Friday, December 31, 2004
So where did I leave off? The trip to Kampala was uneventful, just long - except for the start. Our bus reservations suddenly weren't any good, because the bus company decided not to run a bus that day. Fortunately there were enough of us that we could rent a minivan to take us to the border with Uganda, and then we could take a local bus for the rest of the way.
We stayed at the Blue Mango, then went to Jinji and the Nile River Explorers the next day. The Blue Mango was a hostel - sleeping dorm style, but the restaurant, pool and lounge were quite posh. Quite a change from the usual Peace Corps digs.
Rafting the Nile headwaters below the Owen Falls Dam was a real KICK. The guys in my raft were all gung ho to do things the hard way, so our guide made sure that we went through all the Class 5 rapids sideways instead of head on. Nice guy! I was in the middle of the boat, which I think is rather like being in the middle of the roller coaster - it is the front and the back that get the biggest thrills. In the middle, it was, well - paddle like hell, grab the rope on the side of the boat and lean toward the middle, look up at the wall of water coming at you, yell as the raft flies away from you, enjoy all the bubbles while getting swept along and waiting to come back to the surface, swim toward the boat, or hitch a ride with the kayak safety guys. It was sort of like being in a washing machine, but fun.
After the Nile, the gang split up in different directions. I need to go back to my site to get some forms that need to be filled out before out meeing in Dar es Salaam next week. So I am writing from Bukoba, just got a first class berth for the overnight ferry back. Think I will be asleep when the new year rings in.
Mike was a Canadian in our raft, nice guy. After the Nile we both went to the Red Chili in Kampala for our last night in Uganda. The RC is a campsite, much lower key than the Blue Mango. But that kind of place seems friendlier, and more interesting things happen. There were some Uganda Peace Corps people there, and it was fun to get their perspective on things, though it sounded pretty familiar overall. They tend to be teaching teachers though, working on methods and stuff, rather than actually BEING teachers the way we are in Tanzania. Seems like that might make a stronger contribution to change, somehow.
Mike met an Australian there who had swung a deal. The UN has five ambulances in Kampala, and was looking for drivers to take them to Darfur in the Sudan. So the Aussy and Mike both signed on. Four days driving under UN auspices, earning $50/day and getting a flight back to Nairobi. Not bad! If I weren't in the Peace Corps....
We stayed at the Blue Mango, then went to Jinji and the Nile River Explorers the next day. The Blue Mango was a hostel - sleeping dorm style, but the restaurant, pool and lounge were quite posh. Quite a change from the usual Peace Corps digs.
Rafting the Nile headwaters below the Owen Falls Dam was a real KICK. The guys in my raft were all gung ho to do things the hard way, so our guide made sure that we went through all the Class 5 rapids sideways instead of head on. Nice guy! I was in the middle of the boat, which I think is rather like being in the middle of the roller coaster - it is the front and the back that get the biggest thrills. In the middle, it was, well - paddle like hell, grab the rope on the side of the boat and lean toward the middle, look up at the wall of water coming at you, yell as the raft flies away from you, enjoy all the bubbles while getting swept along and waiting to come back to the surface, swim toward the boat, or hitch a ride with the kayak safety guys. It was sort of like being in a washing machine, but fun.
After the Nile, the gang split up in different directions. I need to go back to my site to get some forms that need to be filled out before out meeing in Dar es Salaam next week. So I am writing from Bukoba, just got a first class berth for the overnight ferry back. Think I will be asleep when the new year rings in.
Mike was a Canadian in our raft, nice guy. After the Nile we both went to the Red Chili in Kampala for our last night in Uganda. The RC is a campsite, much lower key than the Blue Mango. But that kind of place seems friendlier, and more interesting things happen. There were some Uganda Peace Corps people there, and it was fun to get their perspective on things, though it sounded pretty familiar overall. They tend to be teaching teachers though, working on methods and stuff, rather than actually BEING teachers the way we are in Tanzania. Seems like that might make a stronger contribution to change, somehow.
Mike met an Australian there who had swung a deal. The UN has five ambulances in Kampala, and was looking for drivers to take them to Darfur in the Sudan. So the Aussy and Mike both signed on. Four days driving under UN auspices, earning $50/day and getting a flight back to Nairobi. Not bad! If I weren't in the Peace Corps....
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
Only 4 minutes left here, so a few Christmas highlights:
The eight of us took the ferry to Bukoba for Christmas - there were at total of 14 of us there to exchange gifts, sing Christmas Carols, eat and drink, and catch up on each other's lives.
Then 11 of us went on to Kampala, Uganda, for white water rafting in the headwaters of the Nile River, just below the Owen Falls hydroelectric complex. Wow, what a ride!
Now we are scattering - I will go back to Mwanza to complete some forms for support of my business course, then on to Dar es Salaam after New Years for our Mid Service Training.
Ouch. More later.......
The eight of us took the ferry to Bukoba for Christmas - there were at total of 14 of us there to exchange gifts, sing Christmas Carols, eat and drink, and catch up on each other's lives.
Then 11 of us went on to Kampala, Uganda, for white water rafting in the headwaters of the Nile River, just below the Owen Falls hydroelectric complex. Wow, what a ride!
Now we are scattering - I will go back to Mwanza to complete some forms for support of my business course, then on to Dar es Salaam after New Years for our Mid Service Training.
Ouch. More later.......
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Wednesday, Dec 22
Well, things have not been dull.
Gertrude died, poor thing. Monday morning I was working at my desk, Hason was in the kitchen washing dishes and Gertrude was clucking around just outside the courtyard. Suddenly she came squawking and flapping into the courtyard, running in circles and into the walls, feathers flying everywhere. Finally she stopped suddenly and squatted, panting and looking very frightened. Yes, a chicken can look frightened. I picked her up and she was trembling and seemed disoriented. Then she began going into convulsions and within ten minutes, was dead. It brought to mind the way my dog Skippy died in my arms of convulsions after he got into the rat poison, when I was eight or so.
