Dearest followers,
My time here is swiftly drawing to a close. But three weeks from today, I will have returned (that is future perfect tense of “return”. Guess who’s writing her English examinations?) to the grand ole US of A. Though I do love my time here in Tanzania, I feel that I will be ready to go when the time comes. Last year, I felt I was scrabbling to conclude conversations, tighten friendships, and solidify projects. This year, however, I feel confident in the work I have accomplished, and I am more secure in my relationships here. In truth, I am getting quite tired.
Although there are many wonderful things about being a volunteer here in Tanzania, I would be lying to you and myself if I portrayed the volunteer experience as an idyllic, heartwarming, and protracted Kodak moment. There are stresses. And despite the fact that my working hours are shorter than what they would be in the US, and my environment is much more lax (I am my own boss, I am essentially on one long holiday... I have realized these things), there are other external factors which make this work much more involved than it at first seems.
When one begins to analyze what is really involved in being a guest, yet a family member in a completely different place and culture, it becomes apparent that much more is required of one mentally and physically than it at first seems. Let me first preface this reflective (and wholly subjective, I admit that), semi-analytic, and unnecessary panegyric by saying that these thoughts are entirely my own, and particular to my experiences, and I am in no way commenting on an entire culture or trying to disrespect the culture that I have come to love. “Woah there, slugger,” you’re thinking. “She’s gonna say some crazy s*#t now!”
Not really. I do have some radical thoughts, but I prefer to thoroughly organize them before doing something silly like splash them all over the internet (racist, sexist, and grammatically-challenged YouTubers, that was for you)...
I’m in retreat, dear readers. My mother, sister and friends can tell you its one of my less admirable characteristics. I’m tired. And when I get tired, I retreat. I hole up inside myself, inside my work. Fortunately (sort of), I’ve been enabled to order this psychic (and somewhat physical) retreat as I’ve been commissioned to take on the tedious task of typing all of the terminal examinations for Fanaka. They number at about fifty, and having me type them saves us valuable time and money. It also guarantees efficiency. But I’ve used this task as an excuse to pull away, to hunker down in my room for hours undisturbed, not having to interact with anyone. Brian Wilson couldn’t have written it better.
There’s a world where I can go and tell my secrets to, in my room.
Well, as my computer is currently within the jurisdiction of my room, I’ll let you in on my secret(s).
“But what am I hiding from?” you may ask. Don’t I love Tanzania, my family, my students? “What sort of crappy volunteer are you?” you’re thinking. “I want my money back!”
And I wouldn’t blame you for thinking so. To be sure, its possible that no one notices, for I still arrive at school punctually in the morning, I return home for lunch around 2:30 or 3, spend some time talking with Babu if he is around, and then go back to school for an hour or two to hang out with the students. I usually work for a couple hours in the evening, typing, and then come down for tea, and read or write while the family watches TV. After dinner, I bathe and bid everyone goodnight, and then work for a couple more hours before going to sleep. Sometimes I wake up early, as dawn is breaking, and get in a half hour or so of typing before dressing and preparing for the day.
So I’m not so anti-social as the word “retreat” first made me out to be. But I am withdrawing. I have begun avoiding running errands at all costs. I have begun to hate going to the road. Last year and even the first few months of my time here, it was exciting and a bit of a relief to get out, see all the people in the shops, and try my luck with my Swahili abilities. Now I mostly stick to the house and the school.
The harassment is wearing on me. To get to the road, I have to walk past the old mango tree and half-built shop where the laborers hang out, waiting for a cement truck to come by and take them to the quarry for work. They lounge there, quite convincing me that an inner-tube makes a comfortable piece of furniture, and holler as I pass. Every day. I had hoped that eventually they would get used to me, that the novelty would wear off. Except for my “boyfriend” Michael (notably, also the only other person in Bunju who is taller than me. Sometimes he walks beside me for a bit, quietly attempting to speak English. He’s very adorable and kind), they continue to hoot, whistle and shout for my attention. Sometimes I smile and greet them; lately I just try to avoid eye contact.
I’ve grown nervous around the young and middle aged me who accost me on the road, earnestly demanding that I teach them some skill- improve their English or teach them to play piano. Sometimes they talk at me for an hour, arguing without listening to the fact that I already have students, and their English is much worse than yours, so they obviously need my help more, sir. I’m sorry. I don’t have the time or inclination to help you (this was to a young man who had completed secondary school as well as Form V and VI, had extremely good English, but insisted that it was necessary I help him with his “hobby” of music), now please leave me alone. There’s the older men, who go in for the handshake and then furiously grip my hand in theirs, grasp the upper part of my arm in their other hand, and ask when they can visit me. “Uh, how about a week after never?” I think, but respect for elders is important here, and I can’t afford the safety risk of offending someone. So I smile and try to placate the man, whose proposals have now attracted a crowd of snickering shopkeepers, each second becoming more nervous about the vice-grip he has on my arm.
Eventually I extricate myself, and power off to where I need to go: the stationary, daladala or really anywhere.
There’s the children, who are less alarming but a more perfect metaphor for how I am viewed by the village people here. As I make my way along the paths and through the shops, they pop out of every possible crevice and doorway, crying, “MZUNGU! MZUNGU! MZUNGU!” Sometimes its in alarm, as they’ve been taken by surprise by my impressive stature; sometimes a herd of them will follow me, latching onto my hands and dragging adoringly alongside me. Usually they try out the rudimentary English they’ve learned in school, “Goodmorningteacherhowareyouwearefinethankyou!” they blurt out, all in one word. I correct them sometimes, “Sema good afternoon”, and they squeal and run home to tell their parents.
Sometimes I hear the cry from all the way across the road, “Mzuuuuuuuungu! Mzuuuuuungu!” and I look up, and can barely see the small child hiding in the shadows of her mother’s skirt. I wave. Nothing. But she will continue to shout.
