Having friends and family come to visit is one of the biggest events of every Peace Corps service. It may seem like taking a break from the job, but in reality visits from Americans directly help to achieve two of the three primary goals of Peace Corps which are: 1. Helping people of Tanzania in meeting their needs 2. Helping promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of Tanzanians 3. Helping promote a better understanding of Tanzanians on the part of Americans.
A visit by an American friend or family member is a wonderful opportunity to meet all of those objectives.
It was great to have Kara visit. She got a glimpse of my life and work as a Peace Corps volunteer and we also had a chance to see some of the attractions of Tanzania.
Not just traveling to Tanzania, but traveling in Tanzania can be grueling. Just a few hours after Kara boarded the plane in Seattle, I boarded an early morning bus in Songea and hunkered down for the 16 hour ride to Dar es Salaam. The Nyrere International airport is extremely small, and being a tall white woman, my sister stands out in Tanzania, so I was able to spot her before my taxi even parked.
I would have liked to let Kara and I relax a little in Dar es Salaam before starting the trek back to Songea, but I also wanted to meet up with some of my friends in Iringa so the next morning we got up at a quarter o five to catch a bus. It was only a 10 hour bus ride, but it felt like the longest bus ride of my life. We passed the time catching up and sucking on sugar cane that we had brought from a vendor through the bus window. We also had a lot of time for dozing. Kara laid against me on one side, and the Tanzanian woman in the seat next to me snuggled against me on the other. As we passed through Mikumi National Park Kara got her first glimpse of wild elephant, zebra, impala, and buffalo.
When we finally arrived in Iringa, we got a room at a hostel and then grabbed a bite to eat at the Hasty Tasty. We had grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches; perhaps not a very authentic first meal in Tanzania, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to eat cheese, and I figured it was a good idea to ease Kara in. Tanzania isn’t exactly known for its cuisine.
After our hasty tasty we hit the Masai market to look at souvenirs. Little did Kara know that the Masai market in Iringa is the best place I know of in Tanzania to get souvenirs. It was too early in her trip and she wasn’t in the mood for shopping yet, although she did buy a cute fabric bag. Not long after we met up with Liv, Tally, Meredith, and Peter, all education volunteers who were in my training group. We headed to the Indian and Chinese restaurant that makes the best pizza in Iringa town.
The next morning Kara finally got a taste of real Tanzanian food. We all had breakfast together at the nook of our favorite chapatti mama. Kara fell in love with chai ya maziwa (tea steeped in hot whole milk). This was the morning of Kara’s second day in Tanzania and already she was able to order for herself in Swahili. I know my sister is a smarty pants, but her ability to pick up Swahili was impressive. Fantastically, during her summer internship in Long Beach CA, Kara became acquainted with an employee from Kenya who taught Kara Swahili phrases throughout the summer. However, we found that Kenyan Swahili is a little different (the Tanzanians would say inferior) to Tanzanian Swahili.
Tally, Peter and Meredith had to leave directly after breakfast, but since Liv, Kara and I didn’t have to catch our buses until the afternoon we took a nice walk to the outskirts of Iringa town to climb Golgilonga Rock, which means “talking stone.” Chief Mkwawa liked to meditate atop this rock, and it is said that he was meditating here when the rock told him that the Germans were coming. From the top was a great panoramic view of Iringa.
One of Kara’s dreams was to ride in a daladala during her time in Tanzania. Daladala is the most common form of transport for short distances. They are basically 12 passenger vans with the interior modified to seat about 20. With our luggage in hand we caught a daladala to the Iringa bus stand. Kara certainly got her money’s worth on this daladala ride, all 20 ¢. The conductor loaded our luggage into the back, but when he opened the door in the front it didn’t look like there was enough room for both of us. We piled in anyway, and then somehow three more people squeezed in behind us. I was too squished to turn my head and get an accurate count, but there must have been about 35 people on board!
We were lucky to get seats on a bus from Iringa to Songea. Having a ticked in hand is no guarantee of getting a seat, which I found out the hard way once in Mafinga. I had already paid for a ticket and waited on the side of the road for 2 hours as the buses one by one passed by without stopping because they were full.
