Assumption Busters

When I first arrived in Tanzania, I tried my best to leave, what another volunteer so adequately put as, my "cultural baggage" behind me. I gave it a good honest shot, trying to keep an open mind and remembering all that I had learned in the many books I read for my thesis. Needless to say, I still had a few cultural assumptions when I arrived here. Although it is embarrassing to admit them, I think that it is important to recognize them. One of our first lessons in the afternoon was about the culture here, and about our assumptions as westerners of the Africans, and about the Africans assumptions about westerners. Throughout my first two weeks, I have seen many of these assumptions fleshed out in a variety of episodes. Assumption #1- The African is not good at organization and lacks the skills to run a business. I never really thought about this assumption until I got here, and I realized that to some degree I had this idea engrained into me. I found myself surprised at how well run the program is and how organized and competent the staff is. Looking back, I should not have been surprised. They are just as capable as me of planning and running an organization. It is embarrassing to realize that I was operating under this assumption. I think that often Westerners blame the lack of development on the lack of organization skills, dedication, or experience in planning. After two weeks of living here I can truly say that this assumption is not true. The cultural differences that may attribute to this assumption are that nothing operates in a structured fashion in respect to time and that most people are not as educated. For example, today we had a meeting with all the women in Kiwodea. We arrived at 2 pm, the time for the meeting to begin, sweating a bit because we arrived 5 minutes late. We forgot one important thing- this is Africa, baby! We operate on TFT! Tanzania flexible time! By the time that the van arrived to pick us up at 3:15, 8 women of 25 had trickled in and the meeting was about to start. While this would be completely unacceptable back at home, everything operates like this here. The meeting will happen, the business will be taken care of, but talking with the members and being late because your family needs you takes precedence and needs no explanation. Secondly, most of the organizations are run by people with little classical education. They are simply people who want to help their community in some way. I met a woman today who ran an orphanage in her own home, which meant that she had 10 orphans living with her in addition to her own 6 children. There was no organized activities, meals, or sleeping arrangements for these children. While this may not constitute as an organization back at home, this woman, with no more than an 8th grade education, is helping her community. Assumption #2- White people have all the answers, especially in the business realm. I found this one out on day one, when we were asked for money for the dying pigs. Then again when we were told to teach on the spot. We are traveling to different businesses around the community and at every place we are greeted with complete enthusiasm and gratitude, as if by simply being there they will sell a few more chickens the next day. Each woman explains her business, raising 10 chickens or selling 4 cups of hot tea a day, and then they look to us. The first question is always asking for money, the sting of which will not fade. I know that the answer is not giving them money, even if only 5 dollars to buy 5 more chicks, but it is the hardest thing not to hand them a bill. Then they look to us to fine tune their business. We give them as much advice as we can possible come up with and then leave. The women always invite us into their homes and introduce us to their families as royalty, an answer to their prayers. Surely now their business will flourish, with just a bit of advice from the mzungus and a little money to help them through the week. We are being asked all over the place to give business seminars on how to run small businesses. This is where I feel totally lost, as I have no experience with running a business, regardless of a business in Tanzania that is focused around subsistence living. Instead we try offering new advertising techniques and tips on how to save money. But the rub is this- how do you encourage a woman to save when there is not an extra penny around and all of the money is spent on food and bills? These are just two of the new cultural assumptions I am learning about through my time here. Although they are difficult, especially the latter, I am still grateful for learning them and recognizing them in myself and in those around me.

Swahili Lessons

We are taking swahili lessons from some of the local mamas. It is great, although I have not yet ventured beyond greetings with the locals here. The locals always want to chat, either in swahili or english. About half of the conversation is in greetings. So here is a few clues for your next visit to Tanzania...

Hell0- Jambo!
What's up- Mambo!
Cool (response to mambo)- Poa!
Crazy cool like a banana (alternative response to mambo)- poa kichizi kama ndizi
Slowly (how everything moves here)- Polepole
Hello to an elder- Shikamoo
Response to Shikamoo- marahaba
Welcome (we hear this a lot, everyone is super friendly)- karibu
Thank you very much - Asante sana

An admission: Whenever I hear asante sana I always add "squashed banana" like in the lion king.... anyone? anyone?

Pics 3

This is a picture of where I work- Kiwodea (Kiliminjaro Women's Development Assoc).

I have probably already taken 50 pictures of this mountain. This is taken from where I work.

On the road to work in the morning.

Me and my new friend Isaac on our front porch.

Market day!

