It is Saturday evening and we have returned to the Foot2Afrika house in Moshi after being on safari for 7 days. Safari was an amazing and awesome experience which we will have to recap in the upcoming days. We also have thousands of photographs to upload. But for now, we are exhausted and need some rest. Sunday we have the day to hang out at the house, pack, and hopefully get some blogs posted and photos uploaded. Lala salama....good night!
Oh......thank you, asante sana, most especially to Thadei, our safari guide, and also to Safari Infinity, for a magnificent safari! More to come......
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Sickness takes over the house
Rebecca and I have been sick for the greater part
of the last 3 weeks, due to the fact that we are always around sick children at
the orphanage. I missed a day of
teaching at KOC during our second week here due to a bad cold, and then started
feeling a little better. Then Rebecca started feeling sick and I got sicker,
and then we passed it all around the volunteer house. And the other volunteers
are always around sick children also, so the house is a bed of germs and
viruses and bacteria, and we just pass it back and forth.
Rebecca went to the medical clinic today, and
for about 30,000 TSH (about $19 US) she saw a medical doctor, had blood work
completed, and walked out with 4 medications, one of which was like the ZPAC antibiotic
we get at home. $19.00!!!!!!!!! In the
duka la dawa (pharmacy) you can purchase many prescription medications without
a prescription. We may have even been able to purchase the ZPAC without the
doctor, but as it was, we just got it at the medical clinic where they did the
exam and the bloodwork. Some (but very few) things are easier here than at
home.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Tidbits
Answers to some questions we have been asked, and various other bits of information:
- It is hard to distinguish the young boys from the girls, since all the young kids have their heads shaved. Names are not always a help either: we have one boy in our class whose name is Elisha. I do not know if there is an age, or a custom, at which time the girls start to grow their hair longer.
- The dala dala ride to most parts of town cost 300 shillings. The conversion rate for US dollars to shillings is currently at 1585 shillings per dollar. Dala dala rides are therefore a very inexpensive mode of transportation,; hence the need to pack as many bodies and baskets of produce into one dala dala.
- Walking is the main mode of transportation, followed by dala dala.
- In terms of the vehicles on the streets, I think that small motorcycles are the most numerous, followed by dala dala, then taxis, followed by private cars/jeeps, etc. There are also many bicycles on the streets. They all have the right of way over pedestrians; even the men pushing carts full of goods have the right of way over people walking.
- We have not seen one traffic light/signal since we arrived. Many intersections are crazy, and very dangerous. I have no idea how there are not more accidents on the roads. We have not seen one accident since we arrived, other than a bicycle that tipped over while trying to stop.
- Satellite dishes are most likely for television. There are few land line telephones, and it seems almost everyone has a cell phone. It is unlikely that anyone has internet access at home (well, maybe a few do), as this is a very, very poor country. Even seeing a television in a home is shocking, due to the depth of poverty that exists here.
More to come......time for a shower before folks return from their projects. I LONG for a good shower!!!!!
More to come......time for a shower before folks return from their projects. I LONG for a good shower!!!!!
Sunday, June 17, 2012
new photos
New photos of smiling children are posted on Picasa. I have also added captions.
My (our) apologies for not getting a new blog post up: the time just rushes by!
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Here comes the bride...
Wednesday June 13, 2012
Three marriage proposals in the last week ... I'm not sure I can keep up with all the demands of three men fighting over me. The first happened in the beginning of the week and I just kind of laughed it off because I thought he was joking. His name? Moses. He is a local flycatcher who has been following us around for the past three weeks. As mom puts it "he goes gaga every time he looks at me." When he first proposed he told me I was worth one cow... talk about a slap in the face. He then raised his price to two cows. You're probably thinking what on earth is she talking about, cows? Yes.. It is Tanzanian Maasai tradition for the male to pay his wife's family in cows for her hand in marriage. On average, one cow costs about 500,000 to 700,000 shillings which equates to about $300-450. After I found out how much one cow costs, I kind of felt bad for telling him I was worth more than that. He probably can only afford one cow, if that. I don't feel too bad though because Maasai are also entitled to more than one wife, so who knows how many other mzungu's he's trying to wed himself to. Since then, Moses has successfully seeked me out in a crowd of people and has made it nearly impossible to escape. He tells me that he has to win over the affection of my mother before he can proceed with our (mine and his) relationship. When he finds us on the streets of Moshi town he won't talk to me until he says "shikamoo mama" to my mom, then he directs his attention to me. For those wondering, shikamoo is a respectful way of saying hello to people older than yourself. Mom gets a kick out of the fact that he is trying to win her respect, and she says her new plan is to tell him that if he seriously wants to marry me then he will have to buy 1,000 cows. I think once he hears this he might change his mind about his marriage proposal.
As for the second marriage proposal, that happened last night. This individual told me that he loved me and he wanted to know if I loved him. Funny thing is, I know NOTHING about this person, and he knows NOTHING about me. He got offended when I asked "how can I love you when I don't know you". He told me "when you know, you know". I find it kind of funny because I've always been the kind of person who believed that when you loved someone you would just know. Perhaps he's correct, but unfortunately I just don't feel for him the same way he feels for me. African culture regarding relationships and marriage are a lot different here than they are in America, and I unknowingly accepted his marriage proposal. He handed me a simple red rose and I just thought he was being nice and giving me a flower. I know that in America the red rose is often associated with romance and affection but apparently in Africa it means you are accepting his love, so therefore his marriage proposal. I also learned that if he gives the woman a red rose in a crowd of people (which he did), that signifies he is serious and he's not ashamed to admit his love. Great for him, but bad for me... I've never been the kind of person that was good at rejecting people, so I'm not sure how to go about this. I've been warned by our friend Cessy that if I don't let him know how I feel now, than I will only be giving him hope and leading him on. I can already see that taking affect within the last 24 hours because he was very insistent that I had to give him an answer on whether or not I would give him a chance. He is also not too fond of other men talking to me or even looking at me. I wonder what he would do if he saw all the flycatchers who follow me around town...
The third and final marriage proposal, for now, occurred this afternoon on our way to lunch. This person happens to be another flycatcher, who knows fiance #1 (Moses). The best part is that he is the SAME person who sold a souvenir to my mother for three times the price we should of paid. I saw him this afternoon, while being held up with Moses, and told him in Swahili that he had ripped us off on this item. He then proceeded to tell me that I was beautiful and a very nice girl. Not exactly the answer I was expecting after I had just insulted him and his shop that he works for... A few minutes later I had had enough of all the flycatchers swarming us so I started to head towards the restaurant we were attempting to go to. He proceeded to follow us to the restaurant with his arm around my shoulders. In Swahili he said "wewe nimzuri sana" which translates to him thinking that I am great.. then in English he said he would like to make me his wife. Did I forget to mention that he's probably a 60 year old man, with dreads? All I could do was laugh, partially in disbelief and partially in disgust.
I'm starting to wonder how bad it would be if I didn't have my mother with me everyday walking through town. I have a feeling my marriage proposal count would be a lot higher if not for her being there. Luckily, I have people like Cessy who was able to spend a decent amount of time telling me all about the African culture regarding relationships and marriage. For now, no wedding dates have been set....
Three marriage proposals in the last week ... I'm not sure I can keep up with all the demands of three men fighting over me. The first happened in the beginning of the week and I just kind of laughed it off because I thought he was joking. His name? Moses. He is a local flycatcher who has been following us around for the past three weeks. As mom puts it "he goes gaga every time he looks at me." When he first proposed he told me I was worth one cow... talk about a slap in the face. He then raised his price to two cows. You're probably thinking what on earth is she talking about, cows? Yes.. It is Tanzanian Maasai tradition for the male to pay his wife's family in cows for her hand in marriage. On average, one cow costs about 500,000 to 700,000 shillings which equates to about $300-450. After I found out how much one cow costs, I kind of felt bad for telling him I was worth more than that. He probably can only afford one cow, if that. I don't feel too bad though because Maasai are also entitled to more than one wife, so who knows how many other mzungu's he's trying to wed himself to. Since then, Moses has successfully seeked me out in a crowd of people and has made it nearly impossible to escape. He tells me that he has to win over the affection of my mother before he can proceed with our (mine and his) relationship. When he finds us on the streets of Moshi town he won't talk to me until he says "shikamoo mama" to my mom, then he directs his attention to me. For those wondering, shikamoo is a respectful way of saying hello to people older than yourself. Mom gets a kick out of the fact that he is trying to win her respect, and she says her new plan is to tell him that if he seriously wants to marry me then he will have to buy 1,000 cows. I think once he hears this he might change his mind about his marriage proposal.
As for the second marriage proposal, that happened last night. This individual told me that he loved me and he wanted to know if I loved him. Funny thing is, I know NOTHING about this person, and he knows NOTHING about me. He got offended when I asked "how can I love you when I don't know you". He told me "when you know, you know". I find it kind of funny because I've always been the kind of person who believed that when you loved someone you would just know. Perhaps he's correct, but unfortunately I just don't feel for him the same way he feels for me. African culture regarding relationships and marriage are a lot different here than they are in America, and I unknowingly accepted his marriage proposal. He handed me a simple red rose and I just thought he was being nice and giving me a flower. I know that in America the red rose is often associated with romance and affection but apparently in Africa it means you are accepting his love, so therefore his marriage proposal. I also learned that if he gives the woman a red rose in a crowd of people (which he did), that signifies he is serious and he's not ashamed to admit his love. Great for him, but bad for me... I've never been the kind of person that was good at rejecting people, so I'm not sure how to go about this. I've been warned by our friend Cessy that if I don't let him know how I feel now, than I will only be giving him hope and leading him on. I can already see that taking affect within the last 24 hours because he was very insistent that I had to give him an answer on whether or not I would give him a chance. He is also not too fond of other men talking to me or even looking at me. I wonder what he would do if he saw all the flycatchers who follow me around town...
The third and final marriage proposal, for now, occurred this afternoon on our way to lunch. This person happens to be another flycatcher, who knows fiance #1 (Moses). The best part is that he is the SAME person who sold a souvenir to my mother for three times the price we should of paid. I saw him this afternoon, while being held up with Moses, and told him in Swahili that he had ripped us off on this item. He then proceeded to tell me that I was beautiful and a very nice girl. Not exactly the answer I was expecting after I had just insulted him and his shop that he works for... A few minutes later I had had enough of all the flycatchers swarming us so I started to head towards the restaurant we were attempting to go to. He proceeded to follow us to the restaurant with his arm around my shoulders. In Swahili he said "wewe nimzuri sana" which translates to him thinking that I am great.. then in English he said he would like to make me his wife. Did I forget to mention that he's probably a 60 year old man, with dreads? All I could do was laugh, partially in disbelief and partially in disgust.
I'm starting to wonder how bad it would be if I didn't have my mother with me everyday walking through town. I have a feeling my marriage proposal count would be a lot higher if not for her being there. Luckily, I have people like Cessy who was able to spend a decent amount of time telling me all about the African culture regarding relationships and marriage. For now, no wedding dates have been set....
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Photos are posted
I am still in the process of adding descriptions, but all of my (Kathy's) pictures are up on Picasa, just follow this link.
https://picasaweb.google.com/107316332939092298495/Tanzania2012#
For now, lala salama.
https://picasaweb.google.com/107316332939092298495/Tanzania2012#
For now, lala salama.
