Riding the bike down the high, beautiful extending countryside to the right, picturesque green mountain to my left, I kept my attention focused on avoiding crossing the yellow line. Crossing such a yellow line at the wrong time could mean an unfortunate meeting with a “luxury” bus speeding down the highway at 120 km an hour, braking for no man, woman or animal. Riding a bicycle is a dangerous activity, but like everything from sampling the food to taking a night time stroll, Africa is fraught with risk. It is part of life here, and only when my literary dramatic side takes over do I ever think to contemplate just how many ways there are to die here. Granted, this all comes to my mind just one day before I climb kili, a mountain which claims about 15 lives every year. Taking the six day climb, with adequate clothes, I am more at risk of a bruised ego than anything else. Maybe I should bring the voice recorder just to catch all the huffing and puffing. Nous retournons a nos moutons, however, the bicycle and I were following behind one former school mate of mine from the seminary in Berkeley named Daniel Hendrikson. Daniel is a newly ordained young priest from the Wisconsin province. I did not see Daniel often when I was at Berkeley, although he was a bit of a household celebrity amongst my female roommates, but when on a continent where your friends are few, you tend to be a little more liberal with your acquaintances. Lucky for me, however, for I was in for a treat as I got invited to spend just 2 days with him before he made his way to Nairobi for the World Social forum. Already tempted by the great mountain passing it on a bus on the way down to Morogoro, Daniel further encouraged me to climb the mountain.

While my time at the novitiate was relaxing, it was wonderful being in a pace of life more familiar to my American ways. The speed of it prepared me for the next two weeks which will include climbing kili, heading to Dar, going to zar, maybe getting an interview in and finally heading to Ethiopia. Welcome back to the life of the traveler my packed bags say to me. Daniel was the picture of Jesuit hospitality as he showed me around town good restaurants, invited me to attend classes, took me bike riding and even shared beers as we shared our own personal African stories.

I also enjoyed the company of his friend Stephanie, who left on a moments notice to fill a language position at the philosophy institute there. I also met Bart. Bart is an Oregon Province Jesuit who has been in Africa for nearly 17 years.

Visiting a swank hotel in morogoro named the acropolis for some scotch, Daniel couldn’t help but referencing the poisonwood bible and the one glamorous spoiled sister who ends up running a hotel in Congo. Enjoying fine scotch and a brownie (my first since getting here) at this swank place with dead animals or artist depictions of dead animals throughout the place I got a feel for life in the colonies.

Daniel also offered me, to enable my literary travels, the snows of Kilimanjaro by hemingway.

Now as I prepare to ascend the mountain, fear has certainly struck my heart. Am I fit enough? Common sense would say that I should be quite fit given that I have to walk every day. A lack of adequate hiking opportunities however and many hours on busses might have sent my muscles into atrophy. I almost envy those travelers arriving directly by plane from America or Europe. No parasites or worms have mined there way into there body. Living here at times can make you forgot what it feels like to be in full form and complete health. I’ve even taken to talking to my body at times as if it were a separate entity. I tell it that it knows how to deal with such problems and to deal with them quickly and quietly. Sounds crazy, but it works, even if it sometimes has dangerous consequences later.

Perhaps climbing a mountain shouldn’t be something you do on a whim…. I don’t need to worry you with my own worries however. Keep me in your thoughts and prayers as I ascend this mountain. Anyways, love you all!