I don’t blame them, the men or children (usually women leave me alone, or are less... blunt?). For that’s what I am to the people of Bunju, a white woman. Or worse, a white American woman. The labels cannot be extricated. They are so closely intertwined and mixed that to alter one of them would vastly change my experience here. I am, of course, grateful for being able to experience a foreign society, culture, economy and place in this manner, for it gives me a better understanding of myself, my home and the people who surround me. I’m thankful that I have the liberal arts background and an understanding of the pluralities of the vast array of intersections of race, class, sexuality, gender and dis/ability. I understand that it is my own country, self-obsessed yet guilt-ridden, that has to a certain extent created these men who hoot and whistle at me, the students whose English is limited to the words “baby”, “bi--h” and “n----r”. They want to be Western, the men from the road see me as a novelty, a zoo animal; my students see me as a ticket to what they imagine to be paradise.
I’m trying to frame these harassments and pleas for money, transport, sponsorship, marriage within a critical analysis of culture, socio-economics and global relations. But sometimes I’m just tired. I’m tired of being a novelty, and though I am a ham of the basest stripe (“What?!?” you exclaim incredulously, “Surely, you jest. Not she!”), this is not the sort of attention I’d choose. I’m beginning to understand what it might feel like to be different in the US, to be a person of color, to explore a sexuality that is not “straight”, to be disabled, Muslim, Jewish, any number of conditions that is not white, straight, male and Christian (for though we kid ourselves that all are created equal, we can all admit that the white man is still the most powerful creature on earth. This is not another feminist observation, dripping with disdain, it is a practical fact, and something we must acknowledge and work with. For a time); and also understanding even more so what it means to be white, cis-gendered and female both here and at home.
Though I balk and grit my teeth every time another motorcycle jockey cries “Hello, my girlfriend!” and jerks his head suggestively; though I wonder “Why do you bother? What are you hoping I’m going to do? Drop my bag and spring into your lap?”, I know that its no different then the men in cars who have honked their horns at me in the US; its just less apparent at home. Some of the people here have expectations about me- what music I enjoy, how much money I have, my availability for sex or marriage, simply based on the fact that I am female, white and American.
Do we not have similar prejudices regarding men and women of color? Do we not make assumptions about LGBTQQ (lesbian, gay, bi, trans, queer and questioning) people? Aren’t our expectations for men and women who are Muslim or non-Christian irrational and somewhat ignorant?
I ask these questions not to criticize my fellows, family and friends at home, nor to say that Americans are a crude bunch. Yet every society has its merits and demerits. Though I love the geography of Tanzania, am fascinated by its rich history, its vibrant cultural traditions, its foods, languages, habits, clothing, music and art, like any country and culture it has its drawbacks. I think that realizing those drawbacks has made my volunteer experience more valuable. European Americans don’t have the history of colonization that affects every aspect of life here. We have created a strong government, a powerful and pervasive entertainment culture, and hold in our hands the ability to influence many peoples and societies.
Tanzanians are still trying to find their voice. The country is young- not even 50 years old. They have managed to create a peaceful and welcoming country out of a group of about 120 completely different tribes and traditions. Each tribe had its own foods, habits, beliefs, language and systems of government. Yet somehow they have managed to surmount those differences and create a peaceful community. Though it took our own country almost 200 years to recognize and attempt to give rights to minority and special interest groups, in just a few years Tanzania had groups for women, the blind, AIDS/HIV victims, albinos, children and many others.
Tanzania is trying to stake out its place in this increasingly technological and globalized world, to flash with pride its heritage and culture, yet still stand on its own among weighty Western countries. I believe that sometimes that struggle, that difficulty of finding the balance between tradition and accepting the inevitability of the future, has its drawbacks. Tanzanians have the means to view the Western world, but only small parts of it. Africa is not a country. Tanzania is an unique country, just like the rest of African nations, and its poverty level does not mean that it has less to offer the world than any other nation. We have expectations and assumptions about Africans and Tanzanians. But they have expectations and assumptions about Americans too, and not all of them are as favorable as we’d like to believe.
My students are not just adorable faces in a brochure, they are real people to me, people who frustrate me and make me angry and who sometimes I want to throttle. They are kids. The teachers who ask me to marry them, to take them home with me and basically be their “sugar mama”, can be annoying. At times I grudgingly wish that the aid we lend to Fanaka couldn’t somehow benefit only the students, and not also the teachers by proxy, some of whom can be lazy and disrespectful. But they are people. Teachers, students, young boys by the road, roly-poly toddlers shouting “mzungu”, weary mamas with massive loads atop their heads are all people. Yes, they are poor. Yes, they are sick. However, if we see only those pitiable bits, those aspects that sell t-shirts and can be sung about by Bono or adopted by Angelina Jolie, we are not acknowledging the humanity of the people in the developing world
Real people are troubling. They are annoying. They can be rude, disrespectful and crass. And though it chafes me sometimes to admit it, it is those less sunny characteristics that make being a volunteer more rewarding and real. I have fully shed the self-indulgent pity for “Africans” and adopted a more pragmatic understanding of Tanzanians, and for that I am grateful.
I am tired. I am weary of the harassment, weighed down by my own insurmountable differences of race, gender, class, and culture. To a certain extent, I acknowledge that some of these hurdles can never be jumped. They will color every relationship I have here, and the sooner I accept that and move on, the sooner I can become a more effective volunteer and advocate.
I am tired. But I have not lost hope.
Saturday, May 28
Thursday, May 19
That’s My Kind of Tribe
Dear friends and family of the Tanzanian Education Project,
I greet you as a solitary volunteer today, alone in this great, wide, semi-wilderness. I’m a loner, Dottie, a rebel.
In truth, I am not all that alone. My faithful partner in crime (or, what... “enacting positive change”? “Crime” has a much more rakish ring to it), Kristina departed for the motherland on Saturday, and I am glad she has arrived safely. Since her departure, I have become increasingly busy. Though it was nice to have a companion, I can’t say that I don’t enjoy solitude as well. Having a contemporary present affords one the luxury of communing with someone of like mind and similar cultural capital. Lacking that, one is forced to find different ways to keep one’s mind and sense of humor stimulated. So, naturally, I have begun working a lot more (and also reading Dickens... oh the depths to which we sink!) and have accomplished a great deal of work thus far.
Kristina, if you’re reading this, I’d have to say, you left on an opportune day. After a bumpy journey to the airport (and “bumpy” is putting it mildly; as one might say “warm” when visiting the sun’s surface; “Oh, how do you feel about the weather there?” “Eh, its alright. A bit warm.”), and bidding a fond farewell to Kristina, I was under the impression that we would be returning home. Not so.
