Learning how to learn

I once mentioned that I started but didn't finish a course on learning how to learn, and that it made me a meta learner.Well, sorry to  disappoint you, I lied, about the meta-learner part that is. Perhaps if I actually finished the course I would have mastered the art of learning.

So, I get asked a lot when I'll do my masters, I guess I should I expect it because of  footprint I leave on the internet. So like the existential question, "What do you want to be when you grow up?", I politely give a political answer deal with the triggered midlife crisis. See, I took the rebellious decision of only mastering in something I'm really interested in, thanks to suffering through 4 years of slaving through a degree I signed up for just cause it sounded cool. Don't worry I will go to grad school for cool things like Deep Learning, Quantum Computing, Computational Neuroscience, Bioinformatics ,Cloud Computing, a combination or all the above, just not now.

Now, I'm trying a thing called deliberate self-learning, where I pick a topic, focus on fully understanding and practising it for a given period of time, no deadlines, no tests, no assignments, no peer pressure. It really sounds easy when you put it that way. Only after doing it do I appreciate structured curriculums. Most of the curation and planning has already been done and all you have to do is follow through, usually in class setting with all the support you need. Self learning does have the perks of control over everything your pace, your specialization, your network, but then of course, there's a catch. Gregory Brown described it perfectly in the blogpost: A thousand degrees of freedom. Perhaps the hardest thing about self-learning is you don't know what you don't know. With all the knowledge out there, it can feel overwhelming to not know so much, it can feel intimidating to be surrounded by 'experts' and even harder to reach out to them. All feelings considered, you are almost guaranteed to be slow, which awakens other demons. Deliberate practise of self improvement has never been easy, not because there is an enemy out there who is out to get you. Trust me, those are easier to fight, the real battle is the never-ending battle against the self-sabotaging inner voice. The voice that would rather do nothing than fail.

I'm (not yet) a meta-learner but I have one or two things to say about learning. Be kind to yourself, take as many breaks as you need, however long you want them, small progress is better than none. No one was born knowing it all, we all start somewhere.  I believe we can all relate to being beginners sometime, even those you think are 'experts'. Reach out to them, you'll be surprised at how helpful they may be, directly or indirectly. You will feel confused and lost, don't fight it, feel it, clarity only follows confusion.

Learning is a lot like muscle building, you have to tear them to build them. It is indeed painful, which is why you need a good reason, a fundamental reason to do it. Doesn't matter whether the goal is career progression, career transition, a burning curiosity, social status, whatever moves you. Whether or not you'll reach that goal, I can't guarantee, but you'll definitely be a better person.

Thanks for reading and have a great week ahead!

The Kili story

Flying High

It all started with a beautiful morning. The weather was good, the streets were quiet, then I started walking up the mountain, before I knew it I was up on top of the highest mountain in Africa and the tallest freestanding mountain in the world a.k.a the roof of Africa, Mount Kilimanjaro. Ok..I wish, of course it takes a bit more than good weather to achieve such feats. Rather its a story of the essence of being human, so grab a cuppa and tag along.

The why?
If you have been following my blog then you have probably a guest post by my brother who climbed it last year. Well, I also didn't mention that it is the only thing he's been talking about since then, beginning all conversations with "When I was at Kili ...". Being the curious character that I am, I had no choice but to add it to my bucket list. Since then it had been sitting at the back of my head waiting for the right time. That happened after graduating, when I got the time and resources for hobbies madness. When I asked my brother to hook me to his agency, I was informed that the next group would be climbing end of July, which coincided with a time I would be in Tanzania. And that my friend, is how I found myself being a mountain hugging creature.

The preparation

Machame Route

I signed up for the Machame route which is the longest and for good reason deemed the most difficult a.k.a the vodka route. It involves walking uphill at least 5 hours a day for 6 days; a feat that is almost impossible without  both physical and mental preparation. My regular running schedule and the proximity of mountains in Cape Town made prep a lot more convenient, note the word, convenient, not easy, convenient.

Doing CapeTown things #Hiking

In addition to regular runs, I stepped it every Thursday by running a full 20K (yes a full marathon, hills and valleys and all) before work. It wasn't easy but by the end of the run my mind was crystal clear, just what I needed at the end of the work.

On the weekends I would be somewhere on Table Mountain, on yet another new and exciting route. Through the different groups I hiked with, I met lots of people, nice people, interesting people, software engineers, a number who had climbed Kili and a lot more who kept asking if I have climbed Kili, being Tanzanian and all. That was exactly the motivation I needed.

