Okay, my mom is telling me that people are calling her asking her to tell me to update my blog. So alright already....
I have been in Iringa now for almost two weeks. Iringa is about 5 hours north of Njombe by bus but is still in the Southern Highlands. It is a larger town then Njombe but you can still walk everywhere. I love Iringa, there is great shopping, good nightlife and friendly people. So about 30 PCVs are here from my group for In-Service Training and PEPFAR. PEPFAR, if you don't know is a program started by Bush that is helping 15 countries in the world by giving grants for AIDS projects. It is one of the options for PCVs to write PEPFAR grants to get money for our projects. So we are in trainings everyday all day with our Tanzanian counterparts, so Juster is here with me. She has sort of stolen the show by translating everything in two languages and she gave this great speech out of nowhere about empowering women in our villages.
Basically I am spending my time trying to figure out what I should do in my village. My needs assessment yielded that my village could use help with everything. We, PCVs, have spent our time discussing ideas for projects, how to get funding, cultural weirdness that we don't know what to do about, and leaning on each other as we always do when we are together. Family is such an important concept and the more we miss our own in America the more we love and know each other. Last night we watched together as history was made and change happened. Watching Obama become president in a local Tanzanian bar with PCVs was an experience I will never forget. Tanzanians and PCVs alike were hopeful. But it was moments like these that I was thankful for my American PCV family.
So on to projects... These are some projects that PCVs are working on in Tanzania: Building wells/water supply issues, making fuel-efficient stoves, solar power, community libraries, building dispensaries, Agro-forestry/fruit trees, improved farm techniques, composting/fertilizing, income generating crafts, windmills, livestock- chickens, goats, cows, etc, beekeeping, micro-finance, food preservation, school gardens, sports for village or students, vocational programs for out of school youth, health clubs (as in clubs at school that talk about health... not 24 hour fitness... c'mon.), teaching English, girls empowerment, AIDS testing and education, nutrition education for people living with AIDS and mothers, and permaculture. So what will I do....? Sijui (I don't know).
But here are the ideas now: Still teach health/life skills at P. school. Still have girls empowerment group with Tally. Still have mama's group teaching nutrition, etc. Still have men's group teaching condom use and women's rights... oh, I am still nervous about that one. Still have a village AIDS day that will be like a party but will culminate with making my entire village get tested. But new ideas: I am technically a health volunteer, however, instead of preaching to people to wear condoms I would like to access their interest in healthful living in other ways. I think the answer is through income generation and nutrition. I want to put more of an environmental spin on things. Mostly I am interested in grafting and having people grow fruit trees-- benefit: if they eat it- more variety to their diets and increase nutrition. If they sell it- more money to go to the doctor, send kids to school to learn about condoms, etc. Also interested in beekeeping, which could provide good money. The problem: I don't know how to do any of these things. My parents have always been outdoorsy and able to do anything on their property. My mom is a master gardener, they have bees and an orchard. Unfortunately, I did not realize that my parents were the coolest people ever until I was about 17 and by that point I guess I missed out on the training I should have gotten from them. But the job of a PCV is only facilitation to keep things sustainable, so my plan is just to bring an expert in from Njombe and teach my interested villagers. Ah, so many plans, so much work. I guess I will have to stop reading 3-4 books a week. Honestly, I am a bit nervous to go back to village. Returning after IST is a difficult time for most PCVs after spending two weeks together and then going back and having to make stuff happen.
Now for the fun stuff: We have had some great nights in Iringa. We have been to the disco, out to the local hole-in-the-wall bars, watched "Friends" in bed on Kate's laptop... basically our nights have been a blast. We have started dance parties in one of those seedy tin roof bars. Picture 12 American girls dancing to Tanzanian pop music in one of those places.. it was hilarious. Especially when we got some old drunk Indian man to dance with us. It is really funny to live in a country where anything goes. When your group is all white girls it makes it so we are stared at anyways, so we go with it. We dance and sing everywhere, we meet crazy/interesting/fun people from all over, we wear clothes don't match that we all just rotate between ourselves and then tell each other how pretty we look, and we revel in our weirdness and spontaneity. Sometimes, our lives are hard: we have relationship problems, village problems, homesick or health problems. And then sometimes we just live in the moment and forget all our worries and remember that girls really do just want to have fun.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Friday, January 9, 2009
Sickness
"The wind is in from Africa and last night I couldn't sleep.
Oh, you know, it sure is hard to leave you, Carey,
But it's really not my home.
My fingernails are filthy, I've got beach tar on my feet,
And I miss my clean white linens and my fancy French cologne."
-Joni Mitchell
January 6, 2009
I woke up sometime in the middle of the night and thought I had been hit by a truck. My whole body hurt including my head which was pounding. I was tangled in my mosquito net and thought I had wet the bed before I realized it was just sweat. In the morning, I crawled to the living room to take my temperature- 102 F. Where did this come from?
I crawled back to bed where I spent the entirety of Tuesday. PCVs had always told me that the worst is to be at site and be sick. This is because you are basically alone and the daily tasks like cooking, and bathing are next to impossible. I always miss my mom, but when I am sick it is time to revert to being a child. I pictured myself little at the house I grew up in. Curled up on the flowered couch in my flannel pajamas and under a blanket. My mom would come in with what she called "Tincture" a concoction of herbs, honey and tea. Both my sisters would be hanging out on the leather couch and blue chair watching whatever movie we had going. Smokey, our little grey, cat is curled on my stomach. There are no boys... after all there was a time when our house was quiet before I had brothers... haha. But soon my Dad comes home from work and kisses me on the forehead and asks if I am better. But there is none of this so I lay looking up at my mosquito net and crawl to take my temperature again. (Standing up makes me feel like I am going to vomit.) Now it is only 98.2 F and I am freezing.
I put on every piece of clothing I own and get under all my blankets. Even my towel for good measure. I want tea but that is work to heat water. I shiver for a few hours and then sleep and wake up all sweaty again. Temperature: 103.8 F Whoa! I get out this super handy (and somewhat terrifying) book, "Where There is No Doctor." Which confirms what I already know, a fever that rises and falls dramatically with a headache is either a virus or Malaria. At any rate we are supposed to contact PC if we have a temp that high. They tell me to monitor it because Malaria is weird and can go into hiding where some days you feel fine, but a fever that comes and goes for a week or more should be treated like Malaria.
