Dar and the dentist, round 2... Ding! Ding!

Excited to blog after these past few weeks!  A few weeks ago at school, what seemed like any other day, I was walking back to my house during our chai break to make some coffee (Dunkin’ cinnamon coffee always makes my day here… remember it is the small things!) when I saw a group of students and teachers standing around a female student lying on the ground. She had fainted, which is something I have seen before at school and done on a few occasions myself. We got her some soda and elevated her feet. Once she seemed to be coming around I continued to my house, made some coffee and came back to school. I sat outside with the rest of the teachers when I heard people screaming/chanting. I looked around the corner of the office building and the girl, who had fainted, was again lying on the ground, but this time two teachers were pinning her arms and legs down and chanting over her. According to the other teachers the girl was “sick from the devil” and needed to be healed by the power of Jesus. This continued for about another 10 minutes, while I laughed uncomfortably and other teachers and I discussed why I did not go to church here or really believe in any religion.  I was actually laughed at by one of the internship teachers, then I got angry defending myself and told him that I respected that he had his own beliefs and I deserved the same respect – he laughed, I wanted to knock some sense into him—literally.  And so, after 11 months in country, I experienced my first demonic possession and subsequent exorcism—wicked bizarre.

I know many of my blog posts include stories or comments around religion and I just thought I would take sometime now to write about how my views towards religion have changed here. Before coming to Tanzania I was perfectly fine with religion. Being born and raised Roman Catholic, going to church was not a problem for me, although I would not have considered myself, “practicing”. I enjoy some of the Bible’s messages; ones that say you should be kind to others, give to those who are less fortunate, etc. I think that they should and do form the basis of ethical thoughts and behavior. Upon arriving in Tanzania, as I have written about before, we were told that it would not be unusual for people to ask us, our names, if we were married, had children and what our religion was. As much as I think Peace Corps prepared us for the religious differences, I think they could have given us more direction on how to deal with not going to church or associating with a religion. Their main advice was to confront it in a way that made us feel comfortable. I cannot tell you how many times I have been laughed at or chastised because I do not go to church and told that I “must believe”. This has really made me believe that missionaries did not do people here any service and that religion has the ability to make people very close-minded, when I feel religion is supposed to be about acceptance. I have stopped trying to explain to people that I have different religious beliefs and have moved on to explaining that some people have different views on religion (not every one is Christian or Muslim) and that people are entitled to believe what they want and that should be respected. I really hate to say it, but I am starting to believe less and less that religion does more good than bad. I feel the people here have been imposed upon and were unknowingly not given a choice. If a Tanzanian does not follow the religion of their parents it is seen, culturally, as very disrespectful. Just another reason why I feel so fortunate to live in America where religious beliefs do not necessarily have to be passed from generation to generation and we are allowed to believe what we want, presumably, without feeling judged.

So as some of you already know, this week I had to make another trip to Dar because my filling fell out—fun, right? I was not too excited about this trip mainly because of the experience I had the last time at the dentist here. My trip got off to a rough start when my bus was running over 2 hours late. When the bus arrived at my village it was not the bus I thought I was going to take, but a really crappy bus. I should have known it was going to be a long ride when there was no space between my seat and the one in front of me for my knees. About two hours into the trip our bus slowed down through a village when I heard a sound that was mix between fireworks and gunshots. I looked out the window to see a lot of smoke and more than 50 people sprinting off into the bush. I am not kidding. Women were running with infants strapped to their backs and men and children were sprinting. Everyone on my bus closed the windows and ducked down. I am still not sure what was going on, but no one was hurt and our bus kept rolling right through. I was pretty scared, but eventually everyone’s panic turned into laughter, especially at me for being white and scared. Seriously, when you see 50+ people sprinting in the opposite direction you are headed and you hear what you believe to be gun shots, it is a wonder I did not piss my pants. The whole experience was summed up pretty well by the man sitting behind me when he said, “Well…welcome to Tanzania”. Yes, thank you buddy. This place really never ceases to amaze me.

A few more hours into the trip, the back of the bus started to smell really bad. All of the people, myself included, covered their noses with their shirts as we attempted to locate the source of the foul smell. It turns out it was actually a “fowl” smell. A live chicken, which is not an unusual thing to see on a bus because people buy them on their way home for dinner, sitting in a plastic bed in the overhead bin, had pooped and the poop was now dripping out of the bag onto the head and head rest of the woman next to me. Laughing hysterically, I offered her my apologies and some napkins.

