The Agrinautica

Two entries in two days! A modern miracle! Also, I've been having a thought. I now have a huge 250gb memory card for my phone, I reckon that could hold a lot of video. Previous attempts to video anything at all on trips filled my phone memory up after about five minutes of footage tops. I'm thinking of trying to do a video diary (or perhaps a "vlog" as the cool kids call it) on my next trip. I wouldn't be able to upload it until I get back because even in the first world uploading video is a beast, and I have zero video editing experience, but it might be interesting, and then instead of it taking six months for me to update, the update would already "be written," and just need uploading. Whaddaya think?


(Previously on Emo-snal: several hours of mild discomfort followed by forty minutes of terrifying hell)


Friday, November 6th, Day 34, Kampala, Uganda - We had a meeting at the US Embassy at 2pm. Realistically one might hope to get there within an hour from where I was, but knowing the traffic and Ugandan attitudes towards timeliness, I told Alex to pick me up at 11:00, three hours before our appointment. Alex's organization does development work in Uganda, but they had no relationship with the United States Agency for International Development (USAID), a major source of funding for development projects, so I had arranged this meeting. The nice woman working on USAID at the US Embassy had had a pretty busy schedule but managed to fit us in to a narrow window at 2:00, so I tried to emphasize to Alex that this was very important that we get there on time. I told him the day before, I told him earlier that morning.
   Needless to say, 11:00 came and went with no sign of him. I basically texted him every ten minutes after that asking where he was, as my own stress (and I really don't stress much) reached new levels of hysteria. 11:30 came and went. 11:45. 12:00. He always assured me they were "on their way" (I've commented on this before, it seems to be normal in Africa to lie and tell someone you're on your way when you aren't even anywhere NEAR getting on your way) 12:30. 12:45. Hyperventilation sets in.
   At 1:20 he FINALLY FINALLY rolls in with his colleague Emmanuel (in Emmanuel's car, Alex's still being at the hotel, he'd have to return again some time to finally retrieve it).
   Before we leave the leafy green confines of the Forest Cottages Hotel behind let me note that it was alright, it was leafy and green and pleasantly didn't feel like it was in the middle of the city, as it was ... but I still would recommend you stay in the Malakai Eco Lodge next time you go to Kampala, which is also leafy and green and full of beautiful gardens and ponds and.. really more garden than lodgingspace.
   But anyway, we were on our way. Being the middle of the day it wasn't the awful barely-moving rush hour traffic I had encountered the night before, but there's always traffic in Kampala. I was of course stressing out the whole time and sent the woman from the embassy an extremely apologetic email saying we may be late. But then, to Emmanuel's navigation and journey-estimating credit, we did actually arrive at the embassy just minutes before 2:00. It was remarkable, really.


   Next we were off to the bus stop! I was to catch a bus back to Nairobi, but not only that, but recall I had only intended to stay in Uganda for two days, and then Grace had returned to Nairobi and intended to send me more of my stuff. Well she did that, and Emmanuel was supposed to pick it up when it arrived in Kampala ... which.. he didn't. So now I had to retrieve my stuff from the bus company office just in time to take it back with me to Nairobi. As it happens, my bag had somehow been fairly mauled in transit, developing some gaping holes. So hooray for that completely useless transfer of stuff. But I had also had her send the beesuits I was going to use in Zanzibar, which, I had ended up staying in Uganda instead of returning to Zanzibar. So I gave these suits to Alex for his organization to use. So there was that at least. (and apparently, these bee suits being brand new (donated by Pierce Manufacturing in Fullerton California! Shout out!), apparently the bus company had wanted to charge Grace an extra hefty fee on them because they thought she was selling a product or some such mischief. I swear, getting anything done in Africa...)

   Anyway, and then I returned by overnight bus once again to Nairobi. Arriving in Nairobi I shrugged off the taxi drivers who tried to solicit me as soon as I stepped off the bus and walked a few blocks to the Kahama Hotel, in which I had stayed in 2014. The hotel I'd stayed in earlier in the trip in Nairobi had been a dingy dismal place, and Grace, bless her heart, is a "has the TV going all the time" kind of person which made me feel like I was literally going to lose my mind when I stayed with her so I decided to go with what I knew. Going into fast forward mode now, I had two or three days in Nairobi before my departure, during which I met up with several friends I hadn't had time to see in my earlier frenzied passes through Nairobi. And then:


