tanzania

Ok, so I have about a two hour flight ahead of me from the capital of Tanzania (Dar es Salaam) to the international airport in Uganda (Entebbe, though Kampala is the capital), and surely in that time I can spill something onto paper about the last nine days before I embark onto another phase of this journey, promptly forgetting all I’ve seen and done here.

Tanzania’s in eastern, southern Africa (am sharing this because I didn’t know either) and is home to Lake Victoria and the Serengeti plains in the north (think Lion King) and a gorgeous oceanic coastline in the east. The exotic island of Zanzibar is also just across the water from the lackluster metropolis of Dar.

All that said, it’s also one of the world’s poorest countries (annual household income of less than $300) and they’ve got a pretty terrible malaria problem, thus the reason for my visit. A U.S. government program that’s funded by your tax dollars has put millions into the fight against malaria here, beginning with successful efforts in Zanzibar two years ago. Mainland Tanzania is immensely more complex in size and scope, but they have still made strides against the country’s number one killer, and I’m here to document how.

After working in the malaria field for a few months now and traveling lots already, I have seen NOTHING like I saw in northern Tanzania, one of its most severely-affected areas. Sick people of all ages, packed hospital wards, empty shelves where medicines should be but supplies were completely depleted. It was all a truly shocking situation, because it wasn’t even rainy season yet when infection rates are always highest, so it’s only going to get worse. For perhaps the first time, I personally felt the sheer gravity of the disease and the urgency to do even more to help fight it.

And that message has already spread to others as well. In the relatively small town I worked out of the first four or five days of my time here, I connected (through a series of random, completely unplanned events) with another group of Americans, two of whom you’d likely recognize for winning an Oscar together years back – they went on to star in lots of movies and grace tabloid covers everywhere. Anyway, no names necessary, but suffice it to say, one was very nice and impressive, and the other, not so much. But I’m very thankful they both came to see firsthand what the realities are outside of the Western world, and I was able to end up spending a day with them as their “malaria expert” (ha!). Hopefully, they’ll use their spotlight to raise awareness for the ongoing plight of the suffering and struggling in Africa and beyond.

Almost as interesting to me, was that one of people traveling with them was the inventor of the ONE campaign, which I have loved and supported for years. My life is just so random …

I learned quickly on my travels around the countryside, that Tanzania’s topography is immensely varied. Within an hours drive, I went from the fertile shoreline of Lake Victoria (the world’s second largest inland lake) to one of the most bizarre landscapes I’ve ever seen as I traveled east toward the Serengeti -- rolling hillsides spotted with gigantic, haphazardly-placed rock formations. Many resembled larger versions of Stonehenge, but not quite so systematic, and they perhaps even looked like moon rocks, too (if that even makes sense) but set against the back drop of open fields and traditional huts. It was very, very strange and made me think that people who don’t believe in the Flood should really go to northern Tanzania and see these crazy rocks. I just can’t imagine how else they got there….

Aside from the landscape, I must confess that I wasn’t nearly as enamored with Tanzania as I was with Ethiopia. Some African countries that I’ve visited seem to have a stronger sense (or display) of their own cultural traditions and history than others. For example, there was no clear Tanzanian food that I could find, except for fish from Lake Victoria. They boasted chapattis as their own, but we all know that’s an Indian thing, though there are indeed lots of Indians in Tanzania. The only traditional dress that I could discern was that of the Masaii people, who you may recognize as those whose men wear long red plaid cloaks and are often pictured standing stoically with spears and shields. But the ones I saw were more likely to be holding cell phones. Apparently, lack of rainfall and other environmental factors of recent years have forced the Masaii from their nomadic lifestyle of the past millenniums, and thousands have now flocked to the cities looking for work. But not leaving the red traditional robes at home…

Yesterday was last day in Tanzania and I had returned from the moon rock-laden countryside to the capital to visit (among other things) an urban larvaciding project. Sounds fascinating, I know, but this is indeed my life now. So what they do in this one-of-a-kind-in-the-world project is kill the mosquito larvae before they hatch. No mosquitoes = no malaria. But since Dar is a city of about three million people they have to do this on massive scale, thus making it so unique.

Anyway, I went with the mosquito experts all around town, visiting mostly small swampy areas in densely-populated residential areas. But then we stopped at an area that was reportedly one of their biggest challenges to treat – massive sewage lagoons that are no longer in use, but can still collect rain water where mosquitoes breed. So, we get out of the car and are walking across a muddy, open area toward the large, mostly-empty man-made ponds, when one of the guys turns and says something to me. Since accents can often hinder ones understanding, I thought he said something about a field, and innocently called back to him, “What about the field?” He and his colleague chuckled aloud, and the other guy, who spoke perfect English, stopped and said back, “He was telling you to be careful because you are walking on feces.”

Now, what does one say to that, or even do in such a situation? I knew they were partly teasing me and the sewage had been treated and buried, just like any old landfill anywhere. But still! I paused only for a moment, looking down at the over-sized white boots they’ve loaned me (God only knows why they have white boots for such a nasty job), and thinking of the semi-heavy camera bag on one shoulder. I knew the odds were in my favor for a fall any second – either from stumbling in the big rubber boots or the shock of now knowing what I was *really* standing on.

And it was at that moment that I tapped into that part of myself that so often kicks in and overrides my natural inclinations, making me be able to do what I do and go where I’ve gone. And in the best Swahili I could muster, I looked back at them, shrugged my shoulders and said, “Hakuna matata.” No worries. And I kept right on walking…


But here are just a few glimpses into Tanzania before I go...

a child hospitalized with malaria

the Stonehenge/moon rocks jutting from behind a traditional hut

cute smiling faces everywhere, as always

sunset over Lake Victoria