Saturday, June 30, 2012

Not Just a Short Circuit

Wednesday night the electricity went out.  Now, it is not uncommon for it to flicker off for a few seconds and then resume working, but Wednesday's shortage lasted for much longer, nearly half an hour, and was caused by a much deeper problem.

My family here has interests in many different aspects of life- my Mama has a deep faith life, her son is politically aware and appreciates organic food, his wife speaks only a little English but even still we manage conversations about food, dancing, and cooking since we are often in the kitchen together and listening to music, and their daughter loves all things that happens in her thirteen-year-old life: school, friends, music, dancing, celebrity gossip, the latest fashions and all things American (a consequence of having so many American volunteers stay in their home).  Therefore my day-to-day conversations vary depending on whom I am with. 

Every morning over my breakfast of bread, jam and chai I watch the news in Swahili with my brother while he translates and updates me on everything corrupt about the current Tanzanian government.  Since Nyerere's (TZ's first president) presidency ended, things have gone downhill for the country. Recent presidents have not focused on infrastructure or justice and now Tanzania and its people are suffering.  Other African countries are coming in and taking control of farms and mines, kicking people out of their homes without a fair price or a new home for them to go to.  Unemployment is outrageously high and many NGO's are not actually meeting the needs of people who need their services the most.  Similar to other countries, those in power sit on wealth while hundreds of thousands of others live in extreme poverty.  And even many of the well-educated and respected are not being treated fairly. 
 

Over the past few weeks a group of doctors have taken leave from work to protest for fair wages.  The government has been robbing them of pay for overtime, coverage of transportation costs, and a low wage overall in proportion to the services they provide.  On Wednesday the doctor leading this small movement was beaten, and the evening news was relaying the story.  Coincidentally, just as the news story began the electricity flickered off.  Not the least bit surprised, my brother explained this happens all the time when stories reporting the government's (or those connected) outrageous behaviors  come on the news.  He said that he wouldn't be surprised if the electricity was off throughout all of Arusha since the city consists mostly of people who support the opposing party.

Presidential terms last for ten years, and the next election is in 2015.  According to my brother, the current president did not win the election in 2005, but a ponsy government scheme worked to place him in the position anyway.  If the opposing party's candidate is not elected in 2015, my brother warned that the Tanzanian people will stand for it no longer and action will be taken.

Do other countries have anything to do with the people who are suffering? Yes. Both America and UN leaders are investing in Tanzania, believing the superficial headlines that brag about it being such a peaceful country (headlines even I believed before coming here).  With a new discovery of natural gas and a plethora of valuable jewels available not far into TZ's mines, America and European countries can come up with lots of reasons to choose not to investigate the actual state of the country and continue sending blind aid in return for these precious resources to further fuel the greed that drives too many international political relationships.  Too bad UN, American and European leaders don't see that this “aid” is further sagging the pockets of a few round-bellied government officials while the majority of others run around in circles, bone-thin, limited to the daily chores of gathering water, firewood and food, all the while dodging potholes, thieves, and disease that could be better controlled but instead threaten their survival every day. 

Call me cynical, pessimistic, or fed-up.  It impossible for me to only talk about what is good when so many injustices surround me.


Too bad news like this doesn't make it to America's headlines.

Sunday, June 24, 2012

Kilimanjaro


On Saturday most of the volunteers got together to climb Mount Kilimanjaro. My kaka (brother) has a friend who guides visitors on hikes and safaris so he and three friends rented a bus to take us all to the national park. Kili is about an hour and a half from Arusha so we left at an early 7:00am. I took my coffee to-go and as a result got many stares from the people we passed as we walked to the meeting point. In Tanzania, people take time to finish a meal rather than rushing and eating on the go. So my traveler's mug further distinguished me as a muzungu.

