After our second week in Engikaret, I spent the weekend with Kelsey treading all over town by day and hustlin' the night life after dark. One of our weekend tasks was to replace my camera, which had gotten stolen a couple weeks prior after I left it in my bag at a hostel over night. Most hostels ask you to leave your room key at reception while you're out, so while I was out at a club one night someone snuck into the room and took my camera and some money. As I'm writing this, I'm realizing how much of a non-issue it was, as I didn't even think to write about the theft in the previous blogs. You have to half expect occasional losses and learn how to roll with it around here... so I'm pleased to say that even though it was a drag to lose the camera, it wasn't a big deal as I am still safe and sound! Well, it wasn't a big deal to me anyway. Some friends of mine were livid to hear what happened and wouldn't stand to let the guy get away so easy. It's quite common for people to take matters like theft into their own hands, as the police are notoriously corrupt and cannot be relied upon. I heard news one afternoon that some of my friends took the kid who had been working the reception desk that night and gave him a very firm "talking to"... that is, the kind of talking you do with your fists... for hours. It was hard to hear the story of what happened as I never intended for the kid to be punished so brutally, but the reality is that this is how the people handle matters here! Something I'm afraid I will never get used to. So, after stalling for a couple weeks, I finally bought a new camera at Arusha's downsized version of something like Best Buy, called Benson's, which worked out beautifully. I've since heard that the kid never returned to work at the hostel.
The week of July 18th I was scheduled to remain in town with another volunteer and a local intern to help with maintenance of our demo plot in Tengeru, and to help make preparations for an upcoming festival called Nane Nane. Nane Nane means Eight Eight, because it takes place on Aug. 8 every year, celebrating agriculture workers by showcasing new and innovative ag styles at a big outdoor fairgrounds. (They have a similar holiday called Saba Saba, meaning Seven Seven, on July 7 to celebrate business industry) GSC had an area at Nane Nane to demonstrate double-dug beds, sack gardens, water trenches called hafirs, and other related technologies we employ in our trainings. My good friend Dan from San Francisco was scheduled to fly in on Wednesday that week for a visit/holiday, so I was glad to be in town and be able to meet with him right away! He had a fun time helping us weed, water, and make compost tea during the week before his friend Jess arrived on Saturday to join us.
On Sunday, Dan, Jess, and I took off for a three-day safari to Tarangire, followed by the Ngorongoro Crater. We had an incredible time, enjoyed perfect weather, and saw more animals I ever imagined we'd see with the help of our eagle-eyed driver Sifuni. The highlight of the safari took place one afternoon just before lunch, we were near a pond in Ngorongoro watching a lion creep down low in some tall grasses. The lion, meanwhile, was watching a herd of zebra grazing and drinking water from the pond. Before long, BOOM-- the lion bolted out from her hiding place and struck one of the zebras! A huge cloud of dust arose and the zebra quickly scattered. When the dust settled, we found the lion walking slowly away from the scene, empty handed and seemingly slightly embarrassed by the debacle. All of our hearts were racing to witness such drama, and yet it was just another day in the crater for those guys.
The next few days I spent playing tour guide in Arusha with Jess and Dan. We spent lots of nice time with my family, shopped for souvenirs at the markets, took a nice walk around Lake Duluti with my friend Okul before checking out his family's coffee shamba, hiked Mt. Meru with Rogers, and had plenty of nights dancing up a storm-- both in the clubs, and at home! Karen had a field day with all the wazungu around and loved cranking up the sound system when she found us all at the house to instigate an impromptu dance party. Everyone loves to shake it! Mama, baba, cousins, and even grandma got in on the action, it was a hell of a time. Baba Karen is big on nick names when it comes to wazungu, which are usually just comparisons to celebrities, and after Dan and Jess left my family continued to talk about how much they miss Michael Owen and Lady Gaga... not to mention Princess Diana (Kelsey) who also left that week!
After taking the week off I had heard that the GSC crew had a town week that following Monday, which meant we would still work in a village but return to town each afternoon. Well, being out of the loop bit me in the ass when I arrived in Monduli town with some fellow crewmembers only to hear, "We better find our accommodations before we meet the participants." I glanced down at my tiny day-bag and realized we had a problem! Being unprepared for a week away, I took a daladala all the way back to Arusha at the end of the day and ended up staying in town for the week to help maintain the gardens around the GSC office. It was great being in town because I was finally able to catch up with some friends I had previously only seen on the weekends at Empire. The Warriors from the East play music there every Saturday, and I eventually learned that they also run a community center for local youth during the week, not far from my homestay, called Africelt. I was so impressed when I finally came by to check it out. They have a large compound with classrooms-- both indoor and outdoor-- where they teach students English, computer skills, gardening, and music, as well as a small football pitch where they have sports in the afternoons. What a great day-job! I fell in love with everyone there and ended up spending most of my afternoons that week playing football with the kids. Have a look at their website if you're interested to check out the great work they're doing over at Africelt, they even take volunteers! http://africelt.org/
The GSC volunteer numbers began to dwindle as folks started going home, and I was glad to have my homies over at Africelt to hang out with so close to home. Magere is the band leader of the Warriors, as well as the director of Africelt, and welcomed me so warmly. He lives there on the compound with Lucy, fellow band-mate/cousin Odek, and Maasai warrior/compound guard Saitoti who also sings with the band. Odek and Magere are Luo tribe from the shores of Lake Victoria in Kenya, and I have been doing my best to learn the art of cooking omena in the evenings-- small fried fish, called dagaa in Tanzania, eaten whole with ugali-- their staple! In fact, the guys there are big on the importance of good nutrition and health, and view food as medicine by eating strictly ital/vegan food (with the exception of omena of course). They are actually quite forward thinking when you consider how uncommon it is to find a raw salads anywhere in Tanzania, and yet if you come by the compound during lunch time on any day, you will be met with a heaping plate of greens, carrots, beets, onions, peppers, avocado, tomatoes, etc. It's a thing of beauty! I told the guys about salad bars in the US like Souplantation or Fresh Choice, and they were about floored by the idea. Y'all don't know how good you have it!
After a fun weekend hanging out with my family, helping Karyn set up her very own email address, and a really nice house party with friends, we were off to Karangai on August 9th for a week of building grain storage tanks. I had an excellent week with volunteers Candace and Nora who always keep me laughing when we're scheduled to work together. The three of us created a week of such exciting events as a watermelon seed spitting contest, jump roping using vines with local kids, and late night group search parties for safe places to pee so as to avoid the roach infested loo, which becomes a closet-o-horror after dark when the insects come out to socialize. That Saturday I spent most of the day with Karyn, goofing around the neighborhood and practicing our lyrical flow to whatever songs are currently popular. Right now she's particularly into "Man Down" by Rihanna and "Letting Go" by Sean Kingston. She loves to blast the songs on our rather sophisticated stereo system at the house (over and over and over), practically screaming to the tune of the song but improvising her own lyrics-- or just messing them up outright. Finally I said, "Karyn, if you always scream so loud over the song, you'll never learn the words, because you can't hear them..." She responded, "I know!!" and continued singing. It didn't even occur to me that she couldn't care less. I love that.
Around that weekend I started going to Empire on my own Saturday nights. I finally realized that it didn't matter if I showed up with friends or not-- I had been going there for so long at that point that I'm guaranteed to find friends there who are happy to have me join their groups. It's a really nice feeling, a la Cheers, to have a place to go... where everybody knows your name! (Haha, I had to do it) I have a great time chatting with folks from around town, and whatever fellow mzungu sisters I find there are always down to chat or cheer me on if I play pool. At first the only apparent drawback was the onslaught of male creepers delighted to find a mzungu girl gettin' down without a partner on the dance floor. So at first, I forced myself to avoid dancing in order to save myself some hassle and unwanted attention. After some time though, I realized I was so NOT alone! Whether it's our Maasai brother Saitoti, homies from the Warriors community center, or other friends, there's always someone around to call me onto the dance floor and take care of me if any random dudes try to step in. As Odek said one night as he and Saitoti walked me home, "Between a Maasai warrior and a Rasta, my dear, no one is going to mess with you!"
The following week was spent doing BIA follow-ups in Mzimuni, as well as more building grain storage tanks. It was another town week and pretty low-key, so I enjoyed spending my afternoons either playing football with the kids at the center or playing pool with homies. The next week, however, was painful. The week of August 22nd was supposed to be my very last week working in the village with GSC, but the fates had something else in store for me. I woke up in the wee hours of Sunday night and felt a strange and sudden need to bolt out of bed to vomit. I got up and ran out of my bedroom-- and that's about where my memory fades. I passed out in the hallway, and the sound of me crashing to the ground apparently woke everyone up. I vaguely remember Baba Karen trying to wake me up, and wondering why I was on the floor. I slipped back unconscious, and woke up again a minute later to find myself puking all over the place. Scary! I later heard I drove Mama Karen's blood pressure through the roof, I scared everyone so bad. I spent the rest of the night, as well as the next morning, throwing up. I call that 24-hour period "Tanzania Tummy Bug, Strike II." Fortunately though, the all-too expensive medical clinic I went to meant a short wait and medicine fast-- at the expense of a super creepy lab technician hitting on me far too aggressively in my already nauseated state. I'm glad to say that while the rest of the week was less-than comfortable, I began to feel better once I got medicine, shukuru mungu (thank god!). It was sad to miss my last week of volunteering, but it's nice that I'm still around Arusha for the time being, so no teary-eyed goodbyes were necessary.
I spent the weekend packing up my things in preparation to move out of my homestay. Another process made easier by the fact that I'm not yet leaving the area! Karyn very sweetly gave me a very special gift. She told me that, as I will be her sister forever, she wanted me to have the kanga that was given to her on her first communion-- the very same one that was given to her mama on her first communion. A beautiful fabric with pink and red roses on it with such sentimental value, I was touched to say the least. That Sunday I moved out of my homestay and into the complex over at Africelt. I feel so blessed to have great friends over there that are happy to host me! Better yet, it's only a few minutes walk to my old homestay so I can stop by to greet Mama and the family just about every day. Karyn even came by the center to play soccer and decided she wants to volunteer there! I'm so proud of her.
Now my friends, we have finally reached present day. I am still staying at de rasta complex and spending my days making preparations for my next moves to Kenya. In a little over a week, I plan to head to Nairobi and spend some time checking out Kenya before settling in Machakos for 2 months to teach BIA at an orphanage. Keep an eye out for more posts soon. Lots of love!
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Mom and Dad do Africa / The Funza Strikes Back
As I was saying...
Mama Andi and Baba Andi arrived in Tanzania late Sunday night, June 19. I had expected to head to the village as always on Monday morning, so I left them an envelope full of goodies at their hotel reception desk, including a Swahili phrase book, a local cell phone, a map of Arusha, and some snacks for their late night arrival. As it happened, Monday morning I woke up feeling quite ill, and my churning tummy told me to stay home. Lucky Mom and Dad! By the early afternoon I was able to muster up the strength to stop by their hotel to catch up a bit and take them to lunch. I took them to my favorite restaurant Mapinduzi, where I absent-mindedly ordered 3 plates of food (forgetting the state of my stomach). One of the reasons I love that restaurant is not only because the goat is delightful, but they really take care of you by bringing plate after plate of delicious food, even if you didn't order it. I surely shamed my family by leaving an absurd amount of food on my plate that afternoon, but at least I took care of the avocado juice no problem! Mmm...
Tuesday Mom and Dad took off for their safari, and I spent the rest of the week resting up. By Thursday I was feeling about up to par, and when Baba Karen saw me hanging out in the sitting room that afternoon he said, "You seem bored! I'm going to the fundi, want to go for a walk with me?" (A fundi can be any craftsman, like a blacksmith or a carpenter. In this case, he was going to a tailor.) After leaving the house, we hadn't walked very far along the main road when he told me to hang a left along a small footpath between some houses. Turn after turn, he lead me through an incredibly convoluted path, cutting through shambas (farms), back roads, mud houses and local bars. "It took me 5 times before I could remember this way!" he told me. I was thinking only 5 times was damn impressive! We arrived at the fundi and Baba got his pants hemmed while we waited, cracking jokes about his own short legs all the while. On the way back, he took me to a cool local spot that had an L-shaped pool table! He is a great pool player himself and loves helping me improve my game, so we hung out for quite some time while he bought me sodas and games of pool. I'm telling you... when you've got family like that, recovery from illness is a breeze.
Mom and Dad returned from safari on Friday with incredible stories of all the animals they had seen. We spent Saturday running errands, buying beautiful Tanzanian fabric (called kangas or kitenges), and took a walk through the always chaotic central market. We had dinner that night at Khan's, an auto repair shop by day and incredible barbecue joint by night, for some really tasty chicken and chips, followed by a trip to my favorite bar Empire. Mom and Dad were warmly welcomed by my friends there, surely not just because they bought us all a round of Konyagi! We had a great time chatting and hanging out with the live reggae playing in the background. Sunday we spent the day at my homestay, where Mama Chaulla and Baba Karen gave Mom and Dad a tour of the garden and banana shamba, followed by chai and a nice home-cooked lunch. We got to talking politics and Baba Karen showed us a home video he had of a big demonstration that took place in Arusha only last January. There had been some trouble after the notoriously corrupt CCM party manipulated a voting event to skew the results, and the people responded by taking to the streets! He showed us incredible footage of police brutality and acts of incredible bravery as more and more Chadema supporters (the opposition party) marched together in unity, narrated by Baba's first-hand account of what happened that day. I have the coolest family! That night our neighbor, Mama Felista, cooked us a delicious dinner in honor of my parents' coming in perfect Tanzanian hospitality.
We spent the next week in Zanzibar for a really relaxing holiday. I was reminded of how overwhelming it felt to arrive in Arusha for the first time when we first got to Stonetown. A mess of hustle and bustle, narrow, winding streets, and a whole new culture as Zanzibar is predominantly Muslim. We spent our first night at a very modest hostel in Stonetown where we got to roam the street at night and found a great restaurant with local food, where I finally introduced Mom and Dad to the magic that is the chapati! We spent the rest of our time at a rather posh but absolutely gorgeous hotel with its own private beach, not far from Stonetown but far enough to have some peace from the chaos. We did some of the token tourist activities like visit a spice farm for a tour-- Zanzibar is famous for all the spices they are able to grow, although not one is native to the island. We also got to kayak through mangroves, tour an old slave market (quite upsetting, yet an important piece of history to witness), visit a gorgeous and brightly colored traditional Hindu temple, and the central market. I made a friend at the market that day who suggested we come that night to the Old Fort for grilled street food. We arrived at around 8pm and found an entire block of tables with grills hissing away, full of chicken, beef, lobster, crab, and about a million types of fresh fish... not to mention naan, cassava, sweet potatoes, and the infamous Zanzibar pizza. We cruised the rows of lantern-lit grills and within minutes, our friend from earlier that day ran up to us, "I have been looking for you all night! Come, come, I will show you my table! I know the price that man was going to give you, trust me, mine is better." (And truly, it was) I like to blame it being Dad's birthday for the way we feasted that night, but let's be real... the food was incredible and we are not the type of family to be shy about food. Our buddy found us a nice table and we had a really great night sampling as much freshly grilled food as our tummies could hold. Happy birthday Dad!