Hason felt it had to be a snakebite, and Paul concurred when he got there. We found marks on her leg that seemed to confirm it. Strange. For all my bike riding and hiking, I have yet to see my first snake in Africa. Still, my friends talk about how many there are everywhere. If they are here, and I guess they sure are, a lot of them are really nasty. Spitting cobras and mombos and vipers and who know what else.
My Project to teach students how to start and run a small business is moving along. VETA, Mwanza and Nsumba are enthusiastic. I’ve been trying to recruit Ngonza as well, but have had trouble getting an appointment with the Headmistress. TechnoServe might only be able to supply half the books we need though, and they want us to send our trainers to Dar es Salaam for a training course, which is almost prohibitively expensive for us. But these are good problems to be working on.
Meanwhile, my house is full and more. PCVs have been collecting here, before we all take the ferry to Bukoba tomorrow night. Patty is here from Kilimanjaro, Charlie from Zanzibar, Mike from Mufindi, Rich from Morogoro, Matt from Hanang, and Caitlin from Singida. There are the usual horror stories of overcrowded buses and breakdowns of busses in godforsaken places. We got word that Charles from Songea got to town last night, but he isn’t here yet so I guess he stayed in a guest house overnight. I ran out of soft things to sleep on – chair pillows and stuff – and the extra mattresses I requested from the school never showed up, so some of them are sleeping on blankets on the floor. Ouch. It will surely be the same thing in Bukoba, but I will have my tent and Thermorest for my own comfort.
I got compliments on my scrambled eggs and toast yesterday morning, but they took over the dinner, and we had great soup, grilled cheese sandwiches (!) and fresh mixed fruit, with chocolate chip cookies from the U-turn Market for dessert.
Last night we went up to the Retreat to watch the sunset. It was spectacular. There was a lot of chatter and conversation on the hike up the hill, as there has been throughout, with this reunion of good friends. But it was amazing how, when we moved out on that big hilltop rock in the immensity of the green vista with the wide orange fire where the sun had been, a hush fell over the group. We all kind of moved apart, and sat for a long time, silently watching the sunset and the green expanse fade into black, meditating, just being. For me, it was a chance to begin to process the disappointment and frustration of London. Then we slowly got up one by one and moved off, still not talking until after we had left the scene. It is a very special place that I have, here in Africa.
The word on the overnight ferry, though, is that all the first and second class sleeping compartments are long gone. They have 109 spots in the 3rd class seating area, then 900 open 3rd class slots, first come first served on the day of departure (tomorrow). So we will have to send a couple of people to stand in line well before they open the ticket window to be sure we can even get on the boat.
I just received a wonderful Christmas card with family news from Arlene. Hand delivered by the Postmaster – THAT is something that doesn’t happen much in the US! It is good to be remembered and get cards with news. Emails are great and immediate, but have this mechanical, “processed” feel about them.
Well, things have not been dull.
Gertrude died, poor thing. Monday morning I was working at my desk, Hason was in the kitchen washing dishes and Gertrude was clucking around just outside the courtyard. Suddenly she came squawking and flapping into the courtyard, running in circles and into the walls, feathers flying everywhere. Finally she stopped suddenly and squatted, panting and looking very frightened. Yes, a chicken can look frightened. I picked her up and she was trembling and seemed disoriented. Then she began going into convulsions and within ten minutes, was dead. It brought to mind the way my dog Skippy died in my arms of convulsions after he got into the rat poison, when I was eight or so.
Hason felt it had to be a snakebite, and Paul concurred when he got there. We found marks on her leg that seemed to confirm it. Strange. For all my bike riding and hiking, I have yet to see my first snake in Africa. Still, my friends talk about how many there are everywhere. If they are here, and I guess they sure are, a lot of them are really nasty. Spitting cobras and mombos and vipers and who know what else.
My Project to teach students how to start and run a small business is moving along. VETA, Mwanza and Nsumba are enthusiastic. I’ve been trying to recruit Ngonza as well, but have had trouble getting an appointment with the Headmistress. TechnoServe might only be able to supply half the books we need though, and they want us to send our trainers to Dar es Salaam for a training course, which is almost prohibitively expensive for us. But these are good problems to be working on.
Meanwhile, my house is full and more. PCVs have been collecting here, before we all take the ferry to Bukoba tomorrow night. Patty is here from Kilimanjaro, Charlie from Zanzibar, Mike from Mufindi, Rich from Morogoro, Matt from Hanang, and Caitlin from Singida. There are the usual horror stories of overcrowded buses and breakdowns of busses in godforsaken places. We got word that Charles from Songea got to town last night, but he isn’t here yet so I guess he stayed in a guest house overnight. I ran out of soft things to sleep on – chair pillows and stuff – and the extra mattresses I requested from the school never showed up, so some of them are sleeping on blankets on the floor. Ouch. It will surely be the same thing in Bukoba, but I will have my tent and Thermorest for my own comfort.
I got compliments on my scrambled eggs and toast yesterday morning, but they took over the dinner, and we had great soup, grilled cheese sandwiches (!) and fresh mixed fruit, with chocolate chip cookies from the U-turn Market for dessert.
Last night we went up to the Retreat to watch the sunset. It was spectacular. There was a lot of chatter and conversation on the hike up the hill, as there has been throughout, with this reunion of good friends. But it was amazing how, when we moved out on that big hilltop rock in the immensity of the green vista with the wide orange fire where the sun had been, a hush fell over the group. We all kind of moved apart, and sat for a long time, silently watching the sunset and the green expanse fade into black, meditating, just being. For me, it was a chance to begin to process the disappointment and frustration of London. Then we slowly got up one by one and moved off, still not talking until after we had left the scene. It is a very special place that I have, here in Africa.
The word on the overnight ferry, though, is that all the first and second class sleeping compartments are long gone. They have 109 spots in the 3rd class seating area, then 900 open 3rd class slots, first come first served on the day of departure (tomorrow). So we will have to send a couple of people to stand in line well before they open the ticket window to be sure we can even get on the boat.
I just received a wonderful Christmas card with family news from Arlene. Hand delivered by the Postmaster – THAT is something that doesn’t happen much in the US! It is good to be remembered and get cards with news. Emails are great and immediate, but have this mechanical, “processed” feel about them.
