Sometimes you don’t know everything...

This experience has taught me so much...especially that I don’t know everything.  With the language barrier, the lack of comforts, the customs, so on and so on everyday there is something new that reminds me that I need people to lean on.  Every minute of every day isn’t always amazing but that’s why we are given wonderful people to help us through.  I have been blessed with a few of those here.  One in particular wrote a beautiful journal entry that really captured a lot of the same sentiments I’ve been feeling but hadn’t quite gotten into words yet...  Heather is such an interesting soul and she has graciously given me permission to post her journal entry below.  I hope you enjoy :)

“Being here has made me realize so much about my life; about the people I interact with daily, about Grande Prairie, Canada, Africa; about everything. About myself. I’ve learned that I’m stronger than I thought I was; that having walls isn’t a bad thing as long as you don’t hide behind them. I’ve learned that I have what it takes to do everything I want to do; to travel, to continue learning and teaching, to inspire people and be inspired, to become a well-established writer and pursue a career in foreign affair journalism. I can do anything, be anything, as long as I work hard enough. I’ve realized that I don’t need to be the one always putting in all the effort in my relationships with friends, men, family, whoever; that

everything should be 50/50 and that being selfish is okay sometimes. I’ve learned to appreciate the little things; a child’s laugh, seashells, doodling, having the ability to build a canopy bed in Canada and destroy one in Zanzibar :) I’ve learned that kids can be great one day and frustrating the next; that’s why they’re kids. I’ve learned that you can’t change the world just because you want to, but that despite how small it may be on the scale of everything screwed-up, making even the slightest difference is still simply that - a difference. I can’t help but look forward with excitement to see where my decisions will take me; which paths I’ll choose to take; which mistakes I’ll make, and which of those mistakes I’ll learn from. 

Ending on an enthusiastic and fulfilled note,”

Heather Ulrich - Grande Prairie, Canada (heatherulrich@live.ca)

 Rules of the Road...

If I or someone I know does not get hit by a moving vehicle while I’m here in Tanzania I will be incredibly impressed.It’s amazing how much I took for granted the basic principle of rules of the road.  Pass on the left, use your turn signals, stop at stop signs, pedestrian have the right of way...and so on.  Surprisingly even with the lack of regulations (I’ve only ever seen a police office watching a road twice, one who was creating a toll..i.e. making the taxi drivers bribe their way through... on the way to the snorkeling adventure, and when the President of Tanzania was in Bagamoyo) I have only seen one accident.  But here are some of the more interesting sights I’ve seen regarding the road...

Piki pikis (motorcycles) are perfectly good mini-vans and pick-up trucks.  I’ve seen a father riding with his wife and two children on a piki piki.  Mom sits sideways on the back with one little one in front of her, Dad sits in front of him, and the baby (maybe 2 years old) sits in the front with its hands on the handle bars looking like he’s driving.  I have also seen a piki piki carrying a load of 2x4s that would definitely need a pick up back home.

While sitting in a traffic jam in Dar, I saw several dala dalas (public buses) just turn and drive over to the sidewalk (dirt path where people and stands are walking/sitting although I use sidewalk here very loosely) and start making their way toward their destination that way.  It caused mayhem for a couple of seconds before the traffic jam just extended to the sidewalk and now instead of a two lane standstill we had a three lane standstill.

Pedestrians never have the right of way.  Unless you are willing to be run over (and I have now come close to being clipped by the mirrors of piki pikis and almost had my toes run over by a dala dala) it is your job as the pedestrian to get out of the way...even if you think you’re on the “sidewalk.”

While taking a dala dala home from Dar one weekend my friend Lauren were given seats on the dashboard of the bus and the driver had to keep craning his neck to attempt to see his mirror around us.

I would recruit stunt motorcycle drivers from Tanzania, they have no fear and they never go slower than 50 miles an hour (even through the heart of town.)

Getting ready to Peel Banana  

Mango Day

Cookie day!

Thanks to a generous donation by my parents I have been able to buy the kids at AMAP treats twice a week.  We started out with banana Fridays...we taught the kids the chant “Peel Banana, Peel Peel Banana...Go Bananas, Go Go Bananas” which they all go crazy for and now every time they want to sing it (which is pretty much all day) they either show me their banana (hands cupped together high over   their heads) or they get this sheepish grin on their faces and they go “Madam...Peel Banana” and then giggle with huge smiles on their faces.  It’s so cute. 

