My dear, beautiful, intelligent, wonderful friends,
I'm alive, well, and as cheery (and fat) as Santa at CeCe's pizza.
I know that Christmas is the time for Jesus, presents, and Mariah Carey, but I'm hijacking it and remixing it with a Thanksgiving flare.
Today I want to tell you how thankful I am to have you all in my life, even if you are at the edge of the world (oh wait, it's ME at the edge of the world).
What would I do without your letters, text messages, phone calls, and packages? I'd be okay, sure, but they definitely keep the pep in my village step. More than anything now, it's the memories. Dazing off in a sea of cornstalks or better yet, in a five-hour meeting, my mind creeps back to senior year of college, freshman year of college, high school, and gasp, sometimes in my dreams, middle school. Wow, have we had fun.
We've had crazy fun. Reckless fun. Drunken fun. Wild fun. Foreign fun. Naked fun? Good clean fun. Food-binge fun. Marathon TV fun. Party fun. Pajama fun. Study fun. Adventure fun. Travel fun. Holiday fun. Crystal Light and Vodka fun. Gosh have we had fun.
I hear all the time that God is watching over Americans. I don't know if that's true but I know enough to know I don't understand how good I've had it. We have been privileged to the biggest luxury of all: time. We've generally got it in spades. Now that most of you have entered the real world, the 'luxury' of laying in bed til 3pm on a Tuesday is no longer an option. But generally, if you need to pencil in a little Sunday afternoon me time, it's there.
In Tanzania me time is forever we time. I'll spare you the history lesson, but African communities are collectivist, not individualist, and it's practically unheard of for an unmarried girl (yours truly) to live alone. When you live as an extended and agricultural family the work is never done. Even on Sundays, cooking and cleaning cannot be escaped. Order a pizza right? Oh, if only. Cooking takes about 3 hours per meal and cleaning is just as strenuous. There is a ritual here of sweeping dirt. It doesn't sound strange to write that now, but I remember being incredulous in the beginning so it seems valid to mention.
What I'm getting at is wow. We have made so many memories! We had the time to let the good times roll. And roll and roll and roll they did. I am literally brimming with shared moments and know that in my life there will always be time to make more. I get pretty sad sometimes thinking that my friends and family in the village never catch a break. Granted, they find more pleasure in the moment than I am capable of, it is no wonder 'take a load off' just doesn't tranlsate no matter how you dice it.
So today, I'm saying thanks. Thanks for time. Thanks for friends. Thanks for all the great things that transpired when we used our time wisely and more often, when we did not. I could probably manage without you. After all, I've taken a profound liking to talking to myself in voices. But I'm not living in a village in Africa to be a martyr. I have no intention of shaving my head and shunning the white people!
Sometimes I have to remind myself that I didn't postpone my life, I only relocated it. I have no intention of letting any of my friendships fall by the wayside. I think about you all often and with so much happiness. For living in the bush, I'm pretty persisent about communication. Even if you want to make a sneaky exit from my life, I won't let you! But that's not going to happen right?
Wherever you are and whoever you're with, happy holidays. Take it all in and enjoy. While I might be killing my dinner on Christmas Eve (and wouldn't have it any other way), I'll be thinking about every one of you. But in case I forget, you should probably give me a call to remind me of your name.
Here is a big hug for all of you. Cheers to friends!
Your pal,
Kate
Monday, December 22, 2008
Saturday, December 6, 2008
No Use Crying Over Stolen Milk
It's been a few weeks. And what a few weeks it has been! I spent Thanksgiving in Mbeya region with about 15 peace corps volunteers. We were invited (or maybe I invited myself) to a former PCV's REAL house! He had couches, carpet, and even a refrigerator. What?! And if you want the truth, I probably would have been just as satisfied without the turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green beans, pumpkin bread, and apple pie and called it a day after watching E! News Daily! For some reason the celebrities looked much oranger and thinner than I remember. Nonetheless, I went to my happy place and Tanzania seemed to fall away. Did I mention I've been dreaming about shoes recently?
If I'm reporting chronologically, I suppose I'll continue with some pretty bad news. As I was boarding the bus to Mbeya on Thanksgiving Day, my house girl called me sobbing. I had been robbed. At first she only told me they took my bicycle. Thankfully they weren't able to enter the house and as I keep my bicycle in the courtyard, that was clearly gone. After the sobbing subsided I learned that most of my clothes were stolen too. She had washed a ton since I was out of town and left them to dry overnight. While it's just 'stuff' it was MY stuff and I am still really torn up over some of the things that were taken. I'm actually far less disturbed over the loss of my fancy outdoor clothes than the really old, sentimental things. Here's a list so you can feel sad too: My softball jersey from the 4th-grade all star game (one and only time I was an all star!), my 1980's Arizona ADPi sweatshirt from my sister, and a really, really old and soft White Sox t-shirt. Waah! I counted my losses and decided to move on gracefully. A few days later I was making coffee and wanted a spoonfull of powdered milk, and realized the jerk stole my MILK! Furthermore, I had three knives, two of which were dull and worthless and one which I brought from America. Guess which one he stole? It makes me a bit furious that some person came into my courtyard and was leisurely and cocky enough to sift through all my belongings and see which he desired. Theft is an inexcusable and hurtful crime. I still adore my village and am essentially over the robbery, my trust has definitely been broken. I have to remember that it was one person, maybe two who broke it. The last thing I want to is become jaded or suspicious of the amazing, kind people of Mhaji.
Okay, that's enough of a crime report. After Thanksgiving I took the coasta ride from hell to Iringa. What would be a 4-5 hour ride on a big bus took about 10 hours in a van-type vehicle. Transport is absolutely painful in Tanzania! Iringa was a blast as always (we've decided Iringa is the Las Vegas of Tanzania) and I enjoyed enough dairy products to hold me over for awhile.
The last few weeks in the village have been slow. I've had plenty of time to think about my goals both for myself and my projects and I'm excited to get to work in earnest. School closed Friday for about six weeks so I'm going to have even MORE time on my hands now. Without the fabulous distractions of technology, there are a lot of spare hours in a day. The rainy season is also about to explode. We've had a few hard rains and I learned that my house is not quite waterproof. In fact, it flooded so badly I was walking around with my pants rolled up and using pots under the ceiling leaks. My door is about three inches above the floor so I was also treated to a lovely river/pond in my living room. And on another home repairs issue, my toilet has overflowed. And by toilet you know I mean hole. Let's not talk about that one.
Finally, a personal accomplishment. On Friday I walked to Njombe (town) from my village! It was only about 25 km, but I felt great setting a goal and reaching it! I walked with a villager and PCV friend. It took us about 5.5 hours. One hour in to the adventure, my shoe was rubbing really badly and produced a quarter-sized blister. I had to switch to flip flops which I absolutely do not recommend for long-distance walks! Nonetheless, I made sure not to complain and only after about 4 hours did I give my backpack to my village friend to carry. It was a beautiful walk that took us through villages and several kilomters of chai fields! I'm happy I did it. Will it be a habit? Aboslutely not. My legs cramped pretty badly that night but by Satuday I was doing just fine! I think a 'Go Me!' is in order.
Last night we celebrated the 40th birthday of a PCV and made a rare appearance at the Njombe disco. Oh man. I was never, never the girl who broke/lost/ruined her phone. Really, never. But last night while having a very important conference in the bathroom with a girlfriend my phone fell into the bucket of toilet water. A-that's just gross. and B-It is no longer functioning. Because my phone is essentially an extension of my hand, I'm really nervous about heading back to the vil sans communication. It might be good for me, but it might/will just be sheer torture. Parents: I will call you when I can, don't worry!
I'm not sure what the month of December will bring. I plan to spend a lot of time studying KiSwahi and continuing with my English classes. I now also tutor secondary school students twice a week in English. I also want to do a lot of thinking about what my 2 years can accomplish. We're encouraged to listen to our villagers. Surely, I can start a project but if there is no support for it, it will fail spectacularly. This will be a struggle as Tanzanians generally believe every white person is a gazillionaire. I have so far been asked to finish our health clinic ($50,000) build new toilets at the school ($2500), repair the roofs at school, and the list goes on. Not to mention the smaller requests for school fees and supplies. I will do my best to write grants and solicit funds in any way I can, but education is where I want to leave my mark.
I spent a morning at the health clinic last week weighing babies, an activity very similar to weighing vegetables at the grocery store. The lil kiddies wear a big pair of underwear with straps. They are literally hooked onto the scale and dangle for a second until the nurse records their weight. The bigger kids (3-5 year-old) simply hang on with their hands. It's pretty adorable. When I poked into the medical supply room, I was absolutley shocked to see boxes upon boxes of birth control. Family planning exists in my village! How did I miss THAT bombshell?
Alright, I keep losing my train of thought. I'm going to call it a day. I'm not sure when I'll be back in town again, but hopefully I'll have a more informative blog post next time.
Thanks again for your love and support. And a VERY SPECIAL SHOUT OUT GOES TO BECKY DEAN who sent me one of the most incredible care packages a girl could dream of. How did you know Ranch Wheat Thins were the key to my heart? Thank you thank you thank you!
Hope everyone had a happy Thanksgiving. Enjoy Christmas music, malls, and the delicious wintry concoctions of Starbucks.
Lots of love!
If I'm reporting chronologically, I suppose I'll continue with some pretty bad news. As I was boarding the bus to Mbeya on Thanksgiving Day, my house girl called me sobbing. I had been robbed. At first she only told me they took my bicycle. Thankfully they weren't able to enter the house and as I keep my bicycle in the courtyard, that was clearly gone. After the sobbing subsided I learned that most of my clothes were stolen too. She had washed a ton since I was out of town and left them to dry overnight. While it's just 'stuff' it was MY stuff and I am still really torn up over some of the things that were taken. I'm actually far less disturbed over the loss of my fancy outdoor clothes than the really old, sentimental things. Here's a list so you can feel sad too: My softball jersey from the 4th-grade all star game (one and only time I was an all star!), my 1980's Arizona ADPi sweatshirt from my sister, and a really, really old and soft White Sox t-shirt. Waah! I counted my losses and decided to move on gracefully. A few days later I was making coffee and wanted a spoonfull of powdered milk, and realized the jerk stole my MILK! Furthermore, I had three knives, two of which were dull and worthless and one which I brought from America. Guess which one he stole? It makes me a bit furious that some person came into my courtyard and was leisurely and cocky enough to sift through all my belongings and see which he desired. Theft is an inexcusable and hurtful crime. I still adore my village and am essentially over the robbery, my trust has definitely been broken. I have to remember that it was one person, maybe two who broke it. The last thing I want to is become jaded or suspicious of the amazing, kind people of Mhaji.
Okay, that's enough of a crime report. After Thanksgiving I took the coasta ride from hell to Iringa. What would be a 4-5 hour ride on a big bus took about 10 hours in a van-type vehicle. Transport is absolutely painful in Tanzania! Iringa was a blast as always (we've decided Iringa is the Las Vegas of Tanzania) and I enjoyed enough dairy products to hold me over for awhile.
The last few weeks in the village have been slow. I've had plenty of time to think about my goals both for myself and my projects and I'm excited to get to work in earnest. School closed Friday for about six weeks so I'm going to have even MORE time on my hands now. Without the fabulous distractions of technology, there are a lot of spare hours in a day. The rainy season is also about to explode. We've had a few hard rains and I learned that my house is not quite waterproof. In fact, it flooded so badly I was walking around with my pants rolled up and using pots under the ceiling leaks. My door is about three inches above the floor so I was also treated to a lovely river/pond in my living room. And on another home repairs issue, my toilet has overflowed. And by toilet you know I mean hole. Let's not talk about that one.
Finally, a personal accomplishment. On Friday I walked to Njombe (town) from my village! It was only about 25 km, but I felt great setting a goal and reaching it! I walked with a villager and PCV friend. It took us about 5.5 hours. One hour in to the adventure, my shoe was rubbing really badly and produced a quarter-sized blister. I had to switch to flip flops which I absolutely do not recommend for long-distance walks! Nonetheless, I made sure not to complain and only after about 4 hours did I give my backpack to my village friend to carry. It was a beautiful walk that took us through villages and several kilomters of chai fields! I'm happy I did it. Will it be a habit? Aboslutely not. My legs cramped pretty badly that night but by Satuday I was doing just fine! I think a 'Go Me!' is in order.
Last night we celebrated the 40th birthday of a PCV and made a rare appearance at the Njombe disco. Oh man. I was never, never the girl who broke/lost/ruined her phone. Really, never. But last night while having a very important conference in the bathroom with a girlfriend my phone fell into the bucket of toilet water. A-that's just gross. and B-It is no longer functioning. Because my phone is essentially an extension of my hand, I'm really nervous about heading back to the vil sans communication. It might be good for me, but it might/will just be sheer torture. Parents: I will call you when I can, don't worry!
I'm not sure what the month of December will bring. I plan to spend a lot of time studying KiSwahi and continuing with my English classes. I now also tutor secondary school students twice a week in English. I also want to do a lot of thinking about what my 2 years can accomplish. We're encouraged to listen to our villagers. Surely, I can start a project but if there is no support for it, it will fail spectacularly. This will be a struggle as Tanzanians generally believe every white person is a gazillionaire. I have so far been asked to finish our health clinic ($50,000) build new toilets at the school ($2500), repair the roofs at school, and the list goes on. Not to mention the smaller requests for school fees and supplies. I will do my best to write grants and solicit funds in any way I can, but education is where I want to leave my mark.
I spent a morning at the health clinic last week weighing babies, an activity very similar to weighing vegetables at the grocery store. The lil kiddies wear a big pair of underwear with straps. They are literally hooked onto the scale and dangle for a second until the nurse records their weight. The bigger kids (3-5 year-old) simply hang on with their hands. It's pretty adorable. When I poked into the medical supply room, I was absolutley shocked to see boxes upon boxes of birth control. Family planning exists in my village! How did I miss THAT bombshell?
Alright, I keep losing my train of thought. I'm going to call it a day. I'm not sure when I'll be back in town again, but hopefully I'll have a more informative blog post next time.
Thanks again for your love and support. And a VERY SPECIAL SHOUT OUT GOES TO BECKY DEAN who sent me one of the most incredible care packages a girl could dream of. How did you know Ranch Wheat Thins were the key to my heart? Thank you thank you thank you!
