What's life like at language school?

The first stack are the vocab words that I know backwards and forwards; the second stack are the words I know but not all-too-well; and the third stack are the words I don't know at all. I'm glad that the first stack has consistently remained bigger than the other two. Of course, that third stack gets bigger every day as we are constantly starting new chapters with tons of new vocab words.

Sigh.

Sorry, Dear. Happy Anniversary Anyway.

Today, St. Patty's Day, is the hubby and my 11 year dating anniversary. We had sweet plans to steal away for the afternoon and have some alone time out on the town. But, alas, my body had other plans, namely for me to be sick and lay like a slug for 2 days on our bed. I can't even rotate from bed to couch like I would have in our house in SC because all we have here is the bed. So I'm hogging it all for my sick self, vegging out to episodes of LA Ink*, wasting time on the internet, and sleeping. I've never been known for my romantic side, but I seriously blew it this time.

And, don't worry, folks, it's not malaria. Just a head cold and I seem to be on the mend. I should be up and mobile again by tomorrow.

*Thanks again, Erica and Fuzzy, for sending the DVDs!

What’s in an Identity?

Let me start out this blog post by saying that I am in no way claiming to be the slightest bit cool or hip. I am quite aware of the fact that I’m a pretty big dork and on a good day I can barely get myself dressed. I’m okay with that. But I think most of us can agree that in order to survive and be happy with who we are as people, everyone has to have some illusion that they think themselves interesting or cool. We all shape our identities in different ways, whether it’s comprised by the way we dress, who our friends are, what we do for a living, where we live, hobbies, etc, or all of the above. Or, maybe it’s a sense of what we want and strive to be. Whatever, you get my drift.

At 33 (almost 34!) years old I feel like I’ve gained a pretty good sense of my own identity. Or, at least I thought I did. But recently since I’ve given up most every possession I owned, moved away from all my friends and family, quit my job, etc., I find myself sort of in a new identity crisis. I mean, what makes me me? And, this hit me in the oddest of ways. I find myself watching burned copies of TV shows and I do what many people probably do, I pick out the things I see that I like and could see myself doing, wearing, buying, etc. Even if in reality I’ll never own any of the things I see, I always enjoy looking at stuff and picking out what I like. “Oh, I like that shirt,” I think. Or “that’s a cute haircut.” So I’m doing this the other night while watching a show and then I remember that I’m living in Tanzania and I don’t have access to pretty much any of those things. I can’t just go to Target and pick up a new outfit or go online and find a great sale to update my wardrobe. And not only that, even if I had access to these things I like, I might not even be able to wear that shirt or have that certain style because it’s too low-cut for this culture or it would be seen as totally inappropriate here. And it all just kind of makes me sad, like I can’t be who I want to be. But then I think, well that’s really stupid and superficial. The way I dress or my style (more accurately, my lack of style) doesn’t make me me. So, what gives?

I have given up so many little and big things to do this one gigantic thing that is living and working in Tanzania. And yes, I’m sure my “Tanzania experience” will certainly add to my sense of self and identity. But because of all the things I’ve given up to be here, to have this one big identity marker, I find myself rattling around in the emptiness. I feel a little anchor-less.

I’m sure that in time, as I get used to my new life, I’ll solidify my “Tanzanian identity” and I’ll move right along as if nothing ever changed. But for now I’m trying to embrace the emptiness, as difficult as that is, and listen to its messages for me.

Nine to Five (part 2)

Yesterday was technically my second day visiting my work site this week, but it was actually my first day literally in the office, since I spent the previous day out in the rural areas.

I pretty much worked from 9:00-3:30 and a large majority of my day was done in Swahili. Sheesh! What a tough day! I spent a lot of the day with a woman who works in the Women's Desk, Hilda. She is the first staff in my department that I've met. (The woman I mentioned meeting on my first day at the job site, Emelia, is a college intern and she has only worked in the office for 1 month, so I'm not really counting her.) Hilda speaks almost no English, so our conversations were mostly done in Swahili. I managed to meet with her for a good hour before we reached a point where I felt concerned I might be either missing parts of what she was saying or misunderstanding some of the finer details. Once we reached that point we called in Emilia to help translate whenever I felt I needed it.

I am really proud of the fact that I survived a day like this. Not that the women weren't totally helpful and really understanding. I mean, I keep imagining what it would be like if the roles were reversed and a foreigner came into my office at my previous employment in the States saying she didn't speak the language but she wanted to help. We would've said "Thanks, but no thanks" and that would be that. Instead of kicking me out or making me feel like an idiot for not speaking the language, these ladies welcomed me with open arms and really helped me out. They spoke slowly and simply so that I could understand what they were saying. They patiently waited while I pulled my new vocabulary words out of the recesses of my brain. And, when we had nothing else to talk about, we sat down to tea! I would've had lunch with them as well, but my boss, Paul, wanted to take me out to lunch, which was also really sweet.

All things considered, I think the day was a success. I learned a little about the office and the work they do. I got to know the staff a bit. And I confirmed my belief that I have a long way to go in my Swahili before I can really do much more than "survive" a day in the office!

P.S. Here are some pictures from my trip out to the village on Tuesday.


Here is a dam that was built by the Caritas Office using Food for Work Funds


Here are two of my colleges, both named George, standing in front of the dam. This area was so beautiful, but there's just no way to capture the beauty on camera.*

*Have you noticed that black spot in the bottom left side of all our pictures for the past little while? Yeah, what a pain! A piece of sediment or something has gotten into our camera lens and is showing up in all our pictures. Luckily, some family of our fellow MKLMer are coming to TZ in April. So, we've ordered a new camera and had it shipped to them in the US so they can bring it to us when they come. Not really what I thought would happen 2 months into our journey. But we're rolling with it.

