To all those who wonder just how you celebrate the holidays in a small Tanzanian village, well, you really don't. I mean, there is church, obviously. My village is predominantly Christian, with few traditional animist beliefs intermingled. There is no decorating of trees (even though there are pine trees near my village,) there are no exchanging of gifts, and of course, no christmas cookies or fruitcake.
In some of the bigger towns or cities, you can find artificial christmas trees and shiny banners saying merry christmas . .. or my favorite "merry crrysimas" . . . misspellings go unnoticed at times. I received a text message from a Tanzanian friend that said "Heppy Klisimas" . . . many people here mix the "l" sounds with "r" sounds and vice versa . . . My name has also been written "Klistina" at times.
The one question that villagers have asked me multiple times is "what will you eat on Christmas?" Those who can afford it will have rice or pilau with meat. I joined up with a few volunteers in my region and we cooked a small feast together (stuffing, roast pork and beef, home-made bread, spinach salad, home-made cakes and pies all cooked over charcoal or wood-burning stoves) . .. along with a gift exchange and plenty of lounging around and watching christmas movies. (Yes, there was electricity at the guesthouse where we stayed . .. and access to a vcr and dvd player!) My highlight of the day, however, was hiking to a small waterfall near the town of Njombe, where we were staying. I can't say i've ever been able to do that on any previous Christmas.
Of course, I missed my family and friends back home . .. to the point where I had to lock myself in the bathroom for a little bit because I thought I was going to cry. I mean, how could I go through Christmas without my mother's home-made pasta and fried calamari?! But I was fine, it didn't really feel like Christmas, just a nice holiday, an excuse for us volunteers to get together and "do American things." There was no snow, just a bit of rain . .. I made a small tree made out of toilet paper rolls and biscuit wrappers. those are kinds of things you do when you're bored in the village and it's rainy season ;)
I was stricken with some bad news last week of my Host mother's sudden death due to a car accident on her way up north to Moshi. She was so good to me, and I was just talking to another PCV about visiting her next year, and sending her a christmas card . .. and some pictures of us together from my three month stay with her. I found out on the day of her funeral, which was an eight-hour bus ride away, so unfortunately I could not go to say "goodbye" to her. It's an unfortunate thing that we have to deal with death a lot in the peace corps . .. but we were warned in training, "you will lose many friends here" . . . and so far I have lost two.
But loss is often followed by birth . . . and on that note, I watched my cat give birth to five kittens. I woke up one night to hear her making an unusual sound . .. and then when i rubbed my eyes and figured out what was going on, I grabbed my headlamp and a pair of rubber gloves and sat there . .. wondering if i had to do anything. instead, i just rubbed her belly between contractions of each birth . . . and after two hours, was proud of myself for being a good "grandmother." I'm happy to say I have five healthy kittens . .. and have found good homes for each of them.
So, yup, that's what I've been doing the past month . . . making christmas trees out of trash and mid-wifing kittens . . . but as far as volunteering goes . . . I did participate in a batik workshop (a wax-dye process for fabrics) and plan to make a possible income generation project for my orphaned girls group. I have been researching and planning more projects, and will be attending a two week training in January for project implementation and grant writing. . . yeah, i don't even know where to begin to write grants, so this seminar will be more than helpful.
I have been receiving packages of used books for the library project, and i know that three more packages are sitting at the post office waiting for me to pick them up, and I thank you all so much for your donations! I am so very appreciative. At this point, I dont' think I need any more books from home, but instead I need to find a way to get more books written in Swahili. So, if you have some of those stashed away, you are more than welcome to send them. ;)
Happy Holidays to you all back home. . . and remember, someone in Africa is thinking of you all and actually misses the snow and warm fires back home. Traveling is a wonderful, eye-opening experience, but it never expels the need to be with family and friends, especially during the holidays.
love and peace, cris
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Thursday, December 4, 2008
A time to "pumzika"
pumzika, it means rest. And unfortunately, I haven't had much of it lately, but I'm planning on much of it for the next, say, month or so . . .
Lots of goings-on, for village life, that is. I have been busy trying to finish Peace Corps now mandatory VSA (village survey assessment, or something like that) which entailed going from house to house interviewing people and their needs, problems, etc. I have been planning to have testing and information for World AIDS day, organizing songs and skits with my orphan girls' group "kikundi cha kipepeo" and my PLWHA group, and trying to get plans together for holiday trips. Along with all of that, the power has been off and on in the towns that have it, due to storms and such (yes, it does rain in Africa . .. especially during the months of December-April) and internet has been on sporadically, which makes writing and sending my VSA report very trying. I have been completely devoid of energy . . . and have had many unmentionable trips to the bathroom . .. so now i'm in town, just back from the visit to the regional hospital, with the final verdict. amoebas. now i'm just waiting for response from my Peace Corps Medical officer to see what medication i should be taking for that. I feel fine now, but yesterday was another story . .. and with a 5 hour bus ride from where I was trying to write my report in Makembako, to the other side of the region in Iringa, with my head-throbbing from tanzanian music being blared on the Coaster, it was a fun trip into town . ..
I had testing done at a local clinic in makembako, but of course, they told me it was malaria. they always say malaria. So thus, i had to haul myself back into public transport for a more reliable opinion. Oh, and did I mention I was attacked by little biting ants the other day?! not fun. really.
So, it's been up and down, but I'll focus more on the ups. I was able to get something together for World AIDS day. It didnt' go quite as planned, but at least, it went. The nurses showed up . .. a good 4 hours late . .. (pretty good for Tanzanian time) and it rained, so the skits and songs that were planned just didnt' happen. I was able to speak a little on AIDS prevention but got a lot of blank looks and giggles. Luckily, I had the nurses there to reiterate what I said in better Swahili . . . We ended up testing 200 people, and of those, 18 were HIV positive. ( considered a low number for my region.) However, there are over 2000 people in my village and its subvillages together, and the demographic with the most rapidly growing rate of HIV transmission is young adults- which very few showed to be tested. For next time, I need to focus on how to get young people out to be tested. And children . .. I need to plan a separate day devoted to just testing children, as there are so many orphaned by this incurable disease.
Thanksgiving was great. Of course, I missed my family and friends back home as much as I missed my mom's homemade stuffing, but we made the most of it with what we could. Most of the volunteers in my region were invited by a former PCV who now works at a nearby orphanage, set way up in the rolling hills near the Udzungwa Mountains, among miles of green tea plantations. It's absolutely breath-takingly beautiful there, but the cabride to get there was . .. umm . . . adventurous, if you could call it that?! We had a puppy with us . .. that got a little carsick from the bumpy ride, and we had to have several stops due to the puppies' indigestions. . . as well as the fact that we could not find the place! As soon as we did, our cab blew out a tire . .. bad luck, but at least we had arrived! We all pitched in and cooked a dish or two ( I made potatoes, half of which spilled on the bumpy ride) and a lopsided chocolate mocha cake which made up for the lack of potatoes. We had a feast! No turkey, but we did have some pretty damn good ham . .. and potatoes, soup, cornbread, green bean casserole, etc. No pumpkin pie . .. but we managed apple and mango/pineapple! mmmm . .. yeah, we ate a lot. It was a nice break from rice or ugali. Barely being able to move after dinner, there was no loafing around and watching football, but instead, we took a torturous but beautiful hike up the mountains to wear the proprietors of the land (British ex-pat tea estate owners who also run an orphanage) have a lodge and beautiful gardens, including a tennis court and croquet lawn. what? in Africa? yes. Yeah, I have never played croquet before, but I can now say I first played in Tanzania . .. of all places. Sure it may all sound so "colonial" but honestly, these people are doing wonderful things, and it was kind of nice to have a little break from village life and sip wine, eat a big meal, and hit around a croquet mallet.
The next day we had a little party at a friends' village, and it was great to have a mix of Americans and Tanzanians eating and drinking together . .. which somehow ensued into a freestyle rap throw-down between one of the PCVs and a local teacher. absolutely hilarious. I'll let you all know when the album comes out, because apparently, there are plans in the works :)
I thank you all for your support, letters, and messages you've been sending. It keeps me floating, head above water, everyday. I miss you all, but I can't wait to share more stories and pictures with you when I return. I am thankful for all of you. Happy Belated Thanksgiving, and Happy Holidays!
love,
cristina
Lots of goings-on, for village life, that is. I have been busy trying to finish Peace Corps now mandatory VSA (village survey assessment, or something like that) which entailed going from house to house interviewing people and their needs, problems, etc. I have been planning to have testing and information for World AIDS day, organizing songs and skits with my orphan girls' group "kikundi cha kipepeo" and my PLWHA group, and trying to get plans together for holiday trips. Along with all of that, the power has been off and on in the towns that have it, due to storms and such (yes, it does rain in Africa . .. especially during the months of December-April) and internet has been on sporadically, which makes writing and sending my VSA report very trying. I have been completely devoid of energy . . . and have had many unmentionable trips to the bathroom . .. so now i'm in town, just back from the visit to the regional hospital, with the final verdict. amoebas. now i'm just waiting for response from my Peace Corps Medical officer to see what medication i should be taking for that. I feel fine now, but yesterday was another story . .. and with a 5 hour bus ride from where I was trying to write my report in Makembako, to the other side of the region in Iringa, with my head-throbbing from tanzanian music being blared on the Coaster, it was a fun trip into town . ..
I had testing done at a local clinic in makembako, but of course, they told me it was malaria. they always say malaria. So thus, i had to haul myself back into public transport for a more reliable opinion. Oh, and did I mention I was attacked by little biting ants the other day?! not fun. really.
So, it's been up and down, but I'll focus more on the ups. I was able to get something together for World AIDS day. It didnt' go quite as planned, but at least, it went. The nurses showed up . .. a good 4 hours late . .. (pretty good for Tanzanian time) and it rained, so the skits and songs that were planned just didnt' happen. I was able to speak a little on AIDS prevention but got a lot of blank looks and giggles. Luckily, I had the nurses there to reiterate what I said in better Swahili . . . We ended up testing 200 people, and of those, 18 were HIV positive. ( considered a low number for my region.) However, there are over 2000 people in my village and its subvillages together, and the demographic with the most rapidly growing rate of HIV transmission is young adults- which very few showed to be tested. For next time, I need to focus on how to get young people out to be tested. And children . .. I need to plan a separate day devoted to just testing children, as there are so many orphaned by this incurable disease.