The buses passing through the Iringa bus stand hardly stop, so you have to be ready to jump on as it pulls up. Kara and I waited anxiously with our luggage and Super Feo bus tickets in hand as one Super Feo bus after another pulled through the stand. Luckily in Iringa I trust the ticket seller, Peter, more than I do the Mafinga sellers. Peter just kept assuring us that our bus was coming. Finally what must have been the last Super Feo bus pulled into the stand and we hopped on. There were exactly two empty seats on the whole bus. One in the front row and one in the very back row, so we separated for the 6 hour bus ride to Songea, my third bus ride in 3 days.
Our first day in Songea was spent hiking to the top of Mt. Matogoro, the same mountain I hiked with Rachel when she visited). Now during the dry season the mountain is still stunning, but not quite as enchanting as it was during the wet season. The new Ruvuma environmental PCVs Bill, Erica, and Amanda joined us. We took a daladala to the base of the mountain and started up the same trail I had taken before, but quickly lost the trail and ended up bushwhacking most of the way. On the first peak we had a delicious picnic of bread, avocado, oranges and beef jerky (a treat from America). After reaching the second and highest peak we decided to descend a new way on the other side of the mountain. We started out on a path, again lost the trail, but eventually found it or another again.
At one point the path crossed a bubbling little stream that emerged from the rocks. We all sat down and rested in complete silence, mesmerized by the enchanting gurgling of the water. At the base of the mountain we witnessed stunning new vies of Mt. Matogoro as we passed through tomato patches and banana groves.
I tried to help Kara blend in in Tanzania as much as possible (hopeless, I know). Before she came I had a skirt and blouse made for her in the Tanzanian style. I based the size off my dimensions adding a few extra inches in length here and there. Miraculously the outfit fit Kara better than it fit me. Then on Kara’s second day in Songea we visited Mama Ashura to have Kara’s hair braided. It took about 4 hours, but turned out really well.
Tanzanians love to have their picture taken, and are especially enamored by digital cameras that show the image right away. Unfortunately I can’t get my digital pictures printed in Songea, so Kara brought with her from America some of my pictures that I had taken of Mama Ashura previously. We gave Mama Ashura her pictures and took many more as Kara got her hair braided. We had quite and audience of cute curious little girls. One older girl even went home and changed into nice clothes to have her picture taken.
By the time Kara and I arrived in Songea, most of my students had left for break, but most of my Form VI students were still around. They loved meeting Kara, but had a hard time believing she was my younger sister. Everyone kept telling us ‘mnafanana lakini yeye ni mrefu sana’. You look alike, but she is so tall.
We were only planning of spending 3 days in Songea before heading up to Morogoro so that Kara could meet the family that I staid with for 10 weeks throughout training. By this time I was completely out of cash and of course it had to be the day when the ATM machine was malfunctioning. When I tried to withdraw cash the ATM did not recognize my pin, and like a fool, I tried three times at which point the machine ate my card and wouldn’t give it back. Customer service in Tanzania is lacking and the bank wouldn’t give me my card back immediately. They told me to come back at 3 pm, but when I returned the bank was closed and the guy who told me to come back had left. So Kara and I went to another bank to exchange some of her American dollars into Tz shillings in order to buy bus tickets for the next morning. By the time we got to the bus stand, every bus to Morogoro was sold out. So we had to buy tickets for the next possible day.
It was probably good that the bus tickets were sold out. As a result I had a chance to retrieve my ATM card, which still didn’t work, and stand in line at the bank for a few hours to withdraw money.
Another of Kara’s goals was to experience ugali at some point during her trip. Ugali is the staple food for Tanzanians and they LOVE it. It is a stiff porridge made of corn flour that is usually served with beans and eaten using your hands. Or I should say hand because you are only supposed to eat with your right hand. Tanzanians are amazed when I tell them we don’t have ugali in America. Numerous people have told me that when I return to America I need to cook ugali for all my friends and teach Swahili classes. These are the marketable skills I am acquiring during my Peace Corps service. During our extra day in Songea Kara and I went to my favorite little restaurant and had ugali and beans. The only other option is rice and beans, but they are the best rice and beans in town.
Back on the bus again to Morogoro, this time a 12 hour trip. I wish we hadn’t had to spend so much of Kara’s trip on buses. But that is the price for coming to Songea unless you want to charter a plane. I think it was worthwhile for Kara to see my house, my school, my life here in Tanzania.
It was wonderful introducing Kara to my host family. I always love staying with them, which I often do on my way to Dar es Salaam. They always have a hot bucket bath and a good meal waiting for me when I arrive, not to mention hugs and smiles.
