As many of you know, I spent five weeks back in 2006 doing service work in Tanzania with Africa Inland Missions for the summer after graduating college. During my time there, I spent all but a few days in Arusha staying with a host family and helping to dig the foundation for a new church. On the weekends I worked with Compassion International's bible school program. I was so fortunate to have built rewarding relationships with my host family and other members of the local church body, so going back to Tanzania during our world tour was a 'must' for me. I was thrilled have the opportunity to reconnect with my African family, the Baleles, and to see the finished church that I had played a small but important role in building. What I didn't anticipate was that I would gain a whole new perspective on the country now that I had the time to travel to more regions and experience more characteristics of it. By the end of our three week stay, we had enjoyed four distinct areas of the beautiful country and I have fallen even more deeply in love with the country and the people that dwell there.
We arrived mid-morning into Dar es Salaam, and by the evening we had taxied to the ferry terminal and taken a ferry to Stonetown, Zanzibar--a Tanzanian island off the coast of the mainland. Stonetown is a quaint little port city that offers a unique variety of 19th century Arab, Persian, Indian and European architecture due to its historical in the spice and slave trade. We spent the afternoon exploring street after narrow, cobblestone street of adorable shops and restaurants and stumbled upon an evening food market in a park along the water just in time to sample a smorgasbord of local dishes for dinner. Since the island is about 99% Islamic, the cuisine was a deliciously unique blend of Tanzanian and Middle Eastern.
The next morning we found our way to the local dala dala station and boarded their public transportation for a two hour ride to the northern beach called Nungwi. Imagine a truck bed with a cover over the top and two wooden benches lining each side of the truck. The benches together should hold 14-16 people, but for this wild ride, we averaged more than 30 commuters packed into the truck at any given time. People were sitting on the floor, on strangers' laps, hanging off the back bumper, packed in the front cab and sitting on the rooftop along with bikes, bags, and sacks of produce. It certainly wasn't the most comfortable ride we could have taken, but it made up points for efficiency, economy and entertainment value!
The dala dala ran along dirt roads lined with shanty homes, tropical forests and farmland, and ran into a rough looking village at the tip of the island. We were a bit surprised by the poor state of the village considering this was one of the top beach locations on the entire island...if not in the whole of Africa! We tentatively began to wander through the rutted dirt streets towards the shoreline while locals eyed us Mizungus (white people) with equal parts suspicion and amusement. We crossed from dirt onto sand after a few hundred meters and discovered the hidden oasis that everyone had been raving about. Beautiful resorts, hotels and restaurants lined the sugar sand beach for miles in each direction. Hundreds of tourists lounged along the edge of the most vibrant turquoise blue water I have ever seen and local Masai tribesmen in their authentic garb strolled amongst them selling handmade artwork and jewelry. Although we have visited numerous tropical beach locations over the years, and each were stunning in their own right, something about Zanzibar made it more special...more exotic. We were elated that we would be spending the next five days relaxing in this paradise!
We longed to book a room at the luxurious Hotel Zed and enjoy gourmet dining, spa treatments and cocktails by the pool--but we pinched ourselves and remembered that we were still on a backpacker's budget. We also wanted to put money towards scuba diving while we were there, so we started to look for the cheapest lodging on the beach. After searching for about an hour, we found a small, independent guesthouse just off the beach for $30 per night. It was certainly no Hotel Zed, but we figured it would do since we were just sleeping there. The bed looked clean and had fresh flowers on the pillows to add a nice, pretty touch. It wasn't until we crawled under the mosquito net to get a good night sleep that we realized the pretty, fresh flowers had attracted an entire colony of ants that were trailing from the wall, across the bed and onto our pillows. At this point, we took all the sheets off the bed and shook them out until we could not find a single ant on them. Although gross, we were convinced that we had solved the problem. Now, since we were off the beach, we didn't get even the slightest breeze through the windows, so it was really, freaking hot in the room. No worries...we have a ceiling fan! We fell asleep with earplugs in to block out the deafening rattle made by the unbalanced fan as it whirled around at max speed. It wasn't until the following morning when we woke up covered by dirt and cement that we realized the ceiling was literally crumbling onto our heads from the motion of the fan.
Sadly, we had to stay another night because we had already paid for two nights. Even more painful...we found a squeeky clean place that was right on the beach, ocean breeze blowing through the windows, breakfast included for just $5 more per night. That, my friends, is the definition of penny wise and pound foolish! At least we got to enjoy a few nights sans ants!
