What better way to celebrate our three month Tanziversary and Thanksgiving (and my "silver blog") than with a blog title written in what I can only assume is poor Kiswahili. By my understanding, “kutoa asante” literally means “to give thanks”. My apologies if for some reason it actually means something else. Anyway, I had my first real “blogger’s block” when trying to think of what to write about for this blog. Don’t get me wrong, I am more and more aware each day just how much I have to be thankful for. I guess I just wanted to write something so great that people would say, “Hey. He has all that time to think of there, and those are such interesting thoughts, we should share them with the family at Thanksgiving.” That’s not the point though, so here’s what you’re going to get: First, a brief explanation of my Tanzanian Thanksgiving to be (I’m writing this on Turkey-Day morning). Second, if you want, you can read about a couple of specific things I am thankful for. Sure it’s cliché, but reflecting on thankfulness is the closest thing I’ll be having to a normal Thanksgiving.I started my Thanksgiving by sleeping in until 7:30! There have been a ton of early mornings in a row trying to use the internet while we have power to work on the fundraiser, and I wanted to be able to be thankful for sleep. After breakfast I went and used my less-than-mediocre Swahili skills to explain to the tailor that my pants didn’t fit, and he just seemed to think it was funny and said they’d be ready tomorrow! Later this morning I’ll be watering the garden for Sr. Claudia This turned into shoveling compost into bags for a monk. There were holes in the bottom of the bags we shoveled into, but don’t worry, we tied them up with banana leaves. Trash Art!) This is taking the place of us cooking a big Thanksgiving dinner. You see, the kitchen is in charge of cooking for the entire monastic compound, and when we try to make our own small meal for a few people, sometimes it seems like an extra burden. They’re definitely fine with it, but they have seemed a little stressed lately, and Mike and I judged that it’d be best not to add to that, so instead of cooking for us, we’re helping with what they want (thus, watering the garden). We did, however, see a giant turkey on our way back from soccer with little kids in a nearby village yesterday! We weren’t sure if we were being taunted or if it was symbolic…I’m choosing the latter.After lunch will just be random work time (laundry, Spirituality section, catch up on journaling and reading). We’ve actually been pretty busy grading exams, and we’re kind of taking today easy in order to celebrate being done (the grading was quite the messy adventure…Let me just say I’m more and more thankful for the American education system, flaws and all). Anyway, this evening will be sports. We’ve been playing Tanzania vs. America in basketball, and today is an especially important day to represent our country! And yes, it is usually 8 vs. 2, and yes, Mike and I do tend to dominate. U! S! A!... Anyway, after dinner and prayer comes one of the most exciting parts. We’re combining a couple of recent packages and putting some nice Dove chocolate on some wonderful home baked cookies! I might even splurge for some mango juice!...Now, for my cliché but necessary thankfulness:1. I am so incredibly thankful for the fact that things happen “against the odds”. One of the wisest men I ever knew said, “The odds are always against the really important things.” What are the odds, he pointed out, that each of our parents would have come together at exactly the moments they did in order to make the crazy-small genetics and chemistry and biology come together in the way they did to create us exactly as we are. Of course, Br. Dietrich said this much more eloquently, but you get the idea. What are the odds that a kid who thought going to college an hour away from home was too far would live in Africa for a while? If you ask this guy, I’d tell you they are about as low as possible. However, I am so thankful for everything that God has called me to recently, and, even with the struggles, I can’t imagine anything else. I’m specifically thankful for the fact that I have still never been in a place that I wasn’t happy to be (all my schools, jobs, and now this volunteer experience). Every little thing that has happened to me and that I have done in my life could have gone a million different ways, but I am thankful that they have gone the way they have. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I am a pretty darn big fan of my past and present, and I'm pretty gosh darn pumped about the future. God is good! All the time!
My second big clump of thankfulness is for all of you. Sure I'm thankful that you take the time to read my blog, but, more importantly I want to let you know that "I appreciate the role you play in my life" (see Nick Hansen). Seriously though, I cannot dream of a more phenomenal set of people to be surrounded by (physically when I'm home, as well as emotionally and through prayer). Thank you to all of you! If you have a bite of turkey in my honor, that'd be great. Just know that I will eat at least one grain of rice for each of you! God bless and Happy Thanksgiving!
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
I Can Feel the Rain Down in Africa!
That’s right, last night we had our first legitimate rainfall! As I may have mentioned, the rainy season is said to bring mangoes, more hydro-power, cooler weather, a colorful landscape, “creepy-crawlies”, and malaria! What a combo!
Also, since yesterday was the last Sunday in Ordinary time and next Sunday we will be beginning our holiday travels, I have officially begun my weeklong marathon of NSYNC and 98 Degrees Christmas music!
Even though I haven’t taught since exam season began, I have stayed fairly busy. Currently I am working on 2 fairly large projects. I have to grade my class’ 69 exams, each with 25 questions. The fun part about that is the fact that the district-created and district-distributed answer key isn’t necessarily fully correct or clear. Let’s just say it’s been a tedious adventure so far….
Also, I am frantically and frustratingly trying to work with limited and slow internet to put together a Christmas fundraiser for the trade school. It is called “The Christmas Brick Project”, and you’ll hear plenty more about it if it actually comes to fruition. (Don’t worry, writing this blog is not wasting said precious internet time, as I am writing it on my internetless computer).
Also, Mike and I made a bold move last week…we went to the VTC tailor shop to get fitted for pants and shirts…without translators. It seemed like it went smoothly, and we definitely made it clear that we each wanted pants and a shirt. Sidenote: When I pointed to the fabric I liked for pants, the woman said, “Trousers??” I affirmed that I knew what I was doing. It turns out it was the least expensive material possible, and I think she expected me to go for something a little more high-end. Apparently I’ve become so thrifty that I do it on accident. The pants and shirt ended up being about 15 U.S. dollars total (fabric and labor)! How were the finished products? Well, the pants are perfect besides the fact that I recently learned my waist is about the same circumference as a Frisbee. The waist of my pants?...Substantially smaller than the circumference of a Frisbee. Let’s just say I have to do quite the dance to get situated into the pants... The shirt looks pretty sweet, but they added some crazy embroidery that make it only wearable to feasts and celebrations (thus, it’s not the teaching shirt I wanted). It will, however make a great “This is my crazy African shirt” shirt when I return home!
In other random and exciting news, we got word from Peace Corps friend that there were packages for us at the post office. I’ll try to make a long story short: We caught the first Saturday bus into Songea, and we got to the post office at 10:30 (we stopped to see the 3 awesome sisters referenced in the previous blog), and we were still there around 12:30. First they just told us to wait. Then they said the parcel man wasn’t there. Then he came. Then he said the customs man wasn’t there. Then we called the parcel man and convinced him to come in. He eventually let us search for packages and we found 2 for Mike and one for me (thanks Hansen family!). It turns out there were two packages for an American volunteer that had already gone home, so we were supposed to take those too. All of a sudden we were figuring out how to get 5 sizable packages onto an already packed bus back to Hanga. What a great problem to have! We have all the sweets and fiber and rosaries we could ask for! For reference, we’re not sure how long the packages sat there. I received two packages within two weeks of them being sent, but I also know of a package sent over a month ago that’s not here. I did hear of a volunteer who received half of a Christmas tree in November and the other half in June…Oh Tanzanian Postal Service!
