Arusha, TZ Part One

I've been meaning to talk about this for a long long time now... On January 12th, 2011, I embarked on a journey to Arusha, Tanzania. A smaller town in the heart of East Africa, neighbored by Kenya and the Serengeti. I flew out of LAX, back pack unintended for checking making it's way up the conveyor belt with my anti-malaria pills and clean underwear. Weigh nothing but my purse, I was about to head to the other side of the world - 26 hours - in sweat pants and a tshirt. Good planning on my part.

The flight from DC to Addis Abebe was comfortable and relaxing save for the woman rolling around nonstop in the seats up in front of me and a tv monitor that would not work- 12 hours in the air and no mindless entertainment to be had. Thank god for Kerouac and the Dharma Bums.

Arriving in Tanzania, our large plane on the tiny Tarmac made a joke of this international airport. With the sun beating down and sweat dripping down the inside of my light t, I made my way thru customs, my visa, my bag and onto the shuttle with Haika and Michael, two of IVHQ's finest. The joy I had in meeting them two of them and crawling into the bus to make the hour drive to Arusha  was pure. The van was full of laughter and excitement as
I tried to wake up and take in the beauty of the green hill sides, the strong women carrying the fruits of their labor, the cows and mules and rubbish fires.

The dula-dula's scream past, packed to the brim with daily commuters. Green line, yello line, black line, all Undistinguishable from one another if it weren't for the single stripe of color racing down the sides.  she tells me to remember yellow and green lines, I will be catching them to get to school. I simply smile.

'can't wait'

My first night at the volunteer house was long and tiresome. With little sleep from the flight the days before, and no tv to help slow the brain down, I could barely understand the situation. But the situation I speak of is trying to get a safari scheduled for myself and the other recent arrival Dino.

Dino is this older office type from China-Bangkok I believe- that who had come to Africa not to volunteer for a week, but head to the serengeti and see the safari ride. Now, for the sake of clarity, I am not opposed all together to safari, though I have my hesitations and opinions on the impact and if that's sustainable and mutually beneficial.... BUT there was this desire of his to go that dumbfounded me. He was willing to and did actually give up his entire week to go on safari, and tried as he might my first night there to tag along with him. Even as far as opting to pay my way. Couldn't give up my week with the kids, but he had a amazing time, lions in his camp, the whole kit and kaboodle.

The next morning I woke early to head to out with some of the other volunteers on a waterfall hike. We walked through town, the little stands selling mango, papaya, corn, berries, avocado. They cut them fresh for you with machetes. Green bananas perfect for curries and stews sat in massive bundles on the roadside and women welcomed you over and children laughed and joked. Sam our tour guide took us by fruit stands, medicine men, and shoe makers.

"don't take any photos. They can tell you are not from here and they will either try and steal from your camera or they will be angry thinking you will sell their photos and make money off of they're faces. Just be smart, you know?"

I don't have many photos of locals..and the ones I do have are blurred as I attempted to take the most candid of photos...over the shoulder, past the hip.

After visiting an art factory where newspaper is turned into vibrantly painted cloth, we made a visit to a local sandal company, run by all women HIV positive. These ladies sat in a small little room, hand beading leather sandals with ornate decorations of beaded shells, flowers, peace symbols. They laughed and giggled at our bad Kiswahili and funny names and funnier accents, so we thanked them for their time, and stopped off for water before ascending into the forest to the ravine to the river to the waterfall. As we began leaving the rest stop, a rabid dog appears at the top of the hill. Men, women, and children are all around yelling and waving people and the dog away. Men with sticks ran after it, into a fenced in farm and off to some unknown place. We were all slightly mortified, having read and heard so many horror stories about rabies while preparing to make the voyage all the way around the world. But Sam grabbed a rock, Jordan (the other guide) a stick and off we went. Never saw the dog again, though rumor had it he bit a woman as we were passing by...never know.

We begin the real hike after passing of all the buildings and shops. The incline is nothing to laugh at, breaks upon breaks were taken, one girl near faint and nauseous. Aside from the incline, it was 98 degrees out and sunny. The most difficult part was that you were doubley burning- feeling the burn inside and outside. It wasn't until we hit the forested plateau that we were able to catch out breaths and take in the view. Wild. Absolute wilderness. We came out into a high clearing and could see green valleys for miles, farms, the river in the ravine, and forest. Unreal. Green and crisp. Perfect air. Everyone has their cameras out, we're taking video of the wilderness and I rotate to see these kids approaching us. Dark brown bald girls and boys with machetes and frisbees headed to do chores. They come up to the lens and watch as I take video of them and their friends. They love it, as do I as I sit on the ground surrounded by all these kids. It was so warm and we took video and photos for a few minutes, before they continued on to do chores. Chopping up firewood was the task we would find out on our way back from the the falls.

We hit the descent point into the ravine to get to the river, and as we start hiking down, we realize how hard it's going to be. The ground is slippery mud, slathered on boulders, and wrapped around tree roots. Somehow, I don't know if it's the coloradan in me or not, but I was able to manage getting down with relative ease. Not to say it wasn't difficult, but I was able to manage the difficulty... I'm not trying to brag, but found it funny because Jordan kept referring to me as solider, a nickname I kinda like... Anyway.

We arrive at this small steady river, enveloped by trees and the sounds of birds and running water. All around were trees, greens and yellows and reds like I'd never seen before. Looking up to barely see the sun peeking through the trees, highlighting the water in deep green halos of light. Small fruits fell from the trees, shaken loose by monkeys jumping from limb to limb. We walked two miles down the river, stopping to admire moss covered stone walls, ant hills, and flowers. We had all tried- for most of the hike - to keep our feet dry, zig-zaging back and forth across the water on small rocks not fit for humans to balance. Eventually some of us threw in the towel, myself acknowledging that the water was probably cleaner than the Santa Monica Beaches and that a little water would probably cool my sweating brow.


After about 2 hours - or so it seemed, we rounded the corner to the waterfall and our final destination. We took off our shoes, some of the boys jumped in with the local boys in the lagoon and swam, hiked to right under the falls and felt the cool water wash away the sweat and dirt. It was as if we had walked on set of my favorite nature doc. It battled with my LA delusion that these places just don't exist anymore.

Surrounded by this beauty, beetles the size of quarters and every color  of the rainbow, and yet, in this deep African Jungle, buried from all modern stresses and habits of life, there were multiple plastic bottles floating around the lagoon. If you know anything about me, litter and trash are something that make me absolutely livid. Depressed almost with the way the human race has turned out that we can't find a suitable way to deal with our own mess. This is a soap box I will step off- for now- but needless to say, the omnipresent plastic bottles really put me as a human in perspective with this big world and in a weird way, showed me there is no place I may not tread, as long as I do so lightly.

Regardless, the hike was absolutely incredible. Seeing that kind of ultimate terrain on my very first full day in east Africa- and out of the US I should add- was something that will always sit heavy and sweet on my heart. We had tasted wild "African Strawberries", laughed with small children, collected sand and held hands with babies. We even watched a wedding parade go by, filled with powerful singing and children chasing the van clapping. To know that there is a culture of people who have left this land as is, untouched (save for the bottles probably left by other tourists) is mind-blowing and inspiring. We met so many different people and lives on this hike. From the doctors and HIV stricken shoe makers, to a single grandmother running a farm on the side of a hill, living in a grass hut among her cows and the many children of the family, to Sam and Jordan, down to a little part of myself I had yet see, I walked out of that mountain taking more than what I had come with. I was definitely ready to spend the next 8 days in this place, meeting more and more people, and smiling as I went along.

We all slept like babies.