Four Months, Four Continents–Back to Africa

We got back to Arusha with no problems (Millie slept the entire flight home!!! And I foolishly stayed awake the whole time on the overnight flight just so I could enjoy TWO movies in peace). As soon as our suitcases were unpacked, I started preparing to pack them up again (along with 14 boxes) for our departure from Tanzania four weeks later.

Its amazing how quickly a change like moving can sneak up on you. Just as you’re going about your day, buying veggies at the Arusha-version of a farmer’s market, annoyed by the ignoramus drivers on the road and the always-out-of-money ATM, and you get call that says “say good bye to all those nice people you have gotten to know the past two years and essentially the only world your daughter has ever known, you’re going to Cambodia.” You’re 10 parts thrilled, 10 parts sad and 20 parts overwhelmed over what will transpire in the coming weeks. This was the case for me.

I felt more than content with all the remarkable people we’d met in Arusha who’s paths had fortunately intersected with ours. I loved that I was able to climb Mt. Meru after having it stare me down on a daily basis as I went about my business. I felt gratified that what was a leap of faith for our new family turned into such a professionally and personally gratifying experience. I felt triumphant that I had simultaneously stumbled through new motherhood while also navigating life on a new continent. I felt satiated by having seen so many animals in the wild and gorgeous countryside. And lest I forget, it was a blessing beyond words to have so much help at home.

But I can’t deny that at times I found life in Arusha to be annoying and that I longed for one of those Staples "Easy" buttons to push. And during those difficult times, I longed for the simplicity and intuitiveness of America. Why couldn't the store just have the things I needed when I needed them? Why did "maybe next week" really mean, "I have no idea" and that they didn't just say that in the first place?  While hiking in the Grand Canyon (during our recent home leave), Roger asked me ‘what do you love about America so much?’ I told him it boiled down to, when I’m here, I feel powerful.  Everything makes sense, I know my way around, I speak the language and I know the written and unwritten rules.  In Tanzania, it was the opposite.  Naturally, it was unrealistic of me to expect to feel as comfy in Tanzania after two years as I do after thirty odd years in my native America.  But I guess as you get older (esp when toting around a little one), being able to predict  and deftly navigate your surroundings becomes as essential to you as your daily venti latte.

In the midst of a major transition for our family, I feel compelled to wax philosophical about the expat lifestyle and longing for home.  But no matter how I dissected it, I continually reached the same conclusion – no matter where you are, the grass is always greener in other pastures.  I will appreciate all that Arusha had, and that I surely took for granted, once I am sweating buckets in Phnom Penh.  And undoubtedly I will wish for an Easy button while we’re there as well.

Walking safari in Great Rift Valley, with our Colorado friends

Our last month in Arusha was a roller coaster.  We got out to the bush one more time (for Mother’s Day) and we had good times with the good people we’d been fortunate to meet.  We even sent ourselves off in true Tanzanian style with a whole roasted goat at our farewell party (which I think gave many children nightmares)! But there were a lot of difficult goodbye’s and a lot of packing.   I started seeing Arusha in a different and more positive light.  I understood why people relocated there for good, opting to raise their families surrounded by the bush and slower pace of life.

The farewell goat!

Other philosophical sentiments that moving ignites is regret and living simply.  Why is it that in the day-to-day course of straightening up I can look at a heart-shaped coin purse and think “this may come in handy one day, better save it” but then toss it in the giveaway/trash pile the moment we decide to move? How do I get my brain hard wired to critically examine every trinket and tchotchke at the moment of confrontation and either put it to use or make it someone else’s treasure? You’d think a lifestyle based on relocating every two years would have given me some skills in this department, but sadly, no.  Nevertheless, even three hours before the taxi picked us up, I was unloading a suitcase full of STUFF on the staff.

And lest we forget our good pal, regret: Wishing I had made it to Serengeti.  Wishing I’d explored more of our corner of the continent.  Wishing I’d been more adventurous and less nervous.  Wishing I’d mastered Swahili and engaged more in local life.  Of course, it just always felt as though there would be time for those things once I [enter every excuse in the book].  I suppose moving every few years like this should drive home the prescient wisdom of just doing it.

Farewell Arusha (yes, 6 weeks later)! Thank you for welcoming us, being such a wonderful home for our new family and creating so many friendships.  Tutuonana badaye (see each other again)!

From the month of April until the very first day of July, Millie and I will have had our feet on four different continents in as many months.  We start in Europe, return to Africa, pop over to North America and then eventually land in Asia.
 
 

Does KFC Deliver to Tanzania?

A very Happy Thanksgiving our turkey brethren!  Anyone in a food coma yet?  As of the writing of this post, we haven't had any coma's 'round here, but that could all change come 5 o'clock today (9am EST) when we go to a friend of a friends house for some delicious grub.  Luckily for our host, the dinner is being catered otherwise she might very well loose her mind with all the freaking power cuts we're having these days!

