Yesterday evening I ended up sitting on my porch surrounded by students from all different standards. We moved from discussing differences between New York and Tanzania to asking, and in my case, answering, all manner of questions about Father Christmas. They wanted to know what he wore, making the motion of a stocking cap; if he flew (I described reindeer and even sang 'Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer'); if he had a family; where he lived; what he did the rest of the year and who made all the presents (elves). In addition, they asked whether children ever waited up to see him (we talked about leaving milk and cookies here and a girl commented that that was why he was so fat!), and how the letters the children wrote really reached Santa Claus in the North Pole? I learned that even though they had heard that Santa visits all over the world, he did not really come to Bukoba, and that they did not have, "what are the socks that presents are put in?", stockings.
After this, they wanted to compare different foods that we ate. Every single student thought that matoke (unsweetened mashed bananas) was the most delicious food in the world, and grasshoppers, which they insisted I had to try when they came in season, were a close second. According to one of my students they are lightly fried, crunchy and sweet. Before I had time question the tastiness of grasshoppers, I found myself receiving my own private Swahili lesson with about 10 teachers at once. They were all curious to find out which words I knew, and laughed when they heard me say them in Swahili!
My Swahili lesson was cut short by the gong announcing bed time, and I found myself sitting and enjoying the night. The moon is orange tonight - primeval. The night is relatively quiet, but the noises I do hear are unfamiliar, unknown and wild. Perhaps I am describing what one would stereotypically call "Africa", but the truth is, that it is completely and utterly wild and different from our American wilderness. The north woods has wildness in the unfriendly spruce, bears and moose and in the stillness and peace of knowing that the darkness contains streams, lilypadded lakes and the smell of balsam fir. The wildness here is full of bright colors, trees and flowers that I have never seen before, thistles that grow as tall as myself and trees that have inch long thorns on them. It is strange, but even the silence itself is wild and foreign, I think, because it contains the unfamiliar - I don't know what the dark is holding or how an orange moon will illuminate it.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
Graduation
Graduation was this past Friday, so all of the standards spent last week preparing songs, dances or plays to perform at the ceremony. The younger standards were very cute. Preschool chanted in unison and Standard two performed a song about different dreams that could come true if you studied hard. Each verse had a student illustrating different possible futures. The funniest was the verse where they were imagining being a bishop. This little Standard two boy made a very pronounced sign of the cross and tried to bless another student, with so much force and enthusiasm that it looked more like he was trying to knight his fellow classmate and maybe knock him out. Teacher Joyce and I were sitting next to each other dying laughing.
What I enjoyed most about watching all of the performances was the way the singing was accompanied by some form of dance that matched the rhythm of the song. I was very impressed by their coordination. Having swung dance, I know there were times when I would not have been able to keep track of footwork, hand motions and singing words! Not only was the song choreographed, but so were the entrances and exits. Some of the footwork was really neat, especially when they all performed it in unison. You could tell it was something that became more comfortable as one got older. I think Standard 1 marched on, sort of. They were not quite in a line, not at all together, but with just enough rhythm to make you realize that there was supposed to be some sort of footwork that they were all supposed to be doing!
What I enjoyed most about watching all of the performances was the way the singing was accompanied by some form of dance that matched the rhythm of the song. I was very impressed by their coordination. Having swung dance, I know there were times when I would not have been able to keep track of footwork, hand motions and singing words! Not only was the song choreographed, but so were the entrances and exits. Some of the footwork was really neat, especially when they all performed it in unison. You could tell it was something that became more comfortable as one got older. I think Standard 1 marched on, sort of. They were not quite in a line, not at all together, but with just enough rhythm to make you realize that there was supposed to be some sort of footwork that they were all supposed to be doing!
Thursday, August 19, 2010
A jungle pool, pine trees and a dip in Lake Victoria
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| Sitting by the Jungle pool. It was hard to resist not dipping my toes in. |
On Sunday I drove down with some friends to a nearby beach where I went swimming in Lake Victoria. Apparently the area has been tested for the parasite that infects the lake and was found to be clean - I certainly hope so. On the way we stopped at a small waterfall that had a stereotypical jungle pool at the bottom. Trees shaded the water allowing green light to filter through the canopy, one shaft of golden light hitting and illuminating the waterfall perfectly. I felt like I should have a vine and start swing from tree to tree like Tarzan. According to one of my friends there used to be an old Swedish pastor that swam in the pool. He apparently did it quite regularly, until one time he came face to face with a snake in the water. Needless to say, he stopped swimming there after that encounter. I would too!