My first bad day
Friday, June 8, 2012
Yet another long and exhausting Friday.. this time I'm the one who is sick boo-hoo. I seem to have caught a cold from the other children as I sniffle just about as much as they do. My sinuses are all congested and I haven't felt like doing anything all day. That didn't stop me from going to the orphanage this morning, even though I thought about staying home. The children were rowdier than ever and I had zero patience. I ended up actually yelling at one of the younger boys, Elisha. Not only did I surprise him but I surprised myself. I thought oh my goodness did that really just come out of MY mouth, did I scream "No" to a child who was only seeking my attention? A minute later the boy was in tears and despite the other kids saying another kid hit him I couldn't help but think I was the reason he was crying. The feeling I got over seeing him cry and thinking it was my fault made me feel even worse that I already did. Elisha is a tough child to deal with on any given day (I think he suffers from ADD) and I'm used to telling him no, but never to the extreme that I did this morning. The whole rest of the day I have been thinking about whether or not he would forgive me or even remember once Monday comes around. Hmm, maybe I should of taken the day off after all.
The day didn't get much better, I mean lunch was nice in town and we did some shopping with Deb's friend Iesha but I myself didn't feel much better. We went to Mbuyni market which is the biggest market in Moshi town but the whole time I didn't feel comfortable. I was warned before entering to hold on tight to my belongings because people in Mbuyni market are known to snatch your bags and run. Once inside the market there's constant noise (no unusual), people are calling out to you all around, it is hot, it smells bad from a combination of the people, trash, and the "fresh" fruit, and I just wasn't having it. I'm used to people staring at me because I guess mzungu's are still somewhat of a rarity but these stares in the market just felt different. Maybe it was a combination of me not feeling well and having a preconceived notion to be careful, but I certainly wouldn't have the desire to go back there. I have never had anything bad to say about Tanzania until now and it kind of makes me sad because bad experiences aren't what I hoped to get out of this trip. I wonder if I had gone on a day when I felt more like myself if I would have had the same reaction. Now I'm back at the house resting on my bed, hoping I will be able to get some sleep before dinner because I am exhausted. All in all it was an OK day but nothing to rave about. I'm still greatful for this opportunity and still inspired to do better but I just need to get my energy back before I take on any big tasks. Tomorrow mom and I, and hopefully Deb, are going to meet Luka at his center and spend the afternoon there. He is hosting dancing and drumming lessons with the children so it should be a fun yet relaxing way to end a busy week. Our time here will be half over tomorrow and it just doesn't seem possible... can I stay a few extra weeks?
Yet another long and exhausting Friday.. this time I'm the one who is sick boo-hoo. I seem to have caught a cold from the other children as I sniffle just about as much as they do. My sinuses are all congested and I haven't felt like doing anything all day. That didn't stop me from going to the orphanage this morning, even though I thought about staying home. The children were rowdier than ever and I had zero patience. I ended up actually yelling at one of the younger boys, Elisha. Not only did I surprise him but I surprised myself. I thought oh my goodness did that really just come out of MY mouth, did I scream "No" to a child who was only seeking my attention? A minute later the boy was in tears and despite the other kids saying another kid hit him I couldn't help but think I was the reason he was crying. The feeling I got over seeing him cry and thinking it was my fault made me feel even worse that I already did. Elisha is a tough child to deal with on any given day (I think he suffers from ADD) and I'm used to telling him no, but never to the extreme that I did this morning. The whole rest of the day I have been thinking about whether or not he would forgive me or even remember once Monday comes around. Hmm, maybe I should of taken the day off after all.
The day didn't get much better, I mean lunch was nice in town and we did some shopping with Deb's friend Iesha but I myself didn't feel much better. We went to Mbuyni market which is the biggest market in Moshi town but the whole time I didn't feel comfortable. I was warned before entering to hold on tight to my belongings because people in Mbuyni market are known to snatch your bags and run. Once inside the market there's constant noise (no unusual), people are calling out to you all around, it is hot, it smells bad from a combination of the people, trash, and the "fresh" fruit, and I just wasn't having it. I'm used to people staring at me because I guess mzungu's are still somewhat of a rarity but these stares in the market just felt different. Maybe it was a combination of me not feeling well and having a preconceived notion to be careful, but I certainly wouldn't have the desire to go back there. I have never had anything bad to say about Tanzania until now and it kind of makes me sad because bad experiences aren't what I hoped to get out of this trip. I wonder if I had gone on a day when I felt more like myself if I would have had the same reaction. Now I'm back at the house resting on my bed, hoping I will be able to get some sleep before dinner because I am exhausted. All in all it was an OK day but nothing to rave about. I'm still greatful for this opportunity and still inspired to do better but I just need to get my energy back before I take on any big tasks. Tomorrow mom and I, and hopefully Deb, are going to meet Luka at his center and spend the afternoon there. He is hosting dancing and drumming lessons with the children so it should be a fun yet relaxing way to end a busy week. Our time here will be half over tomorrow and it just doesn't seem possible... can I stay a few extra weeks?
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Things from home I miss
Friday June 8, 2012
Things from home I miss:
A hot shower – one that isn’t either scalding hot or cold, or just a drip of water coming from the faucet
Clean clothes washed in a washer and dried in the dryer
Access to the internet whenever I want it
A hot shower – one that isn’t either scalding hot or cold, or just a drip of water coming from the faucet
Clean clothes washed in a washer and dried in the dryer
Access to the internet whenever I want it
We have been here for two weeks and barely gotten on the
internet when others could. The
Foot2Afrika computer guru, “Dr. B2B”, told me yesterday that it is a problem
with the operating system on my new HP laptop. According to Dr. B2B, apparently
Windows 7 Home edition drops internet connections like crazy, so he told me I
needed a whole new operating system, which he installed. I hope I will not kick
myself in the butt later (sorry David!). So now that I have my laptop back, I
have tried to access the internet and I get a message telling me that “term
limits are exceeded.” The explanation I got for this message is that our
password has expired and Deb has to assign us a new one (this will be our
third), and she is not here to do that, and so I wait. Not that it matters
anyway, since we have a power outage at the moment and I could not be on the
internet anyway.
It has been a tough day for basic needs; so far today, just
since we arrived back at the house at 5PM, we have lost both water and power.
So the next time you feel frustrated at something you expect to have and don’t,
remember that here in Tanzania, that is part of normal daily living!
update: Saturday morning - power was out until after midnight last night, and this morning there is barely any water. I am SO IN NEED of a shower it isn't funny.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Making a Difference
I believe many volunteers around the world undertake these volunteer experiences hoping that we will "make a difference". I know I did, and I think Rebecca did also, but I will let her speak to that if she chooses. And it is indeed a nebulous concept. I know that I have never known what to "make a difference" would "look like". It is something I have sought since I was a teenager. I remember Mother Teresa, and looked up to her as someone I believed made a difference in the world, and I also knew I would never be another Mother Teresa-like role model. So I never followed that instinct in me to go out into the larger and unknown world and find the meaning for me of what it means to "make a difference", until now.
During my short time here, I have wondered if anything I do here will make a difference; am I providing something measurable?
I don't have an answer to this question at this time. I/we still struggle with the question of what to do at Hope Village. We really want to go there and spend time with the children helping them with their English, and we know that our time now is very limited (a very short 2 weeks). We look at the cost and weigh how much the money could benefit them, and would that make a more measurable contribution than our presence for 10 days? and what about the children we are teaching at Kilimanjaro Orphanage? Will we have contributed anything sustainable to their future? I have learned that while 4 weeks felt like a really long time when we were still back at home, it is very little time when you are here hoping to "make a difference" in the life of a child. How much English can we teach them in 4 weeks? Will anyone take our place when we leave, to continue the work we started?
And then there is the BIG question (and I wondered this even before we set foot in Tanzania): will we have done more harm than good? We develop a relationship with these amazing children who have already suffered so much, and then we leave them. What do they think? do they question why? do they wonder if THEY did something WRONG that causes people to leave them? Do they think that people abandon them because they are bad? I know from experience, and my training as a social worker, that children take the blame for things that happen to them, and internalize experiences as some how being their fault. I hate to think that "our" kids will wonder what they did that caused us to leave them. They have already lost parents, grandparents, and siblings, and their home. More questions with no answers.
On our first day at KOC we were asked if we wanted to "teach or be free". We didn't really understand the question and we certainly had no idea what being "free" meant, as we had no idea what there was to do besides teach. So we said we wanted to be free, thinking that meant we could be free to decide what we wanted to do each day. But on the second day, other volunteers showed up. We were already teaching, and they were assigned to clean the outdoor pit toilets and prepare food for lunch. If that was what it meant to be "free", we quickly decided we would teach. I questioned if that was the best use of a volunteer's time? They have 3 women there who do the cleaning and food preparation. If they have too many volunteers that they must assign some to chores, maybe volunteers should be placed elsewhere (they were later reassigned to another volunteer project, and they were not there with our NGO, Foot 2 Afrika). Hopefully the NGOs bring volunteers to the country who have a skill that can be utilized, something that when the volunteer leaves, something sustainable will be left behind. If it makes me a horrible person to say that cleaning toilets or cutting up fruit for lunch is not what I had in mind when I traveled half-way around the world, to "make a difference", then so be it, I am a horrible person, guilty as charged.
So it is difficult to know if what we do here will indeed make a difference. I know that if I return here, it will be for a longer time than one month. I am already trying to figure a way to extend, but my non-refundable air plane ticket makes that highly unlikely. But a month is a very short time when what you hope to do is influence a child's life, to prepare them for an uncertain future, to give them a basic understanding of the English language to better prepare them for Secondary school (where they will be required to learn in a language they were not taught in Primary school).
One person cannot save the world, or an entire country, and that has never been my goal, neither to save or change the people of Tanzania. That would be quite pretentious of me anyway, to think that I know better. But I do believe that, little by little, or inch by inch, the work of a few, or even of one, can have a ripple effect around the world. Perhaps if I touch one life, perhaps inspire or fuel a desire to learn, I will in fact, have "made a difference."
Asante sana.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
A mzungu who's too nice for her own good
June 6th 2012,
Karibu (welcome),
This morning we got a little bit of a late start out of the house, mainly because the last thing I wanted to do was get out of bed. But nonetheless, just the thought of seeing the kids made me excited and out the door we went, headed to catch the dala-dala from Soweto to Moshi. After each dala-dala ride I enjoy them a little bit more, mainly because I am happy I survived but also because what else can you do but laugh? Just the thought of a dala-dala ride makes me laugh because it's unlike anything I've ever experienced back home. Once in town we didn't see any of our usual "friends" aka flycatchers which was kind of sad because I thought maybe they got tired of us telling them hapana asante (no thank you). I will admit it is quite entertaining talking to these people because it makes for good conversation. I think mom gets a little more frustrated than I do with them, but I have a hard time ignoring them. In fact this afternoon one of our daily flycatchers literally sat outside the restaurant we ate at for lunch waiting for us to leave so he could try and persuade us to go to his shop. I will admit, this one guy kind of creeps me out, so I was nervous to leave the restaurant but mom kept saying "head down and don't say a word" ........ That didn't work because as soon as he saw us exit the patio he came running over and I just bursted out laughing, and mom was like "Rebecca stop laughing!!!" but I couldn't help it (as usual). But dont worry too much, he eventually gave up but I wouldn't put it past him to show up randomly again tomorrow. As for the others that we usually see in the morning, we saw them in the afternoon walking through Moshi. The one, who seems pretty attached to me, calls me his dada (sister) and recently he's been trying to get me to go to Pasua to see his own orphanage with him one day but I am very skeptical. The best part was he introduced me to his "director of the orphanage" who was with him... a man I had seen only once, today at lunch. At the time I was wondering who on Earth this person was because I didn't recognize him, which is unusual for me (even here), but he just kept waving at me like we had been best friends for years. And it wasn't until I ran into my "good friend/brother" that I recognized the man and I thought to myself "ok this is creepy, a man I've never met seems to know exactly who I am so that means you must be telling him all about me." It is very hard to tell if these people actually want to be your friend or if they are just trying to get money off of you, or worse a ticket home aka marriage. All my friends at work made a daily joke about me going to Africa and getting married, but now I'm seeing how common that is around here, and how persistent they can be when asking.
