I’ve been sanctioned…

After I left Malawi (see below) I was on the road to Victoria Falls, the seventh wonder of the natural world.  The falls can be seen from either Zambia or Zimbabwe, and because of my geographical location in Malawi, I decided to go through Zimbabwe.  Foreign Policy magazine recently ranked Zimbabwe as the second worst failed state in the world (after only Somalia).  I was prepared for poor infrastructure, poverty and general chaos upon arriving in the capital city of two million people, Harare.  When I got off the bus, however, I was amazed at the modernity of this “failed state.”  Tall buildings, parks, fast food restaurants and busy, yet organized, traffic reminded me of a small city somewhere in the suburbs of the United States!  While there are great problems with the government (they now use the U.S. dollar as official currency because they lost control of their own) and I saw many instances of extreme poverty, this capital city gives a great first impression. Outside of the city there are some interesting sites and I chose to visit the balancing rocks in Epworth and the rock paintings in Domboshawa.

 

Bored with rocks I quickly departed the capital and traveled by bus and then train on to Victoria Falls, with the overnight train ride with personal sleeper (for only $7!) being my absolute favorite travel experience in the last two months.  The falls are impressive, as I suppose they should be if they are one of the wonders of the world.  I visited in the heart of dry season, however, and the flow was a little low, but still enough to get me pretty wet from the spray.  As usual, my amateur attempt at photographing this wonder leaves much to be desired!

Victorial Falls is known for its adventure sports.  Everything from rafting to bungee jumping to sky diving.  I was playing with the idea of doing something crazy when the money problem began.  The money problem being that the United States still has sanctions in place against Zimbabwe, including a clause that doesn’t allow money from US accounts to be withdrawn in the country.  That means this guy, who thought maybe it was a bad machine or miscommunication took his ATM problems lightly until he was left with only $14!  With the help of many friends and some luck hitch-hiking I made it to the border on only $9 and got to the nearest ATM in Botswana to finally get some cash.

After that I continued straight south to meet up with fellow DeWittian Matt”Regular” Dean in Gaborone, Botswana to relax for a few days.  We crashed a few birthday parties and snuck into the university pool, a great break from hectic travel and strangers.

This morning I took the bus to Johannesburg, South Africa, where I am waiting (10 hours) for my onward bus to Durban.  Joburg is a bustling city, the most developed I’ve seen in Africa (I had a real Big Mac for lunch!).  The best part is that there is still world cup paraphernalia all over the city.  It almost feels like its still happening!

Where is the Love?

This morning I was listening to the Black Eyed Peas song, asking where all the love in the world has gone.  I generally like to take a pessimistic view with musicians on this stand, but honestly, I’ve received much love recently.

Some days ago I arrived from Zanzibar to Moshi, in Tanzania to meet up with fellow Kohawk, Kim Hoff, who is student teaching there.  I kind of just showed up and suprised her, but she and her friends very very gracious and generous in hosting me.  Moshi is a nice little town sitting on the base of Africa’s highest peak, Mt. Kilimanjaro.  I was there for four days visiting the town, swimming in waterfalls on the slopes of the mountain, checking out the school and having a few Kohwak, Flunk Day Committee nights (if you aren’t a Kohawk you just won’t understand!)

I told Kim that my next stop was the Lake of Stars music festival in Malawi and she was so intrigued that she scrapped her own break plans of safari to join me (with her room mate’s brother, Andy).  For the next six days we journeyed from northern Tanzania to Southern Malawi on bus, car, Land Rover boat, truck and foot, while never paying for a place to sleep.

Day 1: Depart Moshi early in the morning and ride the bus for eight hours arriving in Dar Es Salaam.  Kim calls her friend amazing friend Megan who picks us up, takes us to her apartment to change and get ready to go out.  For the second Saturday night in a row I spend the entire night at a dance club and get on a bus as the sun was coming up.

Day 2: Try to sleep on the crowded, hot, broken-seated bus to Mbeya.  For above reasons, fail to sleep  I text my brother’s friend, Stephanie, and she insists that we divert and stay at her house for the night where she has dinner, beers and a cozy bed waiting for us!

Day 3: The decision is made to head south and chance a lake crossing rather than the longer, sure-bet overland route.  The morning starts with our travel staple, chips myai, a french-fry-omelet street food.  Take two short busses and get stuck en-route in a small town called Mbinga in the evening, frustratingly close to the lake we want to cross.  While asking for rides at the gas station, we are approached by an Indian man who advises us it isn’t safe to drive at night and insists we get in his car.  Kim is a little afraid, but I see the “Vincentian Fathers” logo on the door and reassure her.  Father Emmanuel takes us to his community’s house to feed us and give us a room.  In the morning he gives us breakfast, a ride into town and arranged transport for us.  We try to donate to his school, but he insists that he will only accept prayers.

