Archive for March, 2013

Thoughts from Tory.
I woke at midnight and sadly, didn’t get back to sleep. Turns out, day 3 is a good one for jet lag. The alarm was set for 4 am anyway, so shower, wash the kids clothes and hang it out, out for breakfast (bread and bananas, with a cup o’ tea), then the bus to the stadium by 5am. It was so dark, they were still setting up, the stadium is dirt with some grass in the middle, a volleyball court on the side and some other nets around the place. Meat was being barbecued for later, the air was think with smoke, and runners were starting to file in. After a while, the music started – cheesy dance music at about 3000 decibels, and the MC kept reminding us of the various start times. The loos were Asian, with no TP supplied,  much to some of the American girls horror. Fortunately, I’ve been to third world countries before, so came prepared. Of course.

The first glimpse of the top of Mt Kilimanjaro in the pre dawn light was so special. It has been shrouded in cloud and haze since we got here, although we haven’t been able to see it early in the morning before. It was stunning, truly breathtaking and both Charlie and I felt a little sad that we won’t climb it. We’ll find other cool things to do, though, don’t worry.

It was so cool to see the startling crowded with scrawny fast Kenyans and Tanzanians, who sprinted off the start to get the advantage on the bend. The nature of the course with two ‘in and out’ legs meant that we could see the lead pack and eventual winner streak past through the morning. I settled in to my style – waving, high fiving kids, being laughed at by women, comments from men (I choose to believe they were just cheering), as I occasionally curtseyed in return. I suspect many of them had never seen anything quite like me 😉 I was rocking my NYM outfit – named T shirt and Jodi Lee Foundation tutu, getting a few call outs for ‘Toe Ree’ and thoroughly enjoying myself. It was a cool flat run for most of the first 12-14k, out of town and back again, then a loop through Moshi which included small hills. Several thousand people were lining the street the whole way, creating a very festive atmosphere. I was joined by groups of kids for kilometers at a time, and at one stage, by a man on a bike for over 10k!

We went back past the stadium at the half way mark, already a km or so into our climb. The climb continued until 31.5 km, through smaller villages, past coffee plantations, people going about their day – burning rubbish (choking on smoke), carrying enormous bunches of bananas (they may be plantains – I am not sure of the official difference), washing clothes, watching the world go by. As we climbed higher, it became a little cooler (very welcome) and we passed the banana plantations. Motorbikes were going past constantly, few of the roads were closed, and none were after the lead pack went through, then more cars and buses, loaded with local folk. Drink stops provided water in cups that I suspect were being recycled off the ground and refilled for slower runners – a few I was offered had coke on the outside once we got the the drink stops that also offered coke.  A few stops provided sponges as well – very much appreciated on a day that would have been over 30 degrees already.

The long climb had me walking a few sections. My right thigh (middle part of rectus femoris) was quite tight on the climb, so I was conscious not to be a hero with the hill – 10k of downhill running was going to put more load on that than I really wanted. Finally, after a few 7 minute km’s, the turn around point was in sight.  A drink, then open up the legs a little and enjoy the run. I had realised at 27k or so that I was actually still in with a chance for a 4 hr run if the hill wasn’t too brutal, so was watching my pace on the way up. I calculated I would be able to get there with low 5 min km’s all the way down.  So when I felt good and the slope was not severe, I was able to get a sub 5 k done, but I always slowed down for the water, and I didn’t want to be too sore afterwards given my holiday starting tomorrow. Soft, I know.

By the last 4 km or so, the road was getting very crowded with people doing their normal Sunday thing. I was having to run around the outside of buses as they pulled over to pick up passengers (the roads were all sealed but there are never any footpaths). I was really trying to get my 4 hr mark, worried I was needing 5min even km’s and I wasn’t feeling able to do that. It was hot, dusty, fumey (is that a word?), I was tired, and I felt a bit insignificant on this crowded road. I couldn’t even see the runners ahead of me, there were so many others about. As I approached the stadium, inside the last km, it was hard to even see the marshall, I didn’t know whether to turn left or right once inside the outer gate, and still couldn’t see any other runners. The roadway was crowded with people sauntering along (drives me bonkers at the best of times), then a small African hurtled past me, kept looking back at me and gesturing me onward. He led me into the stadium proper, I could see the finish archway, and hurtled towards it (I’m not sure how pretty I looked!). It turns out, there were two finishing shutes – one for the half and the other for the full. The marshall was standing directly in front of the only sign directing full marathon runners to the right, while he was chatting to his mate, so he grabbed my arm as I went past, ‘no, no, this way’. Arrgh.

