Mountains Don’t Meet, People Do: Final Impressions of East Africa

Mountains don’t meet, people do. This means that people, not places, have the great fortune to see one another again. My wildlife management professor Shem introduced this common East African phrase to me. While he used it to ease the move from Kenya to Tanzania, I can’t help but think of it again as I return stateside. I am homeward bound tomorrow, embarking on three flights and over 24 hours of travel time. The past four months have passed incredibly quickly and enjoyably – as all good things do. Wasn’t it just a few short weeks ago that I ran through the airport trying to find any airline that would fly me to Africa in a snowstorm? When I look back on my first night spent in Tanzania (in a strange hotel room in ninety-degree heat), it feels as if it happened just yesterday – but also like it happened ages ago. Maybe that’s because I’ve experienced so much since then. Maybe it’s because I’m not quite the same person as I was in February. Maybe it’s both.

This will not be my last blog post. I plan on posting a final, sentimental blog upon my arrival stateside. I also hope that my layover in Amsterdam will be eventful enough to be blog-worthy. With six hours in between flights, I will be attempting to quickly explore the city’s famous canals. Fingers crossed that I don’t get absurdly lost and miss my flight (but hey, technically I did that already – right?). I don’t think I will, I built in time for that.

My time abroad has been eye-opening and incredible, to say the least.  I wanted to focus this blog on all the memories – big and small – that I don’t want to forget.

YOLO-ing with lions… one of the many possible things you can do in Ngorongoro Crater

10 Favorite Memories from Tanzania:

*In no particular order

1. The original trek to Moyo Hill Camp. Everything was lush and green from the recent rains, a beautiful difference from the arid region in Kenya that I had been living in for the past two months. Leaving Kilimanjaro Bush Camp, I was not sure if anything could top the view of Kili from my bedroom. Nevertheless, I was blown away by the rolling hills, rift escarpment, the maize fields, the trees… everything looked picturesque day in and day out.

2. Holidays and birthdays… aka food! There were only a few birthdays at the beginning of this trip, which led me into the false illusion that I would not eat a single dessert until I was back in America. Nevertheless, birthdays picked up and I have been spoiled with everyone’s homemade recipes: snicker doodles, brownies, carrot cake… there are some serious baking skills in this group. In addition, we have made delicious Passover and Easter dinners. Just recently, sans sour cream, we made the best Cinco de Mayo dinner that I have ever had. We had rice, fried avocado, guacamole, salsa, queso, tortilla chips, as well as meats and veggies all prepared and seasoned in Mexican fashion. With chapatis obviously doubling as our tortillas, the make-your-own-burrito station was a hit. Everyone walked away with painfully full stomaches – a sign of a successful night.

3. Mrs. Hyde’s care package. Maybe you’re thinking, what could be so great about a care package? The answer is that a care package from Mrs. Hyde will always blow any other care package out of the water. A few days back, I was sitting at dinner when my student affairs manager plopped a big package in front of me. I didn’t bother to look up, because I simply did not expect it to be for me. Low and behold, the box was labelled for Mary Burak. Inside contained a heartwarming note and an amazing abundance of American snack foods. The package came with perfect timing – lately, I had been skimping out on the meals here because the food had gotten repetitive and blah. I was so thankful to have been thought of back home, and incredibly grateful for who sent it. I still cannot thank you enough, Mrs. Hyde!

4. TP-ing the Serengeti. Just after driving through the park’s main gate, my vehicle temporarily stopped so as to raise our roof and start a game drive. I hopped into the front seat and, in the process, let a roll of toilet paper out. Luckily, part of the roll was slammed into the door. By the time we noticed, lovely white streams of paper were flowing from our vehicle. Amidst laughter, our driver hopped out and frantically gathered the toilet paper before a park ranger (or predator) came by. We recovered all of it, and continued the drive… only to splash mud up into the car through the open windows. The already dirtied toilet paper came in handy when wiping the mud off of our bodies.

“Serengeti” – the endless plains

5. Moyo Hill walks with Brenna and Megan. Brenna, Megan, and I would wake up every morning before breakfast and go on “power walks” around our neighborhood. Once DR began, our morning walks eventually became afternoon walks. Since it was then daylight and hyenas would not be out hunting, we added Moyo Hill into our routine. On the way, children would run up to us and ask us our names. The younger ones would hold our hands and count moja, mbili, tatu… (one, two, three…) – and expect to be lifted into the air on three. Dusk at Moyo Hill will probably forever be my favorite moment: warm breezes, pastoralists herding their cattle in for the night, children out of school… all with incredible views of the Great Rift escarpment and Lake Manyara.

L-R: Myself, Brenna, Megan
On top of Moyo Hill, with Lake Manyara in the background

Megan & I during a sunrise hike to Moyo Hill

6. Ignes. Our one-eyed tailor in Rhotia has not only been a fun person to visit in town, but has proven his capabilities as a skilled sewer. Almost all SFS students have brought their fabric to him, only to come back with one-of-a-kind shirts, pants, dresses, and skirts.

