The next chapter

They say that as one door closes, another one opens. Boy does that ring true for me at the moment.

I was supposed to be meeting my boyfriend David in Thailand for a quick break over Christmas before heading back to the real world. For weeks we've been exclaiming how we wish we could share the last leg of my African adventure together, but in the end we always realised that the 'real world' makes this very difficult.

HOWEVER... somehow the stars aligned for us in the past few days, and David has managed to get leave from work and join me two weeks early!! We meet on Saturday in Dar es Salaam, and from there we'll do an overland safari together and arrive in Dubai just in time to celebrate his birthday. And of course, then Phuket for some sun and relaxation remains on the agenda for 16 days over Christmas!

I am absolutely over the moon. This wonderful man set me free to find my feet in Africa, and now he is not only about to welcome me home with open arms but also to join me so that we can forge our own adventure together!!!

Goodbye little friends

I said goodbye to my babies yesterday. The day started out okay - I was frantic with last minute preparations for my trip to Zanzibar and onwards, and had to go into town to collect money for my trip in the morning. So it was all a mad crazy rush.

I eventually arrived for my last shift in the newborn nursery and was thinking to myself that with all the preparations to distract me, it wasn't as difficult as I was worried it would be. That all changed about 10 minutes before the end of my shift. I was nursing baby Nancy, and looked up and saw what time it was and all of a sudden, there was a torrential flood of all of my emotions from the last 3 months. I thought about all the little faces I have come to know and love, the smell of clean, soft baby hair, the feel of a warm, tiny body in my arms. When would I next experience such a beautiful moment?? I was a complete wreck. I managed to compose myself just enough so that the nanny on duty didn't see the crazy weeping Aussie woman sniffling into an infant's hair (which smelt like Johnson's Baby, and set me off even further!).

Saying goodbye to the munchkins in the 'big house' (the bigger babies, from 4 months to 2 years) was even worse. I actually felt my heart break when I saw Rosie sitting in her little swing chair. If it's even possible, she was MORE delightful and chirpy than usual and gave me suuuuch a big cuddle. I had her fat little arms in my hands and I thought about how they would look a year, 5 years, 10 years from now. Eventually I had to let her go, and she started HOWLING and crawling after me as fast as her little body could carry her. The thought of leaving her behind still makes me sick to the stomach.

As we got in the cab to go to the airport, Mama Musa assembled the toddlers (Julie's little class) in the window to bid us farewell, and it was poignant and painful.

I'm in Zanzibar now and have had a little time to reflect since my departure. It WAS heartbreaking to say goodbye to those children (particularly those little ones who had an extra special place in my heart). And my stay at the baby home for the past 3 months has done wonders for my sense of perspective, my health (mental AND physical) and general outlook towards my future. But, a truth I realised was that I personally couldn't have stayed a day longer. Three months at the home and far from my own family and friends with the innumerable daily frustrations to send me bonkers was JUST enough, or I may quite possibly have gone mad.

I am comforted that Davona, the director of the baby home will continue to do an amazing, courageous and inspirational job and student missionaries and volunteers will continue to come to the home, to help fill the childrens' lives with love and joy.

Finally, (a few) pictures!!!

This is the best I could do before the internet gave up on me. A few pictures from the last couple of weeks.

From top: Mum and I in the newborn nursery with babies Hidaya (5 weeks) and Nancy (12 weeks); Cuddling my beautiful sponsor child Margareth; Lazaro, our cheeky little masai baby playing in the new pool; and all of the toddlers playing happily together.

The grumpy looking cutie at the front of the final picture is Hope, Lazaro's twin sister. Hope and I became lifelong friends when I nursed her after a big fall. I sung Sinead OÇonnor (nothing compares!) and she fell asleep on my chest, listening to the vibration of my voice. Ever since, she regularly climbs into my lap and places her head on my chest, with her thumb in her mouth, in anticipation of more Sinead. And every time I sing to her, she falls asleep in my arms. Possibly the only person I will ever meet who actually finds my Sinead rendition SOOTHING (either that, or passing out is the only way she can live through the sound of a dying cat) ;-)

The home stretch

I have just 10 days left at the baby home.

Sometimes I can't wait to leave. Living with 7 volunteers in the volunteer apartment is sending me bonkers. I miss boyfriend like mad. I have been craving a meal at Montezumas with my sister, and the long wonderful chats that we have. I am so looking forward to having a fresh start in Brisbane in 2010, with renewed energy that I haven't felt for a very, very long time. I get homesick when I hear that all of my special friends are spending time together without me, or see facebook updates of all the roller derby adventures I'm missing!

But my chest tightens when I think about leaving my special friend Rosie. Far out. I would happily change her filthy stinky squelching nappy every single day (without wet wipes!!!) in exchange for her cuddles, and her smile, and her cheeky little chuckle.

I can only pray that her family is able to provide her with a worry-free childhood with enough food, shelter and love to see her reach her full potential. Of course I wish this for every child...but somehow my little monkey Rosie has clawed her way into my heart, and it will be very very hard to let her go!!!!

(Baby, all I want for Christmas, is you!!!!)

Greed, slothfulness and poverty

I am at a loss as to how to describe the last few days of mum's visit. I am so moved by our experience that my head is still buzzing.

Mum, Janelle and I visited the families of a number of sponsor children who are supported by several Brisbane schools and families. The sponsorship money pays the children's school fees, which includes books, uniforms, and meals during school time. The sponsors were so excited for me to be visiting their kids that they loaded me up with the most wonderful presents to deliver to the children, and we set off for a day of meeting and greeting.

Despite living in extreme poverty, with barely enough money to put food on the table, these children are the most happy, well behaved, delightful little munchkins you could ever hope to meet. They LOVE school, and work so so so hard to better their education. I fell in love with the families of every single child we visited, and walked away from each home with a broken heart that I could not be of more help to them. I would think:

"Moses' family must leave their home - a one room shack- to a smaller place because they cannot afford the rent...but the annual rent probably isn't more than a few hundred dollars for the whole year, if that! I should just offer to pay their rent, considering that I have been known to spend that amount on a [insert expletive here] splurge in Brisbane in just one night!"

But then we would arrive at the next house, where Hemedi's mother lives (also in a one room shack) with her own 4 children, plus 4 of her sibling's children- none of whom can afford to go to school, and I think:

"Why don't I just sponsor the eldest boy to go to school so that they have more than one child getting an education???"

Seven families later, and I've mentally spent my whole salary...and I realise that while you can make a difference to ONE family, there are so so so so so many special people who are fighting for their survival, and it is impossible to help them all.

But then I put mum on the plane yesterday morning and then went to the lodge in my lunch break so that I could have some quiet time to process everything we'd seen. I was lying on my sun bed in my bikini like a fat lazy toad with a cappuccino (the cost of which could probably feed one of those families for a week), and I thought to myself.... "You greedy, disgusting wanka [pardon my French]. Your whole life is full of so much luxury, and waste, and slothfulness-even here in Africa!!!" It is such an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. Sometime's it's true what they say "ignorance is bliss"!

