There's a lot to learn about life here in Tanzania, and I've been quite busy over the past three weeks, be it teaching, cleaning, or killing cockroaches with a machete. So far here in Songea, however, the most challenging aspect of my life---and, by extension, the one I'm most determined to improve---is cooking. I'll be brutally honest: I have the cooking ability of an epileptic chimp suffering from an aneurysm... prior to my arrival in Africa, the closest thing I had done to proper cooking was chem lab, and I wasn't any good at that, either. Thus, becoming a decent chef has been the overarching theme of my last three weeks at site, and I've definitely had a bunch of thrills---and spills---along the way. So, without further ado, I present for your viewing pleasure "Three Weeks of Cooking with Paul in Tanzania---the Cookbook."
Paul's World-Famous Failburgers
Buy a kilo of meat. Realize the butcher gave you a crappy cut, and hack off 3/4 kilo of bone, gristle, and connective tissue. Run remaining meat through a meat grinder. Have meat grinder jam. Take apart meat grinder and remove more connective tissue. Reassemble meat grinder and try again. Have about 1/2 burger's worth of meat come out. Take remaining jammed meat and cut into tiny pieces. Break an egg over the pile of meat, accidentally getting bits of shell into the patty. Decide you're too hungry to care and fry the patty in a pan using too much oil. Have patty disintegrate the second you place it in the pan. Consume sullenly over a piece of bread.
N.Y. Strip Steak with Sauteed Onions, Green Beans, and Mashed Potatoes
Spend all day picking up the necessary ingredients. Get really excited for the feast you have planned. Come home. Have the power go out. Realize that the only stoves you have in your house are electric. Also realize that, while you own a kerosene lantern, you don't have any matches. Eat bananas alone in the dark.
Two-Day-Old N.Y. Strip Steak with Sauteed Onions, Green Beans, and Mashed Potatoes
Wait 36 hours for the power to come back on. Excitedly tear open the newspaper wrapping your raw meat. Sadly realize that the meat is now completely spoiled/full of maggots. Give meat to a hungry dog. Die a little inside.
Garlic Hash Browns... with a Kick!
Chop garlic, chop potatoes, chop hot pepper. Put too much oil in the pan. Don't think it's a big deal, and dump everything in. Have one drop of scalding hot oil splash out of the pan and land right between your eyes. Look like you have a bindi for the next three weeks. Also realize that, despite all odds, hash browns are actually delicious.
The Almighty Calorie Pile
Don't eat anything all day. Miss the last daladala into town. Return home and take everything remotely consumable in your kitchen (meat, eggs, potatoes, rice, spinach, tomatoes, onions, garlic, hot peppers, bananas, last night's leftovers, etc.), chop into fine pieces, and dump into a giant pot. Add some water for good measure. Cook the **** out of everything for 1.5+ hours. Pour resulting grayish mixture over rice. Serve.
Toast
Can't mess up toast! Oh wait, yes you can. Turn heat all the way up and put bread on a pan. Forget you're cooking toast and go out and work in the garden for 30 minutes. Be alarmed when you see black smoke issuing from your kitchen window. Come back inside to realize that you've almost burned your house down.
Make-Believe Grilled Cheese
Take two pieces of bread. Fry in a pan with a little bit of oil. Put one piece of bread on top of the other. Pretend you have cheese. Savor.
In all honesty, my cooking has, in fact, come along somewhat, and my meals are slowly becoming more palatable as I gain more experience. It's a growing process, I guess, and I have a whole two years to perfect my art. Now, if you'll excuse me, all this talk is making me hungry. I think I'll buy some more bananas in case my power goes out again.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
And Now, a Moment of Reflection
So, I've been at site for two weeks. I'm firmly out of training: I'm spending most of my time now teaching, drawing up lesson plans, exercising, and thinking about my next meal. I'm by no means an expert on Tanzania---I'm still about as green as they come---but these past two weeks have given me some perspective regarding life as a Peace Corps volunteer. In that spirit, I'd like to share a minor revelation I've had during my service thus far:
Despite my relentlessly cheery attitude in most of my blog posts, service hasn't been all smiles and sunshine. During the first week of CBT (cultural-based training in Morogoro), I felt surprisingly isolated and homesick, even though I had only been in country for two weeks. I was with a host family, for sure, but I still felt alone, separated from my family and friends back home. I even felt isolated from my fellow trainees, who seemed incredibly distant in their neighboring villages... none of us had cellphones and there was effectively a communication blackout until our first big meeting the following weekend. As time passed, however, these perceived distances began to shorten, and eventually I began to realize that my friends in Peace Corps weren't that far away---hell, we were practically next-door neighbors. I didn't realize until the second week, for example, that a whole other group of trainees was literally located across the street from my host school. As a result, by the end of training, we all were pretty much reunited in my mind: we could navigate the town, go to market together, or just hang out if we felt like it. The last week in Dar was especially fun... we essentially got to relive the awesome first week we had in country, only this time we all already knew each other. Plus, there was Thanksgiving dinner, which kicked ass.
For lack of a better analogy, it's kind of like your first time swimming as a little kid. You go through all sorts of preparation beforehand---you put on your floaties, you take one last whiz, and you take a few, cleansing breaths. But, no matter what you do, when you walk up to the edge of that pool and stick your toe in the water, you're terrified: the pool is huge, and the water is deep and full of the unknown. This situation is made considerably worse when your father finally gets fed up with your cowardice and pushes you in, at which point your oh-my-God-what-the-hell-am-I-doing-here reflex kicks in and you desperately flail around in a panicked attempt at survival. After clawing your way to the surface a few times, though, you finally begin to get the hang of it, and, suddenly, the pool doesn't seem so big anymore. You begin to notice small comforts, like a passing pool noodle, a warm pocket, or the fact that your feet can touch the bottom (and, like an idiot, you totally didn't realize this until just now). Most importantly, you begin to realize that there are other kids in the pool who are enjoying themselves, and if you can join whatever game they're playing, then maybe---just maybe---life won't be so bad after all.
