Home

I've been back in California for nearly 48 hours now, readjusting to the new time zone and managing re-entry shock. I am staying at my sister's house in San Leandro until the weekend when my house will be vacated. Maybe once I get there, I will feel like I am home again.

Although, I won't be posting much to this blog in the next five months, stay tuned for some short films that I will be making soon on my trip to Tanzania and Rwanda which I will post here. Also, I will post information on some of the charitable organizations I am supporting from time to time as well.

Thanks for taking an interest in my travels!

Geneva and the WHO Solidarity Fair

I arrived in Geneva yesterday evening just in time to help my friend Maria and some of her WHO colleagues decorate the WHO lobby for the 13th Annual World Health Organization (WHO) Solidarity Fair. Maria founded this event to set up a fund to assist WHO staff members when they find themselves in emergency situations. These can range from losing one's job or suffering a reduction in hours to health problems causing loss of work. The Fund lends money to staff in need who later pay back the Fund when there are able to do so. The fair is great fun with lots of fabulous food from around the world, music, and crafts. Most of the crafts support NGOs in the developing world and the Solidarity Fund takes a 20% cut. They typically raise around $13,000 through this event. I am on photography duty (taking a wee break here as I wait for more favorable lighting conditions -- it is mighty sunny in Geneva today).

Ali and I spent my last weekend in Morocco with two friends touring the wonderful city of Chefchaouen. This town is nestled in the Rif Mountains and reminded me a lot of Tangier in the late 60s. Lots of hippy types and a wonderful Medina with touts around every corner offering to sell hashish. Well, they don't hustle to women or older people it seems, but our young friend Nate got a 7-10 offers a day. The town consists of white adobe structures, many of which are painted bright blue and soft purple. The Medina is small enough to get around without getting lost and it is very hilly as well. We did some hiking both days (one quite strenuous) ate well, and laughed a lot. Anyone going to Morocco should definitely put Chefchaouen on the must-visit list.

It's hard to believe that I will be home in less than a week. A few more days in Geneva and then one in Amsterdam and off I am homeward bound. Fabulous.

Winding Down

>Well, I have less than a week left here in Morocco, and I must say I won't miss the frigid temperatures, although melancholy is beginning to set in as I contemplate leaving Ali, family and friends here. I fly out of Morocco next Monday and after a week in Europe I will head home. Ali will join me in Berkeley for a few weeks, but he will return to Morocco for the spring semester at Al Akhawayn University of Ifrane (AUI). That means I get to come back for spring break! In January, Ismail, the youngest of the Khejjou clan, will start graduate work in international relations at AUI. Ali are I are very proud of him as being accepted at AUI is no small feat.>We spent a lovely Thanksgiving with American teachers from AUI last week. Ali and a colleague went out the night before to find a turkey for the event. He came home after three hours with three, rather lean turkeys. The turkeys were alive when he picked them out and they were still warm, although perfectly plucked, when he brought them home. They were undoubtedly the freshest turkeys I have ever eaten. They were well received at the Thanksgiving table and just like home, we ate and drank too much.They say it is about to snow in Ifrane and I believe it might. Ali and everyone else around here are thrilled at the prospect, but I am not moved. I have started to store water for him though as they say the pipes freeze up, which interrupts the flow of water into the house, sometimes for days and a time. Lovely. One friend said that it got so bad after three days of no plumbing that she and her husband had to leave town.

I have come down with a virus of some type so I have been passing the days huddled on the couch wrapped in my heating blanket and eating chicken soup. I will be fine as long as the plumbing doesn't freeze up.

The Fez Medina

Yesterday was my third visit to the Fez Medina and I still may go back. It's an amazing experience wandering the more than 500 streets and alleyways that make up this ancient city (Fez will celebrate it's 1300th year anniversary next year!). In fact, this Medina is thought to be the largest contiguous car-free urban area in the world. It houses more than 150 mosques, has the oldest university in Morocco, maybe the world, and is a UNESCO World Heritage site. It has more than 13,000 historic buildings.

The only method of transportation in and out of the Medina are the donkeys who run the streets and alleys earnestly transporting goods in and out. Well, okay, there are carts that men push in, and bikes too, but it's the donkey that keeps that city of 150,000 (2002 figures) thriving and well stocked. And those donkeys carry a lot. There are something like 11,000 retail businesses inside the Medina walls. It's virtually impossible to navigate the Medina without a guide and guides are plentiful. I usually take off on my own for awhile, but then resort to hiring a guide after I have walked for a while in one direction only to find myself back where I started a half an hour earlier. My last guide was a charming 15-year old who knew all the nooks and crannies of the Medina and most of the history as well. We spent five hours walking around and taking photos which you can check out by clicking the Morocco link on the left sidebar.

Most of my time here during the week, I spend here at the Villa Inshallah, Ali's Ifrane home (homes here have names rather than numbers). This area is an old section, full of old stately villas previously owned by the French. Most of homes are remain shuttered, in this and most of Ifrane, because except for the university faculty and staff and service staff who work in the restaurants and markets, most of the homes here are vacation homes. It's said that this town of 15,000 swells to 150,000 during the winter and summer holidays. So, it's a nice quiet place to hang out in and it's easy to get work done because there is essentially nothing to do. Well, there are nice walks to take and people to visit in the evenings, but not a lot to lure you out of the house away from your projects. Ali and I have taken many driving trips to the surrounding towns villages, and forests in his fancy new car too. One would never know he hasn't driven in Morocco for 26 years. Of course, it helps to have a vehicle that intimidates everyone else on the road.

Reflections on volunteering

Volunteering in Tanzania was a rewarding, at times frustrating, yet totally inspirational. Here are the things that worked and didn’t work and what I would do differently the next time.

Volunteer Work: Like most volunteers, my expectations going into Tanzania were quite high, and as it turned out, fairly unrealistic. I imagined that by sharing my more than 25 years of expertise in teaching I would be able to positively impact teaching in Tanzania, at least at the school in which I was working and that I would also improve my own methodology by working with colleagues in Tanzania. I suspected that the language teaching methodology in Tanzania was out-dated, relying on rote memorization and language practice that was abstract and archaic, and I wanted to do what I could to raise awareness of more communicative teaching methodologies. As it turned out, there weren’t many opportunities to discuss teaching methodology with my Tanzanian colleagues primarily due to time restrictions and multiple interruptions in the teaching schedule. The time we did have together during our 20-minute morning breaks, we spent talking and arguing about issues outside of teaching and sharing ideas on broad and diverse topics. The one teaching issue that came up a lot centered around the question of disciplining students through corporal punishment. (While our colleagues politely listened to our reasoning against corporal punishment, I don’t think we influenced them at all on this issue).

My Canadian teaching colleague, Nick, and I essentially replaced faculty at the school, freeing them up to attend to extra-curricular matters. The irony is that Nick and I did a fair amount of team teaching together, which allowed the two of us to explore ideas and teaching techniques and learn from each other. But this did not happen with the Tanzanian teachers. So, if I were to do this again, I would strongly recommend that I team-teach with in-country teachers, on some sort of regular basis, to afford us the opportunity to learn from each other in planning and implementing techniques and strategies.

Living in Tanzania. In Tanzania, I lived in a house with, on average, 28 other volunteers, and 13 or so African staff who lived and worked at the “home base.” It was great to get to know so many sensitive, caring and committed individuals from Tanzania, Europe, Australia and the U.S. I learned a lot from them and developed friendships that I know will be long lasting. Two months, however, was a long time for me personally to live in such a communal setting (I was lucky that we were never more than three in my bedroom), and living in the very comfortable home base, both sheltered and isolated us from the realities of life of most Tanzanians. So, when I do this again, I will sign up with a volunteer organization, such as Cross-Cultural Solutions, for a shorter time, say two weeks, to get oriented to the country, area, culture, and volunteer opportunities and need. Then I will branch out on my own for the remainder of my time. In Moshi, for example, I saw ads for apartments and houses that looked comfortable and safe for around $250 a month. I could have rented one and either continued to work at my placement (assuming that would be possible) or approached other schools and NGOs in the area to do volunteer work on my own. There is plenty of need there.

While I feel I fell short of my goals with regard to teaching, most of my other expectations were surpassed. Living and working with Tanzanians was a richly rewarding cultural experience that will impact my life for years to come. I am also satisfied that my work there had a positive impact on my students at St. Theresia Secondary School. They certainly learned a lot about American and Canadian culture through our work with them as we dispelled myths and stereotypes about our cultures and explored the universalities of the human experience. I am sure that they benefited from the exposure they had to new ways of teaching and learning. I also hope that the pen pal project we initiated will continue to enrich their lives in the future.

Finally, I had hoped that I would find ways to continue to lend a hand in Tanzania after I left, and those opportunities are in certainly in abundance. I look forward to working with woman’s organizations and orphanages in Tanzania and Rwanda to assist them in developing projects that are sustainable and improve the lives of women and children there. And I look forward to returning to Tanzania in the future to following up on my work and preserve the unique friendships I made there.

Children in Rwanda

These children captivated my guide, David, and me on our last day in the north. We had driven up to an eco hotel with good views of the twin lakes and had found a bench to sit on that offered lovely panaramic views of the lakes and the mountains and farms surrounding it. We were a few hundred meters up the mountain and there were farms below us, down a very steep hill. David and I talked for a few minutes when sudenly two children appeared out of nowhere and began chatting us up. They had climbed up an incline that was at least 85 degrees, in barefeet. Within minutes and hand full of children appeared and more continued to come until we had a small crowd.