Hope everyone had a happy Thanksgiving. Enjoy Christmas music, malls, and the delicious wintry concoctions of Starbucks.
Lots of love!
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Time
This week marks the longest amount of time I've been out of America-5 months 1.5 weeks. After a semester abroad in Cape Town I was so ready to get home. Life ceased to be special and different and I yearned to leave what I then considered to be the 3rd world. Ha! This experience is paced differently and I feel on one hand that I've only just arrived and on the other that I've already been changed forever. Perhaps the expiration date, 2 years and 3 months, has better equipped me to handle the ups and downs in a more rational manner. To be homesick now would be a disasterous hurdle. I wasn't sure how I'd feel after 1 month in Tanzania, or 2 or 5, and now bordering on the start of my 6th month, I am far more stable than I imagined.
My biggest fear was coming here, something that was essentially in the making since I was five years-old, and hating it. The Peace Corps isn't for everyone and the early termination statistics are very high. I wasn't sure if I had it in me. I knew pride and ego would be enough to make me stick it out for the first 6 months. I was prepared to grin and bear it and make up an excuse to high tail it outta here. Thankfully, this scenario was all just the result of an excessive imagination and bad self-esteem!
Life continues to scoot along and the pace is just right. I've been pushing myself hard to be visible, work hard, and set a good example. It's exhausting really, but it's an uphill battle that I'm currently winning. There are many days where the guilt is overpowering. If I decide to go into town for a party or spend an afternoon reading in my bedroom and ignoring the kids pounding on my door, I actually feel like a bad person. This feeling of obligation is something that manifests itself constantly and in many situations. I don't know how I'll settle this but for now I am reminding myself that I am here for 2 years. If going to town for a long weekend inhibits me from creating sustainable projects that can thrive long after I'm gone, then I'm clearly not working smartly. This job has a lot of downtime, but in many ways I'm never really off the clock. If I'm speaking KiSwahili, I'm working. If I'm walking down the road, I'm working. It's no wonder I tumble into bed at 8:30/9 pm and sleep for 10 hours.
Ahh, I only have 3 minutes of internet left and lots of errands to run! On a final note, I have a kitty! She is absolutely adorable. The animals are so stunted and malnourished here that their offspring are bite sized little critters no more threatening than a stuffed animal. Unfortunately my cat sucks. She has fleas in her ears and butthole and more self-entitlement than reasonable for a bush cat. I've never been a cat person and it's clear why. I have her to ward off rats but in a wrestling match, I'm not sure if she'd even triumph. Let's just say if little kitty goes a missin, I won't be heading up any search parties. Cats are actually a delicasse in these parts, but I promise to draw the line at kitty souflet. Even if she continues to jump on my table or meow incessently. The second I get a flea tho, home girl is gettin the boot to the courtyard.
Alright, back to the vil for the week. Thanksgiving is just around the corner. Today I am thankful for my health, my friends and family in America and Tanzania and well...salt and vinegar pringles available just down the street.
My biggest fear was coming here, something that was essentially in the making since I was five years-old, and hating it. The Peace Corps isn't for everyone and the early termination statistics are very high. I wasn't sure if I had it in me. I knew pride and ego would be enough to make me stick it out for the first 6 months. I was prepared to grin and bear it and make up an excuse to high tail it outta here. Thankfully, this scenario was all just the result of an excessive imagination and bad self-esteem!
Life continues to scoot along and the pace is just right. I've been pushing myself hard to be visible, work hard, and set a good example. It's exhausting really, but it's an uphill battle that I'm currently winning. There are many days where the guilt is overpowering. If I decide to go into town for a party or spend an afternoon reading in my bedroom and ignoring the kids pounding on my door, I actually feel like a bad person. This feeling of obligation is something that manifests itself constantly and in many situations. I don't know how I'll settle this but for now I am reminding myself that I am here for 2 years. If going to town for a long weekend inhibits me from creating sustainable projects that can thrive long after I'm gone, then I'm clearly not working smartly. This job has a lot of downtime, but in many ways I'm never really off the clock. If I'm speaking KiSwahili, I'm working. If I'm walking down the road, I'm working. It's no wonder I tumble into bed at 8:30/9 pm and sleep for 10 hours.
Ahh, I only have 3 minutes of internet left and lots of errands to run! On a final note, I have a kitty! She is absolutely adorable. The animals are so stunted and malnourished here that their offspring are bite sized little critters no more threatening than a stuffed animal. Unfortunately my cat sucks. She has fleas in her ears and butthole and more self-entitlement than reasonable for a bush cat. I've never been a cat person and it's clear why. I have her to ward off rats but in a wrestling match, I'm not sure if she'd even triumph. Let's just say if little kitty goes a missin, I won't be heading up any search parties. Cats are actually a delicasse in these parts, but I promise to draw the line at kitty souflet. Even if she continues to jump on my table or meow incessently. The second I get a flea tho, home girl is gettin the boot to the courtyard.
Alright, back to the vil for the week. Thanksgiving is just around the corner. Today I am thankful for my health, my friends and family in America and Tanzania and well...salt and vinegar pringles available just down the street.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
So Little To Do, So Much Time...Scratch That, Reverse It!
Pictures:
1. My girlfriends/Peace Corps Sorority at a party
2. Cooking beans. This is the same stove I make my regionally-praised brownies!
3. A part of my garden! I'm growing mchicha (Tanzanian spinach and tomotoes)
4. Some updates to my house
5. New wall art!
Hello again! I've neglected you all for a few weeks. Pole (Sorry)!
No need to worry. I'm alive and well. And HAPPY.
I've begun work in earnest and am now a "teacher" at two primary schools. My adult English club started this week and the students are so motivated. We've had two lessons: greetings and self-introduction. Let me just say my heart sings when these grown men stumble, fumble, and finally create a sentence! It's a strange surge of pride and excitement. I explained an English concept to them in Kiswahili and they were able to process it and turn it into English. For awhile I was not enthused about teaching English to my villagers. It's absolutely the language of commerce and practically universal. However, most people in my village don't have enough money to catch the bus into town let alone travel outside of Tanzania so wouldn't it just be wasting everyone's time? Not so! My 'star' student already knowns a small amount of conversational English. He is a business man that travels to neighboring countries to buy machines to make school uniforms. His business is being held back by his restricted English abilities. However, with a few months of weekly practice, he has an opportunity to make better or new contacts in places like South Africa and Malawi. He can actually profit financially from sitting in my classroom twice a week reading the ridiculous dialogues I make up each lesson. Yes!
My other students are younger men. They do assorted work in the village like fishing, transporting goods on their bikes and of course farming. To boost them into functional English fluency, they could eventually find stable, well paying jobs in town at hotels or restaurants catering to tourists. Regardless of their employment goals, learning English is part of that overall curriculum I mentioned in which broadening one's world-perspective and leads to creating a life beyond subsistence.
The women's business group is set to take off Saturday morning at my house. I'm hosting chai and a cake baking lesson! I'll keep you posted on the outcome.
Socially speaking, my life is a hoot. Let me just say that Peace Corps volunteers are like the sorority and fraternity members of the international traveling community. We know how to have a good party. Now that I am a former sorority girl AND a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV), my unofficial title as Social Director is slowly coming to fruition. This is a title I will hold with pride and perserverence. Already in the works is a Thanksgiving fiesta in Iringa (big town about 5 hours away), a surprise birthday party for a volunteer friend, and a massive NYE bash on the beach in Dar es Salaam. No matter where you are, everybody's workin for the weekend, right?
Granted, life in the vil is an absolute circus. I've been possessed by good KiSwa spirits this week and have passed a real milestone with my language. I'm feeling more comfortable and capable than ever in communication with Tanzanians. I'm also increasing my vocabulary in the tribal language of KiBena. At this point I can only exchange greetings, but it's enough to get a big laugh and a handshake out of strangers.
Guess what? Life is good! I'm a happy, happy camper and eager to jump into a new week with enthusiasm and perserverence.
How did I neglect to mention OBAMA OBAMA OBAMA! On behalf of PCVs and about 90% of Tanzanians, THANK YOU AMERICA FOR MAKING THE RIGHT DECISION! I was fortunate enough to be watching news coverage in town the moment the West Coast polls closed and Obama officially pulled it off. After watching his victory speech with a gaggle of assorted Europeans, Tanzanian waitstaff at the hotel, and friends, I feel so much renewed hope and excitement for the future of America! The feeling is contagious and everyone including Italians, Swiss, Germans, and Tanzanians alike were hooting, hollering, and cheering for Change!
On a final note, I've received some interest in connecting you, my fabulous blog readers to Tanzania and an opportunity to help my new friends and family. I have several ideas and would love your feedback!
Most of my villagers don't have shoes. They might have one pair of taped together shower flip flops that serve as their only footwear. In the coming months the weather actually dips to nearly freezing (believe it!) and walking barefoot will no longer be pleasant. Being barefoot while farming or completing activities is not only dangerous but unhygeinic. If anyone is part of a school or church community and would be interested in hosting a winter 'lightly-used-shoe-drive' please contact me!
School supplies are also considered a luxury here. Some students don't have enough money to buy even a 10 cent notebook and therefore must sit and listen to lessons without completing assigned exercises or taking notes. Teachers also humiliate or beat them for not being prepared for class. Items like notebooks, pencils, small pencil sharpeners, crayons, markers, etc. could mean the difference between success and failure in a student's academic career. Kids also have no opportunity to explore artistic and creative outlets. Starting an art club would be an AMAZING after-school activity that could also be used as a platform to promote goals and good decision making skills.
Also, the orphan population in the village is astronomical. Of approximately 450 students at my primary school, 60 are living without either parent. An additional 70 or so have one living parent. This is a tragedy. It is clear my job as an AIDS educator is lucrative. It is a burden I take humbly and with great care. However, for these children, it's too late. Many are bright, not to mention, ADORABLE kids. They attend school now with the definititive knowledge that they will end and become farmers after grade 7. While extended family may help feed and house them, there is not any option for furthering education. If anyone would be interested in sponsporing some of these children to attend secondary school, you would actually be changing their lives. To give someone the gift of education is giving them the gift of self-reliance and hope for every generation to follow. I know I may be sounding dangerously like a Save the Children 2:00am infomercial, but the best way to ensure sustainable development in the village, is through education. The fees for a secondary student that does not board at school are under $100 a year.
I'm not expecting or requesting finanicial assistance from anyone. I am grateful that you can share this wild ride with me and get to know this little corner of the world a bit better. By giving humanity and life to The Wild that is Africa, we're already making progress. However, tis the season of giving, and if you feel obliged, we can work together to find a project, a person, or a cause that best suits your interests and match that with the needs of Mhaji.
Thanks for the continued support. Love to everyone!
Kate
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Back to Business
It's Monday, 8:53am and in a few hours I'm headed back to the vil. I plan to stay at site for 2 weeks and reconvene in town for a wild Halloween party! Saturday was a ridiculous going away party for just finishing education volunteers. About 25 PCVs hired a lorrie and hopped in the back. We cracked open our crates of beer and belted out an enthusiastic medley of Disney, 80s, and classic pop music en route to the Flower Farm.
The Flower Farm is an absolutey gorgeous farm about an hour from town where roses are grown and sold to European markets. The owners are a young, married couple who have always had a good rapport with PCVs. It was a wild party-to say the very least. Imagine about 40 people, generally unkempt and a little strange after months to years living in a rural village. Lots of beverages, great music, and wide open spaces. I think I'm still recovering.
As for the series of random events that punctuates my new life, this week included a wood chopping session. I was greeting some farmers on the road and having seen them 2 days in a row chopping trees apart with axes, decided what better opportunity than to integrate with new people? I began chopping (sometimes missing the tree altogether) and soon had a crowd of people cheering me on as the sweat began to pour and my hands quickly lost feeling. Eventually a bibi (grandmother) took the axe from my hand and showed me how to really cut timber. Ha, she was probably 60+ and showing ME correct wood-chopping form. Oy. Suffice it to say, after my brief forray into farm labor, my right hand (my TEXTING hand!!) was completely frozen in a most unsettling, claw-like manner. My body was so sore that night that it was hard to sleep. Take home story: Go me, I chopped wood! It was extremely empowering and I look forward to investigating more opportunties to play farm hand.
This week was really busy. I hesitate to use the word productive because, well, that word has a very different meaning in Tanzania. I did, however, conduct a village meeting! Only about 25 people showed up but I was content. Speaking to really large groups in KiSwahili isn't quite a feasible option just yet. The meeting was a needs assessment program in which men and women sat in separate groups and anaylzed their entire day from morning to night. Dear lord, a woman's job is never done!
Sample schedule for a Tanzanian woman:
6:00am: Wake up
6:00am-7:00am: Light jiko, boil water for chai, sweep house, sweep dirt outside house
7:00am: Drink chai
7:30am-8:30am: Walk to the spring or water pump (if it's working), fill up bucks of water, carry them back in hands and on head
8:30-10:00am: Mop floor, wash clothes by hand (obviously), tend to children, and any livestock or chickens
10:00-1:00pm: Walk to the shamba (field) and tend to farm
1:00-2:00pm: Cook and eat lunch (ugali and maybe, MAYBE some leafy greens)
2:00-3:00pm: Rest
3:00-6:00pm: Back to the shamba or walk around selling tomatoes/eggs/etc
6:00-7:00pm: More household chores, bringing in goats from grazing, beating corn, etc
7:00-9:00pm: Cook and eat dinner
9:30pm-10pm: SLEEP
Rinse and repeat. EVERY SINGLE DAY. Except Sunday, then you pray too.
This rigorous schedule gets me back to the most interesting topic of all in a place like the village: Time. The people of Mhaji aren't working for the weekend. They're not saving for a Disney Cruise with the kiddies or for their annual summer trip to San Diego. In fact, most are only growing enough food to feed their children. In Tanzania, a meeting may start 3 hours late and no one bats an eyelash. I'm beginning to understand why. I've mentioned this concept before. People are the constant in Tanzania and time merely the variable. If you see your neighbor in need of help on the way to a meeting, you help your neighbor. If you are late for a meeting and you are invited to chai, you're going to be very late for your meeting. It sounds completely inefficient and in fact, it is! But when everyday is the same and emotion only really heightened for weddings and funerals, what's the point of planning for the future, right?