When we arrived at the bottom of the mountain we prepared for our hike. The electronic credit card system was not working correctly and the park officials were having trouble processing the prepaid card our guides arranged for us. Two hours later, at 11:00am, we finally began our journey. The hike to the first base camp was strenuous. The incline was steep and I could feel as my body reacted to the change in altitude trying to maintain itself, but it was easy to stay motivated with a green, lush jungle surrounding me on both sides of the path. Baboons and Colobus monkeys entertained us with their presence and the aged trees never ceased to taunt me with their strong vines for swinging or thick branches for climbing. I will admit that nearly half of my pictures are of these jungle trees. At the top of our climb we reached a crater, formed over 100,000 years ago. We stumbled down to its center point where the dormant volcano lay silent beneath. What an incredible feeling to stand on top of mountain that could at any minute burst with hot lava and shower everything with ash! Of course this volcano is probably not likely to erupt for another 100,000 years or so, so flaming balls of lava was the least of my concerns.

Going down the mountain was much easier, and we made it to the bottom in just two hours- half the time it took to ascend. It was sad to leave this beautiful mountain but I can always dream of climbing it to the peak at nearly 20,000 ft (if my conversions are correct) someday. Until then, I am at peace with the 8858 ft of the majesty that I explored on this day.

Teaching the Maasai


It is important to find a balance between respecting cultural values and traditions while maintaining a firm stance on health and nutrition. This week I learned much about Maasai culture through the questions they asked during the lessons and the conversations we had with locals going to and from the village. Maasai culture is a patriarchal society where women are expected to be obedient and submissive to men. The men have many wives and each live in a separate hut around his, so the hill side is dotted with these plots of four, five or more huts. Women's roles include caring for the children, cooking, cleaning, selling produce (if surplus is grown), gathering water for the day (also a task for children), and gathering firewood....every day. Other tasks, many which are also daily, include nursing the sick in the family, milking cows, and tending to the gardens and fields (including planting, weeding, and harvesting).

Men are responsible for hunting, maintaining leadership roles in the community, providing protection, and caring for the cows. In Maasai culture, all cows are believed to belong to the Maasai and a man's wealth and respect in the community is dependent upon the number of cows he owns. Since it is up to women to milk the cows (in fact it is shameful for a man or boy to perform this job) a wealthy man will have many wives to keep up with the milking of his cows.

On the journey to and from the village we have passed many boys who stand out from other villagers: they are dressed all in black and have painted black faces with white designs over their eyes and cheeks. These boys are going through the circumcision ceremony- a special event that takes place every seven years for boys ages 12 to 22, to celebrate their change into manhood. First there is the circumcision ceremony where the boys are dressed in all black and their faces are painted dark with white designs. After the circumcision, a goat is killed and its blood is mixed with milk, one batch is boiled and one is not, and the circumcised boys drink the liquid. Then, some boys continue on to become Maasai warriors and are sent to the bush for six months for their training. When they return they are to marry a Maasai women thereby completing their transition into a warrior.
Meat is the staple of Maasai diet. During our teaching one man admitted killing three goats for just two men (and with the lack of electricity it is doubtful these goats were frozen or dehydrated to last them for a reasonable, extended period). Others smirked in disbelief when I explained that some people choose not to eat meat and use beans as their primary source of protein. Throughout all of the teaching about nutrient deficiencies, the importance of breast-feeding, malnutrition, and eating a balanced diet they were acutely attentive and interested in every bit of information and followed the lesson with questions about what pregnant women and children in particular need to consume. In their culture, men tend to only ask how the child is doing and not actually look at the baby. Therefore, some men explained they did not even know if their babies were healthy or not. This lead into a lesson on communication between men and women and the importance of a man staying with a woman after she becomes pregnant.