As we prepared to leave our hotel Friday morning, we were surprised to see so many staff members with gravely upset faces as we loaded our luggage into the hotel shuttle. When Dad asked our driver, "They seem to have gotten some bad news?" He replied, "Yes, the other shuttle driver Pieus was killed this morning here at the hotel by thieves." He turned to me, knowing that I understood some Swahili and asked, "You know 'panga?'" (Panga means machete!!) Apparently the poor man was around during the early hours of the morning and was killed by some men attempting to steal the hotel's computers. Tragic, to say the least. The entire ride to the airport, our shuttle driver would pass people he knew on the road and call out "Oyo, umesikia?! Pieus amekufa!" (Hey, did you hear? Pieus died!) And then immediately continue driving off. What a way to hear the news... I checked some shocked faces in the rear-view mirror as we drove away. Ouch.
My homeboy and taxi driver extraordinaire, Ezekiel, picked us up from the airport once we arrived again in Arusha, and we made our way to Mom and Dad's hotel. We had a great weekend checking out Snake Park (a kind of zoo where they have a collection of Tanzanian snakes, and also administer anti-venom if you happen to get bit out in the bush), the Maasai craft market, a great hike on Mt. Meru with our buddy Rogers, and of course a few more evenings at Empire Sports Bar where I played my father at pool for the first time! Considering he was a bit rusty and I am still a bit new, we weren't all that impressive to watch... but not bad considering, and we had a blast all the while.
Mom and Dad left Tanzania that Monday, and it was back to work for me. We were assigned to work at Engikaret village, where we were surprised to find a group of wazungu when we arrived! For the first time in my experience, we weren't the only white folks doing NGO work in one village. Interesting! We met a fun group of international volunteers working on water projects in the very water-deprived area. Because of the water scarcity, our agriculture group focused on teaching sack gardens, instead of double-dug garden beds, because they conserve so much water while providing such a high yield in a small space. During one of the trainings that week I was holding a Maasai baby when I felt a sudden warmth in my lap. Oh no... "Anakojoa!" Someone take this baby! I was later told that being peed on by a baby means I will soon become pregnant. Excellent...
I spent the following weekend catching up with friends and a huge amount of laundry, since I had been so busy playing host with my folks the week prior. I know I've said this before, but there is something deeply satisfying about washing clothes by hand, and the moment I filled all of our clothes lines entirely with my clothes was a proud moment indeed! (A sweaty one, too) I got mad props from my family, who likes to cheer me on as I am apparently the first volunteer they've ever had who insisted on doing their own laundry without help. I hustled the pool tables hard that weekend, followed by a marriage proposal of course, and had lots of good times with friends. My fellow volunteer (and Saturday night partner in crime) Kelsey and I had gotten into the habit of spending Sunday mornings at Africafe eating more food you ever thought a couple of girls like us could put away. The waiters got to know us, and began smirking in anticipation as they got out their pad to write down our orders.
We returned to Engikaret the next week where we did early morning chicken vaccinations in addition to our normal trainings. It was the Monday that we arrived when I entered into a serious discussion with fellow volunteers Candace and Nora about footwear that I noticed an interesting white spot on the bottom of my left foot. "WHAT is that...!" I exclaimed, fearing the worst. "It's just a blister," Candace assured me. I wasn't convinced. Once we got situated in our guesthouse I asked Musa to take a look at my foot. He gave it a glance and said, "Ah that's not a funza. ... ... Hm. Let me look at it in the light." My impromptu surgeon then requested tools of a pin and a tweezer; it was time to operate. He dug and he dug, and before long the spot in question broke and tiny eggs spilled out. "I killed it!" Musa yelled. "I thought you said it's not a funza!" I yelled in response. The rest of the project was a clean-up and removal operation, and poor Musa's disgusted face didn't find much sympathy in my continuous laughter. How on earth a mzungu managed to get two funzas (let alone one!) in the course of a couple months, I haven't a clue, but the shock was over-- all I could do was laugh!
Although very dry and dusty, Engikaret is a gorgeous village surrounded by such picturesque desert. I enjoyed spending my afternoons kicking the football around with other volunteers or kids in the village, followed by evening walks through the desert on my own. Our guesthouse was right next to a very tall cell phone tower, which proved to be a huge help as I could wander the desert and not worry about getting lost. Once I became far enough from the village to escape the noises of children playing and fundis working, I would find a place to stand still in silence. Once you are still in a place like the desert, you have a chance to observe all the life that scurries away from trampling feet and loud voices. I watched the rabbits, the birds, the lizards, and all the interesting desert plant life. I had such nice, meditative moments being able to witness such a beautiful ecosystem at work and appreciate everything around me.
And with that my friends, I will quit for now. I promise another blog entry soon to bring you fully up to date! Sending best wishes. Until next time...
Mama Andi and Baba Andi arrived in Tanzania late Sunday night, June 19. I had expected to head to the village as always on Monday morning, so I left them an envelope full of goodies at their hotel reception desk, including a Swahili phrase book, a local cell phone, a map of Arusha, and some snacks for their late night arrival. As it happened, Monday morning I woke up feeling quite ill, and my churning tummy told me to stay home. Lucky Mom and Dad! By the early afternoon I was able to muster up the strength to stop by their hotel to catch up a bit and take them to lunch. I took them to my favorite restaurant Mapinduzi, where I absent-mindedly ordered 3 plates of food (forgetting the state of my stomach). One of the reasons I love that restaurant is not only because the goat is delightful, but they really take care of you by bringing plate after plate of delicious food, even if you didn't order it. I surely shamed my family by leaving an absurd amount of food on my plate that afternoon, but at least I took care of the avocado juice no problem! Mmm...
Tuesday Mom and Dad took off for their safari, and I spent the rest of the week resting up. By Thursday I was feeling about up to par, and when Baba Karen saw me hanging out in the sitting room that afternoon he said, "You seem bored! I'm going to the fundi, want to go for a walk with me?" (A fundi can be any craftsman, like a blacksmith or a carpenter. In this case, he was going to a tailor.) After leaving the house, we hadn't walked very far along the main road when he told me to hang a left along a small footpath between some houses. Turn after turn, he lead me through an incredibly convoluted path, cutting through shambas (farms), back roads, mud houses and local bars. "It took me 5 times before I could remember this way!" he told me. I was thinking only 5 times was damn impressive! We arrived at the fundi and Baba got his pants hemmed while we waited, cracking jokes about his own short legs all the while. On the way back, he took me to a cool local spot that had an L-shaped pool table! He is a great pool player himself and loves helping me improve my game, so we hung out for quite some time while he bought me sodas and games of pool. I'm telling you... when you've got family like that, recovery from illness is a breeze.
Mom and Dad returned from safari on Friday with incredible stories of all the animals they had seen. We spent Saturday running errands, buying beautiful Tanzanian fabric (called kangas or kitenges), and took a walk through the always chaotic central market. We had dinner that night at Khan's, an auto repair shop by day and incredible barbecue joint by night, for some really tasty chicken and chips, followed by a trip to my favorite bar Empire. Mom and Dad were warmly welcomed by my friends there, surely not just because they bought us all a round of Konyagi! We had a great time chatting and hanging out with the live reggae playing in the background. Sunday we spent the day at my homestay, where Mama Chaulla and Baba Karen gave Mom and Dad a tour of the garden and banana shamba, followed by chai and a nice home-cooked lunch. We got to talking politics and Baba Karen showed us a home video he had of a big demonstration that took place in Arusha only last January. There had been some trouble after the notoriously corrupt CCM party manipulated a voting event to skew the results, and the people responded by taking to the streets! He showed us incredible footage of police brutality and acts of incredible bravery as more and more Chadema supporters (the opposition party) marched together in unity, narrated by Baba's first-hand account of what happened that day. I have the coolest family! That night our neighbor, Mama Felista, cooked us a delicious dinner in honor of my parents' coming in perfect Tanzanian hospitality.
We spent the next week in Zanzibar for a really relaxing holiday. I was reminded of how overwhelming it felt to arrive in Arusha for the first time when we first got to Stonetown. A mess of hustle and bustle, narrow, winding streets, and a whole new culture as Zanzibar is predominantly Muslim. We spent our first night at a very modest hostel in Stonetown where we got to roam the street at night and found a great restaurant with local food, where I finally introduced Mom and Dad to the magic that is the chapati! We spent the rest of our time at a rather posh but absolutely gorgeous hotel with its own private beach, not far from Stonetown but far enough to have some peace from the chaos. We did some of the token tourist activities like visit a spice farm for a tour-- Zanzibar is famous for all the spices they are able to grow, although not one is native to the island. We also got to kayak through mangroves, tour an old slave market (quite upsetting, yet an important piece of history to witness), visit a gorgeous and brightly colored traditional Hindu temple, and the central market. I made a friend at the market that day who suggested we come that night to the Old Fort for grilled street food. We arrived at around 8pm and found an entire block of tables with grills hissing away, full of chicken, beef, lobster, crab, and about a million types of fresh fish... not to mention naan, cassava, sweet potatoes, and the infamous Zanzibar pizza. We cruised the rows of lantern-lit grills and within minutes, our friend from earlier that day ran up to us, "I have been looking for you all night! Come, come, I will show you my table! I know the price that man was going to give you, trust me, mine is better." (And truly, it was) I like to blame it being Dad's birthday for the way we feasted that night, but let's be real... the food was incredible and we are not the type of family to be shy about food. Our buddy found us a nice table and we had a really great night sampling as much freshly grilled food as our tummies could hold. Happy birthday Dad!
As we prepared to leave our hotel Friday morning, we were surprised to see so many staff members with gravely upset faces as we loaded our luggage into the hotel shuttle. When Dad asked our driver, "They seem to have gotten some bad news?" He replied, "Yes, the other shuttle driver Pieus was killed this morning here at the hotel by thieves." He turned to me, knowing that I understood some Swahili and asked, "You know 'panga?'" (Panga means machete!!) Apparently the poor man was around during the early hours of the morning and was killed by some men attempting to steal the hotel's computers. Tragic, to say the least. The entire ride to the airport, our shuttle driver would pass people he knew on the road and call out "Oyo, umesikia?! Pieus amekufa!" (Hey, did you hear? Pieus died!) And then immediately continue driving off. What a way to hear the news... I checked some shocked faces in the rear-view mirror as we drove away. Ouch.
My homeboy and taxi driver extraordinaire, Ezekiel, picked us up from the airport once we arrived again in Arusha, and we made our way to Mom and Dad's hotel. We had a great weekend checking out Snake Park (a kind of zoo where they have a collection of Tanzanian snakes, and also administer anti-venom if you happen to get bit out in the bush), the Maasai craft market, a great hike on Mt. Meru with our buddy Rogers, and of course a few more evenings at Empire Sports Bar where I played my father at pool for the first time! Considering he was a bit rusty and I am still a bit new, we weren't all that impressive to watch... but not bad considering, and we had a blast all the while.
Mom and Dad left Tanzania that Monday, and it was back to work for me. We were assigned to work at Engikaret village, where we were surprised to find a group of wazungu when we arrived! For the first time in my experience, we weren't the only white folks doing NGO work in one village. Interesting! We met a fun group of international volunteers working on water projects in the very water-deprived area. Because of the water scarcity, our agriculture group focused on teaching sack gardens, instead of double-dug garden beds, because they conserve so much water while providing such a high yield in a small space. During one of the trainings that week I was holding a Maasai baby when I felt a sudden warmth in my lap. Oh no... "Anakojoa!" Someone take this baby! I was later told that being peed on by a baby means I will soon become pregnant. Excellent...
I spent the following weekend catching up with friends and a huge amount of laundry, since I had been so busy playing host with my folks the week prior. I know I've said this before, but there is something deeply satisfying about washing clothes by hand, and the moment I filled all of our clothes lines entirely with my clothes was a proud moment indeed! (A sweaty one, too) I got mad props from my family, who likes to cheer me on as I am apparently the first volunteer they've ever had who insisted on doing their own laundry without help. I hustled the pool tables hard that weekend, followed by a marriage proposal of course, and had lots of good times with friends. My fellow volunteer (and Saturday night partner in crime) Kelsey and I had gotten into the habit of spending Sunday mornings at Africafe eating more food you ever thought a couple of girls like us could put away. The waiters got to know us, and began smirking in anticipation as they got out their pad to write down our orders.
We returned to Engikaret the next week where we did early morning chicken vaccinations in addition to our normal trainings. It was the Monday that we arrived when I entered into a serious discussion with fellow volunteers Candace and Nora about footwear that I noticed an interesting white spot on the bottom of my left foot. "WHAT is that...!" I exclaimed, fearing the worst. "It's just a blister," Candace assured me. I wasn't convinced. Once we got situated in our guesthouse I asked Musa to take a look at my foot. He gave it a glance and said, "Ah that's not a funza. ... ... Hm. Let me look at it in the light." My impromptu surgeon then requested tools of a pin and a tweezer; it was time to operate. He dug and he dug, and before long the spot in question broke and tiny eggs spilled out. "I killed it!" Musa yelled. "I thought you said it's not a funza!" I yelled in response. The rest of the project was a clean-up and removal operation, and poor Musa's disgusted face didn't find much sympathy in my continuous laughter. How on earth a mzungu managed to get two funzas (let alone one!) in the course of a couple months, I haven't a clue, but the shock was over-- all I could do was laugh!
Although very dry and dusty, Engikaret is a gorgeous village surrounded by such picturesque desert. I enjoyed spending my afternoons kicking the football around with other volunteers or kids in the village, followed by evening walks through the desert on my own. Our guesthouse was right next to a very tall cell phone tower, which proved to be a huge help as I could wander the desert and not worry about getting lost. Once I became far enough from the village to escape the noises of children playing and fundis working, I would find a place to stand still in silence. Once you are still in a place like the desert, you have a chance to observe all the life that scurries away from trampling feet and loud voices. I watched the rabbits, the birds, the lizards, and all the interesting desert plant life. I had such nice, meditative moments being able to witness such a beautiful ecosystem at work and appreciate everything around me.
And with that my friends, I will quit for now. I promise another blog entry soon to bring you fully up to date! Sending best wishes. Until next time...
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Elerai, Nduruma, Olmolog and beyond...
My apologies once again for my neglectful blogging habits, I know many of you worry about me so rest assured I have not been eaten by lions or leopards... although I did have a few chunks of my toe taken from me by some rascal burrowing fly larvae. (Have you ever heard of a jigger? My American friends from the South say chigger. In Swahili we say funza... and if you're a mzungu, you say funza and roaring laughter is sure to follow) More on that later! On with the blog.
