The Road Less Traveled

I have written this blog entry many times and cannot finish it without crying. I have less than 3 days left and I find myself anxious to get home and see my family and friends and sad that I have to say goodbye to people that I have fallen in love with. The saying goodbye takes on a new dimension because I know that most of these amazing human beings I will never see again in my life-time. How does one say goodbye then with that knowledge? The Tanzanians deal with it with a sense of calm and peace and they say, “God Willing Mama Kel we will see each other again.” Myself, I cry uncontrollably.

I think of:
Sarafina, who lost her father to AIDS and whose mother is sick with the virus. She wants to finish her education, but knows that it may be cut short because she may have to take care of her younger siblings if her mother gets too sick or succumbs to the disease.
Gloya, (who cooked for me regularly) who is raising his three children on his own and has to choose between leaving them for great lengths of time to finish his education or stay with them and not improve his standard to living.
Elesante, who also want to continue his education, but his family can’t afford it.
Marcelin, who watched his father killed by the Hutu at age 8 and later came to Tanzania to go to university not speaking any Swahili nor knowing where to study n order to improve his families (mother and two sisters) life back in Rwanda when he finishes his studies.
Josiah, (my co-teacher, whose sarcastic wit kept me laughing all day.) from Kenya and is working on becoming a minister. He wants to return to his wife and child and spread the word (along with his humor) to others.
These are common stories not exceptions.
I think of all of the children that I met many of them with former presidents names like; Nixon, Regan, Kennedy, Carter, Clinton, Johnson and Lincoln.
I think of all the Tanzanians that I have met some that are HIV positive, that live daily with the threat of typhoid, malaria, tuberculosis, and the Nairobi fly, and yet giggle at the simplest things and love to hug and be hugged.
I think of the laughing and singing everywhere on the mountain. I think of the Vistas, which are breathtaking and the walks through the jungle. I think of all the animals and how fragile life is for all of them.

I will miss the greetings and the hand holding. The appreciation and laughs at my attempts at Swahili (the little kids were the best teachers) and the gentle corrections.

I will miss the patience of the people.

I will miss the hospitality of strangers who have become family. I will hearing, “Hi Teacher.”, “Hello Kitchenee Mama.”, “Madame Kel, how did you sleep.”

I have given away all my leftover food, my raincoat and umbrella. I shared my toiletries with the girls (they are very curious about the deodorant and the crème rinse) My tennis shoes and flip-flops went to kids that had none and my first aid kit went to Rosemary (Queen LaTifa of Meru Peak Schools)

My socks were coveted and I had to give these away in secret for I did not have enough for everyone.

My days move quickly now that it is almost over and my feelings remain mixed. I want to get home badly, but there is so much work to be done here.

Every hug brings tears to my eyes. I say goodbye to my students and sing Skid-a-ma-Rink with them one last time.
Saying goodbye to Headmaster Joseph was especially hard. He is 68 (well above the 55 life-expectancy) and we both new the odds of ever meeting again were slim. He is a very formal man and to receive a hug from him was one of the best gifts of all.

UAACC through me a party, complete with drums, dancing and a cake. It was awesome. After the party Marcelin escorted me back up the mountain for one last tour. He wanted to stop at his church to say a prayer for me. His prayer was in the form of a song on the piano. (He plays by ear) It was beautiful. I cried the whole time. He also sang me a song in his native Rwandan. I have never been so touched.

We then walked back to UAACC where he and my co-teacher Josiah (along with a driver) took me to the airport. We all hugged and cried, including the driver, one last time and I walked inside.

Tanzania and the wonderful people of East Africa are now part of my soul and I am a better person for it. I have become part Tanzanian and am proud.

God willing I will meet my friends again.

