DAYS 28 – 40

Day 28

The start of my 26th year

It wasn’t a particularly ‘happy’ birthday, it was actually quite sad. I was too shattered and depressed to write about yesterday’s happenings, but now that I’ve had a day to digest everything am I purging all my emotions.

My parents woke me up when they called to wish me a happy birthday in the morning. They were bickering over the phone, my dad profusely apologizing cause I was woken up, and chastising my mom for being too antsy and not waiting another hour to call, and my mom waiving him off, pestering me with a dozen questions at once, while I was on speakerphone. Hearing their voices and squabbling made me feel homesick all of a sudden.

When I got to the office, Bruno sprung an assignment on me to accompany an officer to a rural town nearby, to survey a Voluntary Counselling and Treatment Cantre (VCT) administering ARV’s (Anti retroviral drugs). It was about an hour’s drive via bumpy and jagged dirt roads (there are only paved roads in the city). I had been working in a cozy environment so far and wasn’t at all prepared for the sight I saw on my first field assignment.

When we arrived, there was already a massive crowd of people who had been travelling since very early in the morning to collect their medication and others waiting to get tested. I have been around many HIV+ individuals at the office who are doing quite well and very healthy you wouldn’t even know they were positive, so it was a complete shock to see the state these people were in. They were so weak, frail and wasting away.

There were young girls waiting in line to get tested and I learned some of them had been sexually abused and now testing to see what the repercussions are. There were school-aged children who I thought were still infants cause they were so small from stunted growth and wasting. The children who were there were brought by their Grandmothers cause their parents had already died of AIDS.

I learned some of the people had travelled a good 50+ km to the centre just to access meds. A lot of them were suffering from other opportunistic infections hoping to get meds for these separate ailments but Tanzania does not yet have a program for meds to treat other HIV related infections other than the actual ARV’s.

Mothers were in line to have their babies tested incase they had passed on the virus either through breast milk or MTCT during birth (Mother to child transmission). Babies cannot be tested for HIV until after 18 months because the virus is not yet detectible in their bodies while their proteins are still maturing. So the babies brought in for testing were at least 18 months and older but still looked much younger from frailty. Children on ARV’s can have a prolonged life but few will live to see the age of 20. Making it to their teens is a bonus, but anything beyond that is not at all likely.

There was one mother who was struggling with a toddler and infant so I helped her out and took the infant while she dealt with the other kid. The baby was so tiny, a plastic doll would have been heavier. It was sad looking around knowing that some of those children in the state they’re in have a very small chance of living through the year, and the ones that make it past their youth will still not live a full life.

The effectiveness of ARV’s depends entirely on their nutritional status so if it’s poor, it won’t do them any good and it’ll be a matter of time before they progress from HIV to full blown AIDS. Many of them are already suffering from opportunistic infections and are not qualified to receive ARV’s unless their CD4 count is 200 or below. Compared to the healthy people I’ve seen living in the city, these people in this town live from hand to mouth. Some can only afford to eat one meal a day, especially when productivity is low when they can’t work because of their illness whenever opportunistic infections develop.

Baraka, the officer in charge handed me a clipboard and told me to get to work but I stood there frozen, in shock. I knew all the facts and figures, I know all the research inside and out, and I was very much aware of the state of poverty, but seeing it and experiencing it first-hand was completely different and I was crushed at the reality of it when I realized how bad it was.

We got to work, gathering and collecting data to bring back for assessments and reports. We wrapped up later that day and Baraka brought me back to the office. Exhausted from the day’s work in the heat, I just wanted to go home right away but Jehova, the secretary asked me to stay behind to look over a document. I was kind of annoyed but waited anyway… it turns out they were surprising me with cake.

A bunch of staff burst in through the door singing their version of Happy Birthday with a cake that had my name written on it (spelled incorrectly, but I love them all for their thoughtfulness just the same). I was already so overwhelmed from the day, feeling homesick, and completely caught off guard from their surprise that I started tearing up.

Neema, the other girl my age said, “I hope you’re not missing your family and friends too much because you have family and friends here in Africa too”, referring to the staff, I was so touched by this I just cried even more. I went home that night, feeling very emotional and sad from the day’s events.


Day 29

Mayhem at Kariakoo Market (Kah-ree-ah-koh)

If I’ve been slowly easing myself into African life, today’s market experience was the final initiation. It doesn’t even compare to the fish markets -which already smelled bad. The people who were thrusting fish in my face last week were tame compared to the merchants at Kariakoo who were now thrusting knives, toenail clippers, sugar cane strips, bags of peanuts and other random items.

Kariakoo is the largest, most popular, most crowded market place in Dar es Salaam. Anything imaginable you ever want to buy can be found at Kariakoo. It is where your haggling skills are put to the test; otherwise foreigners are easy targets to rip-off.

I went with Johanne, the French Canadian Lawyer, who has been living here for the past two years and is more than familiar with the drill at Kariakoo. She called me early in the morning to give me a quick orientation over the phone.

• Don’t bring knapsacks cause thieves will slice through the bottom when you’re not paying attention, to access any valuable belongings.
• Don’t wear anything fancy that will stand out, and try as reasonably possible to blend into the crowd (heh, fat chance of that).
• Leave your camera at home. You’ll feel worse when you find it’s been stolen than if you missed what you think it a great photo-op.
• Wear a money belt under your clothes or secured purse you can keep slung in front of you, and zippered shut.
• The rule of thumb she advised me, was to get as close to half of their asking price, otherwise they’re ripping you off

When we arrived and began to make our way through the centre all you can hear is “Hey Mzungu, Hey Mchina!”, from the merchants trying to get your attention, welcoming you to their stand. It was pretty disorienting. This place made Boxing Day at the Eaton Centre seem like a walk in the park… and I absolutely HATE boxing day shopping and avoid the large crowds at all cost!

I managed not to have an anxiety attack in the city centre and even bought a few items -two skirts for parties coming up I’ve been invited to. I’m a pushover when it comes to bartering and had to let Johanne do the haggling for me cause I was ready to cave after the price went down only a dollar or two.

Visiting Baraka’s home

I met with Baraka later in the afternoon who invited me to his place for dinner. He is another programme officer from a partner AIDS org, a year older than me who I’ve been working closely with. During work, he’s a drill sergeant and barks orders at you and doesn’t care if he hurt your feelings as long as you learn to do the job right.

When we were in the field together he was particularly hard on me cause my Swahili wasn’t fluid enough as he expected it to be. He refused to translate for me a few times cause he thought I should understand by now. Give me a break, I’ve barely been here a month! But as soon as we step outside of work he completely softens and it’s like he’s an entirely different person. We get along great outside of work, but I have trouble reading him sometimes and don’t know if he’ll be the easy-going Baraka, or the tough, hard-ass Baraka.

He picked me up at my place and showed me the route to his house. He lives about 25 minutes away by bus. When we got to his neighbourhood there were a bunch of young boys who flocked around him wanting to play soccer. We kicked the ball around for a bit, before he motioned at me to get going and we continued walking to his house.

When we got to his place his older sister Jehova was hand-washing laundry in tubs outside. Their home consists of a small room for their living area, and another even smaller room for their bedroom. They have a communal kitchen and bathroom they share with neighbours. The bathroom is an outhouse, and the toilet is a hole in the ground you have to squat over. Their living area is a small cramped room filled with very basic furniture. The floor was concrete, lined with what looked like drawer paper.

