Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Sunday April 24
This feels like a deliciously languid Sunday afternoon, the last part of a very pleasant, long weekend. It really began on Thursday, which was to be a Tanzanian Holiday, Maliid. But that is a religious holiday, and the exact date depends on whether some designated leader or other sees the moon the night before, or something like that. Well, he didn’t see the moon, so it was announced on the radio and TV in the morning that the holiday was Friday, not Thursday. Except that all the day students made it a point NOT to tune in to the radio or TV (yeah, sure!), so they did not come to school on Thursday and so it didn’t make sense to do anything meaningful for half-empty classes.
Then, I don’t have scheduled classes on Friday.
Meanwhile, the ex-pat community was throwing a BYO party on Saturday night and all the PCVs in the area were invited. Kara, Kathleen, and Ryan said they were up for it. And of course I was, too.
Kara came in for the weekend, and slept across at my place on Friday night. With Kara it is more listening than talking, but that is still OK and it felt very good to trade shop talk about all our trials and tribulations as teachers. She had also brought her Mother to Tanzania recently for a Safari, so was full of ideas and suggestions about how to plan a good Safari.
My houseboy had killed a pig on Friday, and I’d bought a kilo of fresh pork to share with the gang on Saturday night before going to the party. But I don’t have a refrigerator, and by Saturday it didn’t smell so good, so Kathleen and Kara picked up a kilo of fresh beef downtown to bring out to Nsumba. We also bought beer and peanuts from Frida’s banda. We all sat around talking. I squeezed about a liter of fresh orange juice – we have wonderful oranges right now, five for ten cents – and we made screwdrivers with Konyagi. Then we needed something to go with the screwdrivers, so I made a big batch of popcorn that Ryan thinks was the best popcorn he ever ate. My compliments to the Konyagi.
I’d taken a shower in late afternoon, and was hanging around wrapped in a kanga because it is just so damn comfortable, with another tied loosely around my neck to protect my upper half from the mosquitos. So now it is evening, and at this point a student dropped by – I’d foolishly agreed to take a picture of the two of us, and he hadn’t forgotten. So here are four PCVs sitting on the little patio outside my house under a flourescent tube, joking, halfway sloshed, and this kid wants to have a picture with me wearing kangas. It took a while before he got the message that this was not going to happen this evening, but he finally did leave.
We didn’t get around to eating until pretty late. But the meat tenderizer had done pretty good work on the tough Tanzanian beef, and when you add BBQ sauce to the beans, it does a credible job of making them taste like Boston Baked Beans. And we were all so mellow by then, anything would have been good.
About 10:00 we decided that we really ought to go to the party. But Ryan was not about to rouse himself for the trip to town and work up energy for dancing, even when I assured him that the beautiful new Dutch girl in town, Beatrice, would be there. Besides, the daladalas weren’t running any more, so transportation was a problem. Kara decided that she didn’t want that hassle either, and the two of them headed down the road for Ryan’s place. Party poopers!
Kathleen and I went out to the road, and within five minutes were able to flag down a taxi that had brought somebody out to the University, and we got a ride back to town for only $3 – half the usual price. We made sure he knew how to find The Flats Apartments in Isamilo, then off we went. Well, he knew how to find Isamilo, but nothing more. We wandered around on dark rutted dirt roads, trying to get directions by cellphone. Just as we finally reached Maria we came across the noise and passel of cars that had to be the party, and it was.
The Flats are a big 3-story apartment building with a railing around the flat roof, and an incredible view of the lights of Mwanza and vista of the lake. There was a huge supply of food, booze, and music. Dancing at one end of the roof, and some wicker couches and chairs at the other. It felt so GOOD to be at a party, and to be able to dance. No rap, no hip-hop, no Bongo Flava. The women were wives, NGO volunteers, students doing thesis research, social workers. The men were geologists, drillers and managers for the gold mines, with a lot of Aussie vs. Kiwi banter going on. It was sort-of a costume party, and by midnight people were exchanging costumes.
Maria lives near the Flats, and had offered her house to spend the night, if we wanted. We did. Kathleen and I wore out about 2:00 or so, and hunted Maria down for directions to her house. She was also about to leave, so we hung out for her. She really did live very close by, but we took two other groups of people to their homes on the way, finally getting to her place about 3:00. She lives in a VERY comfortable and big home, courtesy of her employer (Fortas Safaris, Garage, Tires, and Auto Rental) and it felt wonderful to hit the sack.
Got up this morning, made a leisurely cup of coffee for myself, talked with Maria for awhile, and walked to town in time to attend the Sikh Gurdwara again. The President of the Rotary Club was there, and confirmed the Club interest in helping out on my economic empowerment course. Afterwards, I spent a moderately frustrating half hour at the internet cafe, then picked up the books that TechnoServe had sent for the course at the Scandinavia Bus Station and brought them home on the daladala.
