Tuesday, August 31, 2004
Over the weekend, I was riding my bicycle through the countryside and wondering again at how fertile the land appears, and how under-utilized. Granted, we are in the dry season and everything is brown now. But still, there is a good growing season for six months, and that is a longer growing season than most of the US. The difference here is that the off-season has dust instead of snow. In the area where I was riding there were even the remnants of an extensive irrigation system apparently installed and maintained by a German organization until they left, years ago. And the agriculture here is all done by hand, no animals are used. The plowing is done with big hoes. Backbreaking!
So I was looking at this land and thinking of the Amish in Lancaster County – what they would accomplish with their mules and horses and care for the land. They would make this place BLOOM!!! And the thought of those black and grey buggies clattering over the dirt roads is precious. The buggies would not need those triangular reflectors or the battery-powered headlights here. The Tanzanians would not know what to make of it.
Mennonites are fairly well represented among all the proselytizers who came here from the north. You can find Mennonite churches scattered all through Tanzania. With the close relationship between at least some Mennonites and Amish, and the pressure of development and tourism in Lancaster County, I wonder how it is that the Amish have not found Africa a good place for migration and settlement.
So I was looking at this land and thinking of the Amish in Lancaster County – what they would accomplish with their mules and horses and care for the land. They would make this place BLOOM!!! And the thought of those black and grey buggies clattering over the dirt roads is precious. The buggies would not need those triangular reflectors or the battery-powered headlights here. The Tanzanians would not know what to make of it.
Mennonites are fairly well represented among all the proselytizers who came here from the north. You can find Mennonite churches scattered all through Tanzania. With the close relationship between at least some Mennonites and Amish, and the pressure of development and tourism in Lancaster County, I wonder how it is that the Amish have not found Africa a good place for migration and settlement.
Over the weekend, I was riding my bicycle through the countryside and wondering again at how fertile the land appears, and how under-utilized. Granted, we are in the dry season and everything is brown now. But still, there is a good growing season for six months, and that is a longer growing season than most of the US. The difference here is that the off-season has dust instead of snow. In the area where I was riding there were even the remnants of an extensive irrigation system apparently installed and maintained by a German organization until they left, years ago. And the agriculture here is all done by hand, no animals are used. The plowing is done with big hoes. Backbreaking!
So I was looking at this land and thinking of the Amish in Lancaster County – what they would accomplish with their mules and horses and care for the land. They would make this place BLOOM!!! And the thought of those black and grey buggies clattering over the dirt roads is precious. The buggies would not need those triangular reflectors or the battery-powered headlights here. The Tanzanians would not know what to make of it.
Mennonites are fairly well represented among all the proselytizers who came here from the north. You can find Mennonite churches scattered all through Tanzania. With the close relationship between at least some Mennonites and Amish, and the pressure of development and tourism in Lancaster County, I wonder how it is that the Amish have not found Africa a good place for migration and settlement.
So I was looking at this land and thinking of the Amish in Lancaster County – what they would accomplish with their mules and horses and care for the land. They would make this place BLOOM!!! And the thought of those black and grey buggies clattering over the dirt roads is precious. The buggies would not need those triangular reflectors or the battery-powered headlights here. The Tanzanians would not know what to make of it.
Mennonites are fairly well represented among all the proselytizers who came here from the north. You can find Mennonite churches scattered all through Tanzania. With the close relationship between at least some Mennonites and Amish, and the pressure of development and tourism in Lancaster County, I wonder how it is that the Amish have not found Africa a good place for migration and settlement.
Sunday, August 29 - Can it really be the end of August already?
Finally, I am able to make a good cup of coffee. You would suppose that since Kenya and Tanzania are renowned for the best coffee in the world, it would not be a problem here. But everyone here drinks chai instead – chai is strong tea that is absolutely saturated with sugar. Maybe black (chai rangi), maybe not (chai na maziwa). I guess the British ruined the place.
If you try to buy coffee in a store or order it in a restaurant, you get powdered instant coffee that tastes and acts like decaffeinated. It was the same kind of story in Guatemala, actually. Strange. You can buy coffee beans in a metallized plastic bag though, from one of the two groceries in town that caters to us gringos (mazungus, here. Sometimes when I am riding my bike to town, little kids set up a chorus of Mazungu, Mazungu, Mazungu... I smile, but I hate it. Sometimes if there are no adults around I feel better by telling them to go fuck themselves, knowing they won’t possibly understand it.).
Anyway, when I was in the US I made sure to bring back my Cusinart so I could grind coffee beans and a French press to make the good stuff. Well, the Cusinart chops great and makes wonderful smoothies with avocado and banana but it won’t grind, so that didn’t work. I tried various types of mortar and pestle from the market, but they didn’t work either. I think they are used mainly for squashing garlic and the bigger ones for smashing corn. Finally I found an Indian store that actually sells coffee grinders. That was Step One. But the French press still made dishwater. My latest discovery is that if I grind the coffee, dump it in a pot with water and boil it for five minutes, then put it through a strainer, I get it the way I like it! Life is good.
My school headmaster suggested that Mama Anna Unpronounceable would be a good person for my project’s Board of Directors. I had a great conversation with her on Friday. She is enthusiastic, understands the problems I ran into, and feels that the project will run pretty easily if I get powerful local people on the Board and do that first. Further, she confirms that my headmaster is well connected and so should be on the Board, and that he can also provide introductions to other potential Board members. And we agreed that with the programs that we now know are available, we no longer need expensive university graduates in order to create a program from scratch. That cuts the cost of the project in about half!
Had to chase cows out of what is left of my garden today. Several times! I learned that cows don’t move any faster even if you kick them or throw stones at them. They must not have any nerve endings. Goats weren’t bad enough?
Finally, I am able to make a good cup of coffee. You would suppose that since Kenya and Tanzania are renowned for the best coffee in the world, it would not be a problem here. But everyone here drinks chai instead – chai is strong tea that is absolutely saturated with sugar. Maybe black (chai rangi), maybe not (chai na maziwa). I guess the British ruined the place.
If you try to buy coffee in a store or order it in a restaurant, you get powdered instant coffee that tastes and acts like decaffeinated. It was the same kind of story in Guatemala, actually. Strange. You can buy coffee beans in a metallized plastic bag though, from one of the two groceries in town that caters to us gringos (mazungus, here. Sometimes when I am riding my bike to town, little kids set up a chorus of Mazungu, Mazungu, Mazungu... I smile, but I hate it. Sometimes if there are no adults around I feel better by telling them to go fuck themselves, knowing they won’t possibly understand it.).
Anyway, when I was in the US I made sure to bring back my Cusinart so I could grind coffee beans and a French press to make the good stuff. Well, the Cusinart chops great and makes wonderful smoothies with avocado and banana but it won’t grind, so that didn’t work. I tried various types of mortar and pestle from the market, but they didn’t work either. I think they are used mainly for squashing garlic and the bigger ones for smashing corn. Finally I found an Indian store that actually sells coffee grinders. That was Step One. But the French press still made dishwater. My latest discovery is that if I grind the coffee, dump it in a pot with water and boil it for five minutes, then put it through a strainer, I get it the way I like it! Life is good.
My school headmaster suggested that Mama Anna Unpronounceable would be a good person for my project’s Board of Directors. I had a great conversation with her on Friday. She is enthusiastic, understands the problems I ran into, and feels that the project will run pretty easily if I get powerful local people on the Board and do that first. Further, she confirms that my headmaster is well connected and so should be on the Board, and that he can also provide introductions to other potential Board members. And we agreed that with the programs that we now know are available, we no longer need expensive university graduates in order to create a program from scratch. That cuts the cost of the project in about half!
Had to chase cows out of what is left of my garden today. Several times! I learned that cows don’t move any faster even if you kick them or throw stones at them. They must not have any nerve endings. Goats weren’t bad enough?
Sunday, August 29 - Can it really be the end of August already?
Finally, I am able to make a good cup of coffee. You would suppose that since Kenya and Tanzania are renowned for the best coffee in the world, it would not be a problem here. But everyone here drinks chai instead – chai is strong tea that is absolutely saturated with sugar. Maybe black (chai rangi), maybe not (chai na maziwa). I guess the British ruined the place.
If you try to buy coffee in a store or order it in a restaurant, you get powdered instant coffee that tastes and acts like decaffeinated. It was the same kind of story in Guatemala, actually. Strange. You can buy coffee beans in a metallized plastic bag though, from one of the two groceries in town that caters to us gringos (mazungus, here. Sometimes when I am riding my bike to town, little kids set up a chorus of Mazungu, Mazungu, Mazungu... I smile, but I hate it. Sometimes if there are no adults around I feel better by telling them to go fuck themselves, knowing they won’t possibly understand it.).
