Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas!

I’m not quite sure how or when the holiday season made it’s stealthy approach, but all of a sudden it has shown up on my doorstep unannounced, bringing with it the signs that Christmas is right on it’s heels. I walk down the streets of Dodoma and see shops displaying artificial trees with colorful blinking lights and tacky, over-sized cards with images of jolly Santas and trite holiday greetings. The Christmas carols which have been playing from the bus station for months finally have relevance to the season, and the craft vendors offer cards painted with images of the nativity rather than those with giraffes and other wildlife. Despite all these signs, however, it doesn’t feel like Christmas. Perhaps it’s because it’s still a sweltering 90+ degrees, rather than the biting cold of December back home. Or perhaps it’s because I haven’t heard Mariah Carey and Nat King Cole belting out their holiday anthems on the radio for the last month and a half. Or maybe it’s simply because the holidays are a time for catching up with relatives and friends, and I know that for me, this tradition will have to wait until my return in April.

The holidays this year will be a time for celebrating with new friends and making new traditions, and I’m really looking forward to it. Last Sunday night marked the first official Christmas celebration of the season. Some of the missionaries in town and a few locals gathered for a combination going-away party for a Canadian couple and a singing of Christmas carols. After a pot-luck dinner, the group of about 50 people gathered in the hosts’ garden, surrounded by trees strung with lights and paper bag lanterns scattered along the ground. Each person held a candle to light the pages of printed music, and the flickering of candlelight gave a beautiful ambiance to the evening. Carols were sung to the accompaniment of a keyboard and verses were read as the group sat perched on chairs, benches, and on woven mats on the ground. It was a bit surreal to be sitting outside in the warmth of a Tanzanian evening singing Christmas carols, but nonetheless it brought back all the nostalgia of an American holiday. I couldn’t help but think of one of my favorite traditions of the holidays back home: the midnight service on Christmas Eve. Not only is this service my favorite of the entire year, but it also marks my favorite part of the Dailey family Christmas tradition. The songs, the lighting of the candles at the end of the service, the happy buzz in the air – all these things contribute to the “feel-good” atmosphere that the midnight service creates. It also is one of the few times that my entire family goes to church together, as our activities usually do not find Jennifer, Christina, and I home at the same time. Of course, however, we have to admire Dad from afar, as he has his priestly duties to uphold! Though I am excited to make new traditions this year, this is one I will be sorry to miss.

Our work in the office is winding down, and only four working days remain before the long-awaited holiday break. We finished off our distributions for the year at the end of November, visiting the parishes of Mayamaya and Izava. These two distributions made a great end to the year, as they were among my favorite villages I have visited thus far. The people – though friendly at every village – were very talkative and outgoing, and the children were also more vocal and engaging. I was also given a Chigogo name at Izava, which is a dialect spoken in most of the villages in addition to Kiswahili and some English. Callum and Liz had received their Chigogo names at a previous distribution (Callum’s means “Chief”, while Liz’s means “Our Beloved”), so it was decided that I needed one as well. After a brief consultation, it was decided that my name would be Mamvula, which is the word used for the season when the rain comes. I was given this name because it was indeed raining when we arrived, and since the Tanzanians see rain as a great blessing, I guess I can’t complain! I was encouraged to add this name to my ordinary introduction spiel in the church, which everyone found to be quite amusing. The end of the distributions mean that we have one less working day a week, but as December and January are slow months for us, Pastor Noah was quite content for us to work from home, which we were all happy to hear. I’m not sure I could handle an additional day per week in our hot office, not to mention that my productivity level is substantially higher at home.

After finishing up work, Liz and I will catch a bus on the 22nd to Dar es Salaam before continuing by ferry to the island of Zanzibar. A day later we will meet up with Leane and her son, Josiah, along with Maaike, Liaane, and another missionary and her daughter. From there all of us will be traveling to the opposite side of the island for our stay on the beach. It will be nice to spend Christmas Day with the people that have become my closest friends here, and being on the beautiful beaches of Zanzibar will not be difficult to get used to! After a few relaxing days on the white sands of Bwejuu beach, I will travel back to Dar es Salaam to meet my parents at the airport. Though it seemed that they might not make it here during my stay, their tickets are finally booked, and I can’t wait for them to arrive! It will be wonderful to be able to share my experiences of Africa with them, and for them to see where I have lived and worked for the past several months. I’m not quite sure what our itinerary will involve during their stay, but Dar, Dodoma, and a safari along the way are all on the list. Although it will be hard to see them go at the end of their two-week stay, I have a sneaky suspicion that my final months here will fly by – maybe faster than I’d like – and that I’ll see them again soon enough.

We’ve had a few new additions to the Dodoma family of missionaries lately, two of which moved into Liz’s old apartment a few feet away from my door. Scott and Nikki Wheeler are 25-year old New Zealanders who are here for three months to help out with various programs around Dodoma. They have seamlessly joined into our weekly routine of dinner and movie nights (and a newly established poker night for the guys), and it has been wonderful to add a few more young adults to the ranks. Scott is really hoping to make their stay a little longer, but as Nikki would say, “He has to convince his wife first!” We have discussed the possibility that he could help fill the gaps in Carpenter’s Kids after I leave, a prospect which he is quite excited by. It will be interesting to see how their plans progress. Another newcomer is Brandon, a 21-year old American taking a year off between his second and third years at Westpoint. He is volunteering at St. John’s University, and he has also joined in on our weekly festivities. His Army mentality left many people amazed (and cringing!) a few days ago after he ate a live scorpion, so he has definitely been a dynamic addition to our crew!

Last weekend a group of about 15 of us took a long-anticipated Saturday outing to climb Lion Rock, a small “mountain” on the edge of town. I have been looking forward to climbing to the top since I arrived, so I was happy that we had finally arranged a trip. We headed out fairly early with our Tanzanian guide to beat the midday heat, and after a brief walk along a flat trail we found ourselves briskly climbing up a steep path. Several rock landings along the way made great photo-ops, and the view of Dodoma below us as we climbed got better and better as we rose in elevation. After a short but steep climb, we found ourselves near the highest point after about 40 minutes. Though most of us would not attempt to climb the highest rock at the summit due to the scaling that was involved, Callum impressed us all by his seemingly effortless scamper up to the top. We all stood below and hoped he wouldn’t slip off the steep face, but to our relief he made it up and down safely. After comments by all about how easy he made it look and his insistence that it was easy, we did discover that he had done a bit of mountain climbing in the past: “Oh, I just won a few national climbing competitions back home.” After that statement, none of us felt quite so athletically challenged any longer! The group spent a long time at the top of the rock, taking photos and enjoying the amazing view. It’s always great to see things from a different viewpoint, and this view was no different. It was interesting to look across Dodoma and see how quickly the landscape changed from being clustered with buildings in the city center to the dirt roads and mud-brick houses of the outlying villages. After a precarious and slippery walk (or slide!) back down the hill, we found ourselves hot and tired at the bottom, but appreciative for the great view and good company we had enjoyed. I hope to make climbs up Lion Rock a more frequent occurrence, and I’m already looking forward to our next trip.

Though there are days that I feel can’t pass by quickly enough, I hope that the next few weeks are exactly the opposite. I’m looking forward to our holiday trips and my parents’ visit, and I want to enjoy every minute. Spending Christmas in Africa could turn out to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and I plan to take advantage of it. I am finding that the saying about friends is also true of making new traditions: “Make new friends but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold”. The memories I create this year will be just as precious as all the old ones I know I will miss, but I plan to treasure them all just the same.

Wishing everyone a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year from Tanzania!

Out of Africa

A couple of my friends and readers of this blog remarked that it had been a while since my last post. They essentially demanded that I write a new one, so here I am! The events of the last few weeks really hadn’t given me much to write about, as spending Tuesday – Friday in the office and visiting villages on Saturdays were all events I have written about numerous times. As things become more routine I find that I do have less stories stockpiled to pour out in the short novels I write here, so I apologize that my posts have become less frequent. I try to keep what I write meaningful and interesting, and the monotony of the everyday doesn’t quite meet that criteria. I hope that when you do stumble across and find a new post that you enjoy reading it, and that the time it may take me to write a new one is worth the wait. This past weekend gave me plenty to write about, however, so here I am again, settled in for the few hours it usually takes me to complete my perfectionist cycle of writing, proofreading, and editing these posts!

