And We're Off!

Tomorrow morning I get back on the road. Fr. Kamanzi, Fr. John, and I will be circumnavigating Lake Victoria (I know, right?!) by way of Sirari (a small town at the Kenya-Tanzania border) and Mwanza on our way to Bukoba, where Fr. Kamanzi is from. After a few days there, Fr. Kamanzi will return to Nairobi and Fr. John and I will travel with My Man Godfrey (!!!) to Uganda, where we will stay for about 9 days. This is my first time to Uganda, and I am excited to finally see in person the "Pearl of Africa". I'll be coming back to Nairobi on the Ides of March (sorry to be missing the annual Pressimone party, but I brought my tee-shirt, so it'll be ok), just in time to introduce all of these Africans to the glories of St. Patty's Day (I am spreading the word that they will be expected to wear green.) I wonder if I can get my hands on some Guinness before that...

Like I said, I don't know what internet access will be like, but whether I am able to post or not, I will keep writing! Thanks for reading!

The Smiling Mountain

Kilimanjaro is a shy mountain. It seems that she spends most of her time shrouded in clouds, even on the clearest and brightest of days. To see her in all her glory is a rare and humbling pleasure. When I came to Tanzania in 2010, she smiled on us and I knew then that it may be the finest view of her I will ever have, no matter how frequently I might visit. Indeed, when I returned to Moshi this weekend, located at the foot of Kilimanjaro, I didn’t get even the slightest glimpse of the mountain.

So imagine my surprise and delight when she decided to escort me on my journey back to Nairobi!

Fr. John and I departed Arusha by public transport at about 8 am. The morning was grey and wet, an excellent thing for the parched country, but not ideal for window-watching from the bus. Mt. Meru towers above Arusha, and there are some other mountains visible from the Great North Road, even through the mist. I have a great love of mountains large and small, so I was very content to watch them roll by as we traveled. One of the more craggy peaks even appeared to wear a fine dusting of snow on its head. As this mountain passed us by, another more distant mountain appeared with even more snow on its peak. I actually thought to myself, “That mountain must have nearly as much snow as Kilimanjaro.” It wasn’t until we had traveled many more miles without the mountain fading into the distance that I began to suspect that this was Kilimanjaro. I mean, she had to be at least 75 miles from where I was, and I wasn’t certain that the mountain was even visible from this angle. I kept convincing myself that this was simply a smaller, closer mountain with which I had hitherto been unacquainted. But as the bus entered a great flat expanse, I saw her towering above the plain in all her snow-capped majesty, I knew I had been kidding myself all along. She is simply too magnificent to ever be mistaken for another mountain, at least not for too long.

Kilimanjaro is the 3^rd tallest mountain in the world, a source of pride for all Tanzanians. Her image is everywhere- bottled water, tee-shirts, beer bottles, vehicles, billboards. But it doesn’t matter how often you see the image; nothing in the world can compare with seeing her smile in person.

There's No Business Like Show Business

Last week, when Fr. John and I were driving through Ongata Rongai in Rift Valley, I noticed a large stage erected along the side of the road. There was a small group of people gathered in front of it, and a few energetic speakers occupied the microphones. I assumed it was some sort of political rally (I pictured Sybill Crawley sneaking out of Downton to attend it), but when I asked Fr. John what was going on, he said it was just a “Roadside Show.” My first reaction was “Ooooh! A Side-Show!”, but this was not a Depression-era, road-side, steam-punk circus attraction (but how cool would it be if those still existed in Kenya of all places?). This was actually a marketing ploy by a local bank, a fairly common occurrence. People whom they are targeting don’t necessarily have access to the internet, and television commercials won’t reach everyone, either. People don’t look at flyers, so they have found that this is the best way to advertise to the general public. The ultimate question is, why didn’t I think of this when I was a Campus Minister?

Terrors of the Savannah

I have a long-standing debate with my dear friend Mo regarding the disposition of kangaroos. While she maintains that they are, by nature, cute and/or cuddly, I hold to the opinion that they are aggressive, vicious beasts to be respected and feared.

I am right, of course.

At dinner on my first night in Arusha, I learned that there is another animal equally misunderstood and life-threatening. My eyes have suddenly been opened to the horror of animals I hitherto believed to be graceful, gentle herbivores.

Giraffes are cold-blooded killers.

I really wish I was being glib or flip or sarcastic, but the hard truth is that giraffes are incredibly dangerous creatures. It was not immediately apparent to me exactly how giraffes go about killing people. Not biting, obviously, as their heads are in no way proximal to humans, unless you are up in a tree or something. I once saw a YouTube video of giraffes thwacking each other with their necks, and while it looked painful, it didn’t look like it could harm humans on account of our collectively short stature. So how, you ask, do they wreak their havoc?

They kick you.

