This One Time, In Tanzania...

A few years from now, when I’m back home with friends and family, and someone brings up goats, xray machines, lizards, mangos, deathbeds, basketball, Nelly, doctors, buses, drunk nuns, the devil, or the dougie… I won’t have to say ‘this one time in Tanzania.’  I can simple refer back to this post about my first month at site.

-I ate fried goat gizzards with pilau and goat grease drizzled on top.  All while squatting next to a thorn tree, in the bush, with a bunch of Kimasai men.  I was admiring their single red cloths, canes and gaged ears, and they were deep in discussion about who would marry that tall, white mzungu.  That one time, on a hot January day, in Tanzania.

-I cut 40 Tanzanians in line to get an x-ray.  This was after the regional hospital had no electricity to take the picture and before I traveled via land cruiser on a dirt road, mid-rainy season, bumping my arm the whole way.  The result was a grainy, two-picture masterpiece, given to me via poop hand, sans envelope.  That one time, I took an x-ray with all metal jewelry still intact, while squatting on the floor of a very well lit room, in Tanzania.

- Olly ate a lizard that was bigger than him.  Whole.  It was turquoise and orange.  This one time, my cat wanted attention, in Tanzania.

-I successfully baked mango (in season) and ginger bread using a two sufaria and stones homemade oven.  Bake time=3 episodes of Modern Family.  Eat time=1/2 of an episode of Modern Family (it was delicious).  This one time, I was feeling domestic, in Tanzania.

-I played a full court basketball game with a bunch of dudes at the University nearby, to a crowd of 30+ more dudes.  The court happens to be outside the men’s dormitory….  White person+ woman+ high scorer=what the HECK?!  The court also had ‘Barack Obama was here’ spray painted on it.  This one time, I screamed ‘in your eye’ in Kiswahili, in Tanzania.

-Every day I sit, chatting with Mama Amina (aka my Dodoma Mama), looking white and American, while the doctors at the hospital argue over who’s going to buy me a soda and chapati today.  This one time, I told a bunch of doctors over and over that I was taken, in Tanzania.

-When two buses become one because it’s the rainy season and one bus can’t make it in the mud, you’ve got yourself a dala dala for a 7 hour bus ride.  Squished between two mamas, and two babies just young enough not to have their own seat, but just old enough to touch you with their snotty hands and change their poopy kanga diapers on you 5 times.  I’m pretty sure I was squeezed in so tight I could count the change in one mama’s pocket (700 Tsh).  This one time, I made two babies cry because they were petrified sitting next to a white person, in Tanzania.

-Mama Amina was playing some American music and I asked her if she knew how to dougie?  Obviously she didn’t, so I proceeded to teach her how to dougie, in the jikoni, to the delight of the men on staff at the hospital who were watching us and laughing in a distance.  This one time, I got jiggy with it, in Tanzania.

Mama Amina

-This Mama told me, ‘njoo!’  So I followed her off the bus.  She put me in a car, drove me to a duka (where she had me leave my stuff), took me to a sunflower oil shop where we snacked on seeds, showed me off to the people in town as her ‘new best friend,’ stopped by her family’s home, made me ugali and goat while her brother told me I should start a fruit juice business in Tanga, had me greet dying Bibi in the next room, took me to a hostel for free soda, bought me embe at the sokoni, took me to the local bar and bought me beers, returned to the duka to get my things that were magically safe, and made sure I got to my hostel and settled in for the night.  In that order.  This one time, I followed a Mama because she told me to, in Tanzania.

-I received a welcome party from a village that included a feast of rabbit, goat, chicken, and pilau.  Along with entertainment of a comedy-central style roast of the new nun in town (to which she awkwardly sat through, quietly, nearly in tears), two priests joking about climbing and drinking Kilimanjaro, a Kimasai sitting in the corner downing Kanyogi packets, and a drunken dance off between the nuns (post-numerous party fouls).  This one time, New Years Day, in Tanzania.

