Lushoto - Hiking in the Usambara Mountains

Along our journey to the coast from Moshi to Zanzibar, we stopped in Lushoto to do a bit of hiking. Lushoto is a modest town nestled in the thick rainforest of the Usambara Mountains. The mountains were inhabited by the Germans and the English during colonial times, as is evidenced by the numerous historic buildings lining the streets (we encountered German bunkers on our hike).

Jamie and I checked ourselves into a small local Christian hostel, where the owners communicated with a small notepad and a handful of jotted English translations (all of the essentials - what would you like to eat, sorry we do not have that, please, thank you, and of course the most vital translation, sexual intercourse). We spent the next day hiking through the mountains, visiting small villages along our way, minding the black and green vipers while hunting for chamealons. At 2000m it was time for lunch and we stopped into a local cheese factory for a bite.

After 9 hours of hiking and a hearty Tanzanian supper, we tucked ourselves in under our mosquito net and called it a night. A couple of days later we were off on yet another ridiculous tantastic voyage - Destination: ZANZIBAR!

Jamie at 2000m

Atop Irene Viewpoint

Lunch at the Action Safari Cafe

Farewell WODEF

I have no doubt that Jamie and I benefited more from our experience with WODEF than WODEF itself did. I feel that it took 2 months just to begin to understand life here. Whether we meant for it to or not, our time with WODEF and exposure to life in Africa will have a lasting impact on us. It has opened our eyes to so many realities.

Jamie and I set off down our dirt road on our last walk to WODEF on Friday morning. We stopped into the local photo shop to have photos from each of our WODEF groups printed and framed for gifts. I also planned to pop into the nearby curio to pick up scarves for the WODEF ladies. After our photos were finished, we headed to the curio shop which was closed so we headed to the WODEF office.

We were welcomed with hugs and were delighted to see that the Regional Director had come to bid us farewell as well the Siha director. Mr. Mambo greeted us with our official WODEF ID badges - I had to run back to the photo shop to have small photos printed for them. When they were finished, they looked pretty sharp.

Lovely snacks of andazi (Tanzanian doughnuts AKA greasy balls), samosas, milk tea and biscuits were prepared - everything was delicious. We gathered for a prayer and each of the WODEF executive took their turn to say a few words. I rounded up everyone for a picture and then went back to the photo shop once again to have 3 copies blown up, printed and framed. I ran to the curio shop and picked up enough scarves for all of the ladies.

I returned in time for the presentation of our certificates and letter of appreciation. The director then presented us with a card and gifts on behalf of the WODEF members. It was all so kind and much more than we had expected or could have asked for – we were both touched. It was our turn and we gave our card to the director and gave this morning’s photo to each of the directors for their offices. We also gave Genesis a framed picture that we took with his family. I then gave out the scarves to all of the ladies who were thrilled and all modeled them.

It was time to start our day of visiting WODEF groups to say our goodbyes. As we headed outside I looked at Jamie who was fighting back the tears and that’s when my waterworks began (he won’t admit this). After our hugs, Jamie, Genesis and I hopped on a dala to Mwanza to say goodbye to our WODEF members in the small village there. We arrived to a traditional dance and drums. We visited with everyone, took some pictures, had a little lunch and were presented with gifts. Afterwards we visited the dispensary and had another lunch there and said our goodbyes.

Our next stop was Njiapanda. We visited with our friends there and had yet another lunch and headed back to Moshi with very full bellies. Jamie was presented with an awesome zebra African shirt and another sharp African shirt and I received an African dress – gorgeous. We bid Genesis farewell and headed back to the hostel for cards and beers.

The next day I went shopping with some of the girls from the hostel and Jamie went to find himself a shave. We picked up an African game called Bao, a few more gifts, and took care of all of the odds and ends in Moshi that we had put off for 2 months. That night we visited with friends at the hostel and met up with one of our friends who left the hostel to live with a local family (our friend that helped Jamie knock out the power at the hostel while rigging the incubator wiring).

