It's not EVEN funny!

12 June 2004

 

Dear Friends and Family,

 

You have the Triple Crown, but we have the GOAT Races!  You have thoroughbreds with fancy names like Smarty Jones, SeaBisquit, or Secretariat.  We have racing milk goats with names like Gone with the Wind or Nyama Choma (translated as Barbequed Meat) or Mbuzi na Chipsi (Goat meat with fries) or Skip or Fluffy or Poppy.  We had all the pomp and circumstance of Ascot or Churchill Downs right here in Dar es Salaam.  Big hats, fancy dress, flowing drinks, and betting - the real McCoy.  It was  a charity fundraising event and everyone was there.  My friend Ingrid even took her goat!   It was an all day affair attended by Masaai and expat and Tanzanians.  We had great fun.

 

I bet 2000 TSh (Tanzanian Shillings; $1= 1100 TSh) on the first race.  I picked the longshot - Gone with the Wind.  How could I lose?  I usually bet the gray at the horse tracks, but these are goats - most of them are gray.  Gone with the Wind trailed the field for the entire race, but she must have come alive in the stretch and won!  She paid 6 to 1!  I won big - 12,000!    We stood at the rail at the finish of every race, winning ticket in hand each time.  Our handicapping was flawless. But we never won again, because as far as we could determine, the first goat over was not the winner.   Maybe it was the last goat over the line and that's why Gone with the Wind came in a winner.  I'm posting pictures on the website of the races today.  (http://nooter.textamerica.com). 

 

I have to also tell you about the conclusion (ha ha ha) of the water troubles for us here in our house.  Last weekend, the pump came back from the shop.  I waited for the fundi all week, he was supposed to be here on Sunday.  Waiting for the fundi means going about my life as if no fundi existed, as I have learned that they'll come or not, probably not, so if they show up while I'm home, I'll wait for them to finish, but I'm not putting any time or effort into waiting around.  It worked, as the fundi finally came on Friday, and I was home and watched and waited for him to finish.  Not only one fundi came, the plumbing fundi and 2 electrician fundis came.  I had a whole crew here at one time - unbelievable!  I sat at the computer playing games and waiting when I suddenly realized that I heard the pump running so I went out to participate in the testing phase.  My gardener was washing out something in the yard, and he said the fundis were finished and had gone!  I guess they had just gone, because when I started to get upset, he grabbed my bike and went after them!  I figured that the system was not working, and I knew that they'd never even  tested it.  How did I know?  The tank is on the roof.  You need a ladder go onto the roof to find out if it is full.  I don't have a ladder!

 

I called Rob and started my tirade.  One of the things we like about life here, and in our other over-seas experiences, is the intensity of things.  One of the things that is more intense is the passion of our emotions.  I told Rob that he needed to come home because the fundis had gone and the gardener had gone after them on the bike, that the pump was not working and that they didn't even tell me they were done!  While I was waiting for the gardener, the fundis, and Rob, the landlord called.  He explained to me that everything was now finished, that he'd spoken to the fundi who had said all was working and tested and fine.  I explained to the landlord that all was not fine, the fundi had NOT tested the system and had gone without letting me know.  I stewed as I waited, and then by the time they all showed back up I exploded!  "What do you mean leaving without testing the system?  Why did you go without telling me you were done?  How could you tell the Landlord that you'd tested it?  How do you know the tank is full, you didn't even go up onto the roof?"  and on and on and on.  Then, to cap the whole thing off, for a climax, I said "It's NOT EVEN FUNNY!"  That was the best I could do.  "It's not EVEN funny!"  Pitiful.

 

It was at this point that I realized the ridiculousness of the whole situation.  There they were, Rob and the 3 Tanzanians standing there open mouthed and shocked.  I had put the entire project in jeopardy, and would I ever be embarrassed if the whole thing actually worked!  I turned to Rob and asked him if I should just go into the house and let him deal with it (bad cop/good cop routine), but he said I'd made this mess, I could finish it.

 

Well, fortunately (or not!) I was right.  The system didn't work.  Although the tank on the roof was full, the pump still was not right.  Nothing was automatic, and the old once a day push of the button didn't work.  Phew, the tirade wasn't all for nothing.  About an hour later, the fundis threw up their hands and said that they couldn't fix it.  We had to get the pump fundis to come.   The pump fundis came and got the pump working, but still not the automatic switch.  But at least I had them here and I could prove to them that it was not working.  We're now back to where we were, which is a yellow hose running to the roof to fill the tank.

