11.09.2008
11.03.2008
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 sh
own 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! (PHOT
O: 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 genero
sity 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.
10.16.2008
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#
http://video.google.com/videosearch?q=carpenters+kids+and+st.+barts&hl=en&emb=0&aq=f#
10.14.2008
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 br
eakfast 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 lon
g 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 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 br
eakfast 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 lon
g 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!
9.22.2008
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 b
e 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 p
ossibly 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.
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 b
e 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 p
ossibly 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.
9.10.2008
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
011 255 787 599 511
9.09.2008
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 happ
y 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!
Liz and I spent our days off this weekend painting the office, and I think everyone is happ
y 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.
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