BUSTANI YA MAAJABU WEBLOG

The start of the day was cloudy. Zanzibar rarely has good news. Same today. The phone stubbornly woke us up with constant ringing. After a long two minutes of trying to ignore it, I got up to counter Mussa's message. With the words "We have a problem in the bustani" this May day began.
Again we were robbed. This time the switch for the pump. What a shit. I extend the list to everything that has been lost lately. I'm worried about my computer, the cinema projector, the few things I have. Is it now? Does the garden have to become a fortress now? I never wanted it, I always resisted it. But to do it differently than others, I increasingly lack the strength and the imagination.
Later on, Abui also called to see if I knew the strange noise the car was making. "Man no! Abui don't pretend that the car problems you cause come from before! Solve the problems yourself that you create for me, which I have to pay for anyway, that's the deal, that's why you have the car on average two months in Year."
After all, I've now learned to keep the worries away from me when I'm not there and can't solve them. And here in Moshi we can focus on nicer, more exciting things.
We are now driving to the Umbwe Gate area at the foot of Kilimanjaro for the fourth time in the 10 days I have been here. We are slowly becoming at home with the surroundings. We have already found our "favorite restaurant". Fish and casava with delicious tomato chili dip. Actually very pleasant from the local locations, except for the cheeky chickens and ducks, who confidently use every chance to get delicious proteins.
There are already people we recognize and others who recognize us. Already on the first visit we got to know two babus, seasoned men, who have taken us to our hearts and who always welcome us with a warm smile, so that we stay at least briefly with them every time we are in the area. I have great admiration for their skills as smallholders. They mainly grow vanilla and have huge avocado trees. The entire garden is a permaculture approach without the term permaculture being important to the men. It is simply their way of life that they have found for themselves in order to survive in the long term.
It is a paradise that investors hardly focus on and I am already afraid of the inevitable changes that the future will bring, of which I am automatically a part just by being there.

I dragged myself out of bed at 4 a.m. so I could take care of the baby chickens and the incubator in time.
Finishing touches on the houses and garden. Time is running out to reach the ferry in time. Want to drive the car. Battery too weak to start. Now find out what the thieves stole in each case. The battery charger. (The thief story starts way before and ends way later... I'll write it separately as one story) Katrin was thankfully willing to drive over to give me a jump start. Too late for the second ferry, so it was just annoying that it took over an hour, ending with a complete battery removal, before the car was running again.
Off to Stone Town. Not enough gas. So refuel. Conversation with my mum, conversation with my wife, who explained to me that Abui should be sent to buy a ticket. I say I'll do that and I'm on the phone with her right now. She ends the conversation abruptly and I ask Abui to buy me a ticket.
I arrive in Stonetown. I want to withdraw money from the ATM, at least that works, the first one that day. I meet Abui, who I give most of the money to. Change new battery and oil. The car is a bottomless pit. Especially here in Tanzania, such a vehicle consumes two to four times the average income. Boarding the ferry works surprisingly well. Brief excitement at passport control, I remain calm, then I am recognized as a residence owner without proof and waved through. Absolutely unthinkable in Germany. The ferry ride is extremely rough. I just keep thinking that the last time we had to take the third ferry we were only able to catch the train because it was hours late. Whether it was the sea, strong tail wind, in any case it was around 7:25 when I got off the ferry in Dar es salam. Some hope drove me to hurry, was outside within a few minutes (it took me an hour for that part), grabbed a motorized taxi and in no time at all we were at the train station. The train was still there. The ticket counters had already closed and I was referred to the conductor. It is not always clear who is responsible for what, but with the East African Hakuna matata mentality everything was signaled to me as ok for the first time and I was happy to have caught the train. phew Later, actually after 6 hours of train travel, I was told that there is a 100% surcharge for almost buying a ticket on the train.
However, the conductor on the train was not quite confident in our conversation. So I insisted on getting on the train without making any mistakes on my part. I was at the ticket counter who referred me to the conductor who I spoke to before departure and who replied "Hakuna matata, just relex".
I followed the recommendation until Moshi. I handed the train attendant the 40,000 TSH and said with a smile that there was no more and I didn't have any more. I didn't hear anything until Moshi. It didn't bother me that I didn't get a ticket. The bodaboda driver from Estella was there quickly and less than half an hour later I was in the arms and lap of my beloved wife.