Loolera

-Meck: “Auntie, unajua shetani?”  Me: “Do I know the devil?  No, why do you ask?”  Meck: “No reason!”  This one time, my neighbor boy asked me if I knew the devil, in Tanzania

-A teacher at the nursing school invited me to her house on my way home to hang out.  She promptly pulled out her American music videos which she felt was super hip and American of her to do.  This one time, I watched Nelly and Puff Daddy (because they were so old he was still called that) music videos for an hour, in Tanzania.

Christmas in Ho-Ho-Ma

Merry Christmas from Ho-Ho-Ma!

Even though I was far away from traditions, family, friends and the cold, I couldn’t have had a better Christmas in the Ho-Ho-Ma desert.  Here is a glimpse of the top ten moments from my holiday weekend.

10.  Laughing Circles:  We played the laughing circle game which soon turned into us singing the Tanzanian National Anthem and changing the words to ‘Ho-Ho-Ma.’ 

9.  Mail Time:  Eric got a package from his mom filled with decorations, stockings, holiday Oreos, the Washington Post, Parade ‘end of the year’ special, candy canes, a mailbox of letters, and elf on a shelf.  We hung all the décor and pounded the Oreos while listening to Frank Sinatra’s Christmas Music. 

8.  Kitten in a Stocking:  It was Oliver/Olly’s first Christmas.  He is the cutest stray kitten in all of Tanzania.  He is no older than a month and some change, (I decided his birthday is November 10^th), and perfectly playful and snuggly.  I like that he eats the mosquitos and beetles that like to nest in my room, and he likes to sit on my shoulders, lick my ears and eat dagaa.  I’m making a conscious effort to only speak to him in Kiswahili, so right now he knows how to ‘njoo!’ very well.

7.  Snow:  It definitely didn’t snow.  I actually got sunburned walking around downtown shopping on Christmas Eve.  BUT, the wonderful package of ‘snow’ that Gwen sent was the perfect addition to our Christmas Card Picture.

6.  Chakula Marekani:  Kim made everyone French toast with nutella and ndizi.  ‘Nough said.

5.  Ray Charles Stopped By:  Patrion would put Jamie Foxx out of a job because his Ray Charles impression is so good.  I’m pretty sure the Mama serving us sodas downtown didn’t know what to do when Kat, Chuck and I started crying with laughter the moment he put on my sunglasses.

4.  Slumber Parties:  Thursday there were 3, Friday there were 6, Saturday/Sunday there were 8.  And all this time only 1 bed, 1 mosquito net, and 1 very active kitten.  Needless to say it was a tight squeeze in 2011, staring Dodoma PCVs.  Luckily, we’ve all grown accustomed to smelling bad 24/7. 

3.  Caroling:  Who are those wazungu singing Christmas Carols, walking down the dirt road?  Why yes, it’s our new neighbor Asha and her American friends. 

2.  Letters from Buddy the Elf:  Eating a fancy dinner at the Chinese restaurant in town was not enough Holiday Cheer for Buddy the Elf and Santa.  So Christmas Eve night they stayed up in Santa’s workshop writing letters to each PCV, decorating the ‘surprise’ tree, and putting together a Christmas puzzle.  They tip-toed out over sleeping bags and snoring kitten, placed elf on the shelf on  top the tree, letters beneath, and left just after eating the cookies and feeding a carrot to the reindeer.

1.  Christmas Morning:  Christmas morning we all drank coffee, read the paper, and gathered around the tree opening our Secret Santa gifts and reading the letters left by Santa.  It was such a great morning as we were consumed with laughter, smiles, and really enjoying the company.  I couldn’t have been luckier to have shared the holiday with my new friends.  It is incredible how close we have all gotten after only knowing each other for 10 weeks.  My family here, both Tanzanian and American were a wonderful present this Christmas, and I’m already looking forward to continuing our new traditions next year.  I hope you and your family have a wonderful holiday season.

Krismasi njema!

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse (au panya).

The stockings were hung on concrete walls with care,

In hopes TZ Santa soon would be there.

 The PCVs were nestled all snug in sleeping bags

While visions of warm showers and chapati were had

And Olly in his bow, and Eric in Obama cap,

Had settled under mosquito net for a rainy season nap. 

