Thursday, June 07, 2007
Hanang
Travel was bumpy, and Mirjam and I bounced around in the rear of the Land Cruiser on the sideways facing, firm benches with no belts. I kept thinking of how sore and tired I would be, even before the hike from trying to keep balanced as we scooted along. If nothing else this ride would prepare me for my return to Canada and the mechanical bulls that may be found in the odd country bar. If not for the amazing scenery the ride would have been very difficult.
We drove down the hill to Bsoto, a village that should be on the banks of lake Bsoto, but it is now mostly part of the lake itself. This year, as in 1998, the town was flooded and much of the town is still below the surface of the lake. The town’s main road runs directly into the water and we went as far as we could toward the new shore and took some pictures of children filling water jugs and men loading bricks from a pile brought across and dumped by a boat. It was depressing to see a man testing the water by taking a large gulp and then proclaiming to the child filling the jugs that the water was fine. All of the med-students in the Cruiser were quietly screaming, “NO!!” This area has scene a rise in typhoid fever and possibly cholera rates due to the flood. The water is not safe, but the residents are not aware of the dangers and consume it, to their peril. In Katesh I saw a child scooping water from a mud puddle into a water jug, presumably to take home to his family as a drink with dinner. Sad but true.
As we left the center of Bsoto the mood lightened and the scenery included the colourful locals, birds and the beautiful fauna that Africa is famous for. I was surprised to see pelicans resting on the water waiting for a school to pass. Just off the shore in the shallow water herons were stalking their prey along with an amazing stork and other birds that we could not identify. Perched on a branch of a picturesque Acacia tree was a Fisher Eagle who was carefully watching the water for signs of a late afternoon snack. We carried along by the lake for half an hour or so and then bounced onto a low plain.
The low plain was more like what one would associate with Africa; dry rolling grassland with the odd group of Acacia breaking up the landscape. Many of the Acacia stands signified a home. There were generally a few mud buildings with grass roof and a hedge of thorny plants for protection. In a more heavily populated area we passed a hoteli (restaurant) that was made up of a tree with a low canopy and a tarp on the windward side as the structure. Underneath this makeshift structure were a few benches and a ceramic barbeque. We did not have the time or the stomach to stop and test the cuisine and carried on toward Katesh and the ever increasingly amazing views of Mount Hanang.
The road climbed steadily out of the valley as we began to round the mountain. Katesh was getting closer all the time and the number of people on the road, as well as the number of houses increased as we went. At the first sight of cement structures we came up a rise and found a tractor-trailer on its side in the ditch. It looked like a major accident and I could almost taste adrenaline flowing in the vehicle full of med students as they anticipated the potential to use their skills. However, all was well and as we spoke to the group of guys hanging around watching the oil leak from the engine we found that the driver had simply lost the steering. The truck seemed to have eased into the ditch just as the driver was gaining a burst of speed to ascend the final rise before entering Katesh. The driver then came forward to indicate that he was fine, other than being a little down about his predicament. We gave our pole’s (sorry’s) and pushed on up the hill to town.
Katesh is a larger town that Haydom with many more streets that seem a bit more orderly than we have. We drove down the main road looking for the Colt Guesty where we had booked a room and where two friends of the Dutch med students were already resting and waiting for us. We made our way to the center of town and the large dirt square that is the bus stop for the regional and national bus lines. A friendly local guy gave us directions and we found the guesty very quickly. The guest house (Guesty) had a large steel gate with a rather nice painting of a young horse. There is a door opening in the gate and beyond that is, what I would call a roofless garage with another large steel gate at its far end. The door in this gate lead to another larger garage, that had the doors to the guest rooms opening off of it. We were able to get our Cruiser into the first garage and gathered in the larger garage and met the Dutch med students who have been working in the south of Tanzania near Malawi. They were very nice and showed us their Land Rover and discussed their travels. We then sorted out the rooms, pretty much filling the place and decided that dinner was the next priority. Everyone got a bit cleaned up and stashed our bags in our rooms and we were ready to go. That is when the rain began; it rained very hard and we almost gave up on dinner but the rain subsided after about 20 minutes.