Now I am relaxing and listening to the So American CD that Myrna sent me just last week. She sent a whole package of photos, CDs and assorted stuff, and it has had exactly the effect that was undoubtedly intended. I am again thinking about Myrna, Guatemala, and our relationship.
Eight days now. The puppies are a lot bigger and heavier than they were, but I’m surprised that they still haven’t opened their eyes.
Tuesday, April 26
Now one of the puppies is beginning to open his eyes.
There is a new teacher at Ryan's school, for computer training. She is Korean, and last night cooked for us. Wonderful. I hope this starts a whole new activity!
Today is a National Holiday - Union Day, when Tanzania and Zanzibar joined. So no classes. There was a yoga introduction at the Hindu Temple this morning though, so Jessica (in transit between Dar and Bukoba) went to it. It was fun, and I can see that yoga certainly would stretch out all those muscles.
This feels like a deliciously languid Sunday afternoon, the last part of a very pleasant, long weekend. It really began on Thursday, which was to be a Tanzanian Holiday, Maliid. But that is a religious holiday, and the exact date depends on whether some designated leader or other sees the moon the night before, or something like that. Well, he didn’t see the moon, so it was announced on the radio and TV in the morning that the holiday was Friday, not Thursday. Except that all the day students made it a point NOT to tune in to the radio or TV (yeah, sure!), so they did not come to school on Thursday and so it didn’t make sense to do anything meaningful for half-empty classes.
Then, I don’t have scheduled classes on Friday.
Meanwhile, the ex-pat community was throwing a BYO party on Saturday night and all the PCVs in the area were invited. Kara, Kathleen, and Ryan said they were up for it. And of course I was, too.
Kara came in for the weekend, and slept across at my place on Friday night. With Kara it is more listening than talking, but that is still OK and it felt very good to trade shop talk about all our trials and tribulations as teachers. She had also brought her Mother to Tanzania recently for a Safari, so was full of ideas and suggestions about how to plan a good Safari.
My houseboy had killed a pig on Friday, and I’d bought a kilo of fresh pork to share with the gang on Saturday night before going to the party. But I don’t have a refrigerator, and by Saturday it didn’t smell so good, so Kathleen and Kara picked up a kilo of fresh beef downtown to bring out to Nsumba. We also bought beer and peanuts from Frida’s banda. We all sat around talking. I squeezed about a liter of fresh orange juice – we have wonderful oranges right now, five for ten cents – and we made screwdrivers with Konyagi. Then we needed something to go with the screwdrivers, so I made a big batch of popcorn that Ryan thinks was the best popcorn he ever ate. My compliments to the Konyagi.
I’d taken a shower in late afternoon, and was hanging around wrapped in a kanga because it is just so damn comfortable, with another tied loosely around my neck to protect my upper half from the mosquitos. So now it is evening, and at this point a student dropped by – I’d foolishly agreed to take a picture of the two of us, and he hadn’t forgotten. So here are four PCVs sitting on the little patio outside my house under a flourescent tube, joking, halfway sloshed, and this kid wants to have a picture with me wearing kangas. It took a while before he got the message that this was not going to happen this evening, but he finally did leave.
We didn’t get around to eating until pretty late. But the meat tenderizer had done pretty good work on the tough Tanzanian beef, and when you add BBQ sauce to the beans, it does a credible job of making them taste like Boston Baked Beans. And we were all so mellow by then, anything would have been good.
About 10:00 we decided that we really ought to go to the party. But Ryan was not about to rouse himself for the trip to town and work up energy for dancing, even when I assured him that the beautiful new Dutch girl in town, Beatrice, would be there. Besides, the daladalas weren’t running any more, so transportation was a problem. Kara decided that she didn’t want that hassle either, and the two of them headed down the road for Ryan’s place. Party poopers!
Kathleen and I went out to the road, and within five minutes were able to flag down a taxi that had brought somebody out to the University, and we got a ride back to town for only $3 – half the usual price. We made sure he knew how to find The Flats Apartments in Isamilo, then off we went. Well, he knew how to find Isamilo, but nothing more. We wandered around on dark rutted dirt roads, trying to get directions by cellphone. Just as we finally reached Maria we came across the noise and passel of cars that had to be the party, and it was.
