The Shock of Culture Shock

31 May, 2004

Hi Friends and Family,

This is the unusual situation in which one of these letters comes from Rob instead of Barb.  Also, I need to start this communication with a disclaimer.  We are not unhappy with our life. Things happen in developing country environments that require patience and maturity to deal with, but our life here overall is not too bad.  We have been here five months, and all in all, things have gone pretty well.  We have our household established.  The kids, Barb and I have made some friends who we spend time with on a social basis.  We are pretty comfortable, and my work is going reasonably well. 

On the other hand, things can get to you, and at times, the annoyances don’t need to be that substantial to hit you the wrong way. It is mostly an accumulation of minor issues that creates a sense of frustration.  This has been the case for the past week or so, and at times it caused one to think “So, if everything is so great, why do I feel so bad?”

The answer is culture shock.  Those who have lived overseas, even in more developed and comfortable places than Tanzania, know what this is. It is a predictable and documented set of phases that one experiences when living outside of his or her native culture.  While we have experienced it before, and we know it is cyclical, there is an emotional impact that is significant.  The books on culture shock will say that first there is a honeymoon period in which everything is cool and exciting. That is followed by a time(usually at between 4 and 6 months of living in the new place) that is frustrating and exasperating as you try to absorb the fact that you are living in a place where people and things don’t function as you have grown to expect them to.  (We have now been here five months) That is where we find ourselves, and the degree of frustration may vary among us, there is a bit of stress about the situations that Barb has described concerning power, water and the Monster vehicle. 

To start with, there always has been a low level ambient stress associated with the fact that the project that I am here to operate is complex and requires a lot of interventions which are costly and a challenge to manage. Unfortunately, the budget that we were able to obtain does not allow for such complex and costly activities. Consequently, since October, I have been struggling with how to shoehorn this massive project (which is the kind of program I want to run) into a sardine can budget.  That continues to be a daily issue at work.  We know we could do a lot of good development work here, but we don’t have sufficient resources. Plus, all of our clients, prospective clients and stakeholders have the perception that we do have a lot of resources, so we constantly being asked to do and support things that we cannot.  (More on the donor dependence that runs deep here at a later time.)

On the other hand, I am enjoying the challenges of starting up a new activity, and living in a weird and interesting place, even if it is only for a year. We have gone on a few safaris, which are truly a deep experience that is almost spiritual in nature.  We have sailed on and snorkeled in the Indian Ocean, and the kids have gotten a different perspective on many things as they have adjusted to life here.  They operate in a truly multicultural environment, and are appreciative of many of the advantages of life that are often taken for granted in the US. So, many of my objectives have been accomplished in moving here, and in those respects, it will  be successful even if we don’t stay here for the two year term we had anticipated.

On the other hand, the effect of the culture shock is bad enough to make one cranky.  Add to that the fact that we have had:

a)      car battery/electrical problems,

b)      plumbing and water pump problems

c)      failure of our generator when we need it to compensate for the power interruption from the electrical utility (I am writing this during a power outage—thank goodness for the battery in the computer)

d)      Barb’s encounter with the local law enforcement.

(please see Barb’s last email for a good description of all these things).  Therefore, at the moment, my enthusiasm for the adventure of life in this place has diminished a little. 

Yesterday, for the first time, I really envisioned going to the airport and getting on a plane to go where things are “normal.”  Our usual routing back to the US would be through Amsterdam, and I can imagine how different it would feel to sit in that airport having a cup of coffee and a sandwich, and have things work much more predictably.  It seems like a dream.

Yet, from our experience in repatriating from our last overseas tour, I know something ironic. Things break down in the US and in Europe.  Service people can be unreliable and surly.  Sometimes the thing that you really want is not available.  And that can be even more maddening after you have lived in a place where some things really are not available, and the circumstances of peoples’ lives give them some justification for being less than perky and service oriented.  When dealing with a poor excuse of a service friendly person that I am dealing with in the US, I am thinking, “this is the US, you don’t have an excuse for this inefficiency or that attitude!!”

Deep down, I know that we can adjust to the minor discomforts of life in a developing country environment.  The next phase of culture shock involves more of an assimilation or acceptance of the circumstances in the new country.  I am looking forward to the time that this phase kicks in.  There are inconveniences, but there are inconveniences everywhere.  It isn’t what happens to you, but how you respond to what happens to you.

So, we will pull out of the culture shock funk, and begin to appreciate this experience soon.  There are good reasons why we chose to come here, and they remain valid. We have friends and family coming over the next few months, and we’re really looking forward to having the chance to reconnect with them and share in some wonderful safari experiences.  (they might even bring a few things that remind us of home.)

Living in DC had its own set of things that were not completely satisfying, and if and when we go back, they will still be there. But for now, let us stew about the power outages, the car repairs that we need to get done, and the fundis that never come when they have promised. We can allow ourselves to be cranky when people don’t tell us the things that we think they should or can’t seem to grasp that we choose to do things in our own way. 

It’s all part of the experience, and we are in it and enjoying it.  I better sign off because the battery of my computer is getting low, and you know the generator battery is dead…

Bye,

Rob

PS:  Just to let you know that these things are true, I thought I would attach my horoscope of yesterday:

Frustration could be the keyword for today. If you've made plans to get together with a close friend or lover, dear Libra, don't count on it happening. Unexpected events might necessitate a postponement. Problems with schedule coordination could have you playing telephone tag. This is also not a good day to work on creative or artistic projects, as the results you want could prove elusive. Best advice: Spend the day reading!

Batteries, plumbing, electricity, water and fundis

27 May, 2004

 

Dear Friends and Family,

 

Today we're having a typical bad day in Dar es Salaam.  It is the kind of day that only can occur in a place like this, and it takes days, maybe even weeks of build up to create. 

 

Let's start with the car.  You may remember that we are driving a Monster Truck here, more affectionately now called "The Monster".  Well, I drive The Monster every day, since I do the kid pick-up and the family shopping.  It has a super-duper alarm which I religiously set every time I leave the car anywhere - that is except for our own garage.  Part of the super, or maybe duper, of this alarm is a touch sensitive warning.  You touch the car, it makes a noise.  The reason that I don't set the alarm in our garage is because once I set it and at 8 in the morning on a Saturday, the gardener decided to wash the car INSIDE the garage!  We were sleeping in, but he set the alarm off at least 8 times!  In order to disarm the alarm, you have to push the button on the remote, AND open the driver's side door.  I was in my nightie so I didn't really want to go out and open the door.  The gardener was undeterred from the washing, and continued, so I eventually had to get dressed and go out and disarm the alarm.  Rob was traveling, so it was up to me.  I won't go into why the gardener didn't just stop washing after the 2nd or 3rd time the alarm went off - we just don't go there.  Anyway, in order to prevent this from happening, I don't set the alarm in the garage.  There is a lock on the gearshift, AND a guard all night, AND a gate to have to go through to steal the car.  I think it's pretty safe, even without the alarm.  Rob wants me to set the alarm.

