Room and board!

Some of you have expressed concern about me and what life is like here, so I thought I would give you a little insight as to where I am.

Hall C or “foreigners block” is one of the best dorms on campus – although you probably wouldn’t know that unless you’ve been is some of the other dorms. Our group lives between the 6th and 8th floors, which is quite a hike when you don't have an elevator, but well worth it! The building was geniusly designed to get amazing breeze, and I wouldn’t move to a lower floor for anything!

My current room, is very similar in shape to the room I had in Larson sophomore year but smaller and with an entirely view. I eat I watch the sunrise as I eat my breakfast (and take my Malarone) every morning. The picture above is my bed – it was taken the day we moved in so you’ll have to excuse the mess…

Although it only works half of the time our hall does get wireless, which means that occasion I get to talk to you all for free! We also have western-style toilets, which makes me ridiculously happy. The water goes comes and goes, but has been pretty good lately, although I’ve been told that once school is in session it will be off more often than it is on. I also quickly discovered that the best time to shower is the late afternoon just before it cools down because the water sits in black containers on top of our building… and so is slightly less freezing at the end of the day.

My diet consists of rice, more rice, and beans. The cafeteria the we frequent most serves wali na maharage (rice and beans) for Tsh. 600. That’s the equivalent of about 55 cents, and is what I order for probably 75% of my meals. Another favorite is chipsi mayai (sounds like 'chips in my eye' but is really french fries and chips fried together in a sort of omlete... aka: greesy goodness).
Vegetables are hard to come by in the cafeteria but there's a great fruit and vegie vendor outside who will cut up and prepare anything you want to add to your meal or take back to the dorm.

Only one and half more weeks on Kiswahili and it's going fast! Because I now have a month long break I'm planning on traveling south and west of Dar for the first half with three of the other girls on the program (Wendy, Stacey and Liz). After our orrientation a family friend of another student (Chris) has invited all 10 of us to come stay at her home in Moshi for a week.

Apparently she lives in Moshi district, not town, which is just fine by me, becuase her house is literally on the slopes of Mt. Kilimanjaro! Hopefully I will get some hiking in, even though I won't be summiting!

PS: I've added pictures to a couple of the previous posts as well, so have a look!

Bagomoyo

We just got back from a wonderful weekend up the coast in Bagomoyo. Friday was "Farmers Day" (a national holiday) so we didn't have Kiswahili. We took a bus up to Bagomoyo and after lunch headed straight for the beach.

The tide was out but that wasn't going to stop us. We walked proabably 1/2 km into the ocean and still were only waist deep - but it was good enough! I've seen the Pacific and Atlantic oceans before, but this was the first time I'd swam in one! And definitely not the last - I can see the Indian Ocean from the balcony in my dorm room!

Saturday, after getting up early to watch the sun rise, we toured the city. Bagomoyo was a major stop in the Ivory and Slave trade that used to run out of Tanzania and Zanzibar and there are lots of historical sites still remaining. One of the buildings that we toured was a slavehold before slaves were taken to Zanzibar - the slaves there were blind-folded and led through and around the building and then down to the beach and boarded on boats to Zanzibar. After they reached the island they were unblindfolded, but even if they had been able to maintain their bearings through entire process, being on an island and surrounded by water meant there was no way to escape.

I can't say that it was an enjoyable experience, but it was definitely a good insight into such an important piece of Tanzania's history.

Dar es Salaam

We started Kiswahili courses on Monday which have been a little frustrating already, but I'm excited to finally be able to make sentences!

Next week we should start teaching at the Mlimani Primary School if scheduling works out. We visited yesterday and met with our teachers, but most of us are having scheduling conflicts. Almost all of the classes teach English in the morning, and because we are taking Kiswahili at that time things have gotten a little complicated.

We found out yesterday that classes, which were supposed to start on the 15th, aren't starting until the 29th. Which means we have two more weeks of travel time (yay!) but two fewer weeks of class (yay?) and two fewer weeks with students on campus (boo!). No one is really sure why things have been moved yet - I heard something about a grant not coming through... but that doesn't quite make sense.

We still have orientation for international students on the 12th (it couldn't be moved back, because most students have already purchased their plane tickets) so hopefully there will be new people and experiences with that. Most of us are planning to travel for the first half and then take shorter trips and day trips from Dar for the last two weeks.