May is here. Today on Sunday Estella wished to go to Uzi Island. I wanted to give the boys their chores first, but Prosper has already decided not to be there for the garden anymore. He went to Stonetown to do something else. I'm disappointed that there isn't really any connection anymore. I'm still convinced that he has nothing to do with the thefts at Vlada's, but Vlada's accusations have obviously finished him off and there is no longer any connection to the garden. But that's not the topic of the day. I want to have a nice last day with Estella before she leaves!
She packs the remaining things in the suitcase for tomorrow, I plant a few more shoots in the garden until we leave at around 1 p.m.
We drive off in a good mood, meet Prosper on the way, whom I can at least assign a small task to, buy some provisions, then we're on our way. We have a small damper when I drive over a gap due to careless driving. After a few minutes of silence, our conversations, which I love very much, resumed. Passing Jozani, in the big roundabout take the first left, passing the small police station. A small car pushed, but was very reluctant to overtake me. After almost a kilometer and I was already under 10 km/h, he managed the overtaking maneuver with his horn, which was probably an expression of his relief. I like the track very much. It's not yet the modern Zanzibar with unplastered walls where the plastic waste collects, it's the dreamy Zanzibar where the village communities go about their centuries-old everyday life largely intact. But here, too, progress is leaving more and more traces year after year. But in Uzi Island, the clock actually seems to tick much slower. This is mainly due to the remoteness and the area cut off by the tides at daily intervals, which we also experienced today. In my previous visits to this part of Zanzibar I always came to the beginning of the low tide and after three four hours I was on my way back. Today was different. Between Kapwani and Uzi is a road carved out of coral stone through the middle of the mangroves. A uniqueness on the island which for me is one of the main attractions of the island. At high tide, the strait disappears entirely into the Pacific Ocean. And today we were in the streets at the beginning of the tide. Pedestrians warned us that if we went over there we wouldn't come back. The last day before the end of Ramadan, hardly anything in the stomach and only equipped with a bag of peanuts, the return was worth considering. But no! Estella had wished for this even before arriving in Zanzibar. Not a nice feeling. However, it was also a really queasy feeling to see the road in front of us disappearing into the floods. It was already ankle deep and the saving Uzi was not in sight. Should we have turned back? Not too far left not too far right where the corals are still knife sharp and the hoops slash, which happened to me the first time I visited the tide island. The water flowed like in a creek from right to left where I assumed the road and the water had already reached the underbody of the car. Below the surface of the water I could now see areas of concrete marking the road and after two more bends I could see the rise of Uzi. Another 200 meters and we were out of the water on the safe bank. A look back presented us with a submerged mangrove forest. There was no trace of the road, only a canal gave an idea of where we had just driven. Now we were stuck on Uzi for at least 5 hours.
But it wasn't the feeling of being cut off and not being back in time. It was the feeling of having five hours in one place with my dearest wife and being able to enjoy the time in peace.
Right at the beginning when looking back, as so often, there are tourist guides to whom I rarely react. When he noticed that, he spoke to Estella through my window over me into the conversation: Sister, I'll show you the island. Surprised, I replied: Mimi si dada yako! - I'm not your sister. Which led to laughter from the other people standing around. point for me. I'm tired of the lack of distance and clumsiness of the Zanzibaris towards tourists and it also makes me angry. But expressing that is useless. As such, I'm always looking for answers that will make people around laugh. That brings me respect and the penetrant lets go of me. And most importantly I feel good.
One of the two boys we took along the Coral Strait showed us Issaka's house. Estella really wanted to be with this man. She was with him and a tourist group on a mangrove and snorkeling tour a long time ago and wanted to see how business was going.
A pleasant surprise for me. I got to know one of the brightest Zanzibaris whose interests coincided with mine. If I had someone like that in Kizimkazi, the garden and the village would be a great deal closer to paradise.
Estella had already gone ahead while the car tried to keep me busy. I closed the remote car lock went to Issaka's house and the car sounded an alarm. I'm back car to car. The game did it five times. Already I thought that it had gotten a salt water. There back and again. I finally found the problem. Our passenger had closed the back door only too hesitantly. I'm not used to that from Zanzibaris. Finally I could introduce myself to Isak, who greeted me with a welcoming smile.
With energy and enthusiasm he showed us his non-running biogas pilot plant which he had built in cooperation with a German. He talked about his community work, especially the water project, in which pipes brought water from the well tank to the houses. "Do not follow the water, let the water follow you!" His current project is the development of the village school. Building, school garden and interaction with partner schools for a fruitful exchange. I was excited to see how he started and the multitude of contacts that came about and he started to tell:
It started when he made a first video about the biogas plant and uploaded it to youtube. After a few months, Deutsche Welle Tanzania became aware of it and invited him to an interview. He was then offered a small series of radio shows which he enjoyed doing. The programs later reached sponsors, including a school in Germany. Together they are planning their first student exchange in two months.
He guided us through the village and showed us some businesses like the beehives hanging in a huge baobab and then down to the beach. Estella and I had a few hours there because the way back was cut off by the flood. We could only put up with the fact of no food as it was the last day of Ramadan to stay on the island. The time brought peace and serenity so that we could stroll through the wild peninsula without time pressure and enjoy nature. Ancient mango trees, smaller banana plantations, vegetable beds, birds. The village is the only one on the island. There is no bar, no restaurant or shop. It seems that people have been given a few more decades until modernity changes everything here too. Almost every house already has electricity and satellite dishes.
As the sun was setting over the sea, Issaka invited us for some food and tea to break the fast. The greatest joy for Estella and Isaaka was to drizzle a Zanzibar variant of Oebersdrop into the tea. I shivered but the two enjoyed the tea. Any cold virus will be killed by it. I just thought, probably every sense of taste too. After the fun we said goodbye to his family. Issaka gave me a couple of laminated DINA4 advertising cards for his mangrove kayak tours and led us to the edge of the still flooded coral stone road. The water was still there and we waited and watched the water recede more and more.
Issaka's eyes were fixed on the sky. He really wanted to make out the moon. While he had already learned via the internet that the moon had been sighted in Oman, it did not appear in the Zanzibar night sky. His phone rang constantly asking if he had already seen the moon. Seeing the moon is essential to completing Ramadan. The time window closed after an hour. Ramadan has been extended by one day in Zanzibar.
The road was now passable and we drove off. Initially through ankle-deep water, but after 300 meters the path was dry. Issaka accompanied us to the first oncoming car, which he then switched to. It was a warm goodbye and we vowed to keep in touch. Through the evening darkness we drove back to Kizimkazi. It was too late for the soup we had hoped for in our home village, but that wasn't a problem.
It was a wonderful day that I was able to experience with my beloved wife.

