Thailand Bound

Don't tell Kenya, I'm cheating on it. Instead of going back to East Africa, as I have every two years, since 2008, I'm jumping to a new continent, new culture, new language. New is the theme, I wanted a new experience and I'm totally getting it. Except some things are exactly the same, the kindness of the people, the instant connection between fellow travelers at heart.

Why Thailand? When I taught at Como Park, many of my students had lived in Thai refugee camps and their personal college application essays spoke of warm air, tropical fruit, and blue waters. I love warm destinations, the more heat - the better. I love water, I could float in waves and sleep on beaches for an infinite amount of days. I love food - but especially Thai food. And I love experiencing culture shock, uncomfortable, unfamiliar, culture shock. This is when I stretch and grow and learn. So - Thailand seemed like the perfect destination to meet my list of wants. In 2006, I went to Paris, in 2008, Kenya, in 2010, East Africa, in 2012, South, Central, East Africa. I'm hungry for travel, I made a goal after my last trip, that every two years I want to leave the country.

It wasn't easy. I worked really hard, really really hard! Making a goal is one thing, meeting it is another. On and off for almost a year, I worked four jobs, sometimes stretches of 7 days a week, double shifts on the weekends. Segway tours, City Pages, groundskeeper for my landlord's properties, teaching nearly full time morning and night. It was worth it.

I flew into Bangkok late on Monday night and will leave Thailand on January 2nd. More to come soon, I can't wait to give an update of my time in Bangkok thus far, it's been amazing and interesting.

I have to run now, off to meet up with a friend of a friend of a friend who lives here and is going to take me on a tour a couple of hours north. Peace, Chelsey

Chelsey, Chelsey!

I hear it called from homes I walk by, on the street, in shops, and all around the school. They remember me and in fact have been waiting for me and within the first hour I found myself sitting on the coach in Dorothy's home as a trail winding out the door of familiar faces lining up to shake my hand and greet me. I am home amongst old family and friends and students now and it feels good. Yet I forgot, after being around people my age, having access to water, often hot water, and internet, being able to walk to a supermarket or go to a bar, I forgot for a moment the struggle of rural village life.

Back and the Reason Why.

Back. Back to the country I stepped foot in for the first time in 2008 - four years ago I seemed to be a different person in some ways, I was young, barely out of my teens, having never traveled to a third world country before, much less traveled, I was naive and more innocent than now, I was nervous and often scared of getting lost or making a mistake, I was somewhat unsure and not as confident as I had hoped to be, definitely not as independent as I am now. Kenya would give me illnesses and hospital stays, a bout of Malaria and Salmonella that would forever weaken my immune system. This country would make me miss home, would make me cry at night out of pure frustration, would depress me and loose me in its busy and dirty streets, it would steal from me and deceive and cheat me, it would confuse me with its languages and cultures I didn't understand, as a minority for the first time, it would give me my first taste of racism and force me to face the uncomfortableness of my skin color and its infinite judgements, in this country I would see real poverty and disease and in a rural village I would live amongst it and in a busy capital city I would walk through it.

But here I am, again, four years later and for the third time, back. Back because I can't stay away, this place showed me a piece of hell but is where I found my personal heaven. In Kenya's multiple gifts, while many included struggle, there was growth. I am more intelligent, my mind is more open and my perspective is greater. I am not afraid and I am not nervous. With each visit I find I am more independent and confident, more wise and sure, of myself and of the fact that this is where not only I want to be in this moment but also perhaps where I am meant to be.

On the plane from Dar Es Salaam to Kisumu, still a little upset about my stolen camera, I read a quote in a magazine, "Experiencing such a spectrum of powerful feelings in a short period is rather overwhelming and almost exhausting. However, after having some time to ruminate and digest it a little, I have come to the conclusion that this is exactly what life is about, at least for me. Imagine waking everyday knowing that today there will be no peaks or troughs, just one even matrix. There was a time where that was preferable, but now I prefer to give myself over to the "sharper teeth of existence"...there would be nothing worse than being gummed to death by life, may you experience the sharper teeth of existence and revel in being alive."

The Africa I have seen, and since Africa is a mighty continent, not one place or one country,but a mass of many countries, people, languages, and cultures, but of the small sampling I have had the privilege of winding through, I have felt alive, I have met incredible in your face genuine endearing kindness, I have laughed hard and smiled big, have welcomed and I mean over the top - live in my home, play with my children, eat my food, let me give you all I can welcomness, I have been amongst people with very little "things" but extreme happiness all the same, I have been embraced, loved, protected, and cared for and been told on infinite occasions, often by strangers on the street, "you are welcome, feel free, be free, and this is your home."

