Chagga Coffee

One day, I arranged a waterfall tour for me and the boys. The wife of one of Paul's classmates joined us as well. There were various things we were to have seen and we did, in a fashion, see most of them. Overall, though, it was a very different day than expected. We saw a really beautiful area and hiked along the countryside, through banana, bean, coffee, and various other small farms. We saw a Chagga cave and several waterfalls (one involving a ridiculous amount of very steep, slippery stairs.) We walked along and over a river and and saw wild chameleons (we had to stop and try to hold each one.) It was stunning and so very, very nice to be away from the noise, heat and dust of the city. The end point of the tour was to go see a coffee farm with a Chagga coffee farmer.

A photo of the tour of one of the caves the Chagga used when they were hiding from the Maasai (we were also told some disturbingly bloody stories about that). This was been a long, long time ago, and of course then they didn't have electricity then. As it was, this single bulb, suspended from a long cord patched along the walk, was running on a generator that cut out during our time on the tour.

One of the waterfalls. It was SO nice to get out of the dust,y noisy city and hike. Incredibly beautiful area. Here you see O with our guide, PDD (short for Puff Daddy).

ONE of the wild chameleons we saw. Of course I FREAKED out with excitement over them and we stopped to hold each one. The locals found that rather amusing. Apparently Tanzanian women do not touch them, I forget exactly why. There was something specific they were supposedly afraid of happening. Just let me reiterate how EXCITED I was to see them in the wild. Seriously so, so, so excited and we saw SEVEN. Which means we missed many, many more. Did I make it clear how much I LOVED seeing them? Never really grew tired of it.

Land Snail

The farm we toured was very small and the farmer was proud of the diversity of things he grew. What I thought was a sort of barn, was his house. A wooden structure of two rooms, not connected, with doors open to the "yard". Connected to them, were his goats in enclosures that were up off the ground. That way he could collect the droppings to fertilize with.

One of the goats.

We decided not to drink a cup of coffee. Several reasons why, and I felt guilty about not- since then you "donate" for the coffee and he was showing us other things we could buy. I then (guilt) bought a bag of coffee beans from him. The only issue was that he had a 2 1/2 foot tall mortar and pestle they use to 'grind' the coffee (it's really pounded by hand with a long wooden stick that reaches deep into the wood structure) and the beans I bought were whole. No one in town had a grinder except the one coffee shop in town that roasted and sold their own beans. I did ask if they'd grind it for me and they said no.

The coffee farmer with the boys.

Here he shows us how he grinds his beans, the little boy in the background, he said, was one of his grandchildren.

Coffee Around the World

 I took photos of coffee that I had around the world. There is something that seems so sweet and tender about someone making a coffee for you (or tea), particularly when they know the way you like it. The format is a bit funky with the photos and the last two, from Africa, are out of order.

In Belgium at a cafe. 

Lennie's mom, Marleen, made this for me one day at their house
See the so darling creamer and chocolate? Loved it. Nice creamy
head on the espresso too. Just was the nicest heartwarming touch.

In Paris.

A morning coffee on the overnight
Thello train the boys and I took between
Belgium and Italy. You'd think it'd be
bad, but it wasn't.

I loved in Europe that the coffee and
espresso cups had matching saucers.
Just makes it feel so intentional.
This is made by Gesi with the stovetop
espresso maker.

An early morning espresso alone... I made in the
Nespresso (best ever espresso maker!) at Chuck's house. It
was a sweet moment, quiet, beautiful, and the nice kitty
joined me. 

On our day trip to Venice. Seems like you
have to have at least one coffee there!
Thankfully Natasha, Gesi's mom,
was always up for getting a coffee too.

Really, does this count as a coffee? No.
It was a decedent and so sweet ice cream,
beautifully presented with coffee in it. In Italy.

Gesi's dad, Bashkim, makes her mom
an afternoon coffee when he is home.
 I found it incredibly touching and sweet. This
day he brought Gesi, Natasha (her mom)
and I each up a cup.

Gesi's family used a stove top espresso
maker. These happen to be the ones at
Govanna's Grandma's house.
We had the same one growing up.

