Tuesday 31 March 2009
Volcanoes, markets and blue paint...
Just a brief update before heading off on safari early tomorrow morning.
As usual, I've had another very full and busy week. It was lovely to get Amy back after her week away with her parents. As it was her birthday last week, I baked her a banana cake which was presented to her after a meal out with the whole group.
Two main highlights this week: our daytrip on Thursday and work on the classrooms.
Mr Mashoto, our neighbour, began his teaching career in a Maasai school in the middle of nowhere. As he returns frequently, I asked if we might be able to come along too at some point. He and his friend (I feel dreadful, I can't remember his name, and he was so lovely!) organised a full day out for us, including a welcoming ceremony and tribal dance BUT we never got to the school...
We went by several Dalla Dallas, effectively travelling to the other side of Mount Meru. Part one of our day-trip was stopping at the foot of a hill with no explanation. "Today we climb" - ok then! Although it was not very tall, it turned out to be a dormant volcano called Kilimamoto. We puffed our way up and were greeted by the most enormous crater, which we scampered round. Mashoto looked liked a mountain goat, bizarrely dressed in his smart work clothes!
The plan was to wait at the bottom of the road for the next Dalla Dalla to take us to the Maasai village. We waited...and waited...and waited... After two hours, somebody came past and told us what was going on: law cannot extend into the rural parts of Africa, and so consequently no notice is taken of regulations. Dalla Dalla owners keep their vehicles on the road far beyond the point that is safe, and realised that they could charge whatever they wanted. Not so. Enraged Maasai would pull out their knives and sticks in objection to the extortionate fare, and when that didn't work, they came up with a new solution - a road block! Between us and the village, every Dalla Dalla was being stopped and passengers demanded to get off and say how much they had paid. If it was too much, they would have to wait by the side of the road until some kind soul offered them a lift, or walk all the way back to Ngaramtony (the nearest town). We had no choice but to do the same. I felt so sorry for the kids who'd prepared an elaborate welcome for us - perhaps we'll be able to go back.
The walk back to Ngaramtony was 5km on a dusty, rubbly road under construction in the blazing sun. Thankfully I had my 'lighter-than-air' walking boots that sped me on my way. Thursdays are market days, and so we were treated to be able to walk through the town that was entirely given over to people selling their goods. It was fantastic. There were sacks of grain, flower, tea leaves next to blankets with carrots piled in towers, next to a heap of pastic flip flops (the standard African footwear) and kangas (fabric ready sized to make clothing). As you walked through the little streets, you passed through smell after smell (tea leaves, spices, etc). It was well worth the walk! We got a legitimate Dalla Dalla home and went to our local bar for a thank you drink. A very memorable day.
We finished painting the outside of the classrooms yesterday (consequently I am drenched in paint that will only come off with kerosene!). It took roughly a day and a half to paint 3 walls 3/4 of the way up, as requested. Mr Mkosi was pretty insistent that it should be plain light blue, and as it is his school, we relinquished our grand artistic plans. It does, however, look very attractive and smart, so a good job done, methinks.
Right, must dash - internet time, you know! Next time I'll write, no doubt I will have tales of being ravished by lions or chased by cheetahs!
Lxxx
As usual, I've had another very full and busy week. It was lovely to get Amy back after her week away with her parents. As it was her birthday last week, I baked her a banana cake which was presented to her after a meal out with the whole group.
Two main highlights this week: our daytrip on Thursday and work on the classrooms.
Mr Mashoto, our neighbour, began his teaching career in a Maasai school in the middle of nowhere. As he returns frequently, I asked if we might be able to come along too at some point. He and his friend (I feel dreadful, I can't remember his name, and he was so lovely!) organised a full day out for us, including a welcoming ceremony and tribal dance BUT we never got to the school...
We went by several Dalla Dallas, effectively travelling to the other side of Mount Meru. Part one of our day-trip was stopping at the foot of a hill with no explanation. "Today we climb" - ok then! Although it was not very tall, it turned out to be a dormant volcano called Kilimamoto. We puffed our way up and were greeted by the most enormous crater, which we scampered round. Mashoto looked liked a mountain goat, bizarrely dressed in his smart work clothes!
The plan was to wait at the bottom of the road for the next Dalla Dalla to take us to the Maasai village. We waited...and waited...and waited... After two hours, somebody came past and told us what was going on: law cannot extend into the rural parts of Africa, and so consequently no notice is taken of regulations. Dalla Dalla owners keep their vehicles on the road far beyond the point that is safe, and realised that they could charge whatever they wanted. Not so. Enraged Maasai would pull out their knives and sticks in objection to the extortionate fare, and when that didn't work, they came up with a new solution - a road block! Between us and the village, every Dalla Dalla was being stopped and passengers demanded to get off and say how much they had paid. If it was too much, they would have to wait by the side of the road until some kind soul offered them a lift, or walk all the way back to Ngaramtony (the nearest town). We had no choice but to do the same. I felt so sorry for the kids who'd prepared an elaborate welcome for us - perhaps we'll be able to go back.
The walk back to Ngaramtony was 5km on a dusty, rubbly road under construction in the blazing sun. Thankfully I had my 'lighter-than-air' walking boots that sped me on my way. Thursdays are market days, and so we were treated to be able to walk through the town that was entirely given over to people selling their goods. It was fantastic. There were sacks of grain, flower, tea leaves next to blankets with carrots piled in towers, next to a heap of pastic flip flops (the standard African footwear) and kangas (fabric ready sized to make clothing). As you walked through the little streets, you passed through smell after smell (tea leaves, spices, etc). It was well worth the walk! We got a legitimate Dalla Dalla home and went to our local bar for a thank you drink. A very memorable day.