When it came to teaching about overall health and hygiene, there was shock when we explained that the body can tell us if we are healthy or not. After describing different ways to check if you are eating a balanced diet (checking fingernails, toenails, hair, urine, stools, eye color, etc) someone exclaimed, “But we don't do that!” There are only pit latrines in the village. The one closest to us was a small wooden shanty built around a hole. A small amount of light comes through the cracks between the boards, but everything that goes into the hole is lost in a mass of darkness. So the question they challenged us with was, “How are we supposed to check our urine and stools?” We thought a bit, considered the absence of TP, and decided that the conversation could too easily turn into a uncomfortable interrogation about private behaviors. Modesty is key in Maasai culture, and questioning a group about their excretory habits was both invasive and inappropriate in our setting, although it did stir up laughter as we discussed.

In fact there were many bouts of roaring laughter throughout the week with the Maasai. Talking about some of the 'untouched topics' like sex, disease, and health can build a unique bond between people. Everyday they prayed a blessing over us and continuously thanked us for coming to their village. But the honor was all ours and thank yous were coming from us just as frequently as from them.

At the end of Friday's session we handed out certificates and shared with them chocolate cookies; it was the least we could do thank them for the incredible insight they shared with us.

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Elephants and Lions

This week I am teaching at Engalawony Village, about an hour out of Arusha.  To reach the village office, sitting in the center of the village, we drove down narrow paths on a bumpy dirt road over hills, through a jungle, and past dozens of men, women and children who stared at the foreign land cruiser and covered their faces with khanga wraps and blankets as the vehicle left behind clouds of thick dust. All plants, animals, and humans had a blanket of dust covering them (even before we passed) and those of us inside the vehicle had only a slight privilege to those outside.  The landscape we passed was like a dream: valleys of green fields lay between pointed hills, crops grew on the hillsides, laced with African plants and trees that distinguished one plot from the next; after a dark cloud passed the sun shone into the valley, rays brightening the world before it; herds of cattle and goats dotted the open land followed obediently by little boys or young men, while women carried tree branches twice the length of their bodies atop their heads and small girls guided barrels of water for the day's use. 

At the top of the hill at the village office we met our students for the week.  Thirty individuals dressed in traditional Maasai clothing, ranging from 16 to 50 years in age, sat in a semi-circle on the grass with the green valleys and hills laying the backdrop for our afternoon.  They greeted us with a warm welcome and remained focused and interested as we covered the material.  The day provided an entirely different setting of both students and environment compared to last week!  Questions arose as we explained the basic biology of HIV/AIDS; some wondered how bacteria is killed compared to viruses, others wanted to know why there is no cure for HIV. 

To help students visualize how HIV affects the immune system we do an activity called “Elephants and Lions.” In the demonstration one volunteer stands as a baby elephant, and six individuals surround the baby.  They are the adult elephants and are responsible or protecting the baby.  Four more volunteers stand outside of these elephants as lions.  The baby elephants is symbolic of the body, the adults as its immune system, and the lions as opportunistic infections such as the flu, malaria, TB, etc.  When given the instruction, the lions try to touch the baby elephant, and the adults try to protect the baby from being touched.  This demonstrates the role of the immune system in protecting the body from diseases.  Then the moderator acts as HIV, and removes half of the adult elephants.  Now the remaining three must try to defend the baby on their own.  As the activity continues, it is much more difficult to fight off the opportunistic infections when HIV infects a person because it destroys the person's immunity. 

This game is extremely helpful in explaining a critical part of HIV infections.  People do not die from HIV.  HIV destroys the immune system which heightens the risk of other infections and prevents the body's ability to fight them on its own, oftentimes resulting in death.  This explanation is usually received with a look of surprise and a nod of understanding from the students.  It is critical that people understand this in order to see the purpose of staying healthy and taking special precautions to prevent other diseases if one does become infected with HIV.

