Ben, one of the volunteers, had the idea to take a photo of the corn fields when I arrived..and take them when I left. So here you go…to see what three months is equivalent to in corn. These photos were taken BEHIND the program house.
HERE’S THE BEFORE
THE AFTER:
Here are a few photos of the children I worked with:
I absolutely adored this child…Heavenlight…wanted to put him in my suitcase when I left.
Hussein (above) was an orphan…I named him the “poster child for Disneyland” because the kid couldn’t stop laughing.
Veila was brilliant in the nursery school–you can tell from her eyes.
Some volunteers brought glow sticks and the kids went WILD over them.
Another child at the Moivaro Nursery School.
If I could adopt, it would be these two children. THEY WERE ADORABLE. Rema (left) and Heavenlight (right). Wish I could have taken them home!
We dubbed this kid, “eddie murphy”–his real name…Aaron, but the nuns use to say, “ooooh, Aaroooneeeee”
As a last minute adventure, I decided to go to Moshi with my teacher's 19-year old "son" who has been kind enough throughout this whole trip, to show and invite me into his home, tour me around Arusha and explain as much as possible, why certains things are the way they are in Tanzania. As a brief background, I met Ayubu at Moivaro my second week in Tanzania and was surprised with his English speaking skills. Sure, he always says "Yeeeessss," when asked a question that requires an answer other than "yeeeeesssssssss," but he's been my Tanzanian translator, and he's very passionate about drawing, photography and his education. As his final "TOUR DE TANZANIA," he invited me to his home just outside of Moshi to meet his father, whom he's praised as being an excellent businessman. Apparently…and this may confuse many of you, he really isn't my teacher's "son." Here in Tanzania, uncles, boy cousins, etc…are all called…"brothers" or "sons." Same with the females, except, everyone is a sister. It gets really really confusing and frustrating when figuring out the family structure, because when you ask a Tanzanian how many brothers s/he has, they'll usually answer, "oooooh, so many….50 perhaps???" And that's when your mouth drops and a little chime in your head rings "not blood brothers….Karin….not blood brothers."
So at 7 this morning we set off…picked up a bus in Tengeru and made our trip to Moshi (which is "suppose" to take one hour). Arrived at Moshi and found we had to take another bus a "short distance" to a district in Moshi. This "short distance" took ONE HOUR…and then we had to take a taxi to his house. Arrival time: 10:30am. We arrive at his home and I'm expecting to see his father and step-mother…but only see an empty house and annoying little children/neighbors screaming, "Mzungu! Mzungu." We spend a good..what…hour…waiting for the family to return. In the meantime, I'm introduced to the television and I plop myself down to watch the Tanzanian version of MTV…which is quite a shocker; I'm not sure if it's because I haven't watched TV in three months, or because African women can really really really shake their bootie. We get a call from Ayubu's mother, who invites us to the family's Petrol station where she works. Now…Ayubu had mentioned to me that his father was a businessman…owning 4 petrol stations and 4 commuter buses. I was expecting a Petrol station like Mobil…but when I look back at that, I think…"Karin, you're in Tanzania, you're not suppose to expect what you're expecting." A taxi picks us up..we drive to the Petrol Station, which ends up to be a one tank station where neighboring stores pick up petrol for cooking and other activities (i.e. paint solvent, etc.) We hang out…like all Tanzanians do on Saturdays/Sundays….hang out until noon. We go back home and Ayubu tells me we must visit his other relatives. As part of this festive occasion, Ayubu and I walk to his grandmother's house to pick up his camera…we buy a roll of 36..and proceed our way through the village; stopping first at his cousin's home (click click…photos here and there), then off to another cousin's house (click, click, drink soda..click click)..then back to his home where we proceed to take nearly 28 photos posing next to the family's lemon tree, the family's car, the neighborhood wild-dog, the family's bedroom, the family's phone, the family's dismembered truck, me eating the banana stew, me holding a globe…you get the picture.
So in Africa, when someone says we must leave at 3:00pm to arrive in Arusha, I register that in my head to mean…5:00pm. At 2:57pm, Ayubu's stepmother requests that we go into town to buy me a gift. Ayubu looks at his clock, says "We must go now." But his mother shakes her head and says, "Hamna shida (no problem), we have time). We proceed for about…one hour through the village looking at four different shops before the mother decides which shop isn't ripping her off. We buy a kitenge and kanga and then proceed our way back to the home when Ayubu receives a phone call…his father is finally at home. The time? 4:00pm. So I finally get to meet Ayubu's father…the real purpose of this whole trip. At 4:25pm, his father finally comes out and we talk briefly; my Swahili isn't too grand, and his English isn't either. We finally decide it's time to leave…5:00pm. And Ayubu and I make our way back to the bus station where we wait….and wait…and wait.
To make a long story short….I arrive home at 7:30pm. And it's dark. Really dark. I figure it's probably not a good idea to be walking in the dark the day before I leave for home…so I run. Run run run run run…and then I arrived home, safe and sound. It might seem that I was annoyed…but in truth, I enjoyed it so much. It was my final goodbye to Africa…it was an experience that was a culmination of what it means to run on African Time. I saw beautiful landscape, ate authentic Tanzanian food, visited relatives who asked me to return so that they could slaughter a goat. I mean, it was a good way to end my trip here…a sort of pinnacle of Life in Tanzania.
