Habari za safari?

How was your journey? Well, I can say my safari was worth every penny and all the effort! The lodging and food were beyond our expectations. And of course, the safari itself was the experience of a lifetime!

We arrived at the Mikumi National Park around 2 in the afternoon after a five hour car drive from Dar. The manager gave us the rundown of Vuma Hills, the resort we stayed out. The only rules were 1) no animals in the tent, 2) call if animals are found in the tent, and 3) stay in your tent after 10:30. These rules were a little unnerving but easy enough! We were then showed the bar and restaurant area, and a nearby swimming pool that was under renovations. Actually, an elephant tried using it as a watering hole and collapsed the side of it.

We were showed to our "luxury tent," which lives up to its title very well. Equipped with hardwood floors, western plumbing, and safari decor, this wasn't what I considered to be traditional camping. Our tent had a balcony that looked over the entire park, a breathtaking view. We were then served a delicious lunch of quiche, potato salad, and fruit. Despite stuffing our faces, we still managed to fit in two more elegant meals, complimentary of ours resort. As we sat for dinner, we were served warm bread rolls with butter, a concept we had given up on in Tanzania. We also ate a delicious, but traditional meal of rice with meat and potatoes. Dessert, a lemon sorbet, was the perfect way to end the day on top of the mountain.

The meals were delicious, but obviously we didn't travel five hours to eat. Our package allowed us two game drives throughout the course of our stay. We first went out after lunch, at 4pm. Our vehicle was a massive Land Rover, entirely open. We saw tons of wart hogs, antelope, zebras, giraffes, elephants, and baboons. We visited a hippo pool and watched them swim. Towards the end of our trip, we even saw some resting lions in the distance. We wished to get closer, but the tour guide explained it would only take 15 minutes before not even a shred of clothing would be discoverable. The best part of the evening trip was watching the sunset behind the Tanzanian mountains, an incredible landscape.

The following morning, at 6:30am we all met again for our second safari. We visited all the same animals, catching some amazing shots! The animals are definitely more lively in the morning. The most amazing (and terrifying) part of our morning excursion was finding the lionesses. Our tour guide spotted a couple in the distance as we rode along the trail. Him and the driver exchanged a few grief Swahili sentences, and then looked at us. They proposed we get our cameras ready and we were going to quick drive off trail, which is forbidden, and get up close to the lionesses. Well, when they said close,
I hadn't expected to get within six feet of them! Even more frightening was learning that female lions are actually the hungers, and at that moment they were thought to be observing the land for prey. Talk about an adrenaline rush!

At 8:30 we returned to Vuma Hills, greeted by yet another wonderful meal. We are yogurt with granola, cereal and milk (a rarity in Africa, sausage, bacon, beans, fruit, and eggs cooked to order. We ate until we could hardly sit up! Not just to be pigs, but also out of strategy. We had another long day of traveling ahead of us!

Anyone who is ever offered the opportunity to go on a safari should absolutely take it! I've always loved the zoo, but it's a different experience all together observing the animals in their natural habitat.

Some facts I've learned over the past couple days:

1. Baby baboons hide by clinging to their mother's belly.

2. Zebras' stripes are like fingerprints, unique to each zebra.

3. Zebras and wildebeest are actually considered "friends."

4. Wildebeest can prolong giving birth until its considered safe, and then all pregnant females will give birth together.

5. Giraffes are about six feet tall when they are born.

6. Giraffes can sleep standing up or laying down, but their necks have to be up either way because of high blood pressure.

7. A male lion sleeps 18 hours a day, while
the female hunts and trains the cubs.

8. The color of a lion's mane tells his she; the darker it is, the older he is.

9. Antelope are polygamous; one male can have 30 to 40 female partners.

10. Jackels (dog like creatures) are scavengers, not hunters. They will eat from carcasses that others have killed.

Honk Honk!

This weekend we traveled to the Ilulu Boarding School for Girls, where three of our fellow volunteers live. In order to travel to there from Masoko it takes anywhere between 1 and 3 hours, as well as multiple vehicle changes. We arrived shortly before lunch on Saturday and enjoyed a delicious meal prepared by their professional chef, who has a history in Mzungu cooking. Later, we were joined by two more fellow volunteers.

