Hello fellow bloggers-
I feel like an all-star because I get to be a guest blogger
on Ellen’s blog! I’m not a blogger, so this may be a bumpy read. Keep a couple
things in mind as I unravel my nonlinear thoughts about my trip to Tanzania: 1)
it was a trip of a lifetime (this is not a cheesy line but the truth, as it was
literally a trip of a lifetime), 2) I had the opportunity to see Ellen at her best
(being lazy all day on a beach, what’s new…), and 3) I caught the travel bug
(the ones that make you want to travel more and the ones that keep you in the
bathroom all day).
*Warning: if this blog appears less funny than usual, it is
because Ellen edited out some of the funny stories that were in the original
version I sent to her. Reader
beware.
Now this is the story all about how / My life got flipped,
turned upside down/ And I ‘d like to take a minute , just sit right there/ I’ll
tell you how I became mkuu of Ngorongoro Crater
Let’s start with the pre-flight trip. It’s Christmas day,
and I’m about 24 hours away from fleeing Kansas City to see Ellen in Tanzania.
Cara stops by for a quick chat Christmas night. It’s nice to have Cara there
because I am scatterbrained. My
mind is in a million places, and I can barely sit still anticipating the next
few hours before I board my first international airplane. Is everything packed?
What’s the flight going to be like? Will I get any sleep tonight? Man, I will
miss eating cereal for three weeks. What is Ellen thinking right now? Malaria pills suck. Will I
have to take a bucket bath…bleh. Should I pack some Gushers? Have I told
friends and family goodbye?
The morning of the trip is here. I’m running on pure
adrenaline at this point. I’m up two hours earlier than I need to be, and I can’t
fall back asleep. Brush my teeth two or three times. I pace around my room a
couple times, wake up my dog (and she is barking at me for waking her up too
early), play some games on my phone, check Facebook. I’m anxious, and so I repeat
the aforementioned routine. My parents and I finally drive over to meet up with
Mark and Mary. I am excited to be traveling with Ellen’s parents to Tanzania,
as I know there will be lots of fun storytelling and games to come on the trip.
My mom (AKA safety patrol) is relieved that I will be traveling with Ellen’s
parents because, frankly, she is worried that I will get lost, stuck, or
somehow misplaced during my first international trip. (Mom, I made it back
safe!) Mark and Mary are seasoned travelers, and my mom finds peace of mind in
this; I can say that it is a luxury to be able to rely on them for all airplane
details on the trip through our three stops: Minneapolis, Amsterdam, and Kilimanjaro.
Leaving KCI for Tanzania! Brett, Mum and Pops
The meals on the plane go round and round! There is so much
food on international flights, and this isn’t like hospital food, folks. This
is the good stuff. Three meals and snacks in-between. The flight attendants in
all blue are handing out chicken and seafood, salads, and chocolaty desserts. I
get to lean back and watch movie, after movie, after movie while eating. It’s
Christmas all over again! But the legroom sucks. This is the only time where I am
thankful I am not taller because it would have been miserable to sit with numb
legs for 18 hours…
During the final three hours of the last flight transfer
from Amsterdam to Tanzania, I am a nervous ball of energy. I unintentionally
revert back to my Dennis the Menace days because I can’t sit still. I think
Mark and Mary sensed this because, as soon as we stepped off the plane to go
through customs in the Kilimanjaro airport, they sent me ahead through the customs
line to greet Ellen first.
I could see Ellen sticking out among a small crowd: Tall, beautiful, rosy-cheeked and sweaty.
Just like I hoped, minus the sweating part. With luggage hanging awkwardly off
of my every limb, I waddle up as fast as I can to give Ellen a big bear hug. It
is fourteen months too long for a hug. We are both shaking and excited and
smiling. I am now dripping sweat too, Karibu Tanzania. As customs are slow, her
parents eventually join us. They are beaming as they walk up and give her big
hugs as well. Man, it feels good to be with Ellen! Our travelling guide, Maji,
welcomes us: KARIBU TANZANIA!
Jet-lagged, we make our way to our first stay on safari near
Arusha. It’s after midnight in Tanzanian time. The four of us are talking in
flurries, gathering and sharing fourteen months of missing stories with Ellen.