And the bananas are a huge success as well!  One of the crazy things to learn here is that there is very little concern about trash cans.  Trash piles up in the streets there are impromptu dumps all over the town.  So it’s really funny to watch the kids finish              

their bananas.  Rather than look for a trashcan (something we teach kids in the States almost immediately) the either drop the peel or throw it over their shoulder into the kid behind them or walk a few steps out of the classroom and chuck it as hard as they can.  At times this is hysterical, but also very sad.  This country is beautiful, but the amount of untreated trash everywhere really destroys the landscape.

After two success with bananas we changed it up and brought the kids cookies.  Another great day!  They are so funny about snack and treats.  Some gobbled them right up, others ate them like we’d eat an oreo...twist open the two sides, eat the center, and then smash the two ends back together.  Others would horde them away into their backpacks for later and still others would nibble a little at a time so that their cookies would last them all throughout the rest of class.

Mango day was a riot...every single one of the kids enjoyed their slices of mango down to the very core but the best part was that every single one of them was a sticky mess.  Their fingers, their faces, their clothes...everything.  We were probably their mom’s worst nightmare (since all clothing is washed by hand here).  But it was worth it...especially when we realized that we had enough to give out seconds and feed the mommas (wonderfully ladies who wash all the children’s dishes and always prepare their meal for them) as well.

Today we brought all the kids a juice box of mango juice (mango is the common theme because they are about to go out of season here).  Juice boxes were the most interesting snack to watch them take on.  First there is the challenge of the straw, getting it out of the paper and then placing it properly into the bow at the assigned spot.  Next, because we had the juice frozen overnight to keep it cold while it sat waiting to be eaten some of the boxes had a slush like consistency that the kids found so interesting.  Finally for those with just juice they were so cute trying to get every last drop of juice...even ripping the boxes open to inspect the inside to make sure that the box was in fact finished with juice.

On Thursday we’re taking them pineapple...

 Sauti za Busara

What an amazing music festival.  Acts from all over east Africa, people from all over the world, with two new fantastic friends...life couldn’t get much better.  Music ranged from traditional to more modern works but everything was so incredible to watch.  It’s not like being at any American concert or festival...there are no special effects, no stage changes even between acts, no frills, just pure talent on stage for the masses to enjoy.  It was incredible.  One of the coolest parts was getting to show off our resident status with resident festival badges that we wore around all weekend.  Yep that’s me...a resident of Tanzania...no big deal ha! It was great.  The second coolest part was seeing a ton of people that we knew from Bagamoyo at the festival.  So not only did we have badges that said resident but we felt like residents because we knew our way around and there were so many familiar people around.

My favorite performance of the weekend was Muthoni The Drummer Queen from Kenya.  She sang, she rapped in English and Swahili and sometimes would alternate between both in the same line, she played the drums, she danced, she made the crowd interact with her performance by dancing and singing along...she was incredible!  In the middle of the act she gave a mini speech to introduce her next song all about believing in your dreams.  She asked the crowd, “How many of you know those people who have boring jobs that they hate and all they really              

                                        want is to go and follow their dream?” A bunch of people put their hands up and she goes “Don’t be one of those.” The conviction in her voice made you really believe her, it made you believe that she was following her dreams and that she really wanted everyone in the crowd to follow theirs.  She was so great!

Auggie and the rest of our snorkeling crew!

Fleeting Encounters

"Oh, there are so many lives.  How we wish we could live them concurrently instead of one by one by one.  We could select the best pieces of each, stringing them together like a strand of pearls.  But that's not how it works.  A human life is a beautiful mess."

                                      Gabrielle Zevin

I have been absolutely blown away by the awesome people I’ve met while traveling.  Each and everyone of them has been so cool, whether they’ve been following their dream, saving the world, making a return trip to a beautiful place, or all of the other reasons for their appearance in the same place as me I’ve met some truly incredible people.

Ken and Alex lounging on the beach.