We proceeded to drive another hour or so south of the airport (which is already a bit south of Dar es Salaam’s city center), during which process I managed to convince myself that, “I guess I don’t really need my teeth after all”, so uneven were the roads. Finally, after turning off a “main” gravel/mud road onto a smaller road, we drove further into the bush, and finally stopped at an unmarked location.
It turns out we were visiting one of Babu’s shamba. 4 hours away from home. As it was near 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and we had had no lunch, I though we might be welcomed into a home for a small meal, but the only buildings in the vicinity were stick and mud huts. Babu conversed with a friendly man for about three minutes, and we turned around and continued on.
“Surely,” thought I, “We will now go home. For it is late in the afternoon and we have driven a long way.”
Surely, I was grossly mistaken.
We proceeded to drive even further south and then west, and visited an old friend of Babu’s, and a cousin of my late Bibi. The family resemblance was striking, and we were warmly welcomed. Luckily, for my petulant stomach, Bibi’s family are Nyakusa, and in the Nyakusa tribe, visitors are not to leave without eating. Babu explained this to me as we were brought dishes of fresh mango, baked chicken and poured glasses of pineapple juice.
“That’s my kind of tribe,” I sagely commented, happily munching on the crispy chicken.
We stayed for a bit, before finally making our way back north toward town. Because of the limited availability of roads, there are few options for choosing a route home. This meant that we had to plunge into “rush hour” traffic, which consisted of sitting on a village road amid the chaos of market day, immobile for about 45 minutes while cars, daladalas, and pikipikis jostled their way onto the main road. Did I mention there are no opening windows in the back of the van? And that I had a blanket of two affectionate children covering my lap? Rest assured, I was entirely comfortable.
After making it back to Posta, the city center of Dar es Salaam, around 5 or 6 pm, we paused for a moment near the shore so Raheli, Eja and I could jump out of the car and see the ocean. I don’t know if the kids had seen or been on the beach before, but they seemed to find the experience delightful, and talked about it the whole way home. We finally arrived back in Bunju at about 7:30, which of course, is just in time for tea.
Other than that, I am happy to report that we have successfully picked up our first batch of chicks! We ordered 350 (for full details of that excursion, please visit www.winona360.com), and were given 6 extra to insure us against any losses. Unfortunately, we have lost since chicks since their arrival here Tuesday morning, but we are hoping that the rest hold out well. I go to visit their warm little house several times a day, and Babu spends hours with them making sure mice do not interfere with their eating, drinking and well, living habits.
I am busy at work beginning to type up exams for the end of the term, as well as working on reorganizing the finances of Fanaka with Babu, Allen and Billo. This weekend, I am excited to be going to stay with my mama May in Kibaha, where she lives with Baba Polisi and their two kids, Atu and Andinda. I plan on getting fed well and not doing much else. May told me she’s going to teach me how to make her fried chicken “properly”. Let the lessons begin.
I hope everyone is well at home, and that college and school semesters are finishing up in a satisfactory manner. Congratulations to all of my friends who have graduated!!! (Ethan and Kathleen, especially, not to mention my beautiful sister Kate, who has been ready to leave college since her freshmen year.) I love and miss everyone, and hope to hear from you soon!
Eileen
I greet you as a solitary volunteer today, alone in this great, wide, semi-wilderness. I’m a loner, Dottie, a rebel.
In truth, I am not all that alone. My faithful partner in crime (or, what... “enacting positive change”? “Crime” has a much more rakish ring to it), Kristina departed for the motherland on Saturday, and I am glad she has arrived safely. Since her departure, I have become increasingly busy. Though it was nice to have a companion, I can’t say that I don’t enjoy solitude as well. Having a contemporary present affords one the luxury of communing with someone of like mind and similar cultural capital. Lacking that, one is forced to find different ways to keep one’s mind and sense of humor stimulated. So, naturally, I have begun working a lot more (and also reading Dickens... oh the depths to which we sink!) and have accomplished a great deal of work thus far.
Kristina, if you’re reading this, I’d have to say, you left on an opportune day. After a bumpy journey to the airport (and “bumpy” is putting it mildly; as one might say “warm” when visiting the sun’s surface; “Oh, how do you feel about the weather there?” “Eh, its alright. A bit warm.”), and bidding a fond farewell to Kristina, I was under the impression that we would be returning home. Not so.
We proceeded to drive another hour or so south of the airport (which is already a bit south of Dar es Salaam’s city center), during which process I managed to convince myself that, “I guess I don’t really need my teeth after all”, so uneven were the roads. Finally, after turning off a “main” gravel/mud road onto a smaller road, we drove further into the bush, and finally stopped at an unmarked location.
It turns out we were visiting one of Babu’s shamba. 4 hours away from home. As it was near 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and we had had no lunch, I though we might be welcomed into a home for a small meal, but the only buildings in the vicinity were stick and mud huts. Babu conversed with a friendly man for about three minutes, and we turned around and continued on.
“Surely,” thought I, “We will now go home. For it is late in the afternoon and we have driven a long way.”
Surely, I was grossly mistaken.
We proceeded to drive even further south and then west, and visited an old friend of Babu’s, and a cousin of my late Bibi. The family resemblance was striking, and we were warmly welcomed. Luckily, for my petulant stomach, Bibi’s family are Nyakusa, and in the Nyakusa tribe, visitors are not to leave without eating. Babu explained this to me as we were brought dishes of fresh mango, baked chicken and poured glasses of pineapple juice.
“That’s my kind of tribe,” I sagely commented, happily munching on the crispy chicken.
We stayed for a bit, before finally making our way back north toward town. Because of the limited availability of roads, there are few options for choosing a route home. This meant that we had to plunge into “rush hour” traffic, which consisted of sitting on a village road amid the chaos of market day, immobile for about 45 minutes while cars, daladalas, and pikipikis jostled their way onto the main road. Did I mention there are no opening windows in the back of the van? And that I had a blanket of two affectionate children covering my lap? Rest assured, I was entirely comfortable.
