I haven't made a blog post for a while, and I sincerely apologize for that fact. I find (similarly to the last time I was here I believe) that the longer I get into living here, the more all I have to tell are short vignettes rather than deep startling and mind changing observations.
Two weekends ago, I took my first trip to Kenya. I was required to go (actually to leave Tanzania) because my entry permit to Tanzania allowed me to stay 90 days. Luckily, the visa itself is good for a full year, and I can come in and out as many times as I want, for a maximum stay of 90 days each time. So I headed out of Arusha a few Fridays ago in a tiny peugot (strait out of the 70's) packed with a driver and 8 passengers for the ride to Namanga - the town at the border crossing with Kenya. I had been told the road was bad, but that didn't prepare me for the literally dirt and rock road we drove on for the next 2 and 1/2 hours, while dust floated in through the non-functional windows and up through the floorboards and trunk of the car. At the border I climbed into the Kenyan version of a dala-dala, the "matatu" which was a less dusty and slightly more spacious relief. Arriving in Nairobi around 7pm, I was blown away by the size of the city. Everything everyone has ever said to me about "Nairobi being different" did not prepare me for how big and European it felt at times, while still retaining aspects of the life I have been used to over the past few months. I loved the break I got - visiting my friend Anna from college and talking about mutual friends, how Richmond Indiana has changed, swimming in the pool at her apartment complex (!!!) a friend's band at an Ethiopian restaurant, going to the movies, drinking real cappuccinos and whole grain bread, a picnic at the top of the KICC, and a fancy Italian dinner. For the past 3 months living in Monduli, I have felt like Arusha is this huge city, and being in Nairobi made me realize why guide books reffer to Arusha as an outpost town for Northern Circut safaris.
Arusha itself has been changing though! For the past few months, my friends and I have been refering to the pattern of foreigners comming to Tanzania during the summer and Christmas Holiday seasons as "the great migration" (The joke being that the only migration larger than that of the serengeti is the one of the Wazungu - white people - who come to watch it). Over the past 2-3 weeks, the migration has returned in massive numbers. The city actually feels really different. Beginning in June, here at the hospital there has been a revolving door of "volunteers" who come for a day, a week, a few weeks and observe rounds, help pre-pack medicine or watch the lab technicians. Some of the work they do really is helpful, but it is clear that the main people benefitting are the volunteers themselves. I find myself more and more trying to avoid town center, as the street hawkers are more persistant, knowing that us wazungu are mostly trying to buy souveniers and trinkets. I find myself struggling to figure out how to interact with other white people. Am I their guide or offer them support when I see them looking lost or unsure? Do I avoid them entirely, or pretend not to notice that they are any different from Tanzanians?
