http://www.hrw.org/en/news/2010/10/25/aid-weapon
Well, duh. Certain governments using foreign aid as a bribe/leverage is nothing new. What interests me are the comments in this Human Rights Watch press release as to the stance of international donors towards operational factors that may stymie the flow of development in a real sense.
You cannot pretend you are giving people aid if you tacitly accept negative conditions in the recipient country that materially deny the most vulnerable people access to the aid. You cannot separate the protection of a person's rights from their ability to access resource/aid/development.
There is a world of difference between smiling pictures of African children on websites, glowing reports sent o'seas filled with statistics and what actually goes on on the ground ie who and how many people are reached. Speaking from personal experience? Who me?
Peace through the pieces.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Thriller
So Sunday October 31st is Halloween, obviously. But it is also Tanzanian Election Day. The culmination of months of campaigning, loud vehicles driving around with speakers and gold/green vs blue/red/white festooned punters and flags everywhere.
Tension between the two main parties is running high. Cases of violence between supporters of these parties have been reported in several places including Moshi (stronghold of the challenging party). A stabbing in one part of Tanzania, riot police using tear gas and pepper spray to restore calm during rallies in other areas.
We've been advised-sensibly-to keep low profiles on the Sunday. If there is to be any trouble it could happen during counting and tallying of votes around 6pm Sunday.
But Tanzania tends to be peaceful and all the past elections have been largely peaceful.
Of course what is really on my mind is how am I going to 'trick or treat' Sunday night if I am trying to avoid angry mobs? Surely they wouldn't attack a guy in a bed sheet ghost costume with a candy basket...
I just pray for a peaceful, fair election and lots of candy.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Gonna Fly Now
Wow, so guy in office seeking a bribe writes down the names of everyone in the office(including volunteers) without their knowledge so if he's ever caught he won't be the only one taking a fall...Muppet.
Anyway...
Hmm, yeah so I've kind of registered to do the Kilimanjaro Full Marathon. A gruelling 42km uphill course on the lower slopes of Kili. Let me explain. As you know, my wife is a marathon runner. She's done 3 already. I'm more of a sprinter than a long distance runner. Kind of like a cheetah. I find long distance running..well a bit boring/taxing. The longest running event I've ever done is the 'Round the Bays' Wellington 7 km fun run.
Anyway, the wife was super keen to do the marathon but it is hard for her to get the training in, especially if she is running alone. Moshi is a little bit less safe than Petone (marginally). So, I kinda got sick of her looking down that she was not going to be able to train for the event. Plus, for some reason I'm running more frequently in Africa (more stuff to look at on the runs perhaps) and my asthma (girly man) is doin' well. And then when I heard another NZ volly is going to do the marathon as well, that clinched it.
Plus, who doesn't want to pull out at some future dinner party 'Oh yes, and then of course I ran the Kilimanjaro marathon, darling..'
Its going to be a horrific run, uphill and getting steadily hotter as the day goes on. Did I mention I have not done any long distance running before?! Will start training in earnest to the Rocky theme song in November. Don't care what my time is, I'd just want to cross the line at some stage before nightfall. I have made the wife promise not to burn me off and make some effort to stay with me and coax me along...
Sob 42 kilometres. Yeah, I may just be dreaming/biting off more than I can chew. I got a bit freaked out when a mate who does a lot of running said you'd have to be insane to do a full marathon. But then my wife is run 3 and she seems to think with some training I can give it a good go...or maybe she's setting me up as payback for when I burned her off in 'Round the Bays' hm....
I just wanna go the distance...I figure if I can survive getting hit by a bus on my stag night while wearing a Batman suit, I'm unkillable.
(KCMC road on the marathon route, our new flat is just off this road. Snapped this last night after work)
'I'm not hurt at all. Didn't you know? They can only kill me with a golden bullet.'
Lawrence of Arabia
Anyway...
Hmm, yeah so I've kind of registered to do the Kilimanjaro Full Marathon. A gruelling 42km uphill course on the lower slopes of Kili. Let me explain. As you know, my wife is a marathon runner. She's done 3 already. I'm more of a sprinter than a long distance runner. Kind of like a cheetah. I find long distance running..well a bit boring/taxing. The longest running event I've ever done is the 'Round the Bays' Wellington 7 km fun run.
Anyway, the wife was super keen to do the marathon but it is hard for her to get the training in, especially if she is running alone. Moshi is a little bit less safe than Petone (marginally). So, I kinda got sick of her looking down that she was not going to be able to train for the event. Plus, for some reason I'm running more frequently in Africa (more stuff to look at on the runs perhaps) and my asthma (girly man) is doin' well. And then when I heard another NZ volly is going to do the marathon as well, that clinched it.
Plus, who doesn't want to pull out at some future dinner party 'Oh yes, and then of course I ran the Kilimanjaro marathon, darling..'
Its going to be a horrific run, uphill and getting steadily hotter as the day goes on. Did I mention I have not done any long distance running before?! Will start training in earnest to the Rocky theme song in November. Don't care what my time is, I'd just want to cross the line at some stage before nightfall. I have made the wife promise not to burn me off and make some effort to stay with me and coax me along...
Sob 42 kilometres. Yeah, I may just be dreaming/biting off more than I can chew. I got a bit freaked out when a mate who does a lot of running said you'd have to be insane to do a full marathon. But then my wife is run 3 and she seems to think with some training I can give it a good go...or maybe she's setting me up as payback for when I burned her off in 'Round the Bays' hm....
I just wanna go the distance...I figure if I can survive getting hit by a bus on my stag night while wearing a Batman suit, I'm unkillable.
(KCMC road on the marathon route, our new flat is just off this road. Snapped this last night after work)
'I'm not hurt at all. Didn't you know? They can only kill me with a golden bullet.'
Lawrence of Arabia
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Sweeps for my sweep (blog entry from mke)
Okay, so last Saturday night I stayed up and read while Manfred was out partying. I've read so many books here it's crazy. More in 7 months than I'd normally read in a year or two back home.
Anyhoo. I figured I'd have a sleep in on Sunday morning. Yeah… um, loud political rally going on at around midnight. (Who do they think turns up to those things at that crazy time of night?! Answer: Obviously quite a lot of people cos there was a bit of a racket.) So finally get to sleep and then around 5:40am some neighbour starts cranking up the really bad Christmas carols – the soppy-voice-bad-music type, then the Muslim call to prayer (which I think gives everyone else license to start being noisy) then loud knocking at our landlord's door for around 20 minutes (hey, maybe she's not home or asleep like I am...was!). And then… as per normal the swoosh-swoosh-swoosh noise. The noise which I cannot escape here. The noise I hear every morning no matter where I'm staying. It's the noise of … sweeping the dirt.
Why? You ask. Yeah, I'd sure as hell like to know too. I thought that if I lived here long enough I'd start to understand…
At first I thought it was to pick up all the leaves cos when it rains the curves of the leaves on the ground can make good breeding places for mosquitos. But there's not been any rain lately (in fact I saw someone watering the dirt to prevent it from blowing up dust) and I have seen people sweeping the dirt when there are no leaves around at all.
Then I thought that maybe it was like how you get those little Japanese gardens. But those gardens have raked gravel or sand and are very formal looking. A lot of the dirt I've seen swept here isn't really a part of a structured garden. It's the dirt near or on pavements or the dirt where you'd normally find a lawn back home.
The dirt is swept every day, usually in the very early hours of the morning, and when there's leaves around they get picked up and burnt. Composting doesn't happen here which is a bit of a shame but perhaps with the wide range of creatures here it's all just too dangerous (e.g. imaging getting a snake in a compost bin or a poisonous spider – eek). Maybe that's it? Could it prevent spiders and snakes turning up? Could a snake's tracks in the swept dirt alert you to their presence? But then the dirt gets swept on concrete and right in the city where there's no way a snake would hang out and I've not seen any squashed snakes on the roads in town. Australia has snakes and big spiders too but I haven't seen dirt sweeping there.
I'm also a bit confused at the tool which is used to do the sweeping. They're little brushes made out of reeds and they're short which means that people here have to bend over to sweep. It all looks a bit back breaking and time consuming to me. I have seen brooms here and other garden tools. So using those little brushes seems a bit like brushing your hair with a mascara wand.
Hmm, maybe I'm thinking a bit too much about this but it's really bugging me. Sure, I know that if a local here came to NZ they'd be weirded out by lots of stuff - the pre-cut pumpkin on a polystyrene tray covered in glad wrap, singly wrapped prunes, people who never take off-road vehicles off the road… Actually I find all that stuff weird too. But anyway, I shall make it my mission to get to the bottom of this dirty secret (pun intended) before I finish up here.
Anyhoo. I figured I'd have a sleep in on Sunday morning. Yeah… um, loud political rally going on at around midnight. (Who do they think turns up to those things at that crazy time of night?! Answer: Obviously quite a lot of people cos there was a bit of a racket.) So finally get to sleep and then around 5:40am some neighbour starts cranking up the really bad Christmas carols – the soppy-voice-bad-music type, then the Muslim call to prayer (which I think gives everyone else license to start being noisy) then loud knocking at our landlord's door for around 20 minutes (hey, maybe she's not home or asleep like I am...was!). And then… as per normal the swoosh-swoosh-swoosh noise. The noise which I cannot escape here. The noise I hear every morning no matter where I'm staying. It's the noise of … sweeping the dirt.
Why? You ask. Yeah, I'd sure as hell like to know too. I thought that if I lived here long enough I'd start to understand…
At first I thought it was to pick up all the leaves cos when it rains the curves of the leaves on the ground can make good breeding places for mosquitos. But there's not been any rain lately (in fact I saw someone watering the dirt to prevent it from blowing up dust) and I have seen people sweeping the dirt when there are no leaves around at all.
Then I thought that maybe it was like how you get those little Japanese gardens. But those gardens have raked gravel or sand and are very formal looking. A lot of the dirt I've seen swept here isn't really a part of a structured garden. It's the dirt near or on pavements or the dirt where you'd normally find a lawn back home.
