Our last day in Dar we drove up the coast to a town called Bagamoyo. Our first stop was at a US Aid primary school that focused on environmental education. While the campus still faced many challenges, such as no electricity in classrooms and an inadequate amount of furniture, it was very different from the other campuses we had seen.

This was the first primary school we had seen with a library! The library was decorated in a very charming way and was bright and appealing to be in. The teachers and students at the school had thought of a creative solution to the scarcity of books to read. The teachers and their class wrote, illustrated, and built large picture books to put in the library for all students to share and enjoy.

The school also had a computer lab with about ten (very outdated) computers. In the lab they had a TV and sets of interactive science videos to show their students. It is amazing how much more these schools can do with just a little bit of money and support.

After the school visit we went by the first Catholic church built in East Africa. We also visited a building that used to house slaves before they were shipped to Zanzibar to be sold. Slaves were taken from all over East Africa and crammed in to small quarters for days before they were loaded on to the ships. Our guide also took us by the spot where any African revolutionary who opposed the German colonizers rule was hung.

That night we returned to our hotel and all gathered around a TV in the hotel bar to watch the World Cup final game. About 675 miles away, in Kampala, Uganda, people congregated at a rugby club and an Ethiopian restaurant to do the same. These spectators, however, would never finish the game. With about ten minutes left in the match, two bombs were detonated in both places, killing over 70 people and injuring many others. The acts are being claimed by a leader from a Somali militant group al-Shabab.

I hate to sound callous, but a month ago, if someone would have told me about these attacks, while I would have thought they were sad, I probably would not have given them a second thought. Today it was a different story. The people watching this World Cup game were not soldiers at war – they were citizens, both locals and tourists alike. Just like us, they sat down to enjoy a few drinks and cheer on the soccer teams. In 1998 Tanzanians experienced similar terrorist attacks – bombings at the US Embassy at Dar es Salaam – just down the street from our hotel.

For the first time, those people who were harmed on the other side of the world – could have been me. Why does it take traveling halfway around the planet to get me to understand the sadness and fear that should be so painfully obvious?

Another lesson learned on this trip – I hope I never again can distance myself emotionally from the pain and terror others experience just because they are distant to me in location.

Our next journey took us on an 8 hour drive to Dar es Salaam. I have been so amazed by the diversity of the land here in Tanzania. In Moshi there are chains of mountains leading up to the climax of Kili. Near Arusha the weather is cool with rows and rows of sunflower fields. Serengeti is a vast grassland.

Dar is a big city (high rises and all!) that rests on the edge of the Indian Ocean. It is hot. It is humid. It is buggy. It has the worst traffic I have ever seen in my life. One of the guides on our trip who lives in Dar has a home that is 14 miles from his work. It takes him 2 ½ hours to get to work everyday – one way. I am sure there is lots to see and do in Dar, however, most of our experiences there involved sitting in traffic. Despite the rush hour traffic that went on 24 hours a day, we did see a few really interesting things during our stay.

Our first day in Dar we visited a village that had a Women’s Initiative Loom Factory. The men and women of the village used the looms to make beautiful scarves, sheets, tablecloths, and clothing. The profits from the sales went toward benefiting the women and children of the village. The looms were an amazing piece of machinery! Watching them work at the looms was incredible. It was a full body workout – using both arms and legs to get the job done. Just to thread the loom took five hours!

Our next day in Dar we visited a village museum that had models of the types of houses people indigenous to the area live in. The homes were built with very different materials from palm leaves, mud, sticks, and even cow dung! I was blown away by the size of some of the homes considering the materials they were made from. Many of the homes had a loft inside. It definitely says something to me about the creativity and engineering skills of the different tribes. I would cringe to see the 5 room house I would attempt to make with just sticks and cow dung. Several of the tribes are polygamous and would have different bedrooms, or even houses, for the junior and senior wife.

