Purpose:

"Peace requires the simple but powerful recognition that what we have in common as human beings is more important and crucial than what divides us."
-Sargent Shriver


Sunday, February 24, 2013

Mellen Reunited



Mellen in Moshi, Tanzania

Ok, so I made it all the way to Moshi, Tanzania from Houston, TX. I have been threatened to write for Ellen’s blog or else! I’m scared.

I had wanted to go to Tanzania since I met someone from there in Rome. When I found out Ellen was heading there, I knew it was the opportunity of a lifetime. When else should I visit Tanzania than when Ellen is there? O yes, the adventures of Mellen continue, although in a much warmer climate than Europe.

So I pack up and head to Tanzania. I was expecting a very houstonesque climate and was shocked to find myself “cold” when I arrived at 8:30 at night. We had an amazing safari experience with lions walking right under our truck, and baboons climbing and throwing things at our truck.  About 100 elephants in one place alone, including a 2 month baby elephant playing in the water. Zebras and wildebeest chasing away a hyena to protect their babies. Lionesses staring down two cheetahs and scaring away hyenas. Rhinos and hippos and buffalos and ostriches and monkeys and dik-diks, and pumbas and so many birds. O what a trip!

(Top) Tarangire National Park
(Below) Ngorgoro Crater
O and the food. Our guide Edgar questioned my dietary choices every meal we had together. “So you don’t eat meat?” no.  “What about chicken?” no. “What about fish?” no. “Would you eat buffalo?” ummm, no. “You could never be a Maasai.” But the fruit, goodness and deliciousness and so fresh. The mango or pineapple or passion fruit juice every morning. It was a nice reminder of home in Colombia; you definitely can’t get that in the US.  And after getting adventurous and trying some different Indian food, I have now been eating quite a bit of Indian dishes in the US. Who would have thought?  I ate more food in Tanzania than normal, but Ellen insisted I tried all kinds of awesome food which names I have now forgotten.  *(Ugali and maharage: a ball of flour and beans)

I was very grateful we splurged and had a room with a bathroom that had not only a flushing western toilet, but hot water showers. I really like toilets. The choo… how do you know you are aiming right? How do make sure it doesn’t get on your clothes and shoes? Ellen’s answer… beginners luck. At one point in one of those porcelain choos in one of the parks (read … lots of tourists) it was wet. All around. Good thing I was good at gymnastics as a teenager and child. You really have to get creative and be rather flexible to not only aim properly, but avoid everyone else’s ummm mess getting on your clothes, etc. Yes, I really like toilets.
At the Hot Springs just outside Moshi

We had the opportunity to go an orphanage and play with all these happy kiddos. They are so adorable, I seriously wanted to bring one home with me. It was such a fun time and I was extremely glad to see how well they were being educated and how well fed and treated they were. I have been trying to do something for them since I got back. Although it was very difficult to pick one kid to sponsor, that we decided to ask which one had the least amount of sponsors and just go with that one. One professor at my university is also helping me out to get more donations headed that way. It is the least I can do.  (Orphanage Website: www.treasuresofafrica.org, Children's Home)

But most importantly, it was so amazing to be able to spend all this time with Ellen. We laughed, we explored, we made fools of ourselves, we swam, we shopped, we talked about politics and religion and life in Tanzania.  Over lots of cups of coffee we caught up on everything that has happened since we were in England.   It was fantastic to share this amazing experience with her, be able to see the life she is living, and be able to appreciate and understand so much more the hard work and dedication she has been giving to better the life of all these people. Ellen is seriously a hero and a role model and I cannot wait until our mini Leicester reunion Vancouver 2014!

-Meli Avila

________________________________________________________________________________________
***Just in case you missed Brett's writing....here is Part II

We all wait anxiously for Ellen (AKA ASHA, AKA MANKA, AKA TWIGA) to return home! I am grateful for the trip, the lifetime’s worth of inside jokes, and the anticipation of many future travels!             
I will end this blog with my top ten countdown. A list of my favorite sights and sounds from the trip (listing them from ten to one).
                  10.  Jayhawk basketball fans in Tanzania. Seeing a Tanzanian wearing a Jayhawks jersey during a pick-up game of basketball was a welcomed surprise.  Since he had the power of Rock Chalk Nation on his back, he was of course the best player on the court.  And, he had no clue who the Jayhawks were.  It didn’t matter.  Jayhawks rockin’ over here, Jayhawks rockin’ over there, Jayhawks rockin’ everywhere.
At St. Johns Uni Basketball Court.  This boy is also in Ellen's youth group.
                 