Somewhere on Table Moutain

Even with all the preparation, the thought of cancelling was always looming around. When I missed a workout or a hike, when things were blurry at work, in short whenever life happened .Believe it or not, up until 2 weeks before the climb I was thinking of cancelling. Luckily, if I did, there would be no refund so I had no choice.

I swear I've never better taken care of myself than the week before the climb. No workout was missed, every step I took was calculated. It was Do or Die kind of situation. Up until I arrived at the Machame gate of Kilimanjaro National Park, I was still unsure whether I would follow through but guess from there on, THERE IS NO TURNING BACK.

Day One: Machame Gate (1800m) to Machame Camp (3000m)

Definitely not ready

Day one was literally a walk in the park, not very steep. We were welcomed with friendly blue monkeys, a rain-forest, beautiful flora.

Blue Monkey friend

the rainforest

"impatiens kilimanjari"

The real challenge was the mental one, the voice that kept saying, "This is it, Are you sure you ". I am forever grateful for the company of experienced guides who kept pushing and encouraging us as well as 7 other climbers who empathized with all the struggles, encouraging you if you need a break. I walked really fast, but it didn't seem get to get any closer . Just when I was about to give up, I saw the signpost for Machame Camp at 2835m above sea level.

Almost giving up

There it is!

Although the camp is not very high, there was a lot to acclimatize to that night. We were so far from civilization,  the phone signal was so weak that I gave up on communicating, the night was cold, we were already above the clouds, sleeping in tents, helping ourselves in the bushes, and the air was starting to get thinner. This was among the many reasons I couldn't sleep. In between staring at walls and unsuccessful attempts of trying to sleep I was reading 'What do you care what other people think'  by Richard Feynman.

Above the clouds

Day Two: Machame Camp (3000m) to Shira 1 Camp (3750m)
Aside: Shira Camp is named after the Shira Peak, the oldest peak of Mount Kili, probably because we could see it from this camp
I decided to take it slow not only because I was tired but also because it was a very steep climb for almost 4 hours.  It was the beautiful scenery of the moorland vegetation, the clouds below us,the toilet breaks and chats with guides and porters that made it much more pleasurable. After being covered in the forest for 2 days we finally caught a glimpse of the mountain and got even more excited.Interesting plants we learnt about are the everlasting flower which flourishes on the mountain and the "old man beards" tree which has a symbiotic relationship with moss.

Saw the lady, Saw the target 

Flying high 

The everlasting flower

Old man's beard is warmed by moss which seeks shelter on it.

 You have no idea how much feels of doubt and hope crept through me. They say walking clears your mind, I could see 10 years into my future. We met another group from Singapore that was on the same route and routine as us. It was comforting to learn that they like us, were taking it slow.

We took our time

 The chitchats were great, but nothing was comforting as seeing the colorful tents on Shira Camp just a few meters away. We arrived very exhausted to find other groupmates waiting for us, but the cool thing about arriving late is we find food ready. We had lunch , then had a bit of chill time before we went up again to acclaimatize with the high altitude. At 3750m above sea level, my whole body was screaming resistance but I limped through it anyway. On the way we saw Shira Cave which was previously used for cooking and camping, activities which are now prohibited due to volcanic activity.

In rainbow colors in Shira Cave

The view of the two camps was also very rewarding.

Shira 2 camp from afar

Being poetic

I winded the day with reading, dinner then sleeping, (no, trying to sleep), while nursing period pains and muscle cramps #FunTimes. I believe, my body was still trying to figure out what is happening.

Day Three Shira 1 Camp(3750m) to Lava Tower(4600m) to Baranco Camp( 3950m)
Here comes joke, on the third day we gained about 800m elevation only to loose it by walking back down, so much for acclimatizing...
Bright and early we started our day, washed wiped (there are no bathrooms) ourselves then walked up the gentle slope. One of our teammates was suffering from a cold, so we walked at his pace really slow. It was heart breaking seeing the porters overburdened by our luggages struggling, despite the fact that we payed for the service. Although it was encouraging to see experienced people struggle, it was still heart breaking. My engineering mind started thinking of a possibility of a cable car for porting luggages and those who are physically limited from climbing. I hope someone has thought about this.

I was feeling energised so I walked faster, against the guide's advice who insisted on "polepole" (slow) to adjust to higher altitudes. One of our fast group mates got very sick, lost his appetite and vomited. This is where I actually appreciated my always-on, larger-than-life appetite, like for once its good for my existence not evil. After lunch, we started descending towards Baranco Camp and boy was it fun. Just when you think its getting easier, heavy rain pours, you cross the same river a hundred times , your nails hurt from sliding down. I wont complain though, I got to see waterfalls and the giant groundsel. The giant groundsel is peculiar in that it grows near to water sources  and its leaves never die, they protect it from the cold.