I whipped around the star dropper, sprinted up the shute, and went under the archway in 3:59:56 (garmin time, not seen any official timing). Woot woot!  So excited to have done it. I really went in with a plan to run between 4 hrs and 4:20, but to just run by feel. My heart rate monitor hasn’t worked well for months, and I haven’t worn it at all for the last month or so – just running by feel. Weird for me. But now 3 of my 4 marathons have been finished in 3:50 something. I am nothing if not consistent!  I feel like my training has really paid off, and a run without jet lag, mothering duties and a 10k climb could have seen a PB run. I am stoked with it.

We ran on roads the whole way, which I didn’t expect. I only brought my Trabuco trail shoes, but I have run a fair bit on road in them with no problem, so figured they would be ok. They were, thank goodness. But my Kayanos at home which have about 1500km in them and are a little overdue to be replaced are still sitting at home. If I had thought about it a little better, I would have brought them as well, worn them for the run and then donated them. They are in reasonable condition – I just should not run in them anymore. My Trabucos are about 18 months old and have a fair bit of wear in them, but I will be wearing them all trip as my everyday shoe. They may not see much running once we get home, but I have run the Great Wall Marathon and the Yurrebilla Ultra Marathon in them as well, so it will be sad to retire them.

Thank you to everyone for your support – it has been wonderful to get the Facebook messages, and the donations to the Jodi Lee Foundation. I will thank everyone individually properly when I get home to easier Internet access. But thank you xx.

Thoughts from Charlie.
At the start line of the 5km run, the kids were hijacked by a large group of African dancers complete with drums, trumpets and cow bells. They were all chanting and singing and once they saw the kids in their braids they were instantly grabbed to join in on the fun. They look both puzzled / confused and slightly scared by this hoard of black people – but once they got into it they enjoyed the experience.

When the starting gun fired we all started walking and trying to run. The crowd was 5000 strong so took a while for the momentum to stat. Once we broke into a jog Luca took off followed by Milla and Charlie. I kept with them for a while but lost sight of Milla and Jr decided to hang with me. Gran was in the back markers with a new friend she found called Kathy whom both decided to walk.

Jr and I did well, running the first 2.5km with my camera pack on whilst i wrestled with a camera in one hand. I got some great shots of the chaos during and after as well as some further pics of mountain.

I think the low and high of the day was the GoPro debacle. Long story short, Luca decided take it off and put in his sponsors bag and then leave it on the ground in a crowd of mostly 8000 Africans. The stadium was pure chaos, nothing was normal. When I found out it was lost I sent Luca, by himself into the crowd to try and find. He came back empty handed after 30 minutes looking a bit sorry for himself. When Tory arrived and had time to relax this gave me time to try and find an official to see if there was a ‘Lost and Found’. I mean if you saw this place, the very notion is laughable in the extreme. 

After a few hand gestures and speaking with people around the main stage i was told to go onto the stage and speak with someone who was holding a mic to a speaker. He motioned to a man across the stadium whom i could only just make out. He was standing next to some dignitaries, probably the king or president or whatever they have here. The man with the mic told me that he had a camera that someone handed in!! He told me to go to the man and see if it was mine. Right. So I’ll just struggle through the crowd, climb under 2 barriers, dodge a guard and run up the stairs to the top row of the VIP section ask about a GoPro?? I did! And guess what the man had a red bag with my camera in untouched!

Amazing – I wouldn’t expect to see it again in Adelaide, let alone in one the poorest countries in the world, in a stadium of 8000 raucous Africans, street vendors, touts, runners and street urchins. I certainly didn’t judge in the purest sense, I didn’t expect to see it again just because the basic fact that it was about a years wage and it was our fault that it was on the ground. 

The only thing Im sad about is that no-one gave their name, they just handed it over. I was prepared for a reward payment, and happy to pay. 

The person that handed it up, required no reward, except for good Karma for the next 2 lifetimes.

Thoughts from Charlie
Today is registration day for the Kili Marathon, which meant we got a free bus to the Keys Hotel in Moshi town, within easier walking distance to the Moshi town centre. Trudging a now familiar broken footpath to the large roundabout in the centre of town, we made our way to the supermarket to get water supplies and some afternoon snacks. Many things for sale are about half the price you’d pay in Adelaide. The standout difference was 1 litre of Smirnoff was $11! Probably out of reach for most people. Heineken was $2.30 a stubby for 330ml whilst the local brew is $1.20 for 550ml. Considering the low wage in this country im surprised how many people can afford to buy many of the things on offer. On the way to the supermarket I walked into a service station to check out the fuel prices. They were the same as Australia’s price per litre, and considering the amount of bikes and cars zooming around at speed it makes we wonder how much they have to work to get the bare necessities. I guess they don’t have iPhones / iPads / Gym Memberships / Large Mortgages / Broadband bills / Waterbills and probably not even electricity in a lot of cases.