The dirt is swept every day, usually in the very early hours of the morning, and when there's leaves around they get picked up and burnt. Composting doesn't happen here which is a bit of a shame but perhaps with the wide range of creatures here it's all just too dangerous (e.g. imaging getting a snake in a compost bin or a poisonous spider – eek). Maybe that's it? Could it prevent spiders and snakes turning up? Could a snake's tracks in the swept dirt alert you to their presence? But then the dirt gets swept on concrete and right in the city where there's no way a snake would hang out and I've not seen any squashed snakes on the roads in town. Australia has snakes and big spiders too but I haven't seen dirt sweeping there.
I'm also a bit confused at the tool which is used to do the sweeping. They're little brushes made out of reeds and they're short which means that people here have to bend over to sweep. It all looks a bit back breaking and time consuming to me. I have seen brooms here and other garden tools. So using those little brushes seems a bit like brushing your hair with a mascara wand.
Hmm, maybe I'm thinking a bit too much about this but it's really bugging me. Sure, I know that if a local here came to NZ they'd be weirded out by lots of stuff - the pre-cut pumpkin on a polystyrene tray covered in glad wrap, singly wrapped prunes, people who never take off-road vehicles off the road… Actually I find all that stuff weird too. But anyway, I shall make it my mission to get to the bottom of this dirty secret (pun intended) before I finish up here.
Monday, October 25, 2010
'I'll spend you my pretties, and your little dog too!'
Monday, at a meeting, we were urged to burn through grant money faster-we have hundreds of thousands to spend before December- else we would need to seek an extension (gasp!). We are not spending money fast enough on vehicles, feel good interactive sessions with people or things that generally present a happy picture to donors. 'Burning the cash' was an expression repeated a few times. Wife and I looked queasily at each other.
I guess that is why there is no time to deliver the storehouse food to the kids, roll out the wills training people are screaming for or engage with the wife and I's suggestions for better accountability/efficiencies. No time! We gotta go full power burning da cash! The office in an uproar! Winged monkeys dispatched in all directions weighted under bags of cash to dump in random fires.
Some days I love it here. Some days I get that same sick feeling I used to get working in gambling...huge sums of money being applied, shall we say, sometimes a bit less than efficiently?
Last night I was a bit down and tried to click my ruby slippers 3 times and say 'There is no place like Petone'. Didn't work.
I need to see the Wizard.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
It's not what we're drinking, it's the pink shirts we are wearing
After some eventful weekends, I was ready for a quiet weekend in Moshi, buy some shoes (mine are falling apart), read a book, talk about my feelings with the wife etc, you know boring weekend stuff.
Then an Arusha volly sent through an invite to an open air dance event on the outskirts of Arusha for Saturday Night. Entry was free, you just had to wear something pink. I was kinda umming and ahhing, mke was resolutely out but happy for me to go, then I got offered a ride with an American mate into Arusha so it was on. I grabbed my trusty pink 'Funky Chick' pencil case/wallet of '99 and off I went.
Hooked up with the other kiwis in Arusha for lunch at the 'Big Bite' a homely Indian restaurant. Nice butter chicken. Not so nice chillis. Some attention seeking stunts like devouring a whole chilli are better in theory than execution. Big ups to Nico who ate a solidarity chili so I wasn't the only chimp crying my eyes out in pain at lunch.
One of us needed to meet a colleague at Via Via, a local outdoor bar/cafe, so me and another kiwi went to the next door Arusha Museum of Natural History. Past two resident (and monstrously ugly) Maribou storks and into a lot of dusty displays, stuffed animals and faded explanatory notes. I'm still not into recreations of hominid life. Creepy apes. I did want to steal the stuffed Buffalo and drive through Arusha with it on the roof rack...
After that pit stop for knowledge, we headed to a local market to buy more pink apparel. I loved how the stall operators starting frantically pulling out and displaying all their pink clothes when it was apparent what items the kiwis were there for. Bought a 'San Antonio' emblazoned hot pink figure hugging tee shirt...will come in handy when I have a beer at the Victoria Tavern at Petone on my return.
Grabbed copious amounts of ridiculously cheap, sugar cane derived alcohol AKA Konyagi, mixers and headed to a Kiwi's flat for pre-drinks. Now, some people who know me well may be aware that er....sometimes I don't always pace myself in an ideal manner for a long night, if you know what I mean. I did love how a 23 year old kiwi girl was advising this 32 year old to alternate water and alcohol and take it slower...you can take the boy out of Petone etc.
So soon I was having a jolly old time, challenging people to arm wrestling (after I lost 6 times in a row, the last one to a 19 year old kiwi girl, I gave up), remonstrating with someone who dared cut off U2's 'One Tree Hill' mid song ('It's about New Zealand! I was having a moment!') and having lots of deep and meaningfuls. We are all a thoughtful bunch, us Kiwi volunteers. I enjoy our alcohol enhanced conversations about life, directions, making a difference etc I have hope for my country, talking to those enthusiastic, life loving kids. Brings a smile to this sad old public servant's face.
The night was drawing on and so we jumped in a taxi and went off to find the dance event...the thing was, we couldn't find the bl**dy thing. Despite one of us already being there and valiantly trying to direct us, we were lost in the backwater of Arusha. All wearing pink. We finally flagged and headed back into town towards Maasai Camp, a large night clubb-y complex.
I made a rare, mature decision and decided to call it a night. I was feeling a little under the weather. So me and another kiwi rolled back to base to get some sleep. Woke up about 630am, got in touch with the other Kiwis (who had stayed out all night) and met them at Damascus, a local Cigar and Shisha Bar and Brunch Place. I was staggered by their energy. These kids had been up all night partying and looked fine, munching breakfast. Liked how they had picked up some random Arusha-ite to hang out with us, a mumbling, gesticulating woman with a perchant for the phrase 'Ooo la la'...Arusha.
I felt decidedly green and was not much fun to hang out with. Got a ride to the bus terminal, napped most of the way back to Moshi and went home to face the music.
So while I realised I cannot match the pace of people 10 years younger than me in either partying or arm wrestling, I had some fun times, deep talks and now have a fetching new pink shirt.
Plus I heard later, the dance party was lame...12 people in a field, none wearing pink.
Now, hopefully NEXT weekend will be quiet.
Then an Arusha volly sent through an invite to an open air dance event on the outskirts of Arusha for Saturday Night. Entry was free, you just had to wear something pink. I was kinda umming and ahhing, mke was resolutely out but happy for me to go, then I got offered a ride with an American mate into Arusha so it was on. I grabbed my trusty pink 'Funky Chick' pencil case/wallet of '99 and off I went.
Hooked up with the other kiwis in Arusha for lunch at the 'Big Bite' a homely Indian restaurant. Nice butter chicken. Not so nice chillis. Some attention seeking stunts like devouring a whole chilli are better in theory than execution. Big ups to Nico who ate a solidarity chili so I wasn't the only chimp crying my eyes out in pain at lunch.
One of us needed to meet a colleague at Via Via, a local outdoor bar/cafe, so me and another kiwi went to the next door Arusha Museum of Natural History. Past two resident (and monstrously ugly) Maribou storks and into a lot of dusty displays, stuffed animals and faded explanatory notes. I'm still not into recreations of hominid life. Creepy apes. I did want to steal the stuffed Buffalo and drive through Arusha with it on the roof rack...
After that pit stop for knowledge, we headed to a local market to buy more pink apparel. I loved how the stall operators starting frantically pulling out and displaying all their pink clothes when it was apparent what items the kiwis were there for. Bought a 'San Antonio' emblazoned hot pink figure hugging tee shirt...will come in handy when I have a beer at the Victoria Tavern at Petone on my return.
Grabbed copious amounts of ridiculously cheap, sugar cane derived alcohol AKA Konyagi, mixers and headed to a Kiwi's flat for pre-drinks. Now, some people who know me well may be aware that er....sometimes I don't always pace myself in an ideal manner for a long night, if you know what I mean. I did love how a 23 year old kiwi girl was advising this 32 year old to alternate water and alcohol and take it slower...you can take the boy out of Petone etc.
So soon I was having a jolly old time, challenging people to arm wrestling (after I lost 6 times in a row, the last one to a 19 year old kiwi girl, I gave up), remonstrating with someone who dared cut off U2's 'One Tree Hill' mid song ('It's about New Zealand! I was having a moment!') and having lots of deep and meaningfuls. We are all a thoughtful bunch, us Kiwi volunteers. I enjoy our alcohol enhanced conversations about life, directions, making a difference etc I have hope for my country, talking to those enthusiastic, life loving kids. Brings a smile to this sad old public servant's face.
The night was drawing on and so we jumped in a taxi and went off to find the dance event...the thing was, we couldn't find the bl**dy thing. Despite one of us already being there and valiantly trying to direct us, we were lost in the backwater of Arusha. All wearing pink. We finally flagged and headed back into town towards Maasai Camp, a large night clubb-y complex.
I made a rare, mature decision and decided to call it a night. I was feeling a little under the weather. So me and another kiwi rolled back to base to get some sleep. Woke up about 630am, got in touch with the other Kiwis (who had stayed out all night) and met them at Damascus, a local Cigar and Shisha Bar and Brunch Place. I was staggered by their energy. These kids had been up all night partying and looked fine, munching breakfast. Liked how they had picked up some random Arusha-ite to hang out with us, a mumbling, gesticulating woman with a perchant for the phrase 'Ooo la la'...Arusha.
I felt decidedly green and was not much fun to hang out with. Got a ride to the bus terminal, napped most of the way back to Moshi and went home to face the music.
So while I realised I cannot match the pace of people 10 years younger than me in either partying or arm wrestling, I had some fun times, deep talks and now have a fetching new pink shirt.
Plus I heard later, the dance party was lame...12 people in a field, none wearing pink.
Now, hopefully NEXT weekend will be quiet.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Bloggers of the World Unite
I was sneakily trawling through the archives of a fellow vollie's blog. I suspect all of us Tanzanian vollies keep an eye on eachother's writing: for entertainment, empathy and a bit of kiwiana nostalgia. My friend's blog is far more erudite and thoughtful than my poor man's gonzo-lite raving.