So in these last few hours….I realize I am not ready to leave, yet. I am going to miss Tanzania very much. Three months went by so incredibly fast. I write the old volunteers to see how things are going for them in the States and they say it's hard. It's hard to talk about what we've seen. We've all done so much…from taking care of AIDS patients, building a chicken coup, a water tank system, a playground, changing diapers for orphans, dancing to Yellow Submarine with the special needs children to spending hours upon hours just…WAITING…all I can say is that this experience was undeniably the best thing in terms of making my spirit, my drive a little stronger. I feel exhausted…but in a good way. I feel like I've accomplished a lot with the help of volunteers, friends, co-workers and family…and this is empowering.
Thank you so much again for your support and love. I am off to Amsterdam tomorrow…meeting up with Greg and then we're off to Germany to see the chaos and obsession of….the WORLD CUP. Cheers to the end to quite an adventure….Nakupenda Tanzania….Kwaheri…kwaheri…kwaheri…Nitarudi.
As my final gift to my class, I put together 75 booklets, complete with a photo of each student, their painted hand print, a leaf rubbing, a math handout we completed 8 weeks ago, a new unsharpened pencil and to top it off (the cherry on the cake, I’d like to think)…A SHINY, NEW, METAL PENCIL SHARPENER!!! The books were a success…maybe too successful, because the next thing I knew, teachers and students were asking for a picture of themselves. But my students loved their gifts…handling their books with the utmost of care. I hope that these books will remain with them..or at least stay somewhat intact, so that in the future, they can look back and remember how they looked at that age, their school, and of course, remember their mzungu math teacher.As gifts for my English and kiswahili teachers, I gave each of them a kanga/kitenge wrapped up in traditional jue-style wrapping paper (origami crane included!) For the other teachers, of whom I graded countless student papers and books, I gave sugar biscuts to go with the chai they served me nearly every day.
For the classroom, I donated all the 1980’s pictures (i.e. lions, giraffes, weather, color) my mom insisted that I take with me, bought a number chart and as a FINALE, laminated/created a changeable calendar inspired by none other than my mother and my memories at Acacia school. I told the teachers that it would be the students’ job to move the box everyday, since I found my teacher always asking me what the date was. I’m not sure why I didn’t think of it sooner…an interactive calendar is ideal for learning how to count numbers and see how numbers relate in everyday things.
As for me, the teachers gave me a nice shirt and a traditional African cloth/skirt. They wrapped me up in it and took lots of photos. I did not cry, like I thought I would. But felt more relieved of my job at Moivaro. It was an intense 11 weeks at the school. Thinking of ways to get the kids to count, do math in a different sort of way was a neverending challenge. I reached my goals of teaching the kids how to add/subtract and taught them other creative ways of learning numbers (i.e. Bingo.) Most importantly, I taught them a sense of self…through their pictures and hand prints…and I hope they can take this away and be proud of who they are…because at times, the Tanzanian school system seems to take this away with their disciplinary methods.
Anyway, ONE WEEK LEFT. Unbelievable how fast it’s gone. Will be working at various other sites and well…PACKING!!! sigh…soooo fast….will want to return as soon as I can afford to. This has been QUITE the adventure…but am so happy to be spending my 26th birthday in Tanzania…
Soooooo, the swings and now a monkey bar set are officially part of the Moivaro School grounds. It was…let me just say…a very time-consuming and slightly expensive (in Tanzanian standards) project to put through. But I’m very happy to see the children swinging, laughing and even fighting for a seat to play. Only in Africa will it take a welder TWO HOURS to weld three 12 inch long metal pieces to the swing set. Because the steel is not of the best quality, Pat and I had to march our way through Arusha to find a sober-enough welder who would attach the poles on decently. I’m just going to say it: Tanzanian men are a bit sexist (I know, we’re in a male dominated world, but the response between Male: Pat and Female: Karin was astounding) Without Pat, most of the men didn’t even look at me unless they were drunk…then they would say, “This wonderful woman…this wonderful lady, Karin.” (SIGH). But after spending two full days (25 hours total) sitting and watching the welding being completed, the monkey bars and swings are a go.
Surprising, none of the children have seen monkey bars before, so when we put them up, a huge crowd of children kept asking “hii ni nini” <what is this?> After careful explanation and a sad attempt of being a monkey, I decided it best that the kids just figure it out on their own.
What I’ve learned from this experience is the following: 1) the careful step-by-step process of drying concrete 2) Being patient 3) Being ignored.or perhaps more losing patience with a loss of translation 4) Enjoying the children swinging and climbing 5) Remembering playing on my first playground at Acacia park.
As the sun was setting yesterday evening, I watched a group of 20 children playing soccer with an avocado. I thought twice whether this playground would make any sort of difference if these kids can have as much joy and fun playing with an unripened fruit. But I’m very happy that it’s completed and my hope is that it will last. Thanks to everyone again for all their help, support and love in getting three simple playground equipment UP! Am talking with an architect to see if a roof is possible for some of the unfinished classrooms. I have to say that with only two weeks left that I will TRULY TRULY miss this place. I cannot wait to return.