After the Supermarket I wanted to head further downtown to the Buffalo Hotel. I read about this hotel as it bosted a Indian / Italian Restaurant, and was quite popular according to the intramanet. I figured Tory needed the carbs and the kids love their butter chicken. I guess I could sample a pizza as well!

The walk turned into a sensory overload of sounds, people and selling. The main road was a live market of people sowing clothes, washing and restoring old shoes, bartering, catching cabs, jumping out of cabs, horns blaring, yelling . . . It was a little too much for the kids at one stage but they soon took it in their stride, and with each day they get braver and more confident as they walk the streets of Tanzania.

As we got further into the melee that was Tanzanian trading I was starting to get worried that I may have got the family lost. At the last minute we stopped and looked lost we were pounced on by touts. One young man offered to show us where it was. It sounded like the all too familiar sales trap. But it wasn’t. The hotel was tucked away in a side alley, but as we walked closer we soon found ourselves beset by shirt, painting, and necklace sales people trying to extract dollars from our ‘wealthy anglo’ pockets.

I tipped the 2 guys that helped us and we went onto enjoy our Lunch. Luca and Charlie Jr got Butter Chicken, Tory ordered the Spaghetti, Milla, Spaghetti and Meatballs, Jenny had the Eggplant Parmigiana and I, the Anchovy and Olive Pizza. Washed down with Sprite and Beers it was the best meals so far and one of the best Butter Chickens I’d tasted!

Trying to escape the touts, we slipped further up the road to a side street, but our man was waiting patiently! We were trapped, we escaped only to get the sales pitch for a Tanzanian Soccer Guernsey further up the main road. Luca tried his hand at some bartering and we managed to get the top for 20,000 shillings and $4 USD. I think its the first time weve ever bought anything using 2 currencies before – very odd and quite amusing at the time. Final price was about $17.30 for an Adidas sports top. Good value but hard work.

Heading back up the road to our sister hotel I managed to get some nice shots with the big lens. You have to be very quick around here because if you get caught snapping a pic they yell and carry on, mostly for $USDs I think. So there were 2 shots I wanted to get, so I happily paid $1USD each for them – and they were equally happy to let me shoot away.

Back at the Keys Hotel we got the shuttle back to our place. 20 seconds after dropping our bags back at our room the kids were in the pool and the world was right (and cool) again.

Thoughts from Tory.
We were now ready to get out of the sun, and into the pool at home, so started the 3km or so so walk to the main hotel again to get our shuttle. Milla commented that she didn’t want to go home.  I was surprised – she’d been talking about the pool for most of the last 2 hours. But no, she didn’t want to go home to Adelaide – she’s enjoying seeing Africa too much.

This afternoon, after much pool time and my trying to lie down and get off my bloody legs in preparation for tomorrow, one of the staff at the hotel here finally said she was ready and able to braid the children’s hair. Mum had organized it yesterday when she asked  Petronila if she knew where we might be able to get the kids hair braided (so I don’t need to brush it every day!!) and Petronila said she could do it. We suggested 8.30 am, and she agreed. So at 4pm she arrived and said she could do it now. Africa time. Eventually 4 other ladies joined her so we had 5 women huddled over the 3 kids heads, braiding for a solid 90 mins. Remarkably, they all finished at the same time!  Luca has 38 braids all sticking out of his head, Milla has 10 and Charlie has 9 that are mostly combined with 2 braids into 1 plait. They look awesome and the lovely ladies were all so pleased to have played with these kids straight hair. Awesome photos.

Luca was pumped with is – with his denim shorts, Tanzanian soccer shirt and funky hair, he looked very cool, and the girls look gorgeous. We are very much in holiday mode now, and are really enjoying all the family time.  They kids are all writing a little into their travel diaries, and Milla has done a little of her school homework. Both girls like to sit and do some of their puzzle book activities and I had bought Charlie quite a good looking maths book to work on while we are away. They are back in the pool again now, playing Marco Polo with a bunch of middle school kids that have arrived – we thi k they are form an international school, but the kids will fill us in later.

An early start tomorrow, 0430 for breakfast then the 0515 bus for me, 0545 for the others, for my 0630 race start (oh, there are the race jitters kicking in), and 0730 for my fun running family. Gran found a friend today – a lady called Kathy who Iives in Angola now but has a house in Houston – who saw us getting off the shuttle, so knew we were part of the Wild Frontiers group for the marathon and asked if she was walking the fun run. She has a sore ankle so will be walking and was so excited to find a potential buddy!

Thoughts from Tory
After our ‘english breakfast’ of toast (somewhat sweet bread, seems common throughout the world trying to provide western bread – much sweeter than commercial bread at home, but perhaps the same as cheap bread in America), scrawny bacon, weenie wieners, anaemic scrambled eggs, cereal on offer, deep fried eggy bread, fresh mango, teeny bananas, watermelon, mango and papaya juices, we sent the kids for a swim before walking into town.

