Habari Gani? (What's the news?)

I've still not been able to read the comments. for some reason they take forever to load.

It's been a long weekend. I can't remember what day I wrote last. Friday was very intense for a variety of reasons. It was the first day I've cried. A lot.

We went to meet some of the home based care patients for Women in Action for Development (WIA), a group that GSC works with. There were maybe 25 women and 6 or 7 men there, all HIV positive. We sat together in a classroom and introduced ourselves to one another. We learned about what each of their occupations was, how they managed their HIV, and what their struggles were. they were so very happy to see us, and each one kept saying that we were welcome and that we should not forget them. we asked what we could do for them, and the resounding answer was that micro loans were the best thing they could receive. that way, both the women and the men can set up sustainable businesses like fruit stands or tailoring shops, and not need to rely upon handouts or otherwise. Some of them have small garden plots developed with the help of GSC's sustainable agriculture program. more on that later. After we talked and laughed with each other, they sang us a song in Swahili about how you should love people with HIV and not stigmatize them, and this was the first time i cried on Friday. I did take some video with my camera, so i hope to share it with you all sometime.

Forgive me if I sound a bit discombobulated. I'm really tired, hungry, and probably more than a bit dehydrated again.

It was a wonderful visit, and they asked us to come again before we go. i showed them pictures of my mchumba (fiance) and dogs, and one woman wanted to keep a picture of Chewy. Apparently in Swahili, Chewy means leopard. I don't know how to spell it though. I told them I would send them the pictures we took, and am very glad to have exchanged addresses. I hope to be able to continue relationships with these amazing women. every meeting is really amazing here, especially with women, because the Tanzanians have so much pride. everyone dresses beautifully, and greetings are incredibly important. it is very rude to speak to someone without having greeted them first.

Later in the afternoon we returned home to meet our homestay mamas. mine came running up to me and gave me a big hug. We chatted in broken English and broken Swahili (from me). Her daughter was also with her. I'm going to keep this short because I am so tired. Basically, we had a very long drive out to the end of one f the main roads, along a very bumpy dirt road, where the taxi kept bottoming out and mama kept repeating pole, pole (pole once is sorry, polepole is slowly). It seemed to be a subdivision of sorts we were entering, and some of the houses were huge and really nice and had electric fences on the tops of the walls. Interspersed between were some very ramshackle homes as well. We keep driving, and I keep hoping we are going to one fothe bigger gated homes. We pull up to a gate, which had some chipped stones and was a little ratty, so I thought, oh well, a little less nice, perhaps,but still gated, as most middle class homes are. oh no. we parked at the gate, but then we walked around to the side of the gate, and I saw my homestay. I have seen better shacks in The Deliverance. It was a literal shack, with wooden logs for walls with brown kraft-type paper stuffed between for insulation. the "wallpaper" inside was simply newspaper or other papers stapled to the logs inside. you couldn't see in the shack evening light because there are no windows. it was actually like a little shack compound, with a separate kitchen shack, another shack for one of the sons (the houseboy) and a teeny little outhouse. then there was some rusty metal nailed to a tree in a cube shape where you washed up. It took everything in me not to cry. I kept mumbling quite "asante"s as they showed me around, but it was really terrible. imagine the poorest person's home you've ever seen, and multiply it by 100, and picture it in Africa. It was bad.

I'm running out of time, so, long story short, I'm sitting in the kitchen shack with mama while she makes ugali for dinner, and I hear a racket of noise and squeals. "Rats!" she says, "we have lots of them!" Gulp. I can make it through the night, and I'll see the coordinator in the morning. I also had holes in my mosquito net, and one kept buzzing around my head, so i slept with a sheet over my head as well.

so saturday morning my mama and kaka (brother) had a friend drop me off a the GSC office. I was perfectly fine until they left, and someone asked how my homestay was, and I burst into tears. other people had hto showers, computers, electricity, running water. Not all, but some. But rats are a dealbreaker. Definite public health hazard, so I'm moving. I stay in the hostel again until we find a place for me. My stuff is at the homestay still, but we'll get it tomorrow. They said they have a litany of excuses for people changing homestays so no one gets offended. I have been on safari yesterday and today, so i camped out last night. i can't turn the italics off for some reason. sorry.