 

The other night, I didn't set the alarm.  I also didn't close the door all the way, and the interior light was on.  The battery died.  If I had set the alarm, I would have known that a door was ajar because the alarm wouldn't have turned on. 

 

There are 2 batteries in The Monster.  It needs them both to start.  We had to jump start the car, and then keep it running to charge them up.  Rob checked them, he thought they needed a little water, so he put some in. 

 

The batteries wouldn't keep a charge.  We went to a garage to put a slow charge on the batteries.  Their power was out and would be out for hours, and their generator wouldn't work, so no charges on that day.  We did a little investigative work though, and it seemed that there was maybe a little short somewhere between the batteries.  We could jump the car from one, but not the other.  Hmm.

 

On Monday, the driver at Rob's office had to come and drain the battery acid and refill them with new acid.  I won't tell you where the drained out acid went, but there's a nice white circle on the driveway - near where the kids play and the dog lies. 

 

Now, if the car sits for too long, it doesn't really want to start right up, it has a little drag on the battery and then finally starts.  It goes fine for the rest of the day, as long as it doesn't sit too long.   The driver thinks there's still a little short somewhere, and doesn't think it needs a charge, so Rob disconnected one of the terminals when we parked the Monster last night, and it started better today.  We also have to turn off the radio and A/C when we start so the batteries don't have to work so hard.

 

Today I was having a little adventure with my friends.  We were meeting one lady downtown.  I never drive downtown, the Monster is too big and the streets are too small and full of people.  I drove into downtown today.  I made an illegal turn (oops!) and then got in trouble with the police.  A foot patrol policeman in a brown uniform pulled me over and started fussing at me for making that illegal turn.  He said that I would have to pay a fine, get out of the car and go look at the sign that clearly said I couldn't make that turn, and promise not to do it again.  I wasn't born yesterday, so I said I'd be happy to take the ticket on paper to the police station and pay the fine, and no, I would never make that turn again.  He said there was a problem, you see there are so many people at the police station that it would take a long time - maybe I should just pay him.  I told him that I didn't care how long it took, I'd do it the correct way if he'd just give me a paper telling me where to go and how much to pay.  Here's where it got fun - He got mad!  He said that I was not trusting him! (Shame on me!) I can't compare Tanzania to my own country, I had to trust him.  I asked how much the fine was - 20,000 Shillings (around $20).  I said, no way, that was what the fine would be in the US.  I thought maybe 5,000 Shillings was more like it, but I wanted a paper ticket!  Then I called my friend who we were meeting and she came and helped.  She smiled sweetly and asked what I had done wrong, she apologized and said I'd never do it again and asked where the police wanted me to go to pay.  He said that there was a problem because I didn't trust him, so he'd have to come with us to the station.  She said fine, we'll meet him there, but we never put anyone into our cars with us - that was the rule.  He got mad at her then, and she said that she'd go into her office and get her attorney.  He said why do you need an attorney, she said to speak better Swahili, he got real mad then because she didn't think he spoke English well enough.  You can see how this was going.  Then, she did the best thing of all, she asked him why a foot patrol policeman was making traffic stops.  He decided at this point that if I would get out of the car and come over and see the sign and promise never to make that turn again, he'd let me go without a fine.  So I did, and we were off.  Turns out, traffic policemen wear white and policemen in brown don't have jurisdiction over traffic violations.  I was the intended victim of a shakedown.  I'd heard about shakedowns, that's why I wanted a paper ticket.  That's also why I thought it was only worth 5000 Shillings - that was about all I would pay for a shakedown, if I had to pay at all. 

 

This isn't the end of the car troubles, though.  My lady friends and I then left the center of town and did our shop - fun shopping, not food shopping.  When we were done, we decided to go try out an antique dealer one of my friends had heard of back in the center, where we may be able to find real, old, Zanzibar Trunks!  Even after that bad start in the center, the lure of an old Zanzibar Trunk was too much for me, and we decided to go back and check it out.  Besides, I had to go back to the scene of the crime and drop my friend off again.  I parked the Monster in a nice messy puddle where nobody else wanted to park and we went in to the store.  When I came back, the side mirrors were gone!  Rob had turned down the touch sensitive alarm to prevent the issue mentioned above with the gardener and the washing, and the car sat there silently and let somebody yank those mirrors right off without so much as a squeak.  My friend spoke to her husband, and he said that it was our fault for parking downtown and NOT paying someone hanging around to watch the car.  If I had paid someone, I'd still have my mirrors.  That is apparently what "Paid Parking" means here.

 

The car isn't the only problem, however.  Yesterday right at 5 PM, we had a power outage.  You know, that's when you start the cooking for dinner.  The power was off for 4 hours.  We got to go out for dinner!  We HAD to go out to eat dinner, because the generator battery is also dead.  This is starting to be a theme.  I had just finished putting the meat delivery into the freezer.  We get our meat and milk delivered to our house.  That way it is better quality, and we can freeze what we don't want to use immediately.  I had just put $60 worth of meat into the freezer, and the power went out for 4 hours!  Great!

 

But the real problem is the Water.  We have plumbing problems again!  This time the problem started at least a week ago.  Since January, when the entire plumbing system was replaced, we have added to our daily routine a trip out to the pump house.  We eat dinner, do the dishes, have a swim, push the button.  After calling the Fundi (Swahili for repairman) nearly daily for those weeks in January when we had such troubles, I finally decided that I would learn all about the system so I could fix it myself.  After all, the Fundi would come for some 5 minutes and then we'd have water.  I found out that if I pushed the manual switch to turn on the pump, we could get the tank on the roof filled and we'd never run out of water.  We have been pushing the manual start on the pump daily ever since - and have had no problems - well, none that are worth mentioning.  Last week, the manual start button on the pump stopped working.  We had to call the landlord, who brought a fundi.  This time the problem was the switch that floats in the underground tank.  The purpose of this switch is to prevent the pump from burning out trying to pump from an empty tank.  This switch is electric - we didn't need a plumber, we needed an electrician.  Who'd a thought!  Anyway, the garden pump also has one of these switches, and it was working.  I told the fundi to put the garden switch on the house pump and then I didn't care if it took a few days to get a new switch.  The most interesting thing about these switches is that the electrical line dangles in the underground tank and the splice is about 4 feet under the water!  Seems like a bad idea to me, and I'm not surprised the switch shorted out.  The electrician replaced the switch on the pump, said something about the problem being that no electricity was getting to the switch, not that the switch was bad.  Then why he replaced it, I have no idea.  I was told that the problem was fixed.  The next day, everything worked fine, we actually thought that the system was working as planned, and that the daily trips to the pump house were no longer necessary.  The next day, we had no water for our morning showers!  We also couldn't get the pump to start.  Back to square one.  The landlord and fundi came again.  This time, they decided to take the pump to the pump store to get it checked out.  There is a 6 month warrantee on this pump, which was the second one that was installed in the system in January. 

