As a small start to a blog that has been started many adventures too late, I’d like to introduce my very first blog post. I am quite settled in my short-time home location of Arusha, Tanzania. I will do my very best to try and reiterate what I have done thus far on my journey here, although I imagine I’ll miss things as I have a lot to catch up on.
Luckily I have a glass of Balance, South African wine on my bedside table to accompany me as I make an effort to remember my journey thus far.
It all began at 4:30 a.m. at the Piedmont Triad “International” Airport. I hardly got sleep the night before anticipating the long 23 hour trek to Kilimanjaro Airport in Tanzania. I remember telling my mom and dad in the car that morning that I was unsure whether I had even slept the night before. I had my 70lb bag, a mountain pack, my Jimmy bear, and a smile on my face as I waiting in security waving to my momma and tired daddy. I handed my passport to the TSA guard, entered security and I was on my way.
HERE I GO...
From Greensboro I traveled to Washington, and Washington to Ethiopia.
In Ethiopia I was greeted by a chilling rain, and a stairway off the plane into the airport. I was then instructed to go through another security check. After a long
TWO hours in the line, and a marriage proposal by the security guard I was off to board my last plane to my final destination. There were more butterflies in my stomach than are found in a butterfly conservatory. After a final safety brief from the flight attendants, and a long deep sleep, I touched down in my new home. Suddenly everything became real. The Tanzanian flag was waving in front of the small orange airport known as JRO. It was there that I met the Elective Africa coordinator, Phabian. I had been traveling for an hour short of a full day, but felt more alive than ever.
After an hour drive I had arrived at the Premier Apartments. Once the gates opened (it is a gated complex) there stood seven other students that would be staying with me in the apartments! They were heading to a local orphanage, and I was determined to pull myself together and go. I quickly set my bags in my room, put on a fresh pair of pants, met our cleaning and cooking staff and ran back down to meet the others.
On the car ride to the orphanage, I found out so much about my new hometown—some bad, some good. I got the low down very quick and I was glad to have experienced souls fill me in on the ins and outs of Arusha.
Upon arriving at the orphanage we were greeted with open arms by 35 children. I immediately took one into my arms overwhelmed by his happy face. It is not often that people come to love on these children, so when they have other to embrace their presence the fire in their hearts burns so bright.
During our time there we skipped rope, played wall ball, and introduced the kids to games played in our countries (duck-duck goose, ring around the rosie, etc.). Isaac, the orphanage coordinator, then asked the kids to sing for us. I have attached the video of one of the many performances they put on. Lastly we got a tour of the orphanage, which tore my heart into two. The 35 kids were split into two rooms at bedtime; the boy’s room didn’t come with a mattress. Their room for learning was a small room with four pews, and a small chalkboard with the numbers 1-10 written in English. The room connected to the learning room was empty, and meant to house the young children while the others were being taught. My perspective on life was dramatically altered that day, and much different than it has ever been altered before.
The orphanage was the first bit of African culture that I had seen, and it was something I had expected to see in a movie, not in my own life. On a happier note, we will return to the orphanage tomorrow with loads of goodies. We plan to plant trees with the little boys and girls. I cannot wait to see the little kids and share pee-pee (candy) with them.
I ought to quickly mention that people drink here, just like anywhere. We took a trip to a bar known as Bar 40/40, and took shots. Not normal shots, however, these were shots on fire.
In America (at least at all the bars I’ve been too) the shot is blown out before it is taken. Not in Africa, not at Bar 40/40. We, my friend Mike and I, were instructed to take the shots while lit.
This ended with the fantastic aroma of burnt hair, and green stains of Sambucca on my shirt, and Mikes. In a matter of one second, I managed to burn my hair, burn my right eyelashes to mere stubs, and spill the green shot on my own shit and Mikes.
The next day I slept until 1 p.m.
On August 11th we left for a safari. We were to travel three parks: Tarangire, Ngorongoro Crater, and Lake Manyara. To be honest it would be a disaster for me to try and write out the adventures of last weekend for a few reasons: 1. Each day came equipped with loads of funny, embarrassing, interesting, dirty, silly, smelly stories 2. I have already forgotten a number of things, and 3. This wine is getting past my blood brain barrier all too fast. So let me give you the highlights.
The first day we drove from Arusha to Tarangire. Sophie was attacked by a monkey after Adam tried to coax it into taking a selfie with him. The little babe left paw prints on her knee. My sides ached afterwards because I had such a good laugh.
