Hopefully we will be having another Skype conference with Key School on Thursday between the 4th grade class at Key and a group of 5th graders here at Chumbageni Primary School. The topic of this Skype conversation will be food, so I am hoping to spend some time preparing with the students before the meeting.
The teacher who will help facilitate the conference is the 5th grade English teacher. I joined her in class today thinking that we would be reviewing some English related to food, but we instead just proceeded with their syllabus. They were working on reading comprehension and focusing on a story about a woman who successfully stops a thief who is running away with stolen goods.
The students initially struggled to read the passage, managing to pronounce the syllables and words but not necessarily grasping the meaning of the sentences. After reading the story two times, they still were not able to answer the basic questions that accompanied the story or find the answer in the passage.
In the middle of one of these comprehension questions, the teacher got a phone call and stepped out to answer it. I waited for a few minutes for her to return, but when she didn’t I decided that I might as well proceed with the lesson. The story was actually pretty entertaining and relatively simple to act out, so I got to work.
I asked for seven students to come up and play the role of an old woman, two cows, a thief, and two victims. We then walked through the story line by line with mooing cows, screaming victims, the old woman gasping with fear, and the thief finally tripping over a bundle of grass, hitting his head on a rock, and being taken to jail. The kids were laughing as I proceeded to embarrass myself with a variety of sound effects and stunts.
The teacher returned part way through our second rehearsal and I went to go sit down. Seeing what we were doing, she decided to let me continue and started helping by translating some key words in the story and helping the kids in Kiswahili when they didn’t understand what we were saying. We were all getting into the story and having a great time, and after our fourth run-through of the story we stopped to go over the remaining comprehension questions – and guess what? Almost every kid had their hand in the air wanting to answer the questions, and all of their responses were 100% correct.
I am now completely hoarse, but it was totally worth it.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Victoria's Birthday
Today was Victoria’s birthday. I woke up extra early to give her a small present and help her get everything together for the morning. While eating breakfast, her daughter called to tell her she wanted to send her mom flowers. Suzy is going to college about 6 hours away from here and unfortunately couldn’t come celebrate with us today.
Forgetting about the different modes of mail transportation in this country, I wrote off Suzy’s comment about the flowers as a joke. So when Chief came home from the bus station with two dozen fresh roses Victoria got a great laugh at my very confused expression. I guess in this country it’s feasible to forget a special occasion for a friend or loved one living far away and still get something to them on that very same day!
Anyway, I helped prepare the food Victoria wanted to eat today and set up tables on the roof of the house to eat dinner in the fresh evening air. A few friends came over for the celebration and we had a great time stuffing each others’ faces with cake before even getting to the main course. Happy Birthday, Victoria!
Forgetting about the different modes of mail transportation in this country, I wrote off Suzy’s comment about the flowers as a joke. So when Chief came home from the bus station with two dozen fresh roses Victoria got a great laugh at my very confused expression. I guess in this country it’s feasible to forget a special occasion for a friend or loved one living far away and still get something to them on that very same day!
Anyway, I helped prepare the food Victoria wanted to eat today and set up tables on the roof of the house to eat dinner in the fresh evening air. A few friends came over for the celebration and we had a great time stuffing each others’ faces with cake before even getting to the main course. Happy Birthday, Victoria!
Winging It
Today I was starting to get a little bored listening to lectures in Swahili so I went for a walk to check in with Victoria and say happy birthday again. On my way to her office, I was stopped by a bunch of rowdy 7th graders and invited to come join them in class. Apparently they didn’t have a teacher and had nothing to do for the entire afternoon.
I usually just walk past this noisy bunch with a smile, a wave, and a few Swahili greetings, but today I felt inclined to stop and check out the scene. I asked a teacher in the neighboring classroom to see whether they were yanking my chain. She confirmed there was no teacher and I was welcome to step in if I dared…
7th graders. The oldest age group at Chumbageni Primary School. Supposedly almost ready to move to an entirely English-based education the next year. These kids are big and they are high energy. I figured trying to lecture them would be boring so I started by asking them what they knew about the CHUMS partnership with Key School and went from there.
Turns out they knew just about nothing. As far as the world map was concerned, Key School lies anywhere between the Atlantic Ocean and Alaska. America is also called the United States of America, or USA, and there are about two or four total states in the country. We also have tribes and are all white. Of course those are just a few of the answers that were thrown out there as I threw questions at them, but their answers made for some great discussions.
