Friday, March 19, 2010
Lushoto for the Weekend
I travelled back to Tanga on Wednesday, went to school on Thursday and finished the 3rd grade pen pal project, and am now heading off to Lushoto with the Kindergarten teacher today. I have about 25 blogs waiting to be written after everything I've seen and done this past week, but it will have to wait until I return. If only the internet could connect to my brain dictations!
Monday, March 15, 2010
Off to Dar
I was woken up at 2am last night by an epiphany that just couldn't seem to wait until morning. Halifa is going to Dar es Salaam to get his visa today, and I have been helping him with this process for the past few days. I've decided to accompany him on his trip to the US Embassy in Dar es Salaam and am looking forward to my upcoming adventure. Can't wait to share when I get back!
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Birthday Dinner
I was invited to dinner at another teacher’s house this week, but found out on the morning of that it was her birthday! I felt very bad that she was preparing to host me on her birthday, but knowing that my protesting would come to naught I asked my host brother to go into town with me to buy a cake for her.
There were no prepared cakes available, but they were selling triangular slices of decorated cake by the slice. I knew of seven people that would be coming to dinner, but knowing that more always show up I thought I would buy 10 pieces at a total cost of less than $5. My host brother told me that it was too much cake and was able to talk me down to buying only 8 slices. After that we went to buy a card from the stationary store and went home.
Later that evening we walked over to the teacher’s house, cake in hand. She was very surprised and was both happy and embarrassed by the gesture. She put it away and went to finish cooking, leaving me, my host brother, and her three kids to sit awkwardly in silence in her living room. I never thought I’d be grateful for a power outage, but when the lights went out 5 minutes later it did wonders to break the ice. They brought out candles and a torch (better known by Americans as a flashlight) and we started eating.
For dinner we ate rice with a tomato-based sauce, cabbage, and fried chicken. I get very nervous with no one talking while eating their food, and tend to plow right through whatever I’m eating before looking up to see that no one else has even made a dent in their food. I then start talking to myself in my head, cursing at my neighbor for not eating fast enough and encouraging the person across from me to take bigger bites at the same time as I start limiting myself to two or three grains of rice per spoonful.
By the time I had finished everything on my plate that required a spoon, I got to work on my drumstick. The meat was tougher than anything I’ve ever eaten before and proved to be quite the opponent. However, my struggle to pick it apart allowed me to catch up with everyone else in the race to be the last one finished.
After dinner came sodas, and then cake. The teacher pulled out only 2 of the 8 pieces I had purchased and began cutting them in half again, and again, and again, until she had about twenty itty-bitty pieces. After butchering the lovely cakes I had bought for her, she stuck toothpicks in them and then began feeding all of her guests (Luckily I had had this experience once before at a local graduation, so I knew what was going on). We took pictures as she stuffed our faces with cake on toothpicks, and when it came to be my turn to be fed I found myself more than relieved that I would only be asked to eat the tiny piece of cardboard a toothpick.
I spent the rest of the evenings playing handclapping games with her eight year old daughter and snapping a few final pictures. Everyone had a great evening and was sad to have it end when my host father came to pick me up. Happy Birthday Zuleah!
There were no prepared cakes available, but they were selling triangular slices of decorated cake by the slice. I knew of seven people that would be coming to dinner, but knowing that more always show up I thought I would buy 10 pieces at a total cost of less than $5. My host brother told me that it was too much cake and was able to talk me down to buying only 8 slices. After that we went to buy a card from the stationary store and went home.
Later that evening we walked over to the teacher’s house, cake in hand. She was very surprised and was both happy and embarrassed by the gesture. She put it away and went to finish cooking, leaving me, my host brother, and her three kids to sit awkwardly in silence in her living room. I never thought I’d be grateful for a power outage, but when the lights went out 5 minutes later it did wonders to break the ice. They brought out candles and a torch (better known by Americans as a flashlight) and we started eating.
For dinner we ate rice with a tomato-based sauce, cabbage, and fried chicken. I get very nervous with no one talking while eating their food, and tend to plow right through whatever I’m eating before looking up to see that no one else has even made a dent in their food. I then start talking to myself in my head, cursing at my neighbor for not eating fast enough and encouraging the person across from me to take bigger bites at the same time as I start limiting myself to two or three grains of rice per spoonful.
By the time I had finished everything on my plate that required a spoon, I got to work on my drumstick. The meat was tougher than anything I’ve ever eaten before and proved to be quite the opponent. However, my struggle to pick it apart allowed me to catch up with everyone else in the race to be the last one finished.
