You Say Tomato

I believe we are all exactly alike but at the same time totally different. We all want the same things; good food, warm houses, healthy kids, all that stuff, but we go about it differently. Part of life in a different country is experiencing an entirely new culture, seeing how my new neighbors go about their lives, all the while trying not to make too big a jackass out of myself.
Crooking your index finger to call a person to you is so vile in Tz it took me over a year to convince someone to tell me what it means. At the same time, everyone here points with their middle finger. I've been flipped off by everyone in Tz with sufficient manual dexterity to lift the middle while simultaneously bending the surrounding two .

My neighbors kids playing with fire.
It's the TZ version of an Easy Bake Oven.

My neighbor Ruth Mgego came over the other night. She's married to Isaac, the hospital director, and we have become good friends. They correct my Kiswahili, which is improving, and are happy to explain local culture to me. I've said before that all tribes are different, have different characteristics and traits, but some things are pretty standard.

It's likizo now, and folks are packing up to visit family and friends, like we do everywhere. The difference here is that an entire family can (and probably will) descend upon their relatives for the whole vacation. Usually a prosperous family member hosts, (in the Mgego family it's Isaac), and at this time 11 people have arrived to stay as long as they want, maybe even until school resumes.




There are 2 long breaks during the school year, so this can happen twice yearly, and perhaps more will come next time. According to Ruth, it's the wageni (guests) responsibility to get themselves to their destination. But that's where it ends. Some can bring rice or whatever, if they want, but it's the responsibility of the host to feed and house the wageni for as long as they wish to stay. In this case, maybe 4-5 weeks. Then, when it's time to leave, the host family pays the return ticket and gives parting gifts to the guests. As school is resuming in August, these gifts are likely to be clothes, shoes or money. These are not hard and fast rules, but it's what's happening next door.

Yams. These kids are good at making a fire. I'm still learning.

It's basically an extended family reunion, with lots of people to help with cooking and cleaning. I asked Ruth if this is burdensome, and she said they will be financially strapped for month or so afterward, but she's used to it, they're family, and anyway, you can't refuse. So hamna shida. Besides, she says the house is big enough. It's actually not much bigger than mine, and I can't begin to imagine eleven people in here. Ruth said as long as you can fit 2-3 people in a bed, hamna shida.

My friends big mother. All a woman's female 

siblings are her child's mother, 

a big mother or a small mother, depending

 on birth order. Same goes for men

If you are well raised, and gainfully employed, it is your duty is to build a house for your parents, even before you build yours. And as a well educated and prosperous person, the education of the entire clan falls to you. School fees are a huge burden, and sometimes only one or two children in a family can be educated, so those that are educated assume responsibility for the rest.This is all done without grudge or whining, again, it's just the way it is. It's also why, according to Isaac, educated people never get ahead like they do in other countries. You just pay, and pay and pay.

The beginning of ugali. It's harvest and you can

 find a mound of maize in front of most houses

The women take the kernels off the cob 

( which can then be used for fuel or yikes! toilet paper)

The kernels are dried (see behind the mound), then washed and milled. It's tasteless and almost devoid of nutrients, but its cheap.

I asked what would happen if someone would refuse and Ruth just looked a me and laughed. It's rarely done, it would be shida kubwa sana. There are people who do this, but they are not well looked on, and were probably poorly raised. If you live very far away, maybe you can get away with it, but you must live far, far away.

Village life is all about relationships, and following the rules, and to go outside these norms is not good for either the person or the village. Ruth asked about America, and I had to say that while we all follow the same general customs, Americans are a lot more independent, more mobile, and a lot less crowded. Also we aren't financially responsible for everyone in our entire gene pool.

Bikes have made it possible to carry over 100 lbs

 of water at one time.

It's also the only way a man will do it.

Isaac said that nowadays, with all the new ideas coming in, many changes are happening, which is both good and bad. Good because it gives people a chance at improved education, health, general well being. But these new things do supplant some of the old ways, and herein is the clash. Old customs are falling away, and he's sad about this. For example, years ago he'd send his son Mbuli to his bibi (grandmother) for a few months during the year, but now he can't because of school.

In the past, women would weave and 

use lovely baskets. Plastic bags were

introduced and now these used bags 

are everywhere. Sometimes change 

isn't for the better.

