Friday, November 28, 2008

More Photos while the Connection's Good!






The group shot is me with some of the young women currently participating in our Girl-Mothers project. The others are random pictures of friends and neighbours.

Homeward Pull

Even without checking the calendar I am beginning to feel the pull for 'home'. My only pair of shoes, my flip-flops, are at that point where there's far more flop than flip going on (please make it 2 more weeks...please!!) I can tell from the reflection in my laptop screen that I'm due for a haircut, never having been totally comfortable with the spiky punk look. The pups are becoming too attached...it's time to let them come to see Johana as their alpha provider, not this mzungu who is just passing through.

Money's running thin. Time is running out on the gazillion to-dos, to-visits, to-remembers. I am oh so satisfied with the progress I've seen in the projects...I know it's time to get back to Canada and focus on making money so the team here can keep going forward by leaps and bounds. I want to go home so I can start planning for coming back, crazy as that sounds. I'm telling everyone that they'll likely see me back here for May, June and July...for African winter, when my energy doubles with the cooler temperatures...when I can comfortably dress in jeans and T-shirts without fear of melting in the noon day heat.

I have gotten so much out of this trip on a personal level. Time to reflect and ponder from our mountain retreat has been incredible. So much sorted out, learned, discovered and re-discovered. I will be coming home braver, bolder, bedraggled, besotted, bouncier, blessed....BETTER!

And now, back to it, with the remaining time.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

The Amazing Shrinking Woman

Probably good that I don't have access to a weight scale. I only know that my pants are falling down on a regular basis, so I'm limited to the couple with drawstrings. My ankles must be smaller because my anklet chains keep falling off too. I think I had breasts when I left Ottawa...now where did I leave the darned things?? They certainly seem to have disappeared. Perhaps that's why the old gals look so sympathetic when I walk past them. Traditional Maasai believe that breast size is a direct indicator of the amount of, shall we say, "nookie" one is indulging in. Clearly they know that I'm downright deprived! (Heaven only knows what they think of some of the buxom young volunteers floating around the village these days!!)

My tan lines are probably pretty hilarious too, though I can't be sure as I haven't seen myself in a proper mirror in weeks. My hands and forearms are dark brown (by my standards anyhow)...my feet, well, maybe it's just dirt, but no, the flip flop tan lines are pretty obvious...I expect my face is brown too, since I never use sunscreen. The contrast to my pasty white legs has to be striking.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

I'll Huff and I'll Puff....

Yes indeed...the story of the three little pigs keeps filling my half-dreams. The wind on the mountain seems to grow stronger and blow longer every evening. I lie in my bed, dozing, then awakening when the sides of the tent billow in and poke me. I think of that story of childhood, and wonder what the odds are that my house of canvas will hold up better than the ill-fated houses of straw and sticks. Last night was the worst (so far). I was convinced they'd find me this morning, hidden under my bed, with the roof trusses caved in on top of the tent, and me.

It's reminiscent of being in a boat on a rough sea. The canvas noises are of course just like those of full sails. The wood frames creak like ancient masts, the guywires whine and squawk as the gusts come through. The wind even found her way under the tent last night, and at one point I swear my bed was making little jumps. There weren't a whole lot of options to consider, either. I could have slept in the latrine I suppose, but trust me...no. Or I could have shared the kitchen building with Johana and the dogs and the various creepy crawlies that like to go in there at night, but again...no. Instead I went to the front porch, smoked cigarettes while staring at the most gorgeous starscape...amazing that while we were being battered and blown about, those stars didn't move the tiniest bit. It was a calming influence, and eventually, exhausted, I managed to brave the return to my jumpy bed and a few hours of sleep. They tell me it will get better....by February!!!

Friday, November 21, 2008

Mayai....Oh My

I definitely need to sign up for kiswahili classes before my next visit. My inability to teach myself is made clearer by the day, and this morning's mixup was almost too sad to be funny.

Early this morning I noticed a woman coming along the ridge to camp, and eventually recognized her as my Koko (grandmother) from the village. Seemed odd that this old gal would be making the trek up to see me, but hey, lots of things seem odd so I was only curious as I went to give her my greetings and a welcome. She was toting a rather large bag, and luckily Johanna was home to translate. Apparently, the bag contained the objects I had asked her for recently. Now...understand that I had zero recollection of asking Koko for anything, so I was somewhat mystified. Things didn't come any clearer when she pulled out two beautifully beaded ostrich eggs. I may forget minor things on a regular basis (let's chalk that up to menopause, shall we?) but c'mon....I would not have forgotten asking someone to make me a couple of fancy ostrich eggs!! She insisted I'd asked, and reminded me that it was about a week ago as we were walking around the village with the troupe of Canadian visitors. They had taken a picture of her beside me, surely I remembered??? That part I DID remember, and then the light bulb came on. In the course of that meeting I had told Koko that sometime soon I would come and buy some eggs from her. During my earlier visit, her family had been my primary source of chicken eggs. Somehow it seems, while I was overconfidently talking about mayai (that's said my-eye) I hadn't thought to qualify with the 'chicken' part, even though I actually know that word in kiswahili too (it's kuku). And, hey, who wouldn't jump to the conclusion that there was an ostrich involved in the request??...easy mistake!!