David began asking them about school and their dreams for the future and then he asked them if knew any songs, which of course they did, and so we were serenaded for a bit. Dancing followed and then it was time for us to leave.

David remembered he had brought some pencils for village children so we said we would go to the car and then return with a little surprise for them. When we returned five minutes later, the children were no where to be seen. But as we approached the bench there were shouts, it seemed from all over the valley below as the children informed david that they had been threatened with a beating if they came back up. Sure enough, two hotel guards appeared and said they children were a nuisance and they had told them to leave and not come back. After David explained that he had some pencils for them, the guards relunctantly agreed to let them come up, as long as they promised to stay away after that. When David told the children they could come back up, a few brave souls came half way up, but when they saw the guards they ran back down screaming. It took about fifteen minutes to conjole them all to come back up (when David asked the guard to throw their switches down, we started to make progress) Eventually, they all came up and David conducted an elaborate method of doling out the pencils and the kids, so appreciative, vowed to stay away form the hotel and study hard. Then the scampered down the steep hill.

You can see that they are dressed in rags, and some had clear signs of malnutrition. They all had professional careers in mind (doctors, lawers, engineers) for their futures. Their good cheer and hopefulness belied their dire living conditions

Home in Morocco

Well, I finally made it to Morocco and it is a joy to be here. It's wonderful to be reunited with Ali and see old friends, and I am blown away by how fast the computer connections are here!

Ali has a lovely little villa in the unitersity town of Ifrane high in the Atlas Mountains. It's cold here but there is fireplace and we have heating blankets and will be getting some area heaters this weekend, so it's all good, as they say. I have a number of projects that I am working on for folks in Tanzania, so I plan to just hang out at home and work most of the time while Ali is in class. It feels really good to have a home again!

Ali is enjoying his students at the university and is planning to stay the second semester. He will come home for winter break and then come back to Morocco in January and work until May. I will become an "Agreeing Widow" as they say in Holland. I guess one of us will have to travel over spring break this year.

Now that I have unlimited access to a computer, I have started to post photos of my journey in East Africa. I have put up some from Rwanda trip on the sidebar to your left. You can view these as a slide show, but should choose the "captions" option so you can read about what you are seeing. Tanzanian photos to follow!

Kwa Heri East Africa

I left East Africa on Thursday night and am in a state of shock to be in Amsterdam where it is cold and noisy and modern. On Thursday I spent the day at an airport lodge in a traditional hut-room in the midst of a dessert full of enormous, almost grotesque cacti. I spent time near the pool, in the shade or in my hotel room with the air conditioning blaring. Then, less than 14 hours later, I find myself in Amsterdam at 7:00 AM in the dark with a temperature of about 6 Celsius and nothing but a few layers of cotton clothing.

So, I dashed to the hotel, dropped off my luggage, and hit the stores. Within an hour I was decked out in long pants, a sweater, a warm jacket, gloves and a scarf, and I was ready for Amsterdam. I have spent the past three days walking around the charming streets of this picturesque city, shopping for necessities for Morocco (sleeping blankets, thermal underwear, etc.) and sleeping in! The sleeping in part has been my favorite, as I now feel I am on vacation.

But it was sad to leave East Africa. I have made a lot of friends there and although I was only there for two and a half months, it began to feel like home. At times I get pangs of homesickness for Tanzania.

Visiting Rwanda was an incredible experience. I was hosted by an organization called New Dawn Associates and spent five memorable days with staff from this organization, a charming family of gorillas, staff and children from two orphanages and women from Women for Women International.

Rwanda is a stunning in its beauty. The whole country looks like a finely decorated mosaics of multiple hues of green and red. Outside of Kigali there are virtually no private cars so the highways are teeming with people walking to and from their various engagements. The women here are particularly beautiful and with their brightly colored kangas and graceful figures they are stunning to look at. The country is quite clean, in fact, plastic bags have been outlawed, which cuts down a lot of the trash, and the main roads are pretty good.

The genocide comes up regularly in conversation and there is still concern about the Interhamwe insurgents in the Congo who still make raids across the boarder from time to time. The orphanages I visited were started right after the genocide and many of the children have no idea who their families are, or rather, were. There are youth in their 20s still living in the orphanages because youth don't strike out on their own until they get married, and most of these youth have no family left. Ironically, the children in the orphanages look much healthier and cleaner than the children one sees on the streets as poverty is still a major problem there. It is common in the country side to see children dressed in layers of rags, dirty and many with signs of severe malnutrition. There has been flooding there that displaced hundreds of thousands of families and destroyed crops, and draught conditions earlier in the year also negatively affected crops as most agriculture here is based on rains rather than irrigation systems.

Rwanda's main money making exports are coffee and tea, but the government is in the process of trying to establish the country as an Information Technology hub in the region to diversify the economy and increase revenue. There is controversy as to whether this will work, but it seem like a good move to me because countries that are based on agriculture can't really lift themselves out of poverty. Agriculture just isn't a viable economic engine. Kigali looks a like a modern city in many respects. There are high rise buildings and a very modern shopping mall and very wealthy neighborhoods. They also have a national celebration called "Tax Day", complete with ceremonies and parties in the streets in which everyone congratulates everyone for doing their part to build their country.

I went to the Hotel Milles Collines from the movie Hotel Rwanda, but the manager Paul ...can't remember how to spell his last name, is not quite the hero he makes himself out to be, at least with people I talked to and he is actually vilified in the press, although he might run for president! They say he only really helped those who could pay, and actually turned some people over. There are also really hard feelings toward the French, who it is said, worked the road blocks with the military during the genocide. Rwanda does not have diplomatic relations with France to this day.

I am running out of time on this computer, so more later.

Women for Women International in Kigali

This morning I visited the office of this organization and spent the morning meetings with the women and touring the facility there. This branch of Women for Women is serving more than 5000 women this year. Women receive a monthly stipend from their sponsoring sister in the US and come to the center twice a month for workshops on health and hygiene, business training, human rights, the new laws regarding marital rights of women (they now have property rights and rights to keep their children in cases of divorce), stress management and support groups.

They also come to training classes held at the center which include tailoring, knitting, basket making, beading and jewelry making, and tie dying. Next year they will expand to agricultural production and beekeeping. The organization is also developing a training program for development of cooperative associations so that women can pool their money and energy to achieve greater returns on their investments.ù

I sat in on meeting of women who were fairly new to the program. They talked about their experiences with micro businesses and tried to glean the lessons learned from the failure of these enterprises in the past. They also talked about the importance of working together and helping each other, and the need to become independent financially. Their individual stories were moving to hear and it was great to see them together so hopeful and excited about embarking on this new journey.

Then they had a lot of questions for me. Of course they wanted to know about my family - how many kids, my work, and marital status. Interestingly, they asked about marital status after they asked about kids. They had deeper questions though. They wanted to know what life is like for women in the US and if they work together in associations, if there are poor people in the US, and how people greet each other and work together. They also asked me to thank other sponsors for the help they give to women in Africa. It was very moving to be there with them.

The director told me that women's lives improve dramatically even after they have been in the program a few months. They are more confident and get more respect from husbands and people in their communities. Wife beating is reduced as men see women as economic partners...and people who have the economic means to leave bad marriages if they want to.

Check out Women for Women International on line and see how easy it is to make a difference in a woman's life.

More on Gorilla Trek

I am back in Kigali now. Still trying to get the cash flow problem resolved. In the end the only thing to do was to have my sister send me the money via Western Union. My bank refused to raise my daily limit because I could not remember my password. I am still really irritated by that as I spent $40 calling the bank with no sucess. Anyway, lets forget that because my blood pressure is beginning to rise.

Back to the gorillas. I stayed in a very nice lodge a few kilometers from the park for two nights. The morning of the gorilla trek, as I mentioned earlier, it began to pour before I even got up. At 5.30 someone knocked at my door to wake me up and I begrudgingly got up and wandered around in the freezing cold room looking for my clothes. Because of the cold I decided to leave on my flannel pajamas to ward off the cold. I then put on my long pants, sweatshirt, gaiters, shoes, silly safari hat and my rain slicker and then plodded through the soggy grounds to the dining room.

After breakfast we drove to the park and I was placed in Aygashas group. After our orientation we drove to the park entrance and began to trek up the misty mountain. We walked for about thirty minutes through family farms to get to the entrance to the rainforest. There we met our porters and the security patrol. Here we were informed that we could do "Number one" in the bushes to the right (girls) or left (boys). We were also told we needed to get a hand shovel from someone if we wanted to do "Number Two". After that was taken care of we then proceeded to climb a huge rock barrier to get into the forest.

That done we found ourselves in a thick jungle of bamboo, trees, stinging nettle bushes and lots and lots of hanging vines. For the next two hours we trudged through the muck of the forest floor, often stooped over or crawling on hands and knees. Most of the time the vegetation was so thick we couldnt see more than two feet in front of us. We followed each other by voice alone. Every oncein a while there was a little clearing and we could stand up and see a few feet all around. The mud was intense and abundant and many times I thought of giving up, especiallly at the times I heard the person a few feet ahead of me yell "Oh shit!" We were constantly battling the vines which wrapped themselves around us hlding us in place. Keep in mind we were also climbing up the mountain through all this. I dont think I could have made it withoutthe bamboo. Happily it was everywhere and one could grasp it and pull oneself up the mountain.