I now see clearly the 'logic' behind the difference of time in America and Africa. In hte hustle bustle of the American work place time is quite truthfully, money. But in Tanzania, no one has money! Time is people. Truthfully, I think both concepts of time are flawed. I'm obviously not here to help people start a 401K or invest in mutual funds, but I am hoping to broaden the world perspective of my villagers. I have only started thinking this through, but I want to shape a curriculum of sorts to get my community seeing beyond the day to day.
First and foremost, I must begin teaching geography! I am asked daily if I can get to America by car, how far away it is, and where in Europe America is. Ahhh. There is something to be said about being able to visualize the entire world, if only vaguely and marked by continents. Even that smallest exercise can push the mind to wonder what's out there beyond corn fields and poverty. I'm often asked what's the English word for said object. I giggle and say, Marekani, hamna! (In America, there isn't any). I tell them, no, we don't eat ugali, and they gasp. What do you farm in America, they wonder. Tanzanians also happen to think Americans are extremely wealthy (generally true in comparison) and also lazy because machines do every thing for us. They can't really imagine what these machines look like or how they work, but they know we must not be able to handle any labor. They also refuse to believe there are homeless or poor people who are white. Sometimes when I'm going for theatrics, I tell them I drive a car, ALL BY MYSELF. Now that is just madness, right!
Anyway, to build on this curriculum of sorts, I am beginning English for adults next week. It's going to be a really big challenge, but I figure after the first few weeks only the really dedicated people will stay. I even promised to buy anyone who stays in the club for 2 months their very own notebook! Trust me, that is a huge incentive here.
I taught 6th grade English last Wednesday. Whew, teaching is hard. Especially with Tanzanian primary students. I swear they're like obedient robots. They speak in unison, say they understand everything, and refuse to ask questions. I have absolutely no clue how much they retained or even understood from my lesson. I tried to be a cool mwalimu (teacher) and play a game. They said they understood the rules but when I asked for the answers I got blank stares. Not one student had done it correctly.
I begin teaching 5th and 6th grade lifeskills this week. I haven't prepared my lesson yet, but I'm really looking forward to it.
This blog is getting REALLY out of hand in length, pole (sorry/I pity you).
I have 2 more thoughts rolling around in my increasingly scattered mind. First, I am in Tanzania to be a health teacher. What does that even mean? I don't know if I'm actually capable of making health education a full time job. Right now I don't even know if that's the most productive way I can spend 2 years in the bush. I'm realizing education period is where all of the shagala bagala (chaos) starts and ends. Most students can't progress to secondary school because there is no money to send them. They become substistance farmers. They are forced into a life of poverty and food/livelihood insecurity. They then have children and the cycle continues. Let's not even get started on the type of trouble a 13 year-old can find once they've finished their academic career. That's where unprotected sex, AIDS, alcoholism, and abuse thrive.
Quick side note: gas is expensive in America, right? Right. Well, in Tanzania too. That shouldn't matter because who in a village drives a car let alone sits in one? Almost no one. We should be safe from the uncertain economy in our little niche of forest. Not so. The cost of fuel has increased the cost of fertilizer to about $100/acre for potatoes and about $70/acre for corn. People do not have this money. How are they going to eat when they can't plant their crops? Honestly, I don't know and I'm really worried. This means that even less children will be going to school in the coming year and it also means a looming food crisis.
I'm 22, with 2 debatably useless college degrees, and not even a single economics class under my belt. On the flip side, I know that drinking liquor and breastfeeding is a VERY bad idea, brushing your teeth is important, and AIDS is not a curse. I also know that with a little duct tape and a few twigs, anything is possible in the village. This is why I'm starting a "Women's Business Association." :) I'm working on getting a group of mamas together to produce items that are easily and cheaply made and can be sold for modest sums. My goal is to find a niche product that can be sold in towns and in America to friends and family. I use really great purses and coin pouches made from vibrant African fabrics and want my mamas to replicate them. The labor will all be logged and the money will be distributed by hours worked. $1 can go a very long way here. (For instance: I bought a kilo of rice for about $1 (which is expensive and considered rich people's food generally). That 1 kilo will last me several weeks.)
By having a supplemental income, I'm hoping more children will be able to progress to secondary school. I also want women to have more options. By giving them the opportunity to be self-reliant income generators, they can potentially be empowered to consider things like family planning, not cowering to abuse, and pursuing their own further education.
And FINALLY, last order of business. Our health clinic is currently a foundation of bricks. The village simply ran out of money. The bricks are only plastered about 6 feet high and what will be the floor is weeds and dirt. The current health clinic is a joke with no furntiture and about 2 rooms. I asked a village leader how much money it would take to finish the dispensary and he said about $2000. That would provide a roof, windows, floor, labor, and furniture. To a village like Mhaji, $2000 may never come. While I am a health EDUCATION volunteer and therefore my job is to provide information, not money, I simply cannot find a reason why my village would be better off not having a functioning health clinic! Unfortunately I won't be learning to write a grant until January and even then it's an uncertain and slow process. Nonetheless, I am determined to get this thing built.
Okay, I really have to stop writing. In a future entry: why medicine is free but no one has access to it.
Thanks for hangin in there to the end. Have a wonderful week and I strongly encourage you to skype me!
Lots of love,
Katie
The Flower Farm is an absolutey gorgeous farm about an hour from town where roses are grown and sold to European markets. The owners are a young, married couple who have always had a good rapport with PCVs. It was a wild party-to say the very least. Imagine about 40 people, generally unkempt and a little strange after months to years living in a rural village. Lots of beverages, great music, and wide open spaces. I think I'm still recovering.
As for the series of random events that punctuates my new life, this week included a wood chopping session. I was greeting some farmers on the road and having seen them 2 days in a row chopping trees apart with axes, decided what better opportunity than to integrate with new people? I began chopping (sometimes missing the tree altogether) and soon had a crowd of people cheering me on as the sweat began to pour and my hands quickly lost feeling. Eventually a bibi (grandmother) took the axe from my hand and showed me how to really cut timber. Ha, she was probably 60+ and showing ME correct wood-chopping form. Oy. Suffice it to say, after my brief forray into farm labor, my right hand (my TEXTING hand!!) was completely frozen in a most unsettling, claw-like manner. My body was so sore that night that it was hard to sleep. Take home story: Go me, I chopped wood! It was extremely empowering and I look forward to investigating more opportunties to play farm hand.
This week was really busy. I hesitate to use the word productive because, well, that word has a very different meaning in Tanzania. I did, however, conduct a village meeting! Only about 25 people showed up but I was content. Speaking to really large groups in KiSwahili isn't quite a feasible option just yet. The meeting was a needs assessment program in which men and women sat in separate groups and anaylzed their entire day from morning to night. Dear lord, a woman's job is never done!
Sample schedule for a Tanzanian woman:
6:00am: Wake up
6:00am-7:00am: Light jiko, boil water for chai, sweep house, sweep dirt outside house
7:00am: Drink chai
7:30am-8:30am: Walk to the spring or water pump (if it's working), fill up bucks of water, carry them back in hands and on head
8:30-10:00am: Mop floor, wash clothes by hand (obviously), tend to children, and any livestock or chickens
10:00-1:00pm: Walk to the shamba (field) and tend to farm
1:00-2:00pm: Cook and eat lunch (ugali and maybe, MAYBE some leafy greens)
2:00-3:00pm: Rest
3:00-6:00pm: Back to the shamba or walk around selling tomatoes/eggs/etc
6:00-7:00pm: More household chores, bringing in goats from grazing, beating corn, etc
7:00-9:00pm: Cook and eat dinner
9:30pm-10pm: SLEEP
Rinse and repeat. EVERY SINGLE DAY. Except Sunday, then you pray too.
This rigorous schedule gets me back to the most interesting topic of all in a place like the village: Time. The people of Mhaji aren't working for the weekend. They're not saving for a Disney Cruise with the kiddies or for their annual summer trip to San Diego. In fact, most are only growing enough food to feed their children. In Tanzania, a meeting may start 3 hours late and no one bats an eyelash. I'm beginning to understand why. I've mentioned this concept before. People are the constant in Tanzania and time merely the variable. If you see your neighbor in need of help on the way to a meeting, you help your neighbor. If you are late for a meeting and you are invited to chai, you're going to be very late for your meeting. It sounds completely inefficient and in fact, it is! But when everyday is the same and emotion only really heightened for weddings and funerals, what's the point of planning for the future, right?
I now see clearly the 'logic' behind the difference of time in America and Africa. In hte hustle bustle of the American work place time is quite truthfully, money. But in Tanzania, no one has money! Time is people. Truthfully, I think both concepts of time are flawed. I'm obviously not here to help people start a 401K or invest in mutual funds, but I am hoping to broaden the world perspective of my villagers. I have only started thinking this through, but I want to shape a curriculum of sorts to get my community seeing beyond the day to day.
First and foremost, I must begin teaching geography! I am asked daily if I can get to America by car, how far away it is, and where in Europe America is. Ahhh. There is something to be said about being able to visualize the entire world, if only vaguely and marked by continents. Even that smallest exercise can push the mind to wonder what's out there beyond corn fields and poverty. I'm often asked what's the English word for said object. I giggle and say, Marekani, hamna! (In America, there isn't any). I tell them, no, we don't eat ugali, and they gasp. What do you farm in America, they wonder. Tanzanians also happen to think Americans are extremely wealthy (generally true in comparison) and also lazy because machines do every thing for us. They can't really imagine what these machines look like or how they work, but they know we must not be able to handle any labor. They also refuse to believe there are homeless or poor people who are white. Sometimes when I'm going for theatrics, I tell them I drive a car, ALL BY MYSELF. Now that is just madness, right!
Anyway, to build on this curriculum of sorts, I am beginning English for adults next week. It's going to be a really big challenge, but I figure after the first few weeks only the really dedicated people will stay. I even promised to buy anyone who stays in the club for 2 months their very own notebook! Trust me, that is a huge incentive here.
I taught 6th grade English last Wednesday. Whew, teaching is hard. Especially with Tanzanian primary students. I swear they're like obedient robots. They speak in unison, say they understand everything, and refuse to ask questions. I have absolutely no clue how much they retained or even understood from my lesson. I tried to be a cool mwalimu (teacher) and play a game. They said they understood the rules but when I asked for the answers I got blank stares. Not one student had done it correctly.
I begin teaching 5th and 6th grade lifeskills this week. I haven't prepared my lesson yet, but I'm really looking forward to it.
This blog is getting REALLY out of hand in length, pole (sorry/I pity you).
I have 2 more thoughts rolling around in my increasingly scattered mind. First, I am in Tanzania to be a health teacher. What does that even mean? I don't know if I'm actually capable of making health education a full time job. Right now I don't even know if that's the most productive way I can spend 2 years in the bush. I'm realizing education period is where all of the shagala bagala (chaos) starts and ends. Most students can't progress to secondary school because there is no money to send them. They become substistance farmers. They are forced into a life of poverty and food/livelihood insecurity. They then have children and the cycle continues. Let's not even get started on the type of trouble a 13 year-old can find once they've finished their academic career. That's where unprotected sex, AIDS, alcoholism, and abuse thrive.
Quick side note: gas is expensive in America, right? Right. Well, in Tanzania too. That shouldn't matter because who in a village drives a car let alone sits in one? Almost no one. We should be safe from the uncertain economy in our little niche of forest. Not so. The cost of fuel has increased the cost of fertilizer to about $100/acre for potatoes and about $70/acre for corn. People do not have this money. How are they going to eat when they can't plant their crops? Honestly, I don't know and I'm really worried. This means that even less children will be going to school in the coming year and it also means a looming food crisis.
I'm 22, with 2 debatably useless college degrees, and not even a single economics class under my belt. On the flip side, I know that drinking liquor and breastfeeding is a VERY bad idea, brushing your teeth is important, and AIDS is not a curse. I also know that with a little duct tape and a few twigs, anything is possible in the village. This is why I'm starting a "Women's Business Association." :) I'm working on getting a group of mamas together to produce items that are easily and cheaply made and can be sold for modest sums. My goal is to find a niche product that can be sold in towns and in America to friends and family. I use really great purses and coin pouches made from vibrant African fabrics and want my mamas to replicate them. The labor will all be logged and the money will be distributed by hours worked. $1 can go a very long way here. (For instance: I bought a kilo of rice for about $1 (which is expensive and considered rich people's food generally). That 1 kilo will last me several weeks.)
By having a supplemental income, I'm hoping more children will be able to progress to secondary school. I also want women to have more options. By giving them the opportunity to be self-reliant income generators, they can potentially be empowered to consider things like family planning, not cowering to abuse, and pursuing their own further education.
And FINALLY, last order of business. Our health clinic is currently a foundation of bricks. The village simply ran out of money. The bricks are only plastered about 6 feet high and what will be the floor is weeds and dirt. The current health clinic is a joke with no furntiture and about 2 rooms. I asked a village leader how much money it would take to finish the dispensary and he said about $2000. That would provide a roof, windows, floor, labor, and furniture. To a village like Mhaji, $2000 may never come. While I am a health EDUCATION volunteer and therefore my job is to provide information, not money, I simply cannot find a reason why my village would be better off not having a functioning health clinic! Unfortunately I won't be learning to write a grant until January and even then it's an uncertain and slow process. Nonetheless, I am determined to get this thing built.
Okay, I really have to stop writing. In a future entry: why medicine is free but no one has access to it.
Thanks for hangin in there to the end. Have a wonderful week and I strongly encourage you to skype me!
Lots of love,
Katie
Friday, October 10, 2008
So I Got Punched in the Face...
I'm just in town for a day trip so this will be short and incoherent! Surfed to town again, this time on one leg. I had to have been in some very impressive yoga form because my body was contorted to entirely new bus riding proportions. Unfortunately, I am the least zen person on this universe and yoga is something I proudly claim to know nothing about.
Regardless, here I am. Okay, I lied. I am pretty zen right now. The second my fingers can clip clip across the keys I slip into this crazy trance where the world falls away and I could be anywhere. It's fantastic.
This was a busy week! Busy by village standards of course. On Tuesday I taught an English class. It was hilarious because I received the lesson upon walking in the door and actually had the concept all wrong. I was going to teach the meaning of which. Who really remembers that which ONLY modifies subjects and who modifies people? I sure didn't. The principal who was in the classroom with me seemed really worried. I somehow played it off like it was a lost in translation problem, but OOPS! I teach English again next Wednesday and will get the lesson on Monday.
