Africa Pipe Dream

a happy look at Malawi :)

2009-08-06T02:50:00.000-07:00

So I realise I've painted a rather grim impression of Malawi in my previous four posts.

Just for some contrast, check out these videos taken by people from the World Food Programme in Lilongwe and Blantyre.

Note the obvious sense of humour that the kids have, despite their poverty, and the openness of the people selling food on the road and in the market. This, I think, is what Malawians would want to emphasise, more than some of the bad experiences I had.

Videos: on the road in Malawi, World Food Programme website

The diary of my good times in Malawi still to come :) xx

Malawi - part 1

2009-07-31T00:04:00.000-07:00

I arrived in Blantyre, Malawi on a Monday. Monday the 20th of April to be exact.

Getting there was an adventure in itself. A cancelled flight meant that instead of going from Nairobi straight to Blantyre, I would take 2 flights: one from Nairobi to Dar Es Salaam (Tanzania), and then one from Dar to Blantyre, via Lilongwe.
Oh yeah, and the flights were overnight. Joy.

I left my Kenyan host family and fellow volunteers outside the Jomo Kenyatta airport. It was a quick farewell. I suppose that is a good thing, like taking off a sticking plaster. I would miss them. I felt even more alone than when I first left New Zealand, but I was excited and determined too.

The flight left Nairobi at about 10pm, and arrived in Dar at about midnight. I had been told by the airline that they would arrange accommodation for the 5 hours between flights, which I thought was pretty nice.
At customs, I wondered how to explain my situation to airline staff. It was a busy night/morning. I watched the customs staff from the back of the line. They looked alert; they would tolerate no nonsense, but were friendly and welcoming all the same. One officer greeted a set of Chinese travellers with “ni hau”, and received a set of delighted grins in response.

“Mambo” said a female officer to me. I thought for a minute, and then realised that I knew this one: “Poa” I said in reply. “You are speaking Swahili” she said, sounding surprised, and wanted to know where I’d learned it.
30 minutes and $30 US dollars later, I had a fancy visa sticker in my passport, complete with my details and a picture of me taken with a web camera. I looked tired. I felt it.

I was the last one out of customs. My bags had been put on a trolley for me, which saved me having to look for them. “Here we go”, I thought to myself. I walked through the barrier to the waiting area, and there stood a Tanzanian man holding a sign with two names on it. One of the names was mine. Small mercies at midnight, my insides collapsed with relief. I would not have to explain after all.

The man drove me and the other passenger (a woman) to a nearby hotel. A very flash hotel, which also happened to be a casino, quite a distance from the airport. The driver apologetically drove through red lights. The streets of Dar were deserted.

I checked in with a little delay; we had to surrender our passports for checking, and then I did have to do a little bit of explaining about who was paying the bill. We got there in the end. I arranged a wake-up call, was escorted to my room and had a shower. Ohhh the shower was good. Then I got a solid three hours kip in a queen bed with incredibly soft pillows. I wished I could wash some of my clothes. I wished I knew whether I should have tipped the porter who took my bags for me.

All too soon I was back to the airport. The same driver took me again. He said he would be going back afterwards to get the pilot and flight attendants; they were staying at the same hotel. Small world.
A friendly Ugandan man chatted to me as we waited in line to check in. He lived in Lilongwe, and worked in development. He was interested in my volunteer work, and wanted to know my thoughts/impressions of the poverty I’d seen. “You will see more in Malawi” he noted.

Continued in the next episode...

Malawi - part 2

2009-07-31T00:03:00.000-07:00

The flight to Lilongwe was pretty uneventful; I was too tired to notice much, and new worries had started to eat away at my mind. It looked green out the window, I approved of that. Landing in Lilongwe airport was my first indicator that Malawi was definitely not Kenya or Tanzania. There were no x-ray machines, instead just a couple of wooden booths. You put your luggage up for checking by hand. My ukulele was particularly noted; I brought it out and strummed it a couple of times. The customs people seemed to like it. Then I was quickly patted down for weapons – by a female officer, thankfully – and gestured on.

The place looked almost deserted. It was a small airport, but confusing. I walked the wrong way up a broken escalator and wandered back and forth, looking for the domestic departures. The Ugandan man – my angel – saw my distress and showed me where to go.
Another plane, another flight. I longed for it to be over. My biggest fear now was what to do when we landed. I had a name for the lodge I was booked into, but no address. World Vision would not be there to meet me; as far as they knew, I was not arriving until the afternoon, and I had arranged no pickup with them. I had been given phone numbers for the local staff…but I had been too shy to ring them from NZ or even Kenya. I didn’t know how big the language barrier would be. I felt that if I failed at communicating by phone, I might chicken out and not go to Malawi at all.

We landed. There were barely any airport staff to be seen. I decided my first thing would be to sort out a SIM card and some local currency. I gathered my luggage, found a trolley and started looking for a shop or an ATM. I saw a currency exchange booth, but nothing else. I kept walking. Within seconds, the airport had suddenly ended: I was walking towards the exit. A man approached me and reached out to take my trolley, offering to push it. I said “no” firmly and kept walking, quicker this time. Further along, another man wearing a fluro vest took my trolley before I could say no. I thought perhaps he worked for the airport. Panic had taken over my brain.
“Where are you going?” he asked? I stuttered and said I was going to a lodge but had no address. “Which lodge?” he asked, as he gestured over another man from a nearby car. “Uuh, Wenela Lodge” I gasped, showing the name of the lodge in my notebook.
“I know it” the taxi man said; for that is what he was, a taxi driver working with a “tout” to get him business. The car did not look like what I knew of taxis in New Zealand, but then, taxis in Nairobi didn’t look like taxis either. “I have no local money” I said, hoping to buy some time to think. “Any currency, any currency madam” the man assured me.
I was out of ideas.

The tout pushed my trolley over to the car. It was a green car. It didn’t make me feel any better. The tout demanded a tip. I thought that was unfair as he’d barely pushed the trolley for 20 metres, but the taxi man was there backing him up and I was all alone. I took out my wallet and handed over my smallest US currency, $10. Bad idea. His expression brightened, and he did not attempt to bargain for more money. For all that I’d spent only a short time in Africa, I knew that was a bad sign.

I asked how much it would cost to get to the lodge, unsure how far I could stretch my US currency before running out entirely. I needed to sort my phone out asap. I agreed to a US$40 fare, and got in the car.

I was shaking, and clutching my belongings close to me. Everything about this situation screamed danger, but I could not find it in me to extract myself. There was no help for me back at the airport. There was no-one else I could ask. I had to go on.
As we drove, I asked the taxi driver if he knew where I could get a SIM card. He stopped in at a petrol station, and said he would get one for me. I handed over another US note, with no little trepidation. He went to the petrol station window, and then ran across the road. Just as I was planning what to do if he abandoned me, the driver came back with my SIM, and change in the local currency, Malawian Kwacha. Phew!

He continued on to the lodge without trouble, and insisted I take down his number in case I needed a lift anywhere else. Off he went. I walked up to the entrance. Wenela looked like a bed and breakfast, rather than a hotel or a backpackers. The reception was a lounge/waiting room with a TV and a stereo, and a couple of couches.
A young woman came over as I entered, and asked in slightly shaky English whether I was the person who called that morning to book Room 1. I knew that wasn’t me, but it might have been for me. I asked for a moment to call World Vision, fumbling with my phone and the SIM. In the end, the woman found out for me: the room was mine, and World Vision knew I was there. My heart rate started to drop. I agreed to the room tariff without truly knowing how much it equated to. Learning the exchange rate was next on my to-do list.