Monday, November 9th, Day 37, Nairobi, Kenya - Let's start with a little confession, the earlier reported Giraffe Kisses and Giant Spoons actually happened this day, but was rearranged chronologically to fit the LJ Idol topics of the week.
   Anyway, after the elephant and giraffe adventures, phone-camera full of priceless photos of baby elephants, Grace and I found ourselves downtown needing to get home. It was dark (9pm?) and slightly raining. I was going to call an uber with my phone (which, at first I had just assumed uber wouldn't work in Nairobi but after being tipped off by another traveler I found it was really the best way to get around), but we were right by the bus station and Grace was impatient with my posh cab-taking ways, and convinced me to just come grab a bus with her. it would have been less than $6 for the uber and really not more than a five minute ride.
   There was a big crowd of people around the bus stop, and when a bus arrived the crowd would surge at the bus. It should also be noted that I had my big luggage bag with me because we'd stopped by a tailor to have its damages repaired (also just a few dollars. Oh also speaking of cheap Nairobi tailors, I had a nice custom tailored business suit made for me while I was there. Three piece suit for less than $100, it's quite fine! I got measured the first time I passed through Nairobi, tried it on the second time and the tailor noted adjustments that he had to make, and then picked it up this final pass through). So my arms were full with this bag (and the glorious giant wooden spoon I'd picked up earlier in the day). As a bus pulled up bound for our destination Grace bounded on to it, so any trepidation I had about the whole situation now I had no choice but to follow her on. She would later say she had tooold me she'd grab me a seat and I could have just boarded after the crush stopped.. but I didn't catch that. Anyway so as I'm caught in the crush, with my arms full, I felt my wallet levitating out of my pocket. Other pickpocket stories I've heard usually involve pickpockets so crafty that one doesn't notice the theft until hours later, but I definitely felt it, and it was the creepiest feeling. It didn't even happen fast, but with my arms full and a crush of people all around me all I could do is say "hey! HEY! HEY!!!" and by the time people had backed away from me enough for me to turn around or even get a hand to my pocket my wallet was gone. And what's worse, my phone and the whole trip's worth of pictures.
   Another woulda-shoulda-coulda that occurred to me far too late is, I could have had someone dial my number at that moment and some guilty party would be caught with a ringing phone. Oh well.
   My wallet had about $5 in it. By far the biggest loss was the photos on my phone. I texted my number from Grace's phone saying I'd pay them for my photos but never got a response. I also immediately called Wells Fargo from Grace's phone and so my cards were cancelled not ten minutes after the theft, so I hope they had fun with their five dollars.
   As it happens the only home phone number I had memorized was my parents house line which was "finally" cancelled just earlier in the year, so I couldn't tell them what happened. In fact the _only_ number I had memorized was my boss's. So I texted my boss to ask him for my mom's number (which he has because sometimes he forwards requests for speakers about bees for kids to her), and then I was able to call my parents, vent to them about what happened, and they set about cancelling my phone and other assorted necessities for me.
   Back at Grace's (I had checked out of the hotel since I was catching the flight at 4am), after the necessary actions had been taken, I entered kind of a catatonic level of shock. I know I know, it's not like someone died, there's worse problems, but the violation factor of having things stolen from my pockets and the loss of all my pictures was a pretty big deal to me. Not merely because I happen to really like pictures but in a very real way it was a problem -- I'd been fundraising all year for this project in Tanzania and now.. poof, I had lost 90% of the proof that I actually did it!!
   Grace offered me alcohol but when I'm really depressed only caffiene makes me feel better, so I had two red bulls while she drank a good amount of whisky on my behalf.
   At 1am our cab showed up and we proceeded to the airport. Fortunately there's no traffic at night. Grace had consumed a decent amount of whisky I guess and was feeling a bit of the effects-- she wrote her phone number down for me at least three times, and when I tried to decline the fourth time, just as we were pulling up at the terminal, she got mad thinking I didn't want to have her number and was thus mad at me as I exited the car and didn't really say goodbye.
   But then just after I had gone through the terminal entrance metal detector she comes running in after me in tears like a scene from a movie. It was cute.