We finished painting the outside of the classrooms yesterday (consequently I am drenched in paint that will only come off with kerosene!). It took roughly a day and a half to paint 3 walls 3/4 of the way up, as requested. Mr Mkosi was pretty insistent that it should be plain light blue, and as it is his school, we relinquished our grand artistic plans. It does, however, look very attractive and smart, so a good job done, methinks.
Right, must dash - internet time, you know! Next time I'll write, no doubt I will have tales of being ravished by lions or chased by cheetahs!
Lxxx
Saturday 28 March 2009
some videos
I am writing this from the home of some friends of a friend outside Arusha> Lucy and George must be the most lovely couple in all of Eastern Africa - we have been told to make ourselves at home pool-side and sat down to a huge lunch with...chocolate and raspberry gateau, heaven.
So I am making the most of their fast internet connection now that the electricity has come back on to post some of the numerous videos I have.
Enjoy! Lxxx
So I am making the most of their fast internet connection now that the electricity has come back on to post some of the numerous videos I have.
Enjoy! Lxxx
Friday 27 March 2009
Musings...
I am attempting to write a series of short essays/articles about certain things that have got me thinking. I may send a few to the Arusha Times (who are keen to publish articles from volunteers) and maybe the local press might be interested to see the thoughts of a Kirkby girl.
Any, here is the first. Enjoy!
Kids are kids
I have the privilege of teaching 70 10-14 year olds in a Tanzanian Primary school for three months. Two months through and I feel as if I am just beginning to understand life here – as much as you ever can.
Carefully, I approached my time in Sekei with few expectations. As a white middle-class Western girl I have been part of the masses swept up by the preconception that every African child walks 3 miles to a mud hut school in rags and has only a few grains of rice to nibble on humbly. I am sure this is true of some places, but I could not imagine that this was true of an entire continent.
Our introduction to the pupils of Sekei Primary was gloriously stereotypical: hundreds of smiling, open faces cheering and clapping and clinging to our arms. A touch of the “oh, thank heavens you white people have come…”
Teaching begins and we soon learn that this is a practiced show to welcome the steady stream of eager ‘mzungus’ (white travelers). Our golden days soon wear off and we see the far more preferable everyday running of school-time lives, to which we are amusing accessories for a long while.
There are pupils in my class who have lost a parent, who have HIV, whose clothes are tattered, who wake up at 5.30 to clean the house before walking 2 kilometers to get to school. So far so very ‘charity campaign’. But these are the selfsame children who pass notes in class, snigger at biological diagrams, play the clown spurred on by their friends, and ask us to give them ‘biscuitees’ or the older ones rudely demand money. It does not seem too dissimilar to my comfortable, well equipped school days.
This leads me to consider if there are prescribed roles in society that are merely played by different actors. If I went to the Himalayas or the heart of New York, would I see the same?
I think the well-excercised ‘nature versus nurture’ debate comes into this. It appears to me from the little time I have spent in an African culture that ‘kids are kids’ wherever you are. There are, however, subtle differences that are shaped by nurture. These children do not know what a Playstation is, but tell them and they will want one. Ask them who their hero is and they will say “Rinaldo”. Their footballs are made from rags and string and their toys are cars made from plastic bottles. Do not get me wrong though, there are many households that can afford televisions and poor-quality DVDs, even if they do sit in a two roomed house. Parents in a profession can save to pay for school fees and some luxuries.
I asked the cheeky-chappy class joker, Daniel, whether money can make you happy. “yes” he says without a moment’s hesitation. “Really?” I challenge, expecting him to be thinking of the material gain, but he stops me in my tracks and restores my faith in human goodness. “No. When I go to America I will make lots of money and give it to people in Tanzania who have no mother or father. I will make a house for them and give the rest to the church.” How many children themselves in America (or indeed Britain) would say that they would spend their wealth on building an orphanage? Precious few, I would wager.
So what conclusions can I draw? I feel that there are characteristics that come to fluition in any form of society, but that there are small but significant differences in the expression of these formulae; one child might play on a Nintendo Wii, one child might draw a hopscotch in the dust. Once child might want to become rich to get a nice house and sports car, another might want to spend his money for the good of an impoverished society.
I have many happy, enthusiastic, warm-hearted children under my wing, but lurking among them is the little oick who stole an iPod from us! Kids are, fundamentally, kids, wherever you are.
Any, here is the first. Enjoy!
Kids are kids
I have the privilege of teaching 70 10-14 year olds in a Tanzanian Primary school for three months. Two months through and I feel as if I am just beginning to understand life here – as much as you ever can.
Carefully, I approached my time in Sekei with few expectations. As a white middle-class Western girl I have been part of the masses swept up by the preconception that every African child walks 3 miles to a mud hut school in rags and has only a few grains of rice to nibble on humbly. I am sure this is true of some places, but I could not imagine that this was true of an entire continent.
Our introduction to the pupils of Sekei Primary was gloriously stereotypical: hundreds of smiling, open faces cheering and clapping and clinging to our arms. A touch of the “oh, thank heavens you white people have come…”
Teaching begins and we soon learn that this is a practiced show to welcome the steady stream of eager ‘mzungus’ (white travelers). Our golden days soon wear off and we see the far more preferable everyday running of school-time lives, to which we are amusing accessories for a long while.
