And I'm Back!

And here we go. Because my ability to string cohesive sentences together has mysteriously gone missing, I'll do my best to get the basic points across. Every day is slightly more ridiculous than the last and guess what? I'm not complaining!

Highlights since Iringa In-Service Training:

About two weeks ago I cooked lunch for 500 students. Yep. The girl who eats spoonfuls of peanut butter and dry oatmeal for dinner can sure find her way around a kitchen...err, 'outdoor cooking area'. Imagine a cauldron. Essentially the biggest pot you've ever seen. A pot large enough for at least 5 small children to sit in. Let's call it a cauldron though, more fun that way. Also some foreshadowing into a bit of Harry Potter-esque sorcery fiascos...(Are you hooked yet?)

I arrived to the 'outdoor cooking vicinity' at 7am. Myself and Mama Mpishi (Translates: Mama Chef) grabbed 20L buckets and headed in search of the nearest working water source. Thankfully it was only about a 3 minute walk. After filling about 10 buckets, we were set. We then collected pieces of firewood (or small trees) to build a fire. I'm sure I've described this before, but here's a refresher course on large-scale Tanzanian food prep. Imagine three large rocks, not boulders-not pebbles. Let's throw out a number-10 lbs each and maybe about a foot long. Arrange them into a triangle formation with about 1 foot space in the center. (Sorry for any non-Americans...but it's not my fault I don't understand metric.) Now you place your cauldron on top of the rocks. From every opening in the triangle you slide long piece of wood and get a nice little fire going. The amount of smoke is unbelievable. Your eyes burn, your throat burns, but most of all there is a horrible tickle in your nose that makes you wiggle it constantly to achieve relief. It doesn't come. That's when you take your cute white butt out of the kitchen and stand to the side while Mama Mpishi does the dirty work.

The corn and beans, all 200+ lbs of it are divvied into the three cauldrons. About 60L of water goes in to start. After about 4 hours the water has come to a boil! Then we add salt (NOT IODIZED THANK YOU VERY MUCH). And finally, the very best part...stirring! There is a wooden plank about 10 feet long that serves perfectly as a spoon. Any splinters or creatures on the plank just add flavor naturally.

Around 12:45 pm our work is almost done. Six students arrive and with leaves and grass as oven mits, lift the boiling concoction called Kande from the fire. The lunch bell rings and a stampede of students can be felt from across campus. They line up girls on one side boys on the other by age. CUTE CUTE CUTE. I insisted on participating from start to finish so I took my place in front of the boys and slopped food onto about 250 plates. In 15 minutes. If all else fails in life, I'm fairly certain I could make a pretty good showing as Lunch Lady.

The local salooni (or barbshop) is a hub of young guys with stories to tell and the time to do it. The village barber, also one of my English students, happens to be one of the nicest guys around. How do I know this? He's never once asked to marry me. Because he cuts hair, it's imperative to have a generator working during the day. Trust me, that is rare. I generally charge my cell phone at his shop and last week decided to hang around until it was ready. After the barrage of questions and comments from 18-25 year old guys ("So you're 15 right?" "What kind of crops are there in America?" "Why are you working for free?" "How do I talk to girls?" "Will you help me find a wife?" "Will you be my wife?" and so on) I decided to get a little education of my own. I boldly insisted I was a whiz with the hair razors and for everyone to take the afternoon off, I'm in charge now. Of course they thought it was a fantastic idea. For the next 2 hours I trimmed beards, applied baby powder, and attracted the attention of everyone in a 500 ft radius. It was AWESOME.

As for real work, it's going pretty well! I teach life skills three days a week and adult English once a week. I'm working on a grant to build new school toilets and will soon start the process of acquiring 100 chickens to raise at the primary school! Farmer Kate is about to have a chicken farm! The objective in buying an obscene amount of chickens is to sell their eggs in town. This way, once I leave, the school will be able to receive reliable income for projects like electricity, expanding the garden, and providing supplies for orphans. It's going to be great!

I left my notebook with 'blog-worthy' anecdotes at home so I'll sum up with a harrowing tale of witchcraft. From January-April 2008, there was a pretty severe problem with possessed children at the primary school. Almost every day a handful of girls would simply drop to the ground unconscious. They would speak with their eyes closed and say something along the lines of, "I'm not Sarah, Sarah is in the field farming now. She'll be back later. I'm Mwalimu X." Every child would name the same teacher who happened to be the wife of the principal. Sometimes the kids would get violent. They'd take off running down the road screaming and punching anyone that got in their way. When they came to, they wouldn't remember a thing and many insisted they had never passed out.

In April, a group of villagers got drunk and stormed the principal's house with machetes, knives, and firewood. After breaking down the door and beating her to near death, she escaped and ran to the village office. She spent a week in the hospital and recovered. Of course, the family was forced to flee. For nearly two months, the village had no principal as all were too afraid to come. Finally in June a new family came, and thank goodness for it, because they are now my family. The faintings stopped and life returned to normal.

Why am I talking about the past? Well, I had heard only bits and pieces of this story until the former Peace Corps volunteer in my village came back to live for a few months. She gave me the full scoop and I was naturally shocked. Well how's this for creepy...the next day one girl fell. And the next day 2 more. And again last week, I found a girl unconscious on the ground. Ahhh. I can't say I believe in sourcery, but the villagers certainly do. There is a certain fear derived from their fear. Although I know it's probably just a pyscho-social chain reaction, their fear is so pure that it absolutely gets me on edge. As long as no one starts naming Mwalimu Katie as the witch, I'm going to be just fine.

More to come soon, but I have 58 seconds left until my internet cuts. Lots of love to everyone!

And a special shout-out to the Maletics. Mr. and Mrs. Maletic, thank you so much for your support and kind words. But mostly, thank you for paying Emily's phone bill and allowing her to send me international texts with great frequency! Emily, get yourself to the village already.

xoxo

I'm Sorry

I have completely and utterly neglected my blog for ages now. My intentions are always to update but time in its crazy way has escaped me yet again.

I promise, promise next weekend or shortly thereafter a full update will be posted. For now know that I'm healthy, happy, and thinking about all of you.

XOXO