Safari Adventure

Even in Africa I can only take so much of the city life before I need a break from the hustle and bustle and wish myself away to a quiet place where plants and animals abound. I thank my country upbringing for this need for nature.  For the first time in my life I was able to successfully wish myself into a place of absolute wilderness when our group stole away to Tarangire National Park.  Words nor pictures can do justice to the beauty of the Earth that I was treated to.  Herds of zebras, caribou, and elephants, packs of wildabeasts and wild boars, lizards, birds, small Timone-like critters, and a lone giraffe all gifted us with their presence in this park.  Land undisturbed by humans stretched for miles all around us with only the small path ahead reminding me that many have traveled here before.  The hot sun shone all day and I simply leaned back as the jeep bounced over rocks and rots, stopping to let the occasional herd of zebras or boars pass.  Of all the animals in the park the majestic elephants came closest to the jeep, and give us a menacing glare as warning to take care not to pass too close to their young, supporting the threat with their massive trunks swinging to and fro.  Between the talking, laughing and smiling, I added about a pound of dust to the white bread and rice that seems to always sit in my stomach here, and my Sunday shampoo the next morning was a bit too harsh for my tender scalp burned from the day's direct exposure.  I returned to the city exhausted, but successfully centered and ready to begin another week.

Unanswered Questions


Today was the last day of teaching this group of students at Integrity School.  Next week two sets of GSC volunteers and counterparts will return to Integrity to teach another group of students while two other sets, of which I am a part of, will travel to Maasai villages and teach adults the same materials.  Training students this week as helped to prepare me for next week's teaching.  As the week progressed the students asked us many difficult questions about HIV transmission, nutrient deficiencies, Maasai traditions, and religious perspectives of AIDS and other diseases.  Being only students ourselves, we left many of these questions unanswered.  After a lesson on the importance of educating people about the 'ABCs' of HIV prevention one student asked, “But how can we change the behaviors of the wealthy and educated who still engage in risky behavior and become infected with or further spread HIV?”  I stole a moment to let it sink in that this young man was thinking about HIV on a much different level- a level reached by living in a country where HIV affects one in sixteen adults and about two million children have lost one or both parents who were infected.  It is ironic that HIV does not discriminate against age, sex, education level, or economic status while those that HIV infects face stigma and discrimination from family, friends, employers, and entire communities.  The student's question reflects a need to motivate society to bring about a change in culture that improves life and acknowledges the dignity of every person by changing dangerous habits and behaviors that increase the spread of HIV.  I am finishing a book by Helen Epstein called The Invisible Cure: Africa, the West, and the Fight Against AIDS.  Epstein is an anthropologist who spent many of her African years in Uganda where she studied why the country was able to dramatically reduce the number of HIV infections, while HIV rates sharply increased in other countries around the world.  HIV reduction was successful in Uganda because of a focus on the 'B' in the HIV prevention teaching method: 'ABCs' (Abstinence, Be Faithful, Correct and consistent condom use).  Epstein suggests that stressing the importance of 'B' in any society may be the key to curing this disease that has taken so many lives. 

Returning to the student's question: how can we...how can I teach people to change harmful behaviors? 

This week was my first experience ever with teaching in front of a class  Standing in front of the room with chalk in my hand I scanned the sets of eyes staring back, watching every movement I made, thinking about the thoughts that were repeating back every word spoken (by the Swahili translator counterpart).  From the front of the classroom there is a different perspective of education.  It becomes more than a means or an interest, it becomes a revelation of power and thus a force that empowers.  My understanding of Tanzanian culture has only just begun, and reaching conclusions about the root causes of the poverty and corruption that exists here will take the weeks ahead for me to reach.  Providing solutions to these problems and answers to the student's questions will take much longer and cannot be answered by myself alone.  These questions about the world's problems normally bring me much distress.  At last, I have found a new peace with myself by doing the small bit of educating I can here in Tanzania to empower others, even if many of the questions remain unanswered.

