Peace and Season's Greetings to All
I can't believe it's Christmastime! That seems so bizarre right now. I think we are getting a turkey to cook on the charcoal stove.
We have been having an in-service training this week. I returned to my village with a friend who lives in Njombe, because we had a free day on Sunday. It was really cool getting to show him my village. Plus he is one of the most hilarious people I've met in my life. I got a chance to work on my farm a tiny bit, but it was the Sabbath and my farm is right on the road, so I got lectured by several people passing by that I shouldn't be working. I really wanted to get a little bit of a start though, and won't be back in my village for a long time, so I felt it was necessary.
My corn is healthy, my garbanzos and beans are growing, the Chinese cabbage is up but being ravaged by something, half of my peas were eaten, half survived, and the tomatoes, carrots, lettuce, onions, basil, mint, beets and eggplant have yet to come up. We'll see. I plan to plant pumpkin seeds, potatoes, peas and beans on my farm.
The major thing that came out of training was a rough plan to buy seedlings and plant them in January. I'm still working out the details with my village executive officer. The training was fun, and it was good to work on planning a project.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Permaculture, Rain (Hooray!!) and the Answer to the Rooster Question
I had 3 days packed full of permaculture fun. The first day, we went to one of the subvillages and 80 people showed up for the meeting. It went pretty well. Then in another subvillage we showed up and nobody was there, so we moved the meeting to the kilabu, which is a cluster of buildings where the local brew is sold. People showed up expecting to while away the afternoon and maybe get a bit tipsy, but we sat them down and started the class. There were 15 people, and I have to say it was probably the best of all our sessions so far. The next day we had invited tons of people from all kinds of clubs, but only 6 showed up. But they were a jolly group of elders, very excited about the seminar. My counterpart had to translate everything into Kihehe though.
Here's the good news: it's the rainy season!!! Such a relief. It has been raining for about a week now. It rains for a couple of hours each day usually. And when it rains it pours. The first day it rained I stood in my enclosed courtyard under the roof and took a shower!
The downside to this is that I felt a panic to get my garden planted. I set about permaculturing the entire thing, which involves double-digging all the beds and digging swales and ditches, and the clincher is that I don't have a shovel, just a hoe. But I think it is important that I used only a hoe, because that is the only implement at most of the villagers' disposal. I didn't realize how big my garden was until I began this formidable task. It was probably one of the more difficult physical accomplishments I have undertaken in my life. I didn't have any compost, but I will get some. I have planted carrots, lettuce, eggplant, beets, kale, peas, a few potatoes, garbanzo, corn, beans, basil, mint, and tomatoes. We'll see what works. Some of the seeds are a little iffy.
Oh yeah, and finally in answer to the question posed in my first blog entry, roosters say "Kokolikoo".
I had 3 days packed full of permaculture fun. The first day, we went to one of the subvillages and 80 people showed up for the meeting. It went pretty well. Then in another subvillage we showed up and nobody was there, so we moved the meeting to the kilabu, which is a cluster of buildings where the local brew is sold. People showed up expecting to while away the afternoon and maybe get a bit tipsy, but we sat them down and started the class. There were 15 people, and I have to say it was probably the best of all our sessions so far. The next day we had invited tons of people from all kinds of clubs, but only 6 showed up. But they were a jolly group of elders, very excited about the seminar. My counterpart had to translate everything into Kihehe though.
Here's the good news: it's the rainy season!!! Such a relief. It has been raining for about a week now. It rains for a couple of hours each day usually. And when it rains it pours. The first day it rained I stood in my enclosed courtyard under the roof and took a shower!
The downside to this is that I felt a panic to get my garden planted. I set about permaculturing the entire thing, which involves double-digging all the beds and digging swales and ditches, and the clincher is that I don't have a shovel, just a hoe. But I think it is important that I used only a hoe, because that is the only implement at most of the villagers' disposal. I didn't realize how big my garden was until I began this formidable task. It was probably one of the more difficult physical accomplishments I have undertaken in my life. I didn't have any compost, but I will get some. I have planted carrots, lettuce, eggplant, beets, kale, peas, a few potatoes, garbanzo, corn, beans, basil, mint, and tomatoes. We'll see what works. Some of the seeds are a little iffy.
Oh yeah, and finally in answer to the question posed in my first blog entry, roosters say "Kokolikoo".
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Friday, November 24, 2006
A Wedding and a Funeral
I went with my neighbor to a wedding in Iringa, and it was pretty normal: you know - started a fight, had more relation to Kevin Bacon than to the bride or groom, toured around the city in a daladala (microbus) crammed full of people singing send-off songs in Swahili, when arriving at the church could not identify the bride or groom whose wedding I had been invited to, and was amazed at how bored and unhappy the bride and groomed managed to appear throughout the wedding and the reception.