I saw a waterfall

With the giant groundsel

Day Four: Baranco Camp (3950m) to Karanga Camp(3930m)

Vultures and four-stripped-mice are perhaps the only fauna on the moutain

#Views #Ice

Colors of Baranco Camp

The plan was to climb the famous Baranco wall(4600m), descend into Karanga river and then climb up again to Karanga camp (4200m). The name Karanga means nuts, it is derived from the river that flows besides the camp all the way to Moshi town where it waters ground nuts among other crops.

We were warned about cliff hanging and kissing walls on Baranco wall but it wasn't enough preparation for the adventure. For CapeTown hikers, imagine Lions Head chains, made slightly more technical , more in number, more traffic and at a higher altitude. At one point of cliff hanging I looked down and started questioning all my life choices. Then again, the traffic jam and rage brought me back to reality. It was definitely fun. After the wall, I was very energised so with permission from my guide I joined the Singapore group since they were slightly faster. I got the chance to chat with porters, rangers and guides who were surprised to see a young Tanzanian climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. Yap, you guessed it, before taking this challenge I was also a regular Tanzanian who took photos  of the mountain and took pride in the mountain but never thought about climbing it. To make even matters worse, my tribe is from the Kilimanjaro region, yet I was the only Tanzanian in our climbing group, the rest being from East Africa and Switzerland. I arrived at the camp with little energy to read or do anything rather. Went to our dining tent, where we symbolically ate nuts (Karanga translates to nuts in English) and played 30 seconds until the guide had to force us to sleep.
Yes, its true, altitude messes with your thinking capacity, whatever silly thing was done can be blamed on the mountain.

Day Five: Karanga Camp (3930m) to Barafu Camp(4670m)
Barafu is swahili for ice.

Climbing in the rain

My mind and body were exhausted. Trust me when I say I looked forward to taking a dump. Like my thoughts were"look at how light and comfortable I am, I can now live to my full potential". Whoever said it is the most refreshing activity up the mountain didn't lie. The mountain kept throwing more challenges. We ploughed through rain on a gentle then steep slope only to be welcomed by guess what, Snow Fall. We arrived at Barafu Camp mid-afternoon to comforted by warmth, soup and food amidst the snow. Nature was sending weapons of combination of the cold, altitude, fatigue, detachment from home, unshowered body against which willpower was being tested. It occurred to me that I couId be much more comfortable in warm Dar es salaam but here I was being stubborn with the mountain. My main motive was to challenge myself, so my stubborn, A-type personality dragged my mortal body along. We didn't do much that evening since we were preparing for the much anticipated Summit Night,  its not like we had the energy to.

Day Six Summit Night)
So, on day six we start a bit early, actually a lot early like 1am early. I distinctly heard the wake up call, because I didn't sleep, grave mistake. Layer upon layer I dressed up, prepping myself for the final battle(8 tops, 4 bottoms, 7 socks, 2 gloves), put on my headlamp and started the walk. 10 minutes in, I started feeling things. First I was feeling heavy so I took some layers which helped only for the next hour or so. Then came much needed sleep I had been deprived of for the entire week, the darkness simply catalysed it and made me slower, there was nothing I could do about it. Then came a group mate who was oxygen deprived thus came down, I got very emotional. Then came a bad stomach, this was tough, but I walked slowly until when I was ready to vomit and diarrhoea. You know what else comes with the altitude? Lethargy, with its companion lack of appetite which I experienced for the first time in years. Imagine the slowest zombie walking, I was slower than that. A couple of hours and a thousand breaks later I was acclimatized enough to start craving sugar, a consequence of which was apparition of all biscuits and chocolates. In my normal life, I live mostly sugar-free but hey what happens in the mountains stays in the mountains and perhaps makes it to a blog post. Sugar worked, but it can only do so much without oxygen, an atmospheric gas that is a very scarce at high altitudes. At the speed I was walking, it seemed like forever and I could already see other climbers who were already coming down. Yes, I did cry, multiple times, yes I thought of giving up, yes I hated myself for being this defeated, yes I questioned myself, yes I almost gave up. I'm forever grateful to my groupmates who said, "Don't worry, we'll wait for you", to our guide who told me I was too strong and fit to give up. Sometimes that's all you need to hear.