When we arrived at the half way point about 3 hours behind schedule, I decided that I should prepare myself for arriving in Dar at around 10 pm, late, but not awful. Then at about 4:30 or 5 pm, after passing over a speed bump our bus blew a tire. At this point, I was thankful our bus did not roll over and I really, really had to go pee. I usually try not to drink anything on the bus ride, but the Diet Pepsi in my bag was just too tempting. So I took the time to get off the bus and relieve myself in the bush. Apparently hiding behind a pile of sand was not enough because I think I mooned a few people on a bus passing in the opposite direction. Oh well. At that point I was just glad to stretch my legs and empty my bladder.

About another 2 hours into the trip our bus blew another tire and we hopped off the bus again. At this point it was dark out and I estimated our arrival in Dar to be around 11 pm or 12 am. We climbed back on the bus and arrived in Morogoro, which is about 3 hours from Dar at about 8:30 pm. At this point we picked up some more passengers, who were stuffed into the aisles, leaving the rest of us with peoples butts in our faces, elbows resting on our heads and no legroom. One guy who was standing next to me, tried to talk to me in really broken English. At this point my patience had been shot and I tried to ignore him until he started speaking about me in Swahili. At that I got a little rude and told him not to talk about me and that I didn’t talk to him in English because I, frankly, was not in the mood to talk.  Then, he asked for some of the food I was eating and I told him, “No”, but offered some to the woman sitting next to me. Culturally very rude, but I was tired and extremely annoyed.

At about 1:30 am, we still had not reached Dar when our bus stopped again because the driver thought something was wrong with the breaks. At this point people started going crazy and getting very upset. I even stood up and openly admitted in English that I was going to lose my stuff if we did not start moving soon. At that point I had been on an awful bus for about 16 1/2 hours. I was tired, dirty and frustrated. Thankfully after about another 20 minutes our bus started rolling again. When arrived at the bus stand a little worse for the wear it was about 2 am and I may have elbowed a few people in the rush to get off of the bus.

The next morning I had a 10am appointment at the dentist’s office, which went surprisingly well. I think the gods felt they had punished me enough because I ended up seeing a really nice Indian woman, who wore surgical gloves and didn’t make me cry. She was really understanding and I almost wanted to hug her after she finished my filling. Afterwards, I hung out with a few other volunteers who happened to be in the area and had some real food. That night I had dinner with a woman who was taking over for the ex-pats I normally stay with. We had fresh calamari, which was awesome, and a really nice conversation about Tanzania and the Peace Corps.

The next morning I boarded the nicer bus back home. Everything seemed to be going well and we were on schedule to make it back to Mbeya by around 6:30pm. About 2 or so hours into the trip I heard the girl talking to her brother behind me and realized he had thrown up from being bus sick and that it had traveled under my seat and made it to my backpack which was lying on the ground. I was so angry and so grossed out. I felt bad for the boy, it is really irresponsible of a parent to stick their four children on a bus, by themselves when all of them are under the age of 10., but I was really mad. I would not have been as upset if they had simply told me to pick up my stuff before it got vomit on it, but they didn’t and I made the bus conductor take my back pack and stuff in the overhead bin because I was so mad. [Lesson: always carry hand sanitizer when traveling, you never know when someone is going to blow chunks] Other than the puke incident, the ride home was much faster than my ride to Dar and I was back at my site by around 7 pm.

So here is to hoping I do not have to travel back to Dar any time soon. As awful as the trip was I cannot help but think that I voluntarily signed up for this and how many people get to write a blog post like this one, right? I figure that if I didn’t have experience like this the good experiences would not mean, as much and I would never have anything to blog about. So here’s to the chicken poop, bombs or fireworks and the bus-sick boy…thanks for keeping life here interesting.

I also should mention that my kitten Pebbles has passed away. For those of you keeping track this is my second dead pet and third pet overall in 11 months. She was really tiny, but did not seem sick as she was eating and acting normally. Last Thursday I woke up to find her stone dead in her box. It was really sad, but I had to bury her in the back yard. I have since sworn that she will be my last pet in country. Cannot risk anymore going to the place in the sky under my supervision.

