Moving in for Christmas

Once again, It’s been a long while since I wrote anything down. I will write briefly about my first week and weekend back, and then try and go into more detail about the progress of the house.

When I arrived back, and I’m fairly sure this was on a Thursday, I was exhausted. Delighted to be back though, and greeted warmly by the staff and volunteers, I hung out with them in the house for a few hours. That evening it was social night. A lot of people were surprised to see me, so I caught up with them, and introduced myself to new volunteers, too. I was happy to be back though!

Remember when I wrote about Jen going on Safari and becoming ill on her first day? If not, go back a few posts and catch up! Anyway, since Jen’s first attempt at Safari hadn’t gone so well, she’d been dying to do another one ever since. It was her last chance to go that weekend, so I decided to go with her. I wasn’t completely sure on whether to go or not, as I wasn’t comfortable spending $500+ on something which I had done the previous year. Oh well, it worked out great, and we had a fantastic time. Aside from our Safari truck being a bit worn down, it worked out great. A mixed group, with characters from the states, Brazil, Russia and the UK made for an enjoyable and extremely interesting weekend. My personal highlight of the Safari was coming face to face with a huge elephant after using the toilet in the Ngorongoro campsite. You can ask me about that when you next see me!

Before leaving for Safari on the weekend, I popped into the school on Friday morning. None of the teachers had a clue that I was coming back. I quickly walked past the baby classrooms, hoping that none of the kids would call my name out. I entered the gate, crouched down and snuck past the office and another classroom, before jumping in the door of my class and shouting ‘BOO!’ Teacher Samson and Assa jumped out of their skin, and so did the children. But once they realised it was me, they all bounced out of their seats and ran towards me, shouting ‘Teacher Zaci!’ It was a lovely feeling, I’d been waiting for it for a couple of weeks at least! It’s also got to be the most amount of children I’ve ever had hugging me at once. I told them to sit down, and then went and did similar things in the other classrooms. I didn’t get as big as a response in the others, but everybody was still happy to see me. I was more than happy to see them, too. I forgot to mention, that before all of this happened I bumped into Mama Mary on the way to school. As I walked through the village, and weaved through the new buildings, I saw three ladies walking with buckets on their heads. I wondered if one of them could be Mama Mary. It turns out that it was. I don’t think she noticed me at first, but one of the ladies that she was with, notified her that I was there. She turned, dropped her bucket and ran towards me, gave me a message hug and said ‘Karibu sana manangu’ which means, ‘you’re welcome my son’. She followed up with, ‘Pole Sana’ ‘I’m so sorry’, in a deep and sorrowful tone. She was referring to the loss of my Grandmother, and I appreciated that she had remembered. Everybody said that to me that day actually, even the children at the school. It still saddens me so much that now I don’t even want to carry on writing. I will though.

A lot has happened since then, so I’m going to have to breeze through most of it. The following Saturday, Jen left Arusha to go back to Canada. It was a rough day, as she really didn’t want to go, and was worrying a lot if she was making a mistake about it. I comforted her for most of it, but saying good bye at the airport was hard. I went out that night to try and chill out a bit, I can’t remember exactly what I did.

The next week was a busy one regarding the house. I paid out a lot of money, probably around one million Tanzanian shillings across the whole week. This allowed the builders to buy the majority of the materials needed to finish off the inside of the house. I visited most days, and checked up on everything. It was amazing how quickly it all came together. After the walls had been plastered and the floor cemented, it really started to look like a home. Seeing the children run around in their new house gave me real joy! When this was all going on, I was trying to avoid going to school and teaching, as I was feeling pretty run down and didn’t have the energy to deal with it. There’s still a lot of politics going on too involving the sponsorship program and I really don’t want to be involved in it, although the past few days it has been pretty hard to get away from.

After the builders finishing plastering the walls, then applied jepsam. I’m not sure about the translation into English but the texture is really similar to filler. They apply it onto the walls because the way they plaster isn’t good enough to paint over afterwards. When it was ready to start painting, I gathered a couple of people who were willing to come and help me do some work on the house. A couple of girls from Switzerland, Melina and Sarah, were happy to help, and we had a good day working on the house. First, we sanded down the jepsam to make sure the walls were all smooth, and then applied a base coat, and then applied the first layer of colour on to the two main rooms. Before we got there, I had to go and buy the paint, which turned out to be much more hassle than I had expected, and also way more expensive. I went for good quality paint, and the colour is described as ice green. It’s a lovely colour, and it makes the house feel very cool when it’s hot. But, when the children are running around, and touching the walls all of the time, it’s really noticeable when it gets dirty. Another small issue is that I think it attracts the flies, there’s so many in there at the moment and they are always on the walls, I’m not sure if it’s the colour, or just the new paint. Hopefully it’s the paint because I don’t want them to stick around. It was a lovely day though, and Mama Mary was happy to have us around, and to cook for us too. We had rice with spices, she’s a very good cook!

The swiss girls weren’t available again, as they went off to Zanzibar for Christmas, so on Saturday, I asked a couple of the TVE volunteers if they would like to help me come and do some work. Melissa, one of the girls who came along, is interested in doing a similar project herself, so she was more than happy to come along and get a feel for how things work, and how much it all costs, too! That day, we finished off the second coat of the two main rooms, sanded down the third room, and applied a base coat, then a first coat of colour. I couldn’t have asked for much more from the girls, they both worked hard, and we finished all the things I had wanted to that day. Once again, Mama Mary cooked for us. This time, it was rice, beans and spices. It was lovely, but I’ve been passing quite a lot of wind since! I tried to explain to Mama Mary today, that when I give her money for food, she isn’t to buy and eat it all at once, but better to cook little bits at a time. So that the food lasts for longer, and the kids don’t get completely full and then are starving the next day without any food. It’s hard getting through sometimes, she’s very passive, and to be honest, not the brightest spark, but still a lovely lady. Something that’s also caught my attention recently is that Mary (Mama Mary’s eldest daughter) really doesn’t help out much around the house, and is hardly ever there to look after her own daughter. Instead, she leaves Brightness with Mama Mary or the other daughters to look after. It’s very unfair, Mama Mary has enough on her plate let alone having to look after another child most of the time. I’m going to meet with Elius soon and talk to Mary about it. I’m not sure how well it will go down but she really needs to accept the fact that she has a child and that she needs to be there all of the time to look after it.

The day before painting the house with Melissa and Antonia, it was the children’s Christmas party. The plan was for them all to have a big meal, and then go to the snake park, where they can look at all of the snakes found in Africa, and ride a camel too! Elius asked me for a donation towards the food budget about a week prior to this, but after finding out that he had already had a $1000 donation from the states, towards the food and the trip, I backed out. I was pissed off that he had tried to scam me, but I didn’t let it get to me too much. What really upset me though, was when I turned up to the school on Friday morning, and he hadn’t even bought enough food for all of the kids to eat well. Instead of 42kg’s of rice, there were only 15, and instead of 20kg’s of meat, there were only seven. No fruit, no soda’s and about half of everything else on the budget meant the children weren’t going to get a decent meal. After meeting with Elius, and trying to rack his brains about where this $1000 had gone, I gave up. I was sick of listening to him go on and on and on about other subjects, so I ended up walking out. I’m not going to go into that stuff too much, it’s not very pleasant. One more thing that annoyed me, was that Elius’ children came to the school that day. When the food was being prepared in the kitchen, they were in there eating meat and potatoes, and then when the food was served to the teachers, they each helped themselves first to a massive portion, and took three seats. No respect for their elders, and despicable manners of tucking in first without offering to the teachers really pissed me off. The food was meant to be for the children! They are the ones who need to eat more than anybody else there. Argh.  Anyway, after that was all over, we headed to the snake park. Poor organisation and dodgy transport made what should have been a relatively short trip turn into a really long one. The kids loved it though, and they were going crazy when the guide brought a snake out for them each to put around their necks. I loved it too, I really like snakes, and I rarely get to hold one. I asked the guy about where to go if I wanted one for a pet here, and he told me. I might go and check it out soon!

Finally, after getting all of the kids on a camel ride for cheap, we managed to head back to the school. Lucy Cottee, the wonderful girl she is, raised enough money for all of the kids to have a backpack each with stationary inside as a Christmas present. Aubree, who runs Walk in love Tanzania had a lot to do with this, and I thank her for it too! The aim was to hand the bags out that same day, and get pictures of the kids with their new school bags, but by the time we got back from the snake park, it was already dark. I handed out as many as I could, whilst Elius freaked out about the children’s parents wondering where they were, before I was stopped and told that I would have to give the rest out on Monday morning. It was a shame really, because it was the teachers and managers fault that this happened. I asked earlier on in the day if I should give them out before lunch but they all refused and said it would be a good idea. Nothing makes sense in Tanzania, everything is backwards. Honestly, having common sense here is a rarity. On the way home, the Dalla broke down in the middle of the slum in the pitch black. We waited for a while, whilst the driver poured water into the radiator which had overheated. I was worried about the children walking home from the road on their own whilst it was dark, but they all know the score, and got themselves home safe! Adam (a friend who I’ll talk more about in a moment) and I, waited with Neepa (one of the teachers) in town for her Dalla, as she was afraid to wait alone in the dark. It was the first time that I’ve ever walked anywhere in the city centre when it’s been dark. It’s notoriously dangerous at times, but it doesn’t half give you an adrenaline kick walking through there. The chaos, noise and energy of the city adds to the experience! I didn’t do anything that night, I was so tired, and I knew I had a busy day on Saturday so I just went straight to bed.

About a week and a half ago, I left TVE and the volunteer house and moved into my own place. I spoke to Aubree, and asked her if she might know anywhere which is vacant. She told me about the compound she lives in, and that there’s an apartment which was becoming vacant soon. I grabbed a number from her for a guy called Michael, who owns the apartment and the compound! I met Michael in a bar a few days later, and we got along very well. We agreed on $200 for a month, which for here is quite expensive, but compared to home it’s an absolute bargain. I’m living in a place called Moshono now, which is a little way out of town, but I love it. My apartment is great too, small and cosy with a double bed, seating area, kitchen and bathroom. With a HOT shower might I add, quite the thing to have around these parts. The people who I’m living with are great too. Aubree and Jason her husband live just across from my place, so I go over quite often and chat to them about how things are going on, have dinner and beers etc. Michael, the owner of the compound, also has his own safari company called Access2Tanzania, and runs an NGO called Project Zawadi. Project Zawadi started quite some years ago now in a village which I don’t remember the name of, all the way over near the Mwanza region. It started with just a few street kids, but has now grown and sponsors over five hundred children to go to school. It’s an amazing organisation. Adam, who I mentioned earlier is the first child from Project Zawadi to have gone to university and graduated. He’s extremely bright, and his story is amazing. Being around those sort of people is a real honour. If you think your lives have been hard so far, you should listen to theirs! They all play football too, but unfortunately at 6am every morning. I find it really hard to get up that early at the moment, especially with not being so well for the past week or so. I’m not really sure what’s up, just had a dodgy stomach and generally feeling very tired. Maybe it’s a worm, I should probably go and get a tablet. The football isn’t the highest level I’ve ever played, but it’s still football and I enjoy it!