After dinner came sodas, and then cake. The teacher pulled out only 2 of the 8 pieces I had purchased and began cutting them in half again, and again, and again, until she had about twenty itty-bitty pieces. After butchering the lovely cakes I had bought for her, she stuck toothpicks in them and then began feeding all of her guests (Luckily I had had this experience once before at a local graduation, so I knew what was going on). We took pictures as she stuffed our faces with cake on toothpicks, and when it came to be my turn to be fed I found myself more than relieved that I would only be asked to eat the tiny piece of cardboard a toothpick.
I spent the rest of the evenings playing handclapping games with her eight year old daughter and snapping a few final pictures. Everyone had a great evening and was sad to have it end when my host father came to pick me up. Happy Birthday Zuleah!
3rd Grade Project
I spent this past week with the 3rd grade students. I went back and forth between the two sections learning and helping to teach Math, English, Social Studies, and Communications.
I was left on my own more than once, being forced to make up a lesson on my own. My favorite example of this is when the English teacher chose to sit in her office rather than coming to her afternoon class. I already knew what she was teaching because I had sat in on her morning class, so I decided to go ahead with the lesson. The students were learning prepositions, specifically on, under, in, in front of, and behind. I also knew that the previous class didn’t learn very much from their morning lecture because I had the privilege of grading their exercises, so I decided to mix it up a bit for the afternoon class.
I started the class by standing on my desk, and asked the students, “Where is the teacher?” They were a little freaked out by it, but they were all laughing as they told me, "The teacher is ON the desk!" After that I crawled under the desk, and then stood both in front of and behind it. To check their understanding, I had a student come up and asked him to stand in the various locations. As a final challenge, I asked him to position himself IN the desk….at which point he literally tried to stuff himself in the desk drawer, causing another spell of uncontrollable laughter.
In any case, I knew the 3rd grade Key School class was learning about Africa this past week, so I wanted to do a project between the two classes. I suggested that we start with a simple pen pal exchange, asking pointed questions that would allow students in both countries to compare common cultural themes (food, family, weather, etc.) I then started pulling in elements that the students were learning in other classes. By the end of the week, the students had all drawn the Tanzanian flag and explained its significance (something they had just learned in their social studies class), and addressed the envelopes for sending the letters to Key School (something they are learning about in their communications class).
I’ll be putting the letters in the mail this week and then eagerly waiting for the Key School letters to arrive, hopefully sometime before I head home. I’m already starting to think about new projects to do as I move to other grade levels, and would love to hear your input. So far I have thought of doing a song exchange where the students write out the Tanzanian national anthem and other patriotic songs in Kiswahili. After that they will try and translate them into English and exchange them with similar projects completed by Key School students. I then hope to set up a Skype conference where both classes sing the songs they have selected to each other. I’m not sure where everyone’s interest lies exactly, but I’m very open to new ideas!
I was left on my own more than once, being forced to make up a lesson on my own. My favorite example of this is when the English teacher chose to sit in her office rather than coming to her afternoon class. I already knew what she was teaching because I had sat in on her morning class, so I decided to go ahead with the lesson. The students were learning prepositions, specifically on, under, in, in front of, and behind. I also knew that the previous class didn’t learn very much from their morning lecture because I had the privilege of grading their exercises, so I decided to mix it up a bit for the afternoon class.
I started the class by standing on my desk, and asked the students, “Where is the teacher?” They were a little freaked out by it, but they were all laughing as they told me, "The teacher is ON the desk!" After that I crawled under the desk, and then stood both in front of and behind it. To check their understanding, I had a student come up and asked him to stand in the various locations. As a final challenge, I asked him to position himself IN the desk….at which point he literally tried to stuff himself in the desk drawer, causing another spell of uncontrollable laughter.
In any case, I knew the 3rd grade Key School class was learning about Africa this past week, so I wanted to do a project between the two classes. I suggested that we start with a simple pen pal exchange, asking pointed questions that would allow students in both countries to compare common cultural themes (food, family, weather, etc.) I then started pulling in elements that the students were learning in other classes. By the end of the week, the students had all drawn the Tanzanian flag and explained its significance (something they had just learned in their social studies class), and addressed the envelopes for sending the letters to Key School (something they are learning about in their communications class).
