The Last Chapter

Proof that it is time for me to go home? I got slapped in the head by a crazy lady on the street this week and I didn’t even mind. Seriously. There is this lady that walks around Mbeya town with an insane big red streaked weave, wearing bright crazy eye makeup and powder made for white faces, sometimes carrying a stuffed animal, always arguing with herself. Usually she just struts around town in her own little world, but not this time. She was walking down the hill and I was walking up the hill on the main street in front of the post office. She was yelling at herself, I was texting. Next thing I know, she’s yelling at me. I tried to ignore her and just step around her and keep walking, but she stepped in front of me and got in my face yelling who knows what. When I tried to step around her again, she was indignant and pulled back and straight up slapped me up the side of my head. Everyone walking around us on the street stopped and stared, waiting for my reaction. To my great surprise, I didn’t even skip a beat. I just kept texting and walked right on by her. That’s how at peace I am with finishing my service this week.
It’s weird. I feel I’ve been counting down the days until I get to go home for such a long time, that now all of the sudden that its down to 1, it feels like it just snuck up on me. I don’t really think it has hit me yet. I said goodbye to my village on Monday and it just felt so calm and normal, not like it was goodbye forever. Then I went to Matema Beach on Lake Malawi one last time for a couple of my PCV friends’ wedding. I didn’t feel like that was the last opportunity to hang out with those people in Tanzania. Sunday morning I said goodbye to my friends in Mbeya. But it didn’t feel like goodbye goodbye. More like a bye, I have to go to Dar, I’ll see you next week kind of bye.
But it’s real. It’s happening. It’s over.
And how can I really sum up these last 2 years? I can’t. It’s too much to process all at once. I don’t really know if I have done anything truly significant for the betterment of Tanzania. But (as completely cheesy as it sounds) I know that Tanzania has done something for the betterment of me. I wanted to grow up a little. To test myself. To push myself out of my comfort zone. To learn to survive and thrive out on my own, in unfamiliar territory. I’m more confident in my own skin. I feel like I know myself better. I’ve become more confortable with silence and stillness and just sitting. But I still have a thirst for more. I can’t wait for the next chapter in my life. I truly have no idea what the future holds for me. I’m not even sure which continent I’ll be on this time next year. But I’ve developed an ability to take life as it comes. Make plans if you want to, but adjust them when you need to.
I used to always need to know the next step. And although I still like to have an idea of what’s ahead, I can just enjoy the moment better due to this experience. It’s okay to slow down once in a while. It’s okay to change your mind. I’ve somehow come to the conclusion that I want to go to nursing school when I get home, even though I’ve never considering that career path before in my life. I’m craving something a little more concrete after two years of blowing in the wind. It’s been a great period to explore and grow, and now I want a little structure. At least for a while. Then maybe I won’t. And that will be ok too. That’s one aspect of nursing that really appeals to me, that you can do almost anything almost anywhere in the world with it.
And the best bonus of this once in a lifetime experience…finding the person I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. During my application process, my recruiter mentioned that a lot of people do find love in the Peace Corps. Mine may be in an unusual way, meeting a Brazilian in Tanzania rather than a fellow Peace Corps Volunteer or Host Country National, but I think that’s one thing that makes it so great. All of the tiny decisions we made that brought us here and put us together. Fate, if you ask me. I’m so glad that I’ll always have someone who understands this period in my life, because he experienced it right along with me. He’s been there through some of the toughest most stressful times that I’ve probably ever had (everything is a million times more dramatic feeling when you’re so far from home in a place so unlike home).
And now we get to let life take us wherever it will together in this next chapter of our lives. No, stratch that. I feel like this is the last chapter of an entirely different book in my life. Nothing will ever be quite like these last two years have been. A first year PCV friend of mine asked me the other day if I had to do all over again knowing everything that I know now, would I still choose to become a Peace Corps Volunteer, and I answered her, definitely. Despite all of the annoyances and the homesickness and the setbacks, this complete experience has been completely worth it. I don’t see how anyone could ever possibly regret being a PCV.
So though I’m here in Dar, completing the COS (close of service) process, I agree with what they told us at our COS conference in May. Not to think of this as the close of service, but just preparing for a continuation of service. For a lifetime of giving back to the world that has given me so much. For continuing to live life always wanting to learn more, to do more. To see as much of this playground of a world we live in as possible. And to keep asking myself the question that Peace Corps first asked me over 2 years ago, “Life is calling, how far will you go?”