There were about 150 invited guests at the wedding, and we were hanging out in the bride's mother's courtyard for a good chunk of the day, preparing food, getting fed, chatting, dancing, drinking the local brew and the like. That was pretty normal. Somehow though, some drunk and crazy people made their way in, and two of them were quite obsessed with the fact that there was a mzungu (Caucasian) there, and decided it would be necessary to push through some people to try to touch me. They jostled a friend of mine and she jostled back and one of these crazy people punched her in the head. Luckily that was all that it came to, and they were quickly kicked out.
Apparently I was there because my friend's husband is the groom's brother-in-law. Nobody seemed to mind though.
The reason I couldn't identify the couple was because there were two couples getting married at the same time (to save the priest’s time?).
The daladala ride was pretty normal for Tanzania, and actually incredibly fun.
The reason the couple looked so unhappy is because I guess there are some rules to weddings here. They are supposed to act like it is the most painful torture they must endure. Hopefully they were happy on the inside. We were happy-- there was good food and music and dancing.
I slept in the bride's mom's house, and I think maybe in the bride's mom's bed, which she insisted on while she slept on the floor. I was too tired to protest at the time. All-in-all it was a pretty good time and I made some friends.
Also, my neighbor died and I went to his family's house. It is tradition for people to arrive on the day of the funeral, and walk in a big procession with the coffin to the burial site, and then return to the house where they sit around cooking, eating, drinking, crying and accepting donations all day long. I went over after the funeral was done because I had to teach in the morning. I was glad to be a little late because the crying had stopped and been replaced by drinking, and they were very glad to receive me and ask me some questions about America and the like. I arrived and gave my condolences to everyone, gave my donation, and sat with the women awhile.
I went with my neighbor to a wedding in Iringa, and it was pretty normal: you know - started a fight, had more relation to Kevin Bacon than to the bride or groom, toured around the city in a daladala (microbus) crammed full of people singing send-off songs in Swahili, when arriving at the church could not identify the bride or groom whose wedding I had been invited to, and was amazed at how bored and unhappy the bride and groomed managed to appear throughout the wedding and the reception.
There were about 150 invited guests at the wedding, and we were hanging out in the bride's mother's courtyard for a good chunk of the day, preparing food, getting fed, chatting, dancing, drinking the local brew and the like. That was pretty normal. Somehow though, some drunk and crazy people made their way in, and two of them were quite obsessed with the fact that there was a mzungu (Caucasian) there, and decided it would be necessary to push through some people to try to touch me. They jostled a friend of mine and she jostled back and one of these crazy people punched her in the head. Luckily that was all that it came to, and they were quickly kicked out.
Apparently I was there because my friend's husband is the groom's brother-in-law. Nobody seemed to mind though.
The reason I couldn't identify the couple was because there were two couples getting married at the same time (to save the priest’s time?).
The daladala ride was pretty normal for Tanzania, and actually incredibly fun.
The reason the couple looked so unhappy is because I guess there are some rules to weddings here. They are supposed to act like it is the most painful torture they must endure. Hopefully they were happy on the inside. We were happy-- there was good food and music and dancing.
I slept in the bride's mom's house, and I think maybe in the bride's mom's bed, which she insisted on while she slept on the floor. I was too tired to protest at the time. All-in-all it was a pretty good time and I made some friends.
Also, my neighbor died and I went to his family's house. It is tradition for people to arrive on the day of the funeral, and walk in a big procession with the coffin to the burial site, and then return to the house where they sit around cooking, eating, drinking, crying and accepting donations all day long. I went over after the funeral was done because I had to teach in the morning. I was glad to be a little late because the crying had stopped and been replaced by drinking, and they were very glad to receive me and ask me some questions about America and the like. I arrived and gave my condolences to everyone, gave my donation, and sat with the women awhile.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
A Day in My Village
I have been asked to describe a typical day in my village. There haven't been any typical days; every day is different. I wouldn't say I have a routine, so let me just tell you what I did one day, and wouldn't be surprised if it happened again.
