Mzungu

Peace Corps has three goals when invited to bring volunteers to a specific country. One goal is to provide services so that the citizens of the host country (in my case, Tanzania) are able to meet their needs of trained citizens. So, my teaching here is to help Tanzanians be better trained as to improve Tanzania. Another reason is to be a liaison between Americans and Tanzania. For example, when I write about Tanzania on this blog or in a letter or on the phone, etc., I am most likely providing insight into Tanzanian culture for you. Maybe you never heard of Tanzania before me coming here, maybe you had a preconceived belief about this country or even continent and through my blog you now understand Tanzania much better. Lastly, the other goal then is just the opposite – it’s for me to be an ambassador of the USA while here in Tanzania. You know, grassroots internationalization and all that. I provide the villagers, students, and teachers with an opportunity to learn about Americans and to directly teach about American values. A lot of people take their jobs to provide trained citizens most seriously. As a teacher, it’s hard to gauge your impact. However, after my trip to Kigoma, I think I can seriously say that Peace Corp’s impact on Tanzania is greater than I would normally have suspected.  Most of the western part of Tanzania does not have any Peace Corps volunteers. It was very noticeable for me that the Tanzanians in the western part were so surprised not only to see me, but that I live here and speak some Swahili. In Njombe, Tanzanians are so accustomed to seeing foreigners. Rarely do I get blatantly ripped off for being white or do people talk about me assuming I don’t speak Swahili nor do I have adults point and say mzungu! (white person). In the west, I was constantly asked for money, constantly labeled as “white person” (I mean which I am, but can you imagine pointing at a different person in America and saying “Asian!” or “Black person!?”).  Actually, this bothers a lot of volunteers here. It doesn’t bother me as much (probably because in Japan I was always labeled as “alien!”), but it got really annoying after weeks of it. In Njombr, I can brush it off…especially when children say it (how do they know any better?), or I tell people not to call me white person, but to call me mama or sister like they would call their Tanzanian women. But, after a while in Kigoma…I wanted to say shut up! So, I can happily say now that I really feel like Peace Corps is making a large difference working as a grassroots internationalization organization where volunteers are commonly placed. Sometimes it’s fun feeling like Britney Spears with everyone watching, pointing, and talking about. But, I think it’s greater when people accept me as their friend or neighbor even though I’m very different from them (and want to know why I am the way I am!).

Wild, wild west

For our two week vacation that we had, we planned to visit the west of Tanzania. The west feels like the wild, wild west for us because it takes us so long to get there. Also, there aren’t any Peace Corps volunteers that way and so we really needed to rely on the very outdated Lonely Planet guide.

Using this map above of Tanzania, you can see Njombe nearby where Jon and I work. We went to Kigoma in the western part of Tanzania. Although it appears that it’s just a straight shot northwest of Njombe, the unfortunate part is there is not a  road that goes that way. What this means is we needed to take a 12 hour bus ride to Morogoro (not on map, but basically where you can see the word Rufiji). I will admit to you now the thing that I hate the most about Tanzania: buses. There is no such thing as a good bus, at best you might get a bus that is bearable to travel in. Why do I hate buses so badly? Well, at a later date, you might find my in-progress list of 101 reasons why I hate Tanzanian buses. I currently have 40 reasons listed.
Anyway, so 12 hours later, we get to Morogoro which is a familiar city for us because that’s where we did our training. The goodluck Gods just weren’t with me that day. Jon and I tried two guesthouses and they were booked. At this point it was dark and a good 25 minute walk to the main road. We decided to stay in the worst guesthouse I have ever stayed in here in Tanzania. For a whopping $2.50 USD per night, I guess I can’t expect much.
The next day when we were supposed to catch our bus to Kahama – a city that is about another 13-14 hours away, we were finally informed of the bad news. After waiting at the bus stand for nearly 4 hours, the bus company told us our bus was in an accident and it would not be coming that day. Awesome. So, we had to spend another night in Morogoro at not as gross of a guesthouse but a very loud one.
The next morning, we caught our bus around 10:00am and arrived to Kahama at 11:00 p.m. We found a nice but loud guesthouse around midnight to sleep in for only 5 hours until we caught our next bus to Kigoma at 6:00 a.m. This bus was terrible on many accounts, but got even worse when it broke down 2 hours before Kigoma. After an hour of trying to fix this problem, the bus people determined it was irreparable.  We caught another bus going our way, 3 buses after trying to punch down Tanzanians to get on a bus. Finally, at about 7:30pm, we got to our guesthouse and arrived to Kigoma. Check later for posts about why we tortured ourselves to get out west.