Today, I played football in the morning, and then went down to Mama Mary’s to meet the builders. I needed to pay some money out, and explain to them what I needed doing before tomorrow. I wanted the third room to have its final coat, and for them to start painting the black paint around the bottom of the walls. Kiara agreed, and cracked on. I was meant to be going to Mwanza region for Christmas with Stanley, but due to Mama Mary being my main priority, I decided to stay in Arusha so that I could make sure she and the children are in their new house before Christmas on Tuesday. I’m going down tomorrow morning, to help hand out backpacks, and then will be doing some work on the house, and hopefully moving Mama Mary and the kids across. It’s going to be a big day, but I’m up for it. When I went to the house today, I saw a familiar face peeking through the sheet metal used to cover the area which they cook in. It looked to me as if it were the father, who you all know that I’m not very fond of. I asked Agripina, and she told me that it was her grandfather and that he lived nearby. I wasn’t convinced, and when I heard her talking about it to her Mum, I knew something was up. I played ignorant though, as I don’t want to cause any trouble. If he is there tomorrow, then something will have to be done about it. A drunk father who abandons his wife and children doesn’t deserve the home that they have.

On Monday morning, and just in time for Christmas, I moved Mama Mary and her family into their new home. I had a very stressful morning, but in the end it turned out great. Trying to get cash to pay the builders that morning was a nightmare. A jam packed Arusha city centre and about a queue of five people minimum and each and every ATM turned my morning into a bit of a nightmare. I managed though, and eventually I was on my way down to Swahilini with the cash I needed to pay the builder for the last time. The day before, I’d popped down to the house and to meet Kiara, so I could explain what I wanted and what needed doing before the next day so I could move them in. I arranged to give him the cash that I owed him for the finishing’s on Monday. When I arrived on Monday, Kiara and Elius were already there at the house. Kiara was finishing little things off, and Elius was just having a look around.

Moving all of the furniture over from the old house was quite interesting. After taking the beds and couches out, I really got to see how bad the old house was. Light poured through big holes of the walls in the bedroom, and the floor was covered in garbage. Cockroaches ran around everywhere, it all just became pretty gross. The foam used as mattresses was covered in mould, and I couldn’t quite believe what the children had been sleeping on. Underneath the second bed, where the four elder children sleep, were breeze blocks and little scraps of foam. I knew that they were poor, but I didn’t realise that the children were sleeping in such poor conditions, it made me very sad. It won’t be a problem for too much longer though, as I’m going to buy them a new bunk bed, so that they will be much more comfortable! By the time we’d sorted all of that out, and moved Mama Mary and the children into the new house, everybody was ecstatic. Mama Mary and Kiara, who is also a preacher, sang and danced for a good fifteen minutes. First they sang and made their own music, and then Mama Mary put the radio on and the children, Mama and I danced around the house for a while. I haven’t been particularly happy since my Grandma passed away, but this was a moment which really made me feel good. To see right in front of me what I’d achieved was unbelievable. Until now, I’ve never set my mind to something and finished it. There are still things to do at the house, but the main thing is that they are moved in, and they are happy. I’m so proud. I think it's the best Christmas present which any family could ever wish for. 

I’ve since had a relatively eventual Christmas break, which has involved drinking a lot of alcohol, and I’m only just about recovering. Over the next couple of weeks, I will be travelling to Mombassa to meet some close friends and celebrate the New Year. Then, my mother and her husband Terry will be arriving in Arusha on the 4^th of January for a couple of weeks, to have their honeymoon. It’s going to be a great two weeks or so, and I will be quite busy. But I will try to post once I’m back from Mombassa! 

A journey cut short.

I think the last time I blogged, I ended with me returning home from my trip to Uganda. If I remember correctly that was on a Wednesday. The following day, I decided to go into placement for a little while. Every day at school, and after the children’s ten o’clock playtime, the teachers and volunteers sit down together to drink tea and eat mandazi. Mandazi is a local food often eaten in the mornings for breakfast or for a mid-morning snack. It’s essentially fried dough. It’s really good, but very sweet, and hardly ever agrees with my indigestion problems. I get over it though, and eat it anyway, it would be rude not to. And I like it. That day, after tea and mandazi, I was asked into the office by Stevie the manager, and Vicky, the director’s wife. I knew exactly why I had been pulled in. It was something to do with the meeting/confrontation that I had arranged the week before. Remember about the sponsored children being sent home from school? Anyway, it was like being back at school for me. I was told off for supposedly gathering wrong information from untrustworthy sources (ironic coming from them don’t you think!), for not realising that the simple solution to what happened was a confusion with language and a difference between cultures, for not taking my teaching seriously enough, and for not spending enough time at the school. The point about teaching was fair enough to be honest, I really hadn’t been doing enough. But I still didn’t like hearing it. I managed to bite my tongue though, and just take it all on the chin. After the meeting I cracked on with some teaching. Amanda and I spent a good hour or so trying to teach the students how to do fractions. We used practical things such as paper, which we made into the shape of pizza’s or ciapati. Ciapati is another African food commonly eaten alongside lentils and vegetables. It’s thinly fried bread, and looks like a pancake but it’s got a different taste and they are much more filling. We tried to use these to help the kids to understand, but we didn’t really get anywhere. A few of the children, the brightest ones in the class I guess, picked it up pretty quickly. I stayed until about 2pm that day and then headed home for some lunch and a needed lie down.

A few other volunteers, including Harriet, a lovely girl from the UK, and Jennica left for Safari on Friday morning. I said goodbye to them and wished them a good trip. Lauren, Matt and I had planned that weekend to visit the Pare Mountains, but due to the weather being so bad, we decided not to go. In November, it’s the light rainy season in Tanzania. It was strange how they started exactly on the 1^st, and the rain didn’t stop for a good four days or so. The Pare Mountains would have been lovely. It was a trip that I did last year, but I felt like I hadn’t stayed there long enough, and that I would prefer to do some other activities which are available there. However, with the rains being so heavy during the night, and unpredictable in the day time, it just wasn’t worth it, it would have been miserable, and dangerous, too.

On Friday night I got a text from Harriet telling me that Jennica hadn’t been very well throughout their first day of Safari, and that it had continued through the night. I was worried of course, but Harriet assured be that she would be fine. The next morning, before heading out to do some things in town, I got a call from Nancy (our house manager) saying that Jen was so ill that she had been taken into hospital. I got stuff together, and headed straight there. I won’t go into detail of this weekend. One because it was pretty boring, and two because I’m sure Jen wouldn’t want me to expose some of those details online. I spent most of the weekend in hospital with her, and she was home again on Sunday afternoon. Still not feeling very well, she needed a good week at least to recover.

The next week was fairly unproductive regarding the building of the house. I hadn’t put any money into the project since I got back from Uganda, and had spent most of my time trying to figure out if I had been getting ripped off or not. One afternoon I met a lady called Aubree, who is from the states, and has her own NGO in Arusha, which aims to get local mothers into starting their own businesses, to make them self-sustainable. I told her how much I had spent on the house so far, and she was a little surprised at how much I had been paying. So it got me thinking, which got me looking into things a little more. My best option to try and sus out if they were ripping me off or not, was talking to the ladies who run the volunteer organisation in Tanzania, who are called Nelly and Angella. I trust them both, and they both are well connected in the area. Nelly’s husband’s work is closely linked to the building. It’s on a larger scale than the house I’m doing, but his knowledge was useful when trying to find out if I had been paying more than I should for building materials. Surprisingly, it turns out that the builders estimations were spot on, regarding the prices of materials, but he was adding on quite a bit each time to the labour charge. Nelly asked me if I would like her to call the builder for me, so she could try to bargain with him, and persuade him to knock off some of the labour charge. Thankfully, she was successful and managed to save me about £100! Very happy with myself, I headed down to the school to pay what else I owed to the builder.

That Friday, it was Shelley and Christina’s last day at the school. Last days are always fun, but they can be a bit emotional for people too! Shelley and Christina were well organised. It was very kind of them to buy each child some chocolate, and some of the kids even got special presents too. That same day, Shelley and I had arranged to take two of the kids to a boxing class after school. Edward, who is in class two is a big fan of having little pretend boxing matches, and Pius in class three is just as into it! We thought that it would be a nice idea to take them to go and do something special before Shelley left. They were both pretty excited when we were leaving, not many of them get to leave the village very often and see the city. Before we left, we asked one of the teachers to ask if they had brought any shorts or trainers like they were told to, but neither of them owned a pair. It’s seeing things like that first hand that really make you think about how we take everything for granted. Remember when we used to get in trouble for not bringing PE shorts? These poor kids’ families can’t even provide anything of the sort. It’s unfair. Because of this, Shelley and I took Edward and Pius to the market beforehand, so that we could buy them a pair of trainers each and some shorts. It took a while to get a decent price on the trainers, and I got pretty pissed off when they were still trying to rip us off even though they could clearly see that we were buying these things for their own people. So after getting a good price on the trainers, and then having to pay a little more expected on the shorts, we headed to Sakina, which is where the boxing gym is, and also very close to where I live too. The kids were so excited to be there. It makes you feel good seeing the joy in their faces, especially the fact that it’s down to you! Edwardi was a little hesitant to put his new shorts on when we arrived, which was because he didn’t have any underwear on. He was so embarrassed, but I gave him a hand with it and we got there in the end. The boxing trainer was twenty minutes late or so, which was a little annoying as we had to keep Edward and Pius distracted. It was also hard to stop them from climbing on, and trying to use the weights. They were enjoying themselves though. The trainer turned up eventually, and did an hour or so of practice with them. They were both great, and thrived on every minute of it. Pius was especially good, his left hook was surprisingly strong and consistent, a little concerning for a child of his age. I think I’m going to take them again soon, Pius could actually turn out to be a good boxer, and maybe one day he could have his own gym too! That’s certainly a project that I’d love to get involved in. It definitely wouldn’t be for a few years though.