9.  Going through the market in Dodoma. We bartered in the Dodoma market, and Ellen helped translate. I tried out a few lines in Swahili; the Tanzanian’s looked in shock and thought it was hilarious.  
                 
8.  Seeing lions try to hunt down wildebeest. For the most part, the animals on safari were inactive. We saw the occasional battle between male gazelle’s (which was awesome as well). My adrenaline was pumping most when I saw a group of lioness try to attack wildebeest!   
                 
7.  Lodging. From the beginning of our stay in the Arusha Lodge to the place on Mafia Island, we had great accommodations. My favorite place was outside the Ngorongoro Crater.  Again, Google the Explorean Lodge, it is hard to describe how amazing it truly was! Ellen’s place was all right… Just kidding.  Despite the geckos on her wall, having to take a bucket bath, and her flea-covered cat, I liked staying at her place as well. I wish I could have had a few more days to stay there!
The Explorean Lodge
                 
6.  New Year’s Eve party. Celebrating and dancing with the Masaai to bring in the New Year has been my most memorable New Year’s ever.
                 
5.  Swimming with Whale Sharks. I survived!
                 
4.  Ellen as tour guide. I know that she was probably drained from having to explain and re-explain everything about her daily routine to us, but it was nice to see briefly what she does in Tanzania. She was also patient, for the most part, in teaching us Swahili and more about the Tanzanian culture.
                 
3.  Game time. Every night playing games with Mark, Mary, and Ellen provided lots of laughter and entertainment. The “Would You Rather Game” will go down in infamy.
                 
2. Inside jokes. Too many to list, but I was laughing the entire trip.  And finally,
                 
1.  Beach time. I enjoyed being lazy on the beach—some of the best beaches in the world. Being 19 before I left Kansas on a plane, I can say I haven’t seen many of the beaches in the world in person. But, the beaches we stayed at have to compare to the best in the world. They have to. If not, point me to those beaches, and I would like to go there…

   

BMW in Tanzania






Hello fellow bloggers-

I feel like an all-star because I get to be a guest blogger on Ellen’s blog! I’m not a blogger, so this may be a bumpy read. Keep a couple things in mind as I unravel my nonlinear thoughts about my trip to Tanzania: 1) it was a trip of a lifetime (this is not a cheesy line but the truth, as it was literally a trip of a lifetime), 2) I had the opportunity to see Ellen at her best (being lazy all day on a beach, what’s new…), and 3) I caught the travel bug (the ones that make you want to travel more and the ones that keep you in the bathroom all day).  

*Warning: if this blog appears less funny than usual, it is because Ellen edited out some of the funny stories that were in the original version I sent to her.  Reader beware. 

Now this is the story all about how / My life got flipped, turned upside down/ And I ‘d like to take a minute , just sit right there/ I’ll tell you how I became mkuu of Ngorongoro Crater
Let’s start with the pre-flight trip. It’s Christmas day, and I’m about 24 hours away from fleeing Kansas City to see Ellen in Tanzania. Cara stops by for a quick chat Christmas night. It’s nice to have Cara there because I am scatterbrained.  My mind is in a million places, and I can barely sit still anticipating the next few hours before I board my first international airplane. Is everything packed? What’s the flight going to be like? Will I get any sleep tonight? Man, I will miss eating cereal for three weeks.  What is Ellen thinking right now? Malaria pills suck. Will I have to take a bucket bath…bleh. Should I pack some Gushers? Have I told friends and family goodbye?    