I got up around 6:00am, and cleaned the house a bit. After cooking and feasting on rice with powdered milk and sugar, I hopped on my bike to go to the one remaining water pump that still works in the village. The water flowed so slowly that I was there for an hour, 40 minutes of which was waiting for my 20-liter bucket to fill. Some kids arrived, and of course were very shy. One started drumming on his empty water buckets, so I joined in, and soon we had a small band going. After returning to my house, I bathed quickly in about 2 gallons of water, and then headed to the mission, where I had been invited to see the monthly clinic, where all the kids under 5 years old are taken to be weighed. It was jam-packed with mothers and bawling babies and toddlers running around poking each other. They put me to work recording the health status of the kids, which apparently you can tell just by their age and weight. They are given a color-code which corresponds to their health. To weigh the kids they stuff them into over-sized underwear and hang them from a scale like the ones at the produce section of the grocery store, but it has a hook to hang the underwear on. After all the kids are weighed, there is usually a nutrition session where the mothers are instructed on how to make nutritious baby-food. The nurse then gives shots to all the kids who need vaccinations (polio, measles, diptheria, etc.). It runs pretty smoothly considering the number of babies and little kids all crammed into such a little space.
After this I went home and felt too lazy to cook, so I went to my passion-fruit vine in the backyard and made a lunch out of a few of the fruits. I was waiting for a woman who used to be the chairperson of a mama's group in the village, which was disbanded after the departure of my predecessor. I want to start the group again, but I don't want it to by MY mama's group, so I am working with her to get it going again with as little input from me as possible. I want them to get the idea that I will help them but will not run the group. We were supposed to meet with the village executive officer about getting all the mamas together for a meeting, but there was a death in the village, so he was out. This is very common- meetings and important dates are often put off because of deaths in the village, as graves must be dug, and other arrangements made.
In the afternoon I holed up in my house for a while to paint, then went out to visit neighbors and teachers. I returned home to translate a session on AIDS from English to Swahili, as I said I would do for the chairperson of the AIDS education club. The story on the AIDS club parallels that of the mamas' group-- after the previous Peace Corpse left it no longer met. Now I have met with the chairperson to advise and motivate him to get the group going again with as little involvement from me as possible.
On my rounds in the village I met a woman selling bread, which is akin to finding clementine oranges in the grocery store for the first time around Christmas-time. I was excited, and bought up the remaining 4 rolls she had. I ate these for late-afternoon snack. I usually eat a little better than this, and intended to cook up some Chinese cabbage I bought, but I had a lazy food day.
By 7:00 pm you need a lamp to see anything, so I usually water my "garden" (which right now is only 2 small beds) before this. Realizing I didn't want to waste any of my clean water on the garden, I went down the hill to haul water from a ditch where the water is dirty, but I don't have to wait in line. I hauled it back up to my house, and decided that it was too late to go for a run, and I had gotten a bit of exercise anyway. I read and painted by candlelight until 9 or 9:30, when I went to sleep.
A typical day usually consists of me running around the village chasing people down and setting up meetings and then going to those meetings and then waiting for hours for those meetings to start. Now I have the work of translating AIDS sessions and planning of permaculture sessions. I don't feel like staying in my house all the time, and of course there is no library where I can study, so I was thinking of trying to use the teachers' office as a less solitary workplace. Yesterday was atypical only in that I got away with very little cooking, didn't wash any clothes, and I didn't have very many visitors at the house.
I hope that was at least a little informative!
I have been asked to describe a typical day in my village. There haven't been any typical days; every day is different. I wouldn't say I have a routine, so let me just tell you what I did one day, and wouldn't be surprised if it happened again.
I got up around 6:00am, and cleaned the house a bit. After cooking and feasting on rice with powdered milk and sugar, I hopped on my bike to go to the one remaining water pump that still works in the village. The water flowed so slowly that I was there for an hour, 40 minutes of which was waiting for my 20-liter bucket to fill. Some kids arrived, and of course were very shy. One started drumming on his empty water buckets, so I joined in, and soon we had a small band going. After returning to my house, I bathed quickly in about 2 gallons of water, and then headed to the mission, where I had been invited to see the monthly clinic, where all the kids under 5 years old are taken to be weighed. It was jam-packed with mothers and bawling babies and toddlers running around poking each other. They put me to work recording the health status of the kids, which apparently you can tell just by their age and weight. They are given a color-code which corresponds to their health. To weigh the kids they stuff them into over-sized underwear and hang them from a scale like the ones at the produce section of the grocery store, but it has a hook to hang the underwear on. After all the kids are weighed, there is usually a nutrition session where the mothers are instructed on how to make nutritious baby-food. The nurse then gives shots to all the kids who need vaccinations (polio, measles, diptheria, etc.). It runs pretty smoothly considering the number of babies and little kids all crammed into such a little space.
