23 Feb: The Daladala

The minibus (daladala) which takes you to Iringatown usually arrives between 6 and 630. Seeing as how nothing here seems to be on time (when you ask someone when something starts, a common reply is "4 oclock, Africa time" which means it will start anytime between 430 and 6), you can imagine our surprise hearing the bus roll by at about 545. We ran to catch it and did, securing a halfway decent seat. The ride into town was no sweat, as smooth a ride in the daladala one can get (really unsmooth).

We arrived in Iringatown and immediately headed in the wrong direction, wisely having decided to part ways with the one person on the bus we knew, Pius. Upon having doubled back finally, we had an incredible chance encounter with one of only two Iringans we know, Ayobu, who said he would meet us later at the internet cafe. After two infuriating hours of browser freezing and slow loading, it was on to the post office and a hotel restaurant for lunch. The steak tasted ok, but was tough enough such that my gums are now swollen.

To reach the pick-up spot for the daladala we had to take a different minibus. It seated 18, but we somehow got 25-30 people inside. We arrived at the pick-up point too late for a good seat, and I ended up in the back row (seats four) with four other people. Along with the supplies that were placed on my feet, I pretty much couldnt move. The daladala seats 23, and this time we had 45 people packed in. I began having serious doubts over my ability to survive this trip. The bus seemed to be leaning heavily to the left for the entire ride (a notion later confirmed by Brayn) and my inability to readjust myself made for one of the more sore left cheeks Ive ever had. Im proud to say I only really came close to a mental breakdown once, but my hatching an escape plan out the window eased the tension. The panic can only be compared to the feeling of relief when three hours after the ride began, the school came into view. We unloaded our things as it began to rain, but it was good to just be in the open space.

The rest of the night went something like this: read, eat, read, sleep.

Inset: the smooth road for the daladala

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22 Feb: Happy Hour Part II

I did my bones lesson with the other Form III class today and they definitely enjoyed it. Other than that one class, most of the day was spent in the office preparing lessons, reading, and inventing games with the deflated soccer ball. Since Simon and Godfried have joined us in our office, we havent had the opportunity to continue with these games as much, which is a shame.

By the time late afternoon rolled around, we figured it was time we paid another visit to the local tavern/store/mudhut. Accompanied by Mr. Kilinga, we brought six 50 mL bottles of rum with us, courtesy of Brayn's family liquor store (airplane safe!). I sat in the corner seat, which I have now decided is in fact my seat akin to Norm's stool, and we ordered some Cokes to go with the run. While Mr. Kilinga was raving about the booze, the usual buzz that follows us around the village had begun to gather strength outside the store. The store owner, and biggest man Ive met here, came in and had a seat. It was quite apparently this was seen as a bold move. Upon learning who he was through Mr. Kilinga, we offered him one of the bottles of rum. He took a sip, practically leapt out of his seat, went out the door and shouted something involving the word "wazungu." He soon returned with his father (another rum gone) who is one of these older people in the village who are clearly excited about being around the foreigners, but hold back the excitement (this of course in stark contrast to the mobs of children who come running at the site of us). In any case, these older folk are definitely my favorite people to meet. Within a few minutes we were also joined by a teacher from the nearby primary school (wearing glasses akin to those worn by the witness in My Cousin Vinnie), a village elder, and the shopkeepers brother Charles, who spoke English fairly well. He explained he had learned to do so in the army, but he also clearly had some neurotic tendencies, quite possibly coming from the same source. Needless to say, he got the last rum. They were aking the usual questions about our home (weather, farming, what we think the biggest differences are, etc.), and somewhere along the way Charles started going on about how it sounds different when we speak English compared to theirs. He was saying how instead of "water" with a well-pronounced "t," we say "wada," sounding very much like an Upper East-Sider. My explanation of how it was the same with Kiswahili, where Ill say "hujambo" or "sijambo" overpronouncing each letter, theyll just lazily say "jam..." drew forth giggles and giddy, spastic hand clapping from the shopkeeper. This was my first joke that was genuinely well-received by Tanzanians since Ive been here, and it felt good. It somehow made me feel all the more assimilated, a little less like a visitor. Every seat was filled (all eight of the plastic lawn chairs), children were peeking through the window as usual, and by now even the adults are sneaking galnces in the doorway. An idea struck the storekeepers father and he hurriedly left the room, quickly returning with roasted maize (corn) for Brayn and me. This was probably a big deal. "We are all people" he said through Mr. Kilinga.

Poetry.

On our way out, Mr. Kilinga had to go to the bathroom, which he referred to as a "short call." Brayn and I agreed we need to take that terminology home with us.

