Just the Tip

Finally, after nearly a week of hanging around in Moshi, Mt. Kilimanjaro rears her head!  Up until now I've only seen her from the neck down due to stubborn cloud cover.

I leave for Arusha later this afternoon and would have been super bummed if I came all this way and didn't even see her glorious, snow-white peak. 

Ironically, today only her peak is peeking out above the clouds.  Oh, silly Kili...

A Little Determination Goes a Long Way

I know you are all on the edge of your seats biting your fingernails down to a bloody stump wondering whatever happened with my little money exchange dilemma. Well fret not, my friends, because the universe was on my side yesterday. I successfully changed my Rwandan francs into Tanzanian shillings and totally broke even! HA!


Not gonna lie, I’m extremely happy with that outcome and pretty proud of myself. Sure, perhaps I was overly determined to find a way to get rid of my francs, but with nothing else to do but obsess over this little errand of mine, I was able to accomplish my goal in just 36 hours. All without having to wake up at 5am, spend 20,000 shillings to go to the airport and spend a few hours harassing people at the RwandAir ticketing counter – in which case, I’d say I came out ahead.

Long story short (unless you read my previous blog), I found 2 Rwandans here in Tanzania for training that are headed back home on Friday. After a bit of math and a few visits to www.xe.com, they so generously traded their shillings for my francs. I gave them better rates for their kindness, but we all gained in the end based on the lack of a middle-man shaving money off the top. Have I mentioned how much I love Rwandan people?

I dug into my Haribo Goldbears as a celebratory gummi feast.

Wild Goose Chase

So, Nat, what have you been up to lately?  Well, let me tell you…

• Woke up at 7:30am
• Brushed teeth
• Made a PB&B&J (second B = banana)
• Ate the PB&B&J and threw back a malaria pill
• Made a regular PB&J and threw it in my makeshift lunchbox along with banana.
• Counted and cursed my leftover 75,500 Rwandan Francs ($130 USD) that I figured I’d be able to change at the airport in Tanzania upon arriving. False.
• Got dressed, brushed teeth, washed face, put hair in piggy-braids and hit the streets on a mission.
• Stopped in Money Exchange Bureau #1 to ask about changing Rwandan Francs.  No.
• Stopped in Bank #1 to ask about changing Rwandan Francs.  No.
• Stopped in Bank #2 to ask about changing Rwandan Francs.  No.
• Stopped in Money Exchange Bureau #2 to ask about changing Rwandan Francs.  No.
• Stopped in Money Exchange Bureau #3 to ask about changing Rwandan Francs.  No.
• Stopped in Bank #3 to beg them to change my Rwandan Francs.  No
• Stopped in Bank #4 and groveled at their feet to change my Rwandan Francs.  No.
• Stopped in Travel Agency #1 to ask about any clients traveling to Rwanda.  No.
• Stopped in Travel Agency #2 to ask about any clients traveling to Rwanda.  No.
• Stopped in Bank #5 to beg about changing Rwandan Francs.  No.  But you have branches in Rwanda, isn’t there any way you can trade currency back and forth?  No.
• Stopped in Postal Courier to ask about any slight chance of changing Rwandan Francs.  How much do you have? 75,000.  That’s a lot.  I know.  I could maybe do a little bit of it, but probably not. Try asking Precision Air.
• Stopped in Money Exchange Bureau #4 to beg for help in changing my Rwandan Francs.  No.
• Stopped various groups of tourists around town to ask if they or anyone they know is traveling to Rwanda.  No.
• Stopped in Internet Café to ask around about people traveling to Rwanda.  No, but you just missed a family that left yesterday.  SOB! Try the Hoff Hostel up the street.
• Stopped in Travel Agency #3 to ask about any clients traveling to Rwanda.  No.
• Stopped in the Hoff Hostel (complete with awesome cardboard cutout of  David Hasselhoff a la Baywatch out front) to ask about any guests traveling to Rwanda.  Yes.  Really??!! I am meeting him in 1 hour at the YMCA. 
• Stopped in the YMCA, ate PB&J and banana for lunch while waiting/anticipating.
• Guy from Hoff Hostel found me to tell me the other guy left for Rwanda that morning. Grrr…
• Stopped in Travel Agency #4 at the YMCA to please, please, please tell me they have clients traveling to Rwanda.  No, but there is a girl from Rwanda that might be coming here tonight.  Another lead!  I will leave you my contact info, please let me know if she can help. Ok.
• Stopped in Bank #6 as last-ditch effort to ask about changing Rwandan Francs. No.
• Stopped in Precision Air Office to tell sob story and ask if I could ride their shuttle to the airport Wednesday morning before the flight to Rwanda to find people to exchange my Rwandan Francs with.  Ok, be here at 5:30am on Weds, but it will cost you 10,000 each way.  Fine.
• Stopped in Coffee Shop for tea & biscuits, apparently thinking I’m British.
• Ate dinner leftovers from the night before and recounted ridiculous day
• Stopped in Internet Café at 6:30pm to check email for any leads, meet up with new Norwegian friends & post exhilarating day to blog.

