Bugs, Bowels, Banging my head, Bringing back t-shirts...

Well another couple weeks of teaching in the bank, but not without a few interesting events: bugs, bowels, banging my head against a wall and bringing back t-shirts.

Bugs: Every night since I have arrived at site before I hit the sac I turn my front and back porch lights on.  One morning, about two weeks ago, I woke up to plague of locusts/grasshoppers/ senene…whatever you want to call them who are apparently attracted to the light. I had about 15 minutes before I was supposed to be at school and more than 50 of these things in my house. So, what did I do? I guess I did what any normal person would do-- took a broom and started swatting. After killing most of the locusts, I left for school only to find about ten students on my front porch picking more locusts off of my front door. Unannounced to me the locusts are a delicacy amongst the students and village kids. About two hours later during our chai break, I warmly welcomed five students into my house, gave them plastics bags and let them exterminate my house. It was a win win situation; the locusts left my house and the students added some much needed protein in their diets.  For about a week after this blessed event I would sweep out the occasional stragglers and the village children would literally fight over them, but I don’t think the village kids appreciated my first come, first serve policy.

Bowels: There are many different types of diseases and illnesses that PCVs encounter during their service. I swear half of these go undiagnosed and are probably some mutant form of flu, common cold or botulism. This past week, for the second time while in country, I was struck with what I call the dinosaur flu. Symptoms: stomach cramps that make you want to roar like a dino, profuse sweating (not just because it is the southern hemisphere), nausea, diarrhea and a fever (not malaria because it only lasts a few hours). Needless to say when the dino flu strikes I just want to be teleported from where ever I am to my bed with a can of diet coke or ginger ale and a roll of TP. Unfortunately, this time when the dino flu struck I was about an hour away and once I reached my site was dragged into a Ministry of Education meeting. Thankfully it passed within 24 hours…as usual. The last time this struck I was not visited by a solid bowel movement for a month.

Banging my head against a wall: I know better than to bring up the topic of religion/faith with my counterparts here, but sometimes it cannot be helped. Recently a man has emerged in northern Tanzania in a village called Loliondo. He claims to have made a tea that can cure everything from ulcers and diabetes to HIV/AIDS. People are apparently showing up in droves to pay about $.33 for a cup of tea. Sadly people are also dying in waiting in line because they are terminal. Now don’t get me wrong I am all for things that make people feel better, but there is no way in hell I believe this stuff cures anything except for an upset stomach. I am saddened by the fact that HCNs (host country nationals) who are HIV positive have elected to stop taking their ARVs because they believe they are cured. Just the other day a study was released showing that ARVs, if started early enough, could help prevent the transmission of HIV. My counterparts believe the cure it is more of a matter of faith than it is of science; if you believe you are better after drinking the tea then you are actually cured. Their argument was based solely on faith and god. Not wanting to really stir the pot, but unable to help myself I asked what would happen if an HIV positive person drank the tea, felt better, but then still tested positive for HIV? My counterparts are well aware about my stance on religion and god and respect it, just as I respect their beliefs. I think since coming to Tanzania and having to defend my beliefs in what is a very religious country, I am more aware of where I stand on the spectrum of spirituality and I now have a clearer, firmer of my own beliefs. Note: Loliondo does not claim to cure acne or obesity.

Bringing back t-shirts:

The other day I stumbled upon a new initiative to raise money for non-profits in East Africa called Project Repat. Basically what happens is Americans donate old shirts to Goodwills and Salvation Armys across the country and eventually those shirts make it to different parts of the developing world. A lot of the shirts end up in clothing markets, especially in East Africa. Before hearing about the project, PCVs including myself would frequent used clothing markets and have a good laugh at all of the ridiculous/ vintage shirts for sale. We would also laugh at the shirts we saw HCNs wearing. I assume that the women I saw who had on a shirt saying “I swear it is this big” (with two hands held up underneath) had no idea what her shirt really meant, but it made my day. Okay, getting back to the point…the idea of the project is for people who are traveling to visit these used clothing markets, get a cultural experience and buy some shirts that will then be resold in the states. The profit from the resale of the shirts will then go to fund non-profit organizations. I am excited that my time spent lurking around the market will now be put to good use and I plan on bringing some shirts back with me when I come home to visit in next month!!  Also…here is the site for anyone who is interested http://www.projectrepat.org. 

*Mom I would equate looking at t-shirts in the market to reading greeting cards in the humor section at CVS.

Currently down to two weeks left of school, one of teaching and one of invigilating exams and about 40 days until I come home to visit. Pretty excited for some real food, hot water, iced coffee and a washing machine!!

Thanks again, Vasthi, for the box of America (as I have called it). Yes, too much chocolate will give you a stomachache and I forgot how much I love the smell of Tide laundry detergent!

Good luck this weekend Kyle and the Cornell Lightweights, Jordo and the Holy Cross Frosh and Brown Women’s Crew!!! Go BRUNO! Wish I could be home to see you all race. Here’s hoping for flat water and a tail wind!

All my love from TZ!

Dar and the dentist.....

Not too much has gone down since the last time I posted, but I’ve been pretty busy. And busy here is a good thing. 

Last weekend for Easter a bunch of volunteers met in Mbeya to plan our girls’ empowerment conference-- which will be taking place in the middle of June -- and to go to Utengule lodge. Our meeting was held at the Mbeya Hotel—great Indian food – an took up a good chunk time, afterwards we all went to a quiet bar and actually attempted to play games with ping pong balls that were sent to us from the States and glass cups…. Let’s just say the games ran a lot longer than usual and I do not think we will be attempting with glass cups again anytime soon. On Sunday morning twelve of us set off for Utengule, a coffee plantation/ resort.  Upon arriving my coffee sensors kicked in. [As an a side coffee is grown in Tanzanian, a lot of it, but it is usually all exported and is pretty expensive on a limited budget, so I would say I have coffee about once a month.] It really was a little slice of heaven to be enjoying delicious coffee while looking out at the beautiful landscape. Utengule is set back in the green hills and looks out on to savannah.

