Photos from our bike tour around Dar

 

off the beaten track in Dar

making local coffee

kacheta- it goes with the coffee

a local lady making us amazing chapati and spice tea

a typical house in our area

the backyard

local children

oh yeah, we were prepared!

a representation of the trash problem in Dar

the local movie theater sign board

my best friend on this trip, Allison

dalla dalla!

oops, Jennifer fell off her bike!

Spring Break Photos

On our way to Nairobi on the bus of doom

My bus-buddy Grant

The landscape right before the Kenya border

The landscape right after the Kenya border

the Nile- view from our River Camp

the River Camp- Kampala

it was a place for reflection (Elliott)

hostel in Kampala

Me, Kim M, Kim L at the Red Chilli

downtown Kampala

they have Dominoes! 

monkeys at the hostel

the resident three-legged kitty

Rwanda

Rwanda

Kigali

My lovely traveling companions- Kim L, Kelly, Kim M

Rwandan countryside

the volcano we climbed on our gorilla trek

farms on the side of the volcano

up in the forest

the machete- our best friend in the rainforest!

machete man

mama

we got ten feet away!

the baby (4 yrs old)

the big daddy silverback

I had that smile until he got up and started walking towards me

Wife #1

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Kenya, Uganda, Rwanda- Spring Break 2011 Part Two