I'll have t write about the safari later. it was AWESOME. We saw several kinds of monkeys, giraffes galore, zebras, water buffalo, warthogs (so cute!), ditkis, and lots more. we went on a beautiful hike. Arusha National Park is incredibly diverse. I highly recommend it. I took pictures of the HCRL water bottle with giraffes and in front f Mt. Meru, just for fun. Kind of like the Amelie gnome, but an HCRL Nalgene. yes, I'm a dork.

There are a lot of things that happen here that we say "this is Africa" to. Just a moment ago a brass ban d in the back of a pickup rolled down the street playing. I think there was a wedding.

i muist go, but promise to write more soon. hope everyone is well. arusha is the place to be.

Thanks for all of the comments so far. Keep them coming! I wasn't able to load the ones from the last post after three minutes so I gave up. I haven't read them yet, but I like to see them. I have a LOT to write today so I'm going to try to do it in the next 35 minutes.

Firstly, I think I was a little premature on the judgments of people. I'm just feeling lonely and insecure. :) People are actually really nice, even the young ones. Especially the young ones! We're having a good time together. Fo shizzle. I'm already feeling much more comfortable in Arusha. It's not a constant anxiety as it has been so far. I'm starting to understand the layout of the city and feel comfortable getting around. that was not the case the other night, but more on that later. First, random observations:

Random Observation #1: Irony of all ironies, the word for bread in kiswahili is mkate. Oh, fortuna!

Random Observation #2: A Masaai (VERY traditional tribe in Tanzania) man dressed in the traditional red plaid garments, replete with staff, ear stretchers, beaded necklaces and sandals, standing on a street corner shakig his booty to whatever was on his iPod. Hilarious.

Random Observation #3: When I walk alone, sometimes I feel like "An American Girl in Arusha," grasping my shawl tightly around me as everyone stares and comments. You know what photo I'm talking about. I don't really wear a shawl.

Random Observation #4: For public health communication geeks only: One of the cell phone companies here has a poster around town that says "Spread the word, not the disease" with images of their cell phone and a condom. Pretty cool. They really need a media campaign here, but can't do it without the support of the government. I'll talk more about that someitme. If you get a chance and dont know about how Uganda's AIDS rates went down, look it up. Totally fascinating and awesome, and I hadn't learned about it until I was here.

#5: There are the neatest birds here. I dont know if they're magpies or ravens, but they're huge, and black with white chests and a white band around their necks. When they fly and caw they sound like geese. There were three in the yard this morning and Merry (my roommate the vet) pointed out that one of them has a droopy right wing which is broken. I think he lives in the compound since he can't fly. I like him.

#6: The traffic exhaust here is incredible. Black smoke shoots out of every tailpipe. Talk about black snot. It's really hard to breathe sometimes. Its gross. And speaking of gross (sorry colleagues), I used the pit latrine for the first time the other day, and I peed on my feet. Now I know the key is to squat lower. The bathrooms have spouts for water and buckets though to wash things down, so I was able to rinse them. I guess every woman's got to do it once!

#7: I forgot to mention the best part of the blackout the other night: the stars. I may have mentioned that Africa is dark? It's really dark. So pitch black that you cannot see a person in front of you. But if you look up at the sky, it's astounding. I've never seen so many stars. And, theyre different stars. I don't recognize any of them. Constellations, I mean.

Lastly, I had my first moment today while I was walking in the sewing district getting fabric, watching the seamstresses on the sidewalks pumping away at their pedals, with Tanzanian drums blasting out of someone's speakers, and dodging smokey dalla-dallas, of I'm in Africa. My heart pitter-pattered a little bit. It just felt right.

Dont' worry, I'll still come home.

I have a huge story about getting lost walking home after the last blog I posted and mozungo (white people) restaurants and David Bowie and eating a salad, but the last person here with me is finished and I don't want to walk over the bridge alone. Its getting dark.

I wish you all could be here with me. When I post next I will be moved in with my homestay family. I'm sure there will be more stories to tell.

Okay, I swear when I have longer than 12 minutes I'll try postin gsome photos. Probably not until the weekend.

So I mentioned that Africa is dark. REALLY dark. We had our first blackout last night. I thought it was kinda fun, busted out my headlamp and proudly wore it on my head like the dork I am. I am sure that the younger kids here think I'm a total loser. There are 5 of us who make up the over-30 club, and two of them are leaving in two weeks. I really wish I could talk to someone I know for a change. That is what I wish most. I've gotten to talk to Sam, which is like an oasis in this desert of dust and mud.

