Find the Time to Compose Three Essays and a Medley

Here in Tanzania, we’re down to the wire when it comes to final papers and exams.  But, as the old Kiswahili proverb tells us, “haraka haraka haina baraka.”  Or, for the rest of you guys, “haste does not make for blessings.”  It’s exactly what my parents and wise older-folk have always been fastidious about pounding into my brain: that getting the job done quickly doesn’t mean that it’s done correctly, or in the best fashion.  You get back what you put into your work, and I’m not about to let my A+ grade average falter because they were the last assignments.  Yes, that’s right friends and family, I’m actually maintaining an A+ (and even one perfect score) grade average here.  I’m not sure what powers of the universe are acting in my favor that I should receive these fantastic scores in a field that is quite far from my own, but I fervently pray that I remain in their best esteem. 

   (Note: this post shall be accompanied by some lovely, treasured photographs from Tarangire).

   Three papers: Two written in Kiswahili, and one written about my observations at my homestay, and what environmental or conservational impacts their actions may warrant in every-day living.  Faced with these final essays, I pulled a classic Kristin P. 

   I turned on my music, checked every email outlet I had (to my dismay, no emails to distract me), organized my room, swept the floors, uploaded some pictures, made a snack, cleaned my water bottles, showed off my new skirt, and read a bit of Moonwalking with Einstein.  Everything else, but sit down and write what I knew to be simple papers.  One was about my stay here so far in Tanzania, and the other about shopping in Rhotia with 500 Tz shillings.  And yet another short essay about a great day at my homestay.  Compared to my papers at UNC, which are never shorter than 5 pages, these papers are always a short 1, or 2-3 page written opinions and observations.  Honestly, they’re systematically documented fact sheets divided into sections, and they’re so easy to compose.  And any paper written in Kiswahili is bound to be fun, because I get to practice what I’ve utilized in conversation so far. 

   So why was I avoiding them? Two reasons, actually.  One is – and I’m often falling victim to this decisive thinking – that the subjects are so simple.  Why worry about them when I know I have ample amount of time to do it later?  The second reason is because I’m in Africa, living with some fun individuals, and preparing for what is bound to be a frantic few weeks.  So I want to have fun.  It’s easy to get wrapped up in the wonders of the area, and the culture, and forget that you’re actually in school.  In attempts to reconcile with my procrastination, I took the time to finish my papers.  My rewards are plentiful, because now I can enjoy tomorrow (a non-program day we’ll spend shopping and going to a pizza place) without having to worry about my papers.  Also, I can focus on my upcoming exams (this I’m less enthusiastic about).  But the best news?

I have no more papers to do for the rest of the semester, and the only tests I’ll have are occurring next week.  The only thing I’ll have to focus on is my directed research in Kenya… which, I recently discovered, will be a lengthy 15-25 page research document… but at least I’ll be living with the lions!

  

A quick message to some loved ones:

Miranda, Roomie, and D: I apologize for missing your birthdays, and I hope you all had a great time!

Mom: I've taken every malaria pill on time!

Dad & John: Don't have too much fun kayaking without me!  You guys can't hoard all the fun to yourselves.

Red: Travel agents are always a pain.

And to my followers: You guys are awesome, thanks for following my adventures here in East Africa! I love hearing from you all.

Just in case you're missing my beautiful face.

And I've already acquired so much color!