Long story short...she wanted $10 per egg. Everyone agreed that was nutso extravagant for something I didn't want in the first place, but I felt so bad about the confusion and her trek to the camp, that I offered to take just one, for $5, and she was overjoyed that we'd come to that sort of compromise.

All's well that end's well. Somebody is getting a beaded ostrich egg for Christmas....maybe the person who emails me the funniest story about why THEY deserve to be the recipient!

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Best Laid Plans


Let's just call this "the day the kitchen shelter fell down" and not go into a whole lot of detail. Nobody was hurt. Some lessons are harder to learn than others.

One Month In

(wrote this November 15th...I suppose that says something about the number of communication issues I've been having as of late...oh well...)

I celebrated this anniversary of sorts by redecorating my tent...well, in reality, by shifting the positions of my 2 beds and 2 tables, but hey, it's a huge difference in floor space and Johana agrees it looks a whole lot better than before! Then I gave the kitchen a thorough cleaning, and found my first scorpion in the process. Luckily it was just a wee one (even the full grown ones here aren't deadly...though they can give you a nasty sting that leads to a painful day of dealing with swelling and such). Going to have to be more careful about daily sweepings under all the boxes that are in the kitchen to prevent a recurrence of that sort of visitor.

I'm food obsessed today. Maybe that's a one-month thing, or maybe it comes of the fact that in the past few days I've noticed that my pants are starting to fall down if I don't wear a belt. We're eating a lot of pasta up here, so it's not that I'm not taking in enough calories....probably the weight loss is mostly due to the necessary hikes up and down the mountainside, in flipflops no less. Anyhow, I want a chicken breast – a real one, meaty, juicy, in some sort of sauce that isn't based on tomatoes. I want a warm, crusty roll with butter melting on it and some really good cheese. A small steak would be a nice change from the fresh fire roasted goat meat that the warriors carve up for us at every celebratory event (though I must say I still love the roasted goat liver, when I can manage to get some of that. It's typically reserved for folks far more important than I.) Ooooh, and a monster-sized bowl of fresh green salad. Sigh. I hate knowing in advance what I'll be dreaming about tonight...probably will end up gnawing on my pillow like that fellow in the McDonalds TV commercial.

I've decided that it's time to get beyond the 'vacation' stage, and buckle down to some actual work at LOOCIP for month two. No shortage of tasks I can pitch in on, I'm sure.

Thank you to everyone who has responded to my appeal for donations to the Girl-Mother program. I have great news!! Last week my kaka (brother) Ngeresa came back from his third Parliamentary committee appearance with the mind-boggling news that effective immediately, all girls who are involved in our program will be allowed to return to government school after their babies are born! It's going to take some time to get the law changed (sounds like a 3 to 4 year process here), but we've broken down the door, and getting this special permission for the girls we're aware of, is a huge step...one that clearly sets a precedent and spells out the government's intention to follow through with the necessary changes. Needless to say, Ngeresa is now, more than ever, officially my hero!!! And now, with awareness of this spreading in nearby communities, I expect we'll start to see the girls come in to the project in far greater numbers than before.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

November 11th

Strange night. It's darker inside my tent than out. There'd be great moonshadows if not for the fact that it's such a blustery evening. I've been feeling, dare I say, a little under the weather today...likely a phrase to be taken literally. We had another gusty downpour last night and the tarp we'd rigged to try and keep the back of my tent a little drier only worked to reduce the morning puddles a little. It was a tough night for sleeping. These big tents puff in and out with the winds, flaps flap, metallic clips tinkle, and the rain, well it drips or pelts or whatever it happens to feel like doing. I told myself I was at the seaside, and eventually fell asleep.


Stuck around camp today and hauled bricks and logs to reinforce the bottom of my tarp barricade...so far it's working. We had two intense, but relatively quick, downpours today, and so far the floor is still perfectly dry. Progress!! Tomorrow we have visitors coming in from Canada, so there's been a flurry of last minute improvements. In a twisted sort of way, it felt like being on one of those ever-present home decorating shows...the sort where everything is supposed to get accomplished in 24 hours. Amid the downpours we had someone painting our kitchens, another trying to finish off the dining shelter, and lots of general tent and site maintenance in between. Another sprint tomorrow morning, and we should be looking good and ready to welcome our visitors.