Adam knew the good place to eat and we all set off hoping that the joint had a roof. We went a couple of blocks in the near darkness and found the Hoteli on the corner a few blocks down. It was a fairly nice place and we were set up with a few tables in what would have been a garage at the Colt Guesty but with a solid roof. We ordered a round of sodas and beer for the nine of us and also picked up a tenth in the form a friendly Tanzanian man that was on his way to Arusha. We had some nice conversation about life in Haydom, life in our respective countries and the day ahead. We were all getting close to the bottom of our bottles when a local man approached on a b-line toward me with his hand outstretched. As he came into the light of the room my mind swam to place him as I had seen him before. “I know you.” I said, “where did we meet.” As I got these words out I remembered that he was the reporter that I had spoken to in Haydom during the Dr. Olsen memorial celebration. We talked for a while about what we were all up to and he said he would like to buy us another round of drinks. The one thing that became evident was that it is cross-cultural to accept a round of drinks from a near stranger. We were happy to accept his offer and we all smiled as we sipped our fresh cold drinks.
Our meal came shortly but was a little mixed up, as is usually the case when one person changes their mind or orders off the menu. One of our friends hadn’t wanted Chipsi Mayai (French fry Omelet) nor did he want Kuku na Mchele (Chicken with Rice), he was being difficult by ordering Kuku na Chipsi Mayai (you get that by now). When the orders came he received Chipsi and no Kuku, which he refused and took a Chipsi Mayai and I got nothing. Being polite, as I am, and at the far end of the table, I offered all the Chipsi Mayai to the others who had ordered it thinking mine would be there shortly. It turned out that this little mix up had really messed up the Kitchen and they had to retrieve some more Mayai from the nearest Kuku. When I was finally able to dig into my chips and eggs I was delighted with the flavour as it is a change from the ordinary. However, after almost finishing 2, 500ml bottles of beer on an empty stomach, Chipsi na mud puddle may have tasted fine.
We were nearly finished our dinners and the second round of drinks when my reporter friend reappeared out of nowhere and grabbed my shoulders as he addressed the group. He was interested in where we were all from and how we were enjoying his country. When we had gone around the table he seemed very happy to have met us all and said that he was buying our dinners as well. This was a very nice gesture and we of course accepted his hospitality. He explained that he appreciated us being in Tanzania and wanted to express this appreciation with his offer. In the end we had to only pay for Adam’s meal and that of our Tanzanian friend on his way to Arusha and our first round of drinks. The two dinners came to 4000 Shillings and the drinks were 5800, a total of under $10 Canadian. Split that 8 ways (I don’t include Adam in that because we were paying his way) and the evening cost us about $1.25 each.
We all went to the next little dinning room and spoke some more to the reporter before heading out in smaller groups back to the guesty. The streets were saturated and dotted with puddles that were not visible until the reflection of the moon hit them a moment before my boot. But we made it back, down the darken street and through the two iron gates into the second garage and our rooms. My room was a double and I shared with Douwe (Da Wa) our Dutch Med student friend. The room had a worn lino floor, a single small window, two single beds with fairly decent mosquito nets, two small tables and a solid wooden door. The toilet and shower were out at the end of the garage; there were two toilets and one shower room. The sink, which actually had hot running water, was under a small overhang outside the facilities. We all gathered with toothbrush in one hand and bottle of potable water in the other. After making my teeth sparkly clean and rinsing my brush with water from Kilimangaro (well that’s the brand at least) I went to use the toilet. It turned out that this would be my first time using a toilet that was recessed into the floor. It was rather strange though I understand that it is more sanitary than what I would call a traditional toilet. The one thing that was a little off putting was the lack of a lock on the door. This was not an issue at this point but in the morning someone did walk in while I was…busy. Hamna shida, that’s one of the benefits of being a man; using the facilities with ones back to the door.
We had decided that we should not be too tired when we started our climb so we set our breakfast reservation for 7:30 and hit the sack. Because I forgot my book at home I wrote a few pages in my journal and went to sleep. The bed was soft but the covers were moist from the humidity of the recent heavy rains and I slept well under only the dry bedspread. In the morning we woke to an overcast sky and decided that we would give it a go, settle our guesty bill and walk over for breakfast. Settling the bill was a bit of a nightmare as we each seem to carry no small bills and the proprietor was having difficulty adding. We ended up paying 32,000 shillings and went on our way. Of course my business brain could not come to terms with such an amount not only was it small, but it was wrong. As we walked I added, and came to 28,000. So I returned to the guesty, made my argument to the proprietor and got back our 4,000 Shillings. As Frances had shelled out the extra, I returned the money to her and we walked on.