Some things never change. In every part of the world. But it seems like here in Tanzania, MANY things never change. In fact, MOST things never change. But is that a good thing or a bad thing?

In America, we embrace change and progress. We sing its praises. We think it’s the only way to go. But what’s to say for things saying the same? In Tanzania, there is little uncertainty. People know what they are going to be doing, tomorrow, next weekend, five years from now…because it is what they have always done. And it is what everyone else has always done. And while that may sound sad to you, I think it is in some ways comforting and reassuring to most of the people living in that eternal cycle here. They know their role in their society, and they fulfill it, and they feel like they have accomplished all that they need to accomplish.

To me, looking at them from an American perspective, I tend feel sorry for many of them, working all day, one day to the next, never daring to hope for more, never getting those opportunities that I have taken for granted my entire life. And I don’t think that it is wrong to try to give them a little hope and encouragement, to show them that there is more for them in life if they are brave enough to go for it. To tell them that they don’t have to just accept their lot in life because its what their mothers had and their grandmothers had. To show them that it is possible to be educated and to travel and to excel.

But I also don’t think that I am the only one that has something to teach them. I see that they have things that I don’t have. Like that they are not always in a hurry, they know how to just sit and relax and talk with their neighbors. They don’t always feel like they need to be doing something or going somewhere. They don’t feel guilty for taking some time to do absolutely nothing. They don’t feel like there is a certain amount of things they must accomplish in a day or in a life in order to feel successful. They just wake up, and do what they can. They take their time. And that would be nice, to be able to take life one day at a time the way that they do.

And so with change and progress, there is a delicate balance. I personally believe that it is good to grow and evolve and try new and different things in life. But I have also learned that change just for the sake of change and progress for the sake of progress is not necessarily a good thing. It not only has to be needed, but it must be wanted. Which is what I’m gradually beginning to get into my thick skull. I can’t make anyone want to come learn new, more nutritious ways of cooking, they must feel on their own that it is something that they need and want. I can’t make anyone learn to save their money, or make a budget, or plant new vegetables, or make their own compost, they have to have that spark within that tells them that things don’t have to always stay the same. They have to know for themselves that many times change can be good and that progress can lead to an easier life. But its not my job to thrust that change upon them, I’m just supposed to be here when they ask for it.

Back in the Loop

Soooooooooo, we meet again. Sorry its been so long. For a while there I just didn't really have anything to say, then I didn't really have anything positive to say, then I got a little wrapped up in my personal life. But now I'm back. I'm going to try to get back on schedule. Really, you didn't miss too much. Apart from me getting engaged and going on vacation back to America for two weeks then on to Brazil for two more weeks to meet my future in-laws. I'm actually on my way back to Tanzania right now.

I definately believe that the vacation served its purpose. I feel rested and recharged and remotivated and ready to get back in there and try to do some productive things. I was kind of in a slump for a while there. I was starting to let my village's overall feelings of apathy get to me. I was thinking that if they didn't care about anything that I was trying to do, then why should I even try? But trying is the whole point. I'm supposed to give them the opportunities and the people that want to take them will. I'm supposed to show them what could be and those that want it to be will make it happen. I'm supposed to be the spark that gets the fire going, but the have to be the one to fuel it to keep it burning.

I knew it wasn't going to be easy, this whole experience, but I thought it would get easier. I thought I may work on an exponential curve, very slow at first then all of the sudden be so busy and accomplished. But I guess that old tortoise was right, slow and steady. I see now that I've just got to keep chipping at it piece by piece. Some of the ideas and concepts I bring to them are things that they've never really considered. Life has always been a certain way, for hundreds of years, and I am just now brining some new things to them that they have to digest. I know that I don't have to take my little village with no electricity or plumbing and turn it into a industrial metropolis in the two year period I've been given. All I have to do is be a resource for those that want to try to make their lives and the lives of their families and neighbors a little bit better. Step by step. Day by day.