After nearly a week of lounging oceanside, it was time to make our way to Arusha. We ended up taking a slower, overnight ferry off the island and enjoyed a restless night of sleep in communal room filled with a variety of chairs that were super awkward to sleep on. Since our decision to catch the overnight ferry was spur of the moment, we had missed dinner and decided to treat ourselves to a nice, big buffet breakfast upon our arrival back to Dar Es Salaam before catching at comfortable tourist bus for the 8 hour journey to Arusha. The breakfast was fantastic, but once we arrived at the bus station, we discovered just how big of a mistake we had made. Blair wrote up an account of this experience while we bounced along on a much slower and much more uncomfortable local bus:
I am in the bus riding to Arusha, Tanzania from Dar Es Salaam. Lindsey and I have been in the bus for about 6 hours and have another 8 to go...yeah!? Bananas, right? Anyway, it was only a $30 ride for the both of us. We are kicking ourselves for not going faster from the Zanzibar night boat to the bus station so that we could catch the nicer bus with air conditioning--instead we decided to have breakfast and kind of loaf around for a bit. We got to the bus station, a dusty lot filled with an array of buses ranging from somewhat rundown to barely limping along, and felt like chum to the hungry touters that ushered us in. It was instant chaos as we were shouted at from every direction to choose which bus we would take. Stupidly, we were expecting a ticket office where we could pick and choose from the best options explained in English by a helpful attendant and be on our way without a near nervous breakdown. Not the case. Eventually, we chose a bus only to escape the onslaught of people in our faces--we chose wrong. Lindsey and I are not the best at maintaining an even keel in pressure situations like this one, so needless to say there was a 'marital squabble'. Good thing we have such a long bus ride to mend singe-ed nerves. Should be any hour now when Lindsey will be ok. The bus ride itself isn't so bad?!? There's no AC, but the breeze from the window is somewhat cool until about 2pm when it becomes unbearably hot and we are marinating in the scent of a bus full of baking humans. We are growing accustom to the smell of B.O. by now, but this has reached a whole new, toxic level. Despite the hundreds of speed bumps, the roads are smooth and it seems like we are going pretty fast. Kinda inspires wetting your pants when the bus pulls into oncoming traffic to pass the slower cars and lories on the road, just barely avoiding a head on collision as they whip back into the correct lane. Oh, and we get to watch this really bad soap opera where there is a lot of yelling, pointing, crying and face slapping. Great TV! Besides looking around, and watching the riveting entertainment, I finished an audiobook and now I'm writing a shitty blog post. Man, I must be desperate for entertainment options. The scenery we pass over the hours is striking and distinctly African. There are pockets of adobe houses with people busy at work, vast plains with waving green grasses and trees dotted sparingly across the landscape. There are beautiful mountains that rise like islands from the sea of green lapping at their feet. I keep expecting to see a wild animal along the way, but nothing more than cows, goats and chickens so far--we have plenty more hours to go, though, so there is still hope!
We eventually did make it to Arusha...just four hours later than we should have. We crashed as close to the bus station as possible, and the next morning we made our way to the Njiro neighborhood. We would be staying with the Africa Inland Church pastor and his family for a few days to spend time with the Baleles, visit with the church community and to attend Sunday service at the church. When I left Arusha years ago, I made a vow to myself that I would return one day to see the finished product of our labor, to reconnect with my African church family and to introduce my future husband to a culture, a family and an experience that was a game changer for me--a period of time before he came along that helped to shape me into the person that I am today. It's hard for me to express the kind of joy that I felt as Blair and I received such an outpouring of love from Grace and Michael Balele, as well as the rest of the church community upon our return nine years later. It's impossible to explain just how blessed I felt as Blair and I spent the weekend playing with 9 year old, Chris (who was 1 when I was staying with Baleles) and his 7-year-old brother, Joshua. They are such cool kids!! Then, on Sunday morning, we had the opportunity to worship in the church I had helped to build along with a passionate group of believers. It was then that I truly understood what all that work was for. We were invited to speak in front of the congregation to tell our story and show are gratitude for their hospitality. We were also fortunate to be there in celebrating Chris' baptism! The people of AIC, both the ones I knew from 2006 and new friends, showed such an immense outpouring of love to Blair and me, acting as great examples of what it means to love like Christ did. What an awesome reunion!