I was struck by a passage in the blog about how your ego has to die a bit out here. All the vollies have come from NZ, dare I say, from some measure of success in our chosen fields. Yet, out here, you gotta start all over again as an outsider. And on tasks that are literally life and death. No pressure. Managing unrealistic expectations of achievement and the guilt when things go haywire as well as learning to enjoy the little wins/fun times more, are all valuble learnings I will take back for my own development.
I'm going to finish by shamelessly ripping a piece from my friend's blog (don't tell him, he gyms a lot, I don't want another beating). But it neatly sums up my experience here for me:
it’s just that in africa the rules, realities, and norms of the so called developed world do not apply. furthermore, in most cases even the laws of the land do not apply. you have to rely on your self and the kindness of strangers. there is no AA to come to your rescue. there is no 111 in emergencies. the wildlife here comes looking for you, not the other way around. in short, your sensors are heightened, you see, feel and think more (being outsiders, you have to). more importantly, i feel that we are not bound by perceptions of people who are familiar…. here we have the freedom to re-invent ourselves everyday.
I was struck by a passage in the blog about how your ego has to die a bit out here. All the vollies have come from NZ, dare I say, from some measure of success in our chosen fields. Yet, out here, you gotta start all over again as an outsider. And on tasks that are literally life and death. No pressure. Managing unrealistic expectations of achievement and the guilt when things go haywire as well as learning to enjoy the little wins/fun times more, are all valuble learnings I will take back for my own development.
I'm going to finish by shamelessly ripping a piece from my friend's blog (don't tell him, he gyms a lot, I don't want another beating). But it neatly sums up my experience here for me:
it’s just that in africa the rules, realities, and norms of the so called developed world do not apply. furthermore, in most cases even the laws of the land do not apply. you have to rely on your self and the kindness of strangers. there is no AA to come to your rescue. there is no 111 in emergencies. the wildlife here comes looking for you, not the other way around. in short, your sensors are heightened, you see, feel and think more (being outsiders, you have to). more importantly, i feel that we are not bound by perceptions of people who are familiar…. here we have the freedom to re-invent ourselves everyday.
Serengeti/Lake Natron Trip Part 5 Conclusion
Part 5 The Voyage Home
So after leaving the lake-with the local Maasai waterfall guide guy in the back for a ride to Mto Wa Mbu-we raced off along the dirt roads again. We came across a landrover with a shattered axle and (no AA here) loaded up the axle and 2 occupants to take them to Mto Wa Mbu as well. So we had a packed vehicle. I was bemused by the extra passengers the Tour gods kept granting us, but I guess here is where lofty ideals of ‘Good Samaritan’ meet hard reality. Gotta help each other out, yo.
(Lengai on the right as we head home)
We got to the town at about 8ish, dropped our passengers and walked Kat to a dala dala to take her back to Karatu. It was great to have a random ‘nother Kiwi along for the journey, karibu tena Kat. Getting back to the car we found another problem.
Breakdown II.
Our right back wheel was a bit, well wonky, I think a bearing or two had gone on the rough Natron road. That road was a horror, surprised we didn't have more equipment malfunctions. It would take at least an hour to fix. Our driver had done enough driving that night we thought as there would still be another 4 hours or so back to Moshi. So we stayed the night at a local ‘Twiga Campsite and Lodge Hotel’. Our stay was pleasant but expensive. Stupid muzungu tourist prices. We drove back the next day and spent the remainder of the day relaxing by the YMCA Pool in Moshi.
What an adventure. Africa will not let us take a ‘normal‘holiday it seems. Big shout out to our driver and friend, who dealt with poor roads, long hours, vehicle issues and constant badgering to see leopards with aplomb.
Finally, on the way home we saw a magnificent eagle, its wing torn off by a vehicle, dying by the side of the road north of Arusha. It looked blearily at us for solace, all we could do was move it into the shade, while avoiding its talons. From the sweeping plains of animals and the 'Mountain of God' to a raptor discarded like trash by the side of a dusty road.
Off to play Nintendo now.
So after leaving the lake-with the local Maasai waterfall guide guy in the back for a ride to Mto Wa Mbu-we raced off along the dirt roads again. We came across a landrover with a shattered axle and (no AA here) loaded up the axle and 2 occupants to take them to Mto Wa Mbu as well. So we had a packed vehicle. I was bemused by the extra passengers the Tour gods kept granting us, but I guess here is where lofty ideals of ‘Good Samaritan’ meet hard reality. Gotta help each other out, yo.
(Lengai on the right as we head home)
We got to the town at about 8ish, dropped our passengers and walked Kat to a dala dala to take her back to Karatu. It was great to have a random ‘nother Kiwi along for the journey, karibu tena Kat. Getting back to the car we found another problem.
Breakdown II.
Our right back wheel was a bit, well wonky, I think a bearing or two had gone on the rough Natron road. That road was a horror, surprised we didn't have more equipment malfunctions. It would take at least an hour to fix. Our driver had done enough driving that night we thought as there would still be another 4 hours or so back to Moshi. So we stayed the night at a local ‘Twiga Campsite and Lodge Hotel’. Our stay was pleasant but expensive. Stupid muzungu tourist prices. We drove back the next day and spent the remainder of the day relaxing by the YMCA Pool in Moshi.
What an adventure. Africa will not let us take a ‘normal‘holiday it seems. Big shout out to our driver and friend, who dealt with poor roads, long hours, vehicle issues and constant badgering to see leopards with aplomb.
Finally, on the way home we saw a magnificent eagle, its wing torn off by a vehicle, dying by the side of the road north of Arusha. It looked blearily at us for solace, all we could do was move it into the shade, while avoiding its talons. From the sweeping plains of animals and the 'Mountain of God' to a raptor discarded like trash by the side of a dusty road.
Off to play Nintendo now.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Serengeti/Lake Natron Trip part 4
I woke up about 530amish and couldn't get back to sleep so I headed out beyond the camp to see what I could see in the dawn. A rocky, thorny, scrubby plain cut by the odd stream and in the distance, Lake Natron and far off tan mountains. Reminded me a lot of the Judean desert/Dead Sea. It put me in a contemplative mood.
(this little guy busted into my volcano shot)
After breakfast, we took in the local geography. As said, distant mountains and the Rift Valley escarpment while Lengai broods in the middle. You could clearly see ash on the side of the volcano near the top. People can climb Lengai if they want. Our driver had taken some clients up there when it had started one of its periodic eruptions (‘it roared like a lion’ he said) Ulp. One look at its steep sides and I was out..
(2 kiwis and 1X volcano)
We went to a local village and followed a local guide to a huge waterfall hidden in a rocky gorge. Had a wonderful hour or so swimming, scrambling up slippery rocks, getting under the waterfall and generally a good old time. Except for that one part where I got sucked near the side into an undertow and couldn’t surface for a few minutes…um.
After lunch (during which our driver visited a friend who had had a leg burnt off when he went through a thin crust on top of magma on top of Lengai…) we headed out to Lake Natron proper.
(the view back to Lengai and the Rift Valley wall on the right as we trudge along)
It’s a soda lake, meaning no swimming or drinking, and packed with flamingos that enjoy the algae that thrives on the mineral conditions. A very important breeding site for the Flamingo. We drove then trudged out over a muddy moonscape to get as close as we could to the hundreds of resident flamingos. Such a remote, surreal lake populated by these pink oddities.
We were picking up cellphone signals from Kenya as we trudged back to the vehicle…to find that local Maasai souvenir sellers had set up a gauntlet back to the car. I have no idea where in that remote lunar landscape they all appeared from, but I bought a fetching man bracelet, while Kat grabbed a (permanently affixed?) ankle ring.
Kiwis in da house!
(to be concluded.)
(this little guy busted into my volcano shot)
After breakfast, we took in the local geography. As said, distant mountains and the Rift Valley escarpment while Lengai broods in the middle. You could clearly see ash on the side of the volcano near the top. People can climb Lengai if they want. Our driver had taken some clients up there when it had started one of its periodic eruptions (‘it roared like a lion’ he said) Ulp. One look at its steep sides and I was out..
(2 kiwis and 1X volcano)
We went to a local village and followed a local guide to a huge waterfall hidden in a rocky gorge. Had a wonderful hour or so swimming, scrambling up slippery rocks, getting under the waterfall and generally a good old time. Except for that one part where I got sucked near the side into an undertow and couldn’t surface for a few minutes…um.
After lunch (during which our driver visited a friend who had had a leg burnt off when he went through a thin crust on top of magma on top of Lengai…) we headed out to Lake Natron proper.
(the view back to Lengai and the Rift Valley wall on the right as we trudge along)
It’s a soda lake, meaning no swimming or drinking, and packed with flamingos that enjoy the algae that thrives on the mineral conditions. A very important breeding site for the Flamingo. We drove then trudged out over a muddy moonscape to get as close as we could to the hundreds of resident flamingos. Such a remote, surreal lake populated by these pink oddities.
We were picking up cellphone signals from Kenya as we trudged back to the vehicle…to find that local Maasai souvenir sellers had set up a gauntlet back to the car. I have no idea where in that remote lunar landscape they all appeared from, but I bought a fetching man bracelet, while Kat grabbed a (permanently affixed?) ankle ring.
Kiwis in da house!
(to be concluded.)
Serengeti/Lake Natron part 3
AKA The Curse of Natron
I slept like the dead and it was going to be another big day of driving. At least 7 hours to get from our current position in the Serengeti to Lake Natron near the Kenyan border. We headed off, stopping briefly at the camp where the staff/drivers live in the park to pick up fuel. I was struck by the functional nature of the camp compared to the swish tented lodges the tourists stay in. Felt a little guilty...maybe tourists should have the option to 'upgrade' staff's lodgings.