Jehova is pregnant with her first child and due any day now. Her husband is away working in Morogoro so her brother’s been looking after her. They’re originally from Arusha but left to go to school in Dar es Salaam, and both ended up with jobs here and haven’t gone back since other than to visit. Their family is also originally Masaii, but not very traditional.

La Cucaracha

We were sitting around and chatting, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a big black thing scurry across the floor. No, it wasn’t a mouse it was a huge giant cockroach!! I quickly pulled my feet up on the chair on impulse and they laughed at me, , probably thinking I was such a sheltered priss…but it was huge though, I’m not exaggerating!

They served rice and beans for dinner and papaya for dessert with a really nice tasting ginger tea. I thoroughly enjoyed their company, talking with them getting to know them.


Day 30

Kitchen Party

I’ve been invited to a co-worker’s wedding and before the actual wedding it’s customary to have a series of pre-wedding celebrations. One of them is the “Kitchen Party” which is their very wholesome version of a bachelorette. I’ve been to my share of bachelorette’s and I’ll admit I was a little disappointed to find that it was nothing like the good times back home. No males attend the “Kitchen Party”, and certainly no male strippers.

It is a party where women are supposed to bond, and the older women impart their counsel to the bride-to-be, tips on how to be a good wife to her husband and the key to a happy marriage. I went with Neema another girl from the office, and she translated into English the presentations and I had to keep myself from laughing out loud at some of the things the women were saying: “Try to anticipate his needs, so that he doesn’t have to ask and he will appreciate and love you even more and you’ll be happier”. I wonder what words of wisdom the men are advising the husband-to-be and if it’s this involved and thoughtful.

I know I’m young, I grew up in the west where divorce rates are 50%, I’m not married yet or getting married anytime soon, and I haven’t even lived half my life, but at the very least I’d like to think I’ve learned a thing or two about personal happiness and how a lot of it has to do with reciprocity. It would take an awful lot to get me wait on him hand and foot like the women here are taught to do. And if gestures like ‘anticipating needs’ and the whole lot aren’t reciprocated then it’s not very motivating or fulfilling and I won’t feel compelled to do it at all.

Tanzanian women it seems are still struggling to find their identity, even those who are well educated. Otherwise they’re completely content in being identified as so-and-so’s wife, and their purpose is to birth and raise children.

Thank you mom

Growing up, I found some of the things my mom drilled into my sisters and I rather annoying at times. She’d constantly repeat things like “Books before boys”, and “remember, the bridal shower comes before the baby shower”. But lately, now that we’re older and past that point, she’s been repeating, “No daughter of mine is going to end up a housewife”, and “You’re a nobody if all you are is somebody’s wife”.

When I was deciding whether to go, my mom was very supportive, it was my dad who had reservations about me leaving. In a way she’s been living vicariously through my sisters and I who have had opportunities she never had when she was our age. I was torn about leaving Anthony who naturally wasn’t thrilled about me going away, but in the end understood my need to do this. We’ve been doing the long-distance thing for the past two years and it’s already been tough as it is. He’s going into his last year of Law School and we would’ve been apart this year anyway while he’s finishing up in Windsor.

My mom said to me “What’s another year? Don’t ever put your life on hold or sacrifice your career for him. You’ll regret it and end up resenting him. After 7 years together now’s a good time as any to test your relationship. And if he’s still around when you get back you’ll know he’s worth coming back to.”

So far we’ve made it work. If only mothers would impart this kind of wisdom and encouragement at these kitchen parties.


Day 31

One month down, 11 to go

Deciding whether to take this job was probably one of the hardest decisions I’ve had to make in my life so far. It was a really rigorous interview and screening process and they didn’t hold back. They drilled me with questions I never anticipated, challenged every answer I gave and made me second-guess myself all throughout the session. I left the interview thinking that was the end of it and went home ready to forget the whole thing and move on.

It was a complete shock when they called a few weeks later offering me the posting. I couldn’t believe they had chosen me and went through a whole range of emotions mulling over the decision.

PRO: It’s a competitive field and only so many Canadians are given the opportunity to represent Canada. I figure, I’m young, still new in my career, not married yet or tied down to a family, it would be the perfect time in my life to be able to do something like this.

CON: My travel and living expenses are covered and I receive a very modest salary so I’m not losing money or incurring any costs, but I don’t expect to save a whole lot in the next year.

PRO: On the other hand.. money is money is money is money.. right? there will always be time to save money but you only live once to be able to experience something like this.

CON: I was quite ill a few years back and although my health has significantly improved, it would still pose a risk, not yet considering other risks such as contracting Malaria, Cholera or even HIV/AIDS.

PRO: It would give me valuable experience I wouldn’t get anywhere else, and build me up towards new career prospects when I get back.

CON: I would miss my family, friends and Anthony. I thought of my grandma who I’m very close to, and getting up there in age. I couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to her while I was gone. I thought of Anthony and how we’d deal with a year apart. Considering the cost of long distance to Africa, very slow and unreliable internet connections, and different time zones, is it even practical to maintain a relationship from the other side of the globe? Where would that leave us? Will it be 'absence makes the heart grow fonder', or 'out of sight, out of mind'?

PRO: On the other hand what about new friendships and relationships I'd make?

CON: What if I can't handle the challenge? I was told that the friends you make and people and children you work with might suddenly disappear one day, and you find out later that they had died from HIV/AIDS or other diseases. I was warned that there would be moments I'll feel powerless and situations I won't have control over. What if I can't handle this?

When I made my decision, it came down to:

PRO: I would be doing what I believe in and am most passionate about.

I left everything I love back home including my job, my family, and friends to go to a new country, and immerse myself with new people, a new language, and new life, not knowing what’s in store for me. It was a big chance to take and I took it. I know this is something I voluntary signed up for and no matter how tough things get over the year there’s no going back now.


Day 32

Mama Tobias

Mama Tobias has adopted me right from the start. She is a widower with 5 children who are all grown and moved out in different parts of the country. She has 3 sons and 2 daughters but one of them passed away a few years ago from AIDS so she is now living alone.. She’s a very bold, wise older woman in her late 50’s who is also very well read and also very affectionate. When I had my breakdown the other day she held me and it felt so natural, like my own mother was calming and comforting me.
She’s a headstrong woman who speaks her mind and doesn’t care if she’s stepping on toes if it’s the truth. She outwardly rebukes the colonial powers and admonishes the west for their ignorance when it comes to Africa and her fellow Africans.

On the Berlin Conference: “They sat around a table and divided us up like pieces of cake.”
On missionaries: “They turned paganism into something negative and made us out to be godless savages”
On British Colonial rule: “We had to sing to God asking him to save their Queen; she wasn’t really our Queen!”
On the fight between German and Britain to rule Tanzania: “We were passed back and forth like a rag doll between juvenile girls.”
On Victoria Day in Canada: “Aahaha you still celebrate Queen Victoria’s birthday? You Canadians are babies of Britain.”
On Canada’s ties to Britain: “What’s the point of the Governor General? You funny Canadians.” (I’ve wondered this myself!)

She’s has a lot of pride for Africa and her fellow Africans, and will lightly remark to put you in your place when you say something that diminishes Africans in any way. Like when I mentioned I didn’t pack anything dressy to wear for special occasions, she responded, “Did you think Africa was a jungle full of savages that you would never have an occasion to dress up and attend parties or weddings?”. But there’s always a playful tone in her voice indicating she’s just trying to push your buttons so it never goes over the edge.

