Krista is Where?

This Is Where I Am

2009-10-18T22:36:00.000-07:00

I've been back in the U.S. for 36 days. Sadly, my memories from Tanzania feel rather like a story or dream. From what I hear, that fading feeling is pretty normal. That feeling does not take away experience though. Plus, I have about a million pictures. No worries.

September 21st, I left Boston and my wonderful east coast relatives. Which reminds me - Thank you family (especially Alex and Dorothy) for making me so welcome, feeding me lots of food, and putting lavender in with all my laundry.

So the day I left Boston, I landed in KC. Upon exiting the gate, my mother jumped against the gate window (causing a rattle) with a welcome home sign.

The man I'd been sitting next to on the plane turned back to me and said, "Well that's awesome."

I replied, "Yeah. That's my mom." It was awesome.

Actually, reflecting back on what that man said, I can't help but feel it sums up the entire nine month journey. "Well, that's awesome."

There's no better way to say it (or quicker). That sentence pretty much works. The places I saw, the lessons I learned, the unique experiences, and foremost the new found friends were all awesome. No matter what tropical disease I was exposed to, that minor danger can not compare with all the benefits and amazingly wonderful happenstances of those past months.

Now, back to homecoming. My parents, grandmother, aunt, uncle, and cousin (Mychele) picked me up at the airport, homemade signs and all. After the pick-up, we went to Olive Garden. Where else!? Special shout out to Liz (my fellow female American vol)! She shares the guilty spot for ol' Olive Garden (gross but somehow sooo good).

Before returning home, I mentally pictured what it would be like. Home. And... arriving home could not have been better. Thanks to everyone for being incredibly supportive. The packages, messages, and letters always made me feel so cared for and loved. While I can already tell that missing Tanzania and my friends will be difficult, I know it's not the end. There's lots more ahead.

A Sliver of the Down Low

2009-07-19T03:38:00.000-07:00

Soccer Time
Work/life in village has been going super well. My proposal, to shift the women’s community soccer league supplies and funding to the secondary school girl’s soccer team, was approved. Awesome. So, we have jerseys and a few more balls and a bit of money to set up an in-school tourney, complete with prizes. Hongera kwetu!

We usually divide in two teams, team Skirti and team Blousi. Team Skirti usually loses. I mean, really, loses. It’s like a 4 – nil, ½ hour scrimmage. Even though Skirti won’t score, this has a lot to do with Blousi’s defense. Their goalie is a grade-A beast.

Skirti is fronting true blue effort, but we still have work to do. The girls hate running. To some extent, a few girls are afraid of the ball. It could be fun to play dodge ball one day, just to see if it’d help. Don’t know if it’s a clever idea to cut loose Blousi’s animal goal keeper in a game of dodge ball though. Dodge ball, we’ll see. Labda (maybe).

We held essay/art competitions and the results were astounding. The kids are so talented. Obviously, speaking small Kiswahili, I haven’t really been reading their essays. Their art is impressive though. Their cartoons are fashioned in colored pen and pencil – I think some kid even used pastels – and were quite creative.

The last four weeks of placement are surprisingly organized: two more video shows, the community festival, ward environmental day, girl’s soccer, classroom peer educator training, and community action group seminar training. They're busy weeks, and could possibly be hectic, but that would just mean more fun.

Rwanda and Back
Went to Rwanda from 21 June until 4 July. Long story short, it was amazing and forever changed my life. I helped make mud bricks for a cow shed using my feet. That was a highlight, along with singing loads of songs with loads kids, and seeing the genocide memorial. Wow.

Apparently I wasn't supposed to go to Rwanda (spw mandate), however, because that information was not communicated to me, I wasn't reprimanded.

When I returned to Tanzania, I stayed out of village to see off an international volunteer who was leaving early. I was issued a written warning for that, but am appealing it... yea I’m serious. A written warning doesn't actually matter too much. The literal content of the warning was awful though.

Seeing off Annabelle (Australia) was heaps more important to me than going back to village. At the time, both my schools were still closed. 80% of my work requires the school to be open. It shouldn't necessarily be that way, but we struggle with the community. The school and the students love us. So, like I say, staying with Annabelle was a personal priority which came above being inactive in Makoga (my placement village).

Holiday
Oh, so before hitting Rwanda, Mike and David (cousins) visited. That was fantastic. The first 3 or 4 days were slightly overwhelming, but we managed. It was as though my Tanzania life and family life had undergone this sudden and magical osmosis.

I felt disoriented. It was like waking up after surgery anesthesia, but only for the first few mornings. Scenario: I’m waking up, look over to see Mike and David in Stambuli’s bed, and think, “What? Who is that? Where’s Gly- Oh, oh, oh, right, right. Mike and David are here. Man they’re tall. How are we related and they are a foot and a half taller than me?”

Those poor boys were on buses or ferries or planes nearly everyday. There was but one occasion when we stayed in the same place for two nights in a row. That was Zanzibar. Mike, David and I stayed at The Dhow Palace in Stone Town. It was beautiful and there was a bath tub and a hair dryer and we watched an Arnold Schwarzenegger film in which the Govenator is pregnant. God bless America ha ha.

This was breakfast: bananas, pineapples, watermelon, mango, papaya, rolls, cakes, cereal, eggs, toast, freshly made passion fruit or mango with pineapple juice, tea, and authentic Zanzibar coffee. Holy cow, I nearly fainted. We ate on the roof overlooking Stone Town and the Indian Ocean. It was lovely. That was the most luxury I have experienced in a while.

Plus, Mike and David took care of me. They shared a lot of their Cliff bars (energy bars with names like ‘chocolate brownie’) with me AND brought me loads of dark chocolate! Best of all, we made fun of each other. Boy do I miss family, sibling rivalry and bickering. Hurrah!

We especially made fun of David's passport photo. It is the worst photo I have ever seen - human or animal. David doesn't look like that. I have no words to describe it other than Bugs Bunny/extraterrestrial/missing child/Arian. Freaky city.

Tales from Village
We used to have visitors to the house, but now and since before holiday, we have friends. We have proper friends. Gatunga (the equivalent of the name, Grace) and Eva and Robert are our closest friends. They come over to play cards or we go to their homes and have dinner.

Robert brought us six eggs one day and then told me if I want to stay in Tanzania, I ought to marry a Tanzanian. Yes, ha ha! Robert said it is the best way to become an authentic Tanzanian. He teaches me Kiswahili words too. Mike and David met him. They know he’s legit.

We get on well with this bunch of primary school teacher ladies too. They said they’ll do my hair if I have scissors. That frightened me. Speaking of scissors, on the way to Rwanda, my scissors, nail clippers, and pocket knife were confiscated. What? I forgot you can’t carry-on pointy stuff.