On Thursday, my new Dutch friends came to Mhaji! I woke up very early like a good Tanzanian hostess and started cooking chai. I made food from basic ingredients! Woohoo. No more just add water and stir, I'm an mpishi (cook)-in-training now. They arrived, had chai, and the guys went off to do some interviews for a water filter their designing, and the girl, Marie, stayed with me. We went to a meeting in which I arranged quite a bit for next week, and then returned home to cook a meal for 6 people! Ahh, KAZI! (Work!) They headed back to town around 4, but are actually coming back today (the reason for me coming to town). We're going to have a little party at my house and make Mexican food and brownies.
Oh this is a little gem. On Wednesday, one of my girlfriends (12yrs) asked if I'd come on a walk with her in the evening to the next village. Ok, what else have I got to do right? Well, we leave around 5:30, walk a few km, and then I find out it's not a pleasant sunset stroll. No no. We approach a house and are given 2 massive watering cans. We proceed down a mountain, fill up our cans in a spring and start watering a field of avocado trees! KAZIIIII. We arrive back and it's pitch black.
Yesterday, I was invited to a wedding. I was told don't worry, it's not too far. It was about 5km walking, no biggie. I'm not THAT outta shape. We get there, and I immidiately become a spectacle. I knew that would happen, so no biggie. I sat on benches with all the parents and old people and was generally gawked at for a few hours. Well, just before it was my turn to dance/walk up to the wedding party and give them my gift (a big bar of soap wrapped in newspaper), a little girl I was with started falling off a bench. As I reached to grab here, her big sister noticed and reacted in such a way that HER ELBOW SLAMMED FULL SPEED INTO MY NOSE. Holy lord it hurt. I refused to cry but the tears were still pouring out. I started swallowing some blood but thankfully none dripped on the bride's pretty dress! No one actually saw what happened and I knew if I said anything they'd probably beat the girl that hit me. So, when people asked why I was sad I just pretended like I didn't understand Kiswa for a few minutes and the issue was dropped in the chaos of our dance/walk to the head table.
I wish I could elaborate more but I only have a few minutes left on the internet and lots of errands! I'm headed to the post office now with fingers crossed for fabulous letters.
Next week is crazy busy and next weekend there is a big party just outside of town with expats and Peace Corps volunteers. It will be nuts. In two weeks I begin teaching life skills to 5th and 6th graders! In Kiswahili. Ah! Technically we're not supposed to start work for another 2 months, but I just feel to guilty sitting around being useless.
Alright, I'm outta here! Have a fantastic week everyone and send me lettttters!
Lots of love,
Kate
Regardless, here I am. Okay, I lied. I am pretty zen right now. The second my fingers can clip clip across the keys I slip into this crazy trance where the world falls away and I could be anywhere. It's fantastic.
This was a busy week! Busy by village standards of course. On Tuesday I taught an English class. It was hilarious because I received the lesson upon walking in the door and actually had the concept all wrong. I was going to teach the meaning of which. Who really remembers that which ONLY modifies subjects and who modifies people? I sure didn't. The principal who was in the classroom with me seemed really worried. I somehow played it off like it was a lost in translation problem, but OOPS! I teach English again next Wednesday and will get the lesson on Monday.
On Thursday, my new Dutch friends came to Mhaji! I woke up very early like a good Tanzanian hostess and started cooking chai. I made food from basic ingredients! Woohoo. No more just add water and stir, I'm an mpishi (cook)-in-training now. They arrived, had chai, and the guys went off to do some interviews for a water filter their designing, and the girl, Marie, stayed with me. We went to a meeting in which I arranged quite a bit for next week, and then returned home to cook a meal for 6 people! Ahh, KAZI! (Work!) They headed back to town around 4, but are actually coming back today (the reason for me coming to town). We're going to have a little party at my house and make Mexican food and brownies.
Oh this is a little gem. On Wednesday, one of my girlfriends (12yrs) asked if I'd come on a walk with her in the evening to the next village. Ok, what else have I got to do right? Well, we leave around 5:30, walk a few km, and then I find out it's not a pleasant sunset stroll. No no. We approach a house and are given 2 massive watering cans. We proceed down a mountain, fill up our cans in a spring and start watering a field of avocado trees! KAZIIIII. We arrive back and it's pitch black.
Yesterday, I was invited to a wedding. I was told don't worry, it's not too far. It was about 5km walking, no biggie. I'm not THAT outta shape. We get there, and I immidiately become a spectacle. I knew that would happen, so no biggie. I sat on benches with all the parents and old people and was generally gawked at for a few hours. Well, just before it was my turn to dance/walk up to the wedding party and give them my gift (a big bar of soap wrapped in newspaper), a little girl I was with started falling off a bench. As I reached to grab here, her big sister noticed and reacted in such a way that HER ELBOW SLAMMED FULL SPEED INTO MY NOSE. Holy lord it hurt. I refused to cry but the tears were still pouring out. I started swallowing some blood but thankfully none dripped on the bride's pretty dress! No one actually saw what happened and I knew if I said anything they'd probably beat the girl that hit me. So, when people asked why I was sad I just pretended like I didn't understand Kiswa for a few minutes and the issue was dropped in the chaos of our dance/walk to the head table.
I wish I could elaborate more but I only have a few minutes left on the internet and lots of errands! I'm headed to the post office now with fingers crossed for fabulous letters.
Next week is crazy busy and next weekend there is a big party just outside of town with expats and Peace Corps volunteers. It will be nuts. In two weeks I begin teaching life skills to 5th and 6th graders! In Kiswahili. Ah! Technically we're not supposed to start work for another 2 months, but I just feel to guilty sitting around being useless.
Alright, I'm outta here! Have a fantastic week everyone and send me lettttters!
Lots of love,
Kate
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Back to the Vil!
I have been in town WAY too long. I actually feel extremely guilty and am eager to head back in a few hours. I ended up staying an extra day because the local expat 'country club' was having an annual bbq. How very colonialist, I know. It was really fun. A good mix of Peace Corps and international expats.
So today I head back to the vil for 2 weeks! It will be my longest stretch so far and I'm ready for it. I'm hoping to start my Village Situational Analysis survey this week. It is a compilation of 60 questions that I've translated into Kiswa. After getting a sample of about 50 households, I'll know the needs and issues of Mhaji and then set to work finding a cure for AIDS and establishing world peace...naturally. It's going to be quite the uphill battle, but I'm so excited. This optimism is coming before the actual work, so you may see a 180 in the coming months. Let's hope not!
I'm also expecting visitors! I met a group of Dutch students doing research on water filters. They're coming to my village on Thursday to talk to people and stay the night! I can't wait to be the hostess with the mostess. I'm thinking fudge brownies are in order!
Alright, I'm being a bad blogger and am completely distracted at the moment.
Hope everyone is happy and healthy. Eat a hamburger for me please. And maybe some chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. And if you're feeling generous, I would REALLY love some candy corn!
As of now, I'm headed off to my fave little rice and beans restaurant hidden away in an alley. Rice, beans, and veggies cost 60 cents. Today I'm splurging on chapati (TZ tortilla, but BETTER) and will roll it into a burrito. If I close my eyes really tight, it may just be the same as a spicy chicken enchillada. Ha, ya right.
XOXO
K
PS-Since I'm going to be out of internet contact for quite awhile, now is the perfect time to Skype me! Just to clear up any confusion, I can't Skype back with a computer. You'll have to call my cell via your computer. It's about 25 cents a minute, but if you search the internet you may be able to find phone cards cheaper. Everyone that's called seems to have a good experience with Skype and the connection is generally really good.
Best Times To Call:
Between 730-10am or 6-9:30pm Tanzania time
From the west coast we have a 10 hr time difference so you'll probably want to call in the morning or before you go to bed
East coast is an 8 hour difference unless I'm confused about daylight savings
When in doubt...just google it!
So today I head back to the vil for 2 weeks! It will be my longest stretch so far and I'm ready for it. I'm hoping to start my Village Situational Analysis survey this week. It is a compilation of 60 questions that I've translated into Kiswa. After getting a sample of about 50 households, I'll know the needs and issues of Mhaji and then set to work finding a cure for AIDS and establishing world peace...naturally. It's going to be quite the uphill battle, but I'm so excited. This optimism is coming before the actual work, so you may see a 180 in the coming months. Let's hope not!
I'm also expecting visitors! I met a group of Dutch students doing research on water filters. They're coming to my village on Thursday to talk to people and stay the night! I can't wait to be the hostess with the mostess. I'm thinking fudge brownies are in order!
Alright, I'm being a bad blogger and am completely distracted at the moment.
Hope everyone is happy and healthy. Eat a hamburger for me please. And maybe some chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. And if you're feeling generous, I would REALLY love some candy corn!
As of now, I'm headed off to my fave little rice and beans restaurant hidden away in an alley. Rice, beans, and veggies cost 60 cents. Today I'm splurging on chapati (TZ tortilla, but BETTER) and will roll it into a burrito. If I close my eyes really tight, it may just be the same as a spicy chicken enchillada. Ha, ya right.
XOXO
K
PS-Since I'm going to be out of internet contact for quite awhile, now is the perfect time to Skype me! Just to clear up any confusion, I can't Skype back with a computer. You'll have to call my cell via your computer. It's about 25 cents a minute, but if you search the internet you may be able to find phone cards cheaper. Everyone that's called seems to have a good experience with Skype and the connection is generally really good.
Best Times To Call:
Between 730-10am or 6-9:30pm Tanzania time
From the west coast we have a 10 hr time difference so you'll probably want to call in the morning or before you go to bed
East coast is an 8 hour difference unless I'm confused about daylight savings
When in doubt...just google it!
Thursday, October 2, 2008
The Day I Surfed Into Town...
Pictures:
1. My lil girlfriend Agape. She is the daughter of my best friend in the village. She is the daughter of the principal and teacher at the primary school. I am at their house prob 5/7 days of the week.
2-4. Primary school graduation!
5. My "library room". Notice I haven't painted BEHIND the bookshelf yet! It's so heavy, so it's going to take some initiative to finish. I painted the library this week, and you may not be able to tell but it's green. The bookshelf is the color of my living room.
Okay, let's get this started. There's no time like the present so I'll begin with a recap of my morning adventure. I woke up around 6:30 to screaming goats...or children (kids or kids, get it hahah). Regardless, it was loud. I completed my morning ritual (empty the 'chamber pot' :) ), drink chai, brush teeth, etc, and headed off to the bus stop. I'm in town a day early because two of my friends have decided Peace Corps is not the life for them and are returning to America. A bunch of my training class is coming in and we'll have a nice little send off tonight. I'm really disappointed but they will move on to new and exciting things and life will continue.
Here I am getting side tracked. As I walked to the bus standi (I can't count how many English words have an i thrown on the end and become Kiswahili!) I was actually almost charged by a full herd of bulls. The last near-charging incident was only one bull. Today, it was about 7 and just to prove I'm not over-exaggerating, a villager ran with me to hide! Shagala bagala (chaos)!!
To describe the bus portion of the morning, I have prepared a few jokes.
Q: How does one get to town on a bus without sitting or standing?
A: They surf!
It was standing room only on the cramped bus/van and I say standing room in the vaguest sense. The aisle was piled with massive sacks of maize. Having no option I hopped onto a big sack and held onto various things throughout the trip: a seat, a pole, a head. The whole while I was navigating the 'waves' of the road, bobbing and weaving so as not to split my skull open on the ceiling that was about 2 inches above me. Having never surfed before, I am now patting myself on the back for lasting over an hour with knees bended and arms balanced. I even managed to send a few texts in route (but I'm sure that won't surprise anyone).
2nd joke!
Q: What does a burlap sack say when you punch it?
A: Sqwuuuaackkkk. Didn't know it til the last leg of the trip but the bag next to me had a family of chickens in it. Hehe!
This week was both fast and slow as the African days can play so many tricks. The beginning of the week is pretty hazy now but I remember going to school, taking some walks, the usual. I had a great meeting with the PLWHA (People Living With HIV/AIDS) group on Sunday. They're so motivated to spread AIDS education and I can't wait to work with them!
The highlight of my week would have to be Wednesday: primary school graduation. The teachers and myself started cooking at 8am. Imagine massive cauldrons of rice, beans, veggies. I wish I had taken a picture, because I guarantee you can't imagine it. To create a big stove, we use three rocks and then burn a bunch of sticks in the middle. The pot goes on top of the rocks with the fire from the sticks below it.
Graduation was set to start at 12. We arrived sometime after 2 and waited a bit for the festivities to begin. After about 4 HOURS of sitting, tuning out, clapping, being stared at, I left with the teachers to set up for the meal. Something big happened. Usually, because I'm white, I'd be served at the same table as the government officials and other important guests. Not anymore! I was slinging food with the rest of the teachers. In fact, I even served the students! I was cranky and hungry after working and sitting all day in the sun.
However, I somehow got dragged into the 'disco room' with the students. I thought what the hell, let them at least think I'm funny. I started dancing. I could barely hear the music over the hooting and howls of laughter. It was so much fun! I went nuts. A little later, a few teachers and I slipped away into a pitch black classroom and drank beer!!! I felt so naughty. Do you think chaperones at high school dances are doing the same thing? When the principal came in I thought I'd get in trouble for some reason, but he didn't even mention the fact that all the staff were boozing on school grounds.
The night couldn't get any better...or so I thought. As I was headed home, my besti told me to come over for a bit. What happens next? Wait for it...We started dancing to gospel music videos with the whole family and house girl. It was probably my favorite moment in Africa so far. For at least an hour I was rocking out Tanzanian style and praisin the lord in Kiswa!
And on a final note: I'm FAT. And while you're thinking shut up, no you're not, get this: Last week I SPLIT MY PANTS!!!!! My house girl patched them for 10 cents, but I'm still mortified. You will not be seeing any body pictures until the situation is remedied.
Beyond the need for an African Weight Watchers program, life is good! I'm happy, healthy, and getting pumped to start work.
Lots of love,
Kate
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Whew, Another Week.
I was so worried I'd made it a full week without at least one incredulous story. Not so. This morning, as I saw the bus clang-clang-toot-tootin toward me, I realized ahh, they have no intention of stopping! They knew very well, I'm a white girl with a big backpack and from time-to-time, I need a little coddling. Clearly, I'm no longer a novelty. They made me run and jump on the bus as if we were actually in a hurry for something. The definition of hurry doesn't quite exist in Tanzania. Rather, we saunter, meander, putter even. What was this nonsense? I tried to close my eyes and pretend like I was gaily hopping onto a trolley car in San Francisco. I bumped my head immediately, and opened my eyes. The rest of the ride was uneventful. I had a boobie resting on the side of my arm as a baby was trying nurse, but I'd say that's fairly commonplace these days.