On Friday morning at 7am Magi Griffin and I settled into our front-row seats of one of Scandanavia Bus Line’s shabby coaches to make the seven-hour ride to Dar es Salaam, the former capital of Tanzania. Magi is a fellow Atlantan and a missionary working in the diocese as Special Projects Advisor to Bishop Mhogolo, and her office is just two doors down from The Carpenter’s Kids. Magi and I both studied art in school (and also discovered that we lived in the very same dorm room in Brumby Hall at UGA several decades apart!) and thus we were traveling to Dar to attend the Mukutano Arts & Crafts show. Though the bus ride was long (we traveled for 7 hours with one 10 minute stop halfway) and got progressively hotter the closer we got to Dar, the ride was much less miserable than the one I remembered from my first day in Africa. I guess after spending 24 hours on planes the eight hour trip was a bit much to handle. Nevertheless, we arrived in Dar where Magi’s usual taxi driver, Frank, picked us up and took us to the Lutheran hostel where we would be staying. After checking in and taking a brief walk-through and photo-op at the beautiful Lutheran church next door, we headed out in search of lunch. As Magi lived in Dar for two years before beginning her time in Dodoma, she knows her way around quite well, and thus we soon arrived at our destination which was a short walk from the hostel. We entered what was almost like a small food court, which had several fast-food options side-by-side. Among the choices were pizza, ice cream, a deli, and even a Western-style burger joint with fries, milkshakes, and the US’s artery-clogging creation of triple cheeseburgers. Magi and I both sat down to an assortment of salads from the deli, and already I was happy to be in Dar. Real salads are the food I miss the most from home, as they aren’t really available in Dodoma. Salads made from cabbage are common, but ones with real lettuce are rare, not to mention that you put the welfare of your stomach at risk anytime you eat fresh vegetables from a restaurant! After lunch we stopped next door in Novel Idea, one of a chain of bookstores in Dar. We spent quite a bit of time just browsing the shelves and enjoying the air conditioning, and I picked up some great little handmade cards. Though we had been in the slow-paced city of Dodoma merely eight hours before, I already felt as if we were worlds away. The high-rise filled, traffic congested, and bustling city of Dar es Salaam is a far stretch from the Africa I have come to know, and this realization became all the more apparent as the day went on.

After leaving the bookstore and finding a cab, Magi and I made our way across town to Jubilee Hall, where the Mukutano arts and crafts show was being held. We paid our 3,000 Tsh entry (about $3) and found ourselves in a huge warehouse-style building with stall after stall of artwork, jewelry, housewares, crafts, and clothing. Many of the stalls displayed crafts made by disabled people and men and women of the Masai tribe, and the proceeds from these sales went directly to their cause. Needless to say Magi and I had no trouble spending money, and I had pulled out my wallet within the first five minutes of arriving. We spent several hours meandering around the different stalls and admiring all of the amazing work on display, every so often finding things we had to have. Excluding the more expensive items of furniture and artwork, most of the small crafts can be purchased for extremely low prices, and even these can be bargained down. Most purchases leave you with the feeling that you’ve gotten a real steal, as even the beautiful and well-made items come at such a low cost. Many of the stalls had great clothes made from the bright kangas that all the African women wear, and as a lover of clothes and somewhat of a shop-a-holic, I particularly enjoyed these. Even though at home I spent exorbitant amounts of money on clothes and would have been shocked to find things I liked at these prices, I couldn’t bring myself to spend the equivalent of about $30 on these clothes. The knowledge that I could buy the fabric AND have things made in Dodoma for about $10 got the better of me, and I reluctantly left all these great things behind. My favorite part of the show was the stalls that displayed furniture and household accessories. Several places had some of the coolest raw wood furniture I’ve ever seen, all of which I wished I could take home. These items were so well made and so unique that they would have cost several hundred or thousands of dollars in the U.S. One mzungu furniture designer had on display an L-shaped couch made of raw wood, the supports of which were made to look like pier posts (rope and all) and one end of which was carved into the bow of a canoe. Though this may bring images of tacky beach house or cliché mountain home furniture into mind, it was actually a very sleek and modern piece. I complimented the designer and she told me that she’d be busy making couches for months, as she had received many orders for it. If only I had my own house and tons of money, I would have gladly taken one home as well! One jarring feature of Mukutano was the huge amount of Wazungu there! Though in Dodoma it is not uncommon to see small groups of Wazungu walking around town, there are usually only a couple together and most likely you’ve seen them before. In Dar, however, they are EVERYWHERE!! The Tanzanians actually seemed to be in the minority in this huge warehouse, and there was a great number of accents that could be picked out from the cacophony of voices. Most of the wazungu seemed to be either chic young couples with adorable children or fashionable 20-somethings, and I couldn’t imagine most of these people living in Dodoma!

At the end of the day there was a small concert, and Magi and I were relieved to sit down and listen after our long day. The concert featured several groups, the first of which was by far the best. The group played traditional African music and all wore traditional African clothes. Two little girls were the feature of the show, as they tirelessly performed intricate dances and acrobatics along with the music. Though attempts by one of the girls and by a singer from another group to pull myself and others up to the stage to join in the dancing, I was fortunately able to stay rooted in my chair! About 9pm we made our way out into the heavy humidity and got a cab to head to dinner, which Magi told me would be her treat. We arrived at a hotel near our hostel and took the elevator to the top floor, which opened to an upscale Thai restaurant overlooking the harbour, complete with waiters who pulled out your chair and placed cloth napkins in your lap. I hadn’t been anywhere this nice since leaving home nearly 4 months ago, and once again I had to remind myself that I was still in Africa! From this elegant restaurant overlooking the city lights of Dar es Salaam I could have been in any city restaurant in the United States. Magi and I enjoyed a huge three course meal, after which we managed to hobble back to our hostel in order to make the nightly 12am curfew. Entering my hot and stuffy room was made even more unbearable after enjoying the relief of air conditioning for the previous few hours, and after a cold shower I was immediately hot and sweaty again. Nevertheless I put the fan on full blast and crawled under my mosquito net for the warm night ahead.

The next day Magi and I continued our shopping quest, beginning with a hunt for a pair of sandals I had seen a few girls wearing the day before. I was told that a French woman sold them out of her home, and despite attempts to find the described location, we momentarily gave up our search. We then continued on to Slipway, a shopping district which I had heard about from friends in Dodoma. I had assumed it was another craft market with decrepid wood and sheet metal stalls like the one we visited back in August with the NY pilgrims, but boy was I wrong! The place we arrived at was essentially an outdoor mall, complete with stores, restaurants, and open courtyards, right on the coast of the Indian Ocean. It was beautiful! On one side of the building there was a stall-style market setup that is only open on Saturdays, and Magi and I slowly made our way through the sweltering aisles. Though not as stressful as my experience in August, I still found it to be somewhat overwhelming. Vendors are constantly yelling out at you to come look at their wares, which are nearly identical to the 50 previous tables that have come before them. We browsed the tables making mental notes of things we wanted before taking a break for great fruit smoothies and returning to quickly make our purchases. We spent the next several hours wandering through the shops and admiring the breathtaking view, enjoying the cool relief the stores provided from the humidity outside. I accosted a couple more women who were wearing the shoes I was searching for, one of whom was wearing some sold by the French woman, who by that time in the day would have been closed. The other girl told me she had a shoemaker make hers for her in Tinga Tinga alley, and this is where Magi and I headed next. Tinga Tinga Alley was a street lined on both sides with the small wood and metal shops, many of which sold artwork. One of these stores was where the shoemaker, Clement, worked, and this was our first stop. One sole pair of the infamous shoes laid on a shelf, and amazingly they fit. Unfortunately, however, one strap was too short, and Clement was not at the shop. We had Musa, a tailor at the shop, to call him for us, and he said he would be there in 30 minutes to fix them for me. Magi and I happily made our way through the other shops to pass the time – managing not to buy a thing! – before returning to meet Clement. Clement took the necessary measurements to fix the shoes for me, and sat down to start his work. Lukily he spoke English, and we sat and chatted with him for the next 45 minutes or so, at which time my shoes were finally done! After paying the bargain price of 25,000 Tsh (about $25) for shoes that would have cost over $100 in the US, and after taking measurements for a custom pair for Magi, we said goodbye to Clement and Musa. I promised him I would be back in January to order a few more pairs, and I plan to stock up before coming home!

