October 23-25

Today is the first weekend with my new host family, on this part of town and I'm already noticing so many differences. For starters, this morning I was able to eat a hot breakfast!! At Mama Elly's house, the housegirl never made chapati and my breakfasts usually consisted of a couple of slices of SupaLoaf (a really huge loaf of bread, pretty ubiquitous on every Tanzanian table) and some BlueBand (again a staple in any Tanzanian household, and I've heard in East Africa.) which is kind of like margarine. Sometimes I would get boiled ndizi or plantain and coffee--which is not really breakfast food. This morning I ate two piping hot chapatis and scrambled eggs with tomato and coffee. I thought I would cry.

There's a lot of things I've been able to notice as commonalities in Tanzanian households. Everyone has just about the same home furnishings, something I should have figured from the furniture stores I've noticed in Arusha. Couch cushions can be sewn right on the street in the Central Market from about 5 popular designs and Mama Mary's house has one thats recognizeable but a little different from Mama Elly's house. They also have these little crocheted doilies that sit along the top of the couch and on the armrests. Every other day when laundry is done, they change the doilies, which are in no way matched to the couch cushions but are still delicately laid out on the back of the couches. It's like a surprise every morning! I pretty much knew what to expect at the house, you remove you shoes at the door and you wipe your feet with the wet towel on the floor. And Mama Mary's family is really impressed at my attempts at speaking Swahili! I know I'll really like it here.


After breakfast I ventured out into this side of town, and found a nice supermarket (like a real supermarket in America!!) that stocked everything from Bertolli olive oil and pasta products and imported wines and cheeses, it was kind of like the twilight zone! It was also quite a shock to read the price stickers, most items were well over the regular price in town and some items--more than in America! A gallon of olive oil goes for 75,000tsh about $50!! A sign that things are really upscale this part of town. I did also notice more wazungu living around here, some work in NGOs and our Danish neighbors actually run a school nearby. The internet is also way more expensive, I used to pay 1,000tsh and now its 1,600tsh an hour, a little more than a dollar now. And the obvious downside, is that I have to take 2 dala dalas, which comes up to about 800 shillings a day, less than a dollar. Boohoo.


Sunday I ventured out to church, this time I learned I'd have to do less walking! Since I'm about half an hour away, I could take a shortcut or take the dala dala. My family here, who is Pentecostal was impressed I was actually religious, but nonetheless were asking me why I'm not Pentecostal. I wasn't offended, its a big deal in the developing world and the Catholics are losing a bunch to them, its alright. Irene, who was going to church later offered to walk me through the shortcut to the church. I kind of wished I'd taken the dala; despite our neighborhood being really affluent, there were so many squatter houses all behind the bigger homes in Sakina further from the main road. We walked through a real slum, and although I was walking with Irene, I felt really uncomfortable as the only westerner walking through there. In comparison to the other part of town, which is more urban the culture of Sunday mornings is still the same here. Even if this part of town has more visibly poorer people, mamas still wear fancy dresses and shoes on their way to church, and everyone is well dressed. It was nice, and I even crossed a wooden plank bridge over a small stream with mamas in heels on piki piki (motorcycle) en route to church. A joke among westerners is also that Tanzanians seem to never get dirty. Even in town in Arusha, its gets very dusty and when I arrived to mass my sandals were caked with mud and dirt but everyone, even Irene around me was still clean and ready for Sunday. After mass, I somehow decided it would be a good idea to take the same route back to Mama Mary's house. Although I'm very good with directions (I am a geography major), the back streets of Arusha which are unnamed just confound me. I got lost. Not that I didn't have any idea where I was, but I didnt know what road to take next. It was scary how quickly bad men prey on women who seem lost or confused, soon men in bars were standing offering to take me on piki piki or taxi to where I lived. For a moment, I understood why very many volunteers don't come to these parts of town. But I knew better, and found a road that look sort of familiar and took it all the way to the main road and made it home. I would hate to call Mama Mary after two days of being in her home, to say I was lost.

Monday morning, I arrived at the GSC office at 9 and after careful instructions from Irene I made it to Sanawari with no problem! As a New York City commuter, I was sure I would get used to the commute quickly. This morning, we drove all the way to Sanawari on the second dala with Bob Marley blaring in the front seat and the conductor singing at the top of his lungs in poor English. Sitting there, it was pretty amazing to study how they do their business. Its interesting with 30 people in a van with a capacity of about 10, the conductors always seem to remember who paid, who didnt and where everyone said they were going. Of course, I'd probably never get away with not paying--Americans don't take dala, ever.

This week, we were told that we'd be working in a village not too far from Arusha, however that community decided to call and cancel their trainings. Due to this weekends elections it would be difficult to find an alternate site for training, so we were just winging it for this week. When we arrived at GSC, we were told we'd be working on a double dug bed here in the demo garden and prepping it for planing. After breaking a forkhoe, it was lunchtime and the other volunteers and I met at Maasai Cafe for some beers and pizza. The most disheartening thing I can see often in town, is when beggars ask for food tableside at some of the wazungu favorites in town. As we sat in the outdoor garden and drank our cider and beer, a mama came over and asked for food or spare change--which makes you feel terrible when you have a plate of food in front of you!! The host at the restaurant had to escort them out, but that dampened our mood. I felt bad not giving food, but had to swallow that I am here to help change agricultural practices. And, as one volunteer put it, "we cant give her pizza its not nutritious, and beer would foster a bad habit.'" Its not exactly the most respectable way to put it, but often as volunteers thats the attitude one needs to take.

That afternoon, we returned to the office to begin training for food drying, one of GSC's new pilot programs with Sustainable Agriculture. We were learning how to make a food dryer out of wood and wire mesh. It was a pretty simple construction that they plan on taking out to remote villages, so that they can preserve vegetables and fruits which they cannot sell or will spoil before consumption. I wish I could be here when we teach it, it sounds like a very good idea. Tomorrow, we are supposed to begin training students at a school nearby, but that is still tentative because of the upcoming election. Which makes me wonder, if this is how people go into hiding a week before election, whats going to happen this weekend?