She takes joy in little momentous occasions she can chronicle as retribution to the West. When she was recalling the funeral of Julius Nyerere she was particularly fond of the scene of several nation leaders and representatives from all over the world in attendance. She mischievously snickered “They couldn’t each have their own limo because there were too many, and it would require too much security. So instead they loaded them all onto one bus and drove them to the national stadium with no AC. They were in their fancy suits, sweating like horses! Imagine watching those refined men, in such an undignified state!”

When I’m working at the office we usually break for lunch together and she’ll take me to different eateries close by. When men hit on me, or offer marriage proposals she’ll chide them playfully and remark that because she’s my “mama” here, they’d have to pay my dowry to her (the Tanzanian tradition is for men to pay the girl’s dowry to her family). It’s been a running joke that she’s purposefully set my “bride price” high so that no man could ever afford me. Damn straight no man can afford me!

Sometimes while we’re in the office she’ll suddenly burst out in song and I always find it a delight when she sings. I’ve learned that Mama sings when she’s either happy or sad. When she’s excited and bubbly about something she’ll start singing cheerful melodies. When she was remembering her late daughter the other day she sung a very melancholy tune that was in her tribal language and I was very moved.

She sings songs from her childhood and it’s amazing how she remembers all these songs so clearly and their meanings. She sung a song that went through the history of Tanzania dating back from the colonial era, to when they were struggling to gain their independence from British rule. She was still a child during Tanzania’s plight for independence but seemed to be very conscious of it as she recollects the Tanzania’s first president, Julius Nyerere was elected and transformed the nation for the better. She said she will teach me the song when my Swahili gets better.

She’s such a lively woman; she reminds me of my own mother who’s also very young at heart and good-humoured. When it comes to Mama, it’s like I never left home. I’ve gone from one mother to another here in Africa.


Day 33

Deadlines, deadlines, deadlines

Bruno’s assigned me to work on a proposal to USAIDS (which I think the majority of the funds came from none other than Bill Gates). Today is Wednesday and the deadline is next week.

I’m working with an older doctor who’s hoping to expand the MTCT (Mother to child transmission) prevention programme at the VCT (Voluntary counsel and treatment) centre he is managing, and the director of another partner org, ANAT (Advocacy network for AIDS in Tanzania) and Baraka, the other programme officer.

We’ve spent this week so far surveying the sites to gather info for the proposal and today was spent doing more fieldwork, then scrambling to plug away through the application at the office. We have 6 days.


Day 34

How many Tanzanians does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

I’m all about teamwork, and enjoy collaborating with colleagues in a cooperative environment when it’s conducive, but for this particular assignment, it’s been excruciatingly painful!! It’s taking an eternity just to agree on objectives, definitions and word choices. When dealing with large bodies like the UN, they are real stickler when it comes to language, and each and every word carries a lot of weight. One word could throw off the whole application for eg. Taking ‘offensive’ vs. ‘deterrent’ actions against the spread of HIV/AIDS.

Baraka at work

Baraka and I have developed this pattern where we’re very good friends outside of work, but as soon as we step into the office, or working in the field together it’s a power struggle, and we’re in competition to have the last word. We’ve gotten around our disagreements by diffusing it with jokes, but lately I’ve felt he’s been really hard on me and I’m no longer in the mood to joke around anymore.

I know he’s doing it for my benefit so I’ll pick up and learn quickly but sometimes it’s too harsh. I’m trying hard not to take it personally but feel discouraged nonetheless. Today I was enormously piqued when we entered an intense argument and he pulled out the big guns and all but said “what do you know, you’re just a girl”.

Baraka at play

Outside of work, Baraka’s a completely different person. He’s sweet, affectionate, nurturing and protective, but not overbearing and smothering like some of the other officers my age I’ve worked with. Despite our head-to-head at the office today, I agreed to go dancing and he took me to a local “disco” as they call it here, in town. As soon as we hit the floor, the stress and tension evaporated and we had a lot of fun.

He lives about 25-30 minutes away from my place, but still insisted on walking me all the way home at the end of the night. We had been chattering about other stuff when work-related things inevitably came up, and I grew quiet thinking about how harsh he had been earlier today. When we got to my front door he broke the silence and offered what I think may have been an apology: “I think you have good ideas, we’ll see if we can use some of them”.


Day 35

Girl bonding

I went out for lunch with the other girls, Neema, Pascazia, and Halima. The girls at the office all work in admin and finance so I barely see them when I’m out doing fieldwork and when I’m in the office I’m usually working in a different room with the other programme officers. So it was nice to be able to bond with them a bit more. Neema was born the same year as me, so she’s been calling me ‘her twin’. She’s very chirpy, and has a very animated personality. Pascazia is the cheeky one, constantly joking around and trying to stir up trouble between people at the office. I learned she has been HIV+ for about 5 years now. She just turned 31. Halima’s father is the deputy chairman of the organization who is also HIV+. She is very reserved and aloof and it takes a while to get her to warm up to you.

Thanks Mom, part II

My dear mother called to check up on me because she rented “Last King of Scotland” the night before, and that caused her to worry about my welfare and safety. She has all of a sudden taken an interest in other African politics and following closely the Mugabe story in Zimbabwe. When I applied for a posting in the Sudan last year and she already flipped out when all I had done so far was go to the interview. She knows I’m far enough away from the notable countries of unrest like the Sudan, Somalia, DR Congo etc.. so has now zoned in on Zimbabwe, which to her, is too close for comfort.

Safe & Secure

Tanzania is one of the most peaceful countries in Africa and it’s highly unlikely that anything bad should happen [knock on wood!]. Other country natives, and not Tanzanians usually stirred up any issues they’ve had. On the outskirts where Tanzania has received refugees from neighbouring countries including Uganda, Rwanda and D.R. Congo, there have been some feuding and animosity as these populations trickled in. Aggressors who were instrumental in the genocide in Rwanda sought refuge in Tanzania and began to stir up trouble.

But other the U.S. Embassy bombing in 1999 and the war instigated by Uganda during Idi Amin’s rule over 30 years ago, there haven’t been any major conflicts. Of course Tanzania has its’ share of crime but name one place where there isn’t any. And if anything should ever happen during our stay, Ottawa has reassured us we’ll be evacuated immediately.


Day 36

My first ride on the “Bajaji” (Bah-Jah-Jee)

Baraka and I went to Henry’s wedding together and getting there was already quite the adventure. He came to pick me up at my place and we headed part of the way on a crowded dala dala. To get to the reception hall we had to switch buses, which ran along a very high traffic road. My nausea was already kicking-in from the first bus we took so I begged him not to make me get on another bus. “Ok fine” he said, “We’ll take a Bajaji instead”.

The “Bajaji” are the taxi-motorcycles they have here, like the “tricycle” in the Philippines, the “tuk tuk” in Thailand, or “Piki Piki” in India. Baraka flagged one down and chattered with the driver negotiating a price. We rode for probably a good 25 km and it cost the equivalent of $4 dollars, Canadian.

The moment we got on my life flashed before my eyes! They’re small enough that they can dart in and out of traffic to get past all the buses and cars, but cut so incredibly close, and veer at the very last second it’s a miracle we didn’t crash! They also drive on the shoulder of the road so close to the ditches I thought we would plummet to our deaths! I hung onto Baraka for dear life and he and the driver kept laughing at me. Miraculously, we got there in one piece!

Henry’s Wedding

TANOPHA staff attended and it was nice getting to know everyone from the office under a different setting that was laidback and relaxed. It was my third wedding event I have attended so far since I’ve been here. The first two were a Send-Off celebration, and Kitchen Party. This was my first actual wedding and it was very interesting to see how they celebrate marriages here.