It took America and other developed countries hundreds of years to gradually get to where we are, for good or bad. So when we go to a developing country to show off all our good stuff and tell them they can have this too, we forget that they didn't get the same centuries worth of adjustment. It's a difficult jump to make, and we shouldn't be surprised when some things fall flat.

From small, little girls practice carrying objects on their heads, starting with small things like a pot or a small half filled container. The women will comment as they pass by, call advice or laugh. As time goes by the size and weight, as well as the fullness of the bucket increases, and it's a matter of pride to do this well. It's part of being a woman in Africa. Running water, while convenient, would change this, and although I think the ladies would be more than happy to adjust, it will be an ancient part of life that will be gone.




Some practices are just wrong, no matter how ancient. Female circumcision is gradually going by the wayside in some areas, but very gradually, and surprisingly, much of the resistance comes from the women. In some cultures a girl cannot become a proper woman, and marry a good man, unless she's been cut. So the older ladies are horrified that young women should want to do otherwise.

Brick making in Berega. Behind this is
a really big hole where they get the clay.

Most teachers and parents alike believe that a student will not learn unless they are occasionally beaten, it was done to them zamani na zamani into the ancestors. It's not a good thing to beat a kid, but at the same time, the kids here are pretty well behaved. Being well acquainted with our wazungu attitude toward corporal punishment, and how can I put this nicely, the way some wazungu kids act, I find myself occasionally confused about my feelings on this issue.




Not sure where I've been going with this, I guess I'm just trying to tell you about life here. Besides, there's been no cats in the toilet, no recent episodes of typhoid, nothing exciting this week. 

If you ever wonder what happened 

to all the phone booths in America, 

here they are.

I did have a strange dream the other night, in which I was preparing to wed Bayona, the hospital electrician and driver. He's in his 30s, married and has a son, strangely not an issue in my dream. We were looking at cakes, wonderful cakes, when he told me I was required to produce at least one son. At this point I told him that not only am I well past child bearing age, but I have no ovaries, as well as being uterusless. Hamna shida,  we told all the guests that the wedding was off, and there were no hard feelings.

This guy makes snake anti-venom he sells at the market.

Python was fed yesterday, so sleepy and more cuddly than usual.

Then followed a dream involving my old friend Sheila O'Malley who I haven't seen in 20 years. We were in a supermarket buying meat. Not just any meat, but slabs and slabs of good quality meat that only cost 47 cents/lb.We couldn't throw it into the cart fast enough. I imagine Freud would have a field day with this, but most likely I'm just protein deficient, and judging by the first dream, cake deprived.

I don't eat much meat on a good day, even less here, and I've spoken before about the free range fare offered in the village. Mostly I've likened it to meat flavored gum, you can chew it for hours till all the flavor is gone, then you stick it under your desk. If you boil it fir a good bit first you can actually digest it, but who has that much charcoal? 


I'm going to Morogoro in a few minutes, trolling for meat, possibly a 9000 tsh chicken or lunch at Ricky's Cafe where you can get real cake and ice cream. My standard meal when I go to town.

Update. The little girl with the perforated bowel came by for a follow up yesterday. She looks fabulous. Haven't seen Socks around, but occasionally hear a cat screaming and grit my teeth in anticipation of some grubby little urchin  with a long stick looking to negotiate a price. Also still haven't unearthed the perp. Sometimes I'm amazed at what occupies my mind and time. Was I like this in America?

OK, so I'm holding an 18 foot python but all I can think of is I 

look fat in this shirt.

It's evening, I've been to Morogoro, had chicken curry at Ricky's, followed by black forest cake and vanilla ice cream. It's the only place for many, many towns where you can get this, and tonight I sleep the sleep of the well fed.

Nakupenda

Traveling With Samaki

If you travel anywhere near the Malawi border you will undoubtedly travel with fish, either fresh or dried. And having been to Malawi and back on numerous occasions to renew my visa, I can say I prefer fresh.You can travel by daladala, taxi, bus or bike, it makes no difference. Even on foot there's bound to be a woman walking in front of you with a 40 #bucket of fish on her head.

There's a particular fish called dagaa, very small, very pungent when dried, usually eaten with ugali. I once rode a daladala from Kyela (near the border) to Tukuyu (not near the border), with 200 # of dagaa in the seat behind me. So yes, I do have a preference.

