Whatever is Excellent

My baby for about 30 minutes

Whatever is Excellent bus


Off to the Swahili Coast...



All the buses here seem to have a random message displayed on their front windshield. My bus from Moshi to Tanga said "Whatever is Excellent," which I thought was really strange...but then it kept popping into my head during my time along the Swahili Coast. I kept thinking, "Yes! Whatever IS Excellent!" Regardless of what happens, it can be excellent depending on how I see it.  All sense of personal space was lost during that five hour bus ride...and I even had a baby placed on my lap (without my permission) for the last leg down south to Peponi Beach. But it was cheap and efficient and made for great people watching!

The Tanzanian coastline is breathtaking. There are monkeys in palm trees along the beach...the ocean is warm...there is a great breeze in the air at all times. It's pretty much heaven on Earth. But this didn't keep me from having my first African day of irrational crankiness...I woke up on the wrong side of the tent after a terrible night's sleep and remembering that my clean clothes were left outside during a midnight downpour. It was just one of those days, despite being in the most perfect paradise imaginable. But then I remembered that whatever is excellent...and I snapped out of it. :)

"Pepi" the dhow, took us to a little sand island for snorkelling.
It was gorgeous!!!

We camped for a few nights at Peponi Beach Resort, which has amazing food and super cold beer. Campsites are only $4 per person and steps from the Indian Ocean. It's something you'd see in Budget Travel magazine. We took a dhow out to a tiny island and snorkeled in its reef...and I pretended like I was a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model. I couldn't resist the offer of a raft, so I also found myself floating in the Indian Ocean, although I was kind of worried the wind would carry me to Mombassa.





Off to Pemba Island...

Arriving on Pemba Island after five hours in steerage

Lots of fish on the streets of Pemba Island

We then hopped on a ferry (cargo ship, as it turned out) to Pemba Island, known for its clove production, voodoo practices, and endemic "flying foxes." It's one of the most beautiful places I'd never want to visit again. I loved it at first, but my admiration soon turned to impatience. It was too slow for me. And I didn't like having to cover up my entire body in hot & humid weather (Pemba is 95% Muslim and very conservative). I didn't realize I'd have to walk through a village on our way to a beach, so I wasn't covered up properly. My shoulders were exposed and my knees occassionally peeked out under my sarong. I have never received so many dirty looks from other women. It was an uncomfortable feeling to know the way I looked made me unwelcome (or so I perceived).

My new beverage of choice: sugarcane juice!

A handful of the many unsupervised children roaming the roads of Pemba Island.

Example of how children here MAKE their own toys out of TRASH. 
This was a kite. And he loved it.
Orion, are you reading this?? :)

Our overcrowded dala dala ride to north Pemba

The north coast of Pemba is known for its diving and almost all of the island's tourists congregate in this area, rarely leaving their hotels except to dive in the surrounding waters. We headed up there so Natcho could dive, but instead of staying at a fancy resort we camped next door at Verani. Managed by three 16 year old boys who made a delicious dinner of freshly caught fish, Verani is on a beautiful stretch of beach, but has a few problems. No running water or working toilets...and my biggest issue: no hot sauce for my breakfast eggs! And did I mention it's run by three teenage boys????


Mkoani - after our sail back to town from Kwata Island

One of many chicken ferry passengers
on the way to Stonetown.








We spent an extra day on Pemba because our ferry from Mkoani to Unguja (Zanzibar) stood us up. This worked out in our benefit, though...we ended up sailing to a small, remote island and spent the afternoon snorkelling again. 
 

Sunset from dinner at Verani


Men in one line; women & children in the other, but for no understandable reason.
Everyone sat together on the ferry...with the chickens.

Off to Unguja...

I fell in love with Stonetown from the moment we landed. It's mysterious and beautiful and delapidated and full of diversity. We discovered some great places to eat, including the Fordohani Gardens night market, which has countless street vendors who all claim to have the best food (most of which I wouldn't touch, nevermind taste)...meat and fish skewers, Zanzibari pizza filled with random minced bits and mayo, baby shark, octopi, shrimp, lobster, and probably some endangered species. It was gross, but also made for an exciting culinary experience.  Once again, most of this place seemed to be run by teenage boys. Curious.

 

fancy Zanzibari door in Stonetown



Top of House of Wonders, 
overlooking Fordohani Gardens

.








 





Stonetown kids

Off to Jambiani...

Our first lodging in Jambiani, Kimte, took minimalism to a whole new level.
 Bug spray was about the only decoration in the room.