I was shown my room. It was very large, if a little strangely decorated. It came with its own ensuite including toilet and shower, a large queen bed and a mosquito net. There was a wall of cupboards, electric lights, a table and chairs and an armchair. A large window looked out on the lawn. In short, it was more than one person needed, although it would be good to have a nice hangout. I had 4 days to fill in Blantyre, and only one of them would be taken up with visiting sponsor children.
The electricity was out. I eventually understood that it was not off for good, but just for a few hours. A regular occurrence in Blantyre, apparently. My phone was running out of battery, so I sent word of my safe arrival home, and went in search of a bank. I had travellers cheques to exchange, which I thought would give me enough to cover my accommodation and food.

The lodge staff called a taxi for me. I assumed the driver must be a friend of the staff, as the car that drove up could only be called a car by a huge stretch of the imagination, let alone a taxi.
The windscreen was smashed in several places. I could not understand how it was hanging together. The taxi broke down at the first stop we made, and a local parking warden had to help jump-start it. We found a bank. I couldn’t exchange the cheques. Apparently the person who did exchanges was out to lunch. I would have to wait or come back. I chose the latter, and found an ATM. Thankfully, it gave me money from my credit card without trouble.

Malawian Kwacha comes in ridiculously small denominations. The largest you can get is 500 kwacha. To give you an example, the 4 days accommodation at Wenela Lodge cost around 21,000 kwacha. That’s forty-two 500 kwacha notes. It’s not a few notes you can put carefully away in a wallet…it’s more like robbing a bank: you have huge wads of cash which you have to somehow hide on your person without drawing attention. Getting spending money out from your hiding place is even harder.

Last stop was the supermarket. I bought bread rolls, bottled water, biscuits and chocolate. It took a long time, so I bought a drink for the waiting taxi driver. He had been friendly and helpful, and I felt bad about making him wait. Another mistake, I guess. He took the drink with thanks, but the gift must have confirmed the cultural belief that white people are walking ATM machines.
Back at the lodge, my next mistake was ignorance. I had no idea whether the driver’s asking price for the trip was reasonable or not. I confessed as much to him, and said I would pay what he asked for. He promised that if I rode with him again, he would offer a cheaper rate, because we knew each other. At the time, I believed him.

The electricity was still out at 6pm, when it started to get fully dark. I was starting to resign myself to a very early night, when one of the staff brought in candles. It was kinda romantic, sitting by the window, writing in my journal by candlelight. The bars on the window made me pause though. I tried to sit further behind the curtains, not wanting to be seen. I had made enough stupid mistakes for one day, it was time to start being cautious. I locked my door.

The lights magically came on at around 8pm, and all was right with the world. A dinner of chocolate and rolls sent me off to sleep.

Continued in the next episode...

Malawi - part 3

2009-07-31T00:02:00.000-07:00

I woke naturally around 7.30am, leisurely got ready, and then went to see about breakfast (which came with my accommodation). It was a weird mixture of bread, margarine, a boiled egg and potato oven fries…but I wasn’t about to complain. It was hot and filling, and the tea was plentiful.

I stayed at the lodge most of that day, writing, and washing my clothes…outside in the rain, hehe. Eventually, I plucked up the courage to ring World Vision to introduce myself. I spoke to a friendly sounding woman called Monica. She said she would come to pick me up about 10am the following morning for the sponsorship visit. That done, it was time to explore. I wasn’t up for another ride in the taxi, so I went on foot.

I had seen a sign for the local backpackers, Doogles, on the drive in so I went to see how far it was. It was barely a minute’s walk away, and had a nice looking café/bar, and an outside pool. Unlike other local eating establishments, it actually advertised what food it was selling on a big blackboard, along with prices. The food sounded like home: lasagne, nachos, etc. And they had internet! I was sold. I ordered a coke and a vegetarian lasagne at the bar. When it came out, I almost cried, it was so beautiful. It came out with fresh leafy salad. Real tomato. Lots of lovely cheese sauce. Beautiful.
Later, exploring their internet access, I found a grand total of three computers, one of which looked broken. But it must have been a quiet time, as I had no competition. Facebook wouldn’t work, but my email would, as would my blog site. Small mercies.

I walked down to the local petrol station to see if there were any other options for dinner. I ended up buying a torch and some batteries. Take THAT, unreliable electricity!
It’s a good thing I did, as I would need them again the next night.

All this time, I can’t say I ever felt completely safe. I felt watched as I walked, although the looks did not seem necessarily unfriendly. I walked quickly and with purpose. I didn’t want to stop and chat.

Next morning, Wednesday, I got up a bit earlier and had the same breakfast with a slight variation: the egg was fried. This time I was not alone in the breakfast area, there was a Zimbabwean couple there too. We exchanged pleasantries, and I borrowed their milk jug for my tea.
The rest of that day is a story best told on its own. Suffice it to say that it was an incredible experience, visiting my sponsor kids, their families and the area office. One of the best days of my life.

Thursday came, my last day in Malawi – or so I thought. In the morning, World Vision picked me up again. Today, I would meet the Area Manager who I had not met the day before. She was lovely, we shared tea, and I got a bunch of photos from my visit put on my memory stick. They took me back to the lodge, and we said our farewells. Monica asked me to text her from the airport, so she would know I had got there safely.

My next task was to arrange a taxi for 5.30am the next morning, so I could catch my flight out to Dar Es Salaam. I asked the lodge staff for help, but they seemed busy, and said they would try and arrange it later. I didn’t want to press them; they’d already gone out to get me phone credit twice, which was pretty nice. I went out for another walk, I needed to get money out to pay for my accommodation at an ATM – I’d given up on the bank – and for another internet fix. The closest ATM was at the BP station. It had a guard, but it was in full view of the bus station across the road. Using it was a mistake, I felt it even at the time, but what other option was there?

On the walk to Doogles, I saw the taxi (the one with the bashed in windscreen) waiting with a pile of other cars and drivers. A taxi waiting area. Good to know, I thought. He recognised me, and seemed pleased when I recognised him. I decided it would be a good idea to try and arrange transport for the next day myself. I had to repeat what I wanted a few times, but eventually I felt sure that he understood, and would come and pick me up at 5.30am the next morning. Sorted.

I stopped by the lodge to tell the staff that I was all organised. There were a group of men outside, who greeted me as I went in. On my way out, one of them said “we’re just here, outside for a drink”. I nodded and smiled politely, although I was confused. I was pretty sure we hadn’t met, so why he’d be telling me this, I didn’t know. Another meal at Doogles, beef lasagne this time: oh yeah, I was branching out. I came back to Wenela in the early evening, just as it was starting to become dusk. The men were there, four of them, drinking and chatting. As I went to go inside, one of them said “can I buy you a drink?”

Thus begins the infamous “my mother would kill me” conversation.
Having never actually met these men, I thought it would be unwise to sit and drink with them. But I wasn’t expecting the question, so I had no polite answer. The best I could come up with was “my mother would kill me”. Oh Sarah. Really? Really.