After making it back to Posta, the city center of Dar es Salaam, around 5 or 6 pm, we paused for a moment near the shore so Raheli, Eja and I could jump out of the car and see the ocean. I don’t know if the kids had seen or been on the beach before, but they seemed to find the experience delightful, and talked about it the whole way home. We finally arrived back in Bunju at about 7:30, which of course, is just in time for tea.
Other than that, I am happy to report that we have successfully picked up our first batch of chicks! We ordered 350 (for full details of that excursion, please visit www.winona360.com), and were given 6 extra to insure us against any losses. Unfortunately, we have lost since chicks since their arrival here Tuesday morning, but we are hoping that the rest hold out well. I go to visit their warm little house several times a day, and Babu spends hours with them making sure mice do not interfere with their eating, drinking and well, living habits.
I am busy at work beginning to type up exams for the end of the term, as well as working on reorganizing the finances of Fanaka with Babu, Allen and Billo. This weekend, I am excited to be going to stay with my mama May in Kibaha, where she lives with Baba Polisi and their two kids, Atu and Andinda. I plan on getting fed well and not doing much else. May told me she’s going to teach me how to make her fried chicken “properly”. Let the lessons begin.
I hope everyone is well at home, and that college and school semesters are finishing up in a satisfactory manner. Congratulations to all of my friends who have graduated!!! (Ethan and Kathleen, especially, not to mention my beautiful sister Kate, who has been ready to leave college since her freshmen year.) I love and miss everyone, and hope to hear from you soon!
Eileen
Friday, May 13
Farewell From Abroad!
Ahh the time has come my friends, for me to wish you farewell-at least from afar. By the time you read this I may be in my last day in Tanzania, or I may be somewhere across the Atlantic. Although before I go off on a tangent about how much this time has meant to me or whatever, let me tell you what has been going on here the past week.
As I said, I will be leaving in the next few days and so this obviously has meant a lot of last minute scrambling around for me. I have spent the past week going over my lessons from throughout the term so as to determine what I would have Eileen (who is taking over my English Form One class, in addition to her Form Two and Three classes, once I leave) teach my class. I have also been writing their terminal examination, which they will take in just three weeks. Planning a farewell dinner with the boarding students and purchasing last minute gifts have also been on menu this week. And of course I’ve been trying to accomplish these tasks intermittently while spending as much time as possible with the family and my students as my departure approaches. The realization that I am leaving with no idea of when I will be able to see them again has caused me to become somewhat panicky as of late.
In addition to all of these little, last minute projects I have also been Teacher on Duty (TOD) this week. You may recall when Eileen was TOD that it entails arriving earlier in the morning, and staying later in the afternoon, plus a lot of extra yelling at students. In reality it is not much different than how our other weeks have been spent at school, because truthfully Eileen and I act as TODs most days anyway. The difference this week is there is not another teacher (besides Eileen) who is supposed to be helping with this task. Although I am happy to report that Mr. Oswen, our history/civics teacher and Second Headmaster, has been fairly helpful this week as far as discipline is concerned and that has been very welcome since the students have been less than angelic this week. For a while I was confused about why they have been so rambunctious lately, until I realized that they have less than a month left of term. When I consider this I can easily understand their restlessness, although as a teacher it makes it no less frustrating! I must say that this experience has increased my respect and admiration for people who chose teaching as a career a hundred fold!
We were supposed to pick up our first batch of chickens for Raising a Future this week, but unfortunately that did not happen. Originally the plan was that Babu and Eileen would leave the house at 5:00A.M. on Tuesday morning so they could be at Kiboho (the company from which we purchased the chickens) when the chicks arrived from Moshi. Unfortunately, they set off about an hour late and this meant they hit morning traffic, so by the time they reached the local branch of Kiboho all the chicks had been purchased. Apparently African time does not apply when there are chickens involved! As a result, they will drag themselves out of bed at an even more ungodly hour next Tuesday and hope for a bit more luck and good timing in their venture. I am a bit disappointed because I was hoping to see our chicks before I left, but I also don’t have to wake up at 4:30A.M. to get them so I really should not complain.
Well that is about the gist of my past week. And although I would normally sign off right about now, I must apologize that I cannot do this yet because I must take a moment to do that final departure/farewell/thank you thing that comes along after such an adventure as this.
It is strange to look back and consider that I didn’t have any knowledge of this place or these people only three months ago. Like other volunteers, I have fallen into feeling as though these people are my second family and I can’t imagine not knowing them. I hope my time here has been at least a quarter as beneficial to them as it has been for me. This has truly been one of those experiences where I have been affected far more than have the people I came here to help. I am extremely grateful to my family here for taking me in and making me feel as though I am a welcome addition. I am especially grateful to my Babu, Eliezer Kahatano, who has treated me as a granddaughter from the moment he first greeted me, but has become even more wonderful with every passing day. Thank you also to Bibi. Although I was never fortunate enough to meet you, it was you who created this wonderful family and school that brought me here and has since accepted me so wholly. Without your influence I have no doubt I would not be sitting here today. Thank you to all of you who have followed and supported me, and TEP, through your reading of this blog. Fear not dear readers, for I am sure this is not the last you will hear of me! I plan to continue to work for the benefit of TEP upon my return to The States, so I believe you will hear about me, if not directly from me, on occasion. Thank you also to Cassie for laying a path for others to follow, this experience has been a fantastic one and I never would have gotten here had I not known you. Finally, an enormous thank you to my family for supporting me throughout everything I’ve done here and in my life. You are all wonderful. I suppose that is all this week. Stay tuned, as I certainly will, to hear about what Eileen battles for the next month! I look forward to seeing you all as I resume my life on the other side of the Atlantic!
Love,
Kristina
As I said, I will be leaving in the next few days and so this obviously has meant a lot of last minute scrambling around for me. I have spent the past week going over my lessons from throughout the term so as to determine what I would have Eileen (who is taking over my English Form One class, in addition to her Form Two and Three classes, once I leave) teach my class. I have also been writing their terminal examination, which they will take in just three weeks. Planning a farewell dinner with the boarding students and purchasing last minute gifts have also been on menu this week. And of course I’ve been trying to accomplish these tasks intermittently while spending as much time as possible with the family and my students as my departure approaches. The realization that I am leaving with no idea of when I will be able to see them again has caused me to become somewhat panicky as of late.
