Happy's log: My milestones

Today marks the beginning of month 10 with mommy.  She was listing all my milestones since coming to live with her and so I thought I'd share them with you all now.  Mommy really should have been writing this stuff down as it was happening but I guess she was a little occupied with other things.  She apologized to me about it today.  But honestly, I don't care.  That what my portion of this blog is all about... bragging about myself.  So here goes:

First 3 months together:

*gave up wobbling and learned to walk with confidence
*became attached to mommy
*cut 5 teeth
*learned to dance to Lady Gaga and Justin Timberlake
*started babbling like there was no tomorrow
*became obsessed with Yo Gabba Gabba

Months 4, 5, & 6 together:
*moved into a new house
*learned to climb out of my old crib--promptly got a bigger one!
*started saying words in Kiswahili like "hapa" and "asante"
*Got a few more teeth and started really enjoying ALL solid foods
*learned to appreciate a bubble bath (at first I was scared)
*started running
*perfected snobery!
*discovered that I am an excellent traveler and enjoy bus rides!
*started identifying the dogs and sign language for different animals
*fell in love with my baby dolls.  Mommy says I'm a good mama to my dolls.
*learned how to brush my teeth
*Dr. Matthews helped me to not have pain in my ears anymore!
* Mommy says I have an accurate diagnosis now... I don't know what that means but what I do know is that those horrible ladies stick needles in my arm and take out my blood.  I don't like that! I am very afraid of doctors and nurses now.

7 months together to the present date:
*can completely feed myself
*can take my dirty dishes to the sink
*I undress myself and put my dirty clothes in the basket w/out mommy even telling me to do it.
*I throw all my own trash away
*I know how to get tissue and wipe my eyes when I cry and blow my nose!
*I love saying "here" and "bye" in English
*I started saying "mama"... but then I quit.  Mommy's still sad about that.
* I say a lot of words in Kiswahili--- most of them mommy doesn't know!
*I have all my teeth now.  Four were hanging out for months but they finally broke through!
*I love to skype and dance for Bibi and laugh at Auntie Sara.
* I can crawl out of my big crib too... but I don't do it unless mommy is awake.
*met my baba.. but lost him a month later
*I point to bellies with babies in them and say "baby".  Mommy told me to "shush" once.  And then she and Auntie started giggling.  Something about that lady not having a baby in there or something.  I don't know. It looked like a baby was in there to me! 
*I am an excellent stirrer.  I help mommy make pancakes every weekend.  And i always say "UM!"  because they are so good.
*I love lotion and I can put it on myself! 

There's the rough recap of my first 9 months with mommy.  Nothing too exciting.

~Happy

Shae's log: Sometimes you have to tell Him out loud

I'm going to be honest.  The last 10 months have not been easy.  I have never been pitted with challenges in this large of quantity, in this level of intensity, with these few resources as I have over the last year.  Somehow God has given me the confidence and intelligence to figure things out and I can arrogantly say that I have handled things so well.  I am a little cocky about it because I have surprised myself over and over.  Knowing what a huge drama queen I am in my "other" life, it amazes me that I remain so calm about all the negative things that keep happening here.  I broke down one night in December while still in America. And even that breakdown was lame.  So, facing the possibility of not being able to come to the USA to deliver this baby boy due  shouldn't be a big deal, right?  Right? Um, *sigh.  Sad face. Not right.  Wrong.

I realized this morning that I finally can't handle anything else stressful.  I need a break.  I need a big break.  I have been stressed for 2 years now and I need something to go well.  Just something.  I physically can have this baby here in Tanzania and I can arrange for care of Happy while I deliver.  But here's the thing:  I can't emotionally do it anymore.  I need my friends around me.  I'm tired of being alone everyday.  

So I did something that I don't allow myself to do these days.  I felt the emotion of helplessness and admitted that I can't deal.  As I stood under my faintly trickling shower, I said aloud:

God, I am not strong .  I can't handle  staying here in Tanzania and deliver this baby.  I need you to get Happy's passport and visa to America.  I don't think that I can do this.  You have to make this happen because I'm tapped out. And I've got only days before the U.S. Embassy cuts me off for an appointment to apply for Happy's visa.  

