Early apologies for the delay in posting. After three days of flying (that felt like extended day to Jake or one polyphasic day for Sam) beginning in New York and ending in Nairobi, Kenya, we have arrived in Moshi, Tanzania.
We really lucked out with flights it seems. From Newark to Heathrow, we had the pleaure of a crying toddler throughout the entire flight who stood in contrast to her mute brother who was entirely well-behaved until projectile vomiting onto the floor during landing. From London to Nairobi, we only had to deal with a crying baby directly behind us, a nonfunctional entertainment system, and a bumpy ride with mechanical noises that no plane should make.
Arriving in Nairobi, although we were among the first to stand in the line ot have our visas stamped, we paid so much attention to the lovely British ladies in front of us that we managed to get our visas second to last. Jake publicly wondered why there wasn't a separate line just for Americans, and Sam didn't understand how Jake hadn't been shot yet. After waiting online for what seemed like ages, we proceeded downstairs to collect our baggage, which we were ecstatic to learn had not been stolen, ripped apart, or otherwise manhandled in what is one of the world's most reputedly sketchy airports.
We boarded the "short bus" and started the six hour ride to Moshi. Although construction obstructed our bus, we smelled development in the form of the scent of freshly paved cement that ran tantalizingly near and parallel to the dusty roads on which we travelled. Oh well, maybe on the way back. Nothing makes you appreciate America's niceties like miles upon miles of unpaved roads. Every time our bus glanced a thrilling stretch of tarmac, a roadlbock (usually used for construction) forced us back onto dusty detours. At one point, a woman laced a stretch of road adjacent to her property with jagged rock to keep traffic dust off her maize.
At the Namanga border crossing, we were accused of drug trafficking due to Jake's box of "medications." Fortunately, our drivers' sly words (and our white skin) saved us from Guantanamo. That Jake had neglected to write down important African phone numbers complicated our arrival in Moshi. Unable to contact our host family, your noble adventurers were left with two options: pass the time in town with all of our earthly possessions in tow waiting for an e-mail carrying much needed digits or risk a taxi ride to the Frida and William's house only to be stranded outside of the gate. After some cost benefit analysis, we opted for the latter. It appeared that we had chosen in err as our knocks, shouts, door bell rings, and traditional African car honks went unanswered. Luckily, William eventually came to the door.
After a pleasant dinner, extremely fatigued we retired to our mosquito nets at 9:30 p.m.
Following in the tradition of a Bates morning, we woke up at noon. Needless to say, our host family was pleased to see us alive. Breakfast had been left for us on the table, and Sam faced his first challenge back in Africa. The previous evening's meal was an easy enough rice and meat dish. But uji proved a far more ferocious animal. A purpleish grainy mush that shares its consistency with Bates' carrot ginger soup, or, for those who are unfamiliar, wet snot. Jake dined happily and entertained as Sam concentrated on taming his overpoweirng gag reflex. To those who wondered whether Sam could find something worse than Uganda's matooke, the answer is unequivocally yes. We are both fortunate that neither William nor Frida were present at the table for this sight.
But Frida kicked open Sam's closet door at lunch when, having served us a delightful portion of ujali (corn meal or pocho) and lentil like beans, she offered mtindi. To Jake, mtindi is like a milkshake, but Sam sees it for what it is: sour milk in yogurt form. Unlike the uji which Sam dutifully piled in regardless of pain, his eyes welled with tears and his Adam's apple threw a tantrum. Sam struggled to keep his food food in his mouth; Jake did likewise with his laughter. To those who consider Sam not up to the challenge, he wants it known that evening he ate sardines. Our host family has already gathered that Sam is not much of an eater. Inspired by Lindsay Lohan's truelife on Mtv, Frida and William have already talked to Jake about staging an intervention.
Every morning, we've created a To Do list, upon which the first job was to purchase a cell phone. For two days, we have been unsuccessful and Sunday promises the same fate. Mom, Dad -- we're okay.
Larium Dreams
So far a nightmare free Sam has been sleeping soundly. Far from scary, his dreams have been vivid and controllable. Dream shouts-out go to Maggie and Kyle, Sarah Dunn and Jessica Adelman. Thank you for making my nights amusing.
The Back of Jake's Packing List
Important African phone numbers
Allergy medicine
The bottom of his mosquito net (see picture)
