Where to start? The beginning.

Wow. Where to start?

I am currently sitting in a ‘banda’ in northern Tanzania. Its about 9pm. The air is warm and a bit humid. Outside of the small building that consists of a dividing wall to make two rooms with three beds each and a bathroom, the breeze is soft and comforting. The crickets, or whatever insect they are, are calling out to mates now that the night is upon us. My mosquito net is on my bed, my roommates have crawled in theirs already, and the staff are outside giggling about something in swahili that I cant yet understand. 

I suppose I should start by going over my journey here. On the 28^th of January I arrived at the Madison airport around 8am, after a minor misstep of having to run back home after we were already on our way to grab the watch I am wearing and will probably not take off for the duration of the trip, as it also doubles as my alarm clock for the 7:00am breakfasts we will have every day. I checked in with my mom, and as I hugged her goodbye before I entered security I had to force myself not to start crying, but couldn’t help getting emotional when my mom wished me luck with tears she was working hard to hold back. The flight to Chicago was short and painless on the tiniest plane I have ever ridden, and once I arrived at my terminal in Chicago I had a few hours to relax before my flight. Adam, another person in my group who flew in from MN came to meet up with me around 11:30, an hour or so before we boarded. I felt a bit numb, actually; the reality that I was leaving hadn't really hit me fully. In JFK we arrived hours before our next flight, the one in which we were meeting up for the group flight to London. More of the group trickled in as the hours went by and we repeated introduction and the typical facts about ourselves; “where are you from? Where do you go to school? What is your major?”

                It was about an hour before we were to board our flight to london that I got really anxious and the reality that I was leaving the country to go overseas for the first time set in. my attempts to be social and interact with my new living mates were postponed by my strong need to be by myself for a bit, in my own head, to prepare myself for the upcoming days of travel. As I ate a grilled cheese before we boarded the subject of our malaria pills came up, I realized I had to take mine as soon as possible so I didn’t get sick on the plane ride. I then subsequently remembered my travel doctors warning not to eat diary for an hour before or after  taking the pills. Oops? I took them anyway, and lived to tell the tale! Good ole processed amurrican cheese.

                Any sleep I got on the plane was fitful and short in duration, so I’d bet I got about an hour and a half total. Once at the london airport we decided not to go explore during our 8 hour layover as some people had to recheck their bags and we wanted to stay together as a group. Such traveling noobs haha. I attempted to get a nap in on the loveseat chairs but really couldn’t fit very well and ended up mostly just listening to the commotion and boarding calls around me. I got some food with some new friends, Riley and Nicolette, at a bar/restaurant that looked okay. The waitress was plump and frazzled, speaking softly in a fast paced english accent that I had to strain to understand. I ordered some traditional ‘bangers and mash’ because, well, when in rome, right? It was good… until we got the check. About 50 euros, and we had no idea what the exchange rate was we were struggling to decide what to tip. The plump waitress stopped by our table after being totally absent for about 45 minutes and explained to us that we were paying about 85 US dollars for our meal. Uhhhhh WHAT? Needless to say we were pretty unhappy with that reality. Remind me never to live in a london airport…yikes.

  After hours of killing time we finally we boarded the flight to nairobi and I was just ready to crash—but not before I ate my fantastic complementary dinner. Curried chicken, lentils, rice, and a brownie for desert. Seriously better than any plane food i've ever had, go kenyan airways!  I recommend them, their service was great! So friendly, great food, free wine, and warm towlettes. Attempts to sleep on this flight, the longest yet(9 hrs) were a bit more successful, save for thee ye little babe that decided to moan “I don’t like it” and cry every five minutes on the dot(I timed it). Earplugs can only do so much in those situations. I forgave him though because he was ADORABLE.