As for the time spent at the orphange, as usual it was another eye-opening experience. I feel so blessed to spend this time with these kids, but I'm sure they appreciate it even more. Yesterday one of the girls, Bright, wasn't in class. We learned that Lucy had taken her to the hospital and turns out she is HIV positive. I know thousands of children in Africa are HIV positive but for some reason when you personally know that child it makes it even harder to swallow the facts. I know she will live a difficult, uncomfortable, and short, life if she is not provided the proper medication. I'm not positive on whether the orphanage will be able to support her and her illness or not, because even though the center is supported through an Alaskan organization I'm not certain on what kind of money is available. Emmason, one of the guys who started Foot 2 Afrika with Johnson, speaks a lot about the troubles of children who are diagnosed with HIV. He says that many of the children of this generation are born with HIV and that the likelihood of them living a long life is slim to none, mainly due to the lack of money to buy the medication. And even those select few who can afford the medication, he says the kids don't want to take the medication because it makes them feel sick. It breaks my heart knowing that these children are forced to deal with either death, or a medication that makes them ill everyday. What kind of life is that? However, Bright was back in school this morning so that made me happy to see her. As usual, she had her "bright" smile across her face but I could tell she wasn't feeling well. A couple of times she started fights with the other children, making them cry, and a couple of times she cried. It's hard to see this every morning but it's a side of life that many of us will never experience or are even aware of. I hope that by writing about my experiences I can spread the knowledge and let others know that there are children out there who NEED help.
All together there seemed to be a lot of crying this morning. Maurina cried twice, once because I handed back the wrong paper to her and didn't realize, and because she doesn't speak much English I couldn't understand why she was passing it to someone else. In the end it was my mistake, and frankly a silly thing to cry over, but it just goes to show how fragile these children are. Husseni cried when he got his finger stuck between his chair and the desk behind him. Shabani, one of the older boys also cried, which I've never seen him do. For a good 10 minutes I sat next to him rubbing his back but couldn't get him to stop. Lucy came into the classroom and told him that if he didn't stop crying he wouldn't get the piece of candy he was promised earlier. Mom made the comment later on in the day that she felt Lucy is a little harsh on the kids and doesn't show much affection. I understand her point of view, but I also know that being assertive is probably the only way the children listen to her. And it's true because everytime she walks in the classroom the children go dead silent, unlike for us where it can take me five minutes to get one child to sit down and by the time they sit down there are four more running around like maniacs. Luckily, I was able to put a smile on Shabani's face when I told him it was time for porridge, which secretly meant he didn't have to sit in the classroom! haha
I was able to get a bunch of new pictures of the children, especially of Shabani, Vicenti, Juana, Bisuni and Bright. It is so nice to be able to capture these moments so friends and family can see the children that we are working with, thank goodness for technology! It doesn't hurt that these children practically beg to have their picture taken :) For anyone out there who is not friends with me on Facebook but has somehow found this blog feel free to check out the pictures, or even add me on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/#!/media/set/?set=a.4049820887536.2179070.1342404391&type=3
I'm not sure where I left on the whole discussion about Cessy and her children at Hope Village but we met with her yesterday (Monday) and had an open and honest conversation about what was best for her. We were aware that she would more than appreciate us spending time with the kids but we also discovered that it would cost us about 50,000tsh a week to go to the house in the afternoons. To us this isnt a lot of money, but it would be for Cessy. We brought up the option of us either using that money to transport back and forth everyday to be with her and five kids, or to simply give her that money to buy food, water, electricity, etc. Ultimately she couldn't decide because for her personally she would rather us be with her and the kids. She is a single 27 year old woman who has given up her entire life for these children and a lot of people dissaprove, so consequently she is lonely. But she is also aware that the children would ultimately benefit more from having the money because currently they need new uniforms for school and Cessy's rent on the house is due August 1st. Back home Deb, mom and I had a long discussion and Deb suggested that we could still give her the money, and possibly meet her in town (or somewhere less expensive than her house) and spend time with her either shopping or getting lunch. I like this idea best because I feel that between the other two options, whichever one I chose, I would feel like I wasn't doing enough. I say this because I know how valuable time is here in Africa and the kids would enjoy having us around everyday, but I also know that money is scarce here and how nice it would be to not worry about where you are going to find money for a few weeks. Tomorrow we are meeting Cessy for lunch in Uhuru Park so we can give her our decision.. I'm hoping that when we finally say it I will feel at ease, as if I'm doing her good.
On the brighter side, yesterday we met a friend of a friend I have back home in Uhuru Park for lunch. His name is Luka and he has his own orphanage center in Mgengo (?) called The Salama Center. His fiance, Gina, was also there and she is a mzungu from Boston who currently lives in Nairobi (it's cheaper to fly from there). They met when she volunteered at his center back in 2009.. little did she know she was meeting her future husband ;) They are scheduled to get married on July 21st, which is great but I was told June 21st by said friend back home. I was also told that I was invited to the wedding... but unfortunately I will be back home in NJ, most likely working .. bummer :( Anyways, Luka is a fascinating person and like all the other people I've met here, I am inspired by his dreams and aspirations. He has a VERY infectious laugh and everytime he laughed I would laugh. Mom was telling her stories of adjusting to Africa, and even though I had been there and witnessed these stories first hand, I couldnt help but laugh to the point of tears simply because he was laughing. He is such a sweet man with an enormous heart, and he accepted me as his new friend immediately. In fact, we are going to his center on Saturday when all the kids will be there and he will be hosting dancing lessons and drumming lessons. I can't wait! It's kind of funny to think that I have a real friend here in Tanzania, besides everyone at the volunteer house, who I feel so comfortable with after meeting him once. So asante sana to a special someone back home for giving me his number so I could call him and start a new friendship :)
It's getting late and I'm starting to not think straight so I think I'm going to head to bed.. I will post more tomorrow about another day full of adventure!
Usiku mwema, lala salama.
(good night, sleep well)
Karibu (welcome),
This morning we got a little bit of a late start out of the house, mainly because the last thing I wanted to do was get out of bed. But nonetheless, just the thought of seeing the kids made me excited and out the door we went, headed to catch the dala-dala from Soweto to Moshi. After each dala-dala ride I enjoy them a little bit more, mainly because I am happy I survived but also because what else can you do but laugh? Just the thought of a dala-dala ride makes me laugh because it's unlike anything I've ever experienced back home. Once in town we didn't see any of our usual "friends" aka flycatchers which was kind of sad because I thought maybe they got tired of us telling them hapana asante (no thank you). I will admit it is quite entertaining talking to these people because it makes for good conversation. I think mom gets a little more frustrated than I do with them, but I have a hard time ignoring them. In fact this afternoon one of our daily flycatchers literally sat outside the restaurant we ate at for lunch waiting for us to leave so he could try and persuade us to go to his shop. I will admit, this one guy kind of creeps me out, so I was nervous to leave the restaurant but mom kept saying "head down and don't say a word" ........ That didn't work because as soon as he saw us exit the patio he came running over and I just bursted out laughing, and mom was like "Rebecca stop laughing!!!" but I couldn't help it (as usual). But dont worry too much, he eventually gave up but I wouldn't put it past him to show up randomly again tomorrow. As for the others that we usually see in the morning, we saw them in the afternoon walking through Moshi. The one, who seems pretty attached to me, calls me his dada (sister) and recently he's been trying to get me to go to Pasua to see his own orphanage with him one day but I am very skeptical. The best part was he introduced me to his "director of the orphanage" who was with him... a man I had seen only once, today at lunch. At the time I was wondering who on Earth this person was because I didn't recognize him, which is unusual for me (even here), but he just kept waving at me like we had been best friends for years. And it wasn't until I ran into my "good friend/brother" that I recognized the man and I thought to myself "ok this is creepy, a man I've never met seems to know exactly who I am so that means you must be telling him all about me." It is very hard to tell if these people actually want to be your friend or if they are just trying to get money off of you, or worse a ticket home aka marriage. All my friends at work made a daily joke about me going to Africa and getting married, but now I'm seeing how common that is around here, and how persistent they can be when asking.
As for the time spent at the orphange, as usual it was another eye-opening experience. I feel so blessed to spend this time with these kids, but I'm sure they appreciate it even more. Yesterday one of the girls, Bright, wasn't in class. We learned that Lucy had taken her to the hospital and turns out she is HIV positive. I know thousands of children in Africa are HIV positive but for some reason when you personally know that child it makes it even harder to swallow the facts. I know she will live a difficult, uncomfortable, and short, life if she is not provided the proper medication. I'm not positive on whether the orphanage will be able to support her and her illness or not, because even though the center is supported through an Alaskan organization I'm not certain on what kind of money is available. Emmason, one of the guys who started Foot 2 Afrika with Johnson, speaks a lot about the troubles of children who are diagnosed with HIV. He says that many of the children of this generation are born with HIV and that the likelihood of them living a long life is slim to none, mainly due to the lack of money to buy the medication. And even those select few who can afford the medication, he says the kids don't want to take the medication because it makes them feel sick. It breaks my heart knowing that these children are forced to deal with either death, or a medication that makes them ill everyday. What kind of life is that? However, Bright was back in school this morning so that made me happy to see her. As usual, she had her "bright" smile across her face but I could tell she wasn't feeling well. A couple of times she started fights with the other children, making them cry, and a couple of times she cried. It's hard to see this every morning but it's a side of life that many of us will never experience or are even aware of. I hope that by writing about my experiences I can spread the knowledge and let others know that there are children out there who NEED help.
All together there seemed to be a lot of crying this morning. Maurina cried twice, once because I handed back the wrong paper to her and didn't realize, and because she doesn't speak much English I couldn't understand why she was passing it to someone else. In the end it was my mistake, and frankly a silly thing to cry over, but it just goes to show how fragile these children are. Husseni cried when he got his finger stuck between his chair and the desk behind him. Shabani, one of the older boys also cried, which I've never seen him do. For a good 10 minutes I sat next to him rubbing his back but couldn't get him to stop. Lucy came into the classroom and told him that if he didn't stop crying he wouldn't get the piece of candy he was promised earlier. Mom made the comment later on in the day that she felt Lucy is a little harsh on the kids and doesn't show much affection. I understand her point of view, but I also know that being assertive is probably the only way the children listen to her. And it's true because everytime she walks in the classroom the children go dead silent, unlike for us where it can take me five minutes to get one child to sit down and by the time they sit down there are four more running around like maniacs. Luckily, I was able to put a smile on Shabani's face when I told him it was time for porridge, which secretly meant he didn't have to sit in the classroom! haha
I was able to get a bunch of new pictures of the children, especially of Shabani, Vicenti, Juana, Bisuni and Bright. It is so nice to be able to capture these moments so friends and family can see the children that we are working with, thank goodness for technology! It doesn't hurt that these children practically beg to have their picture taken :) For anyone out there who is not friends with me on Facebook but has somehow found this blog feel free to check out the pictures, or even add me on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/#!/media/set/?set=a.4049820887536.2179070.1342404391&type=3
I'm not sure where I left on the whole discussion about Cessy and her children at Hope Village but we met with her yesterday (Monday) and had an open and honest conversation about what was best for her. We were aware that she would more than appreciate us spending time with the kids but we also discovered that it would cost us about 50,000tsh a week to go to the house in the afternoons. To us this isnt a lot of money, but it would be for Cessy. We brought up the option of us either using that money to transport back and forth everyday to be with her and five kids, or to simply give her that money to buy food, water, electricity, etc. Ultimately she couldn't decide because for her personally she would rather us be with her and the kids. She is a single 27 year old woman who has given up her entire life for these children and a lot of people dissaprove, so consequently she is lonely. But she is also aware that the children would ultimately benefit more from having the money because currently they need new uniforms for school and Cessy's rent on the house is due August 1st. Back home Deb, mom and I had a long discussion and Deb suggested that we could still give her the money, and possibly meet her in town (or somewhere less expensive than her house) and spend time with her either shopping or getting lunch. I like this idea best because I feel that between the other two options, whichever one I chose, I would feel like I wasn't doing enough. I say this because I know how valuable time is here in Africa and the kids would enjoy having us around everyday, but I also know that money is scarce here and how nice it would be to not worry about where you are going to find money for a few weeks. Tomorrow we are meeting Cessy for lunch in Uhuru Park so we can give her our decision.. I'm hoping that when we finally say it I will feel at ease, as if I'm doing her good.