The craziness behind this is that I completely made it through two or three security check points at Dar es Salaam airport. My weapons were with me until boarding the next plane in Nairobi. Mike said he feels really safe in Dar. Ha ha.

I was speaking Kibena (village lingo) with the guards. They were lovin’ it. Sorry they missed my sharp objects on the X-ray machine. It’s not like I would have pulled them on anyone.

Back to the village and all our lovely friends though; Mama and Bibi are sweet hearts AND are still giving us food. Woot! Stambuli and I have been avoiding cooking at all costs. We either boil eggs and buy bananas and mandazi or naomba off mama. Then, we go to sleep at 8pm and call it good.

Cooking is time consuming. Though, because my amazing cousins sent SAGE and ROSEMARY, we made the best wali na maharage (rice and beans) I've ever eaten. I know another volunteer has Mrs. Dash, but heck to the yes on sage and rosemary.

Still, I make pancakes. They're the only thing I cook better than my partner. Hawezi (she is unable). During a May visit to Keisha's (UK) village, she taught me the art of village pancakes. They're super tasty. Sugar, water, flour, basi (enough).

Accepting Ignorance
Stambuli wants everyone who reads this blog to know that I did not know where Arusha was. I nearly lost 10,000 Tish betting Gly (a Tanzanian who studied Geography specifically in school) that Arusha borders Rwanda. Arusha definitely is not the region of Tanzania on the border with Rwanda. Gly laughed at me for a long time. Days. Fair enough.

Stambuli vs. Mgohele
My village name is Krista Mgohele. Mgohele is also my card playin' name. Stambuli and I mad face off when throwin' down Last Card. Last Card, if you don't know, is exactly like UNO, but with a standard deck of cards.

Recently (um - saved this draft in June), Gly and I started to keep tally of how many games are won by either of us. August 29th is the final day of play. We'll play straight for 2 and 1/2 hours. Those rounds will decide the SPW, Makoga Placement, Grand Champion of Last Card.

The prize? 5,000Tish for anything the winner's heart desires at the Iringa Masaai Market. The 2nd place prize is an ice cream cone. Lame. I am not going to lose… I mean, win 2nd place.

When I come back to the states a social retarded, speaking Kiswenglish, fat as a house cat, please remember to accredit the Tanzanian, underground gambling scene of Last Card. I'll probably need rehabilitation.

In Other News
Kyler is leaving the program and flying out of Dar es Salaam, August 12th, to Dulles Airport. I love Kyler. He is Yankee Bwana (dude/sir/man). When he told me, I cried. Half of me is sad, while the other half is happy for him and jealous he’ll see his family.

To read more, visit his blog http://kylertanzania.blogspot.com/

Kyler and I have had a very different, yet similar, SPW volunteer experience. It’s hard to explain.

Sema (speak)
No. Eat more. If we send you to America skinny, people will think Tanzania is a bad place. If you return very fat, they will know you had a good time. -Stambuli's mom (I can't deny her)

Can you hold this? -Random man, giving us a lift, talking to Keisha
Sorry, hold what? -Keisha
The steering wheel. -Random man, giving us a lift

Can I please just get a friggin' chocolate cake? -Kyler (not at Nema Craft)

I heard if you don't wash your hair for six weeks, it returns to a natural state. -Annabelle

Hey Bella, did you wash your hair? -Everyone

Maybe you have malaria. -Everyone

So I walked out of the "toilet" and felt this vibration in my pants. Then, decided to go back in and see what was going on. Sure enough, 'bzzzzz' out pops a fly! -Claire

No Mom, I'm serious! He was just sitting there, minding his own business. Suddenly, one of those little lizards came tumbling through the roof straight onto his lap. You'd think the guy who owned the house would buy a satellite dish after fixing the roof. Call me crazy. -Me, telling my mom about the roof (or lack-there-of) at Kyler's house

Krista: What kind of dog is that?
Stambuli: That's what you in English call a goat.
Krista: Oh, that's why it looks so weird.
Stambuli: Krista- where are your specs!!?
Krista: Sijui!! ('I don't know' in Kiswahili)

I want all of the American people to understand, it is understandable that the American people can not possibly understand. -John Henry (aka: JPH - photographer and my former house mate)

Mgohele Mail
I know I haven't been posting. I’ve been busy. I have fallen SO behind that at this point, I just can't be bothered. The thought of catching the blog up, it causes me pain, and also to feel sleepy.

Instead, here are some messages I've received from people while away. This is what I read when I use the internet. Maybe interesting for you, maybe not. Here it goes.

KJ, whens the reuniting going to happen? i miss you. get out of africa. you're definitely needed much more in kansas. you've got your tan, what else do you want? what does africa have that i don't????? orphans? i can score you some orphans if thats what it will take.. -Sarah Rad

In my dream there was a huge oceanside celebration of your return. A big party full of sunflowers, killer whales and killer waves... and i miss you like woah. -Abby

Krista Jobst, I miss you. Please come to my house soon. -Beth J (my little sister)

Oh long lost friend how i miss you! I saw your pictures of this crazy african place you are at and it looks amazing. It must be so neat being there, a once in a lifetime experience! But what is this I hear about you missing cheese? Does this crazy land of hot suns not have cheese!?! If so, I must never venture there for I would perish. I really do miss you lady. Life is boring without you. -Sam

How ya doing KJ? Africa still treating your well? I got your post card in the mail a while back, and have been meaning to tell you for a while. Anyway just checking up on ya, I want to hear all the stories you have and im sure you have a lot. Well, not much more from this end. Look forward to seeing you when you get back, not much longer now! -Adam

Hi sugar pot, your basket was very special!!!!! Laura loved it and wished so much you could have been there to share in the day (my cousin got married). She asked about you several times during the day. She was happier looking than I have ever seen her. The whole thing was beautiful. I am thinking of you a lot and so anxious for your return, anxious like it can't come soon enough! Hope you are feeling well and things are fine. Did you get the packages yet with the warm socks, etc.? I hope so. I am concerned about you being cold! Hope soccer is going well and you are running your little legs off! :-) I love you! Mom

1Photo: The road to Njombe from village and the primary school's, Ilovi, sign. 2Photo: Some of the soccer girls at secondary school. 3Photo: The soccer field at Makoga Secondary School during an evening practice. 4Photo: Glynis Stambuli (My partner, add her on facebook) standing in front of our village house and being silly. 5Photo: G & me outside our house. 6Photo: My Njombe host family (the not insane one). 7Photo: Liz (US), Claire (UK), me, Annabelle (AUS), Laura (AUS), Keish (UK), Jolene (New Zealand) and Kyler (US) on Safari in February - Ruaha National Park. 8Photo: Annabelle, me, Gwen (Belgium), Claire, Jolene, and Laura having a picnic at the park in Iringa during Kiswahili in January - Week 1! 9Photo: The International SPW-TZ 2009 crew on cooking day, our last day of a 6-week language/culture training! The mzungu next to me with her thumgs up is Ali Frankland (UK). Doratea (UK) is not pictured because she was sick on cooking day. Pole dada (sorry sister)!

