I awoke this morning to children singing in the primary school next to my new home in Mowo Village, not long after the roosters and bush babies (monkeys) woke me up before sunrise. One of the mamas’ here made chai, chapatti, and mango for breakfast while I waited to visit with the village secretary to discuss plans to begin work and finish the construction of the clinic that has been sitting as an empty concrete shell since 2006.
By mid-afternoon, the cool cloudy mountain air was burned off by the hot sun and I had already been visited by a handful of the mamas in the village hoping for treatment. By 5pm this evening, a heavy tiredness hit after a 6 hour bus ride to the village yesterday and I enjoyed an afternoon siesta, a luxury that probably will not last long. Again, I pleasantly awoke to more singing. This time it was choir practice from the nearby church. I will go for dinner now, probably ugali and marage (cornmeal porridge and beans) before evening yoga in my favorite spot that looks over the valley covered in pine, banana, and acacia trees high above Moshi Town.
Mowo, population 3000, is set amongst the foothills of the “Roof of Africa”, Mt Kilimanjaro, at an elevation between 5000 feet and 6000 feet. It is the last village before entering the forest to climb the mountain that summits at over 19,000 feet. On a clear day amongst the cloud-forest of Mowo, one can catch a glimpse of Mt. Kilimanjaro’s snow-capped peak and also view the valley floor of sunny Northern Tanzania overlooking Moshi Town, where I will frequent once a week to have a real latte made with locally grown coffee and check emails.
I hope to spend the next couple of months gathering health information and working in a relatively nearby clinic, as part of my post-doc fieldwork in natural medicine. I say “hope” and not “plan” as Africa will laugh in your face if you attempt to make a plan. So with that in mind, I will head in the general direction of my dreams.
Whatever this adventure brings, this has been a true test of patience and being human and really understanding what one can live with and live without. I hold many stories close to my heart, some of which pictures and words can do no justice. Going weeks at a time with minimal modern conveniences and spotty communication with frequent power outages (hence the infrequent updates) has brought me much closer to nature. I humbly respect the power of solitude, culture shock, and homesickness that is only overcome by the joy of connection with humanity and all of its many struggles.