The Flats are a big 3-story apartment building with a railing around the flat roof, and an incredible view of the lights of Mwanza and vista of the lake. There was a huge supply of food, booze, and music. Dancing at one end of the roof, and some wicker couches and chairs at the other. It felt so GOOD to be at a party, and to be able to dance. No rap, no hip-hop, no Bongo Flava. The women were wives, NGO volunteers, students doing thesis research, social workers. The men were geologists, drillers and managers for the gold mines, with a lot of Aussie vs. Kiwi banter going on. It was sort-of a costume party, and by midnight people were exchanging costumes.
Maria lives near the Flats, and had offered her house to spend the night, if we wanted. We did. Kathleen and I wore out about 2:00 or so, and hunted Maria down for directions to her house. She was also about to leave, so we hung out for her. She really did live very close by, but we took two other groups of people to their homes on the way, finally getting to her place about 3:00. She lives in a VERY comfortable and big home, courtesy of her employer (Fortas Safaris, Garage, Tires, and Auto Rental) and it felt wonderful to hit the sack.
Got up this morning, made a leisurely cup of coffee for myself, talked with Maria for awhile, and walked to town in time to attend the Sikh Gurdwara again. The President of the Rotary Club was there, and confirmed the Club interest in helping out on my economic empowerment course. Afterwards, I spent a moderately frustrating half hour at the internet cafe, then picked up the books that TechnoServe had sent for the course at the Scandinavia Bus Station and brought them home on the daladala.
Now I am relaxing and listening to the So American CD that Myrna sent me just last week. She sent a whole package of photos, CDs and assorted stuff, and it has had exactly the effect that was undoubtedly intended. I am again thinking about Myrna, Guatemala, and our relationship.
Eight days now. The puppies are a lot bigger and heavier than they were, but I’m surprised that they still haven’t opened their eyes.
Tuesday, April 26
Now one of the puppies is beginning to open his eyes.
There is a new teacher at Ryan's school, for computer training. She is Korean, and last night cooked for us. Wonderful. I hope this starts a whole new activity!
Today is a National Holiday - Union Day, when Tanzania and Zanzibar joined. So no classes. There was a yoga introduction at the Hindu Temple this morning though, so Jessica (in transit between Dar and Bukoba) went to it. It was fun, and I can see that yoga certainly would stretch out all those muscles.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Cheating is endemic in Tanzanian schools, taken for granted. Students who are caught are treated harshly, but it is almost a game.
My mid-term exam was given last week. I was downtown at the time – the teachers of a course are not included among the proctors (invigilators) for their own tests. Things seemed to go normally. Over the weekend I graded the exams. Lo and behold there were two papers, from good students of mine, that had identical first pages. Complete to the same grammatical mistakes and erroneous answers. I subtracted 25 pts from both papers, and wrote on them “Regina – Vedastus: Who copied from whom?”
In the first class after the exam period I handed back the corrected exams and spent the period going over the answers. Immediately after class, Regina came up to me, extremely disturbed and demanding that I give her a zero because the reduced score was not what she earned so she should have a zero. She is a dedicated, good student – no way did I want to do that to her. Vedastus came up. Neither would admit to cheating: they said they had studied together from the same book, not from my notes. By now the whole class is gathered around and commenting – this was no way a private student-teacher conference. Regina is outraged and almost crying. Vedastus is playing it cool, letting Regina take the lead. Neither would admit to cheating. I told them that I wanted them to show me this book they studied and got the answers from, and would talk also to the invigilator before taking final action.
The Invigilator turned out to be a friend of mine, Banteze. He said that the test was given in three classrooms, and none of the other two scheduled invigilators showed up so he was handling all three classrooms. Consequently it is clear that there were long periods when no teacher was in the room while students were taking the test. So the whole situation was a fiasco. Really, I can be pretty sure that some other students copied answers on the exam, but nobody else was so blatant as to copy a whole page word for word.
My next step was to lay the papers and the story on the desk of the school Academic Master. He laughed, and said that yes, cheating is a major problem. On the other hand, Regina is the daughter of one of the other teachers. So he suggested that I not reduce their scores. Rather, he would call them in, read them the riot act in four-part harmony, tell them that this would be entered into their school record, and never to cheat like this again or there would be the most serious consequences. I don’t know that this resolution is “fair,” but it is probably the best outcome, all things considered.
Whew!
My mid-term exam was given last week. I was downtown at the time – the teachers of a course are not included among the proctors (invigilators) for their own tests. Things seemed to go normally. Over the weekend I graded the exams. Lo and behold there were two papers, from good students of mine, that had identical first pages. Complete to the same grammatical mistakes and erroneous answers. I subtracted 25 pts from both papers, and wrote on them “Regina – Vedastus: Who copied from whom?”