We drove to the southern east coast of the island, which I had heard was the least touristy of all the areas on Unguja (Zanzibar). Jambiani has a vibe of Tulum, a tide like San Felipe and water like the Carribean. We stayed our first night at Kimte, a little place on the beach run by a group of Rasta guys who spend their days relaxing in an irie sort of way instead of fixing up their "resort." It has great food and a bar right on the sand. I was content there, but then we took a walk...and I saw the place next door. Coral Rock Hotel had an infinity pool, fancy rooms, a beautiful restaurant, other guests (!) and free use of their sporting equipment...and the price difference wasn't very much. We moved over for our last night of island living and basked in the sun, swam in the ocean, drank a pina colada by the pool, and went for a sunrise kayak paddle. It was perfect and I want to return ASAP! :)

View from Coral Rock Hotel (with Kimte behind me in the distance)
 

Sunrise at Jambiani Beach

 

This dog followed us out into the ocean.



Jambiani villager as tide was going out

Safari Soap Opera

Being on safari is kind of like watching a soap opera. The same themes exist in both...like love triangles, heartbreak, murder, fierce competition, romance, bad choices, second chances, missed opportunites, family loyalty...you get the idea. I loved watching these stories unfold right before my eyes with my guide as the narrator. There is so much drama in nature!

This is hippo foreplay (I won't subject you to what I saw next!)

pregnant zebra

Heaven's rays over the Serengeti

Hungry Hungry Hippo

I now understand the whole bird watching thing. Birds are so cool!!!

Visiting all the animals that live within the Ngorongoro Crater made me think about how life is really about getting along with others and sharing resources. The animals out there do it so well. The zebras and wildebeest are not in war with each other over the grass. They share it! And if you don't like someone, you just do your best to avoid them...like crocodiles and hippos...or lions and hyenas. It shouldn't be so difficult for people to coexist with one another. If animals can do it, then why can't we?

Serengeti safari with Natcho

Maasai schoolhouse, with 40+ kids inside all under the age of six...sitting quietly. I can't figure this out and part of me thinks it was just for show. "Hurry, kids....the tourists are here....places everybody!"

One of the many well behaved "Kindergarten" students in the Maasai school.
(Check out the toothpick accessory through his ear.)

I'm not sure if reincarnation exists, but if it does....please, please, please don't make me return as a Maasai woman. That is my idea of hell on Earth. I've always romanticized tribal cultures, but after visiting a Maasai village I can now say with 100% assurance that there is nothing romantic about being a Maasai woman. I won't get into the details, but let's just say it's a very male-dominated culture. And...their diet of meat, milk and blood is gross. Really gross.

Maasai men doing their jumping dance

 Leave it to me to end up at an Irish pub in rural Africa!

On our last day of safari, we stayed at a place called "The Octogon Lodge" and it was so beautiful! Plus they had an Irish pub!!!! I couldn't have been happier.

Natcho and I are now off to the coast of Tanzania to explore the beaches, snorkel and practice our Swahili. I return to Moshi on Oct. 10th to start volunteering again at Give a Heart to Africa. I'm feeling very, very lucky.

Rwanda on My Mind

Rwanda has always held a special place in my heart because of its 1994 genocide, but now it is also a part of my soul. I love it here. This is a period of growth and optimism for the people of Rwanda...and although there is severe poverty, there also seems to be great opportunities developing for many people here. It's difficult to believe that the hurt and anger caused by the loss of so many loved ones isn't still hovering over the country, though. The vast majority of people "appear" to have moved on. They seem to have great faith in their current government and try to focus on the future of Rwanda instead of dwelling on its past. It's kind of mind boggling, but I guess it's the only way to move forward. Anything else would be disastrous.

I feel like I'm in the middle of one of history's greatest examples of human resiliency. But there is an overwhelming sense of paradox here... between rich and poor, urban and rural, the past and the future, nightmares and dreams, and between reverence and forgiveness. It is impossible to forget what happened here 16 years ago...but the current government's forceful message of inclusion and unity seems to be working. However, I think that under the surface, people are scarred beyond our imagination. The trauma caused by seeing those you love tortured, raped and slaughtered doesn't go away. Many people here, mostly women and children, were themselves tortured, mutilated and raped (and purposely infected with HIV)...so there are survivors of a different kind too. How can you live next to someone who has betrayed you in the worst ways possible? Although there are some mediation and counseling services, there isn't nearly enough help for all the survivors in this country. There is a feeling of sadness in the air, but people here are are also very friendly, welcoming and optimistic.

During the beginning of the genocide, many Tutsis and moderate Hutus thought they could find protection inside churches, but that was not the case. Having groups of people congregate in one place, even a church, just made it easier for the Hutu Power regime to kill more people at once. Also, many priests betrayed those in hiding by becoming informants to the rebels. I documented my visit to the memorial site in Ntarama, 30km south of Kigali, because I want to teach my future students about the Rwandan genocide. Some of the pictures are graphic and I apologize if they bother you...but I think they're important to share. The entire world turned a blind eye in 1994 and I don't think we should have the privilege to turn our eyes away now. Over 2000 people, including many children and women, were massacred on the grounds of this Catholic church during the second week of the genocide. The stain on the wall in what was the Sunday school room is the blood of children who were violently thrown against it. The clothes hanging from the beams belong to the victims. There are many personal items displayed, such as watches and jewelry. Everywhere you turn, there are constant reminders of the horror which took place here.

