Settling into Our Home

I'm at home doped up on medicine and really loopy*. So, naturally, I figured it was a good time to do a blog post to catch up.

Things have been trucking right along here. We've been in our house a little over a week but it feels much longer. We spent the first week getting the basics together-water filter, curtains, mosquito net up, kitchen set up, etc. And this past week we've been able to do things that aren't maybe necessities, but sure do make it easier to live in a home-hang mirrors, buy a rug, etc. Maryknoll Lay Missioners gives us a small budget to buy big items, such as a couch and loveseat, stove and fridge, and kitchen counters. All the furniture was handmade so it took a while to get everything, which is another thing that slowed us down in moving. We wanted to be sure at least a good majority of our furniture was in place. By the time we got into the house we were only waiting on couch cushion covers and our kitchen counter.

Here are a just a few shots of our living room and kitchen.
 



And, now that we have a functional kitchen I've really been enjoying experimenting with the amazing, fresh ingredients here. The other day I made homemade enchiladas. By homemade I mean I made the tortillas, the enchilada sauce, an Africanized refried beans, and salsa. It was so good!

 

On a sad note, after this first time of using this silicone baking pan that I brought from home I burned it up in the oven (I won't tell you how) and it's useless. Dang!

Now that things are settling in at home I can start concentrating on my job. You know, the reason I'm actually here. Things have been very slow-going on that front. I won't really go into the details but let's just say I've not had much to do at the office and have been working less than 3 hours a day. In order to facilitate my language learning and to give me more work to do I've started to visit other organizations in the area to check out what kinds of work they are doing.

This past weekend I went up into the hills around Mwanza with a Maryknoll Brother, Mark, who does public health work in his parish. It was really neat to get out and see a new area of town (where we walked up and up and up a meandering, rocky footpath to the top of a hill and there are no roads). Members of Brother Mark's parish health committee organized a skit to teach the community about ways to overcome common marital problems. They decided that marriage and divorce were the biggest  health issues in their community and they wanted to do something about it. This skit focused on a family whose father is an alcoholic and spent all of their money for food and schooling on alcohol. The mother doesn't know what to do, so she seeks advice from other family members and the community leadership. They all join together to confront the father about his problem. In Tanzanian culture (as well as my own) families often keep their issues private, which can cause a host of other issues to emerge. So, this skit was trying to encourage families to break the silence on a very common issue so that the marriage can be saved, the family can afford food, and the kids can attend school.


In this picture, the "mother" stands with her head held low because she is shammed they can't afford food and schooling. The "father" sits on a stool nearby.**


The "babu/grandfather" gives a lecture to the alcoholic father, while the rest of the family is gathered. "I want peace in the family," he says over and over again. You can also see that the attendees of the skit are gathered round intently watching the play unfold.


At the end of the skit, they distributed pamphlets on marriage and how to prevent violence in the home.  The brochure emphasized equality, love, trust, and communication.


One of the things that really amazed me about the program was how many community members came to watch the presentation and how intently they listened. Some people laughed when the family problems got resolved so easily because they recognize that in real life it's not that simple. But I truly feel that just talking about these issues in a public forum is an important step.

And, in case you were concerned, while I was away from home that day at the community health forum, rest assured that our home was protected and safe by our ferocious guard dog.


"Let me know if you see anything suspicious at the gate," says Smokey.

*I'm still battling the rash I had 2 weeks ago and THE amoeba (as my mom calls it). I went back to the clinic yesterday and the Hungarian Doctor gave me 1 dose of 2 big horse pills to take for the amoeba. I've been zonked ever since. I've also got a cream for the rash and another 10 doses of meds for the itching. Sheesh.
**The man who played the father in the skit was missing a leg due to a snake bite!

Good Food Day

Chocolate chip cookies and caper pasta in the same day! Life is good.

Cultural Experience, the Regional Hospital

Earlier this week I made my first visit to the regional hospital. Note that, not the local hospital or a small clinic. The regional hospital here in Mwanza.

Don't worry, there was nothing horribly wrong with me. I mentioned last week that I had a rash on my wrist and fingers? Well, that rash is still here and has spread and is itchy, filled with pus and is showing no signs of going away. We tried to see a private doctor but he referred us to the dermatologist at the regional hospital.

