Tanzania Vacation Part I – Best / Most Ridiculous Travel Moments

Travelling often required "flexibility" and dealing with unforseen circumstances...hence Mel in a trunk

Below was our holiday transportation from December 18^th – January 3^rd.

1. Muhamed Bus: Lilongwe – Dar Es Salaam, 33 hours

2. Dar Express Bus: Dar Es Salaam – Moshi, 12 hours

3. Nomadic Adventures: Moshi – Kilimanjaro, 1 hour

4. Nomadic Adventures: Kilimanjaro – Moshi, 1 hour

5. Kilimanjaro Express Bus: Moshi – Dar Es Salaam, 9 hours

6. Private Plane Service: Dar Es Salaam – Zanzibar, 20 minutes

7. Taxi: Stone Town, Zanzibar – Nungwi, Zanzibar, 90 minutes

8. Taxi: Nungwi – Stone Town, 90 minutes

9. Springlands Ferry: Stone Town – Dar Es Salaam, 2 hours

10. New Force Bus: Dar Es Salaam – Kiyela, 13 hours

11. Taxi: Kiyela – Malawi/Tanzania Border, 30 minutes

12. Random Hired Car: Border – Kuronga, 1 hour

13. Minibus: Kuronga – Mzuzu, 5  ½ hours

14. Bus: Mzuzu – Lilongwe, 6 hours

As you can see from the itinerary above, I had quite an active vacation in terms of transportation, but I suppose that’s what happens when you don’t plan anything and just keep moving from place to place, learning as you go.  It was frustrating, exciting, eye-opening, fun, uncomfortable, and almost always longer than it should have been.  In the end though I’m glad I went through it.  Below are some of the highlights from the various modes of transport.

Hasmin and I approaching the plane, but will we be let on?

1.       Booking a plane from Dar to Zanzibar – So we missed the last ferry to Zanzibar by 5 minutes.  Desperate to get to our next destination we bought plane tickets on a private plane from a legitimately insane Tanzanian travel agent named Ali who demanded our money upfront, drove us in the most fast and wreckless way possible to the airport, and spent most of the ride screaming at a combination of me and other motorists.  Bonus points: The car ran out of gas and died on a dirt road 10 minutes from the airport, but somehow it started again and we made it.

Success! Zanzibar here we come!

2.       We actually get to board the plane- While sitting in the airport, 70% sure we’d all just been completely robbed by a crazy person it was a giant relief when an airport official (aka guy in orange vest) ushered us out of the waiting area to the tarmac heading toward a small 16-seater propeller plane.  Safety be damned, it was just good to know we hadn’t been robbed.  Bonus Points:  I was laughed at when I asked if I needed a boarding pass.

3.       Preachers on Buses- The first 30 minutes of our bus trip from Lilongwe to Dar was filled with passionate gospel from a preacher reciting the bible word for word (in Chichewa of course).  Bonus points: he decided that the aisle directly next to my seat was the perfect podium and I was rewarded with an almost steady stream of spit from his fiery pulpit.

Our Chariot for the 33 hour trip from Lilongwe to Dar, complete with free preacher service

4.       Chickens on Buses- As anyone that’s travelled on public transportation in Africa knows, no trip is complete without live poultry which we had on our return trip from Dar to the Tanzanian border town of Kieyla.

5.       Almost getting left behind at rest stop- Because we don’t speak Swahili, when the bus driver said 10 minute break, we didn’t understand him.  As Mel and Amanda were in line to buy food the bus pulled away with Hasmin and me literally running after it.  Bonus points – Hasmin jumped onto the bus while it was still moving and then just as I caught up it stopped while the driver yelled at us and kept honking until a sprinting Mel and Amanda also caught up.

6.       Air Time in the Back of the Bus- We were so grateful for getting the last 3 seats on the bus from Moshi  to Dar that we didn’t think about the implication of being in the last row…without seatbelts.  As soon as we started hitting the bumps we realized why.  At one point while I found myself flung 3 feet into the air above my seat with my arms up to keep from crashing into the ceiling I thought maybe I shouldn’t have eaten right before boarding.  Falling luggage and pieces from the roof of the bus were a nice touch.  Bonus points:  The little Tanzanian girl that came and hung out with us in the back of the bus was first adorable and then violent as both Mel and I got slapped in the face multiple times to the child’s clear delight.