 

Yesterday, the landlord called Rob, the pump needs a part that has to be sent from Nairobi.  It might come next week.  In the mean time, we have a garden hose running up to the tank on the roof.  When we think we may be running out of water, we turn it on for a 1/2 hour or so.  Not as clean as the old system, but workable.

 

Last night, after we filled up the tank, after the power outage, after we went to bed, we sprang a leak.  This time in a little flexible hose right by the kitchen door - outside the kitchen, thank goodness.  The night time guard found it.  He did what everyone here does, he found a piece of rubber strap and tied it around the hose.  Rubber straps are the Duct Tape of the Tanzanians.  If an American had found the leak, he'd have gone for duct tape first.  The Guard found the leak because the 1000 liters of water in the tank on the roof was leaking out all over the sidewalk.  Rob found out this morning when he went to take his shower.  There was no water!

 

I've given up waiting for   plumbing fundis.  I had an adventure planned for today, and plumbing was not going to stop me.  Rob asked a colleague at work to call a fundi he had used in the office, and I assumed that when I came home it would be fixed.  It wasn't.  I went to the corner shop that has all the hardware and plumbing you need, Home Depot Tanzanian style, and bought a new flexible hose and some pipe tape.  I tried with the assistance (I wouldn't say help) of the gardener, and finally gave up.  One feature of this particular job that made it a real treat was that the valve that is supposed to cut the water flow to the joint I was working with didn't actually stop the water flow.  And it was hot water.  This job was otherwise a no brainer - take out the old hose, put in the new.  It didn't fit.  When Rob came home, he made an attempt, and with a few spare parts we found in the storage container, he was able to fix the leak.  Took him about 15 minutes - but he didn't have the assistance of the gardener, he got to work alone.  It cost me 2500 shillings.  It would have cost me 30 or 40,000 if I'd had a fundi come, plus the frustration of having to wait all day for him to show up.  Hot water in the kitchen sink - what a luxury.  In the mean time, we still have the hose to the roof, but you hardly notice it.  It looks just like the water hookups at the KOA campgrounds and the trailer parks in Virginia.  Only thing missing is the Kudzu!

 

29 May, 2004

 

Oops, I never quite finished and sent the above.  We had an all day power outage on Friday, and still no generator.  When Rob's office called about the power, the electric company told them that they had notified us via the morning newspapers that the power would be out all day, and Saturday too.  We got the generator battery charged and by 4:00, we had power.  So did everyone else at 5:00.  Today, we had no outage at all, even though we were ready - generator charged, full of diesel, no outage!  Rob's office, however, ran out of power.  Remember we have to buy electricity ahead, and they didn't.  The hub for my satellite is at Rob's office.  If they have no power, I have no internet. 

 

All's well that ends well, however.  Rob's staff had to come in today to do some last minute work for "Milk Week" (you have to ask Rob), and they also bought some electricity.  Now, before I encounter any further obstacles, I'll send this.  I hope your adventures are less frustrating and costly than ours, and that you never experience running out of water - especially after you've soaped up at 5:30 AM.

 

We'd love to hear about your daily struggles, drop us a line.

 

Barb

 

Nooter family web sites

Dear Friends and Family,

 

I finally have internet access at home!  It took 4 months, but it was worth the wait.  Most of the internet providers here are really bad, but Rob managed to find the cream of the crop and has both the office and our house hooked up to the rest of the world via satellite.  I've been online for a full week, and I have to say, my life feels so much more organized now that I can do my banking, e-mailing, and even the Washington Post crossword puzzle from the comfort of my house.  I've been scheduling safaris for June and August, and setting up two websites (with the help of Mark Heringer) so that we can post our letters home and PICTURES!!!

These sites are in their infancy, so don't expect much yet, but if you'd like to read all my past "Friends & Family" e-mails, you can do so at http://nooter.blogspot.com/.   I've posted a few pictures to the other site, and hope to get Rob working on this later today.  You can see them at http://nooter.textamerica.com/.  I'm going to try to put more photos on the site, and if you have any suggestions of something or someone you'd like to see, please let me know and we'll get the digital out and fire away.

 

On the flip side, just for comic relief, I guess - we already got a virus (which I have cleaned up).  Wouldn't you know Austin would get on the internet to find some codes he needs to play some of the games on the PS2, and he'd get a virus, Trojan, worm, whatever.  It changed the startup page that the Internet Explorer used when going onto the internet.  The page displayed a supposed "Letter from your Internet Provider Consultant" and recommended that you download a program to block pop up ads - which it then proceeded to display by the zillions - most of them inappropriate.  Great, there's my 8 year old looking at things he shouldn't see the very first time he goes on the net!   I cleaned it up and reset the startup page, but what a pain.  Welcome to the internet!

 

Otherwise, we're doing fine.  We have some friends from Church coming to visit us in June, right when school ends, so we're scheduling a safari!  The kids are very excited to see their "old" friends, and we're going to a new Park that has both bush and ocean.  You can do driving game tours, walking game tours, boat game tours, hang on the beach, go snorkeling, you name it.  All from this one park.  This is going to be great!  And it will be even better because we can share the experience with friends. 

 

Also, both of Rob's brothers and their families are coming in August.  We're planning a big safari then, too, and hope to have a repeat performance of the safari we took in April, plus more!  I'm having a ball working on this with them - and loving the ability to have nearly daily e-mail conversations with them for the first time in 4 months.  

 

So, that's about it.  Please drop me a line, we'd love to hear from you.  I promise that I'll respond much more reliably than in the past 4 months.  Also, suggestions of things you'd like to see on the picture site will be a great help.  Hope everyone is well and saving up for visits to Tanzania!

 

Barb  

 

 

 

HELP!!!

28 April 2004

 

My sincerest apologies to everyone waiting to hear from us in Africa.  We have been very busy, and we still do not have internet hookup at home.  First, we are all fine.  School is going well for the kids and Rob is actually starting to be too busy at work.  I’m also able to fill my days, although sometimes it’s hard to determine whether I’ve done anything at all.