I am drawn to this place like a mosquito to light because of, perhaps, its beauty in nature, while here I've seen wonders of the world, climbed mountains and heard Victoria Falls before I saw it, not to mention the sunsets over the oceans, the red dunes we slept below in the deserts we camped in. Or maybe it is the wildlife, the elephant I rode or the dolphins I swam with, the whales off the coast of South Africa, the big game on the sides of the road in Botswana or the hippos we heard while swimming in the Zambezi or the elephant saw cross. Or maybe it is the activities that fill our days, snorkeling among hundreds of tropical fish in Lake Malawi, the safaris and hiking up and down gorges and dunes and mountains and red clay hills, or the swimming and rafting down the world's most powerful river, the bungee jumping. Also, I can't forget the food, the dishes that remind your tastebuds they are alive, the fresh mangoes alongside beaches, picked for us by smiling locals, the bananas sold to us off the tops of women's heads through our bus windows, the lobster, octopus, and squid dishes sold for mere dollars by local fishermen on the street and seasoned with limes and lemons, the of course the meals cooked in homes by friends that became a little bit of family. But I know the real reason, the truth to why I am back and why I can't stay away, the true attraction and addiction of this travel is not the sights, the animals, the activities, or the food, it is the people. The humans who show humanity and remind me the world is my home.

Sand, Sun, and Dolphins!

After a challenging time making it from the border of Malawi into Tanzania, we were happy to be in the bustling city of Dar Es Salaam. Once again, I found myself in East Africa on the eve of presidential elections, so Makayne and I, after being in buses, vans, and taxis pushed to twice the capacity for the past 72hours were strategic in choosing a place to sleep with a hot shower and a TV to watch who would become our new president, a world away. We had tears running down our face the next morning as we watched Obama give his speech as we sat eating our breakfast, amongst a table of Africans equally excited as us, so much so that they insisted on pictures for us to remember the day.

I was proud of how far we had come in our travel confidence and myself in my Swahili when Makayne and I then figured out the bus system and found ourselves downtown, we then, of course made a friend named George, who is a local art student, running a non profit teaching street kids performance art. George took us on a grand tour with the finale being the fish market where my tastebuds rejoiced at the once familiar taste of fresh octopus. After stopping at a clothes market where we refreshed some of our wardrobe with a few new shirts and skirts for the equivalent of $3, we were back in our rooms, preparing for the Ferry ride to the island of Zanzibar the next morning.

Zanzibar is an ancient trading port, an island not far from the coast of Tanzania, in the Indian ocean, rich with history, culture, and food - ranging from every spice you can think of to every item of seafood. With the Indian influence, this makes for food heaven and was also yet another country where I would gain a pound or two! Our first night, as I am winding my way around ancient mazes of narrow passage ways made entirely of stone, so narrow, no cars can navigate the streets, my nose is busy smelling the fish and breads cooking inside the open doors of the houses we pass and my ears hear the call to prayer and Muslim school children reading the Quaran. I am excited to be on this island. When a young rasta guy asks if we need directions, he jokes with me when I tell him I think I remember where I am going and thus is the start of a weeklong friendship. Kiba is an artist around my age who came to the island from the mainland at a young age but his talent is so great he has been invited all over the world to teach his art and sells his work across the island. Kiba had just spent three months in Japan and his quick smile and contagious laugh led us to hanging out with him and his friends the whole night. When we told them of our plans to head to the east coast of the island and spend three days lounging on the white sand, he helped set us up with a ride, and the next day met us and took us out to a beach party, unfortunately, this was the time I started to get really sick, so I took it easy while he showed Makayne, along with two Swedish girls, around. For lunch each day, he would invite us into his friend's homes and cook, along with his other friend, Seif, us huge meals of rice, mango, tomatoes, and fish. After a few days on this tropical beach, we decided to try our luck further south where we heard we could swim with dolphins. Of course, as our luck would have it, Kiba and Seif had a friend with a beach house who also had a boat, who just happened to run a snorkeling and dolphin swimming company.

In meeting and hanging out with locals, we get a behind the scenes look at everything and when you are with locals, you also get to eat, travel, and stay where the locals do which means you spend a fraction of what you would as a typical tourist. So, we make it to the beach house where we are told we can pay whatever we would like, we are told to sit down for dinner, and Omar, the friend and owner of the house begins to cook us a meal, which would not be our first, for he would cook us every meal for the four days we would stay with him, while Seif and Kiba assisted with building the open fire our meals would be prepared over. Fresh fish everyday with spices and fruits - waking up beside the beach, we didn't think it would get any better until it came time to swim with the dolphins.

Seeing advertisements to swim with dolphins for around $45-50 each, Makayne and I had a whole day to ourselves with these creatures for half the price. Not knowing what to expect, I was completely overwhelmed by the amazingness of the experience. Within 15minutes from shore, our boat was surrounded by fins, and while I counted several, I had no idea that beneath the water, there were dozens more. So while the boat comes to a slowdown, we are sitting over the side with our snorkels and fins and we are told to "jump in now and swim, look down, now, jump in!" Beside me, below me, above me, every where I look, I see these huge magnificent and beautiful creatures, I am totally freaked out, kind of scared, but in awe, I swim with them, I reach out to them, I look down at them under water and lift my snorkel up to look at them above the water jumping and swimming. We do this for the next couple of hours and then again the next day because we are just laying around and Omar has free time.