If I haven't said so, I love Tanzania. THe people here are very proud, very friendly, and are welcoming of volunteers. They are very formal and dress nicely all of the time. It is more casual here in the urban area, and I REALLY wish I would have brough tmore pants and tank tops. All the other Westerners wear them in Arusha, but not so much in the rural areas. There are a lot of flycatchers, which are men who walk alongside you on the street and try to sell them things. The words you use most here are "hapana, asante" which is no thanks. I also learned "Piss off" for good measure, and leave me alone now, which I haven't had to use yet, luckily. THere are extremely dirty street children who try to touch you and make a motion towards their mouths for food, but we were told by the locals that they are mostly on drugs and drinking, and do not give them money, no matter how bad you may feel. A friend took a picture of them and they posed like hip-hoppers.

The HIV orientation today was sobering. Transmission rates are so high here, and the usual time from infection to death is 2-3 years. SOme die in 6 months. THis is mostly becasue of poor nutrition (I'm sorry for typos, but there is not time to go back!), and infection with multiple viruses. There needs to be much education, mostly in the rural areas. WOmen cannot tell a man to use a condom. One of our Tanzanian counterparts actually said "It is impossible." They are also not allowed to deny sex from their husbands. There was a lot of stuff that people (even vounteers) did not know. iu was shocked. I didn't realize how good my knowledge of HIV was, and often had to explain things like resistance and mother-to-child prevention.

I have to go....only a few minutes left. I've eaten mostly beans and ugali, a maize paste, and beef and potatoes at home. And pineapple fanta, which is awesome.

More later....

Well, I'm here. I arrived last night around 10pm after an incredibly long 24 hours in airports and on planes. I've seen more movies in the last 24 hours than I have in weeks. Word to the wise: Don't watch The Namesake when you're leaving on a journey without your significant other.

My first impression as we were landing was how unbelievably dark it was outside the windows. There are very few lights seen from above, and that remains true for the highway as well. I was greeted by one of the GSC workers and met up with two other of the 23 or so volunteers here together. We rode back in a van, and along the highway were a lot of little shops and bars. They were all painted with lots of colors, and there were plenty of Celtel and Coca-Cola advertisements. It reminded me of all of the obnoxious ads for that cell phone company with Joan Cusack as the spokesperson. Where there is light, it's flourescent light outside the bars and gas stations. It pretty much looks exactly like you would expect from movies. It was cool but very damp, and it's still in the rainy season, so it's pretty muddy and drizzles throughout the day and night. That will stop in mid-June.

We arrived at the hostel, which is sort of like a compound, and run by the Catholic archdiocese. The accomodations are pretty minimal. A bed, a mosquito net, and a table. We had hot water for the shower, but I didn't realize it takes about 10 minutes for the heater to warm the water, and had a cold shower, with about 30 seconds of heat at the end. Now I know. I pretty much went to bed immediately, but woke up at 2:30am, and lay there, awake, until about 4:30, at which point I bit the bullet and took a sleeping pill. That knocked me out until 7:30, when my roommate woke up and I could hear everyone preparing in the kitchen. The two hours I was awake sucked. There are guard dogs that patrol the compound, and I tensed up each time they started barking. It was damp, the mosquito net had a habit of creeping onto my face, and I still have poison ivy. But I'm not complaining. :) Trust me, there are millions of people here worse off than that.

Breakfast was eggs and bread (which I can't eat), so I had eggs and coffee. Then we (myself, my roommate Merrywho is a veterinarian from Portland, and a few other volunteers) ventured into town, which is maybe a 1/4 mile from the hostel. You are immediately regaled with pleas for money, offers for safaris, and paintings that are lovely,but everyone has the same ones even though they all painted them themselves, of course. We were looking for a particular safari place, and learned from a painting-peddler and a safari-offerer that it had moved. So, they offered to walk us to the new place, and we felt okay about it. Thomas and Stefano were very nice and got us exactly where we needed to go, teaching us more Swahili along the way. The other nice thing about walking with Tanzanians is that other peddlers leave you alone, and our gentlemen guides shooed them away. We gave them a few dollars for helping us, and I told Thomas I'd buy a painting baadaya (later).

Our first venture into town I didn't bring anything but some money tucked in my shoe (I know it's gross, but whaddya gonna do) and a copy of my passport. Then I went back to the hostel and got my bag with a camera and some money and headed out again. Here I am, in an internet cafe, battling the totally pathetic connection.