I’ll be putting the letters in the mail this week and then eagerly waiting for the Key School letters to arrive, hopefully sometime before I head home. I’m already starting to think about new projects to do as I move to other grade levels, and would love to hear your input. So far I have thought of doing a song exchange where the students write out the Tanzanian national anthem and other patriotic songs in Kiswahili. After that they will try and translate them into English and exchange them with similar projects completed by Key School students. I then hope to set up a Skype conference where both classes sing the songs they have selected to each other. I’m not sure where everyone’s interest lies exactly, but I’m very open to new ideas!
Waterless + Powerless = Adventurous
Tanga has been having severe public utilities problems lately. This is unusual for the city, so it has been the talk of the town. We had a major water outage as a result of a power failure somewhere near the source that lasted almost a full day and have been having multiple power outages every week.
Yesterday I was taking a bath out of a bucket due to a lack of running water. I have developed a system for this process and consider myself to be quite the expert at this point. This involves applying shampoo and soap simultaneously so as to maximize the effectiveness of the water.
In any case, just as I was finishing shampooing my hair, the power cut out. It was 8pm and there was absolutely no light to be had. I stood there in the dark for a few minutes before I began laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. I pulled myself together, realized that I had everything I needed to finish taking my shower, dry off, and get dressed without too much trouble. I’m just glad it happened during week 6 instead of week 1!
Yesterday I was taking a bath out of a bucket due to a lack of running water. I have developed a system for this process and consider myself to be quite the expert at this point. This involves applying shampoo and soap simultaneously so as to maximize the effectiveness of the water.
In any case, just as I was finishing shampooing my hair, the power cut out. It was 8pm and there was absolutely no light to be had. I stood there in the dark for a few minutes before I began laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. I pulled myself together, realized that I had everything I needed to finish taking my shower, dry off, and get dressed without too much trouble. I’m just glad it happened during week 6 instead of week 1!
Time Change
Apparently we got one hour closer to each other this weekend! Hopefully this will open up some more room for communication….but probably not by too much. Can’t wait to mess up the time calculations in the coming weeks as I plan more Skype sessions!
PK Performance
On Sunday I woke up with little confidence that I would be playing soccer later that day. However, my host brother, knowing my overwhelming excitement, told me not to worry, and was able to make it happen.
The first obstacle was meeting up with the team. I had arranged to meet the team at school (only a 3 minute drive from our house) and then caravan to the game. No one seemed to think that this was a practical idea, so we went ahead and drove to the field without meeting up with them…..about sixty kilometers away. We drove on the main highway for almost an hour before turning off a random dirt road, headed for nowhere. I didn’t have the phone number of anyone on our team, and we didn’t know where the field was. Thankfully, we found the field without too much trouble, because my guilt over making my host family drive that far for nothing was ever increasing. The only thing that was missing was my team.
I have never been so thankful that my host brother came along for the ride, because I was quite the spectacle for everyone in the village to see. Around a hundred or more children and adults came out to see me twiddling my thumbs, waiting for my team to arrive and hoping that they’ll do so before the sun goes down.
About forty-five minutes and one car breakdown later, the team arrived ready to play. They gave me my uniform assigned me to position number 7 (offensive right wing) and off we went!
With oversized cleats, undersized socks, and no shin guards….I wasn’t too effective for most of the first half. At one point, however, I pulled off some fancy footwork and to get around a defender and the crowd went wild laughing, screaming, and shouting. I had forgotten everyone was there and almost fell over with the surge of noise.
At half time spirits were a little low because the other team had managed to score a goal. There was no pep talk or anything so I used the break to change out of my oversized shoes and back into my regular sneakers that I have been using at practice.
During the second half I got a little bit more into the groove. Being less anxious about tripping and falling flat on my face was certainly helpful, and I started to really play the game. About 23 minutes into the half I saw made a great connecting pass to player in front of the goal and handed it off for a beautiful give-and-go to the goal. However, before he had the chance to pass the ball back to me for the shot, he was taken down by one of the defenders in the box.
Penalty kick. The chance to tie it up. I figured that the player who had been taken down would be given the opportunity to take the shot, but everyone, without any hesitation, called for me to take the kick. I protested to the point that they asked me if I even knew how to take a penalty kick before agreeing to shoot the ball. I looked around the field for the first time, and saw spectators lined up shoulder to shoulder around the entire perimeter of the field, sometimes even two or three rows thick.
I immediately lost all sensation in my legs and began to feel a little dizzy. As my breathing started to get a little panicy, I took a few deep breaths and tried to find my zen. My number one mistake in penalty kick situations is to kick it over the net, so I kept repeating myself, “shoot low, shoot low...”