In addition to all of these little, last minute projects I have also been Teacher on Duty (TOD) this week. You may recall when Eileen was TOD that it entails arriving earlier in the morning, and staying later in the afternoon, plus a lot of extra yelling at students. In reality it is not much different than how our other weeks have been spent at school, because truthfully Eileen and I act as TODs most days anyway. The difference this week is there is not another teacher (besides Eileen) who is supposed to be helping with this task. Although I am happy to report that Mr. Oswen, our history/civics teacher and Second Headmaster, has been fairly helpful this week as far as discipline is concerned and that has been very welcome since the students have been less than angelic this week. For a while I was confused about why they have been so rambunctious lately, until I realized that they have less than a month left of term. When I consider this I can easily understand their restlessness, although as a teacher it makes it no less frustrating! I must say that this experience has increased my respect and admiration for people who chose teaching as a career a hundred fold!
We were supposed to pick up our first batch of chickens for Raising a Future this week, but unfortunately that did not happen. Originally the plan was that Babu and Eileen would leave the house at 5:00A.M. on Tuesday morning so they could be at Kiboho (the company from which we purchased the chickens) when the chicks arrived from Moshi. Unfortunately, they set off about an hour late and this meant they hit morning traffic, so by the time they reached the local branch of Kiboho all the chicks had been purchased. Apparently African time does not apply when there are chickens involved! As a result, they will drag themselves out of bed at an even more ungodly hour next Tuesday and hope for a bit more luck and good timing in their venture. I am a bit disappointed because I was hoping to see our chicks before I left, but I also don’t have to wake up at 4:30A.M. to get them so I really should not complain.
Well that is about the gist of my past week. And although I would normally sign off right about now, I must apologize that I cannot do this yet because I must take a moment to do that final departure/farewell/thank you thing that comes along after such an adventure as this.
It is strange to look back and consider that I didn’t have any knowledge of this place or these people only three months ago. Like other volunteers, I have fallen into feeling as though these people are my second family and I can’t imagine not knowing them. I hope my time here has been at least a quarter as beneficial to them as it has been for me. This has truly been one of those experiences where I have been affected far more than have the people I came here to help. I am extremely grateful to my family here for taking me in and making me feel as though I am a welcome addition. I am especially grateful to my Babu, Eliezer Kahatano, who has treated me as a granddaughter from the moment he first greeted me, but has become even more wonderful with every passing day. Thank you also to Bibi. Although I was never fortunate enough to meet you, it was you who created this wonderful family and school that brought me here and has since accepted me so wholly. Without your influence I have no doubt I would not be sitting here today. Thank you to all of you who have followed and supported me, and TEP, through your reading of this blog. Fear not dear readers, for I am sure this is not the last you will hear of me! I plan to continue to work for the benefit of TEP upon my return to The States, so I believe you will hear about me, if not directly from me, on occasion. Thank you also to Cassie for laying a path for others to follow, this experience has been a fantastic one and I never would have gotten here had I not known you. Finally, an enormous thank you to my family for supporting me throughout everything I’ve done here and in my life. You are all wonderful. I suppose that is all this week. Stay tuned, as I certainly will, to hear about what Eileen battles for the next month! I look forward to seeing you all as I resume my life on the other side of the Atlantic!
Love,
Kristina
Saturday, May 7
Mothers Love
Dearest friends and family of the Tanzanian Education Project,
How nice to see you once again. I hope you are well. I have come down with malaria again (second time in a year!), and my body has decided that even water is too “spicy” to retain for the past couple days. So it is from a supine position which I address you today. However, don’t fret about me, for today I have uncurled from a fetal position and plan to be back on my feet by tomorrow!
As far as events concerning the Tanzanian Education Project, and particularly Fanaka go, we are plugging along as usual. We have been busy implementing a survey to the students of Fanaka and the surrounding Bunju A area. The goal of the survey is to assess the education and health needs of the families of Bunju. This will also assist us in the grant writing process. While the process is quite tedious, especially when one needs a translator with the majority of the participants, the results are quite fascinating. We are learning a great deal about the structures of families around here, as well as getting an idea of demographics like family size, how many people live in one home, what businesses people are involved in, what religion is most prevalent, and how much the families have to eat and drink on a daily basis. We have been assisted by our friend Erenaus (or Iwe, as we Americans call him, which just means “you”, because we can’t handle the rolling “r”s), the patron of the boys’ dormitory.
Although Iwe has always been instrumental and helpful to volunteers of the Tanzanian Education Project, I would like to mention what a hard and dedicated employee of Fanaka he is. Though we frequently get frustrated with the teachers, students, and administrative staff of Fanaka, people like Iwe help to remind us why we have come to Tanzania and Fanaka in the first place. He is generous and considerate, and truly cares about the students. He is an avid student of history, and is studying hard so he can re-take his Form IV exams and eventually go back to school. However, he has told me that this will be very difficult as school fees are expensive and he sends the majority of his paychecks home to his family. I hope that he does find a way to complete Form V and VI because I think he would be a wonderful teacher, and Tanzania needs more like him!
On a completely unrelated note, this coming Sunday is Mothers’ Day, and I would like to especially dedicate this blog to mothers: the mothers who have adopted me here, the mothers at home, and particularly my mother. I know that if it were not for the encouragement and support of my mother (her name is Christine, she’s very tall and beautiful and teaches 6th grade), I would never have been able to come to Tanzania in the first place. She is of the wonderful breed of parents who wholeheartedly supports every new and unrealistic goal I propose to her, without the slightest hint of irony (usually). Though I do not bring home macaroni-art anymore, I still flash every passing thought under her gaze as if it were that Elmer’s-glue-and-construction-paper creation of my formative years, and without even blinking, she still accepts every crazy new idea without even a blink. Sometimes she even will put them on the refrigerator.
So when it came to becoming involved with the Tanzanian Education Project, and taking not one but two trips to East Africa, my mother never quailed. Though I know my safaris have at time caused her worry and fret (I’m sure the description of my most recent encounter with malaria will not allay her fears in the slightest), she nonetheless gives me her encouragement and support, laughs and my banal stories and horrid jokes, and saves an Easter basket for me for when I get home.
