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

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