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.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
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!
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Successful Skyping
Today was a great day for the CHUMS partnership. We had a Skype conference between the Kindergarten classes at both Chumbageni and The Key School.
The Tanzanian students practiced their English by introducing themselves and saying “Good Morning!” while the American students asked some great questions about life here in Tanga. Both classes sang songs for each other and were delighted to talk with their new friends. Victoria was nice enough to record the entire conversation with the Flip Camera so I can share it with everyone who wasn’t able to join us!
The teachers at Chumbageni were thrilled and deemed the conference a huge success! They have asked me to set up more of these sessions between different grades in different subjects and are looking to try again next week. For those of you Key School teachers out there, the students here are very excited to be selected to speak with the Key School students and would love to prepare some questions for your students. Please contact me if your class would like to participate!
The Tanzanian students practiced their English by introducing themselves and saying “Good Morning!” while the American students asked some great questions about life here in Tanga. Both classes sang songs for each other and were delighted to talk with their new friends. Victoria was nice enough to record the entire conversation with the Flip Camera so I can share it with everyone who wasn’t able to join us!
The teachers at Chumbageni were thrilled and deemed the conference a huge success! They have asked me to set up more of these sessions between different grades in different subjects and are looking to try again next week. For those of you Key School teachers out there, the students here are very excited to be selected to speak with the Key School students and would love to prepare some questions for your students. Please contact me if your class would like to participate!
To: Chelsii
Today in class a student gave me a gift. It was a piece of paper folded into a letter that was addressed to me. I said thank you, put it in my pocket, and went back to teaching. However, sometime over the next hour, I managed to lose the note. I felt like I had just lost a love letter or something, and was terribly worried that if someone found it and opened it that it would be very embarrassing for the kid who wrote it. I kept looking under desks and backpacks for it as I went around correcting their exercises, but with no luck. I found it later in the grass just outside of the classroom and let out a big sigh of relief.
When I got home, I was very excited to open the letter and see what was inside. I unfolded it very carefully, making sure not to rip the paper…..and there inside was a completely blank piece of paper. What a letdown.
When I got home, I was very excited to open the letter and see what was inside. I unfolded it very carefully, making sure not to rip the paper…..and there inside was a completely blank piece of paper. What a letdown.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Powerless, Sleepless and Sweaty
The power in Tanga goes out once or twice a week for about fifteen minutes or so. When it happens, we all walk around the house turning off the major appliances so they don’t break when the power comes back on. A little later it comes back and everyone returns to business as usual.
Last night, however, was a different story. The power went out around 7:30pm and stayed out. Like most evenings, it was incredibly hot and sticky, with only an occasional breeze. I managed to sweat through all of my clothes and was more than slightly irritable in my discomfort.
While sweating, I was thinking about the 1st grade teacher I worked with this week. I remember she told me she was really tired because she hadn’t been sleeping well. When I asked her why, she told me that she doesn’t have air conditioning and doesn’t like to have a fan (I didn’t really understand why, but it sounded like it’s because they are noisy and keep her awake). She also had an itchy heat rash covering her whole body that she is constantly scratching. Anyway, thinking about the many families that live every day without air conditioning or fans in this weather was very humbling.
When the power finally came back on I went to take a shower, crawled into the other non-soaked half of the bed, flipped over my pillows and went to sleep……for about two hours, before the power went out again. I spent the next hour listening to a huge thunderstorm outside, hoping that the housekeeper was fast asleep because thunder scares her half to death.
Thankfully it wasn’t a weeknight and I was able to sleep in this morning. I hope I have enough energy for the game today!
Last night, however, was a different story. The power went out around 7:30pm and stayed out. Like most evenings, it was incredibly hot and sticky, with only an occasional breeze. I managed to sweat through all of my clothes and was more than slightly irritable in my discomfort.
While sweating, I was thinking about the 1st grade teacher I worked with this week. I remember she told me she was really tired because she hadn’t been sleeping well. When I asked her why, she told me that she doesn’t have air conditioning and doesn’t like to have a fan (I didn’t really understand why, but it sounded like it’s because they are noisy and keep her awake). She also had an itchy heat rash covering her whole body that she is constantly scratching. Anyway, thinking about the many families that live every day without air conditioning or fans in this weather was very humbling.
When the power finally came back on I went to take a shower, crawled into the other non-soaked half of the bed, flipped over my pillows and went to sleep……for about two hours, before the power went out again. I spent the next hour listening to a huge thunderstorm outside, hoping that the housekeeper was fast asleep because thunder scares her half to death.
Thankfully it wasn’t a weeknight and I was able to sleep in this morning. I hope I have enough energy for the game today!
Religious Parade
My Swahili tutor, the seventy-three year old retired teacher, goes to church almost every day and is very involved with their singing group. She’s been especially busy at the church this past week, since Friday was a major religious event for the churches in Tanga.
Apparently every year, the women from four local churches of different denominations come together to pray. This year, the service was held at the church that is nearest to my home. I was invited to go, but couldn’t attend do to a scheduling conflict. However, I got to see the parade of women as they walked past on their way to church. They were all wearing the same vitenge (piece of cloth wrapped around their waists as a skirt) and singing as they passed by. I was able to take a short video of the parade for your listening pleasure, which is posted below.
Apparently every year, the women from four local churches of different denominations come together to pray. This year, the service was held at the church that is nearest to my home. I was invited to go, but couldn’t attend do to a scheduling conflict. However, I got to see the parade of women as they walked past on their way to church. They were all wearing the same vitenge (piece of cloth wrapped around their waists as a skirt) and singing as they passed by. I was able to take a short video of the parade for your listening pleasure, which is posted below.
International Pharmacy Failure
I went to the pharmacy today to see if I could track down some Band-Aids or Moleskin for my blisters and Pepto-Bismol in case of any future stomach attacks.
No Pepto-Bismol. No Moleskin. It took me about five minutes to explain what I meant by Band-Aids, since they are apparently called “plasters” here. They only had regular sized ones for 50 shillings a piece, so I bought 8 even though they won’t do too much to cover up my blisters. Oh well!
No Pepto-Bismol. No Moleskin. It took me about five minutes to explain what I meant by Band-Aids, since they are apparently called “plasters” here. They only had regular sized ones for 50 shillings a piece, so I bought 8 even though they won’t do too much to cover up my blisters. Oh well!
Transportation
The various modes of transportation here in Tanga all have one thing in common: chaos. For starters, traffic flows the opposite way from the states. This by itself is no reason to criticize Tanzanian transportation, but it has certainly required me to look BOTH ways before crossing the street for fear of becoming a featured appetizer at the Road Kill Café. In any case, the real reason that transportation is so chaotic, is that there are never more than a total of two lanes, with no center line, no bike lanes, no sidewalks, and the right to pass anyone whenever you so choose with only millimeters between you.
Pedestrians
By far the most popular mode of transportation, the walkers in this town have a lot to look out for. I enjoy walking to school and around town because I get to interact with more of the people in this town, but at least once an outing my walking buddy has to yank me by the arm to keep me from being hit by the oncoming traffic. As far as other pedestrians, it is not uncommon for African women to walk around with babies tied to their back and/or large bundles on their heads. Men are more likely to be seen carrying CDs, pots and pans, or boxers to sell to any spur-of-the-moment purchasers.
Bikes
The bikers of this town fall into three, non-exclusive categories. The first group is just trying to get from point A to point B more quickly than could be done by foot. The second group carrying a heavy load on the front or back of their load for sale to any interested customers – maybe a huge basket of mangoes or oranges. This group is often seen walking their bike around trying to sell their product. The third group is carrying a passenger on the back of their bike. Most frequently this passenger is a woman sitting on a small platform behind the bicycle seat. She has both her feet off to one side, and is somehow able to keep her balance over speed bumps and dirt roads (sometimes even with a baby in her hands) without holding on to anything. The male passengers usually sit with one leg on each side, making it a much easier task. Overall, no one wears helmets, and riding right alongside fast moving cars and busses seems to be the norm.
Motorcycles
The word for motorcycle in Kiswahili is pikipiki. While there are far fewer pikipikis around town than bicycles, this is still a popular transportation option. These machines are sometimes better than cars for navigating the city, can go relatively fast on the open road, and are sometimes operated with helmets. Passengers are also common, and hop on the same way they would a bicycle (women with both legs off to one side, men straddling the bike). I initially thought that only men ride pikipikis until I saw a sixty-something year old woman with goggles riding past the school. Too bad I didn’t have my camera at the time.
Cars
Cars are not uncommon in town, but they certainly are not the most common vehicle on the road. Toyota seems to be the most popular car maker in Tanga and has a dealership in the middle of town. However, I think the cost of cars and fuel is prohibitive to widespread ownership. There are, however, taxis that run throughout the town that can be used for a reasonable price.
Daladalas
Daladalas are like big vans that seat about 15 people. They are used for public transportation and have routes that run throughout the city for only 300 TZ shillings per person (students ride for free). The number of seats in the vehicle, however, has nothing to do with the number of people in the car. Especially during peak hours, you will see these vehicles bursting at the seams with people. There is a daladala that picks up and drops off right outside my house that goes just about everywhere in town, so I used to take it with my host sister to get into town when there was no one at home to drive us. I would like to start using them on my own to get to the beach, the library, the supermarket etc. but I haven’t yet had the time to go on or get permission to go on a solo adventure.
Buses
Buses are the most common means of transportation over long distances. All major cities have huge bus stands where you can purchase a ticket and hop on a bus on the day of your journey. There are many buses leaving every day, but they are not legally allowed to be driving at night because they are so dangerous, so leaving in the early to mid-morning is usually a must. Buses also serve a second role as a mail-carrier. If you want to send a package, say from Tanga to Dar es Salaam, you just pay the driver to put it on the bus and off it goes!
Almost every type of vehicle from bicycle to huge truck can be rented here with or without a driver. However almost everything is at your own risk and major accidents are reported nearly every day in the news. Not even airlines are exempt from this, as a recent news article was talking about the high accident rate of planes here just last week.
Pedestrians
By far the most popular mode of transportation, the walkers in this town have a lot to look out for. I enjoy walking to school and around town because I get to interact with more of the people in this town, but at least once an outing my walking buddy has to yank me by the arm to keep me from being hit by the oncoming traffic. As far as other pedestrians, it is not uncommon for African women to walk around with babies tied to their back and/or large bundles on their heads. Men are more likely to be seen carrying CDs, pots and pans, or boxers to sell to any spur-of-the-moment purchasers.
Bikes
The bikers of this town fall into three, non-exclusive categories. The first group is just trying to get from point A to point B more quickly than could be done by foot. The second group carrying a heavy load on the front or back of their load for sale to any interested customers – maybe a huge basket of mangoes or oranges. This group is often seen walking their bike around trying to sell their product. The third group is carrying a passenger on the back of their bike. Most frequently this passenger is a woman sitting on a small platform behind the bicycle seat. She has both her feet off to one side, and is somehow able to keep her balance over speed bumps and dirt roads (sometimes even with a baby in her hands) without holding on to anything. The male passengers usually sit with one leg on each side, making it a much easier task. Overall, no one wears helmets, and riding right alongside fast moving cars and busses seems to be the norm.
Motorcycles
The word for motorcycle in Kiswahili is pikipiki. While there are far fewer pikipikis around town than bicycles, this is still a popular transportation option. These machines are sometimes better than cars for navigating the city, can go relatively fast on the open road, and are sometimes operated with helmets. Passengers are also common, and hop on the same way they would a bicycle (women with both legs off to one side, men straddling the bike). I initially thought that only men ride pikipikis until I saw a sixty-something year old woman with goggles riding past the school. Too bad I didn’t have my camera at the time.
Cars
Cars are not uncommon in town, but they certainly are not the most common vehicle on the road. Toyota seems to be the most popular car maker in Tanga and has a dealership in the middle of town. However, I think the cost of cars and fuel is prohibitive to widespread ownership. There are, however, taxis that run throughout the town that can be used for a reasonable price.
Daladalas
Daladalas are like big vans that seat about 15 people. They are used for public transportation and have routes that run throughout the city for only 300 TZ shillings per person (students ride for free). The number of seats in the vehicle, however, has nothing to do with the number of people in the car. Especially during peak hours, you will see these vehicles bursting at the seams with people. There is a daladala that picks up and drops off right outside my house that goes just about everywhere in town, so I used to take it with my host sister to get into town when there was no one at home to drive us. I would like to start using them on my own to get to the beach, the library, the supermarket etc. but I haven’t yet had the time to go on or get permission to go on a solo adventure.
Buses
Buses are the most common means of transportation over long distances. All major cities have huge bus stands where you can purchase a ticket and hop on a bus on the day of your journey. There are many buses leaving every day, but they are not legally allowed to be driving at night because they are so dangerous, so leaving in the early to mid-morning is usually a must. Buses also serve a second role as a mail-carrier. If you want to send a package, say from Tanga to Dar es Salaam, you just pay the driver to put it on the bus and off it goes!
Almost every type of vehicle from bicycle to huge truck can be rented here with or without a driver. However almost everything is at your own risk and major accidents are reported nearly every day in the news. Not even airlines are exempt from this, as a recent news article was talking about the high accident rate of planes here just last week.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Cool Kindle for a Cool Kid
This week I started tutoring for a 3rd grader who attends a local private school here. His mom works at Chumbageni, and asked if I could help him learn English.
For a 3rd grader, I was pretty impressed by Emanuel’s abilities. I found out later that the school he attends is taught entirely in English (unlike most of the other private schools here) which explains why his English is so advanced. However, he is still incredibly smart, composed and conversant in English. After two days of working out of his school’s exercise books, it became clear that the material that he is using is too easy for him.
Emanuel told me that he really likes to read story books, so in an attempt to help him with the language I downloaded an illustrated version of "My Father’s Dragon" onto my Kindle. We took turns reading the first two chapters during the tutoring session, and had a few discussions about what we were reading, and some new vocabulary that we came across together.
After the session, I heard him tell his mom he really liked the book. I had a feeling that he might not be able to wait the entire weekend to keep reading, so I had already come up with a plan for him to keep reading. Emanuel’s home is right on the way to my soccer practice every day. I have it perfectly timed that I jump from one activity to the next, but am always a little concerned that my stuff might be stolen from the sideline when I am practicing. I definitely didn’t want to risk having my Kindle stolen, so I asked Emanuel if he wanted to read the book while I was at practice, and then I’d come to collect it on my way back home for my own tutoring session.
After picking up the Kindle from his apartment, Emanuel decided to walk me home. He was so excited to tell me about everything that he had read in the book, and was on quite a roll in both English and Kiswahili (he doesn’t quite know that I don’t speak Swahili). He didn’t have time to finish his explanation by the time we got home, but he seemed like he had really enjoyed reading the book and managed to get a lot out of it.
When I was crawling into bed later that night to read my own book, I turned on the kindle to find a screen with a picture of the dragon and only two words…..THE END……No wonder he didn’t have enough time to finish telling me about the story.
For a 3rd grader, I was pretty impressed by Emanuel’s abilities. I found out later that the school he attends is taught entirely in English (unlike most of the other private schools here) which explains why his English is so advanced. However, he is still incredibly smart, composed and conversant in English. After two days of working out of his school’s exercise books, it became clear that the material that he is using is too easy for him.