We finally arrived at Stella Point (5746m) in the afternoon, where we were rewarded with a beautiful view of the crater, glaciers and a Coke, how thoughtful of the porters! Honestly I wasn't thinking of going any further, as a matter of fact I took a much deserved power nap while the others had the energy to celebrate. This changed when the guide pointed at the Uhuru Peak sign post standing majestically at 5895m. It looked really close and I knew it would still be tough but my type A spirit couldn't resist the challenge. Slowly I dragged my way to the peak, this time with intention and before long, I saw her, the majestic Uhuru peak, the lady I had been anticipating to meet. That my friend is how I joined the 0.0002357% of the world population that had been up this high.

Victory

Doing all the things

 I wanted to do all sorts of shit, sing, dance, hug the signpost, take selfies, and of course I didn't do them because I only had energy for a few photos, also it is not allowed to stay in high altitudes for too long. Since we were late, we also had to rush to reach the base camp in time to descend to a lower camp (Millenium camp). The thought of warmth motivated me as porters literally dragged me down. I remember taking a 5 minute break only to nap and dream a proper dream. We ended up sleeping at Base Camp that night, and upon arrival I slept-like-a-baby. That's all I had energy for.


Day Seven: Barafu Camp to Mweka Gate
The plan was to descend straight from base camp to gate (Mweka gate). I've never had a more glorious morning. Even though all my body was screaming for rest, I was too excited to care. Slowly we descended through the desert then moorland then rainforest vegetation. We passed by Millenium and Mweka camp to find other climbers also descending.

Mweka Camp

 All was well, until the last stretch, you know when you can see civilization but it seems so far. We distracted ourselves with photosessions, it seemed like forever. Up until we saw the gate.....

All the feels!

We had done the thing!

And received certificates!

I can finally answer the question with pride, yes, I have climbed all the way to the top and survived.
It was here that I started feeling things again: hunger, thirst, cramped legs, butts and thighs, cracked nails, foul smelling body but it didn't seem to matter. I felt like I could conquer everything you threw at me (still do). We were driven back to the hotel in Moshi where we returned borrowed gear, tipped the team of guides and porters, showered (7 times for me) and celebrated our victory.


Post Climb
I had made plans to leave at 4am with a lift but of course I overslept my alarm, taking the bus instead. In Dar es salaam I intended to sleep and have a proper massage, but then my crazy brother Dominic and family made me run a marathon the very next day -Bagamoyo Historical Marathon - of which he's an organiser.

I hoped to look victorious as I shared my story but my sunburnt face had plans of its own. I intended to go write a blogpost soon afterwards, but here I am, two weeks later. I guess you see the trend here, which leads me to the lessons.

Lessons
Here are the lessons I learned in no particular order.

• Never give up. Life will happen, plans will change, you will feel defeated, but always remember how far you've come. Success will be delayed, you will feel defeated but embrace it , learn the lessons and soldier on. Living is a lot like climbing mountain, although you'll feel defeated when an 80 year old passes you, it won't matter in the long run. With the spirit, pay it forward too, don't let your friends give up. Surround yourself with people who won't let you give up. Finish what you started, just do it! That's the face of commitment.
• Be comfortable with your own voice. Even though we were always accompanied by guides, talking deprives you of climbing energy so the walks were mostly me and my thoughts. Boy, did we had a party up there, actually more like a boxing match between all the versions of me. It was fun to watch.
• Take care of your body. Although running didn't make a fast climber, it definitely gave me the confidence to cross fitness off my barriers. It gave me the confidence to say I was giving this challenge my all. Maybe, my muscles wouldn't be able to recover or I would fall sick if I didn't exercise, who knows? I simply know that I had the confidence that I need to all other projects I commit. 
• There is never the right moment for anything you want to do. Life will always happen, people will question you. Everyone I told questioned my sanity, my manager almost told me not to do it, my parents faint heartedly let me do it. Hard as it was I chose to believe in me, even when my body was also resisting. 
• Its amazing what you can accomplish when you are not distracted. I was able to finish two books and had time for more. Thanks to no internet and no social media. My official dream is to retire in a cottage somewhere in the woods.

I thought this was going to be my first and last physical challenge but believe me when I tell you that I'm already looking at my next climbing challenge. Yes, once the madness starts, it continues. With said, I hope you have a mad week and catch me on my next adventure. 👊

Travelling immaculately.

“Here we were thinking you are from France; your style is very European”, said the receptionist at the Kaisariani monastery after I revealed that I’m African, Tanzanian specifically. “Uhm, Thanks?”, not sure whether it was supposed to be a compliment.

“See, we don’t get many visitors in this monastery, you are the first African we have seen in months. Are you travelling alone?”

