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Chris with Maasai Children
Part of one of the set of four After getting in from the safari, we were happy to find a bed, a bar and a shower. We decided to give another hostel in Arusha a shot, only to find it wasn't as nice as our original choice, the Meru House Inn. However, there was a more lively group of fellow travellers, including Brian, Heather and Cory from Canada and Nicholas from Belgium. Since we'd all returned that day, everybody sacked out early.
Given that the next day was Sunday, that we had nothing planned, and that we slept away the morning, there wasn't much to accomplish. Unfortunately, Arusha isn't a town that enchants you with its charm or beauty. As with most African towns, it's utilitarian, and features the strong recommendation that you don't go out after dark. We were able to set up some plans, do a bit of shopping, and wander around town. Then we spent another early evening in the hostel.
Monday morning, we headed out for day trip to a Maasai village. About 35 km north of Arusha, Oldonyo Sambu is a traditional enclave nestled in the foothills. A year ago they started a
cultural tourism program , mostly to bring needed money into their community
Maasai Women
Coming home with the laundry for the school. Our guide Thomas met us at the tourist office in Arusha, and we hopped into the first of two buses to begin our journey of some two hours. The local "buses" in Africa are really minibuses, packed to the brim with people. They'll literally fit more than 25 people in at a time, with the rows packed, and people jammed into any empty space. Never in the history of the system has anybody been turned away for lack of room.
When we arrived, we were brought around the village, seeing the bomas (houses), the fields, and sites of interest, including the fig tree where they sacrifice a black sheep every October to bring the rains. Unfortunately, the healer was occupied with a wedding, so we couldn't find out our futures. We felt loved by all the children smiling and waving to us, until we realized they were hoping we, like other tourists, had brought candy. And we were able to meet and see many of the locals, from the wives tending the children to the Maasai warriors.
While it was interesting to see an entirely different culture, our experience left us pondering where the line
Where's the Beef?
Justin and Thomas inside the Meatcave lies between saving a threatened culture and the necessary extinction of outdated ideas. We visited the enclave of one Maasai man who had four wives, each with a gaggle of children. While it is tradition for the Maasai to practice polygamy, this leaves them with families they can't possibly support. Several of the children were bronchial, with flies stuck in the mucus running from their noses. In another example, Thomas explained the ceremony he had to go through to achieve manhood, and thus be free to marry. Around 18 years old, the young men are brought into the woods. There they stay isolated for a year in the meatcave - where they do nothing but eat meat (while everybody in the village goes without), and are eventually taught the ways of war. Then they are asked if they are strong, and when they concur, are sent in a group of ten to kill a lion. When that's accomplished, they have a huge ceremony where seven bulls are killed, and are then men. Of Thomas' group, seven of the ten survived.
We had planned on leaving that night to go to Moshi, a small town at the foot of Mt.
Da Bears
Inside a local bus in Tanzania Kilimanjaro. However, by the time we got to the bus station, it was nearing dusk. The madhouse that descended upon us, pushing and pulling, combined with the strong recommendation of our guide, caused us to decide to stay in Arusha one more night, and go straight to Dar Es Salaam the next day, a ride of 9 hours. After which, we boarded the 2 hour ferry to Zanzibar.
A small island off the coast of Tanzania with a strong history of spice and slave trading, Zanzibar is now known as a vacation destination. We spent the first night in Stone Town, the atmospheric old town, with winding roads and classic buildings. The next day, we headed out to Kendwa, a beach on the north of the island. There's nothing more boring than hearing about someone else's beach vacation (although hearing about someone's around-the-world trip may sometimes come close) - suffice to say, we frolicked, we drank, we ate seafood, we watched sunsets, we walked the sand, we read, we napped. We even tried to snorkel, although rough seas and a rain storm quickly drove us back to our hammock.
One of the mysteries about Africa is the cost.
Fresh Meat
Touts wait for the boat to arrive in Zanzibar The people are as poor here as we've seen on the trip, with ramshackle buildings and a distinct lack of daily necessities. However, the prices to travel in Tanzania are closer to Australia than Thailand. Take Zanzibar - it was 5-10 times as expensive a Ko PhaNgan and 2-3 times as expensive as the Red Sea in Egypt. While it isn't exorbanent, the discrepincy between places of similiar wealth begs the question - where is the money going?
Another note - Zanzibar may be part of Tanzania on the map, but that doesn't mean they're happy about it, or that it's purely by choice. We were told by more than one person that the majority of Zanzibarians (?) despised the union, but to speak such an opinion publicly would cause problems with the authorities, up to the point of being disappeared. One guy we were talking to asked "Where did you hear that" when we asked about disgruntled locals, and would only comment cryptically afterwards. But when Zanzibarites (?) complain about "foreigners" taking their jobs, they aren't talking about Canadians.
We spent one more night in Stonetown, having a great meal of Swahili food at
Monsoon . African food,
Zanzibar
Justin loves the sunset shots while edible, isn't normally notable, except for the hour (at least) you wait between ordering and receiving the meal. We'd heard that people had been having problems with food poisoning from the local stalls, and weren't soothed by the hawker telling us that the fish was alright - now. The next day, we took a fast ferry to Dar Es Salaam, which in this area of the world is always accompanied by copious vomiting. We spent the night in a quiet hostel, with a decent meal and a deck of cards.
The next morning, we got up at 5 A.M. for a bus ride that ended up in Nairobi at 9 P.M. Justin wasn't feeling well, and convinced it was at least malaria, if not Ebola, bugged Chris to check his forehead for fever the whole time. We were forced to watch not only Con Air and Congo, but also a Nigarian movie about witches who possessed a family. When they converted to Christianity, they drove the witch in the form of their child from their midst. If you like international cinema, or severe psychic pain, we'd highly recommend
Witches . Oh, yeah, this was all at top volume, with
a temperature of 30 C, and a bathroom that liked to spread its odor throughout. Good times.
Today, we woke up late, ready to go see the Kenyan National Museum, which we'd read was highly recommended. Then we found out it'd been closed for two years, and would reopen "sometime". We were also told there was nothing else to do in Nairobi. Undaunted, we wandered downtown, grabbing some Kenyan coffee and doing some shopping. Nairobi is a very hectic place, although not as scary as the guidebooks would lead you to believe (during the day at least). Although we were stopped by a few conmen, their raps were kind of enjoyable, and we just moved on. Tonight, we went for dinner at
Carnivore . Often included on the list of the world's 50 best restaurants, it was an open air fest of grilled meat, served churascaro style. We got to try crocadile, ostrich and camel (really good), although the promised zebra was missing.
We leave tonight for Cairo, with Europe soon after.
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