We head back for Stone Town, away from the beaches but needing to be on our way to catch all of the school kids in Kisumu before they all leave for Christmas break. So, after one last night on the town with our friends, where unfortunately my wallet is stolen, I am forced to remind myself that I am fine, it was just a camera, and I am lucky to even be in a position to have owned it and to be traveling right now. When I watch the news here, I see people dying, people blowing each other up, people with no money and no hope, then I feel embarrassed for being so upset. I honestly hope whoever took it benefits somehow because I will always have those memories in my head, I already bought a new phone, and when I go home, I can afford a new camera. I stand by the fact that I have only met good people here and most people are good people.

With another once in a lifetime experience in my pocket and more reminders to be thankful, we are on our way to where this continent first grabbed my heart, and luckily, we are spoiling ourselves, because we are in a hurry, rather than a three day bus ride, we are flying into Kisumu. When we get to the airport, we can't remember our flight number, we had almost missed our ferry, we have two layovers and a delayed flight,but within less than a day, we are taking a taxi from the airport and I am talking to the driver in Luo and Swahili and he knows the school I worked at and we are in a hotel for the night in downtown Kisumu, less than an hour away from my former home, my old village, my Kenyan family that is anxiously awaiting my arrival, if I weren't so exhausted,I doubt I could have slept.

T.I.A=This is Africa - journey out of

Looking back on the last 72 hours of chicken busses, buses, taxis, and cars, I guess I can only laugh at the bad luck and focus on the good. It took us about three days to travel from Malawi's Nkhata Bay to the capital of Tanzania, Dar Es Salaam and it entailed a total rollercoaster of really bad luck, followed by really good luck in our never ending journey overland. I only have about 4 minutes online here so I will give a very brief overview and save the details (which there are some good ones) for another time.

Ran with backpack to border post in the dark after sharing a long bus ride out of Malawi with chickens, children, cabbage, etc, it was closed, immigration man opened it up specially for us, ran out of money for visa fee, immigration man's friend sold us money on black market in back of customs office in the dark, taxi tried ripping us off, immigration man called friend to give us lift, bank was closed/atm not working in the morning, couldn't pay for bus into Tanzania, stayed one night for $2, got bus, bought ticket for second bus, second bus didn't exist - totally ripped off, yelled at people who sold us ticket, they found a random car going our direction - instead of 20hr bus ride=7 hour private car, car ran out of gas, no fuel existing in gas stations, found bus, made it here!!!! lol TIA = this is africa.

Happy in Dar, going to island of Zanzibar tomorrow. Off to market to find some cheap new/used clothes now, then back to lodge to watch CNN and hopefully see the election news!

Blue Waters, Blue Skies

If these boxes that smell like fish and probably contain fish and seem to weigh hundreds of pounds fell on my head right now, I would probably die and that would be a strange way to go...I spent at least half the bus ride staring at the thin and frayed twine that held up boxes above my head…luckily the boxes didn’t fall and roadside vendors selling everything from juice to cabbage at our windows at every stop, the friendly woman sitting behind me who invited us to stay with her family that night, and the girl beside us who helped us negotiate the purchase of cookies and soda by sticking her body out the window and yelling in a language we didn’t know..kept me distracted from the boxes of fish. And soon, we would begin to see the lake, stretching out on both sides of us.

From Malawi’s capital city to the northern shores of the lake we would be on a bus of some sort for over 13 hours, but waking up in the morning, opening your mosquito net canopy and walking out to your deck that towers over the waves of the lake on stilts, in your wooden room carved into the bluffs, make it all worth it. At $10 a night, our lodge is spendy for Malawian standards and even ours but the beauty, location, staff, food, and atmosphere make it hard to pack up and find a cheaper backpack lodge.

Our first full day in Nhkata Bay is spent at the beach, swimming in perfectly clear, bright blue water, confusing where the lake and the horizon of the sky start and end, thinking we must be at the ocean. After our first full night, the owner of the lodge, a crazy character named Gary, who reminds me a lot of my dad, makes his rounds to every table around the bar/restaurant attached to our lodge. He greets everyone by name before sitting at our table and apologizing for not meeting us earlier. When we explain we are sisters travelling independently and we arrived just after 1am, his eyes widen and he rushes off to bring us a free bottle of his best wine, one the house, on the house, he smiles! After he pours us our first drink, he asks if we are staying in the dorms, when we say yes, he tells us about the beautiful chalets they have on the lake and since it is low season, they must have an open one they can put us up in, and of course we can just pay the dorm rate. So with our free bottle of wine and room upgrade, we don’t think it can get much better than that, until after Gary has a few more beers, he proclaims to everyone at the bar that we are all drinking free the rest of the night. So amidst the local rasta men playing hand drums, bottles of vodka and whiskey being passed around amongst the bar, the owner’s three dogs laying at our feet, Michael Jackson playing on the radio, and a Malawian beer in my hand, I still am missing Zimbabwe but am happy and lucky to be here, amongst these new friends.