Thanksgiving was great. Of course, I missed my family and friends back home as much as I missed my mom's homemade stuffing, but we made the most of it with what we could. Most of the volunteers in my region were invited by a former PCV who now works at a nearby orphanage, set way up in the rolling hills near the Udzungwa Mountains, among miles of green tea plantations. It's absolutely breath-takingly beautiful there, but the cabride to get there was . .. umm . . . adventurous, if you could call it that?! We had a puppy with us . .. that got a little carsick from the bumpy ride, and we had to have several stops due to the puppies' indigestions. . . as well as the fact that we could not find the place! As soon as we did, our cab blew out a tire . .. bad luck, but at least we had arrived! We all pitched in and cooked a dish or two ( I made potatoes, half of which spilled on the bumpy ride) and a lopsided chocolate mocha cake which made up for the lack of potatoes. We had a feast! No turkey, but we did have some pretty damn good ham . .. and potatoes, soup, cornbread, green bean casserole, etc. No pumpkin pie . .. but we managed apple and mango/pineapple! mmmm . .. yeah, we ate a lot. It was a nice break from rice or ugali. Barely being able to move after dinner, there was no loafing around and watching football, but instead, we took a torturous but beautiful hike up the mountains to wear the proprietors of the land (British ex-pat tea estate owners who also run an orphanage) have a lodge and beautiful gardens, including a tennis court and croquet lawn. what? in Africa? yes. Yeah, I have never played croquet before, but I can now say I first played in Tanzania . .. of all places. Sure it may all sound so "colonial" but honestly, these people are doing wonderful things, and it was kind of nice to have a little break from village life and sip wine, eat a big meal, and hit around a croquet mallet.
The next day we had a little party at a friends' village, and it was great to have a mix of Americans and Tanzanians eating and drinking together . .. which somehow ensued into a freestyle rap throw-down between one of the PCVs and a local teacher. absolutely hilarious. I'll let you all know when the album comes out, because apparently, there are plans in the works :)
I thank you all for your support, letters, and messages you've been sending. It keeps me floating, head above water, everyday. I miss you all, but I can't wait to share more stories and pictures with you when I return. I am thankful for all of you. Happy Belated Thanksgiving, and Happy Holidays!
love,
cristina
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Obama's Effect
Hongera Sana (congratulations) Obama! And a great effort to John McCain, who I believe is a good man who has been through a lot of hardships, and tried throughout his career to be somewhat bi-partisan, but the race for presidency turned him into something he is not. It became a black vs. white, republican vs. democrat, Christian vs. (Christian, but people think he's Muslim) event.
I got together in town with a few volunteers to watch the election results. We found a guesthouse that had great satellite t.v. and comfy couches . .. and warm showers! :) We were able to pick up BBC and CNN international services and watch the results, in and out of sleep, bleary-eyed from 8pm at night until 7am the next morning. We were all Obama fans, and jumped through many hoops to get our absentee ballots mailed to us and back to the states. You could only imagine our enthusiasm (even on a few hours of sleep) when he did indeed win!!! This was a pivotal election for everyone, but being in East Africa seemed to make it even more of a milestone event. Most people here know of Obama, and are all rooting for him because he still has family in Kenya. The BBC station had coverage from the small Kenyan village where Obama's grandmother still lives, and the whole village was celebrating his achievement . .. I could only imagine the pride in his distant village (which he did visit last year) . .. and how they were all saying they were so proud of "their son." Living in a small village myself, I can't imagine the pride they feel right now. They never dreamed of having a person of African descent to become the president of a country so highly respected, loved, or loathed by Africans. Many people here have the misconceptions that he is Muslim (but then again so do people in the U.S.) or that he is full African (not acknowledging his white, American mother.) But I use this as a learning tool- to teach people of Africa that Americans are all different. We are a nation of immigrants. And maybe I won't have as many people asking me why I'm not blonde, blue-eyed, or tall if I'm American? I explain to them that my parents are Italian, and that they emigrated to America, and they begin to understand. However, many people see pictures of volunteers or their family or friends who are African-American, and they ask, "If they are African, how did they get to America?" Which lead us to realize that the majority of people here don't know about the slave trade. Those who are able to be educated at the college level or higher secondary school know about slavery, but many do not. Some are more aware of the Arab slave trade off the island of Zanzibar, but it makes me feel responsible for telling them of the history of the Americas as well . . . and yet, at the same time i am afraid to say anything. Is it because i don't want them to know of the cruelties and hardships endured . . . or perhaps because I'm afraid they will look at me differently? As much as I believe in Obama as a person, and as a great representation of Americans today, i also hope that his influence upon the rest of the world will help people perceive Americans differently. Maybe we still have a long way to go, but I am proud to say that I come from a nation that is diverse in its people, all descendants of immigrants or indigenous tribes, where we have the freedom to think, feel, and act independently. We care about the rest of the world, because we are the rest of the world, and hopefully other countries will begin to see that as well. Change will not happen overnight, but I will be happy to come home to a country that I believe has hope. lots of it.
Again, thank you all for your support and interest. Go Obama!
I got together in town with a few volunteers to watch the election results. We found a guesthouse that had great satellite t.v. and comfy couches . .. and warm showers! :) We were able to pick up BBC and CNN international services and watch the results, in and out of sleep, bleary-eyed from 8pm at night until 7am the next morning. We were all Obama fans, and jumped through many hoops to get our absentee ballots mailed to us and back to the states. You could only imagine our enthusiasm (even on a few hours of sleep) when he did indeed win!!! This was a pivotal election for everyone, but being in East Africa seemed to make it even more of a milestone event. Most people here know of Obama, and are all rooting for him because he still has family in Kenya. The BBC station had coverage from the small Kenyan village where Obama's grandmother still lives, and the whole village was celebrating his achievement . .. I could only imagine the pride in his distant village (which he did visit last year) . .. and how they were all saying they were so proud of "their son." Living in a small village myself, I can't imagine the pride they feel right now. They never dreamed of having a person of African descent to become the president of a country so highly respected, loved, or loathed by Africans. Many people here have the misconceptions that he is Muslim (but then again so do people in the U.S.) or that he is full African (not acknowledging his white, American mother.) But I use this as a learning tool- to teach people of Africa that Americans are all different. We are a nation of immigrants. And maybe I won't have as many people asking me why I'm not blonde, blue-eyed, or tall if I'm American? I explain to them that my parents are Italian, and that they emigrated to America, and they begin to understand. However, many people see pictures of volunteers or their family or friends who are African-American, and they ask, "If they are African, how did they get to America?" Which lead us to realize that the majority of people here don't know about the slave trade. Those who are able to be educated at the college level or higher secondary school know about slavery, but many do not. Some are more aware of the Arab slave trade off the island of Zanzibar, but it makes me feel responsible for telling them of the history of the Americas as well . . . and yet, at the same time i am afraid to say anything. Is it because i don't want them to know of the cruelties and hardships endured . . . or perhaps because I'm afraid they will look at me differently? As much as I believe in Obama as a person, and as a great representation of Americans today, i also hope that his influence upon the rest of the world will help people perceive Americans differently. Maybe we still have a long way to go, but I am proud to say that I come from a nation that is diverse in its people, all descendants of immigrants or indigenous tribes, where we have the freedom to think, feel, and act independently. We care about the rest of the world, because we are the rest of the world, and hopefully other countries will begin to see that as well. Change will not happen overnight, but I will be happy to come home to a country that I believe has hope. lots of it.
Again, thank you all for your support and interest. Go Obama!
Friday, October 31, 2008
Mungu Akipenda
The title means, "if God wishes." It is a common phrase used here in Tanzania . . . you could say it is used almost too often. Tanzanians are very religious . .. in my small village alone there are many churches- Roman Catholic, Lutheran, Tanzanian Assembly of God, Evangelists Assembly of God, Seventh Day Adventists, The Church of Higher Divine Gospel?! Yes, they all exist here . .. there is a strong Muslim influence as well, but mostly in coastal regions and not found in my village. (though we still recognize Muslim holidays such as Idi) The problem with the phrase mungu akipenda, is that the people here put so much responsibility into the hands of God and God's will, that you wonder how much it starts to impede on their own independent responsibility. Even if you say, "I will meet you tomorrow at 3:00," they will say, Mungu Akipenda. Then . .. they do indeed show up the next day, but in Tanzanian time, two to three hours late ;)
It's funny, in the states i was known to be slow, patient, and infamously late to Everything! Here, I am considered a speed demon who doesn't like to be inefficient, I get impatient and hasty, and |I'm always early (compared to everyone else.) I'm also one of the few people that own a watch, so that could be another reason for my punctuality . .. but no one is ever in a hurry to get things done. It can be frustrating, when you are trying to get projects done, and people say, okay tomorrow. always tomorrow.
I am learning to adjust to the slow pace of village life . . . but am a little afraid of the reverse culture shock \i will experience upon return to the fast-paced, hectic and frenetic lifestyle of American life. The funny thing is that people refer to Americans as "ones who keep time" . .. time in village life, is just a matter of sun-up to sun-down . . . things happen when they happen.
I have started teaching English to primary school students. A class full of 90-some 5th grade level students crammed into tiny desks. Some share books because they don't have enough. Some can't see the board from where they sit, but they never ask me what i've written. i try to repeat things as much as possible and ask if they understand, and they all say yes because they are afraid to say no. \i ask if they have any questions and nobody raises a hand . .. though i'm sure there are questions out there. Corporal punishment is allowed in schools here, and the students are quiet, obedient, stay put, and dont' say much . .. but out of fear. they dont' understand the lessons in their books, they're far too advanced, but they pretend they do. i quizzed them in class with some true or false questions and they all answered "true" in unison to every question . .. i think you can see the problem in this. The students haven't had an english teacher for a few months as their teacher is away on pregnancy leave, so i'm just picking up where she left off . .. however, I learned quickly that i had to start from basic levels to even attempt to cover the lessons they are supposed to be completing. So, I've taught sentence construction, nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs, objects of a prepasition, tenses, etc. I'm trying to remember this grammar myself, as it's been years since i studied this . . .
sure, they can say "goodmorning teacher" and "education ees inspiration" because they have memorized these things.. . they can memorize and spit back out anything you tell them . . . but they don't understand why. i say in english"goodmorning students" and they say "fine thankyou, madaam." . . . so I try to explain that i am not asking how their morning is, just saying goodmorning . .. and the next day . . . again, "fine, thank you madaam." I wrote on the board "prepositional phrases" and they all said together in unison "prepositional phrases". .. because they think that's what they're supposed to do, but they don't know what it means. I just laugh, but it's not funny . .. I hope I can help them actually comprehend what I'm teaching. . . not just chew it up and spit it back out. The truly difficult thing is that their entrance exams into Secondary School are all in English . .. so if they dont' grasp it within the next two years, they many not make it on to continue (if they can afford the school fees anyway.)
I have been continuing to help with baby-weighing, and plan to start a nutrition and health group for mothers and pregnant women starting in November. I am in the midst of planning a village-wide testing for World Aids Day on December 1st . .. just trying to cut through all the red tape of getting the Doctors, Nurses, and equipment from the local hospital to come to our village dispensary. I am keeping my fingers crossed that this event will indeed happen, as I think our village is in need of it. I do have a good number of people that come to our PLWHA meetings, but i have a feeling there are many more who are unaware of their infections, or feel the stigma of the disease preventing them from joining the group.
