Two Truths And A Lie, American News Version

Halfway through training we got to go to a beach resort, on the Indian Ocean, owned by an RPCV, for a weekend.  The trip was practically free of charge, and we even had warm showers and western toilets.  When we arrived we literally ran into the ocean and jumped waves at sunset. The next morning we all were salivating at the mouths because there were scrambled eggs, peanut butter, toast, and coffee waiting for us in the dining hall.  During the weekend we played ultimate frisbee on the beach (health versus environment volunteers), kayaked at sunrise, ate snickers bars, took naps in the hammock with monkeys, played banana grams in Kiswahili, and had American food and beer all day and night.  Rough life, I know.  It was an absolutely beautiful place, and idyllic for recharging our batteries for the second half of training.  I think it’s safe to say our program facilitators spoil us by including an Indian Ocean Beach Vacation into our training.    

The strangest part of the trip was hearing about American news for the first time since we arrived.  We learned about the Joe Paterno shenanigans, that Missouri was leaving the Big 12, Herman Cain was out of the presidential race, and Gaddafi died.  But knowing and not knowing American news can make 2 Truths, 1 Lie a really fun game.  I’m pretty sure I could believe anything anyone told me about American news because I know NOTHING! 


(This does not give you free reign to test my gullibility-David, Brett and Adam.)  

 Chuck and Brandon got ocean view haircuts with a beer.  Rough life.

   Brett made it all the way to the Indian Ocean.

How to Explain Quailman to Tanzanian Villagers

Bean(s) and Flour Ball or Maharage and Ugali

We spent Halloween and Thanksgiving at MATI, which is where our entire group gets together for training.  First, I don’t know of an instance where 41 strangers get along so well, but that is our group-always laughing and having massage circles.  It’s truly amazing how like-minded and diverse we are. 

For Halloween I was a ball of Ugali and Jeff was Maharage.  We also had special appearances by the ninja turtles, Quailman, big spoon/little spoon, and a lion.  This made for an interesting experience communicating ‘kwa nini’ to the villagers.

Quailman, aka Eric

Step One:  Tell the villagers you are trying to look ridiculous

Step Two:  Remind them that you are rewarded the more ridiculous you look.

Step Three:  Explain that Quailman is really a drawn character on TV named Doug, who wears underwear over his pants-before Brittney Spears did-and has a crush on a girl who is named after a condiment. (This is when it gets tricky.)

Step Four:  Revert back to reminding the villagers that the more ridiculous you look the more candy you get!

As a result, the children loved the idea, the elders thought it was crazy.  I can honestly say I’ve never missed bite size butterfingers or Skeeter more.

The Ninja Turtles: Cate, James, Tanique, Maria and their LCF

Thanksgiving felt so unlike November.  The staff was so good to us and ‘tried’ to make mashed potatoes, green beans and cranberry sauce.  They even surprised us with a big sheet cake and candy.  We played football and frisbee, had a dance party, drank sodas, and by nightfall our stomachs were yelling at us with confusion at all the sugary American food.  I’m actually looking forward to Christmas in Dodoma/Ho-Ho-ma, my new home, with my new friends also in the region.  It feels nothing like the holiday season here.

…that could be partially because I’m sweating while I write this….

Don't Tell Baba You've Got Malaria Or He'll Kill The Kuku

I’ve grown quite accustomed to living in Animal Planet.  For example…..Snakes…. Mama killed one with a stick in our courtyard.  Apparently it was on the wall when I was taking my bucket bath, but I didn’t notice it.  She poked it with a stick, cut it’s head off with an ax, threw it’s body over the banana leaf fence, and buried the head.  YES!  There was also a spitting cobra in Farida’s house.  He was just chillin’ on the ceiling when his tail hit her Dada as she walked in the room for dinner.  Running from the house screaming apparently is code for 15 village men to run into the house with pangas.  That snake didn’t stand a chance.  Rats….chill on my mosquito net each night pooping and eating.  I haven’t heard them in the last week which is either because my paka ate them, or I’ve gotten used to it and sleep fofofo.  Bats….. fly out of the choo and TZ Dracula chills on my room beam each night.  The bats in the choo are particularly fun when they fly out while I’m using it.  Worms…they decided inside my feet were a good place to hang out.  Luckily it wasn’t the kind that you have to cut out with the egg sack.

You’d be surprised how much you adjust when you have to. 