I would be lying to myself and you, O captive audience, if I feigned to act as if my being who I am in this wonderful place were the result of any of my own actions or bravery. I have a sense of humor because my mother fed me Mel Brooks and Monty Python as a child; I am adventurous because she let me try art lessons, piano lessons, ballet (that lasted only for two days), horseback riding (I KNOW, Cassie, I am that weird “horse girl”), and a multitude of other passing interests, always with the condition that I must stick with something for a while before giving up... well, except for ballet. I am responsible because she was fair and logical when it came to punishments and rewards, and because School Always Comes First. I work hard because I have watched her nurture and dedicate her life to countless other children who still stay in contact with her today. I am a good friend because I have watched her give of herself when it was not asked, bite her tongue when others irritated her, and always remembered that sometimes it is better to be happy than to be right. My Mommie is the reason I care so deeply for people on the other side of the world, and the reason why I know doing so is important.
So, this Mothers’ Day, I would like to thank my Mommie. Thanks for letting me be here, for letting me be crazy and for letting me drive you crazy, and for loving me even though I’ve eaten goats’ meat (and liked it). Nashukuru sana, sana, Mama yangu. Napenda wewe daima. (Many, many thanks, my mother. I love you always.)
Ok, well I hope that was a nice tear jerker and you’ve all had a good cry. My bowels are playing some sort of unsavory game of Tetris and can’t seem to get all the blocks to fit properly, so I think its about time to go. I hope everyone has a good Mothers’ Day, and don’t forget that mothers come in all forms, whether its your birth mother, or your mamas in Tanzania. They are all wonderful women. To sum up, I would like to relay a folk tale Babu told me the other day:
There was once a lion who wanted to prove he was the most powerful animal in the world. So he killed a wildebeest, and felt very strong. But then he saw the elephant, and saw that the elephant looked very big and very strong. The lion decided to fight the elephant, but because elephants are brave and strong and have think skins, the elephant won. The lion decided that the elephant must be the strongest animal in the world, so he must stay with the elephant for protection. For some time the lion and the elephant lived together, the lion always staying protected by the elephant. Then one day, a new creature approached. This creature walked on two legs, wore a fancy hat and carried a stick that spouted fire. This creature used his stick to kill the elephant. The lion decided that this new creature (for he was a human, as you may have guessed) must be the most powerful animal in the world. From then on, the lion decided, he would stick close to the man for protection, because surely the man who can kill and elephant is the strongest creature in the world. The lion followed the man until the man returned to his home. There, the lion witnessed the strangest thing. Upon arriving home, the man handed his stick of fire (which had made him so powerful) and his fancy hat to a woman. She took the stick and put it away, and hung up the man’s hat. Surely, thought the lion, the creature who can take these things so easily from a man who killed an elephant, surely she must be the most powerful animal in the world. From then on, until now, the lion and his descendants (for they have grown smaller in the passing years), always stay in the kitchen with the women. For truly, they are the most powerful creatures in the world.
Wasn’t that nice? Now, I think its time for a nap before I have to call Sigourney Weaver to tame whatever alien bursts out of my stomach. Cheerio!
xoxoxox,
Eileen
How nice to see you once again. I hope you are well. I have come down with malaria again (second time in a year!), and my body has decided that even water is too “spicy” to retain for the past couple days. So it is from a supine position which I address you today. However, don’t fret about me, for today I have uncurled from a fetal position and plan to be back on my feet by tomorrow!
As far as events concerning the Tanzanian Education Project, and particularly Fanaka go, we are plugging along as usual. We have been busy implementing a survey to the students of Fanaka and the surrounding Bunju A area. The goal of the survey is to assess the education and health needs of the families of Bunju. This will also assist us in the grant writing process. While the process is quite tedious, especially when one needs a translator with the majority of the participants, the results are quite fascinating. We are learning a great deal about the structures of families around here, as well as getting an idea of demographics like family size, how many people live in one home, what businesses people are involved in, what religion is most prevalent, and how much the families have to eat and drink on a daily basis. We have been assisted by our friend Erenaus (or Iwe, as we Americans call him, which just means “you”, because we can’t handle the rolling “r”s), the patron of the boys’ dormitory.
Although Iwe has always been instrumental and helpful to volunteers of the Tanzanian Education Project, I would like to mention what a hard and dedicated employee of Fanaka he is. Though we frequently get frustrated with the teachers, students, and administrative staff of Fanaka, people like Iwe help to remind us why we have come to Tanzania and Fanaka in the first place. He is generous and considerate, and truly cares about the students. He is an avid student of history, and is studying hard so he can re-take his Form IV exams and eventually go back to school. However, he has told me that this will be very difficult as school fees are expensive and he sends the majority of his paychecks home to his family. I hope that he does find a way to complete Form V and VI because I think he would be a wonderful teacher, and Tanzania needs more like him!
On a completely unrelated note, this coming Sunday is Mothers’ Day, and I would like to especially dedicate this blog to mothers: the mothers who have adopted me here, the mothers at home, and particularly my mother. I know that if it were not for the encouragement and support of my mother (her name is Christine, she’s very tall and beautiful and teaches 6th grade), I would never have been able to come to Tanzania in the first place. She is of the wonderful breed of parents who wholeheartedly supports every new and unrealistic goal I propose to her, without the slightest hint of irony (usually). Though I do not bring home macaroni-art anymore, I still flash every passing thought under her gaze as if it were that Elmer’s-glue-and-construction-paper creation of my formative years, and without even blinking, she still accepts every crazy new idea without even a blink. Sometimes she even will put them on the refrigerator.
So when it came to becoming involved with the Tanzanian Education Project, and taking not one but two trips to East Africa, my mother never quailed. Though I know my safaris have at time caused her worry and fret (I’m sure the description of my most recent encounter with malaria will not allay her fears in the slightest), she nonetheless gives me her encouragement and support, laughs and my banal stories and horrid jokes, and saves an Easter basket for me for when I get home.