We drove through the park heading back towards the Nabi gate through an alternate route that took us through immense grassy plains and over kopjes (small hills/outcroppings). It was great to have no other vehicles anywhere…this was how I pictured the Serengeti. I got out of the car for a toilet break and to chase a gazelle. It’s hard to picture the scale of the plains ‘till you are running after a gazelle in it.
Passing more broken down vehicles we got back to the Gate and were out of the Park. Short but sweet. We headed back the way we came to the Ngorongoro crater. I noticed our driver was throwing bottles of water to the thirsty Maasai children on the roadside…I can’t really relate to not having a regular source of water, hm. Stopped to take a picture (with permission) of some young Maasai males in ritual makeup for circumcision.
Breakdown I.
We had stopped just before ascending the Ngorongoro Crater to remonstrate with a vehicle that was breaking a local no-use- horn regulation (‘we are the Government, that is why we chose to break it’) when we saw smoke pouring out of the engine. We had a crack in the radiator the size of the Rift Valley. And were some distance from civilization still. It seemed every time I wanted to travel to Lake Natron, there was a breakdown of some kind! At least this event occurred on the Ngorongoro route and not the alternate-and seldom used- traverse of the Serengeti we had originally contemplated taking to Natron.
Awkward, as we had given water away to the locals, our driver had to scramble off to locate more, leaving the wife and I to humorously fend off the attentions of the growing crowd of curious Maasai around our vehicle. He soon returned with water and 2 young Maasai boys recruited to keep regularly topping up our steaming, leaking radiator in exchange for a ride to a faraway school.
(stopped near the Crater)
We slowly headed off and with many stops to fill water, got over the Crater and into the nearby town of Karatu at 3pm. An intrepid fellow NZ volunteer lives there…I’ll call her Kat and we arranged to meet her while a local mechanic soldered the leak in the radiator. 3 kiwis had pizza and beer in relaxed surroundings while our car was fixed. I like the surrounds of Karatu, reminds me of the hills around Taradale…anyway.
(Kiwis!)
Kat had been in the landrover with us during the aborted rolling landrover mission to Lake Natron about a month ago. She was a bit bored that weekend, and the wife and I thought ‘what the heck, let’s get the band back together, we already have 2 Masaai passengers riding with us..’ so we asked Kat if she wanted to come with us. Our driver was cool with it, Kat was stoked and so at about 5pm (eep) we set off again.
After passing through the town of Mto Wa Mbu (Mosquito River) we got onto the 110km of gravel roads between us and our Lake Natron Campsite.
The sun was setting behind the Rift Valley escarpment as we raced along but we did stop quickly at our previous crash site to pour out a beer for our (almost) dead homies.
Soon it was pitch black and we were racing over uncertain roads and dry river crossings to…I don’t know where. As some point, I realised, as I saw our driver chewing a caffeine-type grass in the strobing headlights caused by the fierce juddering of the car, and as I looked back at 2 Maasai kids and a Kiwi mate in the back, any vestigial notion of a pampered tour had washed away like the water from our radiator to be replaced by an episode of ‘The Amazing Race’.
I could make out the brooding triangular shape of the volcano Lengai to the side as we bumped along. And we were there. We pulled up to the campsite (run by the local Maasai tribe) to a raucous chorus of bullfrogs and a wave of dry heat. Apparently the Natron areas is one of the hottest parts in Tanzania…guess I skipped that part of the Lonely Planet. The 2 Maasai students took off to catch a bus to their school in Liliondo and after a tasty dinner of mbuzi (goat..that 2 out of 3 of us could enjoy) we went off to their tents ready for whatever adventures lay ahead the next day.
(to be continued)
Serengeti/Natron Trip Part 2
We got up at 430am, dressed hurriedly and met our driver. Raced along under a huge starry sky through the pre-dawn Serengeti. Saw hyena and hippo going home from their respective foraging/grazing. We got to the launch site to find 2 large balloons on their sides in the process of being inflated. No strong wind, it was perfect flying conditions. Franatee started freaking a bit at a huge rent in the side of our balloon..phew, it is meant to be there to let excess hot air out.
We were told we would have to get into the basket (16 to a basket) sideways to stop the possibility of the basket being dragged around as the balloon was lifted upright. Or something. So amidst the din of fans blowing air into the balloon and huge gouts of flaming gas, we were motioned into our positions. Slowly, the basket was pulled upright and-almost without feeling it-we were airborne as the sun rose behind us.
(view from the basket)
While technically at the mercy of the wind, we felt no turbulence as we smoothly gained distance and altitude. It was like no other flying experience I have had.
(zebra below as we drift over)
(a giraffe as seen from the air)
For an hour we drifted over hippo heading back to rivers, spooked herds of zebra, running gazelle and birds sitting in trees. It was all pretty amazing. And over far too soon. We came to a smooth landing in an open clearing and shot back champagne to celebrate (told you it was foppish). A nice champagne breakfast in the heart of the Serengeti. It was a little weird getting waited on by Tanzanians in faux turbaned servant outfits, but I had a good yak to a couple of Aussie lawyers over my bacon and tomatoes. And received a certificate for my flight, probably my most demonstrable achievement in the last 7 months...awkward
Safari time
After the balloon, we met our driver again and after a short break watching mongeese cavort at a visitor centre, we were off game spotting. Saw tons of zebra. Our driver was great for getting us in the right spot to see the rarities. We sat for 30 minutes as a leopard finished eating a kill under a nearby tree before it hoisted itself up on a branch.
Was stoked to be able to photograph a leopard again (after someone lost our leopard photos from South Africa 2 years ago…awkward). We watched a large herd of elephant-including a jaunty baby-pass behind our vehicle.
The highlight of the day for me-though perhaps not the wife-was watching a cheetah slowly stalk up to a starting position by a herd of Thomson’s Gazelle. 8 vehicles (heh, spectator blood sport) waited silently for 45 minutes until after a short jog, the cheetah shot off at maximum speed after a gazelle.
We soon lost it in a swirl of dust and panicked antelope. We found it again some distance away, through the binos, suffocating its victim before eating quickly. While no hyena were around, vultures were soon landing and waiting impatiently until their numbers were enough to scare the cheetah away from its food. (Francoise still wishes she had taken an air horn to warn the hapless gazelle.)
Makes you think about how in the animal kingdom you are either fast or you are hungry/dinner.
I must say, I’ve done my share of game parks in Africa but I’ve never seen tourists in such numbers and with such fevered panic as they were in the Serengeti, aggressively vying for the best photo opportunities. Guess I’ve been spoilt and can relax and realize it is all a bit of a gamble as to what you will see.
We passed by a pool packed to the gills with hippo…big dirty things scrapping in a slurry of poop with mouths full of tusks…a solitary croc basking behind them.
We then saw two cheetahs and a cub hoeing into another dead gazelle. We headed back to Ikoma Tented Lodge again for a shower and a bit of a rest. I sat outside the tent watching a huge thundercloud move slowly across the horizon. I like how Africa makes me feel small.
The wife and I were exhausted but still had a night drive to do. Franatee fell asleep on the drive, despite her insisting we needed to do the activity. At least we saw quite a few rabbits, we don’t get those back home. Hate night drives.
(to be continued)
We were told we would have to get into the basket (16 to a basket) sideways to stop the possibility of the basket being dragged around as the balloon was lifted upright. Or something. So amidst the din of fans blowing air into the balloon and huge gouts of flaming gas, we were motioned into our positions. Slowly, the basket was pulled upright and-almost without feeling it-we were airborne as the sun rose behind us.
(view from the basket)
While technically at the mercy of the wind, we felt no turbulence as we smoothly gained distance and altitude. It was like no other flying experience I have had.
(zebra below as we drift over)
(a giraffe as seen from the air)
For an hour we drifted over hippo heading back to rivers, spooked herds of zebra, running gazelle and birds sitting in trees. It was all pretty amazing. And over far too soon. We came to a smooth landing in an open clearing and shot back champagne to celebrate (told you it was foppish). A nice champagne breakfast in the heart of the Serengeti. It was a little weird getting waited on by Tanzanians in faux turbaned servant outfits, but I had a good yak to a couple of Aussie lawyers over my bacon and tomatoes. And received a certificate for my flight, probably my most demonstrable achievement in the last 7 months...awkward
Safari time
After the balloon, we met our driver again and after a short break watching mongeese cavort at a visitor centre, we were off game spotting. Saw tons of zebra. Our driver was great for getting us in the right spot to see the rarities. We sat for 30 minutes as a leopard finished eating a kill under a nearby tree before it hoisted itself up on a branch.
Was stoked to be able to photograph a leopard again (after someone lost our leopard photos from South Africa 2 years ago…awkward). We watched a large herd of elephant-including a jaunty baby-pass behind our vehicle.
The highlight of the day for me-though perhaps not the wife-was watching a cheetah slowly stalk up to a starting position by a herd of Thomson’s Gazelle. 8 vehicles (heh, spectator blood sport) waited silently for 45 minutes until after a short jog, the cheetah shot off at maximum speed after a gazelle.
We soon lost it in a swirl of dust and panicked antelope. We found it again some distance away, through the binos, suffocating its victim before eating quickly. While no hyena were around, vultures were soon landing and waiting impatiently until their numbers were enough to scare the cheetah away from its food. (Francoise still wishes she had taken an air horn to warn the hapless gazelle.)
Makes you think about how in the animal kingdom you are either fast or you are hungry/dinner.
I must say, I’ve done my share of game parks in Africa but I’ve never seen tourists in such numbers and with such fevered panic as they were in the Serengeti, aggressively vying for the best photo opportunities. Guess I’ve been spoilt and can relax and realize it is all a bit of a gamble as to what you will see.
We passed by a pool packed to the gills with hippo…big dirty things scrapping in a slurry of poop with mouths full of tusks…a solitary croc basking behind them.
We then saw two cheetahs and a cub hoeing into another dead gazelle. We headed back to Ikoma Tented Lodge again for a shower and a bit of a rest. I sat outside the tent watching a huge thundercloud move slowly across the horizon. I like how Africa makes me feel small.