Fish drying racks, to ensure extra pungency.

This particular trip, I was in a shared taxi from Karonga to the border, and the fish were in large buckets directly behind me. A lovely woman in the front seat tried to convince me to switch seats with her, as a courtesy to the mzungu, but 1) it's an embarrassment to be treated differently because of my skin and 2) just about anywhere in a small car with 50 #of fish is ground zero, as far as I'm concerned.

There's 4 people in the front,(two in the drivers seat).

 Five in the middle, and three of us in the back. The fish were 

behind me in the back.

Anchors

Every three months I renew my visa, which requires that I cross a border, any border, and get a new 90 day stamp on my passport upon re-entry. Tanzania is bordered by Kenya, Uganda, Rwanda, Burundi, Zambia, Malawi and Mozambique. Five of these countries I have not visited, and would love to, but Malawi has a no fee on entry policy with America, while Zambia charges 50 USD. So I go to Malawi. It's close, there's a nice place on Lake Malawi that I frequent, and all the border guys know me and don't hassle me anymore. This alone is enough to ensure my devotion.




I always like the Beach Chamber, it's located in the middle of a little fishing village in the town of Karonga, and I love to watch life around the lake. It's a huge part of life there, people washing clothes, kids, themselves, fishing in boats, or with poles, washing dishes, bikes, and selling their catch when they come to shore.

This is also the place where I got what my friend Anne calls machine gun diarrhea. But I didn't eat the street meat on the ride in, and I opted for chicken curry instead of the fish. Hamna shida, not even a cramp.

My boat guide

I love the birds, they come each evening to perch on a little island about 150 yards off shore, and fly off in the morning. Sunrise is right over the water, and I like to be up early to watch the fishermen go out to set nets or come in with their catch. Some go out at night and sleep on the islands, others go out in the am.

While I was taking pictures of the beached boats before sunrise, a couple of guys came to begin their day, we struck a deal, and I was in the boat. It was too fun, in spite of the fact that there's no stabilizers on these boats. It's all balance, which these guys have plenty of given they do it everyday.




They were eager for me to stand up, just for the experience, and hamna shidaed me about fifty times. I however, don't do this everyday, and was sitting in the canoe with a $500 camera. Years ago, I was in a canoe paddling club, so I'm no stranger to falling out of a boat, and will try it cameraless next time.

kids fishing

We spent about an hour on the water, and on a little island offshore. It was great, I got some beautiful pictures, and next time will arrange a sunset trip for the birds. I've never taken pictures from a canoe on open water, it had it's challenges, but the view was astounding. All in all a good crossing. Then on to Mbeya for graduation.




About 3 years ago I was approached by my friends Alice and David Simpokolwe, Zambians living in Mbeya. They are Batizo's guardians, a young woman from a far away village. She was living with David and Alice, but wanted to go to nursing school. They were looking for a sponsor, and as I love to help make a nurse, I said ok.




She applied for a spot at Mbalizi Nursing School, and out of 700 applicants, she was one of about 50 accepted. So last Saturday she graduated, a very happy day. She's now a trained midwife.

The director of the hospital here in Berega has offered her a job, and I did talk to her about it, but as education is all about having options, I asked her to think about it and choose wisely and dispassionately. I would hate for her to come to Berega because she felt an obligation toward me. She doesn't owe me a thing.

more kids fishing

I did tell her about Berega. It's a great place, I love it, but there's nothing to do.  If I was her, I'd go to Arusha or Iringa, or stay in Mbeya. These are big towns with theaters, libraries, restaurants, places to spend the money she's about to make. David and Alice are coming up to see her this week, and they will all talk. Her decision.

When I go to Mbeya, I usually stay with my friends John and Kay, very down to earth missionaries originally from Australia. I've mentioned them before, they're the ones who adopted Asha, a little Maasai girl. She's nine now, and has been home schooled by her mom. Asha is about the smartest little 9 year old I know, and has loads upon loads of books she's used over the years. Kay was more than happy to unload some of these on me, and I was more than happy to accept. So I returned to Berega with 2 travel bags loaded with books, to be added to the huge bag of books I got in Dar. So begins Berega Community Library.