After a while the students started to get more comfortable with me and asked questions like how much school fees are in the states, what a computer costs, and what the most common names are for boys and girls in the US. They also sang me some songs and one kid even got up and danced for us much to the delight of the class…..and my cringing expecting the teacher next door to come in with a stick ready to establish some order and then seeing me there “teaching.”
I wanted to cover as many subjects as possible, so after roughly discussing Geography and History while speaking in Kiswinglish, we switched over to math. I tried to get them to convert shillings into dollars….which was a terrible mathematical disaster……but still fun anyways. I ended up just doing the calculations for them and comparing some everyday items like soda bottles and pencils.
At school the bell rings every 40 minutes to indicate class switches. I must have heard the bell at least twice while I was with the kids, and every time I asked them, “Tumemaliza? Are we done?” And they would say, “Bado! Not yet!”
I definitely didn’t always have their attention but it was a rush trying to think of interesting things to talk about or compare that I could say in Kiswahili or that they would be able to understand in English. We finished off by talking about different types of communications and their tradeoffs (e.g. cost vs. time) which ultimately ended up in a very interesting discussion about how cell phone technologies and their use of satellites. Anyway, I was exhausted by the end of the day, but happy to have made some new friends.
P.S. I forgot to mention that we were interrupted at some point in the middle of our afternoon powwow to tally up the ages of all the students in our class. The range was from age 12 to 18 with most students lining up somewhere in the middle of that. It was interesting to watch the social dynamic as the scornful giggles increased with age, but I wasn’t at all surprised given that these kids either eat oversized portions of Wheaties for breakfast or are older than the average 7th grader.
I usually just walk past this noisy bunch with a smile, a wave, and a few Swahili greetings, but today I felt inclined to stop and check out the scene. I asked a teacher in the neighboring classroom to see whether they were yanking my chain. She confirmed there was no teacher and I was welcome to step in if I dared…
7th graders. The oldest age group at Chumbageni Primary School. Supposedly almost ready to move to an entirely English-based education the next year. These kids are big and they are high energy. I figured trying to lecture them would be boring so I started by asking them what they knew about the CHUMS partnership with Key School and went from there.
Turns out they knew just about nothing. As far as the world map was concerned, Key School lies anywhere between the Atlantic Ocean and Alaska. America is also called the United States of America, or USA, and there are about two or four total states in the country. We also have tribes and are all white. Of course those are just a few of the answers that were thrown out there as I threw questions at them, but their answers made for some great discussions.
After a while the students started to get more comfortable with me and asked questions like how much school fees are in the states, what a computer costs, and what the most common names are for boys and girls in the US. They also sang me some songs and one kid even got up and danced for us much to the delight of the class…..and my cringing expecting the teacher next door to come in with a stick ready to establish some order and then seeing me there “teaching.”
I wanted to cover as many subjects as possible, so after roughly discussing Geography and History while speaking in Kiswinglish, we switched over to math. I tried to get them to convert shillings into dollars….which was a terrible mathematical disaster……but still fun anyways. I ended up just doing the calculations for them and comparing some everyday items like soda bottles and pencils.
At school the bell rings every 40 minutes to indicate class switches. I must have heard the bell at least twice while I was with the kids, and every time I asked them, “Tumemaliza? Are we done?” And they would say, “Bado! Not yet!”
I definitely didn’t always have their attention but it was a rush trying to think of interesting things to talk about or compare that I could say in Kiswahili or that they would be able to understand in English. We finished off by talking about different types of communications and their tradeoffs (e.g. cost vs. time) which ultimately ended up in a very interesting discussion about how cell phone technologies and their use of satellites. Anyway, I was exhausted by the end of the day, but happy to have made some new friends.
P.S. I forgot to mention that we were interrupted at some point in the middle of our afternoon powwow to tally up the ages of all the students in our class. The range was from age 12 to 18 with most students lining up somewhere in the middle of that. It was interesting to watch the social dynamic as the scornful giggles increased with age, but I wasn’t at all surprised given that these kids either eat oversized portions of Wheaties for breakfast or are older than the average 7th grader.
