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.

Upendo Hoteli

I finally feel like I’ve accomplished something as a Peace Corps Volunteer! Yey! It only took about a year, but at least I’m getting somewhere now…maybe. Upendo Hoteli (Restaurant of Love) is officially open for business in Kimondo as of today. In the Tanzanian time frame, this happened at lightening speed. I’m really proud of my widow’s group. They’ve been really motivated up to this point. We’ll see how long it lasts, but they’re doing great so far! We went to town together last Saturday to buy all the dishes and a big bag of rice and things of the like. Yesterday we planned on starting, but we had to get the room that we are renting for the restaurant ready as well as going buy a few last touches, like charcoal and bananas. Last night we were trying to get ourselves prepared to serve food first thing in the morning by cooking a loaf of banana bread (which I introduced to them at our cooking seminar at my house last week). However, the whole thing was sold within about 4 minutes of coming out of the “oven.” We cut it up into ten pieces and sold it for 200 Shillings a piece (about $0.14). This morning we planned on baking another loaf first thing, but we had to wait until about 11AM before we found some eggs in the vil, but we went ahead with the chai maziwa (tea with milk) until we finally got all the ingredients we needed. You would think we were serving chocolate soufflé. People are very impressed. So we’re off to a good start at least.
In other commentary, they aren’t kidding when they talk about there being a rainy season and a dry season in Africa. In the rainy season, it literally rained everyday. Now it appears that the rainy season is coming to an end. Perhaps not all at once, but it is clear that the dry season is rapidly approaching. If it doesn’t rain for just one day the dust is back in full force. I’d forgotten how bad it gets. And it doesn’t help that giant trucks fly by going 90 mph on the dry dirt roads. (Survival tip number one for Tanzania: Pedistrians NEVER have the right of way. Ever.)

Productiveness

It’s amazing how a little taste of home can make a person happy. The paradox of sitting in the village reading a Shape magazine while munching on Girl Scout cookies…it’s a beautiful thing. I’m lucky to have a family so devoted to making sure I get my proper dose of processed foods. And even though we had to smuggle them in like cocaine stuffed in an Easter Bunny, I FINALLY got some iPod speakers!!! My life has been infinately better this week! And I was able to sew the bunny back up and give it to my favorite kid in Tanzania, the contraband ended up making TWO girls very happy instead of just one.
So besides trying to ration my Cheezits and enjoying my new coloring books, what have I been up to in the vil? I actually have a few things going on right now. Last Saturday I began training 20 peer educators, 4 from the primary school and 16 from the secondary school. It was a bit challenging for the first day because my counterpart Upendo, who works with a local HIV related NGO, couldn’t be there so I had to facilitate the session by myself. Trying to describe things like role models and qualities we admire in another language is a perfect reminder of just how not-fluent I am in Swahili. But they are good kids and they helped me out and were patient with me so we managed. This coming Saturday should be easier with or without Upendo though, because I will be talking about HIV transmission and prevention, which is what I do here, so I think I’ve at least got that vocab down. The training will be continued for five weeks total, each Saturday in May up until the summer break for school. (Well technically its not summer on this side of the equator but you get the idea). When the school reopens about a month later, the peer educators will be assigned one period per week to teach the other students about HIV, communication skills, decision making skills, relationship skills, and gender roles.
This Wednesday I started working with a widow’s group in the village next to mine, Igoma, and on Thursday I met with the widow's in my village, Kimondo. If it all works out according to plan, for two Wednesdays/Thursdays of the month I will talk about special topics like caring for children with HIV, proper use of ARVs, making budgets, and things of the like. The other two Wednesdays I will teach nutrition and healthy cooking. I showed them how to make biscuits at our first meeting this week and gave them some strawberry jam and they loved it! And we even made preliminary plans to open a resturant in Kimondo!
I’ve also been busy planning a girls’ empowerment camp with seven other volunteers in Mbeya region. We’ve got all kinds of activities planned teaching things like the life skills I’m working with my peer educators on, as well as fun stuff like a spa night and movies and popcorn. Bringing the concept of a sleepover to Africa, isn’t that what Peace Corps is all about? Maybe we can even build a huge tent out of sheets.
But the biggest thing that has gone down lately happened this past weekend. There is a health clinic in Mbeya Town that does HIV testing and they brought a group of people out to my village for a special event on Sunday, which is the market day so there are more people around. They had a group of people around my age that came to do all kinds of things to get people’s attention so that they would come in get tested. They did tribal dancing, and skits about HIV, and acrobatics. It was really fun and 73 people ended up getting tested for HIV and there were a bunch more that were waiting in line that didn’t get the chance to get tested, so I’m going to try to organize another time for them to come and do it again. It is possible to get tested in the dispensary in Igoma, but people are too scared to go down there because they feel like everyone will know why they’re going and they’re embarrassed. But it seems that the whole ‘everybody’s doing it’ idea works here because they were all for it on Sunday. Its sad that 14 people ended up testing positive, but at least now hopefully they can get the help they need to live the longest and healthiest lives possible.
So that’s pretty much what’s on my plate these days. Along with the usual trying to get used to kids staring at me while I eat and trying to remind people that my name is Katie and not Mzungu.