Now, I'd heard bad things about this hospital, so at least I was able to prepare myself a little. And it's not like I am in a war-zone or anything. There were no bloody, screaming people laying around. But, it truly was just a sad state of affairs. There were people everywhere. Standing in lines that meandered here and there. Sitting around in endless waiting areas. Hunched over to talk through glass windows to receptionists/nurses in dimly lit offices. It reminded me of the DVM. You go to one place, wait in line. Well, that's not even true. First you have to figure out which is the line and which is just a collection of people sitting and waiting. It's very hard to tell the difference. Then, you talk to someone. They tell you to wait. You wait. They tell you to go to another window. You go there. They tell you it's the wrong place and go back. We did this for about 2+ hours. And we were advocating for ourselves! Meaning, if we felt we were waiting a long time or had a suspicion we were in the wrong place, we'd ask a nurse. Imagine what it would've been like if we just sat and waited quietly.

We paid the fee (about $10 US which is minimal to me but astronomical to many Tanzanians) before seeing the doctor. You have to pay this to get your medical chart set up. Then, we waited some more. When things seemed fishy and we didn't feel like we were getting anywhere we asked another nurse. She tells us that the dermatologist doesn't work on Tuesdays and Thursdays and we should come back tomorrow!

Luckily, I have information and resources at my disposal. Instead of coming back the next day we opted to go to a medical clinic where we knew a general practitioner who was good. Within 15 minutes, we'd been seen and I was given an ointment to put on my rash for a few days. What saddens me, though, is to think of what the locals go through. They have to be pretty desperate to travel all the way here to this hospital. Many of them have spent money they don't have to get here. One woman waiting in line told the receptionist that her lungs continue to fill with fluid and that her village clinic referred her here. The people are put through the ringer with lines and endless waiting only to find out that the doctor is out for the day. Or, the lab is 2/3rds not operational. Or the X-ray machine isn't working that day. These are all stories that I've heard here.

To be fair, I've also heard stories of good doctors who are attentive and care about their patience at this hospital. But think about how hard it would be just to see the doctor, even then. I know that Kenya has good medical care. Why can't Tanzania do better for their people?

Guess Who Got a Bone Today and Loved it?*

*That's what she said.

In the House!

Just a quick post because it's late and I'm tired. But I thought I'd share that we're in the house! Last night was our first night. Guess what we did?



What we always do.

Also, check out the newest addition to our family!



Her name's Smokey and she's the sweetest thing in the world! Not much of a guard dog, but we love her just the same.

More pictures at Flickr.

File Under: Strange Things In my Life in Africa 2, Points 1 through 5

Point 1: Yesterday I waited out a storm for an hour in a foam cushion shop after purchasing 12 cushions that we later discovered were too big for our couches. This, despite the fact that we fact-checked the dimensions with the couch builder to verify that they'd work. So now we've got the choice to look for new cushions or cut them to fit. To which, we then have to notify the guy who's sewing the covers so he can adjust accordingly.

Point 2: While waiting in the cushion shop for the rain to stop I told my Regional Coordinator about some stomach issues I'd been having and we think I have amoeba.

Point 3: On my way to work today I discovered I have a rash on my wrists and fingers.

Point 4: On my way to work today the dalladalla (public mini-bus) I was riding was delayed due to excess bananas that fell out of the cargo space in the back and spilled out into the traffic behind us.

Point 5: I got to work, purposely bringing my internet modem so I could do research, only to discover that it doesn't work on any computer in the office. So I turned around and went home to do the research there instead.

Lillian Grace

Lillie Grace, AKA "The Bug", my newest niece, made a surprise appearance yesterday.



Born at 5:12 on 5/12/12. 5lb 5 oz.

She was born while her older sister celebrated her 16th birthday party. Way to make an entrance.

File Under: Strange Things in my Life in Africa

Today we bought a bow and arrow and a rain jacket for our guard at our house. Necessities for work, I guess. Oh, that and sugar. Lots of sugar for his tea.

Yum

I just ate a piece of passion fruit that I picked from our yard. In Africa. Nice!

9 Years Addendum

Here's a picture of me and the hubby on our anniversary on Thursday. We were on our way out to eat.

4 Months

It’s hard to believe that tomorrow is the 30^th, which means that it’ll be 4 months to the day that we arrived in Tanzania. On the one hand, it feels like we’ve been here forever. But at the same time, America seems less far away now than it did 4 months ago. I think that’s probably because things are just now evening out and feeling quasi-normal. So, I figure that if things are less alien, then I’m feeling more at-home.

