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.

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.

Video from Sunday's Mass

Here's a video from the drumming circle that was after Sunday's Centennial Mass.

MK Sister’s Centennial Celebration

This year marks the 100th anniversary the Foreign Mission Sisters of St. Dominic, more commonly referred to as the Maryknoll Sisters. Last year the MK Fathers and Brothers celebrated their centennial and this year they’ve passed the baton to the sisters. All throughout the year there will be celebrations in the various countries that has a MK presence.

About 15-20 MK sisters from across Tanzania and even some from the US and Kenya are all gathering this week for a variety of celebrations. This weekend we were fortunate to be able to attend the first half of the celebrations, which were held in our neck of the woods. We took a “pilgrimage” of sorts to the first Maryknoll parish in a small village about a ½ hour’s drive from the language school where we currently live. The Maryknolls first established the parish in Nyegina in 1951. And, what was cool about yesterday’s celebration was that there was one sister with us who was in Nyegina during that time. Sister Ann still lives in Tanzania, though she is about to retire in just a few weeks and return to the States.

The parish has since been taken over by the local diocese, but boy did they put on a show to recognize and celebrate the centennial. We were first greeted by a parade of children singing and dancing as the bus pulled into the church.



Then, we attended a very long, very hot, very crowded Mass. There must have been over 400 people jammed into the church. No windows, no air circulation. It was insanely hot. And the Mass lasted over 2 hours. But, it was such a great celebration that I hardly cared it was so hot. There was a ton of singing and dancing by both a children and adult choir. The Mass was all in Swahili so I only understood about 10% of what was being said. But it was abundantly clear that the priest and the community were singing the praises of the MK sisters. Maryknoll has a major presence in this entire area of the country. They started many schools, founded parishes, opened churches, promoted the education of women, etc. So all of that was recognized and discussed during Mass. All of the sisters and even the lay missioners were invited to stand on the alter and introduce ourselves in Swahili! Luckily, one of the long-term missioners took pity on us and introduced ourselves so we didn’t have to bumble through our elementary Swahili in front of the whole congregation. Several of the community leaders gave speeches and at the end of Mass the 2 longest serving MK sisters in TZ got up and were presented with gifts of cloth from a variety of community members. The people would approach the sisters who were standing on the alter, hold up their fabric, wrap it around the two sisters’ shoulders and then give them a joint hug and kiss. Then the next person would come up and do the same. They must’ve been presented with about 20 different pieces of fabric, each one more beautiful then the next.*

At the end of Mass we were ushered out of the church by a chorus of rambunctious children who we had to hold back for fear of them knocking over the elderly nuns. When we got outside there was a singing and drumming circle. The sister’s didn’t waste a second; by the time I got out there they were already dancing and waving their newly acquired cloth. The whole congregation flooded outside; kids climbed trees just to get a look at the circle. It was awesome. Then, we paraded down the road via drumbeat and dancing to the convent where the MK sisters were planting a commemorative tree.


The drum and dance circle outside the church.


The sisters dancing in the circle.


The procession to the treeplanting.


The sisters plant the tree.

After the tree was planted most of the congregation dispersed and we were served a fabulous meal by the sisters who now run the parish. They had tables and chairs setup under the trees and it was quite an idyllic spot to sit and enjoy the breeze after being cooped up in the hot church for so long.


Enjoying a rest under the tree before lunch.

Yesterday’s celebration was such a tribute not only to the MK sisters and their history, but also to the Tanzanian people. It was everything I love about this country. Celebration. Beauty. Faith. Music. Dance. Community. So lovely!

It should also be noted that the drive to Nyegina was absolutely beautiful! As we wound our way around Lake Victoria, we drove through some of the lushest farms in the country. The lake was to our right and the farms to our left as we passed small huts and family compounds. People stopped to look at the bus full of wazungu (Westerners) as we drove by and kids waved and yelled hello. Absolutely spectacular.



*The sisters were generous enough to give us lay missioners some fabric. So I got a bolt of pretty purple fabric that I hope to get made into a dress or shirt.

Giving and Receiving Consolation

This was my daily reading the other day. Thought it was appropriate since we were going back to Lisa's Pride this Saturday.

Consolation is a beautiful word. It means 'to be' (con-) 'with the lonely one' (solus). To offer consolation is one of the most important ways to care. Life is so full of pain, sadness, and loneliness that we often wonder what we can do to alleviate the immense suffering we see. We can and must offer consolation. We can and must console the mother who lost her child, the young person with AIDS, the family whose house burned down, the soldier who was wounded, the teenager who contemplates suicide, the old man who wonders why he should stay alive.

To console does not mean to take away the pain but rather to be there and say, 'You are not alone, I am with you. Together we can carry the burden. Don't be afraid. I am here.' That is consolation. We all need to give it as well as to receive it.

-Henri Nouwen, Bread for the Journey: A Daybook of Wisdom and Faith

My First TZ Haircut

Big "ups" to fellow MK Lay Missioner, Liz, for my first haircut in East Africa! This afternoon she cut a few inches off the bottom and I think she did a great job.