Emanuel told me that he really likes to read story books, so in an attempt to help him with the language I downloaded an illustrated version of "My Father’s Dragon" onto my Kindle. We took turns reading the first two chapters during the tutoring session, and had a few discussions about what we were reading, and some new vocabulary that we came across together.
After the session, I heard him tell his mom he really liked the book. I had a feeling that he might not be able to wait the entire weekend to keep reading, so I had already come up with a plan for him to keep reading. Emanuel’s home is right on the way to my soccer practice every day. I have it perfectly timed that I jump from one activity to the next, but am always a little concerned that my stuff might be stolen from the sideline when I am practicing. I definitely didn’t want to risk having my Kindle stolen, so I asked Emanuel if he wanted to read the book while I was at practice, and then I’d come to collect it on my way back home for my own tutoring session.
After picking up the Kindle from his apartment, Emanuel decided to walk me home. He was so excited to tell me about everything that he had read in the book, and was on quite a roll in both English and Kiswahili (he doesn’t quite know that I don’t speak Swahili). He didn’t have time to finish his explanation by the time we got home, but he seemed like he had really enjoyed reading the book and managed to get a lot out of it.
When I was crawling into bed later that night to read my own book, I turned on the kindle to find a screen with a picture of the dragon and only two words…..THE END……No wonder he didn’t have enough time to finish telling me about the story.
Shopping for Soccer Stuff
I have a soccer game tomorrow and am very much looking forward to playing with the Veteran Team. The only problem is that I have no equipment, since I stupidly decided at the last minute to leave it all at home.
Not to worry, though! I told my host-brother my predicament and he took me into town to get what I needed. First we went to a small store with everything from toenail clippers to cookware to get shin guards and soccer socks. The shin guards all have the logos of teams from the European leagues. Unfortunately Chelsea was not an option, so I settled for Manchester United shin guards. I also don’t know what color our uniforms are so I had trouble picking out socks. I was going to go with white until I remembered that my host mom has a fit every time I come home filthy, so I decided to go with a dark blue instead.
Next stop: a second-hand store to find a pair of cleats. Unfortunately I was gifted with the smallest adult feet that anyone seems to have ever seen before….so I had to settle for a size 7.5 pair of cleats instead of my usual 5.5 or 6. I doubt that the extra wiggle room will do anything to help my current blister situation, but a tissue stuffing party might just do the trick.
Grand total? 38,000 Tanzanian Shillings.
Not to worry, though! I told my host-brother my predicament and he took me into town to get what I needed. First we went to a small store with everything from toenail clippers to cookware to get shin guards and soccer socks. The shin guards all have the logos of teams from the European leagues. Unfortunately Chelsea was not an option, so I settled for Manchester United shin guards. I also don’t know what color our uniforms are so I had trouble picking out socks. I was going to go with white until I remembered that my host mom has a fit every time I come home filthy, so I decided to go with a dark blue instead.
Next stop: a second-hand store to find a pair of cleats. Unfortunately I was gifted with the smallest adult feet that anyone seems to have ever seen before….so I had to settle for a size 7.5 pair of cleats instead of my usual 5.5 or 6. I doubt that the extra wiggle room will do anything to help my current blister situation, but a tissue stuffing party might just do the trick.
Grand total? 38,000 Tanzanian Shillings.
Times Tables
While drinking mid-morning tea with a few of the teachers on Friday, one of them asked me to show a few students how to do long division. I asked her how to say “times” and “divided by” in Kiswahili, and then I got to work.
It quickly became clear to me that the five kids who were looking on did not know their multiplication tables, making it very hard to do long division. I decided to go back to the basics with them, and drew up a 10 x 10 grid and started randomly filling in the times tables with them. What’s 7x7? 8x3? 6x4? The two students standing next to me were struggling to answer the questions, while one of the students in the back was shouting out the answers without any problem.
I soon learned that he was reading the multiplication chart that every student has on the back of his or her exercise books. From their perspective, why should they memorize their multiplication tables when they always have such easy access to the answers?
I decided to ditch the long division and get back to learning the times tables through rote memorization. I started with the 9s, using a hand trick that a good friend of mine taught me, and then went on to tackle the 7s times tables through rote memorization. We didn’t get too far before school was over, but I hope to follow up with them on Monday.
It quickly became clear to me that the five kids who were looking on did not know their multiplication tables, making it very hard to do long division. I decided to go back to the basics with them, and drew up a 10 x 10 grid and started randomly filling in the times tables with them. What’s 7x7? 8x3? 6x4? The two students standing next to me were struggling to answer the questions, while one of the students in the back was shouting out the answers without any problem.
I soon learned that he was reading the multiplication chart that every student has on the back of his or her exercise books. From their perspective, why should they memorize their multiplication tables when they always have such easy access to the answers?
I decided to ditch the long division and get back to learning the times tables through rote memorization. I started with the 9s, using a hand trick that a good friend of mine taught me, and then went on to tackle the 7s times tables through rote memorization. We didn’t get too far before school was over, but I hope to follow up with them on Monday.
Mr. Mighty Kileo
This week I got to meet the man initially responsible for setting up the CHUMS Partnership, Mr. Mighty Kileo. While he only had time for a short visit to Chumbageni this week, it was interesting to hear about his vision for intercontinental partnerships. He told me that he originally intended to expand to other countries as well, but switched to a different school before this was possible.
Mr. Kileo also invited me to visit his new school this past Friday. However, due to a scheduling conflict, he was not available when I arrived. I will likely go back to the school next week when he has more time, but it was very interesting to see another primary school in Tanga. A lot is the same: the uniforms, the teachers sitting at tables outside grading exercise books, the teachers-in-training wearing maroon trousers, the classrooms, and the general environment. Interestingly, however, this school is placed right next to one of the biggest high-security prisons in Tanzania, which is not something I’d ever imagine seeing back home. More to follow next week when I actually get an official tour of the school…
Mr. Kileo also invited me to visit his new school this past Friday. However, due to a scheduling conflict, he was not available when I arrived. I will likely go back to the school next week when he has more time, but it was very interesting to see another primary school in Tanga. A lot is the same: the uniforms, the teachers sitting at tables outside grading exercise books, the teachers-in-training wearing maroon trousers, the classrooms, and the general environment. Interestingly, however, this school is placed right next to one of the biggest high-security prisons in Tanzania, which is not something I’d ever imagine seeing back home. More to follow next week when I actually get an official tour of the school…
Thursday, March 4, 2010
No Book, No Co, No Problem!
Last night I sat down with Victoria to prepare a math lesson for the third grade class. The math teacher was going to be absent the next day and asked me and one of the teachers-in-training who works at the school to step in for her. I felt comfortable with the lesson - subtraction with numbers in the thousands – so I agreed.
When I arrived at school today, the teacher-in-training was nowhere to be found, nor was the workbook with the exercises in it. I sent a student to go track down my co and/or the book, but she was unsuccessful.
Here goes nothing! I couldn’t waste more time trying to find the book, leaving all 50+ kids to wait idly for me to return, so I decided to get to work. Thankfully the third graders were well behaved and listened attentively as I wrote math problems on the board. I had a few students come up to the board to read and solve the problems, and then gave them a few to solve independently. When they finished, I had them hand in their exercises for me to grade after class, and switched over to a game of hangman as we waited for the stragglers to finish up. A pretty good finish for a very shaky start!
When I arrived at school today, the teacher-in-training was nowhere to be found, nor was the workbook with the exercises in it. I sent a student to go track down my co and/or the book, but she was unsuccessful.
Here goes nothing! I couldn’t waste more time trying to find the book, leaving all 50+ kids to wait idly for me to return, so I decided to get to work. Thankfully the third graders were well behaved and listened attentively as I wrote math problems on the board. I had a few students come up to the board to read and solve the problems, and then gave them a few to solve independently. When they finished, I had them hand in their exercises for me to grade after class, and switched over to a game of hangman as we waited for the stragglers to finish up. A pretty good finish for a very shaky start!
Babu Ali
One of my little friends at Chumbageni is named Babu, which means “grandfather” in Kiswahili. I didn’t recognize him when he showed up at soccer practice yesterday because he was wearing traditional Muslim attire instead of his school uniform. He also had a workbook with him written entirely in Arabic. He read a few pages to me, and I was very impressed! If only he could read as well in Swahili!
Many kids had these books with them at the game, so I assume that they are all attending the equivalent of Hebrew School or Sunday School, but I’ll have to ask more about this. I apparently forgot that the students all have lives outside of school, making it so refreshing to get a small snapshot of what they do after the bell rings.
Many kids had these books with them at the game, so I assume that they are all attending the equivalent of Hebrew School or Sunday School, but I’ll have to ask more about this. I apparently forgot that the students all have lives outside of school, making it so refreshing to get a small snapshot of what they do after the bell rings.
Proper Matches
While my foot blister kept me from playing soccer yesterday, it couldn’t keep me from showing up to watch. I started chatting with some of the players on the sideline and I figured out that these guys don’t just play pickup games every day for fun – they are practicing for their weekly Sunday games. No wonder there are such intense warm-ups and cool-downs! I guess I need to track down some shin guards and cleats for this weekend…
A Handful
Last night after tutoring I sat down to eat dinner by myself. Everyone else was either out of the house or had already eaten, so I sat down and helped myself. Usually there is a fork and knife sitting at my plate, but today there were none. I thought about getting up to go find one, but decided against it. I wanted to try eating like everyone else: with my hands.
I am very glad I decided to do this without company, because it took some practice to get all of the rice into my mouth in one go. One handed eating is also the norm, although two is acceptable, so I gave that a try too. A good bit of my food ended up in the sink as I was washing up, but it was definitely a fun test run.
I am very glad I decided to do this without company, because it took some practice to get all of the rice into my mouth in one go. One handed eating is also the norm, although two is acceptable, so I gave that a try too. A good bit of my food ended up in the sink as I was washing up, but it was definitely a fun test run.
Monkey Business
At Pangani this past weekend I saw a cat-like animal sprint behind a building. I went to check it out, a little suspicious of the length of its tail, and figured out it was a monkey! I had my camera in my hand, but unfortunately he scampered off when I reached for it. I figured if there’s one monkey, there are probably two…so I started scanning the trees. Giving up my search, I turned around to walk away and there, three feet above my head, was a monkey! He had probably making bunny ears behind my head while I was looking for more monkeys, but when I raised my camera to snap his picture he was gone!
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
No, You!
Occasionally when a kid is taking themselves too seriously, I feel the need to stick my tongue out at them or make a funny face. Today, a kid stuck their hand out towards me and made a strange grabbing motion by clenching her fist. I thought she was just starting the game up herself, so we exchanged this gesture back and forth a few times. It wasn’t until later that I remembered reading in one of my books on Tanzanian culture that their gesture for “come here” is an upside-down version of the one I am used to. Apparently I had been engaging in a competition of: You come here! No, You come here! No, You come here!.......I hope she didn’t need me too badly!
Good Morning Boy
While playing on the roof on Sunday, my 3 year old neighbor across the street couldn’t help but scream and wave, “Good Morning!” at me, once every thirty to forty seconds. After we finished playing, I walked over to his house and gave him a small ball to play with. After about five minutes of playing catch, we had a crowd of at least ten other children to join us, and my little friend couldn’t have been more excited when I told him that the ball was his to keep.
Art
Sanaa. Art. Not my best subject. At least my Kindergarten-level drawing abilities were not met with hysterical laughter from the students when the Kindergarten teacher asked me to draw a flower on the board for art class. Her reaction, of course, was a different matter.
Twiga, Twiga, Simba
The Kindergarten teacher loves to put me on the spot by asking me to teach the kids new songs or games with little to no warning. While I have exhausted all of my Kindergarten level songs, I still had Duck, Duck, Goose! up my sleeve when she asked me to teach the kids something new.
Since the Swahili language does not have words to differentiate airplanes from birds, I figured that the subcategories of birds that are necessary in understanding this game may not make for the easiest explanation.
I decided, instead, to make a more Swahili and geographically appropriate game by renaming it “Twiga, Twiga, Simba!” or “Giraffe, Giraffe, Lion!” We moved all of the desks to the sides of the room and made a huge circle of 58 students. The stew pot was also a bit hard to explain, so we just tossed them all into the middle if they got tagged on their ½ mile run back to their safe seat.
Since the Swahili language does not have words to differentiate airplanes from birds, I figured that the subcategories of birds that are necessary in understanding this game may not make for the easiest explanation.
I decided, instead, to make a more Swahili and geographically appropriate game by renaming it “Twiga, Twiga, Simba!” or “Giraffe, Giraffe, Lion!” We moved all of the desks to the sides of the room and made a huge circle of 58 students. The stew pot was also a bit hard to explain, so we just tossed them all into the middle if they got tagged on their ½ mile run back to their safe seat.
Perfect Pineapples
When we still had a car to drive to school with, we used to stop at a pineapple stand on the side of the road on our way home after school. Victoria is very good about introducing me to everyone, so when she was excitedly pointing, “Look at the twins!” I would never have guessed she was talking about the conjoined pineapples that are featured in the slideshow above.
On the same pineappley note, the first day I arrived I saw Victoria peeling a pineapple like an apple. This inevitably left many little brown eyes behind, which she spent a good twenty minutes carving out with the tip of her knife. Hesitant to correct the African community on their pineapple pealing methods but confident in my dad’s tried and true pineapple cutting methods, I offered to show her a way to cut the pineapple without leaving behind the eyes. I cut off the ends, sliced it into quarters, and then sliced the meat away from the skin before cutting each pineapple log into perfect fan-like pieces. Problem solved. Victoria was so impressed that she has been informing all of her friends about the way Americans like to cut their pineapples.
On the same pineappley note, the first day I arrived I saw Victoria peeling a pineapple like an apple. This inevitably left many little brown eyes behind, which she spent a good twenty minutes carving out with the tip of her knife. Hesitant to correct the African community on their pineapple pealing methods but confident in my dad’s tried and true pineapple cutting methods, I offered to show her a way to cut the pineapple without leaving behind the eyes. I cut off the ends, sliced it into quarters, and then sliced the meat away from the skin before cutting each pineapple log into perfect fan-like pieces. Problem solved. Victoria was so impressed that she has been informing all of her friends about the way Americans like to cut their pineapples.
Basketball Hoops - Discontinued
The day after the basketball hoops were put up, I went to go see how they had set in the concrete. Strangely, there were no hoops. As it turns out, someone stole them that very night.
The teacher at the school who warned me that this would happen gave me a very big I told you so smile before informing me that the night guard had caught the man in the act, and took the rings back to the office. We are now going to work on a plan to install temporary hoops that can be taken down each night and locked up in the office.
The teacher at the school who warned me that this would happen gave me a very big I told you so smile before informing me that the night guard had caught the man in the act, and took the rings back to the office. We are now going to work on a plan to install temporary hoops that can be taken down each night and locked up in the office.
La Vida Loca
My older host brother, James, pointed out a popular club in town today as we drove by. Not only was he unaware that its name was Spanish in origin, but he also found it hilarious when I told him that it means “The Crazy Life.”
The Birds
The housekeeper's two year old daughter and I were sitting on the couch the other day, when all of a sudden a very loud bird started squawking at us through the roof. We looked up, saw nothing, and went back to business. A few minutes later, it did it again – it sounded like the birds at my house in Annapolis that get stuck in the vents. The little girl started squawking right back at the bird, which seemed to be squawking at a more frequent pace now. I joined in the fun, and we had a great time laughing while imitating our new bird friend.
