Ration the Responsibility

This weekend marks week four of nine, indicating we are just about halfway through. If that weren't reason for celebration, program administers also planned a weekend getaway for all the Kilwa volunteers. While the resort is within walking distance of my home, the AC, cable tv, and running water make me feel closer to America. One purpose of this trip is to give volunteers a chance to relax after a month of rigorous work. I for one, couldn't be more due for a couple days of quiet in my own personal bungalow.

During the past week especially, I have had numerous unsettling brushes with culture shock. The issue that most sticks out to me has to do with one of my sweetest Form 1 students. Her mother arrived on bicycle during one of our lessons and asked to take her daughter with her. I was at first told that it was a problem at home, but out of curiosity, I asked if there was a more specific explanation. My request was met, but not without a violent blow to my heart and gut. My colleague filled me in that the night before, a man had broken into my student's window and attempted to rape her. It's believed he was unsuccessful in his attempt, which I desperately hope is true. That day in school, she had to leave early in order to file her police report. I was promised this is an isolated incident in Kilwa culture. I was assured the man would be caught and immediately mandated to 30 years in prison. But, I can't be guaranteed that this bright student won't be permanently tarnished.

Among this tragedy, I was also faced with the harsh realities of education. Students who don't pass their primary school exams aren't allowed to attend public secondary schools. Usually, they can't afford private schools. Which means they are forced into the working world just around the age of 13 or so. Some of these unfortunate children actually travel to other schools during their short break to sell treats such as donuts, ice pops, and fish (yes, fish for morning snack). These children travel by foot and bike to make money from people who should be their peers, not customers.

And finally, my third major brush in with culture shock. On my way home from school one afternoon, I rode home in a government vehicle packed with officials and even some Form 1 female students. As we traveled along the one main road in Kilwa, we passed one peculiar man who decided to jog in his birthday suit, proud as can be. My eyes got wide with disbelief as I expected to head the car break out in chaotic reactions. However, even my bulging eyes were more of a response than many in the car.

These vastly different experiences have all boiled into one major struggle I have with Tanzanian culture. In all three instances, the responses have mostly been nonchalant. I keep hearing "it will be taken care of" but I'm not actually seeing anyone take care of the issues. I understand and respect I'm living in a different culture, a third world even. But, the way I see it, a society should always be seeking to improve itself, and in order for that to happen, responsibilities need to be assumed, by both authorities and citizens. This mindset may not be shared by all, but I'm appreciative that America has instilled it in me.