Entry via Letter
There must be a shout-out to all those who are fighting for my sanity and sugar withdrawal on the home front. First, thank-you-vivid reader of my blog, for procrastinating whatever activity you were productively performing (studying, putting pointless car parts on to a car feeding the cat) to stop and read my blog. By reading about my experience with African culture you are helping me teach and bring the culture home to you. This is one of Peace Corps goals, and your avid viewership helps me fulfill it.
Second, a monumental thanks to all you who send me letters. I love to read them. I love to write quirky responses. Giving me news and pictures from home helps me stay informed and keeps the home sickness at bay, thank-you!
Finally, to all you dedicated senders of packages, I must publically declare for both you and the contents of your gifts my undying love, and also the delight of the students who have also benefitted from the contents.
Lillian Swenka, Jeanna Bryant and crew sent me a surprise package that arrived just before Thanksgiving, containing pictures (!) and Halloween candy and treats. When my student and I opened this package we immediately ate the entire package of double stuffed Oreos and bag of candy corn, and thus learned an important lesson “when one eats America food, one becomes very sick”. I personally felt that it was WORTH IT. A large hit in the package were the pictures that I hung on my wall. My friends Jeanna and John became instant celebrities because of their dogs – full bread Great Danes Wyatt and Evey, who appear in many photos. Students now ask if these dogs are used in farming, if all dogs in America are that big, and if Jeanna can bring her dogs to visit. Students also got a taste of American culture through the Halloween-theme package when they saw pictures of Pumpkin carvings and flipped through the Halloween book – amazed and slightly appalled that American children dressed like “hooligans” and then had the audacity to ask people for candy. They were even more surprised when I told them most people gave them candy. The package was a delicious learning experience for us all, and I’m personally thankful for my crew at home for thinking about me! ☺
My beautiful niece Alexa and her extremely intelligent caregivers sent me package number 2 – which arrived on a “Christmas-like” day when I received 3 packages. Pictures of my brother’s family already hang throughout my house- my students and mama’s alike are always shocked that my “poor brother” only has one daughter (instead of 6) – yet the wizened nurses at the dispensary applaud the great example of “American family planning”. This package was anther learning experience as I was able to explain the tradition of stockings, ornaments, and snowmen – which Alexa had drawn on a Christmas card with a thought bubble stating – “I would rather be in Tanzania!” All of the candy was swiftly hidden by one student when another cam knocking on my door (“teacher you must hide the candy or we will have to share”) and even the Hy-Vee sacks that were used as packing materials became prized (you have to pay for plastic bags here!). One of the most thoughtful gifts was a ball of yarn and collar for my cat Pepsi. The minute I lifted if from the box she must have known it was hers, because she grabbed it in her mouth and leaped off the table-running to a corner of the room where she proceeded to rip it apart – and growl ominously at anyone with the nerve to walk within 3 feet of her and her gift. Thought the package made me miss not spending Charismas at my brother’s house with his family, the prized contents of the package will hang in my room until next X-mas!
My grandparents sent package number 4, the contents of which I feared had suffered damage since the box was badly battered. I soon was at ease though as when I opened the thread of tape holding it shut and saw my grandma’s card and Christmas picture smiling back at me. In a country where towels are expensive and extremely hard to find, she had sent me enough to last me the next two years. Though my students didn’t understand why I got so excited over towels when there was a stack of pipi marekani (American candy) left in the box – I knew Grandma was thoughtful as always when she packed the box. Probably the most prized part of the gift was the small oatmeal container – the vessel of choice when Grandma delivers cookies – a rare glance is usually sited right after the delivery of such cookies, before they disappear to a location only known by my father. Miraculously, each of the sugar – cookies had survived the trip to Tanzania and they were delicious! After putting away our gigs and sitting down to tea with these cookies, my student banged his glass down on the table and stated “God bless Bibi Manekani (American grandmother) for sending biscoti Marekani (cookies)”. He followed this up by asking when my Grandma was coming to Tanzania to visit. The cookies, candies, towels, and other treats were all hidden in a secure location, and my Grandparents picture hangs on my wall for all to see, all impressed and shocked when I tell them my Grandparents are both 85 and 86.
The final package was mostly celebrated by me – as it contained products essential to my personal hygiene. One student claimed that my parents “didn’t like me as much” as my brother’s family and grandparents because everything they sent was an indication that my parents “do not approve of your overall cleanliness”. Oh if they only knew. My parents also sent my sharpie collection, which even now is at work making time-tables and posters for the up-coming school year. My parents are constantly keeping up my sanity behind-the-scenes, posting my blogs and updating me on American politics once a week – I wouldn’t be the same here without their love and support.
To become a part of package pandemonium, the membership is simple – cram items into small box, take to post office – mail. For those already dedicated members you again have my deepest heartfelt thanks, your letters and packages give me that little taste of home that I miss every now and then when I’m defending my candy from rats or scratching mosquito bites. Thank-you!
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Monday, December 29, 2008
No Pain No Gain
Entry via Letter
I decided it was time to weed and finish planting my garden around the time I got home form Dar. The beds had been previously double dug by volunteers among my students, but the needed sprucing and weeding now that the rain had arrived with a vengeance and turned all the dust bowl area around my home into a tropical paradise. My students all absent, I proudly wielded my hoe, weeded and sowed seeds into the garden alone, causing huge blood blisters to well up on my hands and kinks in my arms and back that not even Ibuprofen could cure. These blisters ended up being my celebratory flag however, as I went to the village later in the day to visit my mamas. They nodded politely when I told them I planted a garden, but the minute I showed them my hands they broke into grins and ran their fingers constantly over the angry bumps. One mama held my hand in hers then showed me the calluses on her own hands, saying that now I was truly a mama of Tanzania.
My master plan for the garden is to harvest the different vegetables and fruits, showing all of the mamas and taking them as gifts, before teaching a permaculture seminar later in the year where we can start to make small family gardens with these new seeds close to their homes. It may be difficult to convince a generation of mamas to plant new crops, but I’ hoping that my generation of mamas (between ages 16 – 24) will be convinced by the yummy fruits and vegetables and be willing to try the double-digging gardening process…time will tell.
My own garden now contains pumpkins, two types of cabbage water melon, papaya trees, green peppers, beans, chickpeas, cucumbers, carrots, onions, basil, chives, and corn. The garden isn’t huge; I sued a technique called companion planting to place plants that would grow together, together. The result is a garden that deters bugs, prevents erosion of soil (by using compost) and grows large, healthy vegetables. Of course after months of only rice and beans I’m increasingly becoming more exited about eating these veggies as well.
I decided it was time to weed and finish planting my garden around the time I got home form Dar. The beds had been previously double dug by volunteers among my students, but the needed sprucing and weeding now that the rain had arrived with a vengeance and turned all the dust bowl area around my home into a tropical paradise. My students all absent, I proudly wielded my hoe, weeded and sowed seeds into the garden alone, causing huge blood blisters to well up on my hands and kinks in my arms and back that not even Ibuprofen could cure. These blisters ended up being my celebratory flag however, as I went to the village later in the day to visit my mamas. They nodded politely when I told them I planted a garden, but the minute I showed them my hands they broke into grins and ran their fingers constantly over the angry bumps. One mama held my hand in hers then showed me the calluses on her own hands, saying that now I was truly a mama of Tanzania.
My master plan for the garden is to harvest the different vegetables and fruits, showing all of the mamas and taking them as gifts, before teaching a permaculture seminar later in the year where we can start to make small family gardens with these new seeds close to their homes. It may be difficult to convince a generation of mamas to plant new crops, but I’ hoping that my generation of mamas (between ages 16 – 24) will be convinced by the yummy fruits and vegetables and be willing to try the double-digging gardening process…time will tell.
My own garden now contains pumpkins, two types of cabbage water melon, papaya trees, green peppers, beans, chickpeas, cucumbers, carrots, onions, basil, chives, and corn. The garden isn’t huge; I sued a technique called companion planting to place plants that would grow together, together. The result is a garden that deters bugs, prevents erosion of soil (by using compost) and grows large, healthy vegetables. Of course after months of only rice and beans I’m increasingly becoming more exited about eating these veggies as well.
Busy as a Bee
Entry via Letter
I have been slack on my blog writing duties lately and for this I do apologize, my student and I visited and brought solar power from Dar, I waged and lost a battle against Tanzanian transportation, and the rainy season has increased the amount of insects grass, and snakes in my area – justifying even more my choice to sleep with a machete at night. Oh, I also planted a garden.
The Solar Adventure began on the week after we closed the school. My student, a teach, and I left by bust at the crack of dawn to go to Dar es Salaam, eager to arrive there before dark. The student had never been to Dar es Salaam and so for 9 hours I was woken up to the sound of – “Mwalimu, look at all those people”, Mwalimu is that the Indian Ocean”, “Mwalimu, why are you so tired – don’t you like riding the bus?” (When he woke me up to ask me why I was tired I very nearly strangled him). We arrived in Dar in one piece, and carried on our business as usual, I left to visit my family in Kilosa and my travel companions left to visit theirs in Dar es Salaam. The fun began when I returned and we left to embark on the solar adventure.
Finding solar panels in Dar is a difficult process, mostly due to the number of people selling fake panels, and also the number of vendors who increase the price by 4-500$ when they see a white person. After a 3 hours long walk through the hot streets of Dar, we finally settled on 3 panels, a battery, inverter, and controller that brought me in a little under my set budget, and then we attempted to lug our heavy cargo through e streets of Dar, not an easy feat. We then packed skill-fully each of the heavy and cumbersome items into one of the already bulging 4 bags my student and I were carrying for the 12 hour bus-ride back home.
As is usual for Tanzania, transportation was the most difficult factor in the solar equation. We laid the panels across our laps for the bumpy 12 hours, and then jumped off the bus in the pouring rain (contents of 1 bag falling into the mud) to unload our cargo at the home of another volunteer, whose village is 40-60 k from my own. We felt that getting off in Ngaga would be easier than waiting until Newala and balancing our parcels precariously for the 2 hour walk down the mountain – though I’ll never know what may have happened if we had gone through Newala, I don know that the Ngaga route was not “easier”.
Ngaga is a village on the junction of 2 roads, one heading to Newala, the other passing through smaller villages until Unveira, a large village 6 k away from my own. Loris – open ended trucks that carry people crammed like sardines on the back – pass through Ngaga through most of the day, on heading to Makong’onda around 3 pm. We waited for this lori at the bus stand starting at noon, but by 3:30 pm and after 2 hours of on and off rain we were becoming concerned. A lori passing to a different village stopped and informed us the Marko lori has passed on a different road in the village before Ngaga, they would not be passing through today, so would have to wait until tomorrow. At this point, after being in the same outfit for 3 days straight (including sleeping) covered in mud and still quite damp and sweaty from the present weather, I angrily began to explore other options to get home. The first car I consulted said they would take me – for 70$. The lori who brought the bad news offered to drop us in Makong’onda, altering their route by 10k, for 40$. Also – we would be riding in the back (uncovered) with the rain in a bed already packed to the gills with other people. My favorite offer was from the people with motorcycles, who said we could strap the solar panels and 4 bags to tone bike, and then the student and I could both ride another bike – again for 40$. I refused both rides in the best interest of the expensive solar panels and accessories-sitting in the front of the restaurant daring someone to come try to take them (when we returned to Mako we discovered my camera was gone), and we waited for anther alternative. At 6 pm, this option presented itself in the form of a phone call, stating another lori was coming around 6:30. We relocated from on stand to anther and waited in the pouring rain with two other women hopeful to get to Mako. We did this until 7:30, when it was too dark to see through the sheets of rain, and hauled the load back through mud to the volunteers home – resigned to the through the lori was not coming (it passed Ngaga 30 minutes later at 8pm).
Day 2 of waiting was begun with a bright spot, as we met a man driving some nurses from one village to anther, who told us eventually he would reach Makong’onda. He told us he would be happy to give us a free ride to Mako, and he would pick up his nurse and pass by in 20 minutes. Sipping our celebratory sodas at the stand, we watched as the land rover approached us then left us in the dust, the driver laughing and waging and the single nurse in the back seat taking a smirking glance as they passed. It was at this point I began doubting my ability to get through the day without causing someone physical harm.
The student and I hopped a ride (with all our baggage) to the near by village where the lori to Mako would turn to the alternative road. We waited there for 2 hours until the lori passed then we hoped aboard, only to find the lori headed back to Ngaga, having decided not to take the alterative road that day. The conductor charge us 6$ (2$ more than it should have been, but hey-it was lower then 40$) and we bounded, bumped, and slid our way back to Mako- where 3 students rant to greet me and carry our load. As we got off the lori the conductor made a near fatal error, telling me that I now had to pay an extra dollar because of the load we had carried. Unfortunate for him, I knew that we had already paid 2$ over the original price, but fortunately for him my student saw the look of death in my eyes-the same look I get right before I kill tarantulas in my home – and he pulled me by the arm away from the conductor who I had begun verbally assaulting . The condo stood shocked and people in the lori shrieked with laugher as the angry white girl yelled in fairly accurate Kiswahili that he was a stupid pig for trying to charge extra money for being a white person. – all while being herded away from the scene by students who were trying very hard not to laugh themselves.
