My knuckles turned white as the mini bus, or Dalla Dalla as they call it in East Africa, recklessly zoomed around the corner. A brief second ago I gazed out the cracked window to my side and noticed that the solid yellow line that separated the two lanes of the road was now oddly on my right.
Cars still drive on the right side of the road in Tanzania. The plastic and steel frame of the bus was clanking and shaking as we reached a speed of about 80 kmh (approximately 60 mph). We finally inched our way pass a similar bus when suddenly, the roaring horn of an 18-wheel semi-truck forced the driver to swerve back into our proper lane. A bead of sweat slipped over my temple as I slowly uncurled my toes. I was alive!
Close calls such as these are common stance on the roads of Tanzania - much more common than I would have preferred during my four-week jaunt to the nation that also holds the prestigious honor of being the most Malaria infected in Africa. I had plenty of non-human produced hazards to be wary of. The thought of dying a lonely death caused by a preventable auto-accident never occurred to me before I left my house for the summer. Staying clear of AIDS, Yellow Fever and ferocious man eating mammals occupied the 'take caution of' part of my mind. Little did I know that every time I stepped into a vehicle I was putting life and limb on the line.
The bus continued on down the road lumbering at a dangerously, steady pace. I was headed for the city of Moshi, the stepping off ground for my trek to the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro. I took a few deep breaths attempting to relax, but every time I inhaled the people on both my sides quickly moved in on the territory I had just succeeded by the contracting of my lungs. The acute nearness of my traveling companions forced my shoulders to compress into my spine. The elderly women next to me showed off her toothless smile and held out a pack of gum. I would have accepted her generous offer had I been able to move my arms, but I was packed as tight as a sardine (in retrospect I should have been wondering how she chewed gum without any teeth). I quickly realized that I was not going to be able to sleep any of the four hours I had remaining on my journey. I began to gaze around the countryside, but just as my mind began to flow into a state comfort a ghastly odor drifted into my nose. The young man to my right had obviously not showered in quite some time and the pungent odor drifting off him would have formed a green cloud in the shape of Slimer from Ghostbusters had I been able to see smells that day. I defiantly was not going to sleep now.
I made it home from Africa completely unscathed, but my perspective on life was not as fortunate (or was it more fortunate...?). Forever will I be affected by my experience in Tanzania - from my visit to an orphanage full of hundreds of impoverished, yet still smiling children, to piles of burning trash and feces, to my many close encounters on the roadways. These events and many more have helped shape a new perspective on life for me. I was lucky enough to reach the top of Mount Kilimanjaro, a moment that I thought would define my trip to Africa, but I was wrong. What defined my trip was not something I achieved, but something the local Tanzanians achieved for me. They helped me achieve new a state of realization.
Welcome to my blog. Ryan Yanoshak, our team's 'media guy' approached me about blogging for NCAA.com asking if I'd like "share my experiences." Mindlessly I responded with an enthusiastic, "absolutely!" Little did I know he was actually serious. So, here I am, writing this, and there you are, with your eyes focused on screen drifting out into the unknown dimension of cyberspace, reading it. Thank you. You've made my time and effort worthwhile.
Who am I, you may ask? Simply put, I am Matthew John Hickey, 22 years old, from Saint Paul, Minnesota. Currently, I am working through my senior (Firstie) year at the United States Military Academy. In the NCAA world we are known as Army. Over the next few months I will provide you with my perspectives, as they created through the life of a West Point Cadet. I will loosely relate my writings to ice hockey, which I play, but my entries will not be entirely focused on the sport. Instead, they will be aimed at other such things that make my experience, as well as my teammates' unique here at West Point. The realization that I achieved while in Tanzania may not have directly made me a better hockey player, but it certainly made me more appreciative of the sport I play and the opportunity I have to play it. And that, in some way, has made me a better hockey player.
#7
