Welcome to Dar

After about a 3-hour delay, I finally get on a plane in Ethiopia and head to Dar es Salaam. It's a short flight, but when I finally get into Tanzania, it's about 2am and very quiet in the airport. I pay the $200 USD to get my CTA stamp so I can legally volunteer in Tanzania and head to baggage. My suitcase is waiting for me, and since I don't see an ATM, I head to the Bureau de Change window to try and get some shillings so I can pay the cab driver. The women behind the counter is asleep, and I politely say, "hello?" through the small opening in the window. No luck. A guard sees me, comes over, and pounds on the window. The woman moves just enough so we know she is awake. She kind of shuffles over and takes my US cash. There is no sign posted about the exchange rate, so I just assume she has given me the correct amount, smile, say "thank you," and head out the door to find a cab. I ignore the first aggressive driver to approach me and settle on a nice, friendly looking driver. We drive through a dark city towards the Holiday Inn. The area near the airport is very industrial, and I keep thinking, "if it's the Airport Holiday Inn, shouldn't it be closer?" Then, I keep thinking that I am just tired and travel-weary. I should be more patient. The driver asks me some questions about where I am from and what I am doing in Tanzania. He also teaches me my first Swahili word- "karibu"- which means "welcome." (My plan to "learn" Swahili on the plane didn't exactly go as planned, but I did manage to read one of the prep books I brought about a Maasai warrior.) We get to the hotel, I check in, it's about 3am, and I stumble into my room. The nice Arabic-looking desk clerk knocks on my door and gives me my receipt. He tells me of his dream to go to the U.S. and suggests- in more of a friendly way than an aggressive way- that I help him get to America. I politely say, "maybe," and close the door. I turn on the TV, see the familiar face of Anderson Cooper and look for my toothbrush. I hear Anderson reporting about the "Batman shootings" in Colorado and take a moment to think about the irony that I am safer in Africa than I would be in a movie theater at home. I am wide awake despite being exhausted. I feel like I am just falling asleep when I hear a ringing. Am I dreaming? Is that noise in my head? It's the phone? Not my cell phone. Who in the world would be calling me right now? I kind of wake up and the ringing has stopped for a moment. Then, it starts again. Oh, it's the hotel phone. I drowsily answer it and hear a voice saying my ride is here. Confused, I am looking at the clock. I wasn't expecting to be picked up until noon. Then, another voice gets on the phone. It's Didase (whom I would come to adore, but at this moment, I really want to go back to sleep) from CCS apologizing, saying, " I know you have traveled a long way and are tired, but we need to leave now." I groggily say, "Okay. I'll be down in a few minutes." Quickly brush my teeth, put in my contacts, throw on my CCS t-shirt (thank goodness I thought to dig it out before I went to sleep), and hald stumble downstairs. I see some white faces, Didase sees me and takes my suitcase. I appear to be the last volunteer to arrive, and we all climb into a large mini-van to begin the drive to Bagamoyo. Somehow, I stay awake during the ride (shocker to most of you who have seen me pass out minutes after clicking my seat belt) and observe how driving in Tanzania is a lot like playing chicken. I try to take in the smells and sights without worrying too much about getting into a car accident. This is the first time I think that Africa is both exactly like I thought and not at all like I imagined. There is one 2-lane highway to get to Bagamoyo, and we will be there soon. We are on TFT (Tanzanian flexible time)

, so "soon" sounds good.

The smell of Africa

I step off the plane at Addis Ababa airport in Ethiopia, and I am immediately hit by the smell of wood burning. It would become the smell of Africa. I have learned that not many countries outside of the U.S. have a jet way that connects the plane to the airport gate. Addis Ababa is my 1st stop in Africa, and I have one more connecting flight to get to Tanzania. I sleepily follow the crowd down the steps and across the tarmac to get to the airport proper. I vaguely recall seeing a sign in English that said "Connecting Flights," and I stepped aside into a small crowd of mostly white faces. We walk up a flight of stairs and proceed to the small area of departing gates. There aren't any of the usual boards with lists of arrivals and departures, and I hear enough English to find the gate where my flight to Dar ed Salaam will be boarding. At least, I hope it is the correct gate because I am tired, hungry, and a little intimidated by the crowd that is growing hostile as our departure time nears, and there is no airline staff to answer questions lets alone begin boarding. Then, a slight, young man appears is seems very unsure about what to do. His standard answer becomes, "in 30 minutes." It was both funny and unsettling to hear people arguing with the poor gate attendant in English. People were complaining about being stuck with nothing to eat or drink and no place to go to the bathroom. (I later found out that if you leave the gate area of the Addis Ababa airport, you are charged a fee to get back in.) "TIA" is an expression I would hear and read. It stands for "This is Africa." It was sometimes used in exasperation or out of frustration, but mostly I think of it as way to acknowledge cultural differences. I am not in the U.S, so things are going to be unexpected and different. All part of the adventure. This is Africa, and in Ethiopia, I first experienced the smell of Africa.

In 6 months...

I will be celebrating my birthday in Bagamoyo. Considering how fast the month of January has gone, it will be July before we know it. I broke the news to my crew team last night that I'm not going to be around for our big race of the season. I do love the Quaker City Regatta- hang, race, eat, drink beer. Masters' rowing at its finest. Maybe my teammates will still grab me a t-shirt.

This week also marks the halfway point in the school year. After 15 years in the classroom, I should be used to the ebb and flow, but every day my students surprise me. They challenge me to be a better teacher and a better person. I am so grateful to have a job that is truly a career. I love teaching, but mostly, I like being around the most interesting young people. I am hoping to bring some of the spirit of Room 214 with me to Tanzania.

Next step- Fundraising

I am hoping to defray the cost of the program with a little bit of fundraising. The 1st idea I have is that since I will be away for my actual birthday on July 27th, why not celebrate my half-birthday on January 27th? Instead of cake, cards or presents, perhaps people will consider sponsoring me. $5, $10, $20 here and there can start to add up. So, if you are reading, please consider wishing me a "happy half birthday" this month. Hopefully, this link will take you to my sponsor page.