In saying that, our visit was not in vain. I had the privilege of meeting my sponsor child for the first time, and let me tell you - she is even cuter in real life than in the photos I have seen!!! She is five years old and is just the chirpiest little angel. And she's a CHILD GENIUS (she takes after her Aussie mum! ;-)). I'm going back next week to play with her :-) We were also able spend time with the families and children so that we can return to Australia armed with information about the sponsorships, to fortify the commitment of all of the Australian sponsors who have been such tremendous support to these children for the past 4 years.

Bugger!!!

The internet's bloody useless again today. I've got some beautiful photos of our new arrival, Amani - a little boy who is 3 weeks old and weighs about 2kg; the toddlers playing in their new baby pool; our growing tribe of sponsor children (in particular, my own angelic, beautiful, cheeky, happy little sponsor child Margareth, who I met for the first time this week); and Mum, Janelle and I carrying on like tourists in the traditional dresses that our friend made for us.

Alas, I must wait for faster connection :-(. Watch this space.....

Nanna and Nonna visit the brood

Having mum and Janelle at the baby home this week had a really interesting effect on me. The most valuable contribution they brought with them (in addition to the mountains of nappies, toys, clothes, dvds and even a dvd player!!) was the many many wonderful ideas for great activities to do with the toddlers. They gave also Mama Ju some really helpful feedback for making the nursery school a little less hectic for her.

However, seeing their reaction to the mayhem that is mealtime and changing time brought back memories of just how traumatic the first few weeks here were for me. All of a sudden the screaming children, dirty faces, and stinky nappies were distressing to me again, as I was looking at the situation from fresh eyes.

The reality is that we work in one of the best orphanages in Africa. The babies are well loved, well fed, and for the most part very well adjusted. But obviously it is not possible for a handful of nannies and volunteers to give 30 children the same level of care that you could offer your own baby in your own home.

Back at home, I used to gag if I was present in the same room as someone changing a disposable diaper. You think that's bad?? Try changing a cloth nappy which is drenching wet, with poo seeping up the baby's back because it's been squelching around in there for a good hour. It's particularly bad when the babies are fed dark brown malted porridge for breakfast (by God, it's BAD!). Then you finally take the ripe, stinky nappy off the baby and find that there are no wet wipes. So you have to use the outside of the dirty nappy to wipe the excess poo off, then you have to use a clean rag to tidy them up properly. More often than not I sneak the babies under the tap and give their bottoms a good wash. But the nannies get stroppy about this cos it takes up too much time, and there is already a queue of 10 other stinky, ripe, squelching nappies to change!!!!!!!!

I'm getting used to it now (in fact, the first moment I really fell for Rosie was when she had a disgusting stinky nappy on, and when I went to change her she refused to lie down, and then grabbed my arms with a vice-like grip and started dancing naked on the change table with a big grin on her face and did ANOTHER big poo!!!! I thought 'this stinky kid's got character!') - but imagine mum and Nelly's reaction the first time the squelching babies climbed into their lap for a cuddle!! ;-)

Anyway, I apologise for giving far too much information...but it's very very difficult to describe the daily scene of chaos without being a bit vulgar from time to time. Despite the chaos, mum and Nelly each fell for many little munchkins and had a great time with the babies singing, dancing, nursing and feeding! Though they did remark that they would go insane after just 2 days of the madness, let alone 3 months like Mama Rebecca has put herself through!!!!!

HOOORAYYYY- I've got my MUMMY!!!!

Mum arrived in Arusha two days ago and heralded the return of my sanity (well, what sanity there was to begin with anyway!)!! WOOHOOOOOOO!!!!! I collected mum and her friend Janelle from the airport on Friday morning and haven't stopped yapping away since. It's so nice to have visitors, I can't explain what came over me- it's like having exciting new toys!!

Yesterday I introduced them to my babies and we ate lunch at my local haunt. Today Janelle went on her own safari and I spent the day with mum being a tommy tourist visiting curio shops and the masaai markets, eating an ENORMOUS meal of a whole fried fish, fried marinated pork and chapati at a local restaurant, and finished with a few cocktails at a nearby cinema complex. The cocktails were a treat not only for me but also for mum...she's been living in Jinan, China for 18 months and has been finding the luxuries that are accessible to me here in Tanzania quite eye-opening and exciting. Mum has to travel 3 hours on a fast-train to find a cappucino, whereas I can just take a walk through the bush to the nearest safari lodge!!

The rest of the week will be spent visiting our sponspor children at the local school, more time with the babies (of course!) eating out at all the restaurants in town that I've had my eye on but haven't had the chance to go to, and on Friday we might be doing a camel safari.

To be perfectly honest I'd be content if all we did was sit around the hotel spending time together. I'm SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO happy to have my mama sharing my adventure. The only downer is that my sister couldn't make it. I am really really missing her this week. I will need to check on my Rosie in due course though, so will make sure that Jess comes back with me next time I visit Tanzania!

Home again, home again, Jiggety Jig

So I'm back now in Arusha, battling a stock-standard dose of post-holiday blues. Mum thought it was funny that I should be having post holiday blues WHILST on holiday - but as she said, it's all relative!!

The rainy season has just commenced. Yesterday in my desperation to leave the compound during my lunch break I stubbornly ignored the brewing storm clouds and traipsed over to 'the lodge' for a cappuccino. 5 minutes later I was stuck under the tropical umbrella by the pool in the middle of a storm. Once the rain subsided I had to slip'n'slide through huge fields of mud on the way home. Oops!!

With the rain, it seems the children have all had a growth spurt!! I arrived home from Zanzibar to find that Lawassa now has two teeth, where previously there were none; Dello can roll onto his belly and is trying very hard to crawl; the triplets Anja, Nina and Tessa can now crawl; and Rosie is HUGE with an extra tooth, and is strutting around using every available surface to support herself in her quest to walk alone. And I was only away for 5 days!!

Pictured: Me and my munchkins (Rueben, Musa and Lawassa). Work ain't so bad when you come home to this!! :-)

Yesu, Asante! ('Thank you Jesus!')

I almost died in Zanzibar. Perhaps that's a bit dramatic, but I'm telling you, I would skydive naked a thousand times before reliving this particular experience.

The dala dalas on the island are a little different to the minivans in Arusha. Similar to those in Koh Samui, or Bali (so I have heard) they are converted pickup trucks, with bench seats running along either side of the tray, with a tin canopy.

Dala dalas are inherently dangerous, overcrowded and fast. Every journey is a risk ('volenti non fit injuria' for all you law nerds out there!!).

A short distance outside of Stone Town, about a sixth of the way into our journey back to our beach bungalow, the dala dala stopped by the side of the road to collect an additional passenger. I queried how on earth the driver possibly expected to cram another body onto the already overcrowded pickup, when I spied the passenger's cargo.

As the main source of transport, the passengers generally load all their worldly possessions onto the truck. Our new passenger wanted to take some bricks. Large concrete bessabricks. After loading about 5 bricks onto the truck, I looked over to see Julie looking skeptically at the thin tin ceiling. 20 minutes later, while the dala dala was rocking dangerously in the direction of the ditch on which it was perched, and with the tin ceiling dipping increasingly lower under the weight of the bricks, I wasn't sure whether the 'thump, thump, thump' was my heart, or the bricks that were STILL being loaded. Mama Ju was white-knuckled. I told her I wanted to get off. I said that as soon as the dala dala took off it would roll into the ditch and we would die.