On the brighter side, yesterday we met a friend of a friend I have back home in Uhuru Park for lunch. His name is Luka and he has his own orphanage center in Mgengo (?) called The Salama Center. His fiance, Gina, was also there and she is a mzungu from Boston who currently lives in Nairobi (it's cheaper to fly from there). They met when she volunteered at his center back in 2009.. little did she know she was meeting her future husband ;) They are scheduled to get married on July 21st, which is great but I was told June 21st by said friend back home. I was also told that I was invited to the wedding... but unfortunately I will be back home in NJ, most likely working .. bummer :( Anyways, Luka is a fascinating person and like all the other people I've met here, I am inspired by his dreams and aspirations. He has a VERY infectious laugh and everytime he laughed I would laugh. Mom was telling her stories of adjusting to Africa, and even though I had been there and witnessed these stories first hand, I couldnt help but laugh to the point of tears simply because he was laughing. He is such a sweet man with an enormous heart, and he accepted me as his new friend immediately. In fact, we are going to his center on Saturday when all the kids will be there and he will be hosting dancing lessons and drumming lessons. I can't wait! It's kind of funny to think that I have a real friend here in Tanzania, besides everyone at the volunteer house, who I feel so comfortable with after meeting him once. So asante sana to a special someone back home for giving me his number so I could call him and start a new friendship :)
It's getting late and I'm starting to not think straight so I think I'm going to head to bed.. I will post more tomorrow about another day full of adventure!
Usiku mwema, lala salama.
(good night, sleep well)
Choices, and the really hard decisions
Monday, June 4, 2012
Each day we are finished at our primary placement, the Kilimanjaro
Orphanage Center, at about 12:30 - 1 PM. After that time, the young children we
teach eat lunch and take a long nap. The place stays pretty quiet from then
until the older children get out of school. So we have been looking for a
second orphanage that we can go to for the afternoons. Over the weekend we
visited a center for street children called Msamaria, and we also met
CeCe from Hope Village.
I think Rebecca wrote about CeCe and the children at Hope Village,
but to refresh your memory, CeCe is the "mama" at Hope Village, which
is home to 5 orphaned/abandoned children. She is 27 years old and dedicates her
life to taking care of these children. She has a very nice house in a suburb of
Moshi (Shanty Town) but it has no electricity. She has no money for food,
school fees for the children, or to install electricity from the road to the
house, or anything else. She teaches the women from Rudisha how to bead, sew,
and make jewelry, so that they can sell the products to make money for their
center (the Rudisha women's center is home to women who are HIV positive). So
CeCe makes a very small amount of money each month, which goes towards supplies
at Hope Village. There is NEVER enough money.
CORRECTION: CeCee teaches the women at Rudisha business skills and marketing. These women are not HIV+ (I confused them with another group if women). They sew bags and kangas, and make jewelry. CeCee's role is to assist them in learning how to run their business and make a profit so they can become self-sustaining, and also to help them market their goods both locally and internationally. For this, CeCee is paid a small wage, which she uses to support Hope Village.)
CORRECTION: CeCee teaches the women at Rudisha business skills and marketing. These women are not HIV+ (I confused them with another group if women). They sew bags and kangas, and make jewelry. CeCee's role is to assist them in learning how to run their business and make a profit so they can become self-sustaining, and also to help them market their goods both locally and internationally. For this, CeCee is paid a small wage, which she uses to support Hope Village.)
In looking to volunteer at Hope Village, we have to look at how
much it will cost for us to travel out there every afternoon. It is a very long
walk, and time is short from when we leave Pasua to get Hope Village, and then
be back at the volunteer house by dark (6:30). It almost certainly means taking
the dala dala from Pasua to Moshi (600 TSH for both of us, about 55 cents),
then a taxi from Moshi town to Hope Village and a second taxi from Hope Village
to the volunteer house, at a total cost of about 10,000 TSH, or about $6.50 per
day. That comes to about $35 a week for transportation to help out CeCe at Hope
Village. So we talked with Deb at length over the weekend about how the money
could best be spent. Does CeCe need us there to help her and the children in
the afternoons, or could she use the 50,000 TSH per week we would spend on taxi
fare? These are valid questions when the PURPOSE of volunteering is to help the
children! Is having a (small) part of the money to run electric from the street
to the house, or money for food or uniforms or rent more important than what we
could offer the children in terms of teaching English, or helping with
homework? The thing we have found is, there is no easy answer. So Deb advised
that we ask CeCe what she needs more, and so today, we made a second trip to
Hope Village.
CeCe is an amazing woman: you know just being in her presence that
she is an angel sent to care for these children, and she takes all the
challenges in stride. The home is named Hope Village because what she offers
these children is...Hope, when they had none before. What they have with her is
a home and a family, a mama and "brothers" (ka ka) and
"sisters" (da da). And of course, hope. So we put the question to
her, and after all our tears dried, she could not answer. The choice was too
hard. She told us that she is lonely; being a single woman taking care of these
5 children. She has taken "stray" children under her wing since she
was 16 years old, giving to the children in need half of whatever she had, be
it food or money. She was always asking her parents to help out other children,
when she herself came from a family of 5 children (she is the oldest). She said
she feels a connection to us, and likes having our company at her home, but she
knows how much they need money for: 1) rent, 2) electricity, 3) food, and 4)
uniforms for the 5 children so they can stay in school (the school has
threatened to not allow the children to come to school if they do not have the
proper uniform). She knows that our presence in the home and our time
spent with the children would help them immeasurably (more on the failed
educational system in another post). In the end, she could not choose, and left
the choice to us. We left telling her that we would think about it, talk about
it with Deb, and call her. I left there with a heavy heart, but one filled with
love and admiration.
Upon returning to the house, we ran into Deb and we told her the
story and our dilemma. Initially it was our plan to try to raise money when we
return home to pay to have the electric run to the house. But if she needs
money for rent, what good does electric do if you have no roof over your head?
And you would think that if she had the electric run to the house that the
landlord would credit her the amount (or at least part of it) for making
improvements to the property, but that is not how things work in Tanzania.
After all, TIA! (This Is Africa!).
Now the choices have become even more complicated for us. Give her
the money we would spend on taxi fare and let her use it as she needs? Teach
the children English, and help them with their homework? And what about the
money we hoped to raise for the electric? Should the rent come first? There are
SO MANY competing needs, and no answers.
So tonight we head off to bed with choices and decisions floating
in our heads. Our goal here is to help the children, but what exactly does that
look like? There are no answers, only more questions, and they weigh heavy on
our hearts.
Lala salama (Good Night).
Kathy & Rebecca
Monday, June 4, 2012
The View From the Other Side
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Kathy here, posting for the first time since we arrived in Tanzania. Between the busy days, long walks, fatigue, frequent downtime on the internet, and power outages, there has not been much opportunity to write. So I am going to do a bit of catching up here and maybe give a slightly different perspective than the one Rebecca has presented, just to give the “view from the other side”.
Of course, Sunday we arrived late, got a tour of the compound, and went to bed. Monday we headed off to Moshi for the first time, and I have to admit I was not at all prepared for that experience. We walked the 45 minutes to town, on “roads” and “sidewalks” that were barely passable on foot. Every step I took I had to look down at where I was placing my foot, the terrain is that uneven. Many “roads” are really just dirt paths worn into the ground by passing vehicles, sometimes two lanes, and sometimes not, but still meant for two lanes of vehicles. All manner of “vehicle” has the right of way over pedestrians, including bicycles and men pushing carts laden down with supplies of all kinds. Intersections are not controlled by traffic lights (I have yet to see one) so crossing an intersection requires looking each way a dozen times and then running, hoping nothing will hit you. No one will stop, or even slow down for a pedestrian. So by the time we arrived in the center of Moshi, I was exhausted, not so much physically (although I am not used to that much walking at one clip) but mentally. All my senses had to be on high alert at one time, with new sights, sounds, smells, and an ever-present awareness of all that was happening around us. Rebecca wrote about the man who “followed” us into town, and I have to admit to being afraid he was going to try to grab my purse and run. But usually those that follow you are hoping to start a conversation and then get you to buy something, either from what they are carrying with them, or by taking you to a shop where they have arranged a commission-type arrangement with the shop owner (they are they flycatchers).
The center of Moshi (Moshi town) is lined with small shops and vendors lining the sidewalks, all of them selling all manner of products, some new, some used, some local goods, some foreign, lots of vegetables and fruit, all from baskets or carts overflowing into the “sidewalks”. The sidewalks are narrow paths of (usually) uneven concrete slabs. The flycatchers (always men) stroll the sidewalks, linger at intersections and in front of stores, calling out “mambo” or “jambo”, hoping you will stop or make eye contact, any slight indication that they might have a second or two to try to sell you something. I found it scary, and overwhelming. I am a person who likes to smile at people and make eye contact, but here that is an invitation to be stalked and hounded. Men will also just ask for money, with a story about being sick or having a sick friend. When you see the level of absolute poverty that exists here, it is not hard to believe they are indeed starving or sick, but if you give to one person, you will have others lining up.
The streets and buildings of Moshi town are old, rundown, and dirty. Nothing is new. There is no infrastructure to support growth or even to maintain what exists. Trash is burned along the roadways, in yards, wherever there is space. There are a couple of western-style establishments (mostly coffee houses) that are frequented by westerners, and they have running water and flush toilets, so there is a water and sewer system in some areas, but certainly many places have no running water or sewer, or electricity. Along the walk to Moshi town we pass by houses that are cardboard shacks or mud huts, with no electricity or running water. The depth and breadth of the poverty that exists here is something most of us foreigners cannot begin to fathom.
After lunch and taking care of some business, we headed out for the orphange in Pasua, and we had our first experience on a dala dala. Rebecca described the way they shove 25-30 people into a minivan that might have seats for 8 people, along with their various bundles and baskets full of produce from the market. But you also have to picture an ancient (looking) minivan, rusted out, falling apart, seats torn, windshield broken and held together with tape, barely running, then shove 25 hot, sweaty bodies into it, bumping along dirt roads full of ruts and boulders, at least half of the passengers standing all hunched over, and that is a dala dala ride. And don’t forget to add the baskets of produce and the odd chicken. For my first dala dala ride, I got to be one of the standing passengers, leaning over the seat to my side, clutching an exposed rod in the roof of the van, feet firmly planted on the floor, hips and knees locked in position, holding on for dear life! I was TERRIFIED on that ride! One bump and I would be in someone’s lap or take down 6 other standing passengers. And just when you think not one more body will fit, they stop to let on 2 more people and 5 baskets of produce. Whoever has a lap or a free hand holds the baskets or bags of produce. And then it comes time to let people out, and people literally climb over each other to get to the door. Occasionally people will step out to let others get out, but often they just jostle around, rearranging body parts to let people through. Along the ride somewhere (I think after the stop right before where you are getting off) the kid who collects the fare starts signaling to pay the money. Most of the time I keep my money in the button pocket of my cargo pants, which is down by my knees, so getting to it is nearly impossible while moving. Thankfully, they are patient. Of course they announce the stop in Swahili, so you just have to hope they will signal to you that it is your stop, or you eventually get to the point where you recognize your location, and you know to get off (that is, of course, assuming you can see out the window, which is not usually the case). There is nothing in the US with which to compare a dala dala ride.