Run Away Tongue & Haunting Hair

2009-05-27T01:30:00.000-07:00

Does anyone remember, back in the day, when people would actually go sit inside Pizza Hut, to eat Pizza Hut pizza, IN the restaurant (I use the term 'restaurant' loosely)?

Who remembers the two shakers of Parmesan cheese and chili flakes? If you're with me thus far, then you will enjoy the following:

In Makoga, Stambuli and I eat three main food staples; potatoes, rice, and beans. Delicious, yes, I know. I'm not even being sarcastic. I'm so used to it. It's a fine life. Anyway, the only seasonings we use are salt, hot mango pickle by Chef Simba, and chili sauce by Ivori.

We're all familiar with salt, but 'hot mango pickle' I'm betting most yankees have never heard of. It's this mystery glass jar with a red lid and inside there are mango skins, HOT chilies, vinegar (I'm assuming), maybe some tomatoes, and some serious food preservatives.

I tried hot mango pickle once. My tongue nearly hopped out of my mouth and ran away. Now, Stambuli is the lone user. I'll never eat it again. I almost needed a pika (vom).

The chili sauce on the other hand, which literally goes by no other name, just - Chili Sauce - is, without doubt, the chili shaker from Pizza Hut mixed with, "tomato pulp, corn flour, salt, spices, vinegar, and stabilizers."

At least Chili Sauce has an ingredient list. Impressive, I say. So, it's slightly less sketchy than Chef Simba, and I use it to flavor my rice, beans, and potatoes... though I think I'm going to stop because it may be making me ill. This coming week, it's detoxin' time.

*****

I heard a reggae version of 'My Heart Will Go On' - the theme song to Titanic by Celien Deon (in case you didn't know ha ha). It's mind bogglingly difficult to explain how I felt when I heard this reggae love anthem... other than to say that while Stambuli and I listened, I laughed my face off and Stambuli split her gut at my intense display of merriment.

Tanzanian radio is a crazy cool phenomenon. WHERE AM I? A strange twilight zone between the developing world and western pop-culture. It's like the mid-90's mixed with colonial times and an early Fresh Prince episode. Love Will Smith. Anyway... tena (again).

*****

Mama Humphrey (shares the house with us) taught me to bake bread from scratch! It's even brown bread. Ninapenda mikate (I love bread)... my Kiswahili is so basic.

*****

Stambuli has a new weave whenever possible. Her first weave, quite lengthy (1/2 way down her back), thin braids, must have taken two hair stylists (or masaai warriors) and eight hours. So much weave!

This first weave gave her a young, innocent appearance... which is not a facade (look who's talking). When she took all of this hair out, and threw it to the wind in preparation for a new do, she and I did not realize the scorned synthetic hair would haunt us for the remainder of our stay in kijijini (village)- possibly Tanzania.

It's been at least two months since that first weave was bid farewell and still, G and I find long braids every time we sweep and in our bags. On occasion I find strands under my mattress. How?! It's an ongoing joke that she and I never tire of.

Liz (US vol-D.C.) termed this oh-so-common situation: Tumble Weave

"G, I don't think it's fair for me to sweep if I'm just sweeping up your old hair..."

Stambuli laughs, walks away, and I continue to sweep. There have been four other hair styles, but five if you count lack-of-haristyle.

Actually, I kind of envy G. She can so drastically, so often change the animal on her head and everything she's sported looks good. Dang! I've said it before, Glynis is a babe... and also a man magnet.

Last week, a man who has fallen in love with her from town, took a taxi to our village to bring us gifts to win her love.

His name's Fredy. He is a rando, radio personality. Well, I mean Fredy is lovely. I'm not terribly bothered by his gifts at all. We didn't cook for three days because he brought bread, cookies, apples, bananas, avocado, oranges, juice, and chocolate.

Stambuli is so nice. She can't help that so many men love her. What a tough position she is in...

*****

Not sure what it is about the head CAG (community action group)... used to be the whole dropping by the nyumbani lewa sana (very drunk), but Monday, he was sober and possibly more annoying than usual.

His plaid trousers even anger me- AND I'm a fan of plaid trousers. My main beef with Aga (the head CAG) is how he comes 'round at meal time (Stambuli and I strategically cook at an obscure hour, once a day) and so he comes 'round and we're not eating. We're usually not even cooking, but Aga lingers after talking CAG business. He is waiting for food.

It's the end of the month! Our stipend was long gone last week. As if we're going to offer Aga ANY of our rice and the one kilo of beans the mice didn't pinch.

Once, before the strategic cooking at obscure hours, Aga came while Stambuli and I were having lunch. G ended up giving him half of each of our portions. This was not a big deal. He ate a full portion, we ate 1/2's. Aga was our guest.

Lakini halafu (but then), he ASKED for more food. He insisted that we must have prepared more. We had not been expecting this dude. After he had eaten more food than us, he had the nerve to say, as he was leaving, "Well, your guest is leaving hungry. Next time, be better prepared." Halafu, I lit my hair on fire and pulled out my eyelashes with agitation. Ok, not quite.

Aga has at least one wife, but still expects anything with breasts to offer him chakula (food). He has a very nice farm, that he doesn't farm. The man has plenty of food (and quite obviously drink).

Aga always says, "You see me say..." I think he is asking me if I understand, but am never 100% sure on anything he says. It's all taken with a grain of salt. Usually Stambuli deals with him, as I have little patience for his ludicrous.

G says, "Worry not." I help her endure Aga through humor. My jokes are not cruel. Usually, after he says something extra farcical, because he's drunk, I'll make fun of him and only G will understand.

What would you do if a considerably crazy, rather vexatious, intoxicated community member came to visit you every meal time? Exactly, you'd make it funny. Better to laugh than to hang yourself with your Tanzanian partner's old weave.

*****

The community seminars, school lessons, soccer team, and SRH clubs are going surprisingly well! The school is about to close for terminal exams and then a break. Stambuli and I will still be able to have SRH club and lady soccer though. Most of the girls board at the school.