The reception hall was under a large bamboo canopy, where a band of brass instruments and drums were playing as people piled in. The bride and groom entered and everyone went wild, cheering, whooping, and tooting. The program throughout the night was series of variations of traditional dances and singing.

Before eating, the bride and groom cut their goat. They don’t have cake here, it’s all about cutting the goat. Here, a goat is a must-have at your wedding. A full goat (with the head still on it) is wheeled in, and they cut into it like it’s a cake and feed it to each other. It is after this point that you begin to make your way to the buffet table and can claim a ‘piece of goat’ to eat. There was a good variety of rice, vegetable dishes and meats and the roasted goat wasn’t bad at all.

The highlight of the programme is the gift giving. Different family groups took their turn going up to the front, carrying their gift over their head, to present it to the new couple. The groom’s family presented to them a bundle of rope, which was representative of the cow they’re giving them. Getting a cow as a wedding gift is a very big deal and good start to a prosperous marriage.

Towards the end, there was one very touching moment in the celebration where the women gather around the mother of both the bride and groom to drape over them, the finest and most elaborate kanga’s (Cloth they use to make African style dresses with), as gifts to honour them for rearing their children. It’s a very regal gesture and they do this while singing a rich, lyrical Swahili song.

The party was over by 1am and Baraka and I hitched a ride home with Bruno, my employer.


Day 37

Shopping Mall

Johanne, showed me a mall they have here. It’s in the middle of nowhere and a bit of a trek to go by bus, but once you get there it no longer feels like you’re in Africa. I discovered this is where the expat community flocks. Walking through the mall is actually quite disconcerting cause for a moment you forget you’re in a third world country. We picked up some groceries at the Shoprite, which is their Wallmart. Afterwards we saw Ocean’s 13 in the theatre. The movie itself was bleh, and it felt weird to watch something so American, then step outside onto the dirt roads of Africa again.


Day 38

Monday at work

Things are horribly unorganized here. I don’t have problems working in hectic environments and have even produced some of my best work, while under pressure. But the way things are run here doesn’t even come close to the organized chaos I’m used to. I had gone into the office on Saturday morning to get more work done but still have a lot to finish, that today I’ve brought work home with me to try and plough through. I’m putting in more hours here than when I worked back home, and getting paid less for it!!


Day 39

I’m gonna lose it!

Things are getting crazy. I feel like I’m being pulled in 12 different directions. As soon as I step into the office 12 different people are asking me to do 12 different things. They’re really putting me through the mill and squeezing all they can from me while I’m here.

We haven’t finished budgeting yet so Baraka came over to my place after work to continue working on this thing. He left after 9pm. We’re still not done and have to finish up tomorrow. Tomorrow is the deadline. I haven’t had dinner. Not gonna bother. Too tired.


Day 40

Ahhhhhh African time!!

The USAIDS proposal we’ve been working on for the past week was due today and we sent it in via email TWENTY MINUTES before the deadline at 5pm!!!

They better grant us the damn money after we poured so much into this!!!!

DAYS 17 - 27

Day 17

Kiswahili thus far

My Swahili is progressing slowly but surely. I’m building up my vocabulary everyday and try to speak as much as I can until I’ve exhausted every word I know. It’s a fairly simple language to learn with standard greetings and replies that everyone is familiar with. I’ve also been using my other languages to help me remember words that sound similar.

-’Left’ in Tagalog is ‘kaliwa’, but in Swahili ‘kulia’ is right.
-‘salamat’ in Tagalog is thank you, in Swahili ‘salama’ is ‘in good health’

-Si for yes in Spanish is now negative in Swahili:
Eg.
Nina dada (I have sisters) vs. Sina Kaka (I don’t have brothers)
Ninapenda embe (I like mangoes) v. Sipendi maziwa (I don’t like milk)
-meza is also used for table in Swahili
-I used ‘chupa’ for ‘lollipop’ in Spanish, in Swahili it’s now ‘bottle’.

-‘Haya’ in Cantonese is also in agreement in Swahili.

A little bit of Swahili History (from the Lonely Planet, which has been my bible since I’ve been here!)

“Swahili” means ‘of the coast’, from the Arabic word sāhil and refers to both the Swahili language and Islamic culture of people living in Eastern Africa, from Somalia in the north, down to Mozambique in the south. Both Swahili language and culture is a mixture of Bantu, Arabic, Persian and Asian influences.

About 10k years ago, nomadic hunter/gatherers dispersed across Africa and brought to the east end a language similar to southern Africa’s Khoisan. Cut to 3-5k years ago, and the Khoisan speakers were coupled with Cushitic speaking farmers and cattle herders who made their way to present day Ethiopia. More migrations would happen before Tanzanians can trace their ancestry to about 1000 BC. Bantu speakers from Niger delta in the west end began to move east into what’s now Cameroon, D.R. of Congo (formerly Zaire), and then into what is now considered Eastern Africa.

These Bantu speakers brought with them skills in agriculture and iron production, and settled into villages. Pretty soon, they displaced or absorbed the Cushitic and Khoisan speakers and became more prominent. Nilotic people, who are ancestors of the Maasai, made their entry for the final wave of migrations into the 18^th century. At this time, Omani Arabs dominated Zanzibar (they were engaged in slave trade over there) and it was then that Swahili culture began to flourish.

The great trade caravan routes solidified the Swahili language as a colloquial dialect in Eastern and Central Africa. And of course what’s African history without the invasion of the good ‘ol West (they’re still pretty indifferent to the West here and I don’t blame them). Missionaries crept onto the continent, and adopted the language as their primary means of communicating with the locals.

Up until then, Swahili had been written exclusively in Arabic script, but some dude named Johann Ludwik Krapf decided it would be better applied in the Roman alphabet. By the 19^th century, Swahili became the mother tongue for a majority of Tanzanians, although some speak it as a 2^nd language or as a 2^nd mother tongue together with their tribal language.

What I found interesting about the language so far is they have different classes for nouns. Nouns have a completely different verb agreement depending on its class, which include –people, places, animals, insects, inanimate objects and body parts. It gets confusing especially when it comes to possessive pronouns because “my books” will have a different subject/pronoun agreement from “my family” because books would fall under the ‘inanimate objects’ class of nouns, and ‘family’ would fall under ‘people’ class of nouns.

Vitabu vyangu (my books)
Ndugu zangu (my family)

Hakuna Matata

Yes, Disney movies have actually taught me a thing or two and “Hakuna Matata” is a real expression in Swahili and really means “no worries”, their version of “hasta maňana”. Also “Simba” really does mean lion!

Day 18

What have I gotten myself into..

Feeling awfully sick, I can’t take the nausea anymore. I’m this close to quitting the anti malaria drugs, but I’ve been told malaria’s no fun ride either!

Am I gonna survive the year…?

Day 19

No power, no work

The power was out all afternoon and I felt the whole day was wasted away. When the power goes out, the work stops. Our office being in a grungy part of town does not have backup generators and we’re stuck in a small, smelly, hot, cramped room where we work in close quarters. The office gets chaotic, especially since we’re up against deadlines to secure monies from the global fund.

There are 5 computers shared amongst 14 staff in total, including myself. Only one of the five computers is connected to the internet and printer. It gets really aggravating when you’re working on that computer, in the middle of something and all of a sudden a window pops out of nowhere cause someone has just gone ahead and stuck their flash drive in the computer to print a document.