That's kind of how I feel about the current situation here in Songea. This time, however, it's as if I've been forcibly extracted from the kiddie pool of training (which, in and of itself, was not easy to get used to) and unceremoniously dumped into real life volunteerdom. I really shouldn't complain: my house is quite nice by Peace Corps standards, and I'm only a 15-minute daladala ride from civilization (of course, I sometimes have to wait an hour for this daladala, but whatever). Still, the first few days alone at site were really kind of tough... not knowing where anything was in town, getting called mzungu by pretty much everyone (even my own headmaster), and having to completely furnish my house from scratch---none of these elements of PCV life was particularly glamorous or enjoyable. I've spent countless hours wandering the seemingly endless streets and alleys of Songea, armed with only my backpack and a cheat-sheet of translated words for things I need to, well, live. These past two weeks have effectively been my "clawing to the surface" period, replete with self-doubt, insecurity, and, in some isolated instances, moments of sheer panic.
But now, after two weeks at site, I feel as if I've come to a turn of sorts... I'm finding the proverbial pool noodle amidst the waves of uncertainty. I can teach. I can clean. I can cook (kind of). I have worldly possessions (like my awesome new meat grinder). If I need a new pot, I know where to get one. If I need more avocados, I know a guy. And if I want to get out of the house, I know where the best view is. I'm beginning to experience the small comforts of life as a volunteer, and, slowly but surely, the swimming pool is getting smaller. It's only a matter of time before I start jumping off the high dive.
Granted, getting to this point won't be easy. I still have a lot to learn and a lot to experience before I truly feel comfortable in my surroundings. The process, however, has begun. All the other kids in the pool seem to be having a good time... I guess it would be rude of me not to join the fun.
And now, to go home and get back to work. Those giant winged termites aren't going to exterminate themselves.
Despite my relentlessly cheery attitude in most of my blog posts, service hasn't been all smiles and sunshine. During the first week of CBT (cultural-based training in Morogoro), I felt surprisingly isolated and homesick, even though I had only been in country for two weeks. I was with a host family, for sure, but I still felt alone, separated from my family and friends back home. I even felt isolated from my fellow trainees, who seemed incredibly distant in their neighboring villages... none of us had cellphones and there was effectively a communication blackout until our first big meeting the following weekend. As time passed, however, these perceived distances began to shorten, and eventually I began to realize that my friends in Peace Corps weren't that far away---hell, we were practically next-door neighbors. I didn't realize until the second week, for example, that a whole other group of trainees was literally located across the street from my host school. As a result, by the end of training, we all were pretty much reunited in my mind: we could navigate the town, go to market together, or just hang out if we felt like it. The last week in Dar was especially fun... we essentially got to relive the awesome first week we had in country, only this time we all already knew each other. Plus, there was Thanksgiving dinner, which kicked ass.
For lack of a better analogy, it's kind of like your first time swimming as a little kid. You go through all sorts of preparation beforehand---you put on your floaties, you take one last whiz, and you take a few, cleansing breaths. But, no matter what you do, when you walk up to the edge of that pool and stick your toe in the water, you're terrified: the pool is huge, and the water is deep and full of the unknown. This situation is made considerably worse when your father finally gets fed up with your cowardice and pushes you in, at which point your oh-my-God-what-the-hell-am-I-doing-here reflex kicks in and you desperately flail around in a panicked attempt at survival. After clawing your way to the surface a few times, though, you finally begin to get the hang of it, and, suddenly, the pool doesn't seem so big anymore. You begin to notice small comforts, like a passing pool noodle, a warm pocket, or the fact that your feet can touch the bottom (and, like an idiot, you totally didn't realize this until just now). Most importantly, you begin to realize that there are other kids in the pool who are enjoying themselves, and if you can join whatever game they're playing, then maybe---just maybe---life won't be so bad after all.
That's kind of how I feel about the current situation here in Songea. This time, however, it's as if I've been forcibly extracted from the kiddie pool of training (which, in and of itself, was not easy to get used to) and unceremoniously dumped into real life volunteerdom. I really shouldn't complain: my house is quite nice by Peace Corps standards, and I'm only a 15-minute daladala ride from civilization (of course, I sometimes have to wait an hour for this daladala, but whatever). Still, the first few days alone at site were really kind of tough... not knowing where anything was in town, getting called mzungu by pretty much everyone (even my own headmaster), and having to completely furnish my house from scratch---none of these elements of PCV life was particularly glamorous or enjoyable. I've spent countless hours wandering the seemingly endless streets and alleys of Songea, armed with only my backpack and a cheat-sheet of translated words for things I need to, well, live. These past two weeks have effectively been my "clawing to the surface" period, replete with self-doubt, insecurity, and, in some isolated instances, moments of sheer panic.
But now, after two weeks at site, I feel as if I've come to a turn of sorts... I'm finding the proverbial pool noodle amidst the waves of uncertainty. I can teach. I can clean. I can cook (kind of). I have worldly possessions (like my awesome new meat grinder). If I need a new pot, I know where to get one. If I need more avocados, I know a guy. And if I want to get out of the house, I know where the best view is. I'm beginning to experience the small comforts of life as a volunteer, and, slowly but surely, the swimming pool is getting smaller. It's only a matter of time before I start jumping off the high dive.
Granted, getting to this point won't be easy. I still have a lot to learn and a lot to experience before I truly feel comfortable in my surroundings. The process, however, has begun. All the other kids in the pool seem to be having a good time... I guess it would be rude of me not to join the fun.