At one point the guide told us that we were really close but I didnt believe him. I thought he was trying to humor us to keep our morale up. But finally, we reached a clearing and there the family was. We spent and hour googling at them and then started the climb down which only took about 25 minutes because we were going straight down, no path to follow or anything. I did a lot of slipping and sliding on that part. When we finally reached th rock wall, we were covered in mud from head to toe and we rushed to our respective hotels to take hot showers.

The older couple that was hiking with us; he 65 with half a heart (literally...apparently he had had heart surgery in the recent past) decided that they had had such a great time they were going to repeat the experience the next day! Amaszing.

When they say this was an experience of a life time, I take it to mean, it is something that you would never want to repeat, interesting as it was.

One the way back to Kigali (a four hour drive) we stopped at a wonderful orphanage that was started by an 82 year old woman in August 1994. This American had lived in Rwanda for 49 years, left during the months of the genocide,and then returned as soon as it was over to start take care of the multitudes of children left orphaned after the carnage. The orphanage was clean, the rooms spacious, and the children looked healthy and happy. Rose, the founder,died in 2006 and she is a legend in the area. I was particularly excited to go to this orphanage because I had read about it a few years ago. A photographer had gone there in 2000, I think, and trained the children to take photos. Some of the photos were exquisite and were being sold to raise money for the orphanage. I had tried to buy them online; the site was not working well, but I downloaded by favorite ones on my home computer. Imagine actually going there and meeting the children! Wow. Such a wonderful experience.

This orphanage is so well managed it should be a model for other orphanages in Africa. Pictures to follow when I get to Morocco.

Gorillas in the Mist

Well, I did it. And I have a certificate to prove it. I climbed a mountain to visit Aigosha and his family. And we had a very charming visit with this gorilla family. If you haven't guessed by now, I am in Rwanda. They say that visiting the mountain gorillas is a once in a lifetime experience that one shouldn't miss. I was skeptical last night and early this morning, but now that it is over, I agree.

I arrived in Rwanda on Friday night and spent the first day touring the city and talking about the genocide with my charming guide, David. David was born in a refugee camp in Uganda where his family fled during a violent period shortly after independence. He had pretty grueling experiences to share and clarified a lot for me about this 1994 genocide. More on all of that later.

In the late afternoon, we headed up to the Virungu Volcanic Park which was a sumptuous drive through continuous mountains, every inch of which seems to be cultivated. The roads are pretty crowded, and David drove the route constantly blurting out "Hopeless" as his country men and women wove in and out of traffic, and dashed across the street in front of us. It was a three hour drive and after a quick dinner we headed for bed because we had to get up at 5:30 to get started on the gorilla trek. I was not particularly keen on this gorilla trip but everyone in Tanzania said it was a must, so I signed up. Truthfully, I had been dreading it. I looked at it as a pennence to for the lovely ride I had had up to the park.

My heart sank this morning at 4:45 when a fierce rain storm woke me up. I did buy a rain slicker and gaiters to protect me against the elements, but I was not looking forward to hiking up a volcano in the rain. But luck was with me as it stopped raining just as we began our climb (there were eight of us in Aygasha's group. | was cheered to see an elderly couple in our group and I, of course, hung out behind them the whole trip. That way I gave the appearance of being a caring, rather than an out of shape, hiker.

The hiking goes like this: Trackers start out early in the morning to find the gorilla group you are looking for and once they locate them, they send information down to the guides. When we started out they told us that it would be a half an hour hike, and I was secretly overjoyed. Problem is gorillas don't always stay in one place and our little group did quite a bit of flinting around before we found them.

Now, when I say hiking, you need to understand that there are really no trails here. Sometimes we followed gorilla trails, but most of the time, we forged out own path through the thick, thick, thick rain forest. It was hideously muddy; in fact, at one point, I stepped in mud that reached me knee and when I tried to pull my foot out, my shoe and gaiters remained stuck. The porter kindly dug out my equipment, cheerfully washed it off in a mud puddle and had me back on the way in minutes. So we walked and crawled through the thick vegetation for nearly two hours. Just when we thought we were close, they moved (they were foraging for food) and at the point where I said I can't do this anymore, the gorillas appeared before us. Aigasha was with three females and a couple of kids. He humored us by staring at us and scratching a bit and then he took a nap. Wife number one groomed one of the kids for a while and then she took a nap. Eventually they all took a nap, except for the little babies who played together and alone the whole hour (visitors are only allowed one hour with the gorillas). There much more to tell about this amazing adventure and I have lots of video to show interested parties, but I don't have much time left on this computer.

Here is an item that might surprise you; it really surprised and dismayed me: There are no ATMs in Rwanda. I can't get any money out of the bank and I owe the tour company that I came with beaucoup de money (This,by the way, is an excellent tour company that focuses on educational visits, including volunteer work...more on that later). I hope I can work something out when I get back to Kigali tomorrow. Monday is figuring out the money day and then I spend Tuesday with Women for Women International, and then I am off to Morocco to see my beloved husband, with a short stop in Amsterdam.

More later from Kigali. Forgive the misspellings!

A Tanzanian Wedding

On the weekend a friend of mine who runs an NGO (WEECE)that supports women who operate businesses invited me and a friend from CCS to attend a wedding of the daughter of one of her members. The wedding was a Christian wedding although the bride was Muslim (we assumed that she converted). We only attended the reception as those Christian ceremonies can be quite lengthy, but we had a great time because there was an action-packed agenda and plenty of beer and spirits flowing. It was quite a boisterous affair too, with lots and lots of dancing.

First the wedding car arrived at the hall (YMCA) and the family members of both the bridge and groom danced around the car for awhile while the rest of us watched and swayed with the music. Then we left the car and headed into the hall. A half an hour later the groom's family got up singing and trilling as the raced down the aisle to welcome the bride and groom and then they proceeded to sing and dance as they escorted the couple all the way back to the front of the hall. When the bride and groom were comfortably ensconced at their table in the front of the fall, it was our turn to get up and dance to welcome them, which we did enthusiastically. Later each member of the groom's family was introduced to us and after that was done, they all got up and danced. Then the bride's family was introduced and then they danced for a bit.

Later the traditional African Cake (a roasted goat) was brought in by a large group of cooks who, of course, danced down the aisle to the front of the room swinging the poor goat to and fro with great pride and exuberance. Later, there was a sweet cake cutting ceremony and then lots of good food. After we ate, we guests formed a conga line as we danced down the aisle carrying our gifts to present to the bridge and groom. As I was the only Mzungu dancing, I imagine they were a little surprised when I appeared before them, but they masked it very well and were quite gracious when I shook hands and congratulated them. Unfortunately we have an 11:00 curfew at the home base, so we had to leave early and missed the partying part of the party.

This was considered a small wedding as there were only about 300 people in attendance, but the hall was quite elaborately decorated with bushels of roses and yards of streamers and bunches of balloons. Typically the families will take a few months to fund raise for a wedding (I'm not sure which family has this responsibility) by soliciting monetary gifts from their extended family members to help pay for the festivities because except for the wealthy, most people here cannot afford to put on such a celebration on their own.

Last days in Tanzania

I have only four more days here in Tanzania. It seems impossible that I have been here for two months already. Saddly, I have so much to do in these four days that I am sure they will zoom by at neck-breaking speed. So I thought I might spend some time reflecting on my experiences here in the next few posts.

Things that I will miss include:

The wonderfully friendly and extremely polite and sympathetic Tanzanians. I have made many friends here and many acquaintances whose company I have thoroughly enjoyed and will sorely miss.

My fellow teachers at St. Theresia Secondary school and the many fascinating hours we have spent together discussing teaching, Tanzania, religion (too much of this topic for my tastes) the U.S, and life in general. This has truly been an invaluable cross cultural experience for us all.

My lovely students who sometimes, I admit, have made me a little crazy. I know I have shocked them on more than one occasion with my ideas and teaching style, but they have been wonderfully welcoming and open. You will see them at a screening of the movie that the llth graders and I are making and see why I have been so charmed by them.

I will also miss the head massages I get from my students when I sit down with them to do group work or do some filming. On these occasions, there are always three or four hands in my hair kneading, twisting, braiding, exploring this new texture.

The sights and sounds of Tanzania, including the beautiful kangas and kitenges the women wear, the call to prayer and church bells, gospel music and Tanzanian hip hop called Bongoi Flava, seeping from cars and doorways, and the rich smell of fresh fruit and vegetables, and occasionally Indian spices.

The children you meet on the roads who sweetly smile and greet you with "Good morning, Teacher. How are you? I am fine!" all in one breath. This, as much in the afternoon and evening as in the morning. The children here are so delighted to meet foreigners, maybe because we look so odd or because we are novelties here (there aren't many Mzungus in this area). They run along side the cars and vans waving gleefully, yelling "Hello!!" or "goodbye!!". Of course, we always worry they might fall and get hit, so we wave and smile but also yell, "Acha, acha" which I think means get back from the car.

Things I won't miss:

The horrible roads, full of boulders and gullies and gigantic craters. So bad that if you don't hold on to the seat in front you will be tossed off your seat entirely.