Today I couldn’t hear myself think. With the power gone out, and a deadline tomorrow everyone was frantically scrambling around the office. Bruno left for a conference in Johannesburg on Monday ‘kindly’ left me a proposal for the African Medical Research Fund (AMREF) due on Thursday. Today is Wednesday.

I brought the work home with me to complete on my computer which only had 30% battery power left. I was able to finish just in time, before the battery completed depleted (I’m pretty good, huh!). It is now 9pm and the power has just been restored.

I’ve thought about offering my laptop for office use and bringing it with me everyday but don’t want to risk getting robbed on the way to or from work which I’ve heard happens to a lot of foreigners.

Day 20

Boycotting the Dala Dala

I’ve given up on the smelly “Dala Dala” (their name for the buses here which aren’t really buses, but transport vans) and get off the moment I feel nauseous. It isn’t enough to breath through my mouth anymore, it’s an awful stink that’s a pungent mix of body odour, cheap perfume and other unidentifiable smells I don’t even want to know. I was never big on perfume and hardly wear the stuff, but the women and girls here pile the stuff on that mixed in with the other smells it’s just unbearable.

The ride to work is only about 25-30 minutes and I ride for as much as I can stand it, before I feel nauseous and get off, usually at the halfway mark, then walk the rest of the way. It’s nice and cool in the morning so it’s a great walk, and I don’t have to worry about the danger of throwing up on the people I’m crammed up against.

I walk home everyday now which takes just over an hour depending on how many stops I make. The village I walk through is filled with so many shops and stands where they sell a variety of different fresh fruits, veggies, & nuts. I usually make a stop to pick up some fruit, which ends up being my dinner.

There is a clearing along the path I walk where a bunch of kids are always playing in the dirt. They’re so friendly and eager to talk to you and play, I stop and ‘hang out’ with them for a bit. They know my name now and holler at me whenever I walk by and I’ll talk to them with as much Swahili before I exhaust my supply of words.

Also I’ve learned to ‘walk like an African’ and take my time to stroll through the village and actually enjoy soaking it in this way. There is so much to take in it feels surreal at times and I have to remind myself it’s real and people really do live the way the do here.

Re: Lack of photos

Everyone back home’s been emailing and demanding to see pictures so I’ve finally posted some but I have to warn you, they’ll be very boring. It’s mostly scenery, what my house & bedroom looks like, and a fruit stand.

When I’m out walking around I’m usually by myself, and it isn’t safe for me to whip out the camera without risking getting robbed. I don’t even answer my cell phone in public and wait until I’m home to take it out at all. That was the first piece of advise I got from all the locals, and other foreigners here. People here have been known to snatch cell phones right out of a person’s hand and run off.

But to be honest, no matter how well captured (and I’m not much of a photographer anyway) pictures will never do this place justice… I know it sounds so contrived but pictures really aren’t enough to exhibit the reality of what I see on a daily basis. Any photos I take are more for the benefit of people back home to see, than they are for me, cause images I see everyday will forever be etched in my mind.

But “hakuna matata” I’ll try my best to take more and post them anyway.

Day 21

My first Friday night out dancing –African style!

I’ve been here 3 weeks already but feeling sick the whole time I haven’t been able to really get out and enjoy myself just yet. Hoyce, the girl I’m living with, took me to a popular pub/club where locals like to go eat and dance. The place was packed. It was an outdoor area sheltered by a roof made from coconut leaves and cheap plastic patio furniture and chairs. There were a few other foreigners in the crowd so I didn’t feel so self-conscious unlike the last party I went to where I was the only non-black person and people wouldn’t stop starring.

When we got to the club, we hadn’t even sat down yet and guys were already asking for dances. I didn’t want to dance right away and wanted to just sit back and watch at first, but Hoyce pushed me forward and I more than got my feet wet.

I was exposed to a good deal of West African music in Mali, which has very similar rhythms to some Cuban and Latin music, hence the Afro-Cuban influence. Eastern African music seems a bit softer, gentler, not as intense and rhythmic as Western, but still has the passionate flair that I love in Latin American music. Dancing to it was absolutely exhilarating. We stayed t’ill after midnight and by the time we got home I was exhausted but thrilled that I had finally been able to enjoy a night out.

Day 22

Vivid Dreams

I wanted to sleep in today but the damn roosters don’t know that it’s Saturday and still crow at 5am. Additionally the dreams I have are really truly vivid and bizarre, and a number of completely random people have made appearances, from my MP who I met briefly before I left, to Mrs. Kim, my first-ever piano teacher who used to hit my hands with her ruler whenever I made mistakes. I wake up in the morning feeling like I haven’t really slept cause I’m so alert and active in my dreams.

Market Place

I’ve decided Saturdays will be my market day and ventured out to the beaches. It’s about a 30-minute bus ride, but I’m boycotting the Dala Dala so it took me an hour and a half to walk the whole way. It’s a wonderful walk though, there’s so much to see along the way and I get a good ocean breeze so walking in the heat isn’t so bad. I went to the fish stands and people are literally thrusting fish in your face to show you how fresh, plump, & healthy they are, urging you to buy. I picked out a slab of kingfish and baked it for dinner.

Christopher, the guard

I now know enough Swahili to be able to strike up a very simple conversation and learned the guard who I’ve been calling Tyrese (cause he looks like the singer) is actually named Christopher. He never smiled before but now he smiles when I approach the gate and we talk some, and even share a special handshake. I greet him good morning, he’ll ask me how I slept, I’ll say just fine, and he’ll wish me a good day, give his signature chuckle, clasp his rifle and I’ll be on my way out the gate.

My Saturday night

Hoyce invited me to go out dancing again, but after my long walk into town I didn’t have any energy to do anything else so just decided to stayed in for the night. I’m trying to pace myself with the books cause I’ve only been here just over 3 weeks and already finished 3 of them. So I decide to pop in some of the computer games I brought with me.

I collected those CD’s that come in cereal boxes and built up a library of games, which I kept until now. I found them while I was packing and moving out of my place and took them with me to keep me from boredom and thought they’d come in handy on a day like today. Before I knew it was addicted to Roller Coaster Tycoon!!

Day 23

Proud to be a Canadian

I went downtown to meet with the other Canadian, Johanne. She’s a French Canadian lawyer in her early 40’s working for Legal Aid Human Rights Tanzania. I’ve learned that books are a valuable currency here among other Cooperants and Expats. If we were in prison I would so be the guy on top and everyone else would be my bitches! She was elated to learn that I brought a large collection and was offering to pay me just to borrow some. I had to laugh and waived her off and told her of course she can borrow my books.

It was so nice to be able to talk to someone from home. It’s just dawned on me how much it means to be “Canadian’. I’ve done my share of travelling before but didn’t give it much thought until now, and was oblivious to how I was perceived as a Canadian. Whenever I tell people I come from Canada, they beam and immediately warm up to me. Someone once asked me if I identify as a Canadian or Filipino/Chinese, and I really wasn’t sure at the time. I guess you don’t really think of who you are until you leave home and have to present yourself to strangers as whatever it is you are.

But it’s different for those of us who are the first generation, born Canadian. We’re the ones caught in between, ‘grass without roots’ if you will. Here people are constantly asking me about, and comparing ‘life in Canada’. When I answer their questions about traditions, cultural habits, behaviours, attitudes etc etc and I find myself telling them all about the Filipino/Chinese habits we practice at home. That was when it struck me that this IS the ‘Canadian’ way of life, being able to practice your culture/heritage in a country so full of diversity.