To be continued…

Killing Time in Moshi

I’d consider Tanzania a bit of a culture shock in comparison to Rwanda. Sure, there are probably more similarities than differences, but after a week by myself in Rwanda, the differences are much more apparent. I’m making general statements here, but Tanzania (at least northern Tanz) is more on the beaten path/tourist track, bringing with it more paved roads, influx of cultures and variety. I’ve seen more white people in one hour here than I did in an entire week in Rwanda. Good, bad or indifferent, I can’t say. Just different.

What I will say is that after feeling totally by myself in Rwanda for a week, it is nice to come into contact with other like-minded travelers for a chat and story-sharing. Then again, there is something to be said about traveling solo and coming into more intimate contact with the local lifestyle. People tend to shut themselves off much more when in groups. The same can be said when traveling with lots of money. Solo, budget travel necessitates openness and really throwing yourself out there.

Case in point: back in Rwanda I was walking with Emmanuel from Gitare to Kidaho. As we walked through the villages, everyone smiled, waved and said hello to me. I mentioned to Emmanuel how nice everyone was and he told me that it was a treat for them to see a mzungu walking around. They infrequently see mzungus in the first place, but to see one actually walking as a form of transport was truly special. The only time they really see Westerners is as they whiz by in safari Land Rovers or taxis, waving from the windows.

It’s so true. Even walking around Moshi, if I veer off the main street or into the market, I’m usually the only tourist around. But if pop into a hotel’s bar/restaurant, it’s filled with Westerners. We certainly love to find our little sanctuaries, hovering above and not really scratching the surface of getting to know a place. Whatevs, to each his own. It does seem awfully boring to me, though. What makes the inside of a hotel in Moshi any different than that of one in New Jersey? Perhaps the paranoia associated with drinking the water, but I wouldn’t drink the water in Jersey, either.

Rwanda Recap

Rwanda is totally underrated.

The Scenery
The landscape here has blown away my expectations.  It's beautiful.  Rolling, terraced hillsides; lush, banana plantations; large, picturesque lakes; massive, looming volcanoes that are home to the last remaining mountain gorillas on the planet. 

The People
Yes, it has a nasty past, but it is very stable now and no one should be scared to visit this place.  I've been harassed WAY more in Italy and Cabo than I have been in Rwanda.  Granted, I've gotten a lot of stares, smiles and giggles, but none of them have been threatening.  People are just curious and are trying to muster the courage to say hello to the mzungu.  You get used to it after a while.  Still expect to get mzungu pricing on stuff, but if you insist on paying half of what they quote you, they will smile in agreement and tell you that you're a good customer.

I have experienced many random acts of kindness and people that will go completely out of their way to help.  My favorite was Sam, a guy in Kigali, who escorted me over to the Hotel Auberge where he asked to see a room and made sure the shower and toilet worked before he gave me a big, smiley hug and went on his way.

With each new friend, warm reception and generous act, I am beginning to wonder if the less-touristy parts of the world (excluding war-torn destinations) are much friendlier than those on the beaten path.  In which case curiosity rules out over the desire to scam.  On the flip side, the lack of infrastructure certainly adds an element of difficulty.  I will have plenty of opportunities to test my theory, so I'll let you know...

Rwandan Homestay

Last night I arranged a homestay with a lovely Rwandan family about 5 miles outside the town of Musanze (aka Ruhengeri) where I've been hanging out lately.  

Dad (Joseph) & Mom (Clementine) were very hospitable and their little girl (Peace, 2) and boy (David, 4) were super cute...even according to me, and I don't even like kids all that much.

Despite a bit of awkwardness since only the dad spoke some English, I had a great experience.  I helped out with the cooking, cleaning and keeping the kids entertained.  It really doesn't matter what kind of language barrier there is with kids, they always respond to goofy faces, funny noises, ridiculous dance moves and rousing games of peekaboo. 