Monday, December 20, 2004
Sunday eve, December 19
I’ve been feeling antsy, at loose ends since my return from London. A lack of purpose and kind of a deep burning regret and anger that Myrna is not here with me. I look at Kiswahili lessons and give up. I get tired of reading the New Yorkers that came while I was gone. I poke around at the syllabus I must teach this year, and I don’t like it. Dull, dull, dull:
1. Extraction and Properties of Metals
2. Compounds of Metals
3. Nonmetals and their Compounds
4. Organic Chemistry
5. Soil Chemistry
6. Pollution
The syllabus wants lots of detail on the first three topics, and the last three are kind of thrown in for good measure. The last three will be fun, relevant to their lives. But the first three, the ones that will be stressed on their National Examination? – ughh! On top of that, while the textbooks Shari gave us are fantastic on the last three topics, they don’t touch the first three AT ALL. Back to writing on the blackboard so my classes can copy and memorize without understanding?
With all that going on in my head, I just didn’t want to sit around this weekend watching the grass grow. So: Sengerema is a town a ferry ride and about 40-50km away, and I’d never been there. A newby PCV was sent there early this month. I just missed meeting him/her by one day as I left for London. I thought it would be fun to try to find and meet him/her and introduce myself - and Sengerema is just about the right distance for a good, exhausting bike ride.
The ride was good. Two hours to the ferry, half an hour on the ferry and then another hour and three quarters to Sengerema. There were a couple of long, grinding hills but the scenery was great, the bike was in good form, and whenever there is a long hill there has to be a compensating coast somewhere else.
I had about given up on exploring more African towns – they all look about alike, with dusty dirty unpaved streets without sidewalks, crude shops, kiosks and shacks shoulder to shoulder, with a crowded market somewhere. But Sengerema was a pleasant surprise. Very wide streets – it looks like a Wild West movie set without the horses. Very few cars. Everyone seems to walk everywhere. Some wide spaces around the market, and the market even has a degree of organization – women’s clothes here, tailors there, kangas and cloth yonder.
I bought a long sleeve shirt there. (Asking price, $12. Final price, $2.) For the first time, the sun had gotten to me and I had a slight burn on my arms after the bike ride. Not really bad, but my face and arms feel prickly and warm. Thought I needed protection on the way back. This sun thing is strange. I spend a good bit of time outside around mid-day and it never bothered me before, even though my prophylactic malaria medication (doxycyclane) is supposed to make me very sensitive to the sun. And on this ride it was mostly overcast, I even had to put up with about an hour of drizzle. But now I am also taking an antifungal medication and maybe they interact somehow to increase my sensitivity.
I went to a guest house and asked if they knew of a new Muzungu in town, or the location of the AMREF organization that she/he was assigned to. First problem: They don’t speak English in Sengerema. But the sense of my question finally got through. The answer was no, but Margaret took me in tow and we went to several other guestis. No luck. Then I remembered that AMREF works out of the hospital so we walked there (half an hour), and one of the Sisters who had just been in a meeting with her the day before directed us to her house in the staff compound.
The guard at the entrance to the compound let me struggle at length in Kiswahili to explain myself before answering me in beautiful English. He had studied at Nsumba, and was suddenly very friendly when he learned that I am teaching there. He told us that the PVC, she, had left for the USA suddenly, just a few hours ago and that someone was coming to pick up here things. He thought that might have been me.
He did not know why she left. That it was sudden might suggest a family crisis of some sort. But that someone would need to pick up her stuff suggests that she isn’t coming back. This year, for budgetary reasons, new PCVs did not have a chance to visit their sites before going there to stay. I can imagine that that increases the level of arrival shock and anxiety, especially if the accommodations aren’t fully arranged before the PCV arrives – and they usually aren’t. Maybe she just felt isolated and got scared off.
Otherwise, it was a nice, uneventful trip. Stayed in a hotel overnight, did Christmas Card sketches at a café while I ate breakfast. Came home, showered, had a drink, made a stir fry, sat on my porch and enjoyed feeling tired.
I’ve been feeling antsy, at loose ends since my return from London. A lack of purpose and kind of a deep burning regret and anger that Myrna is not here with me. I look at Kiswahili lessons and give up. I get tired of reading the New Yorkers that came while I was gone. I poke around at the syllabus I must teach this year, and I don’t like it. Dull, dull, dull:
1. Extraction and Properties of Metals
2. Compounds of Metals
3. Nonmetals and their Compounds
4. Organic Chemistry
5. Soil Chemistry
6. Pollution
The syllabus wants lots of detail on the first three topics, and the last three are kind of thrown in for good measure. The last three will be fun, relevant to their lives. But the first three, the ones that will be stressed on their National Examination? – ughh! On top of that, while the textbooks Shari gave us are fantastic on the last three topics, they don’t touch the first three AT ALL. Back to writing on the blackboard so my classes can copy and memorize without understanding?
With all that going on in my head, I just didn’t want to sit around this weekend watching the grass grow. So: Sengerema is a town a ferry ride and about 40-50km away, and I’d never been there. A newby PCV was sent there early this month. I just missed meeting him/her by one day as I left for London. I thought it would be fun to try to find and meet him/her and introduce myself - and Sengerema is just about the right distance for a good, exhausting bike ride.
The ride was good. Two hours to the ferry, half an hour on the ferry and then another hour and three quarters to Sengerema. There were a couple of long, grinding hills but the scenery was great, the bike was in good form, and whenever there is a long hill there has to be a compensating coast somewhere else.
I had about given up on exploring more African towns – they all look about alike, with dusty dirty unpaved streets without sidewalks, crude shops, kiosks and shacks shoulder to shoulder, with a crowded market somewhere. But Sengerema was a pleasant surprise. Very wide streets – it looks like a Wild West movie set without the horses. Very few cars. Everyone seems to walk everywhere. Some wide spaces around the market, and the market even has a degree of organization – women’s clothes here, tailors there, kangas and cloth yonder.
