Am I becoming soft? The last couple days have suddenly caused me to question this very notion as I travel among the backpacker early twenty-something crowd. Not feeling so much older as just... er... well-seasoned? At least people are still surprised when I tell them I'm 28. Fake it 'til I make it.
My time here in Tanzania has been partially frustrating, partially awe-inspiring, partially just a treat away from the working world. The trip began with three days at the Karibu Trade and Tourism Fair--a pretty low-end (in terms of snooty tour operators' standards) travel fair where different companies related to travel in the area come to network/sell/learn about products and related services. Much of the fair was a bit boring, sitting at a table within the Rwandan booth (our company has an office in Kigali as well,) but it was broken up by entertaining bouts of traditional dancing from four Rwandese students. One boy in particular had the most mesmerizing smile I have seen-- it undulated pure joy. Every time I looked at him, I became happy. It was the most incredible thing--his bliss was contagious.
People wandering around the fair, agents, operators and tourists alike, were drawn to the graceful and vibrant dancing from these kids... and we tabled our wares in the interim.
My lack of Swahili was repeatedly (and sometimes antagonistically challenged) as certain arrogant men sternly repeated themselves louder and louder, as if somehow I could snap out of English and magically speak fluent Swahili back if they just forced it out of me. I am still mixed up days later, but now respond in like form to the greetings of Jambo/Mambo/Karibu Sana from everyone I meet.
I am typing this post poolside from the hotel I stayed at for a few days during the fair. My childhood friend arrives soon from Moshi, and we'll spend the rest of my trip together. Life is good!! Even when it's momentarily bad. I'm running out of time here, but have lots to share about the last couple days, where I ventured into the wild with my ridiculous, cheetah-spotted carry-on luggage for camping, a bit of "roughing it," butchering Swahili greetings and replies, meeting some interesting people and getting so close to a lion I could have easily pet its back. I visited Lake Manyara and Ngorongoro Crater with a group of four others, then seven, as two joined us for day two in the crater. Our driver, nicknamed China, apparently because he knows some tae kwon do, even though it's a Japanese sport was an interesting sort. On each side of his neck sat an elongated growth that looked something like a triangular, pointy fingernail growing from a small spot of skin. I tried to focus on his face when talking to him, but my eyes frequently wandered southward, thinking "what the hell are those?!?" I never did find out.
Britt's here! Will tell you more when I am in front of a computer again.
My time here in Tanzania has been partially frustrating, partially awe-inspiring, partially just a treat away from the working world. The trip began with three days at the Karibu Trade and Tourism Fair--a pretty low-end (in terms of snooty tour operators' standards) travel fair where different companies related to travel in the area come to network/sell/learn about products and related services. Much of the fair was a bit boring, sitting at a table within the Rwandan booth (our company has an office in Kigali as well,) but it was broken up by entertaining bouts of traditional dancing from four Rwandese students. One boy in particular had the most mesmerizing smile I have seen-- it undulated pure joy. Every time I looked at him, I became happy. It was the most incredible thing--his bliss was contagious.
People wandering around the fair, agents, operators and tourists alike, were drawn to the graceful and vibrant dancing from these kids... and we tabled our wares in the interim.
My lack of Swahili was repeatedly (and sometimes antagonistically challenged) as certain arrogant men sternly repeated themselves louder and louder, as if somehow I could snap out of English and magically speak fluent Swahili back if they just forced it out of me. I am still mixed up days later, but now respond in like form to the greetings of Jambo/Mambo/Karibu Sana from everyone I meet.
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| Nice! |
I am typing this post poolside from the hotel I stayed at for a few days during the fair. My childhood friend arrives soon from Moshi, and we'll spend the rest of my trip together. Life is good!! Even when it's momentarily bad. I'm running out of time here, but have lots to share about the last couple days, where I ventured into the wild with my ridiculous, cheetah-spotted carry-on luggage for camping, a bit of "roughing it," butchering Swahili greetings and replies, meeting some interesting people and getting so close to a lion I could have easily pet its back. I visited Lake Manyara and Ngorongoro Crater with a group of four others, then seven, as two joined us for day two in the crater. Our driver, nicknamed China, apparently because he knows some tae kwon do, even though it's a Japanese sport was an interesting sort. On each side of his neck sat an elongated growth that looked something like a triangular, pointy fingernail growing from a small spot of skin. I tried to focus on his face when talking to him, but my eyes frequently wandered southward, thinking "what the hell are those?!?" I never did find out.
Britt's here! Will tell you more when I am in front of a computer again.
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