The wife and I were exhausted but still had a night drive to do. Franatee fell asleep on the drive, despite her insisting we needed to do the activity. At least we saw quite a few rabbits, we don’t get those back home. Hate night drives.
(to be continued)
Serengeti/Natron Trip part 1
So you can’t really go to Tanzania without going to see the Serengeti (means ‘endless plains’ in Maasai-helpful fact) can ya? Plus, following the last abortive attempt/landrover mishap, I also really wanted to successfully get to Lake Natron and see the active volcano, Ol Doinyo Lengai (means ‘Mountain of God’ in Maasai-another helpful fact). So, we arranged to do a tight four days in October; a really compressed tiki tour of Northern Tanzania. Yes, I really should have waited to November/December as that is when the wildebeest migration is supposed to be back, but what can I say, I’m impatient!
As you know from past blog posts, the wife and I were also keen to escape our spartan volunteer existence for a day and foppishly BALLOON OVER THE SERENGETI! I wasn’t so fussed about the recent tourist deaths while ballooning and more apprehensive about the insane amounts of driving that each day was going to involve. I hoped despite the tight schedule, there would be more relaxing and less craze than some other adventures...heh, read on.
We drove off from Moshi at 7:30am on Thursday, hearing lots of interesting information from our driver about a nearby mountain where the Maasai pass on names to each generation, Chagga dispute resolution ceremonies etc etc. A brief stop in Arusha for snacks and we were following the convoys of tourist traffic heading north to the game parks. Very dry. Maasai in their blood-red shukas and herds of Jerusalem donkeys (so named for the cross of mane on their backs).
You have to pass through the Ngorongoro Conservation Area (and the Crater) in order to get to the Serengeti. Plus, we wanted to make a lunchtime stop at Oldovai Gorge (i.e the Cradle of Mankind) on the way to the Serengeti-a mere 100+ kilometre diversion. The drive from the Ngorogoro Gate to Oldovai Gorge was one of the more adrenaline inducing rides I’ve been on. Hitting downhill bad roads at speed with lots of sliding and dust. The odd truck on the road heading to Mwanza to avoid. Our driver was phenomenal, but I was glad when we were off that stretch of road.
Oldovai Gorge
Oldovai gorge is surrounded by extinct volcanos. While the gorge did not appear overly remarkable at first glance, is one of the most important historical sites on the planet. An erosion created rift that is filled with fossils. Bone fragments of hominids i.e precursors of man millions of years old like Australopithecus boisei. I don’t think I’m a creationist by any means but hominids kinda creep me out...just saying. Anyway, a great little museum there. Liked the plaster cast of a trail of footprints that were millions of years old. Not such a fan of the toilets there that I think were from the Australopithecus era.
(I don't see the resemblance to this ape man...my wife did though)
Serengeti!
We got on the move and comparatively soon we were at the Nabi Gate in the South end of the Park. A lone Secretary Bird balefully watched us enter the Gate. We could see the plains stretching out on either side of the dusty road we were on. As we moved along, we saw a lot of two things: animal bones and broken down land cruisers. We got nearer the centre of the Serengeti, passing elephant, some lioness on a rock and lots of different kinds of antelope.
(It just goes on and on...)
Dusk was fast approaching so we checked in at the ‘Serengeti Balloon Safari’ headquarters to talk about the flight the next morning. Lamentably, I was told the wildebeest migration was nowhere near our area of the Park. Also no-one mentioned the recent deaths funnily enough.
We raced off towards the Ikoma Gate (sort of in the upper middle of the Park) and our Tented Lodge. We passed by a hippo pond, a grumpy buffalo and hyena as we sped along in the increasing darkness. Got to our tent about 730pm. Dodging the bats flying about in the dark we grabbed some food/beer and tried to stave off fatigue. Twas going to be an early start in the morning…
(to be continued)
(lone antelope in the vastness)
As you know from past blog posts, the wife and I were also keen to escape our spartan volunteer existence for a day and foppishly BALLOON OVER THE SERENGETI! I wasn’t so fussed about the recent tourist deaths while ballooning and more apprehensive about the insane amounts of driving that each day was going to involve. I hoped despite the tight schedule, there would be more relaxing and less craze than some other adventures...heh, read on.
We drove off from Moshi at 7:30am on Thursday, hearing lots of interesting information from our driver about a nearby mountain where the Maasai pass on names to each generation, Chagga dispute resolution ceremonies etc etc. A brief stop in Arusha for snacks and we were following the convoys of tourist traffic heading north to the game parks. Very dry. Maasai in their blood-red shukas and herds of Jerusalem donkeys (so named for the cross of mane on their backs).
You have to pass through the Ngorongoro Conservation Area (and the Crater) in order to get to the Serengeti. Plus, we wanted to make a lunchtime stop at Oldovai Gorge (i.e the Cradle of Mankind) on the way to the Serengeti-a mere 100+ kilometre diversion. The drive from the Ngorogoro Gate to Oldovai Gorge was one of the more adrenaline inducing rides I’ve been on. Hitting downhill bad roads at speed with lots of sliding and dust. The odd truck on the road heading to Mwanza to avoid. Our driver was phenomenal, but I was glad when we were off that stretch of road.
Oldovai Gorge
Oldovai gorge is surrounded by extinct volcanos. While the gorge did not appear overly remarkable at first glance, is one of the most important historical sites on the planet. An erosion created rift that is filled with fossils. Bone fragments of hominids i.e precursors of man millions of years old like Australopithecus boisei. I don’t think I’m a creationist by any means but hominids kinda creep me out...just saying. Anyway, a great little museum there. Liked the plaster cast of a trail of footprints that were millions of years old. Not such a fan of the toilets there that I think were from the Australopithecus era.
(I don't see the resemblance to this ape man...my wife did though)
Serengeti!
We got on the move and comparatively soon we were at the Nabi Gate in the South end of the Park. A lone Secretary Bird balefully watched us enter the Gate. We could see the plains stretching out on either side of the dusty road we were on. As we moved along, we saw a lot of two things: animal bones and broken down land cruisers. We got nearer the centre of the Serengeti, passing elephant, some lioness on a rock and lots of different kinds of antelope.
(It just goes on and on...)
Dusk was fast approaching so we checked in at the ‘Serengeti Balloon Safari’ headquarters to talk about the flight the next morning. Lamentably, I was told the wildebeest migration was nowhere near our area of the Park. Also no-one mentioned the recent deaths funnily enough.
We raced off towards the Ikoma Gate (sort of in the upper middle of the Park) and our Tented Lodge. We passed by a hippo pond, a grumpy buffalo and hyena as we sped along in the increasing darkness. Got to our tent about 730pm. Dodging the bats flying about in the dark we grabbed some food/beer and tried to stave off fatigue. Twas going to be an early start in the morning…
(to be continued)
(lone antelope in the vastness)
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Hindenberg jokes...cancelled
http://www.dailynews.co.tz/home/?n=13514&cat=home
The incident happened on September 29th...um why yes this is the operator we had planned to balloon with why do you ask? The only balloon operator in the Serengeti, these are the first fatalities in many years of operation. From what I can gather, high winds (it is windy in Moshi too, something to do with the dry, hot air? I'm not a meteorologist) pushed the balloon into some hills and everyone fell out. Hard.
Investigations are underway here but unlike in NZ-where I'm pretty sure a tourist operation would be suspended pending the outcome of an investigation-the balloons are still flying. The operator's website details new wind speed/ceiling/no fly area requirements. So they seem to be front footing it. I imagine they are being ultra cautious at the mo...another incident would probably sink the operation for good.
My take on it? I'm relaxed. Shortly before I cage dived in South Africa in 2008, some tourists drowned in a cage when their boat capsized. There is risk in everything. What matters is whether the risk is a calculated and reasonable. And that I have a parachute to wear.
Still hoping we get a balloon shot, but it won't be the end of the world if it doesn't happen.
The incident happened on September 29th...um why yes this is the operator we had planned to balloon with why do you ask? The only balloon operator in the Serengeti, these are the first fatalities in many years of operation. From what I can gather, high winds (it is windy in Moshi too, something to do with the dry, hot air? I'm not a meteorologist) pushed the balloon into some hills and everyone fell out. Hard.
Investigations are underway here but unlike in NZ-where I'm pretty sure a tourist operation would be suspended pending the outcome of an investigation-the balloons are still flying. The operator's website details new wind speed/ceiling/no fly area requirements. So they seem to be front footing it. I imagine they are being ultra cautious at the mo...another incident would probably sink the operation for good.
My take on it? I'm relaxed. Shortly before I cage dived in South Africa in 2008, some tourists drowned in a cage when their boat capsized. There is risk in everything. What matters is whether the risk is a calculated and reasonable. And that I have a parachute to wear.
Still hoping we get a balloon shot, but it won't be the end of the world if it doesn't happen.
I'm melting...
"Only two kinds of creatures get fun in the desert. Bedouins and gods, and you are neither. Take it from me. For ordinary men, it's a burning, fiery furnace."
Dryden, Lawrence of Arabia
Yes, I know TECHNICALLY I am not in a desert but it is so freaking hot at the moment. It is summer-hot at 8am when I bike to work. It is unbearable around 1pm. Difficult to sleep before midnight. Maybe Arusha is cooler, I dunno. But here in the Mosh it is a dry, bright heat that sucks your will to live. My eyes hurt. 3 fans on at work. Desire to jog decreasing...I shudder to think what it is like on the Coast at the mo where it is humid as well. Vegetation is reverting to the brown colour that greeted us when we first turned up in March. I saw dust devils swirling in the brown distance on my recent bus ride to Arusha.
Dry and hot.
And this is just the start...apart from the respite of the 'short rains' in November/December, I think it stays hot all the way into next year...sob.
We have a mad plan (yes another) possibly to pop to the desert of Namibia on the way home in March..but if deserts are hotter than where I am now...count me out.