We need a library, folks here like to read, there just aren't any books. SO, for those of you who have sent books, asante and send more. Haven't gotten them yet, but hamna shida, they will arrive. We use the Anglican Church PO Box so there's very little theft. If you send a box to Ghana, you ensure safe delivery by scrawling dire warnings on the box promising "a curse on he who steals from orphans". Apparently you dont need to do that here if you use a church PO Box.

Life on shore is busy.

Kay told me that if you want to send me boxes of books, write Educational Material on the green sticker that they attach at the post office. This doesn't make it any cheaper for you, but it does keep me out of the TRA office. TRA is the Tanzania Revenue Authority, known far and wide as the most corrupt agency in Tz, if not the entire continent. They get to make their own rules, there is little govt interference, and therefore can gouge you for as much as they want. BUT they are not allowed to interfere with Educational Material. It's their one rule. Anyone interested in sending more books, contact me for particulars.

Update. It's Sunday afternoon now, and I just got back from dropping Waziri off at St. Alpha's Secondary School. Father Ricardo let him start mid year, without an entrance exam, because I told him the kid was bright. Which he is. Father Ricardo is a priest from Italy and has lived and worked in Tz for twenty years. He runs the school, wears a brown robe and no shoes. He's a little eccentric, but I like hat.

Hauling in the nets

This school is bare bones, Waziri will live with seventy five other guys, do his own laundry, clean the dorm, and have all of ten dollars spending money monthly. But there's a soccer team and kids from this school go to university. He's happy, and he deserves this. But he's a village kid, for sure. I gave him some money when we got to town and told him to get some supplies and meet me in an hour. So he got lost and showed up two hours later.




Students need to provide their own mattresses and linens, among other things, and there's two kinds. One costs $28 USD and the other $56. I asked him what kind he used at home and he just looked at me and I realized he doesn't have one at home. Lots of kids sleep on the floor here, so he's happy with the cheap one. He will be happy to adjust.

fish market

Where I was

Too bad you cant see this bigger, or in person, it eas really nice.

So far, a good likizo. Hope to go to Arusha and Iringa in the coming weeks, see what kind of Chinese food they have.

Nakupenda

I'm not lying when I say R and L are interchangeable. I saw this on 

a commercially printed calendar in Malawi.

A Ten Dollar Cat

Let me say that an African's attitude toward animals is different from ours. They rarely, if ever, name an animal. They also rarely, if ever, feed them. Not that they don't eat, they do, a young boy will lead  the goats or cows out to a grassy area, or down to the river, but they do not bring food to the animals (or buy 50# bags of Purina from the pet food aisle).

Dogs and cats are on their own, they eat what they can find, which is why there's always a pack of salivating dogs circling the fire pit when I burn my garbage. An animal must have a purpose, to give milk, or meat, herd cows or catch mice. There are no pets here, and folks don't spend emotional energy on animals except to mourn the loss of milk or meat if it dies.

Where Socks lived for 2 days

That being said, when I arrived at school two days ago, one of the kids told me kuna paka chooni (there's a cat in the toilet). My first response was to tell the bozo to get him out, but then I realized he meant IN the toilet, as in DOWN the toilet. 


Toilets in most of Africa are pits (truly).  Our school choos are pretty nice, they have doors, and smooth cement floors. There's a hole in the cement, with footprint sized elevations on either side of the hole you can stand on as you squat. The pit is deep and wide, about 10-12 feet down, and the size of a small bathroom, but subterranean.




I could hear a cat, a scared sounding cat, but I couldn't actually see it, because it's dark in the pit and I don't like to spend too much time looking at three years worth of accumulated body waste.

Mosque near my hotel in Dar

Gods name is above, in red.

I figured that some kid had either chased it into the choo, or picked it up and dropped it in. Kids are kids, and sometimes they think dropping a cat down a latrine is fun. Besides, there's not many toys here. In America during the 1950's maybe I could have calIed the fire dept to come get Fluffy or Snowball out of the tree, but this isn't the 50's and we don't have a fire dept, and anyway, nobody cared but me.


I went next door to the pastor's house to ask if I could root through their woodpile for a big branch, thinking I could put it down the hole and the cat could climb up. It wasn't long enough, so I went back to the pastors to borrow some rope. I attached the limb to the rope and sent it down.

