Daily Life

Believe it or not, I've been in Africa for 5 weeks now. I'm leaving for Zanzibar tomorrow, where I'll relax on the beach and go scuba diving before the rainy season begins. Then, I'm back to Tanga to check up on my kids and the feeding program and then I'll attempt to climb Kilimanjaro over 6-7 days. Once that is all done, I'll have only a month left! Since I've been here in Tanga I've developed a bit of a routine and grown to appreicate some of the quirky characters and experiences I encounter every day. Here is what an average day in Tanga looks like for me:

4:30-5:ooam - The morning call to prayer from a nearby mosque wakes me up with a loud start. In fact, it sounds like there is someone standing outside my window with a louspeaker. I can't understand a word of what the man is saying and his scratchy voice is a little bit creepy at such a volume, but I soon roll back over and try to get a bit more sleep.

6:00am - I crawl out from under my permethrin-impregnated moquito net and have the first course of my breakfast: Malaria prophylaxis. I then make myself some real breakfast to stop the pills from corroding away the lining of my stomach: The "coffee" is some kind of instant powder that vaguely resembles the flavour of coffee and the "milk" is also some kind of powder that never really dissolves properly. Breakfast usually consists of fresh fruit - mangoes, papaya, bananas (no complaints here) - and what Tanzanians refer to as 'bread.' This 'bread' has the consistency of cardboard but lacks any structural integrity keeping it in one piece; Toast, is therefore not a viable option. I've found that peanut butter (organic, peanuts-only, is the only available variety) keeps the bread intact quite well, though. This will have to hold me over for most of the day.

7:00am - I begin my walk to school down the dilapidated train tracks. The low sunlight illuminates the grass, rendering it a million shades of gold and yellow. It is still cool and this morning walk is usually quite enjoyable, depending on the people I encounter. I have learned to greet every child and older woman I come across and they are usually happy to hear me speak a bit of Kiswahili. This is where all the Mambo-Jambo stuff comes into play:

One says, "Jambo" (how are you), and I reply, "Sijambo, Habari?" (I'm fine, how are you?). Then, "Safi, Habari Yako?" (I'm fine, how about yourself?), To which I reply, "Salama, Mambo" (I'm well Thanks, whats up?)... This Continues with more of the like for sometime, until we have both passed each other. The kids usually scream "Hey Mzungu!!" (Hey white person!) or a proud "goodmorning!" in their best English. Its the Tanzanian males who cause me some grief. I get a lot of whistles and "pssstsss!!!" and "hey sista!" which only provokes conversation in a direction I do not want to go. When I say "shikamoo" to older women I get a lot of laughs and impress them with my VERY basic knowledge of Kiswahili. Ninasema kiswahili kidogo tu. Ninajifunza.

7:30am - I meet up with Saphia at the bus stop and we wait for the blue dalla-dalla to show up. We pile in with a dozen or so secondary school students and drive extremely fast to Kiomoni Centre. Marianne made a very good observation about the way that Dalla-dallas operate in Tanzania. She said "dalla dallas are like the mathematic rule of Infinity. Even if you have Infinity, you can always add one or two. Dalla dallas are like infinity; even if there are 12 seats and 20 passengers already, the driver can always stop and pick up another one or two."

8:00 - I arrive at the Kiomoni centre and a handful of 4-6 year olds run to greet me with a booming "GOOD MORNING MADAM" I reply with a polite "goodmorning children, how are you?" and receive a "WE ARE FINE THANK YOU MADAM." They all fight over who holds my hand (I'm surprised all 5 digits are still attached to my hands after having one kid hold each finger) while we walk to the classroom. So begins my day of teaching. We sit in a circle and sing songs and talk about the weather and days of the week for a bit, then learn ABCs and printing letters in English before outside games. Game time is everyone's favorite, and I've introduced them all to Red Rover, the Hokey Pokey, Head & Shoulders Knees & Toes, Duck Duck Goose, What time is it Mr. Wolf and Freeze tag. At this point in the day, I run around and join in the games, making a total fool of myself and loving every minute of it. Some days, Rachel sings "Uringe ba yo yo" and all the kids take turns dancing in the middle of our circle as if we were in a hip hop club or something. I have never before seen 4 year olds "shake it" like that before and man, can those kids dance, especially the tiniest two. Hilarious. We study things like food groups, basic malaria prevention and personal hygiene in "Science" class before going outside to enjoy the snacks provided by the Feeding Program.

10:00am - The kids wash their hands and sit to eat their banana and milk. For 20 cents per child, each one has at least something to eat for the day. Once they finish, they return the empty cups to me with a very rewarding Thank you and a smile.