Tuesday, November 10th, Day 38, Addis Ababa, Ethiopia - Arrived in Addis fairly early in the morning (I don't know, maybe 8?), with not a penny to my name. Now, on my way to Nairobi 38 days earlier I had planned an eight hour layover in Addis, but they wouldn't let me out of the airport even if I was willing to pay for a visa. When I changed my flights around I made sure to make sure I'd be able to get out of the airport, so I had gotten one of the earliest flights in that day and latest flight out (they don't DO overnight layovers apparently), and the assurance by the ticket agent that I'd be able to leave the airport -- in fact they charged me $78 in advance for the transit visa (which apparently comes with transportation to and from a hotel I can hang out with in the mean time). So You might be able to imagine my frustration when once again the airline agents at the airport refused to give me a transit visa. They said it wasn't in their computer and it wasn't on my receipt (which was a thick page of gobble-de-gook). I was very frustrated!! Finally I found the number "$78" among the jibberish on my ticket and demanded "okay what is this charge for??" and after scrutinizing it they sullenly said it looked like a transit ticket but was coded wrong .. and issued me my transit visa. Welcome to Ethiopia! I must say I love the country but every one of my experiences with their airport staff has been this kind of obstinate bureaucratic unhelpfulness.
   Rode the shuttle to the hotel they had booked me into, which was "nice" but the staff were as cold and unhelpful as the airline staff (in wild contrast to the hotel I'd have stayed in if I had a choice, where every single staffmember was memorable and friendly). My first goal once I'd set my bags down there was to see if I could go get some money. Grace had given me 2000 Kenyan shillings, about $20, which constituted a significant portion of her monthly rent. This was the only thing I had by way of money. As it happens the hotel was just a short walk from several different international business banks .... not ONE of which would exchange Kenyan shillings, the currency of their neighboring country!! So I was left pennyless in Ethiopia. (When I got home I immediately wired Grace $100 to repay her $20)
   It was an interesting experience. I so very very badly wanted just one cup of the wonderful coffee they have in Ethiopia ... I couldn't afford even just one cup. Usually traveling in places like Addis one feels a bit like a millionaire, I can do absolutely whatever I please without the least fear it will dent my wallet. Take a taxi anywhere, take a dozen people out to dinner, whatever. I tried to look at it as a cultural experience. Being penniless in an African city.
   Next I returned to my room and posted this entry which I'd been slowly slowly working on during the trip.

   Next my plan was to meet up with my friend Addis. She came to see me at the hotel but I felt really bad being utterly pennyless. I had a meal voucher at the hotel but I couldn't even buy her coffee!!! I felt awful.
   For dinner I had a meal voucher at the hotel, so we ate there. Though I told her that she'd have to pay for her own meal somehow this didn't get across correctly, because she ate too but then couldn't afford to pay for her meal (which was only like $5!!!), and despite the miniscule amount of money involved, I couldn't help either!! I felt awful x10! And on top of that the hotel shuttle for the airport was leaving just then and I had to get on it. She called a friend or family member to come bail her out and I had to run. I felt so so terrible for leaving her in the situation, for the entire situation, but there was nothing I could do! I had to run!! ):
   ...so as soon as I got home I wired her $100 as well, which hopefully ameliorated her anger, she wasn't very happy with me in the immediate aftermath.


One last penniless misadventure:
Wednesday, November 11th, Day 39, Dublin, Ireland - This time we were actually permitted and required to disembark the aircraft, go through a metal detector, and reboard. after going through the screening area we were sitting in a little waiting area where there was a little airport cafe, which had a guinness tap. I hadn't set foot back in Ireland in 20 years so I would very very much have liked to have had a fresh Dublin guinness.... but... utterly penniless. ): So I could only gaze at it longingly.
   As it happens I got to talking to a young fella who was an Ethiopian who's been living in the United States, has a family there. After awhile I mentioned the Guinness tap and how I wished I had money, honestly without the least intention of soliciting a drink but he immediately thought having a guinness was a fantastic idea and volunteered to get us both a beer! ....... but then it turned out the tap was actually not hooked up at the moment. ): Almost!!!


   And then I returned to America. THE END!

Wednesday, October 21st, Day 17 - Moshi is a very peaceful town on the slopes of Mount Kiliminjaro. It is one of the most "suburban" places I've seen in Africa, with broad tree-lined streets under arches of overhanging jacaranda trees, whose purple-blue flowers float down to the ground.

