flashback

it's a rainy sunday in mbeya, tanzania.. january 28. my original flight is leaving from nairobi tomorrow night. i have extended my trip and will now be flying home april 11 from jo'burg, south africa. i have many mixed feelings on this decision; but, it ultimately came down to my intuition.. wanting to experience more of Africa, travel on my own and face those challenges and rewards. so here i am.. looking forward to what lies ahead.. and looking back and missing many things. i had an awesome send off sushi dinner with close friends before I left Boulder in November. I have looked at these pictures many times to comfort myself and feel the love of my friends. Now I'm finally getting around to posting some photos. I plan on leaving Mbeya this Wednesday, on the train to Zambia.. where I will end up in Lusaka.. and then Victoria Falls.. and eventually make my way down to Capetown.. and then travel through Namibia before leaving the continent. I miss many things of western life.. but i don't care so much about the material things.. like food, hot showers. I have come to love ugali and beans and the fresh food market.. local tea.. anything I could need is here, I just need to look for it a bit harder. What I do miss.. people...

my wonderful friend Susan.. i miss your wisdom and your peace.. and of course your wonderful hugs..



ok, i guess i miss sushi too, and check out this awesome fried icecream. although i know there will be many opportunities to eat as much of it as i want when i return to the states. meanwhile, i've had liver and stomach in tanzania.. ok, so i didn't actually eat the stomach.. but it was in my mouth.. and i chewed.. and that was enough for me. the liver wasn't that bad, actually.


miss sarah shelquist.. i miss your smile and your awesome energy. hood.. i miss playing ultimate with you.. your amazing plays, and your frat boy persona.. and pete.. well...


let's just say.. i miss laughing with you.. and at you.. here is pete trying to recover after his sake fell into his beer before we actually did the sake bomb.. i think this happened about 3 times.


jodi, i miss your face.. that smile.. and the welcoming peace I feel whenever I'm around you.


here are some photos of a sake bomb.. in chronological order.. i like susan's face as she watches.. i end up pouring a lot of it on my lap..




and the beer master.. mr. zuckerman. i miss riding my bike all around boulder with you. and sharing beers on the patio.. and your perspective on life.


Ryan, I miss our intellectual conversations.. esp. that one about girls and their desire to marry.. ;) and your red pants.


and this man.. matt.. i miss you an immeasurable amount. your laugh.. your presence in my life.. your pink skirt.. your positive attitude on the ultimate field.. ha.. and your amazing hugs.


there are many more people who i miss.. these are the photos i have.. I miss my family. I miss my mom.. and her fiery attitude, my dad and his advice, my stepmom and her balance, my four wonderful brothers..brady and your voice messages and e-mails, trevor and your growing out of being the baby of the family, aaron- your smart side and your soft side, colin and talking to you on the phone.. especially, "yeah, pretty much." i especially miss the chance to ski faster than you this winter. I miss team blonde.. my ex-coworkers.. the fake blonde, the badger gemini, mr. bock (who won the bet re: your engagement?), the protein queen, shashi and your smile, the efficiency master deb, rob and wes and our lunchtime rides, al and our creekside walks and the scrapbook we've been compiling.
Shannon and our early mornings, Sarah and Ash and listening to your stories at the kitchen table, Maverick and all our heart to hearts and dragging you up skunk canyon, Craig and your anchor support.
I love you all..
heidi

piki piki rides

i attempted to update my blog yesterday but the page was in korean... and i eventually thought i had succeeded but no. i was just happy i figured out it was korean. anyways.. here are some photos from adventures in getting to Ngumbulu.. the village 20km into the bush. i love saying that.. although images it construes are probably not actual. Just as people in america have no idea what African life is like.. Africans have no idea what american life is like. I tried explaining a typical day in my life to some high school graduates the other night at a bar near our place.. it was fun. Keep in mind these kids are well off, relatively.. have staff who clean, cook, do laundry, etc.
This is my first piki piki experience.. and probably the least frightening. My driver.. Mwasumbi.


This was our last trip Ngumbulu.. the lorry we went in on.. we walked to this point.. and came upon the four lorries that had left earlier in the morning, all stuck. We jumped in after they got unstuck. Sitting in the front is far better than the back. Although it may provide a false sense of security. This pic on the right is the lorry that was stuck in front of ours on the way out.. at this point, we decided to walk back. And luckily caught a ride on a different one after a couple hours.



This is a view out the window of the soap shop.


Francis.. at the orphanage. We played frisbee for hours together.. until it got dark. This kid is amazing. I wish he was on my ultimate team. He mastered the forehand in about 5 minutes.


This is the bar owner in Ngumbulu.. who wants to marry me. very nice guy.



Center kids playing a local game.. i forget what it's called... that i carved into the dirt for them.


View walking to Ngumbulu. And the infamous road.