Well I am sitting there sweating, Juster and Katherine come by because they have been working on the farms but realize they and no other villagers have seen me that day. I must look pretty bad because as soon as Juster sees me she pushes Katherine back like I have the plague. This is a good idea though, as she is only a child and if what I have is contagious, it would be bad for her. Juster tells her to get Rosina and Imelda (the girls who we are supporting in school,) to start boiling water. She tells me to bathe when they bring the water and she will bring dinner for me and my cat who have not eaten all day. Then, reassuringly (She thinks), she tells me she will not let me die. Oh good.
She comes back later with the head teacher and half of the primary school teachers. They have tea and rice and beans. I am not hungry at all but am grateful for the tea. When eat a good amount but tell them I am full they all yell at me "Kula, Brie!" "Brie, Kula!" (Eat!) Then they beg me to eat just one handful more and I feel like a little child who is being naughty at dinnertime. Finally, when I refuse, Juster tells me in English that I will die if I do not eat that day. Haha... clearly she does not understand American fat reserves, I think I could go two weeks without eating and not have a problem. Then she says that if I die they are going to bury me at the school and write "Here is our Mzungu, Brie." (Gee, Thanks.) They insist someone should spend the night there to care for me, but I insist just as strongly that I only need to rest and I will come out in the morning so they know I am okay.
The next morning at the oh so late hour of 6 am there is Hodi-ing at my door. I wrap myself in a blanket and answer the door to 5 villagers who are checking to see if I died in the night. Luckily, I feel surprisingly better although, not in the clear yet. Days later, still drained but no fever, so I am assuming just something working through my system. Every sickness here is caused by feces to mouth (mmm...) or mosquitoes, so it is not like there is some big mystery... just dirty living. But all this talk about death, which I never once felt near to, made me realize how quickly and unexpectedly people go here. How familiar my villagers are with it. I have never been to a funeral in America, I have lost count with how many I have been to here. For Tanzanians, death is real.
Oh, you know, it sure is hard to leave you, Carey,
But it's really not my home.
My fingernails are filthy, I've got beach tar on my feet,
And I miss my clean white linens and my fancy French cologne."
-Joni Mitchell
January 6, 2009
I woke up sometime in the middle of the night and thought I had been hit by a truck. My whole body hurt including my head which was pounding. I was tangled in my mosquito net and thought I had wet the bed before I realized it was just sweat. In the morning, I crawled to the living room to take my temperature- 102 F. Where did this come from?
I crawled back to bed where I spent the entirety of Tuesday. PCVs had always told me that the worst is to be at site and be sick. This is because you are basically alone and the daily tasks like cooking, and bathing are next to impossible. I always miss my mom, but when I am sick it is time to revert to being a child. I pictured myself little at the house I grew up in. Curled up on the flowered couch in my flannel pajamas and under a blanket. My mom would come in with what she called "Tincture" a concoction of herbs, honey and tea. Both my sisters would be hanging out on the leather couch and blue chair watching whatever movie we had going. Smokey, our little grey, cat is curled on my stomach. There are no boys... after all there was a time when our house was quiet before I had brothers... haha. But soon my Dad comes home from work and kisses me on the forehead and asks if I am better. But there is none of this so I lay looking up at my mosquito net and crawl to take my temperature again. (Standing up makes me feel like I am going to vomit.) Now it is only 98.2 F and I am freezing.
I put on every piece of clothing I own and get under all my blankets. Even my towel for good measure. I want tea but that is work to heat water. I shiver for a few hours and then sleep and wake up all sweaty again. Temperature: 103.8 F Whoa! I get out this super handy (and somewhat terrifying) book, "Where There is No Doctor." Which confirms what I already know, a fever that rises and falls dramatically with a headache is either a virus or Malaria. At any rate we are supposed to contact PC if we have a temp that high. They tell me to monitor it because Malaria is weird and can go into hiding where some days you feel fine, but a fever that comes and goes for a week or more should be treated like Malaria.
Well I am sitting there sweating, Juster and Katherine come by because they have been working on the farms but realize they and no other villagers have seen me that day. I must look pretty bad because as soon as Juster sees me she pushes Katherine back like I have the plague. This is a good idea though, as she is only a child and if what I have is contagious, it would be bad for her. Juster tells her to get Rosina and Imelda (the girls who we are supporting in school,) to start boiling water. She tells me to bathe when they bring the water and she will bring dinner for me and my cat who have not eaten all day. Then, reassuringly (She thinks), she tells me she will not let me die. Oh good.
She comes back later with the head teacher and half of the primary school teachers. They have tea and rice and beans. I am not hungry at all but am grateful for the tea. When eat a good amount but tell them I am full they all yell at me "Kula, Brie!" "Brie, Kula!" (Eat!) Then they beg me to eat just one handful more and I feel like a little child who is being naughty at dinnertime. Finally, when I refuse, Juster tells me in English that I will die if I do not eat that day. Haha... clearly she does not understand American fat reserves, I think I could go two weeks without eating and not have a problem. Then she says that if I die they are going to bury me at the school and write "Here is our Mzungu, Brie." (Gee, Thanks.) They insist someone should spend the night there to care for me, but I insist just as strongly that I only need to rest and I will come out in the morning so they know I am okay.
The next morning at the oh so late hour of 6 am there is Hodi-ing at my door. I wrap myself in a blanket and answer the door to 5 villagers who are checking to see if I died in the night. Luckily, I feel surprisingly better although, not in the clear yet. Days later, still drained but no fever, so I am assuming just something working through my system. Every sickness here is caused by feces to mouth (mmm...) or mosquitoes, so it is not like there is some big mystery... just dirty living. But all this talk about death, which I never once felt near to, made me realize how quickly and unexpectedly people go here. How familiar my villagers are with it. I have never been to a funeral in America, I have lost count with how many I have been to here. For Tanzanians, death is real.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Holidays in East Africa
So... I haven't updated in a while as I have spent my time lately speaking English, riding buses, eating American food, and living in luxury- and you all already know what that is like. So I have decided to just give a highlighted version of my holidays.
Highlights:
- Fabulous Christmas dinner in Njombe- Greta made amazing onion dill bread and I made a mango pie. PCVs try to make the holidays feel like home, but they don't really.
-Being able to talk to my parents, sisters, brothers and Reed on Christmas.
- Getting our picture taken with an African Father Christmas.
-Seeing my friends from my training group that I haven't seen in four months.