And then I finished my shower. Conversation with God over.  Well, who are we kidding? It wasn't a conversation.  It was one sided -- me pleading for help. 

And then...

Three hours later I got a call from the immigration officer. She says that she thinks she can get me a passport number for Happy by tomorrow so I can make an appointment with the Embassy to get Happy's visa and reserve her plane ticket (the airline also requires a pp #).  Happy's passport is scheduled to be printed this week.  

Um, God. that was quick!!  And I guess this means we ARE in conversation together. 

Of course, until I get that passport number I am still in limbo. But there is nothing more I can do and I've told God what I need.  I have to let it go.  He'll provide me the strength as I hand over my weaknesses to Him. For now, that is all I have energy to do. 

~Shae

 

Shae's log: For the world-Whitney. For me- Ewaldi.

One of the few stretches of decent road on Kili.

Yesterday, I attended the funeral of Happy’s father, Ewaldi Augustino Ngowi.  It took a few days of planning but once the day came, we were fully committed to the process and the day started very early.  My housegirl Pendo came over after 7 a.m. to get Happy ready as I had to go into town and pay the balance on the coffin and make sure everyone was there and ready for transport.  Six men walked the coffin from the coffin makers to the mortuary of the hospital next door.  I went home and collected Happy, Pendo, and Uchumi (on the way out) and we drove the almost 3 hour journey to the Ngowi family home in the lower rungs of Mt. Kilimanjaro.

Some of the little children in the villages on the way were bright eyed and calling out “mzungu”.  It doesn’t bother me as much when mountain village kids call it out because they do it with wonderment as its literally the first time they have seen a blonde haired, white woman driving through their village!!! 

Yes, it looks cloudy because that was the haze of dust!  

We followed the truck carrying the casket.  Our journey started around 9:30 as it required this truck, a dalla dalla, my car, and two coaster buses full of mourners from Arusha.  Of course, the road is rocky and dusty and TOUGH to get up to the family home. At some point, the buses stopped and made the travelers walk another 20 minutes to reach destination. I am still shocked the buses made it as far as they did. 

Carrying the casket through the brush and corn fields to the family home.

There were easily 100 people in attendance.  More than even I suspected.  The family is Catholic and so the service had a very beautiful religious tone.  Upon arrival, Ewaldi’s mother was crying and screaming out to God for quite some time at the arrival of her son’s casket.  It broke my heart into a million pieces.  Funerals in Tanzania are quite the spectacle.  And not in the ‘freak show’ kind of way.

Julius and Kelvin-- Happy's brothers.

Rather that it is a sole time for Tanzanians to truly release all their emotions about death, and life, and anything else that has been pint up and not readily discussed.  It is an acceptable moment to just GRIEVE. Because tomorrow there is too much daily work to be done, too much hardship to overcome, and no room for sadness or depression.  All must be processed quickly.  And so the displays of sobbing, of hugging, and dare I say it—quick kisses!—have to be done on funeral day.  This is it.

Friends

The harsh realities of death in Tanzania.

Happy being a complete trooper!

It was hot but Happy was a great little girl.  We sat through a multi hour funeral and with the exception of not wanting anyone to hold her, she did great! 

