River Cruise

Now that Brandt has bored you with the science part of our trip, I thought I’d fill in some of the non-science details. After a day of touring research facilities, Tanya gathered up a crew of people and a case of Kilimanjaro beer and we headed down to the river for a canoe ride. The road out of town runs directly into the river. There’s a barely buoyant ferry that takes cars, people, bikes, chickens, cows, whatever across the river to the road on the other side. This is the only connection to the villages on the other side of the river. There are no bridges. To the side of the ferry there a small collection fisherman with their dugout canoes. We paid them a few thousand shillings and they took us for a sunset cruise. One fishman stood in the front and the other in the back and we sat four to a canoe in between. They used long wooden poles to drag the boat upstream through the tall grassy vegetation where the current is weaker. We were surrounded by the lush green river floodplain and looked out on blue mountains in the background. It was so peaceful. In the grass there were weaved birdnests hanging on the blades. Brandt was in the front of our canoe and the fisherman, trying to be a helpful ecotour guide, pick one of the blades of grass with a nest on it. Then he laughs and says mtoto, the Swahili word for child, and hands Brandt the blade with the nest. This is a word we know and sure enough when he peaks inside he finds a little baby bird which he promptly hands to me. Unsure what to do or say about it, I pass the bird back to Tanya. She’s horrified and starts and tells the guy that the baby has lost it’s mother. And the response is yeah, he’s lost his mother. Tanya try to stick the blade back in the water, not that it’s going to do any good. This bird is a definite gonner but the fisherman says no and takes the blade and nest back and sets it in the front of the boat. Tanya says they know that we’re interested in animals and nature and they think they’re helping. Apparently, a group of bird watchers came and they had these guys take them downriver to camp. They knew that the mzungu wanted to see birds so during the night they caught one and tied its legs to a stick stuck in the middle of the camp. They are honestly trying to be helpful but there’s a bit of a culture gap I guess you could say. One of the resident scientists happened to get up first and was able to liberate the bird before the guests woke up. We continued on to a sandbar where we pulled up for a rest before turning back downstream. The sky was starting to turn pink with the sunset and it was just getting more beautiful. The fisherman, accustomed to mzungu with cameras, wanted their photos taken. I was the only one with a camera so each in turn they struck a pose and I took their portraits, one of which is included below. They were really friendly and wanted to talk with us. They were very patient with our broken Swahili and tried to teach us words as they showed off what English words they knew. I would say this was one of our best interactions with Tanzanians since we got here. After the fisherman had time to finish a bear, we headed back to the ferry crossing. We were floating out in the middle of the river channel, enjoying the setting sun. Then we heard this big splash sound, I look to the left where the noise came from just in time to this huge wake in the water immediately next to the canoe. Tanya asks the fisherman what that was. Mamba he replies…Crocodile! I had just stopped swirling my fingers in the water on that side of the boat just prior to the splash. I don’t know if that drew his attention or if we just happened to come up upon him and he had submerge to swim under the boat. Either way, it was quickly getting dark and we were all of a sudden ready to not be in these rickety homemade canoes any longer. By the imprint of his body in the water, that croc wouldn’t have had any trouble getting himself some tasty dinner by tipping our boat over. Fortunately, that was our last wildlife interaction for the day and we made it back to shore just as it became fully dark.

Happy Easter

Sorry we've fallen behind on our blog posts again. We've had trouble getting access to a decent internet connection again and then everything was closed down here from Thursday through yesterday day to celebrate Easter and a Muslim holiday. We'll try to get caught up again this week. I just sold out to The Man and added Ad Sense to our blog. We get money every time you click on the ad so if you want to contribute to the fund to get us living in a rat-free apartment, put those high speed internet connections to work!!