Tanzanian pregnancy

There are many things here that are very different from American culture. One experience I had involves handling a Tanzanian pregnancy. During one of our last days of training back in August, we were informed that Tanzanians don’t talk about their pregnancies, so you should never congratulate the pregnant woman on it or discuss it. The reasoning behind this is that many pregnancies don’t make it through and many babies are stillborn. Tanzanian women do not get excited about their pregnancy because the chance of their baby being born healthy is slim. Way back in October or November I had a brief conversation with my neighbor and she hinted that she might be pregnant. I was surprised that she told me given what I was told in training and just addressed the question in hand that involved her possibly being pregnant. After a few months she was sure enough showing her pregnancy. As she was showing and she already addressed it with me to begin with, one day I asked her a question about her pregnancy. She was horrified and I felt terrible. She must have forgotten that she mentioned she might be pregnant to me. She asked if other teachers were talking about her, which I said no they aren’t and I said don’t worry, Jonathan doesn’t see it. She was relieved and that was that. Months went by and I kept waiting for her baby to come. After a while, I started to think that she might be having twins. During what seemed to be her last month of pregnancy, she started addressing that she is too big and her clothes don’t fit anymore. Then, one day, she just left. We saw her and she said goodbye but she did not tell us that she was going to have birth. Eventually, her husband came over and told us that she is staying with his family until she gives birth and then will return to his home. This was the first time he addressed that he would be having a baby to us. Then, for a week I left to do my training in Dar es Salaam. When I returned, I asked him how is his wife? He said she is at home and very fine. He didn’t mention if there was a baby and I didn’t want to ask because what if it was a stillborn. After a few days of not seeing his wife or a baby, I asked another teacher. She informed me there is a baby and I could go over to see him. They had a healthy baby boy and they  named him David since it is a Christian name.  It is customary for people to come greet mama and baby and bring gifts: good, money, clothes.  Usually, the mama and baby do not leave home for 40 days to ensure the baby remains healthy.  Mama is at home on maternity leave until October and I go visit every few days. He sleeps a lot and was born with a full head of hair. Today was his baptism and so we took some picture of him.

my Tanzanian nephew

Mama and David

The Baptism party

Baby David

On vacation!

School’s out until July 7. This last week of school, Jon’s family came to visit! We’ve had fun hosting them and watching their boys play with our neighbors!

Jon and the boys

An oreo sandwich

the best bath we can give

after explaining that I am vegetarian, they told me they were bananas and carrots so I could unwrap them and eat them

the boys making a fort in our living space

Jeff bought a goat and we had a party of goat for the teachers. After picture.

Visitors

We have two visitors that like to come by on the weekend. Our first visitor is the son of the principal of our school. His name is Ben and he’s 7 years old. He used to be very misbehaved when he would come around, but he’s really started learning that if he behaves well, he can come and play whenever he wants. Ben brings his best friend named Yona (short for Jonathan) who is 6 years old. Yona is the son of our school cook. When they come to play, they like to do my hair and try on my shoes. Their favorite toys are Lia’s toys. They take them and play with them for hours. They especially love the laser pointer cat toy. As they shine it on each other, they scream and yell, as if the red light will actually hurt them. Recently, they have been going through our magazines, laughing and being amazed by the pictures they see from American magazines. On this same note, they really enjoy looking at pictures of our friends and family and wanting to know who everyone is. If there’s pen and paper, they draw me pictures. They take my garbage and make toys out of it. It’s also a great way for Jon and I to improve our Swahili. The boys speak quickly but very simply. They’re also very patient with us and will repeat if necessary. I’ve grown fond of them coming over. Although, they often lead to me procrastinating from doing real work!

Yona being my hair stylist with clothespins

Yona (in red) and Ben (in blue) loving to touch white person hair

Ben, on the left, Yona in the middle, and their friend Rashid .They love us taking their photo and looking at it on the camera afterwards.

Hot buns!

Jon & I were informed of a secret bakery in our banking town. We went on the mission to find it and sure enough, we found a little space where there were about 7 mamas baking bread and other delicious baked goods such as these buns shown below! We are so excited to find a local bakery. We often make bean burgers and use bread for the bun. It’s okay, but now we have real, actual buns! We bought these fresh out of the oven. The mamas were really excited that we found their bakery that they gave us one extra bun for free. We will definitely be giving them our business again. I honestly think you can find most things here, it’s just a matter of discovering them.

Topetope

I know that I write about food a lot, but it is one of the best aspects of living in a new place. Whether it’s restaurants or new food altogether, I love putting it in my belly! One afternoon, Jon came home with a peculiar looking fruit to try. I’d never seen anything like it before. It’s  called topetope (toe-pay, toe-pay) in Swahili. As you can see from the picture, the outside is a greenish color and when it’s ripe it’s soft. Some appear bumpy from the outside. You dig into the skin and start pulling away the skin to reveal the sweet, white fruit on the inside. The fruit is basically pod-like. You put a pod into your mouth, eat away the fruit and spit out the black seed inside each pod. It’s by far, my favorite fruit that I have tried here. Apparently, in English, topetope is called Custard Apple. I can see how one might make the analogy of it being custard-like, but I am not quite sure I agree with the “apple” part of the translation. If you can find this unique fruit, I highly encourage you to try it!