-Watching "The Grinch Stole Christmas" and "Charlie Brown's Christmas" in bed on Christmas eve with Catherine, Ashleigh and Cristina. (Made me miss my family though... My Dad wasn't there to sing "He's a mean one, Mr. Grinch.")
-The Fabulous Travel Adventures of Margaret, Greta, Kate and Brie. We hitched rides all over the place: in the back of a Pepsi truck, with a Swedish expat, on a crowded dala where I had to sit in Margaret's lap while we both straddled a Masai man...
-Staying in an amazing house owned my the U.S. Government in Dar. Yay for air conditioning, kitchen appliances, and showers. Thank you Patrick and Megan!!!
-Watching Meesh have a dance off on the beach with some really good Tanzanian guys.
-Wearing a bathing suit and Barak Obama kanga everyday like a uniform.
-Sipping a pina colada on the beach.
-Night swimming in the Indian Ocean.
-New Year's Eve Disco Dancing with about 40 PCVs.
-Riding a camel down the beach on New Year's Day.
-Megan's incredible pasta dinner. The homemade salad dressing was delicious.
-Every moment I was in Dar and realizing that I was not getting robbed.
-Weekend at Flower Farm with Zummi and Adina... I think I can write "Enough Said..."
-Eating, eating, eating....
-Phone calls from my villagers saying they loved and and missed me.
Overall, the holidays were fun and enjoyable. I tried to focus on where I was and not where I wasn't. Now it is back to the village for just a few days before my big two week long in-service Training by Peace Corps. Juster and I are headed to Iringa to learn about what I should be doing here for the next year and a half.
Highlights:
- Fabulous Christmas dinner in Njombe- Greta made amazing onion dill bread and I made a mango pie. PCVs try to make the holidays feel like home, but they don't really.
-Being able to talk to my parents, sisters, brothers and Reed on Christmas.
- Getting our picture taken with an African Father Christmas.
-Seeing my friends from my training group that I haven't seen in four months.
-Watching "The Grinch Stole Christmas" and "Charlie Brown's Christmas" in bed on Christmas eve with Catherine, Ashleigh and Cristina. (Made me miss my family though... My Dad wasn't there to sing "He's a mean one, Mr. Grinch.")
-The Fabulous Travel Adventures of Margaret, Greta, Kate and Brie. We hitched rides all over the place: in the back of a Pepsi truck, with a Swedish expat, on a crowded dala where I had to sit in Margaret's lap while we both straddled a Masai man...
-Staying in an amazing house owned my the U.S. Government in Dar. Yay for air conditioning, kitchen appliances, and showers. Thank you Patrick and Megan!!!
-Watching Meesh have a dance off on the beach with some really good Tanzanian guys.
-Wearing a bathing suit and Barak Obama kanga everyday like a uniform.
-Sipping a pina colada on the beach.
-Night swimming in the Indian Ocean.
-New Year's Eve Disco Dancing with about 40 PCVs.
-Riding a camel down the beach on New Year's Day.
-Megan's incredible pasta dinner. The homemade salad dressing was delicious.
-Every moment I was in Dar and realizing that I was not getting robbed.
-Weekend at Flower Farm with Zummi and Adina... I think I can write "Enough Said..."
-Eating, eating, eating....
-Phone calls from my villagers saying they loved and and missed me.
Overall, the holidays were fun and enjoyable. I tried to focus on where I was and not where I wasn't. Now it is back to the village for just a few days before my big two week long in-service Training by Peace Corps. Juster and I are headed to Iringa to learn about what I should be doing here for the next year and a half.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Another Week in the Village of Children
December 17- now
This week I had a break through on a variety of levels with my village. It was a slightly rough week as Juster was in Njombe all week visiting her family for the holidays, so I was alone. At first I didn't really know what to do and realized how dependant I have become on her, so it was actually sort of good to be forced out of that comfort zone.
This week Tally walked with me to my site. We had fun spending the night at my house where I tried to teach her the joys of making crepes, warm bucket baths, and fresh brewed coffee. After she left I decided to finish my garden. I know it is snowing in Oregon but spring has come in the Southern Highlands. Birds are singing everywhere, the grass is tall and green and the grasshoppers are everywhere. I have been working hard at digging up my courtyard which was entirely grass. If you know me, than you know I am not much of a "manual laborer". But I really got with it and since all good Tanzanians are planting right now, I decided I would be good and fit in with my village. So I slaved away hoeing in the sunlight. In the end my hands were blistered and bloody and I had gone full force Tanzanian-style and risked worms to work in the garden barefoot. It felt good to be creating something, and to feel a connection with the earth around me. I dug ditches around the beds I created because there is limited water in Africa, the ditches will hold the rain in and allow my beds to be watered. I now have three 8' X 3.5' beds, one 4.5'X 8' bed and one 15'x 4' bed. I have planted flowers (African Daisies, Marigolds, California Poppies, Calendula, Sunflowers, and Nasturtiums). I planted a variety of lettuce, Swiss Chard, Kale, Spinach, Arugula, Broccoli, Green Peppers, Cucumber, Summer Squash, Pumpkins, Eggplant, Beets, Radishes, Carrots, Green Beans, Snap Peas, and Pineapple. My herb garden is Lavender, Dill, Catnip, Thyme, Basil, Oregano, Chives, Parsley, Rosemary, and Tarragon. There was already a Tanzanian hot pepper bush in my yard that I kept and it full of flowers. We will see if any of it grows but as a Vegetarian, I will be excited to have any of my own veggies. While I worked like a Turk, Kimulimuli spent his time chasing lizards, pouncing on the hoe, and digging up then pooping wherever I had just planted... oh, that cat.
This week I considered starting a daycare. All the kids are now out of school for the holidays, so as I walked around my village this week I realized that there was only children anywhere. All the adults were working in the farms on the outskirts of the village. They just leave there little tiny kids wandering around. But than I noticed these were the kids who were cooking the meals, fetching the water, running the shops and felt like they were making a daycare for me than the other way round. One of my big break-throughs this week was as I was walking a kid started yelling excitedly, "Mzungu! Mzungu!" (White Person). They get so excited to see me that it is not malicious or anything, but it is like they can't contain themselves. I turn just in time to hear another kid say to him, "No, No, That is Mwalimu Brie" (Teacher Brie). Then they both started yelling "Mwalimu!" so I turned and waved to them but I could have hugged them for it. Over the week many of the kids had switched to using my name or teacher. To suddenly no longer be "white Person" does a lot for feeling like you are included in your village.