The decrepit daladalas that are so packed with people you can barely breathe. Actually, I don't really mind the daladalas that much, it's just that yesterday I rode two that about killed me. On the first, I was one of the people who couldn't get a seat so I had to stand up hunched over another person, folded at the waist. If she had turned her face toward me I would have had to kiss her we were so close. Then another poor soul got on and also had to stand stooped over right next to me. At one point as I mumbled something to myself about the deplorable situation I found myself in, he said "This is Tanzania" When I told him they needed to get more daladalas on the road here in Tanzania, he simply assured me that "It will end eventually" which did not console me in the least. When the daladala stopped again, I thought to myself, "Please God, let someone get off" and instead another person got on and I found myself perched on one leg with an even more contorted posture, I said "okay, this is enough. Let me off!!" I'm sure the people in the daladala thought that I was a silly, soft Mzungu, but I don't care.

On the second ride I at least got a seat, but was only able to half sit on it as there were many people sharing the two available seats with me. We were so squashed in at one point that a fight broke out between two women, forcing me to take two children on my lap so as to avoid fisticuffs. It was sweltering hot and the gears on the van crunched horribly; I couln't imagine how we could make it to our destination, but of course we did, and I felt that I had regained some of my pride among daladala rider.

Later, I was advised not to get on a daladala if I can't get one of the front seats. Sage advice which I will follow assiduously.

I think those are the two things I won't miss here.

No wait, the horrible lack of resources for schools should be on the top of this list. The dearth of books, pens and pencils, rulars, paper, chalk, electricity that children and teachers must endure.

More later

International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda

Yesterday I had the opportunity to sit in on a hearing at the ICTR. The ICTR has four courts and they all have been on recess since I have been in Tanzania. Fortunately, all four trials resumed this week. The ICTR has completed 66 or so cases since its inception in the mid nineties. There are 18 current defendants. Most of the accused have been convicted and are serving prison terms; a few have been acquitted. This tribunal only hears cases against those who were in positions of leadership and authority in Rwanda at the time of the genocide. There are 8 more cases pending trial and the ICTR is supposed to close in 2008, but at the pace these trials are proceeding, I doubt they will make it.

The case we heard yesterday has been in session for four years. The accused are four men who were ministers in the transitional government in 1994 after the Rwandan president's plane was shot down. The person who was testifying (in his own defence) had been the minister of foreign affairs. The ministers of health, trade, and something else were his co-defendants. The courtroom is quite full as there are three judges who sit in the middle of the room, with assistants and court reporters around. Facing the judges, but with his back to the spectators sits the witness. There is a curtain that can conceal the witness in cases where witnesses must be protected. This witness/defendant was in full view of the spectators' section. Then there is a small army of prosecuting attorneys on the right and another small army of defense attorneys on the left, along with the other accused.

The attorney conducting the cross examination was an African-Canadian with a wry and satirical sense of humour who had the court guffawing on a number of occasions; however, his examination of the defendant was devastatingly serious and composed of two parts. First he establish (successfully) that the minister indeed was in a position of power at the time to stop the genocide, and then he focused on a speech the minister had given to the security council in early May 1994. It took about two hours to get all the information on the table because it is an extremely laborious process to conduct an international trial in three languages; there was a lot of paper shuffling so that everyone in the court were on the same page, etc.

We were all appalled when we finally heard the full contents of his speech, which included absolutely nothing about Tutsies being massacred, and created the impression that it was the Hutus who had been under attack by the Rwandan Liberation Front (can't remember exactly the the name of this group). Now, indeed, the RLF had been responsible for killing some Hutus somewhere in the country, at some time, but this speech, delivered 5 weeks after the genocide had started, completely covered up what was really going on in Rwanda. When he was questioned about not mentioning the Tutsi massacres, he stated that he had said "Hutus and others." it was realy unbelievable.

I think this guy is doomed and I hope he rots in prison for the rest of his life. There is a prison at the ICTR site where all of the accused live for the duration of their trials, and I read in the paper last night that prisoners there are all on a hunger strike now because there is talk of moving the final eight trials to Rwanda. They worry of course about getting a fair trial there.

It was quite moving to attend this trial and to see that these gross violations of human rights will not go unpunished.

A visit to the Big Town

As much as I like our little Moshi Town (population 5,000), I am often frustrated by the limitations it has in terms of resources/goods. This weekend I went the Arusha which is an hours drive from here to solve my resource problems. Arusha is the third largest city in Tanzania (300,000 population) and it feels like a bustling metropolis. This town, in fact, features large in East African politics. It's the seat of the East African Community and the UN Rwandan Tribunal and the place the politicians in the region meet to discuss current events/policies/issues (things like refugee crises, what to do about Mungabe and Somalia, etc.)

My goal in going to Arusha this weekend was to shop. And I was quite successful. A friend contacted one of his homeboys in Arusha to assist me on my shopping spree and we got it all done in about three hours. Here's what I bought: a classroom pencil sharpener, a rain slicker and gaiters (things you put on your pants to protect your clothing from rain, mud and prickly things on a trek) music cds (and I got a Tanzanian movie too while I was there), reading glasses (I had left mine in Moshi) and the big score - a mini microphone for my video camera (This I found on my own after visiting 8 electronic shops in Arusha). None of the above items are available in Moshi so I was extrmeley pleased with myself all day today.

I also got more batiks from the street vendors who were so grateful for my purchases that a group of them (stationed outside of my hotel) accompanied me on all my excursions in the afternoon. My friend booked the hotel for me and I was slightly alarmed when he told me it was $20 a night, but he assured me that it was a good hotel and it was! The restaurant had good food and was a good hangout in the evenings, the rooms were basic but clean and there was a TV (I watched Nigerian soap operas at night) and a telephone from which you could not make outside calls (!).

Sunday morning I got up and took a daladala home - always an intriguing, somewhat alarming experience for $1.50. On Friday my friend John drove me to Arusha because he wanted to show me the orphanage he is building half way to Arusha. He is a small-time tour operator who sinks most of his profits into this orphanage. The orphanage is in his home village which is at the foot of Mt. Meru, the second largest mountain after Mt. Kili, so it's cool there but with tropical vegetation. After seeing the orphanage we spent some time with his family who live sort of next door. It was a great excursion. There was a tiny calf (two weeks old) at his father's farm who delighted everyone with her antics, the favorite of which was playing tag with the roosters. Who knew farm life would be so entertaining.

Now I am home in Moshi, getting ready for work tomorrow. I have only two weeks left in Tanzania and I am already starting to feel meloncholy about leaving.

More on Teaching in Tanzania

Somethings are the same everywhere. Last week as students lined up to file into the classroom for a test, they were required to roll up their sleeves, pull out their pockets, and open their pencil cases (for the few who have such things)so that the supervising teacher could make sure they hadn't prepared any testing aides. I remember doing that at Mission High school where I worked as a teacher's assistant many, many moons ago.

It's always a challenge to prepare lessons when you are limited to a chalkboard for the most part, but there are other frustrations of teaching in Tanzania as well. Students, for one, are not used to our interactive, communicative methodology. They primarily learn English through rote memorization and grammar drills, so when I put them in groups or pairs to brainstorm a topic, discuss an issue, or analyze a reading, they are confused about what is required of them. This lack of preparedness or independence impacts their ability to perform on the national exams they have to take, so it's not surprising that only about 28% (according to an article I read in the newspaper) earn high enough scores to continue their educations. I graded the papers of Form 2 students who take national exams at the end of october and was floored to see that only about 5 our of 42 passed the grammar portion of the exam.

Then there is the annoying practice of students standing up whenever they answer or ask a question. When I do quick questions to practice a grammar point, students are constantly popping up and down to participate. I want to tell them to sit through the exercise, but worry that the faculty will complain that we spoil the students and not invite mzungu volunteers back.

The class schedule has been Really flexible for the past two weeks, and so we haven't taught much as classes were cancelled first for working in the shamba picking corn, then for preparing the school for their first graduation, then two of the levels went home for a week to collect their school fees for next year, and they have trickled back this week, so we have had about half of the students in class this week. I only have two more weeks here, so I anxious about getting things done. One class and I are making a movie of St. Theresia which Nick and I and one other person will use to recruit pen pals for students in the first three forms. I have been staying late to work on this project with them, but it has actually been a lot of fun. This week they are writing scripts and figuring out what photos and video footage and music they need and we will start filming next week. I'll put together the movie when I get to Morocco, which is in three weeks I think!!!

Mob justice

Yesterday my fellow volunteer and colleague at St. Theresia rode the daladala home and was relieved of his wallet as he was getting off the maniacally crowded van. When he alerted the other passengers to the theft one of them pointed to a man in a blue cap who had gotten off the bus with Nick. The man ducked into a house in an alley and a crowd ran after him. Minutes later they dragged him kicking and screaming back to the daladala, reached into his pockets and returned Nick's wallet. The man then tried to get back on the daladala, but a now very large crowd managed to pull him off the bus as he desperately clung to a railing. Then one in the crowd picked up a very large rock and slammed into into the thief's head. A crowd of about thirty surrounded him and proceeded to beat him. Nick, alarmed, begged people to leave the thief alone, but a few in the crowd advised Nick to leave them alone and go home. Which he did.