The last mini-story occurred when we went to pick up our “tailored” clothes. There were a bunch of village kids throwing rocks at a monkey (apparently not their rafiki), but their attention quickly switched to swarming us (luckily we don’t look too much like monkeys apparently- no mzungus were harmed in the making of this memory). They played the game where they see how many of them can hold our hands at once while we walk. We commenced to exhausting the extent of our Swahili with them and they did the same with their English. Then we went over Spanish, English, Swahili, and Italian numbers (not sure who was teaching who most of the time). It ended with somersaults into the dirt. I think that part was one of those “you had to be there” things, but it felt like their equivalent to playing in the snow!
Also, the other night we visited our Italian friends out in a very remote village nearby, and our reward for finding the place was some delicious Italian pasta and wonderful company! The food was SO GOOD!
Finally, since next blog will be my “Thanksgiving Edition”, I should explain at least briefly the travelling we’ll be doing. This travelling may very well decrease the frequency of my blogs. Don’t worry though, that just means you faithful readers will have one less excuse to distract yourselves from the work you’re supposed to be doing! Plus, I’ll take as many pictures as possible. Anyway, we figure now that we’ve taught for a solid month, we might as well travel for a month (actually, there’s not really work here right now, and it’s the only chance to travel for me, at least). Thus, Mike, Teresa (Austria), and I will head to Dar es Salaam on Sunday. From there we will catch a bus to Nairobi, Kenya to visit Simon, Alex, and Fr. Francis! Then we’ll head to Kampala, Uganda for a while. From there it’s off to Kigali, Rwanda, and then we go back to Nairobi for Christmas. On the way back to Hanga we plan to visit some Seminary students throughout Tanzania. It is important to note that we are, indeed looping around Lake Victoria (in case you’re looking at a map). However, I will refer to it as something different…This trip will be called the “Tour de Frisbee- East Africa”. Let’s just say I’m already in contact with organized Frisbee in Nairobi, Kampala, and Kigali. Game on, Hapana Pipi!
Also, since yesterday was the last Sunday in Ordinary time and next Sunday we will be beginning our holiday travels, I have officially begun my weeklong marathon of NSYNC and 98 Degrees Christmas music!
Even though I haven’t taught since exam season began, I have stayed fairly busy. Currently I am working on 2 fairly large projects. I have to grade my class’ 69 exams, each with 25 questions. The fun part about that is the fact that the district-created and district-distributed answer key isn’t necessarily fully correct or clear. Let’s just say it’s been a tedious adventure so far….
Also, I am frantically and frustratingly trying to work with limited and slow internet to put together a Christmas fundraiser for the trade school. It is called “The Christmas Brick Project”, and you’ll hear plenty more about it if it actually comes to fruition. (Don’t worry, writing this blog is not wasting said precious internet time, as I am writing it on my internetless computer).
Also, Mike and I made a bold move last week…we went to the VTC tailor shop to get fitted for pants and shirts…without translators. It seemed like it went smoothly, and we definitely made it clear that we each wanted pants and a shirt. Sidenote: When I pointed to the fabric I liked for pants, the woman said, “Trousers??” I affirmed that I knew what I was doing. It turns out it was the least expensive material possible, and I think she expected me to go for something a little more high-end. Apparently I’ve become so thrifty that I do it on accident. The pants and shirt ended up being about 15 U.S. dollars total (fabric and labor)! How were the finished products? Well, the pants are perfect besides the fact that I recently learned my waist is about the same circumference as a Frisbee. The waist of my pants?...Substantially smaller than the circumference of a Frisbee. Let’s just say I have to do quite the dance to get situated into the pants... The shirt looks pretty sweet, but they added some crazy embroidery that make it only wearable to feasts and celebrations (thus, it’s not the teaching shirt I wanted). It will, however make a great “This is my crazy African shirt” shirt when I return home!
In other random and exciting news, we got word from Peace Corps friend that there were packages for us at the post office. I’ll try to make a long story short: We caught the first Saturday bus into Songea, and we got to the post office at 10:30 (we stopped to see the 3 awesome sisters referenced in the previous blog), and we were still there around 12:30. First they just told us to wait. Then they said the parcel man wasn’t there. Then he came. Then he said the customs man wasn’t there. Then we called the parcel man and convinced him to come in. He eventually let us search for packages and we found 2 for Mike and one for me (thanks Hansen family!). It turns out there were two packages for an American volunteer that had already gone home, so we were supposed to take those too. All of a sudden we were figuring out how to get 5 sizable packages onto an already packed bus back to Hanga. What a great problem to have! We have all the sweets and fiber and rosaries we could ask for! For reference, we’re not sure how long the packages sat there. I received two packages within two weeks of them being sent, but I also know of a package sent over a month ago that’s not here. I did hear of a volunteer who received half of a Christmas tree in November and the other half in June…Oh Tanzanian Postal Service!
The last mini-story occurred when we went to pick up our “tailored” clothes. There were a bunch of village kids throwing rocks at a monkey (apparently not their rafiki), but their attention quickly switched to swarming us (luckily we don’t look too much like monkeys apparently- no mzungus were harmed in the making of this memory). They played the game where they see how many of them can hold our hands at once while we walk. We commenced to exhausting the extent of our Swahili with them and they did the same with their English. Then we went over Spanish, English, Swahili, and Italian numbers (not sure who was teaching who most of the time). It ended with somersaults into the dirt. I think that part was one of those “you had to be there” things, but it felt like their equivalent to playing in the snow!
Also, the other night we visited our Italian friends out in a very remote village nearby, and our reward for finding the place was some delicious Italian pasta and wonderful company! The food was SO GOOD!
Finally, since next blog will be my “Thanksgiving Edition”, I should explain at least briefly the travelling we’ll be doing. This travelling may very well decrease the frequency of my blogs. Don’t worry though, that just means you faithful readers will have one less excuse to distract yourselves from the work you’re supposed to be doing! Plus, I’ll take as many pictures as possible. Anyway, we figure now that we’ve taught for a solid month, we might as well travel for a month (actually, there’s not really work here right now, and it’s the only chance to travel for me, at least). Thus, Mike, Teresa (Austria), and I will head to Dar es Salaam on Sunday. From there we will catch a bus to Nairobi, Kenya to visit Simon, Alex, and Fr. Francis! Then we’ll head to Kampala, Uganda for a while. From there it’s off to Kigali, Rwanda, and then we go back to Nairobi for Christmas. On the way back to Hanga we plan to visit some Seminary students throughout Tanzania. It is important to note that we are, indeed looping around Lake Victoria (in case you’re looking at a map). However, I will refer to it as something different…This trip will be called the “Tour de Frisbee- East Africa”. Let’s just say I’m already in contact with organized Frisbee in Nairobi, Kampala, and Kigali. Game on, Hapana Pipi!
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Sweating the Small Stuff
I know they say, “Don’t sweat the small stuff”, but they say a lot of stuff, and I’m not even sure who ‘they’ are. Anyway, over the last few days I have been given great reason to sweat the small stuff, because there’s been some pretty safi sana small stuff to sweat (“safi sana” means very good/very clean, and I learned on Facebook earlier this week that it is okay to mix languages for the sake of alliteration).
First, in general, I have been blessed with a handful of opportunities recently to communicate with wonderful family and friends via chance or planned internet connections, and that’s a hugely appreciated bit of small stuff!
Also, this weekend was the VTC (trade school) graduation. There was plenty of great dancing and singing. I know what you’re the thinking. The answer is yes, I did, in fact, help train said dancers! Okay, so really I went to the trade school to use the internet and saw it was busy so I decided to sneak in the back of a classroom and watch student practice their graduation performance. The next thing you know, I’m kicking it (literally, the dancing involved a lot of kicking) with a bunch of the trade schoolers. Also, one of the dances was mildly reminiscent of the A-Town stomp for those familiar.