Ana Maria: I met on the plane here.  She works for the UN in the Sudan and was on her way back after spending some time in New York.  Originally from Mozambique she’s lived and travelled all over the world, speaks five languages, has a daughter my age who she just advised to take a semester off to find herself (so cool), and believes in peace for the Sudan she’s just not sure she’ll see it in her life time.  When she found out that I was a volunteer she told me about really cool volunteer opportunities through the UN and gave me her phone number and email address and told me that if I ever found myself in Mozambique I must contact her so that she can set it up for me to stay with her family.

Kenn: I met in Zanzibar on my second visit there.  He’s from Denmark and is currently traveling the world researching soccer training regiments because he’s really interested in youth soccer and one day hopes to right a book and open a training school in Dar es Salaam for individuals who want to work on both their futbol skills and also continue their education.  Kenn’s in his mid 40’s and he left a computer tech job in Denmark where he made a ton of money to follow his dream of opening this school.  

Stephen and I in the pilot and co-pilot seats!!!!

Alex: I met in Zanzibar on my second visit there.  She is originally from Barcelona Spain and recently moved to Zanzibar to manage the hotel that I was staying in.  Only 22 she said that she and her three best friends decided that they all wanted to do something different so they all spread out.  One is in New York City, one is in Belgium Germany, one stayed in Barcelona, and she made her way to Zanzibar.  (Kinda reminds me of four other best friends...).  She said she wasn’t totally sure if this was where she wanted to end up, but for now she was loving her time in Zanzibar, she had a good job, and she got to wake up on a beautiful island everyday...life can’t get much better than that.

Stephen: Our pilot from Dar to Zanzibar.  Since the plane we took only had six seats I got to sit in the co-pilot seat and Stephen taught me everything there is to know about flying planes (or at least what all the controls meant).  Originally from Tanzania, but he lived in the states for over 10 years spending most of his time in Maryland where he went to college.  He said he moved back because flying between Dar and Zanzibar meant he would get to fly smaller planes which are more fun to fly than the big jet liners.    He was so nice and gave us his phone number saying that any time we need a pilot to just call him. 

Auggie: I met on the first trip to Zanzibar.  He was one of the divers on the snorkeling trip.  Originally from Argentina, he followed his wife, who is volunteering, to Zanzibar and has been spending his time getting his master diving certification.  So funny, he and the other master diver who was local kept all of us laughing even when Kit and I got slightly seasick.

Alex: I met on the second trip to Zanzibar.  Alex had been to Tanzania a few years ago, teaching English in Dar for seven months and enjoyed the country so much that he decided to holiday here for two weeks.  Originally from England, he had a fantastic accent, was incredibly sarcastic, and really knew his way around so it was really fun to hang out with him for a few days.  However, he did make all of us feel really bad about our lack of swahili skill with his superior ability to communicate with the locals.

Woman from Snorkeling:  I really wish I could remember her name but she’s originally from Greece and said she ended up in Zanzibar because she was bored at home and was looking for a change and that the moment life in Zanzibar stopped being fun she’d make another change...how cool is that!

Even if I never see a single one of these people again it’s really cool to think that our paths have crossed and that sometime in the distant future we might have a fleeting thought about one another again.  Regardless of how brief the encounter there is always the possibility that the connection will have a lasting impact...amazing.

Tuma

Guards carry guns, wear uniforms, and are typically a bit intimidating.  Tuma isn’t any of the above but he’s my favorite guard on the compound.  He has one of those personalities that draws people in...everyone loves him, he’s easy to talk to, funny, genuine, and very approachable.  If any one of the volunteers needs help buying bananas so that we don’t get ripped off with a muzungo price we take Tuma, when Lauren can’t sleep (which is frequently) she goes out and hangs out with Tuma, when we have a question about town or how to get somewhere we ask Tuma, he is the perfect kaka mkubwa (big brother).

He also has a pretty amazing story as well.  Born in Kilimanjaro Tanzania, the eldest of three brothers Tuma has been expected to take care of his family since the age of 12 when his father died.  At 12 I was still going to summer camp and trying to figure out which counselors were dating each other not trying to figure out the best source of employment to find to support my family.  But now at the age of 23 Tuma has a good job (although it is one where he has to work 7 days a week, there are no holidays, and days off are only granted if you’re sick...like you have malaria, not like you have a chest cold and just don’t feel like going to work/class) he’s been able to make enough to send his two younger brothers to school, send himself to school part time and send money to his mother who still lives in Kilimanjaro.  Hearing him talk about how much he misses his family is probably the hardest part of listening to Tuma’s story.  He hasn’t seen his mother in a long time and since Kilimanjaro is over a 10 hour bus ride to Bagamoyo unless she’s able to come here it is almost impossible for him to see her.  Even seeing his brother who is only a few hours away in Dar is difficult.  The only time he can get there is when he’s on the night shift and a visit to his brother means not sleeping that day in preparation for work so that he can make his way there and back.