Rwanda and Going Home

  Our bus ride was filled with lots of lumps and bumps and I remember more than once being woken up a couple inches off my seat.  I tried to rationalize it as the same sensation as being on a roller coaster...I like that feeling so it is all good, right? We arrived at the Rwandan border early in the morning (it was actually cold!) and we all sleepily shuffled off the bus to stand in a surprisingly long exit line.  It is always a bit of a weird sensation walking in 'no man's land' from one country to another.  I was joking about which country would arrest us if we did something bad in that limbo place, but one angry look from a Ugandan soldier and I shut my mouth.  I guess it is just like yelling "BOMB" in an airport. Oops. For anyone that wants to know U.S. citizens do not have to pay for  Rwandan visas (probably because of the obscene amount of aid we give to their country), but apparently those dirty dirty Canadians do! Two really nice Canadian gentlemen that were 'bus buddies' with us (there is a deep connection made from the mutual discomfort made on those bus rides) got stopped at the border and were told it would cost them well over $100 a piece to enter, which from the backpacker-esq looks of them I don't think they had.  Unfortunately the visa was about the last free thing Rwanda offered us and we more than made up for the cost in miscalculations regarding food, places to stay, and transport. Darn chapati not being 30 cents!
   Our arrival in Kigali was hurried as the bus was continuing on to Burundi so we were all shuffled off, handed our bags, and bid a possibly genuine farewell.  We sat down at the bus station to eat some food and gather our wits when I looked across the table and saw Kim's face contort in a look of worry and confusion.  She asked "did you grab the bags in the overhead compartments".  From later recounts of the story apparently my face went as silly looking as hers as we simulatenously looked over the balcony to see the bus pulling away.  Those bags, filled with all of our collected trinkets from the trip, were collectively worth well over $100 and the darn bus was driving away with them! Because we didn't stick out enough already as English-speaking white folk, Kim and I instantaneously sprinted like there was no tomorrow across the bus station, down the flights of stairs, and over to the bus.  Our friends still up at the restaurant were hollering like lunatics as we tried to flag the bus down while waving our arms in the air in a similarly frantic manner.  Thankfully our commotion was noticed by someone on the bus and my banging on the side of the bus was noticed by the driver, so we got on and retrieved our things. Whew! After a rather awkward lunch with everyone staring at us we walked to another bus station (I know, we haven't had enough of 'em) and traveled from Kigali to Ruhengeri.  Without intending to sound cocky I have traveled a lot of places and seen a lot of different things. But nothing, nothing compares to the stunning landscape and rolling hills of Rwanda.  The countryside is lush with every sort of tree and different covered bougainvillea you can imagine! It was clean, and as strange as it may sound, it smelled nice. The people waved as we drove through little villages and towns hidden between the hills.  One would never know what had happened in that country just over a decade ago unless they caught a glimpse of one of the delicately placed genocide memorials along the road. Every time I saw one my heart sank a little more and honestly, I was afraid to stop at the Genocide Memorial in Kigali on our way back.  In the same vein of thought as the global community had in 1994, isn't it just easier to look the other way? But I will get to that later.
  We arrived in Ruhengeri a couple hours later- it takes about three hours to get from the farthest corner of the country to the other. Whether it was our delirium from being on buses for what I think is far too long for any sane person, or Rwanda's attempt at confusing all of its tourists, we couldn't, for the life of us, read the map and figure out which way our hotel was.  After some botched attempts made by me at asking in French we finally got into a taxi and made our way there.  The hotel was nice enough and I don't think they much appreciated us dangling all of our wet clothes (we had been rained on earlier) over their neatly trimmed hedges outside.  After a quick bite to eat we decided to muster all of our courage and head over to the Rwandan Parks Office. I tried as best I could to replicate my mom's Masterchief face when she demands something (and gosh darnnit she will get it and you better bring it out with a smile!) though I cannot imagine I gave it justice. Why the stern, demanding faces? Well after two weeks of heckling the Parks Office to give us our permits and a lot of disorganization on their part, we still didn't have them. And now we were in Rwanda so we kind of needed them...especially since we had spent all day in Kampala at the banks trying to deposit money.  These permits were starting to have the elusive appeal of the "golden ticket" in Willy Wonka.  On our way there we ran into some other foreign students at UDSM, Outi and Matthew in Ruhengeri for the gorilla trekking as well! They had been having problems with the Parks Office as well so they joined our tough-lookin' group and we all marched over together.  Nothing was solved during that meeting and we were told to "come back at three o'clock".  Apparently there weren't any permits available so we had essentially payed for non-existent pieces of paper. Kim Martin, the girl in our group that was 'in charge' of the permits would have been blowing steam out of her ears were she a cartoon character.  We decided it was time to eat. We sat around the table of the restaurant devising ways into obtaining our permits coming up with anything from me being pregnant and 'this was my last opportunity to see the gorillas before I have the baby!' to 'we have connections in Dar es Salaam...don't you make me call them!". If worst came to worst we would march into that office and get our money back (and probably sneak into the park regardless of our permits).   Thankfully after a rather bizarre meeting with an aussie gent we got everything settled, faxed in proof of ID, and went to bed happy.