I hope everyone is getting into back to school mode.  I was honestly not too sorry to hear about the loss of power to people on the East coast because of Irene. You all got a little taste of Peace Corps life!! (Now just ad a small kerosene stove and a 10L bucket bath to that).

We are entering our home stretch here with mid term exams and Form IV graduation approaching soon. Today and tomorrow are actually Muslim holidays, so we do not have school and we have a week break from September10^th till the 18^th!

All my love from TZ.

  

The Endless Summer and a Few Bad Eggs

The other night I sat down to watch one of my favorite movies of all time, The Endless Summer. For those of you who have yet to experience this work of genius let me give you a brief run down. Basically in the 1960’s this guy Bruce Brown took a camera, and followed two young surfers, Robert August and Michael Hynson, around for a year and filmed them following warm weather and surfing in different locations. Regarded as mother to all modern day surf films. The Endless Summer is probably the most well-known real surf documentary—Blue Crush is not. The first stop on Mike and Roberts journey is Senegal, West Africa.

Having seen this movie more times than I know or would even like to admit, I was totally taken a back when I watched after having actually lived on the continent of Africa for almost 11 months now. At one point Mike and Robert walk down to a beach—where local people are trading goods and fishing—to go surfing. I was amazed to find that even though it is 2011, the local people were still wearing the same clothes and using the same goods they use today. The women were all dressed in brightly colored vitenge outfits and the men were wearing pants and shorts that were clearly second hand from a developed country. The women still had their children strapped to their backs and carried goods on their heads. The fishermen used the same dugout wooden canoes I have seen in use on Lake Nyasa/ Lake Malawi, as well as the same hand woven fishing nets. Even the big bowls and platters in the movie are ones I can buy at the market. Okay, so this may not seem that strange to some of you…. so what things looked the same in Africa over 50 years ago as they do today. Well, now ask yourself this; do things look the same in America as they did 50 years ago. How many of us are still wearing the same style of clothing that people wore in the 1960’s? How many of us are still using the same technology? People here seem to make due with things that have been in use for some time and have not felt the need to change. On the flip side, many of the countries in Africa are behind the developed world. Two areas where I notice this on a daily basis are in education and technology. Text books that are outdated, corporal punishment, number of students who go to college, walkmans, outdated lab apparatuses, typewriters, carbon paper for making copies… (the list goes on). Before living in Tanzania I would have had a hard time imagining how it would be to live behind the rest of the world. So, after watching this movie again I feel even more grateful to live in a developed country that is constantly moving forward.

As for the past couple weeks things have been moving forward. The New Ed volunteers received their site last week. We will be getting three new girls to the Mbeya region, which leaves just TJ and Eric … and 9 (?) girls. Poor boys… This past week I also had shadowers, who sat in on one of my classes and lived at my house for most of the week. It was nice to have some other people around for a change. Last Saturday I also procured pet #3.  Her name is Pebbles; she is a tiny gray kitten. As any of you know I have had a pretty bad track record here, as far as pets go, hopefully this one will last longer than a week. I also hope she grows a lot more so she will be bigger than the rats she is supposed to kill.

Add one more thing to the list of medical issues I have had in country…. Two nights ago I had food poisoning. I woke up in the middle of the night with stomach cramps and a small fever. In the morning, I was in no shape to go to school, so I tried to call my mkuu and a counterpart. I ended up getting sick… won’t really share the details, but it involved a bucket and my choo -- simultaneously. I ended up sleeping most of the day. Around 4 I attempted to walk to the duka near my house to get some soda and crackers, but only made it about half way before I came really close to fainting. Thankfully a student went to the store for me as I barely made it back home to my couch. Add to all of this that I had a meowing kitten, who kept trying to butt her head into the bathroom, and I ran out of water to flush my toilet. Thankfully this morning I woke up feeling much better and my 101.9 degree fever had disappeared.

Most days I really do not notice that I live in a different country/ culture because I have pretty much adjusted to things here. The times I notice things are really different is when I am sick. There are very few convinces here that we are used to at home such as ginger ale, saltines, Saved By The Bell reruns and an actual toilet bowl. These may seem like trifles, but when you are sick they can make a world of different. Also, as much as I appreciate my counterparts they do not seem to understand that when a person is sick it is not necessarily malaria, you cannot take medicine for every aliment and you may only be sick for 24 hours.