I'm sorry that this is really boring, but nothing exciting has happened yet! Everyone at the hostel is really friendly, and they think seeing their picture on a digital camera screen is the absolute coolest thing ever. Clearly, with this connection I can't upload any photos. I hope to go to the fancy hotel sometime this week and use their broadband.

Tomorrow we start one week of orientation, from 9-6 daily. It should be pretty intense. Then we head out to our homestays in the nearby villages and go to the schools for the day camps. I'm excited. I asked Thomas if he thought so many volunteers here are good (nzuri) and he said yes, nzuri sana, because htey spend so much money. I asked him if he thought they did good as well, and he agreed that they are very good for hte community, because they bring ideas and things can change for the better. I was glad to hear this, because I continue to struggle with whether all of us white folk are really doing any good, or just making ourselves feel good. Thomas laughed at this and said that we do very much good. Ok, then. I feel a bit better.

I don't know if I will be able to access a computer during the day this week, and I'm not sure whether these cafes are open at night, so I may not get to post again until next weekend. We'll see. I promise it will be more interesting, and hope to have photos.

Also, the dalla-dallas here (buses) are amazing. I am so not ready to get on one. People drive completely insane here, and the dalla-dallas are overflowing with people. But for some places, it may be the only way to get there, or else pay high dollar for a taxi. This morning on the road in front of the hostel, an open-top Toyota Land Rover or something similar drove by, with about 8 football players in uniform hanging out the top yelling. I guess they won! It was such a funny sight.

It's also really muddy right now, although not the knee-deep mud I was warned about. Actually, all in all, everything is quite a bit nicer than I expected. So far, I'm pua (cool). I guess that's how you spell it. Thomas and Stefano taught us how to say "I'm cool as a banana." I already forgot it.

For those of you not blog-savvy (i.e., my family), you can subscribe to this blog and it will send you an email when I post. THat way you don't have to check it on your own.

Oh! I almost forgot. The case study that was accepted for publication by a journal called Cases in Public Health Communication and Marketing is up and running on the web. The site is www.casesjournal.org. You'll see on the first page that the case I wrote with my mentor/boss/professor, Matt Kreuter, won the $1000 prize for best case study that benefits the health of older adults, a prize sponsored by the AARP. Pretty cool. The editor who called and told me said that she wrote her editorial based on our case study, and that the journal would not have been the same without it. I couldn't see it from here, because it was too big to download, so tell me how it looks!

Good things just keep happening to me. I am so grateful to be here, and I owe much of it to all of you who donated to help cover the expenses. I know I'll leave a changed woman. I always just try to keep my mind and heart open, and don't have any expectations. That way, I'm never disappointed and often pleasantly surprised. I sure do love my life. I wish you all could be here with me. I miss Sam and the dogs the most. Apparently Chewy has had diarrhea since I left. Poor baby. I had better post this before I run out of time. I have 10 minutes left, but I bet it'll take 10 minutes to post. Guaheri, baadaya!

It's Monday night, and I'm becoming more and more excited for my departure. And more prepared. And more nervous. Yesterday we had a fantastic bon voyage at the park, playing softball in the rain, chasing the dogs, and eating burnt cow from the barbeque. It was VERY American, and exactly what I needed before leaving.

Later on I started getting dizzy and weird and felt like I was tripping. I couldn't really talk, and I wasn't blinking. I felt really paranoid, and my mind was racing. It sucked. Sam kindly put up with me until some french fries and a little "Night at the Museum" seemed to make it better. I hadn't eaten much other than chips and dip all day, was dehydrated, and I think the stress of leaving was starting to get to me. It isn't so much the leaving, but all of the things I need to do before then. Namely this freakin' analysis that I want to never ever see again after I leave. Fat chance. No offense, Corrado.

I've already been "that girl" and emailed all of the participants in the day camp and coordinated stuff for us to bring for the schools (at the request of the organization) so that we don't all show up with 500 pencils and none of the other things we need. I have a feeling I'll be the oldest person there. Maybe not, but that's the impression I'm getting.

Anyway, it is not my intent to bore you to tears with the mundane rubbish of my daily life. I've started this blog (as much as I hate to have a blog) as an easy way to stay connected and share my experiences in Tanzania with you all. I'm hoping I can upload photos while I'm gone as well. Stay tuned.