As I sit here writing this story at 9 pm by the glowing light of a solar lamp and not the fickle dart of a lantern light, I find the story slightly more humorous. Slightly.
I have been slack on my blog writing duties lately and for this I do apologize, my student and I visited and brought solar power from Dar, I waged and lost a battle against Tanzanian transportation, and the rainy season has increased the amount of insects grass, and snakes in my area – justifying even more my choice to sleep with a machete at night. Oh, I also planted a garden.
The Solar Adventure began on the week after we closed the school. My student, a teach, and I left by bust at the crack of dawn to go to Dar es Salaam, eager to arrive there before dark. The student had never been to Dar es Salaam and so for 9 hours I was woken up to the sound of – “Mwalimu, look at all those people”, Mwalimu is that the Indian Ocean”, “Mwalimu, why are you so tired – don’t you like riding the bus?” (When he woke me up to ask me why I was tired I very nearly strangled him). We arrived in Dar in one piece, and carried on our business as usual, I left to visit my family in Kilosa and my travel companions left to visit theirs in Dar es Salaam. The fun began when I returned and we left to embark on the solar adventure.
Finding solar panels in Dar is a difficult process, mostly due to the number of people selling fake panels, and also the number of vendors who increase the price by 4-500$ when they see a white person. After a 3 hours long walk through the hot streets of Dar, we finally settled on 3 panels, a battery, inverter, and controller that brought me in a little under my set budget, and then we attempted to lug our heavy cargo through e streets of Dar, not an easy feat. We then packed skill-fully each of the heavy and cumbersome items into one of the already bulging 4 bags my student and I were carrying for the 12 hour bus-ride back home.
As is usual for Tanzania, transportation was the most difficult factor in the solar equation. We laid the panels across our laps for the bumpy 12 hours, and then jumped off the bus in the pouring rain (contents of 1 bag falling into the mud) to unload our cargo at the home of another volunteer, whose village is 40-60 k from my own. We felt that getting off in Ngaga would be easier than waiting until Newala and balancing our parcels precariously for the 2 hour walk down the mountain – though I’ll never know what may have happened if we had gone through Newala, I don know that the Ngaga route was not “easier”.
Ngaga is a village on the junction of 2 roads, one heading to Newala, the other passing through smaller villages until Unveira, a large village 6 k away from my own. Loris – open ended trucks that carry people crammed like sardines on the back – pass through Ngaga through most of the day, on heading to Makong’onda around 3 pm. We waited for this lori at the bus stand starting at noon, but by 3:30 pm and after 2 hours of on and off rain we were becoming concerned. A lori passing to a different village stopped and informed us the Marko lori has passed on a different road in the village before Ngaga, they would not be passing through today, so would have to wait until tomorrow. At this point, after being in the same outfit for 3 days straight (including sleeping) covered in mud and still quite damp and sweaty from the present weather, I angrily began to explore other options to get home. The first car I consulted said they would take me – for 70$. The lori who brought the bad news offered to drop us in Makong’onda, altering their route by 10k, for 40$. Also – we would be riding in the back (uncovered) with the rain in a bed already packed to the gills with other people. My favorite offer was from the people with motorcycles, who said we could strap the solar panels and 4 bags to tone bike, and then the student and I could both ride another bike – again for 40$. I refused both rides in the best interest of the expensive solar panels and accessories-sitting in the front of the restaurant daring someone to come try to take them (when we returned to Mako we discovered my camera was gone), and we waited for anther alternative. At 6 pm, this option presented itself in the form of a phone call, stating another lori was coming around 6:30. We relocated from on stand to anther and waited in the pouring rain with two other women hopeful to get to Mako. We did this until 7:30, when it was too dark to see through the sheets of rain, and hauled the load back through mud to the volunteers home – resigned to the through the lori was not coming (it passed Ngaga 30 minutes later at 8pm).
Day 2 of waiting was begun with a bright spot, as we met a man driving some nurses from one village to anther, who told us eventually he would reach Makong’onda. He told us he would be happy to give us a free ride to Mako, and he would pick up his nurse and pass by in 20 minutes. Sipping our celebratory sodas at the stand, we watched as the land rover approached us then left us in the dust, the driver laughing and waging and the single nurse in the back seat taking a smirking glance as they passed. It was at this point I began doubting my ability to get through the day without causing someone physical harm.
The student and I hopped a ride (with all our baggage) to the near by village where the lori to Mako would turn to the alternative road. We waited there for 2 hours until the lori passed then we hoped aboard, only to find the lori headed back to Ngaga, having decided not to take the alterative road that day. The conductor charge us 6$ (2$ more than it should have been, but hey-it was lower then 40$) and we bounded, bumped, and slid our way back to Mako- where 3 students rant to greet me and carry our load. As we got off the lori the conductor made a near fatal error, telling me that I now had to pay an extra dollar because of the load we had carried. Unfortunate for him, I knew that we had already paid 2$ over the original price, but fortunately for him my student saw the look of death in my eyes-the same look I get right before I kill tarantulas in my home – and he pulled me by the arm away from the conductor who I had begun verbally assaulting . The condo stood shocked and people in the lori shrieked with laugher as the angry white girl yelled in fairly accurate Kiswahili that he was a stupid pig for trying to charge extra money for being a white person. – all while being herded away from the scene by students who were trying very hard not to laugh themselves.
As I sit here writing this story at 9 pm by the glowing light of a solar lamp and not the fickle dart of a lantern light, I find the story slightly more humorous. Slightly.
The Tanzanian Blog Song (hum to the tune of "Camp Grenada")
Entry via Letter
Dearest Daddy, Mama Mia,
Here I am in Tanzania
Lots of rain here, we’ve been getting
And they say we’ll have some fun when I stop sweating.
You remember, my cat Pepsi
She’s developed narcolepsy.
To my house she should provide protection
But she snores at rat's who pass by her direction.
Chorus:
Come seeeeee me! Oh dear mom and dad
Come seeeeee me! I’d be so glad to see you
our cuisine, leaves, ants, rice and of course gallons of plain red beans.
Come seeeeee me! I promise I will not make noise,
And introduce you to the boys,
Who want to marry me
to get their green card-ee!
As I sit here, and it’s storming
I am thinking of our dear Gormie
The weather here would, confuse him greatly,
Rain, heat, and sun all work together simultaneous-ly
Writing now, its, getting hotter,
My students tell me to go fetch water,
From the pump that rarely has power,
Lucky if twice a week were all able to shower
Students now saying “Teacher end your letter”
“Your silly rhymes aren’t getting any better”
“To the soccer field we go to play and jog”,
Daddy kindly read and add this to my blog!
Dearest Daddy, Mama Mia,
Here I am in Tanzania
Lots of rain here, we’ve been getting
And they say we’ll have some fun when I stop sweating.
You remember, my cat Pepsi
She’s developed narcolepsy.
To my house she should provide protection
But she snores at rat's who pass by her direction.
Chorus:
Come seeeeee me! Oh dear mom and dad
Come seeeeee me! I’d be so glad to see you
our cuisine, leaves, ants, rice and of course gallons of plain red beans.
Come seeeeee me! I promise I will not make noise,
And introduce you to the boys,
Who want to marry me
to get their green card-ee!
As I sit here, and it’s storming
I am thinking of our dear Gormie
The weather here would, confuse him greatly,
Rain, heat, and sun all work together simultaneous-ly
Writing now, its, getting hotter,
My students tell me to go fetch water,
From the pump that rarely has power,
Lucky if twice a week were all able to shower
Students now saying “Teacher end your letter”
“Your silly rhymes aren’t getting any better”
“To the soccer field we go to play and jog”,
Daddy kindly read and add this to my blog!
Sunday, November 30, 2008
World AIDs Days
Entry via Letter
As November wound to a close, I found myself looking forward to the world AIDS Day celebration in Newala, which took place the Saturday before the actual day. We had decided to take our Peer educators up to Newala for the event, to see what type of event we could hold for AIDs awareness here. Six of us traveled up the Newala mountain with teacher Amos in tow at 5:30 am Saturday morning. We arrived hot and covered in sweat, but excited at the prospect of seeing the day’s events. At the AIDs - day celebration, - Newalympics – there were many games for children to play, including basketball, soccer, track (which we were in charge of) netball, volleyball and finally, dodge ball. We started the day (before continuing on to track) by playing basketball with fellow PC volunteer Atif. After a game that was filled with double dribbles and cheap foul shots we left to continue on with track – though all day I had to listen to my Students ask me were “Jordan” (Atif being an African American Volunteer whose basketball ability they found identical to Michael Jordon’s) learned to play basketball like that, and when he was going to come teach them to play. We ran the children races around the track, and had more than 40 kids come to compete, and at the end of the day we had 2 MVPs to present gifts to at the ending ceremony – a huge event that attracted many children.
Overall, the even resulted in a little over 140 being tested for HIV AIDs, a very sucessful number for the event, and over the 120 estimated turn out! The drama and songs throughout the day were done before a huge audience, and many people enjoyed the variety of entertainment.After the event, all of the kids and I went to find food and then to find Jerusha’s house, where she allowed us to spend the night. The day was long and they all soon crashed into the beds, cushions, and whatever they could find in her home to sleep on – Jerusha, who was exhausted from the planning of the huge event, was so great to all of the kids despite being tired, and as we left two of them whispered to me that they wanted to come again!
The way home from the event may have been the most rewarding. All of the kids, including shy Jennifer, began plotting ideas for what they could do for World AIDs Day next year in our village, asking me how many volunteers could come help, if Michael Jordon (aka Atif) could come teach basketball, how many people we could test for AIDs, and all of the drama, singing we could do to spread the word about AIDs. The excitement they had to get started was enough to inspire me on the walk back down the hill, excited to get started and accomplish great things in Makong’onda. I have a slight feeling of pride in the fact that I helped, inspire these students to get started!
As November wound to a close, I found myself looking forward to the world AIDS Day celebration in Newala, which took place the Saturday before the actual day. We had decided to take our Peer educators up to Newala for the event, to see what type of event we could hold for AIDs awareness here. Six of us traveled up the Newala mountain with teacher Amos in tow at 5:30 am Saturday morning. We arrived hot and covered in sweat, but excited at the prospect of seeing the day’s events. At the AIDs - day celebration, - Newalympics – there were many games for children to play, including basketball, soccer, track (which we were in charge of) netball, volleyball and finally, dodge ball. We started the day (before continuing on to track) by playing basketball with fellow PC volunteer Atif. After a game that was filled with double dribbles and cheap foul shots we left to continue on with track – though all day I had to listen to my Students ask me were “Jordan” (Atif being an African American Volunteer whose basketball ability they found identical to Michael Jordon’s) learned to play basketball like that, and when he was going to come teach them to play. We ran the children races around the track, and had more than 40 kids come to compete, and at the end of the day we had 2 MVPs to present gifts to at the ending ceremony – a huge event that attracted many children.
Overall, the even resulted in a little over 140 being tested for HIV AIDs, a very sucessful number for the event, and over the 120 estimated turn out! The drama and songs throughout the day were done before a huge audience, and many people enjoyed the variety of entertainment.After the event, all of the kids and I went to find food and then to find Jerusha’s house, where she allowed us to spend the night. The day was long and they all soon crashed into the beds, cushions, and whatever they could find in her home to sleep on – Jerusha, who was exhausted from the planning of the huge event, was so great to all of the kids despite being tired, and as we left two of them whispered to me that they wanted to come again!
The way home from the event may have been the most rewarding. All of the kids, including shy Jennifer, began plotting ideas for what they could do for World AIDs Day next year in our village, asking me how many volunteers could come help, if Michael Jordon (aka Atif) could come teach basketball, how many people we could test for AIDs, and all of the drama, singing we could do to spread the word about AIDs. The excitement they had to get started was enough to inspire me on the walk back down the hill, excited to get started and accomplish great things in Makong’onda. I have a slight feeling of pride in the fact that I helped, inspire these students to get started!