So lesson learned this week… make sure eggs are fresh and cooked thoroughly (refrigeration also wouldn’t hurt)

I hope the last few weeks of summer are treating everyone well. We are getting the tail end of “winter” here, so hopefully sometime soon it will start to warm up! Also hoping it starts to rain again…really tired of living on the surface of the moon (there is so much dust that it puffs up when you walk, like moon dust).

All my love from TZ. 

Waterfalls, Love notes and Too many socks

It has been a pretty quiet month in Mchangane. Besides teaching, studying and reading all of the books in the Hunger Games series (which I think were really good, but it could be that I was just really bored) I have not been up to too much. Two weeks ago I acquired a nice cold, which is still lingering and which I will add the list of things I have gotten in Africa.

Friday, after teaching, I met up with a few volunteers and friends in the area and we all went to Kaporogwe Falls. The falls are actually relatively close to my site, but the road to get there is unpaved and thus it takes about an hour to get there. Although it took a good chunk of time out of the day it was well worth the trip. Behind the falls is , what I believe to be, half natural, half man made outcropping cave-ish ledge that you can walk along. The mist from the falls was actually pretty refreshing along with view of the valley in the background. Honestly right now I am lacking the creativity to paint you a wonderful verbal picture, so I will add a picture I took!

After the trip to the falls I decided to decline an invitation to Nacho Night and took a late coaster back to site. On the way home, as sometimes happens, I became the entertainment for the other passengers on the coaster. The entertainment started when the conductor told me he “liked” me (Umependeza) and asked if I was married. I figured I would have some fun and told them my “husband” was back in the states, but would be coming to Tanzania soon. [If some of you think this is strange… many volunteers make up fake fiancées or spouses to avoid awkward situations, in fact Peace Corps taught us, in so many words, make up “white lies” to avoid situations] The conversation slowly changed to be between my seat neighbor and myself on the topic of where I was from and what I was doing here. I think I may have turned some heads when he asked me, “Mungu yupo?” [Is God present?] to which I responded Hiyupo [absent]. Turns out that the man was a pastor, but respected the fact that I do not go to church and do not really practice a religion. He may be the first Tanzanian who has not tried to convert me or laughed in my face. Hallelujah!

Yesterday was cleaning day. I swept out all of the rat poop in my house and washed all my laundry because my large woven basket was overflowing with clothes. Normally I am on top of my laundry, but when you have to let it sit overnight in a bucket (which requires some forethought) or scrub by hand, then rise and dry outside; one tends to avoid doing laundry like the plague. [I would like to admit here that Febreeze will save you a couple of washes on things like blankets, couch covers and jackets—ala college] After what would probably equate to two loads of laundry in the states and 12 pairs of dirty socks I pledged to separate my laundry when I get back to the states, use dryer sheets and clean out the lint filter in exchange for never having to wash clothes by hand again.

Classroom entertainment this week: I intercepted my first love note. I was giving a quiz in my Form 1A math class when I saw one of my male students attempting to pass a folded up piece of paper in his hand to a girl next to him.  I asked him to give it to me and I unfolded it and found a beautifully drawn red rose. I started to laugh out loud because that was the last thing I expected to find. Then, I thought back to high school and how I would have felt if one of my teachers caught me with such a note. I decided not to embarrass him, folded the note back up and gave it back to him after class.  I also thought that this could potentially dissolve any trust the student or other students has in me. Thinking back on it, I probably made the right decision, but I am still interested in what a Tanzo love not is actually comprised of…. I guess I may never know.

Well I hope all is well at home, that the temperatures have cooled down a bit and that everyone is enjoying their summer! Hard to believe it is almost August! Happy Early Birthday, Dad!!!