That evening Shelley was having a meal at the Blue Herrin for her leaving do. After getting the kids Samosa’s from the shop, and then heading back to Swahilini to drop them both off, I got home pretty late. I showered quickly, and then was picked up in a taxi with some volunteers from the other house. The meal was lovely, and not too badly priced either. I ate too much though, and was so full by the end of it. I chatted with Colin for most of the night, and another guy called Chris. But I occasionally spoke to Shelley too. Emily, a girl from Birmingham was on good form that night, and alongside Shelley, neither of them stopped taking the piss out of me. The ripped on the shirt I was wearing, which I admit was a bit obnoxious and weird, (I think it’s wicked), they ripped on my accent and they also made fun of my hair cut. I don’t mind it though really, I can take the piss out of myself so it never bothers me too much. I decided not to go out and headed home early that night.

I booked my ticket for the bus to Dar es Salaam a few couple of days before Shelley’s last night. I booked it for Saturday morning, planned to spend two nights in Dar es Salaam with my good friend Stanley, and then head to Zanzibar on Monday morning. The bus left at 5.45 am, so I was a bit all over the place when I left. I slept for the start of the trip, then something dawned on me. I had forgotten my passport, and driving license. When I left in the morning, I thought about taking them, but didn’t think that I would need them. That’s how tired I must have been. You need your passport to get into Zanzibar so you can show your Visa, and I needed my licence because I wanted to rent a vespa once I got to the island. I panicked a little, and at the stop for lunch, I nearly paid money to jump back on a bus to Arusha. I decided not to though, and carried on towards Dar. We arrived in good time, I think it was about 3pm. I was speaking to people from Arusha on the phone, and trying to work out the best way of getting my details over. Aaron had a smart idea of photocopying everything, and using that to get across. I wasn’t too sure, but it was the best option I had. Turns out it worked fine!

Stanley picked me up from the bus station, and then we drove in his father’s car, but with another driver, back to his home which is about an hour outside of the city. First, we drove straight to where his football team had just finished training. I was welcomed warmly by his team, who referred to me as ‘jembe langu’, which means ‘my friend’ or ‘dude’. Stanley asked me to introduce myself. I was a bit nervous of standing in front of the whole team and talking to them in English whilst Stanley translated. I told them how I’d met Stanley last year playing football, and how we had remained close friends. The team were playing in their first final the following day, and were organising where they would meet beforehand to eat, and relax to get themselves prepared. I decided that I would donate 30,000tsh, which is about fifteen pounds  towards the food, so that they could all eat well before the game. They went a bit crazy, applauded me and then all headed off home to rest.

After that we went Stanley’s home, and I was greeted warmly by his father, who told me that this was my home whenever I needed it. It was an absolute honour to be welcomed in to a Tanzanian’s house like this. Stanley had told him about me, and about the work I was doing too. His father was much appreciative. Stanley did a tour of the house for me, which is pretty big for a Tanzanian family. Stanley’s father owns his own tour company which runs tours abroad in Egypt, Israel and other predominantly Islamic countries. Pretty much what I’m saying is that he does alright for himself! Stanley showed me his room, and then showed me to my room. It’s hard to describe how I was feeling. For the first time really since I’d visited Tanzania, I felt like I was living like a real local. I didn’t really want to leave, I was loving it. I had a cold bucket shower, which added to the experience, and then joined Stanley and his family for dinner. Previously, Stan had introduced me to his elder brother, who was incredibly quiet, and also his cook. I’ve forgotten both of their names which is really bad! We sat in his lounge, and watched the news. When dinner was ready, Stanley’s father got up first and served himself food. Next, I was invited to eat, then Stanley’s elder brother, followed by Stanley, and then the cook and a young boy who I believe was Stanley’s nephew. We are very well. There was rice, stewed beef, beans, cabbage, avocado and tomatoes. Stanley and I had gone to the shop an hour before or something to get some fizzy drinks to go with dinner, so I washed my food down with a Fanta. After dinner I was exhausted, it had been a very long day. I went to bed at around nine, and passed out pretty much straight away. It’s much hotter in Dar than in Arusha, so I was surprised that I slept so easily.

The next morning I told Stanley that I’d like to play some football. We walked to the main road and rented bicycles, then cycled to the same pitch where his team were training the day before. Unfortunately we were a little late and the guys had already finished. Most of them were dripping with sweat and it looked like they’d had a pretty hard work out. I was a little bit relieved that I hadn’t joined in to be honest. Stanley and I took the bicycles back to the rental shop, and then walked back to his house. His father was heading into town, and had agreed to drop us at the main village closest to their house which I think was called Unga Unga. There was an internet café there where I could print off my passport and driving license photocopies. After all that was done, we went and got some food. Chips Mayai is my favourite Tanzanian dish, so we went to a place which served that. Chips Mayai is like an omelette with chips in it! It’s so good, and really cheap too. I’m always a bit sketched out about eating from small restaurants like that but my stomach had adjusted a lot more than last year, so I didn’t worry too much. After finishing, we took a Dalla back to Stanley’s house, dropped off my photocopies and then walked to meet his team. Once again I was greeted warmly by his team mates, and thanked by all of them for donating towards the food. I introduced myself to most of them, and then had a little kick around with a few of them too. It was nice to have a relaxed kick, it had been a while since I felt so chilled out. Soon after, the food was ready. I helped serve some of it, and then sat down on the football we were kicking around to eat. My donation had gone towards loads of rice, beef and tomatoes. Unfortunately, it hadn’t gone as far to buy some cutlery so I ate with my hands, like a real African. Very unsanitary I know, and I’m blaming this on my stomach being really bad for a couple of days after that. We waited around for a while. Lots of the guys would come up to me and speak to me in Swahili, and when I wasn’t able to understand so I had to turn to Stanley for help with translating. A lot of them had really good senses of humour, and although we didn’t really understand each other, we still had a laugh.  A couple of hours passed, and it was time for Stanley’s team to get ready and go to the game. Once they were ready, I took some pictures of the team in the tangerine kits. The bus arrived to take them, and there was a lot of fighting over who would get a seat. I didn’t get on in time, but somebody was pushed off a seat and I was told to go and sit down. The bus ride was fun, but quite uncomfortable.

Once we arrived, Stanley and his team took to warming up straight away, and I stayed on the side lines with some guys from his village. I remember one character really clearly, his name was Abdul, and was easily the least committed muslim I’ve ever met. I bought some cigarettes, took some pictures of Stan’s team, and then watched the game. The first half was a bit of a scrappy affair, but Stanley’s team still had the majority of the possession, and had created some good chances. Unfortunately though, they conceded about ten minutes before half time, and due to some poor defending, they left the field 1-0 down after forty five minutes. All of the players looked pretty unhappy during the team talk, and I was surprised not to hear much input of encouragement from other members of the side. Stanley was substituted about ten minutes into the second half, and I have no idea why. He was playing well, and was the one who was creating most of the opportunities. He was understandably unhappy about being subbed off, but who wouldn’t!? The game ended 1-0, and Stanley’s team were pretty devastated when they came off. They were pretty unfortunate, but the opponents number nine was a quality player and caused their defence a lot of trouble.

After the game there were some celebrations, and in this case the trophy was in the form of a goat. The winners received two goats, and the runners up, one goat. Seeing the celebrations was definitely a once in a lifetime experience. A large crowd of people gathered around and began to sing and dance, whilst holding up the goats to the sky in victory. I laughed a lot at the huge difference between cultures. Imagine seeing that in the UK? You’d probably get arrested. Remember I said about Abdul being the least committed muslim ever? As a joke he kept trying to put his penis into the goats mouth.

Stanley’s team, others from the village and I waited about half an hour on the street corner before we found a lift home. There were too many of us to take dalla dalla’s, so we waved down a big dump truck and all climbed in the back. I clung on for my life for most of the trip whilst this truck belted it down the road at what felt like about 140kph. Luckily, we got there safely. We ate dinner, which was the same food, organised what time we would leave in the morning, and then went to bed.

The next couple of days I spent on Zanzibar island, which was nice whilst it lasted. Unfortunately I got a call from my mother on Tuesday telling me that my Grandmother had deteriorated extremely quickly over the past few days and that it would be good for me to come home. I got home on Friday morning, and managed to say goodbye before she passed away on Saturday. The next week is a bit of a blur, and I don’t want to go into it.

Right now, I’m back in Arusha, where I want to be, and where my Grandmother would have wanted me to be. I will be continuing with The House that Zac Built project on Wednesday. I am thoroughly looking forward to the next month or so! 

Another meeting and a trip to Uganda

I’m sorry that it’s been a while since I last blogged. I’ve been pretty busy. I’ve had plenty of ups and downs over the past week or so, and apart from my trip to Uganda, it definitely hasn’t been one of my preferred parts of this trip.

It all started going downhill when I had a meeting with the directors of Golgotha about why sponsored children had been sent home the day before. I decided on Monday, that the next day, I would take a handful of the children who were sent home, and ask them in front of the directors why exactly there were sent back from school. On Tuesday I did just that, and it didn’t go down too well. I collected about eight children, all sponsored, who had been sent home the day before, and asked them one by one, with the help of Asa the head teacher, the reason why they had been sent home, and who had ordered them to. They all said the same thing; that they had been sent home to collect ‘school fees’ and that they had been sent home by teacher Vicki, who is the director’s wife. No surprise there then. Only Elius and Stevie (the manager) were present when we asked the children to follow us into the office, it’s a shame that Vicki wasn’t there, but we knew that she would turn up later. As promised, I asked the kids in front of the director and manager, exactly why they had been sent back home, and as before, they said that they had been sent home by Vicki to collect ‘school fees’. I could tell that I had instantly pissed them both off by the looks on their faces. I wasn’t in there alone; there were three other volunteers with me, Shelley, Amanda and Natalie. They were all happy to be there, and I needed their support to try and resolve the problem. A resolution however was not something that we got close to. I won’t go into too much detail about the next couple of hours, most of the discussion just went around and around in circles, and we didn’t get anywhere. Most of the time was spent discussing exactly what was included under the title ‘school fees’. Elius, Vicki and the Stevie were claiming that this does not cover the contribution of firewood and travel money, we were arguing that it does. When a child is sponsored, it means that their guardians shouldn’t have to pay any money at all towards school, everything we send over covers that, including firewood and travel fees. It’s a problem that needs to be resolved, but it might take a bit of time. Lucy Cottee, who’s head of UK sponsorship funds is attempting to set up a new program, whereby the money sent over goes through a local community worker whom we trust, and doesn’t go anywhere near the directors or his wife’s pockets. We also spoke about the list that Vicki had given me the day before. I had asked to see a list of all the children who were sent home that day, and she had conveniently forgotten to put the sponsored children’s names on there. Within half an hour, we got about five different answers. One of them funnily enough went something like this. ‘Vicki thought that you were going to pay for all of the children who got sent home, so she didn’t think to put the sponsored kids on there as they already have support’. So why the fuck are they still being sent home? Know what I mean? In the end, I walked out, I couldn’t stand being lied to anymore. Anyway, enough negativity, let’s talk about Uganda!

