March Showers Bring...April Showers?

I'm back. I was never really far away, just have lost the motivation absolutely critical to a fulfilling post. I'll try my best today, but will be cheating a little...You'll see how soon.



To say March has been busy would drastically over-exaggerate my pace of life. I generally am going to and fro between town, a village meeting, or Peace Corps 'social event' but somehow seem to have the hours to read several books a week. Much like a cat, I can lose afternoons to watching the precise line of ants move across my living room floor or watching the clouds bend and twist like balloon animals.

Will I ever learn to negotiate the strange folds of time or will she continue to manipulate me? I'm assuming the latter. A day can be the most excruciatingly epic experience while the last 9 MONTHS in Tanzania have been a blink. Not much has changed in the village. I teach a few days a week, I play with my gaggle of rag tag kids building mud pies or coloring. I eat my neighbors food sheepishly but with gusto. I talk about hookers with old drunk men and how to get a girl to like you with young guys. I play sports with kids and make cookies for friends. I don't really know if any of this consitutes as work. But then again 2/3 goals of Peace Corps are to allow another culture to understand yours and to understand another people's culture. If this is work, it's pretty fun!

I've been experiencing a lot of guilt recently...well always. If I spend a great day in town and don't want to leave, I usually end up staying another day but beat myself up for at least 6 hours. Joining the Peace Corps I was ready to sign away all hope for friends, entertainment, and any luxuries of my previous life (pizza, internet, pedicures). I expected to live in a village for 2 years and tie up the whole package with a nice little bow. I would look back one day at the Peace Corps "experience" as grueling and eye-opening. I would remember my hardships and smile with pride. Instead, I am living in a foggy, faded but still recognizable lifestyle. I'm not the replica Peace Corps brochure tanned, rugged girl staring into the face of poverty and lifting all out of oppression. Ha, are you kidding me? My villagers help me understand far more than I've been able to teach them. But somehow, I think I'm going to manage.

Some recent events of notice:

2 Sundays ago I had a 7th grade tea party. All girls from Standard 7 were invited to my house for tea, snacks, and girl talk. For about 2 hours we read health magazines in Swahili, told jokes, and even practiced some English. In a word: PRECIOUS. Can't wait for next months fiesta...or should I say sherehe?

I was robbed...again. Coming back from a short trip, some very crafty little thief removed my bag from the bus. In it was money, clothes (TOWN CLOTHES aka normal clothes), camera battery/charger (hence no pictures will be posted for awhile), and assorted items that while of insignificant monetary value, meant a lot to have away from home. Take home sentiment: I hate thieves. They have such power here. If someone decides to take something from me I have virtually no option and there are absolutely NO consequences. Oh unless that person is caught in the act...then they are beaten to death. Ultimately, I'd rather be out a few tshirts than have blood on my hands.

I'm helping a friend in the village start a 'coffee shop.' Before you think of ice blended mochas and carrot cake, let me define 'coffee shop'. It's called an Mghahawa and is basically a small restaurant that serves snack food. In Tanzania it means chai tea and fried carbs. Knowing very, very, I repeat, practically nothing about business we're going to take it slow. One thing I do know, however, is that a successful business means beating the competion by providing something quality that they don't have. What does this mean? BANANA BREAD! It's a fruit that is cheap and plentiful and we're ready to capitalize. :) I'll keep you posted...

How's this for strange timing? About 3 days after I submitted a grant to build new, quality toilets at my primary school, our entire toilet building collapsed into the ground during a rainstorm. Two days later scores of parents and village leaders were digging trenches for temporary toilets. In a few short weeks I'll give everyone the down low on how to help me build these fabulous new toilets! No shovel required.

In Tanzanian culture, when someone is sick it is mandatory you visit and 'look' at them. Yes, the way it translates is "Have you gone to look at the sick person yet" "Yes, I went yesterday, and today, and I'm going this evening as well." As Americans can you think of anything worse than 10 people gathering around you after you've puked your brains out or have diareah so badly it's more efficient to nap on the toilet? No probably not. While in college I might get out of things by saying I have a headache, I will go to any length to hide the fact I'm feeling under the weather. I recently had to look at a sick friend. It was quite pathetic. She was laying on a straw mat in her corn field sleeping. As I approached her temporary care takers insisted on waking the poor woman up so she would know I had arrived. I wanted to shout "Let the woman rest!" but instead waited patiently for her to stir awake and tell me how she already had recovered. It's absolutely one of the most awkward song and dances of Tanzanian culture.

I want to end with an essay one of my students wrote. He's not technically my student as he studies at a school a few hours walk from my house. He is in the equivalent of 11th grade. Incidentally, he happens to be one of the poorest and brightest kids I know. He approached me last year and matter-of-factly told me he needs to learn more English but has nothing to pay me. I shrugged and said sure come over next week, assuming he'd flake or we would spend hours with basic introduction. He appeared dutifully the following week, in a crisply ironed shirt armed with notebook, pen, and a lot of determination. We ended up meeting twice a week during his vacation and by the end of Day 1 this kid had blown me away. He is FLUENT in English. And with no help from teachers. He studied by lantern for hours every night memorizing the dictionary and exercise books of his older brother. His poverty is so great that he cannot afford to sleep at the school where he studies. Instead he boards with a family who forces him to bring his food from our village and cook it all on his own. Preparing a single meal in Tanzania can take up to 3 hours which simply cannot be spared for a dedicated student. We've worked out a deal in which I pay for the family to cook his food if he promises all As and Bs. He has a notebook that's just between us in which he talks about his goals, challenges, and dreams...all in English. After a visit last weekend, he forgot the notebook. I flipped it open and immidiately was drawn to this essay. Remember this kid is in 11th grade, speaks more English than anyone at his school (INCLUDING his teachers), and has absolutely nothing nothing nothing.

This is his exact essay, and for authenticity I'm not changing any spelling errors.

"This Time Tomorrow"

Everyday when waking up before leaving for school, I begin thinking about where shall I be this time tomorrow?

It is very difficult for Tanzanians to ask themselves such a question. For if we did, Development in Tanzania would grow rapidly. No one would live in the slums. I'm one of the people who live in the slum. My life is so wonderful that I don't like to go home with my friends with me. I still tell my friends that someday I'll show them our house, but it is untrue I will not.

A lot of students think that my parents are very rich, able to send me to a trition during the holidays but, this has been a secrete to me. I don't like to tell them directly that I'm poor for I may feel myself elianated.

I sometimes think if I was a president, what I would to my citizens andhow I would raise the standard living of the people in the slums. People in the slums are said to be less educated than those in developed towns. They dig, they plant, they weed, they fertilize, and they harvest and they then sell these products at low price to the rich people without considering how much (money) they spent on buying fertilisers and how much they sell their products. It is how development in the slums is stagnated. The position of the president would change development in the slums because it is he/she who controls all activities in the country.

"Where shall I be this time tomorrow? " I say to myself, I want to know tomorrow and not yesterday.

____________________
WOW, right? And that's my answer...Guilt, poverty, privilege, blah blah blah. This kid is why I'm here.

Love to everyone!

Katie

Pictures!

Because I'm not motivated enough to spin any tales today...PICTURES

1. Some of my favorite kiddies.

2. My village nurse's big town wedding.

3. Decades costume party in Iringa

4. Mariamu making faces.

5. 7th grade girls building a road (I helped!)

For more pictures click here!

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2541912&id=2205190&l=b3bbd