The night goes on and we end up hitching a ride into town with the group from that bar and we dance and listen to music until 4am, sleep until noon, and wake up to waves breaking beneath our bed and banana pancakes in the kitchen. Today we borrowed the lodge’s canoe, yesterday we borrowed their snorkel gear, I’ve read two books in the past two days both borrowed from the lodge’s giant collection, gained at least five pounds since this trip started feasting on food that makes my tastebuds feel alive, I’ve finished my bottle of sunscreen and am feeling more tan than I have in my life, I have even gotten ahold of Farai on the phone, and I am content.

Goodbye Zimbabwe, Hello Malawi

When does the bus leave? As soon as I asked I knew it was a silly question…”when it is full” the driver smiled back. Three hours of waiting on and around the bus later, we are on our way to the lake. Lake Malawi consumes 2/3rds of the country and is the third largest body of water to grace the continent of Africa. Our bus ride from Malawi’s capital city, Lilongwe, to the northern shores of the lake, Nkhata Bay, we were told would take a few hours, but from waiting on the bus to leave to resting our heads at our destination, over 13 hours of multiple buses and mini buses would be involved. More on that later but let me rewind to the bus rides from our beloved Zimbabwe to Zambia, then from Zambia to Malawi.

Almost one week ago, after a night of making our rounds around the small town of Vic Falls, Zimbabwe, we had said goodbye to the staff at our restcamp, the workers behind the counter and chicken and pizza inn, the owner of Smiles restraint, the tech guy at the internet café, the bartenders and security at our local bar and hangout where we eat and drink every night, and last but not least, our friends. The next morning we were packed and in a total rush to leave for the border when Frank told us he was making tea. I said under tears from his room he had given us to stay in that it would be best if we skipped the tea and got going right away. Frank, having spent years overseas, knew what I meant. If you are ready to leave, you might as well go quickly and get it over with, the more time you take, the more painful it is.

So we said goodbye to the family that took us in and made their home ours. We hopped in a car with Frank and were on our way. Frank wanted to be dropped off in town on our way to the border and as he was dropped off, we ducked under the seats, not wanting to have to see the town we had said goodbye to the night before. Unfortunately, Farai had left without saying goodbye to us and had disappeared, so while we were at the border that morning, which is maybe a 20min. walk from town, we were at the counter with our paperwork finished and passports ready to be stamped and when I looked at Makayne, taking deep breaths between sobs, she knew what I was thinking. We had to go back, we couldn’t leave without finding Farai in town and saying goodbye. So we turn around and as we walk out of customs I can’t help but imagine it like the movies, with Farai running to the border to say goodbye and not more than a second later I hear Makayne mutter, “Oh My God.” And there is our dear friend we met the first day we stepped foot in Zimbabwe and he is running up the hill to the border. Now I am laughing and crying all at once and after Farai asks me why I am crying and I tell him it is because I don’t want to leave him, he gives me a long hug, a kiss on the forehead and tells me he will always remember me and I feel this will probably be as much closure as I will probably ever have. Is it possible part of me fell in love with this 35 year old, dreadlocked, Rastafarian, free spirit drinker and smoker? I laugh when I ask Makayne this later but then we both stop laughing when we each realize part of me is serious.

We cross the border of Zimbabwe, share a ride with an old man who recites every random fact from every African country he has been in, he instantly reminds me of my grandpa and I let him distract me. The driver hands us our bags at the Zambia border and tells us he knows we will be back one day. Zambia is less than 30min from Vic Falls and the thought of spending more than an hour so close to Vic Falls is a tease so our goal was to get as far away as soon as possible. This goal was tested when the second our feet touched Zambian ground when a bus driver ran up to us, reading our thoughts, grabbing our bags and screaming, bus to Lusaka leaves at 10:30. The time was 10:30 and we had no local currency much less an idea of the exchange rate, no sense of direction, knowledge of a word of local language. There was no time to visit the ATM or bank so after telling him I only had US dollars, I had to remind myself to trust the good in people as my $50 dollar bill and our bags disappeared into a sea of people and we were ushered onto the bus. With no food or water and a 9hour ride ahead of us into a new place, I was happy when the driver brought me back my change in local currency, explained the rate, and made me happy with my choice to trust him. Emotionally exhausted we slept most of the way to Zambia’s capital city only occasionally waking up to see a marathon of Sylvester Stallone movies playing or a child running up and down the aisle to stare at me in my seat. We were happy that night to get off the bus in the capital city, Lusaka and were greeted by a herd of taxi drivers until we settled on one that kindly offered to help us find a bus the next morning that would take us into Malawi, take us to the ATM, find us a place to eat (which ended up being a Subway restaurant!), deliver us to a cheap backpacker place, teach us a few basic words, and make sure we had a ride in the morning for our bus to Malawi’s capital city, Lilongwe.