Julie and I were squished in as far back from the entrance of the dala dala as it was possible to get - so in the event that the truck rolled, there was no way out. One of the boys from Mustapha's place (Julie's loverboy Dula actually!), who happened to be on the same dala dala as us, told us to just wait. 'Subiri, subiri'. I said 'NO SUBIRI. I don't want to die, it's gonna ROLLLLLLL!' and then frantically scrambled over bodies and possessions to get off the blasted truck (in the process, staying as far to one side as possible so as not to be the straw that broke the camel's back and roll the dala dala into oblivion myself). A few seconds later, Julie also emerged from the truck. Followed by Dula, who clearly thought that the stupid mzungus needed supervision!!

The dala dala situation was even worse than I thought. The bricks were piled about 1.5metres high, and covered the entire roof of the dala dala. The dala dala was visibly rocking. I swear the bricks would have weighed more than the truck itself. I could see NO POSSIBLE WAY that it could take off without rolling and killing everyone. I prayed that the people left on the dala dala would see sense and get off, or that the dala dala driver would see sense and remove the bricks.

We walked a short distance in the direction of the next bus stop, until Dula flagged down a mate who was passing by, who said he could drop us at the bus stop. I turned back towards the dala and was grateful to see half the busload of people getting out. Not only was I pleased for them, but it also validated my little panicked scramble out of the vehicle!!!!

I have seen refrigerators piled onto the top. I can live with refrigerators. I have shared a dala dala with chickens. Chickens? Piece of cake. Even large bundles of firewood I can handle. Concrete bessabricks on the other hand, I am NOT okay with.

We waited at the next bus stop for over an hour, and never saw the dala dala pass by. I could only pray that it was because the police stopped it before harm came to anyone, and not because it had already met a horrible fate. At that time of afternoon, all the dala dalas from town were full and had no room for us. Mustapha's place had no available drivers to collect us, so after our near death ordeal, our trip home took us a further 3 hours, with a combination of walking and hitching (with Dula's help). We arrived back just after dark, bought Dula a beer for taking us under his wing, and toasted ourselves a long life, free of bessabricks!

The following day we were walking along the beach and were greeted by two men, who said that they were on the same dala dala the day before. They told us that most of the passengers disembarked in terror (probably not helped by the strange muzungu making wild gestures of the dala dala rolling and killing everyone!!), and the dala dala eventually took off, WITH the bricks, and without rolling.

Yesu, ASANTE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Zanzibar: Poa kuchizi cama ndizi! ('Cool like a banana!')

I cannot describe how wonderful our trip to Zanzibar was. It was just the escape Mama Ju and I needed to manage the last 4 weeks of the volunteer and Arusha experience.

I have never felt so at home in another country as I did in Zanzibar. The locals were SO friendly, and were interested only in having a friendly chat (compared with Arusha, where the constant hustle and bustle from tourist touts can be overwhelming!!!). The beach where we stayed, Bwejuu, was straight off a postcard. Loong stretches of white sandy beach, with coconut palms dotting the coast. Even on overcast days the ocean was an iridescent turquoise colour. Urgh - I sound so cliche...but seriously, the place was PARADISE!!!

Our first accommodation was Mustapha's Nest - which was just like walking on to the set of gilligan's island!! Despite the laid back rasta atmosphere and friendly staff at Mustapha's, on day three we moved into the bungalows next door, which offered hot water in the showers, and sunbeds on the beach.

We spent a day in stone town, a beautiful ancient city with winding arabian alleyways and a bright blue bay filled with fishing dhows. The ride home to the beach where we were staying was more terrifying than my waterfall adventure, but that deserves its own post!!! The rest of our trip we spent taking long walks along the beach, lying prostrate like basted turkeys in the sunshine, too many kilimanjaro beers at the local rasta bars, African dishes cooked for us by our new friends from Mustaphas (despite losing our business, they invited us back to hang out with them every day!!), and enjoying the most glorious sunset I could ever have the privilege of watching.

And of course, no holiday is complete without a summer romance. Mama Ju bewitched a local chef, a rastafarian muslim (I know, that's a bit of an oxymoron, isn't it!) by the name of Dula. He declared his love for her and asked her to meet his family. I have been having a chuckle at Mama Ju's expense ever since.

We're both going back again for a week at the end of November. Our friend Omi from Mustapha's has offered to take us swimming with the dolphins, and another woman, Perninna has invited me to a rasta party on a Friday night. I cannot wait!!




Pictured: The beautiful beaches; our friends enjoying the sunset; African bushwoman helping her new mates cook dinner; kev the kangaroo, hangin' with the boys; Mama Ju and I with Dula and Omi, emerging from a pub.

The curious case of Mama Ju's malaria

A few days before we departed for Zanzibar, Mama Ju had a panic attack. She had a fever, and other symptoms of malaria, and was convinced that she was having a relapse. She was stressed because she didn't understand why her body was getting such a ravaging, and she didn't want to ride out the rest of her African experience stuck in bed. I told her that it was the panic attack that was making her sick, and her fever was just from the hot weather.

Just to be safe, she set off to the local clinic to get tested. A hysterical Mama Ju told me she had again (for the third time!) tested positive for malaria. She was angry that her treatment had not knocked it over, and we decided to go to Arusha to the Selian clinic - western style hospital recommended by other ex pats living here. We thought that Selian may be able to provide stronger medication to get it out of her system once and for all.

Curiously, the Selian's laboratory sent back a result confirming that there was NO malaria. When we asked the doctor how they could have two different results in the same day, he said that it is not uncommon for the local clinics (with dispensaries attached) to send back false positive results in order to sell more of their medication. He said that after the drugs that Mama Ju took following the first two bouts of malaria, it was almost clinically impossible for the parasite to have manifested itself again in such a short period of time. He told her that the symptoms she was experiencing were more likely due to the malarial toxins being released from her liver- but that malaria was most definitely not in her blood.

How bizarre. In good news, Mama Ju was again in perfect health just in the nick of time for our beach escape!!!

Arrivals and departures

Twin boys arrived in the newborn nursery about 2 weeks ago. They have been named Peter and Eric. On arrival they were 10 days old, and weighed 5 pounds. They were SO tiny, and they still had that layer of protective womb coating that babies have, that looks like sunburn peeling (I apologise- I do not know the scientific name of it...in fact, I never knew of such a womb coating before asking Mama Ju why their whole bodies were peeling)!

Eric and Peter's story breaks my heart and makes my blood boil. Their mother suffers severe intellectual and physical disabilities. She can walk, with difficulty, but cannot talk and her non- verbal communication is extremely limited. The point being, she clearly does not have capacity to consent to sexual intercourse, and has obviously been molested. The family said they do not know who the father is - though I suspect it would be someone known to them, because she did not appear to have the strength to venture far from their house.