“Yes”

“We weren’t exactly expecting a young African girl to visit us, alone. [Laughs] Anyways, enjoy your hike”

“Thank you!”

And that my friend was how I realized that I’ve become that girl. What girl?  You ask. Let’s rewind a few steps back.

I dreamt this moment

At the beginning of the year, I had planned to do the traditional grand tour after completing my degree. No specifics, just places I hadn’t been to before. I researched at night, and reflected on my morning run. I decided to follow my fascination with Europe and perhaps Asia. I read blog after blog on how to travel cheap and bookmarked all travel sites I could find. It was time consuming but it kept me going through the tests and assignments. Having travelled before, I didn’t want to miss this opportunity so I did more planning and booking. What could possibly go wrong, right?  Unfortunately, though expected, protests happened, the semester was prolonged into my anticipated travel period, sickness happened, a breakup amongst other life happenings; not exactly the foreplay for a grand tour. Thanks to my proactive self I had solid reasons to be travelling, my papers were accepted to three conferences, which not only gave me approval from the University but also funds.

To the monastery receptionist, I may have appeared to be an eccentric African girl defying the odds but deep down I was just a messed up girl either escaping or dealing with life. Travel therapy might be cheap for actual Europeans but for the rest of us, some creative effort is required and it goes a long way. Some of these efforts include the following:

1. First things first, get money. For me, that meant working internships during holidays and part-time in the semester. Putting so much effort meant I gave lots of thought before swiping my card for anything, whether that is groceries, transport, clothing etc. It worked out really well because most of my time studying and perhaps tweeting #WinWin.

2. Give it another name. I come from a culture that doesn’t put enough importance to extra-curricular interests, especially if they are challenging or appear expensive at face value. ‘I’m going to conferences and travelling in between’ seems more like an appropriate response when asked why I was travelling. Thankfully both my conferences were in Europe, a fact that appeased the visa gods. Thanks to friends at Web Summit (won an open source scholarship) and paper reviewers at NEUREL in Belgrade and WIML in Barcelona (won a travel grant), my passport was stamped with a very long Schengen visa.

Friends I made at conferences

3. Travel cheap: Will you stay at the Hilton’s or in a backpacker’s hostel? Does the hostel have kitchen facilities to prepare quick meals? Will you take a shared or private room? Will you take the plane or the bus? The metro or Uber? These are the questions that define how much damage you will incur. I managed to get away with a very friendly budget because I lived cheap. since I would be out most of the time, I didn’t a little discomfort at the hostels. I continued my habit of preparing my own meals, which also made it incredibly cheaper. Little equipment is needed to make a sandwich, Europe is a very small continent to be moving by plane, Did I mention my student card gave me discounts and sometimes free entrance to museums and galleries?

When on top of Athens

4. Plan ahead, almost to the minute. Complimentary to the point above. When you are away and alone, and a problem hits you, it’s easier to throw money at it. A little bit of planning goes a long way. How often does the bus stop here? Are trains available at this hour of the night? Does the hotel offer complimentary Wi-Fi? You are in a new place, excited about almost everything. You will want to buy all the souvenirs and touristy things. It’s easy to fall into the trap of spontaneous splashing. I cured this craving with fridge magnets. Be responsibly spontaneous, if at all such a term exists.

5. It’s a learning experience not a vacation. A lot of people think travel is expensive because they equate travel with luxury, hence the need for expensive hotels, flights, restaurants, shopping, excursions and commercial luxuries, most of which are attainable without traveling. I believe the most important aspect of traveling is learning. Being perhaps the only time I would spend in the cities, I indulged in the history, art, geography, politics and culture of the cities through museums, galleries, walking tours, cultural events and hostel conversations with strangers.  Turns out most of these activities are cheap and fun, not to mention guarantee that you’ll be in good company.

Was it worth the effort?

Friends

I would like to say ‘I started the year ZAR 20,000 poorer’ but the more accurate description would be ‘completely broke’. And the insane part is that I actually planned for that, like I actually worked my ass to land back to square one. Yeah, it gets worse, I may have mentioned it before but I lost my phone, missed my flight, lost a couple of miscellaneous items, mostly because of the overhead that comes with planning every minute. 

One of few spontaneous moments in Berlin

Honestly speaking, as fancy as it sounds, travelling is in reality very uncomfortable. It takes a while to acclimatize to new place, that is if it’s even safe, an even longer while to have meaningful interactions with the locals and forever to have a stable routine, a luxury I couldn’t afford since I wanted to fit everything in. There were days when the need for stability and acceptance made me question all my life choices.