We left Arusha a few days later with our hearts full and our spirits high. From Arusha we headed to Karatu in order to spend a couple of days on safari. Upon arrival, we made our way to St. Catherine's Benedictine Catholic Monastery set in the rolling hills along a long dirt road just outside the Ngorongoro Crater National Park. What a hidden gem! So hidden, that the first night, we were the only guests there! We stayed in their simple, clean guest rooms and enjoyed the beautiful gardens and farmland that acted as a perfectly peaceful oasis for relaxation and rest. On top of that, all meals were included and were portions fit to feed a family of six! For a small fraction of the price it costs to stay in the safari lodges in the area, we got to enjoy the beautiful setting and delicious 4-star meals. We arranged for a guided safari through the monastery as well, and the next morning we headed to Lake Manyara for a day of hunting down baboons, elephants, giraffe, flamingos and zebra.
We had such a successful day in spotting animals in Lake Manyara and were eager to do another day of safari at Ngorongoro Crater, but with all the fees and expenses, we didn't think we were going to be able to swing it on our budget unless we found another couple to split the cost with. We rolled back into the monastery just in time for dinner and found there to be a family of Italians staying there for the night, as well as a Dutch couple that were around our parents' age. It only took a few minutes of chit chat to learn that the Dutch couple hoped to book a trip through the monastery to Ngorongoro Crater for the following morning. I shamelessly offered to join their trip and split the costs, making it more affordable for everyone involved. Did I mention they were Dutch? I knew they wouldn't turn me down--we know a deal when we see one!
So, the four of us joined one awesome guide and explored Ngorongoro Crater from top to bottom, front to back and side to side the following day. We left no rock unturned and no corner unvisited--and we were rewarded in a big way!! We saw almost every animal that dwells in the crater and departed just as the sun was dipping below the horizon in front of us. Glancing down the road behind us, we watched as clouds rolled silently in over the lip of the crater and let loose a wall of water that marched gracefully across the open savannah.
We had a couple more days to enjoy the monastery once we were finished with our safari and took advantage of the tranquility to read, work on the blog and explore the property. We were given a tour of the primary school at the foot of the hill and the new (massive) sanctuary that was being built solely for the 10 nuns that dwelt in the monastery. We even attended the evening prayer service with the sisters one night!
Forrest Haskins, the Africa Inland missionary that coordinated my mission team back in 2006, picked us up from Karatu to take us on our fourth and final Tanzanian adventure. Forrest and his wife, Purity, were gracious enough to welcome us into their home amongst the Datooga tribe for nearly a week. They have been immersed in this African bush tribe for about 7 years and we were ecstatic to be able to experience such an untouched, remote culture during our visit to Tanzania. I'm not exaggerating when I say that this was, hands down, the best and most memorable travel experience I have ever had. The trip from Karatu took about two hours down rutted and washed out dirt roads that gave way to not much more than a two-track towards the end. At multiple points Forrest had to take his 4x4 off road to avoid new three-foot deep crevices that had developed since his last journey a week prior. At one point, we all got out of the car to build a makeshift ramp with loose boulders for each wheel so we could get out of a crevice without bottoming out the truck.
The Haskins live in a welcoming home in the middle of the Datooga community, which is very spread out in the Mohedegew region between the mountains and Lake Eyasi. As we rolled up to the property, Forrest and Purity's two adorable kids, Riley and Crystal, ran to meet us and we were greeted by a handful of the Datooga people who had come to visit with Purity. It was such a blessing to be so quickly and eagerly welcomed into their home, and their hospitality continued to be such an overwhelming blessing throughout our entire stay. Each day was a new and exciting experience with lots of "firsts".
One day we took at safari (walking journey) to a neighboring family complex and visited with the father and sons outside their home made from branches and dried mud. We had come to buy a goat from them in preparation for upcoming meals. Blair was brought out to the herd and directed to chase down the doomed animal. Once he had it by the legs he threw it around his shoulders and hauled it back to the house.
WARNING: GRAPHIC PHOTOS AND STORIES TO FOLLOW
The next morning we woke early so Blair could slaughter the fattened goat. The whole experience was pretty traumatic for this newbie...the 5 and 7 year olds didn't seem to be phased by the experience, so I was feeling like a pretty big whimp when I was on the verge of throwing up! Once the goat was killed and skinned, Purity made some stew with the meat and Fondi, one of the Datooga teenagers, roasted the legs over an open fire for dinner.