   The next morning we all met up and drove to the park...me, Kim L, Kim M, Kelly, now two Australian people, Matthew, and Outi.  Our tour guide Hope, was a riot and definitely made the whole experience that much better. We climbed up to 9,000ft to see the gorillas (a family of 14) and got within 10 feet of the silverback! It was breathtaking.  I had to keep reminding myself of where I was and that yes, I was in fact ten feet from a 200k animal on the top of a mountain in Rwanda. Of course my camera died halfway through our visit with the gorillas (of whom didn't care one bit that we were there).  It was for the best because instead of spending the hour with fourteen mountain gorillas concerned about getting the best photo, I just stood and watched them.  It made it all the more important to me because these are the last mountain gorillas in the world. Our hike up, observation and climb down took about six hours all together and we were accompanied  by Hope, a man with a machete, and once we were in the Park, three men with rifles. When we got to where the gorillas were there were another five men, two with walkie-talkies and three with larger guns.  We were told these men were not there for our protection, but for the gorilla's protection.  Their job consisted of following the animals around 24/7 to make sure they were protected from poachers...how cool! When we all came off the mountain, albeit covered up to our knees in mud, every single one of us was simultaneously stunned into silence and full of energy.  For anyone reading this I suggest that you make gorilla trekking (in Rwanda, Congo or Uganda) a life priority. It would be hard to top such an experience.
  It took us each about 45 minutes to scrub the mud off (I deemed my pant legs un-salvageable) and we packed our things.  Once we were semi-clean we left Ruhengeri to Gesenyi.  Our time in Gesenyi (which is next to Lake Kivu of which I am still certain is a mis-named ocean) was luxurious and relaxing.  Let it go on the record that I went to the gym at least once in my whole time in East Africa! However, we all had our own bits of excitement there. Kim and I got on a boda boda (a motorcycle- form of public transport) for the first time. She looked fine but I was praying every second on that thing, start to finish, "God save us, God save us". I would willingly jump off a 144 ft platform a million times before ever getting on a boda boda again. Kim M. and Kelly on the other hand tried to cross the border into the DRC and were (thankfully) turned away.  Adventurous as I am I am not stupid. I am staying away from conflict zones. With all of the excitement over we headed onto Kigali.
  Kigali was...interesting. It is a beautiful city with very friendly people but our time there was filled with many emotions. I, begrudgingly, got onto a boda boda again so I was scared yet again.  Our hostel, the One Love Club was not very loving at all and we were all more than a little upset at the accommodations.  Our last night there we went out to a club and the unexpected scandalousness of the dancing made us all feel more than a little awkward and embarrassed. The Genocide Memorial, while touching and intriguing at the same time, left me feeling guilty, morbid and horrified all at once. In such a tiny country it is hard to imagine 800,000+ people were killed in a span of two months. They were killed by their friends, neighbors and even their own families.  It was Hutu's killing Tutsi's, Hutu's killing Hutu's...everyone was killing everyone.  And no one was spared, not even infants. At the end of the tour in the Memorial there was a section on other genocides which only served to further entrench that sense of dread and sorrow in the bottom of my stomach.  The Jews, Armenians, Vietnamese, Ethiopians... I caught myself thinking that while these were undoubtedly horrible events in history, surely people would not repeat themselves? But of course they have and they are.  It is a genuinely depressing thought to realize how easily we can turn against ourselves and cause such pain and sorrow without even the slightest remorse.  We all think, "oh it will never happen to me" or "not in my country!" but how easily are we swayed by the media and our dislike of change?  How easily did all of these genocides happen right under the noses of the citizens, the government, and the global community? And what is worse than all of this? I think it is infinitely worse, worse than killing your neighbor with your own hands, that the rest of the world just sits by and does nothing. We choose to ignore because, well, isn't it easier to look the other way? It was a sad day at the Genocide Memorial indeed.
  Walking around Kigali after that was different. We now had a deeper understanding of the history of the place we were in but we couldn't help being touched by the beauty and kindness of everyone and the hills around us.  We left the One Love Club early the next morning (more than a little happy to leave that hostel) and got a ride to the airport.  Our flight back was rather uneventful except for some unnerving creaks in the plane from Kigali to Kampala but we all got back in once piece.  It had been an amazing vacation. There was excitement, thrill, beauty, adventure, friendship, reflection and many opportunities to learn.  If I learned anything from those ten days it was to be always appreciative of what I have: whether it be my health, my ability, my friends, my family or my life.

