One week has already passed since we left on our safari, but all the details are still fresh.Friday, 8:30 AM anxiously awaiting the arrival of our already half an hour late vehicle we begin to wonder if we have crossed the threshold of African Standard Time. Urged to call our agent, Amit reluctantly agrees to drop 300 of his remaining 600 shillings in order to find out the ETA of our driver, Vincent, and cook, Bosco. Minutes later the souped up excursion sized, Landcruiser arrives: massive tires, three rows of paired captain seats, a built in fully powered mini-fridge, electrical outlets that don’t work, and best of all, the type of sunroof that would make a convertible jealous. Stocked with M&Ms, our saving grace, we’re off!Crossing the gates into the western Serengeti, the landscape quickly changes from rows of Coca-Cola and Sprite faced buildings to endless straw shaded fields. We are
all excited by our first sightings of zebras, wildebeests, and gazelles, but soon grow anxious to see the rarer animals. Priyanka’s wish list: 1. baby elephant, 2. male lion, 3. lots of giraffes. The landscapes are incredible. Herds of wildebeests are everywhere as the timing of our safari happens to coincide with their annual migration through the western Serengeti. Interestingly, just like humans trying to escape the heat, they often cluster in groups in the shade of some of the bigger trees that happen to spring from the occasional spot in the otherwise flat plains. Midday, they group directly under the trees, but as the sun looks sideways in the late afternoon, the groups slowly seep out from under the branches in pursuit of the slowly elongating shadows.Only three hours past the western gate we happen across a water source, and with it a gathering 
of animals. In dry season, the dwindling number of rivers and streams funnel the herds in. Perfect bait for hungry lions. Just seeing the lions is a gift, but Vincent believes they may be preparing for an attack, so the engine is turned off and we become part of the scene. Female and cub arise from their slumber, ears point, shoulders tense, head lowers. Such a contrast, from our six bobble-heads, looking every which way trying to grasp what she senses. We click away knowing something is amiss, and then she shoots out from under the tree, through the brush and around towards the back of the car. Within seconds her jaws are clenched around the neck of a wildebeest and she is joined b
y the regal male, all of us had failed to even notice. The site is astounding. Just ten yards away from our vehicle. Male, female, and cub, with dead wildebeest are all that are left of the scattered herds.We were more than spoiled on our first day, but nonetheless continued to be awed by the beauty of the landscapes. The grandeur of fifty plus elephants controlling their stomping ground and families of giraffes careening their necks to enjoy their balcony view over all the action were only a couple of the memorable sites. And interspersed throughout the weekend, lion spottings never failed to spike the adrenaline. 
On our last night we even enjoyed a special visit from the neighborhood elephant. Tired from a long day we had gathered at our campsite expecting only a mix of tents, tired safari goers, and a peaceful evening. Instead we found a crowd gathering near the fenced in cooked stations. Word was that one of the older wiser elephants had figured out how humans keep their water year round. Having departed from the toil of finding water in ever changing streams, he had made it a habit to just take a stroll in our campsite over Ngorongoro for a daily sip from the communal reservoir, haha!By Priyanka and Amit
Wrinkled, swimming pool fingers typing away on a Sunday afternoon. Washing dishes is one of the many new skills we learn living the day to day here in Mwanza. Preparation: tub 1 with hot water, dish detergent and chlorine crystals, tub 2 with hot water and chlorine crystals, and tub 3 with more of the same. In the “man’s kitchen” Dan filters the flow of dirty dishes into tub one and assures that they get a good scrubbing. From there he goes for the no look pass I have come to expect. The soap suds are pulled in by tub 2 and the now virtually clean plate is dropped into tub 3 for the final step. Round three of chlorination takes care of the typhoid, salmonella, and whatever else may have otherwise been looking to hang on for the ride.
Father’s day in Mwanza led Paula, the director here at Nyakato, to cook a feast not to be forgotten: eggplant parmesan, spaghetti, fresh baked bread, balsamic droplets in a puddle of olive oil, ice cream, and lemon cookies. The Tanzania everyone expected, right? Two days ago I even had pumpkin pie for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Here at Nyakato we are beyond lucky to be surrounded by amazing food, great weather, and wonderful people.
It’s Wednesday now. Internet went out last Sunday so the blog was put on hold, but now I am free to begin typing once again. Still wrinkled fingers, no worries. Just finished a stack of dishes again. Today is my miscellaneous day, a nice break in a strangely hectic drawl that equals life here. Each day comes to a close before one is ready for it. Stopping to think, though, I realize how much all the little quirks of living in Africa add up. Hanging clothes on the line to dry, soaking fruits and greens in chlorine water, waiting the flip of an hourglass for a webpage to load, charging electronics when the power is working, knocking shoes before slipping the feet in, doing dishes in three tubs, and warding off mosquitos, all while broiling away your energy under the inescapable steady stroll of the sun above… Every bit is worth it. It’s worth slowing yourself down and stepping away from the independent individualism of life at home.
