...it means no worries

With the final weeks gone, I begin to feel a mix of emotions.

I have finished my interviews and research at the clinic. Jasmine and I have done our final rounds of mothers and doctors to get the last ounces of information. Last month I decided that I needed to give something back to the clinic for a way of thanking them for putting up with my endless interviews, questions and ability to waste their time. After spending much time at the clinic I was able to observe what lacks and what needs to be improved in order to provide the best possible services for expectant mothers.

Jasmine and I spent the day in town searching for a place where I could buy the clinic new mosquito bed nets. The existing ones at the clinic are filthy with holes in them and sometimes do not even exist. A continuing problem doctors and nurses are seeing in these expectant mothers is malaria, so this is where I needed to tackle the problem head on. Supposedly funding of money and supplies are supposed to be coming from the government but either resources are limited or are simply ignored. An average bed net costs between $10-$15 so I decided it was the least I could do for such a great staff who work hard and passionately. I managed to gather up bed nets and also medical gloves in a local medical store. Although it took me 14 minutes inspecting each and every bed net to examine the quality and condition of it, I guess anything is better than nothing.

Long story short, the clinic was beyond ecstatic for this contribution of mine. Nurses were so excited to replace the nets that they even began dragging chairs and stools across the maternity ward immediately just to show me their appreciation. I received endless hugs and thank yous, cheek pinching and handholding. They were even excited about the gloves that they were running back in forth to the delivery room to replace the empty boxes. Who would have thought latex could make someone so happy? A couple days after the delivery of the bed nets, I remember talking to a mother and she even commented on the replacing of the bed nets and the joy she expressed made it feel like a success. My greatest moment was when the head doctor, Dr. Ngowi came up to be and thanked me over and over for my donation, hugged me for atleast 10 minutes and told me to come back whenever I wanted. I know there were times throughout my research I wanted to stay as far away as I could from that clinic and those long days interviewing, but at the end of the day it somehow is all worth it.

With research done and only a couple of weeks left in Moshi, I needed to find ways to occupy my time. One of my favorite days was when Jasmine invited Anna and I over to her house one afternoon for tea and bananas. Jasmine being such an amazing person and beyond brilliant girl, I wanted to see where she came from and the other side of town.

After walking across town and pass railroad tracks, we finally entered Jasmine’s neighborhood. It was a typical African community: women selling fruit everywhere, children playing in the streets, goats roaming at your feet, and endless houses packed next to each other. We finally got to Jasmine’s house; this consisted of 2 “rooms” housing 4 people; her mother, father, sister and herself. I think this is the moment when everything became real. Living in Tanzania for the past 2 months you understand the poverty of the country but I guess after being in a place for so long, it begins to feel normal. You expect dirt roads, people without cars, homes and clothes, but you never really put it into perspective until you relate it back to someone you know.

Jasmine introduced us to her chicken (which we got to hold), the one that provides the eggs to the family. Out in the back was the storage shed and a latrine; no shower, no electricity, no running water. Inside, Anna and I managed to sit snug on a block of wood, which we will call the kitchen. We asked Jasmine if she cooked outside, due to the fact it seemed to be actually impossible to cook anywhere in this vicinity. No, no do not jump to conclusions in Africa. Jasmine proceeds to pull out a burner from underneath a bed. This is where all meals are cooked, for 4 people. It was mind blowing.

Jasmine cooked an African favorite: fried bananas and tea. Her friend, Emma, came over to join us so it was good to experience what a normal hang out with her friends would be. The topics of conversations were fascinating. Jasmine being brought up in a Muslim family, she began to describe the expectations, the rules, the relationships with her friends, family and even boyfriend. Being curious as we are, we began asking questions about her mother and father, her siblings and where they are now. Jasmine has a boyfriend of 6 years, yet neither her mother nor father know about him because it is not allowed in the religion. Her oldest sister is married with 3 children, but didn’t finish secondary school because her father was “stubborn” and refused to give her the privilege of education. Jasmine was telling us stories about growing up with her family and the pressure of being the role model for her younger sister, since her older sister was everything but that. You expect lives and cultures to vary across the world, but it’s not until you have the opportunity to sit down to listen and experience the reality of it all.

With only a week left in Tanzania, it’s starting to become real. Friends that I have been living with for the past 2 months are beginning to pack up and head back to their real lives all across the world. New faces are beginning to move into the hostel and it feels like just yesterday we were the new-comers looking forward to our two months in Africa. It feels like I have been living here for years but at the same time it feels like yesterday I almost missed my flight from Dublin to Africa due to the fact that I thought the flight was 6PM and not 6AM. Oh how time flies.

With only 10 days left, Anna and I are shipping off to Zanzibar for the week, a little R&R if you will. If you do not know what Zanzibar is or never heard of it, please google it and photo shop my face on the white sand beaches.




…until then, Hakuna Matata.

can't bring me down, Africa.

Quite the week/weekend it has been, not because I was trekking through Tanzania via elephant back or exploring an uncharted African jungle, but because I was hospitalized in an African hospital.

After feeling like I had the bubonic plague last week, we were all hoping it was just some quick and easy food poisoning. After things started to look up Thursday morning, they rapidly went downhill. After barely surviving the night on Wednesday I gulped Gatorade hoping to replace all 167% of electrolytes I had lost. I managed to stand up on Thursday for more than 3 minutes, so I began to have hope. I was moving slow but at this point slow was better than being horizontal.