Goooooo T-Stars!

   Nothing makes a good Saturday like a friendly match of football (soccer for you American folk) between some Tanzanians and people from the Central African Republic.  If you want to make it an amazing Saturday well, why don't you make them the national teams from Tanzania and the C.A.R. and make it not-so-friendly at all! Add in a couple thousand people cheering in the national stadium, some of that good ol' Dar es Salaam heat, and perhaps some mango juice and you are ready to go!

   I don't follow sports avidly (in truth, nothing much more than an occasional glance at a sports headlines on the Yahoo! front page) but I really enjoy going to games. Some of my favorite memories are going down to San Diego and watching the Padres games, not really knowing what was going on, but enjoying the event regardless. Of course, Dar doesn't offer the same over-priced and usually questionable hotdogs and assorted snacks as Qualcomm Stadium but somehow I managed without. 

   All the CIEE kids went as well as one of the boy's new roommate Morris from Germany who is very nice but rather shy. We piled into a privately hired dalla dalla (it sounds fancy until you notice you can see the road through the floor through the vehicle ) around one thirty and headed off to the national stadium. Having suffered a rather unpleasant bout of an infected eye the previous day I did not stay up until 3am playing beer pong as did the others (and because, of course mom and dad, I would never do that) so while everyone was asking for the music to be turned down I was bouncing with excitement in the backseat. I got a couple of angry looks. But how could I not be excited?! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity! How often do I get to watch a sport that I hardly understand being played by a country's team I don't know play against another team from what may be the most un-heard of country in Africa? Oh yeah...I was excited. 

  Of course being the Americans we are (plus one German swept along against his will) we got to the stadium nearly two hours early. Fortunately that meant we got to stake out excellent seats in the shade, which was really good because we were all getting pretty hot and sweaty by that point.  As the stadium filled in (unevenly on one side because of where the shade was) we all started getting antsy. By the time the team came on, just for practice of course, we were all decked out in "T-STARS" t-shirts with a Tanzanian flag in-hand. The jerseys only helped draw attention to us as we stood up and screamed periodically throughout the match. 

  Overall it was an exciting match with C.A.R. scoring one point within the first five minutes and Tanzania scoring a total of two goals by the end.  In all honesty, the people at the game we far more interesting than the game itself (I am sure some college soccer teams could beat these guys).  With every kick closer to a goal, a trip, injury or foul, and especially during goals, the crowd swayed, yelled and sat on the edge of their seat as one.  The men in front of us kept wildly gesturing towards the field and yelling at player 13 saying that he was obviously tired so get him out of there! How dare you hinder the game in such a manner! At one moment the whole stadium would be up on it's feet in outrage or joy and the next you could have heard a pin drop.  The Tanzanians don't mess around with soccer... 

   There were a couple strange things that happened throughout the game like players (not the goalie) catching the ball with their hands, and that the field was the length of an american football field instead of a soccer field, but as I do not know much about the sport I kept my mouth shut.

  Unfortunately this was a qualifying match and Tanzania was one point short of progressing, but I definitely enjoyed myself and the two goals they did score. The people were animated and patriotic and the company was great (though I do think the vuvuzelas were starting to get to those in my group that had hangovers).  Overall, a darn good way to spend a Saturday in Dar. 