Oh the small humorous moments...

I just wrapped up a month long soccer tournament/HIV seminar for young guys in my village. During the last class, I answered general questions about HIV transmission, condom use, and the myths surrounding these topics. I decided to get one of the participants to explain and demonstrate how to properly use a condom using an empty coke bottle, which went fine. I ended up stuffing this demo condom back in the box to throw away in the garbage basket in my kitchen when I got home.
As I believe I have previously mentioned, I have a crew of boys in the hood that like to hang out/terrorize my house on a regular basis. My most faithful little friend underfoot is the youngest son of my neighbor. He likes to just sit on my kitchen floor and watch me cook (aka wait for me to give him some of whatever food I’m making) while he practicing writing the numbers 1-10 over and over on some notebook paper. Another of his favorite pastimes is to dig through my garbage and find things to play with…
So imagine my surprise when one day last week I am sitting at my ‘dining room’ table writing a letter and out of the corner of my eye, there’s little 6 year old Yosiah, with a bright red strawberry scented condom in his mouth trying to blow it up like a balloon. Priceless.

What its really like

People are always wanting to know, so what is like? Really? Well, its hard to explain. It’s a world of opposites and contradictions. Its up or its down. Its exciting to be so far out of the box, out on my own, living my life…but then again there’s homesickness. Its exhilarating to see the enthusiasm for plans for development at village meetings…and incredibly frustrating when nothing happens beyond the planning stages. Its nice to be able to just slow down the pace of life and smell the roses a bit if you will…and also so annoying when that lack of concept of time means that if you plan a meeting for 8:00 nobody shows up until 9:45. Its great to have some time to myself to just read, relax, and just think…but too much time to myself turns into loneliness and extreme boredom. It’s the day to day that is the biggest challenge. I’m all about planning big projects and have several in the works. But most of them are things that may only last a day or two and that’s it. We have a health/career seminar coming up next month and a girl’s empowerment camp the month after. But we’ve pretty much finished planning them. What am I supposed to do until the time comes around for them to take place? Sleep. Cook. Clean. Read. Give the crazy neighborhood boys candy to make them stop running and screaming around my house. Clean up after crazy neighborhood boys. Cook again. Write letters. Read again. Cook again. Sleep.
There’s still moments when I ask myself what in the world I am doing with my life right now. Did I come to Africa just to read, cook, and sleep? Did I come to sit in a house all day alone and listen to the rain that inevitably comes at some point every single day? But then there’s those moments that remind me what the whole purpose of it all is. For instance right now I’m facilitating a HIV info oriented soccer tournament for teenage/twenty-somethings boys in my village. I, along with my counterpart Lupogo, teach a 45 minute lesson about HIV/STDs/condoms and things of that nature before each of the games. This Monday we played a fact/myth game to instigate discussion about various rumors associated with HIV. One of the questions was whether or not there are tiny wholes in condoms that allow HIV to pass through. The guys were supposed to go to one side of the room if they thought this was true, the other if they thought it was a lie, and hang out in the middle if they weren’t sure. The majority stayed in the middle, a good amount went to the true side and a handful went to the lie side. But what was interesting was during the discussion that followed the movement, one guy said that he heard that there were some condoms that carried HIV themselves! I tried to explain that HIV must live inside of a liquid (blood, semen, vaginal fluid, or breast milk) so it would therefore be impossible for a condom itself to be infected, but I’m not so sure he believed me. The point is, we threw out some pretty far reaching myths and every time there were at least a few people who believed they were true. So I felt like I was doing something semi-productive by at least giving them the facts and stimulating the discussion.
Things move along pretty slowly around here. It’s difficult to see real changes. There’s always setbacks. Like with my community garden project to improve nutrition and income status in my village. I wrote the grant, got the money, bought the supplies… now I’ve just got to get the people to show up to plant it! But at least the orphans have managed to take their share and plant a vegetable garden at the primary school and the group of people with HIV in my village have planted their own garden to share. The people who were most interested in the idea in the first place have yet to do their part, but oh well. The people who need it the most seemed to have benefited.
So there you have it. This is pretty much my life as a PCV.

