IN ARUSHA FROM DAYS 87 – 93
I didn’t bother bringing my computer with me and knew I wasn’t going to write everyday anyway. But here are the major highlights of the trip.
Ascent to Arusha
We scored an invite to a UNAIDS training seminar, so I got to travel to Arusha and visit my fellow Canucks at the same time. Arusha is about a 10 hour drive, north from Dar es Salaam, and 2 hour flight. My travel and accommodations were paid for courtesy of CIDA (so thanks for paying your taxes).
We flew from Dar to Kilimanjaro on a tiny plane with dinky propellers engines that sat no more than 20 people. I’m not usually afraid of flying but this time was terrified and the 2 hours felt like an eternity. When we arrived at Kilimanjaro Airport in one piece and had to take a shuttle bus to Arusha’s city centre, which was another 45 minutes away. We had left Dar at 6pm and by the time we checked into our hotel rooms it was about 10pm.
The tight budget put us up in a modest but decent bed and breakfast, but what made it amazing was that there was hot water available!! I showered in steaming hot water for the first time in ages and it was marvellous. After my pores were revitalized from the steam, I slept like a baby.
City of Arusha, Africa’s Geneva
Bill Clinton exclaimed during his first visit, Arusha is truly the Geneva of Africa. I couldn’t agree more; it felt like I had stepped into Europe. It is a small but very busy city, and smaller in both size and population compared to Dar.
Its European feel is largely due to the multitude of foreigners you see every direction you turn, including tourists and UN workers. But even the architecture of the buildings gives it a slight Western atmosphere. Original buildings that were erected since colonialism still stand and you can see influences from both the British and Germans who were trying to out-do each other.
I’ve learned to tell the difference between the two. German structures are large, spread out, but simple and rustic, whereas British were tall, and included more elaborate detail and intricate designs. The other unmistakable European flair are the absence of traffic lights and instead, roundabouts.
Being right at the base of Mount Kilimanjaro, Arusha gets pretty cold. I didn’t believe anyone when they told me it would be cold, and thought bring it on, I’ve lived through Canadian arctic winters. Turns out they were right and I did feel pretty cold and ended up buying a jacket like a sucker. Perhaps I’m growing sensitive to cold. At night it dropped down to as low as 10 Celsius.
This month is peak season for vacations. Tourists flock from all over the world to experience Safari, visit national parks, and other natural sites Arusha has to offer including the Serengetti, Olduvai Jorge, Ngorongoro crater, Rift Valley even tackle the highest peak in Africa.
Walking the streets of Arusha, I blended right in with the diverse crowd of tourists and foreigners, and began to feel anonymous again.
United Nations Tribunal for Rwanda (ICC Buildling)
(We were not allowed to take pictures of the UN building. There was a huge sign with a camera crossed-out prohibiting photographs)
It is the only building of its kind in all of Africa. It stands on a hill behind large gates guarded by uniformed men
carrying rifles. It is a wide, shiny, glass building, modern in design with meticulously manicured grounds. Very official looking bureaucrats climb into SUV’s with flags of blue flapping in the wind, bearing the official seal. “UN” is printed in bold black letters on the doors and hood of the car.
Arusha was chosen as the location for the tribunal in 1993. It is the very place where the trials from the Rwandan genocide were held and you can’t help but wonder what testimonies were given inside and the fate of each war criminal that had been convicted inside. Now it is used for conferences and other delegate meetings. Just recently, the meetings to deploy troops in Darfur were held there.
Clock Tower
The famous clock tower of Arusha is apparently a big deal but you wouldn’t think it to look at it. It’s a dinky little thing that is about the size of a miniature lighthouse, certainly no Big Ben. Unless you read about it somewhere you wouldn’t know of its significance, and passing by it you wouldn’t even care to find out.
The clock tower marks the true centre point between Johannesburg and Cairo on the continent, and was used for colonial powers when they were mapping out trade routes. It served as their mid-point across Africa and gave them the range of travel from the most North to South. I thought that was pretty cool.
