kristy in Africa

Introduction to my trip to Africa

Sat, 01 Oct 2005 23:19:02 GMT

Kristy Blick, Co-founder and Chairman, Elimu Africa: www.elimuafrica.org

My name is Kristy Blick and I live in Minnesota with my husband Gerry. I have two grown daughters. I'm an exercise physiologist and work in a hospital doing cardiac rehabilitation and also present health seminars and do wellness coaching for corporations. I enjoy playing the flute, yoga, taking walks, biking, reading, cooking - if some one else cleans up, traveling, gardening, movies and doing just about anything with people I love.

In February, 2005, I was a volunteer with Cross Cultural Solutions at Upendo Orphanage in Moshi, Tanzania. Two weeks into my trip, I met Mama Lucy Renju, Second Chance Education Center founder and after a nice picnic lunch and a tour of the fledgling school, she said "So when will you come and teach?" Since I had immediately fallen in love with Mama Lucy and the students, I found myself agreeing to start the following afternoon. The experiences that followed were heart warming and heart breaking and overall, inspiring.

Since I have returned home, I realized that my trip to Africa was not complete and that the trip itself was just the beginning. I hope that helping this group of people have a better life will always be a part of my life's journey. I am grateful to have the encouragement of my family, friends and co-volunteers along the way.

Below are my very lengthy, uncensored and unedited journals from my trip. I hope this gives you a flavor of what it is like to volunteer in Tanzania. As you will see - I loved it!!!

I have a speical place in my heart for the beautiful girls and women of Africa. The issue of gender equity and women's empowerment is near and dear to me. If fact so much so that I wrote a song to inspre the girls and women of Africa to get their education, learn their rights and stand up and be heard. If you scroll through all that pages of journals, you will find the lyrics of the song, Miss Africa. If you would like to purchase a copy of it as a donation to the causse of Elimu Africa, please contact me.

Back to the beginning - The trip Feb 4^th 2005.

I arrived at the airport in Minneapolis two and a half hours early. Had no trouble going through security. Decided to go to McDonalds for a Big Mac and fires. A man from the Philippines sat down and visited with me. We talked about the Tsunami.

Once I was on the plane, I found out that the woman behind me, Shannon, was also a volunteer to Africa. She was a surgical resident at the Mayo clinic. She was very friendly and quite a character. My seatmete was a very nice lady named Vera She was going to Liberia to adopt two children ages 3 and 6. She was a single mom with three kids.

While on the plane, I could not settle down to sleep. I was too excited. I visited with Shannon, Vera and a woman named Jane who was going to the Canary Islands on vacation. We all decided to take advantage of the free wine and had three each. Even that did not help me sleep. We had a four hour layover in Amsterdam, where I spent a little time browsing the airport shops, tried to read a book, was too fatigued and excited to concentrate so I finally walked laps around the airport to enjoy the physical freedom before another long flight.

While on the flight to Kilimanjaro, I was in line for the bathroom and met a couple from Chicago who were traveling to Tanzania. This trip was vacation for them. They found out that I would be alone at the Kilimanjaro airport and offered to stay with me to make sure my ride showed up. That made me feel more relaxed. We arrived at the very quiet and small airport in Tanzania. My stress level increased as I attentively watched as the luggage arriving on the spinning belt. As my anxiety level increased, I finally spotted it. First hurdle has been crossed.

Once I was through the checkout area, I saw the welcome sight a young African man with a sign reading Cross Cultural Solutions. I rushed up to him and hugged the stuffing out of him - he seemed to handle the onslaught well. Perhaps other stressed out new volunteers have reacted similarly. There was another volunteer being picked up at the same time. Her name is Nicola and she is an eighteen-year-old from California who is volunteering in Africa, then in India. She was to be one of my new roomates in my new home.

It took about forty-five minutes for Simon, our driver to take us in the van to the house. Leaving the airport, the road was paved, but when we got into Moshi, the road was dirt and unbelievably bumpy and filled with ruts. It was very dark, so it was hard to see much. Then as we got more toward Rau, our new home village, the road was just a single lane and looked like more of a path in the foliage than a road. Simon gave a brief description and tour of life in Tanzania. When we were a couple of blocks from the house, we passed a larger building. He said it was a Muslim mosque. He said that they often have their prayers at around 4:00 AM over a loud speaker on the roof. He informed us that we might hear ththe prayers during the earlu morning. We wound around a few more "blocks" on the road and then we pulled up to the gate of the Cross Cultural Solutions (CCS) compound. The gate was electronic and had to be opened by the guard inside.

Let me describe my new home. The compound is really cute. It is kind of a West Indies style of design. It consists of several rooms each with an outside entrance. In the middle of it is a courtyard which is covered with a grass-thatched hut. Underneath are tables and chairs, a sink for hand washing, large electiec urn for heating water, a toaster and a water cooler to fill water bottles. The floor is a twelve-inch clay tile.

When Nicola and I arrived, there were two other volunteers, Julie and Anna sitting in the courtyard. After we introduced ourselves to them and chatted a bit, Simon brought us into a small, indoor living area and said Karibou" which means welcome. We were served a yummy fruit drink � could not tell exactly what was in it. At this point, I was aching and numb in mind and body.

Simon then took us to our room. The outside door to the room is glass with panes of black iron. It has a drape on the inside for privacy. The room itself is about fourteen by fourteen feet with four bunk beds and a small bathroom. There are four shelves and a small area to hang clothes.

I attempted to unpack, but was so lagged and shocked that I mainly just wondered around in circles. I did manage to get a few things unpacked and organized. I brushed my teeth and climbed up the ladder to the top bunk, lifted and tucked the mosquito netting and tried to settle in. It was uncomfortably hot in the room to begin with. With that and my sudden feeling of "Oh my God this is my home for awhile", I had trouble falling asleep. I did take two Benadryl to help that process and at some point I did sleep.

But that solace did not last long enough. At approximately four AM, I was awakened to the sound of a rooster crowing repeatedly. All his friends in the neighborhood answered him. This lasted until around 6:30. At that point, I could hear the chef making breakfast. I could hear the clatter of dishes, the sound of kitchen conversation - in a very foreign language and Tanzanian songs playing on a radio. Also, I also could hear that a few of the volunteers were awake and visiting in the courtyard. I battled in my mind the inevitable idea that I would no longer be able to sleep and the certainty that I would be experiencing profound fatigue later in the day. But my bladder and excitement won out and I crept of my netting and down the creaky ladder and went out into the courtyard to my new life.

I met Japhet, one of the staff members. A gracious happy man who as it turned out owned the set of feet I heard stepping patrol outside our door all through the night. I met Dana, a physician who specializes in rehabalitive medicine who has been Tanzania for three months. She is here on a grant to establish a clinic, which can be run by lay people to help people with disabilities.

Andrew, from Canada who will be twenty in a few weeks. He is a very interesting kid with quite a story. I do not know exactly what his story is, but there is definitely one there. A wisely, wounded soul. He was the most experienced of the volunteers and was awesome about giving us insight about the country and getting around. I also met Andrew and John who just arrived yesterday, are both Georgetown University students who are here for 11 weeks.

After breakfast, we just chatted and it appears that everyone is very wide open and very nice. After we socialized awhile, we decided to walk into Moshi. I decided that since I had not had a shower in over thirty-six hours, it was time to refresh a bit. Since water is kind of scarce, I had decided to take a quick shower. I learned that there was very minimal water pressure and I was not able to get the water to come out of the shower spiket. It turned out to be nothing but a birdbath, but I came out cleaner none the less.

We met in the courtyard and walked as a group into the neighboring, larger village of Moshi. We visited an internet cafe and here is the email I sent to my friends and family:

Sunday, Feb 6, 2005 - first email to home

Hi Everyone

I have made it to Africa and am feeling great. The trip was very long and tiring. 24 hours in all. A 4 hour layover on Amsterdam. But all went well, my luggage arrived and I met some really nice people along the way. Seveal women traveling alone to either volunteer or to go on Safari or climb Mt Kili. I felt very safe and comfortable - except a numb butt after such a long plane trip.

I am surprised at how good I feel today. I thought I would be just a fried, aching mass of sore muscles and in a zombie like state due to extreme lack of sleep, culture shock and jet lag. Actually, I feel very comfortable here and not a bit shocked. Just excited and curious and a little inept. I don't understand Tanzanian schilllings yet and had to have the women running the internet cafe count out the right denomination to pay for my internet usage. So, yes, there are things to learn and I am an anxious and willing student.

I got to the volunteer house at around 10:30 PM last night and got unpacked and settled in. The house itself is very charming and comfortable. There is a little outdoor courtyard where we eat and gather to visit. My room is tiny and since I was the last to arrive - I am on the top bunk. That is a difficulty with an old bladder and having to drink a lot of water each day to stay hydrated.

I awoke this morning to a rooster crowing at 4:00 AM. Then all his friends in the neighborhood answered him for the next 2 hours. Being an animal lover, I resisted the urge to ring his neck and finally at 6:30 AM, I got up. It was a happy sight to see that there were not bugs on my netting or in my bed. I have heard from the other volunteers that there are some real doozys. Also, the rainy season starts in about 3 weeks and I guess that brings out a lot of critters.

Than I had breakfast - fruit and a baked rolled up thing with veggies in it. It was really good. Met the other volunteers and we had a great talk. Very interesting and fun people. Then I took a cool "bird bath" - very low water pressure here. And I just know that I am going to forget and use the tap water to brush my teeth! Not a good idea here. I already know I have brought too much along with me. Yes, Gerry I will admit you were right. No need for makeup or primping here. Just get up, pull the hair back into a pony and go. Love it!

After that, we all walked into town - about a 20 minute walk. One of the volunteeers is a 20 year college student from Canada who has been here 3 months so he is showing us the ropes.

It is very safe to go out here - even alone. There were lots of villagers out walking, socializing and coming back from church. It is almost surreal. Women carrying baskets on their heads and babies on thier backs. The children are very excited to see us and say "Habari" with cute shy smiles. The adults have been very sweet and friendly. Also forgiving of our somewhat lame attempts at Swahili. I am already in love with these people. They have a joyful way about them which is magical to be around.

It is 85 degrees and sunny now, but that will be changing in a few weeks. I understand that it rains almost continuously in March - so I had better enjoy this now. I guess the mud is just incredible too.

The village is not what i pictured. It looks more westernized than I imagined - but not fancy at all. Mostly dirt roads which are very bumpy in spots. I was told that if I am walking, to definatley move out of the way of the "dala-dalas - which are trasport vans, because they will run anything over that happens to be in their path. They pack these vans to the hilt - it is not uncommon to have someone riding on laps. It looks pretty funny - like the packing people into a phone booth trick.

There are lots contrasts here in the village - some very rough looking buildings and some very nice looking ones too. Also, everyone here looks very happy and healthy. Already though I can tell that the way of life is much slower and simpler than ours. And, from what I can see so far, we Americans don't necessarily seem happier.

Right now I am at an internet coffee shop. Again, I am surprised at this modern cafe among such rough surroundings. And, this is air conditioned which is a nice welcome change. Our house is not airconditioned and I am not acclimatized yet, so it was a warm night's sleep. I am not complaining though - it feels great.

We can see Mt Kili if we climb up the watch tower on our property. It is amazing to see. Very big and snow capped. I hope to get there while I am in town.

Tomorrow, Mon, we have a lot of instruction on living here and my job at the orphanage. Then on Tues I will be at the orphanage. I cannot wait to get my hands on those babies. I am so exctited to get started.

I think that's enough for now. I hope you are all feeling well. I welcome e-mails from home.

Take care,

love Kristy

Back to my journal entry for Feb 6th:

In the afternoon were awaiting a supposed orientation at 3:00. In Tanzanian time, that actually materialized into five PM which was then rescheduled for tomorrow, Monday morning. So, we had a whole afternoon with nothing scheduled. As we were sitting out in the courtyard around the table, I had a sudden inexplicable urge to check my cell phone for messages. It was then realized that I needed to throttle back into a different pace.

Dana, the physician offered to take us to see some baby goats. It turns out they live at the house next door. We walked through a stable containing a huge cow with the floor slick with a mud, urine, shit mixture. That explained why I constatntly sensed the vague scent of manure � but in a pleasant earthy way. As we passed the cow, who mooed loudly, then urinated in a strong stream in our path. We proceeded into a little yard/pen containing several goats. There was a baby goat that was the size of small cat. It bleated in a little mini-goat voice as we took it away from its mom. The two little girls who live in the house were very amused with us mzungu (Swahili for white person) for thinking these serviceable animals were so cute. The girls were about five and seven, named Irene and Hosseana. They both had radiant smiles, shaved heads and bare feet � walking through the urine and goat pellets like little American kids walk on the beach. We were also introduced to their mom, Mama Nelson. She was very gracious, telling us Karibou � welcome.

Feb 11, Friday

I am really frustrated with my computer because I have lost some of my journal � argh. It will be hard to recreate it, since I don't remember what I said in it. But, fortunately, I have a few e-mails I have sent family and have them saved.

Today, Friday was the end of my first week. It has been a combination of difficult and good. Yesterday, I had a kind of down day � thinking that I was lonely and why the hell did I decide to do this?

Last night, we volunteers had a nice dinner and then walked over to see crafts which were made by the young men who live in a room in the back of Mama Nelson's house. The guys also work in Dana's workshop. Their names are Antoine and John and are in their twenties. Their room is very small and they do their cooking and sleeping in it. There was a futon which once we were in the door, they invited us to sit on to look at their crafts. Anton was chopping some fresh vegetables into a pot for his dinner. They showed us batiks � paintings on cloth for wall hanging, bracelets, rain sticks and other misc things. They gave us rafiki price � friend price. So, I bought 2 bracelets for my daughters, one for myself and a batik painting for home. While we were visiting, a cow mooed loudly right outside their window. Anton said "That is miserable when I am trying to sleep."

After that, We walked down to Deos, the little bar slash grocery store. It is just a short, dark, bumpy walk from home. We took a flash light to illuminate ruts, stones and turns in the road. At Deos, there were a few volunteers and several local people. The village chief was there also.

I had a nice visit with a local man named Ernest. He is about mid-thirties and has a sweet face. His English is good, but a little hard to understand for me. He showed me pictures of his wife and children � they were all really beautiful. Ernest is very knowledgeable about the local and national government and it turned out that he is an assistant to the village chief.

We were discussing religion and we found that we are both Catholic. He said that he would like to have me over to his house eat breakfast after church some day and meet his family. This is a little bit of a dilemma because in Tanzania, it is a big honor to have guests in the home � especially a foreign visitor. But, we have to be careful about what we eat and they do not understand this. But I also thought I might be out on Safari, so I could not come this weekend.

Okay, about daily life here. First, the room. It is small, but cute. The floor is red cement and the bathroom is tiled with an open shower with glass walls and a curtain for privacy. We are not supposed to put paper in the toilet due to low pressure, but forget and do it anyway and it seems okay. There is low pressure in the shower so water does not reach the shower head. So, I have to kneel into a yoga position to get under the faucet which is about 2 feet off the ground. I have tried filling the bucket with water to rinse, but find that I miss gettingthe water effectively on me, and I do better with the shower - yoga pose.

The top bunk has been mine, though 2 of my roommates are leaving tomorrow, so I will take over the bottom bunk. When I get into bed, I untie the mosquito netting from over my bed and pull it down and tuck it in around the perimeter. I have not seen any major bugs in my room yet, but I guess they come out in droves during the rainy season. In a way, the accomodations are like really nice camping. The walls are paper thin so if there is anyone in the courtyard visiting in the evenings, it is like being in a tent. My room is right next to the kitchen, so I can hear the chef and his assistants getting breakfast ready. Also, the dilemma about closing the bedroom windows is that if you don't, you hear the bark fests of the wild dogs as if they are in the same room or the famous rooster who crows starting around 2 AM. Bastard!!! But, if the window is closed, it is blazing hot.

The morning routine consists of all four of us roomates getting up at the last possible moment, then trying to get bathroom time and dress in the cubicle of a room. Breakfast is served in the courtyard which our rooms surround. It has a water cooler which is always full for us to keep our bottles full. There is a serving table and several tables pushed together with red checked table cloths and white plastic chairs. Breakfast is buffet style and consists of porridge which can either be oatmeal, which is good or a purple stinky smelling substance which I avoid. We also have a frozen mango mixture fruit juice, toast � you have to hold the toaster down to get it to work � eggs, and sometimes a bread wrap with some type of filling. I am always rushed during breakfast and rarely have time to drink more than a fourth of my cup of coffee. Maybe I can get off the stuff.

At 7:30, Simon our driver rings the bell for us to load the van. The van is supposed to hold 9-10 people, but ours is a Tanzanian Dahla-dahla style which translated means "Never too full for one more". So we are packed into this van for the hot, dusty, bumpy ride to all our jobs. I am the last to be dropped off at the orphanage and the first to get picked up, so I have a lot of van time.

I get to the Upendo orphanage at around 8:00 and at that time the kids and nurses are on the playground.

After our morning jobs, we get picked up at 11:30 and begin to pickup the other volunteers. Some days we get asked to get dropped off in Moshi to eat lunch, check e-mail, shop or take care of business. Or this week, we have had a lot of classes and orientation so we have only gone into town a couple of times. If we come back to the house, lunch is served at 1:00. Then we might have Swahili class, class on Tanzanian culture or other activities.

This afternoon I and some fellow volunteers, Anna, Sonja, aand a lovely young Tanzanian girl named Jesca went into town and went to lunch at the Chris Burger. They have these delicious filo wrapped beef or veggie filled things for about 40 cents. Coca Cola light is a dollar because only we wzungu drink it. After lunch we went to Kebo House which is a nice, westernized restaurant coffee/internet caf�. We e-mailed for about 2 hours, then had chocolate ice-cream. It was delicious and especially on this 90 degree day. I needed to get service for a cell phone I bought from another volunteer and make photo copies of my passport . Jesca walked with me to help me find the copy center, prevent me from getting hit by a cab and to interpret if needed. Then we took a cab home and between all of us it was only 500 schillings which is about 50 cents.

After we got home, I went running with Lindsey, a 23 year old volunteer from No Carolina who wants to go to med school. She took me down some little neighborhood roads. There were a lot of people walking home form work, school, etc, so it was crowded. Between that and the very bumpy surface, it took a lot of concentration to negotiate my way. And in Tanzania, it is important to greet everyone, so it is very unlike running at home. At home, you can get into your own world � zone, but here, there is no way to do that. It is really refreshing in a way that everyone has time to greet everyone they encounter. I came across a little boy dribbling a soccer ball which was worn out and deflated. He started running next to me and passed it to me. I'm not sure how, but in my hot, dehydrated, fatigued state, I was able to summon my old and not very good soccer skills and run along the bumpy, hard dirt road and pass the ball back and forth. All the time, he was coaching me in Swahili. Then it was time for him to turn back toward home, and he told me goodbye in English. After that, a bit hot and winded, I decided to take a break and walk. I encountered a group of teen-aged boys. They had seen me running and now walking and started signaling me to start running again - they were teasing me. I signaled back that I was tired and they just laughed. The other funny thing was some people would see us running and say "pole" which means sorry and Lindsey would reply "asante" which is thank you. I asked her why that conversation took place and she told me that when a Tanzanian sees someone having a hard time � carrying a heavy load, or working hard, they say "sorry" as a gesture of support or sympathy. I was glad to hear that explanation because I thought they meant that I looked sorry or that they felt sorry for me because I looked like I was struggling.

After 30 minutes or so of running, I needed to walk so Lindsey got me to a place where she could give me the rest of the directions home so she could keep running. But of course being directionally challenged, I missed my turn and wound up lost. I realized it when the scenery just did not seem at all familiar. I stopped a group of 3 women and said "Shikamoo" � a greeting used for older people and then I tried to introduce myself. "Mi mi ni Kristy" They seemed pleased that I was attempting to speak Swahili, but then I tried to ask if they knew where Deos (the bar-grocery store near my home) was. They looked puzzled, I became a little worried, but then a young guy came by and I knew he probably spoke English. He did and he walked me to the turn I thanked him and said goodbye.