 

We had the perfect safari – well, perfect except for the camping part.  The kids had 10 days off from school over Easter and we decided we should go on a safari.  We thought we’d stay near Dar and do some of the central Tanzanian parks, but we talked to a guy that said we shouldn’t miss the “Great Migration” in the Serengeti which is in full swing, and that the rain has made all the animals go south in the central parks which are all too muddy for driving.  Adding this to the fact that we really needed to “scout out” the northern parks for our summertime visitors (it sounded convincing when we thought it up), we decided to go to Lake Manyara, the Serengeti, and the Ngorongoro Crater.  I can die now, I’ve seen all I ever dreamed of seeing in Africa.  We took 2 hours of video and a whole digital camera card full of photos.  We saw the “Big Five” (Lion, Leopard, Elephant, Rhino, and Buffalo) two days in a row.  These were the most frequent targets of the Great Hunters.  I’m still amazed that anyone could see these magnificent beasts in the wild and think of pointing a gun at them and killing them.  I much prefer the camera.  We saw much more than just the Big 5; Cheetahs, Wildebeasts (1.6 million of them), Zebras, Giraffes, Hartebeasts, Topi, Waterbucks, Hyenas, Jackals, etc.  When you see these places and animals on National Geographic, you are actually seeing what we saw.  We even saw Dung Beetles – very exciting!  We started identifying birds as the varieties and quantities are so great.  We identified over 75 different birds within about 72 hours.  Colors and sizes and feathers you’d never believe.  Even the kids started looking for them and racing to try to identify new ones.  Rob is working on getting a web site worked up so he can post some of our photos (thanks to Mark Heringer!) so I’ll start bugging him soon to get them up and we’ll let you know where to go on the internet.

 

The camping part was the only bad part of the trip (not really bad, but not my favorite).  As luck would have it, it only rained when we were sleeping in tents.  The campsites also have the old hole in the ground with 2 footprints facilities, and if there was water, which there wasn’t, the showers are cold.  Now, I realize that I am a bit of a princess, but this stuff is really  - what? Rustic?  The third night of the safari was the first night we slept in a lodge and we all took long, hot, wonderful showers.  Thank goodness the lodges don’t add that much to the cost of the trip as a whole, as I don’t think we’ll do the camping part again.  When you camp, you also have to take along a cook and all the food you’ll need, so although the food was fine, we’ll skip it next time and save the space in the car.  The other thing that was bad, but was my bad, was that I packed for the kids and me and took what one would normally take on a vacation lasting a week.  Long pants, shorts, shirts, socks, undies, sneakers, flipflops, books, towels, games, etc.  You get the picture.  Anyway, when you are on safari, you don’t need to look good, or smell good, and you certainly don’t need entertainment. There is also a limited amount of space in the vehicle.   The more stuff you have, the more stuff you have to sit with on your lap.  

 

I could go into great detail about the safari, but I think I’ll save it and torture everyone with the video when we get back.  I’ll also make a blanket invitation to everyone that gets this e-mail to start saving and come on safari with us.  I’m so glad that we’ve gotten the opportunity to do this for our kids, and for us.  Fantastic!  The best money we’ve ever spent.

 

One thing that was particularly great for us was that on the last day, after we’d left the guide and were driving back to the hotel, Mount Kilimanjaro came out from behind its perpetual cloud cover and shone its snowy cap off long enough for us to buy more batteries for the camera and get a good family portrait.  They say Kilimanjaro is a “shy” mountain, it hides behind clouds most of the time.  The best time to catch a glimpse of the snow capped peak is in December or January (we saw it from the plane!).  It is very rare for the peak to be uncovered in April.  What luck – perfect!

 

Other than safari, life goes on.  Rob and I are taking Swahili lessons, as are Wes and Austin in school.  (Madie stuck with French since that’s what’s available at home.)  The dog is having obedience training (we’re hoping to boost his confidence).  We’ve been making friends and have been fairly active.  We did finally get our shipment on the Tuesday before we left on safari, so I quickly put things away for the house-sitter. We’ve been sorting through and trying to find things ever since.  I was so happy to see our towels, and the kitchen stuff was great too.  The kids appreciated the sports equipment and books, and of course the boys are thrilled with the PS2 games.

 

On the day the shipment came, I had a number of things going on so Letitia, the cleaning lady, tried to put things away for me in the kitchen.  She kept asking me what things are for.  Open up your junk drawer in your kitchen.  Take a look at all the things you have that have a single purpose and no other use.  I have lots:  corn plates, corn holders, an egg slicer, a pumpkin carver, ice cream bowls, a tomato knife, a tomato slicer, a cheese slicer, a grapefruit knife ... I could go on.  Letitia had a knack for picking out the single purpose items and asking what they were for.  I was embarrassed.  After a while, I just told her to put the stuff in the cupboards and I’d sort them out later.  I’m glad I decided to unpack the non-kitchen items myself.

 

One aspect of life here that we’ve been talking about and thinking about a lot is the necessity for “Help” here.   At present, we have two gardeners (not both here on the same days), a cleaning lady 3 days per week, a night guard, and a second night guard that only comes 1 night per week to give the other one the night off.  This drives me crazy.  I’m never alone at home.  Even if the cleaning lady isn’t here, there’s someone in the yard.   Furthermore, one of the gardeners comes running whenever I go outside – even if I’m just going to put the trash in the trash can.  I have to nearly fight him for the right to throw away what I scoop out of the cat box, and he races me to what the dog deposits in the yard.  They say “Good Morning Madam” through the kitchen window – 7 days a week.  If I park the car in the garage and put the alarm on, they’ll wash it and set off the alarm.  If I don’t put the alarm on, they wash the inside of the car so the seat is wet.  I’ve instructed the cleaning lady to NOT make Madeline’s bed (or the boys’), but she insists.  I think the kids should take care of their own rooms – both for the sake of  privacy and for the responsibility.  As you can see, “Help” is driving me crazy. 

 

Since we’ve been talking about this so much lately, I’ve been hearing lots of reasons and excuses for why I should just get over it.  Rob thinks that it is part of our responsibility as foreigners to provide employment.  He wants me to give the cleaning lady more jobs – like making juice from the fresh fruit.  I don’t even let her do the laundry.  I’m not complaining about having to do laundry, it’s a fact of life, you have laundry and someone has to do it.  In our family that’s me.  One friend says that I should consider this my vacation from household responsibilities and appreciate it while I have it, and it’s insulting to the employee if I don’t let them do what some other foreigner has trained them to do.  Another says if I don’t like the lady I have, for whatever reason, just fire her because there are plenty more looking for work.  The South Africans generally are used to having household help and can’t understand how we can ever live without it.  Some people think that we should be saving the leftovers from dinner and handing them out to the guards.  How degrading.

 

Furthermore, whenever you ask a question of the “Help” or a salesperson in the shops, the answer is usually what they think you want to hear, not necessarily the truth.  Here’s a typical conversation between me and one of the gardeners as he’s preparing to put chlorine in the pool.  “Did you test the pool?” “Yes, Madam” “Was there still too much chlorine? Yesterday there was too much, it was hurting the kids’ eyes.”  “Yes, Madam.”   Rob thinks this is cultural.  I wonder if they do this with other Tanzanians.  My friend Lisa says they do this because they want to please me and keep their job and get a good recommendation for their next job.  I’d be more pleased with them if they told me the real truth.  I went to the store and bought some “fresh” milk.  I have a hard time with milk because it has to be delivered that day for it to really be fresh.  The stock clerk in the store was filling the milk fridge so I asked “Was this delivered today?” “Yes, Madam” so I bought 10 half-liter packets (at about 30 cents each).  I got home and had to throw away 9 of the 10 as they were spoiled.  Rob says that I have to stop asking yes or no questions, then I’ll get closer to the real truth.