Muhogo, Mua and Khanga

It takes two trips for the jeep to take all GSC staff (volunteers and counterparts) from Integrity School back to the main office and today I was part of the second group. After the first group left we walked to the shop stands near the school in Moshono village and dined on muhogo (grilled cassava root with chili sauce for dipping) and parachichi (avocado).  Cassava is a new and exciting food for me.  This was the third time I have had it in Tanzania and I am intrigued by its cooking potential.  It has only been prepared grilled for me so far, but my sister told me it can also be boiled and used in many other dishes.  With a crispy exterior (when grilled) and a soft interior, cassava tastes similar to a well baked potato although sweeter and having a much thicker texture.  If too much is chewed at once, it becomes a bit chalky so taking small bites and dipping it in chili sauce is the best way to enjoy it.  Already I am dreaming up different ways it could be prepared: stir-fried with peas and carrots; diced and cooked with beans; dipped in a peanut sauce; or maybe chopped in bite-size pieces and served in tomato soup.  However I think carbohydrates is its only nutritional value, so although tasty, it does not add variety to the starchy diet I have acquired here.

After our snack we began walking the dirt road back to Arusha alongside the corn fields, passing by men following herds of cattle and women carrying the day's crops on their heads.  The cold season is here and I go to bed and wake up slightly chilled, but during the afternoon the warm equatorial sun beats down, tanning my arms, neck and scalp.  After the jeep picked us up we pulled over to purchase muwa (sugar cane) from a man walking away from town.  The man chopped and peeled a large piece and handed it through the back window to my friend next to me.  He handed the machete through the window and my friend sliced through the plant to divide enough pieces for the car load, skillfully stopping the blade after cutting the plant before it reached my thighs beneath.  To eat muwa one must bite the stalk, tear off a piece of pulp and suck on the pulp until the liquid is gone, chewing helps to speed this step.  The pulp is then removed from the mouth by spitting and another piece is ripped and the action continues until the entire stalk has been devoured.  I have seen many Tanzanians enjoying this sugary plant and am still impressed by the skill and ease of which they can bite, suck/chew, and spit.

Back at the office the staff of GSC gave each volunteer a khanga wrap.  Khanga wraps are worn by women as skirts, dresses, hair coverings, scarves, or shawls.  They are a good covering for pants, especially in villages where women are expected to be covered from shoulders to calves with loose-fitting clothes, or else risk appearing promiscuous.  In the town it is not unusual to see women walking in pants or knee-length skirts, but never shorts.  My sister agreed to help fashion me with the many styles of the khanga since I barely managed the simple skirt-like wrap around the waist without it falling.  She promised that it will not take long for me to master the stylish hair wraps- complete with flowers and ties that some women model for an ordinary day of work- with her assistance, that is.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Teaching Day One- 11.06.2012


This week we will teach students at a college in Arushatown. We drove twenty minutes out of the city to the school, which appeared to be in a small village of its own.  The drive was my first view of the rural areas and the scenery characteristic to pictures of Africa:  corn fields lined the road on either side, homes of concrete with tin roofs and buildings of wood and grass were set back a bit, hills of green grass and trees dotting the landscape, people walking along a well beaten path- some Maasai, characterized by gauged ears and walking sticks, some women in traditional Kanga wraps skillfully carrying baskets on their heads, and some of either gender (mostly men) walking in slacks and well-ironed shirts- a faint outline of mountains providing the backdrop for it all.  Our jeep rolled over the dirt roads, bumping over ruts and rocks- the daggers of death for tires here.  One tire did not survive the journey and upon arrival it was clear why this ride was particularly bumpy. 

There were three schools in the village: a nursery school, a primary school, and the college where we were to teach.  The college and nursery occupied several connected buildings, yellow and plain with their names painted in dark red on the front side. The primary school was across the street: a long concrete building with iron bars decorating the windows, gray against the brown dirt lawn and dull to the green plants and trees surrounding.  It appeared to be vacant from afar, until a door opened and children ran out, screaming with delight.  Their purple uniforms were a trickle of brightness, seeping through the scene as they ran about the yard, waving and laughing when they saw us watching.  A few dared to come so close as to hide in a ditch fifty feet away and poked their heads up to peek when our own heads turned away.