The morning of the trip is here. I’m running on pure adrenaline at this point. I’m up two hours earlier than I need to be, and I can’t fall back asleep. Brush my teeth two or three times. I pace around my room a couple times, wake up my dog (and she is barking at me for waking her up too early), play some games on my phone, check Facebook. I’m anxious, and so I repeat the aforementioned routine. My parents and I finally drive over to meet up with Mark and Mary. I am excited to be traveling with Ellen’s parents to Tanzania, as I know there will be lots of fun storytelling and games to come on the trip. My mom (AKA safety patrol) is relieved that I will be traveling with Ellen’s parents because, frankly, she is worried that I will get lost, stuck, or somehow misplaced during my first international trip. (Mom, I made it back safe!) Mark and Mary are seasoned travelers, and my mom finds peace of mind in this; I can say that it is a luxury to be able to rely on them for all airplane details on the trip through our three stops: Minneapolis, Amsterdam, and Kilimanjaro.
Leaving KCI for Tanzania!  Brett, Mum and Pops

The meals on the plane go round and round! There is so much food on international flights, and this isn’t like hospital food, folks. This is the good stuff. Three meals and snacks in-between. The flight attendants in all blue are handing out chicken and seafood, salads, and chocolaty desserts. I get to lean back and watch movie, after movie, after movie while eating. It’s Christmas all over again! But the legroom sucks. This is the only time where I am thankful I am not taller because it would have been miserable to sit with numb legs for 18 hours…      

During the final three hours of the last flight transfer from Amsterdam to Tanzania, I am a nervous ball of energy. I unintentionally revert back to my Dennis the Menace days because I can’t sit still. I think Mark and Mary sensed this because, as soon as we stepped off the plane to go through customs in the Kilimanjaro airport, they sent me ahead through the customs line to greet Ellen first.

I could see Ellen sticking out among a small crowd:  Tall, beautiful, rosy-cheeked and sweaty. Just like I hoped, minus the sweating part. With luggage hanging awkwardly off of my every limb, I waddle up as fast as I can to give Ellen a big bear hug. It is fourteen months too long for a hug. We are both shaking and excited and smiling. I am now dripping sweat too, Karibu Tanzania. As customs are slow, her parents eventually join us. They are beaming as they walk up and give her big hugs as well. Man, it feels good to be with Ellen! Our travelling guide, Maji, welcomes us: KARIBU TANZANIA!      

Jet-lagged, we make our way to our first stay on safari near Arusha. It’s after midnight in Tanzanian time. The four of us are talking in flurries, gathering and sharing fourteen months of missing stories with Ellen. The Toyata Land Cruiser we ride in is still cooling down from a warm, sticky day. It feels like a night in July in Shawnee, Kansas.  Except it’s Africa! Crazy! I’m in shock, and my mind is trying to put all the new puzzle pieces together. The BUMPY dirt roads, the duka on the left and right, the signs posted everywhere, the motorcycles zooming by.  There are so many Coca-Cola signs. What?!? Where am I again?

Wildebeest at Ngorongoro Crater

The first five days of our trip is spent on a safari. We stay a night in Arusha, another night outside Ngorongoro Crater, and then end our safari on a three night stay in a Robin-Leach-worthy tent in the Serengeti. The lodging for the three places is top-of-the-line. My favorite stay is in the Exploreans Ngorongoro Lodge. Google it. It’s worth your time to Google. The log cabin style lodges with thatched roofs overlook the Ngorongoro volcanic landscape. It’s a place where fog settles over the tree line in the morning, and it feels like you are floating above the Earth. If you are a native of flat Kansas like myself, this sight is wholly unfamiliar. In the distance of the Exploreans lodging, you can see the start of the Game Reserve where the “Big 5” (Elephant, Leopard, Lion, Rhino, and Buffalo) roam. The food is lick-your-lips good. Any seafood that is offered, I am gobbling up. Mark and I are on a mission to try all of the beers offered, while Mary and Ellen try the wines. The Kilimanjaro is my favorite. The Tanzanian’s say that the Kilimanjaro is the “girl” beer.  Nevertheless, Mark and I agree that it was definitely the best of all the beers.  