As for the rest of the week, things were same old same old. Took some walks, hung out with people, was a spectacle. The usual. Anyway, I'll write more tomorrow, but we're headed off to grab some rice and beans.
xoxo, til tomorrow
PS-These are pictures of my house! When I moved in it was completely empty. You can see the lovely summer blue paint showcased against the finely varnished couch and chairs. Mwaha. It's all a bit helter skelter, but it's really starting to grow on me! And yes, that is my toilet. Face the wall to pee, the door to poo. Easy as 1-2-3.
Kesho! (Tomorrow)
Saturday, September 20, 2008
You're Not Going to Believe this Week...
This has been quite the week of drama: illness, curses, stampedes, riots, and even ANTS IN MY PANTS. And something happened that surely I never expected possible. Something so terrible, so unexpected...I don't think I can ever eat torilla chips again. AHHHH
Let's start at the beginning. It was Monday, which means House-Girl-Day, which also means I Don't-Have-To-Use-Cold-Water-To-Make-Oatmeal-Day. Around 12:30 PM I start the arduous yet rewarding process of making chips and guac from scratch. Chips were about my only option as the only raw ingredient in my house besides pasta is flour. So proud of my accomplishment and completely engrossed in a National Geographic expose' on food crisis, I gobbled teh entire batch. BAD IDEA. I promised myself, woman, no more food until the sun goes down.
Naturally, 1 hour later I'm bored and realize I have (most) of the ingredients to make fudge. My jiko also had a few hot coals in it. I reasoned I'd share the treat and save the rest for later. Let's just say my green thumb for cooking all things chocolate and sugary ends after brownies. Maybe the chocolately porridge would harden inside, I wondered. Or maybe in my lap, or maybe, in my mouth? I never said I could actually execute self-control. Before things escalated out of control, I poured the cavity-a-bite mixture into the grass outside.
At this point, I was just moderately uncomfortable and took a walk to a friends house. Within the hour, however, my entire body was aching. Even my hair was tired. I went home to sit and attempt work. Eventually my best friend, the teacher and wife of the primary school principal came over. Upon learning I felt a lil ill, she insisted I go to her house and be watched. Tanzanians love to look at you when you're sick. It's ettiquette to sit and watch the sick person and help them in any way to recover. Anyway, I agreed like it was ever actually a choice in the first place. I couldn't touch dinner and by 9pm I'm dunzo.
I get back to my house and root around for a thermometer. For some really good reason (?) I was certain it was on the floor inside of my frisbee, next to the nails, matches, and nailpolish. I shine my flashlight and notice a few big ants. What could they have gotten into, I wondered? Upon further inspection, to my total horror, I saw hundreds of ants on my walls, floor, in all of my clothes, and invading my bed. And that's when I felt a stinging pain on my leg. Pulling up my pants I noticed one of the Siafu (the name for biting safari ants). The bastard bit me hard and wouldn't let go. I had a huge welt for a day. With that bit of adrenaline and an abundance of self-pity, I dragged myself back to the teacher's house and spent a sleepless night of moaning and groaning. Next to the rat in my bed, I concede that night as one of my darkest hours.
The next day, Tuesday, I went back to my house around 11am, still feeling horrible. We did a survey of the damage and found the Siafu had moved on leaving MANY dead in their wake. My friend sweeps them up and I go back to bed at her house til evening. I was so ready for my own bed and as I was about to hop in I realized, we hadn't checked out the bed that morning. A colony of Siafu had died in various layers of my blankets, pillow,and sheets. Back to the neighbors.
Wednesday: I was feeling much better. As I was outside cooking, I heard a loud crash. My only vanity allowed in Africa, a full length mirror, had crashed off the wall in a million tiny fragments. OY. I'll deal with that later, I decided. After cooking the beans, I sat in my chair and upon my 1st bite the entire steaming bowl poured in my lap. It soaked through all of my clthes and the cushion. It also drenched sauce all over my new book!
1st thought: Bugs are going to get into my book at night.
2nd thought: Shit, 7 years of bad luck-it's not a joke.
3rd thought: If I start eating the beans on my clothes and chair, there will be less clean up.
Thursday: I hadn't gotten out much this week so I took a walk to buy some eggs. On the way a bull escaped from his pack and started galloping toward me. Ahhh! crisis averted. A few minutes later a woman welcomed me into her fertizlier/alternation shop (I know, I know) and offered me an egg that was sitting on a shelf. The day concluded with no further incidents.
Friday 5:15am: I heard drums pounding wildly and someone shouting into a megaphone. What is going on? The siren on the megaphone started blaring and I'm suddenly wondering whether a riot has hit Mhaji. My 5:15am logic told me to put a bra on in case I was going to be dragged out of my house. I know, 5:15am Katie has a bit of a theatrical streak. I even went so far as to send a text to a neighbor in Kiswahili asking: Shouting-problem or not? Finally I made out some of the shouting and realizing they were annoucning a death/funeral. Once I heard the word for church, my anxiety subsided. This practice of drumming and shouting was also common in my other village but occurred at night instead. Now I know.
And now here I sit, mostly laughing at the series of unfortunate events. Dare I say, it can't get any worse? Nope, I won't say it. In a place as full of spontanaity and well, wildlife as Africa, tomorrow can bring almost anything. And while I can certainly do without ants in my pants, it all makes for a pretty memorable chapter in this strange, strange adventure.
Love to everyone. Tomorrow I'll will post a few picture of my house!
Katie
Let's start at the beginning. It was Monday, which means House-Girl-Day, which also means I Don't-Have-To-Use-Cold-Water-To-Make-Oatmeal-Day. Around 12:30 PM I start the arduous yet rewarding process of making chips and guac from scratch. Chips were about my only option as the only raw ingredient in my house besides pasta is flour. So proud of my accomplishment and completely engrossed in a National Geographic expose' on food crisis, I gobbled teh entire batch. BAD IDEA. I promised myself, woman, no more food until the sun goes down.
Naturally, 1 hour later I'm bored and realize I have (most) of the ingredients to make fudge. My jiko also had a few hot coals in it. I reasoned I'd share the treat and save the rest for later. Let's just say my green thumb for cooking all things chocolate and sugary ends after brownies. Maybe the chocolately porridge would harden inside, I wondered. Or maybe in my lap, or maybe, in my mouth? I never said I could actually execute self-control. Before things escalated out of control, I poured the cavity-a-bite mixture into the grass outside.
At this point, I was just moderately uncomfortable and took a walk to a friends house. Within the hour, however, my entire body was aching. Even my hair was tired. I went home to sit and attempt work. Eventually my best friend, the teacher and wife of the primary school principal came over. Upon learning I felt a lil ill, she insisted I go to her house and be watched. Tanzanians love to look at you when you're sick. It's ettiquette to sit and watch the sick person and help them in any way to recover. Anyway, I agreed like it was ever actually a choice in the first place. I couldn't touch dinner and by 9pm I'm dunzo.
I get back to my house and root around for a thermometer. For some really good reason (?) I was certain it was on the floor inside of my frisbee, next to the nails, matches, and nailpolish. I shine my flashlight and notice a few big ants. What could they have gotten into, I wondered? Upon further inspection, to my total horror, I saw hundreds of ants on my walls, floor, in all of my clothes, and invading my bed. And that's when I felt a stinging pain on my leg. Pulling up my pants I noticed one of the Siafu (the name for biting safari ants). The bastard bit me hard and wouldn't let go. I had a huge welt for a day. With that bit of adrenaline and an abundance of self-pity, I dragged myself back to the teacher's house and spent a sleepless night of moaning and groaning. Next to the rat in my bed, I concede that night as one of my darkest hours.
The next day, Tuesday, I went back to my house around 11am, still feeling horrible. We did a survey of the damage and found the Siafu had moved on leaving MANY dead in their wake. My friend sweeps them up and I go back to bed at her house til evening. I was so ready for my own bed and as I was about to hop in I realized, we hadn't checked out the bed that morning. A colony of Siafu had died in various layers of my blankets, pillow,and sheets. Back to the neighbors.
Wednesday: I was feeling much better. As I was outside cooking, I heard a loud crash. My only vanity allowed in Africa, a full length mirror, had crashed off the wall in a million tiny fragments. OY. I'll deal with that later, I decided. After cooking the beans, I sat in my chair and upon my 1st bite the entire steaming bowl poured in my lap. It soaked through all of my clthes and the cushion. It also drenched sauce all over my new book!
1st thought: Bugs are going to get into my book at night.
2nd thought: Shit, 7 years of bad luck-it's not a joke.
3rd thought: If I start eating the beans on my clothes and chair, there will be less clean up.
Thursday: I hadn't gotten out much this week so I took a walk to buy some eggs. On the way a bull escaped from his pack and started galloping toward me. Ahhh! crisis averted. A few minutes later a woman welcomed me into her fertizlier/alternation shop (I know, I know) and offered me an egg that was sitting on a shelf. The day concluded with no further incidents.
Friday 5:15am: I heard drums pounding wildly and someone shouting into a megaphone. What is going on? The siren on the megaphone started blaring and I'm suddenly wondering whether a riot has hit Mhaji. My 5:15am logic told me to put a bra on in case I was going to be dragged out of my house. I know, 5:15am Katie has a bit of a theatrical streak. I even went so far as to send a text to a neighbor in Kiswahili asking: Shouting-problem or not? Finally I made out some of the shouting and realizing they were annoucning a death/funeral. Once I heard the word for church, my anxiety subsided. This practice of drumming and shouting was also common in my other village but occurred at night instead. Now I know.
And now here I sit, mostly laughing at the series of unfortunate events. Dare I say, it can't get any worse? Nope, I won't say it. In a place as full of spontanaity and well, wildlife as Africa, tomorrow can bring almost anything. And while I can certainly do without ants in my pants, it all makes for a pretty memorable chapter in this strange, strange adventure.
Love to everyone. Tomorrow I'll will post a few picture of my house!
Katie
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Pictures!
Hi! I'm in town for just the day so I must be short and sweet. This week was good...VERY busy. I'm learning more Kiswahili everyday and by tonight just MIGHT have all of my furniture!
Instead of writing much, I'll explain the pictures!
1. The PCVs in my village and our families on swear in day in Kilosa.
2. My very own house, which I had almost finished painting in the picture.
3. My devil rent-a-cat. She was taken away and I'll get a kitten anyday now.
4. About half-way through training we planned a toga party!
5. Ashleigh and I modeling the shirts we made!
6. Dada Catherine and me being flashy.
7. Dressing like the Muslim women in TZ.
8. My adorable neighbor Hepe from training.
9. My village group on swear in day.
10. My homestay Mama, Mama Sumary. MISS HER!
11. Some cute kids in my training village.
I don't have many pictures of my new village as I don't want to take out my camera for awhile. It's not that I'm worried about theft, but kids are obsessed with cameras and I'd rather not deal with that yet.
Everything has been pretty good. Lots of meetings and random places to go. My eating habits are quickly deteriorating as I can't or am to lazy to light my jiko (stove). On the days my house girl comes and lights it for me, I make a lot of food and sorta hibernate on it. A new phase has been to cook a lot of pasta and eat the cold leftovers with sugar for breakfast the following morning. Another classy meal is instant oatmeal and COLD water. Finally, and yes, only a fat kid could dream this up: I occasssiionnnallly mix peanut butter, oats, sugar, cocoa powder, and water. Stir it and eat/drink. Oy vey, right?
Alright, gotta get outta here but want to say a million billion thank yous to everyone reading this and supporting me. It is the craziest feeling reading comments, getting phone calls, texts, and letters. It keeps me sane! Thank you thank you thank you.
Lots of love!
Monday, September 8, 2008
Oops...extended stay in town
Yesterday was classic Tanzania. I sauntered around town (one big street with a few side streets) bargaining for vegetables (3 avocados for 30 cents!) and buying enough snickers bars to keep me mentally stable for the next week. I get to my bus about 1 hr early to buy a ticket and secure a good seat.
Christie and I sit on a bunch at the standi and start chatting about this and that when I see my bus rolling down the street. Yes, actually rolling. There were three men running and pushing down the main road. Okay, weird. I wasn't worried it was leaving without me as I'm certain there are laws of physics dictating no African bus can ever leave on time. About 30 minutes later it was being rolled back into the lot. I boarded at 1, with a hopeful 1:15 departure. What I saw was ominous at best. The entire bottom of the front of the bus was missing and men were all over head to toe filthy using makeshift tools. No big deal, I'll sit next to the old, blind man and read my book. 2pm passes, 2:30, 3. No closer to take off. At this point, I'm hungry. Howveer, it's a rule that whatever you eat you must share on a bus. I barely trust where my own hands have been let alone those of my fellow bus patrons. I keep reading and trying not to be a type-A mzungu by keeping the distressed sighs to a minimum.
I finally get off the bus at 3:30 pm and say I'll come back tomorrow. There was something about riding in a bus that took 3 + hours to fix by untrained "mechanics" that reminded me an awful lot of a test-dummy car crash commercial. Christie's bus simply never appeared so we trekked back to the hotel for night two. The two of us, Brie, and our new PC friend Lou, had dinner and watched Lars and the Real Girl. Weird movie.
So here I am, it's 11:11am (make a wish) and I'm about to have second chai and meander to the bus standi. I am REALLY ready to get back to the vil and even feel guilty at having been gone 2 days. I missed a pretty important meeting of the PLWHA group (People Living with HIV/AIDS) yesterday and was supposed to go to the secondary school in the village over this morning to introduce myself. It's okay though because things like this happen all the time. Transportation mishaps are a daily, hourly part of life.
On a final note, I finished painting my living room! I may even get my couch today?!
Be back next Saturday.
XOXO
K
Christie and I sit on a bunch at the standi and start chatting about this and that when I see my bus rolling down the street. Yes, actually rolling. There were three men running and pushing down the main road. Okay, weird. I wasn't worried it was leaving without me as I'm certain there are laws of physics dictating no African bus can ever leave on time. About 30 minutes later it was being rolled back into the lot. I boarded at 1, with a hopeful 1:15 departure. What I saw was ominous at best. The entire bottom of the front of the bus was missing and men were all over head to toe filthy using makeshift tools. No big deal, I'll sit next to the old, blind man and read my book. 2pm passes, 2:30, 3. No closer to take off. At this point, I'm hungry. Howveer, it's a rule that whatever you eat you must share on a bus. I barely trust where my own hands have been let alone those of my fellow bus patrons. I keep reading and trying not to be a type-A mzungu by keeping the distressed sighs to a minimum.
