The day I almost died cutting into Zuccini.

Sunday

We woke up Sunday morning with the light and the chickens on the farm.

We feasted on (semi) tasty black coffee with a heap of sugar in it and rice and beans for breakfast.  When I got here I was SO excited about eating rice and beans.  Now that I eat it for practically every meal, I’m not so excited anymore.

We returned from camping sleepy and exhausted at 10:30 am.  On our way home we stopped at a 3^rd grocery store in town, Nono grocery.  We got an ice cream bar that tasted like the milk had gotten warm, separated fat from ice, and then re-frozen.  Not delicious, but we had already paid for it and breakfast wasn’t super great either, so I ate it.

I showered and got ready for church at 11.  The cafeteria at the Children’s Home doubles as their Church too.  Church consisted of a lot of praise, then the “choir” got up (which was pretty much all the girls) and sang some more praise.  Then one of the older girls read Psalms 1:1-2 in Swahili.  People here talk a lot in Swahili, which I’m trying to pick up, but as this is the 4^th language I’ve been expected to learn in 4 weeks, I’ve not quite gotten the hang of it yet.

Then there was more praise until about noon and then church was over.  The girls were so beautiful praising the Lord, it was precious.

But my heart broke that they didn’t get any preaching.  Apparently, they used to go to church in town but the pastor preached a bunch on the power of the devil and very demonic things and wasn’t preaching from the Bible, so the orphanage as a whole stopped going.  They’re missing out on good, solid teaching of God’s Word.  They have busses to take the girls into town, but that gets expensive with gas money and they don’t even know if the churches in town preach from the Bible either.

Please pray for a solution to that!

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After eating beans for breakfast, Julia, Stephanie, and I weren’t exactly excited about another lunch of rice and beans with the girls, so we decided to get creative in the kitchen.

I’m still too terrified to get creative in the kitchen on my own because they have to light a gas burner with a match, and that scares me, so I always use the kitchen with other people.

We decided to cook pasta, sauté zucchini in olive oil garlic and spices, and throw in tomatoes at the end.  Sounded delicious.  The zucchini was bought fresh from the market, and was on the verge of going bad, but it still looked pretty good.  Much better than more fried beans.  I started chopping the zucchini and Julia started the flame and put the olive oil and garlic in the pan.   I got to the second piece of zucchini and it looked a bit funny when I cut into it. 

So I cut a second slice farther into the piece of Zucchini.

And almost died.

Instead of nice, white zucchini insides, there were inch long brown worms crawling through the zucchini making holes.

I screamed, dropped the zucchini, and almost vomited.  Eeeewwww.  I’ve never experienced worms in anything I was about to eat and I wasn’t too thrilled about it. 

Needless to say, Stephanie had to cut into the remaining zucchini and make sure it wasn’t infested before I would continue chopping it up.  I took over mango (dessert!) cutting for her and showed her a much simpler technique for cutting.  Fair trade off.

The remainder of our lunch went off without a hitch.  It was delicious, as previously expected, but I wasn’t really too hungry anymore. 

That afternoon we helped Chris and Kayci pack for America.   They were taking two of the oldest kids with them for a month-long furlough/fundraising adventure.  None of the kids have ever been to America before, so this was a BIG deal for them!  We got old suitcases out of the attic and were attacked by multiple lizards, lizard eggs, and even a bat before we got everything cleaned off.

Not your typical attic clean out.  Poor baby bat!

Julia and Stephanie have been here about a month, so they know when we want to eat with the girls and when we don’t.  Sunday nights are a must-eat!  The matrons make rice pilou (rice with carrots, garlic, ginger, and potatoes) and chicken (which tasted a bit like rubber, but the sauce it was sitting in was fabulous!)

We each sat with a different table full of girls and had a blast! 

After dinner it was time for the girls to show off their stellar dance moves!  There was more praise and worship music, in different groups of girls, accompanied by some dance moves.  The girls were so cute and most of them were already marvelous singers!  Then Julia and Stephanie got up to sing and dance a number.  The girls howled and squealed and erupted with laughter! 

They promised me next Sunday night I could join in on the fun.  I don’t think they realize how abysmal my singing skills are…

We stayed and watched the girls until about 9:30.  The singing continued longer but we were being eaten alive by mosquitoes.  Being exposed to packs of hungry mosquitoes breeds new reflexes to squat and squirm and swat at any kind of bug.

Which is harder to do with a precious 6 year old falling asleep on your lap.

We slept well that night thankful for good food and precious blessings.

The day I rode a tractor and peed under the stars.

Saturday

The rest of Friday rolled by uneventfully.  We made a delicious dinner of zucchini in olive oil, rosemary garlic mashed potatoes, fresh salad with grated cheese and carrots, beans, and some kind of meat.  It was delicious and I probably ate way too much, but that’s ok.  I’m beginning to learn neat things about how to cook from fresh foods, that it doesn’t take nearly as long as I thought it would, and it tastes 10 times better.