Mwachi.. 6 year old center kid on the right.. and village girl.. gorgeous eyes.

imperfections

Nicki and I were walking home the other day from town and turning onto a main street.. a local woman was walking towards us and we appeared to be in her way. She looked at us like she was going to say something like, get out of my way.. although i knew she would never say this. She looked at me and said, in clear, good english, "you have a big stomach." And then we were past each other. Nicki and I looked at each other and bust out laughing.. i said, "did she just say that? holy shit." It is pretty normal for people to greet me in kiswahili.. and even in english.. good morning or how are you? but that is about the extent of it.. a more advanced vocab isn't there. And it is quite rare for a woman to speak to me.. especially rare in english. Although older people here are often educated in english.. but mainly the men will speak. Anyways.. I already have a complex about my stomach sticking out and my posture.. so this made it even more bizarre. Nicki and I laughed pretty hard about this, and then I started taking it personally. Why would she say that to me? My stomach is not big. It all seems surreal to me now. I think it was my father inside of this woman. She was possessed. Nicki looks at me as if I'm crazy when I say this. "You can't be serious?", she says. I want answers.. I want to know why this woman said this to me... out of all things she could have said. And my stomach really isn't big. I need to let go of this. I've met this woman Tajud.. through Deborah, the girl we live with. Tajud is a very spiritual woman. One thing she has said that is sticking with me. There are no imperfections, you are already perfect. You are an extension of god.. god is love.. you must be love and live with love. This goes against what is engrained in my brain about all the things I think are wrong with me. But I love listening to her say this. And I repeat it to myself...

favorite quotes.. and ramblings..

"Shall I roast the hen?" Nsemwa, the head teacher at the primary school in Ngumbulu village, where Nicki has started a soap co-op.. upon hearing that we would be coming and spending the weekend in the village. Translated to me by Nicki, in a very excited voice.
"Are those white people?!" Deborah, our housemate, while sitting at dinner at Mbeya Hotel, nicest restaurant in town, as she spotted people across the restaurant.. as if she had never seen a white person before. Nicki, Deborah and I laughing at how ridiculous we have become.
And a new one.. "I like you.. you are simple.. I was afraid you would be wazungu." Nsemwa to me.. as we sit in her kitchen in front of the open fire and cook and eat.. she was afraid I wouldn't want to live as Africans do. I am the first white person to stay in her house.. and the entire village for that matter. I smile when she says that, and think.. not many people would ever say that to me.. and think of all the times I have heard or felt the opposite.
I am still in Mbeya, Tz.. living with Nicki and Deborah.. who is now visiting home in Canada. Here is our house...


I was going to take a photo of Nicki and my room.. but I figured I would spare you all the disaster. On New Year's Eve.. we went out dancing.. and I wish I could capture the night on film.. as far as what the club is like.. but suffice to say.. we dressed up.. which involved dragging our butts off the couch and putting jeans and tennis shoes or chacos on.. and then as it started raining, our raincoats. Laughing as we realized we would never go out like this in the states on new year's eve.. but we should. Posing with our rain gear.



Here is a view walking from the orphanage into Idweli.. the village..


Our friend Nema's house.. on the walk to the center.. we greet here everytime we pass by. She is 25.. looks like she is at least 10 years older.. she has a 14 year old son.. this could begin to explain it.


A village kid who is afraid of me. I tried offering him candy and he would just look at me and laugh and run away.. and then come close again.. and run away laughing.



Here are some photos from Ngumbulu.. Nsemwa's kitchen.. where we spent most of our time.. cooking and eating.. and staying warm. It is cold in Ngumbulu.. and rainy.. especially at night. They actually have snow from June to September. She is cooking ugali.. a staple.. think thick cornmeal.. but white and with less flavor. This is eaten with your hands.. you roll it up into a little ball (using your right hand only to eat) and use it as a scoop to pick up sauce or beans. And of course we ate the hen.. which was delicious.. although i almost lost it when she gave me a strange looking part of it.. some sort of organ. i was able to get out of this b/c I have typhoid.. so told her I was full and couldn't finish all my meat.. did she want this part? And luckily, she likes to eat.. so was happy to take my leftovers. Although she did comment that wazungu don't like to eat. I try to explain that in America there are many people that want to be skinny, they think being fat is bad, and this isn't healthy. She misunderstands me and says, what, you think I am not healthy b/c I am fat? With a look on her face that this thought is completely absurd. Here, if you are fat, it means you are healthy. I say, no, no.. but eventually give up on trying to explain to her the crazy obsession of Westerners with being skinny. It is completely lost on people here.


Making soap..



Fodia(pouring) and Zena(stirring) inside their new shop.. they are the two main girls in the soap co-op.. who were trained to make soap and will train others. They are both orphans and maybe 14-15 years old.
White girl stirring soap.. it is actually hard work. The girls are very strong.. they of course laugh at me as I stir.


The actual process of making the soap only takes a couple hours.. they pour it into a metal box. Getting this box was a huge nightmare for nicki.. and transporting all of the supplies to the village is an adventure.


The next morning there is soap.. but it is a bit soft.. a problem. Dealing with this will be Nicki's next adventure. There is actually cell phone service.. and thanks to the 3 cell service providers in tanzania.. many people have phones. I say this sarcastically.. although it is good on some level.. if these companies.. along with say coca-cola.. used some money to help in a different way.. that's all I'll say. Coke is huge here.. and even in Ngumbulu.. which is 20km from the main road.. on the roughest, muddiest, worst road I have ever seen.. there is an abundance of soda. Not much other food.. but you can have a coke. It's sort of sickening actually.

The girls clearing a path to the shop.


Everyone wants me to take their picture.. and then see it afterwards. These men pose in the village center on timber. Timber is the main industry in Ngumbulu.. there is a lot of forest.. and they are rapidly cutting it down. Men.. mainly women and children.. carry this timber on their heads.. if it is close to the road, they get 50 shillings per piece.. if it is far, they get 100.. this is equivalent to about 3 and 6 cents per piece.



This is all for now.. I will hopefully write more about my adventures on getting to Ngumbulu and home on piki piki.. dirtbike. And include more photos.
all my love..