The Mountain and its People Sing

Life on the mountain is a challenge everyday. I swear I walk up hill everywhere I go. (Pole; sorry for your burden) (Asante sana; Thank-you for caring) I hear these two expressions everywhere because people are caring (usually women on their heads) everything they need to survive: water, firewood, crops, food, rocks, cement and even saw a stack of lumber carried like this. People say it to me too when I am carrying my bag with my school supplies.
My morning begins with children singing (usually hymns) at 6:00 a.m. I lay listening to them,smiling. i then hear the sounds of sweeping. The children clean the campus of the school by sweeping the dirt with branches. The collect the paper and sticks and throw them into one of the perpetual fires used for cooking or heating water for washing. Sometime I wash my clothes, a few articles at a time. This is done in a bucket and you rinse in a differnet bucket (you must choose wisely the order in which you wash) The straining the water out is the hardest part.
When I am up I open the door to my room so I can see. If it is too cold I will light the kersene lamp to eat my breakfast by. The children have porridge (watered down ugali) they don't get fruit, ever, because it is too expensive for the school. I have dinner with frineds some nights and one night I bought: 2 eggs (they are not refridgerated and you buy one at a time, not by the doze) a cucumber, 2 onions, 3 carrots and 2 oranges and it cost me 80 cents. This tells you how poor most people are here. The kids never complain about the food and in fact most seem to enjoy it. They have never known anything different so they are content with what they receive.
Some of the gilrs beathe in the morning, too cold for me! The water they use is different from what I receie. There's comes from a shallow well (large hole) where runoff water and waste water seep. Their water is not heated and they fetch it them selves. My water is brought to me everynight, and it is rain water and it is heated. They treat guests as if they were royalty. Many people here have housegirls, that take care of the chilrden, cook and clean. When I told them that very few people have "maids" in America they were suprised.
My first class is at 8:00 a.m. My classroom is so dark I don't know how the children see the front of the room. Some days it is worse because the children sweep the room (with the same branches they used on the campus) and the dust is so thick I have a harcd time seeing the chaulk board and I am writing on it.
My classes range from 40 to 80 minutes and I never have enough time because of all the copying requierd. The children work hard, but they sit so close that it is raelly hard not to use your partner's brain. I devised 2 forms of a quiz for them to take and instructed everyother person to either answer the questions on the left side of the board or the right side. It threw them for a loop. They performed very poorly. Tanzania is a communal country by nature, they do many things together. eventhough they see themseles as free individuals that is not the same as being independent from eachother.
Tanzanians are very dependent on eachother for food, transportatioin, medical help, help with children, laundry, cooking and encouragement. They work together to solve most of their daily needs.
After my morning class I walk up to UAACC and teach two English classes (one beginner, and one advanced) I work with an amazing group of volunteer teachers that live around the mountain and they help translate what I am trying to say to my students. This can be rather funny sometimes because of all the idioms and metaphors I tend to use in my everyday speech that I wasn't even aware that I do. We have great conversations just surrounding what I am trying to say that isn't technically part of the English lesson. Like, "Ok we are now going to shift gears" none of these people have even driven a car.
I eat lunch with the theachers everyday and we have develped quiet a friendship. During lunch (ugali and beans or mcandy which is corn and ugali) they watch music videos or African soap operas. It is hilarious to watch them get into these day dramas.
The teachers love to practice their English and they will ask me what certain words mean or how to prounounce them. Sometimes they will ask, "Are you sure it is pronounced that way?" This is when it is hard for them to say. Their sense of humor is really fun.
After classes-which end around 4:30 I am either playing basketball or reffing a football game.