We have been told horror stories such as this by numerous people. Typically, we are told, a furious crowd will throw a tire around a robber and burn him alive. This happens at least once a week in Dar es Salaam, according to my colleagues at St. Theresia. Everyone we talk to here says that thieves spend one or two days in jail and then are let free, so people feel they have to take matters into their own hands. It's unfortunate, but it teaches a lesson, they say. This is only done, they assure us, when it is 100% clear that the person they are planning to burn is indeed guilty. From my civics book, I know that such acts are illegal here, but I doubt that people are arrested or prosecuted for such crimes. It's unnerving to even think about, much less witness. Rick was quite shaken up by the experience.

My guess is that people resort to this behavior out of extreme frustration. Life is hard here and people work very hard to meet the basic necessities of life. They have to save up for things like cell phones and head sets (two items two colleagues lost to thieves recently) and are enraged when things are taken from them.

At the same time corporal punishment is fairly widespread here. Children receive thrashings at school, not much fuss is made of domestic violence, and prisoners receive a certain number of canings along with their sentence for crimes committed.

In school, teachers are very stern and strict with students. They even take switches to class with them. It's no surprise then that students are very quiet and serious in class. This initially drove me crazy. My teaching style is informal and relaxed and I like to joke a lot with students and tease them to set them at ease. They have a hard time figuring out how to relate to me, and Nick too, for that matter. But we are slowly getting used to each other. The other day, I handed Nick a switch and suggested we bring them to class to throw the students off. The faculty burst out laughing at the absurdity of a Mzungu using a switch on students. I didn't do it yet, but I will just for fun one of these days. They actually would work quite well as pointers.

On Safari

Well, it's settled. I don't have to go the Serengeti after all. I saw the Big Five (Water buffalo, lion, rhinoceros, leopard, and elephant), and much, much more in the Ngorogoro Crater and Lake Manyara this weekend. And I saw the Serengeti from a distance...well the beginning of it anyway, and not only that, it's not the time for the great wildebeest migration, when a million or more of these creatures travel to the Serengeti from Kenya for procreation activities. So, I feel like I can spare myself that expence and time (It is a full days drive to get there, so it's hard to do it on a weekend.)

The Ngorogoro Crater is part of a large national park here that is a world heritage site. To get there we drove for three and half hours and then crossed the Great Rift Valley (which stretches from Jordan to the end of Tanzania), then over a mountain range to the crater which is a collapsed volcano formed some millions of years ago. The crater has the largest concentration of wild life in Africa, I believe. We spent our first day driving around the floor of the crater looking for and observing hundreds of zebra, thousands for wildebeests, a few elephants and hippos, three lions, a cheetah and lots of gazelles and birds. I was surprised that I loved it so much as I have never been a big zoo fan, and this was like going to a super deluxe zoo. It was very relaxing on one level because you stay in the van the whole time and when you spot some animals, you sit and observe them for awhile. But it's also exciting on another level to find the animals, especially those that are hard to find, like the lions and the elephants who happily forrage right next to the vehicles.

We spotted three lions, who clearly were not hungry, lounging about watching the wildebeests in front of them and the zebras behind them. The wildebeest and the zebras wanted to go to a river which was precariously close to the lounging lions, so they watched the lions for about ten minutes without moving. When the wildebeests concluded that the lions were not planning to attack, they send a scout to go down to the river and after another five minutes the others cautiously followed. The zebras at the other end did the same and in the end both groups made it down to the river with no interference from the lions. At one point something spooked the wildebeests and a group dashed up the embankment, but they then later calmed down and went back down. It was so interesting and fun to watch all this. On our way out of the crater we spotted a leopard sauntering down the road, but she dashed into the brush when our driver slammed on the breaks. We saw her watching us from behind a bush, but then he got bored with us and slipped away.

Day two we went to Lake Manyara which is a 250 square kilometer reserve area with scrub dessert, beaches and thick Forest. (the lake itself takes up the majority of the kilometers). We watched a clan of baboons grooming and playing with each other, tons of elephants foragin about, a couple of elegant zebras munching on trees and lots of zebras and wildebeests. Everyone was pretty much involved in the same activities: foraging and feasting. We also came across three lions who were having a big-time feast on a wildebeest. Oh yes, and the flamingos. Hundreds of them, but too far to see well, so at one point at a rest stop near the lake, I wandered off to get a closer look and was called back after a very short jaunt. I was then scolded by a ranger type person who said it was too dangerousbecause an elephant or rhino could appear and attack. Rhinos, I was surprised to learn, can run at 35 miles per hour, which is pretty darn fast.

Afterwards we had a picnic on a ridge above the lake with wonderful views of the lake, elephants foraging below us, and all manor of exotic birds flying above us. We also watched a girafe, every so slowly, walk down the beach. My travel companion suggested she might be suicidal walking on the beach alone because what would She have done is a Rhino had shown up. It felt prehistoric because there was no signs of human habitation: no structures or noise or even, for the most part, people. We all felt somewhat melancholy when it was time to leave and one person in our group (of three) was so moved by the experience that she is planning another safari in the Serengeti in a few weeks.

Not far from the Ngorogoro Crater and Lake Manyara is the Olduvai Gorge were the Leakey's discovered the oldest human fossils - the birthplace of our earliest ancestors. I would love to get over there as well, but I think it is too far (and expensive) to go for a weekend.

Instead, I have booked a trip to Rwanda where I will go on a gorilla safari in the misty volcanic mountains in the north and then in Kigali I will visit the office of Women for Women International, an organization that sponsors women in war torn countries to get a new start in life. I have been sponsoring women through this organization for five years or so. I think I might have had a sister in Rwanda a few years ago and if so, I might try to visit her.

So, I am becoming an wild life enthusiast in my old age. Fun.

Studying French in Tanzania

Yesterday I had my first refresher French lesson. I met my teacher, who is not really a teacher but a hairdresser from the DRC, at a hotel bar near my home base in Kiliminjaro. I walked to the place early and had the great joy of drinking a Kiliminjaro beer. Our home base is a dry zone, so that Kiliminjaro was heavenly, especially because I walked for thirty minutes in the boiling sun to reach the restaurant. Patrick Bologna is a very nice man so he didn't mind that I directed the French lesson myself. I don't expect to learn a lot of new things, but it's good practice just to sit and talk to him in French for and hour and a half. We will meet two times a week and unfortunately for me, he wants us to meet at his shop rather than the hotel restaurant because it is far for him to travel and it is a bit noisy there. I guess I could bring a Kiliminjaro to the shop.

Originally we agreed to meet from 5 - 6:30, but the sun sets at 6:30 here and it is about a ten minute walk down a dirt road with no lights to get home, so we have been told by many people actually, not to walk that road after dark. Patrick agreed that I should get home before the bandits come out, so we'll meet earlier in town with enough time for me to take the daladala back.

I am looking forward to talking to Patrick more about his life here and in Congo and smoothing out my basic French in the process. I am paying him $10 and hour which is quite a good wage for someone who is not really a teacher.

This weekend I am going on safari! We'll be away for two nights in a crater called Ngorogoro where you can see the big five on a good safari weekend. More on all that later.

Getting around in Kiliminjaro

Well, I did it. I took the Daladala home yesterday from Moshi. It was quite an interesting and even fun experience. The Daladala refers to the van/bus that Tanzanians use for inter and intra-city travel. It is basically a minivan which comfortably seats about 13 people. It's really cheap (20 cents)and goes everywhere all the time, except maybe late at night.

So yesterday I climbed in and got myself a comfy seat near the door. It looked to me as though there were three empty spots were a person could sit, so I didn't expected much of a wait. The daladalas won't leave until the van is stuffed. Three poeople got on a minute or so later, and I thought to myself, "Oh, good. It's full. We'll be leaving now." But we cotinued to wait. Then three more people got on and I thought, "Now it's really is full. Off we go!" Well I went through this process about five times as more and more people entered the van and moved to the back black hole that was the back of the bus. When we finally left, we had about thirty passengers, a number of whom had to stand hunched over filling up every inch of space in the van.

The good thing about the daladala's is that they are so weighed down with humanity and therefore have to drive slowly, so I wasn't so worried about traffic accidents (as I usually am) The ride took about 20 minutes through town and then on the highway. You inform the condutor who stands near the door with his body hanging out through the window when you want to stop and he pounds on the van so the driver knows to stop. It was a great adventure and now that I know how to ride the daladala, I will take it more often.

Daladala, I am told comes from "dollar dollar" which is what the conductors used to yell out the windows to attract passengers, although a dollar is way too much for a doladola these days.

Graduation Tanzania Style

Yesterday Nick and I attended the Form Four graduation ceremony at St. Teresia's. We were told that it would start at 9:30 and that we should come at 8:30 to help with the final preparations. The graduation started at 12:30 and we left at 6:30. It was a wonderful event. Each class performed dances and songs that were lively and touching and there was a drama skit and, of course, there were the usual boring speeches. Nick and I each prepared some remarks in Swahili and we were quite the sensation. We also gave each student a geometry set. Everyone was impressed with our Swahili even though we read most of it; in fact, a while later, one of the speakers mentioned our names (the whole event was conducted in Swahili) and we later learned that he had warned the crowd to be careful of what they said around us because we probably spoke Chagga too. The Chagga is the main tribe in this region and, of course, has its own language.

