Yesterday I told you about my best friend Maiki, who is a Tanzanian man living in Tanzania. That got me thinking that I might write about the time I spent in Tanzania myself, back in 2007–2008. It's hard to believe that I first went there 18 years ago—it really feels like just yesterday.
Back in 2007, I was 26 years old and had been with my boyfriend Richard for just over two years. We met in the Young Liberals of all things, and we were affiliated with different factions. I was associated with the conservative faction—which I have in no way ever truly been a part of—but I have a bit of a family history in the party, and my parents were part of the right. Richard was part of the left. I think the fact that the factions had a problem with us being in a relationship is actually what fuelled the flame.
He was a very good-looking man, but he was super arrogant and very unusual. I think I liked that about him in the beginning, but the novelty soon wore off. He was a devout Catholic and had been home-schooled with his many brothers, and I think somewhere along the way they forgot to teach him any social skills whatsoever.
He lived in this huge house on LeFevre Terrace in North Adelaide with two of his brothers. It was a beautiful double-storey house with high ceilings. In his room he had a fireplace, and I remember on winter nights he would light a fire and we would go to sleep in this beautifully cosy and warm room to the sound of a crackling flame.
Richard and I were in a bit of a routine. He worked for a Minister in the Howard Government, and I was temping long-term in the Service SA call centre—which sounds like it’s motor reg and that kind of thing, but it was actually the state government switchboard. It was a cool job. We had to know a bit about every department, which I learnt very quickly, and I think I did my job well.
I would stay at his house a few nights a week, and other nights I would stay at my parents'. At the very beginning, things were exciting and new, and as we sort of merged our lives together, I was very happy. But about halfway through our relationship, I found out that he had cheated on me. I was annoyed and instantly broke up with him, but I didn’t feel a great sense of loss. We had pretty much stopped sleeping together, and I’d lost interest in him—which is probably why he cheated. I was sad to have ended the relationship like that, though.
But then he rocked up at my house crying with flowers, and I felt so bad for making him upset that I said yes when he asked me if I would give him a second chance. Another year went by, and I was not feeling it at all. He talked about getting married and having children, but I definitely did not see that in our future. I wanted to break up with him so badly, but I just couldn’t bear to see him crying again. I felt trapped, and he had developed a strong relationship with my mother which really annoyed me. Looking back, I think that’s the real reason he was crying—that he would have lost her support for his future endeavours.
Anyway, I suddenly became very drawn to Africa. I would listen to African music and search Africa online, and that’s what led me to Mt Kilimanjaro and eventually Tanzania. I decided I would leave my temp job at Service SA and go volunteer in Moshi, Tanzania, teaching English as a second language.
Richard and I weren’t on the best terms, but nothing dramatic had happened. I told him I was going for two months, and he accepted it—as did my parents. My dad was very worried, because in his mind he had the whole continent of Africa down as a war-torn danger zone, but they eventually got excited for my trip. So off I went.
I booked my trip through a volunteer travel company called i-to-i, which was a large international organisation that worked with local projects who looked after the volunteers. I flew from Adelaide to Singapore, then to Amsterdam, and finally to Kilimanjaro International Airport.
My luggage didn’t arrive, and the man from i-to-i came and helped me. He gave them his number to call when my luggage came. I can’t remember this man’s name — I had a lot to do with him because he ran the organisation in Tanzania — so I’ll call him Simon.
Simon was there to pick me up along with a handful of other volunteers. It was night-time, and I did feel a little bit anxious, but the excitement overrode any worries I had. We took a forty-minute drive to Moshi, which is a small town on the slopes of Mount Kilimanjaro. There were no street lights on the way to Moshi. I knew we were in a semi-rural area, but we couldn’t really see anything out the windows.
Simon took us to a large residential compound made up of two houses with high fences and a very large gate at the front. We were shown to our rooms, which were bedrooms with bunk beds in them. Everybody got a good sleep that night because we were all so tired from our long journeys.
The next day, I was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. I had slept in them, and I was really looking forward to my luggage arriving. I think our first day was a lazy day around the compound — from memory, it was a weekend.
On a good day, when it’s not too cloudy, you can just look out from the front of the compound and see Mt Kilimanjaro — towering, majestic, and surreal. You can see a photo I took of it below.
There were a few Masai men working for I to I. They wear a tartan-like blanket wrapped around themselves and carry a stick. They also wear a lot of beaded jewellery. The most distinctive feature of the Masai was that they were all so good-looking. They live out in the bush, in Masai huts, and are totally off the grid. The few guys I met at the compound had phones, and some spoke English — though not well.
The primary job for a Masai man at the compound was to guard the gate, especially at night. They literally just stay up all night and do nothing, but it made me feel safer to know there was someone awake while I was asleep.
They are known as Masai Warriors. I’ve heard legends that, as part of becoming a man around age 16, they have to hunt a lion with just a spear and their bare hands. They are also circumcised without anaesthetic in their early teens.
There were a couple of cooks and cleaners — actually, there were quite a few staff — but one Masai man, who I’ll call Kai, really caught my attention. He was tall and absolutely gorgeous. He looked so exotic in his blanket with all his jewellery. The Masai are famous for literally just jumping high — it looks amazing when a group of them do it together.
