Saturday, September 29, 2007

House concert!

Once a month, we give our outreach students a group class instead of an individual lesson. Today, we were a few minutes late ... and arrived to find a big crew of kids and parents waiting for us. They love group class! Everyone came on time! Truly amazing.


Also, the Arusha Suzuki Program had its first house concert of the year today! The program has several concerts every year, and families volunteer to host them at their house. The Blumers' house is a beautiful place, and everyone had a nice, really relaxed time. My students Maike, Saskia and Georgina all played, and did beautifully. I took a few pictures in the nice afternoon light.

Liza and David jam a little bit before the recital starts.


Jessica shows her student, Andy, where to stand for his performance.


Me with my students, Georgina and Aliya.

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Our wild, wild adventure.

Our spontaneous trip to Oldonyo Lengai was one of the most intense adventures that I have ever been on. It began in the Patisserie, the little Internet cafe in downtown Arusha: Liza received word from a friend that Lengai, an active volcano several hours from Arusha, was erupting, and that the site was awe-inspiring. We had to go see it! Liza turned to me and we instantly agreed to make a quick trip: leaving Saturday at noon, returning Sunday night, camping overnight at a campsite by a river. It sounded gorgeous, perfect, exactly the rustic bush experience I'd been wanting. How long would the trip take? Four and a half hours, maybe.

We set out on the road after our outreach teaching, as prepared as we could be: a full tank of diesel plus a big container of extra; lots of food and drinking water; lantern, flashlight, matches, sunblock, bug spray, first aid, knife (for cutting food and ... any unwanted visitors). After about an hour on paved roads, we checked in with a local police station to confirm where the turnoff was for Lengai. We entered the bush.

It was tremendously exciting to be out there: hardly a soul around, the occasional sighting of a rare bird or a Thomson's gazelle. It's difficult to describe the beauty and peace that comes with being out there, although as Liza pointed out (and as I'd later learn firsthand), there's really no such thing as wilderness in this country. Even the most remote, dry, seemingly desolate landscape probably contains a Maasai boma (compound) or two. Just when you think you're alone, a tribesman or woman will appear at the side of your car, seemingly from nowhere. It's difficult to imagine sustaining life in a climate such as this, but the Maasai have been doing it forever.

After a couple hours of bush driving, though, we were in trouble: though Liza had traveled to Lengai before, we really didn't know which way to go. It's difficult to describe just how unfriendly these roads are to an unskilled traveler: not a single man-made thing ANYWHERE, let alone a sign ... and an unvarying landscape of dry grass, scrubby brush, and the occasional acacia tree.

Several men in the first Maasai village we stopped in gave us some unhelpful directions. As we turned around to try again, we met with two men about our age, traveling uphill on this crazy road with their bicycles. After a brief exchange with Liza, they discovered we were headed to Lengai, and told us their village was on the way. They piled into the car (after a struggle to fit their bicycles inside) and were our guides for a few more hours of bush driving. They told us that they were biking from Bible school. That is a HUGE bike ride, just to get to Bible school. It had taken us several hours to drive it. This kind of commuting time is fairly typical in Tanzania. We know people who commute two or three hours a day on a bicycle just to get to work, or kids who walk two hours uphill to get to school. We shared hard-boiled eggs, cookies, and water with them on the way.

We dropped our guides off in their village (and met their mother! they also were Maasai and she was an old woman, quite excited to see us), and began a race with the setting sun. We were still quite far away from our campsite destination, and still hadn't even SEEN Lengai, the erupting volcano we'd come to see. This began a quite stressful mood in the car, with long silences and straining eyes, trying to spot Lengai on the horizon, to give us the hope we needed to continue the journey. The sun was beginning to set, and the glare made it difficult to see.

We drove for at least an hour, both of us quite concerned that we hadn't yet spotted the mountain. (You'd think an erupting volcano would be a pretty conspicuous feature!) Finally, Liza said, "OH!" No wonder we couldn't see Lengai ... the mountain was being obscured almost entirely by the intense, blazing sun! We could see the faint outline, though, if we stared straight into the sun. As the sun began to dip below the peak, we could see more and more of the mountain, and could make out the plume of smoke rising from the peak. It was truly spectacular. We yelled for joy and high-fived each other: we needed a moment like that badly! We took beautiful photos of the blazing sun and the dark, smoky volcano:
black

We also took this opportunity to photograph ourselves. We had become unbelievably dirty -- more dirty than I've been in my entire life -- because waves of dust from the "roads" (term used loosely) poured into our car regularly, and filtered onto our skin for the entire trip.