There were some rituals that were new to us, such as children feeding bits of cake to their parents to thank them for their support (and we did that too with the other faculty later on) and there was a DJ and MC for the event, so it had a party feeling most of the time. The DJ played music at even the slightest lull in activities, filling up all the dead seconds and minutes with popular music. It was an excellent way to keep the spirit alive and flowing.

When students received their certificates (with a music back ground of course) parents and other family members met them after they ran the shaking-hands gauntlet with the dignitaries and gave their children decorative wreaths, gifts and flowers and lots of hugs. It was very moving to see the joy and pride that everyone felt. Completing secondary school here is no small task for the students or families, making this graduation very special to everyone involved.

Following the ceremonies came the food. Great pots of rice, beef, chicken, bananas, and lots more that we didn't eat arrived. There were about 300 guests attending, and we were fortunate to get our meals from a side kitchen which we really appreciated because lunch wasn't served until 5:00! After eating we proceeded to take photos of the graduates and to top off the day, as we left the school at 6:30, Mount Kiliminjaro was out it all its majestic glory and we got lots of pictures of it. The mountain is mostly hidden from view by clouds; I have only seen it three times since I have been here.

So it was a wonderful way to spend ten hours here in Tanzania. Nick and I are developing very close relationships with our students now and it's going to be real hard to leave them in a month. I may have to come back next year.

This afternoon I am off to interview my prospective French instructor, and if all goes well, I'll start class on Tuesday afternoon.

Kwaheri (Bye) for now.

Celebrating 100 years in Tanzania

On Wednesday I and a fellow volunteers attended a birthday celebration of a Tanzanian woman who has recently completed 100 years. It was quite a celebration. We started with a mass attended by 21 priests, 20 or so nuns, a large choir and about 200 guests. Fortunately the mass was held outside so we didn't have to kneel a lot,but there considerable bouts of standing and sitting. The choir was wonderful, very gay and rhythmic and the women's trilling added a special flavor to the service. We were lucky to have been invited by and insider so after the ceremony we were joined the family inside to sit and celebrate with Mama Yetu Maria (the centenarian) and her family and all the priests and nuns. There was incredible amounts of incredible food and lots of beer and hard liquor that everyone enjoyed. It was great fun to see nuns drinking St. Martin and beer and Mama Maria had two large Kilimanjaro's(a local beer) herself. There was singing inside and lots of rituals (sharing of meat and drinks, gift giving, grandchildren presenting dances). We were there for seven hours and it seemed like a few minutes.

The party was in a district near ours, a few kilometers up the mountain so it was lush and cool. A very lovely day. Tomorrow is the grand graduation ceremony at St,. Theresia's. Nick and I will be giving short speeches in Swahili and we have bought geometry sets for all the graduates (most hope to continue to their A level studies after they take entrance exams in October.) It will be, we are told, and all day affair with more than 300 family and friends attending. We watched students rehearsing songs and dances this afternoon, and it looks like it is going to be a fabulous affair. More on that to come.

Hope you all are doing well.

Volunteering in Tanzania

CCS brings in new groups of volunteers each month and volunteers stay for varying lengths of time. A large group left on Saturday, and, saddly, I lost some of my favorite people. Now we are a group of about ten and life has quieted down a bit. We all fit in one van to go to our placements each day and it is a lot easier planning trips to town with a smaller group.

I and one other person (a teacher from Canada) are working at the secondary school. Others work at preschools and primary schools, orphanages, health clinics and hospitals. One placement is in a nursery at a nearby prison. The prison guards and other staff and their families live on the prison property, and there is a day care center for the children of prison workers. This is considered a minimum security prison (petty crimes include defaulting on debts or taxes) and the prisoners are seen working the numerous gardens on the property in their bright orange jumpsuits. Sometimes they even help out at the nursery.

We work in the morning, come home for lunch and then organize afternoon activities. I have been walking into town in the afternoons. It takes about an hour, is good exercise, and provides me an opportunity to see what is around in my area and meet people in the community. Tomorrow we are going to an NGO that works with HI/AIDS to learn more about the epidemic here. And we also are planning a visit to Arusha to visit an ex-Black Panther who operates art program for youth. Next week I will stay at school in the afternoons one day a week and I have arranged to have a French tutor two afternoons a week to brush up on my French. One of the women from my school will join me in the class, and possibly a fellow-volunteer (Monica).

The struggles that people face here to overcome obstacles brought on by poverty are the most difficult aspect of my work here. Only 12% of the population has electricity and less than that own phones, and access to clean water or water in general is a major problem here. The need is great here and we are often asked to help out monetarily. I have been asked by three students this week to sponsor them by paying their school fees so that they can continue their educations. Their stories are heartbreaking to hear. At the same time there are many good people doing inspirational work to alleviate poverty and illness here, and that sustains everyone I think. We focus on the good work rather than the difficulties. That's the best way to manage.

Tomorrow I will go on a field visit with a woman’s organization here to meet women who have started micro-businesses. We will also attend a birthday celebration of a woman who is 102!

HIV/AIDS in Tanzania

The president of Tanzania and his wife, a few weeks ago, publicly announced that there were gong to be tested for HIV which is major considering that there is still a lot of stigma around having HIV/AIDS here. I think the infection rate has been reduced to 7 or so percent in the last years although the official figure is probably modest according the a health minister I sat next to on the plane to Zanzibar. Still, the infection rate is much lower than other countries in the region, particularly those in southern Africa. There is a major push here now to have people tested and there are reports every day in the newspaper about the numbers of people showing up at the voluntary testing clinics. One article, however, stated that people in one district stopped going to the testing centers after it was revealed that the health care personnel where spreading rumours in villages and towns about the people who tested positive. Hopefully, they will get folks from out of the area to continue the testing there.

There is a lot of talk about HIV/AIDS in schools too. My Form 4 students were required to write a message on the topic for their Monday test, and most talked about the importance of using condoms and staying with one partner. They still have a lot of misconceptions though, such as the virus in spread only by prostitutes, that once you have it it is a death sentence (antiretroviral drugs are available here at fairly low costs), that it came originally from America, etc. I found a great article in the newspaper that discusses the gender politics of the disease....women are most vulnerable to getting HIV/AIDS for a wide variety of reasons...and my students have been assigned to read and summarize it for class on Monday. They have a lot of questions about the disease so I think this will be a really enlightening discussion for us all. More on that later.

I'm off to take a walk to town. We are about 7 kilometers from town and some of us have taken to walking in rather than getting a cab. It only takes an hour and you notice so much more when walking.

Corn Shucking

We have come up with a new tongue twister for our students: How much corn can a Muzungu shuck if a Muzungu could shuck corn. Muzungo refers to white person here. The kids really do run along side the car or van, yelling "Good morning, Muzungu!" We are not sure if it is an endearing title or not. It seems it is to the kids anyway.

Well I am happy to say that I have shucked my last ear of corn. Three hours
in the hot sun shucking corn was all I could take today, and the kids
with great sympathy suggested I rest. And I did. Happily they finished
today so tomorrow we go back to class. I have never looked so forward
to teaching than I did today when it was announced the shucking was
done. I am bringing them all tasty treats and the boom box and a Stevie Wonder CD and we will celebrate tomorrow.

I just received an email from Camila who oddly enough is also shucking corn in Colombia. She has moved from Bogota to live with the Peace Community that she has been supporting. This is a community of farmers and corn I suppose is a major crop there. Please send positive thoughts her way as this is not an easy or particularly safe environment to be working in.

Jaali is back in the Bay Area living in Oakland with his dad, Jon, and attending
fourth grade at Thousand Oaks Elementary School in Berkeley. I Thanks
to Natasha for her generous help in getting him settled in school. Camila says that Natasha and Jon have made plans to get together to speak Mandarin! Great news.

hope you all are well.

The Harvest

Well, harvesting corn is no small task, let me assure you. I spent four hours with a group of girls on a corn stack, ripping the corn of the stalks and then stripping them of their husk. Our stack barley looked different after four hours! It is grueling work, but the girls sang a lot and taught me songs, which made the time pass a wee bit faster. The headmaster came and yelled at our group for working too slow and gave us to two additional corn stacks to do. I left at noon and it looked like it was going to be a long afternoon for my workmates. We probably will have to work in the fields tomorrow as well as there were still a whole lot of corn stacks to do when I left.

Some students stayed at the school to clean the classrooms and yard. They sweep and mop the classrooms each day, wash the chalkboards, and sweep the courtyard as well...all on a rotational basis. Imagine students in the states having to do that.

A particular low point was when the girls starting shouting "madam, Madam, look at your pants!" I yelped when I saw the giant black spider cheerfully crawling up my pants and we all beat it off and murdered it on the spot. I am glad that we will finish up this nasty business soon.

I think this is a good learning opportunity for students. At the very least it will inspire them to stay in school and study hard for their exams so they can escape the drudgery of farm life.

Must go as a line is forming behind me to get on this computer.

a Weekend in Zanzibar

Last weekend a bunch of us flew to Zanzibar. It is culturally very different from the mainland as the population there is primarily Muslim. On the whole Zanzibar seems more wealthy than many places on the mainland. Someone said there are more than 250 mosques there with a population of less than one million. The mosques there are nondescript buildings; the only way one recognizes them is by a small and narrow seating area in front. It was nice to hear the call to prayer and watch the little boys in their white bou bou's and skull caps playing soccer in the streets.