Today we went to the market where a few of the women from the group that I am working with have their businesses. The market is comprised of about 300 kiosks, each about five feet by five feet and constructed out of sticks and logs. Most people are selling used clothing, which are sold to the locals. I found out first hand where my clothes go when I donate them at home. It is weird to see the locals, especially the men, wearing t-shirts for colleges, restaurants, and businesses back home. One of the boys that I am getting to know has a lawn care t-shirt from arkansas and a t-shirt from a restaurant in texas. It is mostly the men who wear these t-shirts. The women wear kangas, long skirts with exquisite designs on them, and what we would consider formal dresses. It is not acceptable to take pictures of the people here so when I manage to sneak a picture I will post it. The market was really crazy and full of life. We visited one woman whose business it is selling tea and fried bread. While we were interviewing her, we watched another woman in another kiosk selling used bras. The women, in these gorgeous gowns, tried on the bras over their dresses, commenting on each others choice. This was a whole new kind of bra shopping, much different from the quiet privacy of a Macey's dressing room, and at about 100th the price.

More Pics

A local girl in front of her house. These kids are so freaking cute here, they shout "Mzungu" (the word for white foreginer) at the passing van every day.

This is the local pub. Behind that screen is the bar with the game on. This is in a village next to Moshi called Rau, and is their version of Ferrelli's.

Pics

This is the house.

This is a picture from the house of Mt. Kiliminjaro.

More coming later!

Moshi Town

Moshi is the city that we are next to. Homebase consists of two neighboring houses surrounded by a large hedge. The house that I am in s the central house and has the main hang out area and the kitchen in it. This is about a twenty minute walk from the middle of town. Most of the roads are not paved and the mud is slick and full of potholes that can be 2 feet deep. Almost all the citizens here do not have cars but take public transportation, called daladalas to and around town. The rule is that a daladala can not be full. We have seen people hanging off of them, people with the torsos out the window and more than 30 people stuffed in a van meant for 13. This is all quite usual.

The town has about a four block radius that is paved. The bus station is in the middle and there are two round-a-bouts on the outskirts. One is a clock tower and one has a giant statue of a soldier in the middle with a large sign that says "Water is Life" on it. The town is always packed with people. Citizens walk together according to age and sex, it is extremely rare to see women and men walking together. There are many people who have different businesses scattered around, usually in the form of kiosks and blankets on the street. There are a few different buildings that have several shops inside but all sell a limited selection of supplies. The town spreads out from this central part. For the most part, I feel very safe in Moshi. There are a few people who want to sell you crap but most are very friendly and want to help as best they can. It is hard to describe the organized chaos here. I hope to have pictures up soon. I will write more about Moshi as I observe and experience more. I am so happy that I chose to be in the same area for a significant amount of time. I am becoming less and less of a Mzungu (the slang word for foreigner) each day. Yesterday, while at the pool at a local hotel, I discovered how easy it is for tourists to come here and not experience any of the culture or the town. I am so excited to continue to learn more about this city and its people.

My Namesake

There are a group of about 5 guys (age 20-25) who are local volunteers from the community that help us translate within our placements. They are all really friendly and super helpful. And, best of all, they love me. And it is all because of my name, which also happens to be that of a football club in England that is much adored by them all. They have all assumed that I have a complete working knowledge of all the EPL games and teams and players. And, of course, I let them believe it.

The most shocking repercussion of this, however, was that as a part of our orientation we went to play soccer at the high school with all of the volunteers and staff and I of all people got chosen FIRST for the soccer teams. It was unbelievable. As we were lined up so that the captains, two local guys, could choose I was having nausea from all the terrible middle school flashbacks and could not believe it when I was chosen first, and all because of my name. And then to make it all that much better, they asked me to explain the rules to everyone. As a result, I ran my butt off like never before in the shadow of Mt. Kilimanjaro in the blazing heat, made about 6 successful passes and a couple big boots, but now have about 5 good local friends. Nice pick on the name, mom and dad!

Initiation by Fire

While I had read in my travel books that rides in Taxi were going to be a bit of a thrill, I had no idea. These taxis make our travel in China look so easy. First you have to understand that road situation. most are not paved, cars and trucks and daladalas (local buses) travel as fast as they possibly can. There is not a shoulder and many people commute by foot on the side of the road and also sell goods there. The cars pass each other no matter if there is cars, blind curves, people, goats or cows on the road. It is extremely dangerous and scary. In one of my guidebooks it says that a highway out of Moshi to Arush, a local town, is perhaps the most dangerous road in Africa.