Since beginning teaching lessons, I have been furahi sana (very happy). I may gain more from the lessons than the wanafunzi (students). The students, at least so far, have been so engaged and ask really legit questions. They're happy when we're there. Them being excited about a lesson G and I planned, keeps me more than going. I love it.

Vijana rock my life :D

Vijana is the Kiswahili word for youth.

Stambuli Forgot the Key

2009-05-12T03:28:00.000-07:00

My bus playlist today:
Blue Ridge Mountains - Fleet Foxes
Mykonos - Fleet Foxes
Winter's Love - Animal Collective
Lion's Mane - Iron & Wine
Faded from the Winter - Iron & Wine
Love and Some Verses - Iron & Wine
New Romantic - Laura Marling
Typical - Laura Marling
Suggestions - Jose Gonzalez
Fake Empire - The National

27 Tanzanian men tried to sell me a bus ticket today. Yes, I counted.
1 Tanzanian man touched my taco and said, "Mambo!"
2 Tanzanian women spilt fresh milk on my legs (my fault for showing leg).
2 international volunteers went to Makete.
1 umbrella was left on the bus.

I've stopped calling my partner, Glynis, Glynis. I just can't do it anymore. Usually I call her G, but am not sure she likes it. So, Stambuli is her last name and it is so much more fun to say. Sounds like she is in the Mafia. From now on, if you read Stambuli, just know it's Glynis.

Right now I'm in Njombe because Stambuli forgot our house key in Dar es Salaam. Her mother sent it to Iringa by bus and G is picking it up today. Tomorrow we'll go to village, finally. All of our activities are pushed back to next Monday because of the program change. Girls soccer, SRH club and community seminars can continue, but school activities, as usual, are stuck in the mud.

I'm really excited to begin school activities and am sort of bothered that we haven't been able to. Next week, though.

Njombe and my placement are less rainy and more cold. Winter is here!

Stambuli and I spent a week in Dar while she was working on her university loan forms and I had to shower three times a day. First of all, there was a shower (WOW!), and second I was sweating places people were not meant to sweat. For example, my earlobes and ankles. What? I was warned of this ankle sweat, but couldn't believe it.

Hop on a bus Njombe bound and in less than a day's travel, you need to wear a jacket and leggings. Weather change makes me sleepy. Think I'll go have a pumzika sasa (rest now).

Blah blah blah

2009-05-11T02:45:00.000-07:00

Fun stories: I broke my vegetarianism to eat pweza (octopus tentacles). They tasted so great! Dip 'em in chili sauce, or even not. Ninapenda pweza. I may have to become a pescitarian... What is this country doing to me?

Gwen was bitten by a mosquito on her eyelid. Ouch.

I can balance bottles on my head. Unlike the bucket, when I use my hands, I do not use my hands to balance a glass bottle. Maybe I was Tanzanian in a former life.

Keisha met this man called Douglas, while we were in Dar, who is from North London (Keish is from North London). Douglas read her poetry. Fantastic.

We found a new place to eat in Iringa... but still go to the same restaurant anyway.

My friend, Laura (Aus), pees in a bucket if she has to use the choo at night because her house is next door to the village pub. Score!

While in Dar, I went to this proper grocery store, Shop Rite. I stood and stared in awe at the biscuits. Then I saw a castle built with Red Bull. I nearly passed out. The culture shock in September will be overwhelming.

I want to buy a bajaj and drive it cross country when I'm home. Google image bajaj. It's not the motorcycle, it's the one that looks like golf cart and a tricycle had a baby.

Friends have been a massive part of volunteering with SPW. The whole not knowing anyone and now having a network across Tanzania of host families, international and Tanzanian vols, peace corps buddies, and run-ins. Run-ins meaning hearing someone speaking English and then asking, "So I heard you speaking English and I was just wondering where you're from...?" It's nice when other people ask me that. It makes me think I'm less of a creeper.

Sounds stupid, but that's pretty much how any of us meet ex-patriots, other people working with NGO's etc. Anyway, obviously it's mainly international vols, chillin' with other international vols.

Sasa hivi (right now), Claire, Keish, Jo, Laura, Annabelle, and Gwen are in town. Ali left yesterday, sadly. Claire and I were singing Justin Timberlake (and Hanson... I won't lie) songs while Jo had a test for malaria. She's just being sure it's gone.

I have giardia still, but am pretty accustomed to it and don't mind all that much. Could be so much worse. Liz had something burrow into her foot and lay eggs. Claire was in Dar for a week (2 weeks ago) and was almost sent back to the UK.

Claire was vomiting about 15 + times a day so finally, after she vomited on every street in Iringa Town, SPW sent her to Dar. There, the doctors diagnosed her with something I can't spell, but can explain. One of the medicines given to her in Iringa, wore away a sufficient amount of her stomach lining. Claire already has a diaphragm disorder. Mix that with a lack of stomach lining, karibu tapika (welcome vomit). So, this was similar to an ulcer... sort of... gastro something.

She's much much better now :D Yay!!

Tomorrow is Makoga go Monday tena (again). Today, Keish and Gwen and I will be making the journey to Njombe. We'll stay one night and then split up to villages.

I wanted to pick up modules for our school sessions (now that the classroom peer education program is scrapped), but SPW doesn't even have them prepared yet. I was told mine will be delivered to me via bus this week.

In Makoga, one day we hear great news about how often people are testing for HIV or something, but then we hear about corporal punishment... or see kids being caned over the back for being late to lesson. Crazy. There's good and bad in everything, right?

The girls (other international volunteers) seem to be having similar experiences. Annabelle watched a girl at her primary school be caned for losing a pencil case. The pencil case wasn't even hers. This girl must have been going to pick it up for her friend. She was hit in front of the entire school at an assembly.

Jolene said, in her village, a student had been punished for falling ill and missing class. He was ill. The school new he was ill. That doesn't mean he's allowed to miss class I guess. I don't know.

It's a different world.

Karibu Potato Sack Oga

2009-04-25T07:18:00.000-07:00

So, Makoga. Makoga, Makoga, Makoga.

We bathe behind the potato sack. We are about to begin having LADY soccer practice 5 times a week. We, as in me (not so much Glynis), also hate to cook.

I took a good hour on Wednesday trying to convince Glynis that we should buy two breakfast pastries and two rice and beans portions everyday, starting in June, and NEVER buy charcoal or cook again. This idea was not flying. Why cook, when we could go socialize and be cooked for AND not do dishes?

Sijui! (I don't know).

Anyway, I'm really excited for soccer. I just want to run around. I feel like all I've been doing is reading books and washing. Washing either my body or dishes or socks or the floor or my hair.