Originally, my housemates and I planned on heading back before dinner. However, since we arrived later than expected, the unpredictable journey home was looking less appealing. Morgan and I decided to stay the night after all, and the seven of us stayed up chatting like a middle school slumber party. Unfortunately, Said had plans for early Sunday morning so he headed back alone Saturday evening. For Morgan and me, this meant a serious test: two American girls trying to get back home via Tanzanian transportation. I'm proud to say we successfully boarded the dala dala, transferred to a teksi, and directed a bajaj right up to our front door!

Over the past month, and especially this weekend, I've realized that the transportation system has taught me a lot about Tanzanian culture. After riding in so many different types of vehicles, I've been able to observe key social interactions between people. Even more interestingly, I've come to pick up on a highway hierarchy. The faster the vehicle, the more rule it has. There are no such things as passing zones in Tanzania, rather if you hear a honk, get over! Trucks honk at daladalas, cars honk at pedestrians, bajajes honk at bikers. The honk is a way of saying "I'm bigger than you, so move over!"

Highway Ecosystem:

Bus: Similar to size and shape of American coach buses, Tanzanian buses are for long term trips. During our six hour trip from Dar to Kilwa, I sat in the cramped window seat of a bus, squished next to a Tanzanian man. Other passengers who purchased late tickets sat on buckets in the aisle. Buses typically stop about 10 times throughout the trip, only for roadside vendors to come to the windows to try and sell nuts, fruit, eggs, etc. The most surprising attribute of this vehicle is its ability to off-road. Rather than wait in traffic for construction, our bus traveled alongside the road on a dirt plowed, bump path. Luckily we made it back onto the paved road, considering we spotted another bus not so lucky!

Daladala: This is a vehicle for shorter journeys. Typically daladalas run on specific routes throughout the course of a day, like a local bus. From the outside, they look like minivans or small school buses, on the inside you can find make shift seats and people packed like sardines! It's very rare to get a comfortable accommodation, so people rarely give up seats. However, if a lady boards with a child, strangers will typically offer to hold him or her. In some places, like Kilwa, daladalas won't leave a stop until the vehicle is totally packed. The driver will usually wait until seats are filled and at least a couple people are standing. This could take over an hour, so unfortunately the other passengers are stuck waiting in a crammed seat, usually overheating from the sun.

Teksi (taxi): A teksi is really just somebody's beat up old car they use to make an income. Since there's no commonality between teksi vehicles, you have to look for the right stickers. Today, we drove back go Masoko in a rotting, squeaky Toyota sedan. Again, we had to wait for the car to fill up, which took about a half hour. Finally the driver managed to recruit six customers, in a car that holds five. In the backseat, Morgan and I had to share with two grown men. I was jimmied up to the door, so for piece of mind I locked it, only to find out later that the locks didn't actually work. At least I didn't realize until we were back in Masoko!

Bajaj: Best described as a three-wheeled golf cart, a bajaj is a small vehicle built for short distances. We usually use the bajaj to get to either the main town or the beach, both of which take about five to ten minutes. Typically, a bajaj fits three people comfortably, but of course there's always room for one more, so one can sit in the driver's one person seat. Since my roommates and I use a bajaj quite often, we've actually developed a monogamous partnership with one particular driver. He answers all our calls, regardless of time or day. He will also bring us requested items from the market to save us the trip! In my opinion, bajajes are the most personally accommodating vehicle on the road!

Piki piki (motorcycle): These vehicles are great for traveling as an individual. It is cheaper than a bajaj, but obviously a little more disconcerting. To my initial shock, the district actually arranged two piki pikis to transport my roommate and I to and from Mtanga. I didn't want to be a complainer right off the bat, so I gave it a chance! I felt a bit wind blown after each ride, but more importantly, I felt pretty safe! I was even able to take up the traditional side saddle position like most Tanzanian ladies. Just as I was getting really comfortable, the district actually decided to cut the funding and personally drive us to school. Those first two weeks were definitely an experience to remember!

A Devil's Diagnosis

In America, healthcare is an issue that consumes a lot of money, time, and attention. Nearly everybody knows somebody with a serious health condition, personally I've known many. Health issues range from cancer, to seizures, to severe anxiety attacks. However, here in Tanzania, not all of these conditions qualify as a health issue, but rather as a spiritual infliction.