We spend our nights on safari looking through photos of the LIONS-AND-ZEBRAS-AND-GIRAFFES-OH-MY, sharing funny stories about friends and family back home, and playing games like “Would you Rather” (thanks Mom for sending this game to Ellen). It is the start of many legendary inside jokes: “Tuliona Chui na Yue,” “Mhhhmmm (Sling Blade voice),” “6 inch big toe (don’t ask…).” New Year’s Eve is spent in the Serengeti camp.  We celebrate with a mixed group of travelers from Australia and the U.S., Masaai warriors, and the staff. The Masaai perform a ritual dance and invite us to join after a few drinks. We go to bed before we have a chance to teach ‘em how to dougie.
(Left) Taking a plane from the Serengeti to Dodoma

The last night of the trip in the Serengeti may have been one of the scariest moments of the trip. Mom, skip this section. Does anyone know what hyenas sound like when they hunt? Well, I do now.  Sometime in the middle of the night I was awakened by what sounded like a high-pitched laughing call.  It’s not what you want to hear within a short distance of your tent. The next morning, the Masaai warriors informed us that not only were there hyenas close by our tents, but lions can pass by as well! Crazy!          

I must also tell a short story about our stay in Dodoma, Ellen’s placement site in Tanzania, as it is something that I will never forget. Set the scene:  it’s breakfast time, my stomach is rumbling, and I know that I can’t get by only eating some of her sugary fruit snacks. I ask Ellen if she has anything else to eat, and she tells me that she has some oatmeal that I can have. When she hands it to me, I stir it around and take a few big bites. Mmmmm cinnamon. I am halfway through and, from the kitchen, I hear Ellen yell, “Whatever you have in your mouth, spit it out.” Wait, what did she just say?!? “Brett, I don’t know if there was anything in your food for sure, but I don’t want you to eat anymore of the oatmeal to be safe.” I just ate half of the oatmeal…what do you mean ‘to be safe?’ Little did I know that as she was sifting through the oatmeal some more, she thought she spotted a few weevils. She came into the room as I was scraping my tongue of any oatmeal remnants. Until this point in the trip, I had no troubles with digesting the food.  A couple of days after the “food incident,” I became a frequent flyer to the bathrooms. The conspiracy theorist in me will always blame the oatmeal. Ellen may have a different explanation.
View at the Lazy Lagoon off of Bagamoyo

The next two weeks are spent roughing it at Lazy Lagoon and Mafia Island. And by roughing it, I mean sitting around on islands that are in the Indian Ocean where the water is deep blue, the sand is blindingly white, and the food could inspire Gordon Ramsey. It is the first time I eat octopus, and it is surprisingly good!


At Lazy Lagoon, Ellen and I kayak to a sand bar, run the eastern limit of the beach that is lined with black coral, and swim for hours until we look like lobsters. We also take advantage of being lazy. We read books left over from travelers past, play with the manager’s dog, and partner up to play spades against Mark and Mary. I would love to say that Ellen and I worked well together and won. Welp, that didn’t happen. Not even close. Ellen and I have many years of practice before we can come close to competing in spades.

The weeklong stay at Mafia is bittersweet. Ellen and I swim with whale sharks!!! Yes, I said WHALE SHARKS—moving buses of the ocean. While I avoid getting swallowed the first time I dive into the ocean, it is not as scary as I initially made it out to be. The whale sharks have little interest in people and are more concerned with keeping their mouths open to swallow an ocean full of plankton. Ask Ellen what it feels like to swim into plankton—not fun! With few other guests on the side of the island that we are staying, it is almost as if we have an island to ourselves. Our days are as lazy as lazy can be. We eat four-course meals, play Sudokus, make friends with the staff, and occasionally run (I mean Ellen runs to prepare for her marathon and I continue relaxing). Although the goodbyes are tough, we smile through the stories from my 19 day journey. The countdown to her return is down to 10 months and counting…

-Brett Woods
Before dinner drinks on Mafia Island




Friday, February 22, 2013

World AIDS Day


Foreshadowing, I hate you.

It was the eve of World AIDS Day, November 30th, 2012.  My youth club was over at my house, going through the prizes we had gotten, trying on their ‘Zero Stigma, Zero Transmission, Zero Deaths’ t-shirts, gawking over a box of 5000 condoms, and reviewing each of their education sessions.  Julius, our Logistics Coordinator, had a schedule and checklist in his hand in which he looked over each detail of the next day.  Mussa, Peer Education Coordinator, was practicing his condom demonstration in front of the other members.  Happy (picture below), our lone and strong female, was working on posters and diagrams of information.