I spent the last week of May in Elerai as the solo volunteer, where not even my girl Edita- a local intern who works with us occasionally- was there to keep me company. I was a little unsure about how the week would play out, since we often have a ton of down-time during the afternoons and many GSC staff members like to use that time to hide away in their tents for naptime, or disappear to god knows where. (Can you blame 'em?) However I'm really pleased to say that I had a fantastic week bonding with the crew. We camped in a nearby village, Olmolog, because they were a little more equipped to accommodate us although most of us did camp in tents. There were beautiful views of Mt. Kilimanjaro and the sky at night there was absolutely incredible-- I hadn't had many opportunities in my life to see the night sky in such detail before: shooting stars, the milky way, satellites, the works. In fact I couldn't shut up about the Milky Way... I kept trying to explain what it was to my Tanzanian friends but that required a whole set of vocabulary that none of us really had in the others' language.
My fellow sustainable ag trainer, Ediltruda, was in between hair styles that week so I treated her to an Andi Bruce original style, free of charge. (Special rafiki price! Did you guys know rafiki means friend?) I'm a little ashamed to say I had no idea how hard it was to braid African hair, and my efforts to give her a new style really were... original... but Ediltruda was such a good sport! I told her I was only slightly offended when she put a wrap around her head before we went to eat dinner.
Our driver and my homeboy Musa was also an amazing buddy that week. He could tell when I was getting antsy and would offer to show me some cool. mini-hikes around our camp. He used to be a nature guide of some kind so he's great at identifying plants and animals. One afternoon we went for a walk shortly after some rains and the mud was absurdly sticky... I was wearing flip-flops, and after every few steps my flip-flops became wobbly, gnarled 5-inch platform stilts. No matter how often I scraped the mud off the bottoms, it would accumulate again within a few steps and threatened to suck the sandals right off my feet it was so sticky! I could hardly keep it together, I was a laughing, fumbling mess and I think Musa quickly regretted bringing me along.
That week I wasn't feeling the greatest so I didn't help too much in our double-digging practical. I got lots of "pole sana"s from our participants (an expression of sympathy) and a few women took the opportunity to skip out on some digging by keeping me company, which I selfishly loved. I quickly had a whole new set of Maasai girlfriends asking me all kinds of questions about my family and where I'm from. Their patience with my crappy Swahili was really sweet and one girl in particular was best at understanding what I was trying to say, which was particularly great because Swahili isn't their first language either. One of my favorite questions was, "Why did you leave your Mama in America??" I know, shame on me!!
When I got back from the village on Friday I met a big batch of new volunteers who had been in orientation in Arusha all week. Some were doing short-term projects and have left already, but it's really nice having new friends around the office and in the villages with us. Saturday we did the famous hike on Mt. Meru with our favorite guide Rogers, stopping as always in his mama's boma on our way down the mountantain for a home-cooked lunch straight off the shamba. Rogers is also great at teaching me more Swahili, as well as Maasai, so I had a blast chattin' it up all day long with as little English as possible. I like to tell people I am half Maasai and half Chaga (my homestay family's tribe, originating from Mt. Kili) but definitely not a mzungu...
I spent that weekend hanging out with some of the new volunteers and bonding over games of pool, football on tv, Konyagi, and nyama choma of course. Saturday night there was a huge game on-- Barcelona vs. Man United-- and we watched the game with friends at a giant outdoor bar that was packed beyond capacity. As you could imagine the crowd was rowdy as all hell, and each play was met by animated theatrics from fans on both sides. Every time Barcelona scored a goal, Saning'o stood up and pointed to the opposing fans sitting next to us, obnoxiously chanting "Pole, pole pole pole!" to the tune of the Mexican futbol chant, "Ole, ole ole ole!" I also spent a bunch of time with my family that weekend, where I fell in love with my homestay dada (sister)'s hilarious impressions and surprisingly funny slapstick humor. No doubt that girl could make it big as a stand up comedian.
After a rather uneventful week in Nduruma where I worked with the HA group teaching food drying, I returned to Elerai where we continued our work with the rest of our regular trainings as well as kuku vaccinating. This time though, we had a handfull of the new volunteers with us, and it was fun showing them around. We arrived on Monday June 6, but didn't start work right away. There was a major water shortage after some elephants had apparently trampled the village's water piping. That meant that women in particular had to spend the majority of their day searching for and fetching water for the family to use at home, carrying it miles and miles by foot. Understandably, we didn't have many participants that week. We trained our groups on how to make sack gardens, as opposed to double dug beds, because while both are styles of conservation agriculture, the sack gardens really consume much less water because of their small size. In the afternoons after trainings I often went on beautiful long walks with the other volunteers, or spent my time chatting with the village kids, swapping games and stories. A few in particular were such charmers, I really miss those faces! One in particular I first met on market day. He was probably around 10 years old, riding a bicycle, his face completely covered in white flour-- which he refused to wipe off, of course, and batted and swatted at my attempts to dust his face. He told me his name was Mkapa, which at first our intern Emmanuel told me means "retarded person." I later learned that I just misheard him, and Mkapa is the name of a retired president. Oh, thank god.
After a night out that Saturday with the crew, I spent Sunday with my dada Karen. We needed a ball pump for the football we had bought some time ago, and decided we should also get our toe nails painted. Throughout Arusha you can pay for a traveling manicure/pedicure, from guys who just walk around town carrying a basket of nail polish and manicure tools. When we sat down, Karen insisted that I go first, and we chose to get matching bright pink polish. The man picked up a squirt bottle of soapy water and began by scrubbing and cleaning my toes (a normal first step if you've never had a pedicure before)... but I couldn't help notice his glances up from my feet at either me or my dada. I'm not talking about the types of glances a traveling pedicure man might normally give a young girl getting her nails painted. I'm talking about the type of glances you give a stranger when you suddenly become aware that they have some grave misfortune upon them.. I was getting nervous. When he finally said something to Karen she didn't seem to respond, and continued watching in silence. "What did he say??" I asked. "Nothing..!" she said. Next thing I know, our guy gets up and runs off to bring out the BIG tools. I had no idea what was going on. I knew something was really wrong when he stopped paying attention to my nails and began digging into my right big toe. I kept hearing the word funza, and asked repeatedly, "WHAT is a funza?!" but Karen didn't know the word in English... which in hindsight was probably a really good thing, as I was only slightly aware of what was going on. Eventually the woman next to me says, "Mdudu!" which means BUG!, and I felt my face go pale. Our friend's digging into my toe revealed a larvae about the size of my pinky nail, tucked away cozy and warm in the corner of my big toe. He handed me the damn thing on the end of his metal digging device... I was horrified! Karen and I spent the next hour or so in silence, punctuated by the occasional, "Stop thinking about it!! Try to stop thinking about it!" Haha... I'm pleased to say though, that the event didn't stop me from schooling Nuru, Mama Karen's brother my age, in soccer that evening at home.
For the next week or so I had a blast telling people the news of my funza. From co-workers to villagers participating in our trainings, people find it HILLARIOUS that a mzungu had gotten a funza. Especially those who know I like to call myself Maasai would tell me, "Now you are a real Maasai!" I felt like I had been through initiation. That next week returned to Olmolog where I had a ton of fun playing soccer with my little buddies in the village (using a small ball made out of bundled up plastic bags). There was even a lunar eclipse that week, which was incredible to see.
After an appropriately rowdy weekend with my friends and a nice dinner at my buddy's house Sunday night, I started to feel sick Monday morning. Actually, I was amazed that it took me so long to get sick, part of me thought I might make it through the whole 6 months unscathed by travelers' tummy bugs. But then again, my experience surely would have been incomplete without it. I spent Monday through Wednesday in bed eating very very little, and was blessed with the ability to sleep through most of it. One day when my stomach was at it's worst, Mama came into my room with a tray of a creamy white porridge. She mixed in some milk, lime, and sugar, and told me to eat up. I thanked her profusely but insisted that my stomach was in no condition to withstand food. She considered what I said and suggested, "Well, if you throw up, you can't throw it all up, so eat! It's only porridge, it can't harm you." She turned in the doorway on her way out with a very motherly, "Force yourself!" I nearly cried I was so troubled by the situation. I knew Mama wasn't about to let me skip the porridge, but steaming white goo was the last thing I wanted to put in my mouth. After a few more "Force yourself!!" reminders, I eventually bit the bullet and had at the porridge one bite at a time. Very slowly I worked my way down about an inch in the giant bowl, and to my surprise, my stomach felt more and more at peace. What is it they say, Mama knows best? Believe it or not folks, it's true. Mama's magic porridge saved me and my recovery began at that moment.
That week my US Mom and Dad arrived in Tanzania to visit! They spent their first week on safari while I was home in bed, and I will pick up here with my next blog entry. Thanks everybody for your patience! Another post soon, I promise. xoxoxo
I spent the last week of May in Elerai as the solo volunteer, where not even my girl Edita- a local intern who works with us occasionally- was there to keep me company. I was a little unsure about how the week would play out, since we often have a ton of down-time during the afternoons and many GSC staff members like to use that time to hide away in their tents for naptime, or disappear to god knows where. (Can you blame 'em?) However I'm really pleased to say that I had a fantastic week bonding with the crew. We camped in a nearby village, Olmolog, because they were a little more equipped to accommodate us although most of us did camp in tents. There were beautiful views of Mt. Kilimanjaro and the sky at night there was absolutely incredible-- I hadn't had many opportunities in my life to see the night sky in such detail before: shooting stars, the milky way, satellites, the works. In fact I couldn't shut up about the Milky Way... I kept trying to explain what it was to my Tanzanian friends but that required a whole set of vocabulary that none of us really had in the others' language.
My fellow sustainable ag trainer, Ediltruda, was in between hair styles that week so I treated her to an Andi Bruce original style, free of charge. (Special rafiki price! Did you guys know rafiki means friend?) I'm a little ashamed to say I had no idea how hard it was to braid African hair, and my efforts to give her a new style really were... original... but Ediltruda was such a good sport! I told her I was only slightly offended when she put a wrap around her head before we went to eat dinner.
Our driver and my homeboy Musa was also an amazing buddy that week. He could tell when I was getting antsy and would offer to show me some cool. mini-hikes around our camp. He used to be a nature guide of some kind so he's great at identifying plants and animals. One afternoon we went for a walk shortly after some rains and the mud was absurdly sticky... I was wearing flip-flops, and after every few steps my flip-flops became wobbly, gnarled 5-inch platform stilts. No matter how often I scraped the mud off the bottoms, it would accumulate again within a few steps and threatened to suck the sandals right off my feet it was so sticky! I could hardly keep it together, I was a laughing, fumbling mess and I think Musa quickly regretted bringing me along.
That week I wasn't feeling the greatest so I didn't help too much in our double-digging practical. I got lots of "pole sana"s from our participants (an expression of sympathy) and a few women took the opportunity to skip out on some digging by keeping me company, which I selfishly loved. I quickly had a whole new set of Maasai girlfriends asking me all kinds of questions about my family and where I'm from. Their patience with my crappy Swahili was really sweet and one girl in particular was best at understanding what I was trying to say, which was particularly great because Swahili isn't their first language either. One of my favorite questions was, "Why did you leave your Mama in America??" I know, shame on me!!
When I got back from the village on Friday I met a big batch of new volunteers who had been in orientation in Arusha all week. Some were doing short-term projects and have left already, but it's really nice having new friends around the office and in the villages with us. Saturday we did the famous hike on Mt. Meru with our favorite guide Rogers, stopping as always in his mama's boma on our way down the mountantain for a home-cooked lunch straight off the shamba. Rogers is also great at teaching me more Swahili, as well as Maasai, so I had a blast chattin' it up all day long with as little English as possible. I like to tell people I am half Maasai and half Chaga (my homestay family's tribe, originating from Mt. Kili) but definitely not a mzungu...
I spent that weekend hanging out with some of the new volunteers and bonding over games of pool, football on tv, Konyagi, and nyama choma of course. Saturday night there was a huge game on-- Barcelona vs. Man United-- and we watched the game with friends at a giant outdoor bar that was packed beyond capacity. As you could imagine the crowd was rowdy as all hell, and each play was met by animated theatrics from fans on both sides. Every time Barcelona scored a goal, Saning'o stood up and pointed to the opposing fans sitting next to us, obnoxiously chanting "Pole, pole pole pole!" to the tune of the Mexican futbol chant, "Ole, ole ole ole!" I also spent a bunch of time with my family that weekend, where I fell in love with my homestay dada (sister)'s hilarious impressions and surprisingly funny slapstick humor. No doubt that girl could make it big as a stand up comedian.
After a rather uneventful week in Nduruma where I worked with the HA group teaching food drying, I returned to Elerai where we continued our work with the rest of our regular trainings as well as kuku vaccinating. This time though, we had a handfull of the new volunteers with us, and it was fun showing them around. We arrived on Monday June 6, but didn't start work right away. There was a major water shortage after some elephants had apparently trampled the village's water piping. That meant that women in particular had to spend the majority of their day searching for and fetching water for the family to use at home, carrying it miles and miles by foot. Understandably, we didn't have many participants that week. We trained our groups on how to make sack gardens, as opposed to double dug beds, because while both are styles of conservation agriculture, the sack gardens really consume much less water because of their small size. In the afternoons after trainings I often went on beautiful long walks with the other volunteers, or spent my time chatting with the village kids, swapping games and stories. A few in particular were such charmers, I really miss those faces! One in particular I first met on market day. He was probably around 10 years old, riding a bicycle, his face completely covered in white flour-- which he refused to wipe off, of course, and batted and swatted at my attempts to dust his face. He told me his name was Mkapa, which at first our intern Emmanuel told me means "retarded person." I later learned that I just misheard him, and Mkapa is the name of a retired president. Oh, thank god.
After a night out that Saturday with the crew, I spent Sunday with my dada Karen. We needed a ball pump for the football we had bought some time ago, and decided we should also get our toe nails painted. Throughout Arusha you can pay for a traveling manicure/pedicure, from guys who just walk around town carrying a basket of nail polish and manicure tools. When we sat down, Karen insisted that I go first, and we chose to get matching bright pink polish. The man picked up a squirt bottle of soapy water and began by scrubbing and cleaning my toes (a normal first step if you've never had a pedicure before)... but I couldn't help notice his glances up from my feet at either me or my dada. I'm not talking about the types of glances a traveling pedicure man might normally give a young girl getting her nails painted. I'm talking about the type of glances you give a stranger when you suddenly become aware that they have some grave misfortune upon them.. I was getting nervous. When he finally said something to Karen she didn't seem to respond, and continued watching in silence. "What did he say??" I asked. "Nothing..!" she said. Next thing I know, our guy gets up and runs off to bring out the BIG tools. I had no idea what was going on. I knew something was really wrong when he stopped paying attention to my nails and began digging into my right big toe. I kept hearing the word funza, and asked repeatedly, "WHAT is a funza?!" but Karen didn't know the word in English... which in hindsight was probably a really good thing, as I was only slightly aware of what was going on. Eventually the woman next to me says, "Mdudu!" which means BUG!, and I felt my face go pale. Our friend's digging into my toe revealed a larvae about the size of my pinky nail, tucked away cozy and warm in the corner of my big toe. He handed me the damn thing on the end of his metal digging device... I was horrified! Karen and I spent the next hour or so in silence, punctuated by the occasional, "Stop thinking about it!! Try to stop thinking about it!" Haha... I'm pleased to say though, that the event didn't stop me from schooling Nuru, Mama Karen's brother my age, in soccer that evening at home.