Today it is clear that Estella will drive up to Moshi on Monday. The last time was super exciting but we were deeply united together. I think that the short farewell is not a bigger thing, but for my love it is. Maybe she already suspects that it will be longer than planned. We didn't come much out of the garden. ...

Once again we didn't make it to Stonetown. Got up late and Estella has her web seminar at 4am. We wouldn't be back in time.
So the planned day became unplanned. Over morning coffee we discussed the strategy of how to deal with the bird reserve and the question of ownership in the future. We have agreed on a Swahili strategy.
That was a good start!
After that I wanted to go straight to the computer to do things that had been postponed. But it drove me to the front to see what was going on and to lay the car seat covers in the sun. And then, as I feared, it happened to me. A look into the garden, a thousand unfinished tasks. I already had a saw in my hand and the forecourt was the priority of the day. The day passed without the square being finished. At least a little further.
There's so much to do and I miss Prosper every day that he's not here...

Little progress is being made at the moment. Mussa is busy with Ramadan and only finds a few hours to work. Prosper is exhausted and actually needs more rest and relaxation but is constantly working for Vlada to recover the losses from the theft. Estella already helps a lot and she should take care of her things more. I'm used to working alone on Sundays because that's the rest day for the boys.
Nevertheless, the fact annoys me, since it is now the third week in the rainy season and we are far from finished planting and planting the garden. So I have to go through it alone. Remove grasses, mix in polls, chicken manure, remove stones. Preparing the prayers in moist soil in the daytime sun is exhausting and sweaty. Today I want to finish the sunflower beds, for which it is actually already too late. The only thing that drives me forward is the hope of an extended rainy season. After three hours the bed in front of the door house is ready. In between, I keep finding places in the garden where I have planned plantings. So I cut shoots again and again and ram the 35kg iron into the coral bottom to make holes for them in the bottom. Around noon I notice that I now have to use my energy reserves more budgets.
After an hour of work, relax in the hammock for a quarter of an hour and gather strength. But I can do it! The bed behind the Makuti house is now filled with sunflower seeds and with the last of our strength and Estella's help we also create the bed in front of the outdoor bathroom.
Phew!
Now we are hungry and I want to process the cheese that suffered from frost shock into something edible. The night before I had the idea to process it into cheese sauce. To mix in roux with broth as a base and 500g of the bad buy. Contrary to my pessimism, the product was very tasty. Maybe it was just the hunger that lowered the expectations to a lower level, but Estella and Vlada also adorned it, in the end I was stuffed and happy to have finally gotten the work with the beds behind me.
 

