TIDBITS

At the Arusha airport, while we were waiting for our pilot to fuel up that mini-plane, we were admiring the flowers and plants that were all around the fence that surrounded the fuel tanks when a young fellow of maybe 20 years old came up to us and asked us if we liked "the garden". "Mine" he said, pointing to his chest; "Mine". Turns out that he had planted the garden simply because he likes to garden, and then he showed us his pride and joy..this huge watermelon he had planted and cared for. He wanted us to know that his name was Petro and that he loves to plant things. All the people we meet want to know our names, and they want to tell us theirs. They will write it down on their hands and they will write their names on ours, or on any scrap of paper. And they all remember you when they see you again. It's sort of touching.

Before we took the Flying Medical Services plane, I wrote out 3 postcards to my family, just regular ones, but they were sort of a "just in case" the plane goes down. I didn't mention it to Nicole, I didn't want her to think that I thought we might crash in this little contraption, it didn't look any sturdier than one of those balsa wood planes that kids play with. Anyhow, I mentioned it to her a few days after, and she laughed and said she had done the very same thing!!

There is a goldmine near Haydom now--very primitive with shafts all dug by hand, and the men go down by a rope. The pay is not great, but it is much better than any other wage. So now there is an increase in drinking and drug abuse which then causes an increase in spousal abuse as well. The mine itself isn't very productive, and isn't causing any increase in the economy and a lot of people just hope it will close down, but apparently there are a lot of Arab investors who want to purchase it, and bring in professional miners and equipment and go deep enough to mine gemstones. There is quite a bit of debate going on about it.

The compound at Haydom tries to find employment for everyone. This morning as I was sitting outside my room writing in my journal, an old man came shuffling along carrying a long stick with a cloth on the end. "Jambo" he said, "I am looking for spiders, I kill the spiders here." and off he went, intently staring up at the roof, giving a sweep with his stick every now and then. I haven't seen any spiders in our room, so I guess he is doing a good job!

Sitting outside my room I can see the village to my left, directly outside the hospital fence, I can hear the people laughing and talking and getting ready to start their day, kids yelling and dogs barking. In front of me is the kitchen and eating area and I can hear the house girl singing as she prepares breakfast for us and to the right of me are some of the staff houses and their cleaning lady is playing African music which stirs the soul. It isn't hot yet and the local cat is sneaking through the grass trying to stalk a gecko that is sunning itself on the wall of the kitchen compound. The birds are making a soft little purring noise, sort of like a pigeon "cooing" and not another soul is around. I try to imprint this moment in my mind and to remember this Africa and these people. Last night we came outside and looked at the stars, they look so close and so bright...diamonds on black velvet. All you can hear are the crickets chirping and the silence of the sky, silence has a sound that fills the ears. We could see Orion the Hunter, the Pleides and Casseopeia, the same stars that I see at home are a faded imitation of these. It was a moment I hope to always remember, maybe when I am stressed at home I can dredge up how I felt on this day.

We wandered the compound and said our goodbyes, Elizabeth from the Norwegian Embassy who visited the village with me, Dr. Olson (who looks like William H Macy) and who has done such amazing work here, his mother, Mama Kari (as everyone calls her) who was recently awarded The Order of Norway from the King for her charitable work that she has done here; Anders who looks so much like Milton Berle that I want to call him Uncle Miltie, and Clementina who helped Nicole with all her arrangements in getting here.

We think that maybe the reason that this feels like such a community so quickly to strangers is because everyone who is here WANTS to be here, they all love what they do and it's an infectious feeling. I'd love to come back here myself someday.

At 9:50 our driver showed up to take us to the airstrip, our plane was to arrive at 10:00., however it didn't get here until noon. Originally it was to arrive at 9, but he phoned yesterday to say he would be an hour late as he had to pick up a patient, after all, it is a medical plane. He ended up getting here at noon as he had some other sort of delay. We had no plane to catch after this, so we were fine with the wait, the scenery is so beautiful that we just wandered around the airstrip and took a few pictures and sat and talked, completely forgetting that we were below the equator in the sub-Saharan sun and did Nicole's arms ever burn! No hats, no sunscreen, no sunglasses, no sense...but in our defence, we were supposed to wait for 10 minutes not 2 hours!

As we were waiting though, a cow wandered onto the runway and our driver had to hop in his vehicle, drive to the cow, hop out and chase it into the bushes and then drive back, ever vigilant for more runaway (or should I say "runway"?) cows.

We were pleased to have the same pilot as our flight in--we figured that anyone who could land a plane in that red, oozing, thick clay during a rainstorm has got to be an OK pilot!

The pilot pointed out Lake Manyara on the flight in, 2 days ago, and it was full of of water-he said when he flew to Haydom 2 days prior to that it was dry as a bone, and now today as we flew out, it was dry again. This drought is scary, water evaporates so quickly that it boggles the mind. Lake Manyara is part of our safari, so we are wondering how (or if) this will cause any changes or problems.

The flight was fine, a little bumpy in places but not too bad. I glanced at the pilot once to see him concentrating on cleaning his fingernails, no hands on the wheel. I know about auto pilot and that sort of thing, but still, it was pretty disconcerting. I just looked the other way and concentrated myself, on keeping the plane aloft through sheer willpower. It worked like a charm!

Back at the Impala we had yet another round of room woes. This time they had no record of us arriving today at all, and after a great deal of confusion they gave us 604 which was actually the smoking room with no fan that we were offered the last time we were here. However, after our sparse room in Haydom, and some of the things we saw, the room seemed quite luxurious so we simply asked for a portable fan and stated to settle in. Then the smoke came wafting out of the bathroom, the aroma is so strong that you would really think that someone is in there smoking. (you know...at night we hear this gentle rhythmic breathing. Each of us thought it was the other one until we realized that it happened even when the other one is not in the room!...Ghost Whisperer anyone? A newly departed smoker who can't leave the room?)

But, now I am out of time, so the room woes will continue tomorrow!

We had arranged for Razak to pick us up, and to our utter surprise, there he was, still waiting for us after a 2 hour delay, and no extra charge!

W