Sure she looks adorable, but she slaps like a teenager

7.       Being Blatantly Lied to and Taken Advantage of- While searching for a way back to Lilongwe we were told we could pay 40,000 TZ ($30USD) for a bus to the border and then we would immediately board another bus to get to Lilongwe.  We arrived at 6am to find that we’d been transferred to another, cheaper bus without getting any of our money back.  Then we did not make it to the border until after it had closed with absolutely no evidence of a transfer bus.  As we frantically called Frank, the guy that had lied to us, he was nowhere to be found.

8.       Buying Fuel on the Black Market- Nothing says you’re back in Malawi like pulling over to the side of the road and having two men run up to your car with a funnel made from a 2 liter plastic bottle and a gerry can of diluted petrol.  When we got into the car we hired for 2,000 MK ($10USD) to take us from the border to the Malawian town of Kuronga I quickly saw the tank was on empty and asked how we’d make the 1 hour journey with no gas.  The driver just turned around and said “in 1 km black market.”

Typical scene outside bus at every stop, vendors selling all sort of things

9.       Window Shopping-If you’re ever hungry on long African bus travel trips you don’t need to leave your seat.  At each stop there are eager vendors banging on your window pushing their products in your direction.

10.   Being the Center of Attention- Every time a group of 4 white people exits a bus in Africa you can rest assured they’re going to get immediate attention from anyone trying to sell anything.  Tactics include yelling, pulling, hand holding, poking, and lots of grabbing.

11.   Flooding in Dar- Our bus from Dar to Moshi was delayed over 2 hours due to intense rains and flooding in Dar.  Since we waited almost the entire time outside in the downpour us and all our luggage was soaked by the time we boarded.

12.   Seeing Water Buffalo, Zebras, Giraffes, and Waterbucks – The bus ride from Dar to the border town of Kiyela brought us through open savannahs spotted with trees and surprisingly abundant and visible wildlife that was a great and gratifying moment in traveling by bus.

Holiday VCT Tournaments

GRS Coach Linda Mvula (in yellow shirt) with her winning team

Our interventions for the first term of the school year ended in the first week of December and schools let out for holiday break on December 9^th so it was time for Grassroot Soccer Malawi to hold our school’s out celebratory Voluntary Counseling and Testing soccer tournaments.  We held two, a day apart in different areas of Lilongwe.  The first, in Area 25 in northern Lilongwe, was a great example of issues faced every day here, but how our team just moves past obstacles to get the job done.

Action rages on at the Area 25 Tournament

Poster with Coach's Responsibilities for the day

The first obstacle was simple – all of the printers at the clinic were down and we couldn’t print the roster of roles for coaches at the tournament or the schedule for the day’s events.  We just old-school pen and papered it and decided to write the roles on large posters at the event which ended up working better anyway and is now something we’ll do every tournament.  Then, on the way to the event a giant rainstorm came out of nowhere.  Godfrey was on his motorbike followed by Cossam and myself in the car and we had to pull over because it was raining too hard to see anything.  We got to the venue 20 minutes late, but the grounds were too wet to start setting up and the DJ hadn’t shown up because they needed special transport because of the rain.  The clouds dissipated though and we were left with sunshine and our coaches worked on overdrive to get the tournament ready by the start time of noon.  Then a local chief came up to me and told me there had been miscommunication as they all thought the event started at 8am and had shown up here with many people from the area only to find no one there.  I apologized for whatever caused the mixup but assured him there’d be an event with games and music beginning at 1pm.  As things tend to do, thanks to the great work of the GRS team, everything sort of fell into place.  The quality of soccer was fantastic, the coaches were energetic, and the two site coordinators for the area, Mary and Gloria, were awesome in running the tournament.  After a slow start 4 local village chiefs showed up to give their support, we tested over 100 community members, The winning team from Dzenza school played liked a barefooted Barcelona on the dirt pitch.  It was a fantastic tournament.