And now, to go home and get back to work. Those giant winged termites aren't going to exterminate themselves.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Mustaches, Celebrity Status, and the End of Summer Camp
Hey, folks! It's been a little while since the last post, and A LOT has gone down in the meantime. Luckily, now that I'm here in Songea, I've progressed from the incredibly structured life of the Peace Corps Trainee to the incredibly unstructured life of the Peace Corps Volunteer, which means I have a little more time to organize my thoughts. With that, here's a disjointed highlight reel of the past two weeks of my life:
1) Swearing in was a blast. A few weeks prior to the event, all the PCT males got together and formed a pact to grow the most hideous mustaches possible for the event (heretofore known as the almighty "Swear-In 'Staches"). The result was about 15 guys dressed in their most formal African-style clothing at an official US Embassy event, sporting the most ATROCIOUS mustaches imaginable. For the more facial hair-challenged (like me), this resulted in a pretty ugly crust-stache/Fu Manchu look. However, there were some real winners in the bunch: collectively, we rocked the "Tennessee Highway," the "Hulk Hogan," the "Dog the Bounty Hunter," the "Lightning-Sideburns," the "Muttonstache," the "70's Porn Star," the "Mario," and, of course, the "Ned Flanders," to name a few. The pictures are hilarious... I think they're going to post one on the official PC website, and if it's the one I think it is, it's a doozy. Here's hoping this tradition continues with the next trainee class.
2) As for the actual swearing in, things went pretty smoothly. My speech for our class, while nerve-wracking (I was giving it at a formal US Embassy event in front of ~100 people... completely in Kiswahili), went by without too many hiccups, and afterward people said it was pretty good. I was also recruited to play the Tanzanian and American national anthems on my concertina on stage, as well as a Kiswahili rendition of "Little Help from My Friends" for our class, and I didn't mess up---too much---on any of those numbers. One thing of note: during the proceedings, there were a few ITV (the Tanzanian version of CNN) guys with cameras, but I didn't think too much of them at the time. As I learned from our Country Director the following day, those guys apparently broadcast the majority of my speech/musical performance nationwide that evening. This has been both completely awesome and completely embarrassing. On the one hand, holy crap, I was just on the most-watched news network in the country speaking Kiswahili for ~10 minutes---a fact that has catapulted me to quasi-celebrity status (I've already had a bunch of people in Dar, on the bus to Songea, and in Songea recognize me). On the other hand, holy crap, this is so embarrassing: I look pretty stupid in my pre-pubescent crust-stache playing the concertina, I totally botched a few parts of all three songs, and my entire speech was filled with so-called "American Sarcasm"---squat toilet references, tongue-in-cheek criticisms of Tanzanian chicken-slaughtering practices, and numerous zings at Kenya. Well, I guess if my speech was good enough to be quoted in Majira (a national Tanzanian newspaper), I didn't offend too many people. In any case, I'm looking into getting a copy of the footage, so stay tuned.
3) Songea is great. It's a nice little town, pretty out of the way as far as the tourist circuit is concerned, but accessible enough that Dar is (in theory) a one-day trip. I'm a big fan of my house: it's big, it has electricity, and it has running water. Of course, the electricity and running water aren't on all the time, but who's complaining? The people here are also fantastic, and all of the Songea crew threw a big Thanksgiving bash to welcome my classmate Veronica and me to site, which was definitely a lot of fun. In all, things are looking up: good house, good site, good friends... hopefully this should be a fun two years.
4) If I must complain about one thing at site, though, it's the arthropod invasion that occurs at my house every night. In Morogoro, I was in a never-ending, losing battle against the dust in the area... here in Songea, I'm locked in a never-ending, losing struggle for supremacy with the local insect population. My house has the unfortunate combination of large windows and bright, incandescent lighting, meaning that every night I have to erect a zombie apocalypse-style barrier against the hordes of cockroaches, june bugs, mosquitoes, ants, spiders, and other creepy-crawlies that try to get in. It's eerie sometimes... once the sun goes down, I rush inside, draw my curtains, and simply listen to the soft pitter-patter of bugs smacking into my windows for most of the night. Of course, no defense is perfect, and there have been a few breaches in my homemade defense system. The first few days at site were spent murdering dozens of two-inch long cockroaches, followed by fending off a flanking movement of mosquitoes coming in through a hole in my bathroom. While I've mostly managed to stymie these two incursions, my house has recently been completely overrun with ants: a leaked ~3mL puddle of palm oil was apparently enough to summon a freaking legion of ants ACROSS the entirety of my house... I don't think I've ever seen---or killed---so many living things in my life. And I don't think this war is over, either.
5) Living alone at site has reminded me of how pitifully uneducated I am when it comes to food preparation. I've mostly been putting off cooking for myself as long as possible, eating cold samosas or simply going hungry. However, due partly to boredom and partly to shame, I've started making forays into the market to try cooking for myself. My first food run in town yesterday yielded a kilo of beef (note to self: a kilo is WAY too much), three unknown spices, some overpriced vegetables, and a whole bunch of flour (whether it's corn or wheat, I don't know). The idea was to make Chinese peppersteak per the instructions listed in the Peace Corps Cookbook, but I altered pretty much everything... I'm pretty sure, for example, that Chinese food doesn't have that much cumin in it. I can say this much: whatever I cooked last night has beef, onion, and green pepper in it... just like real Chinese peppersteak, only without the deliciousness. I'm also pretty sure I'm going to get heart failure from all the oil I've been using, or parasites from all the raw meat I've been handling. Such is life, I guess.
Okay, this post is long enough. I'm starting teaching next week, and I have to stop procrastinating. The secondmaster says that my first class is going to have ~200 kids, so this'll definitely be interesting. Wish me luck!
1) Swearing in was a blast. A few weeks prior to the event, all the PCT males got together and formed a pact to grow the most hideous mustaches possible for the event (heretofore known as the almighty "Swear-In 'Staches"). The result was about 15 guys dressed in their most formal African-style clothing at an official US Embassy event, sporting the most ATROCIOUS mustaches imaginable. For the more facial hair-challenged (like me), this resulted in a pretty ugly crust-stache/Fu Manchu look. However, there were some real winners in the bunch: collectively, we rocked the "Tennessee Highway," the "Hulk Hogan," the "Dog the Bounty Hunter," the "Lightning-Sideburns," the "Muttonstache," the "70's Porn Star," the "Mario," and, of course, the "Ned Flanders," to name a few. The pictures are hilarious... I think they're going to post one on the official PC website, and if it's the one I think it is, it's a doozy. Here's hoping this tradition continues with the next trainee class.
