Unseen Jamaica

It might have been easier to continue posting about the Amizade WVU students' progress on the classroom which was started yesterday, but instead I wanted to show some quiet scenes of the surrounding countryside which shows a Jamaica not found in flashy tourist brochures.

The top two pictures are taken on the main highway that connects Montego Bay with the Southern and Western part of the island where I presently am. What is significant here is that the area is mountainous, tropical, and rather unpopulated. Unlike Tanzania, the street is paved and not clogged with a stream of people pushing or carrying all kinds of items on their heads. The lady in the top photo is not carrying water but is wearing a large yellow sun hat to contrast her hot pink dress. Everyday the temperature has been in the high 80's with some serious humidity, so if you're not a heat lover, I suggest you travel elsewhere.

The third photo shows the landscape around the corner from the housing tract where I live. The empty carts are used to transport sugar cane, which can be seen in the background. This cane was planted in January and will be harvested next year at this time, when it is over three times as tall.

The last photo is of a little beer stand near my lodging. I'm not sure when it opens or if it opens. Such spots dot my road and, in the evening, has patrons socializing, drinking or loudly pounding dominos on the counter during lively games.

Tomorrow I promise to "people" my post, but please understand, I have not yet found the proper opportunity to snap a photo of a serious dredlocked Rastafarian, and may avoid such an encounter for the sake of, let's say,disgression. I like you guys, but.....................!

Makin' Jamaica Magic

Yesterday I went to the airport at Montego Bay to meet 15 students from West Virginia University who arrived to begin a weeklong program at the Amizade site in rural Petersfield, Jamaica. For me this is the fourth location where I am lucky enough to immerse myself in a different culture and also am priveleged to watch young American students participate in a worthy project benefitting the world's disadvantaged.

The top picture, snapped early this morning, shows a handful of the volunteers at the Galloway Basic School. Over the next week these WVers will help a mason and carpenter work on building a new classroom. Today though, it was time to meet the children. For some of the volunteers, this is their first trip outside of America and, for others, it is their first time living amidst third world people. Any stiffness, that may appear in their postures as the group is introduced to some first graders, quickly melted away.

The second photo shows one of many similar scenes I witnessed this morning. Hidden in the circle of lovely children is an Amizade volunteer, whose hair is being braided. Every American student could be seen playing with or tutoring these children and thereby becoming more comfortable in this new environment. These children are, for the most part, from families of the working poor, that spend long hours in the sugarcane fields or factories. They were so appreciative of the attention given them by these "strangers.".

The third photo shows the underpinnings of a new classroom on which the Amizade students will provide labor. Through the relentless lobbying effort of our host, the Community of Clubs, the Jamaican Education Ministery provided the initial funds for new classrooms for this school. Yet this space quickly became immediately insufficient and overcrowded. This exceptionally impoverished community, like other sites I have witnessed throughout the world, depends entirely on the resources of its own community in the form of money, materials and volunteers to provide its children with quality education.

By the way, in the background, is an amazing tree. It is the Silk Cotton or Ceiba Tree and is one of the largest trees in the Carribean. Myths abound regarding these trees, as our Jamaican host explained. The silken fibers which hang freely when the fruit ripens catch the souls of the dead. To fell one of these behemoths may precipitate your untimely demise.

My mind is so full of thoughts and impressions formed by the people I meet, I could write all night, but I'll spare you. Suffice to say, this part of my adventure has again such rich moments.

My blog gives me an opportunity to preserve some these moments, to share them, and to remind me later on that this trip was not a dream.

Jamaica, mahn!

For the next several days I'll be posting from Jamaica and showing you a world that is rarely seen by tourists. I am 40 miles South of the luxury hotels of Montego Bay in a small community called Petersfield. The sign on the wall is written in Patois, the mixture of English, French and Creole that the local people speak. I catch a few words but for, the most part, I understand little.

It has been quite a transition from Africa through Hong Kong and New York to here. For brief moments I feel like I'm in Tanzania because all the people are black and the landscape is quite tropical like in Karagwe, but the similarities end rapidly. The Jamaican tempo and mannerisms are remarkably different. I feel a much more agressive mood in the air and there is virtually no interest in me as an American.