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Monkey Business
Entry via Letter:
By Friday I had finished most of my exam grading and had started to work on other big looming projects, like closing my house in order to leave for Thanksgiving. I was just leaving to take a bucket bath when there was a knock at my door. I ran out the back way (after putting on more than just my towel) to find my friend Chili sitting there with 2 of my students – and a baby monkey. I immediately started gushing about how cute the monkey was and how much I’ve seen them in Tanzania, snapping pictures all the while as 50 small children (who had followed the monkey) ran about the yard. As I wrapped up my pictures I began to thank everyone, and then the first shocking statement was made – “Mwalimu Mirinda, for 3000 shlling we will sell you this monkey”. A look of shock crossed my face and I immediately replied – “you want me to buy this monkey”? Chili immediately shook his head and replied “you are right, 3000 is too much – for 2000 we will sell you the monkey”. I immediately launched into a series of explanations of why I couldn’t possibly allow a monkey to stay in my house.
“What would I feed him Chili?”
“Fruit” He then fed the monkey, whose cute little paws curled around the fruit.
“He will bite Pepsi”, I countered.
“No, he will be Pepsi’s friend and bring her fruit” He replied.
“What if he bites me, Chili” I pleaded, “I could get very sick.”
“Silly Mwalimu, he won’t bite you, he is a nice monkey” he said as he patted the monkey on the head.
Exasperated, I finally had to pull out the big guns.
“Chili, if Peace Corps found out a monkey lived here they would make me leave; we aren’t allowed to have monkeys.”
I felt bad when I saw Chili’s crestfallen expression, but he took that monkey and those 50 squealing children right off my porch and waved as he led the monkey parade down the street and in to the dusk.
This is how I did not come to own a 2 dollar baby monkey.
By Friday I had finished most of my exam grading and had started to work on other big looming projects, like closing my house in order to leave for Thanksgiving. I was just leaving to take a bucket bath when there was a knock at my door. I ran out the back way (after putting on more than just my towel) to find my friend Chili sitting there with 2 of my students – and a baby monkey. I immediately started gushing about how cute the monkey was and how much I’ve seen them in Tanzania, snapping pictures all the while as 50 small children (who had followed the monkey) ran about the yard. As I wrapped up my pictures I began to thank everyone, and then the first shocking statement was made – “Mwalimu Mirinda, for 3000 shlling we will sell you this monkey”. A look of shock crossed my face and I immediately replied – “you want me to buy this monkey”? Chili immediately shook his head and replied “you are right, 3000 is too much – for 2000 we will sell you the monkey”. I immediately launched into a series of explanations of why I couldn’t possibly allow a monkey to stay in my house.
“What would I feed him Chili?”
“Fruit” He then fed the monkey, whose cute little paws curled around the fruit.
“He will bite Pepsi”, I countered.
“No, he will be Pepsi’s friend and bring her fruit” He replied.
“What if he bites me, Chili” I pleaded, “I could get very sick.”
“Silly Mwalimu, he won’t bite you, he is a nice monkey” he said as he patted the monkey on the head.
Exasperated, I finally had to pull out the big guns.
“Chili, if Peace Corps found out a monkey lived here they would make me leave; we aren’t allowed to have monkeys.”
I felt bad when I saw Chili’s crestfallen expression, but he took that monkey and those 50 squealing children right off my porch and waved as he led the monkey parade down the street and in to the dusk.
This is how I did not come to own a 2 dollar baby monkey.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Life' Little Lessons
Entry via Letter
Its funny when you reach that point in life where you finally realize you are looking through the other side of the mirror, when we had those huge pop-bottle glasses (in my case bright pink) that were cool-until we hit, high school and ransacked the house trying to hide the evidence of this fashion disaster, and none of us realize how truly annoying we are as college freshmen until we hit that senior year. My life lesson came to me in flashbacks throughout the balmy day as I graded the huge stack of papers that litter my table underneath rocks, saucers, and anything else that can serve as a paper weight in my windowless and thus wind-tunnelesque home.
I flashed back to high school when my lit teacher pleaded with us not to just make stuff up and write it down, as it was more work for her but less points for us. I also flashed to my Spanish teacher, who used to chide us for making up words that looked like they were Spanish and then use them on our tests. As I corrected over 240 essay tests this week, crossing out made up English words and writing lines through the same thing said 4 different ways, I can now totally sympathize with every teacher who ever had me as a student. I’m glad for one great difference though - a difference I believe would help the children of America in their education should they be privileged enough to partake, and that is the close relationship I have with all of my students.
Originally I thought students would not want to be anywhere near me after school, but here it is a sign of respect to always help the teachers, and as such I’m constantly surrounded by students, asking questions, borrowing books, carrying my water, or even taking naps on my porch with my cat. It’s not just the “mzungu” factor either; the other teachers are also constantly surrounded by students, always looking for ways to help around our homes, on the school grounds, or simply wanting to hang out. These relationships benefit everyone, I’ve learned more about Tanzanian culture as my students teach me to balance a water bucket on my head, build a nest for chicken eggs, and braid my hair so that it looks more African, and in return the students ask more questions in class, participate and pay attention (They all learned the hard way that once I learn their names I call on them all the time).
In Closing – to all teachers who ever had me in a class – who thought I wasn’t paying good enough attention, or who had to read an essay where I repeated the same thing over and over again – and then read everyone else’s tests of a similar nature: Thank-you. When I think of the fact that I’ve only been doing this for 3 months while some teachers carriers can exceed 30 years, it only deepens my respect for every teacher I’ve had the privilege to learn from.
Its funny when you reach that point in life where you finally realize you are looking through the other side of the mirror, when we had those huge pop-bottle glasses (in my case bright pink) that were cool-until we hit, high school and ransacked the house trying to hide the evidence of this fashion disaster, and none of us realize how truly annoying we are as college freshmen until we hit that senior year. My life lesson came to me in flashbacks throughout the balmy day as I graded the huge stack of papers that litter my table underneath rocks, saucers, and anything else that can serve as a paper weight in my windowless and thus wind-tunnelesque home.
I flashed back to high school when my lit teacher pleaded with us not to just make stuff up and write it down, as it was more work for her but less points for us. I also flashed to my Spanish teacher, who used to chide us for making up words that looked like they were Spanish and then use them on our tests. As I corrected over 240 essay tests this week, crossing out made up English words and writing lines through the same thing said 4 different ways, I can now totally sympathize with every teacher who ever had me as a student. I’m glad for one great difference though - a difference I believe would help the children of America in their education should they be privileged enough to partake, and that is the close relationship I have with all of my students.
Originally I thought students would not want to be anywhere near me after school, but here it is a sign of respect to always help the teachers, and as such I’m constantly surrounded by students, asking questions, borrowing books, carrying my water, or even taking naps on my porch with my cat. It’s not just the “mzungu” factor either; the other teachers are also constantly surrounded by students, always looking for ways to help around our homes, on the school grounds, or simply wanting to hang out. These relationships benefit everyone, I’ve learned more about Tanzanian culture as my students teach me to balance a water bucket on my head, build a nest for chicken eggs, and braid my hair so that it looks more African, and in return the students ask more questions in class, participate and pay attention (They all learned the hard way that once I learn their names I call on them all the time).
In Closing – to all teachers who ever had me in a class – who thought I wasn’t paying good enough attention, or who had to read an essay where I repeated the same thing over and over again – and then read everyone else’s tests of a similar nature: Thank-you. When I think of the fact that I’ve only been doing this for 3 months while some teachers carriers can exceed 30 years, it only deepens my respect for every teacher I’ve had the privilege to learn from.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Trail Blazing
Entry via Letter
Today was the first meeting of the newest NGO (and first) in Makong’onda village. At first, I was incredibly skeptical of helping this group, when they admitted to me one of their only aims was to have me help sell cashew nuts n America. After the introduction of members and my firm “no” response, we moved right into what we could do to help the Malaria problem in the community. We discussed ways to raise money to buy mosquito nets, ways to educate the community, ways to help people to educate and help their children; we even discussed how the peer educators themselves could help! I left the meeting with 10 new dedicated counterparts, ready to help in the community and help with any thing I should need in Makong’onda, the prospect of starting a new group is extremely exciting, but will prove to be a lot of work I’m sure – I hope to have great news and exiting updates for my next round of entries!
Today was the first meeting of the newest NGO (and first) in Makong’onda village. At first, I was incredibly skeptical of helping this group, when they admitted to me one of their only aims was to have me help sell cashew nuts n America. After the introduction of members and my firm “no” response, we moved right into what we could do to help the Malaria problem in the community. We discussed ways to raise money to buy mosquito nets, ways to educate the community, ways to help people to educate and help their children; we even discussed how the peer educators themselves could help! I left the meeting with 10 new dedicated counterparts, ready to help in the community and help with any thing I should need in Makong’onda, the prospect of starting a new group is extremely exciting, but will prove to be a lot of work I’m sure – I hope to have great news and exiting updates for my next round of entries!
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Beginnings of Endings
Entry via Letter
Today I finished writing my last annual exam which will be taken by my form 1 and 3 students in 1 week, after my form 2 students finish their annual national exams. These exams bring our first semester together to a close and send all of the students off on holiday to villages near and fair. It wasn’t until today, as students and I gossiped around the water pump-trying to help my “dumber by the day” cat our of a Koroshot tree while at the same time teaching me to balance a full bucket of water on my head – that I realized I would be truly bored over the next month without them.. Don’t get me wrong, my peer educators are all still coming to learn and prepare in December as we have progressed from learning about AIDs/HIV to STIs to learning to use condoms – of which several of my students felt necessary to imitate all aspects of what a model penis’s capable of before safely disposing of their condoms. Today’s session was most sucessful as each student had a dozen questions over the use of a condom and the specifics on where they could find them in the community. I can start to see the animated difference in some of them as they become excited at the prospect of teaching others, and increased confidence in my girls as we talk about subjects that are culturally taboo. I’m hoping to be able to teach them more, including a possible field trip to Newala to see where blood tests for AIDs are done in the hospital. Mungu Akipenda we will find the time and have the ability to continue making these sessions meaningful.
Today I finished writing my last annual exam which will be taken by my form 1 and 3 students in 1 week, after my form 2 students finish their annual national exams. These exams bring our first semester together to a close and send all of the students off on holiday to villages near and fair. It wasn’t until today, as students and I gossiped around the water pump-trying to help my “dumber by the day” cat our of a Koroshot tree while at the same time teaching me to balance a full bucket of water on my head – that I realized I would be truly bored over the next month without them.. Don’t get me wrong, my peer educators are all still coming to learn and prepare in December as we have progressed from learning about AIDs/HIV to STIs to learning to use condoms – of which several of my students felt necessary to imitate all aspects of what a model penis’s capable of before safely disposing of their condoms. Today’s session was most sucessful as each student had a dozen questions over the use of a condom and the specifics on where they could find them in the community. I can start to see the animated difference in some of them as they become excited at the prospect of teaching others, and increased confidence in my girls as we talk about subjects that are culturally taboo. I’m hoping to be able to teach them more, including a possible field trip to Newala to see where blood tests for AIDs are done in the hospital. Mungu Akipenda we will find the time and have the ability to continue making these sessions meaningful.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Life Learned in Africa
Entry via Letter
To thoroughly enjoy the African lifestyle, I have observed many “rules” that make life a bit easier, and now for your information have recorded them here. Enjoy:
Rule #1
When washing your hands after using the toilet, check the water you use before applying to hands. If there are visible worms making little homes in the bucket, the purpose of using this water for washing may be defeated. Dump bucket and start again with new pump water and less visible worms.
Rule # 2
Don’t waste decent day light hours trying to sift each bug out of the flour before you use it. Odds are the bugs won’t harm you – they even add a bit of protein to your bread, just dump it in and bake away. If we spend too much time nit-picking at the little things that cannot harm us, eventually we will find that well hidden giant coach roach, and then lose our appetites once and for all. Moral – don’t sweat the small stuff, or in this case bugs. On the other hand, if you start picking out the bugs to eat and throwing out the flour, you may have been in Africa too long…..
Rule # 3
When killing giant man-eating bugs, make sure to scrape corpse from floor and deposit outside of living area immediately. Large smashed bugs that remain on floor will in time be consumed by huge masses of smaller carnivorous bugs and then the problem of disposal of one turns into the eradication of an army. If you wish to make an example of the one large smashed bug so as to deter family members of the species from taking up residence in your home, do so on the front porch. This not only sets an example for the bugs, but also for villagers that don’t know you well enough huge bug corpses on the front porch will permanently deter those who don’t know you well from asking for money…or bug repellant.
Rule # 4
Always check for bugs before tucking the mosquito net into the mattress. After entering the bed and tucking down the net, frisking the blanket for bugs is a poor choice-should you find a bug it will no doubt go into a state of panic and frantically scurry away on which ever surface it deems possible for escape – this includes your equally panicked swing palms and lower limbs. This netted up bed of emotion will no doubt end in the insects flight to your hair, where despite shrieks and gyrations which flail your hair to and fro, you ultimately lose the culprit and spend the rest of your night worrying about bug eggs being strategically laid in your ear. To avoid these ear nests, best to pat the matt before you tuck the net.