So maybe I will check “learn how to fend for myself in a developing country” off my “to do” list.

Saturday morning started with making 3 dozen pancakes without eggs which we, and the farm, were out of.  Since there’s not a 7/11 on the corner, we have no other option.  We decided to try to make “chipote” which is like a tortilla pancake that they make here, but our pancakes turned out like fluffy “American style” pancakes anyway.  I’d call it a success.

The girls taught class while I found children to play with.

I got pretty good at the game crazy 8’s.  Pili introduced herself to me and then introduced me to the game.  I thought she would win most, but it was fairly even.  Maybe she was going easy on me so I would keep playing.

Then we played a game of rocks that reminded me of jacks.  Your goal is to throw a rock into the air and then move all 12 rocks on the ground across a line and then catch the rock.  After moving all 12 rocks, you have to move them first in piles of 2, then piles of 3, then piles of 4, then 5 and so on.  Each time you move a pile you have to toss the rock into the air, move the pile, and then catch it.

The game required far more coordination then I had.

I read some stories to the little kids.  They were pretty interested until one of them gave me a Pokémon book to read and it had way too many words to even hold my attention.  The kids and I both gave up at that point.

Then it was time to go camping!

Only there was no car to take us.  We had been told the car would be there at noon.  We were ready.   We were packed.  We called the driver, who told us they would be here in an hour.  So we decided we would eat lunch while we waited.

We ate a quick lunch of leftover amazingness from the night before.

Only we had no microwave.  Bummer.

How do you heat leftovers without a microwave?

Apparently, by putting them back on the stove in a pot, stirring them until warm, and then serving them again.  Delicious.  Much better, but not quite as quick, than a microwave!

We waited until 1:30 before calling the driver again.  There was some mix-up where someone got lost and so the car hadn’t left yet. 

And they were 45 minutes away.  But they were coming asap.  Or the Tanzanian version of ASAP.

I decided it was time for a nap.  Well, actually, I decided it was time to read and then after reading for half an hour my body decided it was time for a nap.  Same thing.

We finally got on the road at 3.  That’s how time works here.  3 pm is almost the equivalent to noon.  Which is one of the hardest things of being here.

We traveled towards Mwanza (the airport I flew into) towards Buhongwa.  We tried to stop for ice cream and drinks at our favorite grocery store, U-Turn, but it was closed.  So we went to mini-mart instead. 

Julia ran in while the van of people waited on the street.  All I’ll say is that Julia and I have some stellar searching skills.  We found what we needed and also grabbed some cans of fanta, sprite, and coke.

The buildings here are all painted with sprite and coke logos, and the advertizing makes me want a soda, even though I normally would never want a soda in America.

Supposedly, the paint makes the buildings here (most made out of mud-bricks and not cement) last longer.  So Coke comes in and paints the houses, making them more sustainable, and for the price of paint gets a whole village along the street as advertisement.

And apparently it worked.

Either that, or we were just desperate for something cold, and since the ice cream looked like a squished, hot mess, soda was our best option.

And it was delicious.  If you’ve never tried Sprite made with SUGAR instead of high fructose corn syrup, you’re missing out on a very delicious part of life.  It’s like drinking coke out of a bottle or drinking Dublin Dr. Pepper.  Knowing that there’s sugar in it makes it taste that much better. 

I promise!

And I guarantee the people at Coke would tell you the same thing.

We reached the campground at Buhongwa (which is a farm owned partly by JBFC Children’s Home) and were immediately handed some hot Castle to drink because our driver was a bit upset that we were more than 3 hours late because we had to find Mini Mart grocery store since U-Turn was closed by the time we got there.

With a hot bottle of Castle in my hand (which I wouldn’t recommend, the cold sugar Sprite was much better!) Julia and I were offered a ride on the tractor!!

[Tractor!  Look how big the tires are!]

Um yes, I’ve lived in Texas all my life and I’ve NEVER ridden on a tractor, but I’ve always wanted to!!  I’ve been in a hay ride that was pulled by a tractor, but that isn’t the same.  So Julia and I rode the perimeter of the farm with our Castle on top the big wheels of the tractor.  WAY too cool!!

We got to see the land they had turned for sunflowers.  Not only are sunflowers beautiful (we’re using them in the wedding!) but they make a lot of great products like sunflower seeds and sunflower oil that are good to sell as well as good for the Children’s Home to use. 

Sustainable.  I love it!!

