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Published: September 27th 2007
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Airplane Safari Group
From left: Jan, Claudia, Emma, some random guy. As the weekdays settle into a routine of physics, physics and a little chemistry, my past two weekends have provided plenty of adventure. So I'll spare you the school-related drama, or mostly lack there-of, and skip right to the more interesting happenings.
A few weeks ago now I replied to an e-mail from our IT administrator asking if anyone wanted to go on a quick morning jaunt with him. Early Saturday morning (which is often an oxymoron for me) I met him and two other teachers as we drove over to the domestic airport, climbed into his personal aircraft, and took off for an exploration of Tanzania from the sky. Flying over Dar was a little depressing of course as we passed the Masaki Peninsula (where most of the ex-pat life takes place) in about 10 seconds and spent the next few minutes flying over effectively a sprawling metropolis of small shacks miles wide. But before we could really take it all in, Dar passed us by and we were flying over bush, empty, vast, empty bush. Coming from Taiwan, this much empty space is surprising and a little refreshing! After about an hour-long flight over some beautiful landscapes
Selous from Above
An aerial view of Selous National Park. we reached Mikumi National Park, the site of our safari at the beginning of this whole adventure. From the sky you could pick out a few herds of elephants and wildebeests, and as we came in for a landing we skirted over zebras, hippos, and impala. Now, if we had exited the plane in Mikumi we would be subject to the often-exorbitant park fees, so we simply circled down the (dirt) runway and took off again. Half an hour later we reached Selous National Park, home of the only river safaris that I know of in Tanzania. The enormous, winding Rufiji River is home to hundreds of hippos, and the river banks beckon all sorts of game. As we landed on the strip in Selous a curious giraffe less than 40m from us paused from its lunch to watch, then went right back to eating. After a quick bathroom break and turn-around, we flew back to Dar and landed in time for lunch. Not a bad way to spend a Saturday morning!
The following Wednesday afternoon another teacher and I were whisked from school to the airport where we departed for our MYP (International Baccalaureate middle school system
Mumbai Through the Smog
Mumbai through the smog from Juhu Beach. called Middle Years Program) training in Mumbai, India. A quick geography update, India is reverting cities back to their names before the British imperialism, so Mumbai is the city most of us know as Bombay. A 5.5 hour flight later we landed in the Dubai airport where we uncomfortably spent the night before heading off to Mumbai at 4 a.m. Our first day there was reasonably uneventful, consisting for me mostly of a nap and wandering the city's streets. The first few things to strike me about Mumbai was how in-your-face the poverty is. No matter where in the city you are, it seems that you are constantly within a stone's throw of extremely poor shanty-towns. The following day was the start of the conference followed by a reception downtown. I won't bore you with too many details about the conference, but the science MYP workshop had some very interesting people mostly from Asia, and was led by a bizarre Indian ex-fashion designer. We were bussed to the reception at a hotel in Worli, about half way downtown from where we were all staying. After the fine but eventless reception it took us two-and-half hours to drive the maybe 10km
The Streets of Mumbai
A random Mumbai street with the ever-present auto-rickshaw. back up to where we were staying! Needless to say I sadly never made it all the way downtown to see the Gateway of India, Chowpatty Beach, and the real Bombay. I guess that means I'll just have to go back... So on the drive back I entertained myself by reading the really bizarre street and shop signs, including:
"Your family loves you, drive safely."
"One partner, one life. An AIDS-free Mumbai is possible." With a weird representation of fallopian tubes on the side.
"Hospital ceilings are boring. Drive safely."
"Dr. Goud's Gynrecological Hospital" written on the side of a seedy-looking building.
The following night was the night several of us designated as the night to go out-and-about in Mumbai. Several science teachers (myself, Barry from Phuket, Danny from Bali, and Fiona from Tokyo) and some non-science tag-alongs (Fiona's friend Mel, and Danny's friend Matt) met at the local Indian Irish bar for a quick drink as the Brits wanted to watch a little rugby. I suppose the Indians do Irish about as well as anyone who's not Irish, but it still was surreal sitting drinking Guinness surrounded by high-class Bollywood and Indian shisha pipes. From
The Indian Irish Pub Group
Me, Danny, Matt, Barry, and Fiona. there we moved on to a bar we had only heard the most exciting raves about, Zenzi. Not only did it turn out to be extraordinarily mediocre, but a few other teachers that were ordering cocktails ended up paying 250 US dollars for 6 drinks! Thankfully we shot out of there quickly and moved on to the only other place nearby which we had heard about, which was a dance club called Poison. And it rocked. We were quite possibly the only Caucasians in the packed bar. At one point the DJ announced Bollywood songs, which turned out to be Indian music put to a hip-hop beat. Very strange, but very fun. Of course getting home at 3a.m. made the next-day conference a little difficult, but we all survived and were actually very productive (relatively). That night I met some of the same teachers for a low-key dinner. We met at their hotel and took two auto-rickshaws to a recommended part of town. As we neared our target the traffic got worse and worse. Soon we realized we were headed into the heart of the ongoing Ganesh festival, a time when the high Indian god enters people's houses and bestows
Poison
Fiona and I and Poison. blessings on them for the coming year. Some time during the 10-day festival each family carries a Ganesh icon to the seaside and floats him out, inviting him to return the following year. Well, the area the hotel had recommended for dinner was a very popular beach area, a hot-spot for families floating out their Ganesh icons. About 5 minutes from where we were going to be dropped off, we lost track of the other auto-rickshaw as it disappeared into a seething mass of cars and people. After about 20 minutes of searching for our two lost friends, Mel and I wandered down to the ocean to see a bit of the festival. Tons of food stalls were set up as families from grandparent to grandchild carried Ganesh idols and chanted. A sacred cow chomped down on some of the trash while a man's trained monkey danced and jumped nearby. A bit overwhelmed after a long weekend we retired to a quiet restaurant for dinner and headed back. As my flight was at 4a.m. I had to stay up all night, and again sleep a bit in the Dubai airport. But overall it was a reasonably successful trip and first
Ganesh Procession
A family's Ganesh procession to the sea. India experience, I met some very interesting people, explored Mumbai a little, and learned a good bit, all in a weekend.
Finally this brings us to last weekend, which I will dabble a little bit in, but I cannot share much of. Not because it was uneventful, but because it falls under the so-called "cone of silence". Once a year a few guys at the school organize a boys-only weekend trip to Zanzibar, nicknamed Manzibar. Last Friday afternoon we all skedaddled straight from school again to catch a chartered flight to the famous island. The weekend consisted of laying on the beach, taking a sunset cruise, lots of drinking, male antics, and more drinking. There were a few rules I can share however. For instance, if you mentioned school or a female back on the mainland, it was a Konyagi offense, which meant drinking a "sachet" of Konyagi. Konyagi is the local liquor which tastes more or less like rice wine to me, which is not a compliment. But the sachets are brilliant. Imagine the ketchup packets from a fast food restaurant, but filled with mediocre, local Tanzanian liquor, and you have Konyagi sachets. From Gallic volleyball to stage diving to beer-filled dhow sunset cruises on "Captain Ali's" boat to stage-diving off bars it was a grand old time and a great opportunity to get to know some of the guys a little better.
So after quite a few full-on weekends, I am looking forward to this next one. There is nothing going on, nothing I need to do (except catch up on a bit of work). It should be my weekend away from my weekends...
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My Hero
You are still my teacher hero. What next, music added like"Where the hell is Matt.com?" I love this...travel blog...keep it up!