Good Day Sunshine

Well, the seasons are changing, the mangoes are ripe for the picking, villagers are preparing their farms for planting, and it is hotter than Hell in the village of Nanjota these days. Most of the day I just try to find shade and keep myself from sweating uncontrollably. I am glad that there aren't any thermometers to tell me how hot it really is. The mangoes are ripe now and everywhere I go in the village, if a mango falls from a tree, the moment it hits the dirt and you hear the thud of the mango, swarms of children come running out of nowhere fighting for the ripe mango. Mangoes are pretty much the only fruit that's available in the village. Luckily I am a huge fan, and I could eat mangoes all day. I'm so happy they're ready!
This week there was a soccer game at the field in front of my house. The secondary school students played. It was the boys from Form 1 versus Form 3. Meanwhile the girls and I played volleyball nearby without the net.
The Country Director came to visit the village this week and talk about progress. She said that my house looked like something out of Hansel and Gretel and she was very impressed with the chai that I had cooked for her. She was very nice and helpful with answering questions about future work and making sure that I was doing well. She gave me some magazines to hand out to the kids later, which almost turned into a riot at my front door when I ran out of them and there were still many kids who hadn't gotten one.
The next day, I was sitting outside the front of my friend Mama Tupatupa's house with her as we shelled some cashews that we had just roasted. Sidenote: There was one day when I roasted cashews and shelled them and ate them on four separate occasions with four different families. I can't leave my house without someone feeding me cashews, or asking me to help them roast cashews, or go with them to their farm to harvest cashews. All I ate was cashews that day, and it was enough. Cashews have become a major part of my diet. Luckily I like them. Anyhoo, back to the story...Mama Tupatupa's brother wanders over to say hello, and begins to tell me that he would like to have an American wife, so I needed to keep my eyes out for a wife for him when I go back to America. I said okay and asked him what his criteria was. He's looking for a taller white woman with long hair. So if anyone is interested in a totally eligible, Kimakuwa-speaking, cashew-farming villager from the deep and dirty south of Tanzania, I found him! Please contact me. I've also gotten to learn a bit of the tribal language of Kimakuwa too. The villagers are always happy to hear me speaking Kmakuwa, even if its only a few random words here and there.
One day this week, I visited the secondary school and talked to the principal there for a while about possible project ideas. The secondary school in my village is the only school for the entire ward, which includes 6 separate villages and approximately 13,000 people. But there are only two permanent teachers at the school and there is no nearby water source at the school. So many times, students have to leave the classroom to walk a couple hours to go get water for the school, which takes away from their study time. Also, they still don't have any water to drink while at school and no food, so it is difficult for them to study. So I talked with the teachers about maybe doing a water project there, whether that be looking into water catchment for the school buildings or building some kind of well near the school, I don't know yet. But eventually they want to build dormitories and a kitchen so that students can live at the school since many of them come from far away. However, none of these things can happen if there isn't first water readily available at t he school. I also talked to them about doing an after school peer education and life skills club, as often times many of the students have to teach themselves, and there is an overwhelming problem with girls leaving school due to pregnancy.
The other day there was a massive thunder storm in the village. Luckily I had made it back to my house from the village office before the rain started. I was sitting in my house shelling peanuts that a neighbor had given me as a gift the day before. It started to downpour, and the rain was so loud when it hit my tin roof that I thought my whole house was going to cave in. I scrambled for some empty buckets to set up in my courtyard to catch water coming off my roof. It was a really good feeling to see those buckets fill up with water all by themselves. Then in the front of my house there was a herd of goats running past my front door. They all got scared of the thunder and began to scatter. They started to crowd and kick at my front door trying to get shelter from the storm as I sat inside shelling my peanuts.
Last Saturday, I visited my friend, Maimuna, who is one of the women in the women's AIDS group that I've been talking to. She farms and sells upupu, which in English I've been told is cow rash beans. They taste a bit like lima beans, but they take two full days to cook before you can eat them without becoming intoxicated. So I helped her finsh up the cooking and then we sat outside her house on a mat yelling "buy upupu!" together until people began to stop by to buy the delicious and nutritious upupu! I talked with Maimuna more about helping the group to collect and manage money to start a chicken project that they would like to do to help generate income for the 12 group members.
In addition to cashews and Kimakuwa, another characteristic of Nanjota is the number of rats that one will encounter in the village. I found out recently that my neighbor, Uncle John, catches rats at his farm and brings them home to cook up with ugali for dinner every night. At first I thought that the rats and I could coexist peacefully, but they have gotten out of hand. One night I couldn't even sleep because the rats in my house were apparently throwing a party. Why? I don't know, but I didn't get an invitation and i didn't want one. The next night I'm laying in the dark and I hear a noise coming from my bedroom door. I turn on my light and take a look to find a rat gnawing away at the corner of my wood door. I think fast and grab the can of bug repellent I keep under my bed. I jump out of bed and proceed to run around my room in my underwear spraying this rat in the face with my bug repellent while he scrambles and tries to find an escape route. He finally disappears into the wall and I go back to sleep. A few minutes later, he appears again and proceeds to chew at my door. So I start spraying him in the face again. I couldn't bring myself to beat the rat to death in cold blood, so I figured the bug spray was my only other option at the time. After the second spray, he didn't come back. The next morning my neighbor came to visit and I told her about my rat troubles. She was kind enough to give me some rat poison, and later that night Tupatupa himself came to help me put the poison in some tomatoes and place them around the house. I awoke the next day with the excitement of a 6 year old on Christmas morning to find two dead rats! I was very excited.
This week I also had a village meeting. The meeting was scheduled for 12:00 but didn't start until 3:00 because well this is Tanzania. Fifty people ended up comng which was great. I introduced myself and told them I hadn't come to Nanjota to hand out money, but rather to work alongside them to find solutions to problems of life within the village. I had them split up between men and women and makes list of the top five challenges they face everyday in the village. Water was definitely number one on both of the lists. But the guys focused more on electricity, tractors, and a new road, while the women wanted help starting their own businesses and forming groups for orphans and vulerable children. Overall, the meeting was a success. Now I am getting ready for IST (In Service Training) where I will get more training for the projects that I want to carry out, as well as get to see all my great Peace Corps friends again which is exciting!...I think that's all I got for now. Until next time!