Science in the Bush

As Robyn wrote in her last entry, we FINALLY got outside of Dar for a trip to a research station located in Ifakara. The research station is owned and operated by the Ifakara Health and Development Research Center (IHRDC). IHRDC is a Tanzanian non-governmental organization. It has offices and labs in DAR, Bagamoyo, and Ifakara. It get money from all types of funding agencies—The Gates Foundation, USAID, and the Swiss Tropical Institute to name a few. Most of the researchers are Tanzanians, as a main focus of IHRDC is development and strengthening of Tanzania’s ability to study and combat disease on its own with its own citizens. They focus mainly on malaria, ranging from lab and clinical work on vaccine development to field research on mosquito behavior to public health work. Overall, it is a really nice and very diverse organization.
Back in the States I had gotten in contact with the head of one of labs at IHRDC, and was invited out to see the facility and meet with the scientists. It took a long time to get things going once I got here but I was really excited to finally be able to do what I came over here to do. Now, I really had no idea what kind of lab facilities that they would have out in the heart of rural Tanzania. To have a properly outfitted lab (in the US) you needed -80oC and -20oC freezers, clean water, uninterrupted electricity, the ability to get supplies, reagents, etc. We just assume that all these will be present and readily available/accessible in the States. But here, who knows. Hell, here in the “modern” metropolis of Dar es Salaam, we experience water or electricity outages on a regular basis. It would have to be worse out there, right?
After a nine-hour train ride, Robyn and I arrived at the Ifaraka train station at about 5:30 on Monday evening and were greeted by a driver from the station. We threw our stuff and our selves into the back of a land cruiser and headed off to the guesthouse. The guesthouse was located on the grounds of the IHRDC campus and very close to the Regional hospital (St. Francis). It was beautiful: airy, light, and modern. Our room had air-conditioning (which we greedily used) and a TV! A bit of the West surrounded by beautiful, rural Africa.
Robyn and I spent the next three days being shown about the labs by Dr. Tanya Russell (a fantastic scientist and wonderful guide). The projects were interesting and varied. One project was looking at various natural fungi as potential biological alternatives to chemical insecticides which are sprayed in people’s homes, another project was testing different mixtures of chemicals that are found in human sweat to make powerful attractants for mosquitoes—all in hopes of building the ultimate mosquito trap. All the projects here are being pursued by young Tanzanian graduate students. These students would make any professor proud due to their enthusiasm and their knowledge. It was truly a pleasure to meet with them and ask them about their work.
As far as the physical infrastructure, it was better than a lot of labs in the US. Brand new equipment…PCR machines, microarray and FACS machines. Brightly lit white rooms with good benches and computers everywhere. Truly impressive considering that one can get to Ifakara via one train (8-9 hours) or one highway (8 hours). Ordering supplies is a bit tough (no next-day deliveries), but I guess you just order everything at once and you order a lot. They recently bought most of the equipment and are currently in the process of expanding their research interests to utilize the great facilities.
The time spent at the labs was great, but my most memorable experience was the time we went spent out in the field. Robyn and I were invited to go out to a village (about an hour away) where IHRDC was currently collecting mosquitoes. Actually, that is a bit of a simplistic description of the project. For the past three months and for the next twenty-one, IHRDC researchers are going out and collecting mosquitoes every Monday-Friday from 6 abodes per night in each of two villages. A group of five to six Tanzanians, some scientists and some helpers, go out to six houses at dusk and set up mosquito traps. The houses are randomly chosen and thus randomly placed, so it takes several hours to drive and walk to them all. One hut took us over 20 minutes of serious mud-running to get to. With any vehicle less than our Toyota land cruiser and our experienced driver, everybody would have been knee-deep in black mud trying to push the truck out to solid ground (most likely unsuccessfully). After setting traps in the six homes, we got some food-- fish and rice for me, beans and rice for Robyn. After dinner, we got a warm beer at the only bar in the village center, and then back to our small room (a twin bed and a small table) in a house with no running water for some sleep. We got up at 6:30 AM the next morning and headed out to recollect the traps.
After retrieving the traps, we grabbed a quick and sparse breakfast, after which the work really begins. For any of you who are bored with your jobs, just imagine doing the following 4-5 days a week, every week, for two years straight. The researchers then have to count and categorize every mosquito (species, male or females, has it fed, etc.), along with several tests for a certain number of mosquitoes in each trap. During the dry seasons, they said they catch between 5 and 60 mosquitoes per trap per night. However, the wet season recently started and that is bad news for the humans. The traps we saw had well over 1000 mosquitoes each! Just think that each and every one of those 1000 mosquitoes is looking to take a drink from you--in a single night. It makes our nightly ritual of sealing our room back in Dar seem quite pathetic in hindsight. One of the field researchers (a fisherman who was taught to be an entomology field hand about twenty years ago) said that in his house several years ago, researchers counted the highest number of mosquitoes ever recorded in a single room. That number? 6000!!!! When asked about where the house was, Jefferths replied, “Over there. Down that road.” Someone then asked, “Is it still there?” “No”, Jefferths replied, “It fell down”. Well good riddance I say! I now understand why this region was named “Ifakara” and is roughly translated as “Valley of Death”.
After just one night and day in the field, Robyn and I said our thank-yous and our good-byes to the group and headed back to our outpost of comfort while the others stayed behind to continue their daily ritual. Regardless of the mind-numbing repetition, this work is incredibly important. So here’s to them!
Sadly, we left Friday morning on a bus back to Dar. Overall, it was the best week we have had in Africa--we learned a lot, and saw things few ever get to see. We talked science, met Swiss doctors working in the HIV clinic in town, rode in narrow wood canoes up the river (and almost hit a crocodile on our way back in), and were welcomed into rural Tanzanians mud huts which where no more than a jail cell in size. And in every encounter we had, the Tanzanians where friendly, courteous, and happy. This is what I was looking for in Africa. I really hope we get the opportunity go back.