That’s not to say that we’ve moved in our home yet. We’re still squatting in a house of other missioners. But we hope to sign the rental agreement to our place in the next few days. Then we’ll slowly move in after that. We’ve actually already acquired a good amount of the most essential things we’ll need to survive in our house. Water filter, stove, fridge, plates and silverware, bed, water buckets, towels, sheets. The hubby and I spent 2 days in the big outdoor market last week, pricing things, bartering to lower the price, and eventually buying a bunch of this stuff. We were very proud of our successes because we’re not big on shopping in general, let alone in a place where we’re not fluent in the language, where you have to barter for pricing, and where people are yelling out to you to buy, buy, buy!

But still, it’s a lot harder here to move into a house than it is back in the States. There has to be a lot of things in place that we wouldn’t even think about otherwise. Here we have to have an evening guard hired. And we need to supply the guard with a flashlight, thermos of hot tea, and an outdoor chair. Then, we need to have padlocks for all the gates and doors, plus the gas canisters, and other things. We need the water filter hooked up. The stove and fridge also have to get hooked up because houses here don’t come with appliances. The fridge needs a special outlet called a “fridge guard” because we have power spikes here and it’ll fry the fridge without this outlet. Houses in Tanzania also don’t have kitchens with counters, so we need to order and have them made. These are just to name a few things. It’s all a really interesting process and I’m super glad that we’re not in a pinch and need to move in in a rush.

So, needless to say, four months along and things are moving “polepole” as we say here (slowly). But I’m grateful that it is, indeed, moving along. I’m also super grateful to all the MK folks here who have helped us in countless ways.

Here’s a quick snapshot of our future house. 

*

*And, as an fyi to those who are wondering, we won't be using that satellite dish. It was just on the house from the previous renter.

9 Years

Today is Chris and my 9 year wedding anniversary. It's hard to believe that we've been married that long, but at the same time, it feels like we've always been together. We've had quite a journey so far and I'm so glad to be on our current adventure together.

Happy Anniversary, babe.*



Christmas a few years ago. Giving me his grandmother's engagement ring.


Our first trip to Africa together.


An anniversary vacation in Puerto Rico. 


Anniversary trip to Myrtle Beach. Rocking out before a Social Distortion concert! 


Halloween a few years ago.


At a friend's house in Musoma, Tanzania, just a few weeks ago.

*Too bad we got married so long ago that I don't actually have any electronic copies of pictures from our wedding.**

**UPDATE: My brother uploaded some of our pictures from our wedding, so here are a few shots:

Reflections on My First Week at Work

I started work on Wednesday of this week. Just like first weeks of work anywhere, my first week has been quite slow, consisting mostly of looking through material in the office and getting my bearings. I can't really say I've "learned" anything exactly and I'm still not quite sure how I'll make a contribution, but I'm confident that things will start unfolding in their own time.

Here are a few observations from my first week:

1) It's really difficult to understand context or gain any concept of what people are doing in the office when they're speaking in a language that I barely understand and within a cultural context that's completely different from my own. People come in and out of the office. I don't know who most of the people are and why they've come to the office. Do they work in the building? Are they seeking services? No clue. I also have no idea where my colleagues are going whenever they leave the office, which is constant throughout the day. Are they doing work stuff? If so, I would like to tag along to get an idea of the kind of work being done out in the field. Or, if not, is it just okay to pick up and leave the office to run errands or take care of personal business? I get the feeling that it's the latter of these two things, but there's no way to be certain without constantly asking someone "Where's so-and-so going?" And I know that can be annoying, plus, at some point I figure it's probably not even my business.

2) Time is structured very differently here. Things just move slowly. I may have a meeting on a given day, but I come into the office and the person I'm supposed to meet with isn't even in town, so the meeting gets put off to another day, only to be reschedule again and again into the future. This is not uncommon.

3) I am more comfortable when I have my own space. I was amazed at my good fortune when, on my second day of work I was given an office and a working computer! Up until that point any time I went into the office I sat in my colleague's office across the desk from her, which got really uncomfortable when we exhausted my Swahili vocabulary and had nothing else to talk about and no work to do.

4) It's extremely difficult here to do any work without resources. There's just no infrastructure in place to help out. From what I can gather, my office is currently working with limited or no funds. No money to put gas in the car to get out to the villages where programs are running. Heck, there's no car. No money to pay salaries for staff. Etc. We're really fortunate that we have pretty good computers, but there is no internet unless you personally shell out the cash for a portable modem (which plugs into your thumbdrive. It's how most people get internet here) and service. There is no land-line office phone. So when an intern came to me the other day and said she had nothing to do and was going home, I asked her if it was normal for there to be nothing to do. She said yes, they have no money so there's nothing to do.

