Pole Pole

Pole pole is Swahili for “slowly”, and it is the theme of our African lives. We use the phrase often to implore our new peers to slow down when they talk, when we explain that we are learning the language (just very slowly), and when we are asked if we are getting information about any sort of plans for anything (what we’re doing in the morning, what we’re doing in the evening, what we’re doing for 8 months in Hanga.
…Speaking of which, pole pole we made our way to Hanga. That’s right, we’re here, at our actual monastery of residence and service! Literally one week after our arrival in Dar, we set off for Hanga. Br. Patrick (principle of Hanga’s trade school, good English speaker, great sense of humor) was our driver, and our volunteering pointman Br. Cassian joined as well. In Dar we picked up a husband and wife duo of retired educators from Australia, and boy are they great!
I’ll get right to my big confession- I was so worried about taking care of my wonderful brand new camera (courtesy of my wonderful Cooper gang o’ friends) that I made sure to keep it packed in very safe places (aka not my pocket where it sometimes should have been. That’s right, I didn’t get a picture of Kipepeo Beach, giraffes (just for you, Joe), elephants, antelopes, baboons, lions, or the most beautiful first sunset of Hanga I’ve ever seen. For those of you reading closely, the reason I didn’t get a picture of lions is because we have yet to see one (the rest of the things we really did see). Don’t worry though, I intend to steal the Kipepeo pictures from Alex (volunteer in Mvimwa) and Roger and Julie (our Aussie buddies) got great shots of the animals and gorgeous landscape on our way to Hanga.
The trip was a two-dayer because we drove instead of taking that wonderful bus I told a lot of you about. In other words, thanks in large part to our ability to tag along with Roger and Julie, we got pretty pampered. We stayed in a nice hotel in Iringa, and Mike and I woke up early the next morning to attempt a supposed 1km hike to some gorgeous peak whose name sounded a lot like Gagliardi. We got to the top of some rocks (definitely not the peak we read about) and saw a phenomenal sunrsise over the mountains and the town. When we saw the animals in the National Park, I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t want the monks to think I was all touristy, but I also was awestruck. I think that combination ended up with a lot of me saying intelligent things like, “Oo, look” as I pointed to baboons or giraffes. Anyway, it was a long, hot ride, and it involved some of that famous slowness- They were doing construction at night, which apparently means the only allow one direction of traffic to flow for random periods of time, so we had a couple instances of just chilling on the side of the road, waiting for it to be our turn. At one of these stops we got out of the van and looked at the huge blanket of stars above us, and it was pretty amazing. Of course they let us go soon after we got out, and I got to attempt to dive back into the back corner of the van over luggage so we could get in on the mad dash of cars and trucks excited to be moving again.
Anyway, pole pole we did make it to Hanga. There’s no great way to sum up my first two Hannga days without coming back to the fact that I need to learn/am quickly learning that things simply will happen pole pole. We spent the first day touring the schools (the monastery runs a primary school, a secondary school, a seminary, and a trade school). As much as I love playing the baritone ukulele for large groups of kindergarteners, I’m thinking I won’t be working at the primary school (after all, I lent out my uke for the time I’m gone). As much as I consider myself a nearly professional brick layer, plumber, electrician, and tailor, I don’t know that my Swahili is good enough to teach at the trade school (those students really struggle the most with their English). Thus, I am thinking/hoping to work as much as I can with the secondary and seminary schools. It’s very confusing (not the confusing where I can’t explain it well via blog, but the confusing where I just plain old don’t get it), but apparently the different schools are either on holiday or preparing for national exams or something, so we didn’t really see the schools in action. Also, we haven’t gotten to discuss what we will concretely be teaching because…well because it just hasn’t happened (pole pole it is).
It’s dry season and the monastery runs almost solely on hydroelectric power, so they just turned the power off for the night, so I’ll have to be done soon (computer battery will only last so long). Before I head to bed, I’ll try to give a little overview of what I’ve been able to gather about how I will live:
Hands: J I will be asked about my two-toned hands often. It’s so great because the little kids just love touching them, and the older nuns just seem very worried for me. A seminarian who speaks good English has promised to tell kids I’m a scientist so that I can tell them it’s from an acid spill (just kidding, doing that once was enough…). Seriously though, they seem to understand my feeble attempt at a mini science lesson about melanin, and they love it when I simplify it as “God just chose to paint me creatively”. Amadeus (the aforementioned seminarian, who introduced himself as Amadeus Amadeus so I would remember that he is like the song) cut me off during my explanation and asked, “Have you accepted it?” I smiled and explained that I don’t just accept it but also embrace it. He smiled back and explained that here, the important thing is making sure people accept things that come their way.
Food: I heard that every meal was going to be rice and some form of meat to go on top. On the flight over, I noticed that a kid’s chicken wings looked really good, so I opted for the chicken when they asked what I wanted for dinner. Apparently I had seen the kids’ meal, as I received a plate of, you guessed it, chicken and rice. My next plane meal also involved rice. I have, indeed, eaten rice at almost every meal (even breakfasts now) since I left home. However, roommates and family out there will be happy/shocked to hear that I’m eating more vegetables than ever before! I have boiled spinach twice a day, and any other green and orange things I can get my hands on. A German volunteer mentioned that Americans tend to mix all foods together, and I looked down at my plate and realized that I do exactly that for every meal. The craziest part of it all is that I still really like it. There is a little variety, and the bananas must be growing at some ridiculous exponential rate, because we get them for every meal and then some! The guestmaster literally pretended to want to shake my hand in order to slip a banana to me to make me take it to my room for later!
The Prayer: It’s in Swahili…but I’ve learned the Sign of the Cross. We’ve been going to 6:40am Mass, 12:40 noon prayer, and 8:40 compline, and a lot of the monks really seem to appreciate it as both being prayful and a great attempt to learn Swahili.
The Room: Photos to come soon. I just decorated today, and I definitely had to get creative. There’s a bed complete with mosquito net (important note: mosquito net + flashlight= way cooler shadow designs than even my fancy hands could make). There’s also a desk and chair. I have a bathroom that is about 3 ft wide and 10 ft long. It starts with a sink, then has a shower, and then a toilet. The shower is, in other words, just a showerhead in the middle of this bathroom. I learned this morning that I need to put the toilet seat cover down in order to keep the seat from getting soaked, and I can’t shower too long or the water will run into the rest of my room. I know it sounds like I’m complaining, but I actually love the ridiculousness of it. I am, however, still waiting for the clothes-washing bucket I was so excited about…pole pole
Overall, I was really missing home yesterday, but today was a great reminder of how wonderful this experience can be. I’ve met some great monks and some really great volunteers from Austria, Italy, Germany, and Oregon who’ve given a lot of great pointers and fellowship. This evening we played basketball and volleyball at the seminary fields with the students. The backboards are wooden, and the rims are about the size of the ball. One of the rims has broken off, so it is propped up but a large tree branch (what up Trash Art!). The volleyball court is a patch of thin red sand (looks like many of the village roads (picture a reddish baseball infield with small patches of grass) and no net. Everyone had a ton of fun, and it was SO GREAT to get to know some students and get some exercise. To top it off, the fields are near an opening at the top of a hill, so we watched the sun set over the mountains in the distance with the clearest of views as we played. I felt a little like the Sandlot kids during 4th of July fireworks as I got lost in watching the sky instead of playing. Here’s to us all figuring out what we’re supposed to be doing with our lives…pole pole.