I planned on going back to my clinic on Friday to do some more research and to make up for the lost day on Wednesday but when 3am on Friday arrived, I yet again, hung out with my very dear friend; the bathroom. At this point I was crawling from my bedroom to the bathroom and was in tears so I begged Anna to bring me to the hospital just to get a malaria test. White as a ghost I managed to crawl in the back of Simbo’s car so he could bring me to the clinic where they bring their baby boy. He dropped Anna and I off in the parking lot and went on his way but at this point I panicked thinking I was going to have to play charades in order to explain my symptoms. Thankfully, they spoke English.

Long story short: the doctor took one look at me and told me he was admitting me into the emergency room and keeping me for observation. At this point, there were about 3 nurses entering the room and escorting me into the back rooms. I told Anna I was going to be at the hospital for a couple of hours and to go home but she insisted stayed with the helpless mzungu. Whatta  girl.

I eventually entered into my lavishing room that was going to be home for the next 6 hours. Let me describe this room for you: imagine a jail cell (yes, even the windows had bars on them), 2 beds without sheets and pillows, cement walls, a sink without soap, and the only source of light was the natural light beaming through the caged windows. After I got over this situation, I was told to take off my shoes and lay in bed. Seriously? I was atleast hoping for a cool hospital gown. I met my new best friend (yes, someTHING other than the toilet) Mary. One of the greatest nurses around, I’m most definitely writing a letter to this hospital and nominating her for employee of the month. She told me to get comfortable because it was going to be a long day. So I sat on the bed and smiled; however this was not suitable for Mary. She MADE me lay down and told me, “SLEEP.” Keep in mind it was 9:15am and I had been sick for the last 6 hours so sleeping was not in the agenda.

The next 6 hours consisted of 6 IVs of antibiotics and salt solutions, 2 injections to stop me from being sick, endless games and stories. At one point Mary decided I looked bored and began telling me a story. Because I didn’t understand a lot of her Swahili she proceeded to tell me I was lazy for not learning her language. Really, I don’t think this is the time for a language lesson. Anna, having a background in microbiology, kept tabs on the sterile needles, EVERY solution that was entering my body, asking questions like my mother would and even requested each and every information leaflet on the antibiotics. I’m sure they were ready for us to leave already.

By 1pm, the clinic had literally shut down. Yes, Anna and I were the only patients in the clinic while all of the doctors and nurses went for lunch, expect for my girl Mary. She sacrificed her own appetite to take care of the poor mzungu with the low blood pressure and failing body. At one point I even saw my doctor outside mingling with the locals on his lunch break as I was on my deathbed.

By 4pm the insanity was beginning to hit. Anna was threatening me that she was going to leave me hooked up to the IVs and let me walk home. I was yelling at Mary to make the drip go faster, and the minute she walked out of the room I would speed up the process myself. At one point I began to have an allergic reaction to an antibiotic so Anna ran around the clinic trying to locate Mary and tell her something wasn’t right. Thinking she was crazy and overreacting, the nurses came in and inspected my arm and the smiles on their faces immediately disappeared. One IV removed, 5 more to finish. The boredom got so bad we started to putting on the rubber gloves, using the stethoscope and taking each other’s blood pressure. I also decided I wanted to stretch my legs and do laps around the clinic so yes, there I was cruising the hallway with my IV attached on its moveable stand. One of the greatest experiences as a patient.

Eventually, the IVs ran out and it was time for my critique. At this point even if I felt as if my organs were about to fail, I was going to get out of this 2x4 room. The doctor gave me the clear and told me to return the following day to get the IV out of my arm and to evaluate my progress. I was instructed to basically eat nothing but bread and drink only water for the next week. Please, don’t spoil me.

I returned back to the hostel, drugged up, dragging my feet and with an IV needle sticking out of my hand. For all of those people who thought Lena exaggerates when she doesn’t feel well, check out that IV in the hand. Everyone was getting ready for a BBQ we had that night, music was playing and everyone had started celebrating. Nope, there I was in the corner being the sober photographer. IV: 1, Lena: 0.

The next morning Anna and I ventured back to see the doctor and of course, Mary. In the waiting room Mary immediately came over to me to see how I was doing. You know you have been in Africa too long when you are recognized not only in town, but at a hospital. I met with the doctor, he said I looked like a human again (thank you?) and wanted to make sure I was taking my medicine correctly…pills? What? This is when panic #2 started. Calls were made, words were spoken and again, 4 nurses came into the room. Apparently there was a “miscommunication” between the pharmacists, doctor and nurses and I left without something that maybe could keep me alive. In the end, I got my needle out, got my four prescriptions and a bill for only $30.00. Beat that Blue Cross Blue Shield.

Africa: 1. Lena: -2

What a week it has been.

Yesterday marked the halfway point of our time here in Africa. Some days it feels like I have been here for months, and others it feels like I got here yesterday.

This past weekend some of us girls decided to get away from the rambunctious hostel and have a girls night, so we headed to Lake Chala. Amanda, who owns the hostel, decided to tag along for the weekend since her friend is the one who manages the campsite. The 45 minute drive to the lake was gorgeous; miles of green fields, the view of Mount Kilimanjaro, fields of sunflowers and the dirt so rich it is deep red.