I have a new adopted family. Mama David, who I wrote of before, except now I am going to call her Mama Mary because I think Mary is her child who I will get to know the best. Since I had nothing else to do I went to her home. She runs a shop out of her house and also is a tailor. She speaks no English but is patient, willing to talk slow, and use words that I know. She was so encouraging that I ended up spending a lot of time talking this week. I know my Swahili was sloppy and I made mistakes but my villagers loved it. One day I just hung out at her shop while she was working and after a while a crowd had sort of gathered to hang out with me. We somehow got on the subject of my mugging. I acted/told the whole story to my villagers making tongue clicks and verbal reactions of horror. Then I succeeded in convincing them that I have no money because of this event and they even agreed saying that I don't even have a car. If anything this moment made me feel supported by my villagers and made me feel that I will probably never get robbed in village. Mama Mary is a sweetheart and she is the first Tanzanian to acknowledge that it must be really hard for me to be away from my family in a village alone. She invited me to spend Christmas with her family. She invited me to spend nights there. She told me she would teach me Kibena. I love her and I love Mary. Mama Mary told me that Mary talks about me nonstop and is so excited to start school because I will be teaching there. She has an adorable toothless grin and plays dress up. So I have adopted them as my TZ village family.
The other big event of the week happened on my way into town. I convince the driver of my village car that even though it is not running he should run it for me. Luckily, in some ways the crush pays off and Stanley agrees to take me to town. He says that the village is out of supplies anyways and so he will see if anyone else wants to go. I am relieved that I get to go spend Christmas with my friends. When he picks me up at 4 am there is another guy in the front seat too who is about my age. This guy has had some secondary school and so he speaks a few words of English which is helpful when I don't understand his Swahili. Anyways, I end up talking to the two of them the whole way to town. So at 4.30 am I am discussing the Iraq war, and what I think the merits are to a Obama presidency. They share with me problems in our village from lack of education to too many kids etc. Then we get on the subject that a white woman must get on when she is with two Tanzanian men of her same age: When am I getting married? What is my bride price? Why am I not already married? etc. These guys are totally harmless village guys so I talk with them about how Americans don't believe in bride price, how I am waiting to get married, and I can't cook Ugali so therefore I can't marry a Tanzanian. I say that it is important for me to do what I am doing in Africa because I am a health volunteer and maybe can help here. Then Oscar (the other guy) asks me if I will teach about using condoms. I say that I will. Then we proceed to have the most embarrassing conversation I have had so far in Tanzania. Both of them tell me excuse and excuse about why condoms won't work. (I won't go into them because I am not sure who is reading this.) I blush for a second that we are talking about this at all, but then I think "Brie, pull it together. These are a hard to reach group of people that have most of the control and tend to have many partners. This is the reason why you are here." So I pull it together, I toughen up, just because I am a 24 year old girl doesn't mean I can't tell them what is what. It is not enough to just talk to a mamas group or teach Primary School students, these men need to be reached also. So we have an open discussion about condom use and I think it went well. I actually joked with them a bit but then firmly ended with that their lives and other people's depended on the use. The great thing was they weren't awkward at all about talking about it with me. They seemed to genuinely want to know and wanted to listen. At they end they said they understood... So maybe my teaching has begun? I think Stanley will be a great in with this twenty- something single male group in my village and I have already started to brainstorm ways that this group might now be reached.
Now, I am in Njombe. Getting ready for a holiday celebration at our hotel with about 30 other PCVs. We are doing a gift exchange and the hotel staff is letting us use their kitchen (which has an oven!) so we can make a holiday feast. Merry Christmas everyone! I miss and love you.
This week I had a break through on a variety of levels with my village. It was a slightly rough week as Juster was in Njombe all week visiting her family for the holidays, so I was alone. At first I didn't really know what to do and realized how dependant I have become on her, so it was actually sort of good to be forced out of that comfort zone.
This week Tally walked with me to my site. We had fun spending the night at my house where I tried to teach her the joys of making crepes, warm bucket baths, and fresh brewed coffee. After she left I decided to finish my garden. I know it is snowing in Oregon but spring has come in the Southern Highlands. Birds are singing everywhere, the grass is tall and green and the grasshoppers are everywhere. I have been working hard at digging up my courtyard which was entirely grass. If you know me, than you know I am not much of a "manual laborer". But I really got with it and since all good Tanzanians are planting right now, I decided I would be good and fit in with my village. So I slaved away hoeing in the sunlight. In the end my hands were blistered and bloody and I had gone full force Tanzanian-style and risked worms to work in the garden barefoot. It felt good to be creating something, and to feel a connection with the earth around me. I dug ditches around the beds I created because there is limited water in Africa, the ditches will hold the rain in and allow my beds to be watered. I now have three 8' X 3.5' beds, one 4.5'X 8' bed and one 15'x 4' bed. I have planted flowers (African Daisies, Marigolds, California Poppies, Calendula, Sunflowers, and Nasturtiums). I planted a variety of lettuce, Swiss Chard, Kale, Spinach, Arugula, Broccoli, Green Peppers, Cucumber, Summer Squash, Pumpkins, Eggplant, Beets, Radishes, Carrots, Green Beans, Snap Peas, and Pineapple. My herb garden is Lavender, Dill, Catnip, Thyme, Basil, Oregano, Chives, Parsley, Rosemary, and Tarragon. There was already a Tanzanian hot pepper bush in my yard that I kept and it full of flowers. We will see if any of it grows but as a Vegetarian, I will be excited to have any of my own veggies. While I worked like a Turk, Kimulimuli spent his time chasing lizards, pouncing on the hoe, and digging up then pooping wherever I had just planted... oh, that cat.
This week I considered starting a daycare. All the kids are now out of school for the holidays, so as I walked around my village this week I realized that there was only children anywhere. All the adults were working in the farms on the outskirts of the village. They just leave there little tiny kids wandering around. But than I noticed these were the kids who were cooking the meals, fetching the water, running the shops and felt like they were making a daycare for me than the other way round. One of my big break-throughs this week was as I was walking a kid started yelling excitedly, "Mzungu! Mzungu!" (White Person). They get so excited to see me that it is not malicious or anything, but it is like they can't contain themselves. I turn just in time to hear another kid say to him, "No, No, That is Mwalimu Brie" (Teacher Brie). Then they both started yelling "Mwalimu!" so I turned and waved to them but I could have hugged them for it. Over the week many of the kids had switched to using my name or teacher. To suddenly no longer be "white Person" does a lot for feeling like you are included in your village.