After a quick night of sleep, we are up at 4am – along with a Japanese girl who shared our dorm room, we find we are all heading in the same direction. 12 hours of 80’s music with a lot of Celine Dion and techno mixed in, some really random American movies, free snacks, and driving so crazy that Makayne is yelled at by the driving for sticking her elbow out the window because we zoom so close to oncoming buses and semis – we are one country away from Zimbabwe, having spent less than 24 hours in Zambia, we are exciting to be inching closer to the shores of what we’ve heard is a beautiful paradise (which seems to be a description that could fit nearly all of Africa).

It is a dark and rainy night in Malawi’s capital city and we are ready for bed, a shower, and most pressing, a meal. We ask the Japanese girl who was been travelling our same path if she knows where she is sleeping tonight and she does, we share a taxi to a restcamp where we will spend two nights at $4 a night. The restcamp has a large kitchen and inside of it we meet Manuel, a Spaniard who gives us a bag of rice and Jones, a local who drives us to the grocery store, helps us buy ingredients for dinner, and then ends up basically cooking us a dinner of rice, meat, and vegetables. The next day, Jones and his friend, Nelson show us around town so we can go to the bank, ATM, grocery store, internet café, tourist center to figure out our next bus, and clothing store so I can buy a new swimsuit since I accidently left mine behind in Zimbabwe. We think that they have dropped us off but three hours later when some locals try selling us random goods, Nelson and Jones appear from nowhere, asking if we are ready to leave. They drop us off at our camp and after a short nap, help us again to prepare a feast. Afterwards, they take us to a local bar, with another friend, Mona Lisa, and we are told over and over again with surprise how friendly and talkative we are and then bought round after round of beer while we listen to one of the most talented musicians I’ve ever heard strum away at a piano and sing reggae renditions of Shania Twain and Enrique Iglesias.

The next day, I have a quick but frustrating visit to the US embassy where my worries are confirmed that I have run out of blank pages in my passport and in Tanzania I will need to spend two days and $82 at the capital getting more blank pages before I can move on to Zanzibar, Kenya, or anywhere else. After the Embassy, Jones and Nelson drop us off with a hug and a goodbye at the bus station, asking us to keep in touch and travel safe. We prepare to board the bus from the capital of Malawi to the lake, after travelling two countries on multiple buses, and this brings me back to where this blog entry started.

Things I will miss about Zimbabwe

On the verge of overstaying our tourist visas, we have been in the small town of Vic Falls, Zimbabwe for nearly one month, a place that we were going to quickly pass through in a day or two has captured us and now where we were once visitors camping at a lodge, we feel like locals, staying in a township, where we moved in last week with a family of nearly twenty. This little town and the people in it have given me a lot to miss but here are some things I will especially look back on and smile:

