arusha

Excluding the excessive 'vumbi' [dust] of the dry season, which oppressively fills my lungs and keeps me up at night coughing, and the expected homesickness that overwhelms you unsuspectingly, Arusha is wonderful! I miss the small-town feel of Zanzibar, but it's so nice to be connected to a whole community here -- I'm staying with the pastor's family whose church started the school where I'm teaching, so lots and lots of the teachers and kids also go to the church, some of the teachers are on the worship team too…So I'm seeing the same faces every day, which speeds up the process of getting settled in

a day in the life...

The day after arriving, I visited Maranatha Primary School, the school started by Maranatha Christian Church… Mrs. Price and I had discussed possibly teaching music there or helping out in whatever capacity they needed. I came into the courtyard, and a mob of 5 year olds yelled "Mzungu!" and ran to me in delight, swarming about me like crazy people, hugging my legs and grabbing my hands and trying to kiss me! Oh my, they were so precious… I said "Mambo!" [What's up!] about a billion times and gave them low-fives and kissed them on the cheeks

After signing the principal's guest book in his office, where pictures of the students of the first 10 years of the school's existence lined the walls, he brought me around to each of the classrooms in turn. As we walked around the "By Faith Wing" and "By Grace Wing," each window we passed revealed giggling kids pointing and peering out at me. Every time we entered a classroom, all the kids stood up and in sing-song unison chanted, "Hel-lo-Teach-er-and-Ma-dam.How-Are-You," to which the principal would reply, "I am fine, you may sit," and to which I smiled and turned to cough my lungs out into my shoulder, with a "Samahani!" [Excuse me] from me and a, "The dust is strong for my sister!" as an explanation from the principal to the room. Each room he introduced me with the same lines of, [translation] "This is Grade __, which the children enter after Grade __. The children are very good and they love guests. [to the class] This is my first daughter, she is coming to teach you Swahili [joke?]" I believe this was meant to prompt me to "teach them Swahili" by saying something to them…I then garbled out some kind of embarrassed introduction of myself in Swahili, but got the idea after a few times through. Sometimes he elaborated, saying that I have now returned to Tanzania from America to teach them Swahili, but I couldn't figure out how often kids got the joke, seeing as I myself didn't catch on until after quite a few classrooms… It's pretty hard to read dry sarcasm in a different language, I have to tell you

The principal left me, saying, "Feel free!" [a favorite saying of most of my hosts…] - i.e. go into any classrooms, play with the kids, and do whatever you want all day! Although somewhat surprised by these instructions, I was left in the staff lounge to have breakfast. I chatted with the cleaning ladies and the grounds head, drinking chai ya maziwa (hardcore milky tea) and buttered rolls. All of them are giddy about my Swahili abilities and quite eager to teach me how to talk…'Douglas' especially is a particularly eager instructor -- from the other side of the room, he yells at me "Sema 'moja'!" [Say 'one'!] holding up a finger. After a bit of confusion, the other ladies prompt me to count -- "Moja, mbili, tatu…" I count to ten and he affirms my successful performance with a smiling grunt, and resumes his lunch. I'm not quite sure why he wanted to confirm my counting abilities, as we had earlier had a long and involved conversation in Swahili and I was under the impression he had the opportunity to observe that I have the basics down. It could be he just wanted to show off his protege to the others..

After a bit I went outside to find some kids…approaching a group of shy 3rd graders, I chatted and laughed with them until they broke out of their shells and asked me to come play 'mpira' [soccer/ball] with them. Merely throwing the ball to each other around in a circle was surprisingly entertaining to them…we played duck duck goose later for ages until I told them that I was going to turn into a red person if we didn't go back inside. They took me to their classroom, and i fell in love with them as they show me their 'books,' paper folded and taped into notebook form…Putting paper in front of me and telling me to draw anything, I draw them Manhattan, writing in the names of places in English for them to learn, my home, church, bridges and parks. I draw my family, with their names and ages and a doodle and English name of one thing each of them like to do. When the teacher gets back, some of the girls pass me notes with drawings of flowers and girls in dresses and neat handwriting saying

"from Sharon to you my sister

"i love you liz you are my first friend in world" 

"happy birthday" 

"from your lovely friend Ritha Iminza"

"i love you very much I am welcome you in our school and our church Thank you God Bless your family Amen."

I help the teacher grade some random papers…I wish I had a camera with me then because you would never believe the handwriting and state of the English language on these tests. One child wrote "the" on every single blank answer on the page? I will try to find more examples because they are freaking hilarious…was trying to hide my laughter, since I was still in front of the classroom while grading their papers! 

Before leaving the classroom, at the prompting of the teacher they close their eyes and chant an end of the day prayer by memory in perfect unison.

But oh dear, I certainly was thrown into the deep end…! Before leaving to go back home, I went by the principal's office to see if he was going to figure out some sort of schedule for me where they needed help… Upon arriving, I heard the wailing of a child from inside and concluded this would probably not the best time to discuss details -- through the crack of the door, as he arranged with the guys outside who would take m to the bus stand, I managed a few questions from him: 

what would I usually be helping with? -- tomorrow i'll be teaching computer class and music class 

should i prepare some sort of lesson then? -- yep, prepare a short lesson

what ages are the children? -- some sort of once-a-week class, going around to the different age groups

are there other teachers as well? -- nope! just me

…and in response to what must have been written on my face: "Do not be afraid!" 

hahaha… I was somewhat afraid. Seeing as I have never taught a classroom before and I don't know what I'm supposed to be teaching, this is probably a normal reaction. But after 5 weeks in this country, if there's one thing I've learned it's that I can't expect to always know what's going on or to be in control, and that being freaked out by this is a pretty normal state of being, so I embrace the growth it brings!

In the daladala on the way home, I'm the final one still on…as soon as the last other person gets off, the 3 men working/driving the bus turn to me and start pounding me with questions - over the pounding bongo-flava on the radio I thankfully can't really understand them, but finally I get that they were all merely confessing their love to me, so as my usual escape I show them the ring I have cunningly switched to my left hand. So they settle down themselves somewhat to the fact, but still insist on their faithful love and plead with me to come again tomorrow.

Walking down the road to my house, I pass a Catholic girls school, and immediately 5 12-year old girls run up to me and ask "Do you have email?" We chat for a while, me in Swahili and they in English, and exchange emails…My whole life is basically being the center of attention. As a guest, everyone incredibly generous and hospitable to you, and as a Mzungu, no matter what inch of this country I stand on, everyone wants to talk to me, either to be my friend or to get something from me--every hour in an exercise in figuring out which of the 2 it is! With men I pretty much always defer to the latter, and girls and children I allow the former. 

At night, I am in a war. This war is against bugs. I'm afraid I talk to them entirely too much like human beings. I wonder if this is healthy. I find myself berating them for their bad manners and yelling insults such as "disgusto-freak"…I do not mean for these things to come out of my mouth. Sometimes we keep a healthy co-habitation, but other times remonstrance is needed, such as when the same 2-inch cockroach has the audacity to chill out on your sink dangerous close to your toothbrush 4 nights in a row. After my recent outburst, he will be doing no such thing ever again… I also have a very large cricket friend who comes out to keep me company after dark. Think Snapple cap size. And the mosquitos can be as big as your fingernail. I am now quite a proficient mosquito stalker. Necessary skills included lightning reflexes, a vigorous hatred of the insect, and the knowledge to stay between them and a light-colored surface. Landing on my mosquito net is certain death, as stealthily as a python my arm can creep under and around and…. 

* 

^ smashed mbu [mosquito]