Conditions at the orphanage are shocking, but the children and staff are welcoming and friendly. The director, Lucy, greets us with open arms, and the children all want to be hugged or hold our hands. But the place is run down, the children dirty, everything is falling apart. They have a rain cistern for collecting rain water during the rainy season, and outdoor pit toilets. They do have electricity though, which is a big deal. To save on the cost of gas, they cook over a wood fire. The faucet for hand washing, or washing dishes, is outside in the central courtyard. I am still uncertain if there is a shower area; it might be under the water cistern, but there is certainly no wash room or indoor bathroom with running water. I do not think there is a refrigerator for keeping food cold. Oftentimes the “store room” is a small, dark room with a dirt or concrete slab floor that stays cool and produce is placed on the floor or ground. My overall impression is that the children are starved for attention and interaction, adorable, lovable, and living a life we cannot imagine. There is a story to each one of them, which we do not yet know, and may never, because Lucy speaks little English, and we speak almost no Swahili.
Since Rebecca has written about our first day at the orphanage, I will not recap that. On Wednesday, we headed out for the usual trek to Pasua, and I walked about ten minutes and knew I would never make it the rest of the way. We turned around and went back to the house, where I rested for the entire day. I know now that I was dehydrated from all the sweating (it is cool here for them, but I have been hot most of the time) and while I had been drinking a lot of water, it was not enough. I was overheated, dizzy and light headed. So I stayed on the couch all day, and drank 3 liters of water!
In retrospect, I think I also needed some “down time”. We had not stopped since we arrived, and I was feeling a tad overwhelmed. The first two nights here, I went to bed seriously thinking that I would not survive the harsh reality of life here in Tanzania. While lying in bed those first two nights, I actually had to wonder what it would cost to book a return flight home, and then not get back any of the money I had invested thus far. I wondered if Rebecca would stay if I left. I wondered if Deb would let me help out around the house, so I could stay the rest of the time, not miss out on safari, and not lose all my money. Wednesday turned out to be my “assimilation” time, a time for assessing whether or not I could really handle the life style, culture shock, language barriers, all the walking and sweating, lack of a good shower, change in diet, always being dirty, dusty and sweaty, and those god-awful dala dala rides. I didn’t know this on Wednesday, but figured it out only later. By Thursday morning, I was reenergized and ready to meet the challenges ahead of me. By Thursday evening I was bemoaning the fact that we already had been here almost a week and time was flying by too quickly.
All of what Rebecca has written about is true for me also, but I also wanted to acknowledge the “other side” of my experience. The children tug at my heartstrings, the people, the culture draws me in and I want to learn more and experience life here fully, and at the same time, the enormity of the poverty and the level of need leaves me feeling overwhelmed. Life here is hard and there is no getting around that, other than to keep pushing through.
Deb and I have had many long conversations about how best to assist an entire country without creating a welfare society that depends on volunteers for their very survival. What would they do if all the NGOs and volunteers went home? What would happen if the donors and sponsors stopped giving? The educational system here is abysmal, and even the government schools cost parents money, money that many of them do not have. We are talking about $100 a year to send child to a government run primary school. For us, that is nothing, for them it could be 1/3 of their annual income! It is a conversation for another blog post.
For now, it is time for bed. It is 10 PM and I should have been in bed an hour ago. We have an early morning call every Monday through Friday, and miles and miles of walking ahead of us. Tomorrow we are buying bananas for the orphanage, and some for the group of children we meet every day on our walk from the dala dala stop to the orphanage. We need to buy them before we get on the dala dala, as there is no place after the stop to buy them. It will be comical to be among the group of women climbing onto the dala dala with our bundles of produce I wish we could capture a photo for you, but that is doubtful.
For now, good night…….lala salama.
Asante sana!
Kathy here, posting for the first time since we arrived in Tanzania. Between the busy days, long walks, fatigue, frequent downtime on the internet, and power outages, there has not been much opportunity to write. So I am going to do a bit of catching up here and maybe give a slightly different perspective than the one Rebecca has presented, just to give the “view from the other side”.
Of course, Sunday we arrived late, got a tour of the compound, and went to bed. Monday we headed off to Moshi for the first time, and I have to admit I was not at all prepared for that experience. We walked the 45 minutes to town, on “roads” and “sidewalks” that were barely passable on foot. Every step I took I had to look down at where I was placing my foot, the terrain is that uneven. Many “roads” are really just dirt paths worn into the ground by passing vehicles, sometimes two lanes, and sometimes not, but still meant for two lanes of vehicles. All manner of “vehicle” has the right of way over pedestrians, including bicycles and men pushing carts laden down with supplies of all kinds. Intersections are not controlled by traffic lights (I have yet to see one) so crossing an intersection requires looking each way a dozen times and then running, hoping nothing will hit you. No one will stop, or even slow down for a pedestrian. So by the time we arrived in the center of Moshi, I was exhausted, not so much physically (although I am not used to that much walking at one clip) but mentally. All my senses had to be on high alert at one time, with new sights, sounds, smells, and an ever-present awareness of all that was happening around us. Rebecca wrote about the man who “followed” us into town, and I have to admit to being afraid he was going to try to grab my purse and run. But usually those that follow you are hoping to start a conversation and then get you to buy something, either from what they are carrying with them, or by taking you to a shop where they have arranged a commission-type arrangement with the shop owner (they are they flycatchers).
The center of Moshi (Moshi town) is lined with small shops and vendors lining the sidewalks, all of them selling all manner of products, some new, some used, some local goods, some foreign, lots of vegetables and fruit, all from baskets or carts overflowing into the “sidewalks”. The sidewalks are narrow paths of (usually) uneven concrete slabs. The flycatchers (always men) stroll the sidewalks, linger at intersections and in front of stores, calling out “mambo” or “jambo”, hoping you will stop or make eye contact, any slight indication that they might have a second or two to try to sell you something. I found it scary, and overwhelming. I am a person who likes to smile at people and make eye contact, but here that is an invitation to be stalked and hounded. Men will also just ask for money, with a story about being sick or having a sick friend. When you see the level of absolute poverty that exists here, it is not hard to believe they are indeed starving or sick, but if you give to one person, you will have others lining up.
The streets and buildings of Moshi town are old, rundown, and dirty. Nothing is new. There is no infrastructure to support growth or even to maintain what exists. Trash is burned along the roadways, in yards, wherever there is space. There are a couple of western-style establishments (mostly coffee houses) that are frequented by westerners, and they have running water and flush toilets, so there is a water and sewer system in some areas, but certainly many places have no running water or sewer, or electricity. Along the walk to Moshi town we pass by houses that are cardboard shacks or mud huts, with no electricity or running water. The depth and breadth of the poverty that exists here is something most of us foreigners cannot begin to fathom.
After lunch and taking care of some business, we headed out for the orphange in Pasua, and we had our first experience on a dala dala. Rebecca described the way they shove 25-30 people into a minivan that might have seats for 8 people, along with their various bundles and baskets full of produce from the market. But you also have to picture an ancient (looking) minivan, rusted out, falling apart, seats torn, windshield broken and held together with tape, barely running, then shove 25 hot, sweaty bodies into it, bumping along dirt roads full of ruts and boulders, at least half of the passengers standing all hunched over, and that is a dala dala ride. And don’t forget to add the baskets of produce and the odd chicken. For my first dala dala ride, I got to be one of the standing passengers, leaning over the seat to my side, clutching an exposed rod in the roof of the van, feet firmly planted on the floor, hips and knees locked in position, holding on for dear life! I was TERRIFIED on that ride! One bump and I would be in someone’s lap or take down 6 other standing passengers. And just when you think not one more body will fit, they stop to let on 2 more people and 5 baskets of produce. Whoever has a lap or a free hand holds the baskets or bags of produce. And then it comes time to let people out, and people literally climb over each other to get to the door. Occasionally people will step out to let others get out, but often they just jostle around, rearranging body parts to let people through. Along the ride somewhere (I think after the stop right before where you are getting off) the kid who collects the fare starts signaling to pay the money. Most of the time I keep my money in the button pocket of my cargo pants, which is down by my knees, so getting to it is nearly impossible while moving. Thankfully, they are patient. Of course they announce the stop in Swahili, so you just have to hope they will signal to you that it is your stop, or you eventually get to the point where you recognize your location, and you know to get off (that is, of course, assuming you can see out the window, which is not usually the case). There is nothing in the US with which to compare a dala dala ride.
Conditions at the orphanage are shocking, but the children and staff are welcoming and friendly. The director, Lucy, greets us with open arms, and the children all want to be hugged or hold our hands. But the place is run down, the children dirty, everything is falling apart. They have a rain cistern for collecting rain water during the rainy season, and outdoor pit toilets. They do have electricity though, which is a big deal. To save on the cost of gas, they cook over a wood fire. The faucet for hand washing, or washing dishes, is outside in the central courtyard. I am still uncertain if there is a shower area; it might be under the water cistern, but there is certainly no wash room or indoor bathroom with running water. I do not think there is a refrigerator for keeping food cold. Oftentimes the “store room” is a small, dark room with a dirt or concrete slab floor that stays cool and produce is placed on the floor or ground. My overall impression is that the children are starved for attention and interaction, adorable, lovable, and living a life we cannot imagine. There is a story to each one of them, which we do not yet know, and may never, because Lucy speaks little English, and we speak almost no Swahili.
Since Rebecca has written about our first day at the orphanage, I will not recap that. On Wednesday, we headed out for the usual trek to Pasua, and I walked about ten minutes and knew I would never make it the rest of the way. We turned around and went back to the house, where I rested for the entire day. I know now that I was dehydrated from all the sweating (it is cool here for them, but I have been hot most of the time) and while I had been drinking a lot of water, it was not enough. I was overheated, dizzy and light headed. So I stayed on the couch all day, and drank 3 liters of water!
In retrospect, I think I also needed some “down time”. We had not stopped since we arrived, and I was feeling a tad overwhelmed. The first two nights here, I went to bed seriously thinking that I would not survive the harsh reality of life here in Tanzania. While lying in bed those first two nights, I actually had to wonder what it would cost to book a return flight home, and then not get back any of the money I had invested thus far. I wondered if Rebecca would stay if I left. I wondered if Deb would let me help out around the house, so I could stay the rest of the time, not miss out on safari, and not lose all my money. Wednesday turned out to be my “assimilation” time, a time for assessing whether or not I could really handle the life style, culture shock, language barriers, all the walking and sweating, lack of a good shower, change in diet, always being dirty, dusty and sweaty, and those god-awful dala dala rides. I didn’t know this on Wednesday, but figured it out only later. By Thursday morning, I was reenergized and ready to meet the challenges ahead of me. By Thursday evening I was bemoaning the fact that we already had been here almost a week and time was flying by too quickly.
All of what Rebecca has written about is true for me also, but I also wanted to acknowledge the “other side” of my experience. The children tug at my heartstrings, the people, the culture draws me in and I want to learn more and experience life here fully, and at the same time, the enormity of the poverty and the level of need leaves me feeling overwhelmed. Life here is hard and there is no getting around that, other than to keep pushing through.