A Day in the Life

I don't know where to begin! It's been so long....I've been living in my village for about two months now and its weird how much I feel at home there these days. The barren walls of my house have been covered up by the drawings that the kids have done, washing my clothes by hand and riding my bike to the well to get water have become daily norms for me, I actually have cravings for ugali now, and I have found some great friends and family here in Nanjota. Of course it does help to come into Masasi town, or rather "The Sass" every so often to see my American friends and belt out a bit of Celine Dion with the Dadas at the local eatery.
I started teaching English at the primary school to standard six students. Primary school goes until standard seven. I really enjoy it, and I think the students do too, even if they can't understand me all the time. They're really not hard to please considering without me there, they wouldn't have a teacher at all. Every time I walk in the classroom, they all stand up and say "Good morning teacher!" They don't all have books or pencils and some of them can't even read very well, so getting through to them has been a challenge. Many of them are too timid or shy to speak in front of the class or in front of me, so I try to let them work individually and go around to help them one on one. I think next week I'll bring in some candy as incentive, which will probably change things a bit. Last week, I went over pronouns and had them write sentences using them. They got the hang of usng the pronouns, but when asked to come up with sentences of their own, they didn't know enough words to complete the sentences. One boy showed me his sentence, which read "I am your bananas." So I hope now he knows his pronouns and the meaning of the word banana.
I also started doing formal house to house surveys throughout the village with my VEO (village executive officer) and the village chairman. This was much more challenging than I anticipated. We walked around visiting about 7 homes each day for about 3 days , and I would tell people why I had come to Nanjota and ask them questions about their families and possible work they would like to see done in the village. Nobody speaks English so I probably got about half of the information given for each survey, and many times people either didn't know how to answer the questions or were too scared or embarrassed to answer me directly. But then there were other families that were very open and honest. Many people hadn't gone to school past primary school. The majority are from the Makuwa tribe. The village is made up of about 70 percent Muslims and 30 percent Christians. Many women are raising families without husbands, and there are a number of children that don't go to school for various reasons. Often the parent can't afford to buy uniforms or books, or kids end up staying home to help with housework instead of going to school, especially if there's only one or no parents. Families are always pretty big also. I talked to one old guy....I tried to talk to one old guy, who told me that he had twelve kids. I also talked to an old bibi who only spoke Kimakuwa, the tribal language. Also I'm pretty sure she was blind. I took a seat on the mat outside her house next to her and proceeded to ask her 12 year old grandson my survey questions (such as what do you know about preventing HIV/AIDS) while he translated for her and then back to Swahili for me. Not sure that I got a whole lot of information from that one, but I was happy to visit with them. Next, I'm trying to set up some needs assessment meetings at the village government office, one with the men, one with the women, and one for the village youth outside of school. I'm hoping to get started with those over the next couple weeks.
I've also gotten a chance to visit farms with people from my village. Its cashew season right now! And everyone is very happy because they are harvesting their cashews and getting more money. I went to the farm with Mama Swaum one week and helped her collect korosho (cashews) that had fallen from the tree. Each cashew grows out of the fruit of the tree, which are called "mabibo" in Swahili. We collected mabibo, separated the cashews from the fruit and brought them all back to the house. We roasted to cashews and then cracked them open to get the nuts out of the shells. They were delicious! And Mama Swaum then uses the mabibo to brew pombe, local alcohol, which she can sell also.
Last Sunday I went to church and ended up having chai afterwards at the mission with the two Polish sisters who live there. It was kind of weird, because although they too are wazungu, we still had to speak Swahili to each other as they don't know English and I certainly don't speak Polish. They run the hospital in Nanjota and walking into the Mission was like stepping into a different world. The floor was clean. There were chairs with cushions, a CD player with speakers playing music, and a whole plate full of candy on the coffee table. They fed me...a lot...and talked with me about life in the village. They asked me where I get water and I told them that I go to the well like everyone else. Sister Sofia, or Mama Mkubwa as she's known around the village, was astonished to hear this and insisted that I come to the Mission to get water. The Mission is much closer to my house than the well, and the water is much cleaner...and I didn't want to be rude, so I thanked her and returned the next day with my bike and two large buckets. So I've become a bit spoiled but I still enjoy going to the other well sometimes with my friend too.
Last weekend, I visited the village of Lulindi with my neighbor. She went to visit family....it was....a learning experience. My neighbor, Mama Lazia, is very nice, but it was just a lot of Swahili for three days without enough Cameron time. She walked me around the whole village, which seemed to be fairly comparable to village life in Nanjota, and introduced me to her family. Let me ask you a question...have you ever seen a pair of 115 year old boobs? Because I have! I met Mama Lazia's grandmother, who looked like if you pushed her she'd just fall over and die right there. She can still walk, and she does have a few teeth left. She was very sweet and gave me some papayas to take back to Nanjota. We spent three nights in Lulindi, and I didn't have the foresight to plan for sleeping arrangements. We arrived at her sister's house the first night and I asked where I would be sleeping. Mama Lazia told me that the three of us would be sleeping in one bed. OK! I got ready for bed and jumped in with Mama Lazia, who is a big lady, and her sister, who I had met earlier that day. Before getting into bed they both took off their shirts and switched the radio on. As I lay in bed, a bed which was definitely not as big as I would have liked it to be, and I was sandwiched between these two Tanzanian women listening to the soothing sound of the Swahili radio blasting in my ear, I realized I could also hear a large rat squeaking somewhere in the tiny dark room. Mama Lazia rolled over and proceeded to spoon me...hard. At this point I asked myself,"What is going on with my life right now?" Needless to say, I was very excited to return to Nanjota, and I'd never been happier to see my house.
I've made good friends with a few of the vijana(youth) of Nanjota. My new friends, John and Rizik, have come to visit me a few times to play cards and this week we went to Nairombo, a village within the Ward of Nanjota, and got to meet some of the people living there. We also climbed a large mountain. It was hard to get to the top, but once we got there the view was incredible! I could see all the way past the Sass. Everything was green with cashew trees. We also rode bikes to the village of Milunda for the primary school graduation there. As we past through a few of the houses and emerged on the main dirt road, John and Rizik started laughing and I look behind me to see a swarm of children running after us screaming and waving and trying to catch up with me. Rizik said it was like I was the president!
Last Saturday was the graduation at the secondary school. There is only one secondary school for the six villages in the Nanjota Ward, and there were about 35 students in the graduating class. It was a really nice ceremony. They sang and danced a lot. I got to sit up front with all the village officials, and they welcomed me. Afterwards we ate some delicious pilau.
On Sunday I was visiting my friend, Tupatupa, in the afternoon. There is a lot of pombe drinking that goes on in the village everyday, but Sundays in particular can get pretty rowdy. I'm sitting outside the house talking with Tupatupa and his wife, when this obviously drunk bibi wanders into the courtyard. She's very short and stumbling. She had approximately 5 teeth in her mouth. She walks up to us and starts singing. I can't understand her and realize she is speaking Kimakuwa. She continues to sing louder and starts doing this dance which involved violent pelvic thrusts. I couldn't stop laughing. Tupatupa told me she was doing a tribal dance, and then he started to clap and sing along with her. She decided to take a break and took a seat next to me. She starts speaking loudly telling me that she is Makuwa and asking me where I'm from. Again she tells me she's Makuwa in a loud voice just in case I didn't catch it the first 2 times. She asks Tupatupa if he's got any pombe, to which he replies "hapana," and then she slowly hoisted herself up off the ground to continue singing and thrusting. She sang and danced her way all the way out of the courtyard.
There have been many moments such as this one over the past few weeks when I take a step back and look at where my life has taken me, and I just have to laugh. Sometimes I still can't believe I'm here and doing this. Who would have thought that I would be singing Kimakuwa with a crazy drunk grandma in a village in Masasi? Or that I would be braiding my neighbor's hair into corn rows while having a conversation with her in Swahili? Or that I would be riding my bike through scattered mud huts and cashew trees with my new Tanzanian friend seated behind me? I'm definitely enjoying it here in Nanjota and have grown accustom to the Tanzanian way of living. The other day I woke up with a rat in my bed and just pushed him off, rolled over, and went back to sleep. Ya, I think I've integrated.

I Am the Walrus

As I walk to the water pump with my bucket in hand, I am greeted by many village faces that have now become familiar to me. I stop to say hello to each of them. Mama Joyce asks if I am going to "chota maji" to which I reply "ndio." Then she laughs a bit, and asks if I can actually carry the bucket on my head. I tell her that I don't know, but I'm gonna try. She laughs a bit more and I continue to the well. I get to the well I wait patiently for my turn to get water. There are about 7 women at the well today and a bunch of watoto. An older boy greets me and asks why I don't just pay another person to get water for me. I tell him that I can get water for myself. He laughs and gives me a high five. It's finally my turn and the kids help me to fill my bucket. Then the time comes for me to put the bucket on my head. I have an audience. I wrap up my kanga into a ball and put it on my head. One of the Mamas helps me lift the bucket and place it comfortably on my head. I stand up and start walking. Granted yes, it was a small bucket and there are women in my village who run around with the monster buckets topped off with a smaller bucket on their head, but I'm working on it. As I say goodbye to the women at the well and turn to walk away, many of them can't even get the words out to say goodbye because they are laughing so hard. I knew that the walk home was going to be a tough one, not because of the bucket full of water on my head, but because of the attention I was going to get. As I make my way through the main road in my village, everyone that sees me begins to smile and greet me. A family outside their house sees me and begins to laugh, so I greet them and use my free hand to give them a thumbs up. I can hear wrinkly old bibis choking on their own laughter far off in the distance. I have a train of watoto quick on my heels. Finally I arrive at my house...and the buckets still full! I will need some more practice though. There are many instances in my village, such as this one, when I might as well be a walrus. Try as I might, I am not African, and I can't seem to blend in. That's ok though. I was laughing with all of them on my way home that day. I've gotten used to it. I really am the walrus of Nanjota.
Well, I've been in living in Nanjota for 4 weeks now. I have definitely learned a lot in such a short period of time. This past week, I was talking with some of the village youth at the local soko (shop) about America. They were all very interested to know if I knew Lil Wayne personally, as well as Fat Joe, and Akon. I said no, unfortunately we're not BFF, but I'll try to tell them that you say hi.
One day this week I got to help out at the village clinic. That day was baby weighing day! Kilian, the village chairman, came to my house and we walked to the clinic. As we walk up to the building, the sound of babies crying is overwhelming. We turn the corner to see the outside waiting area filled with women with their babies wrapped up in kangas. I take a seat at the table in the center of the room next to a man who begins to call out names. To my right there's a scale with a hook hanging from the rafters of the building, and on the table next to me are a bunch of blue shorts with a long suspender attached to them. On this day, I saw more boobs than I've ever seen in my life. As I look around, the room is just a bolstering chaos of watoto and Mamas, who are very auick to whip out the boob if only to shut the kid up. The Mamas who are being called begin to line up, and hand me the baby weighing cards. When a baby is born, they receive cards to track the baby's weight. There were many cards with fluctuating weight, and sometimes I could see that there had been a time period of weight loss for a lot of kids. The Mamas begin to shove the kids into these blue trousers and proceed to hook the suspender on the scale, allowing the kid to dangle and squirm around in the air as I try to get an accurate reading on the scale. Some of them just hung there, cool and calm, while others were screaming bloody murder. As I sat next to the scale, I think I definitely struck fear into the hearts of a few of them, and they were more scared of me than they were of the whole weighing process. I saw one of the Mamas from the AIDS group walk in with her baby. Amongst the chaotic noise of screaming mothers and crying babies, she and her baby, Fatuma, were very calm and quiet. She sat down and I smiled and greeted her, and couldn't help but wonder the Fatuma's status. But Fatuma wasn't scared of me! I held her for a bit and talked while Fatuma waited for her turn at the scale for a flying lesson.
The next day was Sikuku,and the last day of Ramadhan, so there was a huge celebration in the village. Everyone was very excited because they had been fasting for the past month and were starving! I started my day by visiting my neighbor, Mama Swaum, and she taught me how to make pilau, or dirty rice....delicious by the way. Then I moved on to Mama Lazia, who had cooked up the biggest sufuria of pilau I had ever seen in my life. I ate....and then I ate again....oh and then one more time. Once I got to the point of projectile vomiting, I waddled over to the village playing field to watch the big soccer game that would be starting at 4:00 that day. It was Nanjota versus a neighboring village (I can't remember the name). Everyone from the village was there, and I thought to myself that this is probably like the Nanojta version of the NFL, and I had a front row seat. There were people walking around selling corn and mandazi and things. The game was really exciting, and the Nanjota team was amazing! There was one player without shoes. They all played really well, and we won that day. Afterwards everyone in the crowd started singing and dancing and running on the field.
The next morning, I was on my way out of the house to go to a neighbor's house, but decided to go to the choo first. I close the door and take position, when all of a sudden my phone falls out of my shirt pocket and lands dangerously close to the choo hole. The phone fell apart and started sliding, and luckily I quickly slapped my hand down to catch it. I let out a sigh of relief, and lift up my hand to examine the phone.....where's the battery?.....ummm....where's the battery?....no really, am I going crazy? It should be here, where is it? where's the battery?! I run into the house and grab my head lamp. I run back to choo and look down into the pit of the choo to see my phone battery placed conveniently atop a heap of my own crap....I quickly weigh my options in my head. I can't buy a new battery until I go into town which isn't for another week, and my mom's going to the hospital for surgery in two days....I need that battery NOW. I run around my courtyard and outside my house. I find a few long sturdy sticks and some rope. I proceed to tie them together. I grab a plastic cup and tie it to the end of my new battery fishing rod. Once I decide my contraption is ready to withstand the depths of the choo, I decide I need to put on some armer for this battle. I grab a dirty kanga and wrap it around myself and strap my head lamp on nice and snug. Ok choo, I'm ready. I think I spent about an hour and a half with as much of my body down that choo hole as was humanly possible. It smelled bad, and I was tired, but didn't want to give up. I could see the battery at the bottom of the pit, and shoved it around for a good long while, but for some reason it just wouldn't jump into the cup I had tied to the end of the rod......(sidenote: CJ, the choo pit kind of reminds me of the Bog of Eternal Stench, so you should feel really special that you were in my thoughts at that moment in time...it did make me smile despite my position). It was dark, it was late, and the choo had won the fight. I gave up, retired my fishing rod, and walked back towards the house with my head hung low. The next morning, I visited my WEO for a bit and told her about my plight. She told me that my neighbor was going into Masasi that day. Yay! My Savior! I ran home and grabbed 10,000 shillings to give him before he left. He came back that day with a shiny new battery that didn't smell like poop, and I was ever so grateful. I charged it up with my spiffy solar charger and talked to my mom. The surgery went well, and all is right with the world once again. But my old battery still sits at the bottom of my choo. Thanks a lot choo for eating my battery.....I definitely learned my lesson.
I talked with Rebecca on the phone for a while too the next day. She's very far away, living in Mbeya. But she told me that her WEO gave her a live chicken as a present when she got to her village. We decided to name her Hitler, so that when the day came when it was time to execute her, she wouldn't feel quite so bad. During the first week of having the chicken, Rebecca and Hitler had a love hate relationship. Hitler had only laid one egg, and she kept running away. I told her she needed to get a leash and a collar for Hitler. She said the idea of killing her is looking better and better with each day. We decided that for Thanksgiving, we should try to reunite and maybe use Hitler as our turkey dinner. We'll see how long she lasts.
Next week, I'm starting my house to house survey of the village to learn more about what the villagers of Nanjota need. I've met many of them already, and have already talked to many families that I hope I will be able to help. There are many households with kids who can't go to school for various reasons, single mothers, or sick elders, and a lot of really young moms. There are a number of orphans in the village that I've noticed because they come to my house everyday while the other kids are in school. I've gotten to know one of my neighbors, Mama Anza, really well. She's lived in Nanjota her whole life, and has three kids. Their father left to go to school in Dar es Salaam, and isn't coming back. She works really hard taking care of her kids and cleaning house, so doesn't really have an income. We usually go to the watering hole together. She is definitely someone that I'm happy to know, and hope to be able to help.
I think that's all I got for right now. I will try to write again soon. Thanks to everyone for following me and all of your support. Here's my new address if you want to send me anything. You have no idea how happy I am to get letters once in a while! Until next time.....word of warning: if you happen to go to the choo, make sure your phone is secure. K thanks.

