Yesterday Part II: Anthropologist for a day

Frank’s house is a typical Arushan house. To get to it from the street we had to walk up a steep hill with rocks as footholds and later with bags that have been inserted in the path as steps. Then we crossed this narrow mud path and turned into his little community. Mind you, he was carrying my big suitcase doing all of this. I called him a goat. He explained that the first time he climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro he was 16. He has done it countless times since then.

Entrance to Frank's community.
See the person at the bottom
to get some perspective of steepness

He pointed out the choo and bath which are in the same mud walled structure and do not have running water. He brought me to his home where I made the first of many faux-pas. I didn’t notice that he had taken his shoes off before coming in. He was too polite to correct me. When I came out to use the choo he offered for me to use a set of his flip flops and that’s when I noticed the shoes were all outside. It makes sense since the courtyard is dirt, I just was too tired and stupid to notice.  He introduced me to his cousin, Venance who is visiting him while doing “tuition” that I had learned about earlier from Masharubu.

View of Arusha and Mt Meru from Frank's home.

He used this electric heater that plugs into the wall and the heater part in the bucket to heat up water for me to bathe, mixed that with some cold water from the spigot in the courtyard and gave me a towel. I really, really enjoyed it. I felt as though I was washing that nightmare of a bus ride away.

When I came back to the house, I had the opportunity to look around. It’s a two bedroom apartment with a narrow refrigerator, a table that serves most of his cooking needs, a propane tank with a metal device attached to the top that is the main stove a tiny coffee table, a thick chunky couch and it’s mate, a thick chunky chair. He also has a small television and a small sound system. The other room is his bedroom. It’s just large enough for a bed and a side table. The place is very tidy and efficient.

Big comfy chairs

Frank's kitchen

He made us breakfast of eggs, toast and oranges and asked what I wanted to do. I was torn because on the one hand I was absolutely exhausted but I didn’t want to be cheated out of a moment. We agreed that we would go ahead with the adventure planned for the day, which was to visit a Waarusha tribe, see how coffee is made and have lunch at a waterfall. Even though we were off to a late start it was ok.

We took public transportation to the main part of town. This was fun. We walked from his little road to a less little road. A little bus came along with a man leaning out of the window whistling to people to get on board. They must come frequently because we didn’t wait more than a few minutes. We got in. It cost 400 T Shillings for the two of us (about 30 cents.) The conductor who whistles out the window reminds people to pay by shaking a handful of coins at those who haven’t paid.

We got out in the city center, got some money out of the bank – exchanged some of the US Dollars that I still had – picked up our second guide, Jackson, and our lunch boxes. Our driver picked us up and we drove out of town. We had a big hike ahead of us. What Frank didn’t realize when he proposed this trip was how old and out of shape I am. What I didn’t realize when he proposed this trip was how much hiking was involved. It wasn’t too long before I was asking to take breathers. They said sure and said, “Pole pole” (Slowly slowly.) They showed me the crops along the way. We grabbed some ripened coffee beans off of some of the bushes as we went. They were red and look like berries – almost like small cherries.

When they say coffee is ready they mean something different.

Eventually we stopped at someone’s home who had agreed to let me see a demonstration of how they prepare the coffee. We took the few beans that we had gathered and put them and some more in a bucket in this churning metal device that peels off the red outer layer and leaves the white bean inside. I was told that the white beans were allowed to ferment for 3 days, and then washed dried and washed and dried again before getting processed. Since we didn’t have three days to wait, they gave us a bunch of beans that had already been dried and we were off again.

Removing the outer layer of the coffee bean.

My breaks became more and more frequent and even though they were speaking Swahili I could tell that Frank and Jackson were trying to rearrange the schedule since this was taking longer than they had planned. Eventually we came to a clearing and I thought we had arrived at our destination. No – this was just a place where we had to register with the park rangers. It was a good stop for the choo, some water and catching my breath and then we were off again.

People kept passing us in both directions and they were rather amused. Later I found out that some of them told our guides that they didn’t think I was going to make it. I kept thinking that this is one of the hardest hikes I’ve ever done and for these people this is just Sunday.

The breaks were coming even more frequently now. Frank kept encouraging me and telling me how proud he was of the job I was doing.  The view kept getting more and more spectacular. I can’t wait to show you the pictures.

Finally, finally we had arrived. We were at the home of a real, traditional Waarusha family who live in the traditional way. They were so very, very nice. They showed me all around their small piece of land. They live in a round, mud and dung structure that is very sturdy. In that structure was the fire place, the sleeping quarters for the humans and the sleeping quarters for the livestock. Since there is very little land that isn’t used for farming in this area, this is known as zero-grazing. That means that the farms also have to farm grasses that they bring to the livestock who stay in place.

