What I learned from falling off a bicycle (from Sally)

In cycling, falling off the bike comes with the territory. At least, that’s the case for me.

I’m fairly new to this sport, and while I feel more confident and capable with every ride, I’m learnng that it’s the rare cyclist who can outmaneuver every unpredictable rough patch.

Fortunately, my scary spill in Tanzania was nothing more than that. Just scary. After four hours in the Kilimanjaro Medical Center (another story in and of itself), the x-rays of my neck showed no signs of injury, and my globalbike comrades and I were cleared to leave. Walking gingerly through the hospital hallways in sock feet, bruised a bit, and covered in the red dirt we’d been riding through, I could see we were quite a curiosity. The nurses, doctors and patients were clearly puzzled by our presence. The stares we got going back to the bus made me want to stop and tell our story.

I could see the questions in the eyes of the onlookers: “who were these Africans and Americans clad in cycling togs and looking every bit like friends?” and “what brought them together to ride bicycles in this remote corner of the continent?” Oddly enough, I have a feeling that it won’t be long before the word “globalbike” becomes a one-word descriptor in Tanzania to answer questions like those.

Back on the bus headed for the Honey Badger Lodge, we waved goodbye to the strangers who found us so strange and rode off to reunite with the rest of the riders waiting for us.

What happened next will forever be etched in my mind’s eye. It was a scene that sums up my sentiments about this trip and points to the essence of what happened while we were in Tanzania.

When we stepped off the bus at the campsite, there were cheers and tears. The whole team turned out to welcome us home, relieved that I was well and we were all together again. The reception line of well-wishers waiting for us and the exchange of love we shared will be a cherished memory – it was a crystallization of our connection and proof that people from very different pockets of the world can find common ground. Not only did we find it, we sought it out in one another. After days of living together, delving into one another’s stories, sharing meals as group, after pedaling up and down and around Mount Kilimanjaro, we moved beyond language, cultural and ethnic barriers and became a community. We sincerely cared about each other, and on that night, we embraced that bond by embracing one another.

By the end of this journey, it would be apparent that “them” and “us” were descriptors for who we had been when we were first introduced, but now our rag-tag team of tired riders, young and old, black and white, American and African, men and women, boys and girls, were a blended “we.”

This brilliant idea about transformative tourism worked, and the lessons we have learned from it, big and small, are significant.

I know that I am forever changed for what I experienced with globalbike in Africa. I’ve seen what can happen when people cultivate meaningful connections and care about a common goal. I’ve seen what can happen when we act on behalf of “we”.

Globalbike members hand off the flag they took around Mount Kilimanjaro via bicycle to a United Nations group that will continue to the top of the mountain with the flag.

Read the final Herald-Journal story about Sally’s “almost” lunch with Tanzanian President Jakaya Kikwete:

Lunch, flag handoff complete Globalbike’s journey to Tanzania

Globalbike members see firsthand results of their efforts →

Cycling crash changes plan for globalbike trip (and Sally says to reiterate that she REALLY IS COMPLETELY FINE!) →

For Tanzanian bike recipients, bicycles are just like a horse →

What was to be a restful safari turns into another unexpected adventure as the globalbike bus gets stuck in the mud! Thankfully, helpful natives assisted in pushing the bus back onto the street. Quote from Sally as the group exits the bus: “Surprise” and quote from Jess after walking a mile back to their camp: “I feel like it’s dinner time.” Read the full story at http://tanzania.blogs.goupstate.com/10155/video-globalbike-buses-get-stuck-in-the-mud/

If it’s Thursday We Must Be in Ndarakwai (from Sally)

We are taking a rest today. After three days on the bikes, cycling over the roughest roads I have ever ridden on (either by bike or by car) the break from the bike is a welcome treat. 

There are no words for what we are experiencing here in Africa. The issue of violence against girls and women would have been lost on me were it not for this trip with Globalbike. The concept behind this trip is something that Globalbike is calling transformative tourism and to understand you must touch it and live it and see it. Places don’t change us, but people do.