The plan is that the boys will stay at the baby home until they're 2 years old and on solid foods and then their aunt will care for them.

The arrival of Eric and Peter made for a very busy newborn nursery - 6 babies under 3 months old. Eric, Peter and another little girl named Hidaya, who is 4 weeks old require feeding every hour or two - so the volunteers commenced overnight shifts in the nursery. I did a triple nursery shift before Zanzibar, to make up for having a week off (ie worked from 5pm til 8am on Thursday night and Friday night, and 8am til 12pm on Saturday). Sleep deprivation and what felt like thousands of hungry mouths to feed. I have the TINIEST glimpse now of what the early days of motherhood must feel like!

In the same week that Eric and Peter arrived, our star pupil Martin went home with his new mum. He is 2 years old, and the smartest little boy I have EVER met. His mother, Caroline is a wonderful woman too, and Martini (that is what he calls himself!) is going to have such a fantastic life. She's a human rights lawyer, working as an advocate for the United Nations. Martini will be travelling with her to the Congo, France, Holland, and New York. It was sad to see him go (Mama Ju was heartbroken, because Martini was her favourite baby!) but I'm SO SO SO happy to see him with such a wonderful person. Martini and Caroline are both so lucky to have each other.


Pictured: Peter and Eric in the newborn nursery (it's a sterile environment, and we wear hospital scrubs and slippers); Martini in a jumper that Davo's mum knitted :-)

Don't go chasin' waterfalls...

The week before Mama Ju and I escaped to Zanzibar, Annemart and I took a day trip to Moshi. We set off on a local bus, crammed in with too many people for a two hour trip to what proved to be possibly the most boring town on Earth.

The point of the expedition was to visit a hospital with a view to finding Annemart another volunteer job. The hospital was a series of huts, with hundreds of people waiting in the sun to be seen to. we left shortly after our arrival, as the matron informed us that we were not welcome without a letter of introduction.

After the hospital we considered visiting a shanty town - but were told that it was ONCE a shanty town, but it has now been yuppified. We spent an hour on the internet (there was seriously NOTHING TO DO!!!), ate lunch in a local restaurant and had a soda outside a grocery store. Just as I was proposing that we leave before I died of boredom, we were greeted by a man Annemart had once spoken to in Arusha. Apparently he was also at the go-carting, but I didn't recognise him. Joe offered to take us to see a beautiful waterfall about 20 minutes drive out of town. All he asked of us was that we pay for the petrol.

All my alarms went off. Last time I visited an African waterfall my mother and I were mugged by 2 men wielding a shotgun and a machete. Not to mention that Annemart didn't even remember this guy's NAME, and we had never heard of the bloody waterfall that he spoke of. I told Annemart I wasn't too keen to go with him and his mate, Phil, but she goaded me on and said that I may as well stay in bed all day if I'm going to be such a terminal bore, and that besides, we didn't spend 2 hours on a bus just to sit around drinking soda.

Chastened, I reluctantly agreed to go along. Driving off into the countryside, I cursed myself for: a.) not bringing my Combivir (emergency anti-HIV medication in the unlikely event of a sexual assault) b.) not having the guts to stand up to a 20 year old Dutch monkey, and c.) being such a bore in the first place.

2 hours later, and approaching sunset (not 20 minutes as promised!) we were driving along a dusty mountain path that was barely wide enough to accommodate the Suzuki we were in - with a cliff wall on one side and a steep drop down a mountain ravine on the other. All this with loud hardcore rap music blaring in the background, to which my Dutch monkey was bopping along without a care in the world.

Epic story cut slightly shorter, we made it safely to the waterfall. And yes, it was stunning, complete with rainbows. We also survived free of rape, robbery and death by ravine. I didn't take any photos of the stupid thing, because I told our guides I didn't have a camera (lest they steal it from me - YES... I AM A BIG WUSS!!!!!) and insisted that we leave after 10 minutes, because I knew that we had a treacherous return journey back to Moshi, and I didn't want to tackle the cliff face after dark.

Joe and Phil turned out to be lovely, and yes, I'd hang out with them again. But that day I learned several valuable lessons:

- Say no to peer pressure, it's not worth 4 hours of nail biting panic, and sometimes even the most beautiful destinations are not worth the journey!!
- I AM a boring sod, and happy to remain that way, if it means listening to my instincts (no, we didn't come to harm...but I took an unnecessary risk against my better judgement, and I am very mad with myself about that!).

Warning: do not read while operating heavy machinery!

I haven't had internet access for awhile, so I need to upload a few posts at once. A word of warning...they may be verbose!

A naughty treat

Mama Ju and I are going to Zanzibar next week. NEXT WEEK!!!!! Cannot believe it is upon us already.

As if that's not enough of something to look forward to, we also decided it was high time to escape 'the compound' for a bit, and booked ourselves in to a hotel in town to wind down and live on our own schedule for 24 short, sweet hours.

Annemart, Julie and I spent the evening watching the soccer world cup qualifier between Russia and Germany in the Greek Club (I know, I can hear you thinking 'wow, that's SO african!!). I had two cocktails and a cider and was well and truly merry. After a diet of unprocessed food and no alcohol my tolerance for alcohol ain't what it used to be!!! Luckily, the hotel was right across the road and Annemart dropped us there in her taxi on her way home.

This morning we had a delicious breakfast and a leisurely stroll from the hotel into town...it was just the treat I needed (well, WANTED!!).

What am I here for?

The most difficult part of living at the baby home (for such a short period of time) is that I know now that for me, it is a completely selfish experience. When I'm feeling lonely, or stir crazy, or done with the trials and tribulations of living with 6 other women, I seek solace from the children and feel happy, buoyant and at home.

But then I feel remorseful for taking so much from them and being able to give very little in return. Sure, they get short term love and attention - but after I leave (in particular - after they reach 2 or 3 years old and can no longer stay at the baby home), who knows what will become of them? These little kids live in such a happy and loving environment at the moment, but their future is uncertain.

One of the toddlers was taken home by his uncle the other day and I keep wondering what his new house is like, whether anyone plays with him, what he is eating, how often he will be bathed, whether they can even give him nappies or if he just has to wear dirty pants. His father works in Kenya so Ibrahim will be staying with the uncle. Does the uncle love him?? Two other toddler twins - Hope and Lazaro leave this month too. They are returning to their Masai tribe. I'm comforted by the fact that they have each other, and will be attended to by an entire village, but the initial culture shock for them will be enormous.

I don't even begin to imagine what will happen to Rosie, Lawassa and Dello. That hurts far too much. I feel sick to my core that those babies have given me SO MUCH and I will remember the impact they made on me for the rest of my life. They have made my life better, but their own future is uncertain, and there is very little I can do to change that in any meaningful way.

So I'm torn - I'm afraid to leave them, but I also wonder whether I have made any difference to begin with.

A dark and stormy night (literally and figuratively!)

Last night was the most chaotic time I have every experienced in the playroom. Julie and I were the only volunteers working because everyone else had the day off, and the power cut out during dinner (for some reason, the generators didn't kick in).