P.O. Box 218
Masasi, Mtwara Region
East Africa, Tanzania

I'm Still Alive!

I have survived the first couple of weeks at site, which I've heard is the roughest part. My house is still pretty empty. I'm been living off of oatmeal and spponfuls of peanut butter. I got a table and four chairs but the children quickly broke one leg of the table so I'm back to square one now. They're pretty much in my house all day everyday, playing cards, drawing, or making fun of me for not understanding a word they're saying. I hope I get to the point one day when someone talks to me and I don't have a dumb confused look on my face. But I rarely get to speak English anymore, so I'm sure I'll get there sooner than later.
On Monday, my VEO, Dickson, and the Village Chairman, Kilian, took me on a tour of the village schools. We started at the nursery, which was basically like a kindergarden. I walk through the gates and a swarm of short little bodies wearing bright green and yellow dresses and shorts swarm me. They are screaming and laughing and chanting "shikamoo!" at me. They are literally slapping each other in the face to get a chance to hold my hand. They were so cute. I decided that if I'm ever having a bad day, I just need to go to the nursery for a bit. Then we walked over to the primary school, which is right in front of my house. The kids there wear the same uniform as the ones in Kilulu, white blouses with blue shorts and skirts. Kilian and Dickson took me into the Mwalimu Mkuu, or Principal's, office to meet him and talk a bit. His name is Mwalimu Mawilo. After talking a bit, he went outside and I hear the stampede of kids beginning to line up outside the building, and I know what's coming. I can't see him, but I can hear him saying something to the mob of students in a very stern voice. He returns to the office and motions to me to come. I walk outside and the whole school of students are lined up waiting for me to introduce myself. Mwalimu Mawilo says, "Ongea, karibu!" In unison, the students all greet me with a "Good Morning!" I proceed to introduce myself once again in Swahili and tell them why I'm there. I did see some familiar faces of kids I had gotten to know around the village already, and I definitely already have a group that comes to my house daily. After the Mwalimu Mkuu says a few more words the students disperse and we say goodbye. We start the long walk to the secondary school next. These kids are around 14 to 18 years old. I meet Mwalimu Sarah, the Mwalimu Mkuu for the secondary school. She can speak more English than anyone I had met thus far, so I took the opportunity to ask as many questions as I could think of. Then, she took me to each classroom, and I gave each class my introduction shpeel. I also told them that I'd be around for the next 2 years and if they have questions about America...karibu! After hearing this, many of them literally jumped out of their seats, raised their hands and begged me to answer them. Mwalimu Sarah sternly told them to "Sit Down!" and that I would be able to answer all of their questions later.
After seeing the schools, I also got a chance to visit the hospital and village health clinic. There are two nurses and one doctor for the hospital. The health clinic is mostly used for vaccinations and pregnant mothers. I returned to the clinic one day this week to visit, and happened to come just in time to witness a woman give birth. The baby was 3.5 kilograms. I didn't watch the actual birth, but the nurses called me to come into the room soon after. They asked me to think of a name for the baby, and I just laughed. I told the new Mama hongera. She looked pretty tired. No meds for her. She just had to sit and wait for him to come out! I also talked with the nurse there about the patients that come in. She said they do have HIV/AIDS counselling for new mothers, but I don't know yet how much information they actually get.
After my day of meeting all the village schools, and birthing babies, I still had my village meeting with the wazee, or the village elders. We head over to the village office, and I take a seat at the front of the room with Dickson and Kilian. The elders slowly make their way into the room and we begin the meeting. Kilian starts the meeting and proceeds to talk a bit about me. Then, we go around the room, and each man stands up, introduces himself, and welcomes me. One man stood up and took a few steps towards me. He began to speak very quickly and muddled, but he did raise his voice, and he was gesturing with his hands. I was sitting in my seat with a look of fear in my eyes. I had no idea what he was saying to me, but I did know that he was talking to me and that he sounded angry. Later I come to find out that he was simply welcoming me to Nanjota and that all of the wazee are very happy to have me as part of the community. Dickson and Kilian laughed at me when I told them that I was a bit afraid of him.....it was a long day, and I slept well that night....except for the fact that I have a new bedtime friend. I'm sitting in the darkness underneath my mosquito net. I roll over and wake up to a high pitched squeaking noise. Dare I turn on my light to find the source of this mysterious noise?...Oh yes, I dare. I turn on my light and take a look around. In the right corner of the ceiling at the foot of my bed there is a bat hanging upside down. His beady little eyes reflect off the light of my flashlight. He begins to spread his nasty little wings. I quickly turn off my light and begin to play dead. Maybe he didn't see me. Oh well, I woke up alive the next morning so no harm done. I'm thinking of naming him, but haven't decided on a name yet....maybe Fredrick.
Over the next few days, I tried to get out of the house as much as I could. I visited the school again, I've been playing with the kids. I've been cooking with my neighbors, sitting at the duka (shop) or Nanjota chai bucks and trying to talk with people. I can't really go anywhere or do anything without people knowing. But everyone knows my name and yells "Kamerooni!" at me whenever I walk by, demanding that I come and talk for a while. He takes me quite a while to get anywhere.
I think I've had about 5 marriage proposals thus far. I was sitting outside of my house one afternoon playing with the kids. An older man with one bad eye walks up to me and puts out his hand.
He says, "Hello Mr. Kamerooni."
"Um...hello."
"How are you? Are you ok?"
"Nzuri sana. Na wewe?"
"No! No Swahili. I want to speak English to you."
".....ok."
"I want to marry you."
I laugh...."why?"
"I want to marry you. You will be my wife....because you are a daughter, and I am a son...his and hers....We will get married."
"....no we won't. I don't want to get married right now."
"Not right now? You say no today. I will come tomorrow..you will say yes."
"....ok whatever...kesho!"