Yes, it was all coming together, FINALLY, and tomorrow our group would head to Hombolo University to play in a 4-team basketball tournament intertwined with peer-led health education sessions.  My house was covered in last minute notes, PC khangas and 18 twenty-somethings.
Then I asked a question.  A question I honestly had not thought about until that moment.  Why would I?  We lived in the desert.  The rainy season officially began tomorrow, but we hadn’t seen a drop since last March.  Why would such a thing as inclement weather cross our minds for an outdoor event?

‘So….uh, guys….and gal…..what happens if it rains tomorrow?’ I asked.

The room erupted with laughter.  ‘Oh Asha,’ they reassured me, ‘it’s not going to rain!’

Foreshadowing, I hate you.

Everyone left my house by 9:30 and I headed to bed getting minimal sleep out of pure excitement for the next day.  The next morning I got up at 6 am to walk into town and pick up more t-shirts for the tourney teams.  At town centre a few dark clouds hung in a far distance and another volunteer said ‘looks like rain.’  NOT FUNNY.  ‘Naw, I’m just teasing you, it’s probably nothing, and besides, the tourney is an hour drive away.’

Foreshadowing, I hate you.

After a 3-hour late start, (which I had actually worked into the schedule figuring our months of planning would still be tainted by a Tanzanian timetable), an hour long rented daladala ride with the goofy club members, and a kick start speech and welcome by Julius (picture right) and I, the tourney started!
Keeping score I stood on the sideline, facing the small mountains in the distance.  ‘Those looks like rain clouds to me,’ I said.  ‘Don’t worry, they are moving to the right, not towards us,’ Julius replied.


(ABOVE: Participants watching.  The shirts read, 'Tanzania inawezakana bila maabukizi mapaya, unyanyapaa, na vifo vitokanavyo na ukimwi.'  Directly translated, 'Tanzania can be without new infections, stigma and deaths from AIDS.' ...loosely translated to the worldwide theme of: Zero Stigma, Zero Infection, Zero Deaths)

Change of wind, I hate you.

One game down and halfway through a condom session….RAIN.  Thankfully, these participants and peer educators were incredibly dedicated.  Rain, no problem, Mussa kept on teaching.  And with a style and humor that kept everyone engaged and comfortable to ask questions.  The participants simply wiped off the precipitation on their faces as they discussed condom myths and facts.

Mussa doing a condom demonstration.  The first of many....

Start of game two and it now sprinkled the whole way through.  Looks as like the fans aren’t going to come watch, but at least we have about 60 people to target with our education sessions.

Game three and that cloud, that cloud that was mere seconds ago spitting, started POURING!
‘EVERYONE TO THE DALA!’  Thirty smelly athletes in a small van while another thirty huddled under a tree so sparse it provided no cover.  So what did Julius, Happy and Mussa do?  They kept on teaching, in the soaking, unforgiving rain..

‘I thought you said it wouldn’t rain,’ I sarcastically said to the crew.  ‘It will stop soon and all will be fine,’ they all replied.  Twenty minutes later, it was still raining.

Weather God’s with your odd sense of humor, I hate you.

By two, the teams suggested we take a 45-minute break to grab food while it continued to rain.  Great idea, I thought.

For those 45 minutes it was perfectly sunny and warm.

Irony, I hate you.

When we got back to the court and swept the water off, excited by the promising sun, more rain came out of nowhere.  It was sunny and raining….seriously?!

The day continued to be a mix of half games before everyone took cover.  Our organized sessions continued as participants strained to hear through the large drops hitting the now puddles on the court.
Overall, not what we anticipated.  Our goal target of 100 people was not made.  And we were unable to have our Get Tested Knock-Out Tourney.

But I can’t be disappointed.  The event happened.  The teams showed up.  Games were played.  Prizes were still handed out.  Everyone got his or her WAD t-shirts.  And, most important, some serious discussions about HIV/AIDS happened amongst a group that is rarely targeted in health education development.  This was a successful event, and my youth club proved they can be counted on and are dedicated to teaching their peers about HIV/AIDS.  More tournaments in the future are a must.

My English may be simplifying in my time here, but I will always remember my literary devices and substitute their unkind nature with a twist to only see success.