Kenya, Uganda, Rwanda- Spring Break 2011 Part One

Getting There and Uganda

 The grand Spring Break 2011 adventure officially began on the morning of Friday March 11 at 5am when, in the dark, we all shuffled sleepily into a taxi and made our way to the Ubungo bus station (which is sketchy even in the day time). As is the manner of salesmen and con artists in Dar es Salaam, we were immediately swarmed by 'ticket salesmen' and 'bus conductors' trying to lure and persuade us to get on their buses despite our repeated explanations that no, we in fact already HAD our tickets and did not want to go to who knows where in Ethiopia or Mozambique. I sent up a silent thanks that one of the boys in our program had ventured to Ubungo earlier that week with me to secure our tickets...now if we could just find the bus..? Whether it be from living in Arcata where our long-distance bus terminal consists of a maximum of two buses or from our lack of sleep, the close to one hundred buses and the weaving passageways between them at Ubungo were definitely confusing and intimidating. Finally, with the help of our taxi driver we found our bus and all hopped on.  At this time our group consisted of four girls (Kim L, Kim M, Kelly and I) and two boys (Grant and Elliott) so we were definitely well represented on the bus and dominated the first few rows.  Claiming seniority I, selfishly but thankfully, snagged the window seat and sat down next to Grant. The bus ride, from Dar es Salaam to Nairobi, Kenya and then from Nairobi to Kampala, Uganda took 29+ hours, not including the extended layover in Nairobi but it only cost us $50 and the scenery was stunning. My toilet worries were put to rest when the bus driver let us stop to go to the bathroom half a dozen times during the ride...how nice of him on such a long trip! Grant got off in Nairobi to go pursue his own adventures so by the time we got into Jinja we were only five.  Thankfully the bus driver let us off in Jinja instead of taking us all the way to Kampala or we would have had to back track the two hours which at this point would not have been appreciated in the least. Slightly delirious but energized because we were off the bus we went immediately to our 'river camp' overlooking the Nile.  The plan was one free night's accommodation (as per our rafting agreement) on the 12th and then a two day rafting excursion down the Nile on the 13th and 14th and a free day in Kampala on the 15th.  The river camp, dorm style, was a blessing after the night's sleep on the bus and was located on the top of a hill over looking the source of the Nile.  Even though we were getting our adrenaline fix for the year through white water rafting the five of us decided that we would try to bungee jump sometime after the rafting. Unfortunately with our schedule and location on the river for the next two days we were informed that it was bungee jump that day or not at all! That took me off guard! I don't know what sort of mental pep talks I had intended to give myself over the next couple of days but I had purposefully not thought about jumping off a landing 44 meters ( 144 ft) above the source of the Nile. Regardless, we all hopped into a taxi and made our way to Nile High Bungee.  Much to my surprise I didn't panic (maybe I was still in a daze from the bus ride?) and dove off the platform "like a champ", or so said the workers at the bottom. The worst moment was shuffling forward with the harness around my ankles to the edge of the platform doing everything I could to not look down; thankfully the scenery was interesting and I focused on that.  Right before I jumped I remember thinking to myself "If my parents could see me now they would both go completely gray!, Heck if I could see myself right now I would probably go completely gray!". And don't worry mom, before I even considered going up I asked multiple people about the possibility of detached retinas and, given reassuring answers, I jumped and was fine.
 After we had all gotten that adrenaline fix (Elliott even dunked his head in the Nile on his jump!) we went back to the river camp and crashed. For some reason I was unable to sleep so I sat outside on a bench overlooking the Nile during sunset and wrote postcards...it was lovely. Everyone came out to join me a little later and we spent our free night playing cards, eating delicious food and watching silly drunk people (at 9pm!) dance and react to the Manchester vs. Chelsea game on T.V. It was the perfect night before our big rafting adventure the next morning.
Much to my surprise I was awake bright and early again the next morning, all packed and ready to go! I remember thinking to myself that I must be an adrenaline junky in denial...bungee jumping and class five white water rafting all in one stretch? Definitely the case. We said goodbye to our river camp and drove to the main camp a few km inland and suited up. Nothing sexier than a helmet and a poofy life jacket! Good thing I  wasn't trying to attract anyone and instead trying to stay safe right? As we were sitting outside having some tea and coffee it began to rain on us, which I suppose wasn't too bad because we WERE going to be wet all day on the river, but it turned out to be the beginning of a much larger storm unbeknownst to us.  Breakfast was simple but wonderful...we had fried eggs wrapped in chapati (yum yum!) and I nearly yelled in excitement when they served us passion fruit. The drive was a little longer than normal because the creation of a dam upstream eliminated some of the closer rapids. "In order to guarantee class five rapids we have to take you farther down the river" our rafting guide told us. As it seems most rafting guides are (from my experience), our guide was a thirty year old rafting enthusiast who had traveled the world, not for the interesting cultures and people but for the country's white water. She is originally from South Africa and while petite, looked like she could successfully wrestle a water buffalo...I felt comfortable having someone like her as a guide. Suited up and ready to go (well, half of our group was scared witless after he safety talk) we went out into the water and practiced how to 'survive' if flipped out of the boat. One of the girls mentioned afterward that being flipped out then was one of the scariest moments of the rafting trip...not completely true in my opinion but our guide definitely meant business. When rafting your raft guide is god and when they say "back left, get down!" by gosh you do what they say.