The arrival was once again, I've gotten used to it, very mixed. Some things were done, a lot remained by the wayside. The most beautiful change was the new life in the Bustani. Vlada, a Ukrainian neighbor has found accommodation in the Makutihaus. Her house is under construction and she is struggling with the "fundus" problem. It's supposed to be another two weeks, I can only smile. If it's finished in May, she'll be lucky. One of her friends, Dani, came to visit with Paula from Berlin. She is enthusiastic and honors the many work I have done with the boys. That feels good!
I was appalled that nobody was able to fix the problem with the solar system in the bird watch house. Prosper thought he had checked everything, to no avail. One look was enough to see that a gust of wind had flipped the solar panel over and was now lying the wrong way up on the roof. After putting it back in the right position and a day of sunshine, it was up and running again in the evening.
The other problem was the roof of the Makuti house that had slipped off. The ladies say they jumped on the hanging bed and then the roof let down. A bigger problem. But since Paula's friend built the roof, he should also repair it.
Most of all I was happy to have Willow in my arms again, who enthusiastically told me how much he loves judo and how much he enjoys going there.

Seven o'clock out of bed. My left ear is giving me trouble. Water behind the eardrum, slight inflammation. But now further. Breakfast, Estella makes me supo ya mbuzi. Clear goat meat soup. I absolutely love these soups made from goat, chicken, especially beef. Tam, delicious! Especially with chapati and chili. Yesterday I found out how Estella's father used cunning and cunning and poison to hunt down elephants in order to get meat when he was young, today I will find out later how Steven's brother lions stole the prey and proudly did too more meat came home than he could carry. The stories fill me with awe and wonder.
The brothers Mango and Steven are already waiting at the first property.
We met on one of Steven's numerous plots. I examined the 135m deep well and the huge generator that was necessary for the 10kw pump. Orders of magnitude whereas Zanzibar looks like a children's playground. In general, the Garden of Wonders seems like a preschool meadow. More determination, more ability is definitely appropriate this year. There are high hopes for Dory and egg production. We will see. It's just a feeling of what would have been possible if all the money I spent in Zanzibar had gone productive with Steven and Mango. All the knowledge and everyday hard work impresses me. The papaya plantation alone! Barely a meter tall, the sweetest fruits are already attached, which we enjoy as a small snack. Permaculture approaches can be seen everywhere. It is impressive that all the huge fields are worked on without machines, only with rakes and human power. To protect our one earth, this gentle way of farming is to be preserved. The use of large machines and artificial fertilizers must be avoided at all costs. Before the World Food Program should go its own way, Europe must first work on itself and drastically reduce the throwaway mentality before the food industry devastates even more of the country. These small farmers here, in any case, hardly contribute to it.
We visit the first country we want to use for sustainable charcoal production. The lush green on the uncultivated field is reminiscent of a meadow landscape in Brandenburg. The soil is moist and loose. Shrubs are scattered. Only the baobab trees remind us that we are deep in Africa here. Stumps left over after land clearing are already beginning to sprout and recover. A small stream, which carries a lot of water during the rainy season, meanders through the property. Estella and I think the land is optimal.
On the way back we passed an artificial lake where waterfowl frolic, we met many people who worked diligently in their fields but always had time to exchange a few words with Steven or Mango. In the village we separated for the moment, each wanted to go to his family for lunch. After the well-deserved rest, we drove to the second property, seven kilometers away, by motorbike. Not without making a stop at Steven's other plot where he plants sugar beets and bananas. The V-cut inspection area for the charcoal project is smaller than the first, but all the more beautiful. There are huge trees Baobabs, Mninga and others whose names I have not yet remembered. In one place there are some monoliths that decorate the landscape in a picturesque way. wow! How nice to be able to catch a glimpse of the original landscape. Definitely suitable for forest construction. A deep rainwater course lines the northern border so that water reserves could also be created here.
At the end of the day we come to the conclusion that everything is much smaller than expected, but the quality of the plots is very high.

Today Estella and I went through the presentation of our charcoal project again. In doing so, I limited myself to an outline and increasingly only to the first steps of the project. Kept it very simple. Nevertheless, I noticed that a change of direction in thinking is not at all comprehensible.
In the evening meeting, our first meeting, everything went very differently than I had imagined. I can only be grateful that they are incredibly well-disposed towards me as a new family member. Only the first point is important: which country can be provided. First of all, it quickly becomes clear that acres and hectares do not correspond in terms of size. It quickly became clear to me that I could not hope for the desired 70 hectares. They thought a lot about where to get land from, but left it at that to show us the 2 plots that had already been selected tomorrow. When time comes, new opportunities come.
In the end, I thought that was nice, at the end of the day I was not the savior for poor farmers, but a foreigner who was welcomed with open hearts by self-confident Tanzanian people, whom they would like to help integrate into the family. I owe this above all to the bond with Estella, but this goodwill fills me with great humility.