I finally get off the bus at 3:30 pm and say I'll come back tomorrow. There was something about riding in a bus that took 3 + hours to fix by untrained "mechanics" that reminded me an awful lot of a test-dummy car crash commercial. Christie's bus simply never appeared so we trekked back to the hotel for night two. The two of us, Brie, and our new PC friend Lou, had dinner and watched Lars and the Real Girl. Weird movie.
So here I am, it's 11:11am (make a wish) and I'm about to have second chai and meander to the bus standi. I am REALLY ready to get back to the vil and even feel guilty at having been gone 2 days. I missed a pretty important meeting of the PLWHA group (People Living with HIV/AIDS) yesterday and was supposed to go to the secondary school in the village over this morning to introduce myself. It's okay though because things like this happen all the time. Transportation mishaps are a daily, hourly part of life.
On a final note, I finished painting my living room! I may even get my couch today?!
Be back next Saturday.
XOXO
K
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Consumerism, White Slavery, and Paper Machee for Dinner
Hi everyone! I'm in absolutely great spirits. It's 11am, and I've already had breakfast (cold spaghetti sprinkled with sugar...yep, I'm getting creative), taken a bus to town, stood in line for 1.5 hrs at the bank, and now sit happily in the tiki themed internet cafe in Njombe. Life is fab and I'm about to tell you why. But first, let's talk about that time I was almost sold into white slavery.
I hop-actually crawl, kick, and paw my way-onto our 30 seater van/bus which arrived...eventually in Mhaji. There were about 50 people already on board not to mention about 2 tons of maize, potatos, and various other staple perishables looming in my way. I climbed over four burlap sacks of food, 3 chickens, 2 nursing mothers, and a...partridge in a pear tree...okay, no pear tree, but you get the point. It was clearly standing room only at this point so I wedged myself diagonally between a little girl and a woman and held on tightly to the bars above. It's not like I could have really fallen if I tried, but the only place for my hands to go seemed to be up. As we putted down the dirt road I tried not to remember that if I looked down, I could actually see the road through the bus. OY.
About one hour into our ride, I actually get a phone call. (Thanks Alex and Roxanna!! Sorry I lost service.) Imagine this tall (compared to Tanzanians) white girl in a puffly blue North Face Jacket and backpack standing/surfing in the middle of the bus and talking loudly in English. I was a one-woman circus.
Anyway, when we were about 20 minutes from Njombe our bus pulls over to the side of the rode and the Conda (Conductor) started shouting at me, Njoo Dada, Njoo! (Come sister, come). Of course I obeyed. He shuffled me into a nearby car with four people already in the back seat and gave the driver some money. WHAT?! This is it, I have no money left on my phone, I willingly got into a strangers car, it's over. I'm going to be mopping the decks on a pirate ship somewhere for eternity. Ok-I didn't really think that, and truthfully was thrilled to zip into town in a car, but wouldn't it have been funny if I really did become a pirate wrench or something? Those would have been some truly golden blog entries! :)
As we drive into town I see a gaggle of Wazungu (white people). Of course I know them-we are few and far between. I hopped out chased them like a wild woman for about 6 blocks and then commenced together to the bank. After a substantial wait and mannnnny line cutters (I don't think there is a word in Swahili for LINE!) I made it got my much needed moola.
All of that in just one day, and I haven't even had chai yet. Now, let's recap.
This week was busy, busy. Monday and Tuesday I sat in on about 5 grades at the primary school. I observed Kiswahili lessons, math, science, and gardening. I also saw what happens when students are naughty. They get BEAT. Horrible to watch, but I couldn't seem to take my eyes away. The bad kids all line up and take turns getting beat once with a stick on their arm or leg. Then they run to class. Ahh, yuck.
Anyway, Wednesday I went to the village clinic for baby-weighing Wednesday. There were at least 100 kids there and I was told that it was a poor turn-out. It will be a really amazing venue to teach once I have a better grasp on the language and actually know what to teach about.
Thursday my AMAZING house girl started. She really whipped the place into shape. I taught her how to make hot cocoa and we had a lovely little pumzika (rest) together at chai time. Thursday afternoon, fresh off the domestic glow of a clean house, I decided to roll up my sleeves and bake...on a charcoal stove. Without a single unit of measure, not all of the ingredients, and an oven assembled from pots, rocks, and super hot coals, I must say that I made the most DELICIOUS, moist, finger-licking good brownies. They were a hit and everyone was so amazed I could actually do something for myself! I think eventually I'll have a cooking club where we can make fun food together. Home-Ec Africa style.
Every evening this week I went to my Mwalimu Mkuu's (Principal) house. His wife is also a teacher at the school and she seems to find everything I do or say hilarious. Fine by me. They have 3 kids that I'm obsessed with AND a generator to watch TV on at night. I think it may be the only TV in the entire village. Anyway, I bring over crayons and the kids play and I help cook dinner. I even cut up a chicken this week. I'm talking dismembered in its entirety. Aweeesome except for the fact my hands smelled for 2 days. They eat dinner around 9:30 and always force feed me at least a little, which brings me to paper machee food.
Have you ever made paper machee? It's quite easy...flour and water. Have you ever eaten it? No, of course not. Well would it surprise anyone at this point to know that the staple food of Tanzania and many African countries is Ugali. Guess what it's made of? Flour and water. I dare you to try it...I guarantee you won't mess up even if you think it tastes completely and horribly wrong. Bring water to a boil and slowly add in flour. Stir until it's a huge ball of paste/dough. Eat. Then hate yourself. It's actually not that bad. When you dip it with veggies you can barely taste the nontaste of it!
And on my final note...let's talk a little bit about the economy. It sucks, right? Things are pretty tough in TZ too, but on a totally different level. I'm a little embarrassed to have this discussion about finances but I think it will really help put some perspective to the different uses and needs of money here and at home.
Here's the embarrassing part...I'm wearing a pair of $200 jeans. I could justify by saying they were a birthday present, and that they actually were 40% less because I worked at the store they came from. But that's all irrelevant. The jeans barely fitting around my fat, ugali eating ass right now cost 200 big American dollars.
Now let's do a break down on some of my Tanzanian purchases.
A bed, mattress, couch, 2 big chairs, cushions for them all, a wardrobe, and book shelf: Just about 300,000 shillingi or $300. Hmm...
Now let's talk about labor. I pay my fabulous, very hard-working house girl 10,000 shilling/month for coming 3 times/wk. Over two years, that's $240.
Before anyone gets too nervous that I've started batting for the other team (that is the exploitive, wealthy, sweatshop investing club), I have to say, that it's all fair. Ajuaye (my housegirl) is thrilled at the pay and to be quite honest, I was cheated on a lot of the furniture because I'm white. Villagers here are farmers and they eat what they grow. It is completely possible to live in my village for under $20 a month. Excluding any cellphone use, trips to town, or luxuries beyond food or oil.
It has made me start thinking more about the $1/day poverty standard. Don't get me wrong, people here are living in poverty. It's just different when I am living in it with them. The kids wear rags. What were once adorable Pokemon sweatshirts or University of This or That jerseys, are now essentially scraps you'd use to clean your house with. But it's actually not a big deal! You would never hear of a child wanting a Hannah Montana shirt or Nike Ipod shoes. It's not even part of their thought process. You're not naked-good enough. I don't know if I'm being completely insensitive and this is coming out all wrong. It very well may be. I guess I'm trying to communicate that money has a different value here. As does time. Playing in the dirt/grass/cornfield is fun and active and free. 5 kids running around with sticks is every bit as glorifying to them as American kids playing with lightsabers. And guess what, sticks don't need batteries. If they break, you can just bend down and get another one.
Once I develop these thoughts with a little more clarity I'll come back to it. For my remaining 15 minutes of internet, I'm going to play on facebook!
Love everyone and hope you're all happy and healthy!
Katie
I hop-actually crawl, kick, and paw my way-onto our 30 seater van/bus which arrived...eventually in Mhaji. There were about 50 people already on board not to mention about 2 tons of maize, potatos, and various other staple perishables looming in my way. I climbed over four burlap sacks of food, 3 chickens, 2 nursing mothers, and a...partridge in a pear tree...okay, no pear tree, but you get the point. It was clearly standing room only at this point so I wedged myself diagonally between a little girl and a woman and held on tightly to the bars above. It's not like I could have really fallen if I tried, but the only place for my hands to go seemed to be up. As we putted down the dirt road I tried not to remember that if I looked down, I could actually see the road through the bus. OY.
About one hour into our ride, I actually get a phone call. (Thanks Alex and Roxanna!! Sorry I lost service.) Imagine this tall (compared to Tanzanians) white girl in a puffly blue North Face Jacket and backpack standing/surfing in the middle of the bus and talking loudly in English. I was a one-woman circus.
Anyway, when we were about 20 minutes from Njombe our bus pulls over to the side of the rode and the Conda (Conductor) started shouting at me, Njoo Dada, Njoo! (Come sister, come). Of course I obeyed. He shuffled me into a nearby car with four people already in the back seat and gave the driver some money. WHAT?! This is it, I have no money left on my phone, I willingly got into a strangers car, it's over. I'm going to be mopping the decks on a pirate ship somewhere for eternity. Ok-I didn't really think that, and truthfully was thrilled to zip into town in a car, but wouldn't it have been funny if I really did become a pirate wrench or something? Those would have been some truly golden blog entries! :)
As we drive into town I see a gaggle of Wazungu (white people). Of course I know them-we are few and far between. I hopped out chased them like a wild woman for about 6 blocks and then commenced together to the bank. After a substantial wait and mannnnny line cutters (I don't think there is a word in Swahili for LINE!) I made it got my much needed moola.
All of that in just one day, and I haven't even had chai yet. Now, let's recap.
This week was busy, busy. Monday and Tuesday I sat in on about 5 grades at the primary school. I observed Kiswahili lessons, math, science, and gardening. I also saw what happens when students are naughty. They get BEAT. Horrible to watch, but I couldn't seem to take my eyes away. The bad kids all line up and take turns getting beat once with a stick on their arm or leg. Then they run to class. Ahh, yuck.
Anyway, Wednesday I went to the village clinic for baby-weighing Wednesday. There were at least 100 kids there and I was told that it was a poor turn-out. It will be a really amazing venue to teach once I have a better grasp on the language and actually know what to teach about.
Thursday my AMAZING house girl started. She really whipped the place into shape. I taught her how to make hot cocoa and we had a lovely little pumzika (rest) together at chai time. Thursday afternoon, fresh off the domestic glow of a clean house, I decided to roll up my sleeves and bake...on a charcoal stove. Without a single unit of measure, not all of the ingredients, and an oven assembled from pots, rocks, and super hot coals, I must say that I made the most DELICIOUS, moist, finger-licking good brownies. They were a hit and everyone was so amazed I could actually do something for myself! I think eventually I'll have a cooking club where we can make fun food together. Home-Ec Africa style.
Every evening this week I went to my Mwalimu Mkuu's (Principal) house. His wife is also a teacher at the school and she seems to find everything I do or say hilarious. Fine by me. They have 3 kids that I'm obsessed with AND a generator to watch TV on at night. I think it may be the only TV in the entire village. Anyway, I bring over crayons and the kids play and I help cook dinner. I even cut up a chicken this week. I'm talking dismembered in its entirety. Aweeesome except for the fact my hands smelled for 2 days. They eat dinner around 9:30 and always force feed me at least a little, which brings me to paper machee food.
Have you ever made paper machee? It's quite easy...flour and water. Have you ever eaten it? No, of course not. Well would it surprise anyone at this point to know that the staple food of Tanzania and many African countries is Ugali. Guess what it's made of? Flour and water. I dare you to try it...I guarantee you won't mess up even if you think it tastes completely and horribly wrong. Bring water to a boil and slowly add in flour. Stir until it's a huge ball of paste/dough. Eat. Then hate yourself. It's actually not that bad. When you dip it with veggies you can barely taste the nontaste of it!
And on my final note...let's talk a little bit about the economy. It sucks, right? Things are pretty tough in TZ too, but on a totally different level. I'm a little embarrassed to have this discussion about finances but I think it will really help put some perspective to the different uses and needs of money here and at home.
Here's the embarrassing part...I'm wearing a pair of $200 jeans. I could justify by saying they were a birthday present, and that they actually were 40% less because I worked at the store they came from. But that's all irrelevant. The jeans barely fitting around my fat, ugali eating ass right now cost 200 big American dollars.
Now let's do a break down on some of my Tanzanian purchases.
A bed, mattress, couch, 2 big chairs, cushions for them all, a wardrobe, and book shelf: Just about 300,000 shillingi or $300. Hmm...
Now let's talk about labor. I pay my fabulous, very hard-working house girl 10,000 shilling/month for coming 3 times/wk. Over two years, that's $240.
Before anyone gets too nervous that I've started batting for the other team (that is the exploitive, wealthy, sweatshop investing club), I have to say, that it's all fair. Ajuaye (my housegirl) is thrilled at the pay and to be quite honest, I was cheated on a lot of the furniture because I'm white. Villagers here are farmers and they eat what they grow. It is completely possible to live in my village for under $20 a month. Excluding any cellphone use, trips to town, or luxuries beyond food or oil.
It has made me start thinking more about the $1/day poverty standard. Don't get me wrong, people here are living in poverty. It's just different when I am living in it with them. The kids wear rags. What were once adorable Pokemon sweatshirts or University of This or That jerseys, are now essentially scraps you'd use to clean your house with. But it's actually not a big deal! You would never hear of a child wanting a Hannah Montana shirt or Nike Ipod shoes. It's not even part of their thought process. You're not naked-good enough. I don't know if I'm being completely insensitive and this is coming out all wrong. It very well may be. I guess I'm trying to communicate that money has a different value here. As does time. Playing in the dirt/grass/cornfield is fun and active and free. 5 kids running around with sticks is every bit as glorifying to them as American kids playing with lightsabers. And guess what, sticks don't need batteries. If they break, you can just bend down and get another one.