There are pupils in my class who have lost a parent, who have HIV, whose clothes are tattered, who wake up at 5.30 to clean the house before walking 2 kilometers to get to school. So far so very ‘charity campaign’. But these are the selfsame children who pass notes in class, snigger at biological diagrams, play the clown spurred on by their friends, and ask us to give them ‘biscuitees’ or the older ones rudely demand money. It does not seem too dissimilar to my comfortable, well equipped school days.
This leads me to consider if there are prescribed roles in society that are merely played by different actors. If I went to the Himalayas or the heart of New York, would I see the same?
I think the well-excercised ‘nature versus nurture’ debate comes into this. It appears to me from the little time I have spent in an African culture that ‘kids are kids’ wherever you are. There are, however, subtle differences that are shaped by nurture. These children do not know what a Playstation is, but tell them and they will want one. Ask them who their hero is and they will say “Rinaldo”. Their footballs are made from rags and string and their toys are cars made from plastic bottles. Do not get me wrong though, there are many households that can afford televisions and poor-quality DVDs, even if they do sit in a two roomed house. Parents in a profession can save to pay for school fees and some luxuries.
I asked the cheeky-chappy class joker, Daniel, whether money can make you happy. “yes” he says without a moment’s hesitation. “Really?” I challenge, expecting him to be thinking of the material gain, but he stops me in my tracks and restores my faith in human goodness. “No. When I go to America I will make lots of money and give it to people in Tanzania who have no mother or father. I will make a house for them and give the rest to the church.” How many children themselves in America (or indeed Britain) would say that they would spend their wealth on building an orphanage? Precious few, I would wager.
So what conclusions can I draw? I feel that there are characteristics that come to fluition in any form of society, but that there are small but significant differences in the expression of these formulae; one child might play on a Nintendo Wii, one child might draw a hopscotch in the dust. Once child might want to become rich to get a nice house and sports car, another might want to spend his money for the good of an impoverished society.
I have many happy, enthusiastic, warm-hearted children under my wing, but lurking among them is the little oick who stole an iPod from us! Kids are, fundamentally, kids, wherever you are.
"Water water everywhere and not a drop to drink"
I realise that I have not written about a very large part of our lives, so this post is to make amends. Our domestic routine is measured in water units: one bucket to flush the loo, half a bucket to boil a kettle for washing up, two buckets to wash clothes and one bucket to wash ourselves.
We do have taps, and for a golden fortnight there was water surging through them, but since then, nothing. After 6 weeks we asked for the pipe to be repaired but the Tanzanian sense of urgency has prevailed! Actually, I'm not too bothered (it outweighs the unexpected opportunities for luxury) but the novelty does wear off when all four of us need to do a load of washing and showering. Consequently, I smell..!
This is how the collection routine works: we go to the mountain stream in the forest about 200 yards away with a bucket and 5l bottle each. We jump over the stagnant water to the trickle running through the rocks from Mt Meru where we scoop water into the various receptacles and pass them back to the path. One of us invariably slips over on the mud - my turn today! Alas poor dignity, I knew it well! We scramble up the bank taking care not to spill any of our precious load and waddle back to the house. Last week, two girls my age taught me how to carry a full bucket on my head. I love it - cue Mama Africa! I'm practising so that by the time I leave I can do it with no hands.
We actually find it easier when we've had a string of dry days; ironically rain is a nightmare! When it's dry the water is clear, when it is wet the water is murky. We have to leave the buckets for about an hour so that the mud sinks to the bottom and we are able to start the purification process.
Pippa has a whizzy pump that is our main form of purification. Disaster struck though when the filter broke so we had about 3 weeks of boiling for 10 minutes, or filtering through a clean t-shirt before adding iodine drops (that taste foul, by the way). Eventually a brand new pump arrived by courier from Nairobi - her dad sent a snotty e-mail to the manufacturer.
I have a clever bottle that I use a lot (despite the fact that you need a degree in order to screw the top on so that it does not leak). You fill it with dirty water, attempt to put the lid on that has a filter, shake it vigorously so that the iodine drops into it. After 15 minutes you can start drinking - it has to go through the filter to reach your mouth so you get a double whammy. The teachers are fascinated by it!
On average, we have to do about 3 trips a days of 3 buckets and 3 bottles. The kids are a great help during the school day, even if you do have to bribe them with stickers.
So that is that. I will do some more 'features' on other nitty-gritty aspects of life that I don't often write about. Hope this helps to give you more of an idea about daily life in the Sekei household. Next time you run a bath, think of me!
Lxxx
We do have taps, and for a golden fortnight there was water surging through them, but since then, nothing. After 6 weeks we asked for the pipe to be repaired but the Tanzanian sense of urgency has prevailed! Actually, I'm not too bothered (it outweighs the unexpected opportunities for luxury) but the novelty does wear off when all four of us need to do a load of washing and showering. Consequently, I smell..!
This is how the collection routine works: we go to the mountain stream in the forest about 200 yards away with a bucket and 5l bottle each. We jump over the stagnant water to the trickle running through the rocks from Mt Meru where we scoop water into the various receptacles and pass them back to the path. One of us invariably slips over on the mud - my turn today! Alas poor dignity, I knew it well! We scramble up the bank taking care not to spill any of our precious load and waddle back to the house. Last week, two girls my age taught me how to carry a full bucket on my head. I love it - cue Mama Africa! I'm practising so that by the time I leave I can do it with no hands.