Now a days it’s just a roundabout but still well maintained. But of course leave it to Coca cola to plaster a hideous sign on it, denigrating it to a cheap commercial advertisement. I guess that’s globalization at its finest.
Canucks reunite again!
Hung out with the Arusha crew during the evenings, and spent a few extra nights at the girl’s house. The three of them are sharing a large house downtown that they got to furnish themselves. At my place the only furniture we have are the beds in our rooms. So it was nice to sit on a couch and relax for a change. They got a guard dog they named Simba, but doesn’t really do a good job of guarding cause he’ll go right up to you and lick you. But people here are very afraid of dogs and their bark alone is enough to scare some people off.
They took me out to the popular local hangouts in the city centre, but I have to say it doesn’t measure up to the nightlife in Dar. Arusha is a cute town I’d want to retreat to for short visits, but if I had to choose where to be stationed, it would still be Dar, despite the extreme heat.
Needless to say we partied hard, poured our hearts out about all the challenges we’ve encountered, shared heart-wrenching stories from the field, told funny tails about our placements to lighten the mood, then gushed over the cute diplomats we met over the past week. Turns out we all had our eye on a tall ruggedly handsome Swedish dude.
By the end of the week I had a good taste of most of the city of Arusha and was ready to go back home to Dar. We’ll be visiting each other throughout the year, and I plan to visit the national parks and do Safari in December so there is much more to see.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
DAYS 75 – 86
Day 75
The Expat Life
Lately since I’ve been getting to know more of the expat community, I’ve entertained thoughts of remaining abroad. My exposure to the life out here in the world of development has been enticing and I’m not sure if I want to go back home and live an ordinary life. Not to say I had a humdrum life back home at all, but living out here has opened up a whole other world for me that I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to live the expat life.
I’ve met with people who have raised their families abroad. They would travel all over the world and remain uprooted with no real home base. Wherever they are living at the time would be ‘home’ for a year or two before they move onto another assignment in a different part of the world. Their children attend international schools, blend in with the locals and learn several different languages and cultural traditions by the time they hit 10 years old. They get such an enriching experience that to go back to an average life back home in the west and blend in with all the clichés would seem so mundane.
When I was hanging out with Dennis and Kent, two other Canadians also working in HIV/AIDS in Dar es Salaam, I actually felt sheepish telling them I’m going home after a year while they plan to remain behind and dedicate more than just one year to their assignments. What I’ve sacrificed to come out here is nothing compared to others who devote their entire lives living, working and breathing development abroad.
Qué sera sera
The pressure is already on for me to extend my contract for another year. Bruno has asked me if I would consider it. I haven’t given him a definite answer yet and said I would think about it. Right now I’m totally on the fence and not leaning towards either direction. I thought it would be simple; I’d come out here, do my time, then go back and resume all my activities at home.
It’s amazing how circumstances change in just a matter of time. Three months ago I wouldn’t have considered staying, but now that I’m settled here and gotten my feet wet, I’ve been charmed by the work and people around me that the prospect of staying has now become a possibility. Who knows, everything is uncertain and indefinite, and right now I’m not sure what I really want anymore.. but then again who has a clear-cut vision of their future?
Each day is different and my feelings change day to day. Whether I go back home or remain here would depend on so many things. When I was pouring my heart about my feelings to my dear mother over the phone, she jokingly sang to me “Whatever will be, will be, the future’s not ours to see… qué sera sera” I laughed but later thought, how very fitting. All I can do is keep an open mind and whatever will be, will be. As they say here ‘tutaona’ we shall see in Swahili.
Day 76
More petty crimes:
When I was at the beach the other day a woman was mugged in broad daylight. Before anyone could do anything the thief had already run off with her purse and cell phone. She wasn’t hurt, but very shaken up.
Malik’s cellphone was snatched through the window while he was on the bus. He was talking on it when the thief spotted him through the window and snatched it right out of his hand.
Baraka’s wallet was pick-pocketed while he was on board a very crowded bus. He was on his way to pay the last instalment on a laptop he was planning to buy and lost the equivalent of about $300 Cdn.