I also get a lot of people asking me for money. One man has greeted me a couple times in the morning telling me that he needs me to give him money so that he can buy a machine to harvest his cashews. I have to explain to a lot of people that I'm a volunteer and that I didn't come to Nanjota to hand out money. Luckily my VEO lives next door, and we have dubbed him my bodyguard. He's usually around to alleviate the situation.
Yesterday, I went to a meeting for a group of women who are infected with AIDS. It was small, and I'm sure there are many more people in the village who are infected, but are ashamed to be open about their status. A couple of the women had babies, and they don't know their status yet. I couldn't understand a lot of what was being said during the meeting, but my WEO was able to explain it to me later. They are trying to open up a bank account for the group and start up some kind of business to generate income for themselves. They don't have much money because either their husbands have passed away, or they're too sick to work, or various other reasons. Many of them are farmers. They were all very welcoming, and I could definitely see myself becoming very involved with this group in some way.
Since then, I've just been trying to study more Swahili, talking with people as much as I can, cooking, and getting my water, which is quite a task. Water conservation has taken on a new meaning for me. I got to come into town again this weekend to see the other volunteers and to buy a bicycle. I was waiting at the end of the barabara, or road, to catch the daladala to get here this morning when a man in a long black trench coat and a bright orange beanie runs up to me from across the road. He has a camera around his neck that looks like its about 20 years old and he tells me that him and his friends want to take a picture with me. I say ok, and he begins to take my picture while various people are jumping into the frame and posing with me. It was such a bizarre moment for me. It was my first experience with the paparazzi of Tanzania.
While these guys all wanted to take a picture with me, or marry me, when it comes to younger children or babies, they seem to be deathly afraid. I was walking to the watering hole the other day with a couple of friends, and we walked by this house with three small children lined up outside. All at once they shouted "Shikamoo Mzungu!" at me. So I laughed and ran up to them and said "Nipe tano!" and held out my hand for a high five. They instantly broke out in tears and ran away....oops. I guess I'm really scary.
Apart from the frightenend children, I've made a lot of friends, and Nanjota is starting to feel more and more like a home everyday. I love the people, and am trying desperately to learn the language more. As far as the work I'll be doing, I'm really excited and can already see opportunities where I could help. It will definitely be challenging and I have a long way to go, but if my homestay Mama were here she would just tell me "Pole pole Kamerooni".....take your time, you'll get there.

There's no Place Like Home

I wake up next to my new friend Katie, with whom I've been forced into a close relationship incredibly quickly. Lucky for me she's pretty awesome. We spent hte night at a Holiday Inn Guesti. Not The Holiday Inn....a small crumbly guest house in Masasi Town that happens to be called Holiday Inn. It's my birthday and today is Installation Day, when I will be taken to my village and dropped off at my new house. The anticipation and stress of this day was rediculous.But first let's backtrack.
The swearing in ceremony was really nice. The U.S. Ambassador gave a speech as well as the CVountry Director. We sang the Tanzanian National Anthem and did our dance. It was...good. Then, we had our last night in Dar before leaving early in the morning. The next morning...and entire day in fact, was incredibly emotionally and physically drainig. Saying goodbye to all of my new friends was so hard, and I knew that the next step would be the most challenging. But my group of 40 now became a group of 9. There were 9 of us traveling down to various areas of the Mtwara District. It would take us 2 days to finally arrive in Masasi. There is only one road from Dar to Mtwara, and part of it isn't even paved. I was stuffed into the trunk of one of the Peace Corps cars with Ben and Tyler. Space was limited as we had a rediculous amount of luggage to trasport as well. Everyone made sure to pack their bags full of the essentials: pillows, candy, books, and toilet paper. Once we reached the unpaved road, the ride got pretty rough. I'm sitting in the trunk of the car bouncing around and thinking that the theme song for Indiana Jones should be playing right now. Either that or, "Um....shouldn't there be a T-rex chasing us right now or something?" Literally rediculous off roading. And please keep in my mind we've been stuffed into the trunk of this car. At one point I'm pretty sure the car got some air. We must have. I ended up on top of Tyler, Ben lost his glasses, and we all had sore heads the next day. This part of road lasted for a good 3 hours. As we were all crying about how beat up we were going to be from this ride I said,"Maybe we should have worn our bicycle helmets for this car trip. Also, I didn't know that I was going to need an industrial strength sports bra just to get into Masasi. This is rediculous." But finally, we hit pavement again. This road should have been a good indication of the conditions we were soon to encounter in the "deep and dirty south." Since being here, I have learned that this is the least developed region of Tanzania with some of the lowest levels of education.
My group of 9 was slowly becoming smaller. We stopped in Lindi to drop off Jen before traveling inland to Masasi. We spent one night there, with a couple of current PCVs in the area. We went to a bar that was literally on the beach. It was just a few small tables on the sand next to the ocean. No lights, only the moonlight. It was pretty awsesome, and I don't feel bad for Jen at all. We're all quite jealous. She is a bit more isolated from other volunteers, but her village is on the freaking beach! So the next morning we said goodbye to her, as well as Tyler, Toni, and Ben, who would be taking a different route to get to their banking town, Newala.....And then there were three. Katie, Sativa, and I continued on for Masasi. After our group split up, my new reality was beginning to settle in, and I'm not gonna lie...I was fucking scared.
After driving through a forest of coconut and cashew trees, we arrived at Masasi. It was hot. It was dirty. It had a bit of that special African aroma to it. It was bustling with vendors and small shops. It was pretty similar to many of the smaller towns in Tanzania we have driven through. We are met by the group of PCVs that have been living down here for the past year. They are all extremely nice and excited to see us, and I am SO excited to see them. However, as they begin to speak Swahili and lead us around town, I feel instantly inadequate. I hope my Swahili gets that good some day! They take us around town to do some essential shopping for things we won't be able to get in the village: a bucket, a charcoal stove, bread, and a tub of peanut butter. That night, they took us out to a bar in Masasi and we got some food and the last cold beer I would drink for a while. I was talking with a village official from a neighboring village as I was drinking my beer. I told him where I would be living and he said that he hoped I liked hot beer as opposed to the ice cold one which I was enjoying. The PCVs also knew that my birthday was the next day, so they got some cookies to share. It was really nice of them. I had just met them earlier that day, yet I was celebrating my birthday with all of them that night.
That brings us to the following morning. We had a meeting with our respective village officials, and the District Executive Director of Masasi. At this point, our Peace Corps facilitator introduced us and handed us over to our village leaders. I met my two VEOs (Village Executive Officers), Dickson and Ndauka. They are both extremely nice and excited to see me. After talking with them for a bit, I felt much more at ease about everything, and I got excited to see Nanjota. I said goodbye and good luck to Sativa and Katie. We loaded up the truck and headed south for Nanjota. And then there was one. The village is about 30 kilometers outside of Masasi. When we arrived, the village elders were ready and waiting to greet me. I shake hands with them all and take a seat. Everyone introduced themselves, and I understood about half of what everyone was saying to me. I stood up to introduce myself, and told them I was excited to be here in Nanjota. Then, we had dinner at the dinner at the WEO's (Ward Executive Officer) house. I waited there for a while, the whole time still wondering where exactly I would be living for the next two years. It was dark before they took me over to my house. I'm pretty sure they were building the door to my room,and that's why I was waiting. They dropped me off and said goodnight. I shut the door. It was dark, I was absolutley alone in every sense of the word. I was in the middle of nowhere in the deep south of Tanzania. My Swahili was inadequate. It was my birthday, and all I had was a tub of peanut butter, and a bottle of wine that I had bought myself in Masasi. My new reality finally settled in, and I started to question how I was actually going to be able to handle this. At this point, I just wished I could click my heels and chant "there's no place like home!" but alas, I needed to redefine my idea of where home was. I turned on my ipod, and reminded myself that everything was going to be fine. I can do this. It was definitely a birthday that I will never forget.
The next morning, I mustered up the courage to emerge from my big empty house. The house has three rooms and a huge courtyard in the back. The walls are cement and there's a tin roof...oh ya, and there are plenty of rats and lizards to keep me company (apparently people down here eat the rats, because well..there's not much else....don't worry, I'm not gonna eat a rat).
That morning, I could hear my neighbor's sweeping outside and the villagers saying good morning to each other. I have no furniture to speak of, but I lay down a kanga and have as seat outside my new house. Eventually people comne to greet me and welcome me. Everyone is really nice. Eventually a crowd of kids come over and I bring out my cards to play a bit. My new neighbor, Mama Ester has lent me her mat to sit on, and tells me that if I need anything then to let her know. That first day was definitely really hard and intimidating, but the villagers were happy to see me, and I felt very welcomed. I had dinner with Dickson and Mwanaheri (WEO) that night. I also met Sylvia, Mwanaheri's younger sister, who can speak a bit of English, and has been kind enough to teach me some new words. Those first couple of days I just met with villagers, introduced myself, and tried really hard to understand everything they were saying to me. One of my neighbors took me to the well with her so that I could know where to get water. All of the women were really excited to see me there getting water for myself. And when I put the bucket on my head, wrapped my new friend's baby on my back with her kanga, and started he long walk home, they couldn't stop laughing at me. I've gotten used to it though. I would have laughed at me too.
On Tuesday, I went back into town with Dickson and Kilian, the Chairman of Nanjota. I had made a shopping list that they were going to help me with, and I could not have survived that dy without them. I probably would have ended up paying twice as much for everything. After 45 minutes of standing on one foot in a cramped daladala on top of a lady holding a chicken, we arrived at Masasi. I got some vegetables, and kitchen supplies, some bowls and spoons, and a small rolling pin and cutting board so I can make chapati. After our long day of shopping, we missed the last daladala returning to Nanjota that day. We were forced to board a "bajaji", which is basically a small tin can with three wheels that is used strictly to get from one end of town to the other. But today, this small bajaji would take the three of us all the way back to Nanjota. It's probably comparable to a golf cart, and it can't go faster than about 35 miles per hour. So we put-putted all the way home stuffed in this tiny bajaji for about 45 minutes. It only stalled about 5 times, and at one point it got stuck in the dirt and we all had to get out and push it for a ways. But we made it in one piece.
The next day, I walked around the village with Dickson and Mwanaheri to explore. There are 6 subvillages in Nanjota, and I got to see a few of them. We walked a ways down the road and saw a bridge being built. I will visit a farm tomorrow, and on Sunday I will be going to church. But I'm starting to feel more at home everyday, even though my house is still empty. I talked with a local carpenter who is working on making me some furniture as we speak. I've been visiting neighbors, cooking with them, playing with the kids, and trying to learn as much about Nanjota as I can. Learning more Swahili will definitely be key. At this point its still frustrating only getting half of the information out of a conversation. I've been getting to know my village officials really well, and on Monday I have a meeting to speak with the village elders.
....There is really so much more I could say, but I have no time. This is literally the hardest thing I've ever been faced with. Walking into this village and not knowing the language, trying to get to know people, learning about the environment and their way of life, these are all huge challenges that are kind of freaking me out at the moment. But it's getting more and more familiar everyday. Having villagers that are happy to see me everyday and patient with my limited Swahili helps immensely. It's still weird to think that this is my new home for the next two years! I'll keep you updated as much as I can. Until next time!