We made it back to the campsite and we sat around talking.  I got to talk to Chris (the 26 year old who started the Children’s home a few years ago and has turned it into a school and 2 farms to feed the kids too!) about his ideas for bringing healthcare to the kids.  I told him that I was super passionate about teaching and empowering others to be in charge of their own healthcare, and he thought that was a good idea.  There’s a lot that has to happen to make it a reality, but plans are in the works.  First, they need to finish a few other huge projects including a restaurant that the older girls work in to gain experience in “the real world.”  Nice.

The girls began to cook dinner while we sat around talking. 

Then it started to rain so we all huddled under a rain fly while the cooking continued. 

We talked late into the night and ate a (semi) delicious meal of rice, fried potatoes, chicken and green peppers, and penne pasta covered in tomato paste.

Bed time came too soon.  Since the tents were packed, Julia and I slept in the van.  Or, attempted to sleep in the van.  The tiny seats mixed with the fact that the door didn’t shut mixed with the mosquitoes, mixed with a lot of other stuff made it practically impossible to sleep.

My chitengue sprayed with bug spray made a decent mosquito net.  Yet another reason those things are so practical!  I just hope the bug spray I brought isn’t toxic to breathe in all night…

I got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and all the lights were out.  The bathroom had no roof, so it was open to the air.  Which means I got to pee under the stars.

Beautiful.

The day I woke up in Tanzania.

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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 2^nd 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.

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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!

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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.

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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.

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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!

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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!!

The day we rode two boats and never fell out but we jumped out of one and took a walk to Zimbabwe.

Monday

We started the day with legit coffee.  Not the instant stuff. 

We immediately fell in love and were thankful we didn’t realize how good coffee was before we drank instant junk.

[coffee!!]

(my shirt is off because i put on a tank top yesterday but missed the line of skin right next to the tank top so I have burn lines on either side.  So i kept my shirt off to fully sunscreen myself before we left today!]  

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Today we white water rafted.  Half the day.

We started out with an informational session describing what to do if you fell out.

When you fell out.

The entire time I’m trying to listen to this guy, but behind him there’s a picture of a raft that’s mid- capsize.  How am I supposed to pay attention to you if there’s 6 people on the verge of death behind your head?

He described a “short swimmer” as someone who falls out but is still holding onto the boat. 

If I could manage to hold on to the boat, I probably wouldn’t have fallen out.  Thanks though.

A “long swimmer” has let go of the boat and is at least a few feet away.  If the name describes how much swimming I have to do, I may be in trouble.  How long do I have to swim for before you pull me back in??

There are 3 ways to rescue a long swimmer.  There’s your paddle, which you’re supposed to hold on to, but honestly, if I can’t manage to hold onto the boat, there’s about no chance I can hold the paddle.  There’s also a throw rope.  Which they aim at your head.

The last thing I need after being thrown from a boat is a rope bag hitting me in the head. 

The third way is a kayaker that is really experienced that floats near the 2 boats to help direct you where to swim if you fall out.  Clearly, they are prepared for us to fall out.

We hike down into the gorge of Victoria Falls.  On either side of us is black volcanic rock that has fallen from the top.

Comforting.

We were also instructed not to swim to the side if we fell out.  They told us the sides are rocky, but later they said that that’s where the crocodiles hang out.

“But don’t worry, we fed them yesterday.”

I just hoped he was joking.

Then we put on life jackets and helmets.

         Wow, I was just starting to feel like all the safety measures were just a precaution.  Guess not.

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We climbed our way down straight up fallen rock into the canyon of the falls.  We meet our other boat-mates:  Helen and Mark from London.  Helen is a young dentist and on our trek down the rocks we talked about our lives and why we were here and she said she would love to do something like that. 

She got our email address so we could set her up with the clinic we worked with.

She also does research with endocarditis and I think she should continue that research because we could use some great outpatient options for treatment.  She will, but she plans on taking a sabbatical to do volunteer work, and they could surely use it in rural Zambia.

When we finally reach the bottom, we hop in our raft and practice paddling straight into the “Boiling pot.”  Which is a class 2 rapid.  Pretty tame.

We hit the second rapid,  which was a choice of a class 3, 4, or 5.  Our captain tells us if we do well on the class 3, he’ll let us pick what to do next time, knowing there are at least 3 more class 5 rapids coming up.

They don’t let you raft class 5s in America. Well, not that many class 5s.

The other captain gave their boat the choice. 

We went through first, and came out waterlogged, but just fine. 

The other boat capsized.

And lost all of the 7 rowers. 

It was chaos.  We paddled back to them and grabbed 3 girls and pulled them into our boat.  We met the 3 girls earlier, all studying abroad in Namibia.  And from America.  Very nice girls.

But one of them had on a vacant face, like we picked up her body from the rapids but her soul was still lost.  Frances described it as a “Bamby” look of complete shock and utter terror.