So basically I plan on just doing what I was doing. Go to teach that English class and the kids that want to learn, will. Go to have that widow's group meeting and the women that want to participate, will. Have a nutritious cooking class for mothers and those that want to come, will. And that's all I can expect. And that's just fine.

So that's me making my peace with my challenging work situation. And my personal life is going great. My wedding planning is on track and my fiance's family is so nice and welcoming. Despite them not speaking English and me not speaking Portuguese, I didn't feel at all excluded. I immediately felt like a part of the family. Brazil is a great place to be. Not only are the people great, but it is so beautiful! My fiance, Joao Paulo, and I, along with his oldest brother and his brother's wife went for a drive in the mountains near his house a couple of days ago and went way up to a spot where paragliders launch and it was such an amazing view. A little scary since we were standing right on the edge of a mountain with no guardrails or anything like that, but still, so beautiful. Everything was so lush and green. There was even a waterfall in the distance. And the breeze up there was fabulous especially considering that it was 100 degrees down below.

That oppressive heat with no AC was a great contrast to the 20 degree weather that I came back into when I landed back in Florida. I actually even got to see a little snow flurry when we stopped for gas at 5 in the morning. It hasn't snowed in Florida since I was about 2. I think that's a good sign. I think that means 2010 is going to be a good year....

Stuck in the Middle With You

So here I am, a month after Mid-Service Conference (MSC), and what’s going on? ….Not much. I would say my village and I have hit some kind of mid-game slump. The perpetual hump-day if you will.
Mid-Service is a time to look back on what you’ve done so far and feel really good about yourself for making it this far. You’re past the half-way point. Pat yourself on the back. However, on the flipside, its also a time to think, “What? Only half-way? What am I going to do with myself for another whole year?”
It’s a time to think about what has worked for you and try to continue doing that. And to realize what has not worked and make adjustments. This isn’t quite as easy as it sounds though. By this time, you’ve settled into a routine. People know what to expect of you and you know what to expect of them.
The problem that I am most of encountering at this point is a difficulty getting people to show up to things. Anything. I tried to come back from MSC with a renewed sense of vigor and enthusiasm and forge ahead with new project ideas and revive old ones that have fizzled out. Unfortunately, my village has not been of the same mind. For every meeting that I have planned, people say they are interested and they want to attend, but when we actually plan the time and place and announce it, nobody comes. I understood while it was the peak time for harvesting corn and planting potatoes about a month or so ago, but now that’s done with. So now I’m just trying to figure out what exactly is keeping people from participating and finding some way around it.
I’ve got a few ideas that I’ve been trying to make work for the past couple weeks to no avail, but I’m not giving up on them. I have a couple people in my village who are really committed to helping me succeed and I think with their help, we will eventually find enough people to make these projects work. And I’m trying to remind myself that part of the issue is probably that I am the first PCV at my site, so they aren’t used to Peace Corps and our ideals and goals. I think that they just don’t understand what I’m doing there yet and what types of things I can work on with them. So even if I’m not getting the level of participation that I would like to have at this point, I’m at least telling myself that I am getting them warmed up for the next PCV that will come to my village after I leave. They’ll catch on eventually.