That night I heard the bird again and my host brother said, “I’ll get it.” I didn’t know what he meant until he told me someone was at the gate. I guess that’s just our new alarm system chirping!
That night I heard the bird again and my host brother said, “I’ll get it.” I didn’t know what he meant until he told me someone was at the gate. I guess that’s just our new alarm system chirping!
Drawing the Line
Every day the students arrive with their exercise books and a pencil. However, there is no red line down the side to indent the paper in most of the books, so every day the students line up to have the teacher draw a straight line down the sides of their paper before they start writing.
The teacher asked me to do this for the kids, which was fine except for the fact that I wasn’t sure exactly how far from the spine it was supposed to go, and how perfectly straight it needed to be (every second counts when you are trying to put lines in the exercise books of over 60 kids). Furthermore, multiple students came up to me with an exercise book that already had a pink line down the edge. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with the books….so I just copied over that same line with my pen and they all seemed ecstatic at the improvement. Whatever floats your boat I guess.
The teacher asked me to do this for the kids, which was fine except for the fact that I wasn’t sure exactly how far from the spine it was supposed to go, and how perfectly straight it needed to be (every second counts when you are trying to put lines in the exercise books of over 60 kids). Furthermore, multiple students came up to me with an exercise book that already had a pink line down the edge. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with the books….so I just copied over that same line with my pen and they all seemed ecstatic at the improvement. Whatever floats your boat I guess.
Moving Up
After one fantastic month with the Kindergarten class at Chumbageni, I have decided that I want to experience other classrooms, students, teachers, etc. I have asked to spend a week with each of the grades (this week 1st grade, next week 2nd etc.) which should take me to about the end of my stay here.
I have so far had a great time working with the 1st grade students, and recognize some friendly faces from tutoring in the afternoon. There is lots of singing, and counting soda bottle caps, and practicing handwriting…..and I even understand most of the teacher’s instructions when she is talking to the kids!
I have so far had a great time working with the 1st grade students, and recognize some friendly faces from tutoring in the afternoon. There is lots of singing, and counting soda bottle caps, and practicing handwriting…..and I even understand most of the teacher’s instructions when she is talking to the kids!
Blistering Feet in Blistering Heat
On Sunday I agreed to play soccer on the roof of our house. Everyone was playing barefoot….and in an effort to avoid stepping on anyone’s toes I decided to do the same.
Of course, within 5 minutes of play had four lovely blisters: two on my big toes, and two on the balls of my feet. I wasn’t upset about it though, because I haven’t had too many chances to play soccer since I’ve been here, and I had a great time.
The following day at school, I found out that Deborah had arranged for me to play soccer at the school at 5:00 that day. Apparently every day around five o’clock, the local men (around age 20 - 50) come to play at the school. There are two teams, the “veterans” (i.e. the old guys) and the youth team.
When I showed up to play, I was put with the veteran team, which unfortunately meant I had to play AGAINST the young, fast, talented soccer players on the other team. I played right fullback and did my very best not to make a fool out of myself. Although every time I got the ball in the tall grass with players rushing towards me, the best I was able to do was kick the ball up the field to a player who I could only hope was on my team, which worked out about 60% of the time.
More interesting than the game itself, however, were the spectators. People of all ages came out to watch the game – or more specifically, to watch me. Those who didn’t know me were calling out “mzungu” and my students were screaming “Chelsea!” or “Madam!” My favorite, of course, were the group of students yelling, “Good Morning!” at me at 5:30 in the evening.
Unfortunately my blisters from playing barefooted soccer over the weekend opened up, causing my host family to be very concerned and threatening that I couldn’t go to school the next day for fear of getting it infected. I gave in on not playing soccer today, but I certainly don’t want to sit at home all day just because I have a blister on my foot! Although I do need to catch up on my blog…..
Of course, within 5 minutes of play had four lovely blisters: two on my big toes, and two on the balls of my feet. I wasn’t upset about it though, because I haven’t had too many chances to play soccer since I’ve been here, and I had a great time.
The following day at school, I found out that Deborah had arranged for me to play soccer at the school at 5:00 that day. Apparently every day around five o’clock, the local men (around age 20 - 50) come to play at the school. There are two teams, the “veterans” (i.e. the old guys) and the youth team.
When I showed up to play, I was put with the veteran team, which unfortunately meant I had to play AGAINST the young, fast, talented soccer players on the other team. I played right fullback and did my very best not to make a fool out of myself. Although every time I got the ball in the tall grass with players rushing towards me, the best I was able to do was kick the ball up the field to a player who I could only hope was on my team, which worked out about 60% of the time.
More interesting than the game itself, however, were the spectators. People of all ages came out to watch the game – or more specifically, to watch me. Those who didn’t know me were calling out “mzungu” and my students were screaming “Chelsea!” or “Madam!” My favorite, of course, were the group of students yelling, “Good Morning!” at me at 5:30 in the evening.
Unfortunately my blisters from playing barefooted soccer over the weekend opened up, causing my host family to be very concerned and threatening that I couldn’t go to school the next day for fear of getting it infected. I gave in on not playing soccer today, but I certainly don’t want to sit at home all day just because I have a blister on my foot! Although I do need to catch up on my blog…..
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Pre-Church Troubles
After a full day of fun in the sun, I went to sleep early last night and, for once, didn’t set an alarm. At 9:30am I woke up, turned off the AC, and switched to the fan. Within five minutes, the power went out and a series of bangs started going off that almost shook the house. A little frightened, I went outside to determine the source of the noise…..discovering, with relief, that it was just thunder (but impressive thunder at that).
My host brother James reassured me, and then told me he had a surprise to show me. I closed my eyes as he led me outside….only to open them and see Victoria’s car smashed into the guard rail in front of where she parks her car….totally mangled.
Apparently on her way to Church this morning, her three point turn out of the driveway went wildly wrong. I briefly entertained the idea that Toyota’s recent news popularity might have had something to do with it…..but it seems that her description is more reflective of panicking than anything else. Anyway, she felt horrible about it and was quite shaken up….the fact that the driveway is about three feet above the garden below makes it quite a relief that the guardrail kept her from going over the edge.
My host father was apparently took it all quite well. He has full insurance on the car, so he just took a deep breath and went to church….deciding not to make a big deal out of the situation. When he got back, he poked his head in the room to say good morning, and told me he was going to disappear for a few hours.
Apparently, the insurance company requires a police report to file a claim. The police department, however, is quite corrupt. If my host mom and her son are there, it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. But if Godfrey were to stick around….their palms would most likely require some grease.
Of course, two hours later my host brother ran into the house looking for his mom’s wallet. I wonder what that was about….
My host brother James reassured me, and then told me he had a surprise to show me. I closed my eyes as he led me outside….only to open them and see Victoria’s car smashed into the guard rail in front of where she parks her car….totally mangled.
Apparently on her way to Church this morning, her three point turn out of the driveway went wildly wrong. I briefly entertained the idea that Toyota’s recent news popularity might have had something to do with it…..but it seems that her description is more reflective of panicking than anything else. Anyway, she felt horrible about it and was quite shaken up….the fact that the driveway is about three feet above the garden below makes it quite a relief that the guardrail kept her from going over the edge.
My host father was apparently took it all quite well. He has full insurance on the car, so he just took a deep breath and went to church….deciding not to make a big deal out of the situation. When he got back, he poked his head in the room to say good morning, and told me he was going to disappear for a few hours.
Apparently, the insurance company requires a police report to file a claim. The police department, however, is quite corrupt. If my host mom and her son are there, it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. But if Godfrey were to stick around….their palms would most likely require some grease.
Of course, two hours later my host brother ran into the house looking for his mom’s wallet. I wonder what that was about….
Post Office
My experience at the Post Office was actually quite interesting. They don’t sell any packages to put your things in, and instead send you to the stationary next door to purchase your packaging materials. The balance is also analog, making weight just a visual approximation. To send a package to the US of a weight between 0.5 and 1.0 kg, it costs 27,300 / + (TZ shillings). My package was clearly over the 1kg, but the woman just smiled and said, “it is 1kg,” so we went with that. The package is supposed to take 7 to 10 days to get there, but has already surpassed that timeframe. I was also due to receive a package from the US four days ago, but it too has yet to arrive. I knew that the 1 week arrival dates were just too good to be true, but I’d be curious to follow a package en route to its destination and take note of its journey.
Tutor
Teacher Eva is a seventy-three year old woman who is about five feet tall with piercing blue eyes and skin as dark as night. She taught in primary schools for years, but is now retired and works as a tutor for all ages helping students learn how to read and write.
Per my request for a tutor, Mwalimu Eva comes over for an hour Monday through Friday at 6:30 to help me learn Kiswahili. She was very surprised that I could read and write in Swahili (even though the alphabet is practically the same, and everything in Kiswahili is phonetic) but is thrilled to have such a capable and motivated student. We are still working to find the appropriate materials for her to teach me with, but I am very much enjoying getting to know my new teacher, and making her laugh.
Unfortunately, our daily 6:30 sessions tend to conflict with other events, and I have already had to cancel on her once. The next day, she asked Victoria if she had done something wrong or if I didn’t like her or something……but thankfully Victoria assured her that dinner at Halifa’s was very important and couldn’t be moved since he is leaving this weekend.
Per my request for a tutor, Mwalimu Eva comes over for an hour Monday through Friday at 6:30 to help me learn Kiswahili. She was very surprised that I could read and write in Swahili (even though the alphabet is practically the same, and everything in Kiswahili is phonetic) but is thrilled to have such a capable and motivated student. We are still working to find the appropriate materials for her to teach me with, but I am very much enjoying getting to know my new teacher, and making her laugh.
Unfortunately, our daily 6:30 sessions tend to conflict with other events, and I have already had to cancel on her once. The next day, she asked Victoria if she had done something wrong or if I didn’t like her or something……but thankfully Victoria assured her that dinner at Halifa’s was very important and couldn’t be moved since he is leaving this weekend.
Pangani
Yesterday, baba, kaka, na mimi (my host dad, my brother, and I) went to Pangani to swim in the Indian Ocean and relax by the beach. Historically, Pangani is an important city in Tanzania, but we were mainly going to stay at a resort for the day.
Overall, I had a great time in the beach, but going to this very nice getaway with American-style food, people to wait on you, a swimming pool, and a full bar felt very strange to me.
Also, to get to Pangani you have to drive 55 km over bumpy, dirt roads. It takes a little over an hour, but could take less than half of that if the road were paved. Also, if the road were paved, people could use the road to get to Dar es Salam in about two-thirds of the time it currently takes to get there.
Overall, I had a great time in the beach, but going to this very nice getaway with American-style food, people to wait on you, a swimming pool, and a full bar felt very strange to me.
Also, to get to Pangani you have to drive 55 km over bumpy, dirt roads. It takes a little over an hour, but could take less than half of that if the road were paved. Also, if the road were paved, people could use the road to get to Dar es Salam in about two-thirds of the time it currently takes to get there.
In America...
Surprisingly, I have not gotten a ton of questions about the US or my life at home. However, when I do, I have been finding it very difficult to provide answers that are not regionally specific. I am constantly qualifying my statements and pointing out that things are different across all of the regions of the country – especially weather, which is what I get asked about the most often. At first I thought this made sense to think of a country as one big unit with similar characteristics across it….because that is how I initially thought of Tanzania. However, even here, there are many places that have drastically different climates and weather patterns, among other things.
Basketball Game
Deborah is a teacher at Chumbageni who plays on the women’s basketball team in Tanga and came to the US last fall to learn how to set up basketball programs in Tanzania as part of a State Department program here. Fortunately, I was able to meet her and a few of her fellow Tanzanians with the Waymouth’s when she was here, and was able to meet a few of them again this past Friday.
After school at 4pm I went to the local stadium to watch a basketball game. However, both of the teams were late, and the game had been rescheduled to later. Fortunately, there was a soccer game that was just starting in the complex, so I was able to watch half of a game that I actually understand before coming over to watch the local players running drills on the basketball court.
Interestingly, all of the basketballs that I saw on the court (I counted six) were from Deborah’s trip to the United Sates. Apparently basketballs are too expensive here, and are not in great supply. Another man who is involved with creating a basketball program in the local community was talking to me about the youth team he is currently working with. He had to buy all of the kids the proper shoes, but takes them home after every practice so they don’t inevitably walk away.
Overall, the complex was very neat and covered in blue paint with Vodacom logos everywhere. There’s a soccer field, a basketball court, and an area for netball (I sport that I do not yet know very much about). The place seemed to be alive with people on a Friday afternoon, and I was told will be running programs throughout most of the weekend.
After school at 4pm I went to the local stadium to watch a basketball game. However, both of the teams were late, and the game had been rescheduled to later. Fortunately, there was a soccer game that was just starting in the complex, so I was able to watch half of a game that I actually understand before coming over to watch the local players running drills on the basketball court.
Interestingly, all of the basketballs that I saw on the court (I counted six) were from Deborah’s trip to the United Sates. Apparently basketballs are too expensive here, and are not in great supply. Another man who is involved with creating a basketball program in the local community was talking to me about the youth team he is currently working with. He had to buy all of the kids the proper shoes, but takes them home after every practice so they don’t inevitably walk away.
Overall, the complex was very neat and covered in blue paint with Vodacom logos everywhere. There’s a soccer field, a basketball court, and an area for netball (I sport that I do not yet know very much about). The place seemed to be alive with people on a Friday afternoon, and I was told will be running programs throughout most of the weekend.
Basketball Hoop
Halifa is leaving to continue his studies today, and was in a big rush on Thursday of last week to help me get the basketball hoops up. He took me to a welder at the end of the day on Thursday, and made our best guess at the dimensions. We made it exactly half an inch bigger than the largest basketball at the school.
When Skyping with my friend from school later that night, I was informed that the hoop should actually be significantly bigger than the ball itself. In fact, it’s supposed to be 18” in diameter. I was pretty bummed about this….but I cheered up when she pointed out that they’ll just get really accurate!
To compensate for my mistake, I think that we are going to set up the small hoops for grades 1 – 4 in the Kindergarten classroom that is under construction and play with the smaller basketball. I’ll go back to the welding shop with Deborah, who leads the sports programs here, and get the appropriate sized hoop for the older kids and try and set up a “proper pitch” for them.
When Skyping with my friend from school later that night, I was informed that the hoop should actually be significantly bigger than the ball itself. In fact, it’s supposed to be 18” in diameter. I was pretty bummed about this….but I cheered up when she pointed out that they’ll just get really accurate!
To compensate for my mistake, I think that we are going to set up the small hoops for grades 1 – 4 in the Kindergarten classroom that is under construction and play with the smaller basketball. I’ll go back to the welding shop with Deborah, who leads the sports programs here, and get the appropriate sized hoop for the older kids and try and set up a “proper pitch” for them.
Dinner at Halifa's
Before Halifa leaves for Lushoto to continue his studies, he invited me over to his house for dinner. My brother Gilbert “escorted” me to the dinner…which I was very grateful for since he speaks very good English and helps me when I am having trouble understanding (and gives me a hard time when I have forgotten words he has already taught me :).
Halifa has two kids and a wife. He lives in a very nice house with three other families, and is renting out certain rooms in the house. We had a very nice dinner, complete with french fries (called chips), rice, a meat dish, and a glass bottle of Fanta Orange.