I can’t wrap my mind around how different my life could be if I was born in a thatched hut in Tanzania instead of a hospital room in Texas. We all live in the same world just oceans apart, with the same date on our calendars, but we have such drastically different ways of going about our everyday life. Despite experiencing these differences first hand, I find the world has become a much smaller place. Without talking I found many ways to speak the same language with the people here. The laughter of a child, the smile of a stranger, the encouraging nod of a teacher as she helps a student, the gasps in awe as both mzungo(foreigners) and locals alike spy a cheetah on the prowl , all transcend the barriers of language and location. I find my soul hungry to experience more of the world everyday and longing to celebrate what an amazing place this planet we call home is.

It’s so easy to turn on the faucet and drink clean water.

It’s so easy to eat food and know it will not make me sick.

It’s so easy to flip on the air conditioning when I get hot.

It’s so easy to live each day without worrying about how a small bug bite might change my life.

It’s so easy to forget how good I have it.

It’s so easy

for me.

Upon returning to Kigali to wrap up our trip, we met and had dinner with a US Embassy representative. She had spent the past two years in Kigali, and had grown to love Rwanda. I too, found much to love.

The country appeared very clean. Rwanda has become a remarkably peaceful and safe place considering their past, and everyone in our group agreed that Rwandans take pride in their country.

Rwanda also has an extremely efficient and effective system for passing out medication to those living with HIV in AIDS. Even citizens who live in rural and remote areas receive medication on a routine basis.

56% of Rwanda’s parliament is made up of women – this is the highest percentage of women in parliament out of any country in the world!

Perhaps what most touched me was Umugada. The last Saturday of every month all shops and businesses close. From around 8 am to lunch time all members of every community participate in community projects – repairing schools, cleaning up the village,etc.

Despite the beauty of the country and its people, I couldn’t help but still feel the effects of the genocide during my visit. In Tanzania, I have been overwhelmed by the warmth and friendliness of its people. While everyone we met in Rwanda was very polite and kind, there was a radical difference in they way they treated our group. In Tanzania, every person we drove by would wave at us. Children ran up to our cars, shouting loud greetings. In Rwanda, the people kept to themselves.

Each time I saw a person over the age of 20, I couldn’t help but think of the painful memories they possess. We saw many people who were missing limbs – feet, arms, legs. How do they walk alongside people everyday who contributed to the genocide?

Justice has been a complicated process post-genocide. Many judges were murdered during the genocide or fled into exile. In 1997, there were only 50 lawyers in the country! War crime tribunals continue being held in both Arusha, Tanzania and the Hague for more serious war crimes (planners and organizers of the genocide, notorious murderers, those who committed sexual torture and violence, etc.)For less serious offenses, many communities also participate in GACACA. GACACA is a traditional model of dispute resolution indigenous to the area. In the past it was used to solve problems over land, marriage, cattle, or petty theft. The judges are elected by the community. If people admit to their crimes they are given a lighter sentence. Sentences vary from life (very rare) to as little as one year. After their time is served, they are able to return to their communities and live a regular life.

How do you ever learn to trust your neighbor again, when you saw them commit such atrocious crimes? How do you not live your life full of hate, when the very people who harmed your family and friends walk free? Many in the country suffer from depression, anxiety, and emotional/ mental problems as a result. Sadly, Rwanda does not have enough man-power or facilities to help people suffering with these problems.

My trip to Rwanda gave me an understanding for the word genocide that I never had before. While I had visited Germany, the events of the Holocaust seemed so far away, they didn’t hit me with as great a force as they did in Rwanda. To visit a mere 16 years after genocide occurred, and to see the raw emotion and life- changing effects first hand is an experience, while sad, that I am grateful for. The resiliency of the human spirit and the immense strength people have to show forgiveness and go on living their lives humbles me.

Every human has the right to live their lives free of fear and violence. Every person on this earth holds a responsibility to themselves and each other to make sure that happens. Rwanda has adopted the slogan “Never Again” regarding the genocide. The international community turned their back when Rwanda needed them most. It is my hope that with education and greater awareness, the rest of the world will commit to “Never Again” as well.

The next few days of our journey in Rwanda took us to Butare. Butare is a town about 2 hours southwest of Kigali. It is home to the National University of Rwanda, which was the only university in Rwanda for many years. This has made Butare known as the intellectual capitol of the country.

