T-rex in Tanzania

On the roof of Africa

At an altitude of 5,895 meters above sea level, Uhuru Peak of Mount Kilimanjaro stands as the tallest point in Africa and also the highest freestanding mountain in the world. Climbing to this point was probably the most physically and mentally challenging task I’ve ever completed, and without a doubt the most rewarding.

With little to no training and after having lived at sea level in Zanzibar for 3 1/2 months, 6 of us set out on the Machame route to accomplish what only about 41% of Kilimanjaro climbers have done: stand atop Uhuru Peak of Kilimanjaro. We began day 1 at the Machame gate at an altitude of approximately 1,800 meters above sea level. The day ended after nearly 6 hours of hiking through the rain at the Machame hut campsite at 3,000 meters altitude. Day 2 encompassed an 8-hour hike through the rain yet again to Shira Hut at an altitude of 3,800 meters. Apart from the final summit day, day 3 brought me the worst of altitude symptoms, including fatigue, pounding headaches, and nausea. The day’s 8-hour hike involved climbing to the Lava Tower at 4,600 meters, and returning down to Baranco Hut at 3,900 meters for camp that night. Day 4 pushed us back up to an altitude of 4,200 meters before entering Karangu Hut at 3,930 meters for camp. On day 5, we hiked for 4 hours in the morning to reach Barafu Hut at 4,600 meters, our base camp before reaching the summit.

At midnight, the morning of day 6, we set out from Barafu Hut at a below freezing temperature with Uhuru Peak as our destination. I can say for sure that this night was the longest I’ve ever experienced. We reached the summit after 6 ½ hours of climbing in the dark and in the snow. Within those hours, however, there were many moments when I seriously doubted if I would make it to the top. Only those who’ve climbed to this altitude can testify to both the mental and physical endurance required to summit. I felt an unrelenting pounding headache, my throat tightening from the pressure, and the blistering chill of the night wind. The worst though, was my inability to breathe. With the air so thin and oxygen so scarce, I spent the entire 6 ½ hours trying with no avail to catch my breath. Half an hour before reaching Stella Point (200 meters below Uhuru Peak), I felt like I was suffocating and nearly made the conscious decision to turn around back to camp.

At 6:35 AM, though, we reached the summit. My first feelings were of euphoria, delirium, and complete exhaustion in that order. The feeling of standing atop the mountain amidst the rising sun, above the clouds, and above the entire continent, was incredible. The mountain, as brutal as it is, is magnificent, and the view from above was proved to be absolutely spectacular.

The 3-½ months spent below the Tanzanian sky in Zanzibar was amazing and an invaluable experience, but the 10 minutes spent on the roof Africa at the peak of Mount Kilimanjaro was something on a scale of its own.

Raw

There’s really no other word to use to describe the past week. Matt, Dan, and I headed north to Nungwi on friday for the full moon party at Kendwa Rocks with only a reservation to stay at a guesthouse for friday and sunday night and no real game plan for saturday. After being kicked out of our room for saturday, we just bummed it on the beach for (no kidding) 8 hours straight before the sunset. At around 9 pm we hiked south along the beach during mid tide for about half an hour to Kendwa Rocks Hotel each with only a bottle of water, 8 whiskey packets (they sell whiskey by plastic packs here, it’s pretty cool), a bottle of soda, and a wallet. We then buried our 3 water bottles on the beach before entering the party. At around 5 am we found ourselves back on the beach digging up our water bottles and then sleeping on the sand under a broken mikuti hut, through the rain too, until waking up at 10 am to the most beautiful view of the ocean from Zanzibar. Raw.

Work hard play hard though. After returning to town on monday, Dan and I traveled out to the village of Chwaka for 4 days to conduct our ISP surveys. By the end of our stay in Chwaka, I hadn’t showered in over 4 days, had no working bathroom for the entire stay, no running water (the wells were salt contaminated too), inconsistent electricity, just a mattress on the ground in a tiny room with no sheet, and no mosquito net. Chwaka probably has it the worst when it comes to third world problems. But in the end it was a worthwhile experience and we managed to survey 50 households for our study. Raw.

