All good things must come to an end....

As most of you probably already guessed I will be coming home very soon…within the next 48 hours to be exact.  I have a closing post that I wrote, but it is currently stuck on a flash drive at the bottom of my backpack….promise to post it when I get home. The post has a real kind of summary of my time here, lessons learned, things I will miss, etc. This post is more of a general announcement.  

The decision to leave was by no means an easy one, but is probably the best. After the school calendar was changed here I decided to give myself a little more time (it would have been two weeks) before I head up to Maine at the end of August to start law school.

So, for the last two weeks, after saying goodbye to my school and village I was traveling around Tanzania with my mom! We started in Dar, survived the 14 hour ride to my site, a few days at my site, in Mbeya and Iringa. After Iringa we headed to Mikumi for an awesome safari. I never thought I would be able to say I saw a male lion in situ, but one happened to pop out of the bush about 20 meters from the land cruiser. Zanzibar (Unguja) was also amazing, as was Stonetown. The Indian Ocean is truly a remarkable and indiscernible shade of blue.  I would like to thank my mom for being a trooper (i.e. surviving the squat choo, salads and bus rides) and also making my last two weeks in Tanzania extremely memorable. I am also grateful she was able to see where and how I have lived for the past two years.  Somehow this is experience seems much less isolated from home; something I feel will help when I begin to adjust back to life in America.  

So thank you all to the blog readers. I will be sure to post my last ‘true’ blog post once I return home.

“The end of a melody is not its goal: but nonetheless, had the melody not reached its end it would not have reached its goal either. A parable.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche

All my love from TZ

All Jacked Up on Mountain Dew

The other day I went to Tukuyu to get some dough and check the mail box. Before jumping on the bus to head home I stopped at a store to buy some apples. As I was deciding weather or not I really needed another roll of  TP, I heard a man behind me yelling at me. I turned around to see a shoe-less man wearing tattered clothing and a rosary. This is the point when I realized he was shaking the remaining drops from a bottle Mountain Dew, attempting to baptize me. After he had emptied the bottle on my soul, he took his rosary out from under his shirt, held the cross up to me and shouted some thing about 'mungu'- god. The whole scene was really quite strange. I really did not know what to make of the whole thing, so I just stood there and stared at him. When I went to leave, he wouldn't let me pass. Thankfully some sane men were near by and told the guy to let me through. I should mention at this point the bible thumper had produced a whistle and was blowing it at me. Talk about not attracting enough attention being white... let's add a whistle to the mix. With everyone looking at me, I calmly walked away and forgot about the whole situation, until I remembered that it was too weird not to write about.

After this incident it really got me thinking in the states we have safe environments for people who have mental disabilities. Here people just ignore someone if they are mentally handicapped. They are left to live on the streets, no one really takes care of them. It is really sad if you think about it. Although the man was annoying and I told him to go away...not very nicely because honestly I cannot tell sometimes if someone is mentally handicapped or just really religious... after it was all over I felt bad for him. He probably has no one to take care of him and is just shunned/ ignored by everyone.

In other news, school is moving forward and so is the library project. We are currently a little delayed due to a shortage of wood to make the chairs, but I am confident it will be ready by next week. Today seven students from all different forms sat in the staff room and drew educational posters for the library! I was really impressed with their diligence and their skill. These kids are very good artists. So, I am happy to say that our library will house some student work and they will have something to be proud of every time they use the new space.

To follow up on the first story, I believe the way I handled the situation speaks truck loads about how I have changed since coming to Tanzania. I was thinking about if I have changed and how. First, I do not believe any one can go through an experience like this and not change. Secondly, I think you change as much as you will allow yourself to. I have always been a shy person. I used to hid behind my mother's legs in public. Run down stairs at my aunt's house to play video games instead of being forced to talk to a hundred second cousins and great aunts. I was never one to volunteer for skits or any type of public speaking activities. Even after college and discovering booze will strip away the shyness, I still was not perfectly comfortable around other people. I was always nervous that I looked weird, or would say or do something to embarrass myself. Basically I was afraid of being judged and lacked self-confidence. I would say I blame it on my mother's side of the family who are huge teasers, out of love. I hated being the center of attention, so I think I just stayed quiet so as not to attract attention. If something embarrassing happened to me I would dwell on it. It would be really hard for me to let it go. So, before this experience, I couldn't take a joke and was scared shitless to speak in public or embarrass myself and let meaningless incidents keep me up at night.

I can now say the above does not really hold true anymore. During training something changed and one day I decided to volunteer to do a skit, then the next day I volunteered to lead a discussion. Day after day I found my self-conscious armor being stripped from my body like house shingles in a hurricane. I think I figured I would have to get used to the idea of putting myself out there. This new outlook also helped to learn the language and to use it at home with native speakers. I did not care if they judged me. Heck, I was trying to speak to them in their language. This confidence has transformed my teaching. I am no longer afraid to sound stupid or make mistakes. I realized my students might judge me, but I am there to help them. If I need to dance around a classroom, or make weird faces or demonstrate a 'swagger' to my class, so be it. I walk into my village everyday and people stare, but I don't notice any more.  If they want to stare at me they must be really bored or entertained by a tall white girl attempting to speak Swahili.

I know that when I return home I will keep my new confidence and relaxed sense of the world. I know I will be able to walk into a room full of strangers at a party and make conversation without looking to see if my shoes are on the right feet or sounding like I have no faith in what I am saying. Also, I cannot say that if I fall on my face walking down the street that I won't be blushing and looking to see who saw me eat shit, but I won't hold on to it. I'll just let it go. I am also hoping this experience comes in handy when I am the first one cold called by my law professor on a Monday morning.


Hope things are going well at home. I heard it is very very hot! Wouldn't mind some of that warm weather here... have changed to sweats and socks to sleep at night. Good luck this weekend at IRAs Jordo!! Be thinking of you.

All my love from TZ.

Reflection/ More Packets, Woman!

As I was writing in my journal today, something I do almost every day, I began to think about reflection. I started to think about how reflection is such a huge part of my life as a volunteer. Reflection keeps me moving. It reminds me where I came from and how much I have gone through to get through this point. As any education volunteer can attest, our success as volunteers is not usually a concrete, physical thing. We are not building chicken coops, starting widow support groups or digging gardens. As education volunteers we are molding young minds...planting seeds, we hope, for fruits we will never see. Don't get me wrong, occasionally we see the fruits of our labor, library projects, English proficient and HIV/AIDS clubs. The real difference we may never see, we can only hope. So, how does reflection help with this? Reflection allows me to believe, it allows me to put faith in something I cannot see. (Many of you will know how hard this is for me). I have to reflect to see the change; and the small change I do see from when I started teaching my students until now allows me to believe that I am making a difference. It may be just a small seedling, but it is there. This reflection has also caused me to reflect on life in general, but I will not bore you with those details now. Let's just say I am not the same person I was before this experience, for better or worse.

So, it is Monday here, one of the last few and the school is being taken over by people from the ministry of magic... I mean education. They are inspecting our school to make sure our teachers are teaching, schedules are in order and the school is basically functioning. I always find these visits amusing because they are getting, what I refer to as, the beauty queen version of our school. Our school is clean and tidy when they arrive, papers are in order, teachers are present and in the classrooms and the students are doing what they are supposed to be doing. We are pageant ready. On any other day, half of the teachers are at school, paperwork is not complete and the students are around the classrooms. We look as if we woke up, forgot to put on make up and blow dry our hair before heading to Starbucks. I do not mean to critique my school because even schools in America do this. You would think we would all learn that being prepared pays off. Some where in the months between ministry visits, we just tend to forget what it is like to run around like decapitated chickens, or maybe we just like the thrill?