I and Lindsay, a volunteer from Canada, spoke a few weeks into my trip that we would both like to visit Uganda, and hopefully do a Gorilla trekking safari. Unfortunately, after trying a few different companies, we couldn’t find a price that was within our budgets, but we decided to go anyway! Although it was more expensive, we decided to fly there. It only takes about an hour and a half on the plane, whereas if you were to take the bus, you could spend a couple of days trying to get there. We left on Saturday morning at around seven, and got to the airport at about half ten or so. I think our flight left around midday or something. We sat outside for a while, smoking and reading, whilst we waiting for the check in counter to open. We checked in easily enough, and then passed through immigration towards the departure lounge. I get really excited these days about getting new stamps in my passport, so I was pretty stoked when I got two. When we were in the departure lounge, I caught sight of the plane we were travelling on. For those of you who don’t know, I’m not the most comfortable flyer in the world. I don’t mind big planes, and often feel safe on long haul trips, but little planes and propellers scare me shitless. I was absolutely hating it when we boarded, I popped a valium as soon as we sat down. Annoyingly, the valium didn’t kick in quickly enough and I was still anxious when we took off. I pulled my t-shirt over my head and pretended that I wasn’t there. I hate the feeling just after you take off, it doesn’t feel natural. Sweating buckets and shaking like a shitting dog, the diazepam finally kicked in and I relaxed, then I fell asleep.

Kampala is the capital of Uganda, but the main airport is in a city which sits on the outskirts of Lake Victoria, called Entebbe. I was quite surprised when we got there, the city was much more developed and modern than I had expected. I didn’t realise that Uganda was a wealthier nation than Tanzania, maybe it isn’t, but it seems like money here might go towards making the place look nicer rather than into corrupt politician’s pockets! We took a taxi from the airport to the backpackers where we had reserved to stay that night. It was a nice little place, quaint, with a lovely garden and some banana trees too! We checked in, left our bags in the room, and then headed out to see the ‘Entebbe Wildlife Education Centre’, which is just a fancy name for Entebbe Zoo. They’ve probably said it’s for educational purposes so that they don’t have to pay anything to the government, and can keep the majority of the funds for themselves and other projects. The Zoo was cool. There were monkeys wandering around everywhere, trying to steal food from people. There were the Vervet monkeys, which are the ones with the bright blue bollocks. Always a funny sight. We also saw a leopard, lions, crocodiles, snakes and got dangerously close to some white rhino’s. There was a barrier of course, but at one point I could have easily reached out and touched one. They seemed pretty tame though, and I bet they are really used to being close to humans. Still, didn’t really feel like patting one of the most dangerous animals in the world. Lindsay and I got some lunch at the restaurant there. It had a beautiful view, overlooking Lake Victoria. Lake Victoria covers a reasonable part of East Africa, and borders Tanzania, Uganda and Kenya. I had a chicken sandwich, and I think Lindsay had something vegetarian. The football was on, so I watched a bit of that and explained to Lindsay about the teams.

We decided to head into the centre after lunch. I accidently underpaid the waiter 1,000Ush, and he came running after us as we were leaving, pretty embarrassing but not a big deal. We jumped on a boda-boda into town. Lindsay took out some cash, and then we went for a short walk. The town was only really small so after about ten minutes we’d seen the whole thing. I bought some beef sausages off of the street and munched on those, the chicken sandwich didn’t quite cut it. We both felt like a drink so we went into a pub on the main road called The Four Turkeys. I thought with a name like that, the owner must be a brit. Turns out the original owners were four American’s who called themselves ‘The Four Turkeys’ (god knows why), so they named the pub after that. We sat and had a few drinks. Lindsay ordered a glass of wine, it was pretty funny when they brought it over. It was a large glass, and filled to the brim, almost spilling over the top. We laughed about how different it was to home, and that you would pay about twice as much for a third of a glass or something. We chatted to the waitress, who was really nice and explained to us the best and cheapest way to get to Kampala the following day. I also chatted briefly to a guy called Simon. He was from Kent, and I think that he was a co-owner of the bar or something. He seemed to know everybody pretty well, and wasn’t too happy with the staff when the power kept cutting out and nobody could watch the football. He was funny, and it was refreshing to have a decent bit of British humour. When we were ready to leave, I asked Simon if it was safe around Entebbe to take a boda back to the hostel. He assured us that it was fine, and he flagged one down. It was nice of him to pay for us too, and the way he went about it was hysterical. He spoke to the boda driver in English, and said something like, ‘you take these guys to the hostel, and come back with my change, because I know your fucking number plate now and you wouldn’t want me to have to come find you, would you? ROGER!?’ We laughed on the way back. After a few minutes we were back and sitting in the reception area of the hostel, more football was on the TV so I sat down and had another couple of beers. Still hungry, me and Lindsay shared a pizza, and then chatted to a German couple who were doing some travelling around East Africa for a few weeks. It had been a long day so we both crashed out pretty early.

In the morning, we paid the bill and got a taxi to Entebbe town. The German’s came with us. We hopped straight onto a ‘special taxi’ which in Tanzania are called Dalla-Dalla’s. The waitress the night before had instructed us to just put 5,000Ush into the conductors hand and say it was for two. Otherwise, they would have tried to rip us off. It worked fine, and after an hour or so we had arrived in Kampala and were at the bus station. My first impressions of Kampala were that it was pretty big, and extremely busy. I had never seen traffic like it in my life, it was what I would expect to see in somewhere like Cairo. It reminded me of Karl Pilkington sitting in his hotel room and complaining about the constant beeping of horns outside. It had started to rain, so we took a bit of shelter and asked a shop owner if he could direct two boda’s to our hotel. Another surprise of mine was that a lot of Ugandan people spoke extremely good English, and they often speak English between themselves too. This is because when the British came here in the early 20^th century, they tried to eliminate a lot of the Ugandan culture so that it would be easier to control them, and to keep hold of rights to trade etc. If you want to eliminate a culture, eliminate the language. Many Ugandan’s have however kept their mother tongue, and unlike other East African countries such as Tanzania and Kenya, they refused to adopt Kiswahili as their main language. After ten minutes or so, the shop owner had successfully pointed out where our hostel was. The drivers charged us 5,000Ush each, and said that it would take about half an hour to get there. When it only took about ten minutes, I realised that we had been ripped off. A ten minute boda journey should only really cost about three grand. The hotel seemed nice, but when we arrived it was too early to check in, so we decided to leave our bags in reception and go for a walk around the city.

It took us about half an hour or so to walk right into the centre of time. I spotted a pretty building which stood out and looked like some sort of temple, so we walked towards it and asked if we were allowed to go inside. It was Hindu temple, and those inside were more than welcoming. They let us wander around (barefoot of course), and take pictures of what we liked. It was so peaceful in there, I can sometimes see why so many people are part of religions like that but I don’t think that it would be for me. Too many God’s I reckon! We carried on walking around, not really heading for anywhere in particular. I did need to visit a chemist though, as I’d run out of my Omeprazole. It took a while to find one as most were shut due to it being Sunday, but I got there eventually. I got one hundred pills for about a fiver. That would cost me nearly fifty quid at home, so I was pretty pleased. We headed into where it seemed busiest, and eventually found ourselves in the local market. I think that it’s called Obusi Market, I don’t have a travel book to hand so I can’t look and find out for sure. It said something in the book about it being so big, that you could get lost for about two hours in there and not be able to find your way out. They were right, it was like a maze. I wasn’t really looking to buy anything apart from some boxers. I had washed mine the day before I left, but they hadn’t dried properly overnight. When we got to Entebbe I tried to hang them up at the backpackers but in the morning they were even more wet than before, so I had to spend a couple of days in commando. The smell in the market was awful, think reading festival toilets on the third day. Eventually, we found our way out, and ended up on a backstreet which felt pretty sketchy. As we walked along, there was a puddle by the side of the road, which had bubbles on top of it and looked filthy. I walked past, and for the first time in my life, I nearly vomited there on the spot from the stench which this puddle was omitting. Now think reading festival toilets day five, mixed with bestival toilets day three, and a little bit of rotting flesh too. I quickly turned left off the street and we were back into the market. It was worrying how close the fruit and vegetable stores were to that foul smell. I found a stall with some boxers, but I really struggled to get a good price. I got a nosebleed half was through bargaining and had to do most of it with my head cocked back and tissue up my nose. I’ve only ever had one nose bleed before and that’s when I’ve been punched in the face, so I was a little worried when this one came on. I bought some boxers, and then we walked to try and find somewhere to eat lunch. I spat out big clumps of blood a couple of times which freaked me out a bit, but it stopped eventually, and when I didn’t get another nosebleed, I stopped worrying. It must have been something to do with that fucking smell.