A British guy who I’ve been talking to, just began his internship about the same time I got here and lost his fancy, expensive SLR camera to a duo at the market place. One guy distracted him while his partner swooped down and yanked it right off his shoulder.
When various parts are stolen off your car there is one place in town you can go to buy replacements. Only thing is when you go there, you find yourself buying your very own property back.
Day 77
Swahili thus far, Part II
The other day I was talking to my family on the phone in Tagalog and caught myself integrating Swahili words by mistake. These days I’ve been speaking a lot and have even found myself thinking in Swahili. I’ve built up a good repertoire of vocabulary and speak somewhat fluent but still get hung up on grammar. Then again, my English grammar isn’t that great either. A lot of people I work with speak little to no English and I will soon be facilitating workshops in Swahili.
Unlike other East African countries like Kenya and Uganda, where English is widely spoken, Tanzanians are more fluid speakers of Swahili than they are of English. English is taught in schools to the same degree French is taught in regular, non-immersion schools in Canada. There are private schools here comparable to immersion schools in Canada that offer in-depth, extensive English learning, but only those privileged enough to attend such schools will be much more conversant in English.
At the post secondary level, English is among one of the requirements on university entrance exams and only those who meet such requirements are accepted. Community colleges and practical certificate studies on the other hand don’t have English requirements. And so, only those with University level education will speak it fluently, otherwise Swahili and perhaps one’s original tribal language remains their principle working language.
Tanzania is unique compared to Kenya and Uganda. Kenya and Uganda adhered to British rule and adopted the English language as their main working language, while Tanzania remained loyal to their Bantu/Swahili roots and it has helped shaped the nation to become more cohesive. While the former two countries still experience hostility between tribes and tribal wars, Tanzania is relatively peaceful with very minimal animosity between tribes and it is said to be on account of the Swahili language unifying the nation.
Different tribes who speak different tribal dialects revert to English as the default language in Kenya and Uganda. Whereas in Tanzania, everyone speaks Swahili no matter what tribe they come from and both their tribal language and Swahili is adopted as their mother tongue. So in a sense it was Swahili that bound Tanzanians together when their first President, Julius Nyerere declared Swahili to be the national language.
It was interesting to learn how each country regards the other in this respect. Tanzanians view Kenyans and Ugandans as pretentious, stuck-up, brown-nosing, snobs who saw it beneath them to retain their Bantu roots by adopting English over Swahili.
On the other hand, Kenyans and Ugandans view Swahili people of Tanzania as uneducated, low class and undignified because of their lack of proficiency in the English language and insistent preservation of Swahili culture. I’ve heard accounts from locals, who during their travels to these countries, felt they were looked down upon when all they had done was pleasantly offer a friendly greeting in Swahili, rather than the monotonous, English “hello”.
On the whole I feel English definitely opens more doors for East African people. As an international language it is especially important for business. It never hurts to know more than one language and without a doubt the more international languages you know the better. In any case I have still learned to appreciate Swahili and I’ve grown to respect the language and the people here who take pride in speaking it.
Day 78
Hot date on a Friday night
Although I enjoy the company of friends, every now and then I need alone time. Today I had a much-needed date with myself. On my way home from work I detoured to a popular expat supermarket in town to pick up a pint of icecream. It would’ve been amazing if I had a tub to soak in a hot bath.
Hoyce, the girl I’m living with, brought back several bottles of wine from South Africa and told me to help myself so I did. I turned on my favourite Ella ballads and let her soothing voice send me off into my own world. While emptying my thoughts, I sat out on my balcony under the stars, spooning hazelnut icecream and knocked back the wine.
Seeing as my lunch wasn’t very substantial and for dinner I was only spooning icecream, it wasn’t long before the wine took effect. Pretty soon, I drank myself to sleep. It’s ok to drink alone here, ‘this is Africa’
Day 79
A new boy in my life named Pili
I’ve been checking up on Pili who is the little orphaned boy brought into the office and taken under our care. He has been moved to a hospice a little outside town where many other children, mostly orphans are sent.