I have had the unfortunate experience of already losing one of my favorite members of the group. He was a widower, to a wife I believe died from the same disease, and now leaves four children orphaned. One of whom, is a fierce netball player. She is one of my favorite students, and I hope to be able to take her on my Kilimanjaro Climb for orphaned girls which i'm in the midst of planning for next year. It is discouraging and emotionally difficult to lose friends so quickly, though Peace Corps has warned us that it is a problem we will all encounter. You can't help but feel guitly as well that maybe you could have done something to help . .. like maybe if we would have been able to get treatments delivered to the dispensary, he would still be here, but you can't blame yourself for a problem that is so widespread- all you can do is help spread the information and knowledge to prevent the disease from spreading, and help those infected live a fuller, healthier life. The funeral was difficult to attend, but the whole village showed up and they were happy to see me attend. They knew i had respected the man who was always smiling and helpful, and seemed to be making the most of his life. The people here grieve differently . .. only his children were crying. no one else, not even his mother or sister. we sat around in dark rooms, on mats on the floor, staring at our feet a lot, not saying much. We were all silent until some of the Bibis (older women), old enough to still bare the dots and hashmarks of tribal ritual scarification on their cheeks and foreheads, began to wail. They still sat there looking somber, but they wailed in great mourning. It was a moving experience, but very sad and emotional for me. I was glad that the next day, I was able to meet up with a fellow volunteer and watch movies with some German volunteers who have electricity. Though I'm adjusting and beginning to really love my village and its people, sometimes, you need to just get away . .. and crawl back to the comforts of home such as chocolate bars, silly movies, or music from back home.
there were two funerals that week in my village, but there was also a wedding. I was hoping for a traditional, tribal wedding where we all dance around a fire at night, but unfortunately, no such national geographic-type experience was to be had. Instead, they had rented a generator so that the pastor could speak for hours on a microphone, the keyboardist could play the same repetitive casio-beat for five hours straight, and there was one lone electric bulb hanging. . . though it was unnecessary as everyone left before nightfall. The night before, i had been asked to help bake the cake, and i obliged. It was me and four other old women calling me the "cake teacher" and literally raising their hands to ask questions. The funny thing is, it was my first time baking a cake without a conventional oven, so i had no idea what to expect. luckily for my peace corps issue cookbook, i had a recipe for yellow cake and instructions on how to make an oven out of two pots, two lids, some rocks and charcoal . .. and bam! we had ourselves some cake! it was pretty good, too ;) they asked me to help decorate it . .. so i obliged again. they handed me some shiny gift wrap paper and said, "mapambo," decorate. So . . . i cut up some paper snowflakes in shapes of flowers and hearts and butterflies . .. and they sat and stared in complete awe. These women can weave rugs and baskets out of straw and banana leaves, yet they were amazed with my paper snowflakes. But i guess it's not a skill acquired in an area where most people dont' own a pair of scissors . .. and it doesn't snow for that matter, either. I was introduced to the whole congregation at the wedding as the Peace Corps "doctor" . . . and i froze in fright thinking, no, don't tell them i'm a doctor!!! they will start coming to me with all kinds of crazy ailments, expecting to be healed, but luckily no such thing has happened since. whew.
another funny thing about the wedding is that the maid of honor starting breastfeeding her baby in front of the whole church during the service . .. and no one thought anything of it. it didn't surprise me, either, as i've become accustomed to the tanzanian mantra that if you're baby is hungry- you feed it. no matter where you are or what you are doing. hey, it's free food that's nutritious for your baby and you don't have to grow it . .. you have to use the most of it.
Well, i should be getting on with project research instead of typing away at the blog . .. but again, i appreciate your interest in my work here and that you're reading my blog :)
. .. and Happy Halloween!!!
It's funny, in the states i was known to be slow, patient, and infamously late to Everything! Here, I am considered a speed demon who doesn't like to be inefficient, I get impatient and hasty, and |I'm always early (compared to everyone else.) I'm also one of the few people that own a watch, so that could be another reason for my punctuality . .. but no one is ever in a hurry to get things done. It can be frustrating, when you are trying to get projects done, and people say, okay tomorrow. always tomorrow.
I am learning to adjust to the slow pace of village life . . . but am a little afraid of the reverse culture shock \i will experience upon return to the fast-paced, hectic and frenetic lifestyle of American life. The funny thing is that people refer to Americans as "ones who keep time" . .. time in village life, is just a matter of sun-up to sun-down . . . things happen when they happen.
I have started teaching English to primary school students. A class full of 90-some 5th grade level students crammed into tiny desks. Some share books because they don't have enough. Some can't see the board from where they sit, but they never ask me what i've written. i try to repeat things as much as possible and ask if they understand, and they all say yes because they are afraid to say no. \i ask if they have any questions and nobody raises a hand . .. though i'm sure there are questions out there. Corporal punishment is allowed in schools here, and the students are quiet, obedient, stay put, and dont' say much . .. but out of fear. they dont' understand the lessons in their books, they're far too advanced, but they pretend they do. i quizzed them in class with some true or false questions and they all answered "true" in unison to every question . .. i think you can see the problem in this. The students haven't had an english teacher for a few months as their teacher is away on pregnancy leave, so i'm just picking up where she left off . .. however, I learned quickly that i had to start from basic levels to even attempt to cover the lessons they are supposed to be completing. So, I've taught sentence construction, nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs, objects of a prepasition, tenses, etc. I'm trying to remember this grammar myself, as it's been years since i studied this . . .
sure, they can say "goodmorning teacher" and "education ees inspiration" because they have memorized these things.. . they can memorize and spit back out anything you tell them . . . but they don't understand why. i say in english"goodmorning students" and they say "fine thankyou, madaam." . . . so I try to explain that i am not asking how their morning is, just saying goodmorning . .. and the next day . . . again, "fine, thank you madaam." I wrote on the board "prepositional phrases" and they all said together in unison "prepositional phrases". .. because they think that's what they're supposed to do, but they don't know what it means. I just laugh, but it's not funny . .. I hope I can help them actually comprehend what I'm teaching. . . not just chew it up and spit it back out. The truly difficult thing is that their entrance exams into Secondary School are all in English . .. so if they dont' grasp it within the next two years, they many not make it on to continue (if they can afford the school fees anyway.)
I have been continuing to help with baby-weighing, and plan to start a nutrition and health group for mothers and pregnant women starting in November. I am in the midst of planning a village-wide testing for World Aids Day on December 1st . .. just trying to cut through all the red tape of getting the Doctors, Nurses, and equipment from the local hospital to come to our village dispensary. I am keeping my fingers crossed that this event will indeed happen, as I think our village is in need of it. I do have a good number of people that come to our PLWHA meetings, but i have a feeling there are many more who are unaware of their infections, or feel the stigma of the disease preventing them from joining the group.
I have had the unfortunate experience of already losing one of my favorite members of the group. He was a widower, to a wife I believe died from the same disease, and now leaves four children orphaned. One of whom, is a fierce netball player. She is one of my favorite students, and I hope to be able to take her on my Kilimanjaro Climb for orphaned girls which i'm in the midst of planning for next year. It is discouraging and emotionally difficult to lose friends so quickly, though Peace Corps has warned us that it is a problem we will all encounter. You can't help but feel guitly as well that maybe you could have done something to help . .. like maybe if we would have been able to get treatments delivered to the dispensary, he would still be here, but you can't blame yourself for a problem that is so widespread- all you can do is help spread the information and knowledge to prevent the disease from spreading, and help those infected live a fuller, healthier life. The funeral was difficult to attend, but the whole village showed up and they were happy to see me attend. They knew i had respected the man who was always smiling and helpful, and seemed to be making the most of his life. The people here grieve differently . .. only his children were crying. no one else, not even his mother or sister. we sat around in dark rooms, on mats on the floor, staring at our feet a lot, not saying much. We were all silent until some of the Bibis (older women), old enough to still bare the dots and hashmarks of tribal ritual scarification on their cheeks and foreheads, began to wail. They still sat there looking somber, but they wailed in great mourning. It was a moving experience, but very sad and emotional for me. I was glad that the next day, I was able to meet up with a fellow volunteer and watch movies with some German volunteers who have electricity. Though I'm adjusting and beginning to really love my village and its people, sometimes, you need to just get away . .. and crawl back to the comforts of home such as chocolate bars, silly movies, or music from back home.
there were two funerals that week in my village, but there was also a wedding. I was hoping for a traditional, tribal wedding where we all dance around a fire at night, but unfortunately, no such national geographic-type experience was to be had. Instead, they had rented a generator so that the pastor could speak for hours on a microphone, the keyboardist could play the same repetitive casio-beat for five hours straight, and there was one lone electric bulb hanging. . . though it was unnecessary as everyone left before nightfall. The night before, i had been asked to help bake the cake, and i obliged. It was me and four other old women calling me the "cake teacher" and literally raising their hands to ask questions. The funny thing is, it was my first time baking a cake without a conventional oven, so i had no idea what to expect. luckily for my peace corps issue cookbook, i had a recipe for yellow cake and instructions on how to make an oven out of two pots, two lids, some rocks and charcoal . .. and bam! we had ourselves some cake! it was pretty good, too ;) they asked me to help decorate it . .. so i obliged again. they handed me some shiny gift wrap paper and said, "mapambo," decorate. So . . . i cut up some paper snowflakes in shapes of flowers and hearts and butterflies . .. and they sat and stared in complete awe. These women can weave rugs and baskets out of straw and banana leaves, yet they were amazed with my paper snowflakes. But i guess it's not a skill acquired in an area where most people dont' own a pair of scissors . .. and it doesn't snow for that matter, either. I was introduced to the whole congregation at the wedding as the Peace Corps "doctor" . . . and i froze in fright thinking, no, don't tell them i'm a doctor!!! they will start coming to me with all kinds of crazy ailments, expecting to be healed, but luckily no such thing has happened since. whew.
another funny thing about the wedding is that the maid of honor starting breastfeeding her baby in front of the whole church during the service . .. and no one thought anything of it. it didn't surprise me, either, as i've become accustomed to the tanzanian mantra that if you're baby is hungry- you feed it. no matter where you are or what you are doing. hey, it's free food that's nutritious for your baby and you don't have to grow it . .. you have to use the most of it.
Well, i should be getting on with project research instead of typing away at the blog . .. but again, i appreciate your interest in my work here and that you're reading my blog :)
. .. and Happy Halloween!!!
Saturday, October 4, 2008
I don't know how to sum up the past few weeks in a blog entry, but I'll try . . .
I've written too much in my journal to post, so I will try to pick out a few highlights.
