Birds, legs and a familiar horror.

Garughachookachoo, Garughachookachoo, Garughachookachoo, Garughachookachoo,Garughachookachoo, Garughachookachoo...

Nope. It ain't Kansas. The above rhythmic mantra was the call of some amazing bird. So many bird sounds--louder than an aviary. So I woke up this morning at 6:30AM completely refreshed after 24 consecutive hours of flight. Seems those 'No Jet Lag' homeopathic pills worked,

So back to last night. I had the great good fortune of being seated next to an amazing Tanzanian woman on the Amsterdam to Kilimanjaro flight. She was so sweet, funny, outgoing. For the last year and a half, she's been alternating between 3 months in Holland with her husband, to back to Dar es Salaam to be with her 8- and 10- year old boys. This was to be her last trip to Tanzania before emigrating to Holland for good. She was lamenting the fact that she would have to learn Dutch, not because it was difficult, but because all the glottal noises were like 'gargling rocks'.

We talked about our lives, our similarities, our differences. Far fewer differences than similarities it seems.

Oh, but she didn't like dogs much, since they'd been sikked (sp?) on her as a child, but she agreed Fugee was beautiful, with "kind eyes". She had a fondness for monkeys and was lamenting the woes of monkeys and her boys. Seems her sons' favorite trick when Mom wasn't looking, was to open the fridge and say "COME AND GET IT!"

Needless to say, she was more than a little surprised to open the fridge one morning, reach for the milk, and find a cold, shivering monkey hugging the milk in the dark. He leapt directly on to her head and began grooming her furiously. That was one thankful monkey!

We got to talking about AIDS. She couldn't count the number of people she knew with HIV. Her uncle had just been diagnosed about a year earlier and decided to commit suicide by injection with the help of his doctor. I'm not sure how helpful the doctor was as it took him three days to die.

She (Amani) had one girlfriend from school who left to go to Europe for treatment (highly unusual), and was doing great on meds- as Amani put it, "She's back in lipstick and 12 kilos!" She also told me she is very frank with her kids and has made sure they know how to protect themselves, so she has hope. I can't imagine the terror of being a parent in this context.

AIDS is decimating Africa. What should be a normal pyramid population (few elderly at the top, thick middle of productive child bearers/workers followed by a fat base of children), has become an hourglass--all elderly and orphans.

Anyway… driving from the airport to the hostel, I was struck that I was in Africa. The heavy humid air smelled of digested hay--this was Maassai land with loads of cattle and goats. I could see the shadow of Mount Meru looming in the distance.

I am currently at a hostel run by the Catholic diocese and it's immaculate and charming. I went down to breakfast and ate with three Africans. Such warmth. I could tell they wanted to help me figure out what to do. One woman had a bemused, somewhat pitying look as I looked at my astonishing selection of four saucers, a mug, and two spoons that looked like they came from Barbie's Dream Hostel. I ended up with a hearty peanut butter, banana, toast, tea & egg breakfast.

(I did open a thermos that appeared to contain eyes floating in snot, to which a gentleman chuckled, and handed me the tea thermos instead...)

I went for a really short walk to the main road. It looks very much like India or Nepal except very clean. I saw one of my favorite futilities--just like in Nepal, India, Laos, Thailand, Burma--sweeping a dirt yard with sticks. How do you sweep the dirt off a dirt yard? Determination!

Africa is very different than India, though--the bargaining and deceptions are there, but with much more politeness and civility. When a tout tried to tell me my airport transfer shuttle was canceled, I laughed and said, "That's a GREAT story! Thank you!" and he laughed. We were standing right next to my bus.

So I'm currently just waiting for someone from Tanzania Serengeti Adventure to meet me at the hostel & bring me to town.

Oh, btw- my leg is fine. Had a few questionable moments--on the plane it would lose redness, but upon deplaning, become bright red. Must have been like a hyperbaric chamber, because this morning no redness, no edema, no tenderness. Thank you, Africa. And KLM. And, uh, my immune system too, I guess.

Peace

Craig

PS-I heard a familiar horror coming from the TV in the hotel, like the nasal braying of the mom from 'That '70s Show", but worse. Urkel in Africa. The horror.