I have been in Tanzanian for just over a year now, which means the new group of education volunteers have arrived and started training. I was Mama Margaret first Peace Corps volunteer and she is hosting another this year. It was fun to speculate with her about what my new ‘sibling’ would be like. Would it be a boy or a girl? Young or old?
We stayed with Mama Margaret one night then continued on our way to Zanzibar. Just a short 4 hour bus ride and a ferry ride away. I didn’t think it would be a problem getting to Zanzibar by sunset. But did I mention that traveling in Tanzania is grueling.
After arriving in Dar we took a city bus to the ferry terminal, which ended up being the wrong one. So we asked where we could find the ferries to Zanzibar. Usually Tanzanians are very friendly and helpful about giving directions, but when it comes to Zanzibar new rules apply apparently. Instead of just pointing out the direction, a man led us to the correct ferry terminal and then wanted a tip. Unfortunately I didn’t have any small bills, so I ended up giving him too much. Urggh.
When we approached the ticket offices we were literally swarmed by men trying to drag us into their offices and sell us tickets. We got lured into an office by a man who said we could catch a ferry that was leaving in half an hour. Somehow by the time we stepped in to the office a few feet away, the ferry ‘had left’. Then the guy lied to us and said that the ferry ride is only 75 minutes (it turned out to be almost 3 hours). He wanted us to pay him before he gave us our tickets. I didn’t go along with that and made him hand over the tickets first, which was a very good move because I saw that the price he was charging me as a resident was correct, 20,000 Tz /=, but he was trying to charge Kara way too much; 55,000 Tz /= when her ticket was $35. The exchange rate is about 1,200 Tz shillings per US dollar. We paid my fare in shillings and luckily Kara had the right amount of cash to pay her fare in dollars, and then we got the heck out of there.
By this time I was pretty irritable and didn’t make a very pleasant travel companion. But our travel foibles weren’t over yet. I had counted on getting to Zanzibar before dark and walking around to find a room. However, we pulled up to the dock in Zanzibar just as the sun was setting. Even though Zanzibar is part of Tanzania, they like to feign independence, so there is a customs check point after disembarking from the ferry. Everyone just walks right past except the guard pulls the white people out of the crowd every once in a while to fill out customs paperwork. It appears that racial profiling is not frowned upon in Tanzania.
Since it was dark we opted to get a taxi to take to a hotel. Stone Town, the main town on Zanzibar is a labyrinth of narrow, crooked streets. We definitely would not have been able to find our way in the dark without a taxi. For some reason the taxi had a driver and a guide. The guide was really friendly and pointed out things to us along the way. It seemed the driver didn’t have much experience because after the first hotel was full, he got the car stuck while trying to back out of the narrow street. At this point the guide got out and tried to direct the driver out of our predicament, but it didn’t help much. It must have taken 15 minutes to get out of that alley as we inched back and forth. All the time I am wondering what I got Kara and myself into and seriously considering just getting out and finding another taxi.
Finally we maneuvered out of the alley and found a hotel with a room (our third attempt). It was an old, tall, narrow building that had at one time probably been a wealthy residence, and had been hap hazardously converted into a hotel. It was run by some friendly Muslim women. Our room was quite small, yet the ceiling in our room was two stories high. At least the hot water heater and fan worked, which was not the case for the TV. By this time Kara and I were exhausted and ill-tempered so we had a little dinner in our room of granola bars and went to bed.
The next morning we got up early and had a great breakfast on the roof of our hotel served by two Muslim girls who were excited to speak to us in Swahili. Kara and I had already booked an all day excursion to a small island off of Zanzibar called Chumbe. We needed to get to the Mbweni Ruins hotel by 9:30 am to catch our boat to Chumbe. Our guide of the night before had pointed out the Mbweni hotel, so even though we didn’t actually know where we were after all the twists and turns we had taken, we at least thought we knew where we were going.
We set out on our way and soon realized that the Mbweni Hotel and the Mbweni Ruins Hotel were two different things. But Stone Town turned out to be a lot smaller than we had thought and we had plenty of time (1.5 hours) before we needed to report. In our guidebook map the Mbweni Ruins Hotel was not on the map of Stone Town itself, but appeared to be just south of Stone Town. On foot, we followed the road leading out of Stone Town and asked a few people to make sure we were heading in the right direction. We walked on expecting to approach the hotel any minute.
