stories of giving back and e x p l o r i n g

Twenty-five years of awesomeness

2011-01-26T10:10:00.125-05:00

For my 25th birthday, I made a list of my 25 favorite moments from my first 25 years. Here's to feeling great about life, starting with (in no particular order)...

1. When I was 5, I was picked out of the audience at Radio City Music Hall's Christmas Spectacular to dance on stage with the rockettes. I went back stage, was dressed in a winter coat and put in a sleigh with Santa, pulled by live reindeer as the rockettes danced around us. It's crazy, and true.

2. On my 18th birthday I opened my Colgate University acceptance letter. It sat in the mailbox (covered by snow) until we were able to dig it out on January 26. The gift that keeps on giving.

3 (and 4). Skydiving over the Swiss Alps with Mendham and Colgate friends in 2006. So AWESOME I did it twice!

5. Spiral swimming with sea lions in the Pacific Ocean off of the Galapagos Islands

6. The day I read this quote for the first time: The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience. - Eleanor Roosevelt

7. My seventh birthday, when my Dad took me into New York City to go birthday shopping for a Barbie car....turquoise, 4-door and about 24 inches long. We took it out of the box in the store, and I road the train all the way home with it in my arms.

8. In 2004, spending the day at Caffe Florian in Venice, Italy with @kristintheiss @LRAlexander, @just_float and a bunch of people from the Sichuan province in China clapping and singing to the music. Then, returning to the same spot 4 years later with Kris and my sister.

9. A history lecture by long time Mendham High School teacher Mr. Huff about thinking in terms of "us" and "we." History is not about "them" - it's about us as a global community that is interconnected across time and geography.

10. Putting my hand on a tree in the old growth Amazon Rainforest, and keeping it there for a minute as I closed my eyes.

11. As a 10 year old at Disney World, riding Spash Mountain 10 times in a ROW, just before 10pm closing, with none other than my Uncle Mark.

12. Sitting next to my parents, watching my sister sing beautifully in front of thousands of people at Colgate in October '09.

13. Sneaking off of a cruise ship to swim in the Mediterranean sea at midnight and feeling the big waves deep blue waves roll against me...one of the first times I admired the ocean.

14. Realizing that friends and family are what this is all about - and making a commitment to live that way among flickering candles at a Mendham Antioch, and holding my best friend's hand as I said it.

15. Every Buonocore Christmas Eve party, for the past 24 years.

16. As a second grader, spending hours on my bedroom floor with my mom, creating a science report about orca whales, and making a paper mache globe to show everywhere that my favorite animal lives in the world.

17. Seeing orca whales in the wild for the first time, standing in the pouring rain in the middle on the Pacific off of the coast of the Alaska.

18. Every time I've laughed.

19. Teaching in Tanzania: discovering Chica Chica Boom Boom, one of my favorite childhood books, on the shelves in the classroom, and listening to the kids memorize the lines as I read over the next 3 months.

20. The first time that I saw a full rainbow, over Keuka Lake.

21. Making this list, and remembering how lucky I am.

22. Watching a lion pride in the in Serengeti National Park.

23. November 20010, an email pops up that I've been accepted to StartingBloc. And I felt the kind of adrenaline rush that only happens when you feel like the world's doors are all about to open for you.

24. Quite possibly the most fun, most fulfilling, happiest moment of all. This picture is worth 1000 words.

25. Moment #25 and beyond: when I remember that we can do anything when we put our minds to it, and don’t give up.

The greatest part of your heart is the piece you give away.

2009-08-12T20:33:00.006-04:00

Passion for the Climb essay, published in the Colgate Scene, Colgate University alumni publication in the summer of 2009

More than one place feels like home.

2009-07-18T20:42:00.022-04:00

Here it is...the final (or close to final) post for Tanzania. I suppose this closes up the Giving Back and Exploring stories, for a little while at least. Almost two months have passed since I left the Rift Valley Children's Village. After boarding the plane at Kilimanjaro, I visited China with two best friends, and then just days after landing in the States, repacked my stuff for a move to one of the biggest cities in the world where other friends and I whisked a queen sized bed down New York's 23rd street to my new apartment. The differences in experience over the past few months are wondrous..borderline overwhelming...but pretty cool. Thanks for following along for the past year or so. It's most definitely been the most important, and best, so far.

Despite the recent hustle and bustle, not a day goes by that I don't wonder about the kids at the Village, and how things are going there. I loved being a part of their lives. The wake-ups, the school, the fun...so it doesn't surprise me that I've spent several hours a day sorting through pictures and videos to make these recap videos and capture what it was like to be there. Thanks to everyone at the Rift Valley Children's Village for letting me become part of their family.

I hope that this video give you a look into what it was like to be in Tanzania, and what it's like to have all of the creative freedom in the world to have fun with the kids. Spending time with them was nothing short of inspiring, and I hope that these videos inspire you to get involved. You can easily make a donation and there's always a wish list posted on the RVCV website.

One of the most important things you can do is sponsor one or more of the children. It's a really wonderful way to establish a connection with the kids. And I have no shortage of stories about most of the kids at the Village. Don't hesitate to let me know if this is something that interests you. It's a tough time financially for just about everyone, but even the smallest contribution makes a big difference.

Video: Teaching at Gyetighi Primary School

2009-06-30T15:00:00.018-04:00

As a volunteer with the Rift Valley Children's Fund, an orphanage in Tanzania, I was lucky enough to teach English to the Cheke Chea (kindergarten) at Gyetighi Primary School. Gyetighi (prounced geh-tee-gee) is about a 5 minute walk from the Children's Village. Every day at 1pm I'd walk over to school, where I'd be with the 17 kindergartners in the afternoon class for about 2 hours, teaching English, helping them with math (in Swahili!), and playing with them outside. None of the kids in my class lived at the Children's Village, where there is a relatively good supply of clothing, toiletries and food. The differences in clothing and health were apparent on a daily basis. But their smiles and spirits were 17 of my most favorite parts of being in Tanzania.

This video highlights the fun that we had as a class, but there's still lots of work to be done. Renovations at Gyetighi are on-going, and necessary to bring more sunlight and supplies into the classrooms. For the upper level students, who have full days of school, class size makes learning difficult. There is no electricity at the school, there are very few textbooks, and because most students do not have access to light in evening hours, there's no homework. RVCV runs a lunch program for the 450 children at school. For many of the children, who walk over an hour to get to school, this is their only meal of the day.

Last Day in the People's Republic of China: a recap.

2009-06-20T16:28:00.005-04:00

This is my last full day in China. Here's a recap of my visit, arranged by city.

Beijing. Famous for...the Forbidden City, Tiananmen Square, 2008 Olympics.. I also saw...urban sprawl; it's an expanding metropolitan area that is quickly destroying the more ancient parts of the city. But, there's great infrastructure and great food, and acrobatics shows that raised my eyebrows because of the tricks, and also because of the ages of some participants. I'd say Beijing was our favorite place on the trip - it's a liveable city with lots for tourists to see and do.

Shanghai. Famous for...skyscrapers, business, shipping and fashion. I also saw...a spectacular national museum that put me in touch with just how old Chinese civilization is. Not to mention the club scene of the upper crust youth of Shanghai, who dance and smoke like there's no tomorrow (imagine NYC caliber clubs/bars without the cover charges and dress codes, with the exception of one place that forced me to wear gold sequin pumps that were three sizes too small.) We also had the grand tour of Asia via international cuisine - Chinese, Vietnamese, Nepalese, Indian and Thai!

Yangshuo. Famous for...karst (limestone) peaks, which are particularly special here because of the humid climate (we are realllly far south in China) and the absence of glaciers in the peaks' erosion history. I also saw...a cultural-musical lightshow created by the producer of the Beijing Olympics' opening ceremonies. With a small lake and the karst peaks as a backdrop, the performance was a striking example of how natural beauty can be accentuated by human and unnatural elements (think florescent lighting...the Chinese love florescent lighting). We sat through a torrential downpour covered only by thin plastic ponchos to watch the show, so it was obviously worth it!

Longji. Famous for...Chinese minority groups and rice terraces, which were pain-stakingly carved into the hillsides over 600 years ago. The rice terraces look like "a dragon's spine" or to the non-dragon tamers among us, a real-life topographical map. The cool thing is that the place isn't just a tourist attraction. The terraces are working rice paddies, complete with simple but effective irrigation systems that are also hundreds of years old. The manual labor involved in all of this is incredible. We hiked four hours between the two villages of Jinkeng and Ping'An...lots of steps, lots of rice paddies, definitely my favorite part of the trip.

What's Next? Tomorrow I board a plane for Amsterdam, and then one for the US on Wednesday. I'll fly (practically) horizontally across the world over the next two days.

Thanks again to Julia for hosting me in China. To keep up with Jules' blog about her research on Buddhism in China, and her daily life there visit http://juliagooding.blogspot.com

China, in photos

2009-06-12T16:26:00.001-04:00

Jules and Laura in Tienannman Square

Lonji Rice Terraces

Architecture at the Summer Palace in Beijing

Some Chinese tourists who asked to take pictures with us at the Summer Palace in Beijing

Olympic Park. The Birds Nest is incredible to see in real life!

Another update from the People's Republic of China

2009-06-09T22:00:00.008-04:00

Here are a few observations about China, now that I've been here for almost two weeks. As always, pick and choose what (if anything!) you feel like reading.

I understand the population size through faces...
There is an enormous number of people in China - 18 million in Beijing alone. Think about that for a second. 18 million. That's more than twice the population of New York City, and pretty incredible to think about. Given the size, scope and history of China, I suppose it shouldn't surprise me how different everyone looks here. Not in a different-from-me kind of way; I've been struck by how different the Chinese look from each other. (Perhaps ignorantly, I expected the Chinese to look stereotypically similar, like Scandanavians for example.) Though the diversity doesn't approach what you'd see in an American city (particularly in racial terms), the varying appearances of peoples' faces hint at the enormous population creating those facial differences.

Production, production, production!
We haven't witnessed production first-hand per se, but I know it's happening here 24/7. If the air quality doesn't remind me when I step outside, the overwhelming sense of consumerism does. There is stuff being sold everywhere for prices that reflect the items' distances from their production sites, and the mass quantity at which they've been produced. I have yet to buy something that costs more than $5 after a little bargaining, which Julia does skillfully in Chinese. In Shanghai we took a cruise down the Huangpu River, to the mouth of the Yangzi. Over the course of our three hour tour we got a sense of the magnitude of industry in China, and the scope of Chinese shipping. We passed barge after barge, cargo ship after cargo ship, most labeled 'China Shipping', all busy loading containers filled with who-knows-what for who-knows-where (probably the US). For an entire hour and a half, all we passed were cargo ships and barges - that's how much is being exported on a daily basis.

Oppression, but no depression here
In 2006, I went to Budapest, Hungary, a formerly Communist country which 'broke free' after some serious struggle about twenty years ago. Budapest struck me as a quiet, somewhat depressed place, where people seemed afraid to speak loudly or act out in public. I visited the House of Terror there, which highlighted Soviet war crimes and left me with chills and a realistic sense of some of the harmful, lasting effects of Soviet Communism. It's interesting to think that Chinese people in their 40s have excellent memory of the recent past, especially of Tienanmen Square in 1989. I wondered if China would leave me with a feeling similar to my experience in Budapest, but so far (outwardly, at least) things couldn't be more to the contrary. Everyone seems happy-go-lucky in a way, enjoying the country's prosperity, and not minding the political system. (I say "not minding" here because I've seen very little political opinion, positive or negative.) Chinese in Beijing are dressed in every color of the rainbow (no New York black schemes to be found in either Beijing or Shanghai), and seem to be out and about buying things they don't need, enjoying the dining and nightlife options in the city. Not at all what I expected, and oddly reminiscent of a place half a world away...

Pollution
I think it's true what they say: China is one of the most polluted places on earth. My first few days in Beijing, we were blessed with sunny, cloud-free skies, but within 72 hours, the blue skies and light breezes gave way to hazy overcast and pretty stagnant hot air. Weather wise, I can't say much more for Shanghai. You can practically smell the pollution mixed with cigarette smoke as you walk around outside. Not to mention the Chinese nightclub atmosphere, which left me with a morning cough worthy of an 80 year old lifetime smoker.

Food!
I had no idea that this trip would be such a culinary experience! Chinese food in China is nothing like the Chinese food I've had in the States (China Gourmet, Main Moon, etc., haha). Here, it's actually good! The grease isn't overpowering and everything is very flavorful; the spices really make it. MSG should probably get some credit, but one of my other favorite spices is this stuff from Sichuan that looks a bit like a pepper kernel and makes your tongue go a little numb, which is fun. We usually eat it on green beans, grilled with chili peppers. There have also been chicken kebabs, sugar potatoes that you dip in water to caramelize (delicious, my sweet tooth loved them), lots of eggplant/potato dishes, dim sum (we ordered sixteen dishes on Sunday morning, including shrimp dumplings, buns stuffed with BBQ pork, the tongue numbing beans, mango in glutinous rice sprinkled with coconut, and mashed red beans topped with gelatin, which were surprisingly tasty.) Thus far I've avoided the strange/ethically debatable - no ducks, dogs, chicken feet, or other body parts that make my eyebrows raise when someone mentions eating them.

The eating experience is very communal, which I enjoy. At each meal, we order several dishes and share them all, which is a fantastic way to try everything and inevitably end up almost uncomfortably full. Usually the meals run us between $3 and $8 each, which is ridiculously affordable for what we're eating. I've had some great Nepalese, Indian and Thai food in Beijing/Shanghai, too. (Yum, green curry!)

Temple of Heaven, Beijing

Dinner and beers after a 6 hour hike on the Great Wall

Jambo...I mean, ni hao, from Beijing!

2009-05-29T16:25:00.011-04:00

I made it to Beijing early this morning (depending on where you are, even earlier Tanzania time, or late at night Thursday if you're in the States) after a long day - maybe two - of traveling. I've been on 3 continents and in 4 countries in the past 36 hours, so it's been a whirlwind.

It was great to see Julia and Laura this morning at the airport, especially after I was thermometered in the head with a speed-gun looking contraption that apparently tests you for the flu. Luckily I passed the test and was permitted to collect my bags (which are full of souvenirs from Tanzania) and meet my friends at baggage, which was a great reunion.

So far, I've slept for 2 hours, just woke up, and am headed out with Jules and Laura for a picnic dinner. Apparently this is one of the few days with a blue sky. There is no pollution in the air that we can see, so Beijing must be excited to see me and knows what I'm looking for. I will write more soon, with some other details.

I feels strange to be on a sort of vacation after all of the activity of the past 4 months, and to know that this 3 weeks will eventually lead me back to US. To be honest, I'm still processing leaving Tanzania and RVCV, and have just sort of been blinded by travel and good friends for now.

Last days at Rift Valley Children's Village in photos

2009-05-14T22:37:00.010-04:00

A beautiful day outside

Dr. Seuss with Cristina

Going away present earrings from Mama Sophia

Three spot sunset

Tutoring Highlights

2009-05-13T11:00:00.006-04:00

Last weekend, Josephat got a space kit for his birthday--with constellation stencils, glow in the dark stickers, the works. The kids were totally taken with it, so I decided it'd be cool to learn about space in tutoring. I went through the kid books, found one about the solar system, one about the moon and then a bunch of National Geographics for visual aids. I went with the old technique of asking the kids questions about what they already knew, then throwing in new info and eventually having them spell new words that we'd learned.

It amazed me how naturally teaching came to me on that day. I've really gotten into the groove after all of this time with the kids! We talked about space, stars, the moon, planets, craters on the moon (and related the craters to volcanoes!), spaceships, and astronauts. The kids thought it was all very cool, and asked tons of questions. As we chatted about rockets, I asked the kid what makes a rocket fly. They had lots of ideas...eventually we settled on energy. At the mention of that word, Boazi looked up at me, his wheels obviously turning. "Like the energy that's in Andy's muscles?" he asked. (Andy runs the microfinance program at RVCV.) I couldn't help but laugh at the comparison. "Yup, like that energy," I laughed. And the kids were already chattering to each other about muscle-energy, and how big your muscles would have to be to launch a spaceship.

Nurturing Curiosity

I recently came across Christopher and Boazi hovering over one of the gutter pipes outside of Serengeti, watching water pour from the pipe onto the ground. "What are you guys doing?" I asked. Christopher looked up, excitedly. "Look!" he said. "This water can go through a leaf!"

They'd picked a leaf from a nearby plant and propped it up at the opening of the pipe. The water appeared to be flowing into the hole in the stem, through the stem's tube, and out toward the ground. "Do you know how that happens?" they asked me.

"How do you think it happens?" I asked back. Christopher proceeded to give me several explanations for how the water was going "through" the leaf. In the meantime, Boazi jumped up to pick more leaves to see if it would happen with them too. The kids' curiosity these days is really astounding. And the best part is that they ask questions about things now, so much more than they did when I first got here.

Learning about volcanoes!

Making Progress in Cheke Chea

2009-05-07T20:36:00.004-04:00

Last week, while sitting in Cheke Chea, I caught the word 'exam' out of the flurry of Kiswahili flowing from the lead teachers' mouths that afternoon. The word immediately drew an eye roll form me. I know I've been with them for awhile now and have taught them enough to warrant some sort of recall-test, but an exam for kindergartners still just seems so silly to me. Teacher Elizabeth turned it around to the kids this time. "What do you think will be on your English exam?" she asked. To my surprise, several hands shot up into the air.