In the first class after the exam period I handed back the corrected exams and spent the period going over the answers. Immediately after class, Regina came up to me, extremely disturbed and demanding that I give her a zero because the reduced score was not what she earned so she should have a zero. She is a dedicated, good student – no way did I want to do that to her. Vedastus came up. Neither would admit to cheating: they said they had studied together from the same book, not from my notes. By now the whole class is gathered around and commenting – this was no way a private student-teacher conference. Regina is outraged and almost crying. Vedastus is playing it cool, letting Regina take the lead. Neither would admit to cheating. I told them that I wanted them to show me this book they studied and got the answers from, and would talk also to the invigilator before taking final action.
The Invigilator turned out to be a friend of mine, Banteze. He said that the test was given in three classrooms, and none of the other two scheduled invigilators showed up so he was handling all three classrooms. Consequently it is clear that there were long periods when no teacher was in the room while students were taking the test. So the whole situation was a fiasco. Really, I can be pretty sure that some other students copied answers on the exam, but nobody else was so blatant as to copy a whole page word for word.
My next step was to lay the papers and the story on the desk of the school Academic Master. He laughed, and said that yes, cheating is a major problem. On the other hand, Regina is the daughter of one of the other teachers. So he suggested that I not reduce their scores. Rather, he would call them in, read them the riot act in four-part harmony, tell them that this would be entered into their school record, and never to cheat like this again or there would be the most serious consequences. I don’t know that this resolution is “fair,” but it is probably the best outcome, all things considered.
Whew!
Monday, April 18, 2005
Met a very interesting couple today. Amy and Ben Hathaway are Brits who have been in Africa for two and a half years now. Ben is the Headmaster at Isamelo School, and Amy teaches there. Along the line they visited the Starehe Home for Children – the place where I was hoping Myrna could serve if she had come to Africa – and got hooked. They have adopted two cute little orphaned kids, ages 1 and 3, and have decided to stay in Africa indefinitely to start a home for orphaned/displaced infants. They are currently negotiating to buy a large house in Mwanza for their operation, and writing grant proposals and contacting potential donors.
As they explain it, there are already facilities for kids who are older than toddlers – they are photogenic and so fund raising is simplified. But infants have a different set of problems and needs, and there are few facilities for them. The problem usually arises when a mother dies in childbirth. The extended family would normally be expected to step in if there is a crisis like this, but unless some relative is already nursing there is no source of food for the infant, and formula is too expensive for most families. This problem is increasing with the incidence of AIDS, as AIDS is a major contributor to maternal death.
Amy and Ben hope to keep infants for 2-3 years until they are healthy and strong and eating solid food and then return them to their families or communities, or provide adoption services if that is not possible. Keeping fathers involved is seen as a priority since especially if the father remarries, the new wife may not look favorably on taking back a child from a previous woman.
For the record, their contact information is: AmBenyHathaway@hotmail.com, and www.foreverangels.org (which may not be up and running yet), and cellphone 255 748 591808. Maybe we might spend an afternoon with them when my family is in Mwanza in August.?
You know, when you step out of a routine and reach for something improbable, it is amazing how many people you find doing something similar, something exciting, something rewarding. I think most of us have no idea what circumscribed lives we live until we step outside of whatever cozy rut we live in and look around.
By the way, I moved Hodie And The Six out to the bathroom last night. The squealing was too much for me, and Hodie seems happy there. The kid’s eyes are still closed, but they seem to be getting along with less confusion and squeaking.
As they explain it, there are already facilities for kids who are older than toddlers – they are photogenic and so fund raising is simplified. But infants have a different set of problems and needs, and there are few facilities for them. The problem usually arises when a mother dies in childbirth. The extended family would normally be expected to step in if there is a crisis like this, but unless some relative is already nursing there is no source of food for the infant, and formula is too expensive for most families. This problem is increasing with the incidence of AIDS, as AIDS is a major contributor to maternal death.
Amy and Ben hope to keep infants for 2-3 years until they are healthy and strong and eating solid food and then return them to their families or communities, or provide adoption services if that is not possible. Keeping fathers involved is seen as a priority since especially if the father remarries, the new wife may not look favorably on taking back a child from a previous woman.
For the record, their contact information is: AmBenyHathaway@hotmail.com, and www.foreverangels.org (which may not be up and running yet), and cellphone 255 748 591808. Maybe we might spend an afternoon with them when my family is in Mwanza in August.?
You know, when you step out of a routine and reach for something improbable, it is amazing how many people you find doing something similar, something exciting, something rewarding. I think most of us have no idea what circumscribed lives we live until we step outside of whatever cozy rut we live in and look around.
By the way, I moved Hodie And The Six out to the bathroom last night. The squealing was too much for me, and Hodie seems happy there. The kid’s eyes are still closed, but they seem to be getting along with less confusion and squeaking.