We actually find it easier when we've had a string of dry days; ironically rain is a nightmare! When it's dry the water is clear, when it is wet the water is murky. We have to leave the buckets for about an hour so that the mud sinks to the bottom and we are able to start the purification process.
Pippa has a whizzy pump that is our main form of purification. Disaster struck though when the filter broke so we had about 3 weeks of boiling for 10 minutes, or filtering through a clean t-shirt before adding iodine drops (that taste foul, by the way). Eventually a brand new pump arrived by courier from Nairobi - her dad sent a snotty e-mail to the manufacturer.
I have a clever bottle that I use a lot (despite the fact that you need a degree in order to screw the top on so that it does not leak). You fill it with dirty water, attempt to put the lid on that has a filter, shake it vigorously so that the iodine drops into it. After 15 minutes you can start drinking - it has to go through the filter to reach your mouth so you get a double whammy. The teachers are fascinated by it!
On average, we have to do about 3 trips a days of 3 buckets and 3 bottles. The kids are a great help during the school day, even if you do have to bribe them with stickers.
So that is that. I will do some more 'features' on other nitty-gritty aspects of life that I don't often write about. Hope this helps to give you more of an idea about daily life in the Sekei household. Next time you run a bath, think of me!
Lxxx
Monday 23 March 2009
Saturday 21st March Mama Africa
You know, I’m really going to miss Sekei. I’ve said it before, but it has felt like home most of all this week. I have everything; a fulfilling job, a sweet house, friends within school and the community, and a sense of ‘belonging’.
One Wednesday the Hasani-Mkala double act came over to show us how to make bagir (like spicy donuts. Mama Mkala invited us to her house for supper saying we must cook it too, “Otherwise all you’ll do is sleep!” We spent a very enjoyable three hours cooking a meal which I cannot wait to replicate in England. We drank Chai, while cooking, and ginger-infused tea with the meal, which was a sort of bean stew called Ugali and hundreds of roast bananas which we took home.
Mkala’s house is tiny (two rooms) but she has built another two roomed house to rent, which she uses as her kitchen for the meanwhile. We sat around her small kerosene stove (a box about six inches square) on wooden stools draped in her Katenges so as not to get dirty, splitting beans and grinding ginger with a pestle and mortar. I mentioned that I wanted my hair put in corn-rows – the traditional African hairdo of plaits running in tracks the length of your scalp – “I go fetch Mama Joyce” she says and disappears. Soon I have two women tugging and tying my hair. I must say it looks brilliant and it only cost eleven pence! I am going to keep my hair like this until I leave because it is far more practical, especially with no water. I will devote a blog-post to water as this is such a big part of our lives.
I have another beautiful outfit too, that is perfect for teaching. I rarely wear western clothes these days! On Thursday I walked into the staff room in my outfit and freshly done hair and got a huge cheer and round of applause – “You are so beautiful, you are Mama Africa!” My new nick-name. I have helped to make the break-time Chai a few times this week, and Hasani taught me a fantastic hymn that got most of the teachers harmonising.
In terms of projects, I have got lots of interviews done with pupils, my extra desks arrived and I have written the relevant names on with pencil ready for painting, I should be talking to Fundi about my display board on Monday and we have set dates for starting work on the classrooms (28th March).
The whole school has mid-term tests all of next week, for which Pippa and I have written the English questions for standard six. I feel more nervous than the kids as it feels like a test of my teaching skills too, although I know it is not. It was a challenge doing a balanced revision session having just written the questions – Oh boy – I hope they revise this weekend! When I am not taking the tests, I will be invigilating, so no lesson plans this week – hurray!
Money evaporates as fast as water if you are not careful, and so I am monitoring my expenditure military style! I have allocated x-amount for certain things (30,000 for kitty, 20,000 for transport per week, for example) and keep a note of absolutely everything I spend. It all goes into a big table on my wall, from which I calculate the overall weekly costs and all of the sub-divisions. Over the top, I know, but I have to cut down the costs considerably. The group likes to go out for meals/swimming/clubbing a lot which I’m not that fussed about, so I am only going out once or twice a week and try to avoid going into Arusha as much as possible. I actually prefer it this way because I spend more time in Sekei and get some ‘me-time’ which I always enjoy.
I did, however, go to Via Via on Thursday night (a bar/club) because it was Tracy’s birthday and her parents were coming. I really admire Tracy; she is 37 and came to Africa with a bunch of teenagers to get more out of her life than her dead-end job offered. I thought it might be odd for all of us, but she’s slotted into the group so well.
We went to Mad’s on Friday to talk about our Safari trip. As it is out of season, we have been up-graded to THE best safari accommodation in Tanzania, full board! Apparently one hotel is right on the edge of the Ngorogoro crater with stunning views. We are getting many more opportunities for luxury than I was expecting – to be honest I have mixed feelings about it, but we do get plenty of the basic stuff at home!
Right, I’m off to do a load of washing by hand and bake a banana cake for Amy’s birthday.
Siku Njema (have a nice day)
L xxx
One Wednesday the Hasani-Mkala double act came over to show us how to make bagir (like spicy donuts. Mama Mkala invited us to her house for supper saying we must cook it too, “Otherwise all you’ll do is sleep!” We spent a very enjoyable three hours cooking a meal which I cannot wait to replicate in England. We drank Chai, while cooking, and ginger-infused tea with the meal, which was a sort of bean stew called Ugali and hundreds of roast bananas which we took home.