I then had to explain what I meant by that comment. The man, Master was his name, took it rather well, but expressed surprise that someone my age would still be doing what her mother said. Slightly annoyed, I defended my comment. I was in an unsafe position. I was a female travelling alone. Another mistake mentioning that, but now I felt I had to make this man understand that I was being rational, not offensive. I began to enjoy the discussion despite myself, and when a chair was offered, I took it.

I found out that Master, get this, was a pastor. Pastor Master? Oh yes. Hilarious. He introduced me to his friends. They all seemed pretty intellectual, discussing politics and agriculture, and wanting to know about New Zealand. In return I learned some of the history of Malawi, and the reason why the belief that white skin=rich ran so deep. Blame the missionaries. Helping people has its downfalls it seems.

We talked for about an hour and a half, and for the first time since arriving in Blantyre I started to relax. Master brought up the “my mother would kill me” comment several times, teasing me relentlessly. He said, “you do not need to be afraid of Malawians, we are all friendly”. “Do you not have crime?”, I asked? He said they did, of course, but seemed to dismiss the idea all the same. Master and his friends left, and I went indoors to pack, and pay for my stay. I included what I hoped was a reasonable tip.

My clothes were not all dry yet; I hung some up in the bathroom and packed the rest. I wore my dress to bed. Everything sorted, I set my alarm to get up at 5am and went to sleep.

Continued in the next episode...

Malawi - part 4: the day God saved my life

2009-07-31T00:01:00.000-07:00

I have been wary of sharing this part of story. I’m not really sure why. Is it because I don’t want it to taint my memories of my trip? Or is it that I want to protect friends and family from knowing the gritty details?
Both are good reasons to stay quiet, I think.
There is only one thing that makes me change my mind. It is hard to state convincingly that God saved my life without letting you know what he saved me from.

God can get a pretty bad rap of late. Natural disasters, religious tensions, incurable diseases…none of these speak of the love of a father God for his sons and daughters. You don’t see many miracles in the 21st century.

I know I don’t always speak well of him. This is one instance when I can say categorically that God was on my side. He intervened.
---------------

The noise started at midnight.

It was a cracking sound, but also like someone was banging against something. I woke up confused, and sat up in bed to listen. A couple of options went through my mind. Perhaps the door had come open and was swinging shut. No, that wasn’t an option, as I’d locked the door.
Perhaps there was an emergency, like a fire, and the staff were trying to get my attention, or even trying to get me out. I waited.

There was one big crack, and then more noises, different ones. Scuffling and strange voices, talking at once. And running, a stampede. I suppose the light must have come through from the corrider, because I could now see faces of men, strangers, running over to my bed.

My brain was still partially asleep, and trying in vain to understand the situation: the reason why a dozen men had seemingly broken down my door and rushed in…

One of them reached the bed, and started to grapple at the mosquito net that covered me; another said quickly, loudly, “where’s the phone?”.
I started to wail, a sound close to a scream, but it mostly consisted of the word “nooooooooo!”

My brain had finally reached its conclusions as to why these men could be here. In my room. Trying to grab at me. This was it. This was the reason for the bars on the windows and the guard at the gate. This is the situation you consider to be possible, but hope or believe will never happen to you. My wail was one of sudden understanding and disbelief, as well as outrage and fear.

One of the men grabbed hold of the phone in my hand, and started to pull. My instinct was to struggle, still wailing. Another man said quietly, matter-of-factly, “no, we will kill you”.

No. We will kill you. Those five words changed everything. I believed him. I believed they could do it easily. I did not even register that they had weapons. My imagination did not supply a method, simply the truth that if I did not shut up, I would die.

I shut up.

The man finally forced the phone from my hand. I was helpless. “Where’s the money?” he barked at me. I pointed to my packed bags, “over there” I said. They got to work. I realised that all this time, men had been coming and going; they now started to carry away my things, and search through cupboards. I watched them, silently. One of them turned on my torch and took it with him.

They went out in in drips and drabs, coming back in a couple of times. Eventually it was quiet. I was alone.

I got out of bed. Possibly a stupid idea, but I figured I had nothing to lose. I could stay there no longer. It dawned on me that no-one had come running when I screamed. It was so quiet. I started to consider the possibility that everyone else was dead.

I stumbled into the light of the corridoor. It hurt my eyes. I couldn’t stop shaking.
I stopped at the first doorway I came to. It was another guest room, with the door open. I looked inside.

There was the face of another woman, a slim middle-aged woman, a “mzungu” (white-skinned person) like me. She looked at me wordlessly for a moment, and then, seeing how much I was shaking, she held out her arms. She gave me a tight hug, and I felt some of the tension ease. She began to tell me what the men had taken from her, in a whisper. We wondered together if they were gone.

We found out soon; they weren’t gone. Three of them came again, asking the same question, “where’s the money?”. Here I was glad of the woman – Karin’s – presence. She was so calm. She explained to the men slowly and quietly that they already had all her money, “please” she said “we have given you everything”. They obviously did not believe her because they came to search us, looking, I suppose, for hidden stashes of cash or valuables. It was scary and shaming, and mercifully quick. We were obviously not hiding anything.
They went, and another man came back. Same question. Lack of organisation, we supposed later. This one gestured to me and said “you, come with me”. Horrified, I cried out “no!”. I expected an angry response, and to be dragged out kicking and screaming…to what end I wasn’t sure. Instead, Karin simply repeated her plea, “please, leave us alone, you have everything”. Incredibly, the man left without a word.

One more time they came back. One man gestured for us to stay sitting, saying “cool, cool” with his arm extended, palm down. I never expected to be told to remain calm by an attacker. It was surreal. On one level, my mind was actually amused, and strangely gratified.

Then silence once more. Karin and I waited, possibly five minutes. We wondered if this time, they were really gone. Eventually I could wait no longer, and started creeping towards the door. And heard voices. I felt sick. They were still here.

But it wasn’t them after all. I peeked around the corner and saw the Zimbabwean guy I’d met at breakfast, talking to another man, also a guest at the lodge. They were discussing whether it was safe to walk over to the police station yet. Yes, that’s right. The police station was in walking distance. They decided to see if the neighbour behind the lodge was there instead.

The bad men were gone, but it felt like any minute, they would come back. The lodge could not protect us. There was nowhere safe.

I walked into the reception and saw one of the lodge staff on the ground. He had been gagged and tied up, and was being released by the other guests. Interestingly, the robbers had taken the cushions off the couch and put them on the floor for the man to lie on. Was this compassion? I couldn’t tell. They had taken the TV and the stereo, leaving wires sticking out of the wall.

I heard later that my decision to give the lodge guy my payment that night might have saved his life. He still had the cash on him when the men came. Certainly it was at least as much money as they would have found in my bags. What would have happened if he’d had nothing to give them?

The police arrived. They wandered around, looking largely disinterested. I was waiting for them to acknowledge me and the rest of the guests, to express sympathy, to ask questions about what happened…that sort of thing. In the end, all they did was recommend we write down what had been taken, and come into the station at 8am the next day to write a statement. I’m trying to remember whether they were carrying guns. If they were, I didn’t care enough to be scared. These were not police, not as I understood the word. They would not protect us.

The neighbour behind Wenela was awake, and she came over to see how we were doing. I found out later that she was the daughter of the lodge owner. She graciously let us use her cellphone to text family/friends. The only number I knew by heart was my mother’s and the message did not get through. I decided that was for the best. There was not much anyone could do at that time. We all needed sleep, but there was no way I was going back to my bed. I went back into the room to get my chocolate. At least I could share that around and be of some help. I found blood on the sheets, obviously one of the men had been injured. I thought about how important that sort of evidence would be for police in New Zealand, and how obviously little it meant in Malawi.