We are planning our own little Tanzgiving on Sunday once my dad and his friend Lynn arrive in Arusha.  Two days ago Roger and I watched Julie & Julia and I got inspired to clog my arteries make Julia Child's roast chicken for Tanzgiving, so I planned a menu accordingly.  It involved Moroccan Carrots, mashed potatoes, broccoli with bacon, FRESH cranberry sauce, rolls and apple crisp.  Unfortunately, Arusha had another menu in mind.

It all began Weds actually when I went the butcher shop, Meat King, that advertised fresh cranberry sauce imported from who knows where (kind of cancels out the "fresh" part, I realize) and they confessed that someone forgot to put the cranberry sauce on the boat.  That was followed up by two nights in a row of 12 hr power cuts.  Then once power was restored, as well as my thankful and sane heart, the Tanzanian National Electric Company decided to toy with my emotions by sporadically turning the power on and off for five hours.  It is a sheer miracle of the heavens that I managed to get a Spiced Applesauce Cake made for our party tonight.

The outcome of all this (including a delicious looking apple cake that was aided by turning off all power sockets in the house except for the oven so the generator could git 'er done) was shoving our 2 kilo bird into the freezer and putting Khan's Chicken on my speed dial because, my friends, we are getting take out!

I realize I have a slight flair for the dramatic [mother and Roger stifle a laugh], but that's why you visit It's Kili Time, right?  I just hope you also know that all dramatizations recounted here are all made possible by the many wonderful things in my life for which I am DEEPLY appreciative, in particular my health, family, well being, red patent leather flats and the opportunity to connect with you via this platform.

When expressing your thanks today, do so while running all high voltage appliances, just because you can.  A very Happy Electrifying Thanksgiving to all!

Jokes on Me, I Guess

After my little self-obsessed rant about the dust and lack of rain what should happen but we run out of water in the house!  This time last year, the rain had been coming down for well over a month which was quite a welcome relief since the prior year (2008) had been a major drought for the country.  The harvest was ample last year!  And so we never ran into problems with water at the house.  But this year, with the delay in rains, the city is rationing the water and yesterday it caught up with us.

When I lived in Honduras (and Roger in Togo - which he'd claim was WAY more hard core than Honduras*) rationing water was the norm in the towns we lived in.  Water was limited so, in the case of my town, we had water in the taps usually every day for four hours.  The house I lived in had two pilas (concrete open-air tanks) that held about 500 gallons each approximately.  One for bathing and the other for household uses.  From time to time, the frequency of the water fluctuated and we'd (I lived with a family of 6) go maybe 4 days without any water coming into the tap.  We'd get through what we had in the pilas and when that was gone, we headed to the river about 200ft away.  Quite frankly, it wasn't all that bad (saying this 10 years later).  Inconvenient yes, but adaptable.

During those times of shortages, the locals woulds ask "is it like this in America?  do you have water shortages there?" And I would have to think about it especially since I didn't directly rely on rainfall for my livelihood.  I think I usually answered "not really" because I didn't want to explain to them that when we were rationing water in America it meant I couldn't water my green lush grass 7x/week, but rather only 4x/week.  Or that I could only wash my car (which probably wasn't covered in dust) 1x/week, instead of daily.  Or that it still entitled me to fill my swimming pool and take long showers.

Being in Tanzania, I often remarked (silently, in my head) that it was amazing how we really didn't suffer from water shortages.  I wondered if Arusha was unique because it sits at the base of a nearly 15,000 foot mountain that frequently has cloud cover and, as of late, is snow-capped?  Or that maybe because of all the foreigners living here and the expectation of a resilient system that somehow we didn't suffer?  I guess my fool-proof plan of keeping those thoughts silent didn't really dupe the Arusha Municipal Water Supply.

To be sure, with little to no water in the taps at the moment we're not suffering.  Yeah, the dishes are building up in the sink, the plants haven't been watered and the possibility of no shower today is just the off-the-hook I needed to set aside that workout DVD, but we have about seventy liters of bottled water in the house and numerous friends that have put out the welcome bath mat for us.  Rather, I share this just as a public way of acknowledging our great fortune.  I mean, seriously seventy liters of bottled water, some of which I will use to wash my daughters grubby hands and last night's dishes! 

Since my last post about dust and as I typed this, I got the idea that I shouldn't just portray the little annoyances and inconveniences here.  That would be doing a disservice to my privilege and this platform.  I should also being sharing with you what's remarkable and admirable about where we live.  I only have to have our security guard open our large metal gate to be reminded of this!  Afterall, Kili Time isn't just dust, bad driving and uncomfortable notions of personal space.  It's also kanga, wild animals, Massai, al fresco dining, amazing Indian food and so much more!  So, stay tuned!

*When Roger & I met, at a dimly lit bar in Georgetown, and he told me he was in Togo, you know, AFRICA, for Peace Corps, I willingly volunteered that it was probably way more hard core than cushy Honduras, what with our Caribbean coastline and 2 hr flight to Miami.  He reminds me of this every time he buttons up his Banana Republic suit and heads off to work while I recline on the day bed ;).

 Image courtesy of Reallynatural.com