- waking up every morning to the sound of baboons, monkeys, birds, and other wild animals, the sound of the women in our home sweeping, washing, singing, the sound of the kids stirring in their sleep or playing, the sound of tea being poured for us and wood being gathered for a fire outside to cook, and the sound of Farai coming into our room whispering, wake up, wake up.
- falling asleep either in our tent at our rest camp, in the room that was made for us in Farai's family's home, on our friend Pace's couch or floor - covered in blankets, outside, behind Farai's house when the nights are too hot, with a mosquito net hanging from a tree and a blanket on the ground, with Farai in the middle - holding the mosquito net down with his feet or tucking us in, and then waking us up when the sun comes up to move us into the house where we can catch a few more hours of sleep.
- going to the supermarket/butchery/or side of the road to get chicken, fish, beef, avocados, tomatoes, and onions for our nightly barbeque and then seeing all of the men taking such care in cooking and preparing plates for Makayne and I filled with the best pieces of meat and the most food while these three plus men all share from one plate
- walking from the township neighborhood where we moved, into town where we originally stayed, the walk is about 35 minutes and usually Farai is in the middle with our Ipod while Makayne and I are on each side, all three of us with an ear bud in our ears, listening to the new African music that we have come to love, walking step for step, singing the whole way into town together
- eating Sadsa and greens, the traditional staple food, at Smiles restaurant, every single day for lunch. For $2 you get a heaping huge plate full (and I am sure that he gives us extra) of the warm corn flour and water based mixture, greens, a tomato/onion sauce, and chicken. The food is something I crave everyday and if I don't eat Sadsa, I feel like something is not right! The warm mashed potato consistency like food is eaten with your hands, rolled into a ball, and used as a spoon for your other food.
- eating with my hands!
- the music and natural way of dancing, everyone is always dancing, young and old, dancing is such an ingrained part of culture, and the people here dance amazingly - you can't help but be happy watching them and then are so grateful when they are patient enough to dance with you even though we are not so good!
- taking a nap by the pool of the rest camp lodge we used to stay in, taking a shower there to get ready for the day or night, getting water there, charging our phones, ipods, cameras there, and keeping half our clothes on the line there - while the whole time we are welcomed there, even though we are no longer sleeping there
- spending every night at Invuvu bar - maybe just for a soda and dinner, maybe for for a Zambezi, Castle, or Lion beer - but always for the music and conversation with friends.
- The people: our band of brothers that watch over us, keep us fed, buy us a drink or fill up our water bottles, keep us clean by carrying water for us to shower in the morning, keep us laughing, keep us well rested, keep us healthy, keep us happy...
---First and foremost, my dear friend, Farai. The dreadlocked free spirit who we met on day one, the one that took us to the falls, took us swimming in the river, and eventually took us to live with his family - his brothers and sisters, cousins and nieces, nephews and uncles. Farai is special and I will miss him a lot, if it weren't for us meeting him, we wouldn't have met any of the people below, as everyone is friends with this man and because of him, we have stayed in this town rather than passing through.
---Shorty - the street kid who gave us each one braided dreadlock and told us he is our brother, the world's absolute best dancer, the way he moves with the music to every song with every style of dance is completely amazing
---Mazino - our friend who is always laughing, his name means teeth and he is always showing them with his smile, his laugh is something I will really miss, he always cheers us up, and is the best story teller ever! He loves to dance and sing and is a true enjoyer of life. He also is really great at pulling your leg and is full of jokes. Mazino has a lot of sayings that I hope to take home with me!
---Perseverance (Pacey) - aww Pacey is like the big brother that spoils you, he wants us to drink good beer, eat more food, and no matter what - always be having fun! We have spent a few nights at his house for dinner or a floor to crash on and he is someone really special
---Allen - this older guy is like your favorite uncle, full of life experiences, kind enough to share many of them with me. Allen knows 17 languages and the scientific names for every plant and animal
---Knowledge - often the responsible one since he doesn't drink, he is always kind enough to find a car to borrow to drive us around at night and give us lifts home, he is a true soccer fan, christian, and knows everything there is to know about Vic Falls, especially since his name is knowledge and he works at the visitor info center in town - where we usually go and sit when we are bored and help give advice to tourists!
---Bornwell - he helps to run a nonprofit school and is always running about here and there but always makes time to greet us, dance with us, and make us smile
---Manchester - even though our names support opposite soccer teams, Manchester is nothing but a kind force with dance moves and a smile that would make anyone a little weak at the knees
---Frank (Captain) - Farai's older brother who made it big at age 17 as a model in Australia, a record producer and rapper in the UK, and a rafting guide throughout the world, living a wild life as a youngster, he is a born again christian who takes us to church, cares for over 16 kids (some his and some extended family), and makes sure we eat, eat, and eat while staying at his family's home. Frank made a room for us where he and some of the kids usually sleep in his home, meanwhile, he and the kids are sleeping on the floor and in the kitchen.
---Zaks and Brighton - the younger brothers of Farai, they are 19 and 20 and these two boys are often responsible for babysitting and cooking for about seven kids, ranging from two years old to ten. Watching them care for these kids and cook for us is really endearing and it's even more precious when they walk with us on the street and act protective and worried about us tripping on a rock or someone annoying us
---There are so many others, from Snake and Pilani our rafting guides to Tuffy and Dallas the Rastafarian artists who greet us with "One love and Peace" to the bartenders and wait staff at the bar and at our lodge who put our purses behind their counter when we want to dance or charge our electronics or let us change the music to our regular taxi drivers to the brothers, sisters, uncles, cousins, etc of Farai's family, to the people at church.

I know I am missing a lot of people, but these are some of the faces that I see every single day that pop into my head, these are the faces I will miss most. Sometimes when other tourists come and see us barbequing, eating, and laughing with all of these men, you can tell that they think these guys are annoying us or trying to take advantage of us or maybe have bad intentions but with these group of friends, I have never felt more comfortable or safe. It does happen that sometimes someone will come up to my sister and I and be annoying or say that they want to come to America and marry us or ask for money or will want to pull us away and dance - the second that happens, they immediately regret it because our "brothers" make it clear that that is not respectful. The thing to also remember here is that tourism is the number one industry in this town, and that it is a very small town. As it was explained to us our first week here: That means that if everyone sees my sister and hanging out with this group of locals, and then if something happened to my sister and I, even if this group was not with us at the time and not to blame, they would be brought in by the police because they are seen as responsible for us and in care of us and they want to make sure that tourists enjoy their time here and come back. So all in all, we are totally welcomed into this town, have never felt more at home, are so well cared for, and will miss it here dearly.