Finally at about 9 am Kara and I stepped into a hotel to ask how far Mbweni Ruins was. They told us we were on the right road, and to turn right at the police station, but it was a bit far, and are you sure you don’t want to take a taxi? We still had plenty of time so we continued walking on our way. After a few minutes we asked some more people how far away the police station was. Kind of far, you should take a daladala. At this point we thought maybe we should take the advice. So we waited for a daladala but when none showed up after a few minutes we got impatient and started running instead. At this point we realized that time was running out, but no daladalas or taxis passed us. We ran and ran and finally, after asking a traffic cop, saw the police station in the distance. We kept running, and how Kara was pulling ahead of me as I was sick, carrying out bag and wearing new sandals that were giving me blisters. We turned right and followed the signs hoping the hotel was nearby, but could tell we were still quite a ways from the ocean. Time was running out. Just as 9:30 approached we found ourselves at a Y in the road with no sign pointing to the hotel. A Tanzanian on his bike had no idea where the Mbweni Ruins hotel was. We guessed a left turn and a few minutes later stumbled through the gate of the hotel, out of breath and drenched in sweat.
Luckily Tanzanians aren’t the most punctual and since there were only eight guests heading out to Chumbe, the boat hadn’t left without us. We found out later that Mbweni Ruins hotel was 8 km outside of Stone Town. Kara and I need to work on our map reading skills!
Approaching Chumbe Island was like entering a whole new world. The responsibility and stress of traveling in Tanzania was lifted off my shoulders, and I knew for the day at least Kara and I would be completely taken care of.
Chumbe Island is basically an exposed coral formation surrounded by a beautiful living coral reef. On the island is a surprisingly lush coral rag forest considering how little fresh water and soil the island has.
The eight day guests, which besides Kara and me included a group of 4 Americans in their late 20s and a middle ages couple from Europe who lived on Zanzibar, were welcomed to the main lodge and offered fresh juice as we were introduced to Chumbe Island and the schedule of activities. Even though we were only day guests, we were shown to our private bungalow. It was beautiful. The architecture of the buildings is one of my favorite aspects of Chumbe Island.
All of the buildings are designed to be as self-sufficient as possible. Each bungalow collects rain water from the thatch roof, filters it through a slow sand filter, and stores it in a tank below the hut. In order to use the faucet or the shower you hand pump the water from the lower tank into a smaller upper tank. The water is heated by the sun through a solar thermal water heater. The toilets are composting toilets, thus not using any water. A cute basket full of dirt is provided because you have to dump a shovel-full down after every use. There was a small fan and a few light bulbs in the hut powered by photovoltaics. Our bungalow felt kind of like the Swiss Family Robinson tree house.
After checking out our hut, we set out to do some snorkeling. Our guide was from Idaho! (First, why was he from so far away? Second, what does anyone from Idaho know about snorkeling?)
The coral reef off the island is amazing. The water wasn’t as clear as I remember from snorkeling in Hawaii, but the coral formations were spectacular and we saw more different types of fish in one small area than I recall seeing in Hawaii. My favorite fish are the parrotfish and this small blue fish we saw with a long snout that had fins that looked just like butterfly wings. We also saw a beautiful sea turtle up close and could hear humpback whales singing in the distance.
After snorkeling we had few minutes to lie on the beach before lunch. Lunch was a delicious curry dish served with tuna. Each party had their own private table overlooking the ocean. As we ate and peered out we noticed some splashing in the distance, and distinctly saw a whale tail emerge from the water. Everyone jumped up out of their seats to get a better view of the humpback whales spouting and splashing in the distance; incredible.
In the afternoon we had some time to explore the island, test out the many swinging chairs overlooking the ocean and swim a little before taking a guided nature walk. Just before leaving we climbed the creaky old wooden stairs to the top of a 30 m high lighthouse built over 100 years ago. We looked out over the island, the ocean and could glimpse the main island of Zanzibar.
Our day on Chumbe Island was over all too quickly, but it was well worth it. On the boat ride back to Stone Town we met the new manager of Chumbe who is an American woman and a former Peace Corps volunteer.
Nothing could top Chumbe Island, but our next two days on Zanzibar were also fun. We did a spice tour by bicycle. Zanzibar used to be a wealthy island due to the slave trade as well as the spices grown there; particularly cloves. At the time of Zanzibar independence the spice plantations were taken away from the Arabs and handed over to Tanzanians. The spice industry on Zanzibar has never recovered.
