- Women really DO carry anything and everything on their heads. We’ve witnessed women carry everything from baskets of fruit to piles of socks and underwear. (Note, the socks and underwear were NOT in baskets.)
- Men carry anything and everything on their bicycles. I once saw a man carry seven or eight trays of bread loaves on the back of his bike. The trays towered at least a foot above his head while he was riding the bike. We’ve also seen men carry huge buckets of water. It’s amazing.
- What cannot be carried on a woman’s head or a man’s bicycle is put into a large wheel barrel. Normally, we see pounds and pounds of potatoes pushed in these carts. Today I witnessed a cart transporting a flock of chickens. A huge basket (about 5’ x 7’ feet) flipped upside down kept the chickens from escaping. I think we’ve now seen it all.
- Speaking of chickens, they can be found anywhere in Tanzania except the chicken coup. In fact, Chickens : Tanzania :: Pigeons : America. I’m no longer startled to see a rooster walk out of someone’s home or store, but if this is what Free Range really looks like, I’m going to continue to not eat chicken even when I get back in the US.
- Cell phones. Second to chickens, they are everywhere. In fact, most people have two, claiming they need two phones in the event one of the networks isn’t working.
- Fires in the middle of the sidewalk… Once I realized we didn’t need to call for help, I thought people were just burning trash. It’s nearly impossible to find a trash can here. Turns out, they are making charcoal. Which is great, because…
- Every day is a BBQ! Cooking corn on the cob on the grill is a special occasion back home. In Tanzania, many women make a decent living grilling corn on the street and then selling it to the locals every day. I guess no one minds that the charcoal flavor comes from yesterday’s trash. I myself can’t bring myself to buy it, although it smells SO GOOD.
- Sweeping. It’s a chore performed by everyone in the morning. I get that people sweep in the US, as well. But here, people sweep dirt from one portion of a dirt road to another portion of a dirt road. What a waste! It looks so painful, too. They use brooms made of twigs that are about a foot long, so they do all this futile sweeping hunched over.
- Honking. In the US, honking is reserved for situations in which a driver needs to be “alerted” or “reminded” of the driving rules. Here, honking means, “Lookout, I’m coming!” There is a lot of honking here, and it used to make us jump. Now, we know a dala dala is coming, so we casually move over as we look up and admire the decorations on the dala dala as it passes by.
- Traffic lights, or lack thereof. I have only seen one traffic light in the city. (Hundreds are needed.) Drivers wait 10 minutes to get through the intersections. We expect this when driving now, so we’ll decline a ride home to walk 3.5 KM rather than sit in traffic.
- The “Make Your Own Lane” concept. There aren’t any lines in the street to keep cars on the left, which is the side of the road on which they are supposed to drive. So, when there’s a lot of traffic and a dala dala driver doesn’t want to wait, he just makes a new lane and goes around the cars. In Moshono, this new lane is often a dirt path that many of us Westerners would have thought was a sidewalk. Oddly enough, we now think it’s safer to walk in the street. That way, we remain vigilant to oncoming cars. When walking on the sidewalk, it’s too easy to not realize that the honking dala dala is telling YOU to move out of its way.
- Pick-up truck concerts! Pick-up trucks carrying bands and dancers often drive by, filling the street with happy music. Oddly, the music quiets the chaos of the streets even while making things louder.
- Oranges. Here, they are green. Go figure.
- In other cities I have visited, I have heard the Muslim call to prayer sound each morning, afternoon, and evening. The call lasts about a minute. Here in Arusha, since we live next door to a mosque, we hear the call, but we also hear the entire prayer, as well. Once, it lasted until midnight.
- Doilies. People here put doilies on all of their furniture. We’ve even seen doilies placed on top of piles of clothes or dishes. At our house, there is even a doily on top of the TV. It’s odd, but we’re used to it now.
- There’s a reason they don’t call them French Fries. In Tanzania, “chips” are soggy potatoes sliced to look like British chips, but since they aren’t fried enough, they do not taste like them. In fact, chips are normally pretty disappointing. We now know not to order them unless we’re in a restaurant listed in Lonely Planet, which means it is a restaurant for non-Africans.
- And the only thing worse than the soggy chips is Tomato Sauce, what people here use instead of ketchup. Tomato Sauce is like watery ketchup. I can’t believe people stand for it! And I think I could open a successful expat café in Arusha just by stocking Heinz. But alas, I have come to accept Tomato Sauce.
- Street merchants. They try to sell us everything from Swahili dictionaries to pillows. Today, someone tried to sell me a shirt that said, “Well Spotted: I’m a Mzungu. I don’t have any money. I don’t have any pens. And I don’t want to buy anything.” Ironic?
- Men holding hands. They greet on the street and walk hand in hand for blocks at a time. It’s kind of nice to see, actually. I wonder why I have never seen any women do it?
- We take part in street greetings, too. I used to be a little taken aback by so many people I didn’t know saying hello to me. I assumed they wanted to sell me something. (Many did!) But many people here just want to say hello, too. They want to meet us, here how we are doing, and welcome us to their country. And we love it!
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Scenes from Arusha
With only a couple of days left in Arusha, we have begun to laugh at all of the bizarre everyday occurrences that no longer startle us. Here are a few things that we have become accustomed to seeing throughout our temporary Tanzanian hometown...
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Celebrations at St. Lucia
Our first day at St. Lucia was on June 2, our second day in Arusha. We arrived at 8:30 AM and after only a few hours with the children, Jeremy was completely exhausted. I spent the day rolling out dough for enough chapatti to feed 20 people, which was also hard work. Honestly, we were not sure if we had made the right decision to volunteer, and we couldn’t imagine how we would possibly keep ourselves busy throughout the entire month of June.
However, we quickly settled into a routine and became busy with many different projects. Soon, juggling time with the children, time in the community, grant research, proposal writing, and other administrative tasks took up the majority of our day. We now only have two days left here in Arusha with the St. Lucia team, and we cannot believe how quickly the time has passed!
On Friday, while we reviewed all of our completed projects with her, she became so overwhelmed that she began to cry a little. Winnie even got down on her knees to thank us and in her words, “beg” us to continue volunteering. This begging was of course entirely unnecessary! Jeremy and I have truly become engaged and dedicated to the success of the projects we have initiated, and we are eager to continue to work with Winnie to support St. Lucia’s patients in any way that we can. We certainly are not ready to say good-bye to our new friends, and we are thrilled even to have the support of the St. Lucia Board of Directors to continue our projects.
Pending approval of funding, they mentioned that they would like to pay us for our work, as well. Who knows if that will happen, but in a matter of four weeks, we have been promoted from Summer Volunteers to Program Directors! (That will certainly make a nice line item on our updated resumes once we return to the USA…) However, in all seriousness, this month in Arusha has truly been a wonderful learning and growing opportunity. And although the children sang and danced to thank US today, we feel that we have them to thank for so much more than our words can describe.
And so we say, “Asante sana!” to Winnie and all of the children at St. Lucia, as well as to all of the patients in the Arusha community who have welcomed us into their homes. We look forward to continuing to serve you from afar, but we will always keep you close in our hearts.
However, we quickly settled into a routine and became busy with many different projects. Soon, juggling time with the children, time in the community, grant research, proposal writing, and other administrative tasks took up the majority of our day. We now only have two days left here in Arusha with the St. Lucia team, and we cannot believe how quickly the time has passed!