Deb and I have had many long conversations about how best to assist an entire country without creating a welfare society that depends on volunteers for their very survival. What would they do if all the NGOs and volunteers went home? What would happen if the donors and sponsors stopped giving? The educational system here is abysmal, and even the government schools cost parents money, money that many of them do not have. We are talking about $100 a year to send child to a government run primary school. For us, that is nothing, for them it could be 1/3 of their annual income! It is a conversation for another blog post.
For now, it is time for bed. It is 10 PM and I should have been in bed an hour ago. We have an early morning call every Monday through Friday, and miles and miles of walking ahead of us. Tomorrow we are buying bananas for the orphanage, and some for the group of children we meet every day on our walk from the dala dala stop to the orphanage. We need to buy them before we get on the dala dala, as there is no place after the stop to buy them. It will be comical to be among the group of women climbing onto the dala dala with our bundles of produce I wish we could capture a photo for you, but that is doubtful.
For now, good night…….lala salama.
Asante sana!
Saturday, June 2, 2012
One step at a time
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Jambo! Tomorrow we will have been here a week- unreal!!! It's amazing how FAST the time is going by and I'm starting to think four weeks isn't long enough. I never want to come home, I wish all my friends and family and my puppy could move here and then I'd be 100% satisfied. Wishful thinking...
This morning I got to sleep in.. a little bit... 7:30 as opposed to 6:45! Usually on the weekends breakfast is served from 8-10 while during the week it is served from 7-9. But this morning a big group of about 20 people were leaving Foot 2 Afrika to go on safari and then go home! They were a soccer group from Ireland who were here for two weeks teaching/coaching football (soccer) to the locals.
Much of this afternoon was spent in Moshi shopping and eating with Deb.. First we stopped at I-Curio where I spent 80,000tsh on two pairs of really soft African style pants, a shirt that says "Elephants are the only ones who should wear ivory", a shirt that is very African themed, and two more pieces of jewelry! Then we stopped at a couple of fabric stores so mom could buy fabric to make her own khonga's (skirts) and some pants. Then we stopped at a restaurant called Indoitaliano and it's exactly what it sounds like.. there is one menu with Indian food, and one menu with Italian food. I, of course, chose from the Italian menu where I ordered a mini margarita pizza. I got a kick out of the fact that I can order Italian food in Tanzania... although it's nice because I'm still a little skeptical about eating true African food. Speaking of getting a kick out of things... this morning I was taking a shower and as the Irish group was packing their stuff into the Safari trucks they were blasting DJ Pauly D (one of the horrendous and obnoxious characters from the Jersey Shore TV Show). To be honest I was enjoying the first few seconds of the beat until I hear "yo yo yo this is DJ Pauly D in the house" and I thought to myself "OH MY GOODNESS this is so wrong on so many levels I should not be hearing him all the way in Tanzania!!" Then I began to wonder how on Earth he is so popular in Ireland, or anywhere for that matter... like there are thousands of helpless people who DESERVE and NEED the kind of attention he gets and instead we put all this focus on a person who can't rap or make music to save his life. Can you tell how angry this makes me? Ugh.... For the most part the music in Africa is beautiful, I love the rhythm and it always boosts my spirit. There are a few times where I recognize some of the songs the local shops are playing, like Usher or Mariah Carey, but I just think it's funny.
So anyways, after we had lunch we continued our shopping in hopes of finding index cards so I can make flashcards to practice my swahili. I've done an OK job at remembering some words but would love to learn more. For instance I know how to start a conversation
Rebecca: Mambo (Standard greeting)
Mom: Poa (cool)
Rebecca: Habari (how are things?)
Mom: Safi (safe/peaceful) or Nzuri (good) **I've never heard someone say bad**
There are some variations such as when mom says poa, she can also say poa vipi, which would eliminate me saying habari and instead I would just say safi or nzuri. What I've discovered is that after I've gone through this whole greeting process many locals then think I know more swahili.. and I really don't. Other words I know are usiku mwema (goodnight), lala selama (sleep well), dada (sister), caca (brother), ndiyo (yes), hapana (no), tafadhali (please), samahani (excuse me), asante (thank you), asante sana (thank you very much), karibu (welcome/you're welcome), karibu sana (you're very welcome), maji (water), mbili (two), jano lako nani (what is your name), pole (I'm sorry), pole sana (I'm very sorry), pole pole (slowly), and probably more that I just can't think of at 10:30 at night...
Back to the index cards, we couldn't find any so we settled on little itty-bitty notebooks where I will just have to make my own flashcards. Oh well, this is Africa (TIA). After that adventure we stopped for some coffee (my first coffee in a week) and a crepe at the Kilimanjaro Union Coffee House. This required going to a different part of Moshi I wasn't used to but all the same, I loved it! We got to walk down Market Street where a lot of stands are selling anything from sunglasses to socks and shoes and everything in between. Then we made our way to Nakumat, a Kenyan based supermarket. Let me tell you.. this thing is MUCH fancier than any supermarket or grocery store I have ever been in. This thing was two stories with very modern check out lines- it was awesome! After spending about 20 minutes here we made our trip back to the house because it was getting dark. This time we got to take a different route which was nice because we got to see some new scenery and some different faces. I swear I see the same faces every day and have actually made acquaintances with this one guy. Of course he's only trying to get me to buy some of his artwork made out of dried up banana peels but every afternoon I run into him on Chogga Street. He calls me dada which means sister in swahili :) So, if ANYONE is interested in a banana peel piece of artwork let me know because I'm sure it would make him more than happy!!
Tonight at the volunteer house its been fairly quiet with the big group of Irish students gone. Because they were such a big group, two of our chefs went on the safari with them (Msafiri and Leemo). Msafiri is probably my favorite staff member here because he genuinely is so sweet. Everytime he sees me he asks me how I'm doing and he also calls me his dada (sister). Plus he speaks good English so he's more than happy to speak to me in English :) So anyway, we only had Sarafina and Godye (not sure on the spelling but it's pronounced Go-dee) to cook us dinner tonight but it was still delicious! Godye is also the one that offers us different beverages and I learned today his nickname is Pamella (after a bar nearby the house called Pamella Bar). After dinner we experienced our second power outage, which I hear is rare to happen two nights in a row but whatever, we brought flashlights!!
One other thing I accomplished in the dark tonight, besides this blog, is I got in contact with a friend of a friend back home. His name is Luka (short for Lukanga) and we are meeting in Uhuru Park on monday afternoon for lunch! It is kind of cool to know someone back home who knows this person, and now I have the chance to meet him! I hear he is a wonderful down to earth man and based on his text messages he seems like a sweetheart. I've never even met this man and I already feel so welcome and he tells me he can't wait to meet! I am very excited -- he is the one whose wedding I have been invited to so I hope I get some more details about that as well as a chance to see his school/orphanage he has, called The Salama Center. So asante sana (thank you very much) to Cesar for giving me Luka's phone number and telling him about me.. now I have another friend in Tanzania!
Usiku mwema for now!! xoxo
Jambo! Tomorrow we will have been here a week- unreal!!! It's amazing how FAST the time is going by and I'm starting to think four weeks isn't long enough. I never want to come home, I wish all my friends and family and my puppy could move here and then I'd be 100% satisfied. Wishful thinking...
This morning I got to sleep in.. a little bit... 7:30 as opposed to 6:45! Usually on the weekends breakfast is served from 8-10 while during the week it is served from 7-9. But this morning a big group of about 20 people were leaving Foot 2 Afrika to go on safari and then go home! They were a soccer group from Ireland who were here for two weeks teaching/coaching football (soccer) to the locals.
Much of this afternoon was spent in Moshi shopping and eating with Deb.. First we stopped at I-Curio where I spent 80,000tsh on two pairs of really soft African style pants, a shirt that says "Elephants are the only ones who should wear ivory", a shirt that is very African themed, and two more pieces of jewelry! Then we stopped at a couple of fabric stores so mom could buy fabric to make her own khonga's (skirts) and some pants. Then we stopped at a restaurant called Indoitaliano and it's exactly what it sounds like.. there is one menu with Indian food, and one menu with Italian food. I, of course, chose from the Italian menu where I ordered a mini margarita pizza. I got a kick out of the fact that I can order Italian food in Tanzania... although it's nice because I'm still a little skeptical about eating true African food. Speaking of getting a kick out of things... this morning I was taking a shower and as the Irish group was packing their stuff into the Safari trucks they were blasting DJ Pauly D (one of the horrendous and obnoxious characters from the Jersey Shore TV Show). To be honest I was enjoying the first few seconds of the beat until I hear "yo yo yo this is DJ Pauly D in the house" and I thought to myself "OH MY GOODNESS this is so wrong on so many levels I should not be hearing him all the way in Tanzania!!" Then I began to wonder how on Earth he is so popular in Ireland, or anywhere for that matter... like there are thousands of helpless people who DESERVE and NEED the kind of attention he gets and instead we put all this focus on a person who can't rap or make music to save his life. Can you tell how angry this makes me? Ugh.... For the most part the music in Africa is beautiful, I love the rhythm and it always boosts my spirit. There are a few times where I recognize some of the songs the local shops are playing, like Usher or Mariah Carey, but I just think it's funny.
So anyways, after we had lunch we continued our shopping in hopes of finding index cards so I can make flashcards to practice my swahili. I've done an OK job at remembering some words but would love to learn more. For instance I know how to start a conversation
Rebecca: Mambo (Standard greeting)
Mom: Poa (cool)
Rebecca: Habari (how are things?)
Mom: Safi (safe/peaceful) or Nzuri (good) **I've never heard someone say bad**
There are some variations such as when mom says poa, she can also say poa vipi, which would eliminate me saying habari and instead I would just say safi or nzuri. What I've discovered is that after I've gone through this whole greeting process many locals then think I know more swahili.. and I really don't. Other words I know are usiku mwema (goodnight), lala selama (sleep well), dada (sister), caca (brother), ndiyo (yes), hapana (no), tafadhali (please), samahani (excuse me), asante (thank you), asante sana (thank you very much), karibu (welcome/you're welcome), karibu sana (you're very welcome), maji (water), mbili (two), jano lako nani (what is your name), pole (I'm sorry), pole sana (I'm very sorry), pole pole (slowly), and probably more that I just can't think of at 10:30 at night...
Back to the index cards, we couldn't find any so we settled on little itty-bitty notebooks where I will just have to make my own flashcards. Oh well, this is Africa (TIA). After that adventure we stopped for some coffee (my first coffee in a week) and a crepe at the Kilimanjaro Union Coffee House. This required going to a different part of Moshi I wasn't used to but all the same, I loved it! We got to walk down Market Street where a lot of stands are selling anything from sunglasses to socks and shoes and everything in between. Then we made our way to Nakumat, a Kenyan based supermarket. Let me tell you.. this thing is MUCH fancier than any supermarket or grocery store I have ever been in. This thing was two stories with very modern check out lines- it was awesome! After spending about 20 minutes here we made our trip back to the house because it was getting dark. This time we got to take a different route which was nice because we got to see some new scenery and some different faces. I swear I see the same faces every day and have actually made acquaintances with this one guy. Of course he's only trying to get me to buy some of his artwork made out of dried up banana peels but every afternoon I run into him on Chogga Street. He calls me dada which means sister in swahili :) So, if ANYONE is interested in a banana peel piece of artwork let me know because I'm sure it would make him more than happy!!