We arrived mid-afternoon on a perfectly sunny day. Although the campsite is quite small and simple, it’s everything you need. We dropped our stuff off in our tents and took the “tour.” Being just a year old, the campsite is in perfection condition consisting of a tiki bar looking over the lake with Kilimanjaro in the background, an outside BBQ place, an outside kitchen and the lake just steps away. As you stand on the campsite ground you are in Tanzania and just looking out on the other side is Kenya’s countryside. After enjoying an iced cold Serengeti beer, we decided to venture down to lake, however we were not informed of the hike that was ahead of us. Looking as if it were approximately 40 steps to the lake, it suddenly turned into rock climbing. Somehow we managed and avoided the edge’s drop off, we made it to the lake. As pretty as it was we were skeptical due to the rumors of crocodiles living in it and the death of a few swimmers. However, I decided to take the risk. I must say, it was one of the most terrifying 15 minutes of my life, as Anna would keep looking behind me to make sure I wasn’t about to become someone’s meal. We were also joined by a local Tanzanian family who were swimming and canoeing in their wooden boat so I somehow felt a sense of comfort. As it started to become dark, we ventured back up the cliff. Never has my heart rate been so high in my life. I began to rethink my physical state when an older couple passed me on the trail.

Spending the night at Lake Chala was one of the most relaxing nights of my life, and I didn’t even know it was possible to be any more relaxed in Africa. Seeing as though we were the only campers that night, we had the place to ourselves. Mambo, our bartender, became our best friend. We ate dinner, played hundreds of games of Uno and the staff lit us a bonfire at night where we enjoyed our $1.50 vodka drinks. Quite the life. However, as 8pm rolled around it was time for me to hit the tent. I wish I was kidding.

The next day we stayed around the campsite for the day for the Sunday BBQ. The couple from South Africa, who manage the campsite, brought their baby Tristan and their new puppy to join us. To be honest, I was more fascinated by the dog. We spent the afternoon tanning, reading, playing games, drinking and eating. Again, got sunstroke for the second time. Never underestimate the African sun.

Back to Moshi and back to start yet another week of research at the clinic. Jasmine, my translator, is a gift from God. She is such a people person and I feel as if people trust her whenever they talk to her, so people are very open. Since I finished my patient interviews last week, this week I start on the doctors, nurses, midwives and managers. However, being so busy and trying to save lives, they don’t want to give me the time of day. The think that blows my mind about the doctors here are they come and go as they want. One of the head doctors has been out for weeks, and some of the nurses in the maternity ward take breaks when they want. Slowly but surely, I have started the interviews with the doctors. I can confidently say I fell in love with one of the doctors this week. Although we do not speak the same language, nor was he interested in a 22-year-old mzungu, I think there is hope.

I finally had my “ah-ha” moment within the field of global health. Yes Dad, I can now assure you the quarter of a million dollars you have spent on my education has paid off. Let me elaborate so we can celebrate together. A part of my interviews for the nurses and doctors investigate post and prenatal care for the mothers, what is expected and what is actually done. So the topic of breastfeeding comes up; due to the fact that African women love to breastfeed anytime, anywhere to feed their little children. Anyways, so I begin to ask this one nurse who is in the middle of her practical and doing rotations. I ask what the protocol is about HIV positive mothers and breastfeeding and what do they suggest them to do in order to successful prevent mother to child transmission. Her answer: “The HIV+ mother will only breastfeed for 6 months.” Dumbfounded, I began to ask questions and investigate HOPING maybe she misunderstood the question. False. Again, she said, “The baby can only become infected from her mother if the baby has teeth and draws blood from the mother’s nipple.”  Again, Wrong. At this point I am FIGHTING with the doctor via Jasmine, yet still trying to be culturally conscious and competent, understanding this is their culture and not their fault for lack of education. At one point Jasmine looked at me and said, “Lena, I don’t know what to tell you, this is what they believe.”

The next day I interview one of the doctors. Again, breastfeeding came up. Same question asked about HIV positive mothers. Again, same answer. “The mother has a choice of how long to breastfeed but we only suggest 6 months in order to prevent HIV transmission.” I just can’t take it anymore. Maybe this does not upset you as much as it does me due to the fact I have studied public and global health and PMTCT (prevention of mother to child transmission) is one of the highlighted subjects within nutrition and health in a developing country. So, as a health professional, I must take it into my hands and somehow educate these staff and patients via posters or pamphlets.

I took the day off of interviews yesterday to contribute my good deed. Anna, Jasmine and I strolled through town to do some errands. From the interviews I have began to get a sense of what needs to be changed or improved within the clinic. From talking to nurses and patients all have had an opinion about the insecticide-treated bed nets that prevent malaria. Also after asking what the greatest health issue seen in the clinic is was malaria, I knew something had to be done. These bed nets that are currently hanging (and I mean tied) up above the beds are filthy. There are dead mosquitos, dried blood and holes in them. Hence, the high rates of malaria because nothing is being down and honestly, probably one of the last things on the staff’s mind is replacing them. So I hustled and bustled my way through town to find bed nets as a contribution and a way to thank the clinic for putting up with the annoying mzungu. After about 5 stores and many arguments I finally found my match. Ten bed nets later and only $20.00 I feel a sense of accomplishment. Additionally I decided to make a stop at the medical store and buy them boxes of medical gloves, again, something they mentioned that lacked. The small things in our hospitals at home seem to be the greatest yet most absent items in developing countries. After a hot afternoon in town, we decided to treat Jasmine to lunch at our favorite coffee shop, Union Café. This is where is all went downhill.

