-Chad A. Dokken
1.31.2011
Dala Dala
Dala Dala Bills Yall
The Dala Dala. Where do I began. Its a pedophile van. Covered in Rasta regalia that taxis you across Arusha. Today I rode in a Dala Dala. First there were 10 people. Then more entered. And before you know it you have someone sitting on your lap, people standing up, and people out the window. We are Muzungos, white men, and you never forget it. Especially when there are 19 people saying the word in a tiny car. I'll keep more blogs coming, short or long, as long as the wifi works for me. In Tanzania the government shuts off the electrify everyday in Arusha because they voted for the opposition party. T.I.A This is Africa.
- Chad
The Dala Dala. Where do I began. Its a pedophile van. Covered in Rasta regalia that taxis you across Arusha. Today I rode in a Dala Dala. First there were 10 people. Then more entered. And before you know it you have someone sitting on your lap, people standing up, and people out the window. We are Muzungos, white men, and you never forget it. Especially when there are 19 people saying the word in a tiny car. I'll keep more blogs coming, short or long, as long as the wifi works for me. In Tanzania the government shuts off the electrify everyday in Arusha because they voted for the opposition party. T.I.A This is Africa.
- Chad
Living Water Orphanage
Living Water Orphanage.
This is way over due. One of the most satisfying times of my life and it has taken me this long to blog about it. Im sorry. So where do I begin, either David pulling up to my hotel blasting a scratched Eminem album or doing the airplane with the kids. I arrived to the house at Four instead of Two, and soon came to know this delay in scheduled timing as African Time. The volunteers house is owned by the Kimaro family. A traditional, pleasant, and unconditionally caring family that touches anyone they meet. Mama the head of the household was the brain behind this selfless project and her children David, Christian, Hans, and Walter are in it for the long haul. We pulled up, got situated, and David took me up the hill to the orphanage, which is relatively half the distance up the M. The twenty children who call the orphanage home are amazing. Constantly smiling and always full of energy. The first day I taught them Capture the Flag and was left with the most fulfilling feeling I have had in some time. The second day I traveled to Yakini. The other half of the Kimaro families project. Yakini is situated twenty miles from the orphanage and schools 230 students. Unlike the orphanage not all of the children board. But like the orphanage all of the children are bright. Its amazing to see so many children at once. And like Lazoro, the child sponsored by a good friend, there are so many in need. My only issue would be selecting a child to sponsor when I have met all of them. And the thought of how the others would feel. If I make my first million I will have no problem sponsoring them all. We left Yakini to go pickup two new volunteers from Germany at a local bus station. They had just endured the 7 hour bus ride from Nairobi. When tourists arrive by bus they are swarmed. And although i have experience this first hand it was interesting watching it happen to others instead of myself. A seven foot Rasta from the Masai tribe offers Marijuana. His friend from Nigeria hands out business cards to a Tanzanite dealer. The guy with the billy club picks up the slack and catches the tourists missed. To my surprise the girls got out unscathed. Because earlier I had a run in with Rasta Masai as well. I went to purchase a beer for David and I as we waited in the hot sun of the bus stop and because I have been listening to music often I make sure to watch my shadow. So in other words it was easy to see the shadow of a 7 foot man with hug dreads following me. Katerina, a volunteer I work with had got mugged and had her camera stolen. Ive been on guard, feeling the pulse of situations, and ready to protect whats mine. So when I saw his shadow I double backed just to see him smiling and ready to assist. He didn't want to hurt me, just to get some money under the table for leading me to a purchase. He failed by taking me to a illegal banana liquor distillery. It was disgusting. So after we brought the girls home we had some dinner of traditional Unagi (a thick sticky substance that looks like grits but has the consistency of dough) and went to bed.