What was most interesting to me was their social status & neighborhood.  They are a middle-class family living in what used to be considered a rich neighborhood before the '94 genocide during which many of the families fled the country.  Looking around, I envisioned the neighborhood being picked up and plopped into Anytown, USA where it would certainly be considered very poor to American standards.   Without a doubt, we'd be focused on what they don't have.  Whereas, here, these "don't haves" are no matter as they have the basics that are enough to get comfortably by. 

American POV:
Don't have a front door
Don't have a bathroom (and therefore, no toilet, shower or sink)
Don't have a kitchen
Don't have enough beds for each family member
Don't have reliable electricity
Don't have proper sofas
Don't have a car
Don't have a TV
Don't have a closet full of clothes

Rwandan POV:
Have a roof
Have a floor
Have access to food & plenty of space out back to grow banana trees, beans, tomatoes, yams, etc
Have access to clean water
Have places to sit
Have enough clothes to get by
Have firewood
Have matches
Have a radio
Have a school for their kids
Have friends
Have a loving family

Ape Sh!t

I've been meaning to write about my gorilla trek experience, but haven't found the time.  So here goes:

EFFING. AWESOME.

If you want more detail, you are going to have to ask me personally because there is no way I can write it down.

B&J and a Hard Boiled Egg

...for dinner again.  Note the missing P in B&J.  Yes, that means I had a butter & jelly sandwich for dinner + a hard boiled egg.  I couldn't figure out a way to use hand gestures to get the server to understand the word peanut.   I could have probably gotten pretty creative with that, but decided regular butter would do just fine.  Again, I doggy bagged it from the free breakfast this morning.  What do you expect from me?  Honestly...   Although I did have lunch at a local cafe/bakery for about $1.50, which included "pizza" (ha) and lemon Fanta.  Hell yeah. 

I finally got cash out from a local bank.  Granted, I probably got slapped with a sweet 4% fee, but whatever, I have cash, which means I can continue bouncing about northwestern Rwanda a bit longer.   Schmisa, Schmastercard, credit cards are pretty much useless around here.

I went to a local nursery school today with a British girl named Kat I met the other day who's in town volunteering as a teacher.  Cute kids, but I needed at least 8 more arms for each one that wanted to hold my hand.  I was like a human jungle gym for a solid hour.

Tomorrow I was going to go to some nearby volcanic caves, but was told by a local that they are filled with rabid bats.  So that's out.

PB&J and a Hard Boiled Egg...

...for dinner.  Both doggy bagged from the hotel breakfast.  That's true backpacking right there.  My inner mooch certainly helps.

I'm now officially traveling solo and 100% on my own.  And 100% winging it.  Day 1 of solo travel and I've already run into a plethora of issues.  Rwanda is not exactly set up for backpacking -- or travel outside of an organized tour in general -- so I've been having to do a lot of improvising and problem-solving. 

Problem #1: No access to cash.  Rwanda is notorious for piss poor ATM service/access.
Problem #2: No record of me being booked on my flight to Tanzania.
Problem #3: I'm a Mzungu.

Problems #1 and 2 are totally solve-able, albeit frustrating and aggravating.  Problem #3 is just something I'm gonna have to get used to.  Mzungu (muh-zoon-goo) means white person.  White people are rich.  Therefore, I am rich and have plenty of money to spare to be "makin' it rain" all over the streets of Eastern Africa.  Kids will literally walk up to you with their hand out asking for money, pencils, the shirt off your back.  It's sad, really, but what do you expect when all they know of the Western world are stories of economic prosperity and us setting a precedent of giving things away to developing countries.  I'd do it too if I were in their shoes.

I will say that the people of Eastern Africa have surprised me.  They are supremely smiley, welcoming, curious and helpful.  I've met some really cool locals and have had some very interesting conversations.  Everything from stories about life during the '94 Rwandan genocide to Beyonce's awesome booty shaking.

Class Chuck Norris

We went white water rafting on the Nile in Uganda the other day - holy hell I've never seen raging water like that in my life.  The rafting rating system goes up to Class 6, which basically means you will probably die unless you are a professional.  I was shocked they even took us down Class 5 rapids.  All you could see were giant 15-ft walls of water coming at your face.

We had time in between rapids to float, chill, swim and chat.  We mainly talked about fat people and Chuck Norris.  We decided that Niagara Falls would be rated Class Chuck Norris in rafting terms.

One of the river guides was this dude who looked half-lion.  He just wandered out of the jungle barefoot, shirtless, dirty and with tattered shorts on.  We were just waiting for him to dive into the river and emerge with a fish in his mouth.