I turned over the bedspread absently. There I found my iPod, sitting innocently. It had been missed in the rush. I picked it up triumphantly. This was a prize, and they had missed it. They had taken my phone, my pack, my ukulele, my journal, my money bag, my passport wallet, my camera, my pills, my airplane tickets, everything I needed to get home, as well as every memory of my trip thus far. But they did not have this. I checked the bathroom. I also had at least one other change of clothes, and my shoes. Small mercies again.

I listened to Eric Wainaina’s Sawa Sawa on repeat, letting the lyrics “you’re alright, you’re okay” sink in. The other guests were sharing their own experiences. We were all shaken or angry, but still thanking God for how lightly we got off. I heard the gate man had been tricked and tied up, but not killed. No-one had died. The Malawian man, the guest, had been hurt but not too badly. I felt glum though. I was now entirely at the mercy of whoever decided to help me. If that was no-one, then I was really in trouble. I prayed. God, please help me. Later, after hearing that the other guests had lost even the shoes off their feet, and didn’t even have travel insurance, I prayed that not only would God help me but that somehow he would help me help them.

It’s not often that I can say a prayer has been answered without the word “coincidence” lurking over my shoulder. I could this time.

Morning came, and some of the guests looked around outside to see if the robbers had abandoned anything. I thought this was pretty pointless – why would they leave anything behind that they had a hope of selling or using? Lord knows they needed anything they could get. In the night, the other guests had remembered that few of them had shoes, and one had no shirt. One had left behind a hat with holes in it. I hadn’t noticed their poverty.

Someone passed me a black bag. It looked a lot like my money bag, and it was. Woah. The cash was gone, but there were several items still inside:

1. My notebook. This had memories of my first days in Kenya, my passport details, and the names/numbers of friends/family, including the numbers for World Vision in Blantyre

2. My memory stick. This had a scanned image of my passport and my plane tickets, complete with electronic numbers, plus all my photos from my time in Kenya copied from my camera

3. My credit cards. Two of them. In short, the means to buy plane tickets, alternative accommodation, clothes if I needed them. And the ability to help some of the other guests to get home.

Before I left NZ, my church gifted me with some money. While in Blantyre, I heard from another friend who had given me another sum of money, to help with my trip. These two donations helped the young Zimbabwean couple to get clothes, accommodation, food, and travel back home. None of that money came from me, but the means to help them had. Answered prayer: affirmative. Remarkable.

There is much more to this story, such as our visit to the police station, and being rescued by my adoptive “Malawi mum” and her incredible family. But I am tired of writing now, and you are probably tired of reading.

I will leave that for next time.

For now, kia kaha. I can say “be strong” to anyone without fear of being unreasonable, because I know of a God who saves lives, and makes good experiences come from bad ones. Check him out, I hear he works pretty reasonable hours.

Sarah

PS: one last thought. I met the taxi driver again after the robbery. Either he’s a bad man (ie. he was “in” on it) or he’s a simple one, because he claimed that I asked to be picked up at 5.30PM, not AM. So I would probably have missed my flight anyway. Interesting, that.

thank you letter

2009-06-29T16:35:00.000-07:00

Dear Sarah
I write this letter to say thank you for visiting our family on 22nd April 2009.

This date will never get out of my mind it has been great honour.

Secondly, thank you for the gifts a ball, pens and balloons. I enjoy using the pens at school.
I also play netball with colleagues during my free time after classes.

My grandmother and mum wish you well.
Greetings from the family.

God bless you.

it's been a while...

2009-06-13T19:26:00.001-07:00

I've been slowly working away on writing up my journal. Hoping to finish this sooner rather than later, or I'm gonna forget everything!

In the meantime, I've done a short writeup on my volunteering experience on the All Saints website entitled: I never intended to go to Africa. Hehe, so true.

love huggies xx

introducing Maina...

2009-05-25T00:53:00.000-07:00

I found this video on Youtube by accident... here is little Maina, on a swing at the orphanage in Kenya.

The swing wasn't there when I volunteered (I think they had to make room for a new driveway/gate to protect the kids), but Maina hasn't changed a bit. Even though I probably have more photos of him crying than laughing, hehe.

Enjoy!

home?

2009-05-23T02:43:00.001-07:00

I've been home for a couple of weeks now. Longer in fact...I touched down in Auckland on the 4th of May...what's that, almost three weeks?

Time flies.

Interestingly, I don't quite feel home yet. I am settled back into my old life, but it doesn't feel quite the same. Almost, but not quite.
Perhaps that is a good thing. I'd like to think I've changed over my trip, so life here shouldn't be the same. And part of me fights being settled too. I don't want to stagnate.

Good things:

Facebook. It prevents me from being completely cut off from the people who I saw on a daily basis in Kenya, and who I miss a LOT.

Gratitude. Although I have lost a little of my worldview, I can still remember cold showers, unreliable electricity and baaad roads. Not to mention an unvaried diet, and seeing small children play with pieces of glass and metal, rather than toys. I know we have it good here. Boy do we have it good... :)

Goals. A good friend of mine encouraged me to set some before I left Kenya. So far, I've only started on one, but it's better than the goals I didn't have before :D

Positivity. Not doing so brilliantly on this one, but again I'm trying. I learnt a lot about joy in Africa, and how little it has to do with having what you want, or even what you need. And yeah, I kinda knew that before I left, but witnessing it kinda makes it sink in more.

Family/friends. I've had a LOT to work through since I came home. I still haven't sorted my insurance claim from the robbery. I have a tax rebate to apply for. I have people to write to and thank. I have sponsor kids to get in touch with. I have memories to capture. I have items to replace and a room to clean. Throughout all this, my family/friends have been incredibly supportive. Shout out to my mum who gives me the kick in the beeeehind when I put things in the too-hard basket. Heh.

Not so good things:

Sad news. A friend from Kenya gave birth to a little baby boy on Tuesday night. The night before last, he passed away. I have no idea why. This woman has been through a lot in her life already, and this seems like an incredibly unfair way to repay her fighting spirit.
I remember one day, I witnessed the raw grief of a Kenyan woman who had lost someone dear to her. She was standing in the street, wailing and crying. I imagine my friend now feels the same way. How do you comfort someone in such grief? What do you do with all the questions?
My only answer is prayer. Kia kaha Ruth.

Missing. Missing people, missing the sun, missing the environment I was in, even though at times I hated it. In particular, my homestay family in Kenya, my adopted family in Malawi, my fellow volunteers, and particularly my big bro Mike. I never expected to think of them so often. I have plenty to keep me occupied, but still too much time to think. You always want what you don't have, eh? ;)

Chocolate. Yes, I said chocolate. I gave up my Friday Treat rule before I left for Africa (which was a good idea). But I find I haven't changed in this area. I still lack the switch on my head that says "too much, stop now". Maybe I need to pray about it. Feels kinda silly, but meh.

Sleep. I seem to be determined not to settle into New Zealand time. I stay up ridiculously late, and then expect to be able to get up in the morning. Stupid.
I will be finishing this post very soon, so I can actually go to sleep at a reasonable hour.

