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
Monday, February 16, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Goat is Good for the Soul
With only two days to go of In Service Training, the best word to describe my experience is: spent. Meetings begin at 8am everyday and last until 4-6pm each evening. Everything is discussed in English, Swahili, and many variations of Swahinglish. The topics, some interesting, some repulsive range from creating income generation projects for orphans, the relationship between TB and HIV, and the gag-worthy consequences of STI's and irresponsible sex. Needless to say, there has been a barrage of information and it is not unlikely that quite a bit has been lost in translation. Each volunteer has been joined by one Tanzanian from our village and selected as our counterpart, whether temporary or for the duration of our service.
My counterpart is amaaazing. He is the Baptist pastor in Mhaji but is also one of two leaders in the People Living With HIV/AIDS group I now work with. Tanzania is an extremely religious country, and for a pastor to advocate equality and support for all living with HIV, it is nothing short of very special. Although I only plan on working with him for projects regarding AIDS, I couldn't have chosen a more reliable, kind-spirited, and supportive counterpart. He's also REALLY tiny. I hope this information makes you smile as much as it does me: Everyday, no matter the outfit, Milton wears a red belt. This belt is so large that he has to tuck it into every belt hole in his pants until it reaches the middle of his back. He also is an very enthusiastic clapper.
Yesterday, as everyone in the entire world knows, was Obama's innaugaration. As you can imagine, it was a most unusual occasion to observe in Africa. About half of our group decided to watch it at a local Tanzanian bar that serves up some amazing goat. I sat at the main bar for awhile, chatting with people, watching the TV and drinking a cold Tanzanian beer. As Obama began to speak, I pushed myself through the crowd and into a small side room with a TV. At first, I sat on the floor, eyes glued. A barmaid immediately stood up and pushed me into her seat. As I fell in the wooden chair with tattered cushion and no seat cover, against the wall and at an extremely awkward view of the tv inside an iron cage suspended from the ceiling, Tanzania fell away.
Ok, I lied, Tanzania never really falls away. The man next to me persistently slurped his goat soup, barmaids screamed across the room at eachother, and a lone cockroach meandered up and down the wall, only inches from my face. Beyond that, however, I was lost in the moment. As Barak Obama promised to put science to it's proper use and harness natural energy, as he acknowledged those sitting in villages waiting for change to come, I was overwhelmed. I was proud. I was excited. This is a man who made me cry, not from embarassment or shame, but for instilling hope and possibility. The room was spellbound and the night electric. KARIBU SANA BARAKA OBAMA, RAIS WETU MMPYA (A huge welcome to Barak Obama, our new president).
There is one idea I'd like to share with everyone that came from a cross-cultural session we had this morning. We were split into groups: Tanzanians and Americans. We were given a scenario of a post-apocalyptic situation in which 11 people remained to propegate the species. The only remaining safe haven had space enough for 5 people. After receiving small biographies of each person, it was then our duty to kill the other 6. We quickly killed anyone past child-bearing age, of extreme religious persuasion, and let the prostitute, single mother, and teenage boy who believed in abortion to survive. Among those not so fortunate were a 6month-old healthy baby, a middle-aged priest, and 71 year-old doctor, and the 37 year-old wife of a professor we let live. Not a shocking conclusion for young, liberal Americans. Prostitutes can have big hearts and single mothers are survivors!
Who did the Tanzanians keep? The pastor, the married couple and their 6 month-old child, and a teenage boy. How will the species continue? The priest can't have sex, the mother has 2, maybe 3 years of fertility left, and one day in about 15 years the little girl can make babies with the one remaining boy that is not her FATHER. OY VEY. The Tanzanians that decided this are not stupid, in fact, they're extremely intelligent and among the most respected citizens in their village. They were simply trying to form the most reputable group of people to continue the human race. The prostitute, although she had nurses training, was of ill-character and must not reflect the future. The priest, 56-year old and unable to procreate was valued highest as a spiritual necessity. And naturally, the family cannot be spared.
These decisions sparked a bit of fierce debate among the Americans and our counterparts. The take-home story, 'everyone is right and it's a matter of how you were raised blah blah' is not the moral here. What I noticed is that Tanzanians firmly, stead-fastly believe in their choices. And not just in this silly game. There is a single way to do everything and deviating from the point is excruciating.
While this may provoke discomfort or confusion, I really believe that as Americans we will be able to empathize (if not agreeing with) our Tanzanian communities, more than they are willing or capable of empathizing with us. Granted, this skill is a luxury derived from media, moderate wealth in comparison, and American schooling, it has become apparent in my daily activities. Two-years is not long enough to change behavior on a large scale. But behavior change is probably the most imporant facet of my contribution in Peace Corps. If I can teach people why it's important to brush your teeth twice and day and people actually follow through, or if using condoms is mandatory every time, and maybe 1 prostitute listens, well that's going to be a bigger victory than throwing money at the problem or simply getting frustrated and moving on to something else.