We once again dodged puddles but found our table in the other guest house in a private dinning room and settled into a breakfast of tae or coffee and Chipati (large thin pancakes). The conversation at the table was in four languages and mostly about the weather and the climb. We also spoke a lot about pancakes as the Dutch students, with a lack of anything else sprinkled a great deal of sugar on their pancakes. I had to shout at the tired Douwe at one point as he took a heaping spoonful of Africafe (the local instant coffee) and was about to sprinkle it on his last Chipati. He was more than grateful until the whole table began to bug him about it, but it was all in fun and we finished up and asked for the bill. The woman came with her pad of paper and the calculator on her cell phone and added up the cost of tea for 6, coffee for 4 and Chipati for all 10 of us. The entire breakfast came to 5000 Shillings and if you are playing along at home you will no doubt realize that we each owed about $0.50 Canadian. Less then the price of a pack of Wrigley’s gum.
Let’s add it up so far. Each person had spent so far;
Dinner $1.25
Bed $2.00 (give or take a buck for a bathroom in the room)
Breakfast $0.50
Total $3.75
We now mounted up in our two vehicles (the two dutch guys, Douwe and Mirjam in the Land Rover and the rest of us in the Land Cruiser) and sped off to the mountain road. We drove for a few minutes on a fairly smooth (for Tanzania) dirt road then turned North onto an increasingly rugged mountain road. We passed some nice Missionary’s homes with high fences and fresh paint, past dirt Shambas with grass roofs and rickety animal pens, and then it looked as though we were going to drive right into an outbuilding of a leaning mud and stick home. I thought this was the end of the road, with the mountain still a long way off; it would be a long walk. But Adam swerved at the last moment as the track went within two feet of the building as it curved around and went deeper into the lush green forest. The road turned into almost a footpath, not much wider than the Cruiser and we made good use of the leaf spring suspension as we bounded at high speed farther into the woods. The road widened, turned hard to the right and dropped off down to a narrow stream.
Four wheel drive was about to come in handy, at least for our less experienced Dutch Friends in the Rover...
We drove down the hill to Bsoto, a village that should be on the banks of lake Bsoto, but it is now mostly part of the lake itself. This year, as in 1998, the town was flooded and much of the town is still below the surface of the lake. The town’s main road runs directly into the water and we went as far as we could toward the new shore and took some pictures of children filling water jugs and men loading bricks from a pile brought across and dumped by a boat. It was depressing to see a man testing the water by taking a large gulp and then proclaiming to the child filling the jugs that the water was fine. All of the med-students in the Cruiser were quietly screaming, “NO!!” This area has scene a rise in typhoid fever and possibly cholera rates due to the flood. The water is not safe, but the residents are not aware of the dangers and consume it, to their peril. In Katesh I saw a child scooping water from a mud puddle into a water jug, presumably to take home to his family as a drink with dinner. Sad but true.
As we left the center of Bsoto the mood lightened and the scenery included the colourful locals, birds and the beautiful fauna that Africa is famous for. I was surprised to see pelicans resting on the water waiting for a school to pass. Just off the shore in the shallow water herons were stalking their prey along with an amazing stork and other birds that we could not identify. Perched on a branch of a picturesque Acacia tree was a Fisher Eagle who was carefully watching the water for signs of a late afternoon snack. We carried along by the lake for half an hour or so and then bounced onto a low plain.
The low plain was more like what one would associate with Africa; dry rolling grassland with the odd group of Acacia breaking up the landscape. Many of the Acacia stands signified a home. There were generally a few mud buildings with grass roof and a hedge of thorny plants for protection. In a more heavily populated area we passed a hoteli (restaurant) that was made up of a tree with a low canopy and a tarp on the windward side as the structure. Underneath this makeshift structure were a few benches and a ceramic barbeque. We did not have the time or the stomach to stop and test the cuisine and carried on toward Katesh and the ever increasingly amazing views of Mount Hanang.