On friday night a group of us went for, what else, Chinese food. Four of us got into a taxi and in the first thirty seconds of being in the car hit TWO people, and I mean PEOPLE not cars. One was a pedestrian and the other was a man on his bike who went flying, the bike completely damaged. The driver did not look behind him, even though some of the locals chased after the car to get the driver to claim responsibility. Those of us in the car were completely silent for the rest of the ten minute drive. I had to rely on my faith in God and my faith that I was meant to see another day to get me through that drive, no exaggeration.

Last night we went out for, what else, Pizza at an Indian food restaurant. Afterwords, we picked up a taxi and took it back to the home base. From there, we took the same taxi out to a bar twenty minutes from home. When we got to the bar, the driver told us that he was not actually a taxi driver but that we had mistaken him for one and had asked him for a lift. The man was so nice that he couldn't say no and also wouldn't let us pay him for his time. He was just going into town to use the internet. We are really lucky that this man was a good guy and needless to say we have learned our lesson about taxis and will only be taking the clearly marked registered taxis from now on.

Cultural lessons and Orientation

Besides going to placement, we having cultural lessons, kiswahili lessons, and other orientation activities in the afternoon, especially for the first three weeks which is the minimum amount of time that people can be here for. Last week we had swahili lessons that were taught by a few of the local mamas. I am getting good at greetings and picking up a few other words that will help me teaching the kids in the classroom. On Friday, we had our first big english lesson with the kids. We attempted to teach them to count to three. While they know the numbers in order, they can not distinguish them from each other or know what they mean. So I drew some Simbas (lions) on the chalkboard and asked them how many where in a group. They were really confused. A few kids finally grasped it. On monday we are going to move on to four and five Simbas, hopefully with good results. The classroom is stuffed with kids, they have chairs and desks (two or three to a desk), one giant chalkboard and the alphabet and numbers written on the wall. They are supplied with one pencil and one writing booklet which the kids have to pay for. This classroom is actually substantially better equipped than other classrooms other volunteers are working in.

We have also learned about the culture here through sharing by the staff and other local speakers. We learned about marriage and other rites. There are many traditional people in the area, one of our staff members paid for his wife by giving her father 6 cows and 4 goats. The people in the city, however, are a bit more modern but the locals do not like this because of the introduction of divorce into the culture. Female genital mutilation is practiced in the tribes surrounding Moshi but is technically illegal. There are many human rights campaigns around town which focus specifically on this issue.

Week One- New Placement!

After the turmoil of Chawamaki, and the inactivity of Tapoti, Brittany and I were moved to work with another women's group called Kiwodea. So far this has been a lot more successful. They have many activities. They run a nursery school for kids 2-6, they give out micro loans to women starting businesses and they help educate women on how to run their businesses. Along with helping with these endeavors, we will be teaching English to the kids and to the Mamas in the group, about 25 in all. On the first day we were given a tour of the building and were put on the spot to teach something to the kids. We had no idea what they new already and none of the teachers spoke english to help us out. We ran through the alphabet and counted to 10 about 50 times and then the lesson was over. It is really apparent that the kids do not know what they are saying when they recite letters or numbers, they could not tell you what 2 was or if you pointed to a random letter they would always say "A!". They are well behaved, for the most part, if not for the teachers who walk around as we teach and poke and prod the kids with their sticks until they are completely paying attention.

I am a lot more excited for this and after feeling helpless at Chawamaki I feel like I can do some good here. Teaching english will be a huge challenge for me but I can see the need. I am also excited to teach about running a business. I don't know much about this, of course, but even simple lessons like how to save and what loans are are extremely important. It is not the cultural norm in Tanzania to give back something that was given and so the idea of a loan is very foreign to the women. The loans are given to the women in the group as the head Mama decides in three increments: gold, silver, and bronze. The bronze loan is 20,000 tsh (about 20 us dollars), the silver 50,000 (about 50 us dollars) and the gold is 100,00 tsh (a hundred dollars). The money is generally used to by supplies for their businesses and have to be paid back in 3-6 months, depending on the type.

I am also excited to visit some of the businesses. The women (and most of the people here) choose one commodity to sell, usually at the side of the road. It is a totally different way of doing business. We are struggling to come up with ways to teach the women to save money because there is no expendable income, so it is not as simple as telling them not to buy that extra mocha or to not go out for dinner as often. Although this is a challenge, I am really amped for the opportunity. The women in Tanzania are the most amazing, inspirational and strong people I have ever met and it is a true privilege to work with them.

Week One- Chawamaki

My first week here was overwhelming, moving, and inspirational. We had orientation the first two days here. We got a tour of town and were introduced to my fellow volunteers. I am living in a room with five beds, but I just have two roomies- Fiona from Australia and Beth who is from Nevada. They have both been here for 6 weeks. They were super helpful in my adjustment to living here, letting me know where things were and what the house norms were.