Unfortunately it doesn't look like I can do Kili :( ! First of all because I can't convince any one in my program to go with me, but secondly because its 2-3 times more expensive than I had originally thought... My only option is to wait and see if I can find a connection of sorts on campus and get the friend rate.

With classes being pushed back this whole trip suddenly seems short. We have 3 more weeks of Kiswahili, a break (granted the break is a month long) and then only 2 1/2 months of class!! It's going so fast! I am missing home and look forward to see you all, but hoping time slows down enough that I am able to do and see everything!

Living with the Masaai!

We spent the last 2 days staying in a Masaai village called Eluway. We arrived late morning on the first day. Our drivers dropped us off at Aang Serian, a secondary school that our hosts, Gema and Lesikar, started as a way of promoting the maintenance of indigenous knowledge among the Masaai in that area.

The school itself is non-government, but teaches the same curriculum as the government schools do, with additional courses and projects that promote the passing on of knowledge that kids used to gain from the elders of their village, but are now missing (and subsequently the knowledge is being lost) because of westernized schooling. We were given a tour of the school grounds by the head master and also were informed that the Masaai runners, who did a marathon in London earlier this year (you may have read about it in the news - I hadn't but both of our professors and several students had and were very excited about this), came from Eluway and that one of them was a student at Aang Serian, but unfortunately was not at school that day.

After the tour we made the hour-long trek to the boma which were staying at. After lunch we got our first lecture from Gema on Ethnicity and Identity which was followed by tea and another lecture on Concepts of Development. Gema is a such a fascinating person. Although she never actually told us, my guess is that she went to school for Anthropology. She is British and has married Lesikar and into the Masaai community. She has been living in Tanzania permanently for the past 5 years but first came to the country 9 years ago. They have two little girls who are absolutely adorable, and split their time between Arusha, Mondoli Ju and Eluway.

We had dinner after the lectures and then were given time to journal until the cows came home - literally. The Masaai are pastoral and heard cattle and goats. Which meant that once the animals did come home we all got our shot at milking both. Unfortunately I would not make a very good Masaai woman - I had zero luck with both my goat and cow.

The second day we got up with the animals at 7 and ready to set out for Olpul. Olpul is the Masaai hospital. It is a place that men and women retreat to either rest and recoup either before or after major life events (i.e. circumcision, illness, child-birth). There are separate locations for either gender, but because neither Gema nor any of the other females on our trip count as 'real woman' (we are white, not Masaai) we were allowed to spend the day at the men's camp.

Part of the reason for the separate camps is because while at the Olpul site the Masaai typically only eat meat and drink medicinal soup. This is problematic because they also follow a custom that doesn't allow men to eat meat after it has been seen by women. Gema explained that when she first heard of this she was outraged thinking that the meat was made somehow unworthy or less clean after the women had looked at it, but that she later learned that this was a way to ensure that women and children always had food to eat - that the warriors could not keep it for themselves. So the men would go off to Olpul to eat away from the women.

Gema gave us our first lecture on the history of Olpul - other than what I previously stated, Olpul is both the name of the location and the act of the ritual slaughtering that takes place there. Sooo in that spirit, we finished our lecture and got down to the good stuff!

[DISCLAIMER!!! DESCRIPTION OF GOAT SLAUGHTER IS NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART - skip to the bottom of the third paragraph if you don't think you can stomach it!]
A bed of branches was laid out and the one of the warriors brought the goat over, laid it on its back and suffocated it. Because the Masaai are pastoral they don't believe in spilling the blood of animals, and so rather than slitting the throat of the animal being sacrificed they suffocate it. (While we were waiting we learned that cows actually suffocate much faster than goats - but require more men to get the job done). The slaughter itself was a little hard to watch at times, but not too bad. The further along the process got the easier it was to disassociate the meat from the animal.

In following the theme of not spilling blood, the Masaai keep the blood within the body cavity until it has all drained... and then drink it. We all knew that this was going to happen, and that we would be offered some to drink (this was not an obligation of course - no one would be offended if we turned it down). I had thought originally that I would have a sip, but in my mind I had imagined a cup of the blood being passed around - which did happen - but only after the 4 of the warriors took turns cupping the blood out of the carcass with their hands and slurping it up.

This was the only point in the whole process that triggered my gag reflex. (See photo above.) Needless to say I had to pass when the cup of blood did come my way. To the amusement of the rest of us Gema and Lesikars daughters both love this part of the ritual, and after everyone who wanted a sip had their chance the oldest, Nandi who is maybe 5, threw back an entire glass, getting blood all over her face, and spilling a couple drops on Chris who happened to be her lap at the moment.