All my love from TZ

Pathway/  ledge behind the falls

Behind the falls

Valley

Update on life and the effectiveness of dyer sheets on rats

Well the first week back at site has gone pretty well. I took some time to set up the printer and laptop that was donated to our school by Kent School. I honestly cannot thank them enough for their generosity. The printer and computer will allow us to print our own exams for a reduced cost (to print one page is 700 tsh in town, while to copy is only 50 tsh…. explain that one to me). It will also, hopefully, allow my fellow teachers to learn to type. I selfishly want this because it will mean I won’t have to “help” type the 29 exams come midterm. So far the second reason for accruing the printer and laptop has backfired. Last week I ended up typing all of the A-level midterm exams (about 6 of them) because the other teachers “can’t type with speed”. After lecturing them about being self sufficient and reading them their Miranda rights of typing, I caved.  So, right here and right now, I swear that I will not type any more exams that are not mine. My fellow teachers really need to learn to type and also to not rely on me.  I am also really tired of typing an exam and then being told that I spelt a word wrong or missed a question when in actuality I didn’t, the person who wrote the exam just made a mistake. Also, if I have to type another convoluted or meaningless sentence I might drink water straight from the tap without boiling it.

As I mentioned in my previous post, my site has turned into the North Pole. Okay, well not really, but it is cold enough to see my breath at night. It is also the “dry season” here, so the electricity comes and goes as it pleases because Tanesco (the people with the electricity monopoly in Tanzania, seriously there is only one electric company in the country, ala CL&P) needs to ration the power.  BS. It is backwards that the power goes out around 6:45 pm, right when people are cooking dinner and the sun is going down and does not come back on until probably 3 am or so. Hence every dinner since I have been back has been candlelit. I guess things could be worse, like I could be out of water too and then I would be really screwed, no?

As for some fun news, I will be getting shadowers the second week in August. Part of PST (pre-service training) along with living with and being force fed by complete strangers for two months is to visit an actual PCV, live with them for the week and teach at their school. So I will get one, two, possibly three PCTs for the week of August 7^th- 14^th. They will hang out with me and teach at my school. Hopefully they can put up with the rats that live in my house, but I am pretty sure they will just be happy to not be treated like a 13 year old with a curfew and chores for a week.

Speaking of the rat(s)…..what usually takes place is one of two things: 1. I don’t hear the rat running around in my room and sleep through the night or 2. It wakes me up and I either get out of bed to chase it out of my room or I just ignore it. A few days ago the latter took place. I had a stand off with one the other day at 4 in the morning. The rat woke me up because it ran along the headboard of my bed. (Thankfully, I sleep with a mosquito net, not for the mosquitoes, but so the rats don’t run on me when I am sleeping… yes that has happened before.) The rat proceeded to climb along the window and on to the opposite side of the screen. It was making way too much noise, so I got out of bed with a sneaker and proceeded to hit it through the screen. Eventually the rat jumped out at me, I screamed, and then ran out under the door and I went back to bed.  Mom, thank you for the dryer sheets… I have found since this incident that it takes at least 3 in one area to ward off any rodents. African rats must have built in resistance….

I hope everyone is doing well at home. Things finally feel back to normal, except when a cold fog rolls in off the mountain. If I take a deep breath I could almost swear I am standing on the beach in the late afternoon when the fog rolls in.

All my love from TZ. 

There And Back Again

*The first half of this blog post was written on my way to the states for a two week visit and the second half was in segments on different days on the way back to site and at site

Crazy, but true…I can’t believe I am blogging on my back from Bongo land. In some ways it seems like I have been gone for longer than 9 months and in other ways it seems like I never left. The flight from Dar to London was about 10 hours, which after traveling more than 14 hours on a bus with one bathroom break/ stop for food was a drop in the bucket. I enjoyed a movie, a real cup of coffee, glass of wine and unlimited access to the bathroom. Upon arriving in Heathrow, I realized that I hadn’t navigated an elevator, moving sidewalk or escalator in almost a year. I had about an hour to change terminals and get to my gate. I opted to hit up the duty free shop for a bottle of Pimms rather than going to a Starbucks or even the bathroom. After almost running over an elderly couple on the moving sidewalk the guy at the gate attempted to flirt with me, casually asking for my bottle of Pimms. I attempted to come up with a witty response, but I was too tired and he was too short to make me really want to try to reciprocate. I made my flight back to Boston and will hopefully be staying up the whole way…might be a little hard because When I land in Boston it will be about 3:45am in Tanzania.

Alright, so update on the flight. The flight attendant just gave me a cup of coffee to which I responded, “Hiya. Asante”…. Woah, talk about a gut reaction. I think it is officially time to switch gears. I also need to pump the caffeine because it is going to be wicked late (for me) when I get into Boston. 