We arrived in Butare July 4th weekend, which ironically, is also Rwanda’s Liberation Day – their own version of July 4th. July 4th marks for Rwanda the day 16 years ago, that genocide ended, and a new government was born. We attended a community celebration in Butare that had live music and dancing. We also heard a live broadcast of the president giving a speech in Kigali. In his speech he honored several people, both living and those who had passed on, that had fought for justice and saved lives during the genocide.

The following day we visited the National University of Rwanda. The university has around 11,500 students and is the only public university in the country. It is the only school in Rwanda to offer a PhD program. It is the largest employer in the nation. Many question what will be the future of the university. Many specialist schools are being consolidated. For example, the school of education has been moved from Butare to Kigali. Also, enrollment at the university is not high enough to finance the school. Many students cannot afford to pay tuition and therefore apply for loans and scholarships. Most loans and scholarships, however, are offered in science or education. Decreased enrollment in many departments has caused them to shut down – including the African History and Language Department.

While at the university, we visited a genocide memorial there dedicated to students and staff who were killed during the genocide. Especially heart – breaking to hear is that many people fled to Butare when the genocide began, thinking the university would be a safe haven. It wasn’t. Instead fellow students attacked each other. In fact, even today there are staff and students at the university who knew of the plot by Hutus to take over the campus, but did not stop it from happening. There are woods surrounding the campus where many Tutsi students and staff hid out to escape the bloodshed.

We also visited a secondary school in Butare. The school was originally started as a private catholic school, but had been so successful (many Rwandan leaders graduated from this school) that the government took it over. Compared to other campuses we had seen, this school had vastly more supplies. They had a computer lab filled with at least 30 computers inside (all with internet!). They had a science lab with adequate supplies including Bunsen burners and human body models. They even had a beautiful, hotel-worthy swimming pool!

Despite these obvious advantages, the school systems in Rwanda are facing great challenges. The whole country is moving to English only education next year for all secondary schools. This is highly problematic, as not all teachers speak English! The main languages of Rwanda are French and Kinyarwanda. Almost all the teaching supplies – text books, posters, teaching aids – are in French. We had a roundtable discussion with the teachers at this secondary school and I was amazed by their determination in taking on this challenge next year. Several of the teachers asked us if we had any ideas about how to ease this transition. All I could think of was my experience teaching at a highly bilingual school in Texas. We were so quick to transition students from Spanish to English, and many times what would happen is our students would end up not truly fluent in either. I certainly hope this is not what will happen to the students in Rwanda.

It scares me how quickly the whole world seems to be moving to English. Don’t get me wrong – there is great value in being able to share a common language with others for communication purposes. I just worry about students losing a valuable part of their identity – their native language – in their quest to learn English. In my travels I always find it quite humbling to be in another country and the person from that country can speak to me in English and I can’t reciprocate in their native language. I think it is high time the United States recognizes the value of learning other languages just as much as the rest of the world does.

And now, to end with a joke my middle school Spanish teacher told me:

What do you call someone who can speak two languages?

Bilingual.

What do you call someone who can speak three languages?

Trilingual.

What do you call someone who speaks only one language?

A U.S. citizen.

We flew in to Kigali around 10:30 at night. As soon as we landed I could already tell a few differences between Tanzania and Rwanda. The city was glittering with lights, (unlike the quiet town of Moshi) and set in beautiful rolling hills.

In the morning we took a city tour. We went by the parliament house, the Ambassador Row (where all the UN ambassadors live), city center (where the Hotel Mille Collines is located), and the genocide memorial.

For those who may not be aware of the history of genocide in Rwanda (because I did not know a whole lot before this trip) here is some background information:

In Rwanda there were three main tribal groups: the Twa, the Hutu, and the Tutsi. By the 15th century, the Tutsi had established a monarchy in the country. Although Tutsi made up a minority of the population, they dominated the country politically and financially. The Hutu could use Tutsi cattle in exchange for providing service to the Tutsi.

After the Conference of Berlin in 1885, Rwanda was assigned to Germany. The Germans helped to expand Tutsi control over the Hutu. After World War I, Belgium was mandated to supervise Rwanda. They reduced the power of the Tutsi, but still continued to favor the Tutsi over the Hutu. They also started requiring all citizens to carry identification cards based off of ethnicity (Tutsi or Hutu).