I could go on and on, but I guess I'll stop here. I've got much to learn and I don't want to make too many sweeping generalizations yet. I will say that I've read a fair amount of the material that's in the Women's Desk office and it looks like we've done some good work in the past--started micro-enterprise and micro-lending opportunities for women, acquired wheelchairs and crutches for the disabled/handicapped children, trained village and local leaders on gender equality, etc. And there are some really cool national and regional organizations (many of which are faith-based) that have been working on gender equality issues in Eastern Africa for over the past two decades.

So, I have every hope that if we can get some funding we'll be able to become active again and accomplish a host of really great initiatives. I'm sure that will be on my list of job duties-to secure funding. But I've got a ways to go yet before I can really feel confident to do any work anyway, so until then I'll keep going in, practicing my 1st grade Kiswahili and trying to glean little bits and pieces as I'm able.

Best. Meal. Ever.

Since we've been in language school and staying as guests in other people's houses, I've not had much opportunity to cook for the past few months. And I loves me some cookin'. So tonight, the hubby and I had the run of the house and I broke loose. I made homemade tortillas, guacamole, and veggie fajitas.

That's what I'm talkin' about, folks!

SERIOUSLY?

My taste buds just needed some tortillas. It was my first attempt at homemade tortillas (and Chris helped!) and we were not disappointed. And I finished it off with a few spoonfuls of Nutella (birthday gift courtesy of the Rossers). Heck yeah.

Holy Week

It's been the better part of a week and I guess I should post something and start pushing my birthday posts further down the page before someone begins to think that I'm leaving them up there to get more attention. No, although I do like the attention, I've actually just been super busy here and I've not had much time for blogging.

On Thursday we finished our studies at language school, packed our bags and headed back to Mwanza, where we'll be living from here on out. Or at least the indefinite future. Although we're still far fluent in Swahili, we've got a great foundation and I'm super excited to start work next week. It's hard to imagine doing a 9-5 again because I've been out of it for so long. But we're supposed to ease back in for the first three months and focus a lot on specific language and vocabulary acquisition, as opposed to "accomplishing" anything.

We've not secured housing yet, so we are staying with fellow MKLMers until we can finalize that, but we've seen a house we like and hope to move in sometime this month.

Here's hoping everyone out there in cyber-land had a blessed Holy Week and has a Happy Easter. We'll be headed to 7AM Easter Sunday Mass in Swahili. We'll see how much of that I understand. Even on a good day the ratio of comprehension is relatively low!

Picts from my birthday

I already said I had an amazing birthday, but I didn't really say what I did.


Since we were not going to be at dinner at the language school on my actual birthday, we celebrated with cake and ice cream on the night before. Sweets are a rarity here* so we didn't want to deprive everyone (including ourselves) of the opportunity!

Liz and Marion threw a wonderful party for me at their house. We invited some folks from the MK community and the language school and had an excellent blow-out! They cooked delicious food, we sang songs, laughed, and a great time was had by all.


I wore my new dress, courtesy of my thoughtful husband.


Mike made it in from the village, despite the rain.


Big thanks to Liz and Marion for their generosity and hard work!


The cake was To. Die. For.


And they even found chocolate ice cream! (It's not that common here.)


Everyone was so generous and gave me way more gifts than I expected (or deserved!).


We finished off the party with some goofy and fun songs.


My family couldn't make the party, so they had one in my stead at home and we Skyped together to celebrate. My parents made coffee ice cream and cupcakes!


The Waldie family band made a rare Skype-based appearance.

Thank you again, everyone, for helping to make my day super-special.


*Unless you have amazing family and friends who spend ridiculous amounts of money to send you packages that keep you well-stocked in sugary treats. ;)

Couldn't ask for more. At 34.

I'll tell you what, over the past few weeks I have been continually amazed and humbled at the kindness and generosity of friends and family at home and here in Tanzania. This weekend it reached its pinnacle with a fantastic birthday.

Thanks to everyone for your thoughts, messages and well-wishes. I seriously couldn't ask for a better life. I've imagined living in Africa since I was a little girl. But I never could have prepared for or imagined such a great community supporting me. There is no doubt that I am loved. And for that I am truly grateful.

Thank you.