It makes sense, when you think about it for a second. Giraffes are 49% neck, 49% legs, and 2% everything else. If I ever took a course in physics, I could make some comment about pendulums and fulcrums and velocity, but I am very obviously out of my wheelhouse. Just take my word for it: giraffes should be admired from afar and never ever approached on foot.

For real real.

Internet for a Few Days More

Hello, all! I have just returned to Nairobi from a wild weekend in Arusha. I was greeted like family and fed like they were fattening the calf. And the beer.... oof. So. Much. Beer. My liver is grateful for a little break.

While we were there, we visited every AJ Mission in driving distance. I will be posting some tales from the journey over the next couple of days. On Wednesday, we hit the road again, this time for the lake region of Tanzania on our way to Uganda. Who knows what internet access will be like, but I will try to pop in as often as I can.

I hope everyone had a great weekend!

Travel Update

Friends, I hope that you are enjoying these posts! I am doing my best to keep it interesting.

Tomorrow, Fr. John and I are traveling by public transportation to Arusha, Tanzania until Monday. I do not know what internet access will be like, but I remember it being sparse during my last visit there. So, if you do not hear from me for a little while, worry not! I will continue to write posts whether I can publish them or not. I'm excited about my first experience with the public transportation, and I am especially grateful that Fr. John will be accompanying me.

I will make sure to give a big update next week before I depart for Bukoba, Tanzania, with Fr. Kamanzi.

Kwa heri!

Triunfo del Amor

Oh. My. Goodness.

Last night, I witnessed the most amazing television program in existence. My friend Fr. John invited me to join him after dinner to watch a Spanish soap opera with him, and who could have know what was in store!

This is the plot that I gleaned from about 10 minutes of watching: When Victoria was young, she got pregnant and gave birth to Maria. The father of the child entered the seminary and his mother tried to kill the baby by hitting her with a car. Now, Maria works for Victoria, but neither of them know they are related. The father (who is now a “Father”) found out about the whole situation when his mother told him about it, but she said it during confession, so he can’t tell anyone about it (except, apparently, the senior priest, with whom he discusses it at length within earshot of- wait for it- his mother!). In the mean time, Maria is grown up and is in love with Max, and the have a child together and they’re going to get married. BUT their friend Alonzo has been very good to them and has saved Maria’s life and he is going to die in one month or less! (The disease is unnamed, but the symptoms include squinting, and uncontrollable head-clutching.) Max selflessly insists that Maria marry Alonzo, since both Max and Maria want nothing more than for Alonzo to be happy, and it will only be for a month (we can all tell how that’s going to go). Maria, after a quick series of highly emotional flashbacks, realizes for the first time that Alonzo is in love with her, so she agrees to Max's plan. Also, Victoria has just returned to work at her fashion design company after “not being around much” for a couple of weeks, during which time she was diagnosed with badly advanced breast cancer, had a mastectomy, went through chemotherapy treatments, and is now completely cancer-free, back to her full health, and ready to dive back into her work.

None of this is a particular stretch for the soap genre, but couple it with the added camp of being a Spanish soap, and the fact that all of the dialogue is dubbed (badly) into English with exaggerated American accents, and you’ve got a real winner. (Oh! If only you could hear this voice work!) Plus, all of the background songs are still in full Spanish, creating this really bizarre multi-linguistic universe.

As I mentioned, I watched this at the behest of Fr. John, who tries not to miss a single episode (he’s the one who helped fill in some of the back story). He says he likes it because everyone is Catholic and there are some really good “themes”. (Um… ok, Father.) And he takes it super seriously! I started to feel bad about laughing so hard, and try as I might, I could not explain why it was so funny to me.

This morning at breakfast, I was talking to Father Michael (Secretary General) and Father Stephen (Vicar General) about the show, and they both launched into very serious communication about some of the finer plot points, praising the series’ fine story-telling. Fr. Michael said it was just like reading a novel, to which I responded, “What on earth kind of novels are you reading?!” I kindly explained to him that those novels are colloquially known as “Trashy Romance Novels” State-side (back me up on this one, Aunt Nelly). Fr. Stephen proceeded to tell me about a series of movies from Nigeria that are taking Africa by storm, especially among the young people. He assures me that they are “must-see” movies. I can only hope they are a fraction as good/bad as Triunfo del Amor.

Impregnable Fortress

Since I was very young, I have always enjoyed sleeping in enclosed spaces. Bottom bunks were like caves I could burrow into, and the closet at the Mountain House in the Poconos may still be my favorite bedroom of all time. The room I have here is lovely and spacious, but I get tremendous joy from sleeping under a mosquito net. Even with my eyes closed, I can sense it all around me, a barrier of comfort in a strange land. Couple all of this that I am a veritable magnet for mosquitos, and you’ve got yourself one happy Jo. Friends, I think there is no sound sweeter than the angry buzz of a mosquito trying in vain to get through a mosquito net.