After this I went home and felt too lazy to cook, so I went to my passion-fruit vine in the backyard and made a lunch out of a few of the fruits. I was waiting for a woman who used to be the chairperson of a mama's group in the village, which was disbanded after the departure of my predecessor. I want to start the group again, but I don't want it to by MY mama's group, so I am working with her to get it going again with as little input from me as possible. I want them to get the idea that I will help them but will not run the group. We were supposed to meet with the village executive officer about getting all the mamas together for a meeting, but there was a death in the village, so he was out. This is very common- meetings and important dates are often put off because of deaths in the village, as graves must be dug, and other arrangements made.
In the afternoon I holed up in my house for a while to paint, then went out to visit neighbors and teachers. I returned home to translate a session on AIDS from English to Swahili, as I said I would do for the chairperson of the AIDS education club. The story on the AIDS club parallels that of the mamas' group-- after the previous Peace Corpse left it no longer met. Now I have met with the chairperson to advise and motivate him to get the group going again with as little involvement from me as possible.
On my rounds in the village I met a woman selling bread, which is akin to finding clementine oranges in the grocery store for the first time around Christmas-time. I was excited, and bought up the remaining 4 rolls she had. I ate these for late-afternoon snack. I usually eat a little better than this, and intended to cook up some Chinese cabbage I bought, but I had a lazy food day.
By 7:00 pm you need a lamp to see anything, so I usually water my "garden" (which right now is only 2 small beds) before this. Realizing I didn't want to waste any of my clean water on the garden, I went down the hill to haul water from a ditch where the water is dirty, but I don't have to wait in line. I hauled it back up to my house, and decided that it was too late to go for a run, and I had gotten a bit of exercise anyway. I read and painted by candlelight until 9 or 9:30, when I went to sleep.
A typical day usually consists of me running around the village chasing people down and setting up meetings and then going to those meetings and then waiting for hours for those meetings to start. Now I have the work of translating AIDS sessions and planning of permaculture sessions. I don't feel like staying in my house all the time, and of course there is no library where I can study, so I was thinking of trying to use the teachers' office as a less solitary workplace. Yesterday was atypical only in that I got away with very little cooking, didn't wash any clothes, and I didn't have very many visitors at the house.
I hope that was at least a little informative!
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Up a Hill - and Down
I just spent several days at meetings in the town of Morogoro. We got a free day off, because they changed the schedule of the monitoring and reporting seminar, so we decided to climb one of the beautiful Morogoro mountains. We knew that people often get robbed when they climb, so we decided to play it safe and take a large number of people and pay for 2 experienced guides. It was absolutely gorgeous; a mix of natural acacia forest and cultivated land; land that was so steep you wonder how you could possibly hold a hoe over your head and not fall off. There were plantations of everything from cabbage and carrot to bananas and even peaches. There was a beautiful waterfall that we stopped at to rinse the sweat off our faces. We climbed for about 6 hours, in one of the harder hikes of my life. It was very hot and humid and quite steep in some places. Possible more amazingly, at the top, after winding our way up steep switchbacks of a narrow but well-travelled path, we arrived at a cellphone tower, where a few of the tower guards were hanging out. I guess the climb was probably no big deal for them because there were sodas and water they had hauled up the mountain and maybe were selling, and there was a loud generator going so maybe they hauled the gas for it up the hill as well.
I have to say that the hike down was much harder, and today I'm feeling pretty wrecked.
I just spent several days at meetings in the town of Morogoro. We got a free day off, because they changed the schedule of the monitoring and reporting seminar, so we decided to climb one of the beautiful Morogoro mountains. We knew that people often get robbed when they climb, so we decided to play it safe and take a large number of people and pay for 2 experienced guides. It was absolutely gorgeous; a mix of natural acacia forest and cultivated land; land that was so steep you wonder how you could possibly hold a hoe over your head and not fall off. There were plantations of everything from cabbage and carrot to bananas and even peaches. There was a beautiful waterfall that we stopped at to rinse the sweat off our faces. We climbed for about 6 hours, in one of the harder hikes of my life. It was very hot and humid and quite steep in some places. Possible more amazingly, at the top, after winding our way up steep switchbacks of a narrow but well-travelled path, we arrived at a cellphone tower, where a few of the tower guards were hanging out. I guess the climb was probably no big deal for them because there were sodas and water they had hauled up the mountain and maybe were selling, and there was a loud generator going so maybe they hauled the gas for it up the hill as well.
I have to say that the hike down was much harder, and today I'm feeling pretty wrecked.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Ants, Gardens & Wedding Cakes
This has been an exciting week, starting from the biting safari ants that took up residence in my house, to a successful permaculture seminar, to baking a wedding cake.