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So kids, I am on my way back to Tanzania. It is honestly surprising how fast time goes. I was listening to the radio the other day and cannot remember exactly what the man was talking about, but he alluded to the fact that time is constant, yes, but also it moves relatively as fast as you want it to.  Time seemed to move so slowly in the weeks leading up to my visit home and at home it seemed to move extraordinarily fast. I won’t bore you with all the details of home quite frankly for two reasons: 1. Most of you reading this blog entry are probably from the states or a developed country and would rather not read about how my mind was blown by how fat I thought my dog was and how during the 4^th of July fireworks I could only think how many school tuitions were being blown for 10 minutes of visual stimulation or how I went into Stop&Shop like I had never seen a grocery store in my life and walked out with…. apples and Diet Coke. 2. I am still very much in the transition process from home to ‘home’. Do not get me wrong I LOVED being back in the states for 2 weeks, but I still have unfinished business and as we all know I deal with homesickness, but not thinking about home when I do not have to.  But, I will say that I had a really relaxing time. I was able to spend time with the family, sit on the beach, get a pretty decent tan, see my friends and my extended family (you know who you are), celebrate America’s birthday with some drag queen karaoke, eat a ton of cheese, drink way more American beers than I thought I ever could (thanks 500ml Kilis), get hooked on the Bachelorette (yo, people do not judge), surf, visit law schools, fish, go to a grocery store and (almost best of all) run in and wear shorts!

Some of you may be wondering if the reverse culture shock was as bad as they say it can be or if I experienced any at all. After 9 months I can say that very small things seemed to strike me as weird and because I keep up on the news nothing seemed too new. I did however have one brief ‘freak out’ instance in Boston while visiting  and hanging out for they day with my mom. Honestly not sure if she even noticed (might have been talking on the phone with my brothers), but I was sitting on a bench and started to cry, not sure if it was the amount of white people in one area or just everything hitting me at once. Anyway, that moment was pretty much the extent of any real or major reverse culture shock.

As for my trip back to country or “home”… it was a long one to say the least. After saying goodbye to my family (honestly think part of my brain shuts off when I have to do that. I go into protection mode, like a circuit breaker in my brain gets tripped or something) I boarded a 6 hour flight to Heathrow then entertained and slept my way through an 8 hour layover. At one point I found an empty gate with seats to lie down and take a nap. Not really sure how long I was asleep for, but when I awoke, drooling, I was surrounded by people boarding a plane for Warsaw. Naturally I received a couple strange looks (… it’s an airport, people!), gathered my bags and went to find a better place to rest my head. After a 10 hour flight to TZ, I met Stella the best taxi driver in all of Dar—she also happens to be female, which is rare—and she took me to bus station, helped find my sorry ass a last minute bus to Iringa and helped carry all of my bags (75L pack, tote, duffel and printer). After an absurd 9 hours on a bus to Iringa (it should take around 6, but we left late and they were doing construction on the one paved road between Dar and Iringa) I arrived checked in to the guesti and attempted to sleep. The next morning I found a bus to Mbeya and arrived at a decent hour at site after another 6 or 7 hours of travel. All tolled I left the states at 6 am on Saturday (Tanzanian time) and arrived Monday at 3 pm, so somewhere around 57 hours of travel time. So now I am at home, alone in my house, without electricity, but with lots of goodies from America, such as balsamic vinaigrette, olive oil, drink mixes, splenda, creamer, COFFEE, Velveeta, more warm clothing and slippers—amongst other things.  

Alright, I would like to talk about something that I usually sweep under the rug, especially in my blog posts — homesickness. The last few nights I have been extremely homesick and jetlagged. I am pretty sure it is a combination of both of the aforementioned, but last night I woke up at 2 am. I had no electricity so started to read a book written by a PCV who served in TZ in the early 2000s. It seemed to be cheering me up because his point of view is very similar to mine as well as many of his experiences. After two hours when I still could not sleep I broke down for about a half an hour. I am not talking about the soft tear that rolls down your cheek; I am talking about sobbing, complete with the body shakes, deep breaths and runny nose. At the time I blamed it mainly on the fact that I was still jetlagged not able to sleep and that crying would help to me to sleep, but I would only be fooling myself if I truly believed that. It is seriously difficult to go from being on mental cruise control content with living by yourself and only talking to your family and friends on Skype or the phone, to seeing them in person for the first time in 9 months, to seeing them everyday for two weeks, to living by yourself again (with no electricity or heat in 50 degree weather).  At this point I really need to start taking my own advice. I have found a lot of comfort reading the first couple of entries in my first journal at the start of this whole adventure. I promised myself that I would take it day by day. I would ride the roller coaster of emotion (I think I hit rock bottom last night).  Sounds funny, but one reason why I decided to sign up for the Peace Corps was because in the future if I ever have children I did not want them to ask me why I did not go. If the time ever comes I know that I will tell them some times you have to do things that scare the shit out of you and things that seem hard because they make you grow as a person. Last summer I did not have a good reason not to go and I know I would have regretted my decision if I let the opportunity pass me by.