Just in case you were wondering...

Tanzania isn’t exactly a hotspot for Irish Pubs, but hey, I did hear a nice little tribute to Irish culture on The Voice of America Special English on the radio. They gave a lovely little history of Mother Jones and Bing Crosby. Not exactly green beer, but at least I’m remembering my roots somehow.
On to other reflections: for instance, how they manage to cut the grass without lawn mowers around here. I was pondering this as the rainy season progressed and the grass started getting ridic on the soccer field in front of my house. It was up to my knees and I was getting soaked every time I had to walk up to buy some candles or kerosene. I was thinking maybe the cows that like to hang out in the field would take care of it, but I noticed that even with all that they were eating, they weren’t even making a dent. Then the students came back to school from the winter break and I was enlightened. Everyday before the students go home from school, the teachers send them out to a different section of the field with machetes and the students go to it. And that’s the way its done. Try to imagine that happening in America. Let’s just envision giving a bunch of 12 year old boys machetes…
Other things you may wonder about: like how do all these kids wake up on time to get to school without alarm clocks, or even watches for that matter. Well, spend one night at my house and you’ll wake up to the answer. Every morning at about 6AM someone goes up to clang on the big circular piece of metal that is the school bell for about 2 full minutes to wake up everyone in the village. Then there’s another bell about an hour later to let everyone know its time to start heading towards school. Then at 7:45 every morning, just in case you haven’t made it there yet, all of the students stand outside and sing Mungu Ibariki (the National Anthem) with drum accompaniments. So there you go, that’s how its done.
Sasa Unajua (Now you know.)

Pictures from Christmas, finally

Raindrops keep fallin on my head...