 There are so many people who have a Tuma like story, and it’s amazing how none of them believe that someone or something out there owes them anything for the hardships they’ve suffered.  Tuma’s story is the perfect example of the self made man and his also one of the happiest, most easy going people I’ve ever met as well.  It’s hard  to think about all the complaining I’ve done in my life when my story doesn’t even begin to compare to the people I’ve met here.  It seems like everyday I find a new reason to be thankful for what I have and the people in my life...so thanks everyone I am very grateful for everything in my life including all of you! 

Jacob with the quilt..which he loved!!!

Jacob

The whole family!

Finally after being in Tanzania for 3 weeks and multiple attempts to find days and times to meet up Jacob and I finally got to see each other on Saturday!  I took a bus into the airport where we met up and we saw each other from across the airport and both got huge smiles on our faces and hugged and there was a lot of “Dudes” and “I’m so excited to see you!”  It’s amazing how friendship works, even though I haven’t seen him in over a year its like nothing has changed.  He’s still the awesome person I meet two summers ago we spent a wonderful day together like no time had passed at all!

After our greeting Jacob took me on my first dala dala ride (dala dala’s are the buses here where they pack them full to the brim similar to subway cards) to get to his neighborhood.  Quite the experience especially in Dar es Salaam where traffic rivals that found in New York City but there are very few established rules of the road so everything is just a ridiculous jokey for position.  On the ride we talked about my volunteer placement and his classes (currently undergraduate students at Dar University are on strike because inflation has caused the cost of living to go up but the student’s stipends have not increased and there is a lot of unrest.  Police opened fire on a group of protesters and hauled a bunch off to jail and used tear gas on huge crowds.  If the students strike for more than three days in a row that sets the entire semester back by about two months so Jacob is hoping for a peaceful resolution quickly).  Jacob is really enjoying his studies, which is a mixture of public policy and sociology, but he finds that it’s really tough being a student and a new father but he is working hard at both jobs.

Once we got to his house where he and Salome rent two rooms we sat down and I gave him the quilt everyone from Kirchenwald helped make...he absolutely loved it!  (which I had no doubt that he would loved...for as long as I’ve known him he’s been a sucker for sentimental stuff).  He immediately called Salome in from the other room so that she could look at it and they discussed how’d they’d rearrange the furniture in the one room so that they could hang it on their wall!

Having the opportunity to meet Salome and Carin was incredible!  Salome is so sweet and is about to restart he nursing internship now that she has recovered from the c-section she had with Salome.  We sat and looked through Jacob and Salome’s wedding photo albums and then I got to hold baby Carin for awhile.  She is the tiniest cutest baby ...at only two months old she weighs about 5kg and is as long as my forearm, she’s so little and so cute!  Her birthday is November 30th and her name means a combination of love/hope/peace in Jacob and Salome’s vernacular language (everyone in Tanzania learns their vernacular language from birth, then has to learn Swahili to go to school, and then has to learn English if they want to continue onto Secondary school).  Jacob and Salome are the cutest proud parents, it was really nice to see.  I think they are both stressed about being new parents and having to finish up school but they seem to be handling it well.  Jacob sings the song “You Are the Light of The World” to Carin at night when she’s falling asleep...so precious!

Salome and baby Carin :)

After introductions and chatting Salome served a traditional Tanzanian lunch (which normally get’s served between 1 and 2 o’clock here) of rice, potatoes, beef in a stew like sauce, and the vegetable that looks like spinach but is called something else here.  And even though I have been a very strict vegetarian since arriving and I can’t actually remember the last time I ate beef I was an excellent guest and ate everything on my plate (I’m sure my parents will be shocked to hear this news). 