This weekend I went to town to print some paper for our girls' conference and see a few familiar faces. On my way back to site, around 4:30 pm, I jumped on a coaster and was forced to sit next to a very drunk Tanzanian. Within five minutes he had professed his love to me in front of everyone on the bus and drooled on my leg. Honestly there is nothing I can resist more than a man who can proclaim his love while smelling like gin, but I knew I had to restrain myself. I mouthed to one of the mamas next to me of me, “amelewa” [ he is drunk], which she decided to blab to the whole bus. Now I had about twenty people laughing at me and one mad, drunk man sitting next to me. By the grace of something, the man was moved the row behind me and after calling me a slew of dirty names, because I turned down his marriage proposal, he passed out. When he awoke twenty minutes later he was asking/yelling at the woman next to me to sell him small packets of booze (She didn't have any). At this point people on the bus got pretty pissed off, the drunk man started to verbally harass me again, and the conductor threatened to ditch him at the next stop. All the while I could not help but think how I would have dealt with the situation when I first came to country; drunk people in public during the day are usually hard to come by in the states and you are rarely forced to sit next to them for the better part of an hour. I can now confidently say that after two years ignoring things and people has become a honed skill, one I am grateful to have acquired here.

Really not much else to write home about. I have spent the majority of the last few weekends at my site enjoying time to myself. This, of course, leads me to wonder how I will do when I return home. There will be people I can interact with normally at all hours of the day and very little time will actually be spend like most of my time here – completely alone. It will be interesting to see how I readjust to being around familiar people all the time, lots of familiar people. I guess time will tell.

Health update: Last weekend food poisoning, or just really bad stomach cramps and a fever struck again. Laid me out for a few days and put me on a bland food diet. I have honestly lost count of the number of time I have been sick here... too many to count, but nothing that soda and biscuits cannot fix, right? Maybe I will have a stomach of steel when I get home?

As always I hope everything and everyone is well at home. Best of luck to Jordan, who will be racing at IRAs this coming weekend and Brown Women's Crew, who will be defending their national championship at NCAAs this weekend as well. I will have row2k on refresh. Congratulations to my cousin Erin on her upcoming wedding. I am sorry I could not be there. I hope you have a wonderful day! Lastly I am counting down the days until my mom's visit!!! Soo excited! Only a few more weeks!

All my love from TZ! 

Trust and Common Sense

I was not sure if I was going to blog about something that happened two days ago, but I think writing about it may help overcome my fear.

Yesterday morning I woke up, negotiated the mosquito net, walked down the hall, unlocked the door to my kitchen and saw that my backdoor was wide open. I did not recall leaving it open and upon further inspection I saw that the nails that had held the door shut had been bent because the door was forced open. I looked around the kitchen and noticed that only my am/fm radio had been taken. The first few thoughts that flashed through my head were as follows:

• How did I not hear this happening? The door must have hit the table in my kitchen making a huge noise and I did not wake up.
• I am glad that I locked the door from the kitchen to the rest of the house. I do not really have anything of value save my life, but I am just glad the intruder did not get further into my house.
• My space has just been invaded. Boundaries have been crossed. I feel sort of violated. I feel like the trust I have built up in my village has just become null and void.
  After getting over the initial shock. I got dressed, went to school and told the other teachers what had happened. Another of the teachers said the intruder came into his house as well around 3:30am, he did not see him, but he scared him off when he heard the guy rummaging in the kitchen. This made me feel a little bit better because I was not solely targeted. After I talked to my mkuu who said he will be installing better locks on my house, I called PC to report the incident. Not much they can physically do, but it is good to know that they are alerted.

I tried not to think about what had happened the night before, but as the sun began to set last night I started to get a little anxious. Before bed I turned on the light in my kitchen, barricaded the door with buckets, pots, pans, anything that would allow me to hear if someone had entered my house from a dead sleep. I also boobie-trapped my kitchen door in case they penetrated my bucket fortress. Around 9pm the mkuu, night watchman and other teachers came to my house to help me with locks, etc. Thanking them for their help, I turned in. Needless to say I did not sleep well last night – one eye open. Actually I did not sleep between the hours of 2 am and 4 am. I kept feeling like I heard noise. I am hoping that tonight I will be able to sleep better, but I really do not know. Like I said, I feel the trust I have built up has been completely broken down because of this one instance. I feel like I am starting from square one again. Thinking back, it feels like my first night at site. I didn't sleep, I was just sweating bullets in my sleeping bag, wondering what would walk through my door in the midnight hour and running through scenarios of how to handle it. I know people say that you cannot live in fear, but I feel that usually relates to things that you can physically control. I cannot control if someone really wants to come in my house. If they want in, they will get in. All I really have going for me is the close proximity of my neighbors, my wit and a whistle. I also have done a fair amount of kickboxing here, but I am not sure how I would fair in real combat.

So here I am writing to the world about this issue. This type of thing is actually quite common for volunteers. It is the nature of living in a country that is poor. It is also the nature of a culture that had no boundaries for personal space. People will take what they want without respect for boundaries. Very rarely do these people get caught because the mind frame of HCNs is, “ well if they took it, they must need it more than me”. During our training we were told that thieves will actually say thank you to you as they run off with your wallet. I am sure if the guy who broke in and stole my radio had come to my door during broad daylight and said, “Sorry, Madam, I am going to break in to your house tonight, steal your radio and freak you out”, I would have said, “Here take it now. Look out though the antenna is broken, but I just put new batteries in!”, to save myself the lost sleep and the worrying.

Well now that I have that off my chest, I do feel a little better. I think I will start to trust again, slowly, not because I want to, but because I have to because I will not sleep for the rest of my time here. I still feel safe in my house, but just on edge.

Alright on to another thought for this post, clothing choices of Tanzanians. I may have talked about this before, but I think it is worth a revisit. Yesterday on my way to the post office, a Tanzanian got on the bus wearing a long sleeved biking jersey complete with the water bottle pockets in back. I could not help but laugh to myself and think what he does with all those pockets. Did he think to himself upon purchasing the jersey, “Hey! This is a great shirt, love the color, zipper up the front and it even has added pockets!”? Clearly not. I am also positive I will not see this guy tearing up the Alp d'Huez in July. Basically I really just want to know if this guy knows the shirt he is wearing is weird and not meant to be worn off a bike and not without tight biking shorts and a helmet.

Another odd clothing choice of Tanzanians is the rash guard. Yes, the one you wear at the beach instead of sunblock or for it's real purpose – to surf. The men wear the shirts under their dress shirts. One the teachers at my school wears one all the time and I do not have the heart to tell him it is NOT an undershirt. I am hoping that by the time I leave I will have worked up the nerve to ask him what he thinks of the shirt and what he believes it's purpose is.

This observation leads me to an even bigger one – common sense. There is a severe lack of it here. I can name about ten incidents everyday where common sense is not present. This would drive my father crazy and because it would, it drives me nuts as well (similar personalities). For example, people cannot figure out that when someone is getting off a bus and they are sitting behind you and you are blocking the aisle, that you need to stand up!!! Not hard to figure out. Sorry, Bibi (grandma), please move your butt off the folding chair, so I can leave! Another example, if I start writing notes on the board, you should be finding the appropriate notebook and starting to copy notes. Do not pick your nose, talk to your friend or stare out into space. I go through this with my students everyday. It is now May and I still have kids who will sit through the first 20 minutes of class without opening a notebook, if I do not come around and check their desks.

I am sure I can come up with a million other examples, but I think that I will look at lack of common sense very differently in the States. I won't get upset when the light turns green and the person in front of me does not move because she is yelling at her kids in the back seat, when people just assume I want cream in my coffee and sugar (I enjoy skim milk and Splenda, thank you) or when people do not move to one side on a moving sidewalk or escalator. I never thought there could be a place on Earth where common sense could be severely lacking on a large scale, but apparently I have found it.

Okay, I think that is enough ranting for this post. May is finally upon us, which means obligatory graduation ceremonies, Memorial Day, rowing championships and cold weather if you are living Mbeya, Tanzania. I hope everyone at home is well!

All my love from TZ.

Progress

Thought I would write a quick update. Not much has happened since I last wrote, but time is passing.

Library update:

-Yesterday the Mkuu and I went to the bookstore and bought all of the books for the new library! It was along day, but I was glad to have it out of the way and the $1+ million shillings out of my account.

-The fundi brought the 9 tables for the library a few nights ago and they are very nice! Just what we had expected.

-Two other fundis knocked down part of the wall between the two classrooms yesterday! Now we have a door way between the study room and the room where the books will be kept.

-The only things left are the chairs, bookshelves and to screen the windows!