She called on one of the kids, who said with a smile, and the familiar hand motion that I had introduced, "brush your teeth, brush your teeth!" Then another shouted out "flowa" (that's 6-year old Swahili for flower), and two more, "dirt" and "water," which of course is pronounced "wahtah." (You may remember my plant project several weeks ago.) Several more hands went up: "shoulders!" head, knees, toes!" "shirt!" "skirt!" then "twiga, twiga," which is how we began the brush-your-teeth and tie-your-shoes concepts. I was stunned to hear all that these kids were spitting out. And it wasn't the same three kids giving all of the vocab. So many of them remembered so much. Moments like those make all of this really worth it.

Later in class I heard Teacher Elizabeth ask the class in Swahili what they'd do when their teacher left. At first I wasn't sure who she was talking about. Then the kids all buried their heads in their hands and pretended to cry. After a few seconds, they all turned around to me and giggled. "Mimi pia" I said, and I buried my own face in my hands and pretended to cry. Everyone laughed. "Napenda mwalimu?" she asked. Do you love your teacher? "Ndiyo, ndiyo!" they said, shaking their heads yes, and my heart felt full.

Ab Routines and Ugi

2009-05-06T03:58:00.014-04:00

Ab Routines and Ugi
For the past few weeks, Kat and I have been doing an ab routine in the evenings. Some of the kids watch, some of them do it with us; never has exercising been such a bundle of fun for all involved. We often do the routine in the girls' room in Serengeti...especially on chapati nights, because we do the 10 minutes of crunches and then immediately show down on the chapati. (Chapati is a delicious thick tortilla, made with flour, water, sugar, oil and salt and cooked over a jicho, topped with sauteed cabbage and tomatoes.

The other day Happy and the girls were going to do the routine with us. They were all excited and getting into positions on the floor. Happy walked in with practically a tub of ugi, a porridge made from white flour that the kids eat every other day for breakfast. She put the tub down in her cubbie, after one final bite of course, and then got down on the floor, ready to go. It was Happy's first shot at the routine. After about 30 seconds, the girls were wailing, "owww this is hard!" Happy looked particularly unpleasantly surprised and stood up. I'm just going to dance, she proclaimed to the club-esque music we had playing from some portable speakers. Meanwhile, Kat and I were still in the throes of sit ups, and the other girls were doing their best to keep up. Happy grabbed her ugi bucket, spooned herself a bite, and began shaking it all around the room. At one point, she sat on my knees, wiggling her middle and eating ugi as I continued to try to 'crunch' far faster than I wanted to. I almost couldn't continue the laughter was so strong. The ab and ugi routine may very well end up being one of my funniest moments here.

Tetanus Shots and a Brush with Wildlife in Manyara National Park

2009-05-05T04:27:00.004-04:00

I wrote this story while sitting on a rock outside of the government hospital in Karatu, having just (unexpectedly) received a tetanus booster because I stepped on a rusty nail this weekend.

Last Saturday, a few volunteers and I took a trip to Mto wa Mbu (translated to "mosquito village") and Manyara National Park. Mto wa Mbu is the town just outside of the park, and is replete with craft stalls and tourist goods. We hoped to shop for Masai wedding necklaces, woven baskets, gourds and other Tanzanian art to remember our experiences by. I brought a beautiful wood bowl and a gorgeous woven basket, for a fraction of the price that you'd find these items for in the States.

After several hours of browsing the market, we'd finished shopping. As I moved forward to step into the Land Rover, my weight shifted and I instantly felt a surge of pain in my right foot. It was unlike any pain I've experienced before. I stood still, frozen by the sensation - though my brain said the paid was in my foot, physically, the pain manifested itself as dozens of needles piercing my cheeks and forearms. In an instant, my eyes were wide and my face was as white as a ghost.

My friends could clearly see that something was wrong. I blurted out, with unreasonable calm and "matter-of-factness" that something was in my foot. And then I just stood there, unable to say more. The faces in front of me were worried as they helped me into the car. Once I was seated, Tracie slowly moved my foot from my flip flop, revealing a rusty, bent nail that had gone through the flip flop plastic and about 1/2 inch into the ball of my right foot. Feeling the metal pulled from my flesh, I began to fall into mini-shock. Things moved slowly and the needle sensation in my arms and face was spreading. And then, the pain became so intense that I felt nearly nothing at all. Tracie rifled around in her bag for a medical kit and with the iodine we found she cleaned the puncture point.

Several Tanzanians from the shop had crowded around the car to see what had happened, bringing a Coca Cola with them. (Isn't it incredible how Coca Cola has penetrated emerging markets and many essential medicines have not?) "Mbua kubwa," I said in Swahili. The Tanzanians looked at me, confused. "Big pain," I attempted to clarify, in English. (I later learned that mbua kubwa actually means 'big dog' and that foreign language ability quickly dissipates in the face of pain.)

After a few minutes, I was doing better. Normal feeling returned to my cheeks and pain was localized to my foot where my body had turned its attention to fight potential infection. It's crazy how you can almost feel the antibodies working. The ordeal actually sounds far more dramatic than it should. In this type of situation, the most serious concern is tetanus, and my tetanus shots were up to date. However, my most recent tetanus shot had been 9 years prior so I would need to visit the government hospital for a booster. The government hospital was the only place where tetatus could legally be kept and was also closed on weekends, so we resolved to continue our trip and I'd make a visit first thing on Monday morning.

On Saturday, we drove to Lake Manyara National Park. We arranged the trip ourselves, through a local driver rather than through an established safari outfit, in an effort to keep business local and to economize. Likely as a result, within a few minutes of boarding the Land Rover on Saturday morning, the car was having trouble starting. In fact, most times that the car was turned off, it needed to be pushed or rolled in order to make the engine start again. Relatively deep in the park on Sunday, we were driving along a small river when my friend Kat spotted a Kingfisher, which she touted as one of the most interesting birds in East Africa. Always interested, our group snapped pictures of the bird while Kat recited facts about Kingfishers' unique fishing behaviors. The car was still running, which was making it difficult to to hear and threatened to spook the Kingfisher away. So in a fateful moment, I asked our driver, Freddy, to turn the car off. And predictably, a few minutes later when we were ready to continue on, the car wouldn't start.

Freddy rolled the Rover backwards several times, trying to pop the clutch. No luck the first, second, third times. Tracie, who was in the front seat, urged Freddy to take it easy on the engine. Seated in the far rear, a funny smell was beginning to reach me. Is that burning rubber? I thought. Freddy suddenly turned around with a panicked look on his face. "Get out of the car right now!" he shouted, and we were overcome by a mixture of confusion and panic, unsure of just how serious his instructions had been. He jumped out of the car, on top of the hood and proceeded to jump up and down as smoke wafted from under it. An awkward scramble ensued as the four of us struggled past bags and each other to get out of the car and to safety. But safety is relative when you're in the middle of a national park in East Africa. By exiting the car to escape a possible car fire, we had broken the cardinal rule of safari-ing: Never, ever get out of your vehicle. So there we were, scattered around a smoking Land Rover and would you believe it, the Kingfisher we were trying not to disturb, was watching us from his perch in the tree.

My first instinct was to move as far from the car as possible. But even just a few feet away, we would be incredibly exposed to the elements. To the left was a small river, to the right were dense, thorny acacia trees, and about 4 minutes back on the road was a herd of cape buffalo, the most aggressive animals in the East African bush. I found the differences in our reactions to this vulnerability comical. Tracie, the mama and business woman of our bunch, took to trying to fix the car while searching for emergency park numbers, which Freddy unfortunately did not have. Kat, who spent a month on safari with her family last year (often on foot) gazed around at the landscape and the Kingfisher, practically oblivious to the potential danger of which Alanna had become quite aware. "I think we should get back to back," her voice quivered. "Man your area!" she said. I wholeheartedly agreed. Then came a low grunt from the near distance. Injecting some humor into the now dangerous situation, Alanna asked if it could be a bullfrog. We unfortunately knew better.

Back to back, manning my area (which was a combination of water and buffalo territory) and always solution-oriented, I began brainstorming scenarios and their corresponding escape routes. In the worst cases, there were hippos, buffalo and a flaming Land Rover to be dealt with. Why not start with the hippo. If a hippo approaches, I thought, I'll get away from the water. But I wonder how aggressively they'd come after us on dry land. Not to mention that the buffalo could arrive at any moment. Four screaming women would likely attract the attention of the herd. So it looks like running deeper into the bush to escape a hippo isn't the best option. That leaves the Land Rover..which is on its way to being on fire...or a climb up a thorny acacia tree. A thorny acacia tree...perhaps stepping on the nail was some sort of preparation.

My scenario-ridden psyche was soon interrupted by another low rumble. Still back to back, our eyes widened as another safari vehicle came into view. Luckily, Freddy had just put the fire out and deemed it safe to continue on. We hesitantly re-boarded the car -- really what other choice did we have -- and the other safari vehicle nudged our engine back into gear. The rest of the trip was wonderful, as you'll see below:

Manyara National Park

G'day mate!

2009-04-29T22:00:00.000-04:00

Last night the Serengeti kids and I read a few stories before bedtime. One of them was about a family trip to Australia. The book showed pictures of kangaroos, and other typical Australian things. Oddly enough, the book never said "g'day mate," which I consider to be the token Australian phrase. I couldn't resist teaching the kids. Of course shortly after my lesson, the entire group broke out into a chorus of "g'day mate!" I told them that whoever remembered to say g'day mate to me at breakfast the following morning would get a big hug and a high five.

The next morning, nearly every Serengeti kid rose and "g'day'd," looking for their high five.

Serengeti House eating dinner

Me and Mole

Vicenti and Simon

Memorable Moments with the Kids

2009-04-27T14:00:00.012-04:00

April 27 was my first date to leave Tanzania. Eleven weeks have passed. The original plan was to spend only 6 weeks at RVCV; now I'm signed up for 14, and I wish the time would pass more slowly! I thought when this day came, I'd be starting to feel sad about my approaching departure, but I feel so well adjusted and have so much fun with the kids that there's no reason to spend time worrying about leaving.

Here is a favorite moments of the past few days:

Gabriella and I spent about thirty minutes playing "kimbia" this weekend..our special game, that doubles as the game almost all little kids play with any willing adult.
It starts out like this: I run away from her in a goofy trot, eventually spin around to face her, drop to the ground, and throw my arms open. She looks at me, waiting, as if to say 'what's the magic word?' and I sweetly shout, 'tafadalhi?' (please?) She looks satisfied, and comes barreling towards me, with a HUGE grin on her face, jumps into my arms, kisses me on the cheek and we hold each other tight. Then she pulls back, looks at me and goes, "KIMBIA!" (Run!) You can guess what happens next.

Green Eggs and Ham with a Twist

2009-04-20T20:31:00.002-04:00

Each morning I tutor six Rift Valley kids for about an hour and a half. They're first and second graders, but because some of the kids have been at the Village for 2.5 years and some of them just arrived, their English abilities vary dramatically. Coming up with tutor material that suits all of the kids can often be a challenge. Lately I've turned to Dr. Seuss for help.

I honestly think I've read Go Dog Go at least 500 times, not to mention The Cat in the Hat, Oh the Places You'll Go (my favorite book), and of course, Green Eggs and Ham. And in the past few years, I've grown to appreciate these stories even more than I did when I was a kid. They're fun to read, they rhyme, and they present meaningful messages in really fun ways. So last week, I brought a Dr. Seuss book to life. We'd been reading Green Eggs and Ham for several weeks at that point, but never had I seen the kids so engrossed in the story. A plate of the fabled green eggs awaited them at the end of the session...

The way that the kids latched onto the green egg concept took me by surprise. Eggs are pretty easily come by here at the Children's Village. In fact, the kids eat a hard boiled egg every single day of the week at snack time. Twelve kids in Serengeti House means twelve eggs every day. So far I've been here for almost 60 days. That's 720 eggs for Serengeti alone, just in the time that I've been here. To further illustrate the point: the Serengeti kids have been here for two and a half years (that's about 900 days). One egg per day means that they've eaten close to 1000 eggs since they've arrived here! So you get it - eggs are not that special.

But Dr. Seuss' eggs are, because they're green, and they're scrambled. (The eggs the kids eat every day here are boringly hard-boiled.) So, one by one the kids wrote and spelled aloud the words I had chosen from the book: mouse, house, fox, box, train, rain, eggs, like, them. "Who can spell eggs?" I'd ask, and nine little hands would shoot into the air. We wrote, we spelled, we listened and we read til my heart's content, and at the end, as promised, the kids were rewarded with their green scrambled eggs...which took all of 60 seconds for them to eat. The funny thing is that we only have one color of food coloring here at RVCV--bright orange. And since I thought it was a bit early to change the green eggs concept, I used the next best thing to green food coloring: pesto. So the green eggs that the kids were eating were really plain old scrambled eggs drenched in pesto sauce. The uninformed eye would think it was the best meal those kids had ever eaten.

This short reading and eating episode turned into daily requests for green eggs. Little did I know how this would catch on! But eating green eggs all the time can get boring, so I had to twist the concept a bit, and bring out the orange food coloring to spice things up, so to speak. The next time we read Green Eggs and Ham, the eggs we ate were orange and tasted noticeably different from the first batch. Who would have known the kids would like plain eggs better than ones topped with frozen pesto..

A week after the second round of eggs, we had birthday parties here at RVCV. Birthday parties take place once a month; every house gets a cake for however many kids have birthdays that month. I stopped into Serengeti to watch the celebration and the conversation quickly (as usual lately) turned to eggs. Boazi looked at me with a hopeful and serious face, "Taylor," he said, "Can you mail me orange eggs for my birthday?"

Green eggs!

Motown and Miss-you's

2009-04-19T03:59:00.035-04:00

Listen, Baaaaby!: Motown in Tanzania
Volunteers have always been responsible for planning kid activities on Saturday. Kat (another volunteer) and I have embraced this responsibility with (I like to think) unparallelled enthusiasm -- some of our better ideas include a scavenger hunt, chalk murals, an Easter parade, and my favorite, a dance party. (Being good recent-college-grads, it was only a matter of time before we busted out some dance moves with these kids.)

There are several things to consider when you throw a dance party in a foreign country. The most obvious is musical choice. Considering we're in Africa, you'd think it'd be easy to track down some great stuff to listen to with the kids. But since all of the volunteers here are from the States, the closest most of our ipods come to Africa is a song by Paul Simon or Toto. So we settled on motown - a happy medium? In honor of Obama (we honor him a lot here..) we played "Signed, Sealed, Delivered", the Jackson Five made several appearances on the playlist, but the biggest hit was "Ain't No Mountain High Enough," largely due to the belt-it-out attitude that Kat and I demonstrate during that song. Never before have I serenaded such a large group of people with such feeling (and so many hand gestures...) as during "Listen, Baby" as the kids have termed the tune.

For the mental image: imagine me leading a conga line of about 25 kids, aged 3 to 14, flailing my arms wildly to show just how high a mountain could be, how wide a river could be before it "keeps me from gettin' to you babe." Cause baby there ain't no mountain high enough...

Sunday dance line

Even when they're still on the property, I miss the kids!
Every two weeks, two of the kids in the Village go to Kiran House for a week. Mama India (the founder of the Children's Village) lives in Kiran; rotating the kids through like this helps her to get to know them well and check up with them on a regular basis. All of the kids are thrilled when it's there turn to stay with Mama--they pack up their clothes for the week and anxiously run down the hill to her house.

A few weeks ago it was Vicenti's turn to stay at Mama India's. Vicenti is one of the younger kids in Serengeti and is also one of the most lovable. His missing front teeth make him extra adorable when he gives me hugs every day. When he left for the week, I really missed him and didn't miss an opportunity all week long to tell him that when I saw him around the Village after school and during playtime. "I miss you soooooooo much!! When are you coming home??" I'd ask as I squeezed him tight and saw how unable he was to contain himself.

At bedtime on Thursday night, the day before Vicenti would come back to Serengeti, India said that Vicenti had asked, "Am I going back to Serengeti tomorrow?" India answered that he would be, and Vicenti looked relieved. India waited for further explanation, and Vicenti responded, "Okay, because Taylor really misses me. I think I need to go back home for her soon."

Hello from the Serengeti!

2009-04-15T02:34:00.008-04:00

Hello from Serengeti National Park! Here are two of the winning shots of the past 4 days. More to come when I eventually make the Tanzania video!

A lioness on a kopje (huge rock - granite intrusion that's been eroded from the earth) in the Serengeti. (I took this picture with my point and shoot through binoculars!)

Lions' Eyes: A Second Trip to the Serengeti

This week I'm in the Serengeti for a few days as a respite from life at the Children's Village, and to indulge myself with some more Tanzanian wildlife. This is my second trip to the Serengeti, and already I feel like I've seen twice as many animals. The highlights this time have most certainly been the wildebeest migration and the resident lions in the park.

The migration is everything it is touted to be, and then a whole lot more. The animals stretch as far as the eye can see--literally millions of them (1.6 to be exact), all moving along the Serengeti Plains in search of fresh water and grasses. When they're close you can see how many of the mothers have newborn calves, hungry for milk; when you look out into the distance you get an impression of utter enormity--countless dots (each a single animal) line the horizon.