For the next week or so I had a blast telling people the news of my funza. From co-workers to villagers participating in our trainings, people find it HILLARIOUS that a mzungu had gotten a funza. Especially those who know I like to call myself Maasai would tell me, "Now you are a real Maasai!" I felt like I had been through initiation. That next week returned to Olmolog where I had a ton of fun playing soccer with my little buddies in the village (using a small ball made out of bundled up plastic bags). There was even a lunar eclipse that week, which was incredible to see.
After an appropriately rowdy weekend with my friends and a nice dinner at my buddy's house Sunday night, I started to feel sick Monday morning. Actually, I was amazed that it took me so long to get sick, part of me thought I might make it through the whole 6 months unscathed by travelers' tummy bugs. But then again, my experience surely would have been incomplete without it. I spent Monday through Wednesday in bed eating very very little, and was blessed with the ability to sleep through most of it. One day when my stomach was at it's worst, Mama came into my room with a tray of a creamy white porridge. She mixed in some milk, lime, and sugar, and told me to eat up. I thanked her profusely but insisted that my stomach was in no condition to withstand food. She considered what I said and suggested, "Well, if you throw up, you can't throw it all up, so eat! It's only porridge, it can't harm you." She turned in the doorway on her way out with a very motherly, "Force yourself!" I nearly cried I was so troubled by the situation. I knew Mama wasn't about to let me skip the porridge, but steaming white goo was the last thing I wanted to put in my mouth. After a few more "Force yourself!!" reminders, I eventually bit the bullet and had at the porridge one bite at a time. Very slowly I worked my way down about an inch in the giant bowl, and to my surprise, my stomach felt more and more at peace. What is it they say, Mama knows best? Believe it or not folks, it's true. Mama's magic porridge saved me and my recovery began at that moment.
That week my US Mom and Dad arrived in Tanzania to visit! They spent their first week on safari while I was home in bed, and I will pick up here with my next blog entry. Thanks everybody for your patience! Another post soon, I promise. xoxoxo
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Lengijave, Easter, and Enguiki
Hi all, big time apologies for having lagged so much on the blog! I am continuing to have a fabulous time here in Tanzania and I suppose I owe you guys a story or two. It's been way too long, so I'll get right to it...
After Tingatinga, we did our first week in Lengijave, a largely Maasai village not far from Arusha. They told me Lengijave means "Cold Place" in Maasai, but I wasn't sure how cold I could actually expect it to be, considering these were Tanzanians after all. Surprise, surprise! Overcast, windy, and rainy, Lengijave certainly lived up to it's name. One day Molly, a volunteer from Boston, asked me, "Is this what it's like in San Francisco?" Haha... I responded, "Absolutely!" The nice part of being close to Arusha was that we got to have another town week, and as much fun as camping can be, my back appreciates sleeping in a bed now and then. That meant I got to do fun errands with Molly and Leah in the afternoons. It was Molly's last week, so we did some souvenir shopping at the central market, which included a purchase of 20 bags of chai masala to take home as gifts. I also found a cool little sewing shop called Mr. Button where a really nice woman helped me put together my own sewing kit: black thread, white thread, two needles, and a half meter of scrap fabric for patching/reinforcing, all for 800 shillings (about 50 cents).
Because that Sunday was Easter, we had a short week, and only worked in Lengijave until Thursday. We were well-received and the folks seemed to appreciate the trainings we did, although we didn't do the double-digging practical due to rain (DARN...). One man in particular had a lot of really great questions. During the classroom session on chemical fertilizers versus compost, he raised his hand and asked, "If we know how toxic these chemicals are, why does our government let us use them?" I wanted to shout, "I know, right?!" He was visibly bothered and it was rewarding to see the lightbulb turn on above someone's head.
After training and handing out certificates on Thursday, the girls and I met some friends at Arusha City Park (an outdoor bar, not a park) for kuku choma and Konyagi mixed with tonic and Red Bull. There's a whole process along with drinking a bottle of Konyagi. If you want to have a drink at a bar, you order the liquor as well as the mixers you want, all in their own bottles, and you mix it yourself. When you order Konyagi, it is laid down flat on the table, and when the bottle's not in use it stays that way... people will apparently think you are a drunkard if you leave it upright. To open it, you first remove the plastic around the cap, then bang on the bottom of the bottle with the palm of your hand several times, and finally push in on the top of the cap as hard as you can with your thumbs. Then, you may open it with ease. Can you open it without all of these charades? I think so, but I've never tried without the waitress laughing and insisting to do it for me.
Since we had Friday off, we spent lots of time relaxing and socializing. Most of our friends who go to University in Moshi had returned, but not all... even though the semester had started a couple weeks ago at this point. I learned that first-year students are the only ones who show up to school on the first day at Tanzanian universities. This relationship with time and appointments is so African. Saning'o met up with us Friday night and he hadn't even registered for classes yet. No big deal. When it comes down to it, the universities really need the money, so they continue to take people no matter how late they are (although the late comers are in frequent contact with folks in the classes so they know what tests to prepare for when they do actually show up).
That night we started at Babylon, where Saning'o had been waiting for us long enough to accrue some drunk-guy friends who hung around us the entire time we were there. Tanzanian men have a delightfully affectionate way of interacting with each other (especially after a few drinks), which is even more ironic when you consider how horribly homophobic they all are. They hold hands, they put their arms around each other, dance together, rest their hands on the other's leg, etc. My friend Adam calls this "tender touches." From Babylon we went to Empire for pool and reggae music. We went in a friends' car, and when we arrived the guard at the gate wouldn't let us in. I didn't understand what was said in Swahili, but I assumed the complex was closed for some reason. That is until our driver, Josh, busted out of the car, shoved the guard aside, flung open the gate, and drove right on through! Apparently, the guard at the gate was demanding a bribe, and Josh didn't appreciate that! After Empire we stopped for some midnight chipsi mayai on the street (Tanzanian fast food-- fried eggs with french fries mixed in), and made our way to another club for more dancing.
Saturday Leah and I met Molly's mom at one of our favorite lunch spots, affectionately refered to as Space Cadet around the GSC office due to a frequently absent minded waitress there. Her mom had met her in TZ so that they could travel a bit together before returning to the States. It was fun to see one of our American mamas in our bustling African town, and made me so eager to show my own folks around when they come in June. That afternoon Leah and I took Karen swimming at the Impala hotel, which was totally adorable. Karen is so cute and sweet. She needed an innertube (most Tanzanians can't swim) but had a ball splashing around.
Sunday was Easter, and I went to church with Mama Chaulla in the morning. Karen had gone to an earlier children's service, and the rest of the family, I later realized, stayed home all day cooking up a storm! The service lasted about 3 hours-- long, but painless. When we returned, all the mamas were at Mama Franco's house next door, and there were about a half a dozen giant pots strewn all over the yard balancing on top of a variety of kerosene and charcoal stoves. I helped with whatever they'd let me (usually just peeling vegetables), and watched as more and more friends and family arrived. The feast was incredible... rainbow rice (thanks to food coloring), pilau (rice with spices and meat chunks in it), two types of chicken with amazing sauces of spices I often associate with Indian food, fried potatoes, avocado, banana, oranges, pili pili, and a plate of heavily salted cucumbers, tomatoes, and carrots. Mama Franco also made passion-avocado-ginger juice which really grew on me! I sat mostly in silence as the family spoke Swahili to each other, and after some time I said my thank yous and goodbyes and met Adam and Saning'o for a few games of pool. I think this is where my pool playing obsession began. I love it!! The more times I play and the more friends that offer me strategies/advice, the more sucked in I become. At one point that night I made 5 balls in a row and won the game out of nowhere. A hustler in the making, y'all.
Monday Leah and I spent the day exploring, because we had the day off for Easter-- and the next day off for Union Day! (The day Zanzibar united with Tanzania) We visited the very touristy Maasai market, had lunch at Green Hut where I was surprised to find a fried egg on the burger I ordered, and ended at a pool hall called Sundip (pronounced Sun Deep) with Saning'o. To my surprise, the crowd of entirely African men eventually transitioned to entirely Indian men as the evening turned to night. I still haven't quite figured that out. It was a really fun group, and Saning'o thanked me for making him some new friends... they all got a kick out of helping to give me advice, when apparently they never used to greet him in the past. Tuesday we had lunch at a magical restaurant called Mapinduzi (which means Revolution!) that serves up some incredible mbuzi (thats goat) and the most delicious frosty avocado juice, and if you're still hungry when you're done, they refill your plate.
Wednesday through Friday we did not go to a village, but participated in a workshop at the GSC office with a food and nutrition expert named Anne Perera who works with an organization called SIDO. My favorite of all the things we learned that week was how to cook and eat green banana peels, banana blossom, and even banana pith- the inner core of banana tree trunks. To my surprise, it was really tasty, and seems like a great opportunity for increased food security in some of the villages we work with. We also learned how to make candied citrus peels and how to make and jar jam and chutney. Safi sana.
The next week we returned to Lengijave. We typically go to a village two weeks in a row to train different sub-village groups, and also to train community kuku vaccinators the first week and actually do the vaccinating the second. Even though Lengijave was close, this meant we had to camp, because it's not practical to meet up, drive, and arrive at a village by 6am every morning. We stayed in a guesthouse ("gesti") in a nearby town called Mgaramtoni, which was about a 20 minute drive away, and the home of one of our favorite signs in front of a church: "Evangelistic Ass of God." Unfortunately the rest of the town wasn't quite as fun as that sign... the people weren't quite as friendly to visitors as one might hope, and as wazungu Leah and I were harrassed a bit more than usual. It was a really crowded town, for some reason chock full of pikipikis (motorcycle taxis) that couldn't care less if there were people in their path. No wonder on Friday as we were about to leave, one of our staffmembers, Happy, was hit by one on the street! I didn't see it happen, but the poor girl walked away limping, holding her arm, clothes all torn up. It was quite scary actually. We took her straight to the hospital in Arusha. Apparently she was just fine though-- I didn't see her again until Monday, where she joined us for our next training as if nothing had happened... wearing high heels no less.
Although Mgaramtoni was rough, training in Lengijave was great. The people there were really fun and very welcoming, and the village itself was gorgeous. Full of hills and valleys, vaccinating kukus in the morning meant trekking up and down hills to the different bomas in very chilly wind and fog-- but I couldn't complain for a second, it was so gorgeous. I spent the following weekend hanging out with friends, and playing more pool of course. One night we were at Empire again and the power kept going out for several minutes at a time. Within seconds, everyone would pull out their cell phones and shine the lights onto the pool table so the game could continue! The live reggae band would take the opportunity to take a break and mingle with the crowd. That weekend there was a football match between Manchester United and Chelsea-- two of Arusha's favorite teams-- and I'm pretty the entire country was tuned into that game. I knew what time it was supposed to start, but Baba wasn't home at the time, so I thought I'd ask Mama Karen if we could turn it on. Just before I said anything, she looked at the clock and ran over to turn on the TV! It was only Mama Chaulla, Mama Karen, Karen and I home at the time, and we ladies got our football on. My family is so cool. Mama Karen was in the kitchen preparing dinner, but everytime I made a sound she'd rush into the living room to check the replay and cheer if she liked what she saw!
The next Monday we began training in Enguiki village, near the town of Monduli. Enguiki is surrounded by really awesome jungley rainforest, which was my first time seeing that kind of ecosystem in Africa. I didn't get to explore it much, but we kept hearing stories from villagers of encounters with elephants in the early morning. The participants, again, were mostly Maasai, but this group was particularly big on singing and dancing! Totally sweet! The women would start up during down time and it was sometimes hard to get them to stop! Those mamas were very hardworking and really appreciated the practicals, which was nice. They also really liked interacting with me, which is also appreciated! Villagers seem to either really enjoy attempting to communicate with me, or really prefer not to. These mamas even got a kick out of just knowing my name, and when we returned the next week I was greeted with a crowd of women shouting, "Aandi! Andi!!" When we finished our training with certificates on Friday, one of them removed a brightly colored beaded necklace from her neck and placed it over my head. Very sweet.
Camping in Enguiki was a little rough, though. We camped in tents at someone's house since there wasn't a gesti big enough for all of us, but there was no level ground for us to pitch our tents on. We ended up sleeping on very sloped, very rocky ground, which was a bit of a nightmare-- made worse by very heavy wind and rain at night. Fortunately, Leah's and my tent held up just fine, but others woke up a bit soggy in the mornings. Considering it was pretty cold for Leah and I, you can guess how badly the Tanzanian crew froze that week. In fact, during one of our nightly meetings one person brought up the way that we are "risking our lives" camping out there, and suggested that we change accomodations for the next week when we'd return to vaccinate kukus. So, Thursday afternoon after our trainings I went with some of the GSC crew into Monduli to prepare food and lodging for the following week. While walking through town, I spotted a t-shirt that said "usinizingue..." and asked Musa what it meant. After several attempts, he finally found it's English equivalent-- Don't mess with me! This has become one of my favorite phrases, and something of an inside joke with the CFGB crew, always said accompanied by our very best "stink face."
Sadly, that was Leah's last week with GSC, and we spent that weekend running errands for her and making last minute purchases before heading home. We did stop at a book store where I finally bought a decent Swahili-English dictionary, as well as a big world map to assist me in my world-traveling day dreams! I can't stop staring at it. :) We also bought Leah some kangas and kitenges, as well as pretty beaded sandals they sell on the street, which made for a long day of haggling for prices. Having secured some decent Swahili under my belt really helps us get a decent price, although it takes time and is really pretty exhausting. That night I met up with friends for a few games of pool at a small neighborhood bar, where one of the GSC interns Edita met up with us, which was so much fun! This girl is a blast. She and I are really quite different... she's much more "girly" as they say, and a total Tanzanian babe with her rather full figure, but equally sassy in the way we tease and play, so we have such a fun time together.
After lots and lots of laundry on Sunday, I went to Leah's homestay to hang out with her family on her last day. She has a lot of siblings, which is so much fun-- including a completely crazy, entirely un-disciplined 4 year old named Jackie, which ensures a lively good time. Her mama cooked us lunch (ugali for strength for the journey home!) and we ate cake afterward, a gift Leah got for the family at a local pastry shop. All afternoon Jackie would cheerfully call out, "Bye, Leah!" (if she wasn't yelling for cake, that is). Our favorite taxi driver picked us up to take Leah to the airport shuttle, where I said goodbye before dropping at my house. Before I left he confirmed with me, "So, we are still together right? And you are the one with the Swahili?" Haha. And with that, Leah was on her way back to New Jersey, where she hangs out with the Cake Boss and the crew of Jersey Shore every day.
I spent that afternoon at Mama Franco's house, hanging out and getting acquainted with each other's Facebook pages (who knew they had internet?!). She got a kick out of seeing photos of my family back home, and Steve, she thinks you are a total cutie. Before I left she asked me if I drink alcohol... when I said yes, she let out a huge laugh and gave me a big high five. Makes me wonder if there'll be good times to come with Mama Franco...
