friends (mostly locals), a new boyfriend and I am teaching my favourite subject, music.

Zanzibar

Well,
I am no longer at St Jude's (only away for a week), I am in Zanzibar for a week with 7 other girls from St Jude's and it's so nice to have electricity and water! I feel like I have been away from a computer for weeks! The school has rainwater tanks as a backup for when we lose our water supply, but after just one day and a half they were emptied! We had to buy water and carry it in on mkokotenis (giant wheelbarrow things). When I say we, I mean the gardeners and workers around the school, although I helped because I'm learning to drive a mkokoteni... it requires great skills and balancing techniques... oh yes and muscles!
You can only imagine how much water we needed to cook rice and beans for over 800 plus have enough drinking water that many as well! The worst part of it was the smell that developed after a very short time in the toilets. There was no water to flush away over 800 people using them and it was disgusting! The whole school seemed to smell like sewerage for 3 days!!! So much I take for granted! Back home, growing up, if we had no water we usually had warning, then we also had rainwater tanks to back us up, we were never left high and dry so to speak!
We left Arusha early Saturday morning for a 10 hour bus ride to Dar Es Salaam, not my favourite place here at all but we stayed one night and left the next morning on the ferry (another 4 hours) to Zanzibar. We were all tired, grumpy and hungry and 3 of us were sick too, so it didn't really feel like we were on holidays at all.
We woke today to heavy rain (though it's still about 30 degrees) and wandered around town getting thoroughly soaked. About 4 of the girls really like drinking too much quite often and 6 of them smoke all day long, leaving 2 of us stinking of smoke... disgusting!!! I really hate cigarettes!!!
We are planning to go to the less touristy parts of the island tomorrow but for now we are happy checking out the night markets and avoiding the many men inviting us to their shop with 'special prices'.
We went to a museum this morning and it was pretty cool, it had heaps of history of the Muslim culture and it's influence here... almost everyone in Zanzibar is Muslim so there are a lot of veils! When you go to a local beach there are only men there, no women on the sand or in the water... I don't know why because the men swim in their clothes anyway so I'm sure the women could too! The men wear long shirts down to their ankles so the only hassle for the women would be the veils I guess... I know that I sure would not want to swim with cloth on my head in case I drowned myself.
2 weeks ago a whole bus load of us went to Arusha National Park to see the wildlife and I saw a hippo and it's baby! We saw colobus monkeys, baboons, warthogs, giraffe, all kinds of antelope/deer things, zebra, wild dogs, flamingoes, buffalo, monkeys and a weird looking bird. It was fun but another long drive. I'm considering going to the Serengeti but the national park fees have just gone up to deter tourists (they are going up again next year) to $80US per day so I'm not sure about that.
I've been on 2 homestays over the last 2 weeks, one was with a girl called Magreth (pronounced liek Margaret) whom I barely knew but her best friend and neighbour, Beatrice had invited Janet (my old roommate) to her house so she wanted me at the same time. Another neighbour was a little boy called Damson in the same class (all around 10 years old) and he was delightful and has a slight stutter, he helped carry my things up the mountain and we went to visit all 3 houses. It was a lovely afternoon and evening. I have photos of them and I will upload them soon.
The second homestay was with a girl in class 5, Miriam who has been nagging me since I started to come and stay at her house... she nags everyone and even if you've been there she nags to return over and over again! Some people at the school think it's because of the gifts. Whenever you visit the home of a child you should take gifts, usually of rice, sugar, beans, oil and basic food stuffs because they are so poor. So, Miriam lives with her aunt and uncle, who aren't as poor as most (they have a house and electricity and a TV etc, but are quite greedy. Miriam has had a few telling's off about hassling too many people to visit. I thought I'd end her nagging if I went once and got it over with... I was wrong!
I got their and gave my gifts and was treated quite well, but then the aunt asked when I was coming again, she said it would be convenient for her if I came the following 2 nights. I said that I couldn't because of all the meetings in the last week of school, which was true. So then she said to come on Saturday so she could take me to church the next day. I said I was leaving for Zanzibar on Saturday and wouldn't be back for at least a week. She then said,
"So, what gift will you bring us from Zanzibar?"
By this stage I was feeling hassled and just shrugged and tried to change the subject. She asked the same questions at least 6 more times over the evening and next morning. She took me to church anyway to listen to choir practice. Her choir is producing a CD of gospel music and it was quite beautiful to listen to, but there was no power, so no light and the practise was from 7pm til 9pm... in the pitch dark until a single candle was lit for about 40 people. Then the strict choirmaster man started hitting a young woman with a stick because she wasn't singing the right thing or something. I was a bit confused and quite disturbed by the seriousness of the singing.
I have another homestay booked in when school resumes ith the lovely boy, Damson. He has since declared his undying love for me and asked for my 'answer'!!! I wasn't really sure what answer he wanted but he is ten and in my class so I have told him he is an excellent student and a good friend! Never happened to me before!
About a year and a half ago I cut the palm of my hand on a glass while doing the dishes... several shards went into my hand and I just pulled them out immediately. About 2 months later I noticed a lump where I had cut myself and thought it was just internal scar tissue. A couple of later it was still there and when pressing down on that spot it hurt, so I thought that maybe there was still a piece of glass in my hand but I wasn't too worried. I pretty much forgot about it for about a year and then while I was in the USA I realised that it had moved inside my hand and was starting to hurt more often as I used that part of my hand more.
Since I've been in Africa it has moved more and now hurts daily, but only when it's pressed on, so I can't lean on my hand or grab things hard etc. I'm quite worried about it now (a little too late, I know) so I went to the Dr here and he said that no Dr in their right mind would go cutting open a hand looking for something that might not be there! I asked what I was suppoed to do and he just repeated himself. So now I'm worried... if anyone has any suggestions let me know.
My friend, Simon was the one who showed me where the Dr was and took my there and the poor guy had to put up with me 'carrying on' all the way there because I was scared. I thought that the Dr would just cut away and I didn't even know if they would use anaesthetic so by the time I got there I was a mess emotionally and had way to much adrenalin built up I was in tears... so then when the Dr did nothing, it was too much!
Simon took me for a drink afterwards (I really wanted one) and then some food and took me out to see Usa River and we sat in Rotterdam Garden for the afternoon. When we walked down to the river bank there were ants but we didn't see them... we got back up on the road and something bit me... in my pants! I found an ant. We walked on and again I was bitten, I found 2 more ants... then I realised I had heaps in my pants and started jumping up and down and squealing trying to get rid of them! Simon couldn't stop laughing so I started laughing and had to run to the bathroom to strip off and shake out my clothes. All afternoon though, I was paranoid that there were more and kept looking down my pants at the slightest inkling... which set Simon off laughing again, so it was quite a crazy day!