Gesi bought me my stove top espresso maker to take home.
Here you can see it does not fit on the burner
at the B&B in Moshi. I only accidentally melted
a teeny bit of the handle once and never
actually burned myself ALL the way. They
had no pot holders. They also had a french press but
after breakfast time was over this is how I made
myself a coffee. I also made them for the gardener, Ben.

This is the very special Chugga coffee
Ben made me. Almost like what we think
of Cowboy coffee. He gave me the better,
'less grounds in the cup' cup, I noticed. 

When we were in Moshi, and while Paul was with classmates, the boys
and I took a weekend day trip to
the house of an ex-pat who turns her
place into a restaurant on the weekends.

While the boys and I were on safari, we had hot water,
powder coffee and powder milk. This is what happens
when you don't mix well enough.

When the boys and I were in Jinja, we went
to an Indian Restaurant. I love how O is
photo bombing this. Warm milk and powder coffee. This place had the biggest selection of Indian desserts we'd ever seen.

An espresso to go! They did have lids I just didn't take one-
 and yes it is in Styrofoam. In Jinja

One weekend when Paul was studying with a classmate the boys and I
treated ourselves to a 'fancy' American breakfast. We
thought the mint lemonade was like being at the country fair.

This was a very Westernized place in the
airport in Dubai. It totally took me back to
my childhood, making early morning drives to
Portland with my father when he would
make the occasional runs to pick supplies up
for the kitchen store. The original Bob's Red Mill being one of them.

Thai iced coffee in process..... Powdered milk
sweetened condensed milk,
evaporated milk and fresh milk.

Sri Lankan mid-day snack and warm milk
with powdered instant coffee.

Funny name for coffee stand in Bangkok.
Yes, it was good. 

A fast food place espresso in Taiwan!

Zanzibar coffee! From our first trip there as a family of 4.

How most of the coffee was in Africa. Or how locals drank it. Instant. 

You would get a carafe of hot water (or sometimes hot milk) 

and warm milk, powdered milk, or no milk. This was when the kids and I went back just the 3 of us.

Starbucks..... and obviously had Wi-Fi .This
was at a beautifully done cultural
heritage center in Taiwan.

Dubai Photos

We did a 'hop on, hop off'' tour  by bus. This is a shot from the top level of the bus.

The bus turned out to be a nice tour of the city, with history thrown in (audio tour part).

Love this.

I tried to take photos in each country of the food we have in the States, but in different languages. The kids got a soda almost every day. NOT remotely the norm at home, they enjoyed it (in fact I think they've had none in the 6 + weeks we've been back, or none with me anyway.)

This child was impossible to photograph on this trip. It would have been easier at times to have a cat pose in a suit for photos.

Another city shot.

What is amazing is that just 200 years ago this was a simple pear diving village. This is from an old fort that is now a museum. We enjoyed the museum very much. 

I have no photos of the indoor ski slope; the gold plated, diamond encrusted cell phone or the great food we had. I think Paul  has them on his iPhone.

Chugga Wedding Photos

 Just a few photos to go with the Traditional Wedding Celebration post, 9/23/13.

Traditional banana beer. Very unfiltered. Made me understand old books written about unfiltered mead and why they write about people wiping their mouths. There is a trick to drinking it that they showed me so you don't get so much of the frothy head. The bride must taste then offer a taste to her husband to be, then family members (in a certain order) then to the older people in the community and so forth.

O was folding origami which drew a crowd that grew larger and larger. This little girl sitting to his right was so shy and wouldn't talk to him when Paul pressured him to say hello to her (I say pressured since he was shy too).

L was drawing pictures, also was interesting to the kids. Here he is giving the portrait he drew to Paul's friend Emanuel.

PHOTOS FINALLY!! of Moshi...

I finally have the time (holidays, moving etc.) and my Wi-Fi set up, so now it's possible for me to upload the photos!!! I thought about going back to each post and inserting where they should be. Instead, I am going to add the date at the end of the post it relates to if you want to go back and read its corresponding text or story.