2) As for the actual swearing in, things went pretty smoothly. My speech for our class, while nerve-wracking (I was giving it at a formal US Embassy event in front of ~100 people... completely in Kiswahili), went by without too many hiccups, and afterward people said it was pretty good. I was also recruited to play the Tanzanian and American national anthems on my concertina on stage, as well as a Kiswahili rendition of "Little Help from My Friends" for our class, and I didn't mess up---too much---on any of those numbers. One thing of note: during the proceedings, there were a few ITV (the Tanzanian version of CNN) guys with cameras, but I didn't think too much of them at the time. As I learned from our Country Director the following day, those guys apparently broadcast the majority of my speech/musical performance nationwide that evening. This has been both completely awesome and completely embarrassing. On the one hand, holy crap, I was just on the most-watched news network in the country speaking Kiswahili for ~10 minutes---a fact that has catapulted me to quasi-celebrity status (I've already had a bunch of people in Dar, on the bus to Songea, and in Songea recognize me). On the other hand, holy crap, this is so embarrassing: I look pretty stupid in my pre-pubescent crust-stache playing the concertina, I totally botched a few parts of all three songs, and my entire speech was filled with so-called "American Sarcasm"---squat toilet references, tongue-in-cheek criticisms of Tanzanian chicken-slaughtering practices, and numerous zings at Kenya. Well, I guess if my speech was good enough to be quoted in Majira (a national Tanzanian newspaper), I didn't offend too many people. In any case, I'm looking into getting a copy of the footage, so stay tuned.
3) Songea is great. It's a nice little town, pretty out of the way as far as the tourist circuit is concerned, but accessible enough that Dar is (in theory) a one-day trip. I'm a big fan of my house: it's big, it has electricity, and it has running water. Of course, the electricity and running water aren't on all the time, but who's complaining? The people here are also fantastic, and all of the Songea crew threw a big Thanksgiving bash to welcome my classmate Veronica and me to site, which was definitely a lot of fun. In all, things are looking up: good house, good site, good friends... hopefully this should be a fun two years.
4) If I must complain about one thing at site, though, it's the arthropod invasion that occurs at my house every night. In Morogoro, I was in a never-ending, losing battle against the dust in the area... here in Songea, I'm locked in a never-ending, losing struggle for supremacy with the local insect population. My house has the unfortunate combination of large windows and bright, incandescent lighting, meaning that every night I have to erect a zombie apocalypse-style barrier against the hordes of cockroaches, june bugs, mosquitoes, ants, spiders, and other creepy-crawlies that try to get in. It's eerie sometimes... once the sun goes down, I rush inside, draw my curtains, and simply listen to the soft pitter-patter of bugs smacking into my windows for most of the night. Of course, no defense is perfect, and there have been a few breaches in my homemade defense system. The first few days at site were spent murdering dozens of two-inch long cockroaches, followed by fending off a flanking movement of mosquitoes coming in through a hole in my bathroom. While I've mostly managed to stymie these two incursions, my house has recently been completely overrun with ants: a leaked ~3mL puddle of palm oil was apparently enough to summon a freaking legion of ants ACROSS the entirety of my house... I don't think I've ever seen---or killed---so many living things in my life. And I don't think this war is over, either.
5) Living alone at site has reminded me of how pitifully uneducated I am when it comes to food preparation. I've mostly been putting off cooking for myself as long as possible, eating cold samosas or simply going hungry. However, due partly to boredom and partly to shame, I've started making forays into the market to try cooking for myself. My first food run in town yesterday yielded a kilo of beef (note to self: a kilo is WAY too much), three unknown spices, some overpriced vegetables, and a whole bunch of flour (whether it's corn or wheat, I don't know). The idea was to make Chinese peppersteak per the instructions listed in the Peace Corps Cookbook, but I altered pretty much everything... I'm pretty sure, for example, that Chinese food doesn't have that much cumin in it. I can say this much: whatever I cooked last night has beef, onion, and green pepper in it... just like real Chinese peppersteak, only without the deliciousness. I'm also pretty sure I'm going to get heart failure from all the oil I've been using, or parasites from all the raw meat I've been handling. Such is life, I guess.
Okay, this post is long enough. I'm starting teaching next week, and I have to stop procrastinating. The secondmaster says that my first class is going to have ~200 kids, so this'll definitely be interesting. Wish me luck!
Thursday, November 18, 2010
The Peace Corps Training Chronicles, Part 4: Train Free or Die Hard
Last week of training. It's hard to believe that I've been here for eight weeks. It definitely doesn't seem like it's been that long. This Sunday we'll be traveling back to Dar for a few days to swear in, and next Thursday we'll be heading out to our respective sites (which means that my Thanksgiving Day will be spent on a bus... which kind of sucks). Interestingly, I was chosen to be the official speech-giver for the swear-in ceremony, which means I have to deliever a 5-10 minute speech in Kiswahili in front of the U.S. Ambassador. It's a bit intimidating.
In any case, shadow was awesome. I ended up shadowing a PCV in Tukuyu town in Mbeya region, and the whole week was essentially summer camp in Africa. I'm an idiot and didn't bring my camera, so unfortunately I don't have any pictures to upload (not that I really can at the moment, anyways). Regardless, it was a really fun experience, and I can at least endeavor to describe it somewhat in this entry. So yeah, some highlights from the trip/general notes about my experience:
1) Mbeya is f-ing beautiful. The whole Tukuyu area consists of lush, verdant highlands, with rolling hills eventually giving way to the Livingstone Mountains and Lake Malawi. The weather is cool and wet, with temperatures usually hovering around 70 degrees Farenheit and getting cooler at night. Essentially, think Scotland, only with more banana trees and chai plantations. Okay, so maybe don't think of Scotland, but Mbeya is still pretty. On Thursday, we joined up with another shadow group based in Mbeya town and hiked into Ngozi Crater, which is a massive crater lake with some really breathtaking sights. In actuality, hanging out at the lake's edge was not nearly as cool as the hike itself: the slope of the crater is steep enough that you can essentially slide on your butt all the way down (a fun if painful method). Plus, at the bottom we had cookies, which was nice.