I don't know if it was the lack of power or the fact that it was POURING with rain outside - but the children were ALL screaming. All 30 of them.

The usual routine is that the volunteers take the babies from their high chairs to the playroom after dinner and entertain them while the nannies feed the tiny ones, and then bath the children (each nanny is responsible for 5 kids). When Julie and I had the last child in the playroom we just looked around dumbstruck and then shouted over the pouring rain and screaming babies 'THERE IS NOTHING WE CAN DO HERE!!!'.

I plonked down on the ground, defeated. Rosie, Lawassa, and a little boy called Rueben spotted me, momentarily stopped screaming and literally RACED towards me across the room on their hands and knees, and came skidding to a halt on my legs. I had them under control, provided I had them all on my lap, and separated from each other. The second any of them touched each other, or any part of their body made contact with the ground, the screaming re-commenced. Mama Ju had a similar situation on the other side of the room.

When we finally prised ourselves away from the children at 6pm (that was TRAUMATIC!) and made our way outside, we were greeted by Lazaro, Rahma and Clinton, three little toddlers who had somehow escaped the darkness of the baby home and decided to go for a swim. Covered in mud, shivering, but blissfully happy- they were splashing around in a drain that was waist deep full of water. Though I was mortified about what may have been if no-one spotted them, I was trying to suppress my laughter at their resourcefulness. They were the only happy babies in the entire orphanage!!!

Go-carting photos

See my post re go-carting below, for photos which I have now been able to upload :-)

The thing about monkeys...

The problem with falling in love with little monkeys is that it's impossible to get a nice family portrait!!!

These shots are of Lawassa, Rosie, Dello and I. Mayhem.

Baby's first tooth

I couldn't be more proud. Rosie just got her first tooth!!! Far out, she is TOO TOO cute. Please excuse her dirty face, she'd just finished breakfast and was waiting for her bath.

No indemnity clauses here!

Wow, the go-carting adventure was just the injection I needed!!

Annemart and I took off on a dala dala to our destination - all we knew was that we had to go "2km past Kisongo" (Kisongo is a village outside of Arusha). We were dropped on the side of the road in the middle of the bush. All we could see was dust, a small tent, 3 go-karts/dune buggies and a bunch of very relaxed Africans. We were greeted by Eric, a half Finnish, half Tanzanian man who closely resembled Lenny Kravitz. Annemart privately nicknamed him 'Stoney Maloney', because if he was any more laid back he might be dead. Haha! He was accompanied by an American woman who also looked like she'd been chilling under the tent for a loooong loooong time.

There were a few other Tanzanian men, who Stoney told us were employed to look after the go carts. They were all merrily drinking Konyagi - Tanzanian gin. They offered some to us too, but we thought that it probably wasn't a good idea. There was also a group of filthy, dusty children playing in the dirt under the tent. When we asked where they came from, Stoney Maloney responded 'dunno, they never speak to us, but they come here every day!'.

Stoney told us that the RULES say we must wear a helmet and seatbelt...but 'don't worry...i don't mind if you take them off'. HA. A risk management specialist, not even the helmet and seatbelt eased my nerves!! These go-carts looked like they'd been around the traps.

Anyway we spent 20 minutes bouncing around the desert - a terrifying ordeal but lots and lots of fun. The landscape was seriously just like the moon! I was so frightened that in the really loose dust our carts would roll and we'd wind up dead. But watching the footage later, we were going SOOOOO slowly!!!!

Afterwards Stoney and his cronies had moved on to beer...he offered us a ride to the dala dala stand. It vaguely occurred to me that if you drink and drive you're a bloody idiot...but then I also remembered that noone wears seatbelts, we cram into the dala dala with up to 28 people at a time, and sometimes we see trucks piled high with produce and human beings alike. A few gins and beer weren't much worse!!

Stoney dropped us at the dala dala stop and enthusiastically invited us to join him for a drink one night in town. I don't think they get many visitors ;-)

Mama Ju missed out on the expedition, as she's STILL recovering from Malaria. When I showed her the pictures and told her all about the colourful characters we met she insisted that we all go back there one day, spend a few hours under the tent and then join our new friends in town later for a nightcap.

Sounds good to me!!

PS description of the pictures: Gocarting x 2; Stoney Maloney in front of the 'office' - you can see his mates and the children in the background; Annemart and I afterwards - if you look at the enlarged photo you can see that my face is COVERED in dust (i lost the race) and in the background you can see two masais sitting in the dust watching the proceedings.

McMania v3.0

The last few days have left me with an overwhelming feeling of boredom and frustration. I don't know if it's because I have just booked flights and accommodation for a safari, Zanzibar, trip to Dubai and to Phuket and therefore the wait for my next adventure seems excruciating, or if it's because I have a very bad dose of cabin fever. I'm thinking it's the latter.

Yesterday I was so irritable and grumpy...I literally COULD NOT remember ever liking it at the orphanage. I knew I was being irrational, because I could remember previously remarking to people about what a good time I was having. But I was SO over it that I wanted to wear earplugs and take off to a silent meditation retreat so that I could just be alone with my thoughts and not see or hear another living being.

The idea of working in the newborn nursery in the afternoon made me want to cry, because the looooong looong hours with nothing to do but change nappies and feed the screaming babies felt akin to torture (when just last week I was thinking what a wonderful experience it was to work in the newborn nursery, bathing and nursing the sweet, innocent babies!).

The other volunteers were a bit taken aback when at dinner time I announced that I was going to bed early and didn't want to eat the communal meal. Why? I SAID because I wasn't hungry. But in reality the thought of hearing another single word from any of the six other women I'm sharing the house with made me want to scream!

Crazy lady!!!

Anyway, I should count myself lucky that I lasted so long without going a little nutty. On the up side I'm feeling a little more composed today (or at least I acknowledge now that the concept of Rebecca McMahon attending a MEDITATION retreat where there is NO TALKING is a little on the crazy side!).

This afternoon Annemart and I are going 'go-karting'. Precisely what that means, where it is, or what sort of safety measures are in place is beyond me because the flyer we found is a little vague. What I do know is that it'll be a fun way to let off steam, and I am DESPERATE for such an opportunity!! Bring it on!

Patriotism in many shapes and sizes

I've been laughing at Mama Ju, because every time we see a banner or bumper sticker honouring Barack Obama (there are a surprising number of them about the place!) she insists that we stop and photograph it. She then sighs wistfully and says 'I love my president'.

A few days ago, Kayla - another American volunteer living in our apartment, presented each of us with a miniature national flag for our respective countries of origin that she had made for us, to put on our bedroom doors. So our house is now full of German, American, Australian, and Dutch flags. I jokingly said 'trust a yank to make a flag'. To which Annemart (the dutch volunteer, who had earlier suggested that each Sunday we assemble outside our bedrooms in front of the flag to sing our national anthems) responded 'Rebecca, you are worse than everyone...you brought an inflatable kangaroo with you. And what about at Mama Asia's house - you saw her kangaroo earrings and starting pointing and yelling "KANGAROOS - that's my COUNTRY!!!!"'.