Around 5pm, I started to not feel right. I begin to feel sick but just thought it was the heat and walking so much. I went in my room to check some emails and that was the end of me. I began to feel nauseous and told Anna to let me lay down for a few and let me know when dinner was ready. 15 hours later, I am still lying in my bed. Food poisoning led to severe dehydration. I can confidently say I have experienced swine flu and I think this topped the charts. I was throwing up for 12 hours straight, couldn’t sleep for a minute due to the fact that my body felt as if a truck had hit me. At one point I was so hot and couldn’t be in my room anymore, I decided to lay on the grass at 4am, and therefore be one step closer to the bathroom. I even began texting my mom, hoping she was either 1. going to show up at my door or 2. mail me some chicken soup. Long story short, somehow I survived. I can now sip water and keep it down. “I’m just one stomach flu away from my goal weight.” (Insert Ellie Spang’s voice here). I’ll tell you one thing, there is NOTHING worse than spending a night sick in an African bathroom. I have hit an all time low. Thank god for Anna, she has been my mother away from home. Not only does she have her own pharmacy here with drugs and electrolytes for me, she has brought out the entire store of Gatorade in order to rehydrate me.

This weekend the LMU group is going to Lake Chala for the weekend so we are staying behind to go to the Marangu Waterfalls. Here, we will climb up the waterfalls and jump off and then explore the caves nearby. Fingers crossed these waterfalls are not the habitat for the crocodiles that have left Lake Chala.

...more goat please.

The pure beauty of a language barrier is the fact you can ignore anyone, anywhere and not be considered rude and ignorant. This is what every day consists of: Tanzanians talking some Swahili bullshit to you as you smile, nod your head and continue on your way.

A group of 12 Americans have arrived at Hostel Hoff. Just incase I forgot to mention what Hostel Hoff is; it is a hostel dedicated to David Hasselhoff. I wish I was kidding. In our TV room, there are pictures of him awkwardly seducing you in his Baywatch bathing suit. I think we deserve a personal visit from David himself for even putting up with this nonsense and embarrassing reputation. Personally, all I can think of while staying here is him ferociously and drunkenly eating that hamburger on the kitchen floor. I bet that would be quite the awkward dinner conversation if he ever does decide to make an appearance. Anyways, these Americans have ventured from Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles. Quite the bunch, and one of the teachers in the group graduated from Syracuse so we very often reminisce over candle light and gin about Marshall Street, Carrier Dome and Chucks. Yes, candle light, due to the fact that Tanzania decided that for the next two and a half weeks electricity will be off from 6am to 11pm. Therefore, we are forced to become nocturnal creatures, set alarms for midnight and proceed with our daily routines. Yesterday it came to a point where I had to run 34 laps around the yard just so I could work up somewhat of a sweat so the cold AND dark shower was somewhat bearable. In the end: I started to lose my breath and had to get out before I even washed the shampoo out of my hair.

This past weekend about 21 of us decided to venture into a Massai village for the day. If you do not know who the Massai are, please google them. Sunday morning, we got picked up by our own personal bus and ventured into the African terrain. About an hour outside of Moshi town, we arrive to the village and were greeted by the women and children dressed in colorful fabrics jumping, cheering and singing their songs. We were greeted by the village, and because it was Sunday, were led into the Church for mass. Yes, embarrassingly, this was my first time attending church since I was baptized, maybe confirmed. Obviously the white people were on one side of the church while the village was on the other. They were more than happy to include us in on the celebration and prayers. The priest was quite the handsome one. Although he looked EXACTLY like Obama, I was kind of into him. After a LONG 3 hours of church and sitting on what they call “benches,” it was time to explore outside. However, before proceeding on with our day, we had to get in the middle of entire village and introduce ourselves.

The Massai were more than willing share their life and village with us for the day. As the women stayed behind, the men and children brought us through their village, aka the woods. It was everything that you could imagine Africa to be like: houses made out of mud, goats roaming like dogs, no water, hot, children wearing no pants and the smell of dead animals. The children in this village were like the ones you see on the donation or adoption commercials on TV. Although they are fascinated by our skin color and the ability for a digital camera to show the picture just taken, you can’t help but feel bad for them. As a Westerner, you have to keep reminding yourself that this is their lifestyle and this is what they know. I kept asking myself how do these people not get bored and go clinically insane. They have NOTHING but their tribe and the trees. The children followed us around like we were celebrities and always wanted to play with our cameras or hold our hands. 

As we made our way through the village, we got a “tour” of the mud huts, which consisted of one room, played with the local goats, which looked like my dogs, took pictures and met the locals. At one point, one of the Massai motioned me to follow him into the cornfields. Hesitant but curious, I found him personally hacking down a stock of corn for me with his machete. For the rest of the day, there I was, a little white girl, DRAGGING, not carrying, a whole stock of corn. This “present” I received represented acceptance into their village. To this day, the corn resides in my room.

As the sun got stronger so did the smell of roasting goat. The goats that I had formally held and petted, one of the poor little nuggets was now roasting in the fire for our lunch. They gathered us around the hand made fire to witness skewers of meat cooking; hoping it was cow or something edible. However, to our surprise, there was the skin of the goat peacefully resting next to the fire. Talk about fresh. We were then lead to their “dining area.” This consisted of us sitting on animal hides, passing around the plates of goat and warm coca-cola; nothing like Americanizing the local villages of Africa. Me, being the most picky, judgmental, arrogant person when it comes to eating and trying new food, I was open minded. DAD- please do not think for one second I DIDN’T smell the goat before I ate it, because I did. I'll tell you one thing, this goat needed some BBQ sauce, and A LOT of it, and maybe some salt. As I chewed the goat all I could think about were the goats I was petting just hours before lunch, its skin laying next to the fire and until I began to gag. Yes, there I was gagging in the Massai village. I’m surprised they didn’t sacrifice me in the fire for offending them. After the longest chew and swallow of my ENTIRE life, I then depended on the Pringles I had packed to hold me over.

