The lion does not sleep tonight. Because in fact, he is pacing around our campsite letting out a low rumbling grumbling noise that lets every petrified person in their tent know that this would be in fact, a very bad time to get up and use the bathroom. The hyenas and the baboons are also the culprits of mischievous behavior in the campsite once the sun goes to bed.
For everyone who has ever seen "Out of Africa" or "The Lion King" or an animal planet special on this country then you will be able to picture the scene I am trying to paint. This is the land of broad and brilliant azure skies, of sweeping blonde grasslands bending gently in the temperate equatorial breeze that whispers across the Serengeti. It is the land of colorful kengas wrapped around smiling women, of acacia trees and music. The land of hakuna matatas and an extraordinary life lived in the shadow of Kilimanjaro.
On our five-day safari we made our way across lake Manyara filled with thousands of flamingos and cranes taking advantage of the 3 inch deep "lake" before it dries up completely for the season. We watched the sun burst onto the horizon of the Serengeti, we camped on the edge of the lush green Ngorogoro crater and we saw animals. Lots of animals. Zebras grazing, giraffes fighting, elephants pushing over trees for food, baboons nursing, hippos bathing, rare black rhinos walking, cheetahs lounging, a leopard perching, vultures circling and gazelles bounding along seemingly free of gravity. We watched a lioness patiently stalk a thompson gazelle (which outran her in the end). We saw cubs nuzzling their father with his great mane and as the piece de resistance we had an entire pride of lions surround the Land Rover to borrow some shade. There were so many and they were up against the bumpers, doors and under the wheels so we were stuck and could not move! It was both breath taking and nerve racking because I’m pretty sure a little piece of glass wouldn't have stopped a hungry animal if he had wanted a snack. And as a matter of fact just three weeks before we arrived, a land rover got stuck in a shallow river it was trying to cross. The people finally got out to push it and when they did, a lion came out of nowhere and attacked a Swiss woman who was helping. Then another night, a ranger guarding a lodge went missing and they found his head 2 weeks later. Lion chow-mein. Good grief.
A weem-o-wap... a-weem a-wop... a weem-owap.... in the jungle the mighty jungle...
From an animal watching- nature loving, spectacular landscape perspective, the safari was incredible. From a gut tearing, girardia perspective it was a little rough on me but nothing some drugs from a medicine woman couldn't tackle. Hakuna matata. Our Tanzanian adventures however had begun well before we ever set out on safari. Coming from Rwanda, we flew to Nairobi and then planned to take a 6-hour bus the next day to Arusha. The flight was smooth but I did have a bit of a pit in my stomach because I had heard nothing but bad things about “Nai-robbery” since the minute we got to Africa. Stories of muggings, killings and car jackings are rampant here. Fortunately Sharon’s friend Simon (a Tanzanian fellow and member of the Christian Brothers' organization) picked us up from the airport. He was friendly and very warm and generous with a wonderful energy and wearing a constant smile. He took us to the Christian Brothers' house out in the countryside and on the way we passed miles of some the poorest shantytown type settlements that I have ever seen. We drove along rural roads and finally came to the gate of the simple and austere Christian Brothers' house. The Brother's fed us a wonderful lunch and gave us rooms for the night. We debated for a while whether to take the early morning bus at 8am or sleep in a little, have breakfast and then get the 1pm bus. Finally we decided on the 8am bus. Simon dropped us at the bus station early the next morning and then he returned home.
At 11:30 am, four armed men burst through the Christian Brothers' front door. They held guns to their heads, beat Simon up and robbed the brothers' of everything they owned. They then locked them in the bathroom and went to the seminary next door and did the same thing. Fortunately no one was killed. Angelo, Sharon and I fear that the electricians who were there the previous day saw us come in with our bags. It’s probable the whole thing happened because the Brothers took us in. We put them in real danger. When Simon wrote Sharon to tell her of the incident he asked her to pray for the Brothers who were quite shaken up as well as the men who robbed them.