So, what have I been doing here with my time? Well, on a day to day basis, it changes, but I don't have a set 9 to 5 type job. I have been helping out with baby weighing and vaccinations at the local dispensary, holding meetings with the People Living with HIV/AIDS group to help start projects to defray the cost of transportation to town to receive treatment, and helping with excercise classes and playing netball with an HIV/AIDS group and with primary school children, drawing with kids, helping out with small things around the village, and I will hopefully begin teaching English and Health classes at the primary school as soon as the headteacher will give me the greenlight . . . but in Tanzania . .. everything gets post-poned for a while. This is not a good thing for someone with procrastination problems! However, I have been making a point to get out of my house every day and at least meet and talk to people about their lives, needs, or just "zungumza" or chit chat. Apparently, that's all you are supposed to do for the first three months.
I had to introduce myself to the entire village, over a microphone, as they gathered for a big village event welcoming visting teachers. They brought in a generator for the occasion. There was dancing and drumming by villagers, schoolchildren, and even the local witch doctor. They asked me to dance with them . .. I did, hesitantly and shyly, but then afterwards, people were congratulating me on my attempts :) They are very impressed by my trying to integrate into the culture .. . speaking the language, eating the food, wearing the local "kanga"s.
So, on a funny side note, I just want to talk about the clothes here. Secondhand clothes from the U.S. are sold here in the market for about thrift store prices. But the funny thing is that people will wear almost anything, regardless what it says in English. the beauty is, most people dont' find the humor in what's written on their chests or backs, but us English-speakers do :) I've seen little boys on bikes with Dead Kennedy's and Ramones t-shirts, an old man with a mickey mouse t-shirt, a man wearing a t-shirt quoting " Jennifer Benninger for Council" , Resurrection Basketball, etc.
I wonder if Jennifer Benninger knows there is someone still rallying for her . .. years after her election . .. halfway across the globe. And if Lauren, embroidered on the Resurrection Basketball pullover jacket, knows that my neighbor is now wearing her old basketball warm-ups.
What else . .. hmm . .. I have been meeting many other volunteers, from other organizations and other countries in my travels. I've befriended two courageous Italian women running an orphanage and dispensary in a nearby town, and two gargantually tall and very blonde german male volunteers teaching and assisting with solar power in a nearby village. I have met many people from the U.S. and Europe with various organizations and church missions. The best thing is trying to find a common language with the other foreignors you meet . .. sometimes its English, or Kiswahili (what you all know of it) or, as with the Italians, a crazy mix of both Italian and Swahili!
well, before I sign off I would like to copy my e-mail about the library project if I have not e-mailed it to you.
I am starting my first (informal) project- to start a small library. It is early yet, but I thought I better get the word out. Your donations would make a great Christmas present to me, and the village of Itimbo! :)If you have any used books (of any kind- children's books, instructional books, etc.) and any magazines you have already read (which I will probably read first for entertainment and to bone up on all the news I'm missing ;) I would greatly appreciate your donations. (Of course, monetary donations to purchase books in Swahili and supplemental items would be great, but I have not yet figured out the logistics of payment . .. I may set up a pay-pal account or Western Union later.)So, for now, if you are weeding through any old books and mags and don't know what to do with them, please send them my way!
The cheapest way to ship light things such as magazines would be in a padded envelope. Also, I have to pay a customs fee for each package that comes through, so if you are planning on donating books, it would be best to donate one package as a group and split the cost of shipping, rather than shipping a bunch of smaller packages. The less packages to clear the better, but I appreciate all donations! Also, as a tip, post-office workers and customs workers here are not the most trust-worthy, but they don't like to tamper with religious taboo. That being said, it helps to emblazon your packages with religious symbols such as crosses, stars of david, "Jesus loves You!" etc. Be creative! :)
The shipping address is:
Cristina LalliU.S. Peace CorpsP.O. Box 1505
Iringa, TanzaniaEast Africa
Thank you in advance for your help!
-Cristina
I've written too much in my journal to post, so I will try to pick out a few highlights.
So, what have I been doing here with my time? Well, on a day to day basis, it changes, but I don't have a set 9 to 5 type job. I have been helping out with baby weighing and vaccinations at the local dispensary, holding meetings with the People Living with HIV/AIDS group to help start projects to defray the cost of transportation to town to receive treatment, and helping with excercise classes and playing netball with an HIV/AIDS group and with primary school children, drawing with kids, helping out with small things around the village, and I will hopefully begin teaching English and Health classes at the primary school as soon as the headteacher will give me the greenlight . . . but in Tanzania . .. everything gets post-poned for a while. This is not a good thing for someone with procrastination problems! However, I have been making a point to get out of my house every day and at least meet and talk to people about their lives, needs, or just "zungumza" or chit chat. Apparently, that's all you are supposed to do for the first three months.
I had to introduce myself to the entire village, over a microphone, as they gathered for a big village event welcoming visting teachers. They brought in a generator for the occasion. There was dancing and drumming by villagers, schoolchildren, and even the local witch doctor. They asked me to dance with them . .. I did, hesitantly and shyly, but then afterwards, people were congratulating me on my attempts :) They are very impressed by my trying to integrate into the culture .. . speaking the language, eating the food, wearing the local "kanga"s.
So, on a funny side note, I just want to talk about the clothes here. Secondhand clothes from the U.S. are sold here in the market for about thrift store prices. But the funny thing is that people will wear almost anything, regardless what it says in English. the beauty is, most people dont' find the humor in what's written on their chests or backs, but us English-speakers do :) I've seen little boys on bikes with Dead Kennedy's and Ramones t-shirts, an old man with a mickey mouse t-shirt, a man wearing a t-shirt quoting " Jennifer Benninger for Council" , Resurrection Basketball, etc.
I wonder if Jennifer Benninger knows there is someone still rallying for her . .. years after her election . .. halfway across the globe. And if Lauren, embroidered on the Resurrection Basketball pullover jacket, knows that my neighbor is now wearing her old basketball warm-ups.
What else . .. hmm . .. I have been meeting many other volunteers, from other organizations and other countries in my travels. I've befriended two courageous Italian women running an orphanage and dispensary in a nearby town, and two gargantually tall and very blonde german male volunteers teaching and assisting with solar power in a nearby village. I have met many people from the U.S. and Europe with various organizations and church missions. The best thing is trying to find a common language with the other foreignors you meet . .. sometimes its English, or Kiswahili (what you all know of it) or, as with the Italians, a crazy mix of both Italian and Swahili!
well, before I sign off I would like to copy my e-mail about the library project if I have not e-mailed it to you.
I am starting my first (informal) project- to start a small library. It is early yet, but I thought I better get the word out. Your donations would make a great Christmas present to me, and the village of Itimbo! :)If you have any used books (of any kind- children's books, instructional books, etc.) and any magazines you have already read (which I will probably read first for entertainment and to bone up on all the news I'm missing ;) I would greatly appreciate your donations. (Of course, monetary donations to purchase books in Swahili and supplemental items would be great, but I have not yet figured out the logistics of payment . .. I may set up a pay-pal account or Western Union later.)So, for now, if you are weeding through any old books and mags and don't know what to do with them, please send them my way!
The cheapest way to ship light things such as magazines would be in a padded envelope. Also, I have to pay a customs fee for each package that comes through, so if you are planning on donating books, it would be best to donate one package as a group and split the cost of shipping, rather than shipping a bunch of smaller packages. The less packages to clear the better, but I appreciate all donations! Also, as a tip, post-office workers and customs workers here are not the most trust-worthy, but they don't like to tamper with religious taboo. That being said, it helps to emblazon your packages with religious symbols such as crosses, stars of david, "Jesus loves You!" etc. Be creative! :)
The shipping address is:
Cristina LalliU.S. Peace CorpsP.O. Box 1505
Iringa, TanzaniaEast Africa
Thank you in advance for your help!
-Cristina
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Here is another excerpt from my journal:
I'm on the upswing, moodwise. It may be because I painted my house with a cheery aqua and white theme, emblazoned with white flowers. I'm trying to make it as cute as possible . .. or as less like a garage-looking thing as possible. I've had more furniture made by the local fundi. yeah, custom furniture, in Africa . .. though it didn't really come out the way I drew it, it is still pretty safi. I've been riding my bike. I cooked my first meal all by myself on a charcoal stove- noodles with cashew sauce, and it turned out edible. I've reserved to reading in bed every night, and listening to a song or two on the ipod. I talk to my neighbors- they are all wonderful. I wash my clothes and dishes by hand. I've taken to drying eucalyuptus in my house to make it smell more pleasant and look more invviting. I've gathered a bouquet of eucalyptues, pine, wheat clippings, and pink blosssoms. I save my orange peels in a jam jar to make potporri. no kidding. I'm a regular volunteer Martha Stewart here . .. saving burnt matches, bottle caps, beer labels, sticks and banana leaves, matchboxes . . all in the name of recycled crafts. Mostly because, I don't know what to do with all my trash. I dont' want to burn it all, or just throw it in a pit as most peple do here. There is no trash pick-up or waste management in most of Tanzania . .. so you are forced to be resourceful . .. or creative.
The kids just ransacked me. They came over asking for drinking water . . . why, I don't know. I asked if they don't know how to boil water? Because that's what I do. And seriiously, kids here do everything. By the age of four, they can practically boil water, by the age of six, practically cook yourown meals, and by the age of 12, run your own chai and maandazi service.
They asked for pipi (candy), they always do. The previous PCV apologized in advance for this, as she gave them candy once, and they knocked on her door (an now my door) ever since. I dont' have any candy, so therfore, I haven't had to lie about not having any. I'm a terrible liar- even kids can pick up the truth, I'm that bad. They aked if I had markers. I did, however have crayons and an extra notebook. Thoutht it might be cute to decorate my desolate house with some child-like portraits and landscapes. They crowded around one piece of paper- all six of them, and happily drew flowers and squiggles all over the page.
Then, one by one, they said they would return later, taking off with a crayon and blank sheet each. They duped me.
Though, a few kids came back, returning the crayons. . . and a few drawings, but some are still hoarding the treasures. I can't really be mad at them, though, if they have one crayon each, as they don't have them at home. I brought the crayons for them, anyways.
The kids here are a breed apart. They have a manual labor hour at the primary school when kids crochet pencil cases, cart buckets of water on their heads for the chool, the teachers, and me. They cut down large branches of pine an sell them to builders to help pay for the fees of their national exams.
They helped me carry my luggage when I first arrived and helped me carry a bed and 4 chairs the other day from the local caprenter. If I were in the states, kids would be saying"who does
this lady think she is . . . waltzing into our town with her teva sandals and headlamp, expecting us to cart her sh*t around . .." but these kids didn't complain. In fact, they seemed happy to help. and of course, for nothing in return. This is village life. They play with used bicycle tires and sticks. I saw a scooter the other day made entirely out of wood . .. even the wheels. A dump truck made of wood and an od plastic jug.
The kids are amazing. the kids are sometimes like indentured servants. especially those whose parents died young (most likely of HIV-AIDS) and were orphaned early- taken in by aunts or uncles who treat them sometimes as their own, but usually like a servant. Many people here have asked me if I will employ a "housegirl" to help with cooking, washing, etc. They can't understand how I can possibly do this work myself because they have heard that in America, there are machines that do it for you . .. true, but still, they are amazed that I am not completely incompetent.