Minutes later the nursery school released their kids too, and tiny legs carried miniature bodies across the lawn in front of us, bringing forth a stream of shining faces, bright with smiles and producing shrieks of delight that comes with recess and the excitement of seeing friendly strangers standing by their playground.  A few had the courage to come close to wave and one girl was brave enough to share a hug with one of us visitors. These precious children were not the reason for our visit though, so we moved inside the college to meet the students we were to teach. 

Last week we assigned to groups consisting of three American volunteers and one Tanzanian counterpart who serves as a translator and assistant for the teaching.  Each group was then assigned to one classroom of 20 students.  After our teaching, these 18 to 25 year-old college students will proceed to train others in the areas of HIV/AIDS, Life Skills and Nutrition. The teaching schedule is as follows:
Day 1- basic biology of HIV/AIDS and the immune system, modes of transmission, disease prevention as well as communication life skills;
Day 2- HIV prevention, gender and culture roles and issues related to HIV;
Day 3- information about testing and treatment, an overview of Sexually Transmitted Infections (STI), human rights, stigma and discrimination, and decision-making life skills;
Day 4- nutrition education, and information about how to eat a balanced diet;
Day 5- hygiene education, special nutrition practices for women and children, and malnutrition.
We will teach this group of students for about three hours a day for one week and move to another school next week.

Many of the students already had a basic understanding of HIV/AIDS.  They were sure of certain facts about the virus such as the age of those commonly infected, the prevalence of HIV in the global community, and the stigma that is associated with those infected.  However there were still many questions concerning religious beliefs and HIV, how the disease is transmitted, and many questions about the biology of HIV, its progression into AIDS, and why there is not yet a cure.  I think many of these students even know the answers and truth behind the myths of the disease, but their questions suggest that others in their networks have not received enough education to properly keep themselves safe and free of disease- a classic health problem that occurs not just in Tanzania, but all around the world. The purpose of our teaching is to help dispel the myths and stigma associated with those infected with HIV and emphasize the steps a person can take to keep her or him and their loved ones safe and healthy.

Monday, June 11, 2012

Music Like No Other

Sunday morning I went to a Catholic Mass with my sister and her friend.  We walked through a simple village of dirt streets, broken wooden fences, piles of garbage littering the street, and homes built from concrete and tin to reach the church sitting in what may have been the center of the town. Distinguished from the other buildings, the church gate opened to a courtyard of small pebbles and ornamental plants.  People were picking up rows of white lawn chairs, set up as an addition to the many pews already within to accommodate a larger crowd from the early Mass.  Clean concrete steps lead the way to four sets of grand wooden doors, opening to a voluminous interior with vaulted ceilings, crisp white walls accented with wooden trim and red, yellow, and white banners, wooden pews adorned with flowers and bows, and a magnificent crucifix of wood and metal hanging beneath a large symbol of the Holy Trinity: a triangle and circle simply painted and alone in its grandeur.  I sat in wonder of this wondrous building surrounded by simple homes: evidence of the importance placed on religion, and the influence of those who have more and investment of their resources into this building. Later I learned that this was one of just four Catholic churches in the Arusha area.

After an hour the church was filled with children, women and a few men, all sitting shoulder to shoulder and chatting in low voices until the procession began.  A church bell deeply rang its steady beat, followed with hand bells that joined in with high-pitched chimes. A keyboard crescendo-ed in with a quick, alto beat, signaling the voices to enter in harmony.  Children chanted a light, airy tune, swaying and clapping in beat as they entered the church and the choir joined with mature soprano and base with women adding to the sound with soprano voices calling in unison.  The music filled the church and the congregation swayed and clapped in rhythm. All of Mass was said in Swahili so I was not moved so much by the words as I was by the music that filled my soul with joy.