Mkala’s house is tiny (two rooms) but she has built another two roomed house to rent, which she uses as her kitchen for the meanwhile. We sat around her small kerosene stove (a box about six inches square) on wooden stools draped in her Katenges so as not to get dirty, splitting beans and grinding ginger with a pestle and mortar. I mentioned that I wanted my hair put in corn-rows – the traditional African hairdo of plaits running in tracks the length of your scalp – “I go fetch Mama Joyce” she says and disappears. Soon I have two women tugging and tying my hair. I must say it looks brilliant and it only cost eleven pence! I am going to keep my hair like this until I leave because it is far more practical, especially with no water. I will devote a blog-post to water as this is such a big part of our lives.
I have another beautiful outfit too, that is perfect for teaching. I rarely wear western clothes these days! On Thursday I walked into the staff room in my outfit and freshly done hair and got a huge cheer and round of applause – “You are so beautiful, you are Mama Africa!” My new nick-name. I have helped to make the break-time Chai a few times this week, and Hasani taught me a fantastic hymn that got most of the teachers harmonising.
In terms of projects, I have got lots of interviews done with pupils, my extra desks arrived and I have written the relevant names on with pencil ready for painting, I should be talking to Fundi about my display board on Monday and we have set dates for starting work on the classrooms (28th March).
The whole school has mid-term tests all of next week, for which Pippa and I have written the English questions for standard six. I feel more nervous than the kids as it feels like a test of my teaching skills too, although I know it is not. It was a challenge doing a balanced revision session having just written the questions – Oh boy – I hope they revise this weekend! When I am not taking the tests, I will be invigilating, so no lesson plans this week – hurray!
Money evaporates as fast as water if you are not careful, and so I am monitoring my expenditure military style! I have allocated x-amount for certain things (30,000 for kitty, 20,000 for transport per week, for example) and keep a note of absolutely everything I spend. It all goes into a big table on my wall, from which I calculate the overall weekly costs and all of the sub-divisions. Over the top, I know, but I have to cut down the costs considerably. The group likes to go out for meals/swimming/clubbing a lot which I’m not that fussed about, so I am only going out once or twice a week and try to avoid going into Arusha as much as possible. I actually prefer it this way because I spend more time in Sekei and get some ‘me-time’ which I always enjoy.
I did, however, go to Via Via on Thursday night (a bar/club) because it was Tracy’s birthday and her parents were coming. I really admire Tracy; she is 37 and came to Africa with a bunch of teenagers to get more out of her life than her dead-end job offered. I thought it might be odd for all of us, but she’s slotted into the group so well.
We went to Mad’s on Friday to talk about our Safari trip. As it is out of season, we have been up-graded to THE best safari accommodation in Tanzania, full board! Apparently one hotel is right on the edge of the Ngorogoro crater with stunning views. We are getting many more opportunities for luxury than I was expecting – to be honest I have mixed feelings about it, but we do get plenty of the basic stuff at home!
Right, I’m off to do a load of washing by hand and bake a banana cake for Amy’s birthday.
Siku Njema (have a nice day)
L xxx
Monday 16 March 2009
Full of Resolve and Energy…
Friday, 13th March
“Full of Resolve and Energy…”
Before I start this posting properly I must just tell you quickly that yesterday I learnt to carry water from the stream on my head, and I have just been passed a note from my pupils saying ‘Thank you for teaching us, Miss Lucie. You are a very good and very brave girl. Gord (sic) Bless you!
!!NEWSFLASH!!
The new desks arrived by cart yesterday, and are already being put to full use. A very heartfelt thank-you to those who bought the desks. Once I have the names painted, I will photograph them and send you pictures of them in use. Thank you. They have been gratefully received.
Coming home to a mouse/rat-infested, water-less, electricity-less house was a bit of slap in the face after the bliss of Zanzibar, but actually I love my little tin-roofed house!
After only two days of dust and grime, Kat’s very affluent and extremely generous parents visited Arusha for the weekend. As Kat was staying with them in the most exquisite luxury lodge we naturally made full use of a powerful shower and fluffy towels! Her parents treated us to drinks and a beautiful meal, with all taxi costs paid. When they went they left us with all sorts of practical presents – top ranking were loos rolls and water! Seriously nice people. Amy’s parents arrive on Friday – what a flurry of visitors!
On Thursday Mama Hasani, the bubbliest middle-aged teacher in the staff room, took us to meet her sweet (and enormous!) little granddaughter, and showed us literally all the family photos. There were a fair few…. The quieter, but equally lovely Mama Mkala invited us to her house this evening, in a bid not to be out done by her good friend and rival! She held my hand all the way home, and we were left with strict instructions to come again for UGALI. I love visiting people’s houses as they offer such generosity and it’s a chance to see far more clearly how professional Tanzanians' lives tick.
My resolve to learn more Swahili began in earnest with Mama Kessy on Friday – she taught me reams of vocabulary including a song to remember the days of the week, a catchy little number….
Back to the most important thing – school. Teaching has been a joy this week. I have started the topic of description, first covering emotions. It has far more creative opportunities than other topics and, Alleluia!, the kids have understood and enjoyed my new-fangled ideas. One example is flash cards. We give each word from the vocabulary list an action; e.g. they cross their arms and say “Hmmph!” for grumpy. I would hold up a card with a word on, and they have to say it and do the action. It’s a big hit!