Don't get too concerned though! After lunch Gema gave us her final lecture on the science of Masaai medicine. She granted that while eating raw meat and drinking blood would not be advisable on its own, because of the scientifically proven qualities of the medicinal soup, when they are taken together you would be just fine. I did drink the medicinal soup, which was definitely not appetizing, but not bad. It had parts of the goat, including the fat, and other carefully chosen plants in it. All of this was mashed and boiled into a smooth liquid form which you could drink - no chunks (I was concerned about that).

After Olpul we headed back to the boma, were we rested, journaled, and had dinner. After dinner, and after if got dark the festivities continued with dancing and singing! This only served to remind me again that I would not make a good Masaai woman. A. because I cannot sing in the high nasally tone that they do, and B. because I have no idea how they can move their shoulders like that!! The men's dance essentially consists of jumping up and down, but the women, who wear huge beaded collars, do one of two things. They either get the collar to bounce up and down (kind of like a see-saw) through some amazing shoulder technique, or they make the collar shiver - it's almost like a shimmy, but its so small that all you can see is the white collar vibrating around their necks. I don't think that any of the wzungu (white people) were able to master either of these dances - but we were definitely all forced into the spotlight to try it out on several occasions!

This morning we had breakfast, packed up and left for Arusha. It was a fun visit, and I'm so glad that we had such an amazing opportunity, but I am also looking forward to sleeping in a bed again - and more adventures in Dar es Salaam. We catch the bus for Dar tomorrow morning!

Safari!

What a crazy day on so many levels!

We just got back from our trip to the Ngorongoro Crater, which was both amazing and frustrating. We got to see zebras, wildebeests, water buffalo, giraffes (not inside the crater), hyenas, warthogs, flamingos, lions, elephants and hippos - all of which was completely awesome.

On the way there we passed lots of little villages and shops, including Maasai "cultural bomas". These, growing rapidly in number, are small clusters of Maasai huts, just off the road which are geared at attracting tourists. The deal is that a group pulls over, pays a fee to get into the boma, gets shown around, takes as many pictures as they want, and is then shown to the gift shop... Because of the way that land is being bought up, indigenous groups like the Maasai (who are pastoral) are being pushed out of and off of land they previously were free to roam. They are struggling to survive using the methods they have always survived on, and have turned to tourism, much like the rest of the country.

The Ngorongoro Crater is a conservation area - a term that in the west we tend to think of positively, but has had negative repercussions here. The Maasai, previously used the Crater for grazing their cattle, but now are facing restrictions on their use of the land. They are allowed to live within the conservation area, but not within the Crater. They may only enter the crater between the hours of 6 am and 4 pm, just like the tourists. Our driver, mentioned that some people are trying to move in the direction of making the Crater and National Park, which would mean no one is allowed to live there at all. The biggest argument the Maasai use to hold their ground against being pushed out, is that the park employees (rangers) are also living within the conservation area. But, we passed an apartment complex on the way in, just outside the conservation borders, that is going to house park staff and their families...

All of this makes me wonder what role we are playing as tourists going on safari. Are we supporting the country, by putting money into its greatest means of income? Or are we helping to promote and perpetuate a process which is making life for the indigenous peoples of this country impossible?

On our way our of the park, we stopped at one of the 4 hotels on the rim of the crater, the Ngorongoro Crater Lodge. In 2005 it was named 2nd best hotel in the world by a British travel magazine. It was the most lush and extravagant place I have ever stepped into! The rooms were shaped like clusters of Maasai huts, and decorations were matched accordingly, trying as best as possible to look African while remaining excessively comfortable. I asked our guide what it cost to stay there - brace yourself - - - $1150 per night per person. And they were completely booked. Of course, if you would like to come during the low season the price would be reduced by half... The amount of money that tourism brings into the country is astonishing, but I have yet to see where it is used in supporting the people who live here.

Days 2 and 3

On our second day in Arusha we visited a coffee farmer and his family, and got to see the whole process in action. Some of you know that I don't drink coffee, but I couldn't say no to the beans we had just harvested and roasted ourselves - and it was amazing!! If we had this coffee back in the states, I might be convinced to start drinking.


