Well, I had a surefire plan to upload pictures. We brought along the Macbook from the CSA office, so I was going to put my photos on there and then do something. As you may or may not know however, power surges in Africa are quite common. In fact, we lose power every Thursday night like clockwork. Unfortunately for my plan and for the laptop, the computer was plugged in during one of these surges, effectively frying the laptop. Pole sana.
In other news, we've been playing a lot of Uno, Tanzania-style. I consider Uno to be one of the most boring games ever, that is until I played with a bunch of the Masai that hang out around the hostel. Here's a brief overview of the Masai rules for Uno:
-Mistake: if you ever make a mistake during the game, say throw the wrong color, you must draw seven cards.
-Calling Uno: if you forget or wrongly call Uno on someone else, you draw two cards
-Doubles: (this is crazy) let's say a green nine is in play, if you have a red nine and a green nine, you can play both cards. This even works for Draw +2 cards and Wild +4 cards.
This promotes general mayhem. Before one of the Masai play one of these draw +2 cards, they look at you very sincerely and ask "You know pole sana?" Meaning: do you know how to say 'very sorry' in Swahili?
Good fun.
Yesterday we traveled to Arusha to see the Rwandan Genocide Trials. Most of the time, the trials can be extremely boring, with you listening to three hours of people asking "Did you staple the dossier?" "N0, it was paperclipped." "But where is the staple?" Etc...
Lucky for us, we got a cracker. It played out just like a movie. The defendant, Mr. Caremera was the Minister of the Interior of Rwanda during the genocide and VP in the interim government established by the Hutu Power groups. Needless to say, he was being charged with several counts of war crimes and what not. The prosectuor was a bad ass from America, and he was just grilling Caremera, who managed to deflect every question. At one point in the trial, Mr. Prosecutor (as he was referred to by Caremera) asked him whether Caremera was aware that government soldiers were using rape as a weapon. Caremera took 43 minutes to respond to this yes or no question, instead focusing on how clean and tidy of a person he (Caremera) is and how impatient the prosecutor is. Naturally, the whole group of people watching the trial was cracking up at this point.
Afterwards, we went to the Masai Market in Arusha, which was a terrible experience. There must be 50-100 shops crowded together, all selling the same mass produced souvineers at extremely high prices. And not one of them was Masai. After an painful 30 minutes of haggling, I left the market.
Teaching at KYGN has been going well lately, somehow I've been teaching math. One class is learning fractions and the other is learning basic Geometry. They latched right on to the Pythagorean Theorem the other day, although they have some trouble pronouncing Py-thag-or-ean. We finally bought a math book today, so hopefully the lesson plans will be a little more concrete. Luckily, a group of Israeli volunteers wandered into KYGN looking to teach the other day, and with us leaving for safari tomorrow, it was perfect timing.
Off to Lake Manyara, the Serengeti, Ngorongoro Crater, and Lake Natron tomorrow!
Oh, best Swahili word so far? The word for round-about: keepi lefti.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Monday, May 25, 2009
Photos, phinally
Here are some pictures from the weekend. We took a hike on "the monkey trail." Couldn't figure out what the place was actually called, but we did see some monkeys. Capuchins, or colombas, or something. They look like skunks.
There was also this massively old tree. Over 200 years or something.
After we'd walked for about an hour, we emerged out of the forest into this clearing with some irrigation system. Very Lost-esque, I thought. The towers made for a great view of the land.
There was also this massively old tree. Over 200 years or something.
After we'd walked for about an hour, we emerged out of the forest into this clearing with some irrigation system. Very Lost-esque, I thought. The towers made for a great view of the land.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
May 21
Lots of news, lots of news. We've been in Moshi for a few days now and we're finally starting to get the hang of it. The largest problem for me has been adapting to local time. Apparently, it isn't rude to be two hours late to something, it's pretty much the norm. So when you're told that your ride will pick you up at 8:00 am, that certainly means 8:30 if not later. Or if the driver is drinking konyagi (local gin, terrible) while driving 50km an hour over dirt roads, don't worry, it's okay. Hakuna matata.