One other thing about the path to this waterfall - there were pine trees! I know that most people who read this will roll their eyes at me and not find this nearly as exciting as I did, but I was so happy to discover that there are pine trees even here in Tanzania! Although I didn't have a chance to stop and see how many needles are in a bunch, I did notice that the needles were at least as long as my hand. Despite this difference from the red and white variety with which I am familiar, the smell is just the same and makes me feel at home no matter where I am. I learned later that these are actually attempts at reforestation and preventing soil erosion. According to a Denmark forester, they planted them because the area had been overfarmed and was becoming a desert - the solution was to import fast growing pine trees from, get this, New Zealand, so that the soil could recover, both nutrients and water, so that they could eventually cut them down and use the land for farming again. The biologist in me was very excited, although the tree hugger in me was very upset that any tree was going to be cut down, particularly a pine tree.
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| I have never even been to a drive-in movie, but I have been to my own private drive-in beach! |
The beach was beautiful. The sand was white. We drove the Land Rover all the way down to the edge of the sand, where we set up our blankets. We shared the beach with some curly horned cattle, some children who were swimming, (one girl in a red dress), and some fishermen, who were pulling their small wooden boats onto the shore. These men had their feet spread, lined up grasping the rope, their bodies leaning back in a sitting position as they heaved the boat onto the sand.
On a random side note, African mosquitoes fly so much more quickly than north woods mosquitoes!
The ultimate balancing act: eggs on a pikipiki
The funniest part of the day was carrying 12 eggs that I bought at the market around all evening in a plastic bag. I thought for sure that I would knock them on something and break at least one. Especially during the pikipiki (motorcycle) ride. (Motorcycles are the cheapest form of taxi in Bukoba.) I had a bag of groceries and my purse on one shoulder, the bag of eggs gripped tightly in one hand, with the other hand holding the pikipiki behind me so that I wouldn't fall off! Quite the balancing act. Amazingly enough, they all made it back safe and sound.
Two New Sidekicks
"Teacha, teacha", a small hand crept into mine and a huge smile showing small white teeth appeared the instant the words were spoken. A grin and a giggle will follow if you smile back. This student is in preschool, and I think the word "teacha" may be one of the few that he knows in English. He tagged along today as I walked around campus after my first full week at KEMPS, content to chatter away at me in Kihaya, and maybe a little bit of Kiswahili. His twin sister was his mirror, holding my other hand, although her chatter was more in English.
It is a tribute to their comfort level with me, and to mine at the school that I had these two sidekicks this afternoon. A closed door is not enough to keep them away. All evening, until dinner, and even a bit after, the door would open, a head would peer around and voice would say "Teacher". Although I am flattered, I realize that boundaries must be set, and opening my front door without knocking was one of them. I got down onto one knee so that we were eye to eye. Very slowly, in English, I said that they were not allowed to open the door, and that they needed to knock, wrapping my knuckles on the door to demonstrate. Although I wasn't sure that they understood, I said goodnight and that I would see them tomorrow, and closed the door (for the 6th time). I think it is time to come up with a good signal to use for when students are allowed to knock. While in the midst of this thought, there was a wrap at the door and two heads appeared. Half exasperated, I got up again to go close the door. But before I got there, they said "Goodnight teacher! See you tomorrow!", finishing the phrase with smiles, and closed the door. Although it is clear I need a sign of some sort for when students can come visit me, and although they still opened the door without permission, at least they had learned to knock. I took pleasure in this small triumph and sat back down on my couch.
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| Hanging out with students on my front porch. |
Hot Water and a Thoughtful Student
I managed to get hot water! I braved the initial orange water in the shower and it did eventually run clear. When water is running through the shower, it means that there was enough water to fill the water heater tank, thus meaning it is safe to turn on the heater - after half an hour I did manage to get hot water! Despite this excitement, I was unable to take a shower this evening; I was so excited to not have to boil water, but the water pressure wasn't strong enough even though the water was hot. I have yet to take an actual shower in this house. When that day comes, it will be monumental!
One other touching thing happened today. One of the students knocked on my door after school and said very quietly but it quite good English that I had asked him if he knew of any books that could help me learn Swahili, and that he had, in his possession, a book that had both English and Swahili in it. Although our previous conversation had taken place while I was sitting outside trying to learn Swahili and looking at a book (I did not ask for one), I was surprised and touched by his thoughtfulness and willingness to lend me one of his books. These children really are special. He is in Standard 4.
One other touching thing happened today. One of the students knocked on my door after school and said very quietly but it quite good English that I had asked him if he knew of any books that could help me learn Swahili, and that he had, in his possession, a book that had both English and Swahili in it. Although our previous conversation had taken place while I was sitting outside trying to learn Swahili and looking at a book (I did not ask for one), I was surprised and touched by his thoughtfulness and willingness to lend me one of his books. These children really are special. He is in Standard 4.
