Friday, July 29, 2011

reverse culture shock

my current anthem: Dully Sykes's Bongo Fleva

Yesterday, Savita, Manan and I woke up and boarded our Turkish Airlines flight to JFK and arrived in the city at 2:35 pm. We came back to a rude airport employee yelling at the non-native visitors of the country to learn how to listen and to get into a line. It was so unnecessary since going down the escalators would bring them to the visitors' line to get through customs. What a first impression to leave them. What a homecoming. Aarati picked us up and drove me to Port Authority, and I met up with Jessie at Schnipper's for a veggie burger before getting on the bus to NJ.

People ask me about my trip and I never know what to say because I am unsure how specific they want me to be. It is frustrating for me to start telling a story and to have it interrupted or feel like I have been talking too much. I have always been better at writing than speaking, so I will try to be brief and you can skim as you please.
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These five weeks went by too fast. Upon arriving in Nairobi, we hopped on a 7 hour bus ride to Moshi, Tanzania, where Babu Msuya drove us to the Kilimanjaro Backpackers hostel. Samwell was the super sweet receptionist, teaching us some Ki-Swahili phrases before showing us to our room. The rooms were small, but supplied all we really needed, which were beds and mosquito nets. I prayed I would not get malaria as mosquitoes have always had a certain taste for my blood. Despite being bitten a lot during the whole trip, my daily dose of Malarone seemed to hold off any parasites dwelling in my blood. We took the long ride to Kilema, the village where the Orphans of Kilimanjaro resided. Babu Bob, Vishal, Chirag, Obadia, Gloria, Lily, Pascal, Godfrey, little Godfrey and Mama Flora immediately welcomed us upon arrival. Savita and I shared one and Manan stayed down the hall. After introductions, we played Crazy Eights/Last Cardi with Godfrey, Pascal, Obi, etc until dinner, which consisted of avocado, green beans, potatoes, cabbage and bananas. Everything was so delicious. The hot shower afterward was so welcomed and needed.

The next day, we went to Moonjo Waterfall and most of us jumped off the cliff into the water. It was so beautiful there. One moment that stuck with me was when Manan jumped without his glasses, and on the bottom Savita and I talked about getting them for him. Godfrey, without saying a word, swiftly floated across the slippery rocks, ran up the steep steps and down the dirt path to get them for us. It was so heartwarming that it bonded us (at least in my mind).

July 1 was the day Godfrey left for boarding school. It was so sad. He was so nervous in the days leading up to that day. I remember after watching him play football with his friends, I asked him if the other kids were his best friends. He said no they were just kids from the village, and that I was his best friend. It was probably a lie, but it reinforced the notion he was kinda my favorite (not that I should have had one). On the day before he left, we passed him coming back to Kilema as he was going where we had come. After expressing surprise he was going alone, Godfrey asked me if I wanted to go with him to buy new shoes - it took effort to say no to him (I was exhausted since we walked back from Marangu instead of taking the dolla dolla). I never wanted to deny anything these kids ask of me... I wished I could give these kids whatever they needed. Leaving him at his new school was  sad that day - he walked up to a tree and with one arm leaned up against it as he dropped his head and stared at the ground. Acting as a helicopter mom, I yelled his name and told him to meet people; he barely looked up. He came back July 5 to get something and we got to catch up about how he was doing... he seemed so tired and silent. I told him to make friends he actually had to TALK to people. He simply said, "ok" as a response to appease me even though we both knew he probably would not. Godfrey repeated over and over that he is shy;  making new friends was hard for him. I wanted to walk him back the next morning, but he dramatically said he wanted to go alone. Before we parted ways, he made me pinky swear that I would visit. I did good on my promise. It was totally worth seeing him happier when we showed up.