Overall I am really happy with the way this project is turning out. I honestly thought I would take a while to get all of our ducks in order, but when things need to get done here, they get done.

Life update:

Today is a Tanzanian holiday, so there is no school. Consequently, I am filling out scholarship applications for school, searching for apartments in Portland and cleaning my house. For some reason I woke up at 5:45 this morning,so by 9 am I had washed dishes, done a load of laundry and cleaned by bedroom. BAM!

Everything else is going well here. Planning with the other volunteers for the girls' empowerment conference, which I will unfortunately be unable to attend because of a change in school break scheduling – that's the way the cookie crumbles.

Hope everyone is well at home.

All my love from TZ

Breathe, Stretch, Shake, Let It Go

It is funny how new volunteers tend to believe the first few months are the most difficult. Yes, you are living with HCNs, learning a new language and entirely out of your element, but the experience is exciting, new and different.

I am fast approaching the 17 month mark and while I can say I have never been as home sick I as was the first few weeks in Tanzania; I have never missed American culture more than I do now. I am beginning to believe the last few months of service will actually be the most difficult, not in terms of adjustment, but in terms of staying adjusted. As I texted my friend this morning, “When did I become bitter and cynical?”. I am not quite sure, but lately my patience has lapsed and my cultural appropriateness is at an all time low. Maybe this is just Monday speaking, but Tanzania and I may be at odds.

If I was extremely lazy I would just leave my situation as is, but I am not, so how am I going to rectify the situation? How am I going to make my last few months in country the best months? Like I said it is Monday, the left side of my brain is still asleep and I am preoccupied with how I intend on getting through the week to begin with, but here are a few things that I think may help my situation. (They may also help those of you out there who feel like their lives are a stagnant puddle as well... let's just hope yours are not breeding malaria-carrying mosquitoes )

1. Bust outta my routine
   Seriously people, I do the same thing everyday. Heck I even eat the same food every day (stewed veggies! And oatmeal!). I really need to shake things up. I am going to try to workout/ do yoga in the mornings. Normally I just sit around, drink coffee and eat breakfast. Maybe if I got my body rockin' and a rollin' early I might just feel better during the day! I am also thinking of bringing back music nights. This is when I choose an artist, say Van Morrison, Billy Joel, Elton John or Styx (just kidding), and play their music all night. I am sure there are many other things I could do differently, but that's all I got for now. Suggestions welcome!
2. Appreciate the here and now
   The one thing I promised myself I was going to do when I started this whole thing was that I was going to live within a reasonable time frame. While this is ideally day to day it some times stretches a few weeks in advance. At first I adopted this mind set because I was completely freaked out by the idea of spending two years of my life in a foreign country; now this mind set seems completely useless because the light at the end of the tunnel is shining in my face. I think by reminding myself to living in the here and now it will help time go faster and will keep me focused – two things I desperately need.
3. Look back
   I have kept a running journal of my time here. It includes daily ramblings and things I could not write here for various reasons. One of my favorite things to do is to pick up one of the old journals and read what happened to me last year during the current week. It is funny to see how much I have changed and how much I have forgotten. I like to think of things to tell my past self and I also like to remind myself of how much I have gone through. As they say, hindsight is 20/20. This also brings with it a feeling of accomplishment – ego boost!
   
   4. Work, work, work
   Keep oneself busy. Thankfully this will probably be the easiest of the three above because I am teaching 4-6 periods a day and am in the midst of the library project. I can also always find something to clean in my house!

So there's four things I can do to solve the situation detailed above. Are there more solutions? Yes, there are an infinite number, but four is all my brain can focus on at once and still be effective. In addition, I also constantly remind myself that I may not be happy with my current situation, I maybe bored and that I may long for home, but when I am back in the states I will miss most things about this place. The grass is always greener, right?

In other news, school is back to normal. I graded around 400+ exams and helped the paint the new school library over my “fall” break. The library is now set to have screens put in the windows, the shelves and tables moved in and some books added to the mix; now if the fundi would only finish his work! I will keep you all updated with its progress and upload before and after pictures when it is complete.

This week, almost a year to the day that I decided I wanted to pursue law school after service, I accepted an offer at the University of Maine School of Law and I could not be happier! It is a small school in Portland that is unique because it is the only law school in the state, which will hopefully help the job prospects after school.

My mom and I are also busy making plans for her visit in June! I am so excited that she will get to see where I live and experience what my life has been like for the past two years. It was also her birthday yesterday, so Happy Birthday, Mom! Love ya! And Happy Birthday, Jordo! Big 2-0 tomorrow... no more teenagers in our house.

As always, I hope everyone is well at home! Spring has sprung, it is baseball season and summer is around the corner!

All my love from TZ

Stuck in the Middle

The events of this week had me thinking back to the first few days after I arrived in Tanzania. Why, you ask? The first few days in country the medical office gave every volunteer a host of shots, including rabies, and I am now so glad they did. Despite being vaccinated I still found myself, once again, making the long trip to Dar. This time for post exposure shots to rabies.

How did it all begin? Well on Monday night around 8pm I was in my house and I heard a cat crying outside my back door. Thinking it was my cat, I opened the door and in came a mangy kitten. After spending about 20 minutes trying to get it out of my house, I stupidly picked up the kitten out of frustration and exhaustion and it bit me as I went to throw it out the back door. Immediately after I realized I was bleeding from my pointer finger I called the the PC medical duty phone, my father and another volunteer. The office told me I had to come to Dar for a post exposure shot as fast as I could. I was not too traumatized by the situation, actually my dad and I had a great laugh after the incident.

The next day I found myself on a bus to Iringa and then the day after on a bus to Dar. The whole trip took about 30 hours, but I am glad I came-- better safe than sorry. During the 30 hours of travel I realized that I would not be in Dar for one night like I thought, but rather four nights for a series of two shots. Really glad I was prepared with enough clothing-- not, but thankfully the expats who let me stay at their house are also nice enough to let me do some laundry. I landed at the office around 3pm received my shot and went on my way. Since then I have really just been bumming around. I ventured to the only mall in Dar which has a supermarket and a big store, ala Walmart. At the grocery store I mainly just cruised through the aisles looking at all they had to offer and buying a kilo of cheap oatmeal. In one of the aisles I ran into four Tanzanian teenage girls. It was funny to hear them speak in English and to see them acting like teenagers in America, “Can we get tuna?? Do we really need canned corn? Ah! I love pickles.. I'm getting a jar”. I couldn't help but listen to their conversation and laugh to myself. A far cry from the village, but not from America. I have also been catching up on Downton Abbey. I now see what all of the fuss is about!

As some of you may know this is not my first trip to Dar, so I should express to you all how much I hate traveling to and staying here. Most volunteers would think that I am crazy because Dar has nice American food, air conditioning, iced coffee, grocery stores and lots of other Americans, but those are are the things that cause me to feel like I am in limbo. In the village, at my site, I am comfortable knowing that I will be eating rice and beans for dinner, the electricity may go out, I have to get a bucket full of water to wash clothes and take a bath and when I am craving food I cannot have it. In Dar all of those things have been “westernized”. I can turn on a tap and water comes out. I can walk down the street and pick up gum, a diet coke or a box of cereal. In these ways being in Dar is just like being home, but in many ways it is also torture. There are things that are not American about Dar, such as the price and availability of goods, transportation, security and the lack of familiar faces. My use of Swahili also usually goes unnoticed here and I end up looking like a stupid white person trying to impress Tanzanians. I either want to be in America or at my site. I hate the limbo of Dar- half village life, half America.

On the upside I do get to do some nice things in Dar, like watch TV, go to the beach, visit the PC staff, eat great food and have a proper hot shower. However, when I am here I think about home and how much I miss it or the things/ work I am missing at site. Thankfully this past week my school had exams and this coming week is Easter vacation. After that there is about two months until my mom comes to visit for two weeks!! Super excited!!

Well I best be off. Need to get my last rabies shot this afternoon, then I am on a bus home tomorrow. I hope everyone is doing well. Best of luck to my brother Jordan and the Holy Cross Men's Crew Team who open their season today and to the Brown Women in their home race against Radcliffe.