Rule # 5
It is never a good idea to dare an African high school student to do something, and best also to keep sarcasm at bay. My form 3 students and I argued over the status of a chameleon, whether it was a mammal or a reptile. I argued that because it had no hair it must be a mammal, to which they unanimously disagreed and stated that chameleons had hair and that I was a silly white teacher who didn’t know. Exasperated, I ended the (by now very loud) argument by stating that if they could bring me a chameleon I could prove that it had no hair. One hour after I returned home from school a stampede of running feet and shouting echoed up the pathway to my door, where upon 15 students, a 10 foot tree branch, and a very confused chameleon sat waiting for my inspection. I ultimately did prove that I was right by telling the students there was no hair because they all believed me, rather than come closer to examine the reptile (they made it perfectly clear that I would be the only one dumb enough to approach that end of the 10 foot pole) they simply took my word for it. After several pictures and my blessing, the students dispersed, and the poor chameleon clung for dear life to the 10 foot branch, as it was returned to the forest by way of straining to touch each screaming, sprinting female student with in the small radius of my front porch.
Next time I’m going to argue that a crocodile has hair.
To thoroughly enjoy the African lifestyle, I have observed many “rules” that make life a bit easier, and now for your information have recorded them here. Enjoy:
Rule #1
When washing your hands after using the toilet, check the water you use before applying to hands. If there are visible worms making little homes in the bucket, the purpose of using this water for washing may be defeated. Dump bucket and start again with new pump water and less visible worms.
Rule # 2
Don’t waste decent day light hours trying to sift each bug out of the flour before you use it. Odds are the bugs won’t harm you – they even add a bit of protein to your bread, just dump it in and bake away. If we spend too much time nit-picking at the little things that cannot harm us, eventually we will find that well hidden giant coach roach, and then lose our appetites once and for all. Moral – don’t sweat the small stuff, or in this case bugs. On the other hand, if you start picking out the bugs to eat and throwing out the flour, you may have been in Africa too long…..
Rule # 3
When killing giant man-eating bugs, make sure to scrape corpse from floor and deposit outside of living area immediately. Large smashed bugs that remain on floor will in time be consumed by huge masses of smaller carnivorous bugs and then the problem of disposal of one turns into the eradication of an army. If you wish to make an example of the one large smashed bug so as to deter family members of the species from taking up residence in your home, do so on the front porch. This not only sets an example for the bugs, but also for villagers that don’t know you well enough huge bug corpses on the front porch will permanently deter those who don’t know you well from asking for money…or bug repellant.
Rule # 4
Always check for bugs before tucking the mosquito net into the mattress. After entering the bed and tucking down the net, frisking the blanket for bugs is a poor choice-should you find a bug it will no doubt go into a state of panic and frantically scurry away on which ever surface it deems possible for escape – this includes your equally panicked swing palms and lower limbs. This netted up bed of emotion will no doubt end in the insects flight to your hair, where despite shrieks and gyrations which flail your hair to and fro, you ultimately lose the culprit and spend the rest of your night worrying about bug eggs being strategically laid in your ear. To avoid these ear nests, best to pat the matt before you tuck the net.
Rule # 5
It is never a good idea to dare an African high school student to do something, and best also to keep sarcasm at bay. My form 3 students and I argued over the status of a chameleon, whether it was a mammal or a reptile. I argued that because it had no hair it must be a mammal, to which they unanimously disagreed and stated that chameleons had hair and that I was a silly white teacher who didn’t know. Exasperated, I ended the (by now very loud) argument by stating that if they could bring me a chameleon I could prove that it had no hair. One hour after I returned home from school a stampede of running feet and shouting echoed up the pathway to my door, where upon 15 students, a 10 foot tree branch, and a very confused chameleon sat waiting for my inspection. I ultimately did prove that I was right by telling the students there was no hair because they all believed me, rather than come closer to examine the reptile (they made it perfectly clear that I would be the only one dumb enough to approach that end of the 10 foot pole) they simply took my word for it. After several pictures and my blessing, the students dispersed, and the poor chameleon clung for dear life to the 10 foot branch, as it was returned to the forest by way of straining to touch each screaming, sprinting female student with in the small radius of my front porch.
Next time I’m going to argue that a crocodile has hair.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
It's that Look
Entry via Letter
Being a volunteer can be difficult at times, especially when acting as a teacher in a small “bush” school. Do the kids really listen to me as I fill their head with Biology facts, can they be expected to when none of the other teachers teach in the classrooms, and only come around on discipline days? I’ve pandered many a day (especially on boring plant biology days) why I sit here writing these notes when only one or two of the students will truly understand me. Then I get “the look”. “The look” comes in many forms and in many places, not just in the school but around the village as well. “The look” is what keeps me going on days when I wonder what the hell I’m doing here in the middle of a heat wave without air conditioning. What is this look? I’m glad you asked. “The look” is the wave of understanding that comes over a students face when he grasps the concept of photosynthesis. “The look” is also the appreciation and ear to ear grin that my neighbor gives me every time I make Chocolate cake, even when I add too much oil and we change the name to chocolate soup. “The look” is the pride and beaming glow of a student who can point out a mistake in my calculations and then show the class, in English, where I went wrong. “The look” is the high-pitched shrieks of laughter and red faced convulsions of villagers when they meet me walking around the village with my kitten Peps wrapped in a Kanga and tied to my back like an African baby. “The looks” are the stern serious faces of villagers as the stare into my camera, and the coos of approval and piles of laughter when they look at the resulting picture. “The look” is the wide puppy-dog eyes of a neighborhood girl who hasn’t yet eaten all day, but manages to sneak me a handful of cashews carried in the folds of her small shirt.
“The Look” can come from any place at anytime, and though I never expect where I will find it, I’m always thankful that I am here in Tanzania to inspire it.
Being a volunteer can be difficult at times, especially when acting as a teacher in a small “bush” school. Do the kids really listen to me as I fill their head with Biology facts, can they be expected to when none of the other teachers teach in the classrooms, and only come around on discipline days? I’ve pandered many a day (especially on boring plant biology days) why I sit here writing these notes when only one or two of the students will truly understand me. Then I get “the look”. “The look” comes in many forms and in many places, not just in the school but around the village as well. “The look” is what keeps me going on days when I wonder what the hell I’m doing here in the middle of a heat wave without air conditioning. What is this look? I’m glad you asked. “The look” is the wave of understanding that comes over a students face when he grasps the concept of photosynthesis. “The look” is also the appreciation and ear to ear grin that my neighbor gives me every time I make Chocolate cake, even when I add too much oil and we change the name to chocolate soup. “The look” is the pride and beaming glow of a student who can point out a mistake in my calculations and then show the class, in English, where I went wrong. “The look” is the high-pitched shrieks of laughter and red faced convulsions of villagers when they meet me walking around the village with my kitten Peps wrapped in a Kanga and tied to my back like an African baby. “The looks” are the stern serious faces of villagers as the stare into my camera, and the coos of approval and piles of laughter when they look at the resulting picture. “The look” is the wide puppy-dog eyes of a neighborhood girl who hasn’t yet eaten all day, but manages to sneak me a handful of cashews carried in the folds of her small shirt.
“The Look” can come from any place at anytime, and though I never expect where I will find it, I’m always thankful that I am here in Tanzania to inspire it.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Animal Planet
Entry via Letter
The fun thing about being a biology teacher in a rural school is the fact that everyone knows where you live. All of the students can cluster around your home and yell for you to wake up in the wee hours of the morning (until you chase them away with a stick) and still others can come bearing gifts, some with and some without biological significance. This week, 4 primary school students showed up at my door with a huge turtle. Originally I snapped a few shots thanked the boys and then closed the door to resume cooking my supper. Not even 2 minutes later the knock came again, a little more timid this time and there stood the boys, this time flanked with 2 mothers, both of whom were balancing buckets full of water on their heads while also bending to examine the turtle, who had not moved from my doorstep. One of the mothers smiled and patiently explained that the Turtle was a gift, and that I should take him inside before someone else takes him. I smiled again at the boys and the mother, saying there is nothing I would like more than to keep this Turtle in my home, and then, Turtle in tow, again shut my door. Now, Kobe (Kiswahili name for Turtle) wanders up and down the hallways of my home, watching out for both the cat and the chicken, which pounce on him with endless curiosity. When biology students fill my home to ask questions, they now have to dodge both the ankle-attaching cat and the exploring Turtle, all the while nervously keeping out of reach from both, and shaking their heads a the crazy mzungu who has welcomed forest creatures in to her home.
The fun thing about being a biology teacher in a rural school is the fact that everyone knows where you live. All of the students can cluster around your home and yell for you to wake up in the wee hours of the morning (until you chase them away with a stick) and still others can come bearing gifts, some with and some without biological significance. This week, 4 primary school students showed up at my door with a huge turtle. Originally I snapped a few shots thanked the boys and then closed the door to resume cooking my supper. Not even 2 minutes later the knock came again, a little more timid this time and there stood the boys, this time flanked with 2 mothers, both of whom were balancing buckets full of water on their heads while also bending to examine the turtle, who had not moved from my doorstep. One of the mothers smiled and patiently explained that the Turtle was a gift, and that I should take him inside before someone else takes him. I smiled again at the boys and the mother, saying there is nothing I would like more than to keep this Turtle in my home, and then, Turtle in tow, again shut my door. Now, Kobe (Kiswahili name for Turtle) wanders up and down the hallways of my home, watching out for both the cat and the chicken, which pounce on him with endless curiosity. When biology students fill my home to ask questions, they now have to dodge both the ankle-attaching cat and the exploring Turtle, all the while nervously keeping out of reach from both, and shaking their heads a the crazy mzungu who has welcomed forest creatures in to her home.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
The Heat of the Moment
Entry via Letter
My students and I decided to prepare garden the day after a huge rain-storm hit Makong’onda. While trapped in my house with 12 students waiting out the storm, they all noticed a peculiar smell, and asked if the beans I had cooked for supper had gone bad. With a knowing smile I ushered them out the door after the storm and then decided something must be done about that smell. That smell was my hair. In my own defense, it’s incredibly hard to keep long hair clean in a culture where all people shave their heads; there is little shampoo and no hot running water. It’s also so hot here, that the long dripping mane of hair after a bath is utterly unappealing, and with the result of constant ponytails and braids- which breed unhealthy hair. Thus, in the morning before starting the garden, armed with a 7” round in diameter mirror and a pair of sewing scissors, I chopped my own hair 7 inches shorter, so that it rests right below my chin. Most of the Tanzanians noticed right away, and were horrified I had let myself chop that miraculous amount of hair. Others told me that I now completly looked like an American boy, what with my preference for pants and all. Still others appreciated the style, and now many students come to the house begging me to let them braid my hair. Its funny how little I care about this fashion faux-paw, I’m actually more excited about the prospect of getting my uneven hair braided than the reality of having to own-up to a pixie cut the moment I step off of a plane in America. Is she becoming assimilated into another culture? You be the judge.
My students and I decided to prepare garden the day after a huge rain-storm hit Makong’onda. While trapped in my house with 12 students waiting out the storm, they all noticed a peculiar smell, and asked if the beans I had cooked for supper had gone bad. With a knowing smile I ushered them out the door after the storm and then decided something must be done about that smell. That smell was my hair. In my own defense, it’s incredibly hard to keep long hair clean in a culture where all people shave their heads; there is little shampoo and no hot running water. It’s also so hot here, that the long dripping mane of hair after a bath is utterly unappealing, and with the result of constant ponytails and braids- which breed unhealthy hair. Thus, in the morning before starting the garden, armed with a 7” round in diameter mirror and a pair of sewing scissors, I chopped my own hair 7 inches shorter, so that it rests right below my chin. Most of the Tanzanians noticed right away, and were horrified I had let myself chop that miraculous amount of hair. Others told me that I now completly looked like an American boy, what with my preference for pants and all. Still others appreciated the style, and now many students come to the house begging me to let them braid my hair. Its funny how little I care about this fashion faux-paw, I’m actually more excited about the prospect of getting my uneven hair braided than the reality of having to own-up to a pixie cut the moment I step off of a plane in America. Is she becoming assimilated into another culture? You be the judge.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Rain, Rain
Entry Via Letter
While sitting in my friend Gigi’s house in Newala, I noticed she had large wooden shutters covering her windows, she told me that I too would need shutters, or the rain would surely wash me and my things away. I shrugged it off and told her I need not purchase shutters, we would see when the rain came. It wasn’t until after I was sweeping a small lake out of my home that I realized she might be right.