In the next couple of weeks, we toured Maua (a self-sufficient community of nuns where they farmed crops, raised animals, and generated their own energy), revisited Moonjo, climbed and re-climbed a hill with a gazebo overlooking the towns and Kili in the distance, scaled the steep hill to Lasso (as practice for Kili), watched the Lion King, played cards with or without electricity, and I had my questionnaire translated. For my project about nutrition status, we asked local villagers in the area as well as at the HIV clinic in the Marangu Hospital, which was a short dolla dolla ride away. The rides on those things are a whole other story. Think about a van and cramming 20 people in there. There are people hanging out the opened door or out the windows. The idea of personal space is nonexistent, yet it might have been better that way since the ride is incredibly bumpy. Being packed like sardines keeps you secure in your position. Driving on the roads in Istanbul and in America was weird; I was no longer used to the lack of feeling like I was on a roller coaster.

One weekend, we took connecting bus rides lasting 8 hours to Pangani, which was BEAUTIFUL. We stayed at a hostel and ate delicious seafood and drank over long conversations. We met Kassim, a rasta man, and Hanku, a South African 19 year old, who walked with us along the beach and taught us about constellations before taking us to a ship yard party. Then we went to a disco, which was fun as we danced the night away. Unfortunately, Swetha had her purse strap cut with a knife, and the thief ran with her bag into the dark labyrinth of alleys. Although it was a downer on the atmosphere, luckily no one was hurt and everything was replaceable. As the saying goes, "Siku za mwizi ni arobaini meaning the days of the thief are forty - he will get caught sooner or later. The next day, we sat on the back of a cattle truck and rode for 2.5 uncomfortable hours to Sange Beach, where we had a long strip of ocean completely to ourselves. Mohammad, the caretaker, cut us coconuts to drink and we swam in the Indian Ocean while looking for seashells. The long transit time was quickly forgotten when we stared at the palm trees and sunset reflecting in the water. The food was also incredible as we ate fresh fish, coconut rice, vegetables in tomato-based sauce and chipatis smothered with nutella.

With a snap of a finger, three weeks disappeared. We prepared for our ascent up Mount Kilimanjaro. Our guides were Nelson and Exaudi. Mosses, a 24 year old student at Dodoma University who we quickly befriended in Kilema came with us. Before we knew it, the 7 of us started climbing up the tallest free standing mountain in Africa. Day 1 consisted of a 3 hour hike to Mandara Hut. Day 2, a 5 hour hike to Horombo Hut. We took a day to acclimatize and hiked to the Zebra Rocks and back. Day 4, we made it to Kibo Hut around 2 pm. We barely napped and barely ate, but at 11 pm, we got ready to climb to the peak. Departing at midnight, we took one step in front of the other and made it to Gilman's Point at 4 or so. It was the hardest leg of the journey... where looking up would kill your motivation and all you could do was look straight in front of you until someone told you to sit down for a scheduled break. Then we walked along the ridge (with quiet fears that I would trip and roll down the cliff) until we reached Uhuru Peak - 5,895 meters above sea level - at 6 am. We watched the orange glow of the sunrise, took a few pictures, appreciated the melting glaciers and climbed back down to Kibo. We napped for a few hours and then left for Horombo Hut again to finish off Day 5. The last day, Day 6, we passed through Mandara for a break and then went back to Marangu Gate. We got our certificates of completion and had lunch/dinner at 5 pm though we had not eaten since 7 am. It was so a joy to have done it, but the excitement was dulled by our hunger. Arriving at home around 7 - there was no power so we sadly took warm bucket showers. Regardless of being tired, grumpy, and dirty, it was so nice to be back with the people we cared about.