I woke up one morning before dawn and stumbled out to my bathroom, where I was greeted with a pinching sensation as I sat. Upon my return with a candle it was clear I had an infestation of the bathroom and living room. I went on a killing rampage, and decided after my morning teaching I would seek advice from villagers on how to rid myself of the beasts. They suggested everything from diesel oil to smelly plants, and I settled on a tactic of kerosene and charcoal ash. I was informed by one villager that the ants could crawl into my nose and kill me, so needless to say I didn't sleep well that night. But they didn't return. They are still in my garden, and have invaded my bathroom once, but I drove them off. Once in a while I find one in my room which makes me nervous. They have now moved on to pester my neighbors, who are having a terrible time getting rid of them. If you're having second thoughts about visiting me, don't worry, they're really not that bad.
The permaculture seminar was good-- we started in the classroom and then went to my garden for the practical part. People seemed bored but everytime I thought we were losing their interest they would ask very good questions.
Today there is a wedding in the village. I was invited to help the village nurse make a cake, and we failed miserably the first time, burning the thing black. So I tried again on my own, and the thing didn't rise at all, so it is a small, dense, sweet loaf. I'm too embarrassed to show my face at the wedding, and hopefully they won't know it was me who made the cake!
This has been an exciting week, starting from the biting safari ants that took up residence in my house, to a successful permaculture seminar, to baking a wedding cake.
I woke up one morning before dawn and stumbled out to my bathroom, where I was greeted with a pinching sensation as I sat. Upon my return with a candle it was clear I had an infestation of the bathroom and living room. I went on a killing rampage, and decided after my morning teaching I would seek advice from villagers on how to rid myself of the beasts. They suggested everything from diesel oil to smelly plants, and I settled on a tactic of kerosene and charcoal ash. I was informed by one villager that the ants could crawl into my nose and kill me, so needless to say I didn't sleep well that night. But they didn't return. They are still in my garden, and have invaded my bathroom once, but I drove them off. Once in a while I find one in my room which makes me nervous. They have now moved on to pester my neighbors, who are having a terrible time getting rid of them. If you're having second thoughts about visiting me, don't worry, they're really not that bad.
The permaculture seminar was good-- we started in the classroom and then went to my garden for the practical part. People seemed bored but everytime I thought we were losing their interest they would ask very good questions.
Today there is a wedding in the village. I was invited to help the village nurse make a cake, and we failed miserably the first time, burning the thing black. So I tried again on my own, and the thing didn't rise at all, so it is a small, dense, sweet loaf. I'm too embarrassed to show my face at the wedding, and hopefully they won't know it was me who made the cake!
Friday, October 06, 2006
Exciting New Ideas
We just got done with a 3-day training on permaculture, which was pretty fantastic. I went with a counterpart from my village, whom everyone calls Babu (grandfather in Swahili). The idea is to learn to grow more vegetables close to your home in a small amount of space using water conservation and double digging and other cool tricks. My counterpart is so excited about it that while others were hitting the bar after the session, we were planning permaculture sessions for when we get back to our village. We are setting up a meeting with all the village leaders to organize seminars. I am excited to get back and plant my garden!
We just got done with a 3-day training on permaculture, which was pretty fantastic. I went with a counterpart from my village, whom everyone calls Babu (grandfather in Swahili). The idea is to learn to grow more vegetables close to your home in a small amount of space using water conservation and double digging and other cool tricks. My counterpart is so excited about it that while others were hitting the bar after the session, we were planning permaculture sessions for when we get back to our village. We are setting up a meeting with all the village leaders to organize seminars. I am excited to get back and plant my garden!
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Guests
Yesterday I got the rare chance to see the Prime Minister, as well as the ministers of water, education, and various other things. They came to the next village over (Mtambula, about 2.5k away) for a ribbon-cutting ceremony for a small bank and maize-storage building. They have a generator, so they had a microphone and music playing. I showed up with a friend of mine, and was hanging out in the crowd hoping not to be noticed, but I guess I stick out and the agricultural extension officer called me up to stand in front with the village leaders, school principals, and bank officials. I had heard that the visitors were arriving at 11:00 am, so I showed up then. At 1:30 they arrived, and I had been standing in the line of village leaders ready to shake hands with the ministers for about an hour and a half in front of about 500 townspeople, while a couple of choirs stalled for time by singing welcoming songs. When the ministers finally did show up, they were pressed for time, so they cut the ribbons, took a few questions from the crowd, and were off within the hour (without the long awaited shaking-of-hands). It was an interesting experience, as people here will do ANYTHING for their guests, and often end up waiting for hours for guests with unspecified arrival times. I'm afraid this is what happened when I showed up in my village a day late.