2) On Friday, November 12th, 2010, I had a burger. A real burger, with beef, cheese, and guacamole. It was INCREDIBLE. I was in love. Immediately after eating it, I strongly considered blowing another day's salary on a second one. Maybe eight weeks of rice and beans has thoroughly messed with my head, but it was the best meal I've had in a while.
3) Apparently, Lady Gaga has just hit Africa. It's kind of funny to see everyone's reaction to her here: half of Tanzania assumes that she is a devil worshipper, while the other half has succumbed to her unique brand of irresistible pop dance music. It was even funnier to see what happened in the bar in Mbeya when they started playing her music: there's nothing like seeing 15-20 Tanzanian men (women don't get out much) on the dance floor doing the Electric Slide to "Bad Romance." And, of course, I was right out there with them... I mean, I have to integrate into the culture, don't I?
4) I've come to the conclusion that, if I die in Africa, it will be in a fiery car crash. Seriously, taking the bus for Morogoro to Mbeya is a pretty harrowing experience. The main "highway" between the two cities is a skinny one-lane-each-way road that winds through some fairly narrow mountain passes with no guard rails. It doesn't help that buses typically go about 80mph and pass each other on blind turns constantly. I've found that the best method for dealing with the constant fear of death usually to sit in the back of the bus and try to sleep... that way, at least you're outside the killzone, and even if you do die, at least you won't know.
5) Both in Mbeya and here in Morogoro, I am under constant pressure to convert to Christianity, even though I was technically born Christian. There is no better conversation starter in Tanzania than saying that you don't belong to a religion or that you don't believe in God, since everyone will pretty much pounce on the opportunity to convert you to their faith. I am by no means saying that all Christians here are bad. Quite the opposite: my host family is heavily Christian, and they're totally awesome and respect my beliefs. My host family, however, is also quite social, and, as such, they have a lot of their less-open-minded devout Christian friends over for dinner, etc. I can't tell you how many times I have been questioned about my faith here in Tanzania, and most of these folks are not subtle---or particularly nice---when I try to explain my beliefs (or lack thereof). I know it's all well-intentioned, but I swear if I hear another condescending lecture on the evils of beer or how I'm a "mpumbavu" ("fool" or "idiot") for not going to church, I might do something drastic.
Alright, that's enough for now. Later!
In any case, shadow was awesome. I ended up shadowing a PCV in Tukuyu town in Mbeya region, and the whole week was essentially summer camp in Africa. I'm an idiot and didn't bring my camera, so unfortunately I don't have any pictures to upload (not that I really can at the moment, anyways). Regardless, it was a really fun experience, and I can at least endeavor to describe it somewhat in this entry. So yeah, some highlights from the trip/general notes about my experience:
1) Mbeya is f-ing beautiful. The whole Tukuyu area consists of lush, verdant highlands, with rolling hills eventually giving way to the Livingstone Mountains and Lake Malawi. The weather is cool and wet, with temperatures usually hovering around 70 degrees Farenheit and getting cooler at night. Essentially, think Scotland, only with more banana trees and chai plantations. Okay, so maybe don't think of Scotland, but Mbeya is still pretty. On Thursday, we joined up with another shadow group based in Mbeya town and hiked into Ngozi Crater, which is a massive crater lake with some really breathtaking sights. In actuality, hanging out at the lake's edge was not nearly as cool as the hike itself: the slope of the crater is steep enough that you can essentially slide on your butt all the way down (a fun if painful method). Plus, at the bottom we had cookies, which was nice.
2) On Friday, November 12th, 2010, I had a burger. A real burger, with beef, cheese, and guacamole. It was INCREDIBLE. I was in love. Immediately after eating it, I strongly considered blowing another day's salary on a second one. Maybe eight weeks of rice and beans has thoroughly messed with my head, but it was the best meal I've had in a while.
3) Apparently, Lady Gaga has just hit Africa. It's kind of funny to see everyone's reaction to her here: half of Tanzania assumes that she is a devil worshipper, while the other half has succumbed to her unique brand of irresistible pop dance music. It was even funnier to see what happened in the bar in Mbeya when they started playing her music: there's nothing like seeing 15-20 Tanzanian men (women don't get out much) on the dance floor doing the Electric Slide to "Bad Romance." And, of course, I was right out there with them... I mean, I have to integrate into the culture, don't I?
4) I've come to the conclusion that, if I die in Africa, it will be in a fiery car crash. Seriously, taking the bus for Morogoro to Mbeya is a pretty harrowing experience. The main "highway" between the two cities is a skinny one-lane-each-way road that winds through some fairly narrow mountain passes with no guard rails. It doesn't help that buses typically go about 80mph and pass each other on blind turns constantly. I've found that the best method for dealing with the constant fear of death usually to sit in the back of the bus and try to sleep... that way, at least you're outside the killzone, and even if you do die, at least you won't know.
5) Both in Mbeya and here in Morogoro, I am under constant pressure to convert to Christianity, even though I was technically born Christian. There is no better conversation starter in Tanzania than saying that you don't belong to a religion or that you don't believe in God, since everyone will pretty much pounce on the opportunity to convert you to their faith. I am by no means saying that all Christians here are bad. Quite the opposite: my host family is heavily Christian, and they're totally awesome and respect my beliefs. My host family, however, is also quite social, and, as such, they have a lot of their less-open-minded devout Christian friends over for dinner, etc. I can't tell you how many times I have been questioned about my faith here in Tanzania, and most of these folks are not subtle---or particularly nice---when I try to explain my beliefs (or lack thereof). I know it's all well-intentioned, but I swear if I hear another condescending lecture on the evils of beer or how I'm a "mpumbavu" ("fool" or "idiot") for not going to church, I might do something drastic.