Anyway, the celebration was great, and it was topped off by a wish of Br. Patrick’s coming true. All week he talked about how he heard people take entire goats, put rice and veggies inside them, and roast them. He didn’t know how to do it or who did it (maybe ‘they’ do it), but he wanted to make it happen. At the end of the night, what comes waltzing in to singing and dancing? Students carrying a wooden contraption with a roasted goat (I refrained from taking pictures because I figured some of my readers wouldn’t really want to see that). Well, it was the most delicious bite of food I have had in this country. Way to go, Br. Patrick! And, on another animal-lovers-should-look-away note, the next morning at the trade school’s “thank you monastery” Mass, they brought in all sorts of gifts- bananas, a rabbit, a baby pig (kitimoto, which literally translated means “hot chair” and made for an interesting misunderstanding earlier in the week), and manure!
Another simple joy we experienced recently- a pleasant chant. Mike and I wandered through the village yesterday, and, as usual, little kids shouted excitedly, calling us mzungu and asking for candy or pictures. Then, something extra cool happened: a couple really literally girls started running after us as they CHANTED WA-ZUN-GU,! WA-ZUN-GU! (wazungu is plural). It was magical.
Also, there were definitely baby monkeys in trees by the trade school the other day! I asked little kids if the monkeys were friends, and they replied affirmatively, "Rafiki yangu". Yep, I got them to call the monkey "rafiki". You're welcome Lion King fans.
The most recently simple pleasure was another big one for me. I just got done with my first hot shower in 2 and a half months! Don’t get me wrong, cold showers have been great most of the time due to the heat here. However, I’m not going to turn down a nice hot shower every couple of months.
Also, yesterday I happened to meet three of the coolest people I’ve met since Fr. Francis! I was just trying to return the library key to the Seminary staff room, and I ended up having an hour long lunch with three nuns from Songea. One is from Ethiopia (one of my favorite countries ever since 4th grade) and two are from India. They run the ‘”de Paul” schools near Songea and offered to be a rest stop and curry supplier every time we bike into Songea, and I fully intend to take them up on that offer. We had a really great talk about education, about Ethiopia, about Tanzania, about India, and about food! Plus, they brought apples and “mango pickle” (really good, spicy mango/chili sauce)!
Also, if I have not informed you, the school year here doesn’t really line up with our school year in America. In other words, now that I’ve taught for a little over a month, it’s time for summer vacation (no class for the next two months). Don’t worry, I actually have other work to do (and some travelling to be detailed soon). However, this does mean I recently had my last class of the year. We spent most of it reviewing for their big exam, and they really brought a lot of energy and responded to questions enthusiastically (not a norm for them). Thus, I had to fulfill my promise. I had to show them how to stand on one finger.
Naturally, I had to ham it up a little extra, so I offered to do it on the teacher desk so all 69 could see. Please note, this desk was not necessarily new and may not have had all legs screwed in fully…Don’t worry, I didn’t break the desk and have to spend my travelling money to replace it (a thought that did cross my mind- they deserved the risk though). I told the students in front they’d have to catch me if I fell, and they backed up…we’re still working on trust. So, I put my finger on the desk and stepped on it. I wish there was a way to make that less anti-climatic via typing, but honestly, that’s all I did. I was worried that this play on English words wouldn’t quite click, but a large portion of them laughed almost instantly, and the rest did when I quickly explained! Some educators may say this is just “Vegas for Vegas’ sake” (see Teach Like a Champion) or that it’s taking away their intrinsic motivation to learn and work hard, but I say it’s my way of showing them how serious I am about wanting them to get into their education and to realize that it can something different than they’ve ever known. Either way, as I left for the final time, the class clapped. Yeah, they clapped! I know it was for the stupid human trick, but part of me wants to think it was also something to the effect of “Hey, we can tell you really tried this term. Hopefully we all meet again next term so we can try even harder together.” Then again, maybe they were just excited that they could go trick the other classes into thinking they could stand on one finger.
First, in general, I have been blessed with a handful of opportunities recently to communicate with wonderful family and friends via chance or planned internet connections, and that’s a hugely appreciated bit of small stuff!
Also, this weekend was the VTC (trade school) graduation. There was plenty of great dancing and singing. I know what you’re the thinking. The answer is yes, I did, in fact, help train said dancers! Okay, so really I went to the trade school to use the internet and saw it was busy so I decided to sneak in the back of a classroom and watch student practice their graduation performance. The next thing you know, I’m kicking it (literally, the dancing involved a lot of kicking) with a bunch of the trade schoolers. Also, one of the dances was mildly reminiscent of the A-Town stomp for those familiar.
Anyway, the celebration was great, and it was topped off by a wish of Br. Patrick’s coming true. All week he talked about how he heard people take entire goats, put rice and veggies inside them, and roast them. He didn’t know how to do it or who did it (maybe ‘they’ do it), but he wanted to make it happen. At the end of the night, what comes waltzing in to singing and dancing? Students carrying a wooden contraption with a roasted goat (I refrained from taking pictures because I figured some of my readers wouldn’t really want to see that). Well, it was the most delicious bite of food I have had in this country. Way to go, Br. Patrick! And, on another animal-lovers-should-look-away note, the next morning at the trade school’s “thank you monastery” Mass, they brought in all sorts of gifts- bananas, a rabbit, a baby pig (kitimoto, which literally translated means “hot chair” and made for an interesting misunderstanding earlier in the week), and manure!
Another simple joy we experienced recently- a pleasant chant. Mike and I wandered through the village yesterday, and, as usual, little kids shouted excitedly, calling us mzungu and asking for candy or pictures. Then, something extra cool happened: a couple really literally girls started running after us as they CHANTED WA-ZUN-GU,! WA-ZUN-GU! (wazungu is plural). It was magical.
Also, there were definitely baby monkeys in trees by the trade school the other day! I asked little kids if the monkeys were friends, and they replied affirmatively, "Rafiki yangu". Yep, I got them to call the monkey "rafiki". You're welcome Lion King fans.
The most recently simple pleasure was another big one for me. I just got done with my first hot shower in 2 and a half months! Don’t get me wrong, cold showers have been great most of the time due to the heat here. However, I’m not going to turn down a nice hot shower every couple of months.
Also, yesterday I happened to meet three of the coolest people I’ve met since Fr. Francis! I was just trying to return the library key to the Seminary staff room, and I ended up having an hour long lunch with three nuns from Songea. One is from Ethiopia (one of my favorite countries ever since 4th grade) and two are from India. They run the ‘”de Paul” schools near Songea and offered to be a rest stop and curry supplier every time we bike into Songea, and I fully intend to take them up on that offer. We had a really great talk about education, about Ethiopia, about Tanzania, about India, and about food! Plus, they brought apples and “mango pickle” (really good, spicy mango/chili sauce)!
Also, if I have not informed you, the school year here doesn’t really line up with our school year in America. In other words, now that I’ve taught for a little over a month, it’s time for summer vacation (no class for the next two months). Don’t worry, I actually have other work to do (and some travelling to be detailed soon). However, this does mean I recently had my last class of the year. We spent most of it reviewing for their big exam, and they really brought a lot of energy and responded to questions enthusiastically (not a norm for them). Thus, I had to fulfill my promise. I had to show them how to stand on one finger.