Watching the young eople try and learn to play basketball is like watching someone learn to downhill ski for the first time.
Sometimes the ball dribbles them. There is not much in their daily life that lends itself to dribbling, passing, catching or shooting. They are also not used to running on a conrete slab(slightly covered in dirt, which make stopping in the flat bottomed flip-flops difficult) Sliding becomes part of the game. They listen to every direction I give and try to exedute the drills I provide with adandon. Some are becoming pretty good. I just have to convince them the Kobe Bryant is that all that and a box of rocks too. What these peole lack in basketball skills they make up for in mad soccer skills even in inadequate footwear; a field that hs rocks (large ones) on it to hold the cows ropes that graze there; the piles that the cows leave behind; not to mention the cows themselves. All this they have to navigate around coming down the field.
Two days a week I go to an orphanage further up the mountain and work with a young many who is having trouble learning to read. I am using my dyslexic training and hooked on phonics to help him. He loves the one on one. He is learning to blend the sounds and feels so good when he can say the words himself. His smile and hugs when he sees me coming are amazing. He yells, "Teacher, my teacher." I can get hime to focus for about an hour and a half every session.
I get back to my room around 6 p.m. and my "shower" is waiting for me. It is a bucket of hotish water. The school moms give me rain water to shower with (the softest water I have ever felt) I try to use as little as possible and share the left over with the girls. I am really glad that I cut all my hair off before I came. The girls rotate on who gets my leftover water. The girls use cold water from the "well"
Dinner is late around 8:00 p.m., this part I don't like, but I have adjusted. I have learned not to eath the meat (I will never complaong about school food again) so in the evening my diet is usually rice and regydrated spinach--yum. I use lots of hot sauce to give the food a lift. Before and after dinner I am with the students helping them with their studies. This is done in the classrooms, three of them, with lights from the generator. We have a lot of great discussions about the misconceptions regarding the US to kids back home and how they behave.
The generator makes a noise (surge) when it is about to run out of petrol and all the kids scatter to their dorms. The girls dorm is adjacent to my room and at night their whispering sounds like the buzzing of a great bees nest. It is that sound that carries me off to sleep.
On Fridays they sing. The children actually have organized a choir complete with a director. They are preparing for their church service on Saturday (which is all day)
On Saturdays I quietly make my wat to town. The biggest town nearby is Arusha. It is hard to gage the size of it because I only see part of it. I get up in the morning and have my usual breakfast of bananas, organes and passion fruit and walk down off the mountain, about 7 km. This takes a good hour and on my way I am greeted by everyone I see on the road. I get to USA (pronounced oooosu) and catch a smoosh mobile (a dali-dali) into Arusha. This takes another 30-50 minutes depending on how many stops we make, which is determined by how mnay people are standing by the side of the road and give the signal to get picked up.
In Arusha I get a cup of coffee at a little coffee house first and have a bite to eat. T then visit one of the upsacle hotels ( a trick I learned from Jessie) to use their bathroom and stroll their grounds.
I then shop or visit a museum or pick a new place to try for lunch. Sometimes this is a trek. I then eat lunch and begin my safarri back to Meru Peak. I take a Dali-Dali back to USA River and walk back up the mountain. I hear musci everywhere I go. They love Bob Marley, Celine Deon, and Dolly Parten (I know) they also play their African gospel and hip-hop, and soul music. I have danced with many people up and down the mountain, everyone loves to dance. The walk back up the mountain takes longer and is very steep in places. but is feels so good to walk it. I views are beautiful. I always look forward to Saturdays.
Sundays I would wash clothes, clean my room and play more soccer. The kids and I would sing songs and just enjoy eachothers company.
My days are full and I am fulfilled.