Day 4:Bump along in an out-dated, uncomfortable, bumpy Land Rover for the morning on the rough, although very scenic road to Mbamba Bay, the port where we hope to find a ferry to Malawi.  We learn that the ferry has left hours before our arrival and our only hope is to hire a private boat for $800.  Defeated, we set up our tent on the beach next to the boat and continue to beg the owner, other boat owners  and immigration officers to get us to Malawi so we can make it to the festival.  In classic African style, nobody knows when the next boat will leave, what a fair price would be or is any big hurry to do anything.  We eat more chips myai, washed down with Kilimanjaro Lager and sleep on the beach.

Day 5: We learn that the boat is leaving this night!  Ecstatic, we walk out of town and find a beautiful deserted beach to swim and relax to kill the 14 hours before the boat leaves.  Mbamba is a nice little town (with no electricity) but there isn’t much to do.  We convince the boat owner that our (much reduced from $800) ticket price should include a beer at his bar.  One turns into many and we stumble onto the boat which departs at midnight.  It isn’t a comfortable ride (the fish smell from the hold doesn’t help) but it suffices as another free place to sleep.

Day 6: After arriving at Nkhata Bay, Malawi (finally!) we get excited and jump out of the boat before the boat is even tied up.  We are immediately stopped before leaving the dock: we need to wait for an hour for the immigration office to open.  Still a full day’s bus journey from the festival and being literally within sight of departing buses, this may be the longest hour of our journey, and we’re not stuck on a stationary boat.  We finally get through immigration, change money and catch a bus.  For the first time in a week we are cautiously confident that we’re going to make it to the opening act!  The bus stops about 100 miles from our destination at 3:00 p.m.  Not bad by normal standards, but in Africa this is still risky.  The first leg is an hour in a crowded mini bus which drops us at a fork in the road in the middle of nowhere.  We then jump into the back of a loaded truck with about 15 other people, sacks of corn flour and rice, boxes of fish and live chickens for our last leg.  The driver lies to us about the route and takes us about an hour out of the way, backtracking to pick up another box of fish.  I eventually get bored and am allowed to drive the truck for the last hour.  After dark, we finally arrive and set up camp, too tired to properly celebrate.

The festival was simply amazing, with musicians from accross Africa and Europe.  The days consisted of sleeping and relaxing by the pool, or playing life-size chess and we stayed up every night until dawn listening to amazing musicians and dancing with hoppin DJs.  They know how to party in Malawi!

The Swahili Coast

I’ve spent the last few days on the Indian Ocean on the coast of East Africa.  More specifically I visited Lamu (Kenya) and Zanzibar (Tanzania).  While I do love perfect white sand beaches, warm sun and boat rides, I’m digging the culture more.

The Swahili coast is the result of ancient trade routes between Africa, Arabia and India.  What resulted was a mixed people, Language and culture that is now known as Swahili.  These towns are filled with Blacks, Arabs, Indians, Christians, Muslims, Rastas and every sort of mixture of those identities possible.

The Swahilis also live in these paradise islands.  They were once strategic points for trade and agriculture, because of their ease of access, but today they are mostly geared for fishing and tourism.  The towns remain untouched and walking through the narrow passages in “Stone Town” one could easily think they are living in the 1700s!

And as with almost every African culture I’ve come into contact with, the people here are great.  Friendly, easy going people who are living a nice island paradise life.  While the Rastas do throw in the Jamaican “ya mon,”  most people’s tag-line is “Hakuna Matata”  (no problem, we’re free).

And my favorite part… FISH! I haven’t eaten good seafood for over a year in land-locked Rwanda, so needless to say, the fresh-catch seafood combined with the amazing Swahili spices has me in heaven.

This is the mighty “Zeitum” the dhow (Swahili sailboat) that I took a day tour for some fishing and beach relaxing.  I didn’t catch any fish, but the captain did and we had fresh caught barbequed fish on the beach.

Hand-carved doorframe from stonetown: Lamu

The seafood spread in Zanzibar.  A street buffet where you choose what you want from the vendor and he cooks it right there on his grill! (The Barracuda was excellent!)