Just to give a quick update. I put the swings up last Friday and then revealed them to the students this morning. It was CHAOS!!! I had nearly 600 kids surrounding me and screaming to get a seat on one of the eight swings. The swing sets were designated by boys and girls…but it didn’t stop the occasional boy to push a girl off to get at least one swing in. There aren’t really any words to describe the emotional impact these swing sets had on these children. On occasion, one kid would mistakenly and obliviously walk in front of a kid who was swinging and after getting the wind knocked out of him, would laugh, stand up and queue for a seat. It was incredible (and I know I’m using this word a lot) to see the amount of laughter and screams heard on this minimalist playground. To see something so simple and something that we take advantage of be SO HUGE is an indescribable experience. I have some great video and pictures of the children’s faces…I’m sure all of you will enjoy.
THE BAD NEWS…is that I returned later on that evening with an Architect to estimate the roof of a classroom…and found one of the swing sets entirely DISMANTLED!!! Will get the news on how that happened later…just trying to build something that will be sustainable (HA!) in Africa….aaaaah, seems sometimes impossible.
Just finished my last safari in Tanzania where I traveled with two other volunteers with a traditional Masaai village just located outside of Arusha. We first made our way to a traditional Masaai Medicine Man named Doctor Julius, who showed us the different barks, leaves and other various powders that cured everything from a snake bite to menstrual cramps for the women. After we chewed on a few herbs, we drove to the grazing lands where young Masaai boys travel and apparently can stay up to two years trekking to find grass/water for the cows and sheeps they are herding.
Upon our arrival to the Masaai VIllage, we were greeted by six Masaai warriors decked out in traditional Masaai blankets and baseball caps labelled, “LA Lakers” or “Red Bulls.” They began chanting and calling the other Masaai Warriors to join…and in about two hours, a crowd of thirty Masaai Warriors formed a circle in which they chanted, jumped, and hollered for…..12 FULL HOURS!!! That’s right…they started at 3pm…and ended at 3am. The chanting is to show strength, endurance and also to celebrate any new strangers/guests into their village. During their jumping escapades and various other danceswith their tire,rubber shoes , the women of the village arrived fashionably late (as our Guide Paulo pointed out…women everywhere in the world take a long time to get ready) and began shaking their shoulders in such a way that the huge, white beaded disks which engulfed their necks teetered back and forth like circular see-saws. We watched the dancing/chanting going on until the FULL MOON rose up. And then proceeded into a small wood, mud hut (Boma) where nearly 45 people crowded and danced.
I had to crash at 9pm because I’ve fallen ill with a bit of mild bronchitis, but the chanting could be heard throughout the valley and throughout the night. It was intense, but incredibly hypnotic.
The next morning, Jera and I fetched water by balancing buckets on the tops of our heads and Mr. Patrick ended up herding a bunch of cows and bulls through the grazing lands. We wore traditional Masaai blankets which although a bit cheeky, were comfortable and extremely warm. Got some great photographs of the children and the old Masaai people.
For the Masaai..the more cows you have, the better off you are. Some men can have up to 17 wives…but our guide’s father only had five. Can’t wait to return home to research more on this group; apparently they are one of the last ethnic/cultural groups that holds onto their traditions. The tour group we went with, Masaai Wanderings, makes the effort to contribute any of their extra funds to the Nursery School in the village.
I just wanted to thank everyone for their tremendous support and enthusiasm in helping me raise money for this playground. With the help from friends, family and other fellow volunteers, I have raised nearly $1800.00!!! I have already used about $700 for a swing set and monkey bars, and hope to use the rest for a climbing wall, balls/supplies, and a possible ROOF for one of the classrooms. Thank you everyone for your kind support. It means so much to these kids and me! Have some fantastic footage of the kids swinging and fighting over the swings…it was chaos at its best….totally surreal, but incredible!
So a few volunteers and I decided to make some BINGO cards for my class and they were revealed this morning to 70 curious minds. The first round was a bit slow and unclear…but by the time I did the second and third rounds, the kids were really getting into it. Some would say, 'Teacher, teacher, please call 15" in kiswahili, others would jump up and down in their seats and whisper the number they wanted under their breath. it was absolutely adorable. Unfortunately, by the fourth round, the teacher left, and i had 50 students screaming BINGO BINGO BINGO…when their cards were barely filled up. All in all, it was a blast..it killed two hours of time, and the teacher was very thankful. Next week, will be introducing a board game i created for the students…called "Safari." But I think Bingo will be a weekly Friday activity-it lets the students identify numbers instead of reciting 1-50 from memory and provides the students with that oh-so-lovely feeling of anticipation.
I've also decided to create math books…in which in the next five weeks, students will build upon. Today they completed a connect the dot and a matching handout. I'm also going to have them do a few leaf rubbings, create a painted handprint, and do a bit of drawing of their family members…hopefully the end result will give them a sense of themselves.
ALRIGHTY…five more weeks…whew..this is going so fast!