- Chad
This is way over due. One of the most satisfying times of my life and it has taken me this long to blog about it. Im sorry. So where do I begin, either David pulling up to my hotel blasting a scratched Eminem album or doing the airplane with the kids. I arrived to the house at Four instead of Two, and soon came to know this delay in scheduled timing as African Time. The volunteers house is owned by the Kimaro family. A traditional, pleasant, and unconditionally caring family that touches anyone they meet. Mama the head of the household was the brain behind this selfless project and her children David, Christian, Hans, and Walter are in it for the long haul. We pulled up, got situated, and David took me up the hill to the orphanage, which is relatively half the distance up the M. The twenty children who call the orphanage home are amazing. Constantly smiling and always full of energy. The first day I taught them Capture the Flag and was left with the most fulfilling feeling I have had in some time. The second day I traveled to Yakini. The other half of the Kimaro families project. Yakini is situated twenty miles from the orphanage and schools 230 students. Unlike the orphanage not all of the children board. But like the orphanage all of the children are bright. Its amazing to see so many children at once. And like Lazoro, the child sponsored by a good friend, there are so many in need. My only issue would be selecting a child to sponsor when I have met all of them. And the thought of how the others would feel. If I make my first million I will have no problem sponsoring them all. We left Yakini to go pickup two new volunteers from Germany at a local bus station. They had just endured the 7 hour bus ride from Nairobi. When tourists arrive by bus they are swarmed. And although i have experience this first hand it was interesting watching it happen to others instead of myself. A seven foot Rasta from the Masai tribe offers Marijuana. His friend from Nigeria hands out business cards to a Tanzanite dealer. The guy with the billy club picks up the slack and catches the tourists missed. To my surprise the girls got out unscathed. Because earlier I had a run in with Rasta Masai as well. I went to purchase a beer for David and I as we waited in the hot sun of the bus stop and because I have been listening to music often I make sure to watch my shadow. So in other words it was easy to see the shadow of a 7 foot man with hug dreads following me. Katerina, a volunteer I work with had got mugged and had her camera stolen. Ive been on guard, feeling the pulse of situations, and ready to protect whats mine. So when I saw his shadow I double backed just to see him smiling and ready to assist. He didn't want to hurt me, just to get some money under the table for leading me to a purchase. He failed by taking me to a illegal banana liquor distillery. It was disgusting. So after we brought the girls home we had some dinner of traditional Unagi (a thick sticky substance that looks like grits but has the consistency of dough) and went to bed.
- Chad
1.29.2011
Me and the kids
Sorry for the delay in blogs. There is not Internet and I'm am at a cafe right now. I have more on the way. With pictures. Chelsea I met Zoro today he say he misses you.
- Chad
- Chad
It's the little things
Its the little things.
Its 5am in Tanzania. Everyone, except for me, are sleeping. Im wide awake sitting on my bed draped by mosquito netting. I thought that the games of capture the flag and jump rope from yesterday would have worn me out enough to sleep well, but sadly that wasn't the case. Under the one, bright, florescent light I sit ready for the day to begin. Ready for others to catch-up and wake-up to my extent so I can go see the orphans. The morning is interesting. Have you ever noticed that no matter what time you wake-up, whether it be 4am or 10am, if you stay up for longer than thirty minutes you feel those breakfast hunger pains. It must be your system waking up like a computer continuing a download after being woken from hibernate. Well long story short I had those hunger pains. I had run out of Honey Crisp Apples. I had run out of carrots. I forgot to put the pizza from the hotel in the orphanage fridge. I though I was screwed, stuck with only protein shake mix and almonds. So after I had admitted defeat on my quest to find good food I reached my hand into the gallon-sized bag of almonds to find the big bag of Acai Berry Chocolates that I remember telling my Mom I wouldn't want. I was wrong. So in the heart of keeping you all in touch with whats going on with me, on this side of the planet I thought it only appropriate to inform you that I am a happy camper. And even though im in a mosquito infested area of Arusha Tanzania, under a deadly bright light, cutting the two hours until I can go play with Joseph and the other little ones, I am great. Thanks to the John Mayer Continuum album the protein shakes that remind me of Crossfit Bozeman, and the Acai Berry Chocolates.