 

Here’s another example.  Madeline saw a dress in one of the outdoor markets that she thought would look nice on me – it was my colors, looked cool, etc.  I asked the woman if she had made the dress “Yes, Madam”  I asked what size it was “Your size Madam” I looked all over it for a label – nothing.  We negotiated a price and I bought it.  When we got home, I went to try it on and there, way down the bottom of the side seam, was a label:  Marks & Spencer, size 20.  Neither hand made nor my size.  I don’t know how to feel, like an idiot or proud of myself for not being as cynical as my friend Merle, who says everyone here just lies all the time and you just have to start any conversation with that in mind. 

 

I realize this is a sensitive topic.  By talking about “They” or “them” I automatically become the kind of person I don’t like.  Some of the “Thems” I don’t like are the ex-pats.  I hate hearing a group of ex-pats talking about Tanzanians.  They make me understand how it is possible for a kid at Madeline’s school to write an article about how she felt when a taxi driver got out of his car and said “Muzungus are Pork!” , meaning “Foreigners are Pigs.” She wrote about how bad she felt, as just because she was white didn’t mean she was a Muzungu.  She has lived all of her life on the continent and feels that she is an African, not a foreigner.  In fact, there is a large population of “Asian” Africans, who are the nth generation born in Tanzania of immigrants from India and Pakistan from before the German or British colonial period.  Many of the “Asian” Africans are the shopowners.  They are also very pleasant, usually speak very good English, etc.  One day I was buying vegetables from the man at the corner and he said Hello to me, Ohio gazaimus (that’s my inventive spelling) to the Japanese lady, etc.  We had our usual chat about veg and fruit and all the while he was listening to a very loud radio broadcast in ENGLISH saying things about 3500 children being murdered in America every day and that the Americans are trying to control the world by reducing the population  through women’s rights and birth control, etc.  What??  Amazing!  The combinations of cultures, races, religions here is amazing, but the separateness of each group is also amazing.  The “Asian” Africans don’t mix with the other Africans, although they do employ them.  According to Rob, he often hears black Africans speak of “those Asian people...” followed by your choice of racial generalization.  The foreigners mix with both, but still employ only the non-Asian Africans in their homes.  Wealthy (and even middle to lower middle class) Africans of all races employ people in their homes, another reason nobody can understand why I don’t want help.

 

I feel differently here than I did in Russia and Lithuania.  I am embarrassed by the things I have, I’m embarrassed by how my friends talk about the Africans in their employ, I’m embarrassed that I don’t like to have Help, I’m embarrassed that I have to fight my gardener to throw away my trash.  I remember a conversation I had with Alexander in Moscow (he was my driver).  At the time I had 2 kids and was pregnant with my third, we had Marty, a huge dog, and I was missing my cat Buddy, who had recently died, and talking about finding another one, preferably a Siamese.  I hated my flat far from the center and was working on moving into another one near the Kremlin, we were talking about dachas and I said I would love to have one we could go to on the weekends, as other expats we knew did.  Alexander laughed at me and said something about how really American I was, I wanted everything!  Wow, but Alexander had a flat and a car and a dacha and 2 kids, somehow it didn’t seem so striking the differences between us.   Alexander’s life was how it was because of the Soviet system, and he and I could have a normal relationship based on a mutual need.  We were friends and he happened to be my driver.   We didn’t have a real social relationship, but we were more than just an employer and an employee.  I needed him because of the language difficulties and because I had small kids and no car and traffic was so crazy.  He needed me because the country had just fallen apart and he couldn’t get a job as a journalist and he had to feed his family.  He spoke 7 languages, he’d done 2 tours in Afganistan.  I remember hearing him talk to other drivers about me, he was proud that I spent my time going to museums and learning about Russian Culture and History rather than just having tea like a lot of the other ladies. He is now working as a journalist. 

 

I guess the bottom line is that here I’m treated like a princess and I’m expected to behave like one.  I’m supposed to hand off the dirtiest jobs to someone else because they are simply beneath my dignity.  Well, other than the shower and camping thing, I’m not a princess.  Even other American expats expect me to act like a princess.  Regarding Help, I’m told “you’ll get used to it” or “take advantage of it while you can” or “stop messing it up for the rest of us.”   What happens when those princesses go home?  I can’t imagine how they will be able to afford the amount of Help they have here, and who is going to do the jobs they’ve decided are beneath them?  For me, I hope I never get used to it, I plan to tell Letitia that I only want her 2 times per week (I’ll pay her the same) and I don’t care if I mess it up for the rest of the expats.   Rob says we need the security of the guards and the gardeners, so we’ll keep them.  Hopefully as we get better at Swahili, we’ll be able to explain better what we expect of the gardeners, like pool cleaning and  gate opening, not princess tending.

 

So there it is.  I’m often asked what it’s like to live here.  For me, it’s both really great – the safaris, the art and culture, the pool, what my kids are learning about the world! – but also frustrating.  I used to joke when we were in Moscow that “we aren’t in Kansas anymore!” like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.  I’m really glad it’s not like this in Kansas.

 

I hope you are all well.  With any luck, we’ll have some form of internet hookup at home next week and I’ll be a lot more regular with e-mail.  All our best to everyone.

 

Barb

6th letter from Tanzania

11 March 2004

 

 

Dear Friends and Family,

 

Sorry I haven’t written in a long time, I hadn’t felt like there was much to write about.  However, as I sit here thinking about how I’ll organize this letter I seem to have a lot that I’ve been thinking about lately.  Who knows what will result.

 

This past weekend we took a trip to Zanzibar.  We can go over by ferry and there were lots of options for places to stay.  Zanzibar is actually a number of islands off the coast of Tanzania.  The island most well known as Zanzibar is about a 2 hour ferry ride.  There is an old city called Stone Town, and I got the scoop on all the places to go and things to do.  A lot of people go and stay in Stone Town and take spice tours and shop for antiques.  That sounded great to me.  Rob called a travel agent and she recommended a place on the Northeast Coast of the island, about 50 kilometers from Stone Town, but near the great coral reefs and snorkeling heaven.    We had a choice of two places on that coast, one which was about $35 per bungalow per night, and the other which was all inclusive at about $300 per night.  Since we had the kids with us and we didn’t think that shopping for antiques and wandering around on either spice plantations or in the old city would float their boat – so to speak – we opted for a stay on the Northeast Coast, where we thought we could swim and snorkel and generally relax.  That got us down to the choice between the fairly rustic bungalows and the pricy, but all inclusive, resort option.  Well, Rob just got a bonus, so we went all inclusive. 