On Friday, while we reviewed all of our completed projects with her, she became so overwhelmed that she began to cry a little. Winnie even got down on her knees to thank us and in her words, “beg” us to continue volunteering. This begging was of course entirely unnecessary! Jeremy and I have truly become engaged and dedicated to the success of the projects we have initiated, and we are eager to continue to work with Winnie to support St. Lucia’s patients in any way that we can. We certainly are not ready to say good-bye to our new friends, and we are thrilled even to have the support of the St. Lucia Board of Directors to continue our projects.
Pending approval of funding, they mentioned that they would like to pay us for our work, as well. Who knows if that will happen, but in a matter of four weeks, we have been promoted from Summer Volunteers to Program Directors! (That will certainly make a nice line item on our updated resumes once we return to the USA…) However, in all seriousness, this month in Arusha has truly been a wonderful learning and growing opportunity. And although the children sang and danced to thank US today, we feel that we have them to thank for so much more than our words can describe.
And so we say, “Asante sana!” to Winnie and all of the children at St. Lucia, as well as to all of the patients in the Arusha community who have welcomed us into their homes. We look forward to continuing to serve you from afar, but we will always keep you close in our hearts.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Not Bored with Bordeaux
Given the emotional intensity of the past two days of work, coupled with the fact that electricity has been non-existent all week, we were very much in need of an easy going day. Although this morning began with a frigid, non-electricity shower, it turned into exactly what we needed: an opportunity to catch up on life while also enjoying some relaxation. (Wine.)
We began our day with a meeting at Pathfinder International, a very well known NGO specializing in reproductive health and family planning. Jeremy and I were very excited to meet with this group, as we believe family planning is one of the most critical needs for St. Lucia's patients and the entire country of Tanzania / region of East Africa.
At our meeting, we learned about Pathfinder's successes establishing village community banks throughout Arusha. The concept of saving and planning for the future is not a part of the culture in Tanzania. (Apparently, it is not a typical custom in many developing countries.) Village community banks, commonly referred to as VICOBA projects, teach local people how to save while also providing much needed lines of credit for business initiatives and income generation.
As we have previously explained, the people of Tanzania work extremely hard when they have the opportunity to do so. VICOBA projects give local people financial opportunity while also providing much needed financial planning education... Or so we have heard! Time to do some research (best completed with a glass of wine) and figure out if and how a project of this nature will benefit St. Lucia and it's patients throughout the Arusha community.
I will probably need one more glass of wine to make a sound recommendation! Haha!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
We began our day with a meeting at Pathfinder International, a very well known NGO specializing in reproductive health and family planning. Jeremy and I were very excited to meet with this group, as we believe family planning is one of the most critical needs for St. Lucia's patients and the entire country of Tanzania / region of East Africa.
At our meeting, we learned about Pathfinder's successes establishing village community banks throughout Arusha. The concept of saving and planning for the future is not a part of the culture in Tanzania. (Apparently, it is not a typical custom in many developing countries.) Village community banks, commonly referred to as VICOBA projects, teach local people how to save while also providing much needed lines of credit for business initiatives and income generation.
As we have previously explained, the people of Tanzania work extremely hard when they have the opportunity to do so. VICOBA projects give local people financial opportunity while also providing much needed financial planning education... Or so we have heard! Time to do some research (best completed with a glass of wine) and figure out if and how a project of this nature will benefit St. Lucia and it's patients throughout the Arusha community.
I will probably need one more glass of wine to make a sound recommendation! Haha!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Arusha,Tanzania
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Tomorrow is Another Day
Today was probably the most emotionally draining day both Jeremy and I have experienced to date in Tanzania. With only one week remaining at St. Lucia, we have been busy spending time with the children at the nursing home, finishing our “business” projects, and making many trips to visit patients living in the Arusha community.
Today we were out in the community, visiting people in their homes. I brace myself when we enter these homes, preparing myself for the worst. I have become used to the single room homes made of wood and mud. I am no longer surprised when I see rags and clothes plug the holes in the walls to prevent draft. I expect to see only one or two beds, even when I count seven or eight family members. I have stopped trying to imagine how everyone fits into the beds, and instead, I smile. I thank them for graciously inviting me into their home as they say over and over again, “Karibu sana.” You are very welcome…
First, we visited an old man with lung cancer. He travels 12 hours by bus to Dar es Salaam, the capital of Tanzania and location of the only hospital in the country that can perform radiation. His family can barely afford the treatment, but they figure out a way to do so. Unfortunately, they cannot afford any medication to manage his pain after the treatment. He speaks through a trachea, which is damaged and in need of prepare. He coughs blood and is wearing a winter jacket. I am sweating, but he is so cold. But he tells us that our visit brings him hope.
Next, we visited a 30 year old woman with AIDS. Five years ago, when her immune system was especially weak due to HIV, she contracted meningitis and became paralyzed. She has been in bed ever since. When we arrived, she was able to sit up. She has been working with a therapist who has helped her rebuild strength in her legs. We helped her stand today and walk several meters in the hall. She smiles through the pain, telling us she likes exercise. Her speech was slurred. Tired, we helped her sit down again and listened as she told us that she wet the bed before we arrived. No one was home to help her use the bathroom. We counseled her, asked about her family. But she started to cry, and sobbed for a long time. Winfrida reminded her of the progress she has made, and then lead a prayer before we concluded the visit. During the prayer, I noticed Winfrida’s voice quiver. And as soon as I left her home, I myself burst into tears.
I can’t pray. Because I can’t understand why God would allow disease like this to exist in this world. And I can’t accept that God would allow people to suffer like this, and for so long. There is no mercy in cancer, AIDS, or poverty. And I felt so helpless to being able to do anything to make these patients more comfortable as they try to endure the pain. Winfrida hugged me as I cried, and she thanked me for coming to work with her. She reminded me that I am giving these patients hope just by being here, so I pulled myself together.
We went on to visit three more patients, including an HIV+ baby with a tuberculosis infection that resulted in an abnormal growth on her chest. Next, a woman in her mid-forties with HIV and shingles. She no longer has an appetite, and her CD4 levels are dropping. Finally, we visit an HIV+ woman who at 35, has just come home from the hospital with a diagnosis of renal failure. Her hands and legs and feet are so swollen that she cannot walk. She has many drugs and is taking all of them, and yet she still complains of pain and discomfort. Nothing can be done to help her.
And nothing can really be done to help any of the other patients with whom we visited today. Unlike other people we have seen in the past, all of these patients ARE taking their medicine. But they need more. HIV/AIDS medication is free, but treating the opportunistic infections that stem from HIV/AIDS is not free. People don’t die from AIDS, though; they die from those very infections for which these patients cannot afford to treat. How is that fair?
I feel like everyone we saw today is waiting to die. So we discuss what we can do to help them be more comfortable. We will return with pain medication and gauze for the man with lung cancer and wound on his throat. We will arrange a trip for him to receive new tubes at a hospital in Moshi. We will provide training to the 30 year old woman’s sisters so that they can help her continue walking each day, and we will also try to obtain a new mattress for her. We will send the baby back to the hospital; and we will provide nutritional counseling for the woman with shingles, explaining that she must eat so that her body can fight off other infections that may come her way. For the woman with renal failure, we discuss leg exercises and how her family can help her attend services at the mosque for spiritual comfort.
Back home, Jeremy and I lie in bed holding one another. We have seen more suffering than we knew existed. And because I’m exhausted and overwhelmed, I feel defeated. I don’t think there is anything that can be done. But Jeremy reminds me of all the work that can be done to stop this cycle of suffering. Prevention education to stop the spread of HIV. Family planning to curb poverty and reduce mother to child HIV transmission. Nutritional and hygiene education to fight opportunistic infections. Community training to eliminate the stigma associated with so many life threatening diseases.Again, Jeremy is right. And tomorrow is another day.