We couldn’t find anywhere decent to eat in town, so we headed back towards the hotel where I knew there was a good Turkish restaurant nearby. It was nice to sit down. I got some bread and hummus for a starter and then had a steak and chips for lunch. I’m not sure what meat the steak was exactly but it definitely didn’t taste like beef. Oh well, I still enjoyed it. We headed back to the hotel, checked our bags into the room and then decided that we would go and Visit the Kasubi tombs. We asked at reception which would be the cheapest way and if it was okay to get boda’s there. They told us that the boda drivers would charge us about 20,000Ush each and that it would be better to get a taxi which they would call for us. We told them no thanks, and went and asked the boda drivers how much it would be to get there. We agreed on 4,000 each, what a surprise! The receptionists were just trying to get some money through commission and had right out lied to us. It’s very common here, so we didn’t get too wound up about it. It took about fifteen minutes to get there, it was a nice drive, and a good way to see a little bit more of the city from the back of the motorbikes. There was a guide waiting outside for us. His name was Stephen, an elderly man with a calming and interesting tone of voice. He signed us in, then sat us down and explained about the history of the four Ugandan kings, who were buried just a few minutes’ walk from where we were sitting. In the Lonely Planet book, it had recommended this tour but said that sometimes it can get a little crowded, which can ruin the experience. That wasn’t the case at all for us, and the reason why was quite surprising. In 2010, the Ugandan army had moved into Somalia to get rid of an Al Qaida official who I think is called Al Habib. He was running a lot of illegal operations there, and could have been behind a lot of the kidnappings of tourists too. When the Ugandan army successfully pushed Al Habib and his men out of Somalia, they wanted to get back at the Ugandan’s. They did this by sneaking into Uganda and burning down their only world heritage site, the Kasubi tombs. It was a real shame that we didn’t get to see the tomb as it was before. We saw pictures of course, but the sight was a wreck. The steels which were placed there in the 80’s to help stabilise the building were tattered on each side, and the rest of the tomb was covered in tar palling. Stephen made up for it though, his stories and knowledge about the place were so interesting that I didn’t mind just walking around and listening at all. He took us to a few houses around which the king had used for different things. One of them was where the King’s children, who he had many of, as he had something like fifty four wives, would be taken too after birth and have their umbilical cords removed. They would then test if the child was righteous by seeing if the umbilical cord floated in water or not. If it sank, then they were believed to be sent by the devil. He didn’t say what happened if they were believed to be from the devil, but I’m sure it wasn’t pretty. We walked around for a little longer, and stayed a short while in the graveyard where the King’s relatives were buried. There was a lovely view from the city here. You could see the cathedral on one side of the city, and the main mosque on the other side, also on top of a hill. Stephen explained the King had placed them here on purpose so that he could keep an eye on their movements, all tactical. We headed back to the hotel shortly afterwards, and spent the rest of the evening there. Chelsea were playing Man United, so I watched that, but after a few beers I was knackered again and needed to crash out.

The next morning we had to get up pretty early, as we were being picked up from near the hotel at around 7 15am. We had arranged booked in with a company a few days before to go white water rafting on the river Nile. I was pretty excited in the morning, but tired too so I couldn’t get too into it. We stopped at a couple of other hostels on the way where we picked up some other people. Three lads, two from Australia and one from New Zealand seemed pretty nice and I chatted them for a bit. Elliot was the Kiwi one, and the other two, Tom and Callum, were from Melbourne. When we arrived it was all a bit disorganised but soon enough we were on our way to the river. I’d started to get really excited by the time we got there and started getting our life jackets on etc. We found a group of seven, Lindsay and I, the Aussies and the Kiwi, and a Dutch couple who had come on the bus with us. The Dutch guy was 7ft tall, no word of a lie, I’d never seen somebody that tall in my life. It was pretty funny to see him try and squeeze in the space he had on the raft though! We met our instructor for the day who was called Hassan. He was a nice guy, a Muslim, but with a great sense of humour. The two girls were pretty nervous and he did all he could to make them feel more uncomfortable. Telling them shit like he couldn’t swim, and that people get seriously injured on the rapids every day, broken arms and legs are common etc. Lindsay’s face was a picture. We practiced paddling together, and went through drills and what to do when he shouted out certain things. We also practiced what to do if we flipped over which was really fun. It was nice to be in the water, I hadn’t been swimming in a long time and it made me remember how much I enjoy it.

My adrenaline was going pretty hard by the time we approached the first rapid. It was about a six metre waterfall, and classed as a grade five rapid so going down in was pretty gnarly, a good way to get straight into it. The front of the boat slowly lent over the edge and then nosed dived, crashing front first into the water and bending the raft like crazy. I was glad we didn’t flip on the first rapid, I wouldn’t really have been ready. It was great fun though, the adrenaline buzz I got was intense and just what I had come here for. Each rapid had a name, and I apologise but I can’t remember any of them. Between each rapid there was usually a large span of calm water where we could relax, chat, and paddle a little before we got to the next one. After four rapids, and about two hours having gone by, it was mine and Lindsay’s time to get off the river and go for the twilight quad biking safari which we had decided to do. We hadn’t paid for it though, and because we’d had so much fun on the first half of the rafting, and knowing that the last two rapid were the craziest, we decided to carry on and do a full day. It was a good call. Just before lunch, there was a grade six rapid that none of us were allowed to go down, it’s simply too dangerous and only professionals can tackle such aggressive water. We pulled over to the side of the river and walked along the banks. A few of us walked right up to the side and looked over the grade six rapid. It was huge, the energy and noise that it was producing was incredible, one of those things where you could sit and stare all day long. But we got hurried along back into our rafts and then we were ready for lunch.  Still in our rafts on the water, the guys on the safety boat quickly prepared pineapple into quarters for us all to eat, we had biscuits too. It was an odd lunch, I was expecting something more substantial but it did the job anyway. Hassan said something funny. It had started pouring down with rain a few minutes before and he explained that eating biscuits in this weather wasn’t a good idea, as a ‘soggy biscuit just looks like baby shit’.

The seventh rapid, and the second to last one, was the worst one for me. We went down it pretty smoothly first time around, but for some reason Hassan ordered us to paddle right back into it, we came up to a section where fast water was coming in from all directions and suddenly flipped. I wasn’t expecting it, and didn’t have a good grip of the side of the boat when I was chucked over board. I tried to surface, but instead of remaining calm like the instructors told us to do I panicked. I got stuck in a whirlpool, and my body was being chucked around in all directions underwater as I thrashed around to get to the top. I had a short second where I got above water, and took a huge breath, as I did this, I was smacked in the face by a huge wave and started to choke on a load of water. Thrown back underneath, being thrown around like crazy and choking on that gulp of water, I thought that I was going to drown. I genuinely said to myself in my head, that ‘this is it, I’m going to die here’. Luckily enough I surfaced again a little bit down the river and managed to cling on to the boat. Pale as anything, terrified and shaking, I managed to get into the boat where the Aussies and others laughed at me. I laughed afterwards too. I wish we had got my face on Go Pro but it was the only time that they didn’t use it. I knew that the last rapid was going to be even bigger and it was pretty likely that we would flip again, so I had to psych myself up the whole way. When we got there, I was nervous, but excited at the same time. We went down first. It was all going fairly smoothly until we got hit by a huge wave on the front of the boat and flipped over backwards. Instead of panicking this time, I relaxed and surfaced pretty quickly, we were all shouting and jeering until we got hit by a huge wave which sent us all under for a few seconds again. Before I knew it, I was about fifty metres downstream and getting pulled along by such a strong current. Elliot, Tom and Callum were around, we laughed and talked about how intense that last one had been. We freaked a little bit when all we saw was a helmet popping out of the water, and couldn’t see Lindsay anywhere. Turns out she was okay though, and it was Hassan who had lost his helmet. We got back into the raft and headed for an early dinner. The food was good, and the fact that they provided beer was a bonus. We checked out some of the photo’s which the guys had taken, and laughed as we saw ourselves being chucked out, there were petrified faces in there too! After an hour or so, we hopped back into the van and drove back to where we would be staying that night. I chatted to an Irish lady called Hannah, she was lovely, but hadn’t really enjoyed the rafting, said that it scared her too much and that she would rather be riding a horse. I’d rather sky dive than get on a fucking horse, they scare the shit out of me, and it’s my mum’s fault. She put me on one when I was younger and it legged it, I was so scared, never again thanks.

We drank a fair bit at the bar that night. I copped a lot of stick from the Aussies for not doing a beer bong and quickly accepted being called a pussy for the night. It didn’t bother me too much, I’d gotten used to it whilst I was in Australia. I had an odd argument with a Kiwi dude who had told me to leave the area where he table was, as I was apparently too angry. This was odd because I was the happiest that I had been in a while, and was only looking around for a lighter. I pointed at him and let him know that I thought he was an idiot. He came over to our table later that night to have a go at me again, but his girlfriend pulled him away and apologised, saying he’d had too much to drink. I’m not quite sure what his problem was, maybe he fancied me or something, typical Kiwi’s, backwards. We decided that night that we wouldn’t go back to Kampala the next day, there wasn’t much to do and Lindsay just wanted to look at Mosque’s. I told her about a charity that was being run close by, and explained that they do tours of their projects and you can help out for a day too, she thought it sounded cool and decided to come along.

Callum was pretty hungover in the morning, he had drunk way to much the night before. Apparently he ended up naked, and was lingering around the campsite doing cartwheels. He was a pretty funny dude. We had breakfast. I ordered a fry up, which cost me a little bit so I was a bit annoyed when the sausages came out raw. I sent them back and just told the guy to burn the shit out of them. When you ordered food here, it would come out to the bar and then the guy would shout out your name, usually pronouncing it wrong. He didn’t know mine, so when it came out he was just shouting ‘sausages! sausages!’ It was pretty funny, but maybe one of those ones where you had to be there. They were cooked, but I still felt ill afterwards. Worrying about getting salmonella, we met with Kibi, one of the directors of Soft Power Education, and he talked to us a little about the project before we headed out to see if for ourselves. He was a really nice guy, with good English and a decent sense of humour too. We headed out shortly afterwards. It didn’t take us long to get to the primary school section, the kids were in class, so Kibi spoke a bit more about the scale of the project that they were running, I didn’t realise quite how big their reach was, what they have achieved is amazing. The primary school kids came out, we played with them for a bit, did a few dances and the hokey pokey as well, it was fun, and nice to be around children again, they make you feel happy. Hope I don’t sound like a pedo here.

 After that, we walked about fifteen minutes towards the headquarters. I was amazed at how developed it was, it really showed how if you have the right people running things, and working hard towards getting good sponsors and donations, you can really make a difference in poor communities. We were shown around, and explained about the renewable energy program they were running. They used human waste, cow manure and other substances to create gas, which they then used to cook with etc. The main aim for this is to try to educate people to stop using so much wood, and to find more renewable ways of providing energy and gas. Kibi said that 98% of people in Uganda don’t have gas or electricity, and their population is over 34 million. Quite an amazing figure when you think about it. When the power goes out on a street at home, it’s like the end of the world, but here people just accept it and make do. The school here even had a computer room, a theatre, an arts room, and their own vegetable garden too. The children who get to go to this school really are fortunate, the impact it could have on their futures is huge, and I really appreciated how much hard work had gone into this project. I decided that I would be interested in coming back here at some point, and hopefully volunteering for them, possibly with disabled children. I got a couple of email addresses and phone numbers to call, I haven’t emailed yet as I’m not quite sure what my plans are for the next month or so. My priority is Mama Mary and the house, but going to Uganda for a little bit just made me want to travel around even more and see other parts of Africa. I plan to, but I need to get the house finished first.