After drinking around four cups of coffee, I relaxed in the sun, read, swam in a freezing cold, but very blue pool and ate a calzone. At the resort they also have tennis courts, a squash court and a full bar. Overall the day was a 10 and we are planning our next conference meeting there at the end of this month. (If I am going to see you in June and you want some coffee…leave me a comment.)

The first week back to teaching was pretty much the same. I am thankfully still headed of my SOW (scheme of work), but our exam period is approaching fast-- about two more weeks of teaching before I have to prepare exams.  Also, our schools now boast both form 5 and 6 for A-level, which means we added about 60 more male students between the ages of 18-22 to our student body. Almost forgot—last Monday we had a 3 hour staff meeting. Again the whole meeting was in Swahili, but I am proud to say that I followed most of it! The meeting started with the usual business, but then turned into a situation I found to be somewhat awkward. To preface, the week before I was grading exams and decided that any student who earned an ‘A’, would also earn a sticker on an exam. Now, I know most you are reminiscing about the gold star board from 1^st grade and wondering how it works with high schoolers, but the students here devour any positive feedback they receive. Somehow, my Mkuu discovered what I had done and felt the need to mention it during the meeting. I honestly appreciate the acknowledgement, but I would have rather he done it in private. I completely understood that he was trying to use me as an example, but I want nothing more than to be thought of as one of the other teachers. Alas, I will be probably always be the token white person who is bringing in new ideas…welcome or as unwelcome as they may be, but I would also expect the mkuu to recognize and praise the other teachers for their hard work and new ideas as well.  To put it simply I would love to continue teaching, in what we would consider to be a normal manner in the U.S., without resentment, recognition or causing a larger dichotomy.

This past week we also received pen pal letters from our World Wise Schools sister school and the elementary school I attended, Kent Center. The letters were sent from 3^rd graders at KCS along with pictures of them playing on the playground, playing recorders and showing off their dioramas. The English club at my school was so excited to get the letters and will be replying to them this week!

So the real action for this week actually started last week when I discovered I had a large chip in one of my molars. This prompted a call to the PCMO (Peace Corps Medical Officer) and a plan for me to travel to Dar on Thursday for a dentist appointment on Friday. After 12 hours of traveling on the bus, one bathroom break (subsequently purposefully dehydrating myself), I arrived in Dar, which was unbelievably hot and humid.  I was lucky enough this trip, however, to stay with a family who works at the U.S. embassy. Their house in and of its self was like a mini America; equipped with a microwave, toaster, refrigerator, dishwasher, coffee maker, A/C, running water and cable. Not to mention great food, hot water and a comfortable bed. [Sorry Dodoma Foam you just don’t do it for me] Friday morning I arrived at the PC office, picked up some paperwork and was driven to the dentist. Upon arriving I was told I had to pay a 20,000 tsh consultation fee and then again after the treatment. I was pretty confused by this because PC is supposed to cover all my medical expenses, so I called the office and tried to have the whole mess sorted out. In the mean time, I paid the fee and was seen by the dentist. I know most people have horror stories of receiving medical care in developing countries and my story is no exception. The dentist was a French ex-pat, who had a nice office, but things started to go down hill quickly when he started off with, “my hands are clean, as you can see no blood, I wash them in between patients. Just sit back and relax. There is no reason to be scared”. At this I became much less focused on the fact that his thinning hair was longer than mine and pulled back into a pony tail with a aqua scrunchie and more on what might go down in this office. Between trying to wrap my brain around what was happening and simultaneously trying to formulate an escape plan, he put his ungloved fingers in my mouth and proceeded to take an x-ray.  After evaluating the x-ray he sprayed some cold spray on the chipped tooth to evoke a pain response, to see if I still had a live tooth. After I had a very minimal reaction he pulled out a drill and started to drill. As any sane person would do, who still had feeling in their tooth, I freaked out and pulled my head away. At this point I started to get physically upset because I had no idea what was going on. In America, it is customary, for dentist or doctor of any sort, to tell your patient exactly what you are going to do to them before you do it. Thankfully, around the same time the PC driver came in and told me we were at the wrong dentist and we had to go back to the office. After figuring out that the number for the dentist I was supposed to go to was actually the number of the wrong dentist I boarded a dala to the real dentist, who is located in a hotel in Dar. The second dentist was a lot more understanding because he has worked with PC for a long time and sanitary because he wore gloves. After I explained the situation and a struggled a little with his pompous attitude, he gave me a shot of Novocain, drilled out some soft tissue, filled the hole and I went on my merry way. Following the hectic morning I treated myself to an iced coffee (one of the perks of Dar) while looking out at the Indian ocean. The next morning I woke up at 4:45am, boarded a bus at 5:30 and arrived back at home around 6:15 pm. It was a whirlwind adventure, which was awesome in some ways and just hellacious and downright scary in others. Hopefully [knock on wood] that is the end of medical issues here and if not, I feel I have a keen sense of what to expect if there is a next time.

Everything else is going well here. Just past the 7 months in country and 5 months at site marks. I hope everyone had a great Easter and that you are now enjoying the warmer weather. Things are just starting to get cooler here during the day…gotta love the Southern Hemisphere!! 

All my love from TZ!