 

Looking out my hotel in Stonetown, Zanzibar.  Small stone streets that aren’t big enough for cars (there aren’t any cars in Lamu anyway!) make for close quarters with every person, moped, donkey or camel that may be passing through!

A step into the past

I have spent the last few weeks traveling in the unique and beautiful country of Ethiopia.  Historically, Ethiopia differs from the rest of Africa with a rich ancient past and written language, including little influence from European colonialism.  It also differs with is choice of food and drink including delicious coffee and the grain, tef, lending itself to tasty creations found nowhere else.   Ethiopia is a remarkable place.

The first stop I made was with my friends Van and Chris to do some hiking in the Simien Mountain range.  This was my first true experience with backpack hiking/camping and, except for the rain, cold and hail, I enjoyed my time.

The landscape in the Simien resembles something of a mix between the astounding heights of the Rocky Mountains, breathtaking cliffs and drops of the Grand Canyon with a green covering resembling the Appalachians.  I took some photos of the landscapes, but most days it was too foggy for photography, and, as always, photos just diminish the spectacular sights.  We did, however, get to see some interesting wildlife, including the Gelda baboon and Walia ibex, which can only be seen in this place in the world.  On a couple occasions we just sat and watched the group of baboons playing around, stunning me at how close the mannerisms of these animals are to our own primate species (humans!).

In addition to the amazing views and wildlife we stopped in a village for a traditional coffee ceremony at local person’s home.  Ethiopia claims to be the country where coffee originated, and judging by how well they make it here, I can’t argue.  After declining three times we were served a plate of injera (the bread/pancake staple) with a sour milk/cottage cheese concoction and the traditional three cups of coffee in the traditional grass hut.

Our three days concluded with a spectacular panoramic view at Imet Gogo before the hike back to town.  We completed about 100 kilometers in a matter of four days without incident until the last 20 minutes where we sprinted to the first house we could find to avoid the pelting. bruising hailstorm!  The beauty and power of nature kept me in balance until the last minute!

After leaving the mountains and splitting ways with Chris and Van I continued North to check out some of Ethiopia’s spectacular history.  The oldest civilization to be recorded in Africa is the Yeha kingdom dating back to approximately the 4th Century B.C.  There isn’t a whole lot remaining from this time, but I saw the one wall from an old temple that remains, and some inscriptions and stone symbols paying tribute to the sun and moon, the object of Yeha’s religious loyalties.

 

After the fall of Yeha rule, the Axumite kingdom came to rise.  The city of Axum was the capital of this civilization, which was a powerhouse of the time, a regular acquaintance and partner of its European and Arabian counterparts.  Its most known for its ancient and imposing stelae, which pay tribute to the leaders of the kingdom.  The most impressive are over 30 meters tall and date back before the 4th Century A.D.!

 

One of these great stelea fell around the fourth century, which the kings took as a sign to convert to Christianity.  They then erected a magnificent Ethiopian Orthodox church dedicated to the Virgin Mary where (they claim) the Ark of the Covenant is housed.  Only one monk is allowed to see the actual ark, however, so its shrouded, quite literally, in mystery.

While the city of Axum was converting to Christianity, its influence spread and churches started springing up around the country.  The most remarkable, however, didn’t spring up, but rather were carved out!  Yes, the ancients decided that the best way to construct churches was to carve them directly out of stone, rather than erecting the stones.  They also, as I think is consistent with human-adventure-spirit, decided to put them in the most precarious places possible.  They are scattered across Northern Ethiopia, but my favorite by far was Abuna Yemata Guh, which required an hour hike and 15 minute climb to reach.  I’m terrified of climbing and heights, and this was no exception, but the reward was well worth the fear as I tight-rope walked a stone ledge over a 200 meter drop to cover the last steps to the door of the church.  This shot is from the front of the church looking down to the baptismal chamber.  Yes, people still haul their newborns up here!

 

The final stage of Ethiopia’s history that I explored was the reign of St. King Laliabela, around the 13th Century.  He’s most known for his miraculous construction (in some cases literally overnight with the help of Jesus or the saints!) of the 11 rock-hewn churches left behind in his capital.  Again, the amazing thing about these churches is that they are completely monolithic, meaning that they are entirely one piece, carved from rock.  Wandering through these mammoth structures, I too believe that there must have been some divine intervention in their construction.  The is Bet Giyorgis, dedicated to St. George.