Vacational to Vocational
After returning from Lushoto and resting for a few hours I headed back out into the world to visit a family friend who works at VETA College. VETA stands for Vocational Education and Training Authority. The school has just over 400 students, about a third of whom are boarding. They come for three years to study everything from welding, to plumbing, to tailoring, to secretarial work. I’ll fill more in about where this fits into the educational program here in Tanzania when I get around to doing a big posting on the education system, but for now I’ll just say that it’s an enormously big campus for only a few students at a very reasonable price (less than $200/yr for boarders and less than $60/year for non-boarders).
After touring the campus we returned to my friend’s home where she stays on campus with many of the faculty members for a cost of 10% of her total salary. Now that I know a thing or two about cooking and serving TZ style I was able to help her in the kitchen before sitting down for food. This was the first house I have been invited to that didn’t attempt to send me home rolling down the street like a bowling ball, but I was able to take the appropriate cues and show my due appreciation for the great food that she served.
As we were leaving her house at the end of the evening something landed on my head and fell down in front of me. I dreadingly looked down at the floor to see what it was and spied an oversized pile of bird poop and a small, slimy lizard at my feet. I unconsciously reached for my head at the same time and let out a heavy sigh of relief that I had come closer to having a Parent Trap moment than being blessed with good luck by my feathered friends!
After touring the campus we returned to my friend’s home where she stays on campus with many of the faculty members for a cost of 10% of her total salary. Now that I know a thing or two about cooking and serving TZ style I was able to help her in the kitchen before sitting down for food. This was the first house I have been invited to that didn’t attempt to send me home rolling down the street like a bowling ball, but I was able to take the appropriate cues and show my due appreciation for the great food that she served.
As we were leaving her house at the end of the evening something landed on my head and fell down in front of me. I dreadingly looked down at the floor to see what it was and spied an oversized pile of bird poop and a small, slimy lizard at my feet. I unconsciously reached for my head at the same time and let out a heavy sigh of relief that I had come closer to having a Parent Trap moment than being blessed with good luck by my feathered friends!
Monday, March 22, 2010
Dar Es Salaam Part III: The American Embassy
I woke up bright and early on Tuesday
and headed down to the free breakfast. I talked my way into a breakfast of toast, fresh mango juice, sausage, and a cup of tea. I also realized my phone was running out of money and asked the waiter where I could purchase more money for my phone. I’ll explain more about this later, but he asked exactly what company and how much I wanted and reappeared 2 minutes later with my phone voucher. I’m learning to feel less uncomfortable with this (although by no means comfortable) since the children at Chumbageni are expected to run errands for the teachers on a regular basis.
The Bank
After breakfast Halifa came to pick me up and we went to the bank to pay the fee for his visa application before heading to the embassy. I couldn’t figure out why he was picking me up at 7:30 am for a 10:00 appointment at the embassy until I saw the insane traffic jams of the morning rush-hour in Dar. Anyway, we made it to the bank and generously gave them the $131 fee (which by my exchange rate calculations was actually $141). As we left I was thinking about how clever the American Embassy is for separating the payment from the visa interview since our trip to the embassy afterwards felt like an entirely different errand.
In any case, as we left the bank we passed the Holiday Inn where I stayed my first night in Tanzania. It was a very strange feeling remembering how small and alone I felt on my first day. I was previously scared to walk out of the hotel doors for fear of being eaten alive by the city, but here I was walking down the streets, greeting people, grabbing a Taxi, and heading to the American embassy with Halifa and loving life.
Embassy Security
We arrived at the American Embassy early to go through security. It was pretty funny because even though I was technically on American soil, all of the guards were Tanzanian and very excited when I spoke to them almost entirely in Swahili (which of course means I didn’t say very much besides good morning :).
Anyway, their version of security was a metal detector, taking your bag in exchange for a number, and asking you to turn off your cell phones before going inside. The final step pertained to the water bottles we were carrying. The guard said to me in Swahili, “Kunywa!” which means “Drink!” in Kiswahili. I thought he was giving me very useful advice given the crazy weather here, but when I laughed, smiled, and kept walking he didn’t seem impressed. I asked him in English if he was really asking me to take a drink for him, and he told me that he was serious. Apparently it would be more entertaining to watch me suffer a violent death as a result of trying to sneak explosive liquid materials disguised as water into the embassy than it would be to tell me to just throw it away. I repeated this exercise as necessary at all of the security checkpoints.