My Tanzanian Home

Wednesday my host Mama met me at the hostel to take me to my Tanzanian home.  After stepping out of the taxi (owned by my Mama's second son), three small children greeted me, wide-eyed and curious.  My bags were given to two older children and two of the little ones grabbed my hands, linking with the other who lead me down a dirt path, through a wooden gate, and into the home.  Inside sat another dozen children who smiled and giggled when I walked in, shying away when my eyes met theirs.  My Mama's thirteen-year-old granddaughter greeted me in perfect English and followed Mama and I to my room.  It was clear that I am not the first mzungu volunteer to stay here as the room was set perfectly to accommodate a traveler's needs: two long wooden tables for clothes and toiletries, a shelved stand storing extra sheets, a night stand sitting next to a full-size bed ornamented with a bright blue bed-net, and a velvet chair in the corner for sitting.  On a long table sat two bottles of water, a camping lantern, a mirror and a few leftovers from volunteers past- an English book of prayers, bug spray, sunscreen, diarrheal medicine, and a traveler's pillow hanging over the bedpost. 

I returned to the living room and the little children trickled out; their excitement over for the day.  The house is divided into five rooms, a hallway, pantry, and two small rooms for the pit latrine- complete with a ceramic base and flush string- and the shower area used for any water-based needs.  In the kitchen stands a stove and oven unit that is currently broken, two lone-standing burners, and a wooden table connected to two open cabinets.  In the backyard lives two goats, a dog, and a family of six who rent a smaller house, and a banana garden unfortunately struggling from last year's dry season.I have been there for five days now, and it already feels like home thanks to the love, comfort, and care my family gives me.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

What did I do (and eat) today?

This morning I awoke at 5:15 to the Islamic call to prayer sounding in the distant city.  [Tanzanians are about thirty-five percent Muslim, thirty-five percent Christian, and thirty percent other (mostly indigenous or a mixture of indigenous and Western beliefs).]  The next hour or so was spent savoring those precious moments between sleepland and being awake before actually getting up to prepare for the day.  Breakfast consisted of toast with peanut butter, baked bread in triangles (comparable to doughnut holes, without the sugar), purple grain-like-porridge, mango puree, and instant coffee.  Around 8:30 we walked ten minutes to the main office for orientation, a discussion about gender and culture, and a further overview about our program this summer (continued from yesterday).  Our training ended early to allow for an outing to visit with a woman living with HIV/AIDS.  She graciously shared her story with us and we gave her our encouragement, respect, and words of hope that we could provide her with.  I think this will be the first of many moving experiences I will have here.

 We returned to the office for a lunch of pinto beans and black-eyed peas, greens with cooked carrots, and a deliciously sweet orange.  After this break we created posters that will be used with the HIV/AIDS prevention education during the Life Skills Camp later this month.  At 3:00pm sharp our Swahili instructors arrived to continue our lessons.  Listening to Swahili is amusing, reading Swahili is surprisingly easy, speaking Swahili...will take some time.  When lessons were over we returned to the hostel for a break before meeting the staff at the Maasai Camp restaurant, a mzungu favorite.  I devoured a personal pizza topped with onions, green peppers and zucchini and now, nearly five hours later, I still feel satiated.  Evenings have been free for the volunteers to relax and hang out at our hostel where we have spent so much time chatting that we crack jokes that knowing someone for a day in Tanzania is like knowing someone for three years in the U.S. 

Actually, our joke has much truth to it.  In the four hours of Swahili lessons I have had, the majority of it has consisted of instruction on how to greet others-  an event that can last up to fifteen minutes in TZ.  Why this extended interaction?  Because in Tanzania, people really want to know about one's family, friends, morning, day, sleep, and overall wellness. It is considered rude to enter a conversation concerning the point of meeting before asking about all aspects of one's life.  Even strangers expect at least a brief inquiry about their health and family before offering their name!  So the hours we volunteers have spent together chatting and getting to know each other (during which comments of "I'm not used to not having this much free time!" frequently enter) have actually been us adopting the TZ culture and really getting to know each other before we enter the main purpose of our trip: to serve, learn, and work with the people of Tanzania. 