I have a new adopted family. Mama David, who I wrote of before, except now I am going to call her Mama Mary because I think Mary is her child who I will get to know the best. Since I had nothing else to do I went to her home. She runs a shop out of her house and also is a tailor. She speaks no English but is patient, willing to talk slow, and use words that I know. She was so encouraging that I ended up spending a lot of time talking this week. I know my Swahili was sloppy and I made mistakes but my villagers loved it. One day I just hung out at her shop while she was working and after a while a crowd had sort of gathered to hang out with me. We somehow got on the subject of my mugging. I acted/told the whole story to my villagers making tongue clicks and verbal reactions of horror. Then I succeeded in convincing them that I have no money because of this event and they even agreed saying that I don't even have a car. If anything this moment made me feel supported by my villagers and made me feel that I will probably never get robbed in village. Mama Mary is a sweetheart and she is the first Tanzanian to acknowledge that it must be really hard for me to be away from my family in a village alone. She invited me to spend Christmas with her family. She invited me to spend nights there. She told me she would teach me Kibena. I love her and I love Mary. Mama Mary told me that Mary talks about me nonstop and is so excited to start school because I will be teaching there. She has an adorable toothless grin and plays dress up. So I have adopted them as my TZ village family.
The other big event of the week happened on my way into town. I convince the driver of my village car that even though it is not running he should run it for me. Luckily, in some ways the crush pays off and Stanley agrees to take me to town. He says that the village is out of supplies anyways and so he will see if anyone else wants to go. I am relieved that I get to go spend Christmas with my friends. When he picks me up at 4 am there is another guy in the front seat too who is about my age. This guy has had some secondary school and so he speaks a few words of English which is helpful when I don't understand his Swahili. Anyways, I end up talking to the two of them the whole way to town. So at 4.30 am I am discussing the Iraq war, and what I think the merits are to a Obama presidency. They share with me problems in our village from lack of education to too many kids etc. Then we get on the subject that a white woman must get on when she is with two Tanzanian men of her same age: When am I getting married? What is my bride price? Why am I not already married? etc. These guys are totally harmless village guys so I talk with them about how Americans don't believe in bride price, how I am waiting to get married, and I can't cook Ugali so therefore I can't marry a Tanzanian. I say that it is important for me to do what I am doing in Africa because I am a health volunteer and maybe can help here. Then Oscar (the other guy) asks me if I will teach about using condoms. I say that I will. Then we proceed to have the most embarrassing conversation I have had so far in Tanzania. Both of them tell me excuse and excuse about why condoms won't work. (I won't go into them because I am not sure who is reading this.) I blush for a second that we are talking about this at all, but then I think "Brie, pull it together. These are a hard to reach group of people that have most of the control and tend to have many partners. This is the reason why you are here." So I pull it together, I toughen up, just because I am a 24 year old girl doesn't mean I can't tell them what is what. It is not enough to just talk to a mamas group or teach Primary School students, these men need to be reached also. So we have an open discussion about condom use and I think it went well. I actually joked with them a bit but then firmly ended with that their lives and other people's depended on the use. The great thing was they weren't awkward at all about talking about it with me. They seemed to genuinely want to know and wanted to listen. At they end they said they understood... So maybe my teaching has begun? I think Stanley will be a great in with this twenty- something single male group in my village and I have already started to brainstorm ways that this group might now be reached.
Now, I am in Njombe. Getting ready for a holiday celebration at our hotel with about 30 other PCVs. We are doing a gift exchange and the hotel staff is letting us use their kitchen (which has an oven!) so we can make a holiday feast. Merry Christmas everyone! I miss and love you.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Happy Holidays
Hey Friends and Family,
Just a note to wish you all Happy Holidays and a Wonderful New Year! Things are going fine in Tanzania, I am a little poorer than I expected to be but hamnashida, as we would say here. (No Problems).
Now for a little story: Just went to the bank which is the prime example of Tanzanian inefficiency as the bank is almost always an all day experience. As I am waiting in line (I had already been there for an hour) and man after man cuts in front of me. I know this is a cultural difference here but I start to get a little pissed off. I am not sure if it is because I am a woman and therefore a second class citizen or because I am white so they think I don't know what is going on. But finally when the fourth guy cuts me, I throw a big hissy fit in the bank. Now usually I am able to keep my temper under control, but not today. So I tell them in Swahili "Not Cool", basically. They laugh at me but give me my way. For the next two hours of line standing we all sort of joke about it... "Haha, the foreigner knows whats going on and wouldn't let it happen." But the whole experience made me realize that equality is very ingrained in our culture. It doesn't always play out but for the most part Americans value equality, fairness and justice and get angry when we feel we are not being treated in a just manner.
I began to think that for most Americans we only apply this rule to other Americans, not to people in other countries. We figure that's just the way things are. There were countless times while working for Mercy Corps that I heard Americans say things like, "Well, all Africans are poor, that's just the way things are." (This is entirely untrue, many are and some are not.) or "We should be helping people in our own country." (We should, but why should arbitrary borders justify who receives help?) Anyways, the point of this is I would like to encourage people to extend our sense of equality over the boarders this holiday season. All people are people and should be treated fairly and have equal opportunity to success and happiness whether they are French, Iraqi, Cuban, Indian, Tanzanian or whatever. Please consider how you could be part of this change. What difference can you make? Volunteer for something or the holidays are always a good time to give a gift to an Aid Organization- I recommend Mercy Corps (www.mercycorps.org)
I hope the season is Merry and Bright. I love and miss all of you so much. Thanks you for the countless emails, packages and letters. I am so lucky to have all of you in my life. Be well.
Blessings,
Brie
www.brieintanzania.blogspot.com
"It's been a long December and there's reason to believe maybe this year will be better than the last. I can't remember all the times I tried to tell myself to hold on to these moments as they pass."
-Counting Crows
Just a note to wish you all Happy Holidays and a Wonderful New Year! Things are going fine in Tanzania, I am a little poorer than I expected to be but hamnashida, as we would say here. (No Problems).