Part of the tour involved us going to a local school, which Soft Power Education ran, and helping to paint some of the walls in the classrooms. Everybody got quite into it and cracked on, but I sat back and watched. I didn’t want to get paint on my t-shirt. I know it sounds pathetic but it was my WHY? T-shirt, and it’s one of my favourites. I bailed shortly afterwards and walked into one of the classrooms where the kids were revising English in preparation for their forthcoming end of year tests. They were all pretty distracted by me, I wasn’t sure if they’d ever been so close to a white person before, but they seemed to be enjoying it which was cool. I helped the teacher do some marking, and spoke with her about the sad situation of some of the children. A lot of them were orphaned, and were HIV positive. It’s so common across Africa but it never fails to get you down when you see it right in front of you. I guess they just have to make the most of their lives and do what they can to enjoy it, Soft Power Education is definitely helping to do that. The teacher left, so I just started messing around with the kids, tickling them, chasing them etc. Tom came and joined in, we took pictures and a few videos, every time the flash went on the camera the kids went nuts! Screaming and jumping around like crazy, it was good fun. It started to rain pretty heavily, so we headed over to the room where the other people on the trip were sitting. Kibi was handing out t-shirts and seeing if we wanted to buy one. It took me a while to find one which I liked and had a good fit, but in the end I got a nice blue one. I like it, possibly a new favourite. We ate lunch, but didn’t have enough forks or spoons to go around so we had to eat the majority of our meal with our hands. Very unsanitary, and I’m pretty sure that was what messed my stomach up for the past few days. It rained, and rained and rained. We were all pretty tired and wanting to get back to the campsite, I think Kibi noticed, so he put a cover on top of the van that we came in. All soaking wet from the short walk to the truck, we piled into the back and headed home. The journey was fun, sketchy but fun. We were so cramped in the back, and somebody let an absolutely stinker go, which wasn’t very pleasant. The guys all laughed about it, the girls definitely weren’t impressed. I did some Bear Gryll’s impressions about the danger of this terrain to pass the time. We got back and I went to sleep for a few hours, when I woke up it was pretty late and everybody had cracked on with drinking. We had decided not go on the booze cruise that evening, and judging by the state of the people who had at eight o clock in the evening, I was pretty glad that we hadn’t. They were all an absolute mess, it was funny to watch. I stayed up pretty late chatting with a girl who was from Brighton, she had assumed that I was gay, typical. Shortly after that I went and crashed out.

The next day we had a flight leaving Entebbe airport at 1 40pm. After saying goodbye to people, exchanging numbers and email addresses, we left the campsite at around eight, as it could take four hours to get to the airport. The drive was nice, but a bit sketchy. About half an hour in we saw an overturned truck with a dead body lying limp against the window of the cabin, not the nicest thing to see in the morning. When we arrived in Entebbe I asked the driver if he could take us to a chemist so I could grab some valium for the plane, I’d lost mine. He said he would take us but then ending up driving straight to the airport, I wasn’t very happy with him. Not the end of the world though so we went into the airport and checked in. We were told at check in that our flight was delayed for an hour, leaving us with three hours until departure. I didn’t want to sit around the airport for ages, so I asked at the counter if I could go to Entebbe and come back later on. They then told us that the flight had been cancelled. Lindsay and I were pretty pissed off, as they didn’t seem too apologetic about it, and one of them was laughing. Not very professional but that’s Africa for you. They wouldn’t let me go back into Entebbe, so I kicked up a bit of a fuss and asked them how they expect to be flying direct to Paris and London soon if they can’t even find a second plane if one has a technical problem, they didn’t answer. We waiting around for an hour or so, and went for the occasional cigarette. I chatted to a guy called Kane, who was a marketing manager for Heineken in East Africa. It seemed like he had a good job, and I spoke to him about my hope to one day live in Africa but that I was worried about not making enough money. He lived in Nairobi, and told me about the current economic growth rate in Kenya, and how there were many opportunities to start different businesses there. I thought hard for a while and came up with a rough idea of something that I could do. I’m not telling you though, I want to keep it a secret in case one of you steals my idea. I think it’s a good one. Eventually, the airline got us onto a flight to Nairobi, and then a connecting flight from there to Kilimanjaro airport, which is about an hour out of Arusha. It was so nice to get back. Of course we had to wait around again for an hour or so until the shuttle left, but it was worth it when we got back. It’s strange how much it felt like I was coming home, I really love Arusha, and I like the people I’m living with a lot too. It was lovely to see Jennica too, I had missed her. 

progress and corruption

I’ve done that thing again where I forget most of what I’ve done over the past week, so I’m sorry if this is a little brief. I really should start writing things down.

The Sunday a week after I was diagnosed with Malaria, I had started to feel really well again. I decided to go and play some football with another volunteer called Aaron. Aaron is from Seattle, and is here with his wife Emily for six months. He’s a big fan of football, and a decent centre back too. We turned up to Soweto, the pitch about fifteen minutes away from where we live, at around 11am. We introduced ourselves to the guys who were already knocking a ball around, and asked if there was a chance that we could get a game. They were happy to have us and after fifteen minutes or so we’d kicked off. I won’t say much about the game because I played pretty shit, and missed three absolute sitters. Oh well.

The following week was going to be a big one in regards to the progress of Mama Mary’s new house. On Monday, I paid out 972,000tsh, which is about four hundred pounds. This paid for the last lorry load of soil, twelve iron bars, twenty pieces of lenter wood, ten grams of nails, twenty bags of cement, and one 6mm iron bar. This was so that by the end of the week, everything would be ready to start the roof. The plan was to have the walls finished by mid-week, then to install iron rods on top of the walls, which are then covered with cement. This is to secure the walls, and to ensure that the roof will be stable.

Come Thursday, the progress they had made was astonishing! The walls were so high I couldn’t believe it. It looked like a million dollar mansion compared to the house that they live in now! They had fitted the iron rods, and were just adding some extra layers of bricks on top. Mama Mary as usual was extremely happy. She’s always inviting me in the house, but most of the time I have to tell her that I needed at the school too (which I am). I usually go and visit them on the weekends, it’s a lot easier and means that I get to spend a bit more time with them. That afternoon, I was invited around to a friend’s house. Jenifer, a Tanzania girl, works at Empire, which is the bar that I go to most nights. I know her from last year, and we stayed in contact whilst I was away. She’s really nice, very pretty, and also very funny. Her facial expressions are great.  A lot of Tanzania people (especially women) make noises to express how they are feeling, clicks of their tongues or just strange sounds. I haven’t met any who do it as much as Jenifer, and it really makes me laugh. She cooked me Chaga food for lunch. Chaga is a tribe from just outside of Arusha, and Jenifer’s mother is part of this tribe. Jenifer left the tribe to ‘get a real life’. Chaga food is made with green bananas, beef, and vegetables and is served as a stew. It was actually really, really nice. One of the best Tanzania meals I’ve ever had. After lunch, we chatted a bit. I had to explain to her how there were lots of black people in England, but that there weren’t any tribes. She found it hard to get her head around that one! Then one of her elder brothers came around. I’ve forgotten his name, but he seemed like a pretty nice guy. He pulled out a couple of smalls bags from his rucksack and emptied the contents on to the floor. I was amazed when I saw what was inside them. Inside were lots of different minerals found in Tanzania. He had Tanzanite, Emeralds, and a few others which I’ve forgotten the name of. I wanted to buy some of the emerald off of him, but he told me that for a really small piece, it was about 100,000tsh, that’s about forty quid! I wasn’t prepared to pay that much. He must be doing alright for himself though!

On Friday, I had to pay out some more money towards the house. This was to pay for all of the materials needed to complete the roof. I paid out around another four hundred pounds. I was late in getting the money to the builder that day, as I had a nightmare finding an ATM in the city which was working. Eventually I had to call one of my taxi drivers to come and find me, and take me across the other side of the city to the big Barclays bank. Getting the money to Kiara late, meant that no work was done that day, and they would start on the roof on Sunday. I wasn’t too bothered to be honest as I wasn’t sure if I was going away that weekend or not. A couple of people in the house had planned to go to Pangani, a beach resort about eight hours east of Arusha. I decided not to in the end, as I had quite a few things to sort out! That evening, Jennica, Grace and I decided to go and eat out. We went to Maasai café, which is the best place to get a pizza in Arusha. It was nice for us to go out together. Things between me and Grace haven’t been so good over the past two weeks, because of an argument over a chicken. We have a chicken that roams around the garden and even sometimes comes in the house, which does nothing useful, and just shits everywhere. I proposed that we chop it’s head off and give the meat to somebody who needs it, or even take it to the chicken coup at Golgotha. Grace wasn’t happy about it as she’s become attached to the chicken. She was crying about it, which I thought was pathetic, and I said a couple of things which were a bit out of order. Heat of the moment sort of thing. But since then I’ve apologised over the matter, and decided to leave the chicken alone. It still annoys me, but I’d rather be friends with Grace. It took ages for our Pizza’s to come, and as per usual in Tanzania the service was shit. I tried not to get annoyed and waited as patiently as I could for the food. It was worth the wait, the pizza was amazing, but I ate it too quickly. When we went to Empire afterwards, after a couple of beers my indigestion was so bad that I just wanted to go home. They were both cool with it, so we went and chilled back at the house.