The Interview
When we arrived at the visa application area Halifa was given a visa and asked to sit and wait. They let me come by but made sure to tell me I wasn’t allowed to talk or go up to the counter with him when it was time for his interview. There were panels blocking the people waiting from seeing those who were at the counter, but certainly no sound proofing devices. I got to hear a variety of different cases as we waited, and found it hard to hide my interest as I pretended to read some pamphlets on the table in front of me.
One person applying for a visa was trying to come study at an American university. He was quizzed on why he wanted to study English in America when he could learn the same things in Tanzania. Another woman was threatened to be permanently suspended from applying for an American visa because the random guy at the counter was suspicious that she had forged her marriage documents or that the person who issued them was a fake. Yet another woman asked for a translator and was asked why she needed one if she was planning on visiting the US. Another woman was quizzed on how many brothers she had and then reminded that she had told someone else in the building a different number when they asked her earlier and then quizzed on why she was lying. The list went on and on and person after person was told, “Thank you for applying for an American visa. We’re sorry that you have been denied” and given a form letter with further explanation. The only person I actually saw get accepted when I was there was an old retired man who spoke perfect English, had travelled to the States many times before, and wanted to go to his cousins graduation for a week. It took him less than two minutes to be approved.
As I sat there I myself was uncomfortable by the interrogation that everyone underwent. If I had to undergo such a thing in a non-native language I think I would certainly cave under the pressure. The crazy thing about it is that as intense as the interview itself is, the denial is pretty gentle. They make it sound really nice as if you’ve been accepted, but what has really happened is that you have given them $131 for the privilege of filling out some paperwork with your personal details on it and being handed a letter that is undated, unsigned, and otherwise left entirely blank in the space where they are supposed to provide specific details for your approval. Quite a different beast than my process for getting a visa to be here!
The Library
After the interview I wanted to see more of the embassy so we went to visit the library. It is open to the public and offers services such as educational advising, internet access, the ability to check out books, and a decent amount of books. I was very entertained by the Princeton Review books, Fiske Guide and many other pre-college favorites. There was also no shortage of pro-democracy propaganda to be had, but I think it’s a great service that is open to anyone who can get through the security checkpoints.
All in all I found the American Embassy to be a very interesting place. Beautiful buildings and landscaping, very friendly people with the exception of the interrogators (who I must admit were only doing their job) and great resources for citizens and foreigners alike.
and headed down to the free breakfast. I talked my way into a breakfast of toast, fresh mango juice, sausage, and a cup of tea. I also realized my phone was running out of money and asked the waiter where I could purchase more money for my phone. I’ll explain more about this later, but he asked exactly what company and how much I wanted and reappeared 2 minutes later with my phone voucher. I’m learning to feel less uncomfortable with this (although by no means comfortable) since the children at Chumbageni are expected to run errands for the teachers on a regular basis.
The Bank
After breakfast Halifa came to pick me up and we went to the bank to pay the fee for his visa application before heading to the embassy. I couldn’t figure out why he was picking me up at 7:30 am for a 10:00 appointment at the embassy until I saw the insane traffic jams of the morning rush-hour in Dar. Anyway, we made it to the bank and generously gave them the $131 fee (which by my exchange rate calculations was actually $141). As we left I was thinking about how clever the American Embassy is for separating the payment from the visa interview since our trip to the embassy afterwards felt like an entirely different errand.
In any case, as we left the bank we passed the Holiday Inn where I stayed my first night in Tanzania. It was a very strange feeling remembering how small and alone I felt on my first day. I was previously scared to walk out of the hotel doors for fear of being eaten alive by the city, but here I was walking down the streets, greeting people, grabbing a Taxi, and heading to the American embassy with Halifa and loving life.
Embassy Security
We arrived at the American Embassy early to go through security. It was pretty funny because even though I was technically on American soil, all of the guards were Tanzanian and very excited when I spoke to them almost entirely in Swahili (which of course means I didn’t say very much besides good morning :).
Anyway, their version of security was a metal detector, taking your bag in exchange for a number, and asking you to turn off your cell phones before going inside. The final step pertained to the water bottles we were carrying. The guard said to me in Swahili, “Kunywa!” which means “Drink!” in Kiswahili. I thought he was giving me very useful advice given the crazy weather here, but when I laughed, smiled, and kept walking he didn’t seem impressed. I asked him in English if he was really asking me to take a drink for him, and he told me that he was serious. Apparently it would be more entertaining to watch me suffer a violent death as a result of trying to sneak explosive liquid materials disguised as water into the embassy than it would be to tell me to just throw it away. I repeated this exercise as necessary at all of the security checkpoints.
