Liz in Tanzania: The Kids, The School, The Rains

This is a new thing for me, to spend a couple of years, and it's good.

I'm usually a little more mobile, but I've decorated with all the stuff I've collected over the years and it's nice to have a home. Plus, this time I get a chance to see the effect the walls can have over time.

Already I'm amazed, but it's not just the walls. Martha, our head teacher, is great. She's Tanzanian, 24, likes kids, and likes teaching. We also have stuff, some books, things donated, and things I brought with me. So combined with the walls we rock.

We are standing on stones. Nouns and verbs. We go outside

everyday, lots of nouns and verbs outside.

We try as much as possible to speak English, but sometimes we need to use Kiswahili. These aren't like American kids. Most of these kids have had NO exposure to oh, anything academic, so you can only try to explain something in English for so long till you just have to slip into something they understand. One little girl doesn't even speak Kiswahili. Aside from Kiswahili, which is the official language of Tz, every village has a tribal language, sometimes multiple tribal languages. So, she speaks Kaguru.

This happens frequently in small, rural villages and when these kids start first grade, which is taught in Kiswahili, they're behind from day one and will probably stay there. But they are an amazing group. The other day during peanut time, Freddy turned to me and said "Hello, my name is Freddy Adani, I come from Berega. I am a boy. I am 6 years old. May I have peanuts?" Nilishangaa! Martha and I just looked at each other and smiled. These are all things we've said to them many times in many forms, but he put it all together. They're all starting to speak in full sentences, small ones, but still very cool.

They're a wild bunch. When I asked a retired teacher about caning she told me that unless kids are caned, and caned regularly, they act up and won't learn . So that's crap. They're a little nuts, but they're learning. Anyway, I like it a little crazy. I was one of those kids in school who sat in the back and made smart assed remarks all day but got good grades so they couldn't do much to me.This is my playground and I'm loving it.

Shapes and colors

These are some happy preschoolers, which is not the rule here. The Kiswahili preschool next to us (we're English medium) canes the kids, so theres always lots of crying and hollering across the courtyard. Before you wonder why I haven't stormed over here to stop it, please remember I tried that in Idweli about 6 years ago and they just beat the kids harder after I left the room. So instead of helping I made it worse. Ive been talking to the pastor about it, his church runs that preschool. He doesnt seem overly concerned about it, kids get caned here, it's always been that way. A moral dilemma for sure, but I have no idea what to do about it except NOT cane our kids and hope the Kiswahili teachers notice.

We are smelling, we are smelling. Learning verbs.

School here can be pretty boring as well. In the old colonial style, the teacher stands in front of the class (with a stick) and repeats the same old stuff over and over. The kids learn early on that this is school, and it's no fun.

Not so our school, it's interactive and loud and very busy. And the kids like school.They come by in the afternoons and weekends while I paint to look at books and draw. Eventually we will have electricity in the classroom and then we can have evening classes and a library. A place to go.

The rains are finally here, asante Mungu. Everyone here grows maize, and after harvesting it's dried, then ground into powder to make ugali. They sell the excess to buy other things. So if the maize dies they have to use what little money they have to buy ugali, which leaves almost nothing for school fees, doctors... So it's good to see the rain.

Taken from inside the preschool on rain day. It just poured down the hill.

It rained all night last night, came down in buckets. And speaking of buckets, anyone with a brain puts theirs out to catch rain water. The ground water here is a little salty, and we bathe and wash our clothes in it, so you can imagine what a good cloud soak means.I had my buckets out, and even treated myself to a rainwater bath. Very nice. Most of the upper echelon hospital staff, and us wazungu, have a rainwater collection tank which drains from the roof. So we can have cleanish water most of the time, weather permitting. We filter it and it's safe and tasty. Very few villagers have this, and have to fetch every day.

It takes about a minute to fill a bucket this way, beats the hell out of a 30 minute walk to fetch salty water from a hole in the ground.