First email to my family and friends

Wed, 28 Sep 2005 16:10:41 GMT

Sunday, Feb 6, 2005

Hi Everyone

I am surprised at how good I feel today. I thought I would be just a fried, aching mass of sore muscles and in a zombie like state due to extreme lack of sleep, culture shock and jet lag. Actually, I feel very comfortable here and not a bit shocked. Just excited and curious and a little inept. I don't understand Tanzanian schilllings yet and had to have the women running the internet cafe count out the right denomination to pay form my internet usage. So, yes, there are things to learn and I am an anxious and willing student.

After that, we all walked into town - about a 20 minute walk. One of the volunteeers is a 20 year college student from Canada who ahds been here 3 months so he is showing us the ropes.

It is very safe to go out even alone. There were lots of villagers out walking, socializing and coming back from church. It is almost surreal. Women carrying baskets on their heads and babies on thier backs. The children are very excited to see us and say "Habari" with cute shy smiles. The adults have been very sweet and friendly. Also forgiving of our somewhat lame attempts at Swahili. I am already in love with these people. They have a joyful way about them which is magical to be around.

The village is not what i pictured. It looks more westernized than I imagined - but not fancy at all. Mostly dirt roads which are very bumpy in spots. I was told that if I am walking, to definatley move out of the way of the "dali-dalis - which are trasport vans because they will run anything over that happens to be in their path. They pack these vans to the hilt - it is not uncommon to have someone riding on laps. It looks pretty funny - like the packing people into a phone booth trick.

Right now I am at an internet coffee shop. Again, I am surprised at this modern cafe among such rough surroundings. And, this is airconditioned which is a nice welcome change. Our house is not airconditioned and I am not acclimatized yet, so it was a warm night's sleep. I am not complaining though - it feels great.

We can see Mt Kili if we climb up the watch tower on our property. It is amazing to see. Very big and snow capped. I hope to get there while I am in town.

Tomorrow, Mon, we have a lot of instruction on living here and our jobs. Then on Tues I will be at the orphanage. I cannot wait to get my hands on those babies. I am so exctited to get started.

I think that's enough for now. I hope you are all feeling well. I welcome e-mails form home.

Take care

love Kristy

Africa journal week 1

Wed, 28 Sep 2005 16:09:20 GMT

Feb 9, 2005

Hi all

I so much appreciate hearing from you - helps with the little bit of a case of missing you.

I have too much to talk about and my fingers cannot even keep up.

First, I am feeling good and really love it here - especially the people. They are so incredibly friendly and kind and open. They are very patient and amused by feeble attempts at Swahili.

I have been at the orphanage 2 days now. It is called Upendo which means love. I am working with the toddlers to 3 year olds. When we first arrived in the van, the kids ran to greet us. I was wondering if they would be afraid of Mzungu - white people, but no, they wrapped themselves around my leg, and held their arms up to be held. They do not speak English, but is amazing how you communicate with body language. I today I was rocking about 8 of them on a little teeter totter and singing Old McDonald - had a few singing "ee i ee i oh!" very cute. They smile and laugh if I play peek a boo, or hold them - turn them up side down or jiggle them on my lap. They react the same as any little one would. The outdoor playground is mostly dirt, with a little grass. It has swings and a teeter totter and that is it. So, we have to get creative with entertaining them. I had brought a view master and once they understood how to look in it, they swarmed me saying "mi mi tena" (me again). This lasted approx an hour. Also, I had a balloon ball I brought. Played catch and had a few try to make off with the ball and had to chase them down. Definitely do not need a Stairmaster to get exercise here. One little boy named Pascal is very coordinated and we played soccer with the ball.

One goal was to prevent being peed or pooed on, with marginal success. Fortunately, they call the potty chair a pot. Easy to remember. I saw Esto, a cute four year old with an impish personality, holding himself so took him to the pot. As he did his business, Moodie, a busy little boy who seems to get into a bit of trouble withthe nurses, kept running his hands through the stream making them both laugh and I didn't' have enough hands to stop it. Made sure they washed with soap when we went in for morning milk. The helpers are girls ages 16-20 who are training to be "nurses" They wear bright pink dresses with a white apron. very shy and sweet - amused by us.

At 10:00 we all hold hands and go in for warm, reconstituted milk. The nurses sing African nursery songs - even harmonize - it's really beautiful. They are affectionate with the kids. A few months ago, when the first volunteers first started, apparently the nurses sometimes hit the kids to discipline, but the volunteer stopped them and I have not seen it. I will correct it if I do see it.

After morning milk, thy kids are placed on plastic pots until they go. It's kid of sad in a way, but with this many kids, it seems to work to get the potty training accomplished. then they play indoors in a little room. They hardly have any toys so resort to turning over the chairs and laughing as they bang them on the floor. I just sit down on the floor and let who ever needs a lap session come on over. Usually there are at least 2 or 3 at a time.

They eat lunch at 11:00 and it is a maize, milk and bean mixture. They really gobble it down.

I also worked feeding the little 12-18 mo old babies. Then, took them to change their wet "nappies". Then the nurses take them and line them up on pots. Little Noella was crying on the pot, so I was rubbing her back and singing "Twinkle twinkle". She quieted down and another one across the room started in - so I moved over to her. Meanwhile, Noella started in again. I looked over and little Lucy had scooted her pot over next to Noella and was rubbing her shoulder and patting her head. Another child came over and tried to hit Noella and Licy put her hand out to protect. Lucy is a twin and has braces on both her feet. I was saying to Noella "You're ok" And then Lucy started to say "You're ok". I really got tears in my eyes over that and said to Lucy "Mimi Kupendo we we" I love you. These kids touch my heart - you would love them too.

Many of these kids are ones whose mother has died and father cannot care for them. they drop them off at the orphanage. Sometimes they have a contract to take them back when they are older but sometimes they never show up and then the kids are adopted. Most of the kids are under 8 years - the older ones go to school. There is one little girl who is 12 who has AIDs. She will never be adopted because no one will want her and she will die within a year or 2. She does go to school though which is nice... Others have no parents and are immediately eligible for adoption. Unfortunately no one but a Tanzanian resident can adopt.

The kid's clothes are kind of interesting. There was a little one in pink pants and shirt - I asked the nurse what her name was and she told me "HIS name is Moody" Then I realized that all girls are in dresses and boys are in pants - even if they are girl colors. And since the clothes are all donated -a many from North America or Eurpoe, you will see little girls wearing a pink satin "Easter" dress - probably worn once by a little American girl for a special occasion and now worn by a little African girl to play in the dirt.

As far as other activities in our off time, CCS has kept us busy with Swahili lessons, cultural lessons and tours. We went by van to tour Moshi - the larger neighboring village. We went into a grocery store and bought a few treats. The ladies at the counter were so sweet and patient with us with our lack of understanding of the Schilling and our poor Swahili. most speak some English which helps.

There is a young woman named Jesca - age 19 who has been oming over and helping translate for some of us at her placement. She is a beautiful sweetheart. she has her hair very close cropped, a lovely, heart shaped face and a gentle spirit. She has finished through Form 4 secondary school and has taken national exams to move into Form 5 which is higher secondary school. She is very bright. She and I have bonded - she is my Tanzanian daughter. She told me that she will be my Valentine this year. She has invited me to go with her and her family to the little Catholic church in Rau. She took us all shopping yesterday in the market. This is an area I would not be comfortable going alone. Some of us women wanted to buy cloth to have a kanga (a wrap skirt which has a saying on the bottom to send a message for the day - mine says "All you need will be provided") Anyway, she negotiated a good price with us. It kind of makes me feel badly that we rich Americans are trying to get a low price, but I was told by a Tanzanian that is an insult if you do no try to bargain. So, I got cloth for a conga and a skirt for $6.50. Then we will take it to Mama Nelson, a tailor who lives across the road who will sew them for us. Jesca told us to watch our purses because "There are cruel people and they will steal your money".

Mama is the title to give a woman who is older than ones self. I get called mama a lot - nice. Mama Nelson lives across the road in a small stucco home. We visited her last Sun. she said "Karibou" - you are always welcome here". Her 2 daughters Irene and Hosseanna showed us the baby goats and their cow. They are very amused with us that we were holding and fussing over an animal. Animals are just food to them. I also found out that the culprit rooster who thinks that 2 AM is a Godly hour to awaken the neighborhood lives there. There are chickens and roosters walking all over the yards and roads - as well as goats.

Rau, where we are staying is a quiet, rural village. There are always people out walking and very few cars. The roads are narrow paths of bumpy, red dirt. They are lined with houses which are enclosed with stucco fences covered with Mimosa - beautiful pink flowering plants covered with thorns. To keep out the thieves. In the morning and at noon there are many children walking to school with their uniforms, back packs and large water jugs. They either carry them or put them on their heads. Each school has a different uniform and it is really fun to see the different ones. My favorite is the red dresses with the yellow collar and red stripped socks. The older kids in secondary school have started learning English. They love so greet us and show off their English. They will say "What is your name?" Or in the afternoon, they may say "Good morning". I hhave given up on correcting them on their afternoon, versus morning versus evening. They are having fun greeting us and their teachers will eventually teach them these greetings. They love us Mzungu. The other day I went running with two other volunteers. the kids were running along side us - holding our hands. Very cute.

Moshi, the bigger village is a whole different scene. It is crawling with cars and Dahla-dahals. They are crazy drivers and as a pedestrian you need to make sure you are out of their way. There also crowds of people walking the streets. The women do dress just as you would imagine - conga wraps or colorful shirts and blouses and head wraps. Some also wear western clothing. The outdoor market is loud and they come out with their products in hand saying Mama, mama or Mzungu. it is almost overwhelming.

Today we asked to be dropped off in Moshi to eat and check e-mail and look around town. After being at the orphanage, I am pee soaked and my hair is wild. The kids pulled on my bangs and my barrette and rubbed baby food in it. And the best thing is - I really don't care and neither does anyone else.

I have made a few Tanzanian friends - the staff for CCS is great. Mama Grace - our house mom, Mama Judith who is in charge of the grounds - she looks like Maya Angelou. she has a kindness about her. Mama Grace is spunky and very funny.

We are going to try to go on safari this weekend. We may pay for Jessica to come with us as a translator, but mainly because she has never been and it would be a huge thrill for her.

We may also run in the Mt Kili marathon - they have a 5 and 10 K. Think it would be an experience and also want the t-shirt. costs $3.00 to enter.

There is a little outdoor bar in our neighborhood called Deos. We go almost every night and have one 70 Cent Kilimanjaro beer. We have to be in at 11:00 and are usually ready for bed anyway.

Well, this is probably enough for now. I hope you are all well and having a good time in life.

Kwaheri - good bye and Mi mi Kupendo We We - I love you!

Kristy

Entertaining the kids during potty time.

week 2

Wed, 28 Sep 2005 16:08:21 GMT

Journal Feb 12

Field Trip

This morning several other volunteers, Anna, Sonja and I went with some local CCS volunteers, Jessica (she is the one I have mentioned before who is 19 and my Tanzanian daughter � very sweet), Antone and John who are in their 20s and are also local volunteers in our program. Anton is Denzel handsome and very intelligent. We paid the two guys to escort us to Arusha National Park. They had a friend who drove us in a range rover with a sun roof (he is in the tourism business). It was about an hour drive and we saw crowds of people going to Sat. market to buy and sell.

Once we got the park, Hans � the driver put up the sun roof and we stood on our seats to get a better view. We saw giraffes walking across the road, Zebras (2 of which were in the process of making baby zebras), water buffalo, monkeys swinging from trees. This is "au natural" - they were just chillin.

Once we got further in the park, we got out to take a hiking safari. There were several rangers who had these old rifles. I was wondering if we tourists really get that unruly, but as it turned out, it was in case the wart hogs or water buffalo decided to charge us.

The hike was absolutely incredible. I was within kissing, no spitting, no, I have to be honest, I was within stone throwing distance from a giraffe. Also we saw a beautiful waterfall and were in the foot hills of Mt Meru. Anna got her foot stuck knee deep in a bog and the guys were pulling on her which made it worse and coupled with her laughing, it took a while to free her. Then much to her chagrin, the well meaning guide took her water bottle and poured it over her shoe to wash it, then re-filled it with the giardia infested water from the stream. The scenery was beautiful and it was amazing to see these animals just in their natural habitat.

After the hike, we went into the market in Arusha and did a little souvenir shopping. This is the first time I have seen the Massai women. This tribe has their own land, own customs and own style of dress. These are the ones whose ear lobes are the only thing drooping more than their boobs. Also, they wear the beaded neck collars and some have tattoos on their faces. We are going to visit them in their village in a couple of weeks. They have natural healers, so if any of you want any natural medicines, I think I can buy them - let me know.

A visitor in my room�.

When we returned home, I went into my room and suddenly saw a lizard dart from behind the window. And true to prissy white woman form, I screamed and people came running including the night watchman. He was especially amused by my response. Now granted, this lizard was just a little fellow, but the thought of waking up with him staring at me from the other side of my netting was too much for me to take. So, I communicated to the watchman the help me get him out of the room, but without killing him. This required both of us chasing him around with brooms until we could guide him out the door. Next time, I'll just let him board with me. I wound up having the best night's sleep ever because of my roommates leaving, I have scored the bottom bunk and Dana, the physician left me her fan � huge score on that one. The only time I woke up was when the Mosque started their prayers over the PA on their roof at 4 AM. But, I just put in my ear plugs and went back to sleep - didn't even hear the rooster or the "marriage of the dogs" (as Tanzanians put it) that normally takes place every night.

Journal - Feb 13

In Africa, God does not hurry��

First I have to say that I have been treated as a queen today. My day started with Jesca walking to escort another volunteer, Anna and me for 8:00 mass. We walked along these narrow red dirt paths for about a mile and half. Being here is a little like being in the country, but there are a lot of homes with varying sized "lots". Some have an acre or so and others less. Every home has a garden/field. Right now they are planting maize and I have heard that in May, the maize is several feet high and it's harder to find your way places because the landmarks are not visible. There are no street names and really, many of these cannot really be defined as streets. Tanzanians give directions in terms of landmarks. Turn at the grocery store or the white house with the green door.

Jessica was scheduled to pick us up at 7:30 AM. Now you have to realize that "bongos" - the locals do not operate in the same way when it comes to time. Tanzanians are never late, they are merely delayed. So, Jessica picked us up around 7:50 which suited me fine because as you know, I operate more naturally on Tanzanian time than I do "muzungu" (white people) time. If there is an event that you really need to be punctual, we say "meet me at 7:30 � muzungu time". Then the person knows they have to come at exactly the right time � well sort of anyway.

So, since church was a good 20-30 minute walk � because Tanzanians do not walk fast (I could have covered it in 15 min), we arrived at church around 8:20. But, "hakuna matata" � no worries, the priest did not arrive until 8:40. Now I want to describe this church. It is next to a cornfield and you can hear a cow lowing along with the choir from to time � she added a nice base tone to the music. Anyway, we heard the church before we saw it. The choir was singing a lovely African hymn. And, this hymn lasted about 20 minutes � all the songs were very long- but beautiful. The church was just a roof with no walls and lots of benches and a dirt floor. It was packed with around 400 people. The children do not sit with the adults, but play in the dirt at the back of church. The church is only about a year old, so they are still trying to get enough money to build walls and buy more benches. There is a pile of cement bricks sitting just outside the church and when it grows enough, they will start to build walls. We did not have a bench and we told Jessica we were fine standing, but she went to a nearby house borrowed a bench. She put it down and wiped the dust off with her bandana. She so delighted to have us there and said, "It is amazing you are here".

The apparel is part of the experience. Everyone wears their best clothes. For some, their clothes are a very nice skirt and blouse, for others, it is a well-worn conga with more than one hole in it. A few of the young girls, including Jessica wear more western clothing. The little girls wore frilly little dresses, many you can tell have been passed down many times over, but they are the best they have. I did notice there were not nearly as many men compared with women and children. Some of the men were in the area at the back of the church � probably to allow the women to sit.

Once the priest arrived, mass officially started. The altar was a wooden platform with four poles which were about ten feet tall. A white cloth with lace at the top was draped on three sides of the altar and attached to the poles. It was decorated with boughs of fake flowers, and there were some orange and white crochet lace doilies hanging in a few spots. There were four altar boys dressed in white gowns. Mass lasted until around 10:00. Can you imagine 400 Americans wearing no antiperspirant, sitting on hard benches in 86 degree weather, packed together shoulder to shoulder for that length of time without inciting a riot?

The music was absolutely beautiful I really enjoyed it. Of course mass was in Swalili so I only understood a few words. And just like in America, they had a second offering collection. I was more than happy to contribute. It was a wonderful experinece and again it struck me how happy these people are with so little and such hard lives. It's the small things in life that count for them. But really the big things if you think about it; friends, hospitality, family and faith.

After mass, we met the priest and he invited us to the rectory on Thursday. The Tanazinian men remind me of that guy who sings "You put the lime in the coconut�even though I think that guy is Jamaican). They have such a joyful way about them and just a great sense of humor too.

After mass the children all came in and sat down for a children's mass. We said habari � hello to them and they were giggling at us and so excited to see us � we were the only white people there.

The honored guests�.

When we were finished socializing, we walked to Jessica's house. I would not be able to walk to any of these places on my even if there was a cold dish of chocolate ice cream awaiting me. And this is not so much due to my challenge with direction, but the fact that unless you live here, it just a tangle of paths, fields and trails.

Jessica's house is a very nice one in terms of Tanzania and apparently her family is considered wealthy. It is a stucco building with three windows in the front. The windows are decorated a white frilly metal latticework. The yard is mostly the hard red dirt. We went around the back of the house to go inside. In the back of the house are the animal pens. They have four cows, around 12 pigs, and lots of chickens. All of the chicken here is free range. They also have a dog and Anna was talking to it and petting it. Jessica was laughing about that. She said, "In America you, treat your dogs as babies. For us � only watchdog to keep out thieves."

Her mama, Digna and her sister and cousin were outside preparing our lunch. They were so happy to see us and welcomed us over and over. I think I mentioned before that people are honored to have guests in their home and especially ones who are not local. I've never in my life felt so honored and welcome in any place. They do not have a kitchen, they do all the cooking outside over a fire. They were busy chopping vegetables and fruit.

While we waited for lunch, - they would not hear of us helping at all � we went next door to Jessica's grandfather's home. Her grandfather is dead � possibly due to the fact the he had 2 wives. Yes, here it is legal to have more than one wife, but from what I can tell, most only have one � especially if they are Christian.

I have heard that Jessica's family is considered wealthy. Inside their house, there is a living room with upholsted furniture with wooden arms and legs and a cement rather than dirt floor. There is a sheet of linoleum that is laid down over the middle of the room � kind of like an area rug.. In the middle of the room was a coffee table, which is what we used to eat on. That was the only room I saw. Jessica told us that she has 2 younger brothers and two sisters. Her older sister is at University and plans to become a teacher. She has a three-year-old girl named Irene who lives with Jessica's family. By the way, all these names such as Irene, Jessica are baptism names. They all have African names too. Jessica sleeps in a tiny room with at least 4 other women and girls.

Also living with the family is her father Charles, and mother Digna. They also take care of a young woman named Flora whose mother died when she was a little girl and was adopted by this family. Flora has a little boy named Kevin and her husband left her right after she had her baby. They have 14 people in all living in this house. They also have a houseboy and a maid. Jessica's family also takes care of several relatives financially and may not be able to send Jessica to her final 2 years of school called form 5 and form 6. It costs $120.00 a year. We volunteers want to help her because she is such a bright, sweet person. She wants to become a lawyer because "There is bribes in the government and I want to minimize". Also, she told me she hurts for the women and children and wants to work to improve their conditions. If she can get the money for form 5 and 6, Government University is free.