Today we were out in the community, visiting people in their homes. I brace myself when we enter these homes, preparing myself for the worst. I have become used to the single room homes made of wood and mud. I am no longer surprised when I see rags and clothes plug the holes in the walls to prevent draft. I expect to see only one or two beds, even when I count seven or eight family members. I have stopped trying to imagine how everyone fits into the beds, and instead, I smile. I thank them for graciously inviting me into their home as they say over and over again, “Karibu sana.” You are very welcome…
First, we visited an old man with lung cancer. He travels 12 hours by bus to Dar es Salaam, the capital of Tanzania and location of the only hospital in the country that can perform radiation. His family can barely afford the treatment, but they figure out a way to do so. Unfortunately, they cannot afford any medication to manage his pain after the treatment. He speaks through a trachea, which is damaged and in need of prepare. He coughs blood and is wearing a winter jacket. I am sweating, but he is so cold. But he tells us that our visit brings him hope.
Next, we visited a 30 year old woman with AIDS. Five years ago, when her immune system was especially weak due to HIV, she contracted meningitis and became paralyzed. She has been in bed ever since. When we arrived, she was able to sit up. She has been working with a therapist who has helped her rebuild strength in her legs. We helped her stand today and walk several meters in the hall. She smiles through the pain, telling us she likes exercise. Her speech was slurred. Tired, we helped her sit down again and listened as she told us that she wet the bed before we arrived. No one was home to help her use the bathroom. We counseled her, asked about her family. But she started to cry, and sobbed for a long time. Winfrida reminded her of the progress she has made, and then lead a prayer before we concluded the visit. During the prayer, I noticed Winfrida’s voice quiver. And as soon as I left her home, I myself burst into tears.
I can’t pray. Because I can’t understand why God would allow disease like this to exist in this world. And I can’t accept that God would allow people to suffer like this, and for so long. There is no mercy in cancer, AIDS, or poverty. And I felt so helpless to being able to do anything to make these patients more comfortable as they try to endure the pain. Winfrida hugged me as I cried, and she thanked me for coming to work with her. She reminded me that I am giving these patients hope just by being here, so I pulled myself together.
We went on to visit three more patients, including an HIV+ baby with a tuberculosis infection that resulted in an abnormal growth on her chest. Next, a woman in her mid-forties with HIV and shingles. She no longer has an appetite, and her CD4 levels are dropping. Finally, we visit an HIV+ woman who at 35, has just come home from the hospital with a diagnosis of renal failure. Her hands and legs and feet are so swollen that she cannot walk. She has many drugs and is taking all of them, and yet she still complains of pain and discomfort. Nothing can be done to help her.
And nothing can really be done to help any of the other patients with whom we visited today. Unlike other people we have seen in the past, all of these patients ARE taking their medicine. But they need more. HIV/AIDS medication is free, but treating the opportunistic infections that stem from HIV/AIDS is not free. People don’t die from AIDS, though; they die from those very infections for which these patients cannot afford to treat. How is that fair?
I feel like everyone we saw today is waiting to die. So we discuss what we can do to help them be more comfortable. We will return with pain medication and gauze for the man with lung cancer and wound on his throat. We will arrange a trip for him to receive new tubes at a hospital in Moshi. We will provide training to the 30 year old woman’s sisters so that they can help her continue walking each day, and we will also try to obtain a new mattress for her. We will send the baby back to the hospital; and we will provide nutritional counseling for the woman with shingles, explaining that she must eat so that her body can fight off other infections that may come her way. For the woman with renal failure, we discuss leg exercises and how her family can help her attend services at the mosque for spiritual comfort.
Back home, Jeremy and I lie in bed holding one another. We have seen more suffering than we knew existed. And because I’m exhausted and overwhelmed, I feel defeated. I don’t think there is anything that can be done. But Jeremy reminds me of all the work that can be done to stop this cycle of suffering. Prevention education to stop the spread of HIV. Family planning to curb poverty and reduce mother to child HIV transmission. Nutritional and hygiene education to fight opportunistic infections. Community training to eliminate the stigma associated with so many life threatening diseases.Again, Jeremy is right. And tomorrow is another day.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Tarangire National Park (Part Two)
Thanks to Jeremy's brother Jeff, we were fortunate to bring an SLR camera with a pretty intense zoom lens to Tanzania. So enjoy a few more pics - most of them taken from very far away, although you would never know it - from our weekend safari!
All in all, the short safari was a perfect introduction to life in the African bush. We drove about two hours South of Arusha to arrive at Tarangire National Park, one of the National Parks in Tanzania that is normally skipped on most 5-day Northern Safari Circuits. But we think it was worth the trip.
First, we were able to ease into the safari lifestyle. After three weeks in Arusha, we have to admit, it felt really weird to be surrounded by White travelers. I think throughout the entire park, we only saw one Black tourist and one Asian tourist. And at time, I personally struggled with the concept of a safari vacation knowing that too many local Tanzanian families never get to visit these parks due to cost. Then again, by going on this safari, we are supporting the economy of Tanzania as a whole, as well as the smaller economies of local Massai villages near the park. Africa sure has a way of being a Catch 22...
We hope you enjoy the pictures, though! Check out the wildebeests, zebras, elephants, several bird species, vultures, lions, tourists - ha, giraffes, warthogs, impalas, and baboons.
Tarangire National Park Photos
Pictures from our first short Safari to Tarangire National Park, Tanzania. We'll post some information about the trip soon!
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| 2011-06-19 - Tarangire National Park |
Tanzania: These Are a Few of Our Favorite Things
I am starting to grow saddened by the fact that our time in Tanzania is now half way over. Oh, to be afraid of the daladala again! Those were the days...
Therefore, while we sit on the front porch of our tent, after our first safari game drive, before dinner, while sipping South African wine, we enumerate all that we have come to love about this wonderful country.
Children - even those who we do not know - running up to us to say hello. With huge smiles on their faces, they sometimes call to us, "Mzungu!" we don't care, we love the attention. And we especially love those who give us a hug and/or high five.
The number of ways that you can say HELLO and HOW ARE YOU in Swahilli. It's not just the kids who are friendly. People are always greeting each other, even if the people don't know one another. It is a friendly place.
Speaking of friendly, we love all the friends we have made! Those at St. Lucia, of course. But also the daladala drivers who have come to know that every morning, we will be looking for a bus to Moshino. And let's not forget the street merchants. They still chat with us even though they know we will not be buying anything.
We love that there are many different people here, but that they all get along. Christians, Muslims, Hindus, Massai. Everyone here is Tanzanian first, different second.
Hard workers - whether in the market, on the street, or hanging out a daladala window, we witness so many people working so hard... This country is not lazy! We know good things are in store for Tanzania in the future.
The inspiring HIV-positive children at St. Lucia... When they had to pick a name for a new orphan, they chose the name, "Winner." I don't think it gets much more optimistic than that.
Chapatti - Flour, oil, and water has never tasted so good. I will be introducing all of my friends to this glorious food as soon as possible!
Peas and carrots! Never in my life has anyone, nevertheless an entire country, managed to make these vegetables appealing to me. I eat them at least once a day, because I have to, but I don't mind. Really!
Mount Kilimanjaro. It is enormous, and yet it is welcoming. We also can't get enough of the landscape of Kili watching over Moshi and Mount Meru.
The Massai, especially their colorful garments, walking sticks, and adherence to tradition.
National Parks! At home we have Yosemite and Golden Gate National Recreation Area. But we don't have elephants!
Bottled water that is barely 50 cents per 1.5 liters! I will never pay $2 (or more!) for 8 ounces of DASANI / AquaFina / Poland Spring again.