Everyone gathered around to watch the award ceremony 

Kawale Test 4 ur team banner

Two days later we were at it again, this time in Kawale, a heavily populated area just south of our office at the Baylor clinic.  This time the DJ was already there when we arrived playing music, and the fields were quickly set up and the testing and counseling rooms all made available.  Unfortunately, less than an hour in the DJ lost power and they had forgotten their generator.  Having loud/live music is essential at these tournaments to get people from in the community to come and enjoy the atmosphere.  Without the music and sound system we can’t announce to the community the testing services available and the key HIV/AIDS sensitization messages that are so important.  Our own MC used our megaphones to try and make up for it and they were passionate in their announcing, adding to the atmosphere.  Luckily the DJ had gotten their generator in time for the final and we managed to get many community members to come watch, get counseled, and test in the last half hour as we tested over 70 community members.  It was an exhausting but rewarding last couple of days, The next day I’d be leaving by bus for my holiday trip to Tanzania.

The Grassroot Soccer Party

GRS End of the Year Party Rages on in our living room

This past week we had the official GRS 2011 End of the Year Party.  We’d been semi-planning it for months, but of course 98% of the preparation work was done in the few days/hours before the party. We brought in the Lilongwe-famous Mrs. Encatewere (still not sure if I’m spelling that correctly) for catering of traditional Malawian meal of mpunga (rice), nyemba (beans), nsima (nsima), nkhuku (chicken), n’gombe (beef), ndi salad (and salad).  As hosts, we also provided some additional appetizers, mainly chips and dip for which Mel, Meagan, and Lizzy put together some awesome guacamole and salsa.  This was also an alcohol-free party (no I’m not just saying that because my mom and dad read this blog) so we had a bunch of cases of cola and flavored soft drinks (not naming brands for a reason).

The Catering Service

GRS Coaches from Left to Right: Steve C, Cathy, Linda M, William

We spent the day before the party coming up with fun activities to compliment the raging dance party that would also occur.  We came up with “Most Likely To…” where we had coaches vote on who they thought was most likely to do things like win a dance competition, make you laugh, or own blue movies (XXX).  We also had a soccer juggling competition, push-up competition, and my favorite a Kilo competition.  What is a Kilo you surely ask?  A Kilo is what we in Grassroot Soccer use to give praise to people.  The standard GRS Skillz Kilo starts with someone yelling can we give them a KIIII-LO! And then everyone claps 3 times in a row twice: CLAP!CLAP!CLAP!   CLAP!CLAP!CLAP! with finally everyone stretching out their arms and yelling WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!  The great thing about Kilos are you can be very creative, and inventing new kilos is something we do all the time.

Trying to Bring the Skills in the Juggling Competition

Push Up Competition Finals From L to R: Cossam, Godfrey, Me, Stanley

Winners of the Kilo Competition performing the new Freeze KIIII-LO!

The activities and parties were a great success.  We were able to get all the coaches transport to our house by around 1pm with the food ready to be served.  The power, thanks be to God, was on the entire time, and Godfrey set up his awesome speakers and blasted a variety of hot dance beats for everyone to get down to.  The final part of the party was dedicated to Meagan, for whom it was her last Malawi GRS function, since she’s moving back to the U.S.  We had a couple speeches and lots of hugs.

Meagan's Good Bye Hugs

GRS Malawi Model Henry "Bulawayu" Ching'ombe modeling his new GRS Shirt

Following the party, and the cleanup, we realized that we still had a TON of nsima left.  This seemed the ideal time for me to take “The Nsima Challenge.”  Lizzy, new roommate and manager, had bet me 2,000MK ($10USD), that I could not finish 5 patties of Nsima.  Now here I was and she raised it to 6.  After the first 2 patties I was already full, and the fact that I was dipping each piece in Salsa basically meant that I’d had the equivalent of 6 tomatoes by the time I got to my fourth patty and really started feeling it.  At one point, nearly delirious with stomach pain, I asked Lizzy what’d she’d give me if I committed Nsimacide and ate 7.  She said, “GRS does not pay me enough to give you more than 2,000 kwacha to eat 6 balls of nsima.”  To which I replied, “And GRS does not pay me enough to NOT eat 6 balls of nsima for 2,000 kwacha.”  I am an unpaid volunteer.  With an hour time limit to complete the feat, I finished with 3 minutes to spare and then spent a half hour trying not to vomit.