This last week was our final week in Enguiki, me as the lonely single volunteer for the week. Actually, I wasn't lonely at all, because Edita was with us and she and I had a ton of fun getting to know each other a bit better. It was fun seeing the women from the week prior around the village, who loved to greet me by name and shake my hand. One day I was walking to the choo (toilet) and as I passed by the church, I saw two of our former participants hanging out on the opposite side of the building. At first, I happily started waving, and then I noticed that one of them was peeing in a half-bent, standing position, smiling right back at me with her skirt hiked up so as not to get pee on it. She didn't seem to mind one bit that I, or anyone else for that matter, could see her. On my way back from the choo, she waved again and I called to her, "Ninataka kukojua kama wewe! Siwezi!!" (I want to pee like you! I can't!) We laughed together as I continued on.
It was a fun week, and without other volunteers around I got to spend more time with the GSC crew and the participants. One of our participants spent a lot of time teaching me Kimaasai, the Maasai language, which was a lot of fun. A common question-- both in Swahili and Maasai-- was one of the first I learned: "What is your father's name?" (Irayae Ereng'ay?) The language is really neat. Some of our crew also speaks Maasai, so I was able to practice outside of trainings. I was talking with Joyce one night about the new volunteers who are showing up on Monday, I hear we're getting 7! I'm really eager to hang out with some new people, but not very excited to be part of a group of 8 wazungu walking through town. I'm totally happy to play tourguide, but big groups of wazungu really looks silly and begs for harassment in town. When I told Joyce how I felt about being in a group like that around town, her response was perfect: "Yeah... that's not very impressive..."
Today is Saturday and I had a really nice day, begining with another private Swhaili lesson with Godson. When I first saw him, he said, "I cannot teach you verb tenses today-- I know from your texts you have been studying!!" And truthfully, even I am kind of impressed by how effective learning a language by submission has been... I never would have thought I could pick something up so quickly. We had a nice lesson, and when I went for lunch I met a Japanese univeristy student who was traveling on his own, and had just arrived in Arusha the night before. So, I spent the day taking Kazu through town and gave him a tour of the central market, where I bought him some passion fruit before taking him on the daladala. Anyone can see the tourist sites, but it's hard to brave something as overwhelming as the central market by yourself for the first time, so I was glad he got to have that experience.
Unfortunately though I think I'm coming down with something. Nothing major, I hope, since I've been taking my malaria meds... I think I was just coughed on one too many times by nasty, phlegmy, snot faced children in the village this week. Hoping it passes by Monday before we head out to the next village!
After Tingatinga, we did our first week in Lengijave, a largely Maasai village not far from Arusha. They told me Lengijave means "Cold Place" in Maasai, but I wasn't sure how cold I could actually expect it to be, considering these were Tanzanians after all. Surprise, surprise! Overcast, windy, and rainy, Lengijave certainly lived up to it's name. One day Molly, a volunteer from Boston, asked me, "Is this what it's like in San Francisco?" Haha... I responded, "Absolutely!" The nice part of being close to Arusha was that we got to have another town week, and as much fun as camping can be, my back appreciates sleeping in a bed now and then. That meant I got to do fun errands with Molly and Leah in the afternoons. It was Molly's last week, so we did some souvenir shopping at the central market, which included a purchase of 20 bags of chai masala to take home as gifts. I also found a cool little sewing shop called Mr. Button where a really nice woman helped me put together my own sewing kit: black thread, white thread, two needles, and a half meter of scrap fabric for patching/reinforcing, all for 800 shillings (about 50 cents).
Because that Sunday was Easter, we had a short week, and only worked in Lengijave until Thursday. We were well-received and the folks seemed to appreciate the trainings we did, although we didn't do the double-digging practical due to rain (DARN...). One man in particular had a lot of really great questions. During the classroom session on chemical fertilizers versus compost, he raised his hand and asked, "If we know how toxic these chemicals are, why does our government let us use them?" I wanted to shout, "I know, right?!" He was visibly bothered and it was rewarding to see the lightbulb turn on above someone's head.
After training and handing out certificates on Thursday, the girls and I met some friends at Arusha City Park (an outdoor bar, not a park) for kuku choma and Konyagi mixed with tonic and Red Bull. There's a whole process along with drinking a bottle of Konyagi. If you want to have a drink at a bar, you order the liquor as well as the mixers you want, all in their own bottles, and you mix it yourself. When you order Konyagi, it is laid down flat on the table, and when the bottle's not in use it stays that way... people will apparently think you are a drunkard if you leave it upright. To open it, you first remove the plastic around the cap, then bang on the bottom of the bottle with the palm of your hand several times, and finally push in on the top of the cap as hard as you can with your thumbs. Then, you may open it with ease. Can you open it without all of these charades? I think so, but I've never tried without the waitress laughing and insisting to do it for me.
Since we had Friday off, we spent lots of time relaxing and socializing. Most of our friends who go to University in Moshi had returned, but not all... even though the semester had started a couple weeks ago at this point. I learned that first-year students are the only ones who show up to school on the first day at Tanzanian universities. This relationship with time and appointments is so African. Saning'o met up with us Friday night and he hadn't even registered for classes yet. No big deal. When it comes down to it, the universities really need the money, so they continue to take people no matter how late they are (although the late comers are in frequent contact with folks in the classes so they know what tests to prepare for when they do actually show up).
That night we started at Babylon, where Saning'o had been waiting for us long enough to accrue some drunk-guy friends who hung around us the entire time we were there. Tanzanian men have a delightfully affectionate way of interacting with each other (especially after a few drinks), which is even more ironic when you consider how horribly homophobic they all are. They hold hands, they put their arms around each other, dance together, rest their hands on the other's leg, etc. My friend Adam calls this "tender touches." From Babylon we went to Empire for pool and reggae music. We went in a friends' car, and when we arrived the guard at the gate wouldn't let us in. I didn't understand what was said in Swahili, but I assumed the complex was closed for some reason. That is until our driver, Josh, busted out of the car, shoved the guard aside, flung open the gate, and drove right on through! Apparently, the guard at the gate was demanding a bribe, and Josh didn't appreciate that! After Empire we stopped for some midnight chipsi mayai on the street (Tanzanian fast food-- fried eggs with french fries mixed in), and made our way to another club for more dancing.
Saturday Leah and I met Molly's mom at one of our favorite lunch spots, affectionately refered to as Space Cadet around the GSC office due to a frequently absent minded waitress there. Her mom had met her in TZ so that they could travel a bit together before returning to the States. It was fun to see one of our American mamas in our bustling African town, and made me so eager to show my own folks around when they come in June. That afternoon Leah and I took Karen swimming at the Impala hotel, which was totally adorable. Karen is so cute and sweet. She needed an innertube (most Tanzanians can't swim) but had a ball splashing around.
Sunday was Easter, and I went to church with Mama Chaulla in the morning. Karen had gone to an earlier children's service, and the rest of the family, I later realized, stayed home all day cooking up a storm! The service lasted about 3 hours-- long, but painless. When we returned, all the mamas were at Mama Franco's house next door, and there were about a half a dozen giant pots strewn all over the yard balancing on top of a variety of kerosene and charcoal stoves. I helped with whatever they'd let me (usually just peeling vegetables), and watched as more and more friends and family arrived. The feast was incredible... rainbow rice (thanks to food coloring), pilau (rice with spices and meat chunks in it), two types of chicken with amazing sauces of spices I often associate with Indian food, fried potatoes, avocado, banana, oranges, pili pili, and a plate of heavily salted cucumbers, tomatoes, and carrots. Mama Franco also made passion-avocado-ginger juice which really grew on me! I sat mostly in silence as the family spoke Swahili to each other, and after some time I said my thank yous and goodbyes and met Adam and Saning'o for a few games of pool. I think this is where my pool playing obsession began. I love it!! The more times I play and the more friends that offer me strategies/advice, the more sucked in I become. At one point that night I made 5 balls in a row and won the game out of nowhere. A hustler in the making, y'all.
Monday Leah and I spent the day exploring, because we had the day off for Easter-- and the next day off for Union Day! (The day Zanzibar united with Tanzania) We visited the very touristy Maasai market, had lunch at Green Hut where I was surprised to find a fried egg on the burger I ordered, and ended at a pool hall called Sundip (pronounced Sun Deep) with Saning'o. To my surprise, the crowd of entirely African men eventually transitioned to entirely Indian men as the evening turned to night. I still haven't quite figured that out. It was a really fun group, and Saning'o thanked me for making him some new friends... they all got a kick out of helping to give me advice, when apparently they never used to greet him in the past. Tuesday we had lunch at a magical restaurant called Mapinduzi (which means Revolution!) that serves up some incredible mbuzi (thats goat) and the most delicious frosty avocado juice, and if you're still hungry when you're done, they refill your plate.
Wednesday through Friday we did not go to a village, but participated in a workshop at the GSC office with a food and nutrition expert named Anne Perera who works with an organization called SIDO. My favorite of all the things we learned that week was how to cook and eat green banana peels, banana blossom, and even banana pith- the inner core of banana tree trunks. To my surprise, it was really tasty, and seems like a great opportunity for increased food security in some of the villages we work with. We also learned how to make candied citrus peels and how to make and jar jam and chutney. Safi sana.
The next week we returned to Lengijave. We typically go to a village two weeks in a row to train different sub-village groups, and also to train community kuku vaccinators the first week and actually do the vaccinating the second. Even though Lengijave was close, this meant we had to camp, because it's not practical to meet up, drive, and arrive at a village by 6am every morning. We stayed in a guesthouse ("gesti") in a nearby town called Mgaramtoni, which was about a 20 minute drive away, and the home of one of our favorite signs in front of a church: "Evangelistic Ass of God." Unfortunately the rest of the town wasn't quite as fun as that sign... the people weren't quite as friendly to visitors as one might hope, and as wazungu Leah and I were harrassed a bit more than usual. It was a really crowded town, for some reason chock full of pikipikis (motorcycle taxis) that couldn't care less if there were people in their path. No wonder on Friday as we were about to leave, one of our staffmembers, Happy, was hit by one on the street! I didn't see it happen, but the poor girl walked away limping, holding her arm, clothes all torn up. It was quite scary actually. We took her straight to the hospital in Arusha. Apparently she was just fine though-- I didn't see her again until Monday, where she joined us for our next training as if nothing had happened... wearing high heels no less.
Although Mgaramtoni was rough, training in Lengijave was great. The people there were really fun and very welcoming, and the village itself was gorgeous. Full of hills and valleys, vaccinating kukus in the morning meant trekking up and down hills to the different bomas in very chilly wind and fog-- but I couldn't complain for a second, it was so gorgeous. I spent the following weekend hanging out with friends, and playing more pool of course. One night we were at Empire again and the power kept going out for several minutes at a time. Within seconds, everyone would pull out their cell phones and shine the lights onto the pool table so the game could continue! The live reggae band would take the opportunity to take a break and mingle with the crowd. That weekend there was a football match between Manchester United and Chelsea-- two of Arusha's favorite teams-- and I'm pretty the entire country was tuned into that game. I knew what time it was supposed to start, but Baba wasn't home at the time, so I thought I'd ask Mama Karen if we could turn it on. Just before I said anything, she looked at the clock and ran over to turn on the TV! It was only Mama Chaulla, Mama Karen, Karen and I home at the time, and we ladies got our football on. My family is so cool. Mama Karen was in the kitchen preparing dinner, but everytime I made a sound she'd rush into the living room to check the replay and cheer if she liked what she saw!
The next Monday we began training in Enguiki village, near the town of Monduli. Enguiki is surrounded by really awesome jungley rainforest, which was my first time seeing that kind of ecosystem in Africa. I didn't get to explore it much, but we kept hearing stories from villagers of encounters with elephants in the early morning. The participants, again, were mostly Maasai, but this group was particularly big on singing and dancing! Totally sweet! The women would start up during down time and it was sometimes hard to get them to stop! Those mamas were very hardworking and really appreciated the practicals, which was nice. They also really liked interacting with me, which is also appreciated! Villagers seem to either really enjoy attempting to communicate with me, or really prefer not to. These mamas even got a kick out of just knowing my name, and when we returned the next week I was greeted with a crowd of women shouting, "Aandi! Andi!!" When we finished our training with certificates on Friday, one of them removed a brightly colored beaded necklace from her neck and placed it over my head. Very sweet.
Camping in Enguiki was a little rough, though. We camped in tents at someone's house since there wasn't a gesti big enough for all of us, but there was no level ground for us to pitch our tents on. We ended up sleeping on very sloped, very rocky ground, which was a bit of a nightmare-- made worse by very heavy wind and rain at night. Fortunately, Leah's and my tent held up just fine, but others woke up a bit soggy in the mornings. Considering it was pretty cold for Leah and I, you can guess how badly the Tanzanian crew froze that week. In fact, during one of our nightly meetings one person brought up the way that we are "risking our lives" camping out there, and suggested that we change accomodations for the next week when we'd return to vaccinate kukus. So, Thursday afternoon after our trainings I went with some of the GSC crew into Monduli to prepare food and lodging for the following week. While walking through town, I spotted a t-shirt that said "usinizingue..." and asked Musa what it meant. After several attempts, he finally found it's English equivalent-- Don't mess with me! This has become one of my favorite phrases, and something of an inside joke with the CFGB crew, always said accompanied by our very best "stink face."
Sadly, that was Leah's last week with GSC, and we spent that weekend running errands for her and making last minute purchases before heading home. We did stop at a book store where I finally bought a decent Swahili-English dictionary, as well as a big world map to assist me in my world-traveling day dreams! I can't stop staring at it. :) We also bought Leah some kangas and kitenges, as well as pretty beaded sandals they sell on the street, which made for a long day of haggling for prices. Having secured some decent Swahili under my belt really helps us get a decent price, although it takes time and is really pretty exhausting. That night I met up with friends for a few games of pool at a small neighborhood bar, where one of the GSC interns Edita met up with us, which was so much fun! This girl is a blast. She and I are really quite different... she's much more "girly" as they say, and a total Tanzanian babe with her rather full figure, but equally sassy in the way we tease and play, so we have such a fun time together.
After lots and lots of laundry on Sunday, I went to Leah's homestay to hang out with her family on her last day. She has a lot of siblings, which is so much fun-- including a completely crazy, entirely un-disciplined 4 year old named Jackie, which ensures a lively good time. Her mama cooked us lunch (ugali for strength for the journey home!) and we ate cake afterward, a gift Leah got for the family at a local pastry shop. All afternoon Jackie would cheerfully call out, "Bye, Leah!" (if she wasn't yelling for cake, that is). Our favorite taxi driver picked us up to take Leah to the airport shuttle, where I said goodbye before dropping at my house. Before I left he confirmed with me, "So, we are still together right? And you are the one with the Swahili?" Haha. And with that, Leah was on her way back to New Jersey, where she hangs out with the Cake Boss and the crew of Jersey Shore every day.
I spent that afternoon at Mama Franco's house, hanging out and getting acquainted with each other's Facebook pages (who knew they had internet?!). She got a kick out of seeing photos of my family back home, and Steve, she thinks you are a total cutie. Before I left she asked me if I drink alcohol... when I said yes, she let out a huge laugh and gave me a big high five. Makes me wonder if there'll be good times to come with Mama Franco...