(Look how hot it is as I look out my front door at sunset. Okay, this is Tatooine but believe me, it looks identical to Moshi at the mo)
Dryden, Lawrence of Arabia
Yes, I know TECHNICALLY I am not in a desert but it is so freaking hot at the moment. It is summer-hot at 8am when I bike to work. It is unbearable around 1pm. Difficult to sleep before midnight. Maybe Arusha is cooler, I dunno. But here in the Mosh it is a dry, bright heat that sucks your will to live. My eyes hurt. 3 fans on at work. Desire to jog decreasing...I shudder to think what it is like on the Coast at the mo where it is humid as well. Vegetation is reverting to the brown colour that greeted us when we first turned up in March. I saw dust devils swirling in the brown distance on my recent bus ride to Arusha.
Dry and hot.
And this is just the start...apart from the respite of the 'short rains' in November/December, I think it stays hot all the way into next year...sob.
We have a mad plan (yes another) possibly to pop to the desert of Namibia on the way home in March..but if deserts are hotter than where I am now...count me out.
(Look how hot it is as I look out my front door at sunset. Okay, this is Tatooine but believe me, it looks identical to Moshi at the mo)
Monday, October 11, 2010
Pure Gonzo
From Wiki:
Gonzo journalism is a style of journalism that is written subjectively, often including the reporter as part of the story via a first-person narrative.
Gonzo journalism tends to favor style over accuracy and often uses personal experiences and emotions to provide context for the topic or event being covered...Use of quotations, sarcasm, humor, exaggeration, and profanity is common.
I think I was in the middle of some emotive point about something ridiculous on Saturday when a chum said for a second I reminded him of Hunter S Thompson, the father of gonzo journalism. The Hawaiian shirt I had on probably helped the illusion. The comment reminded me of the Journalism paper I did in my last year at varsity. (ps while never a huge fan of Hunter S, I did enjoy The Electric Kool Aid Acid Test by Tom Wolfe.)
As I like to obsess on irrelevant detail long after no one else cares, I have been subsequently thinking about to what extent a person's travel blog could constitute 'gonzo journalism'.
I suppose this blog-if I strain the meaning really hard-could be a form of journalism? It is informing about events, issues and slices of life. I dunno if it is 'gonzo' though. Its not drug addled enough.
But I guess I am the main character of a subjective endeavour. (kicked under table) Ow, my wife is too I suppose. But unlike gonzo, my style is less about a surreal, stream of consciousness monologue and more about the selection of detail, that to me, paints a picture of the madness that goes on here. But the blog IS self indulgent enough to be a form of subjective gonzo-ness I suppose....I dunno...
Maybe this blog is about as relevant as this form of Gonzo:
Off to get 'uppers' ie caffiene
Gonzo journalism is a style of journalism that is written subjectively, often including the reporter as part of the story via a first-person narrative.
Gonzo journalism tends to favor style over accuracy and often uses personal experiences and emotions to provide context for the topic or event being covered...Use of quotations, sarcasm, humor, exaggeration, and profanity is common.
I think I was in the middle of some emotive point about something ridiculous on Saturday when a chum said for a second I reminded him of Hunter S Thompson, the father of gonzo journalism. The Hawaiian shirt I had on probably helped the illusion. The comment reminded me of the Journalism paper I did in my last year at varsity. (ps while never a huge fan of Hunter S, I did enjoy The Electric Kool Aid Acid Test by Tom Wolfe.)
As I like to obsess on irrelevant detail long after no one else cares, I have been subsequently thinking about to what extent a person's travel blog could constitute 'gonzo journalism'.
I suppose this blog-if I strain the meaning really hard-could be a form of journalism? It is informing about events, issues and slices of life. I dunno if it is 'gonzo' though. Its not drug addled enough.
But I guess I am the main character of a subjective endeavour. (kicked under table) Ow, my wife is too I suppose. But unlike gonzo, my style is less about a surreal, stream of consciousness monologue and more about the selection of detail, that to me, paints a picture of the madness that goes on here. But the blog IS self indulgent enough to be a form of subjective gonzo-ness I suppose....I dunno...
Maybe this blog is about as relevant as this form of Gonzo:
Off to get 'uppers' ie caffiene
Maize-d and Confused
It is getting hotter and hotter as October rolls on.
Had another interesting weekend. We’d planned to meet up with the volunteers in Arusha, as well as getting Franatee to a dentist out there. Saturday morning, we jumped on a bus (after walking quickly past a guy smoking a cigarette on top of a petrol tanker...shudder) and were soon in Arusha hip deep in other Kiwis. We all went to the Blue Heron, an upmarket outdoor restaurant and caught up over beers, Bacardi (me) and lunch. By a happy coincidence, a play (in English) was being put on that night at the Arusha Hotel by the ‘Dar Es Salaam Players’ and we had tickets booked. Kudos to the organiser!
It was hours until the play so we decided to get some afternoon exercise. A mini-putt course was fabled to exist in Arusha and we were determined to find it. After a bit of wandering we found it, a 9 hole course at the ‘Le Jacaranda’ hotel. A waiter brought us refreshments (more beer) as we played.
Worst. Course. Ever.
I can only conjecture that the holes were designed by someone with very limited actual mini-putt hours logged. Crazy sheer angles, no room for error (or even a golf ball on some of the slopes) and balls constantly flying out of bounds. But all good fun. The wife beat me by 1 stroke, did a trick shot off a roof and found a tame rabbit to play with, so she was happy.
Are you ‘aving a laff?
After some sushi, it was time for the play. We rolled to the Arusha Hotel, finding it packed with smartly dressed ex-pats...also there for the play I assumed. I felt a little underdressed. Wandering in the hotel, I passed through the ‘Safari Casino Room’ and got flashbacks to my time working in gambling operational policy. Another beer helped calm me down.
Showtime!
As we took our seats amidst the pre-show music playing, I suddenly heard OMC’s ‘How Bizarre’. I went a little crazy hearing that NZ anthem in Africa and started whooping for joy. (did I mention we had been drinking since noon?) Got some right filthy looks we did.
The play was awesome: ‘Bouncers’ an adult drama/comedy dealing with the trials and tribulations of the bouncing scene in Northern England. I think some of the English humour was lost on some of the ex-pat audience, but the Kiwis were laughing uproariously (you can take a man out of the Hutt but...). At one point I brayed with laughter at one crass line, only to realise no one else was laughing (cue second round of filthy looks).
A great show. Any play with ‘Tubthumpin’ by Chumbawumba in the soundtrack is the best play ever.
After a post play drink and debrief, we moved on to ‘Via Via’ a local night club and sat outside with (yes)some more drinks. A couple of MJ songs enticed the wife and I in for a dance. A local Tanzanian who was the friend of one of us turned up and joined us outside.
All aboard...the night train!
Okay.
I dunno which intrepid one amongst first mooted the idea but I have my suspicions. Anyway, it was getting past midnight and one of us suggested that it would be an awesome idea to get in a car and just drive until we found some coast to watch the sunrise. What can I say, alcohol is conducive to enthusiasm. We did however discount the possibility of a late night run across the Kenyan border to the coast of Mombasa.
We discussed the idea of being taxied a relatively short distance outside of the Arusha town limits and waiting in a ‘paddock’ ie on the plains until dawn. I and 3 other kiwis were in. Our Tanzanian friend’s face alternated between bemusement and horror, but he too agreed to come.
My wife (sensibly) decided to sit this one out and get some sleep at a volunteer’s house. She told me she didn’t want to see me get mugged again. I didn’t tell her that it was probably snakes that would be the concern in the wild, rather than muggers.
We rolled back to a house and grabbed blankets and jackets. I had some residual misgivings about the wisdom of this enterprise but the others were really keen and I felt that it was incumbent on me as a mature role model to not deprive the group of the benefit of my sensible, guiding hand. So grabbing a bread knife for protection, I headed out the door.
Our posse contracted an incredulous taxi driver at 1am to drive us out of Arusha to somewhere away from lights where we could see the stars. A short while later we were crashing through a maize field in the dead of the night, moving away from the lights shining from the Arusha airport in the distance. Aside from the distant airport and a couple of lights twinkling from some houses far off it was dark and still.
And cold. I really wish I had had more than just a t-shirt on. While some of our group snored contentedly under jackets, I couldn’t settle on the rocky ground. Plus, I think it was sinking in for our Tanzanian friend that we really did want to stay there until dawn and he was getting a little grouchy and vocal about that.
The sky was a bit cloudy at first, but it soon cleared and we could see stars overhead. The odd bat and owl whirled around overhead. I assume it was an owl, otherwise that was one big freakin’ brown bat that buzzed me. Too cold and wired to sleep, I wandered off from the group for a comfort stop. I did not realise that it is actually hard to find a misplaced group of huddled, sleeping forms again in a maize field. I wandered up and down for about half an hour. Ran into the grouchy Tanzanian who had gotten lost like me. We wandered a bit more calling out ‘Dudes! Dudes!’ before we stumbled across the Kiwis again. I later found out that one of them had heard me calling but thought I was a bandit or something so kept quiet. Dead to me.
Lay there for a while. It was now about 430am and it was still freaking cold. I was shivering like anything. I finally snapped and started huddling in with the unisex sleepers, desperate for body warmth. Don’t tell mke. The guy spooning behind me actually did stop the shivers, even if it was all becoming a little bit like this Heath Ledger movie I once saw:
I didn’t really get to sleep at all; the Tanzanian was still awake and loudly vocalising his views of the wisdom of New Zealanders..finally about 545am Sunday morning it started getting lighter. Around 630am, the horizon went a nice pink/golden colour and directly ahead we had nice silhouette of Mount Meru. I dunno if it was all ‘worth it’ but it was a nice Kodak moment.
(this guy looks less than happy about his night's accommodation)
Then as luck would have it, local workers turned up to work in the maize fields. Awkward. I really don’t know what they made of this gaggle of scruffy wazungu crashed out in the middle of the field, but they smiled as we started trudging for home (stopping briefly to remove a huge furry caterpillar from my back that, apparently, is very poisonous).