Whenever I’m in the city, I rush through my day so I can head over there after work. He is intrigued with origami so every time I visit I bring scrap paper with me and together we fold different animals. His favourite is the paper crane. We’ve made a few dozen already and he keeps them in a plastic bag by his bed.
I was reminded of the story of young Sadako, a victim of Hiroshima. She was told folding one thousand paper cranes would make your wish come true. Naturally she wished to live. She reached 700-and-something before she died.
The Chairman has graciously covered the cost of his bills. Mama Tobias said grimly, “It will just be a matter of time before the costs of his funeral will have to be taken care of.”
This broke my heart.
Day 80
T’is the season for weddings
I’ve missed out on a number of weddings back home but more than made up for it with the amount I’ve attended here. In the 3 months I’ve been here, I’ve gone to 3 wedding events. Today I attended my 4th event, and second Kitchen Party.
The girl I’m living with Hoyce, is getting married to a Zambian and invited me to her ever-so-wholesome Kitchen Party (See Day 30). It was much more liberal and progressive than the last Kitchen Party I attended where the bride-to-be was instructed to be submissive to her husband and “anticipate his needs”.
Though there was one piece of advice I felt was questionable:
When you are angry with your husband, rather than lashing out at him, go to the bathroom first and release all your angry thoughts in front of the mirror. When you are through, flush them all down the toilet. You will feel much better than if you talk to your husband about it.
Yikes…
Forget this flushing down the toilet nonsense; if I’m pissed at my husband, he’ll hear from me, and then some!
Day 81
Winter coming to an end
Dar es Salaam’s “winter” is coming to an end. We are slowly transitioning from hot, to hot and humid. The barometer is rising from 30-degree weather to 35-40 degree heat wave. Let the sizzling begin.
Day 82
Bonding with the boys over bball
Played some basketball with the guys from the office, Baraka, Malik and Moses. The guys have been wanting to start up some games and each chipped in to buy a ball. They told me it took them a while to save up for it and I didn’t realize until then how much effort it takes to play any sport other than football (soccer). I’ve seen kids kicking around the most ragged, worn out, tattered balls that have been patched-up and stringed-up for preservation.
The guys invited me and I conditionally accepted to play with them. I played on my high school team and on an intramural league back in the day but it’s been a while since I’ve even dribbled a ball. So I agreed to play only if they went easy on me.
We trekked out to a schoolyard that had an open court. They kept taunting me with “white men can’t jump”. I showed them, I’m neither white nor a man. For a girl, up against hard-core basketball African dudes, I didn’t do too shabby …(ok, I’ll admit I played a little dirty!)
Fun times.
Day 83
Sleeeeeeeeepy
It’s 8pm, I just got home. I’m exhausted. I’m skipping dinner and going to bed now.
Usiku mwema (goodnight)
Day 84
Cooking Chinese, African style
Halima invited me to her place for dinner and wanted me to show her Chinese cooking. I planned to show her Chinese fried rice and a stir-fry vegetable dish. The number of English words she knows can be added on one hand, so it was a rather interesting night communicating with each other.
She lives in a communal house with a family where she stays in one of the bedrooms on her own. The homes of my co-workers reflect ‘middle-class’ living, while the very poor live in shacks in slums and shantytowns. On the other hand, the poor in rural villages live in one room mud huts and straw shacks and from hand to mouth.
When got to her place she showed me into the common area where the women do their cooking over charcoal stoves. (There is no kitchen). It is during cooking that women bond and share tips and other life experience. There are no counter tops, you crouch down, hover over, or sit on low stools, cooking over these stoves and it takes forever.
She brought out an apron for me to tie around my waist and we sat on the ground to begin cooking. She got the veggies out and we began preparing them. She handed me the carrots and I asked her for a peeler.
…She didn’t know what a peeler was.
When we got to cooking rice I made the mistake of asking her where her rice cooker was… oops!
…poor thing looked so confused.
I didn’t even attempt asking her where her wok was.