My resolution number two – to throw myself into school life more – led to another singing club (not entirely successful, more of a brawl!) and watching Mr Lugenge’s seventh grade lesson. He teaches social studies, but feels that the textbook will not be good enough for the coming exam. His lesson was like Hector’s enriching General Studies lesson in ‘The History Boys’. It was over two hours of explaining anything from Australia’s chicken success, to why some people are Albinos, to IVF treatment!
If a pupil stood up to ask a question, he would give them a full and proper answer. I’m very keen to get involved in this, and so will help Mr Lugenge prepare some topics and hopefully give a few mini lectures (in English with him translating) about maybe philosophy or politics or English cultural history. I cannot wait – I will keep you posted.
In my new and improved ‘resolved and energised’ state I have got a number of school improvements going. My personal project is to make a big display board with a secure Perspex cover to go on the back wall of my classroom. Disappointingly, anything left on the wall gets stolen. It’s very sad, but I have to accept that's how it is. This way I can put up long-term displays and screw the cover on so that they actually stay there.
Amy has a pot of gold to spend on school, so I spent sometime with Mr Mkosi and a Fundi (builder) discussing school improvements. (Amy couldn’t come, but we will project-manage this together.)
The three classrooms in the outer block next to me will get their rooms finished with ceiling tiles, 7A will maybe get a repaired floor, and we will ourselves paint the outside walls in a bright colour with artwork, hand prints and ‘Welcome to Sekei Primary’. You see the building as you walk up the road, so the school is keen for it to look attractive and create a good impression. There is a lot of work involved – step one is drawing some designs to have a staff-and-pupils vote. To keep labour costs down we will be doing all of the painting ourselves plus helping to mix concrete etc! I’m very excited about this.
Such a lot to write this week, and I have left reams out! I hope next time I write I will be able to update you on these various projects.
Tutaonana Badaye!
Lucie xxx
“Full of Resolve and Energy…”
Before I start this posting properly I must just tell you quickly that yesterday I learnt to carry water from the stream on my head, and I have just been passed a note from my pupils saying ‘Thank you for teaching us, Miss Lucie. You are a very good and very brave girl. Gord (sic) Bless you!
!!NEWSFLASH!!
The new desks arrived by cart yesterday, and are already being put to full use. A very heartfelt thank-you to those who bought the desks. Once I have the names painted, I will photograph them and send you pictures of them in use. Thank you. They have been gratefully received.
Coming home to a mouse/rat-infested, water-less, electricity-less house was a bit of slap in the face after the bliss of Zanzibar, but actually I love my little tin-roofed house!
After only two days of dust and grime, Kat’s very affluent and extremely generous parents visited Arusha for the weekend. As Kat was staying with them in the most exquisite luxury lodge we naturally made full use of a powerful shower and fluffy towels! Her parents treated us to drinks and a beautiful meal, with all taxi costs paid. When they went they left us with all sorts of practical presents – top ranking were loos rolls and water! Seriously nice people. Amy’s parents arrive on Friday – what a flurry of visitors!
On Thursday Mama Hasani, the bubbliest middle-aged teacher in the staff room, took us to meet her sweet (and enormous!) little granddaughter, and showed us literally all the family photos. There were a fair few…. The quieter, but equally lovely Mama Mkala invited us to her house this evening, in a bid not to be out done by her good friend and rival! She held my hand all the way home, and we were left with strict instructions to come again for UGALI. I love visiting people’s houses as they offer such generosity and it’s a chance to see far more clearly how professional Tanzanians' lives tick.
My resolve to learn more Swahili began in earnest with Mama Kessy on Friday – she taught me reams of vocabulary including a song to remember the days of the week, a catchy little number….
Back to the most important thing – school. Teaching has been a joy this week. I have started the topic of description, first covering emotions. It has far more creative opportunities than other topics and, Alleluia!, the kids have understood and enjoyed my new-fangled ideas. One example is flash cards. We give each word from the vocabulary list an action; e.g. they cross their arms and say “Hmmph!” for grumpy. I would hold up a card with a word on, and they have to say it and do the action. It’s a big hit!
My resolution number two – to throw myself into school life more – led to another singing club (not entirely successful, more of a brawl!) and watching Mr Lugenge’s seventh grade lesson. He teaches social studies, but feels that the textbook will not be good enough for the coming exam. His lesson was like Hector’s enriching General Studies lesson in ‘The History Boys’. It was over two hours of explaining anything from Australia’s chicken success, to why some people are Albinos, to IVF treatment!
If a pupil stood up to ask a question, he would give them a full and proper answer. I’m very keen to get involved in this, and so will help Mr Lugenge prepare some topics and hopefully give a few mini lectures (in English with him translating) about maybe philosophy or politics or English cultural history. I cannot wait – I will keep you posted.
In my new and improved ‘resolved and energised’ state I have got a number of school improvements going. My personal project is to make a big display board with a secure Perspex cover to go on the back wall of my classroom. Disappointingly, anything left on the wall gets stolen. It’s very sad, but I have to accept that's how it is. This way I can put up long-term displays and screw the cover on so that they actually stay there.
Amy has a pot of gold to spend on school, so I spent sometime with Mr Mkosi and a Fundi (builder) discussing school improvements. (Amy couldn’t come, but we will project-manage this together.)
The three classrooms in the outer block next to me will get their rooms finished with ceiling tiles, 7A will maybe get a repaired floor, and we will ourselves paint the outside walls in a bright colour with artwork, hand prints and ‘Welcome to Sekei Primary’. You see the building as you walk up the road, so the school is keen for it to look attractive and create a good impression. There is a lot of work involved – step one is drawing some designs to have a staff-and-pupils vote. To keep labour costs down we will be doing all of the painting ourselves plus helping to mix concrete etc! I’m very excited about this.