What was the Sunday school room

Grenades were used to reach those hiding in the church.

 

Kigali Genocide Memorial Center

The Kigali Genocide Memorial Center was just as powerful as Yad Vasheml in Israel, but I think I may have been more affected by this memorial because the genocide happened within my lifetime and because I was very young when I went to Israel. It does a wonderful job of explaining the events that led up to the genocide, how the world ignored those signs, how the Belgian government is largely to blame, and also details the brutality people inflicted on one another. It has an exhibit on other genocidal massacres that have occurred in recent history, in which there seems to be many parallels, such as the use of propaganda, the foreshadowing that was ignored, the "group think" mentality, and how people around the world are affected by what they hear (or do not hear) through media. It's incredibly frightening.

The youngest children who were orphaned by the genocide are now becoming adults and there is a greater need than ever to support and help this group of people to become successful Rwandan citizens. The Akilah Institute for Women is a great example of a new program aimed at helping this population. My tour of their school was inspiring. Young women who were orphaned and often left completely alone in this world are provided a free higher education in English, leadership and hospitality. It's just in its first year and has plans of expanding to serve 800 young women, including room and board. Since education is a top priority for the Rwandan government, it is providing the school with its new location, but Akilah will need to find funding for many more students than it has currently. They are doing wonderful work and I hope the school's growth is successful.

Many of the country's teachers were victims of the genocide and due to this tremendous loss, the country doesn't have a sufficient number of quality teachers. Part of me is thinking about coming back next year to join a teacher training program (Don't worry yet, mom, this is probably just one of my passing ideas). I met an American teacher at a coffee shop before I went up to see the gorillas and she invited me to come tour her school. It is supposedly the school where President Kagame sends his children! It's a very westernized, private, expensive school and nothing like the public schools in Rwanda (which I've yet to experience!), but it kind of reminded me of Monarch.

Silent Reading time in first grade classroom

I made one last stop before I flew out of Kigali at the Rwandan Orphans Project, an orphanage and school that I learned about through my mom. It's located just outside of the city in a nice area, but the center itself is very minimal (to put it nicely). There are about 90 boys, ages 6-18, who live and go to school on the premises. These are children and teens who have been living on the streets, so there's no doubt there are many challenges. It's very crowded. The classrooms are bare and the resources scarce. Most of the students are very behind in school because they haven't attended in some time.  There is very little funding. Teachers who are tasked with teaching English don't know it themselves. I can't even imagine all the other challenges that go along with running this type of program...but I think it has great potential, especially under the leadership of Sean Jones (he's a real dynamo!). I believe in what they are doing and I want to come back to help. We will see!

One of the dorm rooms (two kids per bed)

Lunchtime: ugali & beans

one of five classrooms (they all look the same)

the kitchen (I'm not kidding)

The Rwandan Orphans Project team

I'm very curious to see what the future holds for Rwanda. It appears to be doing very well, but appearances can be deceitful. As much as I believe in President Kagame's strong leadership, it also scares me a little. I hope the U.S. changes its support from pro-Kagame to pro-Rwanda...just in case.

Thunderstorm rolling into Kigali

Musanze, Rwanda - photos



Only about 700 mountain gorillas left in the world.



After munching on bamboo leaves for awhile, this Silverback walked out of the bush and plopped himself down right in front of us!



Dreams really do come true!



100% Cuteness

Professional mountain gorilla trackers (my heroes)



These kids ran up the mountainside from their lakeside village after spotting me from afar...one by one! Out of breath, each one calmly said the same thing: "Hello. My name is _____.
What is your name? Where are you from? Nice to meet you."





These kids ran after our Land Rover and once we stopped to take a picture of the view, they also stopped to talk. Out of breath, each one calmly said the same thing: "Hello. My name is _____. What is your name? Where are you from? Nice to meet you."



I delivered my Monarch students' mini posters about saving the mountain gorillas to the head office. This man is in charge of all gorilla tracking and he was so excited that kids in California know facts about saving the mountain gorillas. The posters will be displayed in a local primary school.



Visit to Amahoro Orphanage.
These kids were so amazing. They sang and danced for us....and played and wanted
their picture taken...and wouldn't stop smiling. :)



My new BFF at the orphanage. She became very possessive of me!




The independent wanderer

"Take my picture, take my picture, take my picture, take my picture."



My guide (and now friend), Gerard, was so good with all the little kids.

:(

My last morning in Northwestern Rwanda was spent tracking the endangered Golden Monkey. Since I was mildly obsessed with nonhuman primates at one point in my life, this was REALLY exciting for me!