-Chad A. Dokken - Nguelolo District in Arusha Tanzania - 5:43 am
Its 5am in Tanzania. Everyone, except for me, are sleeping. Im wide awake sitting on my bed draped by mosquito netting. I thought that the games of capture the flag and jump rope from yesterday would have worn me out enough to sleep well, but sadly that wasn't the case. Under the one, bright, florescent light I sit ready for the day to begin. Ready for others to catch-up and wake-up to my extent so I can go see the orphans. The morning is interesting. Have you ever noticed that no matter what time you wake-up, whether it be 4am or 10am, if you stay up for longer than thirty minutes you feel those breakfast hunger pains. It must be your system waking up like a computer continuing a download after being woken from hibernate. Well long story short I had those hunger pains. I had run out of Honey Crisp Apples. I had run out of carrots. I forgot to put the pizza from the hotel in the orphanage fridge. I though I was screwed, stuck with only protein shake mix and almonds. So after I had admitted defeat on my quest to find good food I reached my hand into the gallon-sized bag of almonds to find the big bag of Acai Berry Chocolates that I remember telling my Mom I wouldn't want. I was wrong. So in the heart of keeping you all in touch with whats going on with me, on this side of the planet I thought it only appropriate to inform you that I am a happy camper. And even though im in a mosquito infested area of Arusha Tanzania, under a deadly bright light, cutting the two hours until I can go play with Joseph and the other little ones, I am great. Thanks to the John Mayer Continuum album the protein shakes that remind me of Crossfit Bozeman, and the Acai Berry Chocolates.
-Chad A. Dokken - Nguelolo District in Arusha Tanzania - 5:43 am
Out with the old and in with the new
Out with the old and in with the new.
Today stared off different than any other day I have experienced. Other than the candle art and the double feature of the Big Lebowski (actually I think I have done that with Blake before) I met the strangest man I think I have ever met before. It started when I went to breakfast. While ordering an omelet an old man approached me. "The meats are damn good." And luckily I was already on my way to get some sausage and bacon because I had absolutely no idea what this guy had said through his barbaric Irish accent. I smiled and did what all Tanzanians do to me when they don't understand what im saying. "Yah yah." I sat down at the table they had arranged for me and Danny did the same. "Want some tea? Yah you do. Who doesn't? Pardon the African tea though. For a British colony they don't have a bloody, I say, bloody idea of what they are doing." Danny was from Ireland and was the only guest at the hotel that wasn't there for Safari or Kilimanjaro. He called himself a hunter. And as my hopes ran high to hear some big game stories I soon found out he hunted quite different animals. I found out Danny belongs to a big group of men locally called "sugar daddies". The prerequisites are as follow. 1. You have to be white. 2. You have to be above fifty. 3. You have to Have tacky safari guide garb so you look like a tourist when you go the bars. This group uses there white skin and facade to play off that they are millionaires so that they can get local African women into bed. Danny himself has three girlfriends. All Arushan. While I was eating lunch with him and Samili (the first one I met) at L'Oasis Hotel he would snuggle up next to her flirt. Lunch ended and as if I was watching cheating before my eyes, which it was, he told Samili that he was going to take me for a walk and that she should relax and take a bath. He wasn't lying about the walk but he took me to another hotel across the highway. There by the poolside was a woman. Not in a bathing suit. Not lying down tanning. But rather sitting up on the end of the lawn chair. In the usual dirt covered sandals with a blanket draped around her. Danny, this 64 year old balding Irishman went to her immediately and began apologizing. She had been waiting for him since the night before. He later told me that he went out and got drunk with some real guides and decided that he wanted to go to Samili instead of her. I love seeing people getting caught up in lies so I sat back while he pleaded his case in a terribly accented Swahili. I don't understand Swahili but I knew that the chances of "Mr. Chad Sir" being a native word were slim. He used me as an excuse. Saying he got drunk with me and after drinking some local Fire Water Gin he was too belligerent to find his way home so I let him into my hotel room. All these woman, whether they believe him or not, act like he's telling the truth because they want his money. Its really disgusting actually. Samili is 23 and is a single mother and this lady couldn't have been more than 25. And the hardest part of all is that all they get is a hotel room for awhile, that is if he wants them there, and the occasional lunch. How do I know that they don't get money? Well other than the fact that Danny told me that its better than prostitution because he decides if he helps them or not, Dannys third woman moved in with him in Ireland so unless shes a polygamist other woman don't get to share the wealth. And whether she believes it or not, she to probably acts like he's telling the truth when he says he's going to Tanzania to finish business and that he will be gone for a month. I hope shes burns his house down. Pushes his car of the the cliff I saw his house situated on when he flashed out his bragging pictures. When people think of Africans being taken advantage of they think of the Land Grab, the White mans Burden, and obviously slavery. All terrible things that are for the most part over and forgotten. But it still occurs frequently. Whether it be underpaid laborers or poor women like Samili. Its the new wrong. One things for sure, Im not giving Danny the link to my Blog.
