I'm now connected to the internet from my house in the village!!! I bought a mobile modem last week and it has pretty much changed my life. I still don't have electricity, so don't expect me to be much more accessible, but from the time I get to town and charge my computer to the time the battery runs out, I am truly straddling two worlds. I read by candlelight, cook outside on a charcoal stove, and carry water (or rather, pay my neighbor's kid to carry water) from 2k away, yet I can keep updated on Natalie Portman's pregnancy and Lindsay Lohan's shenanigans if I so choose (which I don't). WEIRD.
So here are some updates...
First of all, I made it home safely from my in-service training in Morogoro and a week of rest and relaxation in Dar Es Salaam. Dar is a big city that has all sorts of exciting things, most notably in the part of town where diplomats and ex-pats live and shop, officially known as "the Peninsula" but (sometimes fondly, sometimes sarcastically) referred to as "America" by me and my friends. During my time in "America," I visited a few grocery stores. They are probably small by real American standards but they were scary nonetheless. I know you all think that the life I'm living out in the village is tough, but I'm more impressed at those of you that can stare at a wall of toothpaste and know which one you want. Keeping in mind that I live in a place where the nearest loaf of bread to buy is a 1 hr bus ride away, I'm sure you can understand why I caused some stares by the amount of time I spent gawking at the toothpaste selection.
I'm super pumped to be back in my village now. I've been gone waaaay too long. My counterpart (Mama Ashura) and I are geared up to start projects, though most of them will have to wait until after the planting season (April). Tomorrow, my neighbor is going to help me prepare to farm the plot of land I didn't realize I inherited along with my house. I'm also getting ready to begin two projects with the secondary school, both of which I'm really excited about. Starting mid-January, I'm going to be teaching Life Skills (aka how to not get HIV, pregnant, addicted to drugs, etc) to the Form 4s, mostly 17-19 year olds. I'm nervous about it, because I haven't had the best luck with teaching (zoom in on the preschoolers who, after two months of my tutelage, can sing the ABCs up to G, at which point it all goes to hell), but I seem to do better with older kids and the topics are sexy enough that they'll actually pay attention.
The second project has the eventual goal of getting a water tank and/or pump installed at the secondary school because right now the kids spend an ungodly amount of time fetching water rather than studying. Rather than just whipping off a grant for them, I've decided to take a painfully slow but hopefully more sustainable route. Along with the Headmistress, I'm in the process of selecting 5-10 top students to form a "water and development taskforce." Over the next semester, I'm going to teach them about grants, NGOs, aid, etc. I'm hoping to engage them in more than just project planning, but also to discuss sticky issues, like the sustainability of aid. The ultimately aim of the taskforce is for the students themselves to come up with a solution to the school's water problem. Whether they decide to fund raise in the community and build it themselves or write a grant, I'm going to do my best to support them while still granting them full ownership of the project, whether or not it succeeds.
That's the plan at least. But over the past 6 months I've learned that the only thing I can definitely count on is that nothing will happen as I expect.
Finally, I want to share with you all a funny situation I found myself in today. My neighbors, Mama and Baba Mdogo, just got home from a long journey that took them on a bus passing through a few of the national parks. I remember when my Dad and Amy got back from their safari last year I was kind of rude to them about their picture slide-show--saying it was dehumanizing for them to show off pictures of the Africans they passed on the bus the same way they show off pictures of animals. Keeping that in mind, here is what Baba Mdogo told me when I asked him what they saw on their journey: "So many animals! We saw giraffes and hippopotamus and zebras and elephants...and the wazungu [white people]! You wouldn't believe how many wazungu we saw!! They were wearing these funny hats and they all had cameras and they were speaking English so fast and some of them were speaking other languages, too. There were so many of them and they all looked so excited to see the animals. You should go to the national parks because you will have lots of wazungu friends there, Lauren!"
So there you have it, Dad. They think you're just as fascinating as you think they are.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Khanga v. Bucket: The Ultimate Standoff
Living without electricity or running water makes you appreciate things in a different way. Before I hopped on that Africa-bound plane, I had never seen, let alone wore, let alone mopped my floor with, a Khanga. Today I can safely say that I would be dead without it.