Wrapping up Life in Moshi

We recently received an excellent piece of news. Six weeks ago there had been a major power outage on Zanzibar and power was not expected to be returned until the end of July at the earliest. This had left the fate of the final 2 weeks of our trip in limbo as horror stories from people coming from Zanzibar were quite frequent. No food, no water, no electricity; all bad things. Then all of a sudden (if you can call a 6-week wait that) the power was back on. With our time in paradise secure trip morale was at an all-time high.

This was in sharp contrast with trip hygiene which had reached an all-time low. The 4-day trip back to Moshi, getting up at 6am every day and traveling had left us far too exhausted to shower (not to mention the thought of having cold showers again after 2 weeks of warm water). Having thrown out most of my dirty socks, I had been wearing the same pair for almost a week now an ironic twist of fate as they were now filthier than the ones I had thrown out. Once back at the hostel, we had no toiletries, towels, or change of clothes and we were nearing a full week without completely cleaning ourselves (there is always time for a rinse of the key areas). In Uganda I shaved for the 3rd time in 6 weeks, but on a busride my shaving cream exploded and after another 2 + weeks by beard was full. We epitomize dirt and dirt epitomizes us.

Our first day back in Moshi was supposed to be an office day but we decided to use it to stock up on souvenirs. Shopping in Moshi can actually be quite fun when you are interested in looking around/bartering and we picked up quite a few cool knick knacks for family and friends. Shopping in Moshi is hilarious. If a shopkeeper doesn’t have what you want he will run up the street to another shop that has it and bring it back. If the size is wrong, he will repeat the same. This has less to do with good service than wanting to get in on the highly coveted Mzungu commission which he is sure to miss out on if we find the product on our own. Unfortunately for most of the shopkeepers, we aren’t fresh off the boat anymore and having spent 2 months interviewing small business owners we know the actual Tanzanian price. We got almost everything for around 25% of the actual offered price. One good (and cheap) gift I picked up for a friend was an Arnold Swarzeneggar movie collection (63 Arnold Movies – many doubles – on 1 DVD). People walk around the streets of Moshi with 3 foot stacks of caseless DVD collections of new and old releases selling massive film collections for only $4. I don’t mind spoiling that gift because I’m fairly sure Colby MacIntyre will never read this blog as long as he lives. The rest of you will have to wait.

Our office day eventually led us to the internet café where we tried to catch up on e-mails and 2 weeks of world news. Checking my bank account I was very shocked to see that $225 had been debited from my account from an ATM transaction in which I had received no cash. I spent the rest of my day running back and forth between phoning my bank in Dublin and trying to sort out luggage with Precision Air. Noticing my frantic hustle, one elderly gentleman struck up a conversation with me. When he found out I was from Canada he told me he had been to Montreal once in 1976. When I asked him what for he told me he had boxed for Tanzania in the Olympics. Then he mistakenly took my attempt at a handshake as a request to start boxing my palm and threw a sequence of rights and lefts. He went on to tell me he was off to Italy in a week or so to study for his PHD in economics and we quickly discussed some of Tanzania’s first presidents economic policies. I could tell by the smell of beer on his breath that he liked to have the odd drink so I took down his number with the promise of grabbing a beer sometime and hearing some more good stories. On parting I asked him how he did in the Olympics, which he replied he won the gold medal. I went back to the internet café and looked up his name and when I received no hits, I googled Tanzania Montreal Olympics. Turns out Tanzania (along with almost every other African country) boycotted those Olympics and refused to participate. Despite his bullshit I was still tempted to go for a beer with him. Finally, I was eventually able to sort out my bank problem; Permanent TSB will put the money back in my account without investigation and if for some reason the Tanzanian bank disputes the matter they will take it back out. This was a level of efficiency which I was not used to and was quite shocking. I feel I will not be able to adapt to the normalcy of the western world when I return.

The next day was our first day back at WODEF. Katie had a bit of an upset stomach and flaked out, leaving me to visit the village by myself. She missed out on what might be one of the best WODEF days of all time. When we got to the village the WODEF group introduced me to some women working in the vocational training program. They had baked me a delicious cake and we sat and chatted over a tea for some bit. Then it was off to visit a few projects in the local market and beyond.