I could completely kill an entire day washing everything and still have more washing to do. I would rather wear a pair of pants 20 times and smell like a dirty chicken than wash my pants once. Better yet, I'd rather not wear pants and just tie a sheet around my waist.

As for the po-o, I dread it. (Po-o is short for potato sack oga, just fyi). It's possible I've mentioned this shower area (which is more of a bathing closet) in a past blog.

It's fascinating to oga (wash) in the foggy mud room, protected from the outside world only by potato sack, and watch the steam curl off my skin. I almost forget how cold I am when I fall into this steam-watching trance. It's a similar experience to watching a lava lamp. You've totally done it.

You thought Africa was hot? You're wrong. First of all, there are 50-some countries in Africa. Second, I'm in Tanzania and it's nearing winter. Third, Tanzania is not a small island off the coast of Australia. Even George W. Bush knows where Tanzania is. If you don't, I suggest you Google it asap.

Sorry about that small rant. I just can't believe how many people think I'm in Tasmania.

Anyway, back to kijijini (village). Yea, we've actually started to do work. It seemed a lot of volunteers were feeling sort of useless. Probably because all we had been doing for almost three months was training. Everyone is super glad we're finished with training.

I'm in Njombe today... I needed to buy a whistle and some slippers and kikoleo. However, no one seems to know what kikoleo are. I'm not even sure I know what they are. Maybe I'm confused.

Hopefully I can figure out how to play net ball or the girls of Makoga are going to be very disappointed in me. I thought they would be more excited for a soccer team, but the sports and games captain of the secondary school seems way more interested in net ball. So, I'll give the girls what they want.

I'm still attempting to understand my budget set-up for SPW. I have 350,00 TSH for the resource center, but it's divided among three different centers I'm supposed to have... but I only have one.

Oh well. As Baba Iringa always says, "Hamna shida."

1/2 Way Around the World and Reminded

2009-04-17T05:08:00.000-07:00

So, I just read a facebook notification from a former Sunflower House mate, Bridgit. I messaged her at the beginning of the week with questions about our friends and town and SFH. I opened up the email to find Bridgit sharing two-month-old, horrible news about our other former house mate, Dimitri Mavridorakis.

In the extremely wee hours of the morning, February 7th, Dim was helping a friend push his over-heated car into a hotel parking lot. Very suddenly, he was struck by a drunk driver. Dimitri was pronounced dead at the scene of the accident. I'm feeling weird about JUST finding out today.

I met Dimitri at the beginning our past Fall semester when he was interviewing to live at Sunflower House. His, was the best interview I ever attended. All the house mates ask the required interview questions, and then some crazy co-op kid questions as well.

Dim told us he was on an exchange program from France, working in Lawrence at KU on his MBA. That answer was part of the boring questions, but Dim also added, "I often hate my studies because business students are so boring. This is why I am wanting to live in the very strange and mysterious place you have all named after a flower."

When asked the more silly question, "If you could taste like anything, what would you taste like?"

Dim answered, "Well of course I would be tasting like shit because I do not wish to be eaten!"

He then proceeded to move into my hallway, First Floor South House.

Dim was cool with everyone. Probably everyone's favorite housemate simply because he was never involved in any house drama, he always did the jobs he signed up for, and even shared his food.

His sense of humor, love for life (cliche, I know), and dedication to the people he cared for and the goals he wanted to achieve still are amazing me while I think about Dim right now.

Once, only right when he was starting his MBA program, he asked me to proof one of his article analysis for class. Together we went through it and souped up the vocabulary. The following week, Dim brought home his A-paper and we put it on the fridge. We continued posting his A-papers around Sunflower House. We were all proud of our hilarious and super smart house mate.

Dimitri would take pictures of me on his iPhone when I passed out in the lounge on weekends. Many people often passed out in the lounge while talking or playing video games or attempting to use the wireless internet that only worked sometimes.

The Sunflower House was often extremely rank. However, this past fall especially, the residents at Sunflower House were more than house mates to each other. We were an eccentric, unique, cat-fighting gang of young idealists. We were best friends and worst enemies and lovers and brothers and sisters. We definitely could have had our own reality TV show.

Anyway, after the first week in village (and secondary culture shock of being in village) passed, I began to feel at home in Tanzania. I would even go so far and say I love being in Tanzania.

I sort of rediscovered how amazing the U.S., my family and friends are. Being in this developing country, easily allowed me to realize that. The thing is, I am to the point where, although I miss everyone, it doesn't hurt or prevent me from enjoying and being excited about Tanzania and SPW.

Reading Bridgit's message about Dimitri reminded me how far away I am. The worst part is honestly not knowing until just now. Maybe it's better though because a lot of the articles I read about Dimitri (after reading Bridgit's email I Googled him) weren't published until yesterday, even today.

I want to post these news links about Dimitri, what exactly happened, the tree that was planted on our university campus in his memory, and the case pending against the drunk driver.

This first link, about the tree, is definitely worth a read. KU just had the dedication ceremony YESTERDAY. Dimitri's parents and brother even flew in from France. I'm so proud of KU and Dim's fellow MBA students for planning the ceremony.

http://www.kansan.com/stories/2009/apr/16/trees_planted/

http://www.kansan.com/stories/2009/apr/17/hearing/

http://www2.ljworld.com/news/2009/feb/09/ku-identifies-grad-student-killed-saturday/

Other than feeling shocked and sad about the Dimitri news, a lot has been happening. This is an update I began writing before I checked my email. You'll probably notice the difference in tone.

*****

This morning, I woke up in Jolene's bed at the Ipogoro agricultural university SPW rents out for volunteer training. We started top-up training this past Tuesday. We finished yesterday night. Jolene was in Iringa Town last night. So, I slept in her bed.

I woke up feeling super excited because I am in Tanzania. That hasn't really happened before... WOW!

I facebook stalked some X-SPW to find the international volunteer, Jenny, who was in Makoga (my village) last year. Jenny sent me past emails of while she was in village and gave me tips about contacts and activities.

The first project I'm starting once back in village is a girls soccer team at the secondary school! Apparently, Jenny did this last year with the help of the 2nd headmaster. Whoop!

The students will have to samahani (kind of like 'excuse me') my crap soccer skills. Being crap at soccer never stopped me from playing in middle school... at least not until important games. Thanks coach.

They'll have to forgive me because I'll come baring balls! Just jokes. Really, I'm quite excited to play lady soccer as much as possible. Yay!

Iringa Region. Njombe District. MAKOGA!