Okay, she has a point. In my defence, Kev the inflatable kangaroo was a parting gift from Davo. And he has brought much joy and companionship to the household.

But as for the episode at Mama Asia's salon - when did I become such a bogan?? I don't even particularly LIKE kangaroos, unless they're served rare with a rich delicious sauce and a side of garlic mash. But I guess we all get a bit patriotic when we're so far from home.

Only in Africa...

Only in Africa, would an airline that takes the lives of thousands of people into its hands each day by flying them across the country, NOT have the technology to allow for internet bookings.

Only in Africa would that same airline not have the technology to accept payment by credit card at its local office.

Only in Africa would the ATMs impose a daily withdrawal limit of $400 when the flights (which, may I gently remind you, must be paid in CASH in PERSON at the office) cost $600.

Oh dear. The daily challenges. I guess that means that by Monday I will have made enough trips to the ATMS to afford a flight to Zanzibar.

Only to be told that the flight I want is now fully booked ;-)

Is he going to call????

A few weeks ago I made friends with Mr Chas, a teacher at the local school that I walk through to get to the pool. Last week he invited me for breakfast with the other teachers but I was in a rush to meet the other volunteers and kids on our outing - but I told him I'd visit at lunchtime that day.

On arrival he invited me into the office and made a proposal I couldn't refuse. A teacher's assistant position helping with English lessons a few times per week. The school would pay $2 per period taught. I told him I couldn't accept the $2 because I was here as a volunteer - but he insisted. I gave him my phone number and then sent a text message to my boss in Brisbane telling her to watch out because I'd found a job with a VERY competitive salary!!

I also bragged to anyone who'd listen that I was becoming a teacher just like the rest of the McMahon clan, and told my boyfriend that if he joined me in Africa I could provide a lovely mud hut for us to live in, and that 'sugar mama' could support him, now that I'd found paid employment!

Alas, I still haven't heard from Mr Chas!!! I haven't taught a single class, and haven't earned a single shilling. I hope he's just having phone troubles. I hope that one day when I walk past the school he'll call out 'Rebecca!! THERE you are. We've been hoping you would pass by...we REALLY want you to be a teacher here but haven't been able to contact you!!!'. As opposed to his boss saying 'Mr Chas, why on earth would you offer a strange mzungu (with THAT haircut I don't even know if it's a man or woman!) a job at our respectable establishment!! DO NOT CALL HER!!!'.

We'll see... but it'll serve me right for counting my chickens before they hatch.

Swimming with toddlers

There is a little oasis down the road from the baby home - an upmarket safari lodge that allows the volunteers to swim for free. It's totally cheating - being able to duck down to the local pool is not quite as 'roughing it' as I had initially imagined!!

But the best part about the Arumeru lodge is that they also let us bring the children!! This week was the first time we took the babies...they LOVED it. We're taking them back again tomorrow, it's such a happy time, watching them splash about.

Here is a photo of Rahma and I (I'm on a role with my photo uploads today...it's a miracle!!). Rahma is such a little mermaid, she loved going underwater, being swooshed around, and splashing about like a shiny angel (though she wee-ed on my leg while we were swimming, that wasn't QUITE so angelic!). The other photo is of Hope, Maria, Martin and Dorcas. Some of the other children weren't quite as enthusiastic as Rahma...though they really started enjoying themselves towards the end (and they loved the fanta we bought them - such a naughty treat!). Cannot WAIT to take them back tomorrow, as much for my sake as for theirs! :-D

More on the children...

Tomorrow I will have been here for one month. So far my posts re the kids have been fairly scarce, mainly because I have been on the most ridiculous roller coaster of emotions, and the thoughts spinning in my head have been too crazy to publish!!

I'm so insanely besotted with Rosie that I don't even know myself. If the ridiculous adoptions laws here weren't so restrictive, mark my words, I WOULD be welcoming the new year in Brisbane with a toddler on my hip. Unfortunately this is not possible- I was initially told that the adoption laws weren'ts as restrictive as I initially thought but have since heard that that information was incorrect. I'm yet to research the legislative amendments myself - if it takes 2 hours to fail to download a picture I dread to think how long it would take to find and then download a PDF copy of the adoption act.

So now I must come to terms with the fact that I must leave this beautiful, smart, very special girl in November and I may never see her again. Urgh. It breaks my heart, makes me mad and I hate it hate it hate it!!!!!

What makes matters worse is that she loves me too!! She'll appear out of nowhere and start climbing all over me, even when I've made a concerted effort to stay on the opposite side of the room. And when I leave at the end of my shift she throws the biggest wobbly when I prise her little hands off me. I swear it - I am TRYING to keep my distance, but she hunts me down!!!!!! Why must I be so dang loveable!!!!! :-P

Anyway...the above summary of my state of mind doesn't even begin to cover it!!

In the meantime, as time passes, more and more little children are finding special places in my heart. There is a little boy named Lawassa (top photo)...about the same size and age as Rosie, and just as much of a monkey!!! (bottom photo is Rosie, Lawassa and I in a sea of babies).


He is a master in the art of mimicry - whether I cluck my tongue, blow raspberries, or do other bizarre noises...he copies the lot of them. It's SO CUTE!!!! And boy, does he giggle. I never before realised I could be so hilarious.

My other special little man is Dello.


He's really tiny, only 4 or 5 months old. He's always dirty because he's fed porridge even though he should be still on the breast. So the poor little man always spits up half his dinner. But he is SO sweet. He's got the gentlest little smile, and when you walk past him he starts flapping his arms like a little bird. OH I LOVE HIM!!!!!!! Unfortunately he loooooooooooooves being 'supermanned'. And I say unfortunate because I can't resist his smile so I do it often...but when I superman Dello I inevitably wind up with his dribble or porridge all over my face. MMM MMMM.

So there you have it - friendships that centre around kisses, cuddles, tickles, and raspberries. Pure joy!

Mama Ju's bad day

Julie had Wednesday off work because she had a really bad cold. We were mildly sympathetic - but didn't think too much of it because we all had a bad bout of the lurgy at some point during our first few weeks here (possibly due to the stress).

By yesterday, she was violently ill. Julie told me sheepishly that the symptoms sounded very similar to those for malaria, set out in the Lonely Planet (sheepish because every time a child is sick everyone says 'I think it's malaria!). I told her she should speak to the on-site nurse, Batilda, because the symptoms ARE very similar to the flu. Batilda immediately took her to a local clinic where blood tests confirmed she really had malaria.

This morning she was wondering whether she should continue to take the anti-malaria medication she had from home, while taking the course of meds prescribed by the local clinic. I told her to ring her doctor at home to check. Again, sheepishly, she said 'I can't call them - they will ask what medication I'm now taking and I don't know that because they're unlabelled tablets - they'll think I'm insane!!'.

Although malaria can be deadly if left untreated - the locals have access to good medication, so I'm confident in the drugs that Julie was prescribed (apparently if she'd left it one day later before attending the clinic she would have been seriously ill). I trust that the African medication she's been prescribed will be good- one of the little boys at the baby home had malaria last week, and was well within a day or two of taking the meds. So if a skinny little toddler can bounce back, I have faith in Mama Ju!!!! I'll be keeping a close eye on her in the meantime though.