A Panther in Africa

Being a math teacher I actually enjoy probabilities. So, when I sat down to try and calculate the odds of:
1. going to Africa
2. picking Tanzania at random
3. finding Meru Peak Schools on the internet out of the thousands listed
4. discovering within amile of the school is a community center ran by an ex-black panther and his wife from Kansas City living in political exhile.
Ok, I know those of you who know me are thinking of course you would pick this place because that is karma and a black panther and Kelly Kitchen go hand in hand.
Well as it turns out you are right. Whatever power brought me here the probabilities are astronomical and therefore i have to leave it to energy outside my understanding.

Mama C (Charlotte) and Pete O'Neil have lived in Tanzania for about 30 years because Pete fled the US when he was charged with a crime he did not committ and knew he would be convicted, because of his work in the black panther movement, and later was convicted in abstentia. They have built a community center on the mountain brick by brick where they have teachers that teach English classes to the locals for free. They also teach computers, art, guiding (on safaris), dance and music classes (they have their own studio and produce CD's) all for free to the locals. They are supported by groups of students coming from the states and Europe that arrange for African immersion experiences. There was a group of University of Michigan students here for a such an experience while I was here.

Pete (still an imposing figure at 68 with dread locks down his back)and Mama C's(an angel to everyone that meets her and a spirtual presence that rmeinds me of a shamen) compound is a haven equipped with internet (it is what I use to type my blog) classrooms, dorms for the visitors, a wounderful staff of volunteer teachers and a basketball court.
I teach two English classes a day and play basketball with the locals every chance I get. Some of the girls are developing a nice jump shot and the boys are beginning to understand what a proper lay-up is. It is amazing coaching a foreign sport to someone that doesn't speak the same langauge as yourself I have learned so much from these young people, mostly humility.
cC
The students I have at UAACC (United African Alliance Community Center) are mostly adults. Some are housewives, some farmers, some are preachers and some are young people looking for a way not to end up in the streets. They are all open-hearted very attentie students who love have an American teach them anything. They clap spontaneously in the middle of a lesson when they feel they really grasp what I am teaching. It is amazing. They also tell me after every class that they love me and are so happy that I share "The English" with them. Africa sees English as the language of the future.
They work so hard trying to expand their vocabularies and trying to figure out subject verb agreement as well as those pesky irregular verbs. I never appreciated English as my natie langage before, but I do now.
Their hard work and loving nature brings tears to my eyes frequently. I have been humbled by this country and the people in it.
The students are many at UAACC and they come everyday. Some are fed lunch and are expected to work hard at their studies. They are so thankful to Pete and Mama C for providing this opportunity for them. Their lives are enhanced daily just for participating in UAACC and the family that is there.
The teachers are all volunteers and many of them are students at the University of Arusha, up the mountain further, and live in the area. Many teach during their breaks from school. I am the only native English speaker here currently and all the teachers love to talk to me to practice English and work on their pronounciation.
UAACC also teaches art and music classesand they have a pretty cool music studio. The sales of their music goes to the students that create them.
The art gallery is equally as impressive their batiks, purses,jewelry, and clothing is beautiful.
Pete and Charlotte have made a have in the middle of abject poverty, and the share their love of people and community builidng with those around them.
One of Pete's friends, Geronimo Pratt is also here. He was convicted of a crime he did not commit and spent close to 30 years in prison for it. His conviction was overturned and the government had to write him a check. He brouhgt that money to Tazania and is now living his life with his lovely wife in the mountains of Tz. He was instrumental in helping Pete put in a deep well where people in the area can get clean drinking water without flouride (a huge problem here)
I hope I get to take a dance class and drum class before I leave.
Pete retains his Black Panther attitude and his angst is refreshing. It is that tenacity that got everything accomplished that he has here and his growl makes me smile because his heart is pure gold. They are opening an orphanage (living center) soon. I hope to continue to support their efforts in the future.

Hamna Shida (no worries)

There comes a time when you are in a developing country that your American arrogance takes over and the frustration level gets so high you want to burst.
I think when you are trying to assimilate into a foreign country there is part of you that constantly fights the process. This is where the frustration comes from. The American, puritan ethic, in me kept fighting against the TZ culture. It hit a head at about 2 weeks in. This is when I met Jessie (my roommate for a week before she went back to Kansas, funny I know) and to be able to talk to another American (English speaker) that shared the same frustrations was cathartic and gave me an interesting mirror in order to look into.
The frustrations were many, but I'll only list a few:
The drivers here are horrible, not just don't use blinker lights horrible,but dangerous horrible. I thought I was going to die on my 18 hour (I thought was 7) bus trip to Mbea. We had to travel through the mountains to get there. Isaw more overturned semis on this 36 hour trip to and from Mbyea than I have my whole 48 years traveling through out the US. Anyone of those semis could have taken my bus out. Not that the bus driver was lacking any opportuniyt to take us out himself driving down the mountains.
Tanzanians have a different sense of time. When they say 'soon" they mean about 3 hours. When they say now they mean within the hour. The wait patiently for everything. The bane of American's existence.
The Tz also will say "God Willing" for everything intheir lives. Most are deeply rleigous and their hard lives make them accept (without question) the things that happen to them. One of our students died at the school I was at and no one knew why, not even the doctor. It was just his time for God to take them, a perfectly healthy 7 year-old.
I had a deep desire to fix everything I saw that was not working well, from broken doors to filling in a walk way with sand so the children didn't continually trip. Learning to let this go was very difficult for me.
I was pulling water up from the well and noticed there was a hole in the bottom of the bucket. When I got the bucket to the surface it was only half full. When I inquired about this I was told thatsome people are careless and if they replaced the bucket it would just happen again so they leave it. Ugh!!

I did fix the bathroom door because it had no handle and you had to grab the wood plank with your fingertips in order to lock it. Trying to shut it was an act in futility. I also fixed my door because the locking mechanism was falling off.
Jessie and I commiserated about our perception of the Tz inability to problem solve or goal set.

It was later that I refelected that I was imposing American values and standards onto a country that is still struggling with feeding their countrymen. Life and death are very precarious in Tanzania. Malaria, HIV and Typhoid are rampant as are unemployment, poverty and lack of education. There is no municipal trash pick up and sewer and lean water services are scarce. I suppose the fact that you have to grip the wood plank on a door to shut it is really not that big of a deal to them.

After you are here for a while longer you begin to assimilate and your frustration level drops, and you don't mind being stopped by everyone you see on the path you are on to see how you are even if you are suppose to be somewhere. After all you told your friend you would be there soon.