 Unfortunately the first rapid was a class three and after a successful run through it we all became a little over confident in our rafting ability. Not to say that anything went seriously wrong later in the trip, but we just weren't prepared for the events that would take place farther down the river.  Remember that storm that I mentioned before? Well it decided, about two hours into our trip and past the point of no return, that it was going to release all of its fury right on top of us.  The clouds had been rolling in over us for a while, but hadn't started raining so we weren't really bothered except by the little chill that had set in.  A couple minutes before our guide stopped our raft and told us to listen to what was down the river.  We all fell silent and listened, straining to look as well but the rapid was around the corner and out of sight. It sounded furious and far too big for my appetite...maybe that bungee jump stole some of my confidence. She told us that this rapid coming up (with some traumatizingly frightening name like 'Hells Gate' or 'Dead Dutchman' ) was a class six and no one, even the guides with 20+ years of experience, rafted the rapid.  We would be stopping upriver and walking with our raft around the rapid.  But not to worry because we would still raft the bottom half which was a class five. Let me just say that the roar of that rapid around the corner was not instilling much confidence in me. We paddled a little further down and when we came around the corner the river had opened up, splitting into two segments separated by an island, and proceeded to fall down a series of three 10-15ft waterfalls and then against some submerged rocks creating walls of waves that I am sure would flip a raft instantaneously.  I don't know how we did it but we paddled to the shore a couple meters before the rapid without getting too caught in the quick current and all got out of the raft. When we got to a clear section we could see the rapid for what it really was. It was terrifying! And of course right at that moment that we are all taking in the horror and intensity of the rapid the heavens opened up and began pelting us with blindingly cold and hard rain.  Possibly in shock from staring at the massiveness of the rapid I scuttled (not too gracefully) back into the raft. We were to paddle "hard right" and then jump right in where those walls of waves began, only we couldn't really see because of the rain. I looked to Kim, the ultimate outdoorsy and 'badass' girl I could think of,  she tightened my life jacket and gave me a nod of encouragement, and we pushed off. In much of the same way as I 'don't remember' the first few seconds of free fall on the bungee jump, I don't really remember the panicked paddling in the pelting rain through that rapid, just the feeling of relief when we hit calm water. We hadn't flipped out but the rain had gotten harder and was mixed in with some hail (which doesn't feel too good when all you have on is a life jacket and a short sleeved shirt to protect your upper body) which decreased visibility.  As the river was pulling us towards the next rapid our guide decided that hmm, maybe it wasn't a good idea to raft down the next rapid near blind, and as the rain kept getting harder and fiercer we had to take shelter under the trees of a near by island. Bug and twigs in my hair aside, I was infinitely grateful to be out of the rain. Contacts and rain are not conducive to that whole seeing thing and the last place I wanted to be was out in the open going towards another rapid.  Once the rain calmed down (thought it was definitely still coming down steadily) we rafted out from under the island's trees and jumped in the water to warm up.  I hopped up back into the raft just in time because we drifted over a rock in the water and it banged some of the people's toes still in the water. Things lurking in the water are no bueno! Everyone was OK but they all got out of the water immediately after that.  We had about six more rapids after that (about twelve in total) that went well and we were rewarded with a delicious and hot meal when we were done.
  Soaking wet but full with yummy food we stopped at the Hairy Lemon for the night. The creatively named Hairy Lemon is an island in the middle of the Nile that is a camping stop over for rafters and kayakers.  Dad you would be proud...you taught me well in Indian Princesses. I pitched a tent all by myself! And it didn't even fall over on me in the middle of the night! I was thrilled to be camping, and in dry clothes, but I got food poisoning and spent the night and morning throwing up and in the bathroom. Needless to say I didn't go rafting the next day but I was OK with that. Instead the staff on the island fed me healthy tomato and onion sandwiches and I sat in a rocking chair, under a cabana, reading my favorite book while listening to the rain fall around me. Apparently the second day of rafting was much more relaxed and there were only three rapids in four hours, so I am actually really glad how I spent my day. I met up with the rest of the gang later that day and a free shuttle took us to our hostel, The Red Chilli, in Kampala. Due to a lack of available room we had to take the cottage with full kitchen, living room, and backyard for the same price as the other clients...oh woe to us and our fortune! We were even cursed with running hot water!
  Unfortunately elections had just happened that week and apparently it is a trend for most restaurants and businesses to close (in fear of protests or because they know tourists named Jennifer are hungry and want to eat) so our plans to go out to a nice dinner and then go out to a couple clubs was thrown out and we resorted to a lavish dinner of pringles, twix, and water at The Red Chilli. No worries because we stuffed our faces the next day.  Pancakes and bacon (REAL bacon) for breakfast and to-die-for Indian food in the afternoon. Our full day in Kampala was filled with interesting sights, a lot of time spent in banks depositing money for the Rwandan gorilla trek (more info to come on that!) and some shopping time at a mall clearly aimed at tourists.  Due to some scheduling changes we didn't end up spending another night at The Red Chilli but rather hopped on another bus from Kampala to Kigali, Rwanda around 11pm. It was raining as we got on the bus...I would like to think Uganda was shedding a tear or two on behalf of our departure. Uganda was wonderful and full of adventure but Rwanda topped anything that I could have conceived.
  To Be Continued....
 