The khanga is just a thin piece of fabric. It is most frequently used as a wrap or headscarf. The internet here isn't fancy enough for me to upload a picture right now, but you should google it if you're confused.
My friend Sativa is convinced that the bucket has more uses than the khanga. Buckets are useful, don't get me wrong. You should definitely read her blog post about them (www.sativamarie.wordpress.com) and make up your own mind. But I feel, in the name of fairness, you deserve to hear the khanga's side of the story. Sativa says I'm copying her by writing this post. She is a bully. That is why I call her "Dada Mkubwa," which means "big sister," because big sisters are bullies. I think. I've never actually had one.
Anyway. The many uses of a khanga:
- The Classic (wrapping around your waist)
- Tablecloth
- Carpet
- Drapes
- Poster/general wall art
- Get your local tailor to make you a: dress, shirt, pants, skirt, hat, dira, headscarf, etc etc etc)
- Cape to wear to the Harry Potter movie in Dar Es Salaam ("I'm so not going with you to that," - Jen)
- Any/all articles of clothing for kids
- Grocery bag
- To cover up your luggage if you don't want people to see how fancy your bags are
- Menstrual pads (if anyone wants information on how to do this, attend your local Peace Corps girls conference)
- Oven mitts (but be careful, I've already burned holes in 3 khangas doing this...)
- Head wrap (all styles--the bigger the better)
- Apron (kinda synonymous with "the classic")
- Filter for water (but not a substitution for boiling!)
- Diaper (if you believe in that kind of thing, most Mamas just let the kiddos run free)
- Blanket and/or sheets
- Bathing suit cover
- "Farm clothes"
- Prayer rug (I'm actually not sure this would be allowed--I'll ask a Mama and let you know)
- Yoga mat
- Covering up your tanktop when you can't stand the heat
- Really cheap sunscreen
- Hijab
- Sending subliminal messages (each khanga has a saying on the bottom in Swahili, usually it's things like "God's word is the final word" but sometimes it's more sassy and less religious.)
- Face mask when the dust and/or body odor takes over your nasal passages
- Make-shift curtain when you have to chimba dawa* on a bus ride
- "Mattress mambo" (if you have to ask, you're too young to know)
- Travel pillow
- Door mat
- Umbrella
- Required uniform for any village funeral or wedding
- Fanny pack (Sativa's favorite)
- To strap a child to your back (he ain't going nowhere)
- To shield yourself when breastfeed--though open-air is the preference in my village
- Jifunga-ing** when you're wearing scandalous things like jeans or a knee-length skirt
- When it gets old, it becomes a rag/mop/etc
- Automatic hand-dryer (minus the automatic)
- Bathing suit (or so I hear, this sounds kind of impractical)
- If you're in a really hard spot, toilet paper
- Gauze and pretty much any other medical supply
I'll keep adding if I think of more things... let me know if you come up with any I haven't thought of!
* "Chimba dawa" is literally "dig for medicine," but it's a euphemism for pissing on the side of the road
** "Jifunga" literally means "close yourself"
- Campaign
The khanga is just a thin piece of fabric. It is most frequently used as a wrap or headscarf. The internet here isn't fancy enough for me to upload a picture right now, but you should google it if you're confused.
My friend Sativa is convinced that the bucket has more uses than the khanga. Buckets are useful, don't get me wrong. You should definitely read her blog post about them (www.sativamarie.wordpress.com) and make up your own mind. But I feel, in the name of fairness, you deserve to hear the khanga's side of the story. Sativa says I'm copying her by writing this post. She is a bully. That is why I call her "Dada Mkubwa," which means "big sister," because big sisters are bullies. I think. I've never actually had one.
Anyway. The many uses of a khanga:
- The Classic (wrapping around your waist)
- Tablecloth
- Carpet
- Drapes
- Poster/general wall art
- Get your local tailor to make you a: dress, shirt, pants, skirt, hat, dira, headscarf, etc etc etc)
- Cape to wear to the Harry Potter movie in Dar Es Salaam ("I'm so not going with you to that," - Jen)
- Any/all articles of clothing for kids
- Grocery bag
- To cover up your luggage if you don't want people to see how fancy your bags are
- Menstrual pads (if anyone wants information on how to do this, attend your local Peace Corps girls conference)
- Oven mitts (but be careful, I've already burned holes in 3 khangas doing this...)