The Mighty Zambezi

I have been rafting down the White Nile River in Uganda in 2008 and for that reason, I didn't really think much about going rafting here in Zimbabwe. However, almost every other night, someone who works on the river would try to convince us. It was our first week here when Snake, a river guide who has traveled the world rafting, told us, "take my word for it, you girls will not leave Vic Falls without taking a ride down the mighty Zambezi"

Fast forward to a few days ago and we find ourselves strapping on our helmets, tightening up our life jackets, and hopping in a raft. Luckily for us, we happen to have made some really great friends with some of the legends and greats of the mighty Zambezi. Snake (but not the poisonous kind, as he says) is a friendly character we usually run into at the bar, along with the many other locals, of which 99% of them work in the tourism industry, most on the river. Captain is the brother of Farai, who we moved in with about a week ago. Captain started the Vic Falls Rafting organization and wrote much of the curriculum for the training programs. Pilani works on the Colorado River in his spare time and represents Zimbabwe in the world rafting competitions. So, Snake, Captain, Farai, and Pilani - all of whom have grown up on the river and all of whom (except Farai) have traveled the world as some of the most sought after guides, made up our rafting crew. The heavy discount was great but the best part was being able to be in a raft with these men, our friends, and especially Farai who is the biggest goofball if I have ever seen one and not much of a rafter. I think Farai was still a little drunk from the night before as we dragged him out of bed as the truck pulled up to his home to pick us up, Farai kept us laughing on the river the whole entire day. When you learn more about what makes the Zambezi so special, you get pretty nervous:

"White Water Rafting on the Zambezi River below the Victoria Falls has been classified as Grade 5 - "extremely difficult, long and violent rapids, steep gradients, big drops and pressure areas". This is a high volume, pool-drop river. The Zambezi is world renowned for its extremely high volume and steep gradient - treat it with respect." Actually we also learned that many class 3 rapids in the states are considered class 1 rapids here on the Zambezi. We also went down the largest rapid drop in the world, 16 feet! It was something. Luckily my nerves were replaced by sheer adrenaline and excitement, especially because I knew that seated beside me were not only my friends, not only locals, but some of the best rafting guides in the world, I knew I was in great hands.

Before every rapid we would get instructed on how we would get through it and then, most importantly, what to do if/when we flip - for example, they might say, swim hard left, or get on your back and let the water take you, or - for the most heart pounding moment - "there is only one way to take this rapid, that is to go straight through the middle of it, there are three standing waves, we cannot avoid them, we will flip over. You will be sucked down into the water up to three times but you will pop back up, remain calm, breath, get on your back, and enjoy the ride" I remember flipping and holding my paddle in my hand and then I remember one of the many safety kayakers that are always by our side paddling over to me, I went to grab onto his rope thinking he was going to "rescue" me, instead, he gave a big smile, took my paddle for me, pushed me away, and said, "enjoy your ride, swim the rapids, you can do it!" I zoomed by Farai and we have each other a thumbs up and before we knew it, we were on the other side.

When our full day of rafting was done, I had never laughed so hard or smiled so big, we were a great team and I was in awe and continually impressed by the men in our raft and their skill, knowledge, and pure muscle! It was like they were one with the river. And as Makayne and I struggled up, climbing almost vertical out of the beautiful gorge we had spent our day in, our friends took our paddles, our vests, our helmets for us, cheered us on our way, and had a cold beer waiting for us at the top. The fun didn't end there though, at the bar where we go each night for a soda, a beer, a bbq, good conversation, there was going to be a special showing. On the big screen TV, with all of our friends gathered around, we all sat down to watch a video of our rafting day. We bought the video so if you want to see it, we would love to show it to you!

Now I can say that I have taken a ride down the mighty Zambezi, and for that, I am very grateful!

Zimbabwe

Makayne and I arrived in Zimbabwe one week ago with a plan to only stay for one day, one week later, we are still here. If you do any research, you will have a hard time reading anything positive at all about Zimbabwe. If you visit Zimbabwe, you will have a hard time not having anything but a positive experience. You may know about the president, whose name we can't even say here, much less discuss. He has been accused by nearly every human rights organization of violating his people, being corrupt, and basically taking over the government as a dictator. Or you may be familiar with the economic crisis where inflation rose from an annual rate of 32% in 1998, to an official estimated high of 11,200,000% in August 2008. I remember seeing on the news people fleeing the country because there was no food in the grocery stores. Teachers go on strike because of low pay, students unable to concentrate because of hunger and the price of uniforms soaring making this standard a luxury. By the end of November 2008, three of Zimbabwe's four major hospitals had shut down. Those hospitals still open are not able to obtain basic drugs and medicines. Zimbabwe now has one of the lowest life expectancies on Earth – 44 for men and 43 for women, down from 60 in 1990. The rapid drop has been ascribed mainly to the HIV/AIDS pandemic. The downward spiral of the economy has been attributed mainly to mismanagement and corruption by the government and the eviction of more than 4,000 white farmers in the controversial land redistribution of 2000. The Zimbabwe Conservation Task Force released a report in June 2007, estimating 60% of Zimbabwe's wildlife has died since 2000 due to poaching and deforestation.