As incredible as the migration was, the lions are really the stars of the show. Though we haven't seen any kills, we've seen lions almost 10 times over the past 3 and a half days. Two groups of lions sleeping on kopjes (large granite intrusions that litter the Serengeti), and two lions in trees (that's relatively rare to see!) I was on safari with another volunteer, Alanna, (who is 26 and about to get a joint degree, MBA and teaching, at Stanford). We had pretty similar animals observing/scientific inquiry habits, so we spent about 3 hours one day watching one of the groups of lions--6 full grown males, 7 females and several cubs. The dynamics of a lion pride are absolutely fascinating - the interactions between the males and females, the way the females watch over their cubs, the way the cubs nudge the mothers for milk and the annoyed growls and snaps the females often give, how at least one member of the pride keeps a constant, confident look-out.

Exploring Tanzania on Wheels and Visiting Foreign Embassies in Foreign Countries

2009-04-13T19:42:00.004-04:00

Last Wednesday I began a 72-hour epic journey to Dar es Salaam to apply for a tourist visa to Ch--- (names have been left out because I don't have my visa yet!) Dar is the notoriously hot and humid commercial center of Tanzania, the only city in the country with a Ch--- consulate, and also about a 12-hour journey via road from the Rift Valley Children’s Village. How I ended up in this situation—applying for a visa from a foreign embassy while in a foreign country—I don’t even want to begin to explain; we’ll just take that at face value at this point. Forty-five minutes from RVCV to Karatu, plus 2.5 hours from Karatu to Arusha, plus the 9-hour bus ride to Dar es Salaam. All sounds well and good, except the Ch--- have thrown in a twist. The embassy is open for only 2 hours per day, 3 days per week. Perhaps they are selecting for only the most persistent of tourists…it couldn’t possibly have been a sign of some of the unreasonable things to come on my visit!

The excursion began on Wednesday afternoon; my travel companion was Andy, who runs the microfinance program at RVCV, has been in Tanzania for about 2 years and consequently knows Kiswahili very well. Talk about a perfect person to have you when you’re taking local transport and dealing with foreign embassies that are in foreign countries to start with. We began the journey with the 2.5-hour ride to Arusha in a speed taxi – a glorified station wagon that packs in up to 10 people at a time. Being a seasoned traveler in Tanzania, Andy suggested that we buy a third seat to share between the two of us. Wise choice – the middle row ended up with three huge Tanzanian guys who looked wildly smushed, despite the fact that they were actually under-quota for the usual number of passengers in that row (4). Surprisingly, the drive was okay; it would have been more scenic were it not for the itty-bitty windshield and broad shoulders in the row ahead, which were blocking our view.

The following morning, we awoke at 6 am to catch the 7am bus to Dar es Salaam. Andy, of course, did all of the talking. “Boos luxury” is all I caught out of the conversation, and I thought about how unluxurious the luxury buses in Ecuador had been. The bus was a pleasant surprise, apart from its lack of a bathroom, but that’s to be expected, even for buses making full day journeys across the country. Dar was just as hot and humid as I expected, full of drivers not observing traffic laws, people moving about all over the place. I was dripping with sweat within minutes of exiting the bus - to most people this is the only sentence needed to describe Dar es Salaam.

The next morning, I rose with determination. I came to Dar with a mission to get a visa, and today was my day to shine. I had done all of the research on documents and forms that I'd need and was ready to roll. Of course the day began with the realization that I no longer had enough cash to pay for the visa in the first place, not to mention the bribe money I might need. (Unfortunately that's a very real part of how things work here, and I was hoping to break the mold and get my visa in just one day--the same day--which in Ch--- embassy in Tanzania terms is just two hours.) The wild goose chase for an ATM that actually worked brought us to a 9:20am arrival at the gated Embassy door. I smiled my way inside, received a second form to fill out for the visa. (I guess the form that I brought, which was exactly the same, wasn't good enough.) Then I made it to the front of the line and was asked to go to the back because my picture wasn't affixed to the application form. So I glued it on, and finally made it to the window at 9:50am. (With only an hour and 10 minutes left til closing.)

At that point the woman at the counter, who seemed nice enough (but had also been the one to demand that I affix my photo before proceeding any further) asked for my Tanzanian Residence Permit. Of course I have the Residence Permit I said....TWELVE HOURS BACK IN OLDEANI!! I kindly explained to her that I am American, volunteering in Tanzania and had spent 12 hours traveling to Dar. Though I have a permit, I don't have it with me. No way around that, she said. "You need the original copy." Yeah right, I thought, and within 5 minutes of persuasive chatting, she had agreed to let me use a copy that I'd scanned in and printed out - someone back at RVCV was on that task in seconds.

She examined my application more thoroughly. I'm staying in a private residence on my visit? Do I have a formal invitation to do that? Of course not--why would anyone remember to include that piece of information on the visa application checklist that I had looked up online before even leaving for Dar? And it can't be an email she tells me. It must be a hand written invitation. Ever clever, as I dashed out the door in search of an internet cafe to print my permit, I was already crafting the message for my travel buddy Andy...I mean Julia, my friend and host in Ch---, to write to me. We finally came upon a print shop and while I begged my way to the front of the line, Andy wrote the message. Of course I was unable to print the document at the print shop (don't even ask), and when it was quarter to 11 (the embassy closes at 11), I cut my losses and decided to rely upon persuasion and puppy dog eyes to get the visa.

When I approached the window for the third time, the woman looked at me approvingly as if to say Ahh, you have done all that I have asked. I will now grant you the visa. Wellll not quite, I thought. "So," I began, "I found a package that my friend had sent to me to apply for the visa and guess what? She knew that I needed the written invitation and wrote me the note. I just didn't find it until now!" I unfolded the note, which I had folded up about 10 minutes before to make it look like it had been through a lot. She looked pleased and began to read the note out loud. I was hearing it for the first time. To whom it may concern, This note is for the proper authorities... "The proper authorities??" the woman repeated. I worried. Then she goes, "This note really is from Ch---!" I should have known that she'd appreciate being addressed as a proper authority. Weird, but I guess not that surprising.

At the end of all that, when I had talked my way through some more missing documents, she had filled out the paperwork and told me I'd have the visa by noon that day, she finally took my passport and then read dismayingly, "United States passport?" "Yes," I replied, "I'm an American..." "Oh no," she says, "We can't expedite for Americans. Five days. Sorry." I could tell we'd reached the end of the line. After all of that, political b.s. would force me back to Dar for a second time... to be continued...

2009-04-12T20:58:00.007-04:00

Landscapes: The Children's Village, Campi NairobiThe Children's Village is located in a super picturesque area that looks more like Tuscany than anywhere in Africa I've seen before. We're on the slopes of the Ngorongoro Crater, on a patch of 7 acres that was donated to the Tanzanian Children's Fund for the purpose of creating this village. Around the Village, there are lush, rolling hills mostly filled with coffee estates. The village, as I've described in blog posts is a very well accommodated living area. We have flush toilets, twin beds and warm showers and it's all on a sort of fenced in compound to keep us safe. See my friend and fellow volunteer Tracie's blog (click the link) for a few pictures and other short posts.

Across the street, there are the traditional mud homes of a squatters' village called Campi Nairobi, which was formed by workers of the Kiran coffee estate. There are no flush toilets, a well where everyone gets their water, no electricity, etc. Lots of my kindergartners come from Campi, and it's unfortunately easy to see the difference between the kids from the Village and the kids from Campi, many of whom get their single meal of the day at the primary school because of a program started by RVCV to give kids lunch and a vitamin every school day.

Happy Easter from RVCV!

2009-04-11T02:30:00.003-04:00

Pictures from our Easter parade yesterday!!

Serengeti Bedtime Rituals: Stories, Hugs, Kisses, Beanie Babies

2009-04-11T01:28:00.018-04:00

My favorite part of everyday is bedtime. It's pretty much the only moment in the day when the entire house is physically in the house, and isn't getting ready to go to school or go out to play or do any of the other things that occupy their days. At story time you've got their attention and at least 4 of them are usually in the mood to snuggle. I love it. And I see it as one of the most important parts of the day to make them feel safe and loved.

In my early weeks, the bedtime routine was crazy. We started with a story. The kids would argue over story choices, then jump all over each other, jockeying for a good spot to see the book we'd chosen. This quickly spurred me to awkwardly learn to read upside down, with the book perpetually facing my kid audience. After the story, I'd tuck the kids in. That's when the mayhem really started, especially with the boys. I would be carrying each of the eight to his bed, launching every other up to the top bunk (the strength and logistics of this are pretty impressive) and within a few seconds I'd turn my back to find the recent bed-delivery anxiously awaiting a re-do drop-off. "Yeah riiiiight" I'd say and they'd giggle and affix themselves to my legs like superglue. When they finally all got into bed, I would begin the hugs and kisses.

On my first night I didn't realize the excitement with with my little boys would approach goodnight kisses, but I quickly realized their plan: work together as a team-if one of us can get her on the lips, we all win. You may remember from one of my first TZ posts, Christopher was the winner the first night. As I leaned in to give this cute little 9 year old a hug and a kiss, he swooped in without warning and planted a big one straight on my lips. The entire boys room erupted in laughter as my jaw nearly hit the floor from a combination of embarrassment and total love of the scene that made them laugh so hard. Needless to say I have yet to be tricked again.

They've each developed their own little hug/kiss routine, too. Vicenti, who is 7, still has me lift him into bed. He gives me the tightest hugs of all. Paulo and Isaka both sleep on the top bunks; their beds make an L-shape and I fit right between where the beds meet. I stand between the two and they simultaneously give me a peck on the cheek. This has become the cool way for the oldest boys in the house to say goodnight. Whatever the particular hug/kiss routine, tucking the kids in is my absolute favorite part of every day. I wish them sweet dreams, tell them I love them, and really mean it.

Then there are the Beanie Babies, which have become an integral part of bedtime activities in Serengeti House. It all started in about the year 1996 when Beanie Babies became an American phenomenon. And being good little tween-aged American girls, my sister and I (and to some extent even my mom!) bought into the Beanie craze and started up our collections. In the next few years we amassed an embarrassingly large number of Beanies, and when the craze died out among us (even though it was still going strong in the mainstream) our Beanies went into Tupperware containers while we waited to figure out when their second lives would begin. And then while packing my already small backpack for Tanzania, it dawned on me. Why not put several of these 200 or so Beanies in your bag for the kids at RVCV? So out went some shirts and shampoo and in went 40, yes forty, Beanie Babies.

So one day about a month ago Paulo was feeling pretty sick and had stayed home from school. In an effort to make him feel better I brought him the golden retriever beanie that I had snuggled on my first night in Africa. Being an older kid, Paulo was relatively uninterested, but Boazi who is 7, was instantly obsessed. His eyes lit up at the sight of that dog, and we talked about how to take care of it (his name is Fetch...) and how to play with him and make him happy. I've recently had to start a snuggle-with-Fetch schedule because of his wild popularity.

Here are some shots from the scavenger hunt we organized last weekend. Kat (the blond volunteer) and I were a hunt item: Take a funny picture with Kat and Taylor. (The products of the kids' search are below! Click the images to see them larger!)

Last week the volunteers had an Obama Kanga party (kangas are wraps that all of the Tanzanian women wear, all the time). They are graced with a huge portrait of Barack Obama and two maps of Africa that appear on either side of his face. You can get them in red and blue and they’re wildly popular in Tanzania. So in honor of Obama, we had our little kanga party last weekend – another volunteer, Kat and I decided to wear ours as dresses. Tracie, a lady from Dallas TX who is great and who has become a great friend, fashioned hers as a head wrap and skirt (picture the Chiquita Banana lady). It was a great time. There's nothing like a late night dance party in rural Tanzania while you're wearing Obama-kanga gear.

Butts Big Like Elephants

2009-04-08T22:06:00.000-04:00

Last Saturday I took a few of the kids (Happy, Boazi and Vicenti) to the playground at school, which is just a 5 minute walk away. On the walk back, Vicenti was way up ahead, I was walking with Happy and Boazi was trailing behind. Faintly, I overheard Boazi talking to himself. The dialogue was as follows...

(matter of factly) "Taylor's got a big butt."

(the affirmation) "…a huge butt."

(directed to me) "Taylor, you've got a butt big like an elephant."

I couldn’t help but laugh. He had no idea I'd heard him, and within moments Boazi had broken into song: "Taylor's got a biiiig butt, big like an elephaaaant."

Boaz

Shule (‘shoo-lay’) in Tanzania - 4 stories in 1

2009-03-20T08:38:00.008-04:00

This post is all about my school experiences in Tanzania – the wonders of arbitrary grading; student teachers (who teach at the primary school, play volleyball in the evenings and generally make the kids happy with relay races, soccer practice and even math problems); an incidence of corporal punishment; Chica Chica, Boom Boom and the flower project I started for the kindergarten, with my elementary school teachers and gardening mom in mind.

Here are some of the kids watering their plant; Teacher Taylor standing to the left

Chica Chica, Boom Boom and the Cheke Chea (‘Check-ee Chay-ah’) Flower Project
I love being with the kindergartners more and more every day. Last week we read Dr. Seuss’ Foot Book and the kids repeated every line of the story after me. It was as if they were reading in English: “Left foot, Right foot.” “Wet foot, Dry foot; Low foot, High foot.” Considering how much as they loved the foot book, the following day there was some pressure on my story choice. I’ve got a class full of little kids to please – better pick something good!

Reflecting on my own year in kindergarten, the other day I thought about the story Chica Chica, Boom Boom – the tale of 26 alphabet letters trying to climb to the top of a coconut tree. I wonder if the story that I remember reading as a kindergartner 17 years ago is hiding somewhere around here, I thought. Would you believe that as I perused the bookshelf that day, of the 25 books on the shelf, one of them was Chica Chica, Boom Boom?! I pulled the book off the shelf like an excited 6 year old and excitedly flipped through the pages, re-reading the story for what must have been the 150th time. Chica chica, boom boom; will there be enough room? I was thrilled, and since the kids are learning the alphabet, it was perfect. They took off with it right way and each time I said the famous phrase, they followed suit. They said it happily, laughing, in a whisper, slowly, quickly, loudly—every which way as if they were the two greatest words of all time.

Later outside, I sat on some rocks watching the kids play on the playground. "Chica chica, boom boom!" said a voice. "Chica chica, boom boom!" said another. I turned to see where all of those chicas and booms were coming from. As each kid slid down the slide, they shouted it – over and over. Sometime tells me it’s taken hold, and I can’t wait to read it again tomorrow.

Further drawing on my own elementary school experience, I started a flower project with the Cheke Chea last week. So much of life revolves around planting and growth here that it will be nice for the kids to water their own seeds and watch them grow, and in the process, learn the English words for seed, dirt, flower and water.

It’s amazing to see what you can create when you use only the materials that are around you. Sue helped me make the flower pots with soda cans cut in half, dirt and compost, and some nasturtium seeds that she was planting in front of the kids’ houses. No need to buy plastic pots, just use the coke can you drank from last week. At school, the kids’ excitement was so refreshing and so fun - they eagerly waited to tough the can, each reached their little hands into the bag of dirt and dropped their handful into the can, spilling lots of it on the table, which actually became part of the fun. It was so nice to see them give the seeds their first tastes of water. For the past week, we’ve watered the seeds regularly, and just last night two of the four started to sprout. It’ll be awesome to see their faces today when I bring the cans to school and show them that their flowers have begun to grow!

Two of my Cheke Chea students, Emmanuel and Tobias

One of My Favorite Things: Rift Valley’s Student-Teacher Program
Some of my most favorite people here in Tanzania are the student teachers, selected and sponsored by the RVCV, who work at the Gyetighi Primary School (where I help with kindergarten). The student teachers aren’t far from my age—most are about 19. They’re either just starting, or in the middle of, secondary school, and they spend a year living at the RVCV in the children’s houses and serving as student-teachers to earn a scholarship for secondary school. They don’t necessarily aspire to be teachers, but from what I’ve seen they are all wonderful with kids, and I’d assume, great teachers as well. The staff here have said that usually the student teachers arrive each year shy, nervous about speaking English and as the year progresses, their English ability inevitably soars as does their general self-confidence.

On Friday, there was a party to honor the out-going student-teachers and welcome the new ones. Everyone who works at the Primary school was invited to attend. The party was in the Rec Hall, which is like a school gym, complete with cement floor and caged windows. That night, there were nicely decorated tables and primary school teachers dressed in their best.

For me, the party seemed like fun and games: chit chat with my 50 word Kiswahili vocabulary, and drink a few beers. But when the student-teachers stood to say a few works about their experience, it hit me. We were sitting over an exposed cement floor, with torrential downpour of rain coming down on the tin roof (it’s the start of the rainy season), enjoying the luxury of beer and soda in glass bottles. I looked around at the women dressed in kangas (African wraps) and head-scarves, and men in baggy dress pants; but as the student-teachers were visibly emotional, I understood how special of an occasion this must be for them. The student-teachers have these positions because they’ve earned them, and they really need the scholarships that the positions award. The wouldn’t be able to go to secondary school (our equivalent of high school) without that scholarship money.

One of the student-teachers in particular made a particularly moving speech about what this experience meant to him. Of course I couldn’t understand a word he was saying – it was all in Kiswahili. But boy did I understand what he meant.

Volunteers Bonnie and Sue with India, Nalingi and Nicola

Hitting in Schools: slow progress
On a less positive note, though lots of strides have been made in school, there’s still a lot of work to be done. Corporal punishment was made illegal in Tanzanian schools about 10 years ago, but even though the law is on the books, hitting still happens in many Tanzanian schools. ‘It’s just the way it’s always been done.’ The RVCV has worked very hard to discourage hitting as punishment at Gyetighi; they’ve said that it took about 4 years to eliminate the practice. That length of time reflects the, as Lonely Planet puts it, often stubborn nature of Tanzanian culture, and the trappings that go along with a bunch of mzungus (white people) trying to better developing world school systems.