A short stop at the hostel and a walk through town in search of a restaurant Magi had been told about found us in an empty vegetarian Indian restaurant. We perused the menus having no idea what most of the words meant, and finally took the advice of the owner on what to order. The food we were presented with was of the likes that Magi and I had never seen, and we dug in with interest and curiosity. Once again we were stuffed at the end of the meal, and complimented the owner on all the wonderful food we had been served. Magi did what she could to investigate what spices had been used in what we ordered, and remarked that she was curious how they had made it. To our surprise the owner then offered to show us the kitchen! So the three of us squeezed our way into the tiny kitchen to see the chefs at work. We left the restaurant full, happy, and having felt like we’d been given the royal treatment. As it was only 8:30 we decided that as wonderful as the stifling heat of our hostel rooms sounded, we did not want to go back yet, so we decided to go for a drink. Magi had heard of a great hotel that opened within the past few years which she had not yet been to, so we walked the couple of blocks to The Kilimanjaro Hotel. Immediately upon walking up we knew we were entering a different world, as palm tree-filled pools and a red-carpeted porte cochere led up to the façade of an elegant hotel. The lobby was amazing, complete with a fiberglass back-lit check-in desk, high end boutique stores, gorgeous wood paneling and marble floors, cozy seating areas, and a spiral staircase suspended over candlelit pools. After wandering around the lobby in pure tourist fashion, we took the elevator to Level 8, the hotel’s rooftop bar. Not only did this place feel like it was much too nice to be in Africa, it also topped the list of one of the chicest places I’ve ever been in my life. Tuxedo-dressed Tanzanian waiters led us to a small private seating area with cream leather couches and chairs next to floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the water. The room was dimly lit by delicate paper light fixtures and candles, and Magi and I sat for hours enjoying the atmosphere. It felt strange ordering drinks that cost more than some people in Africa see in a month. Magi and I discussed how unusual it would be to bring one of the guardians of a Carpenter’s Kid or even one of the guys in our office – who are all well-educated – to a place like this. There is absolutely no connection between their world and places like The Kilimanjaro Hotel, and it’s strange to think that many of these people will never leave their villages, much less see a place like this one. I felt like I needed to pinch myself every few minutes as a reminder that I was still in Africa and that in less than 24 hours I would find myself back on the dirt roads of Dodoma.

After another sweltering night in my room at the Luther House hostel, Magi and I attended the Anglican Church on Sunday morning. Though I found it a bit hard to concentrate due to the incredible heat, I still felt more at home in that church than I had in any service since arriving here. The service followed the liturgy I have been accustomed to since I was a little, and it was nice to hear the traditional hymns as well. Magi and had to leave right after communion in order to grab our things and catch a cab to the bus station, but nevertheless I was glad we had attended. The return trip to Dodoma was very hot (I’m sure you’re noticing a theme here…..Dar is HOT AND HUMID!) and seemed a bit long, and we were both glad to arrive safely back in Dodoma after the long weekend. It was nice to escape for a few days and to enjoy some of the luxuries that the simple life in Dodoma cannot provide. On my previous brief trips to Dar I had decided that I did not like the crowded, noisy atmosphere, but after seeing more of the pretty parts of the city I really enjoyed it. At the beginning of the trip I couldn’t help but think of how nice it would be to live there and to have access to all the great things Magi and I were able to do. After a while, though, I realized that this experience wouldn’t be what it should have been if I were not in Dodoma. While being able to go to Slipway or to The Kilimanjaro Hotel regularly might be nice, it would in no way be the “Africa” that I think it is meant to be. While the dirt roads, no air conditioning, and few restaurants of Dodoma leave a bit to be desired at times, it is what it is, and I’m happy for that. I feel that being here and seeing how people live enables me to somehow connect with the people that The Carpenter’s Kids serves. Living in a place like Dar would make it too easy to cast aside the hardships of these people and forget. As one Carpenter’s Kid said, “We felt like we had been forgotten by the world”, and I feel like it is my duty to remember them.


Wishing everyone a Happy Thanksgiving from Dodoma, Tanzania! I hope you enjoy spending the day with your families and giving thanks for all that you have. We truly are blessed.

People, Places, and Wide Open Spaces

I have some new photos up at www.picasaweb.google.com/sarahldailey. Enjoy!

A chicken and a Goat

It’s been a while since my last post, so I guess it’s time for an update in the Dodoma happenings of this certain Mzungu. Liz and I have become quite annoyed at having this yelled out to us multiple times a day, as yes, we realize we are “white ones” and are not impressed by this statement of the obvious. In moments of irritation I’ve been tempted to respond the equally observant exclamation, “African!”, but thankfully I’ve managed to restrain myself thus far. I recently found a group on Facebook (that all-encompassing social network site that eats up much of my internet money) entitled “I went against the guidebooks’ advice and actually chose to live in Dodoma”. The group page contains a “For those of you who….” list which with poignant accuracy details the uniquities which become a part of daily life here. Here are a few for your enjoyment:

For those of you who….

7. Grew a second skin of sunscreen mixed with dust
12. Watched 3 seasons of Dawson’s Creek because….well…you could.
15. Were able to moan like the upper classes about lazy night watchmen or complacent house maids who left peg marks in your clothes or baked bread as hard as a rock
20. Actually tried on multiple occasions to explain that England, USA and Australia are in fact not on the same continent, or to crack the stereotype that all wazungu are shillingi billionaires. And failed miserably.
30. Will never miss squat toilets, mosquito nets, mosquitoes for that matter, t-shirt tans, ugali, obnoxiously noising fridges, people that walk behind reversing cars, WAITING, and everything else that makes Dodoma that little bit 'special'.

One group member left a comment about being addressed as “Mzungu”, and said that she had come up with a solution. When being addressed in this way, she would exclaim, “Wapi?” (where?), and look around confusingly. I must try this next time!

The past couple of weeks have passed by fairly quickly, which is something I haven’t experienced so far, as time usually seems to drag by. (Just to update my usual tally: 3 months down, 5 ½ to go.) I had gotten myself quite stressed out over all the work I suddenly had to do in the office, and my “to-do” list seemed to grow exponentially with every passing day rather than getting smaller! One day last week I chose to abandon the office and work at home, which proved to be well worth it. I cranked out a sizable chunk of my list in about a 7 hour span, which with the distractions (and heat!) in the office would have taken me days. I still have quite a bit to do, but I feel that it has been reduced to a manageable size. Life in Africa isn’t meant to be stressful, as the phrase “Hakuna Matata” (which means “No worries” for you non-Lion King watchers) is one which is taken at full value. People don’t really get stressed here, and they just take things as they come. This is also the reason that doing anything takes about ten times longer than anyone in the US would find normal or even acceptable, which has definitely been something to get used to, as well as a test of my patience.

We had a group of 5 visitors from VA join us a couple of weeks ago to explore how they could contribute to The Carpenter’s Kids. Though their trip was short – only 5 days – we enjoyed having them here. The group was led by Buck Blanchard, Director of Missions for the Diocese of Virginia. He is also an avid supporter of the program as a part of the Friends in Colorado group, which supports a village of 200 children. The two remaining couples and he are all members of the same parish. Liz and I were particularly excited for their arrival because Buck had kindly agreed to bring an extra bag for all the things we had decided we were missing and couldn’t live without. For weeks we had been compiling lists which we then sent to our parents who gathered it all and sent it on to Buck in Virginia. When Buck arrived we felt a bit guilty at the size of the bag he had lugged over for us, and even guiltier when we found out that one couple had lost both of their bags in the journey, while ours had arrived safely. Nevertheless, we were quite excited to receive these items from home, and it was almost like Christmas morning looking through our wares! While my mom had included only things which I had asked for, Liz’s mom had thrown in a few surprises. We got a kick out of a few of them, the best being a few sets of brightly colored buttons in the shape of African animals. We are quite determined to find a use for them!

