Dung

2/8/11

I’m sitting at the top of Moyo Hill with a beautiful view of the landscape from Karatu all the way to Lake Manyara. The lake is so huge that it looks like the ocean from this far away. The wind is a little strong in my eyes but the breeze feels so nice that I don’t mind. It hasn’t rained since we’ve been here even though we are supposedly in the rainy season. Although the countryside is beautiful, it is really sad to know that all this should be forest and instead is farmland. In case you ever forget you are surrounded by farmland the roosters crow constantly to help remind you. Goats and cows are everywhere as well. What is bizarre is that I have yet to see people working the fields. There goes a rooster again. I thought they were only supposed to crow in the morning, but I guess not. I’ve been having an amazing experience in Africa. Yesterday we had our first day of classes, I hope its not as much work as it seems. The lectures are really interesting but so different from America. The teachers all speak English pretty well, but their accents (all from different tribes) are so different that it takes time to understand them. And what bothers me the most, or maybe just takes getting used to is the African sense of time. Hakuna matata really stands strong. The lectures are slow and easy going, but cover so much information that it takes an eternity to get through everything. The only thing fast paced about here is Market day. 

Every month on the 7^th, there is a market day in Karatu, the neighboring town (I can hear the goats bleating right now, did I mention we are all pitching in to buy a goat for a goat roast?), anyways… After our first day of school the girls changed into full length skirts and we hopped into the landrovers. The drive gets me every time. The sounds, smells, and pretty much everything are completely different. And of course they drive on the wrong side of the road here and have no speed limit or traffic signs. The only thing they have are what I assume are speed bumps, which they call Humps or Mounds. They usually tend to be in the middle of the town. There is one paved road that I have seen, the main one, and when you drive on it you can go miles without seeing anyone, and then all of a sudden there are buildings which make up the town. The largest town I’ve seen since we left the city of Arusha is Karatu which is 15 minutes away from where we live. Our camp is in Rhotia, which is very small. Once we got to the market we stepped out and were instantly surrounded by men trying to sell us touristy things. Most of the people trying to sell you things speak some English so they understand you when you are bargaining but mysteriously don’t understand the concept of NO. Lol, even if you say it in swahili. I set out to go look around and was constantly bombarded by English speaking young men who wanted me to buy their wares. You see the things they carry everywhere. The cheap beaded necklaces with an animal, giraffe or elephant. And each seller will offer you a different price. I had assumed the market would have stalls and such but everything was on tarps on the ground. The landscape reminds me of the parking lot at Shoreline Ampitheatre when you park on the dirt/grass. There were people everywhere, thousands, and the volume was the loudest I’ve heard since being here. Some of the girls and I, Christina and I clung to each other, wandered through the aisles if you could call it that. We were accompanied by Samwell, John and Jackson, three young Africans who learned English from our Student affairs manager Erica and were very nice. But also trying to sell us goods. How it works normally is that they bombard tourists when they arrive in town and then show them around and once the tourists are about to leave they ask for payment for being tour guides. I had no such intention of putting up with that after being warned by Erica. So I told them I wasn’t a rich tourist, that I was a student and had very little money, to which they all laughed. But after that they were just showing me around. They even asked if I wanted to go drink the local beer, again I had previously been warned by Erica to say no. There is an alcohol problem in Rhotia, the village we are based in, and therefore if we are seen drinking or hanging out with that crowd then SFS and our reputation is instantly out the window and we will never be able to converse with respectable people. And Erica also told us a story about the local brew causing several people to go blind. After an hour of wandering and being overwhelmed by people trying to sell me things I found a beautiful print of fabric that I bargained from 15,000 down to 4,000 Tanzanian shillings, the equivalency of $2-3. Apparently I have a natural talent for bargaining! Other girls bought fabric and we are going to go to a tailor in Rhotia, who is apparently really good, and get clothes and bags made for really cheap. Overall the market was an experience, I can’t wait to go back. This first week has been amazing, I have done more here in less than a week than I could ever have done at school this semester. We already have homework assignments and reports and reading assignments, but our teachers are so chill that it doesn’t seem too stressful yet. I’ve realized I never have time to do anything. Whenever we have breaks from class or field trips I am so exhausted or busy planning our next event that I don’t have time to blog, email or facebook. I love not being able to use my computer 24/7, and not having a cellphone buzzing every other minute. I don’t know what I will do when I go back to school senior year. I think the fast-pace might give me a heart attack after this leisurely attitude. I’ve realized that it is more fun to not be in such a rush, but no worries I still power-walk everywhere I go. I have much more to tell you, but I have to go to my Environmental Policy class now so my stories about my safari and Maasai field trip will have to wait. Oh, before I go, I forgot to explain my title. Our second Wildlife Ecology class was literally an hour talking about animal dung. All shapes, sizes, and smells. And on each table Kioko (the teacher), put a different dried sample of dung. I had zebra dung, wasn’t I just so lucky? LOL

Baadye

-Julie