The Belgians continued to have trusteeship of Rwanda after World War II, but were mandated to involve Rwandans in the political process. Tutsis pushed for independence from Belgium. Hutus pressured Belgium to help them create their own political party. Around this time, the Tutsi king mysteriously died. The Tutsis became suspicious of the Hutus and acted out violently against them.

The Hutu political party won in the first national elections in 1960, and the monarchy was ended in 1961. The first president was a Hutu. This marked the beginning of Hutu dominated politics until 1994. Although Rwanda was now a republic, democracy was based on a demographic majority, the Hutu. Tutsis were excluded from positions of power in government and the military, and the Tutsi knew if they wanted to live in peace, they should not aspire to reach power.

From 1962 into the 1990s violent attacks are made on Tutsis. Tutsis are forced from schools and the National University. A one party system is created in 1975 and all Rwandans are required to join. During this time many Rwandans flee the country to find refuge in Uganda, Burundi, and other countries. Hutus publish a paper and broadcast from a radio station promoting “Hutu Power” and spreading a hate campaign against the Tutsi.

In April of 1994, the Rwandan president, Habarimana (at Hutu) traveled to Tanzania to work on a peace agreement. His plane was shot down while flying back in to Kigali, and he was killed. The Hutu blamed the Tutsi, and the country became overcome with bloodshed. Between April to July between 800,000 to 1,000,000 lives were taken. The killing rate has been estimated as three hundred-three murders an hour or five and a half lives taken every minute. This killing surpassed the rate of the Nazi genocide in WWII, and was the largest mass killing since the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The genocide left 400,000 widows and 500, 000 orphans in its wake.

The visit to the museum touched me in such an intense and life changing way. The first level of the Genocide Museum in Kigali explained the history leading up to the genocide, and how the genocide was able to occur. The second level of the museum showed the impact and story behind other genocides that have happened across our world (like Nazi Germany and Kosovo). While the entire museum was informative and moving, there were two particular exhibits that left a lasting impression on me.

The first exhibit discussed people who had risked – and sometimes lost – their lives to help out Tutsis. One elderly women was able to harbor Tutsis because the people in town believed she was possessed by evil spirits. Whenever Hutu came by asking to search her house, she would tell them they were welcome to come in – and that the dark spirits would take them over. Another man dug large trenches behind his house that Tutsis would hide in. He covered the trenches with boards, and put dirt over the boards and planted crops in the dirt to keep the trenches hidden. It is astounding the courage some of these people displayed, knowing they could be brutally murdered at any minute for hiding Tutsis.

It seems absolutely ludicrous that these individual people were able to show such bravery and compassion while the rest of the world turned their backs on Rwanda. UN commander Lt.Gen.Dallaire estimated
that as few as 5,000 troops with authority to enforce peace could stop the genocide. Instead, the UN mission was recalled. The United States and the UK debate and decide not to use the word genocide in a Presidential Statement on the situation. Secretary General Boutros – Ghali in an interview on Nightline stated is was a question of genocide in Rwanda during the peak of the killings. How could the rest of the world be a spectator to these vile and inhumane acts?

One of the most horrifying tragedies surrounding genocide is that no one is spared – including the children. The final exhibit of the museum was dedicated to them – those that would have been the future of Rwanda. The exhibit was full of large, full color photos of different children lost to the genocide. The photos were donated by family members, and some of the photos were the only picture the family had of their child.
Beneath each child was their name along with some information about them, including how they were killed:

Name: Francine
Age: 12
Favorite Food: chips and mayonnaise
Favorite Hobbies: Going to school, drawing, soccer
Best Friend: her older sister, Claudette
Last words said: “Mom, where can I run to now?”
Cause of Death: Hacked by machete

I broke down about half way through the children’s memorial. I can’t remember the last time I cried that hard – a large, guttural , heart-wrenching sob. I cried for the physical pain and terror these children experienced. I cried for the life and future that these children will never know. I cried at the unfairness of a lost childhood – one that should have been about playing with friends and going to school, but was about pain, suffering, and fear. I cried tears of anger – how could our world have let this happen and not only denied there was a genocide but also denied giving aid to our most innocent beings?