Saturday Morning, April 16
Well, puppies now. I feel like I should be smoking and handing out cigars or something. Hodie had been looking just so very bloated and uncomfortable this past week. She was lying beside my bed two nights ago, and it felt like there was a soccer game going on in her belly there. Last night she was clearly hurting, and at 3:00am wanted to go outside, where she seemed to be looking for a place to nest, but nothing happened. She came over to me looking really mournful, wanting to be stroked and petted. But this morning while I was making breakfast for myself she gave birth to three wet, squirming puppies at 15 minute intervals beginning at 8:30.
The first one was biggest, with white paws. The next, the lightest in color. The third has a white stripe on its head. All guys. I could pick them up while they were wet and Hodie was busy licking them all, but now they are suckling and she growls if I get too close for her comfort zone.
Whoops. I just went back to look again, and Hodie was opening the sack on yet another one, this time a little girl. And then two more! Six little squirming, squeaking brown puppies, eyes closed, looking for food. Hodie is kept busy licking them all, and herself. No wonder she was looking so big. What a Mama!
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
I’ve been attending the Sikh Gurdwara in Mwanza pretty regularly for several months now. I’m there to meditate and enjoy during the hour of music that precedes the service, and because I do feel comfortable there. Slowly, I am beginning to pick up a little of the Sikh symbolism and belief system. Their articles of faith, the Mool Mantor, consist of:
- There is one God
- His name is Truth
- He is the Creator
- He is without fear
- He is without hate
- He is beyond time
- He is beyond birth and death
- He is self-existent
- He is realized by the Guru’s grace
The teachings were given by nine prophets, or Gurus, and the ninth one, Guru Gobind Singh, said that there weren’t going to be any more so the Holy Book was complete and is therefore a Guru itself, the Guru Granth Sahib.
The Sikhs carefully preserve their history of periodic persecutions - rather like the Jewish culture in that. Their ideal is the warrior-saint. Their emblem, or Khanda, is a double edged sword (one edge is Justice, the other Freedom and Authority), surrounded by a circle and two more interlocked swords. The sword on the left, Piri, represents spiritual sovereignty, and the one on the right, Miri, political sovereignty. Sikh men carry five symbols: Uncut hair under a turban, a comb, a dagger, and wear a silver or steel bracelet and some sort of special underwear that I am reasonably happy that no one has troubled to explain or demonstrate to me. Most of the Sikh men I meet do cut their hair and only some wear turbans, so I suppose the Mwanza Gurdwara is rather on the liberal side.
This is a big week for the Sikh. Tuesday and Wednesday will be spent in reading the Holy Book. Thursday is the Holy Day, the day of remembrance for the Gurus. The whole city is invited to a lunch. The flagpole is lowered and cleaned after its cloth wrapper is removed, then a new wrapper is installed and it is raised again.
I will try to be there.
Monday, April 11, 2005
Last week was the school’s midterm break. Students were home or wherever students go on a free week. I’d taken those trips to Kalebezo and Ngara that I already wrote about. Joel laughs at me and says I’ve seen more of Tanzania than most Tanzanians.
None of the school administration had said anything, but I figured that at a midterm break we should have a midterm test. I hadn’t gotten around to putting one together, so had told my classes it would come in the 2nd week after they return.
Well, the school DOES want to have FORMAL midterm tests, and they make a big deal out of it. A week devoted only to exams, carefully scheduled and proctored (“invigilated”), and suddenly scheduled for the FIRST week after students returned. So I told my classes “Sorry I lied to you, but your test is not next week, it is THIS THURSDAY, get ready for it.”
But then somebody remembered that Thursday was a Tanzanian holiday, the birthday of the 1st President of Zanzibar, and so the Chemistry midterm was rescheduled for the following Monday after all. Except for the minor detail that the official schedule still had it listed as Thursday despite my repeated suggestions that the schedule be corrected. (I didn’t want to do it myself because schedules are in such flux, they could have decided at any time to give the test on Friday or something, instead of next week.
Anyway, I took this turn of events as an opportunity for a quick flight to Dar es Salaam. I didn’t want to spend either the time or money for it, but I did have to get some forms notarized, and the ONLY place I found to get that done was at the US Embassy in Dar.
So, off to Dar on Thursday morning. I hadn’t thought that the Embassy would be closed on a Tanzanian holiday. But it was, so Thursday was a wasted day. Still, I was able to check my email, and so learned from the bank that I could have used a photocopy of my passport as proof of identity and signature. Obviously that information came just a day too late. So it goes.