We stayed in a beach hotel outside of Stonetown, the medieval city which was comfortable and lovely. A highlight of the trip was a sunset cruise we took. We sailed around the Indian Ocean for two and a half hours, serenaded by a good singer/guitar player and with tasty "bites" and wine. Then three of us took one of our colleagues to dinner in Stonetown. We visited museums and the old slave market and wandered the medieval streets of Stonetown for a few hour on Sunday before we flew back to Kilimanjaro. It was a quick tour, but a great break.

Week three at St. Theresia's and I am really feeling at home there. Wonderful.

More on Teaching in Tanzania

Today I experienced that delicious feeling we all know of having an unexpected day off of work. My CCS teaching colleague, Nick, and I arrived at the school today to an assembly in the courtyard. The first clue that something unusual was going on were the girls dressed in slacks with a kanga (wrap skirt). Neither girls nor women wear pants in public here. It turned out that the entire school was going corn harvesting today! Since I had a skirt on and a bushel of essays to grade, I bowed out and returned to home base. It's wonderfully cool and quiet right now so I making major progress on those papers. The students and staff will continuing harvesting tomorrow, so I'll dress appropriately and join them then. The school has some acres of corn which is what the staple food Ugali is made of, and everyone pitches in to grow and harvest it. On the way to school today we, in fact, passed many fields with young people harvesting.

Yesterday all the students had exams. Since there are no copying facilities, the testing procedure involved the students filing out of their classrooms and waiting in the courtyard while the teachers wrote the tests on the board. This is done three times as all students taking a battery of tests all morning every Monday - three periods worth. Testing is a major activity in schools here. Form 4 students (seniors) will soon begin to prepare for their national exams which they must pass to enter the next level of studies -- Form 5 and 6, which is basically junior college. There is a major examination at the end of primary school which screens students for high school. If you don't pass, you don't go to high school. Many don't' pass and must either go to work, or if they are lucky attend a vocational school. We visited a youth center yesterday where students who didn't pass the high school entrance exams are studying to work in the hotel and restaurant industry. They cooked us a mighty good meal and were most hospitable. And there should be a lot of jobs since this is the launching point for Mt. Kiliminjaro.

One thing that shocks us all here is the widespread use of corporal punishment in the schools. I have seen teachers yank students ears, swap them upside the head and deliver blows with a switch to the hands. Many teachers take a switch and chalk to the classrooms each day. Teachers at my school insist that this is the only way to control the students. Maybe that is why the students are so excited to have us Muzungus (foreigners) at the school.

The walls of my classrooms are beginning to brighten up. I have brought in maps and have flip chart sheets all over with our brainstorming activities and problem solving tasks. I was very excited to bring in my boom box, but it turned out that only one classroom has an electrical outlet and that one is pretty shoddy. It works if a student holds the plug about half way in the socket and gives it a slight twist to the right... and remains in this position. Thankfully I have batteries and it is pretty easy to buy more in town. As soon as we are done harvesting the corn, we will start working on a song.

My Form 4 Students are going to start writing a small book about their lives here in Tanzania as well as letters of introduction. I will use these along with photos and a ten minute movie about St. Teresia I plan to make to recruit pen pals for them at Berkeley High and maybe some high schools in SF, including the remedial high school we share the building with at the Mission Campus. We are all psyched about this project.

well, back to those essays.

A weekend with the Maasai...lengthened version

A few of us spent and incredibly interesting weekend with a Maasai family, a man and his four wives in their family compound. We spent most of the first day singing and dancing with them and playing with the children. Then we camped in their courtyard and got up the next morning, hiked down a large hill to the well, and hauled water...yes on the top of our heads...up the hill. Thankfully we didn't have to go fetch the firewood...that would have taken the whole day.

We had our meals in the main hut which is the first wife's home. Women build the ho uses here out of wood and dung plaster. The houses are small with a small general area space which is adjacent to the cow section and goat quarters. We had out meals on a makeshift dinning table in the cow's area. Some people had to sit in the main area (which could accomodate three chairs total) to sit at the other side of the table. The food was great and it was amazing that it was all cooked in a tiny cooking hut.

We camped in their courtyard which was the common outdoor area for the other houses. All in all there were about ten children it seemed. After hauling water and eating breakfast we too a long, long walk with a Maasai man and then we made it to the Maasai market which sold everything a person or animal could need. We still had out Maasai capes on and caused quite a stir in the market. People were falling off their stools laughing...we assume with us rather than at us. Some women were kind enough to get up and straighten out our cape dresses.

The Maasai, as you have by now surmised, continue to practice a traditional culture and life style... although they do use cell phones. Tiny children wander the great Maasai steppe with their goats and tiny girls have babies strapped to their backs as they do household chores. The group that led the tour have been major donors to a school project in the area and the young people see the value of education and are excited about studying and speaking English. One of the young women in the family just completed high school and plans to go to a teaching college in January. So the modern world encroaches bringing advancements and complications. Female circumcision is reportedly still practiced by the Maasai, but many people told us that the practice is, fortunately, being curtailed.

Teaching in Tanzania

I mentioned earlier the problem of resources here for teachers and students. Yesterday I erased the blackboard and then was talking to the students for awhile and when I turned back to the blackboard to erase something, I discovered the eraser was missing. I thought I was having an episode of early-onset dementia. Suddenly a student, Queen, ran out of the classroom and when I asked another student where Queen was going, she said Queen was getting me the eraser. Well, it turns out that all of the four teachers teaching at that time share the eraser! Apparently, another teacher has sent a student in to get the erasor while my back was turned, and sure enough about ten minutes later the teacher next door came in and asked to use the eraser. Today I am in town and planning to buy one for each classroom. Also, there is nothing on the walls. Not a slip of paper or worn out picture. Almost no books for students, and of course no electronic equipment. Yet the students are serious about their educations. They are smart and constantly surprise me with their insightful opinions and knowledge.

I really caused a ruckus in the teacher's room the other day when I announced that I was an atheist (well, they asked me). Pandemonium prevailed for quite a while as my colleagues, fanning themselves vigorously, shouted out questions and exclamations. It didn't occur to me at the time that I was in a Christian High School (one of my buddies at CCS pointed that out to me when I got home!) They calmed down when, by way of explanation, I pointed out that there were many people who called themselves Christians or believers, who were guilty of committing heinous crimes; so that believing was not exactly the criterion for a moral life. I brought up our boy George and the head matron, said to everyone in a tone oozing with sympathy, "Oh, yes, That's why she says such things!" It's really great fun to hang out with colleagues here, on the other side of the world, and share ideas and opinions. We agree that we are learning a lot from each other.

Next week I will continue with my civics class for 9th graders, English with 10th graders, and I'll add on a composition class with seniors. It's such an incredible experience to work with these students. I feel truly blessed, although it's is painful to witness the hardships that they face. My 10th graders have lofty aspirations for their futures. They want to be doctors and pilots, lawyers and politicians (one girl insists she will become president one day) engineers, teachers, religious leaders, mechanics, nurses and computer scientist. They love American rappers (I think they will be thrilled when I start doing music with them) and movies and all things American, especially the people. The girls seem more determined to succeed than many of the boys. My heart is so full of hope fore them.

Maybe I like them so much because they fight each other to grab my things at the end of class and at least four of them escort me to the teacher's room after each period. I feel like a screen celebrity or something.

Some of the folks at home base tell me they can help be download some photos, so when I get back from the Maasai village on Sunday, I will try to post some photos of the wonderful people we have met in Tanzania. You will be very jealous.

Until then...

Hamjambo!

What a great experience it has been here in Tanzania these last four days. The weather is fabulous: warm during the day and cool in the evenings. And its very green here at the bottom of Mt. Kiliminjaro. The mountain is visable from many different vantage points here and it's stunning. Too bad I can't upload photographs.

I have started my teaching job at St. Theresia secondary school and am loving that too. The students stand up when an adult walks in the room and when they answer questions, and they also escort you to the teacher's room, Your books in hand at the end of class. They are courteous and polite and seem genuinely happy to have foreign teachers. I'm loving the respect you get here as a teacher and as an elder.

I am teaching two levels of English (9th and 10th graders) and Civics. There is one civics book that the other civics teacher and I have to share. Of course the students don't have any books. In my English classes between 25 and 40 students share around 8 of the readers and grammar primers; that's the most frustrating aspect of teaching here-- the woeful lack of resources.

All of my 28 co-volunteers are wonderful people to know and I am learning a lot from them as well. The food at the base home is sensational. Mostly vegetables and lots of salads and wonderful stews and I have quickly learned to like Ugali (the corn-based staple) too because the sauces are so delicious.

This weekend I am going with a few others to spend the weekend at a Masai village. We will meet and eat and dance (!) with them and help them with their chores. I can't wait. I have always been drawn to the Masai because they are such tall people. I think my ancient ancestors must have come from this rejoin.

Our computer at home base is very slow and we are only supposed to use it to conduct quick business, so I am here in town today using a very fast computer for about 50 cents an hour. We have lectures and Swahili lessons in the afternoons after our placements so there hasn't been a lot of time to get into town, but the pace will slow down in two weeks and then I'll have more time to post.

Right now I have to grab a cab back home for Swahili class, so Bedai for now.

Forward to Tanzania!