Anyway, when I was in the US I made sure to bring back my Cusinart so I could grind coffee beans and a French press to make the good stuff. Well, the Cusinart chops great and makes wonderful smoothies with avocado and banana but it won’t grind, so that didn’t work. I tried various types of mortar and pestle from the market, but they didn’t work either. I think they are used mainly for squashing garlic and the bigger ones for smashing corn. Finally I found an Indian store that actually sells coffee grinders. That was Step One. But the French press still made dishwater. My latest discovery is that if I grind the coffee, dump it in a pot with water and boil it for five minutes, then put it through a strainer, I get it the way I like it! Life is good.
My school headmaster suggested that Mama Anna Unpronounceable would be a good person for my project’s Board of Directors. I had a great conversation with her on Friday. She is enthusiastic, understands the problems I ran into, and feels that the project will run pretty easily if I get powerful local people on the Board and do that first. Further, she confirms that my headmaster is well connected and so should be on the Board, and that he can also provide introductions to other potential Board members. And we agreed that with the programs that we now know are available, we no longer need expensive university graduates in order to create a program from scratch. That cuts the cost of the project in about half!
Had to chase cows out of what is left of my garden today. Several times! I learned that cows don’t move any faster even if you kick them or throw stones at them. They must not have any nerve endings. Goats weren’t bad enough?
Finally, I am able to make a good cup of coffee. You would suppose that since Kenya and Tanzania are renowned for the best coffee in the world, it would not be a problem here. But everyone here drinks chai instead – chai is strong tea that is absolutely saturated with sugar. Maybe black (chai rangi), maybe not (chai na maziwa). I guess the British ruined the place.
If you try to buy coffee in a store or order it in a restaurant, you get powdered instant coffee that tastes and acts like decaffeinated. It was the same kind of story in Guatemala, actually. Strange. You can buy coffee beans in a metallized plastic bag though, from one of the two groceries in town that caters to us gringos (mazungus, here. Sometimes when I am riding my bike to town, little kids set up a chorus of Mazungu, Mazungu, Mazungu... I smile, but I hate it. Sometimes if there are no adults around I feel better by telling them to go fuck themselves, knowing they won’t possibly understand it.).
Anyway, when I was in the US I made sure to bring back my Cusinart so I could grind coffee beans and a French press to make the good stuff. Well, the Cusinart chops great and makes wonderful smoothies with avocado and banana but it won’t grind, so that didn’t work. I tried various types of mortar and pestle from the market, but they didn’t work either. I think they are used mainly for squashing garlic and the bigger ones for smashing corn. Finally I found an Indian store that actually sells coffee grinders. That was Step One. But the French press still made dishwater. My latest discovery is that if I grind the coffee, dump it in a pot with water and boil it for five minutes, then put it through a strainer, I get it the way I like it! Life is good.
My school headmaster suggested that Mama Anna Unpronounceable would be a good person for my project’s Board of Directors. I had a great conversation with her on Friday. She is enthusiastic, understands the problems I ran into, and feels that the project will run pretty easily if I get powerful local people on the Board and do that first. Further, she confirms that my headmaster is well connected and so should be on the Board, and that he can also provide introductions to other potential Board members. And we agreed that with the programs that we now know are available, we no longer need expensive university graduates in order to create a program from scratch. That cuts the cost of the project in about half!
Had to chase cows out of what is left of my garden today. Several times! I learned that cows don’t move any faster even if you kick them or throw stones at them. They must not have any nerve endings. Goats weren’t bad enough?
Sunday, August 29, 2004
Thursday eve, 26 August
I got a letter today:
Att: Le Roy Ziormey,
I received two letters from “Arlene Stauffer.” This letters seems to be misplaced to Our Box number, which reads Mwanga Kilimanjaro Region. I tried to make contact every where in our district (Mwanga), if I can find the guy called such a name but I failed. “All in vain.”
So I’m not tired, I try again to imagine if is possible to be Mwanza instead of Mwanga. Maybe post office is the One who misread/confuse.
Even if I decide to return it to the post office, the same mistake will appear. They can lost all the letters. Wishing you all the best, Esther Madio.
<<<< 0 >>>>
So now I know why I haven’t had any letters from my sister in a long time. I had heard that sometimes packages destined for Tanzania end up in Tasmania, but Mwanga instead of Mwanza is new to me. I didn’t even know there IS a Mwanga.
Life is good again. I finally bit the bullet and pulled the plug on Skills For Life Tanzania! I’d really been quite distressed for the past two weeks or so, trying to pull it through. Having made the decision, I feel like a big weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I didn’t realize how stressed I had been, trying to pull things together.
The final straw was the Peace Corps directive that I was not to sign the Memo of Agreement with Kuleana Center for Children’s Rights. But the memo was really the touchstone of the operation.
I spent a good bit of effort writing a postmortem report on the project: The Plans, Results, and Lessons Learned. It helped me a lot, thinking through the whole thing.
The good things were the tremendous amount of support and encouragement I received in support of the project, and the excellent course materials I discovered to help construct the course curriculum. Tanzania really DOES need this kind of a program, and they recognize and appreciate that! It seems to have touched a nerve.
The bad stuff? When my Instructors left to their homes for a month’s vacation all the development work fell to me, and it was too much. And it was a mistake to concentrate on the operational aspects of the project instead of securing a Board of Directors or Advisors very early on. Then there was that Peace Corps Directive that blindsided me, and that was that.
Hopefully, I can learn from this experience, clarify how the Peace Corps expects me to work, and get the project back on track for early 2005 – with a functioning Board of Directors before anything else happens. Live and learn.
I got a letter today:
Att: Le Roy Ziormey,
I received two letters from “Arlene Stauffer.” This letters seems to be misplaced to Our Box number, which reads Mwanga Kilimanjaro Region. I tried to make contact every where in our district (Mwanga), if I can find the guy called such a name but I failed. “All in vain.”
So I’m not tired, I try again to imagine if is possible to be Mwanza instead of Mwanga. Maybe post office is the One who misread/confuse.
Even if I decide to return it to the post office, the same mistake will appear. They can lost all the letters. Wishing you all the best, Esther Madio.
<<<< 0 >>>>
So now I know why I haven’t had any letters from my sister in a long time. I had heard that sometimes packages destined for Tanzania end up in Tasmania, but Mwanga instead of Mwanza is new to me. I didn’t even know there IS a Mwanga.
Life is good again. I finally bit the bullet and pulled the plug on Skills For Life Tanzania! I’d really been quite distressed for the past two weeks or so, trying to pull it through. Having made the decision, I feel like a big weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I didn’t realize how stressed I had been, trying to pull things together.
The final straw was the Peace Corps directive that I was not to sign the Memo of Agreement with Kuleana Center for Children’s Rights. But the memo was really the touchstone of the operation.
I spent a good bit of effort writing a postmortem report on the project: The Plans, Results, and Lessons Learned. It helped me a lot, thinking through the whole thing.
The good things were the tremendous amount of support and encouragement I received in support of the project, and the excellent course materials I discovered to help construct the course curriculum. Tanzania really DOES need this kind of a program, and they recognize and appreciate that! It seems to have touched a nerve.
The bad stuff? When my Instructors left to their homes for a month’s vacation all the development work fell to me, and it was too much. And it was a mistake to concentrate on the operational aspects of the project instead of securing a Board of Directors or Advisors very early on. Then there was that Peace Corps Directive that blindsided me, and that was that.
Hopefully, I can learn from this experience, clarify how the Peace Corps expects me to work, and get the project back on track for early 2005 – with a functioning Board of Directors before anything else happens. Live and learn.
Thursday eve, 26 August
I got a letter today:
Att: Le Roy Ziormey,
I received two letters from “Arlene Stauffer.” This letters seems to be misplaced to Our Box number, which reads Mwanga Kilimanjaro Region. I tried to make contact every where in our district (Mwanga), if I can find the guy called such a name but I failed. “All in vain.”
So I’m not tired, I try again to imagine if is possible to be Mwanza instead of Mwanga. Maybe post office is the One who misread/confuse.
Even if I decide to return it to the post office, the same mistake will appear. They can lost all the letters. Wishing you all the best, Esther Madio.
<<<< 0 >>>>
So now I know why I haven’t had any letters from my sister in a long time. I had heard that sometimes packages destined for Tanzania end up in Tasmania, but Mwanga instead of Mwanza is new to me. I didn’t even know there IS a Mwanga.
Life is good again. I finally bit the bullet and pulled the plug on Skills For Life Tanzania! I’d really been quite distressed for the past two weeks or so, trying to pull it through. Having made the decision, I feel like a big weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I didn’t realize how stressed I had been, trying to pull things together.
The final straw was the Peace Corps directive that I was not to sign the Memo of Agreement with Kuleana Center for Children’s Rights. But the memo was really the touchstone of the operation.
