Stuffing and Bathing Suits: Happy Thanksgiving to Me!

The Thanksgiving holiday this year was interesting-a vastly different environment, yet not without some of the usual accoutrements that typically accompany this day. I was slightly bummed to be missing my family celebration this year, but not bummed enough to stay home. Turkey in West Virginia vs. Wild Animals in Africa.....that is a no-brainer for me. Having said that, when Thursday found us waking at 5 AM, mumbling a Thanksgiving day greeting to each other, and once more hauling our stuff into a waiting bus, I felt a touch of the holiday funk start to wash over me. This was soon to be displaced, albeit temporarily, by outright fear for my life on the bus ride. If you have not done so already, please read the previous post for a breakdown of bus rides in Tanzania. Then you can come back.

So there we were, all settled in for the eight hour ride to Morogoro. It is hot as Hades, cramped (remember, I am sharing the seat with a man twice my size) and I am hungry. Longingly, I think of the feast at home and my family around the table. This is my first holiday being engaged, and not only am I not there, I am not even sure that a telephone call to Adam will be in my imminent future. Oh dear. Will he think I forgot about him? Surely, he knows that I will still.....oh wait! We just nearly had a head-on collision with another large bus, and my bus driver's head is drooping. This reverie is postponed until later when I can stop the ceaseless prayers.

After eight sweaty, cramped, hungry, thirsty hours, we arrive in Morogoro to a chaotic scene of buses, taxis, and touts. There is lots of yelling and shouting from people who desperately want us to choose their taxi for the next leg of our journey. I am not in the mood for this. We don't see our friend, so we have no choice but to take a taxi to the center of town to find the supermarket because that is near where the internet cafe is and we need the internet to find the number of either our friend or the farm at which we are staying and then we need to find a phone so that we can attempt to enjoy what is left of this day.   That is exactly how the thoughts were running in my head. A shower and a meal seemed a dismal prospect. Thanksgiving joy? Forget it.

Then, in the time it has taken me to write these few paragraphs, the tide of gloom turned to a veritable fountain (or maybe just a spray) of happiness. We found some mango juice next to the internet cafe and followed that up with some ice cream at the supermarket. With sugar coursing through my body, the world was looking much better. Armed with the telephone number we needed, a random and very nice man let us use his cell phone without even charging us. (Completely off topic: if you ever need to use a phone in Tanzania, it is usually no problem as long as it is domestic. Many Tanzanians will let you use their cell phone if you compensate them anywhere from .50-$2).  Then came our crowning moment of the day, the moment that defined this day and now graces the title of this post. Katy, our friend and contact in country, arrived in her air-conditioned vehicle, bearing the news that not only had she prepared stuffing to accompany dinner, but that there was a pool at the place we were staying! This last piece of information was met with brief exultation until we all realized that we had left our bathing suits at her home three hours away. Spirits down. Spirits jubilantly high when she informed us that she had brought them with her and the pool was ours for the taking!

So, to sum up, it was not my usual Thanksgiving in many respects. It was, however, one for the memory books. The menu was mostly the same. I was beyond thrilled when I was able to eat real mashed potatoes swimming in a delicious pool of gravy. The stuffing? Amazing. Just like at home, I did have to take a long ride in a vehicle to get to dinner, although the two hours in my clean, roomy, temperature-controlled car does not quite compare to this year's ride. That is probably where the similarities end though. I do not ever recall swooning in near ecstasy over the prospect of swimming before dinner (at least at that time of year) or the presence of stuffing.  Sitting around the candlelit table that evening under the African sky, I wished I could preserve the contentment of the occasion. There was great food, new people to make friends with, and old friends with whom to chalk up another treasured memory. I knew that next year would bring a different happiness, another type of gratification-I will have a husband to call family by then.  Yet, for that moment, I just wanted to relish the warm glow of my African Thanskgiving.

This is what I find funny....