And I’m finally back to present day Ethiopia, sitting here in Addis Ababa at the Salesian community, waiting for my plane tomorrow to fly me back to Kenya.  I have many great transportation, hotel, party and interaction stories that I can’t wait to share with my friends and family when I return home.  I need to save something to talk about!

I Saw…

I saw this video for the first time today, and its such a perfect song for me to say goodbye to Rwanda.  Yes, after one full year, tomorrow I get on a bus and leave the Land of a Thousand Hills.  And as the song portrays, I have seen, felt, learnt, appreciated and loved so much in the past year.  I’m struggling to pinpoint my feelings and emotions of this goodbye.  The last year of my life has been one of immense joy, happiness, sorrow, frustration and humility.  If you have talked to me recently, you know that I am indeed happy to leave, happy to open the next chapter.  At the same time, it is always difficult to say goodbye; difficult to know that you will never see a person who you have loved ever again.  This place, these people and the last year will hold a special place in my heart for the rest of my life.

I’ll save the rest of the sentiment for my journal.  Tomorrow   evening I get on a bus headed for Nairobi, where I will fly to meet a friend in Ethiopia, and then a friend in Tanzania, and hopefully I’ll continue to make friends and have new places to visit.  I have a backpack, a guidebook, a new pair of shoes and a terrible bout of wanderlust.  I hope Africa is as ready as I am.

Gatenga Olympics 2010

After both Chris and I received very generous donations and gifts from our friends and family at home, we decided that we needed a way to best use these things.  With the semester ending, I was brought back to the end of the school year at home to what was always my favorite day of the year – field day.

Chris and I spent an afternoon racking our brains and planning out games and events for our foyer boys.  Along with some friends at the center (and Chris’ brother, a first grade teacher) we organized a pretty fun day.  Maybe its because I have such fond memories of field day myself, but watching the boys enjoying themselves on our planned day will be one of my best memories of Rwanda.

We planned six events and had the boys split into six groups, but, as with everything here, we had to change the day, the time and   the number of events and teams.  So we were left with a soccer-juggling competition, basketball hot-shot, flag tag and Aerobe distance throw.  We also had a footrace and water balloon toss.

The boys had never seen an Aerobe before we handed it to them and asked them to compete with this foreign object.  While most didn’t really get the hang of it, the winners were throwing it past midfield on the soccer field.

This is our improvised flag tag game.  They are actually flag football belts, but they worked great for our improvised tag game.  Most contests ended with two boys dancing around each other in a circle going for the last flag on each others belt.Fidel is an actual FIFA referee, as well as a teacher here at our center.  He took his job of running the soccer juggle competition very seriously.  The winner juggled for 1 minute 36.45 seconds.  Exactly.When I was at Saber basketball camp in DeWitt in high school I never thought that the skills and games I was learning there would someday be useful in Africa, but I guess that’s how life works.  They caught on pretty quickly to the game and got very competitive.  I was the only one, however, to knock down the 15-point half-court shot.

The first annual Gatenga Banana Run was a huge success.  After we spent 15 minutes discussing the course, rules and procedures, we got under way.  Many still did not understand the “there and back” concept, and many more got tired and walked, but we had a couple good close finishes.

Put a Frisbee through the tire and win a piece of candy!

This was by far my favorite part of the day.  Again, after much explanation and discussion we got under way.  Having never seen or touched a water balloon makes it very difficult to throw and catch, but hilarious to watch!

THE BEN AND MEDDY ON THE RUN!!!

For all my vigilant, law-abiding friends on the other side of the Atlantic, I am sending you a plea on behalf of all Rwandans.  Deliever The Ben and Meddy back to us!

The solo-artist pop stars, who are the craze and all the rage in Rwanda recently went on a government-sponsored trip to Washington and mysteriously disappeared.  Rumors are circulated the two duo are trying to secure an international record deal and were searching in Boston before escaping to Canada.  Just to be safe, if they are still in the US, I need your help.

If you see either of these two uniform-looking men singing a song sounding something like “A karam ata” or something similar, please notify your local law enforcement agency.  They have likely not changed their appearance, as every Rwandan man has the same hair and dress style.  Furthermore, they can likely be heard saying some Kinyarwanda-English slang words awkwardly in public, such  as “Fresh” (pronounced Fresh-EE), “Power” (pronounced POW-A) and “V.I.P.” (prnounced Vee-Pee).

I have fond memories of both of these men, as I have sang along and danced at many events where they have performed.  I just know Rwanda won’t be the same without them.  Please, help us.

Article from the New Times:

http://newtimes.co.rw/index.php?issue=14341&article=32059