...you’d think I’d remember these things by now, but you forget and take little things for granted like a vegetable peeler, rice cooker and wok.
An hour and a half later the charcoal finally finished cooking everything and we actually managed to get by without the fancy apparatus (although had it been available it would’ve taken no more than 15 minutes). The food didn’t turn out bad at all either -it didn’t taste right on, but I didn’t expect it to. By the end of the night, my Swahili had run out and I had to break out my dictionary and consult it for every other word to continue to carry-on a conversation with her. It was pretty exhausting.
I actually enjoyed the rough minimalist African cooking experience and learned a lot more from her than she did me. But all things considered, I still prefer my rice cooker and wok to the charcoal stove, and preparing food in under half ‘n hour.
Day 85
Mozambique comes to Dar
Two women from an AIDS org in Mozambique were sent by their donors to shadow us for a week and exchange information for them to bring back to their communities. Their organization receives funding from the same source TANOPHA also receives a good share of funds.
They were sent here to observe our programs so that they can take back the information to their own programs and hopefully improve outreach to PLHA’s in Mozambique. This past week they have been following us around in the field and taking notes while we did treatment counselling and nutrition workshops with different groups.
The state of HIV/AIDS in Eastern Africa
It was interesting to learn that Mozambique’s government compared to Tanzania, is not as committed to helping in the HIV/AIDS efforts. Here it has been declared a national crisis for a few years now and much funding has gone through the government in efforts to help control the pandemic through prevention, education programs, testing sites and access to drugs.
In Mozambique, we learned many people who are in desperate need of ARV’s cannot access them because they are not widely available in the country as they are here in Tanzania. There are no available funds at the national level for programs and services and they have had to seek funding from other international donors.
Also, compared to Tanzania their level of stigma is much worse, and to compound the problem, education and literacy is lower. Some villages still carry the belief that HIV/AIDS is caused by witchcraft. Infected individuals seek out village witchdoctors for healing but grow even more ill when the remedy fails to do its ‘magic’.
What I found sickening is that some people try to capitalize on the disease and whip up all sorts of concoctions with claims of a cure and sell potions of sugar water. Sadly, people are so desperate and afraid to come out in the open to their communities, that they buy into these scams and self-remedy, only to meet their death shortly after.
South Africa we learned from other partners, is the most open and progressive African county in addressing HIV/AIDS. Tanzania still has a long way to go, and Mozambique, even further so there is still much to learn.
Day 86
Cha-Ching!!!!!!!
My kick-ass grant proposal I wrote for USAIDS just scored us $250,000 USD to set up more Voluntary Counselling and Treatment Centres across the country!! How awesome is that! But that was just the easy part. Now that funds are coming through, the hard work begins. In the meantime I’m breaking out the champagne and celebrating tonight.
The Expat Life
Lately since I’ve been getting to know more of the expat community, I’ve entertained thoughts of remaining abroad. My exposure to the life out here in the world of development has been enticing and I’m not sure if I want to go back home and live an ordinary life. Not to say I had a humdrum life back home at all, but living out here has opened up a whole other world for me that I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to live the expat life.
I’ve met with people who have raised their families abroad. They would travel all over the world and remain uprooted with no real home base. Wherever they are living at the time would be ‘home’ for a year or two before they move onto another assignment in a different part of the world. Their children attend international schools, blend in with the locals and learn several different languages and cultural traditions by the time they hit 10 years old. They get such an enriching experience that to go back to an average life back home in the west and blend in with all the clichés would seem so mundane.
When I was hanging out with Dennis and Kent, two other Canadians also working in HIV/AIDS in Dar es Salaam, I actually felt sheepish telling them I’m going home after a year while they plan to remain behind and dedicate more than just one year to their assignments. What I’ve sacrificed to come out here is nothing compared to others who devote their entire lives living, working and breathing development abroad.
Qué sera sera
The pressure is already on for me to extend my contract for another year. Bruno has asked me if I would consider it. I haven’t given him a definite answer yet and said I would think about it. Right now I’m totally on the fence and not leaning towards either direction. I thought it would be simple; I’d come out here, do my time, then go back and resume all my activities at home.