All things considered, I’m glad I did it. Without the goal I wouldn’t have worked ruthlessly or planned exhaustively or saved aggressively and generally grown as a person. The downside of solo travelling is that it can get stressful and lonely but the upside is you find yourself making friends who would normally be out of your reach.  It might not seem like it but most people are nice people, or at least they are not out to eat you.

These strangers didn't bite

I may or may not have enjoyed the trip but one thing for sure is that I learnt. My practical self would never find herself reading about the Athens Acropolis or the Holocaust or the Monastery of Montserrat unless they were right in front of me.  The tours might have been introductory but they are the reason my shelf is currently filled with history books and why I can engage in such conversations.

 

This marks the end of my posts of my 2 months’ solo adventure in Europe and Asia. Some might label it as unnecessary and a waste of time and money, and to a degree it was.  Travel isn’t cheap and it definitely doesn’t make you better than others, but with the right reasons, it’s a good way to spend your time and hard-earned money. It challenges you mentally, physically, financially, emotionally and socially, but in the end it redefines your limits and leaves you craving for more. Stay tuned for my next adventure. 

[Vietnam] .. How to Saigon

If you are tired of reading about Europe here, then you are in for a treat. As much as I enjoyed my solo trip across Europe; towards the end I was so fatigued that all I wanted was a quiet life in a warm country. A pleasant twist of fate happened when my paper got accepted to ICMLSC 2017 making me highly eligible for a Vietnamese visa.

I thought I was heading to Ho Chi Minh city until when in the plane the lady next to me asked if I would be in Saigon for the Lunar New Year. That my friend, was how I learnt that Saigoners didn’t exactly like to be called Saigoners either disliked the name or the revolutionary leader Ho Chi Minh. Either way the 1976 change of names didn’t affect their language much.

Ho Chi Minh, the person

Ho Chi Minh and  an impostor

On stepping out of the airport, I had to acclimatize to lots of things, the warm weather, the mosquitoes, the conversion rate to Vietnamese dong, the language and not-so-familiar sight of gazillion motorbikes. I have to admit that I failed miserably on the last two. I don’t mind the language bit since I’m lazy with languages but I do mind the latter. It was fun to watch the motorbikes from inside the bus until I reached my stop and had to cross the road with heavy luggage. See, I have witnessed extremely brutal motorbike accidents in Tanzania, so this scenario of so many motor bikers who didn’t seem to notice the traffic lights just compounded my fears. I had solved lots of challenges in the past but they didn’t prepare me for this I had no option but to dive in and hire a bike, a decision which at the time felt like signing up for death. Obviously I didn’t die, but I closed my eyes through most of it, because, boys and girls, road action is only fun when watched from a screen.

Motorbikes and one car

After that very memorable entrance, I proudly presented my paper at the conference then switched back to explorer mode.

I have written things .

Saigon post office

Pieces of South Africa

Pieces of France

Saigon Opera House

Every day I would wake up to a 5am run to find a crowd sweating it out at the Le Van Tam park in whatever way they are comfortable with. Many walk/run along the perimeter, some play badminton, some do muscle work on the outdoor gym, some simply stretch but the most eye-catching crowd will be dancing to energetic Vietnamese songs. 

Le Van Tam park by day

The park is a different world by day

While the rest of the world is looking for gym motivation, the Vietnamese, old and young, big and small, simply start their day by playing. This morning routine is very important to them that they have a park every few kilometers in the city. Their commitment to a healthy lifestyle doesn’t stop at working out. The Vietnamese Cuisine is well known for filling up on vegetables and soup and many locals eat these dishes affordably at food stalls, typically owned and operated by women.

A woman at the womnen's museum

Speaking of women, it’s easy to assume that feminism is not popular in this third world country and you will very wrong. I visited the Museum of Southern Vietnamese women only to appreciate the progress our Asian fellows have made. Women have been actively contributing to all sorts of fields; textile, business, politics, military, mill grinding, motorbike riding, you name it. Feminism is embraced all the way to the Ao Dai, their traditional dress that has creatively evolved a lot over the years.

Pretty things I saw at the museum

The Ao Dai

Another Ao Dai

After sweat breaking and showering, they of course commute to work/school and for most people this is done with no other machine than the motorbike. Only very few super rich people can afford cars; a second hand Japanese car might sound affordable at first but the government imposes tax,100% of its value, this compounded by the high fuel costs keeps the car further out of reach. The fact that cars are not affordable gives many an excuse to spoil themselves with a second fancy motorbike for social commuting. This explains why there are 7.4 million bikes for 8.5 million residents of the city.

