Uru Shimbwe

Monday - Wednesday, February 18 - 20, 2019

Today we began our trip to Uru Shimbwe, a Chagga village north of Moshi, up in the foothills of Kilimanjaro. We have been going there ever since 2012, either with students or family guests, and this time with just ourselves and Mary Lou. John arranges for us to stay in the home of the Catholic Archbishop for Tanzania, whom we have never met. However his brother Adolph and nephew, Victor, have become friends and host us in the Archbishop’s huge house when we are there. It’s a wonderfully quiet and beautiful place to be. Mount Kilimanjaro usually makes dramatic appearances in the early morning and evenings, but hides behind clouds during the day.

Our view of Kilimanjaro.

 We all got up a bit earlier than usual, and by 9:10 we were out by the highway, waiting to wave down a “coaster,” a smaller sized bus with real seats—usually. By 9:10, a coaster stopped for us, and we were on our way to Moshi. There were three seats as promised, but they were ones that folded down in the aisle between the regular upholstered seats. Sitting lower than the other passengers made it difficult to see out the windows, but the seats weren’t as uncomfortable as I had thought they might be. I counted regular seats for 24, and there were 36 people in the bus.There was only one stop along the way, so by10:50 we were at the Moshi bus depot. The entire trip cost us each 3000 Tsch ($1.30), a truly remarkable bargain.

Victor had said he’d meet us in Moshi, but his father was in the hospital, so he sent his brother Richard to get us and take us up to the village. We stood by the big mosque until Rich came, and then he stopped by a grocery store so we could buy snacks and water. After that, we began the climb up and up on the dirt road, one switchback after another. There were women coming down the hills, carrying large bunches of bananas on their heads. Rich said they walk 15 kms down into Moshi to sell their bananas and then climb all the way back to the village.

Just when I thought neither the car nor I could take another jolt, we arrived at the Archbishop’s house. Once we were unloaded and shown our rooms, we had time to tidy up a bit before we went up to the second floor balcony, where we were going to have all our meals. John and I had a first floor room, while Mary Lou was on the second floor right beside the veranda. The house has many rooms, six of which are ample bedrooms, each with its own full bath. The Archbishop’s quarters are on the third floor, and John, who has actually stayed in them, says they are even more simple than the guest rooms.  Victor is currently building four more single rooms on the west side of the house, where there had been small balconies. He hopes to increase his tourist business, especially with people who want to relax  for a day or two after they have summitted Kili.

The gate into the compound.

John is looking down from the second floor balcony.

The front part of the compound.

Mary Lou's room. Ours was similar though slightly larger.

We were relaxing on the balcony, when Alex, the cutest chef ever, came with fresh fruit juice for us. That was soon followed by a lunch of beef stew, rice, pickled mangoes, and greens. Alex made a dramatic entrance carrying the hot pot of rice on his head.  The food was excellent, even the pickled mangoes, which I wasn’t certain I would like. There was always hot water, tea, and coffee available on the veranda whenever we wanted any.

Alex bringing our lunch.

After lunch we had an open afternoon in which we could do anything or nothing. I chose to nap and read, while John and Mary Lou decided to take a short walk down the road and explore the nearby farms. Chagga villages are not a group of houses in a circle or gathered close together with fields around the village Instead, because of the many sharp ridges and deep ravines, houses are built along the top of the ridges and seem very strung out. The main crops traditionally have been bananas and coffee, which grow well together, as the banana trees shade the coffee trees, which need shielding from the sun. Now, however, people are beginning to construct terraces so they can grow more maize. They are destroying the soil by clearing the trees and natural plants.  Victor, who is very ecologically aware, laments this destruction of the natural balance of traditional agriculture.

Village women.

A typical shamba.

A woman carrying a large load of grass back to her cow, which lives in confined quarters.

Part of the glacial runoff water system the Chagga use for irrigation.

Terracing

Deforestation caused by terracing.

Alex served dinner soon after 8:00 p.m. It was a vegetarian meal, with a mushroom sauce on rice and mushroom pizza. Soon after we finished our meal, Victor appeared. He had been at the hospital with his father all day and seemed very tired. However, he outlined the schedule for the next day, when he would lead John and Mary Lou on a hike to a nearby waterfalls. This hike would be impossible for me even with my somewhat improved ankle.

There was a huge, bright moon, so we all enjoyed that and the dark silhouette of Kili looming to our north before we finally retired for the night. When I took my evening shower, I noted how soft the water was, probably because it is glacial run-off.

We all got up early Tuesday morning since Victor wanted to leave the house at 7:30. Mount Kilimanjaro was out in all her splendor, so we took a lot of photos before the clouds moved in to cover her for the day.  Alex served us a breakfast of omelet, crêpes, and French toast (?) with plenty of honey. He was wearing a different chef’s uniform, which matched our tablecloths. Right at 7:30, Victor appeared and the hikers got into his car for the drive to the trailhead. I have only seen this hike and the waterfall through photos others have taken, and it looks beautiful. John says that the hike has some demanding parts to it, so I was surprised when they all returned by 11:00.

I'm enjoying my breakfast with Kili behind me.

Alex's second uniform.

John and Mary Lou at the waterfall.

While we all sat up on the second floor veranda and I listened to reports of the hike, Alex brought us a large platter heaped with avocados, bananas, and pineapple and watermelon slices.  Lunch was served at 1:30, and although I cannot remember all we had, I remember there was both rice and mashed potatoes, which were excellent. I think the stew was with chicken. And, as with all meals, there were sliced avocados.