-Chad A. Dokken
Today stared off different than any other day I have experienced. Other than the candle art and the double feature of the Big Lebowski (actually I think I have done that with Blake before) I met the strangest man I think I have ever met before. It started when I went to breakfast. While ordering an omelet an old man approached me. "The meats are damn good." And luckily I was already on my way to get some sausage and bacon because I had absolutely no idea what this guy had said through his barbaric Irish accent. I smiled and did what all Tanzanians do to me when they don't understand what im saying. "Yah yah." I sat down at the table they had arranged for me and Danny did the same. "Want some tea? Yah you do. Who doesn't? Pardon the African tea though. For a British colony they don't have a bloody, I say, bloody idea of what they are doing." Danny was from Ireland and was the only guest at the hotel that wasn't there for Safari or Kilimanjaro. He called himself a hunter. And as my hopes ran high to hear some big game stories I soon found out he hunted quite different animals. I found out Danny belongs to a big group of men locally called "sugar daddies". The prerequisites are as follow. 1. You have to be white. 2. You have to be above fifty. 3. You have to Have tacky safari guide garb so you look like a tourist when you go the bars. This group uses there white skin and facade to play off that they are millionaires so that they can get local African women into bed. Danny himself has three girlfriends. All Arushan. While I was eating lunch with him and Samili (the first one I met) at L'Oasis Hotel he would snuggle up next to her flirt. Lunch ended and as if I was watching cheating before my eyes, which it was, he told Samili that he was going to take me for a walk and that she should relax and take a bath. He wasn't lying about the walk but he took me to another hotel across the highway. There by the poolside was a woman. Not in a bathing suit. Not lying down tanning. But rather sitting up on the end of the lawn chair. In the usual dirt covered sandals with a blanket draped around her. Danny, this 64 year old balding Irishman went to her immediately and began apologizing. She had been waiting for him since the night before. He later told me that he went out and got drunk with some real guides and decided that he wanted to go to Samili instead of her. I love seeing people getting caught up in lies so I sat back while he pleaded his case in a terribly accented Swahili. I don't understand Swahili but I knew that the chances of "Mr. Chad Sir" being a native word were slim. He used me as an excuse. Saying he got drunk with me and after drinking some local Fire Water Gin he was too belligerent to find his way home so I let him into my hotel room. All these woman, whether they believe him or not, act like he's telling the truth because they want his money. Its really disgusting actually. Samili is 23 and is a single mother and this lady couldn't have been more than 25. And the hardest part of all is that all they get is a hotel room for awhile, that is if he wants them there, and the occasional lunch. How do I know that they don't get money? Well other than the fact that Danny told me that its better than prostitution because he decides if he helps them or not, Dannys third woman moved in with him in Ireland so unless shes a polygamist other woman don't get to share the wealth. And whether she believes it or not, she to probably acts like he's telling the truth when he says he's going to Tanzania to finish business and that he will be gone for a month. I hope shes burns his house down. Pushes his car of the the cliff I saw his house situated on when he flashed out his bragging pictures. When people think of Africans being taken advantage of they think of the Land Grab, the White mans Burden, and obviously slavery. All terrible things that are for the most part over and forgotten. But it still occurs frequently. Whether it be underpaid laborers or poor women like Samili. Its the new wrong. One things for sure, Im not giving Danny the link to my Blog.