I got malaria 3 weeks in.  In the span of 6 hours I jumped to a 104 temperature and became BFF with the choo.  I was taken to the clinic in Tanga, gave a stool sample, and got magic golden pills. When I say magic pill, I mean it.  If this pill tasted like chocolate then it would out-do Willy Wonka’s everlasting gobbstopper.  In 48 hours I was as good as new.  In the meantime, if I got 1 shillingi for every ‘pole’ I received I’d have 1 US Dollar, as the entire village came to check on me.  My Baba, who heard I was sick before he even returned home, killed one of our chickens and bought me sodas thinking that would make me feel better.  Pole chicken. 

In the end, getting sick showed me how well taken care of I’ll be by PC and Tanzanians.  However, it was a humbling and eye opening experience, as many villagers have passed away from Malaria or ‘stomach aches’ (most likely HIV/AIDS), during our training.  I felt guilty to receive the necessary medicine and care while others can’t receive a Band-Aid much less a magic pill.  It’s a weird balance I’ve been struggling with here: between the extreme privilege I have as a foreigner and what sustainable purpose I have serving Tanzanians for two years.   

Living in a Peace Corps Postcard

I live in a mini-village (Mkokora) within a village (Lusanga C), within a town (Muheza), within a region (Tanga).  It is very rural and painted with mango, coconut, pineapple and chungwa trees.  Rows of corn have grown from 6 inches to 6 feet in 9 short weeks.  Red dirt runs through the shamba and mud huts decorate the hill down to my home.  Goats, cows, loads of chickens, and cats roam the ‘roads’ that are inaccessible by car whenever it rains….it conveniently is the short rainy season right now.  Every morning we wake to the crow of the rooster (Stella) and run through the village as the sun rises, the moon sets, and the call to prayer rings in the background.  We even found a route that secludes us so much we only run into a few people to greet-which is a feat!

Every day I MUST shake the hands of two elders (one of whom serenades me with a song about a girl named Asha), and Mama Nusea quizzes my Kiswahili by talking as fast as possible.  There is a boy, I’ve dubbed Michael Jackson, who starts to breakdance whenever he sees me.  And there is one little boy Juma, who expects me to give him ‘tano’ kila siku.

Everyone (every single person) is so kind.  They help us with our language, challenge us, and offer us all they have (including their daughters/sons to marry).  Sometimes I wonder if the situation was reversed, if Tanzanians were visiting America, would we be so kind?  Would we welcome them with open arms or protect them from any harm?     

It’s hard not to love ‘home’ when every day you’re greeted by 15 watoto running up to give you hugs, and surrounded by elders who genuinely respect and welcome you.

 In the running for cutest kid in Mkokora.

 A walk through Mkokora.

 Lusanga C Primary School

 My neighbors.

Tropical (check), Mountains (check), Rural Awesomeness (Check)

The Story of Oscar Blue Pits

I could not have asked for a better CBT (Community Based Training).  Our group represents the Big 10: Jeff (Jaffari/Jirani) 22 from Purdue, Dani (Farida/Fritto) 26 from Michigan State, Autumn (Oscar Blue Pits) 25 from Wisconsin, Marissa (Moniqua) 23 from Penn State.  Each day after chai and bucket baths, we head up the shamba hill (greeting everyone) to ‘school,’ which consists of a room in Mama Blandina’s house.  She spoils us with her incredible cooking (fresh avocado, tomatoes, fired eggs, chapati, lentils, pilipili, papai and coconut rice), and tells off any kids who call us ‘wazungu.’  Shoma, our LCF is a perfect fit to our group.  She is our cheerleader, explains the language well, reminds us we will understand it all in time, and always gives us breaks to pumzika and laugh.  She has become more like a big sister than anything else here.  Sometimes I contribute our good mental health to the fact that Mama Blandina lets us drink beers outside her house, our classroom rules of EMPS, or our ability to get along SO WELL.  But really, I think Shoma is a big reason why our first weeks have been a breeze.

Now you may be asking, why do you call poor Autumn ‘Oscar Blue Pits.’  One of our first days of class Autumn showed up in a white blouse that was bright blue in both arm pits.  We didn’t know each other very well at that point and really didn’t care so no one said anything….until lunch.  Jeff leaned over in the couch, looked at Autumn with all seriousness and said, “Can I ask you something personal?”  Autumn, being the laid back girl she is welcomed any question, to which Jeff continued, “Do you sweat blue?”  We all laughed so hard that from that point on Autumn was deemed ‘blue pits.’  Later that week when word caught on in the village that I had a Tanzanian name, the villagers decided to give Autumn a name too.  For some reason, unknown to us, they gave her a boys name, Oscar.  It fit.  And that is how Autumn from Wisconsin became Oscar Blue Pits.

