As i stepped off the plane at Nairobi International, after 22 hours of flying i'm immediately met by the mellifluous combination of bougainvillea, humidity and oh God it's not like As i stepped off the plane at Nairobi International, after 22 hours of flying i'm immediately met by the mellifluous combination of bougainvillea, humidity and oh God it's not like that at all...
Thus far on my journey the only thing i've been met with is a huge sense of being underwhelmed and dust. lots of dust. 'Ohh it's so hard to prepare for Africa, it's so different from anything else you've ever know' is a phrase I heard a lot before I left. Well, once you get past the abundance of, you guessed it, black people, it's not that bad - or different.
Joberg, the one part of my journey over i was genuinely worried about, was fine. After going through customs (do you have anything to declare?' 'no' 'go through') i was met by a porter who rushed me off to the coach pick up area and my first glimpse of 'Africa', which looks, feels and smells a lot like Madrid (humidity and cigarette smoke for those playing at home). turns out i just missed the transfer to my hotel so very kindly the porter, who never told me his name but did tell me his Zulu tribes name, waited with me. we got to chatting.
what are you doing in Africa?
working in Tanzania
you an aid worker
yep, well kind of - working with children and orphans
you speak swahili, it's the language of Africa
no, not yet - i'll learn though
something something something mozongu
i know what mozungu means...
ok girlie, stay out of west africa and you'll be fine
such was the lesson i learned from South Africa - everyone, apparently, can speak swahili and South African's think Joberg is safer then Lagos (interesting statistic, approximately 50 murders a day in Joberg, compared to the 40 in Lagos - though i should point out, this doesn't include military insurgency.)
Nairobi, proper Africa, how exciting! again, i'm met with nothing so different from Spain or Greece, except more people speak English in Nairobi and, as you'll see i'm developing a pattern, there are more black people. my fears of being questioned at immigration about the purpose of my stay are alleviated when i find all they want is the US25 for the visa and again, customs is non-existent. I find the Aviation Security analyst in me silently screaming every time i pass through security checks. In joberg, i had two full water bottles in my carry on, as it's going through the detector i tell one of the seven 'security' guards that i've forgotten to take them out and will empty them immediately
ohh there's a five minute delay on images, we won't see that till you're past immigration
much laughter....
me thanking God i'm in Africa and what kind of terrorist would bother blowing anything up there?
so Nairobi, it's cool - well hot actually, 30 degrees at 9pm when i get off the flight - nothing to report, much like south east Asia - lots of people and noise and nothing much gets done.
Early next morning i jump on the Arusha 'express' which promises to get into Arusha in '4 - 8 hours'. i settle in the back seat on a predominately white filled bus, ready for the journey and wishing i had bought a water bottle. As we are about to leave a group of 60 something's get on and proceed to invade my tranquil back seat oasis. They are missionaries, and quite proud of it - having come over from Perth and intent on educating the 'growing' amount of Lutherans in Arusha. Nice enough people though and i'm glad i got a taste of missionaries before i got into town as Arusha (and this school) is teaming with them. urgh.
In my short time here i've noticed one thing in particular, Africa seems to be a country of comparisons. you've heard of German efficiency? well, in comparison to the Tanzanyan (that's ow the locals say it) government - it's all about Kenyan efficiency. the boarder crossing is an experience to be reckoned with. you jump out in Kenya, go through customs - ohhh you're Australian, when you come back through, you bring me kangaroo? - which takes about ten minutes and then run through the 100 meter gantlet between the two countries. here you've got big guys with pistols, just holding them - swinging them about, asking for your passport along with Masai women who are clearly malnourished trying to sell you trinkets. after politely ignoring the men with guns asking for my passport and thanking God i left my phone and wallet on the bus i give a few women some dollar bills (ohh i'm so benevolent!) in exchange for some rings and head for immigration in Tanzania. in'neresting. having been instructed by my school to not say you are travelling to St. Judes and with my last proper immigration memory from the UK - 'you have an ancestry visa, who is your ancestor' 'ahhhh my grandfather' 'which side' '......') I'm a little concerned i'll be quizzed on where i'm staying and my intent in the country. not quite. i hand over my passport and US50 and it gets taken away and i wait. and wait. 45 minutes later our bus is graciously given back our passports and when we all open them to look at the visa sticker, it's a stamp with some swahili writing down the side. ohhhhh this is what Nick meant when he said get used to the terms pilo pilo (i spelt that wrong) which means slowly slowly. the other thing you notice in Tanzania is, where there's a job one person can do effectively, there are six doing it ineffectively. I understand why, work is scarce and it's important to provide placement and income to as many people as possible - according to the World Banks 2008 report, Tanzania is the fifth poorest country in the world. combine that with hundreds of millions of dollars in Western debt and corruption through every tier of Government - it becomes east to ignore the ineffectiveness of employees.