During the days, the group has been volunteering at a variety of sites, nearly all of them focused on teaching. I've spent a few days working at KYGN, a girls-only school. I would sit in the back of a pick-up and ride through the sugar cane fields and shanty towns on the edge of Moshi until reaching this leaning brick building, in which there is three classrooms for sixty girls. Unfortunately, I was given the task of teaching the 5-7 year olds. Can you imagine how difficult it is as a substitute teacher to come in and teach a class of 20 girls how to distinguish between different shapes and colors? Then add in the fact that they speak no English (besides yelling "teacha!" every minute) and I speak no Swahili. Although I did learn how to say stop (acha), no (hapana), and say sorry (ongea pole), all vital.
After two days of this, I threw up my arms in defeat. While I would love to continue working at KYGN, it's seems impossible to accomplish anything without a grasp of the language. My time there did have some bright moments though. When teaching one of the older girls, she guessed my age to be 40. Apparently that's a compliment in Tanzania?... And, when the younger girls were acting up, one of the little ones ran outside and broke off a big stick for me, so I could hit those that were misbehaving. I thought it was touching.
Undoubtably, the best part about KYGN is the ride in the morning. You go bombing down these pot-holed roads through the sugar cane fields, and Kili is right behind you, with huge coffee and banana plantations at the feet of the other mountains. It looks a lot like Costa Rica then, very eery.
I volunteered today at TCC, a school/orphanage. I worked with the same age group as KYGN, but these kids were much better behaved and spoke some English. Heaps of fun, TCC was. It's in the same region as the KYGN school, but you have to walk. An exhausting walk, let me tell you. But pretty. Mostly exhausting though.
I've taken ton of what I think to believe to be great photos, but I can't for the life of me figure out how to get my pictures off the computer. Stupid Windows, making everything complicated.
Once I get those up, I'll be able to give a much better picture (dur) of Moshi and what we're doing here. Cross your fingers, it should be soon!
Word for the wise: When walking downtown Moshi, it's inevitable that you will be swarmed by men peddling everything from paintings to t-shirts. Saying no does not work. Nor does walking away. The most effective deterrent to these guys I've found, is to speak Spanish and act completely lost. It's an instant classic.
During the days, the group has been volunteering at a variety of sites, nearly all of them focused on teaching. I've spent a few days working at KYGN, a girls-only school. I would sit in the back of a pick-up and ride through the sugar cane fields and shanty towns on the edge of Moshi until reaching this leaning brick building, in which there is three classrooms for sixty girls. Unfortunately, I was given the task of teaching the 5-7 year olds. Can you imagine how difficult it is as a substitute teacher to come in and teach a class of 20 girls how to distinguish between different shapes and colors? Then add in the fact that they speak no English (besides yelling "teacha!" every minute) and I speak no Swahili. Although I did learn how to say stop (acha), no (hapana), and say sorry (ongea pole), all vital.
After two days of this, I threw up my arms in defeat. While I would love to continue working at KYGN, it's seems impossible to accomplish anything without a grasp of the language. My time there did have some bright moments though. When teaching one of the older girls, she guessed my age to be 40. Apparently that's a compliment in Tanzania?... And, when the younger girls were acting up, one of the little ones ran outside and broke off a big stick for me, so I could hit those that were misbehaving. I thought it was touching.
Undoubtably, the best part about KYGN is the ride in the morning. You go bombing down these pot-holed roads through the sugar cane fields, and Kili is right behind you, with huge coffee and banana plantations at the feet of the other mountains. It looks a lot like Costa Rica then, very eery.
I volunteered today at TCC, a school/orphanage. I worked with the same age group as KYGN, but these kids were much better behaved and spoke some English. Heaps of fun, TCC was. It's in the same region as the KYGN school, but you have to walk. An exhausting walk, let me tell you. But pretty. Mostly exhausting though.
I've taken ton of what I think to believe to be great photos, but I can't for the life of me figure out how to get my pictures off the computer. Stupid Windows, making everything complicated.
Once I get those up, I'll be able to give a much better picture (dur) of Moshi and what we're doing here. Cross your fingers, it should be soon!
Word for the wise: When walking downtown Moshi, it's inevitable that you will be swarmed by men peddling everything from paintings to t-shirts. Saying no does not work. Nor does walking away. The most effective deterrent to these guys I've found, is to speak Spanish and act completely lost. It's an instant classic.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Mambo!