I bought a long sleeve shirt there. (Asking price, $12. Final price, $2.) For the first time, the sun had gotten to me and I had a slight burn on my arms after the bike ride. Not really bad, but my face and arms feel prickly and warm. Thought I needed protection on the way back. This sun thing is strange. I spend a good bit of time outside around mid-day and it never bothered me before, even though my prophylactic malaria medication (doxycyclane) is supposed to make me very sensitive to the sun. And on this ride it was mostly overcast, I even had to put up with about an hour of drizzle. But now I am also taking an antifungal medication and maybe they interact somehow to increase my sensitivity.
I went to a guest house and asked if they knew of a new Muzungu in town, or the location of the AMREF organization that she/he was assigned to. First problem: They don’t speak English in Sengerema. But the sense of my question finally got through. The answer was no, but Margaret took me in tow and we went to several other guestis. No luck. Then I remembered that AMREF works out of the hospital so we walked there (half an hour), and one of the Sisters who had just been in a meeting with her the day before directed us to her house in the staff compound.
The guard at the entrance to the compound let me struggle at length in Kiswahili to explain myself before answering me in beautiful English. He had studied at Nsumba, and was suddenly very friendly when he learned that I am teaching there. He told us that the PVC, she, had left for the USA suddenly, just a few hours ago and that someone was coming to pick up here things. He thought that might have been me.
He did not know why she left. That it was sudden might suggest a family crisis of some sort. But that someone would need to pick up her stuff suggests that she isn’t coming back. This year, for budgetary reasons, new PCVs did not have a chance to visit their sites before going there to stay. I can imagine that that increases the level of arrival shock and anxiety, especially if the accommodations aren’t fully arranged before the PCV arrives – and they usually aren’t. Maybe she just felt isolated and got scared off.
Otherwise, it was a nice, uneventful trip. Stayed in a hotel overnight, did Christmas Card sketches at a café while I ate breakfast. Came home, showered, had a drink, made a stir fry, sat on my porch and enjoyed feeling tired.
Saturday, Dec 18
Yesterday I went to the dock to get berths on the overnight ferry to Bukoba, where those of us who haven’t gone to the states will meet for Christmas. Charlie and Rich are also coming from other parts of Tanzania, so I needed tickets for three. But we are out of luck. All the berths are booked until after Christmas, so our only option now is the unreserved third class seating. Man, that is STEERAGE! People are crowded together, it is smelly, people crawl into the coatracks to sleep...
There are two alternatives. The better alternative is to find a crew member ASAP and pay him to sleep in his quarters. This works, but you have to be fast – that option disappears like a shot. The other is to go to the top deck where they keep the lifeboats. You really aren’t supposed to be up there, but there are benches that you can stretch out on and it isn’t too bad if you bring a blanket, and especially if you have a Thermorest so you aren’t just on the hard bench, which I do.
While I was downtown, I made a last try to buy Christmas cards. I am late again this year, but I just hadn’t found any cards that were African, and why send Hallmark Cards from Tanzania? My luck today was no better. So I decided that I would have to do my own sketches.
I rode my bike to the Mkuyuni market and paid for a cup of tea and a biscuit to get a spot on a bench, and took out my paper and pen. Of course I instantly had a whole crowd of silent critics behind me, watching. I still find it hard to capture the posture and attitudes of the people here, but did manage to get some halfway credible sketches. They will have to do, at any rate. I also did a couple of portraits of some of the watchers – I like those best, and I think I am getting a little better at getting portraits that capture something of the model. The problem with portraits is that my models then want to have the sketches, and I end up giving most of them away.
News travels fast. Later I went to another market about a mile away to replenish my supply of bananas, tomatoes and onions. The Mama at the kiosk must have been at the first market, or at least heard about this weird Muzungu with the pen, because she insisted that I sketch her portrait too. It didn’t get me any extra tomatoes, but did win big smiles.
On the way home, I again shot a bunch of the kids shouting Muzungu/Mafrica with my finger as I rode by. POW! POW! POWPOW! They aren’t shooting back yet.
Yesterday I went to the dock to get berths on the overnight ferry to Bukoba, where those of us who haven’t gone to the states will meet for Christmas. Charlie and Rich are also coming from other parts of Tanzania, so I needed tickets for three. But we are out of luck. All the berths are booked until after Christmas, so our only option now is the unreserved third class seating. Man, that is STEERAGE! People are crowded together, it is smelly, people crawl into the coatracks to sleep...
There are two alternatives. The better alternative is to find a crew member ASAP and pay him to sleep in his quarters. This works, but you have to be fast – that option disappears like a shot. The other is to go to the top deck where they keep the lifeboats. You really aren’t supposed to be up there, but there are benches that you can stretch out on and it isn’t too bad if you bring a blanket, and especially if you have a Thermorest so you aren’t just on the hard bench, which I do.
While I was downtown, I made a last try to buy Christmas cards. I am late again this year, but I just hadn’t found any cards that were African, and why send Hallmark Cards from Tanzania? My luck today was no better. So I decided that I would have to do my own sketches.
I rode my bike to the Mkuyuni market and paid for a cup of tea and a biscuit to get a spot on a bench, and took out my paper and pen. Of course I instantly had a whole crowd of silent critics behind me, watching. I still find it hard to capture the posture and attitudes of the people here, but did manage to get some halfway credible sketches. They will have to do, at any rate. I also did a couple of portraits of some of the watchers – I like those best, and I think I am getting a little better at getting portraits that capture something of the model. The problem with portraits is that my models then want to have the sketches, and I end up giving most of them away.
News travels fast. Later I went to another market about a mile away to replenish my supply of bananas, tomatoes and onions. The Mama at the kiosk must have been at the first market, or at least heard about this weird Muzungu with the pen, because she insisted that I sketch her portrait too. It didn’t get me any extra tomatoes, but did win big smiles.
On the way home, I again shot a bunch of the kids shouting Muzungu/Mafrica with my finger as I rode by. POW! POW! POWPOW! They aren’t shooting back yet.
Monday, December 13, 2004
So for the weekend, I’ve been hanging out in Dar es Salaam. So many PCVs have been passing through, it has been a rare opportunity to catch up on who is doing what, and where.
