Friday
Yes, I just skipped Tuesday, Wednesday,
and Thursday. I was traveling all 3
days, and a lot happened so I’ll be sure to fill you in with this blog. I just wanted to start with Tanzania since
I’m here now!
[Beautiful]
I awoke to the sound of waves crashing
into rocks and the sound of donkeys screaming.
Which would have been so much more relaxing without the donkeys. But they weren’t as bad as the chickens
elsewhere, so I was pretty much able to snooze till 8:15.
I got out of bed and fumbled my way to
the bathroom, since they don’t have power during the day. Why waste electricity when you can use
sunlight? It’s brilliant in concept, but
when you’re not familiar with where everything is, it becomes a bit
treacherous.
I pulled at the sink handle, hoping it
had been repaired, because it was broken the day before. Thankfully, water rushed out of the
faucet. I don’t ever think about
thanking God for water in the faucet in America, but I think I might just try
to every now and then.
I opened the door to use the
toilets. They don’t flush toilet paper
here, which reminds me slightly of the time I built houses in Mexico for spring
break. They didn’t flush toilet paper
either. Which is a funny habit to get
used to.
I held my nose because they conserve
water by not always flushing. “If it’s
yellow let it mellow. If it’s brown,
flush it down.” Eeew.
Yesterday the toilets weren’t flushing at
all, so we deposited our “brown” waste in another toilet across campus that did
flush. So our “yellow” water has been
“mellowing” for quite some time now.
I’m not sure at what point yellow water
becomes so dark and smelly that it looks brown so I’m allowed to finally flush
the toilet.
I’ll be sure to consult Julia, my guide
to Tanzanian culture and the Swahili language.
……………………………………………………………………….
I fumble through my bag for the remaining
clean clothes I own: a black and brown skirt, a purple tank top, and a green
tank top.
I suppose it’s not really important to
match at this point.
Not that I really have much of a
choice. I left a drawer full of clothes
in Zambia on accident. I was planning to
leave all the shirts, except for 1, in Tanzania so it’s not really a big
deal. I figure God needed them to stay
in Zambia more. Which is ok, I just only
have 1 t-shirt and 4 tank tops to wear now.
So matching isn’t really an option at
this point.
But at least being clothed is still an
option.
……………………………………………………………………………….
Julia and I walk down to the cafeteria of
the school to get our morning Chi.
That’s the Swahili word for tea.
The chi is warm and sweet and slightly reminiscent of fruit loops.
I think it might be lemongrass tea!
Or at least a close cousin of lemongrass!!
Which I’ve been dyeing to drink since I
left Cameroon and I’m thrilled to start my morning with it. We also have a slice of bread that I dip into
my tea pretending it’s biscotti. Not
that I really like biscotti, but I think I like it better than plain, white
bread. It’s a bit fancier.
One of the kids threw a piece of crust
towards the cat. I assumed it was to
shoo the cat away, but no. The cat
pounced on it like a lion might pounce on a mouse. Then it continued to rip it to shreds while
consuming the bread.
Note to self: Tanzanian cats that are
full grown but still look like kittens are actually quite ferocious. Avoid contact if possible.
Julia went to work and I finished my chi
while overlooking Lake Victoria.
Did I mention the JFBC compound is right
on the bank of Lake Victoria? Because it
is, and it is beautiful, peaceful, and unlike anywhere I’ve lived in the
world. There’s a relaxing “sea” breeze. There are mountains off in the distance. There are rocks on our side making a small
hill. There are chairs set up to face
the lake. I could stay here forever.
Except that there are a few more things
I’m not wild about.
One, in particular, being the bugs. They’re everywhere. Some buzz, some crawl, some fly, and some
land in my wine.
Last night, after fishing a bug out of my
wine and continuing to drink it, I considered myself fully assimilated with the
culture.
………………………………………………………………………………..
……………………………………………………………………………….