Motorbikes and one car

 The conscious effort to reduce cars might be helping with congestion and commute time but it doesn’t assist much with air pollution. The motorbikes’ exhaust, the buzz of the city, fused with the heat and humidity has Saigoners craving for fresh air on the weekends. They often find themselves 200 km away from the city on the lovely plains of Mekong Delta. 

Houseboats at Cai Be floating market

When in the Delta.

Muddy banks of Mekong river

Life on the Delta is as natural as it gets. Here, farmers eat from the ground, follow the sun and cherish the rain. They plant in the wet season and trade in the dry season. Between May and October, they will be growing all sorts of crops, mostly rice and in the second half of the year they carry their produce in their houseboats to the market. In addition to farming other activities that flourish include handcraft, processing rice to wine, pop rice (rice popcorn) etc, making and recycling literally everything. 

Creative works at the Delta

Rice paper in the making

Rice husks recycled as fuel

Rice wine in the making

Made with coconut shells

In a nutshell, delta life is filled with creative work, hammocking, and bike riding in between. Look no further for high life expectancy.

Some take entertainment a step further by going all the way to the Cambodia border to gamble. Although there are casinos in the city, only foreigners are allowed to gamble as the law prohibits Vietnamese citizens from gambling within the country. When not appreciating nature, Saigoners relax city style by shopping and massaging. Of all the shopping centres, Bitexco Financial Towers I was mostly impressed with the Bitexco Financial Towers. Named one coolest skyscrapers in the world, it harbours not only most of the multinational companies in Vietnam but the best view of the city embraced by the Saigon river.

Views from the tour

Saigon river from the tower

The tower from the bottom

The tower from afar

When it comes to religion most (about 73% ) Vietnamese do not belong to any organized religion although you will find shrines in almost every house or establishment. These are shrines to their ancestors and nature gods, which is an integral part of the Vietnamese Folk religion. This religion is not a formal religion but an umbrella for the Buddhist, Taoist and Confucian values that the Vietnamese uphold. There is one religion that combines these beliefs formally and it is called Caodaism. Followed by 4.8% of the population, this religion developed in Vietnam about a century ago.

Vietnamese folk shrines

The term Caodaism stems from the title of the highest deity: Cao Đài Tiên Ông Đại Bồ Tát Ma Ha Tát The title can be broken to trace its three parent religions; Cao Đài means High Tower/Palace in Confucianism, Tiên Ông means lowest rank in Taoism and Đại Bồ Tát Ma Ha Tát means the lowest rank in Buddhism. Combines together, the essence of Caodaism is unification of the world religions and humility of God as the lowest divinity. Manifestation of the parent religions of the world extend beyond the title to the colors, emblem and moral compass. The emblem consists of the Bowl Charity for Buddhist Compassion, feather duster for Taoist purification and Spring and Autumn Annals for Confucian virtue and love.

Buddhist temple

The Hindu Temple (not many worshippers hence its hardly maintained)

Turtles at the Jade Emperor Pagoda

Taoist practise

Look! I made a friend

 I had been to Taoist and Buddhist temples so I was expecting a Caodaist temple to be similar; boy was I wrong. 

colors!

No its not a Hindu temple

The Divine Eye

Neither is it a chinese temple

The prayer

Pretty things

Who am I to resist?

Colors embraced by the monks

Who am I to resist the photo.

The garden

A Caodaist wedding

And more colors!

Temple front view

I visited the biggest Caodaist temple at the Holy See curious to learn about the religion but ended being distracted by its beauty. The colors and gardens played a big role in that. The temple is conspicuously decorated with three colors yellow Buddhism, blue for Taoism, and red for Confucianism. A peculiar eye known as the Divine Eye can be seen at many spots, together with the emblem. It is strategically placed to remind believers that God watches over everything. I was also fortunate to witness one of their 4 daily prayers which happen every 6 hours starting from 06:00 am. This too was beautiful to watch; women seated on the right, men on the left, being led in ruminative songs and prayers by monks dressed in the three colors. Turns my timing was perfect since in the following week, the last week of the Lunar year, there would be no prayers since they believe the gods stop their duties to convene for closing the year.

And then I saw Victor Hugo

What I didn’t expect to see at the temple was a painting of Victor Hugo, a French writer I had just learned about in Paris. I learnt that he is one of three Venerable saints consisting of him, the Chinese revolutionary Sun Yat Sen and the Vietnamese poet Trạng Trình Nguyễn Bỉnh Khiêm. Although the religion came later, Victor Hugo is revered since he championed Spiritism in Europe, which is the core the Third Era Caodaists are patiently awaiting. I’m still looking for that one universal religion that is independent of geography, traditions and customs but Caodaism comes close.