Once I develop these thoughts with a little more clarity I'll come back to it. For my remaining 15 minutes of internet, I'm going to play on facebook!
Love everyone and hope you're all happy and healthy!
Katie
Thursday, August 28, 2008
One is the Lonliest Number...
Ok...here goes some attempt at framing the last, and without question, the hardest week of my entire life.
I was hoping by the time I got to a computer this story would be funny, but I'm not exactly laughing yet. I'm getting ahead of myself though, let's start at the beginning.
Our swearing-in ceremony was fantastic, if not a little yawn-worthy. I was actually given the privilege of writing a speech with another girl in my class and giving it in Swahili at the ceremony. It was taped so I'll put it on my blog when I can. :) Oh and in case you had any doubt, I looked absolutely fabulous in my yellow,orange,brown checkerprint skirt, shirt, and headwrap. Not as fab as Mama though, naturally. That woman just rocks it night and day. She even bought some new hair for the occassion. (Side note: Sometimes I don't recognize women that I actually have met several times because they're always changing their wigs!!)
Fast forward to that night...VICTORY PARTY. We made it. There was dancing, drinking, and all-around merrymaking. I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't dancing on the bed of a pickup truck at one point in the evening. End scene.
Next morning, at 6am we set off in a little coasta (van/bus type thing). There were 10 PCVs and about 14,000 suitcases. Dozing, reststops, and anticipation, yada yada. We finally arrive in Njombe town at a little after 8pm. Projected ETA? 4PM. The next morning we frantically raced around the market buying buckets, pasta (about all I eat), and random other must-have items.
I arrived at my lovely village, Mhaji (Moo-hah-ji) at around 4 and put all of my bags in my completely empty house. I'm talking zip, zero, nada empty. Oh unless we're counting spiders. Then I have the most furnished house in the world. I threw my foam mattress on the floor in one room and spread a sheet on the floor of my 'living room.' No prob whatever, moving on.
Day 2 was exhausting and busy and full of mind bogglingly fast Kiswahili speakers. Fine okay, good. Go to bed. Finally, time to escape and store up energy to try it all again the next day. Around 1:30am. I awake to a strange noise. I ignore it but it doesn't stop and it's so close to me. I fumble for my glasses and flashlight.
OH MY GOD. Really. OH MY GODDDD. A rat was crawling around my head. The F word, completely applicable here will be used freely. THERE WAS A FUCKING RAT CRAWLING AT MY HEAD. AHHHH
I went through every step of grief. Denial (lasted 2.2 seconds), Anger (about 12 seconds), Pain/Fear/Misery (7 hours). Let's just say the floodgates finally opened. I cried the type of cry where you are choking, screaming, cursing your very existence, why me, why me? There was so much snot pouring out of my nose that I started blowing it on the sleeve, neck, bottom of my shirt. I was a picture perfect mess. Major shout out to my family, and PCV Jess who calmed me down throughout the night. I sat on the cement floor with no blankets (not love or money would take me back in that bedroom). It was a pity party to end all pity parties. The next day...I got a cat. Well, more truthfully, I rented one til my lil kitten is strong enough!
Shoot, I only have 10 minutes left. Life has been progressing slowly since The Night of the Rat. I have been visiting around the village, trying (very poorly) to cook, bathing (verrrry occasionally) and even gardening a bit! As for the whole vanity thing...I'd say it's gone out the window. I was kindly told today I'm wearing myshirt inside out...the same shirt I was also wearing yesterday. I think I may be starting to embrace this smelly new identity with a bit too much fervor.
OK SHOOT. The rest of my blog was deleted and this was all I could salvage. Stupid internet cafe. I literally have minutes to finish so I will send you this plea: CALL ME.
And...write me
Kate Glantz, Peace Corps Volunteer
P.O. Box 749
Njombe
Iringa Region
Tanzania
Don't worry too much about me though. I love and believe so much in the reason that I'm here that I'm not ready to let some pesky rodents kick me out just yet.
Alright I am off. On a final note this weekend I am embarking on a home improvement project. I'm going to paint the inside of the house. Mwaha, what a fabulous little disaster that will be.
Finallllly...in this tragic comedy of a life I am living, much of the humor comes from my wonderful family and friends. I relish in your comments, letters, and texts. I could use some more calls tho! You are all amazing, and I couldn't do this without knowing somewhere you're all out there.
Love you. Miss you. And wear your heels loud and proud girlies.
Katie
I was hoping by the time I got to a computer this story would be funny, but I'm not exactly laughing yet. I'm getting ahead of myself though, let's start at the beginning.
Our swearing-in ceremony was fantastic, if not a little yawn-worthy. I was actually given the privilege of writing a speech with another girl in my class and giving it in Swahili at the ceremony. It was taped so I'll put it on my blog when I can. :) Oh and in case you had any doubt, I looked absolutely fabulous in my yellow,orange,brown checkerprint skirt, shirt, and headwrap. Not as fab as Mama though, naturally. That woman just rocks it night and day. She even bought some new hair for the occassion. (Side note: Sometimes I don't recognize women that I actually have met several times because they're always changing their wigs!!)
Fast forward to that night...VICTORY PARTY. We made it. There was dancing, drinking, and all-around merrymaking. I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't dancing on the bed of a pickup truck at one point in the evening. End scene.
Next morning, at 6am we set off in a little coasta (van/bus type thing). There were 10 PCVs and about 14,000 suitcases. Dozing, reststops, and anticipation, yada yada. We finally arrive in Njombe town at a little after 8pm. Projected ETA? 4PM. The next morning we frantically raced around the market buying buckets, pasta (about all I eat), and random other must-have items.
I arrived at my lovely village, Mhaji (Moo-hah-ji) at around 4 and put all of my bags in my completely empty house. I'm talking zip, zero, nada empty. Oh unless we're counting spiders. Then I have the most furnished house in the world. I threw my foam mattress on the floor in one room and spread a sheet on the floor of my 'living room.' No prob whatever, moving on.
Day 2 was exhausting and busy and full of mind bogglingly fast Kiswahili speakers. Fine okay, good. Go to bed. Finally, time to escape and store up energy to try it all again the next day. Around 1:30am. I awake to a strange noise. I ignore it but it doesn't stop and it's so close to me. I fumble for my glasses and flashlight.
OH MY GOD. Really. OH MY GODDDD. A rat was crawling around my head. The F word, completely applicable here will be used freely. THERE WAS A FUCKING RAT CRAWLING AT MY HEAD. AHHHH
I went through every step of grief. Denial (lasted 2.2 seconds), Anger (about 12 seconds), Pain/Fear/Misery (7 hours). Let's just say the floodgates finally opened. I cried the type of cry where you are choking, screaming, cursing your very existence, why me, why me? There was so much snot pouring out of my nose that I started blowing it on the sleeve, neck, bottom of my shirt. I was a picture perfect mess. Major shout out to my family, and PCV Jess who calmed me down throughout the night. I sat on the cement floor with no blankets (not love or money would take me back in that bedroom). It was a pity party to end all pity parties. The next day...I got a cat. Well, more truthfully, I rented one til my lil kitten is strong enough!
Shoot, I only have 10 minutes left. Life has been progressing slowly since The Night of the Rat. I have been visiting around the village, trying (very poorly) to cook, bathing (verrrry occasionally) and even gardening a bit! As for the whole vanity thing...I'd say it's gone out the window. I was kindly told today I'm wearing myshirt inside out...the same shirt I was also wearing yesterday. I think I may be starting to embrace this smelly new identity with a bit too much fervor.
OK SHOOT. The rest of my blog was deleted and this was all I could salvage. Stupid internet cafe. I literally have minutes to finish so I will send you this plea: CALL ME.
And...write me
Kate Glantz, Peace Corps Volunteer
P.O. Box 749
Njombe
Iringa Region
Tanzania
Don't worry too much about me though. I love and believe so much in the reason that I'm here that I'm not ready to let some pesky rodents kick me out just yet.
Alright I am off. On a final note this weekend I am embarking on a home improvement project. I'm going to paint the inside of the house. Mwaha, what a fabulous little disaster that will be.
Finallllly...in this tragic comedy of a life I am living, much of the humor comes from my wonderful family and friends. I relish in your comments, letters, and texts. I could use some more calls tho! You are all amazing, and I couldn't do this without knowing somewhere you're all out there.
Love you. Miss you. And wear your heels loud and proud girlies.
Katie
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Back to the Village
It's now Thursday, around noon. I have absolutely nothing new or inspiring to contribute. I did, however, manage to sneak away from 'school' and hitch a ride to the internet cafe. And by hitch a ride, I mean I politely filled out a vehicle request form and asked for permission. Most of the group headed to the baa (bar), but what does any responsible sorority girl do after spring break? Detox. This week is for family, reflection, and frantically figuring out how to light a portable stove without singing off my eyebrows.
I'm getting sworn in as an official Peace Corps Volunteer next Wednesday. My mama and I will be in matching African garb and trust me, we will be hot. While we're discussing wardrobes, I might as well give you a brief anatomy lesson. The wowowo (big bootay) is prized here and regarded as far superior to the American dream of a great rack. Therefore, I am fairly certain that my skirt will be very, VERY tight. I'm talking waddle-to-move tight. Don't worry too much about the visual, I will take a photo shoot from all angles. If some of you haven't received the memo yet, I don't actually have an ass. Perhaps this is why I've only received 3 marriage proposals?
On another amusing note...while on shadow in Iringa, quite a few male 'well-wishers' stopped in to linger/solicit/oogle. One man, after watching me 'cook' in silence for about 30 minutes finally contributed in perfect English, "Clearly, you have had no experience in this area." I responded, "You are absolutely right, would you like to give it a try?" Silence. This whole cooking business may prove to be a tough learning curve. Still, with a village full of potentially doting mamas, I think I'm going to be alright.
Not too much else to add. The trip from Dar back to Chanzuru was uneventful. I have been pouring over my People magazines and even had some quality time reading about Angelina and Brad with my family by lantern light post din. I will REALLY, REALLY miss them.
This will be my last post for at least a week. I move out of my homestay Monday and leave for Njombe on Wednesday. We'll spend a night in town setting up a PO Box and buying some necessities. Then it's TIME! Wooohooo. I'm thinking about getting a pet. Pehaps a cat to save me from nasty rodents. I know my family is rolling their eyes right now. Not only do I hate cats, I haven't the slightest idea of how to care for one. Nor am I all too thrilled about having a poop box inside my house. The whole idea of pet maintence, flea removal, and potty training is quite underwhelming, but at the end of the day, I think having another pulse in the house would be great for morale. Just stay posted...it may be a phase.
Finally, thanks everyone for your comments, letters, and texts. They make me beam with happiness. I definitely-no questions asked-have THE GREATEST, MOST SUPPORTIVE, friends and family in the entire world. In the next month please make a concerted effort to eat at Mongollian BBQ, wear really tall stilettos, and oh, I don't know, buy a really jazzy frivolous accessory. I hear we're in some sort of recession, so think of it as contributing to the economy on my behalf. Really, when you look at it that way, you're just being patriotic.
Love to everyone!
Katie
I'm getting sworn in as an official Peace Corps Volunteer next Wednesday. My mama and I will be in matching African garb and trust me, we will be hot. While we're discussing wardrobes, I might as well give you a brief anatomy lesson. The wowowo (big bootay) is prized here and regarded as far superior to the American dream of a great rack. Therefore, I am fairly certain that my skirt will be very, VERY tight. I'm talking waddle-to-move tight. Don't worry too much about the visual, I will take a photo shoot from all angles. If some of you haven't received the memo yet, I don't actually have an ass. Perhaps this is why I've only received 3 marriage proposals?
On another amusing note...while on shadow in Iringa, quite a few male 'well-wishers' stopped in to linger/solicit/oogle. One man, after watching me 'cook' in silence for about 30 minutes finally contributed in perfect English, "Clearly, you have had no experience in this area." I responded, "You are absolutely right, would you like to give it a try?" Silence. This whole cooking business may prove to be a tough learning curve. Still, with a village full of potentially doting mamas, I think I'm going to be alright.
Not too much else to add. The trip from Dar back to Chanzuru was uneventful. I have been pouring over my People magazines and even had some quality time reading about Angelina and Brad with my family by lantern light post din. I will REALLY, REALLY miss them.
This will be my last post for at least a week. I move out of my homestay Monday and leave for Njombe on Wednesday. We'll spend a night in town setting up a PO Box and buying some necessities. Then it's TIME! Wooohooo. I'm thinking about getting a pet. Pehaps a cat to save me from nasty rodents. I know my family is rolling their eyes right now. Not only do I hate cats, I haven't the slightest idea of how to care for one. Nor am I all too thrilled about having a poop box inside my house. The whole idea of pet maintence, flea removal, and potty training is quite underwhelming, but at the end of the day, I think having another pulse in the house would be great for morale. Just stay posted...it may be a phase.
Finally, thanks everyone for your comments, letters, and texts. They make me beam with happiness. I definitely-no questions asked-have THE GREATEST, MOST SUPPORTIVE, friends and family in the entire world. In the next month please make a concerted effort to eat at Mongollian BBQ, wear really tall stilettos, and oh, I don't know, buy a really jazzy frivolous accessory. I hear we're in some sort of recession, so think of it as contributing to the economy on my behalf. Really, when you look at it that way, you're just being patriotic.
Love to everyone!
Katie
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Big News!
I'm currently sitting in the Peace Corps office in Dar es Salaam. I wrote my first African post in this very chair and fast forward 2 months, my life has turned topsy turvy. I have lived with my amazing host family for 2 months, acquired a truly functional grasp of Kiswahili, made incredible friends, and am proving to myself everyday that yes, I can do this.
The conclusion of shadow week was amazing. I had been living out of my current reality into something much closer to my former environement: Spring Break. And let me just say, Spring Break Iringa truly lived up to the hype. The actual town of Iringa is fantastic. I did some shopping, some eating (okay, a lot of eating...enchiladas woopwoop), and got my bearings in a region that wait for it, wait for it...
IRINGA IS MY FUTURE HOME!!!!!!!!!
I was placed this morning in a ceremony at the PC Office. I will be living in a small village north of Njombe town. My house will be on the grounds of a primary school and I should have a few teachers as neighbors. The entire village has no electricity so my solar charger is about to get a lil wear and tear. I'm replacing a volunteer that has served 3 years! Big shoes to fill, but I'm up for it. Supposedly she wasn't aware her site was being replaced and sold/gave away everything in her house!