Banda living is interesting, to say the least.  There's no air conditioning, and no fans to dispel the evening heat.  The warm evenings settle quite like a dry heated blanket, only there's no thermostat to adjust the temperature.  We leave our windows open at night, hoping to catch some of the nighttime breezes as they drift through the air (and praying, in turn, that the bugs stay outside).  I never sleep inside my sleeping bag, but lie with it against my side, as if to have a friend sharing the space.  To be fair, like anybody who has ever shared a space with someone, if it get's to be too warm I am quick to shove my "partner" as far away from me as possible, without shame or regret for my hasty motions.
   Sleeping beneath a chandalua (mosquito net) is a bit magical, as if I'm a princess sleeping beneath a canopy.  In fact, I bet Cinderella, Aurora, or any of the princesses with canopies used them for just the purpose of halting bugs from entering their sleeping space (because what kind of princess has any red bumps from bug bites?)
   What physical item do I miss most while living here? Cold beverages.  We have clean, filtered water all around the camp, which is a miracle in itself.  I do, however, long for the days of ice cold, Carolina sweet tea.  In fact, I implore my friends to drink a sweet tea for me, and host a small distance-wake with sweet tea (or cherry), french fries, and a tasty sandwich.  Not to say the food isn't fantastic here in Moyo Hill, because it is! I never go hungry, and (this is mainly an address to my mother) we always have Heines ketchup!  That sweet tomato paste always fixes any dish.
   I'm quite sold on maize and Tanzanian sweet pancakes.  Breakfast is always a treat.  The staff took the time to devise some homemade salad dressings, and they assured us that nowhere would we find thousand island dressing that was as nzuri as their's... and they were right!  We're always quick to complement the staff here, because their smiles and chorus of "asante sana" are a treat.
   One wonderful aspect of this trip - a characteristic that I had no notion of needing until after this week - is the solidarity, stability, and overall easy camaraderie that exists among the group.  There are no cliques or groups, and everyone is friendly.  I never feel that I cannot speak to someone.  And when someone is feeling down, or there's a weak animal among the herd, we're quick to act like a mother baboon is to aid its young.  It's a blessing to be among genuinely happy people, and I hope to bring this happy feeling back with me to Chapel Hill.

Mosquito Nets and A Chorus of “Picha!” (A First Night and Day After Account)

Upon arrival in Kilimanjaro airport of Tanzania, I went through the necessary visa applications, fingerprinting, and luggage collecting.  I was blessed in finding all of my luggage safe and sound, while many in my group had an unfortunate time finding that their luggage had not yet arrived.  I was directed outside, where I promptly had a try at my very first Kiswahili conversation with a local, our dereva (driver).  I must say my professor, Bwana Mutima, has all of my gratitude, for my words were correctly spoken, and polite.  The dereva was pleased, and smiling, and helped me follow along with words I was unfamiliar with.  I must admit, I too couldn’t keep the smile from my face.

My first step and breath outside was in Tanzania, and it was brilliant.  The sun was shining, the temperature is absolutely perfect, with a spectacular breeze and spots of clouds.  I always had considered Africa extremely hot, and here now in Arusha (or more specifically, Moyo Hill Camp) the weather is so perfect it alone would be a reason to live/vacation here. 

We drove 2.5 hrs to reach our camp.  My dad would be so thrilled to know I’m trucking it across the African soil in a hardcore, tough green land cruiser, complete with grilled lights, pop-off roof, and thick-treaded tires.  Our dereva never drove beneath 160km unless going through a town, as there were speed bumps.  Within only an hour in Tanzania we spotted giraffes, zebras, and a baboon.  We stopped in Karatu for a bit of shopping and money handling, then continued through Mto Wa Mbu (literally meaning “river of mosquitoes”) and Rhotia, our “local” town. 

Night came only too soon, and blissfully so, for after 48 hours of traveling I was quite ready to sleep.  I’m still catching up on my sleep schedule.

The night was filled with hyenas yipping, dogs barking, and a lone cricket in our hut that refused to quit chirping between 4:30 and 6am.  If you know me personally, you know that this terrified me to no end that there was a cricket in my room.  And I can absolutely say with certainty that everything in Africa is indeed bigger, including crickets.

I slept well beneath a canopy of mosquito netting, or chandalua. 

My morning began at 6am, with a walk around the compound.  It was wonderful, just a bit of a crisp chill, and I met many locals along the way.  Children on their way to school ran directly towards me, smiling and waving, some shouting “picha!” and wanting me to take their photograph.  They were giggling upon seeing their faces on the camera’s screen.  I met this same group later that day walking back from town, and it was here that I had my second conversation with a mtoto msichana, a small girl of 6yrs that I had taken a picture of earlier that morning.  She gladly told me about her day at school, and then asked if I had a pencil (una penseli?) that she might have.  I did not, but her bright smile did not diminish, and she told me that she had to walk home with her brother, and that she hoped to see me tomorrow.  I hope to see her, and her friends, again too.