I would be lying to myself and you, O captive audience, if I feigned to act as if my being who I am in this wonderful place were the result of any of my own actions or bravery. I have a sense of humor because my mother fed me Mel Brooks and Monty Python as a child; I am adventurous because she let me try art lessons, piano lessons, ballet (that lasted only for two days), horseback riding (I KNOW, Cassie, I am that weird “horse girl”), and a multitude of other passing interests, always with the condition that I must stick with something for a while before giving up... well, except for ballet. I am responsible because she was fair and logical when it came to punishments and rewards, and because School Always Comes First. I work hard because I have watched her nurture and dedicate her life to countless other children who still stay in contact with her today. I am a good friend because I have watched her give of herself when it was not asked, bite her tongue when others irritated her, and always remembered that sometimes it is better to be happy than to be right. My Mommie is the reason I care so deeply for people on the other side of the world, and the reason why I know doing so is important.
So, this Mothers’ Day, I would like to thank my Mommie. Thanks for letting me be here, for letting me be crazy and for letting me drive you crazy, and for loving me even though I’ve eaten goats’ meat (and liked it). Nashukuru sana, sana, Mama yangu. Napenda wewe daima. (Many, many thanks, my mother. I love you always.)
Ok, well I hope that was a nice tear jerker and you’ve all had a good cry. My bowels are playing some sort of unsavory game of Tetris and can’t seem to get all the blocks to fit properly, so I think its about time to go. I hope everyone has a good Mothers’ Day, and don’t forget that mothers come in all forms, whether its your birth mother, or your mamas in Tanzania. They are all wonderful women. To sum up, I would like to relay a folk tale Babu told me the other day:
There was once a lion who wanted to prove he was the most powerful animal in the world. So he killed a wildebeest, and felt very strong. But then he saw the elephant, and saw that the elephant looked very big and very strong. The lion decided to fight the elephant, but because elephants are brave and strong and have think skins, the elephant won. The lion decided that the elephant must be the strongest animal in the world, so he must stay with the elephant for protection. For some time the lion and the elephant lived together, the lion always staying protected by the elephant. Then one day, a new creature approached. This creature walked on two legs, wore a fancy hat and carried a stick that spouted fire. This creature used his stick to kill the elephant. The lion decided that this new creature (for he was a human, as you may have guessed) must be the most powerful animal in the world. From then on, the lion decided, he would stick close to the man for protection, because surely the man who can kill and elephant is the strongest creature in the world. The lion followed the man until the man returned to his home. There, the lion witnessed the strangest thing. Upon arriving home, the man handed his stick of fire (which had made him so powerful) and his fancy hat to a woman. She took the stick and put it away, and hung up the man’s hat. Surely, thought the lion, the creature who can take these things so easily from a man who killed an elephant, surely she must be the most powerful animal in the world. From then on, until now, the lion and his descendants (for they have grown smaller in the passing years), always stay in the kitchen with the women. For truly, they are the most powerful creatures in the world.
Wasn’t that nice? Now, I think its time for a nap before I have to call Sigourney Weaver to tame whatever alien bursts out of my stomach. Cheerio!
xoxoxox,
Eileen
Sunday, May 1
School May Be Out, But My Education Continues
Hello All! Yet another week has passed in my Tanzanian adventure and as far as school is concerned, this past week has been a bit on the slow side. In observance of the Easter holiday, Fanaka closed down for a small holiday beginning last Friday (Good Friday) and extending through Tuesday of this week. To many people it may seem that five days is a bit long, however in Tanzania, Easter Monday is viewed as a very important day in which one recuperates after the festivities of Easter Sunday, and when one accomplishes the work that was put off the day before (and yes this apparently includes the weekly church service as well). So, that is the point of Easter Monday. The fact that Tuesday was also a holiday was a mere coincidence. Union Day (in reference to the union of Zanzibar and Tanganyika, not labor unions) is a public holiday celebrated on the 25th of April, so it just happened to fall after the Easter holiday extending the break to five days. So in the time since our last update, there has only been one day of school, and of course that day was your basic chaos.
After the complete insanity that was the return from midterm holiday, Eileen and I arrived at school on Wednesday morning with very low expectations regarding student attendance. This assumption proved to be very much accurate, as I had only ten out of my twenty-five Form One students in class, and the rest of the forms had an equally poor showing. Of course, the number of teachers who attended school was similarly horrifying and resulted in those of us who were present to scramble throughout the day, creating new lessons and teaching extra periods, so as to avoid having each form sit around for the four or five free periods they acquired that day. Needless to say, it was a less than productive day. Thursday’s attendance was an improvement on Wednesday; however, there were still many faces missing from morning assembly.
While our time with the students was very limited this past week, there was still progress for TEP. Over the weekend we were surprised to receive a new batch of baby chicks as the next group of broilers for Eve and Billo. Although this wasn’t as excited as it would be had we received the delivery of Fanaka’s chicks, we are still eager to observe the entire process of raising a group of broiler chickens from the very beginning. It will not be long until we do have our group, as Babu reserved our 300 chicks for Raising a Future and we expect their delivery sometime next week!
The Easter holiday also brought with it the return of a familiar face. Jonathan (an old Fanaka teacher and the official manager of the stationary) has returned to Bunju for a week-long holiday from his government teaching post in Mtwara. With his return, we have finally been able to get some long awaited information regarding the precise financial situation of the stationary, specifically how successful it has been in monetary contributions to Fanaka each month. For those more recent readers, the stationary was a very important TEP project last year. At the time, Fanaka was suffering from the high cost of printing at other shops. It was decided that opening a stationary would be an effective way to cut down the school’s operation costs in printing, and it would also become a much needed reliable income to Fanaka, as the local Bunju community had a high demand for such a shop as well. The financial support brought gained from stationary revenue helps to supplement administrative costs at Fanaka, and eventually reduces the school fees for the students. Through the tireless work of volunteers and supporters, TEP was able to give financial assistance to Fanaka to rent, stock, and open a fully operational stationary shop during the time Cassie, Eileen and Teresa were in Tanzania last summer.