Now for a little story: Just went to the bank which is the prime example of Tanzanian inefficiency as the bank is almost always an all day experience. As I am waiting in line (I had already been there for an hour) and man after man cuts in front of me. I know this is a cultural difference here but I start to get a little pissed off. I am not sure if it is because I am a woman and therefore a second class citizen or because I am white so they think I don't know what is going on. But finally when the fourth guy cuts me, I throw a big hissy fit in the bank. Now usually I am able to keep my temper under control, but not today. So I tell them in Swahili "Not Cool", basically. They laugh at me but give me my way. For the next two hours of line standing we all sort of joke about it... "Haha, the foreigner knows whats going on and wouldn't let it happen." But the whole experience made me realize that equality is very ingrained in our culture. It doesn't always play out but for the most part Americans value equality, fairness and justice and get angry when we feel we are not being treated in a just manner.
I began to think that for most Americans we only apply this rule to other Americans, not to people in other countries. We figure that's just the way things are. There were countless times while working for Mercy Corps that I heard Americans say things like, "Well, all Africans are poor, that's just the way things are." (This is entirely untrue, many are and some are not.) or "We should be helping people in our own country." (We should, but why should arbitrary borders justify who receives help?) Anyways, the point of this is I would like to encourage people to extend our sense of equality over the boarders this holiday season. All people are people and should be treated fairly and have equal opportunity to success and happiness whether they are French, Iraqi, Cuban, Indian, Tanzanian or whatever. Please consider how you could be part of this change. What difference can you make? Volunteer for something or the holidays are always a good time to give a gift to an Aid Organization- I recommend Mercy Corps (www.mercycorps.org)
I hope the season is Merry and Bright. I love and miss all of you so much. Thanks you for the countless emails, packages and letters. I am so lucky to have all of you in my life. Be well.
Blessings,
Brie
www.brieintanzania.blogspot.com
"It's been a long December and there's reason to believe maybe this year will be better than the last. I can't remember all the times I tried to tell myself to hold on to these moments as they pass."
-Counting Crows
Friday, December 12, 2008
Fighting Witchcraft in a Pine Forest
December 11, 2008
There is a new volunteer who lives very close to me. I wanted to go visit her, so I told Jen and Juster what I was doing. The tell me there is a shortcut to get to her school that makes the walk only 7k, they will take me there. I tell them just to point me in the direction but Juster is insistent that they accompany me. So I tell them I want to leave at 8 am Thursday morning, which I really have no intention of doing, but sometimes you have to lie about time to Tanzanians. I go to Juster's house at 9 am to find her drinking chai. She says, "Brie, Don't mind, but I need to bathe." This I have already predicted. I know we are going on a walk in the Southern Highlands, so I have not bathed, I put my hair in a ponytail, am in a grungy skirt and have brought water. At 9.15, Jen and Juster bathe, they wear the equivalent of Tanzanian prom dresses, they shine their high heeled sandals, they put on their best wigs and they even wear make up. I realize meeting another American is a big deal for them. So I drink chai for a hour and a half while they get ready to "Exercise". Finally, they are more decked out than when they go to church and we sent off.
The walk is exhausting as I predicted but they manage pretty well in their heels... they only have to be removed on one downhill slope. After a while one of them realizes we are lost and so they both pull out their cell phone and start babbling away to different male teachers, who are worried because they have me lost in the woods. I am not worried and more amused by my two Tanzanian best friends who are dressed up and lost in the woods. Juster is afraid I am scared though so she tells me that is someone comes to steal from me again that she and Jen will beat him and fight for me. I laugh, I can't help it, you should see how ridiculous they look, but I appreciate the back up, all the same. We decide on one direction and start going. Finally we reach some one's farm where a small girl is working. Jen asks her where this school is and she says nothing but starts to lead us. They both ask her questions, none of which she answers. Finally, they start to speak English to each other, so that the girl doesn't understand, but I do and it is hilarious.
Jen: This girl does not answer anything we say.
Juster: Yes, I do not like this. She has red eyes. She is a witch.
Jen: Yes, I have realized this.
Me: (In My Head): What? I Have not realized this! How did I miss the red eyes?
Juster: You must dismiss her. She might be trapping us. Look, there is a forest, she could kill us there.
Jen: We can dismiss her or else she will become offended and kill us anyway.
Juster: That is true. (Turns to me) Brie, quickly say a prayer to God to save us.
Me: (I have to laugh at this point and sometimes I like to mess with Juster... so I say:) How about I say a prayer to the Goddess who probably lives in one of these beautiful pine trees. (I bow my head) Dear Goddess please protect us from this small six year old child who has red eyes and wants to take us here to kill us....
Juster: Americans are really so weird. Josh believes in no God and you believe in a woman in a tree. It is not right.
Miraculously, we make it through the forest to the school and the girl doesn't kill us. Shocker.
I like Tally immediately, from her pretty smile to her talkative personality I will enjoy her company immensely. She will be teaching biology at an all girls secondary school and we have already come up with some project ideas to do together. She has only been at site for a week and in country for three months. She is coming to visit me at my site on Monday. We walk to town together to buy stuff to make dinner. A woman at one of the shops asks her a question. I glance over at Tally and she is looking at me expectantly. I think: "Who is this girl in my role? It is my job to look at another volunteer for a translation." I am shocked she is expecting me to know what is going on, but I am even more shocked that I understand what is going on. So I patiently translate and then help her to answer, but I think "Since when do I know Swahili?" After that I am surprised I know many things that she asks. I tell her tricks to start her charcoal jiko, teach her greetings in Kibena, draw her a map of PC sites in our region, teach her how to make a candle holder out of paper and a water bottle, and answer her many questions about living alone in Africa, that I asked only a few months ago. I am surprised I know any answers. Since when did I learn how to survive in Africa? How did I not notice the change? I thought I was still as helpless as ever. Furthermore she is actually impressed with what I have done here and what I know, with the fact that Juster tells me she loves me when we say good bye. And I think, "Yeah, Maybe I do have some good relationships and things going here." It is a weird feeling to be impressing anyone.