This morning I started teaching and helped my mkuu set up the new computer and printer copier that was donated by Kent, my high school. (Cannot thank them enough!). Everyone was so happy and I knew that without me it would have been extremely difficult to obtain these pieces of technology. I did nothing more than write a letter and take two phone calls, but I am glad I could help in anyway possible. I was also surprised how excited my students were to see me. The biggest high of the day was at the end of my Form 1A Math class when I told my students nimefurahi kuwaona tena (I am happy to see you all again) and my class replied they were also happy to see me again. Then, one boy stood up and started to speak in English, which has never really happened in my class before because the Form 1 students are just beginning to learn English, “Madam, we are all very happy to see you again and we really want to speak and learn more English”.  Honestly that boy will probably never know what he did for me, but he made me smile, changed my entire mood and reminded my why I am here. I will be the first to admit there have been (excuse my French) shitty times and there will be plenty more, but if my time here is sprinkled with moments like the one today this whole thing will have been completely worth it.

All my love from TZ. 

Mbeya Girls' Empowerment Conference

Hello all! Just a quick post before I depart to the States tomorrow. Last week we held our Mbeya Region Girl's Empowerment Conference. Overall the conference was a lot of fun and the girls had a great time! About 14 volunteers ran the event and brought anywhere from 3- 6 students from the ages of about 12-16. The girls and all of the volunteers stayed in dorm and held our classes at MIST (Mbeya Institute of Science and Technology). The conference covered everything from HIV/AIDS, to relationships, nutrition, condom demonstrations and making of pads. The highlight of the conference for me however was when one of my older students hit younger students for tattling on her for being loud and stealing their blanket. I decided that she should go home because leaving the conference would be punishment enough, not to mention embarrassing. Some of the Tanzanian counterparts held a meeting with the students from my school and the students from the other school to find out what really happened. Once they had established what exactly went down they did not support my decision to send her home. I thought it was pretty funny that they found my punishment too harsh when they themselves are willing to hit students with a stick or make them kneel holding rocks over their heads in the hot sun. I actually found their disapproval insulting, condescending, hypocritical and very frustrating. Who are they to punish one of my students? And who are they to judge how I punish my student? Anyway, after I told the student she had to leave she begged me to stay and asked me if I could "beat" her instead of sending her home. I was pretty surprised by this request and told her that I would not ever beat her and that leaving is a much harsher punishment than beating. I also told her it was not in my culture or morally right to beat a student and that expulsion was a just punishment for her actions.
        Other than that blessed event, the conference was a lot of fun, but also very humbling. All of our lessons were taught in Kiswahili because some of the girls do not know any English. Let me just say that being able to buy food at the market and have short conversations in Kiswahili gave me a false sense of how much Kiswahili I actually know. Granted the health volunteers have been in country longer and are used to giving lectures on the material, but I never realized how many words I did not know. Thankfully I will probably only be called upon once more to give a lesson completely in Swahili, but I will not be quick to forget how much work my language skills actually need.
       Another highlight of the event was our "disco" on the last night. Unfortunately the power went out, but it didn't stop one of the volunteers from being the mobile DJ station and walking around the dance floor blaring music from his computer, one of the other volunteers from starting a huge conga line or us from dancing by candle light!
       So hopefully everyone has been enjoying the posts. Tomorrow will officially mark 9 months in country. Crazy how fast the time goes here... Oh! Also, a big warm Karibu (welcome) to the new class of ED PCTs who arrived a little over a week ago. Hope they are handling things well. On their fourth day in country they were dropped into their home stays (our class moved in after 2 weeks in country)... probably the most terrifying, but ultimately rewarding experiences during training.
       I hope everyone is well at home! America here I come! All my love from TZ.