Kingston’s father (Uchumi)went with us.  I haven’t seen much of him since December, but he was a help to me this week and offered to go with me to the funeral.  We had a good journey up there (save for a tiny spat at the beginning!) and he took my camera as he wanted to capture photos for me.  It was a very kind gesture and I know how much he loves playing with my camera.  I have to admit that he took some good photos that would have been hard for me to do as family and Happy were ushering me around. And of course, all the guests were sobbing for Ewaldi and wanted to know how his daughter (Happy) was doing and so I tried to keep focus on that for everyone’s sake.  The family asked Uchumi to see if I wanted to speak.  I had nothing prepared but Uchumi said during their time of praising and thanks I should speak since they asked.  My housegirl agreed.  It’s a big deal.  I quickly prepared the following and waiting until the time in the service to have this delivered.  Knowing that it would be translated I tried to be concise but in theme with what the family had asked for.  It went like this:

“My warmest greetings to you all.  I met Happy Ngowi in June 2010.  Months later I was blessed to come to this very place and meet many members of her family.  I thank them for their kindness. Even though Ewaldi could not be with us at that time, I prayed over this last year that Happy and I would have a good greeting with him one day.  Last month, we were so happy to meet each other, talk, and take pichas together.  Ewaldi gave his blessings that Happy should live with me and it was an answer from God.  Of course, today is a sad time. But we are all blessed to have known Ewaldi, and God leaves us with the gifts of faith, hope, and love.  Many blessings to his family and to you all. Thank you. “

Nice right? Completely in line with what is supposed to be said at a Tanzanian funeral.  I thought it was strange that there was no reaction regarding blessings as that is a big thing.  This was a very Christian group of Tanzanians.  But whatever, this is not about me.  No big deal. UNTIL the pastor asks “who is this women?  Why does she have the baby in Arusha?  Where is Happy’s real mother?  The real mother must come forward today.”  I had my housegirl quickly translate for me what the pastor was saying because I was SURE I was understanding wrong.  She told me and it kinda’ felt awkward.  Ewaldi’s brother Richard quickly stood up and took the mic and explained that Happy’s mother had abandoned her at 3 months old and that this women (meaning me) had cared for Happy all this time.  Exclaims of praises to God and gasps went up in the room and mixed looks of smiles and confusion were sent my way.  And at this point, I still thought it was weird that they had this reaction to what he said and NOT to what I said.  But whatever, the funeral went on and the service was really beautiful.  I felt so sad for his sobbing sisters as his casket was carried from the service site to the burial hole.  But it was beautiful to walk through the woods and corn fields to the edge of the family property to properly lay Ewaldi into the ground.  I was asked along with other family members and friends to throw dirt into his coffin and Happy participated.

Self explanatory.

Happy and I throwing dirt into the ground.

The priest adding his blessings.

A small sampling of all those who came.

 Family members and a friend.

In 10 minutes, the 6 foot hole was recovered.  Amazing.

Laying flowers on his grave.

Talking with Bibi- Ewaldi's mother/Happy's gran

After his burial and upon witnessing the most amazing scene of them filling his coffin within 10 minutes (in that high heat, blazing sun, and shovels only, I was IMPRESSED!) we started back up through the property to the family home.  I was having some serious nerve pain in my hip and it was well after 4 p.m. so we decided to go home.  But then the downpour of rain!  God had held it off until the conclusion of the funeral.  God is amazing.  We all huddled under crude canopies that was erected for sun block and waited out the rain storm.  The sisters found me under the tarp and pulled me out to usher me into their mother’s shack to wait out the storm.  It was so unnecessary but sweet.  But I did get to spend a little time with Happy’s BiBi (grandmother) and give her a book of pictures I had just had printed for her.  It was amazing to see her and Happy together! After the 15 minute rain, everyone sat to eat the provided meal but we headed home.  Several family members walked us out and I got a great picture of Happy and her brothers.  It was awesome for the three of them to meet.  The only surprising thing that I discovered is that her brothers thought that their mother was Happy’s mother.  You see, they don’t live with their mom and have been raised by the grandparents.  And Ewaldi and his wife (their mom) had been living in another city when Happy was born so the boys were under the belief that she was born to their mother—not acknowledging that their parents had actually been apart for years! We were all shocked to learn that NO ONE had explained to the boys the situation.  Tanzania frustrates me because its hard to get truths out of anyone… because  no one actually KNOWS the truth!!! 

Kelvin, Happy, and Julius.  They are one beautiful bunch!