The day was not all good though.  One of our coaches, Shadreck, whom I play soccer with on Sundays with the team Kuche Kuche, had to leave the party early to go to the hospital to be with his brother who was suffering from TB.  That night I received word from Shadreck that his brother had passed away.

One thing I’ve learned in my time here is that circumstances change rapidly in Malawi and over the course of a day you’re constantly switching back and forth from celebrating victories to ruing hardships and setbacks.  The only certainty is that there are no certainties, and the unpredictable will almost always happen.

Victoria Falls III: Death Defied One Last Time

The Falls from the entrance to the park

The next morning we were all sore from the kayaking but there was no time to rest.  We checked out of Jollyboys and rushed to the falls and purchased our entrance fee to be led to “The Devil’s Pool.”  The excursion included hiking across the dry riverbed atop the falls as the water had not yet risen to its full potential and we had to avoid streams and currents shooting straight down into the falls.

Walking along the dried riverbed on the march to Devil's Pool

Crossing the Stream, 20 feet to the left is the canyon, you do not want to fall in the stream

People stepped less than a foot away from the edge taking pictures and I got sick just thinking about the slips and the consequences.  Then we had to swim across a 50 foot section of the river to get to the pool.  Now we were at the pool and were instructed to jump in from the rocks and swim immediately to the left to avoid getting caught in the strong currents rushing directly over the edge.  I went first taking a cannon ball into the water and was fine and then swam on to the edge looking up over and below at the enormous drops and the rainbows from the clouds of water rising up that give it its native name of Mosi oi tunya or “The smoke that thunders.”

From L to R: Helena, Meagan, Brian, Salim, Mel, Me (it's no accident I'm furthest from the edge)

Jumping into Devil's Pool, if you jump too far well...you see the edge

The Edge of Victoria Falls: What you can't see are two guys holding my legs so that I don't fall off

Finally, after we’d completed the Devil’s Pool it was time for the grand finale of bungee jumping.  Our guide led us there and Salim, Helena, Mel, and I strapped up and one-by-one faced down the sickening heights of the falls from the bridge connecting Zambia to Zimbabwe.  The bungee workers brought us first to the platform then strapped our legs together and wrapped them with thick towels.

Trying not to vomit.  Last words to the camera: "I love you mom and dad."

Jumping off the ledge.  I went all out.

I was instructed to hop to the edge with my toes hanging off.  Once there I lifted my arms up and sideways and on the count of “5,4,3,2,1, bungee!” leapt from the platform into an insane and incredible feeling of weightlessness and acceleration while screaming “oh my god!!!”  My body flying towards the ground was then yanked up and I yo-yo’ed a bunch of times loving the rush and the feelings and the views.  Then I was slowly pulled up and I made my way back to the bridge on the Zimbabwe side.  I was in a daze.  I’d never faced so many fears in a weekend.

Follow the rope down to the end to find me

Me, falling, screaming, probably crying

Victoria Falls II: “Absolute Caw-nage” (Carnage)

Climbing down the mountain to the river carrying our gear

By 8:30am we were all in the lobby meeting our guides for inflatable white-water kayaking.  Before we even reached the river we were instructed to carry our oars, life vests, helmets, and shin floats down a treacherous mountainside trail.  Once we reached the bottom the porters inflated the kayaks while Steve gave brief instructions on kayaking 101 and avoiding “serious caw-nage.”  Our excursion spanned class 3 and 4 rapids taking us from rapid 10-25 on the Zambezi, downstream of the falls.  We’d all been given/bought nyami nyami necklaces to bring us safety and luck on our voyage.  Nyami nyami which looks like a dragon literally translates to “meat meat” and is supposed to bring safety to those travelling the Zambezi.

Steve showing us how to kayak and avoid "caw-nage"

We hit the water and I felt my body growing sore from the beginning, using muscles I’d probably never used before.  I made it through the first rapid unscathed but this was only a warm-up.  Rapid 12, named The 3 Ugly Sisters and Their Mother, is a series of 4 violent rapids in quick succession.  I immediately got my first taste of a flip as the first of the sisters knocked me off the boat and I struggled in the current to hold onto my oar as the water sucked me down and flung me on towards the second sister, luckily I was able to grab onto the safety boat operated by Steve before I hit.  From there I watched the rest of my friends knocked from their boats along the sisters.  As we reached the mother I held on with all my force as a giant wall of water knocked right into us.  We were all shaken after this and we regrouped in a jetty before moving on.  At the next rapid I was again knocked from my boat and began getting frustrated.  In between the rapids I was encouraged by the breathtaking grandness of canyon views and stayed determined to ride through.  Amazingly I started to grow more and more competent, making it through rapid 14 even after one wave had knocked me into the center of the mess and another wave hit me from the side spinning me backwards into the big rush, but I managed to hold onto my boat and oar and back into it straight, riding right through the rush.