I spent a good bit of effort writing a postmortem report on the project: The Plans, Results, and Lessons Learned. It helped me a lot, thinking through the whole thing.
The good things were the tremendous amount of support and encouragement I received in support of the project, and the excellent course materials I discovered to help construct the course curriculum. Tanzania really DOES need this kind of a program, and they recognize and appreciate that! It seems to have touched a nerve.
The bad stuff? When my Instructors left to their homes for a month’s vacation all the development work fell to me, and it was too much. And it was a mistake to concentrate on the operational aspects of the project instead of securing a Board of Directors or Advisors very early on. Then there was that Peace Corps Directive that blindsided me, and that was that.
Hopefully, I can learn from this experience, clarify how the Peace Corps expects me to work, and get the project back on track for early 2005 – with a functioning Board of Directors before anything else happens. Live and learn.
I got a letter today:
Att: Le Roy Ziormey,
I received two letters from “Arlene Stauffer.” This letters seems to be misplaced to Our Box number, which reads Mwanga Kilimanjaro Region. I tried to make contact every where in our district (Mwanga), if I can find the guy called such a name but I failed. “All in vain.”
So I’m not tired, I try again to imagine if is possible to be Mwanza instead of Mwanga. Maybe post office is the One who misread/confuse.
Even if I decide to return it to the post office, the same mistake will appear. They can lost all the letters. Wishing you all the best, Esther Madio.
<<<< 0 >>>>
So now I know why I haven’t had any letters from my sister in a long time. I had heard that sometimes packages destined for Tanzania end up in Tasmania, but Mwanga instead of Mwanza is new to me. I didn’t even know there IS a Mwanga.
Life is good again. I finally bit the bullet and pulled the plug on Skills For Life Tanzania! I’d really been quite distressed for the past two weeks or so, trying to pull it through. Having made the decision, I feel like a big weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I didn’t realize how stressed I had been, trying to pull things together.
The final straw was the Peace Corps directive that I was not to sign the Memo of Agreement with Kuleana Center for Children’s Rights. But the memo was really the touchstone of the operation.
I spent a good bit of effort writing a postmortem report on the project: The Plans, Results, and Lessons Learned. It helped me a lot, thinking through the whole thing.
The good things were the tremendous amount of support and encouragement I received in support of the project, and the excellent course materials I discovered to help construct the course curriculum. Tanzania really DOES need this kind of a program, and they recognize and appreciate that! It seems to have touched a nerve.
The bad stuff? When my Instructors left to their homes for a month’s vacation all the development work fell to me, and it was too much. And it was a mistake to concentrate on the operational aspects of the project instead of securing a Board of Directors or Advisors very early on. Then there was that Peace Corps Directive that blindsided me, and that was that.
Hopefully, I can learn from this experience, clarify how the Peace Corps expects me to work, and get the project back on track for early 2005 – with a functioning Board of Directors before anything else happens. Live and learn.
Sunday, August 22, 2004
Skills For Life Tanzania. Again, I did not sleep much last night.
I feel very alone. Still no prospects for the Board of Directors. No money and no mail solicitation campaign in the immediate future. Now, on top of that, I have been called to task and so feel like I have been constrained the by Peace Corps – Volunteers may not sign contracts, agreements etc. on behalf of the Peace Corps (Sec. 2.20 of the PC Handbook). Volunteers may “advise” but not “represent” an organization, and cannot be a decision-maker (Sec. 2.4).
So the key Memorandum of Agreement to have Kuleana handle the accounts and provide classroom space for SFLTz is now twisting in the breeze.
I see the concern, I think, and believe I could put it to rest because I would not on my life sign anything that commits the Peace Corps and I am creating a program, not serving an organization. But it would take persuasion, discussion and time to clarify the ground rules. And time not only costs momentum, it risks loss of the university housing and the participation of Peter and Samwel who are without jobs meanwhile.
I feel blindsided. I think I did everything I could to keep the Peace Corps advised of my activities and plans, even in writing. Lord, PC/Washington has even been supplying me with materials and contacts! I talked about the program to everybody assembled at Morogorro, and visited other programs while I was in Dar with help from the PC. It seems late to hit this bump in the road.
And that is life. Shit happens.
It feels like the decision on the next step is on my shoulders and something needs to happen right now or it will all fall apart. This is a dangerous feeling and a dangerous time. It should not be all resting on me, and deadlines are rarely fatal. I have to look at what is my personal investment in this – why do I feel that only I can lead this project? Have I made it a personal power trip?
Suppose I did give leadership over to Paul – or Samwel or Peter. I do not have much confidence in them as leaders, but could I “advise” them through the program and into an expanded followup stage? Would the Rotary, the ExIm Bank and Kuleana support their leadership as they have said they will support mine?
Would I give Paul or Samwel or Peter as much energy and support for the program as I would put into it if I were leading it? Frankly --- no. Maybe that is a telling answer. But it is up to the leader and not the advisor to seek out and develop the contacts, frame the agreements and decisions, maintain the vision and have the sleepless nights.
So, now?
I think it is time to let it all just rest for a day.
Still.... How is it that PC put together a whole program for teaching Basic Business Skills for Semi-Literate Farmers in Zambia in 2002 without making decisions? Or how did Sarah Erdmann teach medical technicians, raise money for a medical clinic, collect and disburse the money to build it without taking charge of something. For that matter, how are PCVs expected to organize HIV/AIDS conferences without directing it, or making decisions? Is it all just a matter of semantics?
I feel very alone. Still no prospects for the Board of Directors. No money and no mail solicitation campaign in the immediate future. Now, on top of that, I have been called to task and so feel like I have been constrained the by Peace Corps – Volunteers may not sign contracts, agreements etc. on behalf of the Peace Corps (Sec. 2.20 of the PC Handbook). Volunteers may “advise” but not “represent” an organization, and cannot be a decision-maker (Sec. 2.4).
So the key Memorandum of Agreement to have Kuleana handle the accounts and provide classroom space for SFLTz is now twisting in the breeze.
I see the concern, I think, and believe I could put it to rest because I would not on my life sign anything that commits the Peace Corps and I am creating a program, not serving an organization. But it would take persuasion, discussion and time to clarify the ground rules. And time not only costs momentum, it risks loss of the university housing and the participation of Peter and Samwel who are without jobs meanwhile.
I feel blindsided. I think I did everything I could to keep the Peace Corps advised of my activities and plans, even in writing. Lord, PC/Washington has even been supplying me with materials and contacts! I talked about the program to everybody assembled at Morogorro, and visited other programs while I was in Dar with help from the PC. It seems late to hit this bump in the road.
And that is life. Shit happens.
It feels like the decision on the next step is on my shoulders and something needs to happen right now or it will all fall apart. This is a dangerous feeling and a dangerous time. It should not be all resting on me, and deadlines are rarely fatal. I have to look at what is my personal investment in this – why do I feel that only I can lead this project? Have I made it a personal power trip?
Suppose I did give leadership over to Paul – or Samwel or Peter. I do not have much confidence in them as leaders, but could I “advise” them through the program and into an expanded followup stage? Would the Rotary, the ExIm Bank and Kuleana support their leadership as they have said they will support mine?
Would I give Paul or Samwel or Peter as much energy and support for the program as I would put into it if I were leading it? Frankly --- no. Maybe that is a telling answer. But it is up to the leader and not the advisor to seek out and develop the contacts, frame the agreements and decisions, maintain the vision and have the sleepless nights.
So, now?
I think it is time to let it all just rest for a day.
Still.... How is it that PC put together a whole program for teaching Basic Business Skills for Semi-Literate Farmers in Zambia in 2002 without making decisions? Or how did Sarah Erdmann teach medical technicians, raise money for a medical clinic, collect and disburse the money to build it without taking charge of something. For that matter, how are PCVs expected to organize HIV/AIDS conferences without directing it, or making decisions? Is it all just a matter of semantics?
Skills For Life Tanzania. Again, I did not sleep much last night.
I feel very alone. Still no prospects for the Board of Directors. No money and no mail solicitation campaign in the immediate future. Now, on top of that, I have been called to task and so feel like I have been constrained the by Peace Corps – Volunteers may not sign contracts, agreements etc. on behalf of the Peace Corps (Sec. 2.20 of the PC Handbook). Volunteers may “advise” but not “represent” an organization, and cannot be a decision-maker (Sec. 2.4).
So the key Memorandum of Agreement to have Kuleana handle the accounts and provide classroom space for SFLTz is now twisting in the breeze.
I see the concern, I think, and believe I could put it to rest because I would not on my life sign anything that commits the Peace Corps and I am creating a program, not serving an organization. But it would take persuasion, discussion and time to clarify the ground rules. And time not only costs momentum, it risks loss of the university housing and the participation of Peter and Samwel who are without jobs meanwhile.