On only the 2^nd rapid.  This might be a long morning.

Thankfully, after returning the lost crew and oars to their boat, everyone was fine.  We continued down the rest of the rapids (except rapid #9, called commercial suicide) without incident.

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We were told rapid #9 is a “class 6 rapid.”  I’m pretty sure class 6 doesn’t exist in America, but the drop here was so large that they had to give it its own category.  They moved all our boats on shore with us, but allowed 2 “really experienced” kayakers to go down it. 

People here kayak off 10 feet of straight rock into the water.  They can probably handle anything.

And they did.  Although I think they were a bit whiter on the other side of the rapid.

I was mildly thrilled to get out of the boat because we trekked on the Zimbabwe side of the river.  I got to visit another country today without paying for a Visa!!

Frances was just worried about being thrown in prison here, because the prisons sound horrendous and we don’t think we would last 20 minutes in one.

I wanted to do something cool in Zimbabwe like eat lunch or skip rocks.  But all we did was carry our paddles.  I signed “I love Ryan” to Frances just before we got back in our raft because I wanted to at least say I did something cool in Zimbabwe.

So Ryan, I love you, and I said it in a completely different country, in a completely different language, so somehow it should mean more.  Or something.  I’m not sure I can love you any more than I already do, but I felt like I had to step it up a notch since I’ll be gone for so long.

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After 10 rapids, 3 of which were class 5, we jumped in for a quick swim.  Then we hit the mid point for lunch.  Frances and I were the only 2 doing the half day trip.  (we only had 2 days here and we heard the second half didn’t have any more category 5 rapids but had a lot of paddling, and we already worked our arms hard enough!)

At lunch Frances and I had to climb out of the gorge.  Which is much easier said than done.

I WISH we had pictures.  Of the whole day, but especially the climb.  Imagine a mountain that is at a 60 degree incline.  Then put a ladder on it and climb the ladder. 

But make the ladder out of sticks and make people bear crawl up it because otherwise they might fall down.

Then tell them they can’t have water until they reach the top.  We hiked it in 40 minutes, and we probably only made it so fast because we were desperate for water and lunch.

I downed a whole bottle of water and then an ice cold coke from a glass bottle.

Seriously, Coca Cola doesn’t have to advertise her, it’s so refreshing drinking a cold coke after climbing 40 minutes out of a canyon, that I would drink it any time.

………………………………………………………………..

We finally made it to lunch.  It’s a burger and coleslaw and a salad.  Fabulous.  I pray before every meal, and after I finished, as I had a scoop of lettuce heading towards my mouth, Frances asks:

 “Did you remember to thank God for helping us stay in the boat?”

No, but I suppose I can addend my prayer.

And I’m pretty sure God heard me.

[post-rafting]

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We watched our kyack trip during lunch.  It was fabulous, but I wasn’t so sure about paying someone $35 for a video I might only watch 2 or 3 times.

Because let’s be honest, watching us crash into water and get drenched is pretty funny.  Especially when you get to see our faces.  And watching the other boat capsize is hilarious.

But 10 rapids and 25 minutes later you’d just be bored and wishing you had been with me to raft the Zambezi river.

Then at least you could watch yourself disappear under a wall of white water only to reappear with a boat half full of water and a dazed look on your face.

So you can thank me for not buying a copy.

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We got dressed and ready for our sunset cruise.  We’ve heard great things about the cruise and we’re expecting a lot out of the sunset.  We think they’re fabulous and we feel like we should enjoy it even more from the water.

We did.

We also saw hippos and a whole herd of elephants!!

[elephants!]

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The sunset was beautiful (as always). I took about a thousand pictures, but I uploaded my favorite 2 just for you!!

[Sunset]

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I forgot to talk about how I saw Zebra and monkeys at the Falls. 

Zebras.  Just like I took a safari.  But without paying 1,000,000 K for it (about 200 USD)

[Zebras!]

I also forgot to talk about how they have a picture of their new president, Sata, everywhere.  It’s a law that every business has a picture of him up.  No joke, it’s everywhere.  People think it’s so funny that the law isn’t the same in America.  I can’t tell you the last time I saw Obama’s face in a restaurant or resort or shopping mall.  But I can tell you I last saw his face on a baby’s onesie at our clinic.

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Tomorrow we take a bus to the capital, Lusaka and stay the night.  We take a plane to Johannesburg on Wednesday morning.  I catch a flight in Johannesburg 7 hours later for the capital of Tanzania, Dar Es Salom, overnight.  Then I connect to Mwanza, Tanzania and arrive at 8 am Thursday morning, and travel with Julia to the orphanage and pray I don’t collapse right away.  I’ll have 2 full days of traveling.

I probably won’t post a blog until then. 

Please pray for safe travels and good rest in-between!  Thank you!!