School: the life-raft with a hole in it

Schools in Tanzania are broke into primary (standard 1 through 7) and secondary (Form 1 through Form 4). There is also Form 5 and Form 6 which you have to pass an exam in order to get in and IF you can afford it and IF you pass then you might be able to go to University. The NBA holds better odds.
School is a privilege and you have to pay to go. Schools cost around $800.00 a year = $800,000 shillings. This is impossible for some families, especially with multiple children. The average person (if they can find work) make about $6,000.00 shillings a day or six dollars. Many children do not go to school. Or they do not pass primary and do not continue. The children that get to go to school work ery hard and look forward to any extra help they can get. I have upwards to 15 kids in my room when the generator comes on to do homework, get help, read, draw, anything. There is such a need both educationally and psychologically with the children here it is almost overwhelming.
There are schools everywhere, public and private (so it seems) and the chidren that attend them walk miles or ride a bus long distances everyday to get to school. Many children are borders (especially the orphans that are lucky enough to get into a bording school) In one of the schools that I teach in the children sleep two or three to a single bed. Some have nets some do not. I brought 20 with my and it made a dent. From my understanding the children are in school 10 months out of the year with two breaks in between semesters.
most of the children in school are away from their families for long periods of time. The orphanes (a whole subject in and of itself) livein orphanages which are more prevelant than schools. Some visit extended familiy a few times a year.

The one school I teach at is both a primary and a secondary school. The school has no electricity and they get their water from in inadequate well (to shallow for clean water) and they use rain water to drink. They do not drink a lot of water here, especially compared to Americans. Dehydration has got to be a problem.
They run a generator at night for a few hours and there are a couple of rooms that have a bulb so the students cram into them to do their homework. This is quite a sight. It would make a teacher fill with awe. It did me.
Classes start at 8:00 a.m. and run until 3:30 with a couple of breaks and lunch (ugali and beans) Most of the younger kids fallout before 3:30 gets here. The kids stay in the same classroom and the teachers rotate.
My classroom is in the middle of the compound (fenced in) and gets very little ambiant light. My class starts at 8:00 am everyday and it is usually overcast, making seeing the chalkboard from the back of the room very difficult. The class i teach is form II math (algebra and geometry) my students ranged in age from 15 to 22. I had 36 of them in one room.
The room is dark and damp, there is a large(old) chalkboard in the front of the class. I have 2 sticks of chalk and a form II book (an excercise book with a few examples and practice problems, fewer answers in the back) There is no teacher's edition. I have three of the thirty-six that also have a book. That is it. No other materials.
The children copy everything down into their exercise books (blank bound paper) The write their own text book. This process takes a looooong time and we only have 40 minute classes. This was frustrating for me because we had very little time to dialogue about math. The books they use in math are all skill books, little application.
In spite of the challenging environment and the schools some times closing for days, weeks months because of lack of teachers or foods, the childdren learn and many of them crave more.
When young Jessie was here we shared a dorm room and that is where the students would come for extra help. I observed this one young man about 12 years ole have an indepth conversationwith Jessie (19 from Kansas) about irregular verbs. This young man was trying so hard to wrap his head around them. Other kids were copying English-Kswahili dictionerys to learn new words. To watch this scene was very powerful, to participate in it was life changing. The conversations that take place and the thirst for knowledge these young people have would make any jaded teacher cry.

I am called "Mzungu"

The people in Tanzania do not see many white people. In the tourists area they see many more and for the most part try to get those folks to buy their art, or visit their sister's shop. When you travel away from the tourists streets of Arusha and go into the neighborhoods, or if you travel into the mountains (where the schools that I am teaching are at) then the presence of white people gets fewer and fewer.The people in these areas view seeing and meeting a white person as good luck and love to stop and talk with you. The Tanzanians are very demonstrative people. Boys and men will hold hands and touch each other frequently. Little girls will walk together in a small ball. The children will yell "Mzungu, Mzungu." They love to hold my hand and walk with me. The parents enjoy watching their children with me and are not fearful or threatened by you interacting with their children. In fact they will let you walk away with their children in tow and know that their children are safe and will be home sooner or later. The Tanzanians are very open hearted, loving, passive people. The children are a giggling mass of love. I did meet some children who had never seen a white person before and they were actually afraid of me. They would stare and drop whatever they had in their hands and not move. I think if I had made a run at them they would have died of a heart-attack. I took my responsibility as an ambassador seriously though and only smiled and said, "Jambo toto." Meaning "Hello children".
If the people of the world could have a little of the Tanzanian loving spirit within them the world would be a better place.