I feel blindsided. I think I did everything I could to keep the Peace Corps advised of my activities and plans, even in writing. Lord, PC/Washington has even been supplying me with materials and contacts! I talked about the program to everybody assembled at Morogorro, and visited other programs while I was in Dar with help from the PC. It seems late to hit this bump in the road.
And that is life. Shit happens.
It feels like the decision on the next step is on my shoulders and something needs to happen right now or it will all fall apart. This is a dangerous feeling and a dangerous time. It should not be all resting on me, and deadlines are rarely fatal. I have to look at what is my personal investment in this – why do I feel that only I can lead this project? Have I made it a personal power trip?
Suppose I did give leadership over to Paul – or Samwel or Peter. I do not have much confidence in them as leaders, but could I “advise” them through the program and into an expanded followup stage? Would the Rotary, the ExIm Bank and Kuleana support their leadership as they have said they will support mine?
Would I give Paul or Samwel or Peter as much energy and support for the program as I would put into it if I were leading it? Frankly --- no. Maybe that is a telling answer. But it is up to the leader and not the advisor to seek out and develop the contacts, frame the agreements and decisions, maintain the vision and have the sleepless nights.
So, now?
I think it is time to let it all just rest for a day.
Still.... How is it that PC put together a whole program for teaching Basic Business Skills for Semi-Literate Farmers in Zambia in 2002 without making decisions? Or how did Sarah Erdmann teach medical technicians, raise money for a medical clinic, collect and disburse the money to build it without taking charge of something. For that matter, how are PCVs expected to organize HIV/AIDS conferences without directing it, or making decisions? Is it all just a matter of semantics?
I feel very alone. Still no prospects for the Board of Directors. No money and no mail solicitation campaign in the immediate future. Now, on top of that, I have been called to task and so feel like I have been constrained the by Peace Corps – Volunteers may not sign contracts, agreements etc. on behalf of the Peace Corps (Sec. 2.20 of the PC Handbook). Volunteers may “advise” but not “represent” an organization, and cannot be a decision-maker (Sec. 2.4).
So the key Memorandum of Agreement to have Kuleana handle the accounts and provide classroom space for SFLTz is now twisting in the breeze.
I see the concern, I think, and believe I could put it to rest because I would not on my life sign anything that commits the Peace Corps and I am creating a program, not serving an organization. But it would take persuasion, discussion and time to clarify the ground rules. And time not only costs momentum, it risks loss of the university housing and the participation of Peter and Samwel who are without jobs meanwhile.
I feel blindsided. I think I did everything I could to keep the Peace Corps advised of my activities and plans, even in writing. Lord, PC/Washington has even been supplying me with materials and contacts! I talked about the program to everybody assembled at Morogorro, and visited other programs while I was in Dar with help from the PC. It seems late to hit this bump in the road.
And that is life. Shit happens.
It feels like the decision on the next step is on my shoulders and something needs to happen right now or it will all fall apart. This is a dangerous feeling and a dangerous time. It should not be all resting on me, and deadlines are rarely fatal. I have to look at what is my personal investment in this – why do I feel that only I can lead this project? Have I made it a personal power trip?
Suppose I did give leadership over to Paul – or Samwel or Peter. I do not have much confidence in them as leaders, but could I “advise” them through the program and into an expanded followup stage? Would the Rotary, the ExIm Bank and Kuleana support their leadership as they have said they will support mine?
Would I give Paul or Samwel or Peter as much energy and support for the program as I would put into it if I were leading it? Frankly --- no. Maybe that is a telling answer. But it is up to the leader and not the advisor to seek out and develop the contacts, frame the agreements and decisions, maintain the vision and have the sleepless nights.
So, now?
I think it is time to let it all just rest for a day.
Still.... How is it that PC put together a whole program for teaching Basic Business Skills for Semi-Literate Farmers in Zambia in 2002 without making decisions? Or how did Sarah Erdmann teach medical technicians, raise money for a medical clinic, collect and disburse the money to build it without taking charge of something. For that matter, how are PCVs expected to organize HIV/AIDS conferences without directing it, or making decisions? Is it all just a matter of semantics?
Monday, August 16, 2004
Sunday, August 15
Two students appeared at my door tonight as I was getting ready to cook dinner for myself – boiled potatoes and cabbage with some fried, spiced eggplant on the side. Hey, it beats ugali and beans. The students were both from Form-IV. I teach only Form-III. The one student had been part of our chemistry exhibition last week and he was there to introduce his friend who had an unpronounceable name. I’ll call him Juma. Juma is a handsome kid, solid, looks like he should be leading the varsity wrestling team if there was one at Nsumba. But he doesn’t know English very well and his friend had to do quite a bit of translation. This is a bit troublesome for a Form-IV student – I expect my Form-IIIs to follow my learned classroom dissertations with understanding and I think they do for the most part. Form-IVs should be even better.
As could be expected, Juma’s problem had to do with money. The headmaster is cracking down and insisting that it is time now for school fees to be paid in full. The amount Juma’s parents came up with was Ts10,000 shy He is free to take off to visit his parents on school time to get the rest, but he says they don’t have it, and anyway it would cost him Ts7,000 just to go there and back. Says he lives in Mara, so that sounds about right. Maybe as a student he could do it for Ts5,000, but that is quibbling. I’ve never seen kids hitchhiking here, but I do suspect that catching a free ride on the back of a truck is often possible. But he is trying to “loan” the money from various people and I was on the top of his list. Hey, Americans are rich, right? By Tanzanian standards, we sure are – although here we are on the Peace Corps dole, so hopefully they know this by reputation and not by observation. Still, here I am with my laptop, shortwave radio, magazines, quality bicycle, and living in the nicest house in the neighborhood.
So I ask Juma what kind of grades he has been getting. From his report, they are not great, but pretty good. Of course I have no way of confirming that, at least not right now. Family? Parents are farmers, his two brothers and his sister do not have jobs. What does he want to do with his education? That catches him by surprise, but he recovers and says he wants to help Tanzanians progress and be educated. Be a teacher? He hadn’t considered that. He is clearly winging it on these answers, and losing confidence.
Form-IV would make him a junior in a US high school. Kids this age shouldn’t be expected to have formulated their life plan, or to have the primary responsibility for paying their way in life. He ought to be worrying about girls and how the wrestling team is doing. But this is Tanzania and the spectre of Darwin is not that far removed.
I am moved by his account of his situation, and I am deeply pulled to give him the $10. Or at least $2 for god’s sake, to help him a bit. But I know that if I do I will be branded as the “easy mark” for every kid in the school. And anyway I do not know him and he is not even in any of my classes.
Instead, I pull out the Credo I wrote for my classes and quote “With planning, with knowledge, with hard work and care for my health I can and will create the life that I choose.” I feel pompous as all hell. I suggest that it is late now, and he should have been choosing his life and planning and thinking about the money he will need long before today. I say “You want to educate Tanzanians and say you are a good student. Many students want tutors, have you considered tutoring students for some of the money you need? “ This takes time to translate, it is an unexpected bolt from the blue for him. Juma does not understand, and when he does he does not believe or accept this as a credible idea – he is here to study not to work or teach. Besides, he needs the money NOW.
Juma is dejected as it has become apparent that I am going to lecture him instead of paying his way. But my heart isn’t into beating him up too much so I confirm that I am not going to give him any money and I excuse myself by wishing him well and saying that now I must go to prepare for my classes tomorrow.
They leave, friends walking away slowly, hand in hand. I feel like Scrooge.
Two students appeared at my door tonight as I was getting ready to cook dinner for myself – boiled potatoes and cabbage with some fried, spiced eggplant on the side. Hey, it beats ugali and beans
As could be expected, Juma’s problem had to do with money. The headmaster is cracking down and insisting that it is time now for school fees to be paid in full. The amount Juma’s parents came up with was Ts10,000 shy
So I ask Juma what kind of grades he has been getting. From his report, they are not great, but pretty good. Of course I have no way of confirming that, at least not right now. Family? Parents are farmers, his two brothers and his sister do not have jobs. What does he want to do with his education? That catches him by surprise, but he recovers and says he wants to help Tanzanians progress and be educated. Be a teacher? He hadn’t considered that. He is clearly winging it on these answers, and losing confidence.
Form-IV would make him a junior in a US high school. Kids this age shouldn’t be expected to have formulated their life plan, or to have the primary responsibility for paying their way in life. He ought to be worrying about girls and how the wrestling team is doing. But this is Tanzania and the spectre of Darwin is not that far removed.
I am moved by his account of his situation, and I am deeply pulled to give him the $10. Or at least $2 for god’s sake, to help him a bit. But I know that if I do I will be branded as the “easy mark” for every kid in the school. And anyway I do not know him and he is not even in any of my classes.
