Change of Plan, we are going to Moshi

The road to Arusha was great, the 5 hour ride went by fast thanks to our new friend and temporary guide, Maria.  We’ve known her for just a day now and she has probably saved us close to $700 and so much stress.  In fact, we made an on-bus audible and changed our destination from Arusha to a town another hour from there named Moshi, in the foothills of Kilamanjaro.

First, Maria, who is she?  Where did we find her? 

Sitting across the aisle from us is a woman: white, about our age, and, it turns out, from Portland Oregon.  Some quick stats on Maria.

-          Been in East Africa for 9 months now

-          Is a naturpathic doctor

-          Is returning to Moshi from northeast Kenya where she went to see the refugee camp and basically meet people and do what she could to make them happy

-          Refugee camp est. pop = 300,000 ppl with about 1,500 arriving each day from Somalia due to the drought and famine

-          Teaches yoga at the guest house she eventually sets us up at

-          Works in a small village helping people at a clinic through her homeopathic ways

-          Very experienced in East Africa ways.  Turns out this bus we are on, the Impala, is the safest bus that travels this road from Nairobi to Arusha because of the drivers, they don’t fly down the road overtaking any bike, car, or bus in their way.  (Many thanks to the previous guest house for arranging this)

-          Has a lot of information she shares with us and we have interesting conversations

-          We become fast friends

The Impala has a route that begins and ends at a five star hotels in Nairobi and Arusha, respectively.  Arusha is a main hub for safaris, and though we initially made a plan to get off there, spend the night and arrange a safari, Maria convinced us that since Arusha is notorious for robberies and pickpocketers, perhaps worse than “Nairobbery,” we should follow her to Moshi, a smaller town in the foothills of Mt Kilamanjaro. She set us up in a simple, clean place for $25/night, and put us in touch with her roommate, a Slovak woman who, together with a Tasmanian man, runs Kilamanjaro hikes and safaris. 

So we settle in Moshi, the Kilimanjaro Coffee Lounge, to be exact, it’s a combination coffee lounge and guest house, and Maria’s Yoga Studio.  Moshi is what I would call an African town, somewhere between a city and a village.  There is a main street, dubbed “double way” because cars have two lanes to go each direction.  There are some side streets with outside veggie stands and open storefronts that sell luggage, shoes, tailoring.  There are stores for phones and other electronics and equipment as well. Buildings don’t really exceed three stories. 

Maria called her driver, Baraka, and asked him to pick us up and then drive us to her place to pick her up, and then we would drive to a bar together.  When Baraka answered in English, Maria gave him the instructions in English.  Something was lost in communication because Baraka did not show.  Scared to venture off the steps of our guest house because it was night, we asked one of the guys working at the time if we could purchase units for his phone and call Baraka’s number which Maria left.  The guy runs off into the night and returns with the minutes.  Baraka is “far away.”  We then request our new helper to fetch us a cab.  He disappears again and comes back in the passenger seat of a cab.  We arrive at the Glacier.

The Galcier is pretty much an open area.  In the corner was a shelter where the band was set up, between the bar and the open kitchen under.  Most people mingled by the bar.  We sat in the open field area at red plastic Coca Cola tables and chairs.  There were two projectors on either end of the open space showing soccer highlights. They served us some pretty good curry. 

So far the food has been much better than expected, though we didn’t expect much.  Of note: although there is a “menu” you are served whatever is being prepared that evening. The ride to Glacier felt like we were driving through the suburbs of New Jersey.   Tall shrubs and walls behind which are gated homes. Another example of the disparity of wealth.

At the Glacier the live music is simple.  They pepper their setlist with Bob Marley, traditional African reggae, and some solid early 90s tunes.  They also did a raging “In the Jungle the Lion Sleeps Tonight,” I will now have that song in my head instead of Paul Simon’s “African Skies.”  Shaggy, Hello by Lionel Richie, “And I’m on My Way,” oh it was great.  After the band finished the DJ took over with a 90s dance party.  There was a disco ball of sorts shining circle colorful patterns on the dance floor.  Despite the song selection and there being no more than 8 people on the floor at a time, the patrons were moving well.  Turns out, if you take an East African out of the bush and throw him on the dance floor you’d think he were a Janet Jackson backup dancer.  People here move so well.

Swahili Word of the Day

“Keepie leftie” – roundabout

They drive on the left side of the road here.

The Road to Arusha

On bus typing, about 45 mins outside of Nairobi. 

So much dust.  Smells like the beginnings of a construction site, or an unfinished basement with dirt floors

A downtown strip, so different from any strip I’m used to seeing.  Some business names:  Midtown Supersaver, Samlex Hardware, Paws gas station (this last one actually looks like a western gas station air dropped in this minimalist society).  By minimalist, I mean, there is not much apart from store fronts set back from road so people can park and mill about in front.

Further on down the road….

Lots of buildings in different stages of construction, and others on their way up but appear to have been abandoned mid-creation. Others are actively being worked on-- you can tell the difference.

Then there are these arcades, as if a building from the suburbs was plopped right in the midst of Kenya’s roadside.  The poorest of poor sitting on the side of the road and then a man in a suit on his cell phone. 

I’m guessing that was the downtown, because then the bus picks up speed and now there is just one car in front of us. 

More farmland, though it doesn’t look like anything could grow out there.  Dry and still dusty, lots of brown.  Where is the lush green I’ve been hearing about?  Out in these parts there are random walled-in developments with bright red rooftops and look like a regular place to live, regular from our standards that is.

There was a good amount of cattle, some of which in the act of being herded.  By real shepherds!!  I look up out in the distance and see a vast space of nothingness but a few bushes popping up in the yonder.  Now a woman walking alongside the road carrying a load on her head, walking somewhere…..then a boy on a bicycle, and a runner in jeans….  Now no cars ahead of us.  Not sure where the people are going.

About 2 hours out

The grounds to the left and right are still the brown color of dead grass and dirt, but I’m starting to see the African trees, wide, flat tops, abound.  Just like in the Lion King.  And even out here, in the seemingly nothingness, still seeing people waiting or walking on the sides of the road.  There are no buildings in sight though, or at least they are few and very far between.

Crossing the boarder to Tanzania

We leave everything on the bus, and we all walk into an office, show our passports, get the visa—$100 for US citizens, but it expires after one year, these guys know how to exploit the Americans—walk across the boarder.  It’s very dusty.  Our quick walk into Tanzania changes the color of our shoes to orange.

Tanzania

Things have changed quite a bit.  Mountains off in the distance and sometimes cliffs closer to the road.  Rising elevation.  Still very dry.  Massai people in long red garb along the side of the road and walking in paths about 40 yards from the road which runs parallel to it.  You know the Massai people?  These are the ones you see all the time on National Geographic: long necks, big hoop rings, the occasional bone through the face (we did not see this last one). We learned all sorts of things about the Massai tribe---to be discussed later.

The most amazing thing by far is the women walking with buckets on their heads, no hands.  Sometimes large bags.  I cannot understand this.

We have already forgot the sound of our phone rings.