All this did give me a chance to talk with some new and old volunteers at the Peace Corps Lounge, eat at Summy’s Street Chicken, and talk with Atiba about what’s next in the Bizcourse. With his help, TechnoServe will send a representative to meet with our course instructors for a refresher session next month. As it turns out, I may also be able to help Atiba a bit. His top brass will be coming in to review the whole bizcourse program. Most of it is operating in southern Tanzania, my part up in the Lake Region is just the newest extension. The brass will be trying to assess the value of the program and to try to figure out how to establish its value and set criteria for success.
Man, I have become so passionate about the need to provide PRACTICAL KNOWLEDGE and to encourage SELF RELIANCE to Tanzanian students, I would JUMP at a chance to support and expand this program. And not incidentally, it would give me a chance to meet the TechnoServe top brass and that could be very valuable as I begin to look at what is next after the Peace Corps. Funny how stuff might work out.
None of the school administration had said anything, but I figured that at a midterm break we should have a midterm test. I hadn’t gotten around to putting one together, so had told my classes it would come in the 2nd week after they return.
Well, the school DOES want to have FORMAL midterm tests, and they make a big deal out of it. A week devoted only to exams, carefully scheduled and proctored (“invigilated”), and suddenly scheduled for the FIRST week after students returned. So I told my classes “Sorry I lied to you, but your test is not next week, it is THIS THURSDAY, get ready for it.”
But then somebody remembered that Thursday was a Tanzanian holiday, the birthday of the 1st President of Zanzibar, and so the Chemistry midterm was rescheduled for the following Monday after all. Except for the minor detail that the official schedule still had it listed as Thursday despite my repeated suggestions that the schedule be corrected. (I didn’t want to do it myself because schedules are in such flux, they could have decided at any time to give the test on Friday or something, instead of next week.
Anyway, I took this turn of events as an opportunity for a quick flight to Dar es Salaam. I didn’t want to spend either the time or money for it, but I did have to get some forms notarized, and the ONLY place I found to get that done was at the US Embassy in Dar.
So, off to Dar on Thursday morning. I hadn’t thought that the Embassy would be closed on a Tanzanian holiday. But it was, so Thursday was a wasted day. Still, I was able to check my email, and so learned from the bank that I could have used a photocopy of my passport as proof of identity and signature. Obviously that information came just a day too late. So it goes.
All this did give me a chance to talk with some new and old volunteers at the Peace Corps Lounge, eat at Summy’s Street Chicken, and talk with Atiba about what’s next in the Bizcourse. With his help, TechnoServe will send a representative to meet with our course instructors for a refresher session next month. As it turns out, I may also be able to help Atiba a bit. His top brass will be coming in to review the whole bizcourse program. Most of it is operating in southern Tanzania, my part up in the Lake Region is just the newest extension. The brass will be trying to assess the value of the program and to try to figure out how to establish its value and set criteria for success.
Man, I have become so passionate about the need to provide PRACTICAL KNOWLEDGE and to encourage SELF RELIANCE to Tanzanian students, I would JUMP at a chance to support and expand this program. And not incidentally, it would give me a chance to meet the TechnoServe top brass and that could be very valuable as I begin to look at what is next after the Peace Corps. Funny how stuff might work out.
Sunday, April 10, 2005
Last week was the school’s midterm break. Students were home or wherever students go on a free week. I’d taken those trips to Kalebezo and Ngara that I already wrote about. Joel laughs at me and says I’ve seen more of Tanzania than most Tanzanians.
None of the school administration had said anything, but I figured that at a midterm break we should have a midterm test. I hadn’t gotten around to putting one together, so had told my classes it would come in the 2nd week after they return.
Well, the school DOES want to have FORMAL midterm tests, and they make a big deal out of it. A week devoted only to exams, carefully scheduled and proctored (“invigilated”), and suddenly scheduled for the FIRST week after students returned. So I told my classes “Sorry I lied to you, but your test is not next week, it is THIS THURSDAY, get ready for it.”
But then somebody remembered that Thursday was a Tanzanian holiday, the birthday of the 1st President of Zanzibar, and so the Chemistry midterm was rescheduled for the following Monday after all. Except for the minor detail that the official schedule still had it listed as Thursday despite my repeated suggestions that the schedule be corrected. (I didn’t want to do it myself because schedules are in such flux, they could have decided at any time to give the test on Friday or something, instead of next week.
Anyway, I took this turn of events as an opportunity for a quick flight to Dar es Salaam. I didn’t want to spend either the time or money for it, but I did have to get some forms notarized, and the ONLY place I found to get that done was at the US Embassy in Dar.