So Tuesday, Frances and I took a 7 hour
bus from Livingstone, Zambia, to Lusaka, Zambia which is the capitol and where
our plane flew out of. On the bus ride
we watched Hanna again. Only the sound
was off and on (we think it might be because the copy is an African bootleg
version of the movie) so I still don’t really know what was going on in the movie. So I still want to watch it in America
sometime. We also re-watched The
Chaperone, which wasn’t worth re-watching, but the sound worked so now I’ve
seen it twice and still wouldn’t really recommend it.
When we arrived at Lusaka Backpackers we
got a key to a log cabin. How cute. Only, not bug-proof. We hunted down a second mosquito net,
thankfully.
We had no internet accesss, as they had
internet but did not have any more slips to sell us the internet. Our room was only big enough for 2 beds and
our luggage. It was still early, like 7
pm, so we walked out to the common area where there was a pool and a bar and a
TV with some pre-game soccer starting.
We deciced to join the festivities and have a beer and watch the
game. Manchester United was playing some
smaller team. We had our last bottle of
Mosi, the Zambian beer, for the trip and watched the game, talking about life,
until half-time. The score was still 0-0
and we were pretty exhausted from traveling all day, so we called it a night.
We awoke the next morning and showered,
feeling instantly refreshed! It would be
our last shower in Zambia before we both had long days of traveling ahead of
us.
We grabbed filtered (not instant!!)
coffee, and sat down to write since we had no internet access. Again.
While I was getting dressed that morning,
I discovered I left my shirts in Kafulafuta, Zambia. Nice move.
Oh, well, I suppose God needed them more there than in Tanzania where I
was planning to leave them before I returned home.
After finishing coffee, we decided to
pack up for the airport since Frances had told her parents she would contact
them when we got to Lusaka backpackers and if they hadn’t heard from her by the
time they woke up, they should call the embassy, worried.
We heard the airport had internet, and so
as not to worry the parents, we embarked early.
Which was a pointless move because the
airport definitely did not have internet, but it did make us wait to check in.
We had to pass all our bags through
security before we were allowed to check our bags. I was stopped and my bags were searched
because they thought they saw food in my bag. I told them I had popcorn and
granola bars, and was a bit worried they might take away my food. But the lady at security just wanted to see
my food, not actually eat it.
Maybe she wanted some. I guess they didn’t see the millions of
pounds of toothbrushes or bars of soap or toothpaste that I was carrying along
with me.
We checked our bags in, and since the
scales were broken we “estimated” the weight of our luggage for the lady at the
check-in counter.
We guessed they were all within our
weight limit (30 kilograms) because we hadn’t been in the same room as a scale
since we packed them. Maybe that was
God’s way of sliding us through security without making us pay any fines.
When we got to Johannesburg that
afternoon, we discovered that we had packed 2 liters of water in one of the
bags. We meant to drink that. We took them out before Frances flew the bag
to America. And thankfully we did,
because her bag was too heavy, so she had to transfer almost 20 lbs to the pink
(shared bag full of curios) bag. She was
able to transfer enough weight to avoid paying any fees.
My flight didn’t leave Johannesburg until
almost midnight, so I couldn’t check my bag in.
We ate a quick meal at KFC since it was much cheaper than any of the
other restaurants in the airport. We
also stopped by the internet café to check emails and say hi to family and
friends.
Then we said goodbye.
I hate saying goodbye. Especially to someone I’ve spent so much time
with. We shared every moment, every
challenge, and every piece of joy for the past month. She knows exactly what I’ve thought about
everything. And now she’s going back to
America while I wait to be able to check in my bags.
I almost wished I was going with
her. Back to America. Back to my fiancé. Back to my friends. Back to chips and salsa and sangria. Back to food, family, fun, familiar.
Not traveling all alone to a country I’d
never been to before.
But we said goodbye over the last of our
Hit cookies and parted ways.
……………………………………………………
I passed the time by eating my KFC mashed
potatoes slowly. Then looking in all the
airport gift shops. Then finally playing
some card game in my hands that I don’t think I was playing right because I
didn’t really do much with the cards.