I had spent my morning reading and intended to continue in the afternoon. On the main floor of the house, there is a large lounge with sofas all along the side walls. This is where we usually met with students to hear Victor’s Bibi recount her life as a young wife, then widow, who raised 5 remarkable children, one of whom is now the Catholic Archbishop of Tanzania. She kept her promise to her husband that all the children would get educations even though that took great effort and sacrifice on her part. I had been hoping to see her again, but she died last December. Victor told us that he still has not recovered from the trauma of this loss, and we could see vestiges of the funeral and family gatherings in the stacks of plastic chairs not yet returned, the newly constructed grave with flowers on it, and the extra people still staying on in the compound. As a side note, Victor said he had to buy 25 big buckets of mbege, the local banana beer, for the funeral meal.

Victor's Bibi.

Bibi's grave next to the house.

Mary Lou wanted to walk into the main village “center” which consists of a Catholic church and school, a dispensary, and a few bars along the road. I don’t think John was as eager as she to take this walk, but he did it. When he returned, he gave me a report on Mama and Baba Tesha’s retirement house, which is almost completed.  I always liked their old house with its outdoor kitchen and have good memories of gatherings and meals there.

Local school children.

At 7:30, Alex served us dinner for which the main course was spaghetti with a very different, barely tomato sauce and mince. Victor had been in Moshi all afternoon at the hospital with his father, but he came back up the hills to meet with us again at 8:30. He had told us about an indigenous plant, the oysternut, which grows on vines attached to large trees. In the past, the Chagga had ground and pressed these nuts for oil. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Telfairia_pedata)  Now, however, it much easier to buy a bottle of oil in a shop, and so most of the oysternut vines have been destroyed. Victor is trying to reintroduce this plant into Chagga life by raising seedlings, which he gives away free to Chagga farmers. Once there are more vines bearing the fruit, Victor hopes to have constructed a press for processing the nuts for oil. Also staying in the house—though we almost never saw them—was a young couple, she from France, he from Madagascar, who are volunteers helping to raise the seedlings. Victor said he would take us to visit a place where oysternut vines grow on our return trip to Moshi the next morning.

Oysternuts. We ate the nut from the opened shells.

Soon after we turned in for the night, there was a vigorous storm with strong winds. Since John didn’t realize that there was sliding glass for the windows, we had an exciting time for about 30 minutes while the wind blew our drapes up and over our bed.

The next morning, all was calm and bright, and Kili was once again unclouded and beautiful. For breakfast we had the best scrambled eggs I have ever eaten, deep fried potato slices, crêpes, wonderful bread, and avocado slices. Victor wanted to take John and Mary Lou to see the land he has bought right next to the border of the Mount Kilimanjaro National Park. He plans to create a camping site there for climbers who want to acclimatize some before making their climbs. I had thought I could ride along and perhaps even walk around the site, but Victor did not think that would be possible for me, so I was left behind again. While the others were gone, I packed up for our return to Arusha and read some more. At Uru Shimbwe, I finished reading The Burgess Boys by Elizabeth Strout, and also read She Would be King by Wayétu Moore and Blackbird by Jennifer Lauck.

Breakfast with the best scrambled eggs ever.

The hikers ready to go.

A local pub.

John stirring a big pot of mbege, the local banana beer.

Mary Lou tasting mbege. The master brewer is in the background.

As soon as the hikers returned, we loaded up and headed out on a different road than usual. Victor said that his grandfather had built this second road to and from the village so that if someone blocked the road we normally use, he and his family could still get out and down to Moshi. Very soon, we stopped at a shamba, where Victor took us into the banana and coffee groves to show us the oysternut vines and explain more about how they grow. Unfortunately there was no fruit on the vines at this time, but we did see little seedlings growing on the ground, and empty nut hulls all over.

Bananas are grown everywhere.

Coffee trees are grown among the bananas.

An oysternut seedling.

Then, it was back in the car and more jolting through the forest until we finally joined the paved road back into Moshi. Victor was coming to Arushi with us because he had a problem with his phone which he needed to resolve. I don’t know how we would have survived without him at the bus depot. There were gangs of men who jostled, grabbed, and pushed possible passengers toward “their” buses. We were literally shoved up into a bus in which we had been assured were three empty seats. There were absolutely no empty seats, so we fought our way back out and went to another bus, all the while struggling against over aggressive touts. We found a much smaller bus which was fairly empty, climbed in, and waited over half an hour until the rest of the seats were filled. All the while, we watched as the gangs manhandled young women and older men, shoving them toward the buses they wanted to cram full. Some of the younger women looked as if they were in tears. I couldn’t believe it; it was similar to scenes from “The Gangs of New York.” I could imagine this happening in the Congo or even in Kenya, but it was something I had never expected to see in Tanzania.

Once we left the bus depot, we had a very uneventful ride back to Arusha. We said good-bye to Victor just before the bus stopped and let us off right across the highway from Kundayo Road..  Ray saw us and came to help carry our bags, and by 4:00 we were safely back home.

Since we hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast except some gingernut cookies, John decided to get us some kuku na chipsies, and we had a very early dinner. I had washed my hands and face before dinner and was appalled how incredibly dirty the water and washcloth became. So, once we had eaten, I took a long shower. Then, I watched a bit of MSNBC. The news seemed pretty much the same as it had been before we left, so I turned off the TV and went to bed.