Once we finished lunch, Jacob asked me if I wanted to go to the largest mall in all of Tanzania...I said sure and we said goodbye to both Salome and Carin and headed for the mall.  Which was in act very large and very touristy.  The inside housed a store that looked exactly like a grocery store in the U.S. and a store that was very similar to Wal-Mart as well as a movie theater, a fast food store, and lot’s of other places that were very unlike the Tanzania I’ve been experiencing for the last 3 weeks.  It was also kind of a shock as well to not be a minority in this store, about half of the people looked like native Tanzanians while the other half looked like they were “out of towners.”  Spending the last 3 weeks typically being the only white person unless traveling in a group with the other volunteers it was a little weird to be surrounded by so many people that “looked” like me and kept wondering what they were all doing in Tanzania.  While at the mall we stopped in the grocery store to pick up diapers for Carin, and then we headed to the Wal-Mart like store and walked through the camping section and reminisced about K-Wald.  We saw a boy with longish hair, with a headband, and had Birkenstocks on and he goes...”Oh wow he kind of looks like Sioma!”...hysterical...  We found a dutch oven and talked about how good cherry cobbler is made on the fire.  He also wanted to know whether or not a bunch of his campers were back at camp this summer...I was able to inform him about a few.  The funniest part of the days was when he broke out into “Da Moose Song” (the annoying one not the fun one) really loud in the middle of the store and then burst out laughing when he realized that a bunch of people were looking at him.

Getting to hold sleeping baby Carin!!

To everyone that told me to say hello to Jacob he says hi back.  He really does miss the states and K-Wald and would love to be able to bring his whole family over someday for awhile.  Salome especially would love to work as a nurse in the states.  Before we parted for the day we made plans to meet up again a couple more times before the end of my trip to visit the orphanage he use to volunteer at, to go to the 

church that he and Salome were married in and to go to Dar and have me sit in on some of his classes (hopefully my swahili will be much better by then)...The whole day was incredible I couldn’t stop smiling he is such an awesome person to be around!  We both kept saying how crazy it was that we were together, in Tanzania, hanging out...what a crazy life this is :)

 Locals Perspective

Lauren and I in the prison ha

“Oh yea because you live in the muzungu prison.”  Frequently the locals that we meet on our cultural adventures or through our placements or just hanging out around town will ask us to go for a drink or go to a playing of local music and just about every time we have to say no because through the CCS program we have a curfew of 10pm whenever we’re sleeping at the CCS house.  This is in place for our safety because in certain parts of town, like the beach or in certain neighborhoods, late at night there is a considerable amount of drug use.... buuuutttt 10pm seems a little ridiculous when someone who CCS knows and we know from working at placements with ask us to a cultural event and we’re not allowed to go (and this is coming from the girl who had an 11pm curfew the summer after her freshman year of college because mommy and daddy didn’t like that I was dating a boy 4 years older).  I totally get the safety aspect, it was one of the reason I choose the CCS program, because I knew that it would be a really safe way to travel by myself and would hopefully ease some of my parents’ worries.  But when they start calling it a muzungu (which means white person but is in fact used as a not very nice word most of the time) prison it seems like there is a bit of over-protectiveness going on here.

This idea that we are so separated from the community also seems to hinder CCS’s whole purpose...to create a community where cultural exchange is easily feasible and there is a shared absorption of the locals culture as well as the sharing of the volunteers culture.  But let’s face it, TIA (this is Africa), as one local put it so eloquently and if we’re not going to get the full experience what was the point of coming all the way here.

Taking silly pictures on Deirdre's last night!

Hello Goodbye

On Saturday three of the volunteers who arrived the same day that I did finished their program and left for home...The house has felt really quiet and lonely in their absence.  Even though five doesn’t seem like a lot less than eight, it really has changed the whole dynamic.  Two of the five that are still here have been really sick so Lauren and I ended up eating the first meal after Kate, John and Deirdre left alone and it was so sad!

Hellos have always been easier for me than goodbyes.  I love the excitement and anticipation that accompanies the prospect of meeting new people.  There’s also something very fleeting about saying hello, you can really only meet someone once and then they are forever in your life regardless of whether you see them again or not.  All the people we say hello to turn up again in a memory, a fleeting thought, a friend on facebook, a travel companion, or a lifelong confidant.  There are so many possibilities with a hello and regardless if they are awkward or uncomfortable or perfect they are so fleeting that there’s never anything to fear.