2009-03-15T05:20:00.000-07:00

On Friday, the 13th of March, SPW-TZ finally announced partners, placements, and the official calendar. Hooray! My partner, Glynis, age 19, Dar Es Salaam, is possibly one of the loveliest people on planet Earth. I'm so glad to have her because everyone of the international volunteers loved her. Glynis has perfect English and she SPEAKS in class (which is, sadly, rare of a Tanzanian female). Luckily, I met her before anyone else and we go together like hummus and pita.

On Wednesday, we go shopping for our essential village items. We were placed in the Iringa Region, Njombe District, southern most village placement of Makoga. I'm super excited to go to village for many reasons, but also because the Ipogoro training center is similar to what I think prison would be like. It's not that bad, but it's pretty bad.

Yesterday night, we practiced festival organization skills, meaning we threw ourselves a party! We went to Darasani A (Classroom A). There was soda, and guess what. Dancing like a fool is always fun, no matter what you're sipping.

Thursday was a twilight zone of odd occurrences. Our lives seemed like bad (rather juicy) reality television. Mfano mmoja (example one): There we were, Laura, Liz, and me, sitting on the bunk beds in room namba saba (number seven). We were just eating ndizi (bananas), pondering how long until Laura's next package would arrive, when out from the shadows, a massive rat crawls from beneath the bed, scurries across the floor, and attempts to scuttle up the other bunk bed (Liz's bunk bed).

This rat was so fat that during it's failed first attempt up the side of Liz's bunk, it fumbled, and fell on Liz's head! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! You can only imagine the hysteria an African, cat-sized rat on your head will induce. I was there, and I can still only imagine. Liz let out a scream to wake the dead. Once she began screaming, of course Laura and I screamed too and ran out of the room as fast as we could, heading as far away from the rat as possible while shrieking our Wazungu (white people) heads off.

We made it all the way down the corridor to the bathrooms before the other girls bravely opened their doors to see what the heck had just gone down. Annabelle put it best when she said,

"Are you alright now, sweet? Sounded like you'd seen a corps. You really gave us a fright."

Maybe it was an over-reaction, however; this gigantic, very clumsy rat was so vile, there aren't even words. The first night at the Ipogoro training center, there was a panya (mouse) in my room. I thought that was bad, but this rat was ridiculous. It reminded me of the Princess Bride film with the R-U-S's (rodents of unusual size) or something like that in the Fire Swamp and Buttercup and that blond, bandit guy are almost devoured!! Our experience was very similar. Minus the fire.

Also on Thursday, I was slapped across the face by a feisty Tanzanian. This was the pre-game show to the rat extravaganza. What a day.

So Jolene and Keish and I are sitting on the cement porch (the silver lining of Ipogoro is all the covered out-door seating) eating crisps and wasting the afternoon when Cecilia and Amida suddenly walk-up. Keisha was cut off, mid-sentence, and Amida asked my name. No big deal. This kind of thing happens all the time.

"Ninaitwa Krista." (I am called Krista).

"Oh," says Cecilia, "We always confuse you with Liz."

Seriously, this is fair enough. Liz and I both have dark hair, glasses, an American accent, and white skin. Plus, Amida and Cecilia aren't in my training group, and have never spoken to me before. Which made it even more weird when Amida asked,

"Well, can we share your crisps?" First of all, they didn't even know my name, but I wasn't going there. I just explained that this was a very small bag of crisps. I purchased it with my stipend. They receive the exact same stipend, and since I was not prepared to share with 50 other girls, I was not going to share with just the two of them. Then Cecilia asked,

"What if we are placed together in village? Would you share?" and I responded,

"Of course I would share my crisps with my partner in village. I will share EVERYTHING with my partner in village. We'll be sharing a home, and a stipend, and a classroom of people. Then Cecilia and Amida say,

"We will write your name down FIRST for village preference!"

Well that's just not cool because village is for five months, and I didn't even know these girls, and we were turning-in village preference forms the following morning? So, I asked them politely not to write my name down because I'd already formed a strong bond with another volunteer. She and I were requesting to be partners. Amida says,

"That's discrimination. Why would you prefer our fellows to us?"

WOW! Yet another awkward Tanzania moment. I responded,

"That's not discrimination. The fact is, you have never even spoken to me before. The way you're behaving is incredibly rude. I actually think you only want to eat my crisps and make me feel badly for not giving them to you. We all receive the same stipend. You could buy your own crisps."

Amida just glared at me for about two seconds and then slapped me in the face. I was kind of shocked and just said,

"Pole," (Sorry). Then she walked off. Culture differences, you've gotta love 'em.

The past week has been super eventful, and the next is sure to be just as thrilling. Probably won't update as much (since I'll be living in a village), but at least once a month.

The Calendar:

March 20th-April 12th: Village Situation Analysis

April 12th-14th: Easter Vacation

April 15th-16th: Top-Up Training

April 17th-June14th: First Half Placement

June 14th-16th: Njombe Mid-Way Meetings

June 17th-26th: School Vacation

June 27-August 29th: Second Half Placement

August 30th-September 1st: Debriefing

September 9th: Flight out of Dar Es Salaam

September 10th-13th: Arrive in London with Keisha and Claire

September 13th: Depart Heathrow, arrive in Boston @8:35pm

It actually doesn't seem that far away.

52 Women and Two Toilets With Doors and I Don't Mind

2009-03-08T06:49:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, the international SPW vols and the Tanzanian vols finally met, and moved into the training center at an agricultural university down the hill from Iringa Town. We're staying in a part of Iringa called, "Ipogoro," and it's chizi kidogo (a little crazy).

I've met some really lovely people during this past week of training. Also, I'm pretty certain I found a partner for the village. Glynis, from Dar es Salaam, is 19 and planning to attend the international university there in Dar.

We begin placement trial on March 20th, and return to Iringa Town around Easter time for meetings and to discuss reports and plans for each placement school and village. That's in less than two weeks! P.S. My mind is being blown.

Our past weeks training involved culture differences between the internationals and Tanzanians (that session was mildly intense), peer education techniques, HIV/AIDS facts, STI symptoms and side effects, gender equality seminar, public speaking, etc. etc.

Gender equality and women empowerment is actually one of the largest issues we will be discussing in our SRH (sexual reproductive health) clubs and classes. Also, this is the third and final year for SPW in every single placement village. What does that mean? Basically, the volunteers in each placement will be focusing more on community awareness and training Tanzanian, in-village peer educators so SPW can move on to more villages and continue the grass roots movement that is HIV/AIDS/STI awareness and gender equality elsewhere - while still sustaining their work through local village volunteers.