Today, I am in Njombe to sort out getting a new bank card. On Saturday, I am going to a BBQ at the Kibena Club with Zummi and Adina and then to their house to stay the night, which is about as close as you can get to a vacation here without spending any money. Looking forward to seeing them as it has been some time since I have been in Dar and they have gone to Arusha. The next time I will come through Njombe will be for X-mas, though it doesn't feel like that time of year. Next week I will plant my garden and get through another week here. As I fix my house up I wonder about all those people who said they wanted to come visit. Who will be the first person to buy a ticket? I know it is expensive for the flight, but not once you are here. If you want to come to Africa this is the time and the place. Tanzania is wonderful: Zanzibar, the Serengeti, Kilimanjaro and Me! Please try to visit.
There is a new volunteer who lives very close to me. I wanted to go visit her, so I told Jen and Juster what I was doing. The tell me there is a shortcut to get to her school that makes the walk only 7k, they will take me there. I tell them just to point me in the direction but Juster is insistent that they accompany me. So I tell them I want to leave at 8 am Thursday morning, which I really have no intention of doing, but sometimes you have to lie about time to Tanzanians. I go to Juster's house at 9 am to find her drinking chai. She says, "Brie, Don't mind, but I need to bathe." This I have already predicted. I know we are going on a walk in the Southern Highlands, so I have not bathed, I put my hair in a ponytail, am in a grungy skirt and have brought water. At 9.15, Jen and Juster bathe, they wear the equivalent of Tanzanian prom dresses, they shine their high heeled sandals, they put on their best wigs and they even wear make up. I realize meeting another American is a big deal for them. So I drink chai for a hour and a half while they get ready to "Exercise". Finally, they are more decked out than when they go to church and we sent off.
The walk is exhausting as I predicted but they manage pretty well in their heels... they only have to be removed on one downhill slope. After a while one of them realizes we are lost and so they both pull out their cell phone and start babbling away to different male teachers, who are worried because they have me lost in the woods. I am not worried and more amused by my two Tanzanian best friends who are dressed up and lost in the woods. Juster is afraid I am scared though so she tells me that is someone comes to steal from me again that she and Jen will beat him and fight for me. I laugh, I can't help it, you should see how ridiculous they look, but I appreciate the back up, all the same. We decide on one direction and start going. Finally we reach some one's farm where a small girl is working. Jen asks her where this school is and she says nothing but starts to lead us. They both ask her questions, none of which she answers. Finally, they start to speak English to each other, so that the girl doesn't understand, but I do and it is hilarious.
Jen: This girl does not answer anything we say.
Juster: Yes, I do not like this. She has red eyes. She is a witch.
Jen: Yes, I have realized this.
Me: (In My Head): What? I Have not realized this! How did I miss the red eyes?
Juster: You must dismiss her. She might be trapping us. Look, there is a forest, she could kill us there.
Jen: We can dismiss her or else she will become offended and kill us anyway.
Juster: That is true. (Turns to me) Brie, quickly say a prayer to God to save us.
Me: (I have to laugh at this point and sometimes I like to mess with Juster... so I say:) How about I say a prayer to the Goddess who probably lives in one of these beautiful pine trees. (I bow my head) Dear Goddess please protect us from this small six year old child who has red eyes and wants to take us here to kill us....
Juster: Americans are really so weird. Josh believes in no God and you believe in a woman in a tree. It is not right.
Miraculously, we make it through the forest to the school and the girl doesn't kill us. Shocker.
I like Tally immediately, from her pretty smile to her talkative personality I will enjoy her company immensely. She will be teaching biology at an all girls secondary school and we have already come up with some project ideas to do together. She has only been at site for a week and in country for three months. She is coming to visit me at my site on Monday. We walk to town together to buy stuff to make dinner. A woman at one of the shops asks her a question. I glance over at Tally and she is looking at me expectantly. I think: "Who is this girl in my role? It is my job to look at another volunteer for a translation." I am shocked she is expecting me to know what is going on, but I am even more shocked that I understand what is going on. So I patiently translate and then help her to answer, but I think "Since when do I know Swahili?" After that I am surprised I know many things that she asks. I tell her tricks to start her charcoal jiko, teach her greetings in Kibena, draw her a map of PC sites in our region, teach her how to make a candle holder out of paper and a water bottle, and answer her many questions about living alone in Africa, that I asked only a few months ago. I am surprised I know any answers. Since when did I learn how to survive in Africa? How did I not notice the change? I thought I was still as helpless as ever. Furthermore she is actually impressed with what I have done here and what I know, with the fact that Juster tells me she loves me when we say good bye. And I think, "Yeah, Maybe I do have some good relationships and things going here." It is a weird feeling to be impressing anyone.
Today, I am in Njombe to sort out getting a new bank card. On Saturday, I am going to a BBQ at the Kibena Club with Zummi and Adina and then to their house to stay the night, which is about as close as you can get to a vacation here without spending any money. Looking forward to seeing them as it has been some time since I have been in Dar and they have gone to Arusha. The next time I will come through Njombe will be for X-mas, though it doesn't feel like that time of year. Next week I will plant my garden and get through another week here. As I fix my house up I wonder about all those people who said they wanted to come visit. Who will be the first person to buy a ticket? I know it is expensive for the flight, but not once you are here. If you want to come to Africa this is the time and the place. Tanzania is wonderful: Zanzibar, the Serengeti, Kilimanjaro and Me! Please try to visit.
Kimulimuli and My First African Wedding
December 6, 2008
The day I got back to village I felt relieved. Lonely, but relieved. Juster and the rest of the teachers were appalled at what happened to me in Dar. Juster had been so worried since I did not answer any of her phone calls that she actually cried and hugged me when she saw me. Then she told me that I am never allowed to go anywhere again without her as my bodyguard. (Which she said in English... It is amazing the words she knows.) So on that note I told her about in-service training (IST) which is an all expense paid trip for me and my Tanzanian counterpart to attend a two week long conference with the rest of the PCVs down here in Iringa. I am not sure I have ever seen her so happy. She screamed with delight and she told me she will be dreaming about it until it happens in January.
I have been talking on the phone or texting with Roma on a daily basis this week. It has been great for my Kiswahili as he is patient and corrects me in our phone conversations and before I text him I have to write it all out and then pull out my dictionary to decipher his texts. I am in the process of planning a bike trip for me, Margaret, Teresa, and the two new volunteers out our way to go and visit him. It might not be until after IST, but he is pushing for next Tuesday... Haha. But I am glad he is excited to see us. He has already promised drumming and dancing and that he is going to come to my village to visit me soon.