(Steven, our TCDC group leader; Bryanna, my roommate;
and Mussa, the coffee farmer)


During our morning lecture I had been amazed at the way Steven had talked about ecological sustainability today. His passion about our need to provide for ourselves and support the environment is so much greater than anyone I have ever met in the United States - and we (Westerners) are the ones at greater fault for the damage that has been done to our earth. Both Steven and the coffee farmer that we met talked about all of the ways that they make use of their land. They grow coffee with bananas, but also in recent years have been competing to see who can plant the most trees to be used for timber - and they are both at a standstill because neither has room for any additional plants.

After the coffee farm, we had lunch at a local restaurant which serves traditional African dishes. The place itself is beautiful, and after commenting so to the woman who runs it I learned that the idea behind her business was also. She made the comment in passing that this wasn't even her profession, and so I asked what it was - meteorology. She said she wanted to open up this restaurant so that she could show other people in the village that they could open and manage their own businesses, that a successful business could be run by a Tanzanian. And it has worked. She is currently expanding, to open a cafe in a neighboring building, which has the 4 bedrooms to accommodate guests. I am amazed that a person would go to such lengths and put their own comfort at risk in order to prove to their community that they were capable of doing the same.





The third day we visited another farm. I had originally thought that we were going to be harvesting either maize (corn) or soy beans, but it turned out that we were just in time to get in on some sunflower action. We cut down and collected the flowers, which were bigger than my head, and then de-seeded them by beating the flower repeatedly with a stick until all of the seeds fell out. By the time we had finished everyone had new blisters and fingers died the purple from the seeds!


Like the coffee farmer, this family talked about the way they planted all of their crops on the same land, but harvested them separately. Because each plant has it's own season for harvest they could grow together. This also helps to insure an income for the family, because if one crop does not produce what was expected they still have the others to rely on.

I'm here!

I made it into Kilimajaro airport on Tuesday night, after spending 8 hours on both my flight to Amsterdam and Tanzania. It was a long day, and a struggle to try and keep myself awake so that I would be tierd enough to sleep once we landed, but I haven't had any problems with jetlag.

We are staying at a place called TCDC (Training Center for Development Cooperation) in Arusha. The facility is amazing! I'm scared that we will all be in for a shock when we have to move to Dar es Salaam and into the dorms... Chris, being the only guy, has a single to himself as well as Shanea because we have an odd number of girls - the rest of us have paired off and are sharing rooms. My roommate, Liz is also a student at Olaf, starting her junior year. Each room is furnished with desks, a closet, two beds, two mosquito nets and a bathroom with a real, or rather Western, toilet(!). If you have ever dreamed of sleeping in a canopy bed, the mosquito nets here are pretty dang close. Liz and I have both decided it's like sleeping in your very own fort.

Our first day in arusha started with a lecture, introducing us to Tanzania. We break everyday at 10 for chai, an excellent tradition, and afterwhich we were troduced our new mode of transportation for the next two weeks... a 10 person van. The problem is that we have 10 students, 2 professors, and a guide. We have it worked out that Chris and the guide share the front seat, while the other 11 of us squish into the back which is esentially two benches along either side of the car. Some combinations of butts work better than others, but we haven't quite mastered the art of cramming inside yet, and inevitably one or two people have to spend the ride leaning forward into the middle of the van in order to accomodate all of our bodies.

We drove to a nearby lake where we got our first Kiswahili lesson (greetings, introductions, thank you's, etc.) and had lunch. After that we took a walking tour of Arusha, went to a food market, and then traveled to two other markets which had more crafts and clothing type items.

At the first market I was awakened to the fact that my name is very problematic. A guy approached Liz and me, and introduced himself saying "Jina langu ni Joseph" (my name is Joseph) and then extending his hand, asking me my name. So I relpied "Jina langu ni Siri" which I thought meant "My name is Siri", but actually translates to "My name is secret." Thankfully he laughed, thinking that I was joking with him. But even as he continued to walk and talk with us (he spoke some English) he kept randomly saying "siri ako". I would ask him what it meant, and he would just look at me, confused, and say "You don't know?" without ever answering me. After peicing more of the language together I realized a few days later that (he thought) I had denied telling him my name and he had been walking around shaking his head saying "your secret... your secret". Every family that we have met since then has remarked in disbelief "Siri?! Really? Siri?" Our guide has had a fun time teasing me about it and decided that when people at the Univeristy ask my name I should reply in disbelief "My name?! My name is secret!"