WORK?! I'm a PCV, what's that? Jk, we really do work here.

So how about I fill you all in on what I’ve actually been WORKING on here in Tanzania for the last 9 months…

I helped start a Community Based Savings Group in my village. The organization Aga Khan, employs Field Officers who come right to my village; I just had to get the right people in touch with the right people. The purpose of this group is for all 25 members to each put in a fixed amount of money each week to the community pot. They can also put in an amount of their choosing to the loan pot. Then, they are able to take out loans for whatever they may need it for, business investments, hut repair, school fees, etc. They have 3 months to repay their loan, with the additional money from the small interest rate. This will enable the villagers to save their money in a safe place for emergencies. It is actually a great concept here in the village, and Aga Khan is a very respectable organization with diligent employees who thrive on timeliness and professionalism.

Each month, I help out with the baby weighing clinics at the Health Dispensary in my village. Sometimes I help the mamas put the cloth on the babies so they can put them on the scale hook, and sometimes I help fill out the cards measuring the progress of the baby and their weight. To my surprise, only a handful of babies were severely underweight or had lost weight as they’ve grown. I thought the number would be much higher. However, just because a majority of the babies are at a healthy weight doesn’t mean they’re healthy. Nutrition is a huge difficulty here. Even for me! Especially when their diets consist mostly of starches and sugar. In general, good nutrition is nonexistent.

One evening in June, Population Services International (PSI) came to my village. They are a mobile movie unit that come from Mtwara and travels to different villages to show educational films. They drive through the village inviting everyone to come to the FREE movies to be shown at the market area; then they take out their generator and set up a projector and screen. My sitemate’s village (who is gone now :/) and my village were combined because we live so close, so there were about 400 villagers there total. They showed one movie about protecting adolescents from early pregnancy, and one about the importance of being faithful. The villagers loved the movies! However, this is probably because only about a fourth of the people in my village have ever left my village, so the rest have never seen a movie on a big projector. And, also, it’s not everyday that a car arrives with a movie screen and generator for a night of education and entertainment.

There’s this girl in my village that is HIV+. Now, the stigmas that are attached to HIV/AIDS don’t allow many people to talk about such a topic openly. I was put in touch with her through an RPCV who she had once worked with. I agreed to meet with her and help in any way possible. She came over and we sat on my front porch talking. She was super shy at first so I was doing a lot of the talking. Eventually, I sorted out that she lives with her grandma who is also HIV+, her aunt, and her aunt’s daughter. I finally understood what she expected from me when she, in a vastly roundabout way, asked me for bus fare. Money. ALWAYS money. I felt awful, but I kept telling her that I literally can’t give her money; I don’t have a salary and, thus, can’t give her money. Besides, me giving her money wouldn’t do either of us any good. She’d still need money the next time she had to travel anywhere, and everyone in the village would be knocking on my door expecting me to give them money. I told her I’m here to be her friend, talk with her, and/or teach her health education. It took her a while to get up and go back home, empty-handed. And, it also took her a good 3 weeks before she decided that I wasn’t such a bad person, and it was worth it to allow me to teach her. So, we’ve had two sessions (puberty and menstruation), and she’s agreed to come every Monday evening. I’ll eventually teach a few sessions about HIV/AIDS, nutrition, and the importance of taking her medications, along with other health sessions. But, for now, I’m going to ease her into some basic health and hygiene information to try to keep her as healthy as possible. If all I do is teach this one girl about being healthy for the entire 2 years I’m here, I can give myself a pat on the back; because I will have helped educate one HIV+ young girl.

I helped to re-start a chicken group. The volunteer before me started it, but it fell apart when she left (which isn’t abnormal). So, I had a meeting with a few core members of the group and they decided to restart the meetings and move forward. To the best of my understanding (I’m still learning, I’m not an environment volunteer after all), the ultimate purpose of this chicken group is income generation. They will eventually be able to breed enough chickens, which they will be able to sell along with their eggs for profit. Right now, they are in the process of finishing the construction of the chicken coop. Each member puts in a certain amount of money each week to buy the materials to make cement and then they each take turns building a portion of the coop. Once they have a safe and secure place to house the chickens, each member contributes one healthy chicken, it is then my job to go to town with the mission of buying two high-quality roosters. Yes, I will be that annoying person with a few live roosters on the bus. Once they officially figure out a schedule of feeding them, taking care of them, and looking out for any difficulties; they will be able to sell the eggs. A schedule for the overall management of the chicken group and the chickens is necessary. Without this management the whole project could either fall apart or just one person may be stuck with all the work of caring for the chickens. Then, in the future, they will be able to sell the chickens, thus fulfilling the income-generating scheme.