Alright, that's enough for now. Later!
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Onward to Shadow... and Site Announcements!
Big news! Today we finally learned where we're going to be living for the next two years. On top of that, we're all departing Morogoro tomorrow for Shadow (i.e. the time during training when we live for another volunteer for a week to see if we can survive on our own in the wilderness). So, for those of you who are following along, break out your oversized maps of Tanzania, invisible ink pens, and secret decoder rings and get ready...
For shadow, I'll be traveling to Tukuyu in the Mbeya region. A 12-hour bus ride on a decent road.
For site, I'll be living in Songea in the Ruvuma region. A 15-hour bus ride on a not-so-decent road.
Both these assignments are pretty damn cool, especially my site. Songea is supposed to be gorgeous: it's high elevation, cool, and fairly green. Moreover, it's somewhat off the beaten path given its relative inaccessibility, making it less prone to the crime and touristy nature of some other Tanzanian cities. There are a bunch of other volunteers there, too, so I won't be so isolated. And, to top it off, I'll be close to Lake Nyasa, which is pretty freaking awesome in and of itself.
As for my job, I'll be teaching A-level physics and math... which is EXACTLY what I wanted. A-level is essentially college-level material, meaning that I can finally define force as the product of mass and acceleration as opposed to simply a "pulling or pushing action" and all that other O-level B.S. I'm really excited to be responsible for a group of kids, and I hope to God I'll be a good enough teacher to get them through the exams. To get into specifics, I'll be teaching at Songea Secondary School, an all-boys boarding school that covers both O-level and A-level students, and it's huge---847 students. It's a bit intimidating, especially since I'll be the only A-level physics/math teacher there. That's a big responsibility. But whatever, we'll see how tough things are when I get there.
As for housing, I don't really know. The only thing the headmaster put on my form is that I "will have a house," which is not really helpful. I've heard from PCVs that I'll probably have at least electricity (or at least a place to charge my stuff), so that's nice. If I had to put money on it, I'll probably live in a two- or three-room concrete house on campus, which will be good if I can get to work more easily and bad if student riot breaks out (which sometimes happens here). As a bonus, I've recently learned that there's a German mission in Songea that specializes in salami and cheese. SCORE.
That's about it for now. Hopefully next time I'll have some cool stories from Shadow in Mbeya!
For shadow, I'll be traveling to Tukuyu in the Mbeya region. A 12-hour bus ride on a decent road.
For site, I'll be living in Songea in the Ruvuma region. A 15-hour bus ride on a not-so-decent road.
Both these assignments are pretty damn cool, especially my site. Songea is supposed to be gorgeous: it's high elevation, cool, and fairly green. Moreover, it's somewhat off the beaten path given its relative inaccessibility, making it less prone to the crime and touristy nature of some other Tanzanian cities. There are a bunch of other volunteers there, too, so I won't be so isolated. And, to top it off, I'll be close to Lake Nyasa, which is pretty freaking awesome in and of itself.
As for my job, I'll be teaching A-level physics and math... which is EXACTLY what I wanted. A-level is essentially college-level material, meaning that I can finally define force as the product of mass and acceleration as opposed to simply a "pulling or pushing action" and all that other O-level B.S. I'm really excited to be responsible for a group of kids, and I hope to God I'll be a good enough teacher to get them through the exams. To get into specifics, I'll be teaching at Songea Secondary School, an all-boys boarding school that covers both O-level and A-level students, and it's huge---847 students. It's a bit intimidating, especially since I'll be the only A-level physics/math teacher there. That's a big responsibility. But whatever, we'll see how tough things are when I get there.
As for housing, I don't really know. The only thing the headmaster put on my form is that I "will have a house," which is not really helpful. I've heard from PCVs that I'll probably have at least electricity (or at least a place to charge my stuff), so that's nice. If I had to put money on it, I'll probably live in a two- or three-room concrete house on campus, which will be good if I can get to work more easily and bad if student riot breaks out (which sometimes happens here). As a bonus, I've recently learned that there's a German mission in Songea that specializes in salami and cheese. SCORE.
That's about it for now. Hopefully next time I'll have some cool stories from Shadow in Mbeya!
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
The Peace Corps Training Chronicles: Part 3
So... another update. A couple things have happened since I last wrote: there was a cool trip up Mt. Morogoro on the 17th, followed by an awesome safari in Mikumi National Park this weekend. It's not really worth describing these trips without pictures, so I'll try to upload some whenever I have time.
In any case, life has kind of settled in training. Teaching, while originally a bit daunting, has slowly become easier, and I have gradually started incorporating my Kiswahili into the lessons to ensure that the kids get it. Cheese, while originally the holy grail of food, has slowly become more accessible as I figure out ways to procure it. Dagaa (sardines), while originally intolerable, well... still are kind of gross, but they aren't as bad as they used to be.
Regardless, here are a few tidbits about my life in Tanzania at the moment:
1) Apparently, I drink an ungodly amount of water. I go through about one 10-gallon ndoo (bucket) every few days, which means that I usually have to spend a full night boiling water whenever I want to fill it up again. This is a tremendous pain in the ass, since I have to spend hours hunting around for scrapwood to fuel the fire, not to mention hours boiling enough to last me for a little while). Moreover, the water filter doesn't really get everything out... what this means is that I've effectively been drinking mud for the past few weeks. Sterile mud, but mud nonetheless.