 

When we arrived, they weren’t really expecting us, and didn’t have rooms ready for us, so they sent us in to have lunch and told us to come back later and they’d see what they could do.  The food was laid out in a big buffet in an open air dining room with a big thatched roof.  There were Zanzibar beds all around and the usual African decorations.  The food, however, was all Italian.  Turns out the place is on the Italian Travel Circuit, and if you aren’t African, well you must be Italian.  (Couldn’t they tell we weren’t Italian?  We have hips!)  We thought we had gone to Italy by the look of the food.  Since you generally can’t have a bad vacation in Italy, foods great, weathers great, wines great, etc.  we were OK with this turn of events.   We even thought it was funny to have the cross-cultural experience of having a Masaai say “Ciao” to us.  (More on the Masaai later)  But I ate something at lunch that didn’t like me, and I was sick for the rest of the trip!

 

Rob thinks I’m homesick.  As we drove from the hotel back to Stone Town to take the ferry back to Dar, we were going through all the little villages and I was thinking about the lives of the people here.   Just to give you some background, in the two weeks leading up to this trip we had a couple of things happen that pointed out some of the difficulties in the lives of the people here.  Letitia, my housekeeper, comes to me 3 days a week.  I think I’m incredibly spoiled by this, but I still try to have the beds made and the dishes done before she comes so she only has to do the stuff I don’t like to do, like floors and toilets.  I pay her what the lady she used to work for paid her, 5000 T Shillings per day, plus money for the Daladala (bus).  I let her go when she’s done, unlike her previous employer who expected a full day for the $5, including ironing and laundry – which I do myself (not ironing – it’s still on a boat somewhere).  Anyway, Letitia was sick with Malaria, so she didn’t come for about a week and a half.  I was actually enjoying being sort of alone in my house, although I joked about having to work so hard at sweeping up my own pet hair and even had to mop my own kitchen floor once!    (One friend joked and told me she couldn’t speak to me again until I was fully staffed up – I was the wrong sort without staff).   And I wasn’t really alone in my house, there is a gardener or guard here at all times.  I’m finding it difficult sometimes to find that my car is being washed or my things are being moved or someone is right outside the window while I’m watching TV, and he’s usually working while I’m lounging.  During this same time while Letitia was sick, Andrew, one of the gardeners, was visited here at the house by his uncle.  They called to me and the uncle explained that Andrew’s sister was very sick and that Andrew must come away at once.  Of course I let him go, and gave them my phone number in case Andrew wouldn’t be able to come for the next day or two.  That left me completely alone in the house for the first time since we came here.  Well, it turned out later that Andrew’s sister died that day, so they called and told me and then said they’d be coming.  I said I didn’t expect Andrew back, but they came anyway.    By this time Rob was home, and we asked if there was anything we could do, and they said that Andrew wouldn’t be coming the next day, and that they needed money for the funeral.  Imagine having to ask your employer for money so you can bury your sister.  She was young, and had a 3 year old and a 7 year old child.  I asked if she died of Malaria and they said yes, but they are ashamed to say that they have AIDS, which it probably was.

 

The statistics about the lives of the people here are shocking!  Yesterday in the paper was a report that 99 of 1000 pregnancies end in the death of the mother due to some easily handled complication.  Ten Percent!  Monday was International Women’s Day, something we remember from Russia.  The papers had special supplements about the lives of women in this country – they were shocking!  Girls can get married with their parents’ consent at age 12 – that’s how old Madeline is.  The legal age for a girl to marry is 15, and the paper says that 1/3 of all brides is under the age of 18.  Because of the failure of the rains last year, there are whole villages that have no food.  People are boiling leaves for their kids, and some of them are ending up poisoning their kids as a result.  I’ve seen reports of villages being sent 5 kilograms of maize for a week of food assistance for a whole village.  There was an MP (Member of Parliament) who was in the paper complaining about this a few weeks ago.

 

OK, so back to why Rob thinks I’m homesick.  I was thinking about all these things and feeling sick.  We were driving through these little villages with their wattle and mud huts with thatched roofs or little brick houses with fancy carved Zanzibar doors and tin roofs.  Everything is dirty, there are no grass lawns and driveways and sidewalks.  Houses are just plunked down in the red clay and there is usually not a single leaf of vegetation until you get to the fields or the trees.  The floors of these huts are dirt, the walls are dirt, the roofs are thatch.  Chickens scratch around in the dirt, and judging by our house, there are lots of little tropical critters – like lizards and centipedes.   Last time we were in the countryside, I was wondering where they put all their stuff.   The little huts are usually about 10 feet by 8 feet or so, with a door and a couple of window holes.  I saw some women washing clothes and silverware and pots, and I started wondering where they put their stuff when they put it “away”.  They don’t have a kitchen with cabinets and drawers, they cook outside on charcoal fires.  They don’t have sinks with running water, they send their kids with a jug to the village well.  They have clothes they aren’t wearing, but do they have dressers or closets?  Where do they put their stuff?  They don’t even have stuff like we have, but they have to put it somewhere.  We have a whole container of Stuff coming – and none of it is even furniture!   We threw away so much Stuff when we packed up our house this time – I hate having so much stuff, but I like having some stuff.

 

This time I was thinking about what I really wanted to do was get into my nice clean bed in my nice clean and cool house and just sleep.  If you are sick and you live in a little mud hut, do you ever get to lie in a nice clean bed in a nice clean house?  And forget about being cool – it’s just not possible here without air-conditioning.  I was telling this all to Rob, and he said he thought I was homesick.  He also said that the reality is that most of the people of the world live in some form or another like the Tanzanians.   I’m glad that my kids get to come here and go on safari.  I’m glad they get to experience seeing Lions in the wild.  I’m also glad they see the people in the countryside.  The kids look out the windows here, more than in the States.  Every once in a while they comment.  I think this is the important lesson to learn from our adventure.

 

I said at the beginning that I didn’t know where this letter was going to take me.  I’ll get back to the trip to Zanzibar, and the Masaai.  This hotel was so geared for the Italian Couples or Singles that it didn’t even have adjoining rooms to give us.  Not that there were no adjoining rooms available, there were apparently no adjoining rooms.  They gave us 2 rooms in the same Bungalow.  One on the first floor, and the other a flight up.  Our kids are 12, 10, and 8 – how did they expect us to handle that?  The first night, Rob and the boys slept in one room, and Madie and I slept in the other.  I was up all night sick.  Madie is the worst person to share a bed with, she never sleeps with her head on the pillow, she talks in her sleep and she flops around so much she ends up diagonally and even upside down in the bed.  I was getting up every hour or so to be sick.  All I can say is thank goodness the Italians like to have a bidet in addition to the toilet in their resorts. Whatever I ate got me from both ends, so the bidet was a very nice convenience while I was sitting on the pot  – enough said.  Madie heard nothing of my ups and downs, which in the end is probably good. 