Naturally, I had to ham it up a little extra, so I offered to do it on the teacher desk so all 69 could see. Please note, this desk was not necessarily new and may not have had all legs screwed in fully…Don’t worry, I didn’t break the desk and have to spend my travelling money to replace it (a thought that did cross my mind- they deserved the risk though). I told the students in front they’d have to catch me if I fell, and they backed up…we’re still working on trust. So, I put my finger on the desk and stepped on it. I wish there was a way to make that less anti-climatic via typing, but honestly, that’s all I did. I was worried that this play on English words wouldn’t quite click, but a large portion of them laughed almost instantly, and the rest did when I quickly explained! Some educators may say this is just “Vegas for Vegas’ sake” (see Teach Like a Champion) or that it’s taking away their intrinsic motivation to learn and work hard, but I say it’s my way of showing them how serious I am about wanting them to get into their education and to realize that it can something different than they’ve ever known. Either way, as I left for the final time, the class clapped. Yeah, they clapped! I know it was for the stupid human trick, but part of me wants to think it was also something to the effect of “Hey, we can tell you really tried this term. Hopefully we all meet again next term so we can try even harder together.” Then again, maybe they were just excited that they could go trick the other classes into thinking they could stand on one finger.
Friday, November 12, 2010
In the Armpit of a Stranger
*Note #1: I meant to type “divide by b” and not “divide by 2” at the end of the proof in the last blog. (Thanks Jer.) However, that’s not the “illegal step” of the proof, it’s just “Aliki’s Daily Mistake”.
*Note #2: The first sentence of this blog only makes sense if you know that I wrote this blog later the same day as the last blog post.
Apparently I jumped the gun a bit on that whole “nothing too out of the ordinary is happening” blog…today I went into Songea for the football (soccer) match between Songea’s own Majimaji (as far as I know this means “waterwater”) and the national favorite Simbas (Simba means lion).
We started our adventure with some fantastic bargain hunting, since we had some time to kill in Songea. I have been in need of some shoes for sports with more ankle support and some dress shoes for teaching so my feet don’t get quite as gross from always wearing sandals. I do not consider bartering something that I enjoy or excel at, but I must say I am pretty proud of my work today. I found the exact type of dress shoes I was hoping for, and I bartered my way down to exactly what I wanted to get them for ($10). Then, wouldn’t you know it, I found a decent pair of Nike basketball shoes (Kobe’s for anyone who cares). Last time we were in Songea, I found a pair of one of my all-time favorite basketball shoes (Reebok Questions for that same group that cares), but they were just a bit too small. This was a huge blessing, because I would have had a very difficult time watching myself turn these works of art into torn-up, reddish pieces of garbage. Today, however, I met my footwear destiny. Sign number 1: The shoes had been customized. What did the previous owner choose to represent, you ask? “MPLS”. Yep, the good old 612 is alive and well here in Tanzania (consider this my “Great American Influence”, in addition to the Minnesota Lynx jersey I saw a guy wearing). Sign number 2: accidental bartering success. I legitimately wasn’t sure if I wanted them, and apparently this came off as me playing some serious hardball with the salesman, because I walked away having paid half of his original asking price! Hizzah!
To point out, this is a magical country in my eyes when it comes to making purchases. I have a special place in my heart for thrift stores, and, as one Br. Nick Kleespie so poignantly pointed out, “Tanzania is like one big thrift store.” It’s great! Things are cheap (partly because of the exchange rate and the fact that most things are used), and there are all sorts of gems- from ridiculous flower printed windbreakers to beautiful pairs of Nike Air Force 1’s. Speaking of which, on one last footwear-related note, there will be future footwear purchases here that put today’s purchases to shame, and I am not talking about Air Force 1’s…
Oh yeah, and then there was the football match. Mike had just purchased a pretty sweet Cameroon jersey, and the moment we walked into the stadium, we realized that was not going to fly. Simba fans and merchandise peddlers flocked to us, and shouted/ blew into their vuvuzelas (yeah, those wonderfully obnoxious horns from the World Cup) until Mike bought a Simba jersey. And then Teresa (volunteer from Austria) had to buy one. Naturally, I had to follow suit. (This made me feel a lot better about the decision I had just made to not buy a sweet Ghana jersey). Once we put the jerseys on, it was pretty sweet to have all of the fans that had already arrived cheering for us, and we even got gestures of thanks from people down on the field who appeared to be Simba staff of some sort. We like to think we saved a minor riot from occurring.
Luckily, we found Br. Pius, Br. Kastor, and a St. B’s teacher right away and sat with them. The stadium is pretty sizable, so it wasn’t full, but there were some pretty dense mobs of people at the entrance when we went in, so the riot police were on high alert. Sitting there waiting for the game to start, it was quite the sight to see the stadium surrounded by beautiful trees and flowers, with gorgeous mountains right behind.
The first half ended with a score of 0-0, which seemed to be somewhat of a surprise (the Simbas were pretty sizable favorites, as they apparently always beat Majimaji). With 15 minutes left in the match, the Simbas finally scored, which was followed quickly by another Simba goal. This was, for the record, the most advanced level of soccer I’ve ever seen live (surpassing the village game I watched earlier this week), and it was pretty awesome. The crowd went mildly nuts afterward, and the numerous riot police did a pretty solid job of making mobs of excited fans run simultaneously to a different part of the stadium to continue celebrating.
The one detail we hadn’t really planned was our return to Hanga. Busses don’t really run after dark, and the game ended around 6:30…We figured that we’d go with the whole Tanzanian idea of “hamna shida” and assume it would work out. Luckily, it did, as Br. Pius came to the rescue and led us to the place where the extra bus specifically because of the match was picking people up. It was a small bus that would probably seat no more than 20 in its already cramped seats. In true Tanzanian style, I would estimate we crammed in closer to 40 people (5 people had some part of their bodies on or above the double seat I was on). Luckily for me, I’ve been working on being comfortable being uncomfortable (more being out of the “comfort zone”, but I got literal practice tonight). Anyway, we all had our own adventures. Mike had to stand for a portion. Teresa got to hold a crying baby with an over-active bladder. I got to hold 3 pairs of shoes (Mike bought one too), while my knees we crunched together and into the metal rod in the seat in front of me by the 3 pairs of legs pressing against my own (I wish I could explain how this was physically possible- all I know is that it happened). All the while my head was planted firmly in or around the vicinity of a stranger’s armpit. How did I pass the time in this unexpected position? I wrote this very blog in my head. So, here’s to you, reader, for giving me something to distract me from a face full of armpit. After many stops and people getting off, the physical position got much better, and all we had left to endure was a bumpier road, a man who refused to believe we didn’t speak Swahili (more likely he enjoyed saying things to us that he didn’t think we’d understand), and a small tiff between passengers.
Honestly, I loved the whole experience, as got to feel the evening breeze on my face (when my armpit friend wasn’t in the way) and really get a piece of what life is like here outside of the monastery. Plus, it reminded me of that wonderful song, “What if God was one of us? Just a stranger on the bus…”. Hmm, I don’t know about that particular bus, but maybe my armpit friend was an angel. That reminds me of a Sarah McLaughlin song…
*Note #2: The first sentence of this blog only makes sense if you know that I wrote this blog later the same day as the last blog post.
Apparently I jumped the gun a bit on that whole “nothing too out of the ordinary is happening” blog…today I went into Songea for the football (soccer) match between Songea’s own Majimaji (as far as I know this means “waterwater”) and the national favorite Simbas (Simba means lion).