Reflections, the half way point

While I’m in not in the best of moods with Tanzania right now, after a week of being stood up for 3 meetings, dusty dirt in my face, and chickens pooping in my house, instead of complaining and downing it, I figure I’ll remind myself of what is so great about this country. It seems an appropriate time to reflect as I have officially been a PCV for exactly a year tomorrow. Weird. Team Mbeya is getting two new members tomorrow. The original Team Mbeya (me, Teri, Meesh, and Tristain) had our last hurrah last weekend at Meesh’s house. I made bagels and burnt blondies, Meesh made some scrambled eggs and tea, Teri provided the entertainment via a tiny version of the movie Mean Girls and a couple of episodes on her iPod, and Tristain, well Tristain didn’t really do anything, but that’s ok. It was kind of funny to see how socially retarded we’ve all gotten as we were all together in the village for once, people to talk to, board games to play, etc., and Meesh would be in the kitchen boiling some water or something and notice a prolonged silence and come into the living room to find us all reading. That’s all there is to do in the village usually and I guess old habits die hard.
So back to reflecting on what makes Tanzania great. Mfano (example) 1, if you tell someone you like something that they are wearing, they will offer to give it to you. Whether it be a bracelet of earrings or a khanga (colorful fabric wrap) or their shoes. Seriously. I told a girl in my village the other day that I liked her shoes and she said, Nitakupa (I’ll give them to you). People just like to give other people things in general. Last week I just decided to go for a walk around the village and I passed one old lady sitting in the dirt peeling sweet potatoes. I was walking past a certain stretch of huts that are in pretty rough shape, many of them propped up with limbs to keep them from collapsing. This bibi (grandmother) is certainly not one of the more comfortable or well off people in my village. And yet she insisted on giving me a sweet potato from her meager pile that I knew would be stretched to feed several of the dusty kids running around the yard that night. I wanted to say No! Feed those hungry kids instead. I have soooo much and you have so little. Even though I would spend what I get from PC for a month in a week’s time in the US, here my monthly allotment is more than what many people see in a year. But she wanted to give it to me. A zawadi (gift).
The day before yesterday my neighbor wanted to learn how to make pizza, so I went up to the family’s house that sells milk to get a liter so we could make the cheese. This family used to be my neighbors, but had to move to a different area of the village because other people didn’t like that they got to live in a house that they didn’t build that used to be housing for teachers. They always give me the milk for free, which is generous enough as it is, but that day she also have me a baggy with about 8 tomatoes and 2 oranges. People are just nice. They like to share. Sharing is a good thing people. (Please excuse my short political tirade, I don’t get to have them very often here because most PCV’s share my political views). But really, look at this example of those who have so much less sharing with those who have so much more. It’s just a nice thing to do for humanity. To each his own, of course, but even hearing secondhand people talking about how they’re “scared” of what Obama may due to this country because he’s a “socialist” is a bit frustrating. First of all, socialism is not communism people. America is not turning into the Soviet Union or Cuba here. Most socialist countries are fabulous places to live and are not at all repressed. They get long maternity leaves and cheap college educations and sufficient vacation days, etc. So just because Obama likes to adhere to the old Declaration of Independence line of, “Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness,” and seems to think that means that people have the right to be healthy, universal healthcare is not evil. And I just have to laugh every time I hear people being concerned for the deficit being created by programs such as this and the stimulus package, seeing how our last “conservative” president took us from a huge surplus to multi-trillion dollar deficit… to accomplish what exactly? (Ok seriously, sorry about that. No offense. Just had to air it out.)