The day continues with Mathematics - 123's and counting peanuts and such. In Kiswahili class they learn the Alphabet through syllables (Ba Be Bi Bo Bu) and I too learn a few words in Kiswahili. The last subject is Art and I am constantly trying to make this class as fun as possible. Yesterday we ran out of coloring sheets so I gave all the kids a blank sheet of paper and any color crayons they liked and told them to draw whatever they wanted. At first they couldn't think of anything to draw, but I suggested that they draw their home, their family, themselves or some animals. Once they had drawn one object they came up to the front to proudly display their work for me. I praised each one emphatically but then dramatized how I thought they could probably draw just one more object. I suggested "Wewe, chuchora tembo mkubwa" or "chuchora nyumba wako" - "Draw a big elephant" or "draw your house ". It became a sort of game and eventually everyone was drawing whatever I suggested and running to the front to show me their self-portrait or their home. I had a lot of very proud students by the end of the day, and a lot of hilarious drawings to boot.

12:00pm - We sing the goodbye song (to the tune of Happy birthday to you) and every child comes to the front to shake my hand and say "see you tomorrow" in a very faux-serious voice before they scamper out the door and walk home. Some kids walk a long ways to school, some alone, and some with family members. One girl who has a mental and physical disability is picked up by her brother on his bike, who cycles her 5km back home. I do lesson planning with the teachers for an hour and we try to find ways to make our classes better.

1:00pm - I tutor Saphia, Rachel and Rita - three fellow teachers - in English to the best of my abilities. I have never done teacher training or any of those TEFL courses, so I always feel challenged when it comes to creating lessons to work with. We often get sidetracked in class and talk about cultural differences between Tanzania and Canada. Boyfriends are touchy subjects but we always end up laughing and I'm becoming good friends with these 3 great young women.

2:00pm - We wait for the dalladalla to pick us up. Sometimes we wait for an hour, other days it shows up quickly. The minivan is always overloaded and sometimes we get these pary buses, crammed full of secondary students and blaring kiswahili pop. A lot of times I feel the teenage girls behind me touching my (straight & therefore weird) mzungu hair and I turn around to see them giggling hysterically. One time one of the boys (no older than 16) asked for my number. It is always an adventure.

I spend the rest of the afternoon in the office or at an internet cafe, researching ideas for teaching, trying to find out what condition my one disabled student might have, and keeping in touch with home. I usually try to find some snacks - street vendors always have a wide variety of biscuits and such to keep me going. Around 5-6 I head back to the hostel via the same run-down train tracks and I encounter more high school students and little kids wishing to try out their English. At 5pm, I still get a lot of "Good mornings!" and harassment from the male population of this country.

6:00pm - As I arrive at home, my housekeeper, Zuliati, usually leaves and the security guy shows up. We exchange Mambos and Jambos and all that and I make a b-line for the cold shower after feeling sticky and extremely dusty all day long.

Dinner always seems to consist of white rice and mchicha - overcooked and super-salty spinach. If I'm lucky I'll get some chapati or maybe some fish. Recently, Saphia took me under her wing and started cooking me all kinds of wonderful local foods after I mentioned the repetition in my weekly diet. I even got to eat like a "person in the First World" last night when she made me spaghetti and salad (without lettuce). Tanzanians generally eat with their hands, however, so my hostel was not equipped with cutlery. I must have been quite the sight, sitting there alone, eating spaghetti with nothing but a spoon.

6:00-10:00 - First off, I change into a long sleeved shirt, douse myself in mosquito repellant, spray my room with bug spray and let down the mosquito net over my bed in a futile attempt to not get bitten. From here on, I'm left to my own devices and my own company for the rest of the evening. I've learned to enjoy this time and I've been writing a lot, thinking a lot and learning a lot about myself. I ran out of reading material early on, however, and have had to settle for a copy of "A 5th Serving of Chicken Soup for the Soul," just so I have something to keep me busy. I drink a lot of tea - "Chai" spiced with local flavours like ginger, cinnamon, cardamom and cloves - and I indulge regularly in whatever local sweets I can find. Turns out that baobab seeds sweetened with sugar and food coloring make a good snack, and dried mangoes with some kind of red stuff and pepper are pretty good too. Sometimes I try to make conversation with the night security guy who is equally as bored as I am. We point at things and I say the English word and he says the Kiswahili word. Usually we don't communicate much of anything and only end up laughing and giving up. I bought a sketchpad and a decent pencil and have started drawing again. My little black journal book from home is filling up much quicker than I thought and I don't know what I'd do without my Ipod. I bought a "world radio" in hopes of finding the BBC News in English, but I've had little luck. I can only tolerate the exuberant Kiswahili pop for so long. By 10pm I'm exhausted and I've run out of things to write and read so I crawl under my moquito net, try to tune out the noise from the bar down the street, and prepare myself to do it all again.