Hello again. Just over here in Africa freezing my arse off. Not exactly what you might expect, but true nonetheless. I was hanging out with some friends outside last night literally shivering. I’m a little worried about how cold it’s going to get here in July (the coldest month here South of the equator). They told me there is even going to be ice in my village. That should be interesting.
I must admit, I don’t have much productiveness to report on. We had a great meeting in the village and planned out several different committees and meeting dates and times, then school let out, and the holidays came, and I had to go to Iringa for two weeks for IST and it all kind of fell by the wayside. But I’ve determined that this week things are going to start happening. If I can only gather three people together to come to my English class, then I will just have to teach those three people. I can’t sit around doing nothing anymore. I want to start a health club at the primary school tomorrow. Then Tuesday I’m going to visit the secondary school when there is supposedly an NGO that comes to conduct a peer education group with the Form 3 students focusing on HIV/AIDS prevention and life skills. In the evening on Tuesday I’m going to see if I can revive my adult English class that has been forgotten amongst all the craziness of my recent travels. Friday I will hopefully have the health club again at the primary school, this time with the older students. Then in a couple of weeks we’re going to have our first nutrition/cooking class on the 28th, which I’m really excited about.
In not the not so good news category, my kitten died while I was at IST in Iringa. Apparently she ate something poisonous while she was playing outside the day before I left. :( Hopefully I can find a new one soon. RIP Penny Lane.
Other than that, just been busy battling the rain. I’ve just gotten used to taking off my glasses and pulling on my hood and just riding my bike through the rain. There’s no use is waiting for it to stop. It’s not going to. It rains all day everyday pretty much. The other day I went to visit my friend Teri in her village and we had quite an adventure getting up to her house from the main road where the daladala drops us off. It was raining and we didn’t feel like doing the 30 minute walk to her house in the rain, especially since I had just received 4 packages from the post office and was going to have to try to carry all of the soggy, falling apart boxes. So we noticed a tarp-covered truck loading up crates of soda bottles nearby and decided to ask for a ride up to Iyawaya, her village. They agreed so when all their cargo was loaded up, we tossed in all of our bags and boxes and hopped in. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Then we started moving. Not the smoothest ride in the world. There are loads of bumps and rocks and potholes in the road and I’m pretty sure we hit every one of them. I was jostled around a lot, but fortunate enough to be sitting on a relatively soft sisal bag. Teri on the other hand was sitting on a crate of glass bottles, which ended up being not so comfortable. There are two bridges that must be crossed to reach Iyawaya, both of which are immediately followed by a steep hill. We made it across the first hill, no problem, but the second one is steeper than the first and the driver was afraid that he wouldn’t make it up with all the cargo and extra passengers in the back. So we all climbed out and walked up the hill, waiting for the truck to meet us at the top. It made it about halfway before rolling all the way back to the bridge. It tried again, but it just wasn’t happening. So the driver decided he would just have the take the long way around and would meet us at the primary school with all of our stuff we had left on board.
So we walked in the rain the remaining distance up to Teri’s house and waited. And waited. And waited. At some point we start to get a little worried. We had all left some relatively important things on this truck, like my laptop for instance, so it was going to be a big problem if this truck just decided to pass on through without dropping off our things. So we started asking the other villagers if they had noticed a truck passing by the primary school. Eventually we discerned that the truck had gotten stuck in the mud a ways down the alternate safer road it decided to take. So off we went on a search party and eventually came across it, indeed rather stuck in the mud. We stood in the rain and waited for it to get unstuck but that just wasn’t happening. So I decided to wade across the river that was flowing on top of the bridge to get to the other side where the truck was in the process of being dug out. I had to search a bit through all of the cargo to find all of our stuff, but eventually we had passed it all out of the truck to various villagers on hand to help carry it all back to Teri’s and hopped out. Throughout this whole ordeal, I had managed to stay relatively clean, if not dry. No easy task as anyone who knows me can tell you that if there is anything to trip over, or any whole to step in, or any slick surface to slip on, its going to be me that does it. This being said, the soil in Iyawaya does not drain very well and creates a very thick and slippery layer of mud when it rains. I was about 15 feet from Teri’s house when I had to go down a very small hill, but I knew what was coming. I looked at it, and even said out loud to myself, “I’m about to bust my butt.” And immediately after muttering these words, down I slide through the mud. Nice. Fitting end to the adventure I think. But nevertheless, we made it, and cracked open those soggy boxes and enjoyed some lovely instant mashed potatoes and Chex mix.

Wow, its been a while

So much has been going on lately I don't even know where to start. I have had a fabulous last couple of months here in Tanzania. The holiday season went much better than expected. Not that I didn't still think of you all back home, but I had a good time with all of my new friends here too. Tanzania is beginning to feel more and more like home. I hate feeling rushed writing blogs at the internet cafe. I can't ever think of anything to say. Hard to believe seeing how I haven't updated this thing in about a month and a half, but I really don't feel like I have anything of interest to write right now. I just wanted to let you all know that I'm still alive and doing well. Thanks for checking up on me, and I promise I'll have some type of an update soon.