When out of the choo there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my seat cushion to see what was the matter.

Away to the barred windows I flew in a flash

Tore open the kanga and threw up the sash.

The moon and the stars on ho-ho-ma desert ‘snow’

Gave a glisten to dust roads and mud huts below.

When, what to my wandering eyes should appear,

But Buddy the Elf, giggling with no fear.

With some letters in hand, and a Charlie Brown tree,

I knew in a moment this is Santa, it must be.

They quickly tiptoed towards the ujirani they came,

And sang Ho-Ho-Ma Anthem and called laughing circle by name!

Now Patrion!  Now Chuck! Now Eric and Maria!

On, Kat! On, Jodi! On Kim mnaangalia!

To the top of the water filter! Top bottles of Kanyogi!

Now Kiswahili! Sasa!  Shikamoo Ray Charlie!

As Chinese food has been eaten and dance party stepped

We came together this night, a family who just met.

As I thought about new traditions St Nick and Elf creeped,

But not without stopping to grab a biscuit to eat.

And then, in an instant, I heard a small rustle

Not beetles nor lizards nor roosters were a shuffle.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

In came our Christmas surprise, we’d been found.

He was dressed all in dirt, from his head to his foot.

And his clothes were all tarnished, with Muheza soot.

A bundle of treats he had flung on his back,

And he looked very sneaky, pulling a puzzle from his pack.

His eyes umeme adjusted!  His dimples how merry!

His cheeks sunburned, his nose just like Jerry’s!

His funny little mouth, finger pressed upon so,

And the tops of his feet bared a chacko tan glow.

The stump of a candy cane held tight in his teeth,

And the jingle of ornaments rang to a beat,

He had cut out snow figures, and placed upon tree,

And right on the top well who could that be?

He was small, and cute, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw it was elf on a shelf!

A wink Santa gave and Buddy grabbed more biscuits,

I knew that this was like no other Christmas.

They spoke not a word as others slept fo fo fo,

And they filled all the stockings simply humming ho ho ho.

And when finished, they seemed to have had loads of fun

They skipped down the hall, their job was well done.

I knew the next morning would be a sikukuu to remember,

In a home filled with love and friends we’ll have forever,

When I heard in a distance just barely out of sight,

“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”

16 Shooting Stars and Counting....

For shadow I headed to Mbeya town for a week where I followed PCV Maren around at work and play.  The 15 hour bus ride there included diverse climate change-from tropical, to National Park, to desert, to mountains, to pine forests, to COLD!  When our group finally arrived I soon realized I would finally be breaking out my long pants and sweaters in Tanzania. 

During the week I got a FANCY meal at an American ex-pats house and even went to kick-boxing class at a German ex-pats house.  The others shadowing in Mbeya region came into town and we went to the disco one night and danced to reggae music and ate chipsi mayai.  The next day some of us climbed the ‘mountain’ outside Maren’s house which was straight UP the entire way.  We rested a bit until we were rudely interrupted by a cow who decided we were sitting exactly where he wanted to pee.

 With Maren, Anna, Montana Andrew and Jambo Jon on the hike.

After Mbeya I traveled to Dar with Maren to meet with ITECH staff (the NGO I’ll be working with over the next 2 years).  The staff is fantastic and I discovered I will be traveling into Dar for one week every 3 months for meetings and collaborations.  This means that 2 months of my service will be spent on the coast! 

The ITECH ladies: Me, Maren, Merrit, and Raychel

City living is SO different from village life.  The slightest taste of reverse culture shock, even after only being here for a few weeks, was really overwhelming.  I have really grown used to the simplicity of village life. Most days I brush my teeth outside because the stars are incredible and the moon is bright enough to serve as 20 street lights.   It is comforting to be part of a community, to go to bed at 8 because there is no electricity to keep you awake, and to walk everywhere without complaint because the scenery is utterly gorgeous. 


*If you want to see what my pre-service training has been like, check out the video at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZX3Mh4dwC4&context=C447dbafADvjVQa1PpcFOFM3GVNniN-_OX69NtYBarO3sGDUApyp8=

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)