I have 3 minutes left on internet so here's a round-up on my social life: DISCO, DISCO, DISCO, goat, beer, DISCO, goat, friends, beer, goat, friends.
Lots of love!
Kate
My counterpart is amaaazing. He is the Baptist pastor in Mhaji but is also one of two leaders in the People Living With HIV/AIDS group I now work with. Tanzania is an extremely religious country, and for a pastor to advocate equality and support for all living with HIV, it is nothing short of very special. Although I only plan on working with him for projects regarding AIDS, I couldn't have chosen a more reliable, kind-spirited, and supportive counterpart. He's also REALLY tiny. I hope this information makes you smile as much as it does me: Everyday, no matter the outfit, Milton wears a red belt. This belt is so large that he has to tuck it into every belt hole in his pants until it reaches the middle of his back. He also is an very enthusiastic clapper.
Yesterday, as everyone in the entire world knows, was Obama's innaugaration. As you can imagine, it was a most unusual occasion to observe in Africa. About half of our group decided to watch it at a local Tanzanian bar that serves up some amazing goat. I sat at the main bar for awhile, chatting with people, watching the TV and drinking a cold Tanzanian beer. As Obama began to speak, I pushed myself through the crowd and into a small side room with a TV. At first, I sat on the floor, eyes glued. A barmaid immediately stood up and pushed me into her seat. As I fell in the wooden chair with tattered cushion and no seat cover, against the wall and at an extremely awkward view of the tv inside an iron cage suspended from the ceiling, Tanzania fell away.
Ok, I lied, Tanzania never really falls away. The man next to me persistently slurped his goat soup, barmaids screamed across the room at eachother, and a lone cockroach meandered up and down the wall, only inches from my face. Beyond that, however, I was lost in the moment. As Barak Obama promised to put science to it's proper use and harness natural energy, as he acknowledged those sitting in villages waiting for change to come, I was overwhelmed. I was proud. I was excited. This is a man who made me cry, not from embarassment or shame, but for instilling hope and possibility. The room was spellbound and the night electric. KARIBU SANA BARAKA OBAMA, RAIS WETU MMPYA (A huge welcome to Barak Obama, our new president).
There is one idea I'd like to share with everyone that came from a cross-cultural session we had this morning. We were split into groups: Tanzanians and Americans. We were given a scenario of a post-apocalyptic situation in which 11 people remained to propegate the species. The only remaining safe haven had space enough for 5 people. After receiving small biographies of each person, it was then our duty to kill the other 6. We quickly killed anyone past child-bearing age, of extreme religious persuasion, and let the prostitute, single mother, and teenage boy who believed in abortion to survive. Among those not so fortunate were a 6month-old healthy baby, a middle-aged priest, and 71 year-old doctor, and the 37 year-old wife of a professor we let live. Not a shocking conclusion for young, liberal Americans. Prostitutes can have big hearts and single mothers are survivors!
Who did the Tanzanians keep? The pastor, the married couple and their 6 month-old child, and a teenage boy. How will the species continue? The priest can't have sex, the mother has 2, maybe 3 years of fertility left, and one day in about 15 years the little girl can make babies with the one remaining boy that is not her FATHER. OY VEY. The Tanzanians that decided this are not stupid, in fact, they're extremely intelligent and among the most respected citizens in their village. They were simply trying to form the most reputable group of people to continue the human race. The prostitute, although she had nurses training, was of ill-character and must not reflect the future. The priest, 56-year old and unable to procreate was valued highest as a spiritual necessity. And naturally, the family cannot be spared.
These decisions sparked a bit of fierce debate among the Americans and our counterparts. The take-home story, 'everyone is right and it's a matter of how you were raised blah blah' is not the moral here. What I noticed is that Tanzanians firmly, stead-fastly believe in their choices. And not just in this silly game. There is a single way to do everything and deviating from the point is excruciating.
While this may provoke discomfort or confusion, I really believe that as Americans we will be able to empathize (if not agreeing with) our Tanzanian communities, more than they are willing or capable of empathizing with us. Granted, this skill is a luxury derived from media, moderate wealth in comparison, and American schooling, it has become apparent in my daily activities. Two-years is not long enough to change behavior on a large scale. But behavior change is probably the most imporant facet of my contribution in Peace Corps. If I can teach people why it's important to brush your teeth twice and day and people actually follow through, or if using condoms is mandatory every time, and maybe 1 prostitute listens, well that's going to be a bigger victory than throwing money at the problem or simply getting frustrated and moving on to something else.
I have 3 minutes left on internet so here's a round-up on my social life: DISCO, DISCO, DISCO, goat, beer, DISCO, goat, friends, beer, goat, friends.
Lots of love!