Tonight at the volunteer house its been fairly quiet with the big group of Irish students gone. Because they were such a big group, two of our chefs went on the safari with them (Msafiri and Leemo). Msafiri is probably my favorite staff member here because he genuinely is so sweet. Everytime he sees me he asks me how I'm doing and he also calls me his dada (sister). Plus he speaks good English so he's more than happy to speak to me in English :) So anyway, we only had Sarafina and Godye (not sure on the spelling but it's pronounced Go-dee) to cook us dinner tonight but it was still delicious! Godye is also the one that offers us different beverages and I learned today his nickname is Pamella (after a bar nearby the house called Pamella Bar). After dinner we experienced our second power outage, which I hear is rare to happen two nights in a row but whatever, we brought flashlights!!
One other thing I accomplished in the dark tonight, besides this blog, is I got in contact with a friend of a friend back home. His name is Luka (short for Lukanga) and we are meeting in Uhuru Park on monday afternoon for lunch! It is kind of cool to know someone back home who knows this person, and now I have the chance to meet him! I hear he is a wonderful down to earth man and based on his text messages he seems like a sweetheart. I've never even met this man and I already feel so welcome and he tells me he can't wait to meet! I am very excited -- he is the one whose wedding I have been invited to so I hope I get some more details about that as well as a chance to see his school/orphanage he has, called The Salama Center. So asante sana (thank you very much) to Cesar for giving me Luka's phone number and telling him about me.. now I have another friend in Tanzania!
Usiku mwema for now!! xoxo
Inspiration all around
June 1st 2012,
I can't believe it is already June! It seems like just yesterday it was January and I was desperately wishing to be in Africa with the children. We had another long and exhausting day at the orphanage although this morning we decided to take the dala-dala the whole way. It turned out to be a lot faster and less stressful as we weren't rushing to get to the orphanage "on time". I have to laugh at the whole on time comment because in Africa there isn't really a concern for being on time. Many Tanzanians are not bothered if you are 30 minutes late, or an hour late. This is just something I have not been able to get used to because in America time is of the essence and everyone is rushing back and forth all day long! I like the concept of not having to worry about the time (I've even stopped wearing a watch) but it has been hard to get used to.
At the orphanage we are the only teaching volunteers there, which was nice because that meant we got to spend the whole time in the classroom. We worked some more on the math equations and then just practiced reiterating and writing their numbers. All the children are capable of speaking and writing 1-10 but few of them know them out of order. For example, today I spent quite a bit of time just writing random numbers on the board and if I wrote 6, the answer to the next number I wrote down was automatically 7, even though I may have written a 3 on the board. After a while, the kids started to the get the hang of it so I think over time this will help them in all aspects of their learning.
Another thing we did was make name tags for all the kids, which not only helped us but they also loved it because it made them feel special. The names of the children are: Bisuni (girl), Farida (girl), Maurina (girl), Bright (girl), Hussen (boy), Vicenti (boy), Shabani (boy), Elisha (boy), Eli (boy), and Rama (boy). There are two other boys that come to class around 11:30-12 after they get out of some other kind of school not located at the orphanage. The one, Yassini, is mom's favorite and he is really really smart, and the other likes to sit in the corner and just draw (I don't know his name yet).
Bisuni is an absolute angel and she has touched my heart unlike any of the others. She is one of the younger ones (I think she is 4) but she always gets picked on. Every day we have been to the orphange she has been hit in the head by one of the classmates, today it was Rama. She cries and cries and all I can think to do is pick her up and give her attention. She is one of the few children at the orphanage who actually seems to be sad. I mean I'm sure all of the children have been through their fair share of struggles and in some way are sad but Bisuni shows her sadness a lot. At the start of play time she went to go play jump rope with all the other kids but then kind of went off to the side alone. Mom noticed her coming towards me and said "here she comes!" As soon as I looked at her she came running over to me and jumped into my lap. The biggest smile came over her face and she started playing peek-a-boo with me (something I had started with her the morning before) for about 5 minutes and she couldn't stop laughing. Then she continued to play with my giraffe necklace, and my hair, and then she was playing hide-and-seek behind me. She is just the cutest little girl I have ever met and I wish so much I could take her home with me and get her as far away from all her troubles as humanly possible. I know my expectations are high- but it's the thought that counts, right?
Shabani and Vicenti are also two of the very smart children. When we practiced our ABC's they were always the first two done. All of their letters were formed correctly and they knew which letters were which, even if I went out of order. I think the only reason I was able to keep the kids interested in doing the assignment was that when I graded each assignment they all got a "great! :)"... Apparently the kids were more interested in the smiley faces than anything else. At the end of the day all the children got one sticker each, unlike the other day where I think they each got about five haha.
Cessy, only 28 years old, has turned out to be an angel for these five children in more ways than one. After she graduated from college she knew she had to do something about all the orphans in Tanzania, so she bought a home and ultimately took one child from different villages around Tanzania with a promise of giving them an education, food, water, and a roof over their head. She explained to us how difficult it was to choose just five children, as she wishes she could save them all. Many of the families she visited had more than one child, so it became even harder to choose which one she would take from the home. She pays for all of their education which in shillings is a lot of money but doing the calculations it comes to about 500-800 US dollars per child each year depending on the grade level (nursery, primary, or secondary). Cessy talked about the struggles children have even making it through primary school because while their parents may be able to pay one year, they might not be able to pay the next so they miss out on a lot of information and simply aren't able to catch up. In secondary school, all the subjects are taught in English which also becomes a huge issue because all through primary school they have been taught in Swahili. Places like the orphanage that my mom and I are volunteering at are doing a good thing by teaching Swahili and English because it will prepare them for secondary school. There has been talk about teaching English as early as primary school but many of the elders disagree because it would detract from their culture.
Cessy then took us on a tour of the house, where she has three bedrooms, one for the boys, one for the girls, and one for her. The dormitories are nicer than the ones we've experienced at KOC because they have full sized mattresses with pillows and sheets. She also has a small kitchen with a little fire pit outside. One cool thing is she has about five chickens in the back hut where she gets about two eggs a day! Some of the struggles she faces are the fact that she has limited water and no electricity at all. In Shanty town the water runs to the houses through two pipes along the street and it comes on at specific times for different houses. Unfortunately the water pipe at Cessy's house was broken by a truck driver (I think) and she never even knew. She knew she wasn’t getting water at the time she is accustom to but she wasn’t sure why. When the water bill arrived she was shocked to see it was about triple the price she usually pays. Turns out the water was still coming through the pipe but was just pouring into the street for hours. You’re probably thinking “wow that’s a shame but I’m sure she was able to convince the water company that it wasn’t her fault so she shouldn’t have to pay.” Well, you’re wrong… it wasn’t her fault and she shouldn’t have to pay, but the water company didn’t care and ultimately still made her pay. Cessy barely gets by as it is, so to then have to fork over extra shillings for a problem you A) didn’t know about and B) wasn’t your fault, is just a complete shame. Since the incident she has come up with enough money to fix the one bigger pipe but still has some water running into the street on a daily basis. As for the electricity, the house is wired but it doesn’t turn on, which makes it pitch black in the house around 6:30-7pm. The children have lanterns so they are able to keep studying but usually they go to bed around 9pm because they are bored. At one time Cessy did hire someone (an “electrician” who knew someone she knew) to come and supply electricity but unfortunately the guy showed up for a few days and absconded with all the money before he finished the project. No one really knows this persons’ name and no one has been able to find him since. It’s a real shame to know that all this hard work Cessy is doing to be able to provide for these children is just being shot down every time. We have to keep in mind that these five children she is raising are still living a much better life than they ever could have imagined with their real family. Sure is might be dark around 7 and there may be days where they don’t get to shower but the fact they are all receiving an education makes it worth the struggles. Their education is what is going to hopefully keep them off the streets, where they can live a successful and rewarding life.
Mom and I have thought about the idea of volunteering at Cessy’s house after we are done teaching at the orphanage. The cost to get a taxi from Moshi to Hope Village would be 10,000tsh every day (about $6). While we know Cessy would certainly appreciate us being their every afternoon with the kids we contemplate the idea of putting that taxi money to better use. Of course we want to spend as much time as possible with the five kids, but we are also aware that they need food, water, and electricity. After about an hour after meeting, the both of us have fallen in love with the kids and of course Cessy, and she has fallen in love with us. Personally, I would love to be able to pay to have her electricity installed because I know $1000 is barely any money at all. We’ve seriously discussed the idea of fundraising the money from friends and family back home to do so. We figured that if we got 100 people to donate a minimum of $20 then this dream could be completed. I am so awestruck and inspired by Cessy’s dedication to these children and want to help in the worst way. On Monday we hope to meet with her, after we meet a friend named Luka for lunch, and really discuss with her what the best option is. I want to see if she would prefer us to spend time with the kids (which is certainly valuable here in Africa), or if she would prefer us to help with some of the expenses.
During our first power outage back at the house, and most of the night I spend a lot of time thinking about Cessy and all the amazing things I could do to help her. I hope sometime soon we can come up with a plan that will benefit her, the children, and ourselves in the best way possible. Usiku mwema…
Friday, June 1, 2012
Emotional rollercoaster
May 31, 2012
Mambo! Today has been an emotional rollercoaster.
We went back to the orphanage today, as yesterday my mom was sick so we stayed
at the house. As usual the kids were more than happy to see us but were in the
middle of an English lesson with two other volunteers from England. A few
minutes later it was time for us to take over and we began our math lesson. I
was the “teacher” today and for the first few minutes I felt really uncomfortable
standing at the front of the class. I felt like I wasn’t able to explain the
exercise to them properly and so consequently I had eleven confused faces
staring back at me. Luckily, Lucy was able to explain it to them in Swahili and
suddenly they were more than excited to show off their skills. The younger kids
were given the assignment to practice writing the number 3 on a piece of paper.
While the older ones were asked to do some math equations such as 1+7=, 3+5=,
etc. As I presumed many of the older children still had difficulty getting the
right answer because even though they know their numbers, they mainly know them
through memorization. What I mean is that they know 2 comes after 1 and so on
but they still haven’t grasped the actual concept of counting. I spent about
twenty minutes with one boy named Hussen helping him to add the two numbers
together. I figured out that using my hands (holding up three fingers in one
hand, and two on the other) made them realize what was being asked. After
Hussen finished, I moved on to two older students in the back of the classroom,
Shabani (boy) and Farida (girl), who were very quick to grasp the concept of
the finger counting. I began to feel more confident in my ability to teach them
math and from there on the day got a lot easier. One boy in particular, Yassin,
is exceptionally bright and wants to learn in the worst possible way. After he
finished his first set of equations he actually asked for more problems and
finished those within a minute. He has touched both mine and my mother’s heart
in a special way. We both wish there was a way to ensure the continuation of
his education because it is obvious he stands out from the others. I think my
mom plans to ask around about how much it would cost to sponsor his education,
and would do so if the price was within a reasonable limit. I admire her
dedication to this young boy because I know that the demand for money to
continue an education is high on the list in Africa. We all know that a proper
and fulfilling education is the key to a successful life and it would make me
more than happy to know that Yassin could be given this opportunity.
After play time it is once again time for some
lunch. This time it is not as appetizing as the last time we were at the
orphanage. Today we are having rice again, but with a very, very salty
dressing. There were a lot of sardine/fishy looking items and it really made me
sick to my stomach. I felt bad not being able to finish the plate but I feared
that if I did they wouldn’t like the end result J
Mom was able to pass her food off to her new friend Yassin who gladly welcomed
seconds. Afterwards she wondered if that was a mistake because I’m sure all the
other children would of accepted a second serving too. On the other hand, we
figured it was better to give leftover food to those who wanted/needed food
than to simply throw it away.