The group was initially interested in exploring healthcare in the Dodoma region, so their visit was filled with trips to various health centers in the area. Some of the staff was able to accompany them on their trip to Dodoma General Hospital, which Liz and I pass by everyday on the way to work. There are always huge groups of people waiting outside for visiting hours to begin, and families are expected to provide much care for their sick family members. The hospital does not provide food for its patients, and thus the family members have to bring in their own. We were given a tour of the hospital, and it was nothing short of shocking, though by Tanzanian standards it is probably seen to be quite nice. The hospital campus is composed of many different buildings, each of which is dedicated to a different ward of the hospital. One of the first buildings we visited was pediatrics. We entered to see a bench full of women and their children awaiting treatment by one nurse, who sat administering an IV to an infant. We made our way through the building, passing bed after bed of women lying with their sick children. One woman held a screaming child, part of whose head was bandaged but the rest of which revealed bright pink skin in some stage of healing from severe burns. A visit to the maternal ward was possibly even more disturbing. Women who had either just delivered their babies or in various stages of labor lay uncomfortably in beds no more than one foot apart from each other, some with their newborns right there beside them. A visit to the neonatal ICU ward was slightly more promising, as at least some care was shown in keeping these susceptible infants from the exposure of the rest of the hospital. The mothers sat chatting with each other on their beds in one part of the room, while their babies were kept in a separate room behind closed doors. We also visited an empty ICU with three beds – and wondered whether the fact that it was empty was a good or a bad thing – the eye unit, the dental clinic, and Radiology. The hospital’s capacity was 420 beds, and yet they had one sonogram machine and one working X-ray machine, which are the only ones available for use by several regions. The sonogram machine had been donated to the hospital in the early 1990s, meaning that by now it is extremely out-dated. We also visited the wash room, which I was worried would be nothing more than women scrubbing sheets in vats of cold, soapy water. I was pleased to find that they did have high-temperature machines to wash the linens, but the remarks of the two men operating them and the sight of the stained sheets hanging outside to dry proved that they the machines left a bit to be desired in terms of sterilization. The closest comparison I can make to what I saw at Dodoma General is to that of war movies, where metal beds with thin mattresses are lined up in close succession down the entirety of a long, narrow room, each filled with a patient afflicted by some illness or another. The visit to the hospital left me with a renewed sense of just how far ahead the western world really is, though I had to remind myself that these patients were lucky to be near the hospital, as many of the distant villages provide little or no opportunity for medical care. I am continually reminded here that the world of medicine is one which I am intrigued by, and maybe if I can make it through Chemistry (the second time around!), that I may find myself in this field one day in the future.

We have had quite a few exciting social events over the past couple of weeks, which at least gives us something to look forward to on weekends and evenings. Dinner parties with Leane, Liz, and the Holland girls (Miaaike – “Micah” – and Lianne – “Liana”) have become the norm, and each Thursday night finds us sitting out in the courtyard at Leane’s beautifully set table, candles and all! (PHOTO: me, Lianne, Miaaike, Leane, and Liz) Recently we’ve also been making our way through our various DVD collections, and just the other night we took a walk down memory lane with a Disney night, watching The Lion King and Anastasia! Liz, Miaaike, Lianne, and I also decided a few weekends ago that it was time we had a little dinner party of our own when Leane was out of town, but what began as the four of us eventually escalated into a full event with 11 guests! Liz and I volunteered for the main course and planned to make pasta. While we had done our shopping a few days before, the news that there were 11 people coming sent us back to the store for more supplies. By some reasoning we decided that three bags of pasta would be sufficient, which we quickly discovered was an enormous amount! Nonetheless, we sat down to enough pasta and sauce to feed an army, along with various other dishes which had been contributed by the other guests. We finished off with boxed cake mix with homemade vanilla icing (Magi helped us out with this), fresh fruit, and tea, and with the satisfaction that we had managed to pull off a successful and enjoyable dinner. It did take two more pasta dinners (prepared in a variety of ways) and a total of 20 people to finish the massive amount we had prepared, so we definitely learned our lesson! Leane also had a birthday party recently at the Dodoma Hotel, to which she invited about 25 people. A table was set up poolside, and she had pre-ordered 30 small pizzas for everyone. The waiters brought them out 10 at a time to be shared by everyone, but by the time we were all stuffed and people were leaving to go home, the final 6 or so appeared. Needless to say we knew what dinner would be the following Thursday! It has been so nice to spend time with the people around me on such an informal basis, and we all look forward to our dinner parties with great anticipation. These people have become my stand-in family, and it has been nice to come together and have each other to share both our joys and our trials of each day.

We have continued with our weekly distributions in the villages, which generally are all very similar. Recently, however, I visited the village of Fufu with John, John Joseph, and Willie, three of my Tanzanian co-workers. (The rest of the group stayed with the VA visitors at another village.) While being the only Mzungu among the staff and villagers is always quite the experience, this village provided additional excitement. I learned upon our arrival that due to the village’s size, the kids were actually divided between two different parishes about 30 minutes apart. We got to the first parish to drop off the supplies we would be distributing later in the day, but of course we had to stay for a while to be served chai and chipati. We then continued on the other village, which proceeded to serve us chai for the second time within the hour before we continued with the distribution. With only about 25 children the distribution went quite quickly, so we then got back into the Land Rover to return to the first parish. We arrived and climbed out of the car to enter the church, and a tiny little girl of about a year was standing right beside the car. I bent down to say hello to her and reached out my hand, and was somewhat surprised when she wrapped one of her tiny hands around my finger. I then reached out for her and she willingly came to me, so I entered the church carrying this sweet little girl. She sat with me at the front of the church for a while until she decided it was time to go find her mom, and at her wiggling I set her down to go tottering back down the aisle. Though we only spent a few minutes together, my little “rafiki” (friend), as John called her, definitely was a special part of the day. After the distribution was complete they told us they had gifts to give us, which is a normal occurrence. The gifts they presented, however, were anything but normal, as first a chicken and then a goat were handed over to us! The generosity of these people is amazing, and I can’t help but feel like they are showing us too much gratitude, as it is the supporters in the US who are providing these things for them. We are simply the deliverers! While groups have been presented with goats and chickens before, they are often left in the village for “safekeeping” by the parish priest, so I was somewhat taken aback when I opened the door to the car to climb in and found both of these animals settled in for the ride back to Dodoma! With no other choice I carefully stepped over them to sit at the front of the car, and was followed by a few village members whom we were giving a ride into town. So it was like this that I traveled the two hours back into Dodoma: John Joseph driving with John in the front, and Willie, me, the Tanzanian women, the goat, and the chicken. We eventually picked up even more people along the way, which made for quite a packed ride. To top it off, one of the Tanzanian women sitting near me got a bit car sick, which prompted a scolding from John Joseph and a stop for a quick change of clothes. Needless to say I was very happy when we finally arrived back home! John and John Joseph both happily took their new animal friends home with them, and I inquired as to whether they had been eaten yet just the other day. They are thankfully both still alive, though John has plans to fatten up his goat for Christmas dinner! I expressed to Liz that I don’t think she will ever beat my trip to Fufu, but I’d sure like to see her try!

When I was still in school – just last year, which seems so long ago! – this time of year seemed to pass by in the blink of an eye. The end of October meant Fall Break, three weeks later was Thanksgiving, and two weeks more of classes and then exams meant the long-awaited Christmas holidays had arrived. I am curious to see whether this time will pass as quickly here, as I do not have these series of breaks to split up the weeks. I am anxious for Christmas, however, as Liz, Lianna, Miaaike, and I have planned a two-week getaway to Zanzibar Island off the coast of Tanzania. I will thus spend Christmas day lounging on a beach somewhere, and I simply cannot wait! I have heard that Zanzibar is a beautiful place, so I am greatly looking forward to it. Though the trip there will be anything but fun – requiring an 8-hour bus ride and a 2 ½ hour ferry – I am hoping that our time there will make it well worth the horrendous travel. Leane and her son who will be visiting and a few others from Dodoma will be there as well, so we have plans to spend Christmas together, which will help us all to forget that we’re missing Christmas at home. I’m sure it will be here before we know it, and I know that decorations have already started appearing in stores in the US! It will be strange to miss out on the Dailey family traditions this year, but I guess it’s not every year I’ll get to have an African Christmas.

The past few weeks have been much easier, and I am finding that the longer I’m here the easier it gets, which is a nice feeling. One of the Virginia visitors remarked that one of his favorite parts of his trip was seeing The Carpenter’s Kids staff all joke around and interact with each other, and he stressed how we should enjoy it while we can, because it won’t last forever. I know that I will miss these people when I’m gone, so I’m trying to appreciate every day with them. Liz and I have developed quite a unique relationship, and much of what we say to each other is either laced with sarcasm or is picking on the other in some way. It’s been quite fun to have people to joke around with, and Liz and I enjoy thinking of all the things I’ll get to taunt her with when I’m back home enjoying the luxuries of Western life while she is still here! I look for the joy in things everyday, and whether it’s joking around with my new friends, sharing candlelight dinners and movie nights, or by being shown kindness and generosity by those who have so little, they all add to my appreciation for my time in Tanzania.