Nine to Five (part 1)

Okay, so I'm not quite working a nine to five job yet*, but this week I've had the opportunity to spend 2 days in my future work site. We're on midterm break from language school and we're back in Mwanza to take care of some biashara (that is, business), including not just visiting our work sites, but also house hunting, learning to drive a manual car on the left-hand side of the road**, and getting our drivers license. Needless to say, it's been a jam-packed week!

Yesterday I joined forces with George O. (a fellow MKLMer/civil engineer who works in my office), Tanzanian George (our coworker), and a colleague from the women's desk (my future office). George-squared had to go out into the rural area to check on some dams that they were having constructed/maintained with help from the Food for Work Program. While out there, they also wanted to visit a priest who has opened a boarding school for unwed teen mothers. The school has no water, so the priest wanted a consult from the Georges on how he could engineer a water system for the school and dorms. George O. thought it would be interesting if my colleague and I tagged along to see the school and talk with the girls. Plus, I could see some of the rural area, as well as get a glimpse of the work they do in the other divisions of my office.

The ride out into the rural area was so beautiful! Words cannot capture the beauty. Nor could my camera. It's the rainy season, so everything is green and lush. There are beautiful rocks and boulders littering the landscape. Kids walk cows, goats, and sheep down the road and through the fields. Women in brightly colored cloths work in the fields along the horizon.

I posted some pictures over at Flickr of the scenery and the dams we visited, but the website's being weird and I can't grab them to paste on the blog. So I'll have to do do that later.

The school we visited yesterday was really interesting. The priest who started it is young, having been ordained in 2009. He's in charge of 2 rural parishes, each with over a dozen outstations. Yet he's managed to open this school for 48 teen girls. He's partway through the process of expanding the school and constructing new buildings. His vision is for the school to house several hundred students. This is quite a unique concept in this country. Unwed teens often are forced to drop out of school either because of the shame or because they don't have the time to go to school anymore. School is only required*** up to grade 7 here, so kids often drop out after that anyway. And girls are expected to do a large brunt of the housework. So having a child on top of that is usually a guarantee that it's the end of schooling for a teen mom.

My colleague and I visited a classroom and briefly met the girls. They were all about 17-20 years old. They were very interested in having us come out and speak to them in the future and do programming on gender equality for women. I'm not sure if I will end up doing any projects out there in the future, but it certainly was an educational experience just to go out and see what's being done.

Okay, I'm super exhausted and this is a long enough post as it is. More on day 2 at the job site later!


*Other than learning the language, which in and of itself is a 24 hour job!

**...while navigating in traffic with tons of pedestrians in/around the road, bikes, pikipiki (motorcycles) w/ passengers riding on the back, dalla dalla (buses) with people hanging out the window yelling, etc...

***I say "required" but there's no enforcement, so it is quite common for kids, especially in rural areas and on farms, to not be enrolled in school.

Long Rains

The long rains have started here in northern Tanzania. The change in weather was kind of sudden. Just one day, or evening, I think, the sky got cloudy, a wind picked up, and it rained for about an hour or 2. Then, almost even day or evening since then, we've had at least a little bit of rain. On some occasions the rain has been quite hard. Today as I type this, it's probably in the upper 60's and totally cloudy. It reminds me of a nice Fall day in Columbia. I LOVE it! Makes me want to curl up on the bed and watch movies/sleep.

Here's a little video to show you the rain and the view over Lake Victoria. It's not uncommon to see lighting coming through the clouds in that direction over the lake.



It usually doesn't stay cloudy and rainy all day. The sun will usually poke through the clouds and it will warm up to the 80's again. And then it starts again the next day.

Also, the Rossers (our fellow MKLMers here at language school) posted a fairly in-depth blog post about life in language school. I thought I'd share the link here since our life is pretty similar to theirs right now. In the post, they have a video of David talking to my favorite teacher, Dismas. I love me some Dismas! He and his wife just had a baby in December and in early February Chris and I went to his house to visit with them and hold the baby.

Preparation

Today marks the beginning of the season of Lent, a time of preparation and anticipation. I find it interesting and poignant that both Lent and Advent this year have been times of great preparation and anticipation for me, as I prepared to leave the country in December and am now preparing for work and cultural immersion in Tanzania.

This morning, as I sat in church listening to the readings, I was struck in a new way by those same readings I hear every year at this time.

"When you are fasting, do not put on a gloomy look as the hypocrites do: they go about looking unsightly to let people know they are fasting. In truth I tell you, they have had their reward. But when you fast, put scent on your head and wash your face, so that no one will know you are fasting except your Father who sees all that is done in secret."(Matt 6:16-18)

Most years I sit in church, hungry from eating little all day and thinking about how my hunger in my stomach relates to my hunger for something bigger and better than this life. But today, I was struck by the call to be quiet. To not be "showy".

I got to thinking about this blog, and my Facebook page, and the newsletters that I send home to friends, family, and supporters. And honestly, I became a little embarrassed at how ostentatious I am about the work I'm doing here. To give myself a little credit, there's practical reasons for keeping these methods of communication. I think it's important that we share our work so those at home are more aware of the issues and conditions of people in other places around the world. And, I know that a lot of people just want to know how we're doing and these are easy* ways to communicate. But I have to wonder how much of my writing is to "tout my own greatness."

So, maybe this is a good reminder to me that I need to look at myself a bit less and look at the greater work that's being done, as well as the One responsible for me being here.


*One could read that as "lazy" ways to communicate, I admit.