The first rapid, a small taste of what was to come

A moment of calm enjoying the gorgeous views

I was getting the hang of it, but then there we all were sitting at the jetty before rapid 18, our biggest test of the day.  The rapid is named “Oblivion” so it was no wonder we were all hesitant to follow Steve into what he promised would be “absolute caw-nage.”  Our instructions were to hit the first wave straight on and then “paddle like all hell left.”  I made it through the first wave and set myself up well for the second which I rode.  Then facing the real “oblivion,” a monstrous 15 foot swell coming down on me I tried to right myself directly into it like instructed, but got side-swiped and went into the ferocious rapid spun sideways.  As the water crashed into me I quickly tried to grab onto my boat to keep from getting sucked under but the force ripped my hands from the kayak and I was pulled down beneath the surface.  The first moments I was calm and just held my breath confident the various means of flotation adorning my body would soon pull me to the surface.  Then that didn’t happen, and I was still moving fast underwater and it was all dark and I couldn’t tell if I was being pulled further downward or just along the current and then I started stretching my arms out just trying to feel anything but water and I started worrying more as my breath ran out and I was still being pulled along forcefully beneath the surface.  Just as real panic set in my fingers felt air and with my arms I pulled my head to the surface for a brief gasp before another wave hit me and sent me back under, but I was quickly out again and searching for my boat.  Instead I found Helena’s and she gave me a lift until my raft returned.  “Oblivion” was over and that was the high climax.  There were more rapids and even another tumble from my boat, but after surviving Rapid 18, nothing phased me.  Everyone that went through it agreed.  We were stronger, braver, more resilient now.

Post "Oblivion" I lost my boat and got a ride with Helena

Victoria Falls I: Cruising on Roads & Rivers

Sunset Cruise, from L to R: Meagan, Mel, Me, Brian, Salim, Helena

It was early and I hadn’t slept much after a farewell night at The Shack, the expat hotspot of Wednesday nights.  I managed to put together enough early morning sense to gather my things for the trip to Victoria Falls in the neighboring country to the West, Zambia.  Mel, Meagan, and I packed our things into the rented car and went to pick up Helena, Salim, and Brian (all visiting medical students).  Helena and Salim, being from Sweden, of course had never driven before while Brian didn’t know how to drive manual and Meagan had gotten her license taken away by police weeks ago.  That left Mel and I as the only eligible drivers for what was an 18 hour drive each way that would include a layover in Lusaka.

Hour 9 of 12 hour drive to Lusaka

Mel started the driving and rushed us out of Malawi to the border where we paid the $50 Zambian visitor’s visa and the subsequent car entrance fee.  After being thoroughly (and awkwardly) searched by a surprisingly intimidating and unnerving Zambian border patrol guard the gate was openned and on we drove into the fuel-filled lands of Zambia.  The sun shined bright overhead and bicyclers began appearing on the shoulder instead of the one lane road.  We immediately stopped in the city of Chipata, only 30km from the border to fill up on diesel, take out Zambian Kwacha, and have a quick lunch.  After a long stretch looking for a good place to use the bathroom on the side of the road we switched drivers and I took the wheel.  We moved from long, straight stretches on into the mountains where I’d hold my breath and my foot to the pedal every time we passed a car.  Knowing the sun was now on the downward trajectory and we still had plenty of km before reaching our Lusaka stopping point I began pushing 140 km/hr until a particularly harrowing incident in which while trying to pass a truck I had to slam on the breaks to avoid going head on into a bicycler that for some reason or other was riding in the lane instead of on the shoulder.  After this, it was just squinting into the setting sun shining right into my eyes.