Let's take a moment and picture me furniture shopping in a rural village. Okay. Can't picture it? No, me either! I'm ready to nest tho and let's just hope I have my mom's green thumb for decorating. I'm about one hour from Njombe so I will be able to post pictures of my future residence without too much trouble.
What more scoop can I give you about Njombe? It's COLD there. I'm talking long underwear cold. It's also beautiful, infused with a lot of tribal language, and well, I just know it's going to be amazing. Somehow every star alligned and my best girlfriends are all in the same region. That means less than one day of travel to visit each other. I'm already planning the next theme party. I'm beyond ecstatic about the entire situation and I can't wait to give you the details as they unfold.
For now, the line for internet is out the door and people are getting feisty.
Love you all and hopefully I'll post again in the next few weeks.
XOXO
Kate
The conclusion of shadow week was amazing. I had been living out of my current reality into something much closer to my former environement: Spring Break. And let me just say, Spring Break Iringa truly lived up to the hype. The actual town of Iringa is fantastic. I did some shopping, some eating (okay, a lot of eating...enchiladas woopwoop), and got my bearings in a region that wait for it, wait for it...
IRINGA IS MY FUTURE HOME!!!!!!!!!
I was placed this morning in a ceremony at the PC Office. I will be living in a small village north of Njombe town. My house will be on the grounds of a primary school and I should have a few teachers as neighbors. The entire village has no electricity so my solar charger is about to get a lil wear and tear. I'm replacing a volunteer that has served 3 years! Big shoes to fill, but I'm up for it. Supposedly she wasn't aware her site was being replaced and sold/gave away everything in her house!
Let's take a moment and picture me furniture shopping in a rural village. Okay. Can't picture it? No, me either! I'm ready to nest tho and let's just hope I have my mom's green thumb for decorating. I'm about one hour from Njombe so I will be able to post pictures of my future residence without too much trouble.
What more scoop can I give you about Njombe? It's COLD there. I'm talking long underwear cold. It's also beautiful, infused with a lot of tribal language, and well, I just know it's going to be amazing. Somehow every star alligned and my best girlfriends are all in the same region. That means less than one day of travel to visit each other. I'm already planning the next theme party. I'm beyond ecstatic about the entire situation and I can't wait to give you the details as they unfold.
For now, the line for internet is out the door and people are getting feisty.
Love you all and hopefully I'll post again in the next few weeks.
XOXO
Kate
Monday, August 4, 2008
Im ALIVE
Well hello again. Did you think you had all (and by all, I mean my parents, sisters, and 3-4 friends that probably read this blog) been abandoned? I have been living the high life. Flat screen TVs in my bedroom, wireless internet across the village. I've just been playing coy so you'll miss me more.
LIES. I haven't seen a computer in 7 weeks! I was utterly unprepared for this glorious window of time to use Internet and sadly have no formal entry prepared.
What have the last 6 weeks been like? OH, you know...right you don't. I still go to bed in my wildlif e preserve, I mean bedroom, at about 830 pm. Everyday is intensive Kiswahili training, practical (?) health sessions, etc. Lots of information smacking me in the face.
I'm sitting now at an internet cafe in Mafinga town, Iringa region. Google it. I'm with one of my great gal pals and we're shadowing a current volunteer. After living in a village that doesn't even sell toilet paper since mid-June, suffice it to say homegirl is ready to splurge. Yesterday, in Morogoro they dropped our busload of wazungu (white people) off at this small Westernized grocery store. Oh. My. God. It was like the apocolapse was 10 minutes away, it was like a drunk person waiting 2 hrs for their pizza delivry at 2am, it was like, OH WAIT. it was like 50 Americans who hadn't seen cheese or ice cream or DORITOS in 2 months. I watched a 90 pound girl ravaging a full block of cheese. Full tubs of ice cream were being bought and NOT shared. Myself, I wetted my appetite with a chocolate dipped ice cream cone. Tossing the wrapper aside (in Africa, the world is your trash can), I licked my fingers (can't waste a morsel), and moved onto the Nacho Cheesier Doritos. 5 minutes later I shamefully ate a Snickrs bar almost biting my finger off in the process. For that 29 minute sugar high, my life made sense. Bliss, ecstacy, religion. I had it all.
Sadly, I lost some of my fervor for processed foods as a likeness to a higher power while I hunched over the choo saying wiping goodbye to all 12,000 shillingi ($12 and 3 days stipend). It was worth every.damn.penny.
Dairy goods? Everyone go out and eat somthing severely lactose today. Do it for me.
So here I sit, about 8 hours away from my fabulous lil village in Iringa, the southern highlands of TZ. I will be here for 1 week hanging out, seeing what it's like to actually be a PCV, and eating my body's weight in cheese.
On Saturday I head to Dar es Salaam where we will get Tanzanian bank accounts and our VILLAGE PLACEMENTS!!! Aug 12 I will know where I'll be living for the next 2 years.
So what else is the scoop? I've been so many fantastic friends. I am absolutely obsessed with my host family. My mama and I text eachother sometimes when I'm at school or away for the weekend. My sister is SO cool and has decided to say "OH MY GOSH" at some point in every conversation.
I hope to post pictures one day (mungu akipenda-said a lot here and means, if god wills it!)
OHHH GREAT NEWS. We ate our fucking rooster. In my last entry I believe I wrote somthing to the like of being woken up at 4 cuz it sounds like the rooster is at my window. Actually, it lived in the house, like the other 20 chickens. They just sleep in the house. YEP. Anyway, on JULY 27, we ate the rooster. I've been sleeping like a princess ever since!
Ok, my time is running out quickly, so sorry for you I have not had time to edit or even read this entry.
In conclusion, thank you everyon for your support. Some people get annoyed with me because I get so much mail. I read every letter over and over, and they have all made me SO happy. Seriously, I'm so proud of all of you, starting your lives and showing up to real people jobs.
OH FINAL thing....EVRYONE get skype and put a lil money on it and CALL ME!!!! it's like 25 cents a minute. just do it. and then drunk dial me.
KISSES to everyone.
I love my family and friends more than anything. I am so grateful for every one of you.
It's now5pm and it's time to present our shadow guy with a bottle of wine and Doritos. Lets get Sring Break Iringa rollin in high style!!
XOXO
LIES. I haven't seen a computer in 7 weeks! I was utterly unprepared for this glorious window of time to use Internet and sadly have no formal entry prepared.
What have the last 6 weeks been like? OH, you know...right you don't. I still go to bed in my wildlif e preserve, I mean bedroom, at about 830 pm. Everyday is intensive Kiswahili training, practical (?) health sessions, etc. Lots of information smacking me in the face.
I'm sitting now at an internet cafe in Mafinga town, Iringa region. Google it. I'm with one of my great gal pals and we're shadowing a current volunteer. After living in a village that doesn't even sell toilet paper since mid-June, suffice it to say homegirl is ready to splurge. Yesterday, in Morogoro they dropped our busload of wazungu (white people) off at this small Westernized grocery store. Oh. My. God. It was like the apocolapse was 10 minutes away, it was like a drunk person waiting 2 hrs for their pizza delivry at 2am, it was like, OH WAIT. it was like 50 Americans who hadn't seen cheese or ice cream or DORITOS in 2 months. I watched a 90 pound girl ravaging a full block of cheese. Full tubs of ice cream were being bought and NOT shared. Myself, I wetted my appetite with a chocolate dipped ice cream cone. Tossing the wrapper aside (in Africa, the world is your trash can), I licked my fingers (can't waste a morsel), and moved onto the Nacho Cheesier Doritos. 5 minutes later I shamefully ate a Snickrs bar almost biting my finger off in the process. For that 29 minute sugar high, my life made sense. Bliss, ecstacy, religion. I had it all.
Sadly, I lost some of my fervor for processed foods as a likeness to a higher power while I hunched over the choo saying wiping goodbye to all 12,000 shillingi ($12 and 3 days stipend). It was worth every.damn.penny.
Dairy goods? Everyone go out and eat somthing severely lactose today. Do it for me.
So here I sit, about 8 hours away from my fabulous lil village in Iringa, the southern highlands of TZ. I will be here for 1 week hanging out, seeing what it's like to actually be a PCV, and eating my body's weight in cheese.
On Saturday I head to Dar es Salaam where we will get Tanzanian bank accounts and our VILLAGE PLACEMENTS!!! Aug 12 I will know where I'll be living for the next 2 years.
So what else is the scoop? I've been so many fantastic friends. I am absolutely obsessed with my host family. My mama and I text eachother sometimes when I'm at school or away for the weekend. My sister is SO cool and has decided to say "OH MY GOSH" at some point in every conversation.
I hope to post pictures one day (mungu akipenda-said a lot here and means, if god wills it!)
OHHH GREAT NEWS. We ate our fucking rooster. In my last entry I believe I wrote somthing to the like of being woken up at 4 cuz it sounds like the rooster is at my window. Actually, it lived in the house, like the other 20 chickens. They just sleep in the house. YEP. Anyway, on JULY 27, we ate the rooster. I've been sleeping like a princess ever since!
Ok, my time is running out quickly, so sorry for you I have not had time to edit or even read this entry.
In conclusion, thank you everyon for your support. Some people get annoyed with me because I get so much mail. I read every letter over and over, and they have all made me SO happy. Seriously, I'm so proud of all of you, starting your lives and showing up to real people jobs.
OH FINAL thing....EVRYONE get skype and put a lil money on it and CALL ME!!!! it's like 25 cents a minute. just do it. and then drunk dial me.
KISSES to everyone.
I love my family and friends more than anything. I am so grateful for every one of you.
It's now5pm and it's time to present our shadow guy with a bottle of wine and Doritos. Lets get Sring Break Iringa rollin in high style!!
XOXO
Friday, June 27, 2008
You Can Take the Girl Out of the City But..
How do I even begin? Everyday here is a new chapter in an adventure novel with no predictable plot. Still, I have managed to fall into a routine of the strangest accord. For in this new life kept sane only by some semblance of control, my 6:30am bucket bath and 8:30 pm bedtime are essentially all I can control.
My life is: foreign, basic, confusing, inefficient, full of learning, busy, and intense.
I live in a tiny village about 6 hours into the interior of Tanzania. I have no electricity or running water. I eat dinner by lantern and my toilet is a cement hole in the yard. I live in the bush.
A typical day:
4am-1st rooster crows
401am-dogs howling in response
402am-put in earplugs and doze in and out of sleep until
630am-wake up, bathe in a bucket with a pitcher (think lemonade) depending how cold it is, my pants may or may not come off
700am-get dressed, eat breakfast, wash my dishes outside, go to school
8am-5pm-SCHOOL, kiswahili all day, everyday
5:15-7pm-sit outside with mama and sister (dada) and help cook, do hw, and practice the langauge
7:15-730-din! For a meal that takes several hours to prepare we eat, quickly, quietly, and loudly :)
As for foods, WHOA leave it to me to go to Africa and get fat! I eat everything?! I think a parade is in order. I am now a huge fan of spinach, beans, mangos, papaya, cabbage, etc. ANYTHING. GO ME GO ME GO ME. I may be fat, but during a time when "mental health" is the most important, I'm happy.
This is my first time at a computer since Washington DC. I'm frantically typing away before being whisked back into the bush.
Everyday is a new ride of 10 highs and 10 lows. My reality now consists of pooping in a hole, wearing skirts everyday, and going to bed when the light is gone. Did I mention, I live in a roach motel? I 'endure' about 10 roaches a day. Usually I yell, DADA!!! She'll laugh and kill them, but the novelty of the scaredy cat American is getting old, fast.
I'm making a lot of great friends, and we meet as a big group once a week. I LIVE FOR THAT DAY. It feels America again.
I have so much more to say, but I can't rely on the internet much longer.
BUT GUESS WHAT!?!! I GOT A PHONE! CALL Me Or TEXT ME Right this instant!!!!!
from the states dial 255 787 788 683. The last 9 digits is my #. I think it's just 255 + the number, but google calling/texting to Tanzania to find out.
Lots of love,. Shout out to Huffy: my only letter so far. You made my week. You go girl. I read your letter maybe 10 times.
Lots of love and happiness to everyone.
Your pal,
Katie
My life is: foreign, basic, confusing, inefficient, full of learning, busy, and intense.
I live in a tiny village about 6 hours into the interior of Tanzania. I have no electricity or running water. I eat dinner by lantern and my toilet is a cement hole in the yard. I live in the bush.
A typical day:
4am-1st rooster crows
401am-dogs howling in response
402am-put in earplugs and doze in and out of sleep until
630am-wake up, bathe in a bucket with a pitcher (think lemonade) depending how cold it is, my pants may or may not come off
700am-get dressed, eat breakfast, wash my dishes outside, go to school
8am-5pm-SCHOOL, kiswahili all day, everyday
5:15-7pm-sit outside with mama and sister (dada) and help cook, do hw, and practice the langauge
7:15-730-din! For a meal that takes several hours to prepare we eat, quickly, quietly, and loudly :)
As for foods, WHOA leave it to me to go to Africa and get fat! I eat everything?! I think a parade is in order. I am now a huge fan of spinach, beans, mangos, papaya, cabbage, etc. ANYTHING. GO ME GO ME GO ME. I may be fat, but during a time when "mental health" is the most important, I'm happy.
This is my first time at a computer since Washington DC. I'm frantically typing away before being whisked back into the bush.
Everyday is a new ride of 10 highs and 10 lows. My reality now consists of pooping in a hole, wearing skirts everyday, and going to bed when the light is gone. Did I mention, I live in a roach motel? I 'endure' about 10 roaches a day. Usually I yell, DADA!!! She'll laugh and kill them, but the novelty of the scaredy cat American is getting old, fast.
I'm making a lot of great friends, and we meet as a big group once a week. I LIVE FOR THAT DAY. It feels America again.
I have so much more to say, but I can't rely on the internet much longer.
BUT GUESS WHAT!?!! I GOT A PHONE! CALL Me Or TEXT ME Right this instant!!!!!
from the states dial 255 787 788 683. The last 9 digits is my #. I think it's just 255 + the number, but google calling/texting to Tanzania to find out.
Lots of love,. Shout out to Huffy: my only letter so far. You made my week. You go girl. I read your letter maybe 10 times.
Lots of love and happiness to everyone.
Your pal,
Katie
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