Back to the point of this blog…other nice things people do for me. I’m extremely lucky to have running water in my house, the only person in my village or any surrounding villages to have such a luxury. They made my house special for me with a faucet in the shower and bathroom, a flushable choo (squat toilet), and even a little sink. But there has been a problem with the water intake and for the past couple of weeks I haven’t had water in my house. Does this mean I’ve had to go back to the old pre-service training method of getting water and actually walk up to the pump and get it? No. Every afternoon a group a girls from the primary school comes to get my buckets and fetch it for me. If they don’t, my neighbor goes to get it for me. The one time I tried to go get it on my own, the women at the pump got a kid to carry the bucket back to my house for me. They really try to take care of me in my village.
I mentioned being stood up for 3 meetings this week, which is always a bit frustrating, but the meetings have all been rescheduled for next week so hopefully we can get things rolling with my widows groups again. But work-life hasn’t been a total bust this week. I found out that the five girls from the primary school that I sent to the girl’s conference in June have actually been doing peer education on their own every Monday and Friday at the school. Which is great. No prodding or pushing or planning from me. They completely took the initiative. I went to the class that the two standard 7 girls taught to the other standard 7 girls on Monday. It was really good. They talked about (close your ears boys) periods and they did a really good job. A lot of girls don’t know what their period is when they first get it and they don’t have anyone to talk to about it. The peer educators gave them a good overview of what happens and what they should do then allowed them to ask questions. The questions strayed far from the issue of menstruation and addressed topics as complex as, “Where do babies come from?” and “Why is sex bad?” and “Why can’t girls wear pants?” It was a good discussion. And the peer educators answered most of the questions all on their own with only occasionally turning to me for help. Then after the class, a small group of girls stayed behind to ask me why it is dangerous for girls their age to have sex with older men. They knew that it was, but didn’t really understand why and they wanted to have the details so they could explain them to their friends that they new were engaged in this type of behavior so that they could try to convince them to stop. Wow.
In other less serious matters, I started teaching English to Standard 2 last Thursday. I’m going to try to teach for 30-45 minutes everyday Mon-Thurs, not only for the obvious reason that if they go on to secondary school all instruction is in English and it would help if they were able to understand what was going on, but also because now that we have shelves and shelves of fabulous new books for them to look at, it would be even better if they can eventually read the stories to go along with the pictures! They’re all fascinated with the books. Kids have been coming over to my house a lot lately saying, “Naomba kitabu kusoma.” (May I please have a book to read?) On Monday, we’re finally going to move the stacks of books from my house to the waiting library room, give them a little lesson on how they should wash their hands first and how to turn the pages without damaging them, and then give them their first shot at it. I have high hopes for my English class. It might take a while. I’m trying to ease them into it, I know they have short attention spans as all second graders do, and even shorter because they generally just sit in their classroom without a teacher most of the day doing nothing so when I make them focus it’s a bit difficult, but today at least was a pretty good day. Since most of them don’t know how to read yet, I’m trying to use a combination of drawing pictures and having them repeat the words over and over, but trying to mix things up so it wasn’t just the usual rote memorization. They seemed to start actually trying to think about things a little bit before just blindly repeating everything I said. That’s a start.
So a year in, maybe I don’t have that much that I can point to and say, “ I did that,” but I like to think we’re making progress. We’ve got a couple of things we’re working on and more projects to be started in the near future. When I get back from Mid-Service Conference in Dar in two weeks, the mama I brought to the community theater workshop in Morogoro and I are going to try to start a theater group to provoke conversation and debate about things like stigmatization of those with HIV and older men in using their positions of power to get younger girls to have sex with them. I think it’ll be good. We’ll just have to see how things go. So much has changed and so much has stayed the same since this time last year. It will be interesting to see where this next year takes me.