Afterwards we watched a comedy show completely in Kiswahili…..that involved a host and a Scooby Doo hand puppet….and a few other things I didn’t really understand. Halifa also invited over his friend from another local school, and he asked a lot about comparisons in the weather, and how many hours there are in a day (this is where I found out about telling time based on one’s shadow).
All in all, it was a great evening…and an interesting contrast in terms of the different living situations of all of the teachers at Chumbageni.
Halifa has two kids and a wife. He lives in a very nice house with three other families, and is renting out certain rooms in the house. We had a very nice dinner, complete with french fries (called chips), rice, a meat dish, and a glass bottle of Fanta Orange.
Afterwards we watched a comedy show completely in Kiswahili…..that involved a host and a Scooby Doo hand puppet….and a few other things I didn’t really understand. Halifa also invited over his friend from another local school, and he asked a lot about comparisons in the weather, and how many hours there are in a day (this is where I found out about telling time based on one’s shadow).
All in all, it was a great evening…and an interesting contrast in terms of the different living situations of all of the teachers at Chumbageni.
Dinner on Friday
The next night, after dinner at Halifa’s I went to have dinner at the home of the 3rd grade math teacher. This woman lives on the highest level in the furthest back corner of an apartment complex. There are clothes hanging from clotheslines between the two parallel sets of apartments and open doors with American rap music blaring. From the balcony in front of her apartment we can see the school, most of the city, and the beautiful full moon that marks the start of an important Islamic Holiday here.
This teacher lives with her youngest son, and two other teenage girls who I believe are relatives who recently became orphans. I guess I haven’t mentioned this….so I’ll explain how a meal typically works. If there is a sink, you wash your hands there. If not, someone pours soapy water over your hands wall you wash them over a bowl (usually both hands). All of the food is served in hotpots of various sizes, and it all goes onto your plate, and is then eaten with either your hands or a fork. If you are using your hand, I have been told you can use either hand or both if you wish. However, most people use only one hand, and at the end of the meal hold the carafe themselves with one hand while only washing the hand that was used for eating.
Also, the girls and women almost exclusively do the cooking, cleaning and serving. As a guest and as a woman, I often struggle to decide what I should be doing….but have almost never been allowed to help when I offer an extra hand.
This teacher lives with her youngest son, and two other teenage girls who I believe are relatives who recently became orphans. I guess I haven’t mentioned this….so I’ll explain how a meal typically works. If there is a sink, you wash your hands there. If not, someone pours soapy water over your hands wall you wash them over a bowl (usually both hands). All of the food is served in hotpots of various sizes, and it all goes onto your plate, and is then eaten with either your hands or a fork. If you are using your hand, I have been told you can use either hand or both if you wish. However, most people use only one hand, and at the end of the meal hold the carafe themselves with one hand while only washing the hand that was used for eating.
Also, the girls and women almost exclusively do the cooking, cleaning and serving. As a guest and as a woman, I often struggle to decide what I should be doing….but have almost never been allowed to help when I offer an extra hand.
Chelsea's Garden
Victoria is interested in the “environment” at Chumbageni, and is also interested in trying to increase the green spaces at the school. She has said she wants to try and set up the irrigation materials sent by the 6th grade science teacher at Key School (Mr. Waymouth) and is frequently helping the children water the plants at school.
Last week, Victoria asked if I would like to get a plant for Chumageni for everyone to remember me by. While I was a little thrown by the concept of buying a tree for myself for everyone there to remember me by, I was touched by the thought and said it would be a great idea.
We went to the flower shop a few days later to buy the flowers, and bought 3 pink plants and 5 smaller green plants. The price was hiked up very high because I was there, but I was able to bargain with a guy a bit and he threw in an extra plant at the end.
The next day, I came to school and Victoria had already gotten to work with her 4th grade class planting the plants. They had saved one for me near the entrance of the school, and a few students and I got to work.
As a side note: There is a difference between a key garden (which exists) and The Key Garden (which doesn’t yet exist…or does now that we planted those few plants at the school). A key garden has to do with composting and is just a bunch of white rocks around it. It isn’t very pretty, or garden like…..and therefore should not be equated with the Somer’s Park Garden.
Last week, Victoria asked if I would like to get a plant for Chumageni for everyone to remember me by. While I was a little thrown by the concept of buying a tree for myself for everyone there to remember me by, I was touched by the thought and said it would be a great idea.
We went to the flower shop a few days later to buy the flowers, and bought 3 pink plants and 5 smaller green plants. The price was hiked up very high because I was there, but I was able to bargain with a guy a bit and he threw in an extra plant at the end.
The next day, I came to school and Victoria had already gotten to work with her 4th grade class planting the plants. They had saved one for me near the entrance of the school, and a few students and I got to work.
As a side note: There is a difference between a key garden (which exists) and The Key Garden (which doesn’t yet exist…or does now that we planted those few plants at the school). A key garden has to do with composting and is just a bunch of white rocks around it. It isn’t very pretty, or garden like…..and therefore should not be equated with the Somer’s Park Garden.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Here Lizard, Lizard, Lizard....
After school on Wednesday I was taking an oversized knife that I use for peeling my mid-morning mango out of my backpack. I almost dropped my knife and chopped off one of my toes when a lizardy-creature jumped out of my backpack with it!
(There must be something very lizard-friendly in my backpack....because I caught a different one trying to get into my backpack at school the following day....and almost knocked out a small child when it startled me.)
(There must be something very lizard-friendly in my backpack....because I caught a different one trying to get into my backpack at school the following day....and almost knocked out a small child when it startled me.)
Shadows
Yesterday at dinner someone asked me why I thought almost no one wears watches in Tanzania. I thought it was because everyone here seems to own at least one phone, usually two, and sometimes three.
However, it turns out that everyone here knows how to tell time based on their shadow. The daylight hours here fluctuate by no more than five minutes in a year, and are almost always 12 hours long.
I am on a mission to learn how to use this nifty, new, natural, clock and will report back once I have become an expert shadow-reader.
However, it turns out that everyone here knows how to tell time based on their shadow. The daylight hours here fluctuate by no more than five minutes in a year, and are almost always 12 hours long.
I am on a mission to learn how to use this nifty, new, natural, clock and will report back once I have become an expert shadow-reader.
Sunscreen
Coppertone Sport is my brand of sport, and I have been religiously applying sunscreen thanks to their new, Continuous, clear, no-rub, ultra sweatproof, breatheable, 50 SPF bottles. However, supplies are running low, and an instinct to conserve these precious bottles combined with an inability to refuse kids who want to play soccer under the full blast of the mid-day sun, has led to my first significant sunburn. It has also reminded me, that I am going to need to obtain more bottles.
The thought occurred to me, the other day….that I am just about the only white person (that I have seen) here in Tanga. The chances of me finding a bottle of sunscreen, I wagered are probably slim to none.
So….If I were a bottle of sunscreen in Tanzania, where would I be? Where all the silly, white, mzungu, tourists are that are willing to spend a fortune to buy a small bottle of sunscreen, of course!
Lucky for me, my host father was in Dar es Salam this week….so I gave him a call…..and he was easily able to locate and purchase a new bottle of 50+ SPF sunscreen for me.
I must say….the phone conversation trying to explain what sunscreen is….and how it’s rated etc. was rather hilarious……..until he read me the price of the small bottles……a whopping $24.
The thought occurred to me, the other day….that I am just about the only white person (that I have seen) here in Tanga. The chances of me finding a bottle of sunscreen, I wagered are probably slim to none.
So….If I were a bottle of sunscreen in Tanzania, where would I be? Where all the silly, white, mzungu, tourists are that are willing to spend a fortune to buy a small bottle of sunscreen, of course!
Lucky for me, my host father was in Dar es Salam this week….so I gave him a call…..and he was easily able to locate and purchase a new bottle of 50+ SPF sunscreen for me.
I must say….the phone conversation trying to explain what sunscreen is….and how it’s rated etc. was rather hilarious……..until he read me the price of the small bottles……a whopping $24.
Breaking Into My New Home
This week my host mom, Victoria, is the teacher on-duty. She must go to school very early in the morning and gets back a little later every day this week. I have decided to walk myself to and from school each day, and definitely look forward to my 10 minute daily adventure.
Today, when I got home at 2 o’clock, I banged on the gates to our house so that the helper or my host brother would come unlock the door and let me in. No answer. I called, and called….but still no answer. Finally, with sweat dripping down my whole body and exhaustion from the anticipation of my afternoon nap setting in….I decided I had I was just going to have to let myself in. So, naturally, I hopped the fence (very grateful that Victoria’s fence doesn’t have shards of glass or barbed wire to keep intruders from doing such a thing). I was a little indignant from having stood outside for 15 minutes trying to get someone to come open the gate, that I marched straight to my room, and took a shower without informing the helper or my host brother that I was home.
While getting dressed, I heard someone else knocking at the door. And knocking, and knocking….I knew no one could hear them besides myself….and the knocks were getting more and more impatient. I threw on some clothes and ran to the gate to open in….but as I was opening the gate to let them in, I realized I had no clue who was on the other side of the gate and didn’t have the language skills to ask them to state their business. Instead….I just stammmered….in Kiswahili……”Welcome….you are here……who?....” as two forty-ish year old men with bicycles and a couple bags entered our home.
Realizing that I might have just let in a bunch of robbers or something….I quickly skipped off to find the helper so she could tell me if they were friends or foes. Of course, I had to first explain why I was home and how I got in….and then ask if she knew them. But being that she only speaks kiswahili….it was mostly just an exchange of hand signals, body language and tone of voice. But in any case, she seemed to be expecting them.
An hour or so later when my host brother and I were heading to the beach for an afternoon swim, I asked about the men from earlier, and why they were here. He said, “Oh, they are here to install the electric bell so we can hear when people are waiting at the gate to come inside….”
Today, when I got home at 2 o’clock, I banged on the gates to our house so that the helper or my host brother would come unlock the door and let me in. No answer. I called, and called….but still no answer. Finally, with sweat dripping down my whole body and exhaustion from the anticipation of my afternoon nap setting in….I decided I had I was just going to have to let myself in. So, naturally, I hopped the fence (very grateful that Victoria’s fence doesn’t have shards of glass or barbed wire to keep intruders from doing such a thing). I was a little indignant from having stood outside for 15 minutes trying to get someone to come open the gate, that I marched straight to my room, and took a shower without informing the helper or my host brother that I was home.
While getting dressed, I heard someone else knocking at the door. And knocking, and knocking….I knew no one could hear them besides myself….and the knocks were getting more and more impatient. I threw on some clothes and ran to the gate to open in….but as I was opening the gate to let them in, I realized I had no clue who was on the other side of the gate and didn’t have the language skills to ask them to state their business. Instead….I just stammmered….in Kiswahili……”Welcome….you are here……who?....” as two forty-ish year old men with bicycles and a couple bags entered our home.
Realizing that I might have just let in a bunch of robbers or something….I quickly skipped off to find the helper so she could tell me if they were friends or foes. Of course, I had to first explain why I was home and how I got in….and then ask if she knew them. But being that she only speaks kiswahili….it was mostly just an exchange of hand signals, body language and tone of voice. But in any case, she seemed to be expecting them.
An hour or so later when my host brother and I were heading to the beach for an afternoon swim, I asked about the men from earlier, and why they were here. He said, “Oh, they are here to install the electric bell so we can hear when people are waiting at the gate to come inside….”
Friday, February 26, 2010
My New Friend
The first grade teacher has been absent for a long time now due to a family illness. I am often asked to go correct math problems in that class, and see many of those students that are struggling later in the afternoon when they come for extra help.
One of the kids in this class made herself known to me very early on with her friendly and engaging nature. Unfortunately for her, this meant that I took note when some days her math problems were 100% correct, and some days they were 100% wrong.
On one of the days where the problems were 100% wrong, I sent her to one of the teachers, because I felt that I didn’t have the language ability to help her. Her teacher took one look at the problems in her work book and started yelling at her. She also got a nice love pat, which made her cry and made me cringe with guilt for having sent her to the teacher. If this girl was going to get help, I decided I would have to do it myself.
Knowing that this student was most likely cheating, and also most likely did not know how to do simple math I decided I’d work through a few problems with her one-on-one. I quickly learned that my friend did not know how to read or write numbers. So if I had her count two plus two by holding up my fingers for her to count….she could count out the numbers, but would get stuck when she had to write down the answer. She would then look desperately at her peers for someone to trace the number for her in the air, and she would write it down.
To test how much this student actually knew, I had her write out the numbers 1 through 10. I expected this to be a difficult task for someone who can’t write the number four on command, but she did it in less than 30 seconds, without any problems. However, when I asked her where the number 9 was….she pointed to the number 5!
Back to the basics….I ripped up some pieces of paper and made her a set of number flashcards….. This student knows one, two, and three without any problems (reading, writing, holding up the appropriate number of fingers, etc.)……but the rest of them she does not know how to read or write.
I really wasn’t sure what to do next, but I decided to try and help her by having her count out the number of fingers that a particular number is associated with. For example, I showed her the number four, then held up four of my fingers, and said, “How many fingers is this?” She didn’t know how many fingers it was by sight, but she counted out all of my fingers and was able to tell me that I was holding up four fingers – no great shakes…..but okay, it’s a start.
When I showed her the flashcard for five, and said how many fingers….she put up five of her own fingers before I had a chance to hold up mine for her to count……she counted all five of her fingers and successfully told me that the flashcard said five. I thought it was odd that a girl that couldn’t read or write numbers somehow knew to hold up five fingers when she saw the number in written form, so I decided to test her with the number seven. Again….she put up seven of her own fingers, and got to work counting….producing the correct answer.
While I’m no expert, this seemed like some sort of learning disability to me, so I took her to see Halifa (who is also studying learning disabilities and special ed). I had him watch us play a flashcard game, where I would show her 5, 7, 4, 6 etc….and each time she held up the correct number of fingers and got to work counting. Halifa agreed that there is some sort of issue…..especially that when he asked her to just tell him what a particular number was without using her fingers, she gave him a very sad look and just started randomly guessing at numbers.
Since Halifa agreed that there was a problem and allowed me to work with her some more, I have spent an hour every day playing flashcard games with my friend, trying to get her to use her counting tools to read numbers rather than blindly guessing. So far, here’s what she’s been able to do….
1: 100%
2: 100%
3: 100 %
4: Counts by hand, can guess at it about 75% of the time without counting….usually mistakes with five or seven.
5: Counts by hand, usually mistakes with seven, but no longer mistakes with six
6: No longer counts by hand, but sometimes mixes up her syllables and calls it “tisa” instead of “sita,” which unfortunately for her is the number 9 in Swahili.
7: Always counts out by hand, otherwise wildly guesses
8: Sometimes holds up nine fingers instead of eight…..but is getting better
9: Sometimes holds up eight fingers instead of nine….but is getting better
10: Used to hold up all her fingers and count every time……now she just thinks, holds up her hands, says “All ten!”
What is even more strange….is that this student can now identify almost every card correct (with counting, of course) when I give her one card at a time. However, if I put all of the cards out and say “Where is the number 4?” She starts handing me seven, nine, eight, or any other number (except 1, 2, or 3…..which she has no problem identifying).