Africa Found!

You may not have realized it was lost, but it has been missing entirely from our lives in Dar. Bright and early Monday morning, we took an air pollution-laden, traffic jam packed taxi ride to the Tazara train station. For approximately $10 each, we bought first class tickets to Ifakara, Tanzania and we finally found the Africa we all know from National Geographic and PBS nature shows. We knew it was out there but it has made all the difference in our morale to see it with our own two eyes. Ifakara is a village about 250 miles southwest of Dar. It took us 9 hours to get here on an aging train that stopped at every village along the way. The landscape turned endlessly green immediately upon leaving Dar. The rolling hills and pastures of corn and banana trees were accompanied by small clusters of homes made of mud or locally kilned mud bricks and roofed by grass thatch or tin. The villages were uncannily spaced exactly 20 minutes apart. At each stop, the train was welcomed by a horde of local villagers selling hardboiled eggs, chicken legs, grilled ears of corn, fried bananas, peanuts, essentially whatever they had for food in the village. First class consisted of one or two cars at the very end of the train that had 6 compartments with bunks for sleeping four and a small table by the window. The crowd of vendors clustered at the front end of the train where the coach class cars were jammed full of people. Although few vendors made it down our way, we were “welcomed” by small groups of boys that would stand outside the window and shout for soap (they’d learned that people in first class were given small soap bars upon boarding the train), empty water bottles and money. I threw out one of our bars to a small, unhappy looking child at the first stop. Without saying thank you or having any reaction to the soap at all, he immediately began demanding money as he scowled up at me. It was really awkward and made me wish I had never given him the soap. It’s distressing that children have been trained to beg at the train when they should be in school. After the first stop, we slid into the cabin when they approached to try and avoid the situation as best we could.

On route, the train passed through the northern part of the Selous Game Reserve. My mantra leading up to the trip was that I just wanted was to see was one giraffe--just one single giraffe. As we entered the game reserve, the endless green shifted from crops to natural vegetation- grassland dotted with shrubs and trees. The first wildlife came in the form of what we think were impala and other species of ungulates. Our adrenaline kicked in and we starred fixated out the window wondering what more we’d see. Just as Brandt said he wanted to check the map to see where we were but didn’t want to take the chance that he’d miss something, the wildlife was upon us…a couple of giraffes standing awkwardly by a stand of tall trees a few hundred yards off, a herd of zebra stampeding away from the train, followed by a herd of wildebeest. It all came so quickly it was hard to take it in and then we came upon a single giraffe that seemed to have just noticed there was a huge loud train going by. He was really close and he was trying to run away but it looked like he was having to run in an arc rather than directly away to keep from wiping out due to the weight of his head which was being left behind by his legs. I have never seen anything like it ever. It seemed to move in slow motion, both awkward and graceful at the same time. Our eyes remained fixed out the window for the rest of the trip through the reserve. We spotted several more giraffe, these incredibly large vultures, some warthogs off in the distance, and a back end view of a yellow baboon (which I thought was a lion at first from the color) quite close to the tracks. The train-by view of all these animals was so awesome, I can only imagine what it will be like when we go on safari and get to take our time to really watch it all. At the train stop for the reserve, what we assume were rangers, dressed in green fatigues and armed with huge rifles, boarded the train. As they were picking up their packs, some one from the compartment next to us dropped two foil tin containers and some plastic utensils out the window into the vegetation bordering (apparently the need to litter goes unimpeded everywhere and at all times). One of the rangers that was helping load luggage spotted it and marched over yelling at the guy, picked up the trash and demanded that the man take it back into the train. Tanzanians are notoriously non-confrontational, so I think culturally this was a big deal. I was so happy to see a Tanzanian taking on the littering that I cheered him on, saying “very good” to him in my pathetic Swahili. He smiled broadly up at me and welcomed me back to the reserve. Cynically, Brandt said he expected to see the tin come back out the window shortly after we pulled away but as far as we know it never did. One small step in the enormous battle to save Tanzania from burying itself in a continuous layer of garbage. After the game reserve, the landscape shifted back to agriculture. In the flat expanse of the Kilombero valley nestled between the Uluguru and Udzungwa mountains (see photo), it was rice paddy interrupted occasionally by sugar cane and corn as we approached our destination. Ifakara is the main village in the valley is famous for its rice and its massive mosquito density (Brandt read that they had once counted 6,000 mosquitos inside a single room house). This latter feature has made it a hot spot for malaria research. We’re hoping the outcome of this visit will be an opportunity for Brandt to work for the Ifakara Health Research and Development Center and the end of days in Dar. Fingers crossed everyone.