All my love from TZ

Breaking and Entering

As with anything there is a point when things seem to lose their novelty and get, well... – old. Much like in the 3^rd grade when my father, through no fault of his own, made my brothers and I baloney sandwiches for our schools lunches for over a month straight. Honestly, I could not complain because there was probably no way in hell I was going to pack my own lunch, but that was a rough month.

Similarly my experience here is beginning to feel like the baloney sandwich incident all over again. I feel like I am just going through the motions here and not necessarily at school, but with life in general. I think the problem lies mainly in the fact that I am still a novelty to people here who do not see me regularly, i.e. people in town. Going to town has become a burden. I no longer feel like a novelty because my fresh view on my situation has faded; however people who are seeing me for the first time are, as one expects, excited. Unfortunately, my excitement is hardly ever returned and patience, for people who want to make conversation with me just because I am white, is short. I find myself thinking, this must be how celebrities feel when people approach them and say things like, “I love your work” and “Can I take a picture”. All in all, Groundhogs day? You betcha.

Then there is the other side to this whole baloney sandwich situation. Just like I was lucky I didn't have to make my sandwiches, I am lucky enough to have this whole experience. Many people don't get an opportunity like this in life. I honestly try to remember this when I am being grabbed, corralled and yelled at in the bus stand, but it is not easy. Lately, I have been craving American culture. I am grateful for the other volunteers and the fact that I can be “American” around them, but I wish that just once I was invisible when I am just out and about minding my own business. I wish I could walk around and no one would stare at me, ask me for money, try to rip me off or speak to me in horrendous English because they assume I do not speak Swahili. I should probably clarify that all of the things listed above are not only because I am white, but also because of the Tanzanian culture. It is customary to greet the person next to you on a bus and ask them a bunch of questions. In America if you sat next to someone on public transport and they started asking you a bunch of questions you would either stand up and move seats or look at them as if they were crazy, put your ear buds in and turn up the volume on your iPod.

And so here I am, stuck in a kind of limbo between frustration and appreciation. I know I can bear a few more months of it, but I am concerned it is slowly chipping away at my appreciation for this country and other HCNs.

On a similar note last week I was waiting for another teacher to finish her lesson. She ran about ten minutes into my period and I knocked on the door to ask her to wrap it up. She asked for five more minutes, I agreed then I heard her say it as she resumed her teaching – Mzungu. I could not believe it. The teacher referred to me to the students as “the white person”. I admit I was pretty hurt and realized I had two options: I could ignore it or I could confront her about it. I decided to confront her because whether she meant it or not I find the word “Mzungu” derogatory and racist. I think I was more upset with the fact that called me the name behind my back, although I heard her, and that she used it in front of the students. Since coming to Isongole, I have tried to show my colleagues that all white people are not the same. One way in which I do this is by refusing to answer to “mzungu” and explaining I am not a “person who walks in circles”. I also reprimand the students if I hear them using that word. I know it is an uphill battle because these people do not even know they are being racist and it is culturally acceptable.

So again I find myself fighting the good fight. If I have learned one thing here breaking habits and stereotypes is not easy. I fear I will always be “mzungu” to some of the teachers at my school. At least I know that the teachers who I am very close with would never call me that or even refer to me as that to others who know me. Blind faith maybe, but it makes me feel better.

If it is not a water or a rat problem here it is an electricity problem. Somehow a few of the teachers' houses are wired to a very fickle breaker, which decides to switch off whenever it sees fit. Regrettably this seems to happen at the worst times, i.e 10 pm or during a down pour. This weekend it was raining and the breaker switched. Per usual I walked to the headmaster's house to get the key to the room that houses the box. He and the keys, however, were not at home. My next door neighbor, Erasto, was also on a hunt for the keys when we both realized no one had the keys. We could either wait until morning or take matters into our own hands. We chose the latter. I came up with the idea to break the lock on the door and replace it with one I had in the house. Erasto found the metal crowbar and under the cover of rain and dusk we "MacGyver-ed that shit". Afterward we both promised not to rat each other out, high-fived and went on our merry was to our lit houses.

Lastly I have some great news to share with you all! My cat caught a mouse and spread its blood on my back porch after eating its innards and...... The grant for our new school library was recently approved! What does this mean? It means we will be renovating two existing classrooms by joining them and painting them. The grant specifically will cover the cost of new NECTA books, tables, chairs and book shelves. Our currently library is about the size of Harry Potter's cabinet under the stairs, so we are all very excited to expand! (When I told my headmaster he went for the handshake and I went for the high-five, awkward, but it turned out well...yeah teamwork!)

I hope every one is doing well at home and that you all have filled out a March Madness bracket. No excuses. If I can fill one out in Africa, you can fill one out at home. With two No.2 seeds bumped already this is making for an exciting tournament. Shout out to my family who send an early Easter package. I made Peep Smore's. They were great! It also sounds like spring is on its way back home. This means two things. Summer is also coming closer and the spring racing season has started. Best of luck to the Brown Women and the Holy Cross Men this season! Kill it, Face!

All my love from TZ!  

Jacque, the engine...start the engine!

Remember that scene from Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark when Indie has just escaped the temple in South America, he is running over the hill yelling at his friend to start the plane. All of a sudden the camera pans out a little and we see that he is hauling ass because he is being chased by the locals with spears and blow darts? That was me this morning.

Of course I was not running for my life, but I was chased – by village children. On this particular Sunday I was feeling pretty active so I decided to go for a run. I spiced up my regular routine by running in the opposite direction to a neighboring village, but I forgot one key thing.

In the eyes of most people here I am something they do not see everyday, thus I am stared at where ever I go. I sometimes forget I am a novelty, so I fooled myself into thinking I will just have a nice relaxing run. Unfortunately that will never happen here. The kids were waiting for me to come back and I tired to outsmart them by taking a back path, but they got the jump on me. As I picked up my pace all I could hear, giggles, screaming, yelling and laughter over my techno running mix blaring through my headphones.

Unwanted attention is strange. At first you feel like a celebrity. You think to yourself, wow...so this is what fame feels like. After a while the novelty wears off for you and you begin to realize why we constantly see celebrities flipping off the paparazzi (I do no envy them). Admittedly, now, I have no patience for it. I will deliberately avoid situations if I am not feeling up to dealing with the extra attention. Foolishly I believed that after a little while the people around the area I live would get used to my presence and see me as one of them. In someways, this has happened. I have friends in the village, most of the people in the immediate neighborhood know my name and what I do and I am rarely asked for money. On the other hand I feel far from integrated outside my village. I go to town and am still treated like a tourist. I run to a neighboring village, am mistaken for a deity, placed on a thrown, fed apples and Diet Coke and fanned with palm leaves. I walk on the street and am still called things like, Baby, Sister, White Girl, Dada, Hey You, Whitie, Mzungu, etc. I try to buy something at the market or a store and the price is immediately marked up 5,000 shillings. If I do not pay exact change on the public bus I have to remember to ask for my change back. It is the small things like this that make me still feel and remind me that I am an outsider. Anyway... this is something I have been struggling with lately and something I cannot change. It is part of this whole experience.

Yesterday another interesting thing happen on my way to Tukuyu. I jumped on a coaster around 11am. I was pretty hungry and so I bought a piece of grilled corn out of the window at one of the bus stands. Venders set up little grilles, shuck corn, grill it and sell it on sticks to people passing on buses and in cars. It is 200/= and it is a really good snack. Occasionally you get a piece of what I would consider “cow corn” and you sit on the bus chewing very methodically, like a ruminant, and after a while you cannot feel your jaw. As with any food item here, it is customary and culturally appropriate to offer it to others. So, you split the piece of corn in half and offer it to the person sitting next to you or behind you. Sometimes I am really hungry, pull the “I'm white card” and keep it all to myself. Yesterday I was feeling particularly generous and offered it to the older woman, “bibi”, next to me. She unexpectedly declined and when I asked her if she was sure, she opened her mouth, pointed to her infant like gums and said, “Sina Meno” or “I don't have teeth”. Hmm. That would pose a problem/ how do you repond to that? Pole (sorry) is what I said, as I tried not to laugh or look too surprised. I guess I would label that experience as “something that would never happen in America”. Never a dull moment here...