2) I feel as if we're in a never-ending, losing struggle against the relentless vumbi (dust) in the area. There are no windows in the house---only screens---and the wind here blows constantly, meaning that nearly everything I own (not to mention me) is covered in a thin layer of rust-colored dust 24/7. In other words, I am filthy: I wake up filthy, teach class filthy, hang out with friends filthy, and go to sleep filthy. Whenever I mop my room, it remains clean for about 45 minutes before more dust blows in. Whenever I wash my clothes, they get dirty again almost immediately when I hang them out to dry. Bucket baths, while an efficient use of water, are laughably inadequate to clean all the dirt off my body. I don't know, but there's something so beautifully ironic about cleaning a dirty room with dirty water, or picking out dead spiders in the water you shower with (or later boil into drinking water). There's really not much I can do about this... I guess the solution is simply to alter my perception of "clean."
3) Every time I enter or exit my house, I have to pass through a gauntlet of barking, snarling dogs. Tanzanians tend to mistreat dogs, either by locking them in a tiny shed all day or beating them whenever they're around. Interestingly, Tanzanians are also deathly afraid of dogs, meaning that many of the better-off families keep them around as guard dogs to deter thieves. My family is pretty well-to-do---their house is in a walled compound---so every day they let loose the eight or so dogs they own to prowl the premesis to ward off criminals. Unfortunately for me, the dogs DO NOT like me, and I've had some pretty narrow escapes whenever the pack has found me, be it by vaulting over the gate or sneaking out an opening in the back part of the wall when they aren't looking. I've recently found that screaming obsceneties at them in Kiswahili while wildly waving my backpack around kind of works, although doing this every morning is getting a bit tedious.
4) If I've learned one thing this week, it's that cheese that doesn't need to be refrigerated is not to be trusted.
5) Occasionally speaking in Kiswahili during class will do wonders for teaching here. I'm currently teaching pressure in solids to Form 1 students, and I've been trying for a week-and-a-half to drive home the point that a large area means small pressure. Just yesterday, I finally got fed up and shouted, "AREA KUBWA, PRESSURE KIDOGO." Instantly, everyone laughed, and---more importantly---understood the concept... I can see now that it's really the language barrier that's holding these kids back, not the material. In either case, it was awesome to have a connection with the kids, and they're really starting to grow on me. I really have to do better at memorizing their names.
Anyways, life is good here... this is really starting to get kind of fun. I know there are going to be lows here as well, but for now, I'm really enjoying myself. Can't wait till I find out my placement next week!
In any case, life has kind of settled in training. Teaching, while originally a bit daunting, has slowly become easier, and I have gradually started incorporating my Kiswahili into the lessons to ensure that the kids get it. Cheese, while originally the holy grail of food, has slowly become more accessible as I figure out ways to procure it. Dagaa (sardines), while originally intolerable, well... still are kind of gross, but they aren't as bad as they used to be.
Regardless, here are a few tidbits about my life in Tanzania at the moment:
1) Apparently, I drink an ungodly amount of water. I go through about one 10-gallon ndoo (bucket) every few days, which means that I usually have to spend a full night boiling water whenever I want to fill it up again. This is a tremendous pain in the ass, since I have to spend hours hunting around for scrapwood to fuel the fire, not to mention hours boiling enough to last me for a little while). Moreover, the water filter doesn't really get everything out... what this means is that I've effectively been drinking mud for the past few weeks. Sterile mud, but mud nonetheless.
2) I feel as if we're in a never-ending, losing struggle against the relentless vumbi (dust) in the area. There are no windows in the house---only screens---and the wind here blows constantly, meaning that nearly everything I own (not to mention me) is covered in a thin layer of rust-colored dust 24/7. In other words, I am filthy: I wake up filthy, teach class filthy, hang out with friends filthy, and go to sleep filthy. Whenever I mop my room, it remains clean for about 45 minutes before more dust blows in. Whenever I wash my clothes, they get dirty again almost immediately when I hang them out to dry. Bucket baths, while an efficient use of water, are laughably inadequate to clean all the dirt off my body. I don't know, but there's something so beautifully ironic about cleaning a dirty room with dirty water, or picking out dead spiders in the water you shower with (or later boil into drinking water). There's really not much I can do about this... I guess the solution is simply to alter my perception of "clean."
3) Every time I enter or exit my house, I have to pass through a gauntlet of barking, snarling dogs. Tanzanians tend to mistreat dogs, either by locking them in a tiny shed all day or beating them whenever they're around. Interestingly, Tanzanians are also deathly afraid of dogs, meaning that many of the better-off families keep them around as guard dogs to deter thieves. My family is pretty well-to-do---their house is in a walled compound---so every day they let loose the eight or so dogs they own to prowl the premesis to ward off criminals. Unfortunately for me, the dogs DO NOT like me, and I've had some pretty narrow escapes whenever the pack has found me, be it by vaulting over the gate or sneaking out an opening in the back part of the wall when they aren't looking. I've recently found that screaming obsceneties at them in Kiswahili while wildly waving my backpack around kind of works, although doing this every morning is getting a bit tedious.
4) If I've learned one thing this week, it's that cheese that doesn't need to be refrigerated is not to be trusted.
5) Occasionally speaking in Kiswahili during class will do wonders for teaching here. I'm currently teaching pressure in solids to Form 1 students, and I've been trying for a week-and-a-half to drive home the point that a large area means small pressure. Just yesterday, I finally got fed up and shouted, "AREA KUBWA, PRESSURE KIDOGO." Instantly, everyone laughed, and---more importantly---understood the concept... I can see now that it's really the language barrier that's holding these kids back, not the material. In either case, it was awesome to have a connection with the kids, and they're really starting to grow on me. I really have to do better at memorizing their names.
Anyways, life is good here... this is really starting to get kind of fun. I know there are going to be lows here as well, but for now, I'm really enjoying myself. Can't wait till I find out my placement next week!
Saturday, October 16, 2010
The Peace Corps Training Chronicles: Part 2
So, it's the end of week two of homestay, and things have definitely changed up a bit. As far as training is concerned, the focus has shifted somewhat from learning Kiswahili to learning how to teach effectively: for the last week, we've been sitting in on real classes as well as "microteaching" (i.e. holding mock classes for our respective fields in front of our fellow trainees). These sessions are a bit of an eye-opener... I have a lot to learn before I can become an effective teacher here in Tanzania, and I'm definitely terrified that they're going to start putting me in classrooms with real kids on Monday.