CocaCola! You taste so good in a glass bottle for 75 cents!
Stationery stores that can't spell the name of their product. (Stationary?!) I laugh every time I see these signs!
Mosquito nets! It's a BugHut for the bed! A tent with a mattress! Camping inside! If only we could get a campfire going, too.
Karibu! Karibuni! You are welcome! Yes, we are mzungu; but we actually do feel very welcome in this country. We love you, Tanzania. We have three weeks left, and we promise to make the most of it!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Therefore, while we sit on the front porch of our tent, after our first safari game drive, before dinner, while sipping South African wine, we enumerate all that we have come to love about this wonderful country.
Children - even those who we do not know - running up to us to say hello. With huge smiles on their faces, they sometimes call to us, "Mzungu!" we don't care, we love the attention. And we especially love those who give us a hug and/or high five.
The number of ways that you can say HELLO and HOW ARE YOU in Swahilli. It's not just the kids who are friendly. People are always greeting each other, even if the people don't know one another. It is a friendly place.
Speaking of friendly, we love all the friends we have made! Those at St. Lucia, of course. But also the daladala drivers who have come to know that every morning, we will be looking for a bus to Moshino. And let's not forget the street merchants. They still chat with us even though they know we will not be buying anything.
We love that there are many different people here, but that they all get along. Christians, Muslims, Hindus, Massai. Everyone here is Tanzanian first, different second.
Hard workers - whether in the market, on the street, or hanging out a daladala window, we witness so many people working so hard... This country is not lazy! We know good things are in store for Tanzania in the future.
The inspiring HIV-positive children at St. Lucia... When they had to pick a name for a new orphan, they chose the name, "Winner." I don't think it gets much more optimistic than that.
Chapatti - Flour, oil, and water has never tasted so good. I will be introducing all of my friends to this glorious food as soon as possible!
Peas and carrots! Never in my life has anyone, nevertheless an entire country, managed to make these vegetables appealing to me. I eat them at least once a day, because I have to, but I don't mind. Really!
Mount Kilimanjaro. It is enormous, and yet it is welcoming. We also can't get enough of the landscape of Kili watching over Moshi and Mount Meru.
The Massai, especially their colorful garments, walking sticks, and adherence to tradition.
National Parks! At home we have Yosemite and Golden Gate National Recreation Area. But we don't have elephants!
Bottled water that is barely 50 cents per 1.5 liters! I will never pay $2 (or more!) for 8 ounces of DASANI / AquaFina / Poland Spring again.
CocaCola! You taste so good in a glass bottle for 75 cents!
Stationery stores that can't spell the name of their product. (Stationary?!) I laugh every time I see these signs!
Mosquito nets! It's a BugHut for the bed! A tent with a mattress! Camping inside! If only we could get a campfire going, too.
Karibu! Karibuni! You are welcome! Yes, we are mzungu; but we actually do feel very welcome in this country. We love you, Tanzania. We have three weeks left, and we promise to make the most of it!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Tarangire National Park, Tanzania
Friday, June 17, 2011
Home Based Care in Malangarini
Last week, we ventured out to visit some of St. Lucia's patients living in the rural outskirts of Arusha. The name of the village is Malangarini, and our first visit there was very much an eye opening experience. Neither Jeremy nor I have ever seen poverty of this magnitude in our lives. Probably not even on television, really.
Families with seven children live in huts the size of a walk-in closet, made of mud and sticks. They burn fires for food and warmth inside their small homes without much ventilation for the smoke. There is no electricity. Community water is sparse, pumped from a well at best. Children are everywhere, though. They are certainly, and very sadly, not in school. They carry plastic jugs with them, walking to the wells to get water. They later play with these same plastic jugs, for they double as their only real toys.
Income and livelihood is based on whatever crop you can manage to grow on your small plot of land. For many of the families we visited, it seems as if the husband is expected to provide for the family. And if he dies or leaves - as is the case for too many - the family is in rather dire straits. Most of these families were already in serious trouble anyhow, as their family members often suffer from life-threatening diseases.
Today we visited two families in St. Lucia's care. We started by helping a man who has a wound on his leg that will not heal due to cancer. We cleaned his wound and applying new bandages. We also educated his family on the importance of cleaning the wound daily and applying dressings. After our visit today, it is quite clear this man needs to go to a hospital to have the wound examined by a doctor, since his condition deteriorates each time we have visited him. We will help coordinate this trip next week.
Next, we checked in on a family of eight who has tuberculosis. St. Lucia has been working with this family for about one month, and has previously requested to look at the children's medical cards (provided by hospitals) to view the medications they have been given and ensure the medication is being taken correctly. In the past, the mother of the family has said she could not find the cards. Today, however, she produced the card of one child, and when Winfrida reviewed it, learned the child was HIV-positive.
Learning this information was quite shocking. There are many reasons why the family did not want to disclose the fact that at least one child is HIV-positive. Fear. Shame. Ignorance. Do all of the children have HIV? The mother is currently pregnant with a seventh child, as well. I am having a very hard time processing all of this information today. I have so many questions, so many concerns... Most of all, though, I wonder if anything can ever REALLY be done -- by anyone, least of all me -- to help?
Families with seven children live in huts the size of a walk-in closet, made of mud and sticks. They burn fires for food and warmth inside their small homes without much ventilation for the smoke. There is no electricity. Community water is sparse, pumped from a well at best. Children are everywhere, though. They are certainly, and very sadly, not in school. They carry plastic jugs with them, walking to the wells to get water. They later play with these same plastic jugs, for they double as their only real toys.
Income and livelihood is based on whatever crop you can manage to grow on your small plot of land. For many of the families we visited, it seems as if the husband is expected to provide for the family. And if he dies or leaves - as is the case for too many - the family is in rather dire straits. Most of these families were already in serious trouble anyhow, as their family members often suffer from life-threatening diseases.
Today we visited two families in St. Lucia's care. We started by helping a man who has a wound on his leg that will not heal due to cancer. We cleaned his wound and applying new bandages. We also educated his family on the importance of cleaning the wound daily and applying dressings. After our visit today, it is quite clear this man needs to go to a hospital to have the wound examined by a doctor, since his condition deteriorates each time we have visited him. We will help coordinate this trip next week.
Next, we checked in on a family of eight who has tuberculosis. St. Lucia has been working with this family for about one month, and has previously requested to look at the children's medical cards (provided by hospitals) to view the medications they have been given and ensure the medication is being taken correctly. In the past, the mother of the family has said she could not find the cards. Today, however, she produced the card of one child, and when Winfrida reviewed it, learned the child was HIV-positive.
Learning this information was quite shocking. There are many reasons why the family did not want to disclose the fact that at least one child is HIV-positive. Fear. Shame. Ignorance. Do all of the children have HIV? The mother is currently pregnant with a seventh child, as well. I am having a very hard time processing all of this information today. I have so many questions, so many concerns... Most of all, though, I wonder if anything can ever REALLY be done -- by anyone, least of all me -- to help?
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Hakuna Matata
After three weeks in Africa, Jeremy thinks that I'm starting to display signs of my least favorite virtue, PATIENCE. Hard to believe, no?
Well, Jeremy made this comment while I sat quietly at the local market, waiting almost two hours for our private bus to pick us up and bring us back to St. Lucia. Yes, the very same market where we spent two hours purchasing five things for the nursing home. (Oil, spaghetti, flour, rice, one sack of vegetables.) 5 things that could have been purchased in under 30 minutes, including haggling time. And yes, the very same market that we had to walk over a mile to meet our social worker to show us it's location, which happens to me the block next to our home. So yes, we walked two miles round trip and sat around for four hours to buy 5 grocery items that could have been picked up in a half hour.