Well that's all I have for today. Just thought I would share those two interesting/ funny experiences. Hope you are all having a great Sunday and enjoying the first days of March!

All my love from TZ.

Power to the People

I was so kindly reminded by my aunt that I have not written in a while. Voila, my overdue blog post!

Things have been going around here. I can tell time is passing by because I find myself stuck inside most afternoons due to the heavy rains that grace Tanzania every “spring”. School is going well. I do not have as many students as I thought I was going to have. Come to think of it I don't know the actual number of students I currently teach, but it equates to roughly three sections of 80 kids.

One morning last week a parade of villagers with jembes (hoes) walked through the school grounds. According to my headmaster they were on their way to dig a trench for the new water supply. The water is going to be rerouted from another source, although as this plan was being hatched the water magically started flowing from the pipes around school again! As the villagers were digging the trench they cut through a PVC pipe that housed the electricity to the teachers' houses. How they cut through PCV with a jembe and did not think twice about it, I will never know. The electricity was eventually fixed by myself and a few of the male teachers. The whole experience actually produced two good things. One, I got to spend some QT/ Cross Cultural time with the fellow teachers. I attempted to explain to them that this sort of thing would never happen in the States. In fact, we rarely lose power unless there is a huge storm or everyone in NYC decides to turn on their air conditioners and blows the grid the middle of a heat wave. The second positive thing to come out of patching up the electricity was showing the other teachers that a woman can use a knife and knows something about wiring.

Last week, I went to Tukuyu to check the PO Box. To my delight, I received a Peace Corps newsletter and my VOA calendar! ( If you are thinking this is pathetic, you are right). On my way home, I jumped on the coaster as usual and was stuffed into a seat. The coaster is set up with two seats on one side and one seat on the other side of the aisle. In an effort not to waste space there is also a jump seat that drops down to seat a total of four full grown adults across. These four seats quickly become five due to conductors who want to make more money out of their trip. Most of the time there is no room to “sogea” or squeeze over and my experience last week was no exception. Normally I do not complain when they make me move to squeeze one more person in. On this particular trip, however, there was a hefty gentleman to my right and no room to move. The conductor tried to add another person, but thankfully the people in my row explained that they would not pay or would get off the bus if he tried to shove another body in our row. After hearing this loud exchange and realizing we got our way I got a little too excited (or was really delirious, not sure), fist pumped and yelled, “power to the people!!”. As everyone was staring at me the conductor turned around, parted two people in my row and stuck another body in between me and the stay-puff. Lesson of the day, don't celebrate too early and the conductor will always get his way.

Lately there has been much discussion in East Africa about aid from Great Britain. According to many countries over here Britain will not/ is threatening to with hold aid from countries who do not want to change their views or laws concerning human rights, namely gay rights. Somehow this topic came up in the teacher's lounge one day. A teacher was saying how he was listening to the news and he could not understand why someone would protect gay rights unless he himself was gay. I was not going to involve myself in the conversation (theme of this blog), but I felt the need to set the record straight, that someone who stands up for gay rights is not necessarily gay. Some of the teachers at my school think that Great Britain is attempting to, “make [Tanzanians] gay”. They are scared that the only thing keeping them safe from being overtaken is their culture in which it is illegal to be homosexual. I feel this issue is important because it has two sides. Tanzanians are very protective of their culture. In some ways I can see how their culture has been stripped down in the past few decades because of a need to keep up with other developing countries and new technology. As some teachers explained to me, Tanzanians feel the government's job is to protect and promote culture and if that means turning down aid from developed countries, then so be it. I think it is brave of them to tell Britain that they do not need financial aid. I think it is naive to think that homosexuals do not deserve the same rights as everyone else. I also think it is naive to think that establishing equal rights to homosexuals will allow them to “take over” and “cause an end to the human race”. Eventually I explained that I think it is a human right to love whom ever you want. After this confession I received a whole bunch of Bible quotes and that is where I decided to leave the conversation. Often I find myself realizing that no matter how much sense I think I make when arguing my point of view, people here will not understand where I am coming from. They are either deeply rooted in their culture, they feel they are being attacked or they rely on a really old book . I wish I could show them that forward thinking and culture can go hand in hand. Maybe culture could even be preserved by forward thinking...

Speaking of forward thinking, last week I was roped into judging an inter-school debate. Mporoto Secondary came to our school to debate the topic of corporal punishment in schools. It was actually really interesting because the debate was in English and because it was on a topic I feel very strongly about. The students mentioned all of the big pros and cons I have been struggling with since I became a teacher here. Apparently the students are more aware of the situation than I thought they were. One question that was asked during the debate, but unfortunately did not receive and answer was, “What method of discipline should replace corporal punishment in schools?”. For some reason the students could not come up with an alternative. I was again surprised because they are the ones on the wrong end of the stick (literally), but I really cannot blame them. I still have yet to come up with an alternative that would work in all situations. I truly believe the whole education system might need to be changed if the schools wish to eliminate corporal punishment.

While I am on the topic of corporal punishment, today was a rough day at school. I was busy in the staff room grading exams when one of the new teachers came into the room leading a form one student with a stick in his hand. He proceeded to make the student get down into plank position and hit him with a stick on his rear end until he cried. The entire time the student was crying and begging the teacher to stop. After about the fifth smack I looked up and felt the need to intervene. Besides the fact that the student was in physical pain, the whole scene was really disrupting. The teacher let the student go and then turned his attention to me because I had asked him to stop. He was claimed the student had cheated and I asked him if I had not said anything when he would have stopped. Unfortunately the conversation escalated amongst background laughter from the internship teachers. I should mention here that the internship teachers are not used to me being “American”, so what they were witnessing, someone going against the grain, was probably hysterical. The argument, by this point, ended with me explaining that the Tanzanian Ministry of Education says that the only person who is allowed to punish the students using corporal punishment is the headmaster. The teacher just laughed in my face. Now, I am know full well that I should not get into with other teachers, especially over the matter of punishments. I have been putting up with the same scene for over a year now and frankly my patience is wearing very thin. Just the other day at the school of another volunteer a student had to go to the hospital because a teacher beat her so hard. I honestly feel the need to step in when I see a teacher is clearly just picking on a student and taking out their aggression on the student. That is when things go from bad to worse very quickly. I do not think I would ever forgive myself if a student was hurt that badly and I did not step in if I could have.

Alright well I guess that is it for now. Going to enjoy a nice cup of warm, homemade, soy milk. Ah the joys of being a volunteer! I hope everyone is doing well at home! Miss you all! Happy Leap Day!

All my love from TZ!

Technologic

Do you realize if it weren't for Edison we'd be watching TV by candlelight? -Al Boliska

This morning I decided that the laundry basket in my bedroom needed to be emptied as it was starting to over flow onto the floor. The last couple months I have been slow to do laundry because of the on going water issues in my village. I am not sure how many of you realize this, but it takes me about 40L of water to do a whole load of laundry. This may not seem like much, but it can take me upwards of an hour just to get the water, then I have to hand wash all the clothes. Let's just say I would give up many precious things for a washing machine at this point in my service.

Alright, so on to the real point of this post. I arrived at the local water spout at 8:30 this morning. As usual there were about five or six dirt encrusted children sitting around waiting their turn to use the spout and a few adults as well. Two teenage girls were sitting around the spout dressed in the traditional mix of goodwill donated clothing and kitenge. They were talking about something and then one pulled out a cell phone and started taking pictures of her friend or sister. I thought this was pretty interesting. I was not intrigued by the cell phone, they are everywhere here, but by how familiar the act of whipping out a cell phone and snapping a picture is to teenagers the world over. Just goes to show how alike we all are.