The Interview
When we arrived at the visa application area Halifa was given a visa and asked to sit and wait. They let me come by but made sure to tell me I wasn’t allowed to talk or go up to the counter with him when it was time for his interview. There were panels blocking the people waiting from seeing those who were at the counter, but certainly no sound proofing devices. I got to hear a variety of different cases as we waited, and found it hard to hide my interest as I pretended to read some pamphlets on the table in front of me.
One person applying for a visa was trying to come study at an American university. He was quizzed on why he wanted to study English in America when he could learn the same things in Tanzania. Another woman was threatened to be permanently suspended from applying for an American visa because the random guy at the counter was suspicious that she had forged her marriage documents or that the person who issued them was a fake. Yet another woman asked for a translator and was asked why she needed one if she was planning on visiting the US. Another woman was quizzed on how many brothers she had and then reminded that she had told someone else in the building a different number when they asked her earlier and then quizzed on why she was lying. The list went on and on and person after person was told, “Thank you for applying for an American visa. We’re sorry that you have been denied” and given a form letter with further explanation. The only person I actually saw get accepted when I was there was an old retired man who spoke perfect English, had travelled to the States many times before, and wanted to go to his cousins graduation for a week. It took him less than two minutes to be approved.
As I sat there I myself was uncomfortable by the interrogation that everyone underwent. If I had to undergo such a thing in a non-native language I think I would certainly cave under the pressure. The crazy thing about it is that as intense as the interview itself is, the denial is pretty gentle. They make it sound really nice as if you’ve been accepted, but what has really happened is that you have given them $131 for the privilege of filling out some paperwork with your personal details on it and being handed a letter that is undated, unsigned, and otherwise left entirely blank in the space where they are supposed to provide specific details for your approval. Quite a different beast than my process for getting a visa to be here!
The Library
After the interview I wanted to see more of the embassy so we went to visit the library. It is open to the public and offers services such as educational advising, internet access, the ability to check out books, and a decent amount of books. I was very entertained by the Princeton Review books, Fiske Guide and many other pre-college favorites. There was also no shortage of pro-democracy propaganda to be had, but I think it’s a great service that is open to anyone who can get through the security checkpoints.
All in all I found the American Embassy to be a very interesting place. Beautiful buildings and landscaping, very friendly people with the exception of the interrogators (who I must admit were only doing their job) and great resources for citizens and foreigners alike.
Dar Es Salaam Part II: First Night
After arriving late in the afternoon to Dar es Salaam we were picked up by a friend of Halifa’s who took us to get some food. As we drove down the streets of Dar I saw a big WalMart-esque looking store, a movie cinema, and an advertisement for juicy McDonald’s style hamburgers. I don’t particularly care for any of those things, but I definitely got a twang of homesickness with these familiar sights. It was also shocking because I didn’t realize how much I’ve gotten used to my new lifestyle until I witnessed some of the more Western amenities in the big city.
After grabbing a bite to eat we headed to Halifa’s friend’s house. His oldest child, a girl in 1st grade, immediately made friends with me and started playing with styrofoamy letters and numbers switching between math problems and spelling. She, like my tutee, also goes to an English Medium school where she is taught entirely in English with the exception of her Kiswahili class.
This girl was very bright and I really enjoyed playing with her. She also had some awesome learning tricks, like for an addition problem like 4 + 6 she would say, “Six in my mind -- four on my fingers -- after six comes – seven, eight, nine, ten!” She took all of this very seriously and was quite funny to watch.
After about thirty minutes it was time for me to go check in at my hotel room and get ready for a big day at the American Embassy. I wanted to go through the website again and make sure everything was good to go given the high security measures and strict procedures that the website highlights. In any case, when we went to leave the little girl actually started crying and wouldn’t let me go.
I checked into the hotel and paid way too much money by Tanzanian standards (55,000) for a small room jammed with a king sized bed, mosquito net canopy and a television. I did such a good job checking in that when I came back to the front desk to ask about the free breakfast and checkout procedures for the next morning, the woman actually stopped me when I started speaking in English and told me that she would only answer my questions if I asked in Kiswahili. Good thing I forgot my English-Swahili dictionary in Tanga!