They are surprised when they see me riding my bike around "for exercise" . .. they sometimes laugh at this concept, or are very impressed. People here don't use their bicycles so much for exercise, but as a mode of transportation. sometimes biking the 20k up treacherous hill into town, coming back with huge loads tied to the back.
But, the kids again. The sit in the dark, cooking rooms, outside the courtyard, around wood-burning or charcoal-burning fires. cooking ugali or rice- never afraid of the heat like I am. The women here pick up pots off the flaming coals without oven mits, towels, potholders, but sometimes with newspaper, or usually, with their bare hands. I can't fathom how they do it.
But then again . .. I can't imagine a lot of the work they do here.
I'm on the upswing, moodwise. It may be because I painted my house with a cheery aqua and white theme, emblazoned with white flowers. I'm trying to make it as cute as possible . .. or as less like a garage-looking thing as possible. I've had more furniture made by the local fundi. yeah, custom furniture, in Africa . .. though it didn't really come out the way I drew it, it is still pretty safi. I've been riding my bike. I cooked my first meal all by myself on a charcoal stove- noodles with cashew sauce, and it turned out edible. I've reserved to reading in bed every night, and listening to a song or two on the ipod. I talk to my neighbors- they are all wonderful. I wash my clothes and dishes by hand. I've taken to drying eucalyuptus in my house to make it smell more pleasant and look more invviting. I've gathered a bouquet of eucalyptues, pine, wheat clippings, and pink blosssoms. I save my orange peels in a jam jar to make potporri. no kidding. I'm a regular volunteer Martha Stewart here . .. saving burnt matches, bottle caps, beer labels, sticks and banana leaves, matchboxes . . all in the name of recycled crafts. Mostly because, I don't know what to do with all my trash. I dont' want to burn it all, or just throw it in a pit as most peple do here. There is no trash pick-up or waste management in most of Tanzania . .. so you are forced to be resourceful . .. or creative.
The kids just ransacked me. They came over asking for drinking water . . . why, I don't know. I asked if they don't know how to boil water? Because that's what I do. And seriiously, kids here do everything. By the age of four, they can practically boil water, by the age of six, practically cook yourown meals, and by the age of 12, run your own chai and maandazi service.
They asked for pipi (candy), they always do. The previous PCV apologized in advance for this, as she gave them candy once, and they knocked on her door (an now my door) ever since. I dont' have any candy, so therfore, I haven't had to lie about not having any. I'm a terrible liar- even kids can pick up the truth, I'm that bad. They aked if I had markers. I did, however have crayons and an extra notebook. Thoutht it might be cute to decorate my desolate house with some child-like portraits and landscapes. They crowded around one piece of paper- all six of them, and happily drew flowers and squiggles all over the page.
Then, one by one, they said they would return later, taking off with a crayon and blank sheet each. They duped me.
Though, a few kids came back, returning the crayons. . . and a few drawings, but some are still hoarding the treasures. I can't really be mad at them, though, if they have one crayon each, as they don't have them at home. I brought the crayons for them, anyways.
The kids here are a breed apart. They have a manual labor hour at the primary school when kids crochet pencil cases, cart buckets of water on their heads for the chool, the teachers, and me. They cut down large branches of pine an sell them to builders to help pay for the fees of their national exams.
They helped me carry my luggage when I first arrived and helped me carry a bed and 4 chairs the other day from the local caprenter. If I were in the states, kids would be saying"who does
this lady think she is . . . waltzing into our town with her teva sandals and headlamp, expecting us to cart her sh*t around . .." but these kids didn't complain. In fact, they seemed happy to help. and of course, for nothing in return. This is village life. They play with used bicycle tires and sticks. I saw a scooter the other day made entirely out of wood . .. even the wheels. A dump truck made of wood and an od plastic jug.
The kids are amazing. the kids are sometimes like indentured servants. especially those whose parents died young (most likely of HIV-AIDS) and were orphaned early- taken in by aunts or uncles who treat them sometimes as their own, but usually like a servant. Many people here have asked me if I will employ a "housegirl" to help with cooking, washing, etc. They can't understand how I can possibly do this work myself because they have heard that in America, there are machines that do it for you . .. true, but still, they are amazed that I am not completely incompetent.
They are surprised when they see me riding my bike around "for exercise" . .. they sometimes laugh at this concept, or are very impressed. People here don't use their bicycles so much for exercise, but as a mode of transportation. sometimes biking the 20k up treacherous hill into town, coming back with huge loads tied to the back.
But, the kids again. The sit in the dark, cooking rooms, outside the courtyard, around wood-burning or charcoal-burning fires. cooking ugali or rice- never afraid of the heat like I am. The women here pick up pots off the flaming coals without oven mits, towels, potholders, but sometimes with newspaper, or usually, with their bare hands. I can't fathom how they do it.
But then again . .. I can't imagine a lot of the work they do here.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Kamwene!
Kamwene is the greeting in Kihehe (local tribal language of my village.)
I am now in iringa town, the closest big city to my village.
If you send me any new mail, please send it to this address:
my new address is:
p.o. box 1505
Iringa, Tanzania
East Africa
Do not send anything else to the p.o. box in Dar es Salaam!
Here is an excerpt from my journal:
. . . sitting outside in the almost-dark, dusk. defeated. I can't light a damn charcoal fire for the life of me. my new paka, or cat, Nyakipambo, whom i've inherited, is mocking me and my lack of success.
I went to church today. kanisa roman katoliki. it was cloudy, cold, and windy. My village is in witnter now, and the nights and mornings are freezing cold without heat or a winter jacket. my house is . .. modest. cement floors, tin roof . . . you can say there is"exposed brick" but not in the trendy, loft-style apartment kind of way. more like an unfinished garage. i need to paint it .. . badly.
i have no electricity or running water .. . but i'm rapidly adjusting to living in the "dark ages." i kind of like the lantern light and candlelight . . .
church was modest, to say the least. a mud-brick structure with wooden, worn shutters and a single raised cross marking it symbollically.
inside, just as simple. rickety, wooden benches and crumbling walls. an alter made up of a woodern table and chair, a podium, a tablecloth, and a single roughly-hewn wooden cross with an oddly disproportionate jesus . . . .
There were no missalettes, no holy water, no priest or alter boys or girls in flowy, embroidered robes, no communion. The mass, otherwise, was just like any other Catholic mass. stand up. sid town. kneel . . . on the floor, however, no padded kneelers. first reading, second reading, gospel, homily (which I couldn't follow in Kiswahili, but again, not much different otherwise in English.) The priest wore a plaid shirt, brown pants, and tennis shoes. He was missing his two front teeth . He had trouble during the readings, stumbling, perhaps because he was barely literate, or could not see well . .. or a combination of both.
The children were quiet, but squirmy. Some snacked on treats like kids at home, though not cheerios or fruit snacks . . but small, strange fruit that smelled like honey, or small ears of maize-like corn. They made me stand up and introduce myself to the entire congregation in swahili and an intro in Kihehe- the local tribal language. The children sang in the choir, and beat on drums and used those gourd-like shaky instruments to keep rhythm.
I witnessed a body, covered, on a stetcher being wheeled out of the local dispensary, with a trail of wailing women. An old woman got sick and died . .. in a matter of three days. they say she was ninety. A baby girl was born today. I went to visit, and they asked me to suggest a name, but I didnt' know what to say.
they all say I know Kiswahili and speak very well . . . but I feel like I don't know what's going on half the time . . . nitajaribu. i will try. nitajifunza. i will learn.
. .. .
daladalas. these are the prime mode of transportation in Tanzania. They are small, crowded, rickety, and uncomfortable little buses. They are usually emblazoned with pictures of Bob Marley or Jesus. There is usually a strange, poorly- written message in English on the rear window. My favorite is the " Jesus Power." However, I was too late to catch it, and had to settle for the "Saharazon."
I once got stuck on a daladala for about an hour and a half . . . in the humid heat of Dar es Salaam . . . packed to full capacity . . . each seat filled, plus babies on laps, and people crowded, standing in the aisles. I was one of those people. We were on our way to a movie theater. At my stature of 5', i'm unfortunately at arm-pit level to most everyone else. as you can imagine, this was not a pleasant ride. a fellow volunteer had problems with claustrophobia, and we had to practice breathing in and out deeply to make sure she wouldn't hyperventilate . .. yeah, this is all funny in hindsight . .. at the time, we laughed as well, because that's all you can do in that type of situation. daladalas- if you can ever avoid riding in one, please do. but if you want to come visit me in Tanzania, just be prepared . ;)
all is well here in Iringa . .. I will be taking a bus back to my village soon . .. and luckily, not a daladala :)
love you all,
cris
I am now in iringa town, the closest big city to my village.
If you send me any new mail, please send it to this address:
my new address is:
p.o. box 1505
Iringa, Tanzania
East Africa
Do not send anything else to the p.o. box in Dar es Salaam!
Here is an excerpt from my journal:
. . . sitting outside in the almost-dark, dusk. defeated. I can't light a damn charcoal fire for the life of me. my new paka, or cat, Nyakipambo, whom i've inherited, is mocking me and my lack of success.
I went to church today. kanisa roman katoliki. it was cloudy, cold, and windy. My village is in witnter now, and the nights and mornings are freezing cold without heat or a winter jacket. my house is . .. modest. cement floors, tin roof . . . you can say there is"exposed brick" but not in the trendy, loft-style apartment kind of way. more like an unfinished garage. i need to paint it .. . badly.
i have no electricity or running water .. . but i'm rapidly adjusting to living in the "dark ages." i kind of like the lantern light and candlelight . . .
church was modest, to say the least. a mud-brick structure with wooden, worn shutters and a single raised cross marking it symbollically.
inside, just as simple. rickety, wooden benches and crumbling walls. an alter made up of a woodern table and chair, a podium, a tablecloth, and a single roughly-hewn wooden cross with an oddly disproportionate jesus . . . .
There were no missalettes, no holy water, no priest or alter boys or girls in flowy, embroidered robes, no communion. The mass, otherwise, was just like any other Catholic mass. stand up. sid town. kneel . . . on the floor, however, no padded kneelers. first reading, second reading, gospel, homily (which I couldn't follow in Kiswahili, but again, not much different otherwise in English.) The priest wore a plaid shirt, brown pants, and tennis shoes. He was missing his two front teeth . He had trouble during the readings, stumbling, perhaps because he was barely literate, or could not see well . .. or a combination of both.
The children were quiet, but squirmy. Some snacked on treats like kids at home, though not cheerios or fruit snacks . . but small, strange fruit that smelled like honey, or small ears of maize-like corn. They made me stand up and introduce myself to the entire congregation in swahili and an intro in Kihehe- the local tribal language. The children sang in the choir, and beat on drums and used those gourd-like shaky instruments to keep rhythm.