All of the international volunteers have 100% become siblings. We all look after one another. It's slightly scary. I've never known so much about 10 strangers in 7 weeks. They all know the same amount about me. If one of the volunteers tells another volunteer one new piece of gossip, you can bet the other nine of us will know about it within an hour or less. This may have something to do with all of us being girls, except for Kyler. Very much a man. Sometimes we make him handle everything. Mfano (for example), taking our money and bartering for us. He's so great!

Anyway, everyone's Kiswahili is a lot better, but the national vols like to practice their Kiingereza. We, being native English speakers (other than Gwen, Dutch), love to speak English, but need to resist their temptation kwa sababu (because) in village, about 1 in 100 people will speak conversational English.

I found out some vacation dates! SPW should have 10-15 days following June 10th/12th-ish activity free. Just FYI, if anyone is sending mail/packages, just don't post any parcel, past late June. It may not arrive before I leave at the beginning of September, so it's better just not to send anything. Letters shouldn't be sent past August 1st.

It feels like September is weirdly close. My Internet time is pretty much done, so I'll post more soon since it's been about two-weeks. Love and miss everyone. It's been great to receive letters from Kezia and Paige and (surprise) even Grandma. The AMAZING package from my mom sent me into a chocolate comatose. Wow, it was amazing!

We had a talent show and I was asked to do something... so I gave in. This is my rap!

The Wazungu Rap

Ninaitwa Krista Jobst,
Na I rap in my sleep,
Sipendi mvua nyesha,
Ninapenda to eat!

Some like pasta,
Some like ugali,
Just pass me ndizi,
Tafadhali!

Rafiki zangu in town,
You're askin' me wapi?
Labda wanacheza,
Lakini hapa ni safi!

Nimechoka kidogo,
Na I have the ameoba,
Kiswahili kidogo,
Hamna shida!

Asante. Kwaheri.

40 adults, 3 babies, 2 chickens, and a partrage in a pear tree.

2009-02-15T08:49:00.000-08:00

And we're back! Njombe was cold and rainy and slightly depressing 1/2 the time. The other 1/2, it was lovely. Njombe has a waterfall, cheap food, some interesting plant life, and a few crazy mamas.

The coaster ride back from Njombe yesterday was not as intense as the ride there. Refer to the title of this post for a description of the ride there. Also know, there are 27 seats on a coaster.

Upon arriving in Iringa, there were packages! My fellow vol, Liz (age 24, US), received cookies, candy, books, glasses, and a fruit peeler. The cookies were full of sugar ants *sad face*. However, when Ali (age 24, UK, in Gana volunteering and teaching prior to coming to Tanzania) said, "So what. They're just ants," we started to take a second look at the sugar ants... I mean cookies.

I know what you're thinking, "They didn't," but we did. We did, and we have not regrets. I'm even vegetarian. The conclusion we reached was: Despite the presence of some scrawny, American sugar ants on these chocolate chunk cookies, this is Africa (TIA). We are not about to waste chocolate chunk cookies because of some ants. So, we shook off the ants and ate the entire package of cookies. Chocolate ant chunk cookies are amazing. I recommend them to everyone.

Liz couldn't bring a potential infestation into her host family's house. We had to eat them all. Plus, those sugar ants wouldn't survive the night on the main drag of down-town Iringa. This is malaria country. The bugs play by a whole new set of rules. You sprayed for mosquitoes and roaches, ha! Nice try. The micro evolution of those species is about 2 weeks ahead of your insecticide. Sorry, Charlie.

Liz is giving me the evil eye for some Internet time... as this is her host family's nyumbani. They share with me :-)

Ninapenda Iringa (I love Iringa).

Health update: Amoeba, abolished! Malaria test, negative! Ear infection, clearing up... I can hear more out of my right ear!

Upcoming events: We (vols) are relocating from host families to a training center on February 28th. We all really like our families, but we can visit them still. Next weekend or the weekend after, we planned a safari to Msembe/Ruaha National Park! It's only 50 dollars per person, and it's all day in our own caravan. This national park has over 1000 elephants :-)

Ex-vols of last year told us the first month is the most difficult. The general consensus is that we believe them. Everyone who was ill, is now recovering. The homesickness is fading and the anticipation for village is building. Our Kiswahili is improving and our skin is bronzing.

Kwaheri! (Bye)

"What this means? Oh my gosh!"

2009-02-11T06:07:00.000-08:00

The host family coordinator has kindly relocated me to another host family as mine was growing more ridiculous by the minute. Now I'm staying with an Aussie vol (Laura, age 24, mother goose of the group, walking pharmacy) and her host family.

Her actual host dada (sister) is taking exams in Dar es Salaam so her cousin is staying with us. I'll be honest, I cannot pronounce her name. She is a bit intense and often wears shoes that don't belong to her without asking. Laura's sandals and my flip-flops. Not a big deal though.

None of us mind too much when dada wears our shoes. She is super nice and super funny. She asked us what, "Oh my gosh!" meant yesterday. She now says, "Chill out," "My dear," and makes pinky promises. Maybe we're corrupting Dada with western culture, but I think she likes it.

Learning Kiswahili and visiting the hospital currently takes up most of my time. Sometimes the volunteers rap together (direct translations below):

"I've got an amoeba... Hamna shida!"

"Pass the ugali, tafadhali!"

Tafadhali: Please
Hamna shida: No problem
Ugali: I still don't really care for ugali.

Let's re-visit the subject of ugali. It truly does resemble mashed potatoes. It resembles mashed potatoes so much, its presence on the table catalyzes everyone to desire mashed potatoes and everything that (in the U.S.) goes along with them.

I was recently asked about items we international SPW volunteers need/want here in Tanzania. If you feel inclined to send anything other than a letter (we love those), go ahead and send socks, gum, snacks, anti-bacterial wipes, or art supplies for us to take to village. Just in case you wanted to know, I personally am partial to: Quaker brown sugar oatmeal squares, wheat thins, and orbit bubblemint whitening gum.

Also, consider drawing a funny picture and sending it (thanks to Paige for doing this)! Love it.

Although it may be hard to believe, other than people, international development and education volunteers miss familiar food above all. Weird, huh? I don't need to see a western toilet ever again, but sometimes I really miss popping open some taco chips and salsa. Not a big deal.

Right now, it rains in Njombe everyday. We (vols) are all very excited to return to warm, sunny, Iringa Town.

The address is:
SPW
Attn: Krista Jobst
P.O. Box 1270
Iringa, Tanzania

Nipo Hapa (I'm Here)

2009-02-05T04:56:00.000-08:00

The Njombe families have never hosted volunteers before. We find that the families say many words/phrases in English they kind of don't understand. Mfano (for example), all the families have advised us to feel at home and to be free. Despite these statements, they are super concerned over when, where, and how much food we eat, what time we return from school, and how often we study. If the families had not sparked hope with all the, "Be free!" business, maybe everyone would not have felt so shocked that our families really just want us to stay inside.