After visiting the usual projects (chicken, tailoring, and vegetable stand) we headed off for something a little different. Visit to not one but two Masai villages! The first village sang a song and gave me a traditional Masai neck circle bead thing and a necklace. Not to be outdone, the next village had a little ceremony for us and gave me a beaded Masai chief/elder’s stick. They thanked me for the work I had been doing for Widows, Orphans, and Disabled and told me I was now one of them and welcome in the Masai village at anytime. It was one of the nicest presentations I’ve received to date. Then they proceeded to shower our entourage with bracelets, necklaces, and anything else. After the presentation we sat and talked to some of the village elders about the little projects they run. I always enjoy visiting Masai villages because they have almost completely maintained all of their old traditions and have no western comforts. There are different mudhuts with thatched roofs for males, women and kids. Children still have ears stretched for ear rings, cheeks burnt to keep out mosquitoes, and men take on many many wives and have many more children (One of the guards at our hostel has 72 half brothers and sisters!). Then they either raise cattle or farm on their massive plains of land. It was definitely one of my favorite days at WODEF and a highlight of the trip.

I know Katie wants to write further in depth about our last day at WODEF but I suppose I may as well add my thoughts about 2 months spent volunteering. Some of the best days of my life were at WODEF but also some of the most frustrating and annoying. They are very unorganized and seem to lack any real direction. As notifications of grants would roll in (grants which usually were for organizations with quite specific and different goals from WODEF’s) they would attempt to tailor-make new programs at the last minute to try and receive funding. They are quite young and it’s hard to know how much of this is growing pains and how much is just a leadership issue. I also think they may have grown too fast, with over 10,000 members in 4 regions of Tanzania. It makes it difficult to provide any real benefit to the members when a small head office is stretched extremely thin. The way we were handled at first was extremely annoying, we were given no real structure, no program, and it took almost one month to figure out a general idea of how WODEF worked. At times it felt like we were paraded around as the great white hope, rich Mzungus here to provide money for schools, projects, orphans, and anyone else who should so feel the need to want it.

On the positive side I think the seminars we taught are very beneficial and important. Most project-operators we met would say that lack of capital is the only problem facing their business when for many of these people they have no discernable goals or ideas for what to do with money if they were to receive it. If somebody in the town has a successful project many identical copycats open up right away. None of the projects have any discernable difference and owners will just compete on price harming the shopkeepers. One village almost everybody had a chicken project, radically reducing the price of chickens and eggs while almost everything else has to be imported from Moshi, Dar Es Salaam and Arusha with steep prices, most of the economic benefits leaving the town.

Accounting for most people is limited to purchasing your supplies at the beginning of the day and what is left over in your hand at the end of the day is your profit. One woman we met told us how she had the capacity to sell an extra bag of maize a week but didn’t have the funds to do it as she was a struggling single mother. Then she listed off her expenses which included extraordinarily high cell phone and hair dressing costs. We showed her that if she reduces here cell phone costs to 75% of current levels and hairdressing to half that in just over 2 months she could buy the extra bag of maize herself and increase her weekly profit from just $1 to $25. Who knows if she decided to make those changes. These are all main themes we tackled in our lectures. Some people came up afterwards and heartily thanked us, said they were rethinking their whole business. The people here are very smart, they just need to be exposed to some new ideas and move away from thinking of more money as a solution to their problems.

I feel we gained infinitively more personally volunteering then we could ever possibly put back into it. Unlike many pretentious volunteers I had no delusions of grandeur heading into this and was not expecting to save the world through my particular experience. What I received from WODEF was an insight into the day to day lives and problems of Tanzanians far greater than I could have gotten from anything else. The education translated into some of my own ideas for development, such as the incubator projects and the bulk of our entrepreneurship lectures. I hope I will be able to put a few more ideas to work in the future. Some of the things we have seen and done will take a while to sink in. Hopefully they will allow us to make a more direct and meaningful contribution in the future.