Shoot low I asked for and shoot low I did -- right past the keeper’s right foot. GOOOOOOAAAAAALLLLLLL! I have no clue how it all happened, but the crowd went wild. Even the other team was giving me high-fives as we all jogged back to reset.
For the rest of the game I kept praying for the referee to blow the final whistle. I was still woozy with anxiety from taking the penalty kick and was more or less useless after that point. The game finally ended with a score of 1 – 1 and rush of people onto the field to come shake my hand.
After the game we took a bunch of pictures with the locals. They must not have been used to flash photography because after every picture the kids would run off in every which direction as if a bomb had gone off or something. Then they would come back and repeat the whole process again.
I have to thank my parents and coaches for all of the years of supporting my passion for soccer. While I never ended up being Mia Hamm, I certainly had the chance to feel like a World Cup player last weekend. If I had to hang up my boots tomorrow I could walk away feeling totally fulfilled.
The first obstacle was meeting up with the team. I had arranged to meet the team at school (only a 3 minute drive from our house) and then caravan to the game. No one seemed to think that this was a practical idea, so we went ahead and drove to the field without meeting up with them…..about sixty kilometers away. We drove on the main highway for almost an hour before turning off a random dirt road, headed for nowhere. I didn’t have the phone number of anyone on our team, and we didn’t know where the field was. Thankfully, we found the field without too much trouble, because my guilt over making my host family drive that far for nothing was ever increasing. The only thing that was missing was my team.
I have never been so thankful that my host brother came along for the ride, because I was quite the spectacle for everyone in the village to see. Around a hundred or more children and adults came out to see me twiddling my thumbs, waiting for my team to arrive and hoping that they’ll do so before the sun goes down.
About forty-five minutes and one car breakdown later, the team arrived ready to play. They gave me my uniform assigned me to position number 7 (offensive right wing) and off we went!
With oversized cleats, undersized socks, and no shin guards….I wasn’t too effective for most of the first half. At one point, however, I pulled off some fancy footwork and to get around a defender and the crowd went wild laughing, screaming, and shouting. I had forgotten everyone was there and almost fell over with the surge of noise.
At half time spirits were a little low because the other team had managed to score a goal. There was no pep talk or anything so I used the break to change out of my oversized shoes and back into my regular sneakers that I have been using at practice.
During the second half I got a little bit more into the groove. Being less anxious about tripping and falling flat on my face was certainly helpful, and I started to really play the game. About 23 minutes into the half I saw made a great connecting pass to player in front of the goal and handed it off for a beautiful give-and-go to the goal. However, before he had the chance to pass the ball back to me for the shot, he was taken down by one of the defenders in the box.
Penalty kick. The chance to tie it up. I figured that the player who had been taken down would be given the opportunity to take the shot, but everyone, without any hesitation, called for me to take the kick. I protested to the point that they asked me if I even knew how to take a penalty kick before agreeing to shoot the ball. I looked around the field for the first time, and saw spectators lined up shoulder to shoulder around the entire perimeter of the field, sometimes even two or three rows thick.
I immediately lost all sensation in my legs and began to feel a little dizzy. As my breathing started to get a little panicy, I took a few deep breaths and tried to find my zen. My number one mistake in penalty kick situations is to kick it over the net, so I kept repeating myself, “shoot low, shoot low...”
Shoot low I asked for and shoot low I did -- right past the keeper’s right foot. GOOOOOOAAAAAALLLLLLL! I have no clue how it all happened, but the crowd went wild. Even the other team was giving me high-fives as we all jogged back to reset.
For the rest of the game I kept praying for the referee to blow the final whistle. I was still woozy with anxiety from taking the penalty kick and was more or less useless after that point. The game finally ended with a score of 1 – 1 and rush of people onto the field to come shake my hand.
After the game we took a bunch of pictures with the locals. They must not have been used to flash photography because after every picture the kids would run off in every which direction as if a bomb had gone off or something. Then they would come back and repeat the whole process again.
I have to thank my parents and coaches for all of the years of supporting my passion for soccer. While I never ended up being Mia Hamm, I certainly had the chance to feel like a World Cup player last weekend. If I had to hang up my boots tomorrow I could walk away feeling totally fulfilled.
Bottled Up
This morning I went into town with my host father to get drinks for a party later today. We put three crates of empty glass soda bottles in the car and headed out to exchange them.
When we got there, Godfrey got very frustrated and got back in the car to head home without getting any new bottles. Apparently there were two 7Up bottles mixed in with the other soda bottles. Our Coca Cola product filled crate was therefore contaminated with Pepsi products, making the exchange a no-go. We went home, switched out the 7Up for Fanta and Sprite, and went back to the store.