Sadly, these things take time. Last Friday one of the girls at RVCV came home with an extremely swollen upper lip. It looked to me like she’d gotten punched in the face—she was having a hard time talking, her eyes were downcast and she looked pretty uncomfortable. It made me worried—she’s normally smiley and cheerful and always has something to tell me. I asked what happened and one of the other girls told me that a stick had hit her at school. Ugh. ‘Stick’ suggests punishment.

Later in the day, we sat down to talk. One of her teachers had punished a boy in her class that day because “he didn’t answer a question right.” The question was “Who is the head of the school?” The boy had written “dada,” which in Swahili, means sister. As the girl put it, “he got punished because he didn’t understand.” As the teacher swung the stick backward, either a piece or the entire stick hit the girl’s lip—she shied away from giving me much detail. Either way, she was an unintended benefactor of punishment that is against the law in the first place.

I share this story to illuminate this issue, and show how effective the RVCV has been in almost completely eliminating this type of punishment at school. This is the only incident I’ve heard of in 4 weeks here, which says a lot considering how regular corporal punishment was in this school before the RVCV started. This whole incident is obviously disturbing – the reason for punishment and the force of the apparent force of the hit. But I’m happy to report that the situation is being handled by the senior staff. Considering the way that I’ve seen them handle other issues at the school, I’m confident that this incident will only help move the school more in the right direction.

Grading: “This is 100%. But this looks like a 92.6. And this one, this is definitely an 87.4. This is 83.2…”
Every time I’m working with the kids, I try to remember what it used to be like to be one. Going to school, going up to the blackboard, getting 100%, being embarrassed after getting a problem wrong. But as hard as I try, I don’t ever remember having an ‘exam’ in kindergarten.

A few weeks ago, the kindergartners had ‘exam day.’ Comical as this was to me, as the English teacher, I was in charge of the English exam. All we had done at that point was say the alphabet…how are you supposed to have an exam on that? Apparently, you have them orally identify and individually write letter combinations (of A,B,C,D). When the kids finished, they handed the papers in to their teachers. Then the real teachers handed the papers to me to mark. Does something seem wrong with this picture? I was obviously completely clueless. “Just give it a percentage.” Still clueless. How do you figure out what is 100% versus 90% and what do you give to the kids who needed help as they were writing and still came out with barely comprehensible letters? And then it dawned on me. These are the wonders of grading.

So how do you figure out the marks? Of the four letters the kid wrote, how many were legible? If one wasn’t legible, it should be a 75% right? But then I thought about the intricacies of legibility – was the illegible letter just tilted/rotated/upside down? Or was it clearly just a scribble? Surely I shouldn’t deduct 25% for a B that looked like an upside down 3… My goodness, I thought, how can this be so difficult?? Remembering that they are only kindergartners after all, most got 100% (though none were perfect), some 90% and 80%, and two 25%. I suspect that the two kids who got 25% have learning disabilities; the sad thing is that there appears not to be much done to help them. One little boy wrote all of his letters in reverse order and as mirror images. Since ‘exam day,’ I’ve started to give extra help to some of the kids during playtime, and am noticing the teachers call on the kids who are falling behind more during class time. If that’s the only contribution I make here—trying to make sure that the kids who need the most help are getting it, I’ll be satisfied.

Happy Colgate Day!

2009-03-13T16:39:00.001-04:00

Happy Colgate Day to all!

Bringing the celebration global. I talked about Colgate day all day long with the kids. Here I am with Ericki, Boaz and Josephat (who is sporting a Colgate T!)

"This is Tanzania"

2009-03-13T01:46:00.013-04:00

You’ve probably heard the acronym TIA before. People usually say it when something ridiculous happens that can’t be explained, so it’s just explained with a shrug and three letters: TIA (this is Africa). Some volunteers at RVCV have modified it a bit to reflect our specific location on the continent: TIT. This is Tanzania.

Starting with the basics – cell phones. It seems like everyone here has a cell phone, and what’s more, there is cell service all over the place. For a country with so little infrastructure (my lack of elaboration should indicate how little there really is), the cell phone phenomenon is incredible. How can ‘everyone’ afford to have a cell phone, when practically everyone is suffering from poverty, lack of education, etc., etc? Oh well, I guess TIT.

In some respects, I’m glad cell phones and service are so widely available – my phone has certainly helped combat homesickness before it even arises. At the same time, it’s making me feel like I’m not really where I am, which is something I’ve really been struggling with here, both on safari and at the RVCV. I have a cell phone, internet, food that pretty much tastes like it does at home, a warm shower that works relatively well, 2 dogs on the property (they threw me for a joyous loop), volunteers who are exclusively native English speakers…Really, if I didn’t know better I’d think I was on American soil. The philosophy behind all of this is that if you’re well fed, sleeping soundly and having people cook and clean for you, you’ll be a happier, more effective volunteer.

Travel is what you make it. So I’ve been trying to seek out some more unique experiences to spice up the daily routine. This past weekend, I walked with Bonnie and Sue (two other volunteers – wonderful buddies and Canadians in their mid-60s), to one of the Mama’s homes, a typical house in this area constructed of clay-like mud on a wood frame, topped by a thatch roof. For structural reasons the Mama’s house has no windows, and the interior is relatively open and cool, and very dark. The two-room home was probably 20’ x 12’ total size, divided in half – one half for sleeping and the other for cooking and eating. There was a small dog that looked oddly similar to the dogs I’d frequently see in Ecuador (the ‘third world breed’?) and chickens that ran in and out of the door, clucking at each other. No electricity, just the basics. The home was one of three, perched upon a hill among endless rows of coffee plants—this area of the country is jammed with coffee estates begun when Tanzania was a German colony.

I’m enjoying the kids, while trying to learn as much as I can about this country, this continent and the larger issues that they both face.

Notes on Becoming a Tooth Fairy

2009-03-08T19:31:00.001-04:00

On Sunday night when I returned to the Serengeti house after dinner, the boys’ room was a buzz with talk of the tooth fairy. Simone had lost a tooth and had placed it under his pillow in anxious hopes that the tooth fairy would exchange it for a present. Thank goodness I had overheard other volunteers discussing tooth fairy protocol, because ‘lessons on becoming a tooth fairy’ aren’t included in the volunteer manual I received when I arrived! It wasn’t until 4:40am the following morning that I remembered I was in charge of getting the tooth fairy gift and secretly depositing it under Simone’s pillow in the middle of the night. Frantic that I’d forget and Simone would be crushed, I set my alarm for 5:50 am. (As if Simone, who is 9 years old doesn’t already have suspicions about the tooth fairy.)

Seeing as this was my first time as a tooth fairy, I thought out my plan carefully. Waking up at 5:50 would give me enough time to find a tooth fairy gift, dress in some bank-robber-esque attire, and perform the exchange right around wake-up time (which would provide the perfect cover story, should I get caught in the act). The biggest challenge would be the sheer number of boys, which I thought of as ‘landmines’, in the room. All eight of them were just waiting to be woken up by the slightest noise or rise in air temperature. Not only did I need to be careful enough not to disturb Simone (did I mention he sleeps on the top bunk?) I couldn’t wake up the other 7 boys either. What a challenge!

So, dressed in dark brown pants and a maroon hoodie pulled over my head (silhouetted curly hair would totally give me away), I crept barefoot into the boys’ room. I turned down the kerosene lamp - for cover of darkness. Tiptoeing across the room to Simone’s bed, I stepped up on the frame to reach the top bunk. My feet were less than 12 inches from Boaz’s face. ‘What would I do if he woke up now’ I thought. It was as if the worldwide future of the tooth fairy rest on my shoulders. Luck would have it that he was facing me, so there was no way I was getting the tooth from under his pillow. I slipped a rubber ball under Simone’s covers – the only remotely masculine toy in the ‘tooth fairy trunk’. How in the world did my mom make it through 28 teeth x 2 kids! Tooth fairy nightmare! I carefully climbed down from the bed, tiptoed out of the room and straight to my bedroom to change into different clothes. More fairy strategy - cover your tracks.

Within minutes of wake up, the boys were shouting that the tooth fairy had come. Success. I spent most of breakfast hoping that no one else would lose a tooth for a while. Then, Happy came out of the bathroom with something in her hand. She proudly opened her fist, revealing a molar, while happily tilting her head back to show me its former home. Round two…

Elephants, zebras, giraffes can fly: I’m back in Kindergarten

2009-03-01T22:28:00.000-05:00

Animals are flying through the air. Elephants, zebras, giraffes, koalas, bunny rabbits, cats, dogs and an occasional Minnie Mouse. Each is thrust in the air and a smiling face turns upward to see it rise and spin and slowly change direction towards the floor. The room is filled with kids laughing and I laugh too, just watching.

Everyday, I spend 1-3 pm in the Gyetighi Primary School helping out with Cheke Chea (Kindergarten). I teach English for 20 minutes, and then listen as the Tanzanian teachers talk about being nice to others and bathing, in Swahili. None of the kids in my class are from the Rift Valley Children’s Village. They live mostly in the squatters’ community across from the RVCV or in the communities scattered along the road to Oldeani. Unlike the kids at the Children’s Village, most of my kindergartners live in houses made of mud and brick. There are varying degrees of cleanliness in the class, with some kids being dressed in their school uniforms each day to others arriving in tattered clothes and shoes, looking unfortunately dirty. Regardless of appearances, all of the kids are smiley and greet me everyday in English with their cute accents: “goood ahf-ta-noon tee-cha’. Then throughout class they steal glances at me in the back of the room; when I catch them their eyes bulge and a big smile comes across their faces.

Teacher Elizabeth with the class

Cheke Chea out on the playground

Serengeti: The National Park and also My New Home

2009-02-28T09:37:00.010-05:00

I’ve now been at RVCV for ten days and feel like I’m beginning to understand what these kids have been through. There is so much energy, fun and love here that it’s easy to forget why these kids are here in the first place. Despite their young ages, many of these kids have experienced things that most of us would find unimaginable. I recently learned than when two of the kids arrived at RVCV – just six years old – as the sun set they started to walk out of the village gate in search of food for dinner, not realizing that they no longer needed to fend for themselves as they’d done before.

First and foremost, my job as a volunteer is to have fun and give love; and it’s great that that’s what I spend most of my day doing!! But one of my goals is also to understand these kids and the causes of abandonment more generally. It isn’t that the family love isn’t there. Either parent have too many children (the causes for that are cultural, economic, and education related) and cannot adequately care for them all, or the parents have died and the children have been left to family members, who likely have many children of their own already. Each Rift Valley child’s path here is different; I am slowly learning more and more of them.

What impresses me most of all is how well the Rift Valley Children’s Village handles these kids, provides a safe, loving and relatively permanent place for them to call home. They are happy and well-fed, go to school and have fun. In short, they live the life that all kids deserve!

Serengeti Stars

Here are some teasers for each kid in Serengeti House so you can start to get to know my 12 new friends!

Isaka is the oldest boy in the house and is by far the most truthful. I’m consistently impressed with what a role model he is for the rest of the boys. He never fails to help me out when I need to know who should be doing chores, or what time everyone needs to be at school. Evalina is Isakka’s sister and is equally conscientious. She is so well-mannered and respectful, she’s an absolute delight to be around. She can be so adult-like that sometimes I forget she’s only 9 years old! Janey is often thought of as the Serengeti troublemaker, though I think most of her troublesome acts are done for want of attention. And when you give her a hug, she really leans into you and you can feel how much she appreciates it.

On my first night in Serengeti, I went into the boys’ room to give them hugs and kisses goodnight. Nine-year-old Christopher, who is on the top bunk, was my last stop. I climbed up to give him a hug, and when I turned to kiss his cheek he took me by surprise and planted a kiss right on my lips! All of the boys cracked up as surprise and embarrassment showed on my face! Needless to say I haven’t been tricked since! Christopher’s sister, Cristina loves to read. Last weekend, she snuggled under my arm and read me Horton Hears a Hoo, sounding out Dr. Seuss’ crazy words with impressive persistence. Joshua is the youngest member of Serengeti House. He’s just 6 years old and still likes to hold hands even though he’s trying to be one of the big guys. Simon loves to play soccer and will always give a smile.

Happy is a chubby 9-year-old, who is (as her name suggests) usually happy! She’s spent the last week in Mama India’s house so I haven’t seen her much, but she always finds me on the morning walk to school to hold my hand. Thus far, Paulo and Vicent have remained relatively under the radar. No ridiculous dancing or crazy tag games at 8 am in the morning, but this past week I’ve gotten glimpses of their personalities. Paulo is relatively independent and competitive but if you catch him at the right moment, he’ll wiggle around and sneak you a smile. Vicent is pretty independent too, though when it comes time for tuck-ins at night, he’s always the one who gives me the tightest hug.

Last weekend while I was sitting in the volunteer house (an adult-only zone) a ‘pssst-pssst’ made me turn around to look at the door. There was Mole peering inside, waving at me to come out. Nine-year old Mole is one of the funniest kids in Serengeti; when I got outside, he made some small talk and then cut right to the chase. A question accompanied by one of his goofy smiles. Will I sneak him peanut butter cookie? We spent the rest of the afternoon snacking and coloring pictures together.

Mole’s half brother, Boaz, was my first friend in Serengeti. I tutor him every day before school, and usually we begin the day with a game of ‘chase me’ (usually just after 8 am!). He’s younger than the other boys, but is constantly trying to keep up with them, which often causes some frustration that comes out when we’re in a tutoring session. Despite the frustrations, I am always happy when we’re finished – Boaz’s goofy/loving/tough nature makes it exciting and interesting on a daily basis. And after all, he was my first friend.

First Days at Rift Valley Children’s Village

2009-02-21T19:29:00.001-05:00

RVCV is just outside of the Ngorongoro Conservation Area. We drove through the Serengeti Plain, where the flat land and grasses stretch as far as the eye can see, and arrived on the edge of the Ngorongoro Crater, into the Rift Valley, where there are rolling hills covered in trees or fertile farmland. The road that leads to the RVCV is long and bumpy red dirt; as we drove, dust poured in through the car windows. We eventually came to the top of the hill where the Geytighi Primary School and the RVCV are located – about a 5 minute walk apart.

Tomorrow I move into Serengeti House, where I’ll live for the next 10 weeks. There are 4 kid houses on the RVCV campus, each named after one of Tanzania’s national parks. Each house has 2 mamas and about 12 kids and up to 2 volunteers. The boys live on one side of the house and the girls on the other, and each group has their own bathroom. Life is very comfortable here for both kids and volunteers which is wonderful for both me and them!

Here how my day goes: 6am everyone wakes up, 6:30am fix the kids breakfast, 7am walk kids to school, 7:30am I eat breakfast, 9-10:30am tutor, 12:30 eat lunch, 1-3pm teach at kindergarten, 4:30pm snacktime with the kids, 6:30 the kids eat dinner (cooked by the mamas), 7:30 kids go to bed, 7:31 I go to bed. (just kidding, I don’t really sleep at 7:30…but some days I want to!)

In addition to providing general help during these times, I’m tutoring in the mornings for 2 hours, and helping at the kindergarten, called the Cheke Chea (Check-ee-Chay-ah) for 2 hours in the afternoon. I’m really excited about helping the kindergarteners; I think it’ll give me a great opportunity to contrast the kids at the RVCV with the kids of families who live in a ‘squatters’ village’ across the way. (The ‘squatters’ village’ has formed from the families who work on the coffee plantation adjustment to the RVCV land.)

The kids are wonderful. They smile constantly and are so friendly and warm it’s great (though don't get me wrong - they do have their 'moments'). Today, I helped them get ready for breakfast, and then Cristina, one of the girls in Serengeti house, read Horton Hears a Who to me. I spent the afternoon coloring with Mole (Mo-lay) and playing tic tac toe. Yesterday I honed my non-existent soccer skills, passing a ball around with 4 of the boys. I think that the game was extra enjoyable for them because of how I scramble when the ball is coming my way!

That's probably enough for now! I’ll be posting every week so stay tuned for more…there’s certainly a lot more to talk about already. I'm sooo dirty, and tired, but having a great time and really enjoying being here so far!

The Northern Circuit: Watching Leopards in Tanzania

2009-02-17T22:15:00.002-05:00

I didn’t quite understand how rare it is to see leopards walking around in broad daylight, when we joined a herd of Land Rovering safari-ers watching a female and her cub in the Serengeti. When the animals were within yards of our vehicle, my guide Joseph was stunned. It’s not the leopards themselves that were rare – in fact they are relatively common. But leopards are typically shy, tree-dwelling animals. Not to mention they’re nocturnal. So the chances of seeing a mother and cub walking among safari vehicles in broad daylight are relatively slim. Joseph had never seen them that way—not once in his ten years of guiding.

Not only was this a rare sight; it was a heartbreaking one. There were at least 15 other vehicles in this small area of the Serengeti, each driver jockeying for a better view every 60 seconds or so. The air was filled with loud noises of rumbling engines and the smell of diesel.

Nevertheless, watching the leopards was amazing. The mother and cub walked through grasses and occasionally straight down the middle of the safari road, which afforded an unusually close view of them. Their coats are magnificently and flawlessly spotted—a U-shaped dark brown patch with some lighter brown within. It doesn’t surprise me that these animals are hunted. Despite the spotted pattern, in the grasses, the leopards moved almost completely camouflaged. Especially when the cub moved through taller grasses, the only way I spotted it was by the flick of his spotted tail, which had a snow-white tip.