The cell phone also reminded me that many people in America have this notion that many countries in Africa are still stuck in the “stone age”. While I have found this to be somewhat true, in the sense of the“if it isn't broken don't fix it” mentality of many Africans; I have also found it to be remarkably untrue. I will admit that there are times when I find technology here laughable because it seems so out of place. For instance, when a mama, layered in vitenge, shoeless, is out on her plot of land using a hoe that looks like it could have been used more than 100 years ago and she answers her cell phone. However, I really cannot laugh at the fact that I am surfing the internet right now thanks to my usb modem or “dongle” as it more affectionately known by PCVs. I also cannot laugh at the fact that I own a blender and a hot plate, two things that I really love having here. Many people here also have computers, granted most of those people do not live in my village. In fact, the other day I was on the coaster home from the post office and the woman sitting in front of me had her netbook out and was watching movies. Given this is the first Tanzanian I have seen open a computer on a bus and I was wondering if I would ever see it, but it just goes to show that technology is becoming more available here. I do wonder, however, if the availability of electricity, or rather lack there of, will eventually hinder the progress of technology in some African countries like Tanzania. Many people here do not have reliable electricity let alone any electricity. Which begs the question why would you spend money on a TV or a computer if you do not have reliable electricity? You wouldn't. This is probably why many people here who could potentially afford to own such items do not have them. I think that if the power supply in Tanzania becomes more reliable we will begin to see an increase in the number of computers, especially in schools. I think the price of such technology would eventually drop if there was greater access to electricity due to supply and demand. It will be interesting to as availability of power increases if there is an increased use of computers and other modern technology. I guess time will tell.

Well I guess that is enough rambling for the moment. Today is Sunday, which means I have yet another week of school ahead. Sometimes it seems like time never moves here and then again, looking back, it has moved surprisingly fast. At least this week I do not have to do a lab three times over with 50 kids each time... that will test your patience.

Hope things are going well at home! Just a reminder that Monday begins Random Act of Kindness week! Try to do a RAK every day next week. It can be as small as holding the door for someone, saying “Good Morning” with a smile or giving some a compliment!

All my love from TZ

Guerrilla Warfare

Where to start? It's only been a week or two since my last blog post, but as we have already established – events here come in waves.

I guess it is best to start with the sad news first. About a week ago my neighbor passed away. She left five children (one was three weeks old), a husband (a teacher at my school), a sister and many friends. No one is really sure what the cause of death was, but I guess it does not matter. I think what does matter however is how when tragedy strikes a community pulls together. I was actually amazed how similarly affairs are taken care of here and in America. The only thing I found a little different was the separation of the sexes. The day Mama Anna passed away all of the women who were close to her flocked to her house and the men sat outside. I should admit here that I become a very awkward person when I heard someone has died and go to visit the family. I never know what to say or do. Come to think of it... who really does? So, I dreaded going to the family's house, but I reminded myself I signed up for the entire experience – good or bad. As is custom, I wrapped myself up in my most colorful fabric, took my shoes off, greeted all of the women sitting on the floor in the house, sat against the wall and cried. To make matters worse one of the older woman directed me to sit next to Mama Anna's children who, as one can imagine, were inconsolable. I did my best to comfort them by rubbing backs, but like I said not really my specialty. I will miss Mama Anna. She was such a friendly woman. She  always smiled and waved whenever she saw me. She was also the only Tanzania woman I saw play physical games with her kids and for that she gets huge props in my book.

The last thing I would like to say about the funeral was the procession to the church. After people gathered at the family's house we all piled into lorries, students, teachers, friends, family. Lorries are big trucks that they transport potatoes and other produce in. It has a metal bar roll cage covering, but it is more or less a glorified pick up truck. Once we started rolling one of the older female students next to me started to sing. It quickly turned into a call and response song to which I wished I knew the words. It was absolutely beautiful to hear them all singing. As we climbed up the green mountain side and I stared out from the lorrie I realized how truly special my experience here has been so far. I have been accepted into a community with open arms, no questions asked. I am expected to celebrate with the community as member and mourn as a member. At school I am treated no differently than the rest of the teachers. My issues matter just as much as theirs. At this point I feel I could not ask for more – I have blended into the background.

Now for some happier news. This week our from VI A-level students graduated! Yesterday was the sherehe (party) for which I assumed my normal role in the kitchen. I know I have complained about being a woman in Tanzania before, but graduations are the one exception. Why? Well instead of having to sit at the head table with the Mkuu, Guest of Honor and other male teachers I get to hide in the kitchen and no one cares. In the kitchen I am usually placed on some sort of “baby task” (i.e. peeling carrots, cleaning peppers, cutting cabbage), but I do not mind. The rest of the time is spend gossiping, involuntarily inhaling smoke from the wood fires and being the unofficial food tester. Not too shabby.

Graduation went off without a hitch... four hours later than planned. Apparently the guest of honor decided that showing up at 2pm was much better than showing up at 10 am. About halfway through the ceremony I decided I had had enough smoke and loud music, so I went home for awhile and reappeared just in time to greet the guest of honor and be offered a beer, which I politely declined.

Not too much else to report from here. Today we had a staff meeting. We discussed the fact that the villagers think the teachers will be leaving the school because of what happened to Mama Anna and all of us being, supposedly, superstitious. We also discussed an issue that has plagued our school for a few weeks now. According to my head master there is a rouge ex-form IV student who hides in the bushes and ambushes form I students on their way to and from school. He attacks without warning and steals their notebooks. We were told to keep a lookout for him. If we see him, we are to capture him and bring him to the school office. I have two things to say about this:
1. I am amazed that I understood this whole scenario as it was explained in Swahili.

2. This story made me laugh so hard I almost had to leave the staff room. Apparently no one else thought a kid using guerrilla warfare to target only high school freshman and steal their notebooks was funny.

Oh! Almost forgot. I survived my 25^th birthday with the help of some awesome friends. They planned a BBQ, made me wear birthday glasses and even baked me a cake with Nutella frosting and candles! Thanks again Anna, Anne, Kat, TJ, Eric, Brandon, Andrew, Hannah and Jess!

Hope February is treating everyone well back at home. It has started to rain more here, but is still unseasonably cold for summer time. I just hope May, June and July are not too cold.

All my love from TZ.  

Hatutaki kujifunza wimbo

Well the first week of school is in the bag. It was fun, but I learned some things, so I thought I would share.

1. It takes more than two weeks for 279 students to show up.

My school is supposed to be receiving 279 Form 1 students. Right now I believe our enrollment it close to 170 or so, which means we are still waiting on 100ish kids to arrive. Currently the students are in two streams (a difficult process because they cannot count off), but there are still too many in one classroom to teach. The is no space to walk to the back of the classroom and just enough space to stand at the board and teach (Fire hazard?). Hoping by the end of this coming week we will have almost all of the Form 1 students, so we can stream them properly.

2. Trying to stream students off their exams from the previous year would work, but....

Last year, after my students were streamed (ranked) according to GPA I found that teaching was a lot easier because I could tailor it to my classes. I could use more English in the classroom with the students in the A stream and teach at a slower pace to the students in the B stream. This year I suggested using the exit exam grades from primary school to stream the new students from the beginning of the year. At first my Mkuu thought this was a great idea and then said we would have to give our own exam (which would cost time and money that we don't have) because the kids “plagiarized”. I can only assume he meant cheat. Not to insult him, but to make a point, I added that our students cheat as well. In fact, the majority of Tanzanian students cheat. Cheating is rampant. The sad thing is that the students are awful cheaters. Their cheating so blatant, it is laughable. I am still suggesting we use the results from the exit exam, but we will see how this plays out. I would also like to point out that the Mkuu's son is one of the form one students I will be teaching this year.

3. Not everyone wants to learn a song...

To start the Form One year the Ministry of Education has an English orientation course put into place. We teachers are supposed to use this book dated from the early 1980's (before I was born) to introduce the new students to English. The book is actually pretty silly and I will admit that I glanced at it and immediately decided that I would go about the introduction to English in a different way. For the first few weeks my plan is to play a game related to learning English at the beginning of each class, then continue to start my Physics or Math lesson for the day. This past Friday I thought teaching the students “I'm a little tea pot” would be a fun start to class. About halfway through teaching the song, I saw interest was lagging and asked if they wanted to continue. Most responded negatively. Actually one of the boys in the class, who looks around 18, gave me the death stare, which left me pretty stunned. So I asked if they wanted to learn Physics. Most responded positively. So I turned around to the board, grabbed the eraser and said, “If it is what you really want, but Physics isn't fun”. As you can probably guess, I like to take advantage of the fact that they do not know English. And because they don't know English I assume that they were then lost for the next thirty minutes of class when I was talking about applications of physics and gravity.