Once lunch time was over and the younger children
went to take a nap, and the older children went to a funeral, the volunteers
were assigned to clean up. I was put to the task of sweeping and mopping which
really became an eye opener for me. It was the first time I really realized how
poor and unsanitary the orphanage was. Mopping consisted of a bucket of dirty
water and a dirty mop which had to be rung out with my hands. It then clicked
in my head that these children sit on these floors, so all these germs get on
them, which get on their clothes, in the food, and eventually on me. Maybe it’s
the germ phobic side of me that freaks out about the spreading of these germs
but knowing every single one of these children is sick makes my mind race. I
wish there was some way I could make them all better but I know the likely hood
of that is slim to none. I alone simply don’t have enough resources, or money,
to help them in a lasting and sufficient way. All day I’ve been thinking about
the idea of bringing buckets of soap or hand sanitizer to the orphanage but I
know that would probably be insulting to the elders. The thought of them not
ever showering, or having clean clothes, or simply being able to wash their
hands a few times a day makes my heart ache. One girl that I mentioned in a
previous post, Bright (known for her “bright” smile), is covered head to toe in
mosquito bite scars. There are so many small problems each of these children
face on a daily basis, but at the end of the day all these little things amass
to one large problem called death. I wonder how many of them will live to see
the age of 10, 15, or 20. While I feel
so fortunate to have grown up, and still live, in a country where I can sustain
a healthy lifestyle, I also feel selfish for these abilities because I know
that so many are not as fortunate.
After we were done cleaning we decided it was best
to leave, as there wasn’t much else to do with all the children sleeping. We
had another long and exhausting walk after we took the dala-dala to Moshi.
About half way to the volunteer house from Moshi I didn’t feel like moving
anymore - my feet were hurting pretty bad and so was my back. Once we got back
to the house I jumped in the shower in attempt to cool off, but the water was
scolding hot (it usually is during the day). All the other volunteers were off
at a soccer game with Sadock Johnson (the founder) and when Deb arrived back at
the house we decided the three of us would go watch. By the time we got there
the game was over so we then we changed plans and went to a nearby market where
we stocked up on water, cereal, some cookies (YAY!!) and pringles (no joke).
It’s quite amusing the kinds of foods you can find in the market that remind me
of home, for example: ice cream, pringles, dozens of kinds of cereal, an array
of cookies, and other things. We only spent a few minutes in the market because
it was starting to get dark and it’s really not safe to be walking around at
night (it gets dark here around 6:30 but it creeps up on you really fast). We
get back to the house and I’m exhausted, but not exhausted enough to check
Facebook and send some emails J
For dinner we had fried chicken, rice, and vegetable stew again (yummy!).
Unfortunately the fried chicken wasn’t as tasty to me as it was to everyone
else. I prefer the breast of a chicken because it’s not chewy or slimy, but
tonight we had the wing of the chicken. A couple of the Irish girls were joking
around about this being the rooster we hear at night sometimes because they
didn’t hear it at all last night! After dinner Sadock carried out his weekly Thursday
night meeting where he personally thanked my mom and myself for choosing Foot 2
Afrika and shared his story on how he created this organization. He also
mentioned his plans for the Moshi Youth village, and the struggles of the
Maasai Village. I hope he will be able to take us to the Maasai village
sometime within the next THREE weeks because it seems all the other volunteers
had a chance to do so last weekend. I put emphasis on the three weeks because I
cannot even believe we’ve been here for almost a week! Time has certainly flown
by but I’m enjoying every moment of it. Off to bed for now… Usiku mwema
everyone J Thanks for
reading!!
An exhausting day
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Well
today was our first official day working at the orphanage. Deb accompanied us
to the orphanage as we both were still a little worried about arriving on time
without getting lost. We left the house about 8:30am and didn’t arrive at the
orphanage until around 10am. A trip that should only take about an hour got delayed
because we waited what seemed like forever for a dala-dala that was headed to
Pasua. While we waited for the dala-dala I attempted to take out 300tsh before
we hailed a ride, as I’m well aware that it can be tough trying to get to your
money with bodies crammed all around. I looked up for a brief second and
noticed a man standing right in front of me looking at all the shillings I had
in my wallet. He then proceeded to ask for money from me in Swahili, saying
that he had no money for food. I felt bad but as Deb explained to him in
Swahili: if we give one person money then we would have to give everyone money.
It reminded me of elementary school when teachers would reprimand students for
eating during class saying “if you don’t have enough for everyone then it’s not
fair.” After a few minutes he got the hint but I couldn’t help but feel bad to
know first-hand just how poor Africa can be. I should warn you that when we
converted our money we gave them $200 and got back 317,000tsh. Most meals cost less than 10,000 tsh. For example lunch usually costs about 9,000 tsh (less than 6 US dollars, and i'm talking about a cheeseburger with fries and a coke). I know from
experience that $200 is barely any money at all in the States, certainly not
enough to live off of. So to think that this man, who knew absolutely nothing
about me or my bad spending habits, thought that I was rich, baffled me. To be
honest, I thought about giving him money out of the pure goodness of my heart,
but then I questioned if he would actually be using that money to buy food, or
if he had other intentions. Deb shared with us that she often will buy bananas
in the markets and just hand them to a random person to ensure they will eat
for the day. I admire her generosity but even she admits that the well is
running dry and she has to think of herself first. Lesson learned: be more
careful when flashing my money around in the middle of Moshi.
When we
finally caught the dala-dala, my mom and I were crammed in the front row of
seats (which face the back of the bus) and had a metal bar pressing into our
lower backs. Uncomfortable to say the least. As more people were loaded onto
the dala-dala over the next few stops I began to wonder when they would stop
taking on passengers. I thought we had reached that limit until the driver
stopped and we picked up two more women (on the heavier side) and their three
baskets of corn and one bag of various vegetables. One of the baskets went in
the front seat with the driver, one basket went on the lap of the woman sitting
next to my mom, the third went on the floor of the van pushing people’s feet
into uncomfortable positions, while my mom had the bag of vegetables on her
lap. We literally could not fit any more passengers, chickens, corn, or
vegetables onto this van but surprise surprise.. we picked up another two
passengers, both of which had to stand/bend over other people.
Arriving
in Pasua, we were greeted by many friendly faces of the beautiful children.
I’ve come to realize that many of the children know a few English phrases such
as “how are you” and will repeat this over and over again, regardless of if you
answer them or just continue smiling at them. We were able to stop for water at
one of the few stands in Pasua and we’re hoping that water will always be
available there because it is a long ways away from Moshi without taking
another dala-dala. When we arrived at the orphanage the children were in school
already but Lucy still stepped out of the classroom to welcome us. She brought
us right to the classroom where the kids immediately started screaming
“teacher, teacher!” Lucy explained to us that today the children were
practicing their numbers and colors. On one blackboard she had simple
mathematic equations written down such as 1+1=, 1+2=, 1+3=, etc. and on the
other blackboard she had circles drawn out in rows and the children were
expected to know how many were on each line. In the middle of the two separate
chalkboards were blocks of various colors and the children had to identify them
in English. Because the age ranges from three to six years old, it is hard to
gauge how much these children actually know. Clearly it was easier for the
older children to recognize their colors and numbers faster than the younger
ones. There were also three new students in the classroom so they were a little
shy in speaking out loud. Lucy kept getting called out the classroom to do
other things and each time she left the kids got a little roudier and roudier.
My mother realized we needed to take action and get these children back on
track or they were going to spiral out of control. She bravely made her way to
the front of the classroom as I was preoccupied with one of the little toddlers
who hadn’t left my side since we arrived. She began asking the children to
identify the colors out loud in English, and after going through the list of 8
colors twice the kids were getting bored again. Just then Lucy came back and
began the next lesson: have the children copy the colors into their notebooks
and then have them write down the word for the color. As an incentive to do
good the children would be rewarded with stickers. Lucy was once again sent out
of the classroom and we were put in charge to watch over the children. I was
shocked at how well some of the kids were doing- one kid stood out in particular
to me (I feel bad I don’t remember his name!!). He knew he was smart but didn’t
try to show off in any way that was unsettling to the others. Of course when it
came to hand out the stickers it was nearly impossible to give them just to the
students that had completed the assignment. Not only that, but everyone wanted
more than one sticker! Some even went so far as to steal stickers from their
classmates… who knew stickers were still such a big phenomenon amongst
children? Seems like nowadays all kids ask for are cellphones. It was kind of
nice to know that these children were completely satisfied with Cinderella and
Valentine’s day themed stickers.
Once
the children were done with school for the day, it was play time!!! Let me tell
you, the children go absolutely crazy during play time. I hadn’t been sitting
for even a minute and I had four children either sitting in my lap or hanging
on to my arms. One of the newer girls in the orphanage, Bright, lives up to her
name very well. Anytime you look at her, regardless of if you smile or say
anything, she reveals this HUGE smile with all of her exceptionally bright
teeth showing. She rarely ever speaks to anyone, but I have managed to get her
to sing to me. The other three boys became fascinated with my pockets and the
whole process of buttoning and unbuttoning them. These children truly put
emphasis on the saying that the simplest things in life bring about the
greatest happiness. For fifteen minutes these boys were completely content with
playing with empty pockets. It became nearly impossible to make all children
happy however, because often times when I was giving one child attention
another three were also seeking attention. It’s a daunting task but I’m
confident I can devote enough time and energy with each individual child over
the next four weeks.
After
play time it is lunch time! The noise level goes from one extreme to the other
as once the children are served their meal they all sit on the floor and wait
to say prayers. Once again these children ceased to amaze me as they all
patiently waited for each child to receive their meal. After prayers, they are
once again silent as they enjoy their home cooked rice and beans. There are not
enough silverware to go around for everyone so all the children are left to eat
with their fingers. Not very ideal, but I don’t think they mind at all- they
are simply happy just to be eating for the day. We also received the same
lunch, and we also opted to eat with our fingers in order to get the full
experience. After the children are done eating they are responsible for going
over to the wash basin and cleaning their dishes, as well as their hands. Even
the younger ones, who had recently arrived, knew exactly what was expected of
them and there was no complaining whatsoever. Proceeding lunch, the children
all went into their designated dormitories for nap time. After this point, my
mom and I decided it was best to head off and make our way back to Moshi to
stop at the local internet café before returning to the volunteer house. Lucy
asked us to devise up some lesson plans for the children tomorrow, so we
decided on some more simple mathematic equations and to practice the alphabet.
When we
left, Lucy was kind enough to escort us out to the dala-dala stop and make sure
we got onto the correct bus. Luckily, there was a dala-dala right there ready
to leave, but of course was willing to take on more passengers! We squeezed on,
both of having semi-comfortable seats until we stopped at the next stop and
took on more passengers. Because I was sitting directly in front of the door,
any oncoming passengers were forced to stand/squat/lean/ on top of me. Of all
the dala-dala rides I had been on, this was by far the most uncomfortable
because I couldn’t see anything so I had no idea if we were headed in the right
direction or where to get off! Fortunately, we made it to our stop in Moshi and
walked to the local internet café where we were able to send a brief email to
family and friends letting them know we did in fact arrive safely. After that
we began our 45 minute hike back to the volunteer house but at this point we
were both already exhausted. This 45 minute trip seemed to drag on forever, but
once we arrived home a nice COLD shower helped to cool us off! J At 730 we enjoyed a
delicious dinner prepared by Msafiri and Leemo which consisted of pea soup
(YUMMY!), a massive mound of mashed potatoes (double yummy!!) a meatball, and
vegetable stew. Once again I am surprised by all the amazingly
delicious food. The rest of the night is spent relaxing on couch catching up on
emails and facebook. Usiku Mwema everyone J
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