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Journey to Tanzania
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January 29, 2022Greetings! I had two uneventful flights to get me to Tanzania, but unfortunately I was not able to sleep on either flight (20 hours in duration).
After my antigen test when I arrived in Dar es Salaam, I was met by a security guard who had my photo on his phone. A police officer friend of Fr. Nestor’s arranged to have these two security guards get me through customs and to my luggage.
I was greeted outside the airport by Sr. Beatrice and Sr. Rustica (Fr. Nestor’s sisters) and their friend Dr. Angela. They take me on the 25-minute trip to my hotel in Dar. I’m exhausted as I was unable to sleep on Wednesday night. It’s now 12:30 a.m. and they will be back to get me at 6:30 a.m. to go back to the airport for my flight to Mbeya. Thankfully, I fall asleep quickly and wake up at 5:15 a.m. so I can take a shower before departing for the airport. I shave, brush my teeth, and then try to shower, which I’ve been anxiously awaiting. I turn on the shower and there is no water to be had. Ugh!
Off to the airport for my flight to Mbeya. I board my flight in a medium-sized prop plane, and somehow I’m okay with all of this (nervous flyer); it must be the prayers of so many good people.
Ninety minutes later I am in a tiny airport in Mbeya, but I don't see Fr. Nestor. I call him on WhatsApp and he explains that he has had car problems: “I’ll be there in 40 minutes,” he says. Fifty minutes later, I call him again. “I’m negotiating with the police, I’ll call you back.” Fifteen minutes later Fr. Nestor arrives.
We begin our 200 kilometer trip to his residence. Conversation is delightful; we simply pick up where we left off one year ago. An hour into our trip, we stop at a hotel for lunch. When we return to his truck, it won’t start. He goes into the hotel and returns with three men (and then a fourth joins us). Fr. Nestor says, “We’re going to do this the African way.” The truck has a manual transmission so we’re pushing it while Fr. Nestor is trying to release the clutch. We finally get the truck to a hill and push it; while rolling down the hill, the truck’s engine kicks in.
We continue our journey on a two-lane road where we have to pass semis while in the lane with oncoming traffic. We saw one semi on its side on the side of one hill and another accident later. Twice Fr. Nestor was waved over by police to stop (for exceeding speed limit). Since Fr. Nestor had his priest collar on, no tickets were issued. Forty-five minutes from our destination, Fr. Nestor pulled over at the home of the man who had helped him earlier in the day. He added water to the radiator and tightened something else. The man told Fr. Nestor that his mother goes to the INUKA Hospital for rehab; Fr. Nestor gave him his card: “Now your mother knows someone at INUKA”. I was struck by how friendly and helpful strangers are in Tanzania.
We finally arrived at Fr. Nestor’s home; the water was working but there was no electricity. We walked to the INUKA hospital just down the road to have dinner. When we returned from dinner there still was no electricity so I used the flashlight on my phone. And when I went to use the facilities, I discovered we had no water. I used a bucket of water from the barrel in my bathroom to flush the toilet.I was struck by how friendly and helpful strangers are in Tanzania.
Exhausted, I climbed into my mosquito-netted bed anxious for a good night’s rest. At 1 a.m., I was awakened by a goat outside my window and what sounded like a distressed person. (There are goats, chickens, and pigs on the property). I took a zolpidem to help me sleep, and some 45 minutes later, with the sounds continuing outside my window, I fell asleep.
In the morning, Fr. Nestor told me the sounds were that of an old goat. In the morning, the electricity returned, so I charged my phone, but still there was no water. After breakfast with Nestor, I return to my room. It’s now been three days since I’ve had a shower, so even though it means I will have to take a “bucket shower” (a first for me), I’m up for it.
There is a barrel of water in my bathroom. With the electricity back on, Fr. Nestor shows me how to heat the water in a pot. I make three pots of hot water to add to room temperature water in a large pail. Initially, the water is too hot, but I get the hang of it. What a relief it was to have a shower after three days!
At lunchtime, we drive the short distance to the hospital for our meal (we don't walk due to the monsoon-like rains). When we return from lunch, the electricity is out again and still there is no water. Somehow, I’m rolling with all of this, and am treasuring my time with Fr. Nestor. It has to be the prayers of so many dear friends and the good people of Saints Peter and Paul.