This is a big island 150 miles South of Cuba is separated by miles of ocean from the rest of the Carribean nations. After it received independence in 1962, it suffered economicallywith the caprice of the sugar cane market, then controlled entirely by foreigners. Now tourism and the receipt of moneys sent from relatives in America make up the bulk of Jamaica's income.

When visiting last night with a high school history teacher, I asked about Jamaica's most important historical figures. He believed that no one has made a greater impact on Jamaica more than Bob Marley. Ask anyone and they'll tell you that Marley put Jamaica on the map. Jamaica is all about its music. It is blasted from cars, stores and people are dancing and singing at all hours. The knowledge that their music is adulated throughout the world has given this former colony of slaves a powerful identity and pride found nowhere else in the region.

I also have learned that these Jamacians are not docile people like those I met in Tanzania. Men and women are equal and express themselves strongly. The Jamaican women are really tough too. Woe the guy who tries to rough up a woman. He's likely to be beaten up himself. .

On Monday all the students arrive and by Tuesday we'll all be involved in a building project of some kind. Until then hey mahn, you be good now, eh?

Masai People of the Serengeti/Ngorogoro

I am posting tonight from New York after my 15 hour plane flight from Hong Kong. Tomorrow morning I leave for Jamaica and will not know how much connectivity I will have from Amizade site.

For the past several days I have shown pictures from my Tanzania safari through the Serengeti. There is still so much I want to share of this aspect of the adventure, especially photos of Olduvai Gorge where Louis and Mary Leakey found the 1.75 million year old Australopithicus. Also I must still show photos of the 8th Wonder of the World, The Ngorogoro Crater, 18 miles from rim to rim, teeming with amazing animals, including rhinos, living safely in a deep natural pocket, lost in time.

Then again what would a trip through the Serengeti be without pictures of its living human residents, the Masai. Tribal life in Tanzania was discouraged and basically eliminated with independence in 1962, but traditional values and rural life, ujamaa, was embraced as a key teaching by Julius Nyerere, the country's founder.

The Masai have retained their tribal identity and many live in mud huts in small circular enclosed villages. Those folks, living within the park, survive entirely on raising cattle or goats, which are allowed to roam freely in certain sections. Agriculture is not permitted. The middle photo is of a cattle herder who spoke some Swaheli and asked for food rather than money. These people barter a lot among one another. By the way every marriage involves a dowry of cows.

The bottom picture of the two women was taken in a town outside of the park. Many Masai have left the confines of rural village living and have sought their fortune in nearby communities. These ladies sold me two hand-woven beaded bracelets and were amused by my horrible accent and wild gesticulations.

I snapped the top picture and included it for you to see the earings and hats worn by Masai women. Along the road the men and women pride themselves in the most colorful dress that I had seen on my travels. The women wear long silver necklaces and chokers, plus huge earings.

My mind takes me back tonight to this world that is already beginning to feel distant. I ,of course, know nothing of these strange people. Being there reminded me of scenes in Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness or the village in Lord Jim. Such remote places are disappearing. Herds of camera-toting tourists descend on these people every day and as cultures colllide, well, you know the rest.

Leopard spotted?

A guide radioed that he had seen a leopard asleep on some rocks on a hillock not far from the road. When we arrived, the beautiful cat awoke, stretched, jumped down, hid in some tall grass for a bit and then, amazingly enough, crossed the road in front of us, intent on giving the gawking tourists the slip. We followed him slinking away through high grass using high-powered binoculars for quite along time until he disappeared entirely from view. The driver theorized the leopard had a lone tree about a 1/2 mile in the distance as his goal and decided that we should have a look. We drove off the jeep trail and proceeded to roll slowly across the grassland.

The second photo shows that we found our "friend" asleep on a high branch, pooped from his long walk, sheltered from the heat, and resting, before an evening of work. He opened his eyes for a moment, flicked his tail, and ignored our presence.

I chose to include the third photo to give you a sense of the vast open space of the Serengeti. Please look carefully at the third branch above the bend. That stick you see is the leopard's tail. From this vantage point, prey can be spotted for miles. Of course there is so much wildlife, especially gazelles and impalas, that I am sure the leopard does not go often hungry. In fact any number of animals might seek the shade under this tree. By the way, don't you think it might be a nice place to have a picnic?