That night we were taken to the place where we would be staying two nights. We arrived at 3 p.m. for coffee and tea, and at 7 p.m. we were given a three course meal.
Did I mention the abundance of banana trees here in Arusha? It is a very popular cash crop here as they are everywhere.
On the first day of safari I had six—six full bananas.
On the second day of safari all the magic happened. We saw many animals, including a simba (lion) that was a short 6 ft or 1.84 meters away. Sophie cried, and Joy screamed shit about 36 times as she attempted a video of the lion we named mufasa walk slowly and carefully across the tall savannah grass. I also must add that the lunches packed for us during our safari journey took me back to elementary school lunches. We were given an assortment of a few snacks… oranges, bananas, mystery meat, strange stuffed pockets, eggs, and muffins among other foods. Heather always begged for the eggs, Sophie the strange stuffed pockets, and I the bananas. Lunch was similar to a trading post for medical interns/volunteers on safari. The last spontaneous story worth sharing is the topless safari, which entails just what the title implies. Denise, a fun, lovable nurse from the U.K., offered the idea and upon leaving Ngorongoro Crater National Park we decided to go topless in the back of our safari car. It was invigorating, up until the other safari car in our group rounded a curve and suddenly appeared at our car’s rear. We screamed, became weak at the knees and rummaged through the backseat looking for our bras and shirts while laughing so hard we could barely speak. Our safari car driver, Alpha, was having a laughing fit so hard that his head was down on the wheel, with tears in his eyes. Joy, another nurse from the U.K., said it is a miracle we made it out alive without a crash. We had a bit too much fun at night, which we can blame on Tanzanaia’s famous Konyagi gin, and the thrill of being around a bonfire on the outskirts of a safari park full of wild animals.
The third day was a struggle to start. The animals were few, and we were dirty and smelly. After our familiar lunch trades we were back to ourselves.
After lunch there were still very few animals to see, so we decided to talk through a fantasied savannah social hierarchy of the animals we saw. For example, according to our imaginations, the elephants are the wise ones, the giraffes are the goofy doctors, the flamingos are the sorority girls, and the warthogs are the frat boys… it was a good convo I swear. We ended the day with a couple of markets and a trip to a barred liquor store in a local village.
All in all, my very favorite part of the safari was the time I had in the safari car with the girls: Heather, Sophie, Joy and Denise… And of course Alpha. I don’t believe I have ever laughed six hours straight for three days in a row, until I embarked on this safari trip. Joy, whom I knew for a short four days, made such an impression. She is most definitely the most vulgar person I have met, but also the funniest person I have ever met… the things that burst out of her mouth are new each time: “fuck a duck,” “back-skuttle,” “Bob is your uncle, Fanny is your aunt,” “you’re getting on my tits” “givin’ it large” We’ll all miss her in the house… Denate too, of course!
Today. Finally. Because I don’t have much more wine to fuel this post.
Heather, Ben, and I received the okay to begin in the hospital thanks to Dr. Mlay (after a 200$ work visa, and a 125$ fee paid to the hospital)… Ouch.
We have been placed in the laboratory for the first week, and today started our cultural experience of a hospital outside of a developed country. We were led around the ward, from microbiology, to “chemistry”, to our final location of phlebotomy.
Straightaway we were labeling vials, being told to find the best vein, and wrapping the tourniquet around the arm of the vein we’d draw from. Before we knew it we were being asked to stick, and draw blood all on our own. Heather was the first to make the bold move, and she did a beautiful job. She gave me the courage to try for myself. Next up was a young man (birthday unknown), by the name of Krukra Muhammad. I decided I would make my move and attempt to draw from him. My arm was shaking, but I knew I could do it. I found the vein, tightened the tourniquet, rubbed antiseptic on the arm, and took a deep breath. Complete dud. The man was in pain, I asked for help, and proceeded to remove the needle. I felt like I had failed until I watched three other nurses try to draw blood without success. Of all 30 patients that came to phlebotomy today certainly I would choose that man to make my very first attempt. I only hear my moms voice, “we learn best from our failures.”
On the bright side we all proficiently labeled vials, conducted malaria tests, and completed medical investigation notes. It was a good day, with high hopes of learning even more tomorrow. We will be heading to the hospital at 8 a.m. We were told we would be on our own tomorrow… My next blog may be a bit juicy!
My wine is out, and I need rest.
Goodnight, and Tutao Nana Kasho (This was my phrase of the day)