Such a lot to write this week, and I have left reams out! I hope next time I write I will be able to update you on these various projects.
Tutaonana Badaye!
Lucie xxx
Saturday 7 March 2009
cont...
We spent the majority of our time in Nungwi, 'traveler's central', although it was not at all what I had imagined - no hint of hideous concrete hotels and 'the Brit abroad'. Instead, we discovered miles of sand as white and fine as silk with a few beech side bars and restaurants under the traditional banana-leaf roofs. A little further along were some unobtrusive hotels and more upmarket restaurants that we were able to indulge in when the budget allowed.
If ever anyone comes to Zanz (I would recommend taking any opportunity!) visit Langi Langi. The absolutely charming manager did his hotelier training in London, but felt pulled back to his home. He certainly knew how to create customer loyalty: free ice-cream, very generous discounts because we are Tanz residents and teachers, fishing for squid then serving it to us as a yummy free dish in the evening. And the food, wow. Exquisite by any British upmarket restaurant's standards.
I'm going to have to be selective about what I write about, otherwise this post will turn into a novel...
'Can't believe it' moment #1
Sipping a fresh pina colada watching the silhouetted dhows (traditional sailing boats) bobbing around in the gold-streaked water as the sun went down.
'Can't believe it' moment #2
Being sat in the sand at dusk with a rasta guitarist being played everything from self-composed reggae to Bob Marley to Oasis. I ate the best lichee (?sp) of my life (yes, I have had it before...) and harmonised with him.
'Cant believe it' moment #3
Snorkeling.
After going through my budget with a fine toothcomb, I allowed myself the luxery of $20 to go snorkeling. I am so glad I did, I will look back at it for the rest of my life, and look at it as a yardstick for happiness. A dhow took a group of around 30 to coral off the shore of the epitome of a paradise island, where we swam with over 100 varieties of fish over vivid coral of all shapes and sizes. We saw some dolphins playing nearer the mainland, but it was too far for us to reach them.
When we had all slopped back into the boat, we were taken to an all-but deserted stretch of beech. We waded through the surf to where we had the most exquisite tuna with ground garlic and ginger, and rice. I met so many interesting people, including 4 medical staff from an aid station in the Sudan (on R&R) and an engineer/artist who was behind the 'growing' stage at the Winter Olympics at Salt Lake City. He showed us pictures on his iphone and listened politely as I asked for any advice for my brother's engineering ambitions. We eventually drifted back to Nungwi and spent the night at the eccentric hippy/rasta bar where you sit in boats of hammocks and politely decline the sheisha (local weed).
It was actually quite nice coming back to Arusha - made me realise how much I see it as my home now. Having said that, the journey was pretty grim, but I prefer to call it 'adventurous'! Very early ferry (2hrs of sea-sickness), apparently missing our choice of coach, having no option but to take the dodgy bus that had people jumping on and off while moving for a good 10 miles, 11 hours sat on it with one brief stop, breaking down three times in the back-end-of-beyond, and having to pay double the fee to everyone else - the curse of the mzungu!
It was, however, an excellent way to see just how varied Tanzania's landscape is and have time to ponder over my very fortunate life. I'm glad we had that journey because it means I can get the tremendously strong desire to strangle the conning protagonists from Saibaba well out the way before Jon comes out! Hopefully I will be as chillaxed as a cucumber and take the 'meh, this is Africa' approach for our 2months traveling.
I have returned home full of resolve and energy. I have lots more ideas (like compiling a number of interviews with pupils and staff on my ipod), and my lenten resolution is to learn much more Swahili. Roll on the next 6 weeks (but not too fast please, I want to savour every moment)!
Tutaonana badaye (see you later)
Lxxx
If ever anyone comes to Zanz (I would recommend taking any opportunity!) visit Langi Langi. The absolutely charming manager did his hotelier training in London, but felt pulled back to his home. He certainly knew how to create customer loyalty: free ice-cream, very generous discounts because we are Tanz residents and teachers, fishing for squid then serving it to us as a yummy free dish in the evening. And the food, wow. Exquisite by any British upmarket restaurant's standards.
I'm going to have to be selective about what I write about, otherwise this post will turn into a novel...
'Can't believe it' moment #1
Sipping a fresh pina colada watching the silhouetted dhows (traditional sailing boats) bobbing around in the gold-streaked water as the sun went down.
'Can't believe it' moment #2
Being sat in the sand at dusk with a rasta guitarist being played everything from self-composed reggae to Bob Marley to Oasis. I ate the best lichee (?sp) of my life (yes, I have had it before...) and harmonised with him.
'Cant believe it' moment #3
Snorkeling.
After going through my budget with a fine toothcomb, I allowed myself the luxery of $20 to go snorkeling. I am so glad I did, I will look back at it for the rest of my life, and look at it as a yardstick for happiness. A dhow took a group of around 30 to coral off the shore of the epitome of a paradise island, where we swam with over 100 varieties of fish over vivid coral of all shapes and sizes. We saw some dolphins playing nearer the mainland, but it was too far for us to reach them.