Any way, we said our goodbyes, I offered my very American hugs, and we loaded the car and headed down the mountain.  I immediately apologized to Uchumi that he had so much to translate for me earlier.  I asked him what he ended up saying and when he told me I thought it was a joke. I turned around to ask my housegirl Pendo what she heard him translate and she corroborated what he said.  She explained that he translated my beautiful speech into this:

“Yes, this is the woman who lives with the baby in Arusha.  She say that she met Happy’s family in 2010.  Yes, she met Ewaldi last month in Arusha and took him to Moshi.   She is also the woman who took care of Ewaldi in the hospital in Arusha when we was so sick.  Does anyone have words to ask her? Thank you.”

Um, WHAT?  Were they joking?  Where was the translation of feeling blessed to have met the whole family?  Where was the thanks for their hospitality?  And I never said ANYTHING about taking Ewaldi to Moshi OR caring for him at the hospital!  Everyone was told he died of Malaria—even though we all know he died from complications of AIDS.  But we don’t talk about it because that is the way it is here in Tanzania.  UGH! And no mention about GOD??? This is important that Happy lives with a Christian and now all these 100 people are whispering  “who is this woman?”  Its so insulting not to have thanked the family and Uchumi TOTALLY omitted this part.  I was so angry and started FREAKING out!  It explained so much!  I was so angry that I started to cry and of course, Uchumi made it all about him instead of realizing that it was really about the disrespect to the family and not me being angry at him for his HORRIBLE translating.  I knew he was bad at understanding me, I just thought he’d drop a few things or translate the sentiment and not the word for word.  But this?  Oh.  Disgrace.  And I have to take the blame because I was listening to him translate and it sounded weird but I thought it was my lack of understanding Kiswahili. And if I spoke the language, this would not have been a problem.  The realization that I had sounded like an ungrateful guest and that I had not properly addressed the family made me feel terrible for them.  I was a black spot in their very emotional day of burying their son.  Oh my goodness.  This was bad.  REALLY bad.  My blood pressure was up for the three hours home and Uchumi and I screamed at each other for a good hour as he was mad that I was upset and I was pissed that he was making this about him and not realizing the ripple effect of bad things that could happen from this!  Very much, people in attendance could see me as a bad person and not want Happy to live with me.  They could see this as a disrespect to the family.  They could very much remember this when the memory should have been of Ewaldi. And advise the family against the hard work we've all done over the last two years!  AAAHHH!

Its been 18 hours and I’m still upset.  But I’ll write an apology.  I’ll have someone I trust translate it, then I’ll text it to the family as mail isn’t really an option here.  If I wasn’t so pregnant now I would drive the 3 hours back to the family home and greet his parents with apology.  But whats done is done and I don’t have that option.  I’ll just pray that God inspires in everyone important what I intended to say and not what they heard.  He has that power.  I just will never forget this as long as I live and will forever feel awful whenever I see his family.

Anyway, on a day when the world was mourning a pop star who was lost due to her self inflicted pain, 100 of us in Tanzania were mourning the life of a man who was taking away by a cruel, unforgiving disease.  The juxtaposition of Whitney’s event and Ewaldi’s is striking.  But this is how the world works.  It’s a day I will never forget. 

~Shae

A beautiful capture of the sentiment of the day.  Ewaldi's Father has his head down.

Shae' log: the last third

With all the commotion surrounding the funeral of Happy's father, I failed to realize that I had entered into my third trimester of pregnancy.  However, the hourly contractions for the last 8 hours has quickly reminded me that indeed, there's a baby in there.

Congratulations little boy on making it this far.  If we are able to go to America next month, you can do whatever you want.  But while we are in Africa, please stay in.  You are not ready to come out.  Trust me.

Love,

Mom

Shae's log: "...until the nights run out."

If you are still married and madly in love with the father of your children...

If you are divorced but maintain a friendly relationship with your kids' dad...

If you have conceded that he was only your 'baby daddy'...

Then you can probably understand what I am feeling right now.