So when will I write up my adventures in Africa? Well, I have written about half of my journey up in my journal. Yes, hand-writing is time consuming, but I think it's important to get my thoughts down organically, without worrying about editing out the silly bits. There will be plenty of those. So when I finally write up this stuff, hopefully my thoughts will have had a fair bit of refining, and the end result will actually be enjoyable/make sense.

For the moment, I'll leave you with a couple of cute memories from Kenya:

First, here's a game of "what's the time Mister Wolf?" at the orphanage (note the number of wolves...the kids loved doing the chasing as much as they loved being chased!)

And this is a kid doing the cutest impression of a bunny rabbit that I've even seen, hehe:

How can you not love that smile? Beautiful children.... :)

That's all for now. More later.

love
Sarah xx

Look over here!

2009-05-05T20:31:00.001-07:00

Hi readers! I decided to post briefly on my other blog instead of this one, cos I have HEAPS to say about the trip, and it's gonna take a while to get it all down about this Africa Pipe Dream.

But never fear, I will be getting words, photos and other fun stuff together so you can all share in my amazing, crazy trip to East/Southern Africa.

w00t!

love Sarah xx

safe at home!

2009-05-03T17:36:00.001-07:00

Hi all. I arrived safely in Auckland this morning, having spent almost 24 hours in the air. They were a peaceful 24 hours though, with lots of nice plane food and friendly airline people. I even got upgraded to premium economy for the last flight, which was cool.

I can't write much now, as I really need to catch up on sleep, but just wanted to say thanks again for prayers. They really did work, as I'm here and well and feeling pretty good :)

love huggies xx

Safe in Nairobi :)

2009-05-01T00:49:00.000-07:00

And in fact, I need to write so much more about Malawi, because there was so much more to it than being robbed.

I was adopted by the Macheso family (Monica Macheso works for World Vision in Blantyre) and they took SUCH good care of me. Not to mention making sure I had photos from my sponsorship visit. So I can still show you my kids!! :)

I fly out of Nairobi tomorrow afternoon, and then I'm in the long haul to Auckland. Prayers for a clear run through customs would be much appreciated...and for those of you who have already been praying about that, thank you. It got me into Nairobi. I had to go to a few different desks, but eventually I got through without too much humming and haaaing.

I have so many stories to share, it's gonna take me about a month to process everything I think. Not to mention write it out in my new journal. Can't wait to share it all with you.

Hope you're all well
love
huggies xx

robbed

2009-04-25T03:29:00.000-07:00

While in Blantyre, Malawi, I was robbed during the night at my lodge.

My NZ phone, vodafone phone (which isn't even mine), my bags, money and passport were all taken.

I hope nobody has been too worried, I am perfectly okay. World Vision Malawi is taking very good care of me, and I hope to fly out to Dar Es Salaam tomorrow, and from there find my way back home.

With much love
huggies xx

PS: thank you so much to those who have been praying for me. I feel the answer to these prayers in my health, in the fact that the thieves left my credit card behind (!!!) and that I still have a flash card with many photos from my trip so far. Please continue to pray, you are helping me out BIG TIME!! :)

Blantyre, Malawi

2009-04-21T07:38:00.000-07:00

I made it to Malawi! This was no mean feat, as my original flight was cancelled and took some string pulling to re-book. The airline even had to put me up in a hotel for 4 hours between flights for a sleep so I wasn't waiting around the airport. The hot shower and soft pillows were a dream come true...ahhhh.

Landing in Lilongwe wasn't so bad, as I met a Ugandan man who was an angel, showing me where to go and helping me to not panic. Bless him.

Not so when I landed in Blantyre. The airport is small and the minute I got out of the terminal a guy decided to push my trolley 40 metres for me and demand a tip. He also got me a taxi that didn't look much like a taxi. There were no other transport options available, so I really had no choice. I was pretty darn freaked out!

All worked out well though. The taxi driver was very friendly, and even went the extra mile to get me a new SIM card for my phone on the way to the lodge. I think he overcharged me by local standards...but it was a pretty long trip from the airport so I can't really begrudge him that. Particularly as he accepted US dollars instead of local currency.

The next challenge was the lack of electricity at the lodge. I have a nice big room with an ensuite bathroom and a big soft bed...but this did not look very inviting without power. It sounds like they get power cuts often here. The staff are very friendly though too, and brought me candles and matches to see by until the power came on.

I'm writing this from the local backpackers down the road, and from that perspective, my lodge is ideally situated. I really don't want to be in a backpackers, but I'm loving the internet being close by, and the cafe that makes a delicious vegetarian lasagne (anything other than bread, biscuits and chocolate is a good thing...I've been living on carbs!).

Tomorrow is my visit to my sponsor children in Mikolongwe. I hope it goes well, I'm very excited about it!!

A quick shout out to anyone out there who's been praying for me. I know you are, because there are so many things that have almost gone wrong, but then gone stunningly right. I can only put that down to God at work, I'm really having to rely on him here. No friends, no local knowledge, hoping no-one decides to take advantage of a girl travelling alone...and I'm still here and well.

One last word...I decided to get "married" in Kenya. Hehe, translation: I bought myself a ring to wear on my ring finger. I've discovered that white-skinned females are very appealing to the young men here, and although I appreciate the friendship and attention, I'd rather they didn't get the wrong idea. Better to set them straight to start with eh?

Love to you all
Sarah xx
(aka "muthoni"...my Kikuyu name, given to me by my host family. It means "one who has come from outside the family...like an in-law. Apparently it also means that they should be finding me a husband within their extended family...lots of jokes made about that one!)

Still alive

2009-04-14T01:29:00.000-07:00

Hiya from Kikuyu, Kenya!

For those of you without Facebook, you might have wondered whether I'm still alive. This is the first chance I've had to access internets in over 2 weeks. And sorting out cellphone stuff was pretty difficult too. But it's been pretty fantastic all the same, particularly the safari to Masai Mara and Lake Nakuru. I've met some incredible people too, and am glad to be surrounded by such caring friends both at home and here in Kenya.

I won't write much here, but I want to give a very late but heartfelt shoutout to Natasha...I'm so sorry I missed contacting you for your birthday! :( Have been thinking of you and hope all is well at MSD. Big hug, and I'll see you real soon !

Love to you all, hopefully I can post again from Malawi
Sarah xx

Hong Kong

2009-03-27T07:53:00.000-07:00

Well I made it here in one piece, yay!

The airport was big and a little confusing, but on the whole Hong Kong caters extremely well to English-speaking tourists. The bus/train systems are only overwhelming because they're so big - everything's laid out well with signs and lights and everything.

I am well settled into Cynthia's apartment in Sheung Wan, and she is taking very good care of me, making sure I get plenty of sleep. In fact, I'm about to go do some more of that pretty soon!

Had dinner tonight with some people from Cynthia's church at a BBQ restaurant. We sat outside and it was a really nice atmosphere. Is so strange to see Chinese-looking people speak English with a London accent, and European people speaking Chinese. It's a real mix, and so lovely to be able to talk easy with everyone. I even found a girl who's as fond of potato as I am!!! (that's Gemma, an English girl living in Hong Kong, teaching English at an International School).

Have been on the train and bus system now. Trains are VERY fast and smooth in comparison with Wellington ones. Had breakfast at McDonalds this morning, heheh. Typical :)

There is plenty of food being sold in the shops that I just don't recognise, but hopefully after a few days I'll become more acclimatised.