There's No Place Like Home

After a loooong couple of months packed full of traveling and trainings and teachings, I’m finally back in Mbeya. All of the things that I was doing while I was gone were all good and valuable things to be doing, but its nice to be home. Being away for so long then coming back here just makes me realize all over again how much better the Southern Highlands are than the rest of Tanzania. No offense, but its true. The weather is so beautifully chilly and clear here after the sweltering mugginess of Tanga. The laid back atmosphere is a stark contrast to the busy intenseness of Dar es Salaam. The familiarity is nice after being in Morogoro where you’re just another mzungu among the many. So I’m going to try to enjoy it for the few weeks that I’m here before I have to go back to Dar for our Mid-Service Conference at the end of August.
Last time I wrote, I believe I was in Dar after a crazy three weeks of family vacay time. After that I made my way back up to Tanga region for my turn as PCV of the Week, which was really fun. It was nice having people ask me for my advice, it made me feel like I’ve actually made some progress here. I remember Pre-Service Training quite clearly and all I could think was that I was so happy to not be in their place. I know they are anxious to be done and get to their sites. Then, lucky for me, the week that I was there was their one free weekend away from their host families (when we went on the safari to Mikumi last year). Since PST was moved to Muheza in Tanga instead of Kilosa in Morogoro this year, they were too far away from Mikumi to make that their weekend trip so they ended up going to a beautiful beach resort in Pangani Beach and I got to accompany them. This place was really nice. Like the first thought I had walking up to it was I-feel-like-I-should-be-getting-married-here nice. Its run by a former Peace Corps Volunteer and she gave us a huge discount as a special favor to the trainees. So we spent a really nice relaxing weekend on what felt like a private beach or a deserted island in the lap of luxury eating delicious food. There was one little bout of excitement when I few of us decided to walk along the beach to the town to use the ATM while the tide was coming in and had a slightly terrifying moment of having to cling to a wall of coral as the waves got bigger and stronger crashing into us and we kept having to climb higher and higher to find footholds, but we made it out ok, and decided it would be best to take the main road back to the resort.
Last week I was in Morogoro doing a Community Theater workshop where we, along with a counterpart from each of our villages, learned how to use plays to teach about HIV. It turned out to be pretty fun and I actually learned some new presentation techniques and games to use in my village. And if there was an award for most improved actress, it would definitely have gone to my counterpart. She’s generally a pretty shy person, but by the end of the workshop she had really turned it on and gave a great turn as the star of the final play that we preformed at a local high school about stigmitazation.
I got back into Mbeya late Saturday night then Sunday I had another interesting day. I went with my boyfriend out to where he works cutting blocks of stone out of the mountains about 45 minutes away from Mbeya Town. His boss is here from Italy right now and wanted to do something nice for his Tanzanian employees and their families so he paid for an entire cow to be butchered and brought about 100 sodas for the village to have a little meat and soda party. They hooked up a radio to a car battery and had a good time dancing and singing and eating. And despite not particularly eating meat and having to ride down the worst road I have ever been on to get there, I was glad that I got to go. But seriously, that road was terrible. The first quarter of it was like driving through a pile of flour it was so dusty. On the side of the car against the wind, clouds of dust were being hurled up against the window like sheets of rain in a hurricane. I’ve never seen anything like it. But after we passed the dusty part, it seemed that we were driving on a dry river bed. I definitely would not have taken my car down there. It definitely required 4 wheel drive. There were huge rocks everywhere. I’m surprised I didn’t get a concussion banging my head up against the side of the car as we tumbled over them.
So now I’m just looking forward to getting back to work and trying to accomplish some things I wrote down on my to-do list while I was away. But first I guess I should just walk around my village convincing people that I didn’t go back to America, which is what I’m sure they’re all thinking at this point.

Vacay and Visits

I realize its been a while since I've last updated this thing, but I haven't had much time to sit down and record what's been going on. I've been home 3 days in the last month and have yet a while to go before I can go home again. But while I have a minute here in the Peace Corps Volunteer Lounge in Dar, I'll try to bring you up to speed.

It all started back in the second week of June when I traveled to Tanga, in the Northeastern part of Tanzania, for a Training of Trainers to be PCV of the Week. Which feels kinda wierd. I can't believe I'm already in the position to be dishing out advice to the new class of health and education trainees. I'm no longer a newbie. I'm officially a second year volunteer. Well, I guess not until August technically, but now that a new group is here, I feel like my class can call ourselves the upperclassmen. I spent a week at the this year's new training site, helping Peace Corps staff develop new training implements and making up lesson plans for my own session that I will present on gender and development next week. It was nice to be able to have an imput into how to improve the training process for this year's volunteers, and I'm happy to say that it seemed like the staff really listened to our suggestions and made adjustments accordingly. The schedule for this year's trainees looks really effective.

After the week in Tanga, I went to Dar es Salaam to await the arrival of my parents and sister, who were coming to visit for 3 weeks. The day before they got here, the new class of PCT (Peace Corps Trainees) came in and I was able to go with the staff and a few other PCVs to the airport to meet them. It was kind of a surreal experience being at the airport again for the first time since we arrived seeing the newbies come in and realizing that this is exactly what we looked like at this time last year. As was expected, they we tired and overwhelmed and a little out of it, so we didn't do much talking until the next day. My family wasn't coming in until late so I got to hang out with them the whole day and get a feel for them and I liked the vibe that I got so far. It will be interesting to get back to them next week and see how far they've come and what questions they've been harboring for the last few weeks since I've seen them last.