Yesterday I got the rare chance to see the Prime Minister, as well as the ministers of water, education, and various other things. They came to the next village over (Mtambula, about 2.5k away) for a ribbon-cutting ceremony for a small bank and maize-storage building. They have a generator, so they had a microphone and music playing. I showed up with a friend of mine, and was hanging out in the crowd hoping not to be noticed, but I guess I stick out and the agricultural extension officer called me up to stand in front with the village leaders, school principals, and bank officials. I had heard that the visitors were arriving at 11:00 am, so I showed up then. At 1:30 they arrived, and I had been standing in the line of village leaders ready to shake hands with the ministers for about an hour and a half in front of about 500 townspeople, while a couple of choirs stalled for time by singing welcoming songs. When the ministers finally did show up, they were pressed for time, so they cut the ribbons, took a few questions from the crowd, and were off within the hour (without the long awaited shaking-of-hands). It was an interesting experience, as people here will do ANYTHING for their guests, and often end up waiting for hours for guests with unspecified arrival times. I'm afraid this is what happened when I showed up in my village a day late.
Monday, September 18, 2006
Teaching & Learning
Tomorrow will be my one-monthaversary in my village! Every day I find out new things about Tanzania or my village/villagers. I am still very impressed at their hard work. One of the teachers told me the other day that on the rare occasion that he doesn’t have work to do, he likes to sleep in… until 8:00 even! (That’s a.m.) Mostly people wake up at 6:00 and start cooking and cleaning, and then head to school or the farm or garden. I feel lazy when I don’t get out of bed until 7:00.
I began teaching English (which is not part of my job here) last week just to help out a local teacher. It is one of the weirdest experiences I’ve ever had because the kids are terrified of me. They are also incredibly obedient. If asked a question, they automatically stand up, even if they then have no idea of the answer or are too nervous to speak, which is usually the case right now. I got them to loosen up a bit when we played Simon Says. I know they will warm up to me because a few of the kids who started out like that now frequently visit my house. One girl in particular I caught in the act of counting my fingers and toes… she seemed surprised when they totaled 20—just like hers!
On Saturday the monthly market came to town. People came from all around the area to buy clothes and food and basic necessities. I went with a few teachers and enjoyed myself, besides feeling a little uncomfortable at being the only one who is greeted by everyone in either Kihehe, Kiswahili, or English. I bought a cabbage for 10 cents (haggled down from 15c) and a liter of tomatoes for 10 cents.
I am in the process now of finding out about the community and getting to know leaders. It is interesting because there are a few barriers, like the fact that people are busy in their farms, visiting their multiple wives, tending their cattle, going to funerals, etc. I will keep you updated!
Tomorrow will be my one-monthaversary in my village! Every day I find out new things about Tanzania or my village/villagers. I am still very impressed at their hard work. One of the teachers told me the other day that on the rare occasion that he doesn’t have work to do, he likes to sleep in… until 8:00 even! (That’s a.m.) Mostly people wake up at 6:00 and start cooking and cleaning, and then head to school or the farm or garden. I feel lazy when I don’t get out of bed until 7:00.
I began teaching English (which is not part of my job here) last week just to help out a local teacher. It is one of the weirdest experiences I’ve ever had because the kids are terrified of me. They are also incredibly obedient. If asked a question, they automatically stand up, even if they then have no idea of the answer or are too nervous to speak, which is usually the case right now. I got them to loosen up a bit when we played Simon Says. I know they will warm up to me because a few of the kids who started out like that now frequently visit my house. One girl in particular I caught in the act of counting my fingers and toes… she seemed surprised when they totaled 20—just like hers!
On Saturday the monthly market came to town. People came from all around the area to buy clothes and food and basic necessities. I went with a few teachers and enjoyed myself, besides feeling a little uncomfortable at being the only one who is greeted by everyone in either Kihehe, Kiswahili, or English. I bought a cabbage for 10 cents (haggled down from 15c) and a liter of tomatoes for 10 cents.
I am in the process now of finding out about the community and getting to know leaders. It is interesting because there are a few barriers, like the fact that people are busy in their farms, visiting their multiple wives, tending their cattle, going to funerals, etc. I will keep you updated!
Friday, September 01, 2006
Settling In
I had two meetings last Tuesday, which gave me a really good first impression of my village. People were on time and motivated, as well as patient with me. I know a lot of people have trouble getting projects started, but I have already been on a tour of all the water sources in the vilage, which need major repairs. It should be a good place to get work done. This week I also figured out how to make bread on my charcoal stove. It should be good to experiment because the mamas in town like to learn to bake new things. They got a taste of my cornbread last week, and said they wanted me to teach them how to make it. Go figure! Me? Giving baking lessons!?