The rain came down in torrents, but forgot to tell the wind to back down, and the result was my flooded home. The rain brought not only a new source of entertainment for the cat, but also students, who had been waiting at the water pump to take water and were now ironically fleeing from the torrents in the sky. My house filled to the brim with students, we waited out the storm and I distributed copies of Si Mchezo magazine, which they quietly read while eating the candy I piled on the table. Soon the reading turned into a discussion about the difference between Americans and Tanzanians, why condoms work, and where in the village I can get my nose pierced (a common practice here). As the students left, I felt very lucky that the rain came and trapped them here, as I felt it helped me make a good connection for the first times as an advisor they can trust. Sure enough the next day students poured through my door to get copies of Si Mchezo (this is an HIV-AIDS magazine for teens), and I met more students than ever. This response excited me to start the peer educators group, a group of students who will teach and advise students on health issues, and also work with primary schools in the surrounding area. Their applications are in and I am just now finishing their oral interviews, soon I will have a large group of 14 students who will work to teach and educate their peers about HIV-AIDS, I am very excited for them to come and hang out more often, as most important discussions occur in the low pressure environment of the home, as opposed to the always uncomfortable environment of the classroom.
While sitting in my friend Gigi’s house in Newala, I noticed she had large wooden shutters covering her windows, she told me that I too would need shutters, or the rain would surely wash me and my things away. I shrugged it off and told her I need not purchase shutters, we would see when the rain came. It wasn’t until after I was sweeping a small lake out of my home that I realized she might be right.
The rain came down in torrents, but forgot to tell the wind to back down, and the result was my flooded home. The rain brought not only a new source of entertainment for the cat, but also students, who had been waiting at the water pump to take water and were now ironically fleeing from the torrents in the sky. My house filled to the brim with students, we waited out the storm and I distributed copies of Si Mchezo magazine, which they quietly read while eating the candy I piled on the table. Soon the reading turned into a discussion about the difference between Americans and Tanzanians, why condoms work, and where in the village I can get my nose pierced (a common practice here). As the students left, I felt very lucky that the rain came and trapped them here, as I felt it helped me make a good connection for the first times as an advisor they can trust. Sure enough the next day students poured through my door to get copies of Si Mchezo (this is an HIV-AIDS magazine for teens), and I met more students than ever. This response excited me to start the peer educators group, a group of students who will teach and advise students on health issues, and also work with primary schools in the surrounding area. Their applications are in and I am just now finishing their oral interviews, soon I will have a large group of 14 students who will work to teach and educate their peers about HIV-AIDS, I am very excited for them to come and hang out more often, as most important discussions occur in the low pressure environment of the home, as opposed to the always uncomfortable environment of the classroom.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Rats, Bats and Cats
Entry Via Letter
I’ve decided today that I have officially crossed the line from an American to a Tanzanian in a sense that I am now able to fight the wildlife with a passion that would make the people of Fema incredibly distressed. I originally purchased Pepsi the cat because I felt he would scare the mice away. After the first two weeks of yowling and hissing at everything that moved, I felt the rats would have packed their bags and moved on. This was an incorrect assumption, as I found one morning when I arose sleepy eyed and hair tussled to wash my face in the bucket and found a small rat, swimming frantically to keep his head above the water. The logical thing to do would have been to put more water in the bucket to drown the obviously exhausted creature, but what I actually did was run out of my house (now fully awake) in boxers (in a country where women barely show their ankles!) yelling at everyone I saw to come see the huge beast I had trapped in the bucket. After a small crowd of men armed to the teeth arrived at the back door, they came upon the bucket, then between slapping each other on the backs and falling over laughing they managed to pull the bucket outside where Mama Kihiki dumped the bucket of water and greeted the swimming creature with a large rock, which finally killed it. Mama Kihiki proved to be the hero – probably because at this point all of the males were laughing so hard they were convulsing, she even had the sense to bring me a kanga to cover my incredibly white legs which – caused more of a ruckus than the rat. Since this story wouldn’t die around my village, I decided I would have to work drastically to make up for my “rep”, and I found the opportunity two days later while building my garden with my students. The building of the garden led to HUGE arguments, as they all insisted I would never be able to finish if I kept digging so deep, alas we continued, mostly because I bought chai for everyone, until Mama Kihiki suddenly jumped from her seat shouting “nyoka, nyoka” (snake), immediately impassioned, I rushed from the garden with the large hoe I had been furiously swinging at the dirt and decided I would be the one to kill the snake, this lust for reptile blood was not only fueled by my need to up my “street cred” but was also fanned with remembrance of the cobra that snuck into my chicken coop and stole my eggs (the first two my kuku has laid). After swinging the hoe at (but not killing) the snake the first three times I shouted for my students to bring me a machete so that I could cut off the head of the snake – one managed to pick himself off the ground (where he like all the others was quivering with laughter) and brought me my weapon of choice; which I used to finish off the snake. As I held the snake to take its picture (where like the snake, my head was cut off) I realized now that I was a toughened Tanzanian woman, ready to kill all the scorpions, lizards, and snakes (as well as rats) that dare to enter my domain.
I’ve decided today that I have officially crossed the line from an American to a Tanzanian in a sense that I am now able to fight the wildlife with a passion that would make the people of Fema incredibly distressed. I originally purchased Pepsi the cat because I felt he would scare the mice away. After the first two weeks of yowling and hissing at everything that moved, I felt the rats would have packed their bags and moved on. This was an incorrect assumption, as I found one morning when I arose sleepy eyed and hair tussled to wash my face in the bucket and found a small rat, swimming frantically to keep his head above the water. The logical thing to do would have been to put more water in the bucket to drown the obviously exhausted creature, but what I actually did was run out of my house (now fully awake) in boxers (in a country where women barely show their ankles!) yelling at everyone I saw to come see the huge beast I had trapped in the bucket. After a small crowd of men armed to the teeth arrived at the back door, they came upon the bucket, then between slapping each other on the backs and falling over laughing they managed to pull the bucket outside where Mama Kihiki dumped the bucket of water and greeted the swimming creature with a large rock, which finally killed it. Mama Kihiki proved to be the hero – probably because at this point all of the males were laughing so hard they were convulsing, she even had the sense to bring me a kanga to cover my incredibly white legs which – caused more of a ruckus than the rat. Since this story wouldn’t die around my village, I decided I would have to work drastically to make up for my “rep”, and I found the opportunity two days later while building my garden with my students. The building of the garden led to HUGE arguments, as they all insisted I would never be able to finish if I kept digging so deep, alas we continued, mostly because I bought chai for everyone, until Mama Kihiki suddenly jumped from her seat shouting “nyoka, nyoka” (snake), immediately impassioned, I rushed from the garden with the large hoe I had been furiously swinging at the dirt and decided I would be the one to kill the snake, this lust for reptile blood was not only fueled by my need to up my “street cred” but was also fanned with remembrance of the cobra that snuck into my chicken coop and stole my eggs (the first two my kuku has laid). After swinging the hoe at (but not killing) the snake the first three times I shouted for my students to bring me a machete so that I could cut off the head of the snake – one managed to pick himself off the ground (where he like all the others was quivering with laughter) and brought me my weapon of choice; which I used to finish off the snake. As I held the snake to take its picture (where like the snake, my head was cut off) I realized now that I was a toughened Tanzanian woman, ready to kill all the scorpions, lizards, and snakes (as well as rats) that dare to enter my domain.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Animal Life
Entry via Letter
I thought it would be wise to dedicate an entire blog to the flaura and fana here in Tanzania. Starting from the ground up – we’ll start with the insects I hate and progress to the goats that won’t leave me alone. At first I hated the abundance of lizards here in Tanzania. They are everywhere, peeking out from the choo, hitching an un-anticipated ride on my purse, scaling the walls of my bafo waiting to pounce when my eyes are filled with soap, unbearable scaly little beasts. This line of thought discontined when I witnessed an apifiny late last night. As I walked outside in a bent “due to too many teas” position, I noticed 2 large brown shadows running across my floor. At first I thought the perpetrators were crawdads, and wondered how that pet crawdad escaped in the 6th grade managed to sneak its way to Tanzania. It was with a sudden realization (and the larger creature’s sudden attraction to my bare foot) that I jumped to my kitchen stool realizing this was one of the biggest toe-munching scorpions I had ever seen. The hop to the chair was not an act of sheer terror, but rather a reflex when another creature darts across my other bare foot (moral wear shoes when out at night) and battled the scorpion, successfully away in its jaws. This savior-creature was a lizard which (and I only exuberate a little) was the size of my calf…..HUGE!
Moving on to my new pet Pepsi, a scrawny kitten whom was aptly named by the neighbors as my own name is a Pepsi beverage here, the kitten whose only purpose here is to detract the loud rates who seem convinced my roof and food pantry are a nice place to live. Pepsi has gone from being an ungrateful hissing nuisance to an overbearing, over attached, constantly purring machine seeking constant attention and food, *sigh* men. Luckily he seems to have tricked the rats into leaving, a small miracle since the rats here could have most likely consumed him, being twice his size and all.
This past week has been full of new introductions and work, school and village life has been an active hubbub of excitement, My form 2 students took mock English exams (as well as exams in every other subject) which I had the opportunity to grade…actually it was a good opportunity as I had to first correct the answer key and then grand m exams. I find now that my Englist teaching of Biology may not be working because of the lack of English knowledge among my Students, and I’m resolve to start teaching in both English and Kiswahili for full comprehension of my Biology subject. For those who can comprehend the subject – my form 3 students – started an interesting lesson in the importance of the endocrine system, and the importance of taking notes in Mwalimu Mirinda’s class. After a note check, ¼ of the students re-wrote the notes, ¼ were allowed to have their free period (they listened) and ½ came to my house to collect leaves for the compost pile. I hate to discipline my Students, but find that I do enjoy my 3 new fences, compost pile, and sparkling office, I actually don’t know what I’ll do if they start to behave!
The village is now quite alert to my presence as I saunter here and there, greeting everyone and eating bucket loads of Peanuts and Cashews thrust in front of me. Three of the village bibi’s taught me how to crochet this week- which is hard to learn, but a bit more of a challenge if you don’t quite know the language, and the general belief seems to be yelling louder will enhance my learning process. However my hard labor has paid off, and I now strut my stuff, crocheting a hat that would fit comfortably on a thimble, and demonstrating my skill to everyone I greet, all of whom seem or pretend very well, to be impressed. The town meeting was yet another harrowing experience, and has solidified in me that I need never worry about running on Gormley-Trout time (at least 30 minutes later than normal time) ever again. A typical Tanzanian meeting starts 2 hours after it is supposed to, and then lasts up to 3 extra hours depending on subject matter. At this meeting I was called to greet the group and then the headmaster gave a report of my progress teaching, feeling that an embellishment of an event which occurred earlier in the week- me running from a chicken – was necessary for the village to comprehend as it related to my teaching in no way at all. I wasn’t afraid of said chicken, I merely stated it was angry which I can confirm; it angrily squawked and pecked at my ankles as I trotted the opposite direction at a brisk pace. Moral – don’t attempt to kick chickens and if kicking necessary, do so in privacy of ones own home.
These are the weekly antics in Makong’onda. My health and peer educating groups will begin next week, so I hope to update you on their progress in the coming blogs! I hope you are all having a safe and scary October, lots of Love from Tanzania.
Mirinda
I thought it would be wise to dedicate an entire blog to the flaura and fana here in Tanzania. Starting from the ground up – we’ll start with the insects I hate and progress to the goats that won’t leave me alone. At first I hated the abundance of lizards here in Tanzania. They are everywhere, peeking out from the choo, hitching an un-anticipated ride on my purse, scaling the walls of my bafo waiting to pounce when my eyes are filled with soap, unbearable scaly little beasts. This line of thought discontined when I witnessed an apifiny late last night. As I walked outside in a bent “due to too many teas” position, I noticed 2 large brown shadows running across my floor. At first I thought the perpetrators were crawdads, and wondered how that pet crawdad escaped in the 6th grade managed to sneak its way to Tanzania. It was with a sudden realization (and the larger creature’s sudden attraction to my bare foot) that I jumped to my kitchen stool realizing this was one of the biggest toe-munching scorpions I had ever seen. The hop to the chair was not an act of sheer terror, but rather a reflex when another creature darts across my other bare foot (moral wear shoes when out at night) and battled the scorpion, successfully away in its jaws. This savior-creature was a lizard which (and I only exuberate a little) was the size of my calf…..HUGE!
Moving on to my new pet Pepsi, a scrawny kitten whom was aptly named by the neighbors as my own name is a Pepsi beverage here, the kitten whose only purpose here is to detract the loud rates who seem convinced my roof and food pantry are a nice place to live. Pepsi has gone from being an ungrateful hissing nuisance to an overbearing, over attached, constantly purring machine seeking constant attention and food, *sigh* men. Luckily he seems to have tricked the rats into leaving, a small miracle since the rats here could have most likely consumed him, being twice his size and all.