A Carpenter's Kids Video

One of the visitors from the NY pilgrimage group in August prepared a short video about the Carpenter's Kids. He shot nearly 20 hours of film during the trip, which he plans to make into a longer film. This short 14 minute version follows one group as they visit their link parish and distribute gifts which they brought with them. Though it isn't a distribution like the ones I attend every Saturday, it still gives a great impression as to what these events are like, singing included! My blog and pictures can't quite capture the spirit of these events, so for those of you who are interested this video is a great way to see what I've really been up to!

http://video.google.com/videosearch?q=carpenters+kids+and+st.+barts&hl=en&emb=0&aq=f#

Lights, Camera, Action!

It’s a Tuesday afternoon and I’m enjoying yet another national holiday by relaxing at home. Just a couple weeks ago we had two days off for the celebration of Eid, which commemorates the end of Ramadan. Since there is such a substantial Muslim population in Tanzania it is celebrated as a national holiday, and as a result we enjoyed a few blissful days off work. Today’s holiday is in remembrance of the death of Tanzania’s first president, Julius Nyerere, and once again the office is closed. While Dodoma doesn’t provide many things to do on our days off, I have been quite content to stay at home and work my way through a few books. Last week was quite a busy one in the CK office, and thus the break has been much appreciated.

The CAMS compound has received a couple new residents in the past two weeks. With Liz having moved to the other compound I was left as the only American, but as of today I am not alone! Peter, who will be teaching at CAMS for an indefinite amount of time, arrived from Dar today. We were also joined by Brian Atkins from Stratford upon Avon in the UK who has arrived for a 7 week stay in Dodoma. Brian is the Business Advisor for the diocese and plays a large role in the finances and organization of the Carpenter’s Kids. He spends a few months out of every year in Dodoma, and he has once again moved into his small apartment in the CAMS compound. Immediately upon arriving he set to work resolving any issues we have been dealing with in the office, and he is a very aggressive worker. When he sets out to do something it gets done, usually with a speed unparalleled in Tanzania! It’s been nice having a new neighbor in the compound, though he doesn’t seem to spend much time here. He is constantly off meeting with various people in the diocese, and for a man in his 70s he sure has a lot of energy!

Much of last week in the Carpenter’s Kids office was spent with Roger and Angela Turner who arrived from the UK to film a promotional video about the Diocese of Central Tanganyika. Roger worked for BBC for many years and has generously given of his time and skills to shoot and prepare the film. Carpenter’s Kids has been given the opportunity to appear in this video, and thus last week was spent traveling around the diocese with Roger and Angela in order to record the various activities of the program.

On Thursday morning Roger, Angela, Liz, Brian, and I set out for Intuka Primary School about 30 minutes outside of Dodoma. We were there to film the Mama Lishes – the women who volunteer to make the children breakfast – serving breakfast to the 50 Carpenter’s Kids whom attend the school. We were met by a large group of school children, and the teachers had quite a hard time gathering them back into their classrooms. While we waited for the children to have their morning break when they would be served breakfast we visited some of the classrooms. The classrooms of what would be equivalent to 4th or 5th grade in the US were of a relatively manageable size, and though they were a bit crowded, all the students had a desk and chair. When we entered the classrooms of the younger children, however, I was astounded to see how crowded they were. In one small classroom there were 200 children, all sitting on the floor and using their laps as desks. While in the US we think that overcrowding and lack of teachers is a problem, it was nothing compared to the conditions in which these children learn. After visiting the classrooms we went and watched the Mama Lishes making the porridge in a huge cauldron, and I must admit it didn’t look very appetizing! When the children finally appeared for their break they neatly lined up – girls on one side, boys on the other – and took turns taking a small plastic mug in to get their porridge. They then sat on the ground to eat it, but it was quite some time before it cooled off enough to eat. The pot of porridge was still half full after all the children had been served, and many went back for more. We were told that they received 20 minutes for their break, but they definitely were given longer than that on the day we were there. We couldn’t help but wonder whether they were usually given the opportunity to get the second cup they are meant to receive, as it seemed that by the time the porridge cooled enough to eat they would be called back to their classrooms. This small meal is all these children would eat for the most of the day. We were told by the principal that many parents can only feed their children dinner in the evenings. The parents go out and work all day in order to have enough money to buy food for their families that evening. It is scary to think of how many people here earn and spend their money one day at a time, and it definitely makes you thankful for the lives of privilege we lead.

Friday and Saturday were both occupied with very, very long distributions. The two villages we visited on these days – Lufuto and Chilonwa – had been informed that filming for a video would be taking place, and thus they held nothing back in preparing for our visit. On Friday we visited Lufuto where we listened to various choir groups sing and dance, and we had been sitting there for three hours before we even began the actual distribution! Just when we thought there couldn’t possibly be any more singing, choir after choir would file up to have their turn. Though the music here is beautiful and their dancing is very entertaining, the hot church and uncomfortable chairs meant that we had all reached our limit of tolerance by the end! As always, however, it is wonderful to see how happy and excited the people are at our being there, and we are always welcomed with such warmth and hospitality. Everyone in our group was given fabric as a gift, which they presented to each of us in turn and tied around us. Saturday was no different, and once again there was no shortage of choral entertainment for our enjoyment. Throughout the day we heard from 19 different groups, each of which had prepared one or two very long choreographed songs. Being a new distribution, the people of Chilonwa had come out to the event in huge numbers. As their church building was not completed we were seated outside, shielded from the sun by a cornhusk roof. It was almost unbearably hot under the shade, but I definitely had sympathy for the hundreds of people who were left standing in the sun for the 5 + hour duration of the distribution. Once again we were all given gifts, and Roger and Angela were even given a goat, which thankfully we left in Chilonwa to be cared for by the parish priest. I don’t think there would have been any room in the car for a goat on our ride back to Dodoma! Though the two days were extremely long and exhausting, I think the footage that Roger received will make a great addition to the diocesan video. Brian remarked several times that he wished he could bottle the music and liveliness of the atmosphere at these events. He said that you can’t know what it is like unless you’ve been there, which is definitely true. While my photos can capture a small fragment of the vivacity of a particular moment, they are nothing in comparison to the celebration which ensues at these events. They truly are remarkable experiences, and I’m trying to cherish each one.

Sunday provided yet another opportunity for filming as we headed out to Pastor Noah’s parish church, Chadulu, to partake in his weekly service. His parish is in the middle of building one of the largest churches in Dodoma, though they are currently at a standstill due to lack of funds. They have poured the concrete foundation and begun pouring the second level, which is to be a balcony. There are no walls yet save for the concrete support beams which mark out the boundary of the walls. Despite its unfinished state, however, wooden benches and plastic chairs were gathered under a canvas tarp where the service would be held. As guests we were once again seated at the front of the church beside the small table which was serving as the altar. The couple hundred children attending the service were seated on the floor to the left of the altar, and Liz kept them entertained by taking their photos during the two hour service. Liz and I were recruited to follow the Swahili readers with an English reading of the first and second lessons, and it was nice to take part in the service. Though the service was in Swahili it was much closer to what I’m used to from home, and I was able to somewhat follow along from the book Pastor Noah held next to me. The service would not be complete without the drums and singing of the church’s multiple choirs, and the visitors were once again presented with small gifts. At the end of the service we filed out to shake the church leaders’ hands, and we were then directed to get in line beside them so that the congregation could shake our hands. Literally hundreds of people, children included, passed by to shake our hands, after which they would join the end of the line and shake hands with everyone else who came after. The last person out of the church had quite the job, as they then had to slowly make their way down the line, shaking hands with everyone who had been in the service! It was quite a site to see, and I can’t imagine that ever happening at home!

I have passed the 2 ½ month mark of being in Dodoma, meaning that in 6 months from today I will be back in Georgia. I still am amazed by how long it seems I have been here, and to think that I still have half a year to go is a little difficult to absorb. I am definitely being challenged every day, and my strength and determination is being put to the ultimate test. I am humbled and astounded by the people who come to Dodoma – or to any foreign country really – and dedicate years of their life to volunteering and serving other people. Just the other day I came home to the two girls from Holland sitting outside in the courtyard, one of which was in tears. She had just talked to her parents and was suffering from a bout of homesickness, coupled with what sounded like the symptoms of the same illness I had shortly after I arrived. Though Dodoma is a wonderful place and we experience wonderful things on a daily basis, it is still a struggle to get by without the people you love close by. I’ve definitely come to find that for me, home is where the heart is, and I still miss it everyday!