It's the time of the hilarious red bugs. These little critters are all over the ground since the rains started. They are absolutely the most amazing red...cartoon red...brilliant almost florescent red...they look like they're lit from within-- Tiny, harmless, and every time I see a bunch of them I feel like laughing. And I'm not sure if it's them, but in the moonlight, the ground is covered by tiny glowing lights...like grounded fireflies, or fallen little stars.


I've turned a corner here at the camp, since the night of the big storm. I've had a few solo nights and have truly come to enjoy them. I suppose part of me figures...what could be worse than what we've been through? And while I probably shouldn't tempt the fates to show me that answer, I've really gone past a whole level of unfounded fears, and am light years more comfortable now. Maybe I've got a little of my grandpa's 'hermit' nature going on...I was actually a bit resentful (only a bit...it's actually wonderful to have us all back together) when everyone came back to camp yesterday, after having the place to myself for a few days!

Sunday, November 09, 2008

Misc Photos



Stormy Weather

Let me begin the story of a few nights ago, by saying that right now I am safe and well, the sun is shining, my tent is providing cozy shade, and the world is a lot greener than it was yesterday. I want to give you that happy ending in advance of telling my adventure story, since I do hate to worry those of you back home.

The long awaited rain arrived yesterday afternoon. Some of our surrounding sub-villages had reached the point of desperation and had gone to give goats to the 'witchdoctor' in the hopes of moving things along. Perhaps that had some influence. It was no ordinary rain. People are saying that yesterday will become part of local history, as there has never been such a furious rain storm here.

I like to think that Lordidi, the 13 year old Maasai boy who was with us throughout the adventure, will someday tell his grandchildren about that day. The day of the storm. For him, the first time he ever slept, at least part of the night, in a 'real' house, in the company of 4 wazungu to boot! He will tell them about the endless rounds of lightning and thunder. He will tell them how we were all driving in the village in the trusty ancient Land Cruiser when suddenly the sand road we were on turned into a raging river. How we slid from the road and ended up mired with the vehicle on a 45 degree angle. How the water was swirling right up to the windows on his side. How we called for help (thank goodness for cell phones) and despite mighty efforts by all who came out to assist, couldn't get the vehicle out, even after the river subsided and once again the road became a road. How Corey, trying to scope out our situation in the pelting rain and darkness, illuminated only by a headlamp and lightning, managed to save a young boy who was desperate to get home, even though that meant crossing the waters that had filled the gully on his road home, and would have swept the wee fellow away. How hours later, we ended up at the LOOCIP guest house (where I lived last year) and managed to round up blankets and sheets and settle ourselves in for a reasonable rest of the night's fitful sleep. How this morning we learned of how many goats had died at the nearby bomas, either from drowning or simply from exposure to the night-long driving rain. How someone carried a dead bushbuck down from the hillside. How a tractor finally managed to pull our vehicle free from the mud. How, when we returned to camp mid-morning, Jotu's tent floor was covered in mud and water (thank goodness I'd detected a bit of leakage earlier in the evening, and had moved all the gear that usually lives under my beds to higher and drier locations).

His grandchildren will listen with wide eyes.

Thursday, November 06, 2008

Hot Time...Summer in the City

(wrote this Tuesday...posting on Thursday...let's just say I've missed the boat on a few internet connection possibilities...finally back on line, back in the village)

Came to Arusha this morning. I was getting a little bummed out up on the mountain, and was advised by many to get myself out and about for a few days of R&R far removed from the loneliness of my perch. Interesting trip, as usual. The Peugeot's are designed to carry a driver and seven passengers. Today's driver saw nothing wrong with putting two extra people on board, so I shared a single seat for one hour with a young Maasai fellow. Quite the sensation...one hour propped up on one buttock, one arm cradling my computer laden backpack, the other arm draped around the shoulders of this young fellow I'd never met...him pressed into my chest, nicely tucked under my arm (he fell asleep midway and I suppose we'd have been quite a picture for someone looking in...this young fellow cuddled up by sheer necessity, head bobbing, my arm protectively around him).

Stepped into my favorite Naaz hotel...modest but safe and clean...and almost wiped out on the tile floors. The soles of my flipflops were totally encrusted with the thorny burrs I collect by walking around camp. On the sand they sort of work like studded car tires, giving me a bit of extra traction on the hills. On tile though, it felt like I was wearing ice skates. So, spent an hour picking them out of my only shoes.

How to describe the joy of a hot shower, with more than enough water for a full shampoo and careful rinse and even a detailed foot scrubbing? Bliss! Then I grabbed a terrific Indian buffet lunch downstairs, met up with an old friend from last year, and found myself an ATM that was compatible with my bank card. Back in my room now, watching TV news of the US Election and munching on Malaysian knock-off Prigle-y sort of chips. The novelty of this city time will undoubtedly wear off quite quickly, but I intend to make the most of the next two days or so.