   Moshi feels very safe. Usually. Finding myself in a pitch black street, the overhanging jacaranda blotting out the moon and stars, with three large dogs growling at me, it didn't feel so safe. I tried to continue on my way but every time I turned from them they'd start lunging at me. I considered walking back to the hotel, only half a block away now, but that would lead me back towards the epicenter of the area the dogs seemed to be guarding. I could barely make out their shape in the dark, but I'd seen them earlier in the day watching passersby warily from a neighboring yard that wasn't fenced -- I wouldn't say positively they were german shepherds but they were that shape and size, and now they were growling at me in a way that clearly meant business, in a dark deserted street.

   I tried to continue on my way and the pack leader made a snarling lunge for my back foot. I turned around and looked at it sternly, raising my arms a little to look bigger, and it crouched back growling angrily. Is this how I'm going to die? Mauled by domestic dogs in the peaceful town of Moshi?? I asked myself.



   The previous day I had left Dar Es Salaam by bus. It took approximately ten hours to get from there to Moshi. The bus ride was mostly uneventful, passed two crashed trucks, saw baboons two or three times. I noted that sometimes we would pick up someone selling nuts or drinks, typically somewhere we had to stop like a weigh station (they seem to be on the borders of every Tanzanian region), who would go up and down the aisles trying to make sales and then get off at the next weigh station, presumably catching a bus bound the other direction. The bus crew seemed to know these people very well. A related observation is that the busses always have a "crew" of two or three persons in addition to the driver, and even trucks in Africa seem to always have several people in the cab. When the cost of labor is insignificant compared to the value of the vehicle, might as well.

   Arriving in Moshi I went through the familiar routine of catching a taxi, who said he knew the hotel I wanted to be taken to but then did not, and tried to charge me three times what I knew it should have cost. The hotel I stayed in was the gaily coloured little place called Blue Acacia, with a lovely seating area out in front and a pretty garden. I have no pictures from this time because my DSLR battery was dead, power was very inconsistent, and all pictures on my phone were lost with the phone (yes I'll probably gripe about that in every single entry about this trip).
   Being the top reviewed location in town on tripadvisor and other sites, the hotel attracted all the travelers who were "in the know." And Moshi itself primarily attracts people who want to climb Kiliminjaro so there was a steady stream of fit young people coming in, meeting with their guides in the evening, and heading out early the next morning.
   That evening before it was dark I trotted down the street to the nearby Thai restaurant I'd been looking forward to getting back to for the entire last year. It was still there, with its tall thatched roof and spacious open patio (see interesting roof under-structure on right), but it was under new ownership and no longer a thai restaurant. It was good though and I ended up eating there twice more during my brief stay in Moshi, and every time the owner came by and chatted with me.


   It was this restaurant I was trying to reach for a late dinner the next night when I found myself beset by aggressive guard dogs on the street. I found that if I faced the dogs they would stay back but as soon as I turned they'd start lunging for me. I ended up mostly backing down the street until I reached the corner, which they seemed to regard as the extent of their territory. There I crossed one of the major streets by a round about and proceeded down a long dark block towards my favorite restaurant.
   It was around 10pm and no one was about. This block seemed to have construction sites on both side, which were darker than the night. As I walked down the street I was acutely aware in fact that no one was about, and the construction yards were full of places one could hide. Moshi is a very safe peaceful town, it really is, but it also strongly occurred to me that it would just take one unscrupulous thug who might be hanging around the construction yard at night to see a muzungu alone in a deserted area on a dark night and think it might be very profitable for them. I looked at my feet, instead of my sturdy black combat boots I was only wearing flip-flops for this little jaunt, which would severely hinder both running and kicking. I walked carefully, spinning around at any sound in the night.