I think this student has had this problem for a long time….because she is well practiced in the art of cheating. She is constantly looking to read my body language when producing an answer, or for the help of a fellow student who is standing nearby. Because of this, I have started separating her from the rest of the group, and refusing to acknowledge her answer as either correct or incorrect, until she taps me on the shoulder and tells me with authority what the number is……it’s like a “Final Answer?” sort of check, and has proven to be quite successful. When I ask her to find me a certain number in a group of cards, she frequently reaches for the wrong card, but then counts it out to herself and corrects her mistake by picking a different card and verifying the number. While it’s definitely not ideal, I’m happy that she is at least using the tools she has to start identifying numbers…..maybe over time….she’ll be able to progress to reading them all by sight.
Since I’ve been working with this student, I have also been identifying other students who are struggling in math and I am beginning to write down their names. When there are 50 – 80 kids in a class, it is no wonder the teacher doesn’t have time to work with these kids individually. I asked Halifa if he wanted me to pull a few kids out of class next week to see if I could help them get back on track….and he’s agreed to let me try and help a few more individuals next week. I guess we’ll see how it goes!
One of the kids in this class made herself known to me very early on with her friendly and engaging nature. Unfortunately for her, this meant that I took note when some days her math problems were 100% correct, and some days they were 100% wrong.
On one of the days where the problems were 100% wrong, I sent her to one of the teachers, because I felt that I didn’t have the language ability to help her. Her teacher took one look at the problems in her work book and started yelling at her. She also got a nice love pat, which made her cry and made me cringe with guilt for having sent her to the teacher. If this girl was going to get help, I decided I would have to do it myself.
Knowing that this student was most likely cheating, and also most likely did not know how to do simple math I decided I’d work through a few problems with her one-on-one. I quickly learned that my friend did not know how to read or write numbers. So if I had her count two plus two by holding up my fingers for her to count….she could count out the numbers, but would get stuck when she had to write down the answer. She would then look desperately at her peers for someone to trace the number for her in the air, and she would write it down.
To test how much this student actually knew, I had her write out the numbers 1 through 10. I expected this to be a difficult task for someone who can’t write the number four on command, but she did it in less than 30 seconds, without any problems. However, when I asked her where the number 9 was….she pointed to the number 5!
Back to the basics….I ripped up some pieces of paper and made her a set of number flashcards….. This student knows one, two, and three without any problems (reading, writing, holding up the appropriate number of fingers, etc.)……but the rest of them she does not know how to read or write.
I really wasn’t sure what to do next, but I decided to try and help her by having her count out the number of fingers that a particular number is associated with. For example, I showed her the number four, then held up four of my fingers, and said, “How many fingers is this?” She didn’t know how many fingers it was by sight, but she counted out all of my fingers and was able to tell me that I was holding up four fingers – no great shakes…..but okay, it’s a start.
When I showed her the flashcard for five, and said how many fingers….she put up five of her own fingers before I had a chance to hold up mine for her to count……she counted all five of her fingers and successfully told me that the flashcard said five. I thought it was odd that a girl that couldn’t read or write numbers somehow knew to hold up five fingers when she saw the number in written form, so I decided to test her with the number seven. Again….she put up seven of her own fingers, and got to work counting….producing the correct answer.
While I’m no expert, this seemed like some sort of learning disability to me, so I took her to see Halifa (who is also studying learning disabilities and special ed). I had him watch us play a flashcard game, where I would show her 5, 7, 4, 6 etc….and each time she held up the correct number of fingers and got to work counting. Halifa agreed that there is some sort of issue…..especially that when he asked her to just tell him what a particular number was without using her fingers, she gave him a very sad look and just started randomly guessing at numbers.
Since Halifa agreed that there was a problem and allowed me to work with her some more, I have spent an hour every day playing flashcard games with my friend, trying to get her to use her counting tools to read numbers rather than blindly guessing. So far, here’s what she’s been able to do….
1: 100%
2: 100%
3: 100 %
4: Counts by hand, can guess at it about 75% of the time without counting….usually mistakes with five or seven.
5: Counts by hand, usually mistakes with seven, but no longer mistakes with six
6: No longer counts by hand, but sometimes mixes up her syllables and calls it “tisa” instead of “sita,” which unfortunately for her is the number 9 in Swahili.
7: Always counts out by hand, otherwise wildly guesses
8: Sometimes holds up nine fingers instead of eight…..but is getting better
9: Sometimes holds up eight fingers instead of nine….but is getting better
10: Used to hold up all her fingers and count every time……now she just thinks, holds up her hands, says “All ten!”
What is even more strange….is that this student can now identify almost every card correct (with counting, of course) when I give her one card at a time. However, if I put all of the cards out and say “Where is the number 4?” She starts handing me seven, nine, eight, or any other number (except 1, 2, or 3…..which she has no problem identifying).
I think this student has had this problem for a long time….because she is well practiced in the art of cheating. She is constantly looking to read my body language when producing an answer, or for the help of a fellow student who is standing nearby. Because of this, I have started separating her from the rest of the group, and refusing to acknowledge her answer as either correct or incorrect, until she taps me on the shoulder and tells me with authority what the number is……it’s like a “Final Answer?” sort of check, and has proven to be quite successful. When I ask her to find me a certain number in a group of cards, she frequently reaches for the wrong card, but then counts it out to herself and corrects her mistake by picking a different card and verifying the number. While it’s definitely not ideal, I’m happy that she is at least using the tools she has to start identifying numbers…..maybe over time….she’ll be able to progress to reading them all by sight.
Since I’ve been working with this student, I have also been identifying other students who are struggling in math and I am beginning to write down their names. When there are 50 – 80 kids in a class, it is no wonder the teacher doesn’t have time to work with these kids individually. I asked Halifa if he wanted me to pull a few kids out of class next week to see if I could help them get back on track….and he’s agreed to let me try and help a few more individuals next week. I guess we’ll see how it goes!
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Sports Update
The big soccer field at Chumbageni Primary School is usually empty during the school day (with the exception of the occasional grazing goat).
However, after last Friday when I took the Kindergarten class out to run some soccer drills, every other class has caught on and is constantly asking me to bring them soccer balls and set up inter-grade matches. The playground has come alive at recess, and students who usually go home during the break are now staying at school.
So far, the kids have complained that there are too many people on the field, and that six soccer balls aren’t enough (we have recently been converting basketballs to compensate). To address their concerns, the teachers are considering adjusting the school schedule to allow grades 4 through 7 to come play soccer for 40 minutes once a week on top of their daily recess time.
I am also working to get a basketball program up and running….or at least to obtain the resources necessary to start a program. Today I went with the school head, Halifa, to a local welder and asked them to make us two basketball hoops. For the equivalent of about $8, they have agreed to make us two rings, which we will pick up tomorrow and hang in the new Kindergarten classroom that is under construction. I’m not quite sure how it will all turn out….but we’re on a mission to get a mini-court up and running soon!
However, after last Friday when I took the Kindergarten class out to run some soccer drills, every other class has caught on and is constantly asking me to bring them soccer balls and set up inter-grade matches. The playground has come alive at recess, and students who usually go home during the break are now staying at school.
So far, the kids have complained that there are too many people on the field, and that six soccer balls aren’t enough (we have recently been converting basketballs to compensate). To address their concerns, the teachers are considering adjusting the school schedule to allow grades 4 through 7 to come play soccer for 40 minutes once a week on top of their daily recess time.
I am also working to get a basketball program up and running….or at least to obtain the resources necessary to start a program. Today I went with the school head, Halifa, to a local welder and asked them to make us two basketball hoops. For the equivalent of about $8, they have agreed to make us two rings, which we will pick up tomorrow and hang in the new Kindergarten classroom that is under construction. I’m not quite sure how it will all turn out….but we’re on a mission to get a mini-court up and running soon!
Monday, February 22, 2010
Porridge for the Orphans
The Somers Park School is currently paying to serve ugi (porridge) to the orphans every morning. Here is my current understanding of how the program works:
One of the mom’s in the local community is hired to make huge batches of porridge every morning. It seems like it includes water, flour, corn meal, salt, pepper, and sugar (maybe milk?)….but I’m not exactly sure. The orphans are served first, around 9 or 10am. After that, the remaining ugi is sold to any child who wants to purchase a cup for 50 TZ shillings (about four cents). This money helps perpetuate the program and fills the bellies of many of the children at school here for a seemingly reasonable price.
In order to serve the ugi, there are over 100 colorful, plastic cups that are stored in a big plastic trash bin. A group of students comes through and then when they are finished, they wash their cup in a soapy bath and then rinse it in clean water for the next round of students to use. Almost every student gets 2 cups: one filled to the brim with ugi, the other is empty and seems to be the actual drinking cup that the kids use to pour small amounts of ugi into it to drink. The ugi is very hot, and I think the kids do this so that it cools off faster or something. I could be completely wrong about this, so I need to do some more research.
The most important question, of course, is how does it taste? I was at first hesitant to try the ugi for health reasons. However, it seems that the ugi is at least brought to a boil….and my host mom says it’s okay for me to eat…..so I figured, what the heck….I’ll try it.
The verdict: It actually tastes okay…there are some clumps in it which give it a distinctive texture….and the taste is a little like cornbread….a little sweet, a little salty….and of course a hint of corn flavor. It is very filling and I am considering making this a mid-morning snack almost every day!
A drawback: This morning the mom who comes to make the ugi didn’t show up. That meant no ugi. I don’t know if or when the orphans get other food in the day, but the process is definitely dependent on this woman showing up in the morning…
One of the mom’s in the local community is hired to make huge batches of porridge every morning. It seems like it includes water, flour, corn meal, salt, pepper, and sugar (maybe milk?)….but I’m not exactly sure. The orphans are served first, around 9 or 10am. After that, the remaining ugi is sold to any child who wants to purchase a cup for 50 TZ shillings (about four cents). This money helps perpetuate the program and fills the bellies of many of the children at school here for a seemingly reasonable price.
In order to serve the ugi, there are over 100 colorful, plastic cups that are stored in a big plastic trash bin. A group of students comes through and then when they are finished, they wash their cup in a soapy bath and then rinse it in clean water for the next round of students to use. Almost every student gets 2 cups: one filled to the brim with ugi, the other is empty and seems to be the actual drinking cup that the kids use to pour small amounts of ugi into it to drink. The ugi is very hot, and I think the kids do this so that it cools off faster or something. I could be completely wrong about this, so I need to do some more research.
The most important question, of course, is how does it taste? I was at first hesitant to try the ugi for health reasons. However, it seems that the ugi is at least brought to a boil….and my host mom says it’s okay for me to eat…..so I figured, what the heck….I’ll try it.
The verdict: It actually tastes okay…there are some clumps in it which give it a distinctive texture….and the taste is a little like cornbread….a little sweet, a little salty….and of course a hint of corn flavor. It is very filling and I am considering making this a mid-morning snack almost every day!
A drawback: This morning the mom who comes to make the ugi didn’t show up. That meant no ugi. I don’t know if or when the orphans get other food in the day, but the process is definitely dependent on this woman showing up in the morning…
Showers and Water
I have a shower in my very big bathroom. When I first got here, I was very conscious about conserving water and would take a short shower once a day or maybe every other day.
As it turns out, I am expected to take a minimum of THREE showers a day. My host mom keeps telling me that not taking a shower will make me tired (although I don’t really understand why). But the people here are by and large very keen on cleanliness, and showers are a definite must.
Interestingly, however, there have been some significant water issues lately. Tanga is a coastal city, and according to my host father has not had water shortages in years. However, since I’ve been here, the water stops working at least once a day for a good couple of hours. This is so unusual that my host father doesn’t have an extra water tank installed at his Tanga home…..but he is now beginning to reconsider.
As it turns out, I am expected to take a minimum of THREE showers a day. My host mom keeps telling me that not taking a shower will make me tired (although I don’t really understand why). But the people here are by and large very keen on cleanliness, and showers are a definite must.
Interestingly, however, there have been some significant water issues lately. Tanga is a coastal city, and according to my host father has not had water shortages in years. However, since I’ve been here, the water stops working at least once a day for a good couple of hours. This is so unusual that my host father doesn’t have an extra water tank installed at his Tanga home…..but he is now beginning to reconsider.
Laundry
So far, I have come across no washing machines or driers in Tanzania. Just buckets, soap, and clothes lines.
Currently, the deal I have with my host-mom is that she washes all of my clothes, and I am responsible for washing my “underpants.” I’m currently feeling a little guilty about this set up….but I also feel completely incompetent at washing my clothes by hand…..so hopefully we’ll find some time for me to really learn how to do it.
Almost everything comes out completely wrinkled (and also very stiff and starchy) so everything must also be ironed.
Overall, a very labor-intensive process….and feels kind of strange having access to so much technology (computers, modems, cell phones, PS2s) but having absolutely no washers or dryers as far as I’ve been able to gather.
Currently, the deal I have with my host-mom is that she washes all of my clothes, and I am responsible for washing my “underpants.” I’m currently feeling a little guilty about this set up….but I also feel completely incompetent at washing my clothes by hand…..so hopefully we’ll find some time for me to really learn how to do it.
Almost everything comes out completely wrinkled (and also very stiff and starchy) so everything must also be ironed.
Overall, a very labor-intensive process….and feels kind of strange having access to so much technology (computers, modems, cell phones, PS2s) but having absolutely no washers or dryers as far as I’ve been able to gather.
My Cool Kindle
My uncle and his family gave me a Kindle as an awesome present for my trip to Africa. This has allowed me to travel without the weight of books, and gives me access to almost any reading materials I could ever want.
Currently, I am reading The Help by Kathryn Stockett and also receive Time magazine once a week to keep up with the news a bit. I had to pay to download books internationally, but it was only a small one-time fee. Overall, I give the Kindle an A+!
Currently, I am reading The Help by Kathryn Stockett and also receive Time magazine once a week to keep up with the news a bit. I had to pay to download books internationally, but it was only a small one-time fee. Overall, I give the Kindle an A+!
An Empty House (Mostly)
Yesterday we put my sister Suzie on a bus to Arusha to return to her college studies. We also put my cousin Phineas who has been staying with us on a bus to Dar es Salam to start high school in 2 weeks. My older brother James went off for a few days to visit a friend, and my host dad is leaving tomorrow for the rest of the week.
That leaves me, my brother Chief, my host-mom, the helper, and her daughter. I guess that’s a lot of people, but compared to the crowd I’ve become used to the house is feeling pretty empty.
That leaves me, my brother Chief, my host-mom, the helper, and her daughter. I guess that’s a lot of people, but compared to the crowd I’ve become used to the house is feeling pretty empty.
A Little Laziness
Two nights ago I was too lazy to set up my mosquito net. I didn’t think there were any bugs in my room, but the non-stop scratching ever since then proves otherwise.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Kids at Play
Yesterday after school I went outside with the Kindergarten teacher to go over a soccer drill that I wanted to teach. Today, she explained it in Kiswahili to the Kindergarten class, and we had a blast dribbling back and forth in 5 lines with 5 balls. We then played a big game of monkey-in-the-middle before going inside to get back to class…
At recess, one of the kids (who presumably was watching us play out of the window) asked me for a ball. I gave it to him, and then another kid asked for one, and then another and another. Soon all of the balls were out on the field, and at least half of the school was playing on the field. I joined in the fun, choosing the game played by the oldest agegroup for fear of hurting the little guys. I haven’t seen that many kids out on the playing field during recess…..and the squeeling and laughter was fully contageous.