 

The other thing that was frustrating about this fundi thing was that I had things to do.  We were having some people over for dinner, and I had to buy the fresh salad stuff and some other things.  I couldn't really afford the time that I spent waiting for the fundis to finish.  I went madly dashing about to get the kids from school, buy a birthday present, cook part of the dinner, watch Madie's soccer, deliver a kid to a party, etc.  Finally, I realized that it was not all going to be done in time, so when Rob came home, he went to do the final few errands.  One of these errands was to buy charcoal.  You can get the little briquettes like we have in the US, but they are expensive.  The locals all cook on charcoal stoves, so the local charcoal is cheap, but comes in big bags - at least 5 feet tall and as big around as a man.  This was the first time we were going to try the local charcoal.  Rob drove to the vendor and purchased his bag.  He'll have to tell the story, but as far as I could tell, the bag had a hole, and there was some problem getting it into the car.  Also, the alarm kept going off.  I happened to call to see if he could pick up some bread on his way home, and he told me that he couldn't get into the car.  His button for the alarm just would not unlock the door.  The only thing to do was bring him my alarm button.  Guests were due in 3 minutes.  I hopped on my bike and flew.  Fortunately, Rob was not far from the house.  When I got there, he was really mad, and covered in charcoal.  I pushed my button, and although the alarm was disarmed, the door was still locked.  Rob was just about to explode, but I asked him if he'd tried his key.  He did and the door opened.  Crisis solved.  I got in the car, he got on my bike, and we got home just before the first guest. 

 

All this time I was wondering what the locals were thinking.  They buy these bags of charcoal and strap them onto their bikes and ride away with them.  We drive up in a car with a ridiculous alarm, get all mad when we get it dirty, and then can't work the door locks.  It isn't like we're not obviously foreigners.  I can't imagine what they were thinking when I came flying up on my bicycle (the theme of the wicked witch from the 'Wizard of Oz' comes to mind), dressed like I was having dinner guests, to bail out my husband with the car.  Then, I got into the car, he got on the bike and away we went.  Most of them have enough English to understand what we said to each other.   OK, it IS funny!!  It's really funny.

 

So now we're off to another party.  We all sit around and tell these stories.   This is what we laugh about at dinner or over drinks.  Think about it, we're telling stories about yelling that the Fundis are not funny, and then we're probably the subject of the funny stories the Fundis tell their friends and families over dinner and drinks.

 

That's it for now.  Hope your day was as funny as mine.

 

Barb 

 

 

New photos on the website

8 June, 2004

 

Dear Family and Friends,

 

I have posted some pictures of our house since there has been a lot of curiosity on the photo website http://nooter.textamerica.com/.  

 

You can read all the prior e-mails on the other website http://nooter.blogspot.com/ 

 

Just thought you'd like to know.

 

Barb

 

Surprise!

4 June, 2004

 

Dear Friends and Family,

 

We've been writing a lot lately about how difficult things are here or how frustrated we are so I thought I'd write a little about the day I had yesterday.

 

Yesterday was my birthday.  It was my 44th, not a big or special birthday, just a birthday.  Rob is in Mwanza in western Tanzania for "Milk Week."  He left on Monday, so it's just been me and the kids and the dog and the cats and the gardeners and the guards, but thankfully, no fundis.  At 3 in the morning, the power went out.  It's not really a big deal at that time of night, except that the UPS for the computer started beeping, and I had to get up to turn it off.   I thought we were in great shape, as the day before we had purchased a new battery for the car, and put the one we had "borrowed" from the generator back into the generator.  I even tested the generator with the night guard and said that if the power went out, we'd be in business.  The generator is outside of the house, and the switch to route the electricity through it is inside the house (don't ask why, it just is).  That means that we have to go out to turn the generator on, and then come in to switch the switch.  I don't need the electricity at night, but the guard does as the whole yard is lit up at all times so he can see the bad guys if they decide to come in, that is if he's awake (why we also use the alarm.)   Remember, it's 3 AM, and I'm in my nightie.  I was heading for the generator, but stopped as I heard the night guard coming and thought he'd start it up.  When I looked through the window, however, it didn't look like my night guard, so I was a little unnerved.  Then, whoever he was, walked right by the generator and didn't turn it on!  Since I didn't need the electricity, I just decided to go back to bed.  The electricity came on about 20 minutes later. 

 

When I did get up, at 5:40, and went to take a shower, I got all wet, but not soapy, and then ran out of water.  Typical.  The kids got up and I got a couple of cards and was sung to a time or two.  Then I took them to school.  My friend Ingrid, from South Africa, had asked me to breakfast, thinking that we had to do something to celebrate.  We went to the Holiday Inn (yep, there's really one here!) and had a nice, relaxing meal.   The 5th grade was having a sports day, and Ingrid also has a 5th grader.  We decided that we should probably go and cheer on our kids.  Austin had his sports day the day before, so he got to "help" at the 5th grade sports day.  Ingrid had her camera, I did not.  We spent the morning watching the kids throw balls, slide on mats with wet sponges, kick goals, shoot baskets, dance, and otherwise to anything but academics.