There are currently ten medical students here (five from UNC, four from Mayo, and one from Iowa). The bulk of us live in the “bungalow” a nice two bedroom bunk-bed filled house with a kitchen, living room and a couple of bathrooms. We are constantly bumping into each other, but it works. In the clinic we rotate through a schedule that involves three lab positions (doing blood draws, measuring blood sugars, hemoglobins, and whatnot, conducting tests for malaria, typhoid, HIV, etc.), a couple rotations with doctors where we practice our physical exam skills and gain mostly tropical medicine knowledge, and finally triage and pharmacy. Aside from the clinic we occasionally outreach to local schools to give health presentations mainly focused on sexual health and STD’s because those are the topics most frequently requested.
Outside of the daily wanderings, one of the most memorable sights from our firs
t couple of weeks was a trip to Dr. Msengi’s dancing rocks. I wish you all could meet Dr. Msengi, one of the physicians we work with and the man who led us on our adventure. In three words he’s expressive, high-pitched, and old-fashioned. A one hour spine reorienting ride led us to what looked like a mountain of misshapen boulders rising behind a typical African village. Unfolding below the other side, however, was an amazing view of lush countryside, stone schoolhouses, and Lake Victoria. A whole afternoon could easily be spent on those rocks, a speck on the horizon.
Whenever we can catch a free afternoon and are able to overcome the desire for shut eye, we venture on one of the multitude of splitting dirt paths leading us to either the village or the basketball courts. A trip to the village equals walking to the beat of a chorus of Swahili greetings from curious onlookers. Shouts of “Mzungu! Mzungu!” (Foreigner! Foreigner!) remind me of my morning walks in Ghana, where I for the first and potentially only time in my life was called a white person (Abruni! Abruni!) haha. A response in Swahili sometimes leads to the full test. If you can make it through all the greetings (Habari – Nzuri!, Mambo vipii – Poa!, Kazi – Kazi Nzuri) you are sure to get some very satisfied smiles and maybe even fall headfirst into a full out conversation you have no chance of keeping up with. Turning the corner into the village we come across the tailors who whip together African print scrubs in the matter of days, the cell phone shop for phone cards, and then our usual destination, a place we like to call pool bar. Basically, our one spot for a cold Coke and chance to watch some World Cup!
A stop by the basketball courts is usually motivated by our secret weapon and varsity athlete Jade. If she is successful at pulling at least three of us out of slumber we can usually represent. Although, I find it virtually impossible to hit anything on the humbling double rims, basketball is always fun and there is usually a good group of people welcoming us to play. The best memory was of thirteen year old Jeffrey from our first outing. After following through layup and shooting drills, we split into two teams with a couple subs. Sitting out at the beginning, I noticed little Jeffrey changing out of his shoes and pulling his polo over his head. Drills and no basketball? Jeffrey said he wasn’t aloud to play yet. The older guys owned the court and Jeffrey was still the little sibling. Not upset at all though, he smiled and watched. He said he would always come out for the drills, even if he couldn’t play in the games, because “Practice makes perfect.”
P.S. Since Priyanka and I are both here for the summer we thought we would include you on both of our writings. Read more about Nyakato and life in Tanzania here: http://priyankarao.blogspot.com
One week has already passed since we left on our safari, but all the details are still fresh.
all excited by our first sightings of zebras, wildebeests, and gazelles, but soon grow anxious to see the rarer animals. Priyanka’s wish list: 1. baby elephant, 2. male lion, 3. lots of giraffes. The landscapes are incredible. Herds of wildebeests are everywhere as the timing of our safari happens to coincide with their annual migration through the western Serengeti. Interestingly, just like humans trying to escape the heat, they often cluster in groups in the shade of some of the bigger trees that happen to spring from the occasional spot in the otherwise flat plains. Midday, they group directly under the trees, but as the sun looks sideways in the late afternoon, the groups slowly seep out from under the branches in pursuit of the slowly elongating shadows.
of animals. In dry season, the dwindling number of rivers and streams funnel the herds in. Perfect bait for hungry lions. Just seeing the lions is a gift, but Vincent believes they may be preparing for an attack, so the engine is turned off and we become part of the scene. Female and cub arise from their slumber, ears point, shoulders tense, head lowers. Such a contrast, from our six bobble-heads, looking every which way trying to grasp what she senses. We click away knowing something is amiss, and then she shoots out from under the tree, through the brush and around towards the back of the car. Within seconds her jaws are clenched around the neck of a wildebeest and she is joined b
y the regal male, all of us had failed to even notice. The site is astounding. Just ten yards away from our vehicle. Male, female, and cub, with dead wildebeest are all that are left of the scattered herds.
On our last night we even enjoyed a special visit from the neighborhood elephant. Tired from a long day we had gathered at our campsite expecting only a mix of tents, tired safari goers, and a peaceful evening. Instead we found a crowd gathering near the fenced in cooked stations. Word was that one of the older wiser elephants had figured out how humans keep their water year round. Having departed from the toil of finding water in ever changing streams, he had made it a habit to just take a stroll in our campsite over Ngorongoro for a daily sip from the communal reservoir, haha!
