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