I have arrived in Tanzania! I'm alive! The difficulty of getting internet in one of the largest cities in the country is truly amazing. I arrived late Tuesday night after about 28 hours of traveling solo from San Francisco - Seattle - Amsterdam - and finally, Kilimanjaro to the Arusha hostel Centre House. I saw two sunrises (on the way to San Francisco and one in the air over Greenland) that day and visited what I can only imagine is the best airport in the world. (The Dutch really know how to do it - meditation center, massage clinic, Rembrandt museum, massive toblerones - all in an airport.) In Arusha, I met up with three volunteers- Emma and Lori, hilarious girls from UCLA, and Chenxing, a particularly sharp and spicy Stanford volunteer. After fighting off particularly villainous winged cockroaches, the four of us slept under mosquito nets, getting up every couple hours to use the bathroom thanks to our body clocks that had yet to catch up with our rapid intercontinental travel. The next day, after a British breakfast of toast and tea, we braved the Arusha market to buy colorful kangas, traditional skirts with intricate patterns and Swahili sayings on the back. I must say I'm getting used to wearing my clothes loose and comfy, and might have to cut down on the tight jeans when I get back (much to my mother's delight, I'm sure).

There is far too much pollution here; smog runs the city as it runs so many others of the developing world. Familiar third world smells - food, sewage, exhaust, and the occasional whif of body odor - combine into a perfume that, above all, reminds me of the uphill struggle to advance/ develop/ improve. Peanut vendors and small electronics stands line the sidewalk. The children, while mostly vibrant, curious, playful, and absolutely beautiful, are what get to me. The "streetchildren," as they're called, sniff glue to keep their bodies warm and thier minds off of their crippling hunger.

SAFARI for two days was absolutely indescribable. Led by Komba, a national-park-ranger-turned-safari-guide who stalked desired animals with frightening precision, we spent the first day at Manyara National Park and the second at Ngorongoro Crater. We spent most of our two days standing up through the roof of the jeep with the wind in our hair, searching for tembo (elephants, our favorite) and convincing each other of the reality of our present situation. Only pictures can do this experience justice - coming soon.

We then spent a week at Camartec, a defunct sustainable development site from the late sixties. After a daily breakfast of bread and butter, a hardboiled egg, and the strongest ginger tea I've ever whiffed, we spent the whole day (8am-5pm) learning the basics of public health and HIV biology. We managed to charter a fleet of taxis last night and head out to reggae night at Maasai Camp, one of the few local nocturnal hangouts in Arusha. After a markedly different yet refreshingly familiar veggie burger, we danced to reggae from a blown speaker system with dozens of wazungu rastas and ex-pats. The emcee decided to repeat "The pahtay is just getting stahted" about two dozen times before a troupe of four male African gymnasts finally came onstage. Emma and I narrowly escaped the fire juggler who simply was not on his game. The rest of the night was mostly spent inside, the entire group of us together around a hookah (which I passed on, parents, dont' worry) and taking college-y pictures, reveling in our temporary access to electricity and ample toilet paper in the bathrooms. The perennial SIC staff often comments on the cohesiveness of our group and our apparently unusual proclivity for socializing and enjoying ourselves. Good thing.

The tribunal for the Rwandan genocide is being held in Arusha - which both thrills me and terrifies me at the same time. Adam, one of the Tanzanian teaching partners (who are all AWESOME by the way) has a connection and has offered to help us get in. Not only are criminals tried at the tribunal, but Rwandans affected by the genocide are invited to speak their piece. I'm aware of the inevitable connection to the situation in Darfur and the irony that the same heinous crimes are being committed in one country while being renounced in another.

Anyway, we're using "squatties" (in the words of an older British woman on safari), speaking a hybrid of Swahili and English (Swagrish? nothing flows quite like "Spanglish"), and jumping through countless hoops to get as many scarce vegetables in our diets as we can. Tomorrow, we move to our rural towns in groups of six and continue with another week of orientation. Finally, we teach. And teach. And teach... for the remaining six weeks. And I can't wait.

Of course I miss home, family, friends, crepes, etc, but I couldn't be happier with how I've chosen to spend my summer.

Feel free to call or text my cell phone here (I think it's a couple of bucks for you in the states, so choose info wisely! But I would love me some PR results - LG girls, you know what I mean) at 011 255 786 120 248.
I can also get mail (though it'll take a few weeks) at:
PO Box 15024
Arusha
Tanzania
East Africa

Love to all and sponging it up,
Ruth