But goodbyes are always awful (for me anyway).  Even if they’re a happy goodbye, with all the promise to meet again every goodbye leaves me with a pit in my stomach for a few days because there is always the possibility that they could be permanent.  Goodbyes linger, and after they’re over the reality of them hit you when you’re least expecting it and you end up having to deal with all those feelings all over again.  Goodbyes can be sad, tearful, highly anticipated, or dreaded but no matter what kind they always mean that a distance will be created and no matter what I or anyone does that distance eats away at the relationship that had been building from that first hello.  

The five other volunteers that I came into Bagamoyo with on
Deirdre, John, and Kate's last night.

I can’t believe that I’m already halfway through my volunteer program and watching the three other volunteers leave made me realize how euphoric life has been here because it has been filled with so many hellos but as I hit the halfway point more and more of my time will be occupied with goodbyes.  I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like to say goodbye to the children in my class.  As part of the orientation we went through a long talk about how we all have to be really careful not to create bonds that favor any of the children over others.  The staff explained that by showing favoritism we won’t be doing those kids any favors but in fact might be hindering them.  Children in Tanzania grow up extremely fast, examples of this are everywhere, children washing clothes at age 5, babies taking care of babies, children as young as 7 walking for miles to get to school by themselves.

But what I failed to realize during these talks was that creating strong bonds wasn’t going to crush my kids, but rather me.  Kids are flexible, they can bend and bruise and bounce back skills that we lose as we get older.  And I’m screwed.  I love all the kids but there are some that I can’t actually envision leaving.  What will happen to Ilham?  And the little three year old that is content to be held in my arms for the two hours while I’m teaching the older kids?  Or the little boy who never smiles except when I go around and give all the kids a high-five when we successfully finish a lesson?  Even when I don’t mean to I always end up letting people into my life that it is impossible not to say goodbye to and after every single one I’m crushed.  Boy oh boy do I hate goodbyes.

 Culture Shock

Luckily, because I’m living in a house with the other volunteers and I haven’t been completely forced to use a new language my culture shock hasn’t been that overwhelming.  But here are some of the things that have really shocked me.

Corporal punishment...the teacher in my school walks around with a stick to wail on kids when they fight when they don’t pay attention, and the one that’s hardest to stomach, when they get a question wrong.  All of it is hard to watch, but definitely when the teacher starts hitting them for just genuinely not knowing an answer.  In my eyes there is no justification for that but I don’t really know what to do or say when it happens. 

Mzungu...which means white person and is said to us multiple times a day whenever we walk anywhere.  Children, young adults, and older men love to call it out at us as we’re walking.  We’ve been told that it’s not a deregortoy term but when enough people have said it at you and then giggle afterward it starts to take on the feeling that it isn’t all in good fun.  We’ve learn to ignore it, but it so strange to hear and think about what would happen if someone went around in the states yelling out “white person white person” and then giggled as people walk by.

Time...there is no concept of being on time.  Our program manager even says how things run on Bagamoyo time which just means people are allowed to be a half hour to an hour late for everything.  This is very strange growing up in a house where my dad thinks I’m late when I’m five minutes early.  This concept of time also seems to lead to a lot of sitting around.  It will be the middle of the day when most people should be at work or doing something and you’ll see people taking naps on their front porches for the breeze.  Or people will be at their jobs and just randomly put their head down to rest for 15 minutes while everyone else just keeps working around them.

Personal Space boundaries...or rather the lack of any boundaries, especially with men.  Not only when meeting a man will he offer up a very wet noodle style handshake which just kinda freaks me out they also insist on holding onto your hand for the duration of their conversation with you, whether it be a minute or 10.  We’ve also found that when talking people insist on getting extremely close to you which has been difficult to get use to as well.

The food...is really good but full of carbs to make you feel fake full.  And I’ve found that I’ve had lot’s of talks with the other volunteers about all the foods we miss.  For example I would be ecstatic to eat some cheese (my favorite comfort food) or drink some milk.  Other volunteers are really missing meat in their diet (to which I can’t really sympathize).  I also really miss dippy eggs in the morning...but only the kind my dad makes.  We’ve all talked about the first few meals we’ll want once we get home...mine are macaroni and cheese and sushi.  But all in all I really can’t complain...I’m being very well fed, maybe too well in fact.