The genocide occurred in 1994. I don’t remember one teacher at my middle school talking to my class about it.

We have a responsibility as human beings – no matter who we are or where we live – to educate ourselves and others about what it means to be human. Humans are capable of both equally appalling and miraculous acts. What gives us the title “human”, however, I like to think is the latter. While we cannot change the atrocities that occurred in Rwanda, we can educate so that genocide does not need to repeat itself. The value of human life is far too great to not to.

Visiting the Serengeti is something I always dreamed of doing but never knew if I would actually do – much less spend the night there! I was told when I came to Africa to come with no expectations, but I have to admit that I had pretty big expectations in my head surrounding the Serengeti – and every expectation was met!

We had literally not been in the park for more than a minute when we saw a cheetah feasting on a recent kill. We spent our days driving through the park peering out the roof of our Land Cruiser looking at lion cubs, crocodiles, wildebeests, leopards dragging their recent kill into a tree, elephants nursing their young, giraffes, zebras, baboons, gazelle, dik diks, and bustards (yes, those last two are actually the names of real animals we saw).

We spent our nights eating dinner in a large tent by candlelight. We had game meat for several of our meals (Thompson‘s gazelle, impala, and some unknown creature called a wildecow – all are actually very tasty, tender, and taste like beef). We slept in what I would call luxury tents. We each had a queen sized bed with a mosquito net and an attached private bathroom. The staff was so quick to boil you water for a warm shower, and the toilets were the most sophisticated outhouses I have ever seen!

Probably a tie with the animals for the most amazing sight I saw on that trip was the stars. I don’t know that I have ever seen so many stars at once – a sea of glittering diamonds across the sky. There is something so serene and peaceful about sleeping outside. The cool night breeze mingled with the calming harmony of insects singing their good nights made for the best nights’ sleep I had had since I arrived in Africa. Even the occasional hyena cry rght outside our tent couldn’t keep me up for long.

Could anyone ask for a better birthday present? It was the most memorable birthday in my 29 years 🙂

On the way back from the Serengeti we made two really interesting stops. First stop was the Shifting Sands, which are aptly named. The Shifting Sands is a large black volcanic ash sand dune that they have been recording movement of since 1956. The whole dune is moving! Erosion and deposition has caused the dune over to move 2 to 5 meters a year. Another strange fact about the dune is that the sand is magnetic!

Oldupai Gorge (often incorrectly called Olduvai Gorge) is called the cradle of life. This is where the first discovered specimens of Homo habilis have been found. Besides the bones there is also stone tools, marks, and a building site. The Museum of Oldupai Gorge contained some interesting paleontology exhibits. One is a photo and cast of the footprints discovered by Mary Leakey at Latoli that evolutionists think might establish a link between humans and primates.

The morning after we left Ngorongoro crater, we drove to visit a Maasai village. I felt very conflicted after my visit there.

There are many things I admire about the Massai. They leave a very small ecological footprint. They use no electricity, do not clear land to grow crops, and do not eat wild game animals. They move their villages every few years and this helps ensure that they do not overuse any one area of land. They have a respect for nature and the village we saw was kept very neat with no littering or waste strung about. The way they dress is beautiful and they make gorgeous beaded jewelry that you can find all over Tanzania. When we arrived at the village they were so welcoming. They invited us in to their homes to see how they slept and worked. They sang beautiful songs and performed graceful dances for us.

However, as a self-proclaimed feminist, there were some things I just could not get over. I wanted to approach their way of life through a cultural lens, and to try to be open minded about everything I saw, but as a 21st century female I couldn’t help but question: Where do we draw the line between culture and oppression?

The men spend months at a time away from their wife and children going out into nature where they eat and smoke meat, bringing some of the meat back to their families. In the mean time, the women watch the children, tend to the homes, gather food , water, and wood, make clothes for their family, and create jewelry to sell (their biggest source of income). As I mentioned earlier, they are a nomadic people and whenever they set up a new village the women are responsible for building the homes. The women sleep in the home with the children (and they keep their family goat in the house with them too!) .