In my previous blog I said that I would go every night and take care of Happy's father "until the nights run out."  Well today at 1:30 p.m., that is exactly what happened.  I got the call that Happy's father, Ewaldi Augustino Ngowi, had passed away.  I wanted so badly to hold back my emotions but somehow the tears kept quietly falling out of my eyes and slipped down my cheeks.  When I reached the top of my stairs, my housegirl Pendo was choking back tears while sweet Happy girl sat giggling in her arms.  Happy was all smiles at seeing me walk through the door and immediately ran for me to pick her up.  I tried to dry up my eyes but I found it was fairly futile.  As I got tissue from the bathroom, Happy ripped it out of my hands and did something that is actually so in character for her little soul.  She flipped my glasses off my face (thought they might break as they crashed to the floor. Ooops!), took the tissue to my tears, and then proceeded to stuff the paper up my nose to wipe it clean.  It was such a beautiful and sweet moment. In years to come she will understand the significance of those tears and how poignant her little two-year-old actions were today.  But for now, she just thought she was taking care of her mama in the exact same order I take care of her tears.  It was so touching that it made me want to cry more.  But I didn't.

I quickly gathered myself and rushed to the hospital to meet with the rest of Happy's family.  As we gathered together and moved our collective to Happy's uncle's house, more family members arrived --to my joy.  Of course, the occasion was solemn but the affections shared by each member that I had only seen from time to time was so needed. With the help of one of their friends who speaks beautiful English, we were all able to come to some decisions regarding Ewaldi's funeral and transport of his body.  I was so moved by their welcoming spirit.  It was made very clear that I was not there as a money machine.  I would help, sure, but every friend and family member chips in cash to cover burial expenses.  I explained that since Happy is so young, I must be there as a representative for her.  They all agreed that pictures were appropriate as she would want to know how we all came together in honor of her father.  It was so moving for me.  And heartbreaking.
Nomatter that limited time I had with Ewaldi, it is time that I will cherish for Happy.  He was so obviously intelligent.  And when sober and sound, a true gentle spirit.  His english, though limited, was so clear and beautiful.  I am forever grateful for his gifts-- both in the existence of Happy and his advocating for her to be my child. Nomatter how we feel about the men who father our children, we must give credit for they are part of the creation.  And even before I met him, I thought of him often.  Now he will always have a specific place in my heart.

The very last things he said to me after all the "business" was talked about, as he knew his time was ending, were these words:

"Tell me about Shae."

I held his hand as I spoke in English and my friend translated to make sure he understood every word.  I told him how spending these days with him was a privilege for me.  I told him about the success he brought to the adoption.  I told him about Happy's day and how already she looks at his pictures and says "baba, baba".  I told him she knows who he is as much as she knows me.  He smiled really big. He tried to squeeze my hand, and his VERY last words to me were this:

"Congratulations".

I gave him a half hug and left for the evening.  The next night (the 14th) was a difficult one as his breathing was labored and he could barely speak.  He stared at me.  Not creepily.  Not with confusion.  But with gratefulness and, dare I say it, honor.  As I fed him, I wondered if he knew it was me but there was no one to translate.  But then I heard him tell his sister that I had come again-- as if he was surprised-- but it was in Kiswahili and I didn't want to push him to try to think about translating his words to talk to me in English.  I eventually gave the food to his sister, and I propped him up and held his body as he was too weak to sit up on his own.  As the smell of death emoted from his skin, I kind of knew that night might be my last time to see him alive.  And I as I made plans this morning to come to the hospital equipped with materials to give him a bath tonight, there was a part of me that wondered if tonight would be our last time together.  But alas... our nights ran out.

