This really doesn't have a place here, but
one more thing I've come to notice about myself here (in Tanzania as
a whole) is that I'm real good at ignoring people now. Selective
hearing has become somewhat of a skill of mine. Constantly getting
pestered on the streets hardens your shell. If one more Tanzanian calls
me mzungu (foreigner), friendi, sista, or, my personal favorite,
bestie; I would like to say that I would do something extreme... But,
tomorrow I bet I'll get at least 2 new besties and another sista on
the streets somewhere, so it's become something more that I have to
deal with.
Anywho, I left off saying that a good
friend was leaving for America. Well, about 2 weeks later, ANOTHER
good friend also left for medical reasons. Major sadness. Not only do
I still have 4 months left, but now I have to survive it minus 2 good
friends. Not easy people, not easy.
You adapt. You have to, or you'll never
make it here. That's my slogan. Among others, which I'm sure I'll get
to later. Other friends have magically appeared and have become close
to me, and, so, we are all in this together til the end.
After I shook Obama's hand (YEAH that's
right) I went back down to Mtwara town to hang out with a small group
for the 4th of July. I actually half-shook his left hand,
which in Tanzania is the hand/chosen finger(s) for finishing up their
business in the choo. Choo in Kiswahili means toilet. Pit latrine.
Bathroom. Poop. I was just hoping the good ole Pres would be able to
spring for some tp. If there's one thing us PCVs will never get tired
of is talking about our feces. Just this morning I gave probably TMI
to my friend Steph. Haha!
Anyway, to get back on topic, that has
got to be the most fun I have ever had in Mtwara at the beach house.
There were 7 of us for a while until enough days passed and then we
dwindled down to a tight-knit group of 4. While making dinner the
last night it felt like we were all roommates, it was a nice feeling.
We were wondering, why are we leaving the next day? Let's just say
money doesn't grow on trees people, and the beach house is a
delightful yet expensive retreat.
A girl in my class came to Mtwara for
the 4th. Who ever says no one visits Mtwara region is
WRONG! But, in all honesty, she is probably the only visitor we will
get to permeate our little family of isolated PCVs. She came to my
site for a few days to hang out before making the trek back to her
site (a 3-day ordeal). What a trooper!
After this, I began to become
accustomed to being alone once again. However, I did have the grant
to oversee. Before I left for the Obama meet-and-greet, I gave my
Mama (the Head Teacher) about 800,000 shillings (about $500) to begin
the construction of the pit latrines at the Primary School. I pretty
much let go of the reins and gave them to her. Which, could have gone
really badly. But, to my delight, she was a wonderful leader and when
I came back from seeing my friend off, they had made such great
progress on the pit latrines! This, my friends, is one of the few
projects I've implemented in my village that has gone according to
plan! I'd like to think a lot of it was my Mama, that woman is the
best. (Right after you American Mom!) I haven't closed the grant yet,
and there are still some receipts to be accounted for, but I'm not
worried. For once, I'm not worried about the outcome of a project.
Huh. Now, lets see what happens in the next few weeks...
Then (dun dun dun), I experienced some
medical issues of my own. Nothing major, or so I thought, until I was
forced to call the doctors due to the pain I was in. Here, I feel
like an old lady. It started with pain in my hip and migrated, due to
the wonderfully-difficult daily activities of living in a village, to
pain in my back. What a lovely combo.
I'm currently in Dar. Lovely,
pollution-ridden, filthy Dar. I've been here for oh, about 9 days
total; of my 2-and-change week doctor ordered rest, relaxation and
meds. I think for the first time in my life here as a PCV I've
successfully been able to wake up NOT pissed off from the screaming
elementary school children outside my window every morning! Go Dar!
All joking aside, I definitely needed
this rest period. To catch my breath, recuperate and heal. I've
gotten consistent phone calls of worry from my Mama, Baba, and two
good friends in my village. That might seem like a small amount of
people of support, but these few people are all I need and mean so
much to me.
While in Dar on “bed-rest” I've
successfully watched a shit ton of tv, downloaded a crapload of new
songs, and gotten some pretty bad diarrhea for a few days straight
from some very questionable street food. Perhaps now is not the time
to save money on cheap street food? Although I haven't put my time
here to good use yet(!), it has been really nice to have steady
electricity and somewhat nice internet access.
Along with that electricity and
somewhat nice internet access, I've been blessed with the opportunity
to chat with my twin sister. There are no words to mention how much I
look forward to those skype sessions. Talking with her, my best
friend, is helping me heal too. Thanks sis.