This last week was our final week in Enguiki, me as the lonely single volunteer for the week. Actually, I wasn't lonely at all, because Edita was with us and she and I had a ton of fun getting to know each other a bit better. It was fun seeing the women from the week prior around the village, who loved to greet me by name and shake my hand. One day I was walking to the choo (toilet) and as I passed by the church, I saw two of our former participants hanging out on the opposite side of the building. At first, I happily started waving, and then I noticed that one of them was peeing in a half-bent, standing position, smiling right back at me with her skirt hiked up so as not to get pee on it. She didn't seem to mind one bit that I, or anyone else for that matter, could see her. On my way back from the choo, she waved again and I called to her, "Ninataka kukojua kama wewe! Siwezi!!" (I want to pee like you! I can't!) We laughed together as I continued on.
It was a fun week, and without other volunteers around I got to spend more time with the GSC crew and the participants. One of our participants spent a lot of time teaching me Kimaasai, the Maasai language, which was a lot of fun. A common question-- both in Swahili and Maasai-- was one of the first I learned: "What is your father's name?" (Irayae Ereng'ay?) The language is really neat. Some of our crew also speaks Maasai, so I was able to practice outside of trainings. I was talking with Joyce one night about the new volunteers who are showing up on Monday, I hear we're getting 7! I'm really eager to hang out with some new people, but not very excited to be part of a group of 8 wazungu walking through town. I'm totally happy to play tourguide, but big groups of wazungu really looks silly and begs for harassment in town. When I told Joyce how I felt about being in a group like that around town, her response was perfect: "Yeah... that's not very impressive..."
Today is Saturday and I had a really nice day, begining with another private Swhaili lesson with Godson. When I first saw him, he said, "I cannot teach you verb tenses today-- I know from your texts you have been studying!!" And truthfully, even I am kind of impressed by how effective learning a language by submission has been... I never would have thought I could pick something up so quickly. We had a nice lesson, and when I went for lunch I met a Japanese univeristy student who was traveling on his own, and had just arrived in Arusha the night before. So, I spent the day taking Kazu through town and gave him a tour of the central market, where I bought him some passion fruit before taking him on the daladala. Anyone can see the tourist sites, but it's hard to brave something as overwhelming as the central market by yourself for the first time, so I was glad he got to have that experience.
Unfortunately though I think I'm coming down with something. Nothing major, I hope, since I've been taking my malaria meds... I think I was just coughed on one too many times by nasty, phlegmy, snot faced children in the village this week. Hoping it passes by Monday before we head out to the next village!
Monday, April 18, 2011
From "Cool Place" to "the Wop Wops"
I'm pleased to say our week in Saitabau wrapped up pretty well. It was nice to be able to return to Arusha every day, because afternoons in the village kind of drag sometimes. On Thursday Leah and I went to lunch with Morgan, and loved the fact that we introduced him to one of our common lunch spots that he had never been to. He then showed us a public park in an area called Uzunguni (within Arusha), where the houses are beautiful, the trees are tall, and the streets are clean. Uzunguni was formerly populated with mostly wazungu (I hear many have since moved away, but the area remains relatively posh in contrast to the rest of the city), which is where it got its name... although when we asked that day, Morgan told us that Uzunguni means "Cool Place." We joked that we were introducing him to another of our spots, since he was the outsider to Uzunguni. It was nice to relax in an outdoor public area without being harassed, something I'm sure we can thank Morgan's presence for... unless of course you count stares as harassment. He tells us we make him famous.
The discovery of Uzunguni was actually quite nice, because there are some really nice "mzungu restaurants" there, as well as a really pretty (and quiet) walk I can take from my house to the center of town. I'm interested to see what the Chinese restaurant here is like! We had dinner in the area on Friday night, and the girls and I spent Saturday afternoon in the park again with some of our GSC interns. Leah and I spent that morning at a giant used clothing market where I picked up a few extra long skirts for village trainings-- it's always fun to make those transactions in Swahili. Since the interns like to treat us to nyama choma and Konyagi (grilled meat and local gin), we decided to treat them to a mzungu dinner at Njiro that night. There are several menus there you can order off of, so we decided to try Mexican food. I wish I had a picture of the guys' faces when they tried burritos for the first time... granted, they weren't the best burritos I've ever had, but those boys looked like they bit into a dirty diaper. It's so interesting how significantly a person's palate is molded by the foods they grow up eating! Poor guys. They were good sports.
This last week we camped at the furthest, most remote village GSC works with in Tanzania, called Tingatinga (as Jenaya puts it-- it's out in the Wop Wops). We stayed at a local mama's house, but slept in a tent outside because there were so many of us. The house was actually really beautiful, my guess is that they were the most well-to-do family in town. Our tent was next to their small shamba of beans and corn (HOORAY, intercropping!) and the rest of the house was surrounded by beautiful trees, including pomegranate, orange, avocado, and mango trees. As lovely as the house was (and as comparatively well-off we guessed the family to be), it was startling to witness how sick one of the kids was, while little attention seemed to be paid to his condition. The water we were given to shower with was always brown and there was a serious fly infestation around town... I think these factors might have contributed to the boy's illness. Pardon the graphic nature of this story, but the boy must have been about 3 years old and he would periodically (and seemingly uncontrollably) drop his pants wherever he was and suffered from completely white diarrhea. Quite startling. Coincidentally, I left Tingatinga with some scratched-open bug bites that were badly infected, swollen with pus. Oy.
But on a lighter note, there was another boy who lived there named Lukman who was about 10 and loooved hanging out with us during down time (of which there was plenty). Tanzanians love a card game called Last Card (last kardi) and Lukman begged us to play with him every single day. The girls helped me attempt to teach some of the guys how to play Thirteen with marginal success. The trees around the house made for an excellent outdoor meeting area, where the different programs would get together to have our nightly meeting, and it was a nice hang-out spot for socializing. One night the boys were preparing for a football game by having a few beers (I guess there was a bar with a TV not far from the house) and, perhaps encouraged by the drinks, Soningo and Ben demonstrated some Maasai singing and dancing for us. So awesome!
The actual training in Tingatinga was just okay. We didn't have a very good turn-out for SA, so we struggled with attendence quite a bit. It was my first week with CFGB though, got to teach with Ediltruda, the woman who trained me during orientation, which was really great. She's so nice and encouraging, not only with learning the methods but also with learning Swahili. One of the participants, Monika, was closer to my age and really enjoyed avoiding doing work on practical days by teaching me Swahili as well. I must admit, I selfishly loved it, but I'm not sure everyone else appreciated double digging a person short. This was also my first week doing chicken vaccinating in the mornings. We woke up at 5:30am and trained community members on how to vaccinate chickens against New Castle Disease, which is a big problem among chickens around the world. All you have to do is put one drop of the liquid in their eye every three months. GSC does the first round for free as they train the community members, then they allow the community vaccinators to set their own price to do the next administrations themselves. Tingatinga has many Maasai villages, so there weren't too many chickens to vaccinate (they mostly keep cattle) but it was a good introduction. And roosters are scary.
On Friday, we were told of a "short cut" back to Arusha, which consisted of our Jeep following tire tracks through the bush in a completely unmarked area. We left at around 4pm, and Soningo bet me that we would return by 5:30... I was sure that we wouldn't. The wager was one drink. By shortly after 5pm our path led us through Arusha National Park, where we saw a few groups of giraffe. We were nearly home! When we reached the gate to exit the park, the guards spotted the wazungu in the truck and refused to let us pass. After several minutes of negotiation and a very angry Musa (our driver), we turned around and found an alternate route through rural shambas and small villages. We arrived in Arusha around 7:45 that night. After that long in a cramped Jeep I was really ready for that drink!! The girls and I had our traditional Friday night pizza though, and called it a night after that. We were exhausted. Saturday we went to Arusha Coffee Lodge, a very mzungu (read: "fancy") resort next to a coffee shamba. We had a nice lunch there and lounged by the pool during the day. We spent that night once again with the interns, where I finally got my drink!, begining at a bar called Babylon (ironically, not a mzungu place, if you are a reggae fan) where we watched a Manchester United game. We ended the night at Maasai Camp for pool and dancing, which was a blast.
Sunday was nice and relaxing, begining with a home-cooked breakfast at Jenaya's house, and ending with a 3 hour nap at my homestay. I've come to really enjoy quiet Sundays, where I tend to wash my clothes outside in the late afternoon with my radio on a local station. There's something about the afternoon sun combined with the breeze that makes hand-washing clothes outside so completely enjoyable. Quite meditative, actually.
Until next weekend!
The discovery of Uzunguni was actually quite nice, because there are some really nice "mzungu restaurants" there, as well as a really pretty (and quiet) walk I can take from my house to the center of town. I'm interested to see what the Chinese restaurant here is like! We had dinner in the area on Friday night, and the girls and I spent Saturday afternoon in the park again with some of our GSC interns. Leah and I spent that morning at a giant used clothing market where I picked up a few extra long skirts for village trainings-- it's always fun to make those transactions in Swahili. Since the interns like to treat us to nyama choma and Konyagi (grilled meat and local gin), we decided to treat them to a mzungu dinner at Njiro that night. There are several menus there you can order off of, so we decided to try Mexican food. I wish I had a picture of the guys' faces when they tried burritos for the first time... granted, they weren't the best burritos I've ever had, but those boys looked like they bit into a dirty diaper. It's so interesting how significantly a person's palate is molded by the foods they grow up eating! Poor guys. They were good sports.
This last week we camped at the furthest, most remote village GSC works with in Tanzania, called Tingatinga (as Jenaya puts it-- it's out in the Wop Wops). We stayed at a local mama's house, but slept in a tent outside because there were so many of us. The house was actually really beautiful, my guess is that they were the most well-to-do family in town. Our tent was next to their small shamba of beans and corn (HOORAY, intercropping!) and the rest of the house was surrounded by beautiful trees, including pomegranate, orange, avocado, and mango trees. As lovely as the house was (and as comparatively well-off we guessed the family to be), it was startling to witness how sick one of the kids was, while little attention seemed to be paid to his condition. The water we were given to shower with was always brown and there was a serious fly infestation around town... I think these factors might have contributed to the boy's illness. Pardon the graphic nature of this story, but the boy must have been about 3 years old and he would periodically (and seemingly uncontrollably) drop his pants wherever he was and suffered from completely white diarrhea. Quite startling. Coincidentally, I left Tingatinga with some scratched-open bug bites that were badly infected, swollen with pus. Oy.
But on a lighter note, there was another boy who lived there named Lukman who was about 10 and loooved hanging out with us during down time (of which there was plenty). Tanzanians love a card game called Last Card (last kardi) and Lukman begged us to play with him every single day. The girls helped me attempt to teach some of the guys how to play Thirteen with marginal success. The trees around the house made for an excellent outdoor meeting area, where the different programs would get together to have our nightly meeting, and it was a nice hang-out spot for socializing. One night the boys were preparing for a football game by having a few beers (I guess there was a bar with a TV not far from the house) and, perhaps encouraged by the drinks, Soningo and Ben demonstrated some Maasai singing and dancing for us. So awesome!
The actual training in Tingatinga was just okay. We didn't have a very good turn-out for SA, so we struggled with attendence quite a bit. It was my first week with CFGB though, got to teach with Ediltruda, the woman who trained me during orientation, which was really great. She's so nice and encouraging, not only with learning the methods but also with learning Swahili. One of the participants, Monika, was closer to my age and really enjoyed avoiding doing work on practical days by teaching me Swahili as well. I must admit, I selfishly loved it, but I'm not sure everyone else appreciated double digging a person short. This was also my first week doing chicken vaccinating in the mornings. We woke up at 5:30am and trained community members on how to vaccinate chickens against New Castle Disease, which is a big problem among chickens around the world. All you have to do is put one drop of the liquid in their eye every three months. GSC does the first round for free as they train the community members, then they allow the community vaccinators to set their own price to do the next administrations themselves. Tingatinga has many Maasai villages, so there weren't too many chickens to vaccinate (they mostly keep cattle) but it was a good introduction. And roosters are scary.
On Friday, we were told of a "short cut" back to Arusha, which consisted of our Jeep following tire tracks through the bush in a completely unmarked area. We left at around 4pm, and Soningo bet me that we would return by 5:30... I was sure that we wouldn't. The wager was one drink. By shortly after 5pm our path led us through Arusha National Park, where we saw a few groups of giraffe. We were nearly home! When we reached the gate to exit the park, the guards spotted the wazungu in the truck and refused to let us pass. After several minutes of negotiation and a very angry Musa (our driver), we turned around and found an alternate route through rural shambas and small villages. We arrived in Arusha around 7:45 that night. After that long in a cramped Jeep I was really ready for that drink!! The girls and I had our traditional Friday night pizza though, and called it a night after that. We were exhausted. Saturday we went to Arusha Coffee Lodge, a very mzungu (read: "fancy") resort next to a coffee shamba. We had a nice lunch there and lounged by the pool during the day. We spent that night once again with the interns, where I finally got my drink!, begining at a bar called Babylon (ironically, not a mzungu place, if you are a reggae fan) where we watched a Manchester United game. We ended the night at Maasai Camp for pool and dancing, which was a blast.
Sunday was nice and relaxing, begining with a home-cooked breakfast at Jenaya's house, and ending with a 3 hour nap at my homestay. I've come to really enjoy quiet Sundays, where I tend to wash my clothes outside in the late afternoon with my radio on a local station. There's something about the afternoon sun combined with the breeze that makes hand-washing clothes outside so completely enjoyable. Quite meditative, actually.
Until next weekend!
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Migombani, Saitabau, and Arusha Adventures
This week we are working in a village called Saitabau, which is close enough to Arusha to return to town every afternoon! (We call this a "town week") I apologize to all my fans for the lack of a post this last weekend, but I knew I'd be around this week to update. So let me back up a bit...
The last weekend I posted a blog, the girls and I checked out a hostel called Arusha Backpackers, which turned out to be an excellent spot for overnight accommodations. Pretty cheap, decent rooms, lots of travelers, and free breakfast in the morning... not to mention a rooftop bar! We spent the night there for a fun night together, and we all went to church with Molly the next morning. I really appreciated the sense of community at Arusha Community Church. There was time for chai and socializing after the service, and everyone was so welcoming to me. I didn't really feel a connection with the service, so I don't think I will continue to go, but I was glad to have experienced it. Afterward I went home to scoop up Karen and we had Ethiopian food with some GSC folks, then on to the circus, Mama Afrika, which was full of dancing and fancy acrobatics (no animals), which was great. Has anyone seen that Bela Fleck doc "Throw Down Your Heart?" I saw at the circus one of the musicians he plays with, the blind thumb piano player! He wasn't performing, and I only saw him for a minute, but I really had to fight myself not to jump up and down screaming like I was 13 and he was a member of the Backstreet Boys or something. Suuuuch a dork...
Monday we set off for Migombani. We heard that the Vice President of Tanzania was going to be in town that day, so they cancelled the first day's training because there was no doubt we would have been the only ones to show up. But, we were pleased to find that our guesthouse was top notch! Giant mosquito nets, hot showers, fans in our rooms, squat toilets that flushed, and even trash cans! We were so spoiled. The food was great, too-- we got avocado (parachichi) with every meal, hallelujah!