Children...everything about them is surprising.  Women will hand over their babies for complete strangers to hold.  They’ll be left alone all day so random children will show up at schools, or orphanages just to play for the day.  Unlike in the states, children are the most generous people here.  Most that we work with only get one meal a day but they offer it to us anyway.  Anything they own they try and give to us while we’re at placement.  But most surprising is how they are just all so incredibly attention starved but an be entertained with the simplest things (like a tire and a stick).  Children as young as 7 have cell phones in the states and can’t make it through the day without the newest and most exciting electronic toy, and more often then not they get bored with it quite quickly.  The children we’ve met could play for hours with a ball and ask day after day just to keep playing with the ball.  There total happiness in this life that is so simple and uncomplicated from my own is amazing to witness and makes me want to strive to live by their example.

Ilham

“Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.” -Leo F Buscaglia

My favorite student at AMAP is a little girl named Ilham, she’s the only one who can say the entire alphabet, count to 100 and has mastered the conventional greetings in English.  I know I shouldn’t have favorites and I pay attention to them all but she is by far the one I enjoy working with the most.  She has the longest eyelashes with big brown eyes and this very shy smile that is only reserved for moments when she doesn’t think anyone else is looking.  She is an absolute perfectionist, I watched her copying lines on her chalkboard and unless her letters were absolutely perfect she erases them and starts all over again.  Not only is she smart, but she’s a sweetheart who likes to help the other children when they struggle, but she has just enough attitude to hold her own when the boy who sits next to her has elbowed her one too many times.  

I wish there was a way to make sure she get’s everything she wants out of life.  Earlier in the weeks a man in the education system came to tell us about how the whole system worked.  Little boys get preferential treatment.  The administrator who came to talk to us explained how he and his older sister (only a year older) went to school together...both were smart but everyday when they arrived home his sister had to wash the clothes, make dinner, 

                      sweep up the house, as well as a variety of other chores before she could even sit down to do her homework.  Then in the morning she would have to get up earlier then the rest of her family to start breakfast.  So not only did she work harder at home and go to bed later than her brother but she got up earlier and was still expected to get her homework finished.  He said that by the time they hit secondary school he had greatly surpassed her in school and then when faced with the choice to go to University the family only had enough money to send one and she had a marriage proposal so the family sent the boy.  I’d be livid.  And with every fiber of my being I don’t want that to happen to Ilham...I want her to be able to go to University and then settle down with the man of her dreams.  I want her to be able to be anything she wants to (and if I spoke more Kiswahili I would ask what she wants to be when she grows up).

At the end of the day I want them all to succeed.  That’s why at the end of every lesson I go around and give each of them a high five.  I make sure I look each one in the eye and gives them a thumbs up when they’ve done something good...and they all know how to “pound it” but I’ve been teaching them all how to pound it and then “blow it up” and it is one of the most satisfying feelings in the world to watch their faces light up at this little bit of attention they are paid.  Even Ilham who is by far the smartest one in the class is never praised by the teacher...no one is.  This kids definitely don’t need to be coddle because life here is hard enough without false expectations but they need to know when they’ve done something really good...we all do. 

Star Gazing

Whether you are into astrology, an avid star gazer, or just someone who appreciates the view on a warm summer night there is something magical about the stars.  The mere idea of them blows me away and when I am lucky enough to catch a glimpse of a shooting star I truly believe that anything is possible.  Up until now I have always thought that my little piece of Pennsyl-tucky, as so many friends at college like to call it,. had the best view of the stars.  Living in the middle of nowhere, with little light pollution really lets the night sky shine in all it’s glory...but never would I have guessed that the view could get better. ..

This past weekend, on Saturday night, after eating a delicious dinner with key lime pie for dessert (which was quite the treat because just the other day we were all talking about how much we missed real dessert...or as our friends from Scotland call it pudding) Lauren, Deirdre, Kit and I laid out on the beach at 10 o’clock and were blown away by the beauty of the night sky.  I have never seen so many stars in my entire life.  It was like being in the best planetarium on the planet, only with more stars that were brighter and they looked like they went on forever.

We stayed there for an hour...contemplating life, or whatever it is we’re all living right now, because it definitely doesn’t feel like real life.  And just taking in the beautiful view.  With absolutely no light and very little regular pollution to cloud out the sky there was so much to oh and awe at.  And we were all lucky enough to see a shooting star...magic!