I am also working on two different types of grants. The first is to organize a World AIDS Day village-wide testing day. World AIDS Day is on Dec. 1^st, and I’d like two HIV testers and one counselor to come from the hospital in town and perform confidential HIV testing to whoever will attend from my village. I’ve met and talked with the District AIDS Coordinator in town and am currently working on the budget. Now, I’m going to try to make it a semi-fun day, and hopefully they will be able to overlook the stigmas and enjoy themselves while becoming educated on one of the most important topics concerning health in Africa. I’m planning on having music and speakers to draw attention and invite people to the event. The testers will begin confidential testing in two separate classrooms whenever people start to arrive. I will pan on providing chai and lunch for the testers, driver, counterparts, and cooks (students will hopefully volunteer to cook). I will have a lot of educational opportunities available: condom demonstrations, nutrition, how to support PLWHA, stigma, the importance of testing, etc. I will have a Healthcare Professional teach a session on HIV/AIDS, and a PLWHA guest speaker. Hopefully everything will go according to plan, although, I’m expecting countless problems just because the life of a PCV pulling off a project without difficulty is unheard of.

The second grant I’m working on is a Maternal and Child Health grant. The Health Dispensary Committee in my village has expressed their desire for a new delivery bed, stethoscopes, blood pressure cuffs, and scales for babies and adults. Now, since this is pretty much just us writing the grant and them receiving medical equipment, I have decided to ensure I work in some promising teaching opportunities for myself as a measure of sustainability, monitoring, and evaluation. I’ve met with the District Medical Officer in town and went over costs for the equipment, and the fact that they will need to contribute 25% of the total cost of the grant. This is how we ensure the community has an interest in the grant and encourages community participation. It teaches them the importance of “owning” the project and assisting in any work that needs to be done throughout the project. I’m not expecting this particular grant to be finished and finalized until next year sometime; that’s how long one project here in Tanzania takes…

Anyway, there are other little things that I’m doing here, but these are the biggest projects that take up my time. I’m excited about everything I’m involved in, and am crossing my fingers the grants work out!

One-liners, purely for your enjoyment

More often than not, when you feel that crawling sensation on your skin, there’s something on you. Nothing’s more peaceful than writing letters by candlelight. 

When bored, staring at a wall really can give you something to do. 

Doing laundry gives me an excuse to clean under my fingernails. 

Kiswahili is becoming second nature. Finally. 

I don’t remember what a hot shower feels like, or a cold one; our cleanliness depends entirely on how initially clean the bucket is (for we take bucket baths). 

I sometimes warm myself next to a burning pile of garbage. 

I sweep dirt. 

My workdays are 24 hours long, yes even when I’m sleeping. 

I think I have more hand sanitizer than I’ll need if I were to stay here for 4 years (thank you, care packages). 

Sometimes, if I don’t leave my house and no one stops by, I can go hours without speaking a single word. 

I’m proud of how fast I can make it to the choo (bathroom) when I feel something explosive coming on.

I will never take a decent road bike and a paved road for granted ever again. 

My iPod is my lifesaver. 

Sometimes I belt out songs as if no one can hear me through my screen windows. 

I will never get used to being stared at 24/7, 365. 

Sometimes, just for fun, when it rains, I make a game out of plugging up my doors, windows and getting that basin under the leaks in my roof by timing myself. 

Traveling in Tanzania will never be easy, enjoyable, or tolerable.

My feet are always dirty. 

There are no words for the feeling of safety I get when I know my mama in the village is looking out for me.

The friendships we make here are necessary and lifelong. 

My back yearns for a mattress with springs, not a useless foam pad with a crater in the shape of my butt.

I miss my family.

I miss going to the gym. 

I miss driving.

The stars, sunrises, and sunsets are utterly breathtaking. 

The African night noises are sometimes disturbing; with a tin roof, everything is intensified and scarier.

If something falls off my walls, it takes me more than a week to put it back up. 

I will never get used to the layer of dust that covers everything. 

Never again will I feel bad about stepping on an ant on the sidewalk; the ants here are ruthless and move in unimaginable swarms.

The wind is strong, the sun is fierce, and the rain is relentless; there is nothing half-ass about the weather here.

I’d be lost without my little French press.

Cooking for one has always been difficult, but now I don’t have a fridge in which to put leftovers. 

And finally, I have never learned as much about myself – what I’m capable of, what I’m not capable of, and what I admit I need help with - than I have in these past ten months.

Completely un-work related ramblings…

For the sake of self-preservation, when I allow myself to use my computer battery at site, I’ve decided to only watch Grey’s Anatomy. There are mostly two reasons for this. 1) They hardly eat or drink, so I don’t have to stare longingly at burgers, pizza, or martinis. 2) They wear scrubs EVERY episode, so I don’t have to want their cute and fashionable clothes. My life consists mainly of fried breads, rice and beans, and the occasional French fries with an egg mixed in. Oh, and I have about 5 different shirts to choose from; talk about an extensive wardrobe! Thus, Grey’s Anatomy is my choice of entertainment…until I’ve re-watched all the seasons.