Kate
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Vacation was amazing. I beached, I ate, I danced, I explored. And now I'm headed back to the village for only FIVE days until our In-Service Training in Iringa. Because my bus leaves soon and I have a stye in my eye so large I can hardly see the computer screen, I'll break down the trip by its highlights:
Places visited:
1. Njombe for Christmas
2. Morogoro town
3. Dar es Salaam
4. Kipepeo Beach
Transportation Totals:
1. Bus-22 hours
2. Taxi-2 hours
3. Dala-Dalas-2 hours
4. Ferry-30 minutes
5-Feet-?
Food and Beverages:
1. Hamburgers-3
2. Chicken Nuggets-8
3. Spring Rolls-6
4. Pizza-2
5. All-inclusive champagne breakfast-1
6. Beers-40?
7. Bottle of Tanzanian Gin-1
Recreation:
1. Bouncing in the waves
2. Dancing at a Bollywood disco
3. Parousing the fish market
4. Skinny dipping in the Indian Ocean
5. Staring at items in the grocery store (choosing anything to buy would have been too overwhelming)
6. Reading O magazine
7. Air-Conditioning
8. Hitch-hiking with foreign embassy cars in Dar
9. Staring unabashedly at white people
10. Going to the MALL!
Vacation was a smashing success. I enjoyed a lot of R&R, explored more of the country, and had amazing food. I am now a proud devotee of Indian cuisine! WHAT?
Village highlight:
Returning home from a day in Njombe I was talking to my bus driver and told him that in America I knew how to drive. He, like everyone else, thought that was pretty funny and of course didn't believe me. I told him one day, I would drive his bus. The conversation changed and I thought nothing of it.
When we had arrived at the village neighboring mine and most people had unloaded, he stopped the car and told me it was my turn! I took a deep breath, got behind the wheel and proceded to offroad in the village bus for about 10 minutes! It was AWESOME. I did learn that the brakes were almost non-existent, something I probably would have rather been blissfully ignorant to. I tried to tell some village friends about my adventure, but no one believed me! Oh well.
Headed back home in about 1 hour. Sunday, however, begins a two-week long conference in Iringa town (about 3 hours from Njombe) that will kick off my official job. I'm bringing a counterpart from my village and we'll be learning about implementing AIDS education, permaculture (google it-it's an awesome concept), and grant writing. After the meeting finishes on January 24, I'll be absolutely ready and charged to start projects and begin turning the wheels of change. Woohoo.
Have a great week everyone and remember, I'm only a skype away!
#- +255-0787788683
Katie
Places visited:
1. Njombe for Christmas
2. Morogoro town
3. Dar es Salaam
4. Kipepeo Beach
Transportation Totals:
1. Bus-22 hours
2. Taxi-2 hours
3. Dala-Dalas-2 hours
4. Ferry-30 minutes
5-Feet-?
Food and Beverages:
1. Hamburgers-3
2. Chicken Nuggets-8
3. Spring Rolls-6
4. Pizza-2
5. All-inclusive champagne breakfast-1
6. Beers-40?
7. Bottle of Tanzanian Gin-1
Recreation:
1. Bouncing in the waves
2. Dancing at a Bollywood disco
3. Parousing the fish market
4. Skinny dipping in the Indian Ocean
5. Staring at items in the grocery store (choosing anything to buy would have been too overwhelming)
6. Reading O magazine
7. Air-Conditioning
8. Hitch-hiking with foreign embassy cars in Dar
9. Staring unabashedly at white people
10. Going to the MALL!
Vacation was a smashing success. I enjoyed a lot of R&R, explored more of the country, and had amazing food. I am now a proud devotee of Indian cuisine! WHAT?
Village highlight:
Returning home from a day in Njombe I was talking to my bus driver and told him that in America I knew how to drive. He, like everyone else, thought that was pretty funny and of course didn't believe me. I told him one day, I would drive his bus. The conversation changed and I thought nothing of it.
When we had arrived at the village neighboring mine and most people had unloaded, he stopped the car and told me it was my turn! I took a deep breath, got behind the wheel and proceded to offroad in the village bus for about 10 minutes! It was AWESOME. I did learn that the brakes were almost non-existent, something I probably would have rather been blissfully ignorant to. I tried to tell some village friends about my adventure, but no one believed me! Oh well.
Headed back home in about 1 hour. Sunday, however, begins a two-week long conference in Iringa town (about 3 hours from Njombe) that will kick off my official job. I'm bringing a counterpart from my village and we'll be learning about implementing AIDS education, permaculture (google it-it's an awesome concept), and grant writing. After the meeting finishes on January 24, I'll be absolutely ready and charged to start projects and begin turning the wheels of change. Woohoo.
Have a great week everyone and remember, I'm only a skype away!
#- +255-0787788683
Katie
Monday, December 22, 2008
A Letter to Friends
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
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
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
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