After lunch, the local choir entertained us with some dancing, singing and chanting. Although the chanting sounded like animal mating sounds, it was quite the experience. After the celebrations, we had some time to mingle with the locals some more. Although these people stretch their earlobes and wearing pounds of beads on their bodies, they were absolutely fascinated by tattoos. Our friend has both of his arms tattooed and they would not stop touching his arms. Some of the girls were even scared to touch his arms while the men would stroke his arms and then try to scratch the ink off. The children kept swarming us and pulling on our shirts to take their pictures and show them immediately after, pointing to the screen and laughing uncontrollably at themselves. To think about it, I doubt some of these children don't even know what they look like. After a day’s worth, it was time to return to Moshi.

The rest of the week was productive. I have finally started to conduct my interviews at the clinic for my research. I have hired a local girl from Moshi to be my translator who has become my best friend. She is 21 and applying to University so is trying to make some money. Her English is great and is such a people person. I have already interviewed 15 mothers at the clinic thanks to her. It’s definitely night and day having a translator and actually understanding what is going on around you in this foreign country. She tells me that when we walk down the street, all of the locals always ask her “where did you get your mzungo?!” I take her to lunch after work and she tells me about her family, school and her boyfriend. She wants to be a lawyer, but can and will only study whatever subject the Tanzanian government chooses for her. Her parents work in the local market so she brought me to meet Mama and I got some oranges and mangos as a welcoming present.

Africa continues to amaze me everyday. Whether it is the locals, exploring town, public transportation, the way of life or their laid back lifestyle, you seem to never stop being surprised. One of my favorite things to watch are the locals selling their things on the streets. Whether it is a woman balancing 56 bananas on her head, people weighing themselves on the streets on the antique looking scales or the man who balances mirrors on his head, they seem to always have a smile on their face. What I have come to appreciate here is there happiness with life. Although these people have nothing, they make the best of what is around. They are always greeting us on the streets, wanting to ask where we are from and where we are volunteering. There was even a day a man bent down in front of me and thanked me for helping his people. If he only knew my job here is to annoy people with interviews while the mothers in the background are screaming bloody murder because they have no pain medicine for contractions and/or during delivery.

You know it’s going to be a successful day in Africa when you wake up to put a shirt on that only has 3 dirt stains, 1 food stain and 1 hole from the 12 geckos eating your clothes in your room. My Swahili is slowly improving thanks to our gardener, Richard, who teaches me at least 3 sentences a day. He will stop machete-ing the grass to ask me how my day was with the biggest smile on his face. If you could only see this man: stands about 5 feet tall with the biggest smile minus 1 front tooth. Our two guards, Ali & Seneti love to mingle with us while wearing their Massai clothes and tire sandals. Yes, actual tires cut up with straps sewn on. One of the most baffling ideas ever. Don’t think for a second I won’t be wearing a pair when I land at Logan Airport. Last night, they sat at the table with us while we tried to teach them how to play Uno. Due to the lack of communication, Ali kept throwing cards down, whenever and wherever he wanted, all while listening to Rihanna on replay from his phone.

This weekend we are venturing to Lake Chala, which lies on the border of Kenya and Tanzania; a local camping spot with swimming and, go figure, a lake. However, Anna just came across an article online about a girl’s body found with a missing arm in the lake after being eaten by crocodiles. Maybe we should reconsider our weekend plans…

...monkeys always win.

grab yourself a cold beer, this is a long one.

DAY 1:

Anna & I woke up at 5:30am, packed our bags and prepared for the trek through Tanzania. Sam, our tour guide, picked us up at the hostel at 6:30am. We then had to drive to Arusha, which is about 1.5 hours away from Moshi, to pick up the rest of the safari group. Our group consisted of myself, Anna, two girls from Australia and a French couple of their honeymoon. In Arusha, we stopped at the local grocery store to stock up on necessary things to survive this 5-day adventure: water, Pringles, chocolate, more water andddd beer. Priorities.

Our first destination was the Ngorongoro Crater. It was a foggy, rainy day so the ride there was not much entertainment. It started to clear up by the end of our 6-hour journey so we decided to pop the safari jeep roof open. I felt like a kid again hanging my head out of the car trying to catch the wind in my cheeks. Our first stop was to a local place where safari tours stop at a lake to eat lunch. We were joined by elephants and hippos in the lake while we casually walked around the area and enjoyed lunch. When I say enjoyed, that is a lie. Through the safari company, we are provided with all of our meals, so we had lunch prepared for us. This lunch box consisted of things I am still trying to identify to this moment. Not interested in that, I pitched the lunch and wandered around to take pictures. After about an hour here, we all piled back in the car and continued our way to the crater.

Finally after driving straight up a jungle-ish mountain, we came to the top, which overlooked into the crater. However, the weather was shitty so we saw fog and more fog. At this moment I started to believe this was going to be a long 5 days. We somehow made our way down into the crater and experienced somewhat better weather. Although none of us could feel our fingers or faces while hanging out of the jeep, it was worth it. Down in the crater is where National Geographic came alive; we saw elephants, lions, zebras, wilder beasts, warthogs, birds, rhinos and baboons.

As it started to become dark, we made our way across the crater and to the lodge, which we were staying at. When I was told we were staying in lodges, I expected log cabins with maybe one light bulb. To my disbelief we arrived to LUXURY. Although we were dirty, cold, tired and car sick, the total 12-hour car ride was well worth it. We pulled up to the Ngorongoro Wildlife Lodge, greeted by the staff with cocktails. I just hope to god my honeymoon is this great. We checked into our rooms (which overlooked the crater) and showered the filth off of our bodies. Please be aware that Anna & I clogged our shower due to the grass and mud that came off of our bodies. I wouldn’t doubt for a second if they were still trying to plunge out the crater from that drain. Never has a shower felt better than this one. At approximately 9:13pm, I was in my REM cycle.