As far as cooking goes, I’ve officially mastered my best chicken chili ever. The whole process takes about 4 hours:

First is the tedious process of sorting the beans. This depends on the initial state of the beans; mostly, how many beans have had bugs burrow inside, and how many are salvageable. This takes as much time as you want to give it. However, if you’re hasty, it’s a little unnerving when you see bugs (dead of course) floating in your boiling bean water. I’m not even sure how much extra protein I’ve gotten because of this oversight…

Then comes the chore of lighting the charcoal. Sometimes it takes 5 minutes, sometimes longer. One specific time, I spent 50 minutes lighting and fanning, lighting and fanning; until I eventually just gave up and made pasta on my kerosene stove.

Next is the actual cooking of the beans. It’s not difficult, just tedious. You simply need to make sure there’s enough charcoal on the stove so it stays lit, and enough water so the beans don’t burn. Believe me, I’ve burned my fair share of beans, and it royally sucks. It’s like starting over from square one.

Once the beans are near finished, I start chopping and dicing. If I’m lucky and have just gotten back from town, I’ll have garlic, onions, tomatoes, and potatoes. Then, thanks to my Mom (shout out!) I’m able to add a packet of chicken! Of course it’s not chili without the chili powder, salt and pepper to taste. But, the key ingredient I’ve recently figured out, is tomato paste. Voila, chicken chili!

But, I’ve gotta say…there’s something peaceful and simple about putting on a pot of beans and reading a book while they cook.

I recently found another family I thoroughly enjoy spending time with. These seem like little feats, but when you live in a new village alone, you don’t get to hang out with a family everyday. Finding someone to sit and talk with means everything here. It’s a mama and her two children. The boy is one year old, and the girl is three years old. She came by my house one evening to say hi. People do this every now and again, but most of the time it doesn’t turn into anything. The initial trait that pulled me toward her was that she actually conversed with me. Some of the time when you’re sitting with a Tanzanian, you just sit. No talking, just sitting. There’s only so much small talk you can manage to conjure up, and there’s only so much you can communicate in a different language you’re not fluent in yet. This mama actually has things to talk about. And it’s not asking me about America, or what kinds of Tanzanian foods I can cook here. We talked for a good 3 hours about everything and anything. I learned a lot about her and her kids, and the hardships she has of living here. The cement of the holding tank next to her house where we catch rainwater has torn open, so there’s no water in it. The cement layer must have been ill-equipped so as a result, she’s left without water during the dry season (7 months). I asked where she gets water from, and she says she has to ask neighbors to spare water when they can. The Health Dispensary has a holding tank; apparently the doctor won’t give her water, but the nurse will. Yet, despite these hardships, her and her kids are still so happy. I watched as she gave her son a bath, and he was screaming and putting up quite a fuss. I mentioned that he clearly doesn’t like baths, and she just said he’s unfamiliar with them because he gets so few. After he a good layer of dirt came off him (only to be put back on in less than 30 minutes), they rejoined her daughter and I in the yard. All it took was one look from the girl, a smile and a laugh, and the boy was smiling and laughing right along with her. Such cute smiles. It was heartwarming. I’ve made it a point to go over there whenever I need some smiles and laughs to brighten my day J

Mama wa Tanzania

I’m blessed enough to have two loving mothers. One is in America (love you mom!), and one is my neighbor in Tanzania. Mama Kumbemba is one amazing woman. She is the Head Teacher at the Primary School, a mother of three, a leader figure in the village, and an incredible helping hand to me. She immediately made sure I was ok. The day I arrived in my village, she stood out to me. She made sure there was a sheet strung up on my bedroom window, made sure I had at least one bucket of water, and came over at night to see if I could feed myself. As far as the latter goes, my site mate biked over in the dark to give me some lovely chicken alfredo he had cooked. My first night I ate some pretty amazing food and talked to my sister, Laura J

My mama is strong-willed, determined, a hard worker and a kind soul. She never ceases to amaze me at how busy she is. She handles it well. And yet, she always has time for me. She takes the time to speak slowly, help me with words I don’t know and think through ideas with me. She even found time in her busy schedule to come with me to Morogoro as my Counterpart for a week-long training session.

So, even though I already have an amazing mom in the U.S., I’m grateful for my live-in mama for 2 years. She takes care of me. I don’t know where I’d be without her…

Make a decision!

