Mama Afrika, Papa Malaria.

Neweiba
Cairo
Casablanca (Morocco)
Lome (Togo-Andrew)
Dar Es Salaam (Tanzania-Anthony)
Tanga (Both)
Yamba
Arusha

"Happy birthday to me! Happy birthday to me! Happy birthday deeeeaaarrr Anthony!! Happy birthday to me!"
This is my first birthday that I have spent outside of North America. The best thing about it is that I now know how to say 'Happy Birthday' in Arabic:

هبّي بيرثدي

You know when you attempt to blow out the candles on your birthday cake, and after the first try there are still some alight? Some say that the number of remaining candles is how many birthday wishes you get, while others say that it is the number of boyfriend/girlfriends you have.
I had one candle left alight. One girlfriend. One wish. I got both! Booya!
My girlfriend, her mother and her sister came out to Egypt for two weeks to visit--putting myself forever in debt to that wonderful mother. I've been try to think about how I can repay her for granting that one wish, but I'm not exactly sure I can. I thought about offering her my firstborn child, but then I figured that that puts too much pressure on the current relationship I am in with her daughter...
I might offer her my spleen... Where I come from it means gratitude...
PS. Valentines Day in Egypt in an expensive restaurant where nothing on the menu is pronouncible (even the English menu) and your bottle of water is chilled in a champagne bucket should go on your life to-do list. I recommend 'Villa D'Este'.... very posh. (To be honest I just wrote all that so I could use the word 'posh.'......poshposhposhposh heeheeheehee!!!)

NOTE TO SELF: Stop acting like a 5 year old. This is serious!

The ten days with the girls was short but super sweet and as they left Andrew and I were once again left homeless and hungry. (If you are my mother please read the following sentence in lieu of the previous: ...Andrew and I were once again thrust into a world of great adventure completely safe, healthy, happy, potty-trained, and with nothing whatsoever for a mother to worry about.)

**This is the part of the film where a picture of a map appears on the screen and a little animated plane takes off from Cairo heading west and leaving a little red dotted line behind it while a cool upbeat adventure-ish sounding soundtrack plays until the little plane lands in Casablanca.**

The movie lied. .. Best picture indeed... I looked all over the city of Casablanca looking for even ONE refugee..... nada. The closest I could find was my brother. We DID find 'Rick's Cafe American' though. I was a little disappointed to find a warm, beautiful place, with a very Moroccan style, a pleasant atmosphere, a smooth jazz band and employees dressed up for the part.... No trace of anthem singing refugees, gambling policemen, local arrests or a loud piano playing black man...

I drowned my sorrow in a hard drink... Those were EXACTLY like the movie.

Before you could say 'Here's looking at you kid' Andrew was on a plane to Togo to lend his services volunteering and generally working towards the peace, equality, and harmony of mankind while I stayed in Casablanca to drink more.
But before I had a chance to, I ran into a non-french speaking businessman from South Africa and a non-English speaking businessman from Paris who had come to Casablanca to work out a deal together (this is beginning to sound more like the movie...Yessss!)
Thanks to my wonderful parents, I am bilingual.
I felt like the golden ticket to these guys hidden inside a delicious bar of chocolate (I also blame my parents for my good looks). So, I spent the day translating a seventeen thousand dollar business deal. The temptation to screw things up was massive...

FRENCH GUY: "Well, for the equipment, I'm asking $17,529 American dollars and after this deal I'm sure we could discuss a contract for further business"

MY TRANSLATION: "Well, he wants 18 baby white rabbits sent to his house in Paris and then needs you to get on top of this table and trumpet like an elephant while doing jumping jacks and taking your shirt off... he also wants a Kit-Kat.

However, they bought me pizza and beer which kept me happy and honest.

**Cue animated plane and adventure-ish music...**
**Cue little bags of peanuts and airplane sounds: NeeeaaaaRRRRRRRROOooommmm**

NOTE TO SELF: "Keep the 5 year-old sounds INSIDE your head!"

NOTE TO SELF: "Who you callin' five doody head!?"

NOTE TO SELF: "Poopy pants!"

NOTE TO SELF: "I'm telling!! Moooooommm!"

NOTE TO SELF: "Stop bickering and tell them you got to Tanzania alright!"

So, I got to Tanzania alright. I also made it out to Yamba, this itsy-bitsy-teensy-weensy-tiny-winy village on top of a mountain.
This is where 'Village Africa' is stationed and with whom I will be volunteering fro three weeks. It's very beautiful on top of a mountain... It's also very remote. No electricity, no running water, no cable TV, no shops or stores and no Tim Hortons!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After the first emotional disaster I convinced myself that I was pretty gung-ho about his whole 'roughing it' experience. Then I met the other volunteers around the fireplace my first night. Small talk turned into ugly talk. They began comparing diseases they had contracted there like kids comparing Halloween booty.

Emma: "I found a cockroach in my bun this morning! - well, HALF of one..."

Michelle: "Oh yeah!? Well after I pooed in a box today the nurse told me I had WORMS living in my stomach!"

Kelly: "Oh, that's nothing! My toes fell off today after these nasty little jiggers ate right through them!"

