Recently, I was going through pictures (as a mum does) and I stumbled upon a picture of my kids riding motorbikes. And I immediately thought: that is something they did because their stepdad did it. And of course, he did it because Africa is an ideal place to do so: ride a dirtbike. So then the thought hit me: I am going to tell people about the stuff we did because we lived where we lived.
And yes... you could debate they might have done some of these things in Belgium but let us not over-analyze the fun out of this. I will definitely have fun reminiscing about the cool stuff we did.
So this is the picture in question. The girls went around the track to get comfortable with the bike and after some laps, they got a briefing from A. And although it never became their big passion, I was happy they tried and that they were open to his favourite passtime. Maybe I should have forced them to stick with it for a while at least but well.. At least they tried and they are now comfortable on a bike.
Motorbikes were not the only thing they rode by the way..
And the irony? It was a bit of a hassle to teach them how to ride a normal bike. Flat, paved roads are not exactly a regular thing in Africa and the children-size bicycles we had to import! Not your regular story when you come from 'le plat pays'. So the eldest ended up learning to ride a bicycle in Belgium when we were there and the youngest learnt on the raspberry farm.
Another thing they tried (I should say: we tried), was archery. In Africa, we had the opportunity to meet a lot of different people, and their hobby or profession, and one of them happened to be a world renowned bowhunter. The three of us learnt how to handle a bow, and practiced several times. The same person actually also taught us how to shoot a gun, and even though I am strongly against firearms, I also believe it is better to teach your kids how to swim than fence the pool so they are now no longer nervous around a gun. But I hope this statement will never be put to the test.
Stay tuned.. because I am already inspired to write the next post! So many stories..
Even though I left Tanzania some years ago, I have lived there long enough to have left a piece of my heart at the foot of the Kilimanjaro. So it is only normal that I still follow what happens in this part of the world.
I was pretty surprised to hear the following succession of events:
- John Magafuli (the president at the time) denied the existence of Corona, downplayed the whole pandemic tale, claiming it was a white people's hoax, and advised the Tanzanian people to go to church to pray if they were sick (leading to more contamination and undoubtedly to more deaths).
- Magafuli then got Corona... and passed away.
- He was then succeeded by Samia Suluhu Hassan, the first Tanzanian female vicepresident. She became the second female head of state in Africa, although I think Ethiopa's female president has a role that is mostly ceremonial.
Of course, she has sparked both hope and controversy. In dealing with Magafuli's inheritance of denying Corona, she started a long overdue vaccination campaign in the country with international help, so kudos to her. But just like any other politician - regardless of gender - she has said some things people do not agree with.
The oddest - or even unbelievable - statement was when she remarked that female football players are not pretty (because flatchested) and therefore not attractive candidates for marriage. That is not only a strange remark because it is sexist and she should stand for female rights more than anyone else but then I also wonder when and where she became a reference of beauty.. sometimes I just feel that the world has changed and some people did not get the memo?
I was also very happy to hear that the Nobel Prize for Literature went to another Tanzanian, Zanzibari even. Abdulrazak Gurnah was born and raised in Zanzibar but he fled in the sixties. So once again, this event caused both outcries of pride and a lot of debate. He wrote all his books in England, the place where he has lived for over half a century. He wrote his work in English even though his mother tongue is Kiswahili.
Call me naive or call me an optimist but I feel only happiness, with little nuance. The fact that a black African writer is awared for his work is enough for me. And the fact that Tanzanians now have a legitimate reason to debate identity is only a bonus. If more people now read his books, and his sales go up - all the better!
I for one bought his book "Paradise" because I read good reviews. I have been in a bit of an African-writer-period anyway - with the the likes of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Trevor Noah and Achmat Dangor - because we introduce those books in high school.
This year, I am also guiding a student that is not only new in the school but has also only been in the country for a short time. Very coincidentally, they assigned me a Tanzanian girl, and what are the odds: she is from Zanzibar. And just like so many children of immigrants she is utterly amazing: learning Dutch in recordtime and adjusting easily as only kids can do, bearing more burdens than a child should ever have to. My help is probably just a drop on a hot plate but the other day she said it was nice to speak Kiswahili with someone for a second (as limited as it was).
PS 26 Nov 2021: and what are the odds: international news boasts yet another good evolution in Tanzania: https://www.bbc.com/news/topics/cjnwl8q4qdrt/tanzania
I cannot explain precisely why but I love Italy. LOVE it. But then again, I also cannot imagine why anyone would question it anyway. What's not to love? Great food, beautiful cities, long coastline, immeasurable amounts of history and culture, fashion capital.. I think the words 'picturesque' and 'elegant' were invented for Italy - or anything even remotely Italian, come to think of it. So now that I am - once again - living in Europe, and this epitome of elegance is merely a stonethrow away (or a Ryan Air flight, which sometimes feels like the same thing), I did my fair share of travelling there over the last three years.
First on the list - and indeed a gem to start with - was Florence (Firenze, I should say). I have to add, it was partly on the top of my list because I was going to visit R, a dear friend and ex-colleague from East-Africa.
So first I made a reservation online to see the Duomo on the inside, queued for that, and then I thought that all the other days, I could just wing it - which is what I did. It was a week of ticking off things on my bucket list: crossing the Ponte Vecchio, spending hours in the Uffizi, admiring David and the birth of Venus.. R and myself took a daytrip to Siena to top it all off. Bliss.
I visited Palermo because a Sicilian once cooked spagetthi for me in Africa :)
No seriously.. I have a friend that is from Palermo and he always spoke about his hometown with such love and respect that I was intrigued. I have to admit that I did not know anything about the city (nor the island) unless what I had seen in 'the Godfather'.
My expectations were exceeded, and they were pretty high to begin with. Palermo itself is a beautiful city, just utterly gorgeous. But it was summer and so I also took the bus to Mondello beach, walked to Cefalu, wandered around the harbour, visited the street markets, and of course: visited museums and cathedrals, and ate all the Sicilian specialties (A gave me a list of what to eat where).
It is funny how the island's special location gives it its unique character: it is unmistakably Italian but there are so many apparent influences from neighbouring countries and cultures. Will most definitely go back there.
My third visit can be clasified as sheer luck. My school offers the magnificicent possibility to follow extra schooling abroad, and as it so happend, the course that my colleague and I were interested in, was in Bologna. So we headed to the Erasmus training centre: Lessons in the morning, and strolling the elegant streets of Bologna in the afternoon, who can say no to that?
This time around, I was provided with a list by yet another native and ex-colleague (thank you E). While discovering the city, I especially loved the arcades, running all the way through the city centre, which allowed us to keep exploring the city even when it drizzled. The city is known for its towers and yes, the view after climbing one of them was mindblowing but 500 stairs one way made me surprisingly dizzy. We managed to squeeze in two museum visits and a steep uphill 2-hour walk walk to San Luca.
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