I am devastated beyond words for my daughter.  AIDS has robbed her from ever knowing, smelling, feeling, touching, and hearing her father at a time when she would be old enough to remember.  The pain I feel for her is so great that its almost too much for me to bare.  Losing our parent while we are adults is horrific.  But we have a lifetime of memories to share and reflect.  Losing a parent before you are even old enough to talk-- well-- thats just cruel.    My only comfort is that he is with God now.  No, I don't believe that he is in heaven looking down over us.  That is not how I view death.  What I mean is that his fate is in God's hands.  I believe that one day upon our Lords return, we the living and the dead will raise up to heaven together.  And I have to believe that God will not leave Ewaldi behind.  And that is the only thing that I can teach my daughter to bring comfort to a situation that makes no sense.

In peace, Ewaldi Ngowi will now rest.  In faith, I will continue on the earthly fight for the life of his daughter.  And I'll be "happy' to do it.

~Shae

Happy, Baba Happy (Ewaldi), her auntie Editha and cousin Sharon. Only 1 month ago. A picture our family will cherish forever!

Shae's log: Today I was a good African

Watching patients in the mens ward of a local Tanzanian government hospital is sadness to the nth power. But being able to feed Happy's father and drown out the sadness around me-- truly a gift! He was so thrilled to see me even if he can't really talk or hear much now. But the little he could talk was words that will stick with me forever. I'll go every night until the nights run out...

And today, when he was telling my friend things to translate to me, his sister became choked up and walked out of the medical ward.  I could see through the window that she was outside crying.  So I did the only thing I knew to do.  I walked outside, stood beside her, and just took her hand into mine.  Her sister-in-law came out and took her behind the building (I think to get her to stop crying).  But while she was with me, I just let her cry.  Its probably something she doesn't get to do that often and as an American, crying is part of our culture.  So I was happy to foster this uncommon emotion in her.  Watching her brother deteriorate has got to be the most gut wrenching thing.  And then to hear him give me instructions on what to do after he dies had to be even harder.  But for her and for her brother, it was easy for me to hold it together and take care of business.  I really do think God built me for this.  And I feel honored to be able to help.

I desperately want to come home to America to deliver this baby boy and introduce everyone to Happy.  But if God's plan is for me to be here and care for this man and his family as he succumbs to AIDS, then that is what I will do.  

I hope my children will one day understand the choices I've made and, if need be, forgive me for my decisions.  I'm really trying to do what is best for everyone but I am sure that I will fail someone.  But I'll keep trying and pray for God to take over where I am deficient.  

~Shae

 

Shae's log: I don't make a good Tanzanian

Those beautiful brown eyes of hers motivate me in ways nothing else could!

My heart is breaking a little bit today.   After having enjoyed an amazing day at Cradle of Love and Tanz Hands yesterday (the blog is done but I wasn't in the emotional state to post it yet), I woke up to a text that made me pause.  I got word that Happy's father was very sick and his family needed my help to get him to the hospital.

My housegirl Pendo was so kind and kept calling the family for updates as they don't speak English well and my Kiswahili is crap.  I had made arrangements to get a car that her father could lay down in and I was all ready to collect him and take him to the hospital.  Luckily, the neighbors had worked it out  and transported him .So I got Happy ready and headed out to the hospital.  Uchumi was gracious enough to agree to accompany me and translate where needed.

Upon arrival at the hospital I remembered that it was Sunday and that things were a little different than they should be.  You see, here in Tanzania at a government hospital, personnel don't work if not properly motivated. I caught up with the family and found out that they had bribed a doctor to see Ewaldi, Happy's father, and that he was getting evaluated and meds. Upon walking into his ward, I found 10 beds in a dark room all full of 2 sick men per bed.  You read that right... 2 men per twin bed.  Only 1 blanket per bed. I expected this but my heart was heavy none the less.

I have to admit that I embarrassingly could not identify which man was Ewaldi. Upon approaching his bed, I found a severely sick, somewhat emaciated man. I was only allowed a look before the doctor ushered me out.  Visiting hours are strict and I was an hour too early.  Since Happy is not allowed in the ward, we all quickly went out and found her with Uchumi and started a translated conversation.  