After the thrill of finally catching sight of Lengai, unpleasant reality started to set in. The sun was going down, and we still had a ways til the Riverside campsite. We drove in increasing anxiety, and began to talk about possible campsites in the bush along the way. Finally, when it had gotten dark enough that the road was difficult to find, we decided to stop. It was a tense moment. We could hear the voices of Maasai children playing nearby, and the tinkling of someone's herd of cattle. We might be in the deep bush, but we wouldn't be alone tonight.

Our spirits were low, initially, and when two Maasai men approached us, we hoped for the best. They came by, said a brief hello, asked us where our men were, and said goodbye. During the night, two other men would stop by, ask us where our men were, and leave.

We pitched the tent easily, rolled our sleeping bags, lit our lantern, and ended up having one of those awesome, low-light, rustic dinners (of lentil soup, red wine, eggs and cookies) that make camping so much fun. We stayed up for awhile talking and enjoying the stillness and beauty of our camp. We slept well, and the transparent screen of the tent let me watch the movements of the moon across the sky each time that I awoke. In the night, we heard hyenas yowling in the distance, and an enormous herd of livestock passed right by our tent.


When we awoke to beautiful morning light, we met two Maasai women, who had come from their nearby boma to find out what we were up to. One looked younger than I am, but she had a big, healthy-sized baby strapped to her back, papoose-style. Her mother, an old, old woman, also came over to say hello, and they sold us bangle bracelets and gave us great directions to Oldonyo Lengai.

Finally getting to see the mountain up close was amazing:


We got home safely. Whew. Longest story ever. Gold star if you got all the way through.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Some little tidbits ...

Today I had the wonderful good fortune of getting to have lunch with Kathy and Garth Johnson! It's truly unbelievable how small the world is. Garth is the brother of my (amazing) Uncle Brett, and he and Kathy have been coming to the McSweeney family Thanksgiving festivities (which are, or should be, famous worldwide) for several years now. Their oldest daughter, Valerie, runs an incredible orphanage in Moshi called Amani (www.amanikids.org), which is just a couple hours away from Arusha. For the past two weeks, they've been in Moshi visiting with Valerie and her husband, Matthew, and getting to vacation in Zanzibar. Today was their last day in the country, and I got to meet them at Coffee Lodge for a relatively luxurious lunch. They're such nice people. It was really nice to see family and a get a warm hug from familiar folks. It made me long for the day when my parents might visit ... (hint hint). At any rate, hooray for family. They can report back to everyone and confirm that I'm alive and well.

In other awesome news, Tyler has a bona fide ticket to come out to Tanzania in February! We're trying to restrain ourselves on the whole countdown thing, but I'm already saving up my pennies so we can go on a cheap camping safari somewhere ... I can't wait. I miss him terribly, and I'm so grateful he gets to come. He's my favorite traveling companion, truly.

I'm settling down well into my teaching schedule, and time is really starting to fly. There have been so many moments where the teacher becomes the student. It's a unique challenge to get to know each child and figure out the best way to teach and motivate them. I can feel myself learning a lot from my teaching experience, and it's a luxury to have Liza and Jess around for questions and advice. I'm really grateful for this opportunity to learn.

Our kitchen is full of cooking, full of personality these days: Liza with her culinary experiments and hilarious stories; Jessica with her biting sense of humor, fabulous 80's music playlists, and love of hot peppers (pilipili); Frank, the Alpha Cook, with lots of kitchen ambition and tales of celebrities and energy-healers in his native Malibu, CA ... and Erica, who I just love, and who works insanely long days and always shares the latest organizational gossip with us. It's quite a whirlwind to be at home sometimes. My family might laugh, but sometimes, I'm actually the quiet one of the group .. In fact, I'm home by myself right now, and the quiet is shocking. (But nice ...)

I hope everyone's enjoying a nice autumn at home in the States. We're working our way towards summer, and recent winds have blown all the dry-season dust off the hills, making views particularly lovely outside town. Til next time ...

Saturday, September 15, 2007

"This internet is lightning fast." "Really, you think so?" "No."