But back to my story about the issue we are learning about firsthand. This is the story of a new friend of mine named Iddah. She is 16 and has finished level seven in school and hopes desperately to finish her high school education. But here in Africa the children are not afforded a public education so if Iddah’s mother is uanble to come up with the $150 per year for school she will not continue on. My heart aches for what awaits her if she must stop her studies. 

Just as I have seen first hand, mile after mile on the bike…Iddah’s education will be for naught if she stops now. She will join her mother and the other women in her family either in the fields or making ends meet by selling fruit or vegetables on the side of the road. Should she end up working in the fields, she will endure a life of back breaking work. She will live in a stick shack with no electricity, no running water and no indoor plumbing. She will likely be married, have children and they too will work the fields with her. She will come home day after day to cook dinner for her husband, and if she refuses she will be beaten. She will not refuse her her husband anything for fear she will be hurt. 

Sadly, before Iddah is married and bearing children she will likely be raped several times. Most girls like Iddah are sexually active around the age of 9 or 10. Life for most girls and women in Tanzania, who are poor, is a daily struggle. But Iddah’s joy is irrerepressable. Her smile is broad and she is bright and brilliant. She wants to be a journalist and I believe that because of the connections she has made this week, because of the cultural collaboration that we are a part of…she has a very good chance for a very good life.

Clobalbike shock: bicycles delivered to Tanzania in pieces

Read the Herald-Journal story at http://www.goupstate.com/article/20120229/ARTICLES/203011015

Airplane Tales (from Jess)

I have to share this story. Because, how often do you sit in between a social activist and a bomb technician? On the first leg of our trip we were heading to Minneapolis and our team was scattered amongst strangers. I found my seat, 10C, and sat down. Squeezing my backpack underneath the seat in front of me, like a good airline passenger does, and fastening my seat belt I greeted my row buddy. His name was John and this was the 3rd leg of his journey and he was excited to be home. John told me he had been living in Afghanistan for over a year and a half and could not wait to be home to his wife. If you take a moment to think about how a bomb technician may act, I think you’d be pretty close to John. He was an older man, bearded and spoke barely loud enough to be heard over the roar of the plane’s engines. Every word John spoke seemed to be well-thought and spoken seriously, even when he made a joke about the quality of the airline’s peanuts. Our conversation was rather common until after he overheard my conversation with my other row companion. His name was Josh Young and he started by asking me if we (the team) had a layover in Amsterdam. I replied that we did and I quickly learned that Josh had visited Africa, and Tanzania specifically, many times. Josh worked for a company called “Hydrating Humanity” (DC) which is headquartered in Fort Mill, South Carolina. He and his wife were flying to Minneapolis for a wedding. Josh began to tell me that Hydrating Humanity (HH) worked in Africa to help people gain access to clean water. More than that, he told me about his project leaders not only are investing in the communities by implementing the technology to access wells or natural springs but also educate communities on basic water hygiene. It is hard to fathom for most Americans that more people die from dirty drinking water “than all acts of violence combined (including wars, tsunamis and earthquakes)”*. As Josh spoke his eyes seem to light up and you could feel the passion he had for the work of HH. Personally, I was beyond intrigued. My heart for non-profit/NGO work and my business-geared mind wanted to stand up and shout “YES!”. I firmly believe in work, like that of HH which not only treats a community’s issue but treats the core of the problem in the first place. Too often organizations which are grounded in good intentions sweep in with grand gestures, play hero for a day and leave on the next jet plane. Instead, HH does something bigger. They invest in the people of the towns they enter. Three steps in their system helps to make lasting change: HH finds “cooperative leaders who are ready to embrace lasting transformation”, then hold community meetings to teach people how the system works and give them an idea on how beneficial maintaining this system will be to their lives and those of their families. What a beautiful idea. I could not have asked for a better way to gain perspective. When the conversation between Josh and me began to lull, John spoke up. He said, “I’m so glad there are people like you and those in your group in the world.  I’ve seen too much darkness and you all bring so much light.” As we continue our journey I hope we do as John said and spread some light in the world.