This past week has been full of new introductions and work, school and village life has been an active hubbub of excitement, My form 2 students took mock English exams (as well as exams in every other subject) which I had the opportunity to grade…actually it was a good opportunity as I had to first correct the answer key and then grand m exams. I find now that my Englist teaching of Biology may not be working because of the lack of English knowledge among my Students, and I’m resolve to start teaching in both English and Kiswahili for full comprehension of my Biology subject. For those who can comprehend the subject – my form 3 students – started an interesting lesson in the importance of the endocrine system, and the importance of taking notes in Mwalimu Mirinda’s class. After a note check, ¼ of the students re-wrote the notes, ¼ were allowed to have their free period (they listened) and ½ came to my house to collect leaves for the compost pile. I hate to discipline my Students, but find that I do enjoy my 3 new fences, compost pile, and sparkling office, I actually don’t know what I’ll do if they start to behave!
The village is now quite alert to my presence as I saunter here and there, greeting everyone and eating bucket loads of Peanuts and Cashews thrust in front of me. Three of the village bibi’s taught me how to crochet this week- which is hard to learn, but a bit more of a challenge if you don’t quite know the language, and the general belief seems to be yelling louder will enhance my learning process. However my hard labor has paid off, and I now strut my stuff, crocheting a hat that would fit comfortably on a thimble, and demonstrating my skill to everyone I greet, all of whom seem or pretend very well, to be impressed. The town meeting was yet another harrowing experience, and has solidified in me that I need never worry about running on Gormley-Trout time (at least 30 minutes later than normal time) ever again. A typical Tanzanian meeting starts 2 hours after it is supposed to, and then lasts up to 3 extra hours depending on subject matter. At this meeting I was called to greet the group and then the headmaster gave a report of my progress teaching, feeling that an embellishment of an event which occurred earlier in the week- me running from a chicken – was necessary for the village to comprehend as it related to my teaching in no way at all. I wasn’t afraid of said chicken, I merely stated it was angry which I can confirm; it angrily squawked and pecked at my ankles as I trotted the opposite direction at a brisk pace. Moral – don’t attempt to kick chickens and if kicking necessary, do so in privacy of ones own home.
These are the weekly antics in Makong’onda. My health and peer educating groups will begin next week, so I hope to update you on their progress in the coming blogs! I hope you are all having a safe and scary October, lots of Love from Tanzania.
Mirinda
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Zawadi Land
Entry via Letter
If you walk around America in a new neighborhood, it would be unusual for your new neighbors to ask you to sit, have some water and 4 eggs. They are gifts for visiting. I believe it would be more unusual to have an angry clawing chicken shoved inches from your eyes but then this is Tanzania, and angry eye-socket clinging unhappy chicken gifts are how we roll.
The generosity of my village is wonderful and I continuously appreciate their helping me adjust to life here – this is how I’ve come to appreciate Kuku, my new Chicken friend who is locked in my shower because he keeps trying to kill me (you laugh – but that beak is sharp). I guess his dislike for me makes sense – If I was living with someone whom I suspected wanted to eat me, I to would dislike that person. I believe Kuku will remain in the shower until my neighbor helps him in to a stewpot, where upon he will briefly live on my kitchen table before progressing in to my belly.
This week there is no school, and as a result I have not had to teach, so I have been helping my neighbors collect Cashew nuts and traveled village to village to greet all those who want to meet me. Between village visits, I have also provided my village with “mzuhgu theatre” where upon in the dark they all gather around my home to hear me scream and then chase with a machete the angry pregnant rate that will not leave my home. Luckily despite their amusement, two families offered me a kitten, so soon I will be without angry pregnant rats and hopefully man-eating spiders. I am not one to be afraid of spiders, but this particular spider was so large and so evil-translucent white that I decided it was a sign from God urging me not to use the bathroom – and thus I made due with a bucket instead.
Another sign from God came in the form of an evil black and gold jersey hanging in the near-by market village of Newala. Yes friends, it was a Hawkeyes football Jersey which appeared 1 week before the Iowa-Iowa State game. I felt necessary to purchase this Jersey for the sole purpose of taking it to the local Witch Doctor and having it cursed, and hope that my magic works – for by the time you read this blog, the game will be long over – hopefully my African-Hawkeye thwarting techniques will be sucessful.
My school and wonderful village of Makong’onda remain a wonderful place to live and prosper. I’m hoping to learn more about Grant-writing so that I can start projects and get underway – my villagers are itching to get started.
Lots of hugs and well wishes from Tanzania! I hope to receive letters and news soon!
If you walk around America in a new neighborhood, it would be unusual for your new neighbors to ask you to sit, have some water and 4 eggs. They are gifts for visiting. I believe it would be more unusual to have an angry clawing chicken shoved inches from your eyes but then this is Tanzania, and angry eye-socket clinging unhappy chicken gifts are how we roll.
The generosity of my village is wonderful and I continuously appreciate their helping me adjust to life here – this is how I’ve come to appreciate Kuku, my new Chicken friend who is locked in my shower because he keeps trying to kill me (you laugh – but that beak is sharp). I guess his dislike for me makes sense – If I was living with someone whom I suspected wanted to eat me, I to would dislike that person. I believe Kuku will remain in the shower until my neighbor helps him in to a stewpot, where upon he will briefly live on my kitchen table before progressing in to my belly.
This week there is no school, and as a result I have not had to teach, so I have been helping my neighbors collect Cashew nuts and traveled village to village to greet all those who want to meet me. Between village visits, I have also provided my village with “mzuhgu theatre” where upon in the dark they all gather around my home to hear me scream and then chase with a machete the angry pregnant rate that will not leave my home. Luckily despite their amusement, two families offered me a kitten, so soon I will be without angry pregnant rats and hopefully man-eating spiders. I am not one to be afraid of spiders, but this particular spider was so large and so evil-translucent white that I decided it was a sign from God urging me not to use the bathroom – and thus I made due with a bucket instead.
Another sign from God came in the form of an evil black and gold jersey hanging in the near-by market village of Newala. Yes friends, it was a Hawkeyes football Jersey which appeared 1 week before the Iowa-Iowa State game. I felt necessary to purchase this Jersey for the sole purpose of taking it to the local Witch Doctor and having it cursed, and hope that my magic works – for by the time you read this blog, the game will be long over – hopefully my African-Hawkeye thwarting techniques will be sucessful. My school and wonderful village of Makong’onda remain a wonderful place to live and prosper. I’m hoping to learn more about Grant-writing so that I can start projects and get underway – my villagers are itching to get started.
Lots of hugs and well wishes from Tanzania! I hope to receive letters and news soon!
Friday, September 5, 2008
The First Days at Makong'onda
Entry via Letter
I have finally moved in to my new village of Makong’onda, and am thrilled to finally be in a place that I can call home for the next two years. I don’t know which factor
Upon first glance, Makong’onda appears to be a very small village, many of the homes are made from brick and clay with thatch roofs and sand covers the ground everywhere the eye can see. There is no electricity; thought a near-by home does have solar capability. This means that everything here is very expensive to charge-my cell phone alone costs over 400 Schilling to fully charge at a near-by duka. Like electricity, food is also scarce here – because we are
now winding down the days to the rainy season. We have little water and no fruits or vegetables growing here – these items have to be purchased in Newala, the nearest town, which can only be reached by foot and is a two hour climb up a small mountain to reach. The village also has four outlying villages which are each in distance about 2 miles from Makong’onda. In each direction. All of these villages are practically unreachable by car, and the best (and only) way to leave is via car / bus from Newala. The land here is incredibly sandy with the exception of the cashew trees which 
grow everywhere – the fruit of the cashews, called Bebo, is commonly used here to make Pombe (think cashew moonshine) and I have been forbidden to try it due to my fondness for bowel regularity and my eye-sight.
The house that I am now residing in is beautiful by African standards and I am thrilled to be so lucky in having it! It has 3 bedrooms, a large front sitting room, and a large courtyard with an office, kitchen, and hen house. Peace Corps volunteers are
forbidden to keep chickens, so my hen house remains chicken free – until dusk. Then all of the chickens who used to sleep in my hen house return and try to crash my party. I am sure the PC administer a reprimand to these rebel chickens promptly, but until then I will continue to eject them from my home with whatever means necessary (the word “shoo” makes up the bulk of my artillery). Because I am a new volunteer, I am having the bulk of my furniture created here, this includes a drying rack, shelves (for dishes), bookcase, and wardrobe for the few clothes I have now 
and the many clothes I plan to make later. The water pump is very close to my home, which I am thankful for, I do not want to chote heavy water very far in this hot climate!
The people of Makong’onda have been supremely helpful in making me feel at home. When I arrived my home was filled with people, singing and welcoming me home. My home continues to this day to be filled with people, as many teachers and students are in and out of my home everyday, looking at the random things
I have on my table and then asking if they can have them. (If I did give up something every time I was asked, I would be out a computer, camera, 2 flashlights, and shoes). There was a village meeting where the majority of the village was told not to ask me for money (I was approached 5 minutes after the meeting and asked for money). I think it helped a little.
The work I intend to start here begins this weekend, when I will help with the village measles vaccinations. I will also begin
teaching biology; soon in to the next semester I have been asked to teach chemistry and physics as well. These subjects are currently not taught here so the students simply do not learn them with the result that they are not able to pass the national exam and continue on with school. I’m hoping to be able to improve these scores, but have been warned by several teachers that the students dislike science (and school in general) so I may have my work cut out for me!
I continue to think about all of you back home often (though admittedly not as often as food….. drool) and I hope to hear from many of you soon! My new address is below – I would love to receive letters and news from all of you!
Keep my village and I in your prayers, and I will report again soon!
Mirinda
Mirinda Gormley
Peace Corps Volunteer
PO Box 440
Newala
Tanzania
I have finally moved in to my new village of Makong’onda, and am thrilled to finally be in a place that I can call home for the next two years. I don’t know which factor
Upon first glance, Makong’onda appears to be a very small village, many of the homes are made from brick and clay with thatch roofs and sand covers the ground everywhere the eye can see. There is no electricity; thought a near-by home does have solar capability. This means that everything here is very expensive to charge-my cell phone alone costs over 400 Schilling to fully charge at a near-by duka. Like electricity, food is also scarce here – because we are
now winding down the days to the rainy season. We have little water and no fruits or vegetables growing here – these items have to be purchased in Newala, the nearest town, which can only be reached by foot and is a two hour climb up a small mountain to reach. The village also has four outlying villages which are each in distance about 2 miles from Makong’onda. In each direction. All of these villages are practically unreachable by car, and the best (and only) way to leave is via car / bus from Newala. The land here is incredibly sandy with the exception of the cashew trees which 
grow everywhere – the fruit of the cashews, called Bebo, is commonly used here to make Pombe (think cashew moonshine) and I have been forbidden to try it due to my fondness for bowel regularity and my eye-sight.The house that I am now residing in is beautiful by African standards and I am thrilled to be so lucky in having it! It has 3 bedrooms, a large front sitting room, and a large courtyard with an office, kitchen, and hen house. Peace Corps volunteers are
forbidden to keep chickens, so my hen house remains chicken free – until dusk. Then all of the chickens who used to sleep in my hen house return and try to crash my party. I am sure the PC administer a reprimand to these rebel chickens promptly, but until then I will continue to eject them from my home with whatever means necessary (the word “shoo” makes up the bulk of my artillery). Because I am a new volunteer, I am having the bulk of my furniture created here, this includes a drying rack, shelves (for dishes), bookcase, and wardrobe for the few clothes I have now 
and the many clothes I plan to make later. The water pump is very close to my home, which I am thankful for, I do not want to chote heavy water very far in this hot climate! The people of Makong’onda have been supremely helpful in making me feel at home. When I arrived my home was filled with people, singing and welcoming me home. My home continues to this day to be filled with people, as many teachers and students are in and out of my home everyday, looking at the random things
I have on my table and then asking if they can have them. (If I did give up something every time I was asked, I would be out a computer, camera, 2 flashlights, and shoes). There was a village meeting where the majority of the village was told not to ask me for money (I was approached 5 minutes after the meeting and asked for money). I think it helped a little.The work I intend to start here begins this weekend, when I will help with the village measles vaccinations. I will also begin
teaching biology; soon in to the next semester I have been asked to teach chemistry and physics as well. These subjects are currently not taught here so the students simply do not learn them with the result that they are not able to pass the national exam and continue on with school. I’m hoping to be able to improve these scores, but have been warned by several teachers that the students dislike science (and school in general) so I may have my work cut out for me!
I continue to think about all of you back home often (though admittedly not as often as food….. drool) and I hope to hear from many of you soon! My new address is below – I would love to receive letters and news from all of you!