We had a good restful sleep. Finally again. nose free. happiness. I am pleased to be here. Happy, Estella's sister and closest family member, who welcomed us first yesterday, is already on her way into town.
Wake up calmly and give your full attention to the wonders of nature. Estella had already told me about it, but I admired it like a child. On my first visit, I had experienced the country as it was always described to me in the German media: barren, sandy, hard and hot. The fact that it now seems to me as if an African experiences Europe for the only time in January and then tells his family how it is there makes me ponder. Slowly but steadily progress has been made here for centuries. Hardly anyone suffers from poverty here. The families stick together and help each other. Each. No matter what mistakes accompany him or her. Where there are no constructed structures, life is simply lived as it has always been. Isn't that the wish that is secretly desired in Western societies? Here you can be whoever you want, just stay human. Unfulfillable expectations, life in the fast lane, greed for wealth, whoever has it moves to Dar es Salaam and doesn't stay here.
Despite all the daydreaming, it should be noted here that my European-style eyes do perceive the population explosion. When Estella's father arrived there were 5 young and very small families, no more than 60 people. Within a generation, a church with more than 1,000 if not 2,000 people has emerged from this.
Everyone strives for a secure life, and that means children first and foremost.

Get up at five. Tired, in a bad mood. House tidy, last things packed together. Left too late. Bus drove away under his nose. Crap. Disappointed, overflows, in a bad mood. Then sunrise over the top of Kilimanjaro. Uplifting, beautiful. Estella had already organized a bus for an hour later. Mood improves with increasing daylight. We laugh at our anger.
Estella: "Am I a comedian before why you are laughing, whenever I talk?"
The bus we board is clean and tidy and very new. Even after 2.5 hours of reasonably tolerable music, there is also a film, which is a welcome change given the constant noise that is common in the Tanzanian transport system. In the last hour it's getting warmer and warmer on the bus and my butt starts to hurt. I'm happy when we reach Dodoma around 3am and get off the bus and change onto an airy Bajaji.
In the capital of Tanzania, Estella buys a few souvenirs for the family and I print out a few papers for the charcoal project. It is now approaching 5 a.m. and there is no longer a direct connection to Wiliko. We take a Bajaji to the southern Daladala station and board a bus shortly before. A quasi direct connection very atypical for the country and always associated with good luck. The bus, on the other hand, does justice to every prejudiced European view of Africa. The color is rust, you can still see that it used to be a sunny yellow, which seems to have faded here and there. The panes are so scratched and covered with dust that the lush green landscape at this time of year can only be guessed at. The seat covers are just individual threads that hold the already worn and dusty foam on the wires. The aisle is paved with large sacks of corn, flour and beans on which you have to snake your way around the shopping bags to get to an empty seat. Doesn't matter. The main thing is that we arrive in Wiliko today.
Four villages further on, however, this resolution faltered. The gear shift of our far outdated means of transport had given up the ghost. When, after a quarter of an hour, a mechanic from the Fundi category who was summoned began to take out the most intimate parts such as gears, connecting rods and screws from the inside of the engine, I began to have doubts about our arrival today. We were already close and didn't let it spoil our mood. We bought some more toast and soda and waited a while. But the engine parts that were collected outside in the dusty earth became more and more. My hopes of being able to continue driving before sunset were now completely gone. After another 20 minutes, watching the shadows lengthen, rescue appeared on the horizon. Another Daladala, already filled to the brim, took us and our luggage, as well as 3 other stranded people. Tightly packed, we stood like in a Japanese subway and followed the Christian music performances that were offered to us on the flat screen and discussed them. So the time passed until we reached the junction to Wiliko at sunset. Here we had to discuss for a while about the price of further transport. The Bodaboda drivers were already drunk and it wasn't the price but the condition that worried me. At some point, Estella agreed with the young hooligans and another half hour's ride on the motorbikes on a sandy, undeveloped road lay ahead of us. The sun slowly went down past growing fields and rainwater ponds. It was pitch dark when we finally reached our destination. When we sat down in the sparsely lit room and heard no more noise than the chirping of the crickets, we first noticed how our heads were buzzing. Finally peace!
Well for a brief moment, then waves of curious children poured in to examine the odd white man. Mama Estella also gave us a warm greeting and we had a short conversation that signaled joy and openness. We made a small round to shake hands with Papa Estella. We were dead tired, but eating and showering were obligatory before we could go to bed. I got potatoes with meat sauce, Mama Estella remembered that I liked that.
Showering meant pouring cold water over the overtired and overheated bodies out in the field in the cool Dodoma at night, which cost me quite a bit of effort.
Only the tough get into the garden!?
Although we could hardly see anything, but guessed with the flashlights of our phones: The red sandy desert where I married Estella in front of her family has turned into a green sea of fertility in the last 4 months.