We started our adventure with some fantastic bargain hunting, since we had some time to kill in Songea. I have been in need of some shoes for sports with more ankle support and some dress shoes for teaching so my feet don’t get quite as gross from always wearing sandals. I do not consider bartering something that I enjoy or excel at, but I must say I am pretty proud of my work today. I found the exact type of dress shoes I was hoping for, and I bartered my way down to exactly what I wanted to get them for ($10). Then, wouldn’t you know it, I found a decent pair of Nike basketball shoes (Kobe’s for anyone who cares). Last time we were in Songea, I found a pair of one of my all-time favorite basketball shoes (Reebok Questions for that same group that cares), but they were just a bit too small. This was a huge blessing, because I would have had a very difficult time watching myself turn these works of art into torn-up, reddish pieces of garbage. Today, however, I met my footwear destiny. Sign number 1: The shoes had been customized. What did the previous owner choose to represent, you ask? “MPLS”. Yep, the good old 612 is alive and well here in Tanzania (consider this my “Great American Influence”, in addition to the Minnesota Lynx jersey I saw a guy wearing). Sign number 2: accidental bartering success. I legitimately wasn’t sure if I wanted them, and apparently this came off as me playing some serious hardball with the salesman, because I walked away having paid half of his original asking price! Hizzah!
To point out, this is a magical country in my eyes when it comes to making purchases. I have a special place in my heart for thrift stores, and, as one Br. Nick Kleespie so poignantly pointed out, “Tanzania is like one big thrift store.” It’s great! Things are cheap (partly because of the exchange rate and the fact that most things are used), and there are all sorts of gems- from ridiculous flower printed windbreakers to beautiful pairs of Nike Air Force 1’s. Speaking of which, on one last footwear-related note, there will be future footwear purchases here that put today’s purchases to shame, and I am not talking about Air Force 1’s…
Oh yeah, and then there was the football match. Mike had just purchased a pretty sweet Cameroon jersey, and the moment we walked into the stadium, we realized that was not going to fly. Simba fans and merchandise peddlers flocked to us, and shouted/ blew into their vuvuzelas (yeah, those wonderfully obnoxious horns from the World Cup) until Mike bought a Simba jersey. And then Teresa (volunteer from Austria) had to buy one. Naturally, I had to follow suit. (This made me feel a lot better about the decision I had just made to not buy a sweet Ghana jersey). Once we put the jerseys on, it was pretty sweet to have all of the fans that had already arrived cheering for us, and we even got gestures of thanks from people down on the field who appeared to be Simba staff of some sort. We like to think we saved a minor riot from occurring.
Luckily, we found Br. Pius, Br. Kastor, and a St. B’s teacher right away and sat with them. The stadium is pretty sizable, so it wasn’t full, but there were some pretty dense mobs of people at the entrance when we went in, so the riot police were on high alert. Sitting there waiting for the game to start, it was quite the sight to see the stadium surrounded by beautiful trees and flowers, with gorgeous mountains right behind.
The first half ended with a score of 0-0, which seemed to be somewhat of a surprise (the Simbas were pretty sizable favorites, as they apparently always beat Majimaji). With 15 minutes left in the match, the Simbas finally scored, which was followed quickly by another Simba goal. This was, for the record, the most advanced level of soccer I’ve ever seen live (surpassing the village game I watched earlier this week), and it was pretty awesome. The crowd went mildly nuts afterward, and the numerous riot police did a pretty solid job of making mobs of excited fans run simultaneously to a different part of the stadium to continue celebrating.
The one detail we hadn’t really planned was our return to Hanga. Busses don’t really run after dark, and the game ended around 6:30…We figured that we’d go with the whole Tanzanian idea of “hamna shida” and assume it would work out. Luckily, it did, as Br. Pius came to the rescue and led us to the place where the extra bus specifically because of the match was picking people up. It was a small bus that would probably seat no more than 20 in its already cramped seats. In true Tanzanian style, I would estimate we crammed in closer to 40 people (5 people had some part of their bodies on or above the double seat I was on). Luckily for me, I’ve been working on being comfortable being uncomfortable (more being out of the “comfort zone”, but I got literal practice tonight). Anyway, we all had our own adventures. Mike had to stand for a portion. Teresa got to hold a crying baby with an over-active bladder. I got to hold 3 pairs of shoes (Mike bought one too), while my knees we crunched together and into the metal rod in the seat in front of me by the 3 pairs of legs pressing against my own (I wish I could explain how this was physically possible- all I know is that it happened). All the while my head was planted firmly in or around the vicinity of a stranger’s armpit. How did I pass the time in this unexpected position? I wrote this very blog in my head. So, here’s to you, reader, for giving me something to distract me from a face full of armpit. After many stops and people getting off, the physical position got much better, and all we had left to endure was a bumpier road, a man who refused to believe we didn’t speak Swahili (more likely he enjoyed saying things to us that he didn’t think we’d understand), and a small tiff between passengers.
Honestly, I loved the whole experience, as got to feel the evening breeze on my face (when my armpit friend wasn’t in the way) and really get a piece of what life is like here outside of the monastery. Plus, it reminded me of that wonderful song, “What if God was one of us? Just a stranger on the bus…”. Hmm, I don’t know about that particular bus, but maybe my armpit friend was an angel. That reminds me of a Sarah McLaughlin song…
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Buffet Days
This is officially one of those “nothing out of the Tanzanian ordinary has happened recently” blogs, so I apologize in advance for disappointing anyone who is looking for a gripping tale of battling wild animals or saving a life or something. No, this will be another one of those, “if you’re reading this you deserve a small update and some small stories about my thoughts and experiences” kind of blogs.
Again, it is incredibly exciting to me that I have any sort of “business as usual” type of week, because that means that I do, indeed, have a small amount of structure to what I’m doing. Without further ado, here are a couple of basic teaching updates:
The one class I teach at the trade school each week…never met. The list of excuses and excuse givers is actually quite impressive. Once everyone was working in their workshops, once it was Nyerere Day, once people just plain weren’t around, and once they were supposed to have an exam. Br. Patrick assures me that next term I’ll have better luck, and I have no choice but to say “hamna shida” (same as hakuna matata!) and trust that maybe he’s right.
The one class I teach at St. B each week has been a bit of a struggle, because it is supposed to be a review of their last 2 years of math. That’s incredibly needed for about half the class, but the other class is nearly offended at how easy the material is (think of a school deciding that the whole grade, honors students included, should have one day a week of remedial math). Thus, differentiation (making sure all students are challenged to the proper degree) has been a challenge and a half. Recently, I have added “challenge” problems to the board and given students the opportunity to work on whatever they want. The students who need the review ignore the challenge, and the students bored with review do the opposite. It has really fun to see the “brighter” students get excited/frustrated about the challenges. This week I “proved” to them that 2=1. Just for fun, feel free to see if YOU can find my flaw (one of the challenge-choosers named Goodluck recently told me that he still hasn’t figured it out, but he will), so “good luck”:
Let’s say a=b.
Then a^2 = ab
Then a^2 - b^2 = ab- b^2
Then (a-b)(a+b)=b(a-b)
Divide both sides by (a-b) and you get a+b=b.
Since a=b, a+b=2b, so 2b=b.
Divide both sides by 2 and you see that 2=1.
Finally, there is my Seminary class. They are officially one week away from their end of the school year exams. When I picked up the class, they warned me that they were very behind on the material, but we just finished everything in the syllabus and now have a week for review! They seemed to enjoy learning about Frisbee (and begging me to spin in on my finger) as we learned about circumference and area of a circle. I also brought my clothes-washing basket (a plastic 5 gallon utility pail like the ones you could buy at Val’s in St. Cloud for those of you who know what I’m talking about and wanted a mental image). We were talking about the volume of a cylinder, so I naturally told them it was filled with water from my laundry and proceeded to pretend to knock it off of a table toward the class. My acting/lying skills were pretty shaky, but they definitely woke up, and this example gave me a good segue into teaching them about the ancient American sporting tradition of dumping a Gatorade bucket onto a victorious coach (I may have offered to mimic this WHEN they do well on their exams).
