I love the palm tree outside my window

I appreciate the way the children interact with one another here. They take care of each other. Every time I look around I see an older child holding a younger child, comforting them. It’s refreshing to know that children can be so attentive when they themselves aren’t quite old enough to care for themselves completely.

Every day I’ll hear this slow scraping of a living creature moving on my roof. It’ll traverse the length of my roof up near the peak where there’s a tiny opening. I’ve seen it poke it’s little head in, but I’ve never quite been able to make out what it was. I decided one day to throw a marker at it and figure it out once and for all. In my head I was saying, “please be a lizard, please be a lizard”, afraid that a rat would free fall from my roof. Fortunately, it was a huge-ass lizard.  I mean this guy was big. I’d make all that noise if I were his size too. So, now I know whenever I hear him it’s a lizard, not a rat.

I’ve actually had a rat-free streak for the last couple weeks. Or at least none that I know of. I’ve been better at plugging up the cracks of my doors at night, as to deter them from entering. The malaria pills have been giving me insomnia lately, and I think sometimes makes me hear things at night, so I’ve been paranoid. But to no avail when I get up in the morning, take a look around, and only see lizard poop.

The other morning I helped weigh babies at the Zahanati (Health Dispensary). It was amazing. They always cry when they’re put up on the hook and their mama lets go. I’d cry too if I was just hanging there, all eyes on me. To my astonishment, most of the babies/children were in the green zone. There were maybe 10 of the 45 total that had either lost weight, or had never made it up to the green zone. These are the mamas I’d like to work with.

Speaking of work, I’ve been making progress on the Village Situational Analysis (VSA). It’s a comprehensive assessment we have to complete within the first three months of being at site (so, by Mid-March). We’ve had to set up village meetings, village leaders meetings, family interviews, school interviews, health dispensary interviews, and interviews with the youth. I’ve got a few more interviews to do, and then I’ve just got to type it up. Which is easier said than done with no electricity. Looks like I’m back to middle school when we’d have to hand write everything before we got our allotted computer time.

Ok, I think this guesti might kick us out soon. When’s the latest you can stay before they expect you to pay for another night? I think 1pm might be pushing it…

Rambling ramble

My apologies for the length of time that has passed since I’ve last written. However, expect this to be the norm. Internet opportunities and chances for electricity are, sadly, few and far between.

First of all, I’m grateful for being relatively close to two other current PCV’s. My closest “site mate” (which means closest volunteer in the nearest village” is a 20 minute walk from my house. The other close volunteer is another hour walk. It’s just nice to know if I need anything or if something goes wrong (knock on wood), they’re close enough to me to come over and help. However, I’m trying not to think about the future; for they are finished here in Tanzania in July, and the next round of newbies (I won’t be a newbie anymore!) won’t arrive until probably December. By then, though, I will hopefully be all settled in and will have projects underway. Maybe I’ll try to plan some traveling trips during those lonely 5 months.

I’m not sure if I’ve written about this, but the Primary School has been in session for about a month now. Since I live so close to the school, it never fails that I routinely get woken up at 6:30am every morning to the sound of their muffled conversations as they sweep dirt. Sweeping dirt should be a whole separate blog post, haha. It’s difficult to sleep much past then anyway, life in Africa starts even before the sun rises.

To my dismay, mango season is now over. As depressing as this is, I have orange season to look forward to in July and August. Apparently bananas and pineapples are always in season, however, it is a chore to track them down. On a lighter note, I found a cucumber in the market last weekend! Score! The PC Medical Officers would scold me, because I didn’t peel and boil the bacteria (and taste) off of it before consuming. I’m sorry doc, that’ll ruin the cucumber; I’ll take my chances with diarrhea, thank you.

Since lizards like to live in my house and climb my walls, they also like to poop on my floors too. Now, I don’t mind the lizards, they probably eat bugs and spiders that I don’t have to kill myself. It’s deciphering between the lizard poop and rat poop that has proven difficult. However, I figured it out (please don’t ask me how). In case you’d like to know, lizard poop has a white tip at the end of it. Rat poop doesn’t. This comforts me when all I see in the morning is white-tipped poop, this means the rats have stayed away yet one more night.

The rat killing stories I’m hearing from my site mate are horrifying and I hope to never have to use a hockey slap shot move to kill a rat, although I’m sure it’s only a matter of time. His tips will be useful though, to this I have no doubt. Don’t worry, you can look forward to a very disgusting and descriptive post at that time.

I’m traveling to Mtwara on the coast this weekend. Despite what you may think, this is not considered a “city”. From what I hear it’s more like a glorified town. However, there will be internet access there, so you can expect another post about how awesome the Indian Ocean is in the next few days.