The pair moved about 100m toward the base of an acacia tree, where the female stretched out for a nap. I noticed another small figure on the ground near her. Was it her stomach, or did she have a second cub? My binoculars revealed a solid light brown coat…no spots. When the mother stood up, I realized that the brown coat was actually a kill! Time constraints coupled with the fact that I was guilty for being one of nearly 25 vehicles were swarmed across from the tree led me to call it a day at that point.

We checked on the leopard site again the following day. As we approached, we saw a herd of vehicles. Good sign. We parked in front of a tree where a spotted tail was swinging from the branches. A leopard lounged high up in the tree, draped over branches that were about 20 feet off of the ground. It appeared to be alone – different from yesterday’s mother and cub. I got out my binoculars to get a closer look; as I scanned the branches, some additional movement caught my eye. Another tail swinging on the left side of the tree! This was the mother and cub from yesterday! I wondered if the kill was up there with them. (Leopards typically drag their kills, usually antelopes and gazelles, up trees in order to protect them from other predators.) With my naked eye I scanned the lower branches, and noticed that a few of them were vertical—pretty abnormal for an acacia tree. Four vertical branches…which the binoculars revealed had hooves! The branches were actually legs of an antelope that the female had pulled up into the tree for safe-keeping.

Look closely and you'll see her up there:

The Northern Circuit: Watching Lions in Tanzania

2009-02-17T08:42:00.012-05:00

The Ngorongoro Crater is a UNESCO World Heritage Sight and the largest volcanic crater in the world (second to the Sierra Negra on the Galapagos Islands). The crater’s diameter is between 10 and 12 miles, and it’s about 2,000 feet in depth. It almost always has enough food and water to support large populations of diverse wildlife, including lions, wildebeests, gazelles, hyenas, cheetahs, elephants, ostriches, cranes and other birds, black rhino, zebras, flamingos, and the list goes on. (And yes, I saw all of the things that I listed during my 8 hours in the crater!) It is remarkable because of the amount of biodiversity in such a relatively small place…though when you look at the crater from the viewpoint (2000 feet up) it looks anything but small.

That crater is one of the most naturally amazing and awe-inspiring things I’ve ever seen. You look left and you look right and all you see is lush greenery, blue lines (water), and little dots (animals) below. It literally left me speechless; the only way I can describe it is how the dinosaurs in The Land Before Time talk about the ‘great valley’-this large, lush area filled with life. I didn’t speak for the entire 30 minute descent drive to the crater floor.

Ngorongoro Crater

Typically, on safari you spot animals not with your blind eye, but because several safari vehicles have gathered in one spot to observe one. Such was the case with the first lions I saw in the wild. Where several vehicles had gathered we found two female lions and two lion cubs asleep in the grass. If the lioness hadn’t been lying on her back with one foot stuck up in the air (much like Colby with you rub his belly), I wouldn’t have distinguished them from the tan colored grass blowing in the breeze. I sat watching the lions sleep for about an hour (I guess they weren't hungry that day) and Joseph (my safari guide) gave me background on lion prides and social structures. Lionesses are pretty fascinating creatures. As permanent members of their pride, they do most of the hunting (males just come to eat once the kill has been had!) and also tend to mate and give birth relatively close in time. That way, all of the cubs are able to nurse from any lactating mother, thus bettering their chances of survival. Though they were asleep the females were large and muscular - powerful.The cubs were like little bundles of curious fuzz. As cool as it was, this wasn’t my best encounter with lions last week...

Serengeti. Home to the annual migration of millions of wildebeast, who travel the ‘endless plains’ following the rains and fresh grasses, there are few names of national parks that have drawn as much attention as Serengeti National Park in Tanzania. But Serengeti is home to far more than the 1.2 million wildebeast, zebras and gazelles that participate in the annual migration; just about every African safari animal you can think of lives there.

I spent my first day in Serengeti National Park patrolling for big cats. In the Ngorongoro Crater I had seen a lion, and by the time we got to Serengeti, I was thirsty for more. Lucky for me, we spotted two cheetahs in the morning, and came to two lions in the afternoon. I ate my lunch near a small pool of water where the two male lions were lounging. One of the males eventually perched on a small hill over the water pool. We sat and watched as the two slept, then woke and rolled about.

Some time passed and I noticed that small black figures were beginning to gather on the horizon. It soon became apparent that those black figures were wildebeast. A lion and a herd of wildebeast in the Serengeti? I’m not sure what could be more exciting! The herd continued to mass; it was heavy on calves. Males are usually not the hunters in the lion pride, but if there were females around, this could be the perfect moment for a kill. The wildebeast had stopped moving forward and were uncomfortably inching back and forth – by that point they had to have seen the lion, which my safari guide Joseph said would have made them extremely anxious. The minutes passed as the deadlock continued. My heart was racing from excitement and nervousness as a scene from National Geographic happened right before my eyes.

Then, the wildebeast on the left flank started to run away. Just as suddenly, the lion on the hill rose and paced toward the herd. He sped up to a trot and the herd panicked, spreading out in all directions. The lion had traveled about 100 feet toward the herd when he stopped, sat, and watched as the calves scrambled to find their mothers, and the air was filled with snorts as the wildebeast called to each other. He remained that way until the herd had cleared, and I marveled at the magic of being on safari. Thousands of wildebeast in search of water, confronted by a lion who threatens a kill, the wildebeast recognize their position in the food chain and give up without losing any members of the herd. See the picture in my last post for the scene.

Click the photo and you'll see what I'm referring to. (Look closely in the grasses...)

Jambo from Tanzania!

2009-02-12T12:47:00.006-05:00

After a long day of flying (7.5 hours from Newark, followed by 8.5 hours from Amsterdam), I arrived at Kilimanjaro Airport last night around 8:30 pm. Surprising, to say the least, considering my first plane out of Newark was delayed due to a damaged cargo door that rendered the plane unusable (does this sound strangely familar?), and a nearly missed connection out of Amsterdam. Though I made it onto the plane in Amsterdam, my two bags decided they'd rather spend a day in that famed city before meeting me in Tanzania. So, I've been sporting my outfit for almost three days now...an outfit which includes knee high neon green rainboots, which wouldn't fit in my backpack and thus ended up on my feet. They are most certainly the highlight (no pun intended...)

Anyway, I am currently in the Impala Hotel in Arusha, which is about 45 minutes away from Kilimanjaro, and probably the biggest tourist hub in all of Tanzania. Other than the pitch-black sky that greeted me when I got off the plane last night, I don't really feel like I'm in Africa. My hotel is filled with tourists, mostly European, who are staying here for just a night before beginning a safari on the Northern Safari-Circuit (one of the biggest tourist draws in all of Africa). I'm lucky enough to be leaving for a safari until next Wednesday evening, when I arrive at the Rift Valley Children's Village to begin 6 weeks as a volunteer with the Tanzanian Children's Fund. The Children's Village is just on the edge of the Ngorongoro Crater, just outside of Karatu. At the risk of spoiling the stories that will come from the safari and my first week at the Children's Village, I'll cut the post short here...

Just wanted to let everyone know that I made it here safe, am managing the stresses and excitement pretty well so far, and am looking forward to what comes next.

From the number of emails I’ve gotten so far, you all are very interested in what I’m doing in Tanzania! The short answer is, a whole lot. Last week I was on safari for 6 days (VERY COOL) and yesterday I arrived at the Rift Valley Children’s Village, the orphanage I’ll be volunteering with for the next 10 weeks.

TANZANIA is located in East Africa and is one of the richest African countries in terms of resources. The country is filled with national parks and what I’ve seen so far has been absolutely beautiful. The people are also some of the friendliest I’ve ever encountered. While the country is rich with resources, it also has it fair share of corruption and poverty. A large percentage of Tanzanians live on less than $2 per day. (It always requires me to pause to really think about what that would be like.) And, because of the prevalence of poverty and AIDS, many children are orphaned or abandoned. That’s where the Rift Valley Children’s Village comes in.

THE RIFT VALLEY CHILDREN's VILLAGE is an orphanage managed by the Tanzanian Children's Fund, which is a non-profit organization dedicated to providing intellectual, emotional and financial support to Tanzanian children in need. The TCF manages the Children’s Village as well as the nearby (5 minute walk) Geytighi primary school. The Children’s Village is an unbelievably well maintained and well-run and currently about 50 kids (mostly orphans) call it home. I’ll stop there for now – to see more, go to www.tanzanianchildrensfund.org where there are a host of videos and photos.

Hope to talk to you soon!
Taylor

The Recap in a New Way

2008-12-20T09:17:00.001-05:00

Ten Minutes: A look at Ecuador's Jungle and Enchanted Islands from Taylor Buonocore on Vimeo.

Last days in Ecuador and safe arrival back in the US

2008-12-15T15:32:00.003-05:00

When I returned to the rainforest in November...

I read about Ecuador in the New York Times: I spotted an article about a cooperative of Quichua communities who organically farm cacao and make organic chocolate in Ecuador. (The chocolate, Kallari, was sold in the bar 100 ft from the Jatun Sacha reserve.
I carried 10-meter-long (30 feet!) stalks of bamboo through the forest to help build a green house in the organic garden.
I made a second trip to the hospital because of another high fever and symptoms of malaria (thank goodness the test was negative again, and I am fine!).
One of the opportunities you can have as a volunteer at Jatun Sacha is serving as an English teacher in the local schools. This was one of the things I was most excited to do as a volunteer; unfortunately, upon my arrival in Ecuador I found out that I wouldn't qualify to be a teacher because I wouldn't be on the reserve for long enough. It wasn't until my final 2 weeks in Ecuador that I was able to visit the three schools nearest the reserve, but the three days that I spent at those schools are some of the most memorable, and meaningful, of my entire trip

A recap...

Starting in September there were bad feelings about my departure and an essentially cancelled flight, followed by an unplanned, extra week in the States. Next came a completely reworked itinerary, a drastically lighter backpack, a new attitude. Three days after my arrival, in the throws of culture shock, there was a 7-hour bus ride out to the Amazon rainforest. I arrived at Jatun Sacha, the reserve where I spent 2 of my 3 months in Ecuador. People from around the world lived in that reserve; we worked alongside Ecuadorians who had spent nearly their entire lives in the rainforest. I started learning Spanish from scratch. I was surrounded by trees, plants butterflies and bugs, each of which had a unique story and meaning. I witnessed a different kind of knowledge. In the Galapagos wildlife got up close and personal and I developed a sincere appreciation for the vastness and complexity of life on this planet. I realized the important of ‘just jumping in, getting your head underwater and looking around.’ In November there was a reunion with ‘old friends’ in the Amazon, and I realized how much I had missed the forest, its sounds and its inhabitants. Not once, but twice, I received medical treatment in a foreign country, relying on (limited) language skills to communicate problems and get treatment. Then I visited 3 schools in the Napo region. When a teacher at one of the schools asked if I would tutor some children in math (with Spanish, of course), I surprised myself with my eagerness to explore two areas I wouldn’t previously have considered strengths, and just how much I liked teaching the little kids. Then I began to prepare to come home, taking stock of all that I had learned (in such greater measure than I had expected!).

As you can see from the post title, I made it! I hope you've enjoyed following along all of these months. Keep a look-out for my next of emails when part 2 of this adventure begins and I leave for Tanzania, East Africa. After having the opportunity to work with kids in Ecuador, I can’t explain how excited I am to go to the Rift Valley Children’s Village in Tanzania. Stay tuned for more updates in a month or so…

Pictures from the Amazon

2008-12-03T19:27:00.002-05:00

Here are some pictures from the Amazon...

Teacher for a day - a photo of some of the kids in a neighboring school

Experiencing the best of the rainforest

Misahualli

Tree frog

All of the important things in life: food, community, purpose

"Here's how you can help: Teach these kids math. In Spanish."

2008-12-02T19:21:00.003-05:00

My first visit to an Ecuadorian school was a great experience. I delivered supplies to local schools with a couple from Colorado, who have started a nonprofit to raise funds and supplies for schools in the Napo region of Ecuador. My job was mostly to carry boxes, but to my surprise, I ended up being asked to speak to the kids (of elementary school age). I was afraid that I didn't know enough Spanish to say anything coherent to the kids, but I found the words to tell them that they were my first school friends in Ecuador, and that I hoped they found the new supplies useful for all of their studies. "School is very important. I was proud of you for being here and working hard." Hopefully they caught the message that my Spanish ability prevented me from conveying more poignantly!

My first visit as a teacher’s helper was to a place affectionately referred to as ‘the bad school’ by most of the volunteer teachers. Monte Alegre School’s resources are far less than other schools in the area; as a result, there is less structure and less supervision, and the kids tend to misbehave. Before I visited Monte Alegre, a volunteer teacher named Phil told me a story to illustrate. The previous week, one of Phil's students had brought a parrot to school, and sat at his desk plucking out the bird's feathers during class. Phil told me from the looks of things, it was unlikely that the bird would live for very long. He told the boy that he was hurting the parrot; 'we need to take care of animals.' But the message didn't sink in; the boy took the parrot home that afternoon. Even being the animal-lover that I am, the unfortunate reality is that there wasn't much else that Phil could do.

Monte Alegre's school is a one-room building, marked by a rectangular sign hanging by one of its corners. Inside, the room is split in half by two groups of desks facing in opposite directions (older/younger students). The desks are wooden, painted aquamarine, and can fit 2 students at each. When Phil and I arrived at school, about 15 kids were gathered outside -- I assumed it was recess. The lead teacher came to meet me, and as I spoke with her, a little girl, maybe about 6 years old, held my hand. I noticed 5 boys playing soccer next to the school, and another little girl, maybe 7 years old, peeled an orange. She used a large knife and had the skill of an adult; as I watched her in amazement, I realized that after school many of these kids probably go home to prepare dinner and care for younger siblings as if they were parents themselves.

Within minutes of my arrival, the teacher asked if I could help tutor math for the day. Math? I’m not the greatest math student anymore; I definitely can’t teach math in Spanish, I thought. Trying to be not only flexible but confident, I went with it, despite the limited math and Spanish vocabularies that I have. I spent my first hour teaching the greater than, less than, equal to concepts and symbols to 5th graders. I worked one-on-one with one girl, who repeatedly gave me both of the possible answers to each question I asked. She was struggling with the material, and I went over and over the problems with her. The more that we worked on the problems, the more my goal moved from teaching her the concept, to giving her the confidence to pick one answer definitively. The difficulties of this school and the challenges facing its teachers were becoming readily apparent.

Eventually, a little boy from the younger side of the room came over and listened in as I continued to explain the concepts. He seemed interested, so I didn't want to force him to go back to his usual side of the room. As we went through the exercises the boy started to give answers t o the problems, as well. And 9 times out of 10, he was correct. Furthermore, he could explain why he’d chosen each correct answer. He was in the 4th grade, and I was impressed. Knowing he needed to stay with his class, but not wanting to ask the boy to return to his usual side of the room without acknowledging his ability, I praised him for being such a good student and took a few minutes to talk to him about his favorite subjects (one of which was math). When I went back over to the 5th grade side of the room, I noticed the him looking at us, obviously wanting to join in again. This boy had really made an impression on me. On the way home from school that day, I described the boy to Phil. ‘You know who that is right?’ But I didn’t. Phil said, ‘That’s the kid who had the bird last week.”

More Pictures from the Galapagos

2008-11-14T14:07:00.002-05:00

Getting chased by a female sea lion...kind of scary when they come towards you at full speed!

Me on the pier on Isabela Island, an island with streets of sand, flamingos, marine iguanas, etc. (Notice my Colgate hoodie, which everyone here thinks I wear because I like using Colgate toothpaste....no joke)

Sea lions, definitely my favorite Galapagos animal. (The second picture shows the mother and baby sea lion I wrote about in the last post.) Click the thumbnails to make the pictures bigger.

Me with some blue footed boobies and a pelican on the pier of San Cristobal.

A close-up of a booby, with my plain point and shoot camera, and no zoom!

Me as a Giant Tortoise...heavy shells, that are hard to get into!

Rock face we snorkeled at.

Galapagos volunteers doing beach clean-up. In addition to chopping blackberry bushes all day every day, we sometimes headed to the coast, where we found tons of water bottles and other trash that had washed up from the ocean.

Getting to Know the Enchanted Islands

2008-11-10T22:44:00.005-05:00

For the most part this post is devoted to Galapagos wildlife because for the past two weeks I've had the pleasure of being a 'port dweller' (read: tourist). I have been observing sea lions, seeing volcanoes, swimming with hammerhead sharks and sea turtles, hanging out with blue footed boobies and relaxing on beaches after two months of volunteer manual labor. It isn't exactly what I expected to do for my last two weeks in the Galapagos (I thought I would be working!) but it has been absolutely spectacular. Like always, pick and choose...

If there is one thing worth saying first; one thing that I learned this past two weeks, it is how alive our planet is. It can be easy to overlook when you live in a place that doesn't much resemble the natural environment, but the natural environment is without a doubt, absolutely remarkable. And the ocean is the most impressive of all. From the surface it looks like a flowing mass that ends on the surface; underwater, so much of it is alive...but you'd never really know it without exploring somewhere new and putting your head under the water.

With a little help from me, this marine iguana on Playa Tortuga on Santa Cruz Island is telling you all 'Hi!'

This Place Really Is That Special
(this 'story' is long - each animal in focus is in bold so you can skip around I love documentaries. Though I don't watch tons of TV, the National Geographic and Discovery channels have the power to capture my attention for hours at a time, and practically glue me to a television screen. If I thought I could watch animals 'doing their thing' for hours before, being in the Galapagos has really taken that to a new level. I don't think I've ever seen a documentary on the Galapagos Islands; I had only heard about their 'enchanting' qualities, the unique flora and fauna, and the tame nature of the animals. Even with such a big buildup, I'm not sure any visitor to the Galapagos really expects to find what you'll find here. No written description will do it justice, but here's my attempt at describing the indescribable.