Tickle behind the ear?

Yesterday I posted a photo of a pond on the Serengeti and mentioned that a couple of hippos were in the background. A number of people wrote me and asked to see some close-up pictures of these amazing animals. Also one commentor mentioned that he had heard that many native people had met their demise by hippos.

While watching some of these beautiful creatures, my guide had related some information on that subject. Hippos often move from one watering hole to another and often cross long distances by land to do so. In the water hippos feel safe and are delightfully contented with frolicking, grunting and sleeping. On land, however, they are especially nervous, vulnerable and irritable, especially when traversing with young, which are easy prey to large cats. Many a villager's presence, while bathing, doing laundry or fishing on a pond's edge, has inadvertantly blocked the access to the water for a migrating hippo. The animal goes absolutely bonkers when surprised and feels thwarted in its desire to return for a bath. Like with many animals, once an imagined opponent falls down on the ground, a more agressive instinct sets off and the victim is then kicked and bitten to death.

The top picture of a larger family was taken from the opening in the car's roof and through some bushes. As said earlier, it is incredibly poor judgment and not allowed to get out and go to the water's edge. I saw a number of huge crocodiles waiting patiently for anything that might casually happen by and it is certain they wouldn't be choosy about meeting a tourist.

I watched the animals in the second picture for quite a while. Like dogs often do, hippos look like they are fighting, but place their faces next to one another, nuzzle and grunt instead of biting. Sometimes they lie quietly for hours and suddenly, for no apparent reason, the pool comes alive with such play.

I included the third picture to remind myself that night on the Serengeti means a whole new set of circumstances and sounds which I hope to show tomorrow. Does anyone like cats?

Living on the Wild Side

Even though today I flew to Hong Kong on route to Jamaica for my 4th Amizade adventure, I have yet to tell about my days on the safari through Tanzania.

The above photos were taken in Serengeti National Park and are just a few of the thousand pictures I snapped. I had amazing good fortune on this trip, being the only passenger in a 12 person off-road vehicle and having an incredibly experienced guide who put up with me. He had to admit that I was the first tourist he had shuttled who forwent all the elaborate, expensive prepaid tourist accomodations and stayed and dined with him in tiny villages along the way. We established a close relationship and therefore he went the "extra mile" so to speak. (Actually we drove almost 1400 miles much on jeep track to find some of the more unusual animals.)

I am not sure exactly why I have chosen the above pictures. When I look at them now I ask myself what story do they tell. The top photo of the family of giraffes shows something of the immensity of the Serengeti, which means "endless plain" in Masai. This park is 14,000 sq. km or about 300 miles square and along with its neighbor the Ngorogoro Forest Preserve contains most of the remaining population of animals in East Africa.

I chose the second photo to show the diversity of the landscape. It is not all grassland but is dotted with swamp especially this time of year. This is the beginning of the rainy season and many animals use such spots to drink and cool down from the searing heat. By the way, it is not allowed to hike nor is it safe in most places to leave your car. Strange big things often are lurking in the grass! You wouldn't want to swim there either. What appears to be a log at the back of the pond are actually two hippos. ( I have hippo pictures from so close you can count teeth!)

The third photo of a baboon and baby reminded me how much fun it was to watch these families sometimes containing as many as 50 members. They provided comic relief on the long journey and bother everything that comes in their path. Most important for me though was feeling the freedom of these and all the animals of this wonderful park. In Swaheli it is called Uhuru and I will never forget it in their eyes.

Random Thoughts

These three photos from my first day in Mwamza represent memories of what now seems like weeks ago.

I mentioned in my previous post that I had hoped to be met at the ferry landing by a tour guide. Of course, I stood in a flotsam of arriving passengers, taxi drivers, vendors and dock workers and saw no one assigned to pick me up. It wasn't exactly hard to pick me out of a crowdwith my white skin, backpack, camera around my neck, and pushing a carry-on. I waited for an hour and then, with the help of a policeman, decided to find a top-quality hotel. The front desk clerk made a few phone calls and after much confusion, located the errant guide. While waiting for him, the hotel manager introduced himself and gave me the royal treatment, showing me his hotel and even invited me to have a complimentary breakfast before leaving. The middle photo shows the manager and my guide, Peter. Most foreigners seem to take photos only of rural people and the poor and present thereby a stilted image of the country. Tanzanians, to whom I have shown my blog, have asked me to balance this bias by mentioning that there is a significant number of people of education, wealth, and refinement.