Right, time for sleep.

Thinking of you all in NZ, and missing you. Time goes quickly, but there are moments when I think about home and the people I know, and wish you were around.

Ivan, I met a Chinese guy called Ivan today, hehehehe. Although he went to uni in the US, so he didn't sound very Chinese.

Sleep!

Goodnight.

Goodbye

2009-03-25T11:00:00.001-07:00

No, I haven't finished packing. Yes, I realise it's kinda important ;) We'll get there.

I have no idea how often (if at all) I'll be able to update this blog, but I'll do the best I can.

See you in six weeks.

huggies xx

Packing

2009-03-24T10:52:00.000-07:00

Today is packing day. And shopping day. And spraying my clothes with permethrin day. And photocopying day. And trying not to stress out day.

Plus, it's my last full day in Wellington. I can't say it's my last full day in the country because I don't fly out from Auckland until 2355 tomorrow.

Strangely, my mind is occupied with strange thoughts like, do girls shave their legs in Africa? And how gross is my hair going to look after a week of not washing?
Yeah. I'm really focused on the important issues right now, like making sure I'm ready to look after small children in Kenya. Really.

This past week has been weird all over though. I thought my last week would be so much more...planned out. In control. Not the same as every working week and weekend.
I can still close my eyes and pretend I'm not going anywhere tomorrow. It would be easy to miss the plane, and then the world would continue as I know it.

A big part of me wants that right now.

But I'm hoping to discover a sense of excitement about this adventure. Because it is an adventure, and my big OE, and a dream come true.

Don't anyone let met forget to pack my underwear, will you?

Sigh. I just know I'm going to FAIL packing.

Paddy's day comes late this year

2009-03-15T21:40:00.000-07:00

Do you ever find that St Patrick's day sneaks up on you?

You're super keen to get into the St Pat's spirit: to wear green (or orange, or white), leprechaun and four-leaf-clover paraphernalia, drink Guinness and dance around, replacing threes with trees and thinking with tinking (literally and metaphorically)...all that jazz.

[...or do I mean, all those JIGS! (groan)
Oh the opportunities for puns and lame humour at the expense of the Irish. Snakes!]

But, year after year, March 17 slips by without letting you in on the fun.
You arrive at work, school, or your living room, wearing red, black, blue or any other non-green colour.
You're so caught up with the business of life, that you miss every single St Paddy's celebration, and so spend an evening of gloomy envy, watching the result of Irish-flavoured antics on the news, and wishing you could have joined in.

Sigh.

Well, you're in with the luck of the Irish this year (oh will the cliches never stop?!).

St Paddy's Day is going to come twice!

That's right, not only is this your early reminder that TOMORROW, March 17, is St Patrick's day,
but wait, there's more,
there will be a SECOND St Paddy's day on Monday 23rd of March!

Why, you ask?

Well, apparently I'm going to Africa in a little over a week, and people want to, like, say goodbye or something.
Fancy that.

What: St Paddy's Day II (aka. goodbye Sarah)
Where: Molly Malones pub, Cnr Taranaki St and Courtney Pl, Wellington
When: Monday 23rd March, from 6.30pm until late - "late" being 11pmish.
What: Bring your good Irish spirit and maybe even your fake Irish accents for an evening of...um...something. You can even dress up if you like. Green is good. So is orange and white.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

Q. Sarah, what does St Patrick's day have to do with you leaving for Africa?
A. Well, nothing really. But you know how obsessed I am with green things. I'd like to see YOU think of a better idea!

Q. Sarah, you're having a goodbye party in a bar. But I'm not 18 yet!!
A. Yes, that is a bit silly of me. But I'm hoping most of the sub-18 year olds I know might be coming with parents or guardians. And Monday is a quiet night, so I'm hoping no-one will be too picky at the door.
In short: come with grownups, and if you can't get in...um...give the puppy dog eye look to the doorman?
Do NOT attempt to buy beer...you'll get me in trouble!!

Q. I'm easily bored: is anything fun gonna happen?
A. Well, that depends on your definition of fun. You can probably have a nice pub meal if you're on the peckish side (and you have some money).

You can talk to me and hang out with other fun people. You could bring cards to play at the tables. Aaaand, you could bring an instrument cos after 8.30pm a for-real Irish seisiun will start up, with jigs and reals and ballads a-plenty. I recommend percussion instruments (spoons / shakers), as well as guitars, whistles, violins, flutes, squeezeboxes and kazoos.

It would be useful if you actually know how to play said instruments...otherwise you might find people glaring at you a little while you screech away at your recorder solo. Air guitar might be safer. Just saying...

In case you're interested, here's a list of songs often played at Mollys. They're from the book Begged, Borrowed and Stolen, but you can probably find music online somewhere.

Q. Can we / should we bring presents and / or goodbye cards?
A. Hehehehe. Can you bring presents? Is the Pope Catholic?! (ahhh....they just keep coming).

Please do not feel obliged to bring ANYTHING besides yourself, but if you feel inclined, here's a list of things I still need/want

Q. Sarah, we know you're an introvert...are you actually going to turn up, or is this a trick?
A. Fair call. I "guarantee" that I will be there from 6.30pm until at least 9.00pm. Potentially later, depending on how it goes. If no-one I know turns up, obviously I won't necessarily be sticking around :D

Q. Can I bring a friend (or seven?)
A. Sure! Just remember, your friends, my friends, and the usual patrons need to fit comfortably fit in the pub. I haven't booked the pub for private use, I've just decided to invade it.
I'm expecting it to be somewhat of a "rolling" event where people arrive and leave when they please. Blah blah.

Q. Is it upstairs at Molly Malones (ie. the Dubliner) or downstairs at the pub?
A. At the moment, I'm thinking downstairs...but that could change, depending on...things. I dunno.
I'll post an update if the venue's gonna change, cool? Cool.

That's enough blather. Bring on the craic!

PS: in case you haven't seen me in the last couple of days, I've hacked off my hair...so look for a Sarah with less hair.

(now go sort out your outfit for tomorrow...go on!!)

yay...boo...yay

2009-03-09T00:41:00.000-07:00

For those of you familiar with the term "God, booty, God" from the SCL blog, here's my (backwards) take on it.

YAY

I almost lost my international flights booking (not the yay part yet).
This is because I hadn't paid for them.

I intended to pay for them. I even went as far as to transfer much of my savings into my credit card (what..? I get airpoints, and it's a big spend!).
Only, that approach kinda backfired on me. My money got lost in translation. It was in the process of transferring from one bank's account to another, and so it kinda looked like I had none at all. The travel agent tells me I have to the end of the day or the flights will be gone. Noo!

Muuuum! Help!
My parents are great. They share money with me even when I don't really have it to pay back yet. So the yay is that I didn't have to rebook my flights days later, when they could be lots more expensive. Phew.

BOO

This is only half a boo. The half yay part is that the bank likes me, and wants to give me money. Which is good cos I kinda need it.

The boo part is that I've been debt free for long enough now to kinda like it. My money is my money.
Not anymore. My money is the bank's money. And will be for some time after my trip.
And given the (eeeeek!) interest rate, there will be quite a bit of money going from me to the green machine. *cough* extortion*cough*.