If you couldn't tell from my last post, the sea lions are one of my absolute favorite things to observe here. The qualities that they share with humans are astounding - they form large groups; have mother-child relationships; you can literally watch them learn just like you can watch a human learn; the list goes on. I think there's something particularly magical about watching the mothers and babies together. In the whole colony, there are usually about 7 or 8 mother and baby pairs, each with their own distinct call and smell. At nighttime, when it seems time for everyone to pair up, the beach is filled with whines from babies, which are responded to by barks from mothers. It's fun to watch the pairing process to see who will be matched with whom. Sometimes I can even guess the pairs myself, turning my head from left to right, mother to baby, like I am watching a tennis match. This certainly isn't to say that the calling is reserved for nighttime only. As I'm sure every mother reading will confirm, motherhood is a full-time job. And the sea lion mothers behave with innate diligence as they watch over their pups. The other day I saw several newborn pups on the beach - newborns as of that day I was told, because earlier frigate birds had been spotted fighting over placenta on the beach. One of the newborns was being coaxed to shore, along rough and uneven volcanic rocks, by its mother. The mother would bark an encouraging 'come on' at the pup, which would yelp this helpless cry which sounded strangely familiar to a new born human baby's cry. The pup struggled over the rocks, looking so weak, its brown flippers still marked with the raw light pink color of a newborn. Eventually, exhausted from trying to lift itself over a particularly large rock, the pup yelped a different sound, as if to say 'I just can't make it Mom' as the waves crashed around. I watched above, just over an arms length away from the two of them. The tide was coming in, but eventually the mother gave up. I imagine she was exhausted as well and she lay her head on the rocks, perched just slightly higher than her pup who was already asleep on the rocks below. She laid her head down to sleep, but didn't rest more than 10 seconds before she would lift her head up to check on the pup, occasionally letting out a bark, but usually just looking to make sure the pup was where she had left him. A few meters away, another pup was getting a swimming lesson. Both mother and pup were in the water, never more than 6 inches apart, as the pup was literally tossed around by incoming waves, and the mother expertly swam through the water and curved her body around the pup to cushion the pup's body as each wave arrived. The pup would get flipped around in the water, the mother pushing its head to the surface to ensure that it was still getting air.

The past weekend, I took another snorkeling trip out to Kicker Rock, a volcanic tuft cone off the coast of San Cristobal and the most famous site associated with the island. The last time I went to Kicker Rock I saw a few sea turtles, a bunch of Galapagos sharks, and the usual fish that surround the coral reefs. This time, I was with a different group of people, a different tour guide, and the tour owner, Manolo, who has become one of my friends, was with us too. You know those mornings when you wake up and just know it's going to be a good day? That morning was one of them. On the way out to Kicker Rock I sat on the front of the boat with a bunch of the other volunteers. As we approached the enormous rock, just sitting there in the ocean, we flopped around on the front of the boat and I had one of those 'I can't believe this is my life' moments. As impressive as Kicker Rock is from the surface, though, it's what's underwater that makes Kicker Rock so special.

We must not have been in the water for more than five minutes when someone yelled 'SHARKS!' Normally the yelling of that word would strike fear and panic to anyone in the water. In the Galapagos, it means you must swim as quickly as possible to the person yelling, put your face in the water immediately and frantically search for where the shark is swimming. Like a bunch of sharks ourselves, the entire group immediately swam to the guide, and to my surprise and total excitement, I looked down to see a swarm of Galapagos sharks beneath us. (They are vegetarians, just like me!) The water was just clear enough to make out their shapes, and just murky enough to allow them to appear and disappear rapidly, like they were emerging and hiding in a mist. And then, as I was watching the group of Galapagos sharks, someone yelled Hammerhead. I could barely hear, with my head submerge, but thinking that I had actually heard what I thought, I swam closer to the guide and there it was - one hammerhead shark swimming around beneath us. It wasn't in the mist - I could see it perfectly clearly. It's kind of weird to be in the water with a shark - like you are supposed to be afraid, but it's so far away that it can't hurt you; at the same time, it can swim so fast that if one decided to check you out, it wouldn't be long before you were making acquaintances. That one hammerhead wasn't all, either; before we left Kicker Rock we saw two more swimming together, swinging their big tails from side to side with enormous power that you could see even far away, and even while they were swimming casually.

I had to modify the color of this photo to make things easier to see - in the upper left quadrant of the picture you can faintly make out a hammerhead shark. Hammerheads are one of the rarest Galapagos animals - everyone was really excited about seeing this guy/gal. (Click the picture to make it bigger.)

Before we jumped in the water at Kicker Rock, one of the other volunteers on the trip said that all she wanted to see was a hammerhead. At the time, I thought that the chances were probably pretty slim - hammerheads are one of the rarest Galapagos animals to see while you are snorkeling. I had said that I really wanted to see a group of sea turtles swimming together. I had loved seeing the individuals swimming on our last trip, but was really up for a Finding-Nemo-in-real-life-experience...also completely up to chance. Pretty much safe to say that last Saturday was the day when lots of Galapagos wishes were granted!

When we spotted the first sea turtle, it looked like it was swimming by itself. Then slowly, more and more began to appear, almost like they were coming out of the mist the way the sharks had. Being so close to the group, coupled with the three-dimensionality of the water was so cool. (Here's where the indescribability comes in.) My favorite moment was seeing four turtles together, spaced about 4 meters apart, each at a different depth in the water, their flippers moving every 10 seconds or so, and floating for the rest of the time. They are carefree, gliding through the water effortlessly against the backdrop of an endlessly colorful coral reef that is sprawling with life. If there is one thing that I learned this past two weeks, it is how alive our planet is. I can be easy to overlook when you live in a place that doesn't much resemble the natural environment, but the natural environment is without a doubt, absolutely remarkable. Basically I see two things - survival and social interaction. All of the animals that I have seen here share those things with humans: fish and birds, sea lions and sharks, iguanas and crabs. And in terms of the natural environment, I think that the ocean might be the most impressive of all. From the surface it looks like a flowing mass that ends on the surface; underwater, so much of it is alive...but you'd never really know it without exploring somewhere new and putting your head under the water.
It's faint but it's there: a sea turtle on the left...and a rare Galapagos fish on the right.

The Beauty of Spontaneity

2008-11-09T21:22:00.002-05:00

Yesterday was one of those days that I just let the wind blow me from one great thing to the next. In the morning, I visited the Loberia, an isolated beach on San Cristobal Island where there's a rather large sea lion colony (obviously I loved it there). I spent an hour watching baby sea lions nurse from their mothers, attempt to swim in the surf, and play together along the volcanic rocks gathered on the beach.

Here I am with my sea lion friends

Around noon, I headed back to port to meet up with some local Galapaguaens to go snorkeling in Tijeretas, a cove on the southern part of the island. Armed with only a snorkel, mask and some fins (one of which ended up being broken..) I jumped into the cool water for about an hour of snorkeling in that beautiful cove. With the exception of sea lions lounging on rocks above the cove, all we really saw were fish (not much compared to all that I've been seeing in the water lately) but it was great nonetheless. After about 45 minutes, I felt the water starting to chill my body and decided it was time to get out. I had a spectacular look at Kicker Rock (pictured in an earlier post) and walked back to port again.

Feeling afternoon hunger tug at my stomach, I headed to a local cafe for some ice cream. There, I ran into another volunteer and two other locals who asked me within seconds if I wanted to 'go fishing and watch the sunset for free in five minutes.' A little confused, I asked if they were serious. They pointed to a boat approaching the pier and asked if my ice cream sandwich and I wanted to come. Slightly surprised at my flexibility and 'seizure of the day', (or rather the evening) I said 'Sure!' and hopped on board. We spent two hours out on the water, slowly circling the Five Fingers as two guys fished for albacore tuna and I watched the sun slowly sink toward the horizon.

The rewards of spontaneity, as seen on Monday, November 10 at the 'Five Fingers', a volcanic tuft cone off of coast of San Cristobal Island.

Rock the Vote: 2008 US Presidential election on a 'deserted' and somewhat disinterested island

2008-11-09T19:13:00.001-05:00

Before I took off for Ecuador, I did everything I could to ensure that I'd be a part of the political process, even if I would be on another continent on November 4. I arranged for an absentee ballot, checked and double checked that my request had gone through, and was very excited to receive the ballot via email in mid-October. I had suspected that receiving the ballot would be the hardest part; getting it back should be easy. Interestingly, the reverse was true. Who would have known that not all computers in Ecuador are outfitted with Adobe Reader or are capable of making pdfs, or that, to Morris County's discredit, the return email address provided by the county clerk would malfunction all of the times that I emailed my ballot in?

I didn't let the challenges slow me down, and I'm happy to report that I did vote in the 2008 election...by emailing, snail mailing, and telephoning my way to the ballot box. And like most Americans, on November 4 I was incredibly excited to hear the election results. Just as voting had been quite the challenge, finding out the election results was one too. I spent most of the day glued to a computer, catching up on election news, hoping to hear the results the second they began to come in. Unfortunately, that started at about 9 pm...just half an hour before every single internet cafe on the island closed down for the night. Despite my best attempts to interest the internet cafe workers in the American political process, my hopes were repeatedly shut down with the computers. I spent the late evening hours wandering around a sleeping port with two other volunteers (who weren't even Americans!) trying to find out who my new President was.

After an hour or so of walking around with my iPod touch searching for unsecured wireless signals, we stumbled upon the office of an electrical company. It was showing a locked wireless signal, but the lights were on inside and the door was open. It was 11 pm, and for some reason there was a man still at work...on a computer! Desperate for news, we peeked our heads inside and with broken Spanish asked if he could check cnn.com. I daresay he looked confused as to why we were so desperate to know the results that night, but recognizing our eagerness, he logged onto yahoo.com (of all news sites!), to reveal a homepage that said 'America's First Black President.' I will save my observations about the news title for now, but can report that I jumped up and down in that office, smiling, feeling like there was a new light turned on in the US that night.

Though it was one of my most exciting moments in the Galapagos, it was also one of my most homesick. I remember all of the fanfare that accompanied the 2004 election, and was really sad that I wasn't able to be a part of it in my own country, on the night of the election. The next morning as I watched Obama's acceptance speech on YouTube, I got even more homesick, knowing that I wouldn't be able to watch the news for every second of the excitement, but gigglingly satisfied at how I'd always remember searching for a computer and finding out from yahoo.com that Obama had won.

I was a bit surprised to find that more people didn't ask me about the election results in the days that followed. Several people did, but I didn't hear the port generally buzzing about it. I suppose it's true that Obama's election doesn't immediately and visibly touch the lives of people living in the Galapagos archipelago. I did have an interesting interaction with a waitor the other night, which made an unfortunate and disconcerting impact on me. It started when the waitors asked where I was from, and then proceeded to give me an unsolicited opinion of Barack Obama and the plethora of problems he thinks that the US has. (This on the week when I was feeling particularly proud to be an American.) He told me he didn't like Obama, because he didn't want a black man to be president. Think of all of the things I was ready to say back to this guy to this point. But for several reasons, I kept my mouth shut. Logistically, I didn't have enough Spanish to say what I wanted, so I had to let my eyes do the talking for me. Clearly no one had ever told this guy not to talk politics at the dinner table. Luckily, this interaction and opinion was the only one of its kind that I have encountered in Ecuador.

Bloodwork at Laboratorio Angelita

2008-11-01T19:09:00.001-04:00

Ever wondered what it's like to go to a hospital in 'the developing world' and exchange information about symptoms and diagnoses in a language that is foreign to you, when you're the one who is sick? Welcome to the past week of my life! Last Wednesday, after taking a brief afternoon nap, I woke up feeling chilled to the bone, so cold that no amount of long sleeve shirts and fleeces could seem to warm me up. I was achey all over, had the beginning of a headache and just was feeling terrible. Trying to shake it off, I got out of bed, but within an hour my body had reversed temperatures and become a small inferno. I spent the night curled up on my concrete floor unable to move, with a pounding headache, sweating buckets. Considering that I had just come from the Amazon about 10 days earlier, my fever immediately and unfortunately raised suspicions of malaria. I slept from 5:30 pm on Wednesday to 6 am on Thursday morning, feeling terrible the whole time.

The next morning the volunteer coordinator accompanied me into town. The ride from the reserve is an hour long, extremely bumpy, over pot-holed volcanic rock roads. For someone with a headache and achey body, it's a complete nightmare. I counted down the seconds until we'd arrive in town, wondering how this whole medical process in a foreign country would work. The volunteer coordinator was there to translate for me, but I still felt a bit uncomfortable knowing that I would not know what information was being relayed back to me that I couldn't understand. At the hospital, we presented my symptoms to a doctor (I spoke in English and the coordinator translated for me) and doctor ordered a blood test. (No one was saying anything but I knew what they both were thinking - malaria.) Because I had eaten that morning, the blood test had to wait until the following day. Though my symptoms were better I still felt pretty terrible - it was hard to walk because of the achey-ness and people kept giving me the How-do-you-feel-because-you-look-terrible look. Another night spent in bed, trying to recooperate, taking fever reducer medicine and drinking Gatorade and water for rehydration. Luckily the fever happened only once, and didn't return again after the episode on Wednesday night.

The morning of the blood test, I woke up at 6 am to look up key words that might be useful during the procedure and translate them into Spanish. Receiving medical treatment while here was certainly something that I realized was a possibility, but I never actually thought I would be getting blood drawn to see if I had malaria. When you travel alone, ultimately there's no one else to take care of you other than yourself. So I decided it was important to be as prepared as I could possibly be. Words like blood, syringe, iodine, antiseptic, insurance, are now permanent parts of my Spanish vocabulary.

The lab where I received my treatment is named 'Laboratorio Angelita.' The front of the building is painted aquamarine green, with the name written in fancy letters above the doorway (the entire entrance is like one big doorway). The lab is directly opposite the hospital, a large ranch style building which is painted sky blue. When I got to the lab I was greeted by a woman who had me sit in the entrance..essentially on the street. The procedure was faster and much more simple than I expected, and than it would ever be in the US. She took out a syringe (new and clean), took a vial of blood, and that was that. No band aid, just a cotton swab and I was finished. Just thirty dollars to test for a slew of things in my blood, and I could have the results on the weekend.

To make this long story a little shorter, I have felt fine since the test, and the official results showed "negativo" for malaria. But, I've decided that my sickness was a blessing in disguise. It provided me with a respite from work, after 6 weeks of hard, manual labor. I spent two days in port, watching the sea lions and reflecting on my experience to this point, I experienced a new, albeit a bit scary, part of traveling, and I tried something new - teaching English! Yesterday while I waited for the lab to open, I met a woman who works in a tour shop next to the 'Angelita'. We got to chatting, and within a few minutes she asked me to teach her some English. I have yet to actually try to give an English lesson here (normally I am too timid) but yesterday my Colgate Writing Center personality kicked into gear and for about 45 minutes I taught some pronunciation, verbs and the meaning of a few English phrases in the shop that the woman did not understand. It was a really cool experience - teaching English while I spoke mostly in Spanish - and I am excited to find other opportunities to do this for the rest of the time while I am here!

What's Next...2 Weeks more in the Galapagos, then back to the Amazon!

After my recent medical mystery, I have unfortunately not worked as many days on the reserve as I would have liked. But I suppose the sickness was a blessing in disguise - it forced me to slow down a bit during what was week 6 of intense manual labor and all sorts of challenges to overcome. At this point, I only have 3 days left of work on the reserve before I head out on a 4-day tour, followed by a week of relax and repose around the islands. Then I head back to the Amazon for a second stint at the reserve there. I've been communicating with the coordinators there about a grant project, so hopefully in addition to all of the usual projects, I will get to spearhead a fundraising effort in my final weeks at the reserve. Drawing confidence from my recent success with grant writing ($1100!) I hope that I will be able to pull something together for Jatun Sacha before I leave Ecuador.

In my next life, I'd like to be a Galapagos sea lion

2008-10-29T18:56:00.002-04:00

Last weekend, I went on a snorkel trip to Kicker Rock, Isla Lobos and Punta Pitt, all points on San Cristobal Island. To say that it was one of the coolest days of my life is a complete understatement!

At Kicker Rock, also called Leon Dormido (sleeping lion), as with all of our destinations that day, I was the first to jump in the water and get snorkeling. The biggest deterrent when you get ready for the jump is the temperature of the water, which despite the wetsuit, gives you a nice chill when it touches your body. I sat on the side of the boat, flippers hanging down, and plopped myself into the water. When you first feel the cold, you let out a peep, then bob about, kicking your legs so that you stay vertical for a minute or so. Once more people had entered the water, I put my face down, eventually following our tour guide into an area where the rock is sliced, so you snorkel in the 15 foot space between the two sides of the rock. The first thing to catch my eye was a green turtle, which was half floating, half swimming near the rock's edge. It was incredible to watch it at such close range (about 6 feet). It would propel itself with a stroke of its flippers, and then glide along in the water effortlessly, just like in Finding Nemo! We also saw Galapagos sharks while at Kicker Rock...
After lunch, our group headed to Isla Lobos, which was definitely my favorite part of the tour. This was the third time that we'd gotten into the water that day and the temperature was a particular shock this third time...I let out a yelp similar to that of a baby sea lion when I hit the water. It wasn't long after I jumped in that I spotted a sea turtle floating near by. There is something really thrilling about being the first in the group to spot something - it's as if all of the other people disappear and it's just you in the marine environment, no matter how naturally unsuited for it you may be. The turtle just went about swimming, and I went about watching, until a dark, sleek creature bubbled past me. The sea lions had arrived. I have seen TV shows, movies, documentaries with sea lions before and I've been in water with big marine mammals (dolphins) before, but nothing compares to swimming with Galapagos sea lions. In the water they play with each other, and investigate snorkelers, check out fish, communicate with each other and looked me literally in the eye, while playfully blowing bubbles in my face.