Jackie is headed to the States for Christmas, and has booked a raft of meetings with Rotary, Kiwanis, and Churches, where she will talk about her site in Africa and sell change purses that her students crocheted using plastic shopping bags. The proceeds will fund bus trips for her students to educational sites in Tanzania.
Carly wasn’t getting much cooperation from her school so started a Village Women’s Group, teaching health and nutrition, with special emphasis on physiology – what is menstruation and what happens and why, practical lessons on family planning and AIDS/HIV safety with bananas and donated condoms .
Patty is sharing my double room here ($15/night, a far cry from London), and is in the process of moving her site to a schools that has a greater need for her assistance.
We’ve pretty much been doing our own things during the day, and then getting together somewhere for dinner. Sometimes local inexpensive food and sometimes upscale tourist food.
Jackie is headed to the States for Christmas, and has booked a raft of meetings with Rotary, Kiwanis, and Churches, where she will talk about her site in Africa and sell change purses that her students crocheted using plastic shopping bags. The proceeds will fund bus trips for her students to educational sites in Tanzania.
Carly wasn’t getting much cooperation from her school so started a Village Women’s Group, teaching health and nutrition, with special emphasis on physiology – what is menstruation and what happens and why, practical lessons on family planning and AIDS/HIV safety with bananas and donated condoms .
Patty is sharing my double room here ($15/night, a far cry from London), and is in the process of moving her site to a schools that has a greater need for her assistance.
We’ve pretty much been doing our own things during the day, and then getting together somewhere for dinner. Sometimes local inexpensive food and sometimes upscale tourist food.
Sunday, December 12, 2004
Saturday, 11 December
That last day in London was pretty uneventful. I passed a library, and went in to do a search on corporal punishment as a method of school discipline. Copied a couple of articles I want to post in the staff room back at Nsumba, along with an advertisement for various kinds of paddles for every type of student.
Dar es Salaam is crawling with Peace Corps Volunteers just now – a few just passing through, some here for medical reasons, but mostly scads of Volunteers who have completed their service and are now packing, making flight arrangements, completing some last sightseeing in Tanzania. Eight or so are flying out tomorrow morning on the flight to London and then on to points west. It is great to talk with them, hear what their plans are as they talk about the next phase of their lives. It is strange to think that now we, I, are the old timers, the volunteers who have been here a year and are comfortable with the customs and the tasks and the system.
Today a gang of us went out to Mwenge, the center of the high end handmade crafts in Dar, at the end of the daladala line. Many of the retiring volunteers have bought chests, furniture, carved headboards and big statues to make use of joint arrangements to ship everything to the States in one big container. It is a great system that I hope my group also arranges a shipping container for next year. A Zanzibar Chest would be a great way to remember these two years in Africa.
Also, Mwenge is a must destination for the clan in August, if we all finish our safari in Dar es Salaam.
That last day in London was pretty uneventful. I passed a library, and went in to do a search on corporal punishment as a method of school discipline. Copied a couple of articles I want to post in the staff room back at Nsumba, along with an advertisement for various kinds of paddles for every type of student.
Dar es Salaam is crawling with Peace Corps Volunteers just now – a few just passing through, some here for medical reasons, but mostly scads of Volunteers who have completed their service and are now packing, making flight arrangements, completing some last sightseeing in Tanzania. Eight or so are flying out tomorrow morning on the flight to London and then on to points west. It is great to talk with them, hear what their plans are as they talk about the next phase of their lives. It is strange to think that now we, I, are the old timers, the volunteers who have been here a year and are comfortable with the customs and the tasks and the system.
Today a gang of us went out to Mwenge, the center of the high end handmade crafts in Dar, at the end of the daladala line. Many of the retiring volunteers have bought chests, furniture, carved headboards and big statues to make use of joint arrangements to ship everything to the States in one big container. It is a great system that I hope my group also arranges a shipping container for next year. A Zanzibar Chest would be a great way to remember these two years in Africa.
Also, Mwenge is a must destination for the clan in August, if we all finish our safari in Dar es Salaam.
TRIP TO LONDON
What a gruesome week. Not the worst one of my life by any means, but it does rank right up there, pretty close. I’d kept this daily diary, but if you want to skip the travelogue, the last few lines say it all.
Fri – Dec 3
Uneventful trip. The flight steward on our plane was a really nice guy, and he recommended Earls Court for reasonable accomodations. Tired, I found the first cheap hotel (hostel) outside the subway stop and took it for 2 nights so Myrna would have the London address she needs at customs. But it is a flea bag – well, no bugs but it is simply a ratty dormitory room with construction going on in the hallways, shared with three other guys for 15 pounds – just about $30/night. Everything in London is EXPENSIVE, 2-3x the cost in the US. I would like to get out of here quickly. Arranging to stay for several days was a mistake.
Myrna and I have been sending frantic email messages because American Airlines is denying her ticket, Guatemala to Miami. I’d called Maryam at WorldLink from Dar es Salaam after Myrna’s first frantic message, and Maryam ASSURED me that everything is OK. Tried to call Myrna but couldn’t reach her, so we are dealing only by email.
Sat – Dec 4
Called British Airways and was ASSURED that everything is OK. Got a reference number to call in case Guatemala does not agree somehow, and sent that to Myrna by email. Got Myrna’s number from my computer before the battery went dead, but still was unsuccessful in calling her, either by phone card or by internet connection.
By now I’ve sent 6 urgent emails to Maryam at WorldLink in Mwanza asking for immediate replies to both Myrna and me. Nothing! I’ve bought several international phone cards to try to reach Myrna – tried several internet cafes and a standard, old fashioned interational phone store. Can’t reach her! I hope she gets my emails before she freaks out.
I feel terrible. My toe hurts like crazy. My head hurts from worry. It is only 5:15 pm and feels like 1:00am. It will be terrible if Myrna can’t get on her flight tomorrow.
Fish and chips with a Foster’s at a pub was $16. Money is disappearing like water.
Sun – Dec 5
The email from Myrna this morning was so painful, and angry. It stressed her love and our need to be together – and the REFUSAL of American Airlines to allow her on the flight.