Keep my village and I in your prayers, and I will report again soon!
Mirinda
Mirinda Gormley
Peace Corps Volunteer
PO Box 440
Newala
Tanzania
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
The Big Day!
Today we found out what sites we will be living in for the next two years while doing our service in Tanzania! It was a very excited buildup, with the people shouting "come on down so and so to this village!"...though towards the end the people who had not yet gotten their sites were a little more than stressed out, we were just plain giddy to know where we were going!
I found out that I will be going to the Deep South (the DEEEEEEP South) and that I have a very large, new house (with no electricity) right next to the school where I will be teaching Biology. I am one of the only volunteers (if not the only one) in the Health Group that got placed in an education site, mostly because I expressed that I would be able to teach, and this was what the community was really searching for. I will also be the first volunteer that this community has ever had, which will probably make for some pretty good pampering! I'm glad to be a teacher, because I will have a schedule and a lot of intergration into the community right away, and I'll get to know a lot of the teachers and community members!
I will not have an address for any of you until I am able to actually move in and see my banking town (which will probably be about 2 weeks), but promise that once I have it I will be posting it here for all to see - I would still love to get mail from everyone! :)
We have been spending the past several days before finding out our sites in Dar es Salaam - which is sort of like the capital of Tanzaia - EVRYTHING is here. My mission once we arrived (from our very small villages) was to see a movie and eat ice cream. There was something very surreal about sitting in an Air-conditioned theatre drinking a slushie (after eating Ice Cream) and watching Batman (which I highly recommend) in AFRICA! It was crazy, but I was very glad to get to go after such a long time in my small village!
We move from our villages in 2 weeks, and because of the distance from everyone in the Deep South, we will probably be the last to move. The Deep South appears to be the farthest from all of the other volunteers - but is VERY close to the beach, I can't wait to get rid of my already awful farmers tan!
If I haven't written you an e-mail - please realize that my time on computers for the past 10 weeks is very limited, I will be writing all of you very soon when I have a little more free time at my site - I really do miss everyone!
Peace
I found out that I will be going to the Deep South (the DEEEEEEP South) and that I have a very large, new house (with no electricity) right next to the school where I will be teaching Biology. I am one of the only volunteers (if not the only one) in the Health Group that got placed in an education site, mostly because I expressed that I would be able to teach, and this was what the community was really searching for. I will also be the first volunteer that this community has ever had, which will probably make for some pretty good pampering! I'm glad to be a teacher, because I will have a schedule and a lot of intergration into the community right away, and I'll get to know a lot of the teachers and community members!
I will not have an address for any of you until I am able to actually move in and see my banking town (which will probably be about 2 weeks), but promise that once I have it I will be posting it here for all to see - I would still love to get mail from everyone! :)
We have been spending the past several days before finding out our sites in Dar es Salaam - which is sort of like the capital of Tanzaia - EVRYTHING is here. My mission once we arrived (from our very small villages) was to see a movie and eat ice cream. There was something very surreal about sitting in an Air-conditioned theatre drinking a slushie (after eating Ice Cream) and watching Batman (which I highly recommend) in AFRICA! It was crazy, but I was very glad to get to go after such a long time in my small village!
We move from our villages in 2 weeks, and because of the distance from everyone in the Deep South, we will probably be the last to move. The Deep South appears to be the farthest from all of the other volunteers - but is VERY close to the beach, I can't wait to get rid of my already awful farmers tan!
If I haven't written you an e-mail - please realize that my time on computers for the past 10 weeks is very limited, I will be writing all of you very soon when I have a little more free time at my site - I really do miss everyone!
Peace
Saturday, August 9, 2008
The Disclaimer
Just so everyone is aware...with the exception of the blogs typed expertly by my father, all of my blogs are written in a window of 5 minutes, without a spell check. Its not that I'm forgetting the english language (though there are a lot of words that I forget and replace with Kiswahili) its just that I am pressed for time and don't have the keyboarding expertice that I used to.
I will be sending the new post information as well as a ton of pictures soon...stay tuned, and write to me after you get the new address...I miss all of you, but I'm still lovin Africa!
Baadaye!
I will be sending the new post information as well as a ton of pictures soon...stay tuned, and write to me after you get the new address...I miss all of you, but I'm still lovin Africa!
Baadaye!
Tanzania Tidbits
So, I've been living my blog vicariously through my father for the past 7 weeks, as I have had no access to internet in my village (in fact, my village doesn't even sell toilet paper), so a special thanks to him.
For this past week, I have been living in a smaller village (and also harder to get to village) of L'angata, where I have been shadowing an education volunteer for the past week in the hopes to learn of the wisdoms of peace corps from his wise experience. Unfortunatly for myself and the other two volunteers who shadowed with my, Eathan had a TV and DVD player, so whereas I really did enjoy visiting his village, I also enjoyed watching almost an entire season of Heros, followed by a lot of Brad Pitt movies.
Actually, we did learn a little in Eathans village. This village is in the Kilomanjaro region of Tanzania, whereas this is usually a lush environment with lots of vegtables and a cool mountain breeze, God seems to have forgotton about L'angata, and thus all that is here is dirt, thorns, and TONS of donkeys. I really can't impress just how many donkeys there are in L'angata, and though they cannot be used for anything but hauling heavy objects (apparently its hard to farm in bedrock in an area where rain doesn't exist) they are well respected members of the community, as any given day you see a donkey from your back yard to inside the school buildings.
This week I will finally find out where my site is, my site being the place where I will live for the next two years. Once I get this information, an new address and of course stories describing where I will live will quickly follow, as well as the TONS of pictures that I have taken while in Tanzania but have been unable to share. I would like to point out, that I have recieved 7 letters and have re-read them each at least 10 times. For those of you who have written, spot on - I will re-write you as soon as I find a post office where the workers decided to show up for the day. For those of you who haven't written...seriously? Write me letters! I like being entertained by American news...and I really do miss being an intricate part of everyones life!
I need to post this before the internet crashes again...for more, see new post 2...
For this past week, I have been living in a smaller village (and also harder to get to village) of L'angata, where I have been shadowing an education volunteer for the past week in the hopes to learn of the wisdoms of peace corps from his wise experience. Unfortunatly for myself and the other two volunteers who shadowed with my, Eathan had a TV and DVD player, so whereas I really did enjoy visiting his village, I also enjoyed watching almost an entire season of Heros, followed by a lot of Brad Pitt movies.
Actually, we did learn a little in Eathans village. This village is in the Kilomanjaro region of Tanzania, whereas this is usually a lush environment with lots of vegtables and a cool mountain breeze, God seems to have forgotton about L'angata, and thus all that is here is dirt, thorns, and TONS of donkeys. I really can't impress just how many donkeys there are in L'angata, and though they cannot be used for anything but hauling heavy objects (apparently its hard to farm in bedrock in an area where rain doesn't exist) they are well respected members of the community, as any given day you see a donkey from your back yard to inside the school buildings.
This week I will finally find out where my site is, my site being the place where I will live for the next two years. Once I get this information, an new address and of course stories describing where I will live will quickly follow, as well as the TONS of pictures that I have taken while in Tanzania but have been unable to share. I would like to point out, that I have recieved 7 letters and have re-read them each at least 10 times. For those of you who have written, spot on - I will re-write you as soon as I find a post office where the workers decided to show up for the day. For those of you who haven't written...seriously? Write me letters! I like being entertained by American news...and I really do miss being an intricate part of everyones life!
I need to post this before the internet crashes again...for more, see new post 2...
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Dear Mom and Dad:
Entry via Letter
Dear Mon and Dad:
I don’t want to start the letter with things I need you to send me, but I’ve decided that it would ultimately be amusing to explain why I need all the things I’m asking you to send me. I know you’re excited for that list so here goes….
1. Container of vanilla flavoring – candy and gum.
2. Peelers
3. Kitchen knives (2 pairing, 1 “chicken slicer”.
4. Butter and maple flavoring
5. Earphones – not the $0.99 duds – I need ones that will last.
6. Nail manicure / toe clippers.
7. Clearasil bar soap (3) with plastic container.
8. DVD’s – Jason knows what I watch. Get him to assemble 20 of my favorites.
Now, let’s move into the reasoning for this package, shall we? Some are more amusing than others but they are all necessary.
Container of Vanilla – Spices, flavorings, and (god forbid) chocolate RARELY occur here, it is necessary for my mental health that I receive vanilla (mental health? Seriously believe it – according to the PC rules I can get a paid vacation to Reno with those 2 magic words) so that I can cook Banana bread and cookies – sending it would only benefit you in the long run, as I’ll be able to cook more when you arrive to visit.
Peelers – There are three vegetables that make up the Tanzanian lunch, supper and snack groups, these are tomatoes, potatoes, and onions. Now, in order to eat tomatoes one does not simply slice in to “bun” slices, one peels said tomato with (what I’m assuming at one point once was) a knife, then mashes it into sauce for: cabbage, tompe, wali, ugali, potatoes, and various meat dishes. When not mashed the tomato can be sliced for salad (though no-one told my mama that tomatoes are consumed in this fashion). Now I know what you are thinking – what does the have to do with a peeler; you said you have a sharp object. Every time I pick up a knife and a Tomato, whether or not I actually want to peel it, a little piece of my mama dies. This is probably due to the fact that I take half of the usable tomato off with the peel, I take a little over 20 minutes to peel one tomato the size of a tennis ball, and I always resort to creative “mzungu 4-letter words” when I drop the tomato (on our dirt floor) or knick myself with the knife. Thus, if you send peelers, you will be helping thousand of tomatoes fullfill their destiny of being consumed by me or the other poor souls who eat my cooking.
Kitchen knives (3)
Paring knives are used for every meal, whether they have a handle, are sharp, or at one point doubled as a spear. I like my hands, cutting off a finger because I had to use my machete to butcher a chicken would be a shame.
Butter & Maple Flavoring – See note on vanilla…... sprinkle in more mental health words…
Earphones – It never occurred to me (while I was packing 8 pairs of shoes, extra everything, or buying hard-core cases for my electronic appliances) that Africa is a hot, dusty, and humid country. When the earphones I have die (don’t even get me started on the I Pod) I will have to actually listen to the rats in my room fighting in my dresser over whom gets to urinate on my computer next, when this occurs one of two things will happen. I’ll man up and attach the rats with a flashlight (and probably lose a limb) or I’ll sing to myself – in which case I’ll never fall asleep (and the rats won’t either).
Nail Manicure kit & Toe Clippers – This is a good one! So – I stopped biting my nails- good thing right? WRONG! Apparently you people who don’t bite your nails actually have the damn things still growing and to slow this process you clip them…crazy concept, but here’s the best part. Those long nails can now house the eggs of worms which-once ready can climb from my comfortable nail beds in to my food, then snuggle into my small intestine, unit painfully exiting via my rectum at a later date (if indeed they decide to leave at all). The best one was a girl in my CBT, who popped a zit with her long nails until it bled, then continued to scratch it. She had ringworm on her chin the next day, and I had short nails as of the minute I saw that ringworm. I cut them off with my sewing scissors. Please send the real thing.
Clearasil Bars of Soap – Lets be honest, no one likes acne least of all me, but I just don’t want to wash my face with soap that barely comes off my skin to begin with, it’s yucky and pink – I don’t’ want to look like Kirby all day. The malaria medication I’m taking doubles as acne medication (a small perk when you include the other lovely side effects, including yeast infections) so this is keeping my face polka-dot free, but I need something more, the Massai will offer less cows in a marriage proposal for mzungus with acne. I’m guessing no more than 3; attractive mzungus with no acne could pull down at least 5 cows for a marriage proposal. Moral of the story – no acne for me = more Massai cows for you…think about it.
Candy and Gum – Once again this is a metal health issue. Candy and Gum…gum doesn’t exist here, and candy is expensive and hard to find, so I’d really like to curb my sweet-tooth…which is slowly shrinking in to a salt tooth, as I am unable to find sweet things to suckle here in Africa.
I hope this has been educational letter in some respects, at least you know what I can’t live without and why. We’re still learning a ridiculous amount of Kiswahili; we had three tests this week, are reviewing our health knowledge, are reviewing our written Kiswahili and are reviewing our spoken Kiswahili, which we take tomorrow. I actually don’t mind speaking Kiswahili, don’t get me wrong, I don’t speak it incredibly well, but I’m getting to the point now where I can have conversations with my mama and siblings. My mama is incredibly excited that you are coming to visit me, she says she wants you to visit in Chanzuru and meet her and the family, I think it would be a great experience if time allowed, seeing how a Tanzanian family operates is really a special occurrence. Tourists definitely don’t get that side of Tanzania. Well I hope that you have a wonderful week. I’ll be sure to write soon-don’t hold your breath for a e-mail, it probably wont happen for 2 more weeks!
