I know that I won't be able to fully describe the feeling I had on that day, the swelling sense of freedom and joy at running under the hot sun up the dirt road, seeing an occasional motor bike and passing Maasai children tending cattle on the hillside. On that day, I think I was as happy as I have ever been to be a runner. Although it sounds like an exaggeration, without that run I'm not sure how much I would have understood about Oju, about Arusha, about myself. That run seemed to make all the difference -- and for a few hours, at least, I didn't have to see Tanzania through the eyes of a baffled, apprehensive tourist, but instead could feel it through the soles of my feet and in the dust of the road stretching lazily before us.
To explain what led to that run in Monduli, I have to go back a few years.
When Joni returned to Tanzania in 2007, she didn't really have any plan that covered basic things like finding a place to stay. She had many friends and contacts in Arusha, though, so she ended up there and set about figuring out the next step. Although I don't know the whole series of events that led her there, Joni ended up staying for several months in Monduli with a woman named Rose, a teacher who worked at a school that served the local Maasai. Joni lived with her and helped take care of her house and two young sons.
Joni with Rose and her two sons
While living in Monduli, Joni began getting to know some of the people who worked at the open air market in the center of town. One of those people was Oju, a young man in his early twenties who sold produce there. They became friends, and Joni discovered that Oju liked to run. Or to put it more exactly, she found out that he would regularly run from Monduli to the Masaai market that was held twice a week in the village of Monduli Juu, about 9 kilometers away.
Joni and Oju selling tomatoes at the Monduli market, circa June 2007. Notice she is wearing a BSC XC Championship t-shirt
At least once, Joni ran part of the way with Oju. It was then that she found out that the road to Monduli Juu started easily but then rose sharply over a thousand feet into the hills. I remember her writing about this run, and I remember wishing I could have seen that road.
Back in the present, I knew there would be few opportunities to run. The city was crowded and dirty and not very pleasant, and the bush was far too dangerous. As a runner herself, Joni understood instinctively my need to do a "real" run, and she arranged it with Oju that he and I would run together in Monduli on one of our free days. As the day approached, I experienced a mix of intense anticipation for the run tempered by a small voice in my head that wondered whether I'd be able to handle it.
I don't think non-runners really understand or appreciate that even fit runners always have these voices of self-doubt. Going into a race or even a challenging workout we always wonder whether we'll be able to handle it. I was in that same state of mind thinking about the run with Oju. Here, in no particular order, were the things that worried me and nagged at my self-confidence:
The sun - I was newly arrived from New England, where the temperature had been below freezing for three weeks and the sun was a listless visitor lurking low on the horizon in a half-hearted appearance for nine hours out of every twenty-four. From that reality, I would be running for a couple of hours in the middle of the twelve-hour equatorial day, with the sun directly overhead. As far as I knew, we would have no water for the twelve mile round trip.
The hills - From Joni's description, these hills seemed really steep and really long. I didn't know exactly what that meant, but having seen the hills around Arusha, I was anxious that I would need oxygen for the mountains ahead.
Oju - I really had no idea how fit Oju was, but I knew that he did this run regularly and that he had sprinted up the hill behind his parents' house with a spring in his stride that I hadn't felt in twenty-five years. I knew he wouldn't abandon me, but I didn't want to be a weakling on this run and not be able to keep up with him.
It was with these thoughts in my head that I prepared for our third day in Tanzania
We woke early, ate breakfast, and headed downtown. The plan was to do a few errands, meet Oju, find a dala dala heading to Monduli and get there in the late morning. Oju and I would run. Joni and the others would visit with Rose and her kids and have lunch with them. In the afternoon, we would get a ride back to Arusha from another of Joni's friends who was heading that way.
Our second trip into the city was scarcely less chaotic than the first one. The day before had been a Sunday, and many shops and businesses had been closed. Now it was Monday, and the level of activity seemed to be at least double. Everything took longer. Everyone seemed a little more aggressive, a little more edgy. Even Joni began to get exasperated as she tried to guide us through the hubbub to places where we could do our errands, while brushing off the flycatchers who trailed after us.
When it was time to leave, it took us a long time to find a dala dala that was not empty. The problem with the empty ones was that, this being Africa, they wouldn't leave until they were full. So if we wanted to avoid waiting for another hour, we had to find one that was already half full but that had room for the six of us. Eventually we settled for one that was mostly empty, and put up with several circuits of the downtown area as the dala dala's driver and runner tried to round up more riders. With all this, we didn't actually leave Arusha until about 11:30, and didn't arrive in the Monduli until 45 minutes later.
Monduli seemed very small and provincial after Arusha, not that this was a mark against it. For one thing, the air was much better here. For another, no one immediately came over to sell us stuff. Joni gave us a very brief tour of the market, greeted some old friends, and then it was time for our party split up.
As everyone else headed off to Rose's house, Oju and I went to drop off my backpack at Oju's room, which was one of several in a one-story cinder block building near the main square. I took another long drink of water from the bottle I had brought with me, and then left it in Oju's room. It was time to start running, and I was giddy with anticipation.
Ah, but I have forgotten to tell you about Oju's shoes.
To be continued...
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