I witnessed a body, covered, on a stetcher being wheeled out of the local dispensary, with a trail of wailing women. An old woman got sick and died . .. in a matter of three days. they say she was ninety. A baby girl was born today. I went to visit, and they asked me to suggest a name, but I didnt' know what to say.
they all say I know Kiswahili and speak very well . . . but I feel like I don't know what's going on half the time . . . nitajaribu. i will try. nitajifunza. i will learn.
. .. .
daladalas. these are the prime mode of transportation in Tanzania. They are small, crowded, rickety, and uncomfortable little buses. They are usually emblazoned with pictures of Bob Marley or Jesus. There is usually a strange, poorly- written message in English on the rear window. My favorite is the " Jesus Power." However, I was too late to catch it, and had to settle for the "Saharazon."
I once got stuck on a daladala for about an hour and a half . . . in the humid heat of Dar es Salaam . . . packed to full capacity . . . each seat filled, plus babies on laps, and people crowded, standing in the aisles. I was one of those people. We were on our way to a movie theater. At my stature of 5', i'm unfortunately at arm-pit level to most everyone else. as you can imagine, this was not a pleasant ride. a fellow volunteer had problems with claustrophobia, and we had to practice breathing in and out deeply to make sure she wouldn't hyperventilate . .. yeah, this is all funny in hindsight . .. at the time, we laughed as well, because that's all you can do in that type of situation. daladalas- if you can ever avoid riding in one, please do. but if you want to come visit me in Tanzania, just be prepared . ;)
all is well here in Iringa . .. I will be taking a bus back to my village soon . .. and luckily, not a daladala :)
love you all,
cris
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Safi sana . . .
that means, very nice . .. or fresh .. . or clean.
I will soon post some excerpts from my journal to make things a bit more interesting, but first I just want to write about a few exciting highlights from the past week and of the two weeks to come.
I shadowed a current volunteer in the Kilimanjaro region (way north, almost bordering Kenya) and fell in love with that area. My host volunteer was great, her house was perched up on a mountain where you could see an amazing view of her village and school, and on a clear day, you can see traces of Mt. Kilimanjaro. I am definitely returning to visit some time . .. and I have gathered info on climbing kili. It takes about 6 days, and is a bit expensive, but it would be well worth it for the stories. If anyone is interested in doing this with me, let me know!
I found out (today) where I will be placed. I will be in the Mufindi region, near Iringa. I will be replacing a volunteer who happened to be in Dar today, so she told me all about the post. Okay, little did I know about the varied climate of Tanzania before I came here. It is ridiculously hot and humid today in Dar. But, the area in which I will be placed is near mountains, in the Southern Highlands. It is relatively cool . .. especially for Africa. In the winter months, it can dip down to the thirties and forties in the evenings! I did not pack for this?! I will have to buy some second-hand sweatshirts, etc. . . as I packed mostly for the type of climate . . that, you know . .. you would expect in Africa. Apparently, the village is really small and the people are incredibly friendly. It is dotted with pine and eucalyptus trees?! There is no electricity or running water- but there is a water pump nearby and the possibility for some solar power. I will be looking further into that . ..
I will be living on the schoolgrounds of a primary school- developing health programs with the school, and also, with a local health dispensary.
I asked the current PCV what she thought of my idea to focus on pre-natal care, infant care, and nutrition (especially for women at risk or living with HIV/AIDS) and I was pleased to see her face light up in agreement- saying that she had already discussed this as a need with her village but did not have enough time to add it to her current projects. More to come on what I will actually be doing once I get to my site and speak with the village officers . ..
I met another volunteer who is living in Iringa, who knows some women from an Italian NGO working in Iringa with orphans other health programs. She was speaking a mix of Kiswahili and throwing in some Italian, so immediately, I had to ask her who she was speaking with. She gave me her contact info to meet with them at site, and also informed me that this Italian woman keeps a large vat of olive oil in her home . .. which I have not been able to find here! I will definitely need to befriend this woman . . . for many reasons.
So, tonight we are in Dar es Salaam, having dinner with our interim country director. Tomorrow, we head back to our host families and spend another week taking our final written and tech exams, etc. On August 20th- we have our swearing-in ceremony . .. and the next three days after that are dedicated to moving to our sites! crazy . . . or in kiswahili . .. chizi!
We went to a bona-fide movie theater last night to see the Batman Dark Knight movie, and there was popcorn and soda . .. and I forgot for a while that I was in Africa. On the cabride back to our hostel, we met a 19 year old girl from Denmark who was spending her last night in Tz, with her father visiting, before she returned home from a 4-month volunteer stint. She said she was sad to leave so early, and had an excellent experience here. I was amazed at how many young Europeans travel and volunteer here in what they call "gap year" between high school and starting college . .. I feel as if Americans should adapt this idea . .. yet I can't imagine most 19 year old Americans being that independent. I'm almost 10 years older than this girl, and still had worries before getting here . .. and though I feel very safe here, it is far from home, and is still difficult.
Thank you all, again, for reading this blog and caring about what's going on . . . I will try to keep it real and interesting.
I love and miss you all . . . and Mom, thank you for the package!!! :)
love, cristina
I will soon post some excerpts from my journal to make things a bit more interesting, but first I just want to write about a few exciting highlights from the past week and of the two weeks to come.
I shadowed a current volunteer in the Kilimanjaro region (way north, almost bordering Kenya) and fell in love with that area. My host volunteer was great, her house was perched up on a mountain where you could see an amazing view of her village and school, and on a clear day, you can see traces of Mt. Kilimanjaro. I am definitely returning to visit some time . .. and I have gathered info on climbing kili. It takes about 6 days, and is a bit expensive, but it would be well worth it for the stories. If anyone is interested in doing this with me, let me know!
I found out (today) where I will be placed. I will be in the Mufindi region, near Iringa. I will be replacing a volunteer who happened to be in Dar today, so she told me all about the post. Okay, little did I know about the varied climate of Tanzania before I came here. It is ridiculously hot and humid today in Dar. But, the area in which I will be placed is near mountains, in the Southern Highlands. It is relatively cool . .. especially for Africa. In the winter months, it can dip down to the thirties and forties in the evenings! I did not pack for this?! I will have to buy some second-hand sweatshirts, etc. . . as I packed mostly for the type of climate . . that, you know . .. you would expect in Africa. Apparently, the village is really small and the people are incredibly friendly. It is dotted with pine and eucalyptus trees?! There is no electricity or running water- but there is a water pump nearby and the possibility for some solar power. I will be looking further into that . ..
I will be living on the schoolgrounds of a primary school- developing health programs with the school, and also, with a local health dispensary.
I asked the current PCV what she thought of my idea to focus on pre-natal care, infant care, and nutrition (especially for women at risk or living with HIV/AIDS) and I was pleased to see her face light up in agreement- saying that she had already discussed this as a need with her village but did not have enough time to add it to her current projects. More to come on what I will actually be doing once I get to my site and speak with the village officers . ..
I met another volunteer who is living in Iringa, who knows some women from an Italian NGO working in Iringa with orphans other health programs. She was speaking a mix of Kiswahili and throwing in some Italian, so immediately, I had to ask her who she was speaking with. She gave me her contact info to meet with them at site, and also informed me that this Italian woman keeps a large vat of olive oil in her home . .. which I have not been able to find here! I will definitely need to befriend this woman . . . for many reasons.
So, tonight we are in Dar es Salaam, having dinner with our interim country director. Tomorrow, we head back to our host families and spend another week taking our final written and tech exams, etc. On August 20th- we have our swearing-in ceremony . .. and the next three days after that are dedicated to moving to our sites! crazy . . . or in kiswahili . .. chizi!
We went to a bona-fide movie theater last night to see the Batman Dark Knight movie, and there was popcorn and soda . .. and I forgot for a while that I was in Africa. On the cabride back to our hostel, we met a 19 year old girl from Denmark who was spending her last night in Tz, with her father visiting, before she returned home from a 4-month volunteer stint. She said she was sad to leave so early, and had an excellent experience here. I was amazed at how many young Europeans travel and volunteer here in what they call "gap year" between high school and starting college . .. I feel as if Americans should adapt this idea . .. yet I can't imagine most 19 year old Americans being that independent. I'm almost 10 years older than this girl, and still had worries before getting here . .. and though I feel very safe here, it is far from home, and is still difficult.
Thank you all, again, for reading this blog and caring about what's going on . . . I will try to keep it real and interesting.
I love and miss you all . . . and Mom, thank you for the package!!! :)
love, cristina
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Shagalabagala
Okay, the title today is one of my favorite words in Kiswahili and it means chaos, or disorganization . . . often times here I find myself in mass "shagalabagala" . .. such an appropriate word :)
So, I have had an eventful past two weeks. Mikumi National park was amazing. . . I stuck my head out the dirty bus window, let the wind blow through my hair, and took picture after picture of elephants, zebras, hippos, impalas, etc. . . but alas, no lions or leopards to be found. They were all hiding somewhere . . . I did, however, climb part of a 500 year old baobob tree, and I have a picture to prove it . .. but of course, can't upload it just yet.
I got really sick the week upon return . . in fact, many of us did, probably from some under-boiled water or something we injested on the road or at the motel (which, by Tanzanian standards, was extra fancy!) it had showers!!! However . .. freezing cold showers, which I would prefer my bucket bath over that anyday.
I am happy to say that today, I am feeling healthy- energy and apetite are back to normal! whew, I was a little worried when I didn't want to eat anything . .. that is very unlike me, very.
I got my hands on some red wine! at mikumi . .. though it was really acidic, came out of a box, and was reminiscent of "church wine" . . .
Cheese, on the other hand, is still nowhere to be found :( A really understanding volunteer who has been here for a year offered to get us some chocolate from Dar es Salaam, and he came back with a twix bar for me in exchange for 1000 shilingi .. . and my god, was it heaven. even though, I don't ever eat those in the states, it was like dreaming . .. two minutes of chocolate and caramel bliss.
seriously, you never know what you're missing until it is extremely hard to find and way out of reach.
there are rumors that we may be getting ice cream next time we visit dar .. . and we are all counting the days.
So, I have so much to talk about and so little time left at the internet cafe, so here goes:
the following weeks I will_
go to Nane Nane- the country-wide agricultural fair which we will be attending in Morogoro
after that, I will be shadowing a volunteer for an entire week, though I dont' know where yet
after that, we are in Dar es Salaam for our site announcements!
I can't wait to find out . .. I'm just itching with curiousity . . .
I will be taking my final exams soon . . . so far I have gotten b averages on my midterms (not unlike college . . .) but I hope to improve for my finals.
I will keep you all updated, and please, keep the emails, messages, letters and phone calls coming!
I appreciate any and all support, really!!!! It's what keeps me going on my down days . . .
If you would like to contact me or send a letter/package, here are my contacts:
Cristina Lalli
U.S. Peace Corps Tanzania
P.O. Box 9123
Dar es Salaam, Tanzania
East Africa
I will let you all know my permanent address as soon as I get it, but this one works for now.