When I got home I also thinned it out a bit with a little trick I learned from watching my hairdresser cut my hair so many times in the past. I'm not sure how professional it looks, but I'm happy with it. And my main goal was not to mess it up too royally and it seems that I've achieved that. So hooray!

Great Hadithi Quote

Each week we have to memorize dialogue and stories in Swahili in order to help build vocabulary and get us used to the flow of the language. This week's hadithi (story) is about women's equality in Tanzania. The best quote is:

"Wanawake duniani pote wanajiunga pamoja kudai haki zao."

Roughly translated it means "Women around the world are all joining together to demand their rights."

Nice.

African Jog

I'm pretty proud of myself because this morning I got up early and did a run for about 1/2 hour. It's the first time since we've been in Africa that I've jogged, although I have been doing some other exercises sporadically. I was reluctant to start jogging because I wasn't sure how it would go over in this culture where seeing a white woman run down the road in shorts is quite an unusual site for the locals. But I conferred with the director of the language school and he assured me that it would be no problem to do it, especially if I go early in the AM.

So, this morning I found myself running down the dirt driveway and up the road, over to the seminary next door, and around their soccer field a few times. It felt great to stretch my legs a bit. It was also wonderful to be able to take in the sights and sounds of my neighborhood as people were waking up. Sometimes I have these perfect moments when I'm suddenly hit over the head by the fact that I'm in Africa. I can't tell you the number of times while living in the US that I would ride my bike down a street or go for a walk and think "Some day I may do this in Africa." So, this morning as I was running around the dirt field, avoiding the cow crap on the ground, yelling "Shikamoo, Bibi*" to a worker in our school as he rode his bike up the driveway to work, I couldn't help but be grateful and think "Yup, here I am."

*Shikamoo is a term of greeting to someone who is older or should receive respect.

Why I Talk About Rape

Why I Talk About Rape

Because of my previous job, I tend to talk pretty openly about rape. It’s definitely a conversation-stopper and sometimes I feel like a “downer.” But this article makes some excellent points about why people need to talk openly and honestly about the issue. She puts it better than I could've.

I'm Published!

The Sexual Assault Report published an article that I wrote right before leaving my previous employment. They don't have the article online, so here's a screen shot of it. If anyone is interested in reading it, let me know and I can email you the scanned copy of it.

Makoko Language School

I thought I’d share a bit about what it’s like at language school, so y’all have an idea of what life is like for us these days. Makoko Language School was started in the 1960’s by the Maryknoll Fathers and Brothers and for the years has trained missionaries and other westerners in Kiswahili, as well as local languages from this region. The school has since been taken over by the local Catholic Diocese but it continues to teach in much the same manner.

We have 5 classes a day, each 40 minutes long with a 5-minute break in between. Classes run until 12:30, followed by ½ hour lunch and an hour rest. After the rest hour we have 45 minutes in the language lab when we listen to tapes (YES, tapes!) of the stories (hadithi) and dialogues (masungumzo) from the morning classes and practice exercises (mazoezi) from the lessons of the day. After language lab we can be free for the rest of the day, spend more time in the lab, or get help from the teachers who hang out at the school until 3:30.

At first onset it may seem really slack that we are finished our day at 3:30 (or possibly even 2:45 depending on whether I quit after language lab). But after doing this for 2 weeks I’ve quickly learned that my brain can only take so many hours of language acquisition before I’m totally fried. Usually by the time classes are finished and it’s lunchtime I’m so mentally exhausted that I can’t comprehend anymore. The hour nap after lunch has become a necessity for me to get through the day!

Despite my mental exhaustion, after language lab I have been spending time with the teachers hanging out under the tree in the yard. This is good because it allows me to practice some Swahili mixed in with English and I also get an opportunity to ask them questions about Tanzanian culture and customs. The teachers are native Tanzanians from various tribes and different parts of the country. They represent a diversity of ages and they are all really fantastic people! In fact, this weekend a few of us visited the home of one of our teachers to meet his wife and 3-week-old daughter.

I feel like I’ve been handling the challenge of language school very well up until this point. It’s a lot of memorization, but I’ve been able to do whatever was thrown my way with ease. Up until today, that is. Today I feel like I hit a wall. Hard. I can’t really say why, but today I just couldn’t remember anything that we’d learned last week and I was totally overwhelmed with all of the rules and agreements in the language. I was mixing up my “hiki’s” with “hili’s” and my “wa’s” with “ya’s”. Sheesh! We have a dialogue to memorize tonight and I’ve just barely gotten a grasp of it. I know that these feelings and frustrations are not unusual to learning any new language and I know that I will climb this wall and keep going. But man, it’s hard. I just have to keep telling myself that I’m not the first person, nor the last, to learn this language. I WILL do it!

In the meantime, in addition to studying I’m trying to keep my body active by exercising and playing Frisbee, reading a ton of books and watching DVDs. Yesterday I started watching the TV series Glee. I’ve only watched 2 episodes so far, but I have the distinct feeling that this show may just be the thing that gets me through language school.