Many of the problems we experienced with WODEF we shared with them on our last day and made some recommendations going forward in the future. They listened attentively, thanked us for our input and support to building a better group but didn’t ask any follow up questions. I was left unsure whether our feedback was actually received or if us talking was just a one-way street.

The rest of the week was filled with dinners with colleagues, friends, and assorted random encounters. It flew by far quicker than we had hoped for and before we knew it, it was time for our last day in Moshi.

Rwanda – Land of a Thousand Hills

From the Border to Kigali

Rwanda unquestionably lives up to its nickname the “Land of a Thousand Hills.” Its scenery is extraordinary – virtually the entire landscape was transformed into hills as Jamie and I crossed the border. We made our way from Uganda and crossed the Rwandan border without much hassle (escaped a horde of money changes shoving wads of cash into our faces). We hired a taxi complete with complimentary bananas and after picking up a couple of hitch hikers, arrived in Kigali, Rwanda’s capital city.

We were dropped off in Kigali’s main bus terminal and hopped onto a boda, strapped on our helmets, and drove to Hotel Kigali (our lives didn’t flash before our eyes for a change!). Hotel Kigali was a comfortable (minus the cold water and missing toilet seat cover!) hotel run by locals, located on the edge of Kigali, overlooking the slums (densely populated with very poor housing units). We had nabbed a 2003 edition of Lonely Planet from the hostel library, which recommended many places to eat. Getting hungry, we took a taxi to Eden Garden for some local grub, but unfortunately the restaurant had since been replaced by a welding shop. This was a frequent occurrence so we ended up scrapping the guide book.

The next day we set out on a hunt for an ATM as we were running low on Rwandan Francs. Unbelievably, there are NO ATM’s in Rwanda!! We had to get cash advances from our Visas and Mastercard from the bank. After a cash injection, we set out to tour the city.

The Rwandan infrastructure and roads were top-notch. Kigali itself was a very nice and well-kept French-speaking city. Beggars were few and far between (the majority of beggars we encountered had missing limbs, particularly hands). Speed limits were followed, dalas enforced the maximum passenger rule and helmets were mandatory for boda boda rides, and there were crosswalks – how civilized!

We hopped on a bus tour around Kigali – although the tour was only us and one other goofy looking Belgian reporter. Our first stop was the school where the Belgian soldiers were executed during the 1994 genocide by the Hutu extremists (guaranteeing a withdrawal of the Belgian contingent). Nine of the young men were executed inside the building while one soldier was shot outside after attempting escape. There was a beautiful memorial on the property dedicated to these soldiers. Inside the school was also a memorial site as well as a small, informative genocide museum.

We visited the Hutu power station where RLTM broadcast vitriolic propaganda against Tutsis and Hutu moderates. We then visited the National Genocide Museum which was built by the Rwandan government and is home to a mass grave of 256,000 Tutsis (and Hutu dissenters) that were killed during the 1994 genocide. The museum is absolutely beautiful. Words can’t express the feelings while walking through the museum and grounds.

Next stop was the real Hotel Rwanda (from the film), located in the heart of the Kigali city centre. We were informed that this film portrayed portrayed Paul Rusesabagina (Done Cheadle), the manager of Sabena Hotel des Mill Collines, in an incorrect light. Mr. Rusesabagina did in fact house his wife and family members (the numbers in the film greatly inflated the actual number), but many of them were charged a hefty price for this service.

We also visited some of the newer and nicer districts of Kigali. One area was called the “Bel-Air of Kigali” and definitely lives up to its name with houses that would make some of the wealthiest Canadians blush – golf courses and tennis courts for locals included. We then went through a planned low-income housing development the government is building for people living in the slums. They have already started moving families out of poorer areas into big houses in a very nice part of town for no cost to the locals. In many ways in Rwanda there is a sense that the government is actually committed to providing tangible services to people and improving lives which is absent in Uganda and particularly Tanzania.