As we were waiting for lunch, Jessica brought in a TV � about a 19-inch. It took awhile for them to get it plugged in properly and working, but finally got it turned on. I was not really excited about it, but it actually turned out to be very entertaining. They can only get one channel. The program was a Nigerian soap opera which was dubbed with English. It was the worst acting I have ever seen coupled with the mismatched effect of the speech patterns. Then the show Perfect Strangers was on. That was kind of surreal, sitting in Africa and hearing the combination of American TV, chicken, cow and goat sounds mingling together. What an experience.

After we were served chai (which is the African word for tea � did you know that?) The tea is hot milk from their cow, a spicy tea mixture and sugar � delicious. Digna cooks for our organization so she understands about our muzungu digestive systems. Lunch was chopped mangos (they are in season), tomatoes, cucumbers and oranges. We were served a delicious rice dish with carrots, potatoes, onions and beef chunks. Also something that looked and tasted likes cooked spinach but they had another name for it. They insisted on dishing up another helping for us and even though it was really good, I was full. But I stuffed it down because the last thing I wanted to do was waste already scarce food that they were so gracious to serve us.

After they cleared the dishes � and again would not allow us to help � mama Digna brought out a platter with several bottles of soda pop � orange, lemon lime and Pepsi. She was delighted to serve this to us and so I drank a warm, sugary orange soda whether I wanted to or not.

I have realized that I cannot be in a hurry at all when living in Tanzania. By the time lunch was over, it was around 3:00 and I noticed I was feeling ansey. But we were the afternoon's entertainment and they were in no hurry for us to leave. And of course they must have a lot of work to do, but people are more important than tasks. Hmmmm � food for thought. There were several small kids at lunch and they sang us a cute African song with actions � very shyly and quietly as we have all seen kids do. Then we taught the kids, along with mama Digna the chicken dance. Mama Digna really got a kick out if that and we wound up repeating it many times for her benefit. She had a conga wrapped over her dress and lost it sometime during the dance. We decided that it means you had a good time if you lose your conga.

A good nap��.

After lunch and a thirty-minute goodbye we had an entourage to escort us home. That was followed by many more thank yous, your welcomes and promises to meet again soon.

When I got back to the compound, I was exhausted. I took a two-hour nap. It was the best nap I have ever had. When I woke up, four of the volunteers came back from a weekend safari. They were sun burned and covered in red road dust. I think another group is going next weekend and I plan to go along then. I was glad to have a less busy day today � well sort of.

Training for the Moshi 5 K race�.

Then a group of us decided to go for a run. The Moshi race is in 2 weekends. Now running here is totally different from home. First, it is probably 88 degrees, next, the roads are treacherous with ruts, potholes, rocks and all kinds of people. The other thing is you cannot just get into a quiet zone and block out the rest of the world. This is because you must greet each and every person you encounter. This requires looking around so you don't miss anyone, while looking for the least hazardous area of the road to navigate. It feels like running through the woods, except instead of evergreens, maples, sumac and dogwoods, there are banana trees, acacia trees, and flowering mimosas interspersed with houses, gardens, animal pens, little stores and businesses and of course chickens, donkeys and goats along the road.

Actually, I must digress here. I was running the other day with another volunteer, Lindsey. As we went along, people would sometimes say "pole" which means sorry and Lindsey would say "Asante" thank you. I couldn't understand this but she explained that here, people say sorry if it looks as if a person is working hard - for example carrying a heavy load. So, here we were feeling good, looking strong and we were actually invoking pity. A little ego deflating. Also, while I was running, a 10-year-old boy ran along side me dribbeling a deflated, flat old soccer ball. He started passing it to me. Somehow an angel took over my feet and I was able to summon my old meager soccer skills, watch for ruts, run and pass the ball back and forth while he coached me in Swahili. Later I was joined by a pair of skipping, giggling little girls and did a couple blocks of skipping and hand holding with them. Yes, running here is a different and enjoyable experience.

Passing the evening�..

After the run I went inside our little living room area. It has a tile floor, which worked pretty well for yoga. I did a little of that and heard the bell for dinner. Tonight, we had a breaded, fried eggplant, mashed potatoes, a green bean/carrot mix, stringy beef and mango. Meals are served in an outdoor courtyard in the center of the compound and are completely organic. It feels like "nice" camping. You can always smell a fire burning because that is how people cook their food.

Now I am sitting at the table in the courtyard, typing my journal. It is a beautiful night and really just enjoying being outside. I spend most of my time outside if I can. When the rains start in a couple of weeks, that will be a different story. Oh and another thing about nights here. I don't know if it has to do with our location in the universe or the fact that there are no streetlights here, but the stars are absolutely incredible. I swear there are more of them here and they are brighter. It almost looks like I am sitting in a planetarium and viewing them. I hear crickets, a bird singing and an occasional dog barking, but otherwise it is very quiet and peaceful.

So that is it for now. I hope you are doing well and feeling healthy.

I may play my (actually Shre bear's) flute and then I am going to hop into my mosquito net and go to sleep. Work tomorrow.

Lala Salama��.Sleep safely

Journal Feb 14 � Happy V-day!

A day's work�.

I awoke at 7:00, had breakfast and boarded the van for work. We manage to fit anywhere form 12-16 people in this 10 passenger van. Along with the CCs volunteers, there are usually a few additional people going with us. The ride is extremely hot, skin to skin sticky, dusty and bumpy. I am the last to get dropped off at the orphanage. When I got there this morning, as usual, the kids had heard the van and were crowding around for Julie (another volunteer) and I go get out. Then they swarm us, some want to be held, some want us to go play and some just bury their head in between my knees and wipe their noses on my skirt. This definitely makes me feel needed.

I spent some time talking to Sister Emaculatta about the possibility of me teaching a class to the young "nurses" about how to handle, nurture, discipline and potty train the kids. She told me that I can help to teach these girls and they may have a lasting impact on the quality of care there. She also showed me more of the grounds. They have cows, but due to lack of rain and lack of grass so not get enough milk. They have to mix the cows milk with powdered. They also have chickens, pigs, and a vegetable garden. Sister told me that they do not have any financial support on an ongoing basis. It is all on donations. Since the Tsunami, donations have dwindled due to recourses going over there. They need clothes, shoes, "nappies for the babies, and toys. If anyone has any ideas on how to get support on an ongoing bases, let me know.

Then I went into the toddler kid's room and bounced a couple of little ones on my lap. Then came in from the playground with the kids to wash hands, put the kids on the pot and change pants if needed. Then it was morning milk. After that, we have to stay in because the sun is too strong. That is the hardest part of the day because the kids are getting hungry and there are only a few toys in this room. The nurses bring in the plastic pots and have the kids taking turns peeing. Unfortunately, this is only marginally successful and there are usually a minimum of 2-3 puddles on the floor. Today, I was holding Damian and Philipo on my lap and when I got up, there was pee dripping off my skirt, down my leg and on to the floor � and I was pretty sure it was not mine. The nurses got me a towel and soap and one of the women who worked there insisted on giving me a pair of her pants to wear for the day. I was grateful. I played catch and soccer with 3 boys at once and then it was time for lunch. I fed Damian who is disabled and cannot feed himself. He is very sweet, is cross eyed and loves to cuddle. So yes, there are challenges, but I feel these kids need me there and I hope to make a difference.

After work, I went to Carina's, a little grocery store. The stores here don't have much because people grow their own food and don't need to buy much. But I bought a jar of Nutella � a hazelnut spread which is the most sinfully delicious thing on earth. It is my v-day gift to my fellow volunteers. Then I came to Kebo House which is a little restaurant - coffee - internet caf�. Later today we have Swahili lessons.

Journal #3

Wed, 28 Sep 2005 16:07:35 GMT

Journal Feb 15^th

Last night � VD celebration�

I was aware that it was Valentine�s day, but was not enthused really for my Valentine was not with me here. Only in my heart. So, to my surprise, Andrew and John, who are Georgetown University students and call me mom, invited all the women of the house out to dinner. Nicola, y 18 year old roommate insisted on dressing me up (she calls me mom also) and I agreed thinking, �Well, if I look like a fool, no one will even notice or care�. But actually, she had a very cute pair of black pants and shirt and even shoes for me to borrow that I would love to own. It was nice to clean up and feel civilized for a night even though I have enjoyed not fussing with all that.

We went to the roof of the Kandaroka Hotel and had a full view of snow capped and really, really tall Mt Kili. It was amazing. We had wine, but the server did not know how to open it and Andrew had to use the corkscrew from his Swiss Army knife to dig it out. Those things really are handy aren�t they � life saving sometimes. We ordered five dishes to share and two and half-hours later, the dinner had not come and Anna and I had to leave because I was expecting a call from Gerry. I had a marathon bar and Pringles for dinner. When the rest came home they told us they did not get what they ordered and it was cold. But, we all said it was a really fun night and an African experience.

Also, on VD, the most touching thing happened. Digna, the woman who had us over for lunch on Sunday gave me a Valentine�s present. It was a clear plastic case and in it was a little glass swan that said I love you Valentine. So sweet. I bought everyone a group gift :Nutella�. If , you don�t know, Nutella is a chocolate hazelnut cream that tastes good spread over everything on earth - and I mean everything. Find me something that does not taste exquisite with Nutella and I�ll eat it, because I won�t believe it.

The day�

Today was actually uneventful considering I am living in a third world country without my family and friends. I really miss everyone, but I feel I am doing some good here and I am enjoying my time. I have also really enjoyed the other volunteers. It is one of those situations where I would probably not have picked them out or come together with them on my own, but when thrown together, find I really am happy to know them.

I am the oldest of everyone here by ten years. Next in line is Anna who is a 37 year cellist and base player from Atlanta, who also teaches these instruments and restores bows. She is really a character and she is as kind and generous a person can be. The next oldest is Julie who is a cosmetologist and Mormon from Salt Lake and she works at the orphanage with me. She is also really sweet and she is totally nuts and cracks us all up. There are several college students who are using this as their study abroad experience. They are all extremely smart and also really nice and fun to be with. Nicola is my 18-year-old roommate and is from San Diego. She is a competitive horse jumper � not the proper terminology � and is going to India for 4 weeks after this to volunteer. Another noteworthy person is Sonja. She was delayed in arriving in Tanzania because she is a Philly Eagles cheerleader and was in the Super Bowl. She arrived three days later than the rest of us. I, in dismay was picturing a dizzy young blonde and much to my surprise and delight, she is a very intelligent, mature and fun person. Enough so that I don�t hate her because she looks perfect and beautiful with no makeup and a pair of sweats. She is a black American (she prefers not to be called African American because really most black people could come from one of several areas which had a slave trade) Sonja is a grad student in public health.

Okay, so that is the other volunteers in a nutshell. Today I was at the orphanage for work and it was a good day because I had fun with the kids and no one peed on me today. I brought out the view master I brought with me and those kids can look endlessly at the pictures � some are naming what they say in Swalili which I could listen to endlessly. It is so cute when kids speak Swahili. I also played soccer with Estomenie and a little girl named Anna, who preferred throwing to kicking, so we switched to that. Also, there is a girl named Lillian who is teaching me to count to 10 in Swahili and I am teaching her to do so in English. She is a very smart little girl with intense eyes. She was also the last to warm up to me, but she I realized she likes to sing and count rather than be cuddled, we have gotten along famously.

Also, I am getting a plan together for guidelines on teaching the young nurses how to take care of children. Also, I want to find some ways to get some steady funding for this orphanage. They are run by the Precious Blood Sisters and they rely solely on donations which have become scarce. There are many people back home who�ve offered support here and I told them I would find out what was needed and let them know. Well, I think this is a definitely worthy cause and it is unique because they have no way of generating revenue. I don�t know how we could get a group of toddlers to do something which would earn steady income (if only pee could marketed in a constructive way).

After lunch, we went to town to change dollars into schooling. The money thing is really weird here. 1,000 Schooling is equivalent to one dollar. So, I have to be careful because it does not feel like real money � more like monopoly money and I don�t want to spend it as such or I may have to work until I�m 80 to make up for my spending in Africa.

We returned to town for Swahili lessons with our teacher Hedwig. Some of these names really crack me up. Hedwig is a 50-year-old teacher who is very intelligent and a great sense of humor. Good thing too, because we have been a little silly at our lessons and she has dealt with it and managed to teaches a few things in the process. Swahili is easy in the sense that it sounds like it is written in most cases � nothing tricky. The only part for me is just memorizing and figuring out pronouns, etc. I figure if I get the basics and a word vocabulary, I will be doing well.

After that, John wanted to go running and I had been shown a really nice route by another volunteer and he wanted me to show him. Unfortunately, I missed a key turn and we went about a mile down the road the wrong way before I confessed that this was not at all familiar. We turned around and were heading back and it was starting to get dark. I would have been uncomfortable had I been alone, but the problem is that the roads are so never the danger was in navigating that without an ankle turn. All of the sudden a man calls out �John�. The person behind the voice was a young man who was a friend of John (Tanzanian Jonn) and Anton who are the local volunteers. It is so funny that we have been here less than 2 weeks and randomly run into people we know. That hardly ever happens to me even in cub foods on Maple Groove. The guy�s name was Gabby and he insisted on escorting us all the way back to CCS. People are so ready and able to go out of their way at any time, no matter what they are doing to help someone out.

After we arrived home, dinner was in progress and we were just in time. Tonight it was a beef and gravy, guacamole, potatoes, cooked spinach and fresh fruit. I can�t believe it, but I think I am gaining weight in a third world country. The food is so good and I am so hungry when mealtime comes around. After dinner, I did some laundry. We have a basin in our bathroom that we hand wash our clothes and hang dry. Washers and dryers are unheard of here.

So now I am sitting in the little living room with the windows open and writing my journal. Tomorrow, we are missing work to go on a CCS sponsored field trip. We will see the Chagga village � they are an indigenous tribe and hike a waterfall. If time allows, we will be able to go to the foot of Mt Kili.

journal #4

Wed, 28 Sep 2005 16:06:32 GMT

Africa Journal # 4

Today is Tues Feb 21

I am finally getting around to writing my journal. I have not had the opportunity to do so until tonight. During each day, I tell myself "Oh, I have to remember this moment, or I have to remember this conversation." And there are hundreds of these every day, so it is nearly impossible to recall all of them. But, I will give it my best.

Wed Feb 16th Field Trip

Today, CCS planned a trip for all the volunteers so we all played hooky from our jobs. We loaded into the van as usual, shoulder to shoulder and took off. Our first destination was a local market. We were instructed to go into the market, interact, buy items if we wished, but not to take pictures. This market was not for tourists, but for locals (bongos) to get the items needed for their daily living and we didn't want to make them feel they were on display. But I have to say, this was a vivid picture and would have made a wonderful photo. The market was outdoors and was set up in a wide-open space. All of the goods were spread out on the ground on colorful cloths. There were fruits and vegetables, clothing such as shoes, pants, shirts, etc and cloth to make dresses, etc. It was a crowded, moving swarm of color and sound with Tanzanians of all ages, doing their business. It was difficult to make my way through the flood. The noise level was also high due to people greeting one another and bartering, sometimes with much vigor.

My bartering skills�

I decided to buy some cloth, which was a small challenge due to my rather meager Swahili vocabulary. But, I gave it my best. "Shi linge gapi? Or "How much is it?" And once I got a response, I had to count aloud on my fingers in Swahili (moja, tatoo, mbelie, nne, tisa � and that's as far as I can remember) verify that I understood the number correctly. If I got stuck and I usually get stuck on the number five for some reason, they would laugh with me and then help me by counting to ten with me in Swahili. So, after I verified the asking price, it was time to negotiate. As I have probably mentioned before, it is considered an insult not to barter. During this process, it is important to let them know that you are not a tourist, but living in the country, so the next thing to say is "Punguzi bei" which means "give me the local price". When I said that, the woman with whom I was negotiating with was tickled that I knew that term, laughed and gave me a high five, then refused to lower her price. This went on for a while, and finally she came down a little. So, I caved and gave her my mzungu money at a "non-local" price.

We stopped at a blacksmith on our way to the Chagga village (one of the two dominant tribes in the area). I was amazed by the fact that these men were squatting all day in front of a fire in 90-degree weather, working very hard and hardly sweating. I think we were sweating more than they were.

After the market, we went to a Chagga cave. There are two major tribes in the area; the Chagga and the Massai. In the 1700 � 1800 era, these two tribes were in war. Our tour guide, Folgence told us they fought over two things "Cows and women." The war apparently ended sometime in the 1980s (I'll have to verify that time frame) when the German missionaries came over.

But during the wars, the Chaggas built caves in which to hide when they felt they were in danger. The cave entrance was basically a ten-foot drop and we had to use a ladder to descend. Once inside, it was pitch black and we could not stand up. There was a guide awaiting us at the floor of the cave with a flashlight so we could finally see. And had we been able so see better, we would have realized that the floor of the cave was covered in bat dung. We had to travel down a tunnel using the crab walk to get to the "kitchen" area. This consisted of a shelf for storing utensils and food, a fire pit and a "chimney". The chimney just appeared as a hole in the wall, but what we could not see was that it was several hundred feet long. It ended in the Chagga's hut so if the enemy came and saw smoke, they would think it was coming from the fire, which they had built in the hut.

These caves were dug by the women and children and took about 8-10 years to complete. They started digging by the river so they could haul the dirt into the river and not are discovered due the presence of large dirt mounds. The tunnel to the cave was at least a hundred feet long. The cave also contained sleeping quarters and a nifty little area to store the dead bodies of the enemy until there was an opportune time to take them to an area where their tribesmen could discover them.

After the cave, we went into a Chagga village. These round homes are made of branches, grass and mud. Inside, it was very dark, except the embers of the fire from the inhabitant's breakfast. There was an indentation - shelf like area with a straw mat for sleeping, an area for livestock (they bring them every night) and an "attic" to store wood during the rainy season and to store extra food such as bananas. There were several of these homes with people currently living there. Very different than the homes I have been seeing in my little village. Also, each family's property is marked by a row of totem plants which not only act as a natural divider of their lots, but also they are a sacred plant to the Chagga people. It is against the law to chop one down.

After visiting the village, we had a box lunch and then hiked down to Marangoo Waterfall. This hike was very steep, but filled with beautiful green trees and foliage. It ended at a river with a huge waterfall and pond which descends from Mt Kili. I was so hot by then that even though I didn't have a swimsuit, I went in with my clothes on. The water was shockingly cold, but totally worth it. There were about four local boys, swimming in their underwear. They scurried effortlessly up the side of the waterfall and jumped once they were about half way up � about twenty feet. A couple of our volunteers climbed cautiously and slowly up � and these boys were terribly amused to see these Mzungu having such trouble with task that is as effortless as walking to them. I wondered if these boys had any idea how beautiful and fabulous their playground was.

African Disco

Although we were exhausted and sunburned, we went into Moshi after dinner to Pub Alberto. We walked in the door and the five of us raised the number of patrons by about 50%. We had a beer, did group dancing and were home by curfew � 11:00. By ten-thirty, there were a few more people at the disco � all men except a fifty-year-old white guy with two hookers. That guy was very inebriated and was all over the two women � ick - pathetic. Also, all the men were dancing together. An interesting thing in Tanzanian culture � it is a common sight to see two men � of any age holding hands in friendship. Also, I have had several people � men and women alike walk with me and hold my hand. The thing that is never seen in public is romantic affection between men and women. That is taboo and is only for in the privacy of the home.