I went to the airport and worked with the Manager of Customer Service, British Airways. She was able to determine that when Myrna’s reservation had been changed to provide a better connection in Miami, notice of payment had not accompanied it. Therefore American Airlines had no record of payment for the ticket – but should have been able to figure that out, she said. So anyhow she fixed that, rebooked Myrna for tomorrow, and arranged to have a representative meet Myrna in Miami to assist her transfer. American Airlines was snippy, but finally confirmed that everything was in order now, and wrote out a request that, if any economy passengers are moved to 1st Class (the flight is overbooked by 20!) she should receive first consideration. That is the only special consideration I could get from them.
It was impossible to pin down whether the error was due to BA, AA or WorldLink, but really, they are ALL culpable in my view.
Otherwise, I moved to a decent (but $80/night, and lucky to get it) hotel, spent a few hours at the British Museum, and took in a London Symphony Orchestra concert at the Barbican Center. Wagner’s Tannheuser, the Brahms Double Concerto and then his Second Symphony. A wonderful evening of familiar music. I needed it!
No email from Myrna on my return to Earls Court. I hope that means she is on the plane. I won’t know until tomorrow. This trip is turning out to be a disaster, in every way. This MUST just be a nightmare. CAN’T be real, can it?
Monday, Dec 6
Jeez, today was Airport Day in Hell. I was at Heathrow from 9:00am until 9:30pm. Anything you want to know about Terminals 1 and 3, I can tell you. For instance, the ONLY telephone in the whole damn airport that works for Guatemala is in T-1, between the newsstand and the gift shoppe. The newsstand beside the Information booth is the ONLY that newsstand sells the Herald Tribune. The cheapest in-airport internet connection is $2.00 for 15 minutes.
The day began as usual, checking for emails from Myrna at the McDonalds. Her message was full of vitriol and called me a thoughtless scoundrel in numerous imaginative ways. I decided to check on her flight status at the airport before responding.
The British Airways people know me by now, so I only had to argue for about 20 minutes before they would confirm to me that Myrna had been a no-show in Guatemala. I finally found the phone that worked for Guatemala and called her, to learn that she had spent all day in church yesterday so had not checked her email. Therefore she didn’t know that I had arranged new tickets for her, although it sounded like she would not have used them anyway. It took NUMEROUS widely-spaced phone calls and email messages to reach her and calm her down, and convince her that I was doing everything I could on my end. But we even had to deal with the Why didn’t you come to Guatemala to Pick Me Up issue yet again.
Finally, she agreed that she would fly on Wednesday, but NOT tomorrow. She was sick, due to nerves and anxiety. The BA Customer Service Rep had already told me that I would have to buy a whole new ticket for her since she was a no-show. I didn’t know what to do about that, but FORTUNATELY the British Airways ticket desk had no problem with rescheduling her flight after I again related the whole sad tale. So the agent there set everything up, assured met that it was all in order and tried to dissuade me from even going to the American Air desk to confirm things there, because there could be no question that everything was in order.
I went to the American desk in the other Terminal anyway. I’d had enough assurances before that fell through. Sure enough, American had no information about any new change. Furthermore it appears that they didn’t even have the information on the prior change, so if Myrna HAD tried to fly yesterday, she could not have been permitted to anyway. That REALLY would have set her off! American couldn’t even revise the ticket with my providing them with the BA authorization and their calling the BA desk - they ended up having to create a whole new ticket of their own. How screwed up and two airlines be? Fortunately we have a whole day tomorrow for Myrna to confirm with the American desk in Guatemala and email me in case there is yet another problem.
So for most of this frustrating day, I just really felt beat up. By Myrna who hadn’t checked for new flight plans, by expensive London for being expensive, by both airlines, by my travel agent, by my painful ingrown toenail that doesn’t like the concrete London sidewalks at all.
I came back to Earls Court tired and hungry, and decided to treat myself to a little Thai restaurant near the subway stop. Wonderful choice. The food was succulent, delicious and authentic. It really took me back to the trip Matthew and I shared, so many years ago. The owner came around and introduced himself and his family. I’d been doing a little sketch of two other patrons until they left in the middle of my opus. The Thai staff saw it though, and wanted their portraits sketched also. So I did that. Got nice compliments and an excellent glass of white wine as a result. And an offer for another glass of wine the next time I drop in there. Which I do think I will do.
It was a very good way to end a day like this one.
Tuesday, Dec 7
I made yet another trip out to Heathrow this morning. It occurred to me that Myrna will be arriving in London at 10:00am on Thursday having spent about 12-14 hours in transit (10 ½ hrs actual flying time). Then we turn around and leave at 6:30pm for another 10 hours in the air. The poor woman – that just doesn’t work. It isn’t enough time to do anything in London, and still it is ‘way too much time to sit in the airport and stew.
So I went back to the ticketing office to British Air to see if we could use their Departure Lounge. I got a definite Maybe. It is up to the Manager On Duty that day. The agent I was working with was pretty discouraging, but after I recounted the sad tale, she wrote “Previously mishandled, do all ppossible to assist” into the file. So I think we have a chance, at least.
Then I went to Trafalgar Square to take some pictures of Lord Nelson on his pedestal. St. Martin in the Fields is also on the Square, and I just missed a concert there. The choir is presenting a program of carols tomorrow night though, so I may still hear more good music. Next I went to the National Portrait Gallery and took a fairly interesting tour with a knowledgeable docent there.
I went back to the same Thai restaurant for dinner. Talked to a woman who was reading the menu outside, to tell her that the place really is excellent. Turned out that Katerina Ring was in London for only one night, on her way from Zambia to Italy. She is an Italian artist, teaching art to students in Zambia for three months, as a volunteer. So we traded stories about Africa and teaching over dinner. Very interesting and entertaining meal.
And that was the day. No message from Myrna today. I hope everything is still on track.
Wednesday, Dec 9
Thursday morning, December 10th.
Couldn’t keep up the diary yesterday. Couldn’t see straight. It was the final cap to this horrid week.