4. I miss my old form one students

I know I will come to love my new form one students, but I miss my old form one, now form two, students. In a way it is nice that I am not their teacher. I feel I can be more candid with them. I also cannot believe how much their English has improved. Looking at the new form one class and the now form two class the difference is remarkable. I secretly hope their leap in English proficiency had something to do with my teaching, as most Tanzanian teachers teach in Swahili, but I could never be sure. What I do know, however, is that I can have a conversation with them in English. Pretty amazing. After my first few encounters with my former students I decided that I could not just let them flounder in form two without any other English besides their actual English class (taught by my awesome counterpart). So, I decided I would head up the English club. The club will meet during subject clubs after classes on Thursdays. I am hoping to work on vocab and grammar with them through games and a pen pal program with another English Club run by another PCV. We will see how this pans out over the next couple of months... I'll keep you all updated.

5. Not all PCVs look like “PCVs”

I bet most of you think of PCVs and get this image in your head of a guy who has not shaved, showered or cut his hair in 14 months or a girl with dread locks and hairy legs/ armpits, but that is not usually the case. Come to think of it most volunteers in Tanzania are clean and do not sport the Peace Corps hippie look. That being said, there are volunteers who fit that stereotype. This weekend I got a call from Eric who received a call from two Ugandan PCVs. They were traveling through Mbeya and needed some advice on where to stay. I ended up calling them and meeting up with them and a few other volunteers from our region. As you can guess these guys fit the PC stereotype, but, I assume, only because they were traveling for about a month. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy my daily shower, haircuts and keeping my self clean, but I wish I had the “I don't give two craps” attitude once in a while. I am not saying I would go a month without taking a shower, but I wouldn't mind having braids in for a few weeks and not caring if I wore a shirt more than twice. I guess the hippie attitude is great in PC, but not as culturally acceptable back in the states. I should also mention these guys were really cool. It is always great to meet PCVs from other countries. You get to see how their program is different from your and to swap stories. These guys were also thinking about setting up a couch surfing network for PCVs in Africa, which would be awesome! Countries in Africa are all very different and most do not speak the same languages, so it is always great, not to mention safer, to meet other volunteers, while you are traveling who have the place wired..

     6. I understand why...

Every time I walk back to my house from the village I am greeted by a backdrop of rolling green mountains, pine trees and dirt covered children hanging from peach trees. Not exactly what you think of when you think of living in Africa or Tanzania, but it still feels like a foreign place to me. I cannot help but smile and think how lucky I am to have this experience. I am still amazed how I ended up here. I guess there comes a time when you realize you just need to find yourself for one reason or another. It is a question that comes up often between PCVs and one that not everyone has a straight answer to-- So why Peace Corps? Personally my answer to this question has changed multiple times over the last 14 months, but I finally feel I have converged on an unwavering answer. I needed new direction in my life. After college/ rowing, which gave me some direction, I felt there was a hole in my life that needed to be filled. I tired to fill it with different things and people, but nothing really seemed to fit. I think PC has fit that hole pretty well and allowed me to feel like I have a new direction, a new path. This experience has also, for the time being, pacified a need for adventure and a need to feel like I am making a difference. During college I was pretty selfish and didn't get to explore too many things. I think after being deprived for a while it caught up with me. I should also add a big thank you for those people who have been so patient through this time and allowing me to do what I needed to do...you know who you are.

So there are just a few things I learned/ came to realize this week. This coming week is graduation for A- level students and then a meeting to plan the girls' empowerment conference in Mbeya, i.e. I get to see other PCVs from my region and eat Indian food! I will also be turning a quarter of a century this week, which probably makes my parents feel much older than I feel...

I hope everyone is enjoying the snow at home! Seeing as though I have not seen snow in 19 months I am a little jealous, but not really because it summer here!

All my love from TZ.  

MSC/ Reunion

The first week of the 2012 school year is officially out of the way and I missed every minute of it. This past week the volunteers from my class traveled to Dar for our MSC or mid service conference. The conference is a chance to have, in some cases, a much needed visit to the dentist, a routine check-up and to pick up Pepto and Benadryl (two things most volunteers could not live without). PC also plans sessions that are directed toward helping us improve our teaching and get our secondary projects off the ground.

Our trip to Dar started last Saturday at the Mbeya train station. The train ran about 4 hours late, but once we boarded we were glad we had opted for the 24 hour + journey rather than the 13 hour bus ride. I think Kat summarized our feelings when she said, “I love train!”. It was almost the same exact train that I took a month earlier, but instead of sharing my compartment with two Zambian women I was with three other volunteers, which made it all the more enjoyable. About an hour into the ride we met a bunch of other people traveling around our ages from Australia, South Africa and Germany. Given our instant bond we decided to hang out, which turned into us commandeering the lounge car/ bar area and having a dance party until one in the morning. The next morning was spent recovering and battling the ever increasing temperature as we made our way to Dar. Upon arrival, around 10 pm, we were bombarded by taxi drivers. One gentleman was offering us a larger car, what we presumed was going to be a van, but when he pulled up it was a pick up truck. He was planning on putting us all in the back with our bags. Naturally, we quickly ran off and looked for two taxis to fit all eight of us. We arrived at Econo Lodge safe and sound and after a much needed shower I hopped into bed in an air conditioned room!

The next morning we were required to be at the PC office at 8 am. When most of us walked in at 8:30 we were welcomed and then given our welcome gifts-- a TB test! Afterward we were set off on our own to find the dentist and catch up with the other volunteers, some of whom we had not seen since March. Later that night we all met up for Indian food and drinks. Day 2 involved only a check up and meetings with our APCDs, AO and CD, or the person that runs our region, administrative officer and country director. After our medical appointments a few of us headed to Sea Cliff, ate burritos, drank iced lattes and did some more catching up. That night plans of going bowling (yes believe it or not there is a bowling alley in this country, as well as a movie theater!), changed to going out to another Indian place for drink and then the roof of the Holiday Inn. I know what you are thinking,”Carly, what illegal things were you doing on the roof of a hotel.” Actually the Holiday Inn in Dar has a tiki bar on the roof. They also sell beer on tap, which is almost non-existent here, and show soccer on a large projected screen.

Day 3 of our training consisted of a peer support meeting, technology training on how to use the new PC Tanzania site (http://pctanzania.org) and information on COS (close of service), extensions and site replacements. Almost for got to mention that PC provided chai and lunch for us at the office, but they switched caterers. I have to say it was one of their better decisions because the food was amazing! Think I gained about five pounds after this trip, but it was well worth it! One day we even had swordfish. After our afternoon session, Kat, Kathryn, Geneva and I went to Subway for sandwiches. It smelled like America and I think I forgot how good grilled chicken on oat bread with cheese and honey mustard can be.

Day 4 we had a mandatory session on content based instruction, i.e. how to get your students to think critically, and a session on bystander intervention, which was really awesome. We talked about how to recognize situations that have the potential to escalate and when and how to intervene. For example, if you are at a bar and your friend is talking to a guy and dragged away by him into a dark alley way you better get do something about it. After our long day, a few of us had another amazing food adventure. We all wanted to try Ethiopian food, so we asked some PC staff for recommendations. We eventually found our way to a place down an alley way in an area I would describe as the ghetto. It is set up in a sort of rock garden and run by an Ethiopian woman. The tables are very small, but set up in specific ways, with a small circular central table with chairs and smaller tables on the out side for drinks. Of course we did not know this so we started rearranging tables when the owner came out and explained to us that the meal comes on one big plate and we all share. After this explanation we decided maybe it would be best to have the woman order for us, needless to say we were not disappointed. The food came out on a big tray that was covered by a huge sour pancake-like bread. On top of the bread were five separate dishes of everything from beef and lamb to chicken and lentils. You wash your hands then start by ripping off bits of bread and picking up the food with them. Back in the states I was not a huge fan of ethnic food or maybe I should say I was scared that I would not like it, so far I have been proven completely wrong. I absolutely love food from different countries now-- except ugali. I am still not a fan of sushi, but no doubt I will be searching for Ethiopian and Indian food when I get home. After devouring a huge plate of food in 10 minutes, we clocked it, we got back to the hotel and decided to go dancing. Before we went dancing, however, we stopped at one of the many local casinos to pick up some of the other volunteers. The casino was offering free drinks and food if you were gambling, so put 10,000/= or $6 dollars on a card, sat down in front of a slot machine and ordered a gin and tonic. After my third free gin and tonic I decided it might be wise to stand up, assess and then cash out. All totaled I had three drinks at about 24,000/=, chicken sandwiches at about 10,000/= and came out up 2,000/= on the slots. So, by visiting the casino I made about 36,000/=, not bad for my first time gambling. After we headed to the dance club at about 11 pm, when we arrived it was completely dead. After some convincing and finding out that the cover was only 5,000/= we decided we had enough people to start our own party. It turned out to be really fun and after we stumbled out at 3 am, we all walked back to the hotel to sleep for four hours before our morning session.

