Nililala fofofo

So much has happened in a week that I don’t really know where to begin. Here’s the short summary: 

Tanzania is seriously awesome.

My lab partners Inka and Charlotte and I practicing our soldering 

Since my last post, my roommate Christine and I moved from the TCDC hostel into Mamma Gaude’s house (Mamma G, as she is known among the EWH students). Mamma’s family lives in Dar es Salaam, but she lives here at TCDC in a quaint house with her informally adopted daughter Rafia (age 28). As far as amenities go, we lucked out. While the other students living off campus are taking cold bucket showers and defecating in holes, Christine and I are living the high life with hot showers, flushing toilets, Wi-Fi(though patchy and unreliable), and amazing food made by by Rafia, a former cook from the island of Zanzibar. Every night at dinner, we watch the Tanzanian Parliament. Mamma G and Rafia both speak English, but they have become less tolerant of English around the house as our Swahili improves. Our talks with Rafia mostly consist of us practicing our Swahili with her and Rafia laughing hysterically when we say something totally wrong. We must sound so ridiculous.

My sister Rafia and I at the Usa River Market

While the standards of living are much different here than they are in America, I have found myself adapting surprisingly well. My bed is as hard as a rock, but every night nililala fofofo (“I slept like a log”). The internet and technology is limited, but I am starting to enjoy feeling free from my smartphone and the evils of facebook. The hot water in the shower only lasts about three minutes, unless someone took a shower before you, in which case it is ice cold. I see this as great encouragement to conserve water.

The grounds around TCDC are well kept. There is a makeshift gym and basketball court near the back, and a beach volleyball court near the tea hut. There is a bar connected to our main classroom. I was watching some of the locals play volleyball the other day. I was thinking I might go over and join them, until I realized how good they were and that I would probably get my ass kicked. There are small adorable monkeys climbing all over campus. They often play on the roof of Mamma G’s house.

The bedroom I share with Christine at Mamma Gaude's house

We had our first Swahili lessons on Friday, taught by this ridiculously awesome man named Kisangji, who likes to throw a double thumbs up and say bomba bomba (“ok ok”) after every sentence. Since then we have split up into smaller groups, mine taught by Mama Frieda.

Our engineering lessons are taught by a Peruvian man named Miguel. Miguel is hilarious without even trying. His English is iffy, which makes lessons on the finer points of electrocardiograms entertaining. We have started counting how many times he points to something and says “eh, what is dis?” in an hour long lecture. I believe the record is 22. Basically, Miguel is awesome.

The lab so far has been very basic. How to solder, how to wire an extension cord to a plug, introduction to Ohm’s Law….. yeah…..

Monkey friends at TCDC

I am happy to say that I found myself a running partner, a girl from Canada named Raelyn. Yesterday, we ran to Usa river market. If you ever want to feel like a celebrity, be a nzungu msichana (“white girl”) running down a busy street in Tanzania. Stares, cars honking, high fives from children,“Mambo!” “Hujambo!” constantly.

Hard at work.....

My first weekend in Tanzania proved to be fantastic. On Saturday, the entire group, 24 of us plus Miguel and Ben, boarded several dala dalas (these super sketchy green minibuses used for public transport) and headed up a steep and rocky unpaved road to visit a traditional village. I still don’t understand how the dala dalas survived the trip.

We were greeted by our hosts, and of course, we had tea. It’s a thing here. Nothing gets done before we have tea.

After tea, we were taken around the village by our hosts. They explained to us that they were part of a local organization that supports schooling for the village children. The initial money to build the school was provided by an American foundation years ago, but since then the school relies almost entirely on donations. 

The village around the school consisted of mudhuts surrounded by fields of coffee, beans and banana trees. Laundry lines were draped between the huts. The cattle were contained using corrals made out of sticks and various mismatched materials. We were told by our hosts that the cattle typically live inside the house with the family at night. All food was cooked over a small fire pit in the center of the hut. The hut was divided into small rooms by walls of sticks. There was something very intriguing and comforting about this simpler way of life. I felt like I had stepped back in time. I will let the pictures speak for themselves.

These kids posed for pictures like champs

Inside the hut. In the background is the bed where
the women and girls sleep.

Let me just say, there are few things cuter than African children. Every house we’d pass, barefooted children would run out frantically to greet us, picking flowers along the way to hand to the girls. One proudly brought us a dead gopher he caught using a trap made out of sticks. Gross, but impressive.

After visiting the village, our hosts guided us on a hike up a nearby mountain (they call it a hill, I call it a mountain). From the top, we could see all of Arusha town and Kilimanjaro off in the distance.

We were taken back to our host’s house, where we were served lunch consisting of the usual delicious food: marinated rice and potatoes, fresh fruit, beans, cooked vegetable sauces, and parachichi (“avacados”).


The adventure was not over. After lunch we hiked an hour to a waterfall, passing through the shade of the banana trees. 

On Sunday, we went to Church. Christine and I came out of our rooms wearing khaki pants, since neither of us packed dresses. Mamma G was not satisfied with our outfits, so she provided us with matching Kangas (a type of wrap skirt with colorful designs) bearing the words “Child of God” in Swahili.

We went to a Pentecostal church down a dirt road lined with huts and farm animals. I was expecting Church to last maybe an hour or so. I was wrong.

The service lasted 3.5 hours, all in fiery passionate Swahili. At one point, the minister pointed to Christine and I, motioning for us to come forward. We stood at the front of the room, overlooking a sea of curious Tanzanian church people. We were prompted to introduce ourselves in English. I don’t think they understood a word I said, but after I was done speaking they clapped and cheered enthusiastically nonetheless. Tanzanians could teach us Americans a thing or two about singing. The youth choir sang with such emotion it almost brought me to tears. Three and a half hours was a little excessive, but I’m really glad I went.

After Church, our sister Rafia took us to the Usa River market, where we had lunch consisting of an entire plate of fresh fries and a bottle of coke. All soda is served in recycled glass bottles. We walked around the market, where the locals constantly greeted us with friendly words. One young man at a clothing booth asked Christine a question in Swahili. She stared at him confused, while he and his friends burst into laughter. Rafia later told us the man had jokingly asked Christine to marry him.

My blog has over 500 views! Thank you everyone. I really appreciate your support and interest. We are going on an overnight safari to the famous Ngorogoro Crater and Terengerie National Park this weekend, so many animal pictures to come.

The power just went out, as it usually does around this time. Time for bed. Lala salama. 

The hike up the "hill" to see the view of Arusha
Town.

Christine and I at the top. View of
Arusha in the background. 

Inside the dala dala