On Saturday I had a few things to sort out. I had to look into flying to Uganda for the following weekend, where I was planning on going Gorilla trekking with a couple of house mates. Flights weren’t too bad, but yesterday I found out that the overall cost for the trek was way too much and exceeded my budget, so I backed out. I’m still going to go and do some white water rafting though which will be pretty exciting! I visited Mama Mary on Saturday afternoon, and went down with Jennica and Harriet. Harriet is from the UK, and has just finishing studying an engineering degree at Bristol Uni. She’s absolutely lovely, and we get along well. One of her close friends is a sister of Lucy Cottee. I’m sure I’ve mentioned Lucy before, she has a lot to do with Golgotha and is one of the people who set up the sponsorship program for the UK. It’s nice to have a friend of a friend in the house! The visit was lovely as usual, we sat around for an hour or so, taking pictures, and playing with the kids. The children love taking pictures with the cameras, I have to remind them to be really careful each time though, as some of them are pretty expensive! We got some lovely pictures, and one really great one of me and Mama Mary sitting on her almost complete new doorstep! I decided that I would buy Mama Mary some food for the week so we went along to the shop together. Harriet was getting touched up by some guy clearly high on glue, so I stood up to him and told him to do one. It didn’t do much good, but when Mama Mary stepped in and shouted at him, he cleared off pretty quick. It was pretty funny. I bought them 5kg’s of rice, 5kg’s of flour and a few kilo’s of beans, which should keep them going for a week or so. Jenny chipped in 10,000tsh which was nice of her! Soon after that we headed home, I was pretty tired when we got back, but when Grace invited me and Jen to a nearby bar to meet her new Maasai friend, I felt like I could do with a beer or two. Meeting her friend was nice. His name is Nick, and I think he’s in his late twenties. He’s a miner, and deals with Tanzanite and Emerald stones, just like Jenifer’s brother. We chatted for a while, and then me and Jen decided to go home. We left Grace and Nick together! They were already pretty comfortable together, and it made me happy to see Grace happy around him!

I didn’t get much sleep that night thanks to Jen who couldn’t sleep, and decided not to let me sleep either, so when it came to playing football the morning afterwards, I was completely knackered. I played worse than the week before, and by the time we were 6-1 down, I subbed myself off and decided to go home. A lot of people from the house were away on trips this weekend, Matt is climbing Kilimanjaro, a few others were on Safari, some were doing Kilimanjaro base climb, and Kristin and Lindsay had gone to Pangani. This meant that it was nice and quiet, and really easy to just relax. Aaron and Emily came over, I sat and chatted with them for a bit before I needed to have a nap. When I woke up it had started to get dark, Aaron and Emily were just leaving, and Grace had already left to go and meet Nick again.

Today I couldn’t get up until late, so I texted one of the teachers at school to say I had a lot of things to do and that I would be in later that morning. I got to school at about eleven. One of the first things I noticed was that there weren’t many kids there. I asked Samson, who was teaching the elder class, where all of the kids were. He told me that they had all been sent home because of not being able to pay school fees, which include travel on the school bus, and money towards firewood for the school. I asked him if kids who were sponsored had been sent home to, and he said yes. I was a bit confused, because the children who are sponsored, aren’t supposed to have to pay anything towards the school at all. He was clearly concerned about what was going on, as have the teachers and volunteers for the past few months. The problem has arisen that a lot of the sponsorship money isn’t getting to the children, and isn’t being accounted for. Samson kindly gave me a list of exactly which children are sponsored and were sent home in the morning. I then asked Vicki, the co-director and part of the management team at the school to write me a list of exactly who was sent home in the morning. Conveniently, none of the sponsored children who had been sent home were on the list. I asked her where they were, and was told that they were sick. I then asked that why when I ask my class where Ramla is (who is sponsored), they tell me that she’s gone home because she can’t pay fees. They came up with another excuse. Something along the lines of the children just assuming that they couldn’t pay fees because others had been sent home for that exact reason. I am an honest person, and I hate it when I’m lied to. It really pissed me off. I spoke to Lucy and Cassie about it, and told them that I would follow it up tomorrow. I’m planning on getting all of the twelve or fifteen odd kids who were apparently sick today in the office, and asking them in front of management whether they were sick, or sent home because of school fees. If they say school fees, then I’m pretty sure that all sponsorship money from abroad will come to an end. It’s obviously not what any of us want. But we sure as hell don’t want the money going into our directors and his wives pockets either! 

saturday, sunday, malaria

So Saturday and Sunday were both pretty interesting, both in very different ways. The rest of this week has been pretty boring as I’ve spent all of it at home!

On Saturday morning I decided that I was going to go to the football ground and see if there were any locals playing. As I was about to leave, I told Kristen (a girl from Konnecticut who’s mad about football) that I was going. She ditched her plans to go have brunch with people at a cafe in town and came along with me. We walked a different way than usual towards the main road. We spoke about each other’s plans, and what we’ve achieved so far. She told me something very interesting about a program set up recently in the states. It’s especially for people who don’t want to or chose not to go to university. This program grants you $100,000 USD, to go and set up your own business, charity, organisation etc. As long as you can prove you are a good candidate, have a clear idea of what you want to do, and can back it up with paperwork then you can get this money for free and you never have to pay it back. I’m going to look into it very closely. With my experiences in the past two years from travelling, working and after I have built this house, I might be able to apply. I think I’d use it to set up a charity which builds houses for poor people in Tanzania, or set up a proper business in South America. Don’t want to get too ahead of myself though, I haven’t even googled this dude yet, infact, I’ve forgotten his name. ANYWAY, after stopping at the supermarket and getting some Samosas, we got there at about 10 45. Last year, at this time on a Saturday, the place would have been full of locals wanting a match. This year it’s changed a bit unfortunately. There was one guy sitting behind the goal with his boots in his lap, and then a crowd of people in the distance. We approached, but as we got closer, it turned out that they were all children. I spoke to the coach and he said that nobody plays on Saturdays anymore, only Sundays. Annoying. Kristen and I decided to walk to Africafe to meet the others where they were getting brunch.

On the way we spoke mainly about Breaking Bad and how amazing the fourth season was. Neither of us have seen the fifth one yet, and we were trying to work out what happens in it. It took us a good half an hour to get to the café, with a guy called Freddie pestering us most of the way, wanting us to buy his paintings. When we arrived, the others from the house had only just arrived too, which was lucky. We were worried that we would miss them. We changed tables about three times which really annoyed me. I was also wearing football socks, Italy shorts, and a Liverpool top so I looked like a right twat. We ordered, ate and chatted. I had a BLT. It was alright, but wasn’t enough so I had to get some chips aswell. I had asked Jennica the day before if she had wanted to go and meet Mama Mary, she said yeah but I double checked at the meal. She was still up for it which was cool, and seemed pretty excited about it too. I asked if anybody else would like to come along, Nadja said she would which was great. We headed down to friends corner and jumped on a Dalla towards Swahilini. When we got there, Jennica and Nadja said they would like to buy something for Mama before they arrived. They bought some rice and a big bar of soap. When we got to the house, some of the daughters were around, including Francisca and Vicki, but there was no sign of Mama or Agripina. I asked where she was, they said that she had gone to church, but it wouldn’t be too long until she got back. We waited around. I showed Jennica the build so far, and where the bedrooms would be etc. It was nice to see the house coming along and to be able to show it to other people!

It was lovely when Mama arrived. She hugged us, thanked us, and invited us inside. There were loads of other kids from around the village hanging about. Mama Mary shouted at a few of them and told them to give us some room, they did for a bit, but all came back eventually. We sat and just chatted among ourselves for a bit. It was nice, as always, not much understanding between us and the family, but we manage. I’ve started taking the piss out of the way Mama Mary she says stuff, it’s hard to explain in writing but ask me and I’ll do the impression. Then I got the kids doing a bit of singing, it was wicked. We did most of the songs that we usually do in school, plus a few others that I’ve been getting them to do. Stuff like, saying ‘Aggy Aggy Aggy’ and they say ‘OI OI OI’. I do it with all of the kid’s names in the class when they get something right on the board. They love it. It’s a bit unconventional and I’m pretty sure some of the teachers don’t agree with it but oh well. It makes them smile, that’s all I give a shit about. We messed around with cameras and video cameras too. I think Jennica filmed quite a lot of it, because she left the memory card for her normal camera at home. What a muppet. The kids love taking pictures, and they find it so funny when they see their own faces on the digital screen. We must have been there for a good hour and a half before the food came out. We had told Mama that we had already eaten lunch and that we could only possibly eat a small portion. They brought in a humungous bowl of rice and beans and put it on the bottom of a bucket in front of us. There were about seven or eight spoons hanging out of the side of it, which made all of us feel a little less concerned! It was so hot that I burnt my mouth on my first mouthful, everybody laughed at me. Mama Mary was going ‘Oooooo pole sana, pole sana, pole sana baba’. I think it means ‘I’m so sorry my Son’ but I’m not sure. I always tell her that she’s my second Mum, she loves it. Cassie told me a while back that she had always wanted a son. It comes in handy in this culture, to have somebody more likely to make more money for the family. It would all be so much easier for her if the Dad had stuck around and wasn’t a drunk, but oh well. We finished off a second portion, just about, and sat there, completely stuffed. It had gotten to about half three in the afternoon so we decided to call it a day. We said our goodbye’s, and then walked towards the Dalla. The children came with us as usual, and Mama Mary walked about half of the way. Jennica and Nadja seemed really happy, and said it had been the best day for them so far.

 On the way home, and on our way to catch the second Dalla, we walked past the football stadium. There was some music playing, and a game on, too. I asked if we could go inside to watch, and I wanted to find out if I could play a bit. They weren’t too sure but told me to go and ask somebody on the sideline. I spoke to the guy and he said that I might be able to and that I just needed to wait until half time. I asked him what the game was for. He told me that it was a fundraiser for a local school. I headed back to Jenny and Nadja who I’d left at the gate. We decided to go in. It costs us 3,000tsh each which really isn’t much, about a quid. We sat up in the stands and watched the game. One team were clearly better than the others, and were just all over them. They scored a couple of good goals, but it was so one sided that it was boring. Half time came around, so I headed towards the side line and asked if I could play for a bit. They were more than happy to have me play. The team was pretty young, there were some kids in there who must have only been about thirteen or something. I swapped shirts with one kid and then headed onto the pitch. The other team kicked off, and scored straight away. Pretty annoying. I got a few touches, made a few decent passes, and got forward a bit, too. But every time we lost the ball, our defence was so unorganised and tired out that they just walked it into our goal. Their keeper was so up his own arse that when we kicked off he was standing half way up the pitch. I told the guys to kick off, and that I would try and lob him from the half way line. The keeper didn’t clock on. The laid it back to me, I took one touch, and gave it a good old hoof. It bounced about a yard wide of the goal, I was gutted. But my effort was recognised and appreciated by both teams. The game finished, don’t want to mention the score. I had a picture taken with the team. I was pretty out of breath, been smoking too much. I headed back into the stands to sit with Jenny and Nadja. We hung around for a bit, watched the kids do a little theatre production, and then headed home. It had been a really nice day. I was really up the night too.