We grabbed a dala dala back to Arusha, looking exhausted and clutching our blankets. A quick stop for chai in a local place. The Masaai in there smirked good naturedly at our motley group. I reunited with the wife, bailed on the idea of a dentist for now, said our goodbyes to those krazy kiwis and took the insanely speeding bus home to Moshi.
I was shattered all Sunday, but it was all (PUN ALERT) par for course. Life is beautiful.
Oh the Hu-manatee
This Thursday, the wife and I are off on a travel intensive 4 day safari of the Serengeti. A lot to see and do in a vast area in only a few days. One thing I’d love to see is the annual wildebeest migratory super-herd but I think about now the herd may have crossed the Mara river and is in Kenya, boo. At mke’s insistence (let the record state) we plan to splurge and- all going to plan- do a balloon ride over the plains. Expect photos of lions and a Hindenburg recreation soon.
Had another interesting weekend. We’d planned to meet up with the volunteers in Arusha, as well as getting Franatee to a dentist out there. Saturday morning, we jumped on a bus (after walking quickly past a guy smoking a cigarette on top of a petrol tanker...shudder) and were soon in Arusha hip deep in other Kiwis. We all went to the Blue Heron, an upmarket outdoor restaurant and caught up over beers, Bacardi (me) and lunch. By a happy coincidence, a play (in English) was being put on that night at the Arusha Hotel by the ‘Dar Es Salaam Players’ and we had tickets booked. Kudos to the organiser!
It was hours until the play so we decided to get some afternoon exercise. A mini-putt course was fabled to exist in Arusha and we were determined to find it. After a bit of wandering we found it, a 9 hole course at the ‘Le Jacaranda’ hotel. A waiter brought us refreshments (more beer) as we played.
Worst. Course. Ever.
I can only conjecture that the holes were designed by someone with very limited actual mini-putt hours logged. Crazy sheer angles, no room for error (or even a golf ball on some of the slopes) and balls constantly flying out of bounds. But all good fun. The wife beat me by 1 stroke, did a trick shot off a roof and found a tame rabbit to play with, so she was happy.
Are you ‘aving a laff?
After some sushi, it was time for the play. We rolled to the Arusha Hotel, finding it packed with smartly dressed ex-pats...also there for the play I assumed. I felt a little underdressed. Wandering in the hotel, I passed through the ‘Safari Casino Room’ and got flashbacks to my time working in gambling operational policy. Another beer helped calm me down.
Showtime!
As we took our seats amidst the pre-show music playing, I suddenly heard OMC’s ‘How Bizarre’. I went a little crazy hearing that NZ anthem in Africa and started whooping for joy. (did I mention we had been drinking since noon?) Got some right filthy looks we did.
The play was awesome: ‘Bouncers’ an adult drama/comedy dealing with the trials and tribulations of the bouncing scene in Northern England. I think some of the English humour was lost on some of the ex-pat audience, but the Kiwis were laughing uproariously (you can take a man out of the Hutt but...). At one point I brayed with laughter at one crass line, only to realise no one else was laughing (cue second round of filthy looks).
A great show. Any play with ‘Tubthumpin’ by Chumbawumba in the soundtrack is the best play ever.
After a post play drink and debrief, we moved on to ‘Via Via’ a local night club and sat outside with (yes)some more drinks. A couple of MJ songs enticed the wife and I in for a dance. A local Tanzanian who was the friend of one of us turned up and joined us outside.
All aboard...the night train!
Okay.
I dunno which intrepid one amongst first mooted the idea but I have my suspicions. Anyway, it was getting past midnight and one of us suggested that it would be an awesome idea to get in a car and just drive until we found some coast to watch the sunrise. What can I say, alcohol is conducive to enthusiasm. We did however discount the possibility of a late night run across the Kenyan border to the coast of Mombasa.
We discussed the idea of being taxied a relatively short distance outside of the Arusha town limits and waiting in a ‘paddock’ ie on the plains until dawn. I and 3 other kiwis were in. Our Tanzanian friend’s face alternated between bemusement and horror, but he too agreed to come.
My wife (sensibly) decided to sit this one out and get some sleep at a volunteer’s house. She told me she didn’t want to see me get mugged again. I didn’t tell her that it was probably snakes that would be the concern in the wild, rather than muggers.
We rolled back to a house and grabbed blankets and jackets. I had some residual misgivings about the wisdom of this enterprise but the others were really keen and I felt that it was incumbent on me as a mature role model to not deprive the group of the benefit of my sensible, guiding hand. So grabbing a bread knife for protection, I headed out the door.
Our posse contracted an incredulous taxi driver at 1am to drive us out of Arusha to somewhere away from lights where we could see the stars. A short while later we were crashing through a maize field in the dead of the night, moving away from the lights shining from the Arusha airport in the distance. Aside from the distant airport and a couple of lights twinkling from some houses far off it was dark and still.
And cold. I really wish I had had more than just a t-shirt on. While some of our group snored contentedly under jackets, I couldn’t settle on the rocky ground. Plus, I think it was sinking in for our Tanzanian friend that we really did want to stay there until dawn and he was getting a little grouchy and vocal about that.
The sky was a bit cloudy at first, but it soon cleared and we could see stars overhead. The odd bat and owl whirled around overhead. I assume it was an owl, otherwise that was one big freakin’ brown bat that buzzed me. Too cold and wired to sleep, I wandered off from the group for a comfort stop. I did not realise that it is actually hard to find a misplaced group of huddled, sleeping forms again in a maize field. I wandered up and down for about half an hour. Ran into the grouchy Tanzanian who had gotten lost like me. We wandered a bit more calling out ‘Dudes! Dudes!’ before we stumbled across the Kiwis again. I later found out that one of them had heard me calling but thought I was a bandit or something so kept quiet. Dead to me.
Lay there for a while. It was now about 430am and it was still freaking cold. I was shivering like anything. I finally snapped and started huddling in with the unisex sleepers, desperate for body warmth. Don’t tell mke. The guy spooning behind me actually did stop the shivers, even if it was all becoming a little bit like this Heath Ledger movie I once saw:
I didn’t really get to sleep at all; the Tanzanian was still awake and loudly vocalising his views of the wisdom of New Zealanders..finally about 545am Sunday morning it started getting lighter. Around 630am, the horizon went a nice pink/golden colour and directly ahead we had nice silhouette of Mount Meru. I dunno if it was all ‘worth it’ but it was a nice Kodak moment.
(this guy looks less than happy about his night's accommodation)
Then as luck would have it, local workers turned up to work in the maize fields. Awkward. I really don’t know what they made of this gaggle of scruffy wazungu crashed out in the middle of the field, but they smiled as we started trudging for home (stopping briefly to remove a huge furry caterpillar from my back that, apparently, is very poisonous).
We grabbed a dala dala back to Arusha, looking exhausted and clutching our blankets. A quick stop for chai in a local place. The Masaai in there smirked good naturedly at our motley group. I reunited with the wife, bailed on the idea of a dentist for now, said our goodbyes to those krazy kiwis and took the insanely speeding bus home to Moshi.
I was shattered all Sunday, but it was all (PUN ALERT) par for course. Life is beautiful.
Oh the Hu-manatee
This Thursday, the wife and I are off on a travel intensive 4 day safari of the Serengeti. A lot to see and do in a vast area in only a few days. One thing I’d love to see is the annual wildebeest migratory super-herd but I think about now the herd may have crossed the Mara river and is in Kenya, boo. At mke’s insistence (let the record state) we plan to splurge and- all going to plan- do a balloon ride over the plains. Expect photos of lions and a Hindenburg recreation soon.
Friday, October 8, 2010
"You wanted me...here I am"
After some weeks of trying, yesterday I snapped. I had had enough of a lack of direction on the prioritisation of some training/human rights interventions so I matched into the boss' room yesterday in a Batsuit, put a chair under the door handle and demanded answers in a Batman growl.
The gruff Bat voice and 'tude actually worked wonders. I was given some useful, pragmatic advice as to what the NGO really needs me to deliver at this point in time. Groovy. Now if only mke can get some direction too...
Off to Arusha for the weekend. Bat Justice is needed there (no Slovenians are going to rough up my boys)and I need some Springboks (a shot, half green liquor, half brown cream).
NB-80% of the above really happened.
The gruff Bat voice and 'tude actually worked wonders. I was given some useful, pragmatic advice as to what the NGO really needs me to deliver at this point in time. Groovy. Now if only mke can get some direction too...
Off to Arusha for the weekend. Bat Justice is needed there (no Slovenians are going to rough up my boys)and I need some Springboks (a shot, half green liquor, half brown cream).
NB-80% of the above really happened.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Baron Dougchausen
"He won't get far on hot air and fantasy."
A public servant, The Adventures of Baron Munchhausen
Someone remarked to me the other day that they were unsure whether my recent Facebook status updates were fictitious or not. I remember a similar queries from people when I got back from South Africa in 2008 asking me which elements really happened and which ones did not. Um, sorry my trip wasn't more dull..
It bugs me a little because while I enjoy a good yarn, I am not a complete fantasist I am no outrageous fraud or teller of tall tales, I am a sober, quiet volunteer; I am not Baron Dougchausen! (Okay, but I do love that film and I do hope to be in a hot air balloon at some point soon.)
Ahem.
Obviously, a Blog selects or highlights some events and omits others. I have not written an extensive blog about getting a haircut or brushing my teeth. Okay, well I did write an entry about getting a haircut. But I do select events/thoughts of interest both for any readers (all 2 of you) and as a memory jog for myself for when I get home. I do like to put a lot of quirky, factual detail in the blog cos that is what I want to remember myself later.
So rest assured, colourful prose aside, events depicted here all happened. I did get mugged and was in a car crash in the same weekend. I have swum with a sea snake. I did have a hawk steal my cake. My wife did barge through a procession of prisoners. I did get woken up by an elephant ripping up the vegetation outside my lodge. I did headbutt an Aussie woman by mistake on the dance floor who then tried to pull my shirt off...um forget that one.