It’s amazing how circumstances change in just a matter of time. Three months ago I wouldn’t have considered staying, but now that I’m settled here and gotten my feet wet, I’ve been charmed by the work and people around me that the prospect of staying has now become a possibility. Who knows, everything is uncertain and indefinite, and right now I’m not sure what I really want anymore.. but then again who has a clear-cut vision of their future?
Each day is different and my feelings change day to day. Whether I go back home or remain here would depend on so many things. When I was pouring my heart about my feelings to my dear mother over the phone, she jokingly sang to me “Whatever will be, will be, the future’s not ours to see… qué sera sera” I laughed but later thought, how very fitting. All I can do is keep an open mind and whatever will be, will be. As they say here ‘tutaona’ we shall see in Swahili.
Day 76
More petty crimes:
When I was at the beach the other day a woman was mugged in broad daylight. Before anyone could do anything the thief had already run off with her purse and cell phone. She wasn’t hurt, but very shaken up.
Malik’s cellphone was snatched through the window while he was on the bus. He was talking on it when the thief spotted him through the window and snatched it right out of his hand.
Baraka’s wallet was pick-pocketed while he was on board a very crowded bus. He was on his way to pay the last instalment on a laptop he was planning to buy and lost the equivalent of about $300 Cdn.
A British guy who I’ve been talking to, just began his internship about the same time I got here and lost his fancy, expensive SLR camera to a duo at the market place. One guy distracted him while his partner swooped down and yanked it right off his shoulder.
When various parts are stolen off your car there is one place in town you can go to buy replacements. Only thing is when you go there, you find yourself buying your very own property back.
Day 77
Swahili thus far, Part II
The other day I was talking to my family on the phone in Tagalog and caught myself integrating Swahili words by mistake. These days I’ve been speaking a lot and have even found myself thinking in Swahili. I’ve built up a good repertoire of vocabulary and speak somewhat fluent but still get hung up on grammar. Then again, my English grammar isn’t that great either. A lot of people I work with speak little to no English and I will soon be facilitating workshops in Swahili.
Unlike other East African countries like Kenya and Uganda, where English is widely spoken, Tanzanians are more fluid speakers of Swahili than they are of English. English is taught in schools to the same degree French is taught in regular, non-immersion schools in Canada. There are private schools here comparable to immersion schools in Canada that offer in-depth, extensive English learning, but only those privileged enough to attend such schools will be much more conversant in English.
At the post secondary level, English is among one of the requirements on university entrance exams and only those who meet such requirements are accepted. Community colleges and practical certificate studies on the other hand don’t have English requirements. And so, only those with University level education will speak it fluently, otherwise Swahili and perhaps one’s original tribal language remains their principle working language.
Tanzania is unique compared to Kenya and Uganda. Kenya and Uganda adhered to British rule and adopted the English language as their main working language, while Tanzania remained loyal to their Bantu/Swahili roots and it has helped shaped the nation to become more cohesive. While the former two countries still experience hostility between tribes and tribal wars, Tanzania is relatively peaceful with very minimal animosity between tribes and it is said to be on account of the Swahili language unifying the nation.
Different tribes who speak different tribal dialects revert to English as the default language in Kenya and Uganda. Whereas in Tanzania, everyone speaks Swahili no matter what tribe they come from and both their tribal language and Swahili is adopted as their mother tongue. So in a sense it was Swahili that bound Tanzanians together when their first President, Julius Nyerere declared Swahili to be the national language.
It was interesting to learn how each country regards the other in this respect. Tanzanians view Kenyans and Ugandans as pretentious, stuck-up, brown-nosing, snobs who saw it beneath them to retain their Bantu roots by adopting English over Swahili.
On the other hand, Kenyans and Ugandans view Swahili people of Tanzania as uneducated, low class and undignified because of their lack of proficiency in the English language and insistent preservation of Swahili culture. I’ve heard accounts from locals, who during their travels to these countries, felt they were looked down upon when all they had done was pleasantly offer a friendly greeting in Swahili, rather than the monotonous, English “hello”.