But I need to harden up, and remember that my money's never been my money. Technically, it's God's. And if he thinks I need it, then he'll send it along. And if he wants me to be indebted to the bank for the rest of my life, then he will.
In fact, that's very likely...it's called a mortgage.

YAY

This is only half a yay, in the same way that the boo was only half a boo (are you following still? ;) ). Good.

The yay and the boo is that there are 17 (that's seventeen) days until I fly away.

If I unpack that further (to use a preaching term):
- 17 days to get everything sorted... and there is a LOT to sort
- 17 days to catch up with important people before I don't see them for weeks and weeks
- 17 days to try and stifle panic and unease that I'm doing something really stupid and unnecessary and I should just stay at home where it's safe and I can't worry anyone (including myself).

Blah blah blah.

But 17 days until I get to go on the trip of a lifetime, and actually do something big and exciting and scary for a change. Stop being such a sloth.

So there you have it. An update. Enjoy.

panic

2009-03-01T15:14:00.000-08:00

panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic...

I figure if I type that word enough times, it might help purge the feeling :)

It is now March, and there are (theoretically) 24 days until I fly to Africa.

Who sped up the clock?

Sheesh!

I have a working itinerary now, which I need to check with World Vision. If I get the green light, I'll be booking my flights before this Thursday.

I've finally paid my program fee for my volunteering in Kenya.

I've given up on getting visas before I go, so those of you with a hotline to God, prayers around not getting held up or deported would be most helpful.

Good news: I get to visit an old friend in Hong Kong! I'm doing a short stop-over both there and back, and it looks like I picked the right days too (weekend rather than work days), so Cynthia will have to put up with a mad-crazy Sarah for a little while, hehehe.

Should I go to Disneyland? Seems a bit lame on my own...

Things I need to do in the not-too-distant future:
- book my safari trip
- stay in touch with friends of friends in Tanzania (so I don't end up being a no-mates for my few days in Dar Es Salaam)
- get a bank loan
- get travel insurance
- get life insurance...morbid, but necessary
- figure out gifts I can bring small children and my host family
- sort out lots of camera disks
- learn my ukulele...and decide if I'm gonna bring it
- figure out moneys (cash/cheques/cards blah blah)
- sort out lugguage
- ask people to pray lots
- get a haircut
- have a farewell party :) [tentatively on the 21st of march]

There's heaps more where that came from, but that's what's in my mind at the moment.

until next time
tutaonana upesi
huggies xx

The list of things I need / want

2009-03-01T00:00:00.000-08:00

A sleeping bag liner
Power adapters to make my appliances work in Hong Kong, Qatar airport and Africa
Crafty stuff for the orphanage: card, masks, stickers, balloons, the sort of thing that would work for a Light Party is the sort of thing I'm after. Can't be too heavy though ;)
Money...yeah, makes the world go around :D US currency is nice; anything helps. [Thanks Simon :) ]
A netball to give to one of my sponsor kids, and a pump/needles (my boss already donated a football...w00t!)
Laminated pictures of All Sainters (so I can put them in a card and give them to the folks in Kagera who ended up with one or more water tanks thanks to the water tank project 2007 . Incidentally, if you were part of that project, it would be cool to bring them a big letter/card that we all sign...maybe I'll bring some paper to the St Paddy's Day evening
Ideas / chords for songs to learn on ukulele to teach the kiddies
Ideas on how to amuse children when they get bored...
Camera memory sticks...camera brand to come
A teeny tiny address book that I can carry in my belt pack
Top ups for my loan Vodafone phone
An extra battery for my loan Vodafone phone (brand/type to come...I think it's a Nokia)
iTunes credit...what? It's always nice to have extra sounds on the big adventure
NZ flavoured stuff to give as gifts to people I like / stay with. Nothing big, heavy or breakable
Skittles and muesli bars...in case airport food is scary
Prayer. Prayer. Prayer. Prayer. Solo prayer. Group prayer. Razzle Dazzles. Prayer with candles. Prayer in cars. Prayer on the street. Prayer at church. 1 sec prayer at work/school/home. Every flavour of prayer you can offer. God seems to like it, and I'd really like to be under God's protection, as that's kinda what I'm relying on for this whole trip!

That's it for now. Bear in mind that most of these are "wants" not "needs" :) Thanks!!

ow!

2009-02-26T01:44:00.000-08:00

in short...

- vaccinations, done
- first aid kit, done
- tetanus hurts!
- flights...no, but not for lack of trying
- nshamba, tanzania is 85km away from the nearest town...don't try and visit for longer than a day
- visas, none...need flights to be sorted first, really
- i am ishirini saba (27)
- today is alhamisi (thursday)
- tomorrow is ijumaa (friday)

Ha! I'm early :)

2009-02-17T20:05:00.000-08:00

I hope you noticed, accountability friend.

Current status: let's sort these flights out STAT!
Current mood: stubborn persistence

Bus, plane, train or...hitchhike...around Africa?

I've been asking around for travel advice from various agents without much real progress, either cos I gave up when the agents hadn't been to Africa, or because they pointed me in the direction of Lonely Planet for travel advice.

Incidentally, I won't be getting travel advice from Lonely Planet. According to Lonely Planet, one of the features of my destination is Lake Malawi. I could go snorkling, swimming, all those good splashy things. A swim in a lovely cool lake when the sun is hot and baking - great idea, right?

Well, according to the nurse at my travel doctor, WRONG. Lake Malawi has parasites. Microscopic ones that enter your body through your skin. They can be killed off with a drug when in your bloodstream, but if they feel so inclined, the parasites can hang out in your liver awhile instead. When they get bored, they can come infect your blood. Like, maybe, 6 months after you get home. Hmmm.

Any readers of my other blog, alphabetasaurus will know I don't like parasites. In fact, they're part of the reason I've been so worked up about Africa and clean water these last few years.

Anyways. Having chatted with a couple of seasoned travellers, I learned that travelling by bus or train through Africa as a single white female is not a smart idea, and I should fly, fly, fly....fly everywere.

I eventually took a pot shot and put an enquiry in on the Flight Centre website. Got a call from a lovely chap who has been busy as a beaver in trying to sort out the bestest, cheapest flights.
He's having to work pretty hard, cos apparently, you really need to pick your days when flying in and around Africa. This airline only goes on Thursday and Sunday. This one likes Monday. There's no getting out of Mwanza on Saturdays, and you can't take an 8.35am flight out when you get in on the ferry at 8am... etc etc.

Not that this is news to me, but I do feel bad to be so insistent on how many days i want to spend in each place. But then, why travel halfway around the world to meet your sponsor kids, only to rush off 5 minutes later to catch a plane? Doesn't seem right.

Throughout all this, my boss has been an absolute saint. I'll have to leave earlier and come back later than I originally planned. He says, fine, whatever you need to do. Next time I complain, someone remind me how good I've really got it :)

PS: I have a mozzie net now. A big one. Permethryn treated, which is good if you want to kill mozzies. Apparently I'm supposed to.

PPS: I also have a crafty little bag that folds up into a pocket. Packing is going to be fun...

PPPS: Calling all seasoned travellers I haven't pestered yet... is Hong Kong a fun place to stop over? What about Bangkok? Any news on Doha in Qatar? I could be seeing all these places...or at least, the airport parts :) Any advice/thoughts/pointers would be most welcome.

all jabbed up and nowhere to go

2009-02-12T00:22:00.000-08:00

The good news:

World Vision in Nshamba (Kagera, Tanzania) want me to come visit!

