June 12, 2009

Our last day in the Serengeti. Modi had determined that we probably would see no more animals so he suggested that we to go to Lake Victoria. We drove out of the park onto a highway that is a major truck route on the western edge of Tanzania. There is an airport that recieves foreign travelers who are going to do a west to east trip thru the Serengeti. One enterprising village has set up a tourist attraction. For a small fee they have a villager (a young man who has had his high school fees paid for by the village) who gives a lecture (in English) about Lake Victoria and the history of the village. The village leaders have used the money to build a brick elementary school and a clinic. The government has promised them a doctor if they build the clinic. The village guide – he was also the teacher- explained that the clinic is to primarily treat pregnant woman. Tanzania is having a population explosion but many of the mothers are dying in childbirth. The villagers understand that they need their woman and that the female is an important part of their lives.

After the lecture, and also included in the price of the tour, we went on a canoe fishing trip on Lake Victoria with the villagers paddling. This is not their commercial procedure, but it was great to be out on Lake Victoria I felt like I was in a National Geographic special!

When the guide had asked where we were from we said NY, but Joseph told him Ndanda. And then he started speaking with him in Swahili. The guide was so impressed that he gave us a a private tour of the village, and introduced Joseph to various villagers. We saw first hand just how big a population boom there is. As soon as we were into the village streets we were overwhelmed by a pack of children, all of whom wanted to claim each of us as their own! They would grab our hands, and if another child tried to displace them there would be a fist fight. No balls to play with, no toys and not enough adults to teach or spend time with them.

Joseph saw a group of women hanging out under a tree in the shade, and went over to them. He squatted down to exchange greetings, and they were flirting and laughing with them. Joe told us that he was telling them his story, and exchanging vocabulary in their dialect with them. What does this mean, what does that mean, that sort of thing. It was such a memorable interaction, everyone was enoying the visit.

In advance of the migration, The National Park service was selectively burning the plain, and especially around our tent camp. The fields on either side of the dirt road were burnt. A bull elephant was coming down the road towards us and Modi had a stand off with him. We were all nervous, but knew deep down that Joseph was safe and happy and as the Peace Corp said in his obituary, “thriving.” We could hardly wait until November for him to come home.