But I was getting tired and I just needed something to do with my hands.
I got in line to check my bags around 10
pm that night. They were unable to print
my boarding pass for Dar Es Salaam, the capitol of Tanzania, at the first
checkpoint so I continued along to the counter.
I had my itinerary, and the updated itinerary I printed right before I
left America, almost a month after booking the flight, that had my 2nd
plane flight bumped back an hour.
They were unable to find my reservation
for the plane flight. I pulled out my
payment conformation letter. I’m not
sure why I printed it and carried it with me, but I did. They called the manager over who was able to
determine that I “had not paid” for the flight so my reservation was cancelled.
Good thing I printed the payment
confirmation email! And I distinctly remember getting a call from my credit
card company asking if I really did buy a plane ticket from Johannesburg to
Tanzania, because I had never been to either place and I didn’t pay with a
credit card for my flights to Johannesburg.
I authorized the payment. And I
remember paying the bill for my flight that month because it was considerably
higher than normal.
What happened?
Did my credit card company cancel the
transaction? That would be unusual. And I had JUST checked my email and I never
received a notice that my booking was dropped because I “failed to pay.”
Something here smells fishy.
I stood next to the counter,
thinking. What if they don’t find my
reservation? What if I didn’t actually
pay? Will I have to stay the night in
Johannesburg? Where will I sleep? Will I have to pay again? Will I get a refund? Will I be able to contact Julia and let her
know I’m not coming when I thought?
Oh man.
The manager took my payment confirmation
email and walked up to the office as I decided not to worry, that God was in
control, and he has a reason for everything.
And I’m not alone. He’s here with me, making sure his will is
getting done.
The manager finally returned with a new
itinerary for me. Turns out 2 more of my
flight times had also been changed. He
wanted to keep my payment paper, and reminded me I had a copy in my email. I’ll just have to remember to print another
one before I leave to go home in case something happens.
Sure enough though, when I got to the
house in Tanzania, I looked up my credit card statement and I paid. I don’t know what happened, but I’m thankful
it all got worked out.
………………………………………………………………..
From Johannesburg we flew to Dar Es
Salaam. I got off the plane at 4 am,
after having tried to sleep in the aisle seat of the plane, and being mildly
unsuccessful at it.
I walked in a sleepy state, following the
crowd of people down the stairs towards passport control. I filled in the necessary entry permit, all
except for address because I hadn’t thought to print the JFBC address. And I couldn’t even remember the initials
JFBC at the time (I was getting it confused with JMBC in Cameroon) and I didn’t
want to lie, so I left that line blank.
I included the address with my visa,
shouldn’t that be ok?
I handed the passport officer my
paperwork and the only thing he said was “sister, where are you staying?” If I knew, certainly I would have filled in
the blank. I told him I didn’t know
where, but I was staying with a friend and she was picking me up. That seemed to placate him, because he got my
giant stamp out, and I got an entry stamp in my passport right across from the
visa.
I walked towards someone who looked
official because I wasn’t sure where to go next. I needed to get to the check in counter to
print my next boarding pass. I was told
my luggage was checked all the way through to Mwanza airport.
But that was a lie.
I was told to wait for my bag by the same
great manager that helped me earlier. If
I didn’t shake his hand earlier and thank him for his help, I would have
thought he was just an angel sent from God to help me get to Tanzania. I found it and put it through the customs
scanner because that was my only option.
They let it pass straight through.
I was afraid to be stopped by customs, but I never got stopped,
thankfully. Then I was pointed down a
long hall that looked more like an alley-way.
I followed another passenger that was in a business suit. Surely, if we were going to get mugged, he
would get hit first.
We made it to another scanner and I
passed my luggage through with no problems.
Which is nice, I guess if there was a problem they would have found it
at any one of the 8 scanners I had been through in the past 2 days.
I walked to the counter and the man was
able to print my boarding pass with no problems, mercifully. I don’t know what I would have done if I had
problems again.