so now i've arrived and having settled into my room - or should i say, palace? it's bigger then any room i've ever had, with an unsuit to boot - and realising i have manage to bring 8 t-shirts and no skirts or pants, no conditioner (but two types of shampoo) but a very useful leatherman - good idea Cam - i've made myself reasonably at home. I purchased a lion teddy thing in Joberg, which is roughly the size and softness of Punky Brewster and who i've named Axel (as in, welcome to the jungle, geddit??)
the school is bigger, more modern and a lot nicer then i anticipated - it's Sunday today so i'll be seeing all the kids for the first time tomorrow. hopefully there'll be one i can put on lay-by for later in the year. Speaking of lay-bying, i went out to dinner with four of the women last night and all except for Amy, an American girl, who owns a house in Hawaii, so i've decided she's going to be my new best friend, have got massive jungle fever, which is cool, the Masai's really are beautiful looking people, the weird part is they've all managed to find the least attractive ones and they fawn over these boys (i use that term literally, one of them, Thomas, i assumed was a student) in a really sycophantic way. Jess, who seems really normal and nice literally bear hugged young thomas through dinner and then i was asked if i had a boyfriend (everyone went silent for the answer) 'yes, definitely. we're engaged' came out faster then i anticipated. good news is, this is a new crowd, so no one has heard my 'Brad, he's a an actor' line before and, hilariously, everyone seemed to believe it.
at all...
Thus far on my journey the only thing i've been met with is a huge sense of being underwhelmed and dust. lots of dust. 'Ohh it's so hard to prepare for Africa, it's so different from anything else you've ever know' is a phrase I heard a lot before I left. Well, once you get past the abundance of, you guessed it, black people, it's not that bad - or different.
Joberg, the one part of my journey over i was genuinely worried about, was fine. After going through customs (do you have anything to declare?' 'no' 'go through') i was met by a porter who rushed me off to the coach pick up area and my first glimpse of 'Africa', which looks, feels and smells a lot like Madrid (humidity and cigarette smoke for those playing at home). turns out i just missed the transfer to my hotel so very kindly the porter, who never told me his name but did tell me his Zulu tribes name, waited with me. we got to chatting.
what are you doing in Africa?
working in Tanzania
you an aid worker
yep, well kind of - working with children and orphans
you speak swahili, it's the language of Africa
no, not yet - i'll learn though
something something something mozongu
i know what mozungu means...
ok girlie, stay out of west africa and you'll be fine
such was the lesson i learned from South Africa - everyone, apparently, can speak swahili and South African's think Joberg is safer then Lagos (interesting statistic, approximately 50 murders a day in Joberg, compared to the 40 in Lagos - though i should point out, this doesn't include military insurgency.)
Nairobi, proper Africa, how exciting! again, i'm met with nothing so different from Spain or Greece, except more people speak English in Nairobi and, as you'll see i'm developing a pattern, there are more black people. my fears of being questioned at immigration about the purpose of my stay are alleviated when i find all they want is the US25 for the visa and again, customs is non-existent. I find the Aviation Security analyst in me silently screaming every time i pass through security checks. In joberg, i had two full water bottles in my carry on, as it's going through the detector i tell one of the seven 'security' guards that i've forgotten to take them out and will empty them immediately
ohh there's a five minute delay on images, we won't see that till you're past immigration
much laughter....
me thanking God i'm in Africa and what kind of terrorist would bother blowing anything up there?
so Nairobi, it's cool - well hot actually, 30 degrees at 9pm when i get off the flight - nothing to report, much like south east Asia - lots of people and noise and nothing much gets done.