-Chad A. Dokken
Out with the old and in with the new
Out with the old and in with the new.
Today stared off different than any other day I have experienced. Other than the candle art and the double feature of the Big Lebowski (actually I think I have done that with Blake before) I met the strangest man I think I have ever met before. It started when I went to breakfast. While ordering an omelet an old man approached me. "The meats are damn good." And luckily I was already on my way to get some sausage and bacon because I had absolutely no idea what this guy had said through his barbaric Irish accent. I smiled and did what all Tanzanians do to me when they don't understand what im saying. "Yah yah." I sat down at the table they had arranged for me and Danny did the same. "Want some tea? Yah you do. Who doesn't? Pardon the African tea though. For a British colony they don't have a bloody, I say, bloody idea of what they are doing." Danny was from Ireland and was the only guest at the hotel that wasn't there for Safari or Kilimanjaro. He called himself a hunter. And as my hopes ran high to hear some big game stories I soon found out he hunted quite different animals. I found out Danny belongs to a big group of men locally called "sugar daddies". The prerequisites are as follow. 1. You have to be white. 2. You have to be above fifty. 3. You have to Have tacky safari guide garb so you look like a tourist when you go the bars. This group uses there white skin and facade to play off that they are millionaires so that they can get local African women into bed. Danny himself has three girlfriends. All Arushan. While I was eating lunch with him and Samili (the first one I met) at L'Oasis Hotel he would snuggle up next to her flirt. Lunch ended and as if I was watching cheating before my eyes, which it was, he told Samili that he was going to take me for a walk and that she should relax and take a bath. He wasn't lying about the walk but he took me to another hotel across the highway. There by the poolside was a woman. Not in a bathing suit. Not lying down tanning. But rather sitting up on the end of the lawn chair. In the usual dirt covered sandals with a blanket draped around her. Danny, this 64 year old balding Irishman went to her immediately and began apologizing. She had been waiting for him since the night before. He later told me that he went out and got drunk with some real guides and decided that he wanted to go to Samili instead of her. I love seeing people getting caught up in lies so I sat back while he pleaded his case in a terribly accented Swahili. I don't understand Swahili but I knew that the chances of "Mr. Chad Sir" being a native word were slim. He used me as an excuse. Saying he got drunk with me and after drinking some local Fire Water Gin he was too belligerent to find his way home so I let him into my hotel room. All these woman, whether they believe him or not, act like he's telling the truth because they want his money. Its really disgusting actually. Samili is 23 and is a single mother and this lady couldn't have been more than 25. And the hardest part of all is that all they get is a hotel room for awhile, that is if he wants them there, and the occasional lunch. How do I know that they don't get money? Well other than the fact that Danny told me that its better than prostitution because he decides if he helps them or not, Dannys third woman moved in with him in Ireland so unless shes a polygamist other woman don't get to share the wealth. And whether she believes it or not, she to probably acts like he's telling the truth when he says he's going to Tanzania to finish business and that he will be gone for a month. I hope shes burns his house down. Pushes his car of the the cliff I saw his house situated on when he flashed out his bragging pictures. When people think of Africans being taken advantage of they think of the Land Grab, the White mans Burden, and obviously slavery. All terrible things that are for the most part over and forgotten. But it still occurs frequently. Whether it be underpaid laborers or poor women like Samili. Its the new wrong. One things for sure, Im not giving Danny the link to my Blog.