That night, my family flew in to Dar and I went to meet them at the airport. Also a little surreal. I had never lived away from home minus a 7 week summer study abroad in Austria 2 years ago so to have not seen them for an entire year then suddenly have them show up in Africa, especially since none of them have ever done any traveling and haven't even left the country before coming here, was wierd. I actually didn't even recognize my dad the first second that I saw him. But to my surprise, I was spared a weepy, huggy, scene, and they relatively calmly greeted me and we proceeded to our hotel without incident. Well, sorta. They had A LOT of luggage and we didn't exactly fit so great into the taxi, but hey, I'm not complaining. Two of their six bags was loaded down with goodies for me! And I hadn't seen my big sister for a whole year so I didn't mind snuggling in the front seat with her and two backpacks.

Back at the Econo Lodge Hotel, which would be our home base each time we passed through Dar during our whirlwind Tanzanian tour, we stayed up til about 3 AM going through all my loot and adjusting the packing scheme for our trip to Arusha the next morning. Oh did I say the next morning? What I meant was about 2 hours later. Our bus to Arusha left at 6AM so we had a taxi coming to pick us up to take us to the bus station at 5AM and therefore woke up at 4:15. Hey, sleep when your dead, right? I told my family that I was just going to through them right in, to give them the authentic (aka budget) experience, but I didn't mean to toss them straight to the sharks. The main bus stand in Dar is an insane place. Shagalabagala, as we say in Swahili. Chaos. Maddening, ridiculous chaos all around. Even at 5AM. Especially at 5AM. And it was made 10 times worse by the good intentions of our taxi driver trying to take us straight to the bus instead of dropping us at the ticket office. Which would have probably worked out if anything in this country made sense like it might in America, but alas, tis not the case. A lot of times here, a company will sell you a ticket that may have a certain bus company's name on it which is in fact not the name of the company that you will end up traveling on. So we had a minor freak out when our taxi driver kept asking for where the bus line that was printed on our ticket was leaving from and people kept saying that there was no bus from that line leaving at that time. But no worries. After a frantic scrambling from the back of the bus station, squeezing between about 100 buses and horn-honking taxis with ALL of our riduculously bulky and uncooperative luggage up to find the guy I bought the tickets from so he could take us to the bus he intended us to get on, all was well. Pay no attention to that shell shocked look on my mother's face.

The first bus ride is always an eye-opening experience to newcomers to the lack of driving skills of Tanzanians. The buses like to pretend that they are trains. High speed lines. They just barrel through, speed bumps, pot holes, and pedestrians be damned. They just lay on the horn and expect everything to move. Nevertheless, we made it to Arusha Town alive and were met there by my Tanzanian's friend uncle whom we had arranged to be our driver and guide on our safari the next day in the Ngorongoro Crater. He delievered us to our bed and breakfast and we pretty much ate a quick plate of rice and beans and went to bed. The next morning we went on our safari and I think my family really enjoyed it. We were able to see all the African mainstays, even a couple of the more diffucult to spot predators like lions and a cheetah. Unfortunately they were all feeling pretty lazy that day and there wasn't much action to witness as they all lounged in the tall grasses, but it was cool anyway. And the crater itself is really beautiful as it is. That night was probably when the culture shock really started setting in for my family when we arrived at our guest house for the evening. I didn't see what the big deal was, as the place was reccomended to me by Peace Corps Volunteers that live in that region and stay at this place often and it wasn't so bad by Tanzania standards. But when I tried on a little sensitivity and looked at it from an outsiders point of view, the place was a bit ghetto. But as we sat down and ate some spaghetti and my parents saw more and more tourists and backpackers coming in to stay there that seemed completely at ease with their surroundings, they relaxed a bit.

After passing back through Dar for a night to break up the long journey home a little, we made it back into Mbeya Town and slept there for the night. It was cool for my family to meet my friends and boyfriend here and see where I spend my time when I go into town on the weekends. The next morning, we decided to splurge on a taxi all the way to my village from town since we had so much luggage to lug with us. One might presume that a taxi may be safer than a bus or a daladala...and one would be wrong. At least when it comes to the pedistrians well-being. Especially the particular pedestrian that we happened to hit on the way. Its ok, he ended up being fine. Our driver was really upset though. Not so much that he just nearly killed a person. Oh no. He was pissed because we he hit the guy he broke a side view mirror. So after having a hissy fit, he got back in the car and drove us the rest of the way like a bat out of hell almost running into countless other cars, people and stationary objects. Then finally...