Instead, I pull out the Credo I wrote for my classes and quote “With planning, with knowledge, with hard work and care for my health I can and will create the life that I choose.” I feel pompous as all hell. I suggest that it is late now, and he should have been choosing his life and planning and thinking about the money he will need long before today. I say “You want to educate Tanzanians and say you are a good student. Many students want tutors, have you considered tutoring students for some of the money you need? “ This takes time to translate, it is an unexpected bolt from the blue for him. Juma does not understand, and when he does he does not believe or accept this as a credible idea – he is here to study not to work or teach. Besides, he needs the money NOW.
Juma is dejected as it has become apparent that I am going to lecture him instead of paying his way. But my heart isn’t into beating him up too much so I confirm that I am not going to give him any money and I excuse myself by wishing him well and saying that now I must go to prepare for my classes tomorrow.
They leave, friends walking away slowly, hand in hand. I feel like Scrooge.
Saturday, August 14, 2004
Thursday Aug 12
I got an email from my sister upon her return from gallivanting around the country and Honduras with her kids and grandkids. She frequently throws a whole barrage of good questions at me, and her last message was true to form. I put together a long answer to her, then thought that hey, this might as well be in my Journal. So here it is, the whole thing:
Hi Allegra. It sounds as though you have been very busy, and very wonderfully steeped in family affairs. Reading Steve’s journal, and Matt’s as well, it has clearly been a most memorable summer! I have to admit that I am jealous, and wish I could have been along on at least a portion of that glorious trip.
Life here goes on – I am more comfortable teaching all the time. I’ve used a little different approach in my last few classes here at Nsumba. No homework – they don’t do it anyway – but I have still thrown a lot of material at them. I am giving them a quiz in the latter part of this week, so we will see if they have been able to pick up the information. I gave them all the questions that will be in the quiz already – that is as close as I can come in Tanzania to giving an open book test.
In your message, you wrote:
I re-read Steve's copy of "Eat the Rich" yesterday.....does the author describe
Tanzinia correctly? If I understand P.J. O'Rourke's philosophy, he seems to
feel that the less government gets involved with economics, the better a country
operates.......which goes against your liberal leanings, I suppose.......
My thoughts:
I enjoyed the questions in your letter. I have really been trying to form my own understanding of what it is that makes Tanzania so poor. However I would guess that Tanzania is not as poor as Honduras – certainly not as pathetic as Haiti which is O’Rourke’s analogy for Tanzania. To be fair, you don’t get the feeling of intense deprivation here. The mass transit system of long distance buses, ferries and trains with daladalas locally works well, and people do not seem to be starving. The statistics do indicate that AIDS is a tremendous problem, but it is kept in the closet and is not obvious to people like me at all. I do not see emaciated people staggering down the street. Anyway:
When I read P.J.O’Rourke’s book, I was amazed at how well he caught the feel of the economy here in Tanzania. I can nit-pick some of his issues – it has changed a bit since he wrote that book in 1997 I think it was. High quality roads are now being built everywhere (probably because an election is coming up next year), and there is internet and cell phone access almost everywhere – although it is true that Kara in Sumve can only get reception standing under a certain tree on the top of the hill near her site. But for the most part he really is on-target in describing the situation.
With O’Rourke, I describe Tanzania as a rich country full of poor people. Some Tanzanians work very hard, but in my view, they mostly are passive and do not take initiative or responsibility for themselves. That, I think, is the legacy of the colonial period reinforced by the socialism of their first great leader, Nyerere. But their education system fails them also. It tries to copy a European plan that does not teach the practical skills that are needed here. Together with that, there is no information or support for entrepreneurial efforts, so even those hard workers who do want to start a business do not know how.
On top of that you can add in the other obvious problems of corruption at all levels, a political system that dangerously concentrates the power in the hands of one leader, excessive taxation coupled to lackadaisical collection, a reluctance to try new things, and an international economic system that discriminates against underdeveloped nations. There is also a tremendous dependency culture, so that it is taken for granted that any development efforts will come from foreign aid, not from local initiative – even though there is a resentment of foreign organizations presuming to tell Africans what needs to happen for development. At least Tanzania is peaceful and has a stable government, which is more than most of or neighbors can say.
So when asked, as I frequently am, what Tanzania should do to progress, I say they should take responsibility for themselves to start small businesses, and on a larger scale they should look at what other countries who have developed rapidly have done: Thailand, South Korea, Taiwan, Singapore, Malasia, even Japan and China and the US some 200 years ago. My understanding is that the common factor is that these countries developed some strong local industries with governmental support that protected them from foreign competition in the early stages – just what the current international powers prevent, since Bretton Woods in 1944.
I guess this is where O’Rourke and I part company. I do think governmental involvement is needed to foster fledgling industry, provide infrastructure and education, do some preparation for the droughts, locusts, and other catastrophes that seem to occur regularly, and maybe even just to keep the most vulnerable people from starving.
Anyhow, from this discussion you can see why I want to set up a program to teach young Tanzanians the basic principles of how to start and expand a small (micro) business – how to save a little of what comes in to reinvest, how to know if you are making any profit at all. Still, my efforts feel like trying to run in a vat of molasses. The Peace Corps doesn’t want me to sign any agreements until they review them – they have had my Kuleana draft for over a week now. I will need some money to start paying my instructors by the end of the month but haven’t even talked to anybody yet about being on the Board of Directors who ought to help with the initial funding and which I need to do before starting our mail solicitation program. I’ve requested suggestions from my Headmaster, Kuleana, and my friendly bank manager who is my entrée to the Rotary Club for names. My Headmaster is just slow, my Kuleana contact is out of town, and the Rotary is more interested in its internal reorganization right now. Uuuuuumph!
So Allegra, after all this rambling I don’t know how it fits with what you presume are my "liberal leanings." But I am trying to do what I can. And I certainly do not shrink from telling Tanzanians that our brilliant founding fathers set up the best system of government in the world, and that a democratic government with checks and balances to prevent excessive power in the hands of any one person or party seems to be the best system that has ever been developed so far. So yes, Allegra, I do believe I can be objective and fair in describing my country, and certainly honest.
You are most probably right indeed about it being a good thing that I am out of the country during the election season. And I’d better not say more – I know you do not share my opinions or my vantage point to see how drastically our current administration enhances the creation of terrorists around the world.
It is birthday time – Myrna is 50 on the 14th, I am/was 66 on the 11th. Wish we could be together this week. Her messages express much love and concern as well as frustration and anxiety regarding our separation and fear about traveling alone to come here in December. It feels like a long time since we have been together - both of us are really looking forward to December. And I will admit to feeling a twinge of trepidation about how well she will like living in Africa for a year. But we will see, and I think we do have a lot going for us. My house here is relatively comfortable and upscale by Nsumba standards but nothing like her attractive home in Guatemala. I am curious to see what changes she will want to institute here.
I got an email from my sister upon her return from gallivanting around the country and Honduras with her kids and grandkids. She frequently throws a whole barrage of good questions at me, and her last message was true to form. I put together a long answer to her, then thought that hey, this might as well be in my Journal. So here it is, the whole thing:
Hi Allegra. It sounds as though you have been very busy, and very wonderfully steeped in family affairs. Reading Steve’s journal, and Matt’s as well, it has clearly been a most memorable summer! I have to admit that I am jealous, and wish I could have been along on at least a portion of that glorious trip.
Life here goes on – I am more comfortable teaching all the time. I’ve used a little different approach in my last few classes here at Nsumba. No homework – they don’t do it anyway – but I have still thrown a lot of material at them. I am giving them a quiz in the latter part of this week, so we will see if they have been able to pick up the information. I gave them all the questions that will be in the quiz already – that is as close as I can come in Tanzania to giving an open book test.
In your message, you wrote:
I re-read Steve's copy of "Eat the Rich" yesterday.....does the author describe
Tanzinia correctly? If I understand P.J. O'Rourke's philosophy, he seems to
feel that the less government gets involved with economics, the better a country
operates.......which goes against your liberal leanings, I suppose.......
My thoughts:
I enjoyed the questions in your letter. I have really been trying to form my own understanding of what it is that makes Tanzania so poor. However I would guess that Tanzania is not as poor as Honduras – certainly not as pathetic as Haiti which is O’Rourke’s analogy for Tanzania. To be fair, you don’t get the feeling of intense deprivation here. The mass transit system of long distance buses, ferries and trains with daladalas locally works well, and people do not seem to be starving. The statistics do indicate that AIDS is a tremendous problem, but it is kept in the closet and is not obvious to people like me at all. I do not see emaciated people staggering down the street. Anyway:
When I read P.J.O’Rourke’s book, I was amazed at how well he caught the feel of the economy here in Tanzania. I can nit-pick some of his issues – it has changed a bit since he wrote that book in 1997 I think it was. High quality roads are now being built everywhere (probably because an election is coming up next year), and there is internet and cell phone access almost everywhere – although it is true that Kara in Sumve can only get reception standing under a certain tree on the top of the hill near her site. But for the most part he really is on-target in describing the situation.
