A little bit of this...a little bit of that

It's Friday, my day off, and I managed to "sleep in" this morning until 7:15am. Last night I counted how many times the roosters thought it was time to wake me up -- three times, starting at about 1:15am. Will I ever get used to them? This morning we did a house visit of one of the female students. She's 40 years old, married to a policeman, and has 4 daughters (the eldest is 16 and the youngest, whom we met, is 2). Apparently, she comes from a tribe in southern Tanzania where it is accepted (and expected) for men to beat their wives. When we asked Herman, one of the school's translators who was with us, if he thought that her husband beat her, he told us yes, since that's the norm for them. Monika asked me try to find out by using the topic of "marriage" in one of our conversation sessions (every Thursday). The student's three eldest children go to school, but she never had the chance as a child. She told us that coming to school has changed her way of thinking. She is so happy to be a student at our school now. She hopes to start a cement business once she leaves school (end-September; the course is just for 6 months), since that's what her family used to do. She is working on the business plan in class (the students take English, computer, and business classes at the school).

Everyday I tell myself "I must remember 'this' to talk about in my blog," and then I end up forgetting to do it. Here are a couple of things I've neglected to tell you...

Taking the daladala
Daladalas are minivans (like the old Volkswagen type) that act as group taxis. It costs 250 Tanzanian shillings (15 euro cents) to go from Moshi town to Ushirika where I live. The idea is to stuff as many people in as you can -- you'd be amazed\; I am. Just when you think they couldn't possibly let anyone else in, they do! And the person always fits. Well, "fits" is relative. I haven't done an actual count, but there must be at least 20 of us sardines squeezed together during "rush hour", and not only on the seats. At least four people are always standing. But standing where? There is no standing room! Somehow they manage, however. Monika and I usually try for a seat on the bench right behind the driver -- that way we're sure to be able to get off (which isn't a given if you're sitting in the back). Sitting down is like a puzzle. You have to try to fit your legs in between those of the person in front of you. I haven't yet braved a daladala by myself. I think I'll know that I've really acclimated myself to life here when I can brave it on my own!

Petro, our Maasai nightwatchman
He arrives at 6:30pm every evening and leaves the next morning at 6:30am. He speaks no English and only a little Swahili. Ever since I greeted him with " Supai!" (the typical greeting in, Maa, the Maasai language) and paraded in front of him with my Maasai outfit, we are friends, though we never understand each other. I have an entire list of Maa vocabulary with the English translations, which I saved from my last trip to Tanzania when I spent a week in a Maasai village (including phrases such as "How are your cows" and "The goats are fine"). When I showed this to Petro, he wanted a copy. Now I'll have to see if he starts asking me in English how my cows are doing! Petro's favorite activity is to try to ride Monika's bike. He had just started learning when I arrived and is doing really well. He rides round and round the little square in front of the school (which is attached to the house) all night long. I think I can hear the wheels from my bedroom. The bike has become his best friend. One afternoon, I was in the house on my own and didn't think to lock the front gate. Monika came home and noticed the gate open and told me it would be safer to lock it when I'm alone at home. Then she noticed that the bike was gone! It's always kept in the little square in front of the school. Horror of horrors, it was not there! How could I have been so stupid! I felt horrible. I didn't remember seeing it when I came home, and then thought that perhaps Lusajo had taken it to go into town, since he had come home while I was there and then left again. But Monika said that was unlikely. She was really calm about it all, but I felt like crying. A little voice in my head had told me when I came home that I should lock the gate, but I didn't listen to it. Now look what I caused! Monika went back to Lusajo's store and I sat on the couch and stewed, feeling more and more dejected and wondering where I was going to be able to find another bike like hers! Then Petro arrived!! How was I going to break the news to him that his best friend was gone?  What would he do all night long now? When he arrived, I took out the English-Swahili dictionary and tried to explain -- not an easy task! I think he was just as devastated as I was. The two of us just sulked. Later on, Lusajo arrived and opened the door saying "Pole sana" (I'm so sorry). I thought he was referring to the bike and was just about to tell him how horrible I felt when he said that he was sorry that I was left all alone in the house!!!! Then I asked him if he had taken the bike into town and he said YESSSSSSS!!!!!!!! Hallelujah! Petro and I were the happiest beings on Earth!


Asante sana (thank you very much) for your comments!

Kumbatia (hugs),
Victoria

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