I have no pictures of my travels this day, but I have decided to include my entire journal entry which hold the images of my mind's eye. I hope that through it, you too will experience the road to Singida:
Sunday, October 4, 2009
0810 ~ It is a very strange feeling riding on a bus alone, when I am keenly aware of how distinctive I am to the people around me - not only in language, but in the blaring whiteness of my skin. There is no mistaking that I am a foreigner in this vast land of Tanzania.
There is a child next to me who takes his mother's breast for sustenance, yet the dryness and orange tint to his hair gives evidence that the nourishment is not fully enough.
Along the journey thus far I have seen many images through the frame of my window. I have seen women with hoes in hand, toiling the earth. I have seen men working, with pick axes and shovels to create trenches and I have seen children with fetched pails of water in hand or carried on the top of their small heads. I have seen, as in many times, women carrying large loads on their heads and wonder every time of the constant weight on their spines. I have seen traditional huts with round bodies and grass roofs and I have seen rectangular homes, built of the bricks made from the earth, with tin roofs or grass roofs. Last night I witnessed brick making first hand and watched as the tradesman filled a wooden frame with earth, packed it, and patted it down to form the last of its shape. The frame was then removed and the brick left to dry and become firm in the heat of the sun.
I have witnessed someone attending a graveside stone and seen children being bathed by the roadside.
It seems that we spend a lot of time driving on the wrong side of the road as the driver speeds along. Every once and a while we pick up a new passenger.
My seat mate has just informed me that we are now near Shinyanga and there is diamond mining in this area. Further back on the road he pointed out to me gold mining in process.
We have passed a church with members beginning to arrive, children dressed in their Sunday best. As we drive on we pass a roadside pool table and more bicycles carrying heavy loads of water jugs, milk bins, mattresses, or sugar cane. Most people travel by foot, bicycle or bus. It seems having a vehicle is quite a privilege.
More babies carried on their mother's backs, wrapped in cloths of brilliant patterns and colours.
We've just passed a sign to a large hospital where there is a school of Nursing. The homes here are more red in colour, as the earth has taken on a reddened hue in this area. There are these huge, gorgeous trees with massive trunks, Simon has told me this is the Mbuyu tree.
I thought about taking photos from the window today, but the truth is they would not do justice to the pictures that have been embedded into my mind and memory. I am traveling the roads of Tanzania, Africa. I am in a good place.
0900 ~We are stopped at the Shinyanga Bus Stop now and outside there are many, many people walking around with food and drinks to sell, along with women carrying large basins of bananas or mangoes on their heads. It's a bit chaotic really and our lovely bus radio continues to play at volumes no normal North American would ever listen to - this is the Tanzanian way (:
There is an argument that has broken out close by on the bus - it seems someone is one the wrong bus. I figure yelling can't do much harm and I've rarely seen any weapons in Tanzania so I'm not too worried.
We passed a World Vision sign not far back with a Tanzanian and Canadian flag on the gate. The name was "friendship".
We have stopped for some reason and many of the men have gotten out - I thought to help a broken down truck but it turns out they needed to relieve themselves - all scattered across the field one by one.
The radio has been pure static for a while now, but still the same volume. I'm really looking forward to having some space - I can't wait to stretch my legs and not be feeling the heat of someone else's skin next to mine. Soon. I'm just very grateful that the sun is not beating in on me.
I have learned that my seat mate, Simon, is a Photographer. As we have traveled along I have discovered that he knew more english than he first let on. He tells me that he has to travel to Mwanza to have his digital pictures printed. He is from Igunga.
Graim, from Compassion, has called twice to check on me which is comforting. I have not been able to reach Mary, my initial contact, so I have no idea what will happen for my trip to Arusha. I feel at peace no matter what.
Simon is gone now so I am truly alone, but one of the bus employees speaks some english so that's good news!
We just passed a bus stuck in the mud with another bus trying to tow it - I'm very thankful that we have had no issues to this point. Only 1 1/2 more hours to go, apparently. It has taken much longer than Matari thought (:
1315 ~ I have now been on the bus for almost 7 hours. I am tired.
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