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.