So, off to Dar on Thursday morning. I hadn’t thought that the Embassy would be closed on a Tanzanian holiday. But it was, so Thursday was a wasted day. Still, I was able to check my email, and so learned from the bank that I could have used a photocopy of my passport as proof of identity and signature. Obviously that information came just a day too late. So it goes.
All this did give me a chance to talk with some new and old volunteers at the Peace Corps Lounge, eat at Summy’s Street Chicken, and talk with Atiba about what’s next in the Bizcourse. With his help, TechnoServe will send a representative to meet with our course instructors for a refresher session next month. As it turns out, I may also be able to help Atiba a bit. His top brass will be coming in to review the whole bizcourse program. Most of it is operating in southern Tanzania, my part up in the Lake Region is just the newest extension. The brass will be trying to assess the value of the program and to try to figure out how to establish its value and set criteria for success.
Man, I have become so passionate about the need to provide PRACTICAL KNOWLEDGE and to encourage SELF RELIANCE to Tanzanian students, I would JUMP at a chance to support and expand this program. And not incidentally, it would give me a chance to meet the TechnoServe top brass and that could be very valuable as I begin to look at what is next after the Peace Corps. Funny how stuff might work out.
None of the school administration had said anything, but I figured that at a midterm break we should have a midterm test. I hadn’t gotten around to putting one together, so had told my classes it would come in the 2nd week after they return.
Well, the school DOES want to have FORMAL midterm tests, and they make a big deal out of it. A week devoted only to exams, carefully scheduled and proctored (“invigilated”), and suddenly scheduled for the FIRST week after students returned. So I told my classes “Sorry I lied to you, but your test is not next week, it is THIS THURSDAY, get ready for it.”
But then somebody remembered that Thursday was a Tanzanian holiday, the birthday of the 1st President of Zanzibar, and so the Chemistry midterm was rescheduled for the following Monday after all. Except for the minor detail that the official schedule still had it listed as Thursday despite my repeated suggestions that the schedule be corrected. (I didn’t want to do it myself because schedules are in such flux, they could have decided at any time to give the test on Friday or something, instead of next week.
Anyway, I took this turn of events as an opportunity for a quick flight to Dar es Salaam. I didn’t want to spend either the time or money for it, but I did have to get some forms notarized, and the ONLY place I found to get that done was at the US Embassy in Dar.
So, off to Dar on Thursday morning. I hadn’t thought that the Embassy would be closed on a Tanzanian holiday. But it was, so Thursday was a wasted day. Still, I was able to check my email, and so learned from the bank that I could have used a photocopy of my passport as proof of identity and signature. Obviously that information came just a day too late. So it goes.
All this did give me a chance to talk with some new and old volunteers at the Peace Corps Lounge, eat at Summy’s Street Chicken, and talk with Atiba about what’s next in the Bizcourse. With his help, TechnoServe will send a representative to meet with our course instructors for a refresher session next month. As it turns out, I may also be able to help Atiba a bit. His top brass will be coming in to review the whole bizcourse program. Most of it is operating in southern Tanzania, my part up in the Lake Region is just the newest extension. The brass will be trying to assess the value of the program and to try to figure out how to establish its value and set criteria for success.
Man, I have become so passionate about the need to provide PRACTICAL KNOWLEDGE and to encourage SELF RELIANCE to Tanzanian students, I would JUMP at a chance to support and expand this program. And not incidentally, it would give me a chance to meet the TechnoServe top brass and that could be very valuable as I begin to look at what is next after the Peace Corps. Funny how stuff might work out.
Monday, April 04, 2005
I got back from my visit to VEMA without incident, although we were concerned when we reached the lake in the road that had stopped the bus on the way there. But we had one of Sr. Peg's workers with us who rolled up his pantlegs and waded into the lake to find the most shallow course through the water. It was tricky, but with the motor revved up and depending on 4-wheel drive, Peg pulled it through. Otherwise it was just 4 hours of bouncing and lurching along washed out roads.
After one day to repack my backpack, I stayed downtown in a Guesti for the night and headed out for Ngoma in the Ngara region at 5:00a the following day. Ngara is as far as you can go and still be in Tanzania - 400km west, most of it along dirt roads. One of my best friends, Morrison Gunje, was transferred there from Nsumba to be the Headmaster of a new school, just being formed.
Gunje lives within walking distance of Burundi, on the bald top of the highest hill in the region. From his home the horizon is very low - it feels like the top of the world. It is very mountainous, and cold. Almost on the equator, but cold! It is an isolated area, no electricity, and although there is a village nearby, it is 16km from the nearest town, Ngara. But even here, the cellphone network works - globalization survives!