Chai and Introductions
As part of the school days the teachers have a ritual tea break at 10:30 every morning. The tea they drink is chai (Kelsey, you would be happy!); however, this chai was more like having a little tea with a very large amount of milk and sugar. Very good in small amounts. They also have mandazi or fried dough. I met a number of the teachers. It will be challenging to remember all of their names, I didn't even get introduced to all of them as they all seem to welcome you profusely, but to never tell you their name. My name is very funny thus far. For some reason Tanzanians seem to add "ie" to many English words that do not have that ending, and yet my name, which ends in an "ie" is pronounced "Stephan" or, if I am lucky, "Stephania".
Arriving in Bukoba
On August 5 we flew from Arusha to Mwanza. Our flight to Bukoba was supposed to leave Mwanza at 1:45pm, and while our trip thus far had been fabulously smooth, our luck was not to hold. At 2pm, although our bags had been loaded, men were on top of the plane, screw drivers in hand tinkering away. I must admit that it did not exactly inspire confidence. By 3pm it had been announced that the plane could not fly that day - they had run into a bird on the last trip and dented one of the wings. Fortunately we were lucky and did not have to spend the night in Mwanza (Mom's stories of cockroaches leapt immediately to mind), and by 5pm we were finally on our way to Bukoba, 7hrs after we arrived in Mwanza. The flight to Bukoba was 45 minutes.
Seated in the front row of a 12 passenger plane was an experience. I have never been in such a small plane. The small window frames rattled and vibrated as the front propeller roared to life, and the whole tiny structure bobbed like its 3 wheels were on shock absorbers as it gained speed, moving down the runway towards the shore of a blue and vast Lake Victoria. I did have a moment's thought as to whether we were going to take off in time or really end up in the lake - I guess I have never been able to see the view of the pilot from the cockpit before - I could almost have been sitting next to him there was so little leg room. The boats on the water shrank in size as we climbed higher and higher, to a cruising altitude of 10,000 feet if I read the altitude off the dashboard correctly! The coast of the lake became a vast panoramic with islands and inlets and all the coves of the journey in view. Seen from the map, Lake Victoria appears to be a rather circular uninteresting spot of blue in a very large continent. But this view, from the small window of a 12 passenger plane, exposed all of its mystery without divulging its secrets.
As we approached Bukoba we left the lake and headed inland making a circle around the entire town. Banana trees, tons of them came into view, their large green oblong leaves contrasting sharply with the red dirt. We touched down at the Bukoba airport, a single landing strip and a small building that could be described as equivalent to a small New England train station. The runway is dirt, red dirt, and there are no lights on the landing strip.
I live at the school, on top of the ridge, overlooking the lake and the town. Driving up in the Land Rover I had forgotten how large the hill really is, and there was one point where I wondered whether we might end up going backwards as the gears shifted. The road was narrow, twisting and turning, and although the rock walls from England were missing, the inability to see if oncoming traffic was coming made me want to reach for the horn at every turn.
When we reached KEMPS, I met a crowd of smiling faces, a bit shy but eager, crowded around my door. They had even put a sign of welcome on my door. It said "Welcome Dear Aaron and Stephanie at KEMPS August 2010".
Seated in the front row of a 12 passenger plane was an experience. I have never been in such a small plane. The small window frames rattled and vibrated as the front propeller roared to life, and the whole tiny structure bobbed like its 3 wheels were on shock absorbers as it gained speed, moving down the runway towards the shore of a blue and vast Lake Victoria. I did have a moment's thought as to whether we were going to take off in time or really end up in the lake - I guess I have never been able to see the view of the pilot from the cockpit before - I could almost have been sitting next to him there was so little leg room. The boats on the water shrank in size as we climbed higher and higher, to a cruising altitude of 10,000 feet if I read the altitude off the dashboard correctly! The coast of the lake became a vast panoramic with islands and inlets and all the coves of the journey in view. Seen from the map, Lake Victoria appears to be a rather circular uninteresting spot of blue in a very large continent. But this view, from the small window of a 12 passenger plane, exposed all of its mystery without divulging its secrets.
As we approached Bukoba we left the lake and headed inland making a circle around the entire town. Banana trees, tons of them came into view, their large green oblong leaves contrasting sharply with the red dirt. We touched down at the Bukoba airport, a single landing strip and a small building that could be described as equivalent to a small New England train station. The runway is dirt, red dirt, and there are no lights on the landing strip.
I live at the school, on top of the ridge, overlooking the lake and the town. Driving up in the Land Rover I had forgotten how large the hill really is, and there was one point where I wondered whether we might end up going backwards as the gears shifted. The road was narrow, twisting and turning, and although the rock walls from England were missing, the inability to see if oncoming traffic was coming made me want to reach for the horn at every turn.
When we reached KEMPS, I met a crowd of smiling faces, a bit shy but eager, crowded around my door. They had even put a sign of welcome on my door. It said "Welcome Dear Aaron and Stephanie at KEMPS August 2010".
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