   That morning I had lazily awoken enjoying a rare opportunity to sleep in a bit after 6am bus trips the past few days (two and a half weeks in and jet lag was still causing me to be pretty wakeful in the morning though). Enjoyed the complimentary breakfast of pancakes and fresh fruit. Despite being a coffee producing area they don't know how to brew coffee around there though. I was excited to actually see a coffee percolator but the coffee was insanely weak -- another guest later told me she saw the staff reusing the used coffee grinds.
   I was torn for awhile in the morning because there were still things to see in the Moshi area (despite my having spent a week there last year), notably a hot springs, and I felt like I should make the most of it, but I also really felt like spending a day relaxing in this beautiful place. Finally the latter idea won out and as other guests went off to climb the mountain or see the hotsprings I took my jolly sweet time eating breakfast and generally "chilling."
   That afternoon I walked downtown to look for somewhere that might sell a new lensecap for my camera. Since they get a fair number of tourists doing the mountain there's the accompanying annoying gnat-like hangers-on downtown, trying to hook tourists for their travel agency. As I walked along several tried to engage me in conversation but I kept going. One followed me for a fair ways trying to start a conversation with me in a friendly manner despite my ignoring him and walking along at a brisk pace. In Egypt I learned you can't say one word to these guys or they'll never leave you alone, but nowhere else I've been have they been as bad and I deigned to answer a few basic questions from this guy so as not to seem like a complete asshole ("where are you from?" "California" ... "here on safari?" "nope" ... "let me take you to my safari agency" "nope" ...) eventually he gave up but another one picked up his place in less than a block. The town's not big and by this point I'd gotten to one end of town and was headed back the other. Went through the same basic questions with this guy, he really wanted me to stop by his travel agency or let him book me to go to the hot springs. When he asked me what I was doing and I said I was looking for a lense cap he said he knew someone that sold them (of course) and since he claimed it was the direction I was going I let him guide me to it. Of course the guy didn't have them, tehre didn't seem to be a camera shop in town which I was rather disappointed about since it seemed likely enough in this kiliminjaro hub.
   I then let the guy guide me to a bus company office since I did need to get a ticket for a bus the next morning. It was kind of interesting because the posted rate was about twice the price I ended up paying but after talking to my "guide" the ticket agent said that the guide had arranged the lower price. (I think it was like $15-$20? I dunno all my notes were on my phone) After that I was headed back to the hotel, even though he seemed to have gotten me a good deal I was still anxious to shake the guy. About a block or two from the bus station the man said goodbye and with a handshake he was off .... and I was shocked! I was thoroughly entirely expecting him to put it hard to me for payment for his assistance -- and I wasn't opposed to it since he had gotten me a good deal on a ticket but I had still been not lookign forward to the issue coming up. And then he was gone and I was left wishing I _had_ had a chance to give him something. Now, he _probably_ got a cut from the ticket sale, even with the reduced rate -- especially since he could honestly say I was planning on going with a different bus company, because I had been, and he'd brought me there instead.

   Had lunch at the former thai place on the way back to the hotel, chatted briefly with the owner and continued down past the construction yards, across the big road, into the leafy green suburban neighborhood where some neighbors dogs lazily watched me go by, and back to the hotel.

   This is a bad idea, this is a bad idea, this is a bad idea, I had started repeating myself earlier when I met the dogs and it was still going through my head as I cautiously made my way down the dark street. Many times I thought about just going back but the dogs made that prospect unappealing.
   Fortunately I made it to the golden glow of the restaurant without incident. Unfortunately, they had just shut down their kitchen.
   "Ummmm, could you call me a cab?" I asked the owner, "it's a bit sketchy out there," he was shocked I'd even attempted to walk around out there. Moments later he came back with a taxi driver who I believe was just finishing eating there anyway. The driver drove me back to the hotel, which took merely a minute or two, and declined to even charge me for so short a trip. He seemed nice, I took his name and number down for next time -- now lost with my phone.


View looking up from the main road at Kiliminjaro (picture from last year)

Thursday, October 22nd, Day 18 - Early the next morning I took a taxi down to the bus station, got on a small shuttle-bus (as opposed to the greyhound style coach buses I'd taken to and from Dar Es Salaam), the Moshi-Arusha-Nairobi route seems to be entirely done by these smaller busses for some reason. It took us two hours or so to get to Arusha, where we had to board a different bus, and who should be on that bus, and not only that but with an open seat right next to her, but the girl I sat next to on the Nairobi to Arusha leg two weeks earlier! This was a bizarre coincidence especially since we hadn't discussed what days we were returning, and I'd been playing my return entirely by ear, and I would have taken a different bus line anyway if that guy hadn't intervened! She got a mention in the earlier entry just because she was the source of the hot tip that Uber works for getting rides in Nairobi (you get much better rates that way I really recommend it!). She had also stayed at the Blue Acacia when she was in Moshi in fact! But she was on an opposite circle from me, starting in Moshi and ending in Arusha before returning to Nairobi.
   And then we arrived in Nairobi, or as many call it, "Nai-robbery," as I would soon find out...

( Pictures from in and around Moshi last year )

( Relive last year's adventures! All entries tagged Moshi )