*Side note, other than December 1st and Christmas day, Dodoma got NO rain for the entire month.  Some rainy season.

SARAH! MARY! KELLY!


My abs are sore.  Not from a workout and not from sleeping awkwardly on my foam mattress.  No, this soreness is from a case of the giggles…..

It was an ordinary day, yesterday.  I had no teaching assignments, no meetings and finished all written work by 10 am.  But for some reason the normal walk to work, stroll around the market and nighttime run were filled with laughable memories.

First, on the walk to work, a man on his bike stopped when he saw me.  This is nothing out of the ordinary.  When we started talking in Swahili he stopped and told me he wanted to talk in English.  This is also nothing out of the ordinary.  He then proceeded to ask me a series of questions.
o   Dude: What is your name?
o   Me: My name is Ellen
o   Dude: Is this true?!
o   Me: Yes, this is true.
o   Dude: Where are you from?
o   Me: I am from the US.
o   Dude: Is this true?!
o   Me: Yes, this is true.
o   Dude: What do you do?
o   Me: I am a teacher and a volunteer.
o   Dude: Is this, true?!
o   Me: HA, yes, this is true.
o   Dude: Are you alone?
o   Me: Yes, I am.
o   Dude: Is this true?!
o   Me: I am laughing so hard at this point that I dramatically answer, ‘I REALLY CAN’T BELIEVE IT BUT YES, YES IT REALLY IS TRUE!!!!’

Dude rides away giggling too.  This is true.

When I arrived at work most of the teachers were out at the hospital and our principal was traveling.  So what does that mean?  It means that the secretary will ask me to dance the Cupid Shuffle and write me letters about her previous day to work on her English. 

Today she wrote about what time she woke up, what time she got to work, what time she signed in, what time she had tea, what time she left work, what time she got home, what time she realized she was locked out, what time her husband got home, what time she left for a party, what time she got home again and what time she went to bed. 

I knew directly following reading each sentence was time to giggle.
It also helps the letter ended with ‘I had fun for sure am telling you Pacha!’

I headed into town to buy some eggs and produce.  There is a little mgahawa I usually stop by to get free food (the owner likes to spoil me with samosas).  This time he wasn’t there, but the young girls who work there were screaming my name across the crowd gathered in the maze of tomatoes, onions and mangoes.  It was like I was on a red carpet and they just desperately wanted me to turn their way to take a picture.  ‘ASHA!  ASHA!  ASHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!’  When I finally turned and walked their way to greet them they smiled and simply said, ‘Hellow’ before giggling and walking away.

Really?!  All that work for a ‘hellow?’  Giggles.

On the walk home I stopped in a shop for coffee.  The couple that owns this place is precious!  The man, Massimo, is Italian and is constantly going 100 mph even if the setting is as calm as a spring pond.  The woman, from Rwanda, is full of spunk and definitely the person who calls the shots in their relationship.  As I sipped on my coffee in the heat (yes I drink hot things in hot weather now), we began chatting.  The conversation started with how bad car accidents are in Tanzania and proceeded to the refugee status and dire state of Sudan.  Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, she asks, ‘Do you like Oprah?  I do, but I don’t like Tyra.’

Coffee=through my nose.  Obviously this was an opinion she really needed to know and share.

On my last long run before my marathon I took my normal route: through the side streets and past students, daladala drivers and mamas with baskets of fruit on their heads.   Usually I run by 10-15 people who know me, know my name, and know my purpose for being here….I don’t even recall meeting them.  But today, when I ran by a group of people a sudden beckoning of ‘SARAH!  JESSICA!  MARY! ANY OTHER WHITE GIRL NAME I CAN THINK OF! MICHELLE! KELLY!’ rang out.  They were desperately trying to guess my name, any name, just so I would turn around.  When the little boy next to them yelled ‘Shikamoo Mwalimu Asha’ to which I responded ‘Marahaba’ they all LOST IT. 

Seeing a group of 20 twenty-somethings trying to get the girls attention only to be outshined by the 9-year-old will always make me laugh.

Yesterday was not to be an extraordinary day.  But it sure gave me a good ab work-out and silly memories of ‘the things Tanzanians say.’