One adventure leads to another

Life in Dar has been busy, busy, busy! While school is (disappointingly) rather unchallenging I have still found myself strapped for time due to a growing list of social, educational, and work-related events.  I am still working with CHAVITA which has gotten much better, though I am still not a fan of schlepping my laptop around Mtongani with it's infamous vibaka ('snatchers' in Swahili). I am quite proud of the growing stack of ethnographic fieldnotes I am collecting from my experiences with CHAVITA. I eagerly await next Tuesday when I will begin one-on-one lessons with an interpreter so that I can communicate better in TSL. Aside from my full day commitments with CHAVITA on Tuesdays and Thursdays classes have (for the most part) continued as normal and a good part of my day is dedicated to learning lots of interesting new things. Who knew, for example, that I could be worth more than sixty cows in the Luo if I wished to be married off! Mom and Dad, what a deal! In all sincerity though I am learning many new things if not mostly from just noting the differences between U.S. education standards and methods and those here in Tanzania. I think my favorite professor is the little sixty-five year old man who teaches Gender and Socio-Economic Development; he is surprisingly liberal, and didn't bat and eyelid when I gave my presentation on transgender, bi-, a-, homo-, and trans- sexual gender identities in contemporary U.S. For someone of his age, and given the gender relations in Tanzania he is refreshingly holistic in his understanding of gender identities and the social construction of gender. On top of all of this there are the oh-so-necessary dinner, karaoke, and birthday events that keep a young gal busy! 

  I know I always say this, but a lot has changed since the last time I posted here. More believably this time because it has been weeks! School has settled down and the protests seem to be news of the distant past. In fact, the UDSM semester has just ended and all of the students are going home or finally getting some sleep. Their study habits put ours to shame in the States! While they have been studying away I have filled my free time with another trip to Zanzibar, a sleepover with a Tanzanian friend at her house in Dar, and having dresses made from kitenge. What a hard hard life it is as a study abroad student, no? Surprisingly enough the people in our group (ten total) haven't had too bad of a time with each other which I think is impressive because we are together almost 24/7. I am developing really good friendships with the girls and I look forward to visiting them after the semester is over and we are all back in our respective states. Four of the five girls (me included) are actually departing on our midterm break adventure tomorrow! 

 I will of course tell you all about my activities and the wild shenanigans that occur in the next ten days (or lack thereof)  when I come back, but here is a tidbit! After a 29 hour bus ride from Dar es Salaam, through Nariobi, and straight through to Kampala we will go white-water rafting at the source of the Nile (and maybe bungee jumping? I'll watch out for those detached retinas mom).  A fun day in Kampala to roam around and then it is off again! But this time we are hopping countries and going to Gesyni in Rwanda to see the gorillas in the Parc National des Volcans.  Of course we will go down to Kigali to visit the Genocide Museum and learn more about the rich but tragic history in Rwanda. After two days in Kigali it is back home to UDSM for a bunch of exams and presentations! It will be a full, non-stop, crazy ten days but I am besides myself with excitement. I even have some sambusa for the bus ride- I am complete!

 Well it is off to bed...we are up at 5 tomorrow morning! And don't worry, I will do everything I can to stay safe. And for any of you that are in Carlsbad/Oceanside don't forget Tess' 21st is on the 22nd so give her a HUGE birthday hug. Love from Tanzania!