Anyway...what REALLLLLY made it a bad day for her, was that on the way home from the clinic, someone pick-pocketed her in the dala dala and stole $7!!!

A few lessons for us all:
- Even using anti-malaria pills, super-strength insect repellant and mosquito nets does not mean you are safe
- Any sign of flu-like symptoms...pay the $1 fee to have a test to make sure!
- When on the Dala Dala...be acutely aware of where you've hidden your valuables...or you could lose more than $7!

Poor Mama Ju!!

Self-made safari

On Tuesday the director of the baby home and her husband offered to take us to a safari lodge to view some animals. 13 of us crammed into a 4wd and set off on our adventure. On the way to the lodge, just on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere we spotted zebras, wilderbeest, giraffes, impala, and dik diks!!

On arrival at the lodge 2 hours later we were told that we needed to pay an exhorbitant fee to drive through their land to see the animals, and that in any event they were likely seeking respite in the shade somewhere so we wouldn't see anything particularly exciting. Even to stay at the lodge to eat our packed lunches would have cost $5 so we departed in search of a nice shady tree to have our picnic and head home.

On the way back, Davona (the director) spotted broken trees and piles of not-quite-dry elephant dung, and was insistent that if we just drove over 'there' ('there' being off the dirt road and through the bush) we would surely spot them! Her husband reluctantly agreed, and for the following 2 hours we got sore bottoms, saw lots of elephant dung, a few giraffes, but no elephants.

By this time we were lost because we'd been intent on finding the elephants - searching in vain for a landmark to show us the way back to the road, out of nowhere we at last spotted the elephants hiding under some trees!!!! It was so exciting, because we'd almost given up hope!

Mama Ju (my nickname for my american roommate, Julie) was terrified that we wouldn't find our way out of the bush by dark...and was suddenly not so impressed at the prospect of finding more elephants. Eventually we made it back to the main road, and arrived home weary, but extremely satisfied, just in time for dinner.

Such a lovely outing - and our adventure offered so much more fun and excitement than had the lodge allowed us to view their game.

I am WOMAN, hear me roar

About 2 weeks ago a little Tanzanian girl approached me at a local restaurant and asked if I was a boy or a girl. When I replied that I was a girl, she said 'but you look like a boy!'. I thought 'kids say the darndest things!' and thought nothing further of it.

Yesterday when I was working in the newborn nursery, Nanny Grace told me that I should stop cutting my hair because I look like a boy. She said when she first saw me she did not know if I was a man or a woman.

Nothing like being told you look like a man first thing in the morning!

I already hated my haircut...now i am DESPERATE for it to grow back!!!! haha. Oh, the vanity. Vanity aside, I was very impressed with her honesty though. Although many Tanzanian women wear their hair very short, now I know that for mzungu women, it's just not the done thing!

McMania

In the words of PeeKay (Power of One), 'The loneliness birds have laid eggs in my heart'.

Not really, I just said that for dramatic effect- but this morning was tough. I woke to see a text message from mum, advising that next year my sister is transferring to a tiny town, too far from Brisbane for me to walk to visit her (I guess that's one motivation to get my driver's licence!!).

Anyway, news of the transfer came as quite a shock to Jess - and I felt SO SO bad that I couldn't be at home to talk her through it. With mum in China, and me in Africa - all I could think was how lonely and stressed Jess must be. Thankfully I managed to speak briefly to her, but I was feeling a little lost and lonely after our chat and just wanted to be at home with her. I eventually composed myself, but when I went to turn on the stove to re-heat my leftover burnt pumpkin/potato/tomato mush for breakfast, I remembered that the [INSERT AS MANY EXPLETIVES AS YOU CAN THINK OF HERE!!] power was out again!!!!!

Unfortunately, my new housemates heard my colourful language, as did everyone else in Africa. After forcing down some COLD mush and stale bread, I tried to wash the dishes. But then I dropped the [EXPLETIVES!] crockery and caused a terrible mess of broken ceramics in the kitchen. Anyone who slept through the first tantrum certainly copped the second one.

I was conscious mid-tantrum of how ridiculous it was to throw a tantum about power and broken dishes when I am surrounded by 30 beautiful children that have such a difficult life ahead of them, who are so happy and delightful.

Unfortunately, however, sometimes the beast that is 'McMania' must rear its ugly head.

Meeting the locals

The last few days have been lots of fun. On Sunday morning I came to Arusha with Julie and Annemart (volunteers living in the apartment with me) to use the internet and visit the masai markets. That was a bit disappointing, as the only customers we saw were other mzungus (europeans) and the prices were exhorbitant!!!! they tried to charge me $20 for a cloth bag. I wouldn't pay that at home! I managed to get one for $6. ;-)

In the afternoon Julie and I visited the home of Mama Musa, a nanny who works for Cradle of Love. She was so sweet. She is a muslim, so was unable to eat, drink or prepare food for us as it is Ramadan at the moment. But she had arranged for her son Frank (a christian, so he was not fasting) to cook us a traditional Tanzanian meal of cooked green banana, goat and spinach in a coconut cream at his restaurant down the road from Mama Musa's house. MMMM MMMMMMM!!!! The food and company were delightful (though i felt terribly guilty eating in front of Mama Musa during ramadan- but it would have been impolite to refuse her hospitality).

Following our visit to Mama Musa, we met Edson, the driver who collected me from the airport when I arrived. He had previously invited me to visit his plot of land and the house he was building. Being a skeptic, my first thought was 'he SEEMS a lovely fellow, but what if he kills me?' so I asked if I could bring Julie along (best not to die alone! haha). Of course, I was way off base.

Edy took us to see his lovely brick cottage under construction, with spectacular views of Mt Meru (the second highest mountain in Tanzania) and a gorgeous plot of land on which to plant vegetables when his home is eventually completed. Apparently the land cost $4000. The house will cost about $3000 by the time it's completed - is has 3 bedrooms, a communal bathroom, and ensuite and kitchen/dining area. The area where he was building is extremely dusty and quite rural (at present, there is one well that everyone in the development must collect their water from), but it has a lovely community feel. He then took us to his rental flat and was so hospitible - with donuts and Tanzanian juice - which was brewed from a flower and was bitter but tasty.

This morning was another adventure. Annemart wanted african braids, so we went down the road to a tiny shack called 'Mama Asia's Hair Saloon' with one chair and one mirror, for Annemart's makeover. Annemart wanted zigzag braids like R Kelly - but her hair was too thin so they were a little less sharp at the corners than she wanted them...it was hilarious watching her try to explain to Mama Asia (who could speak very little english) that she wanted the braids sharper and closer together, and watching Mama Asia responding in Swahili that it was very difficult to make zigzags for a mzungu because her hair is too fine!




We took pictures of Mama Asia and her family - they were so excited, and asked if we could bring back a developed copy of the photos for her to put in her salon. We're going to do that this afternoon and take the photos to her tomorrow. I'm in Arusha now, waiting for annemart - so i haven't seen the finished product yet. Fingers crossed she is happy with it!

