Adventures in the West Part 2

The MV Liemba- The German World War One Ship that I spent three days living on. My own African Queen!
Looking off the edge of the ship where the Tanzanians are loading and unloading cargo.
Me, taking an opportunity to go for a swim... off the side of the ship.


"And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything than you risk even more." -Erica Jung

From Kigoma we boarded the M.V. Liemba... Taken from Wikipedia.com:

"The MV Liemba, formerly the Graf von Götzen, is a passenger cargo ferry that runs along the eastern shore of Lake Tanganyika. The ship was built in 1913 in Germany, and was one of three vessels operated by the Germans to control Lake Tanganyika during the early part of World War I. It was scuttled by its captain on 26 July 1916 off the mouth of the Malagarasi river, during the German retreat from the town of Kigoma. In 1924 the ship was salvaged by a British Royal Navy salvage team and recommissioned in 1927 as the Liemba. The vessel is now owned by the Tanzania Railways Corporation and runs between the ports of Bujumbura, Burundi, Kigoma, Tanzania and Mpulungu, Zambia with numerous stops to pick up and set down passengers in between.

The ship was the inspiration for the German gunboat Luisa in C.S. Forester's 1935 novel The African Queen, and the subsequent film version."

So we had a cozy first class cabin on that boat for two nights and three days. Honestly, there was not a lot to do during that time except read, look at the DRC on one side and Tanzania on the other, and talk to the other passengers. In true Peace Corps form, we enjoyed conversations in Swahili with Africans from all over the place, we made friends with everyone including the cooks in the kitchen, the bartender, and an old man we called Baba Boat. There were also a few backpackers from various European countries on board. We were interested in hearing about their travels and exchanged stories for awhile, until one evening they all got on a bit of a high horse. Where a major debate went on where many of them were convinced that the entire problem with African society is American volunteers. We defended the PC to no end, not because we think that we are saving the world, but for sure because we are not doing any damage to it. They felt like what they were doing, back packing through and putting in a lot of money to Tanzania was more beneficial than what we were doing. They didn't even just think that we were useless, but that we were actually damaging to Tanzania. So let's just say that these people were never going to be our close friends. However, it was interesting that in our final time on the boat, it seemed that these Europeans, who were so much better than us destructive volunteers, seemed to be leaning on us a lot when anything involved any Swahili, since they couldn't understand a word of it.

The ship would stop often and wait for smaller wooden boats to motor in to us from distant shoreline villages. Men would climb up the side of the boat from these smaller dinghys loading and unloading cargo but in their ripped clothes and acrobatic skills they definitely gave the appearance of pirates commandeering our ship. At one of these points, I decided that it was absolutely necessary that I jump off the top of the ship, despite the fact that I am afraid of heights. It was just one of those things that I knew I would always regret if I didn't have the experience of jumping into the clear depths of Lake Tanganyika. Estimated to be about thirty feet above the water, I jumped. What a rush! And in one of the clearest lakes in the world, my shirt and bra ended up around my neck with who knows how many Tanzanian men all right there, think some of them might have gotten more of a show then they bargained for on a normal days work. Once I made sure that I was re-clothed and had both contacts in, I floated on my back and contemplated the blue of the sky, the blue of the water and how, in the last two years, I have done so many things that terrify me, yet also, in my opinion, make my life infinitely more fun. Eventually, I swam to one of the small boats, where I resembled a beached whale as Tanzanian men pulled me in, and then resembling a drowned rat, scurried over piles of cargo until I could climb the stairs, beaming, back to first class.

When we finally docked at the last stop before getting to Zambia, we got out. Cargo trucks waited to load people and things into the back, and one man yelled in Swahili, "Hey White People, I have space in the cab!" Kate and I looked and each other, knowing perfectly well that we are the only two white people that could understand such a declaration and because those Europeans were apparently so much better than we were, we took the guy up on the offer and had a cozy, sunless, cushioned ride. Five hours later we reached Sumbawanga, which must be one of the weirdest towns that I have ever been to. In the middle of nowhere, but oddly nice, we felt like we were in some secret drug town. We didn't like it in the least. Our guest house felt haunted because the light turned on and off all night, and while I was in the shower I looked in the mirror and saw someone's eyes watching me through the high up window, which left me naked and shrieking in our room. We rigged a towel over the window for Kate. Ewww... Peeping toms.

The next morning we boarded a bus to Mbeya- almost home. The road was incredibly rough and the ride would be long, however, we were in good spirits and eager to see our friends. Tanzanians generally do not travel very much, so they tend to get motion sickness, anyways, the bus was packed with people standing in the aisle, when I felt something wet splash on my arm and Kate let out a little yelp. Someone in the aisle had puked on her head which then splashed onto me. We tried to keep our own gag reflexes under control, as we decided that the ride could not get any worse. And then... the wheels fell off the bus. I don't mean that we got a flat tire. I mean that the back wheels literally fell off the back axle and while the bus fishtailed and drug in the gravel the wheels kept going until they passed the dragging bus and ended up in a ditch somewhere. Meanwhile, we were in the middle of nowhere. The Tanzanians told us that another bus would surely come in 6 hours or so.... right. So while the other Tanzanians walked toward our destination, we figured that if we walked the other way, we would be more likely to find room on any vehicle going our direction then waiting with sixty or so Tanzanians. We refused to lose hope that some land rover or something wouldn't pass by and see some oddly out of place American ladies in need of a lift... and sure enough... the ride came. It took us to some hole in the wall town near the southern boarder, where we got on another small bus thing and eventually, through our intelligence, beauty and wit... actually our positive attitude, made it to Mbeya. Where we bedded down at our friend Katie's house, with the Mbeya crowd- Katie, Meesh, Teri and Monkey Baby- ate an obscene amount of homemade ravioli, guac, tortillas, garlic bread, popcorn, blondies, salad, etc. in front of Sex and the City. Oh, life as a Peace Corps lady.