Daladala Ride

In Arusha, when one needs to shorten one's journey the most common thing to do is catch a ride in a daladala.  These 15 passenger vans can take you just about anywhere in or around the city.  After a brief walking tour, we needed to catch a ride back to the main office for our afternoon training, so we waited for a daladala to pick us up.  Now, each daladala has a colored stripe that identifies where it takes you (a code known only to the locals) and, as I mentioned, each daladala holds about 15 people, including the driver.  When the correctly striped daladala came by, the sixteen in our group clamored inside, joining the seven locals already on board.  Once we were squeezed in, the door slid shut and off we went! Winding through the streets the driver dodged pot holes, people, motorbikes, and other vehicles, often abruptly stopping to accommodate the traffic or to drop off other passengers which allowed us to quickly readjust to make our ride more comfortable, or at least breathable.  I was shifted to a window seat where I had a better view of the chaos that surrounded as four lanes of traffic advanced in a narrow two-lane street lined with food stands, store fronts, and people on either side.  I imagine blinkers are just a joke here. Upon turning a corner, reggae music added to the noise of people talking, vehicles honking, motorbikes zooming by, and the occasional bang along the side of our metal van when a passenger was ready to get off.  After turning one corner, we entered a street packed only with other daladalas and hopped off to get on a one with a different color to take us the rest of the way.  As we stood waiting, I observed the mayhem that surrounded us: people scurrying, daladala drivers asking if we need a ride, (what color are we looking for again?), vehicles braking within inches of each other... how are these vehicles actually going anywhere?!  Our staff leaders confidently took us to our next ride, where two locals on board quickly jumped out when they saw the size of our group ready to rush in.  As we waited for a break in traffic, the  reggae music resumed, and I looked to my right to see a man at a corner stand chewed on a piece of sugarcane watching another typical day go by.  A break in the traffic came and we jolted forward onto a larger road where traffic moved more swiftly and our driver magically took us safely to our destination.

How is this for a whole new twist on rush hour traffic?

Sunday, June 3, 2012

Jambo!

Currently I am sitting on a porch with a warm sun beaming down on me, birds chirping, leaves the size of my torso arching over me, breathing in sweet Tanzanian air....and finally this is reality and not a dream that I will wake up from!

The 30 hours of traveling went so smoothly- no delays, no missed flights, and I only began to feel nauseous from lack of sleep and the questionably-warmed airplane food before my fourth and final flight.  Luckily, I fell asleep before this flight left the ground and I woke up 30 minutes later feeling slightly less queasy and re-energized with excitement.  After another meal of curried veggies, fruit in a cup, and cheese and crackers (which further disgruntled my stomach) we flew over Mount Kilimanjaro- the highest peak in Africa- and landed in the town below.  Sitting in one of the closest seats to the exit, I was one of the first people off the plane and bounded down the steps to the tarmac below.  Finally: Tanzania!

During the 45 minute drive from Kilimanjaro to Arusha was 45 minutes, my driver skillfully dodged cars, trucks, people, and cows while I sat in the back seat, simply soaking up the beauty of the land, watching people go about their business, walking, talking, and working in villages and fields we passed.  It is still the rainy season and the plants are definitely showing their appreciation for the water:  corn stalks are taller than I am, trees are green and flowering, and the soil is dark with moisture.

Yesterday I ventured into the inner city with two other volunteers where we made our way through the busy streets, frequently stopped by locals who curiously stared at us strange foreigners, often anxious to interact and offer their traditional Swahili greeting: Jambo(Hello)! or Haribu (Welcome)! We walked through the marketplace staring in awe at the amount of food, clothes, and people that surrounded us.  I expect to return here many times throughout the stay.


Training begins tomorrow! And with that, a bit more schedule to these lazy days I have been living. But as the saying goes: Hakuna matata- there is no worries. 


Peace.