Thanks to the Grace Church staff for their thoughtful card. It definitely brightened my day!

The Road Not Taken

The events of the past couple of weeks have passed by in a blur of days and activity. With Miriam’s last day in the office having come and gone, Liz and I have been left to our own devices. My compiled list of all the tasks I have to complete filled about three printed pages, so I have had no problem finding things to keep me busy. Callum, along with Liz’s help, has been writing a proposal for the healthcare component of the program. This document will be submitted to an organization in the United States this week, and we hope they will agree to fund a pilot of the program, to be followed later by a full implementation. Following this submission, Callum will begin working on a plan for the dioceses of Atlanta and Virginia, which Bishop Mdimi will take to the United States when he travels there in October. The work of The Carpenter’s Kids seems to be constantly evolving and expanding, and it’s been great to witness these changes.

One of the big events in the diocese this week was Synod, which is a yearly meeting of all the priests of the diocese. For the past few years, however, there hasn’t been enough money available to hold the convention, and therefore this year marked the first Synod in three years. Pastor Noah, the director of The Carpenter’s Kids, is also a parish priest at a church in Dodoma. He spent the week in Mvumi (about one hour outside Dodoma) at Synod, and we hoped at some point that he would have a chance to address the group about the program. As the schedule was very tight we were unsure whether this would be a possibility, but Noel and I nevertheless prepared a Power Point presentation with photos I had taken at villages and information about the program. On Wednesday afternoon, Pastor Noah called to tell us there was a chance we would be given a brief amount of time later that evening, and that he would like the whole staff to come to Synod to be present for this. So, after spending almost a full day in the office, Liz, Noel, Mmoti, John, Callum, Daudi, John Joseph (the CK driver), and I set out on the hour drive to Mvumi. After waiting around for about four hours for all the priests to assemble at their nightly meeting, we entered the convention hall and were seated in front of 600 people. This large group included all of the diocesan parish priests in addition to one other member from each parish, as well as the head staff of the diocese which included Bishop Mdimi. We were luckily given time to give a brief presentation, and therefore we were all required to introduce ourselves. Liz and I have become quite accustomed to giving our short intros in Swahili in the villages, but doing it in front of 600 people was intimidating to say the least! Callum read out his introduction which the guys in the office had helped him write earlier that afternoon. As always, however, the group was very appreciative – and somewhat surprised – at our use of the language, especially after Pastor Noah told them we’d only been here for a short time. After Pastor Noah’s brief summary of the program, Bishop Mdimi elaborated greatly upon the background and benefits of the program. He is one of the few bishops in Tanzania who accepts help from the Episcopal Church of the United States, and most other bishops refuse this connection due to the issues of homosexuality and the ordaining of women. Bishop Mdimi is a very knowledgeable and forward-thinking man, and it was wonderful to hear him speak so generously of both the United States and of The Carpenter’s Kids Program. After the presentation the staff finally headed home, arriving back in Dodoma about eleven p.m. We were exhausted and weary from the long day, but renewed in our pride for The Carpenter’s Kids.

I am finding one of the more challenging aspects of being here is the environment in which I work. I have come to realize from past work experience that I am definitely not an “office worker”, and I am much more suited for work “in the field”. Put me in a hospital or a retail store (both of which I have experienced) and I’m fine, but put me in an office, and I tend to get exasperated fairly quickly. The office also seems to grow infinitely warmer with each passing day, which doesn’t ease the situation in the slightest. I am finding my wonderful colleagues to be a blessing, as without them I’m not quite sure I’d be able to make it through the day! Part of the difficulty of this situation comes from the fact that I entered into this experience thinking it would give me a break between school and getting a job, and in essence what I have done is come to Africa and started a job! This is not to say that I’m not enjoying the work that I’m doing – because I most definitely am – but I will say that I look forward to our Saturdays in the villages, which are hands down my favorite part of the week. Just yesterday we visited the villages of Chiuftuka and Chibelela, both of which were quite a distance from Dodoma. It was a first-time distribution at Chifutuka, and it quickly became clear that Liz, Ainsley (a visitor from Australia), and I were the first white people these villagers had ever seen! While we are used to the attention that Wzungu receive in Dodoma and in other towns of Tanzania, I don’t think we were quite prepared for the spectacle we became in this village. The children were all very excited at our being there, and everyone – adults included – was constantly lining up to have their photos taken. It was possibly the first time they had seen a camera as well, and seeing themselves on the digital screen was a source of endless entertainment. As always we were warmly welcomed, our imperfect (though improving!) Swahili was regarded with surprise and applaud, and John was even presented with the gift of a chicken – which then rode with us inside the Land Rover for the remainder of our journey. Overall it was quite an interesting day!

The Ex-Pat community in Dodoma is quite large, and I am always somewhat surprised upon walking around town to see Wzungu whom I have never seen before. Part of this is because it seems as though the people here are constantly changing. There are always new people arriving, people leaving, and people visiting, so there is ample opportunity to meet new volunteers like myself. I have enjoyed spending time with everyone I’ve met so far, and the people in our compound are no exception. Our compound is made up of 8 apartments, two of which were empty until just this week, and the rest of which are lived in by Ex-Pats. Aside from Liz and I there is Leane, who lives two doors down from me and teaches at the CAMS school across the road. She is from New Zealand and is the mother of two college-aged boys (they will be visiting for a month or so in November, so she is very excited about that!), and she plans on being here long term, meaning 8 to 10 years. She has been a wonderful friend to both Liz and I, and it has become somewhat of a ritual to have dinner with her in the courtyard on Thursday nights. Another apartment is occupied by Catherine, who is also from New Zealand and teaches at the school. She too, has been very helpful, and always extends an offer for us to tag along when she’s heading to town. KuSum, who is from India, is another one of our neighbors. She is doing research on neonatal and maternal deaths, and she is usually very busy with her work. Her husband is currently in Vietnam on work business, and I think she is finding it hard to be away from him. She came and chatted with me the other night and began talking about how her husband keeps telling her she should leave her job here so they could be together. She said that as appealing as that option sounded, she could not just leave her work. She said, “Though you may want to, you can't run away from life. It will always haunt you to fail. You'll regret it for the rest of your life.” Her words really struck a chord with me, and I keep reminding myself of them. Even though sometimes I may find it difficult to be here, and there will be times that I’ll want to pack up and come home, I know that I would be disappointed in myself for doing so, and I’m not sure whether that is something I’d be able to forget. Another apartment is occupied by Corey, who works at the hospital in Mvumi. She only lives here on the weekends, and I think have only seen her once in the month and a half that I’ve been here! The other two apartments, which had been empty, are now occupied by two 21-year-old girls from Holland. They just arrived on Tuesday and will be here for five months. They are speech therapy students and will be working at the school for the deaf as the final part of their studies. The two of them joined Liz, Leane, and I for our weekly dinner, and they are both very sweet girls. It will be nice having a few more young people here to hang out with! Liz will be moving out of her apartment in about three weeks and into Miriam’s apartment at the lower compound. It will be strange not having her ten steps outside my door, but at least she’ll only be about a five minute walk away. I believe that Peter – a teacher from the U.S. returning for his second trip – will then move into Liz’s apartment. There’s no telling who will come and go around here, but it’s nice to be surrounded by such a wonderful group of people.