The bottom photo of some fishing boats on Lake Victoria was important to me because it conveyed such a serene view and I wanted you to see the lake. I thought of massive Lake Michigan that I had known from my childhood. Yet this lake is twice its size, borders three countries, Uganda, Tanzania, and Kenya and provides jobs and fish, mainly talapia to millions of people.

After leaving the city I realized how much the countryside had changed. There were now low plains instead of the high mountains filled with bananas plants to which I had grown accustomed. Here there were people working in rice fields. The top picture, of a youngster standing on a patch of rice, may be one of those exotic photos foreigners seem to take. Children and women are seen everywhere working the farm land all day every day, while men on loaded bicycles or cattle-driven carts clog the side of road taking huge bundles to market.

Tomorrow I leave Africa . I don't want to think about the idea that I may never be here again. I console myself that I will always have my pictures and blog to keep the memory somewhat alive. Yet, even they are so far from the reality of this amazing place.

Bukoba to Mwamza Adventure

I am posting today from Zanzibar, an island in the Indian Ocean, having flown here, after having completed at 1200 mile tour of some of the most amazing countryside in the world. I hope in subsequent posts to tell something of the Serenghetti, the Ngorogoro Park, Olduvai Gorge, Ngorogoro Crater, Lake Myanara and the Great Rift Valley. Before I get to that many of you were concerned about me taking the night ferry alone across Lake Victoria to the city Mwamza where I was to meet my guide.

From the pleading of my family, concerned for my safety, I was dissuaded to book a steerage ticket, because, as expected, I was one of only two other mzungus, white people, who would be crammed in with almost 500 people and a boatload of cargo. When I arrived early in the day at the ticket office, I asked for a first class ticket which would provide me a room, but was told the few double rooms were already sold out. The ticket agent, taking pity on me, told me he would find a crew member who would sell me his private room for the night.

The bottom photo, taken from the crew quarters, shows my area, devoid of people, but housing a rooster tied to a winch, that crowed the whole night long. It was impossible to sleep so I roamed the ship and watched the people and the night sky, wondering whether I was dreaming or really on a small freighter in the middle of Lake Victoria in Tanzania.

The second photo, taken about 11:30 pm, of a port dock bathed in yellow flood lights, was a stop to load even more bananas, tea, sacks of dried fish and even more people.

I am sorry about the top photo being out of focus. Those globs of green on the deck are, of course, mountains of bananas. I arrived at 6 AM, having been up all night, so I probably forgot to find the right setting for night and movement. I was worried also that no one would be at the exit of the port to pick me up. I didn't relish being in a strange town unable to speak Swaheli and no one really to call. My fear was not unwarranted, but that it a story for another time.

Keeping life fertile

This is my last evening here in Karagwe with Amizade. Tomorrow I start traveling alone and have booked safari in the Serenghetti, after which I fly to Zanzibar in the Indian Ocean for some time on the beach. Hopefully, in about a week, I will again have internet service.

Today our group visited a private school where we were invited for lunch and to answer questions. The students were shy as expected. I asked if anyone liked to draw and the kids pointed to one handsome looking 14 year old boy who can be seen in the dark sweater. I pulled out my sketch pad and he posed for me for about 10 minutes. I did a decent likeness which brought quite a lot of interest and laughter. Then I posed for him. I sat like a statue for an equal amount of time, while he drew me. The youngsters gathered around and admired our tenacity. The above picture shows me praising his work and relating something about eyes being in the center of the head.

The second photo of a sunset taken near the gate of our lodging seems to evoke a feeling of the landscape where I have been living for over two weeks. The clouds in the distance look like the shadow of a banana plantation. This reminded me how in nature large and small forms are forever repeated.