Hope everyone’s doing well! Keep in touch. Cheers!

The Woes of Transportation

I realize I never explained why traveling and transportation is incredibly cumbersome. Let me begin by explaining the bus ride from Dar es Salaam to Masasi on the coast in the South. In the dry season, it’s supposed to take 9 hours. In the rainy season, expect it to take as long as 12 hours. Since it’s rainy season from Dec. – March, it took us 15 hours, give or take a flat tire. Peace Corps took the liberty of booking us the entire back row of the bus. I don’t care if you’re on the newly paved roads of America, everyone knows the back row is ALWAYS the bumpiest. This bus was special. The 6 seats were separated into two groups of three by a huge crack that was somewhat uneven. My seat was really half a seat, and my fellow PCV’s seat wasn’t actually a seat at all. Every bump we’d go over her seat would detach from the seatback, she’d have to stand up and push it back on. The normal 9 hour ride is on half paved, half unpaved roads. I think we were somewhere in the middle of the unpaved road and our bus got stuck in the mud. People were made to exit the bus into about a half calf-full of mud. I chose to take the window route and jumped onto the grassy bank nearby. It only took an hour and a half to get the bus moving again. I pitied the men who had to literally dig the bus out of the mud. That did NOT look fun. We then had a flat tire, which was only a half hour wait, quite fast I might add.

Then came the weigh station. Mind you, there were four of us with luggage which consisted of everything we brought for our entire 2 years here. Along with the sacks of who knows what was packed onto the bus, we were extremely overweight. I happened to glance down and saw them unloading some of our luggage. They put a few pieces back in through the windows in the middle of the bus, I suppose to balance the weight. I noticed one of my pieces and a fellow PCV’s bag didn’t get put back on the bus, and we drove away to get weighed again. We passed that time, and then turned the opposite way of where we’d left our bags. Now, getting mad or freaking out doesn’t get you anywhere here. We stopped at a nearby gas station to pick up some of the people we dropped off before the weigh station, and waited there for a time. Luckily I glanced out the window and saw them loading our luggage back onto the bus. Sneaky.

After the weigh station, we had a little over two and a half hours to go. It was dark, and there were half-in-the-bag PCV’s waiting to greet us upon our arrival. We just wanted to get off that dang bus.

I’m not complaining, because it really was sort of funny how long it took us to travel to our sites as compared to other PCV’s in our class. And, it wasn’t all madness and frustrations; we eventually made the bus ride into a sort of twisted roller coaster ride. Anything to get a little laugh out of the situation. Since we’d get air on most the big bumps, we’d raise our hands up and pretend we were riding Raging Bull or good ole’ rickety Viper.

Daladala rides are a whole different kind of fun. The saying really is true that the bus (or in this case, glorified minibus) really doesn’t leave until it’s full. In which case it then travels 50 feet and picks up another 17 people which could have made the dala full in the first place if they’d gone the extra mile to walk to the standi. Let’s see, I’ve been here a little over three months now, and I don’t think I’ve had so many butts, boobs, armpits, faces, or chickens in my face as I have in my entire life. Personal space is lost on Tanzanians. Again, getting frustrated will get you nowhere. Looking out the window (if you’re lucky to get a seat, not to mention a window seat) has proven the best thing to do in these situations.

I’m sure I will become somewhat used to dalas and bus rides, it’s only a matter of time.

Nonetheless, if I have a choice (which is rare), I’m very careful about my seat selection.

Greetings, A Visit to the Zahanati, African Randomness

Here in Tanzania, greetings are essential. There are on average about 20 different ways to say “hey, how are you?” in Kiswahili; you never know which one they’re gonna throw at you next. Now, in America you’re allowed to let the person (depending on how well you know them, or care to tell them) know if you’ve had the shittiest day of your life. Here, all of the possible answers are a variation of “I’m good.” There’s even a “I’m peaceful” answer. Apparently in Tanzania, you’re not allowed to experience a semi-bad day. Which is a blessing and a curse. The other day I biked to and from town. Now mind you it’s the rainy season and none of the roads in my Region are paved, so as I was going up those hills and getting greeted left and right, my answer was always “I’m good!” Which, after a while, I had to laugh to myself because I actually thought about what I was saying, and as much as I didn’t feel good, I started to make myself believe that I was, in fact, “good”. So much of the time I feel like I’m giving a robotic answer, but I actually had to stop and think about what I was saying and it made me laugh, which in turn made the hills seem somehow less steep and less muddy J

Also, here in Tanzania, giving respect to your elders is a must. There’s a word, “Shikamoo”, response “Marahaba.” I say it to anyone I think who looks older than me, and children say it to me. Sometimes it’s hard to tell, but when you’ve got a baby strapped to your back and one on your hip, I don’t care if you’re 16, I’m going to Shikamoo you. They laugh if I’m wrong. Anyway, it’s an amazing feeling when you’re walking by an elder and you Shikamoo them. Maybe they’re not expecting you to know Kiswahili; they’re especially not expecting you to know the need to Shikamoo. I love it when their eyes light up, they smile with a grin full of teeth (sometimes not, ha), and give a polite “Marahaba.”