Some of my most enjoyable moments of the past week have been centered around a usually unenjoyable engagement for me – running. I ran cross country and track all through high school and have since attempted to continue this habit, but the truth is that I usually hate every minute of it. I perform this dauntless task for no other reason than without it I feel lazy, but my dedication to the sport ebbs and flows with great inconsistency. I’ve done a bit of a better job here, and for a time I was doing my running in the late afternoons. The increasing heat and my tiredness after work have provided two good excuses to talk myself out of going, however, and thus I regrettably dragged myself out of bed before work on a couple occasions last week to get it over and done with. While I had been running a loop consistent with our daily walks to the office – into town on the main road and returning home on the back roads, with maybe a few loops around the school thrown in – on one of these mornings I decided to head south of our compound and in the opposite direction of town. Less than five minutes after heading out, the paved road quickly gave way to the dusty and rock-strewn roads typical of Dodoma, and a clustering of mud brick houses lined the periphery. I continued on this path for a while towards one of the mountains of craggy rocks which seem to enclose the town, passing men, women, and children on their way to work and school. I usually receive a substantial number of odd looks – as people’s diets and lifestyles leave little need for exercise in Tanzania – and a variety of greetings to most of which I know the appropriate responses. At one point I decided it was a time to walk for a bit, and not long after I was joined by a little girl of seven or eight who had emerged from one of the houses along the path. Due to my small repertoire of Swahili and hers of English, we quickly exhausted the little information we could extract from each other, and thus were left to simply walk side by side. Monica – as I discovered was her name – took my hand, not seeming to mind that we’d met mere seconds before, and it was like this that she and I walked together, not saying a word. We came to a point and decided to turn around, and in passing back by her house she indicated that she wanted me to come with her. I was a little apprehensive about this, as I wasn’t sure whether we’d encounter her parents – who would surely wonder why their daughter had brought a strange Wzungu to their home – but nevertheless I went with her. I timidly set foot into the dirt floors and walls of her living room, and soon realized that no one else was home. I was able to gather from Monica that her parents were at work and she was left home alone, as she did not go to school. She encouraged me to sit in one of the upholstered chairs, and she disappeared behind one of the three curtained doorways of the small house. She came back with paper in hand, which she proudly handed over to me. The papers were letters from her pen pal, a girl named Zoe from Colorado, and she insisted that I read each one of them. It was clear from the dates that these letters had been written years ago, and I wondered whether this correspondence still continued or whether she had safely stowed these crumpled letters as one of her few possessions. It made me feel guilty about the child a friend and I had sponsored through World Vision in middle school. After receiving only one letter in many months we had decided that $22 per month was too much to spare from our babysitting allowances, and thus abandoned our African pen pal. After a few more minutes I indicated to Monica that I had to go to work, and while she was intently trying to communicate something to me in Swahili, I reluctantly had to say goodbye and leave her without understanding a word she said. I told her that maybe one day I would come visit her again, and I hope that a future running journey will enable me to do so. I was touched by the simplicity and the warmth we had shared in our short time together, and I couldn’t help but feel a little bounce in my step and smile on my face as I headed towards home.

After going to church this morning and then spending a few lazy hours poolside at the Dodoma Hotel, I decided yet again that I should probably go on a run. Despite the fact that it was the hottest time of the day, I knew that whenever a running urge strikes I have to snatch it up, else it disappears as quickly as it came. The extreme heat brought about the rebellion in me, however, and for once I decided to cast aside the spandex Under Armor pants that I had taken to wearing under my running shorts. It had been instilled in us that modesty is of utmost importance here, and shorts are seen to be inappropriate. It was my logic, however, that running was a different story, and if the Olympic photos on the front pages of the paper were any indication, then even Tanzanians knew that people exercise in shorts! So, I set out – barelegged and all – and headed out to search for a route which Callum had told me about. I seemed to receive no more or less unusual looks from passersby, so I convinced myself that the shorts were obviously not too terrible of a thing! I ran for a while before I found the turn-off Callum had described which apparently led to a large water hole. I began my trek down the small and very rural footpath, and was immediately in awe of the landscape around me. I imagine that my surroundings were very similar to what you would find in Arizona, though I have never been to this part of the United States. Everything had a slightly orange tint from all the dust, and the leafless foliage, unusual shaped trees, and craggy hills lent a very desert-like feel to the landscape. I continued along the path, my only company being goats and cows, who would begin trotting along at my approach, leaving a dusty wake for me to follow. At one point I climbed a small hill and saw the “water hole” below me. My vantage point afforded me a great view, and what I saw around me was a beautiful sight. Children and animals alike were seeking respite from the midday sun by swimming in the water, and a few older boys were lounging on the banks. I continued to follow the trail which swung in a wide arc around the water, and after exchanging a few greetings with the children swimming, headed back towards the road. When I was almost back into town I took the opportunity to stop and talk to a few women who had greeted me in English on my way past the first time. One of the women said she had lived in Pennsylvania while her husband was in school there, and we talked for a bit about what I was doing in Dodoma. I took this opportunity to ask (as she was a Tanzanian who spoke very good English) whether the shorts I was wearing were a bad thing. Her reply gave me much relief, as she explained that in normal life yes, shorts are bad, but that they are fine for exercising. I was grateful for her advice, as well as for the conversation, which provided a short break from my laborious running in the intense heat! I was reminded of cross country days in high school when we would gather to run in the almost unbearable heat of August in Georgia. This time, however, I was glad that stopping to walk cast only disappointment upon my own conscience, and there were no coaches there to frown at my lack of endurance. Though I arrived home exhausted and dripping with sweat, I realized that I actually had enjoyed my run. It has become clear that discovering things on foot and straying from my normal path is the best way to experience things. On both of these excursions I have been blessed – whether it be by the company of a sweet little girl or by having the beautiful landscape of Africa lain before me– and as Robert Frost wrote in his famous poem, “I took the [road] less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.”

This past month and a half has presented me with many new roads down which to travel. I’ve encountered road blocks and many a pot hole, but now and then I find one which has the smooth ride of a newly paved road. I’m trying to take all these things in stride, and I never know what will be waiting for me just around the next bend. Though I know I’ll continue to encounter minor bumps during my time here, I also know that each new road brings new joys as well, and they’ll help me find my way.

Phone Number Edit

I got news that the phone number I posted on here didn't work, and I think I was missing some numbers. Here is the updated one:

011 255 787 599 511

The World Wide Web

Well, I am writing this blog post from the comfort of my cozy African abode, meaning that I finally have internet! It's been a long month of using the unreliable internet in the office and racing against time and money in internet cafes, and I'm so relieved to finally have it at home. It's going to be a challenge reminding myself that every MB I download is costing me money, and the convenience of flat monthly rates does not exist here. I've spent quite a bit of time on here this evening doing various things, and I'm sure I've run down my prepaid credit quite a bit. I figure it's worth it though, and it puts it in perspective to think that I probably won't come close to spending on Internet per month what I did back home on clothes! I have finally posted pictures as well, and they can be viewed at http://picasaweb.google.com/sarahldailey. I hope you enjoy viewing them as much as I enjoyed taking them. I think Liz finds it humerous (and possibly somewhat annoying) that I often make her stop on our walks around town because I see something I want to take a picture of! I guess it's nice to know that no matter what my memory may forget over time, the pictures will be there to remind me.

Liz and I spent our days off this weekend painting the office, and I think everyone is happy with the results. We tediously painted the new Swahili logo on the door and on one wall of the office, and it definitely brightens up the room! Before I came to Africa I didn't expect to be spending so much time in an office. Now that I've realized I'll be there quite a bit, we're doing all we can to make it an enjoyable environment to work in. The next improvement might come in the form of a fan, as it's started to get very hot in the afternoons. It's strange that the weather is beginning to warm up here, whereas at home the opposite will be happening in a month or so. Although I usually hate the cold of winter, I might find that I'll miss it this year!

I have officially had the first wedding proposal of my life, and let's just say that it wasn't all I'd hoped my first proposal would be! Liz and I were walking home from the office on Sunday when we were approached by a man. After introducing himself he bluntly explained that he was hoping to be married soon, and that he wanted to marry a white woman. His next sentence caught us a little off guard, as he said "Do you think that would be possible?" Liz and I quickly realized that he was wondering whether it would be possible to marry either one of us! Liz quickly explained that no, she wasn't going to be getting married anytime soon. With that, he turned to me and said, "Well maybe you will be the one I can have this conversation with." I explained that I was not looking to get married either, and we said goodbye and continued on our way. This conversation definitely provided us with some laughs, and I have remarked to Liz that we should have asked him how many cows he would have offered for us. Apparently it is common to offer livestock in exchange for a bride here, and the number and quality of animal is representative of how worthy the bride is seen to be. Miriam told us that she was once offered three cows, and I would have been curious to know how many of God's little creatures Liz and I would have fetched. Maybe next time we'll be prepared with questions of our own!

I finally got the recipe for the cake that Margaret, my housekeeper, makes. I thought I'd share it with you all! Though there's nothing African about it, it is just plain good, and worth the time to make! I haven't tried out the recipe myself yet - who needs recipes when I have a cook! - so you're on your own with this one!