Two headed goddess

Wonderful three headed goddess.

So there I was, straddling the hole, waving a branch around the bottom of the choo, trying to lure the cat with a Kiswahili version of Here Kitty Kitty. It occurred to me at this time that of all the dumb stuff Africans have seen me do, this was by far the dumbest. Of course every kid in the neighborhood was watching, speculating, laughing...




Anyway, after about 15 minutes I figured I'd just tie the rope to the door handle and let the limb sway in the pit, maybe the cat would climb up on it's own. I went in to paint and wait for my adult students to arrive. As I was painting and trying to ignore the plaintive cries coming from the choo, I began to wonder why, in a continent with the highest infant mortality rates in the world, I was worried about a cat. I decided that while we all owe a death, even a cat, there's death with dignity and there's death by starvation at the bottom of a latrine while the entire student body pees on your head.




So, having exhausted myself and all my other ideas, I looked in desperation at my newly arrived adult students and told them that I'd give 10,000 tsh to the person who could get the cat out of the pit. Jeska smiled, jumped up, and ran out like she was being chased by a bull. She returned 3 minutes later with Samweli, who assured me he could get the cat.

Went to an Indian Temple in Dar, so lovely.

We needed a flashlight, which Teacher Martha had, but no batteries, so she went to the duka to get a couple and then we discovered that either the batteries didn't work, or her flashlight was broken. In the end, her torch was the problem, so we borrowed the storekeeper's. During all this time, the cat screamed and cried, which only made sense, given his situation.

Also at the temple. Don't know what it means, 

and was reluctant to interrupt praying

people to ask. 

At this point I was curious enough to grab the flashlight and actually look down the choo, something I hope never to repeat. It was really a kitten, a little black kitten with white feet (In America we'd probably call him Socks), sitting in what can only be described as fecal soup, screaming at me.

Local pay toilet/bathing house. The toiler is 200 tsh and to bathe is 300 tsh. 

About 15 and 18 cents, respectively.

These are all over the temple, it's an old Indian symbol

which got corrupted by Adolpf Hitler

Samweli cut down some thin branches, tied them end to end with bark to make a long pole, fashioned a noose out of that same bark, and sent it down the pit.  On the first try, he had him, but the knot slipped. On the second try he pulled him up and out, to the applause of the crowd. This is what happens when there's no library or television.






You should have seen this cat, Samweli had him roped around the neck, he was hissing and spitting, trying to claw whatever was handy. He was twisting and scratching so hard Samweli couldn't get near him to loosen the noose. I was afraid he'd be strangled before he'd be  rescued, so Martha stepped on the limb near his head which flattened him out long enough to free him, and he shot out of the schoolyard like his butt was  on fire. A happy ending. And I don't even like cats, I think they're snide.

I went back in to my adult students and noticed 'The Look,' a particular look Africans give wazungu when they think we're nuts but are too polite to say so. I asked, they reassured me that it was a mitzvah, I'm not a dope, but I could tell they were lying.

It's not always easy explaining wazungu behavior to Africans. But, tribes they understand, as all tribes have their own idiocyncracies, so paying a relative stranger what amounts to half a villagers monthly salary to rescue nobodies cat from a toilet is just one of my tribes peculiarities.

So far I haven't found out who put Socks in the choo, but I put a 500 tsh bounty on his head (about 50 cents). I may have to up it to 1,000 tsh, which is a lot of money for a kid here, so I anticipate some traitorous mtoto (kid) whispering a name in my ear any day now. Ann thinks it's possible there may be a rash of choo cats and noose wielding entrepreneurs in my future, which is possibly very true. I may have to put up some 'Out of Cat Rescuing Business' signs.

And sorry there's no pictures of old Socks emerging from his fecal prison. I didn't have my camera, although I wish I had, and I guess I'm just not ruthless enough to ask anyone, human or otherwise, to sit in a latrine for 20 minutes while I fetch my camera and take advantage of a great photo op.

Update. The little girl with the perforated bowel is doing well, and will probably go home this week. A lot of people worked very hard to keep her alive, it could have very easily gone the other way. Africa is a rough place, but good things happen. Just ask Socks. 


Asante Mungu.

Going to Dar this weekend, to take care of some business and eat as much Chinese food as I can in two days.

Nakupenda