I talk about both, general Canadian traditions, and people of other cultures within Canada. When I try and illustrate to them everything ‘Canadiana’, people here have a hard time grasping the range of lifestyles that can exist within a single nation. Up until now I haven’t given it much thought, and even taken it for granted. But I do love and very much appreciate being a Canadian.

Henry, a co-worker is constantly peppering me with questions, curious about life in Canada, and comparing our lifestyles and traditions. He’s always so intrigued and fascinated when he notes our commonalities and differences. The other day he asked me, “If I came to Canada, how would people see me?”. I thought about it for a brief moment, then answered, “You would simply be Henry”.

Day 24

Changes so far

My hands back in my piano days were once worth a pretty penny, now they’re dry, rough and chapped from the constant abuse of hand sanitizer. My feet are now grimy and coarse from the mosquito bites and dirt roads. I still have large scabs from when I scratched the bites along my legs and arms. Cause I don’t like wearing hats and walk outside a lot, I’m already a shade darker. I’m still building up immunity to their bugs in the food & water, and get queasy and stomach-achy from time to time. Other than fish I’ve stayed away from the meats, and load up on fresh fruits I buy almost everyday from the fruit stands I pass on my way home from work.

Day 25

Formalities

They are very big on formalities here and it can take forever just to greet someone. It goes back and forth for ages before you get to any actual conversation or the purpose of your meeting.

Standard greetings usually begins with

“Hujambo” to which you reply “Si jambo”
you are then asked “habari za mchana” (how is everything today?)
and you always reply “nzuri” (good)
then move on to ask how is everything at work: “habari za kazi?”, how is everything at home: “habari za nyumbani”
…and it goes on back and forth

If the person you are greeting older, or of higher status than you, you are to give the respectful greeting “Shikamoo” similar to the Filipino “mano po” or Chinese “akong/apau”.

You are then replied “marahaba” and then you can proceed with the regular greetings. I greet ‘mama’ everyday with ‘shikamoo’ and all the directors considered ‘high status’ or older persons I come across everyday. Sometimes random kids will go up to me and give me “shikamoo” and I have to answer “marahaba”

There are more laid back formal greetings reserved for colleagues around the same age as you or at the same level, “Mambo” or “Vipi Mambo”, to which the reply is “Poa”. It’s probably about the equivalent in English to “how’s it going” “it’s cool”

Day 26

Missing my routine back home

It is only after 9pm and I’m already drained. Back home I could get by on only 6 hours sleep and still have enough energy for an 18-hour day. I didn’t have a cozy sit-down job either, where I could relax behind a desk all the time. I did field work and was travelling across the GTA from as far as Durham to Peel region on any given day.

During the week I would work a full day, sometimes extra hours, head straight to Oxfam committee meetings afterwards, then meet with friends for dinner/drinks, and still managed to fit in either a workout or night of dancing, get home by 12:30 – 1am, wash up, do some reading or watch the repeat of the Daily Show & Colbert Report, in bed by 2am, and do the whole thing over again the next morning.

Friday nights would be the whole days routine plus a later night of dancing, or out at a movie, or hanging out with friends or family.

Saturdays I’d catch up on reading, do laundry and other errands, practice piano, spend time with my grandma (usually in the kitchen while she’s barking instructions at me how to cook the proper way), dance for a good 4 hours at salsa dance practice in the afternoon, followed by more dancing, movies or parties at night.

Sunday would be my day to recuperate and spend time with my parents, and grandma.

Here, the trek to and from work on the dreaded, smelly ‘Dala Dala’, the trips to town, and the work itself is already twice as exhausting and by the time I come back home I’m completely drained. I haven’t even begun fieldwork yet so I’m hoping it’s just my body still adjusting to my environment.

My routine in Africa so far

The roosters are already crowing by 5am, by 6am I’m up and out of bed and hop in the shower. Getting ready takes about a quarter of the time here, than it usually takes me at home cause I’ve cut out so many steps. I never wore a lot of makeup to begin with but with the heat here, I don’t bother with it at all and only slap on sunscreen. I barely wear my contact unless I’m going out at night, and wear my glasses the majority of the time now, otherwise my eyes dry up and it’s like sandpaper in my eyes. Now that my hair’s shorter I just run a brush through it and wear a headband or clip it back out of my eyes. I don’t have to blow dry it anymore!

I don’t dress how I would in the summer time back home back cause the women and girls here dress fairly conservative. I don’t feel comfortable dressing the same way here anyway cause the men already stare and jeer as it is. I brought several pairs of Capri’s, different length skirts and sarongs, which I’ll pair with a blouse or tank top.

By this time it’s about 6:30 – 6:45 am, and in Toronto time about 11pm (my time is 7 hours ahead). Anthony is usually getting ready for bed at this time so we’ve scheduled our daily call to be around 6:45 –7am when I’m sitting for breakfast and he’s winding down for the day.

After our rapid-flight chat to get as much mileage as we can from the cheap 15-minute phone cards, I’ll bid him goodnight while he wishes me a good day. I have my breakfast the maid has prepared for me –usually a bowl of fruit, eggs & toast, while I read through the local Dar es Salaam paper we get daily here, “This Day”. The NBA finals and the high school murder in Toronto has made its’ way into Dar news. As I leave the compound I greet Christopher, the guard, then head to work.

The amount of work I get done depends on whatever else they thrust at me to try and provide consultation or help fix, and whether there’s power. Some days we’re required to attend meetings with different sectors, or drive into different towns to perform evaluations, so that will eat up a good chunk of the day and I’m constantly feeling like I’m behind in the timeline I’ve set for myself.

At the end of the day, I’ll walk home and make a stop at the internet cafe which costs $500 TZ shillings for half ‘n hour, (~$0.50 cents Cdn). I zip through emails and check the headlines of Toronto news to see what’s going on back home, then head home and make myself dinner. By this time it’s about 7pm. I’ve cooked once since I’ve been here so my dinner ends up being the fruits I buy at the stands on my way home from work and I’ll just spoon peanut butter to get some protein in me. I re-hydrate on loads of water and sit out on the balcony with my laptop and write/blog. Depending on how much I have to say or reflect on about the day, it could take from 10 minutes to an hour.

I’ll shower for the 2^nd time in the day, study my Swahili, read in bed for a bit, then hit the sack at about 10:30 and do it all over again when the roosters start crowing at 5am.

Day 27

Today I celebrate my 10-year anniversary of my Sweet 16

This is my first birthday away from home and I’m feeling terribly homesick right now.
My Birthday Wish:
Is a cure for AIDS too much to ask?
Ok, realistically…
I hope I never get sensitized to the stuff I see around me.

DAYS 10 - 16

Day 10

Touché

Malik really hit a nerve today. I was irritable to begin from the heat and long bus ride, but I was still really put off by what he said. We went downtown together for a meeting with TACAIDS (Tanzania Commission for AIDS). They were responsible for obtaining my work permit so I was to be introduced to them for the first time.

On the way we passed a schoolyard where a bunch of young children were playing. The local town kids are always so friendly and adorable that whenever I see them I always stop to say hi. We got there early and had time to kill so I started playing around with a group of them, giving high-fives, asking them questions about school & trying to talk to them in broken Swahili.

Malik was watching me with a stupid smile on his face said out of nowhere, “I think you should start making babies soon”, which right away struck a nerve that irritated me to the bone. Annoyed, I hastily answered “no, I shouldn’t”.. maybe a little too sharply, which perked him to edge on, “why not, don’t you want to have babies?” “no I don’t” I snapped and thought, what’s it to him?