The road climbed steadily out of the valley as we began to round the mountain. Katesh was getting closer all the time and the number of people on the road, as well as the number of houses increased as we went. At the first sight of cement structures we came up a rise and found a tractor-trailer on its side in the ditch. It looked like a major accident and I could almost taste adrenaline flowing in the vehicle full of med students as they anticipated the potential to use their skills. However, all was well and as we spoke to the group of guys hanging around watching the oil leak from the engine we found that the driver had simply lost the steering. The truck seemed to have eased into the ditch just as the driver was gaining a burst of speed to ascend the final rise before entering Katesh. The driver then came forward to indicate that he was fine, other than being a little down about his predicament. We gave our pole’s (sorry’s) and pushed on up the hill to town.
Katesh is a larger town that Haydom with many more streets that seem a bit more orderly than we have. We drove down the main road looking for the Colt Guesty where we had booked a room and where two friends of the Dutch med students were already resting and waiting for us. We made our way to the center of town and the large dirt square that is the bus stop for the regional and national bus lines. A friendly local guy gave us directions and we found the guesty very quickly. The guest house (Guesty) had a large steel gate with a rather nice painting of a young horse. There is a door opening in the gate and beyond that is, what I would call a roofless garage with another large steel gate at its far end. The door in this gate lead to another larger garage, that had the doors to the guest rooms opening off of it. We were able to get our Cruiser into the first garage and gathered in the larger garage and met the Dutch med students who have been working in the south of Tanzania near Malawi. They were very nice and showed us their Land Rover and discussed their travels. We then sorted out the rooms, pretty much filling the place and decided that dinner was the next priority. Everyone got a bit cleaned up and stashed our bags in our rooms and we were ready to go. That is when the rain began; it rained very hard and we almost gave up on dinner but the rain subsided after about 20 minutes.
Adam knew the good place to eat and we all set off hoping that the joint had a roof. We went a couple of blocks in the near darkness and found the Hoteli on the corner a few blocks down. It was a fairly nice place and we were set up with a few tables in what would have been a garage at the Colt Guesty but with a solid roof. We ordered a round of sodas and beer for the nine of us and also picked up a tenth in the form a friendly Tanzanian man that was on his way to Arusha. We had some nice conversation about life in Haydom, life in our respective countries and the day ahead. We were all getting close to the bottom of our bottles when a local man approached on a b-line toward me with his hand outstretched. As he came into the light of the room my mind swam to place him as I had seen him before. “I know you.” I said, “where did we meet.” As I got these words out I remembered that he was the reporter that I had spoken to in Haydom during the Dr. Olsen memorial celebration. We talked for a while about what we were all up to and he said he would like to buy us another round of drinks. The one thing that became evident was that it is cross-cultural to accept a round of drinks from a near stranger. We were happy to accept his offer and we all smiled as we sipped our fresh cold drinks.
Our meal came shortly but was a little mixed up, as is usually the case when one person changes their mind or orders off the menu. One of our friends hadn’t wanted Chipsi Mayai (French fry Omelet) nor did he want Kuku na Mchele (Chicken with Rice), he was being difficult by ordering Kuku na Chipsi Mayai (you get that by now). When the orders came he received Chipsi and no Kuku, which he refused and took a Chipsi Mayai and I got nothing. Being polite, as I am, and at the far end of the table, I offered all the Chipsi Mayai to the others who had ordered it thinking mine would be there shortly. It turned out that this little mix up had really messed up the Kitchen and they had to retrieve some more Mayai from the nearest Kuku. When I was finally able to dig into my chips and eggs I was delighted with the flavour as it is a change from the ordinary. However, after almost finishing 2, 500ml bottles of beer on an empty stomach, Chipsi na mud puddle may have tasted fine.
We were nearly finished our dinners and the second round of drinks when my reporter friend reappeared out of nowhere and grabbed my shoulders as he addressed the group. He was interested in where we were all from and how we were enjoying his country. When we had gone around the table he seemed very happy to have met us all and said that he was buying our dinners as well. This was a very nice gesture and we of course accepted his hospitality. He explained that he appreciated us being in Tanzania and wanted to express this appreciation with his offer. In the end we had to only pay for Adam’s meal and that of our Tanzanian friend on his way to Arusha and our first round of drinks. The two dinners came to 4000 Shillings and the drinks were 5800, a total of under $10 Canadian. Split that 8 ways (I don’t include Adam in that because we were paying his way) and the evening cost us about $1.25 each.