The SA folks had a rough time in Migombani because none of the farmers were really willing or able to break from farming to meet for the trainings, due to the season, but I happened to have agreed to work with the food drying group that week anyway. It was a great experience. We began by meeting our participants on Tuesday in a classroom, and introduced food drying and its benefits. A good introductory session, and our intern Morgan was a great translator. We tend to have afternoons free so I bought myself my very first kanga wrap-- excellent for in and out of showers, and especially for impromptu skirts or aprons when the situation calls for them. Wednesday we met at one of the mamas houses to begin teaching how to build the food dryers, and the participants brought really great materials, as we had asked them to do. They picked up the technique in a snap, and easily built several dryers in only a couple hours! The last time I helped with teaching how to build food dryers, the participants were all Masaai, and they have much less experience with basic tools like a hammer and nails. Thus, it is a much slower process. These participants were farmers and knew exactly what they were doing, which was quite nice for us!
After building food dryers on Wednesday, we went to help the GSC Appropriate Technology (AT) crew construct a grain storage device out of concrete at one of the participants' houses. I had never built anything out of concrete before, so it was really cool to see how it's done, and I've now got serious respect for folks who slap on concrete to horizontal structures like it's nothin'! Not easy. We were trying to get the base layer of concrete on while grave looking rainclouds taunted us in the background. We didn't quite finish before we had to duck inside to wait out a shower or two in the mama's house. It came down pretty hard, but we managed to keep the concrete dry enough to finish and leave by the early afternoon. We walked down the road toward the Jeep when our work was done, and soon approached a small crowd of villagers standing before a raging river, maybe 10 feet wide. On the other side, was our Jeep. It's amazing the amount of water those rains had brought!! It was definitely not safe to cross, and the folks standing around clearly didn't know how to handle the situation. We were then told there was a way to cross, so we followed some locals through a banana shamba to a jenky irrigation bridge, itself flowing with about 6 inches of water, that crossed the rushing river. We took off our shoes and socks, said some silent prayers I'm sure, and made our way across the slippery metal contraption. Only one person slipped, no one fell overboard, and thankfully we all made it across alive! I think we were all quite relieved.
When we returned to the guesthouse, I spotted some young boys in the front yard of a house across the street playing with a flat football (soccer ball, you Americans). I dropped my stuff inside and of course, all eyes were on me as soon as I approached them. "Na weza kucheza?" I asked. (Can I play?) Those kids were thrilled. They didn't speak much English, but we worked out some games through a combination of English, Swahili, and sign language. They were quite impressed with me! The mama came out of the house after a minute, and her English was quite good. She spoke to me and asked me questions while she watched us play. When I told her, yes, women do play football in America, she laughed out loud in amusement. Who knew! We quickly acquired more kids who wanted to play football with the crazy mzungu girl, as well as crowds of spectators that came and went, but the game ended when Mama announced it was bath time. So cute...
Thursday we showed our participants how to prepare food for drying, which is slicing them very thinly (after washing them of course, another aspect that we teach). We dried red onions, greens, and carrots. We had so much time after the food prep that our participants made even more dryers, including a super jumbo one! The house we were training at had a lot of animals, which I always love. Goats, sheep, chickens, ducks, a dog, and some cats. I definitely stand out by how enamored I become by the animals, the people just do not relate with that kind of affection toward them. It's quite hard for me to deal with, actually. One of the cats there was obviously sick. Cats are so good at personal hygeine that when you see a cat that looks mangy and unkempt, it's a classic singal that she is not well. The people definitely did not understand this, and resented the cat for looking so ugly. As it hunched over huffing and puffing, the women would kick or swat at it. Morgan once translated for me that one of the women wanted to throw it in the river, but I think he stopped translating those comments once he saw my reaction. So, so tragic.
By Friday, much of the food we had dried was complete, so we trained our participants on how to store it, and best of all, how to rehydrate it and cook it. There was a whole lot of skepticism, and people were becoming highly critical as they watched us soak the dried veggies. But sure enough, once it was done, everyone was blown away- it really tastes great. They told us how pleased they were, and that they would definitely continue to use their food dryers. We all found it to be such a gratifying experience, until after we handed out certificates and exchanged thank yous and goodbyes, they asked us for money in exchange for the time they had wasted in our training all week. OUCH. Apparently, this is quite common. Many NGOs working in Tanzania have made a habit of hanging out "sitting allowances," and as a result, people often expect hand-outs on top of the free trainings and materials. It's a big problem and it felt slightly disheartening, but I do think the people will benefit from this technology, so I'm glad for that.
Saturday I had my first out-of-pocket Swahili lesson with Godson, which was great. I then went on a mission to buy an outlet converter on the street for 2,000 Tsh, which I was told was a fair price ahead of time. The first prices I was given were 10,000, then 8,000, then 6, then 5. I was really eager for the challenge and the opportunity to test my Swahili. It took several attempts and many street vendors, but finally (with Molly's help) I got one for 2,000! It was a proud moment, but the real accomplishment will be when I get the price I want all by myself. :) That night the three of us girls went out with some of our college interns from GSC. They took us to an outdoor bar/restaurant for Konyagi and kuku choma (the local liquor of choice, and grilled chicken), followed by a popular international nightclub called Masaai Camp for more Konyagi, pool, and dancing. It was a really fun night! I've never been proposed to so many times. Except for in the villages maybe. Haha
We stayed at Arusha Backpackers again that night, so after breakfast in the morning we parted ways and I spent Sunday evening with Karen. She helped me buy a small radio and a football, and we spent the evening in the back garden playing with family and neighbors. I also went on a small excursion to the grocery store around the corner and made friends with more of my neighborhood vendors, which is a nice feeling.
This Monday we began training at Saitabau, which is going quite nicely. This time we are training in BIA, and the classroom sessions have gone as smoothly as you could hope for, complete with a marriage proposal at the end. Today we did a double-dug bed practical, and tomorrow we'll create a compost heap.
Last night I spent some time in the office uploading Facebook pictures, and I realized it had gotten dark by the time I was ready to leave. It was only 7:15 or so, but as the sun had gone down, the shortcut I usually take through an apartment complex was locked and my walk home jumped from 15 minutes to at least 30. Oy... I felt plenty safe, even though it was dark, because it was still early and there were lots of people around. Still, it was my first long walk in the dark on my own, so I wanted to walk at a brisk pace. I managed to get within a couple minutes of my house, when I hear, "Hello, miss!" It was Morgan! He was out for a walk with a friend of his and spotted me on the street amongst the masses. (I guess it's not that hard when you're the only white girl on the street... I must glow in the dark) He invited me to dinner with them, and I was happy spend some extra time with friends. It couldn't have been 5 minutes later that, when in the middle of a sentence, I walked straight into about 6 inches of soft, gooshy mud. "Ooohh!! Pole, Andi!!" they both managed in between bursts of laughter. Pole, an expression of sympathy, is an extremely common phrase here. My ag vocab came in handy when I said that it looked like I had walked into a pile of manure, which couldn't have been more accurate. Morgan led me to a nearby shoe salesman, and spoke some words in Swahili. Shoe salesmen in TZ generally acquire second hand shoes, scrub them clean, and sell them on the street. The man was so nice, and was happy to offer me buckets of water, and kept sprinkling powdered soap on my feet as Morgan helped scrub them clean. He kept saying, "Hamnashida! No problem! Tanzania is about peace and love, you know!" Morgan's friend Sydney took photos while laughing all the while. What a mzungu I am.
Dinner with the guys afterward was lovely, and Baba Karen (Karen's dad) was still up when I got home watching a football game. We watched the game together before heading to bed, and I'm pleased to announce my sandals are dry today. :) It's been a fun week and a half since I posted last, and I am becoming more and more comfortable in this city. The more I get to know people and places, the more it feels like home, and it helps that my Swahili is really coming along, too. I believe I will be camping next week, so the next blog post may wait until the weekend after this one. In the meantime, enjoy the photos I was finally able to upload! :)
The last weekend I posted a blog, the girls and I checked out a hostel called Arusha Backpackers, which turned out to be an excellent spot for overnight accommodations. Pretty cheap, decent rooms, lots of travelers, and free breakfast in the morning... not to mention a rooftop bar! We spent the night there for a fun night together, and we all went to church with Molly the next morning. I really appreciated the sense of community at Arusha Community Church. There was time for chai and socializing after the service, and everyone was so welcoming to me. I didn't really feel a connection with the service, so I don't think I will continue to go, but I was glad to have experienced it. Afterward I went home to scoop up Karen and we had Ethiopian food with some GSC folks, then on to the circus, Mama Afrika, which was full of dancing and fancy acrobatics (no animals), which was great. Has anyone seen that Bela Fleck doc "Throw Down Your Heart?" I saw at the circus one of the musicians he plays with, the blind thumb piano player! He wasn't performing, and I only saw him for a minute, but I really had to fight myself not to jump up and down screaming like I was 13 and he was a member of the Backstreet Boys or something. Suuuuch a dork...
Monday we set off for Migombani. We heard that the Vice President of Tanzania was going to be in town that day, so they cancelled the first day's training because there was no doubt we would have been the only ones to show up. But, we were pleased to find that our guesthouse was top notch! Giant mosquito nets, hot showers, fans in our rooms, squat toilets that flushed, and even trash cans! We were so spoiled. The food was great, too-- we got avocado (parachichi) with every meal, hallelujah!
The SA folks had a rough time in Migombani because none of the farmers were really willing or able to break from farming to meet for the trainings, due to the season, but I happened to have agreed to work with the food drying group that week anyway. It was a great experience. We began by meeting our participants on Tuesday in a classroom, and introduced food drying and its benefits. A good introductory session, and our intern Morgan was a great translator. We tend to have afternoons free so I bought myself my very first kanga wrap-- excellent for in and out of showers, and especially for impromptu skirts or aprons when the situation calls for them. Wednesday we met at one of the mamas houses to begin teaching how to build the food dryers, and the participants brought really great materials, as we had asked them to do. They picked up the technique in a snap, and easily built several dryers in only a couple hours! The last time I helped with teaching how to build food dryers, the participants were all Masaai, and they have much less experience with basic tools like a hammer and nails. Thus, it is a much slower process. These participants were farmers and knew exactly what they were doing, which was quite nice for us!
After building food dryers on Wednesday, we went to help the GSC Appropriate Technology (AT) crew construct a grain storage device out of concrete at one of the participants' houses. I had never built anything out of concrete before, so it was really cool to see how it's done, and I've now got serious respect for folks who slap on concrete to horizontal structures like it's nothin'! Not easy. We were trying to get the base layer of concrete on while grave looking rainclouds taunted us in the background. We didn't quite finish before we had to duck inside to wait out a shower or two in the mama's house. It came down pretty hard, but we managed to keep the concrete dry enough to finish and leave by the early afternoon. We walked down the road toward the Jeep when our work was done, and soon approached a small crowd of villagers standing before a raging river, maybe 10 feet wide. On the other side, was our Jeep. It's amazing the amount of water those rains had brought!! It was definitely not safe to cross, and the folks standing around clearly didn't know how to handle the situation. We were then told there was a way to cross, so we followed some locals through a banana shamba to a jenky irrigation bridge, itself flowing with about 6 inches of water, that crossed the rushing river. We took off our shoes and socks, said some silent prayers I'm sure, and made our way across the slippery metal contraption. Only one person slipped, no one fell overboard, and thankfully we all made it across alive! I think we were all quite relieved.
When we returned to the guesthouse, I spotted some young boys in the front yard of a house across the street playing with a flat football (soccer ball, you Americans). I dropped my stuff inside and of course, all eyes were on me as soon as I approached them. "Na weza kucheza?" I asked. (Can I play?) Those kids were thrilled. They didn't speak much English, but we worked out some games through a combination of English, Swahili, and sign language. They were quite impressed with me! The mama came out of the house after a minute, and her English was quite good. She spoke to me and asked me questions while she watched us play. When I told her, yes, women do play football in America, she laughed out loud in amusement. Who knew! We quickly acquired more kids who wanted to play football with the crazy mzungu girl, as well as crowds of spectators that came and went, but the game ended when Mama announced it was bath time. So cute...
Thursday we showed our participants how to prepare food for drying, which is slicing them very thinly (after washing them of course, another aspect that we teach). We dried red onions, greens, and carrots. We had so much time after the food prep that our participants made even more dryers, including a super jumbo one! The house we were training at had a lot of animals, which I always love. Goats, sheep, chickens, ducks, a dog, and some cats. I definitely stand out by how enamored I become by the animals, the people just do not relate with that kind of affection toward them. It's quite hard for me to deal with, actually. One of the cats there was obviously sick. Cats are so good at personal hygeine that when you see a cat that looks mangy and unkempt, it's a classic singal that she is not well. The people definitely did not understand this, and resented the cat for looking so ugly. As it hunched over huffing and puffing, the women would kick or swat at it. Morgan once translated for me that one of the women wanted to throw it in the river, but I think he stopped translating those comments once he saw my reaction. So, so tragic.
By Friday, much of the food we had dried was complete, so we trained our participants on how to store it, and best of all, how to rehydrate it and cook it. There was a whole lot of skepticism, and people were becoming highly critical as they watched us soak the dried veggies. But sure enough, once it was done, everyone was blown away- it really tastes great. They told us how pleased they were, and that they would definitely continue to use their food dryers. We all found it to be such a gratifying experience, until after we handed out certificates and exchanged thank yous and goodbyes, they asked us for money in exchange for the time they had wasted in our training all week. OUCH. Apparently, this is quite common. Many NGOs working in Tanzania have made a habit of hanging out "sitting allowances," and as a result, people often expect hand-outs on top of the free trainings and materials. It's a big problem and it felt slightly disheartening, but I do think the people will benefit from this technology, so I'm glad for that.
Saturday I had my first out-of-pocket Swahili lesson with Godson, which was great. I then went on a mission to buy an outlet converter on the street for 2,000 Tsh, which I was told was a fair price ahead of time. The first prices I was given were 10,000, then 8,000, then 6, then 5. I was really eager for the challenge and the opportunity to test my Swahili. It took several attempts and many street vendors, but finally (with Molly's help) I got one for 2,000! It was a proud moment, but the real accomplishment will be when I get the price I want all by myself. :) That night the three of us girls went out with some of our college interns from GSC. They took us to an outdoor bar/restaurant for Konyagi and kuku choma (the local liquor of choice, and grilled chicken), followed by a popular international nightclub called Masaai Camp for more Konyagi, pool, and dancing. It was a really fun night! I've never been proposed to so many times. Except for in the villages maybe. Haha
We stayed at Arusha Backpackers again that night, so after breakfast in the morning we parted ways and I spent Sunday evening with Karen. She helped me buy a small radio and a football, and we spent the evening in the back garden playing with family and neighbors. I also went on a small excursion to the grocery store around the corner and made friends with more of my neighborhood vendors, which is a nice feeling.