He weighed my bag, but I knew it was 25
kg because they put a tag on my tag stating the weight. I was allowed to carry 30 kg according to the
website, because I was flying internationally since I originated in South
Africa.
However, once I picked up my bag, the
flight from Dar to Mwanza was considered domestic.
So I was only allowed 23 kg.
Tricky.
He let my bag through being 2 kg over
without making me pay a fee. He told me
that I wouldn’t be allowed to have that much over on my way home, but he knew
the flight wasn’t full so I was allowed to carry a bit more weight. Awesome!
I had prayed about what to take out of my
bag before I left Livingstone because my bag was too heavy to lift, and the
hostel we stayed at worked with a local orphanage, so anything we donated would
get put to good use. I took out half the
toothpaste and crayons and notebooks, because those were the heaviest items. I also took out the bag of jolly ranchers
because I still had chocolate and fruit snacks for the children and I didn’t
figure they needed the jolly ranchers too.
And they were the heaviest snack I packed.
Turns out I took out exactly what needed
to be taken out. I’m sure the orphans in
Livingstone will be thankful for the crayons and sweets and other items!
………………………………………………………………..
After checking my bag I made it through
the last security checkpoint. I sat down
and journaled, waiting for my plane numbers to be called.
First was a flight to Mt.
Kilimanjaro. Then was a flight to
Mwanza, but all these passengers had orange boarding passes and I had a white
one.
A few other people with white boarding
passes got up to go (because it was around the time our boarding pass listed
for us to board the plane) but they were turned away. After the crowd made their way to the plane I
walked up to the flight attendant with my white boarding pass and made sure I
wasn’t about to miss my plane. She shook
her head no and spoke in another language, so I guess that meant I wasn’t
supposed to board. Because if I was she
would have grabbed my boarding pass.
Not 3 minutes later, it was our turn to
board our plane to Mwanza. I’m not sure
about you, but if I knew there were 2 planes flying to the exact same place, I
would have tried to get a bigger plane and make a deal with the other company.
But maybe that’s why I’m not in the
airplane business.
I got back on the exact plane flying from
Dar Es Salaam to Mwanza. I just sat 3
rows back. Really, it would have been
nice not to get off the plane at all, but I guess if I hadn’t gotten off, I
wouldn’t have gotten an entry stamp in my passport and I would be without any
of my luggage.
So I guess it was a good thing I got
off.
Our plane wasn’t completely packed, so I
wondered again why there were 2 planes flying to Mwanza at the same time.
We were flying above a thick blanket of
clouds, which was a shame because I was hoping to get a look at Mt.
Kilimanjaro. I had a window seat
too. They announced something in another
language, probably Swahili, and I heard the word Kilimanjaro. I looked out my window and sure enough, there
was a mountain peak sticking up out of the thick blanket of clouds.
[What I assume to be Mt. Kilimanjaro]
How neat!
Thanks God! Now I have my own
picture of it!!
I touched down in Mwanza and we rode a
bus to the small airport building. It
was even smaller than the airport in Ndola.
The smallest one yet. I walked
through the building to find Julia Ando with a sign that said Kalibu
Shannon!! I wasn’t so sure about the
Kalibu, but I was SO SO thankful to see
her, a few tears slipped from my eyes.
I had traveled many days, many hours, and
had almost not made it to Tanzania for several reasons. (lost bookings, overweight bags, unknown
address for where I was staying) But God has me here for a reason, and He is
much bigger than any of the tricks the enemy has up his sleeves!
Julia, a girl named Stephanie from New
Orleans, and a girl named Kayci from Tulsa and I walked next door to have
breakfast. We had a quick breakfast of
instant coffee in warm milk with 2 spoonfuls of sugar, which I have decided is
the best way to drink instant coffee. We
ate some kind of fried dough filled with beef and vegetables. Then we had a “girls day out” in the town, because
we had a few errands to run.
I felt a bit like I was sleepwalking, but
not too bad. I really just needed a nap,
but since that wasn’t really an option, I followed Julia around trying to keep
my head above water.
…………………………………………………………………….