Kwaheri Kilulu! I'll miss you!

I made the long bus trip back to Kilulu from my haunting shadow experience. The ride was about 13 hours long, but I did get to see elephants, giraffe, zebras, and gazelles right outside my window on the way back home. We stayed at the Mzimbasi Center in Dar es Salaam for a couple nights before continuing to Muheza. We got to go to the Peace Corps Headquarters to set up our bank accounts since I will soon be an official Peace Corps Volunteer! I will be getting 230,000 Tanzanian shillings each month, which is about 230 dollars a month. This is still more than the average villager will make in Mtwara. I will also be getting 390,000 shillings as a moving in allowance. I am the first volunteer in the village of Nanjota, so my house will not be furnished and I will be starting from scratch. All I know so far is that there are two bedrooms, a choo all to myself, the door has a lock, and yes, there will be a roof of some kind...possibly thatch. Other than that, I know that there is a water source "within reasonable distance." I have yet to find out what that means, but apparently its pretty easy to find children who are willing to fetch water in exchange for pipi (pipi means candy in Kiswahili..haha. Also, my house is 0.3 kilometers from the secondary school in Nanjota. It's about 25 kilomters from Masasi, which is the banking twon where I will need to go to get money, mail, and whatever else I may need. All I've heard so far about my region is that it does get pretty hot, and some of the foods that I will find down there are tons of mangoes and cashews. I can't wait to see it and find out more! I've never in my life lived all alone, and I guess I'm choosing to try it out in the middle of the "deep and dirty" south of Tanzania. It will take about two days to get there because the roads are so bad and during the rainy season you can't even get into my region due to flooding. It sounds pretty secluded.
Anyways...back to our stop in Dar. We had an opportunity to do a bit of shopping. It was fun to come back to Dar and try to brave the streets on our own. It was definitely less intimidating, but I'm still getting the hang of those crazy crowded daladalas. I also got a chance to work on my haggling skills. There are no price tags or anything so vendors usually get to charge as much as they want. And as a muzungu, I usually get charged at least twice as much as a Tanzanian would be. Thus I have gotten the hang of negotiatng and trying to talk down the prices. Usually starting with a bit of conversation and trying to dazzle them with my Swahili skills helps a bit. They will often give me some rediculous muzungu price and I'll respond with a "Unaniua Bwana! Mimi ni voluntia!"....Roughly translated to "You're killing me Smalls! I'm just a volunteer!" I got no money! Usually they will laugh at me, but hey it gets the job done. I was able to buy a few going away presents for my host family.
After shopping I met up with a few other volunteers and we decided to split the price of a tazi to get back to the hostel. There were 8 of us and we were negotiating with this guy about trying to get us all into one car.....When I say taxi I don't mean nice yellow sedan. I mean broken downdirty looking car that this guy probably bought cheap and fixed and is now driving around as a taxi. We finally convince him that we can all fit in the taxi and no matter how cramped or rediculously squished we are, let's face it, it would still be a safer ride than a daladala. So we piled in, two of us up front and six of us piled on top of each other in the back seat. Of course, it was around 6:00, almost dark, and during the rush hour traffic of Dar. Our driver decided to try and take the back streets, where the roads may be a bit less congested, but the potholes were enormous. After hearing the car bottom out through a number of potholes, the driver realized his car couldn't take it anymore. He stopped and told us to get out because we were killing his car. So we piled out of our clown car, but we still had some bags in the trunk. OUr driver refused to open the trunk until we paid the full price we had decided on, even though we hadn't made it to our destination. My friend Alli stayed in the car while we negotiated as he seemed to be getting ready to just drive away with our stuff. We paid and he finally popped the trunk and dumped us on a street which looked like one that was not often frequented by tourists. It was getting darker, and we decided we needed to just split up to get back to our safe haven, the Mzimbase Center. We finally made it back!
The next morning we boarded yet another bus for a 5 hour bus ride back to Muheza. I think I'm getting really good at falling asleep in small cramped spaces. Not that I had too much trouble falling asleep anywhere before Africa, but anyways, We got to Muheza and had some down time before we needed to get back home so we decided to get some food. We tried a new place and my friend, Paul, ordered some chicken. When we were ready to leave, we got the bill and saw that we had been charged 10,000 shillings for this chicken, which probably should have cost half that much. When Paul asked the owner about the bill, he simply stated that this was the "muzungu price" and that he would need to pay it. Lesson learned: make sure you decide on a fair price before eating the chicken...and don't go back to that place ever again. After paying, we stopped by another bar where some other volunteers had been waiting for a ride. It was called The White House. The only reason for this name as far as Icould tell was the fact that the cracked cement walls looked like they had been painted white a number of years ago. We walk upstairs, grab, a beer, and take a seat. As I sat down I thought about how "normal" my surroundings had become at this point. When I say I went into a bar you probably have a very different picture of what was going on. When I say "bar", I really do mean a cement building with no infrastructure which is falling apart. There are no women apart from us, only men drinking and playing pool. There are only a couple of tables and a few plastic chairs. If the bartender has a bia baridi for you, or a cold beer, you should feel very special. And as you sit down, you shouldn't be bothered by the two guys behind you who are cleaning cows feet and tails while a bunch of mosquitoes and flies hover around them. One guy was shaving off the fur of the cow leg with a small razor blade, while the other was hacking at the leg bone with a massive butcher knife. This was a totally normal situation, and I didn't think twice about what was happening. I looked around and thought about writing about going to a bar, but realized that my idea of what constitutes a bar has changed drastically, and that further explanation was necessary.
Getting back to Kilulu that night was great. My family had missed me, and I had definitely missed them. It was weird to drive back up the hill into the village and feel like I was coming home to a place that was brand new to me not so long ago. But I was happy to be back home. The next night was the big village going away party for the 5 of us. Getting dressed was quite an ordeal as my Mama wanted to make sure that I looked good. Apparently my fashion sense does not translate. I needed to be wearing one solid color all over. Everything needed to match precisely, and my hair needed to be pulled back. I went over to Rebecca's house before the party to get ready, and we both thought that we were looking pretty good, until we walked out of her room, and her Dada gave us a signature Dada look and had us turn around to change. Finally, we made it to the party, which was held in one of the small classrooms at the primary school. The village officials were all there, along with Big Boy, our families, the school teachers, and other villagers that we had come to know so well. They had brought over the one generator in Kilulu and had a small boombox, a light bulb, as well as a TV that was on the whole night. It was such a treat to have a bit of electricity that night that it seemed like they just decided to turn some things on just because they could! The village officials said some words and we each stood up and showed our appreciation. Then our families gave us our gifts, and then it was time to eat and dance! What was on the menu? We had coconut rice, another kind of spiced rice, potatoes, tambe(which is like a sweet speaghetti noodle), beans, chapati, and spinach. I'm a little surprised my stomach didn't explode that night. We got our food and sat down at the small wooden desks and ate while the boom box blasted rap music and there was some kind of wildlife show on the TV, in which a snake was hunting a mongoose. I was definitely having an "I'm in Africa" moment right then and there. After dinner, my Mama got out on the dance floor and started shaking it! All of the Mamas got into it, and it was nice for them to be able to have some fun for a bit. They all work so hard. It was a great night, and it definitely made me realize that my time in Kilulu was ending, which was sad. It went by way too fast.
The next day we wandered over to the permagarden to take a look at the progress. The kids had built a great fence to keep the chickens out, and that garden is growing! I can't believe how fast things are growing but everything looks great! Clement, the man who taught us the permagrdening, even came to Kilulu to take a look at the garden and said that the Kilulu garden has been the most successful and should be used as a model for future CBT groups. I can't wait to come back to visit Kilulu and see even more progress. The school has really been taking great care of it.
Before leaving Kilulu, I paid a visit to the local fundi, which is basically like a seamstress. I had bought some fabric in Muheza and needed a dress made for the swearing in ceremony. He measured me and took the fabric. I tried my best to explain what I wanted the dress to look like, and said that I would come back in a couple of days to pick it up. I have since learned that as my language skills get better, so will my dresses. The dress is great, but not quite what I had pictured in my head. I told the fundi that I would like the dress to tie in the back and he went ahead and sewed a full on bow to the backside of the dress. Hamnashida (Oh well, no worries). As long as I have a dress to wear. We have to put on a performance at the swearing in ceremony, and in my absence, for some reason my group volunteered me to be one of the dancers....We will be singing and dancing to an African song....I will be wearing my fabulous new dress...there will be about 200 people in the audience....I can't wait. It should be interesting, and I'll let you know how it goes.
Before that though we had to say goodbye to Kilulu! My last couple of nights I spent with my family and with the village kids. I gave my Kaka Dula a pack of cards and was able to teach them a couple of American games. Once I told them I knew some card games from America, they were so excited and eager to learn. I taught them Go Fish, or "Nenda Samaki" as well as Crazy Eights, or "Nane Chisi." They love Go Fish and now every night, I can even hear the neighbors playing and yelling "Nenda Samaki!" from the next house over. It's good to know that even after I'm gone they'll be screaming "Nenda Samaki!" My last walk home through the village was hard. I had to say goodbye to the kids and all the villagers that had been so friendly and greeted us every day as we walked home. On my last Sunday I went to the farm with my Baba and helped him shuck corn all morning. A couple of days ago, Rhamadan started, so my family has been fasting all day. This meant that instead of feeding me dinner once at night, I now got two dinners at night. I'm in Africa and I feel like I never stop eating! So many times I have to tell them to please stop feeding me. One night, they gave me this hunk of pure cow fat the size of my fist, which they referred to as meat. I knew that if I tried to bite into it, I wouldn't be able to break it with my teeth. It was so tough, and literally...just fat. I couldn't do it. Mama said Eddie wanted some, and I told her to please just let her have the fat.
My last night in Kilulu, I went over to Sarah's house to play some Nenda Samaki with her and her kaka and dada. There were a bunch of other village kids hanging out in her courtyard as well. Sarah decided that tonight was the night she needed to break out the 8 glow sticks she had brought with her to Tanzania. We turned on the glow sticks and the kids went wild. It was pitck black outside and they were swinging them around. Sometimes they would smack themselves or each other in the face, but it didn't matter! They had never seen anything like it. On top of that, Sarah brought out her ipod and small portable speaker. We started playing "Push It" by Salt n Peppa, while the kids danced and swung their glow sticks. So there we were, in the bush of Tanzania, dancing with the village kids, rocking out to Salt n Peppa with some glow sticks. I will definitely miss Kilulu.
But I am excited to start the next part of this journey. Things are definitely going to change and I will soon be faced with all new challenges. I finally started to feel like Kilulu was my home here and now I need to go start over again somewhere new. Except this time I have to do it all on my own. We just got back to the Mzimbasi Center today. Tomorrow is the swearing in ceremony where I will be making my dancing debut and I'm really sorry that all of you will be missing it. And Thursday I will begin my long journey down south. It will be a long trip and I think we'll have to spend a night in Masasi before getting to my village. Its very possible that my first night all alone in my village will be my 24th birthday :( I'll have to make some new friends pretty quick. Luckily, I'll get to celebrate with my fellow PCVs in Dar before we all have to split up and go our separate ways. I will be sad to leave them all :( From my CBT group, Sarah will be going to Lushoto and Rebecca will be living in the cold mountains of Mbeya, so the three of us will be pretty spread out. But I'm looking forward to meeting my new villagers, and the other volunteers who have already been placed in my region. I can't believe the time has come to move to my site already! I'll let you all know how it goes when I get there! I don't know what the computer situation will be like until I get there but I will update as soon as I have a chance. Also, I will know my new address once I get to town and am able to set up a PO Box down there, so please keep sending me mail! I need it! Hope all is well back in America. I miss you all!