And then there is Kimulimuli... Where do I start? I now own something that looks like Golom from Lord of the Rings. I have wondered often why I got into the business of helping people, when usually I prefer animals. Animals don't love conditionally, they are uncomplicated and I feel for them. Which I guess is how I ended up with a bat cat. Kimulimuli (Means firefly in Swahili) now officially live together, and everyday I am surprised that we have both made it through the day alive. Kimulimuli's soul goal in life is to drive me crazy. It is slightly bigger than my fist and the most pathetic animal you have ever met. It's eyes bug out of it's head. It's ears are abnormally large. Really it is the most ridiculous animal I have ever seen. It doesn't even clean itself or know how to retract it's claws. In fact, it can't do anything. It's mouth is always open making ridiculous noise, it can't be alone for a minute. I feed it and feed it and it eats and eats and already it has gained weight in the week we have co-habited. (But I am sure he would enjoy some high fat kitty treats from America). He climbs up me constantly... I am not sure what he would do once he got to my face but I don't want to find out. He is like a primary school student that you want to hold and love but are unsure of what you might catch if you do. It is hard to believe it is the same species and my beloved Angel Baby Cat in America. I don't know how I will ever get any work done with it all over me. Oh- I am going to get fleas. Being lonely might be better than this. I don't know why I wanted something to take care of. It is hard enough to care for myself.
I went to my first Tanzanian wedding today. I have been to eight funerals, so I am sort of an expert on those, but didn't know what to expect for a wedding. It was fun for about the first 3 hours, but for the last four I was tired and thirsty. (Yep- That's right seven hours, it took all day and there wasn't even any booze involved.) This wedding was a big deal because the man was from my village but the bride was from another one (Roma's actually, but he was not there.) So There was lots of excitement about the merging of the two communities. It started out inside the church but got too big and moved outside in the church yard and then moved again to this random central area in our village. There was a lot of singing, dancing, chanting, hooting, ululating, drumming and all around noise making. I doubt if you put a group of Americans together and told them to make noise at random it would sound good, but when Africans do it the noise somehow works and is beautiful. At I guess what would be the reception, I sat in these seats of honor with the rest of the male teachers, which was a bit weird because we are not related to the family, but the teachers in my village are considered the most important people, but somehow I always get segregated with the men. Until it was time for dancing when I was forced to dance with the female teachers in front of my entire village. Yep, that's right, Brie dancing in the middle of a random African village. Good thing the African dance classes paid off... my village loved it. I am not sure I have ever been so embarrassed, yet it was the biggest thing I have done so far to be included. I can tell suddenly now the villagers feel closer with me, like I am suddenly on there level. When I got home I found a present from Kimulimuli on my couch... and not the type you like to get.
The day I got back to village I felt relieved. Lonely, but relieved. Juster and the rest of the teachers were appalled at what happened to me in Dar. Juster had been so worried since I did not answer any of her phone calls that she actually cried and hugged me when she saw me. Then she told me that I am never allowed to go anywhere again without her as my bodyguard. (Which she said in English... It is amazing the words she knows.) So on that note I told her about in-service training (IST) which is an all expense paid trip for me and my Tanzanian counterpart to attend a two week long conference with the rest of the PCVs down here in Iringa. I am not sure I have ever seen her so happy. She screamed with delight and she told me she will be dreaming about it until it happens in January.
I have been talking on the phone or texting with Roma on a daily basis this week. It has been great for my Kiswahili as he is patient and corrects me in our phone conversations and before I text him I have to write it all out and then pull out my dictionary to decipher his texts. I am in the process of planning a bike trip for me, Margaret, Teresa, and the two new volunteers out our way to go and visit him. It might not be until after IST, but he is pushing for next Tuesday... Haha. But I am glad he is excited to see us. He has already promised drumming and dancing and that he is going to come to my village to visit me soon.
And then there is Kimulimuli... Where do I start? I now own something that looks like Golom from Lord of the Rings. I have wondered often why I got into the business of helping people, when usually I prefer animals. Animals don't love conditionally, they are uncomplicated and I feel for them. Which I guess is how I ended up with a bat cat. Kimulimuli (Means firefly in Swahili) now officially live together, and everyday I am surprised that we have both made it through the day alive. Kimulimuli's soul goal in life is to drive me crazy. It is slightly bigger than my fist and the most pathetic animal you have ever met. It's eyes bug out of it's head. It's ears are abnormally large. Really it is the most ridiculous animal I have ever seen. It doesn't even clean itself or know how to retract it's claws. In fact, it can't do anything. It's mouth is always open making ridiculous noise, it can't be alone for a minute. I feed it and feed it and it eats and eats and already it has gained weight in the week we have co-habited. (But I am sure he would enjoy some high fat kitty treats from America). He climbs up me constantly... I am not sure what he would do once he got to my face but I don't want to find out. He is like a primary school student that you want to hold and love but are unsure of what you might catch if you do. It is hard to believe it is the same species and my beloved Angel Baby Cat in America. I don't know how I will ever get any work done with it all over me. Oh- I am going to get fleas. Being lonely might be better than this. I don't know why I wanted something to take care of. It is hard enough to care for myself.
I went to my first Tanzanian wedding today. I have been to eight funerals, so I am sort of an expert on those, but didn't know what to expect for a wedding. It was fun for about the first 3 hours, but for the last four I was tired and thirsty. (Yep- That's right seven hours, it took all day and there wasn't even any booze involved.) This wedding was a big deal because the man was from my village but the bride was from another one (Roma's actually, but he was not there.) So There was lots of excitement about the merging of the two communities. It started out inside the church but got too big and moved outside in the church yard and then moved again to this random central area in our village. There was a lot of singing, dancing, chanting, hooting, ululating, drumming and all around noise making. I doubt if you put a group of Americans together and told them to make noise at random it would sound good, but when Africans do it the noise somehow works and is beautiful. At I guess what would be the reception, I sat in these seats of honor with the rest of the male teachers, which was a bit weird because we are not related to the family, but the teachers in my village are considered the most important people, but somehow I always get segregated with the men. Until it was time for dancing when I was forced to dance with the female teachers in front of my entire village. Yep, that's right, Brie dancing in the middle of a random African village. Good thing the African dance classes paid off... my village loved it. I am not sure I have ever been so embarrassed, yet it was the biggest thing I have done so far to be included. I can tell suddenly now the villagers feel closer with me, like I am suddenly on there level. When I got home I found a present from Kimulimuli on my couch... and not the type you like to get.
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