After the grand tour, Jamie and I headed on a mad hunt for Ethiopian food. After a wild goose chase of a taxi ride we finally landed at the perfect little Ethiopian restaurant. We walked in to blaring country western music and the most delicious aroma. Ethiopian food is the pinnacle of African culinary achievements. You are served a huge flat piece of sour bread (close to the size of the table) on which we had 7 or 8 different dips of varying spice (including goat ribs, goat, spinach, pork, chick peas, chicken). You break off little pieces of the bread, roll your food up into it and eat. The meal was absolutely incredible and afterwards we chatted with a very funny Ethiopian employee while we waited for our taxi. After an hour, there was no sign of our taxi so we set off to the nearest dala stand with another employee who happened to be a ridiculously giddy and chatty, aspiring reggae musician. He was on a mission to find us the cheapest possible means of transport possible. He scored us a very cheap dala ride and was overjoyed by his accomplishment.

Butare – The Intellectual Capital of Rwanda

The next morning we headed south to Butare, the intellectual capital of Rwanda. Butare is a nice little dusty town home to very friendly locals. We found a little hostel off the main town road run by locals which was perfect for the night (check out the security system!).

Our first stop was the National Museum of Rwanda, which was a gift from the Belgians to commemorate 25 years of independence. The museum was very nice and informative of Rwandan history.

The following day we had plans to visit Gikongoro, a small town close to Butare, with one of Rwanda’s larger genocide museums. Jamie and I researched the museum beforehand and had mixed emotions about visiting the museum (it is home to thousands of preserved Tutsi bodies on display). We both agreed that we did not feel up to seeing this so we opted for some souvenir shopping, grabbed an ice cream and headed back to Kigali to move onwards to Kibuye.

Beautiful Lake Kibo

The bus ride to Kibuye was incredible. The scenery was stunning as we ascended and descended to varying altitudes through the hills. As we drove down the mountain and caught our first glimpse of Lake Kibo it took our breath away. The calm lake was cradled by mountains galore, views of the Congo in the distance. We pulled into the local bus stop and hopped on bodas to the Bethanie Hotel. We arrived at the hotel, a little piece of heaven, located just meters from the lakeside and we were in luck - there was one room left.

The only thing on the agenda for the next day was laziness. We spent the day relaxing and reading in the sun. I went for a dip in the lake while Jamie sat on the shore with his feet dangling in the water and read. It was so refreshing to be in the water that I stayed in for 3 hours. Jamie took a few photos and met a lovely local couple of newly weds and chatted with them until I was out. My hands looked like prunes which amused our new friends.

Our game plan was to drive from Rwanda to Mwanza, a town in Western Tanzania, and then fly to Kilimamjaro airport from there rather than take the bus back through Uganda and Kenya. We would have to travel from Kigali to Rusomo, a small border town in Rwanda and then enter Tanzania. We had expected this journey to take approximately 1 night and 2 days.

The Long Road Back to Moshi

The next morning we headed to the bus stop to catch a lift into Kigali. We had a 2 hour delay so we sat in a local café and had a Fanta while we watched the hustle and bustle of the little town.

We pulled into Kigali just in time to miss our bus to Rusomo so we were stuck in Kigali for the night. We checked into a nice nearby hotel, had some supper, watched some movies and headed to bed.

6AM the next morning we found ourselves jammed back into another dala headed for the Tanzanian border. 5 hours later we arrived in Rusomo and crossed the border (walking over the Rusomo Falls) back onto Tanzanian soil. We instantly changed back to speaking Swahili and moments after crossing the border were greeted with a “jambo” - it felt good to be back.

After getting our Tanzanian Visas, we jumped in a taxi and headed to Benako (a little town with the closest bus station) where we would catch a bus to Mwanza. We arrived in Benako in time to find out there were no busses to Mwanza until tomorrow. Plan B was to take a bus to the next town Kahama where we could get a bus to Mwanza. After milk tea and a chapati, we were ready to roll.