Last is a shot from the Chonyonyo water project which will provide water to a small village and eventually a new school. Funds have come from European philantropic organizations and through the generous contribution of AllPeoplebeHappy, a foundation created to help worthy projects in honor of my cousin's late son, Eric Tang. I have visited this site several times during my stay and the work is amazing. Also today, with several other Amizade members, I hiked down into a canyon in the searing heat to a spring. Along the way I met villagers carrying full 10 gallon containers of water up the hillside. The trail was at least 2 kilometers long and really steep. I was dripping in sweat when I came back to the top and I had only been carrying a camera!

I am actually anxious about leaving. The journey here has been long and the stay has had plenty of personal challenges. Yet the intensity of the experience is addicting and leaving here will give me a sense of satisfaction and loss.

Days Like This

The last several days have been filled with some amazing experiences which I am so eager to share but have had such scarce internet time. Even now I am writing these thoughts in Notepad and will paste them into blogger when I am lucky enough to get online. Since I am leaving the project on Friday morning and will spend the next week touring the country without the slightest change of connectivity, I can only give a brief description of my days.

While walking on a lane the other day I spied this lad pushing an old bicycle tire with a stick. Of course he was quite startled to see me and stopped to collect himself. While taking his picture, I think he conveyed to me he was on his way to his grandmother's house with some rice, but of course I could be mistaken. I have wondered what appealed to me about this picture. Maybe for a moment I could feel the simple pleasure of his age. I felt lonely at the time too and somehow this picture lightened my mood.

The middle photo was taken at a Women's Day event at a small village near the Rwuanda border, which was chosen to host this event There was amazing dancing, singing and drumming. This was an event that no tourist will ever see. I was the guest of the district governor who gave the keynote speech and sat with him and other dignitaries. All the school children and all the local people from the surrounding area attended. I recorded music and took videos with my camera. Most important again was the realization that no matter how much American dancers might practice these local dances, they are missing a key component, being one with the sound and moment.

The top photo is of an exhausted little old Jewish guy working at bending tin sheets into gutters. The Amizade volunteers had a work session the other day on a water harvesting project I reported on last week. The tank was finished but gutters needed to be fabricated and attached to the house. Water pours from the roof, then is caught by gutters, which subsequently transports it by downspouts into the tank.

I should be able to post tomorrow, but you never know around here. In any case my fondest thoughts are with all of you from East Africa and look forward to visiting again soon.

Going bananas?

These three photos describe the highland reaches of Karagwe, Tanzania, where I have been living these past two weeks.

It is banana heaven! The economy depends on growing this luscious fruit and exporting it to the lower regions of a country, the size of Texas. I understand there are many species of banana plants, but certain ones are used to raise cooking bananas, dessert bananas, plantain, and banana liquor. Incidentally, I have yet to have sample banana beer, banana wine or banana whiskey, but I may have that opportunity this evening.

I am not sure when bananas were first introduced, but newer more productive strains have been arriving for years. I know its presence has transformed the landscape. I keep on asking what this area looked like before it went "bananas" and what happened. Apparently, most of the native trees were cut down or burned up through huge wildfires. Earlier peoples mismanaged their crops and soil and then moved on to other places. Also this area and its environment was heavily impacted by large numbers of refugees fleeing neighboring Rwuanda and Burundi who, having no means of sustaining themselves, had to plunder the land and its animals. The distant hills, seen in the last two pictures, are barren and the ground suffers from terrible problems of erosion. There are also no animals roaming about and no monkeys are welcome in banana plantations. Yet, on once lonely soil there are now groves similar to the first photo and there are verdant homesteads everywhere.

Nonetheless, local people are being educated by local organizations on land management, and there is great will on a community level, to improve the environment.

Over time I may forget much of what I have learned and seen here, but I know that every sweet banana I eat at home will point me to my days in Tanzania.

In keeping with the theme of International Women's Day, which takes place this week, I decided to post a few more pictures of women today.

The three photos were all taken yesterday so the images are fresh in my mind. The last photo shows a a lady peering from the doorway of a kitchen, where food is prepared for shopkeepers and workers. The lady seemed understandably fascinated by the cadre of a half dozen "white" people visiting her small town. I liked the strong vertical lines formed of the huge machete, the door posts and the woman's long slender body that are offset by the horizontal mud brickwork of the building.