At recess, one of the kids (who presumably was watching us play out of the window) asked me for a ball. I gave it to him, and then another kid asked for one, and then another and another. Soon all of the balls were out on the field, and at least half of the school was playing on the field. I joined in the fun, choosing the game played by the oldest agegroup for fear of hurting the little guys. I haven’t seen that many kids out on the playing field during recess…..and the squeeling and laughter was fully contageous.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Internet Woes
I have purchased a modem for my phone that allows me to get wireless internet anywhere that Vodacom has service. My host father buys 500MB at a time, which lasts him about a month. I knew I would want to Skype and upload some pictures for my blog, so I bought a 2GB package, and was hoping it would go about a month and a half to two months.
1 week and 2 days after I purchased a 2GB data plan…..it ran out. My host father swore there was no possible way I could have used that much data, so I brought it back to the store to get “fixed.” When the vendor determined it had run out, (in the middle of working with 3 other people), he just added on 2GB more of data (without taking any money). At the same time I was asking another guy how I could have used so much data so quickly and what my best options were to avoid doing it in the future. He told me that my best bet was to buy either a one month or three month unlimited data plan. This was an obvious solution to my problem, so I told the man working on my modem that I wanted an unlimited 3 month plan for 162,000 TZ shillings instead of 2GBs worth that lasts me only 1 week for 94,000…..an obvious choice.
Unfortunately, the man at the counter (again without taking any money) had already put on 2GB and told me that I had to pay for it, use it, and then come back and buy the unlimited plan if I wanted it. Sorry, it was too late.
After about an hour of arguing with the people with my host-sister (in both English and Swahili) they finally caved in and gave me the unlimited plan I wanted. Apparently our femaleness and my whiteness was mistaken for stupidness…..but when I told them that I would walk out of the store and pay them nothing if they did not switch the plan, they conveniently remembered that they knew how to fix the problem.
On the plus side: I now have unlimited internet access and the ability to upload and download.
On the down side: This connection is significantly slower….
1 week and 2 days after I purchased a 2GB data plan…..it ran out. My host father swore there was no possible way I could have used that much data, so I brought it back to the store to get “fixed.” When the vendor determined it had run out, (in the middle of working with 3 other people), he just added on 2GB more of data (without taking any money). At the same time I was asking another guy how I could have used so much data so quickly and what my best options were to avoid doing it in the future. He told me that my best bet was to buy either a one month or three month unlimited data plan. This was an obvious solution to my problem, so I told the man working on my modem that I wanted an unlimited 3 month plan for 162,000 TZ shillings instead of 2GBs worth that lasts me only 1 week for 94,000…..an obvious choice.
Unfortunately, the man at the counter (again without taking any money) had already put on 2GB and told me that I had to pay for it, use it, and then come back and buy the unlimited plan if I wanted it. Sorry, it was too late.
After about an hour of arguing with the people with my host-sister (in both English and Swahili) they finally caved in and gave me the unlimited plan I wanted. Apparently our femaleness and my whiteness was mistaken for stupidness…..but when I told them that I would walk out of the store and pay them nothing if they did not switch the plan, they conveniently remembered that they knew how to fix the problem.
On the plus side: I now have unlimited internet access and the ability to upload and download.
On the down side: This connection is significantly slower….
Fruit for Thought
Mangoes here cost 50-100 Tanzanian shillings, depending on where you buy them. I have about 50 students in my class. If I bough each one of them a piece a fruit, it would cost me no more than $4. Almost every day a bicycle stops buy the school with a huge basket overflowing with mangoes and sells them at only 50 shillings….which would cost me less than $2. I asked Jacqueline today if it would be appropriate to give each child a mango…..so I think either tomorrow or next week we’ll be having a mango party in my class! (My real plan, of course, is to do this for every class here….wouldn’t want the other kids to feel left out!)
The Kindergarten Teacher
I stayed late after school today to work with the Kindergarten teacher on English…..in the process I learned quite a lot…..I thought I’d share this biography with you, since I was quite surprised at her story:
The Kindergarten teacher’s name is Jaqueline. She is 22 years old and has a 3 year old boy and a 30 year old husband. She did not pass her pre-highschool examinations so she is sitting to take them again soon. (HS is 2 yrs here). She wants to go to a local university and learn tailoring so that she can work at a university and teach other people how to tailor.
Today she was wearing a beautiful dress, which I forgot to take a picture of. I asked her how long it took her to make it from start to finish, and she said less than 1 day. I asked her why she needs to go to tailoring school if she is already such an expert……and she told me she needs to learn how to use a sewing machine and other sewing tools.
The Kindergarten teacher’s name is Jaqueline. She is 22 years old and has a 3 year old boy and a 30 year old husband. She did not pass her pre-highschool examinations so she is sitting to take them again soon. (HS is 2 yrs here). She wants to go to a local university and learn tailoring so that she can work at a university and teach other people how to tailor.
Today she was wearing a beautiful dress, which I forgot to take a picture of. I asked her how long it took her to make it from start to finish, and she said less than 1 day. I asked her why she needs to go to tailoring school if she is already such an expert……and she told me she needs to learn how to use a sewing machine and other sewing tools.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
A Better Day
I woke up this morning and made a list. I thought I’d be direct about what I needed to get for myself (toilet paper, money, internet access, more time on my cell phone, do my laundry) and what I wanted to do (browse a supermarket for American food to share with my host family, shop in the markets for gifts upon returning home, visit the local library)….I needed a new day, and this was my approach to a fresh start.
Turns out that was a remarkably brilliant plan. I’m not always so direct about what I want to do, but it was well received by my host-mom and she has since suggested I make a list for every day.
Anyway…Here’s what I did today…in list order:
1)Shower
2)Eat Breakfast
3)Clean Room
4)Download TIME magazine onto my Kindle with a subscription fee of less than $2/mo. And it works perfectly!
5)Catch a daladala bus (public transportation….more details to follow) for less than 50 cents into town to go to the Vodacom store.
6)Go to the Vodacom store and argue for an hour before finally getting a 3 month unlimited internet plan for 162,000 tz shillings (~ $124…….my excuses for not uploading pics are dwindling….although the connection is now a lot slower than it was before I purchased an unlimited plan…..)
7)Go to the bank
8)Go to the supermarket and buy pancakes and syrup and mac and cheese!
9)Go to the post office to figure out that it costs 27,000 TZ shillings (about $20 bucks)to ship 1 kg back to the US and 7 – 10 business days…..
10)Went to the market to buy 4 lovely Kangas with 4 beautiful sayings on them….(more details to follow)
11)Skyped my parents with my sister and tried to convince them to come visit me over the next school break….
12)Made BOTH pancakes and mac and cheese for dinner with my sister
13)Shower
14)Blogging
15)Reading my Time Magazine
16)Lala Salama……good night……
Turns out that was a remarkably brilliant plan. I’m not always so direct about what I want to do, but it was well received by my host-mom and she has since suggested I make a list for every day.
Anyway…Here’s what I did today…in list order:
1)Shower
2)Eat Breakfast
3)Clean Room
4)Download TIME magazine onto my Kindle with a subscription fee of less than $2/mo. And it works perfectly!
5)Catch a daladala bus (public transportation….more details to follow) for less than 50 cents into town to go to the Vodacom store.
6)Go to the Vodacom store and argue for an hour before finally getting a 3 month unlimited internet plan for 162,000 tz shillings (~ $124…….my excuses for not uploading pics are dwindling….although the connection is now a lot slower than it was before I purchased an unlimited plan…..)
7)Go to the bank
8)Go to the supermarket and buy pancakes and syrup and mac and cheese!
9)Go to the post office to figure out that it costs 27,000 TZ shillings (about $20 bucks)to ship 1 kg back to the US and 7 – 10 business days…..
10)Went to the market to buy 4 lovely Kangas with 4 beautiful sayings on them….(more details to follow)
11)Skyped my parents with my sister and tried to convince them to come visit me over the next school break….
12)Made BOTH pancakes and mac and cheese for dinner with my sister
13)Shower
14)Blogging
15)Reading my Time Magazine
16)Lala Salama……good night……
Mt. Kilimanjaro
Unfortunately the mountain was entirely covered in clouds this weekend and I was not able to catch a glimpse of the summit. I might be coming back through the region if I am able to go to one of the national parks, so there is still hope yet!
Chelsea Iko Wapi?
I met my oldest sister, Pamela this weekend. She has a 2 year old boy named Presely who everybody calls “P.” He wouldn’t talk for the first hour that I met him, and just sat and stared at me. When I finally brought out a soccer ball, he lit up and came to play with me. After that, there was no getting rid of him. If I left his side, he would say, “Che-shee, mjo!” (which means, come here!). Or if he wanted to go somewhere with me, he’d say “twende!” which means something like let’s go!
The funniest part however, was this game he would play, that I like to call “Iko Wapi,” which means, “where is .” He would pick any object or person in the house (like Che-shee, mpira (ball), uncle james…) And when he found it he would say “Apa!” which means “Here!”. By far his favorite, was of course, “Che-shee iko wapi?” which became quite a popular story for all 300 some people this weekend to talk about. I guess at least they all know my name now!
The funniest part however, was this game he would play, that I like to call “Iko Wapi,” which means, “where is .” He would pick any object or person in the house (like Che-shee, mpira (ball), uncle james…) And when he found it he would say “Apa!” which means “Here!”. By far his favorite, was of course, “Che-shee iko wapi?” which became quite a popular story for all 300 some people this weekend to talk about. I guess at least they all know my name now!
Food Tensions
Having a stomach bug here has been difficult to deal with, not because of the frequently clogging toilets and perpetual lack of toilet paper….but because not eating huge portions at meal times is very flustering to my host family. I have been trying to rest my stomach, and stick to rice, bananas, and water, but I am under constant watch and pressure to eat more and expand my palate. Explaining my problem allows some room for compromise, but I almost always end up overdoing it in the name of keeping the peace. After one meal of sticking to my guns and eating about a half a cup of rice, one banana, and a glass of water, they told me they were concerned I might waste away, and will take me to the hospital if I keep eating like this. The problem is, the more I eat, the longer I stay sick, the longer the food tensions persist. Not quite sure how this one is going to work out….
Dangerous Driving
I learned a lot about why the guidebooks make such a big deal about the dangers of driving in Tanzania. The highways in this country have a total of two lanes (only sometimes separated by a line). There is one lane for you, and one for the oncoming traffic. There are also some nonexistant lanes for bikes and pedestrians, but they seem to use the highway just as well. If they stray too far into the lane or are taking up too much room they get honked at by the cars wizzing by.
On the way there I had a chance to learn about how the driving worked with a relatively competent driver (my older brother). I learned that if there is oncoming traffic, you are supposed to turn on your innermost blinker. I thought that people do this to tell the oncoming night traffic exactly where the edge of your car is as they pass you close enough for a high-five. After asking about it, however, I learned that blinkers are used to tell the cars behind you that there is oncoming traffic and it is not safe to attempt to pass you. It also gives the oncoming traffic the confidence of knowing that the car behind you isn’t about to jump out and try and pass you (at least in theory).
The way back, however, was at insanely high speeds and 100% blinkerless. While I was far too stressed out to do the conversion in my head, I had a pretty good sense from the shaking of the car and the dial around 3 o’clock on the spedometer that 140 km/hr was probably too fast for these small highways against oncoming traffic and avoiding bikers on the sides. However, it took us getting up to crusing speeds of 160km/hr before I finally spoke up and informed everyone in the car that we were going too fast and that our speed was unsafe. I figured that if I was right, and they listened, I could be saving my own life. If I was wrong, and we were only going 40 miles per hour…..and I was both paranoid and mathematically challenged, then I would just have looked silly to them, and nothing more.
To preserve my sanity, although it was running thin for the entire 6 hour drive, I refused to actually calculate our speed in mph. However, I have since determined that our average crusing speed was around 87 mph with a max of 100 mph and a min of 75 mph. And even though I threw up this morning from this ongoing bug I seem to be having, I spent the entire ride sucking on candies and eating chips as a way to manage my stress in between informing the driver that he needed to slow down.
In short, I temporarily am retiring from visiting other parts of this country…..at least by car. I would say a big bus would be a good alternative, except that the whole reason we went to the Moshi/Arusha region this weekend was to pray at their family church and give thanks for my host-father having surivied a major bus accident a few months ago that he is still recovering from.
On the way there I had a chance to learn about how the driving worked with a relatively competent driver (my older brother). I learned that if there is oncoming traffic, you are supposed to turn on your innermost blinker. I thought that people do this to tell the oncoming night traffic exactly where the edge of your car is as they pass you close enough for a high-five. After asking about it, however, I learned that blinkers are used to tell the cars behind you that there is oncoming traffic and it is not safe to attempt to pass you. It also gives the oncoming traffic the confidence of knowing that the car behind you isn’t about to jump out and try and pass you (at least in theory).
The way back, however, was at insanely high speeds and 100% blinkerless. While I was far too stressed out to do the conversion in my head, I had a pretty good sense from the shaking of the car and the dial around 3 o’clock on the spedometer that 140 km/hr was probably too fast for these small highways against oncoming traffic and avoiding bikers on the sides. However, it took us getting up to crusing speeds of 160km/hr before I finally spoke up and informed everyone in the car that we were going too fast and that our speed was unsafe. I figured that if I was right, and they listened, I could be saving my own life. If I was wrong, and we were only going 40 miles per hour…..and I was both paranoid and mathematically challenged, then I would just have looked silly to them, and nothing more.
To preserve my sanity, although it was running thin for the entire 6 hour drive, I refused to actually calculate our speed in mph. However, I have since determined that our average crusing speed was around 87 mph with a max of 100 mph and a min of 75 mph. And even though I threw up this morning from this ongoing bug I seem to be having, I spent the entire ride sucking on candies and eating chips as a way to manage my stress in between informing the driver that he needed to slow down.
In short, I temporarily am retiring from visiting other parts of this country…..at least by car. I would say a big bus would be a good alternative, except that the whole reason we went to the Moshi/Arusha region this weekend was to pray at their family church and give thanks for my host-father having surivied a major bus accident a few months ago that he is still recovering from.
Nail Salon
My sister Susan wanted to get her hair done when we were in town this weekend. She asked if I wanted to go with her and get my toenails painted at the same time. I haven’t spent too much time with her, so I agreed to go. The hair place was too busy so we went and sat down outside some stores. After some very fast Swahili speaking, a man with a pastic basket filled with nailpolishes came up and started painting my nails. So right there in the middle of a strip of stores I am getting my toenails painted. I didn’t really have any interest in getting it done in the first place….but what the heck? Why not have some 20 year old guy squatting down in front of you to paint your toenails while the world passes by? How uncomfortable!
Church
My host father got in a major car accident when his bus blew out a wheel and ran into a smaller bus, killing about 20 people and injuring almost 100. He sustained signifcant leg injuries himself, we he initiallly didn’t realized while trying to help pull people out of the wreck, and is still suffering from some health issues post-accident.
Now that he is on his feet, albeit with a significant limp, we headed to Moshi to go to the families Church and give thanks that he survived. While the service was entirely in Swahili, it was a very interesting ceremony in a beautiful building with beautiful music. While I don’t know much about Church practices in general, there were several rounds of monetary and food donations during the mass, followed by an auction of the donated food outside following church services. Overall it was a little too much to explain, but all eyes in the community were certainly on me….this made trying to take cues from my host-mom even more stressful, but I think I performed decently, concidering.