The Twilight Zone

It's 3:00 in the morning and my alarm goes off. I have just enough time to put on my head lamp and run to the choo before I hear the Peace Corps car pull up outside of my house. My Mama wakes up and Baba greets Jumapili as he walks through the door. Meanwhile, I'm in my room scrambling in the darkness trying to get my bag packed. He wasn't supposed to be there until 3:30! But I guess I was the first stop. I finally emerge from my bedroom and say goodbye to Mama and Baba, and then I was of! This week was shadow week and I was on my way to Njombe in the Southern Highlands. After 16 hours on a cramped bus ride, JP, Tyler, and myself arrived and met our PCV, Marilyn.....None of us could have prepared for the days to follow. Welcome to the Twilight Zone. She wasn't exactly what we were expecting. She was very excited to have us for the next few days, and she talked A LOT, and was a bit scatter-brained. Marilyn is an Education Volunteer and she teaches Math and Life Skills at the secondary school in her village. She is 61 years old, she doesn't speak Swahili, and it is my personal belief that she has gone a bit mad. I wish that I could express my experience through these words, but there is no way that you can fully understand the extent of crazy that I have endured for the past few days. But she was very welcoming and happy to have us. We took a taxi back to Marilyn's village. Njombe is completely different from the Tanzania that I have seen thus far. It's up in the mountains and it was freezing. It was probably about 40 to 50 degrees and really windy. On the way to the house, the road was lined with miles of dead corn fields surrounded by forests of tall pine trees. I couldn't believe I was still in Africa. The next day, we went to church with Marilyn in the morning, and then we got to help her teach a life skills session. Ironically the session was about effective communication, and I've never had a harder time understanding anybody in my life to be honest. But it was fun to get to work with the kids. Even the people here are very different from what I'm used to in Kilulu. The kids were very shy and it was almost difficult to get them to talk to us at times. Meanwhile, in Kilulu there are always kids talking and singing in my face. It was so bizarre! Later that day, we got a chance to test out our cooking skills. Marilyn's house is so different from what I'm used to or what I was expecting. It was huge and the walls were attached to the ceiling so that there weren't any critters coming in at night. She had a courtyard behind the house, and her water came right out of a faucet right there! No need to go fetch water every day from the well! She even gets electricity from 7 to 10 every night! She's living the high life.
So, for dinner,we decided we would make pizza, pasta, and a salad. Marilyn had bought a huge block of delicious mozzarella the day before! We cooked on a kerosene stove, a charcoal stove, and over a wood fire. We baked the pizza and the cake in a couple of pots that we basically turned into a dutch oven. We had to work hard for this meal, but we knew it would be worth it in the end. Everything takes so long to cook and there is so much more work that goes into cooking out here. But we were successful! And the chocolate cake was so delicious that we decided it was necessary bake it again the next night. Blair would have been proud of my extreme baking skills. Who needs an oven anyways? The food was great, but on top of that we discovered that Marilyn had a bucket of wine in her kitchen. "I'm sorry what did you say?....You have a bucket of wine in your kitchen that you made yourself three weeks ago?....Where is it and why aren't we drinking it?" She made the wine with pineapple, passion fruit, mango and banana, and it was delicious. That wine was literally our saving grace this week. I don't think the three of us would have survived our shadow without it.
The next day we got up early to introduce ourselves at the morning assembly at the school. It was freezing!! I can't believe how cold and windy it is up here. We met the headmaster of the school and introduced ourselves to all of the students. This school was much bigger and nicer than the one in Kilulu. The students live in dorms at the school. We walked into one of the dorm rooms to take a look. It was just a huge room filled with about 20 bunk beds jammed together. The students all sleep two to a bed, which looked about the size of a twin bed, and then they keep a trunk of their belongings under the bed. Everyday they line up outside the kitchen with their plastic bowls and cups to get their food. After the assembly that day, they couldn't start class right away because they had to go out to the school farm to collect corn. The school schedule didn't seem very structured and walking around, there were even a number of classroom full of students but there was no teacher. The classrooms were just huge rooms filled with small wooden desks all pushed together and a large chalkboard up front. There are probably about 50 students in a classroom at a time. We got a chance to visit the staff room and talk with the other teachers a bit. There are 700 students at the school and 10 teachers. They teach classes for English, Math, History, Geography, Swahili, and Civics.
After school, we returned home for a bit before heading to the village soccer field. There was a game that day between the students and the teachers and Tyler and JP had been invited to play with the teachers. Girls don't get to play soccer. Instead I got to watch them with Marilyn who continued to ramble on and talk my ear off. But I got some good pictures of the guys trying to keep up with the Tanzanians. The game ended up being a tie at 2-2. Later we returned home and got things ready for dinner. We decided that we had had a long trying day with Bibi (Marilyn) that day and we needed to keep working on the bucket of wine. I made some pasta sauce using tomatoes, garlic, onion, some seasoning, and a can of V8, and we ate the leftover pasta. It turned out pretty good actually. And of course we baked the chocolate cake again. We were all drinking bucket wine all night. Even Marilyn started to get a little tipsy. We got tot talking and laughing, and eventually somehow the boys decided that they needed haircuts and I would be the one to do it. "Of course, I can cut your hair for you. I've only been drinking bucket wine for the past 4 hours and its only pitch black outside. Sounds like a great idea!" So we proceeded to the courtyard. I put on my head lamp and began to cut JP's hair in the darkness of the night as he sipped on his glass of bucket wine. I gave him a good trim and then it was Tyler's turn. Surprisingly nobody was injured during this exercise, and the hair cuts weren't too shabby. I may have a future as a drunken hair stylist. After we decided that we weren't going to make it to the bottom of the bucket that night (and after Tyler fell asleep mid conversation in his chair) we figured it was time for bed. We said goodnight to Marilyn, and the three of us piled into the other bed and I read The Hobbit to the guys as they drifted off into a deep bucket wine sleep. I was soon to follow. It was such a fun night. The next morning, we all woke up and Tyler asked "What happened last night!? Wait, you cut our hair and then read The Hobbit to us?! We're staying with a crazy lady in the middle of this weird village in Tanzania where its freezing?! What's going on?"
So my shadow experience started out a bit painful, but proved to be a great time. Solution to problem: cook up a good batch of bucket wine, and have some good friends handy.

Before leaving for shadow last week, we had our site announcements!! It was very exciting and the whole day I couldn't wait to find out where I would be living! I got assigned to the Mtwara region in south eastern Tanzania. I will be living and working in the village of Nanjota, which is in the Masasi District. I don't know much about it yet, but I will be able to ask Ellegard more questions when I get back to Muheza from my shadow. I am really excited! I will be working in a new site. There hasn't been a volunteer living there before. My house is about half a kilometer from the secondary school. I can't wait to find out more. This past week we have just continued with technical training sessions at MATI. I have learned more about tree identification, and the different uses for certain trees. I learned how to make natural pesticides, and fertilizer with one tree. We learned about one tree called Mwarobaini, which means 40 because it has about 40 different uses. Parts of it can be used as medicine, to filter water, its entirely edible and incredibly nutritious. It's an awesome tree!
My host family is doing really well. I can't believe how quickly time has gone by and soon I will have to leave them. This Sunday we have a village party to see everyone before we leave for site, which will be fun. I think that's all the news I have for right now. Hope everyone is doing well at home1 Wish me luck so that I survive the 16 hour bus ride back to Muheza!

Life's a Garden. Double Dig that Shit!