Gunje does have a difficult task. 200 students with only 6 teachers - and more coming next year. He has some nice shells of buildings, but only about half of them have windows and floors as yet. But he is clearly accepted by the community as one of the important town leaders, and the home they have provided him is much nicer than the one he left behind at Nsumba.
His school was still in session, so he was quite busy. Still, we made an expedition to the place where Tanzania, Burundi and Rwanda meet. We took his car until the road changed to a path and then got even smaller than that. So we hiked the last 4 miles or so until even that ended at a sharp cliff. I'd hoped to pee into 3 countries at the same time but at the bottom of the cliff the border is the Kigali River, meandering through a swamp. Our companions said that during the Rwanda war there was a stream of bodies floating down the river. Macabre thought, unsettling. Rather like visiting the Holocaust Museum. Vicious, willful evil unleashed in the world.
The influx of refugees from the war does degrade the security of the area. There are occasional reports of attacks on buses using the area, so there was an armed guard on our bus, both ways. I doubt that his automatic rifle had ammunition. The way he handled the rifle, I HOPE it lacked ammunition.
I arrived home at about 6:00p on Friday, with lots of things to catch up on. But my neighbor came over to inform me that there was a staff party at 7:00 to celebrate the good results our students achieved last year. At least, Hodie growled at him and made him uncomfortale. GOOD DOG! The party was even more gruesome than most. The school board was there as honored guests, and every one of them made a speech. I think there was a contest to see who could make the longest speech. In Kiswahli, of course. I finally bolted at about 11:00p, in a foul mood.
But there was a meeting of my Bizcourse instructors on Saturday, to share experiences of the first few courses. They were all so bouyed up and enthusiastic about the classes and the response of the students that I came away from the meeting with a warm glow that still feels good even now.
This morning, Sunday, the Chairman of the Rotary Club talked to me at the Sikh temple that the Club will provide 3 or 4 businessmen to talk to the classes this coming weekend about starting successful businesses. This feels like things are snowballing, and it really feels great. Now if I can set up this programto continue after I leave in December....
After one day to repack my backpack, I stayed downtown in a Guesti for the night and headed out for Ngoma in the Ngara region at 5:00a the following day. Ngara is as far as you can go and still be in Tanzania - 400km west, most of it along dirt roads. One of my best friends, Morrison Gunje, was transferred there from Nsumba to be the Headmaster of a new school, just being formed.
Gunje lives within walking distance of Burundi, on the bald top of the highest hill in the region. From his home the horizon is very low - it feels like the top of the world. It is very mountainous, and cold. Almost on the equator, but cold! It is an isolated area, no electricity, and although there is a village nearby, it is 16km from the nearest town, Ngara. But even here, the cellphone network works - globalization survives!
Gunje does have a difficult task. 200 students with only 6 teachers - and more coming next year. He has some nice shells of buildings, but only about half of them have windows and floors as yet. But he is clearly accepted by the community as one of the important town leaders, and the home they have provided him is much nicer than the one he left behind at Nsumba.
His school was still in session, so he was quite busy. Still, we made an expedition to the place where Tanzania, Burundi and Rwanda meet. We took his car until the road changed to a path and then got even smaller than that. So we hiked the last 4 miles or so until even that ended at a sharp cliff. I'd hoped to pee into 3 countries at the same time but at the bottom of the cliff the border is the Kigali River, meandering through a swamp. Our companions said that during the Rwanda war there was a stream of bodies floating down the river. Macabre thought, unsettling. Rather like visiting the Holocaust Museum. Vicious, willful evil unleashed in the world.
The influx of refugees from the war does degrade the security of the area. There are occasional reports of attacks on buses using the area, so there was an armed guard on our bus, both ways. I doubt that his automatic rifle had ammunition. The way he handled the rifle, I HOPE it lacked ammunition.
I arrived home at about 6:00p on Friday, with lots of things to catch up on. But my neighbor came over to inform me that there was a staff party at 7:00 to celebrate the good results our students achieved last year. At least, Hodie growled at him and made him uncomfortale. GOOD DOG! The party was even more gruesome than most. The school board was there as honored guests, and every one of them made a speech. I think there was a contest to see who could make the longest speech. In Kiswahli, of course. I finally bolted at about 11:00p, in a foul mood.
But there was a meeting of my Bizcourse instructors on Saturday, to share experiences of the first few courses. They were all so bouyed up and enthusiastic about the classes and the response of the students that I came away from the meeting with a warm glow that still feels good even now.
This morning, Sunday, the Chairman of the Rotary Club talked to me at the Sikh temple that the Club will provide 3 or 4 businessmen to talk to the classes this coming weekend about starting successful businesses. This feels like things are snowballing, and it really feels great. Now if I can set up this programto continue after I leave in December....