Today I went to the Zahanati (Health Dispensary). A Clinical Officer works there, equivalent to our RN’s in the states. She gave me a tour, which consists of a waiting room, an examination room, a delivery table (!), a recovery bed, and a fridge running on solar power which holds vaccines of all sorts. I also found out the villagers are able to get tested for HIV, which is valuable knowledge for my future work. My level of excitement sky-rocketed when I saw that rustic, semi-stained delivery table. I thought back to my time in NY, when I was shadowing a CNM and had the pleasure of assisting with a delivery. I believe this is the exact right place for me to make a difference. Thing is, everything here takes time. Patience really is a virtue.

Let me tell you, cooking in Africa is no small feat. First of all, it’s a gamble as to what’s available in the village. It’s another gamble as to what’s available if you make the trek into town. Luckily it’s mango season, so those are plentiful. However, it turns out if you don’t own a farm and harvest all the food you eat, finding nutritious food is difficult! I’m afraid I’m in the wrong profession. Nonetheless, once you do find food to cook, preparation and cooking takes about on average 2-3 hours depending on how intricate you desire to be. You know the saying (now forgive me if this is somewhat off, because every time I think of it in my head it doesn’t sound quite right), but… “A watched teapot never boils”, well, take it from me, it might take 40 minutes, but it WILL boil damn it!

And anther thing, I will never again complain about turning the knob on an electric stove, or washing each dirty dish separately in a sink under running water ever again. And you can quote me on that.

Random tid-bit from today. Snakes are nothing to be shrugged off. I got water for the first time from my well today (one reason to welcome the rainy season), and saw a snake swimming around. Call me naïve, bit I really didn’t think anything of it at the time, just made sure it didn’t swim into my bucket without my knowing. One of the teachers happened to be walking by and I mentioned it to him. About 20 minutes later he, an army of teachers, and what seemed like half the villagers came by to fish the snake out of my well. I’d come by for the show too, wouldn’t you? Don’t ask me how, but they managed to get it into the bucket with nothing more than a flashlight and long stick. Once inside, everyone stepped back save the guinea pig who got the lucky job of taking the bucket into the road, tipping it over and killing it. I repeat, Snakes are (I guess) nothing to be shrugged off. And here I was just going to watch him swim around for a while.

Ok, I’m patiently waiting under my mosquito net for the sound of the pitter-patter of rats in my house. Maybe they won’t show up tonight. Wishful thinking, I’m sure. Oh the joys of living in Africa J

Just about a month at site.

You may all have been wondering where I’ve been for the past month. I literally got dropped off at the front door to my new house and was told to figure out how to live here. I laugh because the first time in my life I live alone is in a village in rural Tanzania. Go big or go home, I always say.

I love my house and village. I live near the Primary School and a majority of my neighbors are teachers. I’ve grown fond of one family in particular. The mama is the Head Teacher and she checks in on me every now and again to make sure I’m eating and taking care of myself. I think I will choose her as my Counterpart. A counterpart is someone in the village I can identify as someone who will eventually help me with my work here over the course of two years.

There is a soccer field attached to the Primary School yard. It’s incredibly fun playing with little African children. I can check that off my bucket list too! It’s like this site was made for me :)

My house has a big living room with three windows (windows are like gold here when you’re living without electricity). I have another room I’m not entirely sure what to do with, my bedroom, and a room I’ll make my kitchen. I have a cement courtyard, a choo (pit latrine), shower room (no more showering in my choo at homestay!), storage room, and a little room I use my charcoal jiko (kind of like a camping stove) in.

I’ve seen my fair share of rats as well. I was awakened at 1:30am one night to the sound of rustling. I’m proud of myself for getting out of bed and dealing with the situation. Now, lizards love my house, and as I figured out where the noise was coming from I thought to myself “maybe it’s a lizard, hopefully it’s a lizard.” No such luck. My flashlight eventually shone on the rats’ beady little eyes and nose. Ugh. I rigged up a cover and carried him and the bucket outside. I tipped the bucket over and whacked the bottom until he flew out and ran away. As I was going back inside I thought I heard something else, but let denial kick in and went back to bed.