The walk was described as only being 10 minutes, but took over an hour.  Despite the fact that we walk at double the pace of any of the locals! We walked along the dusty road, occasionally being choked by diesel fumes again, but waving to passers by.  

Moshi town is messy and primitive, but we found a bank to collect some Tanzania Shillings from, organized a vodacom sim card for the phone, served by the ‘data expert’ who signed us up. He then proceeded to cut down a standard size SIM card for a pair of rusty scissors so that it would fit the iPhone, and guess what it worked perfectly the second it was put in the phone! Much better than our experience in NY. We asked where to eat lunch, and were directed to the Tanzanian Coffee House, where we saw our greatest concentration of western tourists so far. The kids were pretty happy to see regular food, so we did eat there. $50 for lunch today for 6 of us, about the same as dinner at the hotel last night. Cheaper than home, but not local pricing. 

We were beset by hawkers when we tried to look for a map – they are not handed out here like in other parts of the world. We started at a tourist centre, but he had none.  A man said he could get one for us, and led us down to his souvenir shop to wait while a map was found. His friend wanted over $25 for the regular tourist style map, so we declined, but the bead seller, wrist band seller, and painting seller surrounded us showing off their wares. This was the kids first exposure to hawking – trying to teach them to be a little savvy, even though I know we are being had. 

We did buy a couple of pictures from Ben, a man running a stall a few meters down the road from the hotel whom we met at the start of our walk. Our kids liked him and his manner and insisted that we go back there and buy a picture from him. So we did – a picture for each of the kids rooms. I’m hoping they’ll transport ok. We’ll see. No bargain there, paying $70 for the two, but the kids liked them, and we were happy to support him. That’s the whole point, isn’t it? 

The kids are playing together beautifully, enjoying the pool while we are here, and are fascinated by the differences here – the people, the roads, the cars (all right hand drive, so same as at home, but old and often crappy), the food, the buildings. They have commented that people are so friendly – waving and saying hello as we pass (‘not like in Adelaide’), converting money to work out if something is good value or not, and not once complaining about a 4 hour walk in the heat and dust. Playing in the pool, they made friends with a couple of local boys (young men) who had been ‘picked up’ by a group of 3 English backpackers. They all played happy rough games – throwing them in, doing tricks (one handed hopping hand stands) and having a load of splashy fun. Very sweet to watch. 

Another early night after dinner in the hotel – $40 for 6 of us, with the kids all eating well before settling down to sleep by 8, utterly exhausted after 6 hrs in the pool, a 5 hr trip to town, mostly on foot, and some quieter playtime. They’re having an awesome time and it is so cool to be here with them. 


Thoughts from Charlie
Highlights for me was dealing with the ‘Data Expert’ and his scissors and ability to get the job done. It seems in Africa it’s about working with what you’ve got. We saw a couple of men walking down the road, one with a car door balancing on his head, another with a car bumper – off to see the ‘scrappy’. Probably enough metal for a meal or fuel for their own cars.

I loved all the motorbikes you see here. They are their pride and joy. 125cc Hondas or Toyos. Blinged up with chrome and anodised mirrors. Sometimes carting 2m lengths of steel, sometimes a friend, sometimes half their family. Another standout mode of transport are old Toyota hi-ace vans. These to are covered in rapper’s names or adidas logos with Rastafarian stripes and mostly used as make-shift taxis, all you need to do is wave your arm and you can pile into the van with 19 other people and their goods.

Another highlight was Ben the art salesman. He is a Masai man, who against his fathers wishes, left his village to go to school and get educated. He did, and since then his brothers have got an education and have gone into ‘business’ for themselves. He talked to us about Masai life and his life helping young artists sell their paintings . His Unicef polo shirt was well worn and held a clipboard full of young artists that he supported. He also painted and he proudly pointed out the pieces of art that he created. His back story was amazing and he delivered it so passionately, i was slightly annoyed at myself for no thinking to film or capture it. But sometimes these experiences are best, in just listening.

I was allowed to take pictures of his ‘gallery’. It was an abandoned shell of what was once a house, some rooms with old stools covered in paint, a broom to keep the dirt tidy. All very humbling. 

As we were waiting for the pictures to be removed from the frames a thunderstorm cracked above the tin roof and the heavens opened up. We all (including the kids) ran around picking up his paintings from outside the broken walls and brought them in from the rain. He thanked us and we got our painting wrapped in old newspaper. It was a great end to a sale.

Nothing much to add from Tory’s observations above. The beer is cold, the bed at our hotel is comfortable and the weather is great. Ive encouraged the kids to bring along a toy of which they can take photos of in-situ along our African journey. Toy chosen, Scratchy from the Simpsons! Perfect! So if you see a toy cat pop up then u know the back story.