Roger: "Small beans! I got Malaria AGAIN today! I threw up twice my body weight!"

I just poked the fire with a stick-and looked for an exit. My options were: Climb a tree, fall down the mountain or jump in the fire... I just listened as they handed out the 'Best Disease Of The Day' trophy...

3 weeks....

Threeeeeee weeks.....

I could go for an Iced Capp.

The days were full of road building, brick making, tree planting, malaria dodging, and teaching the kids how to play rugby.
The kids made up the majority of the village population--each family wanted about 15...(it's a Catholic thing...)
Now, I've never really been one to notice how 'cute' kids are, or particularly care, but ALL of the kids in Yamba are priceless!! The kind of child that just makes you want to pick it up, squeeze it and give it all the gingerbread it wants! I actually don't think I can have kids of my own now-they'll just never measure up on the cute-o-meter to the kids in Yamba.
Maybe I'll just adopt the village...and make all the houses out of gingerbread.

Walking through the village and seeing all the kids LOOKED like one of those 'late night help Africa' commercials, the main difference being that on the commercial, the kids all look depressed. Like someone stole all their gingerbread, but I've never seen more joyful kids than the ones in Yamba. Whenever you pass they stop whatever it is they are doing, stand up, start waving and shouting: "HAllo, hAllo, hAllo, HALLO Antoni!!" They might even run up and take your hand and sing to you all the way down the mountain. Just like a Disney film. Very Zip-a-dee-doo-dah and all that.

Andrew and I even got to teach the kids a geography lesson in school about Canada! We taught them about this strange game where you strap blades to your shoes and hit people with sticks. We wanted to teach them the rules, but had enough trouble getting the idea of 'ice' across to them... a FIELD of ice was even more of a stretch...
So we moved on to a traditional Canadian greeting: "How's it goin' eh?" (As if the kids weren't cute enough already!!) We tried to teach them about Newfoundlanders, but it just got too complicated.
We wrapped up with a maple syrup demonstration.
"A special kind of Canadian tree farmer called a LUMBERJACK drills into the side of a Canadian tree and then puts the tree blood on his pancakes!"
None of them said they wanted to come to Canada.
When we were shopping for supplies in a nearby village, Andrew and I even found some 'Maple Flavoured Syrup' for the kids to try! (Hey, it was all that was available! What would YOU do, milk a palm tree!?)
So we got them all to try some syrup and sent them beautifully sugared up to their next class!
(We're not allowed to teach there anymore...)

Our weekends were off (it was my first weekend that Andrew met up with me) and a fellow volunteer suggested that one weekend we wake up early to watch the sunrise at the lookout; a place where you can look across the border on to the plains of Kenya. Basically it's like walking through the beautiful British Colombian mountains to see Saskatchewan. Whee. Miles of huge amounts of nothing.
She said: "Hey, who's up for a hike up the mountain to watch the sunrise over Kenya?"

I heard: "Hey, who wants to wake up before the sun is still zonked out and get a weeks worth of exercise trudging up a mountain in pitch black through the malaria-infested jungle to see a bunch of flatness!?"

I thought: "Sure! Shall I bathe myself in honey first!? Just in case the mosquitoes can't find me? Oh, and I can't forget to bring my panoramic lens just in case my camera can't capture the huge amounts of nothing!"

I said: "Sure! Sounds great!"

So we did the walk, and I saw that Kenya is really, really flat and that the sun still rises even if you beat it to the punch. And I'd totally do it again. With less honey. And more panorama on my lens.

All the volunteers in Yamba were given a house-girl to cook for you and do things like laundry-which seems lame, but in Yamba, activities like that are a full time job. For instance, to do laundry you have to walk all the way down to the river, grab a bucket of water, carry the bucket on your head all the way back to Yamba, boil the water, wash the clothes, then hang them to dry. (There is no IKEA selling washing machines at the bottom of the mountain....I know. Took me awhile to get over it too.) Then the house-girl goes back down to the river to get a bucket of water to boil for Anthony's bucket shower. Then BACK down to the river to get another bucket of water to boil for Anthony's tea. This frees up the volunteers to do actual building stuff as well as creates employment in the village.
Our house-girls name was Clemencia. She was 100% pure African energy. I swear she was drinking straight battery juice for breakfast. Every morning I would stumble out of my room half-awake to:
"MAMBO CACA ANTONI!!!!!!!!!" (Swahili for "Morning brother Anthony!)

to which I would reply:

"Zaprafidali..." (Anthony-in-the-morning for "Hey, Clemencia, how do I get some of what you're on?")

She had a daughter a few months ago which I'm sure is going to grow up to be the Energizer bunny.

Yamba was incredible. Africa needs your love.

Next time I'll tell you about our African Safari. Or should I say: "To be continued!! Dun Dun Dun!"

Keep Smiling!
Anthony

Swahili Lesson for the day:

"Tiki Tiki Maji"

"Watermelon"

(I just think it is the COOLEST word in Swahili!! And a green pepper is a 'Pili Pili Ho ho!!" Bahahahahahahah!!!! *sniff* whew!)