- Head wrap (all styles--the bigger the better)
- Apron (kinda synonymous with "the classic")
- Filter for water (but not a substitution for boiling!)
- Diaper (if you believe in that kind of thing, most Mamas just let the kiddos run free)
- Blanket and/or sheets
- Bathing suit cover
- "Farm clothes"
- Prayer rug (I'm actually not sure this would be allowed--I'll ask a Mama and let you know)
- Yoga mat
- Covering up your tanktop when you can't stand the heat
- Really cheap sunscreen
- Hijab
- Sending subliminal messages (each khanga has a saying on the bottom in Swahili, usually it's things like "God's word is the final word" but sometimes it's more sassy and less religious.)
- Face mask when the dust and/or body odor takes over your nasal passages
- Make-shift curtain when you have to chimba dawa* on a bus ride
- "Mattress mambo" (if you have to ask, you're too young to know)
- Travel pillow
- Door mat
- Umbrella
- Required uniform for any village funeral or wedding
- Fanny pack (Sativa's favorite)
- To strap a child to your back (he ain't going nowhere)
- To shield yourself when breastfeed--though open-air is the preference in my village
- Jifunga-ing** when you're wearing scandalous things like jeans or a knee-length skirt
- When it gets old, it becomes a rag/mop/etc
- Automatic hand-dryer (minus the automatic)
- Bathing suit (or so I hear, this sounds kind of impractical)
- If you're in a really hard spot, toilet paper
- Gauze and pretty much any other medical supply
I'll keep adding if I think of more things... let me know if you come up with any I haven't thought of!
* "Chimba dawa" is literally "dig for medicine," but it's a euphemism for pissing on the side of the road
** "Jifunga" literally means "close yourself"
- Campaign
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
TZ Twins
I’m in Morogoro right now at in-service training (IST), which is kinda like Camp Peace Corps Part 2. After spending the past three and a half months alone in our villages, all 39 members of my training class are back together for training and to share our site experiences. The first day we all drew creative, artistic, or graphical interpretations of our experience over the past six months. I drew a color coded line graph that depicted my happiness, feeling of success, and integration. Apparently I'm a little left brained. The lines were all over the place, and also tended to be pretty aligned with one another--I can't integrate if I'm not happy, I don't feel happy when I don't feel successful, etc.
Some of the more creative volunteers drew pictures. Katie, who spent a lot of time traveling due to medical and administrative issues, drew a map of Tanzania and outlined her emotions on each of her many bus rides. My friend Justin titled his y-axis "craving for taco bell." One girl just balled up her paper and taped it to the wall. And we all knew what she meant by that, because we've all felt that way too at some point or another. It was comforting to realize that we're all going through this crazy experience together.
Last night, our “counterparts,“ people from our villages that we’ve chosen to be partners and advisors over the next two years, arrived. This next week seems likely to be a sort of “worlds collide” type experience.
The first activity we did was for each PCV to introduce their counterpart and then be introduced by her or him. It was immediately evident that we have all chosen what can only be described as our Tanzanian clones. Quiet people choose quiet people, class clown types used their introductions as an opportunity for a duet standup act, the academic types tended to choose students or teachers, and a girl I’ve always described as an “old soul” chose an adorable and sprightly 70-year-old man.
I’m no exception. My counterpart, Mama Ashura, was the first woman in the group to talk (in this culture, women are usually pretty quiet in groups when men are present). Like me, she has a tendency to dominate conversations, always has an opinion, and frequently raised her hand when a question was asked, eager to show off that she had an answer and unafraid to give a wrong one. We did a group activity that involved writing on big poster papers and I looked over from my group and saw that she, like me, had taken on the role of scribe. And anyone who’s been in a class with me also knows that I have a nasty habit of chit-chatting to my neighbors during lectures. Mama Ashura was constantly leaning over to whisper things to me, give her opinions, giggle over inside jokes, or ask me for translations when the speaker lapsed into English.
Creepy, right?