I'm off now to buy supplies and continue researching my safari trip. Apologies for the epic post!

My monkey!

Finally - I'm at a fast internet cafe where I can upload pictures!!! The little monkey climbing all over me is Rosie. Isn't she beautiful?! :-D

A lonely burial

One of our babies passed away this week. Sadly I didn't have the chance to meet him, as he went to hospital the day before my first shift in the newborn nursery. Baby Bahati was just over a week old. His mother and twin died in childbirth. Bahati's lungs were not drained of amniotic fluid when he was born, so he developed pneumonia.

Nurse Batilda took him to hospital on Tuesday, and he passed away that night. Batilda told us that she waited all night at the hospital until Bahati's aunt came to visit at 5am the following morning, so that she could break the sad news. Bahati's aunt did not have enough money to hire a car to take him to his burial site - so Batilda and Bahati's aunt were forced to take him on the dala dala (the public transport mini buses I have previously spoken about). The dala dala ride cost 2,500 shillings (about $AUD2.50) - that is a VERY long way on the dala dala. To put things in perspective - we pay TS500 (60 cents) to get to Arusha from the baby home, which is about a 45minute trip. So nurse Batilda's journey would have taken hours.

Batilda said she was very scared to take the baby on the dala dala, because she feared she would get in a lot of trouble if people discovered that she held a dead body - so her and the aunty had to stay strong and calm for the duration of the ride while Batilda hid the baby under their shawls. Several hours later they were dropped on the side of the road in the middle of the bush. Bahati's uncle was not there to meet them. When they called him on their mobile phones, he said that he would be there soon with 'transportation'. 3 hours later, Bahati's family had still not arrived. Nurse Batilda was concerned that she had a long return journey ahead of her, and she needed to prepare the other babies for their immunisation shots, and she had to go back.

Batilda found a soap box and placed the baby in it. She said some prayers, and christened the baby 'Peter'. As she was about to leave, his uncle arrived with the 'transportation' - a tractor and trailor, and took the baby into the desert for his burial.

Later that evening, Batilda was laughing and playing with the other children at the home. One of the younger volunteers asked her how she could be so happy after such a long, sad day. She simply said that if she allowed herself to feel sad for the babies who passed away she would be overcome with grief, and would be unable to properly care for those that were still with us. She said that she trusted that the baby's journey in this world was always destined to be brief, and God has higher plans for him.

In happier news, the toddlers start preschool tomorrow. Julie, my roommate (43 year old woman from the US - I love her!) is in charge of school. We took them to see the new classroom yesterday and they were SO excited.

I'm off now to find a safari to do at the end of November. Fingers crossed I can find something affordable!!

Can I keep her?

I'm in trouble. I was here for less than a week before i felt the first flush of new love.

Her name is Rosie, and she is 10 months old. She will turn 1 on 14 November. I don't know why i am so drawn to her - the other volunteers think i'm mad, she's a ratbag. she won't sit still for more than 30 seconds and she terrorises all the other children! i call her my little monkey because she looooves to climb. i think she really wants to walk. i have started to teach her. fingers crossed we will get her there by her 1st birthday!!! i taught her how to high-five too. when she does the high five she has the CUTEST little grin.

i've got the love bug bad though. i have dreams about her...in my sleep i can feel her little hands (claws!!) grabbing my arms and legs, and i can hear her blowing raspberries!! i get pangs of jealousy when someone else is holding her - and i even recognise her crying from another room!! what is the matter with me?!?!

in other news, jacob (the new little man who was so world-weary just last week) is doing really well. he's smiling heaps now, and eating really well. he gets on with the other children and even musters up a little chuckle when he gets zoomed around like superman :-D

today is my day off so i'm back in town to check email and buy some supplies (we had no power or water for 2 days - so i need a gas cooker and bottled water!). i'll attempt to load a photo of my little monkey, but who knows if this technophobe will be able to work it out... 1.5 hours later- still waiting for the photo to upload- i think i must resign myself to failure :-(

Babies are MESSY!!!

Well, i have arrived safe. I've been here less than 4 days and already it feels like weeks!!

the babies are beautiful, and very well loved. but one thing i wasn't prepared for was how much noise, and how much mess they make!! because the 30 or so children all eat at the same time, they also POO at the same time. which means the baby change room is full and there are so many crying babies after meals waiting to be changed. it breaks my heart- you want to cuddle them - but you pick up one baby and you get wet nappy all over your pants and then baby vomit all over your shirt (i can't believe i'm blogging about baby vom. what a charmer.) and then the 5 babies you didn't pick up to cuddle then start screaming because they need to be held also. MAYHEM. i need a strategy to deal with this issue because at the moment, meal times are traumatic!! other than the 3 meals per day, life is pretty laid back. the tiny babies nap between meals for the most part, so we spend a lot of time playing with the toddlers - maria, martin, dorcas, and prince.

the toddlers are SO smart. they are up to 3 years old, and they're bilingual, they know every baby's name (even the triplets and twins they can tell apart!)- they are the cutest little munchkins. and they LOOOOOOOOOVE cuddles :-D

yesterday a new baby came in. he had no name, and no mother, and he has big scars on his face, poor little man. he was so dirty too. he has now been named jacob. he's 8 months old and is the size of a 3 month old baby. he looked so sad, and weary - like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. i hope he settles in soon.

last night 2 volunteers and i went to the big town (Arusha) for an african bbq (motor mechanics by day, bbq by night). the journey was TERRIFYING though that may just be culture shock. we caught the dala dala at night as we got caught up with feeding the babies dinner (dala dala at night time is a big no-no as it's quite dangerous. sorry mum!! dala dalas are the local transport - they cram as many people as possible into the minivans and just drop you off along the road where you need to go). the destination was fantastic though. we had a HUUUUUGE feast of lamb, chicken, beef, african salads. basically just a few tables with a giant bbq raosting meat on sticks. had a very good atmosphere.

okay that's enough for today- i'm a bit all over the shop as i have so much to write in my first african post but am conscious that baby mess is not the most interesting topic of conversation. i promise next time i will keep it short and sweet. i will also try and work out how to post a picture on each post. internet in the village is BAD. so i'm just going to try to access it in arusha once every one or two weeks.

Bangkok

Well - i'm off!!

Today's arrival in bangkok was met with a bit of a shock - thinking i had 2 full days in bangkok and one overnight stay, i discovered en route to the hotel that in fact, i fly out tonight!! just 10 hours in town and i'm off again. so much for massages, leisurely shopping and the pursuit of the world's best sticky rice and mango. it also gave me my first kick in the backside about travelling alone. READ YOUR TRAVEL DOCUMENTS because there's noone else to do it for you!!! haha.

on the up side, it means that i'll be in africa for breakfast tomorrow!! WOOHOO!!

not much to report from here - i've slept, bathed, and quickly bought a few extra shirts to wear at the baby home (and a pretty little dress and nighty for my sponsor child margareth!). i'll hang out in the hotel and do a few lessons in my new swahili book (yes - i've left THAT a bit late too!).

will post again when i am blissfully happy in a sea of babies. it still hasn't sunk in yet!

x