After a day in bed and sleeping in, the legs and mind were ready to explore the Kilimanjaro area again. We want to Umbwe Gate. I had the request to leave for Wiliko tomorrow to advance the sustainable charcoal project. The other importance remains Estella and Florian's dream of a Kilimanjaro Lodge.
After Estella had taken care of the bus reservation and payment over the phone, we were on our way. So far I have explored the areas of three of the five gates to climb Kilimanjaro and the area around Umbwe is so beautiful and breathtaking that the lodge project should definitely take place here.
As a starting point, we first went to the ruins lodge that Estella didn't get at the auction. Our hearts bled. All the more so because I was only now able to realize the real value.
We walked right and left along the border of the national park. Birds, butterflies, flowers, trees, meadows, no cars in sight. Small farms that are tilled by hand on one side, wild untouched jungle of the Kilimanjaro National Park on the other side. Huge trees that soar into the sky on which eagles refer to their observation posts, clear meltwater and rainwater runs that constantly supply the mixed cultures of banana trees, coffee bushes, pumpkin tendrils, cereals (I will explore the variety later) with fresh water. A paradise of an intact nature. Even if the worst fears of climate change come true, this place remains a livable sanctuary. Building a base for our family here is Estella's wish and now mine too.
After five hours of exploring and property hunting, we headed back with a few new phone numbers to lead us on the trail of new property offerings and aching leg muscles again. In a small shop we found handmade clay pots with which we rewarded ourselves for our tour of discovery. Estella didn't want to take them with her right away, because she wanted the pots to be burned out on site before transport. So there was an additional reason to return to the place that we hope will soon become our second home.

Today Estella and I are getting married for the second time. Finally we have a registry office appointment and the goodwill of the officials on our side. At 8 o'clock we appeared at the Office of District of Moshi. We signed the documents on the exact date and were taken to the Annunciation Room. There was a competent, brash, confident Chief of District waiting. After five minutes one of our witnesses had to leave. So I sat alone in a room with three self-confident women who all earn their own money and was asked whether I was aiming for a monogamous or polygamous marriage. A bizarre situation for me. As a man, I have the right to decide. For a millisecond I thought oh how nice to keep a back door open... I looked into Estella's laughing eyes and knew what I wanted and what I had to say in order to even be able to get married.
We rose solemnly. The chief gave a short haunting speech that underscored the solemnity whereupon we exchanged vows. We had achieved this goal that we had set ourselves today on March 4th, 2022. We were exhausted, marked by muscle aches from yesterday's tour and fatigue from the insomnia of excitement.
Nevertheless, we dragged ourselves to the nearby immigration office to pick up my passport, which was waiting there for an extension of my visa. That lasts two hours. And instead of going out to dinner and partying in town, we just wanted to chill in bed. Not that marriage will give me a residence permit. Now that's the next challenge.
I love Estella, love the exciting and absolutely new life she gives me.
Asante, ninakupenda sana!

What a beautiful sight! A red capped robin chat built its nest on the sheltered part of the Makuti roof of the Bird Watch House while I was in Moshi and is now breeding. She thus inaugurates the house, a good sign for the future of bustani ya maajabu.

Today is the departure of the Czech family. They have enriched the garden with their simple, calm manner. I'd always like it that way. Altogether they were now in two sections over three weeks in the Makutihaus. They endured the music with us, always wanting to stay because they found the garden and the situation so appealing. This has confirmed me in my many years of work and has done my soul good. Now they are gone. And I couldn't keep the Berlin couple. The music was just too loud. It's a shame because there was almost nothing to be heard last night.
We didn't get much done today. Today I instructed FatherFather to buy the missing material. Let's see what we get tomorrow. It would be great if it works. That means I have less stress for a day and can devote myself to the charcoal project again.?

I spent most of my time improving my e-sports career and only played football 4 times with Etjone otherwise I was home most of the time and Alex ended our friendship otherwise me and Masai got back together and me and Ismail have one Club called THE BOIZZ yes and it was very nice with mom and we watched the first two parts of “the gods must be crazy” and were lazy most of the time.
Etjone lives deep inside even deeper than we do but beautiful as it is right by the sea I saw when Abu was driving her home.
I didn't do much in the 2 weeks, except that I missed my father.
At the beginning of the week I had lice, then we tried to get them out with vinegar. Then came lio, who also had lice and we had 3 days off, the same day he slept here. Thanks to Gelena we were able to get the eggs out with coconut oil.
A few days later I went to the beach with Etjone to play football with him and lio showed Paula the modern way of listening to music on spotify. Movie failure because the keyboard was broken and no electricity because the solar panel was twisted by the wind. Because we were too lazy to cook, Ouchu made us eat and Jenny made the lunch box for school.
Tomorrow I plan to go to school, of course, then when I get home to eat, I want to wear my Real Madrid jersey to play football at the weekend, I'll probably sleep a lot and Masai might come too.