After grabbing a bite to eat we headed to Halifa’s friend’s house. His oldest child, a girl in 1st grade, immediately made friends with me and started playing with styrofoamy letters and numbers switching between math problems and spelling. She, like my tutee, also goes to an English Medium school where she is taught entirely in English with the exception of her Kiswahili class.
This girl was very bright and I really enjoyed playing with her. She also had some awesome learning tricks, like for an addition problem like 4 + 6 she would say, “Six in my mind -- four on my fingers -- after six comes – seven, eight, nine, ten!” She took all of this very seriously and was quite funny to watch.
After about thirty minutes it was time for me to go check in at my hotel room and get ready for a big day at the American Embassy. I wanted to go through the website again and make sure everything was good to go given the high security measures and strict procedures that the website highlights. In any case, when we went to leave the little girl actually started crying and wouldn’t let me go.
I checked into the hotel and paid way too much money by Tanzanian standards (55,000) for a small room jammed with a king sized bed, mosquito net canopy and a television. I did such a good job checking in that when I came back to the front desk to ask about the free breakfast and checkout procedures for the next morning, the woman actually stopped me when I started speaking in English and told me that she would only answer my questions if I asked in Kiswahili. Good thing I forgot my English-Swahili dictionary in Tanga!
Dar Es Salaam Part I: The Journey
I woke up at 2am on Monday morning determined to go to Dar es Salaam. I had only intended to see the city in transit to and from Tanzania, but I was looking for a new adventure and thought that I might be able to accompany Halifa (the head of Chumbageni Primary School) on his journey to get a visa from the American Embassy.
To make sure I wasn’t suffering from 2am crazy-brain-syndrome, I called my parents up on Skype to check in. Dar es Salaam is a lot more dangerous of a city than Tanga, but what the heck, this whole thing is an adventure, why stop now? My parents said it was okay, and Victoria and Godfrey (my host parents) gave me the go ahead when they woke up at 6am. After that, I just had to talk to Halifa and see if he wanted company on his journey as well as the benefit of having my internet-connected computer.
By 9:20 am that morning I arrived at the bus stand with my bags packed and ready to go. We were swarmed with people trying to help us, but managed to get through to the person selling tickets. We paid each paid 10,000 TZ shillings and were on the 9:30 shortly thereafter with only minutes to spare.
The first stop we come to, about 30 men rush out to the bus with a variety of things for sale: corn on the cob, cold water, cookies, ndazi , fresh oranges, hardboiled eggs, and much, much more. I got a lot of attention from these guys since they were all very good at what my dad is fond of calling, the “Where is Waldo” game. I had to cave in and try the locally grown cashew nuts and fresh sugar cane slices, although the price I paid was definitely more than the other passengers had to fork over.
The whole process of buying and selling is also very interesting. There is apparently less trust for the guys on the ground, so they are often asked to hand over the product and the change for the bill the person on the bus claims to have before they get paid. These transactions take place from about the time the bus starts pressing on the brake until the time that it takes off again at a speed that the men can keep up with by running after it. I don’t see why the people on the bus don’t just buy something at the last minute and let the bus drive them away before paying, but everyone made sure to pay the vendors even if it meant throwing TZ shillings out the window at 20km/hr.
Waste
People on the bus generate waste of all kinds. As far as trash is concerned, virtually all of it is thrown out the window. Fruit peels, bottles, plastic wrappers, you name it. It was sort of fun playing guessing games as to whether the oncoming bus would be able to hit the water bottle in the road and whether the corn cob would end up completely smooshed or break into pieces.
I myself had a hard time condoning this practice and tried to stuff all of my trash into as many non-existent spaces that my backpack could hold. I was very surprised by this practice of littering considering how incredibly clean Tanzanians usually are. The one exception to this littering practice, I should note, is the town of Moshi, which is considered the cleanest town in Tanzania. It is illegal to litter there, and the law enforcement officers are apparently pretty strict about handing out fines for doing so. This includes fining the bus companies if they see people throwing trash out of their vehicles.