With O’Rourke, I describe Tanzania as a rich country full of poor people. Some Tanzanians work very hard, but in my view, they mostly are passive and do not take initiative or responsibility for themselves. That, I think, is the legacy of the colonial period reinforced by the socialism of their first great leader, Nyerere. But their education system fails them also. It tries to copy a European plan that does not teach the practical skills that are needed here. Together with that, there is no information or support for entrepreneurial efforts, so even those hard workers who do want to start a business do not know how.
On top of that you can add in the other obvious problems of corruption at all levels, a political system that dangerously concentrates the power in the hands of one leader, excessive taxation coupled to lackadaisical collection, a reluctance to try new things, and an international economic system that discriminates against underdeveloped nations. There is also a tremendous dependency culture, so that it is taken for granted that any development efforts will come from foreign aid, not from local initiative – even though there is a resentment of foreign organizations presuming to tell Africans what needs to happen for development. At least Tanzania is peaceful and has a stable government, which is more than most of or neighbors can say.
So when asked, as I frequently am, what Tanzania should do to progress, I say they should take responsibility for themselves to start small businesses, and on a larger scale they should look at what other countries who have developed rapidly have done: Thailand, South Korea, Taiwan, Singapore, Malasia, even Japan and China and the US some 200 years ago. My understanding is that the common factor is that these countries developed some strong local industries with governmental support that protected them from foreign competition in the early stages – just what the current international powers prevent, since Bretton Woods in 1944.
I guess this is where O’Rourke and I part company. I do think governmental involvement is needed to foster fledgling industry, provide infrastructure and education, do some preparation for the droughts, locusts, and other catastrophes that seem to occur regularly, and maybe even just to keep the most vulnerable people from starving.
Anyhow, from this discussion you can see why I want to set up a program to teach young Tanzanians the basic principles of how to start and expand a small (micro) business – how to save a little of what comes in to reinvest, how to know if you are making any profit at all. Still, my efforts feel like trying to run in a vat of molasses. The Peace Corps doesn’t want me to sign any agreements until they review them – they have had my Kuleana draft for over a week now. I will need some money to start paying my instructors by the end of the month but haven’t even talked to anybody yet about being on the Board of Directors who ought to help with the initial funding and which I need to do before starting our mail solicitation program. I’ve requested suggestions from my Headmaster, Kuleana, and my friendly bank manager who is my entrée to the Rotary Club for names. My Headmaster is just slow, my Kuleana contact is out of town, and the Rotary is more interested in its internal reorganization right now. Uuuuuumph!
So Allegra, after all this rambling I don’t know how it fits with what you presume are my "liberal leanings." But I am trying to do what I can. And I certainly do not shrink from telling Tanzanians that our brilliant founding fathers set up the best system of government in the world, and that a democratic government with checks and balances to prevent excessive power in the hands of any one person or party seems to be the best system that has ever been developed so far. So yes, Allegra, I do believe I can be objective and fair in describing my country, and certainly honest.
You are most probably right indeed about it being a good thing that I am out of the country during the election season. And I’d better not say more – I know you do not share my opinions or my vantage point to see how drastically our current administration enhances the creation of terrorists around the world.
It is birthday time – Myrna is 50 on the 14th, I am/was 66 on the 11th. Wish we could be together this week. Her messages express much love and concern as well as frustration and anxiety regarding our separation and fear about traveling alone to come here in December. It feels like a long time since we have been together - both of us are really looking forward to December. And I will admit to feeling a twinge of trepidation about how well she will like living in Africa for a year. But we will see, and I think we do have a lot going for us. My house here is relatively comfortable and upscale by Nsumba standards but nothing like her attractive home in Guatemala. I am curious to see what changes she will want to institute here.
Saturday, August 07, 2004
Soon after I began teaching, back in January, our headmaster announced that there would be a regional school exhibition in August. Every school was to prepare at least two exhibits, and there would be a $10 award for every participating school and a $100 fine for those who did not. Last year Nsumbe paid the $100.
I downloaded a bunch of potential science fair projects from the internet and tried to generate interest in doing several of the projects as an intramural competition to get ready for the regionals, but the idea died from lack of interest.
Last night at 6:00 a delegation of teachers arrived at my hgouse and interrupted an ad-hoc discussion with a dozen students about US politics and stuff. "We need a chemistry exhibit for the regionals tomorrow, can "we" prepare something?" I pulled out the list of possibilities from months ago, and we decided we could make acid-base indicators from flowers and show that. So five students were summarily recruited and told that they would prepare this exhibit. Then bagan a frantic disorganized search for flowers (it is dark by 7:00) and unbroken lab equipment. I initiated a hasty course on acid-base indicators. There was no water in the lab so we brought a buck of water from my house. Along with my little filter and napkins to use as filter paper. The extraction requires methanol. A search turned up a big bottle of it in the stockroom, but it was water instead. Finally we found 300 ml in another bottle - enough, but barely. We extracted four types of flowers and fortunately the red hibiscus gave us acceptable results. Then the electricity went off for 10 minutes. But by 11:30 or so we had successfully completed a trial run of the experiment.
This morning we reassembled materials, found more alcohol, and made a poster. The academic master cam in to tell us that the program, at a school downtown, begins at 9:00. The current time was 8:55, but this is Tanzania. We left Nsumba at 10:30 and got to Mwanza Secondary way too early at 11:15. The judges got to our exhibit at 2:30. I took the 5 students who had participated out to an African dinner at the market and gave them money to get home by daladala.
The science project? We won't know the results until ???, but it seemed to go OK. We did a hibiscus extraction in real time and it turned orange juice red and water from ashes (we also burned banana leaves right there in real time) dark green. Now if we had had some time to practice what to say ...
I downloaded a bunch of potential science fair projects from the internet and tried to generate interest in doing several of the projects as an intramural competition to get ready for the regionals, but the idea died from lack of interest.
Last night at 6:00 a delegation of teachers arrived at my hgouse and interrupted an ad-hoc discussion with a dozen students about US politics and stuff. "We need a chemistry exhibit for the regionals tomorrow, can "we" prepare something?" I pulled out the list of possibilities from months ago, and we decided we could make acid-base indicators from flowers and show that. So five students were summarily recruited and told that they would prepare this exhibit. Then bagan a frantic disorganized search for flowers (it is dark by 7:00) and unbroken lab equipment. I initiated a hasty course on acid-base indicators. There was no water in the lab so we brought a buck of water from my house. Along with my little filter and napkins to use as filter paper. The extraction requires methanol. A search turned up a big bottle of it in the stockroom, but it was water instead. Finally we found 300 ml in another bottle - enough, but barely. We extracted four types of flowers and fortunately the red hibiscus gave us acceptable results. Then the electricity went off for 10 minutes. But by 11:30 or so we had successfully completed a trial run of the experiment.
This morning we reassembled materials, found more alcohol, and made a poster. The academic master cam in to tell us that the program, at a school downtown, begins at 9:00. The current time was 8:55, but this is Tanzania. We left Nsumba at 10:30 and got to Mwanza Secondary way too early at 11:15. The judges got to our exhibit at 2:30. I took the 5 students who had participated out to an African dinner at the market and gave them money to get home by daladala.
The science project? We won't know the results until ???, but it seemed to go OK. We did a hibiscus extraction in real time and it turned orange juice red and water from ashes (we also burned banana leaves right there in real time) dark green. Now if we had had some time to practice what to say ...
Monday, August 02, 2004
August 2nd
Great News! I just finished my meeting with Kuleana, and they are anxious to work with my program for street kids. They will handle our finances, provide space for the meetings, and one of their staff will work with us - details to be discussed. So I reported the progress to my friendly bank manager, and I think we can get things going with only a half-month's delay
The next step is to compose a Memorandum of Agreement that both Kuleana and I will sign, so that we know just what to expect of each other. AW RIIIIIGHT!
Great News! I just finished my meeting with Kuleana, and they are anxious to work with my program for street kids. They will handle our finances, provide space for the meetings, and one of their staff will work with us - details to be discussed. So I reported the progress to my friendly bank manager, and I think we can get things going with only a half-month's delay
The next step is to compose a Memorandum of Agreement that both Kuleana and I will sign, so that we know just what to expect of each other. AW RIIIIIGHT!
FRIDAY, JULY 30
The Peace Corps promised that we would have periods of frustration. Well ... they were right.
It’s Tanzania. That student instructor from the U.Dar who was here last Friday? He hasn’t been seen or heard from since. So I gave my test on the chemical equilibrium work we had been covering, and scrambled to move on to a new topic on the conservation of energy and the first law of thermodynamics.