Mosquito Watch: The Movie

I came home sick from the university the other day (intestinal distress is extra unpleasant in the bathrooms there) and I started watching “The Making of The Big Lebowski” (yes, the DVD situation is already that bad…I always assumed no one ever watches the version of the movie with voiceover from the cast and director but I’m positive we’ll get there and we’ll be sure to let you know how that goes). So anyway, inspired by the genius that is the Coen Brothers, I set out to test out the famous movie editing features of Brandt’s new Mac. We’ve made a few video clips during Robert Neville time (none those kinds of videos so no need to go there). They’re all me interviewing Brandt except this little gem that was written, directed, produced and staring me (well, my voice anyway) with a cameo by Brandt. Enjoy!

P.S. Let us know if you can’t view it. I’m not sure what format is best. This one can be played in Quicktime. UPDATE: the movie is too large to upload right now; we are working on a solution. Sorry!!

Dirty and Clean at the Same Time

As you all know (well, those who have read all our blog entries), I’ve never set foot one onto soil in a developing country. Little did I know, at least here in Dar, that the soil was mostly covered in garbage. Everywhere you look-- plastic bottles, newspaper, mango pits, coconut shells, coke bottle caps, plastic bags, etc. Trash covers every area we have been to in the city, rich or poor. When you walk down the street, if someone in front you has a wrapper in their hands--thwip--on the ground it goes. Done drinking that delicious warm bottled water, “I guess I’ll just throw it down right here on the dirt path along the road, good a place as any”. While at first it appalled me to see people living surrounded by garbage (though, oddly and surprisingly, the streets don’t really smell aside from the toxic amount of air pollution), after living here for a while, you come to realize that it is ingrained in the culture of the city. They don’t seem to see it as disgusting, it is just something to walk over and ignore. Playing a hand in this mess (literally), is the city’s sanitation department. Really, waste pick-up is almost non-existent in most areas. The government just doesn’t have the money. There are the occasional places where the trash is in a higher concentration and resembles a pile. I don’t know if these sites are official. But every couple of days, plus or minus a couple of days, some guys in a large rickety flat bed truck roll by and pick up about 90% of the pile. The rest just sits there and gets kicked and blown all over the area.

Whereas the streets are trashed and the dirt is actually dirty, the average Tanzanian we see walking or taking the daladala to work are immaculately clean. The women are all wearing spotless, colorful wraps or very nice long skirts and blouses. The men often wear dress pants and long sleeve dress shirts that look like they just came off the dry-cleaner’s hangers. Honestly, you’d think some of these guys were execs at fortune 500 companies. To keep your leather shoes clean, there is a small stall every fifty yards on the main roads where you can get your shoes polished. I have never been able to keep whites as white as the Tanzanians do, and here in Dar, we live in a dirt bowl surrounded by trash and everybody does laundry by hand. The cleanliness of individuals also extends to their cars, we constantly see drivers washing their taxis anywhere they can get water—be it a faucet or a random puddle along side the road. Rarely do we see a dirty car driving down these dusty streets.

It has been really interesting to see the strong juxtaposition of the maintenance of the individual and their possessions and the maintenance their city and environment. We’ll post some good trash pictures soon!!

T.I.T.S.

Although we're still spending 5 nights a week Robert Nevilled in our room, we have made friends with a group of ex-pats (mostly South Africans but with a few other nationalities mixed in) that give us a reason to escape from the house of horrors one or two nights a week. Many of them are born and raised in Africa and they are a wealth of knowledge on how to get by here. They've also taught us some catchy acronyms like T.I.T.S. - This Is Tanzania Stupid and A.W.A - Africa Wins Again. They apply to all the whacky encounters we have, like the fact that no merchant, (especially the taxi drivers) ever has any change for any amount no matter what. We once had to pay $10 for a $3 cab ride because the guy insisted he had no change--A.W.A!!. Or when Brandt went to meet the guy he thought he was going to work for here at a time they set up 3 days earlier, to then walk into his office and find that the guy had left Dar for Morogoro and would be back in a week. Or when the power goes out for 5 hours just because it rained a little, we can't get mad because T.I.T.S. Or when eating at a nice tourist resort in Zanzibar results in two weeks of unstoppable "intestinal distress" to use Brandt's euphemism -A.W.A. These acronyms can be used at twice a day simply because T.I.T.S!!! Anyway, here's a happy photo of us with some of the new friends at the birthday party we went to last weekend. It ain't all bad.



P.S. Post more comments when you read the blog! We get excited to see people's responses and then we cry when there are none. Quit slacking (everyone that's not J)!!