Glass bottles are the national currency of Tanzania?!

Sorry for the delay folks. I have been busy wrapping up things up at school. The last two weeks at school I was typing up, 29 in total, (apparently  “help type” means I will be typing all of the exams), proctoring or grading exams all day long.

Not too much has really gone on. As a group the Mbeya PCVs met two weekends ago to finalize the plans for our regional girls’ empowerment conference. The conference will take place from June 13^th - June 18^th. The conference will cover everything from healthy relationships and career options, AIDS/HIV awareness and personal hygiene. All of the sessions will be taught in Kiswahili, which will be a challenge for most of us, considering our Swahili is more geared to buying food at the market and avoiding being overcharged for transportation.

This past weekend Mexican Night was held in Tukuyu. A handful of volunteers got together for burritos, nachos and few cold beverages. It was actually a welcome break from my students, grading exams and filling out report forms. Miraculously, we found some cheese (thanks, TJ!), I made flour tortilla chips, Eric picked up some chapatti that we used for the burritos and we broke out the meat grinder for the 3 kilos of meat we bought and salsa! All in all it was a fun night and a nice break from my site.

So short story about language and the importance of the glass bottle in Tanzania:

A few months ago TJ and Kat came to visit me. Before we made dinner at my site we went into my village to get some beer. We paid the women at the duka and told her we would return the bottles the next morning. At the time I recall her saying that she would give us the rest of our change when we returned the bottles, which sounded like a fair deal to me. The next morning we left my site really early and returned all, but two of seven bottles. One of the bottles that was left was empty and the other was still unopened. I was planning on drinking the beer, but never really got around to it. About every 20^th time I walked into my village the woman would remind me that I still owed her two bottles and every time I would tell her that one bottle was still full. The next time I would bring them into the village, but her duka would be closed (Note: these conversations all took place in Swahili because the bottle lady does not speak English).  Apparently the other day was the final straw for this woman. On my way through the village she came after me screaming and making a scene. I was actually quite embarrassed because a bunch of people were witnessing this woman chew me out. She even had the nerve to tell me that she was going to tell my head master about the incident. (I would have loved to see her try, after I typed 29 exams for him…the sun literally shined out of my backside for a week there after). I offered to walk all the way back to my house with the woman and give her the bottles, but she did not want to walk all the way so I decided to bring them back the following day. I honestly did not see anything wrong with the situation because I had her bottles and she had my change. In my eyes, we were even. [I should also admit here that I am almost 100% certain that no one in my village understands the full meaning of swears in English and that I may have let more than a few slip out during our heated exchange… ] The next day I returned with one empty bottle and one unopened bottle, tracked down the woman and tried to settle the issue at hand. As it turns out the bottle lady thought that I still owed her some money along with the bottles. Honestly, let’s think about this; why would you sell something to some one if they did not pay you in full upfront? I could have sworn she owed me money, but in the end, and after some more swearing from my end, we settled the dispute. After the whole incident I am pretty sure half of my village thinks I’m insane and the other half is still wondering what the hell happened and what the hell a “f’ing piece of sh*t” it. I will say this though; sometimes my sanity is thankful that people here do not know any English and bottles are a big freaking deal.

Other than that nothing truly noteworthy has happened and to be honest if something did I might have forgotten about it because it has been so long since my last post.

Currently sitting around my site and school with not much to do. Trying to write a proposal for my secondary project, a multipurpose court, studying, reading or cleaning. I actually have to start packing soon for my trip home (once I leave for the girls’ conference on the 18th I will start heading towards Dar! 17 days and counting… Below is a full, but not exhaustive list of things I will be eating upon my return home:

1. Cheese

2. Iced Coffee

3. Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream

4. Fish Burrito

5. Dad’s meatballs, Mom’s chicken piccata or a combination of the both

6. Pad Thai

7. Bagels

8. Milk and Cereal

9. Mom’s chocolate chip cookies

10. Sam’s sandwiches

*Note: The numerical order of all of these food items is arbitrary

Congratulations, Kyle on your graduation from Cornell and Kate on your marriage!!! Also BIG FREAKIN’ congrats to Brown Women’s Crew, 2011 NCAA Division I National Champions!!!

Hope everyone is doing well at home.

All my love from TZ!