I could live in Amsterdam... easily. It's beautiful, cultured, cafe's are ubiquitous and so are the coffee shops for that matter (that's where you can buy weed and other drugs... not that I have visited one), and you can get on quite well with English here. Then there is the socialized medicine and humane euthanasia practices too.

I read a an article by someone of the police force in a tourist magazine in which the writer offered tips on how recover if one takes too much weed or what they call here "smart" drugs (LSD, mushroom, etc.). The advice was to drink lots of water and eat sweet things.

Oddly enough, with all the cycles out and about, no one wears helmets. Many people ride with their babies and toddlers on the front and back seats...all of course without helmets. A cab driver said that the Dutch cyclists don't have accidents, only the foreigners do. Of course their are great cyclist lanes too.

I have been walking around enjoying the architecture and shops and buying supplies for my teaching gig in TZ. My big coup was a functioning CD player for 6 Euros that I got at a flea market. I haven't found any thrift stores here, but happily there are lots of outdoor fleamarkets, so you know I am having fun. I bought a bunch of CDs as well and batteries too in case there is no electricity available in the classroom in TZ. All in all I'm psyched about getting there.

There is a great movie theater down the street from my hotel which I have been frequenting lately. I saw "Becoming Jane" which I loved and "A death at a Funeral" which was silly-funny but good too. I recommend both.

Okay, I am running out of time of this computer. I will post again from Africa.

More on U.S. Food AID Programs

I have made it to Geneva for a visit to my good friend Maria. Now I have unrestricted computer access for a few days. Hooray (It was 6 Euros per half hour at my hotel)

I found an important message buried in my mail box from MADRE. It seems that the U.S. farm bill is up for reauthorization in September and MADRE is campaigning to change the terms of the bill on food aid so that more money can go directly to farmers in poor countries instead of all the dollars going to agribusinesses here (see previous post for more information on this topic).This issue directly affects the people with whom I will be working that's why I raise it here.

From MADRE's website:

The UN World Food Program found that it was able to obtain 75 percent more corn to feed hungry families in Africa between 2001 and 2005 by buying corn from local farmers in Kenya, Uganda, and Zambia instead of from US factory farms.

Yet, the current US Farm Bill requires that all federal food aid be produced in the United States and shipped abroad by US companies. As a result, transportation and overhead account for up to 65 percent of the budget for food aid. Since 2002, rising shipping costs have meant a 43 percent decline in the amount of food distributed as aid. And because food aid must be bought, packaged, and shipped in the US, it can take months to reach people in Asia, Africa, and Latin America, where most US food aid goes.

This system also undermines long-term solutions to world hunger by dumping US-grown food on countries where local farmers could be providing comparable resources. Instead of using US tax dollars to buy food exclusively from corporate-owned US farms that already receive billions in government subsidies, food aid should be purchased from local farmers in the Global South.

MADRE's Call

MADRE supports a proposal for the new Farm Bill that would allow 25 percent of emergency resources to be spent on food grown by people in the country or region where aid is needed, rather than by large-scale US factory farms. Unfortunately, the House of Representatives dropped this provision from its version of the Farm Bill. But in September, the Senate is scheduled to debate the bill. Make sure that your Senator goes back to Washington from their current Congressional recess having heard from you and your friends about the importance of distributing US food aid efficiently and equitably.

Call your US Senators and tell them:
- Your name and address (to confirm that they represent you in Congress).
- The Senate should support a provision to allow up to $300 million of food to be bought near the places in crises during emergency food distributions.
- Food aid should aim to meet urgent needs and promote long-term solutions to world hunger.
- Food aid should not be driven by the interests of US agribusiness and shipping companies.

To find the phone number for your Senators, use the tool on this webpage: http://www.visi.com/juan/congress/ or call the Senate switchboard at 202.224.3121.

Please forward this action alert on to friends in and outside of your state - together we can make real change happen.

Greetings from Amsterdam

Amsterdam is wonderfully sunny and cool, making my 5 -6 hours of day of walking quite pleasant. There are a lot of us visiting Amsterdam this week, in fact, I haven't been able to go to the main museums because the lines circle around blocks. It's good that I am coming back in October and December... I don't think there will be crowds then. My hotel is in the center of the town on a quiet street. Today I wondered in an area of town that reminded me of being in Turkey. It's a mixed neighborhood of senior citizens and immigrants from Turkey, Africa and other such places. Prices are a lot lower there!

Today I read in the Herald that CARE has decided to walk away from 45 million dollars in aid from the federal government because they feel the US food aid programs harm rather than help the countries they purport to serve. The way these aid programs work is that the US buys food products from US farmers, then ships them to places like Kenya on U.S. carriers. Then in Kenya aid organizations like CARE receive the food products and then sell them in the local economy to earn their aid dollars. This system is racked with inefficiencies which CARE has acknowledges in the past, but now they've decided that these programs also hinder agricultural development in poor countries. Soybean oil, for example, is one of the products that the feds buy and ship. Aid organisations sell the oil to Kenyan processing plants at a lower price than sunflower farmers can sell their raw sunflower oil. It's complicated, but I am pleased that CARE is taking this courageous step. They are using aid money to help small farmers improve farming methods and retailing strategies. CARE is affiliated with Cross Cultural Solutions, or rather it's the other way around. At any rate, I am glad to be affiliated with them and look forward to learning more about their work in Tanzania.

Oh, oh, the computer tells me I have 30 seconds left. Sorry for the typos...

Farewell Turkey

Well, today is our last full day in Turkey. We are going to miss the beauty of Istanbul, the wonderful food and people, but not the HEAT! It's boiling now during the day with too few breezes, happily however, evening always carry a cool breeze around so there is always relief in sight. Our friends Aziz and Jamila from Monterey arrived three days ago and we have been having a jollly time with them. Our hotels are within walking distance of each other which is makes visiting and touring very nice. Last night we went to a show at a dinner club, with belly dancers, folk dancers, and sword throwers. Ali, ever the good sport, participated in a number of on stage activities, the most hilarious of which is when he concented to an act in which several men hurled knives at a board balanced on his stomach. He achieved celebrity status at the club after this last feat.

I got my assignment in Tanzania! I will be working in a small rural high school with a staff of six and around 60 students. I will be assisting in the classroom and conducting English classes. It's a relief that my assignment is in a high school, because although I love children, I have very little experience teaching them. My school is simpley called St. Teresa's School. Some of the students are AIDS orphans and the rest are just poor kids. They say there is a CD player at the school, so when I get to Amsterdam I'll buy some cd for them. I was thinking of that progressive rapper, Kanye West (I think that's his name) and Aziz and Jamila say that Michael Jackson is popular in Morocco, so maybe I'll get one his cds. Ali suggested Stevie Wonder. Any other suggtestions out there?

Ali will be taking the lap top to Morocco, so I don't think I will be able to post photos anymore until I get to Morocco myself in November, but I will be able to post messages regularly so stay tuned. I probably wont' be making any more posts until I get to Tanzania on August 25, so don't bother checking in until then.

Gulegule for now.

Education in Turkey

For you educators out there: according to the Turkish Daily News, only 50% of children finish high school here in Turkey. After elementary school (through age 13/14) children can attend a three-year academic high school or a four-year vocational high school. The entrance exams for the academic high schools are quite stringent so middle and upper middle income families send their children to test prep courses for up to a year before the exams. Only 10% of youth who take the university exams after high school pass and enter universities. There are also Koranic high schools; these have been classified as vocational schools meaning that there is no academic preparation for university. Some say that this may change now that the Islamist dominant party is in power.

Recently the government announced a new program to increase public school enrolments. Families will receive 12-20 Turkish Lira for each child that attends school. I’m not sure if that includes high school-aged children, but it sounds like a good step forward.

There are more universities here in Turkey now, which has helped stem the “brain drain” problem that most developing countries experience.

Another item of interest from the Turkish Daily News: In 2001, 68% of Turks had positive opinions about the United States; today that figure has dropped to 9%. That sentiment is directed at the U.S. government. We have felt nothing but gracious hospitality and friendliness here.

Invigorated in Instabul

The cool temperatures here in Istanbul have re-invigorated us after our long spell in the oven zones of Turkey. We’ll be here until August 13th when Ali and I take off on separate adventures for a while. We are staying in the old quarters near the Blue Mosque (named for the blue tiles that adorn the inside of the mosque) and the Grand Bazaar. We are mostly walking around, enjoying the wonderful cuisine, and going to museums. Tomorrow we go to the European district, which is said to be very trendy, and we still have our boat trip on the Bosphorus and a jaunt to one of the islands in the Sea of Marmara to do.

News items from the paper: A group of former prostitutes have formed a new political party here for outcasts. They will run for parliamentary seats in the next election. Sounds like a party I might join if we had one in the states.

Turkey, I have learned, is fast becoming a mecca for “medical tourism.” Apparently their medical facilities and technology are top rate and Europeans come here in droves for everything from heart, eye, dental and cosmetic surgery to cancer treatments. The prices are significantly lower than in Europe and there are virtually no waiting lists. Also, European HMOs will often foot the bill. It looks like the middle income countries are tacking up the slack of our western health systems. I see a sequel to Sicko here.

Speaking of illness, Ali has come down with his second bout of “tourismo.” This case isn’t has severe as the one he got In Capadocia, but he’s pretty miserable. We think it was the beef. I, happily, haven’t had one problem of that nature. I hope I hold out for the last four days in Turkey.