Thursday Feb 17^th

A visit to the rectory

Dahala-dahla adventure�

After lunch, Jessica and I were invited to go to the rectory to meet the parish priest. We walked about a half-mile down the road to catch the dahla-dahla (the public transport van) I think I have mentioned this before, but the definition of dahla-dahla is "never too full for one more". There is no schedule for these, so Jessica informed me that we might have to wait one or two hours. We sat down at a small outdoor caf� and waited in the shade. At one point Jessica asked one of the women working at the caf� when they thought the next one could come. She said it would not be too long. I asked Jessica how this woman knew this and Jessica said that they watch all day and just have a sense for when the next one for a certain direction will come. And thankfully, it was true. About twenty minutes later up pulled the van, packed to the hilt, but of course with room for two more. When we got in, Jessica handed our water bottles to woman who sitting on the front seat.

These people have a very cooperative system for entering, exiting and riding in the van. We stood up and it was so packed that I had to turn my feet at a certain angle so I could fit. And when someone exits the van, a few people have to hop out and the person leaving points out where their parcels are in the overhead bins. Someone takes out the packages, hands them out the window or down the line to reach the owner. Then, as the van takes off, the people still outside it run along side it and jump on. Once I had to step out and I made sure I got right back on because I was unsure of my ability to time the run and jump just right and did not want to end up under the tire as a "dahla-dahla cake".

We got off at a stop near the parish and walked a block or so to the church. This church was an older, more established building than the one I visited a couple of weeks ago, complete with roof, walls and even artwork. It was beautiful. Jessica asked an older gentleman whose name was Alphonzo if Father Joseph was in. He held my hand and walked me to the rectory.

Father Joseph told us he was glad we had come and that in fact, he had almost forgotten we were coming. He is a jovial man in his 40s. He told us that he had already done one mass and a funeral and was headed to do another mass at another church. He has three churches he is in charge of. I asked him if he had an associate and he explained that he did have an associate, but he was in the hospital dying of cancer. Very sad. I asked if he would get a replacement for him and Father Joseph said that it would not be discussed while the associate was still living so he would not think he was unneeded.

Father Joseph brought out warm bottles of sprite which I did not want to drink, but as I have mentioned before, it is important to Tanzanians to offer food or refreshments, so of course I accepted it and drank it down. Oh how I miss ice. He also had us sign a guest book. That is another thing I have noticed. In Tanzania, whenever you visit a public place or institution, they like to have you sign their book. I think they are proud to have all these guests. Father Joseph's book was filled mostly with priests from Africa, Europe and the US. We had a nice visit and then he had to go so he could be "on time" for his next mass. For a man who is over worked and fatigued, he is a cheerful and gracious man.

I asked Jessica how far it would be to walk home and she said about 3 kilometers. I was thinking that we cold walk that easier than we could wait of an indeterminate amount of time for the next dahla-dahla. So, we decided to hoof it. It was kind of a hard walk, because of course the roads are filled with rocks and ruts and it was in the 90s for temp. As we walked, we met a lot of people and many of them wanted to talk to me because they don't see that many mzungu. It is kind of funny how the people here react to my Swahili. It is with a combination of appreciation that I have put effort into learning and some amusement. What typically happens is we start with basic greetings, then if they say something I don't understand I say "pole" (sorry) kidogo (little) Swahili. And they will smile in understanding. Or sometimes they tell me what my reply should be.

Mzungu know everything about everything�

We met an older lady on the road that day and went through this procedure. Then when she realized that I didn't know any more Swahili, she said something to Jessica. Jessica told me that she was encouraging me to keep practicing. Then the woman and Jessica continued to have a long conversation. Afterward, I asked Jessica what was said. She told me that she had informed the woman I was from America and was working in the orphanage. She said the woman said I was a good person for doing that. Then the woman had told Jessica that she could not see to read small print anymore and wondered if I could help her. Jessica explained that people here think mzungu know everything about everything and I explained that of course that is not true at all. A lot of Tanzanians think that mzungu are superior to them and that we are all rich. I am working to dispel the myth.

Going visiting�

As we continued on our journey, we passed the home of another older lady who turned out to be the second wife Jessica's grandfather. She invited is into her home and wiped the bench us to sit. She and Jessica had a long conversation before we left. Jessica had asked her why she didn't visit their home as often and her grandmother explained that she has had trouble with the pressure (I think blood pressure) and rheumatism.

We got a little further down the road and I was thinking I really needed to get back to do some clothes washing and journaling, but I have realized that when you go visiting here, you cannot plan when you will return home. People here can stop in at any house at any time � even a stranger. They just say "hodi" which is the Swahili version of "yoo-hoo" and then go on in the door.

So as we continued on our way, we passed the shop and home of Mama Tunamaini who is Jessica's aunt and were invited in for a visit. Also, Mama's younger sister, Lucy had a new baby and was staying with Mama T for two months to recover. We went into the back bedroom to visit Lucy and her baby, Glory. There were five other women and another baby (named Catherine � a very good name I think � she is a little doll too � just like another little Catherine I know). They were all sitting in this tiny room which had only a bed and a table. They were very welcoming to me and went into the living room to get a chair for me. At that point I abandoned altogether the idea of when I would get back to CCS and decided to enjoy the moment. I held the new little baby for a while until she got hungry.

Lucy, the new mom had lost her first child. She was having the baby at home (as they usually do), but she was having extreme pain and they brought her to the hospital. It turned out she had placenta previa and they tried to do a c-section, but the baby died just a few minutes before they could deliver her. Lucy lost a lot of blood and almost died as well. This struck me because if she lived in America, that both mom and baby probably would have lived. As we were leaving Mama Tunamaini's house they all said "Karibou, you are always welcome". Again it strikes me how honored I feel whenever I am at someone's home.

Honey Badger

That evening, CCS took us to the Honey Badger which is a cultural center for dinner, African drumming and dancing. We sat at tables outside and outdoors and had a delicious meal of chicken, vegetables, cabbage, flat bread, watermelon and rice.

The dancers came out to the tables and pulled us up on the stage with them to dance. Now, these women have a special way of moving, especially their hips which they must learn from birth. There was no way that any of us could come close to being able to dance like them. The only instruments they used were clapping, singing and drums. We were joking that they were probably singing

"These white people have no rhythm�hey oh hey oh�"

"It s fun to try to make them look really silly�hey oh hey oh."

We got a huge laugh out of Jessica over this and could never get her to tell us what they were really singing because she started laughing every time she tried. We had fun trying to dance and when I exited the stage a woman who was at least 70 (who could really move by the way) kissed me on the cheek. It is a Chagga tradition to kiss hello and goodbye on each cheek. I am growing used to being kissed.

I was sitting at the table with Mama Grace who is a staff member for CCS. She previously worked for the peace corp. She is a very interesting and bright woman with a great sense of humor. She was confiding to me that her 17year old son has been invited by a previous volunteer to live in Minnesota with her and go to school. Grace was worried about a number of things regarding this. She told me that she has known others who have done this and have lost their culture and dropped out of school. Then them come back to Tanzania in shame. She also asked me about how much racial prejudice there was in the US. I did my best to explain to her that yes, it exists, but that there are many people who are not racially bigoted as well. Then we talked about the fact that it is always hard to let your kids go on their own. We found common ground in that we are both moms who love and want the best for their kids.

After dinner, the owner of Honey Badger, Mama Lucy came to our table. I was telling her how much I like the food, which was a small mistake because she said "Oh you must go have some more." I said "Asante, nimeshiba." (thanks, I am already full). But she didn't buy it, so I went back for a small helping and stuffed myself. Lucy is another bright, funny woman whose kids are grown. She invited Anna and me to come back to visit her this week and she said "Lunch is on me and I will lake you on a tour of the village."

Friday Feb 18^th

A good day at the orphanage

This was probably the best day I have had at the orphanage so far. I am starting to get to know each of the kids and vice versa. Also, I am getting to know the routine and the nurses. Part of my strategy is to gain the trust of the nurses so they will listen to me when I tell them to make sure they are taking the kids to the bathroom, keeping them in dry pants, wiping their noses and not hitting them on the head, etc.

I have decided that since the nurses take care of their basic care, I will be less involved in that and spend more time giving them what they need individually. This depends on the kid and the mood of the kid at the time. It could be in the form of a hug, a song, a tickle, looking at books, counting or kicking a ball around. Today, I took 4 of the older kids aside and we colored, drew shapes and played with the etch a sketch. After that, I went to the toddler room and held them, sang and looked at baby animal books. Then at milk time I helped hand out milk and take kids to the bathroom. At lunch, I fed the little boy Baraca who is around 3 years and disabled. The kids seemed to respond to the more individual attention and the nurses are getting friendlier with me.

Sister Emaculatta took me on a more extensive tour of the orphanage. They have about 8 cows, 4 pigs, chickens and a few goats. She said that they do get milk from the cows, butt not enough, so they mix the cows milk with powdered milk. They also have a vegetable garden and get most of the veggies they need from that. The kids eat some kind of meat on Sundays, but the rest of their meals are a porridge mixed with beans, maize and vegetables. I asked her if they could use more cows and she said it wouldn't do any good because they don't have space for more cows to graze.

One of the CCS volunteers had given me a $100.00 donation which a friend from home had sent with her to use where she thought it was needed. Sister had previously mentioned to me that right now their greatest need was shoes and nappies. I asked her if she would want me to go out and buy these, or would she want to do it. She told me that it would be better to give her the money because she would get a better price being a local and that she would show me what she bought.

A Friday Afternoon�.

After lunch I washed some of my clothes. There is a basin and a bucket in my "shower" with which to wash clothes. You cannot imagine how much dirt is contained in these threads. When I am rinsing them out, it looks like a red river running down the drain; So, I have learned to soak them for at least 2 hours in detergent and water. Then scrub vigorously, then scrub again. My socks do not come out white no matter what I do, so I have just accepted that I am now wearing red-brown socks rather than white. And my feet are now a permanent red-brown that no amount of scrubbing will rectify. God help the person giving me my much needed double emergency pedicure when I get home.

After laundry, I went running. While I was running, I passed Mama Tunamanis and saw 2 other volunteers, Anna and Lindsey sitting outside and getting their hair braided. Jessica was there too. Here, if you see people you know, you must stop to visit. Even though you might be wringing wet with sweat and parched. So, I walked up to visit and saw that Mama T and her daughter ware frying some bits of bread in a pan over the fire. They offered me one and though my mouth was bone dry, I felt compelled to accept. It turned out that these little things could rival Crispy Cream for their goodness. In fact, Anna refers to them as "little bits of goodness".

Dinner at El Ranchero

When I got back to CCS, there were 2 taxis waiting and it turns out that while I was running, all the other volunteers had decided we were all going out for dinner. A taxi costs 2,000 shillings which is $2.00 US and we always pack as many people in as possible so we can each save 75 cents. So, I ran into my room to primp; wiped off with a towel, readjusted my ponytail and was ready to go. I don't think I have ever gone from running and sweat soaked to ready for Friday night dinner out in so short a time.

We went to an outdoor restaurant called El Ranchero which served Indian food. The food was very good and it only cost $6.00 including tip. The place was packed with white tourists and it struck me how funny it looked to see this many white people in one place.

Saturday Feb 19th

Safari � adventure!!!! Life without a seatbelt�

On Sat morning, Anna, Jessica and Sonja went on safari for the weekend. We were picked up at 8:30. Our first stop was the Shop rite in Arusha. This as a large, modern supermarket. We picked up our very important supply of snacks, chocolate and bottled water for the weekend � for safari does not mean 'to suffer'. It felt like a little culture chock to be in this air conditioned store with isles with signs directing you to where the sweets and snacks, toiletries, produce, etc were located. Arusha is a larger municipality that Moshi which is the village near where I live, so it has a few more westernized businesses.

After grocery shopping, we went over to the coffee shop called � now are you ready for this? � "Stigbucks"!!! I had the first cappuccino I have had in weeks and really enjoyed every single drop of this precious and rare nectar of the Gods.

Our first destination for safari was Lake Minjora. But first, we stopped by the "lodge" where were to stay to drop off our bags and eat lunch. Now this lodge was situated in a noisy little village with several shops and bars. Since it was a weekend, it was hopping. Also, there was a mosque nearby which were having their prayers over the PA system hourly. I was happy to have brought along earplugs. Our room consisted of a cement floor, a bench, two hard beds with hard pillows. But, the sheets looked clean (the towels didn't, so luckily I had brought my own) and it was sufficient for our needs. It did have a courtyard with grass � a rare sight in Tanzania, so we enjoyed sitting of the grass in the shade to rest.

After lunch, we went to Lake Manjora where there are many animals. Our guide's name was Wilson and he was a friendly, nice guy who had a keen eye for spotting animals for us to see. Whenever we would have to drive over an especially rough patch of road or through water on the road Wilson would say "Safari�.adventure". Anna and I were discussing the fact that since we have arrived in Tanzania, we have not worn a seatbelt. Not because we are being daring, but because they are either not available or are broken. I have already described the roads here. And, I have described the fact that cars, bikes, pedestrians and animals are all doing a traffic dance to avoid catastrophe (and with surprising success I might add).

Digression warning�

Now I have to digress here and describe one taxi ride in particular which was rivaled any roller coaster in the US. Most drivers are at least somewhat cautious due to the fact that these roads have the definite potential to demolish anything with wheels. But this particular driver had no such fears. He drove so fast that my ass lost seat contact multiple times while my head made contact with the roof. This driver went from the left side of the road to the right and back and forth, ironically trying to find the smoothest part of each stretch of road. We counted at least four times he was driving in someone's yard � though no one seems to mind that. So, although ride was the most memorable, most car trips here are somewhat adventurous. So, now, our motto is "Living Life Without a Seatbelt." Digression finished.

Meanwhile, on Safari, Wilson opened the sunroof so we could stand up and look around. Lots of sun, wind and dust. We saw baboons playing and grooming one another. We say elephants, giraffes, zebras, water buffalo, wart hogs and guinea fowl. The elephants were fun to watch. One big guy was standing near a mud puddle and slopping wet mud over his back. We watched them eat. They use their trunks in a circular motion to wrap the long grass around, then pull it up and put it in their mouths. Those trunks are surprisingly dexterous for how large and ungainly they look.

When we returned to the lodge, we had dinner. The set-up is that each party also brings a cook. Our cook's name was Fiti. The lodge allows each cook to use the kitchen area to prepare food for their party. We had a delicious rice dish, beef, fruit, sliced avocado, tea and bread.

Discussion of cultural problems over dinner�

At dinner, we were asking Jessica about the cultural problems here. As far as HIV, she said that people who have HIV know it, and infect people anyway. Also, she talked about the fact that there is no real education in schools. They just say, "just don't do the bad things". Also, she said that people don't feel comfortable buying condoms because then people would know what they were doing. Also, Sonja, who is a volunteer in our program and is working with "White Orange" which is a program to education youth on HIV/AIDS. Sonja said that people don't like to buy condoms because they are either colored or white and not a match for African skin. She heard a story about an AIDS educator having shown some youth how to use a condom and used a banana as a demonstration. People in that program came up pregnant and they could not figure out why. The educators finally found out that it was due to the fact that they were putting the condom on a banana and putting it beside the bed. Not very effective. Another problem is that people in the most poverty-stricken group really cannot afford condoms. There is another myth that has gone around that Europeans have put the AIDs virus in condoms to purposely infect people. And, there is a problem with alcohol consumption in that group which of course causes promiscuity. The biggest thing here in preventing the AIDs epidemic is EDUCATION!!! Everyone here knows someone who is HIV positive.

After dinner, Wilson, Jessica and I took a walk. We had an interesting conversation about life in The US. Wilson was saying that he has heard that people can make a lot of money there. I was talking about the fact that sometimes they can make a higher wage in America, but things cost so much more too. I also talked about the fact that people are rushed and don't take the time to stop and visit on the streets. And that people work long hours and suffer the effects of burn out. We also discussed the extreme poverty here which is also tremendous stress here in Tanzanians and wondered which type of stress was worse.

Wilson mentioned that he wanted to come visit America for a week. I explained that it was an expensive, 24 hour long trip and that if he decided to visit, he should come for a longer time frame.

Another interesting point we discussed is that Tanzanians do have an opinion on American politics. Most of them don't like Mr. Bush and feel he is killing innocent people. They acknowledged that there were horrible things being done to the people there, but that was true in other areas of the world and the US didn't get involved.

Sunday February 20th

Safari � the adventure continues�

Sunday morning we took off for the Massai village. As I mentioned before, the Massai are one of two tribes who are prevalent in the area. This tribe has remained most true to it's customs. Most of them dress in their traditional clothing. The men wear Massai cloth in a skirt-type wrap and another piece draped over their shoulder. The colors are very vivid, reds, violet, blue and green are the most common colors. Even the children dress in the traditional clothing. As we drove toward the village, we could see little boys herding the cows out to pasture. Also, we saw a group of boys about 12 years old who were wearing all black, had their faces painted and had two feathers sticking up on top of their heads. It turns out that they are preparing for the circumcision ceremony. The girls of the Massai tribe also undergo female circumcision, but the rest of Tanzania has abolished it.

Visiting the Massai Tribe�

The Massai men and boys carry a crook and I saw one man in town who had a long knife in a sheath around his waist. Many of them have the large, stretched out holes in their earlobes. The women wear gowns, usually vivid blue, long earrings and the wide, beaded collars around their necks. The Massai people's faces are more defined and angular than those of the Chagga. They are taller than most Tanzanians and have longer limbs. The men look very proud and I can envision them as fierce warriors.

As we got closer to the village, we could see it's design. From the hill. The huts were built in a circular pattern. We were greeted at the village gate by the men singing and dancing. The singing had a really primitive sound and was filled by whoops and jumping. Very interesting and just what I would have imagined.

They took us inside one of their huts. I could not see a thing and the owner of the hut kept motioning me forward, further inside the pitch-blackness. I could not stand up straight. He had us sit down on the bed which was basically a shelf with a straw mat and I heard a sound behind me. It turns out that a mother and her baby were sitting on the bed behind me. I felt like I was really invading their space. They had a fire in the middle of the hut. They also had a space for the children to sleep and a place for their livestock to sleep at night. Cozy.

In the center of the village was a large circular corral structure. It was filled three feet high with compacted manure which we realized was the source of the swarms of flies. These flies were profuse. There was one little child who had a runny nose and his face was almost covered in flies until his mom shooed them away. We all tried to speak to Swahili as well as we could and the tribe's people really appreciated the fact that we did, although our vocabulary was very limited.

Safari in the Ngorongoro crater� "Wilson, are we in danger?"

After the Massai village, we drove into the Ngorogoro Crater. The crater was created by a volcanic eruption. It is actually just a humongous bowl. It is unlike the other areas we have been in that it is a completely wide-open space. The other areas have been filled with very dense foliage and trees making it more challenging to spot the animals.

Wilson, our guide had taken another group of volunteers a few weeks ago. That time, a lion got really close to the car and he said "Be quiet, we are in danger." That was because the lion could have gotten riled and tried to pull one of them out of the open window. So, we told Wilson that we waned to be in danger. He just laughed at us. Every now and then we would say "Wilson, are we in danger?" He would say "No, you are not in danger." Finally at the end of the crater when we were ascending the narrow, bumpy road, he at last said "We are in danger".

In the crater, we saw a lot of the same animals we did at the lake and in addition, we saw impalas, ostrich, lions, jackals, hyenas, pink flamingos, hippos and rhinos. The funniest and most entertaining animals to watch were the hippos. They were all floating in a murky, muddy pond and would occasionally turn over. It was hilarious to see these rotund creatures roll over to their backs � exposing their pink bellies and stubby little feet.

After the safari, we had a five-hour drive back to CCS. I think I had reached a record-breaking level of dustiness along with butt numbness this weekend.