DAY 2:

Wake-up call was at 8am. Due to the fact that I had a solid 11 hours of sleep, I was ready to conquer the wild. Thankfully, today was sunny yet HOT. We were sad to leave our luxury lodge but we were excited for our next destination: Serengeti National Park. Again, after HOURS in the car, we arrived to the national park. At each entrance of the parks you must get a permit in order to cruise around. This took about 37 minutes, due to the fact Africans LOVE to take their merry time.

Serengeti, meaning “endless plain”, is what it says it means; miles and miles of land with maybe 4 trees and 2 rocks. It is everything you would expect. It is the second largest national park in the world, extending across 12,000 square miles; I can’t lie when I say we spent hours getting from one end to the other.  Being the host to the largest mammal migration in the world, you do not leave disappointed. Here we saw leopards, cheetahs, elephants, giraffes, hyenas, zebras, wilder beasts and gazelles.

To start the adventurous day off, we were driving through the park when 2 giraffes ran in front of our car, a mother and baby. Because the roads are dirt with many potholes and rocks, the baby giraffe fell and couldn’t get up. At this point we thought it was dead. The mother finally realized her baby was not running behind her anymore so she stopped and stared from a distance. Our jeep pulled up next to the baby, thinking it was dead and we were all almost in tears. However, Sam our driver, who is now a hero, got out of the car to take care of the situation. When we realized the baby was alive, we then thought it had broken a leg. However, it turned out it was only a few days old and was still learning to walk. When Sam physically lifted this baby giraffe up with his hands to get it back on its feet, we saw the baby’s umbilical cord, confirming it was only a couple days old. Finally, the baby wobbled off with its mother.

Around 4pm we started to head back to the lodge. But of course, the excitement didn’t stop there. As we were driving back we came across a leopard casually walking in the street. It wasn’t even phased by our jeep driving next to him so we decided to slow down and follow him for a while to get some good close-up pictures. After about 45 pictures of the same animal, we saw him climb a tree, thinking he was looking for its babies or just resting. As we started to drive away, we spotted a baby wilder beast in the distance, lost and confused. At this moment, the leopard in the tree spotted it also and began to plan its attack. We watched the plan of attack for about 25 minutes until the wilder beast kept walking closer to the leopard now hiding in the grass. It was a bittersweet feeling, wanting to see a kill but felt bad for this baby animal. I felt like Steve Irwin should have been narrating the attack in the background. After about 45 minutes of this, the leopard finally attacked the wilder beast, beat him to a pulp, sucked his blood out and dragged him up a tree to save for his family. Just your average day.

Tired after our adrenaline rush from the kill, we finally made our way to lodge #2. As if our day couldn’t have gotten any more exciting or better, it did. We arrived to the Serengeti Serena Safari Lodge, again greeted with cocktails. Exhausted as usual, we ate dinner, checked into our rooms and showered, and not to mention included bathrobes. This time, I think I was asleep by 9:27pm. Making progress.

DAY 3:

Today, we departed the lodge at 6am to experience a Serengeti sunrise and see the morning animals. Lions and elephants are mostly active at this time so we hoped for some action, and that is what we got. After taking some great pictures of the sunrise, we then stopped to take a picture of a rhino that was extremely close to the jeep, maybe a little to close. This is when the rhino started to charge at our jeep. Way to early in the morning for this near-death shit. After escaping we wandered for a couple more hours, to ensure we would return back to the lodge before 9am for breakfast. Again, priorities. As we were about to head back we arrived to an elephant herd; 55 elephants migrating to god knows where. Apparently elephants in the Serengeti are not to fond of jeeps or people really close to them because poaching was such an issue so they are not too friendly, but this didn’t stop us. Sam always takes initiative to get us in the middle of the action, safe or dangerous. When I say middle, I mean middle. I might have even been on one of the elephant’s back at one point. Again, elephants were not too happy about this jeep migrating with them, as one of the big mamas decided to flare her ears, stomp her feet and started to charge. Thankfully, we made it out in time. Despite the near-death experience, the baby elephants might have been the cutest things alive. The big elephants would stand behind them nudging them along with their trunks to follow the group.

After breakfast, we had the afternoon free. Thankfully it was a perfect day so we decided to check out the pool at the lodge. Again, just kept getting better. This pool was ON THE ROOF of the lodge, overlooking the whole entire Serengeti. The pool had a waterfall, and even better, there was an outside bar. It actually felt like I was in Mexico on spring break, minus the wet t-shirt contests. We spent the whole afternoon there, swimming and having poolside drinks. Obviously, I got a little too cocky and forget the fact that I have been living in Ireland for the past year, thus my body being paste white. Being addicted to a nice summer glow, I abused the sunshine. Three hours later, I was sweating, burnt and had heat stroke. People began to stare as I walked through the lodge as if I was one of the animals on the safari tour. Heat stroked, tired and spoiled, bedtime was at about 9:00pm.

DAY 4:

The only productive way to start your day in Africa is to be hit by a monkey. Yes, an actual monkey. Anna & I were packing our bags up getting ready to head to our next destination when Anna told me to get up QUICK. Being in Africa, I assumed it was an insect the size of my head. No, no, it was a monkey IN OUR ROOM. There are signs throughout the hotel to keep your balcony sliding doors closed and locked, which we obeyed. However, earlier I took my towel and bathing suit in from the balcony to dry and didn’t close it. This monkey made his way through the door and into our room. Anna being the brave one decided to fight back. When I say fight back I mean she started thrashing the door’s curtain around to distract it while I locked myself in the bathroom screaming like a child. After a 5-minute fight, the monkey was back outside but wanted the last thrill by hitting Anna with its fist. Monkey: 1, Anna: 0.