It was short lived since we had to get up at 6 am the next morning to leave for the Serengeti. Good Luck picked us up and brought us to the Moshi office for Mapengo to drive us to the national park. The Toyota LandCruiser looked like a giant toy car, and unluckily functioned like one. It broke down 4 times and we had to get out and push - once among the gazelle and ostriches. It was a good thing no hungry lions were near. The campsite was nice except for all the swarming bees during meals and the unseen whooping hyenas  during the night. When we went to the WC, we saw our first African Buffalo in the distance - I love how they run with their noses in the air like Ferdinand the Bull. The next day, we got a new car and driver, Tuma, to take us out. We saw the Maasai people herding their livestock, giraffes munching on acacia trees, elephants pushing their stumbling young across roads, lions ripping apart fallen zebras, a leopard pulling up a limp antelope into a tree for lunch, gazelles grazing on the dry grass, cheetahs lazily sleeping under trees or on mounds, birds flying or perching on huge trees, hippos and crocodiles drifting in ponds, as well as zebras and wildebeest co-existing in the endless plains. It was all so breath-taking. The next day, we left for Ngorogoro Crater where we saw animals from the day before but also two of the remaining 28 BLACK RHINO in the crater. There was the awesome soda Lake Makat that looked like it was bubbling over. By then, we saw the Big Five (buffalo, elephant, leopard, lion, and rhino) as well as the other four that make up the Big Nine (cheetah, zebra, giraffe and hippo)!! The last day, we drove by Lake Manyara and saw pink streaks of flamingos on our way to Tarangire National Park. We saw the same things in addition to the baobab tree and headed home. It was a relief to put our bags down and hang out with the kids for a couple of days. I got to visit Godfrey the day before we left but unfortunately, the headmaster was not there to give us permission so we were not allowed to talk to him for even five minutes. We said our good-byes, and Godfrey said he will e-mail me when he can.

We left for Nairobi on the 25th and hung out with Manan's uncle and his family. We had Indian food at the local shopping center and headed out to Istanbul the next morning. Turkey was so beautiful. We stayed at the Agora Hostel and ate at Doy Doy, which was so delicious and affordable compared to surrounding restaurants. We each paid 10 TL for huge pizzas and drinks. The exchange rate was 1.69 TL to 1 USD, but still, we were spoiled by our 1500 TSH meals (which roughly equaled to 1 USD) in Africa. We spent the night on the roof overlooking the Blue Mosque and met two New Zealanders who went out to eat with us. The next morning we had the most amazing complimentary breakfast with hard boiled eggs, fresh bread, feta cheese, olives, tomatoes, cucumbers, granola, dried fig, cake, coffee, orange juice, and Greek yogurt. It was AMAZING and also a welcomed change to the delicious but repetitive Tanzanian food we had been eating for five weeks. We went to the famous Blue Mosque (free) and admired the stained glass and chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Across the street was the  Hagia Sophia (20 TL) to visit the beautiful and old architecture from the 530s. Then we went to the Basilica Cistern (10 TL), the underground water filtration system, of ancient Constantinople, before lunch. The waiter reminded me of a Turkish Diego Luna, so cute and charming as he kissed my hand when we left. After eating, we went to the Topkapi Palace (20 TL) to see the sword and cloak of the prophet Muhammed. There were also his hair, teeth, and a cast of his footprint. Moses's staff (though it looked like a replica), Abraham's turban, Joseph's sauce pan, and other amazingly historical objects were on display after we ooh'ed and ah'ed at the sultan's clothes and jewels. I can't imagine having a mini chest of emeralds for kicks like the one we saw. Everything was so ornate. Around 6, we left and searched for the Grand Bazaar for souvenirs though the stores were overpriced compared to street vendors. We met Hassan who later took us around and bought us pistachio baklava. Getting home from the restaurant where we had raki required walking for a long time (at least we saw the Waldorf Palace) and bartering with a taxi driver when we missed the last metro... but we made it home!

The Turkish Airlines flight was amazing with its complimentary socks, blanket, earplugs, toothbrush, wine and extensive entertainment selection. Lunch and dinner were so delicious with its fresh bread, yogurt, veggies, hummus, and dessert... best flight ever.
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So in summary, I'm simply in reverse culture shock from this perfect summer with Savita, Manan, Swetha, Vishal, Chirag, Godfrey(s), Pascal, Obi, Lily, Gloria, Calvin, Innocent, Razaki (the cranky 20 month baby who only let me hold him when I had sweets)... and even Peter and Paul (the too cool for school boys, possibly wezis, who kept to themselves). Talk about separation anxiety... I could not have dreamed up a better way to spend the last real summer holiday of my life.

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