Later, I asked Godfrey about bottle exchange in this country. It is apparently about 60% more economical to exchange crates than to buy new ones. It is much cheaper for the factories to sterilize the bottles than to make new ones, so the incentive to return bottles is very high.
When we got there, Godfrey got very frustrated and got back in the car to head home without getting any new bottles. Apparently there were two 7Up bottles mixed in with the other soda bottles. Our Coca Cola product filled crate was therefore contaminated with Pepsi products, making the exchange a no-go. We went home, switched out the 7Up for Fanta and Sprite, and went back to the store.
Later, I asked Godfrey about bottle exchange in this country. It is apparently about 60% more economical to exchange crates than to buy new ones. It is much cheaper for the factories to sterilize the bottles than to make new ones, so the incentive to return bottles is very high.
Meat Soup...For Breakfast
I got a text last night from Halifa asking to go get soup at a local restaurant at 3:00. I assumed that soup constitutes lunch, so I figured he was telling the time in the “regular” fashion instead of based on Swahili time.
Well we all know what assuming does. At 9:00 the next morning I got another text saying that he was on his way. I was still sleeping, thoroughly exhausted from a full day at the beach yesterday, and had to scramble to get ready. I tried to put on my best awake face and went outside to meet him.
At the restaurant, we got the local goat soup, chapati, and a boiled banana. My palate was a little shocked by my choice of breakfast, but my eyes were even more shocked by the shapes of meat products in the soup. Some pieces were just regular meat on bones, others were spiny and gelatinous, others still resembled gills and perhaps tongues. The soup itself was actually pretty good, but I didn’t have the will power to try all of these new forms of meat that early in the morning (nor to ask what they were for that matter). I did the best I could, and was very grateful when they took my bowl away and replaced it with a bottle of Fanta Orange.
I ended up having a great time overall. A few of Halifa’s friends came to join us and we sat and talked (in Kiswinglish, of course) about Halifa’s upcoming visit to the States, the differences between America and Tanzania, and plans for my last five weekends in Tanzania.
I was later told by my host father, however, that the breakfast I ate is ideal for people who like to drink away their day…good thing we’re having a big party later today!
Well we all know what assuming does. At 9:00 the next morning I got another text saying that he was on his way. I was still sleeping, thoroughly exhausted from a full day at the beach yesterday, and had to scramble to get ready. I tried to put on my best awake face and went outside to meet him.
At the restaurant, we got the local goat soup, chapati, and a boiled banana. My palate was a little shocked by my choice of breakfast, but my eyes were even more shocked by the shapes of meat products in the soup. Some pieces were just regular meat on bones, others were spiny and gelatinous, others still resembled gills and perhaps tongues. The soup itself was actually pretty good, but I didn’t have the will power to try all of these new forms of meat that early in the morning (nor to ask what they were for that matter). I did the best I could, and was very grateful when they took my bowl away and replaced it with a bottle of Fanta Orange.
I ended up having a great time overall. A few of Halifa’s friends came to join us and we sat and talked (in Kiswinglish, of course) about Halifa’s upcoming visit to the States, the differences between America and Tanzania, and plans for my last five weekends in Tanzania.
I was later told by my host father, however, that the breakfast I ate is ideal for people who like to drink away their day…good thing we’re having a big party later today!
Fun in the Sun
Yesterday I was invited to go to the beach with Emanuel (my tutee), his mom (a teacher at Chumbageni), and six 7th grade students from the school. I was very excited to go, and wanting to contribute to the picnic, went over to their home at 10:00am to help cook.
When I arrived there were at least 8 girls crammed into the small apartment helping with the operation. I didn’t realize there would be so many hands involved in the process, but they were still happy to have me.
There was no electricity due to yet another power outage, but we were cooking on a charcoal stove so it wasn’t any inconvenience. We made French fries (called chips), meat, bananas, and hot sauce. The quantity of food was overwhelming, but they seemed to have everything under control. I helped with some occasional stirring and cutting, but mostly wound up just practicing my Swahili with the students.
I pulled out my camera and taught them how to take pictures, allowed them to play with my hair, and talked about life in America. After a few hours, I went home to get my things for the beach and have a quick rest.
When I returned to the apartment an hour later, the food was still cooking, but almost finished. Out of nowhere all of the girls started changing clothes and putting on makeup, leaving me feeling more than slightly underdressed. I asked them what they planned to swim in when we got the beach, but apparently their selection of nice clothes was suitable for swimming. They finished getting ready, and headed out to the beach, leaving me and the teacher to pack up the food and meet them there.