And yet, over the past couple of weeks, I've really begun to see why we're here. The Tanzanian education system is drastically different than the American one, and, while it's not bad by African standards, it could really use some work. The core of the problem is that there are simply not enough teachers. There are plenty of schools and willing students, but there is pretty much no one to teach them. The typical Tanzanian classroom has something like 60 students at the "O"-level, and about 100 at the "A"-level, and it can be pretty hard to control dozens of teenagers in a tiny classroom, much less ensure that they all pass their examinations at the end of the year. This is, of course, assuming that the teachers show up: most teachers in Tanzania are transient by nature, working at schools that need them the most and never staying in one place for an extended period of time. As a result, it's common for teachers to just up and leave in the middle the semester, leaving their students---and the prospect of passing their examinations---to the fates. The secondary school next to mine, for example, currently has about 400 kids and only one teacher. And he's the headmaster. And he shows up late every day. So, at least for the past couple of weeks, the school has essentially been a bunch of students in full uniform just milling around all day.
This is all exacerbated by a fairly cumbersome education system overall. Most students are solely concerned with passing the national examinations held at the end of each term: failing these examinations essentially means that you drop out of school, while passing them means that you progress to the next level. Most students accomplish this via rote memorization of the material... critical thinking pretty much doesn't exist in the Tanzanian school system, and most students answer questions correctly on the national examinations simply because they remember the exact same problem somewhere in their studies. It doesn't help that, at the secondary school level, all classes are supposed to be taught in English, and all standardized testing is in English as well (for most of these students, English is their third language after local dialect and Kiswahili). Therefore, your typical Tanzanian student has to not only learn whichever subject he or she is taking, but also English, all the while trying to pass the national exams so that they can stay in school.
In any case, how I'm doing: actually, not too much has changed in the past week. Not having electricity or running water isn't too bad (my family actually has a generator that powers the house every now and again), and I'm slowly becoming a better cook (I participated in my first chicken slaughtering today). I'm pretty sure one of these days I'm going to go out one night and strangle the roosters in my compound, which insist on crowing at about 3:30 in the morning every day.
I will say one thing, though: I'm sick of the food. This has literally been my diet for the past three weeks, WITHOUT EXCEPTION:
Starch (choose two): Rice, ugali, potatoes, noodles.
Meat (choose one): Stewed beef, stewed chicken, sardines.
Vegetable (choose one): Spinach, cabbage, "chinesi" (a slightly different kind of cabbage).
Fruit (choose one): Bananas, oranges.
Spices (choose one): Salt, garlic.
Drink (choose one): Water, tea, soda (maybe).
Seriously, make any combination of the above, and that's been my breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the past 24 days. It's not bad by any means, but it gets old, fast. I hear we get a bit more freedom when we move out to site, but for now, I miss cheese. Bad. Oh well, I guess I'll get used to it in time.
Okay, that's about it for now. Later!
And yet, over the past couple of weeks, I've really begun to see why we're here. The Tanzanian education system is drastically different than the American one, and, while it's not bad by African standards, it could really use some work. The core of the problem is that there are simply not enough teachers. There are plenty of schools and willing students, but there is pretty much no one to teach them. The typical Tanzanian classroom has something like 60 students at the "O"-level, and about 100 at the "A"-level, and it can be pretty hard to control dozens of teenagers in a tiny classroom, much less ensure that they all pass their examinations at the end of the year. This is, of course, assuming that the teachers show up: most teachers in Tanzania are transient by nature, working at schools that need them the most and never staying in one place for an extended period of time. As a result, it's common for teachers to just up and leave in the middle the semester, leaving their students---and the prospect of passing their examinations---to the fates. The secondary school next to mine, for example, currently has about 400 kids and only one teacher. And he's the headmaster. And he shows up late every day. So, at least for the past couple of weeks, the school has essentially been a bunch of students in full uniform just milling around all day.
This is all exacerbated by a fairly cumbersome education system overall. Most students are solely concerned with passing the national examinations held at the end of each term: failing these examinations essentially means that you drop out of school, while passing them means that you progress to the next level. Most students accomplish this via rote memorization of the material... critical thinking pretty much doesn't exist in the Tanzanian school system, and most students answer questions correctly on the national examinations simply because they remember the exact same problem somewhere in their studies. It doesn't help that, at the secondary school level, all classes are supposed to be taught in English, and all standardized testing is in English as well (for most of these students, English is their third language after local dialect and Kiswahili). Therefore, your typical Tanzanian student has to not only learn whichever subject he or she is taking, but also English, all the while trying to pass the national exams so that they can stay in school.
In any case, how I'm doing: actually, not too much has changed in the past week. Not having electricity or running water isn't too bad (my family actually has a generator that powers the house every now and again), and I'm slowly becoming a better cook (I participated in my first chicken slaughtering today). I'm pretty sure one of these days I'm going to go out one night and strangle the roosters in my compound, which insist on crowing at about 3:30 in the morning every day.
I will say one thing, though: I'm sick of the food. This has literally been my diet for the past three weeks, WITHOUT EXCEPTION:
Starch (choose two): Rice, ugali, potatoes, noodles.
Meat (choose one): Stewed beef, stewed chicken, sardines.
Vegetable (choose one): Spinach, cabbage, "chinesi" (a slightly different kind of cabbage).
Fruit (choose one): Bananas, oranges.
Spices (choose one): Salt, garlic.
Drink (choose one): Water, tea, soda (maybe).
Seriously, make any combination of the above, and that's been my breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the past 24 days. It's not bad by any means, but it gets old, fast. I hear we get a bit more freedom when we move out to site, but for now, I miss cheese. Bad. Oh well, I guess I'll get used to it in time.
Okay, that's about it for now. Later!
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