Assumptions of race, language, and identity

If there is one true struggle I’ve encountered while in Zanzibar and mainland Tanzania it is in light of these assumptions. To Zanzibari’s, all asians are assumed to be either Chinese, Japanese, or Korean. And they call all three by the same word: mchina. I don’t take much offense to this because this term is used innocently here and it’s not something I think is unique to Zanzibar, but rather common to nearly all countries. What I’ve struggled with is a sense of identity as an Asian American abroad in another country. Many Zanzibari’s have a hard time believing it when I tell them I’m American, and not from China, Japan, or Korea. Or worse, they’re surprised when they learn that I can speak English. Strange, since I travel with an English speaking group of 16. It was only today that I was sitting outside my host brother’s shop with my friend, Matt, when he sparked up a conversation with a man walking past. The Zanzibari man then proceeded to ask Matt while pointing at me where I’m from, and looked astonished when Matt said we were both from America. First of all, I can speak kiswahili equally well, so ask me, not him, where I’m from. And second of all, I’m actually not from China, best believe it. It’s really frustrating.

But while I’ve encountered this most with Tanzanians, I’ve come to realize that it may not just be a Tanzanian thing. While at the University of Dar es Salaam cafeteria, a really friendly student studying abroad from Austria sat down at our table and asked in English if she could join us for lunch. At the time, I only saw it as a friendly student taking advantage of an opportunity to eat lunch with fellow English speaking students. But under a different circumstance, would it have been the same? What if I wasn’t sitting with 10+ wazungu (white people)? If i was just sitting with Nicolette, who’s Korean American, would this Austrian student have asked if she could join us? I can’t help but wonder if her assumption would have been the same. It most likely wouldn’t have been, and understandably so. But isn’t English the language I speak best? Don’t I have an equal understanding of western culture compared to the rest of my group? Having been born and raised in Southern California, I better have. How can this be understandable yet difficult to grapple with at the same time? Even in America this sense of identity was already troublesome enough to wrap my head around. In Zanzibar, it’s safe to say I’ve lost all comprehension of what it really means anymore.

ISP Portfolio

The Independent Study Project Portfolio period meant traveling to various parts of the island to interview the managers and staff of hotels with desalination machines. This meant extremely cramped dala dala rides twice a day (with a max of nearly 30 people crammed into the back of one truck) and a grumpy Italian chief engineer at Essque Zalu. But so far, it has also meant a free lunch and permission to enjoy some of the posh accommodations of a few of the finest hotels in Zanzibar.

Remember that one time…

When 12 of us took an evening boat out to the Pange Reef Sandbar. When we just brought rice and byriani, a soccer ball, firewood, and a grill. When we made toasts with beer, wine, rum, whiskey, and konyagi. When we watched both the sunset and the moonrise at the same time. When we swam in the clear turquoise water of the Western Indian Ocean. When we were all alone on the white sandbar island for hours in the glowing light of the full moon.

I remember that one time like it was yesterday, because it had only happened just then.

Within the art gallery of Essque Zalu Hotel in Nungwi, I found what I believe to be the portraits of Zanzibar I wanted to capture with my own camera but haven’t found a way to yet.

Recap of the first month in Zanzibar

It’s already been over a month since my arrival in Zanzibar, and it feels like both time has passed incredibly quickly and that it’s felt so much longer because of how much has happened. In this past month, I’ve completed a three week intensive kiswahili course, experienced two different homestays (one at Unguja Island and the other at Pemba Island), snorkeled in four different coral reef areas (two protected and two unprotected), visited some of the most beautiful beaches in East Africa, gone on countless excursions, and have finally begun to feel like this island has become something like my third home. 

Apologies for the abbreviated post, but I’ll finish with a picture from one of the more interesting excursions from last week: salt production farm in Pemba Island.