Last week, Morgan came home one day very anxious about a student of hers. In the midst of a lesson, the girl set off into a hysterical outburst. She held her head rocking, sobbing, sporadically yelling. She was escorted from class by a friend who explained he must wait with her. Usually after such an outburst, the girl tries running away. Morgan, very confused and upset, tried seeking advice from other teachers. She was told there was nothing for her to do, since it was the devil's work. Well, that certainly wasn't the expected response! As most Americans would do, Morgan continued to seek a more plausible diagnosis. Instead, she was given very abstract explanations.

In Tanzania, it is believed that devils live in trees and underground. There are good devils and bad devils, but both will possess the human body, most commonly females. Devils are pretty dormant most of the time, but activity can be triggered when witchcraft is nearby. So, the girl's meltdown was more so a warning for those around her. It's believed that a victim can only be helped through spiritual intervention by a religious leader. Now, I use the world "believe," but the explanation constantly included the word "know." Our roommates even supported that hospitals "know" they can't help these victims, and will turn them away. They argued that there are American healers that come to Tanzania to help because they too know these troubles are caused by the devils. Being the skeptic, I replied that the American healers have to come here because they can't find anyone to believe them in America. The boys continued to push that our medical science doesn't apply to their similar issues. And at that, the issue was finally dropped.

Until, just a few days later, I had my own brush with the devil at Mtanga. One of my students, a smaller girl with a sweet smile, visibly didn't feel well during our morning session. Even when the class was moving and standing, I saw her needing support from a nearby desk. I wasn't sure the issue, so I didn't tell her to pep up, as I normally would have down. Looking back, I feel guilty for my passive acceptance rather than encouraging her to sit down or take fresh air.

Students are given a half hour break which is a time for snacking and relaxing outside. During this break, I watched three of my girl students carry in one of their peers and lay her on my office floor. Rather than the expected frenzy, only one teacher got up to talk to the students and look at the girl. Although I felt helpless, I wanted to check on the student also. As I peeked in, I was upset to see it was the same small girl from my class. She was unconscious, shaking, and breathing rapidly and unevenly. I've never seen a seizure, but if I had to guess, this looked frighteningly similar. One student sat fanning her, as the teachers finished their break. I realized it was up to me to implement some action in the situation.

I asked a local teacher what we could do. Despite her unconscious state, all I could think is maybe she needs water, air, space, anything! He calmly explained that even though some issues seem medical, they're really spiritual. Despite this girl's obvious need for medical attention, she will only ever be encouraged to seek religious guidance. I stared at the poor girl, shaking on the concrete ground, wanting to scream for her. Again, the victims of this nation are silenced. Innocent children are forced to believe they are religiously blemished, putting their health and lives in danger.

Fortunately, the student returned to school after a couple days. Her sunshine personality was back to shining bright, as if this week was as ordinary as any. Which is what scares me, that these severe issues are considered ordinary.

Do the Hokey Pokey

As I come to the close of our second week of lessons, I'm sensing one striking resemblance between Tanzanian and American classrooms. In both cultures, songs and games are a fun and effective source of learning. While most of our time is reserved for the strenuous amount of lessons we have to get through, an occasional opportunity to be silly is greatly appreciated by both students and teachers.

One song I recently taught my students is the age old tune, the Hokey Pokey. It was an excuse to get out of the classroom while encouraging students to review all the body parts they had learned during the day's lesson. The students enjoyed being exposed to a traditional piece of American culture, in addition to showing off their newly gained knowledge. As we sang the song and followed the dance, I was able to sense my students' excitement for their developing English and the promise it brings their futures.

However, I also realized the Hokey Pokey reflects my own experience in Tanzania. I often feel like I'm throwing myself into a ring of chaos. Whether it be brushes with culture shock, struggles at school, or resistance to change, I seem to always find myself being shaken all about. But, when I'm faced with the hardest times, I have to remember to turn myself around, or at least my attitude! I lose track of the fact that I'm not just here to give, but to learn and accept, also. Despite the confusion and frustration, I am here to grow as a person, not to become more narrow. I hope to leave here in five weeks feeling like I let the people of Tanzania help me, not solely the other way around.

Because, hey, that's what it's all about! :)

School of thought... Or not.