I love and miss you all.
Kwa herini!
love,
cristina
So, I have had an eventful past two weeks. Mikumi National park was amazing. . . I stuck my head out the dirty bus window, let the wind blow through my hair, and took picture after picture of elephants, zebras, hippos, impalas, etc. . . but alas, no lions or leopards to be found. They were all hiding somewhere . . . I did, however, climb part of a 500 year old baobob tree, and I have a picture to prove it . .. but of course, can't upload it just yet.
I got really sick the week upon return . . in fact, many of us did, probably from some under-boiled water or something we injested on the road or at the motel (which, by Tanzanian standards, was extra fancy!) it had showers!!! However . .. freezing cold showers, which I would prefer my bucket bath over that anyday.
I am happy to say that today, I am feeling healthy- energy and apetite are back to normal! whew, I was a little worried when I didn't want to eat anything . .. that is very unlike me, very.
I got my hands on some red wine! at mikumi . .. though it was really acidic, came out of a box, and was reminiscent of "church wine" . . .
Cheese, on the other hand, is still nowhere to be found :( A really understanding volunteer who has been here for a year offered to get us some chocolate from Dar es Salaam, and he came back with a twix bar for me in exchange for 1000 shilingi .. . and my god, was it heaven. even though, I don't ever eat those in the states, it was like dreaming . .. two minutes of chocolate and caramel bliss.
seriously, you never know what you're missing until it is extremely hard to find and way out of reach.
there are rumors that we may be getting ice cream next time we visit dar .. . and we are all counting the days.
So, I have so much to talk about and so little time left at the internet cafe, so here goes:
the following weeks I will_
go to Nane Nane- the country-wide agricultural fair which we will be attending in Morogoro
after that, I will be shadowing a volunteer for an entire week, though I dont' know where yet
after that, we are in Dar es Salaam for our site announcements!
I can't wait to find out . .. I'm just itching with curiousity . . .
I will be taking my final exams soon . . . so far I have gotten b averages on my midterms (not unlike college . . .) but I hope to improve for my finals.
I will keep you all updated, and please, keep the emails, messages, letters and phone calls coming!
I appreciate any and all support, really!!!! It's what keeps me going on my down days . . .
If you would like to contact me or send a letter/package, here are my contacts:
Cristina Lalli
U.S. Peace Corps Tanzania
P.O. Box 9123
Dar es Salaam, Tanzania
East Africa
I will let you all know my permanent address as soon as I get it, but this one works for now.
I love and miss you all.
Kwa herini!
love,
cristina
Friday, July 18, 2008
Tumbo na Twiga
The title today means "elephant and giraffe"
Mikumi National Park . . . I am so excited . . . we leave tomorrow morning, and I can't wait. We will be taking two safari trips- one tomorrow evening and one sunday morning. According to Lonely Planet and Globetrotter guide books, this is a good season to go . .. we should be able to spot lions, leopards, elephants, zebras, hippos, giraffes, etc. . .. I really hope we do. I have my camera batteries charged and ready to go.
Contrary to what you may be hoping to hear, I will unfortunately not be wearing an all khaki outfit and pyth helmet, riding in an open-air jeep, toting a giant rifle and shooting exotic game . .. though I just finished reading "Out of Africa" and have a secret desire to be like Karen Blixen . . . living on her own in Africa, running a coffee plantation, and shooting random lions (only because they were eating the village cattle.) So, sorry guys, I can't bring back any zebra skin rugs for you . . .
I hope to have pictures posted at some point . . . perhaps in a few weeks when we are in Dar es Salaam- I here there are internet cafes with relatively speedy connections there.
We just finished our mid-exam week. We had a two-hour written exam and an oral proficiency exam. I haven't had to take tests in four years, so I forgot how anxious I can be. Honestly, I think I did fine, but we'll get the results on Monday.
one of my favorite things here is brushing my teeth outside in our courtyard under the moon and stars . .. on a clear night, you can see thousands of stars- there is virtually no light pollution here.
Castle milk stout is another favorite . .. it's the African equivalent to guinness, very tasty.
The children here are amazing . . . they never cry, they are always laughing, smiling, and playing soccer barefoot . . . with balls they make themselves out of rags sewn together. I feel like I've already written this before, but maybe it was just in my journal.
The other day, we went to visit a traditional healer, or "medicine man" to see how traditional, spiritual healing is still practiced in conjunction with modern medicine. The meeting was short but interesting. Afterwards, school children in the village swarmed around us . .. I don't think they are used to seeing a whole gaggle of Americans . .. and they just stared and waited for us to say something to them . . . so . .. we taught them "the hokey pokey" in English and some Swahili . .. we taught them to hula-hoop with the used bicycle tires that they are always playing with . .. and we played soccer with them. I kicked the ball to one child, and before I knew it, 20 kids were swarmed around me, only kicking the ball to me . .. as if I was the goalie . . and I was exhausted after 10 minutes . .. besides, playing soccer is a little difficult in a skirt (which we are required to wear at all times unless at home or on the weekends.) I hope that soon, when I am placed at site, I can continue to play with the enthusiastic children . .. but teach them something valuable at the same time.
Mikumi National Park . . . I am so excited . . . we leave tomorrow morning, and I can't wait. We will be taking two safari trips- one tomorrow evening and one sunday morning. According to Lonely Planet and Globetrotter guide books, this is a good season to go . .. we should be able to spot lions, leopards, elephants, zebras, hippos, giraffes, etc. . .. I really hope we do. I have my camera batteries charged and ready to go.
Contrary to what you may be hoping to hear, I will unfortunately not be wearing an all khaki outfit and pyth helmet, riding in an open-air jeep, toting a giant rifle and shooting exotic game . .. though I just finished reading "Out of Africa" and have a secret desire to be like Karen Blixen . . . living on her own in Africa, running a coffee plantation, and shooting random lions (only because they were eating the village cattle.) So, sorry guys, I can't bring back any zebra skin rugs for you . . .
I hope to have pictures posted at some point . . . perhaps in a few weeks when we are in Dar es Salaam- I here there are internet cafes with relatively speedy connections there.
We just finished our mid-exam week. We had a two-hour written exam and an oral proficiency exam. I haven't had to take tests in four years, so I forgot how anxious I can be. Honestly, I think I did fine, but we'll get the results on Monday.
one of my favorite things here is brushing my teeth outside in our courtyard under the moon and stars . .. on a clear night, you can see thousands of stars- there is virtually no light pollution here.
Castle milk stout is another favorite . .. it's the African equivalent to guinness, very tasty.
The children here are amazing . . . they never cry, they are always laughing, smiling, and playing soccer barefoot . . . with balls they make themselves out of rags sewn together. I feel like I've already written this before, but maybe it was just in my journal.
The other day, we went to visit a traditional healer, or "medicine man" to see how traditional, spiritual healing is still practiced in conjunction with modern medicine. The meeting was short but interesting. Afterwards, school children in the village swarmed around us . .. I don't think they are used to seeing a whole gaggle of Americans . .. and they just stared and waited for us to say something to them . . . so . .. we taught them "the hokey pokey" in English and some Swahili . .. we taught them to hula-hoop with the used bicycle tires that they are always playing with . .. and we played soccer with them. I kicked the ball to one child, and before I knew it, 20 kids were swarmed around me, only kicking the ball to me . .. as if I was the goalie . . and I was exhausted after 10 minutes . .. besides, playing soccer is a little difficult in a skirt (which we are required to wear at all times unless at home or on the weekends.) I hope that soon, when I am placed at site, I can continue to play with the enthusiastic children . .. but teach them something valuable at the same time.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Kitimoto
The title today means "hot seat" . . . but it also means pork . . . I don't know, don't ask why. We have been doing "kitimoto" the past few mornings at kiswahili lessons, in which we have to sit in the hot seat for 5 minutes while our instructors ask us questions on the spot in kiswahili. I didn't do so well today as I had to describe what my family does and I couldn't think of the words for "industrial design" and "finance" . . . not exactly words I'm using every day here . . .
oh, and about the pork thing, I don't know, but apparently if you order barbecued pork at a restaurant here, it's also called "kitimoto" ;)
It's funny how when you are in a foreign country you tend to fall back on whatever foreign language you know- although it is nowhere near the language which you are supposed to be speaking. mOst of us volunteers know at least a bit of another foreign language- many have sudied abroad, or lived or traveled abroad, and most have had some foreign language experience. This being said, many of us are throwing in German, Spanish, Italian, etc. wherever we can't think of the Swahili word for something . . .especially articles! We do this completely subconsciously, and it's pretty hilarious because we'd be way better off if we just threw in English. Most people here know some English- especially those who have attended secondary school. But the thing that throws me off completely, is that my foreign language experience happens to be in Italian and I have visited Italy as soon as last summer. This wouldn't be a problem except that there are strangely some words in Kiswahili that also exist in Italian . . . but in a completely different context.
for example:
Kiswahili: Italian:
mia- means 100 mia, means my or mine
tosha- means full toscia, means cough or cold
tuta, means "we will" tutta, means all or whole
tena, means again tena, means "to have"
. .. and so it seems as if I am in a strange dream in which people are speaking a language which I recognize and which I am familiar with, but I don't understand the meaning.
crazy.
so, here are some interesting facts about Tanzania:
The president is Jakaya Kikwete
The Swahili word for president is "rais" pronounced like rice
The word for rice is "wali", but when it's uncooked its "mchele"
Most Tanzanians are not fond of George Bush, but they love Barak Obama
Many people here are named "Baraka" which means "blessings, or prosperity"
Most people hope Obama gets elected, but they dont' believe Americans will vote for a black president ( I hope to prove them wrong, but we'll see come November .. . and we'll see if that absentee ballot ever gets here)
Tanzanians pronounce it "Tan.zah.KNEE.a" when speaking Kiswahili, but pronounce it "Tan. ZAY. nia. when speaking to English speakers.
okay, I hope you learned something today from my rantings .. . I am doing well here and miss you all very much.
kwa heri,
cristina :)
oh, and about the pork thing, I don't know, but apparently if you order barbecued pork at a restaurant here, it's also called "kitimoto" ;)
It's funny how when you are in a foreign country you tend to fall back on whatever foreign language you know- although it is nowhere near the language which you are supposed to be speaking. mOst of us volunteers know at least a bit of another foreign language- many have sudied abroad, or lived or traveled abroad, and most have had some foreign language experience. This being said, many of us are throwing in German, Spanish, Italian, etc. wherever we can't think of the Swahili word for something . . .especially articles! We do this completely subconsciously, and it's pretty hilarious because we'd be way better off if we just threw in English. Most people here know some English- especially those who have attended secondary school. But the thing that throws me off completely, is that my foreign language experience happens to be in Italian and I have visited Italy as soon as last summer. This wouldn't be a problem except that there are strangely some words in Kiswahili that also exist in Italian . . . but in a completely different context.
for example:
Kiswahili: Italian:
mia- means 100 mia, means my or mine
tosha- means full toscia, means cough or cold
tuta, means "we will" tutta, means all or whole
tena, means again tena, means "to have"
. .. and so it seems as if I am in a strange dream in which people are speaking a language which I recognize and which I am familiar with, but I don't understand the meaning.
crazy.
so, here are some interesting facts about Tanzania:
The president is Jakaya Kikwete
The Swahili word for president is "rais" pronounced like rice
The word for rice is "wali", but when it's uncooked its "mchele"
Most Tanzanians are not fond of George Bush, but they love Barak Obama
Many people here are named "Baraka" which means "blessings, or prosperity"
Most people hope Obama gets elected, but they dont' believe Americans will vote for a black president ( I hope to prove them wrong, but we'll see come November .. . and we'll see if that absentee ballot ever gets here)
Tanzanians pronounce it "Tan.zah.KNEE.a" when speaking Kiswahili, but pronounce it "Tan. ZAY. nia. when speaking to English speakers.
okay, I hope you learned something today from my rantings .. . I am doing well here and miss you all very much.
kwa heri,
cristina :)
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Nzuri sana
. . . the title means very well, very fine, very good, very nice . .. etc.