Kara and I had a private tour with a guide who led us on our bikes over some pretty tough terrain to the Hakuna Matata Spice Plantation. It certainly wasn’t what we expected. When I think of a plantation I imagine wide open spaces, and maybe a big plantation house. The Hakuna Matata Spice Plantation had no plantation house in site and was hidden in the middle of a palm tree forest. It was clearly only a tourist trap, rather than a productive plantation, but our guide was really knowledgeable and we got to see, taste and learn about many different spices and fruits. They also turned Kara and me into ‘Spice Princesses’ by making us wear crowns, and jewelry made from flowers and palm fronds. I don’t know who thought it was a smart business move to make the tourists look as ridiculous as possible.
Also on our tour we saw the ruins of the castles and huge bath house of past sultans. Later that afternoon Kara and I roamed around Stone Town and came across another historic bath house. They are really neat with all their different rooms. The steam room, cold bath, hot bath, stalls for shaving.
By far our best experience in Stone Town was the evening street food market at Forodhani Gardens. We entered the park just as the sun was setting over the ocean. As the light fades, street vendors emerge and set up their barbeques and tables of seafood. We started off the evening with some sugar cane juice, then went in for some naan and a few shish kabobs of seafood including tuna and octopus. Then tried the famous Zanzibar pizza, which is kind of like a flat egg roll. Then we washed it all down with another glass of sugar cane juice.
On our last morning on Zanzibar before catching the evening ferry we wanted to see the Jozani Forest and the rare Colobus Monkeys. The only modes of transportation to the forest are taxis of daladala. We thought we were in luck when the conductor of the first daladala we came across said it was heading to Jozani. He might have told us that they would be circling back and forth around town for an hour first. (Urggh, transportation in Tanzania)
There weren’t many visitors and Jozani. The rangers sitting around looked as if the didn’t want there to be any visitors. The main attraction of Jozani forest is the endangered Colobus Monkey. They are most likely to be spotted near the road, so many tourists don’t bother to actually enter the park and pay the park fee.
I wish we could have explored the forest on our own, but it was obligatory to have a guide. There are also no maps of the park so you are really at the mercy of your guide. Our guide, a young Tanzanian man, first took us to the main road and showed us the monkeys. Then we went on a short hike through the beautiful, lush forest. He proceeded to tell us that because I lived in Tanzania and he liked us particularly he would give us the special opportunity to see a mangrove pool nearby. We got on some rickety bikes and headed out to the ‘secret’ mangrove pool that had a beautifully constructed boardwalk and where we met a bunch of other tourists. At the end of the tour our guide wanted a tip so I gave him a couple thousand shillings. He obviously wasn’t pleased, and left Kara and I in the dust as we pedaled back to the Ranger station. We were hoping to eat lunch at the café at the Ranger Station, but it was closed. Jozani forest was absolutely beautiful and the mangrove pool was very impressive, but unfortunately the transportation, guides and lack of amenities seemed to repel tourists rather than attract them.
We happened to leave Jozani Forest on the same daladala we had come in on. Luckily it headed pretty much straight into town this time. We had just enough time before catching our ferry to have lunch at a nice restaurant called the Monsoon. It is a really cute place where everyone has to take their shoes off before entering and we all sat on cushions of the floor as we ate. It was a good relaxing place to spend our last meal on Zanzibar. We weren’t sure if we would have enough time to order before catching our ferry and we were a little skeptical when the waitress said our food would be ready in 20 minutes, since Tanzanians tend to tell you what they think you want to hear, but surprisingly it was ready in less than 20 minutes and we ate in leisure. The Monsoon appeared to be run by a European woman. It is a pity that most of the successful businesses and attractions in Tanzania are managed by foreigners.
After lunch we caught our ferry back to Dar, caught a cab, and then Kara caught her flight home that night. I headed to the bus station the next morning at 5 am to catch a bus back to Songea. I arrived in Songea almost exactly the same time that Kara arrived in Seattle. Gotta love transportation in Tanzania!
Lunch break on the first peak. 
Mesmirized by the sound of water
Making breakfast on my jiko
Hanging laundry out to dry in my yard
My back yard
Women of Songea carrying baskets on their heads
The audience of girls watching Kara get her hair braided
Chumbe Island
Zanzibar
Wandering through Stone Town
Kara is a Spice Princess
Ruins on Zanzibar
Sunset at Forodhani Gardens
Colobus Monkey at Jozani Forest
Mangrove Pool