Cooking is proving difficult. It’s hard to get fruit and vegetables when you don’t own a farm here. Going to town is sort of a chore, but the current PCV’s here all tell me it’ll become second nature and you eventually become numb to the experience. More stories on traveling and transportation to come.

But, I will never complain about cooking on an electric or gas stove OR washing another dish by hand in the sink EVER again!

Now here in Tanzania, greetings are an important part of life. Even if you’ve walked by their house 4 times that day, each time you go through a few of the many possible greetings. I went for a run the other week and when I exercise I tend to want to be alone. I stumbled upon this road. Now, when you live without running water, electricity, or another English speaking human being close by, it’s the little things in life that you appreciate. This road is quite desolate save for a few houses in the beginning and end. I think I will wear this road out by the end of my service here!

I continue to study and learn Kiswahili daily. Some days are better than others. It’s difficult not to learn something new when you are forced to speak Kiswahili every second of every day as soon as you leave your house. It’s proving quite helpful in learning the language though!

I will hopefully be able to update this more often, for those of you who actually read this. I’m sorry it’s been so long!

You all take care and give the U.S. a hug and kiss for me. Chao from Tanzania!

Less than 24 hours

In less than 24 hours I will become an official Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV). For as long as I can remember, becoming an official PCV seemed like such a task, a lot of work; but, I've finished my training, and am finally getting sworn in. Tomorrow (Wednesday December 14th, 2011), I will have jumped a small hurdle of my dream.

Training was intense. Difficult at times, but rewarding all the same. I am now a proud Intermediate-High speaker of Kiswahili, and, if I can toot my own horn for a minute, passed my final written Language Exam with flying colors :) Homestay was definitely an experience. I didn't realize how attached I had become to my mama and sisters until I had to say goodbye to them... She warmed up my bucket bath shower for me every morning, made me chai and breakfast each morning, and helped show me how Tanzanian's wash clothes correctly. There is definitely an art to washing that red dirt out of each article of clothing. She taught me how to cook, clean a Tanzanian house, and corrected my Kiswahili when I would screw it up. I appreciated my Mama Zubeda, along with my sisters, and wouldn't be here without their help and patience.

Thursday all 41 of us Volunteers will leave for our respective sites. Due to confidentiality, I can only share that I will be in Mtwara region, in what current PCV's call "the dirty south". I can only imagine it got it's name because it's a sauna down there on the coast, but I can't complain, because my fingers could use a break from the cold Wisco winters for 2 years. I am going to be living near the Makonde Tribe, which is one of Tanzania's largest ethnic tribes, they migrated from Mozambique. Apparently from my site, I can see into the Ruvuma River Valley, and into Mozambique. I will share more when I actually arrive on Friday!

Ok, I've got emails to write! Everyone take care, I'm loving it here :)

Visit to Tanga

So, this is my first time to the Indian Ocean! I didn't spend much time there yet, bc I wanted to update all ya'll first. I will venture down there in a bit. So far Pre-service Training (PST) has been intense, just like everyone had warned us. But, intense doesn't mean bad, it just means we're busy. Which for those of you who know me, I love being busy. So, this is great! Turns out learning Kiswahili isn't as difficult as I thought it was going to be, however, we have our first oral exam in a few weeks and I hope I'm saying the same thing.

Life in Tanzania is definitely different, especially living with a homestay family. I live in the village of Kibaoni Chemka with my mama, 11 year old little sister and 25 year old sister. The 25 year old is so great and helpful! She's just living with us for a bit, bc she lives in Dar es Salaam, but I hope she doesn't leave for a while yet, bc she's helped me to understand much of the language and culture. The Tanzanian's sure do love their greetings! Everywhere you go someone WILL talk to you. Which was hard to get used to for an American who's used to keeping to herself, but now it's second nature. Everyone wants to know how you woke up, how you slept, how are you this morning, how is your home? It's just a polite way of saying hi.

It hits me every other day or so that I'm actually here, living the life of a Peace Corps Trainee. I think to myself, "I'm FINALLY in Africa!" It's a wonderful feeling. Especially when I'm walking to class and can see the Umsambara Mountains in the distance. Or when I come home and am able to communicate with minimal language with my mama and sisters. It really is a fantastic feeling.

I'm not doing a very good job of updating you on the things I've been doing, but I have limited time here at the internet cafe. Our group of trainees is going to Pangani for a semi-vacation the Peace Corps allows us to go on so we stay somewhat sane :) They apparently have American food, kayaking, wireless internet, AND it's on the Indian Ocean. Can't complain much about that! So, hopefully I will be able to write again next weekend. Everyone take care!