Maybe I'm becoming outwardly more patient, but on the inside I'm as aggravated and short-tempered as ever. Does anything ever get done here? Does anything ever happen when it is supposed to happen? Does anyone ever plan ahead more than 15 minutes? Are the words to that Todo song, "I waited and waited down in Africa!"?!
Most days, I see so much promise in the work done by St. Lucia. However too often, I want to body slam my favorite social worker (CSW) to ensure he stays as far away from the projects on which I'm working as possible. But that wouldn't be very polite of me, so instead, I smile and say to myself, "Hakuna Matata. It's Africa!"
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Well, Jeremy made this comment while I sat quietly at the local market, waiting almost two hours for our private bus to pick us up and bring us back to St. Lucia. Yes, the very same market where we spent two hours purchasing five things for the nursing home. (Oil, spaghetti, flour, rice, one sack of vegetables.) 5 things that could have been purchased in under 30 minutes, including haggling time. And yes, the very same market that we had to walk over a mile to meet our social worker to show us it's location, which happens to me the block next to our home. So yes, we walked two miles round trip and sat around for four hours to buy 5 grocery items that could have been picked up in a half hour.
Maybe I'm becoming outwardly more patient, but on the inside I'm as aggravated and short-tempered as ever. Does anything ever get done here? Does anything ever happen when it is supposed to happen? Does anyone ever plan ahead more than 15 minutes? Are the words to that Todo song, "I waited and waited down in Africa!"?!
Most days, I see so much promise in the work done by St. Lucia. However too often, I want to body slam my favorite social worker (CSW) to ensure he stays as far away from the projects on which I'm working as possible. But that wouldn't be very polite of me, so instead, I smile and say to myself, "Hakuna Matata. It's Africa!"
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Arusha, Tanzania
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Santa Lucia Successes
After only a week of working at Santa Lucia, we are enjoying some success… The first proposal Jeremy and I have co-authored has cleared the Round 1 hurdle. We submitted the proposal last Tuesday, and on Friday, the company responded, saying they thought our project had merit. So we’re on to the next phase of the application process!
What’s the project about? Of course, it is about improving public health in Arusha. However, the way in which this project will go about improving public health – via sustainable agriculture – is rather unique. At least it’s surprising to Jeremy and me. I guess when we planned our volunteering experience in Tanzania, we thought we would spend a lot of time figuring out how to increase the public’s access to much needed medication. However, since we’ve started working here, we’ve learned that the government pays for all citizens’ HIV/AIDS medication. Therefore, from a cost perspective, there should be no barriers to access for anyone who is sick with HIV/AIDS.
However, after our first week of community visits, we have learned that St. Lucia’s patients, many of whom are struggling rural farmers, lack two fundamental things that would help them obtain their free supply of HIV/AIDS drugs more easily and consistently: transportation and food.
First, access to transportation for those living in rural villages is limited. We can verify that, as it took us nearly an hour and a half to find a bus home to Arusha after our first rural village visit. And for that hour-long drive back to the city, in which we covered a distance of no more than ten miles, we paid a whopping 1000 TShs, over three times the price of a normal bus ride. Local villagers living below the poverty line are surviving off of roughly 3000 TShs per day, so 2000 TShs in round-trip bus fare is clearly a stretch. As a result, these patients cannot travel to the city to see a doctor or garner medication. Thus, these patients often go without needed medicine for extended periods of time.
Second, a lack of food also prohibits many rural villagers from taking their medication. ARV drugs are meant to be taken with food, as a common side-effect of the drug is nausea. Our patients complain that they routinely don’t have enough to eat and feel very sick when they take their medication, so they just don’t take it. They feel that their HIV diagnosis is a death sentence, anyway. If they’re already starving, and if taking medication makes them feel even more terrible, why bother?
So Santa Lucia is embarking on a unique project in conjunction with the Ministry of Agriculture to provide microloans to villagers that will be used to purchase agriculture equipment and supplies. Santa Lucia will work with patients and their families to improve their farming techniques, thus generating larger yields that can be better utilized by the family, but also sold at market. With adequate food, the sick family members will be in a position to properly take the medicine they need to treat their life threatening diseases. In addition, the additional income generated from increased crop yields can be put towards bus fare to visit the doctor and obtain medicine. Of course, the income can be used in many other ways, as well.
However, at its core, the project aims to raise the standard of living for the participant families via sustainable agriculture, thus improving the families’ overall health. We thought it sounded like a stretch when we first heard about the project, but after visiting the rural villages and doing a bit of research, about similar projects sponsored by OikoCredit (who would also be the sponsor of this project), we are becoming optimistic. But we are busy! We need to complete Part Two of the application this week. The next items on our To Do List include: Writing St. Lucia’s Business Plan (yes, it’s missing…), Writing the Project Plan, Creating a Budget and Financial Analysis for the Next Five Years, and completing a Feasibility Study.
So on top of learning a lot about public health this summer, we’re also learning the basics of microfinance… as quickly as possible! 43% of the population living in the Arumeru district of Arusha – where Santa Lucia is located – is living below the poverty line. That’s roughly 234,321 residents. Many people stand to benefit from the work, so we’ll give it our best shot!
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Mount Meru Poo
Just outside the noisy, dusty, crowded city of Arusha lies one of Tanzania’s great National Parks, Arusha National Park. It is not as grand as the Serengeti, and most tour books say that it can be visited in one day. But Jeremy and I were eager to get out of the city, so on Saturday morning, we packed our bags and took a daladala to the outskirts of town…
Yes, we took the daladala. We quoted a few excursions with tour operators, who wanted to charge us $200 Round Trip for transportation to the park. But with some research, we learned that the daldalas go out to the small village of Usa River for 1000 TShs round trip (less than $1!). So Jeremy and I each forked over the equivalent of 50 cents and began our journey. Once at Usa River, we took a taxi (they line up and prey on white tourists!) to the Meru View Lodge. Again, another score. The hotel said they could pick us up in Usa River for $5 one way trip. Our taxi only cost 5000 TShs, which is about $3. We certainly don’t blend in, but Jeremy and I should NOT be mistaken for ignorant tourists!
Meru View Lodge was great. Listed in Lonely Planet as a “great value” option, we think it was pretty damn nice. Our reservation included three meals each, so we enjoyed lunch upon arrival. I had my first serving of ugali, Jeremy had chapatti. We were both in heaven. Ugali is kind of like polenta, only more dense. And seriously, I cannot get enough of the peas and carrots in Tanzania! Amazing. Jeremy’s chapatti was almost like a burrito, so of course, el fue muy content. Afterwards, we lounged by the pool and read all afternoon. It was amazing to listen to birds chirp instead of the damn dogs across the street barking. And the rooster next door crowing. And the recordings of chanting from the mosque around the corner…
Around 7PM, we enjoyed a three course dinner. Cucumber soup, skirt steak and potatoes, and a frozen banana chocolate dessert. We also had some wine. Then we went back to our room, settled into our bed, closed the mosquito nets, and fell asleep around 9PM. No television, and we’d already spent the day reading. It was a much needed relaxing day. And it was awesome.
Until about 3AM. Jeremy woke up and wasn’t feeling well. Seriously, I could hear his stomach squirming and churning and being quite disagreeable. And just like in Peru, Jeremy got sick with what I like to call, Traveler’s Runs. Poor guy. He felt pretty terrible. So terrible that we had to cancel our camel safari through Arusha National Park on Sunday. So terrible that we went home to Arusha and he just lied in bed all day. And so terrible that he didn’t even go to work on Monday.