When we returned to the school, the skies were clear enough to break out the astronomy textbook we found in the library, and we spent the next thirty minutes or so picking out constellations with some students, aided by our flux-powered flashlight (that can or cannot help us travel through time, we are still investigating this). Today was a good day.

Insets: Us with the storekeeper and a friend kneeling in front of us, us with Charles between us, us ruining a fantastic picture of a village elder and the storekeepers father, and us with our maize (corn).

If this is your first time here, please be sure to read the first entry on this site. Thank you.

Bonus!

[Verse 1:]
I hear the drums echoing tonight
But she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation
She's coming in twelve-thirty flight
Moonlit wings reflect the stars that guide me towards salvation
I stopped an old man along the way
Hoping to find some old forgotten words or ancient melodies
He turned to me as if to say
Hurry boy, it's waiting there for you

[Chorus:]
Gonna take a lot to drag me away from you
There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do
I bless the rains down in Africa
Gonna take some time to do the things we never had

Wild dogs cry out in the night
As they grow restless longing for some solitary company
I know that I must do what's right
Sure as Kilimanjaro rises like Olympus above the Serengeti
I seek to cure what's deep inside
Frightened of this thing that I've become

[Repeat chorus]

[Instrumental break]

Hurry boy, she's waiting there for you

[Repeat chorus]

I bless the rains down in Africa [x6]


Yep. Listened to that about twenty times by now. Its our theme song. Obviously. Did you know that Toto was the back-up band for "We are the World?"

21 Feb: Potential

Finally some human biology. I taught movement and bones to Form III today. I asked Brayn to come to the class, and I had students label his skeleton with post-its. Some students told me they enjoyed the lesson. Nice.

My Form II class was cancelled because there is a blood drive today. Ive really been pushing this in my classes for a couple days, and of course Mr. Kisava had me say a few words to the student body before everything started. Im happy to say that many students are currently volunteering, whereas before they were extremely apprehensive.

The school has a new library. Its amazing. There are boxes of books stacked to the ceiling, and chairs and talbe to accommodate many students. There is one problem: the boxes are unopened. Its driving Brayn and me crazy. Perhaps the biggest problem in the school right now is a lack of resources, and here they are. There are textbooks from any and all subjects, from elementary to college level material. There are novels, religious books, any number of categories of nonfiction, and the only thing they need are shelves. And maybe a librarian. In any case, this library was overwhelming to see, especially after seeing the books that the students are currently using. This library needs to be operational as soon as possible.

We went to do some more work in the library when it began to rain. Brayn ran back to recover the solar battery and I stayed behind. The rain started coming down much harder. I had finished sorting when I noticed a young man and older woman seeking shelter beneath the overhang of the library roof so I invited them in. It turned out the they had just come from the dispensary and the woman had very sore feet. I got them a chair and they thanked me. I was stuck in the library for nearly an hour, and each time the rain would let up just enough to make a run for it, I was too apprehensive because of the mud. Also I have to lock the door behind me, and I cant force these people to leave (not just because its mean, but also I dont know how to say "get out" in Kiswahili). After shuffling a few more boxes around (I revealed a lizard after lifting one, and Im proud to not have earned the label of "the screaming wazungu"), and some reviewing of a genetics textbook, I was able to lock up and leave.

Since the ground was indeed mud-soaked, most of the rest of the day was dedicated to reading. Having consumed a solid portion of all three of my books, I decided to call this a productive day. I was also able to talk to Liz on our phone for ten minutes. Since Im feeling so much better, it was nice to talk to her about the trivial moments of daily life here, as opposed to the last call which seemed filled with desperation at the time.

I have come to enjoy exploring the chalkboards of empty classrooms in the evening. It gives me insight into what and how the students are studying and retaining. While on one of my evening gallivants, a student named Philimony came in and spoke with me. In his further studies he wants to pursue the sciences, and he told me that he and other students had been talking about how they had really enjoyed the lesson today. Due to my inability to describe so many of the experiences here, Ill just say that was really swell.

Ill put pictures in a separate post immediately above this one.

If this is your first time here, please be sure to read the first entry on this site. Thank you.

20 Feb: Assimilation

You can tell were spending more time in the office now, because these entries start to get longer. I had only one class today, form II. Better than the first time, but still a struggle. Having only one class leaves a lot of free time. This time is mostly filled with the invention of office games or reading. Anything but teaching (though we have made ourselves very accessible).