When we had all slopped back into the boat, we were taken to an all-but deserted stretch of beech. We waded through the surf to where we had the most exquisite tuna with ground garlic and ginger, and rice. I met so many interesting people, including 4 medical staff from an aid station in the Sudan (on R&R) and an engineer/artist who was behind the 'growing' stage at the Winter Olympics at Salt Lake City. He showed us pictures on his iphone and listened politely as I asked for any advice for my brother's engineering ambitions. We eventually drifted back to Nungwi and spent the night at the eccentric hippy/rasta bar where you sit in boats of hammocks and politely decline the sheisha (local weed).
It was actually quite nice coming back to Arusha - made me realise how much I see it as my home now. Having said that, the journey was pretty grim, but I prefer to call it 'adventurous'! Very early ferry (2hrs of sea-sickness), apparently missing our choice of coach, having no option but to take the dodgy bus that had people jumping on and off while moving for a good 10 miles, 11 hours sat on it with one brief stop, breaking down three times in the back-end-of-beyond, and having to pay double the fee to everyone else - the curse of the mzungu!
It was, however, an excellent way to see just how varied Tanzania's landscape is and have time to ponder over my very fortunate life. I'm glad we had that journey because it means I can get the tremendously strong desire to strangle the conning protagonists from Saibaba well out the way before Jon comes out! Hopefully I will be as chillaxed as a cucumber and take the 'meh, this is Africa' approach for our 2months traveling.
I have returned home full of resolve and energy. I have lots more ideas (like compiling a number of interviews with pupils and staff on my ipod), and my lenten resolution is to learn much more Swahili. Roll on the next 6 weeks (but not too fast please, I want to savour every moment)!
Tutaonana badaye (see you later)
Lxxx
Paradise Island
Zanzibar, an island rich in history, spices and beeches, is somewhere I will never forget. It was one of those truly surreal experiences where you felt like you were stepping into a postcard or beautiful picture book. I feel so incredibly lucky and privileged to have the opportunity of travelling available to me.
Our week's holiday was five days on Nungwi's beeches sandwiched between two stays in Stone Town, Zanzibar's port and city.
Stone Town: A beautifully shabby town with palaces, mosques, spice markets, food markets, backstreet 'duka's' selling fabric and allegedly 'antique' jewellery and spice boxes. It's fair share of hustlers too, as is to be expected. We spent a day here to recover from the 10hour coach journey and 2 hour ferry crossing, and spent much of it wandering through the beautiful shabby backstreets.
Most of the doors have beautifully ornate carvings in a dark wood (mahogony?), and you have to dodge out of the way of immams on motorbikes. Definitely one of the highlights on ST was the Forodhani Food Market. This is every foody's dream: when it starts to get dark you do to the water's edge where there are over 100 stalls selling every variety of exotic fish and sea food, as well as meat, rice, naan, sweet and savoury pancakes and sugarcane juice. I put aside my natural aversion to anything from the sea (!) and am pleased to report that I quite like barakuda, although I wouldn't chose calamari in a restaurant! On our last evening, I managed to buy cannily and do a spot of haggling, and was completely full for about 2pounds - not bad!
After a not very pleasant experience on our first visit, which resulted in 4 of the group having to hand over some money, it was very refreshing to meet Abubaker Sali. We were eating our seafood kebabs on the grass when we saw a tiny monkey skuttle across in front of us and onto a smallish man in his twenties. We got chatting, and Abu, son of a vet, had found 'Alladin' in a bush at 2 days old - her mother had abandoned her. He took her home, got her vaccinated etc, and is bringing her up as his daughter! She was so sweet and human-like - when we walked away her face wrinkled and she started to cry! Apparently she will grow to around two feet, and continue to follow Abu wherever he goes. Aw, sweet. Right, sickly sweet stuff over, on to Nungwi...
T.b.c
Our week's holiday was five days on Nungwi's beeches sandwiched between two stays in Stone Town, Zanzibar's port and city.
Stone Town: A beautifully shabby town with palaces, mosques, spice markets, food markets, backstreet 'duka's' selling fabric and allegedly 'antique' jewellery and spice boxes. It's fair share of hustlers too, as is to be expected. We spent a day here to recover from the 10hour coach journey and 2 hour ferry crossing, and spent much of it wandering through the beautiful shabby backstreets.
Most of the doors have beautifully ornate carvings in a dark wood (mahogony?), and you have to dodge out of the way of immams on motorbikes. Definitely one of the highlights on ST was the Forodhani Food Market. This is every foody's dream: when it starts to get dark you do to the water's edge where there are over 100 stalls selling every variety of exotic fish and sea food, as well as meat, rice, naan, sweet and savoury pancakes and sugarcane juice. I put aside my natural aversion to anything from the sea (!) and am pleased to report that I quite like barakuda, although I wouldn't chose calamari in a restaurant! On our last evening, I managed to buy cannily and do a spot of haggling, and was completely full for about 2pounds - not bad!
After a not very pleasant experience on our first visit, which resulted in 4 of the group having to hand over some money, it was very refreshing to meet Abubaker Sali. We were eating our seafood kebabs on the grass when we saw a tiny monkey skuttle across in front of us and onto a smallish man in his twenties. We got chatting, and Abu, son of a vet, had found 'Alladin' in a bush at 2 days old - her mother had abandoned her. He took her home, got her vaccinated etc, and is bringing her up as his daughter! She was so sweet and human-like - when we walked away her face wrinkled and she started to cry! Apparently she will grow to around two feet, and continue to follow Abu wherever he goes. Aw, sweet. Right, sickly sweet stuff over, on to Nungwi...
T.b.c
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