I’d intentionally run myself low on cash, but overdid it a little and had to hit the ATM one more time. But when I went to a cash machine to replenish my wallet, I only got a message that I needed to contact my bank. This happens when there is sudden strange activity on an account that has been largely dormant, as a security system. And surely, with all my withdrawals and many credit card calls to Myrna – plus the calls that didn’t get through, or went flooey – the card activity light must have been flashing in panic. But the problem was compounded because the machine swallowed my card and wouldn’t give it back. So now I was stuck in the middle of London, destitute, without even enough money to make a phone call.
I still had some internet time on the chit I’d bought, so I got on the internet and found the address of the US Embassy (it is on Grosvenor Square) and spent the next hour and a half walking over there. It was a suitably bleak, gray day. Like my mood, at this point. Interesting walk though, from my residential area through the museum area – National History Museum, Virginia and Albert Museum – then the commercial area – Harrods et al – and finally Hyde Park. A troop of mounted guards in full regalia went by, I guess after the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace. Near the museums, I talked to a teacher with a batch of school kids and confirmed that British schools have not used the cane for discipline in many many years.
The embassy people were really quite helpful after I got past the guards who were trying to control the loong queue of people applying for visas. It apparently is not a very uncommon problem. They suggested that I call a friend in the US and have them wire me some money by Western Union, and gave me a phone to use. I couldn’t reach Allegra, so called Paul and he took time from his meeting to do that for me. Twenty minutes later I had some money again.
Spent the afternoon at the mildly interesting Tate Modern Museum, then went to St. Martin in the Fields for a community Christmas program and carol sing. I fully enjoyed that, and I felt the approach of the Christmas season for the first time. It felt good to sing again. I do miss singing with the Choral Arts Society a lot. This was just about the time that Myrna should be getting on the plan in Guatemala, and that felt good too.
I finally came back to the Earls Court station, and went back to the trusty McDonalds to check email messages and hopefully confirm that Myrna was on the way.
She wasn’t.
At long last, at the end, when it finally came down to it, she could not overcome her fears and had called American Airlines to cancel her reservation.
Bingo.
What a gruesome week. Not the worst one of my life by any means, but it does rank right up there, pretty close. I’d kept this daily diary, but if you want to skip the travelogue, the last few lines say it all.
Fri – Dec 3
Uneventful trip. The flight steward on our plane was a really nice guy, and he recommended Earls Court for reasonable accomodations. Tired, I found the first cheap hotel (hostel) outside the subway stop and took it for 2 nights so Myrna would have the London address she needs at customs. But it is a flea bag – well, no bugs but it is simply a ratty dormitory room with construction going on in the hallways, shared with three other guys for 15 pounds – just about $30/night. Everything in London is EXPENSIVE, 2-3x the cost in the US. I would like to get out of here quickly. Arranging to stay for several days was a mistake.
Myrna and I have been sending frantic email messages because American Airlines is denying her ticket, Guatemala to Miami. I’d called Maryam at WorldLink from Dar es Salaam after Myrna’s first frantic message, and Maryam ASSURED me that everything is OK. Tried to call Myrna but couldn’t reach her, so we are dealing only by email.
Sat – Dec 4
Called British Airways and was ASSURED that everything is OK. Got a reference number to call in case Guatemala does not agree somehow, and sent that to Myrna by email. Got Myrna’s number from my computer before the battery went dead, but still was unsuccessful in calling her, either by phone card or by internet connection.
By now I’ve sent 6 urgent emails to Maryam at WorldLink in Mwanza asking for immediate replies to both Myrna and me. Nothing! I’ve bought several international phone cards to try to reach Myrna – tried several internet cafes and a standard, old fashioned interational phone store. Can’t reach her! I hope she gets my emails before she freaks out.
I feel terrible. My toe hurts like crazy. My head hurts from worry. It is only 5:15 pm and feels like 1:00am. It will be terrible if Myrna can’t get on her flight tomorrow.
Fish and chips with a Foster’s at a pub was $16. Money is disappearing like water.
Sun – Dec 5
The email from Myrna this morning was so painful, and angry. It stressed her love and our need to be together – and the REFUSAL of American Airlines to allow her on the flight.
I went to the airport and worked with the Manager of Customer Service, British Airways. She was able to determine that when Myrna’s reservation had been changed to provide a better connection in Miami, notice of payment had not accompanied it. Therefore American Airlines had no record of payment for the ticket – but should have been able to figure that out, she said. So anyhow she fixed that, rebooked Myrna for tomorrow, and arranged to have a representative meet Myrna in Miami to assist her transfer. American Airlines was snippy, but finally confirmed that everything was in order now, and wrote out a request that, if any economy passengers are moved to 1st Class (the flight is overbooked by 20!) she should receive first consideration. That is the only special consideration I could get from them.
It was impossible to pin down whether the error was due to BA, AA or WorldLink, but really, they are ALL culpable in my view.
Otherwise, I moved to a decent (but $80/night, and lucky to get it) hotel, spent a few hours at the British Museum, and took in a London Symphony Orchestra concert at the Barbican Center. Wagner’s Tannheuser, the Brahms Double Concerto and then his Second Symphony. A wonderful evening of familiar music. I needed it!
No email from Myrna on my return to Earls Court. I hope that means she is on the plane. I won’t know until tomorrow. This trip is turning out to be a disaster, in every way. This MUST just be a nightmare. CAN’T be real, can it?
Monday, Dec 6
Jeez, today was Airport Day in Hell. I was at Heathrow from 9:00am until 9:30pm. Anything you want to know about Terminals 1 and 3, I can tell you. For instance, the ONLY telephone in the whole damn airport that works for Guatemala is in T-1, between the newsstand and the gift shoppe. The newsstand beside the Information booth is the ONLY that newsstand sells the Herald Tribune. The cheapest in-airport internet connection is $2.00 for 15 minutes.
The day began as usual, checking for emails from Myrna at the McDonalds. Her message was full of vitriol and called me a thoughtless scoundrel in numerous imaginative ways. I decided to check on her flight status at the airport before responding.