Day 5 was pretty rough, lack of sleep set in around the room, but we all made it through thanks to some Advil. Our last session started off with a presentation on Peace Corps' Stomp Out Malaria project, which was really interesting and something I wish was more relevant to the area around my site because our prevalence rate is pretty low. The second half of the morning was taken up by a session on how to give feedback and a closing message. After our half day session most of us headed back to the hotel to catch up on some sleep. For dinner Kat, Geneva, Paff and I decided to try the burger everyone had been raving about. Kat and Geneva wanted a burger and then to go to a movie so we left the hotel early. When we arrived at the bus stop there was a large group of people waiting for the bus we wanted to board. Kat was a little upset by this because if we did not get on the bus she would miss her movie. When the bus arrived, like a good Tanzanian, Kat followed the large group and started running after the bus until it pulled over into the station. Somehow she ended up in the front of the group, but before the doors opened she got pushed into the side of the bus by the crowed trying to get in the unopened door. I have to say watching this happen multiple times from a safe location I nearly peed my pants with laughter. After being slammed against the door by the mob about three times I started to see her throw bows and yell in Swahili. Funnily enough the crowd died down and those of us who thought we wouldn't make it on the bus, got on with room to spare. Lesson of the day: trying to get on a bus, so you are not late, when another will be coming in 15 minutes is not worth being mobbed by a group of sweaty people who only have one goal in mind, “GET ON BUS!!!”. As it turned out we hit a traffic leaving the city , Kat and Geneva gave up there quest for the burger to go to the movies and Paff and I enjoyed one of the best burgers I have had in country. The last night in Dar I really wanted to sleep, but decided hanging out with people I do not see that often should take priority. Some of us met up at the Holiday Inn again for some drinks, but then the hotel lost power. I am not sure what happened because the generators did not kick in, but I am almost positive some poor soul had to have been stuck in one of the two elevators!

Yesterday I jumped on a bus to head back home. All I could think about on the way home was how much fun I had in Dar, but how excited I was to be heading back to my village and my daily routine. A few hours into the trip I over heard the woman next to me talking on the phone. Apparently she was headed home because someone in her family had died. I wanted to say something to her, but I was really unsure how to go about it, so I just looked out the window and pretended that I did not hear anything. As I was admiring the scenery, she, without asking, took the book I had picked up in the PC office, The God Delusion and started reading it. I am pretty sure she thought I was either crazy or a heathen or both. I was almost positive that she was going to say something to me about how absurd the book was and why I would ever question the existence of a greater being, but she didn't. Never the less I still felt strange. It is not enough that I am white, but I was reading a book that goes against the beliefs of most Tanzanians. After feeling awkward I looked out the window and started to think why these people believe so strongly in something they have no way of proving exists. I guess it is knowing their life does not just end. Personally, I have come to terms with this. Being here has really made me think about it and honestly just knowing that you go back into the circle of life is completely enough for me. It may be weird to think about it, but eventually our bodies will decompose and the carbon and other elements we were once made up of will make up other living things. Alright well that is my two cents on religion.

Eventually I arrived home around 9 pm after 15 hours on a bus. The icing of the cake, however, was when the conductor was unloading my bags from the bus and he asked for my phone number. When It asked him why he said it was because he was looking for a girlfriend. I wanted to respond, “ Hey, Buddy let me let you in on a little secret, never ask a woman for her phone number after a 15 hour bus ride, especially when she is losing her voice and it looks like she wants to shoot lasers out of her eyeballs at you”. Of course my culturally sensitive side kicked in and I explained that my phone was only used for work.

All in all my trip to Dar was really great. Between the meetings, doctor's appointments, food and friends I had a really fun time. The next time we will probably all be together, if no one else decides to go home early is in late summer for our COS conference.

This week will be the first real week of teaching! I am really excited to meet my new students, all 279 of them! Hopefully I can swing only teaching form 1 math because I really do not know how I would be able to teach almost 300 students two subjects. I guess time shall tell. Oh, I will also be enjoying my last two weeks of being 24. Time flies here... As always I hope every one is doing well at home!

All my love from TZ. 

Krismasi na Mwaka Mpya

Well another holiday season has come and gone here in Tanzania. Christmas this year was very low key, a few volunteers and I had a small party. We made pizzas, drank wine and sat around talking and playing games. Christmas morning we had a late brunch at 4 pm, but it was complete with bacon, homemade cinnamon rolls, eggs, fruit salad, left over salad from the night before and banana bread! This year we also celebrated Boxing Day, December 26^th with a pasta lunch for about 40 PCVs. I am amazed that only a few people pulled off cooking for so many people with two charcoal stoves.

My Tanzanian Christmas Tree

Kat and I on Christmas Eve

I should note here that Christmas in Tanzania is not the same as Christmas in the States. They do sell Christmas decorations here, but nothing along the lines of what you would find at home. Small strings of Christmas lights, garland and a few fake trees. People here do not really decorate the exteriors or interiors of their homes or give gifts. They get new clothes for Christmas, go to church and then have a big family meal. The meal usually consists of pilau, which is rice with spices, meat and potatoes mixed in, chicken, plain rice and some sort of mchuzi or meat sauce. This meal is typical of all Tanzanian celebrations, graduations, birthdays, Easter, etc.

For New Year's this year a bunch of volunteers went down to Matema beach on Lake Nyasa or Lake Malawi. Getting to Matema is usually a full day affair, but we arrived Kyela in record time, thanks to a crazy coaster driver and hopped on another car to Matema because of good timing. We stayed there for about four days relaxing in the sun, playing Frisbee and having a great time! Every night we would all sit around a bonfire with a few beers just talking until we got tired and headed off to bed. Luckily it only rained one afternoon! New Year's Eve was celebrated with another large fire and a car full of Tanzanians who pulled up on the beach and started blaring music out of their car. All in all it was a great trip and a great way to spend my last holiday season in country.

Escorts to Boxing Day Party in the Village

I am currently back at home wading through 144 student report forms that I need to finish filling out in the next few days. Unfortunately all of the forms are filled in by hand and I offered to average all of the grades and rank the students- thank goodness for Excel. School starts on Monday and we are supposed to have a full Form 1 roster and then some. Supposedly 300+ standard VII students passed their leaving exam to go to Form 1, but we only have space, right now, for about half of the students. My headmaster is currently looking to move classes and other forms around to accommodate them. If 300 Form 1 students do end up enrolling, I may be teaching all of them Math and Physics. Even thinking about it makes me feel like I am in a dark tunnel with a train bearing down on me and all I am see is the head light. I am hoping that if this is the case another teacher will pick up my Physics section and I will just be teaching Math.

On Sunday all of the Education volunteers from my class will be heading to Dar for Mid Service Conference-- MSC. Mid way through service was November, but because of other trainings and holidays MSC is usually slated for the second week in January. As far as I know we will be having medical check-ups and some small training sessions at the office. I am not really excited to travel all the way there and then all the way home only to start school again. I am hoping it will be fun to see everyone and spend a few days getting some work done at the PC office.

Well, not much else to report back. A few weeks ago we received three new Health and Environment volunteers, Cindy, Brandon and Andrew. All great additions to what other PCVs call the Mbeya Fraternity. I am still waiting for my LSAT score to come in. It will hopefully be here by the end of the week, then my applications can be completed and submitted.

I hope everyone had a great holiday season!

All my love from TZ.  

Bed full of kids...