The bad news:

I still have no idea how/where/why/what to get between countries.
Flights are not booked.
Visas are not organised.
Programme fees not paid.
And I ran out of steam learning Swahili.

The...blah news:

2 rabies, 2 hep b, 1 polio and 1 yellow fever shot down

1 rabies, 1 hep b, 1 hep a/typhoid, 1 tetanus...and possibly two others to go. Plus malaria pills.
Joy.

Don't anyone smack me too hard on the shoulders anytime soon. Please.

Accountability

2009-02-10T00:20:00.000-08:00

Yes. This post is late. I'll do better next time.

I have some news, but I'm too tired to post it. It's not that exciting. I'll let you know after I have my second lot of jabs.

making good

2009-02-01T13:41:00.000-08:00

So...for the one person who threatened to keep me to my word (thank you :) ), I have sorted out a consultation with a travel doctor, w00t!

I get to go and fork out heaps of money to them this Thursday. Which isn't Wednesday, but they were pretty busy. Bring on the injections. Yay.

And dantheman (who left me a comment on an earlier post), yes, I am actually going to Africa. :)

too long...

2009-01-29T00:30:00.000-08:00

...since my last post.

Although the inactivity does kinda reflect where I'm currently at with this trip. Inactive.

I think I've been a bit flummoxed about what my next step should be.

I need visas and injections and insurance, right? For that, I need an itinerary. For an itinerary, I need flights. For flights, I need to know whether this mad sub-trip to Tanzania and Malawi is gonna go ahead. For that, I need confirmation from World Vision...who are probably waiting on results from my police vetting thing.
I need to know all that stuff in order to know how much money I'll need, and how much crazy fundraising I'll need to do. At the moment, I'm estimating lots :) That, and/or a bank loan.

And if I get a bank loan, I'll need special life insurance so my loan guarantors don't get landed with extra debt should I happen to die while overseas.

All the while, I've almost completely given up on my language learning, and reading up on the things that actually matter, like the history/culture of Kenya.

So yeah...I've fallen into the usual trap of getting bogged down in the details. Need a shot of faith I think :)
Some new resolutions:

- post on this blog at least once a week. That way, you won't get bored, and I won't lose momentum
- post my things to do, along with due dates. Nothing like internet-based accountability :D

Number 1 on my list of things to do is vaccinations. They say I need an itinerary...but I'm gonna see if I can get away with the bare details. I'm going to these three countries, I will be travelling by land, give me all the shots you can!!

Let's say I'll get that done by...next Wednesday. Good? Good.

Enough for now. More later. All prayers and best wishes gratefully accepted. Along with any good equipment loans (video cameras/good still cameras)...which will definitely be covered by insurance!

I like getting mail :)

2009-01-17T00:22:00.001-08:00

Just got a letter from World Vision, and we're making some progress for visiting my sponsor kids, and maybe even the Kagera ADP!!

I gotta get police checked before they let me visit the kids. Makes sense really.

Things to do:
- make a huge list of things to do!

That's it for now. Habari za jioni, tutaonana upesi!

xx

action!

2009-01-08T00:41:00.000-08:00

Don't let the title of this post fool you...believe it or not, I'm still very very unorganised about this hypothetical African trip. But it is becoming more and more of an actual possibility and less of a dream.

The volunteer agency have sent me a 46-page brochure with all sorts of info in it. I've barely scratched the surface of that, but it's a good read. I don't need to know it all straight away, and it's good to know I can just keep plugging away at it.

There's stuff on Kenyan culture, the places where I might end up, and ideas on how to entertain kids as well as a few teaching tips. I may not end up teaching, but you never know. Parents, don't be surprised if I offer to steal your kids for an evening, just to get into practice!

I also got a link to some free language learning software, which has been fantastic. I've been picking up a little Swahili (or Kiswahili) vocab for the trip, and in fact, I should say: habari za jione (good evening), and lala salama (good night!)

But before I do, I should explain the YouTube video. It's a trailer for the movie "The Constant Gardener", which I saw tonight. It's a fantastic movie, and is all the more cool because much of it was filmed in Kenya, and particularly in Kibera.
I wish I'd known about it before the 100 days, 100 dollars fundraiser.

Anyways, if you get a chance to see it, DO! I liked it, even though it was a thriller. Usually I can't handle the tenseness, but it had a good storyline, and good actors. And it's Kenyaa, Kenya, Kenya, Kenyaaaaaaa!

Asante sana for reading, and lala salama
Until next time xx

Dear Sarah

2009-01-05T22:01:00.000-08:00

"Thank you for applying for the Kenya program...

Congratulations. After checking our positions with our Kenyan partner organisation, we are pleased to inform you that your application has been successful and you have been accepted to begin volunteer work from April 2009."

-----------------------

Eeeeeeeeeeeek!

That was an eek of excitement mixed with sheer terror. But it's very encouraging. My secret fear was that I'd be turned down by the volunteer agency, and then not have the confidence to pursue the rest of my pipe dream.

It's definitely not all plain sailing, at least not yet. I've discovered that my sponsor kids live in a different part of Malawi from what I thought. It's further away, and looks difficult to get to.

Not only that, but getting to Kagera, Tanzania - even assuming that I can track down the school where the water tank ended up - also looks super complicated.

I have no idea how I'm going work that all out.

But it's early days yet. And if I don't end up being able to visit Malawi and Tanzania, at least I'll still have Kenya.

Kenya...kenya, kenya, kenyaaaaaa!

Forget Norway...

2009-01-05T01:22:00.000-08:00

Over the past couple of years, I've been involved with something called 100 days, 100 dollars. The 100 days project raises money to build schools in Africa's biggest slum, Kibera, Kenya.

Earlier in 2007, my church community raised over six thousand dollars to build a water tank in a school through World Vision's Gifts of Hope. The tank eventually ended up in a school in Kagera, Tanzania.

For the past five years (give or take), I've sponsored two awesome kids who live in Mikolongwe, Malawi.

My pipe dream is to visit all three places in one big kick ass Africa trip. And along the way, do a bit of volunteering and safari-ing, just for fun :)

Here's a few of the things that need to happen for my pipe dream to come true:

- money needs to fall from the sky...or grow on trees...
- I need to get leave from my job [shockingly, I've actually achieved this one already]
- I have to be accepted by a volunteer agency
- I need to arrange flights
- I need vaccinations, visas, visa cards/travellers cheques/foreign money, travel insurance, departure taxes, mosquito nets, a mobile phone that works overseas, an awesome camera, safari clothes, a ukulele, presents, anti-nausea pills (for when I eat the wrong food)...etc
- I gotta learn some of the local lingo, so I can at least say "hello, my name is crazy"
- I need to ask World Vision to hook me up with my two sponsor kids and - insanely, if possible - to sneak a glimpse of the school where the tank ended up in Kagera
- I need a plan of attack to navigate across East Africa, cos getting a flight to go directly to Malawi from anywhere is apparently impossible
- like the Lion in the Wizard of Oz, I need a shot of courage. Make that two.

Lastly, and most importantly, I need to pray that God actually wants me to go on all, or some, of this insane journey.

If he doesn't, this blog is gonna get real boring, real quick. I haven't set my hopes on going just yet, and going to three places in one trip is definitely a pipe dream. But you just never know with dreams, do you..?