 

After the sports day, there was a big African Crafts Fair called "Tanz Hands".  Ingrid is my shopping buddy.  We had planned to go, but first I had to zip home and get Austin's bathing suit and towel, which he had forgotten in the morning, and run them back to school so he could swim.  I met Ingrid at the fair, and we went through every single stall and looked at, handled, and critiqued all of the offerings.  We didn't buy much.  We do a lot of looking, and a fair amount of buying, so we're getting picky about what we buy.  Everyone was there.  This fair is organized by volunteers who, according to the leaflet "believe in the handicraft products of Tanzania and who wish to support the craftspeople behind them."   I think Rob thinks I'm supporting some craftspeople all on my own.  Anyway, as I said, we're getting picky, so we didn't buy much.  I bumped into another friend, Judy, and she asked us to come and give her a second opinion on some jewelry she had seen, and that she was thinking of purchasing as a gift.  I loved it, Ingrid was a little less effusive, but I really sold Judy on the piece.  Great color, great design, liked the earrings, the style and the uniqueness of the beads.  I told her to buy them for herself, and get something else for the gift.

 

After that we all went home and did our usual afternoon kid runs.  Ingrid had said that she had one thing she wanted to do with me later on, and said I'd have to leave the kids for an hour or so.  Madie had told me that she had a friend coming over to help her with an art project.  I decided that we were going to go out to dinner.  Madie had started thawing some chicken, saying that she was going to cook dinner for me.  I told her that although I appreciated the offer, we were still going out, as I would have to do the dishes even if she cooked.  Also, I was protesting about leaving them at home, especially with Madie's friend in the house, which is against our rules.  She looked at me and said "How can I have a surprise party for you if you don't cooperate!?"  Imagine!

 

Madie is 12 3/4.  She organized and executed a surprise dinner party for me for my birthday.  Days earlier she had called Judy and invited her and her husband, she e-mailed Ingrid and invited their family and asked Ingrid to get me out of the house.  She cooked fried chicken, pasta, and corn for 10 people all by herself.  She cleaned the house and set the table.  She made and decorated a birthday cake.  She did it all, with only a little help from her friend and the 6th grader that lives next door!  (My boys spent their time in front of the TV - which was probably the best help she could ask for.)  The food was good, the company was good.  It was great!   How about that?  The first party that my daughter planned and executed was a dinner party for 10 at age 12!  I think the first one I ever did was in my second year of college!  And it certainly wasn't for 10 people.   Also, we're entering that time when eye rolling is epidemic and even when I look at her in public it is embarrassing (for her, not me).  We have battles about the mess she leaves all over the house, and she can hardly even speak a civil word to her brothers.  I thought we were starting the "Teens" early.    My friends were so impressed.  They ordered similar functions for their birthdays and Madie is all booked up for the next few months.  The fried chicken recipe is her own, one she made up a few months ago based on her cookbook and what she learned watching cooking shows.  It's very good.  I have been bragging all over town about my birthday party.  All the other moms are envious, and a few have asked if she'll teach their daughters how to be so thoughtful. 

 

While I'm bragging about her, I'll tell you another thing she did that amazed me.  The school had a Biathlon.  It was a 250 meter swim and a 4 Kilometer run.  They could participate as individuals or as part of a team.  Madie teamed up with her friend Missy, and did the running part of the race.  It was a staggered start, each 20 seconds a swimmer would start.  Missy did a great job swimming, passing a couple of the kids that started in front of her.  When Missy finished, she had to tag Madie, who then took off running.  Most of the run was on the beach, away from the school, so all we could do was wait.  As runners started trickling in, we were amazed to see Madie come in before a few other runners who had gone before.  Madie and Missy came in third of all the 7th grade girls who participated.  How about that!  She got a medal and a certificate and a picture in the yearbook. 

 

Today I took some pictures of Madie playing soccer for the school.  She was of course mortified that I would even think of taking her picture - especially when her friends were watching.  I took one of the entire team.  I posted it on the website (http://nooter.textamerica.com/).  She's the one standing in the middle, 6th from the left.  (Missy is the one lying in front.)  I don't care if she is embarrassed, I'm very proud of her, and it was a perfect surprise party.

 

That's it for now from Tanzania.  Maybe Rob has some stories about "Milk Week."

 

By the way, Judy gave the jewelry to me.  I love it. 

 

Barb