It's Sunday night, and as I'm used to doing, I'm planning out my lessons for our first full week of classes. Typically, I would have a very detailed outline of my objectives and how I expected to meet them. In the WorldTeach program, they actually give us numerous resources that pretty much outline our days for us. Although it seems restricting, I understand that not all volunteers come from a background in education. Plus, WorldTeach encourages us to branch out in anyway we find effective for the students. However, this is where my frustrations grow...

WorldTeach prepares international volunteers for the tribulations that will arrive at school. The differences in the American education system and the Tanzanian education system are vast, to say the least. Even after hearing this, I remained ignorant to the facts. I assumed Tanzanian schools would be open to advice and suggests that would push the schools towards "Americanization." Boy, was I wrong.

As of now, we have about 50 students enrolled in Form 1 (first year of middle school) and four Form 1 teachers. As the American, I suggested we split them into two classes and each co-teach a class. My idea was met with a couple chuckles and the rationalization that 50 students was way too small to split, and instead all four of us would divvy up class time. While aggravated, I tried to understand that Tanzanian schools have always conducted large classes, it was a part of their culture. However, my role as an American volunteer is not to teach 1/4 of the day by somebody else's rules. My job is to be a teacher, an innovator, at Mtanga Secondary School. Unfortunately, instead of breaking through the culture barrier, we pushed the class size issue off to the side, into shaded gray area.

So, now as I sit trying to plan my Monday lessons, my frustration bubbles up again. Even in the areas I could add creativity to my lesson, I'm still extremely restricted in my ability to plan. My class size, my classroom, even my role in the classroom all remain a mystery to me.

Hopefully tomorrow, a fresh day, a fresh week, we will again be able to confront the issue and work out a cultural compromise.

The power of community

In Tanzania, a community is more than just houses built near each other. It's an interconnected family where members work together, rely on one another, and help each other out. Last night, my housemates and I decided it was time to visit our neighboring homes to introduce ourselves. While I could only really sputter out the basic greetings, the neighbors clearly expressed their gratitude to us for teaching out. I had a two year old march up to me and shake my hand. We were even invited in for sodas by a retired school district officer, which is a pretty high position in Tanzania. We all agreed we more peacefully last night after meeting the people around us.

Today, we experienced one of the most rewarding effects of joining the community bond. The two year old that shook my hand last night, kept running by today with an old beat down tire. I invited him over to play, and despite the language barrier, we giggled together for a while. He then called a friend over, which attracted some of the other neighborhood kids. Morgan, my housemate joined in, and then even a few more kids! At one point, we had about 10 kids under the age of seven playing catch with us.

As it happens in Tanzania, an unexpected severe storm hit with only a few seconds warning. We hid under our awning until it proved to be no protection from the rain. Instead, we invited the kids in where some sprawled out for a nap, and others enjoyed a movie (Disney's "Up," courtesy of one of my American students!). The two year old laid his head in my lap, shaking every time the thunder bellowed.

This afternoon play date proves our acceptance into the community. Unfortunately, Americans aren't always welcome in Africa. However, the neighborhood parents were comfortable with their children playing with us, and even taking shelter with us during the storm. The kids, despite their curiosity and initial weariness of us, trusted us to keep them safe while they were scared.

I prefer mystery meat

Here in Tanzania, there is no mystery to what you're having for dinner. So much so, that I've literally stared my dinner in the eye, both dead and alive.

The first encounter with this lack-of-mystery was back in Kunduchi. We arrived at our usual lunch spot, greeted with the news that we were having fish! After days of rice and sauce, this was exciting news for some of us. However, as the dish began to come out, some people became last minute, no-fish-vegetarians. The fish's eyes, still perfectly intact, glowered at me as I made a face back at it. The fin made me feel like my meal might swim away at any minute. To top it off, this delicacy was expected to be eaten by hand.

Now that I've moved to Kilwa, I don't have too many run ins with any fishy friends. Rather, my dinner pretty much lives in my front yard. All over our our community, chickens run free. I've assumed they are for laying eggs and what not. However, yesterday as our house cook prepared dinner, I found a chicken staring at me from the "pantry" (a small closet that stores coal... And chickens). It was shaking, hiding in its little basket as the house cook tried corning our two male housemates to be the temporary butchers. However, as it turns out, our Tanzanian roommates are city boys, and had to recruit a local teenager to do the dirty work. As I heard the chicken's final screech, I felt big time remorse for emphasizing that chicken was the only meat I would eat.

I'll have rice, please!