Apparently I'm not good at keeping this updated. I had every intention of writing this last blog for Africa the second I returned home, but there always seemed to be some sort of task, laundry for instance, or washing the hardwood floors as a stretch, I could use to delay the inevitable. I think at one point I even rationalized that my time would be best be utilized by thinking about the blog instead of writing it.
Anyway, summer quickly evaporated like they always do and school weaseled its way in. It's easier to put off the blog when you are desperately trying to put off grading at the same time. However, with school comes eager students and a few special ones that inspire you to start dreaming of new adventures and how you might be able to include them on said adventures. I guess this is what is prompting me to finish up the Africa blog. I need to start on a new adventure blog for 2014!
More on this later:)
For now, let's go back to Africa.
My experiences in Kigali left a deep impression. Trying to reconcile something I taught in an academic setting and then bearing witness to the actual locations and remnants of what happened in 1994 is something I am still wading through. I went on a reading binge shortly after leaving Kigali. I think despite knowing the story quite well, I still desperately cling to some vain hope that knowing just a few more facts will help me understand that big red stain on the wall of the Sunday school at Ntarama.
Unfortunately, clarity on this has so far eluded me.
We took off from Kigali early morning without incident and arrived in Dar Es Salaam a few hours later after routing through Nairobi. A beautiful view of Kilimanjaro was about the only highlight of the day. Dar Es Salaam was unpleasant. Traffic was pretty bad through the city and I was ripped off by the cab driver, which was compounded by the near death experiences along the way. Unfortunately, this would be emblematic of my experiences for the rest of the trip. Prices would ultimately always be higher than quoted. We learned to ask for a price, then ask, "Really, though? So at the end of the drive, it will be this?" Holding up the exact cash just to announce that we had already been ripped off and had no intention of doing it again helped out, too. Luckily, Dar was not our destination and really just a jump off point to get out to Zanzibar, the former slave trade, cultural melting pot, spice island, aqua blue water tourist hotspot. We took the two hour ferry on smooth seas to the beautiful island and in no less than 15 minutes had us lost in its labyrinth like maze of streets looking for out hotel. I eventually let one of street guys who gives "tours" help me find the spot. After paying him for the help, I spent the next two days avoiding him at all costs so as not to get the hard sell on why I needed to book a tour with him.
Zanzibar was pretty cool, despite the constant pressure of sales and tours. It was a bit weary to constantly have to ward off aggressive sellers, but overall, the architecture, food, and history of the place was enough to keep my mind busy. Catching a sunset on top of one the many rooftop restaurants, or sharing wine with a couple from New Zealand at tables set up on the beach provided ample time for reflection. I felt like we had to do some sort of tour while we were there so we decided to do a Spice Tour. Since Morberg can't smell, I was put on the spot more than I like and was embarrassed not to be able to recognize all the spices we use so often in the wild. Even when the guy cut some root off of some seemingly random green plant growing along the path and shoved it in my face, I was unable to identify it as ginger. It was pretty cool to see where pepper, vanilla, cinnamon, and many other common spices, actually came from.
From Zanzibar we had to brave a bit of a choppier ferry ride back to Dar Es Salaam and then brave the choppy taxi ride to the airport before we were able to head to our last destination, Kenya.
Once we arrived in Nairobi, we both slumped down in the hotel tired and a bit travel weary. We had boarded some dozen different flights in the previous three weeks and it was beginning to show. We didn't have the exploratory, itchy feet we had in Cape Town, and were more prone to find some pizza and retire to the room for a movie, or two, or three. Nevertheless, we did venture out. We made a trip out to a wonderful museum and reptile center that involved a walk across the city and we even tried one last time to see a lion out in one of the parks just outside of the city. No luck. I just have to accept that the mighty lion and I will have to meet some time in the future. On the last day, we checked out of the hotel early in the day and needed an activity to keep us occupied before catching a night flight to Switzerland and eventually back to the States. My suggestion was to take a bit of a walk and head towards the Westgate Mall, where we could catch a movie. Of course, what was a stupid excuse to hang out in air conditioned buildings and watch western movies, a terrible one at that, is overshadowed by the events that happened at that mall a month or so after we were there. Apparently the terrorists rented a shop there where they smuggled weapons and posed as businessmen. Not sure if we walked past that store, but we could have. Quite honestly, it is a bit chilling and really quite sad considering the vast majority of Kenyans we talked to were excited about the ever increasing opportunities in Kenya, the relative peace, and how they are starting to feel as though they have a hand in their own destiny.
And that was that. We had spent nearly a month in Africa, but really it seemed like much longer. Like any good trip, your everyday experiences, even the mundane, take on extraordinary characteristics and leave indelible marks on your memory. But I must say, this trip was filled with activities that went far beyond the mundane. How about a short list: I pet a cheetah, hung on an elephant's tusk, visited Mandela's prison cell, met kids at school in a township, got sprayed with mist from Victoria Falls, ran off a baboon, biked to the Cape of Good Hope, talked politics with Zambians, cruised the Zambezi, watched a sunset over Zanzibar, and witnessed the beauty of Rwanda and its people, and saw the potential evil that resides in us all. It would be easy to say that I need to travel back to Africa to see that lion that never appeared for me, but really, it will be the beautiful people, the multitude and diversity of cultures and languages, the varied landscapes across the countries and ultimately that sunset that truly doesn't look like anything else out there that will pull me back. I can't wait!