We have volunteer placement from 8:30-12:30 each day. My placement partner is Brittany, from Madison, WI. We are getting along really well. Our first placement was working with a group of HIV positive women called Chawamaki and a group of HIV positive teachers called Tapoti. On monday, we were introduced to Mama Helen who single handedly runs both of the groups. Just meeting her was inspirational. Mama Helen is a petite, soft spoken lady who is HIV positive, earns money for her family, runs these organizations, cares for her family and is a widow. She makes almost every other woman I have ever met look lazy. We learned about both of the groups and on Tuesday we went to Chawamaki. Chawamaki has four on-going projects, each started by past volunteers. They have chickens, and sell the chicks and eat the eggs, they rent cell phones that were donated to them, they have a garden to grow fruit and veg, and they have pigs. They sell the piglets. The money goes to keep the projects up and running and also to help sustain the women who are often working to support their families and are running on low energy due to their HIV meds.

Going to Chawamaki on the first day was a life changing adventure. We met Mama Helen and Mama Judith (the chairwoman of the group) at a government building that they use as their office. This was a small, one room concrete building in the middle of a field. We chatted with the Mamas and met the government official who ran the building. The mamas decided that we were much to far from Mama Judiths house, so we walked to Mama Judiths house. We walked for about a half an hour through genuine jungle. We saw mud houses and people working in fields. The most exciting though was that we saw two different types of monkeys, one large one and several small jumpy ones. This was crazy. When we got to Mama Judiths house, we saw the chickens and the pigs that belong to the group. There is one pig that was going to give birth any moment, three other full grown pigs, and about 6 piglets. We helped to feed the pigs, something I had never done before. Then we sat in Mama Judiths house to talk about the group.

Mama Judith told us that they only had two more days of pig food. They just sat their staring at Brittany and I with the expectation of emerging check books. We were told strictly that we were not to give the groups money but it was so difficult after meeting the pigs and after talking with the Mamas who want nothing more than to help this group flourish. We tried to come up with immediate fund raising activities but there was nothing else we could do. The pigs were going to starve. The other projects that Chawamaki has going are, for lack of a better word, equally dead. The garden can not be used because they are waiting on a water pipe from the government (never going to happen), the cell phones are all dead or stolen from the group, and the chickens have mysteriously stopped laying eggs.

That we were helpless was a difficult but important realization for us to make. Each of these projects were started by past volunteers that had good intentions and well thought out plans, on paper. In reality, however, each project was simply not sustainable. It would not be fair for us to support this group with a bandaid. I had brought with me to Africa an abundance of book knowledge on this topic but seeing it on the ground affirmed my belief that many of these groups, good intentions aside fail quickly without sustainable funding and proper education about running a business. After much reflection and support from our peers, Brittany and I decided that there was nothing we could do for the group. This was a very difficult thing because I have always wanted to work with a grass roots organization and I felt a twinge of failure and guilt as I stepped down from my placement. I still think about Mama Helen and the pigs frequently.

Week One

Hello People!! (that's what they say here)

Well, after 4 days of traveling (two nights in airports and one on an airplane) I have finally made it to Tanzania. The trip over here was the most exhuasting and frustrating days of my life and there were admittedly points when I thought that I couldn't (or wouldn't) make it. But the moment I landed in Kiliminjaro all of that dissapeared and I was so happy and honored to be here. Once I arrived, I managed to bribe a taxi driver to use his cell phone to call a ride to the house where I am staying. On the ride from the airport to Moshi (the town where I am staying) any thoughts of sleeping at Heathrow completely vanished. I saw (in no particular order): some Masai men herding goats, women carrying pounds and pounds of bananas on their heads, a man selling plastic cups on the side of the road, my life flashing before my eyes as we nearly were in a head on collision, the dry savanah and busses indescribably full of people with some more hanging off of them. The best moment, however, was when my driver had to slam on his brakes to stop for a crossing animal. It was tall, horselike with weird stripes and so I asked the driver what it was and he kindly said "mama, that's a donkey". Hm, I blame it on the lack of sleep. When I got into the house, the house manager, Mama Grace gave me a giant hug and said "no worries, you are safe now". What a welcome.

I live in a house with 25 other volunteers which are a very diverse group. The staff here is amazing, so kind and inspiring. This morning I was greated by Mount Kiliminjaro as we ate breakfast. It rained this afternoon, the first time since July. The staff here told us that we have brought blessings with us, but it is Tanzania that has brought blessings to me, already. I am so appreciative and excited to be here, thank you for each of your support- I wouldn't be here without it.