But the test was depressing. First, many students were simply not there – an absentee rate as high as 70% in Section C. The absentees will get zeros anyway – I am becoming a hardass about stuff like that - but that is not an encouraging sign. Although scores were generally pathetic there was a full range, even two A’s. But there were tons of zeros – and worse. I’d warned every class that there would be a question about chemical formulas again, and if anybody still said that a chemical formula tells you a ratio by mass they would not get a zero on that question, they would LOSE ten points.
At least 20% of the students got the -10 points anyway! I have no solution for that. That is not a language problem, it is not a lack of understanding. It can only be a willful decision to have nothing to do with this required course of chemistry.
I guess I will have to bring in the Academic Master on the attendance issue. I hate to – that simply means the absentees will get whipped some more. I talked to a couple of my students about it, looking for ideas, but even they say that Tanzanian students have to be whipped or they will not come to class. But damn, I don’t want to be party to that! Hearing the crack of the whip every day and seeing the kids wince really bothers me. So does the look on the face of the teachers doing the whipping.
After not hearing as promised from the Acting Director of Kuleana about how they might help the Skills for Life TZ! project, I dropped in for a status report early this week. Edith promised to get in touch with me by Thursday. Didn’t happen of course. So today (Friday) I dropped in again. The new date for a discussion is tomorrow at 11:00. We’ll see.
Of course, I haven’t heard any more from the Rotary Club either. Or from my two instructors after I text messaged them advising them to wait another month before they come back from Arusha.
And my new crop of corn was growing nicely in its corral... Until yesterday, when my negligent neighbor’s goats destroyed it. I chased them out on their first pass, but wasn’t there for their second pass and they really must have enjoyed themselves.
So long as I am cataloging frustrations, I’ve been without running water for a week because the flex line to my toilet sprung a bevy of leaks. I bought a replacement line, but it didn’t seem to fit. So I bought a replacement fitting with valve and float, but it was no better. I’ve been after the school maintenance guy to look at it, but he was waiting for a contractor that they couldn’t find. He finally came over today and said it couldn’t be fixed. Swell.
So by necessity I fixed the fitting myself by wrapping the threads with unraveled twine the way I’d seen a Tanzanian plumber work when I first came here. Back then I couldn’t understand why he didn’t just use the teflon tape he had in his kit. Now I know. But after all that I couldn’t get the float mechanism to shut off the water after the bowl filled. So I doubled the washers in the valve to stop all the water flow to the toilet. At least now I have water for my shower and sinks, and can always use buckets to flush the toilet.
** **** **
SATURDAY, July 31, 2004
That Kuleana appointment with Edith for 11:00am? Sure. I got a text message about 9:00 from Edith saying that she was sick and couldn’t come to the office today. She had suggested the time, but I should have expected that the chances of her coming to the office on a weekend were pretty slim. The new date is now Monday afternoon.
Today has not alleviated my sense of frustration. The goats returned to make sure they hadn’t overlooked anything interesting in my corn patch. I took a couple of the newly re-mangled stumps with healthy clods of dirt attached and threw them into my neighbors house... again. That resulted in a bilingual shouting match in which neither of us understood the other, but it felt good to release some energy anyway.
This is also the season when Tanzanians hack away at every tree in sight with machetes (pangas, in Kiswahili), cutting most down and just mangling the rest. I don’t understand it – something about it being the best time of year to cut down trees. They pile up the wood in stacks to use the branches for firewood and the trunks for burning to make charcoal. Anyway, some other neighbors engaged in this sport dragged hefty sections of trees through the middle of my garden. So much for the onions, the remaining peppers and half the tomato plants that were just beginning to produce.
So I ended the day by walking up to the overlook. The incredible view and the silence and the absence of anyone likely to speak Kiswahili does wonders for my state of mind. It is always a good place to look for wildlife, too. No monkeys tonight, but I did see a big brown bat flitting and swooping for the first time. And one of the large owls up there sat silhouetted on top of a monumental rock for quite a while, surveying the neighborhood. I tried to answer its Hooo Hoooo with my own, but it didn’t seem interested in my efforts at all.
I stayed longer than usual as the red faded from the sky and walked home in the light of a magnificent cream-yellow full moon.
The Peace Corps promised that we would have periods of frustration. Well ... they were right.
It’s Tanzania. That student instructor from the U.Dar who was here last Friday? He hasn’t been seen or heard from since. So I gave my test on the chemical equilibrium work we had been covering, and scrambled to move on to a new topic on the conservation of energy and the first law of thermodynamics.
But the test was depressing. First, many students were simply not there – an absentee rate as high as 70% in Section C. The absentees will get zeros anyway – I am becoming a hardass about stuff like that - but that is not an encouraging sign. Although scores were generally pathetic there was a full range, even two A’s. But there were tons of zeros – and worse. I’d warned every class that there would be a question about chemical formulas again, and if anybody still said that a chemical formula tells you a ratio by mass they would not get a zero on that question, they would LOSE ten points.
At least 20% of the students got the -10 points anyway! I have no solution for that. That is not a language problem, it is not a lack of understanding. It can only be a willful decision to have nothing to do with this required course of chemistry.
I guess I will have to bring in the Academic Master on the attendance issue. I hate to – that simply means the absentees will get whipped some more. I talked to a couple of my students about it, looking for ideas, but even they say that Tanzanian students have to be whipped or they will not come to class. But damn, I don’t want to be party to that! Hearing the crack of the whip every day and seeing the kids wince really bothers me. So does the look on the face of the teachers doing the whipping.
After not hearing as promised from the Acting Director of Kuleana about how they might help the Skills for Life TZ! project, I dropped in for a status report early this week. Edith promised to get in touch with me by Thursday. Didn’t happen of course. So today (Friday) I dropped in again. The new date for a discussion is tomorrow at 11:00. We’ll see.
Of course, I haven’t heard any more from the Rotary Club either. Or from my two instructors after I text messaged them advising them to wait another month before they come back from Arusha.
And my new crop of corn was growing nicely in its corral... Until yesterday, when my negligent neighbor’s goats destroyed it. I chased them out on their first pass, but wasn’t there for their second pass and they really must have enjoyed themselves.
So long as I am cataloging frustrations, I’ve been without running water for a week because the flex line to my toilet sprung a bevy of leaks. I bought a replacement line, but it didn’t seem to fit. So I bought a replacement fitting with valve and float, but it was no better. I’ve been after the school maintenance guy to look at it, but he was waiting for a contractor that they couldn’t find. He finally came over today and said it couldn’t be fixed. Swell.
So by necessity I fixed the fitting myself by wrapping the threads with unraveled twine the way I’d seen a Tanzanian plumber work when I first came here. Back then I couldn’t understand why he didn’t just use the teflon tape he had in his kit. Now I know. But after all that I couldn’t get the float mechanism to shut off the water after the bowl filled. So I doubled the washers in the valve to stop all the water flow to the toilet. At least now I have water for my shower and sinks, and can always use buckets to flush the toilet.
** **** **
SATURDAY, July 31, 2004
That Kuleana appointment with Edith for 11:00am? Sure. I got a text message about 9:00 from Edith saying that she was sick and couldn’t come to the office today. She had suggested the time, but I should have expected that the chances of her coming to the office on a weekend were pretty slim. The new date is now Monday afternoon.
Today has not alleviated my sense of frustration. The goats returned to make sure they hadn’t overlooked anything interesting in my corn patch. I took a couple of the newly re-mangled stumps with healthy clods of dirt attached and threw them into my neighbors house... again. That resulted in a bilingual shouting match in which neither of us understood the other, but it felt good to release some energy anyway.
This is also the season when Tanzanians hack away at every tree in sight with machetes (pangas, in Kiswahili), cutting most down and just mangling the rest. I don’t understand it – something about it being the best time of year to cut down trees. They pile up the wood in stacks to use the branches for firewood and the trunks for burning to make charcoal. Anyway, some other neighbors engaged in this sport dragged hefty sections of trees through the middle of my garden. So much for the onions, the remaining peppers and half the tomato plants that were just beginning to produce.
So I ended the day by walking up to the overlook. The incredible view and the silence and the absence of anyone likely to speak Kiswahili does wonders for my state of mind. It is always a good place to look for wildlife, too. No monkeys tonight, but I did see a big brown bat flitting and swooping for the first time. And one of the large owls up there sat silhouetted on top of a monumental rock for quite a while, surveying the neighborhood. I tried to answer its Hooo Hoooo with my own, but it didn’t seem interested in my efforts at all.
I stayed longer than usual as the red faded from the sky and walked home in the light of a magnificent cream-yellow full moon.
FRIDAY, JULY 30
The Peace Corps promised that we would have periods of frustration. Well ... they were right.