Compounded by the fact that I was dehydrated, may have been on the verge of heatstroke, oh what the hell might as well throw PMS in there too.. but that’s all it took for me to be offended by his tactless comment I felt was so uncanny, invasive and personal. My annoyance just encouraged him to jabber on “why do you say that? Maybe you can’t have babies, is there something wrong with you?”

His presumptuousness just infuriated me even more. I kept shaking my head insulted that he assumed such a thing. I realize it wasn’t his intention to offend me, and perhaps it’s another difference in our cultures to make note of -that they talk openly about ‘making babies’ here, but in any case, what’s it to him when and if I want to make babies? Where does he get off asking me if there’s something wrong with me, and drawing conclusions that because I said no, there must be something physically wrong? And what right does he have to tell me I should start ‘making babies’ soon?

I was completely turned off and unreasonably upset I didn’t want to speak another word to him and didn’t feel justified in trying to explain why I was offended either cause I felt he had already overstepped his boundaries.

For the rest of the day I was distant and silent. He picked up on this and really laid out the sap. In his most syrupy voice every other word was sweetheart, darling, my love, and he kept taking my hand in his trying to get closer. I couldn’t take it anymore. I yanked my hand and snapped, “I’m not your sweetheart! So please stop calling me that, ok?” At this point I didn’t care if I overshot anymore, I was hot, dehydrated, and cranky I just wanted him to shut up… it worked, and he did.

Nursing my wounds

My mosquito bites are all starting to get scabby but still itch and bleed. I’ve got a few along my feet which is hard to keep bandaged walking around, so I end up going without. It gets dirty by the end of the day and stings like a bitch when I disinfect. I apply aloe and vit E oil but by the time it heals I just get another bite that opens up.

My bed is up against the corner of the room and both walls are windowed which is how mosquitoes have such easy access to my bed at night. The windows are screened but they seem to get through anyway. I’ve decided to shut those windows and sacrifice the breeze of fresh air and wake up in a stuffy room by morning, but at least the bites have lessened. I’ve got care packages coming my way and citronella candles are definitely on the wish list.


Day 11

My first offshore account

Got questionable funds you need to stow away somewhere? Today Bruno took me to open a bank account where my stipend will be deposited every month. My allowance is just enough to cover my daily living expenses, not including rent, which was paid for by CIDA (so thanks for paying your taxes).

The standard of living is significantly lower and my stipend alone is roughly about how much my co-workers are living off, if not more, and is considered fairly well off for someone of working class. All of them are living with their families and traditionally don’t move out until after marriage. I asked how much rent would be to live alone and it is on average about $150,000 TZ shillings/month (~ $150 Cdn).

TZ v. Mali

I know I’ve been comparing Mali and TZ a lot. For African countries, they’re worlds apart. I don’t get a desolate feeling here like I did when I was in Mali. People here seem to get by ok and just enough to get through each day. Whereas in both the city and rural villages of Mali, some families sleep at night not knowing if they’d have food to provide their children the next day. The children here are a great deal healthier than the children I worked with in Mali who were all suffering from one of either marasmus or kwashiorkor (chronic or acute malnutrition). I read recently that Mali is suffering yet another food shortage.

Tanzania doesn’t rank as low as other sub Sub-Saharan countries and is well above Mali, which last I check was 4th poorest in the world according to the UN development index, preceding Burkina Faso, Niger, then Sierra Leone if I remember correctly. I couldn’t get over how poor the conditions were and wondered how it could be any worse when you’re already ranked at 4th poorest.

Tanzania ranks somewhere in the low teens and it’s a massive difference. Conversely the four ‘power house’ countries of Africa include Egypt, S. Africa, Nigeria & Algiers and make up over 50% of Africa’s GDP. Though they pool in a lot more there’s still a huge gap in class difference and of course what’s a rich African country without corrupt government officials hoarding all the goods and depriving their own citizens of basic necessities…

Making amends

The Malik episode has boiled over and we’ve gone back to being friendly. He just received an offer to do his Masters in the UK and I was genuinely happy for him. It was a conciliatory moment when he told me the good news and I hugged and congratulated him. He’s completely pumped about it, and has been excitedly bustling about the office preoccupied with scholarship applications and other correspondence. He’s asked for my assistance with some of these things and I’m more than happy to help out.


Day 12

My work begins

Bruno and I sat down to finally go over specifics as to what my role will be over the year. I am the first cooperant they’ve ever received from Canada to work with so they have rather high expectations of me and seem to think I’m an expert sent in to fix all their problems. I’m afraid of letting them down. I’m basically expected to be their renaissance man and take on a major role in every area and aspect of their programs.

I’m fully prepared to lend them all the support I can provide but I’m not at all an ‘expert’. We had a week of pre-departure training where we went through all the stuff about intercultural learning, differences in attitudes & behaviour, and all that eye opening stuff that puts things in perspective. While that’s all very fine and good in theory, it’s a whole other story trying to apply these principles in practice.

I can already see it’s gonna be a very long year… or short depending on how I look at it.

There are funds floating around, disseminated from WHO (World Health Organization) and UN that we’re trying to secure for our body –Tanzania Network Organization for People Living with HIV/AIDS (TANOPHA). We’re the umbrella org that provides programs & services for PLHA’s (people living with HIV/AIDS) including training, education, management & care. I’ll be helping to scout out other bodies for funds and doing all the ground work from the needs-assessments to the funding proposals and follow ups. This will be on going throughout the year.

But the major part of my project will be the fieldwork. Currently there’s a budget in transit for programs in 5 rural centres across the country. I’ll be doing the programming in those 5 regions including the training, and education for PLHA’s. Our mandate is to support those already diagnosed, encourage testing and prevent new infections. Otherwise there is no other preventative component and our focus is mainly risk reduction strategies.

I’m looking forward to the travelling and seeing more of the country but also the engagement with the locals.


Day 13

Stomach-churning

I’m not reacting well to these malaria pills this time around. My health insurance wouldn’t cover Malarone, which is the most effective anti malaria pill with the least amount of side effects but also the most expensive. For a years worth it costs almost $2500 Cdn, compared to Larium, the drug I’m on which costs just over $500 for a years supply.

Side effects include vivid dreams, dizziness, nausea, but also possible psychosis, so those with a history of depression or taking anti depressants can’t take this drug. So far I’ve had the vivid dreams, major dizziness and nausea. I’ll continue to be on the lookout for psychosis.

I woke up feeling nauseous from the dose I took the night before. On the bus on the way to work my queasiness got significantly worse. I felt like I was about to hurl right there on the bus and frantically asked to be let off. I really thought I was gonna throw up on the side of the street but managed not to.

I was running late and had meetings to attend but for the life of me didn’t want to get on another bus. It was rainy and humid, which made the bus stuffy and smell bad, and when you’re pressed up against other people it just makes it that much more unbearable. So I decided to walk the rest of the way to work and show up late. I was over a half an hour late and no one seemed to notice and if they did, they didn’t care (they don’t play close attention to time here).

Meetings Begin, Issues Addressed

We prepped at the office then headed to town in the project van to meet with representatives from UNAIDS and Tanzania Commission for Social Development (TACOSODE). There were 3 reps from TACOSODE, 3 of us representing TANOPHA and one UN official who gave presentations of current activities from various regions and proposals for strategy & mobilization.

It seems like no matter which direction you turn there are major issues and obstacles. In Tanzania there is still a lot of stigma attached to HIV/AIDS and all the myths in the book are common among uneducated people. Eg. Shaking hands, drinking from the same glass, using the same cutlery, sitting in the same chair after someone else … will all lead to infection.