Despite all of this, we have been unable to leave Zimbabwe. Day one, just about a week ago now, Makayne and I were walking down the street and a huge group of baboons were in our way, we stopped, somewhat freaked out, until we met Farai, laughing at us, he scared away the baboons, and we started some conversation. Farai has since become something of a big brother to us, or as he says, "we are his sister from another mister". The next day, after doing our gorge swing (similar to bungee jumping) and elephant back safari, which by the way, was incredible, we woke up to find Farai nearby, he invited us to BBQ at the bar near our lodge. Well, that was the start of our adventure and our mission once again to be more than tourists was in full swing. The butcher shop in town was closed so we hopped in the car with also our second friend we have met now, Knowledge (who works at the information center funny enough) and we are on our way winding through rural neighborhoods and townships, when I am standing at the counter, staring at stacks of raw meat, surrounded by black men, and being asked what type of meat I want and how much, I can only laugh, when I look to Farai for help, he tells me, "you are more than a tourist, you can do it." I order the meat, guessing how many kilograms three men and my sister and I can eat, we go back to the bar, Farai disappears and comes back with avocados, onions, tomatoes, apples, banannas, and soda, and before we know it we are seated at the bar with a huge plate of food in front of us and an orange Fanta to drink. From that first night on, every night, Farai and his friends, Knowledge, and also Pace, who we would meet that same night, have cooked and served us dinner each evening. But more than that, they have become like our brothers. Zimbabwe is a place that some people may not feel safe in but I have seen no reason for that, in fact, I have never felt unsafe, but maybe that is because of Farai, Knowledge, and Pace. When they take us around and show us a bar or restaurant outside of town, they sit up high at the bar and are always looking around, Farai even holds our purses for us and makes us walk to the bathroom together, when we go somewhere without telling him, he asks where we are going, if we look hot, he gets us cold water, if he notices we are slapping mosquitoes, he gets the bar man to go get us spray, if we have leftover food, he asks someone on the street to put it in their refrigerator for us, he puts new music on our ipod, he tells us what to do culturally and what not to do, if someone on the street tries to sell us something or bothers us, he yells at them. When we went to Victoria Falls, he held our stuff and insisted on taking a million pictures of us (for your mother to see). Last night, when we told Pace that our mom mentioned we should stay longer here if we are enjoying it, he seriously offered to email her and let her know that we are being taken care of, this was right after he had filled up our plates with more food and told us we needed to eat more so when we go home everyone can tell we were taken care of. They say that in their culture, they cannot say no to a woman and if she needs something they must take care of her because women remind them of their mothers. Farai means happy and Pace is short for Perseverance, and Knowledge, well ask him anything about the city and he will know. Pace works at one of the nicer hotels doing financial work, Farai brings in tourists off the street to local adventure booking offices.

Our typical day in Zimbabwe has been to wake up, shower, eat breakfast at the restaurant in our lodge, swim, walk down the street to the information center and see what plans Knowledge has for us for the day, or if we take too long, Farai comes and gets us at our lodge, then we walk around town, wash clothes, go to the store, and meet up at the bar for dinner. Sometimes after dinner we go out to a few different places and this has been especially fun because the music is so great and we have gotten to know so many locals. Tonight we are going to Pace's home for a traditional dinner where we will even get to eat some Mopane Worms! This afternoon we are walking to Victoria Falls hotel, it is hundreds of years old and where all of the famous and rich stay. On Saturday we are going to a concert, and on Sunday a soccer game. Since being here, we have had the chance to go to an amazing Reggae concert where bands from all over southern Africa came to perform, we rode elephants, swung down a gorge, have gotten so tan by the pool, have had amazing food, have had powerful conversations, have gotten to see different lodges, went to a soccer game in a National Park, see wildlife all over the sides of the road at all hours, have meet so many amazing people, have experienced so much culture, have had a fun time going out, and have fallen in love with Victoria Falls. The reception at our lodge have given us a discount on our room and everyday make bets about how long we will extend our stay next.

The people here are kind, the music is good, the weather is warm, the accommodations are comfortable, the sights are beautiful, we have fallen in love with the small town on the edge of Zambia and not far from Botswana. Victoria Falls is a place I will never forget and will be very sad to leave.