Thankfully, our doctor gave us a prescription for Cipro before we left the USA. Jeremy has been taking it since we arrived home on Sunday, and he’s now doing much better. I am so relieved. So we didn’t get to see any animals yet, nor did we get to experience a camel ride with a local Masai! But we’ll be back to Arusha National Park and Mount Meru. And the only poo we encounter will be that of a camel.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
I Miss MUNI
In San Francisco, I completely LOATHE taking the bus (MUNI, for the non-San Francisco readers). All the stops and starts and the jostling around as the bus climbs up and down the San Francisco hills… On several occasions I have even gotten out of the bus early and vomited on the sidewalk.
So after a week in Moshi and Arusha, I was pretty petrified to ride the local buses, which are called daladala. In fact, I tried just about everything I could to avoid taking one. You see, daladala aren’t really buses. They’re vans. Kind of like the old Volkwagen vans from the 1960s. And they are decorated, too! They aren’t decorated with flowers or peace symbols, but they are decorated with just about everything else. There are many daladala covered in religious messages. Some are covered with pictures of rappers from Tanzania or America. We saw one daladala that had “Chocolate” painted on the side. I’m not entirely sure how the system works, but I think daladala drivers purchase or lease their own vehicles and then decorate them however they wish. And I think the drivers must be rewarded for having the most “pieces of flair.”
Anyway, the decorations aren’t what make them scary. Everything else about the daladala makes them scary. First, our friend Goodluck told us an old saying, “The bucket can be full, but the daladala can never be full.” I bet it sounds a lot better in Swahili. Just when you don’t think it is possible to fit another person into a specific daladala, at least two more people find a way to cram into it. The driver sits in the front seat; and it is important to note that in Tanzania, the driver sits on the right side of the car because cars are driven on the left side of the road. Next, there is a doorman. He more or less has the lower half of his body in the daladala, but the upper half of his body hangs out the sliding door on the left side of the vehicle. “Moshono! Moshono!” or “Ngiro! Ngiro!” It is the doorman’s job to yell out the final destination of the daladala and to board people as quickly as possible. When the driver and doorman are satisfied with the number of people in the daladala, the doorman bangs on the vehicle and away we go…
Passengers pile in and hope to score a seat either in the front row passenger seat, first row (seats two), second row (seats three), the fourth row (seats three but can squeeze one more), or the fifth row (seats four). That means the daladala should be able to accommodate 13 travelers, plus the driver and doorman. But the daladala isn’t a Volvo, it’s more of a clown car, so 13 is really just a starting point. Two skinny Tanzanians can definitely squeeze into the passenger seat. And someone can sit on the “hump” section that separates the passenger seat from the driver seat. And since it’s OK for an arm or head to poke out the window, each row can definitely fit another person. Speaking of rows, there is a “ledge” of sorts behind the passenger and driver seats, so a few extra people can sometimes squat there, as well. Hopefully those people brushed their teeth, because they will be breathing on top of the people in the first row of back seats. Then there’s the “hallway” section of the daladala next to the door. Since the doorman’s body is only halfway in the daladala, and also because not all of the sliding doors shut all the way, an extra three people can crouch in the “hallway” section of the vehicle.
During my first daladala ride, I sat in the first row next to the doorman. On this vehicle, the sliding door didn’t close all the way. So when the driver decided to speed UP for a speed bump in the middle of the road, the door flew open and the doorman, whose torso was of course hanging outside the window, was nearly cut in two. A passenger standing in the “hallway” grabbed his shirt so that he wouldn’t fall completely out of the daladala. Amidst this commotion, I had pretty much latched myself onto Jeremy’s backpack so that I, too, didn’t fall out of the daladala. But this experience has taught us a valuable lesson: Nicole boards the daladala before Jeremy in order to take a window or middle seat, and Jeremy can sit by the door…
And on Monday, when Jeremy and I returned to Arusha after visiting the village of Malangarini for our work with St. Lucia, we were probably passengers 24 and 25 on the daladala. We stood / crouched / balanced in the “hallway” as the daladala plowed over bumpy dirt roads for nearly thirty minutes. Once we made it back to town, where the roads are paved but nonetheless scary, we braced the ceiling of the daladala as the driver zoomed and passed cars going too “pole pole” for his liking for another 15 minutes. I think Jeremy and I both pulled muscles in our backs trying to not fall on top of fellow passenger during this time.
Needless to say, I am always thrilled when we reach our stop and can begin walking again. Except yesterday morning, when we had to get out of the daladala earlier than planned, because it had gotten stuck in a ditch. See, once we reach the end of the paved road at Moshono, we have a couple more miles to travel on a dirt road. And yesterday, our driver decided to drive on the dirt sidewalk rather than the dirt road, as it actually has fewer potholes. The problem is that the one pothole it did have was so big that the daladala got stuck in it.
However, if there is one thing Jeremy and I love, it is an adventure. Especially a cultural adventure. And every daladala ride is an adrenaline-packed Tanzanian journey! All for the bargain price of 300 Tanzanian Shillings (about $0.25 USD) a ride. And after this summer, I promise I’ll never complain about the public transportation in San Francisco again!
So after a week in Moshi and Arusha, I was pretty petrified to ride the local buses, which are called daladala. In fact, I tried just about everything I could to avoid taking one. You see, daladala aren’t really buses. They’re vans. Kind of like the old Volkwagen vans from the 1960s. And they are decorated, too! They aren’t decorated with flowers or peace symbols, but they are decorated with just about everything else. There are many daladala covered in religious messages. Some are covered with pictures of rappers from Tanzania or America. We saw one daladala that had “Chocolate” painted on the side. I’m not entirely sure how the system works, but I think daladala drivers purchase or lease their own vehicles and then decorate them however they wish. And I think the drivers must be rewarded for having the most “pieces of flair.”
Anyway, the decorations aren’t what make them scary. Everything else about the daladala makes them scary. First, our friend Goodluck told us an old saying, “The bucket can be full, but the daladala can never be full.” I bet it sounds a lot better in Swahili. Just when you don’t think it is possible to fit another person into a specific daladala, at least two more people find a way to cram into it. The driver sits in the front seat; and it is important to note that in Tanzania, the driver sits on the right side of the car because cars are driven on the left side of the road. Next, there is a doorman. He more or less has the lower half of his body in the daladala, but the upper half of his body hangs out the sliding door on the left side of the vehicle. “Moshono! Moshono!” or “Ngiro! Ngiro!” It is the doorman’s job to yell out the final destination of the daladala and to board people as quickly as possible. When the driver and doorman are satisfied with the number of people in the daladala, the doorman bangs on the vehicle and away we go…
Passengers pile in and hope to score a seat either in the front row passenger seat, first row (seats two), second row (seats three), the fourth row (seats three but can squeeze one more), or the fifth row (seats four). That means the daladala should be able to accommodate 13 travelers, plus the driver and doorman. But the daladala isn’t a Volvo, it’s more of a clown car, so 13 is really just a starting point. Two skinny Tanzanians can definitely squeeze into the passenger seat. And someone can sit on the “hump” section that separates the passenger seat from the driver seat. And since it’s OK for an arm or head to poke out the window, each row can definitely fit another person. Speaking of rows, there is a “ledge” of sorts behind the passenger and driver seats, so a few extra people can sometimes squat there, as well. Hopefully those people brushed their teeth, because they will be breathing on top of the people in the first row of back seats. Then there’s the “hallway” section of the daladala next to the door. Since the doorman’s body is only halfway in the daladala, and also because not all of the sliding doors shut all the way, an extra three people can crouch in the “hallway” section of the vehicle.