The British Airways people know me by now, so I only had to argue for about 20 minutes before they would confirm to me that Myrna had been a no-show in Guatemala. I finally found the phone that worked for Guatemala and called her, to learn that she had spent all day in church yesterday so had not checked her email. Therefore she didn’t know that I had arranged new tickets for her, although it sounded like she would not have used them anyway. It took NUMEROUS widely-spaced phone calls and email messages to reach her and calm her down, and convince her that I was doing everything I could on my end. But we even had to deal with the Why didn’t you come to Guatemala to Pick Me Up issue yet again.
Finally, she agreed that she would fly on Wednesday, but NOT tomorrow. She was sick, due to nerves and anxiety. The BA Customer Service Rep had already told me that I would have to buy a whole new ticket for her since she was a no-show. I didn’t know what to do about that, but FORTUNATELY the British Airways ticket desk had no problem with rescheduling her flight after I again related the whole sad tale. So the agent there set everything up, assured met that it was all in order and tried to dissuade me from even going to the American Air desk to confirm things there, because there could be no question that everything was in order.
I went to the American desk in the other Terminal anyway. I’d had enough assurances before that fell through. Sure enough, American had no information about any new change. Furthermore it appears that they didn’t even have the information on the prior change, so if Myrna HAD tried to fly yesterday, she could not have been permitted to anyway. That REALLY would have set her off! American couldn’t even revise the ticket with my providing them with the BA authorization and their calling the BA desk - they ended up having to create a whole new ticket of their own. How screwed up and two airlines be? Fortunately we have a whole day tomorrow for Myrna to confirm with the American desk in Guatemala and email me in case there is yet another problem.
So for most of this frustrating day, I just really felt beat up. By Myrna who hadn’t checked for new flight plans, by expensive London for being expensive, by both airlines, by my travel agent, by my painful ingrown toenail that doesn’t like the concrete London sidewalks at all.
I came back to Earls Court tired and hungry, and decided to treat myself to a little Thai restaurant near the subway stop. Wonderful choice. The food was succulent, delicious and authentic. It really took me back to the trip Matthew and I shared, so many years ago. The owner came around and introduced himself and his family. I’d been doing a little sketch of two other patrons until they left in the middle of my opus. The Thai staff saw it though, and wanted their portraits sketched also. So I did that. Got nice compliments and an excellent glass of white wine as a result. And an offer for another glass of wine the next time I drop in there. Which I do think I will do.
It was a very good way to end a day like this one.
Tuesday, Dec 7
I made yet another trip out to Heathrow this morning. It occurred to me that Myrna will be arriving in London at 10:00am on Thursday having spent about 12-14 hours in transit (10 ½ hrs actual flying time). Then we turn around and leave at 6:30pm for another 10 hours in the air. The poor woman – that just doesn’t work. It isn’t enough time to do anything in London, and still it is ‘way too much time to sit in the airport and stew.
So I went back to the ticketing office to British Air to see if we could use their Departure Lounge. I got a definite Maybe. It is up to the Manager On Duty that day. The agent I was working with was pretty discouraging, but after I recounted the sad tale, she wrote “Previously mishandled, do all ppossible to assist” into the file. So I think we have a chance, at least.
Then I went to Trafalgar Square to take some pictures of Lord Nelson on his pedestal. St. Martin in the Fields is also on the Square, and I just missed a concert there. The choir is presenting a program of carols tomorrow night though, so I may still hear more good music. Next I went to the National Portrait Gallery and took a fairly interesting tour with a knowledgeable docent there.
I went back to the same Thai restaurant for dinner. Talked to a woman who was reading the menu outside, to tell her that the place really is excellent. Turned out that Katerina Ring was in London for only one night, on her way from Zambia to Italy. She is an Italian artist, teaching art to students in Zambia for three months, as a volunteer. So we traded stories about Africa and teaching over dinner. Very interesting and entertaining meal.
And that was the day. No message from Myrna today. I hope everything is still on track.
Wednesday, Dec 9
Thursday morning, December 10th.
Couldn’t keep up the diary yesterday. Couldn’t see straight. It was the final cap to this horrid week.
I’d intentionally run myself low on cash, but overdid it a little and had to hit the ATM one more time. But when I went to a cash machine to replenish my wallet, I only got a message that I needed to contact my bank. This happens when there is sudden strange activity on an account that has been largely dormant, as a security system. And surely, with all my withdrawals and many credit card calls to Myrna – plus the calls that didn’t get through, or went flooey – the card activity light must have been flashing in panic. But the problem was compounded because the machine swallowed my card and wouldn’t give it back. So now I was stuck in the middle of London, destitute, without even enough money to make a phone call.
I still had some internet time on the chit I’d bought, so I got on the internet and found the address of the US Embassy (it is on Grosvenor Square) and spent the next hour and a half walking over there. It was a suitably bleak, gray day. Like my mood, at this point. Interesting walk though, from my residential area through the museum area – National History Museum, Virginia and Albert Museum – then the commercial area – Harrods et al – and finally Hyde Park. A troop of mounted guards in full regalia went by, I guess after the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace. Near the museums, I talked to a teacher with a batch of school kids and confirmed that British schools have not used the cane for discipline in many many years.
The embassy people were really quite helpful after I got past the guards who were trying to control the loong queue of people applying for visas. It apparently is not a very uncommon problem. They suggested that I call a friend in the US and have them wire me some money by Western Union, and gave me a phone to use. I couldn’t reach Allegra, so called Paul and he took time from his meeting to do that for me. Twenty minutes later I had some money again.
Spent the afternoon at the mildly interesting Tate Modern Museum, then went to St. Martin in the Fields for a community Christmas program and carol sing. I fully enjoyed that, and I felt the approach of the Christmas season for the first time. It felt good to sing again. I do miss singing with the Choral Arts Society a lot. This was just about the time that Myrna should be getting on the plan in Guatemala, and that felt good too.
I finally came back to the Earls Court station, and went back to the trusty McDonalds to check email messages and hopefully confirm that Myrna was on the way.
She wasn’t.
At long last, at the end, when it finally came down to it, she could not overcome her fears and had called American Airlines to cancel her reservation.
Bingo.