Overall, exam season here reminds me of how much testing can hinder actual learning, but it does provide the very tangible challenge of: “help these students pass their most feared test”. We’ll see what happens…
Finally, I should explain my title a little bit. This is where the blog could get mildly journal-y (I say could because I haven’t written the rest yet, so how can I be sure?). Anyway, after the first month of struggling with not really knowing what I’d be doing here, I kind of made a renewed commitment to putting my all into making the most of everything, and, one month later, I guess you could say I renewed this renewal. Wouldn’t you know it, this came about because of a goofy Italian veterinarian. Let’s just say our friend was very happy and ready to leave after his one month stay. This got me thinking about how pumped I will be to go home, and I re-realized there’s no reason not to have that enthusiasm every day, because every day there is important “work” to be done and there are important experiences to be had. I guess you could say I re-realized that God created each day to be a magnificent one, but it’s up to us to choose some combination of the phenomenal options we’ve been presented with to accept each gift of a phenomenal day. Example: I do not have any specific responsibilities on Wednesdays, and sometimes they feel a bit aimless, but this Wednesday, I decided to hit up all the best options of God’s buffet for that day. Mass and prayer were the meat and potatoes, my first attempt at sewing (a hole in my thrift store pants pocket) was the cream cheese wan tans, going for a great run with a wonderful breeze in the mountains was the veggie platter that was surprisingly tasty for how healthy it was, studying Swahili for longer than usual was the rib tips (slow and a lot of work for a little gain, but totally worth it), and general wonderful interactions and greeting exchanges with villagers, monks, and students made up my ice cream. It was a simple and beautiful day, and I fully intend to continue to do my best to accept the best each buffet day has to offer.
Until next time, I’ll keep searching for adventures and wild animals to spice things up, or at least I’ll keep searching for challenging math problems, because we all know they are equally exciting!
Again, it is incredibly exciting to me that I have any sort of “business as usual” type of week, because that means that I do, indeed, have a small amount of structure to what I’m doing. Without further ado, here are a couple of basic teaching updates:
The one class I teach at the trade school each week…never met. The list of excuses and excuse givers is actually quite impressive. Once everyone was working in their workshops, once it was Nyerere Day, once people just plain weren’t around, and once they were supposed to have an exam. Br. Patrick assures me that next term I’ll have better luck, and I have no choice but to say “hamna shida” (same as hakuna matata!) and trust that maybe he’s right.
The one class I teach at St. B each week has been a bit of a struggle, because it is supposed to be a review of their last 2 years of math. That’s incredibly needed for about half the class, but the other class is nearly offended at how easy the material is (think of a school deciding that the whole grade, honors students included, should have one day a week of remedial math). Thus, differentiation (making sure all students are challenged to the proper degree) has been a challenge and a half. Recently, I have added “challenge” problems to the board and given students the opportunity to work on whatever they want. The students who need the review ignore the challenge, and the students bored with review do the opposite. It has really fun to see the “brighter” students get excited/frustrated about the challenges. This week I “proved” to them that 2=1. Just for fun, feel free to see if YOU can find my flaw (one of the challenge-choosers named Goodluck recently told me that he still hasn’t figured it out, but he will), so “good luck”:
Let’s say a=b.
Then a^2 = ab
Then a^2 - b^2 = ab- b^2
Then (a-b)(a+b)=b(a-b)
Divide both sides by (a-b) and you get a+b=b.
Since a=b, a+b=2b, so 2b=b.
Divide both sides by 2 and you see that 2=1.
Finally, there is my Seminary class. They are officially one week away from their end of the school year exams. When I picked up the class, they warned me that they were very behind on the material, but we just finished everything in the syllabus and now have a week for review! They seemed to enjoy learning about Frisbee (and begging me to spin in on my finger) as we learned about circumference and area of a circle. I also brought my clothes-washing basket (a plastic 5 gallon utility pail like the ones you could buy at Val’s in St. Cloud for those of you who know what I’m talking about and wanted a mental image). We were talking about the volume of a cylinder, so I naturally told them it was filled with water from my laundry and proceeded to pretend to knock it off of a table toward the class. My acting/lying skills were pretty shaky, but they definitely woke up, and this example gave me a good segue into teaching them about the ancient American sporting tradition of dumping a Gatorade bucket onto a victorious coach (I may have offered to mimic this WHEN they do well on their exams).
Overall, exam season here reminds me of how much testing can hinder actual learning, but it does provide the very tangible challenge of: “help these students pass their most feared test”. We’ll see what happens…
Finally, I should explain my title a little bit. This is where the blog could get mildly journal-y (I say could because I haven’t written the rest yet, so how can I be sure?). Anyway, after the first month of struggling with not really knowing what I’d be doing here, I kind of made a renewed commitment to putting my all into making the most of everything, and, one month later, I guess you could say I renewed this renewal. Wouldn’t you know it, this came about because of a goofy Italian veterinarian. Let’s just say our friend was very happy and ready to leave after his one month stay. This got me thinking about how pumped I will be to go home, and I re-realized there’s no reason not to have that enthusiasm every day, because every day there is important “work” to be done and there are important experiences to be had. I guess you could say I re-realized that God created each day to be a magnificent one, but it’s up to us to choose some combination of the phenomenal options we’ve been presented with to accept each gift of a phenomenal day. Example: I do not have any specific responsibilities on Wednesdays, and sometimes they feel a bit aimless, but this Wednesday, I decided to hit up all the best options of God’s buffet for that day. Mass and prayer were the meat and potatoes, my first attempt at sewing (a hole in my thrift store pants pocket) was the cream cheese wan tans, going for a great run with a wonderful breeze in the mountains was the veggie platter that was surprisingly tasty for how healthy it was, studying Swahili for longer than usual was the rib tips (slow and a lot of work for a little gain, but totally worth it), and general wonderful interactions and greeting exchanges with villagers, monks, and students made up my ice cream. It was a simple and beautiful day, and I fully intend to continue to do my best to accept the best each buffet day has to offer.
Until next time, I’ll keep searching for adventures and wild animals to spice things up, or at least I’ll keep searching for challenging math problems, because we all know they are equally exciting!
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Sr. Anna, We Hardly Knew Ye
Today marks our two month Tanziversary, and we fully intend to celebrate with some (hopefully) cold mango juice from Hanga Food Land, but it is a bittersweet day. Today also happens to be the day that Sr. Anna, one of my favorite people in this country, must depart from Hanga in order to pursue a degree in nursing. As we found out at her mini-feast last night, this is a pretty big deal, as Sr. Anna will be the first Benedictine from this part of the country to obtain a degree in nursing.
Sr. Anna is about 45, has great English, is a great teacher of Swahili, is very positive and energetic, and will be dearly missed. Not surprisingly, the majority of the content of this blog revolves around what we got to do with her this week. She always claimed to be a member of the “Hapana Pipi” Ultimate team, but she never seemed to make it to our “practices”…finally, on Tuesday, she came! I have some great photos of the time I got to play Frisbee with the coolest nun in Tanzania.