As for human waste, there are pee stops that benefit only the males on the bus, and usually one real pit stop at a gas station or some other place for about ten minutes. This means that I spent much of the trip squirming in my seat and cursing the occasional speed bumps in the road. I learned my lesson on the way there and refrained from drinking before my journey home later in the week.
Police Officers
As I have not been shy to write about, driving in Tanzania is a crazy experience. That said, the government is apparently taking measures to help control the chaos. One example is not letting busses drive at night. I found out through experience that it is also illegal for passengers to be standing on these long bus trips. Our bus was pulled over and fined for our extra passengers in the aisle and they were forced to get off the bus.
I asked Halifa how it was fair for those who were standing to have to get off the bus in the middle of nowhere. Apparently it is well known by the people that they shouldn’t get on a full bus and will be made to get off of it if they are caught. One old woman on our bus was determined not to get off. She made Halifa move over and squish me up against the window as we sat three across. I think she thought my white skin would be invisible to the police officer or something….but alas he had no trouble picking out the one row with three people in a row and making her get off the bus. Good try though, bibi!
To make sure I wasn’t suffering from 2am crazy-brain-syndrome, I called my parents up on Skype to check in. Dar es Salaam is a lot more dangerous of a city than Tanga, but what the heck, this whole thing is an adventure, why stop now? My parents said it was okay, and Victoria and Godfrey (my host parents) gave me the go ahead when they woke up at 6am. After that, I just had to talk to Halifa and see if he wanted company on his journey as well as the benefit of having my internet-connected computer.
By 9:20 am that morning I arrived at the bus stand with my bags packed and ready to go. We were swarmed with people trying to help us, but managed to get through to the person selling tickets. We paid each paid 10,000 TZ shillings and were on the 9:30 shortly thereafter with only minutes to spare.
The first stop we come to, about 30 men rush out to the bus with a variety of things for sale: corn on the cob, cold water, cookies, ndazi , fresh oranges, hardboiled eggs, and much, much more. I got a lot of attention from these guys since they were all very good at what my dad is fond of calling, the “Where is Waldo” game. I had to cave in and try the locally grown cashew nuts and fresh sugar cane slices, although the price I paid was definitely more than the other passengers had to fork over.
The whole process of buying and selling is also very interesting. There is apparently less trust for the guys on the ground, so they are often asked to hand over the product and the change for the bill the person on the bus claims to have before they get paid. These transactions take place from about the time the bus starts pressing on the brake until the time that it takes off again at a speed that the men can keep up with by running after it. I don’t see why the people on the bus don’t just buy something at the last minute and let the bus drive them away before paying, but everyone made sure to pay the vendors even if it meant throwing TZ shillings out the window at 20km/hr.
Waste
People on the bus generate waste of all kinds. As far as trash is concerned, virtually all of it is thrown out the window. Fruit peels, bottles, plastic wrappers, you name it. It was sort of fun playing guessing games as to whether the oncoming bus would be able to hit the water bottle in the road and whether the corn cob would end up completely smooshed or break into pieces.
I myself had a hard time condoning this practice and tried to stuff all of my trash into as many non-existent spaces that my backpack could hold. I was very surprised by this practice of littering considering how incredibly clean Tanzanians usually are. The one exception to this littering practice, I should note, is the town of Moshi, which is considered the cleanest town in Tanzania. It is illegal to litter there, and the law enforcement officers are apparently pretty strict about handing out fines for doing so. This includes fining the bus companies if they see people throwing trash out of their vehicles.
As for human waste, there are pee stops that benefit only the males on the bus, and usually one real pit stop at a gas station or some other place for about ten minutes. This means that I spent much of the trip squirming in my seat and cursing the occasional speed bumps in the road. I learned my lesson on the way there and refrained from drinking before my journey home later in the week.
Police Officers
As I have not been shy to write about, driving in Tanzania is a crazy experience. That said, the government is apparently taking measures to help control the chaos. One example is not letting busses drive at night. I found out through experience that it is also illegal for passengers to be standing on these long bus trips. Our bus was pulled over and fined for our extra passengers in the aisle and they were forced to get off the bus.
I asked Halifa how it was fair for those who were standing to have to get off the bus in the middle of nowhere. Apparently it is well known by the people that they shouldn’t get on a full bus and will be made to get off of it if they are caught. One old woman on our bus was determined not to get off. She made Halifa move over and squish me up against the window as we sat three across. I think she thought my white skin would be invisible to the police officer or something….but alas he had no trouble picking out the one row with three people in a row and making her get off the bus. Good try though, bibi!