I took lots of pictures in Tanzania. Many of those will never see the light of day again. Others, I am pretty darn impressed with. And these? Well these have a special category all of their own. They all make me laugh just by looking at them. Some of you may understand why at first glance; others of you will just have to wonder at my sense of humor. Either way, enjoy and make up a caption if you wish! The best captions will be posted under the picture in a separate blog entry,with your name and a link to your blog or website- once I figure out how to actually do that. I am having some technical issues today, which is why you are not reading this paragraph until halfway down the page.

Joy O' Public Transit

Backpacking across a continent or country inherently means that a chunk of your time will be in spent in transit. Presumably, if you are backpacking, you are doing it on a shoestring budget. Which means, go as the locals go. That could be by bus, train, boat, tuk-tuk, dalla-dalla, combi, or your own two feet. This most recent trip to Tanzania was absolutely no exception. We spent some quality time on large, non-airconditioned, dirty buses, packed with people and luggage. As I was bumping along on an 8 hour ride from Arusha to Morogoro Thanksgiving day, I pondered that the only good thing about these long rides is that it gives me a chance to catch a glimpse of life  in whatever location I happen to find myself. In Tanzania, I watched snippets of routine unfold before me-market day, washing day, meeting day, and  "rush hour" all provided colorful explanations of the routine of daily living.

Let me stop there. For that is the ONLY, I repeat ONLY positive attribute of such a ride. Did I mention that many of the vessels of transit I have taken over the years are veritable deathtraps? Again, Tanzania was no exception. For example, hurtling along in a large bus, indiscrimanately passing other buses, cars, bicycles, goat herds and crowds of small children found me sitting with my heart in my throat. These were not interstates we were traveling upon. No, these were paved (barely) roads with tight curves,  no markings, no lane boundaries, no shoulder, nothing. Everyone uses these roads to get where they are going in whatever type of transportation they can muster. Consequently, it's an obstacle course of roadblocks. At least, that is how our driver apparently saw them as he whipped past TODDLERS on the side of the road! Speaking of the driver, he also chugged several Red Bulls during the course of this ride, presumably to stay awake. That became my assumption just after I had the misfortune of looking in his rearview mirror and seeing his eyes and head drooping. This is the point in our journey when the prayers heavenward were amplified with a quickness. To complete this situation, we passed not one, not two, but three major accidents involving tractor trailers turned over on their side in a twisted heap of metal and wreckage. Not a comfort as we zoomed past. I was also sharing a seat with a man twice my size, which was a welcome relief after the woman three times my size attempted to wedge herself in beside me. It was sweltering, I was sweaty and filthy, I couldn't move, and fear for my life was in abundance. In spite of all this though, (or perhaps because of) I wouldn't do it any other way. The exposure to life in Tanzania (or Bangladesh, or Costa Rica, or wherever) even from a bus window, is well worth the discomfort and the pittance fare. Happy Thanksgiving to me!

Oh, What a Wonderful World!

Never in my life have I witnessed unparalled beauty, splendor, and raw majesty in nature. Truly humbling. The vistas of the Ngorongoro Crater are magnificent, testament to the work of a Creator. Quietly observing the rhythm of routine was a privilege that I may never encounter again.

My favorite part? Watching the Discovery Channel unfold in front of my eyes as two cheetahs, slinking through the grass, stalked a giant herd of wildebeests and a smattering of zebras. They were trying to play it cool-advancing a few yards and then frolicking and rolling around as if they were merely out for a stroll and not their lunch. The intent to kill was obvious to all who were watching, but not to the happily munching  herbivores.

Inexplicably, the cheetahs gave up after a time and stalked back towards us. This was good for our cameras and of course, the wildebeests. I actually found myself a bit disappointed though. My heart had been pounding, wondering if I was going to see the circle of life in action. My disappointment caused me to ponder just exactly how I went from "accidentally" letting fish go uncaught when fishing with Adam, to hoping to see blood and gore on the Crater floor. How is this even possible? I attribute it to the heat of the moment....when in Africa, do as they do. Or something. Those cheetahs were things of beauty-sleek bodies and proud faces. Later, a faint rainbow peeking through the mist solidified my contentment with this adventure. Oh, what a wonderful world!