My host Mama (Grace) is 24 years old and has a 1 year old son, Matthew, whom she insists I bring back the United States with me in September. This conversation became way too convoluted, way too quickly because, "Ninasema Kiswahili kidogo," (I speak little Swahili). Jana (yesterday), Mama Grace also asked, "Why are you so skinny? Don't you want to be strong like your mother and sister? You think Elina is fat, don't you? And me, I am fat too, hmm!?"

AWKWARD.

I explained to Mama that I had been sick, and that I eat a lot after Kiswahili lessons. I said I think Elina and mama are very beautiful. I said it all in Swahili, and then asked if she understood.

Elina is our cousin and she is only 17. I was shocked when Mama asked if I thought she was fat! Ah! Anyway, I like them all just fine. The neighbors are always over, because we live in a quadplex of some sort. Our house is shared by three or four families. I can't exactly tell how many yet. But there are about 14 people wandering around who know me. I do not know all of them, but they all seem wonderful, and I hope to know them before we return to Iringa next week.

Mama Grace called me lazy for reading "so many books" and falling asleep before dinner at 10pm. She sent Elina into my bedroom with a candle... oh, by the way, there is no electricity in my room or the hall. All the other rooms (including the chicken room) have electricity though. Yea, the chickens have their own room with electricity. So, Elina comes in with a candle, wakes me up, laughs at me a lot while speaking VERY fast Swahili. I love Elina. She is amazing, but I can't understand her 90% of the time. Hopefully this will change soon.

Elina (direct translation) says, "Come have the food of the night with us. Mama will cry. She has made you ugali."

NOTE: Ugali - Add water and maize flour to the inside of your cooking device of choice. Bring to a boil. You're done. It looks like mashed potatoes, tastes like squishy bread. It's surprisingly delicious sometimes, but mostly kinda misleading and scary.

"Elina!" I say (in Swahili), "I want to sleep. I was dreaming. I am so sorry. Please let me sleep. I love you, Elina. PLEASE ask mama not to cry! I am very sorry.

The whole thing was pretty funny, and that was a lot of Swahili for me. Although it was extremely broken, Elina loved that I tried. She cackled her head off, patted my back, stroked my hair, all while replying far too fast for me to understand. All that matters here is that Elina got to laugh at the weak, lazy Mzungu, and the weak, lazy Mzungu got back to sleeping.

This morning I climbed out of the huge bed I've been sleeping in, opened the door, and there was lovely Elina. She was making tea (chai). She smiled at me and asked in Kiswahili if I rested well. I replied, "Ndiyo, asante. Ninapenda wewe." (Yes, thank you. I love you.) She laughed a bunch, and so did I.

Tanzania continues to surprise me with cultural differences, AND similarities. My latest discovery has been a hot drink other than instant coffee, tea, or goats milk. It tastes like peanut butter, beloved peanut butter, but is made from crushed soy beans or something.

Bring on the cultural experiences.

Cultural experiences thus far: Squat toilets, bucket baths, ugali, mosquito net tangled in my hair, marriage proposals to Ali (2 and counting), shaking hands with everyone, and a house boy named Fahki. I'll let your minds wander on the pronunciation of that.

Honesty

2009-02-02T05:16:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, the volunteers arrived in Njombe, Tanzania via coaster (in-between a Dala Dala and a charter bus). The ride was roughly five hours from Iringa. Njombe is quite a bit smaller than Iringa, but has electricity and Internet just the same. There seems to be far less running water, however.

On the ride here, the volunteers enjoyed buying corn-on-the-cob from out the window, reading British Cosmso, and sitting on each others' laps (as the coaster was packed beyond capacity). At one point, a chicken boarded.

Today, I visited the hospital for the third time in the last two weeks. I'm wondering if there is a membership card or something. That way, maybe next time I can leave with a couple Rx AND a free soda. Daktari (the doctor) prescribed some pain killers and an anti-biotic. We think a bug crawled in and out of my ear a few nights ago, leaving me with migraines and not much ability to hear out of my right ear. I'm optimistic though.

The whole being ill in a foreign country thing has been getting me down... Yesterday, I finished my five day dose of antibiotic for the amoeba that had been making its way through my intestines. I'm feeling better.

This has been the most difficult two weeks of my entire life. Maybe that says something about my entire life though. Life in the U.S. is a piece of chocolate cake. I am addicted to that chocolate cake. The volunteers often make jokes about how fat and spoiled we all are. That makes us feel better. "Toughen up," we all kind of joke. Then we hug... and buy some candy.

EVERYONE HAS LOST WEIGHT! Between "picking flowers" (a.k.a. using the bathroom a lot), walking three plus hours a day, and not wanting to stomach anymore ugali, we are thinning out like poles. We're all going shopping when we get back home.

The biggest shock factor from moving around Tanzania has been the usage of the word mzungu. It literally translates European, but is shouted at any and all white people. Everywhere we go small children or teens shout, "Mzungu! Mzungu!" and sometimes it's not an insult. Sometimes people will shout the word and then greet us in English, wanting to talk with us. Other times, it is shouted purely because we're white. The first day here, we scared a baby. The mom said, "She's never seen white people." So.......... it's different.

This trip has been amazing and enlightening so far. All of the volunteers are becoming really close friends. We are learning to love it pole pole (slowly).

Ninapenda Iringa

2009-01-21T05:48:00.000-08:00

Students Partnership Worldwide
Attn: Krista Jobst
PO Box 1270
Iringa, Tanzania

See up there? That's my address for the next eight months. Wow. This is the longest time I'll have ever been away from my family and friends. So far, it hasn't been bad. Other than a handful of Americans, I miss toilets, showers, sinks, my bicycle, my bed, and coffee makers the most. TV is everywhere and so is electricity and internet (at least for now).

On Monday, the 10 other international volunteers and myself began our six week Kiswahili intensive training. Monday through Saturday, from 8am until 2:30pm, we study Kiswahili. We have an hour lunch and a couple 15 minute breaks. Other than that, Ishmael hammers our brains with the language. He is quick and very intelligent, but an understanding mwalimu (teacher).

The volunteers are: Australia - Laura 24, Annabelle 17. New Zealand - Jolene 27. UK - Lakeisha 21, Doratea 27, Ali 23, Claire 21. Belgium - Gwen, 25. USA - Kyler 21, Liz 24, and me :-)

I need to go study Kiswahili now... tutaonana badaaye (see you later)!