Before this trip, my vision of Vietnam was the country that defeated the US in the Vietnam war. I was therefore very curious to learn the history of the country and the war. These curiosities led me to the Reunification palace, Ho Chi Minh museum, Museum of art and Cu Chi tunnels.

Ho Chi Minh , 'the father of the nation'

Vietnam national flower

At the Museum of art complex

In the palace

Being in the city the reunification palace was my first stop. Although now a museum, the palace marked the end of the Vietnam war on 30^th April 1975 when the North Vietnamese Army crushed its gates forcing the Southern Vietnamese president to surrender. Beside it symbolic importance, its architecture is equally as appealing. Dating as far back as 1858 during the French colonial era, the Palace was built to be the ruler’s dwelling and working place. Its façade was designed by Ndo Viet Thu, the first Vietnamese architect to have Prix de Rome, modeled after the Chinese good luck character.

The Chinese character for 'good luck'

The Palace facade (Do you see the character above?)

If it weren’t for the Notre Dame Cathedral, I wouldn’t know that Vietnam was once a French Colony. There aren’t many French speakers in the country and the 0.7% who do are old, thanks to the First Indochina war of 1945 that erased France from Vietnamese books. Through the war they were hoping to kick France out and reunite North and South Vietnam but that was too much to ask in one war. They did remove colonizers but only symbolically because a puppet capitalist government was placed in South Vietnam led by Ngo Dinh Diem while the much revered Ho Chi Minh, headed the North in Communism.  

The Notre Dame Cathedral

It is a lie that the Cold War was never physically fought because it happened in Vietnam under the disguise of the Second Indochina war or in more familiar terms, the Vietnam war for 20 years from 1975. It will be recorded as a war between North Vietnam and South Vietnam but it was the supporting parties that had much more at stake.  Communist North Vietnam was supported by the Soviet Union and China while the South was supported by the US and Australia. While the North Vietnamese army led a conventional battle, the Viet Cong guerillas in the South redefined what it means to have military advantage.

The guerillas fought in the Cu Chi tunnels among other barricks and they didn’t much in the way of material weapons. Surrounded by US forces, it was difficult to get weapons from Russia, a problem they creatively solved with recycling.

How weapons were recycled

Recycling

Shoes from recycled material

 The Americans were ignorantly aiding their enemies whenever they blasted bombs on them.  Although the Vietnamese are small, that didn’t pose a problem since no physical combat was required. They used their size advantage to make the tunnels very tiny, automatically disqualifying the Americans from entering. There were 3 levels of tunnels at 3m, 6m and 10m depth. Americans tried bombing them but it only destroyed the first layer. When the Americans got frustrated at not being able to spot and annihilate the tunnels, they called other agents to their aid. When they splashed water, it only helped in cooling off the chambers, when they sprayed poisonous gas, the guerillas were well prepared simply closed off some chambers. 

Who am I to resist such photos?

Actual tunnel

Widened tunnel for tourists

A wide version of the tunnels

You’d think that snakes would work against them, but the guerillas were so grateful for this protein source. The guerillas’ knowledge of the land also gave them advantage when setting booby traps that were very effective against machines, bombs and computers of the enemy. As a matter of fact, the guerillas used every resource they had, every capable person fought, irrespective of their gender or age. Those who couldn’t fight, found use in supporting through producing food, recycling weapons, setting traps among others. I suspect, when you have a clear, common goal, everything falls into place. The next time you feel paralyzed by the hills you have to conquer, think of the guerillas and conquer them.

The soldier got an admirer

Why resist such photos?

Brutal booby trap

Although the Vietnamese won the war, like any other war, it was the innocent ones who suffered. 1.5 million people died leaving behind traumatized families and a lot more injured. Of these, one Phan Thi Kim Phuc , a little 9 years old girl at the time, suffered a Napalm attack from the South Vietnamese army. We know her since the act was captured in a Pulitzer winning photograph, leaving her legacy as the Napalm girl.

 

The famous Napalm photo

On my first trip to Asia I felt very homesick since the Japanese can be hard to crack. The feeling was significantly reduced in Vietnam, where the people were welcoming and eager to talk to foreigners. I also have to mention that they are not used to seeing African visitors, so I got a lot celebrity-style attention, not that I’m complaining .. ;).  I was also not immune to tourist traps, but being from Tanzania I was well prepared when a shoe shiner wanted to charge me a million dong ($50)for the service. All in all, it was definitely an educational experience that left me craving for more.