I wasn’t quite sure how we would transport all of the food, and was really surprised when the she pulled out a bunch of small, plastic, black bags used at the supermarkets. We filled each bag with individual sized portions of food, tied the tops closed, stuffed them in a big bag, and headed out to the beach.
For transportation we took a daladala, bursting at the seams with at least 30 passengers. I spilled juice on one of the passengers, making her very displeased with me, and smacked a lot of people in the face with my backpack. The daladala also didn’t complete its route for some reason, leaving us to walk the remaining third of a mile from our destination.
The items we were carrying were very heavy. The teacher and I each took one handle of the bag and started trekking. After five minutes, my hands were numb and my kanga was falling off, so the teacher decided to take carry the bag herself……on her head. I tried to convince her to let me help, but to no avail. I can only imagine how her neck must have felt.
When we arrived there were close to 20 students waiting for us. We all hopped in the ocean and had a great afternoon splashing around in the water.
The only negatives of the trip were that there was not enough food for everyone (although I really don’t know how that was possible), someone walked off with my football, and there were no daladalas running when we finished so we had to walk the whole way home.
On the positive side are all of those negative things, plus everything else about the experience. Everyone is really concerned about me if I have to walk or carry something, or don’t get enough food…..but for me it’s just all part of the fun!
When I arrived there were at least 8 girls crammed into the small apartment helping with the operation. I didn’t realize there would be so many hands involved in the process, but they were still happy to have me.
There was no electricity due to yet another power outage, but we were cooking on a charcoal stove so it wasn’t any inconvenience. We made French fries (called chips), meat, bananas, and hot sauce. The quantity of food was overwhelming, but they seemed to have everything under control. I helped with some occasional stirring and cutting, but mostly wound up just practicing my Swahili with the students.
I pulled out my camera and taught them how to take pictures, allowed them to play with my hair, and talked about life in America. After a few hours, I went home to get my things for the beach and have a quick rest.
When I returned to the apartment an hour later, the food was still cooking, but almost finished. Out of nowhere all of the girls started changing clothes and putting on makeup, leaving me feeling more than slightly underdressed. I asked them what they planned to swim in when we got the beach, but apparently their selection of nice clothes was suitable for swimming. They finished getting ready, and headed out to the beach, leaving me and the teacher to pack up the food and meet them there.
I wasn’t quite sure how we would transport all of the food, and was really surprised when the she pulled out a bunch of small, plastic, black bags used at the supermarkets. We filled each bag with individual sized portions of food, tied the tops closed, stuffed them in a big bag, and headed out to the beach.
For transportation we took a daladala, bursting at the seams with at least 30 passengers. I spilled juice on one of the passengers, making her very displeased with me, and smacked a lot of people in the face with my backpack. The daladala also didn’t complete its route for some reason, leaving us to walk the remaining third of a mile from our destination.
The items we were carrying were very heavy. The teacher and I each took one handle of the bag and started trekking. After five minutes, my hands were numb and my kanga was falling off, so the teacher decided to take carry the bag herself……on her head. I tried to convince her to let me help, but to no avail. I can only imagine how her neck must have felt.
When we arrived there were close to 20 students waiting for us. We all hopped in the ocean and had a great afternoon splashing around in the water.
The only negatives of the trip were that there was not enough food for everyone (although I really don’t know how that was possible), someone walked off with my football, and there were no daladalas running when we finished so we had to walk the whole way home.
On the positive side are all of those negative things, plus everything else about the experience. Everyone is really concerned about me if I have to walk or carry something, or don’t get enough food…..but for me it’s just all part of the fun!
Tailor Made
Two weeks ago the kindergarten teacher bought fabric for us to make twin dresses with. We finally had the chance to go to the tailor yesterday and spent a good part of the morning trying to track down the woman who would do it for us. We finally found her in her very small home with only two couches, a television and a small room for storage. There were many small apartments like this under one roof, with an area in the middle for hanging clothes and cooking. I’m not quite sure where anyone sleeps, but everything in those living quarters seemed to be a team effort.
Anyway, we both got measured for our dresses and played with the kids while we waited for her to finish. The dresses cost 10,000 shillings a piece and should be ready next week. Pictures to follow!
Anyway, we both got measured for our dresses and played with the kids while we waited for her to finish. The dresses cost 10,000 shillings a piece and should be ready next week. Pictures to follow!
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