Knife painting: another skill many of the locals have
Mto Wa Mbu, Tanzania

7. Our askari named Safari. Just the fact that his birth name is actually Safari.

8. Serengeti expedition. As a biology major, my trip to the Serengeti was somewhat of a religious experience. It brought me through the beautiful Ngorongoro Conservation area and the great migration. I saw so many native animals that I never thought imaginable. It is so amazing that something as simple as a game drive – a warm breeze and a priceless panoramic view – can make you so content with life.

“There is something about safari life that makes you forget all your sorrows and feel as if you had drunk half a bottle of champagne – bubbling over with heartfelt gratitude for being alive.”
-Karen Blixon
Lake Nakuru National Park, Kenya

9. Mosquito nets. This is more of a favorite memory from both Kenya and Tanzania, but I have grown to love sleeping underneath the shelter of a mosquito net. At first, it was inconvenient, a nuisance, and confining. I had always just tucked myself in when I realized that I still needed to brush my teeth, or change my clothes. Now, I cherish sleeping underneath a mosquito net. Not only am I guaranteed to be bug-free, but I look at it as if I’m sleeping in a princess-style bed.

10. The silent skies. This is another East Africa-wide memory. There are much fewer planes in the sky here than back home in America. At first, I didn’t even notice. But on a clear night in Kenya, I remember being able to see Kilimanjaro almost as clear as day, as well as the dippers and Orion’s Belt. A starlit sky without noise pollution is hard to come by, but easy to cherish.

 

“All I wanted to do was get back to Africa. We had not left it, yet, but when I would wake in the night I would lie, listening, homesick for it already.”

-Ernest Hemingway

No one can say it better than Ernest Hemingway. I first heard this quote through a fellow student here, and have now completely adopted it as my own. Four months ago, I would’ve found this quote artistic – but nothing more. Now, it is a relatable sentiment that I hold very close. For the past week, I have been blogging about getting ready to go home. It may have been drawn out, but it was because I was already homesick for a place I had not even left yet. Some days, when I walk in town or drive down the street, I can only think about how little I’ve seen and how much more Africa has to offer. I am both ready to go home and to continue my adventures abroad. It is hard to balance the excitement for returning home with the sadness of ending an adventure of a lifetime. I guess I’ll have a lot of time on the airplane to mull over my emotions.

Lake Manyara National Park entrance

Being rebellious and disrespecting LMNP signage

Did I mention that we cut off our student affair manager’s hair? After community presentations, each student cut off a piece! Kiri’s hair was originally longer than mine. I’m not quite sure if that’s the look of pure fear in her eyes…

My final day in Tanzania has consisted of successfully packing, as well as one last trip to a fancy souvenir shop. Several students invested in Tanzanite jewelry – I just went for the ride. In the morning, we had a program debrief with all of the Moyo Hill faculty. We all shared our favorite memories of the trip, and gave our thank-you’s. I successfully fought of the tears, but I sat with a lump in my throat the entire time.

The second half of the debrief was attended only by the SFS students and our student affairs manager. We discussed things that we are looking forward to going home to, as well as the potential for reverse culture shock. We all agreed that we were, on some level, scared to go home. The truth is that each student has experienced and changed so much, for the better, on this trip. While we have proceeded through these experiences and changes together, we are going home to people who are both excited to hear our stories and will also never fully cherish or understand them as much as we do. Living in East Africa for four months has really put into perspective what is to be valued most in life, and what worries should be forgotten. During this meeting, we admitted the fear about not caring as much about our loved one’s daily complaints, and fear that this attitude will be interpreted as disrespect rather than a greater enlightenment about life.

Our day ended with an absolutely spectacular dinner prepared by our cooking staff. Earlier in the week, they asked for a list of all of our favorite foods… they made all of them! Fried fish, chapati, guacamole, pizza, chips mayai – only to be topped off with brownies and banana cake.

A few nights ago, we voted on SFS superlatives. Awards were given out during tonight’s R.A.P. … I was voted Most Likely to Marry a Local. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t true.

In honor of Mother’s Day (Happy Mother’s Day to the one and only Martha/Mom – you are everything I want to be one day!) we also played Who’s Mom is it Anyway? We submitted photos of our mother’s and everyone had to guess who’s mom it was. No one was able to guess mine!

After the awards and games, our staff turned off the lights and ran outside. We were a bit confused, so we just sat quietly in the dark. Soon, we heard chanting. The staff came in, dancing and singing traditional Iraqw songs. We didn’t know the words, but we tried our best to join in. After several songs, we were asked to be seated. Two of our staff members, Pascal and Sylvasi, chanted a farewell Iraqw prayer. The rest of the staff joined in with lower chants – it gave me chills! It was explained that Iraqw priests typically deliver this prayer before a guest leaves their home. So, this prayer was used before we leave our home – Moyo Hill.

A cute girl at a primary school that I visited during a field lecture. She laughed at this picture of herself!

The next 48 hours are going to be a whirlwind of emotions. Crying is to be expected when I leave Moyo Hill Camp for the final time. That is soon going to be followed up by the stress of a quick pit stop in Arusha, trying to successfully check in at the Kilimanjaro airport, attempting to explore Amsterdam without losing my luggage or missing my flight, and then stepping through my front door in Massachusetts.

Stay tuned for two last blogs, regarding:

1. What to do in Amsterdam when you only have six hours in between flights.
2. My final words about study abroad.