I had two meetings last Tuesday, which gave me a really good first impression of my village. People were on time and motivated, as well as patient with me. I know a lot of people have trouble getting projects started, but I have already been on a tour of all the water sources in the vilage, which need major repairs. It should be a good place to get work done. This week I also figured out how to make bread on my charcoal stove. It should be good to experiment because the mamas in town like to learn to bake new things. They got a taste of my cornbread last week, and said they wanted me to teach them how to make it. Go figure! Me? Giving baking lessons!?
New Beginnings
After an intense two-month training period I am finally a real Peace Corpse (that's what we're called here)! I arrived at my site last weekend and began to settle in. The people of my village are very friendly and hard-working, the house I stay in is spacious and has a beautiful view of the next mountain over, and there is a lot to be done in the way of projects. I live right next to a primary school, which I will no doubt work very closely with, though right now I'm pretty sure the kids are mostly just terrified of me. They performed a welcome dance and song for me when I arrived, which was really beautiful, but I still sense fear.
So far I am healthy and happy, and just trying to adapt to the abrupt change in lifestyle from the training-site homestay. I had a lovely host family, with many kids who helped me learn the language, as well as how to cook, clean, dance etc. Tanzanian style. Leaving them behind, as well as the other volunteers and trainers was a bit hard. The Swahili training I got was excellent, but it is a bit different in this region. Most of the people in my town are Hehe, and the elders mainly speak the local language Kihehe.
My job right now is to talk to people and get to know their challenges in the village, because we are not allowed to do any projects until after our first in-service training in three months. I am sorry for being a poor correspondent for my first couple of months here, but there were no computers in my training site.
After an intense two-month training period I am finally a real Peace Corpse (that's what we're called here)! I arrived at my site last weekend and began to settle in. The people of my village are very friendly and hard-working, the house I stay in is spacious and has a beautiful view of the next mountain over, and there is a lot to be done in the way of projects. I live right next to a primary school, which I will no doubt work very closely with, though right now I'm pretty sure the kids are mostly just terrified of me. They performed a welcome dance and song for me when I arrived, which was really beautiful, but I still sense fear.
So far I am healthy and happy, and just trying to adapt to the abrupt change in lifestyle from the training-site homestay. I had a lovely host family, with many kids who helped me learn the language, as well as how to cook, clean, dance etc. Tanzanian style. Leaving them behind, as well as the other volunteers and trainers was a bit hard. The Swahili training I got was excellent, but it is a bit different in this region. Most of the people in my town are Hehe, and the elders mainly speak the local language Kihehe.
My job right now is to talk to people and get to know their challenges in the village, because we are not allowed to do any projects until after our first in-service training in three months. I am sorry for being a poor correspondent for my first couple of months here, but there were no computers in my training site.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Thanks-giving
There are a lot of people I want to thank, and I can’t wait until fall. I made a concerted effort not to use anyone’s real or full names, so you may have to look carefully. Here they are in alphabetical order:
305 Patterson: I made it through a year without catching malaria—let’s see if I can do two more. Thanks for your endless patience and support!
Acadia ENVS, Geologists and others: Thanks for swimming, snow shoeing, free-style rap and carrot cakes, 400 AD parties, occasional study sessions, button mushroom extravaganzas, Iron Chefs and Spidermanly expeditions.
Acadian Somalis: Thanks for the encouragement, Swahili lessons, and teaching me how to cook Somali pasta!
Acadia Tanzanians: Thanks for making me feel welcome in Tanzania long before I ever set foot there!
Acadia WUSC & Amnesty: Thanks for being beautiful people. Inside and out.
’banksians: Thanks for not being too cool for me four years after we graduated from high school.
Calypso farmers: Thanks for teaching me the dual arts of broad-forking and scuffle-hoeing, and for being incredibly wonderful people!
CEDUAM: Gracias para la introducción a México, a la agricultura orgánica, y al Chavo del Ocho.
Cousins: I’d probably be bumming around if it weren’t for the example you’ve set… you are all doing cool things, and I didn’t want to be left out! Thanks for the inspiration.
Former teachers: Thanks for putting up with me and imparting your knowledge on me. Your influence allowed the alphabetization of this list, among other things.
Horse: Thanks for the ride! And for putting up with bad Mexican music and a concerted lack of Feng shui.
Irmao: Thanks for putting up with me, giving me Portuguese lessons, and teaching me the wonders of Bangu, the Smiths, and caipirinha.