Arusha, Tanzania is the jumping off point for tourists going on safari and then off to climb Kilimanjaro. It is also the city nearest to the little village that Sharon lived in for the past couple of years. You can get to Engo Sheraton by bumping along a narrow dirt road in a packed out dala dala (a minivan meant to seat 10 that somehow fits 30. People are hanging off the sides, the back, and sitting on each others' laps.) When everyone piles in the ladies hand their babies to whoever has a free hand, the children in their school uniforms climb onto any open lap and the driver stops whenever someone waves their hand to get on or bangs on the roof to get off. Brilliant!
We stayed at her old house (owned by the Christian Brothers' and lived in by their volunteer teachers) which is simple concrete construction surrounded by mud huts. This buoma (little cluster of houses) is inhabited by the Moshumba family. The children went crazy when they saw Sharon come back, mama Elias shrieked and laughed and wouldn't let go of her. Super fun to watch. All over this little village people remembered and knew Sharon. The women selling vegetables, the people in the mud huts and of course all the school children. On the walk each day from the school back home we would be walking on a small dirt trail through 10 ft.high corn fields, over creeks and hills. The women would look up from their laundry and call to Sharon, the kids would come running out of their houses for her. Ms. Tao is indeed the rock star of Engo Sheraton. Or as I like to call it- Engo Sharon’s Town. The teachers at the school ran to greet her in tears and in laughter. It’s easy to see why she fell in love with this place. And like in Rwanda, the kids are gorgeous and smiling, if not a little shyer here. They are sweet and lovely and it breaks my heart to hear the volunteers say that it's not uncommon to have kids fainting on the playground (and by that I mean dirt field) because they have not eaten in so long.
We also went to the orphanage she lived at during her first 3 months in Africa. I cannot believe she lived there because despite the colorful paint on the wall and the sweet children, there is no clean water, the flies are everywhere, it sits beside a massive garbage dump, and the head mistress is an incredibly corrupt woman who pockets much of the aid meant for the kids. It was pretty bleak but somehow the children were laughing anyway and playing with the soccer balls they made by tying rubbish together with string. When we got there we met a 2-year-old little girl named Sabrina who had just arrived at the orphanage last week. She was beautiful and sassy and wouldn't let go of Angelo. We came pretty damn close to bringing her home but unfortunately foreign adoptions are illegal in Tanzania (yes, we actually did check).
For me though, one of the most amazing things about being in Tanzania was just driving along and seeing the Masaai people statuesque and willowy walking for eternities coated in layers of checkered cloths flapping in the wind and draped in heavy beaded jewelry. For endless expanses they move, carrying their walking sticks, their long ebony spindles of legs peeking out from under their robes. These beautiful ancient people wear pieces of rubber tires (as in Good Year) strapped to their feet and eat absolutely nothing in the world other than cow. They drink cow blood and eat the meat raw. No chicken, no goat, no veggies. Nothing. My kinda diet.
But all of this was not enough action for Angelo because the day after we got back from safari, Angelo made the decision to climb Kilimanjaro. An excursion that would involve 6 days, 20,000ft, a guide, six porters, -25 degree weather and 1 pair of RENTED HIKING BOOTS. My strong, stubborn, brave and beautiful husband summited Mt. Kilimanjaro on August 6, our one-year anniversary. He said it was the hardest thing he has ever done but that the vista from the summit was beyond words. I am so proud of him. And even though I was busy drinking pina coladas on the beach, I can assure you all we were both on top of the world. Our first year as a Mr. & Mrs. has been nothing short of magic.
So while he finished up his ascent to the heavens, Sharon and I relaxed on the white ash beaches and in the turquoise waters of Zanzibar. This spice island is thick with the scents of cardamom and saffron and has a unique middle-eastern and African feel all at once. The thatched huts, beach hammocks and cold beers were a wonderful way to end our time in Tanzania and Angelo made it here a few days later.
We have definitely gotten to experience Africa’s greatest hits plus more. Our time in Africa has truly been amazing both because it is a place that has the power to move people but also because Sharon has made it possible for us to get WAY off the beaten path and actually meet and get to know the people here. She is such a brave and beautiful person, and we are lucky beyond words to have had this time here with her.
kwa hari and asante sanaxxxnala & simba