Monday Feb 21

Another good day at the orphanage�

I took some of the older kids to color and look at books. Then, I went to play with the 18-month-olds. There is one little boy named Noelle who is very passive. I finally got a smile out of him when I was looking at a book of baby animals. There are a couple of other little ones who are also passive and I am making it a point to spend time holding them and reading to them even though they don't rush up to me like Emile and Noella. Little Noella is the baby girl with whom I have fallen in love. This little girl has a sense of humor. She has this face she makes where she scrunches it up and looks very serious. I make the same face it back to her, but then I wind up cracking up. As I am laughing, she continues to hold that face. She is always cheerful unless there is really something wrong.

After playing with the toddlers, I went to the girl's room for a while. This week, the government schools are closed, so there was a twelve year old girl named Mary Pendo who helped with the younger kids. Mary is someone who has the spirit of a girl her age, but the aura of someone much older and wiser. She speaks pretty good English and is so good with the kids. She knew when to hold them to get them to quit crying, or when to tease them to get them to quit crying and when to give a little correction for undesirable behavior. I guess she partly gets this from her experience as one of these ids. The kids love her and she has been a great help. Also, she reads English very well and has a cute, playful sense of humor. She loves to tease us.

Today, the nurses put on some music and since now I am an expert on African dancing (from my lessons at Honey Badger), I started dancing with a few of the little girls. The kids and the nurses thought this was hilarious and this provided a good span of entertainment. There is a little girl named Basalisa who normally has not warmed up to me easily. As I was feeding the little kids their lunch, she and Lillian came over and sat on my lap. I feel badly because I think that maybe these kids are old enough that they know that at some point I will be leaving and therefore don't get too attached. I wonder what I can do to make this easier for them. I hope that in March there will be another volunteer coming so I can help them get to know the kids before I leave.

Another cool thing happened today. A nurse started singing Amazing Grace in English and I joined her. She looked surprised and delighted that we both knew the same song. So we sang three verses while the kids listened. I am making connections with the nurses which will help me in doing my job better. I think it will help them trust me so they will listen to my ideas.

Tues Feb 21

Wild kids

I am not sure if there was something in the water or what, but the kids were wild today. It was extremely hot today so that even the Tanzanians were complaining of it. They are saying that it will cool off when the rains start in March. So anyway, there was just a lot of hitting, crying, hitting, biting and peeing. I spent some time looking at some of the books I brought from home and the kids did really enjoy that. Also, the View Master I brought along from home has been a hit with the kids and the nurses too. One of the nurses was looking a Monsters Inc. slide and screamed whenever there was a scary one. Mary Pendo � who is with us all week due to school closing, also got a huge kick out of the view master.

A couple of the older girls, Lillian and Basalisa have continued to warm up to me. Today, Basalisa wanted me to hold her - when I first came to the orphanage, she would hardly look at me. So now, this is especially awesome that she trusts me.

Lunch with Mama Lucy�

After work, we (Anna, Julie and I) had been invited back to the Honey Badger Cultural Center by the founder Mama Lucy. We were tired and extremely h

journal #5

Wed, 28 Sep 2005 16:05:41 GMT

Africa Journal # 5

Friday Feb 25th

You never know what a day in Tanzania will bring�

Surprise outing at the orphanage�.

The beginning of today at the orphanage started as usual, but around 10:30, the nurses took a few of the older kids and dressed them in these frilly, but repaired many times over dresses. It seemed bizarre to me that they were doing so. The nurse who could speak English told Julie and I that they were walking to the police graduation ceremony which was really close to the orphanage. They invited us to come along.

So, we headed over there with Mary Penda (the twelve-year-old girl who has been helping this week, due to school being closed), Six of the three and four old kids and a nurse also came along. This turned out to be a very ostentatious ceremony. When we arrived at the police academy, we came to a huge open field in the midst of the student�s barracks. Inside, a marching band played very official songs and there were about ten groups (battalions?) lined up so that there were hundreds of uniformed, armed men and women awaiting graduation.

The president of Tanzania was to have been there, but instead, he sent a minister in his cabinet. This was a very impressive showing. The �troops� went through their gun maneuvers and marched around the perimeter with convincing preciseness.

Last day for Anna and Julie�

After work, I went out to lunch with two other volunteers, Anna and Julie because it is their last day here. I am sad about the fact that they are leaving and will really miss them. And, to add the sadness, we went by Kebo House which is the coffee, sandwich place with �fast�, air-conditioned Internet. We found it locked, guards posted and a sign saying they were �closed for renovations� and would be open again shortly. Since this place is only 6 months old, this did not seem plausible. We later learned that the owners are in a legal battle and since nothing moves quickly here, I have given up on ever seeing the inside of this oasis in the desert.

Socializing at Jessica�s at 2:00

When we returned from town, we were picked up by Jessica to walk to her house. I have been there a couple of times, but still could not find my way through this winding twenty- minute walk even for a prize of the biggest bowl of slightly melted of Ben and Jerry�s. This route involves turning right at this field, turning left at the white house with the green door, then walking down a narrow path, lined with six foot high, thorny bougainvillea. At one point in the journey, we had to duck to avoid bumping the jagged, rusty edge of the tin roof of a dilapidated shed.

Jessica�s parents are in the process of building a new home. At this time, the home, which is next door to the current one is on hold until they are able to get more money to continue. I have noticed several structures like this which are partially finished in the village. I asked about it and this and it was explained to me that people often take years to build a home. They do what they can afford, let it sit and do a little more as they can afford it.

The foundation, the brick outer walls, window openings and the rough-in of the interior walls on Jessica�s house are finished. It is a house-shell. For today�s occasion, the family had moved their living room furniture outside and into the new house due to the heat. This was a wonderful setting even though the dust was bad. Her brothers occasionally brought buckets of water and dumped them on the dusty, cement floor and outside the open doorway to temporarily keep the dust down.

Unexpected visit to the hospital � and imagined language barrier on our part�

While we were sitting and visiting at Jessica�s, her sister made us some fried cornbread nuggets. Then her mother, Digna arrived home via the CCS van. She had been at the hospital due to the fact that a CCS volunteer from Arusha (another CCS program an hour away from here) was ill and had to be taken to the hospital. We asked which volunteer was sick, because we had met a few of the Arusha volunteers a couple of weeks ago. Digna said �Corina� was sick, which we mistook for Karen. We said �Karen�? and she said �Yes, Corina.� Due to accents and language barriers, we still thought the ill person was Karen, whom we had met before. So, we decided to go visit Karen. We thought it might be a bit scary to be in a Tanzanian hospital, with no one you know around and half a world away from home.

Mama Digna called Andrew, a taxi driver for us, who is also Digna�s brother-in-law. Andrew is married to Digna�s sister, Mama Tumaini. Andrew pulled up a few minutes later and we headed down the bumpy, red dust. As always, he drove on the left, the middle, in yards, wherever he could find the smoothest patch of road.

As we were driving, we came upon a stalled Range Rover blocking the road. Since these roads are not really two-lane, when two cars are coming at each other, one has to pull over onto the yard to let the other pass. As we were sitting in the car, Andrew got out to see if he could help the other driver. Four cows and twenty kids passed by our car while we were waiting. The stalled car was not movable, so Andrew had us get out of the car so he could wind his way through the adjacent yard which was full of bushes, trees and ruts. It took him several passes until he could find the right angle to get the car through, but he managed.

We finally arrived at the hospital; KCMC (Kilimanjaro Christian Medical Center). There were all kinds of visitors. When you are sick here, you will have no less that five to ten people at your bedside. We passed rooms which had about ten beds all in a row. Just like in the old WW2 movies. We had a little difficulty locating �Karen� because there is no registration desk that we could find. So, we went to the floor we knew she was on and asked an employee for Karen Wheeler�s room. He was puzzled, so Jessica spoke to him in Swahili and I heard the word mzungu mentioned several times. It appeared that Karen was the lone mzungu in the hospital. The hospital employee got on his cell phone, more mention of mzungu and at last, he looked triumphant and led us to room 13. As we looked in, there was indeed a young mzungu in the bed, but not Karen.

So, more conversations with this nice, patient hospital employee, more phone calls and no results. We decided that we should look in on the young girl in room 13 anyway - in case she was lonely. Anna thought to ask her if she was with CCS and she said yes and that her name was Corina!!! So, mystery solved, Mama Digna had pronounced her name correctly and we goofed it up. Corina was extremely happy to see us. The CCS staff had gone to get her food and she was lonely and a little scared. We stayed until the food came and Jessica spoon-fed Corina some soup. Corina could have managed this herself, but the Tanzanians are caretakers, and I think Corina appreciated the care. As we were leaving, Jessica said �I will pray for you my friend�.

CCS volunteers pull together�

Corina�s friend and fellow volunteer, Jill who is from the UK had been up with Corina two nights in a row while she was sick and had been at the hospital all day. She had planned to spend this night at the hospital too, but Mama Simba, the Arusha program director insisted that Jill spend the night with us in Moshi. But, since it would be hail before she could come to CCS, we went back to our rooms at CCS to pick up some soap, magazines, chocolate and misc. other stuff to make Corina and Jill more comfortable.

The CCS staff was wonderful about staying with Corina and bringing her every meal until she got out the next night. They really never found anything wrong with her and her parents were flying in from Martha�s Vineyard to take her to a hotel for a couple of days and then were taking her home.

Back to dinner at Jessica�s�.

After dropping off comfort supplies for Corina, we returned to Jessica�s house. It was 7:00 by the time we got back. The whole hospital escapade took four hours due to slow travel ad stalled cars. But, I have learned to never be in a hurry for anything here, because everything and I do mean everything moves very slowly.

Surprise Bash�

The small, family dinner we anticipated turned out to be a party with about thirty family, friends and neighbors. They whole gang was already assembled when we arrived and Mama Digna had put out a huge spread. I have already described the partially finished house where the family had moved their furniture for the party. At dark, this structure, which already had atmosphere plus, turned magical. Jessica�s dad and brother worked and worked to get a set of lights functioning. As the lights would promisingly flicker, everyone would cheer, and then the lights would fade. This continued until they were finally successful in getting the mood lighting to work. Meanwhile, they had a kerosene lantern to light the dining area. The night sounds, the full moon, the small flicker of flame, the energy of the people all came together to make this a beautiful and magical setting.

Mama Digna brought out a pitcher of warm water and a basin and poured warm water over our hands to wash them. And again, everyone said �Karibou� � (welcome) to us so many times. It really made us feel honored to be there. Jessica asked for a volunteer to say a prayer before dinner, so before I had time to register in my brain what I was doing; my voice said �I will say the prayer.� And the words thankfully followed.

While the men continued to work on the lights, Jessica held the lantern over the food table and had Anna, Sarah and I served ourselves first. They all kept apologizing for the lack of light and we sincerely assured them that it was wonderful just the way it was.

The dinner was delicious; chicken, beef, pork, coleslaw, bread, sliced cucumbers and tomatoes, mango and pineapple, spicy rice and homemade French fries. After dinner, a huge basket was brought out containing warm soda of many flavors. Maybe I will grow to like warm soda before I leave here. Oh, how I miss ice.

After dinner, Jessica got up to speak and introduce everyone. Around CCS, Jessica seems more shy, but in this setting, with her friends and family around, she was quite comfortable and quite the entertainer and public speaker. It is obvious that everyone loves and respects her. She introduced the three of us first; Anna, Sarah and me. The party was in honor of Anna and Sarah who are leaving, and all three of us because we have been good friends to Jessica. Also, we didn�t realize it, but it was Jessica�s sister, Judy�s 16^th birthday. So, this was a big event all around. When Jessica introduced each of us, she said how much she loves us.

It is interesting that people here are so open to new people and it is easy for them to get attached. I find it harder for myself to do this to the same degree and wonder if it is cultural, or if I need to take a look at myself and examine the reason for that. Is it hard for me to trust; am I cynical, insecure�what? When Jessica finished introducing each and every person there, she looked at the three of us and said �And now you are family � you are a part of our family and we love you.� This moved me to tears and Digna, who was sitting next to me, started wiping my cheeks with her thumbs and hugging me, which of course made me cry more.

After diner, Judy, the birthday girl cut the cake she had made earlier in the day. It was a flat white cake with no frosting and no decoration. One might think that was not a proper birthday cake, but after one taste of it�s buttery goodness, one might change one�s mind. The birthday song was sung in English, just the same as we do it in America, just a slightly different rhythm. Then, Jessica called us up individually to get cake. I was second to and did not know the proper procedure. So, when I went up, I took a little piece on my napkin and everyone started hooting with laughter. It turned out the proper procedure was that Judy would take the piece of cake and put in my mouth for me. So, I got a re-do and did it right the second time much to the crowd�s approval.

After everyone had cake, they put on some music DVDs on the TV which had been bought out for the occasion. Everyone including their 3 year old granddaughter Irene, their four-year old adopted daughter�s son, Babou, Andrew the taxi driver (who stayed because he is family and he was going to drive us home), Mama Digna, Baba Charles and even the three mzungu danced. Everyone was laughing and having a blast. They just entertain themselves with the simple pleasures of sharing a meal and good times together.

Sometimes when people are happy or celebrating, they make this kind of high itched sound. It sounds like a rapid la la la la la la�. Some of the women were doing this and since this is similar to the primal scream I sometimes bust loose with, I caught on immediately. I am Tanzanian woman!!! The whole setting was kind of surreal, sitting in a partially finished home in Africa, eating their food and then watching American music videos. While making primal noises.

When it was time to leave, I shook hands with everyone, was told �Karibou� many times over, thanked our hosts many times over and was thanked for coming many times over. Then we took eight pictures and got serious about leaving. Anna was leaving for Atlanta the next morning, so her final goodbye to everyone, especially Jessica was tearful for all involved. It was a night to remember.

Nzuri lala salama � good, safe sleep

When I went to bed that night, I had the soundest night�s sleep since arriving. I did not hear one rooster, one dog or see one spider on my netting. I think about that first night and sitting bolt, horror-film-upright in bed when that rooster crowed at one AM, two AM, three AM�.

Saturday Feb 26

Good-byes and hand �me-downs

Several of the volunteers are getting ready to leave this weekend. Lindsey and Anna have been here six weeks and are leaving for two weeks at Zanzibar, then on to Europe. What a life. Trina and Caroline have been here a month, left and climbed Mt. Kili, returned and are now leaving for Southeast Asia. Julie, from Salt Lake City is leaving this morning, and Anna, from Atlanta is leaving tonight. All the other volunteers, except Sarah and I are at Pengani Beach this weekend or are leaving for various parts of the world. I did not want to go to the beach, because I would have missed a day of work and it was the last weekend for Anna and Julie. I also had the dinner plans with Jessica (which thank heaven didn�t miss) and the Kili 5 K race Sun morning. So, is that enough reason to stick around this weekend? I thought yes.

Anyway, when volunteers get ready to leave, they go through their stuff and get rid whatever they don�t need for the trip home such as lice shampoo, half used bottles of bug spray, and clothes which are stained and sun bleached. I was the happy recipient of several such items. Also, Lindsey gave me some long underwear, a sweatshirt, gloves and mountain sickness medication in case I want to climb Mt. Kili. I am considering doing this, because I have heard that though it is grueling and some don�t make it up, that it is an amazing experience. But, it looks like it might not be doable time-wise, so I may have to pass these items on to another lucky candidate.

It is hard to say goodbye to these people. We are all we have in Tanzania, along with local friends, so we form a quick bond. I will miss them and will hope they have safe travels.

Tanzanians don�t suffer Western diseases; depression, anxiety, bipolar�

I was talking with some of the CCS staff members over lunch today about Corina being in the hospital. It turns out that she did have malaria last week, but the medication got rid of it. She has had a history of anxiety and depression and that is why her parents decided to fly over. Moses Polepole, the CCS program director, was saying �We have never heard of anxiety. Tell me how we can help her."� I said that the support they had given was the best they could do. Then he went on to say they had a previous volunteer who wouldn�t eat with or talk to any of the other volunteers. He was describing what I would call antisocial behavior. He said �I can�t remember what to call it�. Then after he thought he said �Oh yes, bipolar � what is bipolar?� I tried to explain that to him as well. He said, �We have never learned how to take care of people with these. We need to learn how to help them.�

It was really sweet how concerned he was, but also ironic that he had never dealt with any of this until he has been in charge of westerners. It again struck me that our lifestyle is perhaps a culprit in these kinds of problems.

Marriage proposal�

I went running today and along with the usual greetings, giggling kids and whatnot, I came upon a man who apparently saw me and was struck suddenly by love (happens to me all the time). Now, mind you, I was looking and smelling my ripest. Rivers of dust-sweat running and pooling, shirt with dirty handprints from the previous day�s work, hair in a messy stub of a pony tail � what�s not to love? This man, who was working on the road approached me and said something in Swahili to me. After I looked puzzled, as I spend a lot of time doing here, he said in English �I love you very much and I wish to engage you.� I held up the silver band Gerry had given me for Christmas as an African wedding band and said �But I am already married.� He instantly said �Oh, I am so sorry.� He repeated that over and over and I could see he felt badly so I said �It's okay, Hakuna Mata� and went on my way. Oh, it was all so sudden.

Sunday Feb 27^th

Kilmanjaro Marathon, �Run Kristy��

This morning, Lindsay, another volunteer, myself along with three young local CCS volunteers, John, Antone and Nick met at 6:20 AM in front of the gate to our CCS compound to walked to the Kilimanjaro Marathon starting line. We were planning to run in the 5-kilometer race. It was a mile or so to walk there which was a good way to loosen up for the race.

The 5 K was free of charge because they were encouraging people in Tanzania to become more active and most could not pay even a nominal fee to run. The half and full marathons drew people internationally, especially from Kenya. There were cash prizes for the top finishers for these races.

At the start of the race, I was just observing people. Nick, was wearing some canvas shoes with holes in them. There were a lot of young kids � especially boys and some of these were barefoot or in sandals. Also, there was a middle-aged woman in a pair of hard- soled dress flats. The people were just packed in and I can guess that there were three to five thousand people in the 5 K race. I have a picture on my camera of us at the start with Mt Kili in the background. As we were running, it was hard to run at more than a slow pace due to the crowds. It was a challenge to not step on anyone or into a pothole. As we continued, some of the kids were scaling the six-foot high, thorny bougainvillea to get a leg-up on the pack. Ironically, a mile down the road, many of these were walking. I was excited because I was able to run the entire race with no walking � good for me since I really don�t run much anymore. I ran around an 8:30 mile pace which I was especially happy with.

Runners turn ugly�

After the race, we were instructed to form a line to collect our race T-shirt. You have to understand something here. Tanzanians do not really understand the concept of lines and coupled with the fact that the majority of runners were male under the age of 16, this was mass chaos. As we waited around the tent for the handing out of t-shirts, I noticed that I had less and less personal space. By the way, since I have been here, this space has changed in it�s dimensions to a very much smaller area. Anyway, it got to the point where I could not move in any direction.

As we waiting shoulder to shoulder and other body parts to other body parts, exchanging sweat and body odors, there was a lot of movement around the tent where t-shirts were to be distributed. Suddenly, the tent started to tremble, then topple and finally fall. Then, there were people shoving backward, away from the tent which was frightening, because I was getting shoved in every direction with no control and no where to go. I now understand first-hand how people get trampled in crowds. As the crowd dissipated, I realized the reason people were backing off � the police were hitting those at the front of the throng with batons. At that point, I decided that although I really wanted a T-shirt, it was not worth risking my life over. Nick, one of my running companions said �Let�s go, life is more important than a T-shirt. Some of these people, they don�t listen, they are stubborn.�

Running Coach�

Meanwhile, Nick had a friend who was running the half marathon and he wanted to go down the road and cheer him and run with him on the last leg. So, we walked about a mile down the course and spotted his friend who had just lost steam and started to walk. His name was Otto and we encouraged him to run again. I said �Vipi, sofe� (doing good). Once, Otto started to falter again and I put my hand on his back and boosted him back into a run. This was probably one of those times where he hated my bloody guts at the moment, but later would be happy with the extra nudge. So, we ran this last mile with Otto and he was able to finish without walking and hanging his head in shame.