I've now gone running a few times up Karama Hill, a very short (but intense) run in our neighborhood. It's an interesting experience for a couple of reasons: one, it's a pretty tough hill, and after about six minutes on it, my (admittedly wimpy) heart is pounding like a jackhammer. The other thing, though, is that (as during any trip on foot in this town) you end up exchanging Swahili greetings with virtually everyone you pass, no matter how out of breath you are. Yesterday I went running around five, which was a peak time for foot traffic, and I was a running mzungu, so quite conspicuous. The chain of greetings just kept going: "Habari? Salaama!" (how's it going? peacefully!) "Mambo! Poa!" (what's up? cool!) "Pole! Asante!" (sorry! thanks!) I've gotten pretty used to these little rhythms, but doing it while you sweat and turn red-faced (or practically purple-faced, in my case) is pretty funny.

Everything IS going pretty peacefully here. A few times, I've found myself actually thinking of the streets (lined with women carrying buckets of produce on their heads, men riding rickety bikes like suicide pilots, and the occasional pair of donkeys) as commonplace and familiar. Sometimes, communication and getting around (the power goes out, the cell phone network goes down) and simple alienation from my environment (enormous barriers of socioeconomic status, race, language, and culture) make me wonder if it's really worth it to live in a place like this. I think one factor that makes it worth it is the people: they're SO warm, so kind, so much fun to converse with, even if you can only speak thirty words. Of course, the natural beauty is another pro. Basically, in my mind, I'm weighing all the reasons people come here, the reasons they leave, and the reasons they stay. I'm experiencing all of these things at the same time.

Still, right now I feel like Tanzania won't be the place where I can do my best work as a person, musician, writer, whatever. It's a little crappy to admit this, since I'd like to think I'm the kind of person who can stomach all this stuff. But I'm learning that I'm really quite sensitive to a lot of environmental factors, and that while the thrill of adventure is sometimes inspiring, I might be more of a homebody/boring person/old lady than I originally thought. (My friends probably won't be that shocked to hear this.) We'll see how my homebody factor changes over time.

Saturday, September 8, 2007

Tarangire trip

Here are some pictures of yesterday's quick trip to Tarangire, a beautiful national park that's famous for being full of elephants! I had many beautiful, restful, peaceful moments up at the fancy lodge we stayed at ($65 a night which none of us can really afford), and we did a couple of short game drives where I had my first sighting of many species in the wild! In the future, I think I'll skip out on the fancy stuff ($6 cocktails, hot showers) in favor of a more rustic experience -- and I'd definitely go for more than one day. Still, the place is totally gorgeous, and it was my first ever trip into the bush (though it wasn't all that rustic ...)


The zebra traffic was heavy coming into the park.


The lodge looked out over enormous, expansive, never-ending plains.


A bunch of wildebeest boldly crossed our path on the way up to the lodge.


The sunset was gorgeous ...


We didn't get to look at these giraffes long enough!

Love,
Ellen

Saturday, September 1, 2007

Our tiny and wonderful outreach program

Today was the first day of real lessons for our outreach kids, the Tanzanian kids who pay about $2/hr for lessons at the Arusha Community Church on Saturdays. While I was a little nervous waking up this morning about the many challenges that outreach teaching would bring me (parents with very limited English and very specific questions; registration forms and instrument checkout forms to be filled out; new students to meet and work with), I found myself enjoying our Saturday morning at the church as much as I've enjoyed any teaching this week. There is a real feeling of community: families often come early and stay very late, observing lessons, chatting with each other and with us teachers, watching their kids play in the courtyard. It really feels good to be part of something positive in the community, something that the kids enjoy doing and that the parents are happy to bring their children to. These people probably have many problems that we cannot imagine, but they are warm, relaxed, and engaged in the program environment. I was so excited to sign up two lovely new dads for their kids to begin lessons! It's wonderful to be able to bring new people into the program and provide something special for them.

While the Church is awesome to let us rent the space cheaply, it would be even more amazing to have our very own space! Space for the kids to play, places to have snacks, performance spaces, teaching space, office space ... sigh. Our organization's biggest search right now is for a home.

I've been a bit homesick recently, missing the familiar comforts of home. Today is Jessica's birthday, so we'll go out to dinner with some friends to celebrate ... I still haven't really gotten to go camping or to see the bush, so I hope we can all get away from work long enough to do that soon.

Love, Ellen