And There Won’t Be Snow in Africa This Christmastime….

Ok so, it’s Christmas, and I’m in Africa, I couldn’t resist a little “Feed the World Reference.” But it’s also true. I’m in Dar es Salaam right now and it is soooooooooo HOT! It’s like standing in line at Disney World in August all day and night minus the little tunnels of fans spraying a cooling mist on you. Its taking a cold shower that just won’t get cold enough and sweating again as soon as you touch the knob to turn off the water. So basically, its really hot. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let me back it up to Christmas.
Christmas in Mbeya. Oh glorious Mbeya where the weather is so much better. Love that place. We kicked off the festivities on Dec 23 when we had a NewbieBQ at our Canadian friend Deborah’s house in Mbeya Town. Get it? NewbieBQ? BBQ for the Newbies? Yeah, we thought we were pretty clever too. So we invited all of the new education volunteers that recently arrived in Mbeya region to come eat and drink and be merry, which was fun times. Then on Christmas Eve, Deb’s orphans came to her house and we ate all day long. Ridiculous amounts of ridiculously good food. I even provided some some Christmas tunes via my ipod and some borrowed speakers. Although I didn’t find a lot of the oldie goldies until after Christmas on my way to Dar, but nonetheless, we had Christmas music. That night we went stood outside and sung Christmas carols with the kids and then they sang some Swahili songs and we danced in a big circle together. We even decorated a Christmas tree together and had an AMAZING stuffed turkey.
On Christmas day, after the kids opened their presents, my plans changed about 4 times before noon, but I ended up going to my friend Teri’s village to celebrate with her there. I’m glad I did because what we experience there is best when shared. As soon as we got there we had pombe (aka corn moonshine) forced upon us by 70 year olds. We told them we were ok with our beers, but we had to take a sip or two just to make them happy. Its gross, I do not recommend it. So then as I was dragged off into a corner to dance with a Babu (grandfather), Teri got out her camera and ended up having to a do a photo shoot of several different people variously posed with their pombe. Some wanted their picture to be taken squatting down scooping the pombe from the bucket into their big plastic cups. Some preferred action shots with their faces completely covered by the cup as they chugged the milky looking alcohol. Either way, hilarity ensued. Eventually it got a little hot in this particular hut so we moved into the more chill pombe hut and talked with some villagers and tried to learn some more Kisafwa (the local tribal language in both of our villages.)
What’s missing from this Christmas? Well, there was no “A Christmas Story” 24-hour Marathon on TBS. There was no watching “A Muppet Christmas Carol” on VHS with my sister 45 times. There was no “Charlie Brown Christmas,” although Teri had a great king-size replica of his tree. There was no flying mess of meringue and chocolate chips from baking all night long. But it was a good Christmas in Africa’s own way.
I went back to my village just for a couple of days then abandoned the poor people again to come to Dar to celebrate New Year’s Eve. A lot of volunteers from my training class went to a beach resort called Kipepeo Village. Some people camped in tents and some slept in thatched hut bandas. The beach was beautiful, although the absurd amount of sea weed made swimming a bit tricky. On New Year’s Eve we walked down to the next resort called South Beach, and I must admit, it was very Miamiesque. It was a huge place with lots of lights and loud music and mostly fun dancing, minus these Indian boys with no shirts that looked like they were about 12 that kept trying to dance with us. That was a little awkward. But overall, good times.
So there you have it, my first African Christmas and New Year’s. I can’t believe I left Gainesville 7 months ago. Time is going by so much faster now. While I did have a good time here over the holidays, of course I thought of all of you back home. You know how it goes, Make new friends but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold. I’m not even going to apologize for the cheesiness. Hope everyone had a nice holiday wherever you celebrated it. Happy New Year!