We all went to the next little dinning room and spoke some more to the reporter before heading out in smaller groups back to the guesty. The streets were saturated and dotted with puddles that were not visible until the reflection of the moon hit them a moment before my boot. But we made it back, down the darken street and through the two iron gates into the second garage and our rooms. My room was a double and I shared with Douwe (Da Wa) our Dutch Med student friend. The room had a worn lino floor, a single small window, two single beds with fairly decent mosquito nets, two small tables and a solid wooden door. The toilet and shower were out at the end of the garage; there were two toilets and one shower room. The sink, which actually had hot running water, was under a small overhang outside the facilities. We all gathered with toothbrush in one hand and bottle of potable water in the other. After making my teeth sparkly clean and rinsing my brush with water from Kilimangaro (well that’s the brand at least) I went to use the toilet. It turned out that this would be my first time using a toilet that was recessed into the floor. It was rather strange though I understand that it is more sanitary than what I would call a traditional toilet. The one thing that was a little off putting was the lack of a lock on the door. This was not an issue at this point but in the morning someone did walk in while I was…busy. Hamna shida, that’s one of the benefits of being a man; using the facilities with ones back to the door.
We had decided that we should not be too tired when we started our climb so we set our breakfast reservation for 7:30 and hit the sack. Because I forgot my book at home I wrote a few pages in my journal and went to sleep. The bed was soft but the covers were moist from the humidity of the recent heavy rains and I slept well under only the dry bedspread. In the morning we woke to an overcast sky and decided that we would give it a go, settle our guesty bill and walk over for breakfast. Settling the bill was a bit of a nightmare as we each seem to carry no small bills and the proprietor was having difficulty adding. We ended up paying 32,000 shillings and went on our way. Of course my business brain could not come to terms with such an amount not only was it small, but it was wrong. As we walked I added, and came to 28,000. So I returned to the guesty, made my argument to the proprietor and got back our 4,000 Shillings. As Frances had shelled out the extra, I returned the money to her and we walked on.
We once again dodged puddles but found our table in the other guest house in a private dinning room and settled into a breakfast of tae or coffee and Chipati (large thin pancakes). The conversation at the table was in four languages and mostly about the weather and the climb. We also spoke a lot about pancakes as the Dutch students, with a lack of anything else sprinkled a great deal of sugar on their pancakes. I had to shout at the tired Douwe at one point as he took a heaping spoonful of Africafe (the local instant coffee) and was about to sprinkle it on his last Chipati. He was more than grateful until the whole table began to bug him about it, but it was all in fun and we finished up and asked for the bill. The woman came with her pad of paper and the calculator on her cell phone and added up the cost of tea for 6, coffee for 4 and Chipati for all 10 of us. The entire breakfast came to 5000 Shillings and if you are playing along at home you will no doubt realize that we each owed about $0.50 Canadian. Less then the price of a pack of Wrigley’s gum.
Let’s add it up so far. Each person had spent so far;
Dinner $1.25
Bed $2.00 (give or take a buck for a bathroom in the room)
Breakfast $0.50
Total $3.75
We now mounted up in our two vehicles (the two dutch guys, Douwe and Mirjam in the Land Rover and the rest of us in the Land Cruiser) and sped off to the mountain road. We drove for a few minutes on a fairly smooth (for Tanzania) dirt road then turned North onto an increasingly rugged mountain road. We passed some nice Missionary’s homes with high fences and fresh paint, past dirt Shambas with grass roofs and rickety animal pens, and then it looked as though we were going to drive right into an outbuilding of a leaning mud and stick home. I thought this was the end of the road, with the mountain still a long way off; it would be a long walk. But Adam swerved at the last moment as the track went within two feet of the building as it curved around and went deeper into the lush green forest. The road turned into almost a footpath, not much wider than the Cruiser and we made good use of the leaf spring suspension as we bounded at high speed farther into the woods. The road widened, turned hard to the right and dropped off down to a narrow stream.
Four wheel drive was about to come in handy, at least for our less experienced Dutch Friends in the Rover...