Also, yesterday we got to spend the morning doing laundry in the nuns’ yard (they have way better facilities, and they are great to hang out with. Note to self: thorough clothes-washing in Tanzania requires sunscreen (who knew I could spend a weekend at a beach without getting sunburn and then get a sunburn from doing laundry?). Then we got to sit around and hang out with Sr. Anna and Sr. Claudia (intimidating and loveable cook) as we listened to music. It was wonderful quality time with them, and my pants and shirts finally don’t have their reddish tint from the dirt! I have not, however, gotten my socks back, as Sr. Claudia saw them hanging on the line and deemed that I did not get them clean enough, so she confiscated them and told me I would get them back in mint condition tomorrow…oh boy.
Last night Mike and I spent almost 3 hours in the kitchen helping cook what we thought was a normal going-away dinner for Sr. Anna (it turns out we ended up helping cook our first Tanzanian mini-feast)! The cooking is all done with fire ovens and stoves, so it was toasty to say the least, but it was really fun. We had ventured into the once-monthly soko (market) in the village and purchased some potatoes, tomatoes, and onions to attempt to make crispy potato wedges and tomato sauce, and our addition to the meal actually turned out quite tasty (there wasn’t much left afterward, so we took that as a good sign). We tried to help with other things too, so a lot of tomatoes were peeled, some uncooked rice was sifted through in search of pieces of anything that’s not rice, and a giant ugali pot was thoroughly cleaned by yours truly (I was handed a block of wood to use to scrape off the bits of ugali that were caked onto the sides). It was fantastic!
The feast was small, but there were great people, and there was great food. It ended with a delicious cake made by the other wonderful cook, Sr. Crisillda.
We will miss Sr. Anna dearly, but we know she will go on to help even more people with her further studies, which, as CSB/SJU helped teach me, is, after all, the whole point of studying. My mango juice box will be lifted to you tonight, Sr. Anna. Safari Njema! (safe travels)
Sr. Anna is about 45, has great English, is a great teacher of Swahili, is very positive and energetic, and will be dearly missed. Not surprisingly, the majority of the content of this blog revolves around what we got to do with her this week. She always claimed to be a member of the “Hapana Pipi” Ultimate team, but she never seemed to make it to our “practices”…finally, on Tuesday, she came! I have some great photos of the time I got to play Frisbee with the coolest nun in Tanzania.
Also, yesterday we got to spend the morning doing laundry in the nuns’ yard (they have way better facilities, and they are great to hang out with. Note to self: thorough clothes-washing in Tanzania requires sunscreen (who knew I could spend a weekend at a beach without getting sunburn and then get a sunburn from doing laundry?). Then we got to sit around and hang out with Sr. Anna and Sr. Claudia (intimidating and loveable cook) as we listened to music. It was wonderful quality time with them, and my pants and shirts finally don’t have their reddish tint from the dirt! I have not, however, gotten my socks back, as Sr. Claudia saw them hanging on the line and deemed that I did not get them clean enough, so she confiscated them and told me I would get them back in mint condition tomorrow…oh boy.
Last night Mike and I spent almost 3 hours in the kitchen helping cook what we thought was a normal going-away dinner for Sr. Anna (it turns out we ended up helping cook our first Tanzanian mini-feast)! The cooking is all done with fire ovens and stoves, so it was toasty to say the least, but it was really fun. We had ventured into the once-monthly soko (market) in the village and purchased some potatoes, tomatoes, and onions to attempt to make crispy potato wedges and tomato sauce, and our addition to the meal actually turned out quite tasty (there wasn’t much left afterward, so we took that as a good sign). We tried to help with other things too, so a lot of tomatoes were peeled, some uncooked rice was sifted through in search of pieces of anything that’s not rice, and a giant ugali pot was thoroughly cleaned by yours truly (I was handed a block of wood to use to scrape off the bits of ugali that were caked onto the sides). It was fantastic!
The feast was small, but there were great people, and there was great food. It ended with a delicious cake made by the other wonderful cook, Sr. Crisillda.
We will miss Sr. Anna dearly, but we know she will go on to help even more people with her further studies, which, as CSB/SJU helped teach me, is, after all, the whole point of studying. My mango juice box will be lifted to you tonight, Sr. Anna. Safari Njema! (safe travels)
Monday, October 25, 2010
...Emotion- The Gateway to Something Good
Note: I really wanted to title this one “Pomp and Circumference” because it’s mostly about graduation, and it seemed clever, but it was pretty irrelevant, so I abstained.
The week that past was filled with work! This is not the type of statement that usually warrants an exclamation, but for me it is still a very exciting concept. In addition to classes, there was a lot of work to be done to prepare for graduation this weekend (St. B on Saturday and Seminary on Sunday). Speaking of work- you know how “budget meetings” are the typical symbol for undesirable work responsibilities? Well, I sat through one…for an hour and a half…and it was in Swahili! Awesome.
This weekend was seriously packed, so I’ll get right into it. On Saturday, St. B graduation started with Mass in the Abbey at 9:30. In addition to the swaying, clapping, and loud cheering within the Mass, we also experienced one of the coolest liturgical things I’ve seen. Some graduates grabbed a decorated basket and placed an infant inside. The infant was then handed a Bible. This is how the Bible was processed to the altar! It was just really cool. After Mass we processed through the village behind a brass band all the way to the school. We then saw some student presentations. Finally, we sat at the head table (obligatory for any mzungu) and witnessed about 3 hours of Celebration. There were student songs, dances, and comedies, as well as a handful of speeches. I couldn’t catch much of the speeches, but I’m pretty confident that the general theme was something to the effect of “don’t fegit cha keys” (see St. John’s graduation). Then, it was time for us to eat lunch at the head table of the food room (as with all celebrations, every other guest watches the head table as they eat slightly better food).
Following lunch, Mike, Teresa, and I dipped out early to catch the all important soccer match between Hanga VTC (Trade School) and Songea Boys (think Mighty Ducks vs. Hawks in The Mighty Ducks). VTC clearly had less money and discipline but also a lot more fun and fun to watch. The goalie is our friend Robert, and he is incredibly entertaining (and good). We were up 1-0 in the first half due to a sweet header, but in the last 20 minutes of the second half Songea Boys scored twice on some pretty nice shots, resulting in some great flips and a victory for Songea. It was a blast anyway, and it was actually really powerful to see the emotion displayed. VTC played with such joy and passion, and that turned to such disappointment at the end.
We headed back to St. B at night for the dance, but there were only students and we felt out of place. What did we do? Found a dance in the village of course! We mostly just danced with a bunch of kids, but they started calling all their friends over to laugh and watch as we tried to dance like them and it just got uncomfortable, so we got out of there and hung out with our favorite nun, Sr. Anna.
Sunday was the proverbial top piece of bread on this graduation-soccer-graduation sandwich of a weekend. It started with Mass at the Seminary. The Mass, scheduled for 9:00, started at 10:00. Once Mass was done at 12 we went and rested with the guest speaker. The speaker was really cool, and I got to talk to him a lot about education, the progress of Tanzania, and a little about Africa’s history in general. Then came the real show. I spent all day Friday helping the Seminarians prepare the grounds for graduation (you know, like hand picking the dead leaves off the ground and bringing them to the fire pit), and they really did some great work. They built three large, beautiful huts in less than two days! Of course, I sat at the head hut, which, while always awkward, is also always awesome because you get a great view of the performances. The show lasted 4 hours, and there were some great comedies and songs. Also, a group of students did some sort of mock-traditional African performance that was both impressive and comical. My favorite was the last performance: hip hop dance! 6 guys performed a dance to “Wall to Wall” and “Waka Waka (This is Africa)”. This marked the first time I heard “Waka Waka” in Africa, and let’s just say I was pumped! I really wanted to jump up and teach them the official dance…but we’ll get back to that.