Now that he is on his feet, albeit with a significant limp, we headed to Moshi to go to the families Church and give thanks that he survived. While the service was entirely in Swahili, it was a very interesting ceremony in a beautiful building with beautiful music. While I don’t know much about Church practices in general, there were several rounds of monetary and food donations during the mass, followed by an auction of the donated food outside following church services. Overall it was a little too much to explain, but all eyes in the community were certainly on me….this made trying to take cues from my host-mom even more stressful, but I think I performed decently, concidering.
Sun and Bugs
Moshi is supposed to have less bugs and be a much colder, milder climate than Tanga. Unfortunately, I came back with my first sunburn and more bugbites than I have had since I arrived in TZ.
Disclaimer
I appologize for the largely negative tone of this weekend’s posts. The whole experience was a little overwhelming for me, but still definitely worth sharing….more positive posts to follow as I settle back into my routine here in Tanga!
Friday, February 12, 2010
Double Trouble
There is a girl in my class who has proven herself to be quite a bully. I feel like I am always having to tell her to knock it off......
I should have known I was trying far too hard......it turns out she is actually they. Identical class clowns. Superific.
I should have known I was trying far too hard......it turns out she is actually they. Identical class clowns. Superific.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Weekend Adventure
This weekend I am off to Mt. Kilimanjaro! My family has four houses, one of which is in the town of Moshi with a beautiful view of the highest mountain in Africa. The whole family is going, including the older sister from Arusha who has a baby boy and is also 8 months pregnant. I am very excited to go, except for the 5 hour drive after school tomorrow….
I’m leaving my computer at home, but I’ll be sure to take a lot of pictures and upload them next week!
(Don’t Forget: The pictures I’m uploading are added to the end of the slideshow….so make sure to scroll all the way through to see the newest updates!)
I’m leaving my computer at home, but I’ll be sure to take a lot of pictures and upload them next week!
(Don’t Forget: The pictures I’m uploading are added to the end of the slideshow….so make sure to scroll all the way through to see the newest updates!)
School Projects
I am about to post a picture of the new Kindergarten classroom that is under construction. It still needs a roof, which will cost about 600,000 TZ shillings at a current conversion rate of about $1: 1,300 TZ sh. They are also looking into building a fence, hiring a night guard, and setting up more programs to help the orphan children attending the school (of which there are about 120). The Sommers Park school in England is involved with a lot of these projects…..My understanding is that they are paying for a breakfast program for the orphans, are sponsoring some of their educations, and are interested in funding the new fence. While I am always surprised at how inexpensive some of these projects seem, it is humbling to remember that many families struggle to meet the school fees of less than $10 each year.
Progress
Now that my youngest host brother is home, my Kiswahili is improving significantly. He and his cousin take me out on various adventures and we practice words in Kiswahili. Then when I come home I pull out my notebook and draw a picture of whatever we learned. They then help me fill in the words…and voila!
We have created quite the artbook so far…and have really established quite a base. I can talk about eating in a reasonable capacity, name various plants, fruits, and animals as well as tell the date and time. I have also spent a few hours after school working with two teachers on congugating various verbs. I understand the basic framework of the present tense now, and am starting to grasp the past tense.
Besides these lessons, I’ve also been teaching myself with my small dictionary and phrasebook. Who/What/Where/When/Why have become my best friends….as well as I do or don’t understand.
We have created quite the artbook so far…and have really established quite a base. I can talk about eating in a reasonable capacity, name various plants, fruits, and animals as well as tell the date and time. I have also spent a few hours after school working with two teachers on congugating various verbs. I understand the basic framework of the present tense now, and am starting to grasp the past tense.
Besides these lessons, I’ve also been teaching myself with my small dictionary and phrasebook. Who/What/Where/When/Why have become my best friends….as well as I do or don’t understand.
Mah-kah Pens
aka Stamper Pens in English. These have become an absolute highlight for the kids in my classes. I take a pen with a different stamp on it every day (heart, star, sun, butterfly etc.) and mark the answers in their workbook as correct with the stamp. The kids absolutely love it….and sometimes even make up their own exercises to do so that they can can extra stamps.
More Fun in Tanga
Dear Blog,
I am having the time of my life here in Tanga. Yesterday I went to school and taught “If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands” and then substitute taught for 1st graders in Kiswahili. I was literally thrown in with 63 first graders and told to have them all recite “ba / be / be / bo / bu ; cha / che / chi / cho / chu etc….,” have them write it in their notebooks, and then correct it. Luckily I have enough vocabulary now to say “be quiet,” “sit down,” “this is correc,t” “this is wrong,” “repeat,” and “tell me what this says.”
After an exhausting school day I came home and had lunch with my host brother and sister (Gilbert and Susan) who are now in the picture slideshow above. We then went to play soccer with the locals at the beach and go swimming in the Indian Ocean. It was amazing.
While I have been fairly outgoing and willing to try and eat/do/see almost anything, my stomach has unfortunately been less adventurous….After 3 days of upset stomach and far too much time in the bathroom instead of in the classroom, I finally have given in and started taking Imodium. I did make the mistake of telling my host mom about it, and now the entire town knows that I’m sick. Excellent.
~Chelsea
I am having the time of my life here in Tanga. Yesterday I went to school and taught “If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands” and then substitute taught for 1st graders in Kiswahili. I was literally thrown in with 63 first graders and told to have them all recite “ba / be / be / bo / bu ; cha / che / chi / cho / chu etc….,” have them write it in their notebooks, and then correct it. Luckily I have enough vocabulary now to say “be quiet,” “sit down,” “this is correc,t” “this is wrong,” “repeat,” and “tell me what this says.”
After an exhausting school day I came home and had lunch with my host brother and sister (Gilbert and Susan) who are now in the picture slideshow above. We then went to play soccer with the locals at the beach and go swimming in the Indian Ocean. It was amazing.
While I have been fairly outgoing and willing to try and eat/do/see almost anything, my stomach has unfortunately been less adventurous….After 3 days of upset stomach and far too much time in the bathroom instead of in the classroom, I finally have given in and started taking Imodium. I did make the mistake of telling my host mom about it, and now the entire town knows that I’m sick. Excellent.
~Chelsea
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Some Tidbits...
Apologies for the long delay. I have been very busy teaching, meeting people, learning Swahili, and talking with my host family. I also couldn’t figure out how to charge my computer for awhile or get on the internet.
This weekend I finally had some free time – so my host father took me to the Vodacom show where I bought a modem for my computer. I now have a USB device that gives me internet anywhere that they have cellphone towers. Pretty neat! Theoretically, I could bring the computer into my classroom and get the students on Skype, but unfortunately there’s not overlap in the school schedule. But I have time in my schedule….after 3pm and after 9pm every day….which for you guys means either early in the morning or in the afternoon (7am or 1pm). This changes from day to day….but at least Skype is an option! So far I’ve gotten to say hello to my dogs and see the crazy snow that everyone got at home….I hope you all got to keep your power, although it sounded like a lot of people have lost it.
I kept telling myself I’d go back and blog about this past week, but it will take me forever to play catchup…so I’ll just continue from here and make some thematic references back….
- My name. I figured it might be difficult for the Tanzanians to pronounce my name. For example, when Pilar visited the school they found it easier to call her “Pila.” As it turns out, there’s absolutely no problems. Thanks to some ingenious foresight on my parents’ part, introductions usually go something like this…..what is your name? chelsea? Like the football team? That is so great! Were you named that because of the football team? (to which I always say yes….no way I’m going to try and explain Joni Mitchell’s song, and saying yes makes everyone very excited….so I’ve just been going with it :-) Learning their names, however, is a completely different issue….
- Language barriers. I am apparently outnumbered here. Since many Tanzanians have learned English in secondary school, they have the majority on me when we have pronunciation differences. As such, I am relearning how to speak and pronounce English – quite an interesting process. For example, I was teaching the Kindergarten class about colors the other day, and I pointed to my skirt, which was purple. The teacher said no, that’s papo. I said what? She said, that’s papo. Ok fine. Papo. There about a million pronunciation differences…which I finally figured out is due to the British colonial influence in this country. Everyone speaks British English, which when learned as a second language by Swahili speakers comes out completely differently than I would expect. As such, both parties have trouble understanding each other. I have picked up on how to adjust my speech in order to be more understandable…..for example, turning –er into –a (like sholda instead of shoulder.) At first I thought it might be insulting or mocking to do so, but it seems to facilitate conversation and hasn’t come across poorly at all.
- Class size. Enormous. 50 – 70 students per class. There are a lot of differences in classroom management as well, which seem to be necessitated by the large class size. Individual attention is hard to come by, and rote memorization seems to be the norm as far as I can gather. Class size also becomes interesting as far as getting my attention. As you can see in the pictures above, students love to stand at the windows of my kindergarten class, and as soon as the camera comes out at recess – the crowds come running!
- High-fives. I introduced this practice whenever a kid gets a problem correct or does something right…..it took awhile for it to catch on, but they’ve gotten the hang of it. I couldn’t quite figure out why it took so long to catch on, or why they didn’t already do this…….UNTIL……I went to give one of my students a high-five….and she winced. Hitting a child is not uncommon in this culture, and when I figured out that that was the reaction to raising a hand, I felt horrible that I had ever introduced the practice.
- What am I doing here? They’ve placed me in a kindergarten class. They gave me a big desk at the back (bigger than the teacher, Jacqueline’s) and a chair. Kindergarten comes in the morning from 8am to 10am…and then from 11am to 1pm 1st grade and Kindergarten students come in for remedial education. In the morning I teach English and play games with the students…and learn Swahili! In the afternoon I do math with the first graders. This is awesome because in the mornings I have learned how to count. I now know enough to do addition with the kids. (E.g. 9 + 3 = 12……tisa na tatu sawasawa kumi na mbili!) I can tell them if it is right or wrong, so I am now correcting all of the math homework….which I love! They get so excited when I give them a stamp of a star on the top of their page when they get the problems right!
- Thinking on my toes. My first day….I was thrown into a 3rd grade class of 65 students and 1 soccer ball and told to teach them how to play the sport. They don’t speak English very well, and I speak practically no Swahili as of yet. I somehow managed to get them all to move their desks to the edges, make a circle, and play a game of head-catch with me. I didn’t teach them soccer, but they were entertained for a good 45 minutes. Some of the students tried to cheat by rejoining the game after they were out…and all of the children would yell and push them out of the circle….They would also laugh and squeal with glee whenever someone got out.
I have to go to bed now so that I can get up early for school tomorrow. Lots more to share! Please let me know if there’s something specific you want to know about. I’ve had many conversations about food, pop culture, government, sports, education etc…..I’ll get around to writing about all of it eventually….but let me know if you have specific interests! Good night!
This weekend I finally had some free time – so my host father took me to the Vodacom show where I bought a modem for my computer. I now have a USB device that gives me internet anywhere that they have cellphone towers. Pretty neat! Theoretically, I could bring the computer into my classroom and get the students on Skype, but unfortunately there’s not overlap in the school schedule. But I have time in my schedule….after 3pm and after 9pm every day….which for you guys means either early in the morning or in the afternoon (7am or 1pm). This changes from day to day….but at least Skype is an option! So far I’ve gotten to say hello to my dogs and see the crazy snow that everyone got at home….I hope you all got to keep your power, although it sounded like a lot of people have lost it.
I kept telling myself I’d go back and blog about this past week, but it will take me forever to play catchup…so I’ll just continue from here and make some thematic references back….
- My name. I figured it might be difficult for the Tanzanians to pronounce my name. For example, when Pilar visited the school they found it easier to call her “Pila.” As it turns out, there’s absolutely no problems. Thanks to some ingenious foresight on my parents’ part, introductions usually go something like this…..what is your name? chelsea? Like the football team? That is so great! Were you named that because of the football team? (to which I always say yes….no way I’m going to try and explain Joni Mitchell’s song, and saying yes makes everyone very excited….so I’ve just been going with it :-) Learning their names, however, is a completely different issue….
- Language barriers. I am apparently outnumbered here. Since many Tanzanians have learned English in secondary school, they have the majority on me when we have pronunciation differences. As such, I am relearning how to speak and pronounce English – quite an interesting process. For example, I was teaching the Kindergarten class about colors the other day, and I pointed to my skirt, which was purple. The teacher said no, that’s papo. I said what? She said, that’s papo. Ok fine. Papo. There about a million pronunciation differences…which I finally figured out is due to the British colonial influence in this country. Everyone speaks British English, which when learned as a second language by Swahili speakers comes out completely differently than I would expect. As such, both parties have trouble understanding each other. I have picked up on how to adjust my speech in order to be more understandable…..for example, turning –er into –a (like sholda instead of shoulder.) At first I thought it might be insulting or mocking to do so, but it seems to facilitate conversation and hasn’t come across poorly at all.
- Class size. Enormous. 50 – 70 students per class. There are a lot of differences in classroom management as well, which seem to be necessitated by the large class size. Individual attention is hard to come by, and rote memorization seems to be the norm as far as I can gather. Class size also becomes interesting as far as getting my attention. As you can see in the pictures above, students love to stand at the windows of my kindergarten class, and as soon as the camera comes out at recess – the crowds come running!
- High-fives. I introduced this practice whenever a kid gets a problem correct or does something right…..it took awhile for it to catch on, but they’ve gotten the hang of it. I couldn’t quite figure out why it took so long to catch on, or why they didn’t already do this…….UNTIL……I went to give one of my students a high-five….and she winced. Hitting a child is not uncommon in this culture, and when I figured out that that was the reaction to raising a hand, I felt horrible that I had ever introduced the practice.
- What am I doing here? They’ve placed me in a kindergarten class. They gave me a big desk at the back (bigger than the teacher, Jacqueline’s) and a chair. Kindergarten comes in the morning from 8am to 10am…and then from 11am to 1pm 1st grade and Kindergarten students come in for remedial education. In the morning I teach English and play games with the students…and learn Swahili! In the afternoon I do math with the first graders. This is awesome because in the mornings I have learned how to count. I now know enough to do addition with the kids. (E.g. 9 + 3 = 12……tisa na tatu sawasawa kumi na mbili!) I can tell them if it is right or wrong, so I am now correcting all of the math homework….which I love! They get so excited when I give them a stamp of a star on the top of their page when they get the problems right!
- Thinking on my toes. My first day….I was thrown into a 3rd grade class of 65 students and 1 soccer ball and told to teach them how to play the sport. They don’t speak English very well, and I speak practically no Swahili as of yet. I somehow managed to get them all to move their desks to the edges, make a circle, and play a game of head-catch with me. I didn’t teach them soccer, but they were entertained for a good 45 minutes. Some of the students tried to cheat by rejoining the game after they were out…and all of the children would yell and push them out of the circle….They would also laugh and squeal with glee whenever someone got out.
I have to go to bed now so that I can get up early for school tomorrow. Lots more to share! Please let me know if there’s something specific you want to know about. I’ve had many conversations about food, pop culture, government, sports, education etc…..I’ll get around to writing about all of it eventually….but let me know if you have specific interests! Good night!
Saturday, February 6, 2010
My First Night In Tanga....
Dear Blog,
I woke up this morning (Tuesday Feb. 02…)to a dog barking and a rooster cock-a-doodle-doo-ing. This would have been a fine way for me to wake up, were it not 2am. I can’t seem to go back to sleep….I am not sure which timezone my body is in at the moment, but I hope I get over it soon because I don’t want to be falling asleep at the school.