Aside from these developments, I was educated this week with some more Tanzanian firsts. I had my first large family holiday (Easter) which was marked by an extra long church service, more the comfort and noise brought on by the presence of extended family coming to visit, and delicious food saved for special occasions! Mae and Baba Polici came over to Babu’s house and brought along their children (Atu and Andinda) so everything was bigger and louder than it normally is, and Mae fried up a lot of chicken (yuuuuuum!!!) that I was able to help with. She also made pili pili (a sort of hot pepper mixture/sauce/paste) which is very hot but very tasty and I have been slowly eating my way through this past week! I also finally got to try kitimoto (aka pork), which I have heard about anytime the students ask me about the food I’ve tried. It was very good but prepared differently than any way I’ve ever eaten pork. The students all practically squealed with delight (no pun intended) when I could tell them that I’d finally eaten kitimoto.
I had another first experience on Tuesday, when Eileen and I went into Dar es Salaam with Mae to do a bit of shopping. The area of Dar we visited is called Kariakoo, and it is a very busy part of Dar. There are many different shops and people all over the place working as venders and trying to sell fruits, vegetables, jewelry, clothing, shoes, and basically anything else you could hope to find. It was during our stroll through Katiakoo when I received a bit more education. We were walking along and a man cut between Eileen and myself, knocking me forward and simultaneously “marking” Eileen as he bumped into her. In response to this, another man quickly tried to pickpocket Eileen! Luckily she was on her game and knew to check her pockets just after the first man ran into her, which meant that she and the would-be pickpocketer reached for her pockets at the same time! I turned around just in time to see this exchange take place, and to witness Eileen’s well placed knock back into the man. I am happy to report he got away with nothing more than a sore stomach.
After this week, my Tanzanian education is greater than ever, and so I am back in school trying to balance it by cramming a bit more English language education into the brains of my students. They will be taking their monthly English exam today after classes, so I will see if they have managed to retain anything I have taught them since their midterm break. I try to remain optimistic. Other than that, there is not much else to update you on this week. I hear that spring is finally arriving in the Midwest, as late and anticipated as ever! I hope everyone back home is enjoying the slowly approaching spring and having a good week. I can hardly believe how soon I will be among you-time flies. Until next time, eat some bacon and keep an eye on your pockets! Check ya later!
After the complete insanity that was the return from midterm holiday, Eileen and I arrived at school on Wednesday morning with very low expectations regarding student attendance. This assumption proved to be very much accurate, as I had only ten out of my twenty-five Form One students in class, and the rest of the forms had an equally poor showing. Of course, the number of teachers who attended school was similarly horrifying and resulted in those of us who were present to scramble throughout the day, creating new lessons and teaching extra periods, so as to avoid having each form sit around for the four or five free periods they acquired that day. Needless to say, it was a less than productive day. Thursday’s attendance was an improvement on Wednesday; however, there were still many faces missing from morning assembly.
While our time with the students was very limited this past week, there was still progress for TEP. Over the weekend we were surprised to receive a new batch of baby chicks as the next group of broilers for Eve and Billo. Although this wasn’t as excited as it would be had we received the delivery of Fanaka’s chicks, we are still eager to observe the entire process of raising a group of broiler chickens from the very beginning. It will not be long until we do have our group, as Babu reserved our 300 chicks for Raising a Future and we expect their delivery sometime next week!
The Easter holiday also brought with it the return of a familiar face. Jonathan (an old Fanaka teacher and the official manager of the stationary) has returned to Bunju for a week-long holiday from his government teaching post in Mtwara. With his return, we have finally been able to get some long awaited information regarding the precise financial situation of the stationary, specifically how successful it has been in monetary contributions to Fanaka each month. For those more recent readers, the stationary was a very important TEP project last year. At the time, Fanaka was suffering from the high cost of printing at other shops. It was decided that opening a stationary would be an effective way to cut down the school’s operation costs in printing, and it would also become a much needed reliable income to Fanaka, as the local Bunju community had a high demand for such a shop as well. The financial support brought gained from stationary revenue helps to supplement administrative costs at Fanaka, and eventually reduces the school fees for the students. Through the tireless work of volunteers and supporters, TEP was able to give financial assistance to Fanaka to rent, stock, and open a fully operational stationary shop during the time Cassie, Eileen and Teresa were in Tanzania last summer.
Aside from these developments, I was educated this week with some more Tanzanian firsts. I had my first large family holiday (Easter) which was marked by an extra long church service, more the comfort and noise brought on by the presence of extended family coming to visit, and delicious food saved for special occasions! Mae and Baba Polici came over to Babu’s house and brought along their children (Atu and Andinda) so everything was bigger and louder than it normally is, and Mae fried up a lot of chicken (yuuuuuum!!!) that I was able to help with. She also made pili pili (a sort of hot pepper mixture/sauce/paste) which is very hot but very tasty and I have been slowly eating my way through this past week! I also finally got to try kitimoto (aka pork), which I have heard about anytime the students ask me about the food I’ve tried. It was very good but prepared differently than any way I’ve ever eaten pork. The students all practically squealed with delight (no pun intended) when I could tell them that I’d finally eaten kitimoto.
I had another first experience on Tuesday, when Eileen and I went into Dar es Salaam with Mae to do a bit of shopping. The area of Dar we visited is called Kariakoo, and it is a very busy part of Dar. There are many different shops and people all over the place working as venders and trying to sell fruits, vegetables, jewelry, clothing, shoes, and basically anything else you could hope to find. It was during our stroll through Katiakoo when I received a bit more education. We were walking along and a man cut between Eileen and myself, knocking me forward and simultaneously “marking” Eileen as he bumped into her. In response to this, another man quickly tried to pickpocket Eileen! Luckily she was on her game and knew to check her pockets just after the first man ran into her, which meant that she and the would-be pickpocketer reached for her pockets at the same time! I turned around just in time to see this exchange take place, and to witness Eileen’s well placed knock back into the man. I am happy to report he got away with nothing more than a sore stomach.
After this week, my Tanzanian education is greater than ever, and so I am back in school trying to balance it by cramming a bit more English language education into the brains of my students. They will be taking their monthly English exam today after classes, so I will see if they have managed to retain anything I have taught them since their midterm break. I try to remain optimistic. Other than that, there is not much else to update you on this week. I hear that spring is finally arriving in the Midwest, as late and anticipated as ever! I hope everyone back home is enjoying the slowly approaching spring and having a good week. I can hardly believe how soon I will be among you-time flies. Until next time, eat some bacon and keep an eye on your pockets! Check ya later!
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