Busy and Behind
I am so far behind on blogging it’s not even funny. I can’t complain too much though because I’m so lucky to be experiencing so many new things. Anyway, I’ll start with my day today and slowly but surely fill in the pieces from the past week.
This week I am studying with the 4th graders. This is Victoria’s homeroom class, so I am really excited to work with her this week. After spending the first period on English superlatives, we switched over to Kiswahili. Victoria and I have decided to do a song project where the students here take 4 Kiswahili songs (national anthem, patriotic song, school song, and map song) and write down the lyrics. We will then arrange for them to Skype with a group of Key Schoolers who will hopefully prepare a few American songs to share and have a big song exchange.
[Side note: I am doing this without having arranged with any Key School teachers. I am magically hoping this will all come together, but if you are your students are interested in hearing some beautiful African songs during your first class and maybe singing a few for us here in TZ it would be much appreciated!]
Anyway, today I videotaped each of the four groups in Victoria’s class singing the songs so that I can also share them when I return. Victoria has also taken this one step further, since she is expecting me to sing these songs for the entirety of Key School when I return (yeah right), and assigned 5 students to help me learn the songs. She was far too excited about this for me to refuse. Jeezy peezy.
In any case, the recordings turned out great and the Swahili lyrics are in the mail to Key School today along with the letters for the 3rd graders and some other personal mail that I snuck in envelopes between their letters. I still need to translate the Swahili lyrics into English, but that’s a project for my tutoring sessions, and I have at least a month to complete the exercise before coming home.
After that I went to eat some more goat soup with Victoria and three other teachers before taking a daladala to the post office. At the post office I had to put on over twenty unsticky stamps. It took a second for my brain to remember that I was supposed to lick the stamps to make them attach, but I figured it out and sent them off without too much trouble. The Key School Caroll House should be seeing them within 2 weeks!
What now? I’m off to town with Victoria to buy mass amounts of sugar and cooking oil to make ugi for the orphans. Then I’m going to help cook dinner, study Kiswahili with my tutor for an hour, and hopefully write feverishly into the night about my many other adventures. My brain has an inability to compartmentalize at the moment, so expect this week’s postings to be a major brain dump. Apologies in advance.
This week I am studying with the 4th graders. This is Victoria’s homeroom class, so I am really excited to work with her this week. After spending the first period on English superlatives, we switched over to Kiswahili. Victoria and I have decided to do a song project where the students here take 4 Kiswahili songs (national anthem, patriotic song, school song, and map song) and write down the lyrics. We will then arrange for them to Skype with a group of Key Schoolers who will hopefully prepare a few American songs to share and have a big song exchange.
[Side note: I am doing this without having arranged with any Key School teachers. I am magically hoping this will all come together, but if you are your students are interested in hearing some beautiful African songs during your first class and maybe singing a few for us here in TZ it would be much appreciated!]
Anyway, today I videotaped each of the four groups in Victoria’s class singing the songs so that I can also share them when I return. Victoria has also taken this one step further, since she is expecting me to sing these songs for the entirety of Key School when I return (yeah right), and assigned 5 students to help me learn the songs. She was far too excited about this for me to refuse. Jeezy peezy.
In any case, the recordings turned out great and the Swahili lyrics are in the mail to Key School today along with the letters for the 3rd graders and some other personal mail that I snuck in envelopes between their letters. I still need to translate the Swahili lyrics into English, but that’s a project for my tutoring sessions, and I have at least a month to complete the exercise before coming home.
After that I went to eat some more goat soup with Victoria and three other teachers before taking a daladala to the post office. At the post office I had to put on over twenty unsticky stamps. It took a second for my brain to remember that I was supposed to lick the stamps to make them attach, but I figured it out and sent them off without too much trouble. The Key School Caroll House should be seeing them within 2 weeks!
What now? I’m off to town with Victoria to buy mass amounts of sugar and cooking oil to make ugi for the orphans. Then I’m going to help cook dinner, study Kiswahili with my tutor for an hour, and hopefully write feverishly into the night about my many other adventures. My brain has an inability to compartmentalize at the moment, so expect this week’s postings to be a major brain dump. Apologies in advance.
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