The Last

            Just when you think you’ve survived Africa for 6 months, Africa goes and kills your dog. Kili was a black lab, German Sheppard mix that we got for the house about the same time I arrived in Tanzania and died the other day from a snakebite. He was perfectly healthy Monday morning when I left for the office, and when I got back in the evening Pina, our cook, met me at the gate to tell me that Kili was sick. I went to his dog house and there he was, rolled over on his back, tongue hanging out his mouth and foaming, eyes rolled in the back of his head, and making the most horrendous choking noise that I’ve ever heard. We called a vet to come to the house and look at him, and when the vet pulled him out of the doghouse Kili didn’t move at all. The vet gave him a couple of shots and returned the next morning to do the same, but by Wednesday morning he was dead. We had a small service behind the garden where we buried him. It was a nice ceremony.

            RIP Kili Man Jaro.

            After Kili’s death, I’m now convinced that Africa is out to get me. Just when I thought I survived my last 6 months here it’s been throwing everything it’s got at me. I guess it’s a going away present?

            Tuesday morning, as I went out to check on Kili, I was minding my own business under the tree in the front yard when I heard a rustling above. A second later, a three-foot long green Mamba comes falling down out of the tree right next to my feet. We made eye contact, frozen in our mutual surprise over the other one standing there, almost like we were both saying to one another, “Uh, what’s up?” Then it slithered away, never to be seen again. Scared the crap out of me.

            Later Tuesday evening, I was standing outside the house talking to Pina when I heard a low buzzing sound that slowly grew louder and louder until finally I looked up and there was a massive swarm of bees right outside our front gate. Now, for anyone who doesn’t know, I’m allergic to those buggers. They’re my only weakness. When I go to the doctor and they ask if I’m allergic to any medication I feel guilty for always saying no, so I always tell them bees. Whatever you do, don’t prescribe me bees. After I saw the swarm, I abruptly walked back inside the house, escaping death once again.

            I don’t know what it is. It’s seems that Africa is trying to kill me just as I was beginning to feel a sense of relief and like I had survived the last 6 months here. What can ya do though.

           

            Well, it seems that I will be leaving Tanzania. 6 months has flown by to say the least. I still think back to when I first got here and can’t believe that 6 months has already gone by and that I’m about to be leaving here. I’m not going to summarize the last 6 months or anything, or give any big revelations of things that I’ve learned during my time here, because those kind of things need to be realized after the fact, not before you leave.  I will say that September was by far the slowest month ever. I guess when the end is approaching and you know that you’re going to Europe and then home afterwards it makes everything kind of slow down and take its time.

            I have realized this month though that I in fact and without a doubt, cannot grow a beard. It’s just something I’m going to have to face. I didn’t shave the last couple of weeks because I decided to give it the old college try again and well, it’s like there’s a dried up caterpillar resting on my upper lip. Every now and then when I’m drinking coffee though, I feel some of it get stuck on the moustache and I’m like hey, look at that, doing your job. It kind of looks like a mustard stain at times. I thought maybe if I had Jonnie, the new long term volunteer, compliment the beard and moustache every morning that maybe it would give it some encouragement to grow and prosper, but it really didn’t do much. The next step was to sign it up for a little league baseball team to help boost its self-confidence, but there are no available leagues here so I scratched that idea. Alas, I shaved it. What can ya do.

            Honestly, there’s really not much else to say. I wish I could write down everything that has happened here, every experience and detail that I can to make people understand what it has been like to live in Tanzania for the last 6 months, but the question is where to begin. It’s hard to relate the day-to-day activities that go on here unless you’ve actually been here to see everything for yourself. From the dalla dallas packing people into their tin cans with wheels, street vendors constantly trying to sell you bracelets and waterfall visits everyday, to even the normality of having roosters walking through your front yard everyday it’s just a massive mix of daily experiences that aren’t fully appreciated unless you are actually here to see them in action. I’ll miss the walks into town where it’d be a different adventure every time. The other day I had a guy named Oscar follow me into town and tell me that he thought I looked like Eminem and that we should form a band because he looks like Rick Ross, and then ask me for a 1,000 shillings for escorting me safely into town. There are also 5 huge black cranes that perch in a tree outside a hotel on the way into town that have begun to slowly transform the brown dirt below the tree into a white paste from their waste, and everyday I’m afraid someone might sneak a fish into my backpack and they’ll swoop down for the kill. I’ll even miss the Tanzanite seller who wears a cowboy hat and walks with a crutch who works in our office and every day he asks, “Sir, sir, are you looking to buy Tanzanite today for good price?”

