That puddle with algae better not be the hot springs...

When I got back from the safari I had a new placement for volunteering. I had sent in a request before we left since all I was really doing at the first school was typing up tests and other secretary work. The new school I was placed at was EXTREMELY different from the one I had just come from. There were only 4 classrooms: class one and middle class both which had about 18-22 students each, preparatory class which had a whopping total of 3 kids in it, and baby class, by contrast, had over 75 small toddlers screaming the alphabet at once. They were undoubtedly adorable, but the school clearly needed my help more than the first one. I was actually interacting with kids in the classroom, helping to teach, and spending time with them during break. Unfortunately, I only spent about a week there since I switched over 2 weeks into volunteering and we had made plans to leave a few days early to get to Zanzibar. I know that I did help at the first school, but I had such a better experience at the second school and I wish I had been placed there to begin with.

Sassy AND cute!

                           

Outside for break with Carol, the other AWESOME volunteer at the school.

The classroom I was placed in.

The teacher in this classroom was kind of awkward but he was a nice guy and fun to be around. At one point I was talking to him while the kids were doing a writing exercise and he said, "You're good with kids. Do you have any of your own?" I, of course, laughed at that and assured him that I had no kids. I also tried to convey that I was commonly thought to be too young to have children in the society I lived in, but I think it was hard to grasp through the language barrier. His english was good, one of the best I had encountered actually, but there was definitely still something lost in translation. His next question was "Are you married then?" and again, I laughed and told him I thought myself too young to marry. He then was curious at how young I must be and asked my age. When I told him I was 19 he seemed surprised and was amazed at how I was traveling by myself this young. Now, I do realize I'm a young traveler, but seriously, this guy didn't seem that much older than me and he was acting as though I was a tweeny bopper running around the world alone.

I then decided to ask how old he was. "Oh I'm only 21.".........now it was my turn to be shocked that this guy was only 2 years older than me. He could literally be my older brother and here he was acting as though he was so much older than me. Granted, he did seem older than that being a teacher and all and living on his own. Turns out he takes college classes at night too. I guess it was a bigger shock for me considering I come from a society with such a radically different schooling system. I was used to the teachers, even kindergarten and pre-school, having college degrees. To see schools where the basic qualifications to be a teacher is to read, write, and have some math skills was undoubtedly a surprise. It definitely opened my eyes to how privileged I was to have the schooling I did.  Regardless, the teachers and headmaster there do put the most effort into teaching despite what their training might be and they were great to be around.

That Saturday after my new placement we all decided to take a day trip to Moshi. Moshi is the city/town place that many people stay at when hiking up or around Mt Kilimanjaro. It's a fairly bustling place, a bit busier than Arusha, but very similar to what we were used to. They do have a lot of shops and a bunch of them sold items like bags and elephant pants cheaper than in Arusha so of course we were stocking up.

After lunch and shopping (and getting sunburnt for me) we headed off to the hot springs that are nearby. Now, "nearby" and "hot" are both very general terms. The springs are a 20 minute bus ride from Moshi...and then an hour long taxi drive. So, yes, they are closer to Moshi than Arusha, but nearby isn't exactly the term I'd be using. The drive was interesting to say the least. Our drive had a single CD playing the entire time which had about 7 songs. I wouldn't have complained as much had they not been love ballads. ALL of them. Plus, half of which were in Swahili. We also had the added fun of having 6 people crammed in the taxi in addition to the driver. Comfy cozy!

When we finally arrive it was actually quite the surprise since we had been driving through more of a desert the whole time instead of some place that looked like it had a hot spring. At one point there was  a hose leading to a shallow pool of water that was a not-so-lovely shade of green, which, thankfully, was not the hot spring. But lo and behold, we keep driving, turn the corner, and there it was.

Clinging to the branch to prevent being
swept away by the current. And yes, there
WAS actually a current.

Getting in and out of the spring itself was a bit tricky since all around it was muddy and slippery. There were a bunch of tree roots that were somewhat helpful for lowering yourself in and clambering out (both in a not-so-graceful manner). There was also a cool rope swing that you could swing into the water with. Although I don’t quite have the upper body strength to do cool tricks (yet. just wait until after rugby season), it was the preferred way to get in the water. A few local boys were doing tricks with it. They also climbed impressively, and dangerously, up the trees and dropped into the water which I decided I wouldn't risk. I probably couldn't even hoist my butt up there so it wasn't even a problem!

As I mentioned earlier, "hot" is not what I'd call the temperature of the water. It was more of a not-completely-freezing type of temperature. It was still cool and refreshing (especially to us who had been crammed in a dusty taxi for the past hour), but I did adjust to it faster than say the ocean or a swimming pool. I overheard some other people talking about it though, and they were saying it was loads warmer than the cold springs they had swum in previously. I guess it's all just relative. I'm not so sure I would be as willing to swim in a cold spring if it was much cooler than the not-hot-but-barely-lukewarm-spring.

I don't think a single one of us is looking at the camera....

There was also no place to change here except for a tarp hastily thrown over a branch. We had conveniently had decided before we left to wear our swimsuits under out clothes so it wasn't that bad. Afterwards was a bit tricker getting back into clothes. I wasn't riding home in a wet swimsuit since I did not particularly feel like getting diaper rash. That meant I had to tap into my skills of changing in and out of a bathing suit with only a towel. Thank god I perfected it years ago at camp. =)

Anyways, it's a cool place and I'm glad we made the "nearby" stop to it on our way back. I returned to my school one last day on Monday. We had tried to schedule a waterfall hike on Sunday, but it eventually didn't work out and we rescheduled it for Tuesday. Since we had already made plans to leave for Zanzibar on Wednesday, that meant it was my last day at the school. Although I've done a fairly hefty amount of volunteer work here in the States with Girl Scouts and school and whatnot, The time I spent in both of the schools was definitely the most eye opening experience of my life. If I had chosen to simply travel and not volunteer I definitely would not have had the same experiences. Tourist Tanzania and real Tanzania are two very different things. I can safely assume that it's fairly similar across Africa and many parts of the world, but I can DEFINITELY say that I prefer the real world experiences. Not only has it made me more open minded and aware of my privileged position in the world, but it also makes for WAY better stories. =)