MAMA MARGARET'S CINNAMON CAKE
Ingredients for cake:
- 2 cups flour
- 1 1/4 cups sugar
- 1 tsp salt
- 3 tsp baking powder
- 1/2 cup margarine
- 2 eggs

Ingredients for topping:
- 3 tbsp sugar
- 1 tbsp cinammon
- 1/2 tsp margarine

Mix cake ingredients together until smooth. Pour into a greased and floured cake pan. In a saucepan, combine the ingredients for the topping. Set on low heat and mix until small clumps are formed. Sprinkle on top of cake. Bake at 350 degrees for 30-45 minutes. Enjoy!

I hope that with my renewed connection with the rest of the world that I can be better about posting and replying to emails. It's hard to remember how we survived when the internet didn't exist, back when encyclopedias were the norm for referencing facts! It's amazing to reflect on how far the Western world has come in these past few decades, and being here makes you appreciate the convenience of our home so much more. This part of the world is still behind, and many people here don't even have access to running water, much less computers. I have to wonder when - if ever - technology and modern advances will reach the remote villages of Tanzania and other parts of the world, but there are so many more necessary things which need to come before this. Things we've never had to live without - running water, electricity - some of these people have never had. Hopefully the turtles of the world will eventually catch the hares, this time with no anomosity at the finish line.

Day by Day

Written Thursday evening September 4, 2008

As of today I have officially been in Tanzania for one month, but I’m finding it a little difficult to come to terms with this fact. When I realize that I’ll only be here for a little over seven more months it seems as though this first one has gone by rather quickly; but on the other hand, it seems like one month is far too short to account for the time that has passed since I said my final goodbyes and boarded my plane in Atlanta. During my four years of college it was normal for a month to pass between visits to Gainesville to see family or friends who didn’t attend UGA, but with my hectic schedule of classes, work, and busy weekends, these months passed without much thought. Perhaps it was the fact that I always knew that I could drive home or to see friends at a moment’s notice which made these distances bearable. Being 9,000 miles across the globe puts a different perspective on things, and I am definitely finding it more difficult. The first UGA football game of the season was this past weekend, and though I never was a huge football fan by Georgia standards, I found myself wishing I could be there. You miss what you know you can’t have!

We have definitely settled into a routine now and I’m finding that the days are passing by quite quickly. Every morning Liz and I make the 15 minute walk to work, arriving in the office by about 8:30. We have been busy the past week and a half working with Miriam to learn what jobs we will take over from her when she leaves the office next week. It’s hard to believe that she has done all this work alone up to this point. There is quite a bit of work that Liz and I will be splitting, and we have both been assigned to our own areas of expertise – complete with flashy job titles. Liz is now the Program and Policy Development & Management Advisor. She will be in charge of the business side of the program. My title is the International Communications & Development Management Advisor, which pretty much means I am in charge of all forms of communication between the diocese and the parishes here, as well as with the supporting parishes in the U.S. I am also in charge of all of our graphic design, and I was happy to find that I could put my major in art to good use. I have already revamped the newsletter which we send out every month, and hope to get the August issue out within the next couple days. I also designed a Swahili version of the English logo which was designed some time ago, and I have begun implementing this into our publications. We’ve also been working on improving the condition of the office. I quickly set about rearranging the furniture, and Liz and I got rid of the ugly, ripped floor covering which was laid on top of the concrete. Though plain concrete floors don’t seem that appealing, believe me – it’s better than the alternative! I’m also planning to cover the bulletin boards with some of the great fabric which is sold here, and I am going to paint the new Swahili logo on the door and one of the walls. As Miriam says – I’m putting my mark on the office already!

Aside from the ten of us that work in the office on a daily basis, there are constantly people filing in and out, and it is usually pretty crowded. There is barely enough room for everyone to work, and Liz, Miriam, Callum, and I have been bringing our laptops to help ease this situation. About a quarter of our office space is currently occupied by mosquito nets and other supplies which are given out at the weekly distributions. We have plans to move these to make room for more workspaces. It will be much easier to get things done when we aren’t sitting on top of each other!

The many visitors which crowd the office each day are all here for various reasons. Many of these are Carpenter’s Kids and their guardians who have come to Dodoma to seek treatment for some illness. After they visit the clinic on the floor below us they come to the office to be reimbursed for their treatments. Although the healthcare division of the program is still being developed – Callum is currently working on this – we do have an Emergency Healthcare fund which these reimbursements come from. Medical treatment is very inexpensive here, but with the volume of children who come to our office for help, these costs add up quite quickly. It will be great when the Healthcare policy is up and running, and the dioceses of Atlanta and Virginia are ready to pitch in their support in this area.

We usually leave the office at about 4:30 and head home, after which I try to find things to fill up the rest of the day. I occasionally bring some work home to finish, though after already spending 8 hours in the office, this isn’t my favorite way of killing time. I’ve been trying to run most days, I’ve been reading quite a bit, and I’m quickly making my way through Liz’s DVD collection. A combination of tiredness and having nothing to do usually has me in bed by 11pm, which is much earlier than I’m used to. I’m glad to have finally settled into a day to day routine, and it’s something I’ve been waiting for since I arrived. It’s clear to me now that Liz and I will have our work cut out for us, and I know that there are many things which wouldn’t be done without us here to take over for Miriam. There are so many things which contribute to the running of The Carpenter’s Kids, much of which I am not even aware of yet. It will be interesting to see how Liz and I cope without Miriam’s guidance, but I know we’ll figure it all out eventually. The guys in the office are busy with their own tasks, but they are always willing to lend a helping hand as well.

The church situation is one that Liz and I are having a little difficulty adjusting to. Before I left I expected church to be the one thing which would be familiar about my life here, but I’m finding that this is not the case. The Anglican cathedral holds three services on Sundays, two of which are in Swahili and one which is in English. We have been attending the English service lately, but as I mentioned before it is much different than what I’m used to. Everything that I like about the Episcopalian method of worship is taken to the opposite extreme. The traditional hymns are replaced with contemporary songs displayed on a Power Point presentation, and Liz and I have started referring to this as “Happy Clappy Music”. Whereas at home I can almost recite word-for-word what part of the service my father is coming to next, the service here follows no distinct pattern. Even the Bible readings are edited to include more modern language, and the prayers I’ve had memorized since childhood have words omitted or changed. The English congregation does not have a priest, and the service is led by several missionaries. While there is absolutely nothing wrong with this style of worship - and I know that many denominations choose to worship in this way - I find it strays too far from what I consider ‘normal’ to be enjoyable. Church is meant to be a time of relaxation and reflection, but I find I spend this hour each Sunday slightly irritated and wondering when it will end. I guess being a Preacher’s Kid and attending church nearly every Sunday for my entire life has made me a true Episcopalian! Liz and I are considering attending the 7am Swahili service this week. We have been to this service once before, and though we can’t understand a word of the service, it somehow all makes sense. The service is led by actual priests who follow a set liturgy. The music during this service – though not traditional hymns - is beautiful, and when the congregation sings they sound like a trained choir. The church also has several youth choirs which sing throughout the service, and they are incredible as well. Though this service is different from anything I’ve ever experienced, the fact that it is a traditional African service makes it normal. Maybe if Liz and I can get ourselves to church by 7am we’ll become regulars at this service, though I’m sure we might be the only “Wazungu” there!

I received the sad news a couple days ago that Liz will be abandoning me in October to move about two blocks away to another CAMS compound. There are a few more missionaries coming to teach at the school, and Liz’s apartment has been promised to one of them. Liz will therefore move into Miriam’s old apartment when she returns to New Zealand. Aside from the fact that it will be strange not to have her next door, it also ruins our internet plans! We have been waiting for weeks for an internet provider in town to receive wireless routers from the U.S. Though their service is expensive to install, we were optimistic that we would have both been able to share one router, thus splitting the cost in half. They also charge a flat monthly rate, which is much better than the other providers in town. The service which most people use, a company called TTCL, is not wireless, and they do not charge a flat monthly rate. Their installation is less expensive, but they charge you by how many megabytes you download, which can add up quite quickly. It seems as though we now have no choice in the matter but to go through TTCL, and had we known this I could have had internet weeks ago! I will be calling them as soon as possible, so hopefully I won’t be without internet for too much longer. I feel extremely cut off from the rest of the world with our limited access, and I am very anxious to change that!

A lot has happened this past month, and I am grateful for all that I have seen and experienced thus far. I can only hope that the remainder of my time here continues to be as enriching, but I have no doubt that it will prove to be. I’m in a beautiful country surrounded by wonderful people, and I’m learning new things everyday. I could not ask for more.