I waited and watched the first ten marathon finishers cross the line and headed back to CCS. That was a long walk because after the run, the T-shirt tossel and the last mile with Otto, I struggled to walk back in the heat. I took a rare, hour -long nap to recover (yes, believe it or not people, I have taken only one or two naps since my arrival).

Black market race T-shirt�

Than, after lunch, I decided I would go back to the Keys Hotel, which was the main headquarters for the race. I was going to beg, borrow or steal to get a blasted race T-shirt because damn it, I deserve one. I asked around and of course, there were no 5 K fun run t-shirts left. So, knowing that everything has a price, I offered to buy one. There was a coach who overheard me and motioned me to step outside with him � he did this while rubbing his thumb and forefinger together in the universal sign for �let�s talk money�. After negotiating, I bought the shirt literally off his back for 10,000 TSC ($10.00 US), and returned triumphant.

Monday Feb 28

Tough day at Upendo�

Today was a little rough at work. It actually rained last night, so the ground was still a little damp. Unfortunately, that did not last and the dust was flying by noon. But this small amount of wetness, along with the fact that there was a shortage of nurses today prevented the kids from going outside. As we all know, kids do not do well in large groups, with an 8 kid to 1 adult ratio, in a small indoor space and just a few toys. The first five minutes I was there at least three puddles appeared on the floor. And, there was only one other nurse and my self with the kids. Now I felt that the wet clothes should be changed, the puddles should be wiped up and the kids should be prevented from walking and sitting in these puddles. Additionally, the rest of them needed to be taken to the pot to prevent further wetness. The other issue is that the nurses do not see any urgency in participating in the activities I just mentioned, so, I put a chair over the biggest puddle, but not before little Vicky drug a stuffed bear over it and little Noella sad down in her sleeper, soaking the entire thing. So, we finally got some clean clothes, a wet cloth for the floor, but it was hard to stay ahead of the game. Unfortunately, most of my morning was doing damage control and I had less time for loving.

I did have a few good moments. I sang Twinkle Twinkle, and one little girl, Lucy who never talks, started singing along. Also, Lillian, who likes to count, started counting in English � she got to three and I helped her to twenty. Right before I left, Laura, the new little girl warmed up to me and I was doing �this little piggy� with her. Pretty soon, several sets of shoes came off and I had all these little feet all over my lap and in my face and voices saying �Mi mi tenne� - me again. These are the moments I love, and it was a fun way to wrap it up. I hope soon the nurses will be done with their practical exams so we can get more help and I can do more activities and the extras with the kids.

Oh and one more thing. About the little 18 month old boy, Noelle who has the horrible third degree burn on his leg - now the skin is completely gone and it is a rare-meat-red area about six inches long by two � three inches wide. The Sister told me they are treating it, but I plan to watch it very closely and if he shows the first sign of infection, I will personally take him to the hospital. It looks like a terribly dangerous problem. He�s so sweet � he hardly even cries.

Banana Lady�

I have been amazed by the women and girls who can carry extremely heavy, ungainly loads on top of their heads. Some of the loads are carried in flat, round or oblong baskets. Others are rectangular and about three feet long and about one to two feet wide. These oblong ones are carried with the long part going front to back. Anyway, they do this while sometimes carrying other loads in their arms, looking side to side and negotiating the rutted, stony roads. Not surprisingly, these women have incredible posture. So, today, Simon, a CCS staff member was driving home from going to the market to get our food and saw me walking and offered me a ride. I accepted, although I was having a pleasant walk from town � it was less hot today. But it was a nice offer, and he had already pulled over. Tanzanians never understand if we prefer to walk rather than ride. Anyway, I got in the van and it was filled with beautiful, fresh produce. There was a huge basket with greens, cucumber and carrots, cartons of brown eggs and a huge bunch of bananas. I am not talking about a Cub Foods bunch, but a bunch with about eight bunches of a Cub Foods bunch � make sense? So, I decided I wanted to try to carry it on my head, because although it was a large bunch (as I have already said) it was a small bunch compared to what these women carry. So, Simon went and got a towel because the women wrap their heads to help make a platform. Then he took Sonja, another volunteer and I across the road to the banana field, put the bunch on my head, which immediately wobbled. He said �Stretch your neck�. I did, and it helped, but I still had to hold on with two hands. Sonja, being younger and more coordinated, was able to hold on with only one hand. I did walk about twenty yards with the load on my head and that was enough to make me realize that I don�t hold a candle to even the little Tanzanian girls. Can you say herniated disc?

Tuesday March 1, 2005

The orphanage�

The kids got haircuts over the weekend. Now, their hair is just a skimming of darkness on their shiny little heads. I have been getting dropped off a little earlier than in previous weeks and am seeing more of the morning routine. I went into the girl�s room. The nurses had them dressed and were washing their faces and feet with cloths (they used the same cloth for every kid). They handed me a tub of cream and we went down the row and the nurses quickly rubbed cream on their faces and feet, and then selected an appropriate pair of flip-flops, sandals or shoes for the girls. No one has any clothes or shoes that are all their own. One day, Lucy might wear the flowered pink dress and Anna might have the green one, and another day, it will be someone else in each of those dresses. As a side-note, there are several kids who have wart-like bumps all over their faces. I have asked several people what these are and can never get a straight answer. I tend to think they are contagious, since I have not really seen these on the faces of other residents of Tanzania.

Today was another kind of frustrating day at Upendo. Again, they were very short staffed and I had to do more damage control than I wanted to. I did have the opportunity to take some of the older kids aside to color. That worked out well, until the other kids escaped and found us. Little Philipo took a marker and was sucking the ink out, turning his tongue blue. So, the coloring session ended. I had brought some cookies for the kids to have with morning milk, and I thought a diversion was in order, so I brought them out early. These kids have radar. Although the cookies were in a bag, they all found me and swarmed me. I felt a sharp bite-like pain in my hamstring and shocked, I turned around and discovered that Philipo had bitten me. Warming up the old chompers for the cookie, I guess. Today, little Noelle�s burn looks sickeningly blood red and there is clear fluid dripping off the end of his foot. No sign of infection though, and I am hoping that the �treatment� he is getting at the orphanage is going to help him with no infection.

After working at the orphanage, the CCS van routinely comes around and picks up all of us. This can be the longest ride in history. Not only do we have to travel twice the miles of the actual distance due to swerving right and left to avoid potholes, but we have to go all over town and back to get all the volunteers and miscellaneous people we have to transport. As we were picking Andrew (from Canada) at the Honey Badger Cultural Center, I stopped to say hello to Mama Lucy. She said �We have hired a headmaster for our school and are looking for volunteers for the afternoon, when can you come, please God, we need the help�. Well, obviously Mama Lucy is a very persuasive woman and I found myself promising to come tomorrow afternoon before my brain had registered the idea. She invited me for a bite of lunch and to take me to meet the headmaster tomorrow. I may have a new job for the afternoons now. Should be an experience.

Nothing, but nothing moves quickly here�

After lunch, Nicola, my roommate and a couple of the other volunteers wanted to go into town to run errands. I had promised to return a jacket for an ex-volunteer which she had rented for climbing Mt Kili and forgotten to return. And, I wanted to check e-mail and see if any of my friends and family still love me. I don�t know if I have mentioned before, but there was a place called Kebo House in Moshi, which had fast (relatively speaking) internet, food and great chocolate ice cream. Much to my dismay, It is still locked up tight and apparently the owners are also locked tight in a legal battle.

So, I have tried a couple of other internet places and have found that I could personally deliver the message to the US and return to Africa before any message in a quicker amount of time. So, in the future I have decided to bring a book along to the internet caf� and I can entertain myself during the many lulls where the computer is apparently considering whether or not my message is worthy of sending. Obviously, I have to change my mind-set. And today, as I was about to successfully send a message, the power in the cafe went out and I lost it all, had to re-log in� more prolonged thinking on the part of the computer� and finally was able to start at ground zero. You may be reading in the paper some day about a mzungu in Tanzania going wild i

journal #6

Wed, 28 Sep 2005 16:04:19 GMT

Saturday, March 5^th

Goodbye to my roommate�

Nicola woke up at 6:30 AM to leave for the airport. Although we said goodbye last night, she woke me up and we gave each other a final, groggy hug goodbye. She has been a really nice roommate and a pleasure to spend time with. I am getting two new roommates tonight � a mother, daughter team. The mom's name is Toni and the daughter's is Ali.

The old volunteers who are still left, Drew, Andrew, John, Sonja, Sarah and I are invited to a going away dinner for the ones who are leaving soon. I slept in until 9:00 this morning � my record for here. I am usually up at 6:52 and have the getting ready routine down to an art. Lotion up with sunscreen, throw clothes on, fill the water bottle, eat oatmeal and fruit, garb my backpack and get in the van to head for work.

Morning walk�

After a bite to eat and tidying my room, I went for a walk. I always allow extra time for this, because I get stopped frequently on the road for greetings. Today, there were a lot of people out trimming their hedge-fences, tilling their fields or going for errands. As I was walking, I heard my name "Mama Krreest". I looked and there were four teenaged girls walking toward me carrying big barrels on their heads. I felt badly because I have meet so many new people on the road and we usually exchange names. I have a challenge remembering names anyway, so that makes it additionally hard. So, I asked again for their names and they were Lucy, Doris, Judis and I already cannot remember the fourth one's mane � argh! I asked them what they were carrying in their barrels and they told me maize. They were carrying into town to the grinding machine so they could have ugali tonight for dinner. Ugali is a staple here, a white dish that closely resembles a stiffer version of mashed potatoes and is used in much the same way. I said goodbye to these girls and continued on my walk.

As I continued, I heard little voices excitedly saying "Mzungu, mzungu." Then, the sound of little bare feet cutting through the brush and they timed it just right so that their path crossed mine on the road. After all the clamber to get there, they didn't know what to say, so I shook their hands and said hujambo. Some asked for my name and others just smiled. This is a very typical interaction here. Sometimes kids will continue walking with me for quite a distance. Others will wave goodbye and giggle. Later on the walk, two tiny kids rushed at me and hugged my leg. Then I held their hands and said "Ruka, ruka, ruka" (jump), they giggled and we jumped, holding hands. It sounds kind of silly, but they loved it and didn't want to let go of me. I finally said "Kwaheri" (goodbye) and a woman passing by saw my dilemma and said something to them, and they waved goodbye to me. Seeing the kids is one of my favorite things on my outings. Makes me feel so popular.

I also greeted a lot of teenagers and adults of all ages. Ironically, they will see me walking fast and sweating and say "Pole" (sorry for your hard work) while they are carrying a huge load of corn on their heads or have a big load of timber attached to the back of a bike. And they are sorry for my work? Another man took me through all the basic greetings in Swahili and when I responded correctly, he smiled and said in English "Very good" People really like it when we can at least do the basics in Swahili and even attempt to help us when we get stuck. There is usually looks of amusement and even laughter, but always in good fun. Tanzanians are not mean people.

New recruits�

As the old volunteers are leaving, we are getting fresh blood. This weekend, six new volunteers are arriving. So far, we have Sarah (from Iran, in college in the US), Aina (from the UK), Anna (from the UK), Kara (from North Carolina). My roommates, a mother daughter team was delayed in Amsterdam and we don't know when they will arrive. So far, the new people seem very nice and fun.

Sunday March 6th

Church

John, Sarah and I had planned to go to 8:00 mass with Jessica. She was to pick us up at 7:30. When the time came, Jessica did not show up because she has had a terrible infection on her foot, which has gotten worse. For her to pick us up, she would have had to walk a mile to CCS, then another mile-and-half to church. Instead, she sent her cousin, Baby and her friends Linda and Agnes. It was very sweet that these girls were willing to walk a long was out of their way to escort us. The three were dressed beautifully. Agnes was in a green two-piece skirt suit Lovely although a little worn in places) and the other two were in print dresses. And, I was surprised how fitted these outfits were �regardless of their beauty and the fact that the girls looked killer in them. I would have not thought anything of them coming to church at St Vincent's of Osseo in these outfits, but in conservative Tanzania, I was not sure. I had worn a traditional skirt and matching blouse that I had made by Mama Nelson. But, at church, I did not notice any unusual stares, so maybe Western styles are okay for the younger generation.

Mass only lasted two hours due to the fact the priest arrived right at 8:00. The choir was again my favorite part. The music was very well rehearsed and done in lovely four-part choral arrangements. Agnes and Baby left for about ten minutes at the beginning of church and returned with a bench they had retrieved at a nearby house for us to sit on. They wiped it off with their hankies and we sat down. Two thid again struck me about this. First, the absolute respect for elders and second the graciousness with which they treat visitors.

Making good on an invitation�

A few weeks ago, I had met a man named Earnest and his wife Francesca and had a really nice discussion about Tanzania culture. Francesca does not speak much English, but Earnest, who works with the village chief, speaks very well. At the time we met, I had been invited to come over to their home on a Sunday after church for a visit. I had all but forgotten about this until today, when I arrived home from church and Earnest was at our gate to collect me. Apparently, he had decided that this particular Sunday was the agreed upon day for our visit. And, due to language barrier, my slight case of Alzheimer's or my innate deafness, I had not understood this fine point. So, although I must admit, I was looking for ward to a quieter afternoon today I was glad that I was home when Earnest came to pick me up. I would have felt badly to have forgotten this kind invitation.

So, Earnest and I walked the mile of so to his home. Now so you don't worry about my going off with a complete stranger in a fireign country, even though this is a rural area, there always people on the road and homes in sight. And, I have good intuition about people and I knew the Earnest and Francesca were good ones.

As we walked, I asked if I would meet their children. He said that their thirteen-year-old daughter was in Dar Es Salaam for a month of studying for her exams for form four secondary school. I thought to myself that this must have been a big feat for them to afford for her to go.

When I arrived at their little home, the first person I met was their eighteen month old son named "Nature". Apparently this name was well suited, because nature had not a stitch of clothes on from the waist down. And, for me, this was no unusual sight � see it five days a week, so it didn't phase me. His mom chased him down and put his nappy on. I also met their eight-year-old son Brian, a quiet, polite boy. This is the demeanor of most Tanzanian kids too. Whether in school or on the road, they are very courteous and well behaved.

Francesca offered me coffee with sugar and hot milk, which I felt comfortable taking because it was hot. But then, they offered me food. This is a dilemma because these people do not know that our prissy American GI systems cannot handle all their foods very gracefully. But, fortunately, one of the things offered was boiled eggs, so I knew I could accept. And fifteen minutes later, Francesca brought me piping hot boiled eggs � straight from their chicken.

Their tiny home was two rooms at the most. We were sitting in a room with a large bed, a chair, a sofa and a cabinet with all their dishes. A true family room, as I'm sure this is where they all sleep, eat and visit. As we were talking, it came out that Earnest had no job at the moment aside from his volunteer work in the local government. He asked me for suggestions for what to do. I felt so inept and on the spot, not knowing that much about the job market around here. I asked him about his skills � for example painting, construction or maybe tourism. He said that the wanted to take people on safaris, but that entailed a three-month course, which was expensive and would take him away from his family for three months. But he did say that was what was what he planned to do. I wondered how much the fee was and how long it would take him selling eggs, goats and doing odd jobs etc, to make the money to go. The funny thing is, people here ask us questions like these because they think we are so smart and all knowing. It really makes me fee silly and a little pressured that people view me in that way.

Dinner at Panda Chinese resteraunt�

All the new and old volunteers decided to go out for Chinese food for dinner. The Panda has amazingly great food and is also cheap. We had a good time and myself and I came home after dinner because Gerry was going to call.

Conversation from home�

Gerry and I had planned a phone date because it is hard for us to talk due to the time difference. We had a really good conversation. He was sick with a cold, but was planning a few activities for the day. Apparently, he has cleaned out the freezer and pantry and will have to foray into Cub Foods soon. It's good � both of us exploring new realms. I talked to my mom last night too. It helps me prevent homesickness to talk to my loved ones at home.

New Roomies�

The final two volunteers were finally located and were to arrive around 10:30 this evening. I had heard that they were from Minnesota and thought that was such a funny coincidence. So, after a long, terrible trip, they got here. The looked shell-shocked and fatigued � probably how I looked at arrival also. As I was visiting with them, I learned that they are not only from Minnesota, but from St Louis Park. The mom is an artist named Toni and Ali, has just graduated from St Louis Park. That night, they unpacked a little, we visited a little and they tried to sleep. A few minutes after we turned out the light, I heard rustling and saw Ali crawl down the top bunk ladder and get in bed with her mom. I also heard a little sniffling. I asked, "Are you guys okay?" They said "Just a little emotional." Then they had a lot of questions like "Did you go through culture shock"? When did you start to feel comfortable here?" I did say that I didn't feel too culture shocked, but I did have few times I felt displaced, asking myself "Now why the hell did I think this was a good idea"? Like this was definitely out of my cozy, gadget filled, electronic laden, suburban comfort zone. I said that had improved, but admitted that I still had moments even four weeks into it that I felt displaced. But I mostly am really treasuring this amazing and very enlightening experience. I think ups and downs are only natural in adjusting to a half a world away environment and culture. Anyway, we talked until the wee hours and fell asleep. I also have to say that having them here and kissing each other goodnight causes me to miss my girls even more.

Monday, March 7^th�

Sickening Revelation�

Lillian, one of the four-year-olds at the orphanage has had these wart-like bumps on her face. I have seen these on a few of the other kids also, and have asked around to find out what they are. I have not been able to get a straight answer. But, today, I got an answer alright � one that I considered pretty horrifying. See what you think.

When I saw Lillian today, she had several Band-Aids or plasters as they are called in Tanzania. I could see that her face was bloody underneath, so I knew they had probably done something to remove those facial bumps. I asked the woman who is the resident nurse there what had been done. This woman is very sweet and has had a year of nursing training. She told me "I pricked them and opened them and the worms came out." I was not sure I understood her, so I repeated "Worms � live worms"? She said "Yes, live worms � Mango worms." These occur during the season when the mangos are ripe, which has been the entire time I have been here. She told me that they have to wait until these bumps are ready and then they can prick them and squeeze them out. She said that these spots bleed a lot, but then clear up and look really good. I was concerned that Lillian's face would be scarred from this, although I also realize she probably has more serious things to worry about than her skin. Anyway, I was obviously quite surprised and sickened to learn about the source of these bumps on the kid's faces. And to make it worse, I later learned that the people get these mango worms when they are in unclean environments such as if their sheets are soaked in urine.

Warning, off on a tangent�

This situation is frustrating, because I have picked kids up from their cribs and noticed that the sheets were wet. And, when I went to put them down, I noticed they were wet. When I mention things like this to Sister Imaculatta, she always says, "They are supposed to be doing this, so if you notice it, tell them". But when I do so, I feel an underlying resentment at telling these overwhelmed people one more thing they should do. But, on the other hand, I feel there are times they do cut corners when it is feasible to get things done. I also have to tell myself that I am not here to be popular with the nurses, although many are really sweet girls and I like them. One day, I was sitting in a chair and it had been a particularly rough day for me. I had been molested to the point that there was no part of my body that had been untouched. I even noticed at one point that my fly was down. My hair was mostly out of its ponytail and then I felt yet one more set of hands on my hair. I instinctively turned around in self-defense and there was Grace, one of the really sweet nurses taking my hair out of what remained as my ponytail. She carefully smoothed my hair and arranged in a little updo. Very sweet.