Answer: Poa!
Meaning, "how's it going?" "Cool!"
It's a common greeting in Tanzania, far more than "jambo." Apparently, only tourists say jambo.
We've finally arrived! After that painful layover in Detroit and a terrible flight to Amsterdam (the movie screen was broken, and the floor under my seat was wet, what?) we had a layover in Holland. We locked our bags at the airport and ventured out into downtown Amsterdam for a stroll around the Red Light District at 6am. Aside from the sex shops, prostitutes, and coffeeshops, it was quite beautiful. The skyline of Amsterdam is dominated by massive churches, smack dab in the middle of the District is a gorgeous chapel! Interesting.
Amsterdam Centraal Station was amazing, too. On the inside, it looks like the typical urban train station; neon lighting, dirty floors. Yet on the outside, the station is massive, covered in ornate carvings and gold.
We arrived at Kilimanjaro Intl. last night and as we stepped off the plane, the first thing we noticed was the smell. The air was so sweet, almost mesquite. It did not smell like Los Angeles, nor an airport for that matter. Floodlights lit up the runway as we walked off the plane, massive bugs circled the light fixtures.
As we expected, there was a huge mix-up with our visas. After an insanely high fee (hey, we're volunteering, it should be free!) we found our bags and crammed all twelve of us into a minivan for the drive to Moshi.
It was strange to drive so far without seeing a single streetlamp. The only light on the road came from our headlights. Villages and stores would emerge out the darkness without warning. Total darkness. We knew Kilimanjaro was right in front of us, but we'd never see it. The stars managed to shine through the cloud cover, you could just make out the Southern Cross.
More to follow, I'm out of time at the cafe!
Meaning, "how's it going?" "Cool!"
It's a common greeting in Tanzania, far more than "jambo." Apparently, only tourists say jambo.
We've finally arrived! After that painful layover in Detroit and a terrible flight to Amsterdam (the movie screen was broken, and the floor under my seat was wet, what?) we had a layover in Holland. We locked our bags at the airport and ventured out into downtown Amsterdam for a stroll around the Red Light District at 6am. Aside from the sex shops, prostitutes, and coffeeshops, it was quite beautiful. The skyline of Amsterdam is dominated by massive churches, smack dab in the middle of the District is a gorgeous chapel! Interesting.
Amsterdam Centraal Station was amazing, too. On the inside, it looks like the typical urban train station; neon lighting, dirty floors. Yet on the outside, the station is massive, covered in ornate carvings and gold.
We arrived at Kilimanjaro Intl. last night and as we stepped off the plane, the first thing we noticed was the smell. The air was so sweet, almost mesquite. It did not smell like Los Angeles, nor an airport for that matter. Floodlights lit up the runway as we walked off the plane, massive bugs circled the light fixtures.
As we expected, there was a huge mix-up with our visas. After an insanely high fee (hey, we're volunteering, it should be free!) we found our bags and crammed all twelve of us into a minivan for the drive to Moshi.
It was strange to drive so far without seeing a single streetlamp. The only light on the road came from our headlights. Villages and stores would emerge out the darkness without warning. Total darkness. We knew Kilimanjaro was right in front of us, but we'd never see it. The stars managed to shine through the cloud cover, you could just make out the Southern Cross.
More to follow, I'm out of time at the cafe!
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Detroit sucks.
"If there's anything you want,"
na na na nuh
na na na nuh
na na na nuh
"Come on back 'cuz it's all still here..."
na na na nuh
na na na nuh
na na na nuh
Not true for Detroit. The place sucks, really.
We landed in the Motor City at 4:30 this morning amid storms and turbulence. I mean, if landing is such a hassle, let's just skip Detroit, no one wants to be here.
We have an 11 hour layover today, with nothing to do. At this point in time, we are all experts on the Detroit International Airport. There's a phenomenal water fountain, a fast red tram that runs down the main terminal, and a Chili's. There you have it.
It's all quite clean though, we've had no problem sprawling out on the floor for a nap.
It's approaching noon, time for the next dose of anti-malarial drugs.
Kwaheri!
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