A few of the days were spent working around the property. I helped with cleaning, cooking and school as much as I could; and Blair washed out the water tank and repaired a living fence of thorn bushes with Fondi to keeping hyenas and lions away from the property where the kids played. We were so happy to contribute where we could out of gratitude for the wonderful experience we were having!
I expected the goat sacrifice to be the only shedding of blood that we would experience during our stay in Mohedagew, but an unexpected death of a neighbor's cow made for an impromptu community gathering. We headed over to his family complex and watched as the women of the family skinned the massive animal carefully so the hide could be used for bedding and divided the meat between various families so nothing would go to waste. It was pretty amusing to watch the women do all the manual labor as the men lounged in the shade of a tree waiting for the feast to be prepared. While the ladies disemboweled The cow, they opened the stomach and scooped out the partially digested grasses. I nearly lost my lunch as I watched one woman squeeze all the juices out of a chunk of the mush into one hand and drink it...she proceeded to repeat this technique over and over again. Then, as if it couldn't get any worse, they collected all these juices in a bucket and then cut up various raw organs and marinated it in the stomach juice...and ate it. Apparently, this is a delicacy for them. We were offered the delicious treat, but politely passed for fear of mad cow disease or some other crazy illness.
On Sunday we walked 20 yards from the front door to attend the church service with some of the Datooga people that have been converted from their witch doctor tribal beliefs to Christ-followers. The service was translated from Swahili into the local Datooga language, and then into English, so every step took awhile, but it was such a unique experience hearing these young believers' prayer requests and one man's testimony of being shunned by his community for his new faith.
The Datooga land is a barren land plagued with seasonal droughts and flooding, a landscape of sand and vicious thorn bushes, deadly snakes and scorpions and a constant threat of leopards and lions. Survival exists through community and the reliance upon your neighbors during difficult and dangerous times. The gentleman who gave his testimony had been ostracized by his community for his new faith and had been cast out of his village to fend for himself. He spent day after day wandering through the bush and night after night fearing for his life as he slept without protection from wild animals. He was near death, but refused to renounce his faith in Jesus. He literally crawled into the distant village that he was journeying to and was brought back from the brink by a congregation of new believers that was established there. He was now studying to become a pastor so he could continue to spread the word through the Datooga people.
Another woman was being called in front of the community council of women because they did not approve of her new faith. She was being forced to join a group heading up to the mountains to consult the witch doctor as a test of her commitment to her community. She did not want to go, but her daughter's wedding was coming up soon and the group was threatening not to attend the wedding. In the Datooga community, this is one of the harshest insults that can be offered because a marriage will only be acknowledged by the attendance of the community. After much prayer and counseling, her "moment of truth" when she would have to choose whether to defy her community or her faith was delayed because she could only be asked to make the journey if her husband was at home to approve and he was delayed on a journey from another village.
The challenges that these new believers were facing and the steadiness of their faith was so inspirational and so convicting. I was reminded just how easy that I have it at home with my freedom of religion--and just how lazy it can make me in the practice of my faith. It is in these stories that I am forced to question whether that freedom is a help or a hindrance to a healthy spiritual life.
As the service wrapped up, a group of ladies offered to perform a song for the congregation, which was a big step for them. Forrest was so excited, because this was the first time that they took initiative to prepare something for worship on their own--an indication of them taking ownership of their faith! They sang the song once and then repeated it while performing their traditional dance that is usually reserved for celebrations like weddings. The objective of the dance is to keep your hands at your side and leap as high as you can for as long as you can. One person makes eye contact across the circle and those two people come to the center of the circle to compete. Whoever stops first or doesn't jump as high loses--needless to say, Blair and I were pretty unbeatable at our heights!
On our last evening, we took a drive out to Lake Eyasi for a sunset hike and found the lake nearly dried up. The rainy season would bring the lake back to life, but for now, it made for a unique landscape to explore.
The next day, we took the long journey back overland to Kilimanjaro airport so we could catch a flight to Dar Es Salaam and then on to South Africa. We left Tanzania feeling overwhelmed by all the beautiful people and places we had come in contact with and fulfilled from our three weeks of widely different experiences.