We stopped at the bank and pulled out
money. 1600 shillings is = to 1
dollar. I’m so confused with Kwacha and
Rand and Tanzanian Shillings. It’s so
much more trouble than dollars! But
about 8000 is = to $5 and 10,000 is about $6, which is what my money is in
denominations of.
We went to the post office where the
girls mailed post-cards. I got a few to
mail out next time we’re in town!
We went to the grocery store called U
Turn. Ok. Julia and Stephanie and Kayci all had lists
of things to buy and I just floated around trying to be helpful but not really
doing much. It was the biggest grocery
store in town, but it was only half the size, maybe even smaller, than any of
the stores in Ndola. Which surprised me. We got the basics like sugar and flower and
granola and almonds, and then a few fun things like wine and cheese and
tortilla chips!
We also got ice cream, which made me
really happy!!
Then we went to market, which was quite
similar to markets in Zambia and Cameroon, thousands of small shops with
mismatched inventories from who-knows-where and brightly colored fabric and salesmen
trying to convince you to buy their products.
We got Julia a nice French press.
Well, I bought Julia a nice French press because then we can drink delicious
coffee together and she can continue to drink good coffee when I’m gone. It was kinda a selfish purchase meant to be a
blessing to her, but she was super excited about it, so the goal was achieved!
We found Stephanie a dress and Julia some
chitengue fabric (they call it a chitengue here, but I think they pronounce it
a bit different). They also have some
kind of fabric that looks like a chitengue but isn’t as long and has a border
on it, that they call something else.
Julia really bought that thing.
Then we bought fruit and vegetables and
held them in wicker baskets which made me incredibly happy.
Carrots and tomatoes and onions and zucchini
and mangos and pineapples and limes and cilantro and avocados and peanuts!
It was fabulous!!
SO exciting!!
Except everything was done in Swahili,
which I have never heard before today, and I was really lost.
We finished shopping and drove home. We had a great late lunch of Nshima/ some word that starts with a U here
but means the same thing and beans.
Delicious.
We sorted my things out for the
kids. I washed all my clothes.
By hand.
For the first time ever.
It took a lot more effort than I thought
it would. Then we hung all the clothes
on a line to dry.
Then I took a quick nap.
After napping I met all the children and got
a quick tour of the school and Children’s Home and then it started pouring down
rain.
I met Chris briefly. He’s 26 and he bought and built this children’s
home and school. He had somewhere to go
and Stephanie and a bunch of rabbits went with him. If I had been more awake I would have
remembered where they went maybe, but I think we’re meeting up with them to go
camping on Saturday, so maybe I’ll find out then.
When it finished raining we tried to
navigate the showers. Julia told me
there are 3 showers. Only 1 has a light.
Only 2 drain. Only 1 has working
hot and cold water. Only 2 have doors.
So which one is the best to use?
The middle one, the one without a door,
is the only one that has hot and cold water.
It’s also the only one that drains.
It isn’t the one with the light, which makes for a dark shower.
But at least it’s a warm, dark shower
instead of a cold one or a boiling hot one.
We used a chitengue as a door (yet
another great use for this multi-functional piece of cloth!) I got fabulously clean (the kind of clean
that you don’t realize is possible because you’ve traveled for so long that you
just think the dirt is a part of you)!
So problem solved! Well, solved as good as it can be for here I
guess.
…………………………………………………………………..
That night Julia, Kayci, and I drank red
wine and cooked quesadillas and made guacamole and had salsa. It was a fabulous meal and I was really
thankful for it!! It made me feel at home. We ate at a table overlooking Lake
Victoria.
Then we went to bed and I slept like a
log. Wonderfully!
…………………………………………………………………..
So, I’m officially in Kitonga, Tanzania now. I’ll be doing health check-ups on all the
girls at the Children’s home starting next week. I’m so excited to be here!! Hopefully I’ll pick up some more Swahili on
the way :)
Continue to look for more blog updates
next Monday!
Lord, My life is in your hands!!
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