In the middle of the day we got it into our heads that it was time to start carrying things around on our heads. The women around here perform this task as a finely-tuned skill. No hands. Its unreal. Brayn and I walked down to the water pump (about a half-mile) and filled our buckets. We walked back ever so gingerly with the buckets on our heads, much to the delight of the local villagers. Two wazungus with buckets on their heads is apparently not an every day sight for them. When we got back to the school Mr. Kisava saw us passing and rushed out of his office to take a picture.

I had a pretty decent bowel movement this morning. Odd thing to discuss, you might say. However given the irregularity of these, it has become a frequent topic of conversation between me and Brayn. This morning was the most well-formed one Ive had since Ive been here, and I was able to get almost the whole thing right into that little hole, which is more satisfying that I can properly explain. Were both still waiting for that first really normal movement, solid and well-formed. We plan on having a "First Log" celebration when it happens. Rum, beef jerky, itll be wild.

For lunch we had perhaps the most complete meal weve had since being here, with all the food groups represented. Spaghetti noodles with some kind of delicious spicy sauce, ugali, beef, mango, and mystery greens. As far as Im aware, this is indeed all the food groups because as far as Im currently aware, dairy does not in fact exist here.

In recognition of our extreme need for exercise, we went down to the field (pitch) after class to kick the ball around. Some local kids, aged 5 to 10, joined in, as did Mr. Kisava and the headmaster of the neighboring government school. Everyone loves to play soccer (football) with the wazungus. Do they know the rules? Can they kick the ball? Do they have feet? It started to rain a bit, and as we were worried about the solar-powered contraption with which we power our iPods and such, we decided to jog it in. I had many excuses for why I was unable to make it the whole way. Its raining. Its slightly uphill. I just played some soccer. My shoes are improperly tied. These eventually broke down into my solemn realization of just how out of shape Ive gotten, particularly in the past couple weeks.

With the debate having been canceled (Wednesday is debate day) some time was freed up in the evening. Thank goodness, were so busy here. Two new teachers arrived this evening, young guys who just graduated named Simon and Godfried. Hoping to catch a stirring rendition of Bridge Over Troubled Water I ran out oddly fast to greet them. We had Cokes with dinner to celebrate their arrival. Seeing as how we eat dinner about one hour before going to bed, the caffeine should keep me up for another three hours and when I do fall asleep, wake me up to pee. Again, this is one of those Africa situations where you cant say no.

I started three books today. The Kite Runner, Crime & Punishment, and Johnny Trumain. Its been a big debate over which will get the nod for nighttime reading, but JT is looking to get the go ahead due to its larger print size. Its easier to see in the dark. I drifted asleep with visions of the founding fathers in my noodle, eagerly awaiting waking up in the middle of the night to stumble to the bathroom with my flux-powered flashlight.

Inset: Our office

If this is your first time here, please be sure to read the first entry on this site. Thank you.

19 Feb: Snuggle Up

Teaching Form III? Great. Form II? Not so much. I dont really know how to get past this language barrier, but right now I'm hoping the students and I just get used to listening to each other. Maybe if they had, you know, books.

We have told the students well be keeping office hours from now on as well, to keep us on task, doing our lesson plans, and of course be available for questions at specific hours. So far during our first office hours session Ive written in this journal, and weve played some volleyball with a deflated soccer ball across our desk ("So this is what working in an office is like" observes Brayn).

We went to watch the Form II vs Form III soccer (football) game. While the boys play soccer, the girls play netball. Apparently only girls play netball, which is annoying. Its a lot like basketball, and I think I might be halfway decent at this game, contrary to soccer. We spent some more time in the office after the games and a dinner of rice and beans. Were fed very well here, which makes me feel a little guilty. The students eat ugali and beans for two meals per day. Our meals consist of some combination of rice, beans, ugali, greens, peas, every so often some meat, and bananas). Usually two or three of these. I have never once heard a student complain about the food they receive, despite the meals being straight out of Oliver.

They also dont complain about their living conditions. 48 boys share a two-room dormitory. The rooms are packed with bunkbeds, and they sleep two per mattress (four per bunkbed). Most have a small trunk in which to keep their clothes. A wardrobe most often consists of school clothes, after school clothes, and sometimes a soccer outfit. They also have a bar for weightlifting. Its a metal rod with a paint can full of dirt attached to either side. The school is currently working on a new dorm which will house about one hundred boys, with six living in each room (twenty in the one larger room). However construction is currently halted due to lack of funding.

Insets: The boys dormitory, the new dormitory under construction, and two pictures at dinnertime in the mess hall.

If this is your first time here, please be sure to read the first entry on this site. Thank you.