 

Rob had inquired about a snorkeling trip for Sunday, and had booked us onto a boat that was leaving at 8 AM, not to return until 1 or 2 PM.  This was going to be the first snorkeling trip for the kids, even though our snorkeling equipment is still with the rest of our Stuff in the container somewhere in some boat.  When we got up in the morning, we were trying to decide what to do.  Austin had also broken out with some creeping crud on his cheeks and lips, so we were trying to decide if Austin and I should stay behind and the other three go on the boat.  We decided to give it a try, if Austin and I wanted to sit on the boat and not get in the water, well at least we’d get a boat ride.  We had to walk all the way to the next resort, about a 10 minute walk on the beach, to get our equipment and wet suits, etc, and then walk all the way back down the beach to our hotel to catch the boat.  There were some scuba divers and a few other just snorkelers on the boat, along with the crew and the scuba dive guides.  We had to motor for about 45 minutes to the Mnemba Atoll, where we were put into the water.  Austin talked about shark cages the whole way, said he’d like to practice snorkeling in our pool before he gets into the shark cage and things like that.  I told him that we’d see when we got to where we were going, but that I’d hold his hand and we could just go slowly.  When we got there, we geared up and got into the water and practiced a little and then went to the reef.  It was like being in a beautifully planned salt water aquarium.  There were more fish there than anywhere else I’ve ever been (OK, I’ve only been off the beach in Hawaii and a couple of times in Key West – but still.....)  Even Austin forgot about sharks.  Once we got used to breathing with the snorkels and holding hands, it was great.  Austin didn’t want to be very far from the boat, which I remember feeling when I went the first time, too.  We saw Indian Lion fish, eels, sea urchins, star fish, parrot fish, all kinds of soft and hard coral, etc.  They had cards on the boat to help you identify what you’d seen.  Rob and Madie and Wes went further away than Austin and I.  Madie was fearless.  Wes was a little more reserved, so the second time we went out he wanted to hang with me and Austin.  There I was, master swimmer and snorkeler that I am, holding hands with both of my boys.  It was great!  Even Austin loved it.  Nobody got sea sick, everybody got in the water, everybody had a great underwater safari.  Then we went back to “Italy” and sat in the pool for the rest of the day.

 

I promised to tell you about the Masaai.  They are the most beautiful young men you will ever see.  They are all over Tanzania, and maybe all of East Africa, but I only know here.  There were a couple of young Masaai who were door men at the Sea Cliff hotel where we were staying before we moved into the house.  They are all around in the shops and on the roadside and in the countryside.  They wear their traditional dress, which is usually a red, but also can be purple, plaid cloth and piles of adornments like necklaces, earrings, armbands, etc.  They are without equal in their beauty, tall and thin and perfectly groomed with the straightest and whitest teeth you can imagine.  They walk slowly and proudly, carrying their “Spear” which is sometimes no more threatening looking than a walking stick.  They often have long hair that is braided in a special “do” with the front and sides shaved, but the back sometimes as long as to their waists.  They are often in groups of 2 or 3, and they are very affectionate with one another.  I love to see them, and they love to be seen.  What I know about them is what I’ve heard from other people here, so it may not all be true.  One woman told me that these young men are on their special year (or years) during which they are separated from the rest  of their families so they can become men.  Part of the ritual is circumcision, which is done anywhere from about age 13 to nearly 20, and they are not allowed to flinch, cry out, or otherwise show that they feel anything in the process.  Some of them have also had a lower front tooth removed, with a similar requirement of stoicism.  Any sign of weakness is a disgrace.  They are supposed to kill a man or a lion before they are eligible to marry – or otherwise prove themselves.  They are incredibly tough – they are supposed to be the most desirable Askaris (Guards) as their reputation for fierceness is usually enough to dissuade any would be thieves.  Although they spend lots of energy on their appearance, it is not ever correct for one to even glance at or comment on another’s appearance.  I think they are wonderful and that it is great that they are sticking to their old ways – if they really are. 

So, imagine this picture of the proud African saying “Ciao”  - we found it to be almost too incongruous.  Next time we go to Zanzibar, we’re going to stay in Africa.

 

I am fully recovered from whatever got me in Zanzibar.  Austin has a sort of yeast infection on his cheeks and lips – sort of like thrush.  It’s from the dampness, a typical tropical affliction, I’m told.  I also had a brush with a tropical affliction, a Nairobi Fly bite.  Here’s a little nice critter that I’d never heard about.  This fellow bites you and then leaves you with an itchy red spot for days.  If you scratch it, you could spread the venom and get a bacterial infection in addition to the allergic reaction.   Guess what happened to me?  My little guy bit me on my ribcage, about halfway between the bottom of my bra and my waist.  I must have scratched it in my sleep, because I woke up with a rash about the size of a silver dollar.  I tried all the usual medicines, ranging from benadryl to bacitracin, and finally gave up and went to the clinic.  The doctor gave me a cream that was a combo antibiotic and antihistamine and away I went.  Well, even though we discussed my recent sensitivity to sulfites and checked, this cream must have had sulfites.  I got a further reaction to the cream, resulting in a  lunch plate sized burnlike rash.  Great!  There was a  Mardi Gras party at the American Club and I knew a few of the ladies who were planning it.  They were talking about the beads you get in New Orleans, and I told them that I had heard that the way you earned your beads was to lift your shirt and flash your “assets” so to speak.  They said they’d go right after me, so I flashed my rash.  I won!  Anyway, steroids to the rescue and I’m fully recovered.  I kept the cream in case one of the kids gets a bite, but I wrote across it in big letters “NOT FOR BARB!”

 

Well, as usually happens, I find that I write like I talk and the letter gets longer and longer.  I think I’ve covered most of the important events in our life for the last few weeks.  Rob has been threatening to write one about the work, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.  I’ve been doing a little of the fun kind of shopping, including buying a Zanzibar bench which is about 40 years old, but has been repaired.  It looks lovely in my living room, and the cats have adopted it as their own.  One of these days, when we get internet access at home, I’ll take a picture of Booyan lording it over us from his lofty perch on the Zanzibar bench.  I’m trying to cultivate the man that I bought the bench from so I can get a good and old Zanzibar Trunk, but I understand the competition is fierce and good old ones are few and far between.

 

As usual we hope everyone is well.  We’d love to hear from you, although I am having a hard time getting internet time to respond to some of the e-mails we get, we do appreciate them and hope that we’ll be able to hookup at home soon.