Of course you are free to disbelieve me. But for serious, this is just Africa. Stuff happens here. Good stuff, bad stuff, insane stuff. That's what drew me here in the first place instead of a year's secondment at Paper Plus on Jackson Street, Petone.
Believe me, it is all wretchedly tiring. I'm starting to look forward to some normality.
But if I say-for example-last night I got lost on a dusk jog and ended up walking through a secondary school packed with hooting, laughing students (a prizegiving on or something?) my Ipod earphones trailing behind me in disgrace....it's just what happened...but I will do my level best to be more uneventful.
A public servant, The Adventures of Baron Munchhausen
Someone remarked to me the other day that they were unsure whether my recent Facebook status updates were fictitious or not. I remember a similar queries from people when I got back from South Africa in 2008 asking me which elements really happened and which ones did not. Um, sorry my trip wasn't more dull..
It bugs me a little because while I enjoy a good yarn, I am not a complete fantasist I am no outrageous fraud or teller of tall tales, I am a sober, quiet volunteer; I am not Baron Dougchausen! (Okay, but I do love that film and I do hope to be in a hot air balloon at some point soon.)
Ahem.
Obviously, a Blog selects or highlights some events and omits others. I have not written an extensive blog about getting a haircut or brushing my teeth. Okay, well I did write an entry about getting a haircut. But I do select events/thoughts of interest both for any readers (all 2 of you) and as a memory jog for myself for when I get home. I do like to put a lot of quirky, factual detail in the blog cos that is what I want to remember myself later.
So rest assured, colourful prose aside, events depicted here all happened. I did get mugged and was in a car crash in the same weekend. I have swum with a sea snake. I did have a hawk steal my cake. My wife did barge through a procession of prisoners. I did get woken up by an elephant ripping up the vegetation outside my lodge. I did headbutt an Aussie woman by mistake on the dance floor who then tried to pull my shirt off...um forget that one.
Of course you are free to disbelieve me. But for serious, this is just Africa. Stuff happens here. Good stuff, bad stuff, insane stuff. That's what drew me here in the first place instead of a year's secondment at Paper Plus on Jackson Street, Petone.
Believe me, it is all wretchedly tiring. I'm starting to look forward to some normality.
But if I say-for example-last night I got lost on a dusk jog and ended up walking through a secondary school packed with hooting, laughing students (a prizegiving on or something?) my Ipod earphones trailing behind me in disgrace....it's just what happened...but I will do my level best to be more uneventful.
It aint always doom and gloom
(A happy moment at one of our village HIV support groups)
List of positive things that happened today:
-The new cycle route to work is scenic. It goes through a nice tree lined area past the cheeky kids at the local school and the awe struck younger tykes (at the madly peddling white guy) at the local kindy.
-Lunch today was tasty-pilaf rice and lentils
-Saw 3 hornbills (why always in 3's?) race over on a walk
-Heard another update that a young HIV positive client I intervened with a while ago is doing extremely well.
-Helped a co-worker draft his performance appraisal material. He's stoked. He's a hard worker and has a big family, I hope he gets a well earned raise.
-Our new monitoring & evaluation officer (his second day) seems switched on and enthusiastic, awesome!
-And last but not least, having an email convo with a mate back home (our timezones must have matched briefly) planning the EPIC party the wife and I are going to have when we return to the Petone house in 2011. I say we trash it and blame the damages on the tenants, Bwaa haa haaa
There is no passion to be found playing small - in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living.
Nelson Mandela
Sunday, October 3, 2010
What would Phil Collins do?
She calls out to the man on the street
Sir, can you help me?
Phil Collins 'Another Day in Paradise'
Just once, a totally quiet weekend would be nice. Saturday was an awesomely sunny day, so decided to do a solo run first thing in morning, while wifey chilled and made pancakes. Did a nice 45 minute run ended up in the ward of Karanga with a stunning view of Kili over a river valley (to the soundtrack of the randomly shuffled stirring Lord of the Rings sounds on the Ipod). Karanga is where the big local prison is located. That could have explained the sullen looking guy in orange prison overalls hiding in the bushes? I just jogged a bit faster past him...
Got home, chucked on a Hawaiian shirt, despite wifey saying it made me look too touristy then rolled into town to meet friends for a coffee. As we discussed where the wildebeest migration is currently located(in the north of the Serengeti heading south if you must know),I thought my toasted cheese sandwich which tasted a bit...odd...
We then wanted to get a plunger for our toilet/shower combo (don't ask). Wandered into a random hardware store. The twitchy Tanzanian/Asian guy running the store proceeded to give the wife and I a detailed lecture on the drug trade in Moshi, how his competitors were fronts for drug barons etc etc. He showed us his helpful hand written notes on various conspiracies for our 'education'. Just the plunger, dude, just the plunger.
No sooner do we escape that nutbar, than (with the wife trailing behind) I happen upon 4 guys at a Vodacom stand on the path surrounding a girl. One of the guys is twisting her arm back. Her expression and noises do not indicate she is enjoying it. I made a loud 'Oi' noise and stared at them. They let her go a bit then started making smirking tough guy noises at me. Guess the Hawaiian shirt made me look a bit too much like an outsider. I just wish they coulda said what was going on, instead of trying to save face or something. Maybe she was caught stealing something? But it looked more like a domestic thing...then again it coulda been a scheme to distract us to take money off us.
As we were on a main street, people were everywhere and the Police station was just opposite the road, I slowly wandered on. But I wasn't happy just to walk off. In NZ I would expect the person holding the girl to clarify WHY he was doing it. However locals I've talked to since have said I did the right thing...a lone white guy starting a fight with 4 Tanzanians could end badly. A local told me last year a young American in Arusha tried to intervene as a thief snatched a handbag from a tourist and was stabbed with a long screwdriver several times...Luckily he lived..
So yeah, gotta be careful about interventions here.
So didn't sleep too well that night, brooding on that, noises outside the house of toy dogs scrapping, people walking past. Plus I developed a bit of food poisoning (thanks to the odd tasting cheese sandwich). Well the day started off as a good day...
Next day, I felt ill so kept a low profile. Did go for one wander late in the day where we saw...well I'll let the wife explain:
"On the walk home from an attempted visit to a friend's place I saw a dark green and black spotted chameleon on the footpath. I urged Doug to stop so we could check it out. It looked like it was injured as the side of it's mouth looked a bit crusty. I immediately named the creature 'Velveteen.' Since language school I've begun a practice of naming chameleons after types of fabric. 'Chambrey' who we met on the lawn of language school was our first encounter with a chameleon.
I picked up Velveteen and he crawled over mine and Doug's hands. He was so cute! Doug and I debated whether based on his injuries we should take him home and care for him or whether we should just leave him put. I was a bit concerned about how we'd manage to catch enough food for him each day. However, moments later Velveteen gave us the answer - he stretched up his little front legs, as if climbing in mid air, in the direction of the nearest tree. We popped him up there, wished him well, as he started to turn the colour of the tree trunk and headed home."
Postscript:
Velveteen went on to become a DJ in Tanzania, the first representative of the Chamaeleonidae family to do so. He specifically thanked Franatee at his first big gig.
Friday, October 1, 2010
All roads lead to the Mile
We have green lino in our new flat. You can watch the green floor go through from the Kitchen/Dinning Area to the Lounge, to the Bedroom and then the Toilet/Shower Combo. I have thought at least once before it reminds me of the movie 'The Green Mile.'
Now stay with me.
I crafted a gigantic Child Protection/Abuse Manual/Document/Staff Workbook thing months ago. Shout out to mke for her common sense input/review. It has sat with the boss in silence for a long time. I tried to get feedback on it but not a peep. I thought maybe it was too dense or un-user friendly or something. Then suddenly a week ago, I found it had been passed (without me knowing, tut) onto a UNICEF contact for their input...so I promptly got in touch with the UNICEF person. Good to have someone else to look at it.
Stay with me.
We have had a couple of Kenyans here the past week from our Kenyan (duh) office giving input into a big EU project that's underway. I haven't had too much to do with them...except...I must say...one of them is a huge guy who looks exactly like the character John Coffey from...that's right, The Green Mile.
So I'm working at my desk Friday afternoon, when this giant bear man suddenly appears and starts telling me (in a booming baritone) how he has to go now but Kenya is really excited about my 'child document'. And WHACK he gives me this big CLAP on the back. He says he can't wait to see it, great work, I need to come to Nairobi immediately etc etc. I'm just blinking and smiling nervously as his huge paw claps up and down on my tender back....as he leaves he hands me a business card and his name has the initials 'J.O' But the second letter of his last name is a 'C'...its almost J.C!!
From silence, to UNICEF to The Green Mile. I'm ecstatic to get some movement on a big piece of work, thank you John Coffey!
Now stay with me.
I crafted a gigantic Child Protection/Abuse Manual/Document/Staff Workbook thing months ago. Shout out to mke for her common sense input/review. It has sat with the boss in silence for a long time. I tried to get feedback on it but not a peep. I thought maybe it was too dense or un-user friendly or something. Then suddenly a week ago, I found it had been passed (without me knowing, tut) onto a UNICEF contact for their input...so I promptly got in touch with the UNICEF person. Good to have someone else to look at it.
Stay with me.
We have had a couple of Kenyans here the past week from our Kenyan (duh) office giving input into a big EU project that's underway. I haven't had too much to do with them...except...I must say...one of them is a huge guy who looks exactly like the character John Coffey from...that's right, The Green Mile.
So I'm working at my desk Friday afternoon, when this giant bear man suddenly appears and starts telling me (in a booming baritone) how he has to go now but Kenya is really excited about my 'child document'. And WHACK he gives me this big CLAP on the back. He says he can't wait to see it, great work, I need to come to Nairobi immediately etc etc. I'm just blinking and smiling nervously as his huge paw claps up and down on my tender back....as he leaves he hands me a business card and his name has the initials 'J.O' But the second letter of his last name is a 'C'...its almost J.C!!
From silence, to UNICEF to The Green Mile. I'm ecstatic to get some movement on a big piece of work, thank you John Coffey!
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