The second photo shows a woman sitting mindfully. Her routine has been upset by the fact that about 6-7 small children, including ostensibly some of her own, have spotted me and others from the group taking pictures. These youngsters are clamoring for attention. It is not like we are aliens, but, on more than one occasion, toddlers have burst out crying and many younger children have run away in fear.

The top picture showing a woman looking tenderly at her child seemed worthy because I wanted to include one traditional picture of a mother. Many women are reluctant to have their picture taken, but she seemed quite receptive and like many, had never seen an immediate digital image of herself when I showed her my viewfinder.

Many of you have asked for additional information regarding pictures and thoughts from previous posts and I am eager to respond personally by email to those questions that require a more than superficial response. The "short hair" for elementary and secondary school girls I am told does not have to do with a fear of lice, but shows an identity as a student. There is some suggestion that doing hair is costly in time and money, that it takes focus away from the academic aspect of school, and that it can show distinction in terms of wealth. I have not heard this from any school administrator so some or all of these thoughts may be specious.

Girls of Karagwe, Tanzania

Yesterday I posted some photos of women and felt that I wanted to represent some girls I have seen here as well.

The top picture is a girl I met walking on a lane with a friend on her way home from primary school. She was polite, spoke some English and told me, as best she could, of her family. We walked as far as her house. I assume she had, like so many others, come a long distance. All school girls must have short hair, but no one has explained to me the reason. Also all students are required to wear uniform colors representing their school.

I snapped the second photo along the main road. I had taken pictures of a number of boys when these giggling girls appeared and demanded equal treatment. They formed this pose on their own.

I am less certain whether the girl in the third picture goes to school. It is possible that she had changed clothes and then began to work, but, for some reason, I doubt it. Education costs and some families need help from all members to survive. There is much debate about whether girls are still less educated, but in any case, I have seen, I believe, an equal amount of girls and boys on their way to and from school.

I appreciate all the thoughtful comments that I received on my last post from those of you who approached the question intuitively or from studies. I gather thoughts from all sources and take my time. These ideas swirl about me like dry leaves. When I finally catch one and hold onto it, it usually crumbles in my hand. What I am left with is lots of fascinating powder to ponder.

Women of Karagwe,Tanzania

It is beyond my understanding at this point to state generally how women are treated by men in this society or understand anything about their lives. How can I get an idea without knowing the language and living here a long time and not as a glorified tourist? Are women more deprecated, beaten and generally disrespected here than in other countries? Are women even more cherished in this culture by husbands who sleep huddled with them on straw in a room the size of your closet, a team requiring deep cooperation locked together in a daily struggle of survival. The answers are beyond my comprehension but I feel I need to bring some internal measuring stick and to know how women fare here.

Historically, worldwide, women have suffered so much physical and psycological abuse and, regardless of religious conundrums which profess that the woman is really supreme, the brutal fact remains, that women have had a tough go at it in a man's world. So it must be here as well.

Like all issues of this journey perhaps some clues are found in the faces. I look carefully, but on this subject, will I see the truth?

On the Road

Later on this week I will follow up with an update from the Amizade water project which
has been the subject of the last two posts.

Instead, I'd like to share with you the surprised expressions I receive as I take a daily stroll along the road in front of our center. It is not every day that these people see a strange, older, camera-toting "white guy" wandering near their village. In the bottom picture this young man urged me in broken English to buy his rooster. He was very polite and I think extolled its features, but I couldn't figure out exactly how much he wanted for it.

The second photo of this older fellow stopped his bicycle to comiserate with me. A car had raced down the road pell mell and had splashed me with bright red mud. You can see the puddles in the background. It is one of the hazards of walking during this rainy season. He laughed good naturedly and seemed to know that I lived nearby. I have learned virtually no Swahili and many people know a few words of English. By the way, everybody loves Obama because his father was from Kenya, which makes him practically an African.

The top photo is one of many fellows who are transporting bananas all day long along the road. They start early in the morning, packing these bunches out of the groves, and then pushing them as much as twenty miles or more. I think this guy was especially tired when he approached. It looked like he couldn't believe his eyes when he saw me.

I have enjoyed my walks and certainly have gained an appreciation of what it might feel like to be black person walking in an all white neighborhood in America, except I am certain and relieved that no one is going to call the police.

These photos have all been of males. I have some shots of women that I am dying to share with you soon.