Removing the white shell of the coffee bean

They also showed me a store room and another building that had several chairs in it. It was the only rectangular building

They showed me how they use a pounding device to remove the white husks from the dried coffee beans. They uses a tray to shake the white parts off only the part we consider to be the coffee bean. They built a small fire outside for my benefit (they had been planning on doing this indoors.) They roasted the beans on the fire in front of my eyes and I set to work asking all sorts of questions about their lifestyle. I felt as though for this one brief moment I was actually getting to be an Anthropologist. I asked about their family composition; what their weddings were like; Infant mortality; how community disputes were handled; how jobs were divided; and anything else I could think of that was reasonably appropriate. My questions were answered with Jackson and Frank providing translation when they didn’t know the answer.

Jackson adds the coffee beans to be pounded

Then the coffee was ready. I was given a whole bean to try and the rest went back into the pounder and it came out as the fine powder we are accustomed to. That was thrown in a pot of boiling water and moments later we were enjoying some amazing coffee.

Roasting the coffee beans

Eventually it was time to go, but I wanted to make sure that Frank let them know how much this meant to me. This was literally one of the most thrilling things that has ever happened in my life. I don’t know that I would have made a better Anthropologist than I am as a geek, but getting the chance to, at least once in my life, live out what I had read in textbooks is so incredible that I’m getting choked up just writing about it.

Frank informed me that he had modified our trip a bit so that instead of completely backtracking our path after the waterfall, we would go up the other side of the waterfall and have our driver meet us there. That sounded like a really good idea to me.

We continued downhill in a comfortable environment and saw a group of young men who had sprinted past us much earlier. They were drying off after having had some fun at the waterfalls to which we were headed. I told them (through translators) that in the future when they pass an old lady struggling to hike up a hill they need to at least pretend to be a little tired. They responded that they wanted to encourage me to keep going. 

After that the path got a lot steeper. The fatigue was really settling in now. I started having to take breaks going downhill. Some of the parts were a bit scary for me but Frank and Jackson kept encouraging me, taking my hand to help me past the tough spots. At one point, Frank took Jackson’s backpack in addition to his own while Jackson sprinted off to the ranger’s station for a required check in. I swear these boys really do have goat in them. We finally reached the river and started our trek to the waterfall. I thought this would be a lot easier, but it wasn’t. We had to cross the river several times. Frank had thought ahead and brought me a pair of water slippers to wear so I didn’t even try to skip rocks. I just waded in the very shallow water. After a while I stopped picking my pants up to keep them from getting wet.

It seemed as though it was a really, really long time and finally the waterfall was just barely within sight but there was one big obstacle. There was a rock that was just too big for me to attempt. We tried and eventually I just realized I was just too tired to do it. I knew we still had to hike back up the other side and I was so tired that my legs were shaking. We all agreed (I being the loudest) that although the waterfall would have been wonderful, it just wasn’t worth it. We picked a place to eat our lunch ( I didn’t have much of an appetite so I only ate a samosa and we saved the rest,) and then we began our hike back up the other side.

At this point I really started to get worried. I was really, really, really tired and didn’t know how I could make it. I pushed and pushed myself. I took breaks about every 15 feet. Frank held my hand through the biggest steps and slippery parts. He has a way of holding my hand that makes it feel as though I’m only using him to steady myself even though I know he’s pulling. I don’t know how he does this.

At one point during a break we started to talk about the safari scheduled for the next day. Frank got a very worried expression on his face as he explained that the couple that I was scheduled to go with had gotten into a situation with their luggage. When they had flown the shuttle from Nairobi to Arusha their luggage hadn’t. It was due to arrive on Monday, but it threw off the schedule. He was feverishly trying to arrange for several alternatives for me including joining a different group, or waiting one day longer before starting the safari. I was only too happy to wait one day further. That would give me Tuesday to rest up from this very long, very full day of 48 hours. I also could use this day instead of Thursday for shopping for trinkets.

Finally, finally we reached the top. I practically collapsed on the ground and then finished off my water. From here it was a nearly level walk to the road where the driver met us. We turned around and they showed me just how far we had come. I wish I had taken a picture, but I was so tired I don’t think I could have pushed the “button” on the iPhone.

Once in the car Frank told me about the sleeping arrangements. He wanted to know if I would be ok sharing a sleeping surface with his neighbor Rose who I had met previously. I told him that I didn’t mind, but Rose needed to know that I snore. He said that wasn’t a problem for her.

I actually fell asleep in the car – dirt roads and all. When I got to Franks house I had forgotten about the climb up to his place. I even had to get Frank to give me his hand then. Venance already had the water hot and ready for me to shower. I got right into my sleeping clothes. Frank made us Ndizi Mtori (Banana stew) because I had told him I liked it, I was so tired, I could barely eat. Rose joined us and we talked and laughed for a while and then they let me go to bed. I think it wasn’t quite 9 when I went in there and I was out like a light.

I probably won’t be able to write before I get home. I will try to make a few notes, if I can, on Thursday night when I get back from the safari and the night before I fly home, but it may be later.

I’m really glad I’ve had a chance to decompress for a few hours and get this stuff down in writing before I forgot. I’m so grateful for happy accidents that the safari was delayed. I’m not sure I would have been quite as receptive as I think I will be tomorrow.