Saturday, April 19, 2008

A change of scenery

It’s official, in July I’m done being a mzungu, but not done being a Peace Corpse! I’m trading in my kofia for a sombrero, Bongo Flavor for Punta music, my shilingi for lempira, and my ugali for tortillas. I’m putting off actually having to figure out what to do with my life for another 2 years. On July 15th I’ll leave Dar es Salaam heading for Tegucigalpa, Honduras as a Protected Areas Management Volunteer.

My biggest fears are of becoming that annoying girl who is constantly mocked for the phrase “And this one time in Tanzania...” and being socially inept among other Americans who haven’t been immersed in Tanzanian culture for 2 years. I was complaining to my best friend the other day that while my friends back in the states are getting smarter (taking higher degrees, getting challenging jobs), I’m getting dumber (unable to construct sentences in English, forgetting everything I learned in college). He pointed out that it is ok, as I am getting stronger! By the time I get back home I’m going to be a muscle-bound mute much like a cavewoman. I jokes.

I read a book by a deaf Peace Corps Volunteer in Zambia, in which the author quotes that "Peace Corps Volunteers in Asia come back spiritually aware, volunteers in Latin America come back politically and socially motivated, and those in Africa come back drunk and laughing". So expect the arrival of a drunken activist in 2010.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Slow Progress
The village’s jolly nurse and I pedaled our bikes up the hill in the heat of the midday sun, with only a vague clue of where we were headed. We were looking for two certain people and knew the name of the sub-village where we needed to go, but we had to be discrete when asking villagers where the people lived. The nurse rarely leaves the dispensary, as a pregnant mama or a sick person could turn up at any moment, so it was an odd sight to see her riding around in the bush.

On a journey that took us in a few circles, we finally ended up at a small mud house in the forest, where a very kindly couple in their sixties lives. The woman is one of those people for whom a slight smile permanently brightens her face, and the man has an easy flowing way of chatting. The couple is HIV positive.

I was worried that this visit would be awkward, as it was my first meeting with them. It wasn’t. We inquired about farming and kids. The nurse and I teased ourselves about being wimps for having our small farm plots so close to our homes. The couple has to hike far up a mountain to get to their farm, which is losing fertility.

Then we brought the subject around to their health. The man does not look at his wife or address her directly, and refers to her as "my friend." He says "I’m doing all right health-wise, but I don’t know about my friend." This is normal. She is one of his two surviving "friends," and he married her after she had been widowed. They are currently taking ARV’s, and are healthy enough that they had just come from the farm.

We gave them some sugar, salt and soap. They were gracious hosts and sent us on our way with a basketful of fresh corn to roast. We made plans to meet up again. Some places in Tanzania it is relatively easy to be open about having HIV. Not in my area. I’ve tried all kinds of things to get people who know they are positive to come out of the woodwork. Finally the nurse got some names of people and asked them if she could share them with me. I hope it will be a great first step in getting help for those sick with AIDS and getting rid of stigma.

Top 5 reasons why it will be hard for me to leave Tanzania
1. Here tooth-brushing is not confined to the bathroom and does not prevent you from carrying out other activities. You might find someone brandishing a hoe, washing clothes, or cooking with a foamy toothbrush hanging off his lip.

2. Kids are left to their own devices as soon as they are able to control their own bodily functions. I like this philosophy.

3. You can accuse people you barely know of being liars. It’s not nearly as rude as it is in our culture. A good example would be when the bus conductor tells you the price has gone up 500 shillings because the price of oil went up. Then you are allowed to call him a liar.

4. There are convenient and normal phrases to say "welcome," "where were you just now (before coming here)?," "my condolences," and "you have tried your level best." In English these phrases sound awkward/too formal/exchange-studentish, but in Swahili they are more than normal.

5. Bongo Flavor. This is the popular Tanzanian music. Many foreigners find it repetitive, boring, or whiny. But I’m addicted.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Dinosaurs
I started trying to explain dinosaurs to a friend, and before I could mention that they were extinct, he exclaimed, “Oh yeah, there are a bunch of those on the path from here to Kimilinzowo!” After sorting out that that was pretty unlikely, I decided it might be interesting to teach the seventh graders about them.

One of the quickest ways to cause villagers to doubt your truthfulness is to tell people about dinosaurs. The kids were sitting in class on a Sunday, waiting for a teacher to come. A friend of mine had taught dinosaurs before in his primary school, and had come armed with a National Geographic about them. It showed artists’ renderings of what some of the weirder dinosaurs might have looked like: some looking ferocious except for two puny little arms, some with sharp spikes protruding from their shoulders, and others smaller than a rat but with ridiculously long fingers. It felt as though we were showing them pictures of Transformers and trying to convince them that they were real. Whether or not they were convinced, they were definitely amused.

Priorities
A woman came to my house asking for money. She explained that she needed to buy corn which would then be made into “Common” (vomit-like alcoholic beverage) which she needed to take to a funeral so she could dump it on her deceased relative’s grave. Once I had heard her plea, I reiterated the statement, just to see if she realized exactly how bizarre it sounded. This particular woman seems incapable of talking about anything but sick people, hard work, and a lack of money. She began talking about how hard life was and how her kids had just washed their clothes without soap. When I heard this, I said I would give her the money, but she had to use it to buy soap for her kids, rather than alcohol to dump on the ground.

Scare-human
There is a section of my farm which I just call the “bird-feeder” now, due to the fact that all of my giant sunflowers have been completely destroyed by crows. A friend helped me construct a scare-crow, using some of my old clothes and stuffing them with dried bean-plant residue. The plants are still being attacked, but half of my visitors show up slapping their thighs and saying they’ve just greeted my guard. Most of the time I’m the one who gets startled by the scare-crow when I make my way home in the evening.

Quiz time
What would you consider the weirdest occurrence you might come across in the Southern Highlands of Tanzania?

a. People on the bus asking you if you’re married, and if so then when is your husband’s contract up.

b. People walking for miles and miles along the side of the road completely laden with live chickens which they are taking to sell to expensive restaurants in Dar Es Salaam which pay high prices and pride themselves in serving chickens which have never been transported by car or even bicycle.

c. Grown men hopping like frogs in front of the police station.

d. People walking backwards on Sundays for good luck.

e. Old women spitting on young kids they think are bright or handsome.

And the answer is… well it could be (a) or (c), depending on which you think is stranger. I’ve met several people here who are under the impression that Americans get married for a set amount of time, and after the contract is up, they divorce. I’m not sure where this idea came from, but it may be a product of our high divorce rate. Also you could find people doing a number of degrading things outside the police station, many of them forced to do so until they give in and give a bribe. Letters (b) and (d) are completely made up. I borrowed (e) from my Turkish friend who says that it is a custom there to spit on these people to bring them luck (at least in Ankara).