In Moshi we stayed at a B&B, rather than at some of the local hotels Paul's classmates were staying in. It gave the boys and I some space to feel more at home during the day and the use of a kitchen. These two were the staff there who made ALL the difference in the world to us, and especially me. I even tear up now writing this, thinking of how much they mean to me. Grace cleaned and made our breakfast, Ben was the gardener. We, I, learned so much from them and they were so warm and kind. Moshi was our first African city. Now I know that it's a small, easy city, but it didn't feel that way at the time. Then, it felt very, very intense. They offered me comfort and help on how to navigate to get what I needed, as did the owner (from the UK but married to a Tanzanian man) who would stop by from time to time. (See post Monday, September 2nd)

This is from the Tinga Tinga tour I arranged for the boys. The man between the boys, Materu, is the artist who very kindly and patiently stepped them through painting their own (what they are each holding) Tinga Tinga painting. Behind L is Jon, our guide, for the day. (See post Monday, September 2nd)

Grace would escort me to the market in town. This is the guy I bought my dry goods from. One day, I saw a mouse running down the wall. He also sold small, dry fish. I wish I'd taken more photos at the market but it felt too invasive and I wasn't as comfortable taking my camera out. It was pretty intense the first few times I went, then I got the hang of it, but I was always so grateful for Grace being with me. This is the one and only time I didn't drag the boys around with me. They'd stay with Ben at the B&B, otherwise, they were with me all the time.

This is one of the signs at a well known hotel. I didn't make sense of what it mean until I found the bathroom, see below.

Here is the door to the ladies bathroom. In Asia you commonly saw a photo of a toilet or a squatty potty so you knew (or could choose?) which one you would be using. This is the only photo I saw like this. BUT there were many more amusing signs IN bathrooms telling you what to do or not do, which I wish I'd gotten photos of . Paul has some in his photos from his travels. 

This is the deaf collective that sewed and sold items around town. They were so incredibly sweet. I LOVED talking to them. I finger spelled in Swahili then they'd tell me the Swahili sign, then we'd compare the English to Swahili sign and then they'd correct me when I got confused. I went back and visited 3 times. I wish I'd found them sooner. The boys were too shy to sign to  with them much. I brought them fabric to make me some bags (I am holding one in this photo).  

This is Henry. He is one of the boys MOST FAVORITE of Paul's classmates (they liked all of them quite a lot but Henry truly is one of a kind and held a special place for them). He and the boys had a kebab eating contest one night at this place, Taj Mahal, a Muslim restaurant in town.  They had really good kebabs. I loved the Zanzibar pizza (thin dough with veggies and an egg folded into an envelope-like square, and grilled). Once I asked them how many they made in a day. I would see them start to clean and set up when I ran with two of Paul's classmates at 6 am and they'd be cooking still at 10 pm. They told me they sold around 350 Zanzibar pizzas in a day. By the way. O held his own here but Henry won out. The next day O said he felt like he was being punched in the stomach from the inside out. 

The first weekend we had in Tanzania was our only full weekend with Paul as a family. We did one day safari with him and then a day trip with his classmates to a snake park. This was a really cool place that used the admission to the snake park to fund a snake bite clinic. I can't find the picture (as I am writing this) of all the dried spit inside the glass from the cage of the spitting cobras. This is a picture of when you are a "bad" mother and let your child be pet by a caged rescue baboon. (See Monday, September 12th)

The boys and I went to swimming pools as much as we could. This is the YMCA pool, where we went the most. I liked this sign. I took this at the start of the trip before I really had learned much Queen's English. Swimming costumes are bathing suits in case you were like me, and confused. The other piece of this is cultural. You do not go around exposing your legs (above the knees in particular) so to be respectful you would only be in this one area with your swimsuit (or costume) and not the rest of the building. Granted, there was just a fence and people sat all around and just watched the swimmers.

This is a super sweet local boy the boys were friends with, Brian. We hung out here with him and he would text me asking when we could next come to meet at the pool.

This was the death climbing wall at Zumba Land. Their idea of safety is different, of course the kids loved it. I did ask the manager one day, since the staff would come over and chat with me, if a kid had ever fallen (you could just fall to your death on that edge). She said "no, if they can't climb they don't go." I guess the people in Tanzania govern themselves with common sense, different than the American public. (See Monday, September 2nd)

Here are the extent of the kitchen implements that were available at the B&B. I became better at cutting things in my hands rather than with a cutting board. 

One weekend when Paul was busy, I arranged a cooking class for the boys and I. One thing we learned was samosas. It took us 3 hours total to make them and about 5 minutes to eat them. These classes were at the edge of a coffee shop parking lot and the security guard kept coming over and chatting, it was cute.