Jackie Chan: Thanks for being an inspirational role model.
Mom & Dad: Thanks for everything! Don’t take it personally that yet again I seem to be trying to get as far away from you as possible.
Nortons and the Chalmers: I wish I could have seen more of you! Thanks for the support!
Old Roomies: You are all brilliant, blinding lights from heaven. Only one word could possibly come close to describing you: scrumtrulescent. The only problem is that I feel my luck on roommates can’t possibly hold out. I’m in for a doozy.
Peace Corps in Fairbanks: Thanks for having me at your meeting and giving me great advice—thanks to you I will not be lacking peanut butter and blow-up globes in Tanzania.
Queens of the WIC: Thanks for your general amazingness!
Sis & Bro: So glad we had a little bit of a reunion. Some day we’ll make it to that bus.
Valdivians and Gringuitas: Thanks for helping me get the travel bug!
There are a lot of people I want to thank, and I can’t wait until fall. I made a concerted effort not to use anyone’s real or full names, so you may have to look carefully. Here they are in alphabetical order:
305 Patterson: I made it through a year without catching malaria—let’s see if I can do two more. Thanks for your endless patience and support!
Acadia ENVS, Geologists and others: Thanks for swimming, snow shoeing, free-style rap and carrot cakes, 400 AD parties, occasional study sessions, button mushroom extravaganzas, Iron Chefs and Spidermanly expeditions.
Acadian Somalis: Thanks for the encouragement, Swahili lessons, and teaching me how to cook Somali pasta!
Acadia Tanzanians: Thanks for making me feel welcome in Tanzania long before I ever set foot there!
Acadia WUSC & Amnesty: Thanks for being beautiful people. Inside and out.
’banksians: Thanks for not being too cool for me four years after we graduated from high school.
Calypso farmers: Thanks for teaching me the dual arts of broad-forking and scuffle-hoeing, and for being incredibly wonderful people!
CEDUAM: Gracias para la introducción a México, a la agricultura orgánica, y al Chavo del Ocho.
Cousins: I’d probably be bumming around if it weren’t for the example you’ve set… you are all doing cool things, and I didn’t want to be left out! Thanks for the inspiration.
Former teachers: Thanks for putting up with me and imparting your knowledge on me. Your influence allowed the alphabetization of this list, among other things.
Horse: Thanks for the ride! And for putting up with bad Mexican music and a concerted lack of Feng shui.
Irmao: Thanks for putting up with me, giving me Portuguese lessons, and teaching me the wonders of Bangu, the Smiths, and caipirinha.
Jackie Chan: Thanks for being an inspirational role model.
Mom & Dad: Thanks for everything! Don’t take it personally that yet again I seem to be trying to get as far away from you as possible.
Nortons and the Chalmers: I wish I could have seen more of you! Thanks for the support!
Old Roomies: You are all brilliant, blinding lights from heaven. Only one word could possibly come close to describing you: scrumtrulescent. The only problem is that I feel my luck on roommates can’t possibly hold out. I’m in for a doozy.
Peace Corps in Fairbanks: Thanks for having me at your meeting and giving me great advice—thanks to you I will not be lacking peanut butter and blow-up globes in Tanzania.
Queens of the WIC: Thanks for your general amazingness!
Sis & Bro: So glad we had a little bit of a reunion. Some day we’ll make it to that bus.
Valdivians and Gringuitas: Thanks for helping me get the travel bug!
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Hello all!
First off, can anyone guess what the roosters say in Tanzania? I will let you know when I get there! Thanks for visiting my blog. This is where you can find out about my adventures in Tanzania, where I will be in a week, working as an environment volunteer for the Peace Corps. Right now I am preparing for the trip by trying to scrape together everything from "business casual" clothes to pictures of my family that they don't hate to ziplock baggies. I am ecstatic to be going to Tanzania, but of course I will miss all of you! The first question is: will I survive the 11 hour time difference and transition from Fairbanks (where it snowed this weekend!) to Dar Es Salaam? Time will tell...
First off, can anyone guess what the roosters say in Tanzania? I will let you know when I get there! Thanks for visiting my blog. This is where you can find out about my adventures in Tanzania, where I will be in a week, working as an environment volunteer for the Peace Corps. Right now I am preparing for the trip by trying to scrape together everything from "business casual" clothes to pictures of my family that they don't hate to ziplock baggies. I am ecstatic to be going to Tanzania, but of course I will miss all of you! The first question is: will I survive the 11 hour time difference and transition from Fairbanks (where it snowed this weekend!) to Dar Es Salaam? Time will tell...
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