It is not easy to get out of the bustani ya maajabu. There is still work to be done. But I had agreed with Estella that today is the day.
Estella had already packed everything the night before, but I still didn't manage to get out in time. It was already quarter past eight when we drove off. Too late for the second ferry we had to take to catch the train to Moshi. Estella was very tense, I surrendered to the situation.
So we could still eat our favorite soup, withdraw money and buy a new blender for Estella in Stown Town, until we finally boarded the third ferry. Estella fed up, that's extremely important for a good mood, but also happy about the new mixer was now also relaxed. There was still a theoretical chance of catching the train at half past two. It was a quarter to two when Dar es Salaam was clearly visible. It still took until half past two until the doors of the ferries opened. We pushed like never before and made it through the ferry terminal controls and exit in a world record time of 6 minutes. In less than a minute, Estella organized and negotiated two bodaboda (motorcycle taxis) that drove us against the traffic at high speed to the train station. We jumped off the bikes and started running. The train was still there! But how long? We ran past three people who made the well-known pole pole sign (slow, slow) with their hands. We now understood that there was no passenger on the train and the scales were still being ranked. We still had plenty of time to buy tickets and water and food. It was two hours later, that we were asked to board the train.
We were happy that we had made it and were in a good mood.
We laughed about Erik, the old Viking from Sweden who likes to buy shares in German companies. He always wanted to explain the world to us, but was incredibly preoccupied with his own problems. Among other things, with his luggage with 40 kilograms of magazines and newspapers from the last 30 years, which he had with him because he hadn't had time to read them yet. The fear of malaria was also very great. He wanted to know the name of the drug that the locals take here, although in the same sentence he emphasized that he knew everything about malaria and that prophylaxis was absolutely necessary.
With a smile we helped the tall, sparse man with the permanently wearing folding sunglasses to fill his small knowledge gap. In the hallway we followed a conversation as a drunken Tanzanian asked the Swede. On the subject of children, he said that he would not put any in this bad world. That was simply incomprehensible for the interlocutor, which he made increasingly clear. A man must have children! Otherwise he leaves nothing behind in this world. A man without children is not a man. He was so worried about the white man's salvation that he kept talking to him more and more violently that the nomaly talkative Erik, tight-lipped and disgusted, retreated into the compartment. Later he wanted to have a bite to eat with us in the dining car, but the pounding music drove Estella and me away again.
We looked out the window until sunrise, talked and dammed the consistently lush green landscape. So much for the poor, emaciated Africa of starving people. Potent, Energetic, Beautiful. I love traveling by train around Tanzania, although we had learned through the news that a week earlier a train derailed on this same route and five people died. We went to our compartments around 10am and slept the rest of the way until we arrived in Moshi at 9am.

Here are some current pictures from the little Utopia bustani ya maajabu. It evolves. Old ideas are now being completed.
Above all, I send you rays of sunshine, love and happiness.

We started working early. I wanted to finish the doorhouse and push the storeroom further. We were actually expecting the next guests, but they canceled already yesterday. Still, we wanted to stay on schedule and get things done. We were making good progress when Peter got in touch and said he wanted out of his rented space and to move in with us. What a joy! We wanted to give him the choice to move to Makuti or the Doorhouse. So we prepared both houses. But the Birdwatchhouse was also thoroughly cleaned.
And then Peter was there. He chose the Makutihouse. Despite its spacial charisma and outdoor bathroom, it is simply the feel-good house, for me the best of all houses!
Karibu bustani ya maajabu!
Make yourself at home Uncle Peter!

Now another year has passed. I've been in Africa non-stop for a year now and Willow is a year older again. Well all of us is. But today is Willows birthday and from the morning we prepare hamburgers, pasta salad, etc. Paula the pasta salad and I did the hamburger. Even with cheese that Paula brought from Germany. We are pressed for time to pick the boys up from school on time. Willow has wished to go swimming in Kruza Cave with some boys from school. The cake that Paula made for school was very well received and we picked up 5 cheerful boys from school. And what a joy: Willow's great-uncle Peter was there too! Visit from Berlin for his birthday.
After a warm welcome we went to Kruza Cave. Willow on Peter's motorcycle and the guests with us in the trunk of the car. The guys did a jumping and beatboxing championship. They had a lot of fun and fed up with delicious fast food.
In the evening Peter came all the way to the bustani and ate supper with us. A successful day through and through.