Driving with the sun in my eyes was a challenge to say the least

Finally, we reached Lusaka just after nightfall and fellow Grassroot Soccer interns came and showed us the way to a great Indian restaurant with all-you-can-eat options.  Then we went to Smugglers, a local bar where I had a drink and played pool against a couple of Zambian regulars.  After lots of trash talking, joking, and betting I decidedly lost and we all returned to the intern house for a night’s rest.

Breathtaking

The next morning began at 5am and by 6am we were back on the road, a mere 6 hours from Livingstone, the city of Victory Falls.  Outside of a couple roadblocks and police stops we arrived in the afternoon without incident.  We checked in and promptly signed up for the sunset cruise to give ourselves a low key entrance to the wonder of Vic Falls.  I expected the cruise to just be an open bar along the Zambezi (the river that Victoria Falls is a part of), but we got much more as we saw groups of Hippos, a small herd of elephants, and crocodiles all in addition to a beautiful sunset.  We got back from the cruise thoroughly exhausted and went straight to bed at Jollyboys, the hostel we were staying in (highly recommended).

Annual Sensitization Event

Star musician Maskal performing at the event

Grassroot Soccer is unique in Malawi because unlike other GRS sites in Africa we operate as an outreach program from the Baylor Clinic that’s located here in Lilongwe.  We have partnered with Baylor to provide HIV education, sensitization, and testing for the youth of Lilongwe and our office is actually located in the Baylor building, one of the nicest and best-maintained sites in Lilongwe.

Checking the time while setting up the field for the tournament

Recently Baylor organized a large HIV sensitization event at the Mlodza Secondary School which is also one of the schools that Grassroot Soccer works with.  The event brought together Baylor's two biggest HIV outreach programs, Grassroot Soccer and Tingathe.  The event was ambitious and massive, putting together all of the resources we could find.  The early part of the day saw us run one of our VCT (voluntary counseling and testing) tournaments while the rest of the day was centered around the stage where some of Malawi’s most famous musicians (Maskal, Sally, Dan Lu) performed for thousands of people that attended.

The Winning Team of the GRS VCT Tournament

To raise awareness for the event there were posters and fliers made, radio commercials aired, and cars with megaphones and giant speakers drove through the communities telling them to come.  After the work for our VCT tournament I spent time talking to many of the outreach workers there and hearing their stories.

HIV Pre-Test Counseling  (Post-Test is done one-on-one)

Later, one of the counselors was offering HIV counseling in chezungu (English) and so Meagan, Mel, and I took the chance to go through the services that our coaches offer and we encourage participants to use.  We sat as the counselor took us through a great HIV/AIDS overview on the disease, stigma, and possible reactions to an HIV positive test result.  After that it was testing time and she pricked each of our fingers.  I’ve tested for HIV a couple of times before but this was by far the most intense of those tests because of the counseling.  My experience of testing in the US has been walk into a clinic, go to a room, get pricked, and then later someone will just say “negative” and I’ll go.  In Malawi though there is a requirement for in depth counseling both pre and post-HIV test.  Twenty minutes later I returned for my results and before she would give them to me the counselor went through a variety of scenarios that served to completely scare the hell out of me, but in a way that made me take the test and results much more seriously.  We talked through who I would tell my results to, what I would do if I was positive, how I would need to change if I was positive, etc.  Finally she put me out of my misery and delivered my result: HIV negative.

The Thousands in Attendance along with some of the "Security" in red

Now feeling relieved and knowing my status my next role for the day was as “security guard.”  As good as the intentions were for the event there are always people that ignore the message, and standing between the back of the stage and a growing mob I felt like I met all of them as swarms of drunk teenagers kept trying to break through our human barrier onto the stage.  Some were diplomatic and said things like “do you hate black people?” while others went for material possessions and just said “where is my t-shirt” or my personal favorite “give me my money.”  Unfortunately, some people pushed too far and I saw at least 5 fights.  Once the police officer came to the back brandishing a club the crowd ran and he’d run after them generally catching a couple people before returning to the stage.  That process happened a couple times before the end was finally reached.  

A view of the event with the stage on the left

At the end of it over 700 people were tested, with thousands in attendance to hear the musicians deliver messages on HIV, prenatal care for HIV positive mothers, and the need for male support.  It was a thoroughly exhausted, exhilarating, and education day.