 

Love and good adventures,

Barb

 

 

5th letter from Tanzania

17 February 2004

 

Today Rob and I saw a huge Baboon walking down the side of the road about ½ kilometer from our house.  He was enormous, much bigger than the ones we saw on our safari.  People were waiting for the bus, and they were all looking at him.  The baboon was more interested in a dog inside the gate.  Amazing!  He had to go through a really heavily populated area to get where he was.  You’d think they would rather stay away from people.

 

I haven’t written for a long time because we’ve been so busy and it is still hard for me to get to the internet.  I’ve been buying furniture and things, and we had a little safari when the kids had their mid-term break.  The hardest part is budgeting the cash flow.  I can take 400,000 shillings out of the bank each day, but it goes so fast.  I purchased a lovely sofa for 390,000 shillings, and then decided that I wanted a second one.  I had ordered drapes, and they have all come and been hung – they are really nice.  We also ordered a dining room table and paid a deposit towards the wood.

 

18 February 2004

 

Oops, sidetracked!

 

Today the dining room table and 8 chairs were delivered and also the second sofa.  Our house is actually looking like a home.  All I’m waiting for now are the two mosquito nets for the boys.  It’s almost time to do the fun kind of shopping – for African stuff to decorate with.  The table is beautiful.  It’s made from a local hardwood called Mninga.  It’s 8 feet long and 3 feet wide and cost 420,000 shillings ($400) – including 8 chairs.  It is all really nice except for the red crushed velvet seat covers on the chairs.  Good excuse to go shopping for textiles.

 

We had a fun safari with the kids.  We went to the same place that Rob and I went to in November.  It was a lot greener than in November, and there was a lot of water.  We saw some baboons on the way in and then Madeline spotted the first lion - right by the side of the road again.  The kids took turns filming and photographing all the animals.  Also, on the first day out into the preserve, we came upon a group of elephants that were crossing the road.  There were some on either side of us.  We drove in fairly close so we could film them.  One of the younger ones took offense and held his ears out and shook his head and trumpeted at us.  It was very exciting!  I still don’t understand the sign by the little knee high iron fence.  “Exercise Extreme Care with Elephants”  - What exactly is extreme care?     Otherwise, we saw the usual animals; giraffe, impala, zebra, wildebeast, baboons, a warthog or two, jackals, only a couple of buffalo, lions every day, and a crocodile.  The lions were hunting zebra.   One lioness was lying at the side of the road.  We’d heard that there were 3 hunting in the area, so we wondered where the others were.  We were sitting on a little place in the road where the park had boosted the road over a little ravine by installing cement pipes for the water to flow without washing out the road.  While the kids were filming the lioness I looked on the other side of the road and directly under us, sticking her head out of the cement pipe, was the other lioness.  She was concentrating on the zebra so hard she hardly noticed us.  We watched them for a little while, and the zebra watched us and sort of drifted out of the area.  The lioness in the pipe eventually came out, and right behind her came her cub.  He was obviously this years’ baby, and he was really sweet.  They act just like housecats with each other.  Anyway, I think we ruined their hunt, but it was fun sitting there hoping they’d make their chase right in front of us.  Wildlife photographers must spend months getting their few minutes of real animal drama.

 

I went to the Corona society meeting last week and there was a really interesting presentation.  Two actually.  The first was a lady who did a presentation on emergency evacuation for medical care – she had a lot of good information.  The second was a group of Tanzanian NGOs (Non Governmental Organizations) who are working with AIDS orphans.  In one region, there are about 85,000 kids, 40,000 of them are AIDS orphans.  They had examples of 7 and 8 year olds who were the heads of their households, often caring for a grandparent and other younger siblings.  It was really pitiful.  These organizations had banded together to provide school clothes and orphanages and other assistance for these kids, and to make people aware of the problem.  I told Rob about it and he said that his project was offering training seminars for dairy farmers in that same area, and that 2 of the applicants for training turned out to be a 10 and an 11 year old (not of the same family) who’s parents had died and who had cows that they didn’t know what to do with.    The NGOs have a little thrift style store, and they have the kids manufacture ironing boards and batik fabrics.   My friend bought an ironing board, and I bought some of the fabrics.  I don’t know what I’ll do with them, but they are pretty and I felt good buying it.  The very best thing about this organization is that it is Tanzanian – not foreign – and they are mostly women.   Boy was I glad that they do actually do more than just have tea at the Corona Meetings.

 

 Another exciting event at the Corona meeting was that one of the ladies went into labor and had her baby about ½ an hour after she left.  I had met this lady last month and she said she wasn’t planning to leave to have her baby because she’d had such easy deliveries with her other two.  When I saw her, I thought she looked terrible so I asked her if she felt like she was about to pop.  She said that no, she had 3 more weeks.  I didn’t believe her, and offered to get her some tea or water.  She refused and then decided she’d go for a little walk as she was so uncomfortable.  She actually WAS in labor, and finally allowed one of the other ladies, who is a midwife and was planning on doing the delivery anyway, to take her to the clinic.  She had barely arrived when the baby arrived.  There was a meconium problem, though, and they both had to be airlifted out to Kenya.  That’s why you don’t have babies anywhere other than where they have good neonatal care – even if you’re good at it.  All’s well that ends well, but it was exciting for us.

 

Madeline is on her Extended Studies Trip.  She’s gone with 17 other 7^th graders on a 4 day camping trip in the mountains.  They had to plan and pack all the things they’d need for meals and cooking.  There are 3 of them in one tent, and they are really out in the wilderness.    I hope she’s cool.   She had to borrow a backpack as ours aren’t here yet.  She picked this trip because it was the one with the most overnights away from home and she didn’t have to write a paper or anything about it.   Pretty gutsy for someone in the country for only  6 weeks.  I’ll make her write a full report when she gets back (will defeat the purpose of having no paper to write – oh well.)

 

Our other really big, actually really, really big, news is that we finally got our car.   We had purchased this monster truck on the 19^th of January and it had to go through this long process to get all the paperwork straight so we could drive it legally.  In the mean time, we had a little sedan to get around in.  This is a 1991 Diesel Toyota Landcruiser with 4 wheel drive.  It is huge!  Especially for someone used to driving a minivan that feels like a car, this thing is a real move up.   It’s got super high suspension and extra large tires and especially large everything.  I have to climb to get in.  Very ladylike.  Rob wanted something we could take on safari – well, the elephants should probably “exercise extreme care” around this monster!   

 

Well, Rob’s got a tennis lesson at the American Club so we’re all going to go and hopefully I’ll be able to send this.  I hope to be more disciplined in the future and try to write at least something each week.  My next task is telephone and wireless hookup at home.  Sounds easy, but....

 

I hope all of you are well.  We’re doing really well for having been here only 6 weeks.  We’re even getting sort of used to not having much in the way of material possessions.  Our sea shipment is due on the 19^th of March.  We’ll see!

 

Drop us a line if you can,

 

Love,

Barb