This has been a real moral issue for me (yet another one). Before the rains came, people would come and ask me for water, rain or ground. I have spigots in the house for both kinds of water but the locals fetch from over the hill. Anyway, I said yes and they told everyone that the mzungu was giving up water and then it got out of hand, so I have now refused to give water to a fellow human being. This doesn't sit well with me, why should I have steady access and they don't. Anyway, I'm probably just as happy as they are about the rains, and I don't even eat ugali.

Left right left right. It's a process.

I figured none of the kids would come to school today because of the storm, so I thought I'd pack my computer and other junk in a bucket and try to get to school without sliding down the hill with all the leaves, twigs, and small children. Figured I'd spend the day painting the walls and listening to music. Mwalimu Martha (teacher), showed up, as well as a few kids, so we had a rain day. I showed them pictures on my computer, played music, and tried to teach them to say LONG LIVE ROCK AND ROLL. Given how Africans mix R and L,(one day I'll tell you about Zambia's big erection) the results were less than stellar. But I've got time. Anyway, they played games, danced, and generally had a good time. I like preschool.

Christina came with me on Saturday and while I painted, she drew.

She's the girl with the bad leg infection, all better now

I want to tell you about the kids, so will start with Freddy. He's a sweet kid, his mom is a nurses aide at the hospital. It's steady work but doesn't pay much, so the money she spends to send him to us is hard earned. Freddy was the last kid to get his uniform, (all the schools here wear uniforms). Which I think is bull. Primary school is supposedly free, but you can't attend without a uniform and shoes, so lots of kids don't go to school for this reason. So how is that free?

Freddy

Freddy stopped coming to school for a few days because he lost his shoes, but I talked to his mom and told her he could come without shoes. He could come in his underwear for all I care, but then he doesn't have any of those either. I know this because he's been walking around holding up his pants for a couple of weeks while his mom saved the money for a belt. But now he has a uniform, a belt, and shoes. No underwear though, but then that's why we have belts, isnt it?Anyway he's a keeper. He's got a sweet spirit and he's a natural born gentleman.

Samweli, on the other hand, is what we call in Hawaiian, kolohi, a real rascal. Not bad, but just into stuff. He reminds me of Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes. Kinda looks like him too. His father is a tailor, so while he's verbally not as sharp as Freddy, he does know the English words for dress, pants and shirt.

Samweli

I have a good group of adult learners. Waziri is faithful, although he's not here tonight. He has four tests tomorrow, or as he told me, "I have four testes". I decided to leave that one alone,he'll figure it out on his own one day. He has four testes tomorrow because the rains made the river impossible to cross yesterday, so some of the kids missed two tests and will have to double up tomorrow. The teachers were planning to cane them for missing the tests, but they managed to convince that bunch of dopes they weren't actually responsible for the rain. Sheesh. I'm investigating private schools in Morogoro, he's got too much going for him to stay in a village school.

Freddy's mom, Mama Freddy, comes to me for lessons, as well as Zakayo, who prepped the preschool room before we started painting. I adore Mama Freddy, she's just a good, hardworking lady and we spend lots of time just getting to know one another, in English with some Kiswahili mixed in.

Then there's Abdallah (which means servant of God), who drives the daladala everyday to Morogoro and back. He'll also pick up odds and ends for people who can't make it to town. He brought me eggs yesterday and felt so bad when one cracked, but I didn't care. Eggs in a plastic bag don't travel well on a bumpy dirt road, and I usually sacrifice one or two to the god of the barabara (road). Hamna shida. He's also got unbelievable bone structure and smells divine. Another keeper.

Taking a small likizo (vacation) in two weeks. Going up to Mbeya for a couple of weeks to check up on some kids in school, visit some old friends, and eat chinese food. There's a restaurant there that we frequented last trip and I never got sick once. They have an interesting menu, and every time I go I ask for the squirrel like fish or deep fried cubes. They always said they didn't have the squirrel like fish, and when I asked "Deep fried cubes of what?" they said they didn't have any of those either. But they do have a hot sauce that can burn all the hair out of your nose.

I'm not bringing my computer with me, so will be off the grid for a while. If you're inclined to worry about me when you don't hear from me, don't. Will have lots to report when I return.

Wish me safari njema. Nakupenda. L