            There are just a million tiny aspects of life here that all combine to form the experience of Africa, and it’s nothing like back home whereas at the same time it’s almost like back home. I think the common misconception that I had before coming here was that you would not be able to get anything that you are used to back home. My suitcase when I came over here was packed full of every food, condiment, and toiletry that might come in handy over 6 months. I even had salt and pepper shakers, which are still being used at each meal because a certain mother of mine wasn’t sure that they would have it here. I’ve found though, that almost anything that you get back home you can also get here. It might be off brand, but you can still get it, and most of those things are cheaper here anyways. Take beer for instance, darn things cost a dollar at the bar here and you get a 32oz bottle. How can you pass up a sale like that?

            It’s just weird that the things that have become so commonplace for me over the last 6 months are about to come to an end. When I first got here, seeing a bicycle weighted down with a gigantic barrel of grass, or returning coke bottles to the store after drinking them seemed unusual and foreign. Now, it’s just normal. Three people on a motorcycle riding into town is not the least bit unusual, and if anything I think there could always be room for one more. Being stopped in a traffic jam as a herd of cattle and goats are crossing the road is just another average drive to the orphanage. After the initial culture shock is over with and forms into normalcy it’s just going to be strange to see it all go away. The daily activities and routines that I’ve grown accustomed to doing over the last 6 months are coming to an end and I’m going to have to get back into the old ones pretty soon. I’m sure Europe will be a reverse culture shock of sorts.

            Oh, the Europe trip. I’m really looked forward to you. Saturday after I leave Tanzania I’ll fly into Amsterdam and begin a month long backpacking of Europe. It’s taking me a while to get the trip all planned out and finalized, but I think I’ve got it all figured out. Here’s a break down:

            Three days in Amsterdam and take a night train to Berlin. I’ll spend 2 days there and then go down to Dresden, the city from Slaughterhouse-Five that was fire bombed in WWII, and spend the day there. Then it’s off to Prague for two days, followed by Vienna for three days. I’ll take a night train from Vienna to Florence and spend two days there. Then it’s Rome for three days, and then to the Italian coast to Cinque Terre where I’ll spend three days hiking and enjoying the beach. Then, it’s to the south of France and the towns of Arles and Avignon and all the other small villages around there for three days. I’m going to try and go on a tour of a vineyard, so that will be swell. I’ll go to Paris after that for three days and maybe draw a fake moustache on for the time I’m there, and then finish up in London at the beginning of November. My goal is to make one of the guards at Buckingham Palace laugh, maybe I’ll just for directions to the castle, I don’t know. I’ll be flying out early November 5^th, and should be back in the States in the afternoon.

            It looks simple typed out like that, but it took a lot of work to get all the cities, sites to see, hostels and directions to get there, and train schedules all figured out. It’ll be crazy going from Africa to Europe and the culture shock that will come from that, but I am excited.

            I’ll be sure to post something once I’m home about the trip and a kind of final Africa blog post, even though I’m in the States, but I figure why not. Thank you everyone who has been reading throughout the entire time that I’ve been here. Sorry for some of the long breaks between blog posts, I was doing stuff. I will see every in a month though.

Father, Mother, I promise to be home before Thanksgiving. I also promise to be safe. I’m just afraid we have different definitions of the word safe. I’ll make it home. How’s that?

Okay, thanks. K, bye.