They are curious and playful, darting past you in a flurry of bubbles, twirling around beneath you and then speeding toward your face to look you in the eye before repeating the investigative process. My favorite moment was when one of the sea lions and I came face to face, literally eye to eye with me floating on my belly and the sea lion directly beneath me, rolled on its back. We (me and the sea lion) stayed in that position for what felt like a minute (probably 10 seconds or so) looking at each other as I felt like I might not just be a human and the sea lion might not just be a sea lion...we were just sort of there looking at each other. Obviously indescribable, but so, so cool. And, best of all, it was captured on film.

First Two Weeks in the Galapagos

2008-10-25T16:20:00.004-04:00

Hi everybody!

Hope you are all doing well, getting excited to vote soon! Beginning next Friday, I should have access to internet almost every day for 10 whole days (wow!) so I look forward to keeping up with world news for a while before I head back to the mainland to continue volunteering in the Amazon. This post is lengthy, so as usual, pick and choose what is most interesting to you. This time I wrote about arriving in the Galapagos, what it's like on this reserve, swimming with sea lions and other marine life, and my recent medical mystery... pick what sounds best!

Arriving in the Galapagos Islands
On Oct. 12th, I woke up at 6 am to head to the airport, westward bound, for the Galapagos. For one of the first times on this journey I took out my ipod for a listen while I waited, and was catapulted back to the Western world by my tunes. The swarms of Westerners in the airport, most of whom were outfitted in expensive outdoor gear also helped... Most of the times that I move from place to place here I am on high alert for anything suspicious. Not on my way to the Galapagos. In the airport's Galapagos terminal, I was surrounded by well dressed Ecuadorians bound for Guayaquil (the commercial center of the country), and American and British families and 70+ tour groups. The plane ride was easy; once on board, I realized I actually had no idea how long my flight was, so I waited in suspense until I felt the plane descend. The clouds whipped by my window, and the Pacific started to come into view. After paying my park fee in the airport, ($100 per person, yes it is as expensive here as they say), I was met by the volunteer coordinator and my hopes of immediately seeing sea lions were dashed as I was directed to a taxi and driven an hour up a mountain and into increasing cloud cover. As you'd expect of an island on the equator, the water color varies from a aqua to deep blue color, is absolutely beautiful, and the water washes up on volcanic rock and white sand beaches. Great, I know. But what makes the Galapagos Islands so interesting is that they were formed from volcanoes. When the magma from earth's core reached the cooler ocean water above, it crystallized into volcanic rock, and eventually formed the string of islands that make up the Galapagos. (Never have I been happier that I took Megageology while at Colgate!) The islands' relative isolation is what has led to the unique array of flora and fauna here. San Cristobal Island is particularly interesting because of its different zones, two of which are the arid zone by the coast, which has very little plant life (think cacti and volcanic rock; it looks sort of what you'd imagine the moon to look like) and the highland zone in which the reserve is located. Whereas the arid, coastal zone is constantly engulfed in sunshine, the highland zone (the highest point on the island) is constantly enshrouded in a cloud and has pretty frequent rainfall. Though being in the highlands certainly offers a different perspective of San Cristobal Island, and makes 'going to port' on the weekends that much more fun, it is definitely not your typical tourist's Galapagos.

Not Your Tourist's Galapagos
Off to work in the back of a pick-up truck, decked out in my turtleneck for sun and bug protection (face net is in my lap).For everyone who found out that I went to the Galapagos Islands for a month and turned green with envy, don't be too jealous yet (...only when I talk about how I swam with turtles and sea lions, haha!). In the highlands (where the reserve is) the ocean is distant, the sun doesn't shine often, it's cool enough to wear pants and long sleeve shirts, and the prevalence of the biting bugs makes it important to wear a face net pretty often. Don't get me wrong, like I said before, it provides an excellent opportunity to see the way life is in the Galapagos for people who actually live here. (Though unfortunately for the volunteers, I get the sense that the bugs really don't exist elsewhere in the island the way they do on the reserve.)

It's been really interesting to come to this reserve right after being in the Amazon. Just like two companies, the reserves operate a bit differently, and just like two families, the people here are from different backgrounds and interact differently than the group in the Amazon did. Facilities are also a bit different. The simple task of showering is even more a test of mental fortitude here than it was in the Amazon: here my shower water comes from a hose dangling overhead, which supplies cold, cold water! Bed nets are a must, and we have about 5 spiders who sleep with us every night, hopefully eating all of the other bugs! At the same time, we have a nice view of the ocean and the equivalent of a gourmet chef who cooks all of our meals.

Most of the volunteer activity in the Galapagos centers around removing invasive species from the island, and trying to plant more endemic species (those that are native to the island). The biggest problem is mora, a variety of blackberry bush. It was only introduced about 15 years ago, but is now literally growing everywhere, threatening endemic plant species. It is extremely annoying to remove -- first you machete it down, collect the cut up bits by hand (inevitably getting pricked by the thorns which line the stems), then hoe up the roots, which are strong and deep. On the days when I am lucky enough not to chop mora, I have gotten to roast coffee and do maintenance on the reserve's trails. The coffee plants on the reserve are left over from when the reserve was a farm, and are now basically growing wild and organically. The harvesting of the beans happens in December and January (the hard part of the process); after the beans are harvested, they are dried and the shell is peeled by hand so that just the bean remains. Then, the beans are slow roasted over hot coals; it takes about 25 minutes of stirring to get the beans to a dark brown color. (I always use my left arm to try to balance out the machete muscles I am getting on my right side!)

I have also helped maintain a trail on the reserve by machete-ing down vegetation and then hoe-ing steps into the earth, using sticks (that I machete'd myself!) to support the steps in the muddy ground. This was a pretty rewarding project because only 3 volunteers including myself worked on it, and after 4 hours of work we were able to see how much progress we had made -- turning an overgrown trail into an easily hike-able one! Yesterday we hiked to a volcanic rock beach to clean up trash that has been dumped by local (and probably non-local) fishing boats. I found everything from water bottle caps to seat cushion covers to a syringe (I didn't pick that up, don't worry).

In the jungle, you're a gringo; in the Galapagos, you're a tourist!
Heading out to the Amazon, I was surrounded by Ecuadorians from all parts of the country. Some were dressed in traditional wear, others sported city-like fashions; all stared at me in my jeans and t-shirt, with my gigantic backpack. Even more a dead give away than my backpack, though, was my skin color - I was a gringo. On my way to the Galapagos, I boarded a plane jammed with Westerners. I spotted French and Irish passports and several English faces, along with a few American backpackers. When the plane arrived at the airport, passengers weren't greeted with curious stares, but with signs and smiles, like 'Galapagos Explorer II Cruise. Welcome!'

'In Tena, the town closest to the Amazon Reserve, everything is communicated in Spanish -- store signs, menus, the cost of international phone calls. In the Galapagos, everything is communicated in both Spanish and English -- the Galapagos are tourist friendly because the people here depend on tourism for their livelihood. Aside from fishing, which I assume is an industry here, though I do not know how large, tourism is where it's at. It's really interesting to watch how transfers of money occur between gringos (or tourists) and Ecuadorians\Galapagaeans and speculate why the differences in relationships between these groups in each region of the country are the way that they are.

In addition to the large sums of money flowing to the island via tourism, I learned the other day that it is Ecuadorian law that in the Galapagos, employees of all professions are paid 75% more for a month's work than employees in the same professions on the mainland. This is thought to help with the increased prices on the islands, which result from transportation and importation costs. Because of this, I suspected that education systems on the islands would be significantly better than on the mainland. When I asked the volunteer coordinator about this, I was surprised to learn that the schools on San Cristobal Island don't teach environmental science to the children. This is stunning to me because of the emphasis that the national park places on conservation and the large amounts of money that flow to the island via not only the national park, but also the earnings law that I mentioned earlier

Some shots of port on San Cristobal Island and some of my new friends - blue footed boobies, a pelican, an iguana and a sea lion, and none of them photoshopped!

Jatun Sacha in Photos

2008-10-18T11:10:00.001-04:00

Marco, one of the Jatun Sacha leaders, with a tarantula.

On a forest walk with Milton, one of the forest guards, as he checks a hummingbird nest (the thing he's holding) for eggs. After checking it, he collects and marks the eggs and measures them, as part of a big project on hummingbirds in Ecuador that the reserve is doing.

Below, baby hummingbirds in a nest (in the second photo, look for each of their beaks on the left side of the nest). They breathe so quickly because they are so small. While we were looking at these, one of the parents was hovering nearby, checking to see what is going on. The nests are very well concealed, and almost all of the ones that we found were directly above the river, hanging on a vine.

Mindo: Land of Butterflies, Frogs, and Ziplines

2008-10-10T18:34:00.000-04:00

In a tram above the tree line in Mindo

I went to Mindo for a night last weekend with some of the other volunteers, as tourists instead of workers for once. We went ziplining, horse back riding, hiking through waterfalls and even to a "frog concert". It was nice to stop working for a weekend and to see some cool things in Ecuador. No time to write much more about Mindo now, but here are a bunch of pictures.

At the cascadas (waterfalls) around Mindo.

Green Dollars and Gringos

2008-10-09T18:51:00.005-04:00

An interesting thing about Ecuador is that the American dollar was recently adopted as the standard national currency here. I am not sure about all of you, but if the US suddenly adopted the national currency of another nation, when we had our own to begin with, I wouldn't be too happy. I think that is probably part of what makes such a distinction between Ecuadorians, or Latin Americans in general, and 'gringos.'

I have heard a couple possibilities for the origin of the word 'gringo' which apparently comes from 'green go home': the first is a military reference and the second is an economic reference. This is the first time I have really been part of the minority group in a foreign country, which has provided some interesting experiences vis-a-vis making friends with locals and seeing how the volunteers and regular staff at Jatun Sacha interact. There exists a friendly but somewhat strange dynamic between the two groups - sometimes everyone eats all together, sometimes the tables are divided between volunteers and staff. Sometimes everyone goes to the bar together and sometimes we don't. Speaking of the bar, and getting to paying for things, there are always differences in prices for Ecuadorians and for gringos, or foreigners. Whether it comes to airline tickets to the Galapagos ($400 for foreigners, much less for Ecuadorians), national park fees, or even beer ($1.25 for foreigners, $1 for locals) there are big financial distinctions everywhere.

Farther into the Jungle - the nueva cabana

2008-10-08T17:19:00.001-04:00

No Electricity, Composting Toilets and Baths in a River: the nueva cabanaOne of the things that all of the volunteers have to do is go to the new cabana, which is located on the opposite side of the Jatun Sacha reserve from where the big building I already described is. It is about a 3 hour hike up and down mountains to get to the new cabana and you have to take all of your clothes, food and sleeping material for an entire week so the bag is not exactly light as you walk. Completing that walk is probably one of the most gratifying things that I have actually ever done in my life! A real physical and mental test of whether you can keep going to make it home.

Above is a picture of the new cabana that I stayed in last week. No electricity, in the middle of the jungle, with primary forest to one side, and secondary forest to the other. This cabin is meant to provide a place for forest rangers and volunteers to stay and to ward off illegal loggers and poachers, etc. As you can see, there is no electricity, and you are looking at the kitchen.

The new cabin itself was cool. I was there with 3 of the guardabosques (forest guards, or park rangers), and two other volunteers. The forest guards are pretty incredible people. It is a big deal to be a forest guard here, and there are only 4 of them for Jatun Sacha. One of them is named Don Gabriel (Don is the title for a respected male elder) and he is literally one of the coolest people I have ever met. He only speaks Spanish but when he speaks it is like he is speaking English, it is the strangest thing. He is the leader of his community (a community is basically a big family, and boy does he have one - 8 kids, each of whom also have 8 kids, so there are about 64 of them in the same community). I have placed him as being between 50 and 60 years old, and he hikes around the forest all day long, with his machete in hand, and can work in the organic garden for twice as long as the young volunteers can, in the boiling sun. On one of our days at the new cabin, we did a forest hike with Don Gabriel - the first time I have really seen the primary part of the rainforest from within. At first, the forest seemed like a dense mess of trees and plants, not at all like how it is depicted in movies (specifically I am thinking of Fern Gully..). But, on the forest walk with Don Gabriel everything seemed to jump out at me - all of the different species of plants and flowers and insects. He can spot a grasshopper from like 20 meters away and knows everything about all of the plants in the forest and what they can be used for. The forest walk with him helped me get in touch with why I decided to come here (because to be honest, early on in this trip .... in fact, for the first 10 days or so ... I was getting pretty overwhelmed and confused with my current situation). Anyway, I feel like I learned a whole lot from that walk and have a new understanding of what it means to walk through the forest, grow up in it, and just why it is worth preserving.

The title pretty much describes the rest of the aspects of the new cabin - we had no electricity, ate by candlelight each night, took baths in the river in our bathing suits, and went to the bathroom in a composting toilet. I won't go into detail but I would really prefer not to repeat that experience ever again, ahah! Overall, it was a good trip though.

The river, and bathtub at the new cabana. Nearby, residents collect drinking water, which is why it's so important to use eco-friendly, non-phosphate soaps when we bathe here.

Above, one of the butterflies that flies around the reserve. This is actually one of the more 'boring' ones if you can say that...lots of them are green, blue, red, etc. Hard to take pictures of though because they seem to always be on the move.

Bringing Water to People Who Need It

2008-10-07T17:23:00.007-04:00

One of the more interesting aspects of watching how Jatun Sacha operates is seeing the organization's interaction with local Quichua communities. Quichua communities are indigenous communities that speak Quichua, a language brought to the area by the Inca Empire a long, long time ago. The communities live essentially out of the forest, growing their food on the land, using the rivers for water and transport, trees for dugout canoes (an entire canoe dug out of one tree), etc. They are simultaneously isolated from 'mainstream' culture, but being influenced by it more and more as time goes along. One of Jatun Sacha's goals is to work with the local people to teach sustainable agriculture practices and help the local children learn English so that there is less of a disconnect between the modern world and the Quichua communities. In an effort to accomplish that goal, Jatun Sacha has been trying to match volunteers with weekly projects in the community. Until yesterday, none of those projects have actually happened because of the unavailability of a canoe to transport volunteers across the river (upstream) to the community. Hopefully this illustrates just how isolated this community is - you can get there by car (when one is around..) but even that would take about 2 hours of traveling.

Yesterday, the project to dig irrigation lanes to help a community bring river water to their village finally came through. Two by two, the volunteers were paddled across the Napo River, upstream, in a dugout canoe by a single paddler. I went in the canoe with an American guy named Thad, who is a junior at Haverford. He is a funny guy, and when we got in the canoe causing it to 'sink' about 3 inches above water level, I knew that we were going to have a hilarious and entertaining ride. We sure did. I couldn't believe we didn't sink!

Once across the river, Thad and I decided to get walking rather than wait for the rest of the group to cross. With about 12 total volunteers, and 10 minutes per pair of transport time, we calculated that we'd be waiting 2 hours for everyone to cross if we sat patiently. So instead of doing that, I set out on an adventure to locate the community and get to work. Basically, we bushwacked (yes, bushwacked) our way through the vegetation near the river to an area of cleared land where an entire family of about 10 people was working a farm. (This was another one of those moments when I grinned to myself and thought Am I really here doing this right now?) Thad asked how to find the community that was working on the irrigation project and the father of the family offered to have his daughter (who looked about 8 years old!) walk us to where the community was. He spoke Spanish, so I gathered that we were walking 800 meters, ascending a montagne and then walking "more" until we came to the community. After following the little girl for about 20 minutes, we arrived at the beginning of a trench in the middle of a community. The entire village seemed deserted, so we all we could do was follow the trench.. Shortly after we continued walking, we heard the sounds of tools breaking up dirt and people rushing around chattering together and before long we came upon the entire community at work. The women were carrying around a white liquid in metal bowls to the men, who were hard at work with spades, shovels and pick axes, all in an effort to dig a trench about 12 inches deep and 12 inches wide, for the irrigation tubes. We were graciously welcomed by the men, who introduced themselves, and the women, who offered us sips of the white milky drink. Knowing that it's never proper to turn down a gift, I took a sip and found that the white milky stuff tasted disgusting with a capital D!!! I later found out that it's fermented yucca milk (yucca is like a sweet potato). You make it by chewing yucca, spitting it out, adding water, letting it sit for a few hours, and then straining the chewed yucca out of the bowl. When it ferments, turns a bit alcoholic (maybe that's why the working men were guzzling the stuff!). We were drinking it at eight thirty in the morning.