-Chad A. Dokken
- Chad
Today stared off different than any other day I have experienced. Other than the candle art and the double feature of the Big Lebowski (actually I think I have done that with Blake before) I met the strangest man I think I have ever met before. It started when I went to breakfast. While ordering an omelet an old man approached me. "The meats are damn good." And luckily I was already on my way to get some sausage and bacon because I had absolutely no idea what this guy had said through his barbaric Irish accent. I smiled and did what all Tanzanians do to me when they don't understand what im saying. "Yah yah." I sat down at the table they had arranged for me and Danny did the same. "Want some tea? Yah you do. Who doesn't? Pardon the African tea though. For a British colony they don't have a bloody, I say, bloody idea of what they are doing." Danny was from Ireland and was the only guest at the hotel that wasn't there for Safari or Kilimanjaro. He called himself a hunter. And as my hopes ran high to hear some big game stories I soon found out he hunted quite different animals. I found out Danny belongs to a big group of men locally called "sugar daddies". The prerequisites are as follow. 1. You have to be white. 2. You have to be above fifty. 3. You have to Have tacky safari guide garb so you look like a tourist when you go the bars. This group uses there white skin and facade to play off that they are millionaires so that they can get local African women into bed. Danny himself has three girlfriends. All Arushan. While I was eating lunch with him and Samili (the first one I met) at L'Oasis Hotel he would snuggle up next to her flirt. Lunch ended and as if I was watching cheating before my eyes, which it was, he told Samili that he was going to take me for a walk and that she should relax and take a bath. He wasn't lying about the walk but he took me to another hotel across the highway. There by the poolside was a woman. Not in a bathing suit. Not lying down tanning. But rather sitting up on the end of the lawn chair. In the usual dirt covered sandals with a blanket draped around her. Danny, this 64 year old balding Irishman went to her immediately and began apologizing. She had been waiting for him since the night before. He later told me that he went out and got drunk with some real guides and decided that he wanted to go to Samili instead of her. I love seeing people getting caught up in lies so I sat back while he pleaded his case in a terribly accented Swahili. I don't understand Swahili but I knew that the chances of "Mr. Chad Sir" being a native word were slim. He used me as an excuse. Saying he got drunk with me and after drinking some local Fire Water Gin he was too belligerent to find his way home so I let him into my hotel room. All these woman, whether they believe him or not, act like he's telling the truth because they want his money. Its really disgusting actually. Samili is 23 and is a single mother and this lady couldn't have been more than 25. And the hardest part of all is that all they get is a hotel room for awhile, that is if he wants them there, and the occasional lunch. How do I know that they don't get money? Well other than the fact that Danny told me that its better than prostitution because he decides if he helps them or not, Dannys third woman moved in with him in Ireland so unless shes a polygamist other woman don't get to share the wealth. And whether she believes it or not, she to probably acts like he's telling the truth when he says he's going to Tanzania to finish business and that he will be gone for a month. I hope shes burns his house down. Pushes his car of the the cliff I saw his house situated on when he flashed out his bragging pictures. When people think of Africans being taken advantage of they think of the Land Grab, the White mans Burden, and obviously slavery. All terrible things that are for the most part over and forgotten. But it still occurs frequently. Whether it be underpaid laborers or poor women like Samili. Its the new wrong. One things for sure, Im not giving Danny the link to my Blog.
-Chad A. Dokken
- Chad
1.27.2011
Hakuna Matata - The story of how i arrived
"There are two things in this world that I hate. People who are intolerant of other peoples cultures, and the Dutch." I never understood this Austin Powers quip until I boarded my plane to Kilimanjaro. Now unlike other planes of its size this plane had relitively no overhead compartment space. The reason for its construction was obviously to fit as many people on as possible and avoid multiple trips to the scarcely populated area whos only significance to the outside world was the mountain and wildlife. But nonetheless I lucked out. The entire plane was booked except for my row of three seats which were open all to myself. At least at first. During taxi, right as a was about to spread out and close my sleep deprived eyes for the long flight ahead I heard the most disgusting noise behind me. Now I realize that there are cute dutch girls but you have to use all your senses to notice that. If you just heard them you would assume that the gurgling, demanding, and annoying speach could only come from a monster so hear I was with my eyes closed thinking that a monter was behind me. The flight attendant had favored another Dutch couple who couldnt stand the idea of sitting next to an obese Scottish man. And decided to move them to my open aisle. So there I was with no sleep and it didnt seem like I would get any. They bickered and bicked and finally came to the conclusion that I should be adressed. They wanted me to leave so they could have more leg room. I wasnt going to get any sleep with them left and fell asleep next to a foreign exchange student from Indiana who, to my liking, didnt speak much.