The drive to Kahama was awesome – North Western Tanzania has much different scenery than we are used to in the Kilimanjaro and Northern Region. The land was very dry and desert-like. There appeared to be very few watering holes and the ones we saw were full of locals bathing and collecting water. The vegetation was also completely different – there were lots baobab trees and cattle far outnumbered crops. There seemed to be storks everywhere (the most disgusting, dirty, prehistoric-looking birds on the planet).

After several pit stops into villages along the way we arrived in dirty little Kahama to a giant mob at the bus station. This was by far the most intimidating crowd that we have experienced to-date. A huge shouting mob grabbed our bags and took us into one booking office. Offering us only Mzungu prices, we told the guy we would think about it and come the next day. On the way out of the bus park we bumped into another man who was offering us the same tickets for half the price. They offered to show us to a guest house but when we arrived it had many drunk men in the office, no electricity, or service to be found. We politely declined and proceeded to the nearest hostel which was not a recipe for a robbery. Our room there was lit by Christmas lights and looked like something out of the red light district, but it would do.

The next morning we ended up booking with the cheaper bus alternative. While we were waiting inside the little booking office we heard some commotion outside. The man that we first discussed tickets with was very drunk (at 7:30 am) and very angry that we didn’t do business with him. He went on a drunken rant about us outside with his friends and then came into the booking office. With broken English he expressed his anger. He told us that he was Somali (we both just finished reading a book about Somalia which characterizes Somalis as being violent and ill-tempered) and then proceeded to ramble about his life story, seeming to forget his anger. We made it onto our bus in one piece and headed to Mwanza.

The bus ride was bumpy and slow. It had a horn that sounded like it was straight out of the circus and it almost tipped over on one of the dirt roads. Two of the little boys behind me tapped me on the shoulder to strike up a nice little conversation and then wrapped it up by asking me for 1000 TSH. Classic Tanzanian bus ride.

As we approached Mwanza, the landscape changed again. Giant boulders started speckling the landscape. This was perhaps because we were approaching Lake Victoria (second biggest lake in the world to Canada’s Lake Superior – in your face Tanzania). Mwanza is a coastal town located on the lake and is a nice bustling little town. When we arrived in Mwanza we headed to PrecisionAir to book our flights. We missed the last flight for that day and flights were booked to Kilimanjaro for the following day. Jamie and I then headed to find a hotel, do some wandering and grab some chicken and chips and beers.

We stopped into PrecisionAir the next morning in hopes of flight cancellations for that day. Believe it or not, we were in luck. After packing we headed to the airport which turned out to be a hilariously tiny little building. We checked ourselves through security and chilled in the lounge with a few beers. Our flight was delayed and as we boarded the flight attendant added “it is too hot out. Your luggage won’t be on this plane.” We weren’t surprised. The plane was a propeller plane and very small. We were served a snack box containing apples and hot dogs. I thought we might die.

We made it back to Moshi in one piece and were greeted by our pals at the hostel. I sat down on the lawn in the backyard to tell stories and sat on a safari ant nest (see pic) – the pinching ants ran up the back of my shirt and down the back of my pants. That night I had a very itchy back and bottom. That night we also adopted a baby salamander who was attacked by a bigger salamander – we made him a little home in our room. He escaped or was eaten during the night.

A bit of an after note about our luggage - It was supposed to arrive the next day at 2 o’clock. At 2 o’clock Jamie showed up at the Precision Air office and surprise surprise – no luggage! They told him flights from Mwanza land at 3 and the shuttle will drop any luggage off at 4. At 4:30 he went back and was told that the luggage had arrived but the shuttle driver hadn’t wanted to wait for it so it was left at the airport. They assured us that it would be on the first shuttle tomorrow, set to arrive at 10 am. About an hour later the airport called Jamie and told him to come out the airport because it was easier than sending the luggage to Moshi. He told them that the hour long trip to the airport around dinner time was certainly not easier for him and to send it in the morning to Moshi. By 4 PM the next day the luggage finally arrived. We opened out our bag at home eager to change our clothes for the first time in almost a week to find that some of our clothes had been stolen from the bag. Ashante Sana PrecisionAir.