HOME! It was great to have my family see my house and my village and meet my neighbors and see how I live. They got a kick of how much fun a group a full grown women who were taking a break from building a house next door to mine got out of a soccer ball that they brought me. They saw my dad pumping it up and shyly asked if they could play with it, and when I tossed it to them, the whole lot of them jumped up like excited little kids and ran around tossing it back and forth in soccer field in front of my house. Amazing how much laughter a $4 rubber ball can bring.

After three days impressing them with my village cooking skills, we ventured into another mode of transport and took a coaster (minibus) to Matema Beach on Lake Malawi. Despite being sandwiched between two rough and DIRTY coaster rides (I seriously don't think I've ever been as dirty as I was from all the dust when we finally arrived at Matema) , it made for a relaxing couple of days on the beach. After that we hung out in Mbeya Town again for a couple of days, before passing through the Masai Market in Iringa for souveiniers and continuing on to Dar then finally Zanzibar. And despite the annoyance of CONSTANTLY having someone in your face trying to sell you something or take you somewhere there, we were still able to enjoy the beautiful Indian Ocean and the delicious food. We ate a nice place near the ferry in Stone Town called Mercury's 3 times! (Named after Freddie Mercury of Queen who was born in Zanzibar, just a fun fact for you there.) I even got a pina colada! And how could our trip be complete without one last hellish trip on yet another mode of transport, the ferry. It was like the place was possessed. People were barfing EVERYWHERE! Some in the little blue plastic baggies they passed out, some off the side of the ferry outside, some on the floor, in the aisles, in the bathrooms, on themselves. It was crazy! It really was a rough 2 hours though. We were being tossed about quite a bit. I didn't feel so great myself.

But once again, we made it to the otherside alive, if not well, for one last night at good ole Econo Lodge. Their flight didn't leave until late the next night so we spent the next day going to see Trasformers 2 at the completely out of place very nice movie theater in Dar, walking around the grocery store in the 'mall', and eating some questionable Chinese food. To cap off this unusual day, we watched the Michael Jackson memorial on the t.v. in the hotel lobby before I saw my family off in a taxi that was to send them back to the airport.

And even though it got a little crazy at times and a little stressful in spots, it was cool to have the opportunity to hang out with my family for three weeks here in my new home. I was glad that they were able to get a little piece of mind knowing that I'm safe and adjusted here. That my neighbors know me and like me and look out for me. That I've become good friends with the other Peace Corps Volunteers in my area and that my Brazilian boyfriend is a nice guy. I would recommend it to anyone who has the opportunity to host visitors to do it. It definately made me feel much more competent having to take care of people that had no idea what was going on here. To be constantly complimented on my Swahili skills, and knowing where I was going and what I was doing.

So I think that brings you up to date. Now I'm in Dar for a 3 day training for PSDN (peer support and diversity network), which is essentially a group of volunteers that make themselves available for the venting needs of other volunteers. Then when this is over, I'll be heading back up to Tanga to hang out with the PCTs for a week, then to a Community Theater Workshop in Morogoro region before FINALLY getting to go back home. I'll probably have to totally readjust to the whole living alone concept after spending so much time around my family and other volunteers these two months. But I look forward to getting back and getting to work on my library project. Speaking of that, big thanks to my grandparents and the High Springs Rotary and Kiwanis Clubs, and Ms. Weaver and High Springs Community School for the great support that they've offered so far in donations! Can't wait to get those books on the new and empty waiting shelves at the primary school. I know that teachers and students will all be very excited. If you're interested in reading more about the project or donating, you can visit peacecorps.gov and click on the donate button and search by my last name, Gillman, or my project number 621-188 or just follow this link
https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfmshell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=621-188 THANKS so much for any help you can give.