During my first daladala ride, I sat in the first row next to the doorman. On this vehicle, the sliding door didn’t close all the way. So when the driver decided to speed UP for a speed bump in the middle of the road, the door flew open and the doorman, whose torso was of course hanging outside the window, was nearly cut in two. A passenger standing in the “hallway” grabbed his shirt so that he wouldn’t fall completely out of the daladala. Amidst this commotion, I had pretty much latched myself onto Jeremy’s backpack so that I, too, didn’t fall out of the daladala. But this experience has taught us a valuable lesson: Nicole boards the daladala before Jeremy in order to take a window or middle seat, and Jeremy can sit by the door…
And on Monday, when Jeremy and I returned to Arusha after visiting the village of Malangarini for our work with St. Lucia, we were probably passengers 24 and 25 on the daladala. We stood / crouched / balanced in the “hallway” as the daladala plowed over bumpy dirt roads for nearly thirty minutes. Once we made it back to town, where the roads are paved but nonetheless scary, we braced the ceiling of the daladala as the driver zoomed and passed cars going too “pole pole” for his liking for another 15 minutes. I think Jeremy and I both pulled muscles in our backs trying to not fall on top of fellow passenger during this time.
Needless to say, I am always thrilled when we reach our stop and can begin walking again. Except yesterday morning, when we had to get out of the daladala earlier than planned, because it had gotten stuck in a ditch. See, once we reach the end of the paved road at Moshono, we have a couple more miles to travel on a dirt road. And yesterday, our driver decided to drive on the dirt sidewalk rather than the dirt road, as it actually has fewer potholes. The problem is that the one pothole it did have was so big that the daladala got stuck in it.
However, if there is one thing Jeremy and I love, it is an adventure. Especially a cultural adventure. And every daladala ride is an adrenaline-packed Tanzanian journey! All for the bargain price of 300 Tanzanian Shillings (about $0.25 USD) a ride. And after this summer, I promise I’ll never complain about the public transportation in San Francisco again!
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Starting at Santa Lucia
We didn't come to Tanzania to climb Mount Kilimanjaro, although it was an excellent “add in” to our journey. Really, we are here in Tanzania to volunteer our time and services to a non-profit organization. Since I am heading back to school in the fall, and because I *think* I want to focus my studies in public health and international development, I thought it would be good to try out the job by working for a few months in a developing country. And since Jeremy spent the last five years of his professional life managing global clinical trials from the USA, and because he is committed to continue working within the biotech industry to develop new drugs that improve people’s lives, he thought it would be interesting to see how health care in the developing world works, as well.
So here we are, in between homes in San Francisco and Los Angeles at St. Lucia, a registered Non Government Organization aiming to improve the health and livelihood of marginalized people in the greater Arusha, Tanzania community through the provision of palliative health care, financial support, and education. We are here this summer to assist the team at St. Lucia in executing their mission in the following areas:
- Admitting sick patients into the St. Lucia nursing home, aiming to stabilize their condition, thus allowing the patients to return to their communities.
- Providing shelter, care, and training to HIV positive children whose parents have died of AIDS and whose extended families will not support them.
- Delivering at home health care and financial planning education to individuals afflicted with life-threatening diseases throughout the greater Arusha area.
- Educating impoverished families how to implement sustainable agricultural projects to generate income and improve health and economic conditions.
We have been working at St. Lucia for a week now, and thus far, it has been a truly eye-opening experience. We wake up each weekday morning around 6:00 AM to shower, eat breakfast, and catch a local bus (see “I Miss Muni”) to the nursing home, which is located on the Eastern side of Arusha, approximately ten miles from our home on the “West End.” We travel through town and to the village of Moshono. We ride the bus for as long as possible, which involves a few miles along a bumpy dirt road, before we hop off and walk the final mile to St. Lucia. Simply arriving to work each morning often feels like a major accomplishment!
As stressful as the commute may be, all the frustration melts away upon entering the nursing home. Every day, 15 small children accost us, smiling, cheering, hugging our knees, and saying in the highest pitch voices, “Good morning!” This phrase is one of the few phrases that most of these children know in English. We respond, “Samalkheri,”which means, “good morning” in Swahilli. And for a little while, we play with the kids and help them finish getting dressed.
Once everyone is dressed, the staff at St. Lucia gather in the living room with the children for songs and morning prayers. I don’t know if it is the African songs or the children’s high voices, but the singing is one of my favorite parts of the day. Throughout the songs and prayers, the kids are incredibly well-behaved, each child taking a turn leading a song or a prayer. I am not the type of person who prays, really, but during these few moments each morning, I think I do find myself praying that the world develops cure for HIV/AIDS as soon as possible. These adorable children do not deserve to have their lives cut short…
After the morning songs and prayers, we get to work. On our first day, we spent the day coloring, helping the school-age children with homework, and preparing lunch. (Specifically, I helped prepare chiappati, a typical Tanzanian dish which resembles tortillas – I made nearly 100 tortillas by hand, rolling dough with a wooden “cylinder” I soon realized was a tree branch… It was exhausting.) On our second day, we attended a meeting at Arusha city hall, in preparation for the upcoming Africa Youth Day, an event which will recognize and support the most vulnerable children in the Arusha region. These two days were good introductions into life at St. Lucia. And we appreciated that they weren’t too tiring, as we were still hurting from our Kilimanjaro climb.
This week has been a bit more intense. On Monday, we ventured out into the rural Malangarini Ward of Arusha, even further outside of town than our village, Moshono. We visited patients and families St. Lucia is supporting through life-threatening illnesses such as tuberculosis and cancer, in addition to HIV/AIDS. Seeing such poverty and suffering was difficult, but Jeremy and I are hopeful that our contributions to the team at St. Lucia will make life for those suffering in Malangarini a little bit easier.
Finally, today we accompanied one of the children to the hospital in town, as she needed to refill her ARV prescriptions. Since starting at St. Lucia, we have learned that Tanzania provides all HIV/AIDS drugs to patients for free, which is great news for Stella, the orphaned patient we assisted today. I had heard bad things about the hospital, however our experience today was quite positive. The staff greeted Stella with hugs and smiles, and they also welcomed us warmly to the team.
We have now completed our orientation of the major initiatives in which St. Lucia is engaged, and we have begun working on several discrete tasks assigned to us by the director of the organization. Winfrida Mshwala is a registered nurse who established St. Lucia in 2002, and she said she is thrilled to have two volunteers with such tremendous business experience! She has put us to work on the following projects:
- Develop a business/management plan to address St. Lucia’s operating challenges
- Create a fundraising strategy to support existing and future projects at St. Lucia
- Research and apply for grants and loans offered to non-profit organizations in Africa
- Create reporting tools to support St. Lucia’s financial reporting requirements
- Conduct home visits with patients in the Arusha community and develop plans for improving each patient’s condition
- Analyze and update database of St. Lucia patient files and health plans
- Initiate program for microloans to HIV patients in rural Arusha
It’s an ambitious set of projects for only four weeks of time, however we are up for the challenge! We have already completed one application for a large grant to initiate microloans to members of the rural Arusha community, #7, and we have another grant proposal to finish tonight, as well. It’s almost like we’re working full time again! So, back to the grind!