So anyway, the hygiene issue is a constant dilemma and every day, I have to make a choice on how to handle it. Often, if I have the resources, I will take care of the problem myself so that it gets done. But I also think that in doing so, I am not helping the problem long-term so that when I am gone, home to America. Will they have continually wet pants and runny noses? Will there be multiple puddles on the floor, will the kids never go outside and will they sit indefinably on the little pots, crying? Will the nurses smack them on the head, and will they sleep on wet sheets? I know they have limited staff to get all of this done and limited resources such as clean clothes or sets of sheets and limited staff to wash everything, but this seems like a basic health issue. So, whenever I see a set of wet sheets, I pull them off and put them where the dirty clothes go, so there will be no choice but to change them.

Sick kids�

Today, another little girl, Vicky was getting dressed to go to the hospital for a malaria test. They always dress them up to take them anywhere or if visitors come. When Vicky came back, she was changed back into her faded, orphan clothes and she did test positive for malaria. She is such a beautiful, sweet little girl and even when sick, she does not fuss much or cry.

In addition to Vicky, several kids are running temps, have runny noses and coughs. The nurses say that this is the season for viruses here due to the dust. I'm not sure the dust has to do with it, but this does indeed seem to be the season. My pants have become a large hankie for children.

The little boy Noelle, who has the bad burn, had a very sticky leg today. I asked the nurse for the reason for this and she told me that they put honey on burns to prevent infection. She said that it gave the bacteria something else to cling to. I was not sure about the efficacy of this treatment, but I do know that these people do know a lot of more natural remedies which do work. I later learned from Andrew, another volunteer who goes to the hospital, asked about honey as a treatment and the physician confirmed that it is indeed used.

Generous girl�

Mary Pendo, who had been a little sick last week, is back to her sparkly, impish self. I am so happy to see that because I know that any illness, no matter how minor for most, could mean the end of her life. Mary came up to me today, fished in her pocket and pulled out two Hershey's kisses and a sugar cookie to offer me. This was especially touching because I know that someone gave these to her special and that it is a rare treat. She also had some for herself and we ate them together. Then, she pulled out an unwrapped gumball from her pocket and handed it to me saying "Here, chewy gum". Again it was so cute and sweet of her that I took it with thanks and popped it in my mouth.

As I was sharing these treats from Mary's pocket, I realized that I was having a little internal discomfort. And, I realized it had to do with the fact that Mary has AIDS. I thought "How ignorant, I know that AIDS is not transmitted by sharing food and casual contact." But this hit me in an interesting way. It shed light on the reason why there is so much myth and fear surrounding HIV/AIDS. If I, who is educated on the transmission of this virus, suffered even a second's discomfort over taking treats from Mary, I can see how someone who is less educated might have fears over being near someone who is infected. I scolded myself, although for feeling this way even though it was not a purposeful thing. I do not in any way want to be responsible for perpetuating any type of myth which would cause further isolation for the poor should who suffer this illness. I do think that the answer here is major education on the cause and prevention on the spread of the virus. One young woman told me one day "This will kill all of us some day." I don't think that, but I do think that some major things need to take place in order to prevent increased incidence.

Jamming to music�

I had brought my headphones today and pulled them out of my backpack. I put on some music and put them on Mary's head. She was absolutely delighted and was just smiling and bopping around. Then, the student nurses came in and Mary put the earphones on them to listen. They were also so excited and were giggling like little girls. Funny how something we take so for granted is such a source of wonder for those not really exposed to them.

A little hike�

I finally convinced the nurses to take these cooped-up, cabin-happy kids outside. I thought we would play on playground, but the nurses got them all in a line and we walked over to the convent. This was not a long ways, but a challenge for the tiny and the sick ones. Little Vicky, Fabiana, Mbari Kiwa, Lydia and Grace had to be carried. We stopped at the statue of the Virgin Mary and the student nurses sang some lovely songs in honor of the Virgin Mary. These were so pretty, complete with harmonies and alternating parts. Then, I did something that my daughters would call me a dork for. I started singing the Carey Landry version of Gentle Mother. And, the girls and kids really liked it, probably because people here do recognize my true talent but maybe also because it was unique to them to hear an English song for Mary. All the while, little Moody was throwing a red-rubber ball the Virgin Mary and running to retrieve it. I thought "Well, Mary is the consummate mother and will not be insulted by this natural behavior of a three-year-old boy.

Afternoon activities�

Andrew, a young volunteer from Canada was leaving tonight, so at his job placement, Honey Badger Cultural Center, they had a going away party for him. The school kids (whom I also teach) had a few songs to sing. They did these in beautiful harmonies and had dancing to go along with it. Then, each had a letter to read and to give Andrew. These letters talked about their families, the money situation and the fact that they are looking for sponsors in order to afford to continue to go to school. The kids were very shy and nervous to read in front of us, then came over, bowed or courtsied to Andrew and handed him the letters. The object was for him to take them home and see if there are people back home to sponsor any of the kids. As I have said, this village has the poorest of the poor and this is the only chance for these kids to break the cycle of poverty and do better for themselves and their families.

Teaching�

Today, the assignment I had was teaching the use of did/did not and have/have not. This was again a challenge, because the exercise in the book was to change sentences. For example, "I drove the car". The students had to change this to "I did not drive the car." So, this involved not only adding the words did not, but changing drove to drive. How do I explain the changing of these additional words in the sentences when these kids only know limited English anyway? I really wonder if this old, outdated English exercise book is the best choice for this class? Also, since there is nothing else available, do we just use it anyway, or come up with our own lesson plans. The teacher is hard to communicate with. His English is pretty good, but he also seems a little spaced out or something � I can't really explain it. Frustrating nonetheless.

Bad drivers�

After work, Simon, the patient soul who drives us around to our jobs picked me up from Honey Badger. He had a couple of errands to run in Moshi and asked me if it was okay if he made a couple of stops. Of course I said yes. First, because Simon is always so accommodating to all of us and second, he is interesting to talk to because he is so knowledgeable about Tanzanian government and the culture.

The first stop was at the pharmacy to pick up some medicine. As we were pulling off the busy street to park, I could hear a crowd of people yelling. We looked and there was a mob gathering across the street around a Dahla-dahla. I cuold not see, but Simon was able so see what had happened. The Dahla-dahl had hit a motor bike. Simon had told us on another day that if someone hits someone else in a car, they have to quickly get out of their car, put the injured person in their car and take them to the hospital. And, in the past, if someone fails to do this, the crowd beats them - sometimes to death. They do not tolerate crime here. So, apparently, the driver had not gotten out of the van quickly enough so people were yelling at him to get out and help the injured biker. He must have done it, because the crowd had thinned by the time we got out of the pharmacy.

Then, we went around the block and right in front of us, another car had hit a motor bike and another crowd had formed. Simon saw the actual incident and said it looked very bad. We went into a supermarket and by the time we came out, it was cleared. As we were driving, we saw a man sitting in the back of a pick up truck supporting another man. It turns out this was the man injured in the second accident. Can you imagine being injured on the street and having a stranger pick you up, throw you in the back of a truck and drive you to the hospital?

Jessica's foot�

Jessica still has a terrible infection on her toes. Now it has gotten to the point where she can hardly walk. Sarah, another volunteer offered to get a taxi to take Jessica to KCMC to get it looked at. It turned out that they were there for 5-6 hours. First, Jessica had to walk herself to med records to get her chart, which took awhile to find. Then, it took a long time to see the general practitioner. After the GP looked at it, Jessica was referred to see the skin specialist who diagnosed an infection and gave her antibiotics. She was told that if she started to feel unwell or develop a fever to go to the emergency department. She is at risk for a systemic infection and we along with her mom will be watching her closely.

Goodbye to volunteers�

After diner, Andrew (from Canada), Sonja (Philly Eagles cheerleader) and Sarah (from Maine) left to go to the airport. These good-byes are always hard because we have a lot of contact with one another and suddenly, they are gone. And despite promises and good intentions, we know that we will get busy with life and find it hard to stay in contact.

Tuesday, March 10

The orphanage�

This morning, I had extra help at work. Ali, my roommate from Minnesota and Jaffary (young man who is the son of one of the CCS staff were there to help. And just as I think I understand the routine, it changes. Today, the kid's ages 2 to 4 were not around. I found out that the student nurses had taken them to the classroom to practice teach. So, that left us with the four toddlers, Mbari Kiwa, Noella, Noelle and Emily (they pronounce it Emille). Little Noelle's burn is looking better every day, so the honey treatment must be working. But, all the kids seem to have runny noses and coughs now and appear more tired. Sister Immaclata says that this is the season for viruses because of the dust. I'm not sure what the dust has to do with it, but I can sure say that my throat feels irritated a lot because of it. So, this morning was spent with each of us getting time to hold one baby each and I really loved this. It is rare to hold one at a time. If I ever sit down to hold someone, a few more appear and I wind up with three on my lap and flanked by a few more leaning on me. I love this also, but feel that they really like to have the individual attention too. I brought out some baby books I had brought from home. We looked at those and had a nice, quiet time. Jaffary and Ali are absolutely wonderful with the kids and I love having them there to help.

At 10:00, the older kids were brought in for morning milk. That officially ended quiet time. Lillian's face looks really good this morning. The Band-Aids are off and I can not even really see where the open spots were. Philipo and a few other kids still have their bumps. I talked to the nurse who does all of the medical care of the kids. She told me she had a year of training for this. She said that the Mango worm season is almost finished and she will open up the other kids worm sites when she has time. She is a very sweet lady and I really enjoy talking with her. She also told me that little Vicky, who along with Noella, I have fallen totally in love with, has malaria. Except for appearing tired, Vicky does not really appear sick. She is so sweet and good-natured and even the other kids love her. The big kids like to pat her and make silly faces at her to get her to smile.

On the humorous side, I had brought some bubble gum to pass out to the nurses and Mary Pendo. Mary was chewing hers and suddenly I heard a pop and Mary just laughing. I looked and she has gum all over her mouth. She got such a kick out of this and was really belly laughing. She has such a cute sense of humor. She was laughing at herself and sometimes she would quit for a minute, think about it and start up again. Her giggles were totally contagious and she had us all laughing. I like to make Mary as happy as possible because she is such a delightful, little soul, is tireless in helping with the kids and of course, I know she is not long for this world. I will remember her for her sparkle, her impish smile and sense of humor, wearing a green checked dress with a sash and puffy sleeves. This is the dress I most often see her wearing. Sometimes a few days in a row. I see the kids wearing the same outfit multiple days because they don't change them unless they are soiled. But this dress � it somehow fits Mary's personality.

Trip into town�

I have meant to stop at a shop called Tahea to purchase some pants and sandals. This shop is an initiative to help women start and maintain their own business. The items in the shop are things made by these women. Historically, the lives and situations of women here are less that fair and their self-esteem is low. So, there are a lot of such women's groups springing forth and I hope these continue to grow. The women in Tanzania are actually the foundation of the family and many don't realize the quiet strength they posses.

So, I went into Tahea. It is a small, narrow freestanding shop roughly ten by fourteen feet. They have what they call "tie and dye" cloth which they have made into skirts and pants. They also have jewelry, painted batiques and many other items. We have a CCS volunteer named Kara (from So. Carolina), helping them build their business). As I entered the shop, the woman, whose name is Nema, who was working there said one of my favorite Swahili words "Karibou" (welcome). I love this word because it will be a lasting memory of how welcoming these people have been to a woman from Minnesota who lives a rich, cushy life and whom they may never see again. They do not show any signs of envy nor do they fail to attach because they know I will leave. Their hearts and doors are open. So, I picked out a pair of "tie and dye" drawstring pants and a pair of beaded sandals. I then realized that I did not have enough money on me to pay for the whole thing. I told her I would come back tomorrow with and buy the items. She said, "no problem, just take your things now and you can send the money with Kara tomorrow." Can you imagine going into a store in the US and having them allow you to take items out of the store in exchange for a promise?

Digression warning!!!!!

Africa journal - going to Zanzibar

Wed, 28 Sep 2005 16:03:41 GMT

Zanzibar

Thursday, March 10

Today, I packed for my little holiday. It was a nice morning, not too hot and I had the nice feeling of anticipating a nice break. Even thought I really love the work at the orphanage, it does wear me down physically and emotionally too. Other volunteers who have come with me for a day have commented on how fatigued they are when they leave.

As I was packing, Flora, the woman who dies housekeeping duties came into my room. Flora is what I would call a handsome woman. Not really pretty in a classic way, but her strong face, height and just overall presence, comes together to create an overall look of someone who is good looking. Flora is about thirty and though very nice, also has a hint of a little attitude, which I like.

I was showing her the pants I bought from Tahea, which is a shop started and run by a women's group. There are several such groups springing up in these villages. I think it is wonderful because, the rights of women ahs been really poor here and although they are the backbone of society, they do not have good self-esteem.

As I was talking with her, I brought out the little photo album of my friends and family. The people here are extremely family oriented and are very curious to learn more about mine � they love to look at the pictures. The only thing is, now that I am here, I look at the pictures differently. Now, instead of just looking at faces, ect�, I notice the beautiful, non-mended clothes. And, I see the luxury of what I used top think of as a nicely, but relatively modest home. In these pictures, it looks as thought I am a queen, living in a palace. And. In actuality, it is true. So, I feel a little bit guilty in showing these pictures, because the people who are seeing these, are looking through a lens that shows a life of comfort and leisure that they can never hope for. I never sense any resentment on their part, so the discomfort must come from my own conscious.

Also, in looking at the photos, I pointed out the pictures of my parents. I told Flora that my dad had passed away. She put her hand on my shoulder and said in the most sympathetic voice �"Pole" (sorry). These people are so spiritual and so sympathetic, that this moved me to �. You guessed it � tears. At that point, she put her arm around me and I put my head on her shoulder. It is funny how the grief hits me at unexpected times and that comfort can come from unexpected sources.

Trip to Zanzibar�

Andrew and John, both 21 years old were traveling with me to Zanzibar. They are both students at Georgetown and very nice young men. They are the yes that Jacqueline and Catherine would have as guy friends. We started out with an hour and a half taxi ride to Arusha. The driver must have been going 70. And on these roads, that feels like a hundred and fifty. So, we all looked our our seatbelts which were bunched somewhere in the seat crevice and held on.

At the airport, we checked in -no passport or ID required. We sat down in the outdoor lounge and had a soda. The runway was just a few feet where we were sitting and all the planes were small, propeller type planes. Someone was joking that the mechanic was just getting the plane air ready by applying duct tape to areas where it needed it.

As we boarded, I was looking for my seat number and a British sounding man said to me "You just sit anywhere �it's Africa." So, I found an empty seat and wound up next to a French woman. She was on vacation from Southern France. At some point during the noisy ride (we were seated next to the propeller), we started talking about politics. She was being careful not to insult me, but said that in general, the people she knows do not like George Bush and are not happy about the war. Of course, this is not unexpected of the French, but it seems everyone I talk to no matter where they come form, have a similar opinion. But, they are careful to say that they do like Americans in general. It is interesting to me to see how the rest of the world views our country.

Sat, March12

I am sitting in an internet caf� on the beach writing this e-mail and wearing a scuba wet suit � half on and half off. The reason for this is that it is raining cats and dogs and after I paid my money and got my equipment set up, a torrential rain started. So, at the dive shop, they decided to wait and see if it clears off. I am hopeful,. Because I am so ready to dive in the Indian Ocean.

This morning at breakfast, the nice young man who was our waiter told us that the rain would clear off. He said, it's just a shower to say "hello mzungu � I am here". He said that the fishermen love the rain because it causes the fish to come to the surface.

I am typing my journal now, because the power in the internet caf� keeps shutting off and the internet is not working at the moment. That is a common occurrence in Africa -= the power waxes, wanes, shuts off, then comes back in fits and starts. It can be frustrating, but is just a fact of life here. Normally,. It appears to be weather related, but sometimes, unexplained.

So, now, I wait to see if the internet resumes or if I get to go dive. My time in Africa has involved a great deal of waiting which is a challenge for an American woman who has only thin threads of patience.

Now the internet has resumed, but it is still pouring rain. I am looking outside at the road which now looks like a red, murky river. Can't wait to walk in that. Yes, I am having a bit of an attitude problem at the moment. Mark, the dive master from the shop just stopped in to tell me that they are going to postpone the dive until 2:00 if it clears. I will stay hopeful, but is sure looks like pea soup in the sky.

journal #7

Wed, 28 Sep 2005 16:02:43 GMT

Tuesday, March 7^th

Under the weather�

I woke up this morning still feeling tired and coughing. I was able to enjoy the trip to Zanzibar even though I was not feeling completely up to par. But, the cough seems to be getting worse � a dry, hacking cough and it prevents sleep, an activity for which I have a particular fondness. I am a little discouraged by this because I feel it is slowing me down and I have less than three weeks to finish a lifetime of experience here. A lot of people ask me when I will come back to Tanzania. I always tell them that I really would like to someday and that I have to tell myself that I will, or it would be too sad for me. But the truth is, I don't know if I'll even see this part of the world again. And, I'll most likely never see any of the kids at Upendo again. I think this will break my heart much more than it will break theirs. And that's ok too because although they know nothing else, they have suffered the heartbreak of abandonment and loss and are facing some steep challenges in these years which instead should be full of softness, hugs and attachment. Formative times! Anyway, I am getting off on yet another tangent when I am supposed to be writing about Tuesday, March 7^th.

Unsavory news at breakfast�

I was talking to Anna, the twenty-six year old lawyer from the UK, who is volunteering at the Honey Badger. She and I agree that Mama Lucy is an astounding woman. Anna has been helping in the school (called OKAT). This is a school which Mama Lucy founded and I have been teaching. Since Anna is there, I have not been going because the headmaster only wants her there twice a week to teach English.

Now the unsavory part. Anna and I were both talking about the fact that there seemed something a bit odd about the Headmaster, Mr. Ngumi. I had felt it from the first time I met him, but really could not put my finger on it. He seemed friendly enough and never did or said anything inappropriate, but there was something. It was so subtle; I don't think I even wrote anything in my journal about it. The odd thing is that Sonja had gone out to the school to do a talk on HIV and had mentioned to me that he kind of gave her the creeps. I had the same slight feeling, but dismissed it as my imagination or possibly a cultural difference causing it.

So to go on with it � Anna has made it a project to interview all the students at the school about their family background and their reasons for wanting to go to school. As she was doing so, she interviewed Frank, Mr. Ngumi's son, who is a very bright student. Frank told Anna that his dad is separated from his mom and living with his girlfriend. He went on that his dad used to beat his mom, especially after he got home from drinking � which sounded like was a daily occurrence. And, with that, he had a lot of affairs and some additional children. He has lost more jobs than could be tracked. Of course, Mama Lucy, who was sitting next to Anna, was hearing this story for the first time. She was extremely dismayed. Later, she told Anna that though she had not known about Mr. Ngumi's past, that she was not entirely comfortable with him. Since he was hired on a trial basis and Mama Lucy was not completely satisfied, she also and had another person lined up to fill the position. But, since this person was not available for a couple of weeks, they would have to carry on as usual, not telling him anything until his last day. They were worried he might get violent if told early. I feel that they should get rid of him immediately and in the interim, use myself, Anna and the other two teachers do all the instruction until the new headmaster can start. But, I think the thing Mama Lucy is worried about is that in the past two weeks, since Mr. Ngumi s arrival, the class has grown from 7-8 regular attendees to around 17. And the number grows every day. Anna also says the school is growing also because people have heard that she and I have been teaching there and the kids have told their friends and it has spread word of mouth. I like believing that because it makes me feel that maybe I did help them out with my lame attempts to teach English to them.

Another story�

In interviewing the kids, Anna was telling me about Reneva. She is a one of the original students whom I met while teaching. She is tall, has a sweet face and is very quiet and shy, but bright. She told Anna that she is the youngest of about 10 kids in her family. When her dad was younger, he used to beat all of them, but now he is older and apparently in ill health and no longer has the energy to carry on in this sport. Her mother apparently is a lovely who woman, but is suffering from typhoid. When asked why she wants to attend school, she said "I want a better life for myself and my family." Heartbreaking and inspiring.