On the whole I feel English definitely opens more doors for East African people. As an international language it is especially important for business. It never hurts to know more than one language and without a doubt the more international languages you know the better. In any case I have still learned to appreciate Swahili and I’ve grown to respect the language and the people here who take pride in speaking it.
Day 78
Hot date on a Friday night
Although I enjoy the company of friends, every now and then I need alone time. Today I had a much-needed date with myself. On my way home from work I detoured to a popular expat supermarket in town to pick up a pint of icecream. It would’ve been amazing if I had a tub to soak in a hot bath.
Hoyce, the girl I’m living with, brought back several bottles of wine from South Africa and told me to help myself so I did. I turned on my favourite Ella ballads and let her soothing voice send me off into my own world. While emptying my thoughts, I sat out on my balcony under the stars, spooning hazelnut icecream and knocked back the wine.
Seeing as my lunch wasn’t very substantial and for dinner I was only spooning icecream, it wasn’t long before the wine took effect. Pretty soon, I drank myself to sleep. It’s ok to drink alone here, ‘this is Africa’
Day 79
A new boy in my life named Pili
I’ve been checking up on Pili who is the little orphaned boy brought into the office and taken under our care. He has been moved to a hospice a little outside town where many other children, mostly orphans are sent.
Whenever I’m in the city, I rush through my day so I can head over there after work. He is intrigued with origami so every time I visit I bring scrap paper with me and together we fold different animals. His favourite is the paper crane. We’ve made a few dozen already and he keeps them in a plastic bag by his bed.
I was reminded of the story of young Sadako, a victim of Hiroshima. She was told folding one thousand paper cranes would make your wish come true. Naturally she wished to live. She reached 700-and-something before she died.
The Chairman has graciously covered the cost of his bills. Mama Tobias said grimly, “It will just be a matter of time before the costs of his funeral will have to be taken care of.”
This broke my heart.
Day 80
T’is the season for weddings
I’ve missed out on a number of weddings back home but more than made up for it with the amount I’ve attended here. In the 3 months I’ve been here, I’ve gone to 3 wedding events. Today I attended my 4th event, and second Kitchen Party.
The girl I’m living with Hoyce, is getting married to a Zambian and invited me to her ever-so-wholesome Kitchen Party (See Day 30). It was much more liberal and progressive than the last Kitchen Party I attended where the bride-to-be was instructed to be submissive to her husband and “anticipate his needs”.
Though there was one piece of advice I felt was questionable:
When you are angry with your husband, rather than lashing out at him, go to the bathroom first and release all your angry thoughts in front of the mirror. When you are through, flush them all down the toilet. You will feel much better than if you talk to your husband about it.
Yikes…
Forget this flushing down the toilet nonsense; if I’m pissed at my husband, he’ll hear from me, and then some!
Day 81
Winter coming to an end
Dar es Salaam’s “winter” is coming to an end. We are slowly transitioning from hot, to hot and humid. The barometer is rising from 30-degree weather to 35-40 degree heat wave. Let the sizzling begin.
Day 82
Bonding with the boys over bball
Played some basketball with the guys from the office, Baraka, Malik and Moses. The guys have been wanting to start up some games and each chipped in to buy a ball. They told me it took them a while to save up for it and I didn’t realize until then how much effort it takes to play any sport other than football (soccer). I’ve seen kids kicking around the most ragged, worn out, tattered balls that have been patched-up and stringed-up for preservation.
The guys invited me and I conditionally accepted to play with them. I played on my high school team and on an intramural league back in the day but it’s been a while since I’ve even dribbled a ball. So I agreed to play only if they went easy on me.
We trekked out to a schoolyard that had an open court. They kept taunting me with “white men can’t jump”. I showed them, I’m neither white nor a man. For a girl, up against hard-core basketball African dudes, I didn’t do too shabby …(ok, I’ll admit I played a little dirty!)
Fun times.
Day 83
Sleeeeeeeeepy
It’s 8pm, I just got home. I’m exhausted. I’m skipping dinner and going to bed now.