Ewaldi was able to tell his brother and sister today what was translated as "the bad words".  Upon leaving the family, I asked Uchumi what was specifically said, and this is what Ewaldi told them today:  

"This is the end of my life. Please  get me to Moshi [nearer the family home] so that my mother and father can see me one last time before I die." 

As a collaborative effort between me and his sister and brother, we will have Ewaldi moved either by taxi or ambulance (if we can bribe enough) tomorrow to a hospital in Moshi where his father can come down the mountain and see his son before he dies.  Other family members will also be able to stay with him to make sure he is fed, drinks water, and receives medical care as it won't be done without the supervision of family. 

The most heartbreaking part for me is... well there are so many things.  I guess the realization that Happy won't see her father again is a large sadness.  Well, we don't know for sure, but the reality is not looking good.   I guess i thought we still had time to go to the family compound, see her older brothers, and take pictures with all of them together with their father.  But I don't see that happening now.  Three weeks ago when I met up with her father, I paid for his bus fare to Marangu where his parents and other relatives live.  Now I am so happy I did that.  Without knowing it, I gave him an opportunity to see his family all together.  I hope that it wasn't the last time.  But reality is telling me that it might. 

In Tanzanian culture, the only real time you might ever see someone show fear of or tears about death is at the physical funeral.  And even then, emotion may not be shown at all.  We pretend its not a big deal.  Death and birth are so casually referenced here as they happen too often... and sometimes as one event.  But I'll admit to you that today, while driving home with a singing Happy in the back seat, I couldn't stop the single tears that wanted to fall.   Suppressing my emotions is something of Tanzanian culture that I thought I was mastering well...

But today I realized that I make for a terrible Tanzanian.  My child losing her father is not something that will ever be casual.  Its not something that I will ever forget.  And it is a big deal.  My heart breaks for Happy, Kelvin, and Julius.  And for Mama Ewaldi.  Mama's aren't supposed to bury their children. 

~Shae 

Shae's log: Its a bird, its a plane...

Even though the plagues have stopped, I am still keenly aware that something else rodently, bugly, or snakely may attack my apartment!  I guess you could say that i am in a constant state of Unagi.  So you have to understand how the events of 20 minutes ago played out...

So there I was, sitting in the dark innocently trolling the internet when the fear of all fears struck.  From out of nowhere, a bush baby (not a squirrel, not a monkey, not a rat-- but something in between) jumped into my lap.  As my computer and all accessories went tumbling over onto a crumpled blanket beside me, I managed to get my almost 7 month pregnant self to my feet and let out screeches that must have made my downstairs nighttime guard shutter.  As I leapt toward the light switch, I heard a high pitched sinister squeal echoing behind me.  As the light switch clicked, and the room became illuminated, I swung around only to find my sweet Happy girl in absolute hysterical laughter.  She was laughing so hard that she was at that moment, dead silent!  She finally let go an outrageous howl and she excitedly lapped for breath.  And of course, it is in this moment that I realize the terrifying bush baby was no bush baby at all!  Instead, I found laying there on the floor beside my chair, Happy's beloved "GiGi" baby doll.  Apparently, she had woken up and thrown it over her crib and perfectly into my lap!  And in the dark, my Unagi senses tricked me into believing that the rodents of Africa were on attack in my apartment.  How the hell a bush baby could have gotten into my apartment... well... I don't know!  But somehow in that split second my rational mind was gone and dreaded nature was out to get me.

It took another 10 minutes of both of us laughing, a few cuddles, and a song or two for me to finally settle her back down into her crib. Oh my goodness.  I just got bested by a two year old.  George Clooney-- the ultimate prankster-- would be proud.

Happy's passport better come soon because if I don't get out of here for a bit, I may just lose my mind!!!  :)  Thats right, comment below.  I'm ridiculous.

~Shae

Shae's log: The plague is over/yummy eats

YUM!