Talk about hard work. Digging into wet, clay-ish ground, to create a ditch is really difficult! The tools are heavy, and not always the most efficient; sometimes I found myself using my hands to clear dirt out of the ditch rather than the heavy shovels. There was something about getting my hands in the dirt that was pretty cool. Sometimes I feel like it's man (or woman, in my case) versus wild, and it's really a toss up as to who will win! Usually it ends in a tie...with a project complete, my body completely exhausted from the process and my psyche encouraged by what I am capable of doing if I put my mind to it. This work was absolutely the hardest, but also the most rewarding we have done yet. Working alongside community members was really cool, and being with all of the volunteers at once on a single project (not like the work we usually do in groups of 3 or 4) was incredible as well. The common goal and motivation of the group was almost palpable, and after we finished, everyone applauded and the community cooked us a traditional Ecuadorian lunch which we ate with our hands on palm leaves. Really, really great day.

Misahualli and Human-like Primates

2008-10-06T17:33:00.002-04:00

The bridge to Misahualli

This past weekend we went to Misahualli, a small touristy town that is about 20 minutes from the reserve. The main attraction in Misahualli is to feed the monkeys that run around the main plaza of the town. You go to a little shop, buy eggs or an onion and then the feeding begins. This has gone on for so long that the monkeys can basically spot tourists with eggs and are very aware of what you have to offer them. At the same time, they are very aware that many tourists make them work for the eggs, so they check you out, and have an almost suspicious look on their faces as you approach, as if they are saying 'I see what you've got and I'm not a first timer, and I am not going to play games with you to get that egg. Hand it over or I am going to come steal it from you.'

In addition to the obvious attitude they monkeys have, they look strangely human. (I know we are all primates, but I expected to recognize more of a difference between the monkeys and the people I was feeding them with!) They fight with each other over the eggs that tourists give them, and look grouchy when they are teased or lured in one direction or another by tourists. I was super excited to feed them at first, but when it came down to actually offering my hand to them, I got so nervous! I had to make sure that I got a video of it (posted on the blog) so everyone could I see that I actually did it! Basically I stood stiff, my legs basically shaking, as the monkey (whom I was told was named Patricia) checked me out to make sure I wasn't going to do anything sneaky. We leaned into each other several times, but I was too afraid to hold my hand close to the ground, so Patricia decided a few times that she was going to give up on me and forget the egg. Eventually I leaned down far enough for her to grab the egg from my hands and that was that. She scampered up the tree, cracked the yet, let the gooey part slip through the crack and then tipped the egg back to drink the yolk that remained. Smart little guys those monkeys are!

Feeding monkeys in Misahualli. I was afraid to feed them because they look so much like humans and seem to have personalities too! We bought eggs for 10 cents and then fed the much-feed monkeys.

After being so afraid of these monkeys on my first visit, a few weeks later I returned, feeling obviously more comfortable.

More Sights and Sounds of Ecuador

2008-10-06T16:48:00.004-04:00

So, my first two weeks (plus a few days) in Ecuador are complete! I could write a novel about everything that has happened so far, which is what this blog is for...,but as you can see if you've tried to check it, I don't update often because of the utter lack of internet here. In an effort to keep you in the loop, here are a bunch of paragraph observations of the first two weeks. They have titles so you can read what you think is interesting (there is a lot here) and skip the rest!

For the photo (and video) supplements, see the following post! I apologize in advance for grammatical and typing errors - I had to do this quickly!

The path that I take to get to my cabin

Jungle Walks - My Favorite Part of Jatun Sacha
One of my favorite things to do here has been to walk in the jungle with the forest guides. They know everything about the forest and even with my extremely broken Spanish, I feel like I learn so much from being with them. I mentioned that I would like to do another forest walk to the volunteer coordinator the other day and was pleasantly surprised when he told me that I could walk en bosque (in the forest) that day! This time I went with one of the guides that I hadn't met yet. His name is Gato, and, like most of the other forest guard, has been a guardabosque for his entire life. He's a bit mysterious looking...his nickname translates to 'cat' afterall...and I was a little nervous I would be up for a rough and tumble day in the jungle. As it turned out, we had a great, leisurely walk through the forest, and stopped often to look at different insects, butterflies, ants, flowers, you name it. The two highlights were a unique morning activity by the river, and lunch time. After about an hour of walking, Gato said it was time for a break, and we sat down by the river for some water and a snack. While another volunteer and I relaxed, Gato kept walking around the river, bending down and picking up rocks, examining them and then keeping some while tossing others away. After gathering a colorful collection of river stones, he began mashing them up on his machete, carefully adding droplets of water to each colorful pile. I watched him and he worked, wondering what was in store for us, and about 10 minutes later he looked up and said in Spanish, 'So, who wants their face painted?' I laughed at his silly it was -- here I am in the Amazon, about to get my face painted so I can walk around the rest of the day with art on my cheeks. (You can see the finished product in pictures on the blog). Very cool moment and great afternoon--walking around eating ants that taste like lemon, watching hummingbirds hover at eye level about a meter away, and eating lunch on a palm leaf (no plates that day).

Face painting in the jungle.

The machete was the palate, with paint made from stones we found in the river and mashed up with water. This happened early in the day and then we walked around for the rest of the afternoon like this. Other highlights were eating ants (yes I did that for real) that tasted like lemon, and seeing a hummingbird hover about a meter away from my face as my forest guide (Gato) whistled bird calls to make it fly closer.

The signature frog of Jatun Sacha, which is also the colors of Ecuador - red, blue and yellow. Very cool to see!

Daily Life: Kitchen Duty and Bed Nets
I think I mentioned in my earlier email that sometimes I feel like this is the sleep away summer camp that I never went to as a kid. We live in cabins, doubles with 2 people in each one, have kitchen duty, and shower in communal spaces. One of the things that is really interesting is the 'anything goes' attitude that people seem to have. When you eat, sleep, bathe and use the bathroom all next to each other, there has to be a certain amount of willingness to push aside embarrassment and shyness aside. That has been one of the most interesting things to observe here too, because it's almost like no one even acknowledges that most of us are not used to this type of close living in our normal lives. It's just like once you are here, you adapt immediately.

Kitchen duty is a particularly exciting event. When you get it, you have to get up at 5:30 am to help make breakfast, which is served at 6:30 am every morning, and then help with lunch and dinner. Everything is collected\chopped\etc. by hand. Last week I made french fries for about 20 people from probably over 50 potatoes. Peeled, cut and cooked them all. It was actually pretty gratifying. Then, after everyone eats, you wash and dry all of the dishes by hand. I will let you infer all of the lessons and thoughts I have had during my days with kitchen duty.

Up Next: Galapagos Islands
Today I left the Jatun Sacha Reserve to travel back to Quito. Tomorrow I catch a flight to the Galapagos Islands for part 2 of my Ecuador Adventure. I will be on the Jatun Sacha San Cristobal Reserve in the highlands of the Galapagos for at least 3 weeks (I am deciding where to spend the rest of my time in Ecuador depending on how these two reserves compare to each other).

I was actually pretty sad to leave the Amazon Reserve today. There is such a great group of people there, and after digging the irrigation lines yesterday with the whole group of volunteers was a really great way to cap off the experience. The Galapagos will certainly be a different experience, and I am sure that I will have a lot to write within the first few days. Internet once a week there as well, so keep an eye out for the updates and in the meantime, send me yours!

Arrival at Jatun Sacha

2008-10-03T17:14:00.003-04:00

Arrival at Jatun Sacha

Forgive me for any time that I have used the token phrase that Colgate is 'in the middle of nowhere.' It isn't. Jatun Sacha, on the other hand, is. The station is literally in the middle of the jungle and is composed of one main building, in which everyone eats and hangs out after work (in 4 hammocks which are great, even if they smell a little sweaty) along with about 10 cabins which each house 2 people. About 50 feet from the main building is the bathroom, which, thankfully, has flush toilets, and running water (albeit cold). There are no telephones, no internet, and no television. The electricity is really just used for lighting and cooking..mostly carbohydrates like potatoes, corn, yucca (a white sweet potato).

Anyway, back to the setting. There are some gravel paths that lead from one building to another, and all of the paths are surrounded by forest. I think that the forest immediately near the station is secondary, which means that it is less dense because it is forest growth that has come in after the primary rainforest was cut down. Butterflies flit around along the paths, and insects make all kinds of noises at night. In general, the bugs are sooo much larger in the rainforest than at home. The butterflies are huge, and the grasshoppers, which are also huge, are everywhere. That is one of the cooler things about being at the station. Except for when the spiders appear at nighttime! The biting insects and I were actually not really acquainted until I had been here for a week. I thought I was just lucky at first, but in the past few days the bugs have discovered I am in town and they are taking every opportunity to cash in on the 'food' I apparently have to offer.

The people are the reserve are very nice..mostly German actually, but I feel like I meet Germans everywhere so it isn't really a problem..all in all they are nice and fun. So it is mostly Spanish and German being spoken every night, even though I have pretty much found ways to avoid Spanish whenever possible. My knowledge of Italian is helpful as I suspected it would be in terms of understanding Spanish. However, when it comes time to speak back to anyone, I stumble through words that I don't know how to pronounce, and usually end up speaking Italian, hoping that someone will understand me! Forget Spanglish - I am a Spatalian speaker, haha. The people at the reserve laugh at me in a nice way...though they do occasionally say things quickly (I think) in an attempt to hide whatever they are saying from the volunteers!

I have made friends with a British girl named Vishna, who has already spent 3 months here and teaches at the local school, a guy named Thad who is from N.C. and goes to Haverford University in PA, plus a German named Willi (pronounced Villi), who mixes up w and v all of the time so that words like 'vegetables' end up sounding like 'wedge-tubbles'. Considering how easy I laugh at things, this provides nearly endless entertainment on a daily basis.

Learning How to Use a Machete in 3 minutes or less
Yup you read that correctly - machete. That is what I did on my first day of work! After my tour of the reserve, I was placed with two other, male, volunteers to clear paths that had been covered by fallen trees. Much of what the reserve does is maintain a botanical garden and organic garden in an effort to teach local communities about all of the natural resources that are here and why it's important to preserve them.
So, on the first day, I chopped down trees with a machete and an ax. No instructions were given prior to my first attempts at swinging these objects, but I eventually figured it out. It is literally back breaking work. I think that within the first week here I lost about 5 pounds and my arms already feel like I could beat several of you in an arm wrestle, haha!

Other work that I have done so far includes organic farming, in which all of the work is done by hand because there is (you guessed it...) no electricity. I have also collected leaves to rub out the leaf fibers to make rope, and string to make 'handicrafts' like necklaces and bracelets, etc. In Ecuador, you aren't cool if you don't wear some sort of jewelry crafted on leaf fiber and seeds.

Jungle Fashion

Considering the meager amount of shampoo and condition that I brought with me here, and the lack of any serious conditioning or curling hair products, my hair is in a constant state of frizziness, which really makes me feel like a 'Chica Tarzan' as they say here. My attire consists of the junkiest shirts that I own, apart from one Banana Republic t-shirt that I brought for 'nights out'...(those nights out usually mean an hour or two with the other volunteers at the bar\hut down the street that serves beer for about 75 cents). Baggy t-shirts from various worldwide destinations are the norm, along with a pair of big rain boots, which do a wonderful job of keeping out mud, bugs, and various other things. I really am quite a sight if I do say so myself. I feel like a 12 year old at summer camp! The other day I bought some earrings made from seeds (for just a dollar!) and wore them last night to make myself feel a little more like a 22 year old girl. It's the small things at this point I guess!

On the walk back to the reserve from the 'new cabana'. Notice my attire and attractive jungle hair-do, and the machete! This walk through the jungle took about 3 hours, all with a pack on my back! This walk made me consider climbing one of the volcanoes here!...just kidding

Jugo, and other things Ecuadorian

Jugo (juice) is huge in Ecuador and is always so good! Sometimes I can't even recognize the taste of whatever juice I have because it has come from a fruit I've never seen before. My favorite so far is melon, but so far I have also had pineapple, passion fruit, in addition to the unrecognizables.

Trash is pretty interesting here too. I am on a biological reserve in Ecuador that buys powdered milk and chocolate in plastic bags, buys butter in plastic tubs, grows tree seedlings in plastic, etc. Plastic, plastic, plastic. Even though I am on a biological reserve, what happens to all of this plastic when people are finished with it? It goes into a hole in the ground, otherwise known as a landfill. I don't know about all of you, but I have never actually seen first hand where trash goes once it leaves my garbage can. Well here, I have been able to do that. Just a few hundred feet from the main area of the reserve is a big whole in the ground, about the size of a household swimming pool, and probably much deeper than that, where all of that used plastic goes. This is the first time I have seen something like this in real life, and I know that if everyone saw it in person, we would all use SO much less than we do. It was literally sad to see the a forest with butterflies and insects flying around, and right in the middle of it is a whole for garbage. Really - Think about filling up a glass of water from the tap instead of buying a water bottle, buying milk in a glass jug instead of a plastic one, bringing your own bags to the grocery store next time you go shopping...the list goes on and on.

What's up Next

I am at the Jatun Sacha reserve in the jungle until October 10, when I go back to Quito to fly to the Galapagos on Oct 12. Write me messages with new things that you are up to -- I really, really have loved the emails I have gotten so far!

Getting Started in Ecuador: 7 hour bus ride out into the jungle

2008-10-01T15:15:00.005-04:00

First Impressions of Quito
Where do I even start with my first impressions of Quito?? Like I wrote in my last email, flying through the Andes was pretty cool. We flew from one mountain over another and another, each time we dipped into a new valley I thought that it would be time to land. We flew like that for about 10 minutes though - which gave me ample time to realize what a big, spread out city Quito is. With a population of about 1.4 million, it's pretty big, and from the air, and from the ground, it looks like the definition of urban sprawl.

On the ground the story isn't much different. Ecuador is the first developing country that I have visited, and arriving here from the US tri-state area kind of sent me into shock. I don't think any description or picture would really do it justice. The only way that I can explain it is that it looks like this place was once thriving and is now sort of just in decay. There are lots of cars, no traffic guidelines, it feels kind of dirty, and unfortunately kind of unsafe, especially at night. Luckily when I first got here I met a nice German girl traveling by herself and I was able to spend my first few days with her to get used to the city. Still, when it finally came time to leave I was very, very ready to head to the jungle. Between the general feeling of the city, and the effect that the high altitude had on me (shortness of breath and shaky hands), the departure was a welcome one.

Bussing it Out to the Jungle
About a month before I left for Ecuador I read an article in the NY Times about the bus system in Ecuador - about how effective and extensive it is, and about how many different types of food you can eat on a single bus ride through the 'avenue of the volcanoes.' In my Lonely Planet guide book I also read about how overwhelming the bus station can feel and how the buses are notorious for thieves and bumpy rides. I can now say from personal experience that all of the above is true. The ride was bumpy, for sure, especially once we got out of the city and started the descent into the jungle. The bumps were accompanied mostly by two things of note: vistas of what seemed like never ending forests as far as the eye could see, and loud music. Musical highlights were Spanish salsa and, my favorite, Broadway or 80s tunes (think Footloose music, and 'I need a hero'). We stopped occasionally along the way to pick up people standing on the side of the road, who hopped on the bus to sell various foods (all of which I was too afraid to eat), or to drop people off in villages that were mostly composed of unfinished houses with laundry hanging off of the porches to dry.

After leaving Quito, the bus went directly to Tena, which is supposedly a tourist center, but to me, looked more like another decaying city - dirt roads, half built buildings and houses, and people all over the place. From Tena, I boarded an extremely hot, extremely crowded bus out to the Jatun Sacha reserve. It took about 40 minutes, I sat next to a woman who spoke Quichua (the language of indigenous people in Ecuador) and we exchanged brief friendly words and smiles until I arrived at the station. A long journey, but I made it out to the jungle!

Above: One of the volcanoes along the "Avenue of Volcanoes" that the bus takes on the way to the Jatun Sacha reserve. Usually it is covered in clouds, so this was a lucky shot!

Hello from Ecuador!

2008-09-14T21:00:00.002-04:00

Hello everyone!

I hope that this message finds you well and in good spirits wherever you may be in the world! As most of you already know, rather than heading straight to the working world, I've decided to spend the majority of my first year out of Colgate as a volunteer. My goal is to contribute to positive change as I learn about people and parts of the world I've never seen (or noticed) before.

I'm writing to let you know that the first leg of the international part of my plan has begun! Today I arrived in Ecuador to begin an 8-week commitment as a volunteer with the Jatun Sacha Foundation. (If you thought I was leaving last Monday, you're right. My flight was cancelled and plans had to be rearranged, but now I'm ready to go.) The Jatun Sacha Foundation (www.jatunsacha.org) is a non-governmental, non-profit organization which manages biological reserves in Ecuador. As a volunteer, I'll be helping with the conservation effort in the Amazon and on an island in the Galapagos. My backpack is packed mostly with work clothes, which will be worn over and over..and over again during those 8 weeks, bug spray, a digital camera and a Spanish phrasebook, and of course a positive outlook and willingness to work are tucked into my back pocket. This is certainly already a new, different and challenging experience. Flying in today was pretty incredible - straight through the Andes Mtns. and then driving to my hostel with someone who didn't speak English was another experience to say the least. I have already met a few other "gringos" which is fun, but I am pretty excited to get out to the reserve, see the rainforest and get to work!

I know for sure that I won't have the same access to communication that I do here, so it's unlikely that I'll be able to write personal emails or responses as often as I'd like. I've started a blog (https://taylorbuonocore.blogspot.com) that you can check for weekly (I hope!) updates. It's already got some more details about my decision and what I'll be doing for the next year. You can even comment on my posts if you feel so inclined! Each of you are an important part of my life, and I want to make sure that we're able to stay in touch while I'm away, so please write me messages with your own updates as often as you can.

Thanks for all of your encouragement throughout this process. Wish me luck, and I'll talk to you soon!
- Taylor