It’s Tanzania. That student instructor from the U.Dar who was here last Friday? He hasn’t been seen or heard from since. So I gave my test on the chemical equilibrium work we had been covering, and scrambled to move on to a new topic on the conservation of energy and the first law of thermodynamics.
But the test was depressing. First, many students were simply not there – an absentee rate as high as 70% in Section C. The absentees will get zeros anyway – I am becoming a hardass about stuff like that - but that is not an encouraging sign. Although scores were generally pathetic there was a full range, even two A’s. But there were tons of zeros – and worse. I’d warned every class that there would be a question about chemical formulas again, and if anybody still said that a chemical formula tells you a ratio by mass they would not get a zero on that question, they would LOSE ten points.
At least 20% of the students got the -10 points anyway! I have no solution for that. That is not a language problem, it is not a lack of understanding. It can only be a willful decision to have nothing to do with this required course of chemistry.
I guess I will have to bring in the Academic Master on the attendance issue. I hate to – that simply means the absentees will get whipped some more. I talked to a couple of my students about it, looking for ideas, but even they say that Tanzanian students have to be whipped or they will not come to class. But damn, I don’t want to be party to that! Hearing the crack of the whip every day and seeing the kids wince really bothers me. So does the look on the face of the teachers doing the whipping.
After not hearing as promised from the Acting Director of Kuleana about how they might help the Skills for Life TZ! project, I dropped in for a status report early this week. Edith promised to get in touch with me by Thursday. Didn’t happen of course. So today (Friday) I dropped in again. The new date for a discussion is tomorrow at 11:00. We’ll see.
Of course, I haven’t heard any more from the Rotary Club either. Or from my two instructors after I text messaged them advising them to wait another month before they come back from Arusha.
And my new crop of corn was growing nicely in its corral... Until yesterday, when my negligent neighbor’s goats destroyed it. I chased them out on their first pass, but wasn’t there for their second pass and they really must have enjoyed themselves.
So long as I am cataloging frustrations, I’ve been without running water for a week because the flex line to my toilet sprung a bevy of leaks. I bought a replacement line, but it didn’t seem to fit. So I bought a replacement fitting with valve and float, but it was no better. I’ve been after the school maintenance guy to look at it, but he was waiting for a contractor that they couldn’t find. He finally came over today and said it couldn’t be fixed. Swell.
So by necessity I fixed the fitting myself by wrapping the threads with unraveled twine the way I’d seen a Tanzanian plumber work when I first came here. Back then I couldn’t understand why he didn’t just use the teflon tape he had in his kit. Now I know. But after all that I couldn’t get the float mechanism to shut off the water after the bowl filled. So I doubled the washers in the valve to stop all the water flow to the toilet. At least now I have water for my shower and sinks, and can always use buckets to flush the toilet.
** **** **
SATURDAY, July 31, 2004
That Kuleana appointment with Edith for 11:00am? Sure. I got a text message about 9:00 from Edith saying that she was sick and couldn’t come to the office today. She had suggested the time, but I should have expected that the chances of her coming to the office on a weekend were pretty slim. The new date is now Monday afternoon.
Today has not alleviated my sense of frustration. The goats returned to make sure they hadn’t overlooked anything interesting in my corn patch. I took a couple of the newly re-mangled stumps with healthy clods of dirt attached and threw them into my neighbors house... again. That resulted in a bilingual shouting match in which neither of us understood the other, but it felt good to release some energy anyway.
This is also the season when Tanzanians hack away at every tree in sight with machetes (pangas, in Kiswahili), cutting most down and just mangling the rest. I don’t understand it – something about it being the best time of year to cut down trees. They pile up the wood in stacks to use the branches for firewood and the trunks for burning to make charcoal. Anyway, some other neighbors engaged in this sport dragged hefty sections of trees through the middle of my garden. So much for the onions, the remaining peppers and half the tomato plants that were just beginning to produce.
So I ended the day by walking up to the overlook. The incredible view and the silence and the absence of anyone likely to speak Kiswahili does wonders for my state of mind. It is always a good place to look for wildlife, too. No monkeys tonight, but I did see a big brown bat flitting and swooping for the first time. And one of the large owls up there sat silhouetted on top of a monumental rock for quite a while, surveying the neighborhood. I tried to answer its Hooo Hoooo with my own, but it didn’t seem interested in my efforts at all.
I stayed longer than usual as the red faded from the sky and walked home in the light of a magnificent cream-yellow full moon.
The Peace Corps promised that we would have periods of frustration. Well ... they were right.
It’s Tanzania. That student instructor from the U.Dar who was here last Friday? He hasn’t been seen or heard from since. So I gave my test on the chemical equilibrium work we had been covering, and scrambled to move on to a new topic on the conservation of energy and the first law of thermodynamics.
But the test was depressing. First, many students were simply not there – an absentee rate as high as 70% in Section C. The absentees will get zeros anyway – I am becoming a hardass about stuff like that - but that is not an encouraging sign. Although scores were generally pathetic there was a full range, even two A’s. But there were tons of zeros – and worse. I’d warned every class that there would be a question about chemical formulas again, and if anybody still said that a chemical formula tells you a ratio by mass they would not get a zero on that question, they would LOSE ten points.
At least 20% of the students got the -10 points anyway! I have no solution for that. That is not a language problem, it is not a lack of understanding. It can only be a willful decision to have nothing to do with this required course of chemistry.
I guess I will have to bring in the Academic Master on the attendance issue. I hate to – that simply means the absentees will get whipped some more. I talked to a couple of my students about it, looking for ideas, but even they say that Tanzanian students have to be whipped or they will not come to class. But damn, I don’t want to be party to that! Hearing the crack of the whip every day and seeing the kids wince really bothers me. So does the look on the face of the teachers doing the whipping.
After not hearing as promised from the Acting Director of Kuleana about how they might help the Skills for Life TZ! project, I dropped in for a status report early this week. Edith promised to get in touch with me by Thursday. Didn’t happen of course. So today (Friday) I dropped in again. The new date for a discussion is tomorrow at 11:00. We’ll see.
Of course, I haven’t heard any more from the Rotary Club either. Or from my two instructors after I text messaged them advising them to wait another month before they come back from Arusha.
And my new crop of corn was growing nicely in its corral... Until yesterday, when my negligent neighbor’s goats destroyed it. I chased them out on their first pass, but wasn’t there for their second pass and they really must have enjoyed themselves.
So long as I am cataloging frustrations, I’ve been without running water for a week because the flex line to my toilet sprung a bevy of leaks. I bought a replacement line, but it didn’t seem to fit. So I bought a replacement fitting with valve and float, but it was no better. I’ve been after the school maintenance guy to look at it, but he was waiting for a contractor that they couldn’t find. He finally came over today and said it couldn’t be fixed. Swell.
So by necessity I fixed the fitting myself by wrapping the threads with unraveled twine the way I’d seen a Tanzanian plumber work when I first came here. Back then I couldn’t understand why he didn’t just use the teflon tape he had in his kit. Now I know. But after all that I couldn’t get the float mechanism to shut off the water after the bowl filled. So I doubled the washers in the valve to stop all the water flow to the toilet. At least now I have water for my shower and sinks, and can always use buckets to flush the toilet.
** **** **
SATURDAY, July 31, 2004
That Kuleana appointment with Edith for 11:00am? Sure. I got a text message about 9:00 from Edith saying that she was sick and couldn’t come to the office today. She had suggested the time, but I should have expected that the chances of her coming to the office on a weekend were pretty slim. The new date is now Monday afternoon.
Today has not alleviated my sense of frustration. The goats returned to make sure they hadn’t overlooked anything interesting in my corn patch. I took a couple of the newly re-mangled stumps with healthy clods of dirt attached and threw them into my neighbors house... again. That resulted in a bilingual shouting match in which neither of us understood the other, but it felt good to release some energy anyway.
This is also the season when Tanzanians hack away at every tree in sight with machetes (pangas, in Kiswahili), cutting most down and just mangling the rest. I don’t understand it – something about it being the best time of year to cut down trees. They pile up the wood in stacks to use the branches for firewood and the trunks for burning to make charcoal. Anyway, some other neighbors engaged in this sport dragged hefty sections of trees through the middle of my garden. So much for the onions, the remaining peppers and half the tomato plants that were just beginning to produce.
So I ended the day by walking up to the overlook. The incredible view and the silence and the absence of anyone likely to speak Kiswahili does wonders for my state of mind. It is always a good place to look for wildlife, too. No monkeys tonight, but I did see a big brown bat flitting and swooping for the first time. And one of the large owls up there sat silhouetted on top of a monumental rock for quite a while, surveying the neighborhood. I tried to answer its Hooo Hoooo with my own, but it didn’t seem interested in my efforts at all.
I stayed longer than usual as the red faded from the sky and walked home in the light of a magnificent cream-yellow full moon.