 

So, I think this 2nd trimester has been really good.  I've finally gotten a hold of the iron issue and WHADDAYAKNOW my headaches have gone away!  I'm so stupid.  I really should have realized that the headaches weren't normal.  Anyway, yesterday's lunch was just so beautiful that I had to take a picture.  I mean, look at all that color!  Rice, beef cooked in light olive oil with onions, bell peppers, carrots, and spice-- all topped off with fresh cut avocado, watermelon, apples(i found good ones) and the sweetest mango I've ever had in TZ.  Its this kind of meal that makes me believe that maybe my lack of weight gain is ok.  Because the oil is the fattiest thing that I ate all day.  Everything else that I eat is so pure and nutritious.  The baby is moving around a lot and growing so I'm starting to worry less and less.  Gosh, how I will miss this good food when I am back in the U.S. Sure, sure, I can buy it in the grocery... but chemical free?  Cheap?  And straight off the vine/tree?  Nope.  Not possible in the city.  


On a side note, the plagues of Tanzania are over.  The ants have subsided, the water is clear again, the crickets have moved on.  Peace has been restored. 

~Shae

Shae's log: Maji Moto

The main pool of Maji Moto

Tanzania has a lot of interesting landscape and beautiful nature.  One such example is Maji Moto.  The words "maji moto" translate to "hot water".  So that was the destination on Sunday... get to the hot water spring.  Little did I know prior to our early morning journey that our trip out to the "hot water" would take almost 2 hours and a detour off the main roads onto 18 kilometers of rough, dusty, rocky terrain.  It wasn't until we were half-way there that the lead driver in our caravan of cars pulls up beside me (while I was stopped by the local Tanzanian police--- this makes #26!) and says, "hey, do you have a spare tire?"  My reply, "no. do I need one?" and he says to me "well, we are going on rough roads for quite a ways".  Great.  Information I could have used a few days ago (spare tires are expensive and not standard for your car. life very different here!).  Anyway, Mt. Kilimanjaro was out for all to see and in my experience with Kili, only good things have happened on the days when I've seen it.  So, I tempted fate and away we went. 

One of the awesome trees on our way.  Felt very safari like!

"Shikamoo!" (Smooth roads + no traffic = Lauren jumped out to get the shot!)

While on our way there and back, I would occasionally greet the people in the villages we passed.  All the children on the side of the roads were so polite and respectful.  NEVER did we hear a single child shout "white woman" but instead they exchanged respectful greetings which inspired me to also extend those same greetings to any elder I saw along the way.  The older men and women turned furrowed brows into big smiles whenever I slowed down the car to minimize the dust they had to breathe from the back tires of my car.  And their faces beamed as I would call "Shikamoo" (literal translation : I am at your feet (clasp your feet).  But the sentiment is this: I respectfully greet you, my elder).  They would immediately call back "Marahaba" (literal translation:  I accept your greeting/acknowledgment/blessing.  But the sentiment is this:  I acknowledge your respect of me, your elder).  There are some negative origins of this greeting. However, I have been told by many of my Tanzanian elders who speak English that they appreciate the greeting to them by a younger person-- nomatter the nationality.  I have seen older Tanzanians shun younger Tanzanians who do not offer the proper greeting.  I have always heeded the sage advice given to me by those who have lived a bit past myself.  So extending this respect is something I'm proud to do.

The banks of the springs-- can you see the rope swing?  I SOOO wanted to jump. But alas, with baby on board... not a good move!

Happy wasn't keen on the springs so she took refuge with Megan.

 

 

 

Happy loves hanging with Auntie Loz and looking at her "pichas"

Most of the good pictures Lauren has on her camera.  I will get those from her later and add to this post.  But in the meantime, I hope you've enjoyed some shots I took from my little point-and-shoot.  Maji Moto was not necessarily hot water, but the water WAS warm and crystal clear!  It was absolutely beautiful. Happy didn't enjoy it, but had fun with my other friends who were there while I took a little dip.  Again, I'll show those "shae in the water" pictures later when I get them! 

~Shae

"I'll drive us home, mama. I have the keys!"

"See, I'm an excellent driver!"