The staff all lived at another house not far from the compound. I introduced myself to Kai, and we hit it off immediately. I could tell that he liked me, but I wasn’t sure if it was because he thought I had money or if he genuinely saw something in me.
There were around eight other volunteers at the compound, mainly from the UK. Mostly young — like 19 or 20 — but there was one older woman, Muriel, who I think was in her forties which is where I am now... hard to believe she seemed so old back then.
All the volunteers were sitting together when Simon came up to us and, directing his comment at me, said, “Your mother called, and your luggage will be here later today.” Everyone laughed — because, of course, my mother had called him.
I sort of laughed too, but honestly, my mother can be very persistent when she wants to be, so I could just imagine her on the phone to the airline, not taking no for an answer.
My luggage finally arrived, and I had fresh clothes again.
On our first weekday, a staff member walked us to our projects. My project was very far away, and it was a long walk. I was taken to a vocational training centre that taught hospitality, IT, home economics, English, and — I think — some other subjects, though I can’t remember now.
There was a local teacher, Ruth, who took the classes. The school itself was sort of in a shed. Don’t get me wrong — it had concrete floors and desks, chairs, a blackboard, and in another room it had computers, sewing machines, and basic equipment. It also had dorms for the students to sleep in.
The students ranged from 16 years old to around 24, and I found that intimidating, with them being a bit older. Ruth, the teacher, threw me in the deep end straight away — and that’s when I realised I knew absolutely no English grammar. So I thought on my feet and switched to hospitality training.
I thought about all the jobs in hospitality — like barman, waitress, chef, receptionist, manager — and I talked about them, wrote things on the board, and winged it through my first lesson. In the days that followed, we did more computer classes, which I hope I was at least a little useful in.
At night, the volunteers would all sit around and plan lessons together. One night, I fell on the gravel in the front yard and a rock became lodged in my shin. It was unbelievably painful. I went back to the house, and the power was out. One of the volunteers was a vet, and she had a first aid kit — she dislodged the rock and cleaned up all the blood. It was like a midnight surgery by torchlight. I’ll never forget that. I’ve still got a scar from it.
Every day, I’d go to my project, and then at night, I’d hang out with the other volunteers — and I also spent a lot of time talking to Kai at the front of the house, where all the Masai used to gather.
One night, he asked me if I’d like to see where the staff lived, and I said yes — so we snuck out of the compound, and he walked me there. When we got there, we talked for what seemed like forever... and then we kissed. I didn’t want to go any further, because I was still technically in a relationship. But we established that we really liked each other.
The next day, I took all of my students by taxi to the internet café in town to teach them how to set up an email account. While I was going through my own emails — I broke up with Richard. Over email.
I was cold. Harsh. And yes, I felt bad — but I felt a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and I was free to pursue a relationship with Kai. And that’s exactly what I did.
We very quickly became close, and we would stay at these cheap and nasty little hotels because I didn’t have much money. Sometimes we hung out at the staff house. Everyone knew about it, and they thought it was funny.
My friend Lucy was also having a fling — with an absolutely gorgeous Masai man named Zach. I think there were rules that i-to-i staff weren’t supposed to fraternise with the volunteers, but from the stories I’d heard, it had happened all the time.
I came across a lot of Muslim people in Tanzania, which was really cool. There were many men wearing those traditional hats, and women in hijabs and full burqas. Some of my students were Muslim.
One day, I was at the blackboard with Ruth when she asked a Muslim girl to remove her veil. I didn’t know what she was getting at, but then she said, “I was just checking to see if you had a bomb under there,” and started hysterically laughing.
I couldn’t believe it.
I looked at the girl — she sort of laughed too, but you could tell she was offended. I didn’t comment on it. I don’t know if I should have, but at the time I thought it was best to stay out of that kind of thing.
It was coming close to the end of my time in Moshi, Tanzania, and I felt so sad about leaving Kai. I thought about bringing him to Australia with me, not knowing how unbelievably unrealistic — and likely impossible — that would be.
On one of my last weekends, I went on a short safari with Muriel. We were driving towards the Ngorongoro Crater, but we spent our first night in a Masai village. It was a group of huts made of mud and straw, and we slept inside one of the huts — each with a family, as well as goats and a cow. It was a surreal experience. I didn’t sleep all night, but I’m so glad I did it.
The next day, we were off to the crater. It was a steep drive down, and it was so beautiful. We saw all the animals — lions, elephants, giraffes, wildebeest — all of them.
Then, as we were driving up the crater to get out, the car broke down. Because of that, i-to-i, who had arranged the safari, put us up in a five-star hotel at the edge of the crater — the Serena Lodge. It was stunning: a beautiful room, incredible views, amazing food. It was a world away from the night before in the Masai hut.
The car was fixed, and we made our way back to Moshi.
I had missed Kai, and that made me realise how much I truly liked him — and that I wanted to live in Tanzania to be with him. I loved everything about Tanzania: the smell of burning rubber, the beautiful, lush green plant life surrounding the roads, the people, the call to prayer every afternoon as you’re dozing in and out of a light nap... but most of all, I loved Kai. I wanted to be with him.
As I prepared to leave, I knew one thing for certain: somehow, I was going to come back and live there with him. So just before I left, I told him, “I’ll be back.”