So all is going well here, except for a few minor communication frustrations with home. I can only e-mail here, once every so many days by hiking into town, if and when a computer is free and working I can send e-mail or post blog entries. My parents are trying to sell my car and don't have my original power of attorney form, which I swore I gave to them . . . and so I have to figure out a way to get a hold of them. cell phones are available here, but I don't have a way just yet of purchasing one. I will hopefully have one by my 8th week here, but in the interim I can buy phone cards and possibly use someone else's phone (i.e. host mother.)
I like the feeling of not having a phone with me at all times, but it would be nice to make emergency calls or quick text messages, so I will look into getting one sooner than my 8th week.
so, onto more interesting matters . . . the language is still not coming to me easily. I am learning . . . albeit slowly . .. but I guess that goes for everyone here. It's intimidating that we only have about 7 weeks left before going to site, and should be somewhat proficient by then.
my favorite things here are the random happenings that make me laugh, smile, or shake my head because there is nothing else to say about it . .. for example, my group gathers for language training in an un-finished addition to one of our host family's houses. Their chickens are constantly coming in and out of the room, and sometimes we have to chase them out.
A few volunteers and I hiked into town for a beer . . . and realized that they always ask you if you would like it hot or cold . . . I am wondering if anyone actually prefers it hot? I have been served a warm beer here unfortunately . . . because I was too novice to realize that you have to specify "bia baridi" . . . NOT MOTO!
Another charming moment was when a friend and i went to use what we thought were the bathrooms behind the bar and almost walked into a room with a goat tethered to the wall . . . what it was doing there, I haven't a clue . . .
so, some of you may wonder what exactly the bathrooms are like here . . .. let's just say that they don't have "western-style" seats . . .. they are more like the "hole in the ground' type . .. and the fancy ones are the "porcelain hole in the ground" types . . .amazingly, you get used to using these . .. and you ALWAYS remember to byotp and hand sanitizer . . .
do I have electricity? yes, I am spoiled and have electricity and a t.v. but no stove at my host mother's house . .. some volunteers don't have it, and use lanterns at night . . .
do I have running water? no. but, we have a pump in our courtyard.
how do I bathe? tanzanians take two baths a day, so now I do the same. one in the morning, and one at night. this consists of a "bucket bath" which is what it sounds like. A big bucket of heated water and my soap and shampoo, and a pitcher to dump it over my head. It's really not bad at all . . .
I hand washed clothes today and that took forever . . . but people here tend to think that americans have no concept of hand-washing clothes because we have washing machines. my dada laughed at me as I hand scrubbed my clothes . .. and I thought I did a fine job.
well, I better go as the line for the "interneti' is getting longer, and I have to get some lunch. oh, did I mention we're going to Mikumi National Park in a few weeks? I am really, really excited about that . . . I miss ya'll back home.
love,
cris
So all is going well here, except for a few minor communication frustrations with home. I can only e-mail here, once every so many days by hiking into town, if and when a computer is free and working I can send e-mail or post blog entries. My parents are trying to sell my car and don't have my original power of attorney form, which I swore I gave to them . . . and so I have to figure out a way to get a hold of them. cell phones are available here, but I don't have a way just yet of purchasing one. I will hopefully have one by my 8th week here, but in the interim I can buy phone cards and possibly use someone else's phone (i.e. host mother.)
I like the feeling of not having a phone with me at all times, but it would be nice to make emergency calls or quick text messages, so I will look into getting one sooner than my 8th week.
so, onto more interesting matters . . . the language is still not coming to me easily. I am learning . . . albeit slowly . .. but I guess that goes for everyone here. It's intimidating that we only have about 7 weeks left before going to site, and should be somewhat proficient by then.
my favorite things here are the random happenings that make me laugh, smile, or shake my head because there is nothing else to say about it . .. for example, my group gathers for language training in an un-finished addition to one of our host family's houses. Their chickens are constantly coming in and out of the room, and sometimes we have to chase them out.
A few volunteers and I hiked into town for a beer . . . and realized that they always ask you if you would like it hot or cold . . . I am wondering if anyone actually prefers it hot? I have been served a warm beer here unfortunately . . . because I was too novice to realize that you have to specify "bia baridi" . . . NOT MOTO!
Another charming moment was when a friend and i went to use what we thought were the bathrooms behind the bar and almost walked into a room with a goat tethered to the wall . . . what it was doing there, I haven't a clue . . .
so, some of you may wonder what exactly the bathrooms are like here . . .. let's just say that they don't have "western-style" seats . . .. they are more like the "hole in the ground' type . .. and the fancy ones are the "porcelain hole in the ground" types . . .amazingly, you get used to using these . .. and you ALWAYS remember to byotp and hand sanitizer . . .
do I have electricity? yes, I am spoiled and have electricity and a t.v. but no stove at my host mother's house . .. some volunteers don't have it, and use lanterns at night . . .
do I have running water? no. but, we have a pump in our courtyard.
how do I bathe? tanzanians take two baths a day, so now I do the same. one in the morning, and one at night. this consists of a "bucket bath" which is what it sounds like. A big bucket of heated water and my soap and shampoo, and a pitcher to dump it over my head. It's really not bad at all . . .
I hand washed clothes today and that took forever . . . but people here tend to think that americans have no concept of hand-washing clothes because we have washing machines. my dada laughed at me as I hand scrubbed my clothes . .. and I thought I did a fine job.
well, I better go as the line for the "interneti' is getting longer, and I have to get some lunch. oh, did I mention we're going to Mikumi National Park in a few weeks? I am really, really excited about that . . . I miss ya'll back home.
love,
cris
Sunday, June 22, 2008
I'm here, I'm here!
Hamjambo marafiki!
That is, hello my friends, in Kiswahili :)
I am starting this blog a little late, my objective was to have an entry before I left for the Peace Corps to chronicle my pre-departure feelings, but I think you all know how I felt. Excited, nervous, hesitant, anxious, just about everything . . ..
so now I am here. I am in the Kilosa district, living with a host family, painfully learning kiswahili, eating the food, learning the customs and culture, and I still don't know how I feel. At times I am incredibly excited and at others I am discouraged and homesick. Mostly, I was only homesick when I was literally sick with the flu- a four day fiasco of a temperature of 38.5 degrees centigrade- about 101 fahrenheit, i believe. luckily, i am much better now and enjoying things much, much more! the food here is really good, and yes, i do eat. a lot. there is a strong Indian influene in parts of Tanzania, and it comes through in some of their clothing, music, and food. my favorite dish, so far, is the jageri (sp?) or peas cooked in Indian spices and eaten with rice . . . mmmm. Another one of my favorites is banana stew- yes, banana stew. and no, they don't say banana here, they call them "ndizi" The bananas are cooked to almost a potato-like texture and made with a sauce of tomato, onions, spices, and chicken or beef.
It may not sound appetizing, but I assure you, it is.
So, I am adjusting to being called a "mzungu" by many of the neighborhood children and many adults as well. Sometimes they yell it at you from across the road, when you think they can't see you, but, when you're white, people around here can spot you from a mile away- and word travels fast in small villages. The word "mzungu" is the kiswahili word for white person, or foreignor, or literally "one who travels in circles." I find the latter to be rather appropriate, and funny. It's hard to be singled out and called out, but people here don't yell it in a mean or patronizing way, it's just that they want your attention and want to meet you because some may never have seen a white person before, especially the children. Some children are afraid of us. We have had children run away screaming and crying, either because they think we're doctors, or they are afraid and don't know what's wrong with us, why we look this way. It's a humbling thing, really.
okay, more to come soon, and hopefully pictures too! it's beautiful here, really. palm trees and mountains, very "kumpendeza" or, pretty :)
Kwa heri!!!
That is, hello my friends, in Kiswahili :)
I am starting this blog a little late, my objective was to have an entry before I left for the Peace Corps to chronicle my pre-departure feelings, but I think you all know how I felt. Excited, nervous, hesitant, anxious, just about everything . . ..
so now I am here. I am in the Kilosa district, living with a host family, painfully learning kiswahili, eating the food, learning the customs and culture, and I still don't know how I feel. At times I am incredibly excited and at others I am discouraged and homesick. Mostly, I was only homesick when I was literally sick with the flu- a four day fiasco of a temperature of 38.5 degrees centigrade- about 101 fahrenheit, i believe. luckily, i am much better now and enjoying things much, much more! the food here is really good, and yes, i do eat. a lot. there is a strong Indian influene in parts of Tanzania, and it comes through in some of their clothing, music, and food. my favorite dish, so far, is the jageri (sp?) or peas cooked in Indian spices and eaten with rice . . . mmmm. Another one of my favorites is banana stew- yes, banana stew. and no, they don't say banana here, they call them "ndizi" The bananas are cooked to almost a potato-like texture and made with a sauce of tomato, onions, spices, and chicken or beef.
It may not sound appetizing, but I assure you, it is.
So, I am adjusting to being called a "mzungu" by many of the neighborhood children and many adults as well. Sometimes they yell it at you from across the road, when you think they can't see you, but, when you're white, people around here can spot you from a mile away- and word travels fast in small villages. The word "mzungu" is the kiswahili word for white person, or foreignor, or literally "one who travels in circles." I find the latter to be rather appropriate, and funny. It's hard to be singled out and called out, but people here don't yell it in a mean or patronizing way, it's just that they want your attention and want to meet you because some may never have seen a white person before, especially the children. Some children are afraid of us. We have had children run away screaming and crying, either because they think we're doctors, or they are afraid and don't know what's wrong with us, why we look this way. It's a humbling thing, really.
okay, more to come soon, and hopefully pictures too! it's beautiful here, really. palm trees and mountains, very "kumpendeza" or, pretty :)
Kwa heri!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