If CBT life is the ‘boot camp’ of service then I’m in for a wild ride. 

At the big feast for our host families with Mama Blandina (school mama) and Anna/Shoma.

At Pangani: Fritto, Jafari, Asha, Oscar, Marissa 

At swearing in.  Official PCVs!

My Baba is Cuter Than Your Baba

My host family is absolutely wonderful.   Our first meeting consisted of me climbing out of the PC car to my Mama, Baba and 20 very curious watoto.  They marveled at my luggage, laughed that I was taller than Baba, and had two of the best smiles across their faces that I’ve ever seen.  The perfect match.  After I sat down and was welcomed with fresh chungwa, I introduced myself with the 5 minutes worth of Kiswahili I knew.  Soon after I realized I had NOTHING LEFT TO SAY, and they just stared at me expecting more!  I think they thought I should know as much Kiswahili as the previous volunteer knew…when she finished training.  From that point on it was like performing the skit ‘who’s on first’ over and over in two different languages.  It was easily the most motivating moment to learn Kiswahili quickly and well. 

It is incredible how giving people are when they have so little to give.  My kaka is the most handsome 6 year old on the block, and he is completely in love with his best friend Zoudea (my jirani)  who reminds me of little orphan Annie-Tanzanian style.  All of the other children love her and follow her around.  She is the perfect chemistry of sweet and sassy, and her jack-o-lantern teeth make her completely irresistible.  The worst part is she knows she’s my favorite.

My Dada is the most helpful/demanding teenage girl I know-always showing me how I’m carrying water incorrectly, washing clothes the wrong way, or sweeping dirt without making the right pattern.  She is also very competitive when it comes to playing Uno so I let her win even though she has no idea how to strategize.  My mama laughs with me every day and is so patient with my language.  She works in the shamba during the day and sells shark (on the down low).  The first 3 weeks she responded to every ‘sijui’ I had with ‘pole pole’ and a smile.  She is also thoroughly entertained by my inability to peel a chungwa right handed, in one piece.  

My Baba is adorable, fascinated by my guitar, and calls me Mama Asha.  I rarely see him because he works in Muheza during the night, but he does take the crown for cutest Baba on the planet, with pink glasses nonetheless.  I have been spoiled by their love and support, and couldn’t have asked for a better host family.  I will forever be Asha Husseini Hoza.

Baba, Mama, Husseini, Mimi, na Maimouna

With Zoudea

Yes, Mama is wearing the Kansas flag.

Reppin'.

Flat Brett got up close and personal.

Peace Corps Jackpot

*Climbed a coconut tree

*Built a permagarden and hand washing station with primary school kids

*Gone to a tribal wedding

*Eaten fresh coconut, jackfruit, goat, and fish that I swear was watching me eat it alive

*Declared ‘I prefer the choo over a western toilet.’  It’s true.

*Told many jokes in Kiswahili….and people laugh at them

*Go by another name-Asha

*Have gotten the wiggly finger, usually when my hair is wrapped up and braided

*Speak and write Kiswahili at intermediate-high level

*Gone to bed at 8 at night....almost every night

*Kayaked in the Indian Ocean.

*Got two Malaria parasites

*Seen multiple shooting stars

*Talked more about my bowel movements with new friends than EVER before

*Made ‘American dinner’ for our host families which consisted of a tub of popcorn, 7 kilos of rice, tons of veggies, and 150 chapati with peanut butter and ndizi

*Rocked my chaco tan line like it’s my job

*Been asked by the man who does the call to prayer to take his wife on my morning jogs

*Seen flies in my water and ants in my food and ate/drank it anyway.  More protein.

*Cooked ugali, wale, chapati, mandazi, fried ndizi, maharage, mchiche

*Made a fox tail out of a kanga and water bottle

*Weighed babies at the zyhanati

*Seen zebras, lions, monkeys, elephants, giraffes, antelope, water buffaloes, and several cockroaches

*Had an impromptu guitar/singing concert for the villagers

*Had a wheel barrow race against village kids

*Fallen completely in love with Tanzania

Me and Zoudea at Jeff's (Jafari/Jirani) homestay 

 Two of my neighbor kids (watoto).

The shamba in full force.  Where we run every morning.