Last week was amazing! So busy and overwhelming, but I loved every moment. It's crazy how many new things I learn every single day here. When I think about a day at home compared to each day here, its remarkable how much I learn every day. we planted our permagarden at the primary school in Kilulu last Tuesday. That was my favorite day. The day before, we had a meeting with the teachers to discuss our approach and how the kids could help. We were a little worried because we were having to come up with a lot of the materials ourselves. So we asked the teachers to relay the message to the kids. We knew we were going to need a lot of water, manure, and some seedlings to transplant. After, we were all feeling a bit stressed, as our language skills are still limiting, but also really excited to teach these kids about sustainable farming.
The next morning we gathered outside the primary school with the teachers. The students all stood in their lines. They all wear white button down shirts and navy shorts for the boys and long skirts for the girls. My fellow trainees and I get a chance to give an energetic "Mambo!" to the kids and introduce ourselves. As we were waiting for all the kids to gather in front of the school, it is unbelievable the amount of materials they have brought with them. Every kid had something in his/her hand. Everyone had either brought a bucket of water, or a baggie of manure to school with them that day. And there were so many transplants, we couldn't even use them all! It was awesome! They were all so excited, and they really came through for the garden. After the students dispersed to their classrooms, we got to explain the concept of the garden to the fifth grade class, who would e primarily helping us. Of course Big Boy was there for a bulk of the translation. We explained why we were here in Tanzania, and why this garden was going to be a sustainable source of food/income/learning experience for all of them. When, Big Boy was finished with the explanation, I was chosen as the representative for our CBT to say a few words directly to the class. I'm not gonna lie...considering I've been here about 5 weeks, my Swahili's pretty good :) So I tell the kids that we are really excited to be workingwith them today and thanked them so much for all of their enthusiasm. But one point I wanted to emphasize to them was that we weren't making this garden for them. We wanted to help them make this garden for themselves. I wanted them to understand this was their garden, they own it, and they can take care of it and benefit from it, so that when we leave, it will continue to grow. They were all very excited and before we headed over to the land, they all stood up and sang a song for us in Swahili. They love to sing here, and a lot of the learning exercises involve songs. I didn't know what the song meant at the time, but later I found out it was actually an AIDS awareness song that they had learned.
So we head to the plot of land we had chosen for the garden. All the kids grab their manure baggies, transplants, and buckets. We put some watoto to work clearing the area of all the weeds. This didn't take long because every kid anted to get their hands on a jembe and get to work. Once the area was clear, we measured where the berms of the garden would be as well as the swale and the beds. We wold be planting in the berms and the beds of the garden. Part of what we learned for permaculture is the technique of "double digging." Double digging involves loosening the top soil of the entire area, and then going back and digging the beds and berms where you will be planting again. While we dig, we mix in manure and pieces of charcoal with the soil. This technique allows for more oxygen and nutrients within the soil, and it allows roots to go deeper within the earth. All of these factors allow for bigger stronger plants which produce more food. Hence, the necessity for the double dig. However, double digging is hard work. Especially when dealing with soil that's as hard as rock. But these kids were born and raised in Kilulu and they don't mess around. A few of the older boys jumped in with their jembes and that garden was double dug in no time flat. Its also worth mentioning that they did all of this digging in their school shoes and uniforms, which I'm sure are some of the nicest clothes they have. I definitely did a lot of digging myself, but it was important for the kids to make this garden themselves and learn these techniques. After we were done with the digging and mixing of the soil, we began to plant. In the beds, we planted corn, beans, cow peas, tomatoes, and mchicha, which is like an African spinach. In the berms, we planted lemongrass, aloe vera, sweet potatoe greens, which are incredibly nutritional, as well as a couple of banana and papaya trees. It was really amazing to see the progress of the garden throughout the day. All of the children from the school would filter back and forth throughout the day, and everyone had their hands in the dirt. It was quite a site to see them all in their white shirts and blue shorts lining the berms on their knees with theirhands in the soil. I think they all had a really good time and they learned a lot. Later, we asked a few of the kids if the volunteers who lived in Kilulu last year were different, and they quickly said yes. We asked "Why?" And they said, "They didn't teach us permagardening." It was a great day, and the kids have since built a fence around the garden all on their own so that the kukus(chickens) don't get in there to eat everything. Things are already sprouting! Can't wait to come back and visit next year and eat some of the food from the garden. That would be so cool.
The next day, we had a training day at MATI with the rest of the trainees. This day was a stressful one for us all because we had our mid-training Kiswahili written tests and oral interviews. Rahema was my interviewer and she was very nice and I really wasn't too stressed out about it, but I guess I don't get easily stressed. The night before the interview, I had my Mama explain to me the steps of cooking chapati. Big Boy told us we should know how to explain at least one recipe in Swahili, and I figured chapati was something I would like to know how to make for my self anyway. No sense in learning how to make ugali. Blegh! So Mama was very patient with me and helped me memorizee the words for the mixing and the rolling, etc. For the interview, I definitely made sure I worked chapati into the conversation and then mentioned "Oh would you like me to tell you how to make chapati? Oh ok." She was quite impressed and responded with a "Safi sana Cameroon." We got our results this week and I was one of six trainees to score an Intermediate High level. Asante sana Mama. She and Baba were ery proud.
After the interview, I had a meeting with Ellegard. Ellegard is the Associate Peace Corps Director for the Environmental sector, and he will basically be my boss once I'm sworn in as a Volunteer. He decides site placement, so had some questions about preferences. I'm so excited to find out where my volunteer site will be for the next two years, but as of right now I have no idea. I told him that I have no agenda. There isn't one project in particular that I'm looking to achieve here in Africa. I want to just go live some where and assess the needs of that village and see how I can help. I'm easy, put me anywhere! I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing, but I guess I'll find out soon enough. He said that I had the right attitude, and that an open mind is a really good thing to have. It's not a good idea to get your heart set on a certain project, and try to force it onto a village that isn't interested. It's important to listen to the villagers to find out what they need. So that made me feel a lot better about my state of mind.
After the long anticipated oral interview, we finally had a vacation weekend! Last weekend we all got to go to Pangana as a group. We stayed at a nice bungalow hotel that is actually owned by a previous PCV and her husband. It was really nice to get away for a bit. I love my family, but this away time was necessary. This place was beautiful. I shared a bungalow with my friend, Jen. There was a shower in our room! As a group, we pretty much filled up the whole place, so it waslike our own private resort for the weekend. There was a pool an bar. THE FOOD WAS AMAZING. For breakfast, there was granola, and milk, and cheese, and fruits....oh my god. Oh, and did I mention it's on the beach too? Ya, we had our own private strip of beach. I spent all day in the Indian Ocean. I went swimming and kayaking twice. It was awesome. We also got to play some beach volleyball. This is why I refused to sit in front of a computer for two hours on Sunday, so I'm sorry, but life was calling!
So needless to say, we were all pretty sad to leave after a couple of days, but I was also excited to see my family again. And it seemed like they were very excited to see me too. Mama said she wants me to teach her how to swim. Unfortunately, that weekend wasn't quite as much fun for my friend, Becca, who had a nasty spider bite on her hand. Her hand turned into a balloon and she had to go into town to the Tanga Regional Hospital, after which she forwarned us to never get sick in Tanzania. They weren't able to do much more for her than give her a couple of incredibly painful shots in the buttocks, so she had to go into Dar to be looked at. She's still there, but is doing a lot better, and hopefully will be returning to Kilulu later today. We miss her immensely!....We still don't know exactly what bit her, but I make a point to tuck my mosquito net in thoroughly now before bedtime.
This week, the training has gotten more intense. We've been at MATI almost everyday. We had a training session of soil erosion, as well as starting tree nurseries and tree grafting. It sounds like a tree nursery would be a great first project to try. Often they can be used as income generating projects for different groups like women or OVC (Orphans and Vulnerable Children).
We had another coulple of village meetings this week. The first was with a number of village leaders. We split the group between men and women. We drew up a seasonal calendar, which included the rainy season, harvest season, season of lowest income,etc. They also drew up community maps of Kilulu, to map out things like waater sources, farms, schools, etc. And then we asked some daily activity questions to each group, including which diseases are most frequent here, what opportunities are there for women, etc. The purpose of the meeting was to find out more about our village and come up with a village analysis and project assessment. This is something we will have to do at our volunteer site as an exercise to find suitable projects to focus on. One area of interest in Kilulu is the lack of medical resources and health education that is here. During our permagarden, we had a chance to talk with the head master of the school about the health education there, which was a good indicator ofthe poor quality of knowledge the kids are getting. When asked about HIV/AIDS education, she said that they make sure to teach the kids not to share food at school because they may get infected. Not only is the edcation lacking, but there is only one health center on the outskirts of Kilulu, so many people aren't being tested. Previously, the villagers had given us an eestimation of 32 infected people, but I really don't know how reiable that statement can be. We also had a meeting with the out of school youth of Kilulu, during which we asked about HIV/AIDS. They said that in the past there have been mobile testing centers that come through the village, but even then people don't get tested because they just don't want to know. They think that if they are sick, they will die sooner if they know that they have AIDS. Also there is the stigma and discrimination that comes along with those affected by AIDS.
All of our discussions of integration have included the incredibly strong collective attitude that is present in Tanzania. America is so opposite in its individualism and solitary livelihood, and in Tanzania, the community is the whole. Your village is your family, and your responsibility. Everyone helps each other out, no questions asked. Yet, when it comes to getting themselves tested, and protecting the rest of the community from illness, this just doesn't happen. At the end of our meeting with the village youth Paul, one of the trainees, introduced this concept of how remarkable the sense of community is here and how things aren't that way in America. And then he asked them why they take care of each other in so many other respects, yet they don't get tested and potentially foster more sickness within the community. I think he made a really good point and that his question was really effective ingetting them to think about taking better care of each other in more ways than one.
Yesterday was another MATI day, and an exciting one too. Next week we get to go shadow current volunteers for a few days and i found out that I will be travelling all the way down to the Southern Highlands, to the Njombe region. We are all being pretty well spread out. I'm staying with Greta, a current health volunteer living down there. I am so excited! It will definitely be a long, bumpy, all day (and night) bus ride, but I've heard its beautiful and I can't wait to go see another part of the country. After we get back, we find out our sites, and then there's just one more week until swearing in! I can't believe how quickly that came.
Thanks so much to all of you for the many letters and packages I got at MATI yesterday. I felt very popular, and it was so good to hear stories and get updates from home. I really appreciate it and it means a lot to me. Thank you so so much!! Mom, Baba Mgumi loves his harmonica!
Guess what?! I have a phone! Amazing! My number is : 788819368. I think if you want to call me, you dial 255 788819368 (I think). Calling cards are a great cheap way to call an you can get them online. Or I've heard that you can call or text through Skype and texting me in Tanzania with Skype is actually cheaper than texting me in America. Reception sucks sometimes, but hopefully I can hear some familiar voices again soon. Once again here's my address as well if you missed it:

Cameron Bradley
P.O. Box 9123
Dar es Salaam,
Tanzania

**You can mail me here for the next 3 weeks, and as soon as I know my new address I will post it!

I think that's all I got for now. I'm not sure where I'll be next Sunday so don't know if I'll be able to post, but keep checking! If not, hopefully I'll be able to update the week after. Hope all is well at home!