This Monday we began training at Saitabau, which is going quite nicely. This time we are training in BIA, and the classroom sessions have gone as smoothly as you could hope for, complete with a marriage proposal at the end. Today we did a double-dug bed practical, and tomorrow we'll create a compost heap.
Last night I spent some time in the office uploading Facebook pictures, and I realized it had gotten dark by the time I was ready to leave. It was only 7:15 or so, but as the sun had gone down, the shortcut I usually take through an apartment complex was locked and my walk home jumped from 15 minutes to at least 30. Oy... I felt plenty safe, even though it was dark, because it was still early and there were lots of people around. Still, it was my first long walk in the dark on my own, so I wanted to walk at a brisk pace. I managed to get within a couple minutes of my house, when I hear, "Hello, miss!" It was Morgan! He was out for a walk with a friend of his and spotted me on the street amongst the masses. (I guess it's not that hard when you're the only white girl on the street... I must glow in the dark) He invited me to dinner with them, and I was happy spend some extra time with friends. It couldn't have been 5 minutes later that, when in the middle of a sentence, I walked straight into about 6 inches of soft, gooshy mud. "Ooohh!! Pole, Andi!!" they both managed in between bursts of laughter. Pole, an expression of sympathy, is an extremely common phrase here. My ag vocab came in handy when I said that it looked like I had walked into a pile of manure, which couldn't have been more accurate. Morgan led me to a nearby shoe salesman, and spoke some words in Swahili. Shoe salesmen in TZ generally acquire second hand shoes, scrub them clean, and sell them on the street. The man was so nice, and was happy to offer me buckets of water, and kept sprinkling powdered soap on my feet as Morgan helped scrub them clean. He kept saying, "Hamnashida! No problem! Tanzania is about peace and love, you know!" Morgan's friend Sydney took photos while laughing all the while. What a mzungu I am.
Dinner with the guys afterward was lovely, and Baba Karen (Karen's dad) was still up when I got home watching a football game. We watched the game together before heading to bed, and I'm pleased to announce my sandals are dry today. :) It's been a fun week and a half since I posted last, and I am becoming more and more comfortable in this city. The more I get to know people and places, the more it feels like home, and it helps that my Swahili is really coming along, too. I believe I will be camping next week, so the next blog post may wait until the weekend after this one. In the meantime, enjoy the photos I was finally able to upload! :)
Saturday, March 26, 2011
First Village Week - Longido
It's hard to believe another week has gone by already. After I posted my last blog post, I split up with my girls and braved the city of Arusha all by myself. They were headed to a market, and I decided I was finally confident enough to spend some time wandering solo. The city really is pretty chaotic, so I was quite pleased to find that I was acclimating to things as quickly as I was. Crowded, polluted, smelly at times, lots of commotion and plenty of unwanted attention... not to mention the traffic, which is a whole 'nother level of crazy. I made some small purchases and tested my Swahili in a few shops, which really helped boost my overall confidence. One flycatcher began following me for a while, who told me his name was "Pili Pili" (which is Tanzanian hot sauce), and I was only able to shake him off by ducking into Africafe-- Arusha's version of Starbucks. Very posh in comparison to it's surroundings, and a very established "mzungu" hangout, Africafe is complete with American style breakfasts, coffee that is actually brewed (as opposed to instant), and sit down toilets! Pili Pili left me at the door, and I was saved.
Saturday night was actually a blast. Ebony's lack of control in talking to strangers paid off when she met an American woman at a local market some weeks ago-- the woman apparently had a very nice house in Sekina and had planned to go out of town that weekend... so she gave Ebony the keys! It was like a vacation, complete with showers, a kitchen with a gas stove and running water (as opposed to wood fire stoves and bucket baths in our homestays), an MP3 player and DVD player, the works. This was more of a treat for the girls who had been here a while, but it was lots of fun cooking and bonding as a group. We stopped at a local stand and bought a giant mango, a pineapple, 10 tomatoes, an onion, bell pepper, and a few carrots, all for 2,000 tsh (less than $1.50 USD). Hallelujah, we seriously had a feast. After a lazy morning the next day I took a dala dala back to my homestay where Karen helped me do my laundry by hand. As soon as we hung it up to dry it began to pour of course, so the next day I packed a sack of wet clothes for my first village training.
We met at the GSC office on Monday morning and set off for Longido. GSC partners with two organizations- Partners for Development (PFD) and the Canadian Food Grains Bank (CFGB). So when we volunteers head out to a village, which we do virtually every week, we are with one of the two. Molly and I were assigned Longido village with PFD, and I learned that we were assigned to do a follow up training in no-till agriculture. As you might remember, my orientation week was spent learning BIA agriculture. Well, apparently I did my entire training with CFGB, and they do BIA. So Monday morning I found myself headed to a village to teach something I had no prior knowledge of. Yes, a little uncomfortable.
GSC also recruits local college interns to act as translators for us volunteers who do not speak Swahili. Molly and I each had one intern, who also had no prior knowledge of the material. This week turned out to be a little tricky, because our village was almost entirely populated with Masaai people, very traditional herdspeople who have no history with farming... and don't speak Swahili. I became very nervous at the thought of teaching something I knew very little about, to people who I knew very little about. Our first day, we met the group of Masaai women (no men, which is apparently common) and set a time to meet the following day. This process was entirely in Swahili, translated into Masaai. My "translator" didn't take much of an interest in me and I was pretty much lost the entire time.
The following day I learned that we usually do some classroom sessions at the begining, but since the women only speak Masaai, we would spend the week doing practicals... over, and over again. No-till agriculture is extremely simple, and in my opinion the best option for Masaai people. As you might have guessed, you don't have to till the soil, so it makes sense if you have a lot of land (double digging a field, as BIA has you do with garden beds, would be impossible) and it requires little construction or maintenance. An introduction to farming, perhaps. The woman from PFD who was with me to lead the trainings, Ana, is probably my age or slightly older, and a very competetive person. I learned very quickly that I was there to observe and lend a hand digging holes when it was convenient. She taught the trainings entirely in Swahili, and if I wanted to know anything that was going on... let alone the concepts behind this style of ag... I better know how to ask questions. It was completely disheartening. Many times I would ask to help, and she would brush me off and say, "No, I'm not tired yet." She clearly considered me to be more of a burden than a help. My "counterpart," the intern, quickly turned on the Tanzanian machismo attitude and spent the training barking orders either at me or the Masaai women, or "fixing" the inferior holes we had dug.
The rest of the week looked a lot like this. Thursday Ana left for the training without me, which they do at different participants' houses, so I stayed behind in the village to do the food drying training with Molly and PFD staffmember Tom. It was a great day for them- the participants showed a lot of interest and a bit of a crowd developed as they were building two new food dryers mostly out of local material. The idea here is to be able to preserve food from the rainy season to rehydrate and use during the dry season. We dried carrots, greens, onions, and potatoes beautifully.
I was incredibly grateful for Molly to show me the ropes and teach me how she's learned to cope with the program's issues. It was interesting for her to hear my thoughts as I go through it for the first time, because she hadn't realized how much she had just gotten used to being neglected. We would often get frustrated that even though everyone with PFD speaks English, it was never spoken during down time or meals, so we began speaking Spanish together as an outlet to have our own private conversations. It turns out Molly had studied Spanish for as long as I did through school, so we've had a lot of fun speaking a combination of Swahili and Spanish.
The other thing that hugely impacted my experience was the warmth of the Masaai women. I had been told that the Masaai can be much more reluctant to receive us and our trainings, because they are historically pastoralists, so I wasn't sure what the attitudes of the participants would be like. I think I must have had a lost puppy dog look going on... I was so obviously out of my element that they seemed to fall in love with me, even though we did not speak the same language. A couple women in particular would greet me (and only me) with giant hugs in the morning. At the end of a training on the second day, one woman insisted that I stay for chai, while all the other women and PFD crew waited. She then took my water bottle from my hand, placed a simple wire ring on my finger, and held my hand the 20 minute or so walk back to our meeting place. They were all remarkably sweet and welcoming, it was so touching. By Friday I had developed this really bizarre outbreak of itchy red bumps around my right wrist, and all the mamas fussed over them and rubbed them throughout the day. They remain pleasantly itchy today, and I think I may have spotted a couple new ones, so I am afraid it might be a reaction to something about that ring. Quite disappointing, because I love it so much, but I'm hoping to figure it out quickly because they're killing me!!
Sadly, this weekend is Ebony's last couple days here in Tanzania, so we're doin it up big time. This morning Molly's friend Rogers took us on a guided hike on Mount Meru, which led us to Napuru Waterfall in the middle of the rainforest-- breathtaking. We munched on some wild red berries he showed us were edible on the way there and back, and had lunch at his mama's house on the way down, which was in the middle of their shamba (farm). Really sweet people. Tonight we're going out for drinks, and tomorrow we'll go to a circus that's in town!
So all in all, the week had it's ups and downs. This all comes wrapped up in the package of plopping down in a foreign culture and way of life, so I'm setting out to learn how to deal. While I do think some of the issues with my program are things that should be discussed with the appropriate people to handle them, I also know that I will encounter all kinds of clashing personalities and organizational idiosyncrasies no matter where I travel on this earth, so it's my job to learn and grow as a human and figure out how to handle all types of situations appropriately.
Saturday night was actually a blast. Ebony's lack of control in talking to strangers paid off when she met an American woman at a local market some weeks ago-- the woman apparently had a very nice house in Sekina and had planned to go out of town that weekend... so she gave Ebony the keys! It was like a vacation, complete with showers, a kitchen with a gas stove and running water (as opposed to wood fire stoves and bucket baths in our homestays), an MP3 player and DVD player, the works. This was more of a treat for the girls who had been here a while, but it was lots of fun cooking and bonding as a group. We stopped at a local stand and bought a giant mango, a pineapple, 10 tomatoes, an onion, bell pepper, and a few carrots, all for 2,000 tsh (less than $1.50 USD). Hallelujah, we seriously had a feast. After a lazy morning the next day I took a dala dala back to my homestay where Karen helped me do my laundry by hand. As soon as we hung it up to dry it began to pour of course, so the next day I packed a sack of wet clothes for my first village training.
We met at the GSC office on Monday morning and set off for Longido. GSC partners with two organizations- Partners for Development (PFD) and the Canadian Food Grains Bank (CFGB). So when we volunteers head out to a village, which we do virtually every week, we are with one of the two. Molly and I were assigned Longido village with PFD, and I learned that we were assigned to do a follow up training in no-till agriculture. As you might remember, my orientation week was spent learning BIA agriculture. Well, apparently I did my entire training with CFGB, and they do BIA. So Monday morning I found myself headed to a village to teach something I had no prior knowledge of. Yes, a little uncomfortable.
GSC also recruits local college interns to act as translators for us volunteers who do not speak Swahili. Molly and I each had one intern, who also had no prior knowledge of the material. This week turned out to be a little tricky, because our village was almost entirely populated with Masaai people, very traditional herdspeople who have no history with farming... and don't speak Swahili. I became very nervous at the thought of teaching something I knew very little about, to people who I knew very little about. Our first day, we met the group of Masaai women (no men, which is apparently common) and set a time to meet the following day. This process was entirely in Swahili, translated into Masaai. My "translator" didn't take much of an interest in me and I was pretty much lost the entire time.
The following day I learned that we usually do some classroom sessions at the begining, but since the women only speak Masaai, we would spend the week doing practicals... over, and over again. No-till agriculture is extremely simple, and in my opinion the best option for Masaai people. As you might have guessed, you don't have to till the soil, so it makes sense if you have a lot of land (double digging a field, as BIA has you do with garden beds, would be impossible) and it requires little construction or maintenance. An introduction to farming, perhaps. The woman from PFD who was with me to lead the trainings, Ana, is probably my age or slightly older, and a very competetive person. I learned very quickly that I was there to observe and lend a hand digging holes when it was convenient. She taught the trainings entirely in Swahili, and if I wanted to know anything that was going on... let alone the concepts behind this style of ag... I better know how to ask questions. It was completely disheartening. Many times I would ask to help, and she would brush me off and say, "No, I'm not tired yet." She clearly considered me to be more of a burden than a help. My "counterpart," the intern, quickly turned on the Tanzanian machismo attitude and spent the training barking orders either at me or the Masaai women, or "fixing" the inferior holes we had dug.
The rest of the week looked a lot like this. Thursday Ana left for the training without me, which they do at different participants' houses, so I stayed behind in the village to do the food drying training with Molly and PFD staffmember Tom. It was a great day for them- the participants showed a lot of interest and a bit of a crowd developed as they were building two new food dryers mostly out of local material. The idea here is to be able to preserve food from the rainy season to rehydrate and use during the dry season. We dried carrots, greens, onions, and potatoes beautifully.
I was incredibly grateful for Molly to show me the ropes and teach me how she's learned to cope with the program's issues. It was interesting for her to hear my thoughts as I go through it for the first time, because she hadn't realized how much she had just gotten used to being neglected. We would often get frustrated that even though everyone with PFD speaks English, it was never spoken during down time or meals, so we began speaking Spanish together as an outlet to have our own private conversations. It turns out Molly had studied Spanish for as long as I did through school, so we've had a lot of fun speaking a combination of Swahili and Spanish.
The other thing that hugely impacted my experience was the warmth of the Masaai women. I had been told that the Masaai can be much more reluctant to receive us and our trainings, because they are historically pastoralists, so I wasn't sure what the attitudes of the participants would be like. I think I must have had a lost puppy dog look going on... I was so obviously out of my element that they seemed to fall in love with me, even though we did not speak the same language. A couple women in particular would greet me (and only me) with giant hugs in the morning. At the end of a training on the second day, one woman insisted that I stay for chai, while all the other women and PFD crew waited. She then took my water bottle from my hand, placed a simple wire ring on my finger, and held my hand the 20 minute or so walk back to our meeting place. They were all remarkably sweet and welcoming, it was so touching. By Friday I had developed this really bizarre outbreak of itchy red bumps around my right wrist, and all the mamas fussed over them and rubbed them throughout the day. They remain pleasantly itchy today, and I think I may have spotted a couple new ones, so I am afraid it might be a reaction to something about that ring. Quite disappointing, because I love it so much, but I'm hoping to figure it out quickly because they're killing me!!
Sadly, this weekend is Ebony's last couple days here in Tanzania, so we're doin it up big time. This morning Molly's friend Rogers took us on a guided hike on Mount Meru, which led us to Napuru Waterfall in the middle of the rainforest-- breathtaking. We munched on some wild red berries he showed us were edible on the way there and back, and had lunch at his mama's house on the way down, which was in the middle of their shamba (farm). Really sweet people. Tonight we're going out for drinks, and tomorrow we'll go to a circus that's in town!
So all in all, the week had it's ups and downs. This all comes wrapped up in the package of plopping down in a foreign culture and way of life, so I'm setting out to learn how to deal. While I do think some of the issues with my program are things that should be discussed with the appropriate people to handle them, I also know that I will encounter all kinds of clashing personalities and organizational idiosyncrasies no matter where I travel on this earth, so it's my job to learn and grow as a human and figure out how to handle all types of situations appropriately.
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