You have about 5 seconds from the time you walk/push your way onto a dala (mini-bus) to pick the best possible seat. You have a few decisions to make. And fast. First of all, are there ANY seats available? Second of all, are there any openings near the front of the bus? Thirdly, is there a window seat? And lastly, if you have to sit in an aisle, which seat will you get the least butts, armpits, or arm flab in your face? The answers to these questions WILL determine the enjoyment of your entire ride. And, if you end up making a poor choice, it will possibly haunt you for a few days afterward; and, as they say to everything of varying degrees, pole (sorry)!

Money, money, money

The other day I walked back from town. I’ve gotten sick of waiting for the lorrie (open-topped truck) to be an hour late and packed to capacity, so I was looking forward to the hour and a half walk. Sure, I’d have to greet people along the way, but at least I had a destination and could keep walking. About 20 minutes into the walk, a guy already walking in the same direction asked me where I was going. I said the name of my village and he somehow decided he’d like to walk with me. Now, I wasn’t really in the mood to make Kiswahili small talk, and made it a point to slow down or speed up to try to lose him. If I stopped to pretend to rifle through my backpack, he’d shuffle along, clearly waiting for me; if I tried to pass him, he’d walk at a very un-Tanzanian fast pace to try to keep up with me. Needless to say, it was very frustrating. So, I’m about to turn down the path to my house and I say, “have a nice day” to be polite. He looks at me and says, “Where’s my money? I walked you here, and I’m tired.” I was stunned. I spent over an hour trying my hardest to lost this guy in transit, and he wants money?! I looked at him, and repeated three times each with more surprise and disgust, “You want money? You want money?! You want MONEY?!” I laughed, said a very sarcastic (which is lost on all Tanzanians), “Sorry mister,” and walked away.

The very next day, I went to the little market in my village. I was so excited to see bananas! I had just bought a few, and I hadnt even left the table and a guy comes up to me and asks me if he can have a banana. I thought, how rude. So, I, probably still annoyed from the day before, told him very politely that we were still at the table, so he could buy his own.

Also in the same day, I heard the name of the previous volunteer being shouted at me multiple times in a row. I stopped, turned around, and saw a mama coming toward me. I immediately recognized her as the mama that has, more often than not, usually been drinking. She didn’t even greet me and immediately patted her stomach and asked me for money for chai. This was the third time in two days that I’ve been tracked down and asked for money in my village. This, more likely than not, only happens in town. Now, first of all, I’ve told this mama my name at least five times, and she can’t even try to remember. Second of all, don’t scream my name across the whole village. And lastly, I don’t get a salary, you can’t have my bananas, and I can walk by myself!!!!!

Kama kawaida

For the past week, I’ve been helping my mama and her family husk the corn they’ve harvested. Since the rainy season is basically over, it’s time to start the harvesting process. The villagers mostly farm corn, and I’ll explain why. So, what they do is harvest the corn, and then get all the kernels off the husk one by one. Next they lay them out in the sun to dry. After this, they take them to a mill to get ground up into flour. The end product is thus, corn flour. This is the staple of their diet. Corn flour is what they mix water with to make ugali, a semi-hard blob they serve with either beans or cassava leaves. You should really google ugali, it’s good stuff (not). But, I’ve grown accustomed to eating ugali, because, that’s their diet. It’s really a pure process, the villages grow (or so is the plan depending on the rains during rainy season) all the food they need to sustain them throughout the dry season. Most if not all of the Tanzanians in my entire region have not and will never experience the chaos of what is a grocery store. It’s simple really, they have figured out how to grow exactly what they need to survive.

Apparently the next fruit in season is oranges. I have yet to see a plethora of oranges, but I’m hopeful. So, the major fruits of the seasons are: mango (Dec-Jan), orange (April-May), pineapple (July-August), then mango again. Bananas, and papayas are kind of always off and on throughout the year. I think it’ll be really cool when I experience mango season again, because that’ll mean I’ve been here for a year J

Hold your applause please, but I’ve been rat-free for 3 months! Knock on wood for me will ya?

Although the dry season doesn’t have much to offer, one blessing I can think of is that the sun is more reliable. Using my solar charger (thanks Jonathan!), the sun has now consistently charged my phone, iPod, and kindle. Thanks sun!

Things are steady but slow here in the village. I can see that getting things started will take some extra effort and persistence on my part. Yesterday, however, while I was doing my walk around the village to see if anything was happening, I stumbled upon a meeting. This meeting was being conducted by a Health Institute based in Mtwara. They are part of a group called “Mtunze mtoto mchanga” (caring for newborns). I was thrilled! This group of about 7 women and 4 men are all volunteers who were getting more training on going to house to house to assess the progress of newborns. The trainers got my contact information and I’m hoping to become more involved with their organization. Apparently they’re coming back in June and I’m definitely going.