HIV/AIDS training and education to people who have a low level of education is a challenge and facilitators have difficulty imparting new knowledge to them.. but on the other hand, the more educated and well-off communities put themselves above their infection and don’t see the need to attend training sessions or come out in the open for that matter.

Condoms are still a major issue for men who have indicated in surveys they would, and have been willing to go without despite knowing full well they would risk infection to their partner. On the other hand female condoms are still highly priced, difficult to use, and not readily available.

UNAIDS is still hopeful for the microbicide trials to produce more optimistic results. The last batch have been a major disappointment and led to new infections. It was the first hopeful female-initiated form of protection. There’s another study in the works looking at the efficacy of the diaphragm if combined with a spermacide + microbicide (once they get the formulation right). But once again it’s all a long way off and still out of reach.

So we’re already skating on thin ice and have so little to work with, it’ll be a real challenge.

HIV/AIDS facts for those who care to know (WHO, 1999)

WORLD WIDE
· 33.6 million adults and children estimated living with HIV/AIDS globally
· 16.3 million deaths
· 5.6 million new infections
· 13.2 million children orphaned globally

In AFRICA
· 23 million cases in sub Saharan Africa (SSA)
· 4 million new infections in SSA
· 9.4 million children orphaned in Africa

In TANZANIA
· All regions in Mainland + Zanzibar affected
· Estimated over 2 million people infected
· 70.5% ages 25-49
· 15% ages 15-24
· over 72,000 new born babies infected

Disease of Poverty

One major focus of TANOPHA is income-generating activities (IGA’s). The infection has caused a vicious cycle where the more impoverished you are, the more vulnerable you are to infection. The more infections spread, the more it fuels the cycle of poverty from human capital loss and everything else that falls after affecting social and economic development.

There is truly strength in numbers and they just started working with groups to generate income as a whole. There is more support this way as opposed to helping individuals one at a time who end up falling off their treatment because they can no longer afford it or it becomes a choice between eating food or continuing treatment. They are networking with micro finance orgs in the country, which are slowly starting to emerge. I had no idea it would be this multi faceted and am pleased to know they are dealing with these issues as comprehensively and possible.


Day 14

Attention Ladies:

If you haven’t heard of the “Diva Cup” yet, google it. I’ve been using it since the beginning of this year and highly recommend it. It takes a while to get used to but once you get the hang of it, it’s absolutely amazing and you’ll never go back. It’ll be especially useful when I’m out in the bush and have to deal with this stuff.

Speaking of which, I’m not feeling particularly well today.. but thank god it’s a Friday and I’ve got the weekend to rest.

The least flattering kind of attention

The men here don’t hold back when they want your attention. They “pssst!” at you, make kissy noises, and if they know English they’ll throw out “hey baby”, “sexy mama”.. you name it, I’ve heard it. I’ve learned to let it roll off my back and if I feel it’s harmless I’ll humour them and at the very least give a smile and nod their way or answer “poa”, in acknowledgement to the greeting “mambo” and that’s all it takes to satisfy them.

The part of town I’m staying in isn’t heavily populated with many expats so I stick out like a sore thumb whenever I leave my place. And whenever I do see other foreigners they have all been men and all Caucasian. Otherwise the locals are very friendly and all want to greet you and even try and stop you for a conversation.

One benefit of being in a new country and not knowing the language is you can always feign ignorance. I’ve been using it to my advantage especially as a non-white foreigner, I can pretend not to know English & blurt out random Chinese words when I don’t want to deal with people hassling me. I do get a lot of “hey Mchina!” from the locals and still turn on impulse whenever I hear it but trying to break the habit.

No means ‘try harder’

Malik wanted me to come dancing tonight but I was seriously feeling terribly under the weather and queasy from the drugs so I politely turned him down and said another time. He took the rejection a little hard and thought I was just making up excuses, which I wasn’t.. I would’ve gone if I was in the mood and not feeling sick.. but he asked, “what is it? are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?” when I told him everything was fine and no I’m not mad, he wasn’t convinced.

Oh lordy.. should I have forced myself to go just to spare his feelings? I felt like crap and knew there was no way I could handle a night of dancing, how do you tell someone “no” here? Needless to say he spent the whole night calling to try and convince me more, then texting his regrets that I couldn’t be well enough to come out tonight.


Day 15

East Side, West Side

I didn’t have anywhere to be until later this evening and was feeling tons better compared to last night so I went for a walk into town by myself. I remember in Mali hearing Tupac and thought to myself at the time, west side represent even in Africa. Today I went to the market place and heard Biggie being blasted from a truck and couldn’t help laughing to myself.

African Celebration

The director of a partner AIDS org invited me to his daughter’s send-off, which is a pre-wedding celebration. I was looking forward to seeing how people party it up in Africa. When I walked into the room I was the ONLY non-black person there and everyone kept starring, I never felt so awkward.

I came with a co-worker Henry and his fiancé Luphurise. There was a traditional dance performance with the drums, xylophone and a few other noisemakers I wasn’t familiar with. The sounds they produced were wild! Their movement was so intense and majestic, that combined with the sound and the beat, I was completely entranced. The dance built up to other acts where they ate fire!!

There was another part of the celebration where you’re supposed to go up to the couple-to-be, and wish them well through dance. Luphurise got me to participate with them and I learned to dance traditional African style.


Day 16

Around the World

God bless technology. Friends from home who are dispersed all over the globe are just a text message away -it’s amazing! I’ve been able to keep in touch with friends in Thailand (yes, that’s you Pauline!), China, India, and Europe at the same time it’s hard to believe we’re talking to each other from different continents!

I’ve also stayed in touch with the other cooperants in my training group, stationed in Africa who are in Ghana, Mozambique, Burkina Faso, & S. Africa. Of those of us posted in Tanzania, I am the only one in Dar while the others in my group are up in Arusha, 700 km away. So it’s been lonely but they check up on me every now and then. We mostly complain a lot about how frustrated we are with the bureaucracy, tally the number of marriage proposals we’ve gotten so far, and compare our bowel activity.. weird now that I think about it how it comes up so casually.

Back home, my mom and I email back and forth everyday and I’ve been able to talk to my family at least once a week so far. My parents put me on speaker and it gets chaotic talking to them both at once cause they badger me with questions. It’s funny when it’s my grandma’s turn to talk to me, she’s getting up there in age and hard of hearing, I have to practically shout into the phone.

Anthony stocks up on calling cards and we’ve been able to talk almost everyday but it’s starting to get expensive. We still have yet to perfect the art of talking rapidly to get through every topic we want to cover in 15 minutes before the phone card runs out. My youngest sis is also travelling and spending the summer in Calgary and it’s wonderful to hear her ramble about the site of the Rocky Mountains and in response I jabber on about the Indian Ocean.

Today I was overjoyed to get a call from Benjamin who I also miss very much =)

Wondering who has my hair

Before I left I hacked my hair off and donated the length to Continental Hairs, an organization that provides wigs to cancer patients. I don’t miss it so much in this heat where I would’ve kept it pinned up anyway. It’s so low maintenance now, I sometimes forget to brush it cause it just falls into place so easily. It was damn good hair though –and virgin hair at that! Never been dyed or chemically treated. I hope whoever’s got it is enjoying it!

Maintaining Hygiene

I shower twice a day and still don’t feel clean. Once in the morning out of habit, and again at night cause I feel so gross by the end of the day from the heat. Only cold water comes out of the taps, and although it’s a refreshing relief from the heat, I still miss the steam from a hot shower and don’t nearly feel as clean after.