Early next morning i jump on the Arusha 'express' which promises to get into Arusha in '4 - 8 hours'. i settle in the back seat on a predominately white filled bus, ready for the journey and wishing i had bought a water bottle. As we are about to leave a group of 60 something's get on and proceed to invade my tranquil back seat oasis. They are missionaries, and quite proud of it - having come over from Perth and intent on educating the 'growing' amount of Lutherans in Arusha. Nice enough people though and i'm glad i got a taste of missionaries before i got into town as Arusha (and this school) is teaming with them. urgh.
In my short time here i've noticed one thing in particular, Africa seems to be a country of comparisons. you've heard of German efficiency? well, in comparison to the Tanzanyan (that's ow the locals say it) government - it's all about Kenyan efficiency. the boarder crossing is an experience to be reckoned with. you jump out in Kenya, go through customs - ohhh you're Australian, when you come back through, you bring me kangaroo? - which takes about ten minutes and then run through the 100 meter gantlet between the two countries. here you've got big guys with pistols, just holding them - swinging them about, asking for your passport along with Masai women who are clearly malnourished trying to sell you trinkets. after politely ignoring the men with guns asking for my passport and thanking God i left my phone and wallet on the bus i give a few women some dollar bills (ohh i'm so benevolent!) in exchange for some rings and head for immigration in Tanzania. in'neresting. having been instructed by my school to not say you are travelling to St. Judes and with my last proper immigration memory from the UK - 'you have an ancestry visa, who is your ancestor' 'ahhhh my grandfather' 'which side' '......') I'm a little concerned i'll be quizzed on where i'm staying and my intent in the country. not quite. i hand over my passport and US50 and it gets taken away and i wait. and wait. 45 minutes later our bus is graciously given back our passports and when we all open them to look at the visa sticker, it's a stamp with some swahili writing down the side. ohhhhh this is what Nick meant when he said get used to the terms pilo pilo (i spelt that wrong) which means slowly slowly. the other thing you notice in Tanzania is, where there's a job one person can do effectively, there are six doing it ineffectively. I understand why, work is scarce and it's important to provide placement and income to as many people as possible - according to the World Banks 2008 report, Tanzania is the fifth poorest country in the world. combine that with hundreds of millions of dollars in Western debt and corruption through every tier of Government - it becomes east to ignore the ineffectiveness of employees.
so now i've arrived and having settled into my room - or should i say, palace? it's bigger then any room i've ever had, with an unsuit to boot - and realising i have manage to bring 8 t-shirts and no skirts or pants, no conditioner (but two types of shampoo) but a very useful leatherman - good idea Cam - i've made myself reasonably at home. I purchased a lion teddy thing in Joberg, which is roughly the size and softness of Punky Brewster and who i've named Axel (as in, welcome to the jungle, geddit??)
the school is bigger, more modern and a lot nicer then i anticipated - it's Sunday today so i'll be seeing all the kids for the first time tomorrow. hopefully there'll be one i can put on lay-by for later in the year. Speaking of lay-bying, i went out to dinner with four of the women last night and all except for Amy, an American girl, who owns a house in Hawaii, so i've decided she's going to be my new best friend, have got massive jungle fever, which is cool, the Masai's really are beautiful looking people, the weird part is they've all managed to find the least attractive ones and they fawn over these boys (i use that term literally, one of them, Thomas, i assumed was a student) in a really sycophantic way. Jess, who seems really normal and nice literally bear hugged young thomas through dinner and then i was asked if i had a boyfriend (everyone went silent for the answer) 'yes, definitely. we're engaged' came out faster then i anticipated. good news is, this is a new crowd, so no one has heard my 'Brad, he's a an actor' line before and, hilariously, everyone seemed to believe it.