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Sweet Home Arusha
Arusha… It is the safari capital of Tanzania and home to 300,000 people, including us, for the month of June. We departed Moshi on Wednesday morning and hitched a ride to the Kilimanjaro airport, where we had agreed to meet up with our A Broader View Volunteer in-country coordinator, Nelson. Much to our surprise, much of the scenery we encountered on our initial drive from the airport to the town of Moshi now seemed rather normal. And now that some of the initial culture shock of Tanzanian life had waned, Jeremy and I realized just how beautiful Northern Tanzania is. Mount Kilimanjaro and Mount Meru tower over fields of corn and sunflowers, a bright blue sky contrasting rolling pastures of green.
We were greeted at the airport by Nelson’s “colleague” Bryson (really just his brother…) promptly at 1:00 PM, and we proceeded to drive about an hour into Arusha, serenaded throughout the drive to soothing gangsta rap tunes. Oh, we kid! Bryson is a nice guy, and he did his best showing us points of interest as we made our way through town. Bryson didn’t quite know what to do with us, so he brought us back to Nelson’s house, where mass confusion awaited. We brought our bags in, which Nelson’s sister told us to put in “our room” around the corner. Then some Canadian volunteers arrived fresh from Zanzibar, as did Nelson, who explained that “our room” was really “their room” for the night. I would have been more alarmed about where Jeremy and I were going to be housed, except that Nelson’s sister had prepared for us a delicious meal of peas, carrots, and potatoes, which I was thoroughly enjoying during all of this planning and discussion in Swahili. Finally, Nelson explained to us that there had been a slight change of plans, and that we would not be staying with the host family whose name we had been previously given. Instead, we would be staying with “an older lady who lives by the ShopRite and other stores that Westerners enjoy.” OK, sounded good to us!
So Nelson transported us across town – which by the way, is much larger than Moshi, hence causing Jeremy and me a bit of anxiety – to the home of Mrs. Mastafu. She greeted us at her front gate, and she was exactly as Nelson described: a nice old lady who lived alone (except for a house maid) and spoke excellent English. Jeremy and I both commented to one another that we were happy to be spending a month in such a nice, quiet home. Nelson’s place was rather like a college dorm, with volunteers always coming in and out. And let’s be honest, we’re too old for all that!
Mrs. M has a very nice home for Tanzanian standards. It includes four bedrooms and cable television, a point Mrs. M made as soon as we were settled. Speaking of cable television, which we now have learned is blaring at all hours of the day except in the rare instance when the electricity is out, it is most likely that Mrs. M has the TV set to whatever cable channel is playing a WWE wrestling match. She goes crazy for that shit! Since Jeremy and I both admitted to never watching WWE, Mrs. M took great care of us by narrating each plot twist of the matches. We thought it was important to be polite and watch with her on our first night, but considering we have now been here five nights and WWE has been blaring for three of those nights, we have learned to excuse ourselves after we finish dinner and the initial bout is wrapping up.
Speaking of dinner, it’s definitely been hit or miss. On night one, we choked down a stew of bananas and beef. Bananas are a staple in this household, and Tanzania in general. However, they aren’t the glorious, sweet Chiquita bananas that taste great in a peanut butter sandwich after a long run. These bananas are grey and essentially a substitute for potatoes. They are the main starch and ingredient of the meal, and there is no other way to say it – they don’t taste good. After this first dinner, it is safe to say that Jeremy and I were terrified of the month ahead. And in five days, we’ve had banana stew twice now, the second time with fish, which was much better than the overcooked beef from Night 1. This evening I learned we would dine on banana stew again tomorrow evening, this time with pork. So, we’re looking at a rotating menu of bananas one night, something decent the next. For example, we enjoyed our “Chips Mayai” or eggs and French fries.
And the peas and carrots combination was pretty good, although not as good as Nelson’s sister’s dish! Finally, tonight we experienced rice pilaf and goat, which we ate in the traditional Tanzanian fashion, with our right hand. It actually wasn’t too bad, although I definitely made a mess!
So yes, it is safe to say that the food at home – and the television programming – are not the highlight of our first week in Arusha. Still, we are very comfortable here, and Mrs. M is really a very sweet lady. And lucky for us, there is a French wine bar and restaurant just a few minutes’ walk from here, should we ever need a crepe and a glass of Bordeaux!
We were greeted at the airport by Nelson’s “colleague” Bryson (really just his brother…) promptly at 1:00 PM, and we proceeded to drive about an hour into Arusha, serenaded throughout the drive to soothing gangsta rap tunes. Oh, we kid! Bryson is a nice guy, and he did his best showing us points of interest as we made our way through town. Bryson didn’t quite know what to do with us, so he brought us back to Nelson’s house, where mass confusion awaited. We brought our bags in, which Nelson’s sister told us to put in “our room” around the corner. Then some Canadian volunteers arrived fresh from Zanzibar, as did Nelson, who explained that “our room” was really “their room” for the night. I would have been more alarmed about where Jeremy and I were going to be housed, except that Nelson’s sister had prepared for us a delicious meal of peas, carrots, and potatoes, which I was thoroughly enjoying during all of this planning and discussion in Swahili. Finally, Nelson explained to us that there had been a slight change of plans, and that we would not be staying with the host family whose name we had been previously given. Instead, we would be staying with “an older lady who lives by the ShopRite and other stores that Westerners enjoy.” OK, sounded good to us!
So Nelson transported us across town – which by the way, is much larger than Moshi, hence causing Jeremy and me a bit of anxiety – to the home of Mrs. Mastafu. She greeted us at her front gate, and she was exactly as Nelson described: a nice old lady who lived alone (except for a house maid) and spoke excellent English. Jeremy and I both commented to one another that we were happy to be spending a month in such a nice, quiet home. Nelson’s place was rather like a college dorm, with volunteers always coming in and out. And let’s be honest, we’re too old for all that!
Mrs. M has a very nice home for Tanzanian standards. It includes four bedrooms and cable television, a point Mrs. M made as soon as we were settled. Speaking of cable television, which we now have learned is blaring at all hours of the day except in the rare instance when the electricity is out, it is most likely that Mrs. M has the TV set to whatever cable channel is playing a WWE wrestling match. She goes crazy for that shit! Since Jeremy and I both admitted to never watching WWE, Mrs. M took great care of us by narrating each plot twist of the matches. We thought it was important to be polite and watch with her on our first night, but considering we have now been here five nights and WWE has been blaring for three of those nights, we have learned to excuse ourselves after we finish dinner and the initial bout is wrapping up.
Speaking of dinner, it’s definitely been hit or miss. On night one, we choked down a stew of bananas and beef. Bananas are a staple in this household, and Tanzania in general. However, they aren’t the glorious, sweet Chiquita bananas that taste great in a peanut butter sandwich after a long run. These bananas are grey and essentially a substitute for potatoes. They are the main starch and ingredient of the meal, and there is no other way to say it – they don’t taste good. After this first dinner, it is safe to say that Jeremy and I were terrified of the month ahead. And in five days, we’ve had banana stew twice now, the second time with fish, which was much better than the overcooked beef from Night 1. This evening I learned we would dine on banana stew again tomorrow evening, this time with pork. So, we’re looking at a rotating menu of bananas one night, something decent the next. For example, we enjoyed our “Chips Mayai” or eggs and French fries.
And the peas and carrots combination was pretty good, although not as good as Nelson’s sister’s dish! Finally, tonight we experienced rice pilaf and goat, which we ate in the traditional Tanzanian fashion, with our right hand. It actually wasn’t too bad, although I definitely made a mess!
So yes, it is safe to say that the food at home – and the television programming – are not the highlight of our first week in Arusha. Still, we are very comfortable here, and Mrs. M is really a very sweet lady. And lucky for us, there is a French wine bar and restaurant just a few minutes’ walk from here, should we ever need a crepe and a glass of Bordeaux!
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