Mimi si Mzungu! Ninaitwa Camerooon!

"Mzungu", meaning "white person" or "foreigner", is a word that I've come to know all to well. Every morning walking to school is like my own personal parade. Just smile and wave, smile and wave. Greetings are a huge deal in Tanzania and will often go on for a number of minutes. Hi, how are you? I'm great how's your morning? oh good? how's your house today? Great! How are you feeling today? Good! etc etc. And for many of the greetings the responses are "Safi! Poa! Freshi!" These all translate to "Cool! Clean! Fresh!" which I find ironic since I've never been around so many people who couldn't be further from fresh and clean... So it takes me a bit longer to get to school. But I'm hearing mzungu less and less as the children know my name and at least attempt to say it. Everyone seems to have a hard time with it, and usually I'll end up with Kim, or Karen, or Kemlen. So, I've simply began introducing myself as Cameroon, so they know what I'm saying. Even Big Boy addresses me as Cameroon now in class.
Kiswahili class is going really well. We have our mid-training OPI (Oral Proficiency Interview) on Friday and I'm kind of nervous. I've been here for about a month and as of right now my language skills should be equivalent to two semesters of language back home. I can't believe how quickly its going.
Every day at school we have a break for chai and we go to the neighboring mud hut, where the Mama sells chai and chapati for about 200 shillings. We've dubbed it our "chai-bucks", and now we're noticing more and more of the small mud huts around town. I told my group, "Man there's a chai-bucks on every corner of this village. This is just rediculous!"
I'm not sure that I ever gave a recap of my Tanzanian family members. I have a much better understanding of the language now, and thus have a better understanding of which children are actually living with me. There's Mama Mwanaidi and Baba Mgumi. Baba is a farmer. Mama has 5 kids, and the first couple of days Dada Asha was around, but I guess she and her children were only visiting. There is one older Kaka Njema, who doesn't live with us. And then actually living in the house is Dada Mainda, who is 14 years old and she works as a seamstress. And then there's Kaka Dula, who is 11 years old, and he goes to school. And finally my little Dada Edith, or Eddie, as I like to call her. She is about 3 and a half years old and rediculously adorable. Eddie and I always "help" Mama cook dinner after school.
My pie baking skills came in handy the other day as I was helping Mama make "chapati", which is basically a glorified African tortilla, consisting of wheat flour, coconut water, and tons of oil. I helped role out the dough and fry it, and tried to explain apple pie in my broken Swahili. I don't know if they got it, but they were impressed with my rolling skills. I also made use of my braiding skills the other day. I braided Mainda's hair for her into what was as close to corn rows as she was going to get from me. While the braids were pretty good, I lent Mainda my small mirror to take a look and she responded with a "good try." When I came home later, Mama had redone them and they were smaller and much better. What can I say, my braiding skills are not quite up to par with these ladies.
The other day after school, the group tried to get together to play some cards and relax. Normally after school, I go straight home to help cook, or do some other chores. We didn't realize how much of an ordeal our "playday" was going to be. I feel like I'm 11 years old again. My Mama had many questions about where I'd be going, when I'd be back, who was going to be there? She had to walk me over to Paul's house to meet everyone, which is literally a stone throw away, and she made sure that I'd be returning before dark. Meanwhile as my Mama is holding my hand to cross the road, there are mobs of 5 year old kids running around the village with machetes. I don't know who or where these parents are, but for the most part kids take care of themselves around here as soon as they are able to walk it seems like. Yet, Kilulu needs to hold a village meeting if the 5 white kids wanna play some cards.
We actually did get to attend a village meeting this week for class. We had to give ourselves a short introduction in Kiswahili, and then we got to ask some questions to learn more about the history and community of Kilulu. We opened the meeting with an energetic "Kilulu Ju!!", which is kind of like a rally call for the village. There were about 20 village leaders, and they were mostly all old men. I didn't get really nervous until my Mama walked into the meeting. But I introduced myself and talked about why I had come to Tanzania, and thanked them all for being at the meeting that day. It was a really good exercise to be able to practice the language as well as learning more about how Kilulu functions, how many kids attend/don't attend school, what crops are grown here, what diseases are prevalent, how many people have AIDS, etc. We learned that there is no official record when or how the village was established, there are no health centers in Kilulu, there is an estimated 32 people infected with AIDS, there are a number of crops grown here, and that a good amount of the girls who actually do attend the primary school don't go on to secondary school.
During the meeting we were able to present an idea we came up with. Each training group is required to make a permagarden at their villages to practice and learn more about the process. We decided that we wanted to do ours at the local primary school in Kilulu and have the kids take it on as a learning project and then after we leave the school could maintain it and take ownership of the garden. Hopefully it will serve as a good food source for the kids at school, as well as a way to educate the younger generation about sustainable farming techniques, which they can then pass on to their parents. The village leaders were very supportive of the idea and said that the school and the kids would be very excited about the project. We start working on Tuesday and I can't wait! I'm really excited, but we'll see how efficiently we can manage all of these watoto (children) in Swahili.
After the the meeting we had a chance to converse with some of the village leaders for a bit. Luckily my Mama was there to support me throughout my conversations. She said I spoke very well, and that she was happy that we did such a great job at the meeting. I'm trying to talk to one of the village leaders, but he talks so fast that I have a hard time understanding. Every time he finishes a statement, I look to my Mama for the "Cameron translation" and I understand her perfectly every time. Mama knows that she needs to speak to me as if I were a 5 year old who's a bit slow, and then I'll know what you're saying. Apparently, this man had asked me how old I was, which of course was immediately followed by the question of whether or not I was married. Before the Mama translation I didn't realize what he was asking and I said yes, at which point my Mama quickly corrected me.
We also got to take a trip to Tanga this week. Tanga is the nearest major city, so it was definintely a culture shock within itself to travel there from our quaint little village. We had to board a cramped daladala to get there. We got to exchange some money, hunt for cell phones, and get what was as close to an American meal as we were going to find. Walking around, I knew I was coming up on a bank when I saw the men in uniform with massive shotguns pacing the building. We found a couple phone shops, where there were literally only 5 phones in the shop and they were all locked behind glass cases. There was a man with a gun outside the phone shop as well. I came upon a solar power phone and decided that given the available amenities and the local environment, a solar powered phone would be great investment. However, there was only one to be found in all of Tanga. So I'm holding out until next week when they will get some more in the store. We stopped to get some food and I saw the word PIZZA on the menu and decided to take my chances and gamble on a Tanzanian pizza. What I ate would probably be considered closer to a shepherd's pie than anything else. There were peas on the pizza, the marinara sauce was replaced by mashed potatoes, and don't even get me started on the sorry excuse for cheese that topped off this "pizza". It wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but you know what, it was something different for a change.
Another thing I noticed more of in Tanga were the men holding hands. Women and men can't touch in public. Some women can't even show their faces in public. Homosexuality is illegal. Yet, if two men are walking down the street and talking, it isn't uncommon for them to be holding hands for the duration of the conversation. I'm still trying to get used to all that. All throughout training, the Peace Corps staff has referred to poor conduct or appearance as "notorious behavior". They always say "notorious" when they're talking about behavior that is disrespectful, permiscuous, etc. So now, whenever something slightly questionable happens, we all start singing "Notorious!" My kanga blew up the other day and my bare naked knee was exposed for all the world to see! "No-No-Notorious!" Becca and I had a gin and juice at the "bar" last weekend....because well, we needed it....Notorious! But really though, I haven't been acting seriously notorious. I promise.
On Friday we went to MATI and met up with the rest of the trainees for a day of class there. I heard some interesting stories from the other villages. Apparently, one of the trainee's Mamas is an actual witch doctor, who exorcises spirits and such. He got to attend some event with chanting, and he said she started foaming at the mouth. It sounded intense, but really interesting. However I'm glad that my Mama isn't a witch doctor.
Yesterday was our Sports and Games Day! We went to the village of Lusanga to meet the rest of our group. I got to play volleyball, frisbee, and some soccer with what seemed like a hundred watoto. It was really fun, and a nice break from what turned out to be a very busy week for me. Before the games started, there was a group of 3 boys and 1 girl who did some dancing to welcome us. They were amazing, jumping around, flipping, doing the splits, stacking chairs and doing handstands. There were a few guys playing the drums for them the whole time they were jumping around. After they were done, we all got in the circle and tried to do some dancing, which we of course failed in comparison, but we still had a lot of fun.
I think that's all I got for this week. I hope that everyone back at home is doing well and having a great summer! I miss you all and hopefully I'll get to talk to you soon. I got my first letter from home this week and it made my day. I was so happy! Thank you CJ! I can't wait to come back next week with some new tales to tell!