Charity Home in Kigera

Yesterday we had the opportunity to visit a village called Kigera where a Maryknoll priest, Mike Bassano, works. Fr. Mike assists at the House of Compassion, which is a home for people with physical and mental disabilities as well as orphaned children. This home only serves those people who are destitute or otherwise abandoned by all family. It's quite a unique type of place in this country, as families are the main caregivers of the sick. People come from all over Tanzania to live here.



Words cannot describe the experience of visiting this place. For sure, it's a really tough place to live. Mike offhandedly mentioned that the water pipes had been broken and they'd been without water all week*. There is little privacy because all 70+ people (plus chickens, ducks, cats) share a compound. It's dusty and hot and the accommodations are spartan, at best. And the stories of how people ended up here are heart-wrenching.


Fr. Mike gives a tour of the compound and the dispensary, which is open to residents of the home as well as people from the surrounding remote village.

But at the same time, it's a beautiful place with smiling faces and a lively spirit. There are few places I've been where I can say I actually "felt" the presence of God, but this was surely one of them. Fr. Mike exudes such a lively spirit, flitting around, picking up kids, kissing them on the cheeks, making rapid-fire jokes in Swahili. The residents play music all day so the courtyard is filled with the sounds of song. And people sit or mill about the courtyard, sometimes singing, sometimes dancing, sometimes chatting with friends. The kids are passed around from resident to resident, everyone taking a hand at helping one another.

It was such an amazing experience!


The kids don't get much affection because many of them are without parents, so we took turns carrying or holding hands with the kids.


They think this boy is 12 or 13 years old. He doesn't speak.


A windmill pumps water from Lake Victoria to the compound.


David shows a man, named "Baba Yo" (because those are the only words he can say), how to work his camera. Baba Yo LOVED taking pictures and took any opportunity to do so. He wasn't too bad either! In the background Caitlin and I tickle a little girl.


One of our guests from America talks to a resident. This woman is blind and crippled. She crawls on the floor to get anywhere.

The people were trilled that we had come out to visit them. Visitors in Tanzania are considered a blessing, and certainly there are few visitors that come out to the Charity Home. But, honestly, I feel like I was the one who received the blessings yesterday. Any difficulties that I may encounter in life vastly pales in comparison to anything these folks have experienced. And yet, they see the blessings in their life and are grateful.

It was truly an amazing day.

Our fellow MKLMers wrote a blog post about the day too and posted some pictures. Feel free to visit their site to read about their thoughts on the visit.

*It's quite common for people to cut pipes to either steal water or the pipe itself.

Celebrations

Folks may be happy to know that Chris and I got out this weekend to belatedly celebrate our dating anniversary. We had a great time just sitting and relaxing at a cafe. And we ate a cupcake. So. Good. If we had more money on us I'd have gotten a *real* coffee too. I've really got to get better about dealing with an all-cash economy.

(I'm going to post this picture, even though I look like a wobbly-eyed freak show.)



We took several pictures like this and I looked wobbly-eyed in all of them. So then we took another where I could hide my deformity.




Saturday afternoon we went to Lisa's Pride for the last time before we're finished with language school. It was a fairly hot day, so we treated the kids to water balloons. Man! It's amazing what a fun time you can have with toys that cost less than $1.

What we *thought* was for lunch today

One traditional Tanzanian dish, daga, consists of small fish stewed together and then eaten with rice or ugali. When we saw these drying out back today we thought that was for lunch today. Thursday lunches are usually traditional Tanzanian fare here at language school. So why not?





But that's not what was served today. I won't completely miss out on this meal, though, because I hear that the employees at my office in Mwanza cook and eat daga together quite often.

Pictures of language school

I decided today that I'd not taken enough pictures lately, so today I carried my camera around at school and grabed a few shots of teachers. I uploaded them on my Flickr account, but here are a few:


Chris says "Welcome to Darasa (Classroom) G!"


Mwalimu Sylvester teaches us "hadithi" (or stories). He is what the Tanzanians call "Mzee" (older person) and they mean that with a high level of respect.


Mwalimu Stephano teaches us "sarufi" (or grammar). He is recently engaged and will be married in August.


Mwalimu Joseph is one of 2 "mazoezi" (exercise) teachers. He also works with me 2 afternoons a week on one-on-one dialogue. He always has lots of questions about America and American culture.


Mwalimu Daniel is our 2nd "mazoezi" teacher. He often likes to ask us pronunciation questions about American English.

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.