Usiku mwema (goodnight)
Day 84
Cooking Chinese, African style
Halima invited me to her place for dinner and wanted me to show her Chinese cooking. I planned to show her Chinese fried rice and a stir-fry vegetable dish. The number of English words she knows can be added on one hand, so it was a rather interesting night communicating with each other.
She lives in a communal house with a family where she stays in one of the bedrooms on her own. The homes of my co-workers reflect ‘middle-class’ living, while the very poor live in shacks in slums and shantytowns. On the other hand, the poor in rural villages live in one room mud huts and straw shacks and from hand to mouth.
When got to her place she showed me into the common area where the women do their cooking over charcoal stoves. (There is no kitchen). It is during cooking that women bond and share tips and other life experience. There are no counter tops, you crouch down, hover over, or sit on low stools, cooking over these stoves and it takes forever.
She brought out an apron for me to tie around my waist and we sat on the ground to begin cooking. She got the veggies out and we began preparing them. She handed me the carrots and I asked her for a peeler.
…She didn’t know what a peeler was.
When we got to cooking rice I made the mistake of asking her where her rice cooker was… oops!
…poor thing looked so confused.
I didn’t even attempt asking her where her wok was.
...you’d think I’d remember these things by now, but you forget and take little things for granted like a vegetable peeler, rice cooker and wok.
An hour and a half later the charcoal finally finished cooking everything and we actually managed to get by without the fancy apparatus (although had it been available it would’ve taken no more than 15 minutes). The food didn’t turn out bad at all either -it didn’t taste right on, but I didn’t expect it to. By the end of the night, my Swahili had run out and I had to break out my dictionary and consult it for every other word to continue to carry-on a conversation with her. It was pretty exhausting.
I actually enjoyed the rough minimalist African cooking experience and learned a lot more from her than she did me. But all things considered, I still prefer my rice cooker and wok to the charcoal stove, and preparing food in under half ‘n hour.
Day 85
Mozambique comes to Dar
Two women from an AIDS org in Mozambique were sent by their donors to shadow us for a week and exchange information for them to bring back to their communities. Their organization receives funding from the same source TANOPHA also receives a good share of funds.
They were sent here to observe our programs so that they can take back the information to their own programs and hopefully improve outreach to PLHA’s in Mozambique. This past week they have been following us around in the field and taking notes while we did treatment counselling and nutrition workshops with different groups.
The state of HIV/AIDS in Eastern Africa
It was interesting to learn that Mozambique’s government compared to Tanzania, is not as committed to helping in the HIV/AIDS efforts. Here it has been declared a national crisis for a few years now and much funding has gone through the government in efforts to help control the pandemic through prevention, education programs, testing sites and access to drugs.
In Mozambique, we learned many people who are in desperate need of ARV’s cannot access them because they are not widely available in the country as they are here in Tanzania. There are no available funds at the national level for programs and services and they have had to seek funding from other international donors.
Also, compared to Tanzania their level of stigma is much worse, and to compound the problem, education and literacy is lower. Some villages still carry the belief that HIV/AIDS is caused by witchcraft. Infected individuals seek out village witchdoctors for healing but grow even more ill when the remedy fails to do its ‘magic’.
What I found sickening is that some people try to capitalize on the disease and whip up all sorts of concoctions with claims of a cure and sell potions of sugar water. Sadly, people are so desperate and afraid to come out in the open to their communities, that they buy into these scams and self-remedy, only to meet their death shortly after.
South Africa we learned from other partners, is the most open and progressive African county in addressing HIV/AIDS. Tanzania still has a long way to go, and Mozambique, even further so there is still much to learn.
Day 86
Cha-Ching!!!!!!!
My kick-ass grant proposal I wrote for USAIDS just scored us $250,000 USD to set up more Voluntary Counselling and Treatment Centres across the country!! How awesome is that! But that was just the easy part. Now that funds are coming through, the hard work begins. In the meantime I’m breaking out the champagne and celebrating tonight.
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