There is another boy named Sila who passed his exam for secondary school � which is a huge feat, but of course his family lacked the money to send him. So, until this OKAT school started by Mama Lucy, he had no way to go to school. So, Anna decided that she, herself would pay for him to go to secondary school. She went to the school which he had been selected to go, and talked to the headmistress. Anna was told that since it had been a year since Sila had taken the exam, that he would have to re-take it. Anna is very persuasive, but could not budge the woman to consider accepting him on an exception. So, very frustrating, but maybe after this year of preparation at OKAT, he can try again and go forward.

Another young woman told Anna that her parents had died of AIDS and she was living with her grandmother. She walks for two hours each way to go to school. Can any of our parents who have stories of walking miles to school, in a blizzard, uphill both ways have a story to top that one? Anyway, Anna asked this girl what she wanted to do with her life. She did not want to get married - she just wanted to get a better life for herself and her grandmother and stay with her. Many of the young women who have no parents are eventually raped by someone and wind up pregnant and on the streets. Anna thinks this young woman is protecting herself from this fate by staying in school and out of harm's way. But as we know, her grandmother will not be there forever.

Anna and Mama Lucy have finished interviewing all the students, but the problem is that every day, there are two or three more showing up, so this may be an on going process and Anna is leaving in a week. I plan to try to spend some afternoons helping her in the time I have left. The next step in the process is for Anna and Mama Lucy to go to the villages with the kids to their homes and give the families the information on the school and to interview them. They also want to take photos of the kids and families to create a profile on each of them. Then, they will assess if a family is able to pay 6,500 TSC ($6.50 US) a month for the school, although it actually costs $30.00 per student a month to cover teachers, food, materials, etc. They will not turn anyone down, but if a family can pay , 6,500 TSH. Anna is working with getting a charity set up so that people can sponsor these students to go to school. I think they will be asking for $30.00 a month.

Work today at the Orphanage�

Noelle's burn is looking amazingly good now. The dressing is off � no sign of infection and. So, perhaps honey is a great, natural treatment for a burn. Who knew? I have to say that I am impressed that with the facilities they have, the nurses have done a remarkable job in treating a very serious burn. The only down side to it is any of us who have held Noelle are susceptible to ants because it is impossible not to get honey on some part of your body when you are dealing with a wiggling toddler. And actually, Noelle is very calm, almost alarmingly so. They have not let him walk since he got burnt which was about three weeks ago and it is obvious that he has lost some strength and balance. He does tend to favor that leg and I am going to make it a point to help him regain his strength and confidence in walking so he doesn't have any ongoing problems.

I have been watching some of the work they do in the dispensary. The room is not large, but is equipped with a medical table and an array of medicines and first aid supplies. I have not figured out the system of how they get all the kids in for their various treatments. I think the nurse has the names and ailments in her head and there is no schedule or documentation of treatment that I can see. How refreshing to see when I come from an environment where if a patient so much as farts it has to be documented in triplicate, in vivid detail and in approved medical language.

But when it is a particular child's turn to go to the dispensary, one of the student caretakers will bring them in. I have seen them bathe and care for ringworm sores and treat lacerations so far. Plan to spend more time observing there.

As I have mentioned, several kids right now are sick � snot rivers, coughing and crying. Apperantly this is the season for it. One day, I was on the playground and a nurse was going around with a glass jar and a dropper, squirting something into the noses of the kids. I asked her what it was and she told me saline. I remember using that for my daughter, Catherine when when she was a baby to help unstop her nose. But what surprised me is that she was using it on one kid, then the next kid and so on. They think here that this illness is due to the dust, but I think, no actually I know for a fact that it is a virus. I know this logically and personally because I have been suffering from it and it is more that just an allergic reaction to the dust. I have had a temperature, slight aches, fatigue, queasy stomach in addition to the cough and stuffiness. So I thought, they are just unwittingly planting this virus into the nostrils of each of these kids where there will be fertile ground for growth. So, now they will all be sure to get it. But how to dispel a myth or thought process that has been for years? What do I know?

Also, I learned that Sister Immacualatta is suffering from malaria. But, she has scheduled herself to go into the hospital on Wed for the proper treatment which includes IV antibiotics. She cannot go now because she is busy preparing for a visit by some government officials on Tues to present them with boxes of donated toys and clothes. These boxes have been sitting in the new play area, unused for a few weeks because they have been waiting for them to be officially presented. This is a bit frustrating because I can see a box of legos, balls, doll and misc other toys that can be used to entertain the kids. Then they might abandon such activities as biting and pinching one another due to extreme lack of anything else to do. But, anyway, between not feeling well and the stress of planning for the visit has caused Sister Immacualtta to appear more on edge than usual. I cannot imagine feeling that sick and carrying with an umpteen-hour day.

Official visit�

The kids had to stay indeed today due to short staff. This is trying, but today, we had an unprecedented form of entertainment. Suddenly, the student nurses started whisking the kids into the dormitory. Winnie, who speaks a little English explained that there were going to be visitors. I saw Sister Immaculatta and she told Ali And me that there were some government officials coming to officially hand over some donated boxes of toys and clothes.

Actually, these boxes have been in the playroom for a few weeks. It has been hard to see these untouched items go unused while the kids run out of clean clothes and play with broken toys. Another sad thing, the boxes were half empty because somewhere in transport, someone had taken out the best items, leaving the rest for the orphans. Bastards!!!

The student nurses pulled out these frilly little dresses for the girls, spiffy shorts and shirts for the boys, nice shoes and socks and started to calculate how many they had in each size and made a plan for which kid should wear which outfit. They were also pick-combing their little bit of hair, washing their faces and noses and putting lotion on their faces. It was fun to see them all clean and dolled up, but bittersweet. Also hard knowing that this is for only an hour and off would come the dresses, the noses would crust over and the old shoes would be replaced.

The government officials were an hour late in coming and finally Sister Immaculatta got exasperated and said "We have to feed these kids, they are so hungry". So, we did the best we could to help them eat their porridge lunch with a minimum of collateral damage and spillage. They finished just in time to see a parade of about ten cars file up the driveway.

As far as I could tell, there was a man and a woman who were some kind of regional politicians. They were accompanied by several staff and about ten press people. One of the men took Phillipo from me, kissed him for a picture and tried to hand him off to one of his staff. Apparently little Phillipo had taken a shine to the man and would not release his full-body grip. Finally, the man offered Phillipo back to me and he lunged into my arms. Made me feel good. Also, glad he didn't scream like mad at the thought of going to me � wouldn't look too good. So now Sister Immaculatta can go to the hospital to get her malaria taken care of.

Back at the ranch�

In the evening, I was still really coughing � nothing new. Mama Grace, who is about my age, so I really should call her Dada � sister, but Grace seems like all our moms, so I call her Mama Grace. Anyway, Grace is a nurse but is now working for CCS, coordinating the volunteers. She came in the living room with a steaming mug for me and said "Drink this tea. You should not drink cold water, only hot liquid." The tea was very interesting to taste. It was a little sweet, but had a kick. It turned out that she mixed up a concoction of garlic, ginger, lemon, cloves and honey. I had heard from a woman on the plane from Zanzibar that she used this tea mixture when she was sick. So, drank it down.

Wed, March 8^th

Still sick�

Unfortunately, I was still really sick. Last night, I absolutely coughed, almost non-stop. I actually moved to another room so that I would not keep my roommates up. I tried sleeping propped up and took some cough medicine given to me by Sarah, one of the other volunteers. During the night is the worst time to be sick and not sleeping, because, the very dark side of my psyche takes over. I had convinced myself that one of several scenarios would occur: First, I was going to die of some terribly rare African virus and my family would never forgive me for going on this trip. Or, second, I would survive, but would return home as a mere shell of the woman I had once been and suffer long, extended illness and my family would never forgive me for going on this trip. Or lastly, I would indeed recover, but just in time to return home and the rest of my entire trip would be ruined and meanwhile, I would be useless to the orphans.

Mama Grace recommended that I stay back from work to rest and so I don't expose the kids who maybe don't have this yet. So, I rested until late-morning until I got frustrated and got up. The CCS staff has been so sympathetic. Flora, Moses, Mama Judith and Mama Grace have all asked how I was doing and said "Pole sana" (sorry much). Mama Grace decided to take me into Moshi to a pharmacy to pick up some cough syrup. They have asked me it I wanted to go to the medical clinic, but I am taking my antibiotic and really thought there was nothing they could really do for me. So, she took me into town and I picked up a bottle of something that was labeled as something to take care of a dry, hacking cough � yes, describes me exactly.

Creating a scene�

After I went to the pharmacy, I went to the small Internet caf� called Fahari � owned by a nice Indian man named Sajad. This place is the only one, which has fast Internet, but the trouble is that it only has four computers. But, I lucked out and found one open. I sent some photos of my trip to my friends and family to prove that I was not really in the south of France and making all this Africa stuff up.

But while tapping on the computer, I started into a coughing spasm. This one was one to beat all � red, bulging eyes, beat red, bulging face, snot and tears streaming and no ability to catch my breath or stop the fit. So, I stepped outside so as not to continue to interrupt the rest of the patrons. While outside, this continued and this nice, older gentleman came over with a chair, sat it on the sidewalk and ordered me to sit. Though I preferred to stand or to walk it off, I sat. He proceeded to start beating me on the back, causing me not only to cough, but to cough while experiencing stinging blows to the back. Then, as I was trying to gat a sip of water, he ordered me "No, don't drink cold, only hot". Then, since I continued with my attack, strangers on the street looking over alarmed and sympathetically, he told me to stay put "I will get you ????????? from pharmacy" I did not understand what he said he was going to get, but it sounded like he said morphine. I really wondered if a person could just walk into a place and buy morphine.

I was not sure about taking whatever he bought for me, so I went back into the Internet caf� to talk to Sajad about it. As I did, Sajad started hitting me on the back. He came outside with me just as my new "phycician" returned with an envelope with ?morphine? Sajad asked the man what the medicine was and it turned out to be something that sounded similar to morphine, but was for asthma. Sajad explained to the man that it would not be good for me to take this. In the meantime, my body had finally stopped its spasming and had tapered off to intermittent coughing. I thanked the nice man profusely for his help and for being so kind and offered to pay for the "morphine". He refused to accept payment and pressed the envelope into my palm as of saying "you will need this later."

Beauty school dropout�

Okay, I am embarrassed to say that I am vain even while in Africa. My friend and hair guy Bryan had sent along my hair color with instructions that even a non-hair professional like myself can manage. So, tonight, my roommate Toni, from St Louis Park, MN offered to do the honors. Now before you get judgmental, I have not washed my hair for four days and tonight was the big night to wash. So, I was not wasting water, because I rinsed out the color as I washed my hair. Toni is an artist by trade, so I felt in good hands. And rightly so, she did a stand-up job � it looks great and the orphans will be able to stomach looking at me for another two and a half weeks.

Thursday, March 19th

Friday, March 20th

Last night, I coughed my brains out yet again. When Mama Grace and Mama Judith had asked how my night was, I told them I had coughed my brains out. Mama Grace looked extremely puzzled and said "Your brains?" I explained that was slang for a horrible cough. So now, yes, it's okay for you to feel sorry and say to yourself "poor Kristy", because that's exactly what I was doing. During the night, I again had myself convinced that I had some rare form of African flu and would die here. My poor family would have to live without me and also, they would kill me for dying in Africa. Or, I thought, yes I will live, but I will be reduced to a pasty, frail bag of bones from my trip. And it was so ironic, because for the first five weeks in Africa, I enjoyed high energy and robust good heath. Replaying dark thoughts from the previous sleepless night.

But in the morning, I did awake, alive but fatigued from lack of sleep. So I talked to Mama Grace and she called Dr. McCoooper at the Shanty Town Clinic for an appointment first thing in the morning. Ironically by the way, Shanty Town is a really nice area � it's where the fat government officials live. And it is just a few blocks from Upendo, so I could walk to work after my appointment.

Simon dropped me off at 8:30. The clinic didn't open until 9:00, but the door was open and I walked in. The clinic had cement floors, and simple furniture in the waiting room. I waited for about thirty minutes and was called back by a very pregnant nurse. She took me to a back room, which served as their lab. She pricked my finger with a lancet, smeared my blood on two slides. Then, she took a pipette, sucked some blood into it, and blew it into a test solution. I have not seen this type of lab procedure since college in the early eighties.

After a few more minutes, I was called back to see Dr McCooper. He was a distinguished Tanzanian man, somewhere in his early fifties. He asked me about my symptoms and I explained that I was not really feeling so bad any more except I could not sleep because of the coughing at night. He said my lab tests had come back fine. No malaria, no infection. He gave me what I came for � cough syrup with codeine so I could finally sleep. Yes, I was a drug seeker that morning at the doctor's office. After my appointment, I went to work at Upendo.

Greeted at work by my clients�

When I came into the playroom, I was greeted by seven little heads and sets of hands all around my legs. They really like to come up behind me, push their head between my knees so that their head pops out in front of my knees. It looks rather like giving birth, but without the pain and gore.

Post lunch potty break�

After lunch, the kids are put on the pots. At this point, they are tired and ready for a nap. The students strip off and wet or too dirty to wear clothes. They go around to each kid, wash their feet and legs � using the same rags and water bucket for all. After they finish their business, they get fresh clothes and underpants (for the girls � pants or shorts for the boys). So, the kids intermittently irritate each other or just cry during their potty sessions. I have made a mission of making potty-time a fun time. So, since I also have a rather captive audience, I sing songs like The Wheels on the Bus, Eensy Weensy Spider and everyone's favorite; Old McDonald. This is a hilarious sight. The kids, sitting semi naked, their fat rolled legs in front, perfect little feet flat on the floor, singing these songs and trying to do the actions. I think I love this activity as much as they do and it does help prevent premature dismounts off the pots and makes them happier doing their business.

Volunteers enjoy an afternoon of languishing�

After work, all the volunteers had decided to spend the afternoon at the AMEG lodge where we can swim for $3.00. This is actually a really nice setting with cushioned lounge chairs. We ordered great pizza and just relaxed for the afternoon. Everyone has been working hard and this was a welcome change. And, though the rainy season is tuning up with night rains and scattered showers, we had a nice, sunny afternoon.

Evening walk�.

I took a thirty minute walk before showering and dinner. Now, I often hear "mama Kreest" or "Christina" called from open windows inside homes, in fields or on the road. It is so nice to see so many people who I have met and now recognize. It's interesting too, this time of day, people have a routine. Some kids are returning from school, sweaters on their heads or slung over their backs. Some adults are returning from work. There are a few drunken men returning from the bars. And, I always pass one of the public water spickets where people come carrying brightly colored plastic buckets on their heads to get water for dinner, baths, etc� Also, it is interesting to hear the variety of music coming form the various homes or businesses. I hear American Rap/hip hop, African rap/hip hop, church music, African traditional and American contemporary.

Saturday, March 19^th

I have had an amazing day�.

Today, my fellow volunteers had decided to go into Arusha National Park to hike, spend the night in a hotel, go to dinner and go to a disco. I had already done the hike and the disco is not really my thing. Also, I am just starting to feel better after my spasmodic, coughing-fit-virus, so I don't want to press my luck, disco queen that I am.

So, I started my day with a little pancake/crepe type thing with natural honey over it and coffee. Then, I decided to work on my journal, which is overdue by almost a week. After I did that for about an hour, there was someone here working on the electricity so, the electricity was off for the afternoon. I decided to go for my walk. And, today, I put my camera in my pocket because. There are so many pictures I want to take and there is not enough film in the universe to hold them all. So, I'll have to settle for ten rolls.

I wanted to just take pictures of the roads I usually walk and people. Taking pictures of people is tricky, because they do not always want to be photographed. In fact, some people are unwilling to have their picture taken. I asked Jessica why and she explained that they think that people will go and put them in a magazine and say "Look, see that monkey? Or look at that girl, she is a prostitute." Or "Look at that boy, he does bad things". So, someone must have had experiences of someone abusing their photos, because there are many people who refuse. Or, some people who will allow a picture it you pay them money. In addition, when I see a picture I really want I either don't have my camera with me, do have it, but by the time I wrestle it from , my backpack, the potential picture has already played itself out and the players have left the field. This leaves me in the process of tuning the camera on, only to find an empty screen. So, I kept the camera out and on, and no pictures readily revealed themselves to me. So, I snapped a few of houses and roads. But, then two kids came up to me. As I have said, I usually meet so many people here that it is hard to remember the names. But today, the little boy I met was someone I remembered because he was so sweet and has such a beaming smile. I said "Hi Simon". I learned that his friend was named Clara. I asked them if I could take their picture and they smiled for me and my ready camera. And, I went on my way.

On the way back to CCS, I saw Simon and Clara again. They each took one of my hands and started to skip, so I joined them until I had to say "Ni ma choka" (I am tired). They giggled and kept walking with me. Then, I heard my name and looked up to see Mama Judith coming down her dirt driveway toward me. Mama Judith is a very special woman. Apparently, she is wealthy and originally owned the land that CCS is built on. She sold the land, and retained a large area, which her home is on and a large yard. Her husband has passed and her two grandkids live with her.

Mama Judith also is in charge of housekeeping here at CCS and it is said that she does this for something to do because she does not need the money. It is really hard to describe this woman, but I'll try. Picture a Catholic, Tanzanian version of Maya Angelou and you are getting close. She is probably somewhere in her sixties and has this incredible quiet, graceful strength about her. She is someone whom I can never imagine being angry, but you would never want to disappoint her. I think she believes the best about people unless they prove her otherwise. She is like a mother to all of us. If we are away for the weekend, she tells us she has missed us and I believe she truly has. She works her butt off, but in methodical and always graceful way. And, if she sees that we need anything, she insists that she get it for us and will not hear of us lifting a finger if she is around. She has a comforting presence.

So, I walked up her driveway and she said "Caribou � you are welcome". So although I was sweaty and a little tired and wanted a shower, I went inside her home. Before we went in, she was asking Simon something in Swahili. She told me later that she had given him a pair of shoes and asked him where they were. Then she told me "I worry for that boy � so sad." I asked her what about him and she told me that he has just appeared in the neighborhood and they don't know where he came from. She knows he is staying somewhere in the neighborhood and that his parents are dead. She said "I can't even talk about it or I will cry". Well, that got me started and instead of Mama Judith crying, she was putting her arm around me while I cried. She said "It's okay, you have a soft heart". So we went in to her house.

Her house is the nicest one I have been in. It has a living room with a rug and nice furniture. Lots of holy pictures and a statue of the Virgin Mary. She told me she was getting the house ready for a mass that evening. She has a kitchen with two long tables for food preparation and a two-burner portable stove top. She also had running water, a bathroom and shower. She had me come back so she could wash my hands. I tried to turn on the tap, but she said that the water was not working because someone had cut the pipe. So, she poured a pitcher of water over my hands. Then, she had me sit in the living room and she brought me hot chai. She brought a plate for me, put a fried banana and two muffins on it. I had told her one was plenty, but she said "In Africa you walk a lot and you need to eat more." So, although I was not hungry, I ate it all.

And while I was eating, I was witness to something I had not seen before � Mama Judith sitting down. As we were visiting, I told her that I wanted to buy some clothes or do something to help Simon. She said "God bless you, you have a kind heart." My waterworks resumed and she had her grand daughter bring in a hankie for me. Brenda just looked at me and said "It is hot isn't it?"

Mama Judith told me that it would be good to find the woman who takes care of Simon, then decide what I could do. She called her grandson in, said something to him in Swahili and a few minutes later, he came back with Simon, Clara and a woman who was around my age (twenty-nine). Mama Judith asked the woman some questions and learned that Simon's parents were her cousins and she had agreed to take him in when they died. The woman, whose n