While the women are the ones who make the jewelry, the men are the ones who get to go to town to sell it. Because they travel to the cities, all the men know how to speak their tribe’s language as well as Swahili and English. All the women we met had only ever learned the tribe’s language while all the men spoke English and they were the ones who led us on the tour.

The Massai are a group who participates in circumcision ceremonies. They start at the age of 15 or later. While the government has banned the Maasai from circumcising women, they still engage in the practice with men. Men are not allowed to scream, cry, or even flinch when the circumcision happens or they will never be considered a true man in the tribe. They will not be allowed to get married or have children.

We also visited the Maasai kindergarten school which brought a whole new set of concerns. The Tanzanian government has required the Maasai to send their children to school. This was a conflict for a while, due to the Maasai believing this conflicted with their tribal beliefs. All Maasai children now attend kindergarten through 7th grade. They will learn Swahili and some English.

The “school” we got to see was a small shack with four walls and no floor or ceiling. The walls were made with sticks with large holes in between the sticks causing dust to fly in the classroom getting in the students’ eyes. The only resources the classroom had was a small chalkboard and chalk. The students sat on the dirt floor on small logs. The classroom was by far the most pitiful classroom I have ever seen, but it’s condition paled in comparison to that of the children.

Oh, the children! In the kindergarten there were about 20 or so students ages 2 to 8. They were covered in dust and dressed in dirty, hole-filled rags. It was clear that many of the children were in desperate need of medical care. They were so excited for our visit, clinging to our hands, each eagerly reaching out for a hand-shake, high-five, or hug. They were so curious about the clothes we were wearing. One child was so fascinated with the zipper on my fleece I could not get him to turn around for a picture because he kept incessantly zipping the zipper up and down.

I became angry. The adults in the village were so clean and well – kept. They were dressed in their colorful garb and covered with their elegant beaded jewelry while their children were covered in grime and tattered rags with their noses dripping and eyes crusted closed.

I spoke with some native Tanzanians to get their perspective on the Maasai women and got two very different responses. One woman, who was born and raised in Tanzania but now resides in the United States, found the Maasai lifestyle liberating for women. They were able to run the household as they pleased without men meddling in their affairs. Another woman I spoke with, who currently is living in Dar, felt very much the same way I did, and when we visited the village she was questioning the women on their ways of life.

A large part of traveling is learning to step out of our comfort zone and recognize that our ways are not always the norm. But when does justifying actions as “culture” become oppressive?

Today we drove to the Ngorongoro crater. On our way we stopped to eat lunch at Snake Park. This reptile park reminded of a reptile park you might see in the states with the exception of the insane amount of venomous snakes on display – snakes that are all found in Tanzania! Some of the snakes (such as the black mamba) have been known to kill people in a matter of minutes!

After the snake park we visited the Maasai Culture Museum. It was an extremely fascinating visit. The Maasai are people indigenous to Tanzania. They live off the land as hunters and gatherers. They are a nomadic group, building a village and using it for a few years before they move on to another area and rebuild their village. They do not hunt the wild game animals found in the national parks (such as zebra, lions, wildebeests, etc.). If you have ever watched Travel Channel’s show Bizarre Foods when they visited Tanzania, then you might know one of their diet staples – coagulated cow blood mixed with milk. Yum!

On our way out of the museum there were camels you could ride for 1.000 shillings (about .60 cents US). Riding a camel proves to be much more challenging than riding a horse! Then it was off to the crater.

I find it interesting that while many people have heard of Serengeti National Park, few have heard of Ngorongoro crater. I was one of those people before this trip.

The crater is located in the East African Rift Valley. For you non geology majors out there, this is an area that has diverging plates underneath it, which causes volcanoes to form. Most of the volcanoes are inactive now. The Ngorongoro crater is an inactive volcano that has collapsed forming a huge crater called a caldera. The crater has been made into a national park and has become a haven for all kinds of animals including zebras, elephants, wildebeests, water buffalo, warthogs, lions, ostriches, hyenas, and hippos to name a few (and we saw all of those animals peering out from the roof of our Land Cruiser!). The park is not closed off and so animals are free to roam in and around the park as they please.