                We then arrived in kenya, and I started to get really excited. The language was now swahili for the overhead calls (with english and french second and third) and I was just getting so antsy to be done traveling already!! We exchanged our money and worked with a SFS staffer to work out our baggage situation, as most of ours had to be transferred to our next flight . Jolly and missing his front teeth, he answered our questions and gave us an extremely warm welcome. He informed us that all of our luggage had been found and transferred to the next flight, except one bag. Pleaseeee don’t be mine I thought, although I had a gut feeling my pleading would be to no avail. Luckily for me, I was right. One of my bags had been picked up by someone else at baggage claim accidentally, and wasn’t able to be located. AWESOME REALLY? THAT’S SUCH GOOD NEWS. Again, luckily(and I mean that sarcastically yet again) it was my bag with all my clothes, all my toiletries(including sunscreen which I NEED) and all my first aid stuff(which was a substantial amount of medicines in case of any mild to extreme health emergency.) Needless to say I had a little bit of a moment, and walked down the halls of the airport silently cursing the gods of long distance travel, what had I done to deserve such punishment?! They still havent located the bag, but are hoping that the lone bag that was left at baggage claim belongs to the person who took mine, and hopefully he/she will come back to return mine and claim their own. They really shouldn’t need three months supply of feminine products, ugly old clothes, and sunscreen, right? God I hope I’m right. 

                So anyways, la de da, lets skip ahead to the good part eh? We have arrived in tanzania after a very bumpy plane ride from nairobi, and then got on safari trucks to drive three hours to get to our camp. Great, more traveling! At least this time we got to see the countryside, provided we could keep our eyes open from a total of about 6 hours of sleep over 48 hours.  I'm really not sure how to explain how fantastic this place is, but ill give it my best shot. The air is heavy  and hot, but not stifling. It smells of earth, dust, and sweat(which in retrospect sounds really gross but its pretty awesome.) We drove through dry steppe and arid grasslands with little vegetation and frequent, small dust tornadoes. There are people walking along the roads constantly, and they almost always wave—and are almost always with goats or cows. Seriously, everyone has goats and cows. And possibly  an african ridge back dog(I think that’s what they are called) that meanders in the general vicinity, looking cute. The clothing is vibrantly patterned and covered in dust. As we continued along the green vegetation increased and so did the amounts of shops and people congregating around them. In all seriousness, everywhere I looked was a photo opportunity, but alas we were driving too fast to catch any of it on film. Almost everyone was sitting under some source of shade, often hanging out with their cows or goats that were  lazily grazing on the scarce grass. Traffic is strange, there arent any real rules it seems. Just honking and being forceful. And there are speed bumps everywhere, which our driver decided not to really slow down for, so I hit my head on the ceiling(which was padded thankfully) about 25 times.

Once we got away from stores and into more rural areas,  everywhere I looked groups of cattle or goats were being nonchalantly monitored by men, women, or children in long clothing swaying rapidly in the fierce winds. They often had sticks with them and bells, and waved as we drive past, shouting “jambo!” if close enough to our window. We wound up a road which increased consistently in elevation, passing small huts and crudely built brick buildings with no windows or doors. This often contrasted with the occasional resort or safari hotel, clearly distinguished by its modernity, scattering of touristy trinket shops nearby, large gates keeping everyone but the rich and those who work for them out. Even I don’t think ill ever be able to afford a stay in one of those places. We wound up ever higher as hills and valleys rose on all sides, covered in now lush vegetation and fruit trees. Huts and small houses were nestled into the valley hillsides, often with residents calmly sitting somewhere outside in the shade, watching the cars go by and waving. We stopped on the side of the road to observe a group of three giraffes, and I kind of freaked out I was so excited. A momma and two babies, although they looked not so young anymore. They stopped and stared at us, majestic and effortlessly sweeping from tree to tree top to graze once they decided we weren't worth investigating. 

                Finally we arrived at our camp, and were introduced to everyone. I will probably post tomorrow about what camp is like, because ill know more and I honestly really need to sleep now. Plus this is super long, sorry about that.

Thanks for bearing with me if you got to this point! Ill post again tomorrow I think, send your good vibes to my luggage so it comes to play with me. I really need it actually. 

Hope all is well,

Natalie