During the session today, our counterparts had an opportunity to list some of the myths they have heard in the villages about Peace Corps. Among the highlights (and lowlights) were:
- We are CIA spies (the classic)
- We are photographers intending to take pictures of Tanzanians to either sell in America for large sums of money or to share with our friends back home so we can laugh at how poor people are here (if you laugh at the pictures I post online, unless they are of people being funny, I will be very angry at you)
- Our parents lived in Tanzania many years ago and we have come to retrieve the things they left behind (this weird myth exists in my village, apparently--Mom, Dad, anything you need to tell me?)
- We are here on a bioterror/business venture in which we will spread strange diseases, and later return with an expensive cure (this terrifying rumor was also a Mama Ashura contribution)
Most of today was spent clarifying what Peace Corps is and what it isn’t. For the record, none of that is true.
After this training, I'm heading to Dar Es Salaam (the capital) for a few days to do some administrative stuff, shopping, and most importantly to see the new Harry Potter movie!!! I'm taking a slightly longer route back to my village (the shortest possible route would be 2 days anyway) because apparently the rains have started so once I'm there, I'll be stranded in a muddy mess of roadlessness for a good long time. Hopefully I'll be able to be in touch somewhat, but if I seem to have gone quiet for a few months, that'll be why. (And now I can't get "I bless the rains down in Africa" out of my head. Awesome.)
Some of the more creative volunteers drew pictures. Katie, who spent a lot of time traveling due to medical and administrative issues, drew a map of Tanzania and outlined her emotions on each of her many bus rides. My friend Justin titled his y-axis "craving for taco bell." One girl just balled up her paper and taped it to the wall. And we all knew what she meant by that, because we've all felt that way too at some point or another. It was comforting to realize that we're all going through this crazy experience together.
Last night, our “counterparts,“ people from our villages that we’ve chosen to be partners and advisors over the next two years, arrived. This next week seems likely to be a sort of “worlds collide” type experience.
The first activity we did was for each PCV to introduce their counterpart and then be introduced by her or him. It was immediately evident that we have all chosen what can only be described as our Tanzanian clones. Quiet people choose quiet people, class clown types used their introductions as an opportunity for a duet standup act, the academic types tended to choose students or teachers, and a girl I’ve always described as an “old soul” chose an adorable and sprightly 70-year-old man.
I’m no exception. My counterpart, Mama Ashura, was the first woman in the group to talk (in this culture, women are usually pretty quiet in groups when men are present). Like me, she has a tendency to dominate conversations, always has an opinion, and frequently raised her hand when a question was asked, eager to show off that she had an answer and unafraid to give a wrong one. We did a group activity that involved writing on big poster papers and I looked over from my group and saw that she, like me, had taken on the role of scribe. And anyone who’s been in a class with me also knows that I have a nasty habit of chit-chatting to my neighbors during lectures. Mama Ashura was constantly leaning over to whisper things to me, give her opinions, giggle over inside jokes, or ask me for translations when the speaker lapsed into English.
Creepy, right?
During the session today, our counterparts had an opportunity to list some of the myths they have heard in the villages about Peace Corps. Among the highlights (and lowlights) were:
- We are CIA spies (the classic)
- We are photographers intending to take pictures of Tanzanians to either sell in America for large sums of money or to share with our friends back home so we can laugh at how poor people are here (if you laugh at the pictures I post online, unless they are of people being funny, I will be very angry at you)
- Our parents lived in Tanzania many years ago and we have come to retrieve the things they left behind (this weird myth exists in my village, apparently--Mom, Dad, anything you need to tell me?)
- We are here on a bioterror/business venture in which we will spread strange diseases, and later return with an expensive cure (this terrifying rumor was also a Mama Ashura contribution)
Most of today was spent clarifying what Peace Corps is and what it isn’t. For the record, none of that is true.
After this training, I'm heading to Dar Es Salaam (the capital) for a few days to do some administrative stuff, shopping, and most importantly to see the new Harry Potter movie!!! I'm taking a slightly longer route back to my village (the shortest possible route would be 2 days anyway) because apparently the rains have started so once I'm there, I'll be stranded in a muddy mess of roadlessness for a good long time. Hopefully I'll be able to be in touch somewhat, but if I seem to have gone quiet for a few months, that'll be why. (And now I can't get "I bless the rains down in Africa" out of my head. Awesome.)
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