Njombe

September 14, 2008

So, I love Njombe- which is a strong statement for what it is. Njombe is my banking town, which basically just means that it has a bank, which of course my village does not. Njombe is known for being the coldest town in Tanzania and for its sweeping views of hills and hills into the far distance. Mostly, I love Njombe because it is bigger than village- but is still really only one main street where you run into people you know. Njombe is one of the regions that the PC has been in the longest, so Njombe citizens are used to us and there is not the danger of harassment, theft, etc. that there is in other banking towns. Njombe also has a cheese shop/factory, one of the biggest markets I have seen in Tz (where you can get giant avocados for the equivalent of thirty cents), some of the fastest Internet in the country, and the Millimani Hotel, which is the home away from home for PCVs. Basically, no one should really love Njombe, because there is not much here, but I do because it is a chance for a hot shower and to stay up late and speak English with my friends.

I made new friends this weekend in Njombe- I should say there is very little Wazungu (foreigners) in Njombe- pretty much just us. But I was introduced to some through my friend, Josh. Zummi and Adina have been friends of PCVs for over a decade. They are both in their early 30s and have a two year old son. Zummi was born in Tanzania and Kiswahili is his first language, however, he is Austrian and has that citizenship. Adina is Dutch and has lived in Tanzania for 20 years. They both speak multiple languages, and live on a flower farm outside of Njombe. The farm sells roses to European markets. (I am actually going out there tomorrow- so more of an update on that later). It is supposed to be amazingly beautiful and PCVs are always welcome to stay there. Anyways, Adina picked me up from the Milimani in her truck and I had never met her but I figured white woman, must be her. And she took me to the Kibena Club, which is sort of a run down, but fun athletic club/ hangout with a pool, bar, tennis courts, etc. We met Zummi there and they attempted to teach me how to play Squash (I am horrible- but they assure me I will be better in no time.) Then other young European expats started to show up for a bbq. There was probably only about 20 of us total- but some Italians, a couple from Holland, some Germans, etc. And I caught a glimpse of what it might be like to be in the field with money- as they have cars, running water, etc. It was interesting to spend time with Europeans in Africa. They all spoke English for my benefit, as I felt very under qualified in the language category, but I had a great time making new friends

The hard part of Njombe is transport to and from site. Mine sucks. The car leaves at 4.45 AM- it is just pick up truck, that luckily I get the front of. The roads are horrible and the last two times I have been riding in the truck it has broken down. Our driver, Stanley, I have decided, is an amazing mechanic. He hops out into the dark with one tool and some electrical tape and has the car running again- until 15 minutes later when he has to repeat whatever process he goes through. Here, I should say a bit about Tanzanian men. Before I came here many Americans were worried for me- these were Americans who have never been to Africa. Tanzanian men are not like men of Central America or even Europeans. There is no cat calling, there is some respect for white women, and Tanzanians in general are very passive people and rarely say what they mean. That being said, Tanzanian men always propose. Petti, my language teacher in Kilosa, told us to be prepared for this. That they figure they might as well try, and are not hurt or forceful when rejected. After you reject them, they go on to talk with you more about something totally unrelated. Anyways, Tanzanians have a great sense of humor. So when Stanley proposed, I told him that Baba Marekani was planning on being a rich man from my bride price and would retire from farming from this money. (My villagers all think my dad is a farmer, which I haven't bothered to correct, as being an attorney is too difficult to explain.) Because I am very beautiful so of course I would be very expensive. I also reminded him that American women are unable to cook Ugali and men in America cook, clean and watch kids. I had him cracking up and that was that. Anyways, on this particular trip we were running late, as nothing here runs on time, and breaking down along the way. By 9 PM we were almost back to my village when the car broke down to an unfixable state. I ended up having to walk 6K home in the dark with 4 Tanzanian men that I didn't know. They carried my stuff and were very chivalrous, but I didn't get home until after 11 PM. We had left Njombe at 1 PM- so it took over 10 hours to go 60K. And that is why it is difficult to be an impatient American in Tanzania.