We decided to go to Empire. Pretty much everybody was there from the other volunteer house, too. I ended up getting completely hammered. You could tell just by looking at my eyes that I wasn’t really too sure what was going on, I could hardly speak either. Too much tequila. Beer, tequila and rum, doesn’t go. Matt (who is the guy that I’ve been sharing the room with) and I decided to get Boda’s home. I took Jenny on the back and he took Kristen. It was so much fun. We thought about doing it last night, but when you’re sober, it doesn’t seem like so much of a good idea. They are so dangerous. Fall off of one of those without a helmet and you’re fucked. Or they will drive you into the middle of nowhere and rob you, whichever you prefer really. I passed out on the sofa. When I woke up I was feeling rotten.

That morning we were heading to Tinga Tinga. Which is an area inhabited by the Maasai, about a three hour drive out of Arusha. Zaci, who is our guard, is a Maasai warrior. He was taking us that day to visit his family. We hired a driver to take us there and back for the day. It didn’t cost much which was good. I was feeling so rough when I got in the car, but it was self-inflicted so I tried to stomach it. We pulled into a garage to fill up on fuel. I decided that I needed to throw up so I went around the corner and chucked up everywhere, even on my shoes. It was all just liquid so I figured I’d got all of last night’s booze out of me. I felt so much better afterwards and walked towards the car with a smile on my face. I started feeling rough again about fifteen minutes later. We’d just got out of Arusha and onto the main road, and I needed to vomit again. I got out quickly and did my thing. Similar story, all liquid, horrible though. I questioned then what was going on. I never usually throw up from drinking, especially not the next day. So twice was unusual for me. Fifteen minutes later, it happened again, worse this time. I was bringing up bile and food from the day before too, something wasn’t right. I thought about calling a TVE, or a taxi, and going home right then. But I decided to man it up and carry on, I wanted to see Zaci’s village, and I wanted to see them slaughter a goat! But it just got worse, I threw another two times on the way. We stopped at a shop where I tried to drink a soda water to see if I could stomach it. I ended up having to lie down outside the shop. Almost unable to move, and feeling so sick I couldn’t think about going any further. But we’d come so far, and we were only a few minutes off the road which leads us to Tinga Tinga, so I decided to carry on. Kim and Grace were laughing at me, telling me to ‘man up’ and that it was only a hangover. I knew something else was going on but I tried to ignore it. The bumpy road to Tinga Tinga was nightmarish. I had started to feel dizzy, and I was getting really worried about staying hydrated. Everything I was drinking was coming back up, and we were driving into the middle of nowhere.

 When we arrived, I couldn’t get out of the car, so I tried to stay in there and sleep. It got too hot, and I was struggling to breath. Sweating out, I left the car and found some shade next to a local’s house. I sat there for a few minutes. Grace, Kim and Kristen sounded like they were having a good time, I could hear them laughing in the distance. Jenny however, wasn’t. She was worried about me and came over to make sure I was okay. I threw up again behind a big cement thing which I think was there to hold water. My vision started to go blurry, my legs started aching, I was panting heavily trying to get air, and I began to become seriously concerned that I wouldn’t be able to make it home. I was scared that I was going to die. Where I was, was the last place in the world that I could ever think of being that sick. Jennica stayed with me for most of the time, but I told her to go and enjoy herself and that I would be fine. She headed off. Zaci came to me every five minutes to check on me, and would say ‘pole sana’, over and over. That means, ‘I’m so sorry’. Whenever you’re sick in Tanzania, or even have an injury, locals will come up to you and say this. It’s a lovely part of the culture. I asked the driver when we would be leaving, he said in about half an hour. I was deteriorating quickly, and needed to get out of there. Eventually, after about another hour, and having to organise paying the village for letting us visit (which nobody expected), we were back on the road. I threw up about twenty minutes later, again. Then I managed to fall asleep.

When I woke up we were on the main road and back in Arusha. I told the driver that I needed to go straight to the hospital. Kim and Grace, still mocking me and calling it a bad hangover, asked if I should go home to try and sleep it off first. I wanted to kill both of them, or atleast tell them to fuck off. But I didn’t have enough energy too. The driver made a few calls to the TVE staff to arrange which hospital to go to, and after about twenty minutes we had arrived. I paid my share for the driver, and headed inside to the hospital. I got to see a doctor within about half an hour. I led down in the waiting area most of the time, and when I had to stand up the pain was pretty intense. My back and legs were killing me, especially my knees. I thought to myself that I might just be dehydrated, and that playing football the day before and sleeping in the car could explain for the sore back and legs. When I saw the doctor he sent me for a blood test. He pricked my finger with a sharp blade and took a couple of samples. I led down outside again. Jennica stayed with me the whole time, she even sorted out paying for things for me. I couldn’t do anything. I’d been thinking for the past few hours that I might have Malaria, but I was trying to dismiss it as I know how dangerous it can be. Well, it can be fatal. Before I got to see the doctor again, Nancy, my house manager arrived with our favourite taxi driver, Vallent. She said straight away that I looked like I had malaria and my symptoms were pretty standard. We waited for quite a while, I went to the toilet and dry reached a couple of times, there was nothing left in my stomach. Finally we got to see the doctor. He flicked through the blood test results and said in a typical African accent, ‘O my friend you have Malaria, I’m so sorry’. It was an odd feeling when he told me this, a mix of relief because I knew that I would be treated, but also fear of what was going to happen. I walked outside, hugged Jennica and told her that it was Malaria. I had to lie down again, so Nancy sorted out my medication for me. I had to get two injections there, one anti sickness and one anti-malarial. She put both in one and stuck it in my arse, it fucking hurt. I hobbled out and got in the taxi to go home. Oh yeah I forgot to mention. The Malaria that I had was number six. Which is really high, and the fact that I was able to walk was pretty impressive. Nancy said how she had number four and had to spend four days in hospital. They gave me four more shots, and some needles. We arranged to have Emily, a nurse who is volunteering here, to give me them every evening.

When I got home I told Kim and Grace that I had malaria and their faces sank, it was funny, but I couldn’t laugh. The other housemates were all pretty shocked, and I know that a few of them called their parents to express their concerns about getting it themselves. It scared a lot of them. Especially one girl called Sarah, she decided to leave a week early a few days after I got diagnosed. I went to bed. I was sweating buckets, and still breathing really heavily. I had stopped feeling sick though which was a result. Jennica chilled in bed with me, and just stroked my back for a bit. I got up and walked into the front room, and tried to eat some food. I think I managed a banana but couldn’t eat anything else. I fell asleep soon after. That night was rough, I woke up with sever shakes in the middle of the night and couldn’t stop for about an hour.

The next morning it took me a lot of effort to even sit up in bed, my breathing was as if I’d just ran five k’s. Jennica asked Nancy if she could stay home and look after me for the day. I really appreciated it, she’s such a sweet heart. It made me feel so much better to have somebody around. I was feeling ok, but my fever kept coming in waves. Unfortunately, later that afternoon, Jenny started to feel ill herself. She was throwing up violently upstairs, and was taken into hospital with Nancy an hour later. I wish I could have gone with her but I was still too sick. That night was pretty rough, similar story as the night before, and my stomach had started to feel a little dodgy. When I woke up that morning, I shat myself. Sorry to tell you all but I think it’s best that you know the details! I had to throw my shorts and boxers away, and get in the shower. After that I was exhausted. I was on the toilet for a while longer. Then I took my morning medications, and went back to bed. Stomach still churning, I was worried that the morning’s problems were going to repeat themselves. I slept for a few hours. The rest of the day was a bit of a haze, but after taking some immodium, and getting my malaria shot that evening, I decided that I felt well enough to go and see Jennica in hospital. She was still there, and was going to be staying that night, too. Vallent took me in the taxi, I told him to wait for me and that I’d be about an hour.

 When I saw Jenny I was pretty worried about her straight away. Her skin was a yellowish colour, and she had been throwing up all night. She was really weak, and when I walked her to the reception to speak to her mum on the phone, she could hardly walk. I asked the nurse if they’d checked anything for the yellow skin, and she said that they had run blood tests and everything looked normal. I wasn’t convinced. The hospital wasn’t nice, it was dirty, and all of the equipment was ancient. I lay down with Jenny for a while, just to try and comfort her. She was smiling which was good, I think my visit did her a bit of good. I asked her if she wanted me to stay the night, but she said no. I don’t think she wanted me to see her throwing up in the night, and I needed to rest properly, too. I got my mum to call me on my way home, and I chatted to her about how worried I was about Jennica. She said that she would speak to some of her friends in the medical field and get them to call me to help me try and figure out what was wrong with her. I knew that yellow skin was never a good thing, and that it usually meant kidney or liver failure. Serious stuff.

Jennica came home the next day. After a few hours of her still not feeling good, and when she told me that she’d had a dodgy pee, I knew that it might be best to take her to a better hospital. Nancy took us to the Aga Khan, which I’m not sure I’ve spelt right. Aga Khan is a big hospital in Nairobi, and a university, too. They have a small hospital here in Arusha which is really new. She got treated much better there. Emily, the nurse came along too and made sure that everything was going the way that it should. I was feeling much better by this point too, still not ready to go out and doing anything tiring, but I had no symptoms anymore. After a few hours, we went home. Jennica and Nancy went home, and I went to the other volunteer house because it was social night. I chatted to people there, ate a bit of food, and then went home.

The next day Jen was getting pains in her side so she went back to the hospital. She was back soon after, and had just been told to stay hydrated properly. That evening I went to watch the England game at empire, but I didn’t drink anything. I went out last night, but only had a few beers. Quite a few other people had been sick in the week too, and the ones that were eventually feeling better got pretty smashed. Jen and I left early and came home to watch a couple of movies. The others came back pretty late and were really loud. Matt wanted to smoke a joint, so I rolled him one and left them to it. We had a bit of a scare when they were arriving home, two of the boda’s had split up from the rest of them and hadn’t arrived yet. I tried to call Lindsay’s phone, some dude picked up, which made us all freak out a bit. They turned up eventually. Apparently their drivers didn’t know where they were going and got lost. Panic over. I went to bed around three, I was wide awake and it took me a while to get to sleep.

Today, Sunday, I went and played football at Soweto, which I did a lot of last year. Aaron, an American volunteer from a home stay came along with me. He loves football and is a pretty decent centre back too. I played about eighty minutes, missed three sitters, but got one assist. Next week I’ll score.

I forgot to mention that Jennica got diagnosed properly in the end. She had a Hep A infection, which caused the severe fever and yellowness of the skin, too. She’s much better now, but isn’t allowed to drink any alcohol for another six months. Bummer.