First day with down time; halfway through trip

Mon, Mar 7th, Noon, Mori village, base of Mt Kilimanjaro

Wow - it's day 8 already and it has been a whirlwind.  Life couldn't be more different I think and nothing is  really as I expected.  The people we've met have been gracious and friendly and excited to meet us; and Aunt Nancy has made us feel at home.

As I type, I'm in a small house on the hillside under the peaks of Mount Kilimanjaro, which, thanks to Aunt Nancy's persistence, got electricity only a year ago.  It's surreal.  It took a 9-hour busride yesterday to get here from Dar.



Jeff and Mary outside Nancy's apartment;
her home is the top level; Mr. Kimaro owns the whole building;
he and his family live in the bottom portion.



Our first day was last Monday, the 28th of Feb.  Aunt Nancy and nephew Jonathan met us at the airport at 5:30am after 26 hours of traveling and whisked us away into the INSANE traffic of Dar es Salaam.  I tell you I do not understand the traffic rules even after a week.  After a wash and some breakfast we were off to the city to run errands, including depositing our donation to Tuamoyo in the bank ($1500!!!).

Errands are no small thing to accomplish here.  Aunt Nancy lives in an area of Dar called Savei.  It takes over an hour to get into down town riding buses, small ones called dala dalas.  Everyone crams in for the hot ride, and you literally have to push and shove your way on or you will get left behind.  Aunt Nancy and 4-year-old granddaughter Nancy Marie managed to get on the first dala dala, and Jeff and I were still outside.  My heart was pounding, and I was thinking, "My God, what if we don't get on?  We'll be left here without her and not know what to do!!!"  But I pushed, and Jeff stayed right with me, and we managed to get on.

After a couple bus rides, we were downtown and, after a break for some Fanta, managed to walk to the bank to deposit the money.  Downtown Dar is BIG and that day the heat was in low 90's.  Jeff and I were EXHAUSTED.

While downtown, Aunt Nancy also had to meet with the Mama Mkubwa in charge, Fatuma.  Remember, the Mama Mkubwas are the elder aunts who are the wheels that turn Tuamoyo.  They each are responsible for a small neighborhood in Tuamoyo (a large district of Dar) and about 10 kids I suppose.  Fatuma is the lead aunt, and she was having trouble gathering all the funds for the meal they were going to provide the following Sat, Mar 5th.  She needed a signature from Aunt Nancy (who is a board member) and a notary stamp for something or other.  Then, we were able to meet "The Chair" of Tuamoyo who was able to say where Fatuma would get the money for the meal (everything seems to be accounted for to the penny).  The Chair was a very nice man, who seemed like the sort we'd love to talk to more, but by the time we met him, I was about to pass out.

Managed to get back on dala dalas and got home to nap.  Even though it's so hot, we absolutely crashed.  Woke up for yummy dinner, made by Aunt Nancy's housekeeper, Mama Bahati (who has been with her since one can remember), and crashed again for the night.

The next day was much like the first - dala dalas, errands, heat, meeting many people, getting stuff done.  We managed to make last minute reservations on to a 2-night safari in Ruaha national park, which took up the next couple days.  The safari is for another post - I'll say now it was incredible.

Made it home from the safari by taking a wild bajaji ride from the airport through the city in the rain.  I wish I had taken video but my camera battery had just died.  You wouldn't believe it unless you saw it.  Bajajis are these little cars for carrying people - the driver sits in front in the middle, and there's a seat in back wide enough for 3 people to squish in (which is always me, Jeff, Aunt Nancy, with Nancy Marie on Nancy's lap).  The sides are open and there are no seatbelts.  These little bajajis weave in and out of the cars and trucks and buses like it's nothing, and at times, even get up on the "sidewalks" where people are walking.  They just honk their horns to let people know they're coming and it's up to the people to get out of the way; which they do, but they saunter out of the way, they don't run or walk briskly.  My heart is always skipping a beat thinking we'll hit a pedestrian, or that a truck will squish us on the road.

IN FACT, we did get run into a ditch by a truck on our SECOND day.  I couldn't believe it.  I wanted to take a picture, but felt bad for our bajaji driver so I didn't.  He got out of the vehicle and was crouched on the ground.  At first Jeff and I thought he was low to the ground to inspect any damage, but it turns out he had polio and his legs didn't work.  He was picking up his feet with his hands.  The bajajis are driven like motorcyles with the throttle and brakes in the handle bars, which is why he could drive it.  Anywho, we were able to get the bajaji out of the ditch and continue on our way unharmed and unsquished by the big truck, who was a jerk.


Nancy's niece, Cisi, who presented me a beautiful Khanga
 made from zebra print; and her two sons, Tino and Lute.
Nancy Marie is Nancy's granddaughter.



The heat is at times oppressive, but for the most part bearable.  There are problems with the electricity in Aunt Nancy's apartment to the despair of her and Mama B and Mama B's son, Bahati, who lives with them at times.  It appears unfixable until the electric company can come in and do something.  Anyways, the only way it really affects me and Jeff is that the fan at night doesn't work.  It feels like the heat is literally pushing down on us and we can't breathe.  The other night we moved out into the living room where it was cooler and were able to get some Z's.



Aunt Nancy and Mary eating Italian ice cream in an area called the Slipway