Now I could tell you about the cluster fuck I experienced when I arrived in Kili but the real story begins when I stepped outside. All I saw was a multitude of faces. All holding signs and all pointing to you. To my frustration none of them said Explore Africa. So I did what any sensible person would do while holding 80 pounds of luggage and desperately in need for a hotel bed. "Im looking for Dokken Explore!!" By now i knew none of them spoke english and just wanted my money. Three drivers said "Yah yah im Dokken Explore." And then finally one said "Chad Dokken, come here, here yah yah man hakuna matata". Now for those who dont know. Hakuna matata is Swahili for no worries. But if I only knew what i would experience on the drive to L'Oasis I would worry. For starters our car was broken and only survived the 55km trip uphill to Arusha by a series of startegic engine kills and glides down hills only to start the engine again and fly upill. The second reason was that the Tanzanians dont use normal speed bumps to slow cars down and instead use bunker sized dips in the road (that cars could easily get stuck in) and huge mounds of dirt that force dirvers to veer off the road and then sharply turn back on. I, first hand, lived a off road formula one car race. The while listening to Tanzania jazz the whole time. Now even though we didnt turn once my driver used his turning signals often to tell oncoming drivers to move aside or slow down. A language i havnt wrapped my head around yet. When I arrived though, it was Hakuna Matata. A great dinner in the building pictured, a shower, and The Big Lebowski. I love it here. And even though i woke up at 4am, played three games of scrabble alone, and made art with my in room candle just to let time pass while i waited for breakfast I am alive with energy. The hotels road is located next to a childrens school. And during my sprints up and down the street this morning I became the town bus. Throwing little boys and girls in there best school clothes on my back and dropping them off. Unlike the Dutch everyone here is happy, generous, an loving. Until next time. Hakuna Matata and have a great day.
-Chad A. Dokken
Amsterdam (by Coldplay)
So I've made it. After a grueling flight from Seattle I have finally arrived in Amsterdam. In a continent where you are expected to pay the janitor,I am not surprised that they only allocate you an hour of free wifi. Sitting in the D terminal Starbucks I feel strangely at home. Maybe its because Im in a Starbucks or because almost everyone speaks english but either way Im relaxed. I strolled down to an Irish pub and had a pint of Guinness and some scrabbled eggs. Oddly enough i didn't meet one Irishman but rather a multitude of different Scotts all with diverse and different dialects.
In the last ten hours I have not slept once and I plan to on this next leg. But right now with an Americano in my hand Im only thinking about my next month. I opened my itinerary and discovered that after a nice night in a hotel in Arusha I head to an orphanage for 10 days. Finally I get to experience what my brother did in India, even though its on a smaller scale. Wish me luck. I will write all of you again once i arrive in Tanzania.
-Chad A. Dokken - 9:10 am - Amsterdam International
- Chad
In the last ten hours I have not slept once and I plan to on this next leg. But right now with an Americano in my hand Im only thinking about my next month. I opened my itinerary and discovered that after a nice night in a hotel in Arusha I head to an orphanage for 10 days. Finally I get to experience what my brother did in India, even though its on a smaller scale. Wish me luck. I will write all of you again once i arrive in Tanzania.
-Chad A. Dokken - 9:10 am - Amsterdam International
- Chad
1.26.2011
Bittersweet Symphony
Bittersweet Symphony
Today I woke up like I do every other day. The difference was that today I start my two day trip to reach western Africa. Saying farewell to my parents, little brother and grandma was odd. Not that it was awkward but because i've never left home for longer than 1 month the idea of 4 months hadn't registered with me like it had them. It was emotional, however, i'm going to use those excited tears as motivation to have the best 4 months a child could have. I understand my parents tears spawned from happiness and excitement for my great adventure to come. So I want to come back to my mom and tell her about horizons unimaginable, and places unfathomable. And because my mom was a great pilot I will have to "adventure" hard for me to succeed with this goal.
