In the Land of the Scorpion

After over 4 months of being in Tanzania, I have had the opportunity to experience many different sides of the Tanzanian culture. Adjusting to a new work environment with limited resources has been an interesting opportunity to attune my creative skills. I cannot say it enough for how much respect I have for all the teachers in my family and that I had during my time in school. It’s a different ball game there, but teaching is teaching. You do not know the pains of it until you actually experience it. Every day, I carry my blue bucket of demonstrations to each class. Although I teach everything in English, the students often have trouble understanding what is going on. Throughout their primary education, all their major topics were taught in the national language of Kiswahili. Once moving to Secondary School, the curriculum changes to entirely English. English is the third language for most of these students—after Kibena (the local vernacular tongue) and Kiswahili. Giving them something to look at and associate with what we are talking about has been very effective in bridging the language barrier. I was teaching about solutions, suspensions, and emulsions this week. I had can of American shaving cream that was quite foamy. I squirted a big mound in my hand and was amazed at my students reactions. They have never seen something like this. I think back to when I was in kindergarten, learning to write my letters in it. Its neat exposing the students to little things like this. I am learning something new each day on how to effectively run a classroom. I often times just think back to what worked for all the wonderful teachers I have had in the past. All you teachers out there, suggestions are welcome!

Some of my fellow teachers that travelled to the wedding.
Notice the chicken in a bag.

This past weekend, one of my fellow teachers invited me to his wedding.  I was eager and excited to attend my first wedding in Tanzania. I have come to notice how important weddings are here. Often, when you are invited to someone’s house, the first thing they will show you is the photo album of their wedding, or if you are lucky, you will get to watch the four hour ceremony in whole on video. A wedding constitutes a momentous occasion, just as it does in America. Everyone dresses in their best and people travel from afar to be in attendance.  Prior to the wedding day, our teacher staff was busy making arrangements for the gifts and transport to and from the event. When you attend an event such as this, it is customary that you pay a mchango (a voluntary gift or donation to a particular cause) to the hosting party. This money was then pulled together to purchase a gift, provide transportation for the eight of us that were heading to the wedding. Also, some of the money would be used to help offset the costs of food and other arrangements at the wedding. For this particular event, we each contributed 10,000 TSH.

The teachers arranged private transport to the event, which I was told would be ready to pick us up at 6:30am. I, being the punctual lad that I am, woke up at 5:30am to get myself ready and eat a good breakfast before the journey. I arrived at the school at 6:30 and I was the lone soldier. I mingled with students while they completed their morning chores and at around 7:00am, a few of teachers began to trickle into the school quarters. I asked a fellow teacher where the van was that was going to pick us up, and he said that there was a miscommunication and he forgot to come by. Our transportation did not forget though. He drove by the school with a van full of people that he was taking to town. So it goes here. It was fine though. Tanzanians are very loose with their time and they do not let these little things bother them. I hope this lack of punctuality is something that doesn’t rub off on me too much while I am here… Going with the flow of things is what this whole experience is about.

We began the two-hour journey to the village at around 8:30—all gifts in hand, including a live chicken. I knew Kongoma was remote, but the packed van rolling down the narrow, bumpy, dirt roads heightened my awareness of the depths of rural Africa I was heading into. We arrived in the arid region and were immediately greeted by a scorpion at our feet. The surrounding area differed much from the painted green, rolling hills of Njombe. On our walk from the village center to the church, I ran into some women whom were scooping water out of this hole in a dry riverbed. The quest for water is probably similar to this scene all over Africa and the world. I find myself seeing things like this all the time and each time it makes me realize how lucky we are in America.

The dry riverbed

A view of the village

Lutheran Church where the wedding took place.

The Best Man, The Groom (Mr. Mhanzi), The Bride, & Maid of Honor

We walked to the little church, which seemed to be on one of the higher points of the village.  The bride and groom were just entering the church. We followed them in and I was instructed to sit at the front in a chair nearby the bride and groom. I happily sat in the chair and had a good angle to snap some photos of the couple. (I think they may have strategically put me there). Anyway, during the service there was lots of singing, dancing, ceremonial vows, and signing of the marriage certificates. During the last portion of the service the Pastor started talking about the American sitting up front and how wonderful it was for all us to be gathered together no matter what our race, economic status, or creed. He then asked me to say a few words—in front of everyone. My heart began to pound as I nervously stepped to the front and greeted the group. I was lost for words and told the crowd that I was still learning Kibena and Kiswahili and I was nervous to speak in Swahili so I would say the rest in English and have a teacher translate. I am getting plenty of practice with my Kiswahili public speaking, but was caught quite off guard when asked to speak that day. A fellow volunteer and I were talking and we just need to start assuming that when we are invited to something, we will have to say something. All was well though and the people seemed to appreciate what I said. This was another one of those moments where I had to take a step and back and just realize where I was. It was probably a huge deal to that village that the American traveled out to attend the wedding. It was a great experience and an honor to be invited.

Outside the House

The compost pits

I have been busy working on the a few projects around the house. I just finished digging my holes for my compost pit, which will hopefully yield some good dark soil in the coming year. Next week, I am going to try and make arrangements with our school kitchen to collect some scraps or even start a compost area for the school. I had a really good conversation with the student government members last week about certain things they are interested in doing around the school. One such project that they just completed was a little salon building, where students can get cheap haircuts and part of the money will go to the school.

The fenced in portion of my garden. Check out that
handyman work

In addition to my compost project, I have been busy preparing my garden. I planted my corn this week, and next week I will finish planting some the seeds I have from America. I fenced in portion of my garden to keep the chickens from getting to all my goodies and tastes from home. One thing that I am missing here is the taste of summer sweet corn. Next year, I hope to get some seeds sent my way.  The neighbors are always interested in what I am doing outside. I attract more eyes wearing my classy cowboy hat. It’s one of the more practical items I brought with me.

My little Shamba

In The House

Cooking and boiling my water for the next day takes up a considerable amount of my time in the evenings after school. After finishing my outdoor chores, I fire up my charcoal Jiko and begin boiling my four liters of water for the next day. I have a thermos that holds about 2 liters water. This keeps the water piping hot for my morning bucket bath. I am sure I will slowly wean myself off the hot water, but its one of the little things that is nice to do for myself each day.

Prepping for some chili

PreWhile my water is boiling, I am busy prepping my food for my next creation in the kitchen. I have been learning to cut corners in my cooking by borrowing beans and rice to from school lunch. Each week we have rice once, but beans are in supply every day. These things make good additions to meals like the chili that I made this week. I took some to my neighbors and I was excited that they actually enjoyed it. My rice pudding was not too big of a hit. I have, however, found two things my neighbors enjoy—chips with old bay (french fries) and now chili. They are enjoying the tastes of Maryland. All we are missing is the Natty Boh on this side of the sea.

FInished chili

Some people have been asking about how I clean my clothes. Everything is done by hand here. I set up three basins—one to wash and two to rinse. Once my hands are raw from scrubbing for a couple hours, I hang my clothes out to dry. The real fun comes when I have to iron all my dress clothes with my handy charcoal iron. I am still learning the ins and out of it, but I should be an expert in no time.

One of my least favorite things to do here. My typical Sunday looks like this.

Forgot to take a picture of mine, but this is what it looks like. (Charcoal Iron)

That's all for now!

Siku Njema!