Anyway, I have arrived safely in Tanga. The adventure list so far includes: no driver showed up at the airport to meet me as I had arranged with my hotel, so I took a taxi at 12:30 am…which made me a bit nervous. This particular taxi was more interested in looking at me and giving me high-fives than looking at the road, and also felt that honking as you pass through a red light is more effective than stopping. I have since asked my host brother about this and he says that my driver was, in fact, a little crazy. People do stop for red lights in Tanzania .
My hotel experience was also quite interesting. I arrived and was given a cold towel for my hands and apple juice while trying to sign paperwork and argue about payment (I have since told my Tanzania family that they do not often do this in America, and they were very surprised). As I thought, I had already paid for my room, but they charged me twice anyway (as I was informed by the manager the next morning). After paying I went up to my room and fell asleep watching cricket on the television – which I have never seen before.
The next morning I woke up with one specific goal in mind: getting all of my 35kg of baggage to Tanga. The company I was flying with from DAR to Tanga (Costal Aviation) only allows for 15kg and claims to charge $25/extra kg. I had all sorts of backup plans like buying a seat on the plane for my lugggage, sending it on a bus, hiring a driver to drive it to the school, or mailing it. Before pursuing these options though, I had the hotel manager call (because I have learned that my version of English is largely incomprehensible to everyone here, and Swahili is also not my strong suit). She found out that the baggage was only $1/kg extra, so I decided that was the best option. As it turns out, they charged me nothing for it. Pretty good considering I was willing to spend a significant amount of money to ensure the school supplies arrived for the children. Maybe I’ll spend that budgeted amount on more things for the school.
In any case, after a lovely (and somewhat bumpy) plane ride from Dar es Salaam to the islands of Zanzibar and then Pemba, I finally arrived in Tanga. I learned that Dramamine might actually be effective, since I didn’t get sick in true Chelsea form. My plane was running late because a lot of foreigners were being difficult with the airport staff, so I had to call Victoria (my host mother) and tell her I was running late – which brings me to an update on my cell phone status...
My hotel had a cellphone store where I bought a small Nokia phone, SIM card, and airtime. I was amazed at how many phone options I had, from the most basic up to the Blackberry Tour (at least thrity different kinds). The airtime is interesting because you get these lottery ticket-type cards (about 1”x1”) for a set amount (e.g. 5,000 Tzch) and then you scratch off the back to reveal a long number. You then plug that number into your phone, and it adds the money to it. I was a little unclear about the rates, since most of the answers to my questions were, “it depends.” Anyway, I have been able to call people in Tanzania, and even my parents back home! I have successfully sent a text message to my dad, but my mobile carrier, Zain, doesn’t have a partnership with Verizon so my dad can’t send me any in reply. I haven’t decided if I’ll switch to another carrier/SIM card yet (like Vodacom), but I’ll keep everyone posted after some more research. I must say, though, talking to my dad on a cell phone from Africa was quite an experience. Besides being an amazing comfort after many hours of travelling, I can’t seem to get my mind around how technology is making these connections possible. I even have the wireless service necessary for downloading books and newspapers to my Kindle – (which reminds me…Dad, could you please look at what the international download fee is on kindle for the Washington post. I can’t tell if I have to pay for the service once or every time I get the paper. And does the fee apply to books too? Asante sana.)
Okay, now to my host family. I am staying with a woman named Victoria. She has an amazingly beautiful home that is very large and can accommodate many people (She also has 3 other houses – in Arusha, Dar, and somewhere else). I even have my own room with a queen sized bed and a bathroom/shower/sink room all to myself. I think I may even have more space than I do back in the States. Her home is a mixture of indoor and outdoor areas, and there is a roof on the top which is perfect for all sorts of things like star watching, soccer games (I’m hoping) and eating outside. It has walls that are about waist height and it covers a large area. From there, you can watch all of the activity in the streets. There is also a guard at her house, which is a new concept to me. They seem to have multiple cars, a very new and big television that almost competes with my dad’s. There is also one “helper” who has a very cute daughter named Deborah (pronounced Day-boor-ah) who is 2 years and 4 months old (unfortunately she has malaria now and is taking medicine for it). She is very quiet, and serious but is definitely starting to warm up to me. She’s also quite an avid soccer player and spent part of the evening kicking one of the soccer balls around the living room.
The food here is also amazing. Victoria has been preparing traditional Tanzanian food for me, which has been nice. But food has been one of the most stressful times for me (although it’s not really stress, it just requires me to be extra sensitive and pay attention to their customs.) So far I have been “yelled at”/questioned for only filling my glass half way up with juice instead of filling it, not taking enough food, and not having enough servings. I also haven’t figured out what amount of protesting is considered appropriate/polite/expected, but I imagine I will figure it out. I also tried to wait for everyone to sit down before eating, which turned out not to be the general practice here. All of this is fine, but is funny that every time I try and be polite according to American standards, it appears to them that like I don’t like their food, which is certainly not the case. I also found myself passing a plate with my left hand at dinner, which no one said anything about (although I have read that this is not acceptable in this culture). I, however, had a little bit of a freak out and almost dropped the plate when I saw myself doing it. Interestingly, this also brought my attention to how they use forks an knives. So far, everyone I have seen has their fork in their right hand and the knife in their left, whereas I do the reverse. I’m interested to see if this is universal and if it is also based on the same principles as not passing or shaking hands with your left hand. I tried switching my utensils, but switched back when I found it to be more equivalent to writing with my left hand than to using chopsticks.
Today when I go to school I will bring all of the gifts and hopefully visit the Kindergarten classroom. Halifa, the head of Chumbageni Primary School who I met very briefly yesterday, told me that he will take me to see the Education Head tomorrow. I also need to visit the immigration office to tell them that I will be working at the school.
Victoria is also very smart, and asked me if I need to pack a lunch for tomorrow. As far as I can tell, they eat breakfast, and then lunch after school at 2:30pm, which she has already decided is too late for the American, and then dinner (which we ate last night at 9pm). Time is also very interesting….because it functions in two ways. There is the regular time that we are used to (plus eight hours in this time zone, of course) and then there is Swahili time. I must say, I didn’t actually think this was real because it would be far to confusing….but it turns out to be a real thing. The clock starts at sunrise at 12:00 (i.e. 6am regular time) and counts up from one every hour past that until the sun sets at 12:00. So when Victoria told me we go to school at 2 and get out at 8….she meant we start at 8am and get out at 2pm. In any case, this 6 hour difference is certainly enough to make things a bit confusing, but thanks to the CultureSmart book I read I knew to be on the look-out for this and I am constantly clarifying which time they mean.
By now you have probably stopped reading – which is totally fine by me. Anyway, thank you Blog for keeping me company in the middle of the night. I’ll talk to you tomorrow!
~Chelsea
I woke up this morning (Tuesday Feb. 02…)to a dog barking and a rooster cock-a-doodle-doo-ing. This would have been a fine way for me to wake up, were it not 2am. I can’t seem to go back to sleep….I am not sure which timezone my body is in at the moment, but I hope I get over it soon because I don’t want to be falling asleep at the school.
Anyway, I have arrived safely in Tanga. The adventure list so far includes: no driver showed up at the airport to meet me as I had arranged with my hotel, so I took a taxi at 12:30 am…which made me a bit nervous. This particular taxi was more interested in looking at me and giving me high-fives than looking at the road, and also felt that honking as you pass through a red light is more effective than stopping. I have since asked my host brother about this and he says that my driver was, in fact, a little crazy. People do stop for red lights in Tanzania .
My hotel experience was also quite interesting. I arrived and was given a cold towel for my hands and apple juice while trying to sign paperwork and argue about payment (I have since told my Tanzania family that they do not often do this in America, and they were very surprised). As I thought, I had already paid for my room, but they charged me twice anyway (as I was informed by the manager the next morning). After paying I went up to my room and fell asleep watching cricket on the television – which I have never seen before.
The next morning I woke up with one specific goal in mind: getting all of my 35kg of baggage to Tanga. The company I was flying with from DAR to Tanga (Costal Aviation) only allows for 15kg and claims to charge $25/extra kg. I had all sorts of backup plans like buying a seat on the plane for my lugggage, sending it on a bus, hiring a driver to drive it to the school, or mailing it. Before pursuing these options though, I had the hotel manager call (because I have learned that my version of English is largely incomprehensible to everyone here, and Swahili is also not my strong suit). She found out that the baggage was only $1/kg extra, so I decided that was the best option. As it turns out, they charged me nothing for it. Pretty good considering I was willing to spend a significant amount of money to ensure the school supplies arrived for the children. Maybe I’ll spend that budgeted amount on more things for the school.
In any case, after a lovely (and somewhat bumpy) plane ride from Dar es Salaam to the islands of Zanzibar and then Pemba, I finally arrived in Tanga. I learned that Dramamine might actually be effective, since I didn’t get sick in true Chelsea form. My plane was running late because a lot of foreigners were being difficult with the airport staff, so I had to call Victoria (my host mother) and tell her I was running late – which brings me to an update on my cell phone status...
My hotel had a cellphone store where I bought a small Nokia phone, SIM card, and airtime. I was amazed at how many phone options I had, from the most basic up to the Blackberry Tour (at least thrity different kinds). The airtime is interesting because you get these lottery ticket-type cards (about 1”x1”) for a set amount (e.g. 5,000 Tzch) and then you scratch off the back to reveal a long number. You then plug that number into your phone, and it adds the money to it. I was a little unclear about the rates, since most of the answers to my questions were, “it depends.” Anyway, I have been able to call people in Tanzania, and even my parents back home! I have successfully sent a text message to my dad, but my mobile carrier, Zain, doesn’t have a partnership with Verizon so my dad can’t send me any in reply. I haven’t decided if I’ll switch to another carrier/SIM card yet (like Vodacom), but I’ll keep everyone posted after some more research. I must say, though, talking to my dad on a cell phone from Africa was quite an experience. Besides being an amazing comfort after many hours of travelling, I can’t seem to get my mind around how technology is making these connections possible. I even have the wireless service necessary for downloading books and newspapers to my Kindle – (which reminds me…Dad, could you please look at what the international download fee is on kindle for the Washington post. I can’t tell if I have to pay for the service once or every time I get the paper. And does the fee apply to books too? Asante sana.)
Okay, now to my host family. I am staying with a woman named Victoria. She has an amazingly beautiful home that is very large and can accommodate many people (She also has 3 other houses – in Arusha, Dar, and somewhere else). I even have my own room with a queen sized bed and a bathroom/shower/sink room all to myself. I think I may even have more space than I do back in the States. Her home is a mixture of indoor and outdoor areas, and there is a roof on the top which is perfect for all sorts of things like star watching, soccer games (I’m hoping) and eating outside. It has walls that are about waist height and it covers a large area. From there, you can watch all of the activity in the streets. There is also a guard at her house, which is a new concept to me. They seem to have multiple cars, a very new and big television that almost competes with my dad’s. There is also one “helper” who has a very cute daughter named Deborah (pronounced Day-boor-ah) who is 2 years and 4 months old (unfortunately she has malaria now and is taking medicine for it). She is very quiet, and serious but is definitely starting to warm up to me. She’s also quite an avid soccer player and spent part of the evening kicking one of the soccer balls around the living room.
The food here is also amazing. Victoria has been preparing traditional Tanzanian food for me, which has been nice. But food has been one of the most stressful times for me (although it’s not really stress, it just requires me to be extra sensitive and pay attention to their customs.) So far I have been “yelled at”/questioned for only filling my glass half way up with juice instead of filling it, not taking enough food, and not having enough servings. I also haven’t figured out what amount of protesting is considered appropriate/polite/expected, but I imagine I will figure it out. I also tried to wait for everyone to sit down before eating, which turned out not to be the general practice here. All of this is fine, but is funny that every time I try and be polite according to American standards, it appears to them that like I don’t like their food, which is certainly not the case. I also found myself passing a plate with my left hand at dinner, which no one said anything about (although I have read that this is not acceptable in this culture). I, however, had a little bit of a freak out and almost dropped the plate when I saw myself doing it. Interestingly, this also brought my attention to how they use forks an knives. So far, everyone I have seen has their fork in their right hand and the knife in their left, whereas I do the reverse. I’m interested to see if this is universal and if it is also based on the same principles as not passing or shaking hands with your left hand. I tried switching my utensils, but switched back when I found it to be more equivalent to writing with my left hand than to using chopsticks.
Today when I go to school I will bring all of the gifts and hopefully visit the Kindergarten classroom. Halifa, the head of Chumbageni Primary School who I met very briefly yesterday, told me that he will take me to see the Education Head tomorrow. I also need to visit the immigration office to tell them that I will be working at the school.
Victoria is also very smart, and asked me if I need to pack a lunch for tomorrow. As far as I can tell, they eat breakfast, and then lunch after school at 2:30pm, which she has already decided is too late for the American, and then dinner (which we ate last night at 9pm). Time is also very interesting….because it functions in two ways. There is the regular time that we are used to (plus eight hours in this time zone, of course) and then there is Swahili time. I must say, I didn’t actually think this was real because it would be far to confusing….but it turns out to be a real thing. The clock starts at sunrise at 12:00 (i.e. 6am regular time) and counts up from one every hour past that until the sun sets at 12:00. So when Victoria told me we go to school at 2 and get out at 8….she meant we start at 8am and get out at 2pm. In any case, this 6 hour difference is certainly enough to make things a bit confusing, but thanks to the CultureSmart book I read I knew to be on the look-out for this and I am constantly clarifying which time they mean.
By now you have probably stopped reading – which is totally fine by me. Anyway, thank you Blog for keeping me company in the middle of the night. I’ll talk to you tomorrow!
~Chelsea
Monday, February 1, 2010
Dar to Tanga
Hi All!
I am about to leave for my flight to Tanga.
So far I have managed to convince the airline to accept my extra baggage at a rate of $1/ extra kg. Pretty good considering the posted rate for extra baggage is $25/kg.
I also got a phone, although I haven't figured out how to call people yet.
Off to exchange money, grab a bite to eat, address malaria mondays, and check out....
Talk to you all in Tanga! Hope you are all sleeping well...
~Chelsea
I am about to leave for my flight to Tanga.
So far I have managed to convince the airline to accept my extra baggage at a rate of $1/ extra kg. Pretty good considering the posted rate for extra baggage is $25/kg.
I also got a phone, although I haven't figured out how to call people yet.
Off to exchange money, grab a bite to eat, address malaria mondays, and check out....
Talk to you all in Tanga! Hope you are all sleeping well...
~Chelsea
Sunday, January 31, 2010
I can't believe it!
I made all my planes
I'm waiting at the Arusha airport in Tanzania for my final flight (1 hr) into Tanga
There is internet connection on this plane....
And I'm feeling good!
Hugs to everyone in the states. I'm going to try really hard to not rub in the fact that it's eighty degrees here right now.....
Next steps:
driver
hotel
sleep
I'm waiting at the Arusha airport in Tanzania for my final flight (1 hr) into Tanga
There is internet connection on this plane....
And I'm feeling good!
Hugs to everyone in the states. I'm going to try really hard to not rub in the fact that it's eighty degrees here right now.....
Next steps:
driver
hotel
sleep
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)