-Chad A. Dokken - Seattle Tacoma Airport- 10:34
Today I woke up like I do every other day. The difference was that today I start my two day trip to reach western Africa. Saying farewell to my parents, little brother and grandma was odd. Not that it was awkward but because i've never left home for longer than 1 month the idea of 4 months hadn't registered with me like it had them. It was emotional, however, i'm going to use those excited tears as motivation to have the best 4 months a child could have. I understand my parents tears spawned from happiness and excitement for my great adventure to come. So I want to come back to my mom and tell her about horizons unimaginable, and places unfathomable. And because my mom was a great pilot I will have to "adventure" hard for me to succeed with this goal.
-Chad A. Dokken - Seattle Tacoma Airport- 10:34
1.24.2011
Crossfit Africa
In Africa you have to be creative. As a avid crossfitter each day is a challenge. Yesterday I did 150 overhead walking lunges with the old 50 pound push mower and 150 elevated pushups and today... well today I had some help from the kids. Omega, the young girls in the bottom photo endured holding on as I finished my 20th push up and the five kids on my back laughed the whole way through 50 squats, reluctantly hopping back on after every rest. To my Bozeman crossfitters.
-Chad A. Dokken
-Chad A. Dokken
1.19.2011
Everyday I'm Hustling
When I think of high school the first theme that comes to mind is Procrastination. Now that I am graduated and on to better things I've found myself saying "If I did it all over again I would get my work done early". But as we all know you cant teach an old dog new tricks. This week crept up on me. First it was months, then it was weeks, now it is days. And acknowledging the fact that before I know it it will be hours, I've decided to get a move on. I have my backpack, malaria medicine, iPad, iPod, and iPhone. My hiking boots for Kilimanjaro, water bottle, and water purifier. And a plethora of other useful and necessary items to survive backpacking for four months. But as I referenced to before I feel as if I have Procrastinated. The list gets longer everyday and the chance that my duffle may not reach Tanzania when I do has caused me to second guess my packing arrangements and revaluate what I need in my carry-on if all goes astray. But even though things are closing in and troubleshooting is occurring I am relaxed as ever. I accept that I will do the best I can on this trip and to stress now is... useless. Im comfortable with this "baptism by fire", diving into a situation before I feel it out. Thanks to my parents, this is for you dad and mom, my traveling skills are at a level most 17 year olds cant boast. The trips my brothers and I have taken, conquering all continents except Antarctica, were only possible through my parents hard work and desire to broaden our horizons. So thank you. Mom this trip is going to be a memory forever. Dad this year is going to be the fundamental reason for me excelling at Daniels Business school. I'm excited. I'm thrilled to have four months of adventure. And have stories for the future to come. Ill keep this blog posted as often as I can, whether it be a paragraph or an epic, and all of you out there reading will know whats going on. So until my trip starts and I get Wifi in the Seattle Airport, Goodbye.
-Chad A. Dokken
1.17.2011
Friends backpacking
Weston Connecticut was not made for outdoorsmen. The curling roads neither wander around mountains nor avoid rivers but rather border the vast acres of mansions. Why would someone go backpacking if they could go to Stratton for the mountains? Or fish when the had Peters market for fresh produce? Little do they know its not a question of necessity but the power that nature can wield over man. This force is part of everyday life in Montana and everyday i'ved lived here it has grown within me. Whether its winter, summer, or spring you will find me outside. Im a fisherman, a snowboarder, and a devote backpacker. Experiencing new things, seeing new stars, and hearing new sounds is exhilerating. And i think thats why this new backpacking adventure is perfect. I have tackled plenty of wild terrain but backpacking for three months in a urban enviorment is truely different. A new continent instead of a new state. New languages instead of new species. In the past i have backpacked with friends and family but now my goal is to meet friends and make family. Wish me luck. And thanks for reading.
-Chad A. Dokken
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