The Maasai tribe shares the crater with the animals. The Serengeti was originally home to many of the Maasai, but when the national government decided to declare the Serengeti a national park the Maasai were asked to leave. They were told if they moved to the Ngorongoro crater they would never be asked to leave, and so they accepted.

That night we stayed at the most beautiful lodge that rested on the rim of the crater. As the sun set we could sit on the deck of our hotel and peer down into the crater through our binoculars looking at herds of animals grazing. It was an amazing end to an amazing day.

We went on two different hikes today. The first hike was through the rainforests below Mt. Kilimanjaro. Along our hike we passed by several small caves built in to the sides of mountains. The caves were built many years ago when the Maasai and Chaga tribes (both groups of people indigenous to Tanzania) were at war with each other. The caves were used by the Chaga to hide in and store food and supplies.

At the end of our hike we reached the most beautiful waterfall. At the top of the waterfall was the statue of a young girl. The story surrounding the girl is legend in the Chaga. In the Chaga tribe chastity prior to marriage was very important. If ever two lovers were discovered to violate this vow of chastity, they would be placed one on top of the other, and then a spear would be thrust through both lovers into the ground. One girl, while not caught in the act, discovered she was pregnant and had to flee her village. When she left her village she was pursued by a leopard. Running as fast as she could, she did not see the cliff ahead of her and fell off to her death. The statue at the top of the waterfall is in remembrance of her tragic end.

Our second hike was like no other hike I have ever been on! While some of our group members chose to rest at the hotel, a group of us went on a supposed 2 hour hike with a Maasai guide to see colobus and blue monkeys in a forest near our hotel. At the beginning of our hike, our guide used his machete to cut down some tree branches and make walking sticks for each of us. Some group members refused the sticks, and I almost did too – I have done a bit of hiking on my own and didn’t really feel a stick necessary. He worked so hard to make all of our walking sticks and was so insistent I take one, I felt bad refusing. If I only I had known how grateful I would be that I made that decision later that afternoon!

The hike started out quite ordinary, our guide pointing out different types of plants and animals as we went. And then we arrived at the rice plantation.

It was absolutely gorgeous and very peaceful. Water fowl gracefully floated across the water, insects made their calming chirping sounds, and we were surrounding by rich, lush, tropical vegetation. It was the essence of tranquility – until group members started falling in the rice plantation.

I don’t know how many of you readers have ever hiked through a rice plantation, but let me tell you it is no easy task. The rice is grown in dark murky water with unknown creatures swimming in it, and so you have to walk on these tiny lines of muddy dirt between the rice patches. The dirt line was already thin and slippery to begin with, and on top of that some of the pathways had been washed over with water. This is where the sticks came in – you used them to pole vault yourself over flooded over pathways. It sounded fun to me, until my stick almost snapped in half under my weight on my first pole vault. Needless to say, over half of our group fell in the water at least one time. I managed to escape unscathed and good thing too – our guide found a black mamba in the water!

Again and again I am blown away by the friendliness and generosity of the people here. As our group attempted to make our way through the rice plantation, the workers there were quick to come over and lend a helping hand. They quickly gathered brush and tried to cover the flooded over pathways so we could walk over them. In return, we provided the day’s entertainment for them. I am sure we were quite a spectacle to see, falling in to the rice patties and screaming loudly when even a toe dipped into the waters. The rice plantation workers waded throughout the fields barefoot. Several of the women working in the field were in hysterics by the time we left. I am sure their families that night got a good laugh out of us too.

Luckily, the trek was worth it. The monkeys were amazing to see. After our initial rice patty experience, our guide wisely decided to take us on a new route home. We ended up walking through several villages. Our guide said it was highly likely that some of the children in these villages had never seen a white person before – and I think he was right. An adorable girl, who couldn’t have been more than 2 teetered to the edge of the fence outside her house to peer at us. One of the women in our group called out a cheerful “Hello”. The girl immediately burst out into wailing tears. As we walked further into the village we saw around 15 children playing ball in the street. Upon seeing us they all began screaming and running to the houses. Almost immediately we would see little faces pop into the windows of the homes curiously watching us parade through the town.

All in all, our “2 hour” hike took over 3 ½ hours.