All of Zanzibar is partying and celebrating Revolution Day, we are having a farewell dinner with our first guests of the year. I wished for a meal from her home and bought everything for goulash. Mainly I want to know how to get the beef tender here. For Estella, Musa and Prosper I want the experience of food from other, here European cultures. I had already bought everything on Tuesday and assumed that I would not have to freeze the meat for one night. But when the preparation started, we had to realize that half of it was already green and spoiled. Well at least a feast for the dogs. They rarely get that much meat.
Luckily we could start with the rest. With dry bread and flour and milk, the dumplings were prepared. Estella looked over her shoulder with disbelief and great interest. After two hours the feast was over. Yummy! And the meat tender!. The secret lies in the steam pressure pot and in the searing, I've been told. All of us, especially Willow, absolutely loved it. And it was perfectly sized too.
Everyone was full, satisfied and happy.
A great farewell.
We wish you a nice trip and you are always welcome back!

Today was a busy day with a happy ending. After getting up we went straight to the doors. Hung the last door to the bathroom and it fits! Without extension, without loops. Some of the others had to be repaired or finished, which we didn't manage to do right away. The time was on my neck because Estella and I wanted to go to Stonetown. I got a bit uneasy wood broke and needed repairs. Somehow we managed to get it all done at half past twelve, so that Prosper could start painting when we finally made our way to Stonetown. I broke up, we split up in town and I still had the strength to buy bolts for the doors, which we will then install when the time comes. Thanks to Nassor, the prices are always moderate for the construction stuff I have to buy. He always saves my wallet!
Estella, whom I can hardly thank enough for her constant willingness to help, took care of everything in Kwerekwe. I the trifles in the Darajani. When we got home exhausted, Musa and Prosper told us that it had rained in Kizimkazi. Nice, no even very nice for the bustani ya maajabu but my concern as soon as I heard that was the freshly painted doors. When I found them hanging in the doorhouse, I almost cried.
What a beautiful sight! How long did I work for this? 6 months? I'm so happy.
Tomorrow the door bolts, then they'll be done.

The guests from the Czech Republic extended their stay by four days, which makes us very happy. They won't leave us until the 13th. The 13th is also Willow's birthday and the 12th is Revolution Day, so on the 11th we have to go to Stowntown to shop for the birthday. Let's go.
Today we extended the doors. Of course, as advised by bibi Willow. The Doorhouse has doors!

The year has only just begun. There is so much to do and so many tasks buzzing through my head. Actually, I'm already working on the much more important project "sustainable charcoal" for Tanzania, but the bustani ya maajabu takes all my time. The doorhouse should now finally be finished. And now it has finally come true. We managed to get the first three doors hung. They are still a bit too short and still need to be painted. There are still three days of intensive work ahead of us. But at least. The storeroom gets structure. The first guests feel very comfortable here in the garden of wonders, despite the nocturnal noise pollution caused by the music from the three surrounding bars. Willow, my son is back to normal with school and friends.
I can enjoy the small wins with Estella. We also shot our first small test film in the garden and are thrilled.

It was only two and a half weeks. Yet. My son is so important in my life and if it's longer than a few days I miss him a lot. They are growing so fast and his eleventh birthday is coming up. He's grown in a short time and I already have the feeling that he's a lot more independent again. He is now on the road with two smartphones, which worries me. Didn't I just choose this sanctuary so he could be more in nature? Well somehow keep the balance.
It's nice that he's back and I can (still) cuddle and kiss him.

The time has come. The first guests have arrived in the garden. A family from Prague with a brother moved into the Makuti House for a week. In the morning we were busy cleaning everything up. A certain dining table, bibi Willow will know which one ;-) suffered a hangover from the previous birthday party. A Zanzibari mom had probably underestimated her weight. But it could be brought back into shape with a little hammering and scewing luckily without much effort. When I wanted to pick up our guests I got stuck with the car, but was still able to chauffeur them to the garden with an hour late. Quiet, nice people, visitors that the garden needs. Let's see how they like it.
Unfortunately, the bar, 500 meters away, has been making party with much too loud music since New Year's Eve. We hope that our guests do not react as alergic to it as we already do.
Even in paradise, not everything is perfect.
Nevertheless, we are happy that the holiday area created in the garden of wonders are finally being used.

The bustani ya maajabu starts with a neighborhood event. We were asked by a neighbor whether her little daughter's birthday could be celebrated at the garden of wonders. Naturally! This is what the meeting area in the garden is for. She was overjoyed and the pictures show that it was a wonderful event. Children and women danced and ate exuberantly.
Hope for a new, confident year and that life in bustani ya maajabu will finally start and not always have to be built.
Happy New Year, may many miracles come true in the "Garden of Wonders"!

I am now changing the form of documentation of our stories from the "garden of wonders" from the chat group to this blog. I think that the information of the current day's events belong here and the form of representation offers more possibilities. In addition, the information is no longer reserved for group members, but is open to everyone and at the same time the anonymity of the readers is preserved.
Have fun!