Shocked and probably infected with rabies, we pile into the jeep, once again. We said our goodbyes to the Serengeti and made our way to Lake Manyara. Telling Sam we were disappointed in the hippo appearances, he decided to bring us to a hippo pool. Yes, this actually exists. We pull up to a “water hole” that had about 200 hippos in it. After stalking the hippos and being yelled at for being too close to the water’s edge, we continued our way to Lake Manyara. Please mark my words: this was the LONGEST day of my life.

Just so we are on the same page, let me describe the situation I was working with here. Imagine yourself with third degree burns strapped into a seat of a roller coaster that jerks you around for a solid 12-hours straight. This is what the car ride was like. Burnt head to toe, I couldn’t even sit in the jeep without crying and driving through the grand canyon of Africa and add in a temperature of 93 degrees. Sam apparently wanted to show us the back roads to Lake Manyara so we could see the Natron Volcano, an active volcano in Africa. As gorgeous as it was, NOTHING was worth this trip or pain. The scenery was beautiful, the villages were great to see but my organs were beginning to fail. These dirt/rock roads felt like my insides were on a continuous vicious cycle in a washing machine. In the few times we got out of the car to take pictures, the landscape felt as if I was in Iraq and the heat felt as if I was in an oven. At one point the dirt roads became loose sand, so we were drag racing in sand dunes.

As we were driving through the “grand canyon,” we ventured through some Massai villages (those with the crazy jewelry and stretched earlobes). Every time they see a safari jeep and/or mzungus, they run after the car asking for money or trying to sell some handmade jewelry. My favorite was the Massai children carrying chickens under their arms or casually carrying dead goats on their heads. Their jewelry and wardrobe is fascinating however my favorites are the young boys with the crazy face paint. I later found out the boys with the face paint are those that just came from a ceremony…circumcision ceremony. As we continued our reckless drive, we kept passing broken down cars with flat tires, as this began to make me have anxiety. The thought of having to spend more than 4 minutes outside in the scorching heat, I would rather sacrifice myself to the Massai as their village goat.

Literally, 12 hours later we arrived at Lake Manyara Safari Lodge; only 4 hours past our schedule arrival. All 7 of us rolled out of the van, sunburned, tired and delusional. However, yet again, we were greeted with cocktails and even better, hot towels. Because of the dust and dirt on the roads, our tshirts were a shade darker and our faces looked as if we had been hanging in chimney soot all day. Almost in tears because we were so exhausted (who would have thought SITTING in a car is tiring), we went to bed. Shocker.

Day 5:

Last and final day; 8am wake-up call and barely surviving at this point. I wish this morning was less eventful than the previous, but where would the fun be in that? I decided that I wanted to take pictures from our hotel balcony overlooking the lake. Anna was packing up as I opened the door. Once again, greeted by a BABOON. Never have I ever screamed and ran back into a room faster than I did this day. He obviously got pleasure out of me freaking out so decided to grab the door handle and viciously shaking it trying to get in. I swear to god these monkeys are humans, may be even a tad smarter than myself…okay, maybe a lot smarter. Baboon: 1, Lena: 0.

Our final hours on the safari were spent at Lake Manyara. Much different scenery than the past days in the park and crater. This was more of a jungle environment. At this point, we were sick of animals, car sick, tired and wanted to go home. When elephants and giraffes crossed the road in front of us we seemed to look the other way. I guess that’s what happens after thousands of animals and hundreds of hours spent in a car.  We begged Sam to bring us home, so we made our way back to Moshi. Dirty, dusty, sunburned, bruises and a missing toenail, I have survived the safari.

Conclusion:

This is what I have learned in the past 120 hours: Don’t feed the animals, don’t underestimate the strength of the African sun, going to bed before 10pm is not just for toddlers, I’ll never get in a car again, I’ll never go to a zoo again, never fight a monkey before 9am, they will ALWAYS win, and I am not the crocodile hunter.

Majengo Health Clinic

This week started the reason why I am even here: volunteering and research. I will be working within the Majengo Health Clinic in Moshi to conduct research by assessing the quality and appropriateness of maternal health services provided for women. On Monday, Abi brought me to the clinic to introduce me to the doctors and nurses, hand in my necessary paperwork and begin my volunteering. The clinic is everything you would expect a clinic in Africa to look like: cement building, no windows or doors and people EVERYWHERE. You would think they were giving away free cars with the amount of people lined up.

I was introduced to the head doctor, Christina. If I were to guess what Harriet Tubman was like, this is it, minus the underground railroad. She was overly excited and appreciative of my willingness to help and conduct some research, hoping to make suggestions for the clinic. She proceeded to hold my hand for a solid 30 minutes while taking me around the clinic and get me familiar with the area. The clinic consists of prenatal services, a laboratory, family planning, maternal ward, voluntary HIV testing and a centre for under 5 children. I was surprisingly pleased and shocked to see the line of people lined up outside of the voluntary HIV testing room. In global health classes we were always given the impression/heads up about the stigma about HIV in Africa and the secretively that comes along with it. As a global health student, I was excited to see the patients becoming aware and educated about HIV and the engagement of the health services provided. Slowly, but surely.