Lots of Love, Mirinda
Dear Mon and Dad:
I don’t want to start the letter with things I need you to send me, but I’ve decided that it would ultimately be amusing to explain why I need all the things I’m asking you to send me. I know you’re excited for that list so here goes….
1. Container of vanilla flavoring – candy and gum.
2. Peelers
3. Kitchen knives (2 pairing, 1 “chicken slicer”.
4. Butter and maple flavoring
5. Earphones – not the $0.99 duds – I need ones that will last.
6. Nail manicure / toe clippers.
7. Clearasil bar soap (3) with plastic container.
8. DVD’s – Jason knows what I watch. Get him to assemble 20 of my favorites.
Now, let’s move into the reasoning for this package, shall we? Some are more amusing than others but they are all necessary.
Container of Vanilla – Spices, flavorings, and (god forbid) chocolate RARELY occur here, it is necessary for my mental health that I receive vanilla (mental health? Seriously believe it – according to the PC rules I can get a paid vacation to Reno with those 2 magic words) so that I can cook Banana bread and cookies – sending it would only benefit you in the long run, as I’ll be able to cook more when you arrive to visit.
Peelers – There are three vegetables that make up the Tanzanian lunch, supper and snack groups, these are tomatoes, potatoes, and onions. Now, in order to eat tomatoes one does not simply slice in to “bun” slices, one peels said tomato with (what I’m assuming at one point once was) a knife, then mashes it into sauce for: cabbage, tompe, wali, ugali, potatoes, and various meat dishes. When not mashed the tomato can be sliced for salad (though no-one told my mama that tomatoes are consumed in this fashion). Now I know what you are thinking – what does the have to do with a peeler; you said you have a sharp object. Every time I pick up a knife and a Tomato, whether or not I actually want to peel it, a little piece of my mama dies. This is probably due to the fact that I take half of the usable tomato off with the peel, I take a little over 20 minutes to peel one tomato the size of a tennis ball, and I always resort to creative “mzungu 4-letter words” when I drop the tomato (on our dirt floor) or knick myself with the knife. Thus, if you send peelers, you will be helping thousand of tomatoes fullfill their destiny of being consumed by me or the other poor souls who eat my cooking.
Kitchen knives (3)
Paring knives are used for every meal, whether they have a handle, are sharp, or at one point doubled as a spear. I like my hands, cutting off a finger because I had to use my machete to butcher a chicken would be a shame.
Butter & Maple Flavoring – See note on vanilla…... sprinkle in more mental health words…
Earphones – It never occurred to me (while I was packing 8 pairs of shoes, extra everything, or buying hard-core cases for my electronic appliances) that Africa is a hot, dusty, and humid country. When the earphones I have die (don’t even get me started on the I Pod) I will have to actually listen to the rats in my room fighting in my dresser over whom gets to urinate on my computer next, when this occurs one of two things will happen. I’ll man up and attach the rats with a flashlight (and probably lose a limb) or I’ll sing to myself – in which case I’ll never fall asleep (and the rats won’t either).
Nail Manicure kit & Toe Clippers – This is a good one! So – I stopped biting my nails- good thing right? WRONG! Apparently you people who don’t bite your nails actually have the damn things still growing and to slow this process you clip them…crazy concept, but here’s the best part. Those long nails can now house the eggs of worms which-once ready can climb from my comfortable nail beds in to my food, then snuggle into my small intestine, unit painfully exiting via my rectum at a later date (if indeed they decide to leave at all). The best one was a girl in my CBT, who popped a zit with her long nails until it bled, then continued to scratch it. She had ringworm on her chin the next day, and I had short nails as of the minute I saw that ringworm. I cut them off with my sewing scissors. Please send the real thing.
Clearasil Bars of Soap – Lets be honest, no one likes acne least of all me, but I just don’t want to wash my face with soap that barely comes off my skin to begin with, it’s yucky and pink – I don’t’ want to look like Kirby all day. The malaria medication I’m taking doubles as acne medication (a small perk when you include the other lovely side effects, including yeast infections) so this is keeping my face polka-dot free, but I need something more, the Massai will offer less cows in a marriage proposal for mzungus with acne. I’m guessing no more than 3; attractive mzungus with no acne could pull down at least 5 cows for a marriage proposal. Moral of the story – no acne for me = more Massai cows for you…think about it.
Candy and Gum – Once again this is a metal health issue. Candy and Gum…gum doesn’t exist here, and candy is expensive and hard to find, so I’d really like to curb my sweet-tooth…which is slowly shrinking in to a salt tooth, as I am unable to find sweet things to suckle here in Africa.
I hope this has been educational letter in some respects, at least you know what I can’t live without and why. We’re still learning a ridiculous amount of Kiswahili; we had three tests this week, are reviewing our health knowledge, are reviewing our written Kiswahili and are reviewing our spoken Kiswahili, which we take tomorrow. I actually don’t mind speaking Kiswahili, don’t get me wrong, I don’t speak it incredibly well, but I’m getting to the point now where I can have conversations with my mama and siblings. My mama is incredibly excited that you are coming to visit me, she says she wants you to visit in Chanzuru and meet her and the family, I think it would be a great experience if time allowed, seeing how a Tanzanian family operates is really a special occurrence. Tourists definitely don’t get that side of Tanzania. Well I hope that you have a wonderful week. I’ll be sure to write soon-don’t hold your breath for a e-mail, it probably wont happen for 2 more weeks!
Lots of Love, Mirinda
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Top 5
The top 5 things I enjoy about Africa (thus far).
5. Kongas
No matter how many times in a row I have to wear a skirt, I can always change it up with a new Konga (piece of cloth tied around the waist like a towel) whose colors I can switch every day. For extra flavor, I change the smells of my konga, from soapy fresh bath konga to smoky cooking konga. I like to keep the public on their toes.
4. Muzungu
A muzungu is the African term for white person or foreigner. True, not a particularly great term, but when you walk down the streets and everyone drops what they are doing to lovingly call to you, and the ever more popular follow and call at the same time, it's hard not to feel like Brittney Spears being chased by the paparazzi (I wonder what my village would think if I shaved my head).
3. Chakula
The food here supposedly makes boys skinny and girls fat, this is due to the amount of starch that makes up a large portion of the Tanzanian diet. To this, I can only say, Bring it on! My Tanzanian mom (also know as Wolfgang Puck) is an amazing cook, beans, bananas,potatoes, cabbage, she is a genius with a charcoal stove, and I have no issue gaining a flat tire around the middle to satisfy her intense need to serve my 3 helpings at every meal.
2. Mbu
Owing to my large wariness of the fun of contracting Hepatitis C I have decided to stop biting my finger nails. At first I was annoyed by these long worthless dead deposits of calcium on the tips of my fingers, but thankfully the Mbu (mosquito) have provided me a solution, and now I have hours of entertainment scratching the millions of bites that cover my feet, legs, and arms.
Thank you mbu.
And the #1 reason I enjoy Africa............
It is true that you can get some horrible sickness while in Africa, but if you are a PCV, you have the super-duper, medical protective drug bubble. I have enough shots to avoid Meningitis, Yellow Fever, Flu, Typhoid, and Malaria. Lets not forget that I need only two extra shots should I be bitten by a rabid version of Pumbaa (because I already have the other 3 rabies shots).
True, no one is immune from the runs, but if you really think about it, with all the starch we eat, having the runs is slightly better than the alternative (having a "food baby" in your belly).
These reasons my friends, are why you should all come visit me soon (or within 6 months, as sanctioned by PC).
Ta!
5. Kongas
No matter how many times in a row I have to wear a skirt, I can always change it up with a new Konga (piece of cloth tied around the waist like a towel) whose colors I can switch every day. For extra flavor, I change the smells of my konga, from soapy fresh bath konga to smoky cooking konga. I like to keep the public on their toes.
4. Muzungu
A muzungu is the African term for white person or foreigner. True, not a particularly great term, but when you walk down the streets and everyone drops what they are doing to lovingly call to you, and the ever more popular follow and call at the same time, it's hard not to feel like Brittney Spears being chased by the paparazzi (I wonder what my village would think if I shaved my head).
3. Chakula
The food here supposedly makes boys skinny and girls fat, this is due to the amount of starch that makes up a large portion of the Tanzanian diet. To this, I can only say, Bring it on! My Tanzanian mom (also know as Wolfgang Puck) is an amazing cook, beans, bananas,potatoes, cabbage, she is a genius with a charcoal stove, and I have no issue gaining a flat tire around the middle to satisfy her intense need to serve my 3 helpings at every meal.
2. Mbu
Owing to my large wariness of the fun of contracting Hepatitis C I have decided to stop biting my finger nails. At first I was annoyed by these long worthless dead deposits of calcium on the tips of my fingers, but thankfully the Mbu (mosquito) have provided me a solution, and now I have hours of entertainment scratching the millions of bites that cover my feet, legs, and arms.
Thank you mbu.
And the #1 reason I enjoy Africa............
It is true that you can get some horrible sickness while in Africa, but if you are a PCV, you have the super-duper, medical protective drug bubble. I have enough shots to avoid Meningitis, Yellow Fever, Flu, Typhoid, and Malaria. Lets not forget that I need only two extra shots should I be bitten by a rabid version of Pumbaa (because I already have the other 3 rabies shots).
True, no one is immune from the runs, but if you really think about it, with all the starch we eat, having the runs is slightly better than the alternative (having a "food baby" in your belly).
These reasons my friends, are why you should all come visit me soon (or within 6 months, as sanctioned by PC).
Ta!
Friday, June 27, 2008
The Post!
Hi everyone, I definitly won't be able to get to the internet for the next 8 weeks, so unfortunatly you will just have to wait to get information from me! The good news is that I have a mailing address, for information on that please contact my parents at dixie.trout@pearson.com and they will send it to you, or you can get it from facebook!
Africa is amazing, and unlike anything I thought it would be. I have mastered the squat (for use of the choo), become incredibly fond of rice, but not ugali (which is flour with a little water) and also very fond of every vegetable under the sun, all of which are sold here. This is a great place to come to visit (hint, hint)
I dont have a lot of time to relate stories, because I only have 5 minutes of internet time, but I will have plenty by the time I am out of training, I might even write them in Kiswahili! :)
Lots of love to all of you!
Africa is amazing, and unlike anything I thought it would be. I have mastered the squat (for use of the choo), become incredibly fond of rice, but not ugali (which is flour with a little water) and also very fond of every vegetable under the sun, all of which are sold here. This is a great place to come to visit (hint, hint)
I dont have a lot of time to relate stories, because I only have 5 minutes of internet time, but I will have plenty by the time I am out of training, I might even write them in Kiswahili! :)
Lots of love to all of you!
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Arrived!
I have finally arrived in Tanzania and am now getting used to getting up early, using squat toilets, and getting vaccinations! Today we had to get our HUGE medical kit, which includes some in depth instructions for any medical malady that may hit (but with a special emphasis on diarrhea) and we also got internet access (though not much!) and picked up our passports. Its nice to have an easy day after all of the traveling...8 hours from DC to Frankfurt, then 50 minutes to Zurich, then 8 more hours to Naraobi and finally 1 hour to Dar es Salaam. Tomorrow is the day I am worried about, we have to get vaccinations for EVERYTHING, including rabies, Heps A and B, a new Flu shot, and many, many, more! More news to come soon, including pictures, once I get the feel for where I can use my camera! :)
Monday, June 9, 2008
First Day!
Well I'm excited to finally be getting started with the Peace Corps things, but also a little nervous as we spent a lot of today with quotes like these:
Some people say the glass is half empty, some say the glass is half full. Peace Corps Tanzania volunteers look at the glass and say "Look, I can take a shower".
A lot of the stuff we are learning is really interesting, like safety and security tips, I've already made the decision to sleep with my camera. ;)
More to come after day two, but I should point out that I crossed over from being an official invitee of the PC to an official trainee...so Wahoo for me (they say to celebrate the small accomplishments, so please feel free to be ecstatic on each baby step I take) ;)
Some people say the glass is half empty, some say the glass is half full. Peace Corps Tanzania volunteers look at the glass and say "Look, I can take a shower".
A lot of the stuff we are learning is really interesting, like safety and security tips, I've already made the decision to sleep with my camera. ;)
More to come after day two, but I should point out that I crossed over from being an official invitee of the PC to an official trainee...so Wahoo for me (they say to celebrate the small accomplishments, so please feel free to be ecstatic on each baby step I take) ;)
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Getting Ready
So I'm getting ready to leave for Tanzania...and getting poorer by the minute! :) I have all of my stuff, but I'm still needing to collect all of my pictures and books and toys to take with me. Right now I just wanted to test out this whole blog thing...I'm going to post a couple of pictures of getting ready to leave soon...again just to test this whole blogging thing out.
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