After the performance and dinner, we headed back to the Seminary for the dance (we found out that teachers, especially ones that enjoy hanging out with their students) are more than welcome. Plus, we’ve gotten to know a few Form 4’s pretty well, and we wanted to say a proper goodbye. Unfortunately, we got caught in an impromptu staff meeting on the way (most teachers did not want to hang with the young folk). Everyone had to stand and say something about the school, and some spoke for over 20 minutes. Finally, I heard “Waka Waka” playing at the dance and pretended to get a phone call so I could leave (on second thought, this wasn’t that clever, as most would just answer the phone and talk mid-meeting). Anyway, I talked to a bunch of the Form 4’s, and then I headed in to watch the dance contest. “Waka Waka” came on again, and I had to represent what I learned from “BSP’s Best Dance Crew”, so I did it- I busted out Shakira’s official dance! This was validated when the school’s best dancer came over to learn it from me! (This was a relief as a lot of them were making fun of me because her dance is the girls’ part, and there’s actually an African male dance that goes with the song as well). Throughout the next two hours of the dance I learned a few of their dances, but I also taught/showed off the following: *heel-toe*c-walk*lean wit it rock wit it*the arm wavy thing (fahja molding). This was my attempt at my own “Great American Influence”.
Finally, I should explain the title a bit. It is part of a lyric from a song written by a good friend of mine, and it seemed fitting. I’ve experienced an incredible rollercoaster of emotions in the time I’ve been here (it seems the ZPD is a good place for that). However, I haven’t witnessed a ton of emotions from those around me. It just doesn’t seem to be very blatant in the culture here if that makes sense. However, the graduations and soccer game were packed with emotion. People were jubilant to have gotten through a very difficult part of their educational lives. People were happy for their graduating classmates. People were expressing sadness in their leaving. The soccer team went from joy to disappointment. I was sad to see people like Mozart, Benja, Berno, Edward, Freddy, and Justin go. I even got emotional seeing people going home and thinking about how long it will be until that is me. The moral of the story, however, is that this emotion-filled weekend, was fantastic. Indeed, all the emotions stirred up seemed to form the gateway to something good for all involved.
The week that past was filled with work! This is not the type of statement that usually warrants an exclamation, but for me it is still a very exciting concept. In addition to classes, there was a lot of work to be done to prepare for graduation this weekend (St. B on Saturday and Seminary on Sunday). Speaking of work- you know how “budget meetings” are the typical symbol for undesirable work responsibilities? Well, I sat through one…for an hour and a half…and it was in Swahili! Awesome.
This weekend was seriously packed, so I’ll get right into it. On Saturday, St. B graduation started with Mass in the Abbey at 9:30. In addition to the swaying, clapping, and loud cheering within the Mass, we also experienced one of the coolest liturgical things I’ve seen. Some graduates grabbed a decorated basket and placed an infant inside. The infant was then handed a Bible. This is how the Bible was processed to the altar! It was just really cool. After Mass we processed through the village behind a brass band all the way to the school. We then saw some student presentations. Finally, we sat at the head table (obligatory for any mzungu) and witnessed about 3 hours of Celebration. There were student songs, dances, and comedies, as well as a handful of speeches. I couldn’t catch much of the speeches, but I’m pretty confident that the general theme was something to the effect of “don’t fegit cha keys” (see St. John’s graduation). Then, it was time for us to eat lunch at the head table of the food room (as with all celebrations, every other guest watches the head table as they eat slightly better food).
Following lunch, Mike, Teresa, and I dipped out early to catch the all important soccer match between Hanga VTC (Trade School) and Songea Boys (think Mighty Ducks vs. Hawks in The Mighty Ducks). VTC clearly had less money and discipline but also a lot more fun and fun to watch. The goalie is our friend Robert, and he is incredibly entertaining (and good). We were up 1-0 in the first half due to a sweet header, but in the last 20 minutes of the second half Songea Boys scored twice on some pretty nice shots, resulting in some great flips and a victory for Songea. It was a blast anyway, and it was actually really powerful to see the emotion displayed. VTC played with such joy and passion, and that turned to such disappointment at the end.
We headed back to St. B at night for the dance, but there were only students and we felt out of place. What did we do? Found a dance in the village of course! We mostly just danced with a bunch of kids, but they started calling all their friends over to laugh and watch as we tried to dance like them and it just got uncomfortable, so we got out of there and hung out with our favorite nun, Sr. Anna.
Sunday was the proverbial top piece of bread on this graduation-soccer-graduation sandwich of a weekend. It started with Mass at the Seminary. The Mass, scheduled for 9:00, started at 10:00. Once Mass was done at 12 we went and rested with the guest speaker. The speaker was really cool, and I got to talk to him a lot about education, the progress of Tanzania, and a little about Africa’s history in general. Then came the real show. I spent all day Friday helping the Seminarians prepare the grounds for graduation (you know, like hand picking the dead leaves off the ground and bringing them to the fire pit), and they really did some great work. They built three large, beautiful huts in less than two days! Of course, I sat at the head hut, which, while always awkward, is also always awesome because you get a great view of the performances. The show lasted 4 hours, and there were some great comedies and songs. Also, a group of students did some sort of mock-traditional African performance that was both impressive and comical. My favorite was the last performance: hip hop dance! 6 guys performed a dance to “Wall to Wall” and “Waka Waka (This is Africa)”. This marked the first time I heard “Waka Waka” in Africa, and let’s just say I was pumped! I really wanted to jump up and teach them the official dance…but we’ll get back to that.
After the performance and dinner, we headed back to the Seminary for the dance (we found out that teachers, especially ones that enjoy hanging out with their students) are more than welcome. Plus, we’ve gotten to know a few Form 4’s pretty well, and we wanted to say a proper goodbye. Unfortunately, we got caught in an impromptu staff meeting on the way (most teachers did not want to hang with the young folk). Everyone had to stand and say something about the school, and some spoke for over 20 minutes. Finally, I heard “Waka Waka” playing at the dance and pretended to get a phone call so I could leave (on second thought, this wasn’t that clever, as most would just answer the phone and talk mid-meeting). Anyway, I talked to a bunch of the Form 4’s, and then I headed in to watch the dance contest. “Waka Waka” came on again, and I had to represent what I learned from “BSP’s Best Dance Crew”, so I did it- I busted out Shakira’s official dance! This was validated when the school’s best dancer came over to learn it from me! (This was a relief as a lot of them were making fun of me because her dance is the girls’ part, and there’s actually an African male dance that goes with the song as well). Throughout the next two hours of the dance I learned a few of their dances, but I also taught/showed off the following: *heel-toe*c-walk*lean wit it rock wit it*the arm wavy thing (fahja molding). This was my attempt at my own “Great American Influence”.
Finally, I should explain the title a bit. It is part of a lyric from a song written by a good friend of mine, and it seemed fitting. I’ve experienced an incredible rollercoaster of emotions in the time I’ve been here (it seems the ZPD is a good place for that). However, I haven’t witnessed a ton of emotions from those around me. It just doesn’t seem to be very blatant in the culture here if that makes sense. However, the graduations and soccer game were packed with emotion. People were jubilant to have gotten through a very difficult part of their educational lives. People were happy for their graduating classmates. People were expressing sadness in their leaving. The soccer team went from joy to disappointment. I was sad to see people like Mozart, Benja, Berno, Edward, Freddy, and Justin go. I even got emotional seeing people going home and thinking about how long it will be until that is me. The moral of the story, however, is that this emotion-filled weekend, was fantastic. Indeed, all the emotions stirred up seemed to form the gateway to something good for all involved.
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