I was then shown the maternity health ward, where I will be spending most of my time. The ward consists of nine beds and a delivery room. The delivery room consists of one bed and maybe a flashlight. Definitely gives the sense of the lack of resources available but something is better than nothing, right?

It’s amazing to see the amount of patients, especially women attending this clinic. The clinic serves women from 7 surrounding villages, all arriving with their children tied to their back. I actually started crying at the clinic yesterday because I fell in love with the most precious baby in the “waiting area.” As they wait to be seen they either breastfeed, buy baby clothes that are being sold or converse with each other. It’s great to see the women all interacting with each other and using this time to spend with other women. Although it may take hours to be seen by the doctor, they make the most out of their time.

Next week will be the start of my volunteering and research. I have hired a local Tanzanian woman to help me translate my interviews for the patients and health care workers. I will be asking about the provision of health care services provided to the women and the patients’ views on their received services.

Until then, tomorrow is the start of my 5-day safari. Pick up is at 6am and then I am off to a volcano, Serengetti National Park, waterfalls, camping in a crater and swimming at lodges, sounds more like a vacation. Fingers crossed I cross paths with Mufasa and Simba.

mzungu, meat & madness

Today was our first town tour of Moshi. Abi was our personal guide and collected us from the hostel at 9am. This was our first time stepping into the world of Africa, as the night before we didn’t see anything and went straight to bed. The first time experiencing a town in Africa cannot be described with words. You feel like a fish out of water with everyone staring at you and you don’t know what to say, feel or do. Africa is what you read about, hear about and expect: dirt roads, hundreds of fruits and vegetable stands, children everywhere, dust, exhaust and beggars. However, Tanzania is definitely the more “developed” countries in Africa. I expected there to be less clothing, less cars and more poverty. Don’t get me wrong, poverty engulfs this place, but not to the extreme as I thought.

Moshi is a small town but has everything you need to “survive.” Abi informed us with the ins and outs and where everything is. Although I felt like a lost puppy wandering around this foreign town, by an hour or so I got the hang of it. By the 12^th time I heard “mzungu” (meaning white person) yelled at us you kind of begin to feel “welcomed” and recognized. To this day, I still don’t know if mzungu is a good or bad term for us but I’ll take it, it’s reversed racism over here, which I don’t quite understand. It would be like us seeing a black person in America and yelling out “black person” on the streets. It’s baffling, but you must learn to go with it. The best part about cruising the streets of Africa is seeing all of the t-shirts everybody wears. My top 3 favorite: Obama’s face, a little boy wearing a shirt saying “Hustler” and a man wearing a Syracuse t-shirt. Winning.

Abi walked us around and showed us some great local places to get food and drinks. I experienced my first mango/banana smoothie, which they literally hacked down a tree in front of me in order to get the fresh fruits. After, he took us to the local market where everyone buys food. He first asked us, “are you vegetarians?” “No.” And now I understand why he must ask this question. The minute you enter this market you feel like you are residing INSIDE of an actual animal. I cannot even begin to explain, express or identify the animals that were slaughtered and hanging above, around and underneath us. It’s not the meat that made me sick; it was the number of flies that were nesting on them. In those 4 minutes of walking through the meat district I don’t think I took one breath of air. I can confidently call myself a vegetarian after that experience. Other than the meat, the amount of fruit, vegetables, beans and rice that were in this market was mind blowing and you get a sense of fresh (no, I didn’t say safe) food in Africa. The best part about the markets and streets of Africa are the locals carrying around chickens upside down or in baskets on their bicycles as they cluck away.

Over the next couple of days we became situated and familiar with Moshi. A bunch of us from the hostel explored town and start to mingle with the locals. They are extremely friendly and only want to talk about Obama. Little children are fascinated by us being white and want to hold your hand in the streets; either that or they are trying to mug me in a sweet way. I have already identified about 16 children that will be checked at customs at the airport and soon to be residents of Boxford, Massachusetts.

Friday was the royal wedding. We wanted to watch and celebrate the right way so we bought some champagne and went to Amanda’s house (the owner). Although we practically had to hold the TV antennas at a 45-degree angle in order to get SOME reception, we got the overall feel of the wedding. As we were anxiously waiting this history-making kiss, the power went out. Yes, at 3pm on a perfectly sunny day, we lost power. This is Africa.

Saturday, April 30 we ventured to Arusha, which is a large city about 2 hours away from Moshi. We took a “bus” for the journey, which cost us a whole $2.00. Keep in mind this bus LEGALLY fit 5 people however in Africa they have a different mindset. I think these Tanzanians have competitions to see who can fit the most human beings in one bus and also compete to see who can arrive to the destination the fastest. I can count on both hands how many times I thought the bus was going to flip and/or lost the transmission due to the fact we went 106mph over speed bumps. To top the experience off, its about 85 degrees with a 95% humidity rate and showers and deodorant are absent. If your lucky a woman will even pass her baby over to you as you voluntarily babysit for the 2-hour trip to Arusha.

Arusha is the Boston of Tanzania, bigger and more hectic than Moshi. It felt as if I was in China with all of the air pollution. I think I went through about 5 pairs of contact lenses, 12 litres of water and atleast 4 oxygen tanks in order to successfully catch my breath. We went to a local African craft market, which sold authentic African crafts (go figure, right) including paintings, masks, wooden carvings, jewelry etc, all for under $10.00. The streets are hectic, pedestrians DO NOT have the right away and they love haggling the mzungus. Definitely a great experience to see a bigger city but makes you appreciate the quiet lifestyle in Moshi. Yes, I came home to Moshi and hugged the nearest fruit stand.