The Toyata Land Cruiser we ride in is still cooling down from a warm, sticky
day. It feels like a night in July in Shawnee, Kansas. Except it’s Africa! Crazy! I’m in
shock, and my mind is trying to put all the new puzzle pieces together. The
BUMPY dirt roads, the duka on the left and right, the signs posted everywhere,
the motorcycles zooming by. There
are so many Coca-Cola signs. What?!? Where am I again?
Wildebeest at Ngorongoro Crater
We spend our nights on safari looking through photos of the LIONS-AND-ZEBRAS-AND-GIRAFFES-OH-MY, sharing
funny stories about friends and family back home, and playing games like “Would
you Rather” (thanks Mom for sending this game to Ellen). It is the start of
many legendary inside jokes: “Tuliona Chui na Yue,” “Mhhhmmm (Sling Blade
voice),” “6 inch big toe (don’t ask…).” New Year’s Eve is spent in the
Serengeti camp. We celebrate with a
mixed group of travelers from Australia and the U.S., Masaai warriors, and the
staff. The Masaai perform a ritual dance and invite us to join after a few
drinks. We go to bed before we have a chance to teach ‘em how to dougie.
(Left) Taking a plane from the Serengeti to Dodoma
The last night of the trip in the Serengeti may have been
one of the scariest moments of the trip. Mom, skip this section. Does anyone
know what hyenas sound like when they hunt? Well, I do now. Sometime in the middle of the night I was
awakened by what sounded like a high-pitched laughing call. It’s not what you want to hear within a
short distance of your tent. The next morning, the Masaai warriors informed us
that not only were there hyenas close by our tents, but lions can pass by as
well! Crazy!
I must also tell a short story about our stay in Dodoma,
Ellen’s placement site in Tanzania, as it is something that I will never
forget. Set the scene: it’s
breakfast time, my stomach is rumbling, and I know that I can’t get by only eating
some of her sugary fruit snacks. I ask Ellen if she has anything else to eat,
and she tells me that she has some oatmeal that I can have. When she hands it
to me, I stir it around and take a few big bites. Mmmmm cinnamon. I am halfway
through and, from the kitchen, I hear Ellen yell, “Whatever you have in your
mouth, spit it out.” Wait, what did she just say?!? “Brett, I don’t know if
there was anything in your food for sure, but I don’t want you to eat anymore
of the oatmeal to be safe.” I just ate half of the oatmeal…what do you mean ‘to
be safe?’ Little did I know that as she was sifting through the oatmeal some
more, she thought she spotted a few weevils. She came into the room as I was
scraping my tongue of any oatmeal remnants. Until this point in the trip, I had
no troubles with digesting the food.
A couple of days after the “food incident,” I became a frequent flyer to
the bathrooms. The conspiracy theorist in me will always blame the oatmeal.
Ellen may have a different explanation.
View at the Lazy Lagoon off of Bagamoyo
The next two weeks are spent roughing it at Lazy Lagoon and
Mafia Island. And by roughing it, I mean sitting around on islands that are in
the Indian Ocean where the water is deep blue, the sand is blindingly white,
and the food could inspire Gordon Ramsey. It is the first time I eat octopus,
and it is surprisingly good!
At Lazy Lagoon,
Ellen and I kayak to a sand bar, run the eastern limit of the beach that is
lined with black coral, and swim for hours until we look like lobsters. We also
take advantage of being lazy. We read books left over from travelers past, play
with the manager’s dog, and partner up to play spades against Mark and Mary. I
would love to say that Ellen and I worked well together and won. Welp, that
didn’t happen. Not even close. Ellen and I have many years of practice before
we can come close to competing in spades.
The weeklong stay at Mafia is bittersweet. Ellen and I swim with
whale sharks!!! Yes, I said WHALE SHARKS—moving
buses of the ocean. While I avoid getting swallowed the first time I dive into
the ocean, it is not as scary as I initially made it out to be. The whale
sharks have little interest in people and are more concerned with keeping their
mouths open to swallow an ocean full of plankton. Ask Ellen what it feels like
to swim into plankton—not fun! With few other guests on the side of the island
that we are staying, it is almost as if we have an island to ourselves. Our
days are as lazy as lazy can be. We eat four-course meals, play Sudokus, make
friends with the staff, and occasionally run (I mean Ellen runs to prepare for
her marathon and I continue relaxing). Although the goodbyes are tough, we
smile through the stories from my 19 day journey. The countdown to her return
is down to 10 months and counting…
-Brett Woods
-Brett Woods
Before dinner drinks on Mafia Island
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